#sometimes I wonder if I should just keep everyone away from actually getting close to me so that I don’t end up alone

[saintarmand]

What did you think of Armand’s confrontation with Claudia? I’m not really sold on the idea that Armand displays startling cruelty in that moment — he’s definitely not nice, and it’s obviously a callback to how both Lestat and Louis have physically assaulted Claudia, and how she’s permanently trapped in this cycle of being at the mercy of powerful men who abuse or mistreat her. Like, he’s the coven master, Santiago has previously stated that Armand turns vampires into corpses for almost nothing, but ultimately, he’s the coven master, with the power of life and death over his flock, so his word is law. So when I think about Armand’s actions within “coven logic” it doesn’t really seem like individualized cruelty, more like justifiable annoyance (within coven logic) at the disobedience and insolence of a new, ungrateful coven member. Outside of coven logic, it’s abusive and cruel, but within the warped logic of the coven, it seems pretty ordinary to me. I guess I’m asking because I’ve seen lots of people post about the contrast between Armand’s vulnerability with Louis followed by his immediate cruelty to the coven, but I think it makes perfect sense. When Armand’s with Louis he’s being an individual, when he’s with the coven he’s being the coven master. Like, within Claudia’s story it’s definitely a continuance of the shitty, abusive cycle she’s stuck in, but within Armand’s role as the coven master it just seems like a regular Tuesday. Does that make sense?

yeah i'm not convinced he's singling her out specifically but i'm reserving judgment on that until the end of the season, since there's definitely stuff we're not privy to yet.

i think armand probably thinks he's been letting her (and everyone) get away with too much bc of louis and is now 'correcting' that. he was criticized by the coven throughout the episode for not being present enough and everyone doing shit they're not supposed to. so now he's going back to ruthless coven master mode to try to prevent the mutiny that's brewing.

i think it's also in response to the vulnerability he displayed to louis immediately prior; that shit was scary, and afterwards he probably wanted to feel powerful and in control again. he was also interrupted by the coven in that moment, them getting in the way of his time with louis, so he was pissed off at them all in general and the 'issue' that was reported was claudia so he lashed out at her.

i also don't think the play was written to torment her; i think the coven was just excited to have a 'child actress' and didn't consider how she might feel about it at all. they don't know what it's like for her and didn't think to wonder. the casual cruelty of thoughtlessness. we don't know the extent of armand's involvement with picking that role for her so it's difficult to say if he did it on purpose in any way. but his whole thing is doing whatever is 'required' of him regardless of how painful or humiliating, and that's what he expects from everyone else too. a horrible way to live and a horrible thing to subject others to, but that's armand for you.

insane how he actually acknowledged the cycle of abuse in this episode ("magnus who begat lestat, lestat begat louis, and on and on and on") and then immediately proceeded to go make sure it keeps on cycling. man got SO CLOSE to a major revelation but then it got interrupted i guess.

in TVL, lestat talks about the contrast between the 'lost child' and the 'coven master' in armand and they are two sides of him but they're also intrinsically linked. the vulnerability and the cruelty follow from each other. coven logic IS armand logic. it's all he knows. he's the victim and the perpetrator. he knows both sides intimately, and he believes this is just how it is, how it has to be, so suck it up. "life is cruel, life is violent." for him, it always has been. he skirts the rules sometimes because he can but he clearly also believes they should apply to him too. he almost killed louis for it. he keeps curfew. "know your role, thesp, or join your maker in oblivion", he says to santiago, but isn't he talking to himself too? he was ordered to lead the paris coven nearly 400 years ago and he hasn't been fulfilling his duties lately. he tells louis to think about leaving paris but leaving the coven himself is almost unthinkable to him. almost.

um, i got sidetracked, but basically yeah i think armand's assault of claudia, as cruel and horrifying and abusive and traumatizing it is for her, is him going back to regular tuesday as coven master. it's an emotionally motivated action but not, in my opinion, designed to single her out specifically as a rival for louis's affections or whatever. at least based on the information we have now, but there may be revelations to come in the latter half of the season that change my mind. or i might change my mind because i rewatch the episode for the fifth time or read really good post arguing the opposite lol.

anyway. SAVE CLAUDIA HOLY SHIT

[confier-boyfriend]

Boy yearning is canceled I am go to go cry about the fact I’ll never have a boyfriend or a husband.

[steddiealltheway]

(I have just hit a very nice (silly) milestone of 6969 followers, so I wrote this little ficlet to celebrate and thank you all for always being so supportive 💛 I hope you enjoy)

Everyone is shocked when Steve and Eddie announce they’re moving in together.

But, to Steve, it’s really a no-brainer. Robin is going away to college, the kids are starting to get their licenses and no longer need a babysitter, and Eddie desperately wants to get out of Hawkins.

So, Steve bought a map, measured the distance between Hawkins and Robin’s college, and marked a spot right in the middle.

Okay, so maybe it ended up being in the middle of a river, but there was a town near there that was perfectly not too far from Hawkins while being far away enough for Eddie to feel safe. As well as being far enough from Robin to give her space at her new school while being close enough that she could easily spend the night at their place whenever she wanted.

But distance wasn’t a problem for anyone, they were mainly concerned about how Steve and Eddie would live with each other and not kill each other.

But after a few weeks, Steve can confidently say that living with Eddie is… nice actually.

Really really nice.

Of course, he had been a little concerned about all their differences and adjusting to having someone always around, but Steve enjoys the company.

Actually, he specifically enjoys Eddie’s company.

Sure, he can be loud and a bit messy, but Steve loves that their small apartment actually feels like a home.

Whenever Robin stops by, she comments about how domestic they’re getting. Especially whenever Eddie randomly appears with a cup of water not even seconds after Steve mentions he was getting thirsty.

But what Steve fails to mention to Robin are all the little other things Eddie does, like when it’s late at night and Eddie brushes the hair off of Steve’s forehead and says, “It’s a little late for me to see those beautiful eyes still open."

Sometimes when they're watching a movie, Steve will fall asleep and wake up to Eddie carrying him to bed as if it's an easy thing to do.

And yeah, maybe Steve finds it overwhelmingly hot, and maybe he clings a little tighter whenever Eddie tries to put him down so they're stuck in a tight embrace that Steve can wave off as a result of being half asleep.

But sometimes Eddie's eyes linger on Steve a little longer than they should or Eddie will throw his arm over the back of the couch and let his fingertips lightly trace over Steve's shoulder or run through his hair gently as if he doesn't even notice himself doing it. And it makes Steve think that maybe, just maybe, Eddie might have feelings for him too.

But just when things are going great, and Steve is thinking about testing the boundaries of their friendship to push more into romantic territory, Eddie starts fucking with him.

The problem is, it's not anything big or obvious that Steve can just laugh off. Instead, Eddie starts messing with the thermostat. The thermostat Steve likes to keep strictly at 71.

But Eddie has decided to set it to 69.

At first, Steve just adjusts it, wondering why Eddie is bumping it down when he's always cold and wraps himself in a blanket, complaining that 71 is too cold.

After two days of back and forth, Steve wonders if the thing is just broken because he hasn't actually seen Eddie mess with it. So, he wanders to Eddie's room and knocks on the door lightly before opening it.

Eddie lays back on his bed with a smirk on his face that instantly alerts Steve that Eddie has in fact been messing with him.

He crosses his arms and leans against the doorway. "Have you been messing with the thermostat?"

Eddie shrugs and comments, "Maybe."

Steve frowns, not sure what the hell kind of game Eddie's playing at. "Well, can you maybe leave it at seventy-one?"

"And if I don't?" Eddie challenges, cocking his head to the side, "What are you going to do about it?"

"Change it back to seventy-one," Steve replies easily. He feels like he's missing something when Eddie's face falters a bit, but he hopes it's just him getting the message to not mess with it. And just in case he doesn't get it, he shuts the door a little more firmly than usual.

Only, two days later, Steve happens to notice that the thermostat is set to 69 again. He scowls and presses the button twice before going off to Eddie's room and knocking on the door again a little harder than usual, wondering why Eddie is trying to mess with him after they had been having such a nice day.

"Come in!" Eddie chirps.

Steve swings the door open and rests his hands on his hips. "You changed it again."

Eddie shrugs and leans back on his bed looking overly comfortable. "Just setting the mood."

"Yeah, you've set the mood, and you set it to annoyed. Stop changing it," Steve says as he starts to close the door. He stops as it's about to close and peaks his head back in. "Please."

With that, he thinks he's done with the whole thing. And after a few days pass, he's pretty much forgotten about the whole incident.

That is, until Robin comes to visit and suddenly asks, "Does it feel slightly colder in here to you?"

Steve groans and walks over to the thermostat, seeing the number 69 staring back at him. He's not sure when Eddie changed it, but he's not even currently there so Steve can yell at him. Instead, he just complains to Robin, "Eddie's been fucking with me and changing the thermostat."

Robin snorts. "Isn't he like perpetually cold all the time?"

"Yes! Which is why I'm so confused about him keeping it at sixty-nine all the time."

Robin pauses and glances over at Steve. "What is he keeping it at?"

"Sixty-nine."

Robin just cackles in response, and Steve glares at her asking, "What?"

"Sixty-nine!" Robin laughs again.

"Real mature, Robin," Steve says, rolling his eyes before the realization hits him. "Oh, Christ."

Robin only laughs harder, but Steve is stuck on the other conversations he had with Eddie which were... definitely miscommunications. Oh god, was Eddie trying to... proposition him?

Robin's laughter dies down enough for her to ask, "What's wrong?"

Steve gives her a look and sits down on the couch next to her, further realizing the thermostat incidents happened after days when the two of them got a little more... friendly than usual.

Steve sighs and explains the entire situation including the things he's left out before including his feelings for Eddie. He's glad that Robin holds in her laughter until after he's done.

"Stop laughing, it's not funny."

Robin manages to say through her laughter, "You both are disasters. But you're both so gone on each other that it's almost a little disgusting." She then stands up and grabs her bag, walking toward the front door.

"Where are you going?" Steve asks, following her.

Robin turns around and gives Steve a look. "I'm leaving before Eddie gets back and you two..." she gestures toward the thermostat.

Steve groans, "Get out, Buckley." He can't help but smile before he pulls her into a hug and digs some money out of his wallet.

"What's this?" Robin asks.

"Gas money for sending you away early."

Robin smiles and salutes him. "I guess this means I'll be coming back tomorrow."

"I'll call in case we're still-"

"Gross, dingus," Robin says with a laugh before she hugs him one more time and whispers, "Thank you for telling me."

Steve just squeezes her a little tighter.

After she leaves, Steve takes a minute to form a plan before Eddie gets back from whatever store he went to. He looks at the thermostat and sets it back to 71 degrees while he tries to think.

Unfortunately, he doesn't get far in his thinking before the front door unlocks and Eddie walks in with a few grocery bags in hand.

Steve just turns around and tries not to look too startled by Eddie's sudden appearance.

Eddie gives him a confused look and gestures outside. "Did I just see Robin leave?"

Steve nods but gives no further explanation, stuck on how the hell he's supposed to approach this subject with Eddie. God, now he understands the thermostat method.

"You okay?" Eddie asks before his eyes settle on the thermostat. "Oh, shit. Sorry, I did that late last night. Can we just forget that that happened? It was... dumb really."

Instead of forgetting it, Steve dramatically reaches up and hits the down button twice. "I think I finally get it." Eddie's eyes widen as Steve crosses his arms and continues, "Setting the mood, right? Or, tell me, what are you going to do about it?"

Eddie looks at him for a second then suddenly drops all the bags in his hands, practically racing down the hallway to Steve and cupping his face in his hands. "Am I reading this right?"

Steve slowly glances at the thermostat. "Well, it does say sixty-nine."

Eddie huffs out a laugh but quickly clarifies, "I don't just want that. I mean... I like you. And I just couldn't think of a good way to bring that up without it being some type of joke. Not that liking you is a joke, but oh god-"

"Eddie," Steve says firmly, stopping his rambling. "I like you, too."

Eddie's face lights up. "Yeah?"

Steve nods as his hands come up to Eddie's waist and pull him in a little closer.

"You like me enough to sixty-"

"Oh, shut up," Steve says with a big smile.

"Make me," Eddie replies, giving Steve an exaggerated wink.

Steve shakes his head and sighs before pulling Eddie into a sweet kiss, both of them smiling too much to make it anything more than a peck. When they pull away, Steve thinks he might murder Eddie when he whispers, "Nice."

But he wouldn't have it any other way.

[chaussetteblanche]

Hi ! So I just loved your Luke castellan’s stories and I was wondering if you could write a story with him starting to date a child of Athena (the reader) but she wants to keep their relationship secret because she’s afraid Annabeth would get mad at her for « stealing » her hero away. Reader and Luke get caught by Annabeth whose reaction is « Finally » as she’s seen the two of them pinning on each other for years. It would be great if it was fluffy.

Sorry for the long request and thank you for your work ! It’s amazing !

hi baby, thanks so much for requesting! this was really fun to write :) hope you like it <3

Finally

pairing : luke castellan x child of athena!reader summary : two times your relationship with luke is almost revealed and the one time when it is word count : 2.6k warnings : none

"W-wait, no, Luke, we can't." Luke froze immediately, his eyes searching yours for the reasoning behind your words. You licked your lips and leaned your head back against the wood of the cabin he had pressed you up against, letting out a small sigh. His hands were on your waist, your skin was fire underneath. You could feel his warm breath against your lips. Your hands were on his shoulders, your fingers fiddling with the string around his neck. You two had never been so close before in a context which was not sparring. And he'd been about to finally kiss you but you'd stopped him.

"I- it's just with Annabeth, y'know? I don't want her to feel like I'm stealing her away from you or anything." You worried your bottom lip, looking up at him sheepishly. His brows raised in comprehension and he nodded slowly, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your sides. "Yeah, I get it. I understand why you feel that way, but also, what I feel for you is very different than what I feel for Annabeth. I think that would be clear to pretty much anyone, love. And she's smart, she'll understand, don't you think?"

You kept quiet, still nibbling on your bottom lip, your eyes trained to the colourful beads around his throat. "Baby, if you bite your lip one more time, I'm going to do it for you," Luke warned in a low voice. You looked up at him as he pulled your bottom lip out from between your teeth with his thumb. He kept his finger there for a moment before pulling it away. Yeah, this isn't going to work for me, you thought. You couldn't imagine yourself not kissing him. Not when you'd been like this, not after the years of tension and wondering and worrying which had led up to this moment.

"How 'bout we just keep it secret?" you suggested, hands trailing down his front before stopping at his waist. You lightly fisted the material of his T-shirt, using it to slowly pull him closer. "What, us?" he whispered huskily. "Yeah." "You know what?" he chuckled, "I'll take it."

He wasted no time in capturing your lips with his, pushing himself flush against you. You let out a breath as you kissed him, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

"God, I've been wanting to do that for ages," he groaned against your lips. Your hand tangled itself in his hair as you tilted your head to the side. "Shut up and kiss me, Castellan."

And so you kept your relationship hidden from everyone. No one could know. You both knew Annabeth well, her being your actual half-sister and like Luke's little sister, so you knew that if anyone got the gist of what was happening between the two of you, she'd know. She would find a way to know. She always did.

So you were careful. You knew how much your half-sister admired and respected Luke the last thing you wanted was to take that away from her. She'd been through a lot, more than she should have ever gone through, and you knew having Luke as an older-brother-figure was very important and healthy for her.

At first, you allowed yourselves nothing more than knowing glances across crowds or rooms. Lovesick smiles and faint blushes. Maybe a hand brushing against another when you crossed each other. Sometimes, Luke's hand on high up on your thigh underneath the table. But despite this caution you both took very seriously, you had almost gotten caught a few times.

The first time had been entirely Luke's fault. You'd been teaching a new camper, Nate, how to use a spear. You were just as good at Clarisse, if not better, at wielding the weapon, it being your mother's go-to choice. The sun was getting low and painting everything gold, showing just how much time you two had been training for.

"Yeah, that's good. Do it again." You instructed as you walked around Nate in a circle. He was repeating the stabbing and slashing movement, though he seemed a bit distracted as he kept looking past you. You turned around to see Luke leaning against a pillar a few meters away, eyeing you. Your stomach flipped and you beamed, sending a warm wave his way. He returned the smile and the wave.

You turned back to your student, leaning against your spear. You suddenly felt eager to call the training session to an end. "Nate, I think we've done enough for today, yeah? We can continue tomorrow afternoon." "Whatever you say, doll."

Luke watched from his spot as Nate helped you undo your breastplate, his brows raising. Oh. He observed closely when the boy pressed a hand to the small of your back to direct you out of the training ring, lowering his head closer to yours to hear what you were saying. The child of Hermes was positively fuming by the time you both reached him.

You sped up the pace to give him a quick hug of greeting. "Hi, Luke!" you greeted cheerily, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Hey, baby," he spoke into your hair as he returned the embrace tightly. He kept you under his arm even after you pulled away. If you noticed his unusual behaviour, you didn't mention it. "Hey, man." Nate greeted with a grin, his eyes trained on you. Luke set his jaw. "Hey," he spoke icily. You frowned, Luke was never this cold with anyone. You sent him a confused look but he just kept staring at Nate. A short moment of awkward silence passed before Nate inhaled sharply. "Well, I'll be off, then. Y/N, I'll see you at dinner?" he asked, looking expectantly at you. Luke answered before you could. "Probably not, man." "Oh... uh, okay. See you both 'round, then." Nate nodded towards the both of you before walking off, head bowed and hands buried deep inside his pockets.

You pulled away from Luke, looking up into his face with furrowed brows. "What was that?" you asked, your head tilted to the side. "What was what?" Luke shrugged innocently. "That!" You pointed at Nate's retreating form, scoffing. "You're never so blatantly cold! Not to mention rude!" Luke raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I don't like his vibe." "You-" you let out a disbelieving laugh. "You don't like his vibe? C'mon Luke-" "I didn't like the way he was with you."

"What do you mean? He was-" You were interrupted by Luke. He folded his arms over his chest. "Touching you, unnecessarily. The hand to your back. And he undid your breastplate, Y/N." "So? You do that too... oh." You shut your mouth as you came to the realisation that maybe, just maybe, Nate had been hinting at something other than friendship with you. "Yeah. Oh." Luke scoffed icily. You frowned and touched his arm. "Luke, baby, there's nothing to be upset about. We're just friends." "Yeah, but does he know that? I'm not worried about you, love."

You nodded and passed your arm through his. You started walking back to where you would have dinner. "Look, forget about him, alright? Let's go to dinner, 'm starving." "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry for acting-" "Jealous?" you interrupted with a small laugh. Luke stopped in his tracks, a dramatic hand splayed over his heart. "Me? Jealous?" he gasped, shock written all over his features. He thought for a second and then shrugged. "Maybe a bit, yeah."

The second time you'd almost gotten caught had been pretty much your fault. Luke had been wounded in capture the flag. It had been nothing too serious, merely a superficial wound, but he'd still been brought into the infirmary. You, having been on the opposite team and at the other end of the forest, were part of the last campers informed.

You'd heard the first three words : "Luke was hurt..." before you'd totally lost it. Cursing loudly, you immediately bolted in the infirmary's direction. You had never run as fast in your life as you did that day. Mere seconds went by before you skidded to a halt right outside the infirmary, where three quarters of the camp was hanging around. You cursed Luke's popularity and the campers' curiosity as you pushed your way through the crowd.

"Excuse me... sorry, sorry... could you move please?" Your patience was wearing very thin by the time you got to the door separating Luke and the rest of the world. Your hand was on the handle, hear hammering inside your eardrums when you were stopped. "He's not taking any visitors at the moment." You recognised the daughter of Apollo but couldn't be bothered for pleasantries. "He'll take me," you replied strongly, twisting the door handle. The girl let out a small huff and placed a hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. You felt your blood starting to boil. "Look, he just got stabbed, give him a bit of space to breathe, okay?" You harshly pulled her hand off your shoulder and ignored her indignant look. "Honey, I'm going in and you're not going to stop me." You raised yourself to your full height and glowered down at her. It was times like these when you were grateful for your godly parent's mightiness and for your own reputation. She swallowed before shaking her head. "Hey, don't make me call-" "HE'S MY-" you lowered your voice, which had gotten surprisingly loud, and cleared your throat. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You had almost blown your cover. You recovered. "Step aside," you sneered, "now."

The girl finally seemed to get the message and stepped to the side, lips curled in a grimace. You ignored her and darted inside the room. You saw Luke and gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth. His waist was wrapped in bandages and he looked awfully pale. "Oh my gods, Luke," you cried, feeling your legs get weak at the sight. "It looks worse than it is, I promise, love," he assured. You sat down on the side of his bed, looking him over, subconsciously checking for any more injuries. When you found none, you took his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers.

"Did they take care of it correctly?" "Yes, baby." "They gave you stitches?" "Yeah, four." "And they wrapped it tight enough?" "Yes, baby." "And-" "Baby, look at me." Luke's warm palm pressed against your cheek, guiding your face to look at him. "I'm fine. I'm okay. It was an accident. I'll be okay. It's just another scar."

You inhaled deeply, nodding slowly. You quickly wiped your eyes. You'd been so scared, you had immediately imagined the worst. But he was okay, he was here, with you, alive and well. "I almost hit the girl outside, she didn't want to let me in," you chuckled wetly. Luke cooed and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. "Baby, don't cry. I'm okay, I promise." He sat up with a wince and pressed a short kiss to your lips. "And I forbid you to get into fights over me." You chuckled dryly. He had no idea. You'd get into fights with literal gods over him without a second thought. "Now," you ran your thumb over his knuckles, "tell me who did this to you."

The third time you almost got caught, well, you actually did get caught. And this time, though Luke would argue the contrary, it was totally, entirely and unarguably his fault. Really.

"Hey." A smile made its way onto your face at the sound of that voice you knew so well. You and some other campers were sitting around a fire, chatting and laughing. You turned around to see Luke and immediately opened your arms to hug him. He chuckled and bent down to hug you. He brushed his lips against your neck as he did so and you shivered. He sat down next to you, your thighs pressing against each other.

"Haven't seen you all day, love." He spoke quietly as he looked down into your eyes. You huffed and ran a heavy hand over your face. Luke tilted his head to the side. "I know," you groaned, "Mr. D has me doing all these stupid chores because I said something about Coke being a poor dietary choice or something. And apparently he took that personally." Luke couldn't help letting a chuckle slip. You gasped.

"Are you laughing at my demise, Castellan?" you asked, feigning an indignant look. He laughed, pressing a hand against your knee. "You have to admit, it's kinda funny." "Me shovelling pegasus poop because I said that edulcorants and aspartame are not good for your health is not funny!" He snorted a cute laugh and you had trouble keeping a straight face. You lightly hit his chest. "Screw you, Castellan."

His hand came up to keep yours pressed against his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly. "Yes, please." Your eyes snapped up to his and heat rushed to your cheeks. You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. "Shut up."

A few moments later, Luke and you had bid the other campers good night and started heading for the cabins. It was dark, so you and Luke allowed yourselves to hold hands. "I miss you, y'know," Luke spoke softly. "What d'you mean? You see me every day." You cocked your head to the side, looking up at his moonlit face, his scar being made more apparent by the white light. You thought he looked beautiful. "Yeah, but we don't get many moments to ourselves these days, there's always other people around and... I dunno, I guess I'm kinda tired of the whole 'keeping this a secret thing'..."

"Luke, baby, y'know I would love to not keep it a secret, but-" "Yeah, I know, baby, I'm just being fussy, I'm sorry." He stopped in front of the Athena cabin, turning to stand in front of you. "No, don't apologise, because I'm the one who-" You were interrupted by his lips on yours. Warm, soft and your favourite taste. The rest of the words died on your tongue as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes.

Luke pulled you closer by the hips, one of his hands resting on the skin of your waist underneath your shirt. You shivered happily and pressed yourself flush against him. Goosebumps erected everywhere he touched you and when he pulled away to kiss your jaw, your eyes fluttered closed at the pleasure of feeling his lips on your skin. You tangled your hands in his hair, twisting and lightly pulling at the soft strands. You pulled him back up to your lips, desperately wanting to kiss him again. He happily obliged and lightly bit your bottom lip. You couldn't help but let out a moan at the feeling. You felt Luke's grip on you tighten at the sound.

"What the-"

Luke and you froze on the spot at the sound of a voice you both knew too well. Slowly untangling yourselves from one another, you tried to fix your appearance before facing Annabeth with a nervous smile. "We can explain-" "Don't." She stopped you with a raised hand. "I'm just glad y'all finally got it outta your systems before I dropped dead from the mutual desperate pining. Good night."

You let out a small, breathless laugh as she disappeared inside the cabin. Luke ran a hand thought his hair, letting out a slow breath before cupping your cheek and stepping closer to you.

"So, now that that's cleared, where were we?"

[preseriesdean]

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.

[ellecdc]

OMG I HAVE AN IDEA

What about the kids (mid Hogwarts) in like 3rd or younger (2nd?) Year and they invite hermione and ron and the Weasley family for Christmas and it's amazing and we see draco getting along w them 😭😭😭 and Hermione is the 'mom' friend so she loves hanging out w the other blacks and potters? and we see how nice harry and draco's friends are and it's just a heartfelt moment 😭😭😭

I'm a whore for Christmas and also fluff so YES HERE YOU GO I don’t even know if this is any good so I apologize if this isn’t really what you were looking for. I realize now there isn’t much interaction between the golden trio + Draco but this is my take on it 🫶 CBBH Holiday Special - Weasley, Potter, Black families

CW: mentions of past (parental) abuse

What's One More?

You and Sirius were pretty chill parents – at least you liked to think so. You never really spoke to your children like they were children, but rather like little people who had important thoughts and ideas. You let them express themselves creatively, which sometimes led to paint and marker prints lining the walls, or photo albums being plundered and cut up to create scrap books, or even the odd redesign of an old family heirloom portrait in the hall.

None of that wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with a little magic.

What you guys could not budge on? 

Christmas at home with the family.

This was why when Draco sent a letter home during his 3rd year suggesting he may stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, Sirius thought your head might actually combust.

“What on earth is he thinking? He’s never spent a holiday away from us – why wouldn’t he want to come home?” You were yelling at Sirius as if it was him who suggested Draco stay at Hogwarts this Christmas. 

“I’m not sure love, maybe there’s a reason.” He tried to reason with you. He should have tried to keep his mouth shut.

“There is no reason good enough to break his mother’s heart.” You pouted, sounding disturbingly close to tears. 

And you all called Sirius the dramatic one.

“I’ll talk to him.” Sirius promised with a placating kiss to your temple.

So, Sirius sent him an owl basically along the lines of “hey mate, you’re tearing your mother apart here. It’d be sort of shady of me to let another guy break my girl’s heart so what the hell?”, to which Draco replied, basically speaking straight to Sirius’ soul. 

“I’m sorry, dad, it’s just that Theo doesn’t really want to go home this winter, and I don’t want him to be alone for the holidays.” 

My stupid lovely caring son, who raised him? Sirius wondered to himself. The answer was obvious. It was you.

Theodore Nott, son of Thoros Nott and the late Camelia Nott nee Rosier. His mother died under suspicious circumstances (which Sirius felt translated directly to “shitty ass husband”) when the boy was four, and Thoros Nott was able to avoid prosecution for his roles in the Wizarding War by offering intel on other prominent Death Eaters.

Azkaban or not, the man was an ass. Rumoured to have killed his own wife, Sirius couldn’t imagine he was much nicer to his only son.

The heir. 

Sirius felt sick...it was nearly painful how much he could relate to poor Theodore Nott.

“Did you find out why your son hates us?” You asked Sirius a few days later. You were obviously teasing, but Sirius didn’t miss the genuine concern in your voice.

“Yes, and actually, the reasoning for his absence this holiday is a direct result of him being your child.”

You placed the mug you’d been holding a little too roughly onto the table as you leveled a look at Sirius. “What are you on about?”

“He doesn’t want to leave his friend behind.” Sirius smiled kindly at you. He watched the contempt drain from your face.

“The sod!”

Sirius barked a surprised laugh. “What!?”

“That’s such an easy fix!” you exclaimed like everyone around you was sort of stupid (they kind of were). “His friend can come here! We’re already hosting the Weasley’s; Lily told Harry to invite Hermione too. What’s one more?”

What’s one more, indeed.

So that’s how Sirius, James, Lily, you, Arthur & Molly Weasley ended up on platform 9 ¾ to retrieve exactly eleven (11) children while Bill and Charlie waited back at the house with Remus, Regulus and the youngest four of the Potter/Black children.

“Hermione, I hope your parents weren’t too disappointed we stole you away for the holidays. They already have to part with you for ten months of the year.” You said as you served Lyra a portion of roast potato’s before passing the dish to your left. 

“They were a little sad, but they said they understood my excitement at getting the chance to spend more time with wizarding families.” The fourteen-year-old stated matter-of-factly.

“Well, perhaps the next time they’d like to join you. The more the merrier.” James interjected.

“You sure about that Prongsie? This table can’t take much more transfiguring to make it any longer!” Remus called dramatically from the opposite end of the table, as if they were in completely different rooms.

“Bugger the table!” James called back just as dramatically, “we’ll just get a new one!”

Sirius didn’t miss the nervous glance Theo shot towards Draco. Sirius remembered how nervous James’ boisterous behaviour with his parents made him – concerned that a lashing or crucio was just around the corner.

“Don’t mind them, Theo,” you offered quietly to the boy. Sirius took a moment to marvel the fact that you’d noticed too, and your mama-bear protection came out at the perfect time. “They’re idiots with zero volume control.”

“I HAVE PERFECT VOLUME CONTROL, VIX.” James screamed, causing the younger kids to squeal in laughter and bring their hands up to cover their ears. Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley’s all chuckled at the outburst as well – accustomed to James’ brand of goofiness.

“You get used to it, trust me.” Sirius offered quietly with a wink. Theo smiled gratefully at the two of you and seemed to relax somewhat in his chair.  

“I agree that the production needs to be tightly structured and coordinated Percy, but it also has to be fun or you’re going to lose your actors.” Hermione could be heard arguing with the older boy from down the hall.

"I cannot work under these conditions." Percy could be heard responding.

“You’d think this was a Broadway production of Sweeny Todd.” Lily muttered quietly to Sirius sat beside her.

“What’s a Sweeny Todd?” Sirius muttered back.

“What’s a Broadway?” James muttered from her other side.

“Purebloods.” Remus muttered from across the room with an eyeroll.

The kids wanted to make their own play for the adults - it was mostly the youngest ones, though Fred & George never could help themselves but partake in any potential mischief, Hermione was very excited to help direct the production, and Percy never could leave very much alone. The second Hermione was involved, Harry and Ron shoved their noses into it too, while Draco and Theo sat in the audience with the adults and far too many stuffed animals.

“I mean, were the teddy bears really necessary? There’s already a theatre worth of people here.” Theo commented what he thought was quietly to Draco, but he had one werewolf and four animagi with animal-like hearing, as well as Molly & Lily with tried and true mother-hearing in the room, so his comment was met with a round of laughter.

“Oh my gods, Draco, can we keep him?” Remus commented as he pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye.

Pink dusted the tops of Theo’s cheek bones, but he offered the room a shy smile.

Sirius thought it was like looking in a mirror: he imagined this is what Effie and Fleamont saw when Sirius spent holidays in this very home some nearly twenty years ago. A boy who was likely fun and eccentric around his friends where he felt safe, but reverting to the proper pureblood heir you were beaten into becoming around adults. 

Sirius sort of hated it.

As the little kids and the rest of the production made their way to the room, Sirius noticed James’ eyes on him. James offered him a kind smile that brought tears to his eyes, almost as if he was saying ‘I know, right?’ 

By the end of the holiday, the adults had almost managed to get Theo to shed his aristocratic persona with them.

“And how’s Minnie? Are you guys being nice to her? Make sure to set up some good pranks this year; gotta keep the old gal on her toes, it’s good for her health.” James said to the Hogwarts students solemnly at breakfast. 

“You did not just call Minnie an ‘old gal’, Prongs.” Remus chided from his place at the table.

“You both did not just refer to Professor McGonagall as Minnie.” Regulus added incredulously. 

“That’s her name, Reggie.” James answered no nonsense. “We earned that right when we graduated.”

“No, we earned that right when we graduated.” Lily corrected as she motioned to herself, you, and Regulus. “You lot should still be in detention for the crap you pulled.”

Remus, James, and Sirius all adorned their faces with a blissful sort of reverence as they thought back to their school days.

“We were awesome.” James said dreamily.

“You were awful.” You corrected.

“You’re our hero’s.” The Twins added in unison. 

“What in Godric’s name are you doing to them, Hermione?” Ron asked through a large serving of sausage in his mouth. 

Hermione, who was replacing small pompom’s into two kitchen whisks to hand back to three-year-old Stella and Leo, didn’t even spare Ron a glance as she answered sharply, “It’s good for their fine motor skills, Ronald.”

“Wha’s a fine motor skill?” He asked incredulously, somehow still with food in his mouth.

“Oh, read a book, Ronald.” Hermione huffed before her face turned sickly sweet as she cooed at Stella. “Good job, Stell!”

“Blimey.” Ron muttered as he turned to Harry.

“I can’t believe you’re all going to be leaving us again so soon!” Molly said tearfully as she looked around the room. “I like our having our table so full- FRED WEASLEY YOU GET THAT FURNITURE OFF THE CEILING THIS ISNTANT.” 

“I’m George, mum.” The twin said from his chair suspended on the ceiling. Sirius had to give him credit for looking as casual as he did whilst all the blood in his body was no doubt making its way to his head. 

“I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE, YOU’LL BE GROUNDED IF YOU’RE NOT DOWN IN THE NEXT 30 SECONDS.”

At the beginning of the week – the shouting, the threats, the energy, and the talking back that George (or Fred, Sirius still wasn’t entirely sure) just displayed would have had Theo pale in the face. Today, he just looked around the room quickly to ensure everyone else was in good spirits before joining in on the laughter.

Back on platform 9 ¾, you and Sirius decided to pull Draco aside. 

“Hey love, listen. I don’t want to embarrass Theo, but would you let him know we really enjoyed his company over the holiday, and he is welcome at the Manor anytime.” You spoke softly to your son.

“We mean it, Draco. The Potter Manor has, and always will be, a safe place for people to run to. If he needs somewhere better, somewhere safer to go, he’s more than welcome to come live with us.” Sirius added earnestly. 

Draco looked like he might cry before he threw himself into his parents’ arms, causing each of them to let out a surprised ‘oof’.

“I love you guys. I’m so lucky to have you – we all are.” Draco said, though his words were muffled from his place in the crook of Sirius’ arm.

“We’re the lucky ones, Draco.” You insisted as you stamped a kiss to his head.

The parents and youngest kids stood on the platform and waved as they watched the train disappear.

“It’s so odd.” James commented quietly.

“What is?” Sirius asked.

“How life works.”

Sirius looked at his mate who was still watching after the long-gone train hoping he would clarify. When it became obvious that he wouldn’t, Sirius elbowed him.

“How’s that?”

James finally turned to Sirius and offered him a smile that seemed to portray a mixture of grief, pride, and love.

“Draco is Theo’s James.”

Sirius watched as you dried your face and went about applying your skincare. 

“I can hear your mind turning from here, babe. What’re you thinking about?” You finally said, causing Sirius to look at your reflection only to find your eyes already on him.

“You’re sure you are okay? If Theo needs to move in with us, I mean.” Sirius asks. 

Your movements paused as your eyebrows migrated to meet in the middle – bemusement painting your features.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“We sort of decided we weren’t going to have any more kids.” Sirius explained. You snorted in response as your turned to face him, leaning back against the bathroom counter.

“Sirius, as long as I don’t have to push anymore out, you can have as many kids as you want.”

Sirius smiled immediately at you. “You sure we don’t already have enough?” He asked

Your smile grew to match his. “What’s one more?”

[nights-legacy]

What Agreement?! - Bakugou x Reader

Main Masterlist ~ MHA Masterlist ~ #2

I hope you like this!

Requested by @simply-trash5

1722 Words

+ You and Bakugou had been close ever since 1st year. After graduation, you two stayed close. From working at the same agency to being with each other's go for almost everything. Save for the few things he only shares with Deku and Kirishima. You thought from how personal and soft he sometimes acted with you, that he shared your feelings for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N's POV

I sighed as the train ride seemed to take forever. I could hear the whispers and clicks of people's phones from both sides of me. I ignored it, having got used to it over the past couple of years. Finally the train made it to the station and I quickly got off while dialing my phone.

"Hello?" Mina chirped on the other end.

"Hey Mina. Sorry I'm late. I'm just a few blocks away so I'll be there in a few minutes.

"Great! I was starting to wonder. But Y/N, to have is something you should know. Kat..." The sound of some fangirls coming towards me caught my attention.

"Damn. I thought they were going to leave me alone. You'll have to tell me later Mina. I'll be there in a few minutes." I hung up the phone.

After about 10 minutes, I was able to slip away to get to the party. I walked a few blocks to the restaurant. I was greeted first by Sero outside who was out for a smoke. I found Mina next who as soon as she saw me, she looked panicked a bit.

"What's wrong Mina? You look like you've seen the worst thing in the world." I chuckled. "Where's Bakugou? You mentioned him."

"Not the worst for me but for you maybe." I gave her an amused but curious look.

"Okay now you have to tell me." We walked into the actual room for our party.

"Well let's just say, um... Katsuki..." I listened to her until Katsuki's voice caught my attention. I quickly zeroed in on him, only for my stomach to drop by what I saw. Katsuki was standing across the room next to Kirishima. Kirishima wasn't the deal, it was Katsuki's arm around some girl I've never seen before, shoulders. "Yeah that."

"He has a... date?"

"Yeah. I tried to warn you on the phone. I'm sorry."

"I, um... That's fine." I stuttered.

"Y/N?" Katsuki looked over at that moment and saw me. He waved me over.

"I'll talk to you later, Mina." I walked over to the three standing there. Kirishima and I swapped greetings before he gave me a sympathetic smile and walked away.

"Y/N. This is Maya. My girlfriend. Maya,  this my best friend Y/N."

"Nice to meet you." I shook her hand. "Wow Kats. A girlfriend. I had no idea."

"Yeah. We wanted to keep it on the down low from everyone until we got more comfortable With each other."

"Oh that makes sense. Especially with our crazy friend group." I forced a chuckle. Plus, to prove my point Denki screamed something across the room before the lights flickered.

"Spark plug..." Kat muttered. Maya giggled and set her hand on Kat's chest. My throat closed off at seeing how close they were. Kat still didn't like us touching him outside a high five, a shoulder touch, or back slap even after all these years.

"Well, I'm going to greet a few of the others. It was nice meeting you Maya."

"It was nice meeting you too!" She said sweetly. I smiled and walked away. I could feel my eyes stinging as I walked towards a blurring figure with purple hair.

"Hey there Stormy." Shinso greeted me softly. I wiped my eyes. I looked up and he gave me a sad smile. 

"Hi." I greeted. 

"Come here." He held out his arm. I settled into his side and he hugged me tight. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was bound to happen."

"Yeah. But we all thought it would be with you." He said softly. "Rooting for it actually." 

"Yeah. Sorry to disappoint."

~

As the weeks went by, Kat invited me out to hang with him in Maya. I went most of the time but eventually I started to distance myself from him. Kats kept calling to hang out but I made every excuse to say no. I even started to pair up more with other heroes for shifts.

"Okay. I'm heading out for the day." I said as I packed up my stuff. I stood up from my desk and grabbed my bag.

"See ya later." Sero said while saving over his shoulder. "Oh by the way. Katsuki is getting real antsy about why you've been avoiding him."

"I haven't been avoiding him. I've been avoiding ... them, together." I admitted. He sighed and turned to me.

"Y/N, babe. I know seeing him with someone hurt but he is still my best friend. You keep acting like this, you're going to hurt him."

"I know." I plopped down in my chair. "It just hurts seeing the man I'm in love with with someone else. I mean it was bound to happen but I didn't think... I mean, Kat never showed interest in dating much, ever."

"I know. It took us all by surprise. Even Deku."

"I just can't stand the sight of them being all lovey. It's like a knife to the heart thrice times over."

"Um... Y/N."

"And I'm so in love with him that I don't know if I can get past this."

"Y/N..."

"I can't help but love him, Sero." I said before looking up at him. He looked a little pale and gave me an apologetic smile. I gave him a confused look.

"You what?!" A familiar voice snapped from my right. I quickly looked to see Kat standing there with a confused glare.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" I panicked, looking at Sero.

"I tried!" I looked back at Kat and he stood there with his cams crossed.

"Kat."

"Explain." He said in a condescending tone. The tone made me a little upset. And hurt. I looked away and got up.

"I'm leaving." I walked towards the elevator.

"Oh no you don't." He snapped and followed. I rolled my eyes and covered him in fog so he couldn't follow.

Later that night, I was sitting on my couch watching some TV. There was a familiar knock on the door that made me freeze up. I looked at the foyer before getting up. I walked to the door and opened it.

"Really? Fog?" He said unimpressed.

"Worked didn't it." I said. He rolled my eyes. I went to close the door.

"Wait!" He put a hand on the door keeping it open.

"Kat, I can't do this right now."

"Y/N. Please let me in. We need to talk." He said quietly, trying to hide the fact that he was pleading.

"I don't want to." I started to close the door again.

"It wasn't real!" He shouted, panicked. I paused and reopened the door.

"What wasn't real?" He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. I finally noticed how disheveled he looked, like he had gotten dressed in a flurry and his hair was entirely out of place.

"The relationship with Maya." He said. I was silent for a minute.

"WHAT?!" I exclaimed. He bit his lip. "Get in here!"

"Okay." He stepped in and kicked off his shoes. We walked in farther.

"Explain!" I snapped.

"Maya and I made this little agreement."

"Agreement?"

"Yeah um."

"So you lied to everyone?" I said in disbelief

"Well, yeah." He said. "But..."

"Katsuki!" I scoffed. I was pissed at him. "Why would you do this?! This isn't like you. You don't lie!"

"I know but..." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I just can't believe you would do this and..."

"Will you just listen to me?" He snapped. I looked at him only half surprised.

"Yeah, yeah." I nodded. He sat down.

"I did it because I thought it would make you jealous and if you had feelings for me, you would speak up or do something. When you didn't I figured you didn't have feelings for me." He sighed heavily and sat back on the couch. "But then I heard you today."

"Shit. Right." I muttered and hugged myself.

"Maya agreed to help me and I shouldn't have done it but I did. It hurt us both in the end." He let his head fall into his hands. I had never seen him act like this, so it must really be bothering him. I sat down next to him. "I nearly caused myself to nearly lose another best friend. Again."

"You haven't lost me." I said softly. He looked over at me.

"I haven't?" I could see the doubt hidden in his eyes.

"No. I wasn't going to leave you. I just needed time to get past the fact you were with someone else. As you probably heard me say to Sero, I'm in love with you and it hurt to see you with Maya." I admitted. "I had to face it sooner or later but I wasn't going anywhere."

"Oh. Good." We sat there in an awkward silence. I was looking down at my lap. "Hey, look at me."

"What?" I looked up at him. He took a big breath. Cupping my chin, he moved in closer.

"Tell me to stop and we can go back to being friends." He said. There was a beat of silence before I pulled him in the rest of the way by his shirt. The kiss was the complete opposite then you would think coming from Bakugou Katsuki. It was sweet and longing when I thought it would be, well rough and hard.

"We are not going back to being just friends." I said when I pulled away. He chuckled and slithered his arms around my hips, pulling me close. He pulled me into another more passionate kiss.

"Fuck no." He said breathlessly.

"I think we need to thank Maya majorly. We owe her big time." I chucked.

"Oh she benefited from the arrangement too." I lifted an eyebrow in confusion and curiosity.

"How so?"

"She was trying to make the girl she likes jealous too. Except, it worked in her favor." He huffed and did his trademark Bakugou pout. I giggled. I looked up at the clock.

"Okay come on." I stood up, holding out my hand. He gave me a bitch face but took my hand anyway.

"What?"

"We're going out for something to eat." I pulled him up. "And you're paying."

"Fine but I get to pick the place." He smirked.

"Fine by me."

Tag List: @iris-shihabi @cl0verbby @lilparcheesie @keigos-baby-bird @evilunicorns4minions

[queuestarter]

daybreak

(johanna mason x reader)

cw: none- just two girls in love

link to the request → grumpy x sunshine during training for the quarter quell

open to submissions/asks

You watch from across the room as Johanna strips off her training uniform and begins to rub oil all over herself. You shake your head in amusement and refocus on the conversion you’re having with your district mate and close friend, Beetee.

“I wonder what the reason they put the forcefield up this year is,” he comments offhandedly while observing a piece of wood as he attempts to figure out how to start a fire. You sit opposite him, not having much luck either.

You didn’t win your first games by fighting or learning survival skills. You won by appealing to the audience.

“Maybe someone attacked them. Or maybe one of the Gamemakers fell over the balcony,” you giggle, throwing down your two sticks as Katniss walks over to you.

You’ve never met her, but of course you know all about her. Who doesn’t at this point?

“Hello,” you friendlily greet her. She stands over you and Beetee awkwardly. “Do you know how to make a fire with two sticks? We’re awful at it.”

She sits down at the station with you. “Yeah, but I haven’t done it in a while. Let me see…” she grabs some sticks and begins to rub them together.

For the next ten minutes that you three spend at the station, a friendly rapport grows. You talk about many things, like the forcefield, productivity in your districts, and a few other topics. Eventually, she starts asking if you’re going to join any alliances.

“I think so,” you say hopefully. “I know me and Beetee are going to stick together. Johanna, too.” 

“Johanna?” Katniss asks, raising her eyebrows.

You smile, finding your girl across the room. She’s arguing about something with Finnick, shoving his shoulder and getting shoved back in response. 

“Yeah, she’s great. She’s just really, really great.” You can feel a blush growing on your cheeks which you hide behind your hands.

“I didn’t feel that way when I met her.” You furrow your eyebrows at Katniss.

“Oh. While I’m going to go see if I can try to make a lure with Mags. Beetee, want to join?” You want to be nice considering she doesn’t know about your relationship with Johanna and your girlfriend does come off as rude sometimes.

“Oh, yes. That could be very helpful,” he comments, getting up from his seat. “Thank you for helping us, Katniss. Maybe we would keep up that trend in the arena?”

Katniss nods, getting up as well. “I should see what Peeta is doing.”

You don’t talk to Katniss again until the next day of training. 

You’re sparring with one of the trainers, having decided that it might actually be important this time around to work on your physical skills rather than just relying on your brains and public appeal. 

When you finish the spar and are bent over trying to catch your breath, you feel a hand cup your ass. You let out a gasp of surprise.

“Johanna!” You shriek as you return to an upright position. Ignoring the shocked gazes of the people around you, you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her in for a quick kiss. “You can’t just scare me like that when I have a deadly weapon in my hands!”

She looks beautiful with her signature smirk on her face. “I just wanted to let you know how good you were doing. And let everyone know that you’re mine.”

You giggle uncontrollably, holding onto her for a few more seconds. With one final kiss to her smiling lips that end up more on her teeth than anything, you back away from the sparring station to allow other people to enter, namely Finnick and Katniss. Katniss has a look of disbelief on her face.

You say a quick ‘hello’ to them before Beetee is calling your name from across the room. “Can you identify the metal that comprises this beam? It seems to be steel but the density is all wrong.”

As you walk across the room to help out Beetee, you can hear Johanna talk to the two others, none of them being too quiet. 

“What a woman,” she says, causing you to smile once more.

“You two are…? Her?” Katniss practically hisses.

“Why not?” Finnick teases. “Johanna needs something good in her life.”

“Shut up!” You turn your eyes back towards your girlfriend just in time to see her try to knock Finnick over. 

This is what it means to be in love

-

[taizi]

every high and every low

i wrote a tiny little something for @mangogreent, it isnt much but i hope you like ! happy birthday lake ! title borrowed from glad you exist by dan + shay (listen with your platonic nakamaship hat on and dissolve into seafoam with me)

read on ao3

x

Luffy’s body doesn’t scar easily. It’s one of the many facets of a frankly unhinged healing factor; his body shuffles micronutrients and vitamins around like a circus clown juggling pins, wounds healing so quickly and completely that there is rarely a trace left behind.

There are, of course, exceptions to every rule. The smiling pencil-mark curve beneath his eye is one of them. The cruel, gaping burn across his chest is another.

Sanji and Chopper have spent hours going over dietary needs and goals for everyone aboard Sunny, not just their captain. But it’s their captain whose food works like a miracle in his stomach.

If Sanji thinks too long and too hard about Totto Land—about Luffy’s trembling, emaciated limbs when he handed over a disgusting, ruined bento, the way his skin plumped up and shone with good health within minutes of a meal—there are very good odds that he’ll spiral into a fit of grief or guilt or panic no matter where he is or what he’s doing at the time. So he tries not to think about it, and instead loads his captain with carbs and protein and fiber at every opportunity instead.

Suffice to say, Luffy’s skin is largely whole and undamaged, only a few faint scars scattered here and there that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t really looking. His rubber body is a marvel, but it burns like a starving furnace, and sometimes it does him a disservice no one could have possibly seen coming.

“You don’t feel that?” Usopp says with a frown.

“Nuh-uh,” Luffy confirms blithely, watching the feather move back and forth across his arm. “If you pinch me or poke me with something sharp I will, but if it’s soft it’s like it’s not there at all.”

For a moment, everyone sits there and absorbs that information. Sanji can feel it settling over his nakama like a blanket of snow; cold and promising to pack in and be a pain in the ass to shovel through. Sanji has to readjust his understanding of the world, too. It takes him a minute.

The only touches that Luffy feels easily are the ones that hurt. That’s true for everyone, in a sense—but just because a slap might register louder and faster than a gentle touch doesn’t mean the latter doesn’t carry a weight of its own.

Sanji wonders, abruptly, if the last thing Luffy felt from him was the fight they had on Whole Cake when Sanji was desperate to free his captain of his obligations to a pathetic, useless cook—when he did everything in his power to drive him away.

Nami and Brook have joined Usopp in the game of poking Luffy’s arms and legs and squishy sides in the name of proving him wrong, finding a spot where he isn’t so thick-skinned. Brook’s phalanges drumming against his ribs make him giggle a bit, but how much of that is real feeling and how much is simply delight at all the attention and affection pointed his way?

It should be cute, but Sanji can see—and feel—it cutting everyone to the quick. Robin has closed her book, watching the scene without a smile on her face. Franky’s hands are unmoving around the great feathered monstrosity he and Usopp have been building at the table together up until this point, as if he’s forgotten he’s holding tools in the first place.

Enough is enough, Sanji decides, and sets aside his pride along with his bowl of red velvet cupcake batter and maryse spatula, moving around the counter with purpose.

“Got an idea,” he says at length and Nami scoots gamely to the side. Sanji keeps moving before he can get in his own way and takes Luffy’s round face in one work-hardened hand.

Luffy, who has been known to use his actual skull as a battering ram, usually fights with his whole chest and carries most of his injuries there, too. His face, aside from an unfortunate unsupervised incident with a knife when he was little more than a toddler with a highly questionable and often day-drunk role model, is unscarred.

Sanji brushes his thumb against Luffy’s cheek, where the skin lays very thin over sensitive nerve endings. His captain blinks up at him, brown eyes wide and trusting, every bit as if he’s looking at someone who has never hurt him before.

The crew present is watching raptly, their disquiet transforming into absurd, single-minded scrutiny. There’s a reason they’re not only living in the New World but thriving there—they’re good at adapting, at assimilating new information, at smacking the curveballs right out of the park on their second swing.

“Feel that?” Sanji asks.

Luffy tips his head curiously, just enough not to dislodge Sanji’s hand. Perfectly willing to sit still and be held when it’s his cook doing the holding.

“Kinda,” the boy says, the barest hint of a furrow forming between his brows. It’s the beginning of an epic spoiled sulk that everyone who loves him is intimately familiar with—because his nakama belong to him, and so Sanji does, and so his hand on Luffy’s face does, and it is rapidly occurring to Luffy that it’s not fair for all of those things to be true and for him not to be able to feel it.

Sanji can’t help but smile, always equal parts charmed and exasperated by the future king in a pout. He leans in and presses his mouth to the same place his thumb was, kissing the soft cheek firmly. He can almost see it when Luffy zings to attention, his overwhelming focus zeroed into that singular point of contact.

By the time Sanji straightens, Luffy is already beaming ear-to-ear.

“I felt that!”

Sanji returns to his dessert prep, perfectly satisfied with the changed world he leaves in his wake. Chopper is already clambering over the top of the table, scattering the bits and bobs of the engineers' project into an irremediable mess in his haste to bury his favorite human in fuzzy reindeer kisses, and similarly everyone else’s eyes are gleaming with promise.

Luffy’s rubber body is both a wonder and a menace, much like the golden soul it houses. But where it falls short and fails him, his friends will pick up the slack. Luffy is probably going to get his cheeks and forehead pinched and poked a lot more when he’s whining or complaining or elsewise being his annoying, incorrigible self.

But he’s also going to get kissed a lot more there, too.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi folks, new here. Do you know if there are fic with Aziraphale seeing everyone love "aura" except for Crowley? Also, there are fic like this for Crowley? 

It's nice to find a place like an archive for gomens fic. Thank you for creating it.

Hello. We have some aura fics here, and you might also be interested in our #aziraphale can sense love tag for similar kind of fics. Here are some more fics about their auras...

Aura of love by Endless_Torment (G)

Crowley, despite being a demon, has always exuded a particularly strong aura of love.

A Light In The Dark by entanglednow (T)

Even after six thousands years, Crowley still hasn't discovered all of Aziraphale's secrets.

oh, your love is sunlight by Mallowleaf (G)

Crowley sought out warmth in his own time. He lingered by fireplaces, brushing his hand out to grab the sparks that leapt from the logs. He basked in the light of the sun, face turned upwards at the sky. He lost himself in crowds of people, drawing heat from contact with their flushed skin as he passed. But by far the greatest source of warmth came from a rather unexpected source - Aziraphale himself. (OR crowley can't handle the cold, but thankfully there's a certain angel who can help him stay warm)

Parting Gift by Aliencritters (T)

“Crowley, you don’t have to lie to me any more,” he said. “There’s something wrong, I can feel it in your aura.” “Just— just leave me, angel,” Crowley said. “You don’t need to see this. I can get through it alone.” “Get through what alone?” Aziraphale asked desperately. — OR: Crowley suffers from chronic pain, and Aziraphale eventually finds out at a suboptimal time. He helps Crowley through it, and they learn something about each other.

Be Cool, Relax, Get Hip by amamini (T)

“If all is correct, this should take away any outward characteristics of your angelic nature, while still allowing you miracles and such. And it will keep you hidden from prying occult forces.” Aziraphale uncorked the vial. “Well, I wouldn’t say Heaven is occult, it’s ethereal.” Gabriel’s face fell somewhat. “I didn’t mean Heaven, Aziraphale. Demons wouldn’t be able to sense you.” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “Oh. That’s interesting.” In which Heaven can’t find out that an angel and a demon are in love, but what would they care about a demon going on dates with a(n angel disguised as a) human?

Sunlight or Demise by verovex (T)

Anathema had once said she couldn’t see Adam’s aura, and it should’ve been more of a red flag, but the reality was it had just been so large she couldn’t see it for what it was. For Crowley, it was the same thing with trying to see reciprocation from Aziraphale. * The enormity of love was, by all accounts, indecipherable. Aziraphale had known what love felt like in this world. At least, he thought he understood it. He felt it all around him. He always had. Sometimes, it was stronger in particular places than in others. But, there was something blurred about it all if you looked too close. He’d realized that Heaven never felt like this, yet it’s where you were taught that it should exist. Aziraphale had started to wonder. He couldn’t decide when the thought first came around that perhaps the love he felt had actually been what was sifting between him and Crowley. At some point, it was easier to be humbled by the complacency of what they’d always been showing each other than outright admitting it for what it was. But that wasn't enough anymore.

- Mod D

[fanfiction-blep]

CAN I REQ FOR BRAT TAMING QUARITCH bc im OBSESSED with the idea of him saying "whats wrong, didnt you ask for this sweetheart" while brat taming u, oh yes navi!quaritch x navi or human reader (up to you) also maybe quaritch with a spanking and belly bulge kink too 🤭

PLS DOO!! tyyty

PLEASE This man is 1000% a brat tamer. This was so much fun... I hope you enjoy ;)

Brat Tamer Miles Quaritch

Warnings: Dom Miles Quaritch/Brat tamer. Smut, Mentions of fingering, Restraints. Dirty talk. Degradation only if you squint tbh. Fluffy care giver if you squint. Daddy kink.

"OKAY! So hear me out. This man is 10000% a brat tamer wanna know how I know? A brat can see a tamer from a mile away.

look at him, he wants submission from everyone but he takes joy in forcing someone to submit. He takes pleasure in knowing he has the power to push you into submission.

Also as every Dom should he acknowledges your submission as a privilege he realises that it proves how much you trust him. You know how deep his degradation and punishments can go, so when you tease him understanding all to well exactly what is in store for you. He knows you understand the risks. (As you have vocalised this many times to each other.) In this sense his brat tamer tendencies aren't exclusive to the bedroom. He knows he has to take a more care taking role at times.

"Drink you're water princess" "Don't fucking pout at me, drink ya water. Or you want something else in ya mouth?" "Yes Daddy" "Good girl"

He will be so caring outside the bedroom, out side the wondering eyes of others. He is a very private man, he doesn't want everyone knowing his business as long as people know that you are his than that is all that matters.

He will mark you up real good to let the others know too, he'll take pride in you marking him. The first time you bit into his neck and left marks Lyle couldn't help himself. "Have a good time last night Colonel" sniggering while you blush hard, he would place his hand over your lower back in support. "Mind ya business Lyle." secretly he loves the attention, he doesn't want to get into details or have everyone be clued in on you're relationship. As long as people know he owns you, that's all he needs.

NOW inside the bedroom.

You will tease him, for days sometimes. Whether its lingering touches or pressing you body against his. If you haven't been able to be alone for a hot minuet than you'll push it further by wearing a low cut tank, showing a little more cleavage than you normally would. That would push him over the edge, there really isn't much need for skirts on Pandora. However if you retire first to your shared bedroom and he walks in on you undressing/in your underwear... Girl i feel sorry for you.

He'll close the door real slow, do the eyebrow raise thing and lock the door.

there is a cabinet next to the door, at the end of your shared bed. This is where he keeps all the kinky stuff. So if he walks in on you barley clothed or even after a day of teasing he will pull out a pair of cuffs and stalk over to you.

"Strip" Yes sir "On the bed" Anything you say daddy.

Whether you are human or Na'vi man is HUNG so you need a lot of foreplay before anything can actually happen and in moments where you have teased him. He will use foreplay as a part of the punishment. He wont give oral as foreplay as it wouldn't be a punishment.

King of edging!! He will finger you, play with you're clit and keep going until you are a mess. Unable to do anything other than writhe underneath him due to the restraints.

WILL MAKE YOU BEG FOR HIS COCK. omg could you imagine him just tilting his head pushing a lip out and looking down at you. "Ya gotta ask real nice, only good girls get rewards." "Since you want to act like a fuckin' brat i gotta fuck some manners into you"

When he finally pushes himself inside you, your wound up so tight from all the edging its too much.

"Please, daddy. It's too much" At your whimpers he would start snapping his hips into yours holding you're hips down ensuring he can continue his harsh rhythm. "What's wrong sweetheart" He'd mutter between thrusts "Didn't you ask for this? acting like fuckin' brat all day. isn't this what you wanted? To be full of my cock?" You're head would turn to the side his words sending electricity straight to you're core.

His hand would cup your chin forcing you to look at him. "You look away I stop. Understood?" You would nod into his palm, desperate for him to make you cum. "Good girl, now tell me. Didn't you want this? for me to stuff you with my cock, claim you?" A whine left you're lips struggling to form a sentence, his pace slowed down his eyes warning you to speak. "YeS! Please, that's all i wanted you to fuck me" "Fuck" He would growl thumbs beginning to bruise you're hip bones as he slammed into you, bringing you to the edge of your orgasm.

The cocky bastard would lean back on the balls of his feet and start thrusting into you at a new angle. "I don't know if you deserve to cum" He would mutter pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Pulling you're hips slowly down on his cock. "Please" The beg that left your mouth was desperate, your eyes pleading with him. "Please I'll be good, I need it. Need to cum on you're cock daddy"

"Hmm" He would hum nodding and then he would start thrusting into you pulling yours hips to meet his own, his pace brutal and the sounds leaving his mouth fucking primal. he was a beast and he fucked you into at least two orgasms.

"Ya wanna cum again for me?" His head was thrown back, mouth agape. "Too much" You'd shake your head whimpering and whining beneath him. "thought ya were gonna be a good girl for me" You whined in defeat, almost closing you're eyes due to the pleasure. You're eyes would meet his and he would smirk at you, snapping his hips harder. "You wanna cum with daddy?" You would nod your wrists biting into the restraints. within moments he had you both cumming.

this man!! Please!!!

Brat tamer Quaritch should never be tempted unless you are mentally physically and spiritually prepared to have you're pussy wrecked.

[milkibabe]

okay but like.. craig and tweek both fucking the shit out of you at the same time>>

omg you're so real for that anon. youve inspired me to write a whole ass story :3 hope you like it !!

♥ College Party w/ Craig and Tweek ♥

✢ summary: attending Clyde's big college party, your jealous boyfriends Craig and Tweek can't handle other boys flirting with you.

✢ WC: 3018 (oops)

✢ gender: reader is implied to be female <3

✢ warnings: nsfw!! rough sex, degradation, mentions of alcohol, clyde kinda being a weirdo, threesome (yall are in a poly relationship so yeah), lots and lots of swearinggg

✢ authors note: ummm this came out to be wayyy longer than I thought but once I get started on writing I almost never stop. (also i had an original draft that had like 3000+ words that i wrote fully on tumblr and i pressed ctrl z and lost all of it. sad)

You and your boyfriends, Tweek and Craig, have been dating for a few months now. Even though you and the boys were head over heels for each other, the relationship had stayed a secret by your request. You were afraid your friends and family would judge your choice to be in a polyamorous relationship. Tweek and Craig respected your choice to keep it a secret but were slowly growing tired of seeing men hitting on you in front of them. When Clyde invited you to a party at his house, you decided to bring your secret lovers along with you. This party was their chance to claim you as theirs in front of everyone, once and for all. 

It was around 7 pm that you lost track of where your boyfriends went. The music was loud and the crowds of people were a little disorienting. You were about to look for your boyfriends when suddenly Wendy and Bebe invited you over to their little corner to drink. You politely accepted since you thought you should unwind a little with the girls. A few drinks in, Wendy started to talk about her relationship issues with Stan while Bebe just shook her head. 

“Girl, you should just drop him I swear!” Bebe said rolling her eyes. Wendy took another swig and sighed.

“I know, it would be great to be single like Y/N.” Wendy said looking over at you.

You almost spit out your drink. ‘Quite the opposite’ you thought to yourself.

“Yeah, trust me. After I dumped Clyde, my life has been so much better. Sometimes boys are so suffocating and needy.” Bebe said admiring her freshly manicured nails. 

You felt the conversation starting to get a little too serious for your liking, so you excused yourself and went to get some fresh air outside. 

You sat on the back porch, where it was secluded. The air felt cold on your exposed flesh, making you hold your own arms to stay warm. You decided to really dress up, hair and makeup all done up, you wanted to look pretty for your first college party. You felt a little lonely outside, you started to wonder where your two boyfriends went. ‘You have two of them, how did you manage to lose both?’ you thought to yourself. Your thoughts were quickly cut off when you saw two shoes stop right in front of you. 

“What’s up, Y/N?” Clyde asked with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a drink. Clyde was in his usual red varsity jacket, with jeans on. He smelled of alcohol and strong cologne. 

You looked up at him. “Oh, hey Clyde. I’m just getting some fresh air right now.” You replied.

“What’s wrong? Too many people in there for your liking?” He asked sitting next to you. You noticed he was sitting a little too close.

“Y-yeah, I just wanted to get away from all the noise I guess.” You said starting to feel a little nervous. 

“Hm…” Clyde trailed off for a moment. He suddenly put his arm around you, which made you jump a little in shock. 

“We could go up to my room. We’d have plenty of privacy there.” Clyde said with a smug grin.

You gave a nervous giggle in response but were starting to totally panic on the inside. You didn’t know what to do in that situation. 

“Actually, Y/N was just about to hang out with us instead.” You heard a monotone voice behind you. You turned around and saw that it was Craig and he looked pissed. Craig doesn’t normally show emotion, so when he looks even slightly annoyed, you know it's bad. 

“Who the hell invited you two?” Clyde said hesitantly taking his arm off you. 

“Y-your mom!” Tweek spat out in frustration. 

Clyde stood up and walked up to Craig. They exchanged glares for a moment until Clyde looked away. 

“Pshht, whatever. You guys fucking suck.” Clyde said walking away towards the door. Clyde opened the sliding glass and went inside, slamming it behind him. 

You stood up and ran to envelop the two boys in a hug. “Thank you guys, Clyde was being really weird. Please don’t disappear on me again!” You said squishing your face between their arms. 

“S-sorry Y/N, Stan and the others were playing poker and you know that C-Craig is addicted to gambling!” Tweek said starting to fidget a little. 

“Yeah, ‘cos I’m damn good at it.” Craig said matter-of-factly. 

You giggled and backed away. “Well, let's not waste the rest of the night. Let’s go inside and party some more together.” You said starting to walk around them.

“Actually Y/N, we had a different idea.” Craig said putting his hand on your shoulder. His hand was big and had a firm grip on you, so you know he was being serious.

“Oh? What is it?” You asked looking at the two boys in confusion.

“J-Just follow us inside!” Tweek said in excitement, grabbing your hand in his. 

“Ok then!” You said before being dragged off by the two boys. 

You went up the stairs and found yourself in front of a room. It was Clyde’s. Craig opened the door and motioned you to go inside.

“Why are we going into Clyde’s room?” You asked starting to get a little suspicious. 

“Just trust.” Craig said winking at you.

You couldn’t resist Craig when he was being playful, since most of the time he is emotionless. You stepped into Clyde’s room, looking around to find clues as to what you were going to do in it. Tweek walked in after you, with Craig being last inside before they shut the door. You heard the lock click, which prompted you to turn around.

“What’s going on here?” You asked hesitantly. Craig walked up to you slowly, making you back up until you backed into Clyde’s bed. You lost balance and fell backward onto the bed, catching yourself with your elbows. Craig bent down to your level while standing between your legs. 

“Tweek and I are getting a little sick of watching boys hit on you. Right, Tweek?” Craig asked turning his head over to Tweek.

“Y-Yeah! You belong to us, n-not them!” Tweek said in frustration. He started to twitch in anger. 

“I’m thinking we finally make it official huh? Make it known to every guy that you are ours.” Craig said with a subtly grin on his face. He held your chin with his fingers, tilting it to look up at him.

“What do you say, baby?” Craig said awaiting your answer.

You started to feel your whole body warm up from his assertiveness. You couldn’t give a verbal answer, just a nod. Embarrassment started to paint your face and you looked away from his gaze. He was right, you guys weren’t really dating if every boy thought you were still free game. 

“Good.” Craig said in his usual flat tone. He gently pushed your chest, so that you laid down flat. “Everyone will know you’re ours when you’re screaming our names.” Craig said crawling on top of you. His hands parted your nervous legs. 

You haven’t actually had sex with your two boyfriends yet, you were unsure how ready you were for a threesome. But at this moment, your whole body screamed for their touch. 

“G-God, she’s so beautiful.” Tweek said walking around the bed, hovering above you, opposite to Craig. When you looked up at Tweek you could see the tent in his pants already starting to form. Suddenly, you pulled yourself back to reality for just a moment.

“W-wait, isn’t it kind of fucked up to do this in Clyde’s bed?” You asked placing your hand on Craig’s chest.

“Yeah, it is. That’s what makes this even better.” Craig said smirking. He raised his knee to meet your clothed cunt and applied enough pressure to earn a gasp from you.

“B-but if you want us to stop, we can.” Tweek said bending down to kiss your forehead.

You became flushed from the thought of doing something on someone else's bed, but the thought was so thrilling you let the better judgment pass you. You shook your head in response to stopping. Craig pushed his knee a little more, making you squirm. He seemed to get a kick out of teasing you. 

“Already squirming? We haven’t even taken our clothes off yet.” Craig said taking in how you looked, all pathetic and desperate. 

Craig nodded at Tweek, signaling Tweek to move onto the bed, where he sat with his back lying on the headrest. Craig pulled you into his arms (rather effortlessly) and rotated you to where your head was aligned with Tweek’s body. He then flipped you over to your stomach. You were so eager that you didn’t even notice that you got onto your hands and knees already. 

“Y-You look s-so fucking sexy in that dress. M-Me and Craig were talking about how much we wanted to r-rip it off you.” Tweek said moving your hair out of your face. 

Craig became deathly silent behind you, which he normally does when he’s focused. You hadn’t really noticed it though because you were too busy soaking up the praise from Tweek. Craig was admiring the view from behind you, pushing back his urge to just fuck you immediately. No, he wanted to give Tweek a chance to have his fun with you first. 

You smiled at Tweek and dragged your hand seductively down his chest to his pelvis, where you unbuttoned his jeans. Your touch was enough to earn a shutter from him and he started to twitch in anticipation. He helped you pull down his pants, where he tossed them onto the floor amongst the dirty laundry that Clyde had neglected for who knows how long. Your face lit up in shock as you saw how big Tweek’s bulge was. Tweek was painfully hard, obviously being pent up for a long time. He breathed a sigh of relief when you finally pulled his cock out of his underwear. You let it lay against your cheek for a second and smiled. You looked up at Tweek and met with his lustful gaze. Tweek was speechless, he just took his hand to lovingly rub your cheek in response. 

You then took the tip of his cock into your mouth. You closed your eyes and let your tongue do its magic. That was when you felt Craig grind his pelvis against your ass. Your moaned while taking more of Tweek into your mouth, earning a grunt from Tweek. 

“F-Fuck you two are so fucking hot, ah!” Tweek exclaimed while holding onto your head. 

 You started to bob your head up and down, building up the excitement in Tweek’s body. Tweek was trying to be patient, but you were going at a painfully slow pace. 

“Y/N, c-can you go faster?” Tweek asked eagerly. 

You hummed ‘mhm’ as a response and started to go faster. The faster pace was nice and all, but Tweek was hungry for more. He wanted to go all the way down your throat. 

“Mmm n-need more!” He said getting restless. He suddenly gripped your hair and pulled your head so that his cock went further down your throat. You choked in surprise and tried to catch your breath but it was too late. The shy blonde had already started and there was no way he could slow down now. 

“S-Shit so fucking good!” Tweek spat out, gripping your hair on both sides. He was thrusting into your face at this point and even though you were struggling to breathe, it was really fucking hot. Your muffled moans in desperation only urged the blonde to keep going. 

“Careful now Tweek, don’t break her before I get to.” Craig said gripping your ass. 

“I-I’m sorry her throat is so a-addicting.” Tweek said as his head tilted back in ecstasy. 

You broke away from Tweek’s grip for just a moment so that you could catch your breath. Tweek was absolutely covered in your spit, his cock aching from the absence of your mouth. You were about to say something when you were cut off by the sensation of fingers entering your wet pussy. You moaned out in surprise when you realized just how neglected you were down there. You hadn’t noticed how wet you were because you were so focused on Tweek. Craig wanted to remind you he was still there, watching you two have your fun. He curled his fingers to hit you in that perfect spot, making you whine out in pleasure. 

Tweek gripped your hair and pulled you down to his cock again. “Don’t forget to finish what y-you started.” Tweek said rubbing his dick against your lips. 

You took him back into your mouth, letting him control the pace once more. Tweek went back to fucking your throat, making an absolute mess of your hair in the process. You felt Craig’s fingers leave you for a moment, which earned a disappointed moan from you. It didn’t last for long though, as Craig pushed the tip of his cock against your entrance. Startled by it, you wanted to turn around to look but Tweek gripped your head. 

Tweek’s tone was darker than you’re used to hearing and didn’t contain his usual stutter. 

“No, look at me. I want you to look me in the eyes while I cum down your throat.” Tweek said briefly pausing before slamming his cock as far down your throat as it could go. 

Your eyes watered and your throat was starting to feel really sore, but seeing Tweek embrace a more dominant side had you entranced. That was when Craig thought it was a great idea to push his cock inside of you. Your already tired voice let out a muffled moan as he struggled to push deeper. 

“Fuck, you’re really tight.” Craig said gripping your hips. Your legs started to buckle from the feeling in your gut, but Craig held you up. 

“Don’t break on us just yet, I want to use your slutty little hole first.” Craig said bending over you, whispering into your ear.

Craig then started to thrust into you, making you instinctively grip the sheets of the bed. You wanted to bury your head into the mattress while he fucked you, but Tweek was still fucking your throat. You were completely overstimulated, your two boyfriends were ruining you from both ends. 

Tweek’s movements started to become more shaky and sloppy, meaning he was coming close to his release. Your spit was collecting at the base of his cock and it was starting to drip onto Clyde’s sheets. Tweek pulled your head far enough to where your nose was squished against his pelvis. This sensation led him right over the edge where he grunted out, “Fuck, I-I’m cumming!” You whined as you felt his thick fluids slide right down your throat. He held your head all the way down for a few moments while Craig started to quicken his pace. Tweek slid out of your mouth from exhaustion and let go of his tight grip on your hair. 

Craig pulled your ass up so that it was all the way in the air. Your back was arched as he drilled into your cunt. Now that your mouth was free, your moans could now be audible. Tweek let you rest on his lap as you got obliterated from behind. 

“D-Don’t be shy, let everyone know who you belong to.” Tweek said moving the hair off of your sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah slut, I told you to scream for us.” Craig said, voice a little out of breath from his thrusts.

“F-Fuck! Mmm! Fuck me harder Craig ah!” You screamed out, not realizing the loud music that was playing outside was turned off a while ago.

“Who do you belong to?” Craig asked slamming his hips against your ass hard enough to make lewd slapping noises. 

“I belong to y-you guys! I belong to Tweek and Craig, f-fuuck!” You whined out, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. 

“Good fucking girl.” Craig said pleased. He moved to an angle where he could dip even deeper inside of you. Rewarding your obedience by kissing your cervix with his dick. Your screams and moans of pleasure filled the room. Your lewd sounds were so loud in fact, that you couldn’t hear the banging and yelling outside of the door. You started to feel your release come very close and your body was ready to give in.

“Mmm— close sooo close!” You whined out, your body almost going limp. 

“Me too baby, cum with me.” Craig said quickening his pace. He used his hand to push down on your stomach, which was enough to give you that orgasm you desperately craved. You screamed out and squeezed your legs together. Your pussy clenched around Craig when you came, which in turn helped him reach his release.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you!” Craig grunted out while holding your hip against his. You could feel his warm seed fill you as his thrusts slowed down. 

He finally slipped out of you and kissed your back. You collapsed on top of Tweek soon after from exhaustion. Craig laid next to you guys and covered all of you with the blanket that was draped on the corner of the bed. 

The door was finally kicked down by Clyde shortly after. Clyde was infuriated and yelled out, “What the fuck is going on here—” But Clyde cut himself off when his face went pale and his jaw dropped in shock. 

Soon the others shuffled to get a peek out of curiosity and collective gasps could be heard from the sight. 

“Nice.” Kenny said impressed.

“Called it. You lost the bet fatass.” Kyle said holding his hand out.

“Dammit!” Cartman said angrily. 

Clyde was at a loss for words and just gawked at Craig. You were embarrassed as hell and hid behind the covers. 

Craig smirked and flipped off Clyde.

It was pretty obvious that your relationship was no longer a secret. 

[dokoni-mo]

Jealous Vader. Your thoughts? 👀

yeah i uhhh,,,

warnings: i didnt proofread this at all lol, unwanted flirting, jealousy, swearing, established relationship, secret relationship, and like the tiniest little dollop of angst

Lord Vader saw every last little thing that went on aboard the Executor. Everything. Even if he wasn't presently there to see it, he still knew of it. He could feel it through the force. Every conversation, every plan propositioned and failed, every word spoken, everything. His master had trained him to be as such; keenly aware.

This, of course, didn't stop when it came to you.

He unfortunately didn't get to see you as often as he wanted. He was a busy man, and you were just as such. You were the commander of his legion, after all. That's how the two of you had met in the first place. Developing feelings for you, he found it awkward to give you commands as time went on. He didn't want to trouble you.

"Vee," you had told him, "It's fine. This is what I signed up for. Besides, people are gonna suspect us if I'm the only person you go easy on."

This was true. Very true. He knew it, and you knew it too.

But damn was it hard for him. You were the only good thing in his life, and that wasn't even an understatement. You were. He didn't want to cause you headache. Not even if it was for the purpose of saving face.

Even harder than that, he couldn't show it.

He was proud to have you. Sometimes, when looking at you through the lenses of his mask, he felt like the luckiest man in the galaxy, despite everything that had happened before. Selfishly, he wanted to show you off. Let everyone know you were his, just as much as he was yours.

You were also pretty. He knew that.

But unfortunately, everyone else did too.

He had assigned you to work with another legion from a different part of the Executor that afternoon, one led by some agent Lord Vader didn't even know the name of. You being the commander, you had to work with the other commander such that everything ran as the Empire wanted: smoothly. From across the room, Vader was able to watch you in his peripheral, loosely following the lecture that the agent was giving him. He was too busy to care what the agent was saying.

He was listening.

"Right," you said, "So in order to keep things moving, I think it'd be best if we shuffled the troops every-"

"Four rotations?" The other commander said, not paying attention to your holopad and cutting you off rudely.

You looked up at him with a tiny sneer, "Three, actually."

The commander laughed, "Ah, sorry. Yeah, I agree."

"Okay... Once the shuffles are completed, we should then... What are you doing?"

The commander had taken a few tiny steps closer to you, looking down at your holopad over your shoulder whilst leaning over you. You had taken a step away when you noticed, and the commander grinned sheepishly.

"Ah, sorry, Commander (Y/N)," he said, "I-It's just... I really admire what you do here. And I've never been this close to the action before."

"I..." you said, "Okay..?"

"I-It's just... You're so smart, Commander, and I just really admire you... Pardon my intrusion, but, I think you're really attractive too, and... I was wondering if you'd maybe wanna get out of here sometime? Like one of the nearby systems?"

Vader wasn't listening to the agent's monologue at all now. Without him even realizing, his fists were now curled into tight, menacing balls, shaking slightly with the sheer force of his metallic grip. In his helmet, the sith could also hear that his respirator had increased it's pace, along with the cooling system kicking into gear. Beneath the mask, Lord Vader's jaw had tightened, staring at the scene before him through his brow.

How dare he.

That damned fool. How dare he speak to you like that. At work too? You were just trying to do your job. How dare he speak to you like that. Stand so close to you like that...

...

Damn.

Jealousy was an old friend to the sith. He had felt it countless times in the past. Hell, it was a big part of why he was in that damned suit to begin with. Lord Vader had a big heart, as much as he was conditioned to not. He loved deeply. So, so deeply. And, with you being the only one in his life, he gave all that love to you. When he could.

But, that was the catch, wasn't it?

When he could.

Vader knew it was dangerous for you to be close to him. If anyone, like anyone, found out, he couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen to you. He was your partner, sure. But, at times, he couldn't help but feel so far away from you.

He couldn't kiss you like he wanted. Only under very specific circumstances. He couldn't hold your hand. Hug you. Take you to nice places. All of your dates were either inside of his cramped meditation chamber, or in some abandoned closet no one went in anymore.

You didn't deserve it. You deserved more.

More than he could give you.

Did you want someone like that commander? Did you want someone that could see you every day? That could hold you? That was better with expressing themselves? That could simply just love you better?

Perhaps you did. And you didn't have the heart to say it.

Vader understood. He wanted you to be happy. And, if it meant that you would be happy, he would bow out of your life for good. He would do anything for you. Even if it meant his heartbreak in the process.

In his sulking, Vader could hear your voice again, making him relax his shoulders.

"Um," you said, "Yeah, no."

You shoved the other commander further away from you, turning off your holopad and crossing your arms with a stern expression.

"Listen, commander," you huffed," It's cool that you admire me. Great. Thanks. But, I'm taken. And, I'm very happily taken at that. I love my partner more than anything in this galaxy, and he loves me too. And I'm not gonna throw that away for someone like you."

You weren't?

You shoved your holopad into the other commander's arms before you stormed off, "Finish the assessment yourself. If it sucks, that's on you."

Vader's armored head followed your frame as you walked off out of the bridge, disappearing behind the doors that shut behind you.

The many thoughts buzzing in the sith lord's head fell silent, and the world around him seemed to slip away.

Lord Vader loved you.

He really did.

[slasherfckr]

Good Morning, I hope you have a wonderful day!!✨ I was wondering if you could write a Michael Myers X fem plus size reader who appreciates Michael and actually treats him like a human✨ plus smut if you like ☺️

Holy SHIT this should not have taken two months to post 😭😭😭 I'm sosososo sorry it did. I wrote this with the Rob Zombie version of Michael Myers in mind BUT I tried leaving it ambiguous enough so if you wanted, let's say PeePaw Myers instead, you could read it as that version too 😊

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☠️⚠️ Warnings - Slight mentions of: Implied sex, domestic abuse, and killings/death⚠️☠️

(Semi-NSFW) Michael Myers x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

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

You sat on your couch, flipping through a book you had checked out from the Library when the couch suddenly dipped. Michael was home.

"Well hello to you too." You laughed as you scooted over to him and made yourself comfortable on his sturdy lap. His hands moved to your plush thighs and gripped them, keeping you in place.

You laid your head on his shoulder, listening to the quiet sound of his breathing coming out from his mask. That was the only sign of life coming from the man as his body was completely still. Well that and the semi-death grip he had on your plump thighs.

You sometimes think how odd it was for someone so cold and seemingly heartless that could murder a random person on the street without a second thought would ever be like....this. Sitting on a couch, holding their S/O so tightly and close. Yet, Michael Myers IS human after all. Everyone, even Dr Loomis or Laurie Strode, seemed to forget that. He wasn't completely incapable of love.

The night you had met Michael, you had gotten into a fight with your now deceased ex. They had shoved you to the ground and were spewing all sorts of hateful things about you and your weight. You nor them noticed the shadowy figure come up behind them and drive the large knife deep into the back of their chest.

For whatever reason, Michael didn't kill you that night. Maybe he had seen the dispute between the two of you, which reminded him of his own past; His father beat his mother perhaps? Maybe it could have been his sister or classmates that relentlessly bullied him in his youth? You didn't know and Michael would never tell.

Yet, for whatever reason, Michael kept coming back to your home after that night. Back to you. You would see him occasionally in your back yard or across the street, just slightly standing in view from a little ways away. As he kept visiting, he would also start to leave little gifts behind. Like a cat leaving a dead mouse for it's owner. Gifts usually included something from one of his victims, like a necklace or a book.

Then one night, after coming home from work, you found him upstairs in your bedroom. You weren't afraid of him like you were that first night or the couple first times you saw him stalking you. No, you knew he wouldn't hurt you...at least on purpose.

He had wanted to officially make you his. Despite every common sense you had, you let him. He was a killer, yes, but that didn't stop you from letting him pick you up and plop you down onto your bed.

Him being a killer didn't stop you from letting him undress you, running his hands all over your body and chubby belly. The way he filled your tight cunt with his fat cock was almost too much for you. He made you feel amazing but also didn't let you forget how dangerous he was either that night. To say you didn't wake up the next day with a few bruises and cuts would be a lie. Him being a killer didn't stop you from falling in love with him. He was, after all, a human just like you were.

While lost in thought, something dawned on you. He's never let you seen his face, even after two whole years. 'Such a shame,' you thought to yourself as you slowly began to feel drowsiness creep up on you. Damn. You had gotten too lost in though and were now getting sleepy. Yet that did stop you from wondering what Michael looked like under that mask. Was he cute? Ugly? Incredibly hot? Guess that was only for him to know. Apparently Laurie had unmasked him once and saw his face, but she took the secret of his identity to her grave.

Suddenly you felt yourself being lifted. You were quickly dozing off and Michael knew this. Wasn't long before you felt the comfort of your bed. You quickly got yourself under the covers and curled up, snuggling the top of the blanket. You looked up to thank him.

Instead, your eyes ended up meeting the most gorgeous ocean blues you have ever seen. He had obvious scarring on his face but that didn't bother you. You actually found it quite attractive actually. You went to sit up but Michael crawled into bed and put his hand around your neck.

He guided you back down so you were flat on your back, giving your neck a rough squeeze. You could see it now. The animalistic hunger in his eyes. You suddenly didn't feel an ounce of sleepiness in you anymore. It was replaced with a growing pool of heat in-between your legs. You were in for a long night.

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

A/N: I'm sorry if y'all ain't into somewhat Domestic Michael but I'm absolutely a whore for all that 😭 I wish there were more fics with a domestic Mikey

[batneko]

Another look into the Knight and Lord AU! This time, let's see which other roles have been swapped...

Luigi had been… well, brooding was probably the correct term, wandering the grand hall and looking at portraits of kings past. He was examining a ruling queen and wondering if she'd fought for her position or simply been the only available head to put a crown on, when he heard the patter of running feet and the door burst open. From the corner of his eye he noticed Bowser straighten up and his hand go for his sword, but both of them relaxed when they saw the slim figure in yellow and orange barreling down the hall.

“Daisy!” Luigi exclaimed, a second before she grabbed him in a hug. "Oof! You're- Is it good news?"

Her face stiffened as she pulled away. "I missed you. Isn't that good enough?"

Luigi forced a smile. "It's good to see you too."

He tried not to be disappointed. If they'd found something he would have heard before she showed up in person. He knew that, and yet…

"So then why are you-"

Suddenly Daisy stepped past him and stretched her arm out, as if blocking him from view. "Prince Luigi, stay behind me."

"What?" Luigi said. He looked around her shoulder to see Bowser, still standing next to the marble pillar he'd chosen as his leaning place while Luigi brooded, though now with his arms crossed across his breastplate.

"How did you get in the castle?" Daisy demanded. "You're lucky I'm the one who came back, if Peach saw you-"

Bowser ignored her. He unfolded his arms (making Daisy put up her dukes) and pressed one fist against his chest, keeping his eyes fixed dead ahead.

"Sire, your permission to make a patrol?"

He was never that formal unless he was making a point.

"Yes, Sir Bowser," Luigi said. "You're excused."

Bowser bowed, lower than he needed to, and marched past them and out the door Daisy had left standing open.

It wasn't even shut before Daisy leaned over to Luigi and hissed, "Him?"

"Yes," Luigi said simply. "Daisy-"

"You knighted him? You remember who that is, don't you?"

Luigi couldn't stop from rolling his eyes. "Of course I do."

"Why would you knight him? Did he do something like- like saving your life?"

"Actually-"

"Because he probably set it up to get close to you!"

“I asked him,” Luigi said. “Personally.”

“You asked? And he said yes?” 

“It’s already been three months, if he was going to try something he’s had plenty of opportunities.”

“He might be getting everyone’s guard down!”

“He’s been nothing but loyal! He saved my life twice!”

“But why him?” Daisy demanded. “Why him, out of all people? After everything he’s-”

“You were gone!” Luigi exclaimed.

For a moment she stared at him, silent. He hadn’t meant for it to come out accusatory, but… it wasn’t exactly wrong.

Luigi swallowed down his feelings and tried to explain things calmly. “My brother disappeared, and the kingdom’s famous heroes are away looking for him,” Luigi said. “I can handle myself in a fight, but I don’t look it. People tend to think I’m a pushover. it’s better for the kingdom to avoid fights, so I needed someone who could stand next to me and look like too much trouble to be worth starting any.”

“So… you wanted a goon?” Daisy said. She, too, was making an effort to keep her voice calm and steady. “You could find plenty of people who fit that description. Why this one?”

“Not a goon,” Luigi said. “Well, not just a goon. I wanted a ‘loyal opposition.’ Someone with a different opinion about the way things should be done.”

“You knighted him to disagree with you?”

“Pretty much,” Luigi said. “As a leader, it’s always valuable to listen to the people that disagree with you. Usually they just want someone else - like themself - to be in charge, or to go back to what they think were better times, but sometimes they have valid points. Sometimes they’re closer to the common people, sometimes they’ve thought of things you haven’t…” Luigi smiled to himself. “Bowser… He cares about this kingdom. He never left, you know? And he could have. But he stayed here, even after being declared an enemy of the crown. He cares more than he hates.”

Daisy shook her head. “If you say so…”

“I do say so,” Luigi said. “And besides-”

He stopped.

“What?” Daisy asked.

“No, it’s nothing. Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” Daisy said, with a smile. “Come on.”

Luigi took a breath. “I kind of feel bad about this, but… After Mario disappeared, Bowser was the first one we looked at, remember?”

“I remember,” Daisy said. “He’d been seen around the city every day, he couldn’t have done it.”

“Yes, and… that got me thinking. Bowser was the most likely person to come for the throne now that only I was standing in the way. If I got him on my side, I’d eliminate the biggest threat and protect myself from the rest in the same move.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. “That is cold.”

Luigi hunched his shoulders. “I’m king now, I have to think practically.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Daisy said. “And if you’re right and he’s loyal, your plan worked perfectly.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better about it,” Luigi said.

Daisy clapped him on the shoulder, hard enough that it stung. “You’re sure though? I mean, really? You’re certain he’s loyal?”

“Yes, Daisy.” Luigi rolled his eyes. “I told you, he saved my life. Even if it’s only because it would lose him this cushy position, that’s still loyalty.”

“Saving your life is literally the least a knight could do.”

“He does more than that,” Luigi said. He felt himself smiling again. “He’s even started trying to save me from myself, lately. I’ve been working too hard. There’s a lot to do, but… mostly it’s just easier to work than think. The other night, Bowser practically dragged me to bed.”

Daisy’s eyes widened.

“That came out wrong.”

Daisy squeezed his shoulder. “Prince- I mean, King Luigi. Tell me you’re not in love with him.”

Luigi opened his mouth to deny it, but he must have been more tired of this conversation - and the dozen other conversations he’d had like it - than he thought, because what came out was, “Would it matter if I was?”

“Luigi!” Daisy exclaimed.

“I’m serious. Would it make a difference if I was- was giving him unprecedented access to the royal person every night?”

“Luigi!” Daisy said again, but this time there was laughter in it.

“Because you don’t seem to trust my judgment either way.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” Daisy said. "I guess… I just can't see myself making the same choice?"

“It was still mine to make.”

“You’re right,” Daisy said. “You’re right.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“So… why did you come back?” Luigi asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you!” he added quickly. “But you’ve both been sending letters up until now. What changed?”

“It is technically good news,” Daisy said. “We were at a dead end for… longer than I wanted you to know, but we finally picked up the trail again! Peach is trying to gain the trust of some people who might know more, and that’s a lot easier for one person to do than two, so I thought I’d get out of her hair.”

“That is good,” Luigi said. “Then you’re staying for a while?”

“At least a few days. I should check on the house, stock up on supplies, but none of that will take long.”

“Great,” Luigi said, taking her arm. “I want you to tell me everything.”

“Are you sure?” Daisy asked. “A lot of it’s… frustrating.”

“Everything,” Luigi repeated, firmly.

And outside in the hallway, standing next to the door which had never fully closed, Bowser had clenched his fists so hard he was trembling.

Would it matter if I was?

Would it matter if I was?

Would it matter

[saulocept]

you call the shots, babe

pairing: könig/f!reader

rating: t

summary: He shouldn’t think of you this way, he knows. It’s not right, it’s not appropriate. It’s a knowledge that’s been drilled through him from the start, and he hasn’t forgotten about that. And still, he can’t stop.

notes: oh u know lol. post cringe, log out, repeat 🫡  

if its not obvious enough i am not sure what i am doing but also this is self indulgent in nature (have u seen him?) so warning for cringe all ahead. there’s a hint of a spice but its not explicit lol also might continue this further when an idea strikes but yea. sorry everyone lets get back to business. sorry

If anyone would ask, he’d be the first to confess, admit it out loud. It was his idea first – it always had been, and no amount of thinking, wondering could ever excuse his actions. He’d toyed with the idea for weeks, months; he’d stayed up late at night to dream, imagining how it’d go, wondering what he’d do if he’d only been bold enough to chase after what he wanted.

He knows he shouldn’t. Every bit of rationale he has tells him he shouldn’t. It’s not right. It’s not appropriate. He knows this more than he knows anything in the world – a knowledge drilled through him right from the very start, but he can’t help it. He’s liked you from afar, since the beginning, even before you’d actually met, got to know each other – loved, even though it felt too strong of a word to use.

And it’s no secret either. Everyone else around him seems to have caught on, sometimes even going as far as to tease him each time you’re around. You never seem to notice, however, or maybe you’re just used to ignoring it, pretending you couldn’t see the look he gives you, trying your hardest to stay professional, keeping him at arm’s length, like he knows you should.

He knows he should follow your example. Forget he’s ever had any feelings for you and carry on like the good soldier he is. Anyone else would’ve done the same thing, the right thing; you’re his mentor, for fuck’s sake – one of the only few people he’s got comfortable with over the months – and even if you’re not that much older than him, it’s still not right.

But he can’t stop. He’d tried, more than once. Did everything he could to forget about you. He’d tried to distract himself as much as he could, busied himself with other things. Focused on the only thing he’s good at, because it keeps his mind off you, stops his mind from wandering, thinking. And for a while, it worked, until he’s ran out of things to do and he can’t help but start thinking about you, again.

He hates it. He should move on, forget all about you. It’s clear you won’t ever like him back, especially now that you’re more distant with him. Avoiding him on purpose, like you can’t stand being around him anymore. Like a stranger, except it’s even worse, because he knows you now know how he feels about you. It’s unrequited; he knew it from the start, really, but now the knowledge of it closes in on him like dirt, undeniable. It’s the truth, something he can’t ever run away from.

And it hurts, really, because now he feels like he’s ruined everything between you, but it should also help, some part of him thinks. He could find some other hobby, something different to do. And maybe then, he’ll stop thinking about you the way he used to do, with hunger, yearning. Maybe then he could look at you the same way he did before all this: like a friend, a mentor – someone he’d looked up to and adored.

Maybe somewhere down the line, this will be nothing but a pleasant memory, something he’ll look back on with a bit of embarrassment and shame. But he knows he’d always search for you in the sea of everything. He’d tried. He’s still trying.

-

He’s not sure how it happened. If he thinks back on this night, all he’ll remember is a blur. Pieces of a puzzle he can’t hope to complete. Vague details here and there, but he knows that it had been harmless, at first, innocent even. He’d drunk too much, bitten off more than he can chew. He’s not sure why he was drinking in the first place, but he’s not sure if it matters now anymore.

And here he is now, stumbling back into his bunk, drunk out of his mind. His head’s pounding, his thoughts are in disarray, and there’s a second where he couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d like to do nothing more than to fall back into bed, asleep and resting.

But he stops, confused. He thinks he might be dreaming, at first – all his desires coming back to haunt him. You sitting on his bed, unmistakable even from afar, even when his thoughts are hazy. Flipping through a book – yours, most likely, because he can’t remember owning something like that in his life.

He blinks, confused. He leans against the door, looks you up and down. You’re still here, in the flesh, staring back at him with curiosity. It means he’s not dreaming, after all. “What are you doing here?”

His voice comes out a slur; he could barely hear his own voice through the pounding of his own head, and he murmurs a curse under his breath, rubbing his temples with his fingers, as though it’d somehow alleviate the ache in his head. It doesn’t work, not really, but your voice comes after, pierces through the fog, the silence.

“You’re in the wrong room,” you say, and your voice is gentle. He could almost swear you’re smiling, trying to hold back the laugh that he’s almost certain would come. “I think you drank too much.”

He shakes his head, mumbles another curse, then stumbles to sit beside you on the bed.  He watches you scoot a little to the side, trying to give him more space, and he blinks in confusion, staring at you. You’re not looking him in the eye, focusing on your book instead like he isn’t there. He frowns. He could feel the sting of your rejection, and it hurts more than he cares to admit.

“Are you avoiding me?” He shouldn’t even ask that when he knows the answer. Maybe he’s really drunk out of his mind for him to be this honest, this talkative. There’s a part of him that knows he should stop talking, leave it alone. He wouldn’t like what you’ll say, he knows, but he can’t seem to stop.

He stares at you, waits, watches as you flip through another page of your book, still refusing to look at him. “It’s for your own good.”

This time, your voice is quiet, serious, and he grits his teeth, clenches his hands into fists. He knows that. Fuck, he knows it better than anyone, better than you even, and he hates that you’re the one who’s giving him a lesson, giving him a lecture over something he’s known from the beginning. And maybe it’s the alcohol in his system, maybe he’s fed up with your rejection, but the words are right there in front of him, waiting to be said. He shouldn’t, really, if he knows what’s good for him. But it’s too late for any regrets now, or maybe he’s just not in the right mind to care. Either way, it’s out in the open now, and it’s too late to take the words back. “Aren’t we friends?”

He sounds absolutely pathetic, pitiable. He’d laugh at himself if he were sober, less drunk than he is right now. He sounds childish, like a boy throwing a tantrum because he couldn’t get what he wants, and he knows he should stop before he embarrasses himself further, dig himself a grave he can’t ever rise from, but he can’t. Fuck. The words are just spewing out of him now, like a dam has broken somewhere inside of him, and can’t stop spilling, won’t stop spilling. “Don’t you like me anymore?”

“We are friends,” you say, and he hates the sound of your voice, that faux gentleness in it, patronizing and ultimately untrue. Like he’s a child, and you’re admonishing him for misbehaving. “And you know it’s not about that.”

You breathe out a sigh, closing your book with a quiet thump, placing it on the bureau next to you. And then you’re twisting toward his direction, facing him for the first time. There’s a somberness in your expression that wasn’t there before, and still, there it is: that gentleness that he hates, and the one that draws him in like a moth to a flame.

You like him well enough; he knows. He could see it in your eyes, in the way you look at him, and it should feel comforting, really, to know that you’re still friends, that you’re not going to treat him any differently, but fuck, he hates it. Hates how it all feels so fake – a lie carved out of nothing, meant to mollify and leave him wanting.

He’s tired of it, of this, of you. Tired of whatever this strange thing is between you, more confusing than ever. He’s seen the way you stare at him from afar when you think no one else is looking. He’s caught you a few times, and each time, he could never seem to understand what it means.

You’ve never once told him, not really, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be brave enough to ask. But it sits here, anyway, a weight pressing in on him, tight enough to suffocate. Lodged between you, though he wonders if he’s the only one who could see it, feel it.

There’s a time and place for everything, he thinks. Any other time and he wouldn’t even say a word. He would’ve nodded, left it at that, pretended he understood even if he didn’t. He wouldn’t have found the means to say it, too caught up with his own shame to even bother trying. But maybe all the alcohol’s making him numb, stupid. Maybe it’s the only thing that keeps him going, even when he knows there isn’t any hope.

“If you don’t hate me,” he begins, swallowing the lump that forms in his throat. There’s a voice in the back of his mind, protesting, yelling at him to stop, because everything would be ruined after this, but it seems so distant now, so far away. He should stop, say something else, before everything he’d ever worked hard for falls apart in front him. “Then kiss me.”

You stare at him for a long time, startled, uncertain, like it’s not what you’re expecting. A thoughtful look flashes in your eyes, and for a second, you’re frowning, looking deep in thought, like you’re mulling his words over, weighing the pros and cons. “Are you sure?”

He laughs. Fuck. He feels hazy, out of his mind. He stares at you, keeps his eyes on yours the whole time, shifting a little on the bed, closer like he’s daring you to move away. You don’t. He smiles a little, nearly grinning.

There’s a buzzing in his head, and he can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol in his veins or if it’s from excitement, or from something else entirely. He moves a little closer, and still, you remain where you are, refusing to budge. Your silence should feel like a rejection, but it doesn’t, not really; there’s something in the way you look at him that pulls him in, convinces him to take matters into his own hands.

He's giddy, drunk out of his mind, and bolder now than he’s ever been in his life. He would’ve never believed he has it in him, but it doesn’t matter now because he’s making the first move, leaning closer, his face mere inches away from yours.

And still, you’re not pushing him away. He takes it as a sign to continue; here, he feels the warmth of your breath, how it tickles his cheek, his skin. It should feel like a mistake, being this close to you, and he knows he shouldn’t do it, should stop before he starts regretting it, but he can’t. And now that he has you right where he wants you, he doesn’t ever want to go back.

It’s automatic, the way he moves, fueled only by his wanting alone. Slowly, he raises a hand, rests his palm against your cheek. You’re so warm against him, so real; the feel of you now wouldn’t ever compare to his dreams, his fantasies.

He should grab this chance, he knows, before you change your mind, push him away. But there’s a part of him that wants to make the most of it, savor this moment for as long as he can, knowing he wouldn’t ever get this chance again in this life, the next.

“Close your eyes,” he says, and it’s almost strange, hearing himself speak. He sounds different, somehow, his voice raw, thick with wanting that he almost doesn’t recognize it at first.

And still, you don’t object. It feels weird having all this much power over you when it’s always been the opposite. Still, he can’t deny and say that he doesn’t enjoy it, especially now that you’re doing as he asks without complaint, without another word.

He pauses a little, takes his moment drinking you in, memorizing every part of you as much as he could, refusing to take his eyes off you lest you disappear, fade out of existence. Like a dream. Gently, he traces his fingertips along your skin, as if to make sure you’re still real, still here.

His reward is a shudder, a shaky exhale spilling out of your lips, and the sweet taste of anticipation lingering on the tip of his tongue. There’s tension in here, too, somewhere: thick, cloying, nearly suffocating. He can’t deny it anymore, can’t ignore it, and it’s here that he takes the plunge, closing the distance between you.

Fuck. You taste better than he’d ever imagined, better than in his dreams, and he can’t get enough; from your response, it’s clear that you feel the same way, too. You wrap your arms around his neck, desperate to have him closer, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging.

It’s a harsh tug, unexpected, and he can’t help the hiss that spills out of him. It’s enough to make him lose control, though maybe it’s all he’s wanted all along. You’re quick to take the reigns yourself, pulling back briefly to nip at his bottom lip: light, playful, coaxing more sounds out of him.

He stares at you, wanting, waiting, and you only give him a smile before leaning in to kiss him again. The kiss is different this time: hungry, ruinous – all tongue and teeth and merciless taking. And still, it’s not enough, never enough. He tugs you closer, pulls you against him, as if he could somehow keep you with him, forever.

He knows, he can’t, not really. Still, he’s content with staying in this moment for a little while, riding out this fever dream until it’s over and he’s completely spent. Everything that happens is all a blur, and all he remembers are vague details – a series of images that come and go, as fleeting as a memory.

The touch of your hand. The warmth of your skin. The sound of your voice, breathless and wanting. All of your secrets laid bare for him to see: mirroring his own, converging until there’s nothing left but heat and fire, bursting in the spaces between, exploding.

It’s over as quickly as it comes. Darkness tugs at him, and he’s quick to fall into oblivion: content and satisfied. When he opens his eyes, he’s alone, back in his room. The memory of last night comes back to him in full force, but there’s no sign of you anywhere that he can’t help but wonder if it’s all a dream, something he’d made up in his head.