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bettystonewell · 3 days ago

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Yay - I knew this would be amazing! I’m so happy you ended up doing this ❤️

I’m still yet to watch much of The Boys and Big Sky - though I tried, and then realised I’m going to need to watch the whole of both and not just the seasons that feature Jensen 🙊 but I was still able to enjoy this and see each individual character❤️

I also haven’t seen Ten Inch Hero - what kind of person am I? I’m going to blame the fact that we always seem to get stuff here last in Australia, even though it’s close to 20 years old?…

Anywho - this is my favourite line from the whole thing (and not just because it’s Dean):

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler

I was imagining MEV reader again, and as I was writing this I kept getting myself confused because I’m relating her to Monica’s love of cooking. But Dean is a bit of a mother hen and fussy with the cleanliness of his room, so he’s definitely got some similarities with Monica there haha - role reversal when the ‘bossy’ one gets bossed - just go to bed Dean!

And unlike Dean, Chandler can admit he needs someone occasionally 🤣

I’m really surprised by Beau’s character. I’ve read a couple of fics where the big 3 were all present, granted they were crackish, but I was under the impression he was a little more grounded and sweeter? And I guess he probably is, I’ll give him a pass because he has the man flu, but I didn’t realise he was such a work-a-holic. Then again, he’s a sheriff, makes sense. And at least he listens eventually, even if there were a few, I’ll say instructions. Man runs a right ship. “And can you get me…”

I liked the below line from Ben, but I’m not going to lie, just dropping the f-bomb is what grabbed my attention (and again, there’s something wrong with me lol)

“Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?"

He’s just a dick, a grumbly one, but also a softie and wants some love deep down right? You won’t win it with yachts, mate, although I guess it’s worked for him before?

I’m going to see if I can watch Ten Inch Hero 🤞 - but now I really want to know if I was to read one of your Ben fics (being a super hero interests me the most), is there one I could read where I wouldn’t have to watch the show first? 👉👈 spoilers don’t bother me, I read supernatural fics set in the bunker before I’d even gotten there 😅 but I want to check one out and Break Me Down is looking very appealing ❤️

HEADCANON: Man Flu

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader

HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?

AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜

Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~

Dean Winchester

He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.

Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.

Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.

He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.

To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.

"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.

"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.

After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.

"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.

"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.

He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.

"You made this?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."

"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.

He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.

He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.

(He fails.)

After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."

Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.

He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.

You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.

You put your foot down one morning.

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.

"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.

"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.

He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.

"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.

"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"

"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.

"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.

"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"

"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."

You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.

"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.

"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."

"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.

"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"

"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."

"And some saltines?"

"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."

You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.

"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."

"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.

Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.

But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.

In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."

You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.

"No, I think you're sick."

"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."

Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.

It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.

"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."

He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.

Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."

You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.

"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"

"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.

"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.

"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.

He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.

Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...

Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.

Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.

He eats without further complaint.

You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.

"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."

He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.

Boaz Priestly

"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."

You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"

Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"

"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"

Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.

"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.

"That's six days old already," you shake your head.

"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."

Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.

You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."

He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."

"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."

He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Talk about Man Flu.

"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."

A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.

"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."

Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?

"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.

Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.

"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"

You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.

"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."

AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.

But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜

And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

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#headcanon: man flu #sick fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester #beau arlen x reader #soldier boy x reader #reading list #zepskies #lovely moots

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lovekawaas · 23 hours ago

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valentines day special! <3

how you celebrate valentines day with you jjk college boyfr!

ft: k. nanami, s. gojo, t. fushiguro, s. geto, c. kamo, s. kong

cw: none; not proofread

wc: 1.3k words

a/n: happy valentines day!! i hope you spend it with your special someone or those that you love!!

k. nanami

kento is such a romantic

the whole day is curated to you and you favorite things while also tying in part of your relationship from beginning to where the two of you are now

he brings you to a nearby cafe letting you pick out whatever you like, indulging in all of the sweets of your choice

after, the two of you head to a musuem letting the day pass you by as you wander inside

your time there is spent with lots of sweet couples pictures, long gazes at the paintings (or so you think, kento can really only ever stare at you), and hand holding as you pass through the gallery

when you leave, kento brings you to the bookstore where you guys met and lets you pick out any work you want

when you get back to his apartment, he tells you just relax, put on music of your choice while he starts to cook dinner for the two of you

you offer to help but he declines so you just sit on the counter and look pretty

while eating dinner, he tells you he has one last surprise for you: a gift

a letter to you that he wrote when you first started dating and a necklace with three gems on it: your birthstone, his, and the stone of the month in which the two of you got together

his thoughtfulness never fails to bring you to tears

c. kamo

it's a bit of a learning curve with choso because you're his first girlfriend ever!

he isn't quite sure where to start so he goes to the best place he can think of to get some advice: his younger brother yuuji

yuuji advice doesn’t help him too much; all he really says is that whatever he does he should do it from the heart!

choso is stuck and doesn’t want to ruin the day for you!

you are his first-ever relationship and he doesn't want to disappoint you or make you upset

he decides to use the skill that he knows best: his artsiness and creativity

ends up making you a vase at his ceramics studio to put some flowers for you in

he specially picked the floral arrangement himself so that it would be something you would like

also makes a beautiful painting of the two of you for you to put up in your room

vakentine's day with choso is full of heartful homemade gifts that really unleash and show his creative side

the night is spent with the two of you in his dorm room admiring the gifts that he got for you and lots and lots of cuddling

he opens up to you about his worries and how nervous he was to try and find you something that you would love

you calm his worries with a kiss assuring him that anything he could have gotten you would have been perfect

s. gojo

the most annoying charming man on the planet of course has to be the most obnoxious person on the day of true love

he's so cheesy and cliche but that's why you love him

he invites you over to his frat and when you get there he makes all the pledges serenade you by singing pony by ginuwine

it makes you cringe so hard watching fraternity men try to hit the right notes but you can only imagine how hard satoru made them practice so that it would sound just right for you

after their silly performance, he takes you out to a fancy restaurant and brings out all the stops: huge steaks, champagne bottles, chocolate cakes with sparklers coming out of them

the sauce on the side of the cake is heart shaped and there's a little ring placed in the middle

you see it and shocked you look back at gojo

he reassures you that it's only a promise ring but he can't wait for the day that he can give you the real thing

after dinner he leads you to his room, the floor leading up to the bed is covered with rose petals and on the bed they spell out "i love you" in the middle of a heart

you turn back to satoru and jump in his arms to embrace him for all the stops he pulled

s. kong

valentines day with shiu is a little bit expected, but not in a bad way!

the two of you go on a drive (because of course you do)

but the place he takes you to is a little bit different this time

you end up at a barren field in his hometown, far enough away from the city that the skies are so clear that you can see the stars out

you get there right at sunset so you can watch the beautiful view

of course, shiu will always think that the sight of you is much more stunning

he can't help but stare at you the whole time as you gaze off into the distance

once the sun goes down, he opens up the trunk of his convertible and reaches in to bring a basket of food for the two of you to share

a picnic under the stars with his favorite girl, what could be better than this

at the bottom of the basket, shiu pulls out a little red velvet box

a promise ring just for you that has your favorite colored stone on it

it's beautiful and makes you tear up just a little thinking about the future of your relationship

the two of you talk for hours, reflecting on your relationship and how far the two of you have come

eventually, he brings out a blanket too for you guys to sit on the field and cuddle

the night ends with his warm embrace and a kiss to your forehead as you guys cozy up in the fields looking at the stars above

t. fushiguro

before you, he never was a big fan of the holiday

he slept around campus a lot before you, having a long string of flings but nothing ever too long-term

but being with you gives him a new outlook on the holiday

when you sleepover in his room, usually he'll bring you home a bagel after his morning run

but on valentines day it's a little different

he comes home from his run with your favorite drink to start your day and a few donuts frosted with red and pink creams shaped like hearts

"happy valentines day ma" he tells you as he presses a kiss to your lips setting the donuts to the side on your desk

the kiss deepens starting to get more and more passionate (as things usually do with toji)

but before things can go any further you hear a knock at the dorm door and toji encourages you to answer it

you walk over to open it only to be presented with a pledge holding roses and a card

the inside reads "lovely flowers for the girl i love most. happy v day"

though it isn't with verbal words, this is the first time toji says he loves you (and he says it first)

closing the door behind you, you practically pounce on that man

no need for the gym on valentines day when you have toji and his dorm bed

s. geto

on valentines day, you and geto keep it very lowkey

he's not one for huge grand gestures but it's fine you really don't mind

that doesn't mean he doesn't make an effort at all for you

he calls you to tell you that he has a surprise for you and that he'll come grab you after your class ends

when your class does end you exit and find him waiting outside for you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers

Immediately you thank him, sealing your gratitude with a kiss

he's quite sentimental so when the two of you make it back to his apartment away from campus, there are pictures of the two of you from throughout your relationship hanging all throughout the living room

standing in shock, he leads you to the kitchen counter where cake and letter sit waiting for you

he baked it of course (because he's literally perfect at making sure that it was your favorite flavor with the frosting dyed your favorite color to match

the letter is a long exclamation of his love for you explaining how he felt when you first met all the way to how you guys are now

he knows he doesn't express himself too much out loud so he wrote it to show just how much he really does love you

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makeyoumine69 · 23 hours ago

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valentines with patrick pls but it ends with patrick being miserable 🙏

Perfect

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Can love truly conquer inner demons, or does walking away become the bravest Valentine’s gift of all?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Implied smut and a lot of angst.

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [MY IMAGINES AND SHORT REQUESTS].

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: My Darkest Days—Perfect💌

𝐀/𝐍: I want to wish everyone a happy Valentine's Day! Never stop believing in love! And thank you so much for this request because it fits my current mood a lot!💔

The more Patrick got to know you, the more he realized how pure-hearted and kind you were, literally perfect. And at some point he couldn't stand it anymore, because how could you be so perfect? Even the way you laughed was perfect and your smile was as bright as a summer day in New York. The very day the two of you met. And somehow, Bateman knew from the beginning that your presence in his life would change everything, including himself, and he was not ready or happy for that.

But the moment you opened the window in the dark room, you couldn't blame the light coming in and eliminating everything around you, because that's how things work in our world. Simple physical laws against which we are all helpless. And every single second that Patrick was thinking about why he couldn't hurt you physically or mentally, he was suffering from the stabbing pain in his chest, as if his heart was locked in the chains of molten iron.

The man was trying to find an answer that simply didn't exist.

Finally, in desperation, Bateman even considered asking you this question—what was so special about you? Besides the fact that you were just perfect for him? And maybe for the world? But every time he tried to question you, the two of you ended up lost in the fire of passion that you couldn't control, not that you really wanted to control it. Those raw, vivid emotions soon became his most addictive drug because he could finally feel himself alive. The intimacy he despised became a need he couldn't live without, and he was so damn grateful to you that you didn't see it as his weakness. You were just being yourself, accepting him as he was.

But when the woman loved a man and the man loved a woman, but in his twisted way, it couldn't be easy, even though Patrick really tried to make it work. He just knew that one day his own rage would take over and he'd kill you—never in his life did he feel so disgusted than when he imagined your blood on his hands. And it was weird as hell.

"...and we are going to have a little kitten," you murmured, sitting next to Patrick on the warm carpet by the fireplace. "Oh God, I never asked if you even like cats..."

Trapped in his thoughts, Patrick didn't seem to notice your small talk, but when you put your head on his shoulder, he flinched a little, but didn't push you away. "I, uh, never really thought about it," he replied, looking at you. "Tell me something, darling. Are you happy here?"

With a broad smile, you giggled and hugged his arm. "Of course I am happy! Spending Valentine's Day not anywhere but in Aspen seems like a dream!"

"Dream?"

"Yes, very much like a dream," you added, glancing back at him with your doe eyes, where the fire sparks were glimmering. "I know it doesn't seem like much to you. But to me it's like a winter fairytale come true."

Bateman hummed and instinctively pecked your forehead, then your temple, until his warm lips found yours; you didn't hesitate and kissed him back, hugging his strong neck and brushing his slicked-back hair a little. There was something desperate about the way the man held you in his embrace, but you overlooked it, unable to think of anything but the heat radiating from his sturdy body.

"I must say, you always have the best way with words," he whispered into your neck before nipping at your sensitive skin, sending little shivers through your slightly trembling form. "And I like it."

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing when Patrick rubbed his nose against your neck and unintentionally tickled you. "Uh, Patrick!" You snickered and turned away from him. "Too many compliments from you today. Did something happen?"

Silence fell over the spacious room, only the faint ticking of the fireplace could be heard for a while before Bateman pulled you onto his lap and pressed you against his chest so you could hear his steady heartbeat—the soft material of his sweater felt so comforting you thought you were going to burst into tears from how much you loved this man.

"No, nothing happened," he finally replied, stroking the top of your head. "Just a little nervous about the main surprise I prepared for you."

"Huh?"

"After we're done with our planned events, I'd like to present it to you," Bateman cupped your face, his lips curled into that classic boy-next-door smile that always had the most charming effect on you. "So, have you ever been to the hot springs?"

Before heading out to the best springs in Colorado, not far from Aspen, the two of you made snowmen and played snowball before you decided to compete with Patrick in strength, trying to knock him down only to end up being pushed into the big pile of snow. After laughing for a while, Bateman noticed your slightly offended look, and the next thing you knew, the man turned around and fell on his back next to you, leaving you both giggling at how silly you both looked. But you didn't care because you were lying together in the snow, holding hands and looking up at the sky, which was so clean and white, as if it was covered with snow as well.

Was this even real?

Later, in Glenwood Springs, you found out that there were almost only two of you, and that privacy helped a lot when you were swimming naked in the hot springs, exhaling the white steam because the temperature around you was quite low.

Skin against skin, his eager lips on yours, drowning out all the little moans that tried to escape your trembling throat as he rubbed your swollen folds while you were both still submerged in the water. You wanted to claw at his skin, leaning on his shoulders and throwing your head back to give him more space as he kissed you here and there.

Patrick, mmhm, please, don’t stop.

The man longed to etch those words into his mind, along with the intoxicating sensation of owning you in every possible way. And if your soul could be touched, he could swear he would touch it with a tenderness he had never known before. Because finding someone with a pure soul was something so rare these days. Something almost surreal. Something Bateman secretly thirsted for, but realized too late.

When you came back to Aspen to the luxurious winter house he rented, you spent a dear hour reading The Great Gatsby and even though Patrick kept commenting on how stupid and pathetic it was of Gatsby to try to impress an arrogant bitch like Daisy, you both enjoyed the evening anyway because you could listen to him read the passages forever—his voice was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Still, you never really confessed it to him, thinking he would call you silly and... too romantic? Too emotional?

Emotions, emotions, emotions.

Having sex with someone doesn't mean you have feelings for them. Loving someone doesn't always mean it will last forever. Only losing someone feels like something permanent. And Patrick couldn't let that happen.

When you were busy cooking something for dinner, Bateman literally came out of nowhere, hugged you from behind, and inhaled your scent with his eyes closed. Every little detail of you mattered, every little thing—the way you exhaled in surprise, almost jumping up, and the way you were embarrassed when he slipped his hands under your top to tease your nipples, making them hard and sensitive. And as the pot slowly simmered on the small fire, you both worshipped each other, giving everything you had, until Patrick reached his limit and lifted you up only to place you on the kitchen counter, wiping everything from its surface. Almost immediately, without wasting a second, the man began to undo your pants, kneading your breasts and leaving wet trails of kisses along your belly, and when he reached your mound, he nuzzled against it and you could swear you saw his eyes shimmer, but not from fire or anything.

Were those tears?

…

You kept asking yourself the same question a month later.

How many times did you read the notebook he gave you as his "main suprise" for Valentine's Day? The gift that unintentionally broke your heart and made you doubt if you could ever fall in love again. Holding a small notebook in your hands, you opened it and traced a finger along his somewhat chaotic handwriting, then the little doodles he made, until you turned several pages and stopped on the last one, where a beautiful doodle of your little figure was drawn. And that short phrase written in the top right corner that said 'I love you', that always made you cry, but after reading it so many times now, all you felt was a void. As if everything that made you feel alive had been erased from you in the most brutal way.

Why did he leave you like this? Why couldn't he just tell you that he had met someone else? Probably someone more beautiful by today's standards. Someone he would be proud to show off in public. Why did he choose to use the fear of hurting you as an excuse? Why?

You would never believe it. It was just impossible to believe that the man who treated you like his treasure could leave you because he was afraid of hurting you, because he thought you would find someone "better", because he thought he didn't deserve you at all. Covering your face in your hands, you closed your eyes and cried, the notebook falling to your feet. But the words written inside had already left deep scars on your mind.

"...all those days when I thought about losing you, I realized that I was so selfish, thinking only of myself and never of you. So now I'm finally thinking about you, my love. Please don't cry, I hate to see you cry. And please forgive me for everything I've done. There won't be a single day that I don't think about the time we spent together. I just want you to be happy and ALIVE. With me...that wouldn't be possible. I love you...I'm sorry. I really am."

The rain fell in a steady rhythm, tapping against the windowpane like a melancholy melody. Patrick stood in the shadows, just beyond the glow of the streetlamp, his coat damp and clinging to his shoulders. From here he could see you through the frosted glass of the café, sitting alone at a corner table, a book in your hands. You looked the same, but different.

Concentrating on reading, you laughed at something in the book, and the sound carried through the glass, piercing his chest like a blade. Bateman wanted to go inside, to sit across from you and tell you everything—how he had never stopped loving you, how he had watched you from afar, how he had spent every day since he left you trying to become someone worthy of you. But he didn't move. He couldn't.

Because he knew that even now, after all this time, he still wasn't enough.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #slasher fanfic

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enthuzimuzzyme · 19 hours ago

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A Matter of Life and Death

A Disneyfied Retelling of the Famous Underworld Love Story

Introduction:

There once was a lonely king...

Who was tasked to eternally watch over the deceased and the damned under the earth. Sounds familiar, right? We've all heard that story told a million times before, in a million different ways. But, despite all the misfortune that befell him, Hades remains, to this day, a living testament to the power of love.

How? How could a grumpy, ill-tempered death god really represent the power of love, you might ask. Well, I'm about to tell you– in about twenty chapters.

This is a story about how the bitter Lord of the Underworld came to meet his much beloved Queen, and the controversy their unlikely union has stirred up over the millennia.

Chapter One:

New Beginnings Meet Old Endings

Spring. Hades thought bitterly. Again.

The Lord of the Underworld watched with glowing eyes as a single flower petal bobbed slowly passed his nose. Snatching it out of the air in one swift motion, Hades reduced the leaflet to embers in a small violet puff of smoke. Hermes, who’d been relaxing on the bow of an olive tree nearby, eyed him discomfitly from his perch.

“The appeal continues to escape me.” Hades jeered, flicking flakes of stiff gray ash away from his fingers.

Hades was on one of his semi-regular reconnaissance missions, gathering any salvageable blackmail material he could on his brothers. Since his retrieval from Tartarus, he’d been under close observation by his Olympian constituents. They couldn’t risk another titanic fiasco.

Poor Hermes had even (begrudgingly) been assigned his not-so-temporary chaperone. How hard could it be? Zeus had mused. Report any suspicious behavior back to me. Which had sounded simple enough at the time, but everything Hades did seemed suspicious and keeping him out of trouble proved more difficult than Hermes could’ve imagined. Especially when it was a slow day in the Underworld.

Suddenly, a faint orange glow—like a loose beam of sunlight—caught Hades’s attention from some distance away.

“Who is that?” Hades whistled. Hermes turned to see what could possibly be interesting enough to distract him from grousing about Spring.

The messenger god squinted through his spectacles and caught a glimpse of her.

Across the field from them, standing under an apricot tree, was a woman. Only, Hades judged by the way she glowed, and the way she was able to simply poof! fruit out thin air, that she couldn’t possibly have been mortal.

The pair of deities were close enough to this mystery goddess that the hankering God of the Dead could just make out how lovely she was; long copper curls, gentle, focused green eyes. Even from this distance, her benign disposition washed them both in a warm, comfortable sense of ease — the kind that Spring was known for. It was almost as if she herself was the season incarnate.

One by one, the goddess continued plucking fruits lazily from the branches and dropping them into a basket at her feet.

Hermes adjusted his spectacles, just barely catching an eager Hades by the neck of his chiton with the arc of his caduceus.

“Whoa, whoa— cool it, Ace. That one’s off limits.”

Hades tossed his hands down at his sides in frustration and rolled his eyes.

“What’s the big deal? Geez, it’s like you topsiders are committed to keeping me from having a love life, like honestly.”

The messenger deity wafted around Hades with ease, tossing a thumb over his shoulder toward the mystery goddess.

“You know who that is, don’t you? That’s Demeter’s kid, man. Hustling her is a huge no-no.”

“Hustle? Please — who said anything about hustling? I’m just trying to get the gal’s name.”

Hermes tilted his little purple spectacles down with a skeptical look. The Lord of the Underworld ignored him.

“So, you know her?” Hades had an all-too-familiar and unsettling gleam in his eye. The Lord of the Dead threw an arm around Hermes’s shoulders and offered him an impish grin.

“What’s her name, huh? Hermes, babe —throw a death god a bone, will ya?”

Hermes looked about ready to protest when all the bells went off in his head at once. Ding! Ding! Ding! — maybe he was onto something here.

With Hades distracted — and happy —chasing a wife around like a love-struck puppy dog, he and the rest of the Olympians could take a load off. No more half-baked schemes or hostile takeover attempts. No more pointless intrusions or aggressive come-ons. And most importantly, Hermes wouldn’t have to take time out of his already overbooked schedule to babysit. They’d be sitting pretty for the rest of eternity. It was perfect.

At the poor gal’s expense, He thought only slightly ruefully. Or not, maybe by some miracle she’ll actually like him.

They’ll work it out, a desperate Hermes concluded mentally, waving his hand in the air, trying to ease his slightly guilty conscience.

“What are you asking me for? You should ask her yourself, you know— the old-fashioned way.” The messenger god shrugged nonchalantly with a smile teetering on sly, tapping his caduceus in his open palm.

Hades fluffed out his chiton and smoothed back his smoldering coiffure.

“Sit tight, flyboy, and watch the master at work—”

Now, it would have been difficult to miss Hades’s broad physique looming above her like a black cloud, blocking her strip of sun, but if she knew he was standing there beside the trunk she didn’t acknowledge him. The beautiful mystery goddess simply continued to pick tiny golden fruits off the tree and drop them into her already overfilled basket.

Hades cleared his throat after a few moments, and she looked up at him only briefly.

“Look— harvest complaints are Demeter’s department.” She said, a pinch sourly, “I just work here.”

“If you have a problem with this year’s crop, take it up with her.”

Hades blinked.

“Seriously? That’s what you think I’m doing?”

She eyed him for a moment. He waited for her to show some sign of recognition, but the goddess didn’t even flinch. Hades gestured toward her with outstretched hands.

“No offense, but your Ma was the last thing on my mind when I saw you standing over here— I mean, c’mon, really? Pretty little thing like you, all by yourself? I’da been a fool to pass up the opportunity to introduce myself.”

He thrust out his long skeletal fingers in greeting as if to shake her hand.

“Hey, how ya doin’? Hades, Lord of the Dead, Reaper of Souls, yada yada. You get it.”

She chuckled softly and swept bronze curls over her shoulder, her tenor lightening some. She manifested another perfectly ripe apricot on a low hanging branch.

“Oh, I’m familiar.”

Hades pursed his lips and steepled his fingers with a smirk.

“I see my reputation precedes me— what am I, some kinda celebrity up there on the roof of the world?”

“More like a felon,” She retorted with a dry smile, turning back to her work. Charmed by her repartee, Hades appeared on the other side of the tree and leaned forward onto the trunk.

“That’s cute— you’re cute— Well, you know, beggars can’t be choosers I guess but, hey— I saw you standing over here, all by your lonesome and thought you could use some company. What’s your name, chickadee?”

The mystery goddess popped out a hip and rooted her palm to it. Hermes watched Hades’s desperate flirtations, amused, and slightly hopeful, from a safe distance. He’d half expected the almost entirely anti-social Persephone to brush Hades off immediately and was pleasantly surprised that—somehow— the God of the Dead had held his ground.

Hermes crossed his fingers behind his back. Home stretch— here’s hoping he doesn’t blow it.

“Take a wild guess.” She replied. Hades’s reputation for hitting on nearly every unattended goddess in the Pantheon wasn’t lost on her, but she was bored, and this beat the hours she’d otherwise be spending listening to her mother wax poetic over a tablet of annual crop output.

He rubbed his hands together and grinned.

“Oh, Ho Ho— you’re not going to make this easy on me, are you? Let’s see, let’s see…”

The Lord of the Underworld slumped coolly against the trunk, scratching his chin thoughtfully. He studied her with a bold and scrupulous eye. Hades wasn’t one to back off in the face of a challenge, and for someone who lacked patience in pretty much every capacity, he had a knack for getting himself mixed up in long-term plots.

“Judging by your accoutre— very lovely, by the way, really brings out the green in your eyes— you’re some… kinda… nature goddess, am I right?”

“You’re getting warmer.” She tapped the tip of her nose, tickled.

“Something springy— like uh, Juniper? Nah. Jennifer maybe? Josephine, Jacqueline?”

The goddess rolled her eyes, and he could tell he was beginning to get under her skin, “What were you the god of again? Annoying people to death? You aren’t even going alphabetically.”

“What can I say? I like to start in the middle and work my way out,”

Hades walked two fingers up the ridge of her shoulder where she swatted them away casually with the back of her hand. Unbothered by her annoyance, Hades smirked. Sensing he was finally starting to wear her down, the death god dug his heels in and leaned closer to her.

“You know what, I think I’ve got it— Jane right? Maybe it’s Julia? Johanna? Listen babe, I can do this all day.”

“That’s it—you’re impossible.” She threw up her hands with an airy, exasperated sigh and bent to gather her spoils.

Hades chuckled, reached around her and stole one of her apricots. The goddess lifted a brow and pursed her lips.

“You know babe, I’m pretty sure this is the longest any goddess has tolerated me, like ever, I’m starting to think I’m growing on you...” He wiggled his brows at his own pun, rolling the fruit back and forth in his palm as it shriveled into a wrinkly, indistinct lump, decaying nearly instantly at his touch. She let out an exaggerated groan of disapproval.

“Unbelievable. He makes jokes now.”

Hades wiped his hands clean on his chiton of the rotted apricot juice and gave a defensive shrug, gesturing animatedly at her person.

“What? That was some of my best material. C’mon, seriously, Petals— can I call you Petals? — what’s a guy gotta do to get a girl’s name huh? You want me to dance a jig? I’ll do it, don’t tempt me,”

The goddess set her closed fists on her waist and sighed wearily.

“You really aren’t going to leave me alone until I tell you, huh?”

Hades examined his fingernails and gave her an obstinate shake of his head.

“Persephone,” she said finally, extending out her hand to him. “Goddess of Spring.”

Hades’s face lit up with a smug look of satisfaction. Using her outstretched hand as leverage, he pulled her in just close enough that she could feel his breath on her face.

“Charmed,” He hummed, pressing a loud kiss to the back of her hand.

“So, Persy—"

“Persephone—"

“Yeah, yeah— right, right— Persy,”

Before Hades could finish his thought, Persephone carefully pulled her hand away from him with a pleasantly bemused smile. Stepping backward, she bumped the heel of her sandal against her basket of apricots.

“Sorry— Hades, this has been fun, but I know for a fact I’m not supposed to be talking to you and I’m sure you don’t want to get caught wandering around up here, so….” Persephone tossed her hand up in a parting gesture before collecting her fruit basket and leaning it expertly against her hip. Judging he had maybe a matter of seconds before she left and never came back, Hades lifted his hands haltingly.

“Yeah— and if you know anything about me, then I’m sure you know I don’t follow the rules very well.” He insisted, following closely beside her.

Persephone quirked a brow.

“Hold on— listen, listen,”

Hades floated around her silently like an early morning fog rolling off the Aegean. It might have bothered Persephone how quiet and quick he moved had she not already seen him do it once before. He plucked a freshly opened apricot blossom off the branch closest to them and delicately pinned back her hair with it.

“You’re alone— I’m alone, what say we be alone together, huh?” He clasped his fingers together, “You look like you could use a break, and I could use some feminine company,”

He expected immediate rejection. Every moment she spent not turning her nose up at him was, in his mind, a tiny victory. He figured it was now or never — cast in his line and see what he caught.

“You mean, like a date?”

“Yes! Exactly like a date, you read my mind,”

She seemed to consider his request. Which to him was a good sign. Hades felt a long-buried part of himself begin to feel hopeful. What were the odds he might find himself so close to success? About as unlikely as you’d think.

“As tempting as that sounds, we just met and—" Persephone smiled, delicately unpinning the blossom and placing it in his open palm, “I’m on duty,”

“Semantics. C’mon, the world’s not gonna end if you play hookie for a day. What are you, miss-goodie-two-sandals or somethin’? Don’t you ever cut loose?” Hades crossed his index finger over his heart, “I promise I’m a better time than I look—"

When she still didn’t seem convinced, Hades began to feel defeated. Across the field, the messenger god hovered.

That’s my cue.

Hermes appeared beside Hades before he could protest further and whispered behind his hand into the Lord of the Underworld’s ear,

“Tell her you’ll bring your dog— chicks dig dogs, works like a charm.”

Hermes grinned at the shrewd Persephone innocently. Hades straightened out the clasp on his chiton, cleared his throat and folded his hands once again.

“Listen— I’ll bring my dog.”

“Cerberus—?”

Hades nodded. Her eyes glittered.

Eagerly, and with considerably less hesitation than either visiting deity expected, Persephone yanked forward on Hades’s sleeve and blurted out an excited,

“Deal!”

#A Matter of Life and Death #fanfiction #Disney's Hercules #Hades & Persephone #writing #original character #oc x canon

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holylulusworld · 3 days ago

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Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (5)

Summary: Bear. Ari. You.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, unplanned pregnancy, remorse, we love Bear, fluff, jealous reader

This story is part of my Lumberjack Tales masterlist

Catch up here: Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (4)

This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. You just can’t help it. Food orgies are your latest passion.

Today, you sneaked out of the bedroom to have a little breakfast by yourself, knowing Ari doesn’t like the food you eat.

“That’s disgusting,” Ari wrinkles his nose. He retches as lately your cravings started to kick in. “Baby, eat something healthy. This is no good for you or the baby.”

Right now, you’re sitting on top of the kitchen island and stuffing ice cream mixed with pickles into your mouth. You giggle as he turns around to not watch you eat the nightmare you call food.

“It tastes good,” you hum to yourself before shoveling more of the disgusting food into your mouth. “You’ve got no clue how good it tastes.”

“I can imagine,” Ari snorts. He opens the fridge to get a yogurt out. “Ice cream and pickles for breakfast is not the best idea. You’ll feel awful.”

“Aw, but your cum for dinner was alright?” You point your spoon at Ari, smirking as his cheeks flush. “What? You let me eat dick for dinner and did not complain.”

“Bear, I think our little tramp gets cocky.” Hearing his name, Bear immediately gets up from his favorite place in front of the fireplace. He trots toward you to sit next to your feet. Bear darts his tongue out to lick your feet, making you giggle.

“Bear! No Bear,” you squeal and giggle. “Bear, stop.”

Ari throws his head back, laughing as you try to stop Bear from licking your feet. “Bear, you beast. That’s my job.”

“Bear does it better.” You wink at Ari before burping ungracefully. “Ughh…My stomach doesn’t agree with my appetite, I’m afraid.” Running one hand over your slightly swollen belly, you groan. “I think…I’m going to…”

Ari is quick to pick you up and run with you into the bathroom. He opens the toilet lid, helping you as best as he can as you empty your stomach into the bowl.

“I told you to not eat strange things.” He soothingly runs his hand over your back. “Do you need some tea? I’ll brew you a nice cup of warm chamomile tea, and maybe, you can have some rusks.”

While you try not to huff, Ari keeps on talking about all the things he’ll get for you. He helps you back up, waits for you to rinse your mouth, and immediately picks you back up to carry you inside the living room. You end up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.

Bear follows you and Ari. He jumps onto the couch, making it creak as he lies down, his head resting in your lap.

“Bear you…beast,” Ari sighs. Since you’ve been back, the dog won’t leave your side. You can barely use the bathroom without the dog following you inside. “I told you to not crowd her all the time.”

“He’s my sweetheart,” you coo and pat Bear’s head. “Right, Bear. You’re the sweetest dog ever. Do not listen to him.”

Ari shakes his head and laughs. “If he suffocates you with love, I won’t save you. He’s a big dog and heavy.”

“You’re heavy,” you sass back. “And you love to pin me down too. You big hairy beast.”

Quirking a brow Ari looks over his shoulder. “You’ll beg me to pin you down soon enough. Pregnancy hormones will drive you up the wall, and you’ll drip for my cock.”

“Oh, is that all you read about when you sneak out of bed to read books about pregnancy? You only think about pinning me to the bed and putting another baby in me?”

“Little tramp, you shouldn’t tempt me. If the baby pops out, I’ll shove another inside. You’ll give me a house full of little tramps if you do not stop making me hard all the damn time.”

You chuckle. Ari is a man possessed. Needier and hornier than ever, he talks about breeding you almost every time you have sex. He’s a sexy beast, and you wouldn’t want it differently.

“You love it, don’t you?” Ari hums while carrying a tray inside the living room.

“Now you will drink your tea and eat some oats. I’ll drive to town to buy some rusks and more groceries later. You can make a list if you want to.”

Bear lifts his head to watch Ari hand you the cup. He huffs and lies back down. Ari is not a threat. Only a current when it comes to your attention. “I’ll come with you. Fresh air is good for the baby and…”

“And?” Ari questions as he sits down next to you and Bear. “What’s the matter, little tramp?” He grins, already knowing what’s wrong. You've gotten possessive over him lately too, and he loves it.

“I do not trust the girl at the store,” you mutter under your breath. “I saw the way she looked at my man. Not on my watch, missy!”

“Missy?” Ari snorts. “You know that I only want you, right?” He looks you deep in the eyes. “Who else would drive me insane but you?” Ari kisses your cheek, making you feel warm. “But you can come with me if it makes you feel better.”

“You can bet your sexy ass on it. I won’t let her touch you,” you sniffle, close to tearing up. “Fuck, I hate hormones.”

“You’re cute when all hormonal, little tramp,” he purrs and wraps his arm around your shoulders. Ari kisses your cheek, feeling content with you in his arms. “What do we want to buy?”

“More pickles…and ice cream…”

“There,” you grunt as you jerk your head toward the girl at the grocery store. “She did it again. That bitch looked at you.”

“Baby, she didn’t look my way.” Ari tries to calm you, but it’s useless. You’re close to ripping the girl a new one as she dreamily glances at Ari. “I swear.”

Looking Ari up and down, you huff. “You’re too sexy. The lumberjack plaid, your tight blue jeans, the beard, the hair,” you narrow your eyes. “I need to put you in a potato sack.” Nodding to yourself, you plan on keeping the girl away from your man.

“You know, I’d rock that potato sack,” Ari cockily replies, smirking as you pursed your lips. “Only for you, of course.”

#Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (5)#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #x reader #tw: pregnant reader

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scullygazer · 2 days ago

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Hello! Happy Valentine's Day everybody. This is for @xf-cases-solved , and the POANG Pals Valentine's Day exchange 😊I really hope you love it and have an amazing day 💖🤍❤️

This Was Not in the Forecast

(Set during The Rain King)

“I’m sorry, I know this isn’t convenient”

All of Mulder’s things from his former motel room had been transferred into Scully’s. Needless to say, it had been a rough trip already for the both of them.

As she unlocked the door, Scully sighed. “It’s not your fault, Mulder” she said. “You don’t need to be sorry”

“I just feel like I’m … you know… intruding” Mulder said. While he had been in motel rooms with Scully before while working on cases to either talk work stuff or occasionally to eat dinner together and watch a movie on TV, he had never shared one with her. How it would work for them was a completely different story. Did they share the bed? Did one of them sleep in the bed and the other on the floor? "It's her room" Mulder thought as he braced himself for a night sleeping on the carpeted floor. He had guessed it was cleaned before them checking in but how thorough they were with that was another question. His couch would feel like a California king after this.

“Mulder, you can have the bed tonight, you need a good night’s sleep after everything”

“No, I can’t do that to you. You didn’t throw that cow into my room. It’s not fair to you. I’ll take the floor.” Mulder replied. He was used to sleeping in weird positions on his couch. Even when he had a bed, he slept on the couch the majority of the time. He liked watching a late-night movie and often fell asleep before the end. Getting up after that felt like a waste of time to him most nights.

“We can share. It's okay.” Scully finally said after a few moments of silence.

He looked at her, somewhat surprised that she had actually said that.

Scully sensed his confusion at that suggestion. "I'm serious. We're adults. We've known each other for years. It's fine" she said.

Mulder was surprised to hear her say that even though it had been what he had been thinking. He proceeded with caution, he wasn't about to push his luck. They both got ready for bed. Fortunately, his luggage had survived the cattle damage and he didn't have to worry about not having anything to sleep in.

Later that night….

“God, why couldn’t they have given us a bigger bed?” Scully said, annoyed. It was a queen size she had thought originally. It might actually have been a full. At this moment, she felt like it was a twin size. She scooted over, trying to give Mulder some extra room for his much-longer legs, but she accidentally rolled herself off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Scully, are you okay?” He leaned over to check. She was fine, just startled.

Mulder moved over some more in the bed. After a few seconds of recovery from her fall, Scully got back in the bed. Mulder rolled over carefully to not have his own mishap and then he faced Scully.

“You okay?” He asked

“Yeah, it didn’t really hurt” She replied. “I’m fine”

Mulder reached out and put his hand on Scully’s shoulder. She gave him a little smile even though she was barely awake and then closed her eyes and was probably asleep within five minutes. As a man that frequently struggled with insomnia, he was envious.

The next morning

Scully had set the alarm clock for 5 AM, which Mulder hadn't been aware of. The sudden beeping completely startled him and he nearly fell off the bed this time. There had been a few quick moments where he had woken up in the middle of the night and he would catch quick glimpses at his sleeping partner and smiled. She was adorable and looked so cute peacefully sleeping after her fall.

After leaving the class of 1979 to enjoy the rest of their night, the trip back to the motel was fairly quiet and uneventful. Scully couldn't stop thinking about her mini-speech to Sheila in the bathroom. Was Mulder now more than just her friend? Was he the only person she could imagine being with? She had no idea where the whole thing came from, but she heard herself and her words repeating in her head over and over again during the car ride home. As Mulder parked the car, he could tell that even though his partner was only inches away from him, her mind was a million miles away.

He tapped her shoulder gently. "Earth to Scully! Earth to Scully!" he said, jokingly. At one point in time, that would maybe have been met with annoyance and/or an eye roll from her. This time, she playfully moved her body away, giggling.

She smiled at him. "Sorry" he said, kind of pulling himself back. He could tell that Scully was more or less amused by that wakeup call. He then grinned "just my way of getting a little revenge for this morning. Who gets up at 5 AM?" He said, now laughing.

"Mulder!" Scully replied, now laughing. This was it. This was exactly what she had been thinking about earlier. Their relationship was definitely rooted in friendship. But was it more now? She wasn't sure how he felt. She had her suspicions. There had been a huge shift in their relationship, especially since their return from Antarctica. If tonight Holman had been brave enough to confess his feelings, couldn't she do the same?

"Scully, have you ever gone to a high school reunion?" Mulder asked as he got out of the car.

"I haven't actually" she replied, getting out and closing the door behind her. He looked at her, perhaps expecting her to elaborate. "I moved around so much as a kid. At the time that I graduated, I had only gone to that school for three years. I barely knew anybody. What about you?"

He chuckled "I've never gone either. I didn't really have a lot of friends and I don't really care to see anybody from there again. I couldn't wait to get out of there back then." Despite his confession, he was still smiling.

They started off to their room and Scully began to rummage through her purse, in search of her room key.

Once it was in her hand and her hand was on the doorknob, Mulder placed his hand on hers as she started to twist the knob. She looked up at him, curiously.

He gazed at her, this time he couldn't deny it. He gazed at Scully and he was proud of it. He then moved in to kiss her.

Her lips met his. He placed his hand on her back and she moved her hand to the back of his head. Somehow it automatically became the most romantic moment of either of their lives. High school boyfriends and college girlfriends be damned. This was a million times better.

They opened the door together.

(Author's note: I hope this was good. It had been an idea of mine for years to write a follow-up "one bed" fic for this ep and the time felt perfect given your mention of the trope in one of your ask responses)

#poangvalentines2025 #xf-cases-solved #my fic #X-Files fic #Xf fic #MSR #The X-Files

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dragonagegayz · 2 days ago

Text

Wherever You Go, I'll Be Right Beside You

Rating: Explicit

Game: Dragon Age The Veilguard

Pairing: Lucanis x Rook, Rookcanis, Lucanis x TransMale!Rook

Word Count: 14,700

I didn't intentionally write this with my Rook in mind but uh yeah, it def my Rook, he even gets named dropped so sorry friends

also, I did not mean to write 14k I was really aiming for like 4 and then just 10k more of stuff, I am so sorry lol

Summary: Too long Rook and Lucanis have been separated after the defeat of the gods, so the leader of the Veilguard returns to Treviso to surprise his lover. Reunion sex ensues and all the emotions that come with that.

Warning: I am a trans man author and use cunt/clit to describe Rook's junk!

Title comes from the song "Steady Hand" by Saint Motel

Ao3 link

After saving the world from ending, you’d expect the one who was the leader in all of it to probably get some sort of break from responsibilities, they did save the world after all. Unfortunately for Rook Thorne, such a luxury was not available to him and he quickly found himself running all across Thedas to try to tend to hundreds of different things for those who helped in the fight against the Evenuruis. Helping the Veil Jumpers reestablish their footing in Arlathan, trying to get the Shadow Dragons back into power in Minrathous, focusing an effort to return balance to the Necropolis after the fade nearly fell, and of course, helping the leadership of the Grey Wardens establish a new purpose for the organization and for those who chose to stay as Wardens. It was good in a way, helping those in need was a calling Rook always answered which helped him to see his team fairly often even after going their separate ways. The elf had made a lot of friends in the journey doing so and to be able to see what those relationships bloomed into was one of the perks of it all to him. Especially with the Grey Wardens, being a part of his group’s history from curing the calling to discovering their new call of duty felt important, vital even. Rook loved it, he truly couldn’t deny that.

But he also couldn’t deny the desire to just stop for a moment and relax, to take a moment to breathe and see his work before charging head first into the next thing.

And it would be incredibly nice to see his lover again.

It had been at least a month since he’d seen Lucanis and their last interaction had been so brief Rook hesitated to even call it anything but a figment of his imagination. They had met for coffee in Treviso, Cafe Petra of course, and while their date had been wonderful, it had barely lasted an hour before the First Talon had to be pulled away, as did the Grey Warden. They barely got to share a kiss before they parted, a short peck of their lips together, and a promise of more from both men. Well, neither had expected it was going to be another month before they would see each other again. Had Rook known that, he wouldn’t have let his lover out of his sight for at least 24 hours, maybe even 48. Perhaps it was dramatic but to know he was only going to be able to talk to Lucanis through letters for such a long time, he would have done everything and anything to just hear the man’s voice in his ears for as long as possible before being forced to part.

Rook knew he wasn’t the only one feeling the distance though, the more days they spent apart, the more sad the First Talon’s letter became. More little details of pet names, more mentions of longing and missing the elf. There were even a few times where Spite would write too, angry lines of asking when Rook would return and even one time about how he missed his smell. When he wrote a response, the elf made sure to dab a little of his cologne on the paper, the response he got was from a single sheet of paper with a giant thank you written on it. The grey warden still wasn’t sure which one of them had written it.

So, after a long, grueling month without seeing his lover, Rook decided enough was enough. After making sure the Grey Wardens weren’t in desperate need of his assistance anywhere, he let Evka and Antione know he was going to Treviso and wasn’t sure when he’d be back. Evka had given him this knowing look but for as much as she teased, she always understood. Antione did too, ever the romantic, and even made sure to assure Rook as he was leaving for Antiva to not worry about things in the Wetlands. “We’ve got it here, go and see your First Talon!” He yelled as he practically pushed the other warden into the Eluvian.

By the time Rook got to Treviso, night had already settled over the city. Which didn’t mean much for its citizens, even with the sun set the markets still buzzed with people, cafes, and casinos full of patrons to please. However, it also meant the attendants at House Dellamorte would most likely be in bed and if there was one thing Rook hated more than anything, it was being a bother, especially in his lover’s home. Lucanis had tried to assure him that it was fine and that his home was Rook’s home but it was intimidating, to say the least. Rook had grown up in a 4 roomed shack where they had to use an outhouse, the mansion was nauseating for him to even stand in, let alone try to stay at. It just always felt strange and with Caterina being there too, the Grey Warden always just felt it was best to avoid it. Either way, he found that getting a room at the inn was usually the best way to avoid interruption from the Crows when with their First Talon. What could Rook say? He knew it was selfish but Lucanis was the one thing he was proud to be selfish about. He was the elf’s lover, after all, not the Crow’s.

He always ended up at the same inn, one located right in the heart of the market district. He liked the atmosphere it gave the rooms he rented, Rook would crack the windows open a bit to let the noises of the Treviso city life filter through, it became a low buzz in the back of his brain, almost as a way to fill the empty space left by the blight no longer in his body. And so, when he had exchanged his gold for the room, (the attendant knew who he was, thanked him for saving the world, and tried to offer the room for free but Rook refused) that was the first thing he did after setting his bag down. This time, however, the elf threw the whole window open, letting the cool sea air hit his face as he looked out over the markets. It was lit with those cool-toned lights, and there was that wonderful low murmur of people talking, making sure to be quieter since it was night after all. There were clinks of glass, gentle clashing of steel, and the occasional mewing of the cats that laid lazily around the city. It was comforting, a reminder that everything Rook had worked for with the Veilgaurd meant these people could go about and live their lives. It was humbling and gratifying to know he was a part of it.

Rook was ready to pull away from the window, to get changed and head to bed, ready to rest up to surprise his lover in the morning but a flash of feathers caught his eyes down at the market stalls. He squinted a bit to see and as soon as he realized who he was looking at, he sprinted from the room, nearly forgetting to lock the door in his haste. The elf stumbled through the halls, apologizing to the group of people he had run through and usually, he would be far more eloquent with his apologies but all he could do was yell out a “Sorry!” Over his shoulder as he ran out into the street. On the way down Rook managed to calm himself into a brisk walk instead of a sprint, the markets too busy for him to be running like a child. He quickly made his way to the stall he saw from his window.

There, with his back to Rook, hands on his hips, and head tilted to the side was the First Talon of the Crow’s, evidently deep in thought as he pursued the seller's wares of the stall he stood at. Rook noticed they were weapons, specialized daggers it seemed with the variety he saw laid out. A certain one caught his eyes, so he cleared his throat loudly which made the Crow in front of him pause. “I’ve heard Wyvren Tooth Daggers are good, I’d recommend it if you haven’t got one,” The Grey Warden watched as for a brief moment the other man tensed, before he very quickly spun on his heel to look at Rook. Their eyes met and, as it always did when they reunited, Rook’s heart thumped hard in his chest.

He didn’t even get to open his mouth to talk again when Lucanis practically barreled into him, arms wrapping around his waist and the elf was lifted into the air as the spirit wings popped from the Crow, spinning the Grey Warden around as the other man buried his face into the crook of Rook’s neck. He couldn’t help the laugh he let out, especially when he felt a gentle inhale from the man’s nose. “You’re home,” A raspy voice said, it was happy in tone and the elf couldn't help but place a kiss on the man’s temple. “I am, Spite,” He said gently, giving a squeeze to the arms around him. He could have sworn he heard a quick purr.

Then Lucanis looked up at him, face barely pulled away from his neck and Rook swore his heart turned to goop as those big brown eyes looked at him as if he was the only thing in this world. The elf placed his hands on either side of Lucanis’ face, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re here, you’re really here” The Crow said. Rook giggled quietly at the deja vu of his words. “I am,” He confirmed, opening his eyes again to look into the other’s brown ones. There was awe in his eyes, almost like he was in disbelief to be holding his lover in his arms again. That made Rooks hard beat in a much more pained way this time, so he just pulled the man in close, letting their lips meet for their first kiss they got to share in over a month.

Kissing Lucanis wasn’t like the way the books Rook would read had described it to be. It wasn’t about sparks flying or this intense overwhelming feeling that would make his head spin. It was warm, all-enveloping but in this comforting way, the same one someone gets after getting home after a long stretch away. Safe and loving, it was something the Grey Warden never thought he was ever going to experience. Yet here he was, in the arms of the First Talon of the Corw’s no less, in the Treviso Marketplace with fingers digging into his waist and the lips of his lover so generously making up for lost time. Then the hands on his hips began to wander a little further up, playing with the buckle of Rook’s belt when he pulled away with a laugh, much to Lucanis’ disappointment. His pout was what some may call unbecoming of a Talon of the Crow’s but the elf loved it. “We’re in public,” He teased, finally straightening up enough so the two were standing, the assassin now a few inches taller than the elf again. He got another frown in return once again made him laugh, lifting his hand cup to the other man’s cheek who buried his face into it, Lucanis laid a kiss on the palm. “I am First Talon, I can do as I please,” He grumbled into the hand. Rook smiled up at him, placing a kiss on the man’s cheek, which he trailed to his mouth where they once again met in the middle, this time though he didn’t let Lucanis deepen the kiss as the Grey Warden pulled away, causing a very, very quiet whine to leave the human.

“I have a room at the inn,” Rook said, nodding towards said inn which got him a hum of disapproval from his lover.“I still don’t understand why you don’t just come to the estate, we have plenty of room,” The crow mused, it wasn’t angry more curious than anything and the elf just shrugged. “You know me, I like humble sort of quarters besides,” He leaned in, placing a kiss on the earlobe of the taller man. “We’ll be alone,” It was a whisper; words meant only for the Crow. Usually, Lucanis would fight a little bit more about getting Rook to the estate, always saying how he felt bad how his lover felt the need to stay in an inn instead of his home but there was a look in the man’s eye that said all the elf needed to know. ‘You’re right, we’ll talk about it later,’

They shared another kiss. This time when Lucanis pulled back, there was purple in his eyes and a vague sense of displeasure. “Why are we still standing here?” Spite asked in his choppy, unpleased way which only made Rook laugh, lacing their fingers together and pulling the other man towards the inn. “Ok, ok. C’mon before someone decides they need the First Talon,” He joked. There was a squeeze to his hand as the Crow followed his steps. “They will have to pry us away from you,” This time Spite’s voice and Lucanis’ seemed to overlap which made the elf smile. Even after saving Caterina, it was hard to get the two to agree sometimes but they always agreed about Rook. From wanting to pamper him to giving him their sole attention, they both just wanted him to have the best treatment they could provide. He was spoiled for attention by the two and he was more than ready to make up for the lost time in the month he couldn’t see them.

As Rook guided his lover to the Inn, he could feel those eyes on his body but he knew it wasn’t a lustful stare at him, but those big brown eyes looking at him with reverence. If the elf were a betting man, he’d put all his money on the fact Lucanis was probably thinking something along the lines of “I am so lucky,” As he so often did when the two got together. When they passed the threshold of the inn, another squeeze came from where their hands were still intertwined. “To be yours,” A dreamy sigh. “I am the luckiest man alive,” The crow whispered, pulled the Grey Warden close for a moment, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his pointed ear. Rook had to laugh at that, a silent victory of knowing his lover so well as they continued to his room.

Finally, the two made it, nearly running into a group of crows on the way (The same group Rook had barrelled through earlier, he had a feeling if they saw him with the First Talon in tow there would be questions so they chose to go all the way around). When the door clicked behind them, the elf found his hand dropped but very quickly he was crowded against the opposite wall, hands on his hips before he was spun around. Before he knew it, Lucanis practically attacked his neck with such vigor he accidentally bit down a little too hard. There was a yelp from the shorter man and the other apologized with a gentle lap of his tongue to the probably bruising love bite. Reflexively, Rook swallowed down his moan, letting his hands fall on top of where the other’s hands were. A growl came out. “I like your noises,” Spite spat at the Grey Warden. It was him who moved next as a thumb dug into his newly acquired hickey making him yell out in surprise. The answering chuckle was laced with both the demon and the man’s laughter, which made the elf huff. “This feels a bit like two-on-one,” He said softly, trailing his hands up the other man’s arms slowly, letting himself feel the elegant lines of his lover’s muscle arms through the First Talon’s jacket. He couldn’t wait till it was discarded away so he could get a full touch. “Spite wants you to know how much he missed you too, I think,” Lucanis mumbled against the elf’s skin, still buried in the man’s jawline giving a mix of the most body-worshipping, loving kisses with much gentler love bites in the mix. Rook laughed, feeling the sensation of his throat vibrating where his lover was pressed against. “Well I missed him too,” He said softly, with a teasing smile on his lips. One last kiss was placed on his neck before the other man pulled away, eyes half-lidded with a ghost of a smile on his lips, almost like he was nervous.

“Did you miss me?” He whispered like he was afraid to speak too loud. Rook sighed, a dreamy, love drunk sigh as he pushed himself from the wall, standing up straight with a slight tilt to his head as he looked up at his wonderful lover. From this close, Rook could see the bags under his eyes though they weren’t as bad as they had been when the two had first met. Lucanis was now at least getting more consistent sleep though he once confessed in a letter that without Rook at his side, he found sleep elusive again. The Grey Warden understood that, he too found sleep hard to get without his lover’s arms wrapped around him. Sometimes he could swear he could feel something around him some nights, always joking to himself that it was Spite who managed to find him through the fade. Lucanis brushed Rook’s fallen bangs from his face. “Of course I missed you,” The elf whispered back. A grin formed on his lover’s face and very quickly, the two’s lips met again and unlike their last ones, this had a hunger underneath the exchanges.

Hands began to drift, wandering with curiosity as the two very slowly made their way to the bed. Tongues met as the Crow spun Rook to be the one to sit on the bed, and bent down to continue their exchange as his tongue so lovingly lavished the elf with attention, mapping out the other man’s mouth like he was starved for his taste, or like Rook was going to vanish from his arms. When they pulled away, the Grey Warden chuckled as he trailed a finger down the other man’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere,” He promised. Lucanis paused for a moment, surprise on his face before he shook his head, climbing to straddle the shorter man, hands being placed at the base of his skull before the man pulled the elf into a much more aggressive, attention-needing kiss.

Moans were enchanged, the vibration of them filling each other’s mouths and the subtlest moves of each other’s hips against the other. The two never moved very fast or aggressively when they had sex, it wasn’t a competition, it was supposed to be a shared moment in time between the two and they wanted to savor every moment of it. (There was also the two’s lacking experience but they knew each other’s bodies well enough now that it wasn’t an issue anymore) Especially after being away from each other for as long as they were, while they didn’t talk about it they simply understood this was meant to be an exploration of each other. To allow each other the touches that they have been denied by distance for a month. So when Lucanis pulled away, chest heaving ever so slightly as he tried to pull air into his lungs, he slipped away from his lover’s lap and began to work on his outfit to undress. For a moment, Rook simply watched with reverence, absorbed by the man’s skilled, dexterous hands undressing himself with the cunning that only a master assassin could wield. Temptation ate away at the Grey Warden and he eventually stood to join his lover, helping to remove whatever buckles and straps he could get his hands on.

As the man undressed the two were in silence, the background of the Treviso market still there but turned to that low buzz in Rook’s ears. After a few minutes of this, the Crow stopped to kiss his lover, and the Grey Warden continued his work for him. Very quickly though, Rook found himself in a losing battle the the numerous buckles and ties. When a semi-frustrated curse fell from the man’s lips Lucanis chuckled at him before taking over once more.

Finally, the main part of the outfit lay discarded to the side of the bed, leaving the man only in a long shirt and pants. Anticipation at seeing his lover’s body gnawed at him but when Rook reached out to the bottom of his shirt, Lucanis’ hands stopped him a teasing smirk on his lips. “Your turn,” Was all he said, nodding down to the other man’s outfit. A grumble of annoyance came from the elf and he stepped back, ready to start throwing clothes from his body but the other man shook his head, stepping forward to start working on removing the man’s shoulder pads. “Gentle,” He chided, eyes focused on the task at hand. The Grey Warden huffed but followed the instructions, working on undoing the other metal shoulder plating from its spot, both finishing at the same time and Lucanis took them in both hands, gently setting them on a nearby desk earning a laugh from the other man. “You throw your stuff to the side but treat mine so kindly?” Rook teased, accepting the kiss the assassin leaned down to give. What was supposed to probably just be a brief come-together became more slowly heated, once again Lucanis letting his tongue explore his lover’s mouth with great respect, the best kind of worship.

When he pulled away there was a haze to his dark eyes but still, he continued his work, sliding the heavy jacket from Rook’s shoulders. “Your armor is an extension of you, I would never treat you unkindly, why would I treat what protects you so?” He answered with a murmur. Blood rushed to Rook’s cheeks as he looked away from the man, letting himself be moved so the other could pull the coat from his arms. “You and your words sometimes,” The elf mumbled earning him a breathy chuckle from his lover who just placed a kiss on the tip of his nose before he continued his reverence undressing. It was a slow process, the assassin so careful with each buckle undone and with each new piece he removed, he’d so gently place it on the desk, neatly organized for later retrieval. Rook glanced over to his lover’s outfit on the ground. “Well now I feel bad about yours,” He muttered with a bit of an embarrassed tint to his voice. Lucanis shook his head, pulling the thick gloves from the elf’s fingers, kissing his knuckles once the skin was revealed. “Never feel bad for me Rook. With you in my life I want for nothing, I have all I need and all I feel right here,” The words were so soft, that the elf could feel the move of his lover’s lips against his skin where he continued to kiss each knuckle, switching to the other hand once he finished with that one.

Worship didn’t feel enough of a word to describe Lucanis’ actions but it was the closest the Grey Warden could think as he watched the crow continue to undress him and with every inch of skin reveal a new kiss was placed upon it. “You make me speechless sometimes,” Rook whispered like it was something he was afraid to admit. Usually, the man had a quip for anything and everything, always a smart word on his tongue and he was especially good at it at the beginning of his and Lucanis' relationship. He was the one to tease the assassin into a blushing mess, purposeful remarks to watch his ears turn a wonderful shade of red but now, Rook found himself at the mercy of his lover’s smooth words. Maybe Lucanis was getting lessons from Crows on wooing, maybe Spite’s influence gave him more confidence or maybe he just was more comfortable saying what was on his mind, no longer held back by nonexisting self-worth and belief he didn’t deserve the love Rook gave him. The elf hoped (and knew, truly) it was the latter. There was a hazy high that came with the thought that the First Talon of the Crow’s felt these things for him, and after all the two went through to get here, it felt well earned. There was a smirk on his lover’s face once Rook noticed Lucanis had been talking to him but the Grey Warden had been too absorbed in his staring and thoughts he didn’t even realize.

“Uh, sorry what was that?”

The answered chuckle he got was low, as his lover shifted his focus to the chest plate, fingers caressing down his sides as he found the buckles. “No no, I want to know what is on your mind that has the indomitable Rook so flushed in the face,” The tease was playful, only worsening the elf’s blush as he squirmed under the touch of the Crow’s wandering hands. “I’m just glad you’re comfortable with me, to be like this,” Rook mused, humming when his lover leaned down for another kiss. When they pulled away, Lucanis had his chest plate in his hand, once again turning towards the desk to place it down. When he turned there was a gentle encouraging look in his eyes, trying to get the man to continue his thought as the taller man started on the Grey Warden’s belt and the sash under it. “You never hold back what’s on your mind, you didn’t use to do that when we first met,” Rook continued, watching his lover swiftly remove what he was working on, again placed with reverence. Lucanis had even folded the sash up. A hum came from the man as he turned back, now working on the ties on the long sleeves, lifting the elf’s left hand to his mouth, laying a kiss on the exposed wrist, and going up the arm with each new tie undone. The Grey Warden could only sigh under the attention, allowing himself to be moved however Lucanis wished.

“You were very intimidating back then,” His lover whispered against his skin, which made Rook choke on a laugh only to earn a raised eyebrow in response. “You truly were,” The words were teasing but still honest, he could tell by the way the Crow so earnestly stared down at him even as he switched to the other arm, following his set pattern of untying and lavishing any exposed skin with gentle, loving kisses. “How?” The Grey Warden asked, voice quiet as he watched how in-depth his lover was with his administrations of attention. Nothing was left untouched, unloved. “You were and are, a whirlwind of force Rook. You shine bright, always managing to undo my clouds of despair and it scared me,” Lucanis explained in a soft voice, hands now wandering to the last piece on the elf’s body from his armor besides his boots, pants, and shirt. The elf chuckled, going to pull the last part off himself but the Crow stopped him, instead leaning in to lavish the other side of Rook’s neck with kisses and bites as he had done before. “I was holding onto my own clouds of despair then too,” The elf muttered quietly, letting his hands go to the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in closer. “Yes, and yet,” The words were muffled against Rook’s skin, each emphasized with another kiss. “You still helped with mine, and how lucky of a man I am that you did so,” Again, with each word a kiss was laid on the Grey Warden’s skin, going closer to the man’s ear. “For now, you are mine, and I need not ever worry of those clouds when I have you here to shine for me,” The words were whispered in his ear, Lucanis’ tone akin to a priest declaring the love for the Maker and how his kindness shines down on the people. It made Rook shiver, to bite down on his lip as he stopped a whine.

A rough bite to his earlobe and growl spoke of Spite’s displeasure of him hiding his sounds again. “S-sorry,” The elf said quickly, turning his head to meet the lips of the demon in a way to apologize more thoroughly which pleased the spirit as he hummed into the kiss. When they parted, the brown eyes had a playful tint to them and the Grey Warden rolled his own with a giggle before tugging on his lover’s shoulders. “How much longer must I wait to see all of you?” His ask was akin to begging, and he knew he should have been more embarrassed but at this moment, a heated need began to burn in his gut. Desire made him impatient when Lucanis seemed to find more self-restraint in the throws of passion. (Until right before his peak, any restraint would leave the door as he finally allowed his emotions to overwhelm him) Thankfully, he was not feeling totally cruel as the Crow removed the last piece of the man’s armor, laying it on the desk before turning to face Rook again. He saw something on the elf’s face that made him smile fondly, which made the shorter man’s cheeks heat again.

“Sit on the bed, Amor,”

The pet name was said very quietly, it was something Lucanis was still getting used to trying. He had once said he’d seen the way Illario threw them around when working for the Crows, how insincere they felt, and how the First Talon had developed a distaste for them. But through their letters, through their time together he started to understand the desire to call his lover these things. While still very hard, anytime he did, the rush that would run through Rook was like nothing else. No one had ever said things like that to him and Lucanis being the one to do it, both learning to use those terms together made it truly something special. Before he followed the instruction to sit on the bed, the elf pulled Lucanis down for another kiss, this time being the one to have his tongue slip into the man’s mouth, taking his time to explore what he could reach, lifting up to the balls of his feet to get a better angle. He tasted of coffee, of course. A resonating moan from his lover vibrated in his mouth and Rook responded in turn, making sure to make his noise as loud as he could. There was a rumbling pleased purr. With a laugh, the Grey Warden pulled away, leaving one last kiss on the assassin’s lips before he took a few steps back to the bed, sitting himself down and leaning back, having his arms on either side behind him to hold himself up. He basked under the eyes of Lucanis and Spite, one eye the man’s and one the demon’s as they looked down at him with a grin on their face. Once, Rook shied away from any sort of attention like this, it always felt fake, flawed in some way that made him feel like men only wanted his body, never with the Crow, this was different.

Lucanis loved him, he loved Lucanis. They had these heady emotions for each other before ever having sex. It hadn’t important to either of them. They wanted these emotions between the two of them before that step and it just made everything so much sweeter, better. Were Rook delirious, impaired, and loose he would scream it from the rooftops of anywhere he could get to, talking about the overwhelming love he felt for the Crow to any poor soul close enough to capture his attention, and had they never had sex, it wouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t about that, it was about their love, their worship of each other through words, through emotion. But when they did have sex, it was unlike anything else the elf had ever experienced, a special raw feeling that Rook knew he’d never share with anyone else. He didn’t need to, he had Lucanis.

The Grey Warden watched as the other man knelt down in front of him like he did all that time ago, right after they recused the elf from the gods prison. They stared for a long moment at each other, the assassin’s hands coming to rest on the smaller man’s knee, squeezing it. A question Rook realized, as the other man tilted his head. No words needed to be exchanged, this was what happened every time they did this, a question of consent, a chance to end things before they got too far. Lucanis would follow whatever the elf wanted, if he were to shake his head, the man would stand up, place a kiss on the other’s forhead then prep them for bed and the two could fall asleep in each other’s arms. That wasn’t what Rook wanted though. So he nodded, making sure to lean down to place a kiss on the other’s lips, in a way of saying ‘thank you for checking’ as he did every time.

A hum vibrated against his lips as they kissed and when the elf pulled away, Lucanis' hands drifted to his boots, tugging it a little as a request to have better access which made Rook lift the leg slightly, to give the other man an easier time as he pulled it off. As reverent as with the other parts of the Grey Warden’s armor, he set the boot to the side, and when he turned back he lifted the ankle of the leg to his mouth, leaving a kiss to the bone that protruded out before setting it back down. He did the same to the other leg, boot off, set aside, ankle kissed, leg set back down. When the Crow looked back up, eyes big with love, Rook had to lean down again, kissing with more pressure to try to convey the feelings that welled in his chest. He tugged at the man’s shirt, trying to get him to straighten up which he did but before the assassin could straddle the elf, like he probably planned, the Warden stood spinning them around and then pushing the man so he was the closest to the bed but he shook his head when Lucanis asked if he should sit. As they kissed, Rook’s hands traveled down to the hem of his lover’s shirt and he paused, pulling back from their kiss.

“May I?” He asked quietly, to not break the spell that was over the two of them.

There was no hesitation in Lucanis’ nod. Trying to match his lover’s moves, Rook made sure to take the process slowly, taking his turn to kneel in front of his lover and lavish his skin with every inch exposed as he pushed the fabric up. He didn’t miss the notable bulge in the Crow’s pants either but chose to ignore it in favor of exploring the skin he finally had revealed to him. As the elf followed up the man’s happy trail he added those love bites in between his kisses which earned a breathy moan from the other. When the Warden got to the man’s rib cage he made sure to press a kiss to each rib, making sure to get both sides as he trailed further up. When he passed the man’s nipples he made sure they also got attention, each earning a kiss and gentle bite which made Lucanis jerk a little, back arching as he let out a low groan. “Tease,” A raspier voice bit out which Rook chuckled at. He continued further up, Lucanis helping him finally slipped his shirt off and they stood face to face, chests nearly touching. The elf leaned up, being met halfway by his lover and when their lips met, Rook grabbed ahold of the man’s waist, digging his fingers into the fabric of the other’s pants as their kiss deepened. The Grey Warden made sure to let whatever noises he could slip from his lips the few times he and Lucanis parted as they continued to kiss, a pleased rumble came from deep in his lover’s chest.

Eventually, Rook had started to tug on the man’s pants, eager to get them off but the assassin stopped him with a gentle press on his hands and a chuckle, nodding down to the elf’s shirt. The elf grumbled but simply took Lucanis’ hands, guiding them to the bottom of his shirt before letting his hands drop as the man finally grabbed it and started to pull it up. Unlike the rest of his body, the Crow decided to explore his torso with his hands rather than his lips, dragging his fingers up as he slowly pulled at the shirt. The Grey Warden couldn’t help but squirm under the feeling, the vague, light ticklish feeling of not enough to get him to laugh but defiantly something he felt. Especially when the man went over his scars from the blood magic he had used to transition, their sensitivity never really goes away. His very observant lover had realized that the first night they had slept together, cracking knuckles and outright cries nearly spooked the man but Rook had assured him, it wasn’t bad; just sensitive. Now that evil man knew just how to use the right touch to to get a gasp from the elf and the evil demon always favored it as a tactic too. Usually, they would gang up on the poor Warden to get a reaction. Today though, it was about the slow, gentle touches so while the Crow did give them attention, he kept his touches light, always just barely there, barely enough.

“Now who’s a tease?” Rook asked, shakey huffs of laughter starting to come out as the touches that were just never enough, drove him slightly insane. There was a smirk on Lucanis’ face. He gave a gentle shush to the other man as he allowed his fingers to glide across his torso, no longer trying to lift the shirt off but letting it fall back into place, just now with his hands under it. With a rather dramatic huff, the elf went to grab the shirt himself but the hands on his torso quickly darted back out to catch his, purple eyes looking down at him. “No touch,” Spite growled rather ruthlessly but there was no fear in Rook, instead just an inpatient whine. “Then get on with it,” He said back, raising an eyebrow as he looked up, watching as one eye faded from the purple to see those blown open brown eyes, now just a thing ring around his dark pupil.

The Grey Warden swallowed hard.

“Let us worship you, Amor, you deserve nothing less,” The words were so honestly spoken, his eyes were like that of a begging puppy as the assassin looked down at his lover. The elf squirmed under his gaze, wondering if this was how the taller man’s targets felt right before he would strike, that heady anticipation of something coming just around the corner. But unlike those people, he would get to keep his life, though probably not with his dignity intact. “Wouldn’t you rather worship all of me?” He tried to tease, he hoped his words didn’t sound as needy as they had felt in his mouth. Was he begging, he wondered? Rook honestly wasn’t sure, far too concerned with getting the rest of their damn clothes off than worrying if his desperation for his lover was obvious to said lover. The answering groan he got wasn’t what he was expecting but the Grey Warden had no complaints as his shirt was finally slipped from his body. When the elf leaned in for another kiss, he was temporarily ignored as the assassin folded his shirt ever so neatly and set it on top of Rook’s coat, making sure they were stacked neat and straight. With a quiet groan, the Warden took hold of the other man’s pants, tugging on one of the belt loops to get his lover’s attention. As the man turned to look at him, Rook rocked forward onto the balls of their feet again, accidentally knocking their noses together causing both men to giggle as the taller man rubbed his jokingly. They were still giving each other those big grins when lips finally met again, laughs turning at moans as Lucanis’ hands returned to exploring Rook’s body, and the elf decided to do the same to his lover. With every teasing dig of the assassin’s fingernail into the Grey Warden’s scars, the other would respond in kind by tugging on the other man’s body hair, not too hard but just enough to get similar noises to his own to leave his lover’s mouth. A few one-word exchanges went between the two as they did so.

“Tease,” Lucanis mumbled.

“Flirt,” Rook whispered.

“Temptress,”

“Enticer,”

“Gorgeous,”

“Handsome,”

“Amor,”

“Schatz,”

With each word, muttered against each other’s lips, their hands wandered lower and lower till both held the waistline of each other’s pants, one gentle tug away for each into being naked. Lucanis was the one to pull back, taking in a quick deep breath before pressing his forehead to his lover’s, Rook sighed dreamily at the view of the other man. A few moments passed as each man tried to gather their breaths. “Do you wish to continue?” The assassin asked in a whisper, eyes trained onto the Grey Warden’s, probably looking for any form of hesitation in the man. At first, the elf just nodded but when the grip on his pants didn’t change he realized he was going to have to voice his desire to continue so he cleared his throat, trying not to focus on the lingering taste of coffee that had been filling his senses since reuniting with his lover. “Please, let’s please keep going,” It was begging, through and through but Rook found he couldn’t care. Especially not when the other man finally pulled his pants off and let them fall to the floor, a shiver running through the elf as the wetness between his thighs was exposed to the air, colder than the heat of his body and the heated head of his hardened clit. He squirmed around as he adjusted to the air, reaching for his lover’s pants so they could both be in the same state on undress but of course, he was stopped by the other man.

Rook defiantly didn’t let out a swear, and he didn’t let out a whine as he was denied. Lucanis leaned down to kiss him before he continued to go down, gently pushing the elf back so he would step out of his pants and so the Crow could pick them up. The Warden didn’t think much of it until a snarky, raspy huff came from him as the man straightened back up. He looked down to see what Spite was planning but his body involuntarily jerked up when a puff of air was blown rather cruelly against his sensitive clit, the little stimulation still enough for a full body twitch. “Bastard!” He whispered in a high voice as his head was thrown back, eyes squeezing tight as he tried to ignore the oversensitivity of his body. It had been too long since he last had been with his lover if his body’s reaction was anything to go off of. The answering raspy chuckle was a tease in itself, Rook swore as his nerves seemingly sparked at the sound, trying to shake his head as if he could shake the sensation from his skin. Hands cupped his hips and purple eyes met his as the demon leaned in, the kiss the two of them shared much more aggressive than anything with Lucanis. For a moment, the hands now on his ass, tightened, just barely pulling the elf’s cheeks apart much to his surprise before they very quickly stopped and pulled away returning to his hips.

The taller man pulled away from the kiss with an annoyed sigh, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Spite and you need to learn some patience,” He joked. Rook smiled up at him, sliding his hands back down to the other man’s pants. “Or someone needs to hurry up a little,” He joked back, the elf hooking his fingers into the assassin’s waistband and mustering up the biggest, pleading eyes in a bid to finally shed his lover of the last of his clothes. Lucanis smiled down fondly before he nodded, laughing at the Grey Warden’s excited whine as he finally got to push the man’s pants down. Rook let himself moan out freely as he watched the man’s cock jut out, head swollen red with neglect and precum slick at the tip of it. It was gratifying to see the elf wasn’t the only one so affected by their rather extended foreplay.

The shorter man took a step so the Crow could kick his pants away before quite nearly rushing him, pulling him down into a kiss, and crowding him to the bed. His lover hummed, the vibration of it rattling in Rook’s mouth making him moan as he pushed the assassin to the bed. He took a brief moment to admire the scene before him, Lucanis’ big brown eyes swimming in lust and black, his cock standing proud in between his legs where they were spread, ready to receive Rook however he wanted. Different possibilities began to go through his head, it almost became overwhelming the number of ideas he came up with as this innate desire to make up for lost time caused him to overthink. The assassin must have noticed something was off because the Warden found himself being pulled into the other man’s arms, his chin resting on the elf’s upper stomach as he looked up with those eyes. “Slow, let us take it slow Amor,” He whispered. There was an assurance under those words, an unspoken ‘We’ll have more time,’. It was a promise Rook knew Lucanis would keep.

So the elf nodded, taking a moment to calm his racing thoughts and heartbeat before gently pulling away from his lover only to kneel in front of him and his proud standing cock. A hand found its way into the Grey Warden’s deep red hair, not pulling or tugging, just sitting there like reassurance. Rook shuffled forward till he could comfortably reach out for Lucanis’ dick, legs somewhat already aching from the long days he had been doing but the elf ignored them, this was more than worth the burning thighs. The elf hesitated for a short few seconds, as he always did when it came to this, fear of inexperience always managing to creep up on him during these moments. The hand sat in his hair tightening, just a little, making Rook look up at his lover and what he saw made any worry melt instantly. When he looked up, the shorter man saw the other man’s spirit wings were out and unfurled, one eye purple then the other darkened brown, and this look of pure admiration from both the man and demon. They looked down at Rook as if he was the most beautiful single object in the entire world. As if nothing else in this world mattered except for the here and now, with Rook kneeling at their feet ready to please.

With renewed confidence, the Grey Warden reached out, wrapping a hand around the base of the man’s cock as he leaned in, giving a single swipe of his tongue to the slickened pre-cum head. A happy purr rumbled out the Crow as he threw his head back in ecstasy, this time Rook wasn’t sure if it was Lucanis, Spite, or both but was happy to have caused such a reaction. He continued his gentle lavishes on the man’s dick, hand never straying from the base as he went up and down the shaft leaving one kiss after the other in a very similar fashion to what his lover had down to the elf’s body as he was undressed. It felt good, to be able to give the same attention to the man he adored, especially with the moans tumbling from the assassin’s mouth, all those going straight through the elf. He knew he leaking on the floor himself and tried to squeeze things together to get some relief. It didn’t do much but make a moan fall from his lips. The vibrations against Lucanis’ dick made the taller man throw his head back again with a much louder groan this time, the hand in Rook’s hair tightened for a second before the Crow realized and he loosened it again but didn’t pull away. He knew the Warden needed the comfort of his touch even as pleasure began to overwhelm the assassin. Very carefully, Rook leaned in and began to take the man’s cock into his mouth, the pace slow and controlled as he sunk to about halfway on his lover’s cock before pausing to get his bearings. His eyes fluttered as he tried to get a look at the other man’s face and nearly choked when their eyes met. How Lucanis still managed to have those damnable puppy eyes while being pleasured was a mystery to the Grey Warden.

Rook took in a few breaths through his nose, getting ahold of his nerves again as he started to move further down his lover. He managed to take in another inch before deciding tonight was not a night for attempting to deepthroat, so he brought his other hand up to wrap around the remaining length. The assassin hummed, an appreciative noise that the elf could swear he felt in his bones. Neither man was partially good at dirty talk, still too relatively new to sex to add it so instead they would encourage each other with noises, and gestures while also making sure to check in with one another. “Alright?” Lucanis asked in a breathless tone, heavy breathing coming once he managed to squeak the word out. Rook nodded, or as much as he could, before fluttering his eyelids as check-in back to the other man, and the answered chuckle he got was playful, teasing. “I am wonderful Amor,” The Crow assured, hand coming down to wipe away some drool that had started to leak out the side of the Grey Warden’s mouth.

After a few minutes of letting Rook adjust, which was a great show of the assassin’s self-control as his hips never moved, not even a little, the elf began to move. A slow pull back off the man’s cock before just the tip of the head remained in his mouth before going back down in a smooth movement of back and forth, with his hands getting what his mouth couldn’t reach. Lucanis, ever the gentleman, used his self-restraint as a master assassin to never let his hips jump or jerk while his lover pleasured him. It was wildly impressive, especially as the growing blush on his cheeks started to travel to his ears and his chest which was just a show of how much the man was enjoying it. There was one particular moment where Rook thought he had got the man to lose some of the restraint, as the moan he got on the way down at one point was shakey, very loud as it echoed through the room. A smirk found its way to the elf’s face as he remembered the open window. People probably heard that, and while they didn’t know it was the First Talon of the Crows, the shorter man sure did.

Talk about a power trip.

Lucanis didn’t falter though and his hips remained firmly planted on the bed, never forcing his cock deeper than what Rook was taking in. Ever the gentleman. The Grey Warden did one last move down, taking as much as he comfortably could, to hear the other man cry out again before he pulled away, giving a lick to the red tip as he did so. Something was whispered under the Crow’s breath and the elf was fairly certain it was something along the lines of “Tease,” but he let it be, the ache between his legs starting to take more precedence than his smart mouth. He leaned back for a moment, spreading his legs just enough so his clit was no longer being rubbed by them to give himself a moment of respite. Rook felt the man’s eyes on him and he knew, with a prideful smugness, his lover was looking down at his wet cunt. The Grey Warden smiled under the attention, spreading his legs just a little further to allow his lover a better look who whimpered once he did, eyes shining with a glint that the shorter man knew all too well. He shook his head, which earned a displeased, confused sound from the Crow, who tilted his head in curiosity at the man’s silent refusal. “Not tonight,” Rook reasoned that as much as he would love for his lover to eat him out, something Lucanis did very well, this had gone on long enough, and while he was ok with slow, he needed the other man in him now.

“I want to ride you,”

It was said in a low tone, a pleading tone that was whiney in a way, desperate. The responding moan he got in return had him squirming as his clit twitched at the sound. The hand on his head moved to be in front of the Warden, out reached to help him to his feet which Rook graciously accepted. Once he was standing, hands made their way to his lower thighs. “Allow me to prep you, Amor?” It was a kind ask, and probably to Lucanis a simple gesture to continue their foreplay but the elf shook his head, placing his hands on either side of the Crow’s face and tilting his head so they could kiss, slow. When he pulled away, he pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t need it,” He reasoned, shifting as he felt just how wet he was. Lucanis frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you,” The man reasoned back, brow furrowed down in worry. Rook gave a breathy laugh as he moved to kiss the worried wrinkles on his lover’s forehead away. “You won’t, I’m uh…” He cleared his throat with embarrassment, his cheeks heating up as he tried to say the words. “I’m wet enough,” The Grey Warden eventually squeaked out, having to fight against his eye’s desire to squeeze shut to hide away from his lover’s caring eyes. But he knew if he did that, it would just worry his lover more so, the elf fought himself to keep eye contact. Though, it had worked as Lucanis’ eyes fluttered for a moment at his words and a shakey sigh came from the man. Pride rushed through Rook.

When his lover looked at him, he just nodded before clearing his throat to speak again. “How do you want me?” The Crow asked. Rook pulled away from him for a second, pushing aside from fallen hair from his face. “Like this,” He answered, climbing into the lap of his lover. The happy noise that came from his chest was Spite and the demon took over for a moment so his hands could wander down to the elf’s ass again, giving it a squeeze which made the Warden laugh. Lucanis joined after a moment, the two coming together to kiss even as their chuckles and giggles entwined as their lips touched. As they kissed, Rook reached down, wrapping his hand around the base of the other man’s cock again before guiding it to his cunt. The hands on his ass tightened as he teased the head against his pussy, his own wet slick mixing with the other man’s pre-cum, adding to the mess already between the elf’s legs. Not that he minded.

With a slow intake of air, Rook finally guided the head in and started his slow descent down the man’s cock. While the amount of slick from both of them helped, the no prep slowed the Warden into needing to take every inch as slow as he could. It was a consistent pace, never really stopping but it was paced so as not to overwhelm the shorter man. To Lucanis’ credit, he didn’t move again, just letting his lover take his time in sinking down on his cock. He rubbed circled into the elf’s hip bones, laying kisses on the shoulder he could reach and while no words were exchanged, with each kiss Rook could feel the praise he was thinking. ‘So good, you’re always so good for me,’ They said as he kissed up and down the Grey Warden’s exposed skin. Unable to say his own words, the shorter man just sighed, continuing his way down as his way of saying ‘And you are good for me,’. About halfway down the man’s dick, Rook had to pause, his legs giving a full shake at the tension of holding his body up the way he was. A curious sound came from Lucanis, another check-in Rook realized. He made sure to nod, as reassuring as he could and he smiled down at the other man, giving his squeeze to the man’s shoulder as his check-in. The Crow returned the smile and nodded as well, tilting his head up as he silently asked for a kiss which the Warden graciously returned.

Slowly, but surely, Rook continued his descent down as the two continued to kiss, the burn of the stretch a bit uncomfortable but it was starting to fall away as his walls began to flutter around the man’s cock. Both men let out equally loud groans when the elf finally got to the base of his cock, the stretch once again hitting uncomfortably as the Grey Warden squirmed at the pressure. Lucanis' breath hitched as he did so and Rook placed a kiss on the shoulder he was leaning over as an apology. “Are… A-are you alright, A-Amor?” Even through what must be overwhelming heat and tightness, the taller man’s main concern was for his Warden which in turn made the shorter man’s heart melt. “I’m o-ok, just need to g-get used to it, a-are you…?” Rook couldn’t continue as he let out another moan, his body’s nerves alit with what just felt like ‘Lucanis, Lucanis, Lucanis,’ His lover gave a hum, turning his head so the two men’s lips could meet in a kiss, a quick exchange of tongues where the coffee taste on the Grey Warden’s tongue, that had been melting away, was returned in full force. A perfect bitter dark blend, one that just encapsulated the master assassin just so. When they pulled away, there was a wide smile on the Crow’s face. “With you in my arms again, I want for nothing in this moment,” He answered with full clarity as if he could now so easily handle the cunt wrapped around his aching cock, if only to make Rook’s head rush with a heady mix of love and the need to be fucked by his lover, right now.

But, slow and steady was the name of this game today so instead he just sighed as he leaned into the side of the First Talon, peppering kisses and bites down his jawline to the muscles in his neck. The hands on his hips continued the comforting circles and Lucanis made sure to give the elf as much access to his body as he wanted, moving in whatever way made things easier for Rook. Always the thoughtful one. So the Grey Warden decided he deserved to be rewarded for his kindness and slowly began to squeeze around the man’s cock, basking in the sound of surprise that came from his lover. The groans that came from the Crow were heavenly, who needed the Maker when Rook had this angelic moment right here? The look of the man too, his head was thrown back, his eyes closed and mouth open slightly as he let his noises loose from deep within his chest. Who needed the Golden City when the elf had this man in a way no one had ever seen and no one would ever see? Eternal afterlife had nothing on the throws of passion with the man Rook loved with his whole body, mind, and soul.

“Y-you alright Amor?” Lucanis’ voice came through the Grey Warden’s thoughts and with a few blinks he realized he had paused halfway back down the man’s cock. Big brown eyes looked at him with concern and the shorter man could see that the other was about to lift the elf off but he slid down the rest of the way, both men giving loud moans in response to the sudden pick-up in pace. But the thought was being empty after all that was much more devastating than Rook cared to deal with. The assassin looked taken aback, but pleasantly so as his lips opened to let another sound out, that’s when the Warden saw the shiny spit starting to fall from his mouth. He leaned in to lick it away, letting their tongues tangle for a brief moment before pulling away. “I’m amazing, how can I not be when I’m here with you,” They weren’t as sauve as the Crow’s words, pleasure always did seem to dull the elf’s tongue but his lover didn’t care as he brought his hands up to pull the shorter man down into a passionate kiss.

Rook’s arms slid past the taller man’s neck as he leaned further into the kiss, the vibrations of their moans making his head rush with heat. Had the air in the room always been this warm or was it just the two of them? The elf could see his lover was shiny with sweat, his hair slicked down with it and the tips of his ears were a bright red along with his cheeks. Rook knew he couldn’t have looked any better. If he looked even half as overwhelmed as he felt, well, he was glad there was no mirror for him to see his state of being right now.

When he pulled away from his lover, the Grey Warden placed one last kiss on the tip of his nose before finally starting to move on his cock again. Hands returned to his hips, this time helping the shorter man gain a soft, slow pace, a languid move of up till just the tip was left then a slow descent down till he was full to the brim again. This went on for a little while, the up and down, exchanges of loving kisses and nips as they returned back to the slow pace of their lovemaking. Then, on one of the ups, Rook purposely squeezed as he got to the tip of the man’s dick and the resounding moan he got told him all he needed to know but the twitch of Lucanis’ cock was helpful in itself. The man was close and that meant, he was also very close to his composure breaking.

Rook felt a bit cruel when he pulled completely off his lover and the whine from the assassin was so pitiful, so sad but as he climbed off the man and saw those eyes look up at him he knew it was a good choice as very small tears forming at the very corners of his eyes, so it was only a matter of time. “Back on the bed Schatz,” The elf said in a quiet tone. There was a nod before the other began to push himself back till his head hit the pillows waiting for him and the Grey Warden followed suit, climbing onto the man as he hovered over his cock for a second, simply looking down at his beautiful lover’s overwhelmed state. Purple eyes appeared. “On,” Was all Spite said, brow furrowed as he looked between his aching cock and where Rook hovered over him. The shorter man snorted, perhaps Lucanis had been right about Spite needing to learn patience but that was a thought for another day. Instead, the elf leaned down and sealed their lips together before once again sinking on the man’s dick, a very pleased growl rumbling in between their intertwined lips once again. Rook would never tire of the feeling, especially how it always seemed to send sparks through his clit, which was throbbing rather angrily from its lack of attention but he ignored it, he had a mission after all.

When the shorter man pulled back, those brown eyes were back and they were bigger than ever, slightly more tears gathered. It seemed the Grey Warden would have to work harder to push his lover over, not that it was an issue, Rook rather prided himself as an expert on the man’s body and knew just how to get what he wanted. So, with their eyes looking deep within each other’s the elf started to move again, this time picking up the pace ever so slightly, letting it go to a smooth transition of up and down instead of pausing at any point. More strangled breaths came from the Crow and he had attempted to bite down on his lip, probably to hide his whines but Rook used his thumb to swipe against the man’s bottom lip. “I want to hear your noises,” He whispered, making sure to lean in close so Lucanis could feel the words against his skin, to feel the impact of his Warden’s plea. Immediately the man’s mouth opened, moans and groans filling the room once again much to the elf’s delight. The shorter continued his pace, adding the occasional squeeze to hear his lover’s breath hitch in his throat, to watch his eyelids flutter and see more tears gather. Then, Lucanis spoke.

“Amor, I-” Oh yes. Rook knew that tone, the breathy sigh that cut himself off, and the look in the assassin’s eyes. “Don’t hold yourself back Schatz,” The elf implored. “Let me see you, all of you,” As he spoke, the Grey Warden sunk down and squeezed tight, and that was all Lucanis needed.

Instantaneously, the tears that had been gathering in the man’s eyes flooded down and hiccuping breaths filled the room as Lucanis just sobbed with emotion. Cries interminably interrupted by gasps as Rook began to ride faster, still at a medium pace to not overwhelm his lover too much but enough to keep the tears of the man flowing. The first time the two slept together, this hadn’t happened. It was still wonderful of course, a memory the elf cherished close to his heart but when they had saved the world and finally got a moment alone, this had happened. It was much faster the first time they’d experienced it, one moment the Crow had been fine and then the next he was sobbing as he had come down the Warden’s throat. Lucanis hadn’t even a moment to register what had happened by the time the elf got to him, in a panic to make sure he was ok but the taller man assured him he was fine. Both had chalked it up to being an outburst of all the pent-up emotion, especially after defeating the gods. So when it happened again when the assassin had slipped inside the Grey Warden’s cunt, they concluded that maybe it was just something Lucanis does.

And boy were they right, every time since, a little before the man would orgasm, the Crow would break down into a mess of sobs and babbles of his love for Rook. It was incredible to watch the man he loved so much, the stoic semi-stiff with emotions First Talon dissolved into a mess of tears and barely lung-filling gasps. It was also hot, of course, knowing that just his mere being alive was what would get his lover to that state, it was a bit of a power trip. Now was no different, Rook watched with slightly masochistic glee as Lucanis’ tears streamed down his face, big eyes staring up at him with some much love and devotion. How lucky of a man the Grey Warden was, to have this, to be like this with such an amazing man. He voiced as much. The gasp he got in response made his evil grin deepen, now came the next best part.

“Lady luck has nothing but grace for me if I can have you, like this to myself,” His words were shakey, interrupted by the occasional gasp of air as Rook continued to ride his dick but the Crow was determined to say his piece. “For I know nothing can compare to you Amor, I used to think a demon like me deserved nothing but now that I have you, I know that is not true. I must be one good man for someone like you to have looked at me and chosen me,” The elf nodded in agreement, keeping his noises quieter so he could hear the declarations of his lover who so graciously spoke his words. “There is no one like you, I am indeed a lucky man to have you in my arms, on my cock, in my life, making every day I have with you full of color, of light,” Rook would have laughed were he not in the middle of moaning, feeling as his lover’s hips finally jerked up, the self-restraint finally washing away to give away to something harder. “No one else will ever have you like this, what a lucky man am I to be gifted with such a prize,” Another jerk of Lucanis’ hips came as the Grey Warden let out a swear as it hit the spot where stars flickering in his vision, making his clit give a hot, red anger throb which caused him to choke on a gasp. Even in this state, the Crow was ever vigilante of his lover’s pleasure and so, through the tears he managed to get his hand to reach down and press to Rook’s clit. The slick between the two of them was everywhere as the assassin's fingers were slippery when he touched the man which made him cry out, back arching and hips jerking for more. He heard a dreamy sigh come from the man under him. “I will never tire of this, of you, of us. I will spend my life showing you how much I love you, how much I adore you and I will make sure the world hears of our love,” Hiccuping breaths made the words somewhat hard to hear along with the blood rushing from the elf’s head down to where the other man was rather ruthlessly touching. Rook tried to say something in return but all that escaped him was a gambled mess and with one more expert slide of the fingers on him, the elf calmped down on Lucanis’ cock as he came. He hadn’t even realized he was so close.

Either from watching his lover cum or the sudden squeeze around his cock, the assassin followed his Warden over the edge letting out a significantly louder cry than his other noises had been as his back bowed. The two stayed in their taunt positions for a long couple of moments, breaths coming rapidly from both men, and muscles tensed and tightened. The elf felt the warm slosh of cum trickle out of his cunt when the other man shifted his hips slightly, causing both of them to moan at the overstimulating sensation. Lucanis was still hard, he usually was after only a round but he always gave Rook time to come down, to avoid the nerve zaps the shorter man usually got after cumming. Finally, the elf took in a deep breath before he collapse down onto his lover, the man’s dick still buried and more cum trickling out with how he had moved but he buried his face into the crook of his lover’s neck, taking in the smell of his sweat and now distant cologne. And of course, that underlying smell of coffee.

As the Grey Warden began to come down from his high, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the words his lover had spilled as they reached their peaks. “I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you,” felt like a quote in one of the romance books Rook secretly read, the kind of words before an important, 4-word question was asked. He couldn’t help the giggle at the thought of it. How funny. There’s no way that’s what Lucanis had meant but…

“What is it, Amor?” The very man asked, a smile in his voice as a hand came up to thread his fingers through the elf’s hair. Rook leaned into the touch, humming dreamily at his lover’s soft touch, his eyes fluttered close as he buried his face deeper into the taller man’s neck but still he answered. “Just thinking about what you said,” He said, words somewhat muffled against the skin of his lover. “Ah, I hope nothing… offended,” The Crow sounded embarrassed, he always said he never had control over his babbling while in that state, just saying whatever words he was feeling deep in his heart. How he didn’t know what that did to Rook was beyond the elf, to drive your lover to the point where they would just babble about how much they loved you while crying? The best feeling, if the Grey Warden was to be asked about it. “Never,” He reassured his lover, placing a kiss on the skin he was pressed against. “Flattered if anything, it sounded like a proposal honestly,”

Almost immediately, both men tensed at Rook’s words as they were taken aback by what he said. Even the elf himself hadn’t been expecting to say those words. Anxiety immediately riddled the shorter man, how could he have said that stuff so… so casually?! That was supposed to remain a thought in his head, he wasn’t the one who babbled whatever was on his mind. The Grey Warden felt awkward as his lover was still stiff next to him, the hand in his hair nearly a tight grip. He wanted to pull away, to laugh and call it all a joke but if anything that felt worse, to dismiss it as nothing but sex talk would be a disservice and insult to his lover. Instead, he took in a shaky breath and spoke up. “Lucanis?” He asked, still too afraid to move from where he was buried safely. There were a few moments before the man responded, each passing second causing more and more tension to build in the shorter man.

“Do you mean it?”

That… hadn’t been what Rook had been expecting.

He finally decided to lift himself, to look down at his lover and was meant with those damn big brown eyes but the elf could swear there was a… sparkle in them.

“Lucanis…” Rook found himself breathless, speechless at the intensity of their eyes there. The other man sat up, wrapping his hands around the Warden’s waist, and very slowly began to move his hips up his cock, then down when he got halfway. A strangled gasp forced its way from the shorter man. “If it was a proposal,” Already, tears were starting to form in the corners of the assassin’s eyes. “What would you say?” The question was borderline desperate and the Grey Warden found his thoughts messy as at the same time, Lucanis began to thrust up into his cunt and a hand wandered down to the man’s clit, rubbing soft circles to the tip causing sparks to go through the him. It took him a few tries to speak again.

“Do you want it to be?”

Immediately, the First Talon gave a desperate nod, eyes big as he watched his lover as if he would disappear at any moment. Rook opened his mouth to respond but right at that moment, the other man pressed down onto his still-sensitive clit making him arch his body with a ‘Ah!’. The motion made the man’s cock hit right at the perfect spot and Lucanis definitely caught on and he began to abuse that spot with talented calloused fingers. How was the elf supposed to answer his question when the Crow was so insistent on giving mind-blowing pleasure?

Luckily, Rook was a stubborn man, one who never backed down from a challenge. So he ground back down on the man’s cock, basking in the strangled moan his lover gave. More tears gathered in his eyes, and the way the drool fell from his mouth, he was close to breaking again. The Grey Warden leaned down, pressing their foreheads together as he started to move his hips to the rhythm the Crow had set. “Ask me again, ask me properly,” He hadn’t wanted to sound so desperate, so close to begging but honestly, Lucanis was the one person he was fine seeing in this state, to be seen as this vulnerable. Not that the other man was any better, tears had now started flowing down his cheeks again and it was obvious he was trying hard to stop himself from just babbling again, brow furrowed in thought as he continued to move the elf on his cock and probably trying to collect the words he wanted.

“Caspian Rook Thorne,” The Warden was surprised to hear his name, causing his walls to flutter around the man’s dick which made him groan but still, he kept moving. “Leader of the Veilgaurd, savior of the world, friend to Wardens, Watchers, Veil Jumpers, Lords, Shadows, and Crows,” Their moves slowed to an agonizingly slow pace but it was because Lucanis wanted their eyes to steady as they stared at each Rook realized. Both stared up blinking at each other. A smile formed on the First Talon’s face, one full of love and admiration. It was so soft, so full of emotion that it made the elf dizzy.

“Will you marry me?”

It was Rook’s turn for tears to fall, he hadn’t even realized he had been so close to crying until he already was. What did he care though? His lover just proposed to him, of course, he was going to cry. “Yes,” He whispered, “Of course, I’ll marry you Lucanis,”

A whirlwind of things happened next, the Crow finally let himself break out into a series of babbles. This time, it was thank you’s over and over and over again as he picked up the pace of his hips and fingers. The Grey Warden let out a cry as pleasure began to build in his stomach once more, being pulled taunt behind his belly button, an intense build of up, up, up. His lover, his fiance, only encouraged him with words and pressure against his clit. “Come for me Amor, please Caspian, let me feel you come on my cock and know that you will be mine forever,” Rook nodded, trying his best to voice how yes, the elf will be Lucanis’ for the rest of entirety but pleasure made his tongue dead weight in his mouth so he could only let out unintelligible cries. The taller man’s cock felt amazing, the picked-up pace going in and out, the smooth glide against the walls of his fluttering cunt, and the force behind every thrust made him feel earth-shattering pleasure. Before he could warn his lover, Rook’s body tensed and he came with a very loud cry, his entire body going taunt as this orgasm just took everything. He was vaguely aware of the rush of wetness forming in between his legs but he had no time for the usual embarrassment that happened when his body gushed like that, the elf just got engaged.

Engaged not only to the First Talon of the Crow’s, not only to one of the members of the Veilguard who saved the world but to Lucanis Dellamorte.

The elf felt another gush of warmth in his body, realizing it was the other man cumming in his cunt with a cry of his own, tears going down his face that Rook leaned down to kiss away. Beyond a few twitches of their hips, the two had stopped moving and just sat, Lucanis soften cock keeping his cum deep in the elf, though he would have to pull out at some point, Rook hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon. The two sat in silence for a while, tears continued to slowly go down the Crow’s face so the Grey Warden would kiss and wipe them away, softly, lovingly. There was a blissful smile on the taller man’s face, almost like he was high. It was adorable.

Eventually, the Warden decided it was time to get up as his thighs were beginning to go from a reasonable burn to an ache that would make it hard for him to walk for a few days if he wasn’t careful. As gently as he could, he let the other man’s softened cock slip from his cunt, both groaning from the loss. The hands still on his hips helped guide Rook down onto the bed, laying him on his back. Lucanis leaned over above him, giving a love-filled kiss before slipping away to the attached bath presumably to get some towels to wet and wipe the two down. The Crow was ever the gentleman to his partner in their aftercare. All the Grey Warden could do was lay back on the bed, simply basking in the aftermath as well as the knowledge that he was engaged. A day full of wonderful surprises it seemed.

When the assassin returned, there was a damp towel in his hand as well as a small drawstring bag that he put on the nightstand. Rook gave a curious sound as he looked over at it but Lucanis simply kissed him whispering “Later,” against his lips which the elf nodded at. The First Talon began to wipe his lover down, following each swipe with the towel with light kisses. His Warden watched him through half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his and the other man’s love-bitten body the sweat that still shined on the Crow’s body, and how his hair was mused from when he was laying on the bed. Rook let out a soft giggle which caught the other man’s attention. He gave a questioning hum as he smiled up at his lover. The Grey Warden returned it. “My fiance is a beautiful man,” He answered the unasked question and smiled wide when the assassin gave a choked sound before his grin became wide on his face. “You’ve already fallen into using that so easily, I’m flattered,” Lucanis said, tossing aside the towel when he was satisfied he got most of the fluids that were left on his lover’s body. Rook was certain he left the cum in his cunt on purpose.

The elf gave a devious smile as he leaned up, putting his hands around the Crow’s shoulders to pull him close. “Just wait till I get to say husband,” Rook teased, which got him a “Mierda,” and a nip to the lower lip before they began to kiss, slow and loving. The Warden went to pull the other down with him so they could lay together but the taller man stopped him for a moment, reaching over to the nightstand with the drawstring bag. The shorter man watched with curiosity as Lucanis undid its string. “I’m not sure if you remember, but when we met with Tiea and Viago after they discovered that Caterina was alive, it was because of-”

“Your mother’s opal ring?” Rook interrupted, staring down at where the other man had pulled the ring from the bag somewhat surprised that the Crow had it. “Will you take it?” Lucanis asked quietly, holding it in his hand with worry that this was maybe Rook rejecting the offering. The elf stuttered for a second before managing to form his words. “Oh Lucanis, I can’t… That was your mother’s! And isn’t it Caterina’s?” He asked though he reached out to caress a finger down the beautiful old ring. The jewelry was worn but in a ‘seen a lot of life’ way, it was still absolutely stunning, the opal itself not faded whatsoever, seemed to still shine so beautifully bright. It truly was a gorgeous ring. “She gave it to me when I returned home to take over the First Talon duties, I didn’t understand why at first but…” Rook watched his lover's face morph from confused to a look of realization and the elf reached out to squeeze the man’s arm. “What’s wrong?” He asked, unsure of what conclusion was just made but ready to support whatever the Crow needed. He was surprised to see when Lucanis looked up at him there was a pink tint to his ears. “I think she gave this to me to propose with, and I… didn’t realize,” Lucanis said, an embarrassed tone to his voice that try as he might not, the shorter man had to giggle at as he reached his left hand out. “Well, in that case, I would be honored to accept it,” Rook said, getting a wide grin from his lover as he carefully and thoughtfully slid it onto the Warden’s finger. It fit surprisingly well, almost perfectly actually. The elf kept to himself that he was certain Caterina somehow got his ring size with whatever methods the former First Talon probably had hidden in her arsenal.

“Now I understand why Illario was giving me all those strange looks,” Lucanis sighed, leaning forward to kiss his lover before wrapping his arms around the shorter man and spinning them so that they were lying down, Rook on his chest. The Grey Warden chuckled as he looked down at his ringer finger admiring the beautiful jewelry now adorning. “Antonie and Evka are gonna be happy for us,” He mused. Lucanis gave a low chuckle.

“Just wait till the rest of our friends hear,”

“Bellara and Neve are gonna have a field day with the news,”

“Davrin and Taash are probably going to try and give us “Fiance sex advice”,”

“Emmrich will probably offer us grave plots next to each other in the Necroplis,”

Rook moved from looking at the ring to looking up at his lover. He wasn’t surprised to see purple eyes looking down at him, full of fondness. “Rook will be ours forever,” Spite’s words were smooth, for once, and the look in his eyes was so full of love it was easy to forget he was a demon. Not that it mattered to Rook. “Yes, Spite,” He leaned up, sealing their lips together with a kiss. “I’ll always be here with you,” When he reopened his eyes, it was the big brown ones staring at him, with the biggest grin on Lucanis’ face. “And me?” He asked playfully, a tease but still waiting for an answer. Rook chuckled, leaning up to place a kiss on the tip of his lover’s nose. “You can’t get rid of me, even if you tried,” He joked. “I would never,” Lucanis responded, brushing a bit of bang from the elf’s face. His hand wandered down, index finger tracing won’t the opal of the ring on his finger.

“I love you Caspian, I don’t think I can be away from you for such a long time again.”

“I love you too Lucanis. Wherever you go, I’ll be right beside you,”

After two and a half days, two nose bleeds and a snowed say, I have finally finished this fanfic lmao

I didn't have a beta reader so if some stuff is wrong (especially spelling of names and just words in general) I apologize and will work to fix it asap.

I'll also put the Ao3 link again here if you want to read it on there! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day! -<3 Skunch

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tyrantisterror · 3 days ago

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Wife Goals: The Princess, aka The Shifting Mound, aka Shifty

Alright, fuckers, we're finally at the end. After covering Karlach Cliffgate last time, there's one last fictional woman I'm going to profess my parasocial love for in this cringe display of emotional honesty. And our last lady here is, I think, the perfect one to end on.

Slay the Princess is, in my personal opinion as an eternally lonely deranged freak on the internet, the best love story ever told. And I love a lot of love stories! I know I don't talk about it very much, on account of me being a lonely deranged freak who's deeply ashamed of their own loneliness and all, but I do, I really do! I love Pride and Prejudice (the book and the Colin Firth miniseries specifically, not too fond of the Kiera Knightley version), I love Much Ado About Nothing, I love The Princess Bride and When Harry Met Sally and so so SO many Chivalric ballads and, like, I just love love stories man!

But they're all shit - ALL OF THEM, EVERY ONE, it's shit! - compared to Slay the Princess.

To talk about the titular Princess, I'm going to have to spoil, like... a LOT of this game, and while I usually don't give much of a shit about spoilers, I will admit that figuring out exactly what sort of weird supernatural nonsense is going on in this game's story is extremely fun, and since I imagine many of you haven't played it yet but REALLY SHOULD, I don't want to rob you of the opportunity to find it out for yourself. So I'm going to give a more or less spoiler-free pitch to begin with (in that what I'm going to describe is literally the setup of the whole game), and then give you copious warnings before I get into the guts of this whole ordeal, ok? Ok!

Our story begins with you, yes You, the player, walking on a path in the woods. At the end of the path is a cabin, and in the basement of the cabin is a Princess. You are told by a very much diegetic disembodied voice you call the Narrator that your job is to slay this princess. If you don't do this, the Narrator tells you, the Princess will end the world.

Ok, so, you probably have some questions. You're given a smorgasbord of ones to ask - who locked the Princess in the cabin, why and how will she end the world, why do YOU have to kill her, why can't we just leave her in the cabin, where are we anyway, how did we get here? To which the Narrator essentially says, "Don't worry about it, focus on the very simple and clear-cut task at hand, stop asking so many reasonable questions!" in the most condescending way possible.

Eventually a second voice manifests, called The Voice of the Hero by the game's interface, and asks you a question: "We're not going to go through with this, right? We're supposed to save princesses, not slay them." And, really, that's the first big question this game is forcing you to answer: are you going to hate and kill someone just because someone told you to, or are you going to try and give that woman in the basement the benefit of the doubt at the risk of ending the world?

This setup is more or less the story - there is You, the Narrator, and the Princess. Those are our three characters. You have a cabin in the woods. You have a task you're assigned to do: slay the princess. Everything that follows is about fleshing out these elements in as many different ways as possible, and you, the player, choose how you explore those elements. There are a lot of questions you'll want answers for, and a lot of questions the game will ask of you in turn. That's it, that's the pitch, and if you're like me, you should be quite intrigued.

Ok, so... to actually talk about the Princess I'm gonna have to, like, go through a whole playthrough with you guys. See, her characterization is so thoroughly tied with the story itself - the game is quite literally about exploring who and what she is, as well as who and what You are in relation to her, so it's hard to talk about her without also talking about the choices You, the player, make.

You get to the cabin. Inside there is a dagger, the Pristine Blade, which the Narrator tells you to pick up and use to kill the Princess. This is your first big choice - if you believe the narrator might be telling the truth, even just a little, you'll take the blade. But if you decide to truly give the Princess the benefit of the doubt, to believe she is a person who is entitled to be understood on her own terms, you'll leave that blade on the table to the Narrator's incredibly pissy protestations.

And, like, personally speaking, I never fucking touch that blade in my first run. When someone tells me to hate someone I don't know and refuses to give a reason beyond vague "Well she's Bad and Evil" bullshit, my gut instinct is that they are full of shit. This is a woman locked in a basement and a pushy asshole is telling me to hurt her, I know who the villain and victim is in that scenario and it's not the woman in the basement.

So You/I/The Player goes down into the basement without the Pristine Blade, and out comes a sweet, pitiful voice of a woman who has been trapped in a basement and is hoping for an escape. You go down and see she's just, like, a woman. A pretty woman, even - ok, maybe a kind of disconcertingly pretty woman, with eyes that are a bit too large and a button nose that's a bit too cute and a dress that's, like, the twee picture of what you'd expect a fairy tale princess to wear, but she's still, like, just a lady! She begs you to rescue her, but you've still got all these questions about the situation, and she's the ONLY character you've met so far who you haven't asked them to yet.

And while the Princess tries to answer as best she can, there are certain questions she struggles to come up with an answer to. Basic questions. You ask her what her name is, and she tries to dodge, "You can call me Your Royal Highness or just Princess if you like!" Continue to ask she'll admit she doesn't know her name, offering the explanation that she's been down here so long with no one to talk to that she must have just... forgotten it?

Which brings up more questions - how has she survived down here without anyone else? What does she eat? How long has she been down here, really? And she has no answers to them. You don't know if it's because she just doesn't know or if she's lying to you - and if she's lying to you, you don't know why, because yeah, it COULD be that she truly is a monster that will end the world, or it COULD be that she's a woman who's been trapped in a basement and approached by a stranger who, rather than free her immediately, decided to grill her with questions about her nature and purpose, and she's worried if she answers wrong you'll leave her or, worse, kill her. Because, really, can she trust you in this scenario any more than you can trust her? You're the one who was sent here on a mission of assassination, remember.

If you're me, you decide that the benefit of your doubt still lies with this woman. So you try to free her from the shackle holding her down here. It won't budge, so you go upstairs to look for a key - or at least, you try to, until the door slams and locks, leaving you trapped in the basement with her. The Princess, realizing you're now trapped, decides to do something desperate, and begins gnawing on her own wrist like a fox in a trap.

You hear a clatter on the stairs. The Pristine Blade has fallen downstairs, somehow. The narrator urges you to slay the princess with it. But if you're me, you STILL side with her, especially with how the narrator has gloated about how you've been trapped down here for Not Doing What You're Told. The Princess offers her wrist to you, and you help her, uh... cut her hand off... so she can be free.

It's a lot grislier than you hope, but you did it. You freed this woman. The Narrator is pissed, and demands that you kill her while her back is turned. Suddenly the only options in your user interface are "Slay the Princess" repeated over and over - well, almost, for nestled within the HUGE list of "Slay the Princess" prompts is one that says "Warn her." If you're me, you pick that one. The Princess sees you struggling against an unseen force that's making you try to kill her. The Narrator forces you to try again, with the same dirty trick - but once again there's a hidden option: Resist. The Princess realizes that you're struggling as best as you can, but you won't resist forever. As you hold the blade out in your hand, struggling not to stab her with it, she takes it, looks at you apologetically, and stabs the shit out of you instead.

Everything goes dark, and you die...

...then you're on a path in the woods again, and at the end of that path is a cabin, again, and in the basement of that cabin is a Princess, again, who the narrator tells you to slay, again.

BIG SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

You go back to the cabin and it's... different. The exterior looks the same, but the interior is nicer, more fairy-tale esque. And you've gained a new Voice as well - in addition to the Voice of the Hero, you've now got the Voice of the Smitten, who sounds and acts like a fairy tale Knight in Shining Armor who is oh-so, well, smitten with his darling, perfect, did-nothing wrong princess. You go down a cozy, pleasant set of Fairy-Tale style winding stairs into a dark but nicer basement than before, and waiting for you is... well, it's the Princess, but she's changed. Like, physically - she's cuter, her dress is fancier, her build is, uh, bustier, her voice is more high-pitched and giggly, and she regards you with utter affection, because you're her smitten knight in shining armor.

She is, as the chapter title that showed up right before you found yourself back on that path in the woods, The Damsel in distress.

She regards you as a savior, and in gratitude wants to repay you. You ask her about what happened after you died, and she responds blithely with what you already know: you died, then you came back. You ask her whether she destroyed the world, and she asks what you want her to have done. If you say you didn't want her to destroy the world, then she didn't destroy the world! : ) When you ask how you can free her without, you know, getting stabbed to death, the Voice of the Smitten argues that her dainty wrist will just slip out of that shackle easily, which it does. The Narrator tries to lock you down again, but the Smitten says you merely need to believe in the power of your love, and sure enough it opens, to the Princess's delight.

And it's all just too saccharine, isn't it? To easy, to inauthentic. It's even a bit distressing, actually, because the Princess you met before had a personality and will of her own, and the self-preservation instincts to question your intentions. This Princess, this Damsel, is acting completely dependent upon you - she's giving up her agency.

But maybe that's the solution? You consider if you could just stay in the cabin - that way the Princess won't "destroy the world," but you won't have to Slay the Princess. The Smitten agrees, but the Narrator doesn't - and neither does the Princess. If you try to explain why it works, she looks at you with fear for the first time and says the obvious - nice as you are, she doesn't know you, and asking her to stay with you forever and never see the world is fucked up, isn't it? Why can't she get to see the world?

The Voice of the Smitten freaks out at the idea that his love isn't enough to convince her to completely give up her agency, and that's really what this change has been for her, isn't it? She's given up her agency so You can become a Knight in Shining Armor rescuing a defenseless damsel. And as the new voice of your Chivalric Romance Fantasies flips the fuck out and tears your chest open to reveal your heart, you and the Princess both realize how twisted this seemingly pleasant fantasy is. Everything goes dark, and you die...

...and find yourself inside a castle. Not really a cabin, anymore, but a castle. No path in the woods, you've skipped that this time, just a beautiful castle with a new voice in your head to replace the Smitten, who's grown... oddly quiet. You go up the stairs this time, not to a basement but to a lavish dining room, where the Princess, now in an even FANCIER and more poofy fairy tale gown, sits at the far end of a long table. The Pristine Blade hangs on a chain over her neck, its sharp end pointing directly over her heart, and an ominous, bird-like shadow hovers above her, its talons over her shoulders.

You, your voices, the Narrator, and the Princess are forced to act out a Happily Ever After. You share a delicious feast, and when you're done you eat it again, and again, and again, until what once tasted delicious begins to feel like sand on your tongue. You play board games, again and again, until you grow utterly bored with them. You realize with mounting horror that this "paradise" is never-ending, a fact that breaks the Narrator more than anyone else - for some reason, seeing this never-ending Happily Ever After really destroys his morale. The Princess is clearly unhappy too, but feels too defeated to offer any resistance. She probably wouldn't even resist if you just reached over and shoved that knife into her heart...

But if you're me, you don't. Instead you make the choice you were trying to make since the beginning: you take her hand, and offer to get her out of here. The Narrator doesn't even complain this time - he's seen that there are fates worse than the end of the world.

The Princess stops you at the door and asks whether you still think you love her after you endured all of this on her account. You can in turn ask her what she really wants, and she explains that all she wants is to escape this cabin and dance under the stars. So you take her out, and she dances, free thanks to you...

And the stars go out. The world fades away. The Princess grows cold and still, and dozens of disembodied hands emerge from the void to pull her into it. The world, as you know it, is at an end. All there is left is you, a void, and a mirror.

You look in the mirror and see yourself - something that is very much NOT human, a bird-like figure with feathers and talon-like hands. Eventually you see a large mound in the void, and atop it is the Princess, her lifeless body held aloft and puppeteered by dozens of disembodied hands. Her corps speaks with a voice that both is and is not her own, and speaks of herself as a clearly inhuman entity - "an ocean that has been reduced to a small pond." She tells you how the Princess you knew, this Vessel, is but a fraction of her - perhaps, you might think, the way your own Voices are a fraction of you. After all, she says that she believes You are something akin to her, and notes that she feels drawn to you. If you bring her more vessels - different vessels, specifically, different fractions of her - she can become more whole, and perhaps the two of you can figure out what you are and what has been done to you.

That's right, fuckers, getting that girl out of the cabin was just STEP ONE in this whole ordeal.

You ask about the Princess - is she dead? The shifting mound gives her a eulogy of sorts, highlighting how this vessel was shaped by your choices, and tells you not to mourn her, because her experiences will live on in the mound and give her a warm and loving heart. Then she sends you back - back to the path, back to the cabin, back to make different choices and create a different princess.

That is the meat of the game - not just discovering the answer to all those reasonable questions the initial scenario gives you, but to shape the Princess and be shaped by her in turn. Your shifting perceptions of her reveal new facets of her personality and nature - different personas she undertakes that are made literal as a result of her actions. And in turn you gain new facets of yourself, new voices for impulses and beliefs you hold.

Let's say you decide to take the Pristine Blade down with you this time. The Princess's demeanor is immediately different - she regards you with more obvious suspicion, knowing that the knife in your hand means nothing good for her. You dilly dally, you splutter, and maybe you wait too long to make a choice, only to decide at the last minute, what the hell, let's try to slay her and see what happens.

And she kicks your ass so utterly that you never get a single strike in. As she stands over your broken, dying body, you can't help but think about how POWERFUL she is. Everything goes dark, and you die...

...Then you're on a path in the woods, and at the end of that path is a Princess who is immediately far more powerful than the one you met before. She's a giantess, her voice booms, and you barely come up to her knee. When the narrator talks she hears him for the first time, and forces him to first shut up, then to narrate the story she wants to tell. Your new voice, the Broken, demands you bow to your new goddess, but you find some strength to resist, and so she makes you kill yourself.

Dark, die, path, woods, cabin - you're back, but before you reach the cabin the ground quakes, and the Princess emerges, mountainous and godly in power, slaying the narrator outright and offering you a chance to be remade as her henchman. If you're me, you agree, you fucking simp, and watch as she tears open reality to find something beyond - beyond the cabin, beyond the woods, beyond the void, something strange and colorful and NEW. She reaches out to it, only to grow cold - disembodied hands emerge from the disappearing earth and begin to pull her down. Realizing her godlike power has limits, the Princess-turned-Goddess looks at you and apologizes for treating you unkindly when you "Are the only one who treated [her] with grace," and tries to let you, at least, escape into that great beyond - but unfortunately, neither of you make it.

Back to the mound. The pond becomes a lake, the mound apologizes for your strife and asks for another vessel. You return to the path in the woods.

You try slaying her again, still giving her warning, and the fight's more even - the two of you both get lethal blows. So you die, and return to the cabin, and now the Princess that waits for you is more aggressive, more boisterous, and explicitly monstrous, with horns on her head and a dragon's tail. You fight her, trying to use speed to your advantage against the advice of your newfound fightboi voice, and get killed for your trouble. Dark, woods, path, cabin, the Princess is bigger and more monstrous and draconic still, obsessed with fighting you again and again because conflict with you is what makes her feel ALIVE. You lure her out of the cabin, and the mound claims her.

Another vessel, please.

You go back, blade in hand, and you don't talk this time. You just go up and stab her to death before she can raise a hand. As you go back to the cabin, deed finally done, the Narrator congratulates you and informs you that your reward is, uh... being in this cabin. Forever. The world outside is still around, you just can't go back to it now. When you look out the door, the woods are gone, and there's a now-very familiar void. The Narrator insists this is a good thing, and you have no way out of it anyway.

Well, that's not true... there's a knife downstairs, after all.

Dark, woods, path, cabin. You find the princess's corpse in the basement this time, but that's not all - slowly an ethereal being rises from the floor. A ghost in a familiar dress with a familiar scar over her heart where you thrust the knife in. The Princess, now a specter, demands you help her escape - her old body is useless now, but yours is still intact, if you just give her a ride, and hey, you kind of owe her for killing her in the first place.

So you let her in, and she looks around the inside of your mind. There's all these shards of glass - your voices - and for the second time she's able to hear the narrator, though the specter is amiable enough to actually let him talk rather than trying to shut him up (though she still presses him to explain why he hates her so much and why he's sure she'll destroy the world when she has no desire to do so). You walk out of the cabin, and the mound claims her.

One more vessel, please.

You try to play hero again - you forsake the blade, you set her free, but because the Mound specified you must make NEW choices, you can't resist this time when the Narrator hijacks your choices. So you stab the Princess when her back is turned, and she fumes at your betrayal. Stab, dark, die...

Woods, path, cabin. You enter a basement that is more like a gnarled cave full of thorny vines, and find less a princess and more of a, well, Witch. She makes little effort to hide the fact that she resents your betrayal from last time, but you still want to play hero, dammit, so you apologize and offer the pristine blade to her as a sign of trust. She asks why on earth you'd do something so stupid, and if you're a simp like me, you tell her that it's because she's beautiful and you love her, because at this point you kind of do. She betrays you, of course, stabbing you as an eye for an eye, only to reel in horror as she realizes she has become everything she hates about you.

Dark, die, woods, path, cabin. The cabin is in ruins now, the basement is a tangle of thorny vines, and wrapped up inside them is the Princess, her body trapped not by a shackle but by the very thorns that prick and cut you as you enter. Her prison is also her best defense against you. She explains she has no idea what you want, or what she wants. You hurt her, she hurt you, why? What's the point of this? What do either of you want out of this relationship?

If you're me, you simp, you tell her that you just want out of this situation, and you want her out of it too, and that both of you deserve better, and that the only way either of you will get it is by working together. She lets you take the blade and cut her free, and, with the help of the voice of the Smitten, you finally, finally give this woman a kiss as a sign of your love - one that, to your GREAT satisfaction, the Narrator is forced to describe in exquisite detail.

She's claimed by the mound again, but for one moment, one beautiful moment, you two got to really figure out what this relationship you have is, to forgive each other for how you've hurt one another, to share some love and kindness, to define yourselves outside of this situation. And you kissed!

You return to the void, you meet the Mound, and both of you start to become what you really are: her, a goddess of death and change, you, a god of life and stability. The Shifting Mound demands that you embrace godhood, bringing out the vessels you've met to try and convince you to join her. But maybe that's not what you want - after all, you'd still be defined as something other than what you were, what you wanted to be.

The Voice of the Hero reaffirms that desire, and helps you find a more... well, human probably isn't the right word, but a more mortal core of Shifty, the Princess at the heart of the God.

You meet her in the basement of the cabin, and the two of you re-litigate the conversation you had with her previous incarnation. You don't want to hurt each other, you don't want to become gods. You just want to leave this all behind, but can you? What is there outside of this cabin - you've never managed to find it. If the two of you leave now, you won't be doing so as gods, and you won't know what lies beyond that door.

But you'll face it together. And after what you've faced together so far, what could really frighten you?

...

Slay the Princess is a game about the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known and the Hedgehog's Dilemma and, like, the inescapable fact that to have relationships with other people you will be hurt and you will hurt them in turn. That's the inescapable price of being known - your vulnerabilities will be exposed and wounded, as will those of the people you wish to know, and the care that you feel for them will come with pain. They will misunderstand you, you will misunderstand them, and at times you will make monsters of each other.

Like, even in the Damsel route, the one where you most explicitly try not to harm her, you still hurt her by thinking of her not as a person with autonomy, but as a victim to be rescued - a damsel, an ideal that you place on a pedestal but fail to view as an independent person who exists for reasons beyond your own desire to play hero. No matter what your intentions are, you will hurt her, and no matter how she tries to avoid it, she has to hurt you to survive.

But it's worth it, it is so worth it, because when you work through that pain, those misunderstandings, and truly, truly know someone and let them know you in turn, they can help you through the worst ordeals of your life. And that's what you and the Princess can do if you play your cards right.

The Princess changes in reaction to how you treat her, and you change in turn as a reaction to her choices. But the way you two change, while influenced by each other, also reveals truths about you. You are, in the end, two people who were put in an extremely fucked situation against your will, and both of you just want to live your lives. By the end of the game, you're the only people who could possibly understand each other. You've hurt each other countless times, but you've also been the only ones to comfort each other through this ordeal. You can, if you want, commit to keep striving to be better, for yourselves AND for each other, and that is what your romance with her truly is.

There are SO many other choices you can make in this game than the ones I've outlined - like, to illustrate: I've described The Damsel, The Happily Ever After, The Tower, the Apotheosis, The Adversary, The Eye of the Needle, The Ghost, The Witch, and The Thorn, but there's also:

The Nightmare, The Moment of Clarity, The Prisoner, The Cage, the Drowned Grey and the Burned Grey, The Razor, The Wraith, The Beast, The Den, The Wild, and The Princess and the Dragon.

And each of these individual princesses, including the ones I described for you, has MANY different ways to take their routes - like, if you keep asking The Damsel questions about herself, her artwork will get more crude and simplistic until she dies of becoming literally two-dimensional in a moment that's both horrifying and hilarious. There are so many sides of this woman for you to uncovers, so many facets of her personality and relationship with you to explore.

And there are, of course, other endings to the tale. You can embrace godhood, or you can kill her forever and accept the eternal stagnation the Narrator offered you. You can, if you want, make this into a very tragic story.

But, to me, this is and always will be a love story. The love story, even, the best love story ever told. There are few women in fiction I feel I know as well and as thoroughly as the Princess, and I do love her in my own, sad, parasocial way. One of my favorite stock phrases in a love story is "You are worth Hell," and dammit, never has that been more true than it is with her. She's worth Hell.

...shame she's not real, though. Ah well, time to find something else to fill the void inside me with for a time.

#Wife Goals #The Princess #The Shifting Mound #slay the princess

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bcolfanfic · 3 days ago

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hiiiiii (: spent too much time on lesbian history jstor and decided i need to give cessie some proper development- just in time for @blind-dates-fest (; we will see much more of her in my clegan WIP off roading- but here’s this for now.

***this is a completely different alternate universe than brady blue ticket land

**annie is cessie's friend from college that had them start writing each other

i guess she is technically a the pacific oc haha. but for now she's in mota land (:

\\\

May 15th, 1945 - Okinawa

Marjorie,

Your last letter only made its way to my hands in the dead of night, and I read it then and there, half-asleep but unwilling to wait. I like the way your words sound in my head, like I can hear you saying them. Annie doesn’t have much of an accent, but I suppose that’s because she’s not really from Wyoming. You must have one though, I’d expect. And I’d expect I’d like it too.

I can’t say I’m surprised that your pilot is bringing his pilot home. From all you’ve told me, I’d have wagered as much. I do hope he knows what he’s doing, but if he’s anything like you say, I expect they’ll be just fine given the chance.

As for things here, well, you can likely guess. It’s a strange thing, feeling the tide turning but still having to wade through the worst of it. I think I’m better at lying than I’ve ever been. The boys ask me if I think it’ll be over here too anytime soon, and I look them in the eye and tell them yes, though I don’t believe it myself. I think of home more often these days, but when I try to picture it, it doesn’t come as easy as it used to. Too much distance, I suppose. Or too much time.

There’s so much more I’d like to say, but you know how it is. I’d rather say it to your face, anyhow. It’s funny, isn’t it? I’ve seen your handwriting more than I’ve seen you. That hardly seems fair. I hope we’ll be able to fix that soon enough.

Write when you can, you know I’ll be waiting.

All my love,

Cessie

September 30th, 1945 - Casper, Wyoming

Cessie had imagined this moment a hundred times, maybe more. Every time she tucked a letter or a drawing into an envelope and sent across an ocean to somewhere safe. To a woman she’d never met but who, somehow, had become something steady in a world that never was.

For what had felt like a lifetime, her hands had been busy with bandages, needles, and the sweat-slicked, blood-slicked, foreheads of boys far too young to be dying. The idea of the war ending had once seemed almost ridiculous. The idea of the war ending and her standing here, in Casper, even more so.

And yet.

Marjorie stood just beyond the threshold, the late afternoon light catching on her hair, turning it gold at the edges. She was just a bit shorter than Cessie had pictured, hands twisting together at her waist, fingers curling and uncurling.

She looked like she might startle if she breathed too loud.

And was every bit as pretty as she’d been in the few photographs she’d sent her.

Cessie took a deep breath, glancing down at herself. Her dark, curly hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, a few strands brushing her freckled cheeks. She tugged the sleeve of her blouse into place and adjusted the way it tucked into her trousers, suddenly hyper-aware of the tremble in her hands.

Restless, she pushed a hand back through her hair, finding that she needed the motion to ground herself.

“Marjorie,” she said, finally.

Marjorie’s lips parted slightly, but no words came at first. Her hands fluttered at her sides before she managed to clasp them together right underneath her chin.

“Cessie,” she breathed, with a tremble to it.

Behind her, Cessie heard a sharp little snort, then a laugh, loud and unrestrained. The source stood just behind Marjorie, a dark-haired man she didn’t recognize. But the blonde one who shot him a quick glare before pinching his hip in reprimand, she knew from the photos was Gale.

Before she could decide whether to acknowledge them or not, the dark-haired one cleared his throat and stepped forward, all easy charm. Marjorie sidestepped to let him through, her fingers twisting together at her waist once again.

“John Egan,” he said, reaching for Cessie's hand and shaking it firmly before pulling back, giving Marjorie a little squeeze on the shoulder as he did. “We’ve both heard an awful lot about you from Marge here, should’ve seen how quick she snatched up your letter last week. Damn near bit my head off when I got to the mailbox first.”

“John.” Marjorie said- more a squeak than a proper protest.

Gale shot John a look, and he put both hands up in mock surrender, grinning all the while.

Cessie had known plenty of men like John Egan, flyboys with that casual sort of arrogance. But there was something different about these two, the charm feeling more disarming than it did irritating.

Still, she raised a brow.

“You two always lurk in doorways, or is this just a special occasion?”

John barked.

“Oh, this is a very special occasion.”

Marjorie, dear thing, looked as though she might keel over.

Cessie gave her a moment, letting the silence settle for a beat before she offered her an out.

“Now,” she said, picking her bag back up and slinging over her shoulder- waving off Gale when he moved to take it off of her. “Are you going to show me where I’m staying, or are we just going to stand here and let your friends gawk to their hearts content?”

Marjorie flushed again, and John, damn him, laughed even louder.

Straightening, she smoothed the skirt of her dress with one hand, inhaling and smiling some on the breath back out.

“This way then,” she said, quiet and turned on her heel. John made another gesture of surrender, and Cessie couldn't see the look from Marjorie that must have prompted it but chuckled soft under her breath anyhow.

Gale’s voice broke the silence from somewhere deeper in the house when the front door shut behind them.

“Why don’t you two sit down?” he called out. “I’ll grab us some coffee.”

Cessie smiled, her gaze shifting toward him for a brief moment before it settled back on Marjorie, who seemed almost relieved by the distraction. She nodded, a bit more composed now, though her fingers still fluttered restlessly at her sides.

“Come on,” Cessie said gently, nudging her head towards the living room they'd just passed. "Promise I don't bite."

A moment of hesitation passed, brief but noticeable enough for Cessie to catch the way Marjorie’s fingers twitched, as though the urge to reach out was there, but she wasn’t sure whether she could.

Marjorie beat her to the couch, sitting on the edge, hands clasped tight between her knees. The way her gaze lingered on her, waiting with a quiet intensity, was so sweet that it made Cessie’s teeth ache.

When she settled beside her, she slipped her arm around Marjorie’s shoulders, instinct taking over before she could second-guess herself. Only holding back for a second, Marjorie gradually shifted closer.

Her frame was warm against her side in the exact way she'd laid awake in the Pacific imagining it would be, and this whole deal suddenly felt more real than it had out on the porch.

Marjorie’s fingers brushed against her hand where it had come to rest on her shoulder, and her chest tightened with something soft.

“You know,” Cessie said, tentatively tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her face, “you’re even prettier in person.”

The words were out before she could second-guess them, and she watched as Marjorie’s eyes widened just slightly.

“Thank you,” she said with a voice that faltered, flush climbing up her neck. She straightened up a little, her shoulders stiff, lip tucked back under her teeth for a beat before she found her words. “You’re, I'd say- quite the sight, yourself."

Cessie let out a soft chuckle.

“And you’re just as straight-forward as you were in your letters,” Marjorie continued, the words tumbling out quickly, like she was trying to keep up with her own thoughts.

There was something about the way she was playing with her hand idly while she talked that made Cessie’s breath hitch, and it crashed over her like a wave that she wanted to kiss her with a desperation she hadn't expected.

But she swallowed thick and held back.

It could wait.

They had time.

Before she could respond at all, John’s voice broke the moment.

“Am I interrupting you ladies?" he said from the mouth of the room, amusement in his tone.

Marjorie’s face flamed red.

“You’re alright Marge,” John said, though his grin said he wasn’t sorry at all, his eyes flicking between them with a glint. “Just entertaining is all.”

Cessie laughed under her breath, holding John's gaze as she tucked another strand of hair behind Marjorie's ear.

“Didn't come all this way just to give you dinner and a show, John Egan."

Marjorie shifted subtly, then, slowly leaned further into her, tucking her head gently onto Cessie's shoulder. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, almost hesitantly, Marjorie slid one arm around Cessie’s front, pulling herself just a little closer.

Her breath, soft and warm against Cessie’s neck, sent a ripple of something fond through her- something that spread slowly, from the place where their bodies met, all the way down to her toes.

Cessie brought her chin down to rest atop her head, and the gesture felt protective in a way she hadn't meant it to.

Though, she realized where the instinct had come from when she locked eyes with John as he crossed the room, his gaze just a touch more curious than she thought she liked.

“I’m thinkin’ Cessie,” John said lightly as he sat back in the recliner, gesturing between Marjorie and where Gale was still getting the coffee ready in the kitchen. “That our sweethearts here might have a type.”

#cessie harrison #off roading #mota #marjorie spencer #background clegan

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sukunastoy · 3 days ago

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Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Chapter 1, Part 2 (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

Continuation of Part 1 of Chapter 1 Here

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to implement real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger warnings: In full on the Prologue chapter Wordcount: 4.1k+

This chapter is a backstory of how Toji and Reader met. Since Toji is not necessarily a main character in this story, I don't want to focus on a lot of detail for this backstory. But it needs to be told.

Toji and Reader are in high school, Toji is a senior, and reader is a freshman. Though I don't specifically put anything into detail, since everyone is a minor, you get the basic idea. Toji is not a good guy.

Since this is part of a backstory, Sukuna isn't mentioned or appears in this chapter at all.

Trigger/Content Warning, please read!:

⭐This chapter specifically mentions drugging, underage sex, underage drinking, rape without knowledge, filmed during sex without consent, morning after pills/abortion drugs, and manipulation.⭐

Trigger/Content Warning, please read!:

⭐This chapter specifically mentions drugging, underage sex, underage drinking, rape without knowledge, filmed during sex without consent, morning after pills/abortion drugs, and manipulation.⭐

"And one more picture of that pretty, ruined pussy. You'll probably make me a decent amount of money." Toji smirked while snapping the seventh or eighth photo on his phone. -"Hey, check this one out. Ruined her spoiled little virgin cunt."- -"Damn, you sure know how to pick the best ones."- -"Doesn't take much. Make them feel special and they'll drop that guard of theirs."- -"Well, drugging them also helps." -"I thought she was gonna just let me, but she wanted to wait for the right moment I guess."- -"It's so lame. I dunno why bitches need sex to be anything more than just sex."- -"Oh well. She's just a dumb, used whore now. When she finally lets me fuck her, I'll let her pretend its her first time."- -"Do your thing man, and let me know the next time you get her drugged up, I want a piece of that. Its so much easier when they're unconscious and not crying or squirming."- -"Just drop that money into my hand and you can fuck her whenever."-

Saturday, 4:37 AM

Everything ached. And your head was absolutely throbbing. A dazed whimper fell from your lips as you struggled to open your eyes. Your eye lids were almost unbearably heavy, as if they were being held shut. Sitting up, you weakly reached an arm to your head, trying to rub your eyes so you could wake up. Everything hurt so incredibly bad, like, bad... A bit of dread filled your mind as you looked around your bedroom. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, yet everything felt off. Your phone was nearby, and you grabbed it, looking at the time. Only 4:37 in the morning. You went to your messages, texting Toji to see what time he ended up leaving, and if he noticed you acting weird before he left. -"Hey! I just randomly woke up, but I have like a massive headache and everything is really sore. What happened after I got home last night?"-

You waited a moment, hoping for a reply but none came for a long while. By the time you did get anything back, you had slowly spiraled into a panic. Of course the worst consumed your mind, only imagining horrible outcomes of what might have happened the night before. Surely, Toji wouldn't have done anything bad to you, right?

-"Hey princess. Gave you some tea and you were relaxing on the couch. But, you seemed to be a bit buzzed still, you started passin' out on your couch so I put ya to bed and left."

He put you in bed? Well, it did seem quite nice of him. You rarely drank, so it's no wonder you felt like crap. It was certain parts of your body being sore that was a concern to you however. -"We didn't like, do anything, right? I know you kissed me in the car, but you didn't do anything else, did you?"- You nibbled your lower lip in worry while seeing the three little dots of Toji's reply appearing and disappearing before anything was said.

-"Of course not. Why would I do something like that? You were basically passed out, what are you implying?"-

The back of your throat burned as anxiety bubbled up in your chest. Oh shit, you basically just accused him of doing something to you!

-"I'm sorry, that didn't come out right, I'm certainly not accusing you of anything! I wasn't trying to make it sound that way."- You gripped your phone with sweaty palms as the three little dots popped up again, but then disappeared. Leaving you on read.

-"I'm really sorry, I'm just feeling weird and not thinking right."- No reply, and it wasn't even shown as read, only delivered. Several minutes passed and you stared desperately at your phone, awaiting a reply to ease your conscious, but none ever came.

And nothing ever came for the rest of the day either. Though you walked around with a small limp from a pain in your hip, all you could think of was how Toji must have felt for you basically accusing him of doing something to you. He had been nothing but nice and charming the entire night, and then you insult him with that accusation? Stupid.

Monday, 7:37 AM

Monday only brought more worry as you still hadn't heard from him. You were probably going to see him here at school soon and after not hearing back from him just sent tremors through you. How fucking awkward it will be. You waited for him near the lunch room, hoping things wouldn't be tense. What if he completely ignored you? When someone flicked your ear from behind, you quickly whipped around, only to see Toji standing over you, a charmed grin on his face. "Hey there. Ready to eat?"

A little smile crept across your face at his good attitude, but it was still a little nervewracking. "Hey, yeah, but, why didn't you ever text me back?" you wondered, pulling your bottom lip as you looked up to him hopefully. "Oh, I fell asleep and then just forgot." he shrugged it off, that smile never leaving his face as if there wasn't a single problem. You studied him, trying to decipher what he was really feeling, but his expression never faltered. You probably were just overreacting and then panicking, everything seemed fine.

When he invited you out to another party for the next friday, you immediately accepted, wanting another chance to be around him the way you were before. It was mostly the same as before, the only difference being some new faces, but you were still one of the very few freshmen to be among the crowd. You did your best to not drink as much, not wanting to wake up the same way you did last weekend. Dropping you off back at home, you looked over to Toji a little expectantly, licking your upper lip as sublty as possible in anticipation. You wanted him to kiss you like that again, to pull you into his lap and kiss you as if he was craving you. However, he got out of the car, and walked over to your doorside, opening it for you. "Hope you had another good time." He simply said, ushering you out of the seat. You didn't press it, not wanting to seem desperate or confused. This almost became a normal thing, every friday night. There'd be some party, you'd get to go, but Toji didn't try to kiss you anymore. He didn't act any different towards you, but he wouldn't touch you. Had you honestly hurt his feelings that bad where he was afraid to touch you now?

Friday, 11:47 PM

By the fourth friday of him not touching you in any way at all, you took matters into your own hands. As soon as he put the car in park, you climbed over into his lap, gripping onto his shirt desperately as you pressed your lips against his. You whimpered in delight when you felt his large hands settle at your waist, fingertips pushing into your skin. Instead of him returning your kiss in earnest though, he pushed you back, looking at you in an almost confused way. "What's gotten into you all the sudden?"

Your cheeks flared with embarassment, and you weren't even sure how to react right now. "I...I'm sorry, I..." He sighed heavily while turning his head and opening the car door. "Look, I like you but you basically accused me of doing something to you. Thats pretty shitty. You know how much trouble I could get into for some shit like that? You drank too much, and I put you to bed." "I truly didn't mean it like that." You pleaded as he placed you out of the car before getting out. Your short frame stared up to him nervously as he stood up and ran a hand over his face, sighing out in the process. "Please, Toji, I was still mostly asleep when I messaged you, so I wasn't thinking properly." You basically begged, reaching out and holding his hand with both of yours. You did really like this guy, and ruining it already was torturous. He seemed to ponder in his mind, his expression changing slightly as if trying to decide how to proceed from here. "You really want me to kiss you again?"

You nodded quickly, your eyes searching between his as he looked down to you. "Your parents home?" "No, they're out of town again for a couple weeks." "If I come inside again, you're not gonna panic if you wake up tomorrow with some headache, right?" "No, no of course not."

Even if you did wake up feeling like shit again, you certainly weren't going to say anything to him. The last few times you woke up from attending the parties, you hadn't been sore or felt weird. You also had made sure to drink way less than you initially did on the first party night. It was probably just too much alcohol.

Toji brought you another cup of hot tea, you and you fondly watched him sit down next to you on the couch. The butterflies in your stomach were strong as he placed an arm along the back of the couch behind your head, and you couldn't help but scoot a little closer to him, wnting to be against him if possible. Seeing your actions, he smirked and gestured you closer, now wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close.

"Thank you." you softly said, resting your head onto him. "For what?" "Staying with me. I've just been a little lonely lately, and I don't want to lose you either." He smirked while holding you closer to him. "Trust me, I don't plan on leaving your side anytime soon at all."

"Just relax. It might hurt just cause you've never done anything before, but thats normal. The more we do it, the less it will hurt and better it will feel. I promise."

As Toji crawled over you in your bed, your heart beat against the inside of your chest. You weren't sure if you really wanted this right now, but what were you supposed to do otherwise? If you turned him down, he might lose interest. And with the recent move, losing your friends and your parents never being home, the last thing you wanted was to be alone. Toji had been nothing but nice to you since your first day in the new school. Putting out for him shouldn't be that big of a deal. It's just sex, teenagers do it all the time. But why did it feel so, scary?

After he had started making out with you on the couch, you felt this aching desire in your core that you couldn't explain. When Toji's hand came in between your legs and felt the warm, damp fabric, he said it was time for you two to just break the ice, cause you clearly wanted him in this way.

You stared up at the ceiling in the dark, your eyes trying to focus on anything. Quietly wiping some of the tears from your cheeks, you wondered, was it supposed to hurt? Was it supposed to make you feel, used? You imagined it was supposed to be a little more, romantic. Well, he did say he was bigger than average, and you heard that the first time is kinda painful cause it's new, so, maybe that's all it was. Looking over to Toji, you studied his sleeping form, still embarrassed that the two of you were naked and up against each other. He did have an arm wrapped around your waist, and his fingers held softly into your skin. The smell of sex was still in the air, and it wasn't pleasent as you had always imagined it. You've snuck some romance novels into your collection of books over the past year, curiosity of intimacy pulling you in, cause you wanted to know what it was like to be in a real relationship To be mature and have fun, casual sex like a normal teenager.

Fucking hormones.

The way the words described how someone's first time might be seemed to be an overdramatic lie now. Maybe it was your own fault for imagining it to play out like some fairytale. You were kind of excited for that big high that seemed to elevate women from this plane of existence, but, it never happened. Toji certainly got his, there was clear evidence of that, a mess he obviously didn't care to clean up from you. Wait, you weren't that ignorant to how babies were made. Oh, fuck. You quickly sat up, breath nearly escaping you as you started to panic. You had already been on your period for a year or so, and obviously that meant you could get pregnant. Pregnant, at 14? What a fucking disgrace you'd be to your parents! You already just started having sex with this guy you recently met. What was wrong with you!? "Oh god, oh god!" You cried out, clutching your hand over your chest as you feared what might be happening inside your body this moment. Toji groaned and looked up at you with an aggravated yet concerned look. "What? What's wrong?" "I-I could be pregnant!" You whined, whole body shaking with that terrible idea. You were too young to have a kid. You'd have to drop out of school, have to figure out how to be a mom, you're be such a degenerate to your family. The humiliation!

"Oh, shit, I meant to give you something for later anyway." He said with little worry, like this wasn't some big deal. He rolled over and sat up from the bed, grabbing his pants from where he tossed them over your desk chair. "Here. Just take this." He offered, handing a small pill to you. "A, drug?" You stammered, looking at it in confusion. "It's a morning after pill. Keeps you from getting pregnant." He gestured with it, and you took it carefully, trying to understand how a pill could stop such a thing. "Why is it called a morning after pill?" "Uh, cause ya' usually take it in the morning after fucking through the night." Your cheeks flashed but you stuffed the pill in your mouth, enough saliva building from your panic that you could just swallow it as is. "And just like that, no problems." He chuckled while setting his pants back down and messing with something near your desk. He finally got back into bed, his larger form crawling over yours, making you cower down into the blankets as he planted kisses on your neck and chest. "Let's get as much use out of that pill as possible." You tried to smile in want as his hand came up between your legs, preparing you to take him again. You wanted to feel mature and interested in all this, but in reality, it felt off putting. Probably just cause it was new and you weren't used to it. Everyone who ever talked about having sex seemed to not be able to get enough of it. Like it was as needed as eating and drinking was. You just had to get used to it. More practice. So, you certainly weren't going to turn Toji down. At some point you knew you'd have to start loving it as much as everyone else, and how the women in your hidden romance novels loved it. Though you couldn't stop the tears from flowing as pain rattled your lower half. Patience, you just needed patience. Surely, Toji wasn't hurting you on purpose. But you didn't want to make him feel bad and tell him to stop when he was clearly enjoying himself and saying how fucking good you felt. But... It hurt. It fucking hurt so bad. A deep ache in your guts that just seemed to intensify with every passing second. Every pained whimper that escaped your lips was immediately matched with Toji's low groans and deep moans of pleasure. Yet, he'd also plant gentle kisses to your teary cheeks, praising your intimate areas for making him feel so good. It made your heart flutter, but you couldn't stop from digging your nails into his back, silently begging him to hurry up and be done because you felt like you were going to break. He lifted your legs up to his waist, encouraging you to wrap them around his body so he could go even deeper but you internally sobbed at the thought. Of course, you noticed how much more he seemed to enjoy it when he could basically get as much of you as he wanted. You suffered through it for that reason, and that reason only. You liked knowing he was happy, liked knowing you could make him happy. You had his attention and you were doing something that he praised you for.

Unfortunately, you weren't aware of just how many other guys attentions you had in this moment. It might have just been you and Toji alone in the room, but the little camera he had placed on your desk broadcasted this moment to whoever was in his circle. They sent texts to Toji, offering their small wads of cash for a night with you, his new little toy. Some even in groups of two or more, the ones that liked to take turns on a girl's unconscious body. He'd get to them later, deciding who would pay the best, and you'd be none the wiser.

"Good morning, beautiful." Tojis deep voice pulled you from your exhaustion, and your dazed features made him chuckle. "Sleep well?" Your vision focused on him, and you offered a weakened smile. Honestly, no. It feels like your insides were punched for hours, leaving you battered and bruised in a place you couldn't comfort.

But as he gently kissed your lips, and held a hand softly to your cheek, the pain eased up a little. "You are so perfect." He breathed out quietly, moving his lips up to your forehead. Warmth filled your cheeks as he lay next to you, holding you with comfort against his warm body. "Honestly, I've never enjoyed someone as much as you." You wanted to have some witty comeback, that of course you were the best, trying to sound confident, but it was hard to speak right now. Probably because you just started crying. Tojis face softened as you just let your emotions out. "What's wrong?" He asked gently, holding you even closer. "It, it all just hurts. And I'm confused, my head is full of worry." "Worry? About what?" "I don't know." You admitted, tucking your self into Tojis arms. Honestly you didn't know. Everything felt weird. You were supposed to like this, weren't you? You liked him, he definitely liked you too, and he was super hot. So weren't you supposed to be madly in love?

I hope you enjoyed! I'm so sorry this is a week late, life got in the way. I wante this first chapter to only have two parts, but I didn't want this last part to be extremely long, so I decided to make one more part after this. So there will be three in total. The next part will happen this week so Im not so far behind on my personal schedule.

Comments and likes are truly appreciated!! <3

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #toji x reader #jjk toji #fushiguro toji #please read content warnings

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