#so bad i literally could not breathe and actually thought i was going to die a few times
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iratusmus · 2 years ago
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never forget the time i laughed myself to tears over this image
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ennabear · 19 days ago
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heyyy i need loser sevika hc or literally anything do wtv you want im obsessed and i needdds
HEHEHEYAYYYYY i’m glad my loser!sevika thought was well received because i’ve had her on the brain recently… here are some general headcanons, but lemme know if y’all want more or anything specific!!! nsfw at the end so 18+!!!
definitely has no awareness of her surroundings. and the fact that she’s huge makes this even better. bumping into tables at the bar— even knocking them over, running into people 24/7, stepping on and tripping over her cape to the point that the bottom is constantly muddy and shredded… yeah. but it’s so adorable to watch her stumble around!!
i think she’s one of those people who always just quietly eavesdrops. her presence can go unnoticed if she wants it to, so she just leans against a wall and listens to two people share every secret she could ever need about their current enemy. fuck, she’ll probably even take notes and leave the notepad full of info on silco’s desk.
we all know that she’s mastered the scary lady facade, but other than that i think she just… i dunno how to put this nicely… sucks at talking to people. you cannot have a normal conversation with her because she’ll just talk too fast and trip over her words, or she’ll stare at you like she’s trying to kill you the whole time. it takes patience!!! if you’re nerding out with her about mechanics or shimmer variants or something, she’ll go on forever and not let you speak. it’s not like she’s trying to be rude, it’s just that she finally trusts someone enough to talk, and boy does she have a lot to say.
when you first met she was probably this way too, just with wayyyy more blushing and stuttering. if you ever call her cute after one of her rants, she’ll actually short circuit. she’d forget everything she was talking about and stare at you with stars in her eyes and find it suddenly hard to breathe. and is it hot in here? god she’s sweating now, how strange.
i think it would be good for her to be with someone who is more extroverted and will drag her ass out of the house (which is bad for me because i’m even more of a loser than she is…) because she probably sucks at being confrontational or having fun. not that she isn’t funny, she just doesn’t prefer to tell her jokes or to engage in conversation. she calls it being reserved and you call it being shy. (you’re right and she doesn’t want to admit it.)
ok nsfw thoughts now…
strap sucker supreme!! literally her favorite thing ever. she’ll sit under your desk forever and just gag herself on it. probably cumming in her pants with how good you feel down her throat, especially if you run your hands through her hair while she does it. hell yeah!! she could die happy between your legs this way.
imagining that the brothel doesn’t exist in this loserverse (or at least she doesn’t visit it), she’s definitely a virgin when she first meets you!! poor baby would cry her eyes out the first time you fuck her, practically screaming at how good you’re making her feel. she’s never been this intimate with anyone before, never felt so good about herself and her body, and fuck you’re good at this.
she probably loves dry humping and grinding too. you can’t cuddle with her without feeling her hips slowly start to move against you under the blankets. if you tease her about being horny or needy, she’ll just bury her face in your neck and muffle her whimpers. but of course you’ll help her get off, she’s so hard working and deserving of it, of course. just a lil bit of teasing first!!!
hehehe playing into the humiliation side of this (well, not really, she just thinks everything she does is humiliating), imagine asking her very nicely to wear her strap in public, especially if you pick out a tight pair of jeans for her that makes it obvious. the whole time she’d be wide eyed and on edge, assuming that everybody knows, but really nobody can tell because of the way she’s refusing to move her cloak. she won’t even let you grope her or look in her general direction. but also she’s blinded by horniness, she can’t even see straight because the only thing in her mind is how she’s gonna get to fuck you when you get home.
not really nsfw but i think sex with her would also just be so fun!! she’d be giggling at herself and clumsily trying to position you both, or you’d be accidentally kicking each other the whole time in a tangle of limbs and hair and kisses. so fun… so cute… where is my loser butch… (that’s a joke lol i’m the loser butch oops)
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urhoneycombwitch · 11 months ago
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eddie x latebloomer, virgin reader (so not self-projecting...) who isn't innocent or typically what people say is "virginal" (because virginity is a construct!) but still gets super nervous about heavy petting/sex because they've never done it before and don't want to be bad or weird and literally just flees at the confrontation
until that ovulation hits and r! is trying so hard to ignore it, squirming on Eddie's couch/bed and he's like 🤨 you ok? and then it just comes out in a whole word vomit that he's super hot and they're absolutely soaked but don't know what to do and it probably won't be good and they should just go home and eddies like... no big deal, I'll just eat you out, no penetration 🤷🏻
and when they do actually have sex later, I know Eddie talks R through it
ty for suggesting this anon! u got me inspired here's a lil blurb. also dedicated to @wdsara48 who asked for more inexperienced!reader content 🫡
cw: +18 mdni, Eddie’s a bit clueless about the hormone cycle, oral (r receiving), cumming in pants (guess who), ovulation horny (™)
____________
On second thought, it was probably a really bad call to visit your boyfriend when you were this horny.
Which sounds silly, you know it does- who wouldn't want to visit their hot boyfriend at a time like this?- but you've really been enjoying taking it slow this time around. Eddie is the first boy you've dated who has totally and completely earned your trust when it comes to sex- he's never once pressured you to take your heated make-out sessions any further, pulling back and unwinding himself from you with spit-slick lips every so often to gauge your comfort level.
Is this okay? How are you feeling? Wanna take a break?
So kind. So considerate. So far away, in the kitchen, humming to himself while he fixes dinner, hair loose and curling around the shoulders of his tight Metallica tee. Every time he reaches over to stir the pot of chili on the stove, the lean muscles in his upper back and biceps curl and flex.
Hormones are flushing hot through your body, the couch you’re seated on feeling more and more confining by the second; you cross your legs at the ankle in an attempt to stave off the fidgeting, but when this causes the thick denim of your zippered jeans to press into the ache between your legs you are quick to uncross them again.
There’s a low-toned buzz that’s taken up residence in your hearing, like all the raging horniness has no place else to go- which is why you don’t hear Eddie the first time he speaks.
He’s standing at the edge of the living room now, hands on hips, one dark brow raised in your direction- “Earth to angel. You with me?”
“Huh?” You swallow harshly against the dryness in your throat (contrasted with the excess wetness in other places) and shake your head, slipping your hands underneath your thighs to sit on them and ground yourself a bit. “Sorry, I was zoning out. What’d you say?”
“I said you seem antsy tonight,” Eddie repeats, moving in to sit next to you, close enough for your knees to touch. “Had too much coffee or somethin’? Y’know, you really shouldn’t drink that stuff after noon. Not good for ya.”
He’s teasing, all smooth movements with an easy grin as he snakes an arm around your shoulders.
The smoke-sweet smell of his cologne floods your senses- musky and heady and this underlayer of something earthy, wild, that you could swear hits on a primal nerve by the way it makes your clit throb.
When you stiffen under Eddie’s arm, he reads your signal as one of discomfort, tsking at himself underneath his breath before starting to pull away. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to make you-”
“No!” Your hand darts out to grab at his over your shoulder, keeping him from leaving, because if the warmth of his body pressed to your side stops you might actually die. “No, it’s not you. I promise. It’s me. I’m…”
Eddie watches you with mild concern as you flounder, mouth opening and shutting a few times before settling on just the truth- “I’m ovulating.”
He blinks. “Um. Shit. Do you need to go to the doctor? ‘Cuz the main office is definitely closed this time ‘a night but the ER is for sure open-”
You bend at the waist, pitching forward with a groan and cutting him off. With hot cheeks buried in your hands, your voice comes out muffled- “Didn’t you take sex ed, like, three times?”
“Sure did. Learned basic anatomy real well.” His palm has slid to your lower back, your shirt ridden up to expose a stripe of skin that his warm hand now rests on. “Help me out, princess. What’s goin’ on?”
With a pounding heart, you manage to sit up, looking down at your hands in your lap as you whisper, “Ovulation makes me, like, super horny.”
At first, you think he didn’t hear you, but after a beat of silence there’s a subtle shift in his posture, spine straightening.
“Oh.” Eddie’s hand on you doesn’t move but his other one smoothes down the line of his jean-clad thigh, clearing his throat before asking, “And do you wanna… do something about that?”
Mustering courage, you swivel slightly to look at him- the joking tone from earlier has drained out of his voice, and this is the shyest you’ve ever seen him: staring unseeing at his own lap, plucking at the knee of his jeans.
“Like what?” You ask, matching the same low tone he’s just used.
When Eddie looks back at you, that’s when you realize your mistake- his lack of eye contact wasn’t due to shyness. The way he’s looking at you now, dark chocolate eyes holding a steady gaze, it’s a wonder he’s been so restrained this whole time. 
“Could eat you out. Only if you wanted, though.”
You shiver. Visibly. 
A slow, half-tilted smile pulls at Eddie’s lips; he brings your free hand to his face and kisses your knuckles, then tugs you up with him to stand.
“C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”
Cast in soft lamplight, Eddie closes the door to his room before cupping your face in his hands, cool rings against your cheeks. He kisses you gently, at first, plush lips notching in steady rhythm against yours; when you tug him in closer by his waist and slip your tongue between his teeth, he groans into your mouth.
He pulls away, wet click of your separating mouths loud in the quiet of the room before giving your hip a light tap. “Up on the bed, angel.”
You’re quick to comply, crawling backwards on the duvet, lust unfurling in your stomach as you rest half-propped on your elbows.
Eddie divests himself of his shirt in one fluid motion without taking his eyes from you. His pale skin gleams in the low light, silver chain and guitar pick necklace swinging as he moves to hover over you.
“You okay?” He asks, dark hair a curtain around both your faces as his bare torso presses against your clothed one. 
When you nod, he ducks to kiss you again before sliding a hand up your shirt. “Good. ‘Cuz I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”
You know he’s mostly joking- you and him have a safeword, and he’s always attentive to your body signals- but the pure desire that he’s kissing and touching you with is indicative of a boy who’s waited too long to be able to have you like this.
Eddie laps at your mouth, tongue twining with yours as his hand squeezes and molds the fat of your breast through your bra as both your nipples stiffen in response. When his knee slots between your thighs, you moan, hips jolting up to chase the friction.
“Can I…” you’re panting, forehead crushed to Eddie’s as you search for the words. “I want your mouth, on me- please.”
You’re rarely ever so communicative, usually hidden away behind a wall of reservations that are totally melted away now. Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched, sucks at a spot behind your ear that causes your hips to rock forward again, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. You can have my mouth. Fuck.”
While he kisses down the slope of your neck, between your clothed breasts, your bare stomach where your shirt’s been rucked up, he’s muttering (to himself, to you, hard to say): “‘Course you can have my mouth. Have it wherever you want it. Christ. Should’a asked for it sooner. Give you anything you want.”
Eddie pops the button on your jeans and you lift your hips so he can pull them completely off your body; when he sees the wet patch of arousal darkening your baby blue underwear he chokes out another curse before working the fabric down your hips and tossing them to the ground.
“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asks, stretching his lower half out on the mattress and pulling your legs over his shoulders, his mouth inches from your soaked core. Eddie looks up at you, face bracketed by your thighs, pupils blown out with desire, waiting for your go-ahead.
“Please,” you murmur, stretching out a hand to pet at the crown of his head.
His eyes flutter shut for a moment with your touch; when he presses a kiss to the top of your cunt, your hand tightens in his hair, his resulting hum of encouragement vibrating against your clit.
Eddie flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe up your folds, spreading the wetness from your leaking hole up to mouth sloppily at your clit; when he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your elbow supporting your half-propped frame gives out and you pitch back against the covers.
“There- ah- shit, there, Eddie…” you sound wrecked already, voice husked with the strain of holding back whines. Normally, you’d be so in your head about the exposing condition you’re in, but at this point you’re too wound up to care, Eddie’s tongue against the beating heart of you coaxing that tightness in your stomach closer and closer to snapping.
His nails bite in where his hands span the width of your thighs, holding you against his mouth even as your legs tremble and hips twist jerkily with each sweep of his tongue; Eddie gives one last suck to your clit then follows the line of your cunt down, down with his tongue to prod at your sodden entrance.
When his tongue slides into you with a wet squelch, obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, you both moan in tandem- your hand in his hair tightens to near-brutal, and the bed underneath you both tremors with the jolt of Eddie’s hips rutting into the mattress.
He sets a steady pace with his tongue, fucking it in and out of you as his nose nudges against your clit. That coil in your stomach is starting to make all your muscles tense up, your thighs locking Eddie in place (who seems to only be spurred on with each constriction of your body).
“Gonna come?” The lower half of his face is coated in your slick as he takes a brief pause to kiss at your inner thigh, one hand coming to rest on your tummy, pinning you down. “C’mon, baby. Let me see it.”
Your body obeys, tension snapping as his mouth returns to your cunt, a high whine of “Eddie Eddie Eddie” that you don’t bother to hide this time loosening from your throat as everything around you bursts and crashes into orgasm.
Toes curling against Eddie’s lower back, cunt spasming around his tongue, Eddie fucks you through it and then some, his own hips mindlessly grinding down as your release triggers his own, spilling warm into his boxers while your high spirals out.
When the spams of your pleasure turn over into aftershocks, Eddie comes up for air, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated cunt before crawling up your body to lie on top with his head in the crook of your neck.
“Fuck,” you say aloud to the ceiling, breathless, arms automatically encircling the boy. “Holy shit.”
“I’ll say.” Eddie’s breath cools over the sticky patch he kissed into your skin, his mouth still wet with your release. He gathers enough energy to plant his elbows on either side of your head, looking down at you, suddenly serious. “So um… how often do you get ovi- ovel… like this? Once a year or somethin’?”
The laugh shakes out of your chest before you can stop it; you reach up to tuck Eddie’s curls behind his ears, your previous bashfulness having been tongue-fucked out of you.
“Eddie Munson, do I have news for you.”
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the-travelling-witch · 1 year ago
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𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋
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summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in the devildom doesn't make it any better; luckily, these demons are here to help
pairings: mammon :: belphegor :: barbatos x reader
warnings: period-having reader (gn pronouns), blood, mild cramps
a/n: this is literally so self-indulgent, as everything i write is, but whenever i'm on my period thinking of scenarios like this helps me sit through cramps, so i thought i'd share the nonesense with you ♡
obey me masterlist || similar writing: twisted pains [twst]
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𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍
“Human! Open ya damn door!”
“No, please let me die in peace,” you whined from underneath your blankets as the banging against your door continued.
“If ya don’t let me in right now, I’ll kick it down, ya hear me?!” You could practically see Mammon pacing a ridge into the floor in front of your room, so you trudged over there and unlocked it, the demon almost colliding with you from how quickly he opened the door. His snow-white hair was sticking up from his head as if he’d run his hands through it without noticing. “What’s the big deal makin’ me wait so damn long, huh?”
“I told you I’m trying to pass away from this life,” you deadpanned, trudging back to your bed, groaning as another cramp twisted your lower stomach. “First, I have to deal with this shit in a house full of male demons who are absolutely not prepared to handle a human exchange student on their period. And second-“
You paused, for both dramatic flair and to take a calming breath. Then, you turned around and gave Mammon a saccharine smile dipping pure venom.
“I find out that apparently the entire Devildom can smell that I’m on my period if I step a foot out the bloody door.”
“Listen, I’m sorry.” Mammon held up his hands to plead his innocence. “I didn’t mean ta be so rude about it. But in my defence, I didn’t know it’s a normal thing for humans to just start bleedin’. I thought ya were dyin’!”
You painfully remembered how you had dragged yourself out of your room this morning, after luckily finding some hygiene products in the bag you had with you when you were whisked away to the Devildom unannounced (thank the sky guy you threw them into literally every bag and purse you owned). Already in a bad mood, you’d plopped down into your designated seat, ready to fight for your breakfast, only to feel six pairs of eyes on you.
“What?” You had asked, when nobody passed you the bread basket.
That had been when Mammon, eyes as wide as the coaster under your mug, almost jump-scared you into dropping your butter knife. 
“WHY ARE YA BLEEDIN’?!” He’d already pulled you from your chair and started inspecting you for any signs of injuries, tugging your arms up and inspecting your head. “Are ya hurt anywhere?”
“Mammon, I’m fine. You can let go of me now.” You almost had to wrestle your arm back from him, heat already creeping up your cheeks. 
“Clearly yer not!”
Exhaling deeply you said through gritted teeth “I’m on my period, if you have to know.”
The demons around the table had exchanged glances, but sadly only three of them had held a spark of understanding, those being Satan, Levi and Asmodeus. Mammon and Beel on the other hand seemed more lost (well, Beel actually had his eyes on his food but that was beside the point) and Lucifer’s face had been unreadable.
“Woah, periods are an actual thing?” Levi had asked incredulously, his voice somewhere between shock and awe. “I thought anime made those up for the sake of the plot.”
“I see,” Satan had given you hope. “I‘ve read about those before in some books on human anatomy but I didn’t think it was a big deal, seeing as it wasn’t talked about much.”
“Satan, pray tell, from when were those books?” 
“The 18th century perhaps?” He shrugged, tilting his head.
“Well, that explains a lot,” you had sighed, whereas Asmo had just dropped his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry about them, hon. But demons don’t experience periods, so I doubt any of them will be much help,” he had squeezed your hand sympathetically.
Lucifer had cleared his throat then. “Well, it appears that we have some catching up to do, now that we are hosting a human exchange student. Given your…predicament, you are allowed to stay home from RAD as long as this affects you.”
You had sighed a breath of relief.
“In exchange, however,” Lucifer had continued, making you dread the next words to leave his mouth, “it will fall to you that my brothers are properly educated on how to handle this side of humanity.”
So, that afternoon, you had found yourself in the common room, holding a presentation on the menstrual cycle in front of the brothers… and the future demon king himself. Yes, of course, Diavolo had gotten wind of your situation and simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn more about humans. At least, him being in the know meant you’d never have to worry about getting period products imported to the Devildom ever again.
Subsequently, you had locked yourself in your room, curled up under a blanket as you scrolled through Devilgram trying to forget this whole ordeal happened. A good hour later, Mammon had started pounding against your door like a madman.
With him standing in your room now, you could see the bag he was holding as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you patted the spot next to you.
“I’ll forgive you. It would have been more embarrassing if I went to RAD without knowing,” you said placatingly. “Anyways, what’s that?”
“Oh, it’s nothin’…” Mammon trailed off, looking anywhere but you as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just… Ya were sayin’ this stuff could help and we didn’t have any, so I went and got some for ya… Only because Lucifer would string me from the ceiling if ya went and complained! That’s all!”
Taking the plastic bag from him, you peered inside to see various types of human world painkillers, a hot water bottle and chocolates. Despite what the demon had just said, you noted that the chocolate brand he bought was the one you liked best, something you had only dropped in a passing sentence when you talked to Asmo about a new trending dessert.
“Thank you, Mammon,” you smiled genuinely. “That actually is really helpful.”
“Really?” He managed to suppress his grin before it curled further than the corner of his lips before clearing his throat and hiding half his face behind his hand. “I mean, I’m only doin’ ma job, ya know? So Lucifer gives me back Goldie!”
“Sure you are,” you laughed, the first time since your day started.  “Does your job also involve staying with me and watching a movie?”
“Yeah!” This time he was too late to hide his excitement, then he caught himself and tried again, calmer this time. “I uh- I could fit ya in my super busy schedule. Gotta make sure ya don’t die after all, huh?”
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𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑
What a horrible way to start your day.
Well, under other circumstances, it would’ve been near perfect. Waking up snuggled comfortably in your boyfriend’s tight hold as he lightly snored into the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. 
If it wasn’t for the unpleasant twisting of your lower stomach you might have turned around and slept the morning away. Still slightly groggy, you sat up in bed, hoping dearly it was just a fleeting stomach ache or hunger and not your period, despite the clear symptoms. 
All hope was shattered however, when you shifted and you knew instantly that you could kiss this pair of underwear goodbye. With some effort, you wriggled out of Belphie’s vice grip, looking back at the sleepy demon as he groaned in protest only to see a large blood stain where you’d just lain. At your shocked gasp echoing around the attic, you watched his brows knit together and his nose wriggle, his forehead creasing as if he was deep in thought. Then, he blinked his eyes open.
“What’s—“ he cut himself off with a yawn, “What’s wrong? Are you alright? What are you doing over there?”
“Belphie… I’m so sorry,” you nearly sobbed, guilt bubbling up in you. In combination with your hormones being all over the place and your still sleep-addled mind, tears were threatening to form along your waterline.
In a heartbeat, the Avatar of Sloth was up and next to you, pulling you into a hug and bringing your head to rest against his shoulder, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other holding you close by the waist. You’d never seen him move this fast this early in the morning.
“Hey, hey, what’s up?” He gently prodded, voice still raspy with sleep but soft nonetheless. “Please talk to me, starlight.”
“It’s— Your sheets, I’m so sorry… I didn’t know…” You buried your face deeper in the fabric draping over his chest as you felt him turn his head towards the bed. Then, a beat of silence spanned across the attic.
“That’s what you’re fussing about?”
“Yeah, I mean—“ Collecting your thoughts, you began again. “It’s gross and a pain to clean. I really should’ve known that—“
“Hey, look at me.” Tilting your face towards his, your eyes met amethyst ones as you followed the guidance of his fingers underneath your chin. “It’s not gross, you hear me? No part of you could ever be.”
“But the blood-“
“I’m a demon, might I remind you. You’d think I can handle a little blood.” There was a caring seriousness in his gaze that made you weak in the knees, the love and adoration you found swirling within almost making you cry for a whole other reason. “You didn’t actually think I’d be mad at you about something so natural, did you?”
“It’s generally a bit of a taboo topic and conversations about it can be quite stigmatised, so…,” you shrugged.
“You’re telling me half the population go through this every month and the topic is hushed up anyway? You’re already stressed enough and people give you crap for something like this?” You nodded at his incredulous tone. “Well that’s just stupid.”
For a moment, Belphie just held you, his fingers tracing random shapes into your hip. Then, he pulled you towards a dresser in the corner of the room, never letting go of you completely. 
With how much time you had started spending in the attic it was a somewhat natural course of nature that your clothes would gradually end up moving here as well. Pulling out a fresh pair of underwear and a pair of black sweatpants, you didn’t have time to reach for a sweater before a soft pile of fabric was already pushed into your hands. Upon closer inspection, you identified it to be one of Belphie’s hoodies.
“I know you like wearing them,” he merely shrugged off your raised eyebrow. “Now go and take your time washing up, but make sure to come back straight away when you’re done.”
Practically herding you out of the door, you almost had to snort at the irony of the Avatar of Sloth encouraging you to do something you might not have had the energy to otherwise. But you were incredibly thankful for it because when the shower’s warm water hit you, you noticed how much you needed this, feeling born anew after scrubbing your skin clean.
Climbing back up the stairs to the attic, you already felt a lot calmer than when you had woken up, swaddled in Belphie’s cloud-like hoodie (seriously, where did he find fabric like that?) and surrounded by a mixture of his scent and your body wash.
When you pushed open the attic door, you blinked at the new set of sheets Belphie was lounging on, the old ones nowhere to be seen. Even without you moving, the demon perked up at your presence, extending one arm to coax you back into bed.
“What are you still doing over there? Come here,” he said, voice already drowsy again. “There’s still some morning left to be slept away.”
Who were you to refuse? Sliding under the covers next to him, you turned and twisted into whatever pretzel position made you cramp the least before two strong arms wrapped around you. This was another perk of being with Belphie; if anyone could accommodate weird sleeping positions, it was him.
Warm hands found their way under his hoodie, his palms pressed flatly against your lower back where most of your pain was coming from, while the hips of his fingers slowly caressed the surrounding skin.
“Feeling better?” He mumbled into the crown of your head.
“Mhm, much better,” you breathed into the crook of his neck, sighing as his natural body heat slowly eased some of the constant pressure in both your lower stomach and back. “How did you know about the back pain though?”
“You always complain about it, especially on the first day,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it was the most natural thing to know. 
“How did I get so lucky,” you mused, your tone playful but just as genuine. “Makes me feel even worse about ruining your sheets.”
“Literally don’t worry about it, you do too much of that anyway. I left them with Asmo, he knows how to get just about any stain out of stuff.” You tried not to think about the specifics of where that expertise came from, so you rolled your eyes at the very typical behaviour of the youngest to dump his work on his brothers. Then you stiffened. Work. Chores. You were on grocery shopping duty today. “What’s the matter now?”
“I have to go out soon and get everything we need for dinner,” you sighed. Maybe you could convince someone to trade it with an indoor chore for the week.
Before you could reach for your D.D.D, the arms around you held you a little closer to the demon you were snuggled up against, one of his legs draping over your thigh, careful not to put too much pressure on you as he tangled your legs with his.
“Well that’s too bad,” Belphie mumbled into your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Looks like Lucifer has to find someone else for the job. Because you’ll be busy all day.”
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𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒
Periods had the annoying habit of showing up whenever they pleased, which mostly meant whenever it was most inconvenient for you. Being well aware of that fact didn’t mean you were any more prepared for it to happen, though. 
So, as you were running errands around RAD with Barbatos, it suddenly felt like your insides were squeezed together and wrung out like a washcloth, making you stagger and pause to steady yourself again. When your companion turned to ask if you were alright, you assured him everything was fine, hoping it was just one bad cramp that would ebb away soon.
But over the course of the next fifteen minutes, it progressively got worse and you had trouble focusing on the task at hand, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you sorted through student council documents. As you reached for a new stack of files, gloved hands came to rest over yours, preventing you from picking up more work.
“You should not overexert yourself, dear,” a soft voice spoke close to your ear. On other occasions, you would have welcomed the way his hands smoothed down your shoulders when it was just the two of you for once, but you couldn’t think about anything but the pain you were experiencing. “Without meaning to offend, you’re looking rather unwell. Allow me to take you to the Demon Lord’s Castle.”
“What about work?” You mumbled but didn’t resist as he pulled you to your feet, steadying you with a hand between your shoulder blades. “And Diavolo?”
“Do not worry about that. There’s no rush to complete these files and the Young Master has given the explicit order for me to take care of you,” Barbatos smiled as he led you out of RAD, careful to avoid as much unwanted attention as possible. “An order I was all too happy to comply with, might I add.”
“So you knew,” you sighed with a smile, not actually too surprised at the revelation. “I did think it was suspicious to have you all to myself the entire day. Do I even have to ask how you knew?”
“Well, as you have come to learn, demons are far more perceptive to certain reactions of the body, hormonal changes included,” he explained matter of factly. “Aside from that, however, I have also made it a priority to learn the rhythm of your body to best care for you.”
“You track my cycle? Despite being so busy already?” You turn your head to look at him in surprise.
“Of course. Not only are you an honoured exchange student, you are also someone who is immensely important to me,” he said as he held the castle door open for you, his verdant gaze full of adoration. “Naturally, I aim to ease your strains and alleviate some of the burden you carry.”
“You really don’t have to—“
“But I want to.” Taking your hand in his, the fabric of his gloves soft against your skin, he brushed your knuckles with a featherlight kiss. “Please allow me to take care of you, my love.”
“I guess I can’t say no when you ask like that,” you laughed sheepishly. Your body seemingly agreed with you as it sent another wave of cramps to make your knees buckle. 
“You must be exhausted,” Barbatos said, no doubt picking up on your unease immediately. “Let me draw you a warm bath to ease some of your tension.”
Said, done. Soon thereafter, you were sinking into a tub that probably cost more than a normal person’s house, the water the absolute perfect temperature to relax your muscles. You also noted how there were no strong scents present, only the hint of something floral and calming, but not overwhelmingly so.
After some time of soaking in the bath and with your permission, Barbatos stepped back into the bathroom. First, he wrapped you in the fluffiest black towel, carefully patting your skin dry so as to not irritate it. Then, he applied a moisturising lotion, gently kneading out any knots in your legs and shoulders with his skilled fingers before helping you into a new set of clothes which felt light as feathers against your skin. 
He also showed you where to find any sort of hygiene product you might need and, to nobody’s surprise, somebody had stocked the guest bathroom you used whenever you came over with every possible product there was.
In your guest room, Barbatos guided you over to the sofa and lounge chairs underneath one of the high windows where a tea set was already waiting for you on the table in the middle. 
“I took the liberty to prepare some tea and a few pastries while you were bathing. This blend has soothing qualities and is known to help with cramping. Given your usual choice of tea, I also think the aroma will be to your taste,” the demon explained and, as always, you were stunned by his level of attention to detail. 
As he poured it, you noticed, however, that there was only one cup on the table and instead of getting one for himself, Barbatos went to fetch a hot water bottle. 
Wrapping it in a cloth he warned you to be careful not to burn yourself before announcing he’d start preparations for dinner, letting you know he’d be making your favourite. But before he could turn to leave, you caught his wrist, a surprised expression flitting over his face for just a second.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” you started, holding his gaze, “would you join me for tea? It’s been a while since we sat down together.”
At your request his face smoothed over into a fond smile, the hand in your grasp coming up to brush over your cheekbone. 
“I suppose dinner can wait a little longer,” he said, clearly as happy as you to spend time with you. “Then again, even if it couldn’t, I’d find it hard to leave you. Especially when your wish and mine are so closely intertwined.”
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© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit
if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡
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heavenbarnes · 8 months ago
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Hello I’m ruminating on olderbf!Simon and how down bad I am for him. I have so many thoughts that do not relate to each other but I would love to just braindump on ya if I may!
-olderbf!Simon and reader obviously into voyeurism/exhibitionism with the other 141 and hearing all of their dirty thoughts, but I get the sense that Simon would NOT like to hear literally anyone else talking that way about his girl. Like if a recruit or lower rank soldier saw reader and said something gross in earshot of Simon we might actually have a murder on our hands. What do you think?
-when/if reader ever gets bratty, how might Simon punish her? Maybe instead of having punishment sex he would actually withhold his dick from her? But then ofc he’s also horny and depraved so it ends up being as much of a punishment for him
-how do you envision them sharing a bed? Are they big spooners or does Simon run so hot that reader can’t handle him being nearby?
Anyway I need to lie down now I’m unwell about him xoxo
read this in the carpark before work and had to ruminate on it all day until now 🫶🏼
there was an internal battle your older bf!simon was facing. there was a part of him, a filthy part of him, that damn near needed everyone to know how good you could be for him.
but there was a bigger part that’d rather die than have anyone think of you like that.
enter 141.
men that simon could literally trust with his life, knew him better than anyone (anyone other than you). he could trust them with his life and he could trust them with a group chat full of your most intimate moments.
however, anyone else tried to even think about you? intimately or not?
there wasn’t a place they could hide.
“jesus, L.T- the fuckin’ sight a’that”
“woah, the things i’d do to-“
one stone faced expression hidden behind a balaclava, another fighting a shit eating grin off his face.
“i’d start runnin’ if i wa’you”
not like they’d ever be able to run fast enough.
and your older bf!simon knows orders better than anyone. lives by them, loves by them.
so when you’ve acted out, he knows that you need an order- need something to get you back to sweet and pliant like he’s used to.
no use fucking it back into you, minute he sinks even the tip in- it’s him going dumb and forgetting what the mission even was.
he has to go to the next extreme.
“no touchin’, sweet’art”
your hands went back under your thighs, back pressed to the arm of the couch as you watched the man in front of you. fucking hell.
simon had one rough hand wrapped around his cock, wrist twisting as he tugged himself off. the sounds of his broken moans, the spit slick of his palm.
pure fucking torture.
“please, si”
that nearly did it, he nearly gave in with one little whimper from you.
“i’ll be good”
simon’s eyes flickered up the length of you, eyes locking with yours. he could see the well of tears on your lower lashes, he could see the way your lip was fixed between your teeth.
“what’ya say then?”
crawling, fucking crawling across the couch to him- you let him feed the tip into your mouth, muffling your words as you spoke.
“m’sorry si”
and when it’s you and your older bf!simon in your bed at the end of a long day, there’s nothing quite like it for him.
he has to be touching you.
up to him? he likes to be spooning you, curve of your back against his chest and your ass nestled nicely against his cock.
where you belong.
but the man’s big and that means that man’s warm so sometimes he has to settle for a hand against your stomach or a leg between yours.
just as long as he’s touching you.
he’s happiest, however, when your head is on his chest and he can see your peaceful little face rise and fall with his breathing. to him, he can almost imagine you exist as one.
when he can hear your little breaths, the tiny (or not so tiny) snores drifting out your lips as he traces the lines of your face with a long finger.
tactile guy is our simon, but only when it comes to you.
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lalunanymph · 8 months ago
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𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 — miya osamu
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based off this thought i had about atsumu unintentionally hooking his twin up with his future wife skibidi doo bap
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I'm g'na kill him when I catch him, Osamu thinks, already coming up with a sure-fire plan to wipe his twin off the face of the earth for humiliating him like this.
And then, I'll go back in time and absorb him from the womb.
Usually, he could take whatever bullshit Tsumu threw his way—but this time, the star setter had gone too far.
Osamu literally feels like he's going to die; hands clammy and mind spinning in circles when he sees your confused expression, his number on a scrap of paper dangling uselessly in between his lax fingers.
"I... I'm sorry, Miya-san. I think you misunderstood..."
Your eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, pearly white teeth digging into your lower lip as you chew on it in anxiety.
Thank fuck it's almost closing time and none of his regulars are here to see him fumble this badly.
He blinks, retracts his hand, and number with a forced smile, even when he feels like turning around and strangling his brother, who is, of course, dying of silent laughter in the kitchen.
"Ah." He scratches the back of his head, pink dusting apparent on his boyishly handsome face. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position, L/N-san."
Osamu struggles to control his cresting shame, forcing a smile.
"Let me make you a house special as an apology for my forwardness. I'm truly am sorry for putting you in this position."
Before he could turn and retreat back into the kitchen with his tail tuck in between his legs, you call out a high-pitched, "Wait!"
He turns, and doesn't expect your face to warm, eyes darting to the clean counter as you tap your white-painted nails on the lacquered wood.
"Wh-what did the cashier actually tell you, Miya-san?"
"The cashier?"
You nod. "The blonde man. Kinda looks like you. I told him to send the chef my compliments but I think he must've given you a different impression."
Oh. Tsumu.
Osamu tries to grin without baring his teeth too much, and as if knowing his bluff was exposed, Atsumu chokes back his chortles, ducking into the kitchen to hide.
"Ah," Osamu kisses his teeth. He debates not telling you the truth, but since he's already made an ass of himself, he might as well commit to the schtick. "Said to me a babe told him to tell me she thinks I'm hot. S'all."
If it was possible, your face warms even more.
"O-oh. Well... he isn't wrong."
"Yeah, he was really out of line with that—wait, what?"
Osamu backtracks, unsure if he's heard you right.
Your mortification is contagious, especially when you duck your head again and mumble: "He's not wrong, Miya-san." Now, it's your turn to be forward and courageous. "I... I think you're really cute."
The black shirt he has on stretches across his broad pecs, highlighting his muscular build and those deliciously impressive biceps and traps. A simple cap the same color hides his dark hair, and even under the fluorescent lights, no one could deny how much of a looker Miya Osamu is.
Right now, he has a choice: flounder and fumble you, or, take this chance to ask you out.
While he malfunctions with indecision, you remove the burden of choosing from him, reaching forward to grab his number written hastily on a scrap of paper with a small smile.
Still shy, both of you couldn't look the other in the eye, the implications of your actions giving Osamu whiplash.
"O-okay, uh, thanks," his deep, baritone takes on a shade of embarrassment.
In your sundress and pretty smile, you take his breath away as you stand, tucking his number right into your small purse.
"I'll call you then, Miya-san. See you soon."
The second the door closes behind your retreating figure, Atsumu's grating voice pierces through the daze in Osamu's mind like nails running down chalkboard, his face peeking from behind the kitchen door.
"Damn, I can't believe that worked. See Samu? S'wasn't so bad, huh? You finally got a date and I can get you out of this kitch—h-hey Samu—hey! S-Stop—stop chasing me!"
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 🎀 dawn says: haikyuu debut lessgoooo .... rbs and love are very much appreciated <3
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©️ intellectual property of lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or change up the sentence structures and characters
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dani-says-stuff · 4 months ago
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Weak Point
❥ Back to the Control Center
━─━────༺✧༻────━─━
Davos Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader
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Summary: It was a well known fact that the Blackwoods and the Brackens hated one another, the houses would die before agreeing on anything. And it stayed that way until Davos Blackwood realized he might share one thing with the Brackens after all, his weak point.
Warnings: possible ooc davos?, i also made him Willem's nephew idk if thats accurate but whatever, allusions to smut but no actual smut, men being creepy, gross, and objectifying to reader (not Davos), mild violence, Daemon Targaryen, probably more stuff I don't remember... just tread carefully. its no worse than the stuff in the show. this is also very very unedited.
A/N: so, yeah, this is my first time ever writing for got/hotd so i hope i didnt screw it all up too bad. i started this just wanting to jot down this thought i had while watching the show and ended up getting SUPER carried away. i haven't read literally any of the books though so this could be completely messed up for all i know and i apologize for any lore butchering i may have done. i hope you enjoy !
Word Count: 6.2k
━─━────༺✧༻────━─━
He was running.
His feet pounding against the ground as he wove throughout the trees under the cover of the black night sky. He hoped the torches carried in the hands of some of the other men didn't betray him, the dim yellow-orange glow casting light upon his face and showing off the panic he'd been trying his best to conceal, hidden poorly behind a half-hearted snear since Willem had returned to Raventree hall. 
Willem Blackwood had announced to the room, bursting at the seams with leagues of angry Blackwood men, that their King consort had granted them leave to do whatever necessary to bring the Brackens to their knees. To destroy their alliance with the Greens and join the right side of history, pledge their allegiance to the true Queen Rhaenyra. 
At first, like all the other men and boys in the room, Davos was excited. He was practically shaking in elation, itching with adrenaline, ready to storm Stone Hedge.
To make the Brackens pay once and for all. 
He imagined some sort of battle would come from the ordeal. They would go head to head once more, fight like they always had with the other house, bring them to their knees for their Queen. It would be bloody, but the potential violence against their long-time rivals was customary, expected at this point. Or maybe they'd ransack some houses along the border. Burn a sept or two, destroy some of the more important harvest fields the Bracken's relied more heavily on.  
That is what he expected to come from Daemon Targaryen's indirect orders.
But no, there would be no fighting this time. Not exactly. 
They were to exploit the Brackens weak points.
To poke repeatedly at their sore spots until they finally admitted defeat, desperate to have returned what was stolen from them. 
Davos Blackwood did not expect to have his weak point threatened as well. 
But alas, it was. His weakest point, by the name of Miss Lady Y/N Bracken, was in grave danger, and she had no idea.
━─━────༺✧༻────━─━
It was an unlikely friendship that bloomed when the two were young, still green and ignorant to the centuries of history between the houses they came from.
A young Davos was practicing archery down by the border stones, unaware the large rocks were truly meant for something other than the simple job of being large rocks in the middle of the open field. He was only told never to cross them by his father... who had also told him never to wander near to them unaccompanied. 
Nevertheless, here the young Blackwood stood, a crudely made target propped up against one of the stones, alone.
He pulled back the string, one eye closed, preparing to loose the arrow. His last arrow.
Maybe this one would actually hit the target. Every shot had found purchase on the fabric at least, just out along the outer border. 
He held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he let go. 
The boys eyes flew open at the sound of a high pitched squeal and the frantic rustling of leaves, like an animal caught in a bush. He soon realized that his last arrow hadn't hit the target at all, but instead flew over the stone entirely and landed somewhere in the woods on the opposite side of the border.
Had he hit an animal? Had he been such a nuisance at archery, but his luck so spectacular, he managed to miss the target by a mile yet make his first kill?
Davos was still for a moment, if he crossed the border to find the animal, his father would surly be angry with him for his disobedience, but would he be proud enough his young son managed to strike an animal that the punishment would be forgotten? 
Surely his father would be more angry when he found his son's quiver one arrow short, and even angrier when it was explained how and where it was lost. 
But just as the toe of his boot made it across the border, the rustling of the leaves returned. 
What if he hadn't killed the beast with his misfire at all? What if he had only awoken it from it's slumber, and the beast he now wished he had paid more attention to when his father and uncle spoke of the miscreants on the other side of the border was angry and on the hunt for him. 
But, rather than some large hairy creature lumbering out from the bushes, eyes glowing and drooling with bloodlust for the one who dared disturb it, he was met with a young girl. A child of his age, if not a year or two younger--it was hard to tell with the distance which still separated the two children. The baby fat, still stubbornly hanging onto the girls cheeks, didn't help either. 
She emerged slowly, eyes curious and cautious as she scanned the area before her. Back and forth, left and right, eyes hungrily eating up each and every inch of the grass, hoping to find where the wayward arrow had come from. 
Finally her gaze found his own and he found himself calling his father a liar for the first time in his life. 
She was no beast, surely there couldn't be evil creatures over there as he had said. She was far too pretty for his father's claims to be true. She looked like something divined straight from the gods themselves. 
Her hair was tangled and sweaty where the strands had fallen loose around her face, released from the intricate braided style on the back of her head. The courtly dress draped over her figure, torn and dirty at the sleeves and rips along the bottom of the skirt with mud caked in the lower fabric as if she had been running wild through the trees. A wooden practice sword lay loosely in her hand, his lost arrow held in the other. 
She may not have been perfect to everyone, but she was to him. 
She moved forward, walking slowly, making sure to glance from side to side every few steps, ensuring the two of them were the only ones in sight. She finally stopped a couple of paces before him, she raised the arrow playfully, "I believe you may've missed your target."
"Did not." he shot back immediately, kicking himself for a little for his hastiness, but too proud to let a pretty girl think he had messed up that horribly. 
She smirked, shifting slightly on her feet, "Really?" 
"Really."
"So this is not your arrow?"
"Nope."
She hummed, looking down to the obviously hand-made and well-used projectile. The body bent in a continuous curve from over use and harsh slices in the wood from where a dull knife had been used to widdle it down. She played with the feathers on the end, running the soft material between her fingers, "You sure?" 
"Positive."
She looked up, catching the gaze of the boy just an inch or two shorter than herself, "You know I can see your bow right?" she lulled, unimpressed, "No matter how hard you attempt to shift yourself in front of it, I can still see it peeking over your shoulder." she slid around the stone separating the two, leaning down to compare the arrow with the ones firmly lodged in his target, "Not to mention the arrows are from the same bunch."
Davos stayed silent, eyes narrowed at the beautiful and strange girl before him, determined not to give in.
Perhaps if he was stubborn enough, she would forget the accusation like the maids that walked the halls at Raventree did. They always gave up before too long, scurrying off back to their duties when they'd catch him doing something he wasn't meant to. 
"Well alright then," the girl shrugged carelessly, returning to her full height, no longer crouched down on her knees, "Its probably for the best these aren't yours anyway. Shoddy craftsmanship," she spoke, caressing the wood once again, "I fear a blind man may have done a better job-"
"Hey!" he cut her off, stomping forward and ripping the arrow from her gentle grip, "I spent an entire moon on these!" 
"So it is yours then?" she questioned softly, a winning smirk pulled across her face. 
Davos could feel heat rush to his cheeks, quickly causing him to hang his head, eyes focused on the pebbles sown between the blades of grass below his feet. He already embarrassed himself enough in front of this girl, he didn't need her to see his skin flush a deep crimson as well. "No."
The two children stood before each other in an awkward silence. Both not sure what exactly to say, but neither wanting to leave just yet. 
She made the first move, stepping forward and coming to a stop beside him. No longer facing the boy head-on, but rather positioned so both were looking in the direction of the target. 
"So," she began, "how'd you manage to shoot so far off anyway?" 
"'m not good at it yet" he mumbled, face still stubbornly pointed down, "'S why I'm practicin'."
"Well, try again." 
He looked up at her confused, the flush finally fading from his skin, "What?" 
"Try again" she shrugged. "You have your arrow back, so try again." 
He sputtered, about to tell the girl off for telling him what to do, but the look in her eyes made him think twice. She was so sure of herself, so determined. He couldn't leave her there like a coward, he'd already made a fool of himself, it's not like it could be any worse. 
But he was wrong.
It could be worse.
The second he let the arrow loose, it failed to hit the target again, stopping about a foot short of the stone, stuck in the grass. 
She snorted, a hand flying up to her face to conceal the noise to the best of her ability, "Do you even know how to shoot?" 
He scoffed, turning to fix her with a nasty glare, "Of course I do."
"'Ya sure?" she smiled, "Doesn't really look like it from where I'm standing" 
His glare hardened, "And what do you know of it? You're just a girl." 
She nodded once, stepping forward to retrieve the arrow from the grass as well as the one from the target, "Maybe, but my older brother has been teaching me for years." she spoke returning to his side with a grin, "And I like to think I'm quite good." 
Davos only laughed. Like a girl would ever be allowed near a weapon, there was even less of a chance one would know how to use it. 
"I'm not jesting" she insisted, eyes narrowing in annoyance, "I do know how!"
"Sure," he laughed again, shoving the bow into her hands, "Give it a shot then, why don't you." 
"Fine." she dropped one of the arrows to the floor, shoulder-checking the shorter boy as she lined herself up with the target. 
It took her all of five seconds to load the arrow, align the point, and shoot.
And she hit the fucking center of the target too. 
She turned to face him and crossed her arms over her chest, the bow held in the crook of her elbow, with a smug smirk, "Believe me now?" 
"Whatever."
"Ok," she shuffled back to him, offering the bow back, "Your turn." 
He picked the arrow up and aimed, he was about to let go when-
"Stop!" she shouted, quickly moving behind him. "Don't be so tense" she scolded, poking him in the back, "Your elbow is too high," she moved it down slightly "You use it to help aim, it doesn't always need to be completely level." She kicked the inside of his feet next, "Widen your posture, your feet are too close. It'll mess up your balance and aim." 
"Are you done?" he gritted out, teeth clenching hard against each other. His arm began to ache, straining from the tension while she twirled in circles around him, giving him a whole explanation for each detail he had wrong. 
"Almost" She laughed softly, moving to stand over his left shoulder, "Just two more things" He groaned again, but she only giggled soft at his impatience, "Keep your eyes open. It doesn't have to be both if that's uncomfortable but keep at least one. Shooting blind is practically a death sentence. Lastly, just remember to breathe." she stated simply, "Holding your breath will lock up your muscles. Be fluid, not rigid." he nodded once, relatively relaxed bar the shaking of his tired arm on the string. "Good. Now shoot." 
He let go, and watched the whole way as the arrow soared through the air, hitting the target with a satisfying 'thunk'. It didn't hit the center like hers, but it was the closest he'd come thus far, landing on the inside of the ring just off-center. 
She jumped in excitement, clapping happily as she did so, "See! You did it!" 
"I didn't." he grumbled, "It still didn't hit the center."
"No, but it's closer" she spoke, excitement for the boy still heavy on her tongue, "All you need is some practice."  She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly, "You'll get there one day." 
He hummed unconvinced, he'd been practicing for almost a year at this point, and only now was he told what he was doing wrong. He doubted he'd ever master the art of archery but that was alright with him. He'd become more skilled with the sword during his training and found he enjoyed the blade over long-range anyway. 
Feeling her job complete, the arrow returned and an impromptu lesson to keep more from disturbing her peace, the girl nodded once and smiled at the boy, turning to cross back over the boundary and lift the practice sword she had abandoned on the other side. 
She was about to walk away, disappearing back into the thicket when Davos finally shook himself from his thoughts. "Wait!" he ran after her, quickly catching up to her and grabbing her wrist, "I'm Davos. Davos Blackwood." he introduced himself, annoyed he'd forgotten to do so earlier. 
She smiled, "Y/N Bracken." 
The two explored the underbrush for hours that day, picking through the bushes for berries and telling stories to one another. He soon found out her strange state of dress, was because Y/N had fled from the hall halfway through their meal. She ran, quickly escaping after overhearing her father and some lord discussing her betrothal. It would never go through of course, the Lord too upsettened by the girl's wild display to continue the conversation. 
She had fled through the hall, one of her brother's practice swords in hand and clumsily hitting the trees with it, hoping she could somehow teach herself to use the weapon so that her future would never need to be in the hands of another again. 
Upon hearing the story, he quickly offered his guidance to her, promising to bring two swords to the clearing the next day as long as she would bring better archery equipment. She would teach him the art of the bow, and he would show her the ways of the blade. 
Through their lessons with one another, they would ultimately come to the conclusion she preferred archery and he preferred steel, but both became skilled in the two practices nonetheless. 
Lessons slowly turned to practice, and practice turned to sparring until sparring gradually turned to something more over the years. 
Stolen kisses were shared in the shade of the branches. Words of affection whispered along the tall grass. Purple bruises and love bites exchanged under the cover of night and the watchful eye of the stars, easily concealed under the collars of their shirts. 
They hadn't begun knowing how divided they were due to their names, but even when they discovered it, they found the years of hatred between the houses hardly held a candle to the feelings they harbored for one another.
━─━────༺✧༻────━─━
Fear flooded his veins when the words changed from those of violence against the men and soldiers, to violence against the women. Violence against the children. Violence against her.
"It is clear that our forces no longer intimidate them," a man decorated in silver plated armor called from the crowd, "how are we to persuade them, as you say, if they no longer listen?" 
"We shall change our tactics" a dark smirk slowly formed across Willem's face as he spoke to his men, "The crown allows us grace to do what is necessary to gain the allegiance of the Brackens." the name left his lips with a sneer, as if saying the name itself caused him pain, "So, perhaps we move our gaze from those who've come to expect us." 
The excitement of the room changed from one of violent delight, to one of lustful rage. All men in the room, old and young alike, seemed to understand what was implied from the words of both their Lord and their King. All bets were off tonight, they were to take whatever—and whoever—they wished, just as long as it pushed the Brackens to surrender by morning light.
Davos stayed frozen upon the stairs while his Uncle spoke, and the men cheered before them. Many of which, boasting clearly of the prize they wished to gain. The prize that would give them pleasure that night, as well as potential favor with their Lord and Crown. The bargaining chip above all else, the very soul that would surely break the camel's back. 
For if Y/N, Lord Bracken's most favored and precious daughter, were to be stolen and sullied, the Bracken people would surely be broken as well. Surrender would be all but guaranteed. 
That's how he found himself sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him, subtly kicking rocks and twigs under the feet of his bannermen. Anything to slow them down. Anything that would allow him to get in front of them. Anything that would allow him to be the one that would reach her first. 
He'd heard the way they spoke about her. The things they wished to do to her. It all but made his blood boil, the urge to remove their tongues—or perhaps their manhood—was strong. It was what they deserved for speaking about his lady in such a matter. 
Yet he couldn't. He didn't care for his own safety, if he were to be hanged for defending his lady love's honor, he would do it a million times over. But the fact that the outcome on her could be worse if he were to confess, is what held him back.
He couldn't do anything in the bright lights of Raventree Hall, but if anyone were to come between his blade and his lady now, he cared not for what would become of them.
He'd kill a thousand Blackwoods if he must tonight. No one was going to touch her. 
When finally made it into the halls of Stone Hedge, he was out of breath and his lungs were burning. His breaths quick and labored as he gulped for air, but he couldn't stop until he knew she was safe. 
The words they levied against her echoed in his ears, filling him with a blinding rage that powered him forward, allowing the pain in his bones to evaporate from his mind. 
They spoke of her as if she were a piece of meat and nothing more. The beautiful Bracken girl ripe for the taking. The forbidden apple that was all but theirs for tonight. They spoke of how they wished to deflower her. To take her maidenhead, rip it away from her and claim it for themselves. "it's what we deserve after all the Brackens have done." he remembered hearing one say, "We deserve this." 
They didn't deserve shit. Hell, there were days Davos himself didn't believe he deserved her, if he didn't, then there was no way in hell they did. 
He tore through the halls, the anger in his soul bright enough to light the way. He abandoned his torch once he made it inside so none of the other men would be able to follow his trial. 
The screams began soon after he reached the second floor. The hushed symphony of horrific melodies carrying up the stairs and echoing down the stone halls, ebbing in on the wind through the windows of the keep, tempting Davos’ heart to beat faster in it's rhythm. 
The Blackwoods had begun their raid. He was running out of time. 
He cursed her in his mind, his beautiful girl more cautious than he, convincing him that their escapades should be confined to the secrecy the fields and forests provided. He had tried to persuade her to sneak into one of their homes, claiming she deserved the luxury and privacy of one of their bedrooms over his cloak on the harsh terrain. So she could feel the soft feather bed and furs beneath her back rather than the rough sticks and stones scratching her bare skin through the thin fabric. She always declined, arguing the need to keep their love in a place that matched that of which it was sewn from. Somewhere wild, free, and pure. 
He always laughed along with her, choosing to ignore the fear that gathered in the corners of her eyes. He knew the real reason, she was afraid they’d lose one another if they were to enter the enemy's halls, that they’d be caught and torn apart forever. So, he just laughed along and agreed full heartedly, dropping the idea so his girl could return to her usual carefree spirit. So her worries would be carried off on the chilled evening breeze, set ablaze in the light of the setting sun.
He lived for her, and if it was her wishes to stay confined in the bugs and dirt, he’d happily oblige without a complaint, even if he ended up with cuts along his palms, skin pierced by the rocks his cloak couldn’t cover as he hovered over her body in the foliage. 
But now, he was running through the large keeps halls, throwing open the doors of guestroom after guestroom in the residency hall. Panic increasing for each empty room revealed.
If she just let him come in once, if she allowed him to climb up the wall and through the window like he’d joked one evening, he’d know exactly where to go. 
Davos finally approached the last room in the hall, still no luck in finding her room. The voices of his men had increased, finally making their way to the level he stood.
And for the first time in years, Davos found himself praying. 
He wasn’t a particularly religious man and he hadn't been since his mother had ceased dragging him out weekly to worship the gods. He found himself finding solace in the heart trees for their beauty rather than religion and becoming more devout to the sword than the gods. But now, outside the heavy wooden door, he found himself praying quietly under his breath. To both the God’s he’d turned his back on and the ones she treasured. He prayed to both the Old gods and the new, that his own goddess would be sound and safe behind this very door.  
“Please” he whispered, “I know I haven’t been the most… pious over the years. I know I haven’t followed the rules you have set for the people” he laughed bitterly, “In fact, there were times I blatantly went against you just because I could. But please” he begged, feeling a burning form in the corners of his eyes, “please, I beg you, have her be behind this door. She doesn't deserve what's coming if I don't find her first. I may not believe you exist, but she does. Please don’t fail her now.” 
He rammed his shoulder into the door, the lock giving way after two sturdy blows, swinging open to reveal yet another dark, empty room. 
His heart stopped, split between the feeling of devastation and unadulterated rage. The emotions clawing their way up his throat, threatening to drown him if he didn’t release them soon. 
There had to be a mistake, she had to be here. Was he already too late? Had someone somehow managed to get ahead of him and steal her away before he arrived? It couldn’t be, he was the one to break the lock and sneak around the watch in the front of the keep. 
He wanted to scream. To curse the Gods, curse his uncle, curse himself.
But he couldn’t.
Instead, he punched the door frame, knuckles slamming into the stones and splitting open the thin skin from the force. A muffled curse left his lips, not loud enough to reveal himself to the men beginning their descent on the hall, but loud enough to reveal a sliver of the emotions pent up and burning its way through his veins. 
He was yanking at the strands of his tousled and sweaty black hair, pacing the area outside the open door. Mind racing as he contemplated what exactly he was meant to do next. 
But then he heard it. His saving grace. A muffled sound, a soft mumble coming from inside the bedroom followed by the quiet ruffling of sheets.
Davos whipped around, neck straining under the speed of which he snapped to face the inside of the chamber. There, he found it, shrouded in the shadows and tucked beneath the covers was a lump, with her beautiful, wild hair peeking out and laid upon the pillowcases.
He rushed into the room, slamming the door and bolting it behind him. 
It was the heavy slam that finally roused her from her sleep. She sat up in her bed, the white sheets falling down and resting over her legs as she did. She squinted into the darkness, unable to make out who it was but able to see the figure posted inside her room, the moonlight catching on the metal armor adorning the man before her. 
It was normal for a maid to come into her room, accidentally wake her in the later hours as they entered her chambers to gather things they had unknowingly left behind earlier in the day. It was strange for a knight or watchman to enter, on the eve of a gathering or a feast at the keep where her father had invited many guests a guard may be placed outside her rooms but never inside. 
“Sir?” she spoke, voice soft and confused, roughed slightly by sleep, “What is—” 
She wasn’t able to finish her question in full before the man hurtled himself at her. In a panicked haste she reached to her bedside, reaching for the heavy silver candle holder on the table, whacking the man repeatedly when he became close enough. 
“Fuck!” the man yelled, stepping back when she jumped up from the bed, swinging the candle holder before her. He reached up, one hand poorly acting as a shield before him while the other went to his brow, touching the now split skin from where she managed to strike him.
“Damn you woman” he yelled half playful and half serious, a proud smirk resting on his lips despite himself. Maybe his love didn’t need him to protect her after all. “I’m just tryin’ to help you!”
Y/N dropped the candlestick in an instant, immediately recognizing the voice that often found its way into her dreams and day to day thoughts, “Davos?” she whispered, now rushing forward, pulling him down by the neck to get a better look at the gash she’d made. “Gods, I’m so so sorry” she muttered, delicate fingers running over his brow bone and assessing the damage in the dim light provided by the moon, so focused on Davos’ injury, she failed to notice the soft smile tugging at his lips, “you–you just startled me. I’m not exactly expecting visitors in the middle of the night.” her brow crinkled in confusion, wiping away a streak of mud on his forehead and brushing through the sweat-soaked hair falling over his forehead, “And why on Earth do you look like you crawled through the riverbeds to get here?” 
He laughed, exhausted and relieved to see her standing before him. Davos reached out, grasping her elbows softly, proving to himself she was real. That he did make it in time after all. “I mean, not exactly, but that's close enough.”
She stepped back, eyes wide as saucers. Her sleep muddled mind, finally beginning to catch up with what was going on. Part of her thought it was all part of some strange dream, getting attacked in the late hours and suddenly her forbidden lover is standing before her in her bedroom. 
But it wasn’t a dream. This was real. So what in the seven hells is he doing here?
“You can’t be here!” she whispered harshly, “I–What? Davos, you need to go.” she sputtered rushing to open the door and shove him out, ushering him back off to raventree, “My father could–” 
He reached out, catching her wrist and yanking her back away from the door harsh enough her back crashed into his chest. 
“What–” 
“Stop.” he cut her off, spinning Y/N around so they faced one another, “You can’t open the door.” 
Her eyes grew even wider at his words, fear slipping into her gaze and he hated himself for being the one to put it there, “Why not?” a crash erupted not far down the hall, the sound of one of the vases clattering and shattering down onto the floor followed by a group of men, maybe three or four at least, cackling. She jumped, clinging onto his arms, her grip tight and nails cutting into his skin, “Davos? What’s happening? What’s going on?”
He looked anxiously up at the door as the footsteps grew louder, shifting Y/N and holding onto her with one arm while the other drifted to hold the pommel of his sword, “It’s a long story.” 
“Care to share the summary then?” she bit out at him, but her words were less harsh than she intended, the fear coating the statement making it far less intimidating than she’d prefer. 
“You’re in danger.” 
“Well, yeah, I kinda gathered that.” 
“This is the only one we haven’t checked,” they heard a deep voice say from through the wooden door. “Ya’ think its this one?”
“It’s gotta be” another spoke, tone giddy in a horrific kind of excitement, “It’s the last on the hall, surely the Bracken Brat is in here.” 
Davos spun on his heel, looking into her eyes with such intensity Y/N was unsure if she wanted to run or drop to her knees, “I have an idea. I need you to play along.” she nodded immediately, she trusted him with her life. Davos smiled softly, leaning down to place a long, tender kiss on her forehead, “Just remember I love you, ok? I’ll explain later, I promise.” she nodded once more, lifting on her toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 
His gaze hardened a harsh sneer screwing up his features, the grip he held on her wrist tightening, “Stop struggling! I already told you, you can’t worm your way out of this one Bracken.” 
Y/N turned, swiping her arm across her vanity, a collection of glass jars and pots tumbling from the surface and crashing to the floor, “No!” she screamed, “I won’t! You can’t make me!”
The noise from the hall silenced, and both Y/N and Davos smiled. It was working. 
“Oh,” he laughed darkly, walking her closer to the door, both of them taking turns at shoving the furniture to fake the struggle, “I most definitely can–”
“My father–”
“Fuck your father” he sneered, reaching up and helping her mess up her hair further than the slight bedhead she still had, and stretching out the neck of her pale nightgown. He then grabbed her robe, throwing it haphazardly over one of her shoulders, “He can’t help you now, the Blackwoods are taking our revenge. The Brackens will finally fall once and for all.” and with that he swung open the door, tightening his grip on her wrists to drag her through the door frame. 
“What’s this?” Y/N laughed, overexaggerating her breathing to further fake the strain of the struggle as she faced the four men outside her door, “Is Willem Blackwood's little nephew so incompetent they needed to send four men just to make sure he could get the job done?” she snarked, trying to pull herself out of Davos’ grip. 
He growled, spinning her around and yanking her back against his chest, caging the girl in with his arms tight around her waist and arms. “What do you want?” he spoke, ignoring Y/N and looking directly at the men. 
“We were coming to get her,” One spoke up, gesturing at the girl with his sword, “but it seems we missed all the fun.” 
“Nah,” another added, stepping forward gleefully and running a hand over Y/N’s hair, “he just caught her, we can still get a turn later boys.” he smirked cruelly, dirty fingers dropping down to caress her soft skin. 
Y/N shifted at the Blackwood soldier's words, glancing up and seeing the expressions of sick joy on the other’s faces at his statement.
So this is why Davos had broken into her room. She could hear the sounds of what could be happening to her from the maids down the stairs, but no, Davos had reached her first. 
She moved slightly, subtly pushing more of her weight against his chest, seeking comfort in the small gestures, that he wouldn’t let that happen to her. He gripped her tighter when she did, to both assure her she would always be safe with him, and to keep him from relieving the men before them of their heads. 
“It’s just a shame young Davos beat us,” the youngest of them, a man looking to be in his late thirties, whined, “I had plans of all the ways I wanted to take her and ruin her for the first time. See her scream as I–”
“No.” Davos grit out, cutting the man off swiftly, clenching his jaw harshly between his words and a glare that could cut through iron shifting among the four men “None of that will be happening. She is mine. She is my prize for tonight.” 
“But–”
“No!” he yelled, sneering at the men, “I am the nephew of Lord Blackwood, you will not disobey me and my claim. I fought and won her. I claimed her. She is mine. My prisoner and I am not keen on sharing.” 
Y/n did her best to keep up the act. To keep the look of fear and anger on her face and struggle to get out of his grip. But something about those words and his tone of voice made her melt inside. She knew they weren’t all true, she wasn't a prisoner, but something about the way he proclaimed her as his made her think it wasn’t far from his true feelings. 
“I will be the one taking her back to Raventree. Go find something else. You will not be laying a single finger on her, am I clear?” The four men begrudgingly nodded their heads, walking back down the hall with wounded egos.
Davos “dragged” Y/n all the way through Stone Hedge and back out the main door. He found an abandoned horse not far from the gate and quickly helped her up on the saddle. 
“You’re really taking me to Raventree?” Y/n whispered as he too, hauled himself on the horse, settling behind her. His arms wrapped around her to grasp the reins. 
“Well I kinda have to” he responded playfully, words hushed into her ear, his breaths tickling her skin, “Wouldn’t make much sense for me to take a prisoner and release her that quickly now would it?” 
“So that’s all I am to you huh?” she hummed as they made their way through the trees, the cold night air pebbling her skin through the sheer nightwear, “just a prisoner?” 
He leaned down, kissing her shoulder, “Nah, you're much more than that.” 
“You sure?” 
Davos bit at her ear, watching with a smirk as she shivered, one she’d surely claim was from the cold, “I’m Positive.” 
They reveled in the moment of relief and playful joy that encompassed them on the journey back. They both knew it wouldn’t be before long when the reality of the situation would set in. The fear would return to her bones and he would need to fully explain in detail what was going on. They would need to come up with a plan on how to move forward. 
But for now, it was just the two of them riding through their forest on horseback. 
Davos swore he would be there for her when it came time for her to shatter. When she would feel safe enough to cry for the fate of her people who couldn’t be saved as she had once they found their way to his chambers for the night, and however many after Y/N Bracken was to be a “prisoner” at Raventree.
He swore that when she broke into millions of tiny pieces, he would be there with hands ready to bleed as he held her tight and helped put all the shards back together in the intricate puzzle that was her soul. 
He would always be there for her. He would always protect her.
He swore it upon the old gods and the new.
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dumbseee · 2 years ago
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noticed pt2.
f1 au/fic: having her celebrity crush as her boyfriend was something y/n didn’t expect to happen, which she also didn’t expect is the hate she would’ve receive.
lando norris x reader.
fc: bruna marquezine.
part 1.
note: i wasn’t planning on doing a part 2 but you guys asked so you shall receive :) (i wrote that very quickly so it’s not that good i’m so sorry)
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y/n: lil photo dump because i’m living my best life with my loved ones <3 have a nice week guys!
_
landonorris: pretty girl <3
liked by y/n.
francisca.cgomes: had the best time with you baby
yourfriend: you’re shining girl
fan1: who tf is y/n? why is she even so popular?
fan2. @.fan1 bc she’s fucking lando and people have an obsession with wags
fan3: ew such a whore
fan4: why is she always half naked?
fan5: i’d be so embarrassed if i were lando bc wtf is she wearing?
fan6: lando RUN
fan7: y’all see a pretty woman dating y’all favourite driver and decide to hate her for no reason
fan8: y/n get behind me
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you couldn’t stop crying, you didn’t know what you did to deserve that. you deactivated all your socials so you won’t receive any messages from people with bad intentions, and turned off your phone that kept buzzing with notifications from friends and family. you tried to call lando, to make sure he knew that this was bullshit and that never would you even think about cheating on him. you did go to neymar’s party but only as your friend’s plus one. you talked with the footballer but for literally five minutes. the girl in the picture wasn’t you and you prayed that lando knew that. but he wasn���t answering his phone and that actually made you panic even more. your whole body was shaking, you were having a panic attack and you didn’t know how to calm it since you never had one before.
this situation was horrible for you, you didn’t even know how to fix it, of course it was all a lie but would the internet believe you? deactivating all your socials could be seen as suspicious by fans. they hated you anyway so whatever excuse you’d come up with, they’d never believe you. would lando even believe you? that thought made you sob even more, you struggled to breath and fell on the ground, resting your head on your knees. you could hear your heart beats going way too fast and you prayed for someone to help you because you were going to die from that damn panic attack.
"y/n! hey y/n!" you heard a voice, but it was faint, as if someone was calling you from very far away. "y/n, please baby! breath!" lando. it was lando’s voice. you opened your eyes and saw your boyfriend, shaking you to make you come to your senses, his eyes were glossy and he looked worried, when he saw you open your eyes and look at him he sighed softly and smiled at you. "welcome back, baby." he kissed your forehead before putting your hand on his own heart while he did the same to yours. "breath for me. we’ll do it together, okay?" you nodded slowly and started to follow his breaths. "one. two. three. yeah, you’re doing amazing my love." he smiled again and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "you scared the shit out of me." he whispered, still against your forehead. "i am so sorry, lando, i swear it’s not-" he shushed you and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a long and soothing embrace. you felt silent tears roll down your cheeks.
"don’t say a word, i already know." he says, he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed your tears away. "those pretty eyes can’t be drowning in tears, love." he added. "i trust you y/n. i love and trust you with my life, i know that you’d never do such a thing." he finished by kissing your lips. "then why did you ignore my calls?" you asked. "because i needed to get back home asap to confort you." he smiled and you swore that your heart exploded.
that was the moment where you realised how deeply in love you were with lando. he was so perfect with you, always taking care of you and putting you first. you sometimes wondered if you deserved that kind of love.
"we’re going to watch your favorite tv show, order some food and take a bath later. today is y/n self care day. and don’t think about that rumour, i’m going to take care of that." he kissed the top of your head and helped you get up from the ground.
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landonorris: i’m going to say this once and for all: y/n l/n is the sweetest most loving and respectful person i’ve ever met in my entire existence. she’s the light that keeps shining during my darkest days, she’s the presence i crave after a long day away from her. y/n has been the victim of disgusting rumours and death threats, i’ll be taking action against every single ones of you who even just commented one single bad emoji under her posts, i’ll come for you. you made her cry, i think it’s fair enough that i make you pay back for every single tear that she shed because of people like you.
_
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crappymixtape · 11 months ago
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because of you • part three
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PART I • PART II • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U •  P A R T T H R E E 🎶 thick skull ( re: julien baker ), paramore ft. julien baker
❝ GOOD GIRLS DON’T CRY & GOOD GIRLS DON’T LIE & GOOD GIRLS JUSTIFY BUT I DON’T ❞
“Think she’s okay?”
“Shh!”
“What? No way she can hear us back here.”
“Dustin, ‘back here’ is literally a seat behind her.”
Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.
For now.
And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?
Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the RV. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.
Of course they knew.
But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.
A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you glanced up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.
“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”
“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.
“Yeah, this is it.”
And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Creeping out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away, felt safe, and as Steve parked and the engine quieted you let out the breath you’d been holding.
❝ MAYBE IF YOU JUST GOT SOME GUTS WE’D KILL ‘EM WITH A THOUSAND CUTS AND SAY WE DID IT OUT OF LOVE ❞
Everyone piled out of the RV and got after their tasks. Pretended like preparing for the end of the world was totally normal and routine. Nancy and Robin sawing off the end of a shotgun. Lucas and Erica attempting to make spears from tactical knives and broom handles. Eddie and Dustin shoving each other around in the grass with their garbage can lids full of nails at their feet and none of it instilled you with confidence, but Dustin screaming No wedgies! did manage to pull a little smile out of you.
And for a split second it felt okay.
Laughter, the sound of birds, the feeling of the wind on your bare skin and all the green around you – so unlike the cracked and bitter feeling in the Upside Down and then your smile fell.
You wished He hadn’t shown you.
Wished Vecna had just left you alone. Wished for just a moment that you hadn’t gone to Max’s trailer and put yourself in the middle of all this, but then Eddie grabbed Dustin in a big bear hug and your chest squeezed.
Your best friend.
The reason why you had gone to Max’s trailer.
The reason why you weren’t going to run.
The reason this was all worth it.
“Ah, shit.”
Sat next to you, Steve sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The funnel in your hands slipping as you lost focus and liquid trickled down your hands and wrists.
“Hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped back his can of kerosene and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.
A string of curses were muttered under your breath, so much for homemade molotov cocktails.
Cheeks burning with embarrassment you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes searching yours, unsure and tentative. Moles dotting along his cheeks and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin gold like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze of him, you realized he was reaching out to you.
“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.
Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your pulse flutter against your neck.
“Uh–here, you can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, like he’d felt it too and hastily passed the cloth off to you, dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.
“Thanks,” you mumbled back.
It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up his can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hand in his and once it was steady began pouring again, eyes flicking over to look at you.
“I’m an asshole,” he suddenly admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.
“I didn’t say it,” you started and he chuckled under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like bonfires down at the quarry.
“Didn’t say you did,” he gently pushed back, lips still tugged up into a small, wry smile, but it faded the longer he looked at you. “Listen. I know we aren’t…well, I know I don’t have a great track record,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.
"No, really?" you said, all sarcasm, and he huffed another laugh.
“Hah hah,” he joked, weakly at first, and then his expression shifted more serious. “I just wanted to say that…well, that you have every right to be here it’s just–” the boy hummed around his words. Dropped his gaze down to where your hands met on the kerosene filled vodka bottle and put the can on the ground.
Talking to you like this, showing weakness and vulnerability, made him feel so exposed. Uncomfortable. Unable to find the right words and his tongue jammed into his cheek as he tried to decide just how honest he wanted to be.
With you.
“It’s just–everything about the Upside Down wants to kill you and it’s like–” he sighed heavy and carded a hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. How many more people have to die? You know?” and then he was looking at you again. Really looking, really asking, and for a second it made you doubt everything you felt about him.
Jock. Asshole. King Steve.
No second chances, remember?
“Can I ask you something?” you heard yourself say and you could feel the muddled mixture of nerves and frustration and anticipation buzzing under your skin. Everything you’d been holding onto all this time pent up and pushing against the wall you’d built around it. Waiting waiting waiting for you to set it loose.
“Oh–sure, yeah.”
“Why are you really here?”
Steve’s eyes grew wide and he sat back on his milk crate, hands squeezing at the tops of his thighs.
“Why am I here?”
“Yeah. Do you really care about Eddie?”
Steve’s eyes darted back over to where Eddie and Dustin were hammering more nails into their garbage can lids and maybe you were impatient or maybe Steve was stalling, but you didn’t want to wait.
“Cos you didn’t care about him before.”
“B-before? I don’t–what d'you mean–”
Steve was stumbling over himself now, struggling to own the words you put on him and frustration grew warm in your chest, but you tried hard to swallow it down. Tried hard to let him prove Eddie’s theory of change.
“High school, Harrington,” you started, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “Yelled at us in the quad? Tossed people’s books in the hallway? Threw fries at us in the cafeteria.” You paused, debated whether or not you wanted to tack more on, and then you thought of Tommy and it came out all on its own, “Let your friends say really shitty things to me.”
Steve’s gaze dropped down to his feet and he didn’t say anything at first, not a word, and you kicked yourself for even bothering to think he’d be able to handle it. Of course he couldn’t.
“You know what–nevermind,” you mumbled, capping your bottle and moving to stand, but his hand grabbed yours and pulled you back down onto your milk crate.
“Wait. Please?”
And the way he was looking at you was pained, the pinch between his brows deep, and it made you pause. Was Eddie right? The way Steve cared for these kids, for your best friend, showed clearly something had shifted in him, but was it enough?
“Wait for what, Harrington? So you can show me things are different now?” your voice was softer, but hurt, “Because Eddie swears you’ve changed, but you still sound just like Tommy.”
The mention of his ex-best friend felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. He knew Tommy was wrong now. Hell, he knew it back then too. Knew how fucked up it'd been in the parking lot at the school, but he hadn’t had the guts to say anything. Couldn’t stand up to him or tell him off because he ‘had a reputation to uphold’ and what would everyone else say if he went ‘soft on a freak’?
“I–I know. I fucked up. I get it and I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but–” he started truthfully, hand still holding yours, thumb shifting softly against your palm, “–but I am. Really sorry.”
Really sorry.
Finally. After all those years. After everything he’d said and done, but sorry didn’t fix it. Or take any of it back. Was it too late?
Reluctantly you pulled your hand away from Steve’s, his fingers flexing as they fell away from yours, wanting to hold on just a little bit longer but you weren’t ready.
“You know that doesn’t fix it, right?” you said quietly, glancing up at Steve through the long sweep of your lashes and guilt settled heavy over him.
He knew it didn’t fix it. Knew all too well that words didn’t mean shit, but he would be the first to admit he was a slow learner. Crawl before you walk. Hit your head and maybe something will suddenly make sense and when it came to you? Vecna had been like a sucker punch.
You were strong-willed. Didn’t take shit lying down. Were fiercely loyal to your best friend and just wanted to try to help and it had taken Steve a minute to realize – in your eyes he was still bullshit, but he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t going to be easy, not in the least, but just like you he wanted to try.
“I know it doesn’t fix it.”
His eyes squeezed shut so he didn’t have to look at you. Tried to make it easier on himself as he pushed through the discomfort of taking responsibility for his actions. Tongue running along his bottom lip, just like it always did when his brain was working overtime, he finally looked back up at you.
“I’m not asking you for forgiveness or–or to be my friend or anything. I just want you know I really am sorry. For all of it. Okay?”
Sitting there so close to him, your hands inches away from touching, holding each other’s gaze as you listened to the words falling from his lips in sincerity – it was almost too much. The wall you’d built around yourself cracking and straining against this new feeling that had settled in your chest, but the words wouldn’t come to you as your lips parted and you tried and pull yourself together but–
“Dammit, Eddie, no wedgies!”
Dustin’s voice cut through the silence that had settled and Steve reflexively sat up. Pushed himself away from whatever it was you’d waded into together. Away from sorry and the feeling of your hands pressed together and the look you gave him through the long sweep of your lashes and the way you made his heart race. Turned away from you and played it off.
“Hey! Less dicking around, more putting shit together!” he yelled at Dustin and Eddie flipped him off without looking.
“Like you’re doing anything important, big boy!” Eddie hollered back and the way it made Steve’s cheeks grow pink made your lips twitch with a smile you had to work hard to hold back.
“Shut up,” Steve muttered at Eddie, but mostly to himself, and stood from his milk crate to put your filled vodka bottle into the box with the rest.
You watched quietly as he placed the last bottle in and folded the cardboard shut. Muscles tensing and pulling taut as he worked, moving against the fabric of his shirt and you quickly looked away for fear of being caught.
Then your eye caught his nail covered bat tipped against side of the Winnebago and the threat of the Upside Down and all its nasties wrapped around you tight like a vice.
Oh.
Right.
The end of the world.
Just a few yards away Nancy pulled the trigger on her shotgun, the sound making you flinch, and it hit you like a ton of bricks – you had absolutely no clue how to defend yourself against this. Against Him. Against an army from hell. You knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the crotch and you’d always had an arm on you from playing volleyball, but none of that had anything to do with monsters. Or guns. Or nail covered bats.
“Uhm–” came out mumbled, more sound than word, and it pulled Steve’s attention up from the box.
“What’s that?”
“Can you–er–would you maybe show me how to swing that?” you asked and it made him turn to face you, giving you his full attention.
“What?”
Your cheeks grew hot.
“That bat,” you said shifting uncomfortably on your crate, “I don’t think–I can't shoot a gun.”
Steve’s expression softened as he remembered what it'd felt like the first time he saw a demogorgon. The first time he swung that very bat into the side of a demodog. The first time this world had been exposed to him and he knew how overwhelming and absolutely crazy it all felt.
Grabbing the bat in his hand he gave you a small smile and took the few steps back over to you.
“Sure. It’s not too hard. You know, just aim and swing.”
“Just aim and swing?” your tone was flat, all skeptics, a defensive move against his kindness and it made him chuckle.
“Well, there’s probably more to it than that, but those stupid bats are thick enough when they swarm it’d be hard for anyone to miss.”
Your eyes grew wide at the thought of swarming bats and it made him laugh again, a half-grimace pulling at his features.
“Shit, sorry. Uh–here,” readjusting his grip he bent his knees a bit and dug his heel into the ground. “Just make sure you get a wide stance, yeah? Like, hip width apart? And don’t be afraid to choke up on your hold. It’ll make your swings hit harder.”
He swung the bat and the sound it made as it cut through the air made your breath catch in your throat.
“Wanna try?” the boy held the crude weapon out to you and you swallowed thick. Stood up from your own milk crate and tentatively took it from him.
It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you thought it’d be, but smooth. You did as he said and slid your hands up a little further on the handle and tried a swing, but threw yourself off balance and stumbled forward.
“Ah, that’s okay. Here, uh–” Steve stepped in behind you and placed his hands over yours on the bat, “–try again, but follow through with your hip. Your grip’s good, just don’t throw your full weight forward.”
The warmth of his chest on your back made your cheeks burn again. Made your heart race. Hammering against your ribcage as he slowly took you through the motion again.
“Then when you get to the end of the swing, follow with your hip," his voice was much quieter over your shoulder, words falling into your ear and making you dizzy as he tried so damn hard to keep his focus. Placed a hand on your waist to guide it and toed your foot forward with his shoe as he took a step. “See?”
“Yeah,” was all you could manage, the feeling of his breath on your neck trailing goosebumps across your skin and you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way the closeness of him pulled your gaze and when you looked up he was looking too.
“Does that–uh–did that make sense?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and you nodded. A small thing that barely registered and he was so close now. Close enough his nose nearly brushed your cheek, getting closer by the second and–
“Harrington! Where are those bottles? I gotta get ‘em loaded up!” Eddie yelled from the other side of the RV and the space between you shattered. Both of you stepping away as though you’d touched a hot stove and you pressed the bat into Steve’s hands.
“Should probably get ready,” you muttered and he nodded, cleared his throat and took two big steps back to set the bat down.
“Coming!” Steve called back as he scooped up the box of molotov cocktails, bottles clinking against each other as he walked away and disappeared around the corner of the RV.
King Steve turned Steve Harrington.
Steve Harrington turned something else.
Something more.
Something you thought you’d written off.
Something that held you so tightly now it made you want to run, but at the back of your mind, somewhere soft and warm, you couldn’t help wondering what might happen if you didn’t.
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART THREE OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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agaypanic · 11 months ago
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former theater kid as well !! maybe a story about regina with a gf in theater club ?
My Little Star (Regina George X Theater Kid!Reader)
Masterlist
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Summary: Your girlfriend comes to see you in your last high school show.
A/N: depending on which regina you’re envisioning with this, au where everyone has smartphones. post!mean girls regina bc then i wont feel too bad if she seems too ooc. ive been thinking a lot about romeo and juliet lately so the play is romeo and juliet teehee
***
If you had told your younger self that at the end of your senior year, you’d be the leading star in your final show and be dating Regina George, she would’ve thought you were insane.
Yet here you were, getting ready for the opening night of Romeo and Juliet while your girlfriend spam-texted you words of encouragement.
Regina <3
You’re gonna do so good, I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU!!!
I was gonna keep it a surprise until after the show, but I got your favorite 
*Sent 1 Attachment*
Unlocking your phone to respond, you were greeted with a picture of Regina sitting in the auditorium holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. She had a great big smile on her face, her eyes squinting from it. 
Your breath hitched. You knew Regina loved you, but the picture radiated her feelings of pride for you. It made you want to run out and smother her in affection.
Instead, you texted her back.
You
OMG you’re literally the sweetest Regina!!
I’ll be looking for you in the audience lol
Regina <3
I’m sitting in the very center, so hopefully I’m easy to spot
Especially with this giant ass bouquet
You laughed at the message and soon got a tap on your shoulder from one of your friends, telling you places were in five minutes.
You
I have to go, we’re gonna start soon
But I’ll be looking for you :)) 
You waited until you saw a response from Regina before putting your phone in your bag.
Regina <3
YOU’RE GONNA DO AMAZING
BREAK A LEG <3333
DON’T ACTUALLY BREAK A LEG THO
THAT’D BE BAD
I LOVE YOU!!!
Laughing at her stream of messages, you put your phone away and rushed out to your place. As much as you revel in the fact that you had a leading role, you were already waiting for the show to be over so you could see Regina.
***
If you had to choose one, the death scene was probably your favorite. It was dramatic, which was always fun, and you got to stab yourself with a retractable blade.
“What’s here? A cup, closed in my true love’s hand?” You took the empty cup out of Romeo’s, whose real name was Jared, stiff hand, inspecting it. “Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after?” You dropped the cup in distress, wondering what to do. Then your eyes fell on Jared’s lips, and you had a revelation. “I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make die with a restorative.”
You held his face gently in your hands and leaned down to kiss him. Every time you went through a kiss scene with Jared, you pretended it was Regina you were kissing. The passion seemed more authentic that way.
You pulled away, staring down at Jared.
“Thy lips are warm.” You said brokenheartedly. You were just barely too late. If only he had waited a while longer to drink the poison so you’d be awake to stop him.
“Lead, boy: which way?” You heard from offstage. 
“Yea, noise?” You looked toward the direction of the noise’s source in a panic. “Then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger!”
You grabbed Romeo’s dagger and raised it to the audience. And that’s when you caught a glimpse of Regina. Despite the room being dark and her being far away, you could feel her excitement as she watched. You had to stop yourself from smiling.
“This is thy sheath,” You say before shoving the dagger into your heart. You gasp a little and look up. To the audience, you could’ve been looking up to the heavens in your last moments. But you were doing your best to stare into Regina’s eyes that were fixated on you. “There rust, and let me die.”
With that, you fell on top of Jared’s body, doing your best not to crush him as you ‘died.’
The scene continued from there, and you did your best not to move. Your back was killing you from the long show, but eventually, it ended. When you came out for bows, you heard a particularly loud cheer, and you didn’t have to guess who it was. It made you smile even more, so much that your cheeks started getting sore.
When the bows were over, and the cast and crew were finding their friends and family in the audience, you ran to Regina. It was a bit difficult weaving through the crowd, especially in your costume, but eventually, you reached the blonde, who had her arms opened wide and ready to catch you.
“You were amazing!” Regina all but shouted in your ear as she hugged you, squeezing you tightly. “Absolutely showstopping. One day, you’ll be a famous actress.”
“You think too highly of me, Regina.” You said with a giggle, and you were sure that your reddening cheeks were showing through your heavy stage makeup.
You grabbed your girlfriend’s face and kissed her. It was a million times better than pretending you were kissing her instead of Jared when you were on stage. Regina’s hands dropped to your hips, pulling you close against her. When you let out a little moan, you knew you should pull away before you felt like you couldn’t turn back.
“These are for you,” Regina said before biting her slightly swollen lip, giving you the giant bouquet she had gotten for you. One thing about Regina was that she was never cheap.
“I love them.” You smiled, giving her a few pecks.
“Anything for you, my little star.” The nickname made you giddy, made you feel like you were the only ones in this gigantic room. “Now how about you go change, we get some food, and then you sleep over at my house?”
“That sounds perfect.” You kissed Regina again; it was like you were addicted to her lips. “I should go now. If I kiss you anymore, I’ll probably never leave.”
“I definitely wouldn’t complain,” Regina smirked, but agreed that you should go change. She turned you around by the shoulders and gave you a quick pat on the butt to send you on your way, laughing at the way you squealed in surprise.
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insomniacirl · 1 year ago
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!! MAJOR JRWI EPISODE 114 SPOILERS AHEAD !!
-
I just had a sick and twisted fucking thought about episode 114 and I need to share it to the world.
Okay, so Chip realises his mistake- trusting Gillion's clone and failing to see the red flags because, well it's Gill (I could go on a rant about this too)- Gillion's clone has pushed him to the ground and is towering over him. If Chip could bleed, his nose would probably be bloody.
And at this exact moment, where Chip can't use his magic to defend himself and his best-friend is threatening to kill him- we cut back to the real Gillion, who is running up these flights of stairs away from a monster that could literally breathe on him and end his life, he's on 1HP.
AND HERE'S THE THING. HERE'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT.
Destiny's Blade glows in Gillion's hands and whispers that, 'Chip is about to die.'
Gillion- with zero hesitation- goes running to find him and save his life.
THIS SCENE HAS SO MANY LAYERS TO IT- YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, MAN- ISTG.
So, for starters, Chip is undead- he physically cannot die, or at least not very easily; I'm guessing that it would take an incredibly powerful, god like entity/bad guy to actually end his undead life now. And yet, Destiny's Blade says that he's about to die.
The blade itself was designed for slaying the undead and the evil entities Gillion himself was designed to fight against- but when it comes to Chip, there's nothing Gillion wouldn't do to protect him with this sword. And that reflects on Destiny's Blade, I would imagine- the blade supports Gillion's destiny, his fight for good.
And to add to this, I don't know if Chip actually could've been killed by clone Gillion- but the idea that he came close and that the sword instinctually reached out to save his life is just- WRAH.
It also highlights just how scared Chip was, because he couldn't fight the clone even if he wanted to, not only because of the magic barrier- but because it's Gill, his co-captain, his best-friend, his paladin (a pirate and his paladin I'm sorry- I love them sm lmao).
And yes, Gillion is known for taking ridiculous risks to keep his friends safe, willing to take every blow and keep fighting like it doesn't hurt because he's a knight, he was trained for this, this is what he's good at- but he runs to find Chip, ON 1HP. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH- THIS MAN WAS IN PIECES, HIS SKIN HAD BEEN TAKEN FROM HIM, AND IF NOT FOR THE DEATH WARD HE PROBABLY WOULD'VE DIED. But he runs off to find him anyway, no hesitation, no thought of his own well-being, only that Chip is in serious danger and he needs to save him. He won't let him die twice.
PRAYING THAT SOMEONE READS THROUGH THIS TANGENT TBH BECAUSE I'M GOING INSANE RIGHT NOW- I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG LMAO 😭🙏
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cosmerelists · 3 months ago
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Top 10 Cosmere Fake-Outs: Ranked by How Well they Fooled Me
By "fake-outs," I mean times when the narrative tried to convince me that something had happened or was true (for example: this character is DEAD!) when in fact it was all a lie.
By necessity, THIS POST WILL CONTAIN LOTS OF MAJOR SPOILERS!
Specifically: Major spoilers for Warbreaker, Stormlight Archives, Mistborn Eras 1 and 2, and Yumi & the Nightmare Painter. I won't put character names in the titles of the entries, but if you haven't read all of those listed works, please move on!
#10: A Words of Radiance Death
In Words of Radiance, Jasnah is attacked by assassins while on board a ship with Shallan. Shallan sees Jasnah's lifeless body being stabbed, and then the ship literally goes down in flames. Jasnah has certainly died!
Yeah...I didn't buy it for even one second, to be honest. I was twiddling my thumbs waiting for the reveal that Jasnah had actually survived, because of course she did. (This is not a complaint!)
#9: A Secret Project Death
At the end of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter, Yumi dies, and it's a real fake-out. Sanderson goes so far as to have a secret, extra epilogue that isn't in the table of contents where her death is reversed. I wasn't quite as sure while reading that Yumi would survive--at least, not as sure as I was when Jasnah "died." But I was pretty sure. 
#8: A Mistborn Era 1 Death
Specifically: Kelsier. When Kelsier dies at the end of Book 1 (!), I was shocked...and suspicious. Would Sanderson really kill off a character like Kelsier in Book 1??? Well, as it turns out...yes. But also no. Because Kelsier clings to "life" as a Cognitive Shadow and is still off doing things in future books. So I still count this one as a fake-out!
#7: Another Mistborn Era 1 Death
Another character who "dies" in Mistborn Era 1 is Marsh, Kelsier's brother. They find what they think is his completely obliterated body and are like "oh no." Of course, any time there is a completely obliterated body, we as readers will be suspicious: if it's really Marsh, why no face? But I actually wasn't too very suspicious of this one because Marsh felt like a character who could die, narratively speaking. I didn't, like, drop my book out of shock when he turned back up, but I was more surprised than I had been with the others.
#6: Just An Innocent Old Man in Way of Kings
This is referring to Taravangian, who in Way of Kings is presented as a dottering old man who's well-meaning but not too bright. I'm not going to lie, I bought this one hook, line, and sinker. The villain reveal for Taravangian did take me almost completely by surprise! The impact was only lessened insofar as I wasn't that interested in Taravangian pre-reveal, so I didn't feel, like, betrayed or anything.
#5: Nice Guys in Warbreaker
I 100% believed that Denth and Tonk Fah worked for Lemex, were relatively sad about his totally natural death, and were sincerely working for Vivenna afterwards. This is in spite of the fact that the narrative was not at all shy about dropping hints that this was not true. There's the fact that we're told people with tons of breaths are strong & healthy...yet I was like, "Yeah, makes sense that Lemex died of natural causes." We see Vasher position himself against Vivenna and company, and yet I was like, "Vasher probably has his reasons but it's not like Vivenna and company are doing bad things." This one was a shock especially because I liked Denth & Tonk Fah! 
#4: Dalinar and Amaram are BFFs forever
This one runs the risk of being more of a plot twist than a fake-out...but hear me out. We're led to believe that Dalinar has finished investigating Amaram and has decided not to believe Kaladin; he and Amaram are BFFs forever and ever. Then there's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment when Dalinar is "out sick" for a week, but I for one thought nothing of that. Then it turns out that Dalinar was in fact laying a trap for Amaram, which Amaram waltzed right into, and Dalinar finally learned the truth. So I think it counts as a fake-out: I was certainly very surprised when Dalinar called Kaladin up "for an apology" and it turned out to be Amaram who needed to apologize. 
#3: Jasnah's Soulcaster
Shallan's whole plot line in Way of Kings is centered around her trying to steal Jasnah's very real and functional Soulcaster by swapping it for Shallan's broken one. Personally, it did not occur to me for even a second that Jasnah's Soulcaster also didn't work and was also a fake, so Shallan simply swapped one fake for another. In part, this was because I did not understand how any of the magic worked on Roshar at this point. But still. It definitely fooled me good.
#2: A Mistborn Era 2 Death
I will admit, it never even entered into the realm of possibility for me that Wax's old wife, Lessie, wasn't dead. We watched her die in the flashback. She was buried. She felt like just one of those fridged women and I had not even a shred of doubt that her death actually happened. I was so sure that when Bleeder literally reverted into Lessie's form and voice, I just assumed she had eaten Lessie's bones. This one really, REALLY shocked me.
#1: Mistborn Era 1: Follow the Ancient Text
But even so, I think the fake-out that most shocked me was the one at the end of Well of Ascension. Vin knew, per the very accurate ancient writings left behind by Kwaan, that she had to resist the power offered by the Well and give it up--even if that meant letting someone she loved die. This felt like such a classic climax and source of tension, that I was just waiting with baited breath hoping that Vin would give up the power. And she did. And it was a mistake. Because it turns out that if you copy down Kwaan's words--which were inscribed in metal so that they could not be altered--on to paper, then Ruin's gonna alter them and you can't trust the ancient prophecy after all. In following the "prophecy" at great personal cost, Vin was just doing what Ruin wanted anyway.
I'm still not over this one. 
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preseriesdean · 8 months ago
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if you don’t mind me asking, could you share some of your favorite fanfics or authors? thanks ❤️
oh hi hello!! yes of course!! i actually haven't read any spn fic in a while but i have spent a lot of time organizing my bookmarks. i'm going to assume that you meant samdean fic but i'll add a few non-samdean ones at the end.
authors!
@zmediaoutlet (deadlybride on ao3)
candle_beck (ao3)
@goshen-applecrumbledore (ao3)
whereupon (livejournal)
Linden (ao3)
sevenfists (ao3)
there are so many more great authors but these came to mind :)
fics!
i am going to list my forever-favorites first - the ones i would recommend to anyone and everyone, screaming-from-the-rooftops kind of love - and then many many more under the cut.
beloved by urchinesque (2016, 1.9k, NR, warning: death) It might be the gentlest thing that's ever happened to them.
in my opinion everyone should read this once. it's quick. they die. it's-- happy, somehow. beautiful. i think about it all the time.
Last Day on Earth by candle_beck (2009, 10.8k, E) A list of things to do if you only have one day to live, presented in inconvenient non-list form.
last year my best friend and i were pondering which fic felt quintessential to samdean for us and somehow settled on this one. i still agree with the choice.
Odysseus, American by coyotesuspect (2010, 10k, M) Dean finds Peter O'Toole's recording of the Odyssey in a bin marked “Audio" in Casa Grande's only used bookstore. The place smells like cigarette smoke and old books, and it reminds him of Sam. Stanford era.
my favorite stanford era fic. i think it captures dean's loneliness and desperation beautifully.
A man with his insides out and his outsides off by britomart_is (2016, 5.3k, E, time travel, underage) They say there are only two stories in the world: man goes on a journey, and stranger comes to town.
another fic i want everyone to read. it's so short and feels like a novel. sam is messed up and dean is in love and everything is miserable.
Breathing Hard by whereupon (2009, 9k, E) The day Dean figures it out.
this is so simple and yet-- everything to me. i can't think about dinosaurs without thinking about this fic, which doesn't tell you much, but you'll see. sometimes this is really all you need.
The Last Outpost of All That Is by gekizetsu (2008, 59k, E) The world ends while they’re asleep.
this fic has stayed with me my whole life. i thought about it even during my years away from spn and fandom entirely. they're alone and you don't know why and they build their life together and you end up wondering, is this hell or heaven? whenever i come across a screenshot of the last couple of paragraphs i want to cry.
see things so much clearer by deadlybride (2020, 11.7k, E) Sam's been acting oddly. Dean learns how to use the history on an internet browser and finds out why.
this is a fic that hits the spot for me personally so well. another favorite preseries fic. i love the idea of sam using livejournal, and of dean finding out this way.
Stay The Distance by lazy_daze (2011, 24k, E) Sam is dependent on Dean's touch and closeness after the wall falls - Dean's presence reminds him of why he chose to wake up, and keeps the memories at bay, allowing Sam to function.
i love enmeshment, and i love that here it's literal. i love that they're just sort of fine with it.
more fics below!
in absolutely no particular order whatsover. please check the warnings and tags on these before reading!
Recall by De_Nugis (2012, 6.3k, E) Sam's having a hard time telling what's real and what isn't, especially when it comes to some voicemails from Dean.
Living in god's blind spot by applecrumbledore (2022, 25k, E) Of all the situations Dean didn’t need his dad to see him in, ‘getting off to being pushed around by a guy’ was in the top three. And ‘a guy’ was a massive glossing-over of reality. Any guy—any other guy—would be bad enough, but Sam was fucking cataclysmic.
Almost At Home by balefully (2008, 24.3k, E) Sam graduates from high school in early June in rural Tennessee. He and Dean start the summer with an all-nighter of celebration; the day after, while both fight hangovers, John calls to assign them their first hunt by themselves.
they said it was the fall of man by jukeboxhound (2016, 7.4k, M) Sam gets his soul back on a Monday.
When I Fall Asleep It Is Your Eyes That Close by britomart_is (2009, 1.9k, E) Post-Season Two. Sam is alive. Dean is happy.
Life As We Know It by sevenfists (2007, 13.7k, M, curtain fic) On the morning that Sam woke up, Dean ran five red lights on the way to the hospital, his half-empty coffee cup sloshing in the holder.
tied up like two ships by orphan_account (2014, 3.1k, E) Dean liked to hold hands.
Gospel Truth by Cerberuss (2020, 15.2k, E, case fic) ‘DOES YOUR BROTHER KNOW THAT YOU WANT HIM?’ Individually placed letters, bold and tinged brown with the weather. Sam can’t look away and he prays, dream dream dream.
Buy You A Mockingbird by candle_beck (2011, 10.3k, M, underage, outsider pov) A genuine horror story.
because you want to die for love by hathfrozen (2021, 27.3k, E) Sam and Dean settle into their Heaven—and into each other, too.
the constant vow by deadlybride (2022, 119k, E, fem dean-ish) They've just finished up a pretty standard job and are killing time in snowy Wisconsin when Dean wakes up no longer looking like Dean. That's just the start of their problems.
This Fortress Made of Us by mickeym (2009, 10.8k, E) Sam really didn't do very well without his brother. Coda for Mystery Spot.
State of Love and Trust/As I Busted Down the Pretext by cormallen (2010, 2.9k, M) When you know exactly what your brother's thinking, there are some chances you just don't take.
Quiet with the Rain by Linden (2014, 5.3k, T) Dean can spot an undercover cop at thirty paces, a hooker at twenty, and rims that will match his baby's at ten. But the fact that his little brother is in love with him—that, he can't see worth a damn.
have a cigar by deadlybride (2020, 5.6k, E) What happened with Andy and Ansem unsettles Sam. Dean doesn't seem worried.
Heart Shaped Balloon by winsive (2022, 18.5k, E, underage) Sam and Dad are fighting. No surprise, but it's the weekend before Valentine's Day and Dean isn't missing out on the chance to bang a cheerleader just to console his bratty little brother. He does bring back a heart shaped balloon for him, though. It's not supposed to be cursed.
Bare by gracerene (2022, 2.2k, T) Of all the things Dean hasn't done before, Sam never expected something as innocuous as skinny dipping to be on the list.
Speechless by candle_beck (2008, 11.2k, T, case fic) Dean loses his voice and their rapport is only moderately impaired.
Like It Was Yesterday by nomelon (2014, 4.9k, T, fem dean, amnesia) Sam can't remember a time when Dean wasn't there. Dean is always with him. Sam's whole life, there's never been anyone else.
Like a Ghost with Two Voices by Dyed_Red (2022, 46k, E) To cure Dean from the Mark of Cain, Sam has to let Dean, in all his demonic glory, possess him for 28 days. It goes about as well as expected.
Breathe You In (Choke You Down) by orphan_account (2021, 5.9k, E, pwp) Dean really likes the way Sam smells.
lost in yesterday by margaryes (2023, 1k, NR, john pov) John hasn’t seen his youngest son in 18 months.
Unraveling by Linden (2017, 855 words, E) No, he’d said, the first time Sammy had tried to kiss him, sixteen and half-drunk and stupidly beautiful, even though he’d wanted so badly to say yes.
pack up the moon by deathdreamt (2021, 5.9k, T, pre-slash) Sam storms back out from their room, his backpack on and his duffel hanging off his shoulder and isn’t it kind of tragic that his whole life fits in two bags. He looks suddenly much younger than he is, eyes shining. John is back at his guns, whiskey at his elbow, and Dean can hardly believe how rapidly his life is cracking down the centre.
Yesterday, minnesota by applecrumbledore (2022, 30k, E, case fic) Any initial awkwardness filtered away over a hundred miles of highway as Sam thumbed through the missing witch’s diary again. Some people had secret coke habits or secret second wives, and some people had passionate, pitch black, no-kissing sex with a family member every four to six months and never talked about it. You had to find ways to cope.
All Heartless Spectres, Happiness by orphan_account (2021, 5.6k, E) Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. (soulless sam)
The Palm Oasis by fictionallemons (2022, 12.3k, E, underage) John strands Dean and Sam at a middle-of-nowhere motel while he investigates possible demon omens in Arizona. The place is nothing to write home about, but at least it has a pool. Dean resolves to think of this as a vacation for him and his studious little brother, but when their money runs out sooner than expected, he considers turning tricks at a nearby truck stop so he can feed Sam.
Other Brothers by homo_pink (2020, 7k, M, underage, outsider pov) A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.
Leader of the Pack by astolat (2007, 14.9k, E) Teaching old dogs new tricks.
Underground Wires by eggnogged (2012, 15.8k, E, fem sam, underage) It’s hard enough being a teenage girl even without all the extra crap: they move around all the time, her family is as far removed from normal as it’s possible to get, and she’s in love with her older brother. Sam has no control on any of it, she’s just trying to stay afloat.
Multitude of Sins by Linden (2015, 4.4k, T, outsider pov) Every now and again, Jim Murphy would look up from his altar and find the Winchester boys at the back of his church.
Like Arrows in the Hands of a Warrior by ADeedWithoutaName (2018, 10.3k, E, underage, dub con-ish, john pov) John Winchester loves his boys, and would take a bullet for either of them. He knows that he's doing it right, the way he's raising them, the things he's teaching them. Not every problem, however, has an easy answer. Like what to do after an incubus case in which their target got his pollen all over both of John's sons.
You Can't Lose What You Never Had by nigeltde (2016, 5.6k, E) You can't spend what you ain't got, and you can't lose what you ain't never had.
Flagstaff by Linden (2014, 7.3k, T, pre-slash, john pov) John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.
I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger by fleshflutter (2007, 3.8k, M, outsider pov) If Chase were a better friend, he might try to end the game now, before Brendan loses even more money. But if Brendan is a dick at Stanford, it’s nothing compared to how he is on break.
Cupid's Got A Gun by geckoholic (2012, 13.5k, E, non-con) Fuck-or-die, set in early S4. But they've been fucking for years, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong. Ever since hell, Dean's in no hurry to get that show on the road again.
Someone Else's Blood by sevenfists (2006, 6.7k, E) The first time, of course, was an accident. (pretend dating)
How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze (2009, 26k, E, swesson) AU from the end of It's A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?
Worthless cartography by applecrumbledore (2022, 15.6k, E) Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)
The Space Between Sense and Memory by orphan_account (2021, 4.8k, T) There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t.
Ions in the Ether by nigeltde (2019, 10.9k, E, case fic) When was the last time you trusted happy.
Crossed Wires by rivkat (2015, 10.9k, E) Dean thinks Sam is dead.
Crown and Anchor Me (or let me sail away) by Sena (2010, 23.7k, E, underage) Sam Winchester is fifteen years old, at yet another new high school in yet another state, he doesn't get along with his distant, distracted father, he's figuring out that he likes guys just as much as he likes girls, his clothes never fit and his limbs ache at the joint ever since his growth spurt started, he has to study for the PSAT and, oh yeah, he's a little bit in love with his brother, Dean, who's taken a break from hunting monsters to work at a local garage for minimum wage.
Wear Him Lika a Habit by sevenfists (2008, 2.2k, M) Their first kiss isn't an accident. It's anticipated well in advance, discussed for weeks, argued over, second-guessed.
Amor Prohibido by phoenixflight (2020, 3k, M, underage) They spent the spring of Sam's sophomore year living in a shitty apartment south of San Antonio. Every Friday night the clearest channel played three hour marathons of a Spanish soap called La Casa del Corazón. There was a mutually understood truce about watching it, because the alternatives were infomercials or creepy kids’ cartoons that futzed into static every fifteen seconds.
Open Road by Mollyamory (2010, 2k, T) Sam's old enough to know what's good for him.
It's the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu (2011, 38.4k, time travel) Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see.
North of Wednesday by Mollyamory (2008, 3.5k, G) Sam's behind the wheel before he realizes he doesn't have the keys. Coda to Mystery Spot.
non-wincest fic.
dean/omc. We Drank a Thousand Times by glorious_spoon (2010, 43k, M, warning: death) They meet in a bar fight in North Carolina when Dean is nineteen, broke, and desperate, then again when a hunt brings the Winchesters into town a few years later. Neither one of them ever puts a name to it but every once in a while, through the years, Dean finds his way back.
dean/cas: terror & desire intertwined by rupertgayes (2022, 39k, M) Faced with Castiel suffering a fate worse than death, Dean makes the decision to let Cas use his body as a temporary vessel. All things considered, Dean thinks, it could have gone worse.
gen, sam&dean: what lasts by deadlybride (2021, 17.2k, M) Not long after they move into the bunker, Dean loses a leg. Most of a leg. After the hospital, Sam brings him home, and they figure out how to live with what remains.
gen, dean-centric: To Repair Broken Men by procrastin8or951 (2015, 3.1k, T) Dad and Sam keep fighting. Dean can't fix his family, so he fixes things around the crappy apartment they are staying in.
dean/michael: our hour came round at last by orphan_account (2015, 1.8k, NR, pwp) "I want to be inside you," says Michael, low and velvet and hungry and that really shouldn't turn Dean on but it does.
dean/lucifer, dean/cas: exploratory by sp8ce (2022, 4.9k, E, non-con) One night, Castiel proposes he and Dean have sex. Except it's a little more complicated than that.
dean/cas: for a healthy heart by Askance (2013, 2.4k, T) A strange black box appears in Castiel's bedroom one afternoon.
gen, sam&dean: charmer & gentle by Askance (2015, 3.7k, G, outsider pov) The afternoon girl calls them Big and Tall, the strangers who come in late every now and then, buying this or that. The night girl doesn't think those names fit quite right.
dean/cas, past sam/dean: whose wings, though tattered, shall carry me home by fleshflutter (2009, 2.2k, T) There is a breeze moving across the field. It stirs the long grass in lapping waves like the sea. Castiel runs his fingertips through it and remembers flying.
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pikahlua · 20 days ago
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Ahhh I meant to ask, if you do end up giving thoughts on the leaks, I would LOVE to know your thoughts and this epilogue’s endings for bakugou (obviously!) and ochako as well.. in detail pls hehe
Everyone and their dog apparently wants my thoughts on the chapter, and I have to say I just don't wanna give them in the detail people seem to crave. Look, the chapter is meh. It's just meh. There are some cute things that happen in it and it seems that's at the expense of consistency in the story. They clearly didn't think about the things they were implying hard enough. Oh, Izuku and Ochako just didn't fucking interact for 8 years after high school but NOW Izuku wants to talk more? What about Ochako's school program with children that seems RIGHT UP Izuku's alley? They're both practically pursuing the same thing but apparently never breathe each other's air. Despite not thinking about each other for literal years apparently they're still attracted to each other, which, why? What are they attracted to? They're entirely new people now, they're meeting as adults with quite a few years missing between them? Oh, here's the rankings but also we're gonna give a throwaway line about how they're volatile and useless bUT STILL WE'RE GONNA GIVE YOU THEM. THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING ACTUALLY BUT HERE THEY ARE. Okay let's just imply Himiko is going to be Ochako's voyeur for life.
But worst of all is the weird idea that this is somehow the logical conclusion of the story that came before it. A conclusion should cap off the themes of its story and MAYBE introduce a new question to ponder. The story should LOGICALLY lead to the conclusion. But this conclusion basically turns around and says "Things change when you're an adult. You'll be a totally different person and maybe have new dreams. Except also you may not. Life is normal and boring and dreams sometimes die." What? WHAT????? Where's the theme of service to others? Where's the theme of heroes inspiring the next generation? Why are we implying heroes who are too good at their job will force their job to become unnecessary and die out but then try to prove no wait heroes are still necessary because sometimes people get weird urges to steal cars? What? Whatttt??? So heroes just exist now to be the quirk police basically. This is what all those kids were growing up to be? That's a weird implication after a whole story where the entire adult generation showed a VERY DIFFERENT AND MORE ADMIRABLE BRAND OF HEROISM (except for those that didn't, which was far more interesting than whatever this is). So the future of heroes AND villains is banality? Petty useless shit?
This is why 430 was such a good ending chapter. It DID showcase heroism in a mundane setting that actually had meaning and impact and inspiration. It made Izuku's adult life look like a fulfillment of his dream just in a new way.
In 431, Katsuki Bakugo is the only major character that shows a connection to the story that came before. He's the only one that still dreams of heroism and unity and inspiration, and he still thinks about who Izuku is deep down and resolves to save him from his stupidity AND SUCCESSFULLY DOES IT. He's the only one that resembles the heroic ideal that All Might supposedly instilled in everyone's hearts. MAYBE Ochako does too, but it's for a brief flash and then suddenly we're back on the mundane train (pun not intended) in a bad way.
And Shouto. Shouto can stay because he's the only character who PROPERLY introduces the question of "more to a hero than heroism" in the ending as a conclusion that introduces a new question, but it just...doesn't lead anywhere. I could see a potential path for that to have led the chapter somewhere meaningful, but it didn't.
So I maintain Katsuki is standing there watching on as the only character thinking about how the fuck to inspire people to be heroes again.
In summary, if I consider this the actual conclusion to the whole story, it's ass. I don't want it. It's useless and almost condescending. It's like the chapter is shaming me. How dare I enjoy the 430 chapters that came before, how dare I dream and feel inspired, how dare I expect anything of the concept of "hero" introduced by All Might and then the next one introduced by Izuku? But if I consider it an extra DLC bonus omake what-if didn't-think-too-hard-about-this-I'm-just-spitballing-and-having-fun-or-whatever side comic, fine, whatever, the mundane banality it wants to be succeeds, because I'm bored and I'm ignoring it. I'll have fun with it in fanfic maybe if I feel like it, but I ain't tying this shit into the themes of the actual MHA story. It doesn't belong there.
If that all sounds like more than you bargained for with your ask, it's because I received 30 other asks all wanting me to expand on these points, and so I decided to consolidate them all here. It's just too many asks for me to respond to individually. If I don't answer your ask, random anon reading this, it's because I consider your ask answered well enough.
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rishiguro · 7 months ago
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59; “I DON’T WANT TO DIE”
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iwaizumi usually did his best to enjoy the visits to you. he made a conscious effort to show up whenever possible - which lately seemed to be almost every day - and he made sure to soak in every second he got to spend with you.
who knows how many he had left with you.
even on bad days he was always a hundred percent present, waving away any thought of work or other issues and focusing entirely on you. that didn’t mean that he didn’t confide in you or shared anything with you, quite the opposite actually. he was aware of how much you enjoyed listening to him talk - or even rant - about his day.
however, today was different.
you were quiet, more quiet than usual, and barely even looked at him. if you did say something, it were mostly one worded answers and everything came out snappy.
honestly, iwaizumi didn’t want to think about it too much. he couldn’t possibly imagine the situation you were in currently, but he was sure that you weren’t avoiding him like that on purpose.
he couldn’t deny that it made his heart hurt though.
after the n-th minute of awkward silence between the two of you, with you staring at your phone with such an intensity that it was obvious that you forced yourself to not look at him for even a fraction of a second, iwaizumi couldn’t stand the lingering tension any longer.
leaning forward, he put one hand on top of your thigh. “love?” he asked. “what’s wrong?”
you still didn’t even glance at him as you replied monotonously. “nothing”
you clenched your jaw subconsciously, a small movement that your boyfriend didn’t miss. he closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself, allowing a small but compassionate smile to appear on his lips.
“it’s okay. tell me,” he whispered, his free hand reaching out to grab yours.
“i’m fine,” you muttered again as your boyfriend intertwined your fingers, tugging softly at your hand.
“talk to me,” iwaizumi urged again.
“i said i’m fine,” you insisted, your voice however not sounding as convinced as you wanted it to be.
swallowing thickly, he looked down at his hand, fingers softly grazing your thigh. “i heard that,” he says as he looked up, tilting his head as he carefully examined your facial expression. “but i know you’re not”
in return you turned your head completely away from him, muttering at him. “shut up”
skillfully ignoring your words, iwaizumi stood up from the chair and sat down right next to you, his shoulder touching yours. “listen, i know you’re not okay. that’s alright,” he whispered with a low, but warm sounding voice. he stopped for a moment, swallowing down the small lump in his throat. “love, let me be here for you”
he expected many reactions.
iwaizumi saw you shut down completely, going nonverbal for who knows how long. he could see you try to change the topic, ignoring whatever he said until he allowed you to shift the conversation. and he saw you open up to him, confiding in him and revealing whatever was plaguing your mind right now.
“i said shut up!” however, your boyfriend didn't see you get up so quickly, stepping away from him and raising your weak voice. he wouldn't have imagine you to - literally - turn your back on him, your hands clanching on your sides.
and yet for a brief moment, he was able to catch a glimpse of your face. his blood ran cold when he saw your painful expression, like you were about to start crying. he could see your form trembling and heard you breathe so heavily.
his lips pressed together, iwaizumi took a couple of seconds to himself. he knew he couldn't press the topic like this further. he had been so caught up in trying to figure out just what made you so unresponsive to him that he seemed to have forgotten the bigger picture of things.
you were chronically ill, your health seeming to worsen every day, the "good days" a rarity by now. you were in hospice for heaven's sake, all while everybody elses' lives seemed to go on just fine. friends, family, partner; everybody was able to live their normal life, while you were stuck in a facility to be taken care of; all while teh dream you had followed your whole life was to take care of others.
to give something back.
and now you literally couldn't do this anymore.
taking a deep breath, he took a moment to regulate himself, before softly saying your name. “look, okay, i’m not forcing you to talk to me,” he began slowly, “and please don’t yell at me when all i’m trying to do is be there for you”
“i’m sorry,” you whispered back, dropping your head in shame and slowly turning around. while you might still not look at him and nervously played with your hands, he couldn't help but feel relieved when you at least let your body turn back to him.
nodding slowly, iwaizumi reached out to you and you didn't even hesitate to grab his hand. he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. “i know you are, love” the two of you relished in uncertain silence for a few moments before he decided to speak up again. “do you want me to go?” he asked in a hushed voide. when you looked at him with wide and concerned eyes, you saw the compassionate look on his face, allowing you to breathe out calmly.
whatever you would say, he would be okay with it.
“no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “i don’t want to be alone”
your boyfriend couldn't help but feel relieved, his smile widening ever so slightly. “okay” he tugged softly at your hand. “come here”
almost like on auto-pilot you obeyed his command, not coming to a stop until your stood right at the edge of the bed, your knees touching the mattress.
“we don’t have to talk,” he muttered, drawing circles with his thumb on the back of your hands, before he raised his head again, looking at you. “but i’m here” you nodded, subconsciously biting your inner cheek. “don’t try to push me away. you know i won’t let you”
slowly your vision grew hazy, tears filling your eyes. you couldn't help but to clench them shut, your fingers tightening around iwaizumi's with every shaky breath you took.
he didn't rush you. he simply sat there, his eyes on you as he continued to caress your hands with his thumb, no matter how tight your grip got.
after you let out a shaken, but calming breath, you finally managed to find some words. “i don’t want to die, hajime,” you whispered. “i don’t want to die. i’m so scared”
iwaizumi didn't even notice that his jaw clenched as did his fingers around yours with every word you spoke. "and i don't know what to do anymore. i can't sleep, i can't eat, i can't even get dressed myself. i need someone to be near me when i'm just showering, because sometimes i can't even stay on my feet for long enough"
"i'm going to die, no, i am dying! and there's nothing i can do about it. nothing is working, nothing is helping" your knees buckled underneath you, making you stumble and ultimately fall. thankfully, your boyfriend had his arms securely around you, pulling you into his lap.
"i don't want to die," you managed to choke out as you pressed your face in his chest, letting your weak body be cradled by him.
iwaizumi desperately wanted to say something. offer comfort, be there for his partner. his heart ached seeing them like this, crying in his arms so helplessly. clenching his own eyes shut, iwaizumi swallowed thickly.
was there even anything he could say?
“you’re not going to die” the words sounded hollow, like they had no meaning.
like he didn’t believe them himself.
“you’re going to stay right here with me,” he muttered into your hair, “and you’re not going anywhere”
iwaizumi waited to believe everything he said. he wanted to picture a future with you by his side, more energetic, positive, healthy.
or at least not stuck in here.
at night he dreamed of a time where the two of you would grow closer every day, move in together, maybe even get married. he yearned for many more happy memories with you.
but he felt like this dream wouldn’t become reality.
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evanescent
/ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/ — “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.”
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jessejaredstories · 1 year ago
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One Last Adventure
“Did you find anyone yet?”
“Not yet babe, I’m still looking.”
I flipped through the pages of my old high school yearbook while my boyfriend Jack was pacing around our bedroom. He was supposed to be searching through Grindr and Tinder for potential targets, but I knew he was getting frustrated and decided not to push it. My boyfriend has always been the impatient type, but I could understand why he was getting extra antsy tonight. 
About a month ago, my boyfriend and I made a deal with a witch. In exchange for five years off of each of our lifespans, the witch would grant us the supernatural ability to take over other people’s bodies. As you can imagine, Jack and I have been generously using our new powers ever since we got them. We’ve been using them to do whatever we want as whoever we want! Getting easy access to anything we want, getting payback on anyone who’s wronged us, and probably the most fun, fucking as whoever we want. Pretty sweet ability right? 
But of course, an extraordinary power like this doesn’t come without its cost. On top of paying the witch with literal years off of our lives, there were also two conditions we needed to follow. The first condition was the time limit. We got exactly 30 days before our powers expire. Once time’s up, that’s it. No more body hopping fun. The second condition was more of a restriction than anything else. The witch said that we couldn’t just take over anyone’s body. We could only choose people both Jack and I have met in-person before. That condition really limited our options, but even so, that didn’t stop us from having as much fun as possible. 
“Hey, what about these two?” I handed Jack the yearbook with an open page. Unfortunately though, it took him less than a second to shake his head no.
“No good. I knew them but I never actually met them.”
I sighed as I took back the yearbook. Not gonna lie, I was starting to get frustrated too. We just couldn’t find any new bodies to possess! Normally, we wouldn’t get so worked over it, but tonight was different. It was our last day before our powers expired for good. Obviously we couldn’t just let our powers die out without one last body hopping escapade! But after hours of searching, it was not looking good for us…
Or so I thought. I started half-assedly looking through all the faces of our former high school classmates. It was then that two faces stuck out to me. Akshay Khan and Kabir Patel. 
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“How about these two? Remember them? The Indian bros?” I asked Jack.
“Oh yeah, I remember them. Can’t say I remember much though,”
“Neither can I.”
Akshay and Kabir were known for being inseparable best friends, but that was it really. They never got involved in any school activities. That’s why they each only had one photo in the yearbook. Easy to miss, but they were still an option nonetheless. 
“C’mon, let’s check out what they’ve been up to,” I said as I pulled out my phone. 
Jack joined me on the couch. He laid against me as I typed in Akshay’s name. Luckily that was all I needed to get a hit on Instagram. His profile came up and surely enough, it was him. He had recently posted on his story too. I clicked on it and up came a picture of him and Kabir working out at some gym together.
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“Whoa, they’ve really glowed up since high school. The gym’s been kind to them!” Jack let out a fox whistle when he saw the picture. I turned my head slightly to watch him checking out the goods. I could tell by the hungry look in his eyes that we just found our next targets.
“What do you say bro?” I said while lowering my voice. “You down to hit the showers after we hit this last set?” I caught Jack off guard with my bad Akshay impression, but he caught on right away. We exchanged a knowing look, then proceeded to get ready for the takeover. 
We both laid down on the ground and took deep breaths. We had body possession down to a science with how many times we’ve done it. All that was left to do was to go through steps again. I cleared my mind of all thoughts then I focused on imagining my soul leaving my body, all while maintaining my breathing. Soon enough, I could feel myself becoming lighter as my soul left my physical body. Once I was no longer a slave to the laws of physics, I flew straight to the gym where Akshay and Kabir were. They made the big mistake of tagging their location on social media, which made Jack and I’s job a whole lot easier! 
Thanks to my spirit form, I made it to their location within minutes. I phased through the walls and looked around for the bros. The gym was pretty empty that night for some reason. After some searching, I found Akshay in the locker room area checking himself out in the mirror. He was by himself in there. I crept up behind him, ready to strike while he was distracted! 
“Nrghh… What the fuck?” Akshay exclaimed. He hunched over while holding his stomach. I hesitated jumping into him, then abandoned the idea altogether when I realized what was happening. Jack had beaten me to the punch, he had already begun possessing Akshay.
I decided to stay back a moment and watch as my boyfriend possessed the gym rat. Akshay was groaning loudly. He tried keeping his balance but ended up falling to the ground on all fours. Sweat beads were forming on his face as he began breathing heavily. He then swung his head back with his mouth wide open. I could see his eyes roll back to the back of his head until I only saw the veiny whites of his eyeballs. Akshay then let out a loud, eerie groan. His cheeks and chest puffed up as Jack's soul slithered down his throat. I could see Akshay's Adam's apple bob up and down too! This lasted for a few seconds, then Akshay swallowed the last of Jack's essence in one final gulp. Once it was done, Akshay's eyes went back to normal and he stood up with a cocky grin on his face. 
"Ahh yeahhh... That's the good stuff..." Akshay said while caressing his massive pecs and rock hard abs. Except I knew that wasn't Akshay anymore, that was my loving boyfriend checking out his new body in the mirror. 
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I watched as my boyfriend admired his newly obtained muscles in front of the mirror. I couldn't help but smile as Jack flexed his cannons for arms and made his pecs pop. To be honest, I was slightly jealous of him. Akshay was jacked! I wanted to have that body for myself, but no matter, there was still another body up for grabs anyway. 
I turned around and began searching for Kabir. I looked throughout the gym and eventually found him near the dumbbells. Kabir was busy putting some weights back on the rack. He wasn't perfectly alone like Akshay was, but the sight of his plump butt sticking out as he was bent over was too tempting to ignore. I just had to take the risk and dive right in! 
I steadied my aim first and then charged in as fast as I could. Thanks to my spirit form, I was able to phase right through his gym shorts and go straight into his asshole. 
"Ow!! What the fuck!?" Kabir yelped out, presumably from me penetrating him by surprise. The impact of me entering him made Kabir fall onto the ground on his stomach. He grabbed onto his ass cheeks while squirming around on the ground. Unfortunately I wasn't able to possess him in one smooth motion, but it didn't matter. I was already halfway in, and there was nothing Kabir could do to stop a pro like me.
I started wiggling my way up his ass. The deeper I went inside him, the more I could feel through his body as the body takeover process started. 
"Aaargh fuckk!! Ahh!!" 
Kabir was moaning and thrashing around like a madman! I couldn't blame him though, I could feel the stimulation I was giving him by entering through his ass. I bet I was hitting all the right pleasure spots as I slithered up him! 
"Mmmm... yeahh that's the spot..." I purred using Kabir's voice. I was in full control now, and hearing his accent come out of my mouth was making me hard! I stood up and brushed off any dirt on me. I took a moment to admire my newly possessed body. Jack might have gotten the more muscular body, but Kabir was taller and with a well-toned physique too. He was hot— No, I was hot! 
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“Hey bro, you good?” 
I felt a hand pat me on the shoulder. Shit! Someone must’ve spotted Kabir thrashing around on the floor! I slowly turned around, but thankfully my worries were for nothing. It was just Jack.
“Yeah man, I’m chilling, all good here,” I answered. Jack shook his head. 
“You sure, Kabir? Looked like you had a pretty ass cramp just now… You don’t need a massage to help ease the pain?”
Getting called “Kabir” threw me off for a moment. Although I quickly caught on when I saw “Akshay” wink at me.
“Actually, you’re right, I could use a massage right now! Think you can lend me a hand bro?” I replied with a smirk. Akshay returned my gesture with a grin. It was moments like this that made me love taking over other people’s bodies with my boyfriend. Nobody but us knew that these two gym rats just got possessed by two other men, and that secret just made it even more fun.
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Akshay and I wasted no time in getting to the locker rooms. Luckily for us, there was still nobody back there. We took off our clothes and hopped into one of the shower stalls together. Akshay turned on the water, and then proceeded to pin me to the wall behind me. He planted a big fat kiss on my lips. It was aggressive, but I loved it! 
We made out in the stall with our tongues fighting for dominance while the running water helped cover up our loud kisses and moans. Naturally, our dicks got hard while we kissed. I could feel Akshay’s dick rub against me as we pressed and interlocked our wet bodies against one another. It was strange. Normally when we possess straight men, we could feel their dormant souls try to resist against us having fun with their bodies. I expected Kabir and Akshay to do the same, but they never did! It was almost as if their bodies were enthusiastic about us having our fun. Perhaps, they’ve already done what we were doing?
Whatever. It doesn’t matter. All that mattered was that Akshay had a hand around my neck, choking me while keeping me pressed against the shower wall. I opened my mouth and Akshay spit in my mouth. I swallowed it like a good boy, then I jumped onto Akshay. He held me up while we resumed kissing. Then, while our lips were locked together, he began to lower me down onto his cock. I could feel his dick tap against my hole, then it slid right in.
“OHH FUCKK!!!” I couldn’t hold back my moans. The pleasure of having Akshay’s whole length inside me… My hole expanding to accommodate his girth was too much to hold back!
“You like that? You want this big, brown cock inside you?”
“Fuck yeah! Fuck me!!” 
“Beg for it then.” He started teasing me by thrusting himself into me slowly. 
“Please bro! Please fuck me hard!! I want you… I need you… Arghh!!”
Akshay started picking up the pace of his thrusts. I thought I saw stars with every deep stroke he gave me. We were probably making a lot of noise between my moans and his grunts, but we didn’t care. We fucked like animals with our new jock bodies and we weren’t ashamed of it! 
It only took us another few minutes of fucking before we were both close. Akshay pulled out and let me down to the ground. We then started tugging our dicks together until we covered both ourselves and the shower stall with our cum. We were both panting as we shot load after load of our sweet spunk out. We then made out again one last time while we were still covered with each other’s cum before the shower washed it away. It was hot, and it was definitely the last body hopping adventure we needed before our powers expired for good. 
Once we finished having our fun, Jack and I were ready to leave. We never bothered cleaning up, we just depossessed the bodies and let them take care of it. Jack and I shared one last loving look as Akshay and Kabir before leaving. However, when we tried forcing our souls out of their bodies, we couldn’t! No matter how hard or how much we tried, we just couldn’t leave! We ended up having to clean up after ourselves for once. We did that quickly, then got dressed and left the gym as fast as we could. We had no idea what was going on! But then I caught a glimpse of the time. It was already 1:30AM! It was already the next day! It was supposed to be a quickie, but I guess Jack and I got a little carried away…
All this happened two years ago. We’ve been living as Akshay and Kabir ever since then. Even to this day, neither of us know what could’ve happened that we’d end up trapped in these bodies. If I had to take a guess, I’d wager that when the witch said that our powers would expire permanently, she meant it way more seriously than Jack and I expected. Without those powers, we couldn’t even return to our original bodies! I don’t know, but honestly, I don’t care anymore. If anything, we’ve been blessed to have Akshay and Kabir’s lives as our own. Sure, Akshay’s new family is super traditional and they’re already setting him up for a bride, but that doesn’t matter to us. We still meet up in secret when nobody’s around. No matter who we are, we are lovers and nothing will ever take that away from us. 
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We’re not sure how exactly we’re gonna get past an arranged family, but as long as Akshay is by my side, we can overcome anything.
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