#Gone back to Stanford | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thepowerofswayze · 4 days

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demonstration

originally on ao3

based on this post by @fantasylandloser

pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 1.9K

warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, college era art AHHH, friends to lovers, first time together, mostly smut, oral sex (reader receiving), art is a munch obviously, reader wears a bra and skirt

summary: Catching Art up on your adventures gets hard when he doesn't get your explanations, or your hand puppet examples. Looks like you just have to show him exactly what went down. Based on this post that i could not stop thinking about. :))

☆

“Oh my god, fuck you!”

Art chuckled from where he stood, watching as you tossed the t-shirt he’d balled up and chucked at you back in his direction. It fell harmlessly to the floor a foot from him, and you glared at him as he snickered, picking it up and putting it away.

You were visiting Art, your close friend from high school, at Stanford. At that moment, you happened to be explaining how an interaction at a party at your university had gone a couple weeks before. Art never really liked listening to you talk about guys- hence, the shirt thrown directly at your face when you’d started describing this particular frat boy to him in detail- but he’d given up complaining a while ago. It was either that or be honest about why he hated it so much, and that was never going to happen. So, he tidied up his room as you explained the lead up, the flirting, the stumbling up the stairs. He fell back parallel to you on the bed as you got to the “good part”, his head by your legs and an arm over his eyes, like he could block out the imagery.

“Anyway, I didn’t think it was a big deal at first, like when we were flirting, but then I was on him, kinda like-” You took a moment to sit up straight, grinning as art groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to see you better. He watched you attempt to mimic the position with your hands, your left hand being the guy you were talking about, your right being you.

To Art, it just looked like you were mashing your hands together. He looked up from your hands to see you raising your eyebrows at him, as if to ask if he was following. “Huh?” He said.

With an exasperated sigh and without another thought, you pushed yourself up on your knees and waddled over to him, swinging a leg over his body and hovering just over his torso. For a moment, Art just watched, bewildered, as you steadied yourself with your hands on either side of his head. He let himself fall back from his elbows, hands sliding up your hips and settling at your waist, catching momentarily on the fabric of your skirt. His fingers peeked just under the hem of your shirt. Your skin tingled where he touched you.

“... Like this,” you said finally, blinking at him for a moment. “Well, uh.” You moved your hands to his chest instead, careful not to push too hard (though with the muscle he’d acquired since he’d started playing tennis for Stanford, you were sure it bothered him much less than you thought). “More like this, I guess.”

Art nodded, quickly licking his lips before asking, “Then?”

You tried not to look at his mouth. “What?”

“Then what did you do?”

It finally hit you then: what the fuck were you doing, climbing all over your best friend to ‘show him’ how you and some guy had been fooling around a couple weeks ago? That would just mean fooling around with him, obviously. That wasn’t really the plan.

But, it was too late for your common sense to kick in now. There you were, your hips hovering over his, not quite touching yet. You watched his eyes dart down to your lips, then drag slowly back up to meet your gaze. You couldn’t wait here and think about what you’d gotten yourself into and how this would change your friendship forever, though you got the feeling he’d let you take as long as you wanted.

Then what did you do?

You steeled yourself, biting your lip and watching his lips part slightly as he tracked the action with his eyes. Then you took that moment to fully sit on his lap.

You could feel his chest expand beneath your hands with his sharp inhale, his eyes snapping down to your hips, then back up to your face.

“This,” you murmured. You’d intended for it to come out cocky, maybe even a little seductive, but you could hear the breathlessness in your own voice. You were trying your best to ignore the growing pressure where your hips met his, though really, it was hopeless.

Art’s ears were burning a bright shade of pink. The urge to gently nip at them crossed your mind, just for a moment. He cleared his throat. “Then?” His voice was almost a whisper, chest rising and falling unevenly with his nervous breathing. The way he was looking at you, like he wasn’t sure you were real…

Fuck.

You leaned forward, trying not to let your breath stutter at the friction caused by the movement, until your lips hovered just over his. Then you kissed him.

You pressed your lips together gently, lingering for a moment before pulling back by centimeters. His lips chased yours, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly, and you were right back on him, lips falling open against each other. A soft sound escaped him as your hips shifted against his, along with a contented sigh from you. You repeated the motion, reveling in the low groan he let out, followed by your name murmured into your mouth.

Art’s lips were soft. And he’d shaved recently, you thought, hands cupping his face. The smooth skin of his cheeks was a stark contrast to the calloused hands he was now raking over your thighs, your skirt pushed up around your hips. You broke away from his lips, kissing down his neck instead, listening to the noises he made whenever you left a mark, whenever you ground against him just right. “Shit,” he gasped. “You’re- You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” You left another kiss just below his ear, before murmuring, “What is it?”

You could feel him all but shudder beneath you. “Fuck,” he groaned, then your name, before he looked you in the eye. You resisted the urge to dive right back in. “Let me eat you out,” he said, suddenly determined, though still flushed and dazed. “Please.”

All you could say was “What?” because, surely, this was one big dream.

“Please.” His hands hadn’t stilled, still rubbing shapes into your thighs, his hips rolling up against yours. “Can I?”

Your entire body was on fire. “Okay, yeah. Yes.”

He wasted no time flipping the both of you over, laying you against the bed so he could kiss down your neck. You barely had a moment to process, your hands moving to tangle in his hair, one of his knees slotted between your legs. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, prompting you to lift yourself slightly and help him get it off. Your bra came next. “You, too,” you murmured, pulling at his shirt and making him chuckle. He reached behind his head, tugging it off in one swift movement and abandoning it beside your shirt and bra on his freshly cleared floor.

One of his hands slid down your chest from your shoulders, enclosing one of your breasts, the thumb circling your nipple. You bit your lip and sighed, pulling him down for another kiss by the back of his neck.

Art let his hand trail from your chest down the sides of your stomach, then slotted his palm right between your legs, over your underwear. You gasped quietly, pulling away long enough for him to return his lips to your neck, your shoulders, your collar bone. You murmured a couple choice words as he started to move his palm, rubbing at your clit through the fabric. The dulled sensation was almost enough on its own, paired with the kisses he left against your chest. “Arthur,” you whined, tugging at his hair. “Don’t fucking tease me.”

A grin overtook his face at the use of his name, his hands only slowing down, tracing torturously slow circles over you. Art only snickered at your glare before hooking his fingers into the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down and leaving you in your skirt pushed up to your waist. He watched you carefully as he slid further down so that his head was between your legs. His finger only traced a line from your clit to the bottom of your hole before whatever restraint he had was gone, and his mouth was on you.

Art’s tongue flattened against you, the warmth and friction making your head fall back as your eyes fell closed. “Fuck,” you moaned, hands threading into his hair as he answered with an equally obscene noise, muffled against you. ‘Hungry’ didn’t even begin to describe him, his mouth falling into a vague rhythm, eyes closed blissfully, whining into your pussy like it was doing him just as much good as it was you.

You thought about asking him to finger you while he worked, but his tongue prodded at your entrance and almost immediately, words escaped you. You brought one hand up to your face, clasping it over your mouth to muffle your moans, but Art stopped suddenly, watching your face. You whined your confusion, and he reached out to tug at your hand. “I wanna hear you. Let me.”

You blinked at him, chest heaving, and murmured “Alright,” before watching his head dive right back between your thighs, one hand still intertwined with yours. You had no choice but to moan unabashedly, your other hand busy pulling at his hair. His free hand was wrapped around the outside of your thigh, pushing it in towards his head, so tightly you were sure it couldn’t be comfortable. But there he was, continuing to move his tongue against you like there was nothing else he’d rather do, whining and whimpering like you were his first meal in weeks. “Fuck, Art,” you cried, barely keeping your eyes open so you could watch him move. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

He groaned at that, relenting the pressure of your thighs against his head just long enough to reply: “That’s it, baby, please.” If he had anything else to say, he couldn’t keep himself off of you long enough to finish, already pushing your thighs back against his head, nose bumping against your clit as he bobbed up and down.

It seemed like that was all it took, really. You squeezed his hand and his head embarrassingly tight as you felt yourself tip over the edge, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Art kept up his rhythm as you cried out his name, your hips rolling against his face. He didn’t stop even when you’d come down, chest heaving, until you basically pushed him off, desperate for a moment of relief.

He kept a hand on your thigh, the other untangling from yours to push his blonde hair out of his eyes and look at you. He was breathing as hard as you were, you noticed. His mouth hung open as he panted, the entire bottom half of his face coated in saliva and your arousal. Fuck, he was pretty like this. “‘S good?”

You shook your head, beckoning him toward you and pulling him down by the back of his neck when he was close enough. “You’re unbelievable,” you murmured, lips against his almost before you were even done speaking. You didn’t mind the stickiness. You pulled back to look at him, then glanced down to the tent in his pants. “Lemme return the favor.”

Art let out a breathless chuckle. “I don’t think I’m gonna last that long,” he said, somewhat embarrassed. “Not if you’re the one touching me. Not after this.” He gestured to the shine still on his face, to your thighs beneath him. Your face burned, and your smile was so wide that your cheeks hurt.

You shrugged. “Lemme try anyway,” you said, before bringing his ear down to your lips, nipping at the lobe gently. “Please?”

He couldn’t say no to you.

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heartshapedmisery · 7 days

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𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 | art donaldson

summary ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ in which you and art can't seem to keep your hands to yourself after your first victorious win in weeks.

warnings ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex (please stay safe y'all), art references to being turned on by watching reader play tennis, power dynamics?, switch!reader, switch!art, semi-public!sex, praise kink, hair pulling, oral (fem!receiving), obsessive!art (he is literally obsessed with the reader omg), p in v sex, art and reader almost get caught lmao, lmk if i missed anything!

word count ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ 3.1k +

pairing ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ standford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader

PART 2 OF LOOSEN UP!

author’s note ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ if you haven't read part one, please do so before reading this! also i am a firm believer in art giving you aftercare after sex, no matter where it is in case you couldn't tell ;) i kinda rushed the ending sorry i just wanted to get it out in time :/ hope you enjoy!

publishing date ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ may 17th, 2024 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY

A breathy groan escaped your lips as your racket smacked the tennis ball across the net, your final attempt at winning points in the match. You intensively watched your opponent—some hot-shot blonde from North Carolina—as she darted to hit the ball back to you. Your breath hitched as you saw her ankle roll from the impact, making her legs give out beneath her and ultimately miss the ball.

The air was knocked out of your lungs as the ball bounced out of the court. The game was yours.

"Game, (L/N)," the announcer sounds over the PA system, cheers erupting from the stands. Your eyes searched for Art, before seeing him standing on the sideline clapping his hands proudly with a smile.

Ever since his visit to your apartment, the two of you had been inseparable. Your preceding professional relationship had blossomed into a personal one within the blink of an eye, and your once light-hearted repartee had become rather flirty and intense.

He couldn't seem to keep his hands off of you, and you couldn't seem to ignore how much you loved it. Whether it be at his place, in the locker rooms, or even on the fucking tennis court (it was late at night and dark, and of course, art had been adamant to make sure everyone had gone home before he proposed the idea.)

You were addicted to each other. Drunk on each other's touch, and you never wanted to get sober.

"You did great out there. Congratulations," his lush voice cuts into the sporadic ringing in your ears when you finally make your way over to him, your chest still buzzing after your win as the two of you walk off the court.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, and not just because Art's hand didn't leave the small of your back until you were out of everyone's view and walked down the somewhat empty hallway of the athletic center.

"You think so?" you pondered lightly, still trying to catch your breath as you caught his eye. You recognized the look on his face; it was one you had grown to know all too well. The way his lips parted slightly, and his eyes seemed to darken as they drank in your elated state.

It was a look of lust.

"Oh, I know so," he corrected you, his voice low. His arm snaked around your waist as the two of you came to a stop outside the women's bathroom, your chest flush against his as he pulled you into him.

"I couldn't take my eyes off of you," he admitted. "The way you lose yourself when you're out on that court, it's mesmerizing."

His gaze trailed from your face to your chest to your ass, drinking in your appearance. He had always loved the skirt you had decided to wear for today's match; just a simple, white tennis skirt that seemed to be just a little bit shorter than the rest and hugged you in all the right places.

"Oh yeah?" you tested, a small smirk tugging at your lips. A giggle escaped your lips as his hand ran down your hip before settling on your ass, giving it a good squeeze as he leaned into you.

"Yeah," he whispered against your lips, before pulling you in for a hungry kiss by the back of your neck with his free hand. You let out an excited moan from the back of your throat the second you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, completely enveloping himself in you.

"Fuck, you're killing me, sweetheart," he muttered to you once he finally pulled away, grasping your arm and pulling you into the women's bathroom behind him. Thankfully, there was nobody in there, or else it would've made for a very awkward conversation.

"You wanna do this now? Here?" you ask unsteadily as the two of you stumble over to the sink, looking around at the highly impractical place he had chosen to hook up with you.

"You did so well today," he told you sweetly. "You deserve a reward, baby."

The spot between your legs dampened at his words, your thighs rubbing together as he pushed you up against the sink with his hips, searching for any sort of relief.

"Yeah?" your worries washed away. You decided to have a little fun with this.

"You wanna be my trophy, baby?" you played lightly, running your hands through his hair. A slight gasp escaped your throat as you felt his erection press against your thigh, a dazed grin on his face.

"Always," he growled in your ear, his nose nuzzling the soft skin of your neck as he left sloppy open-mouthed kisses along the side of your jaw.

Carefully, his hands ran up and under the hem of your skirt, caressing the softness of your thighs before he hooked his fingers on your panties and tugged them down in one swift movement. A smirk cracked across his face as he tucked them into the back pocket of his shorts, the pale lace hanging out messily.

A surge of excitement ran through your veins as your eyes fell on the unlocked bathroom door. Anyone could walk in on the two of you and see just how well your tennis coach really treats you.

The mere thought itself drove you wild.

Quickly, he set you up on the sink and nudged your knees apart, giving him the perfect view of your soaked core as he sunk to his knees to be level with your lower half.

His eyes poured into yours as he pulled your legs over his shoulders, grasping your thighs firmly to keep them in place. The mere sight of him before you made a shaky whimper blow past your lips, your fingers moving to brush the stray strands of hair that hung over his light eyes.

"So, so pretty," you whispered, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips met your soft skin.

He pressed wet kisses along the inside of your thighs, slowly making his way to where he wanted you most. You shuddered deeply when you felt his tongue finally lay flat against your wet core, his nose budding against your clit as he delved into you as if you were his last meal.

"Oh my g-god," you whined, digging your heel into the muscle of his back, his grip on your thigh tight enough to leave a mark. He held you in place as you squirmed around at his touch. You simply couldn't keep still as his lips sucked at your wetness, his tongue lapping at you mercilessly.

A groan reverberated in his chest when your legs tightened around his head, your ankles interlocking and pulling him closer to you.

"Please," you whimpered, the vibrations of his low moans stimulating your core. Your eyes peered down as his hand moved to the crotch of his shorts, palming the erection he had gotten from the sweet taste of you.

It no doubt sent you over the edge, a moan falling from your lips as you watched him pleasure himself. You couldn't take it anymore; you needed to feel him.

"Art," you breathed, pulling him away from your core. His head lulled back lazily, his pretty eyes meeting yours as a dazed smirk bloomed across his lips. His chin was glistening with your slick. "Please fuck me."

He didn't hesitate to stand to his feet, his lips smashing against yours exasperatingly. Despite how much he loved pleasuring you with his tongue, you didn't need to tell him twice.

You could taste yourself on his tongue as he slipped it into your mouth, moaning against your lips. His behavior was obsessive, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you as close to him as possible as his clothed hard-on rutted against your bare core.

"See you what you do to me?" he whispered to you with a sigh, bringing your hand to the front of his shorts to feel him. You couldn't help but moan, taking it upon yourself to dip your fingers into his waistband and grasping him.

"It's a good thing I know how to control myself when you're the court," he laughed lightly. "Otherwise we'd have a real problem."

You nodded as you gently pumped him, excited at the thought of Art getting a boner while he watched you play. "Yeah? Do you like watching me play, Coach?"

He groaned into your neck at the nickname as you continued to jack him off, his balls stiff and his tip reddened. You were being such a tease and he hated it.

"I like watching you win," he suddenly pulled you off the counter and spun you around, bending your body over the sink.

"And you're a winner, right baby?" lips brushed against your ear as he caged you between his body and the counter. You could feel his dick pressed against your ass, eager to feel you.

"Yes," you whined, white-knuckling the counter as you could feel him moving around behind you, running his tip along your wet slit.

"Yes, what?" he was having fun with you now.

"Yes, Coach," you groaned, meeting his gaze in the mirror. His eyes were dark, and you could've sworn you saw a mischievous smirk flash across his face before he pushed himself into you swiftly.

His hips stuttered at the sound of the moan that fell from your lips, his grip on your hips tightening mercilessly.

You whimpered pathetically as he bottomed out inside of you, his pelvis bone flushed with the round of your ass. You stretched around him sweetly, watching his face contort in the mirror with pleasure.

"God, you're so tight," he breathed out, but his tone was almost desperate. His hips slowly began to move, which you were thankful for. The sweet burn of his cock sliding in and out of you was something you had only dreamed of, especially after the night at your apartment.

His free hand moved from its spot on your hip and reached around you to squeeze your right breast, his large and veiny hand cupping it perfectly. You couldn't help but moan at the dense feeling as it heightened your pleasure, your core clenching around him subconsciously.

"Feels so good," you mumbled as his hand moved from your chest to your hair, his slender fingers combing through it before giving it a harsh tug, the force pulling your back to his chest roughly.

"That's it, baby," he groaned in your ear, not letting up on his rhythmic thrusts up into you. "You can take it."

He watched you through the mirror as your eyes rolled back, his grip on your hair still tight enough to hold you in place against his chest. He took the opportunity to attack your neck with kisses, trailing from the spot right beneath your jaw down to your exposed collarbone.

His lips sent you into a frenzy, the sensation making the familiar coil in your stomach tighten as it mixed with the pleasure between your legs. You wouldn't last much longer at this rate, and Art could feel you coming undone with each thrust.

"Gonna come for me, baby?" he cooed gently to you as he met your gaze, holding it intensely as you nodded lazily. He wasn't far off either, so he quickened his pace to bring the both of you to your climaxes.

"So good," was all you were able to say, the words tumbling out of your mouth in a chant as he panted behind you from his relentless momentum.

Before you knew it, warmth spread throughout your lower belly as he pulled your orgasm out of you with a helpless cry, your head lulling back against his chest as your muscles tensed. An unsteady groan ripped from his chest as he sighed into your hair, his eye screwing shut as his release washed over him as well.

A string of incoherent pleas fell from your mouths simultaneously, the both of you in utter awe of one another. It took a moment for both of you to come back down from your highs, speechless from what had just unexpectedly unfolded in the women's bathroom.

Art helped you look presentable again after he tucked himself away, moving the stray hairs from your face and slipping your underwear back up your smooth legs for you. You watched him with a smile, elated at the way his hands lingered on your hips as he flattened your skirt down.

"Good as new, sweetheart," he placed a kiss to your temple as the two of you moved to walk out the door until it swung open.

You were met with a disgruntled old lady as the two of you stood awkwardly in the middle of the bathroom, unsure of what to say.

Oh shit, you thought. You would guess Art was thinking the same thing based on the deer-in-headlights look that he had on his face.

"Excuse me," she brushed past the both of you with a confused look, before disappearing into one of the stalls. She wanted no business with whatever she had just walked in on.

You looked at Art, finding it hard to hold back the laugh that bubbled up from your chest.

"Let's get out of here before we traumatize more little old ladies..."

#art donaldson #challengers #mike faist #art donaldson smut #mike faist smut #scarlet was here!

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mikedfaist · 24 days

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Boyfriend!Art Donaldson Headcanon: Part I

The first time Art ever lays eyes on you, he becomes enthralled, but that didn’t stop Patrick from calling dibs.

“You can’t call dibs on a person—not that person.”

“Hey, it’s a free world. We can share.”

When he first meets you, he is already too late because Patrick is at your side leaving a dust trail behind him, offering you a drink. He watches the two of you interact for a few minutes before Patrick turns around to face Art, gesturing in his direction. That’s when your eyes meet, and you offer a welcoming smile.

When Patrick invited you to come back to their hotel room later, Art doubted you’d ever show up.

“She probably thinks we just want to fuck her.”

“We do want to fuck her.”

“Yeah, but…what’s going to happen? She chooses one of us and the other sits in the bathroom the rest of the night?”

When you do show up, Art is suddenly faced with the realization that maybe he won’t be the one you choose, and the idea of sitting in the bathroom while his best friend fucks you makes him want to throw up.

When you move to sit on the bed, you stare directly at Art as you gesture for him to join you. He looks back at Patrick with hesitance, but with awkward limbs, pushes himself up to join you.

“What about…” He gulps, quickly glancing down at Patrick, who is still sitting politely on the floor, and then back at you.

“He can stay and watch if he wants.”

And that was the beginning.

You both attend Stanford together, and most evenings you join him at his practices.

He loves to stay over at your dorm whenever your roommate is gone.

He also loves to be little spoon.

Neck kisses are his kryptonite. The easiest way to get him to do anything.

You once told him how wet you get hearing the sounds he makes on the court, and he’s never undressed you quick enough.

He also doesn’t think he’s ever came that hard before in his life.

He loves to buy you flowers.

He also loves it when you play with his hair; it’s the easiest way for him to fall asleep.

When Patrick comes to visit, there is a definite unspoken jealousy that radiates from him, but Art pretends like he doesn’t see it.

But it also doesn’t stop him from asking if he can come back to his dorm room later after his competition… if you’ll be there, that is.

Patrick will swallow his pride if it means he can get off watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend.

Every time it happens, you and Art promise each other it’s the last time…but it never is.

You two have date nights every Friday, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t the one thing a week he looked forward to.

He calls you his good luck charm, and you are his #1 fan.

This wasn’t the most boyfriend!Art, but I can definitely do a part 2… I kept getting sidetracked…

#mike faist #challengers #art x reader #art donaldson #art headcanon #art donaldson x reader

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kaleldobrev · 9 months

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Please Don't Leave

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean's lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn't know what he would ever do without you

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (3x), Fluff, Vulnerable/Angry Dean

Authors Note: The gif makes me sad | This might seem a little non canon but at the same time I honestly feel like Dean would react this way (fight me if you want, but I said what I said) | I just love this man so fucking much | Dream/Flashbacks are in italics | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean didn’t have a lot of consistencies in his life, but you were one of them. Out of everyone he had known in his life, you were one of the only people that had remained with him through all the heartbreak, all of the death, all of the blood, sweat, and tears that this life had. You had been through it all with him: Sam going to Stanford and leaving him behind, his fathers death, him selling his soul, the year that Sam went to Hell, the year the two of you were in Purgatory, the few months he was a demon, his bloodlust fueled by the Mark, him being possessed by Michael. He had an endless list of things that the two of you had been through together, things that would cause any normal or rational person to throw in the towel; but not you. “You can’t get rid of me Dean Winchester, not even if you kill me yourself.” You had joked. And that was something that he had almost done – and on several occasions too. And yet, you never left him. “I guess I’m just stupid.” You said. “Or maybe the sex me and you have is just that good.”

The sex he had with you, now that was something. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced; and he has had quite a lot of sex during his lifetime (not that he bragged about it of course). When the two of you initially met, it was only supposed to be a working relationship, a friends with benefits sort of deal. But eventually it turned into more. He wasn’t sure where him or you had gotten your wires crossed but they did; and it turned into you and him always finding each other at the end of the night regardless of the different men and women that had hit on both of you at the bar you two were at.

The sex used to be quick, usually done in either a drunken haze or after a tough hunt. But it eventually turned into something that either one of you would initiate through soft touches: a kiss on the forehead, a simple hand hold, or cuddling into each other. Once, in the middle of sex, he wasn’t sure why he had said it but he did. He kind of just blurted it out. “I love you.” Now that was something he never thought he’d ever say during sex before. But here you were beneath him, staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours that you frequently had during sex and said, “I love you too.” It was something he didn’t expect.

Dean didn’t know what he could or would possibly do if you weren’t in his life; and that was something he didn’t want to think about. But it was something that has been an unavoidable thought as of late. Waking up to you was one of the worst but best things after a nightmare of losing you. He would wake up in a panic, his heart racing, sweating; afraid that you were gone for good this time. But without fail, every single time you would be right there next to him. Either sound asleep or awake enough to tell him, “It’s okay, I’m right here.” He would always reply the same way. “Just…please don’t leave.” It was a simple yet complicated sentence. “I’m not going to. I’d never leave you.” Those words that you always uttered back should have been comforting to him, but it was just an empty promise – even though he knows that’s how you never intended it to sound. In your heart you loved him deeply, and he knew that. He knew that you’d never leave him; the two of you have been through everything together. But when it came to this life, it was hard to make and keep promises like that.

“Dean, I just can’t do this anymore I’m sorry.” Your words had cut into him like a knife. Like he’d been shot hundreds of times. The torture he received from Hell combined with the loss of his mother was child’s play compared to what he was currently feeling. He just started blankly at the two duffel bags at your feet as you stood in the doorway of the room the two of you shared. Well, formally shared that is. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” You asked, your question snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“There’s nothing to say.” Of course there were hundreds, no thousands of things that he had wanted to say to you, but he knew that he couldn’t say any of it. As much as he wanted to beg for you to stay, he wasn’t going to make you stay. Once you made up your mind that was it; there was no convincing you.

You looked at him with a confused expression. “You don’t even want to know why I’m leaving?” You asked, and Dean simply shook his head. “Why not?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” He tried to keep his voice even, to make you believe that he was okay. But he could tell that you knew he wasn’t (you knew him long enough to know when he was or wasn’t okay).

“Dean.” You said, your voice sounding more heartbroken than his.

“It’s alright. You don’t…you don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, taking a seat on the bed you two once shared.

“I feel like you deserve an explanation. We were together for almost twenty years Dean.” You sat down next to him on the bed. He had just wanted to push you away or wrap you in his arms. Two completely differently reactions, but that’s the way he felt. “Dean.” You touched his shoulder and he flinched, you quickly removed your hand. “I love you, and I know you know that but –”

“Please just…stop talking. I really don’t want to hear what you have to say.” His voice was more hurt now, and he could feel himself trying not to say or do anything that he was going to regret. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t want you to have to see that, despite seeing him do it so many times before. “Just, leave if you’re going to leave.” You didn’t move, simply just staring at him. “Go!” He snapped, and that’s when you got up.

You walked over to your bags, slinging one over your shoulder and holding the other one in your hands. “Goodbye Dean.” You said, before walking out of the room. For a while he heard the sound of your boots down the hall, but they suddenly became faint, almost inaudible. The Bunker door opened and closed again. You were gone. Gone for good this time.

“You said you’d never fucking leave.” He whispered to himself. “Said you’d never fucking leave me.” He pounded the bed with his fist. “You fucking lied!” He got up from the bed and he felt himself start to lose control; no longer in control of the emotions that had been building up when he had started watching you pack up your bags.

Dean woke up abruptly, sitting up. He was panicked, his heart racing. His breaths were heavy, his chest moving up and down. He rubbed his face, trying to fully wake himself up. There was no way he would be getting back to sleep for a while; not after that nightmare. “Y/N -” he began to say as he looked over to his right side; your side of the bed. You were gone. “Sweetheart?” He asked, his hand reached out and touched the emptiness next to him: it was cold.

He looked up at the door to the bedroom which was slightly ajar. The only light in the room came seeping in from the hallway. He didn’t remember having the door open, the door was always shut whenever the two of you slept. Despite how safe the Bunker was, sleeping with the door closed added an extra layer of safety, not just for him, but for you as well.

A shadow appeared, blocking some of the light. He reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, slightly gripping his gun that he always kept there. Before he could fully wrap his hand around the weapon you squeaked inside the room and shut the door again quietly. A huge amount of relief washed over him in that moment as he let go of the gun and closed the drawer. “Dean?” You questioned, upon hearing the drawer close. “Baby are you okay?” You asked, walking to sit on his side of the bed. He looked at you as you placed a hand on his cheek. Your eyes full of worry.

“You were…” his eyes flickered to your side of the bed that had been empty when he woke up before looking back at you again. “You were gone. When I woke up you…”

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You reassured him, your voice calm.

“Where did you go?” He asked tiredly.

“The bathroom. I really, really needed to pee.” You said, Dean chuckled a little at your comment. “You know I wouldn’t willingly leave you right?” You reassured him again. You felt him nod in your hand.

“I know.” His voice sounding just a hint sad. “I uh, I feel stupid for freaking out.” The sentence was a whisper.

“There’s nothing to feel stupid about Dean.” Another reassurance. Dean had every right to react the way he did; he had lost so much, even before you had met him. You had been with him through everything. Witnessed so much loss and endured just as much. “Was it a nightmare?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was the…the one where you break up with me.” You hated that one just as much as he did.

“I’m never going to break up with you. I love you too damn much.” You said, giving him a smile. You crawled into bed next to him getting underneath the covers. “Come here.” You held out your arms for him, and without hesitation he went into them. He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head on your chest; your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your fingers started playing with his hair, gently massaging his head.

The two of you sat there in silence, both of you with your eyes closed. You weren’t sleeping, but you were unsure if he was. Even if he wasn’t, his breathing was starting to get more even, he was starting to calm down. Hearing the sound of your heartbeat always calmed him down. “Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yes my love?” You asked, opening your eyes.

He looked up at you briefly, tiredly. “I know I don’t tell you enough but…I’m really lucky to have you in my life. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” He kissed your neck, as that was one of the only spots he could currently reach.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life too.” You responded, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

“And Sweetheart?” He asked again.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Thank you…thank you for not leaving me.” His voice sounding a little pained. The sound of this sentence had broken your heart a bit. Leaving Dean was never an option for you, no matter what had happened between the two of you. Being with him wasn’t easy, but you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He was your person, the love of your life, your soulmate. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him on the top of the head again, and you could feel his smile.

That night, Dean didn’t have another nightmare, but he did dream. He had one of his favorite dreams; one that always gave him a sense of calmness and normalcy. The two of you would be just lying in bed together watching some random horror movie on tv. It was something that the two of you have done hundreds, no, thousands of times, so there would be no reason why it would be his so called favorite dream. What made it his favorite though was purely based on one small detail, a detail that made it known to him that it was in fact a dream: wedding rings would be on both of your fingers.

Someday maybe, he thought.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be on a tag list, just message me!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #reader insert #female reader #Dean x you #dean x reader

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castiwls · 26 days

Text

"uh-oh, i'm falling in love."

being Bobby's adopted daughter and falling in love with Dean... [requested - anon]

You were around 15 when your parents were killed in a hunting incident and as a result, Bobby ended up taking you in.

You’d spent the first few months sulking around the house, something which began to worry Bobby as months passed and your behaviour seemed no different.

He knew he had to break your behaviour somehow but he was completely stumped. That was until one day he woke up to John quickly shoving his sons in the door before running off to do go knows what.

Silently cursing the man out he quickly invited the two boys inside before continuing with breakfast (now for 4 people).

“Who are they?” You looked up from the book you’d been reading, frowning in slight confusion at the two boys who were currently standing in the doorway. The younger of the two smiled brightly before almost tripping over himself to see what you were reading while the older silently gapped in the doorway. Since when did Bobby have a daughter?

After this, you quickly found friends in both the boys.

While Sam was someone who you could talk to about lore and any other books you might have been reading, Dean was someone who you were able to fully confide in.

Over the three weeks the boys stayed you and Dean quickly became inseparable and for the first time in months, you didn't feel grief-stricken constantly. You actually felt happy.

Over the years Sam and Dean became a constant in your life. As you grew older Bobby began letting you go on hunts with the Winchesters (something which Dean enjoyed more than he would admit.)

Over time though you felt a slight shift in your feelings towards the older boy. Every time you saw him or even heard his voice butterflies would swarm in your stomach and your cheeks would quickly grow hot.

The shrill ringing of your phone pulled you from your book. A small frown played on your lips as you noted the name on your screen. “Hello?” Placing your book down you crossed your legs sitting up properly on your bed. “Hey. I didn’t wake you right?” Dean sounded sheepish almost as he spoke. At the sound of his voice, a small burst of butterflies exploded in your stomach. “no..no I was awake.”

Late-night phone calls quickly became an almost daily occurrence whenever you weren't together, and when you were together these phone calls were exchanged for late-night diner trips just the two of you.

Every day you felt yourself falling harder and harder for Dean Winchester and little did you know he felt the same.

After Sam had gone to Stanford Dean had showed up on your doorstep only hours later, his eyes red as he’d quietly asked to stay the night.

He’d ended up staying for a few weeks after that. You’d spent every day together over that time simply listening to him talk about what had happened between his dad and brother and how he was scared for Sam being on his own.

As happy as you were that Sam had gotten out it broke your heart slightly to see how Dean was handling the situation.

Over this time you’d found yourself more than once falling asleep beside him (something which Bobby wasn’t too happy about) and you’d also felt yourself grown closer and closer to him.

He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable around you, something which you knew was hard for him. The idea that he trusted you enough simply left your heart fluttering in your chest.

During these few weeks, Dean quickly found himself falling further and further in love with you. He’d known for a while now that he had feelings for you but the way you’d allowed him to unload onto you and made him realise how utterly in love with you he truly was.

One night when you’d both been sat on one of the old cars in the scrap yard he finally felt his feelings bubble over.

The world was quiet as you and Dean both sat watching the stars above. You knew he had to leave soon, his dad had been relentless with his calls saying that Dean needed to come back to his job and that he’d had enough time. Truthfully you didn’t want him to leave. Over the last few weeks, you’d grown used to the warmth of him beside you. “My dad’s coming in the morning.” Dean turned to face you. “He insisted this time.” He frowned, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “What time?” You asked quietly turning to look at him. “He didn’t give one,” Dean answered. You both fell slightly for a moment, simply gazing into each other's eyes. As if being pulled in by a magnet you felt your body move on its own until you met Dean halfway. As his lips pressed against yours you felt his hand cup the back of your head while your own moved to his knee.

After that night your relationship changed. Neither of you actually asked the question but the unspoken promise was there. Dean Winchester had stolen your heart and it seemed you had also stolen his.

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kisses4kaia · 15 days

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mmm sub!patrick gripping on your tits when you bounce up and down on him. he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off of ur tits bc of how much they were glistening w sweat

right! (fwb!stanford!patrick x fem!reader, you already know it’s gonna be filthy, mdni.)

patrick never asked for permission. he was unlike art in that way, taking what he wants when he wants it and only stopping to see your consent.

but he was so much like his best friend when he got to touch you. it damn near put him under a hex, the bounce of your tits in front of his face, highlighted by an afternoon glow cracking through the dorm room’s blinds. your sweat gleamed off of your collarbone and a tear swam down the valley of your breasts.

patrick never asked for permission, and he wasn’t going to start as his mouth attached to the inner fat of your left boob, swiping his tongue to catch the salty secretion and knead your right tit with a soft hand. he swirled his tongue around your nipple a few times, not neglecting her twin as his hand flicked and rolled the sensitive bud in tandem with his wet muscle. as much as patrick loved to drink in your sounds, he needed to see you, and this position didn’t provide much a view.

regrettably, his head was soon level with yours, and his hands on your hips travelled to your chest.

it’s not to keep himself on the ground, it isn’t even to pleasure you, but his gripping and kneading of the fat is for no other purpose than to feel you. every part of you fascinated him, and when your tits were shining like a sin, the most worthwhile sin at that, he had to take them in his hands and feel.

you’ve noticed his sounds have died down and his eyes have shut. poor boy, he was being fucked stupid. “open your eyes, baby,” your hands warmed the backs of his, still welded onto your chest. he nodded, a dumb ‘mhm’ muttered, but by his lack of actually obeying your imperative, you knew he hadn’t registered. “eyes, patrick. give me your eyes,” moving his finger on your breasts to run over and button at your hard peaks.

he understood this time, and as his eyes opened lazily, you sped up your pace, hips going sore but never slowing down.

“do you wanna cum?” you ask upon feeling his hips stutter up into yours, and he nods. “ask.”

patrick had the audacity to scoff. “if you don’t ask, i’ll never let you stop coming. ask,” the reiteration of the order is posed as a warning, and patrick groans at your growling tone.

“can i cum?” it seemed to pain him to ask, but you pouted pitifully at him. “what’s the magic word?”

patrick zweig never asked for permission, and he certainly never begged, but with your tits in his hands and your vice of a cunt squeezing his cock, he had no mind to hold to his self-established beliefs. “please—please, may i cum?”

he was so much closer now, so much more desperate, and you simpered at his politeness. he watches for your nod, and upon catching your go-ahead, he’s flooding the condom with warm, slimy spend and squishing your sweaty breasts together, sticking against the other before slowly pulling apart.

“thanks, mami.” he peeled his hand from your chest and kissed the back of yours, just before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“anytime.” patrick gives you a high five after you redress and you’re gone.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#my brain is melting #he makes me so hot and bothered #fucking hell #angelnon 🤍#kai's got mail <3📑#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig blurb #patrick zweig imagine #josh o’connor smut #josh o'connor #unproofread.. 😴😴#kaia writes patrick

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months

Text

Caretaker

Castiel & Winchester!reader (platonic)

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You get to meet everyone’s favorite Angel, and the two of you become besties.

Warnings: kinda strays from canon in places, I don’t have the episodes memorized guys.

“You take care of her, ok?”

Up to this point, Castiel hadn’t taken much notice of the youngest Winchester; she wasn’t one of the vessels, so she was in no danger, and of little importance.

But at Dean’s words, Cas finally seemed to see you. You were just a kid, growing up around so much danger. And now Dean was placing you in his care.

“I will,” he promised both Dean and himself.

You didn’t say a word as Dean and Sam left. You understood why they had to go, and you had to stay; they were trying to hide from Michael and Lucifer long enough to formulate a plan, but if they were found, you would be a liability. You knew Castiel was the most capable being to protect you, but seeing as you didn’t know Cas very well, you weren’t exactly comfortable with this arrangement.

You didn’t know when you would see your big brothers again; aside from hell and Stanford, rarely had a day gone by where you weren’t with Sam and Dean.

“So what now?” You asked finally, and Castiel seemed to snap out of his daze.

“Now I take you somewhere safe.”

…

The day passed uneventfully, which Cas took as a good sign. What wasn’t a good sign was the fact that Cas couldn’t think of a single thing to say to you, and he could tell the silence was making you antsy. Well, that and the fact that your brothers were on the run from two archangels.

He found a motel in the middle of nowhere to stop at, and he waited rather impatiently while you got some sleep. The further he could get you from Sam and Dean, the safer you would be, but Dean had decided non-angelic modes of travel were safer, as archangels weren’t that familiar with backroads and crappy motels.

Cas woke you up early, surprised when you seemed exhausted—wasn’t four hours enough? That’s what Dean claimed he got. You followed Cas regardless, although your eyes were drooping before he even started the car.

For the next several hours, Cas couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. He kept doing a mental checklist—he had you, you’d slept, you’d showered, you had your phone, you had extra clothes—but it did nothing to rid him of the feeling. The last thing he wanted was to mess this up, the boys had been so reluctant to part from you. What was he doing wrong?

“Castiel?”

Cas turned his head to look at you when you spoke. He had barely heard you, as you spoke slightly above a whisper, your voice timid and hesitant. Were you scared of him?

“What is it?” He asked.

“I—um…I-I know we’re in a hurry, but, um…could we get some food?”

Oh no.

“I knew I forgot something,” Cas hissed under his breath, sighing in annoyance. You, who hadn’t been able to make out his words and only saw the annoyance, instantly backed off.

“I-I mean if there isn’t time I-“

“No, no,” Cas insisted. “Of course we have time, you need to eat. I’m sorry, I forgot.” A thought crossed Cas’s mind. “Did you eat yesterday?”

“Um…no,” you replied, still timid.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I-I didn’t want…um, I know that you’re-you’re trying to help me get away so-so I, um…”

You seemed unable to form full sentences, and Cas once again wondered what he was doing wrong to make you so nervous.

“If you need anything, I want you to ask,” Cas interrupted.

You just nodded and went back to looking out the window. Once Cas got you fed and back on the road, he made himself a promise. He had to do better, even though it was awkward and he had no clue how to talk to you. Clearly the silence of the last two days had made you nervous, so intimidated by the angel protecting you that you didn’t even want to communicate basic needs.

“I’m sure we’ll have you back to your brothers in no time,” Cas began.

You smiled weakly at him. “Yeah. And you can get back to your angel stuff.” You ducked your head suddenly. “I’m-I’m sorry you got stuck babysitting. I know you’d rather be finding a way to defeat Lucifer and Michael with Sam and Dean.”

Cas was silent for a few seconds.

“Well, it’s true I would like to help them. But keeping you safe is more important.”

You scoffed, “Me? Why?”

Cas was surprised. “We all care about you. We don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

“And why would an Angel care what happens to me?”

“Because you’re my friend.”

That brought you up short.

“I…I am?”

“Of course.”

“I-I thought…” again you were unable to look at Cas. “I-I just kinda thought that you agreed to this to placate Sam and Dean…be-because you need them on your side.”

Cas wasn’t sure whether to feel bad for you or be offended. “You thought that?” He could tell that his hurt was bleeding into his tone. You noticed it too.

“I-I mean you’re an angel,” you quickly explained. “You have way more important things to worry about than me.”

“So…so you thought that I didn’t care about you…and you didn’t blame me for it?”

You just shrugged.

Cas didn’t know what to say. He most certainly couldn’t just fix your self image issues, he wasn’t equipped for that, but he could at least assure you of one thing.

“Well it’s not true. I do care about you, and that’s why I’m here. I want you to be safe.”

You didn’t respond, but Cas could see the smile you were trying to hide.

…

Something clicked after that. Cas didn’t know what it was, or how it happened, but suddenly the awkward silence between the two of you disappeared, replaced by non-stop conversation.

He told you all about heaven and some angels that had been his friends, you told him all about your human experience, and explained to him some general human things that he still hadn’t managed to grasp.

“So…tweeting is no longer just about birds?”

“Nope, now it’s an internet thing. I don’t think we should get you into that, though.”

“That’s probably wise,” Castiel agreed.

…

All too soon, things changed again. After a couple of weeks on the run, you again became withdrawn and quiet. A whole day went by without a single word spoken before Cas finally decided to address the issue.

“You’ve been quiet.”

“Yeah.”

When it became clear that this was the only answer Cas would get, he persisted.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m worried,” you sighed. “And I…I miss Sam and Dean.” Cas heard the strain in your voice when you mentioned your brothers.

“They’re fine, they called just last night. I’m sure you’ll see them again soon.”

“It’s been weeks, Cas, and we’re no closer to an answer. It’s starting to seem like…like we’re just gonna run until we burn out.”

“You can’t think like that,” Cas said.

“Why not, if it’s true?”

“It’s not,” Cas insisted. “We have to have faith.”

“In what?”

“In Sam and Dean. We—you have to trust that they’ll to anything—anything—to get back to you. They’ll find a way, and you’ll see them again soon.” Cas promised as he pulled the car into yet another motel. He stepped out, and you with him. You were quiet for a minute before—

“Hey…hey Cas?”

“Yeah?”

You hesitated, staring at the angel for a moment before making a decision. You lunged forwards, wrapping your arms around your new best friend.

“Thanks.”

Castiel smiled as he brought his arms around you, holding you as though he could hug away all your worries and loneliness.

“Of course, little one.”

#castiel #spn cas #spn Castiel #castiel & reader #castiel x reader #castiel x winchester!reader #Castiel & Winchester reader #castiel & winchester!reader #castiel Novak #supernatural #dean winchester #dean and sam #supernatural dean #the winchesters #sam winchester #winchesters x sister

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angelsdean · 10 months

Text

a very specific headcanon i have that i've just written into one of my longer wips (so you won't see the scene for an age) is that john is kinda a dick abt food and dean's eating habits. and he's just. so oblivious to the amount that his kids are suffering when he's gone. because dean sure as hell is not gonna bring up how the money is never enough, how they're near starving toward the end of some weeks. how they've relied on charity more than once. so when john comes back and gets them big full meals and dean especially practically inhales his food (bc he's hungrier, bc he's given more of his portions to sammy) john chides him to slow down, it'll make himself sick etc etc. but dean struggles. and he's always SO eager for burgers and pie and carb-y filling things. because he's starving. but he gets a reputation for "eating junk." john teases him for it. or berates him for it when he's feeling especially mean. when dean's older, stanford era, and they meet up for a hunt and get lunch dean still digs into his food a little too quickly, he asks the waitress for pie with a little too much gusto, and john shakes his head, laughing, saying it's a good thing dean's a hunter, it's a good thing he's got the grueling work to keep him fit or else all those burgers and pies would've definitely caught up to him by now. laughs at how dean still eats too fast, "you've done that since you were a kid. never grew out of it, huh?" and dean bites his cheek, bites back a remark about why he always ate so fast, why he's still always squirreling away food and jumping at every "free food" "free samples" opportunity even now when money is easier to come by

#reading stonelions' if only maybe and then yesterday reminded me of this specific headcanon #i don't know what to tag this but i feel i need to put some tw's #so ask to tag if i missed something #tw food insecurity #tw food issues #tw childhood neglect #tw body shaming #fuck john winchester #young dean

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fluffykiddosstuff · 9 months

Text

stanford and stanley pines fighting for you (headcanons)

i just played swooning over stans and...help i'm so obsessed with these two now..here is littles headcanons for them when they are both in love with you :-)

warnings : swearing (thank you stanley), gn!reader, using they/them pronouns, mention of child abuse

context : the kids are gone, the grunkles are on adventures, so to their surprise when they came back for a month, they saw you in the living room (stanley almost hit you with a stick if ford and soos didn't got him), soos explain to them that you got banished from your home and came to the shack late at night under the rain. Pitty hitting them since they know damn well what a lonely life is, they let you stay and life goes on..well not as they expected...

stanley pines :

at first he tries to deny what he feels, you are friends, right ?

if you laugh at his jokes, swear with him against things he dislikes (tv-shows, young people ect..), and that you help him annoy poeple by stealing and other things ? My man is head over heals

you can see he start to grow fond of you when he wants to protect you even more than before, especially since he knows what is gravity falls made of

when you where gone for shopping with soos, he decided it was time to annonce it to his dear twin brother

he would talk about it while watching a romance movie with ford (even tho he said he didn't wanted to watch)

"you know, i start to kinda like them..but like like them you see.."

the pills doesn't pass well when ford says he likes you too

stan is definitely the most childish one

"let's make a bet sixer ! the first to got a date with them wins !"

he likes to come in while ford tries to show you something or even tries to speak to you

he even broke down ford's clock so he would be late to your weekly monster's chase

he still as limits of course, ford is his twin brother after all, and it's only little jokes that doesn't harm anyone right ?

will definitly show off with his boxing skills or by putting a nice suit (for exemple the one in the gif) while you all go out together for a party or something, will try to do sport everyday but heh, he is a little bit too old to do those things daily..

gives you his jacket when you are outside with him, even if you aren't cold, when he sees ford's face when he smells his cologne on you while you both work on something, i'ts worth it

gives you flowers and little gifts, puts them on your bed for you to find when you come back

verbally says what he thinks about you, while ford can't even say two lines in a phrase when all he wanted to say is that your outfit was pretty

stanford pines :

he mainly start to realise he likes you when you helped him with his reasearches for a creature, he is amazed by how much you are interested in his work and doesn't hesitate to take you as an assistant and answer all of your questions

man did he regret telling stan's about his feelins for you, now his life is a living hell (sometimes he thinks about going back in the other dimension by how stan can be extremely annoying, really)

you only get free time with him when you are both in the forest to hunt monsters, you talk for hours about many toppics

smarter than stan, he tries to make you more open around him, asking you about personnal stuff and trying to comfort you when things gets too hard for you to tell, he even experienced to make hugs (bc my dude is awkard) and he purposelly hugs you in front of stan while you are crying about something related from your abusive parents, bonus point if you say : "oh ford..what would i do without you..", he would look at his twin, sticking out his tongue in a proud grin, revenge is a plate you eat cold they said

when you are all watching a show on the t-v and that it's his turn to choose the movie, even if he is dying to watch a documentary, he puts an horror movie and sits next to you, watching you take his hand as a loud noises his heard or hugs you if you are too scared

when you both work and you pass out on a table, he first puts his long jacket on you, and if it gets too late, he takes you in his arms to put you in your bed, all while him and stan are having a "who is gonna look the more angry at eachother" contest

when stan swears , he likes to take him back, especially if you don't like that either (or if it's not the right moment or the right place to do those) of course it doesn't stop him for saying : "for fuck's sake" or "fucking little nerd" while you laugh with ford

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crazychaoticizzy · 11 months

Text

Slutty Red Dress

The very second Eren saw that purity ring on your finger, he knew he needed to have you for himself. Lucky for him, you're trying to figure out the perfect way to piss off your parents.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, all characters are of age, modern au, college au, fuckboy!Eren, Catholic!Reader, drinking, Fem!Reader, brief mentions of homophobia, smut, oral (f receiving), public fingering, exhibition, virginity loss, dirty talk?, unprotected sex, creampie, light choking, degradation (kind of?), praise, mating press, probably unrealistic but that's fine, definitely not beta read, proof read or even reread by me, let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 4.6k

Masterlist

AOT Masterlist

The moment Eren Yeager saw that purity ring sparkling on your finger was the moment he knew he was the one that needed to take your virginity.

He didn't even know you all that well—you were just an awkward acquaintance that sat beside his best friend all four years of high school. He only ever saw you in passing, be it walking past you in the hallways or across the cafeteria laughing with your friends.

He never paid you any mind until one day, the day you turned sixteen, you walked into school with a ring on your finger.

You wore it everyday, and Eren eventually asked around and found out it was a purity ring your parents had given you.

Since then he'd been doting on you, finding reasons to sit near you or talk to you. He'd started greeting you in the hallways and waving to you in the lunchroom.

He practically stalked your Instagram page to see if you had a boyfriend and learn any other information about you. That was how he found out you were a devoted Christian waiting to give yourself away until marriage. To his knowledge you remained single throughout all of high school, hardly showing an interest in anyone.

That same routine had gone on for years, but the effort proved to be fruitless because you always either sneaked away before he had a chance at a proper conversation or were surrounded by your friend group.

When the first year of college came around he prayed to God that you hadn't moved out of the city to attend some fancy ivy league school. You had always been a million times smarter than everyone in your graduating class and he knew the list of extracurriculars you'd participated in over the years went on for miles. Any college would be lucky to have you.

But when the first semester came around, you were there, coming out of the campus Starbucks holding a mystery drink.

With that fucking purity ring on your finger.

He was almost surprised—he remembered you saying towards the end of your senior year that you had planned to go to Stanford, he'd even heard later in the summer that you had been accepted. What baffled him was why you would choose Paradis University over the dozens of much better schools you applied to and (most likely) got accepted into.

After he digging around he found out that your parents had hidden all your acceptance letters and forged rejection letters instead. Apparently they didn't want you going where they couldn't keep a close eye on you.

It piqued Eren's interest, especially because from what he had seen you'd never shown interest in a romantic relationship.

The first couple weeks you had seemed pretty down, but soon enough you were back to the smiling, innocent girl Eren was used to.

—

He often saw you at parties, standing in the corner drinking from a plastic water bottle while you either scrolled on your phone or observed from the side. You never wore anything too out there or revealing, normally going for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew you were the designated driver for your friend group, and had tried multiple times to approach you only to be dragged back into the crowd by the girl he'd been talking to before you arrived.

He remembered the first time he saw you at a party, actively rejecting a guy hitting on you while you scrolled on your phone. It had been the first college party Eren had attended, and he remembered leaning over to whisper, "I'm gonna fuck her," in Armin's ear.

His gaze never left you, and when Armin turned his head to see who Eren was talking about he laughed.

Eren had raised his eyebrows at Armin as if to ask what was so funny.

Armin slowly nodded, softly chuckling. "Good luck with that. Have you met her?"

"Of course I have. She seems easy enough."

Arming laughed again, taking a sip of the off-brand beer in his hands. "Seems. She definitely isn't. Y'know how many guys have hit on her in the past? Plenty during the classes we've had together alone. She always rejected them, but not just that. She would destroy their egos, dude. Not to mention her parents are fucking psychos."

"Right, they forged rejection letters from ivy league schools just so she would have no choice but to stay where they could watch her," Eren said absentmindedly. Truth be told, he wasn't listening to a word Armin said, instead watching as you continued to give curt responses to whoever hit on you.

"They don't let her out of their sight. Ever. See her over there?" Armin vaguely motioned to the couch across the room, where a redhead wearing a tight green dress sat. "She's someone her parent's hired to follow her around and keep an eye on her."

Eren glanced over at the girl before his gaze returned to Armin. "And how do you know all this?"

Armin shrugged. "I'm the only person she talks to that isn't a church friend or was introduced by her parents. She tells me stuff she wouldn't dare tell them."

"So she knows she's being watched?"

"Of course she does. She doesn't know about the letters, though." Armin took another sip of his beer as Eren hummed, glancing back at you. He gently slapped Eren's arm when he was drifting from reality again. "Don't try anything. She's a sweet girl and doesn't need shit like you getting her in trouble with her parents."

Eren held his hands up in mock defense. "I wasn't even doing anything!"

Armin glared at him, the same scolding face he'd been giving Eren for years when he did something wrong. Eren rolled his eyes, dragging Armin to go play beer pong.

Three years later Eren was surprised your parents hadn't married you off already, purity ring still sparkling on your finger.

This was the year. He was determined to sleep with you at some point. Whether it be during the fall or spring semester, it would happen.

And it finally did one night when you were wearing a lovely red dress.

—

Imagine the look of surprise on Eren Yeager's face when he saw you—the sweet, innocent, Catholic girl that never wore or did anything to purposely arouse men—wearing the sluttiest red dress he'd ever seen, drink in hand and grinding your ass against some random guy.

He was so taken aback he froze, standing in the doorway as he watched the way your hips smoothly moved. He wondered where you learned to move like that for a moment before being pushed out of the doorway.

He tore his gaze off you, turning his head to give a half-assed apology to whoever had pushed him. When he turned back to look at you, your arms were wrapped around a woman, feeling her up before kissing her.

Eren's eyes widened. Oh, dear, what were you up to? Showing up to a frat party dressed in what you wore was one thing, he could assume you simply wanted to try it out for once, but kissing a girl? Especially when your parents were very publicly homophobic.

He's not exactly sure what, but something inside him knows tonight is the night.

And, dear God, with the way you're grinding against everyone but him makes him feel so hot and heavy.

You're still wearing your purity ring, but Eren takes note of how you so obviously make sure its seen. You're practically waving it in front of everyone's faces with the way you flip your hair behind your shoulder and exaggeratedly put your hand to your chest.

And Eren definitely doesn't miss the hungry look in his classmates' eyes as you do so. He had pushed the jealousy down, instead asking around to see if anyone knew what you were up to. No one knew, but he knew that he was going to be the one you did something with.

He sees the woman Armin pointed out to him years ago, the redhead hired to watch you, holding a red solo cup to her lips as she watched you. You definitely knew she was watching you, but that didn't stop you from feeling up and kissing more people.

Once, the only time he had taken his eyes off you that night, Eren turned back to find you pressed against a wall, legs wrapped around his friend Jean as he sucked on your neck. Eren couldn't hear you, but he saw your lips open to moan in Jean's ear.

You were making direct eye contact with Eren, and you smirked when he turned back to you. His cock had already been semi-hard, but dear god that look you gave him just made his ache for you stronger.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

You'd found out earlier that week what your parents had done to your acceptance letters before you even started college. You had been looking for something in their closet, and found a long forgotten box that held the letters inside.

You grew even more pissed as you read each one. This is what you could have had instead of attending some general college that accepts anyone that applies. You could've been at the ivy league school of your dreams instead of cooped up inside your parents' house all day.

Reading the letter from Stanford is what blew your fuse. You knew your parents were protective, but this was a lot more than necessary. This was the kind of bullshit psycho helicopter parents who set up hidden cameras in their children’s room pulled.

You decided that you needed to get them back some way.

You figured being an active participant in a college party would be enough to make them blow up, but while you were staring at Eren from across the room, pressed against the wall by one of his closest friends, you knew you wanted to do more.

You'd known Eren had the hots for you since your mother gave you the purity ring that sat on your finger. You knew that the reason he started talking to you so randomly was because he wanted to get into your pants.

You had hoped to get away from it when you were across the country, attending the school of your dreams.

And when your dad handed you the forged rejection letter, you hoped Eren's little obsession with taking your virginity would fizzle out once the first semester started.

You were very wrong about that. But you suppose that's a good thing, now. Especially since recently he seemed to have a different air about him, and suddenly your intention to make your parents as pissed off at you as you were at them seemed like a piece of cake. Losing your virginity—to a non-Christian at that—would definitely do that.

It's not like you genuinely wanted to wait until marriage, or even a committed relationship, anyway. You always figured that if the opportunity arose you'd take it, and it never did. Not with anyone you kind of liked, at least.

You gently pushed Jean away, making up some excuse about needing to go check on a friend. He nodded, kissing you once more before letting you go.

Jean was nice, but definitely not who you wanted your first to be.

You approached Eren with swaying hips, leaning on the kitchen counter beside him and innocently smiling up at him. You propped yourself on your arms, making sure to make your boobs look bigger by pushing them together.

"What are you doing, Miss Catholic?" he asked before you even got a chance to say anything. He offered you a drink from his cup, to which you politely declined.

"I don't think I know what you're talking about," you replied. You slowly licked your lips, watching as his eyes followed your tongue.

"Well the first thing I see walking in is yourself in this lovely little number." He gently grabbed your hand, making you straighten yourself out before making you spin for him. "And then I see you kissing a woman."

"Is there something wrong with that? I'm a supporter of the LGBT community, you know." He stopped spinning you, which gave you an opportunity to stand closer to him.

"I knew that you were, you're just not one publicly. Your parents hate that community and you would never do something that goes against their morals."

You softly hum. "What else am I doing?"

Eren's hand travels, finding itself resting on the small of your back. He pulls you against him, smiling down at you. "Well you're grinding and switching guys to make out with like a fucking whore. Trying to get attention, sweetheart?"

He leaned down, your noses nudging each other. "Jealous I've done that with everyone but you?"

"And what if I am?" Eren's voice is low and sultry, almost like he's trying to seduce you. Which he really doesn't have to do since you're already soaking your panties.

You let out a breath of amusement, smiling up at him as you bring a hand up to trail down his chest. “Listen, Eren, I know what you’re after.”

“What am I after?”

You meet his gaze. The emerald green of them reminds you of sin and evil, especially with the way Eren looks at you like you’re a piece of meat meant to be devoured.

Your hand tightens in his shirt, pulling him so close your lips nearly lock together. “You want to corrupt me,” you whisper. “You want to be the one that takes my virginity, don’t you?”

The way he grins and hums tells you everything you need to know. He’s still obsessed with that. Before, back in high school, you never would’ve dreamed you’d be in this position, but here you are, standing in a borrowed dress desperate to lose your virginity.

“I’m willing to give it to you,” you say in his ear. “If and only if we make a big deal of it first.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What do you mean by that?”

You softly hum. “I need to piss my parents off, and nothing will get them going more than knowing their little girl allowed herself to sin so willingly and have sexual intercourse before marriage. I need them to know that I did it. If we just go up to a room they can assume I didn’t give myself away like that. Their little assistant they hired to spy on me wouldn’t follow us to confirm whether or not I did it, so we need to do something she can report in her line of sight.”

Eren nodded, his fingers spreading across your back. “I can work something out for that.”

He smiles, a beautifully devious smile, and looks down at you. You return the smile, finally pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

—

Your soft intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed. The redhead in green sits across the sitting area from where you and Eren are sat. You notice her eyes dart away from her phone towards you, her hands still pretending to scroll through social media.

You exaggerate another moan as he kisses your neck, spreading your legs even more to allow his fingers to slip inside of you instead of grazing over the insides of your thighs.

“You’re making it sound fake, sweetheart,” Eren whispers in your ear. He eyes the woman in green, watching as she crosses her legs and leans back on the couch. “Don’t force it.”

“Well sorry.” You roll your eyes. “I’ve never done this before.”

Your breath hitches when you feel the tips of his fingers softly graze your clothed pussy. God, you just know he can feel how wet you are. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so embarrassed about anything.

“God, you’re fucking wet. All this for me?”

Not exactly, you think. You had unintentionally turned yourself on while grinding against multiple people, allowing yourself to imagine for just a moment what it would be like to fuck them.

“Of course it isn’t. Because you’re nothing but a whore desperate to displease her parents.”

His words alone were enough to make you softly whine, but mixed with the way he delicately moved your panties to the side and ran his middle finger up to your clit had you moaning his name.

It wasn’t a secret what you two were doing, but no one cared. They were either too shit-faced to remember or were too focused on other things. The two of you were almost free as birds where you sat.

You sharply inhale, hand gripping the navy chair’s arm as he slowly slipped a finger inside your folds.

You softly gasp, letting your head drop back onto his shoulder as you close your eyes. You’re on display for anyone to see, but that thought gets put on the back burner once you feel the cold metal of Eren’s rings press against you.

He starts leaving kisses along the side of your neck, his free hand slowly traveling up and down your torso.

“You like this, huh?” Another moan slips from your lips as he adds his ring finger. “Never would’ve taken the pretty Catholic girl to be so into something like this.”

“Eren, please.” It’s pathetic, really, the way he easily managed to turn you to putty in his lap. The way you quietly beg for him to move his fingers faster was humiliating, but you couldn’t help the way it made you feel.

“Please what?” You couldn’t see it, but you could feel Eren's condescending gaze burning through you. “You need to speak up.”

You softly grunt as his other hand moves down, gliding across your clit. You press your lips together to suppress a moan. "You know what, asshole."

He laughs in your ear, thrusting his fingers into you just a bit faster. His other hand moves up to softly squeeze one on your breasts, moving your dress down.

He stops just as your tits are about to spill out, moving his hand to place a firm hold on the base of your neck.

"We move at my pace, sweetheart. Got that?"

You sigh in frustration, your grip on the chair tightening as you roll your hips against his hand.

His hold on your neck tightens and he removes his fingers from inside you, making you whine out at the loss.

"My pace."

He's gone back to teasingly rubbing your entrance, always just barely missing the spot you need his most. When you let out a sigh of defeat and relax in his hold, he slips his fingers back inside.

You moan at the sudden intrusion, your legs involuntarily moving to close.

Eren moves his free hand to your thigh, forcing your legs to stay apart. "Don't fucking run. You asked for this, remember?"

His words go in one ear and out the other, but you nod anyway. You don't think you'd be able to find it in yourself to disagree with anything he says—not with the way his fingers slowly drag across your walls, making you desperate for more.

This time when you start rolling your hips he doesn't stop you. He lets you slowly rub yourself on his hand because he's too distracted by the way your ass grinds against his cock.

God, this needs to hurry up so he can fuck you already.

The way his fingers suddenly speed up has you keening his name, pressing yourself further into him. You weren't sure if the redhead had been watching you before, but you're sure of it now because you see her stand up and leave.

You smile, turning your head to whisper, "Okay, she saw. We can-"

You moan, his long fingers grazing a spot you didn't even know was there as his thumb drew slow circles on your clit.

"We're finishing what we started. Now be a good girl and sit still."

His free hand splayed across your stomach, keeping you from squirming or moving away as his fingers increase their speed. You grip the arms of the chair, attempting to muffle a moan. It seemed to suddenly occur to you that there could be people watching. It didn't matter how high or wasted they were, they would still be drawn to the show.

Eren whispered something in your ear. You didn't understand what he'd said, but the tone of voice had the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and your pussy clenching around his fingers.

He condescendingly hummed in your ears as you came undone with a cry of his name. He let out an amused breath, slipping his fingers out of you and readjusting your panties. He gave your cunt a soft pat before gently pushing you off him.

Your legs slightly shook as you stood and fixed your dress, not used to the amount of pleasure you had just received. You fixed your hair, letting out a heavy breath before turning back to Eren.

You almost told him goodbye, your original plan completely slipping your mind. Now that your parents' redheaded employee had seen you and walked away from the party, it completely slipped your mind that you'd promised Eren could be your first.

Even if you'd forgotten, you most certainly didn't mind when he grabbed you by the elbow and began dragging you upstairs.

—

The two of you were hardly dressed when Eren kicked the bedroom door behind him. You're not sure whose room you were in, but you guessed it was a guest room based on the monochromatic color scheme and lack of personality.

Whose room it was didn't matter, though. Not when you didn't even know whose house you were currently in, and especially not when Eren's hands were hot against your skin, desperately trying to remove that slutty red dress from your frame.

He tossed it to the ground once he'd gotten it off, taking only a couple seconds to admire your body before picking you up. Your lips connected in a heated kiss before he started trailing his lips along your jaw and neck.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted you," he moaned into your ear. He dropped you onto the bed, quickly removing his clothes. You didn't even get a chance to look at him before he was on top of you, body pressed to yours. "How long I've wanted you under me like this."

His breath was hot against the column of your throat, planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders and chest. One of his hands held him up, the other leaving a burning trail behind as it drifted to the hem of your panties.

You lifted your hips slightly as he pulled them off, haphazardly tossing them somewhere in the room to be found later.

He continued trailing kisses across your body before you felt something poking at your hole.

You suppressed a soft gasp, immediately being shushed by Eren's soft lips on yours. It was the gentlest thing he'd done all evening, the kiss being chaste and sweet compared to everything else.

"This might hurt a bit, sweetheart. I'll be gentle."

You softly nodded, keeping your eyes closed as you braced yourself for what was to come.

He gently pushed into you, your sharp gasp of surprise enough to make him pause until you told him to continue.

He was so big, though it shouldn't be surprising considering the reputation he has. The rumors that he has the best dick on campus should've set different expectations for you, and though you have nothing to compare it to, you can't imagine ever getting fucked better than this.

Once he's bottomed out inside you he stops, waiting until you give him the green light to go.

He might have been hoping this would happen for years, but it was still your first time. He wanted to make it enjoyable.

"You can move now," you whispered. He gave a single nod, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head before pulling back, slowly thrusting forward.

You gasp, breath hitching in your throat as your eyes shut in pleasure. Eren leaves kisses along your neck as he continues his slow, languid thrusts.

While you're enjoying what he's doing, it's not enough. You need more. You half expected him to fuck you like a crazed animal, thrusting into you with reckless abandon as you beg him to go slower. You never imagined you'd be begging him to be rougher.

Your request is met with a soft chuckle. "You sure, sweetheart?"

You nod. "Yes, I'm sure. I can handle it."

He tilts his head, slightly shrugging. "Alright then."

His hands release yours, moving down your body. He pushes your legs to your chest, making you hold them there.

The new angle makes his thrusts reach deeper inside you. Eren's thrust are long and hard, making you cry out with each one. When one of his hands traveling to where the two of you were connected and stimulating your clit.

All of that combined with the way a sudden, desperate moan slips from him has you seeing stars, clenching around his cock.

His breaths are heavy, soft grunts leaving his lips. "Jesus fucking Christ," he breathes. Your eyes are just barely open, enough to watch his head drop to your chest. You can tell he's fighting the urge to ram into you, which you greatly appreciate.

"M'gonna fill this pussy up, yeah?" You barely process his words but you're nodding anyway, too far gone to care about much else. The way you tighten around him at the words has his groaning as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your body. "You like that idea, huh? How d'you think your parents would react when they find out?"

He knows damn well you can’t answer with the way his cock hits all the right spots inside you. You give a cry of his name instead, orgasm racing to the finish line as his thrusts become sloppier.

“Fuck.” He bites his bottom lip, eyes screwing shut as he suppresses a moan. His orgasm reaches the edge first, his warm cum filling you to the brim. He’s determined to make you finish, too, though, so he fucks into you faster, pushing his cum deeper into your womb.

Your moans are music to his ears, hands still trying to hold your knees against your chest so desperately. The squelching of your mixed fluids is all that fills your ears before your breath hitches, pussy clamping down on his cock as you gush around him.

You release your legs as Eren falls on top of you, panting heavily as he laughs.

“What?” Your voice is hoarse, and you can feel your throat starting to get sore.

“That was the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he simply says.

You laugh as well, shaking your head. “You’re only saying that because I’m a virgin.”

He shakes his head into your chest. “You’re not the only virgin I’ve fucked. You have the best pussy ever.”

Eren lifts his head, flashing you his perfect teeth as he smiles. He leans back, pulling out of you and turning you onto your stomach.

“Now ass up, pretty. We’re no where near done.” He grabs you by the hips and lifts them, pushing your front down. “And while you’re at it, let’s take this off.”

He reached for your hand and removes your purity ring, setting it on the nightstand.

—

The following Monday when you’d see him on campus he’s talking to Jean, fidgeting with a silver chain he’s wearing.

When he meets your gaze you smile and wave, finding yourself walking closer to him.

His lips curl up into a devious grin, and as you get closer you can see the object on his necklace more clearly. You aren’t entirely sure what it is until he holds it up, almost showing it off to Jean.

It’s your purity ring, being paraded around on his neck.

honestly have no clue what this is but I’m not rereading sorry

also this was my first smut work to let me know what y’all think of it

as always i hope y’all enjoyed. likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

-Izzy <3

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