#back on my Teeth bs again

[godbirdart]

「 SHOW ME YOUR TEETH 」

[umbrellacam]

I feel like whether Tim is on some level suicidal in RR #12 is very open to interpretation, which is part of what makes it fascinating!

because Tim's homecoming to Gotham is the culmination of an upward/self-actualization arc, after struggling through multiple low points/depression/an extended breakdown.

he finally got proof Bruce is alive. managed to claw Tam and himself out of the Cradle and away from the Council of Spiders/LoA by the skin of their teeth. thumbed his nose at Ra's and reaffirmed his own principles by blowing up all the LoA servers. finally kind of processed that Kon and Bart are both alive again - he just tackle-hugged Kon in RR #9 and told him, "when you found me in Paris, I was in a bad place. Now... Now I'm in a good place." he's full of renewed purpose and the realization that he doesn't, in fact, have to do things alone! (team-up Robin ftw!)

so probably not actively suicidal

but then in all of his frantic calculations to thwart Ra's and save each and every person Bruce loved - he doesn't factor himself in. he doesn't put himself on that list of loved ones and set up a contingency for preserving his own life (wtf Tim).

or does he??? that's where the ambiguity comes in for me, because we don't actually see him discussing the full details of his plan with anyone. and he doesn't mention it in his internal narration, either! because his internal narration is always super reliable..... hmmm.....

we know that Dick isn't aware of any other contingencies, or indeed the full details of the plot they were thwarting - after catching Tim, Dick has to ask him, "You want to tell me what that was all about?" and of course "How did you know I'd be there to save you?"

and as I've mentioned before, I don't think Tim had actually planned for Dick to save him, so his "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me," response is uh, both loving BS and a "genuinely felt expression of retroactive faith", as Silver put it (and which has been stuck in my mind in glowing cursive letters ever since, lol).

but. we do know that as part of his plan to thwart Ra's ninja-assassinate-Bruce's-loved-ones plot, Tim calls all three of his best friends into Gotham. (among all his other rallied allies.) his best friends who are various combinations of flight and/or superspeed capable. and who had each just smugly patched in via comm to confirm that their protection jobs were all successful, meaning Tim knew they were available if he potentially needed them.

the fact that the rest of the Core Four then twiddle their thumbs and let Tim keep fighting Ra's on his own after confirming Alfred/Selina/Barbara are safe, instead of zipping over to have his back (ie punch the jackass through a wall) almost has to be because of: (a) Tim's plan to deliberately stall so Lucius could file the WE paperwork (on the Watsonian level), (b) Yost allowing Tim to have his Final Showdown with the villain of the arc on his own, and also (c) Yost setting up the emotional climax/reconciliation of Dick catching Tim (both on the Doylist level).

like, Tim stalls Ra's for long enough that Dick is able to glide and grapple his way over from his own ninja-busting detail, we don't think the speedster or the Superboy could have gotten there in time?

Dick is the one who caught Tim because it was thematic, it's a motif in their relationship and the resolution of their 12-issue arc, and don't get me wrong I wouldn't change that moment for anything - but! he wasn't the only one around who could have done so.

and Iiiiii have to suspect Tim would know that? there's ambiguity and room for interpretation, of course, especially since Tim doesn't say anything at all or call out to anyone as he's actually falling.

but also. Kryptonian superhearing? Tim's comm which could very well still be connected? could he have been relying on allies listening/clue-ing in, whether or not he actually explicitly sketched out a back-up plan with anyone to come back him up, after Lucius was done transferring WE? all according to (dumbass improvised) keikaku??

idk! seems plausible to me, but it's all so open to interpretation, it makes my brain go BRRRRRR 😊 like you can make a compelling case/headcanon/fic any way you look at it!

anyway. Dick catching Tim is very much The Moment Ever Of All Time <3 but also the thought of Kon just hovering at the ready to grab Rob but spotting Dick!Bats swooping in and being like ":))) oh ok. they both need this." is v. hilarious to me

[silent-sanctum]

Your last fics tearing my hearts apart😭😭Anyways may I request jotaro kujo with a pregnant s/o? He probably would be defensive like that time when Holly got the fever

Ah yes! We have another 2-for-1 special! But let's make it a list of headcanons to switch things up 😉This one's for @lolsandlmaos and anon, and let me just say, yes; I love writing wholesome dadtaro content and I'm glad the audience likes some wholesome dadtaro content too. So, hope you enjoy! ♡

Before I start, can we all just silently agree that Jotaro really just wanted a family of his own canonically?

Think about it, we know he isn't the type to sleep around at random. What if the man wanted what his grandparents had and live a life without the Stand bs? The fact he found somebody and had a kid with her tells us that he tried to make it work, but we know that it didn't as we see in the series.

"I've always cherished you"

He wanted that life. He wanted to be a good father to his daughter. But he couldn't because of the family curse.

Anyways! Let's forget the canon for a moment and delve into some wholesome headcanons!

When he first heard the news, he was pleasantly surprised that he couldn't speak for a solid minute. He simply stared at you with wide eyes and stunned silence.

Later that day, the man is glued to your side holding you in his arms and he's uncharacteristically showing affection: He's nuzzling your neck, planting kisses wherever he could, gently swaying you back and forth, and most importantly, he's often caressing your flat tummy.

Now that's done with, Jotaro's already gone into Papa Wolf mode as early as the first weeks

He knows he isn't the sunny Golden Retriever type of guy like his grandfather or great-grandfather, so he isn't naturally attuned to being a first-time dad. Lowkey, he's anxious he might end up as a shitty husband in the process.

But what he does know is that he loves to research, is adaptable, and is a quick learner

He begins to visit the nearby library and study "maternal and child care". Then proceeds to go over what to do for each trimester, he studies proper diet and eating patterns for pregnant partners, and studiously digests a whole book's worth of "How to be a Good Father".

Being in this mode also means he naturally becomes protective of you. He makes sure that he has time for you and your needs. Want to go anywhere out of the house? He'll be accompanying you there. No doubt.

If anyone even remotely makes a rude remark about you, Star Platinum has already punched their teeth out.

If you thought Jotaro couldn't cook, then think again because when his partner is pregnant, you bet your ass that he'll learn how to cook faster than you expected him to.

At first, he's still working on the basics like knowing what ingredients and kitchen paraphernalia should be used. He has a recipe book or two propped up for him to skim over and study. He even calls Holly for cooking tutorials when he feels like he's hit a learning slump. His mother has already booked a ticket to your place and immediately teaches her son numerous cooking lessons

Weeks later, you're surprised that Jotaro has become a natural in the kitchen, being able to dish out your favorites with seemingly no issue. It turns out that while Jotaro did most of the work, he had Star assist him with the "finer" stuff (i.e. measurements, cutting, etc.)

Suffice it to say, he takes pride in himself that he can now make you smile with his newfound talent.

Then there are the cravings. Of course, when you ask him to buy the most random food combinations, Jotaro would simply say "okay" and buy them anyway, as long as the food choices weren't harmful to you and the baby. He'd also give you food even if you asked him in the ass crack of morning.

Anything to make you happy after all

When it comes to building the nursery, Jotaro leaves you to do the interior designing and aesthetic choices since he's shit at that. But when the furniture arrives in their boxes, then it's time for him to step in and does all the arranging, moving, and assembling for you. Have a planned layout? He'll follow them. Want the walls painted a certain color? No problem.

After you planned everything out and he finished his tasks, the nursery ended up being marine-themed with all the pastel blues and aquatic decor like sea animal plushies, a shell lamp, glow-in-the-dark fish wall stickers, and more bringing life to the place.

Remember when I said he'd do work, yeah he'll do the work. House husband style. He'll do the chores and let you rest, grumpily insisting you sit and relax when you try to convince him that you can do the lighter tasks.

From time to time, when both of you aren't doing anything, Jotaro would occasionally turn to your round stomach and reach forward to caress it, blushing as he does so.

Then a kick happens and the man's fully attuned to you in awe. On the outside, he's still a calm dude but deep down, he's so excited that the baby responded to his touch. You ended up scooting closer to him, seeking cuddles while he reciprocates as he still continues to stroke your tummy.

Jotaro, at this point in his life, has the patience of a monk towards his loved ones, so when the mommy mood swings kick in, he is more than ready to adapt to your every emotional breakdown even if he's just going to be there to either take it, calm you, or comfort you in silence

That also includes the part where you become horny. Of course, he'll be gentler with you during this time of your pregnancy, but he can't help but include a few rough bucks of his hip when he's about to go off the edge.

Other times, just touching you can help ease that heightened libido

He'll immediately drive you to the hospital once your water breaks. He'll wait with you throughout labor, hoping his soft caresses are enough to make up for his lack of comforting words. At times, Star will come out to help him distract you from the contractions.

He'd pace around outside the delivery room, anxious with his mind already overthinking what bad could happen to you and the baby. It's a good thing Holly is there to help reassure her son that his wife and child would be okay.

When Jotaro finally gets to visit, his eyes land on the swaddled little one in her tiny crib stationed beside your bed. He beelines straight to it and pauses in complete awe at the tiny baby cooing before him.

You can't help but giggle as your husband's eyes start to water as he gingerly reaches down to pick up his newborn daughter. He's still in awe, completely fixated on baby Jolyne.

Then after he sits down on the chair by your bedside, he brings his index to touch her and his heart skips a beat when the baby grasps it with her whole hand.

And the waterworks are broken and he ends up leaning against your side while you nuzzle against him as he tries to regain composure from tearing up so much from seeing and feeling his bundle of joy.

Admittedly, Jotaro is scared about whether he'd do a good job being a father, but to both you and himself, he promises that he'll do his damn best.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

skz when you say “i love you” for the first time.. and it’s in bed

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: soft smut. mostly sweet and fluffy.

word count: ~2.9k

warnings: general soft smut, oral, fingering (on my jeongin hand kink bs again), pet names, seungmin is kinda rough, i think that’s all?

masterlist

channie:

would be so so so soft about it. 🥺

he had known that he is in love with you for a while now but always was too scared to say it. he didn’t want you to feel like he was moving too fast. but it was constantly running through his mind. so when the moment comes where he is deep inside you, his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tight to his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from everything, his scent completely enveloping you, his dark curls tickling your cheek as he leans in and presses a kiss to your neck. when you’re shaking under him and whimpering his name and coming undone around his cock, and then he hears it. mid orgasm, a gentle ‘i love you’ slips past your lips.

he has to pull back a little to look you in the eye, searching your face for any signs of regret. but all he found were your big doe eyes, filled with love and brimming tears. “baby, what did you just say?” he would ask, quietly. a whisper of disbelief.

cheeks going red, thinking maybe it was too soon for you to have said such a thing, you look away from him and mumble “i said, i— i love you.”

“that’s what i thought you said.” he would lean in and kiss you, the softest sweetest kiss he’s ever given you, before whispering against your lips “i love you too.” then he would kiss you again before repeating, “i love you so much.”

he would relax his body into you, his forehead resting against yours, the occasional peck against your skin. before saying it one last time before you slip into sleep, “i love you.”

•

minho:

also a big softie about it but gets nervous

he’s got your knees up by your ears, you body bent in half under him, full mating press, his strong arms caging your head. his hair falls in his eyes, tickling your forehead, his hot breath fanning against your cheek as he pants. he’s hitting that perfect spot inside you, your walls clenching around him.

“fu-fuck baby, you’re clenching.” he grunts.

you admire his sharp, handsome features. you notice the sheen of sweat on his forehead. your heart swells in your chest. he’s making you feel so good, you can’t help but to cradle his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“minho..” a moaned whisper. you let your thumb rub across his cheek. “minho, baby, i love you.” you confess.

his thrusts stutter and then stop. he doesn’t pull out, doesn’t even really move, he just looks away from your face, chuckling nervously. his thrusts slowly start up again. you turn your head to place a gentle kiss on his toned arm. his head drops and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. he’s grunting, thrusting in and out at a good pace. he kisses your neck gently before saying “you love me?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “yes. i really do.”

“i love you too.” he says into your neck. and his voice is filled with such emotion that you believe him. and as his thrusts get faster and sloppier with the approach of his release, he moves his lips from your neck to your mouth, kissing you softly. and as he cums, his cock twitching inside you, he says it again. “i love you.”

•

binnie:

would immediately get so excited about it

you’re straddling him, sitting on the couch, his cock sliding in and out of you as you slowly bounce on him. his hands are at your hips, squeezing and helping you with your motions.

“there you go, bunny. you’re doing so good.” he says, brushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear.

you feel so good with him inside you, so full. and when you pull your eyes away from where you two are connected and you look at his face, your heart flutters. his natural hair was wavy and still air drying from his shower. his glasses slowly sliding down his nose, his bottom lip in between his teeth, his broad chest on full display for you to look at. you moved your hands from his shoulders where they were supporting you, down to his large biceps. you gave his muscles a light squeeze. he looked up at you and smiled.

you smiled back at him and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. his hands slowly moved from your hips, up your back, his fingertips leaving goosebumps.

“i love you, binnie.” you whispered.

the slow thrusts stopped and he held you in place.

“what was that, bun?” he asked, looking into your eyes now.

“i said, i love you.” a smile started to spread across his face, his heart pounding.

“you love me?” he asked excitedly. “you’ve never said that before.” he was downright giddy. he pulled you close, wrapped his big arms around you, and kissed your hair. “i love you too, bunny.” he said, shaking your body with his excitement. his thrusts started up again, slightly faster this time, you were still on top of him but he was doing all the work.

“so sweet.” he grunted. “i love my little bunny. love her so much.” he kissed any part of you he could reach— your cheek, your shoulder, your lips, your neck, your chest— as he brought you both close to your high.

and when you both reached that peak, and everything went still, he lazily smiled and exhaled on a shaky breath, “i love you.”

•

hyunjin:

would say it before you did

it was early morning, the sheets a rumpled mess around you, the window open, the long curtains blowing in the breeze. he was on top of you, his soft kisses moving from your pussy, to your navel, to your sternum and making their way back up. he looked at you through his hair, his face covered in your arousal, his cock brushing against your entrance, and you thought you had never been happier. you’ve never felt this closely attached to someone. never felt this amount of pull toward another person. never felt like your heart may burst at any moment, being unable to hold the amount of feelings you have for him.

he kissed your neck, kissed your jaw, kissed your lips. “you’re a goddess.” he whispered against your skin, before slowly sliding inside you. you both groaned at the feeling of it. his head fell to rest in the crook of your neck, your arms wrapping around him. he lay still, letting you adjust to his size. he placed a kiss on your collar bone before whispering, “i love you.” his breath tickled against your skin. and though you were surprised at hearing these words for the first time, you didn’t hesitate to return his sentiment.

“i love you too, jinnie.” you say, your hands tangling in his hair. he pulls back, supporting himself on his hands either side of your head and looks deep into your eyes. he stares for a moment, but then must find what he was searching for, because he leans down and kisses your lips.

“i love you.” he says against your lips. “i love you.” kiss. “i love you.” kiss. he starts to move in and out slowly, your eyes falling closed in bliss. “i love you.”

•

jisung:

would get so adorably nervous

you had your mouth around him, your favorite thing. his length sliding in and out from between your lips, your spit dripping down his balls. his head was thrown back, little whimpers leaving his throat as he fights the urge to thrust up into your mouth. you were taking your time, savoring him, teasing him, but most of all, admiring him.

he was so soft and handsome above you, his cheeks flushed a light pink, his hair tousled. his eyes shut and his lips parted and slightly damp. his hands were in fists at his sides. you run your palms up his thighs, before grabbing his hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. you squeezed his hands and his head fell forward, his eyes opening to look at you, his pupils blown with lust.

you pulled off of his cock with a pop. you rose from your knees and straddled his lap, bringing your hands to cup his face as you kissed him. “you want to know something, sungie?” you ask him sweetly. he nods, thinking he would very much like to know something, but currently he knows nothing but the pleasure you’re bringing him.

you lined his cock up to your entrance and slowly sank down on him. his eyes rolled back, his hands on your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

“i love you.” you say to him.

his eyes went wide, his cheeks flushing a dark red color.

“i- you- i just- you-“ he stuttered.

you chuckled and leaned down to kiss him, slowly starting to rock your hips back and forth.

“i love you sungie. such a sweet boy.” you kissed him. “a perfect boy.”

you started to ride him harder, his breath coming in pants. “fu-fuck.” he said, his high approaching.

“you gonna cum, baby?” you asked him, squeezing around his cock. he nods vigorously and right as he cums, before the first twitch of his cock, before the first drop of cum enters your pussy, he says it. and he repeats it, over and over as he’s cumming. his voice shaky. “i love you. i love you”

•

felix

would be so sweet and might cry

he was slowly thrusting into you, his body weight on yours, tired after his first orgasm but not wanting to quit. he wants to give you as many as he physically can, or until you tell him to stop. your mind is hazy, full of nothing but him. nothing else exists, except him. you wondered what you did to deserve him. if you thought about it too hard, you might cry. he was panting into your ear, your pussy fluttering around him.

“fuck- angel-“ he moans, breathy. he pulls back to look at you, your eyes glassy, almost brimming with tears. he rubs his thumb across your cheek, his thrusts slowing due to his worry.

“no-no don’t slow down, please lixie.” you beg, so close to the edge.

“okay, baby. i won’t.” he cooed. “come on angel, you can do it. let go for me.”

and you did. your nails dug into his arms as your body shook. and then the tears spilled over onto your cheeks. a look of panic crossed his features.

“baby? what’s wrong?” he asks. “did i hurt you?” he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. he cradles your face in his hands, wiping your tears away as they fall.

“talk to me, angel. please.”

how do you even begin to explain to him what you were currently feeling? you didn’t think you could.

“i- i love you.” you said quietly through your tears. he looked a little surprised. “i’m sorry-“

“what? don’t be sorry.” he kissed you gently. “i love you too.”

you looked up and your eyes met his, and they mirrored your own. “you do?” you asked.

a single tear fell down his sweet freckled face as he kissed you yet again. “of course i do. i have for a while. and i will, forever. i love you.”

•

seungmin

would be a menace about it but loves you more

he was towering over you, his hands fisted in your hair, his cock as far down your throat as he could get it. tears were streaming down your face, but you loved it. pleasing him this way was your favorite and he knew that. but you could tell he still worried about you from time to time. he would get lost for a moment, thrusting in and out of your mouth, grunting, getting lost in his pleasure. but then he would pull out and briefly assess your face, checking on you. tonight he was being extra rough, which you welcomed. he had a long day at the company and just needed to get it out. so you begged him to.

"use me. please minnie.” you would say. and it would be his undoing. that’s how you found yourself on your knees in front of him. he had placed a pillow on the floor to help cushion your knees a bit, ever the gentleman. and he looked incredibly sexy above you, panting, his hair in disarray, some strands sticking to his forehead. and you knew that if tonight was like the other nights that he used you like this, when he was done he would dote on you and coo at you and massage you or draw you a bath. you loved to please him this way but you loved seungmin’s aftercare just as much. and you were reminded again in this moment, his cock all the way down your throat, your spit dripping down your chin, how much you loved him. truly loved him. and you had yet to tell him. you didn’t want to force anything on him, make him feel like he needed to say it back to you if he wasn’t ready. but you found it hard to hold your tongue in this moment when he pulled out and asked: “‘you doin okay, pup?”

and you answered with a simple, “i love you.”

the look on his face went blank for a moment before he smiled at you, his sweet loving smile he used in the aftercare. but that smile slowly turned devilish as he shoved his cock back in your throat. “you’re such a simp for me, huh? my cock make you feel that good?”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he used you, you attempting to nod in answer to his question. and soon after, he came, shooting his load down your throat which you greedily swallowed. he stood above you, panting, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. you nuzzled into his palm.

“you love me, huh?” he asked, smirking.

you just nodded, unable to form words just yet, but looked up at him with glassy eyes and messy cheeks.

“well, hate to break it to you, but i love you more.” he stated. “lets go get you a bath, pup.” he helped you off the floor and led you to the bathroom. as the tub filled, he pulled you against his chest, kissing the top of your head before whispering against your hair, “‘i love you.”

•

innie

would make you repeat it.

he had his fingers in your mouth. he had the fingers from the other hand in your pussy. they lazily thrust in and out as he leans close to whisper in your ear.

"you get all messy just thinking about my fingers, dont you?" he whispered, his breath tickling your neck. you nodded. "ah ah." he chided. "tell me, use words. let me hear your pretty voice, baby."

you werent sure if you could, with his fingers in your mouth. he notices the trepidation on your face. "you can do it, baby. ill understand you. tell me. "

"ye-yes. your fingers are so good, innie. you make me feel so good." you mumble around his fingers.

"there you go." he praised. he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and rose to his knees. he kept his fingers in your pussy, thrusting them in and out, but his other hand moved to your throat, squeezing slightly.

"fuck." you exhaled. he was a god. thats the thought that ran through your head at that moment. he was godly. but also, he was yours. he had proven that, time and time again, paying no attention to anyone but you. showering you with affection, feeding into your hand kink, making sure you knew just how cared for you were. but neither of you had ever said the L word. both a little too scared to shatter what was such a good thing. but in this moment, with his fingers deep inside you, looking down at you with lust filled heart eyes, you couldnt help yourself.

"i love you." you said, voice a little hoarse.

he removed his hand from your throat. "what was that, baby?" he asked, giving an extra hard thrust of his fingers.

"fuck- i- i love you." you repeated.

he started thrusting faster, your walls clenching around him, his other hand coming down to rub at your clit.

"im sorry, baby. one more time?" you knew that he heard you. you knew he was just teasing you at this point. the smirk on his face proved your theory.

"i love you!" you moaned out. about to tip over the edge into bliss. "oh my god, innie. dont stop." you begged. "i love you. i love you. i love you." and then you came. your pussy clamping down on his fingers, your arousal coating his hand.

"fuck, baby. there you go." he praised. once you had relaxed, and your body stopped shaking, once he had successfully helped you back down from your high, he leaned down to kiss your cheek before whispering in your ear, "i love you."

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[acmelxvr]

An Excellent Pairing (18+)

Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x Viago de Riva x Rook

Summary: When Lucanis discovers that Rook and Viago's relationship goes beyond that of a normal Crow and her Talon, he throws caution to the wind and indulges himself for one night only; surely that will be enough to satiate him for the rest of his days. However, he's surprised when he finds that they want to indulge him too.

Genre/Tags: Explicit, FMM Threesome, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Dom/Sub, Accidental Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Control, Slight Humiliation, Crying, Brat Taming if you squint, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Pussy Play, Aftercare, Creampie, Double Penetration, Overstimulation, Talk of Premature Ejaculation, Cum Eating, Gagging, Hair-pulling, Masturbation, Mild Choking, Clit Slapping, Begging, Slight Breeding, Virgin!Lucanis, Bottom!Lucanis, Top!Viago, Viago cannot SHUT UP during sex, Rook is a Cis Female

Word Count: ~12,000

Notes: Entirely self indulgent and a beast to finish. Good lord, just take a look at those tags.

Tagged as Not Canon Compliant because it doesn't really follow that whole "crow families are like real families" BS. Also tagged as Out of Character because I think Lucanis and Viago would (probably) rather gargle rusty nails than ever have non-monogamous sex. And Viago is definitely not cool enough to do half of the things he does here. But this is MY fic and damn it I want these three to fuck!!!!

I'm on Twitter and AO3 as @acmelxvr

You can read this on AO3 if you'd like to here

MDNI!!!!

When Lucanis wakes up, he finds himself in the Eluvian Room with a hand already through the mirror. He jumps, cursing out loud as Spite fills his head with his incessant yammering. “I want. To leave!” The shriek pulses in his ears, causing Lucanis’ headache to worsen with each passing second.

“I have a contract.” Lucanis starts. He turns to go back up the stairs, but Spite rages against his prison inside Lucanis’ head, causing him to fall to his knees.

“LEAVE!”

“You are impossible!” Lucanis says through gritted teeth. “We will leave. As soon as the contract is completed.” The idea of being away from Rook makes Lucanis’ heart drop, but he pushes the feeling down as he stands back up. He expects the demon to argue, but only hears a snarl as Spite retreats to the deepest recesses of his mind. He sighs, in relief and in exhaustion, knowing that Spite will simply try again once Lucanis falls asleep.

He resigns himself to walking around The Lighthouse for the night, although day and night are indistinguishable here. There are moments where everyone feels the call of sleep around the same time, but the light of The Fade does not change; a mutual agreement between all parties to leave each other alone for a few hours, one that Spite violates frequently.

Lucanis thrums his fingers against the many book spines in the library. Some are clearly from when Solas was the main inhabitant of this place, the pages thinned from wear and centuries long use, with writing in the margins from the same signature, “F”. The newer books, placed amongst the shelves by Bellara and Emmrich, brightly stand out against the old tombs. Lucanis is about to grab one, a pirate romance on the high seas, that Emmrich graciously found for him when he notices how the light from Rook’s room seeps into the library from the ajar door. 

Lucanis wants to go inside and talk to her under the guise of avoiding sleep, but thinks better of it. “I won’t disturb her. She might be doing something important.” He whispers to himself. Spite appears again, much to the chagrin of Lucanis.

“I want. To talk. To ROOK!” he snarls. Lucanis tilts his head to the side, trying to block out the demon. Once Spite starts chanting his request, Lucanis holds up a hand.

“I will indulge you this time. If you allow me to sleep after. Deal?” Spite nods excitedly.

Lucanis approaches Rook’s room, the light seeping from the door dancing around, so at least Rook is actually awake. His crow training demands that he never makes a sound as he moves, even in the supposed safety of The Lighthouse. Lucanis has noticed Rook does the same; the steps are different, but the crows move to the same waltz. 

Lucanis pauses his approach when he hears Rook’s groan muffled by something. He quickens his step, his heart hammering at the thought of Rook being in danger, but his voice catches in his throat when he realizes that Rook is not alone willingly. 

“You get to breathe when I say. And I swear, if you touch yourself I will make you regret it.” Viago’s tone is stern.

Viago.

Viago?

Lucanis’ head swarms with a million questions all at the same time. While he knew Rook and Viago were unusually close for a Talon and a regular crow in the same house, this goes beyond that. Talons do not fuck their crows, lest the opportunity to be lethally replaced presents itself. Not only that but Viago is…Viago. Uptight. Particular. Ruthless. Most rumors about each of the talons are exaggerated, but Lucanis knows that Viago’s reputation is rightfully earned. Everything said about him is completely true. So how has Lucanis not heard of this yet?

He reflects on the moments spent in the Cantori Diamond as Rook, Teia, Viago, and Lucanis worked to free Treviso from the Antaam’s grip. Were there stolen glances that Lucanis wasn’t privy to? Is this why Viago seemed more offended than the others when Rook’s slip-up was mentioned? How long has this been going on? 

Can he join?

Lucanis cringes at the last thought, his sleep deprived state allowing him to think things he otherwise wouldn’t dare to. He’s interrupted again when he hears a wet pop, and Lucanis can’t help but take a step closer to the door. “Please.” Rook moans, only to be silenced again by a growl from Viago. 

“Begging is a good look on you.” Viago says. Lucanis can hear his tip hit the back of Rook’s throat as she gags. The embarrassment that sat in Lucanis’ stomach has now dropped lower, melting into ashamed arousal. “You haven’t earned it yet, though.” Lucanis knows he should turn around right now and head back to the pantry, before he hears even more sounds he’ll never erase from his head. But as he takes another step towards Rook’s room, he’s palming himself through his pants and almost groans at the unreleased tension.

Lucanis has only dreamed about this situation, although never with the two objects of his desires together. He can’t decide if he’ll want to be in Rook’s position or Viago’s when he recalls this in private later. There’s the added layer of jealousy, too; that the two people he’s only ever flirted with can somehow fuck each other so easily, but not him. Is that what he wants from them? A quick fuck, one without feelings? Is that what they’re doing right now, or is it something more? A stolen moment between two lovers or two friends relieving stress?

Viago lets Rook up for air once again. “Viago, please…” Rook trails off, moaning as she takes Viago into her mouth again. Lucanis is a foot away from the door now, his cheeks burning hot as he presses against the wall, not daring to break the final barrier of actually looking inside and searing the visual component of this encounter into his head.

Viago hums in thought. “You look so beautiful like this. On your knees, crying with your lips around me.” Another growl, and Lucanis can discern that Viago has grabbed Rook by the hair and pulled her off. “Have you learned your lesson?” Lucanis can’t remember when he lowered his pants, but now his cock is firm within his grasp.

“Yes, sir. I have.”

Sir? Lucanis twitches at the title. His brows knit together in concentration as Viago chuckles. “Good girl.” Lucanis twitches again. “On the bed, on your knees.” 

This is a side of Viago that Lucanis can’t even fathom exists. Viago usually has the disposition of a wet cat: a bit scary from afar, but pathetic and charming in his own way once you get close enough. Lucanis always thought that the man was extremely talented in what he did, but similar to himself in that they usually killed targets first to avoid having to turn on their lacking charms. He loses his train of thought when he hears Viago’s whispers meant only for Rook’s ears. Clearly, Lucanis had read the man very wrong.

He’ll watch just this once. One time will be enough to sustain him for the rest of his days. He rationalizes it by noting that two crows should know to at least close the door if they don’t want to be interrupted. He’s walked by Rook’s door dozens of times in the hopes she’s standing outside only to find it closed. She knows how to close doors, right?

LOOK. Spite whispers in the back of Lucanis’ mind. He smears the pre cum leaking from his tip onto his palm, snarling at Spite’s interference. He hears a smack from inside Rook’s room and she whimpers.

LOOK!

Lucanis tears his eyes open and moves to occupy the small opening from the door. As he focuses his sight despite the dim lighting, he finds Viago and Rook on the small chaise in the middle of the room. Viago has one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around her neck, pulling Rook up against his chest. Lucanis examines Viago’s bare fingers, the first time he’s seen them without a pair of gloves on. They’re long, and covered in slick. Lucanis is unsure whose. His hair, which is usually brushed back neatly, has curled back to the look Viago had in his younger days, the thick black strands slightly stuck to his forehead with sweat. 

Rook whines as Viago rubs her clit with his tip, which earns her another slap to her ass. Her breasts are covered in purple splotches, some peeking through Viago’s hand on her neck. She’s also sweaty, but the sweat is mixed with her tears, her makeup running down her face and leaving black streaks in their wake. Viago’s grip tightens, his fingers pressing against her windpipe as he begins to slowly stretch her cunt. 

If this was the last thing Lucanis ever saw, he could die happy.

Lucanis matches his strokes with Viago’s pace which is achingly slow. He pulls all the way out, stops for a moment, then takes his time filling Rook up again. She covers her mouth with her hands as her moans increase in volume, but Viago is quick to tut at this. “Let them hear you.” He’s the perfect picture of control, the only indication of his impending orgasm being how his stomach tightens whenever he’s fully inside of her.

“What about–”

“Lucanis?” Viago draws out the assassin’s name as he moves the hand that occupied Rook’s hip to her clitoris, beginning to rub small circles around the bundle of nerves. She yelps, her eyes rolling back into her head in pleasure. Lucanis almost retreats at the mention of his name, but can’t bring himself to as his own hips buck into his hand. “I bet you’d like it if he watched us, wouldn’t you?” Rook nods, but Viago stops completely and begins to pull out. “Use your words.”

She whines at the sudden lack of movement, her eyes welling with tears again. “Y-yes, I would. Sir.” Viago nods approvingly, and resumes his agonizing pace. Lucanis’ heavy stare flits back and forth between the two, watching as Rook’s face contorts just so as Viago hits a spot inside her only he is aware of, his hips snapping against her. Viago is relentless; his middle and ring finger making Rook gush around him even as she begins to shake and attempt to swat his hand away. “It’s too much, Viago–”

“You can take it.” Viago’s other hand lets go of Rook’s neck, making her lean against him for support. He pinches her nipple and rolls it between his fingertips. “Just a bit longer till we can come together. You want that, right?” Rook incoherently babbles, nodding her head back against Viago’s shoulder while he smiles. “Of course you do.” 

Lucanis surmises that they’ve been at this for hours, at least. The way Rook is practically fucked out of her mind, tears streaming down her face while Viago pleasures her, has Lucanis’ thighs flexing in anticipation of his own orgasm. Viago looks down at his fingers that seem to be moving with a mind of their own and bites his lip, emitting a low groan into the crook of Rook’s neck while he kisses the bruised bite marks. Lucanis’ speed picks up along with Viago’s, both men beginning to lose control.

When Lucanis returns his attention to Rook, he gasps when he sees her eyes blown out wide looking back at him. 

The arousal that teetered into release flips into shame, his perverted viewing caught by the one woman he tried to keep away. He refuses to look or run away, at least giving her the grace of facing the consequences of his intrusion head on. Viago is blissfully unaware, completely lost in the crushing warmth of Rook’s insides. Rook is silent for one moment, her half-lidded stare holding Lucanis’ as Viago pistons away.

Then, she smiles, raises an arm to grab Viago’s hair, and tugs.

Viago growls, making Lucanis’ cock jump on its own. Rook nods, slight enough so Viago won’t notice, but perceptible enough that Lucanis’ heart flips when he starts touching himself again with Rook’s approval. “You are impossible.” Viago slaps Rook’s clit, making her jump and pull on his hair again.

“Please, Viago–” The way she whines makes Lucanis and Viago shake their heads at the same time, trying to put off their orgasms for a bit longer.

“Say my name one more time, and I swear to the Maker I will breed you till you see stars.” Lucanis goes slack jawed. Viago’s rhythm becomes erratic as he finally, finally, reaches his release. Rook’s entire body is shaking, and she draws blood from her bottom lip as she bites down.

“Viago–” She doesn’t even finish her sentence, the fifth talon moving his hand to her stomach as he adds pressure underneath her navel. It’s enough to put the trio all over the edge at the same time. 

Lucanis spills into his hand, his hips rutting into the air as he lifts his shirt over his abdomen to avoid a mess. It takes everything in him not to join the pair in their cacophony of moans, Viago especially as he twitches deep inside of Rook, making sure not a drop of his cum drips out of her. Rook’s thighs press in as her own orgasm rushes over her, Viago’s fingers slowly bringing Rook down from the edge. When the drum of his blood pumping finally subsides, Lucanis can hear the pair once again.

Viago still has not pulled out, but moves both hands to Rook’s waist and slowly leans her down, allowing her to rest her head against the back of the chaise. He supports her weight fully, his arms flexing as he holds her up, and Viago bends down momentarily to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Good job.” He murmurs against her skin, his usual stoic disposition returning and becoming the man that Lucanis thought he was. Rook lazily opens one eye towards the door, and has to hide a smile when she sees that Lucanis is still watching them. 

Viago’s arms wrap around Rook’s stomach, and she giggles. “You should know by now that that tickles.” Viago doesn’t move, his beard and mustache rubbing against Rook’s back. “And that does too! I’m very sensitive right now, you know.” Viago relents and pulls out, earning a content sigh from Rook as she lays down, out of Lucanis’ view. He moves to Rook’s bedside table, still naked, and retrieves a towel. They’ve done this before. They’ve done this before, here.

“And whose fault is that?” Viago wipes some of the sweat away from his forehead and then Rook’s. Here, in the perceived privacy, his shoulders drop some of the tension he seems to be holding all the time. He smiles more easily as he banters with Rook, and doesn’t get dressed immediately as he sits down on the cushions near Rook’s feet and lazily drapes an arm over the couch. Lucanis hears Rook groan and sees her stretch her arms out, then her legs, moving them over Viago’s thighs. “Have you heard of a thing called personal space?” Viago asks.

Lucanis zips his pants up and slowly steps away, careful to not alert Viago of his presence. “You just came inside me! You don’t get to complain about me violating your personal space!” The last thing Lucanis hears before he escapes back to the library, and then to the pantry, is a shared laugh between the crow and the talon.

The morning after, Lucanis leans over his breakfast and stirs his coffee absentmindedly. His mind keeps flashing back to Viago and Rook. How they looked so good together. How their bodies fit together perfectly, how Lucanis could fit in between.

“Lucanis?” The assassin jumps and drops the spoon he was holding. Bellara is quick to pick the utensil up for him and wipe it on her pants.  “Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have– You seemed so–��� 

“It’s alright, Bellara. Just tired.” He waves her concerns away, trying his best to remain in this moment and not last night’s.

“Right, well, Rook needs us in Treviso today.” Lucanis’ flexes his hands, his cheeks flushing pink. “Andarateia– Sorry, Teia, and Viago found a lead about the gaatlok. Could be our big break up against the Antaam!” Bellara is excited at the new discovery, but dread floods Lucanis' veins at having to face Viago knowing what his dick looks like. How can he look at Rook and not see how her tits bounced with every thrust from Viago? He goes through the motions of getting ready, grabbing his daggers and then his back-up daggers, but his mind is somewhere else: back in Rook’s room.

When Bellara and Lucanis walk down to the Eluvian Room, Rook is already there, stretching her limbs in common Crow warm up exercises. She waves to both of them, refusing to stop her mission preparations for anything. “You alright, Rook? Did you hurt yourself?” Bellara asks, offering a hand to help Rook stand.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Rook accepts Bellara’s offer, who yanks the crow up off the floor. “Neck’s just a bit sore.” Lucanis coughs in surprise, and both women look at him. He can’t make eye contact with either of them.

“Sorry, it’s just…I had some almonds earlier.” Bellara raises an eyebrow.

“...That’s nice!” She responds, and Lucanis almost kicks himself for making the situation somehow more awkward.

Once they’re in Treviso, each step further into the Cantori Diamond feels heavier and heavier. Bellara and Rook chat away, as they’re used to Lucanis’ silent brooding at this point, but only one of them is clued into exactly what he’s brooding over. “Rook! Lucanis!” Teia hugs the both of them once they’re standing in front of the Seventh Talon. “Thank you for coming.” Lucanis blinks and he relives the moment he came the same time they did.

“You’re late.” Viago snips, and Rook scoffs.

“If you were able to do this without us, you would’ve done it already.” Viago crosses his arms and sneers while Teia sighs and presses her fingers to her temples, a headache already coming on from these two.

“Right, because your reputation for finishing jobs precedes you.” Viago says, making Rook throw her hands up. Bellara laughs behind her hand, even being polite enough to turn away from the group. Lucanis watches them bicker, Teia even getting involved at one point to step in between them, and wonders how they can be so normal. How can their hearts not sing whenever they see each other after being so vulnerable?

“Please, ladies, let’s get to the job!” Teia exclaims, pushing them away from each other. It’s enough to pause their jabbering for now, and the group moves to the table to discuss the finer details of the talons’ plan. Rook leans in over Viago’s shoulder to look at the map. He points to a particular corner of the Drowned District, his gloved index finger tapping the parchment. Lucanis looks at Viago but doesn’t see anything more behind his usual harsh demeanor. Lucanis’ brow knits in confusion, considering the possibility that perhaps what happened last night was a dream.

But then, he spots it: a purple splotch peeking underneath Rook’s collar. The armor wasn’t high enough to hide everything. The bite mark is especially visible when Rook tilts her head. When Lucanis watches Viago, his eyes are unflinching, immovable as Rook speaks.

The slightest glance. Viago’s gaze roves down to Rook’s collar too.

And his lips quirk into the smallest smile.

Lucanis gasps, grabbing the attention of everyone at the table. Rook, Viago, Teia, and Bellara all turn quickly to him. “Something the matter, Lucanis?” Teia asks. Lucanis stumbles over his words, his palms quickly turning wet under the scrutiny of everyone. Rook’s stare is even when he attempts to answer. It’s almost a challenge, a way to say, “Did you see what you think you saw?���. Viago squints, studying Lucanis and how nervous the man suddenly is.

“Well, um…” Lucanis thinks for a moment. “If we’re heading to the Drowned District, we have to be careful of the infrastructure. Detonating the gaatlok could be detrimental to the people living there.” Teia raises an eyebrow while Viago tilts his head and purses his lips. “Load bearing walls and such.” There’s a moment of silence as everyone considers what Lucanis has graciously added to the conversation.

“I think Lucanis is right.” Rook says, turning the table’s attention back to her. “We don’t want the Butcher to blame anything that might happen on the Crows instead of the Antaam. Could lose us valuable support amongst the people.” It’s a good enough excuse that everyone moves on, and Lucanis lets go of the breath he was holding. When he’s brave enough to rejoin the conversation, he finds that Rook is already looking at him. She winks.

After the mission they return back to the Cantori Diamond to debrief. Rook has a small scrape on her cheek from when a Venatori member managed to move in close enough on her flank before Lucanis could stop him. It’s just a flesh wound that’ll heal with time, but Viago sighs as soon as he sees her anyway. “You got hit.” He deadpans.

“Your observation skills continue to impress me.” Rook says. “Yes, I got hit. It was fine, Lucanis took care of him. Look at how great I am!” She puts her arms out and spins, making Teia laugh. Viago remains unconvinced; He steps forward and grips Rook on the chin, turning her face to get a better look at the cut. He hums, his stature towering over the other crow when they’re this close.

His crow.

“De Riva crows don’t get hit. Dagger, or arrow?” Viago asks Rook. Teia pulls Bellara aside to talk more about the mission. Lucanis can’t peel his eyes away from the pair.

“Dagger. You know how the Venatori are.” Rook responds, almost leaning into his touch.

“I do. You should– need to be more careful.” Viago examines the wound closely. “They like to move in close like that so they can use blood magic on you.”

“I know.” Rook huffs. Viago pulls her face straight on so that way she has no choice but to make eye contact with him.

“Do you?” Viago hisses. Lucanis shifts, hoping his armor is thick enough to keep his erection hidden. Rook glances at Lucanis, then smiles up at Viago.

“Don’t worry. I have the Demon of Vyrantium at my side, right Lucanis?” Viago also looks at the master assassin, and drops Rook’s chin. Lucanis laughs uncomfortably at the heat radiating from them.

“You’re going to kill me.” Is all Lucanis says. He isn’t sure who he’s talking to.

Back at The Lighthouse, Lucanis adds some items to the grocery list. The dinner table is completely empty, tonight’s meal leaving most people too full and tired to socialize like they usually do. The dim light from the candles lulls Lucanis, whose eyes close wearily. When he blinks them back open, it feels as though no time has passed, but then he looks at the note.

Flour

Cocoa

Pastina

Tomato

rookrookrookrookrookROOK

vvvvvvviago TOGETHER

inbetweeninbetweeninbetween

Lucanis angrily crumbles the note up and stuffs it into his pocket. “Get out of my head.” He grumbles, and although there’s no response, Lucanis swears he can hear the demon laugh. He heads into the pantry for a moment of attempted privacy, leaning his forehead against the wood once the door is closed. He shuts his eyes, breathing in the scent of aged oak and lingering spices.

“For an assassin, you’re easy to sneak up on.” He jumps and quickly turns.

Rook sits at his desk, her feet resting on the bottom of the chair while she’s firmly planted on the table top. 

“Most people expect visitors from outside their bedroom, not inside.” Lucanis says, heading to his cot and sitting down, facing Rook.

“You’re not most people, though.” Rook responds, which makes Lucanis blanche in surprise. “Also, for an assassin, you lack subtlety.” Lucanis averts his gaze to anywhere in the room but Rook. She laughs, making Lucanis smile despite himself. He loves how her laugh rings clearly, unabashed in her joy. “Ask your questions. I know you have them.”

Lucanis sighs, leaning back against his bed and resting his head on the soft sheets. “So many.” Is his first response. Rook hums, much like Viago does, in acknowledgement. “Does Teia know?” Is his second.

“I’m not privy to what Viago shares with Teia about his life when they’re not together.” Rook chooses her words carefully. “But I haven’t had any conversations with her about our arrangement.”

“So Teia and him aren’t together right now?”

Rook laughs. “No, not right now. Though, you know them. That can change at any given moment.” Lucanis is quiet, his chest rising and falling steadily. He likes that Rook doesn’t attempt to fill silences.

“If they were together–”

“No. It’s one of our rules.” At this, Lucanis raises his head to look at Rook. “We have rules. For when we’re allowed to…” She waves her hand around. “If either of us are in a relationship it doesn’t happen.”

“It being…?”

“Sex, Lucanis.” Rook laughs as he looks away. “It might surprise you, but Viago and I do enjoy each other’s company without the added benefit of sex.” He chortles, which makes Rook roll her eyes.

“When did this start?” At this question, Rook looks up to the ceiling as though truly pondering it.

“Well, I had only heard about Viago before he became Fifth Talon. But we first met because of a contract, actually.” Rook cracks her knuckles. “We were on a mission, about six years ago; the client specifically paid for Viago to tag along on the job. And you know him.”

Lucanis nods. “He’s kind of…”

“A stick in the mud?” Rook laughs. “He wanted everything to go well. To prove himself to Caterina. So, we went to Orlais.” Lucanis props himself up on his elbows.

“Did you have to pretend to be a couple? And then everything that was fake turned real?” Rook leans over to shove Lucanis lightly on the shoulder.

“I didn’t know you were a romantic, Lucanis.” She shakes her head. “No, the job was terrible. It was raining the whole way there and back. The weather made for inclement traveling so we were stuck in Orlais for longer than we expected.” Rook rolls her shoulders, as though recalling the job is stressful enough. “And we missed the mark. Several times, actually.” At this, Lucanis laughs so hard his stomach begins to hurt.

“I cannot imagine Viago missing.”

“He can’t either. So, both of us were pretty unhappy. Unhappiness turns to anger, and both of us were way too prideful to admit our own shortcomings, so we became angry at each other.” Rook smiles. “Put two crows who hate each other and are constantly drenched to the bone in the same room for seven weeks…”

“...And they’re bound to have sex.” Lucanis finishes the thought. 

“Exactly. It became an outlet. And then, when we got back to Antiva…” Rook shrugs. “It became routine. Viago likes his sex in a very, very particular way. There’s not a lot of people who are willing to do what he asks.”

“May I ask…” Lucanis blushes. “How does Viago like his sex? Because it seemed…” Lucanis stops himself, realizing that they now have to talk about that night. “Focused.” Rook nods. 

“Viago is very tightly bound. About everything, even simple pleasures. Like wine and art.” She gets up to pace as she talks. “He desires control over every single aspect of his life. He usually doesn’t get it, because being an assassin means that he has control over everything except his own life. I desire to let go. To trust someone enough to completely dominate me for one night and come out okay. It’s a reciprocal relationship.” Lucanis rubs his beard.

“So I’m assuming the bickering is part of that?” Rook furrows her brow in thought.

“Yes, and no. We bicker because I think it’s funny to wind him up, and he thinks he’s allowed to say everything that comes into his head.” Rook seems to recall something and blushes. “But winding him up, making him mad and pressing his buttons, that is part of it.” 

Rook stops to stand in front of Lucanis. “Is that what he meant by ‘learning your lesson’?” Lucanis seems too shy to even speak the words. She just nods, with a wry smile. “I see. Well.” He rubs his hands together awkwardly. “Thank you for being honest.”

Neither of them speak at first. When Lucanis looks up, he finds Rook already looking at him. She uses her calf to bump his legs apart, spreading them wide and allowing her to take a step closer to him. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Her voice goes low, acknowledging the tension that's been here since they started chatting.

“I–I want to…” Lucanis seems to form several sentences all at the same time. Instead, he breaks the barrier between the two of them and plants both hands on Rook’s hips, looking up at her. “There’s so many things I want to say.” Rook nods, taking the opportunity to rake her fingers through his hair. The same way she did with Viago.

“Maybe it’s my turn for questions?” Lucanis nods eagerly, grateful that she understands his inability to explain himself. “Did you like what you saw last night?” Lucanis groans, leaning forward to press his forehead against Rook’s abdomen.

“Maker, yes.” 

“Did you like me, or Viago?” Lucanis sucks in a breath. He closes his eyes, his fear of Rook realizing his silly little crushes. Plural. “...Did you like both of us?” All he can do is nod. Rook laughs, but doesn’t move away. “I understand. Watching attractive people have sex can do that.” Another beat of silence, both of them listening to the gentle waves of the surrounding fade.

“Did you want to join?” The question barely comes out as a whisper but it’s enough to make Lucanis go crazy. His loins tighten from the sexual line of questioning, remembering every single moment where he wondered how things would go if he were there. “I figured. Viago told me about the time you sent him a dagger. Both of you are incapable of reading inbetween the lines, it seems.” Lucanis blushes, hard. “I have a proposal for you.” At this, his grip on her hips becomes stronger in anticipation.

“Viago will probably come by again in a couple days. You can stop by, see how things go. See if there’s anything you’re interested in.” Rook is quick to add on, “But no pressure, though. Do whatever you feel comfortable with, I don’t want you to–”

“Would you like me there? If I…stopped by?” Lucanis slides his hands up, roaming over Rook’s back. She sighs listlessly, leaning into his touch. Lucanis’ hands are different from Viago’s; rough calluses, fingernails bitten raw, his touch yearning instead of easy. It makes Rook’s heart hiccup, wondering how long he wanted, needed something like this.

“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” She says matter-of-factly. It takes a large amount of effort, but she untangles herself from him. “Let me talk to Viago. I can’t imagine he’d have any reservations.” She leans down and plants a chaste kiss onto Lucanis’ temple. When she turns to leave, Lucanis grabs her hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the knuckles he saw her kill with just a few hours ago.

“I await your call.”

Four days later, Lucanis paces around the library. It’s late, but time doesn’t mean much to him these days. He glances over at the charcuterie board he’s made, the wooden cutting board covered with brie, goat cheese, fontina, chocolate, and crackers. He looks up, towards Rook’s room, and his heart starts racing again like it did a few days ago. Is he really doing this? He could just leave, head back to the pantry, and forget this ever happened. Rook and Viago would continue on normally, like nothing ever happened, because they’re professionals. Lucanis supposed he was too, before all this. 

He picks up the tray and goes up the stairs, taking his time approaching Rook’s door to calm his nerves. When he looks down the hallway, he sees that she’s closed it this time. “Now they make me knock.” He sneers. As he gets closer, he can hear snippets of the conversation happening inside.

“I just think that…”

“Well, you usually…”

“...my fault?...”

Lucanis takes a slow breath out, completely emptying his lungs. This is real.

He knocks twice, a bit softly, and all conversation inside ceases. There’s some moving around, and a giggle that definitely belongs to Rook because Lucanis doesn’t think Viago has it in him to giggle before someone comes and opens the door. Lucanis thought Rook would have the grace to open the door herself.

She does not.

Viago’s in his casual wear, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he holds the door open at the top of the frame with one hand. “Lucanis.” He remarks, completely stone faced. Neither of the men say anything, but this close, Lucanis can smell Viago’s cologne. It’s more woody than Lucanis was expecting, with a lingering undertone of vanilla. 

“Viago.” Lucanis says. He holds up the charcuterie board, and Viago quirks an eyebrow. “I brought food.”

“I can see that.” The other man responds. Maker, this is awkward.

“Lucanis!” Rook remarks from inside the room, granting him entry despite Viago’s supposed disinterest. Did he not want him here?

“I brought food.” Lucanis repeats, and Rook smiles warmly. The chaise has a multitude of blankets spilling over it, and some pillows are on the floor too. The aquarium casts a deep blue light over everything, making Viago’s eyes seem black. Viago examines the board as Lucanis sets it down onto Rook’s table, next to his wine.

“Is that brie? And goat cheese?” The taller man questions. Lucanis shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Those pair well with pinot noir.” Viago adds, and again Lucanis shrugs.

“Rook mentioned it was your favorite.” She watches the two men talk with interest. Viago seems genuinely taken aback, picking up a cut of chocolate and brie, and then smelling it. Once he realizes that the heir apparent to First Talon gains nothing by poisoning him, he takes a bite.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Dellamorte?” Viago suddenly asks. Lucanis blushes, and looks away. He takes a moment to steel himself.

“That depends on if it’s working or not.” If he wanted, Lucanis could be suave. Perhaps he chooses not to. Viago doesn’t answer, but pours Lucanis a glass of wine and sits down on the floor near Rook. He motions to a cushion in between them.

“We were gossiping about other crows.” This is Lucanis’ last chance to leave and still have some semblance of normalcy with the two of them. He glances between them, noting how Viago loosens his collar and leans back on one arm. Rook’s smile is wide as she speaks to them, motioning excitedly at the latest news she’s heard about her fellow crows.

Lucanis cracks his neck, then sits down. He pretends not to notice how Rook’s smile widens. “Who were we talking about?” He takes a sip of wine, the warmth spreading down from his mouth all the way to his stomach. It’s dry, but the hints of fruit and acidity make up for it.

“Illario.” Viago grumbles, gesturing towards Rook. “She was recalling how they actually did meet once before, she just didn’t remember.” Lucanis turns towards Rook, who looks a bit bashful.

“You’ve met Illario?”

“Only once.” She responds, swirling her glass and taking a bite of cheese. “It was at a party, the Arainai one a decade ago. He looked so different!” She exclaims, and Lucanis chuckles.

“I believe that’s when he was curling his hair, correct?” Rook gasps and nods.

“Yes! Maker, it was awful. And he used so much product, I could smell him from a mile away. Everyone still followed him around, though.”

“Well, Illario has that effect on people.” Viago chimes in, leaning closer in towards Lucanis so that way he can fully take part in the conversation. “He could walk around in a potato sack and still get attention.” Rook laughs, snorting. 

“Viago, did you not use the same products in your hair?” Lucanis suddenly asks. Viago closes his eyes, his brow furrowing at Lucanis being able to recall something about him he’s pretty sure everyone else has forgotten.

“You did! I remember because it would take you hours to get ready when we were in Orlais!” The Orlais mission. Where this all began. Lucanis coughs as he tries to get the image of Viago and Rook together out of his head.

“My curls are natural.” Viago holds up a finger to both of them. “Illario faked them. It’s different.” Rook giggles so hard that she falls back onto the pile of blankets as Viago comes up with another defense. He’s passionate as he argues, gesturing wildly but never forgetting about the wine nor how he needs to take more sips of it. 

“If your curls are natural, then how come your hair is straight right now?” Rook asks, and Viago groans, bringing a hand to his forehead.

“Keeping it neat is good for appearances. As Fifth Talon, I can’t afford to appear messy.” Rook nods, but she remains unconvinced. 

“It is natural.” Lucanis chimes in, making Viago and Rook turn to him. Viago waves in Lucanis’ direction, moving in closer as he gets more and more heated.

“Well, I’ll believe Lucanis. But not you.” She sits up, propping herself up with one arm and leaning on her side.

“His hair gets curly when he sweats.” Lucanis adds, and this makes Viago pause in the middle of a bite. Rook says nothing, but smirks into her wine glass as the cogs churn in Viago’s head. “Not that I’m only looking at you when you sweat, it’s just–Maker, are we arguing about Viago’s hair?” Rook’s smile is easy, here. Perhaps with these two she can pretend to be just a crow, and not the leader of their small pack against the world.

“It’s a good head of hair.” Rook whispers, sitting up and moving closer to the men. There’s a distinct shift in the air, one that makes Lucanis put his wine glass down and pull away at his vest that suddenly feels too tight. Viago doesn’t initially respond, only taking another bite of cheese. She gasps. “Don’t I get a compliment?” It’s mocking him, but Viago allows himself to fall into the trap; he chuckles.

“What would you like to hear?” Viago asks, tilting his head and teasing her. Lucanis is a spectator to this dance they do, the push and pull of “will they, won’t they”. 

“Hmm…” Rook dramatically thinks, tapping her chin. “Don’t you think I’m funny?”

“Only when I’m laughing at you.”

Rook pouts. “Well, what about my charm?” 

Viago laughs. “That was actually funny.” 

Lucanis can’t help but smile at how Rook crawls even closer, shrinking the distance between the trio. “Surely you must like something about me.” Lucanis is completely enamored with her. He likes everything about Rook, but he’s not the one answering the question. When he looks at Viago, he’s shocked to find his expression has completely changed from when he first entered the room. His eyes are full of spark, his smile sideways as he carefully considers Rook’s flirting. Somewhere along the way, he’s even unbuttoned the top of his shirt, exposing a scant amount of chest hair that makes Lucanis’ stomach do somersaults. 

Viago moves a hand onto Rook’s thigh and pulls her closer, onto his lap. “I like your collarbones.” He finally answers. Rook rolls her eyes, but doesn’t move away as Viago’s hand slips under her shirt to expose his aforementioned favorite part of Rook. He ghosts his hand over her skin, and both of them notice how Rook shivers underneath his touch. “Lucanis, what is your favorite part of Rook?” 

An invitation to join. Lucanis seriously considers the question for a moment, but realizes Viago is giving him an in. He sits up and crawls behind Rook, between Viago’s legs. “I like her neck.” He simply answers, and Viago hums, nodding. Lucanis presses his palms into Rook’s trapezius muscles, noticing how she relaxes under the pressure and leans back into him.

“I’ve noticed.” Viago responds, smiling at how Lucanis gets nervous once he recalls their last visit to the Cantori Diamond. “It seems you have a knack for observation, Lucanis.” Viago leans forward, planting a kiss onto Rook’s chest, looking up to watch how her brows knit just so when his lips touch her. His eyes fall to Lucanis, pupils blown wide and hands massaging Rook. Viago pulls back, making her whine from the sudden cold. “Our safeword is saffron. Use it when you need to.” Viago says, and Lucanis nods. “Good. Now kiss.” He doesn’t ask, he commands.

Rook turns to look over her shoulder at Lucanis. Her lips are pursed and glossy, her shirt falling off of one shoulder. Lucanis has to hold himself back from absolutely devouring her completely. He hesitates, unsure what to do with his hands, but settles for cradling Rook’s face. He presses his lips to her’s, gently like they have all the time in the world. Rook is not surprised by Lucanis’ softness, allowing him to lead and take his time doing whatever he wants to do. Viago intently watches, studying how Lucanis seems to shake a little when Rook places a hand on his arm. He can feel Rook’s core heating up in his lap, how her hips buck whenever Viago shifts underneath her and his erection rubs against her thigh. 

Viago unexpectedly moves his hands to Rook’s waist, rubbing affectionately and steadying her, making her moan into Lucanis’ kiss; it’s enough to completely break him. He removes his hands only for a moment to rip off his vest, but his lips never leave her’s. Rook takes a risk, and opens her mouth slightly allowing Lucanis in. He accepts the offer, fervently and needily, their tongues moving with each other and becoming more desperate by the second. Without opening her eyes, Rook uses her free hand to grab Viago by the shirt and pull him up, mere inches away from Lucanis’ face. Rook, sandwiched between the two men, tilts her head away from them. “Your turn.” Her voice is hoarse. Lucanis looks at Viago, whose harsh stare stokes the fire inside him even more. When his brown, doe eyes flick between Viago’s lips and hard glare, unable to be the one who makes the first move, Viago shakes his head before diving in.

Viago kisses like it might be his last night alive. He takes instead of gives, keeping one hand on Rook’s waist and moving the other to the back of Lucanis’ neck to pull him closer. One of them groans, Rook isn’t sure who, but it’s enough to make her roll her hips against Viago and her backside against Lucanis. Lucanis shudders when Viago presses his tongue into his mouth, unapologetic in getting what he wants. Rook unbuttons Viago’s shirt for him, her hands roving over his hard chest as he breathes in Lucanis like he’s his only source of air. When they break apart, it’s only so Lucanis can do the same, exposing his abdomen and how the hair that covers his muscles travels down, to his happy trail, and then disappears under his trousers. 

Viago and Rook take the opportunity to get reacquainted with each other, her arms stretching over his shoulders as he turns his attention to her. Their kiss is immediately all passion, tongue, and teeth; Rook even bites his lip, making Viago’s brow furrow. Lucanis watches as Rook wraps her legs around Viago’s waist, how his large hands grab onto her back. He begins to palm himself through his pants, his thighs tightening from the slight pressure. Viago peels Rook’s shirt off, exposing her naked chest, and he tilts his head, frowning. “No bra?” Rook shrugs.

“I always get what I want.” When she looks at Lucanis, her smile is deadly. “Stand up. Both of you.” Viago huffs, not used to being the one that takes orders, but obliges her. Rook kneels in front of them and uses both hands to stroke their clothed erections, making them tense. Viago takes her hand off of him, and whips his belt off, shimmying out of his pants and briefs in one fell swoop. He’s already leaking pre-cum, his tip red from the lack of stimulation.

“Stop teasing.” He tangles his hand into Rook’s hair, pulling her face towards his cock. Viago uses his hand to push her back and forth, occasionally making Rook gag as he hits the back of her throat. Lucanis slowly strips, distracted by the two of them completely. Once he’s naked, he guides Rook’s hand to him, gasping as she grips onto him. While she swirls her tongue around Viago, she pumps her hand over Lucanis, using her thumb to swipe over his tip occasionally just so she can hear how he whines. Viago steals a glance over at Lucanis, watching how his stomach flexes with every stroke from Rook. To his credit, he allows Rook to come up for air. 

She turns her attention to Lucanis, raising her eyes to his as she slowly takes him entirely into her mouth. He stretches one hand behind his head, every muscle in his arm contorting. He notices how Viago hisses in pleasure at this, and breathlessly laughs. “Are you a fan of my arms, Viago?” Rook flattens her tongue, licking a long strip from Lucanis’ balls to his tip. 

“I’m a fan of watching a beautiful woman go down on a beautiful man. The muscles are a nice side benefit.” Lucanis can’t deny that he blushes at the compliment, still shy in spite of his current station. He uses his other hand to brush Rook’s hair out of her face, holding the few strands that stick back with a loose grip. Rook nods, out of appreciation or arousal Lucanis can’t tell. With a satisfied sigh, she pulls away, Lucanis grunting at the sudden lack of warmth. But ever the gentleman, he offers a strong grip when Rook decides to stand. Wordlessly, she moves past the men and sits on the small bed, slipping out of her pajama pants along the way.

She spreads her legs, using her index and middle finger to spread her lips too, giving them a full view of their very near future. Lucanis bites his knuckles to stifle the noise that escapes him. “I want to watch Lucanis try.” She dips a finger in between her folds, bucking at the stimulation. 

Lucanis aims to please; he turns to Viago and gets on his knees, practically drooling at his length. “He can certainly try.” Viago drawls, running his fingers through Lucanis’ mullet. “I won’t play nice, though.” Viago grabs himself and pumps a couple times. “Open.” He commands. Lucanis tentatively agrees, sticking his tongue out; Viago slaps his tip in Lucanis’ mouth, smearing pre-cum onto his lips. He thrusts shallowly into Lucanis’ mouth, allowing him to adjust to his size. Lucanis doesn’t think he’s ever been as hard as he is right now, but knowing Viago he denies himself the pleasure of masturbation. Instead, he rests his arms on his thighs, arching his back for a better angle. 

“He follows instructions well.” Viago pulls Lucanis’ head back, forcing him to look up at the man. Lucanis chokes at the new angle, Viago hitting the top of his throat and momentarily cutting off his air. “Just a bit longer. You can do that, right?” Lucanis nods eagerly, spit dripping out of his mouth and tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Good boy.” 

Rook isn’t even touching herself anymore, just enjoying the show these two are putting on. She watches in awe as Lucanic copies her, circling Viago’s tip with his tongue and even flicking the sensitive slit. Viago’s stomach clenches, twitching into Lucanis’ mouth. “Just like that–doing such a good job.”

“You know, I think you’re nicer to him than me.” Viago laughs at Rook’s remark, sliding an eye open to the woman on the couch.

“Because I don’t have to worry about Lucanis the moment he leaves Treviso.” Rook stands, moving behind Viago to try and gain some semblance of his point of view. She slides her hands over his abs, tickling him as they settle where his thighs and stomach meet. The touch makes Viago thrust harshly into Lucanis’ mouth.

“You worry about me?” Rook murmurs against his skin, using one hand to join Lucanis in pleasing Viago. She grips the base of his arousal, lewdly spitting onto her palm and rubbing, occasionally dipping her fingers underneath to tease him. The added help allows Lucanis to focus on Viago’s head, where he’s the most sensitive. Viago’s jaw clenches at the sensation, his hands tangled in Lucanis’ hair flexing with every move from the man beneath him and the woman behind him.

“In my own way.” Viago admits, rolling his eyes at how he can feel Rook smile against him. “If you actually completed any contracts, I wouldn’t have to–” He falters when Rook slaps his tip against Lucanis’ tongue the way he did. 

“You talk too much.” Rook lets go of Viago, moving to stand over Lucanis as well. He glances up at Rook, his eyes grazing over her naked form so he can remember each curve and dip. He’s unsure if this will happen again, if Rook would ever want him without the added benefit of Viago. Would she give this up just to have him, entirely and by himself? He moves without warning, shifting his body to kneel in front of Rook instead, resting his chin against her and bringing a hand up in between her thighs. He dips a finger into her folds carefully, unsure of what exactly to do but hoping that his adoration for her will outshine his lack of experience.

Rook gasps at the sudden touch, her arousal coating Lucanis’ fingers. He’s careful yet curious, watching how her mouth forms an “O” shape at certain places, or how her little gasps turn to moans when he places just the right amount of pressure in other places. He presses his thumb against her clitoris, making Rook keen over and grip his face, pulling his mouth closer to where his fingers dexterously work. “Lucanis, please.” She moans, his name on her lips making his heart soar.

“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” He mumbles, dipping his mouth between her legs and tentatively taking a taste of Rook. It’s everything that he dreamed of, the way her fingers pull his hair, how her legs tremble around his face, how her eyes tighten close when Lucanis laps at her sex. Lucanis grips her thigh and lifts it, draping her leg over his shoulder and granting him further access. Unconsciously, Rook starts grinding on his face, his beard and mustache rubbing against the inside of her thighs softly. He takes a risk and moves his tongue lower to her entrance, teasing the inside of her hole with his mouth. Rook bucks even harder, chanting Lucanis’ name like how he used to chant the Maker’s in the Ossuary.

Lucanis has made the unfortunate mistake of letting Viago out of his sight. He’s unsure when, but the other man has crouched down behind Lucanis on his knees as well. He feels Viago’s long fingers trail the expanse of his back as his mouth latches onto Rook’s clit. Viago’s hands travel lower, then lower, until they’re cupping Lucanis’ ass. Lucanis’ brow furrows in pleasure when Viago spanks him, hard. Viago rubs the red, hand shaped welt beginning to form on Lucanis appreciatively before he moves in between Lucanis’ legs. He spits on his index and middle finger, creating some form of lubrication for Lucanis because Viago knows the man will need it.

With a surprising amount of care, Viago circles Lucanis’ hole. Lucanis isn’t unfamiliar with the sensation, but it’s another thing entirely for Viago to be the one performing this on him. Lucanis arches his back at the pleasure, pushing himself further between Rook’s legs. Viago takes things slowly, only rubbing the rim and adding a very small amount of pressure when Lucanis presses back against his fingers. The stimulation makes Lucanis moan wildly into Rook’s pussy, those vibrations in turn driving Rook even crazier. “Tell me if it’s too much.” Viago whispers, leaning over Lucanis and kissing his shoulder.

With as much restraint as he can muster, Viago pushes a finger inside of Lucanis. It’s enough to make Lucanis pull his mouth away from Rook and start kissing her thighs, the pleasure from both ends almost being too much for him. Viago winces against Lucanis’ skin, the tightness almost being enough to drive Viago to the edge and fuck him right now. Rook pets Lucanis’ hair lovingly, her touch enough to calm him down and focus on how the pain slowly ebbs into just pleasure. Viago works Lucanis’ hole for a while, giving him time to adjust to the idea of being filled, his tongue and teeth lapping at Lucanis’ neck. 

Lucanis returns his attention back to Rook, his passion for learning how to eat her out reignited by Viago’s fingers. The tip of his tongue circles her clitoris, noting how Rook enjoys more attention to the bundle of nerves than she does to any other part of her anatomy. She sighs with relief when Lucanis follows Viago’s guidance and drives a finger inside of Rook, his mouth still working her outer folds. Viago adds another finger inside of Lucanis, stretching the man to prepare him for the inevitable. It takes everything within Lucanis to relax and loosen up, as he expected this would happen, but actually having to practice to take Viago wholly is a different beast.

Viago’s pace quickens, the tension within Lucanis’ loins making his chest heave under the pressure of his impending orgasm. Rook is clearly close too, her hips snapping as she starts to fuck Lucanis’ face to chase her release. Lucanis relents, sticking his tongue out so Rook can use him however she wants. His nose bumps against her clit, and when Lucanis is finally able to open his eyes since Viago started fingering him, the sight of Rook is almost enough to push him completely over the edge. She’s sticky with sweat, her hands steadying Lucanis to give her more leverage and her nails digging into his scalp. Her pupils are blown out from arousal, making her eyes appear almost black. Her attention is entirely on Lucanis, the way he looks underneath her, how he moans partially from his own pleasure but also from her’s. “Lucanis, I’m so close–”

And just like that, Viago pulls out completely from Lucanis. The lack of stimulation makes Lucanis groan in frustration, turning around to glower at Viago. Rook, also denied of her orgasm, glares at Viago. While the looks from both assassins could probably kill most people, Viago is not most people. “Rook, lay down.” He commands, standing up briefly to grab a condom from her bedside table. She obeys him, grabbing a cushion and placing it underneath her lower back. Lucanis has yet to move, and with this view of Rook, he’s not sure he’ll ever want to leave. She instinctively wraps her legs around Lucanis’ hips, their two cores at the same height. He remembers something Viago did when he watched, and lowers his cock to Rook’s heat, slowly rubbing the shaft in between her lips. She squirms, her ankles latching together against Lucanis’ back. He presses his tip to her clit, adding just enough pressure to not completely slip inside, but enough so Rook’s back arches off the ground and her hands fly to Lucanis’ arms.

Viago rejoins them, slotting himself behind Lucanis between his legs while he slides the condom on. Lucanis moves to stand to grab one himself, but Rook stops him. “Don’t worry. Viago’s just a clean freak about certain…” She turns her head to the side. “Holes.” Lucanis blushes with understanding, and continues rutting against Rook. Her nails leave marks in his flesh, and she groans in anger. “Any day now, Viago!” He looks over Lucanis’ shoulder and tuts at Rook.

“So desperate.” Is all he says while removing Lucanis’ hand from his own cock. Viago grabs Lucanis’ member, now rubbing it against Rook. “May I?” He asks, and Lucanis enthusiastically nods. Viago guides Lucanis to Rook’s entrance, sinking Lucanis into her walls at an agonizing pace. Lucanis and Rook moan at the same time, his palms gripping her thighs just to pull her against him even more. 

He’s never felt this before, and although it’s probably obvious to Rook and Viago, they’re gracious enough to not say anything as he bites his bottom lip to hold the moans that threaten to spill out of his mouth and closes his eyes in fear of ejaculating early. It’s hot, hotter than his hand during the late nights spent in the Lighthouse where he’d lay there and think of Rook in this exact position just to get a few hours of rest. And tight, tighter than his collar when he’d look at Viago all those years ago across a banquet table and find his hard stare already fixed onto Lucanis. “Gracias a Hacedor–” The Spanish tumbles out from Lucanis before he realizes, his babbling more incoherent the deeper Viago moves Lucanis inside.

When he’s fully sheathed in Rook, her thighs plush against his, he stills for a moment, his brow knit in an emotion unreadable by Viago or Rook. He breathes in through his nose, out his mouth, Viago letting go of Lucanis and moving back behind him. “Lucanis? You okay?” Rook asks, worried.

“Yes.” Lucanis still has not opened his eyes.

“Are you sure? We can stop–”

“Please, no.” Lucanis whines. Viago chuckles from behind him.

“Is it everything you imagined, Lucanis?” Viago whispers into his ear, his own cock prodding against Lucanis. 

“It’s–” Lucanis gulps, every twitch of his body sending shocks down his spine. “It’s better. So much better.” Rook shifts underneath him, her own arousal mounting along with Lucanis’. 

“Rook usually likes to hear how good she feels.” Viago’s breath against Lucanis’ ear has him spinning, but he’s still grounded enough to catch the obvious hint. Lucanis cautiously opens one eye, then the other, returning to the situation at hand. He looks at where their two bodies meet, his shaft disappearing inside her, and almost comes right there. His eyes roam over Rook’s body, memorizing how she looks underneath him now, how her lips tremble at the smallest movement from Lucanis. Moving a hand to her face, he strokes her cheek with his thumb and brushes some of her hair out of the way. She smiles up at him, small and soft, like even now she’s afraid that he won’t like what he sees. Or maybe it’s that, in this moment, she sees Lucanis for who he is completely and won’t look away, despite everything.

“You’re beautiful.” Lucanis says, ignoring how absolutely wonderful she feels wrapped around him. Rook glances away, tilting her head as though her beauty and grace are something to be ashamed of. Gently, Lucanis uses his thumb to guide her gaze back to his, and he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. “May I?” Lucanis asks for permission to move. Rook nods, her hands moving to his and intertwining their fingers together.

When Lucanis first pulls out and thrusts inside her, he’s almost certain he won’t last longer than two minutes. He’s unsure how he’ll live without this for the rest of his life, Rook’s whines and gasps making his head spin. His hips slap against her’s, trying to find a comfortable rhythm that won’t make him come without warning. “Don’t start without me.” Viago grumbles, lining himself up with Lucanis’ entrance and finding a grip on Lucanis’ hips. Lucanis stills once again, completely inside Rook, knowing that if he was moving while Viago first pressed inside him he would surely release his arousal in mere seconds.

Viago’s tip presses against Lucanis’ hole, and he slowly moves past Lucanis’ rim to his warm insides. Both men let out guttural moans, Lucanis more so, Viago taking as much time as he wants to completely fill the other man. Lucanis’ hands tighten within Rook’s, squeezing her so hard that her fingertips turn red for a moment. “So good, so good for me…” Viago mumbles, beginning to move back and forth inside Lucanis. While Lucanis has more girth than Viago, Viago is long, longer than anything Lucanis has ever put inside himself. His thrusts push and pull Lucanis inside Rook, doing all the work for him, the overstimulation almost too much for Lucanis. 

Viago finds a rhythm more quickly than Lucanis, the experienced man laughing at the state of the one sandwiched between him and Rook. “Can’t take it Lucanis? You can always tap out, you know. Settle for watching, like you usually do.” The challenge is enough to make Lucanis rise to the occasion. He matches Viago’s tempo, the sound of skin slapping skin almost drowning out how all three moan lewdly. Viago takes control, angling his hips up to hit Lucanis’ prostate, attempting to break Lucanis’ concentration on not coming. Lucanis cusses, out of arousal and anger.

“You’re not–not being fair.” He whines, pressing his face into the crook of Rook’s neck and biting down. She gasps, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close.

“Hard to be, when you look like this.” Viago traces Lucanis’ back muscles, watching how they go taunt with every touch. He briefly interlocks his hand with Rook, squeezing her palm in appreciation before increasing his speed. “How does it feel, Lucanis? Use your words.” Lucanis is silent, the only thoughts he’s able to comprehend fully being Rook and Viago, earning another spank from Viago. He pulls up, away from Rook, leaning against Viago’s chest and tilting his head to make eye contact with him.

“Incredible. You–She–Both of you feel incredible.” Viago looks down at Rook, raising an eyebrow, asking if she deems his answer acceptable or not. She smiles and nods, lifting her legs so that her feet rest on Lucanis’ shoulder. Viago is relentless; he kisses Lucanis, his tongue moving in tandem with his and growling when Lucanis moans into his mouth. Rook reaches a hand down between her own legs and stimulates herself, her core tightening in pleasure not only at the sight of Viago and Lucanis but also at how her fingers rub against her clitoris perfectly. Lucanis stutters at the new sensation, breaking the kiss to moan her name. “I’m…I’m close–”

“Just a little longer, Lucanis.” Viago’s teeth are gritted, his own orgasm now imminent as well.

“I can’t–” Lucanis’ hips stutter again. He starts to imagine how it’d feel to completely empty himself inside of Rook, what it looked like when Viago did the same, how he said he’d breed her–

Viago pulls out completely. Lucanis gasps at the sudden feeling of emptiness, how it’s almost painful, and stills inside of Rook. Viago uses his strength to pull Lucanis out of her, and stands over the other two, taking the condom off. Maker, if this is what Rook went through every time she had sex with him, Lucanis could see why she was hell bent on annoying the shit out of him everywhere else. Tears form in the corner of his eyes, his cock being so sensitive from his two denied orgasms that it hurts. “Lucanis, lay down.” If Viago feels bad, he certainly doesn’t let it show. Rook wipes Lucanis’ tears away, sympathetic to his plight, and helps him lay down on the chaise. Viago grabs another condom and slides it on while Rook shifts on top of Lucanis, resting on his upper thigh to give him more time to rest. 

No one speaks, but they move as one, Viago coming up behind Rook much like he did with Lucanis, and picking her hips up so that her core rests on top of Lucanis’ member. She gasps with Lucanis, his hands coming up to grab at anything, eventually finding her thighs. Rook and Viago look down at him, watching as she raises her hips and tantalizingly lowers herself onto Lucanis, his moans increasing in volume as he finds himself back inside of her. Lucanis’ eyes flit between the two of them, how Viago kisses Rook’s neck, how his hands grab her breasts from behind. Viago licks a long strip from her shoulder to her neck, making Rook shudder. 

Maker, this is addicting. They’re addicting.

Rook bounces on top of him, the sounds from where their bodies meet so obscene that Lucanis blushes at the idea of anyone walking by her room at this hour. She leans down and kisses Lucanis, her whimpers against his lips making him grunt in anticipation of his orgasm. He wraps his arms around her and begins to pound up, taking control for the first time since the night began. Rook wails in surprise, biting down onto Lucanis’ lip so hard she draws blood. 

Viago presses against her other entrance, only giving a few seconds of warning before he sheathes himself inside of her completely in one motion. It’s enough to knock the air out of her, her arms tightening around Lucanis’ neck for support as she puts her entire weight onto him. Viago would never admit it, but he’s as sensitive right now as the other two are. The way his cock feels inside Rook, how he can feel Lucanis move in and out of her, how Lucanis’ and Rook’s lips move against each other sloppily is almost enough to make him come right now. He holds onto the last shred of his self control, his hands gripping onto Rook’s ass and spreading her cheeks apart to get a better look. He makes a noise in between a chuckle and a moan, watching how Lucanis’ and his cocks move in tandem with each other, one pulling out while the other pushes in.

“How are you feeling, Viago?” Lucanis mutters, breaking his kiss with Rook briefly to speak. Viago’s eyes roam up the expanse of Rook’s back to Lucanis’ face, where he sees a string of spit connecting the two of them. Lucanis’ lips are red and glossy, his entire face scrunched up in concentration. Viago laughs at Lucanis’ question, the tables now turned on him as he struggles to find the words.

“Never better.” Is his response, each word punctuated by a particularly hard thrust. “Rook? You okay?” He asks. She doesn’t speak, merely groaning in affirmation against Lucanis’ shoulder. Viago decides to let it slide for now. All of his thoughts are dominated by this moment: the sound of their bodies moving against each other, the taste of Rook and Lucanis’ lips against his, the feeling of Rook’s body being able to take both of them. Lucanis seems to be a natural at this, his hands finding Rook’s hips once again and moving them for her when she can’t. She is completely fucked out of her mind, which is exactly where Viago wants her. “Perfect.” He whispers, low enough that even Lucanis can’t hear.

It’s only a few more thrusts from both of them when Rook chimes in. “I’m gonna–” She pauses when Lucanis winces in pleasure, her voice enough to bring him to completion. “–Gonna come.” Viago pushes his hair out of his face before leaning down over the other two. The motion presses his cock inside of her against Lucanis’, whose eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I’m close too.” He stammers out, nerves almost getting the better of him when Viago’s hard stare flicks to him. “Please, Viago…” His heart flips when he remembers how Rook said the exact same thing just a couple days ago. It feels like a lifetime ago now. Viago considers the both of them, his abdomen tensing as he also comes close to the edge. While he could go at this for hours, unfortunately for all three of them they have lives to return to. He moves his lips mere inches away from Lucanis’, teasing him with the promise of a kiss. 

“Come for me.” He murmurs, pressing his mouth against Lucanis’ as the other two practically sigh in relief, finally being allowed to orgasm. The way Viago grunts into Lucanis’ mouth is enough to tip him over, spilling himself into Rook’s messy cunt. The feeling of Lucanis’ seed being released in her makes Rook clench hard around the both of them, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Her thighs tremble as Lucanis continues to fuck her through his own orgasm, ensuring nothing is wasted. Viago is the last to finish, pressing a final harsh thrust into her as he comes. Lucanis’ tongue moves with Viago’s, his cock still shallowly thrusting into her as her release starts to subside. 

There’s a long, long break before anyone moves. Viago pulls out, careful not to hurt Rook, pressing a kiss against her ear. “You were perfect. An absolute dream.” He mutters, tasting the sweat that sticks to her body. Lucanis picks Rook up for a moment, only to also pull out, before setting her down gently on top of him. The only thing he can hear is Rook’s breath against his neck, and her heart beating against his chest. It hammers loudly although her breathing is slowed, a cheap shot at calming her entire body down so that way she’ll be able to actually stand tomorrow morning. Lucanis’ hands stroke through her hair, pulling her so close that their bodies could almost meld into one.

Viago bends down, pressing his knee into the chaise, and spreads Rook’s legs, using his thumb to slip inside her vagina and groaning a long chain of curses when Lucanis’ cum drips out of her. Rook jumps at his touch, still sensitive after being rutted against by the two of them. When Viago removes his fingers from inside her, Rook sighs in relief, but cries out once more when Viago attaches his mouth to her core instead. His tongue digs inside her, pulling more of Lucanis’ seed out of her and into his mouth.

She pushes herself up onto her hands and arches her back, moaning deliciously while Viago grips her backside and spreads her even more. While he grunts into her, his mouth against her wet cunt creates such crass sounds that Lucanis breathlessly laughs in equal parts embarrassment but also arousal. Viago swallows everything he can get, uncaring whether it came from Rook or Lucanis. He laps at her outer folds, his mouth sucking on her sensitive bud and forcing Rook to cover her mouth so she doesn’t scream.

Finally, Viago relents, pulling his mouth away from her core with a satisfying pop. Lucanis gazes at him in amazement, the other man standing over the two and his icy stare meeting Lucanis’ wide eyed face. He notices how some of Lucanis’ release drips down his own chin; and without breaking eye contact, swipes his thumb across his face and licks, swallowing deeply. Lucanis’ cock jumps at the mere sight of Viago consuming a part of him, all while Rook’s body presses against him in all the right places.

Lucanis brings a weary hand to his face and rubs his eyes, sighing. “You’re going to kill me.” Again, he’s unsure who exactly he’s speaking to.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 14

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Implied smut, angst, attempted sexual assault - it's stopped, but there is non-consensual kissing and fondling. Misogyny and violence.

Word Count: 5,115

A/N: Here's Ch. 14, the penultimate chapter! I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean bounded up the stairs leading to his front door, two at a time. He needed to get in and out quickly. He was already running behind and he didn’t need to be waylaid by his family. He just needed to change for the show before going to pick up Y/N. He had a lot of clothes stashed away in her hotel wardrobe, but not his tuxedo. 

Just the thought of Y/N made anger churn in his stomach again, but he pushed it aside. Thoughts of her had kept him distracted all afternoon, and it was affecting his work. 

It was pointless to be angry, anyway; it didn’t matter enough to be angry. There had always been a fifty-fifty chance of her staying or going. Sure, maybe her decision to let him bed her the night before had confirmed for him that she meant to stay, but she obviously didn’t see it that way. 

So that was the end of it.

He walked carefully through his front door, happy to find his home quiet; no one was around as he crossed the foyer to the wide staircase that led up to his bedroom. When he was halfway up, however, he heard Jessica call to him from the bottom.

“Dean! You’re here.”

He sighed. “Evidently.” He said as he stopped and turned back, trying for a smile as she climbed the staircase to join him.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, I do believe I live here.” He said sardonically. 

She cocked her head and gave him a look that said she didn’t think he was funny. “You know what I mean. You’ve barely been around since we’ve been here. Or should I say,” she raised an eyebrow, “since Y/N’s been here.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “I’ve been busy with work. Which is why I’ve gotta get going now.” He pointed upstairs. “I’m late.”

Jessica frowned. “You’re late for work at,” she checked the grandfather clock on the landing. “at seven thirty in the evening?”

Dean sighed. “I’m taking potential business partners to The Manhattan, the vaudeville theater, for a show tonight. I’m just here to get dressed.” 

He’d invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton, the owner of Clearwater Pulp and Paper to come to the show with them. He refused to believe the small voice in the back of his mind that told him he only did it so he wouldn’t be alone with Y/N all evening. He’d simply done it as an apology for being utterly distracted in their meetings earlier that afternoon.

He turned away from Jessica to start up the stairs again, but she reached out to grab his wrist. 

“Wait. I…I wanted to talk to you.”

Dean sighed. “Sure. What is it?”

Jessica let go of his wrist to cross her arms over her waist, stepping up one stair so that she was on the same step as Dean, leveling their heights. It wasn’t often that Dean found himself standing nearly eye to eye with a woman, but Jess was very tall. 

Perfect fit for Sam. Dean thought, even as the fierce look in her eye had him bracing for an onslaught.

“I was wondering what…what are your intentions with Y/N?”

Dean frowned darkly. “Excuse me?”

Jessica raised her chin. “You heard me. Y/N is a respectable woman.”

Dean’s voice was low and strained. “Have I ever insinuated that she isn’t?”

Jessica made a scoffing noise. “I know about the offer you made to her, and I believe that it was less than respectable.”

Dean’s jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly as he spoke. “My private affairs are no business of yours.” He said, turning away and starting back up the stairs.

“They are my business when they concern my governess, a respectable young woman that we’ve taken under our wing.” 

She followed him up the stairs to the landing. “Someone we see as family!” She called out to him when he started up the second half of the stairs.

He turned back to her. “Y/N is a grown woman and is quite capable of making her own decisions. In fact, I doubt very much she’d appreciate this little conversation.”

Jessica stomped up the steps after him. “I know for a fact she doesn’t want me to talk to you, because she told me not to. But I thought…” 

She reached his level again and stared at him for a moment. Then her shoulders deflated and she shook her head. “I thought I could get through to you. Make you understand that you’re throwing away a remarkable woman, kind and caring, beautiful, intelligent.”

Dean waved away her words, running up the rest of the stairs. “I’m well aware of Y/N’s attributes, thank you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you marry her? I mean my god, you love each other, that much is obvious, so I simply don’t understand your reasoning.”

Dean went deathly still, alarm bells screaming in his head. The same bells that had been going off for weeks now, maybe longer. 

He looked back at Jessica and knew his anger was obvious. “That is absolutely not true and you have no idea what you’re talking about! I am not ‘in love’ with anyone, and I have absolutely no intention of ever being married!”

He took a breath and attempted to speak calmly, but his voice was still raised. “Now, since you seem to know all about my life anyway, I’ll tell you straight out that Y/N has refused my offer and will be returning home with you in a couple of days. Seems as though continuing on as a ‘respectable woman’ as you put it, has trumped being ‘in love’.” He spat the words out, his stomach bound in knots and the now familiar panic climbing in his chest.

He turned away from her again and Jessica chased after him. “I simply don’t understand you!” She shouted at him. 

He spun back to face her. “You don’t have to understand me! You just have to mind your own damn business and stop-”

“Mommy?”

Lucy’s little voice interrupted Dean and he turned, still breathing heavily, to see Lucy standing in the doorway to her room, rubbing her eyes. She’d obviously already been in bed and their shouting had woken her up.

“What’s wrong?” 

Jessica walked over to pick her up and give her a shaky smile. “Nothing, poppet. Uncle Dean and I were just…talking.”

Lucy pouted. “Loudly.”

Dean reached over to pinch her cheek lightly, trying hard to keep his voice level. “Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve gotta go now anyway, so you go on back to sleep.”

He turned away quickly before Jessica had the chance to say anything more. He tried desperately to erase her words from his mind, but they summed up one of his worst nightmares and he had a hard time wiping them away.

***

Y/N was just starting to wonder whether Dean was simply not going to come, when she saw him appear on the other side of the garden doors, knocking gently.

She stood up from her chair and waved him in. He opened the doors and stepped through, bringing the scent of cold air with him.

He nodded at her and she smiled a false smile.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I apologize for being late. Work went longer than I expected. But we made a lot of progress. I hope you don't mind but I've invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton to the show with us this evening. Just as a gesture of goodwill while negotiations are being finalized.”

Y/N nodded. “Of course. That's smart.”

He nodded back and an awkward silence sat between them for a few seconds before Dean picked up Y/N’s coat from the chair and held it open for her.

“Well, shall we?”

***

As they jostled along the New York streets, Y/N found herself getting more and more annoyed at the continuing silence between them. If this was how the rest of their time together was going to go, she didn't think she could take it. 

She turned to look at his stiff profile; it was gorgeous like a marble statue, and just as unmoving.

She sighed. “Are we honestly not even going to talk about this?”

She saw his jaw tick. Movement at last! “Talk about what?” He asked, dully.

Y/N refused to answer such a ridiculous and redundant question, merely staring at him until he finally turned his head slightly to look at her briefly before rolling his eyes and looking forward again.

“What is there to talk about, Y/N?”

Y/N barked out a laugh without humor. “A lot, potentially.”

He growled slightly under his breath, and shifted in the seat so his torso faced her. 

“Have you changed your mind? Hmm? Ready to accept my offer after all?”

Y/N's heart squeezed tight and she heard a voice in her mind shout a resounding “Yes!” But she shook her head sadly. 

“No, but-”

“Then that's it, isn't it?! It’s finished. There's nothing else to discuss because we’ve already discussed it. So that's it, and we're done.”

Y/N felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. She knew he was referring to the discussion being over, but the words went much deeper than their current conversation and they both knew it.

She nodded slightly and turned to stare out the front of the carriage again. “Yes, fine.”

A few minutes later, they finally pulled up outside The Manhattan Theater, which was large and impressive. The lobby inside held a glittering chandelier and lively art on the walls; Y/N knew that under better  circumstances she would have been excited and eager to be there. But the world seemed dim now, all of it lacking in color.

Then, afew minutes after arriving, her evening got much worse.

George Taskett was approaching them with a smile, and walking just behind him was Byron Temple; and he was smiling the way an alligator smiles, like he’s just waiting to swallow you whole.

The two men reached them and George held out his hand to Dean. “Good to see you Winchester and thanks again for the tickets. I don't get out very often when we come up to New York, so this is wonderful.”

He patted Byron on the shoulder. “Hope you don't mind, but Mr. Brighton sent word that he'd been called back to the mill on some urgent business and couldn't attend. So, not wanting the ticket to go to waste, I invited Byron along.”

Dean's smile wasn't echoed in his tone.

“Of course not. Good thinking.” He reached out a hand to Temple and the man shook it, his beady blue eyes calculating and cold. 

Dean stepped back and put his hand on Y/N's lower back. “You both remember my companion, Miss Taylor?”

Y/N bowed her head towards the two men. Taskett smiled warmly. “Of course I remember. Couldn't forget such a lovely face.” 

“Indeed.” Byron said, smiling again and making Y/N's skin crawl. “You seem to have bloomed even more since our last meeting.”

Despite everything going on between them, Y/N pressed herself into Dean's side and was immensely grateful when he slipped his hand around the side of her waist to hold her there.

The lobby lights dimmed briefly, letting them know the show was about to start, so they all filed into the theater. George and Byron were sitting a couple of rows behind them, so they parted ways and took their seats, agreeing to meet in the lobby afterwards.

Y/N was very glad to lose Byron Temple's uncomfortable presence. But as she and Dean sat down beside each other, she began to feel the tension grow between them once again. 

The show began, and the first act was a dancing clown who did a lot more prat falling than dancing. Everyone else laughed and clapped at his antics, but even though Y/N clapped along, she couldn't force herself to laugh. 

She smiled politely through the other acts; a man and a dog who performed tricks together, a comedian who told vaguely risque jokes that she wouldn't have understood a few months ago, a male and female dance act who were decidedly better than the clown, and many other interesting acts. Sometimes they were very talented, and sometimes just unusual. 

But Y/N knew that a few days ago she would have loved them all. Now; however, her heart was simply too battered to enjoy any of it.

Then, just before the last act of the evening, Lillian Russell came on stage. Y/N knew her name; she knew she was a singer. But judging by the reaction of the crowd, she realized that she must be an incredibly popular singer. The audience cheered loudly, clapping for a full minute as Miss Russell stood on stage, graciously waving and curtsying to the crowd.

As the cheers finally quieted, the orchestra struck up and the soprano began to sing. Her voice  was rich and sweet - certainly beautiful enough for Y/N to understand the reaction she’d received. She sang three songs, to the thunderous applause of the audience. But as she tried to leave the stage after the third, the crowd cheered for her to sing more. 

Someone near the front shouted, “After the Ball!” And everyone around him picked up the cry, chanting for her to sing the popular song. 

Y/N's stomach clenched as Miss Russell smiled indulgently and held out a hand towards the orchestra. “Alright, just the chorus through twice then, shall we?”

The familiar notes of the waltz began and Y/N felt tears come to her eyes, letting them fall as the soprano's beautiful voice gave heart wrenching power to the melancholic lyrics.

After the ball is over,

After the break of morn—

After the dancers' leaving;

After the stars are gone;

Many a heart is aching,

If you could read them all;

Many the hopes that have vanished,

After the ball.

As the orchestra played the closing notes and the crowd began to clap wildly, Y/N dipped her head towards Dean quickly.

“Excuse me.” She said, rising and making her way to the end of the aisle and then out into the lobby. Those lyrics had felt a little too relatable and the lilting melody brought back the memory of Dean waltzing with her around her hotel room.

Was that really only yesterday morning? Y/N thought. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She quickly made her way to the ladies room, incredibly grateful that it was empty while the rest of the audience watched the end of the show. She sat on one of the padded benches and tried to get ahold of herself. This whole evening had been a mistake. After their disastrous goodbye earlier, Y/N should have begged off.

As it turned out, pretending she was fine when her heart was splintering into tiny pieces was actually remarkably difficult.

After a minute or two, Y/N felt a little more in control, and splashed some cold water on her face at the sink, patting it dry with her handkerchief and then tucking it back in her purse. She took a big breath and walked back through the door, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the man waiting for her just outside.

“I saw you run this way.” Byron Temple said in a dark voice. “I thought I should come make sure you were alright.”

Y/N squeezed her hands into fists, immediately disliking the fact that the ladies room was tucked away under the stairs, hidden from the main lobby. She supposed it was designed to give ladies some privacy, but that was the last thing she wanted right now.

She licked her lips and tried to smile. “That's very kind. But I'm fine, thank you. Just powdering my nose. If you'll excuse me, Dean will be waiting for me.”

She tried to step past him, but he snagged her wrist and pushed her further under the stairs. She tugged against his hold, trying to break it, but he held firm.

“Don't know why you're running back to that bastard. I can see that he's made you cry.” He ran his thumb across her cheek and she slapped his hand away. He merely chuckled. 

“I told you before, pet, to call on me when Winchester sets you aside. And I'm guessing by the tension between you two, and the tears staining your cheeks now, that it's either happened or is just about to happen.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N said in a harsh whisper. “Now unhand me and leave me alone.”

“Don't be like that, pet. I promise that I can offer you a lot more than he can. I'll show you just how a woman like you should be treated.” 

Y/N yanked on her wrist again, speaking quietly but angrily. “You are disgusting and vile and I want nothing to do with you, do you hear me? Now let go of me this instant, or I’ll tell Dean what you've said here and he’ll-”

Byron laughed. “No you won't, and if you did, so what? Do you honestly think he’d care when he’s done with you anyway? Do you really believe he's going to toss away the massive deal that’s been brokered between our companies, a deal that’s been six months in the making - just because I upset his little whore?” 

Y/N clenched her jaw, embarrassment spreading through her at the degrading insult. But she had no doubt of her answer. “Yes. I know he would.”

But Byron ignored her, yanking her up against him and shaking his head. “I think what you really need is a taste of what you're missing out on.”

Before she could even squeal a protest he slammed his mouth over hers, shoving his tongue past her closed lips and making her gag. Acting completely on instinct, Y/N bit down on the slimy muscle invading her mouth, making Byron swear and rip his mouth away from hers. 

She could taste the coppery blood he left behind in her mouth, and then he backhanded her and the sharp taste of her own blood mixed with his.

“Fucking bitch.” He growled at her with quiet rage, pushing her backwards until she was shoved up against the wall. “I would have treated you so nice. But I guess now I have to show you what a real man does with nasty whores.” 

He slammed his hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air and making her panic instantly. He bent his head slightly, attaching his foul mouth to her neck, while his other hand was shoved up her skirts, grabbing at her thigh and pulling at the ties on her drawers as she struggled against him.

Then suddenly he was ripped away from her and she bent double, gasping air into her starved lungs. 

She looked up in time to see Dean smashing his fist into Temple's face, a loud crunch indicating that his nose was now broken. The older man fell to the ground with a howl and Dean immediately jumped on him, pummeling him endlessly with left and right blows, as blood spewed over the marble floor beneath them.

Coming out of her stupor, Y/N ran to Dean, pulling on his arm, just as a crowd began to gather. George Taskett pushed his way through the crowd to pull on Dean’s other arm, just barely managing to pry him off. 

“What on earth is going on here?” He shouted, obviously very confused.

Dean was breathing harshly, and his tuxedo was askew, but otherwise Temple hadn't managed to get in even a single blow.

“I'll tell you what's happening!” Dean shouted. “The goddamn deal is off.”

Both Y/N and George gave Dean wide-eyed, disbelieving looks. 

“Dean, don't.” Y/N said softly, beginning to tremble.

“What are you talking about, Winchester? What has gone on here?” George asked again, looking down at his Vice President laying on the ground as Byron covered his bleeding, broken nose and, horribly, spat out a tooth.

“If you think for one minute I'm going to do business with scum like this, a man so lacking in moralality that he would-,” Dean cut himself off and then waved dismissively at Temple, “well, then you're crazy.”

He grabbed Y/N's hand and quickly hustled her out through the gathered crowd. Y/N looked back helplessly at George Taskett, who seemed to be completely knocked for a loop.

Dean quickly hailed a cab and helped Y/N up into it. “Rialto Hotel, quickly.” He told the driver as he climbed in behind her. The driver clicked his tongue at the horses and they sped away. 

Dean tried to look at her more closely in the dim light of the carriage, pushing her disheveled hair off of her face. But Y/N was shaking too hard now, as the terror of the situation came crashing down upon her. She just shook her head and buried her face in Dean’s chest, weeping uncontrollably now that she was safe.

Dean gave up trying to see her face and just wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He lifted her out of the cab when they arrived, and refused to put her down until they were inside the room.

She stood in the middle of the floor, while he quickly lit all the lamps and closed the curtains. Then he returned to where she stood and gently peeled her coat off of her shoulders. He stayed behind her to take the pins out of her hair, pulling it back off her face while she inhaled deep, shuddery breaths, finally calming down enough to speak softly to him.

“Thank you.”

Dean just shook his head and turned her to face him, moving her into the light a little more and trying once again to see the damage. She watched his face contort with rage all over again as he saw her split lip and the angry bruise she could feel pulsing under the skin of her right cheekbone.

But he gritted his teeth and his voice was gentle as he kissed her forehead. “Just wait here, sweetheart.”

He moved off to the bathroom and she heard him running the bath. Tears began to fall again as he came back and led her into the warmly lit room, filled with the scent of lavender. 

He removed her clothes gently, and then helped her step into the tub. She looked back at him as he held her hand. 

“Will you hold onto me?” 

Dean nodded and stripped away his clothes quickly, stepping in behind her and sitting them both down in the warm, fragrant water.

For a little while he simply held her as she’d asked, pressing soft kisses to her temple and along her hairline. Eventually he took one of the clean cloths and ran it under the cold water tap for a moment before pressing it to the side of her face that was still throbbing.

“Y/N, what happened?” He finally whispered to her.

So she told him. Her voice was quiet and halting at first, but she eventually told him everything, including what had happened at the poker game.

Dean clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me that sooner? I would have ended things with that snake immediately.”

“Exactly.” Y/N said with conviction. “That's why I didn’t tell you. I knew how important that deal was, how hard you'd worked on it, and I didn't want you to have to end it simply because of some insults from a jackass.”

Dean shook his head. “That wasn't something you needed to worry about.”

Y/N shrugged. “Of course it was. It was important to you.”

“Yes, but not more-” Dean cut himself off and Y/N felt him tense before he continued 

 “You should have told me.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, I should have.”

Dean was quiet for a minute before pulling the cloth away from her cheek and kissing her there gently. “Ready to get out?”

She nodded again and Dean stood up to help her out of the cooling water.

He dried her off and then combed gently through her hair before braiding it, pampering her in much the same way as he had that first night they’d spent in the hotel together. Y/N knew she would have started crying again, if she’d had any tears left to shed. But she'd finally cried herself out and now she was just exhausted. 

Dean tucked her into bed and seemed to hesitate a moment before climbing in after her and pulling her back against his warm chest. Her heart hurt, and her head ached, but despite that, her tired mind slipped, fairly quickly, into a very restless sleep. 

Some time in the middle of the night Y/N woke to find Dean wasn't beside her. She sat up quickly and sighed in relief when she saw him sitting in one of the green chairs. The light in the room was dim, just one lamp burning, and he was cast in shadows.

“What are you doing?” Y/N called to him softly.

Dean got up and came to sit on the bed facing her. “You punched me twice in your sleep, and I thought maybe I was making you have bad dreams, holding you the way I was.”

Y/N shook her head and shuddered. “No. You weren't the bad guy in my dreams.” She whispered.

Dean pushed her braid back off her shoulder. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry I brought him anywhere near your life.”

Y/N frowned. “But it isn't your fault. You couldn't have known. I'm just grateful for the rescue.” She took a deep breath. “You know…he's the reason - one of the reasons - I said no to your offer.”

Dean tensed. “Y/N…”

But she just continued. “Or, well, men just like him. He called me…” The word stuck in her throat and she cleared it. “He called me a whore, you know. And…he wouldn't be the only one. Most of the world would believe the same, if I stayed with you.”

Dean's jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Yes, I understand. And I’m sorry for that. The world can be an ugly, hypocritical place.” 

He licked his lips. “But what I’ve offered you, Y/N, it's…it's all I can offer. I can't…I won't get married, and I won't love you.”

Y/N felt what was left of her heart shatter completely.

Dean spoke softly, shaking his head. “I can't, sweetheart. I won't.” He reiterated before taking a shaky breath. “But you and Jessica are right.”

Y/N frowned, trying hard to keep the ever present tears at bay. “Jessica?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed slightly, “she took me to task earlier tonight. Said I had no right to make an offer like that to a respectable lady.”

He shrugged and one corner of his mouth lifted. “And she was right. You deserve more out of life than to be ostracized by the world. You deserve to get what you always wanted, what you told me you wanted all those months ago.” 

He smiled at her gently and ran his fingers along her jaw. “You deserve contentment, children, a respectable cottage and a…” He paused and cleared his throat, nodding as though he was answering a question in his own mind. “And a compatible husband.” 

Y/N wanted to shout at him that he'd made those things impossible now, that she wouldn’t find contentment without him, that the compatible husband she'd always wanted was sitting right in front of her. 

But she didn't say any of that; he'd made his feelings very clear, and she couldn't fault him for not loving her. It wasn't a given that just because she loved him with every fiber of her being, he was going to love her back.

“I won't love you.”

At least he wasn’t lying to her - trying to hold onto her under false pretenses.

She smiled at him now, through her brokenness. “Yes, I'll hope for those things, I guess. But…” 

She swallowed hard and tugged on his hand. “Will you come back to bed, and do those things you do to me that make me forget everything else? Kiss me until the world fades away to nothing but you and me?”

As he leaned in to claim her mouth in a searing kiss, Dean's bright green eyes glittered like jewels and she knew in that moment, that emeralds would always make her cry.

***

Y/N woke late the next morning and she wasn’t surprised by the empty bed beside her. She'd felt Dean disappear from her before the sun had even broken over the horizon. 

She sat up and saw the note that was tucked under her snow globe on the table. She wrapped the sheet around her and walked over to sit gingerly on the edge of the chair that was closest. She stared down at the folded piece of paper for a couple of minutes before picking it up and unfolding it. 

Dean's neat, bold handwriting took up the whole page.

Y/N read over the short note several times, hoping to find something more than the words on the page, but that was it.

She folded it back up and let it flutter to the floor as she wound up her snow globe and set it down on the table, staring at it as she rested her chin on her folded arms. For a long time, as her tears flowed silently, she drank in the frozen scene of permanent joy that could never be hers.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@kr804573

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[veroniquesboutique]

i wanna hear you

JJK men and how they sound in the bedroom

feat. Satoru Gojo, Nanami Kento, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen, & Choso Kamo

genre: NSFW smutty one-shots

warnings: AFAB!Reader, female reader, PV sex, unprotected sex, pet names out the wazoo, light bondage & orgasm denial (gojo), overstimulation & toys (nanami), praise kink (geto), degradation & very mean & very rough & car sex & anal (toji), implied concubine & restraint & pain (sukuna), virginity & premature ejactulation (choso)

wc: ~3k

a/n: back on my JJK bs with my first attempt at a multi-character one-shot post like this. Content is NSFW and 18+, so minors DNI!

More (explicit) below the cut!

Satoru Gojo: subby whimpers and pleas

“Use me, use me, use me,” His voice cracks into a higher pitch as he whispers his chants, completely drunk on your lips and your pussy. He’s absolutely beautiful as his face contorts, scrunching and tensing, his jaw-dropping open to pant wildly as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. Your lips find his jaw, and you drag your teeth gently against the skin there, bouncing harshly on his lap to take all of his length so deep in you that it’s making your toes go numb. 

“That’s what I’m doing, baby,” you murmur, and he moans out another whimper as he struggles against the restraints that are tying his hands behind the chair he’s sitting in. The incredibly lewd, slick squelching sounds of you taking him over and over and over echo in your dimly lit living room. One of your hands is wrapped in his hair, pulling the strands roughly to expose his neck to your grazing, searching lips, and your other hand is gripping his waist to stabilize yourself in his lap. Your knees are pressed into the back of the chair, and your legs are slotted in between his legs and the arms of the chair. 

You dig your nails in deeper to the skin just above his hip, and he starts at the sharp pain, panting so loudly he sounds like he’s hyperventilating.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to cum,” He warns, wanting to buck into you but slipping without any leverage.

“Are you? Are you close?” You whimper mockingly back, and he nods as you bear down in his lap and grind yourself against him. His eyes roll to the back of his head, letting you bend to lick at his collarbones and bite at the blushing skin there.

“Yes, yes, yes, I am, yes.”

You shoot up, letting his cock slide fully out of you and bounce against his lap. He cries out at the sudden loss of your warm, tight cunt. 

“Says who?” You coo, pulling his hair to make him look at you again, and he looks so overwhelmed he might cry. 

“Please?” He pleas, desperate, but you raise your eyebrows at him. That’s not good enough to get what he wants. “Please, please, please let me cum. I’m begging, please.”

You reach down between your bodies to stroke his cock with your hand, menacingly slowly as you lean in to speak your next words directly into his mouth, kissing him. He completely dissolves at the feeling, the whimpers coming out of his mouth wet and needy.

“I’ll let you know when you can.”

Nanami Kento: talking you through it

“Look at me, pretty girl, look me in the eyes please,” His voice is stern but warm, and it’s the only thing that breaks through the fog of your impending orgasm. You lift your heavy head and open your eyes to see his beautiful brown eyes staring down at you, dripping in lust as his jaw clenches at the sight of you melting for him.

His middle and ring finger are curled deep inside you, pressing harshly against your g spot and making your legs jelly. You’re lying in bed, fully naked and exposed to him, but all he’s given you is taking off the leopard print tie from around his neck and pushing up his sleeves to reveal his forearms. As he thrusts inside you, the veins on his arms pop, and if you were anywhere in your right mind before, you aren’t now.

His other hand is holding a vibrator against your clit. The pleasure swirling through your body is dizzying, making all of your nerves stand on end as he roughly fucks you.

He’s clearly straining against his suit pants, but he has always been a patient man, putting your pleasure before his many times over.

“I-I can’t-” You pant out, your whole body tensing as the coil tightens and tightens deep in your core.

“Yes, you can, sweetness, I know you can. You’re going to cum for me, okay?” His voice is still so, so strong, and the words cradle your body, sweeping against your overly sensitive skin to make you shiver. You nod because if it’s what Kento wants, then you’re going to give it to him.

“Okay, okay,” You pant out, desperately trying to keep your eyes open and locked on him as he continues to massage deep in you, and when that coil finally snaps, you feel yourself gush out all over his hand and arm, your legs shaking violently in time with the vibrations from the toy still pressing into your clit.

“There we go, there we go,” He groans out, his voice deepening into a syrupy sweet chocolate sound, dark and full of desire. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You moan out, throwing your head back and arching against the bed as he slows his fingers. Even still, as your toes curl and your whole body spasms with overstimulation, he doesn’t pull out, and he doesn’t take the overwhelming vibrations away from the sensitive spots between your thighs.

You thrash lightly against the bed, unable to even think as he slowly starts to press into your sore g spot again.

“Now just give me another one, pretty girl. One more, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Suguru Geto: praise, praise, and more praise

“Oh good girl, you look so beautiful taking all of me like that,” He whispers into the shell of your ear, his hair tickling the skin on your face and neck and chest as he slowly fucks his length deep into you. You can feel the tip of his cock kiss at your cervix, and it makes your whole body tense in surprise, not used to feeling anything this deep inside you. 

“Darling, it’s okay, you’re going to feel so, so good,” He murmurs softly, shifting the pillow under your hips just slightly to give him a better angle. You press your knees into his waist as he bottoms out again, and you moan out so lewdly, it’s nearly pornographic.

“A-already so good,” You stutter, squeezing your eyes shut so your whole body is overwhelmed by him him him only him. 

“You’re making me feel so good too,” He kisses at the skin just under your earlobe, making you shiver at the softness of his mouth compared to the splitting pleasure of his cock between your legs. “The way your pussy is taking me all in, God, it’s my favorite.”

You whimper a little, and his hand comes up to caress the base of your neck, squeezing there so gently that it just feels like tight pressure. He licks a line from your jaw back to your ear as his hips slowly start to pick up speed.

His other hand comes to the back of your thigh, pressing you up and open ever so slightly, but this other change in angle has him hitting exactly where he needs to deep inside you. You mewl out, and you press your lips against his neck, your lips finding his Adam’s apple and grazing it gently with your teeth. He gently chuckles deep in your ear, his voice so soft and heavy in your chest that it makes your neck tense up. 

“Use your pretty voice to tell me what you need, baby girl,” He asks, and you pant, bringing your nails to his back to hold on tight as he fucks you into oblivion.

“M-my…” You whimper against his skin, the words dying in your throat with every thrust and the inching feeling of embarrassment in your stomach. “My…”

“Go ahead, baby girl, I want to hear you say it,” He whispers again, slowing slightly to give your brain time to think.

“My clit,” You whimper, nuzzling into his shoulder to hide your face in embarrassment, but you’re immediately rewarded by his strong, rough fingers circling your needy clit, and it makes you melt into the sheets.

“See, darling, all you have to do is ask. You look so pretty losing your mind on my cock. I’ll do anything to make you cum.”

Toji Fushiguro: degradation that makes you cry

“You fucking whore, good for just your holes. Nothin’ else,” He grunts, landing a harsh spank on your ass that makes you yelp, your face being pushed harshly into the headrest of the backseat as he takes you from behind. 

“Toji,” You whine, kicking your feet a little as he bullies deep inside you, roughly slamming his hips against yours. “You’re being mean.”

“And you’re being a whore. Honey, if the shoe fits,” He laughs at you, and one of his hands finds the hair on the back of your head, pulling it roughly and snapping your head up. You can feel him skewering you deep, and it’s like he has no regard for your pleasure.

“It hurts, Toji,” You moan, shimmying your hips to change the angle, but he spanks you again, leaving a red hand shape on your flesh that’ll slowly bruise over the course of the night.

“You should’ve thought about that before you wore that dress out to dinner,” He leans into you, and you can feel his balls slapping against your clit so aggressively that it’s making your toes curl and your mouth drool. “You got me all hard. Gotta do something about it.”

“Could’ve waited until we got home,” You whine again, and his hand in your hair grips you tighter, pulling you up so he can speak darkly directly into your ear.

“You wanna say that again, slut?” He asks, his hand now wrapping around your throat and testing a squeeze, and you gulp down your words, closing your eyes as you come up to grab his wrist.

“N-no.”

“Good.” He lets go, and you fall forward again, letting him absolutely fuck you to ruin. His hand rests against your ass, and suddenly, you feel his thumb pressing against your asshole. You gasp, tensing your whole body, but you let him rub against your hole because telling him no at this point would just make him angrier. He spits, the warm wetness dripping between your cheeks, and without warning, he hooks his thumb into the tight muscle, making you cry out, rosy cheeked and tears brimming.

“That feel good, mama?” He laughs at you again, and you whimper out a moan, pushing your hips back to feel him deeper inside you, your brain melting out your ears at the feeling of both holes being used. He spanks you again with his other hand, his hips now chasing his orgasm deep in you at the look of you enjoying being used by him. Your hand comes up to pull at your own nipple, your leaking eyes looking back to meet his.

“I knew you liked it when I used you like this. Now I gotta make sure you remember this when you sit at dinner. Keep my little whore sore and needy”

Ryomen Sukuna: animalistic grunts, growls, and the occasional howl

“Take all of me,” He groans out the command as you obediently hold your knees near your shoulders, keeping your thighs spread wide for him as he fucks his thick, overbearing cock into your walls with such savage ferity that it reminds you that Sukuna isn’t human at all. What above you is a curse - the king of curses - and he has lost himself in the inviting wetness of your cunt just as he does every night when he comes back to your room. 

The cold stone of the floor hurts your back as he rams into you, but you can’t really focus on it because all of your senses are being overwhelmed by his presence. He’s grunting directly in your face, his teeth finding your lips and biting at you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth to chew on, and it hurts so good. 

“M-my lord,” You moan out, squeezing the flesh of your thighs harder as his smell makes your brain dizzy, something so earthy and spicy that you can feel it burn you at the back of your throat as his tongue chokes you, squirming into your mouth to taste all of you. At your words, he groans deep, so deep it rumbles the window in the frame, and two of his hands find yours, peeling your fingers from your thighs and holding your wrists above your head. His other two hands replace yours to hold you open, and you let out a small sound when he pushes you wider than you held yourself. 

Your slick wetness is running out of you as your body frantically tries to accommodate his ever thickening cock. There’s a slapping sound every time he bottoms out in you, and it echoes in the cold, cold room without anything to dampen the sound. The collar around your neck feels tight as you try to gulp in air, and the chain connecting you to the frame of your bed is taut as he pulls your body closer and closer to him. 

He growls in your ear as you squeeze your fingers around his hand, your eyes fluttering closed as soft pants leave your tongue, so sweet and innocent for the way he’s ruining your body. He drops his mouth to your neck, and you stretch it out, submitting to him fully. 

“Please, my lord,” You beg, and you can feel him smile slightly against your skin before he bites down harshly right where your neck melts into your shoulder. It hurts so bad that your eyes spring with tears, but the pain is numbed by the pleasure of him fucking even harder into you. His teeth stay gripping into you as he pushes you so far apart that your knees hit the floor, and you can feel how your thighs are going to be sore in the morning. You’ll be unable to walk, but it doesn’t matter.

“Thank you, thank you,” You pant out, the tears dripping delicately off your eyelashes, and he responds with another deep growl, licking at the teeth marks he’s left in your skin.

“Silence. Focus on taking me; you have a long night ahead of you.”

Choso Kamo: virginal cries in pleasurable surprise

“Wait, wait, what are you-” He cuts his own words off with a loud cry, his whole body tensing, back arching, head thrown back and eyes rolling in his skull, as you guide his cock into your clenching pussy for the first time. Every time you’d been with Choso before this, you’d kept it contained to just mouth and hand stuff, but you couldn’t wait any longer to have him inside of you.

What better way to teach the birds and the bees than hands-on learning?

“Oh my God, oh my God,” He whispers, squeezing his eyes tight as you slowly move against him. You’re straddling him on your bed, taking the lead to show him how good he could really feel.

“Does that feel good, Cho?” You coo, letting him slide in and out of you, holding yourself up with your palms pressed against his chest.

“Unbelievably good!” He cries out, his hands coming up to grip your hips tightly as you begin to ride him. “You kept this from me?”

You laugh a little, throwing your own head back to let your hair waterfall down your back. “If I gave you too much immediately, you’d be spoiled.”

Now his hips are bucking up to meet yours, and you can feel his heartbeat throbbing deep inside you from how overwhelmed his body is. He does you the favor of bringing one of his hands in front of you, placing his thumb on your clit like you taught him to just a few weeks ago. He’s gotten pretty good at it, and you reward his attempts with a loud moan.

“A-am I doing it right?” He asks, breathless, his eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as he watches your body writhe on his, absolutely entranced by the way your breasts bounce and your stomach and thighs ripple with the impact your hips against his. He loves the way you stretch your neck out and back, and he wishes he could lean up to bite the skin there, wondering how hard he’d have to bite to make you bleed-

His thoughts are interrupted as you clench around his length, and you bite your bottom lip tight, looking back down at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“Fuck, babe, you’re doing it so right,” You praise, your body heating up with the way he’s thumbing against your clit.

The way you look right now, it’s driving him absolutely crazy. His head is hazy, completely lost at the way you look, and it’s making him lose his fucking mind-

“Oh God!” He cries loudly, his whole body convulsing as he cums suddenly inside you, and you freeze, surprised at how little it took to get him there. He shakes under you, the cries pouring from his mouth stuttering as his body comes off the orgasm.

When he finally calms, he looks up at you in surprise and embarrassment.

“Are you okay?” You ask, staring down at him in concern, but he just blushes at your words.

“Y-yeah, I just…came too quickly…”

You purr at his words, leaning down with a small smirk to kiss his lips ever so softly.

“It’s okay, Cho. We’ll just have to go again when you’re ready.”

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Perfection

Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol

Description: A passing comment makes you feel terrible about yourself. Fyodor and Nikolai disagree.

Set between Surprise and Sick Day

Warning: OOC. Body Insecurity. Hateful thinking during eating. Rude comments. Reader have hateful thoughts about themselves. English is my second language.

_______

You were in one of the many fast food restaurants in your city. Today you have a movie night and need some snacks for that. You were waiting in line for your turn to make order. Meanwhile, you read the menu once again. Maybe, something new was added.

Movie night was time full of unhealthy food and different movies, starting with classic films and ending up with any trashy movie you could find.

Today you were going to watch a bunch of Halloween movies. "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and "Ghostbusters" with everyone. And, after kids go to bed, you will watch "Bram Stoker's Dracula" just to hear Bram's comments about vampires and "Nightmare on Elm Street".

You knew, that tonight's going to be fun.

"Hello, how may I help you?" asked the cashier. They looked a little bit interested in everything, that happened around. You smile.

"Hello. I will have seven big buckets of fried wings and five big french fries. Thank you."

You took money from your pocket and put them on the counter. You knew, how much you need to pay, it wasn't the first time you made the order.

Cashier's eyes widen. He looked at you from head to toes. He mumbles.

"I-It will be ready in a few minutes..."

The cashier disappeared behind the kitchen's door. You start waiting. You decide to have a better look at some pictures, that were on the wall.

While you were looking at them, you heard hashed voices coming from the kitchen.

"What? Seven buckets of fried wings and five big french fries? Won't they burst?" said an unfamiliar voice.

"They immediately took the right amount of money from their pocket. It looks like this is not the first time they have made this order. It's quite obvious, really. Just look at their... cheeks... hands... stomach... Look at their everything!" The cashier from earlier answered.

You saw his reflection in the window. He was pointing at you and making some gestures in the air. Like he was trying to draw a sphere in the air.

You became still. You tried to tell yourself, that their opinion shouldn't matter, that they just bored and thought that you were an easy target.

"They looked like a balloon. A barrel with lard!"

You grit your teeth. Will you two stop and give me my order?

Finally, they became bored and returned to the kitchen. In a few moments, you finally got your order.

You glare at the cashier, but didn't say anything. Soon you will be home, having a good time with your friends.

You stomped away from the restaurant, holding bags with food in your hands. For one moment, you saw your reflection in the restaurant's window.

Your... cheeks do look chubbier.... And arms...

You hurry to the car. Kunikida was waiting for you.

You put bags on the back sit and sat on the front passenger seat.

You were silent on your way home.

You were staring at your reflection in the car window.

Were your cheeks always that chubby?

________

This evening was too cold for a summer evening.

So you decide to put on your jacket.

New jacket... That just month weeks ago was big to you.

New jacket, that now you could hardly put on you.

Small... It was small for you.

You decide, that you aren't that cold.

_________

The table in the living room were full of junk food.

Popcorn, nachos, tacos, chips, fried wings, french fries and soda drinks.

So tasty... So unhealthy...

...so much food, that will make you fatter...

The movie was on...

And each snack you ate felt like a rock in your stomach...

_________

After movie night was over, you locked yourself in your bedroom.

You take a better look at yourself in the mirror.

You have gained weight.

It was impossible, not to do it, while living with BSD Cast. Ivan was a good baker, Junchirou's cooking was amazing, Kenji could fry a steak better, than in any fancy restaurant, Kyouka's cooking make you want seconds, and it was impossible to say 'no' to food, that was cooked by Fyodor and Nikolai.

And how you can refuse to share snacks with Ranpo, or not have a tea party with Kirako and Naomi?

You decide to lose some weight... Do more exercises, then usual.

And ate less...

________

You manage to skip breakfast.

You just said that you were too tired and want to sleep some more.

They didn't ask you any questions.

You manage to skip lunch.

You pretend to be sleeping. Still.

You were forced to have dinner.

You couldn't sleep all day.

You are dinner with everyone. For dinner, you had mushed potatoes and pork.

You ate some mushed potatoes...

...your hips will be even wider...

You ate some pork..

... your stomach soon will look like you swallowed a globe...

You were smiling and talking with Atsushi, discussing last news...

And ate... Ate... Ate...

...they were right, you are a barrel with lard...

It takes your everything not to make yourself vomit after the dinner. If you didn't lose weight...

... soon they will leave a fat ball like you...

Everything is going to be okay... More exercises and less food... It will help...

________

For one week, you were trying to lose weight.

You train with Hunting Dogs even harder than before.

You didn't notice worried glances, that Teruko and Fukuchi cast at you. You didn't notice Jounou's attempts to make you rest. You didn't notice Tachihara's and Tetchou's hesitation, while they were exercising with you.

You didn't notice, that you looked less and less healthy.

_________

For one week, you skipped meals.

You find any excuse you could. Any reason you could find.

"I am not hungry" "Sorry, I need to finish something for my university" "I need to be somewhere right now, will have dinner in the city."

You choose to ignore worried glances.

You didn't manage to skip meals completely. You ate some fruits and vegetables every day. Not enough for a real meal.

You refused to have snacks with Ranpo. You choose to ignore, how hurt he looked, while hearing your 'no' for the third time in a week.

You refused to drink tea with Kirako and Naomi. You choose to ignore their questions, if they did something wrong.

You ignored, that you became more and more weaker.

______

You were banned from going to the training area. Something about you needing some rest and stop overworking yourself.

You could protest, but Gide and Verlaine, who were guiding the entrance to the training area, didn't look even slightly interested in hearing your arguments.

You couldn't do anything, so you return home.

And you immediately were greeted by Nikolai and Fyodor. Kolya grinned.

"Hey, [Y/N], let's have some lunch! I made pampushky¹ and Fedya made borscht! You will like it!"

Borscht and pampushky...

... even more fat...

... what if, back in May, Fyodor only asked to cuddle with you, because you were fat and warm, and he was cold?...

You lick your lips and mumbles.

"I can't... I must go to the library... In university library..."

Fyodor and Nikolai stared at each other.

Fyodor spoke. His voice was soft.

"Myshonok... Today is Sunday."

You close your eyes. What reason... Any reason...

You opened your mouth, trying to say something else, when a small bun was carefully shoved into your mouth.

"Here, Birdy, try it.... Please, just eat something..." Nikolai's voice sounded pleading.

You want to spit it out. But you had no other choice, but chew.

Fat pig... Hideous creature... You can't even hold yourself together...

You swallowed.

Before you can say something else, a spoon was put into your mouth.

Borscht... Warm soup... With meat and cabbage...

And sour cream...

"Myshonok, you need to eat. Stop starving yourself." Fyodor's voice was firm.

You will gain more weight... Even more clothes won't fit you...

You swallowed.

You looked at Nikolai and Fyodor. Both of them looked happy, that you ate at least one pampushka and one spoon of borscht.

And you despised yourself.

Nikolai took a step closer to you. He put his hands on your shoulders.

"Was it good? I sure, it was. I will bring another one... Oh, and a bowl of Fyodor's borscht! Just let me..."

You didn't know, what made you do this, but you were so close to screaming at Nikolai for giving you bread. You want to hurt Fyodor for forcing you to eat soup with sour cream.

hurt them hurt them them them make them pay say that you hate Them say that you hate them hurt them HURT YOURSELF

SAY THAT YOU HATE THEM

You open your mouth...

...hate them for what? For being your friends? For sticking around? For spending time with you? For worrying about you?...

...When was the last time you ate? Have a full meal and not a piece of apple? When was the last time you spent time with others? Were you even talking to Hunting Dogs while training? Did you say 'hello' to them...

You let out a quiet sob.

And immediately were pressed against Fyodor's chest. He draped his coat over you.

"Коля, я сейчас пойду и поговорю с Мышонком. Пора докопаться до правды. Сможешь сделать так, чтобы нас не побеспокоили?²" Fyodor's voice was calm. His grip was strong. You heard Nikolai's voice.

"Я це зроблю. Вас ніхто не потурбує.³" He sounds... worried. He stepped closer to Fyodor and lift the coat.

"Please... I miss you..."

He softly rubbed his cheek against yours and stepped away.

Fyodor's coat were once again draped over you.

You didn't resist, when Fyodor start leading you somewhere.

_____

The door closes behind you.

Fyodor removed his coat.

Both of you were in your room.

Your breathing was hard.

Fyodor was just standing here. Looking at you.

He spoke first.

"Myshonok, what's going on? You haven't eaten for one week, you hardly talk to anyone. We are worried about you."

You didn't answer. You were just swallowing tears, that were running down your cheeks.

You feel Fyodor's breath on your ear.

"[Y/N], please, talk to me."

You finally found your voice.

You told him about cashiers. About your sweater. About your insecurities. About hating yourself for eating food. About wanting to hurt Kolya and him just moments ago.

When you finish talking, only your sobs were heard.

Fyodor carefully squeezed your shoulders.

"[Y/N], everything about you is perfect. You are perfect, both inside and outside."

Your eyes met with Fyodor's purple eyes. They were so soft, so full of hidden affection. His hands cupped your cheeks.

"You aren't disgusting. You should not change because of some random person comments. And you only hurt yourself. You were almost starving all this week, you stopped talking to any of us. You try to make as many exercises as Tetchou normally do!"

Fyodor put his face closer to yours.

"Please, don't hurt yourself. If you feel down, just came to any of us. We all love you and want you to be happy. And for me..."

He kissed your cheek.

"For me, you are nothing less, than a perfection."

His eyes were so warm. You sobbed and hide your face in his chest.

He was warm. His embrace was everything you need right now.

"I... I..." you can't form a full sentence. Fyodor whispered, petting your head.

"Shhh... It's okay... It's okay... It will be okay..."

Fyodor took a step back, without breaking the embrace. He opened the door. You hear footsteps.

Now you were hugged by Fyodor and Nikolai at the same time.

Now you were sure, that everything is going to be fine.

_______

After you calm down, Fyodor, Nikolai and you had lunch together. It's not only was tasty, but very filling.

Then you three had a movie marathon. You were nested between Fyodor and Nikolai. A large bowl of popcorn with butter, salt and caramel was placed on your lap. It was tasty.

You had dinner with everyone. They were so happy, seeing you again. You felt, how the rest of your worries and sadness disappeared.

But, the last of bit of your sadness truly disappeared, when you were laying on your bed, in a middle of Fyodor and Nikolai cuddle sandwich. Your head were laying on Nikolai's chest. Fyodor's face were pressed against the back of your head.

Before drifting to sleep, you feel, how Fyodor kissed you on the back of your neck.

And whispered.

"Ты само совершенство, [Т/И].⁴"

______

1. Pampushky - a small savory or sweet yeast-raised bun or doughnut typical for Ukrainian cuisine.

2. Russian. "Kolya, I’ll go and talk to Baby mouse. It's time to get to the bottom of this. Can you make sure we won't be disturbed?

3. Ukrainian. "I will do it. No one will bother you."

4. Russian. "You are a true perfection, [Y/N]."

[volturissideslut]

Can you do the guards reacting to them getting walking in on while they are having fun with their mate, like on the couch or somewhere in their room besides the bed so they just throw a blanket over them to cover themselves.

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉

Im back with my bs, eat up darlings

Alec

Instant anger

It's not easy to anger him, though he may get testy sometimes

But when it comes to you, he would consider it a dishonor to not be

It's a good thing his gift is what it is, because whoever walked in loses every sense they have until they are shoved out the door - and rather roughly at that

Later on they'd come to you apologising profusely, almost sweating despite being physically unable to, and rest assured it will never happen again

Not after what Alec did after

Jane

Nobody

And I mean nobody

Has the guts to invade Jane mother fucking volturi's privacy

The kings just wouldn't generally, always sending someone to fetch her rather than going to her themself

And death from disobeying Caius seems more merciful than whatever Jane would do to them for not just exposing her, but her mate

But on the 0.0001% chance it did happen, they would be on the floor screaming and writhing before even seeing you

She is well respected (and feared) and wants her love to be held to the same standard

Demitri

One cocky peice of shit

Half of him wants to keep going

To show everyone that you're his, to let them know just how good he can make you feel

You're beautiful, a work of art. You should be appreciated

But the other half of him wants to keep you to himself. You're so good looking, he could just gobble you up

And he wants to keep that to himself

So with his teeth bared and a low threatening growl with an unsaid promise to do some damage, whoever walked in would just walk straight back out

Oh, and he has no intentions of stopping either. He meant it when he said he could just gobble you up

Felix

Probably doesn't even notice at first

You just feel so good, all he can focus on is the sounds you're making and he's all-consumed by you

You'd probably be the first to notice

And when you make him aware, he is not happy

Felix has a reputation within the volturi. It's why he's in the elite guard, it's why his known as the 'executioner'

The person knows to walk out

They know to keep their mouth shut

Because Felix has that reputation for a reason

And just because he's all warm and fuzzy like a giant teddy bear in the privacy in your shared quarters, doesn't mean that's how he is with the rest of the volturi

In other words: whoever walked in is scared shitless, and they better hope Felix was too distracted by you to see their face. They also should hope for your mercy to not tell him who they are

[sarahs-secrets2]

Notice Me ˋ♡ˊ

back on my phillip bs!!! wake up!!! thank you to @c0wb0yenthusiast for this idea 🤞🏻🫶🏻 ILYYY (hope i did it right oops)

loosely based on Notice Me by SZA

fem! (no use of Y/N)

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

He laughed, throwing back a beer as his eyes met yours across the bar. It almost looked like he was smiling at you, but it was impossible to tell. Before you knew it, he was maneuvering through the crowd towards you. 

“Havin’ fun?” and there he was, southern charmer Phillip Graves. He raised his eyebrows as he watched you stir your drink with the flimsy black plastic straw. 

You shrugged back, eyes meeting his, “It’s alright.”

“Just alright?” he tossed the beer back again, “C’mon now,” he nudged your shoulder playfully. It would have gone unnoticed if you hadn't been crushing on the Commander for the past few months. It wasn't like you planned to like him, but fuck was he hard to resist. 

The two of you talked occasionally, nothing crazy, you doubted him ever even noticing you. Something tonight felt different: his eyes darkened with each glance, the way he was standing closer than usual, his body brushing against yours. If you brought up how close he was, he would blame it on how busy the bar was (despite the crowd winding down as the night progressed). 

Phillip’s lips were moving but you were so lost in thought you couldn't make out what he was saying. “Darlin’,'' his hand waved in front of your face, “You listenin’?” 

Your eyes fluttered trying to focus on his words, nodding back trying to reassure him you were listening to whatever he was rambling about. “Yeah, sorry it’s kinda loud in here,” you laughed as you lied through your teeth. Maybe it would've been easier to focus if he didn't look so good tonight. Casual clothes were Graves’ strong suit, something about seeing him outside of his typical tactical gear made your knees weak. Tonight he had a baby blue polo shirt paired with dark wash jeans and a tan belt to tie it all together. The top 2 buttons on the polo were undone making it hard for you to maintain eye contact. 

“Wanna step outside?” he leaned closer, lips grazing your ear, his stubble just barely scratching your cheek. The sudden proximity to the Commander made your heart stop. You nodded and followed him out onto the patio, the night air was cool, a nice contrast to how humid the bar inside was. “Better?” he asked while sipping his beer.

“Much better,” smiling back as you both sat on the cheap patio furniture. Graves stood up, pulling his chair closer to yours before sitting back down. His leg brushed yours as he readjusted, taking another sip of his beer. 

“Good,” he chuckled, his hand squeezing your thigh lightly. Instead of pulling his hand away, he let it rest on your leg. He dragged his fingertips up and down slowly, his eyes were fixed on you as a small smirk danced across his face. “You okay?” He knew damn well what he was doing. 

Was this Phillip finally reciprocating the feelings you had been keeping a secret for so long? Or was he just toying with you? It was impossible to tell. Maybe the drink you had been nursing all night was finally taking effect because a new wave of confidence rushed through you. Instead of being unsure of the newfound attention, you leaned into it, upping the attention the Commander was receiving. 

“I'm okay,” you smiled faintly at him. Your eyes flickered down to Phillip’s hand which was still tracing incoherent shapes on your skin. The muffled noise from the bar was the only sound as silence fell between the two of you. Slowly, you picked up Phillip’s hand off your thigh and placed in it yours. Holding his hand, you tilted his palm up and began tracing the lines along his palm. 

Graves cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure, “Havin’ fun there?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed back, enjoying the closeness of the Commander. A few more minutes of silence passed between the two of you. Time seemed to be at a stand still as you had zoned out just enjoying Graves presence with you. Tonight it was something different as it had felt like there was no pressure, just you and Phillip and no one else. 

“Hey,” Phillip slipped his hand out of your grasp and snuck it under your chin tilting it up slightly. “How about dinner? Tomorrow?” he phrased it like a question, but you both knew it was more of a statement. 

“I could do dinner,” 

“Good, good,” he whispered under his breath, his hand moving to cup your face. Phillip leaned in, placing a kiss to your forehead. He settled back into his chair, taking your hand in his. His fingers rubbing along your knuckles. 

“You better not be messing with me Graves,” as excited as you were, the little voice in your head was nervous. What if this was a game to him?

“Trust me doll, I’m not messin’ with you,”

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

be nice to me pls i haven’t written for phillip in a min idk how to end fics LMFAO im sorry

[plutonianeris]

ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀᴅ: accepting where people see you as the villain ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

this is a general reading & for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. scroll through the images & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling. 🖤

♱☾pile one☽

sometimes it feels like you can never win because one way or another, theres always someone criticizing you. People are nervous around you and its not necessarily anything you do. I got a lot of scorpio and plutonian energy in my cards/ the oracles. People in your daily life make you seem like the villain because either 1) you don't share too much of you and they are craving for access or 2) you are equally as suspicious of them. Regardless, people can be kind of intimidated of you (but never publically admit it, more like hide it behind shady comments). lol the lyrics of the song playing right now in the background "make everyone hate me if that makes you feel better, your girl talks shit about me just to feel better" as you keep climbing up in your career/ reputation youre going to feel like a lot of more people are judging you. Accept that you cant control that. And if it makes you feel any better, it is envy/ hate but its to hide some jealousy and even some admiration as well.

♡‧₊˚🕸 TIP JAR ‹𝟹 ∙ 🕷

♱☾pile two☽

I heard "theres just no way in hell that this is all on me" the people you live with/ family (and in your hometown) could see you as the villain in those moments you are trying to express your emotions. You could get called being too "emotional" I heard "crybaby" or maybe even being called a hothead & impulsive when you try to talk to your loved ones about how you feel. You could be known for having a short temper or being very emotional (like the type to cry after seeing someone in pain or reading a sad news article). In reality, people close to you can get irritated with how emotionally intelligent you are. When you're angry/ upset about something your'e always determined to do something about it, and you start off by allowing yourself to feel your feelings. Accept that some people dont want to make room for you needs/ emotions. But then know when its time to refuse to give people more access to your energy and make sure you are meeting ur own needs. I just heard "I am worth more than these poor experiences you are trying to give to me"

♡‧₊˚🕸 TIP JAR ‹𝟹 ∙ 🕷

♱☾pile three☽

you could find that people in your neighborhood, apartment complex, or even the school you go to tend to turn you into the villain on the forms you communicate/ ask questions/ express yourself intellectual point of view. If you have siblings you could find that you get into frequent fights or bicker a lot. Youre eager to learn new things and that could throw other people off as you rush past them, ready to know more about the world. this pile reminds me of a curious child lol touching the "dont touch" sign. Out of all the piles this one feels more playful. Its like people suck their teeth and roll their eyes but youre so resilient. you bounce back in a way that feels so efortless that they dont stay too mad. its like even the people that see you as "the villian" at times are still secretly rooting for you? idk lol this pile was weird but also kind of endearing. Again, it reminds me of the way a child falls and quickly gets back up. Even if people judge you, you know that you have to keep it pushing. I just heard "in 5 years... shit, in 5 weeks none of this bs is gonna matter"

♡‧₊˚🕸 TIP JAR ‹𝟹 ∙ 🕷

♱☾pile four☽

people you get into close relationships with (friends, but especially lovers or even your crushes) can make you the villain for your "eccentricity." this pile gave off big Aquarius energty (it reminds me of those with aspects between venus and uranus). lol like your beauty and ways of being are very unique or quirky. honestly, those qualities (your forms of dress, taste in music, the weird things you say, random facts u know) are actually what makes people interested in you and start crushing on you. but then at the same time they judge you for not conforming to societal norms. It's like "I think you are unique and brave, but god cant you just be normal sometimes?" thats annoying! My advice to you is don't EVER let people treat you as if spending time with you was a burden and don't let people pick and choose when to hang out with you. watch out for when you have big groups of friends, you could find that 1 or 2 could be hating behind your back. You always stand out in the crowd and sometimes that leaves insecure people with a sour taste in their mouth. You could be someone that has a different religion/ ethnicity/ background in comparison from the rest of your peers (whether it be at school or work). lol alien superstar is playing in the background rn "don't ever waste your time trying to compete with me... no one else in this world can think like me'

♡‧₊˚🕸 TIP JAR ‹𝟹 ∙ 🕷

© plutonianeris🕸️🕷️

[cubeshapedlemon]

Hellooo, could you please write cooper Howard x trans!male reader? Ftm, so he/him, maybe like a bit of smut and I’d like to think that it would catch him off guard because reader passes pretty well, thanks! 🫶🏼

hey! i really apologize for how long this took my excuse is definitely something that i definitely am saying and definitely not some bs that really just means i was lazy. i hope you like it! im sorry its definitely not my best but enjoy if you can!

Way Back Home

A grody bar isn't usually where you expect to find worthwhile company, it is where you would expect to find one murderous gunslinger, turns out they can be one in the same.

☆ ☆ ☆

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Trans Masc Reader

3.4k words

cw/tags: trans male reader, cannon typical violence, improper binding techniques (mentioned), bottom growth, oral sex (tm receiving), piv, unprotected sex, pet names, implied childhood abuse, implied transphobia if you really squint (not by the ghoul), alcohol, smoking

☆ ☆ ☆

authors note: hey! again i apologize for everything stated under the ask but yeah! please lmk if i made any spelling or grammar mistakes or if i missed something in the tags. Also don't translate repost or copy this fanfic anywhere without my permission. thank you for requesting and thank you for reading!

The poor excuse for a bar you've found yourself in certainly has an interesting vibe. Tension between groups is so thick it chokes anyone that enters. Ghouls and other mutants aren't exactly popular around these parts, so when the bar owner decided to start letting them in to increase profits, the local population wasn't exactly thrilled.

Though you could care less, just passing through for a drink and whatever interactions come your way. There's no shame in that, just because the world is a blistering hellscape of barbarians, bullets, and blood doesn't mean a guy can't blow off some steam every once and a while. Though tonight, no one seemed particularly interesting.

That is of course until he roamed in. You had heard about him, the fearless gun-slinging ghoul. Wandering the wasteland and making more caps in a month than most people see in a lifetime. He certainly had a reputation. It was very clear that he knew.

Narrow hips swinging lazily as he walks in, eyes roving over the crowd of patrons, all of whom now had quieted down their conversations by at least one notch. His scarred lips pull back into a cocky smirk, tongue tip curling to lick his time and tobacco-stained teeth. Huffing out what looked to be a chuckle, he refocuses, walking towards the bar.

His gaze fixates on you, challenging you almost, it doesn't falter once, only breaking to give you a curt nod, turning to wave over the bartender to order. If you were honest, you would admit what the intensity of that eye contact did to you. The waves of desire shooting downwards. But there is no place for honesty in the wasteland.

Taking a sip of your drink, attempting to still your nerves through the burn of it, you hear an over exaggerated sigh next to you. “Now, I'd love to chit chat, but we both know why I'm here. Don't we?” Of course, it really was only a matter of time. “I believe we do,” you say non-committedly, turning to look at the bounty hunter.

“Well that certainly saves us some time now,” he declares, turning his head only slightly, eyes still straight ahead. “Your dear ol’ boss ain't too happy with you, put a pretty penny on your head in fact.” Straightening your posture, your hand discreetly slides to your holster, ready to go at a moment's notice. “So I've heard,” you acknowledge, tone flat and untrusting. The ghoul certainly was no angel. It would be foolish to not be prepared for the worst.

“See now, I don't have any interest in killin’ you,” he clarifies, “For now at least.” Finally turning to meet your gaze once again. Surprise befalls your face, which he notices, but does not comment on. “I need ya’ for somethin’ else.” Oh. “While I can think of plenty a’ reasons to keep a pretty boy like you in my company,” He comments, hazel eyes running up and down your body. “You're particularly useful to me in terms of your former boss.”

Clearing your throat, you decide to engage with him, anything you could do to not get on his bad side at this point would be to your advantage. Though it's not time to show our cards. He doesn't need to know everything. “And how is that? I was never anything but a grunt with a gun for that asshole,” You say, the lie sounding pretty convincing if you were to say so.

A small smirk falls on his face, like he knows. It's so small you almost missed it. “Asshole is right,” he says, pulling a pack of cigarettes and matches out of a pocket in his duster. “That piece of shit owes me ‘bout 600 caps.” he grits out, striking a match against his boot and lighting the cigarette that is now delicately clenched between his lips.

“Anyhow,” he begins, inhaling. “He wants you back alive, so you get the pleasure of bein’ a ‘bargaining’ chip and pack mule,” he laughs out, flicking the ash onto the bartop. Wow this guy is confident, “Yeah? What's in it for me?” Taking another puff from his cigarette he grins, “What's in it for you huh?” he barks out a short laugh, “Well Casanova, you get to stay alive.” I mean what could you really expect?

☆ ☆ ☆

By about the 6th day on the road he had gotten decently comfortable, allowing you to have your hands unbinded, and even chatting a little bit. Not that you exactly learned anything from those interactions, anything important that is. Pretty much the only things you managed to deduce was he was a fan of old movies, chems, and alcohol. The old movies thing might be a stretch though, while he did reference them he never gave a true opinion.

Now, the end of the 7th day, setting down for the night, you search through your pack, hoping that there was a crushed can of something or other at the bottom. It was unusual for you to be so low on food. Usually replenishing supplies every 4 days. But of course, you haven't gotten to do that. Ghoul's clearly don't need as much food and water as smoothskins. At least this one didn't. You had only seen him eat and drink a few times over the past week. Even then, it was small and he didn't seem to enjoy it very much. Anyway, he clearly was in no hurry to stock up on food.

Which ultimately is the reason your rummage had left you empty handed. Releasing a frustrated groan, you drop your pack on the ground again. The hollow thud of fabric accompanying your discontented huff. “What are you bitchin’ about now?” The ghoul asks, you could almost hear the eyeroll in his question. Looking up at him, you don't feel the need to dignify him with an answer. Leaning back on the rock behind you, you look at him half lidded. Clearly not understanding your intent to be frustrated and nonchalant, your stomach growls, spelling out his answer.

“I forget how often you smoothies have to eat,” he says, almost to himself. Rolling your eyes, you focus on what he is doing. Hand gripping his knife, he places it over the fire, a piece of what looks to be rad rat meat speared on it. Turning it over steadily, he roasts it. The once raw, gamey meat slowly becoming edible. Not that he particularly cares about that, usually he'll just eat it fresh and bloody. Must have just felt like something different.

His usually piercing gaze is at a soft focus, intent on the task of cooking, but almost peaceful. The swirls of gold in his eyes become more pronounced in the firelight. Now that you can focus on him, as far as ghouls go, he's pretty handsome. Well, actually as far as people go, he is. You never really fancied yourself a ghoul fucker, but he just had something about him.

After a few minutes, he pulls his knife away from the fire. Plopping the hunk of meat onto a handkerchief on the ground in front of him, he begins slicing it up. Chopping up the more undesirable bits off and setting them aside, as well as slicing the bulk into strips. Bunching the handkerchief portion in one hand, and the undesirables in the other, he walks over to you. Popping what seems to be a limb into his mouth, crunching as he bites down. “Here,” he says, dropping the handkerchief onto your lap, walking back to his original spot and sitting.

You must have made a sound of surprise, or at least you must have looked surprised. Either way the ghoul feels the need to make a reasoning for his decision. His mouth full, he speaks again. “What? Can't have you goin’ ‘round passin’ out on me.” Responding with a small hum, you pluck a slice from your lap, placing it in your mouth. While sustenance was sustenance, it didn't mean it was the best. The tough meat forcing you to rip it with your teeth to make it more manageable.

Out of your peripheral you notice him staring, gaze locked onto your face, and more specifically your mouth. Running his tongue across his teeth, his gaze roves down your body before removing itself entirely. Tipping his hat down to cover his eyes, he leans back, getting comfortable.

He sure is interesting.

☆ ☆ ☆

About halfway into the next day you finally get to the all-too familiar settlement. Rusted chain link fence and scrap-built home looking all the same. A spike of anxiety pulls at your throat in seeing it again. Memories flooding back of the cuts and bruises sustained in that house. For as long as you could remember.

The freshest of them, now only a memory. Scar tissue thick against your fingertips as you rub against them absentmindedly. A push on the back pulls you from your haze, “Come on now’ we ain't got all day,” The ghoul reminds, his tone is gruff, like he wants to get this over with already. Before your brain gets the message, your legs do. Walking to the door, two grunts standing guard. With a nod from the ghoul they open the door.

Walking a few paces inside, you quickly come face to face with him. A dangerous sneer pulls over his face as he sees you. Dark, beady eyes locking onto yours. “Hello, son,” he says, gritting out the last word like a mockery. “It’s about time you came home.” In your peripherals you see the ghoul subtlety raise a brow at that, but makes no other indication he noticed. Your ‘father’ slowly moves his gaze from you to the ghoul.

“So you don't just kill everything in your path,” he laughs out, “You actually followed my instructions to keep him alive, that's certainly a first for you.” His words attempt to pierce the thick skin of the ghoul, but they easily fall flat as the ghoul just gives him a grin. “While this back n’ forth we have is real cute n’ all I think it's ‘bout time you pay your dues.” Stepping closer to him, the ghoul places a heavy hand on the back of your neck, gripping the slightly grown-out hair at the nape. His grasp tightens to an almost painful level, the pressure releasing slightly when he pulls your head back, neck bearing towards him.

“See, I've grown a little attached to this one. I really was wonderin’ if I should bring him back at all.” As the last sentence ends his gaze is pulled to your exposed neck, before flicking back to your father with a deeper intensity than you have ever seen. “You haven't been very good at paying your bills,” he laughs out, releasing your neck with a push forward. Lazily waltzing forward he comes to what seems to be about a 5 foot gap between himself, and your father. “You give me, double, you get to keep on breathin’,” As the ghoul's words sink in, you see your fathers fists tighten, the guards in the room readying themselves for his signal.

Without a second thought, your father gives the signal. Before you can even blink, shots ring out in the room. It takes you a moment to even process what happened, but once you do, you don't know what to do. About ten feet ahead of you your father, or what used to be him, has slumped to the ground in a pathetic lump. Next to him, his top two men. When your ears stop ringing, you hear the ghoul. “Come on now, move your ass! I ain't got all day,” he says to one of the other guards in the room, gun pointed to his head. “Unless you wanna join spaghetti bolognese over there, I would suggest you get me what I'm owed.”

Clearly not wanting to risk it, the guard quickly collects a bag of caps, placing it in his hand. Snatching the bag, the ghoul walks back to you, grabbing you by the neck again to force you out the door with him. “Come on now pretty boy, I got better shit to do then wait around here all day.”

☆ ☆ ☆

It has now been a few months since you had started traveling with the ghoul. It had surprised you originally when he made you travel with him still, instead of just dropping you and going on his way. But at this point you could not imagine a different life. While you guys aren't exactly close, you certainly trusted each other to an extent. At this point you had been through many things together, and you had truly proved your usefulness to earn your keep.

But even through this, that one lingering feeling always stuck. The ache that had been there since the first time he had looked at you. He must have felt it to, with the way that he looked at you. It truly could only be described as erotic in some contexts. But of course, with the good came the bad. He made you angry like no other, his stubbornness could break even the most hard-headed opponent. Right now was a great example of that in fact.

A rad storm raging on outside the rickety walls of the shelter you had found yourself in, he still found it a great time to try and win the gold metal in bitching and complaining. “That storm ain't shit, we coulda’ out run it if you weren't so goddamn slow.” he said, his words having a familiar sharpness but, at this point, no real bite. “I wouldn't be so slow if we weren't walking for the past 3 days straight!” you half-yell back, he laughs at that, head tossed back slightly. “You smoothies are so goddamn weak, I could be the next town over if I finally got rid of your ass.” His tone is low and mocking.

“Weak huh? You wanna say that to my fucking face? You can't work without me.” you say back, frustration truly spilling over into your tone. “Oh would I ever,” the ghoul says, walking over to you. His gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that pins you to the wall. As he closes in on you, frame practically pinning you to the wall, he leans in even closer, his face inches from yours. Before either of you can tell who initiated, your lips attach. A groan falling from his scarred lips, he works his heavy grasp up your body, eventually ending on your jaw. Forcing you even closer somehow, his tongue works its way into your mouth, the metallic sting of blood and tobacco invading your senses, not that you could manage to care.

Using his other hand, he drags it down your front, undoing your belt, and slipping his hand down your pants. He pulls his lips from you in surprise at what he finds. His fingers drag across your folds collecting moisture. Moving upwards again, his fingers trail across your bottom growth before pulling out of your pants. You breath in shakily, knowing that's not what he was expecting, you wait very impatiently for him to say something.

With a small grin he looks at his fingers, your wetness dripping from them, and then back to you. “Well cowpoke, I certainly wasn't expecting that. But I'm sure you'll taste just as good drippin’ on my tongue as you woulda’ felt down my throat.” With that last word, he slips his fingers into his mouth, releasing an honest, and gratuitous moan at your taste. Removing his fingers, he swiftly drops to a knee, tugging your boots, pants, and boxers down. Placing one leg on his raised knee, he opens you up for him. His gaze running from your eyes all the way down to your center. After taking you in for a moment, he hungrily attaches himself to your core.

Flattening his tongue he collects your wetness, once again moaning at the flavor. After a few more licks, he suctions his lips around your bottom growth. With light suction he luxuriously wraps his tongue around it, his usual ferocity, somehow not present. While his gaze locks onto yours, you see his eyelids flutter slightly. In the time that you have known him, you had never known the ghoul to be a patient man, but in this moment, he wanted to take his time. And oh gods above, he was.

Rolling his tongue over your core again, he slips the pink muscle inside, pressing against that perfect spot inside of you, but he removes it quickly, much to your dismay. releasing a frustrated groan, you grab the back of his neck, his hat tipping off and falling to the ground in the process. He seems to get a kick out of that frustration, now retreating entirely from your core in favor of nipping at your thighs. Your frustration growing, you push his head back. Looking at him now he truly looks better than ever, his face seems to be something akin to flushed, the lower half of it covered in you. “Come on now, I don't have all day.”

He chuckles at your use of the phrase, echoing the many times he has said it over the past months. Giving one last teasing nip to your thigh, his fingers now running across your wetness, slipping two in at once. The sudden fullness catching you off guard, you steady yourself against him. Giving you only a moment, he quickly sets a brutal pace. The tips of his middle and ring fingers brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. The waves of pleasure begin hitting harder and harder, the sensation building in your lower half.

With this increase, your moans only grow, echoing throughout the shelter, the sounds of the rad storm now unimportant. Noticing this uptick, he reattaches his lips to your bottom growth, the soft kitten licks from earlier now replaced by firmer, more desperate pressure. With this addition the waves soon become sparks, the edge coming into sight. “Fuck- Im gonna-” you sob. He only nods in acknowledgement, continuing his ministrations. Finally allowing yourself, you fall off the edge. Pleasure bursting forth in a way it never has before. Your legs quaking and clenching as his motions stay consistent throughout, working you through it. He only stops once you push him away.

Pulling his fingers out, he laps at the residual wetness, giving you a moment to gather yourself. As he does so, his other hand presses against the front of his pants, which you now notice are significantly tighter than before. His hips buck forward into his own hand. Without warning he gets up, wrapping your legs around his torso he walks you to a countertop a few feet away, placing you on it. His lips connect themselves with yours again, his dominating presence becoming even more clear as he tears your shirt down the center, buttons ripped off, the sound of them hitting the floor only distant background noise.

His hands drag their way up your torso, taking a moment to appreciate everywhere they find themselves, the patch of hair leading to your core, the raised scarring on your waist. His fingers even taking a moment to run the gauze that binds your chest. Tearing his lips away from yours, they move down your neck leaving bite marks and deep bruises in their wake. With his other hand he releases himself from his pants.

He gives himself a few pumps, yet quite impatiently, he leads himself to your core, pressing inside. The wetness allows this to happen with little to no resistance. He fills you completely, setting a harsh pace. His hips slamming into yours as he steadies himself, wrapping an arm around your waist for leverage. Releasing a groan of his own, he tilts his head back, taking everything in. His eyes are half lidded, and focused on where your bodies connect. Still being sensitive from your last orgasm, you feel the pressure build sooner, clenching around his length he grips onto you even harder. “Fuck- I ain't gonna last long if you keep doin’ that.”

Smiling to yourself you do just that, one hand going to your center, pushing yourself closer and closer with each stroke. Purposely clenching more than normal, teasing him closer as well. “I'm serious doll, I won't,” he warns, though he doesn't change his pace. “I know, I won't last either,” you gasp out, reassuring him. With a few more thrusts, the waves come crashing down. He soon follows after you, releasing inside of you. He steadies himself on the counter top before removing himself from you, and tucking himself back into his pants, grabbing a clean rag and tossing it to you to clean yourself up with.

Lets hope this shelter has some RadAway somewhere…

[mellowwillowy]

Content: Eldritch horror bs, subtle yandere, GN reader

You didn't mean to get yourself involved with a serial killer. You didn't mean to enter his unlocked hotel room. You didn't mean to catch him strangling that woman.

But one thing you really mean was pleading for him to spare your life. You'd feign ignorance if it meant he'd let you go. And he did let you go under the condition that you must never turn down his messages and calls. The two of you exchanged phone numbers with the woman choking for air while you trembled until your teeth gnawed on your mouth. The two of you were under his mercy and only one survived the night.

He ushered the drunk you out of his room, giving you one last wink. You immediately ran to the room next to his and placed your ear on the wall, the alcohol didn't hinder you from hearing the woman's groans. You couldn't have heard anything because of how thick the wall was and even if you did, you would only think of it as a loud sexual moans.

But you could hear it clearly now. The nails scratching the carpeted walls and digging inside his wrists, the gagged mouth, the frantic breathing, and the image of the woman's scared face flashed into your brain clearly for a split second.

You jumped away from the wall and hid yourself under the blanket. Was it the alcohol and drugs taking a toll on you? You squeezed your eyes tight and counted back from 100, wishing it was just a fleeting nightmare or hallucination from the narcotics.

But it wasn't. You saw the recently added contact in your phone. 'Nyarla'.

It wasn't hard at all to remember his appearance. You remembered his one-pointed fang the most.

Suddenly your phone vibrated and it showed a text from Nyarla.

'Finally awake? Make sure to check out before 2 PM.'

You looked at your surroundings, frantically searching for any sort of cameras in the room, and found nothing. There was nothing yet the room felt so cold and damp. It felt like the room was suffocating you. Your stomach churned and you rushed to the toilet, throwing up last night's remnants. Alcohol, narcotics, and guilt. You should have called the hotel staffs or the authorities.

Another text came in,

'Didn't you promise me to always reply to my messages?'

You frantically texted him back. The conversation went on until a hotel staff rang your room's doorbell. They were here for clean up. And judging from their direction, they should have cleaned the crime scene next to you. Your phone buzzed but you paid no mind to it.

You swallowed before asking the staff in a hushed, low voice, catching their attention from their phone.

"Have you by any chance cleaned the room next to me?"

The staff cocked their head to the side and glanced at it.

"Yes."

Even though you couldn't see their face properly because of their head cap and face mask, you found their golden gaze eerie. Their focus returned to their phone again and you wiped the sweat that was on your chin. Another buzz.

You paid no mind to it and asked the staff one more time,

"... has the guest next door checked out?"

Another buzz.

"I think you should check your phone, it won't stop vibrating."

You wished you could walk out of the room right now if not for the cart and them blocking your way. They showed you their phone's screen, a conversation with your name on it. They sent another text and your phone buzzed.

"Going back against your promise now?" They took off their face mask and you could see the pointed fang.

Nyarla has sent you three messages.

Just before you could make a hasty escape from him, something caught your ankle and it slammed you back inside the room. You thought you would break your tailbone but it was awfully kind of him to slam you gently on the bed.

Slam...? You peeked at the thing restraining your ankle and it was a black, liquidlike thing with eyes all over it.

You looked back at him, now dressed in the suit you saw last night.

"I suppose new things like you always need a bit of teaching to understand just how heavy the word 'promise' is."

The moment you blinked your eyes, you were already somewhere else. The bed was cold ground and the only source of light was his golden eyes. The eyes on his limbs.

"I juuuust loooooove new things like you, so fun to be played with, like a chew toy."

Apparently, this weird handsome man found you worthy of his attention and time instead of having you shredded into his dinner.

[musicofthenightphantomoftheopera]

So I'm back on my percy Jackson bs again and I saw this one post on Tiktok claiming that Solangelo is "Klance Coded" and I simply had to laugh because that couldn't be any further from the truth...

Klance is Red and Blue, Fire and Water type polar opposites in both personality and aesthetics

However, not every polar opposite style ship is "Red and Blue Coded" there's also Sun and Moon, ( Or in Solangelo's case, Sun and Star) Light and Darkness.

so basically, and this might be controversial, but I know those who will get it will get it, what I'm trying to say is.....

Solangelo is NOT Klance Coded.

Solangelo is SORIKU Coded

I can go into heavy detail, and I will!

Will is definitely a lot like Sora in that even when surrounded by so much bad happening or even when he's going through his own stuff, he still puts on a smile and pretends nothing is wrong. of course to his own detriment and also has self sacrificing tendancies. Overworking himself to heal others to the point of exhaustion and even down to the self esteem issues. Sora sees himself alone as worthless without his friends ("My Friends Are My Power") and Will feeling like Healing is the only thing he's good for since he didn't inherit any of the other natural talents most of his other siblings have as demigod children of Apollo. And the incident with Octavian probably didn't help either. They also have somewhat of a hero complex and struggle with dealing with the fact that they can't save everyone. Sora broke a major taboo in order to bring kairi back in kh3 because he didn't want her to die, and Will being a medic that had been through not 1 but 2 LITERAL WARS, one in which he lost several of his siblings and of course being a medic in general, no matter how hard you try or how good at your job, it's just a fact that you cannot save everyone that's put in your care. Also, Both Sora and Will are heavily associated with Light both literally and figuratively

And then we got Nico, who just like Riku was lost for so long in lieral and metaphorical darkness, both trapped in metaphorical labyrinths of their inner turmoil of thier feelings, their pasts, their trauma (wether it be losing someone they care about, or being abused and manipulated at the hands of a shifty adult figure for their own gain) , and feeling that they have no place of belonging. only to be brought back by the people that care about them the most and through their own self determination and strength. And also both characters associated with darkness literally and as a concept.

Riku and Nico also have a teensy bit of Angel character symbolism with Nico's last name being Angel in italian and Riku's original keyblade Way To Dawn having both a monster/demon wing and Angel wing at the hand guard and for the "teeth" of the keyblade

you could also argue Riku could technically be seen as a "Fallen Angel" type character since he was originally chosen to be a keyblade wielder by Terra but lost that right when he fell to darkness hence why the keyblade went to Sora instead, then Riku spent the next several games on a very angsty redemption arc.

And of course, Nico and Riku aren't strictly associated with darkness. Nico is a son of hades, a prince of the underworld, The Ghost King. However, he isn't all doom and gloom. He's still just a teenage boy that's secretly a giant nerd and is actually a a good kid.

Riku as well, has the power to wield both the powers of light and darkness and it was Riku's light inside his heart that sora reached out to that dark and stormy night on the beaches of destiny island that let him wield the keyblade in the first place

And don't even get me started on how Riku is 100% gay coded (don't beleive me? look up the "Riku Is Gay" video on youtube, grab a snack and enjoy. you're gonna be there a hot minute)

Both characters in both medias are opposites to each other but both also compliment and balance each other out. But not like Fire and Water. Like Light and Darkness. Not only hat, but the dynamic between Sora and Riku and between Nico and Will are kinda similar. not identical by any means, but enough to where I definitely noticed it.

If anyone else has anything to add to this, let me know! I had this lightbulb a few nights ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 12

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major. Some kissing. Implied Smut.

Word Count: 4,418

A/N: Here's Ch. 12. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

A/N 2: Within this chapter there's a reference to a popular waltz written in 1891, called After the Ball. I've included a link to a YouTube version so you can have an idea what it sounds like. The title of the song will be the link, within the body of the chapter.

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Early the next morning, Dean woke to Y/N's restless sighs and her constant shifting beside him. It seemed like she might be having less than pleasant dreams.

Cupping her jaw, he tried to soothe her with a soft kiss to the forehead. It worked and she stopped moving around so much. But a small frown still puckered her brow. Dean pulled her a little closer against him and she sighed softly as her face relaxed back into a calm sleep.

He hoped it wasn't him and their fight that was troubling her dreams. God knew he hadn't slept at all the night before; instead he spent all night missing her soft presence beside him.

He was getting a little too used to having her there, a little too used to having her in his life all together. She was clearly still up in the air about whether she was going to say yes or no to him.

I should create a little distance, just in case, he thought, stay home for one whole day and night. I need to be prepared for the possibility of her leaving in four days time.

But when he thought of her leaving, he felt a pit start to open in his stomach. And the idea of spending another one of their possibly limited days and nights away from her, made him start to feel panicked, and he absolutely hated that feeling.

He gritted his teeth. Definitely need some distance.

Y/N shifted again, burying her face in his shoulder, her soft sigh making a mockery of his warning to himself. He leaned down to kiss her temple and then her forehead.

She moaned lightly and rolled onto her back. Ignoring his body's response to the moan, he leaned down to place a soft, chaste kiss to her lips.

Like something from a fairytale, Y/N's eyes fluttered open and she stared at him a moment before her lips curved into a warm smile and she stretched, reaching her arms up over her head and giving another, much longer moan that was simply too hard for Dean to ignore.

So as she finished stretching, Dean rolled on top of her, bracing his weight on his forearms, and capturing her lips in a deep, probing, and very un-fairytale like kiss.

A soft whimper escaped her throat and he instinctively rolled his hips against the soft heat at the apex of her thighs and groaned deeply. Sometimes he wanted her so badly he could hardly breathe.

Sometimes? His inner voice mocked him.

As he ended the kiss, he pulled back and studied the lines of her face, marveling yet again at just how beautiful she truly was.

Y/N was slightly breathless as she gazed up at him.

“Well, good morning.” She said, her voice husky with sleep and desire.

“Merry Christmas.” Dean responded.

Y/N chuckled. “And a very, merry Christmas to you.”

He dipped his head and kissed her again, and again, and soon he was lost in the way she clung to him, the way her breath hitched when he slipped his hand between their bodies and stroked her, the way his name fell from her lips like drops of honey, sweet and utterly delicious.

Distancing himself could come later, he decided - tomorrow. After all, it was Christmas; he deserved the gift of Y/N.

Eventually, a long time later, they actually got up and started their day.

Y/N wandered into the bathroom doorway as he began to lather up his shaving soap with his horse hair brush and then apply it to his cheeks.

“So, I'm assuming you've also been invited to Christmas dinner?” She asked.

He grinned at her, with half his face lathered. “The Christmas dinner that's being prepared in my kitchen and served in my dining room?” He chuckled, going back to spreading the soap across his face. “Yeah, I got an invite.”

He finished covering his face and turned to look at her. “I thought we'd get there around one o’clock, since dinner starts at two?”

He picked up his straight razor and slowly dragged it across his cheek, removing the soap, and the whiskers with it.

“Oh I don't know if -” Y/N stopped as he took another swipe with the razor. “Aren't you afraid you'll cut yourself with that thing?”

Caught off guard by the question, it took Dean a moment to answer. He chuckled again and shook his head before continuing. “Not really, no. Been shaving since I was sixteen, I'm kind of used to it by now.”

He rinsed off the blade in the sink and then held it out to her.

“Wanna try?”

Y/N shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not! I'm not going to be responsible for scarring that beautiful face.”

Dean scoffed and laughed, taking the next swipe with the razor. “So, what don't you know about?” He said, referring to her earlier, truncated statement.

“Oh.” Y/N shook her head. “I don't know if we should go to dinner together. At the same time I mean. Won't that be a little obvious that we're…staying together?”

Dean dropped his hand as he was about to scrape off more whiskers, turning his head to fix Y/N with an incredulous look.

“Sweetheart, they're staying in my house and I've barely been home once since I moved you into this hotel.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “They know.”

He had to shake his head at Y/N's predictable blush.

She shrugged. “I suppose, but…”

Dean sighed. “Look, at the very least, they know we've been spending time together, right? So, is it really so strange that I'd offer to pick you up and drive you over?”

Y/N shook her head and Dean nodded. “Exactly.”

He went back to shaving as Y/N continued to watch him from the doorway. After a few minutes of silence, just as he was finishing up, Y/N cleared her throat.

“Can I ask you about something I didn't get the chance to last night?”

Dean grinned as he rinsed off his razor and left it open to dry fully.

“Uh oh. Do you have more phrases you want to know the meaning of?”

Y/N shook her head firmly, turning bright red, and Dean laughed as he bent to the sink to rinse away the last of the shaving soap.

Taking a deep breath Y/N spoke softly. “No, I was wondering…what happens when you…when you get married?”

Dean froze for a moment, the water rushing down the drain before he slowly stood straight and shut off the tap.

He could feel his stomach sink to his toes and then lodge in his throat. He tried to keep his voice steady as he grabbed a towel.

“That won't happen.”

Y/N let out a small, humorless chuckle. “Oh, you say that now. But then one day you'll see some beautiful young debutante across a crowded ballroom and fall head over heels, sweep her off her feet and march her down the aisle.”

“No.” He said succinctly before burying his face in the towel and rubbing it briskly over his cheeks.

“But, how do you know that?”

He pulled the towel away and scowled at her. “Because I know.”

She opened her mouth to speak again, but he slashed his hand through the air, raising his voice.

“No enough, Y/N! That's not something you'll ever have to worry about, so just drop it.”

The silence was loud between them as Y/N nodded.

“Alright.” She said softly.

The look on her face made Dean feel rotten for shouting at her, but he could still feel the panic rising and he needed to shut it down immediately.

He rubbed at his cheeks with the towel again before tossing it aside and walking over to her in the doorway. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms and bent forward to kiss her briefly.

“Why don't you ring for breakfast?”

Y/N nodded again and offered a small smile. “Alright. Though I feel a little like Ebenezer Scrooge, making the staff work on Christmas morning.”

Dean chuckled and nodded towards the end of the bed.

“My billfold is in the inside pocket of my suit jacket that you passionately tossed onto the floor last night.” He said, appreciating the pink that tinged her cheeks at that reminder.

“Grab it and pull out as much cash as you want for a nice Christmas bonus for the staff. Ease our Scrooge-ish guilt.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Alright. Eggs and sausages for you?”

Dean nodded. “Perfect.”

As Y/N moved off to get them breakfast, Dean took a deep breath and forced calm through his body.

It was Christmas; he just wanted to enjoy the day and not let the subject of marriage sour everything.

With that in mind, he forced a smile as he walked back into the room.

“Oh, and a coffee, black.”

***

Y/N leaned back from the table as she finished off the last of her honey-drizzled croissant and licked her finger tips with ravenous delight.

“That was so delicious I could eat a dozen of them myself!"

Dean chuckled and leaned over to thumb away some of the flaky pastry that had stuck to her bottom lip before kissing her softly.

He pulled away, licking his lips. “Mmm…yep, delicious.” He said with a gentle smile.

His green eyes radiated warmth as they stared into hers and Y/N felt her insides turn to mush. She lowered her gaze; she couldn't keep believing those looks.

Yes, Dean liked her, he was obviously attracted to her, and seemed to enjoy spending time with her. But that was where things ended for him.

He'd been perfectly clear about his obvious disdain for the idea of marrying her. She'd merely mentioned the subject of marriage and he'd angrily shouted her down.

It didn't take a genius to understand the rejection in that anger. She wouldn't bring it up again. She didn't need to have her heart pulverized any further.

She loved him and he liked her. And that was the end of it.

She smiled at him now and pushed away from the table. “I got you something for Christmas.”

He grinned and nodded. “Me too.” He went to his greatcoat where it hung by the door and reached into an inside pocket.

Feeling happiness bubble up inside of her despite everything, Y/N went to the top drawer of her wardrobe where a small square box was wrapped and hidden.

They sat in the big green chairs, shifting them slightly so they faced each other a little more.

Y/N quickly passed Dean his gift. “Open it. I hope you like it. I picked it out two days ago and have been dying to give it to you. I'm bad at keeping secrets.”

Dean chuckled as he tore away the wrapping and lifted the lid of the flat box. He reached in to lift out a blue and green striped, silk tie.

“Y/N this is beautiful. But you spent too much money on it.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, it's fine.”

She'd bought it out of her own meager savings because it didn't feel right to buy something for Dean with his own money. It had been a little pricey, but it was worth it to see him looking at it so admiringly.

“So, you like it?”

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “It's great and I can wear it to dinner. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Y/N said shyly.

Dean passed her a medium-sized, square box; it was white, and wrapped with a silver bow.

“The bow got a little crushed in my pocket, sorry.” He said, trying to fluff it back up.

Y/N chuckled as she took the box from him. She untied the bow and quickly attached to the end of her braid.

“No, it's perfect.”

Dean smiled. “Suits you.” He nodded impatiently towards the box. “Open it.” He said, excitedly.

Y/N laughed. “Alright, alright.”

She lifted off the lid and pushed aside the shredded paper inside, trying to see what it was protecting.

Lying beneath the paper was a small glass ornament. Y/N picked it up slowly and gasped when she saw what it was.

“It's a snow globe.” Dean said, enthusiastically. “Well, sort of “ He finished with a grin.

It was a snow globe, except instead of snow falling, there were tiny, soft pink flower petals floating within the scene encased in glass.

There was a lush painted scene of a rolling green hill and a path lined with cherry trees rising up over it. Tiny, carved, painted people strolled under the trees, while off to the side, a huge fairway had been created in miniature.

There was a big ferris wheel and a carousel. Games were shown, ring toss, and bullseye. More tiny people played the games, forever frozen in their playful excitement.

The globe sat atop a beautiful, polished, cherry wood base, intricately carved with curling, trailing vines and leaves. And in the very middle of the base, in bold, black lettering, were the words “The Omaha World’s Fair. 1898.”

It was exquisitely created, a perfect miniature depiction of springtime and joy. It was so beautiful and so perfect a gift, that it brought tears to Y/N’s eyes which she rapidly blinked away. She looked up at Dean, and she must have seemed stunned because he gave her a puzzled look.

“Do you like it?”

Y/N could only nod as she tilted it upside down again to make the flower petals float. She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice even if she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the idyllic scene to see it.

“I figured it would have to do until we can get you to the real thing in a few years.” He said. Y/N finally turned her head to look back at him.

“It’s perfect, Dean. So, incredibly beautiful.”

“Good.” He said with a slightly shy smile. He gave a small shrug. “I saw it in a little curio shop window on my way to work a few days ago and I just had to stop and get it for you.”

He pointed towards the globe. “It’s a music box too. Look at the bottom.”

Y/N turned it over to find a winding mechanism on the bottom. She twisted it as far as it would go, and the popular waltz After the Ball, began playing in bright, sparkly notes.

As she flipped the ornament right side up, she gave a little squeal of delight, pointing to the fair scene inside. “The ferris wheel and carousel are moving!”

Y/N watched the intricate movements and the gentle fall of the petals and was completely and utterly entranced by the beauty and ingenuity on display.

Impulsively, she set down the globe on the table and launched herself into Dean’s arms.

“Oof!” He grunted as she leapt on him.

“I love it so much, Dean. Thank you.”

He nodded. “I'm glad. And you're very welcome.”

He bent his head and spent a moment kissing her senseless before sweeping her up into his arms and waltzing her around the room as she clung to his neck and giggled helplessly.

After a minute she was giddily dizzy, and as the last notes of the music box fell away she buried her face in Dean’s neck to try and stop the room spinning. He finally landed them back in the green chair and she dared to open her eyes.

She laid her hand against his jaw and pulled his lips down to hers. When she pulled away there were tears in her eyes again.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.” She told him truthfully.

Dean kissed the tip of her nose and then each corner of her mouth. “Good.” He said with a gentle smile. They sat cuddled in the chair for a little while, just enjoying each other’s warmth and closeness.

Finally Dean kissed the top of her head. “Hey, that storm last night blew away most of the freezing weather. Wanna take a walk? Might be the only time in New York when we get the sidewalks mostly to ourselves.”

Y/N laughed. “That sounds wonderful.”

Dean patted her hip and she climbed off of him. “Then let’s go.” He said with enthusiasm as he headed off to get dressed.

Y/N sank back onto the chair for a moment and picked up her gift, tilting it and winding it up again to watch the scene unfold, with Dean’s words echoing in her mind.

“I figured it would have to do until we can get you to the real thing in a few years.”

For a moment she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to dwell on the happy picture she conjured. She and Dean dressed in their finest spring fashions and strolling the fairways and cherry tree lined sidewalks. Sam and Jessica walked ahead of them, with Lucy between them, holding their hands. Their laughter was carried away by the soft breezes that pulled at her skirts and ruffled Lucy's hair.

The idyllic image melted away though, when she realized that even if she and Dean were still together in three and a half year’s time, they wouldn’t be strolling hand in hand, walking with his family, out in public at such a wholesome, family outing. If they went, they’d go after dark, and they’d go alone. Happy family time was not meant for mistresses.

She set the snow globe down along with her ridiculous fantasies, and moved off to get dressed.

***

“Miss Y/N!” As Y/N stepped through the door that the butler, Grant, held open, Lucy Winchester tackled her, wrapping her little arms as far as they could reach around Y/N’s legs, nearly bowling her over.

“Lucy!” Jessica called out as she and Sam came into the foyer. “For pity’s sake, let Miss Y/N through the door before you attack her.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing. “No, it’s fine. I’ve missed you too, little miss.” She said, patting the girl's dark hair.

Dean walked in behind Y/N and gave Lucy a pretend scowl. “What’s this? Are you saving any of those hugs for your uncle who has spoiled you so rotten this Christmas?”

Lucy squealed and immediately ran at Dean so he could throw her up in the air and then into his arms.

Jessica came forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek and a crooked grin. “Yes, a messenger delivered all her gifts yesterday. It was everything we could do to keep her from tearing into them immediately. You have indeed, utterly spoiled her. I mean, you always spoil her, but this might be considered obscene.”

Dean grinned. “It isn’t every Christmas that I actually get to see my little Luce on Christmas Day. Gotta make it special.” He then walked out of the entryway with Lucy still in his arms, playing a game where he pretended to drop her, just so he could catch her again, over and over.

Jessica just rolled her eyes indulgently and led them all into the parlor where the Christmas tree sat in all its majestic glory.

They relaxed in the parlor for almost an hour, visiting and chatting, about Sam's conference, about all the places Jessica and Lucy had been throughout New York.

Dean told them about taking Y/N skating. “Couldn't stay on her feet.” He tattled with a teasing grin.

Y/N blushed. “I told you, it's been a long time since I skated.”

“Well, you won't be able to use that excuse next time.” Dean teased her and everyone laughed.

When they finally went into the dining room for dinner, Y/N gasped. The table was laid out beautifully and extravagantly.

“Jessica! This is stunning.” she praised.

Jessica smiled. “Thank you, but I couldn't have possibly put this together without Mrs. Simmons” She turned to Dean. “You should count yourself lucky to have her as your housekeeper, and maybe consider giving her a raise.”

Dean grinned as he pulled out Y/N's chair and then sat beside her. “I'll do that.”

Everything was beyond delicious and Jessica reminded Dean to give his cook, Mrs. Plessi, a raise too.

The conversation flowed surprisingly easy. Y/N had been worried things would be stilted or awkward with everything that was going on. But the dinner was filled with laughter and happiness and Y/N was having a wonderful time, pushing aside all the negativity that wanted to bubble up inside her.

After dinner was finished and they were all fuller than they needed to be, they moved back into the parlor, so everyone could exchange gifts.

Y/N got a beautiful pair of kidskin gloves from Sam and Jessica and a crudely stitched, pincushion doll from Lucy. She suspected the little one had gotten a lot of help from Jessica, but the little girl's eyes shone proudly as Y/N exclaimed over how beautiful it was and how talented a seamstress Lucy was.

She spent the rest of the afternoon playing with all her new toys, introducing her porcelain doll, Esmeralda, to the stuffed bear and cloth doll her parents had gotten for her, and promising they were all going to be best friends.

She gave Sam and Jessica a pretty little glass ornament for their tree with the words, “Christmas 1900” painted on it, and she gave Lucy a book of nursery rhymes.

The adults all exchanged gifts, but of course Lucy got the most gifts of them all, and a lot of those were from Dean. She went a little mad as she pulled them all open. Her screeching joy over the last gift she opened, a porcelain doll with real hair, had everyone laughing.

Eventually, she put her dolls to sleep and crawled up on Dean's lap to get him to read her some of her nursery rhymes. He obliged and the silliness of the rhymes kept them all entertained for a while.

Y/N looked at Lucy in Dean's lap, her rosy cheeks glowing with delight as he read to her, and she felt her heart swell in her chest.

Halfway through the book, Dean set it down and repositioned Lucy in his lap.

“These nursery rhymes are great, but I think we should go for a horsey ride. What do you think?”

“Oh boy!” Lucy cried, clapping her hands.

“Oh boy.” Sam said with a groan. “Not this close to bedtime.“ He told Dean, who chose to ignore him

He sat Lucy on his knee so that it looked like she was riding sidesaddle. Moving his leg sedately up and down, he sung the simple words to the nursery rhyme.

“This is the way a lady rides, lady rides, lady rides. This is the way a lady rides all through the town.”

Shifting her so that one chubby leg dangled on either side of his knee, he picked up the pace slightly, but still kept a steady rhythmic ”prancing” throughout the next part of the song.

“This is the way a gentleman rides, gentleman rides, gentleman rides. This is the way a gentleman rides all through the town.”

Lucy began giggling like mad, obviously well-aware of what was coming next.

“Hang on, l’il pardner!” Dean told Lucy in a would-be western accent.

He began bouncing and twisting his knee all around like a broncing bull, making Lucy squeal and grab on to her Uncle's kneecap. Dean had an iron grip around her waist as he sang the last verse.

“This is the way a cowboy rides, cowboy rides, cowboy rides. This is the way a cowboy rides all through the town.”

He kept her on the bucking bronco for a little while, slowing down every once in a while, only to speed back up and start Lucy cackling all over again.

This will never be mine. I'll never have this with him.

Y/N was laughing as she watched the sheer delight on her little student's face. Sam and Jessica were laughing too, and it was a warm, precious moment.

But it was in that precise moment, when her heart was full and happy, that the realization pierced through Y/N once again.

It was impossible. Even if she stayed with Dean, no matter what, she'd never have this simple, domestic happiness. She'd never watch him bounce their little girl on his knee, never go to the park together as a family and watch him teach their son to fly a kite.

They wouldn't sit down to Christmas or Easter dinners with friends and family. She and Dean wouldn't watch their children grow up, would never watch each other grow old.

She'd get a few years with Dean at most, and when he was through, her only option would be to move into another man's bed. Maybe she'd be able to wait a year, maybe even longer if Dean was generous.

But no matter what, even if Dean gave her enough to live off of for ten years, they would be empty years. Alone years.

This would never be her life.

Tears gathered fast and thick behind her eyes, and she looked away from Dean and Lucy quickly.

“Excuse me.” She said with what she hoped was a believable smile, as she walked briskly from the room. She escaped across the foyer and into Dean's study just before she broke into tears.

She sat down on the couch and buried her face in her hands, the tears flowing freely despite her desperate attempt to make them stop.

The door opened and Y/N jumped up, worried it was going to be Dean. But instead Jessica was poking her head around the door and then sliding inside.

“I thought I saw you disappear into this room.” She said gently.

Y/N tried to dash away her tears surreptitiously. But Jessica had already seen them. She didn't seem surprised by them, and she didn't ask Y/N what was wrong.

She simply stepped forward and placed a consoling hand on Y/N's arm.

“You love him.” She said plainly, but with immense sympathy in her tone.

Y/N thought about lying, but there was no point. So she nodded and felt a sob escape her chest. Jessica stepped forward and pulled Y/N into a hug, wrapping her up tightly and letting Y/N muffle her tears in the soft green wool of her dress.

Y/N cried until her throat hurt and her head ached. When she was finished, Jessica sat beside her on the couch for a little while.

“I'm sorry, Y/N.” She said quietly.

But Y/N shook her head. “No, you warned me.”

Jessica sighed. “I'm still sorry you're being hurt. I could maybe talk to him abou-”

“No!” Y/N said immediately. The only thing she could think of that would be worse than loving Dean when he didn't love her back, was him knowing how she felt and being annoyed by her unwanted feelings or else, worst of all, feeling sorry for her.

“No, it's fine, I don't think there's anything to say to him that's going to change his mind. But thank you.”

Jessica nodded. “I'll give you a few minutes alone, and I'll make sure no one comes in here till you come out.”

Y/N nodded and gave Jessica a smile, grateful to get the time to try and look presentable again.

When she was alone, she took deep shuddering breaths and smoothed down her hair. As she let her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks recover, thoughts began to unfold in her mind and she came to another realization.

She couldn't say yes to Dean.

She couldn't have him for a little while and then just lose him; she couldn't have him, without ever really having him. If walking away now was going to break her heart, how much worse would it be after she'd spent years with him and was then forced to walk away?

She couldn't say yes.

But she also realized that before they parted ways there was one thing she had to do.

Eventually she felt a little more normal, and looking at her reflection in the darkened window, it looked like most of the traces of her tears were gone. So, she rejoined the group in the parlor.

They only stayed another few minutes however, since it was getting to be past Lucy's bedtime.

There were many good wishes exchanged and sleepy hugs from Lucy. Jessica gave Y/N another quick, tight hug, and she and Dean were soon on their way in the hack that rolled up outside the door.

As they made their way through the deserted New York City streets, Y/N slid closer to Dean on the seat, wrapping her arms around his and leaning her head on his shoulder as they bumped along the cobblestone.

She held his hand all the way through the snowy path that led to the garden doors; she didn't want to let go of him.

But when they got inside, they separated so Dean could light some lamps and Y/N could get out of her coat and boots. After Dean had done the same, she was again at his side. She pulled him close and kissed him softly.

Dean tried to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back. He looked down at her with heat in his gaze and she allowed all her passion for him to show in hers.

“I want to give you something for Christmas.” She whispered.

Dean smiled and pulled his tie loose, lifting the end towards her. “But you already did.”

Y/N shook her head. “I want to give you something else too.”

“Alright. What's that?” Dean asked with a warm smile.

Y/N hesitated for the span of a breath before answering.

“Me.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@kr804573

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[larkral]

Oh hello again! Twice in one week? I KNOW! Thanks for the tags @imagineacoolusername @orange-peony @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @mooncello

@run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire and @monbons !!! Such an active week. I love it! Excited to read the COBB stuff that's coming out, and VERY enticed by many snippets and arts being posted right now!

So, this week has been a lot, BUT I did some crafting AND I started writing my Firstprince Soulmate BS. It is now over a thousand words? I don't know. My brain works in mysterious ways. My crafting is making a lampshade. I don't know, because I am very particular about what I like? Steps one and two of about a thousand steps on the current project I'm working on, but that's more than zero!

I've also done some work on Simon's two mums this week, though not quite as much as the Firstprince soulmates. So. Have six sentences of each:

Finally (already, always):

At lunch, after I sit down, Baz sits opposite me. He grits his teeth.  "Thank you," he says. Then into his water glass, he mutters, "Sorry." "Yeah," is all I can get out.  Penny sits down and doesn't say anything about it.

First Prince Soulmates BS:

 "Sorry, I'm only used to dressing like this at fundraising galas for the British Ornithological Society." "Of course," Alex volleys back, "The natural habitat of duck jokes." She laughs again, the column of her neck elongating as her head tilts back in delight, and Alex wonders if there might be at least one upside to having to attend The Royal Wedding.  He wonders if there's any way he can ask her if she intends to continue studying the annual coloration changes in the Gadwall remicle as they relate to anatidae seasonal monogamy and whether she thinks there's really an evolutionary path by which that's related to the wrist banding mark in humans. You know, without revealing himself as both a soulmate freak and a duck sex freak. There definitely isn't.

I promise there's a good explanation for why I've made Alex someone who knows all about duck sex, even though it may never appear on screen.

Tags under the cut!

I don't know who to tag for firstprince other than the folks I've already tagged for first prince and @kiwiana-writes, so consider yourself tagged in if you're a firstprince Six Sentence Sunday person.

Also tagging my usual Simon Snow crew: @stitchyqueer @confused-bi-queer @raenestee @facewithoutheart @whogaveyoupermission

@cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @basiltonbutliketheherb

@ileadacharmedlife @asocialpessimist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias

@petedavidsonscock @artsyunderstudy @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars

@nausikaaa @nightimedreamersghost @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ionlydrinkhotwater @that-disabled-princess

@shrekgogurt  @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl​ @blackberrysummerblog​ @valeffelees

@j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @emeryhall @run-for-chamo-miles @talentpiper11