#I feel like Cas possessed me to write this

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! 👋 Thank you for your writing and effort. Can I request a story about reader and Donna having an affair? Maybe reader is Cassandra's gf but Cassandra doesn't treat her right like she flirts with other girls in front of reader and stuff like that? In the process of Cassandra sending reader to run her errands to her aunt Donna house they fall in love. Considering that Donna is super possessive and jealous everytime she sees reader they make love and is a struggle letting reader go back to the castle

One day Donna finds a hickey on reader's neck and goes mad because reader had promised it that Cassandra and her weren't intimate anymore (Cassandra was busy with other girls). Reader tries to explain her that she didn't enjoy it but Donna in her madness and jealousy kicks her out. After that when Donna comes to her sense she realizes she can't live without reader and is willing to fight for her so she goes to the castle and lady dimitrescu thinking her sister has just come to visit her invite her to have dinner. At the dinner table she sees reader and Cassandra but reader looks sad and pale. At one point in the night Donna notices Cassandra and reader fighting and Cassandra about to raise her hand on reader so Donna sees red and punches her niece. That's all the truth comes out and lady dimistrecu having noticed how her daughter treated reader scolds her terribly in front of everybody and let reader go with Donna. G!p Donna is that's okay?

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the delay, and the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Your arms, my safe place

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, castle maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, angst, dark themes, (Y/N) is Cassandra's gf, but things don't go well... mentions of abuse?

Word count: 9,796, too long, sorry

Summary: You wanted to be with her, but fate has another plans for you...

N/A: HELLO AGAIN PEOPLE!!! I'm back as you see!!! Thank you for all your support all this time, you're wonderful!!! I'm here again, but I'm afraid I'm unable to update everyday, but I'll do it when I can, I guess maybe 3 times a week!!! So... Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :)) Oh, and sorry about the language mistakes!!!

Donna's hands slipped under your uniform, untying the ties that held it to your body while you worked on the buttons of the blouse of her dress. Your head spun and the excitement was overwhelming.

Determined to leave behind anything that would interrupt the moment, you broke free from your thoughts when your hands brushed her skin, when your fingers unclasped her bra with a quick movement.

Donna began to become wild, dominant, as if the simple act of claiming you, of making love to you, reminded her that you were one step closer to stop being Cassandra's, to being only hers.

After all, feeling like you were hers wasn't the same as being so. Donna knew that, and it tormented her.

A few intense kisses on your neck brought you back to reality, making you moan, close your eyes, and forget about your worries. Her lips felt soft on your skin, her teeth barely grazed you, but made you tremble.

“D-Donna, b-be careful,”  you said, making the brunette move away from your neck to slide her hands under your legs and lift you romantically, placing you gently on the bed.

“Mm?” she murmured distractedly, bringing her hips closer to yours, making you notice her imprisoned erection pressing against your body and forcing you to emit an involuntary moan.

“N-not the neck, okay? You could leave a mark on me and Ca…” you said with a slightly clearer voice, putting your hands on her shoulders and causing her expression to suddenly harden.

“Shut up,” Donna snapped at you with a cold, angry look, hitting the mattress with her fist. “D-Don't say her name,” she hissed, looking away and accelerating her breathing.

You rushed to fix things as best you could: cupping her face in your hands.

“Shh, darling, forgive me, I didn't mean… Donna, my love, I'm sorry, okay?” you said tenderly, to which the lady closed her eye and let the air out of her lungs slowly.

“I know, I… It's just that I…” she stammered without looking directly at you.

“Come here,” you said, bringing your lips closer to hers, kissing the lady to distract her from the uncomfortable truth of the situation, one that seemed increasingly difficult for the doll maker to assimilate.

The insecurities were silenced with the wet sounds of your kisses, with gasps and sighs that increased with each look, word, whisper, caress…

Your hands sought the warmth of her pale skin, her perfect breasts, her arousal struggling to free itself from the black fabric of her underwear… That was more than enough for Donna to roar anxiously, grabbing your legs and freeing her shaft, bringing it closer to your wetness.

Donna was in a hurry, her body was in a hurry to claim you and her thrusts began to move your body while you closed your eyes, noticing how your walls stretched and pleasure began to invade you.

Your hands moved erratically as she claimed your body desperately, moaning in a very low voice, grunting every time she felt you squeeze her. They were quick movements, but when you opened your eyes you felt relief; relief to see her eyes looking at you as always, with love, with tenderness, in a way Cassandra never did.

You could have lost yourself in her perfectly controlled thrusts, in all the sensations that ran through your body, but something prevented you from doing so, forcing you to focus, to finish that forbidden act as soon as possible.

“Ti amo, (Y/N),” the lady whispered, stopping to kiss you slowly, to check that her haste, her eagerness wasn’t hurting you.

“I love you, Donna,” you answered, with a melancholic smile. “D-Don't stop, please.”

She obeyed with a timid nod, resuming her movements as she separated your legs even further, taking absolute control.

The moans, the creaks of the bed accompanied your feelings until the pleasure was too intense, releasing an orgasm, revealing that your body was ready to enjoy the woman you loved, without thinking about anything else.

Her release came soon after, warming your body, caressing your walls in a wet and lustful way. Afterwards, Donna pulled away with a grunt, lying down beside you to begin your favorite part of those visits.

Yes, sex was incredible, but what you really enjoyed were those moments embraced, naked, those tender smiles of Lady Beneviento looking at you, those kisses soaked with the sweat of the effort of loving you… Yes, that was your favorite part.

After a few comforting moments of silence, you inched closer to her naked body, burying your head in her chest as her delicate hands lovingly caressed your hair.

“I could lose myself in your arms,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the passion that seemed to still reverberate off the bedroom walls.

Donna laughed softly, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead, to brush your hair away from your face as you sighed. You wondered if maybe that was her favorite part too.

Your hands tangled together, absentmindedly playing with each other as the lady in black hummed an unfamiliar tune. Your gaze focused on her soft, fine hands, contrasting with the roughness of yours.

“You know? I find incredible that we have come to this…” you sighed, losing yourself again in her gaze. “I remember the first time I came… You closed the door in my face…”

“Mm, it's true,” the brunette said, amused, with a touch of shame in her voice. “I wasn't used to visits.”

“Oh,” you continued joking, sensually bringing your lips closer to hers, without kissing them, leaving the lady frustrated, teasing her.

“Now I can't live without them,” she answered, thus beginning a fight of kisses.

“Donna,” you said, trying to get away from her addictive lips with amusement.

 “(Y/N),” she said shortly after, sitting on the bed and looking away from you for a moment.

“What's wrong?” you asked, noticing how her body separated from yours, creating a horrible feeling of cold and abandonment on your skin.

“Mm, niente, io…”

“Hey! Are you done yet?! Angie doesn't like to be alone…” A sing-song voice sounded from behind the door, breaking that tense calm, that moment of lucidity from the lady in black, those words, which, surely, would start a conversation that you didn't feel like having, not that day.

“Angie…” Donna hissed, shaking her head and rolling her eye. “Go away!”

“I don't want to! Come here now! I'm bored!” the doll shrieked, with a mocking melody in her voice.

You laughed at the doll's always irreverent attitude, and at the embarrassment that it produced in its owner.

Donna looked at you and her smile also widened, joining you in a tender and soft laugh, resting her forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), you know the way she is,” she said amused, shaking her head and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Poor Angie,” you mocked in a low voice while the doll tried to get your attention with soft knocks on the door. “Besides, I…” you said, immediately staying quiet.

“What?” the lady asked, suddenly nervous, her gaze reflecting the fear of hearing that phrase, the phrase that always stabbed a knife deep into her heart.

“It's late and…” you whispered unsure, looking away and uncovering yourself, searching for your clothes. “I have, I have to…”

“Don't say it, please,” Donna interrupted, shaking her head, grabbing your wrist.

“I'm sorry, Donna, but I have to go,” you finally said, disobeying that silent plea, making her hand gently leave your skin. “It's going to get dark.”

“But, but,” the woman said, shaking her head and searching in her mind for an excuse, some words to make you reconsider your decision.

It wasn't really a decision. Your heart ached at the thought, knowing how much it hurt Donna to see you leaving, something that was becoming more and more difficult.

In silence, you both dressed again, without looking at each other, without doing or saying anything. The tension slowly increased; a tension that couldn't be dispelled with an apology or an empty promise, not anymore.

“Can I brush your hair?” Donna asked in a whisper as you looked at yourself in the vanity, searching for a mark, anything that could give you away to your true owner.

You nodded, letting her take a brush and gently run it through your hair as you both looked at each other in the mirror. Her bright eye betrayed regret, sadness, and yours betrayed lack of sleep, tiredness, laziness…

It was an overwhelming sight, but somehow it had its own sparkle. She was at your side, her beauty accompanying you, her hands caressing you as she gently combed your hair. Donna was with you, and that made you feel complete.

“Are you two deaf!? I'm here...” the doll joked, but without causing the same laughter as before.

It was a sad moment, the only moment you hated when you were with Donna.

“(Y/N), you don't have to do it,” Donna said softly, checking the result of her movements in the mirror and bending down slowly, surrounding your waist with her arms. “Please, stay with me a little longer, please.”

“You know I can't.” It was all you managed to say, shaking your head and pushing her hands away as you got up from the chair.

“We could play chess, or, or I could teach you to cook my recipes… Or maybe we could read in silence, with the fireplace sheltering us from the cold and…” the brunette insisted, pulling your body back, holding you tighter again.

“I can't, Donna,” you said, moving away abruptly, regretting it instantly. “Don't make it more difficult for me, my love…”

“You make it difficult for me,” she replied, giving some room and moving away. “You don't know what it's like to see you leaving every week, to see you going back to… to her,” she whispered with a cold look, with her teeth clenched.

“Donna,” you reprimanded, cupping her face in your hands, fearing that the tension would suddenly explode, embittering the moment. “I'll be back, you know I always do.”

“What if one day you don't?” she asked, grabbing your wrists, hurting you.

“Honey, please let me go,” you said in a calm voice, being released instantly. “I promise I'll be back. You're the only thing that makes my life worth living.”

“But, tesoro...” she insisted, grabbing your wrists again, this time more gently. “Io...”

“Shh...” you hissed, putting two fingers on her lips before kissing them softly, noticing the salty taste of a tear that came out of your eyes involuntarily. “Donna...”

“(Y/N), don't leave,” the brunette said again, lowering her gaze, blinking erratically.

“I'll be back, darling,” you repeated like a mantra that relaxed, but at the same time, distressed you.

Finally the lady in black nodded, keeping her hand in yours, but accepting the reality.

With a passionate kiss, you pulled away from her, walking towards the bedroom door, something you couldn't do, as her grip refused to let you go.

“Donna, please...” you said, increasingly nervous, pulling on her arm. “Donna, let me go.”

She did so with an angry growl and a dark expression, turning to give you her back, making her dress dance hypnotically as she sat at the vanity, unable to watch you walk away.

“Just be patient, my love,” you said quietly, opening the bedroom door, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“It's about time! Let's play!” Angie shrieked as she saw you walk past her. “Hey, silly, are you leaving?”

“I'm sorry Angie, but I have to go back to the castle,” you said, putting on your coat, refusing to look back.

A loud noise startled you: Donna's fist hitting the vanity furiously. It was time to leave, you couldn't leave her like that, but you had to.

“Cazzo!” the brunette shrieked as she hit the furniture over and over again.

“Oops,” Angie sighed, looking at you accusingly. “It's your fault, silly.”

“I, I just…” you said sobbing, knowing that you couldn't even help her, that you couldn't stay to ease her madness. “I-I have to go…”

“Yes, go! I'll fix your mess, like always!” the doll scolded you, walking gracefully towards the bedroom. “Donna, Donna, don't do that... Donna...”

The brunette's screams and sobs echoed in the walls until you went up the elevator, turning them off like the end of a movie, the end of a melancholic symphony that split your soul in two.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, my love,” you sighed quietly, closing your eyes and walking automatically towards the exit, towards the cold of that place, far from the comfort and warmth of your lover's arms.

Born and raised in that forgotten village, your future was written. You couldn't be what you wanted, but what you had to be. Being just another maid was your destiny, and you had no choice but to accept it.

The castle always gladly hired any young girl who was willing to work, to serve its mistress, but the work wasn't as hard as you expected.

Alcina Dimitrescu was an imposing woman, but elegant and even kind. Little by little you got used to being there, to sharing your existence with the lady of the castle and her daughters, who, on the contrary, didn't have much in common with their mother.

Crazy, free and unhinged, yes, that seemed like a correct statement for the three Dimitrescu sisters. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela were like mischievous agents of chaos who broke the harmony and elegance of that place.

After a year working in the castle, things improved before getting worse. One of the three sisters, Cassandra, seemed to have some interest in you. You never thought that those three creatures had interests beyond blood and chaos, but for a moment, you thought you were wrong.

She approached you, laughing evilly, looking at you while you did everyday chores. Habit made your body miss those eyes when they weren't looking at you, miss that laugh when there was only silence in the castle.

An "I like you", a slight blush on her cheeks and a quick kiss were the closest thing to a confession of love that came out of her lips.

Scared by her presence, and despite yourself, attracted, you let her lips kiss yours, you let your body experience what it was like to kiss chaos itself, and you liked it.

Little by little you began to feel that beyond the blood there was a heart beating desperately for your attention, that those looks and laughs were the expression and confirmation that even the daughters of a Lord were capable of love.

You lived happily for a while. Cassandra paid attention to you, all the maids began to respect you and even the lady of the castle granted you certain privileges for, according to her, having captured the interest of her daughter.

You were in a dream, in a fairy tale. You became a wandering smile that began to see the light at the end of her dark future. But it didn't take long for you to realize that fairy tales were just that, tales.

When you couldn't be more in love, Cassandra began to lose interest.  Maybe if you had opened your eyes earlier, you wouldn't be in that situation.

But your eyes needed to see what your intuition was saying, and so it happened. You saw that the suspicions your mind was screaming at you were true.

Cassandra said you were hers, she did, but she had no qualms about flirting with other maids, whispering in their ears, chasing them down the halls, and, of course, not being careful that you didn't see her.

You believed, she said, everyone thought that Cassandra Dimitrescu was your girlfriend, they really did, you really did.

But the concept of commitment and fidelity was far from the chaos inherent in the young Dimitrescu. Deep down you didn't consider that way of thinking as evil or bad-intentioned.

You knew that she didn't make you suffer on purpose, she was just like that.

You tried to bear it, not to look at the marks on the necks of other maids. You tried to ignore it, to forget that you were hers, but she would never be yours.

The pain became unbearable and the love you felt for her began to fade away.

At that moment, just when you thought your life would be a curse, that there was no other solution than to wait patiently for Cassandra to pay attention to you, you met Donna.

The first time your girlfriend asked you to take some supplies to the old estate you even thought of running away, of never coming back. That thought left your mind as soon as it arrived; you would gain nothing, and you would lose everything.

Instead, you decided to fulfill the errand and approach the old mansion.

The rest of the Lords weren’t a mystery, but shadows that you never really managed to see. Of all of them, the village especially feared the inhabitant of that old house, Lady Beneviento.

You knew what she was capable of doing, you knew that her mind was sick, seriously injured, and that she was dangerous, very dangerous. The villagers often said that they no longer feared nightmares but the lady in black.

That day you arrived there trembling with fear, only to find a woman dressed in mourning, a woman who hid her face with a black veil, a woman who didn’t speak, whose presence evoked the night and the darkness itself.

You completed your task with a kind gesture, which was answered with a soft nod and a sharp slam of the door.

Even with that brief encounter, your head began to wander, to wonder. While you were washing dishes, cleaning a hallway, or while Cassandra was taking you, you could only see that black figure and theorize what kind of creature was hiding behind that black veil.

Over time, it became increasingly difficult to get the lady out of your head, and everything got worse when those errands became frequent.

You were unable to find out anything about her, but the slamming of doors was no longer common. Instead, Donna remained silent, looking at you, as if she were studying you, as if she wanted to check that you didn’t want to hurt her.

That apparent vulnerability sparked much more interest on your part, and you began to talk, to ask, to address that stoic figure.

Little by little those conversations moved inside the mansion. Your almost childish insistence on communicating with the lady was clearly a cry for help, a cry to forget for a moment the place you had to return to, and it worked, it worked too well.

The doll stopped being her speaker and her lips uttered a word for the first time, almost a whisper, a melodic one, impregnated with a soft and attractive accent: your name.

It was impossible to resist staying a little longer, to listen to her hoarse voice a little longer, and you simply let it happen.

She offered you tea, listening to any nonsense you had to say and answering briefly but nodding with interest. You didn't know why you were so interesting to her, until you eventually realized how alone she had been all that time.

You couldn't deny that you began to feel, to notice something more inside your chest every time you approached her, every time her pale hands touched yours when she served you tea.

Without wanting to, but without stopping it, you were falling in love with the lady in black.

One day, a day of tea and chat like any other, that black veil fell. It was removed with a gentle movement of her hands. Donna trusted you. She wanted to show herself as she was because it was inevitable to deny that she also felt something for you.

Donna was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her face was not stained with blood, her lips were not painted black. Her only eye shone without that yellowish evil you saw in Cassandra's. She was a truly beautiful woman.

The scar that the will of the Gods left on her face was one of her most horrible fears, one of her greatest insecurities. Her revelation was also a plea, a vote of confidence, of knowing if those feelings were worth it, or if you would end up falling off the cliff like her family did.

Your answer, your only answer, was a kiss. A tender, desperate kiss, the sudden capture of her lips with yours.

Knowing the consequences of entering someone else's territory, Donna accepted that forbidden relationship, just like you.

You may have felt these visits as an escape valve from your hardships at first, but you refused to see it that way. No, Donna wasn’t an escape from a place you didn't want to be, she was the place you wanted to be.

Yes, she was sick, she was crazy, but she was loving and attentive too. She smiled, she listened to you, she hugged you, she caressed you, she loved you.

You saw in her everything that Cassandra didn't have. You began to believe that it was what you really deserved, that Donna was yours, and you were hers.

The furtive kisses and caresses didn't last long. Something inside Donna made her resemble her adoptive family: jealousy, possessiveness.

She wasn't jealous of the world, she wasn't jealous of anyone who looked at you, she knew where the root of her sometimes abrupt and erratic behavior was: Cassandra.

Feeling displaced made her feel frustrated and, after making another confession to you, she took you for the first time.

Her face wasn't the only thing the Gods changed. Her body did too, enough to make her even more self-conscious. For you it was never a problem, for her, your natural reaction and your slightly mischievous smile was one more reason to love you madly.

For the first time in your life, you didn't squeeze your eyes shut. You didn't feel the need to repress the pain of some unpleasant scratches on your bare skin. All you felt were soft caresses, playful tickles on your skin, kisses that ran over your lips while your bodies moved anxiously.

Cassandra was the first, or so you thought until that moment. In reality, the first woman who truly loved you was Donna.

She made you feel comfortable, she gave you more pleasure than you could ever have felt, she told you she loved you, she whispered it in your ear while she took you slowly, not wanting to hurt you.

At first you felt guilty, you cried on her bare chest after your first time. A few kisses didn't mean that much to you, but having Donna inside you, making love with her for the first time, knowing what it was really like to feel loved, broke one of your emotional barriers.

Donna comforted you. She didn't scold you for having ruined that moment, for you feeling remorse. She understood you.

Time kept passing and the visits kept increasing. Any excuse was good to melt into her arms, to make love calmly or wildly, to feel like you had never felt before and to forget that you would have to return to the castle, that those arms wouldn’t always protect you.

After walking through the snow, without even realizing it, you returned to the castle. All the thoughts about how you met Donna and your miserable life with Cassandra had made your return a simple formality.

“(Y/N), you're back,” one of your companions, Irina, said. She was your best friend for a long time. Now, she was just another maid. “The lady was getting worried.”

You rolled your eyes, closing the doors and taking off your coat.

The heat of that castle, one that at first seemed pleasant to you, was uncomfortable, oppressive, and even more so after that tense moment with Donna, a tension that was increasingly common in your visits.

“I'm sure you all were very worried,” you said ironically, glancing sideways at the red mark on her neck, one that indicated that Cassandra had passed by there, probably tired of waiting for you.

The girl noticed what you were looking at and quickly covered herself with an apologetic smile.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry, she came over and…” she began to explain, making you snort and shake your head.

No, you didn't need to know what your girlfriend had done with her in your absence. It would probably be Cassandra herself who would tell you if she got bored.

“Cut the crap, Irina, I'm not interested,” you said in a dark voice, pushing the girl away with your hand.

“Yes, of course,” the young woman nodded, with an absurd bow, as if you were something more than her, as if you were a maid who has to be respected.

How ironic, not even your girlfriend respected you.

“Oh, there you are, I thought you had gotten lost, dear,” a deep and sensual voice appeared behind you, freezing your steps: Alcina Dimitrescu, lady of the castle.

“My lady,” you murmured with an elegant gesture, fearing that running away to your room and crying wasn’t going to be possible.

“You've taken your time, my dear, have you had any problems with Donna?” the tall woman asked, putting a hand on your back to gently push you to walk beside her.

“No, my lady, she...” you said, stopping to think about an answer, one that wouldn't raise more questions.

To Alcina, the relationship that seemed to exist between her daughter and you was real, pure and sincere. You didn't quite understand why Cassandra pretended in front of her mother. Maybe she was afraid of her, or maybe she was trying to protect you. You didn't want to know.

“Mm?” Alcina murmured arching her eyebrows, urging you to give an answer you didn't have.

“Well, she's had a breakdown,” you said without thinking, blaming poor Donna, blaming her mental illness.

You felt horrible for doing it, but you had no other choice. You didn't know the consequences of your mistress finding out about your affair.

“Gods…” the lady in white whispered, shaking her head. “Poor woman.”

“Um, I decided to stay with her until she was calmer. I hope I didn't overstep my bounds, my lady,” you said in a formal tone, looking down at the wooden floor, with the images of the previous passion sending confusing signals to your head.

“Oh, not at all, dear,” the woman said, with a grateful smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, my lady,” you whispered, wanting to run, to insult yourself for having lied, for having accused the woman you loved of your delay. “Excuse me, my lady, I would like to retire to my room, I fear I have caught a cold,” you lied again, looking for any clumsy excuse to get away from her, from any Dimitrescu who got in your way.

“Of course, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got sick, but... (Y/N), when you are done, I would like to ask you something,” the vampire said, walking faster, confirming that you had gotten what you wanted, to be alone.

“Fine, my lady.”

The bath you took was a blessing. The heat penetrated your body naturally and the water eliminated any remaining evidence of your infidelity.

Feeling the sweat leave you, how her kisses disappeared from your skin in the soapy water was more painful than other times. The lavender disappeared to impose on your skin the sweet aroma of the castle soap, making you forget every single sensation you felt when making love with your lover, her smell, the humidity of her home, the mark of her fingers caressing your skin…

Love, forget, serve, pretend, that was your daily routine. You could only do one thing: wait for the next week, long for Donna's hugs, for her body warming yours.

If you could bear the situation, it was because you knew you would return to her but… for how long? Was Donna right and one day you wouldn’t return?

The days passed slowly, too slowly. What Alcina wanted to ask of you was simple, but you were deeply grateful for it. She wanted you to have the privilege of tidying up the wine cellar, a place where no maid was allowed to enter. Of course, you weren't just any maid.

The task was especially pleasant. While you were down there, you wouldn't have to look askance at the necks of other maids looking for Cassandra's mark on them, and even better: she couldn't bother you.

It was too cold in that place for her to bear, which made your stay down there even comfortable.

But of course, what seemed like an advantage, a respite, a longed-for relief in your daily life, would bring unexpected consequences.

One night, in your privileged room, the atmosphere was heavy with uncertainty and a bad feeling prevented you from thinking about Donna, from longing for her.

“Wakey, wakey…” a shrill, yet whispering voice stalked your ear as a lump slid under the sheets.

The ferrous scent of those lips gave her away and her childish laughter confirmed your fears: Cassandra.

“W-what are you doing here?” you asked, startled by the intrusion, by some uncomfortable kisses that were beginning to run down your neck.

“What? (Y/N), I'm your girlfriend, remember? I've come to see you,” the young Dimitrescu said, sensually dragging her words while she moved the fabric of your pajamas aside to look for more places to play.

“Hey, I don't want to be rude but… why now? Didn't you say you wanted to have fun with other maids?” you asked delicately, without altering or removing her lips from your skin.

“Oh, don't be like that, silly, you know you're special,” Cassandra purred, pulling you a little closer to her.

Your heart was beating fast and your conscience was screaming to be heard.

You didn't know how much time had passed since she got into your bed, since she physically claimed you, but you knew it was enough to affirm that there was no kind of intimacy between you two, not anymore.

That lack of interest in having sex with you relieved Lady Beneviento. Knowing that you would never be physically hers again served as a consolation every time you had to leave. You promised her you would never sleep with Cassandra again.

Of course, to make that promise was a mistake. Chaos couldn’t be predicted, and you should have known that better than anyone.

“So you suddenly remembered that I exist?” you asked again, pushing her away, just as her teeth sank into your skin, making you hiss in pain. “I thought you weren't having fun with me anymore.”

“Don't be a whiner, (Y/N). I want to take you,” she said, climbing on top of your body, dominating you with kisses that weren't reciprocated, at least not voluntarily. “Hey! Why aren't you paying attention to me? Oh, you're not mad because I had fun with Irina, are you?”

“No, but…” you denied nervously, stopping her hands from scratching your skin under your pajamas while her hips moved anxiously. “Listen, Cass, I'm really tired and…”

“What's wrong? Has Mother made you work too much?” the young woman asked, it almost seemed like she cared about you.

“No, not at all, but I would prefer that…” you murmured, fleeing from her kisses and provoking a childish moan from the vampire.

“Hey, don't move! What are you doing? Are you rejecting me?” she asked impatiently, analyzing your gaze as if she could see behind it.

“No, I...” you said, containing the trembling of your body, the irrational fear that direct question and the answer your heart had produced in you.

Even though Donna was your lover and Cassandra was your girlfriend, you didn't feel infidelity in that way. Letting Cassandra take you was much worse than having sex with Donna. It was cheating on the only person who truly mattered to you.

Breaking your promise was for you the worst of deceptions, a betrayal of the doll maker's trust, a true infidelity.

But the pressure of those chaotic eyes looking at you, demanding answers, answers that would please her, made you forget any attempt to refuse and you simply sighed, staying silent.

“That's better, hun, hun,” the young Dimitrescu laughed, amused, breaking the straps of your nightgown with a quick movement and insisting on sucking, licking, biting your skin.

You closed your eyes so as not to see, but you couldn't help but feel. Every scratch, kiss or movement was terribly painful. She was having fun, but you only suffered, you could only think about Donna, that every second that passed, every hysterical moan that came out of Cassandra's lips, was one more stab in Donna's heart.

You could only act in that way, reciprocate, obey and let yourself go.

None of Cassandra's movements unleashed pleasure in you. Her kisses weren’t hot; they didn’t provoke sensations like Donna's did. Cassandra’s fingers inside you didn't feel like Donna’s erection sliding comfortably into your walls.

It was a rough act. You just wanted it to be over soon, for Cassandra to get what she wanted, and leave you alone.

Luckily, she didn't take long.

After noticing her absence, you ran to your private bathroom naked, looking at the marks your girlfriend left on your body, washing your hands, your face, everything her lips had touched. Unlike when you took a bath after seeing Donna, that time you hoped that the smell of blood and Cassandra's perfume would disappear from your skin.

You rubbed your arms, your neck, your lips, but it didn't disappear; she couldn't disappear from you.

Crying, you went back to bed, looking for a new nightgown to spend the night in, searching for some memories with Donna that would make you forget what you had done.

But that wasn't the worst. The worst thing was that the next morning you would have to go back to the Beneviento estate, you would have to see your lover.

You thought you had the strength to do it, to force her to close her eye while she made love to you and ignore the new details of your body.

You knew you couldn't do it, you just knew it.

“I've missed you...” Donna whispered when her arms protected you again, when her lips rested on yours again. “Tesoro...”

“Me too,” you answered, letting that romantic hug comfort your wounded conscience and make you forget what happened the night before. “Um, um... Donna...” you said unsure.

“Mm?” she asked, brushing your hair away from your face as she always did, smiling at having you in her arms again.

“I was thinking… that… that…” you stammered, deciding that maybe you should suppress your desires and not have sex, at least that day. “Well, the other day you told me that you wanted to play chess or teach me your recipes… how about now?”

“I thought that before…” she murmured, looking at you confused, blinking erratically. “I would like to make you mine first, tesoro.”

“Yes, well, I know, but it's that… well, it's that… I'm on those days, you know, and…” you lied without knowing how to do it, causing the lady in black to frown, suspicious of your words.

“Oh, you're talking about your period… I-I don't remember the last time I… well, I…” Donna hesitated nervously, with a slight blush on her cheeks, cheeks that you caressed amused.

“Don't be nervous, my love,” you joked, whispering in her ear, inevitably biting her earlobe. “Just think about it. It will be much better when I come back next week.”

“Mm.” She nodded unsurely, playing with your hair, with an air of disappointment in her eye. “Fine, let's do something different.”

“Good…” you said, sighing in relief, perhaps too relieved. “How about chess?” you proposed, clapping your hands in the air and approaching the corner where you used to have tea.

“Va bene,” the lady answered, smiling distrustfully.

“Hey! Chess? Come on! Let's play hide and seek!” Angie protested, comically tugging at your dress as you walked.

“Angie, lasciala estare,” her owner ordered, making the doll cross her arms with a snort.

“Hey! What happened to you?” Angie asked, pointing at you, pointing at your neck.

The puppet's tugs had shifted your uniform dangerously, revealing a red mark on your neck, one you wanted to hide.

“For Gods’ sake, Angie, shut up...” you growled, moving your clothes to hide the mark, something that of course didn't deter Donna from slowly approaching, removing the fabric again with a moan of shock.

“What's that?” she asked.

“What's what?” you asked back, nervous.

“I-it was her, wasn't it? She wasn't supposed to touch you anymore,” Donna murmured, clenching her fists on either side of her hips. “You promised me she wouldn't touch you anymore!”

You closed your eyes, feeling the pain of guilt, the sadness of a broken promise.

“Donna, it's not what it seems, I…”

“It's exactly what it seems, (Y/N),” she said, hissing, getting dangerously close to you and grabbing your arm tightly. “You fucked her.”

Vulgar words didn't usually come out of her mouth, Lady Beneviento was losing her mind, and that time, she was right.

“You don't understand, it's not what you think, I don't…”

“Lie to me again, come on,” Donna threatened, with a hatred in her gaze that made you shudder.

“What did you want me to do?” you protested, crossing your arms, letting a childish defensive attitude take over you. “Do you think I had another option?”

“There's always another option,” she added, shaking her head. “You told me that there was nothing physical between you two anymore.”

“You don't understand, Donna.”

“I don't understand? You've fucked her, you promised me that...”

“You think it's easy?! Huh?!” you yelled, frantic. “What right do you have to judge what I do? You don't know how things are.”

Donna laughed sarcastically, with her eye wide open and her knuckles white from the pressure.

“You're right, I don't know how things are, I don't know what happens when you leave, when you go with her,” the lady in black murmured, pointing at you with her finger, her breathing becoming more and more agitated. “But it's quite clear.”

She turned her back on you, but you grabbed her shoulder, which was pushed away with a grunt and a quick movement from the brunette. You desperately tried to reassure her, to make her understand that the night when Cassandra played with you didn't mean anything.

“Listen to me, Donna, please,” you said in a less brusque, more pleading tone. “It didn't mean anything, I didn't enjoy it, I didn't want to, I…”

“Shut up! Cazzo… shut up, shut up, shut up!” Donna shrieked as she kicked the floor furiously.

“Donna, you're scaring me,” you sighed, moving away from her little by little. “If you'd just let me explain…”

“I don't want to hear your explanations!” she shrieked again. “You've deceived me, you're a bitch.”

Anger and helplessness forced you to act irrationally, slapping the lady in black, causing a painful silence to reign in the old house.

“Shit, I…” you said regretfully, trying to get closer to her again. “I didn't mean to, I couldn't… Donna, I…”

The words tried to come out of your mouth, but you weren't successful, you had reached a dangerous limit, you were walking on the edge of a cliff, and the only hand that could save you was further away than ever.

Donna stared at you, mouth agape, with a hand on her cheek, without saying anything, transmitting all her hatred with a look, one that you would never, ever forget.

“Get out of my house,” the lady murmured, looking away from you while you looked at your hand, shaking your head. “Sei una bugiarda! I don't want to see you again!”

“Donna, please, listen to me, I beg you,” you pleaded, grabbing her shaking arm, being pushed away by a rough push that almost made you lose your balance.

“Don't touch me, bitch,” she hissed in an even darker voice. “You broke your promise... Get out of my house! Get out, get out, get out!”

“Donna, Gods...” you sobbed, shaking your head as she walked towards you threateningly.

It was the first time you were afraid of her, truly afraid.

“Donna, please...” you stammered, being grabbed by the arm and letting yourself be led towards the exit.

The lady pushed you, making you fall into the snow.

“Donna! Don't treat her like that! You're stupid, listen to her!” Angie protested, hiding behind a piece of furniture, avoiding the wrath of her owner.

“I thought we were something, that I was something to you,” the lady in black growled, with her hair moved by the winter wind, while you checked that you hadn't been hurt.

“You are, I, I love you...” you said with difficulty, shaking the snow off your body. “Donna, I love you.”

“Liar! Liar, liar, liar!” the lady screamed, stamping her feet again, out of her mind, completely mad, slamming the door shut with a thunderous noise that echoed in the mountains.

“Donna…” you sobbed, tears warming your cheeks.

Just as you expected, it was all over. You had broken your promise, you had condemned yourself to a life without Donna, without the only thing that kept you fighting, and it was all because of you, because of the fear of being brave, of confronting Cassandra, of asking the lady in black to take you in her arms, and rescue you.

That fleeting thought that maybe Donna would come for you, to fight for you, was the last hope that kept you going the following days, but she wasn't going, she wasn't there, there was only you, alone, with a woman who didn't love you, with the only one who did betrayed by your lies, by an infidelity that Donna wouldn't be able to forgive.

“Remember to label the wine correctly, (Y/N),” Alcina said, on one of the endless afternoons in the winery.

What was once a refuge became a prison, one in which you would be alone, far from Cassandra, but with your thoughts and regrets as your only company.

You were no longer the same. Your complexion had turned pale, dark circles adorned your sickly presence, since, at night, your only protection against your girlfriend was to keep the window open, to let the cold in.

Over time you became a ghost of what you were, the ghost of another ghost, a long and sad shadow that didn’t want to see the light if Donna was not next to you.

Alcina's soft voice caught your attention, but unfortunately you could only emit a sad sob. It was getting harder and harder for you to pretend, to act as if you hadn't lost anything, as if everything you wanted and needed was in that castle, and not behind the forest, in the old Beneviento Estate.

“Yes, my lady,” you murmured, earning a serious look from the lady in white, who left a bottle on the table, walking towards you slowly, threateningly.

“My dear... I can't help but feel that something is wrong with you,” she said in a low voice, putting a large hand on your shoulder, forcing you to hide the tear that was welling up in one of your eyes.

“No, my lady, everything is fine,”

No, nothing was fine. Without Donna, nothing would ever be fine.

“You lie terribly,” Alcina sighed shaking her head and pulling your wrist to bring you closer to her. “Gods, look at those dark circles under your eyes, you look awful, dear.”

“I'm sorry, my lady.”

“Tell me (Y/N), has Cassandra done something bad to you?” she asked, making you be alert again.

She had never asked such a thing, your nerves were about to explode.

“Of course not, my lady,” you answered with a false smile, which tightened her grip even more while she frowned, knowing, being convinced that, again, you were lying.

“You know I hate lies, young lady, now, you are going to dry your tears and tell me…”

“Sorry, my lady,” a saving voice appeared in the cellar, making the lady of the castle growl, making her finally let you go.

“Damn it, Olga, you know that you are completely forbidden to come down here,” Alcina protested, putting her hands on her hips.

“I'm sorry, my lady, but it's just that…” the girl apologized, looking down, with her hands shaking in front of her body.

“It's just that what!?” your mistress shouted, echoing off the old walls, causing you to automatically shrink.

“Lady Beneviento is here, my lady,” the maid explained, as best she could, with her voice trembling, just like her body.

Lady Beneviento. That name made you look up quickly, your eyes suddenly opened and you let out an involuntary gasp that caught Alcina's attention for a moment, making her look at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Donna,” you whispered.

Luckily, you managed to avoid your boss's inquisitive gaze by turning around and pretending to place the bottles correctly.

“Gods, why did it take you so long to say it? You are more and more useless every day,” the tall woman protested, rubbing her eyes with contempt.

“Sorry, my lady,” Olga apologized again, pointing to the stairs. “What do I do?”

“What?” Alcina insisted, with an arrogant tone. “Has she told you what she wants?”

“W-Well, her doll was talking about some unfinished business but…” the maid murmured, making you freeze in place.

Had she come for you? Would that be possible? No, it couldn't be, she hated you. She kicked you out of her house…

“Oh, I understand,” the lady in white sighed, with a soft laugh, but looking at you out of the corner of her eye again. “Always so shy… Gods, what does it cost her to call me to say that she wants to have dinner with me? Anyway, tell the others to prepare food for one more person.”

“Yes, my lady”

“And you… go for a dress, dear, we have visitors,” she said looking at you with a different sparkle in her eyes.

“My lady, I…” you said trembling, not wanting to face Donna, not wanting to be in her presence. Not in that castle, not where she would never be yours. “I would rather not disturb and…”

“Nonsense, you are family, dear. Go on, be good and put on something nice, I am convinced that Donna is very happy to see her… errand girl…” she said with her usual irony, one that you mistook for an accusation, making you feel guilty.

You had no choice but to obey, you couldn’t do anything else.

There, in the dining room, there she was: Donna, covered with her black veil, following you with her gaze while you sat in front of her, asking with your eyes, wanting to know the reason for her unexpected presence.

The Angie doll, unlike her owner, had no problem greeting you effusively.

“See, silly? We've come... Hey, what happened to you? You look like a ghost,” the puppet whispered to you in an indiscreet manner, but just before you could ask or speak, the three Dimitrescu sisters appeared next to their mother.

“Hello, hello...” Cassandra sang while the others politely greeted their aunt. “But what do we have here, my elusive girlfriend... It seems that you can't escape from me today, huh?”

As she spoke, your blood boiled more and more, her unconsented touch on your cheeks made you burn with pain, with shame, while she sat on your lap hastily, without the slightest decorum, kissing you passionately in front of your lover.

It couldn't be worse.

“Ahem, Cassandra, darling, show some decorum, will you?” Alcina corrected, causing the young woman to wink at you and stand up, letting you see how Donna tightly gripped her fork, and how Angie tried to soften the pressure.

You’d had awkward dinners, but that one, without a doubt, was the worst of all.

If it weren't for Alcina's pleasant chat with her sister, everything would be silent. You knew that Donna wasn't paying attention. She only saw how Cassandra made fun of you by feeding you dinner with evil laughter, or speaking to you in indiscreet whispers about what she was going to do to you as soon as Donna left.

The sound of a piece of cutlery falling to the floor interrupted that tense calm. Donna had dropped her spoon and you, as helpful as ever, bent down to pick it up under the table.

You discreetly handed her the fallen object, realizing that there was something in her hand, something she left in yours and that you squeezed tightly.

A note, or so it seemed. You didn't know what it contained, what it meant, whether it was an explanation, an apology, or an insult. You were dying to know, but you couldn't, not with Cassandra beside you.

Your brain worked very hard to ignore her non-consensual assault on your privacy, focusing on the best way to find out what that piece of paper contained.

Okay, the idea was stupid, but it was the best you could come up with given the circumstances.

“Oh, wow,” you said falsely, regretting having let the glass of wine spill on your formal dress.

You were a terrible actress.

“Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom,” you said hastily, abruptly removing Cassandra's hand from your leg and getting up from the table.

Nervous, you ran through the halls, pretending to wash yourself so as not to raise suspicions until, finally, you opened that paper.

I have come to fight for you, to take you home in my arms, amore mio.

I don’t want, nor can, live without you

I love you

You read it once, and again, and again. The smile lit up your dull face when you understood what Donna was doing in the castle.

At last, because of Angie or her own conscience, she had come to her senses. Donna had understood that you needed her, that you never wanted to hurt her.

It didn't mean that she had forgiven you for having cheating on her, but it was a written proof of what she felt for you. She would not give up easily and she had found the courage to fight for you, even risking invading Cassandra's territory.

“Oh, Donna...” you whispered, pressing the note to your chest. “Donna, Donna, Donna…”

The sound of distant footsteps brought you out of your euphoria. Was it her? Could you finally love her, really be hers?

“Donna?” you asked out loud, getting the echo of your voice as an answer.

“Mm, no,  wrong,” a mocking voice said, one you knew, one that made you quickly put the note in your pocket. “Are you blind?”

“Cass, I…” you said as you saw your girlfriend licking her lips, coming closer while laughing, like a predator stalking its prey.

“If you wanted to see me, you didn’t have to stain that pretty dress.”

“It was an accident,” you lied, moving away from claws that were going straight for your waist. “We should go back.”

“Why the rush? It was a very lucky accident, don't you think?” she purred, forcing you to crash against the wall, with no option to escape. “Mother and the others are busy with Aunt Donna, so... well, you and I can play...”

Her tongue on your neck burned like a hot iron. The love you felt for Donna forced you to feel disgust for your girlfriend's actions. No, she wasn't going to get what she wanted that time, not when you were so close to getting the life you deserved, a life with Donna.

“No,” you said in a whisper, opening your eyes and standing firm.

“Excuse me?” Cassandra questioned, as if you had said something extraordinary, something she never thought she would hear from your lips.

“I said… No!” you screamed, pushing your girlfriend back, forcing her to step back sharply with her eyes wide open.

“What!?” she screamed angrily. “What do you mean by no? Listen, you silly girl, you are my girlfriend and…”

“No, not anymore,” you hissed. “I'm sick of you… of you making fun of me every day. It's over…”

“Why do you say those mean things to me? You don't have to… You can't say those things to me!” Cassandra yelled kicking the ground angrily, like a capricious child.

“It's over, Cassandra,” you said confidently, holding the note tightly in your hands, gaining all the courage you never thought you had.  “You are a spoiled, pampered and capricious brat… you think you have the right to play with people, with their feelings… well, I'll tell you one thing… You won’t play with me anymore!” you said furiously, trembling with fear, but without faltering.

“How dare you…” the young Dimitrescu hissed in a dangerous tone, her gaze darkening more and more. “Well, I've been very patient with you, pet. Do you think I don't know that you leave your window open to avoid me, to laugh at me? You can't avoid me! You're my girlfriend! You're mine!”

“I'll never be yours!” you shouted back, with all your strength.

Those words were too much for the young woman, who approached roughly grabbing you by the collar of your dress, almost lifting you into the air.

“You're going to pay for it, pet… You're going to…!” she shrieked, raising her hand, about to punish you for your insolence.

Something prevented her from completing her action, a pale hand wrapped around her wrist, preventing her from moving, Donna’s hand.

The lady in black appeared to save you, pushing your now ex-girlfriend away from you with a furious growl.

“Donna!” you sobbed in the middle of a desperate cry.

“What are you doing? Stay out of this, Aunt Donna,” Cassandra said surprised, to which your lover paid no attention, walking quickly towards you and cupping your face in her hands.

“Tesoro... are you okay? Did she hurt you?” the lady whispered, checking your condition while you clung to her, shedding a sea of ​​tears on her shoulder.

“I'm fine, I'm fine because you came... you came for me...” you said sobbing, finding the comfort you so lacked, the pleasant warmth of her arms.

“Of course I came... Oddio... I'm so sorry... I behaved like a fool...” she whispered in your ear, melting into you in a sincere, strong, safe embrace.

“Hey! What's going on here?” Cassandra asked, with a disgusted look at you. “What the hell…? Oh, no, it can't be true…”

“Get away from her, I won't repeat it,” Donna threatened, placing you behind her body in a protective gesture.

“You? Are you trying to snatch what's mine? Mother!” the young woman shouted, moving nervously and trying to grab you again. “You bitch… you've been cheating on me! Now you'll really pay for this and…!”

The lady in black moved quickly, pushing the young Dimitrescu aside and slapping her with a blow that left everything silent, lost in the echo of the walls.

“But, but…” Cassandra protested, incredulous at what had just happened. “You hit me!”

The sound of fast heels alerted you. Of course, that commotion alerted the lady of the castle, who was running towards you, causing a sinister smile to appear on Cassandra's wounded face.

“Mother, mother, come, come!” her daughter shrieked with childish satisfaction, pointing at you. “Aunt Donna hit me.”

Alcina looked at you briefly, studying the arms that held you, your tears, with a cold face.

“Now you are going to pay for what you have done... you are going to... Ah!” Another slap crossed the young vampire's face, but it wasn’t Donna's, but her own mother's. “Mother?”

“You stupid spoiled brat...” Alcina hissed, with her teeth grinding, with a visceral hatred towards her own daughter. “How dare you treat a girl like that?”

“What? But, but, but she…” Cassandra protested, embarrassed and terrified.

“Oh, come on, do you think I'm stupid? I know perfectly well what you were doing to poor (Y/N). Tell me, girl, what have I done wrong with you? Haven’t I educated you on how to treat ladies?”

“But…”

“Silence!” Dimitrescu shrieked, making you shrink even further into the arms of your lover, who remained stoic, ready to protect you. “Gods… (Y/N), are you okay?” she asked in a motherly tone, but visibly upset.

You simply nodded, moving away from the hand that rested on your shoulder.

“Mother, it's not fair,” Cassandra protested, with tears in her eyes, tugging at her mother's dress.

“Shut your mouth and get out of my sight! It's clear that you need new lessons… Until then, you're grounded! Go away!” the matriarch shrieked, pointing down the hallway, where the young woman, turned into a tangle of flies, fled in terror.

The tall woman sighed and seemed to calm down, turning her gaze towards you and sighing exhaustedly.

“Donna, how disappointing…” she said in a kind but accusatory tone. “I must confess that I never imagined that you, of all people, would be capable of such a thing…”

The lady in black didn’t respond, she simply hugged you tighter. She wasn’t going to let you go, she would never let you go again.

“And you…” the lady in white said. “Oh, my dear… how could you? Cheating on my daughter with Donna… no, no, no, that is not right, my dear…”

“My lady, I…” you stammered as best you could, with a sore throat, with your heart about to explode.

“Shut up,” Alcina ordered you. “You are fired. Take your things and get out of my castle… Oh, and Donna, I'm sure you won't waste the chance to have a maid like her, will you?”

You both looked at each other. You didn't know if Donna was smiling, but you were; your face regained its full brightness when you realized what was happening.

Alcina wasn't firing you, she was setting you free, allowing you, and Donna, to form the life together you dreamed of so much. It was all too good to be true; you even feared it was just a dream.

But as you left the castle in her arms, in Donna's arms, as she promised you, knowing that you wouldn't come back, that you would finally be free to be with her, you realized that it wasn't a dream, but reality, a reality you finally wanted to be in.

[bunny-jpeg]

hiii could i pls get hocus pocus rolls, pumpkin patch brownies and a dead velvet cake with a side of doctor pepper, white claw, pepsi zero and a gummy bear cocktail served by lando?? love ur fics!!

halloween bakery - bakery menu

the halloween menu is available until nov 2nd! so get those orders in during the meantime! thank you to everyone who has submitted, i'm trying to get them done in a timely manner! writing these prompts has allowed me to help manage some of my seasonal depression & chronic pains.

hocus pocus rolls: "next year you're wearing something that covers more." + pumpkin patch brownies: "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold." + dead velvet cake: "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!" + doctor pepper: university au + white claw: slutty costumes + pepsi zero: rough sex + gummy bear cocktail: possessive behavior served by lando norris (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, university au, slutty costumes, possessive behavior, rough sex, football (soccer) player!lando, protected sex, missionary style

"it's so cold tonight!" you yelped as you walked with your boyfriend to the house that he lived in with the rest of the football team. even though you were wearing a light jacket, the wind cut through it.

lando had a possessive hand on your lower back as the two of you walked across campus as the sun went down. he pulled at the back of the jacket a little and said, "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold."

"well, they said it was going to be plus ten, so i thought this would be enough!"

lando remarked, "i think it would've been fine if you didn't wear such a thin costume." he gave your ass a quick squeeze, feeling the cheap material of the outfit under his palm.

lando knew the costume was slutty. how could he not? the jacket you wore couldn't cover up just how much that costume revealed. you were dressed as a cheerleader this year, and while that was a fantasy for lando. he would've preferred if the outfit wasn't being pranced around the house.

he was on the couch during the party. he was dressed in his football uniform and that was his 'costume' with his windbreaker jacket over it. he eyed you up and down as you chatted and drank. you looked cute. adorable even. your charm pulled people in.

there was a knock on the door and you went to answer it. your heels clicked against the hardwood floor but was drowned out by the loud music. lando got up from the couch and was close behind you. when you opened the door to hand out candy to those not invited to the party. he wrapped you up in his jacket.

"lando!" you yelped as the mini chocolate bars fell out of your hand

"next year you're wearing something that covers more." he then pulled you away from the door which caused you to flail as the candy fell from your hands, "you look too good, babe. i think that's enough for their eyes." he said as he hauled you upstairs.

you swore you heard lando's teammate, oscar, laugh over the thump of the music. you whined, "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!"

when lando got you to the bedrooms upstairs, he wrapped his strong arms around you, "someone else can do it. let the captain or someone else. i don't care. i just need you right now." he said. it was hard to hide an erection in those shorts.

lando's room was nice, but you had little time to admire the photos of you he had pinned to the wall before you were on the bed. you bounced on it as you fell on top of it. your breasts bounced and it only made lando more hungry for you.

"there's my little cheerleader." he said as he cupped his cock in his shorts, "you come to every game with my number across your pretty tits. you wear my last name like its yours." he chuckled before he pulled the jersey top off, "you hoping for a ring after graduation."

you blushed and wanted to push him away, but he pulled you in closer. you giggled when he kissed you, "i think you're buying ring before i can even think about it." you reached down and touched his cock in his shorts before they were pulled off and sent to the ground.

he chuckled before his lips touched your neck, "well, when you're my wife. this little outfit will be for my eyes only. i don't need all of the school to have their eyes on you. hungry like animals." you moaned when his kisses continued.

lando knew how to make you feel good, the kind of toe curling feeling that made it very easy for him to get you out of your costume. at least he didn't tear the thing off of you! his kisses continued as his clothed cock brushed against you. you knew he was painfully erect.

"my angel." he said, "prettiest girl on campus. fuck, you drive me crazy." he groaned a little bit when he eventually got his briefs off and let him rubbed his achy cock against you, "you have no idea how crazy you drive me."

you moaned, "please, lando."

you knew what everyone adored your boyfriend, he was great at what he did on the field and in the classroom. but he only had eyes for you, he yearned for you as his hands trailed up your sides. you were both naked on his bed, not the first time that had happened. but every time you were intimate with your boyfriend it felt special.

"i want you, i want you to badly." he got you onto your back and hiked your hips up against him where you wrapped your legs around his waist. he leaned forward and grabbed a condom from nightstand. you two had to play it safe, you were both still in school.

you replied, "i love you."

"i love you too, fuck, you look too perfect in the costume. i didn't know something could fit you so well." he chuckled as he leaned back a little to get the condom on.

you felt anticipation run through you as you laid out under him. you admired him. his toned body and bright smile. you could make out the pink in his cheeks from the immense pleasure between you two. to be fucking in the quietness of his bedroom while there was a party outside.

"i don't want you to have anyone else." he said as he gave his cock a few strokes to make sure the condom was on there securely. he then loomed over you with his hands at your hips as he sank his cock into you. your toes curled and your back arched at the feeling of him.

you held onto the covers under you, the same covers that you picked out for him. the soft blue that went with the minimal decor of his bedroom.

lando loved you and respected opinions you had, even if it was something simple like a nice bed spread. because at the end of the day, he still got to fuck you against the covers. the bed squeaked a little bit and lando realized that he had to slow his pace down. but where he lacked in speed, he made up in strength. and he roughly fucked you, slowly, making you feel every inch of him as he buried over seven inches inside of your achy cunt.

he needed you just as much as you needed him. he felt like a winner when he played with you in the stands. you watched him put his all into football and you loved him dearly. he never though he'd get that with anyone else. so that was why he was so possessive at times. he didn't want to lose you, you were everything to him.

and you dressed as a slutty cheerleader wasn't soothing the growl in lando's soul as he rutted against you. you were just so beautiful and the words hung on his tongue, but he couldn't say the words as the feeling of pleasure rushed through his body.

"such a pretty girl." he said as he rocked against you. he loved the feeling of your legs around his waist, he thrusted up into you and you felt amazing.

the pace was rough enough that it made the curl of pleasure bloom in your gut. you knew only lando could make you feel this good, make your core throb with want as he fucked you. your noises got a little louder but lando leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

no need to cause a scene at the party tonight. but, lando knew that at the very least oscar knew what you two were up to. you moaned against the kiss and wrapped your arms around him as he worked your body further. you shifted under his grip on you which only spurred him on further to make a mess of your pretty pussy.

"you look so good under me." he said, "no other guy can have you like this. only me." he chuckled a little, his voice tight from the pleasure as he worked his hips against you. you groaned a little louder as you clung to him, "part of me wants them to know, to all know exactly how you make me feel.

his words curled something in you and you felt the jump of lust inside of you. the pleasure coursed through you as the two of you fucked on the bed. your costumes were left discarded to be picked up in the morning. if you left the room before the party was over, you'd be wearing lando's clothes. not that slutty costume.

"please, lando." you whined as the pleasure worked through you. you knew from the first time he made you cum with his fingers and tongue alone that you'd be in for a world of pleasure with your boyfriend by your side.

"i always make you feel good, babe." he said with tenderness in his voice. he continued to fuck you, he grabbed your hips once more and hiked them up further to get a better angle of your sweet cunt.

the pace staggered, and the pace quickened despite the noise. it didn't help that the two of you were getting louder as you approached your climax. he whispered filthy nothings into your ear, about how hot you looked and how good he wanted to make you feel. it allowed the heat to bloom in your core as you felt orgasm wash over you.

you whined and arched you back, before you could get too loud, your ever loving boyfriend kissed you on the lips tightly. he continued to move against you, heavy, rough strokes that left you feeling on cloud nine. he came soon after with a heavy stroke and you both felt amazing.

"shit, babe."

you both laid out on the bed while the thump of the music downstairs reverberated through the bedroom. you both laid in each other's grasp and softly kissed. lando had gotten rid of the condom already and you two just laid under the covers together.

eventually you heard a knock on the door and oscar's voice, "hey, mate. party's wrapping up, i know you're busy with your girlfriend, but we need all the man power can get to get everyone out."

lando looked at you and kissed you on the cheek before he got out of bed to get dressed. before he left the room he said to you, "stay here, and don't put that costume on unless you want to limp back to your dorm tomorrow." and gave you a wink <3

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING GREEN !!! CHARLES L. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: it was his turn to play once, and now he has to beg too.

content warning: use of explicit language, smut under the cut (minors dni!), sub!charles, themes of jealousy and friends with benefits, brief descriptions of oral sex (m receiving), possessive!reader, not filthy enough… i think, pwp

note: i really should be writing my papers rn. enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

his eyes weren’t the only greens that made their presence known in the party tonight. no, it was also not just the dress that she had slipped on in hopes of catching his attention and taking him back to her place. 

her emotions were, in fact, turning into a form of jealousy as she watched him dancing with some other girl on the dance floor. her eyes forming into a heavy scowl as she sipped on her daiquiri, watching as charles smirked at her and attached himself to a stranger while they dirty danced.

he was having too much fun with someone else as if he hadn’t done called her to his room the other day only to dominate her.

he was acting like this and she had no control over that; he wasn’t hers after all. they were nothing but “friends” who casually fucked each other’s brains out as a pastime.

but then again… if they were friends, then he wouldn’t have marked her neck until she couldn’t go on a date with some stranger from an app, right? he wouldn’t have done that knowing that she had a date a day or two after— that those marks would last longer than intended. friends don’t do shit like that. 

if they were friends, then maybe… maybe she’d make him realize that she, too, could mark him to the next week— so he wouldn’t go to that date that their stupid friends set him up to because “he needs to get laid.” 

it was his time to play once, but they were taking turns— and it was now hers. 

“ngh~ amour,” his voice croaked as his mouth gaped open, feeling her mouth wrapped around his cock as she hummed. the bassy vibration around his cock made him whimper in desperation. the urge to cum was just there and she was torturing him. “‘m gonna—“

he whined quietly when her mouth pulled away with a ‘pop’, her hand replacing her mouth as she wrapped it around the base of his cock. she firmly said, “keep your eyes on me, charles.” 

“i ca- c—“

“sure you can,” she laughed. if he could even think right now, he would’ve said that she wasn’t like this days ago. she was an angel begging for him to let her cum days ago— and now she was a vixen who wanted him to die a slow death. 

she continued to give his tip kitten licks as he whined. “i want you to look at me so you know who’s the only person that can make you feel like this.” 

“i- amour,” he whimpered, urging himself to open his eyes as he peered down at her. his adam’s apple bobbing when he caught sight of the lust and possessiveness that washed through her features. 

her tongue traced over the saliva that dripped down his cock, eyes still trained on his hazy green ones before her gaze trailed down his purple-marked chest and abdomen. she had too much fun nipping at his body that she hadn’t realized the difference between marking him and seeing the aftermath of it. 

“so beautiful,” she murmured quietly, stroking him continuously as she gave him a mocking pitiful look. “quite a shame that others would see you like this.”

“n- no,” he shook his head frantically, his brain short circuiting and heart desperately wanting her as he babbled, “no- no one’s seen m- me. no o- one will. i promise, m- mon amour-“ 

“that right?” she teased, her hand moving up for her thumb to rub on his tip as she continued, “what about the lady earlier? you were so ready to give it to her, charles— as if you’d already forgotten about me.”

“no! she- i- wan’ to make you jealous,” he whimpered, his eyes shutting closed again as his head dropped back at the pleasure. “ple- please, amour~ i want to be inside you.” 

“oh? you wanted to make me jealous?” her eyes darkened a little before leaning up to him and giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. “you sure did. you sure made me jealous...” 

she sunk back to her knees and said, “and i’m going to make sure you wouldn’t have to do it again. after all, nobody would be able to see you in this state if it isn’t me, hm?” 

she let her mouth devour his cock once more, bobbing up and down as charles moaned aloud, begging for her to let him cum inside her as sounds of squelching escaped her mouth and dribbles of saliva fell down her chin. he was writhing under her, and he was too fucked out to even say anything— he loved it. 

he loved her.

if she was going to be this controlling in bed, then he might as well continue to make her jealous. at least now he knew that she wanted him to want her and her alone.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

hiya not sure if you still write for got? id love me a petyr baelish story where shes the oldest sister to the baratheon kids and sneaks around with petyr? like shes constantly toying with him, annoying him and keeping him on his toes and he just loves it. nobody knows because cersei and jaime would so have his head. she enjoys when he breaks because she gets cuddles with the most dangerous man of kings landing afterwards and he does answer her every beg and call while keeping her under his protection and making his schemes. so he quietly takes care of assassins targeting her or just people he overhears talking shit about her? tysm <3

I've never written for Petyr Baelish before but i like this prompt so i'll give it a shot :)

Pairing: Petyr Baelish x Baratheon!Reader

Warnings: age gap

Words: 1949

He watches you, always watching you flittering around the Red Keep with your long, dark curls swaying around your shoulders as you giggle and gab like a proper princess. Bright, colorful sways of your skirt kicking up in a fury when you and your ladies run late for your lessons. Even when you were seated, there was always energy vibrating around you, like your vibrant soul couldn't be contained by your mortal vessel. Mannerisms akin to a hummingbird.

To the court, you were Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister's perfect first born child. Unfortunately you were born a girl, thus excluded from the Iron Throne but that was fine. You would shine brightly either way, with or without the throne of melted swords of enemies past. At least this granted you more liberty to do what you pleased.

And what you liked to do most seemed to be toying with Lord Baelish's self restraint and patience.

Down in the courtyard you had the odd feeling that someone was watching you. The same sensation you got every time Petyr Baelish was in the vicinity. You had a sixth sense for him. Immediately your gaze snaps upward just in time to catch the figure of Littlefinger disappearing behind a stone column.

You grin to yourself.

Court was insufferable for the most part. Yes, you were allowed to do whatever you wanted while all focus was put on your terrible brother Joffrey since he was essentially Robert's heir (gods help you all when Joffrey does become king).

One thing you'd found to pass the time was playing with Petyr. You'd had a sort of crush on the man since coming of age, finding his quiet disposition alluring (not to mention he had quite the charming face). And being the child of both Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister, you ultimately possessed a confidence that egged you on in your antics. Petyr knew the time of young woman you were. There were many in his brothel who were aware of their good looks and talents and it went straight to their heads.

You simply couldn't help yourself when you so happen to find a seat next to him. Your hand falling underneath the table and perching itself on his knee. His fine jaw clenching when he feels the warmth of your palm spread like fire upon his clothed knee. Fire that seared his bones, taking no time in consuming his whole skeletal frame with a desire for you to move your hand closer to what was really screaming for your attention.

Littlefinger felt the hangman's noose around his neck.

If word were to get out and betray him, Robert Baratheon could easily request his head. The king's retribution wasn't all Petyr feared. Ser Jaime Lannister, your uncle, was always on your guard. Keeping his well trained eyes roving for any threats that may come toward his nieces way. And it was known Ser Jaime didn't allow anyone to take a step toward you without his permission. Your mother, Cersei, was equally protective of her first born. To her, there wasn't a man who was good enough for you.

While he was a valuable asset, that gave him no liberties when it came to the princess. You were first born and the only one of your siblings who really received the king's attention. Maybe it was because you were the only one who came out with dark hair like the king. It could be a number of reasons why Robert simply found you endearing. It was an easy thing to fall in love with you.

Which is why Petyr did little to discourage your behavior.

He certainly didn't mind how your greeting toward him had changed from a casual hello to you kiss his cheek. Catching when you'd softly inhale his scent. You'd bring up the memory of his scent when you were alone in bed. Coming upon one another in corridors, you'd brush up against him. Fingers sneakily graze against his arm as you pass without looking at him. Purposefully putting a pop in your hips as you retreated.

Caution in games like this were required in order for him to keep his head. Petyr kept you at arm's length yet within his sight.

That was not enough for you.

You knew of the secret tunnels all through out King's Landing. The schedule of your guards was etched into your memory. And you also happened to have previously stalked Petyr on a few occasions to get a feel of his daily routine. One day you left your chambers, the knights outside your door none the wiser and went out in search of Littlefinger.

You caught him as he left the Small Council meeting room. The second he walks past your hiding spot, your hand shoots out and grabs his arm; yanking him into the dark chasm.

Completely taking him by surprise, he's about to struggle against you until he hears your voice whisper his name. When he inhales to reprimand you instead you capture his lips hastily before he could escape from your grip.

This may be your only chance to do so. You'd caught his stares many times and thought he reciprocated the attraction.

When you pulled away, you wait for his reaction and try to tame your wildly beating heart. Your eyes are somewhat adjusted to the inky black of the secret passage but making out the features of his face were difficult.

Slowly his hands descend on your hips and finally draws you close to his body. One hand lifts to your face, tilting your jaw upwards so he could be the one to initiate another scorching kiss. He near smothers you against him, aching for you to be closer to him. You managed to do what very little people could ever hope to accomplish: having Littlefinger surrender to their whim.

With that, the game was truly on and the dye cast.

You'd left him stumped after the kiss as you proceeded to push him back out with a giggle and slam the hidden door shut. Petyr's heart was thumping so hard it rattled him to the core. For so many years he thought the only person who'd be able to get such a reaction from him was Catelyn. His heart had always been her's though she made it very clear that she would not have him. Now he finds that you have leashed up his attention like a loyal dog tethered to you.

He was titillated.

From then on you upped your mischief around him. Became emboldened from that kiss for it gave you the answer of Petyr desiring you as much as you desired him.

More than that, you wedged your way into his personal life; his true life of secrets and planning. The wonderful mechanisms of his conniving brain. That only made him more attractive to you. It wasn't brute power Petyr wield, not like the knights who primp and preen around you or the pathetic young lords your father hoped to marry you off to.

No one knew that the most dangerous man in King's Landing sat beside them, sharing a simple meal with a brilliant mind they would never be able to comprehend. They were all fools.

Your antics didn't always please Petyr. Sometimes they irritated every last nerve when he was trying to save face in front of others. In the privacy of his chambers though, he'd only halfheartedly reprimand you once you start planting kisses all over his face.

"Forgive me." You'd mewl into his ear, hands digging into the expensive fabric of his clothes.

He could never stay mad at you.

Petyr would concede the moment your plush lips land on the corner of his mouth. Even worse was when you'd envelope him in your arms, hold him close to you as you cherish a moment alone together in a simple cuddle. Who would have thought that syrupy sweet embraces were the branding irons that scorched your name in his heart.

You hardly ask anything of him and when you do, Petyr leaps for the opportunity to please his beloved princess. No task was too small or too big to Littlefinger. Whatever you wanted, he'd make sure you got it. Another prominent lady of the realm slighted you? Petyr would make sure that her house crumbled to the ground so that she and her family were reduced to beggars. Some pathetic lord being a creep around you? You needn't even say anything for Lord Baelish is already planning on the man's demise.

You were his. Whether he was allowed to put a claim on you or not didn't matter to Petyr. Petyr was a greedy man and didn't like any other man giving you special attention.

Being Master of Coin, he was even able to deter Robert from marrying you off as you were considered of marrying age and eligible lords were already hounding the king for your hand. That may have been the most difficult task to achieve since the flow of suitors was nonstop. All wanted close to the Iron Throne. They didn't care about you. Not like Petyr did. You were his goddess, his muse, his everything. Since being enthralled by you Petyr hadn't given Catelyn a second thought. May she rot in the North with her surly lord.

"What's this?" You inquire, delight shining in your eyes when you examine the beautifully carved box Petyr hands to you when the two of you next meet up in his apartments. You're sitting so pretty on his lap, the complete picture of comfort.

You didn't have to do anything to make Petyr's heart squeeze with adoration. How was he so lucky to have a pretty girl like you on his lap?

He taps on the top of the box. "Open and find out for yourself."

Puffing out your cheeks in faux annoyance, you do so. Smile broadening across your face. "Oh Petyr, its beautiful." You lift the choker styled necklace out of the small box to better admire it. pearls composed most of the necklace with the center piece taking shape of a small bird with a long beak among pink, yellow and green gems.

"Do you like it?" He's smiling to himself as he watches you.

"I love it!" You're practically singing and push the necklace into his hands. "Put it on for me, will you?"

"Whatever my princess desires." Petyr chuckles and easily clasps the necklace around your pretty neck. Placing a small kiss at the nape of your hair.

You hop off of his lap and rush over to the closest mirror to admire yourself. Catching his warm gaze from the mirror, you smile softly. "Why a hummingbird, Petyr? Why not a mockingbird?"

"Too obvious, my love. That and I don't see you as a mockingbird."

"Oh?"

Petyr stands and though his stature is not very tall, he still commands confidence. "No. You arise joy in everyone who comes across you." His hands find their spot upon your hips. "Many pray for the opportunity to catch you standing still."

You lean against him, using your own hands to guide one of his across the plane of your stomach. "And I have such lovely plumage too."

That makes him genuinely laugh. You're the only person who could summon such a hearty laugh from Littlefinger. A badge of honor.

"Yes my darling. The most beautiful plumage in the seven kingdoms." Kissing a trail up your neck, you can't contain a giggle from bubbling forth from you. His facial hair made you so ticklish.

Spinning yourself around, you sneak a kiss from those devilish lips of his. "I'll wear it proudly then."

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine making friends with Cassidy, the young boy possessing Golden Freddy.

|| Word Count: 522 || Platonic Fluff ||

A/N: Goldie's my favourite character from the FNAF world, so I had to write a bit of something for him .-. if you want to see anything specific for any of the FNAF. movie characters then go ahead and request some stuff, as long as it's not smut, and platonic/childhood sweethearts with the missing children :)

Ever since you started working as a night guard after Mike Schmidt’s resignation, surprisingly, you aren’t attacked by the vengeful animatronics who stalk the building. If anything, they’re protective. Especially Cassidy, the quiet young boy who always seems to be watching from the shadows. He’s killed someone before who got too close to you. You’ve even seen him smile once, a massive rarity.

He lingers in the corridor and watches you from the distance with an unreadable look, a hint of a smile on his face. You glance up from the camera screens to meet his calm, but equally sharp and intense stare from across the hall, piercing through the darkness cloaking the entire building, generators always seeming to fail and leaving Freddy's in an ominous night-cloaked tone.

"Hi, Cas," you say softly into the dark room, Cassidy tilting his head ever so slightly to the side in an almost curious response. You can't help but smile slightly at that, the traces of childhood and its blissfull innocence, not completely snuffed out by the horrors that took it all away from him so many years ago. He says nothing.

"Come to keep me company?" You offer with a half-smile, reaching out a hand in his direction, slowly and steadily, ready for him to reject it in silence and step back into the blackness that he seems to so effortlessly emerge from.

Cassidy hesitates for a long moment, before taking a soundless step forward, gazing at your hand blankly, as if not entirely trusting the gesture. But then, slowly, slowly, he stretches out his arm and smaller hand to meet yours, cold dead fingers brushing against yours. You smile fully, squeezing his fingers between yours gently, comfortingly, your other hand brushing back his fine blond locks away from his eyes.

"Poor thing," you find yourself mumbling aloud to yourself. "You're freezing..."

It's a good question of if Cassidy can actually feel the chill, but it doesn't seem to bother him. The foreign positive touch is nice and soothing, and a ghost of appreciation makes his mouth twitch into an almost-smile. He rests his head against your shoulder, breathing out a small content breath from his nose, as your fingers skim the boy's hair. He looks so little and quiet and distant, and for a moment, it seems like a ridiculous idea that he could be capable of anything close to murder, though he most certainly is.

You glance back at the cameras absentmindedly... then again. A frown tugs at your brows, and you peer closer at the digital, hazy image of the abandoned party room... and an intruder, someone who had found their way into the building, or was very likely lured there, lying still and cold on its floors.

"What...?"

Your voice trails off in realisation, and you roll your eyes, half amused, before looking back to Cassidy with a brow raised, as if to say, "really?"

Cassidy, of course, blinks back up at you with unfaltering innocence, his gaze only sharpening with matching amusement and something familiarly dark and unsettling that lingers in the halls of the Pizzeria.

"He fell asleep."

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Baking With BF!Dean Winchester Headcanons

✨ Dean Winchester x GN!Reader ✨

*sighs in 2014 was 10 years ago* Minors do NOT interact, this is not “rizz-ing!” Off you go!

A/N: I love writing these because they’re like half baked yet surprisingly endearing thoughts and it’s fun haha.

Icons by me!

All notes are appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

Content Warning: I have a bad sense of humor and make some sex jokes but nothing too explicit, at least I think so. Definitely still 18+

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-3 favorite things to bake with him

1. Pie (obvs)

2. Brownies (sometimes with pot…)

3. Cookies (all kinds)

-okay, now that that's been established...

-one day you had jokingly suggested the bunker should do a cookie jar

-this was taken seriously; not only by Dean, Sam and Cas; but also by literally every regular passerby. Even Rowena's made a batch of red velvet cookies. (We threw those ones away, we couldn't trust that they weren't poisoned, made of blood, or both)

-but if it's just the usual crew (you, the brothers, and Cas) then you have a weekly rotation

-and Dean regularly suckers you into "helping" him, even though you both knows he’s capable of being a big boy (and I mean he is a big boy if you catch my drift) and doing it himself

-those candy apple green eyes work wonders

-anyhoo

-one of his favorite, stupidly cheesy things to do is as follows:

-you’ll have a taste of the batter/dough/filling, as one does (it’s always good cause the two of you together are an unstoppable force in the kitchen) (alone is a different story- it’s usually Kraft Mac n Cheese cups)

-and while you’re trying it, making faces, he’ll look over and innocently ask if he can try it

-like “Can I get some, sweetheart?” (And yes he most certainly can get some.) (batter, I mean) (definitely batter) or “can I try some, doll?”

-and no matter how many times he’s tried it you’ll say yes

-so he’ll lean down, cupping your cheeks in his rough hands and kiss you as passionately as humanly possible

-like, these kisses could literally bake the cookies or whatever because of how hot they are

-and he’ll make sure he really gets to try it

-and then he’ll pull back with a smirk, cause he’s done it at least 30 times before and you still let him and still like melt into a puddle every single time. Without fail.

-you guys like to put on Disney soundtracks in the background when you bake. High school musical and Moana primarily, but he’s also taken with the soundtrack of Julie and the Phantoms. (He complained about the show being unrealistic supernaturally speaking and then was adamant that there should be a season two and cancelling it was a crime worthy of hell)

-also, rock, obviously. As a fan of Bon Jovi, you best believe you sell him on them and slow dance to Bed of Roses while things are in the oven. It’s only right.

-if you’re listening to heat of the moment and Sam the baby giraffe walks in he will get those sad eyes, making both of you scramble to make him something else, like some keto hidden veggie brownies or some shit, to make him feel better

-now, in specifics

-pie is for fun. You two usually make one to split for after dinner. Roughly once a month, but should be more often. Well, that’s not fair if you count creampies

-apple is his favorite, ofc. You use Mary’s recipe, and you’re the only person in the whole wide world that he trusts with modifying it in any way

-you also make them for him if he’s sick or if you guys have for some reason had a fight. The latter is rarer, but does still happen on occasion

-it’s okay though, because pie will always make things better

-cookies are almost exclusively for the jar. These are made on random frequencies, usually a lot at a time.

-he likes butterscotch a lot, and you find a way to mix your favorite flavors into either one monstrosity or one beauty of a cookie

-you guys have in fact made your own recipe. It’s awesome. Like, prized possession material.

-and then brownies

-they’re literally just pimped up store bought mix. Preferably Ghirardelli, for maximum bougie-ness

-and then sometimes you guys add some fun time grass

-you’ll do that when you just want to have a soft night. You’ll always way up to him laying on you and holding you like a koala though- may your back be prepared

-overall he just really enjoys spending time with you in any way that he can and baking is a great way to do that

-Dean Winchester is precious

-I rest my case

If you have any ideas for more headcanons, send a request! My box is always open!

Xx

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Valeria x female SO (sfw + nsfw headcanons)

(This woman screams bisexual to me, I just had to write this - sfw and nsfw on Valeria with a female partner. My personal take on her character!)

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

SFW: -Valeria is naturally a very dominant and assertive woman, her confidence borders on overzealously. It's been hard for her to maintain relationships, especially with men like Alejandro because there are two people struggling to dominate the relationship. As such, she needs someone who can handle being ordered around (in more than one way). Her energy could either be matched by someone very similar to her (ie. another strong woman), or someone totally submissive. She can enjoy a submissive man erotically, but he'll eventually annoy her and go missing. Submissive women, on the other hand, are a piece of cake. -Has a soft spot for puppy eyes, really struggles to not give in to pleas. She'll resist giving you what you want at the moment because she will *not* let a brat order her around, but she'll give in eventually. You want her to buy you something? What does she look like, a walking ATM to you? She doesn't work her ass off just for you to waste her money on silly things! But you will find whatever you wanted on your bed within the next 2-5 business days. And your next allowance will be a bit more generous. -Could definitely enjoy being a sugar mama, so long as she gets some sugar. Money is just another way to guarantee your submission and she loves to see her partner be grateful to her. -Has some abandonment issues from her past. May secretly feel the need to shower you with material things because you may not stick around if there isn't a material reward. Will need lots of affirmative words and caresses in private when she has a low mood. -Needs good morning cuddles to set the day. If they are disrupted for whatever reason, she'll be in a nasty mood for the rest of the day. -Easily touched by your devotion. Even simple moments where you might casually mention a future together, or wanting to get matching tattoos will make her emotional. -No PDA. Not because she's ashamed of your relationship, but because she doesn't really trust anyone, even the people working for her. -You'll have a whole wing to yourself at her residence. She says it's because she likes to separate her personal life from her business, but really it's because she can't stand having people around you. If she could have it her way, you'd be locked inside forever, away from the gaze of others. She often struggles with posessiveness and you'll just have to accept it if you want to be together. -Is definitely toxic; possessive, easily jealous and prone to angry outbursts. Oftentimes, only you can calm her down.

NSFW: -Valeria can be quite selfish when it comes to sex, will prioritise herself and expects to be completely satisfied every time. Her SO will receive pleasure too, of course, but only after she's had her fun. -Often uses sex to wind down, so will expect to receive on a very regular basis. -Uses toys. If she's punishing you through sex, she'll change the size of her strap-on over the course of the night to make it more challenging for her SO. It amuses her because she likes to see you struggle and writhe underneath her. -Another perk to having you in your own little space at her residence is that you can be as loud as you want. Wants you to use your words. If you don't speak Spanish, she'll order you in her native language and then punish you for not understanding her commands. -Enjoys aggravating her SO. If you're close and begging, she'll do the opposite of what you want and will laugh as you desperately fuck yourself on her for release. -Can be easily manipulated through sex. If she's in a mood where she doesn't want to give you anything, getting her off might just change her mind. Knows this is a tactic her SO uses and will purposefully deny you things just to have sex. -One time you came without permission, so she stole all your clothes as you slept. You were only allowed to wear your underwear until you apologised to her. And when you apologise, she wants it to be sincere and emotional, completely taking all the blame for her actions. Extra kisses for you if you cry while doing so.

Notes: Felt a little inspired writing that bit where the love interest has a whole wing to themselves. I might make a short story on Alejandro kidnapping Valeria's SO for intel and interrogating them with the 141, I think that'd be so juicy!

Update: Link to the short story ^ on A03 + available on my Tumblr profile

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Hi Cas, for the Kisses Writing prompt how about 16. With Joel Miller ? 🩷👀

Thank you so much for the ask! It's getting too warm to even knit, my hands are sweaty and that doesn't seem to work well with the yarn I'm currently working with. So a lil writing break was needed! (I'll get to your second request later, I feel a little siesta is needed, I didn't sleep well last night.)

So, kisses prompt number 16: One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Joel Miller x you (gn!reader, no descriptions)

QZ!Joel, kissing, no other warnings except grumpy pouty man is grumpy and pouty.

604 words.

”You shouldn’t have done that.”

You don’t need to look at Joel to know that he’s pissed off. And you know he’s pissed off because he’s worried. You have no idea what Joel was like before the world went to hell, but you know him now, and you know that he cares so very deeply without having the right words for it. He never tells you he loves you, but will chew you out when you’ve done something he thinks is too risky. It’s only when he thinks he could have lost you that he talks.

”Maybe so, but I did, and I survived,” you shrug.

It’s your latest stunt that’s causing him grief. It wasn’t even a particularly bad one, and you had no trouble getting out of it on your own. You didn’t even tell Joel until after you were back in the shitty little apartment you share with him in the QZ. The pills you had swiped from a rival were on the table, and Joel had inquired about them. And you told him how they came into your possession, nonchalantly.

And here you were.

”The plan was solid,” you add, ”and you know it.”

”Even the most solid of plans can go wrong. And you know that, because you keep avoiding to look at me.”

You look up from your dinner prep immediately, and meet his disapproving stare.

”I’m only trying to avoid a fight,” you tell him, putting down the knife and wiping your hands on your jeans. ”But if you want one...”

”What’s the use?” he grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. ”You’re going to win, like always, and do as you please.”

”And don’t you forget it,” you quip, but with softness lacing your voice. You take a glass from the sink, reach for the bottle of amber liquid on the sideboard, and pour two fingers into the glass. You then take it to Joel, who begrudgingly accepts it.

”It’s not like you’re letting me forget it,” he sighs, still frowning at you. ”Ever.”

”That’s what you like about me. I keep you on your toes.”

”On my toes into an early grave. Look, baby, you need to be more careful – ”

Joel interrupts himself mid-sentence when he realizes that you’re heading into that fight that he wants to avoid. You cock your head and raise a brow at him, waiting for him to say more, but he just glowers over his glass before emptying it. You take the glass from him, setting it down on the table, and then you wrap your arms around his neck.

”I’ll let you in on my plan beforehand next time,” you promise. ”Okay, baby?”

He still looks like he’s ready to go murder a man, but you’re not deterred. It’s just how he is. You lean in, chest pressing up against his broad frame, and nip at his lips. He doesn’t budge, but you feel the corner of his mouth twitch, so you press your lips to his. The taste of liquour gives a sharpness to the kiss, but you don’t mind. It’s a short but sweet kiss, and you place another, even lighter on his lips before stepping back.

He’s still frowning, but his hands come to your hips, and you see the twinkle in his eyes.

”I know what you’re doin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs. You bat your eyelashes coquettishly.

”I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

He finally smiles, but you don’t get to see it as he places his big hand at the back of your head, and pulls you in for another kiss.

[evermoresversion]

DATING NICK LEISTER WOULD INCLUDE.

A/N Please excuse me if there are any grammatical errors or misspellings, Engliysh is not my first language.

TW/TAGS: Fluff, Implied sex.

NICK'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

First things first, this boy loves car sex, like, a lot.

He will make you the mother of Thor.

Protects you from everything and everyone.

He takes you to all of his races.

Also to all the parties and fights.

Lots of cuddles in his room, or your room.

A little too jealous.

Possessive.

Lots of make out sessions.

He loves to see you with his clothes on, like t-shirts, hoodies, etc.

Although he knows you won't return them, unless the smell of his perfume has gone and you return it until it smells of him again.

Sex everywhere.

When he sees that any guy sees you too much, he will make sure that he knows that you are his girl and he is your boy.

I'm 100% sure he's the type of boyfriend who lets you do your skincare routine on him.

It will sound super cliche but he loves your smile, I mean, he really loves it, and he will do whatever it takes to see you happy.

He'll never say it out loud but he loves it when you're mad, he thinks you look hot.

You and Jenna are best friends.

The kind of boyfriend who would listen to Taylor Swift for you.

Or any singer/group that you like.

Speaking of music, I'm pretty sure he listens to Chase Atlantic, I recognize a CA lover when I see one.

When you feel down, he will hug you tight, if you want it that way, and he will wait for you to speak, without pressing you, while he caresses your hair.

Lot of hugs.

He likes to watch romance movies with you.

In conclusion, he in love is a big softie.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.

This is my first time writing here, I hope you liked it and I'll be writing more about Nick, thanks for reading. <3

[tokiro07]

Toki Reads Shonen Jump 2024, Issue #52

HxH: Morena's card game begins, and she exposits that she was conceived in a state-sanctioned non-consensual orgy; Borksen learns that thanks to Nen restrictions, she actually does have actually does have an escape route. The implications of Morena's backstory are certainly staggering, but also lost on me

Yozakura: Taiyo has an "I know you're in there" fight with himself, ending with him expelling Asa by shooting himself in the heart. Taiyo's willingness to damage his own body to make it uninhabitable to Asa doesn't seem ideal, but definitely preferable to being possessed

Undead Unluck: Soul tries to force Andy and Victor's souls back together, but Rip cuts them apart permanently with Unrepair. This is Rip's capstone, where he finally uses Unrepair for someone else's happiness instead of ruining his own with it

Roboco: Roboco writes more shameless ripoff manga, but finally learns that her own original material is a lot better. I have no faith that this lesson will stick

Sakamoto: Atari's luck has literally run out; she reveals to Tenkyu that his friendship w/ Uzuki is irreparable; Shin resolves to kill Tenkyu, even if it means severing ties with Sakamoto. Both Tenkyu and Shin are losing their friends because they're killing in their name against their wishes; Atari's an idiot for using such an obscene amount of luck last chapter just to fire ONE bullet

EluSam: Tokiyuki and realKojiro gush over Kojiro as he fights Nagao; the scene cuts away to Mima getting into architecture and interior design. This seems to have an affect on enemy morale, but I feel like it's not worth ignoring what seems to be Kojiro's most important fight

Witch Watch: The flashback gang discusses the legacy of Familiars and their prejudice towards humanity; Kuon warms up to the team, and Taiga raises more death flags. The idea of magic fading away as a sign of peaceful times is a topic I've been thinking about a lot lately because I've been revisiting Medaka Box; this may inform a future essay

Blue Box: Taiki endears himself to Chinatsu's dad with his earnest, if a bit overbearing, nature. I'm glad we're not drawing out the tension too much, it makes the dad more relatable

Akane: Despite Miroku's refusal to let them perform, Shiguma and Issho learn enough rakugo for Kiroku to give them a slot; Miroku offers to grant Kiroku his name and rank if he will use it to expel the pair. This is clearly the event that led to the founding of the Arakawa School, but even with a foregone conclusion, it's a nailbiter

Kill Blue: Juzo and Shin use assassin techniques to advertise the bakery; Yoichiro wagers his staff's bonuses to whichever club can beat their challenges. Clearly he's plotting something, but I can't quite see yet how this furthers his plans

Nue: Rido spontaneously achieves his Bankai Spirit Armor and promptly passes out. It looks cool, but I'm already so unclear on this power system's rules that such an upgrade only serves to confuse me further

Kagurabachi: In a side story, we revisit everyone's favorite guy, Sojo, trying desperately to enjoy a bath despite his routine being ruined at every turn. Looking back, I'm sad that Sojo died; I hope he continues to haunt the narrative

Chojo: Keinain's new assistant, Makami, finds everything about the Chinjuku station to be lewd; this is not because she's a prude, but an extremely repressed pervert. Would

Astro Royale: Himuro reveals he became a cop to stop the Yotsurugi family from interfering with his dad's business, but only found out later that they were supporting him through hard times; the damage he caused this business relationship resulted in his father's suicide; he eats the Daybreak Ore and becomes a mutated mass. Himuro's motivations now reflect Kinpa's, but just like he hurt his dad by targeting the Yotsurugi's, his rage is misdirected and self-destructive

Kiyoshi: Asuta's time runs out and he gets away, cementing the sacrifices made to summon him; as he leaves, he calls Kiyoshi his soulmate in a perverse twist on Kiyoshi's own desire for friendship. Axe-deniers when the lead fails and lets 100 innocent people die - 🎉🍾🥳🎊🥂; throw the yaoi girlies in there too since there's about to be a huge boost in sales

Hima-Ten: Tenichi takes up the rear on the class hike; Himari fakes an injury to keep him company. Very cute, but how the hell does this moron not realize she's in love???

Ichi: Just before the contest begins, Ichi sees a mysterious figure; the Kindake Magik vows to kill everyone who doesn't worship his mushrooms, then escapes into his mushroom forest. So much for not being a human-hater; Togeice's poor sense of direction will certainly make this challenge much harder on her

Shinobi: Yodaka sabotages Hachikuma's strings and turns them against him. Though heavy-handed, Yodaka straightening and braiding Hachikuma's discarded, tangled strings as a symbol of the value of putting effort into maintaining relationships is sweet

Hakutaku: The mechanics of the AR game are explained, but Hikuma sleeps through people actually enjoying it. Maybe it's cus I don't like mobile games, but I do not see the appeal of this game, which is probably the most damning indictment of a game design manga

Syd Craft: Elio is revealed to be Levie Olyn, Syd's favorite romance author, who became his assistant after he cleared her name in a case; she writes her books to vent her DEFINITELY NOT ROMANTIC feelings for Syd. That's a great dynamic, I love girls who pine, I'm super endeared to this idiot

My top 3 manga for the week are:

Undead Unluck, unsurprisingly, for its fantastic color page, multiple great spreads, and at least two of what will undoubtedly become the most iconic moments in the entire series; congrats on netting the final cover of the year!

Syd Craft for continuing to expand upon its concept in a way that really appeals to me; let it be known I never said Tsutsui was a bad author, I just said he was a coward

Kiyoshi for dodging the axe, establishing an interesting dynamic between Kiyoshi and Asuta, and the bravery to leave it on such a bleak cliffhanger

Runners up include Astro Royale and Shinobi Undercover, both for giving me some interesting symbolism to chew on, as well as Hima-Ten and Chojo for women in denial that fall short of Elio

Edit: I want to correct something I said last week - it does not seem like Bug Ego is joining Weekly Jump after all, I think someone I follow on twitter either got a bad tip or I misunderstood what they said. Bug Ego was added to the Shonen Jump app, not Shonen Jump itself. Apologies for any confusion!

[autisticandroids]

broad strokes of my interpretation of 5x04 the end/the overall guidelines i pay attention to when writing endverse fic

it's about sam. in both a positive and a negative sense, all of endverse is built on sam's absence. on the one hand, there is a freedom and joy for dean that comes from being rid of sam. sam and dean don't really... like each other anymore from s4 onwards, and their unbreakable bond becomes more like a curse to both of them. in a way breaking it is a mercy, see: free to be you and me dean sections. sam's absence allows dean to form meaningful relationships in a way he's basically incapable of with sam around. and to dean sam is a ball and chain, he is first and foremost a duty, not a brother or friend. watch out for sammy. without that millstone around his neck dean is free to be his own person in a way he has literally never been in his whole life. on the other hand, there's the horror of it. sam says yes, and that breaks dean. while dean was running around having a grand old time exercising newfound freedom, he was shirking his duty. his personal world was ending, and he didn't even know it. in the end, dean will never escape sam or have an identity outside of him, and with sam gone - not just separate but gone - he is fully and irrevocably broken.

endverse dean and endverse cas are so divorced, but in order to be that divorced you have to have been married first. to circle back to free to be you and me, do you see how happy dean is in that episode? do you see how sweet dean and cas are on each other? that's the starting point for endverse. that's the point of timeline divergence. whether their relationship experienced a gradual souring or a sharp decline when sam dies is unclear, but we know that it wasn't always this way. this is something that changed.

endverse cas probably isn't as pathetic as you think he is. this is a three-pronged point. 3a. when i say pathetic i don't mean miserable i mean pathetic. endverse cas is extremely miserable every day all the time bc of having to live through an apocalypse and being cutoff from heaven. however. compared to canon cas at the same time he is way less pathetic. he's a lot more self-possessed, and feels entitled enough to a good life that the fact that he's miserable makes him bitter. he may be unhappy but he does not have the kind of self-hatred/low self-esteem that canon cas has because that stuff develops later for particular reasons. 3b. dean is not like. the only thing in his life/the only reason he's miserable and he's probably not even the most important. he's literally living through the apocalypse for chrissakes. and also he's cut off from heaven, which he in the text cites as a major source of his misery. i tend to choose to interpret that as like. missing the hivemind of heaven (or even missing his angelic siblings who he cares deeply about) in order to get it to gel more with my interpretations of canon cas. but even just taking at face value that cas feels powerless and debased because of his fall that's still crunchy and like. not about dean really. like yeah the guy he fell for is no longer capable of loving him but also there's bigger problems here. 3c. drug use. obviously endverse cas uses various substances but if we look at the actual text there are three references to drug use across two exchanges. number one is "are you stoned?" "generally, yeah" ok like we are all grownups here and can admit smoking weed is fine right? right? obviously being stoned all the time is a sign that things aren't going super great in your life but that's generally a symptom of something worse. and then "[takes pill bottle] amphetamines?" "it's the perfect antidote to that absinthe" there are two references to drug use here. one is the fact that cas is taking adhd medication. that's addictive and he could be addicted to it, but also it's not exactly unusual for soldiers to take amphetamines before a battle, nor is it unusual for people who have to drive all night to take them to help them stay awake. also, the way cas talks about it, the vibe seems to be that this is one of many substances that cas occasionally partakes in. the other reference here is to the absinthe and that actually is a cut and dried reference to drug abuse. drinking heavily before driving all night and then going into battle is super irresponsible and likely indicative of a problem. and then the other body of evidence we have is that dean seems to consider cas to be absolutely competent and reliable, so if cas is addicted to something, it's definitely what you'd call a functional addiction, something that doesn't interfere with his life too much. so, broad strokes: if endverse cas is gonna be an addict he is actually probably most likely a functional alcoholic. which is also pretty fun because then you can really play in the space of He Learned It From Dean. 3d. endverse cas is textually kind of a sleazebag.

endverse dean is a shithead but not the way most people think. the notable thing about endverse dean is that he doesn't care enough about other people - endverse cas included but not unique. he's a bastard but his bastardry is lack of care, not intentional cruelty. this is, imo, if i may circle back to the first point, a result of sam's death - after that, dean became singleminded, only really interested in killing lucifer. willing to send cas and others he cares about into a meat grinder to chase his white-suited whale. but he's not mean. just cold. there is the festering corpse of a love relation between dean and cas, but it's not a situation where dean is mean to cas in the way like, season fifteen dean is mean to cas. he's not controlling, not using cas as a punching bag or chewtoy. maybe there's some mutual sniping but mostly dean just doesn't care. as a point of interest, one way in which endverse dean is cruel is he appears to be a habitual cheater. just watch cas' reaction when risa accuses dean of cheating on her. that's the face of a man who has been in her position and knows she is a fool to expect better. but again that's kind of more about not caring about the impact of his actions.

[angeldiied]

Father. Is that what you are? Are you a father? I think you're more. Perhaps some sort of saint. Perhaps, after all, an angel. Perhaps, after all, God. The Bible says, ‘Do not make for yourself an idol.’ The Bible seems to be against idols, against icons. We are all sinners, Father. Even the church. Even the Bible itself. And you, Father? And you, Cas? How much sin and how much holiness is in you, do you know...

I haven't read the Bible. My mother read it to me, and even then, just the children's version. I remember the story of Adam and Eve. After all, who doesn’t? The Garden of Eden, paradise. Let’s imagine that our world is Eden. Crazy, I know. But let's imagine.

I think you’re the forbidden fruit in it. I think it’s not just for me.

I saw last week at communion how young Alfie looked at you. You think you're guiding him to the righteous path? I believe you’re driving him mad.

You shouldn’t know this. But here I am, reading a prayer, not to God, but to you.

I imagine your face if you saw me on my knees with folded hands. Dean Winchester? Never in a million years.

I'm going crazy.

I dreamt of wings recently—white feathers splattered with blood. As if something was being cut. As if wings were being cut.

I fear for you, truly, I fear. I saw young Alfie’s gaze. But I couldn’t see my own. I think there’s something terrifying there. Maybe demonic. Though if I’m a demon, a snake, I probably wouldn’t bite the forbidden fruit, because it’s not for me.

But I’ll tell you—it is for me. It is for me. I will kill, I will seal the sin, I will kill Alfie to get to you first.

I don't believe in God. But I feel possessed by all this nonsense you preach. Maybe it's the little silver cross on your chest—so modest. Maybe it's to blame. Maybe it’s your lips that read the psalms—those are shameless, Cas. A peach. I’m telling you—they're forbidden.

I want you to fear me. I really do. Kill me instead. There’s a shovel behind the church, I’ve already dug my grave, just cover it with dirt, please. Yes, right next to the parish, I know. I want to be close even after death. But dead, I’m not so... sinful, not so dangerous. You’ll either kill me, or I’ll pluck you from the branch of that damn tree in that damn Garden of Eden.

I want you to grow in me.

With life, grow, Cas. Because for now, you’re just a disease. You’re just temptation. You’re just tears on my cheeks, my madness, my hatred for the world.

The prayer is finished.

I dream.

You’re walking barefoot on the sea sand. It clings to your feet, to your heels. You’re walking, and for some reason, your feet are wet, that’s why the sand clings so persistently. You’re holding a crucifix in your hands. It dangles on a silver chain. There are handprints on your neck. Mine. And you’re murmuring prayers for forgiveness—to God. For me.

God won’t forgive me, God doesn’t exist.

I only have you. And you have that damned cross.

You would die if you heard me curse.

I like your church. It’s not tall, but it tries, it stretches to the heavens, breaks through it with its domes like a spine. Drives you mad with church bells. Curses everything around during thunderstorms and lightning, like a branch of hell on earth.

I like it. You’re there. Your broken wings are there. Blood instead of stained glass, feathers on the icons.

You. On the altar.

I. Holding the cross.

I touch you.

How good it is that you’re alive, write down my prayer. Please. It’s everywhere. Write it down. Write it down.

Whisper it like your last breath.

Take another breath. Wait. Stay with me.

You see? I'm on my knees again, for you again, for the second time in my life. Tell me the story of Jesus Christ. Tell me, I’ll listen. I’ll carry you in my arms, carry you down the Via Dolorosa. How good it is that you’re alive, that I didn’t touch you, well, almost.

My angel. I’ll bring you back. You’ll get everything, you’ll get the heavens themselves, I swear.

Can you imagine, someone told me—that I’m God.

Can you imagine, someone told me—that you’re mine.

Do you believe it? Will you say it back?

"Yes, I think you’re God. I think I’m yours."

[shattersstar]

A possessive kiss in the rain for Alucard (Castlevania) and reader

First time ever requesting! I love your writing and your series on alucard! Feel free to make a whole new thing or to even ignore this,no pressure! Thank you!

possessive kiss in the rain + adrian tepes x vampire!reader

a/n: did i use this as an excuse to include striga? yeah of course <33 but tyyy for the request along with ur kind words im v honoured 😌 and sorry for taking forever with this i did have a lot of fun writing it tho so i hope u enjoy!!

—

It was quiet, the sun setting around an hour ago and it was still quiet. Quiet when you climbed out of the caravan to find Sypha and Trevor building a fire, quiet when you took a seat against a tree—the speaker not too far behind, even quieter when Adrian made his way back to camp, finding the magician laying her head in your lap while you stared into the flames. Both the men in your company grumbled at the sight, though Trevor had long dozed off against a tree of his own, while Adrian beckoned you with his eyes. You rose without warning Sypha, she yelped and scolded your manners as she rose to dust herself off. Her words went over your head, you offered a half glance over your shoulder in response, but tensed at the sound of her calling Adrian’s name—his other name.

Alucard rolled off her tongue as easily as all the other humans who dubbed him so. You did your best not to roll your eyes at the title, brushing past the half vampire who bid goodbye to the humans you traveled with.

You both moved silently, the ambient scape of the forest filled the air—branches snapped and leaves crunched in the distance as birds sang above and insects trilled below. You had stayed hidden amongst the trees, but followed parallel to the path that led to a cattle village nearby. And if the horde moved as you all predicted, they were likely to pass over soon. A buffet of beef would surely bring them calling, but it was still too quiet. Animals should have scattered when the wind chilled, bringing the scent of rot and decay. The sky also had not clouded over with the mass of the night creatures, the moonlight still slit through the trees and danced on your skin.

Adrian’s pointed silence didn’t help, but you were too caught up in where the night creatures were to dwell on it. It was not like them to wait so long to show themselves, the sun had set over an hour ago now—maybe they were not here yet.

You were simply ahead of schedule, you settled on, wondering if Adrian had decided the same. You were going to ask him about the silence, about the calm—yet he seemed anything, but calm. When you glanced over your shoulder you could see the emotions swirling in his golden eyes, contemplating and consuming him. “Are you okay?” You asked suddenly, your voice was the loudest thing within miles it seemed.

“Sypha’s quite taken with you.” Adrian replied, and your brows shot up your face. You stayed quiet for sometime in front of the dhampir, trying to understand the root of his statement. Perhaps the question within it. Sypha’a affection and interest towards you was what he had been stewing on?

Was it…jealousy?

No. “She has never been around our kind before and now she has two wells of knowledge. It's the speaker side of her—the only side of her.” You sounded defensive, and you hated it, over a century alive on this earth and still unable to hide yourself from those feelings. The ones Adrian brought out in you with a simple stare.

“I suppose, she does interrogate me to no end.” You both laughed lightly at that. You felt a little easier, ready to move one when he spoke again, “She’s quite comfortable around you—honest around you.”

“Comfortable?!” Your anger surfaced too fast—you knew it the moment you whipped around and Adrian took half a step back. Jarred by your reaction and the glint of your fangs in the moonlight. You wanted to calm down, but it was too heavy, “You think she should be weary of me, scared Adrian? Its okay because you can go out in the sun and survive without blood, but, but I’m—“

“No my darling.” He never interrupted you, never broke that respect he offered so easily a lifetime ago, but he did this time with a hushed tone. It silenced you, jaw clenching as you looked away. You were never one for dramatics, not in front of him especially, but it burned something deep in your chest to feel even more alienated. Forced to see skulls of vampires in the Belmont’s hold—trophies and artifacts of loved ones neatly cataloged amongst the goodies you know the Belmont boy was dying to use on you.

Adrian was easy to stomach and you were the one to be scared of, the one who stayed hidden in the caravan during the days and unable to spend a minute at night alone without wild accusations about your whereabouts, motives or more being thrown around. It had calmed down in recent days, Sypha’s unbridled affection towards you may have been a part of that, but it could also be the nights spent on hunts. Just you and Adrian, the only person who would never judge you, never see your carnage and violence and think anything of it.

It was to ease the burden the two humans had been facing, nights spent clearing areas far and wide while they worked through the days. And to quell the restless Adrian sensed brewing in you. You had barely been sleeping during the days, staring into the brief glimpses of sunlight from the back of the covered wagon with dead eyes, spending the nights irritated and distant, which never helped whatever they may think of you.

But the distance, that helped. The time spent alone with Adrian, moments to feed and drink in peace on the unfortunate souls who didn’t manage to escape the horde. Adrian often collected canteens of blood for you, keeping them with his things and out of Trevor’s knowledge. You never questioned the secrecy, but did have to stop your eyes from widening in surprise when he first gave you one. You had never asked Adrian to do such a thing, to care and attend to you in his own silent ways.

It made your anger dissolve fully, he called your name after you let out an unneeded sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you so. I know it's difficult, I see it. I promise.” His hand met your cheek, cradling you for a soft second. You leaned into his touch before remembering the reason you were out here. You would find the words later, instead you kissed his palm before turning back to the path. He stayed by your side as best he could, sometimes drifting behind with the forest demanded so, but always within reach. It was only when a scream pierced somewhere in the distance Adrian slipped in front of you. You both leaned into your senses, and while you both located the source of the scream, you also caught a scent of something familiar.

Something from lifetimes ago that brought back memories from your human life. You tried to shake the sudden onslaught of emotions, you were always drowning in what you felt. Alive or dead your feelings consumed you wholly. Adrian had already taken off in the direction and while you tried to follow, that warm floral scent only grew stronger. You found yourself stopping and watching him vanish into the dark of the woods. You knew another vampire was nearby, and as you carefully followed the scent, you found yourself in a small clearing.

A woman, tall and broad, sat sharpening her large blade while you lurked in the tree line. You watched her, wondering why she was here when she called out.

“No need to hide.” Her voice carried on the wind and reminded you of home. You moved at lightning speed, appearing in front of her, your long cloak settling as the breeze from your movements fluttered her long hair.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“Striga, one of four rulers of Styria.” She placed her blade against the log she sat upon, pushing herself up to her full towering height. The moonlight caught Striga's hair as she moved to stand next to you, and you couldn't deny the fact she was beautiful. Strong and powerful, but with the eyes of a lover. That kind that drew you in, saw into your soul and kissed the barest parts of your condemned spirit.

“Styria…” You whispered, it had been too many lifetimes ago since you had set foot on the shores of your birth place. And now, one of its vampire rulers stood in front of you, radiating that warm smell of jasmine and something indescribably citrus that reminded you of where you had grown up. You had left your past behind you, never returning to where you had been turned, not since you were free. Though, you had always hoped to catch that scent of Styria again and finally understand the complexities of its smell with your heightened senses. Yet you were still unable to place the adjectives that gave you a true answer to the intoxicating scent.

“You're the vampire traveling with the Belmont boy.” She was close enough that her arm brushed yours.

“I am.” You confirmed, while Striga raised a brow. Her strong arms crossed over her chest, black and purple armor amplifying her size.

“You ally yourself with the enemy.”

“I ally myself to Ad…Alucard, and if that’s the company he keeps, then it is the company I keep.” You explained, trying to ignore the bitterness at the sound of his other name.

She laughed, a low sound that made you smile involuntarily. “You’re quite something to be with a…half…thing like him.”

You laughed weakly, unable to gauge her tone. “Do you forget he’s the son of Dracula?” You inquired, scanning the tree line where just beyond night creatures howled and screeched.

“I suppose you have faith in him, leaving him to fight alone so you could speak to me.”

You didn’t reply, couldn’t muster a lie in response to what was an obvious statement. You both had lived long to know it wasn’t a question and that it was true. Striga intrigued you, standing tall and alone, and reminiscent of a life you had tried to forget. Her gorgeous purple robes were set against the royal blue sky streaked with orange as shards of leftover sunlight tangled in the thick evening clouds.

“I have heard such stories of his fighting.” Striga suddenly stated, the lit of her accent more noticeable with the casual cadence of her tone.

“Its breathtaking.” You found yourself murmuring, Adrian’s strength was always something to behold. His swiftness and keen eye, how he held his sword ever so carefully and cut many in half with more grace than a trained dancer. He was violence and art in motion. He was yours forever. It made you grin, small and fangs peaking out.

“You wear your affection on your face, he should be honoured to be cherished by someone as beautiful as you.”

“You speak like a true soldier, warrior even. Of honour and worth. It is a beautiful way to want.” You turned to face her, taking in her green eyes and the charm wrapped around a single braid in her hair. It was a long tousled mess of black waves that were half swept up. You noticed the glinting clip that held her hair back and wondered how a notorious commander would own such a thing. Perhaps it was a gift from a lover like the crystal bracelet you wore. Adrian had fastened it around your wrist one early morning. You were dozing in the caravan with him, listening to Sypha try to pry stories from Trevor while easily supplying her own. It was nice to fall asleep to the lull of their mindless talk while in Adrian’s arms. It was then he slipped it over your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a few soft kisses there before carefully slipping into the day.

“And how do you love him? If you do?”

You held her gaze, “You imply that I don’t?”

“I’m curious if you don’t.” She corrected with a simple nod. “I find you beautiful and interesting, it would be disheartening to know you are spoken for.”

“I am.”

“By a man who stands on the opposite of side the war?”

“It appears so.”

Striga turned her attention to the sky, appealing to the heavens as she spoke her next words.

“Then I apologize for any hurt I may cause you during this war. I’ll find you and apologize in person, repent for as long as I must.”

“That is, if you truly hurt me.”

“No, I would find you anyways.”

You chuckled, “Why?”

“To see if you are still in love.” Striga shrugged her broad shoulders, the words almost too casual as if she knew something you did not. It made you nervous, another half laugh escaping your lips before you turned back towards the tree line. “You do love him?” She inquired, shifting closer. A moment of silence passed before a howl broke through the woods. Inhuman and sending a flock of birds into the night sky. You followed them with your gaze.

“I try not too.” You answered honestly, watching the winged creatures disappear into another part of the dense forest. Adrian was far too great for this world to be yours. You were a lowly vampire turned by a lonely widow who needed company more than blood. She begged and begged until she stopped taking no for an answer and turned you in your sleep. You woke up screaming and sobbing, a life robbed by someone who didn’t even end up wanting you. Her guilt consumed her whole, she had doomed you to the same life she wanted reprieve from and choose to let the church find and kill her. She left you alone, and you wanted to spend eternity just like that.

But you and Adrian had found each other, lonely in your own torrential ways. You had never met someone like him before, someone caught between two worlds you had given up on entirely. Adrian brought something to quell the loneliness of your cursed existence, and for that companionship, you’d follow him anywhere.

You would accept death at the hands of his father if it meant stopping the bloodshed as Adrian wanted. You had nothing, but your entire self to give to him. Maybe besides the knowledge from the life you lived and the sword on your hip. He could have something more normal, more human than you, if that’s what he so wanted from his life. You had always understood that, accepted that and tried to love him a little less in spite of it all.

Yet, your heart bled for him in ways you had never known in your brief human life, and forever stretching vampiric one. It was almost painful, how much you craved him. And almost, almost, was more powerful than the lust for blood that fueled your existence.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear “ Striga’s soft voice broke you from your thoughts, reality crashing down as Adrian stood, panting, at the edge of the clearing. He was across from you, hunched forward slightly, and hand on his blade. “I will be seeing you, soon I pray.” Striga hummed, bringing your attention to her face as she grabbed your bare hand with her gloved one. She brought your knuckles to her lips, placing a chaste kiss all while her sea green eyes bored into yours.

You opened your mouth to respond, but she vanished into the night before your hand reached your side. You pivoted back towards Adrian, walking in his direction at a steady pace, while your gaze fell to your feet. You focused on each step, one foot in front of the other, until his hands jumped to your biceps and stopped you in place.

You were about a foot from him, head tilting from the ground to meet his angry gaze. Adrian dropped his hands from you, letting silence wash over you two as the forest’s din became too loud in your ears.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out, anything to cut the silence and tension along with it.

Adrian shifted his weight, the sunny yellow of his eyes was a deep amber in the dark of night. “Why were you here?”

“I could smell a vampire, and investigated.”

“Investigated!?” His tone inflected with the anger he normally kept at bay.

“She was from Styria and I-I was curious. Is that wrong?” You were finding your ground, steadying your voice as challenge lingered in your tone.

You two never fought, not like this.

“Was it wrong to leave me—“

“You are more than capable, we both know that Adrian.” You snapped, you would not be guilted into seeing him as helpless. Adrian was anything, but that.

“Why did she kiss your hand?” Your angered confidence faltered, your gaze softening as something…sad bled into his voice. Something cold and lonely you knew well.

“I don’t know.”

His jaw clicked, and in an instant he was in your space, fangs flashing because he couldn’t help it, as his fingers grasped your jaw. He stared into your eyes and asked you again. Perhaps it was the proximity, or your own ego dying down, but you saw through him so clearly. So easily, as you always had, and understood.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, as the looming clouds finally began to cry soft tears of rain.

Pat. Pat. Pat. Against your clothes, it wasn’t torrential, but that misty rain that made everything hazy.

“She was interested in me, she complimented me and asked about you—us. She reminded me of a place I called home ages ago but my love, she is not you.” Maybe it was jealousy earlier when Adrian asked about Sypha, but regardless it definitely was now. You were unsure how he could think such things when you felt so unworthy of him, and he was worried about a woman you met once. Yes she was beautiful, and carried power and confidence like it was given to her by god, but she was not the man you loved.

The one you had swore yourself to, one you killed for and one you would gladly die for if he so much as asked. His grip faltered, eyelids shuddering as your soft explanation washed over him like the rain. With a voice barely above a whisper on the wind you continued, “I never have nor will I give myself to someone like I have you, Adrian. I would do anything at your behest. Anything beloved.” You pressed your hands against his torso, clinging to the fabric of his coat as best you could.

“Anything?” He rasped, like speaking was a chore he had no capacity for.

“I’d burn worlds down or build them up if you asked. I’d kill the Belmont boy or give my life for his if you asked. I’d lock myself away and never speak to anyone but you if that’s what you wanted. Yes, my love, anything.”

“Just let me kiss you.” Adrian’s mouth met yours before you could answer, but you both knew it was a yes. It was more teeth and fang than anything at first, as the momentum of his body slamming into yours, sent you reeling back a step before one of his hands moved to your waist. Your hands slipped up his chest, fingers still clutching the fabric before one of your hands tangled into his hair. Fingers toying with the golden lock that cascaded down his back.

Adrian still had one hand cradling your jaw, keeping you in place as he kissed you with enough desire to make you delirious. Your mouths moved together, his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He wasn’t usually like this, bold and desperate, but you would let Adrian kiss and hold you however he needed. To let the jealousy spiral through his system and find release in your lips against his.

You smiled against his mouth, nails scraping deliciously through his hair before his tongue found yours. You were faintly aware of the rain, starting to beat down heavier with each second you spent lost in each other's embrace. Adrian finally pulled away, letting his thumb smooth over your chin before finding the other side of your waist. You let both your arms wrap around his neck, stealing soft kisses as the thunder grew louder. You knew you would have to go back soon, but Adrian was still preoccupied with leaving open mouth kisses against yours, pulling back slightly before deciding he still needed more. It was more tender, what you were used to from him. Chasing your lips, a few soft pecks turning into something more heated before he would start the cycle again.

You played with his hair and felt his fingers twitch against your side as the darkness clouding his beautiful expression softened. Adrian stopped his assault of kisses, dropping his head to the curve of your neck. You kissed the top of his head, fingers slipping out of his hair.

“I love you.” You murmured, such sentiments felt a little too human and empty for you. And you did love him, but it was just more than that. He still said it to you often, and you were easy to repeat the sentiment, but you rarely offered it on your own. It was no reflection of him, it was just your distance from humanity you could never get back. But you knew Adrian needed to hear it.

“I love you too darling.” He hummed against your skin, leaving a kiss there before standing at his full height. You stared at him for a moment, the want still clear in his eyes as he tucked you against his side. You walked through the forest with clasped hands, the thick trees keeping out some of the rain, not that you cared.

You both had faster means of returning to camp, but pressed against Adrian who occasionally left kisses on the fabric by your shoulder or brought your intertwined hands to his lips, was enough to forget about the storm. Adrian engulfed you and drowned you in ways the rain never could, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sammygender]

Do you have any SPN fic recs?

always!!! since u didnt ask for anything specific im just gonna link some ones ive read recently and rly liked, tho i do have a more extensive precanon fic rec list lying around somewhere in my #fic recs tag. no precanon here cause i havent been reading much of it recently - in fact all of this is late seasons. read tags/warnings for all

here are some total faves:

thesis 5 by a_good_soldier (7k, sam &...sam!, sam & dean, sam & cas)

via time travel shenanigans, late seasons sam ends up having a chat with early seasons. literally sickening in the best possible way, perfect distillation of sam and the fucked up awful changes hes been through and his relationship with fucked up awful dean <3. trigger warning for background destiel though (im joking). there are some crazy good lines in this, cannot recommend enough, makes me feel clinically insane. also 20 year old sam eats a sushiritto.

sometimes a kind of singing by adi_rotynd (23k, sam & jack, sam & dean, sam & lucifer)

s13. best late seasons fic ever and exactly what i look for in spn fic and miles better than anything i could ever write, perfectly grapples with every fucked-up dynamic and doesnt shy away from any of it. sam gets cursed and jack can see souls. jack pov is so so good. what im discovering via writing these fic blurbs is that im really bad at describing fic but like. just read it.

the one where things don't really get better by angelszn (3k, sam & jack, sam & dean, dean & jack)

another absolutely excellent s13 fic. can you tell i have a Thing for s13 in all its abusive bunker family core. again dean is perfectly late seasons awful in this - i need to make a fic rec list of well characterised dean. sam has problems with mirrors, jack wants one, and dean is dean. <3

still life by themegalosaurus (20k, sam & jess, sam & lucifer)

s12ish. jess is back. do i even need to say more than that

charmer and gentle by askance (3.6k)

late seasons outside pov of a girl who works at a gas station near the bunker. love outside pov and this one is SO fucking good. sam in this is so dear to me and writing is so lovely

and here are some ive read recently i rly liked:

stuck by howldax (4k, sam &crowley)

crowley gets stuck possessing sam after 9x10. fantastic characterisation and v cool concept . i dont normally read stuff with much crowley so this was rly interesting

low road through the gloaming by jribbing (sam & dean, sam & john, 3k)

ok, i lied, this is partially precanon but only due to flashback scenes, its s7. writing is just absolutely beautiful and heartwrenching. sam and dean are on a hunt, and sam's having flashbacks. tw for past abuse. john is worse in this than i believe him to have been but *shrugs* its fic for a reason and brilliant fic at that.

a matched set by lovetincture (1k, lucifer/sam (referenced, past, noncon), lucifer/mary)

lucifer pov. s13ish. short and fucked-up <3.

[shadowoffandoms]

-emerges bloodied and bruised-

hi gravity falls fans I spent three hours translating the code from the contract, I became literally almost fluent in cipher. This is from this btw!

heads up translation might not be totally accurate, especially in one section. I was up until 1 AM doing this lol. Translation below cut!

You are now twenty one grams lighter

This contract is legal and binding. We reserve the right to use your likeness, face. voice and smell town place in whatever nefarious manner is deemed necessary. sans soul, your soulmate will not recognize you and will walk right past you on a cold autumn day, never making eye contact not even processing that you have eyes at all. No amount of interaction will move them to a place where they can remember, in feeling, the thousands of lifetimes you have already spent together, each time choosing whatever form would keep you closest like otters holding hands in a tumultuous river. You were birds, you were trees with roots entangled, drinking in the sunlight together. Wherever we go next, wherever you choose, I will always be right there with you. Thats done, buddy. Congratulations . you have chosen Bill instead. McDonalds reserves the right to put a giant yellow m on your torso and forehead and send you walking through a crowded times square while you scream “the fries, the fries, they don’t degrade in nature!!! It’s an immortal food!!! They will be in the landfills long past our deaths!! Good god! The things we've seen”- me? Who am I? Oh I’m Bill’s previous lawyer. He put my soul into a quill pen so I can write dis legal documents until the sun snuffs out like a candle in this sick universe. I used to be so hot. I was so fine. Now I’m fine print. Speaking of which, Bill reserves the right to put your soul into an inanimate object, a strange creature, a concept, a sentence, a tasteful but rustic mason jar with wildflowers in it. If at any point you wish to have visitations rights with your soul, you will be swiftly denied. Unless you had a cool day planned for the both of you, Then Bill might want to come along. By signing this document you forfeit any rights to eating soul food. It will turn to ash in your mouth. A fitting punishment for a fool who squandered the only true gift life owes you. Bill reserves the right to dress your soul however he deems necessary. Especially if your soul was a nerd before acquisition. Soulmakeoverrr! Your soul may become fractured and placed into different objects. This has no purpose and will not resurrect you if you die. Signee cas forfeited all rights to any afterlife, including but not limited to, heaven, hell, purgatory, big corner, flow state, the dream house, the reincarnation processing center, axolotl’s tank and consequences hole. Signee can no longer board the soul train and is advised to discard all bellbuttons. Signee can no longer have a puppy as a best friend, they can sense what is gone, cats are indifferent. Signee may experience occasional demon possessions from Horculus the Red, Plabos the Merciless, Borbos son of Bortem, Plaga the Ooaing and other such common demons roaming Earth searching for weakened, empty vessels. Tips for ripping your soul out at home: watching youtube commentary channels, attending an extended family event with an open bar, using generative AI and asserting that you're the creative, turning a blind eye to human suffering, amassing more wealth than needed, purchasing a blue checkmark.

[dreamytfw]

The Body

Characters: Castiel, Sam Winchester, Meg

Pairings: Cas/Meg/Sam, Cas/Sam, Cas/Meg

Summary: Meg possesses Sam to have sex with Castiel

Word Count: 6,559

Content Warning: Dubious consent and non-consent. Castiel's consent is very dubious and Sam is not a willing participant. Meg does not understand consent because demon, but she's trying you guys.

Notes: Written as a Secret Santa for @autisticandroids! Merry Winter and a Happy New Year!!

This is my first time writing Meg! Also I hand wrote a lot of this fic on my tablet, which doesn't always play nice with my handwriting, so there might be a lot of typos.

Read on AO3

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

Castiel didn't look up from the backpack he was filling lore books with as the door to the motel room opened, shut, and locked behind him. There was no need. It was just Sam coming back from taking their dinner's garbage out to the dumpster at the far end of the parking lot. Even in his weakened state with waning stolen grace, Castiel didn't need to eat. But after hitting yet another dead end while tracking down his grace, Sam suggested getting burgers to go from a local diner in an attempt to lift the angel's spirits. It hadn't worked, but it was a pleasant distraction and a kind gesture. Sam was always ready with a kind gesture when Castiel needed one.

He was caught off-guard, then, when he felt Sam's large hands close firmly around his shoulders and his tall form pull itself flush against Castiel's back.

"Sam? Wha–"

"Shhh," Sam's breath was hot against Castiel's skin as the younger Winchester nosed at the angel's neck. "You don't have to say anything. Just let me take care of you, Cas."

Something was wrong. Aside from Sam's sudden forwardness, he sounded… off. Something in his voice and presence was different. Castiel couldn't quite place what it was, but it was simultaneously wrong and strangely familiar.

"Sam, what's going on?" Castiel asked, dropping the book he'd been holding on the bed before attempting to turn around. Sam held him firm, though.

"Don't turn around," there was a sudden edge to Sam's tone as he nipped at Castiel's neck in both a warning and promise of things to come. But just as sudden as it came into his voice, the edge softened back to a saccharine tenderness. "It'll feel better if you close your eyes. Having less to look at lets you focus more on where I'm touching you."

Castiel swallowed hard, his mind reeling as Sam wrapped one strong arm around his chest, his other hand ghosting down across Castiel's stomach then dipping down to just under the waistline of his pants to very slowly pull his tucked shirt out. This wasn't like the hunter. 

As caring and sweet as Sam was, he nearly always shied away from showing any form of physical affection. The most contact they'd ever made were strictly platonic hugs. There were moments where Castiel wanted more – to reach across the table and place his hand over Sam's while they silently read, to gently cup his face and press his lips to his forehead in reassurance while healing him after a hunt, to stay in the other man's bed when he turned in for the night and keep watching Netflix while the younger Winchester slept quietly beside him. And there were times when he could swear that Sam wanted the same small gestures of physical intimacy as well. 

But there was always just enough doubt in the angel's mind to keep him from reaching out and taking things to the next level. Sam would look away after a long gaze or put physical distance between the two of them after standing close to each other while doing research for a case. Sometimes he would leave the room completely if Dean was around, which always stung something awful.

Sam wouldn't initiate intimate physical contact like this.

"Wait a moment," Castiel grabbed at Sam's wrists, attempting to ignore the goosebumps rising on his skin at the feeling of Sam's lips behind his ear. "I think this is something we should talk about before–"

"You think too much, Cas," Sam chuckled before licking a stripe up the angel's neck. His arms stayed wrapped firmly around Castiel's form. "Just enjoy this. When was the last time someone made you feel good, hm? Let me do this for you. Or to you. Whatever."

"This isn't like you," Castiel shuddered, still attempting and failing to extricate himself from Sam's arms. It didn't make sense. While it was true that Castiel was closer to human than angel at the moment, he should still be many times stronger than any human. Sam shouldn't be able to hold him like this.

"Isn't it?" Sam breathed in his ear, his lower hand working to nimbly unbutton Cas's shirt now that it was completely freed from his waistband. "You sure? We haven't been alone a lot like this. Maybe you just don't know me as well as you think you do. I don't know about you, but I'd like to fix that. Truth be told, I've wanted to fix that for a long time."

Castiel swallowed and closed his eyes, attempting to focus on the presence behind him. No matter how much he tried to concentrate, he couldn't place the strange Sam-but-not-Sam feeling. Of course, the way Sam's hand was dragging over and groping at his torso wasn't helping any, the warm pressure sending shivers up Castiel's spine.

He needed to be smart about this. Because he didn't know what he was dealing with, he didn't know if something was controlling Sam's mind and body or if this was a simple facsimile. Which means he didn't know if he could use force to get out of this situation. Mind control or not, Castiel refused to raise a hand against Sam.

"I, I think I would like that as well," Castiel sighed out, choosing his words carefully. "But not like this. We should… I want us to take our time. Do this properly. I want to be able to look at you while, uh, becoming more intimately acquainted."

Sam paused behind him, clearly needing to think about his next step.

"Sam, please."

Sam sighed out and shook his head while he resumed opening the angel's shirt. "I never knew you were so sentimental."

"I thought for sure you would be."

Sam hummed in thought and Castiel watched as his hand gripped his tie.

"Maybe we could compromise," Sam murmured.

Castiel didn't have time to ask what he meant before Sam was pulling his tie free from his collar. The next thing he knew, Sam was securing it around his eyes with his free hand and teeth, blindfolding him. Which meant whatever was controlling or imitating Sam didn't want Castiel to see his face. 

"I won't be able to look at you like this," Castiel protested, attempting to reach up and pull the tie from around his eyes. His breath caught in his throat as Sam's hands wrapped firmly around his wrists.

"I told you," Sam growled. The dark, warning edge in his voice was back. "It'll feel better if you can't see."

"But I want to see you," Castiel pleaded while Sam turned Castiel around to face him, hoping he sounded more sincerely longing than desperately trying to talk his way out of Sam's arms. "You're an attractive man. It would be a shame to not be able to see you at your most intimate."

"So you like to watch, is that it?" Castiel heard the smirk on Sam's lips before feeling it tease at the corner of his mouth. He pursed his lips, not wanting to give whatever this was the opportunity to shove Sam's tongue down his throat. Not when he was certain he could still talk his way out of this. 

"Look at that blush," Sam teased while peppering Castiel's face with kisses, his voice dropping half an octave with arousal. "I'm gonna take that as a big 'hell yes.' Gotta admit, the thought of you touching this heavenly body of yours while I get off? Let's just say it's going straight to my head."

Sam's hands were suddenly on Castiel's ass, pulling their hips flush to one another's. Cas's mouth fell open in a silent gasp at the feeling of Sam's hard girth against his own semi and he couldn't help his mouth from watering.

"Thought you'd like that, angel," Sam purred, one hand leaving Castiel's rear to press his head into Sam's shoulder.

"Please," Castiel whimpered. He braced his hands against Sam's chest as the other man groped his ass and rocked their hips together. He sincerely hoped this was something imitating Sam instead of something controlling the hunter's body. He didn't want Sam to find out about his feelings for him like this. Regardless of whether or not Sam reciprocated, he was sure it would destroy the trust and friendship they'd built up over the years. His mind reeled from both the fear of loss and a cloud of lust, both over the same man whose body was being used against him.

"God, you're so pretty when you beg," Sam said above him. His hips stilled against Castiel's, and the whine of protest had barely left Castiel's throat before he felt himself pushed back against the bed, the backpack full of lore books falling to the floor with a heavy thud.

"Tell me what you want, angel," Sam cooed as he crawled onto the bed, looming over Castiel. "I'll do my damndest to make all your dreams come true."

Castiel was frozen in place, his overcoat fanned out across the bed with his chest bare to the cool air of the motel room. He gaped, quietly panting as his brain refused to process what he'd just caught a glimpse of. His tie had slipped just enough for him to peek beneath it when he was shoved to the bed.

" Meg ?"

Sam's form sat back up from Castiel but didn't stand, his hips still pressed against the angel's. He heard the "tch" of teeth sucking while he reached up and tore the tie off. The moment he saw Sam, there was no mistaking it. He could clearly see Meg's face laid over Sam's like a gossamer mask.

"Well, guess that cat's out of the bag," Meg sneered with Sam's face above him. "Hey Clarence. Miss me? 'Cause I sure missed you."

"I don't understand. How are you possessing Sam?"

"You know as well as I do how fragile warding can be," Meg pulled the collar of Sam's undershirt aside just enough to show a long gash cutting through Sam's anti-possession tattoo, marring it and rendering it useless.

"Leave him. Now ."

"You really know how to make a girl feel welcome, don't you?" Meg reached down with Sam's hands and started trailing their fingers across Castiel's chest. He tried not to shudder or enjoy the sensation.

"Get out of him, or I'll–"

"You'll what?" Meg scoffed, tweaking one of Cas's semi-erect nipples. "You won't hurt me. Not while I'm wearing everyone's favorite meat suit. From the looks of things, you don't have the juice to spare for a smiting, even if you were okay with damaging Sammy's fine packaging."

" Deus, et Pater Domini nostri Iesu Christi –"

Sam's body lurched and snarled above him as Castiel began one of the highest rites of exorcism before Meg clamped one of Sam's hands over his mouth, pressing his head into the mattress so hard he could feel pressure behind his eyes.

"You'd really do that?" Meg demanded, clearly hurt and furious. "You'd really send me back to fucking Hell? Back to Crowley and his lackeys to be tortured for who the fuck knows how long?"

All Castiel could do was glare up at Meg. He could have sworn she knew better than to attempt something like this. Despite still caring for her against his better judgement, their history meant nothing together if she was going to endanger the Winchesters. He thought he'd made that abundantly clear years ago. 

Meg returned his glare for several moments before Sam's features settled into a sly smirk. She took his free hand and reached into Castiel's coat, taking out his angel blade.

"Try that shit again. I dare you," she warned, taking Sam's hand off of Castiel's mouth. Castiel didn't dare move as she raised the blade to Sam's wrist.

"You should know I would gladly burn through whatever grace I have left to keep Sam Winchester alive."

Meg threw Sam's head back and barked out a laugh before looking back at Castiel, sincerely amused.

"Oh, that's adorable! You think I'm threatening to kill him? Clarence, you should know better by now there are far worse things I could do to precious little Sammy Winchester. Things that would leave him begging for death long after I leave his body."

Castiel squinted at Meg questioningly before his eyes widened in horrific understanding as she made a shallow cut on Sam's wrist and held it centimeters away from the hunter's lips.

"Don't!"

"There's my clever Cas," Meg grinned. "Try that exorcism shit again, and I'll get Mr Blood Freak so high on his own supply, he won't come down for weeks."Dean-o will have no choice but to lock him up and throw away the key, leaving him all alone with all those fun hallucinations of Lucifer himself."

"What do you want?"

Sam's features softened into a wistful smile, and Castiel was certain that if Meg's features were capable of such tenderness, her expression would match Sam's perfectly.

"I told you, Clarence," Meg moved so Sam's body was once again looming over Castiel, bumping their foreheads together. "I missed you. And I heard you weren't doing so hot, so I thought I'd come cheer you up."

"How benevolent of you," Castiel deadpanned. "Though, I must admit, I don't see how harming and possessing Sam aids your quest for intimacy."

"Thought I'd spice things up for all of us," Meg shrugged. "We both know what fucking feels like in my usual duds. And while it's all that and a bag of chips, I'm curious how it feels in one of my old outfits."

"Excuse me?"

Sam's expression turned quizzical before Meg rolled his eyes with realization.

"Guess neither of the Hardy Boys ever told you. Figures."

"Told me what?"

"This isn't the first time I've worn Sam Winchester chique," Meg grinned triumphantly. "I'm the whole reason the two of them got those annoying anti-demon tats in the first place."

Castiel wasn't sure if he was grateful for the result or disgusted by how proud she looked about her possessions of the younger Winchester.

"Anyway," Meg continued, "Poor Sammy boy's been nursing a crush on you for years, and I figured possessing someone who wants to fuck you was better than someone who didn't even know you. That whole consent thing people are so gaga about these days."

Castiel gaped, not sure where to start.

"That's… not how consent works. That aside…" Castiel trailed off, his eyes sliding away from Meg's black eyes and Sam's hazel ones. He instinctively knew Meg was telling the truth, but he didn't want to let himself believe her. The elation of reciprocation threatening to fill his chest wasn't Meg's to claim. They'd already had their own version of that while Cas was hospitalized. He'd had a string of particularly bad days and she'd stayed by his side until he was lucid again. He came out of one of his episodes to find her holding his hand, and Castiel knew Meg cared for him; as much as a demon could care, anyway. What Castiel felt when he realized Meg cared for him was warm and peaceful. This light, giddy feeling that pressed against his heart was reserved for Sam alone.

Sam's hand found its way into Cas's hair as Meg brought her lips back to Castiel's neck.

"Don't tell me you didn't know," she purred in his ear, sucking on the angel's earlobe. "I noticed it the first time I saw you two together. He wants you bad , hot wings. And so do I."

Castiel gripped at the comforter beneath him as Meg ground Sam's still prominent erection down against his own. As tempting as her proposition was, Castiel would never forgive himself if he yielded and took advantage of Sam like that. Even worse, he knew Sam would never forgive him either. The only way he could let himself touch Sam while Meg possessed him was to push them away. And he was sure his hands would betray him if he tried to push Sam's body off of him right now.

"I know Sam," Castiel said through gritted teeth, trying his hardest to not enjoy the feeling of Sam's body over his. "Even if he does want me like you say he does, he wouldn't want this."

"Hm, maybe, maybe not," Meg hummed as she nibbled at the pulse point of Castiel's neck. "Guess we won't know until after."

"Meg," Castiel warned.

"Come on , Clarence! I risked my neck jumping these bones so I could jump yours. Stop thinking about everyone else for once and try being a little selfish."

"The last time I did something selfish, I committed a genocide in Heaven and unleashed the Leviathan unto the world."

"That was business," Meg dragged Sam's lips down to lavish Castiel's collar bone with affection. "I'm talking pleasure. You know, fun."

"I told you," Castiel rolled his eyes, attempting to angle his head to look at Meg. "I would have no problem enjoying your company in your usual vessel. This, however…"

Castiel felt Sam's mouth frown against his skin before Meg sat the hunter's body up, their faces drawn in frustration.

"Now Cas, don't tell me you're gonna make me make my own fun," Meg held up Sam's still bleeding wrist for Castiel to see. A cold terror swept through him at the thought of Meg forcing Sam to relapse, followed by a dull nausea at the realization that if she did, it would be because Castiel didn't comply with her request.

"Fine," Castiel sighed out, lifting himself up onto his elbows. "But we need to establish some rules for this tryst."

"I'm all ears, blue eyes."

Castiel narrowed his eyes up at Meg before his gaze drifted to the far wall in thought. He needed to thread this needle very carefully.

"Absolutely no penetration of any orifice. We have no lube or prophylactics, and my grace isn't strong enough to ease the process or heal the damage after," Castiel began. He wasn't lying: there really weren't any supplies in the room, none that he knew of, anyway. That wasn't his primary motivation, however. He was aware on some level of Sam's history with sexual trauma. Even if his hallucinations of Lucifer hadn't painstakingly reenacted everything he did to Sam in the cage, it didn't take much of a logical leap to figure out the generalizations. He couldn't do that to Sam, and he would not have Sam feeling like he violated Castiel.

"Boring, but fine," Meg rolled Sam's eyes. "What's next? No kissing on the lips?"

"It hadn't crossed my mind, but it's not a bad idea."

"Oh, honey, we've really got to socialize you better," Meg smiled lazily. "I was making a joke."

"Regardless, I still think it's not a bad idea."

"Guess I shot myself in the foot there, huh?"

"Next," Castiel continued, "We will not have skin-to-skin genital contact. Again, no prophylactics."

"You really don't have to worry about catching anything, Cas," Meg sighed, clearly getting frustrated. "I promise you, Sam's clean as a whistle."

Castiel merely glared at Meg, daring her to challenge him further. He continued on when she held up Sam's hands in quiet surrender.

"Finally, and most importantly: you leave Sam and return to your usual vessel immediately upon completion and you never do something like this again."

"Don't worry your pretty little halo about that," Meg purred, taking the opportunity to strip Sam of his shirts. "I told you, this was just to shake things up a little. No way am I stupid enough to try and permanently take up residence in a Winchester."

"But you're reckless enough to temporarily possess him for intercourse?" Castiel couldn't help but tease, slipping his arms out of his top layers before tossing his shirt and blazer to the side.

"Exactly," Meg giggled, running Sam's hands over his long, broad torso. Castiel watched, mesmerized. It was no secret that Sam took care of his body, and this was far from the first time Cas had seen the man without a shirt. But to actually have that body above him now, giving itself the most intimate of pleasure was hypnotizing. He hadn't often imagined Sam like this. Not for any lack of want, but because oftentimes he didn't need to fantasize about Sam in sexual situations. Thinking of him as is was usually enough for Castiel. The times he had imagined Sam debauched, however, could never compare to the reality that knelt over him right now.

Meg ran a hand over one of Sam's nipples and Castiel's mouth went dry at the way she made him bite his lip and the hum of pleasure that went straight between Castiel's legs. He watched transfixed as Meg ran one of Sam's hands down across his chest, over his abs, and across his hips before starting to slowly work at his belt. Once the buckle was undone, but before removing the belt, Meg traveled Sam's hand lower to grope the prominent bulge in his pants, his knuckles brushing against Castiel's own suddenly much heavier erection. 

Guilt and arousal were two emotions Castiel wasn't accustomed to feeling at the same time and he found it strange. He didn't want to do this to Sam. But if he didn't acquiesce to Meg's advances, she would do something far more damaging to the younger Winchester. Castiel did not want to enjoy this. But at the same time, seeing Sam's body aroused and wanting like this did nothing but make Castiel want him. And the more Castiel wanted him, the guiltier he felt for being forced to betray him. It was a vicious cycle that went round and round without end, forming a whirlwind of nauseous desire connecting Castiel's stomach and genitals.

All he could do was hope Sam forgave him.

"So how do you wanna do this?" Meg asked as Sam slid his belt out of its loops and tossed it aside. "I'm gonna guess hand jobs since you said blowies and proper fucking were off-limits."

Castiel licked his lips as Meg opened Sam's fly, wishing the visual didn't make his cock twitch in his uncomfortably tight pants.

"No. I, I thought it would be nice to watch each other," Castiel could barely string the sentence together, too distracted by the wet spot on the front of Sam's boxer briefs and the feelings it brought to both his heads.

"You saying you don't want to touch me, baby? After all this time?" Meg pouted, reaching down with Sam's hands and palming at Castiel's chest. Castiel shuddered and closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself enjoy the warmth of Sam's skin on his, whimpering as Meg pressed a thumb across one of Castiel's nipples.

"It's not you I would be touching, Meg," Castiel sighed out and grabbed Sam's wrists, opening his eyes and looking at Meg with a mixture of regret and resentment.

"Well that's just not true. You touch this body, you're touching me."

"No, I'm touching Sam ."

"Yeah, but I'm feeling it, so what's the difference?" Meg shrugged Sam's shoulders.

Castiel pursed his lips, trying to think of a way to make her understand. Or, if not that, then at least drop the subject and follow his lead.

"It's not the same as your other vessel," Castiel loosened his grip on Sam's wrists and slowly ran his hands up his arms. "The soul of the woman you possessed moved on to the next life a long time ago. Her body became yours, much like how Jimmy Novak's body became mine. Sam, however, is still in his body. And his is nothing like yours.

"Sam's body is large, hard, and angular," Castiel continued. His hands reached Sam's shoulders and slid down his chest, over his stomach, and around his waist as he spoke, his actions echoing his words. "Yours however, is smaller, softer, and full of curves. It's enticing in ways Sam's isn't. The softness of your lips and breasts, the dip of your waist and back, the shape of your thighs and arms; your body is temptation and deliverance all in one. Most importantly, I know your body. I know exactly where to touch and when to elicit whatever response I desire. I do not have that luxury with Sam's body."

"So you just want this to be good for me, is that it?" Meg gasped as she palmed Sam's erection with one of his hands, the other still on Castiel's chest. Based on her tone of voice and the blush covering Sam's cheeks and chest, Castiel could tell he was pushing her more towards compliance than understanding. It was always frustrating when Meg couldn't understand what he was trying to communicate, but there are just some things demons and angels will never understand about one another. He could probably explain his stance for hours and she still couldn't (or wouldn't) understand his viewpoint on this, because, when it came down to it, she was focused on what she felt regardless of what form she was in.

"I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"There's one problem with us watching each other," Meg sighed, moving back to stand Sam up to strip him completely. "I want you to touch me so bad."

Castiel sat up fully, his eyes involuntarily raking over Sam's form, unconsciously licking his lips as he eyed Sam's thick, leaking cock and thought about what it would feel like on his tongue.

"I can think of a solution to that," he said breathlessly as Meg began to slowly fist Sam's erection. "Sit on the bed."

Castiel stood as Meg eagerly obeyed, quickly stripping himself bare before kneeling in front of them.

"Thought you said no blow jobs?" Meg quirked Sam's eyebrow.

"I did. That's not what I'm doing," Castiel stated, rubbing his hands on the inside of Sam's thighs, parting them to accommodate his form.

"Then what–?"

"I'm going to watch you bring yourself to completion," Castiel explained, nuzzling his head low on the inside of Sam's thigh before leaning against it. "And I'm going to pleasure myself while I watch you from this vantage point. And I would very much enjoy having your fingers in my mouth during the process."

"Blow job without actually blowing me," Meg reached forward and cupped Castiel's chin, running Sam's thumb over his lips. "I'm game."

Castiel kissed Sam's thumb before Meg replaced it with Sam's index and middle fingers. Castiel had never felated someone before, but he'd watched humanity long enough to have an idea of how to imitate one. He lowered his eyes to Sam's hand and started gently kissing and licking at his fingers, alternating between quick short laps and broad flat licks up the length of Sam's fingers. Meg sighed above him and he saw her resume pumping Sam out of the corner of his eye. Castiel closed his eyes and sighed as he loosely gripped his throbbing cock, swirling his thumb over his head and smearing precum down his length to ease his own stimulation. He continued to lick, kiss, and suck at Sam's fingers until Meg was whimpering and moaning above him and he could feel Sam's thigh trembling against the side of his head.

He slipped the tips of Sam's fingers into his mouth and groaned around them. Castiel gripped himself tighter as his cock jerked and wept precum in earnest at the feeling of Sam's digits pressing a taste entirely unique to the hunter onto the angel's tongue. Sam's fingers were thick enough to give Castiel some idea of what it could be like to have Sam's cock stretching his mouth and twitching on his tongue. Even if Sam never forgave him for this and decided to permanently cut all ties with him, at least he would know what it felt like to have his lips on some part of Sam, the hunter's scent of old paperbacks and sage flooding his senses. He could almost pretend it was actually Sam he was pleasing.

"God, Clarence, you look so good with your lips wrapped around me."

Almost.

Castiel opened his eyes and watched Meg watch him as he pulled back and incrementally made his way down Sam's fingers, his lips never breaking contact. By the time Castiel made it all the way down Sam's fingers, Meg was swearing in Latin, a sure sign she was close. Apparently having Sam's fingers sucked was doing as much for her as it was for Castiel.

"Fuck me, those eyes ," was all Meg could sigh out before tipping Sam's head back. His eyes shut and mouth gaped in bliss as Meg pumped his leaking member hard and fast. Hitched breaths and short, whining moans flowed from Sam's throat into Castiel's ears, swirling into the whirlpool of shame and arousal in the pit of the angel's stomach and pushing him to the precipice of bliss.

He let out a pleading groan around Sam's fingers, sucking them into him until he could feel them at the back of his throat. He'd never been so grateful that angels lacked a gag reflex in all his life. The taste and feel of Sam inside him, the look of concupiscence on his and Meg's faces, and firmness of Castiel's own grip as he matched his rhythm with Meg's long and fast strokes made Castiel's head swim in a haze of heat and aching, yearning pleasure. It was better than he could have imagined. It wasn't enough. All he needed was a gentle nudge to fall into oblivion, and Meg knew from their previous liaisons exactly what would tip him over the edge.

"Oh god , Castiel!"

And there it is. Castiel's eyes shut of their own accord as his climax washed over him, his body shuddering as he spilled into and over his own hand, using his cum to lubricate himself and continue his stimulation. He was determined to milk this orgasm for all it was worth.

He was distantly aware of Sam's voice above him, but his brain was too clouded with pleasure to process anything Meg was saying. He was starting to come down when he heard a low, choked moan above him and felt a warm wetness streak across his chest and collar bones. Castiel's 2nd orgasm hit him like a punch, catching him off-guard. All he could do was grip himself just below his head while he spilled again, his jaw completely slack around Sam's fingers and his toes splayed.

The 2nd climax was intense, but shorter than the first, and it didn't take Castiel long to come crashing back to reality. Shame began to rapidly overcome the lust he'd felt for Meg and Sam. It was one thing to indulge Meg like this. Castiel didn't have a choice with the way she threatened Sam's sobriety and well-being. But for Castiel to enjoy that indulgence? He didn't ever see Sam forgiving such a grievous offense.

He heard Meg sigh out in satisfaction and felt her pull Sam's fingers from his mouth to cup his chin. Castiel didn't dare move. He couldn't even bring himself to open his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look at what he'd done.

"Oh, Clarence, why the long face?" Meg cooed, pressing Sam's lips to the angel's forehead. "You looked like you were having a grand time."

"Yes," Castiel muttered. "That's precisely the problem."

They sat there in silence for a few moments, the only sounds in the room coming from the small analogue clock on the nightstand and the rush of highway traffic several hundred feet in the distance.

"Hey," Castiel felt Sam's hands cup his face, giving him another moment where he could almost pretend it actually was Sam. Castiel opened his eyes to see Sam's face staring down tenderly at him with Meg's features straining to do the same. "There's no shame in enjoying what we just did. I wanted you to like it."

Castiel simply pursed his lips in response. He knew there was only the slimmest of chances he could make her understand why he felt disgusted with himself, and it certainly wasn't going to happen when Meg was trying to enjoy and get Castiel to enjoy their afterglow. 

Meg frowned when Castiel didn't reply, running Sam's hand through his long hair while sighing in frustration.

"Listen, you and Sam have been gaga for each other for a while now. I heard through the grapevine you weren't doing so great, and I missed you. I thought this would be a win for everyone. I was trying to help."

Castiel sighed, his expression turning sadly sympathetic. While it may have come too late for Castiel's tastes, he could tell there was some part of Meg that did feel remorse over this. Knowing her, she likely only felt bad for upsetting Castiel, but it was still more remorse than most demons ever felt about their actions, and it was the closest Meg was going to get to apologizing.

"I have no doubt you were, in your own way," Castiel wiped his cum-covered hand on the carpet before taking both of Sam's hands in his own, kissing the backs of them while keeping his eyes trained on the two faces above him. "And I would be lying if I said I didn't appreciate the thought behind this. However…"

"You'd rather have me in my body," Meg finished. That wasn't what Castiel was going to say, but it was a start.

"That's part of it, yes. But more than that…" Castiel trailed off as Meg's and Sam's faces fell even further. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I don't think now is an opportune time for this conversation. We had an agreement that you would vacate Sam's body once we were done."

"Cas, we can still–"

"And," Castiel cut her off. "This is a conversation I would prefer to have privately with no 3rd parties."

"You coulda just said that first," Meg rolled Sam's eyes, pulling a small smile from Castiel. 

Meg sighed and looked around the room for a moment.

"Well, guess I'll see you around Castiel."

"Wait," Castiel stood between Sam is still spread legs and walked to where he'd discarded his clothes. "Could you dress Sam before leaving him? I'm certain he'll want some modesty after what just happened."

"If you want me to stay, all you have to do is ask."

"Meg," Castiel warned as he pulled on his boxers and pants.

"I was just teasing, relax," Meg responded before going over to Sam's clothes and complying with Castiel's request. He turned from her while the both re-dressed. The least he could do for Sam was not leer at him as his body was covered back up.

Castiel finished dressing first and moved to wait by the door for Meg. It didn't take long for her to join him.

"So, you wanna go have that conversation now?" she asked, watching Castiel open the door for her before leaning against the frame.

"No. I think it's best for me to stay with Sam for now." Castiel was too worried about Sam and how he was reacting to not stay with him. "We could meet back here in a week if that's amenable to you." 

"It's a date," Meg learned Sam down and kissed Castiel on the cheek. "See you soon, lover boy. You and Sam have fun."

She stood and turned Sam towards the motel's parking lot before leaving the hunter, a cloud of black smoke billowing out of his mouth and into the night. 

Sam slumped against the doorframe, bracing himself against it before Castiel could catch and support him. He stared at Cas wide-eyed for a moment while getting his bearings, a mixture of fear, heartbreak, and dread. Castiel wished Sam would lash out and punch him. It would hurt less than the look he was giving him.

"Sam…"

Sam didn't say anything before turning and fleeing into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. The next thing Castiel heard was retching.

Castiel spent the next two hours painstakingly cleaning the motel room (after breaking into the janitorial closet for supplies) and finishing the packing he'd started after dinner. He could at least make the room look like nothing had happened. The shower ran nearly the entire time. Every now and then, Castiel would look at the bathroom door, unsettled by the lack of sound on the other side, and wonder if he should knock and check on Sam. Then he would hear more retching or a stifled sob and think better of it.

Castiel was seated at the foot of his bed staring at an open book without reading it when Sam emerged from the bathroom. He looked awful. He was pale and shaking. It was obvious he'd been crying, his eyes swollen and red. He'd broken blood vessels from vomiting, the pin pricks of red spotting across his face and largely concentrated around the corners of his eyes. The worst part was the hollow, defeated look in his eyes.

Sam and Castiel stared one another for several long moments. Castiel didn't know what to say. What could he say? He knew every single human language, but he couldn't think of a single word that could possibly bring any comfort to the man standing in front of him. Perhaps the best thing for Sam right now was space.

"I can go if you want me to." Castiel closed his book, bracing himself for Sam to shun him.

What he didn't expect was for Sam to shake his wet head.

"I don't. You don't need to…" Sam trailed off, his gaze fixed on the floor. "You can stay."

Casttel looked away from Sam. He couldn't stand how broken he looked, the knowledge that he had a hand in breaking him hurting so bad he couldn't bear it. Several more long moments stretched between them in silence.

"I don't know how to start talking about what happened," Castiel admitted, running a hand down his face.

"You have time to figure it out," Sam is voice sounded just as hollow and distant as he looked. "I can't… I don't think I could talk about it right now if I tried. But you should know: I don't blame you. I know you did what you had to in order to keep me safe."

"Sam," Castiel started to protest while looking up at him in shock, but Sam shook his head. Castiel watched him as he moved to his bed and began turning it down, his movements stiff and robotic.

"That was all I wanted to say. I don't have the energy for anything else right now. And I might not for another couple of days. But if you could still be here when I wake up…"

"Of course, Sam," Castiel answered gently. He watched the other man get into bed, jeans and all, his back pointedly turned towards Castiel. "Anything you think may help, just ask. It's yours."

"I know. I… I'll be okay. I just need some sleep first. We can figure the rest out in the morning."

"Understood. Would you like me to turn the lights off?"

"No, I'm fine. Goodnight, Cas." 

"Goodnight, Sam," Castiel sighed, turning back to his book. It was going to be a very long journey back to the bunker.