#no gayer shit has ever been said

[gayliketheancients]

It’s funnier if you imagine Reg as the only Death Eater stupid/brave/suicidal enough to glare at Voldy and say “Tom/My Lord.” when Reg is sick of his shit.

And Voldemort is angry as fuck about it because WHO does this 16 year old twink think he is being mean and giving him boners. Voldy wouldnt kill him just for being pretty & rude, but pretty, rude, and in the possession of a piece of his soul after stealing it out of hiding? Regulus might as well be his wet dream; powerful, take no shit, pureblood, rich, unyielding, stubborn.

Everybody wondering if they’re fucking or fighting. And Reg has no idea whats even happening anymore. Purposely oblivious.

I love him for it.

jegulus haters are all "james is straight" "james isn't gay" but never "regulus is straight" cuz no man who writes a resignation letter to his evil boss saying "I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more" is straight.

[wabblebees]

thought id update to say; i survived opening night!!! and not only that, it went REALLY fucking well, and people seemed to REALLY REALLY like it omfg... god this is so crazy

[natigail]

No, but seriously, they said it so clearly tonight as they have said many times before: It would not be possible without us. Without the phandom supporting and enabling them, they would not be making stuff. They want to make it, but they're also making it for us. It cannot be pulled apart. Giving the people what they want has been an era before and that was glorious. This is similar but distinctly different too. This time we're enabling them - we make it possible for them to do shit like this. To play and be silly and be creative and impactful all rolled into one. It could have stopped. Had Phil not pulled Dan out of his hiatus/hibernation and asked of him to try it. Because Dan yaps and lays his feelings out more often, but Phil watches quietly and he's so in tune with us. They weren't sure how many people would show up for the revival but they had a hope for it, or they wouldn't have jumped back into making joint content again. They dipped their toes into the water with something silly to try out for a while, see where it would go. And now they're here. Less than a year later and it's a freaking renaissance (their words!), and it brighter and gayer than ever before. YouTube have changed, they're grown, we've grown and yet... it's still here. The spark of mutual interest and fun. The community they fostered for almost fifteen years is still going strong and we are not done yet. This has proved it. The phandom wasn't done and so Dan and Phil weren't done. Now, they get to do more. To celebrate and acknowledge this special energy between us. They know how much they've impacted our lives, stories been told to them over and over again, but we've also impacted them. It's always been mutual, even if the roles are obviously different. And they treasure us, I feel it with every word aimed our way - even the teasing ones, perhaps especially those. We, Dan and Phil all make it possible together, and I for one cannot wait to see what they've been cooking up next.

[gallusrostromegalus]

all the captains and lieutenants accidentally get slipped some of ukitake's fucked up gigaweed edibles, what happens

First of all, it's not an accident, they straight-up plan a Friday-Night-Of-A-Three-Day-Weekend event of this. Everyone is curious, and Ukitake thinks it will be a funny way to celebrate his Birthday. He is correct: Yamamoto: Veteran of The Dank Arts, gets real high but not unpleasantly so. Would do it again next time he has a long weekend to enjoy it!

Sasakibe: Claims Ludwig Wittgenstein makes PERFECT sense now, attempts to write this philosophical revelation down but is thwarted by the jammed machinations of a clicky pen.

Soi Fon: Gives herself a hernia laughing at one (1) bad pun.

Yoruichi: Used to Urahara's Megaweed Edibles, so approaches the Gigaweed with undue confidence, declares This Edible Ain't Shit five minutes in and eats a second one. She has to be coaxed down from the top of the fridge where she's hiding from The Hatmen by bribing her with a can of Tuna. (Ukitake keeps the $21-a-can Good Shit in the house)

Omaeda: Creates a God-teir marinara Sauce, AND has the good sense to have Nemu pause her Game of Go and come into the kitchen to write down what he did.

Rose: Writes a magnificent new symphony, it's his best work ever, it's life alteringly beautiful, it's effervescent- When he sobers up, it's half a piccolo solo that barely qualifies as a ringtone.

Izuru: In the kitchen crying while eating an inadvisable amount of Omaeda's Spaghetti Marinara.

Retsu: Category Five Mukbang Incident

Isane: Thinks she's filming the Mukbang Incident, actually has her phone open to the calculator app.

Shinji: refuses to touch the Gigaweed because he "Owes The Hatmen Money" and nobody can tell if he's joking or not (he's not).

Momo: Literally Everything is HILARIOUS

Hiyori: Did not know it was possible to have a bigger, gayer crush on Momo, but she somehow opened up a new level of lesbianics. She calls it Gay 2.

Byakuya: Couchlocked for 24 hours straight.

Renji: Couchlocked right there with him, but able to text Izuru to bring them Spaghetti.

Komamura: Can't. Canine Weed Toxicity. (Relieved, offers to spend the weekend watching Toshiro and Yachiru so he has an excuse to go winter camping over the weekend)

Iba: Got High as FUCK. Found out later that the thing he actually ate was a Little Debbie Cosmic Brownie.

Shunsui: his alcohol tolerance actually makes his weed tolerance terrible so he's on the floor from jokingly licking the wrapper.

Nanao: Challenging people to knife fights (Romantic Intent).

Tousen: Immediately passes out because he managed to get his blood pressure down to normal levels, sleeps for 26 hours straight and wakes up feeling genuinely well-rested and in a good mood for the first time in two centuries.

Kensei: Gets his hand bitten at the Category 5 Mukbang Incident because he thought it would be funny to try to snitch off Retsu's plate.

Shuuhei: Attempting to refinance Shinji's debt with The Hatmen. Possibly succeeding?

Mashiro: Said "This Edible Ain't Shit", took a second, and appears to be unaffected. Playing Go with Nemu and winning.

Matsumoto: Makes the Hernia-inducing Pun. Will not STOP making Puns.

Hitsugaya: Being babysat by Komamura, would be madder about this if he wasn't also having a blast doing wintertime camping.

Kenpachi: Attempts to fight his own shadow, loses.

Yachiru: Also on the Wintertime Mountain Expedition, trying to talk Toshiro into joining her and Komamura on an Elk Hunt.

Ikkaku: Has done weed before, but only smoked it, but has a naturally suspicious nature and waits to see how Yoruichi does on her second edible, and avoids running afoul of The Hatmen.

Yumichika: Stays sober to collect blackmail on everyone. Actually films the Mukbang Incident for Isane

Mayuri: This is NOTHING compared to the Quantum Formaldymeth shit he's been on for the last century.

Urahara: from a prominent weed-growing family and lifetime connoisseur of The Herb. Takes one bite and realizes he's in deep shit, lies down on the floor next to Shuuhei and gives him terrible financial advice.

Nemu: Not chemically effected by The Edible but she loves A Group Social Activity so she's a little crunk on Social Recognition Euphoria and it's interfering with her game.

Ukitake, peeling his lieutenant off the floor: Y'all are wimps.

Rukia: has to be peeled off the floor, is affectionately dumped in the laps of Renji and Byakuya, where she forces them to have an emotionally honest and borderline normal conversation.

[sun-undone]

okay so i'm rereading the poppy war for the sole purpose of trying to squeeze all the chaltan content i can get out of it and my god is it delivering already

this first one is something that i completely breezed past in my first reading cause i didn't even know who tf chaghan was yet but on a reread????? GAY (pg. 226):

you're telling me that chaghan and altan just happened to be together when chaghan felt tyr's death? in the middle of the night??? mmhmm yup for sure

now as willing as i am to fully chalk this up to a late night chaltan tryst, i will be fair and admit that i'm not super clear on how exactly chaghan got the tyr info here. it kinda seems like he's doing his monthly meeting with the hexagram goddess (in the dialogue he literally says "there has been a hexagram" and then he interprets 3 things from it), but first off, it seems too coincidental for him to just happen to be doing that at the very moment that tyr dies, and also why tf is he doing it in the middle of the night?? is he just being extra dramatic and making up some "we have to do it at midnight" bullshit to see what he can get away with (a la the infamous kitay horse piss incident) or is there an in universe explanation for that that i've completely forgotten?

OR is it a secret, gayer third option: altan and chaghan were already together when he felt tyr's death, which then prompted him to convene with the goddess and get the hexagram. and we just don't see the full process or really get much of a proper explanation cause we're in altan's pov and it's all mysterious and shit at this point in the book. that's the one i'm going with and i cannot believe that this is their first scene together. the intimacy is already so palpable and we don't even know chaghan's name at this point in the book.

and then of course there's THIS (pg. 227):

absolutely fucking bonkers i'm spinning on my head

is anyone else this gentle with altan ever????? i'm genuinely asking. who else in the cike would even THINK about pulling a move like this? also the added layer of chaghan originally being next in line for commander before altan took him out to the fucking valley for THREE WHOLE DAYS and then THIS is his reaction to altan officially inheriting said title??? we know from a later conversation that chaghan has with rin (pg. 337) that he's very aware of how unprepared altan was to assume leadership over the cike, which just makes this gesture from him even more meaningful and tender. "we are yours to command. i am yours."

this next one just made me giggle and idk if it's just my brain being broken from scouring source material for gay crumbs or if it's actually intentional but (pg. 285):

i mean. i mean. if anyone knows the extent of chaltan, it's most definitely qara, and a lot of these crumbs involve her so i'm taking it as more evidence and no one can stop me

speaking of qara being an icon (pg. 317):

i actually forgot how much she's in this book i am so sorry queen

so unegen also has a strong reaction to ramsa's dialogue, but if i may be incredibly nitpicky about it, i'd argue that qara snorting implies a sense of "yeah right now that's funny", while unegen spitting out his wine implies more pure shock than anything else. i'm sure the cike have some idea about chaghan and altan's relationship going deeper than meets the eye (if it's this obvious from the crumbs we get over the span of a handful of scenes i can only imagine how sick and tired they must be after an entire year of it), but once again, qara is likely the only one who really KNOWS. for obvious reasons.

then we have the iconic dramatic entrance where chaghan is officially introduced, and even before zooming into a specific piece of it to prove my chaltan agenda, just the very existence of this scene is so fucking insane to me. rebecca could've chosen any way to properly introduce us to chaghan, and this is what she decided on. you could argue that it sets up chaghan's dramatic and obnoxiously proud personality, and that him being hurt is so we can see how it affects qara (and also just to up the tension and stakes) BUT how coincidental that on top of achieving all that character and narrative stuff, it also succeeds in showing us a completely different side to altan. one that is specifically brought about by chaghan.

would altan rush out into a sea of federation soldiers to help any other member of the cike? yes. but rebecca chose to show him helping THIS member of the cike. in THIS dramatic of a fashion (and it's literally on a horse like that is so fractured fairytale romance of her actually). and it's also the aftermath that really clues us into something deeper between him and chaghan in particular (pg. 373):

along with qara, who is SOUL BONDED TO CHAGHAN BY THE WAY, altan is screaming at him for being reckless and how he could've gotten himself killed. intentionally or not, rebecca is clearly aligning altan and qara here, and i LOVE how it's shown in the way their dialogue is formatted. you don't even know who is saying which fragment. they are one in the same when it comes to the level in which they care about chaghan's wellbeing. and also when it comes to yelling at him for being an idiot! and if that's not love then idk what is

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Nimona headcanons plus little bonus part 2 electric boogaloo

After Nimona found out about Ambrosius' allergies they demanded to test every single meal he eats 

They’ll take the plate away from him and have a test bite and only after they deem it “safe” will they let him eat it

Doesn’t matter if they're out eating or at home she does this every time 

He can literally say “Nim Bal made this for me it’s not gonna have anything I’m allergic to” and she’ll respond with “You don’t know that he could finally be sick of you and the only thing saving you is me” 

Ambrosius and Bal will share literally everything they eat 

Whenever they go out they’ll usually order something they know they’ll both like 

And if they know the other one is between two options they’ll just order one of the options and share both meals 

It’s a pretty normal thing that they’ve been doing since they were kids so they don’t even question it anymore 

Nimona jokingly calls it sickening as she steals food off their plates 

No one in the trio is neurotypical 

Bal is autistic Ambrosius has ADHD Nimona is a mix of both

Talking to these dorks is absolute hell

It’s kind of like the interrogation scene except it’s not one topic 

They often get sidetracked and lose the plot of the conversation 

They’ll have 10 different conversations at once and only finish like 5

Bal forgets a whole bunch of shit because he has long-term brain damage and Nimona and Ambrosius forget shit cause of the ADHD 

It’s not uncommon for someone to say “Hey remind me to” and then they’ll be cut off by the other person who just says “You know I won’t remember that just put a reminder in your phone” 

Their house is covered to the brim in sticky notes and random pieces of paper for reminders 

The grocery list is on the front door the chore list is in the kitchen and random little tasks are scattered around the house 

When Nimona doesn’t want to do something he’ll just erase his name from that task

He fooled the boys for a while but Bal started keeping score of who did what and when and called his sneaky ass out 

Little bonus part 2 electric boogaloo: this time it’s my sister and my mama and my sister also was acting like I was killing her firstborn not asking her to watch a movie 

Me: “look mama it’s the siblings” my sister: “but they’re gay” me: “yeah but people thought they were siblings” my sister: “if you ever look at me like that I’m calling the cops” (the scene on the catwalk) 

“Yeah you better cheer” (when Bal was getting knighted)

“I knew something was wrong with the sword” “So did Bal” “Yeah but I knew first”

Apparently both my Mama and my sister didn’t know that Ambrosius cut off Bal’s arm so I got to see both of their reactions 

This was my Mama’s “damn what happened to being a lover not a fighter” “he’s a knight Mama” “Who cares!!” 

This was my sister's “Wow really took the whole arm huh?” “That’s how they were trained” “And?” 

My mama was talking to my sister when Nimona met Bal “Who does that remind you of?” “Roo” “Exactly”

 “Oh look it’s tiny dick!” (Talking about Todd) 

“What a fucking bitch” (when she found out the director swapped the sword) 

This was when Bal and Ambrosius were fighting Me: “Is there anything gayer than having an argument in the middle of a sword fight” My mama: “They’ll fight with their other swords later” 

“Who fucking asked” “bla bla bla I’m a racist bitch” (when the Director went on her monologue in the office)

She saw Ambrosius’ username and laughed for like two minutes straight

After the sword fight my sister would pretend like Bal and Ambrosius were making out every time they were on screen together 

“Because I love you *making out noises*” at the tavern 

“Oh there’s their third wheel (Todd)” “Nah he’s racist as fuck” “Who isn’t in the institute?”

When Ambrosius tried to stop the director she said this is what he meant “No you can’t set off the laser that’s my kid!” (She believes the trio is a family too) 

“Awe they’re hugging *more making out noises*” 

She called it cute in the end and I made fun of her for bitching about it

I asked my sister who her favorite is and she says “what’s his name balls?” I started cackling my ass off and she goes “I’m joking I know his name is Ballister and he’s still my favorite”

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Chapter 5: Step 5: Wine and Dine

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

Buckle up besties things are gettin hotter. Also thicc thanks to the bestie @misssmephisto and all the gay ideas she has shared with me. This fic would succ without her🦐✨

Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @eveymay @kimiinou @muffintopxs

(pls let me know if I missed you I'm a forgetful shrimp)

Chapter 4

Cross Posted on AO3 here

HTWAHP Masterlist

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“She’s taking you on a date?!”

“It’s not a date James,” you sigh, cleaning the table tops.

“You’re going out for dinner in Burlington and you don’t think it’s a date?”

“You’re the one who said she’s out of my league!”

“That was before she invited you to dinner! Plus, she is still out of your league, but maybe you have some charm hidden under there.”

Externally? You were calm, cool as a cucumber, as the kids say. Internally? You’d been panicking since she’d asked you yesterday morning and could barely think any other words than “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

She had asked you so casually. You had brought her her morning coffee, you’d been telling her about one of the locals that had caused a scene in the cafe when she sprung the question on you.

“What would you say to dinner tomorrow night?”

“What?” You had eloquently uttered.

“You said I should take time off. So what would you say to dinner tomorrow night?” She asked, taking off her glasses and fidgeting with them.

“I- where uh where would we go?”

“I know a rather nice place in Burlington. If you’d rather not I completely understand-“

“I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

She had finally looked up at you at that. She seemed shocked at first but then her shock dissolved and she flashed you the brightest smile you had ever seen. You swore at that moment you would do whatever it took to make her smile like that all the time.

So now you were standing in your room, staring intently into your closet trying to find something to wear. You have no idea what kind of restaurant it is nor what Larissa is wearing. You do know however that you have an hour to get your shit together. You eventually settle on one of your fancier outfits. You put on some makeup and end up arriving at Nevermore 5 minutes early.

You exit your car and end up halfway to the entrance when it opens. You stop dead in your tracks and fight to keep your jaw off the ground when you see Larissa.

Oh my god, she was wearing pants. PANTS.

You were almost certainly dead and had somehow made it into the good place. Larissa Weems was standing there wearing the most flattering pants you’d ever seen on a woman. She had paired it with a cute turtle neck that she had rolled up the sleeves of and seeing her bare forearms was giving you unholy thoughts.

God, you were gay. You were gayer than gay. The gayest around. Fuck this woman was making it hard not to kiss her senseless.

“Hello darling.” She all but fucking purrs, looking you over.

“Uh, I- uhm you. Hi.”

“Are you ready to go?”

You nod dumbly, following her as she leads you to the car. You do shamelessly stare at her ass as you follow her and find yourself blushing and thanking her when she opens your door for you.

When you arrive at the restaurant Larissa, ever the gentlewoman, gets out and opens your door for you. And then, as if you weren’t already swooning, she leads you inside with a hand on the small of your back. You genuinely think you’ve died and ended up in heaven.

“You look absolutely ravishing tonight darling.” She murmurs, pulling out your chair for you.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you joke, “but really you look so- you just- You look amazing.”

“Thank you darling,” she murmurs, blushing as she sits down.

You look around, taking in the fanciness of the place. The whole place screams way out of your budget. Larissa must notice you starting to get nervous because she reaches across the small table and grabs your hand, sending you a bright smile.

“Order whatever you like sweetheart. It’s on me.” She comments, looking over the menu.

“I- you don’t have to-“

“I know. I want to. So don’t worry about it.”

“I-I don’t even know what to order. I’ve never been to a place as fancy as this before.” You murmur, looking over the menu.

“The steak here is pretty good. And they have a wine that goes really well with it.”

“Oh yeah? So you bring many baristas out here then?” You smirk, dropping the menu.

“Oh yes. I wine and dine every pretty young lady I come across.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

You’re interrupted by the waiter coming to take your orders. Larissa orders for both of you, and the waiter leaves. She then clears her throat and turns her attention back to you.

“So where did you come from? Before you moved to Jericho I mean.” She asked.

“Well, I actually grew up in a small town similar to Jericho. And you know, being a small-town kid all I wanted was to live in the city with all the different kinds of people and that stuff. So I went, and I- it didn’t work out. Rent was fucking expensive and I ended up working two jobs to cover it which just made me depressed and anxious. And it didn’t help that I was already not the healthiest adult out there what with my bouts of weakness and fainting episodes. So after a couple of months and basically a mental breakdown I decided to move here. I would’ve gone back home but I…I just didn’t want to go back to the same people I had grown up with and their disappointment and judgement.”

Larissa gapes at you and you realize you’ve just… let that all out. You start to apologize when she grabs your hand again.

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” She murmurs, “but I’m glad you’re here and I- I do hope Jericho is better for you, I- you deserve to be happy.”

“Well, how could I not be happy when I got to meet a literal goddess among mortals.” You flirt, attempting to lighten the mood.

She blushes at that humming and looks away. The rest of dinner is less exciting but just as wonderful. Larissa tells you about some shenanigans the students have been up to and a little bit more about her time at Nevermore as a student. You talk for hours, she questions your choice in steak (you have it as rare as possible and she finds it interesting.)

You could talk to her forever. And you’re sure you would have, had the restaurant not had a closing time of 10. The two of you apologize to the waiter for staying so long and make your way back to the school.

You arrive back at Nevermore a little while later. You both get out of the car and stop outside Nevermore’s entrance.

“Thank you for inviting me Larissa I-I really enjoyed tonight.” You smile.

“Thank you for accompanying me, I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun.”

“It was my pleasure.”

The two of you stand there for a moment before you both speak.

“I really don’t with tonight to-“

“I was wondering if you’d like to-“

You both flush and you gesture for Larissa to speak first.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come in for a drink?” She asks.

“Yes!” You reply, a little too enthusiastically, so you try again. “Ahem. I mean. Yeah, that sounds neat.”

She chuckles at your antics and leads you inside. As you’re following her to presumably her quarters you can’t help but think that all of this really does seem like a date. The dinner? Rather romantic if you’re honest with yourself. And now? Going back to her rooms to have a drink? That’s definitely slightly fruity.

You realize, upon arriving at her office, that Larissa’s rooms are attached to her office. Which is both handy and baffling considering you’ve been in her office almost every day for the last few weeks and somehow missed the door leading to them. She asks you to take a seat on her comfy couch while she fetches the wine and the glasses.

You sit, suddenly having the thought that if this is a date then you’re woefully unprepared for the Larissa Weems to be romantically interested in you. However, you argue, this could just be her wanting company and you are a pretty good friend. So there’s no need to jump to crazy conclusions like the sexiest woman on earth being interested in you.

“Darling? Are you alright?” Larissa asks, suddenly in front of you with two glasses in hand.

“Huh? I mean yes? Sorry, I just zoned out a bit there.” You blush.

“I do often wonder what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” She hums.

Christ is she flirting with you??

“It’s not really that interesting truly, a lot of memes or silly songs on repeat more often than not.”

She laughs at that and the two of you settle back into comfortable conversation. About an hour goes by before you finally muster up the confidence to ask the question that’s been on your mind since you arrived.

“Larissa…”

“Yes, dear?” She hums.

She’s sitting next to you on the couch, her heels off and feet tucked beneath her. She’s leaning against the back of the sofa, one hand propped under her head and the other holding her only half-empty glass. She looks so…domestic. It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“I was just wondering. And I mean I may be really wrong and if I am we can just forget I even opened my big mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t even be asking this. I really don’t want to ruin things between us because you’re like the best person ever but-“

She moves her hand to your thigh, sitting up a bit straighter (and subsequently closer to you somehow). Your eyes dart to her hand as it squeezes your thigh and now your throat is dryer than the Sahara but your underwear will definitely be the opposite.

“What is it you want to ask darling?” She purrs, again ruining your underwear further.

“I uh. This dinner thing. Was it…was this a date?” You finally manage, bracing yourself for the worst.

For a solid moment Larissa just stares at you, her eyes wide. You’re certain it’s the longest moment of your life, and in it you contemplate throwing yourself out the nearest window. You’re about to start back tracking and apologize when she laughs.

And truly, you love her laugh, but right now you can’t help but think she’s laughing at the idea of her being interested in you in that way. You don’t blame her but it makes your heart clench and you look away, doing your best not to burst into tears.

“It was stupid. I’ll just go-“

“Darling-“ she smiles.

“It’s okay! It was silly of me to think someone like you would even like someone like me like that, I know. I’ll just go and we can forget-“

“Darling.” She stops you, still smiling but much more serious. “I’m not laughing because I think it’s silly.”

You hum at that, still not meeting her eyes. She grabs your chin then, forcing you to look at her.

“I was laughing,” she starts, leaning closer to you and whispering, “because I thought I had been rather obvious.”

“Obvious?” You whisper back, still confused.

“I have been flirting with you for quite some time now sweetheart.” She hums.

“Oh.”

Oh.

OH.

“So you- you’ve been…with me? You like me?”

“Very much so.”

“Wow.”

You sit there, taking it all in, taking her in. You then, much to your utter horror, let out the most girlish giggle you have ever giggled. You want to be mortified but she beams at you, her teeth showing and all thoughts exit your head.

She cups your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lip. You part your lips as you do your darndest to breathe. You glance down at her lips, watching as her tongue pokes out to lick them. When you look back at her eyes they’re darker than you’ve ever seen them, her pupils blown.

“I’d very much like to kiss you now, if that’s alright.” She whispers.

“Please.” You whisper back, desperate.

She closes the gap, her soft lips brushing against your own. It’s short and sweet and gentle and everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And then she’s pulling you into her lap and she’s kissing you again except this time it’s needy and desperate and very hot.

Your head is empty aside from the sensation of her lips against hers and the feeling of her body beneath your hands. She runs her hand down your back, palming at your ass and you barely suppress a moan at the feeling. Somehow you manage one coherent thought as you sit there, straddling her lap and kissing her.

Larissa Weems will be the death of you.

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Where There's a Will, Right?: Dante x Male Reader

SUMMARY:      After Dante’s successful defeat of Argosax, he’s been ever-so-slightly more talkative than before; at least, that’s what you think. Both Trish and Lady noticed that Dante’s mood hasn’t improved and, if anything, he has only become more distant. Upon telling them that they’re wrong, they both tell you something that sends your mind reeling. 

MINORS DNI--Seriously, go away >:[

BEGINNING NOTES: ✨Dom/Top Dante* x Male Sub/Bottom Reader *Takes place between DMC 2 and 4 on the timeline; meaning Dante’s a bit angstier than normal--kinda Vergil-esc but he gets closer to normal at the end. ✨Unestablished relationship but everyone (including Dante) knows that you have a thing for him ✨The reader lives at the shop ✨Mentioned dark topics (nothing in depth but Dante having been suicidal is mentioned a few times) 🍊🍊🍊 ✨Fluff ✨Angst (? kinda) ✨Smut; Dante’s first time--the reader’s body count is not specified but it is implied you aren’t a virgin--meaning he is very sensitive to your touches. ✨Biting--draws blood and enjoys it. ✨Rougher--It’s not great but I wanted to try writing something a bit rougher, experimentation if you will.\ ✨Oral--Dante receiving ✨Reader gets emotional afterwards; like sad fluffy stuff. 🍊🍊🍊 ✨A little self-indulgent. I could’ve written this as G/N (and if anyone wants a re-write, I can totally do so) but I wanted something a bit gayer than normal smh ✨I know absolutely dick-diddly about motorcycles, so you best believe I just googled all of it lmao ✨Not used to writing Trish or Lady so they might be a bit OOC; if anyone has any better ideas for how they should sound (if they sound off) please let me know! I want to try and use them more often. ✨The reader uses Revenant (as per usual) and Ifrit. How can you use those wonderful gauntlets? You are just stubborn or strong enough to resist their demonic nature; idk just let me have this lmao. Demons are from DMC 1, 2, and/or 4 (Also I didn’t really feel like writing too much combat since “Bound by Blood” is so combat heavy, kinda got bored with it lmaoooo). ✨THIS IS NOT A PREQUEL TO “Deep Regret” THAT FIC. IS STILL IN THE WORKS (AND IS REALLY ANGSTY LMAO)

==

     “Really?” Trish leaned against the wall of the garage, watching both Lady and you work, “You sure we’re talking about the same Dante?”

     “What?” you set down the socket wrench and looked over at her, “Don’t believe me?”

     “No, not in the slightest,” she mindlessly looked at her nails as she continued, “I don’t think I’ve heard Dante say more than five words at once in years and you’re telling me--”

     “That he and I talk all the time?” You stood up, wiping your hands on your jeans, "I mean, we do live together-- what's so hard to believe?"

     Lady laughed, catching your attention, “Well, Dante’s not exactly the talking type anymore,” the raven-haired woman turned from the workbench, “Can’t say I blame her, hun.”

     “But that’s where you guys are wrong,” you sighed, “I mean, he’s not super talkative but we can hold a conversation for a good while,” you walked over to the stairs, grabbing your open beer on the way, and sat down with a huff, “You’re telling me that he doesn’t talk to you when you are on a job or anything?”

     Lady shook her head, “Do you know how rare it is for him to even say “hello” anymore?”

     “Bah,” you made a dismissive flick of your hand, “You two are full of shit, there is no way he’s that quiet.”

     Trish said something under her breath as she crouched down to check the work you'd done.

     “Huh?” You cupped your ear in a joking manner, “I’m getting deaf in my old age, Trish--you gotta speak up.”

     “I said,” she stood up and turned to look at you, “Maybe it is because Dante loves you.”

     Beer shot out your nose as you choked on it, going wide-eyed feeling flustered beyond belief. 

     “You can’t tell me you don’t have a thing for him,” the blonde walked over to Lady’s workbench, pushing up on the edge and sitting on the tabletop.

     “I do not!” 

     Lady shook her head, “It is painfully obvious that you have a crush on him,” she leaned her side on the bench, facing you, “I’m sure he knows, too.”

     “How is it obvious?! I mean--” You pursed your lips knowing you just dug your own grave.

     The women shared a laugh before Trish answered, “The two of you are practically joined at the hip.”

     Lady then jumped in, “He won't do anything without telling or asking you first.”

     "You're the only one allowed in his room."

     "And the only one that can use his weapons without him getting pissed, especially Rebellion."

     “Dante stares at your ass a lot.”

     Once again, you choked on your drink.

     Lady laughed at Trish’s comment with a shrug, “Can't fault him for that, you do have a nice ass.”

     The sound of the roller garage door being lifted caught everyone’s attention. In the doorway stood the very topic of the conversation with a few bags of groceries in his arms.

     “Welcome home, Dante!" You shot him a warm smile, "How'd shopping go?"

     Dante stared at you then at the women, “Why are they here?” His voice was cold and flat, his typical way of speaking nowadays. 

     “Oh!” Your voice was semi-cheery as you stood up, tossing the beer bottle in the nearby trash, “They stopped by right after you left. Asked to use the workshop for a bit.”

     He stared at them for a few more seconds before walking through the garage, past you, and into the shop.

     Lady grumbled to herself before sticking out a hand, gesturing at where he’d gone, “See! I told you!”

     “You two are looking too deep into it. Dante doesn’t,” you shrugged, “you know…”

     “Bullshit!” Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “I swear-- if the two of you don’t hook up soon, I’m going to--”

     A quiet sound of a door being cracked open cut her off. Dante looked at you and quietly mumbled, “You coming?"

     “Huh? I-- Yeah,” you smiled at him, “I gotta finish the oil change and I’ll be in, okay?”

     He said nothing and shut the door. 

     Trish slid off the bench with a sigh, “Come on, let’s give the lover boys their room.”

     “Try not to break ol’ Dante," Lady jested as she picked up her tool bag, "He’s not as spry as he used to be."

      You flipped her off and she stuck out her tongue in return. As they left you meandered back to Dante’s bike, you couldn’t help but mull over what the girls said.

     “There’s no way that they are right,” your brow furrowed, “Dante is-- well, Dante. He’s a ladykiller, not into men… right? I mean, he has a mountain of bikini girl magazines-- ” 

     Lost in your thoughts, your hand slipped and you dropped the open bottle of oil, “Son of a fucking bitch!” 

     You snatched the bottle as quickly as possible but the damage was already done; over half of the contents were now in a black pool on the floor. A dejected grumble left your lips as you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling of the garage with a forearm resting across your forehead.

     “Everything okay?”

     “Hmm?” You tilted your head up slightly and saw that Dante was standing right at your feet, “Yeah… Just my good ol’ butterfingers…” Your head hit the concrete again as you sighed and looked at the mess, defeated. 

     His eyes trailed over to the oil on the floor before he wandered off. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw Dante had grabbed the cat litter.

     “You don’t have to--” He looked at you for a moment before dumping the litter on the spill, “Thanks, I-- Sorry, that was like a brand new bottle,” you leaned up in a sitting position, “I promise I’ll clean it up and replace the bottle.”

     “It’s fine,” Dante stuck out a hand, helping you up. 

     As you got to your feet, you fell into him a bit and found yourself leaning on his chest. Your face instantly became hot as you froze. Strangely, Dante made no move to push you off of him or remove you, he just stood there and waited for you to do so yourself

     “Sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your space, hah…”

     Dante didn’t say anything, but rather, he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the shop. On his desk was a box of fresh hot pizza and a few cold unopened beers. 

     Which in hindsight, you aren’t sure how he got the pizza. He didn’t have it when he entered the garage. Unless he got it delivered at the exact moment he got back… Or he had already stopped back in the foyer of the shop only to come around back to “interrupt” your conversation--but there’s no way he would do that, right?

     “So,” you grabbed a slice and sat on the edge of his desk, “What’s the special occasion?”

     “ ‘was hungry,” he grabbed a slice for himself and sat in his desk chair, putting his boots up on the tabletop.

     A look of shock spread across your face, “Really?"

     “What?”

     “It’s just,” you shook your head, “I’m just glad that you’re eating, is all," you smiled warmly, "It's nice."

     The red devil stared at you for a moment before continuing to eat. 

     Ever since defeating Nelo Angelo, Dante’s “human” habits had gradually deteriorated. He wouldn’t sleep, bathe, or even eat; any and all self-care was put on the back burner. You had to force the poor man to take care of himself--which is much easier said than done. 

     At one point, things got so bad that Trish acted more human than Dante. There was a small ray of hope, however; since Argosax’s defeat, Dante had begun to regain some small bits of life. He’d been bathing more often, eating every once in a while, and even smiling again. Most importantly, however, Dante hadn’t tried to off himself in almost six months which was a victory in and of itself for the tormented man; this, by extension, made you feel a little more at ease that the chance of you coming home to Dante on the cusp of death had slimmed significantly.

     “Hey,” you pursed your lips and waited for him to look at you in acknowledgment, “Do you care if I turn on some music?”

     He shrugged, "Don’t care."

     You hopped off the desk edge and waltzed over to the "well-loved" machine. Hitting a random track--and praying to god it worked--you went back to your resting spot against Dante's desk. The two of you sat and ate together, listening to the jukebox and enjoying the quiet company. 

===

     A loud knocking at the front door of the Devil May Cry woke you up. You must've fallen asleep downstairs. Across from you, in the middle of the room, was the coffee table with a TV that had been playing a DVD’s menu screen for only god knows how long. You were on your side and resting on the floor, in front of one of the couches… Even though there was an open couch adjacent to this one. 

     A large blanket was draped over you and onto the furniture behind you. That's when you heard a  snore and realized why you weren't on the couch. Dante was fast asleep and face down against the coffee-colored pleather. Goosebumps ran up your spine as you realized that his arm was across your chest, his fingers loosely grabbing the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, you slipped away from the sleeping devil and let out a soft groaning yawn as you stretched. 

     Another set of knocks. 

     You sighed and stood up, walking over to the door, opening it. 

     “Ah, good morning Mr. Morrison,” you smiled tiredly at the man, welcoming him into the shop.

     “You know, you make me feel old when you call me tha--” he stopped and stared at Dante, who was still asleep on the couch.

     A small huff of a laugh came from your nose as you whispered to Morrison, “I know. Shocking right?”

     His volume matched yours in return, “That would be an understatement," he turned to you, “Sorry to wake you but I have a job for the two of you that requires immediate attention,” he held out a manila folder.

     “What is it?” A flat voice asked, making both Morrison and you jump.

     After the two of you took a moment to calm down from the unexpected voice, the broker walked over to Dante and handed him the file, “Huge swarm invaded a nearby city--didn’t even have time to evacuate.”

     You walked over to Dante, peering over the edge of the file. He noticed your interest and scooched over to one side, allowing you to sit beside him. As you attempted to read, you found yourself leaning towards your partner, squinting harshly at the small text. Dante moved closer to you causing your sides to touch; which, despite how many times he’s been this close (and closer) to you, never failed to make your heart race. 

     As the two of you looked at the file, you couldn’t help but remember what the ladies had said yesterday; how stony he is to them compared to how acted with you. Dante might be a bit cold but he has his sweet moments--even if it’s him sharing paperwork filled with pictures of hundreds of demons and a destroyed cityscape.

     You whispered to Dante, “So, wanna do it?”

     His eyes flicked to you before he looked over the file once more, “Fine.”

     “Sweet!” With a jovial smile, you grabbed the paperwork. Your eyes flicked up at Morrison who moved to the edge of Dante’s desk, leaning on it with a lit cigar--as per usual, “We’ll take it!”

     The broker shook his head with a small smile, “I’m beginning to think you enjoy these types of jobs.”

     “Actually,” you stood up and walked over to him, “I do. Don’t have to worry about destroying things," you handed him the file which he grabbed.

     He laughed softly and shook his head, taking a puff of his cigar, “You two are quite the pair.”

     You tilted your head in confusion; that’s when you felt an exhale of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end.

     “We takin' the bike?” Dante’s voice was low and his warm breath lightly tickled your ear.

     “Y-yeah,” you turned your head to the side and were only inches away from the sultry devil.

     His turquoise eyes locked onto your gaze for a few seconds before he gave a flat, “Ok,” and went upstairs to get changed. 

     Once the youngest son of Sparda was upstairs, Morrison laughed as he stood up from the desk, “I’ll let the city know you're on the way. You two be careful,” he nodded goodbye and headed for the door before stopping, turning his head over his shoulder to you, “Don’t forget that there is still a lot of people trapped and--”

     “And we should try and help them, don’t worry,” you winked at him, “Dante and I got this.”

     Morrison opened his mouth but said nothing; instead, he continued out the door whistling a tune to himself. 

     You raised a brow at the odd action but decided it was not worth dwelling on. 

     Humming to yourself, you made your way up to your room. One of the spare bedrooms of (The) Devil May Cry that you were “only staying in for a few months”... that was over a decade ago. A smile tugged at your lips as you reminisced about a time long since passed. 

===

     Rain quietly beat on the roof of (The) Devil May Cry as the well-loved jukebox played quietly in the background. It had been exactly a year since Dante had officially named the shop and begun to take jobs as a demon hunter. Sitting at the large wooden desk was said devil hunter without a shirt on, only opting to wear his pants and boots. His arms were placed neatly on the top of his desk with his head resting on them, facing down at the tabletop, snoring happily. A half-eaten pizza and several empty beers were scattered about, painting the same old scene that he partook in night after night. 

     That’s when you showed up in his life. 

     You burst into the shop, stumbling and out of breath; leaning against the door, holding it shut. 

     “We’re closed,” Dante didn’t even open his eyes. 

     Before you could reply, obnoxious loud banging and shouting could be heard from the other side of the door. Dante raised a brow and tiredly looked up at you, curious as to what was pursuing you so fervently. The shirtless young man’s ears twitched as he made out what was on the other side of the large wooden door; it wasn’t demons or devils, it was humans. A mob of what sounded like fifteen to twenty people that were spouting off insults that ranged from vaguely rude statements to flat-out death threats. 

     Dante sighed, standing up from his desk with a huff. Casually, he grabbed Force Edge from the wall it was resting against, walking over to you. 

     You, of course, were terrified, debating if it was better to take your chances outside. Bursting into some random dude’s shop was dumb but you didn’t expect a smoking hot white-haired man (who was possibly the owner) to approach you with a massive gothic sword. 

     He flicked his hand telling you to move off to the side, which you fearfully obliged. With a warm, soft, friendly feeling, he smiled at you revealing his oddly sharp teeth, “You’re gonna owe me for this,” your face instantly became flushed in embarrassment.

     Dante opened the door wide open and stepped out of the shop, the large blade resting on his shoulder. As he slowly went down each stair, the mob backed up away from him, “I’m only gonna say this once,” his voice was cold, loud, and angry, the complete opposite of what you’d just heard, “Get lost.”

     One of the group’s men decided to act tough and approached Dante, “And if we don’t? What are you gonna--!”

     The red devil grabbed the man by the face and held him up, not phased by the man’s struggling, “You know, I hate people like you,” his fingers tightened, “People that just don’t know how to listen.”

     Muffled complaints came from the man as Dante’s fingers tightened further before tossing him at the others, knocking several of them over. They helped each other stand back up but none of them moved to leave. 

     “Now scram,” Dante’s brow furrowed, “Last chance before you really start pissin’ me off.”

     With that final warning, the group ran like the wind and disappeared. A small laugh came from the red devil as he re-entered the shop. 

     “So,” Dante set Force Edge back where it was, “What is a guy like you doin’ being chased by a mob at this hour, huh?” He leaned against the edge of his desk, folding his arms. 

     “I uh,” your face became hotter and hotter as you looked at the smiling man, calling him stunning was an understatement. It didn’t help that he was lightly soaked from the rain which was dripping down his body, emphasizing his physique, “I just pissed off the wrong folks, that’s all.”

     “Uh-huh,” Dante pushed off his desk and wandered over to you, “That why you smell like gunpowder, blood, and demons? Or’s that some sort of weird cologne?”

     You froze.

     “You know," he continued, "it’s not every day I get to meet someone in the same line of work as me,” he now stood in front of you, his hands stuck in his pockets and a casual tilt to his posture. 

     “I-- What?”

     Dante’s smile widened, “You’re a demon hunter, right?” 

     Your expression said it all, making the young man laugh.

     “Now,” he turned from you striding over to the corner of the room, “as payment for waking me up from my nap,” the white-haired man stood near one of the couches, grabbing his black long-sleeve shirt off the back, “You’re gonna take me with you to finish your hunt.”

     As he slid the tight fabric over his body, all you could do was stare. Not only was watching him get dressed semi-erotic, but, the idea that you’d finally met someone else who enjoyed demon hunting like you do was enough to send shivers down your spine.

     “That’s what you were doing right?” The red-clad man raised a brow as he slid on his vest, buckling the straps.

     You blinked back into existence with a nod, “Yeah, you sure you want to come with? It isn’t exactly a small job, and,” you avoided his gaze, “it’s not only demons.”

     “There are cultists, too--I know,” Dante slid on his gloves, “Figured that out the moment I saw ‘em outside,” he tossed his coat on, adjusting the lapels.

     “O-oh…”

     He meandered over to the same sword from earlier, placing it on his back, “So,” he raised a brow, “We doin’ this or what?”

     You smiled sheepishly, “Sure.”

     “Ah… Almost forgot,” Dante turned around and opened a desk drawer, grabbing his keys, “Here, catch,” he tossed you a box of shells, “Those work?”

     “Really-- I- Yeah, why are you..?”

     Dante began to walk out the door, you right behind him, “Can’t do all the work myself, babe,” he turned to you with a smile.

     After he locked the door, you led him to a building that was right outside of Red Grave; it was an old abandoned apartment complex. The two of you made quick work of the job; given, it was half-finished from your earlier attack.

     Despite not even knowing each other’s names, the two of you fought together quite well. Neither of you got in each other’s way. When you did interact, it was damn near perfectly choreographed; as if you’d known each other for a long time.

     “You know,” Dante dodged a Death Scissors, “You’re pretty good at this.”

     “Oh yeah?” A small amount of playful sarcasm loomed over your words, “I’m still not impressed with you,” you ducked underneath a Frost’s attack and shot it right in the small of its back, “mister white-haired stranger.”

     “Eh,” he used Force Edge to slice three Abyss in half, “Had to leave you something to fight.”

     Both of you shared a laugh and stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the carnage. Dante turned to see a cultist trying to escape. The red devil pointed Ebony up and shot the human, much to your dismay.

     “Hey,” you shoved his shoulder, “You stole my final kill.”

     “Oh,” he holstered Ebony and turned to you, “Didn’t see your name on ‘em, sorry.”

     You playfully rolled your eyes and sighed, “Thanks for your help,” you avoided his eyes, which were trained on your face, “I appreciate it.”

     “No problem,” Dante smiled, “This was fun, been a long time since I’ve had a partner to work with,” he stretched his arms upwards, cracking his shoulders, “Lady’s been off doing her own thing lately.”

     “Lady?” You raised a brow, suspicious of the red devil’s seemingly fake person.

     “She’s an old friend,” Dante and you began to descend back down the building’s stairs. It wasn’t until the two of you got outside before he spoke again, “Hey, so,” his voice was quieter than before, “You work by yourself all the time or?”

     “Yeah,” you sighed and placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Never been able to find someone who’d join me on a hunt.”

     “Well,” Dante put his hands in his pockets, “If you want, I’ve got an open spot at my shop...”

     “Really?”

     “Mhm, haven’t had a partner in a while and could use the company.”

     You laughed.

     “What?”

     “I don’t even know your name and you are offering me a job?”

     The red devil stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”

     You smiled and shook his hand, “Well, Dante, I think I’ll take up that job offer,” you sheepishly turned your head away and mumbled, “I think I could use some company, too.”

===

     “You coming?” 

     A sudden flat voice from your doorway made you jump with a loud startled shout. Quickly, you turned around to see Dante, fully geared up, and leaning against your doorframe with his arms neatly folded.

     “I- Yeah, sorry,” you shook your head, “Just lost in thought.”

     Dante stood up, saying nothing, and headed back downstairs into the garage. 

     With pursed lips, you continued to get ready; that’s when it hit you. Dante must've been standing there for quite some time, watching you; you who was standing in bagging half falling off underwear the entire time. Your face became hot, the idea of Dante seeing you this exposed was enough to make your mind reel. Shaking off the growing hot feeling, you shoved yourself into your hunting gear; which included Dante’s Ifrit and your shotgun, Revenant.

     Upon reaching the garage, you saw that Dante had already started the bike and was waiting outside for you to join him. Although you weren’t sure, you swear it looked like he was smiling at you; only hinted at by small creases in his cheeks. You joined him in the alley with a stuck-out hand, waiting for Rebellion, which he gave you. As you slid the sword on your back, you flashed a wide smile and playful wink at Dante. Then you mounted the back of the bike and a heavy wave of embarrassment filled your face as you firmly placed your hands on Dante’s waist. 

     Without a word, Dante kicked up the stand and you were off. As you held onto him, you couldn’t help but lean further onto his body, your face against his back. His cologne was that of lemongrass, lavender, and a light dusting of patchouli. You took a deep inhale, sighing longingly at the comforting scent; which didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired hunter. 

     The two of you arrived shortly at the nearby city. Once both of you dismounted the bike, Dante stuck his hand out--mimicking what you’d done earlier. With a smirk, you pulled Rebellion off your back and held it out in front of you, blade facing down and your fingers tightly wrapped around the grip. The red devil grabbed the sword, making sure to just barely ghost your hand with his in the process. 

     A bright blush adorned your face as you gave him a small content laugh and looked at the less-then-happy scene before you. To say that the place was crawling with demons would’ve been an understatement. 

     An irritated long groan came from you as you slumped forward, “Those pictures must’ve been old; this is so much worse,” you looked over at Dante who was staring at you, “Wanna call in the ladies?”

     “No,” he turned from you and began to walk toward the city.

     With a baffled sigh, you shook your head and jogged to catch up to him, walking right beside him.

     When the two of you got to the edge of the zone, a large platoon of soldiers was along the city’s edge. As expected, the two of you were approached by the armed people and questioned as to why you were there. 

     You sighed softly, “We were hired by the city to come in and exterminate the infestation.”

     A mixture of various “bullshit”s and “no way”s were heard throughout the platoon. A greatly unamused Dante slyly reached down and grabbed one of your fingers with one of his, a sign he used when he wanted to move forwards.

     “Just stay out of our way,” you shoved past the soldiers, Dante right beside you. Before you got too far, you stopped and turned to the men, “Wait about thirty minutes and start sweeping this end of the city for survivors, continuing further inwards; we’ll have most of the demons cleared out for you.”

     Once more there were various forms of ill-natured or overly skeptical comments from the crowd; but, after all these years of hunting, it was expected at this point. The two of you just continued onwards, Dante’s finger still wrapped around one of yours.

     It didn’t take long for you to encounter a horde. At first, you were excited and readied Ifrit; however, Dante has taken up to not allowing you to fight anything more than Misras or Frosts. Today was no different.

     You vocalized your irritation (as you had done many times before) but it always fell on deaf ears, Dante simply didn’t care. Things came to a head when you were nearly finished with the job and the red devil had been nearly gutted by a group of demons but he still wouldn’t let you fight.

     “Dante,” you furrowed your brow as the two of you walked on, “Could you at least let me kill something? I’m getting bored with fighting small fries and playing cheerleader.”

     The red devil stopped and looked over at you, but said nothing.

     “Come on,” you made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lip in a pouty manner, “Please?”

     “I can handle it,” he turned to continue on the path, “You are a human; humans are fragile.”

     “Excuse me?” You walked beside him, “You forget you’re human, too?” 

     “I can heal within seconds,” he glared at you from the corner of his eye, “You can’t.”

     You moved your jaw in thought, mulling over things before speaking again, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should push yourself like this,” the red devil’s head turned slightly, indicating he was listening, “Just ‘cause you can heal…” You reached out and lightly grabbed his bicep, “I’m your partner, remember? I’m here to help you.”

     Dante stopped and pivoted to look at you. His brow was slightly upturned and his eyes held an odd unplaceable emotion, “I know.”

     A small sad tilt decorated your brow as you lightly squeezed his arm before letting go. You had an inkling as to why he acted this way but had never been able to be sure; hell would have to freeze over before you’d get a clear answer from the red-clad half-breed.

     The two of you entered the center of the city where the demons seemed to have come from. In the middle of the large leveled area was a large mass of sorts. Both of you knew exactly what it was, the start of a demon nest.

     Almost as if on cue, an insurmountably large quantity of demons revealed themselves. The two of you split apart. Finally, you were able to fight something decent and were relishing in it. Your targets were, for the most part, Blades and Gladiuses; which wasn’t that big of a challenge but it is better than nothing. A smile shot across your face as you got to have some fun with Ifrit for the first time in years.

     In the complete opposite of an over-strained Dante trying to deal with several Plasmas and Blitzes.

     You had nearly finished up your half (well more like two-thirds) of the horde and destroyed the budding nest before you noticed Dante struggling. Quickly, you killed the last of your targets and rushed over to help the red devil, who had just been thrown through a building. 

     “Dante!” You kneeled down by him, “Hey, you alright?”

     “I’m… fine,” his voice was strained as he tried to sit upright, only to bare his teeth with a grimace.

     “Stay here, I’ll take care of this,” you stood up but found that your wrist was ensnared by Dante’s grasp.

     “No,” he attempted to stand again.

     “Dante, I can handle them,” you tugged your hand away, “Let go of me, please.”

     His expression was blank as his fingers only tightened around you.

     “Dante…” Now, you are starting to get irritated.

     “I can handle them, just let me do it,” he stood up and you saw that his ribcage had concaved, clearly broken.

     “No Dante-- You are in no condition to fight right now,” you pursed your lips, “I can finish this,” giving him one last chance to let go.

     “No, I am fine.”

     “Goddamnit Dante!” You snapped at him and yanked your hands out of Ifrit’s gauntlets, removing Dante’s grip on you, “You’re always protecting everyone else, so please, for once in your life,” you stalked over to Rebellion, which had been stuck in the ground nearby when Dante attempted to stop himself, grabbed it tightly and turned back to him, “Let me protect you.”

     His eyes widened, showing a mixture of confusion and anger, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. You had already gone off and were slaying the rest of the demons using Rebellion. If Dante wanted you to stop, he could have recalled his sword; he should’ve recalled the blade but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

     Although you were still concerned for Dante, you couldn’t deny that you were having the time of your life. You'd only been allowed to use Rebellion one other time on the field, which was shortly after being hired at the DMC. The feeling of wielding such a mighty blade was insurmountable; not only that, but the frictionless feeling of slicing through demons was damn near erotic. A wide smile spread across your face as you finished off the final few demons, pinning the final Plasma down into the ground using the blade. 

     “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

     “You’re just jealous that I got more kills than you,” with a playful shake of your head and a small laugh, you pulled Rebellion back out of the ground and turned around. Dante had healed and was giving you quite the venomous glare, your expression dropped, “What?”

     He aggressively grabbed the sword from your hand, placed it on his back, and turned to walk back the way you came, “We’re leaving.”

     You bent down and picked up Ifrit, sliding the fiery devil’s gauntlets back on, “Huh? We haven’t done our sweep back--”

     “Now!” His voice was much angrier than you’d heard in a long time, so you remained silent and followed behind him. 

     The walk and ride back to the shop were eerily quiet. Neither of you said a word, not even to the soldiers that you passed in the city. During the bike ride, you did your best not to latch onto the red devil and held onto the bike itself--which wasn't exactly comfortable or easy, but you were pissed off and didn't care.

     As the two of you entered the shop, you had thought about saying something to the devil but weren’t going to give him that satisfaction; no, you just silently went up to your room and slammed the door behind you. Leaving him in the foyer, alone.

     Doing your best to ignore the guilty feeling in your gut, you hopped in a quick shower and took a small unintentional cat nap on your bed right after. Around an hour later, you woke up and groggily wandered downstairs to get a glass of water--and to see where Dante had gone. As you looked around, you pursed your lips in confusion. Dante typically after a job would just get drunk at his desk or on the couch but he was nowhere to be found. It was rare for him to actually go to his room; but, then again, it is even rarer for the two of you to have a disagreement or fight like this. A sigh left your lips as you traversed back to your room. A small amount of regret lingered at the edges of your mind for using such harsh words at the poor devil.

     Mindlessly, you had wandered to stand in front of his room and stood there with your hand up, ready to knock. After a minute you decided to put your hand back down, hoping that maybe he’d be the one to come to you and apologize for once. With a heavy sigh, you entered your room and turned the light on, then nearly had a heart attack. 

     There, sitting silently on the edge of your bed, was Dante in his boxers and a long-sleeve black baggy shirt. His forearms were resting on his legs--one of which was bouncing nervously, his hands intertwined as he mindlessly twisted and played with his fingers, and his gaze fixated on the floor.

     “Uh… Dante? Everything okay?” You shut the door, set your glass of water down, and slowly walked over to the bed, sitting beside him. 

     “You remember why I hired you?” His voice was soft and sad, something was wrong.

     You shook your head, confused at the seemingly out-of-nowhere question, “Huh?”

     “Do you remember why I hired you?”

     “Because you said you needed company..?”

     His lips twitched at the answer; however, he said nothing and just stared at the floorboards in front of him.

     “Dante?” You gently and cautiously grabbed his forearm, making his leg stop bouncing.

     His voice became even softer, becoming barely audible, “Do you regret it?”

     Your brow softened as your fingers gripped him tighter, “Dante…” 

     His brow furrowed as he moved his jaw for a second before giving you a sad huffed laugh, “I wouldn’t blame you if--”

     “Stop,” you stood up and moved to stand in front of him, then knelt between his legs, “Look at me,” his eyes coyly met yours as you grabbed both his hands, “I have never regretted anything I’ve done with you, nor will I ever.”

     A small quiver found its way to Dante’s lip, “Why?”

     “What do you mean why?” You gave him a bittersweet smile, “I like being with you, Dante.”

     He opened his mouth but no sound came out, only a crack and a small whimper as tears filled his eyes. Then you did what you should’ve done the moment he started talking, you stood up and enveloped him in a tight hug. Dante quickly wrapped himself around you. The red devil’s fingers dug into your back and grabbed generous handfuls of your shirt. 

     Half-formed sentences and choked-up versions of “I’m sorry” are all that he could manage through the unwavering barrage of tears. All you could do was hold him tight and tell him that everything’s okay--that he doesn’t have to apologize, not for breaking down like this. Gently, you kneaded against his shoulder blades and placed one hand in his hair, petting him. You noticed his hair was wet; which, not only meant that’s where he was when you were searching for him but, this was the first time he'd taken a real shower in nearly three weeks. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before his tears began to slow, eventually boiling down to just small hiccups. 

     However, his hold on you didn’t loosen, if anything, it got tighter. You had placed the side of your face against the top of his head and quietly hummed, hoping to comfort him.

     “Hey…” Dante’s voice was thick and quiet, a hint of nervousness ghosted his words.

     “Hm?”

     “Would it be okay to stay like this? Just for a little longer…” He waited with bated breath for your response.

     “Mnmm… How about this,” you pulled back from him, making him hesitantly release you. A small warm smile tugged at your lips as you straddled his lap and re-wrapped yourself around him with your legs around his middle, “This okay?”

     Through your shirt, you could feel Dante hum with a small smile, “Mhm,” his arms regrafted themselves to your body as he pushed his head into your body.

     The two of you sat together for nearly two hours, Dante softly purring against your skin as you lightly rubbed his back and played with his hair. If the front door hadn’t opened, the two of you would’ve stayed linked together for much longer. 

     “I’ll get it,” you slid off his lap but were stopped by Dante grabbing your wrist.

     “Do you have to?” His expression was oddly shy, which sent a sharp pang of love through your heart.

     “Join me?” You smiled as you pulled him up. A small surprised laugh left your mouth as you felt him lace your fingers together.

     A bright smile adorned your face as the two of you made your way downstairs and found Morrison standing in the foyer.

     “Afternoon, Mr. Morrison!” You waved with a small happy noise but realized that he was staring with wide eyes. 

     “I’m not… interrupting, am I..?”

     You stared at him in confusion before you realized how the two of you looked; both of you were semi-disheveled, only in underwear and a shirt, and Dante’s hand was in yours, “No! No- not at all! We-- It’s not what it--”

     “You are," Dante released your hand, moving further into the room, “but it is my fault for not locking the door. What’s up?”

     A sputtered confused noise left your lips as your face became unbearably hot, mortified at what Dante was implying.

     Morrison laughed, “Blunt as always, huh Dante?” 

     “Why bother lying about it,” Dante leaned against his desk, arms folded casually.

     The broker shook his head with a smile, “I’m just here to drop off payment from the job earlier,” he handed Dante a thick envelope, “The client was impressed with how quickly the two of you worked--made sure to get it to you just as fast and added a little extra cash, too.”

     “Oh? Really?” Dante opened the packet and counted the cash quickly, “Huh… Thanks, Morrison.”

     Morrison did a double-take, taken aback at not only Dante’s words but, Dante’s willingness to talk, “No problem, Dante…” The broker looked over to you with a raised brow before turning to leave, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll lock the door on the way out. Goodnight you two.”

     “ ‘Night, Mr. Morrison!” Your voice was sweet but still had a lingering sense of embarrassment to it. 

     Dante opened the top desk drawer and tossed the money in it, smiling.

     With a sudden nervousness, you approached the pants-less devil and joined him near the desk, “So… What was Morrison interrupting, Dante?”

     His turquoise eyes slowly moved up to meet yours, a heavy odd feeling behind them. 

     Your face became even hotter as you swallowed hard, “Dante..?”

     “We were sitting together,” small creases formed on his cheeks as he smiled wider, “Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

     Another loud set of sputtered discombobulated noises came from you, unsure how to respond to such a loaded question. 

     A dark chuckle came from Dante as he meandered over to you, slowly inching you towards the wall behind his desk, then placing a hand beside your head, “Something wrong?”

     “No, I--,” you closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to keep yourself from spontaneously combusting in embarrassment, “I’m f-fine.”

     He lifted a brow and placed his free hand on your cheek, running his fingers gently across your skin, “I dunno, you seem rather feverish… You’re not sick, are you?”

     “I’m just a little warm, that’s all,” you let out a half-hearted laugh, doing your best to ignore the pounding in your chest.

     The red devil wasn’t satisfied with this answer and moved his face closer, putting his nose right beside yours, and made half-lidded eye contact, “I don’t believe you.”

     Bit by bit, you leaned closer to him, placing your lips as close as you could without touching his. The two of you hovered for a moment before Dante pulled away and turned to look to his right, “Do you mind?”

     You mimicked Dante's action in confusion and saw Trish standing in the shop. 

     “Lady forgot a few things in the garage,” Trish raised a brow and addressed you, “You believe us now?”

     “Trish!” Dante’s face was bright red, “Seriously?”

     “What?” She placed a hand on her hip, “You do love him, don’t you?”

     Dante mumbled something you didn’t quite catch before his voice returned to the previous volume, “Can you leave? You’re kinda killing the moment.”

     “Just make sure that you two can work in the morning, we have a contract to do.”

     “Trish!”

     She gave you a wide smirk and a wink, “Have fun.”

     The two of you waited for the garage door to shut before Dante sighed, “Guess the moment’s kinda ruined, huh?” 

     He sheepishly turned to you, to which you grabbed his shirt and yanked his lips down to meet yours. A surprised muffled grunt came from the red devil as he placed his hand over yours, his thumb slowly running over your skin and removing you from his shirt. Gradually, he regained control over the situation and pushed you back against the wall. His lips were broiling and desperately pushing against yours, almost painfully so. 

     Dante grabbed the sides of your hips, picking you up slightly, so he could pin you against the wall using only his body and a knee that he had placed between your legs. Your hands frantically grabbed at his body, eventually settling for one hand in his hair and the other groping at his upper back. His hands wandered all over your body, sliding underneath your shirt and touching as much as you as he could. 

     Eventually, you managed to wrap your legs around his middle and his hands slipped down to support you from underneath your thighs. You cupped his face in both your hands to deepen the fervorous kissing. The red devil bit lightly at your lips, asking to enter your mouth. At first, you didn’t let him and playfully denied him entrance. Dante wanted to taste you and wasn’t taking no for an answer, forcing his tongue inside. His tongue was hot and he wanted nothing more than to explore every bit of your mouth, to devour as much as he could. The unexpectedly long appendage made you jolt and gag slightly in surprise, which made Dante smirk with a small amount of pride. 

     Only once you were both out of breath did the two of you separate, leaving you with labored breathing and hazy loving smiles. 

     Your thumbs gently rubbed the stubble that decorated his jawline, “Dante, do you really..?”

     He meekly smiled and mumbled, avoiding your eyes in embarrassment, “You think I’d treat anyone else like you..?”

     You placed a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you… So much”

     A soft huffed laugh came from his nose.

     “What?”

     He placed a small kiss on the side of the base of your neck, “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

     You laughed softly, “Dante,” he looked up at you and you ran a hand through his hair, “You want to know something?”

     “Hmm?” He began to purr and melt into your touch. 

     “Although, there’s obviously more a more emotional aspect now,” you broke eye contact and turned away to avoid his gaze, “When we first met if you had asked me to… ya know… I would’ve,” your face was completely on fire as you regretted opening your mouth.

     “Oh?” Using one hand to support you, he used a hand to turn your face to his, “What was that now?”

     Your voice was high-pitched and cracked from embarrassment, “N-nothing!” 

     He had a sultry smirk tugging at his lips as he ran his thumb over your trembling lips, “You know, I thought about asking for that--instead of joining your hunt.”

     “You-- you did?” Your face only became hotter with each word.

     “Mhm,” Dante put his lips above yours again, “Not every day a smoking hot, sopping wet, guy busts into my shop.”

     The two of you connected lips again and Dante’s hands gripped the sides of your thighs harshly, his nails digging into you, and dipped your ass lower to meet his growing heat. A small growl came from the back of the red devil’s throat as he ground his hips against you. Your hands grabbed his shoulders as you let out a small moan from the friction of Dante’s grinding. In response, Dante began to roll his hips harshly against you, shoving you against the wall with each thrust. Your hips jolted from the sudden rough movements and you broke from the kiss, letting out a low hissing groan. Dante, however, wasn’t done tasting you and immediately placed his lips back over yours; making sure to devour each one of your sweet noises. 

     He turned around and began to support you using only one hand again. With his free hand, he moved his mother’s photo to the desk drawer, closing it softly, and then swept his arm across his desk, throwing everything else off the top--making an absolute mess of the already cluttered shop. 

     Dante dropped you onto the desk and broke the kiss. Quickly, he removed your shirt and began to bite at whatever he could, making you squirm from the sudden, almost animalistic, aggression. His teeth broke through your skin and Dante excitedly lapped up the crimson lines, letting out a continuous lowly growl. A sharp loud gasp left your mouth as you arched your back towards him in response to him biting your neck; still drawing blood as he did for the other marks. Your fingers dug into him only further encouraging him to do it again.

     However, you weren’t about to let Dante have all the fun. You kneaded your way down his torso and to the edge of his boxers. Coyly, you palmed over his bulge with widening eyes. Of course, it was easy to tell that Dante had a nice dick from how visible it is through his pants but you didn’t expect it to get that much bigger.

     The sultry devil caught onto your sudden surprise and let out a small breathy laugh against your neck, “What’s the matter, babe?” He ran his tongue along one of the bleeding marks, “Surely you knew..?”

     “I,” your mind was blank, “I thought you were a shower, not a grower,” you let out a half-huff half-laugh noise through your nose.

     “Oh, just you wait,” a small seductive laugh came from him as he leaned back up to look you in the eyes, “Still not quite there yet.”

     You rolled your eyes and casually draped your arms over his shoulders, “You know, just cause it’s big doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to use it,” you let out a playful low laugh, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. 

     Dante leaned in, “Oh, don’t worry,” he kissed you again, “I know exactly what you like,” smiling happily. 

     The two of you exchanged loud pecking kisses, “Mhm, sure you do.” 

     He stopped and left his lips right above yours, his breath ghosting your kiss-swollen lips, “I can hear things, you know…” 

     Your eye went wide, “Wh-what are you--”

     “Every night, in your room,” he moved to kiss right behind your jaw, whispering against your skin giving you goosebumps, “Begging for me, saying my name,” he ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “You’re much louder than you think, babe,” Dante gently bit your ear before he leaned back up to meet your gaze. 

     All you could do was stare back. Admittedly, it had crossed your mind a few times over the years that Dante might be able to hear you but you figured that he would’ve said something by now; especially with how long it’s been since you moved in. The idea that Dante had been listening to you for so long made your entire body hot and threw you for a loop.

     Through all your discombobulated noises, you finally managed to sputter out, “Why didn’t you tell..?”

     “Because,” he leaned in, intensifying his eye contact, “I get off listening to you,” he kissed your jawline, “I love hearing you come undone.”

     A shiver ran up your spine as you completely froze. 

     The red devil noticed your change in expression and began to panic, “I didn’t upset you--!”

     You yanked him down to your mouth, kissing him harshly once more. As you did, your hands ran up his shirt and began to grope at his pecs, eliciting a moan from the white-haired devil. Your nails ran down his body leaving loving irritated red skin, making him groan much louder.

     He broke off from the kiss and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in a random direction in the shop. When he looked back at you, his heart skipped a beat at the face you were making. Although you were obviously already flustered, your face had turned darker by tenfold and your eyes were wide; staring directly at Dante’s bare body.

     “What?” He smiled with a tilt of his head and hips, “Like what you see?”

     You coyly reached out to touch his chest again, Dante watching you intently. Softly, you kneaded against him and whispered, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

     Now it was his turn to become red in the face, “H-huh?”

     “I said,” your voice returned to normal volume, “You’re gorgeous, Dante…”

     He stared at you. Although the red devil plays the confident type, his self-esteem was rather poor, and, to be quite frank, he hated how he looked most days; being reminded of his dead brother every time he looked in a mirror. However, hearing you say something so simple and, yet, so impactful made his head spin and his heart wrench.

     You leaned in and placed a string of gentle kisses along his collarbones. As you did, you could hear him purring ever-so-slightly and were able to feel the vibrations through your lips. Eventually, Dante snapped out of his stupor, he slipped his hands into your underwear and found purchase on your ass, groping and kneading against you harshly. Next, you placed kisses up his neck and placed a long kiss against his Adam’s apple, pushing against it slightly; eliciting a groan from Dante. 

     Now back up at his lips, you connected with him once again. The red devil leaned you back onto the barren desk, without breaking the kiss, and pulled your hips tight to his. Once you were fully laid back, Dante moved down your jaw all the way down to your chest with soft kisses. A loud hiss left your mouth as you felt him bite down on one of your nipples, tugging on it slightly--doing his best to make sure he didn’t give you an accidental piercing. 

     “Fuck… Dante,” you ran your hands through his hair and looked down at him, he was already staring back at you; something was different, “Hey,” he released his bite, “You-- You alright?”

     His brow twitched in confusion and he tilted his head, his gaze thinned.

     “Your uh… eyes are--” You pursed your lips, his eyes had become a vibrant burning red-orange

     “Oh- Oh!” Dante laughed softly, “Don’t worry about that,” his voice was quiet, seemingly shy, “I’m just excited, that’s all.”

     You smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over his flushed skin. He moved back up to you and stared down at you. His eyes are the exact same as when he uses his Devil Trigger except for his pupils, which are heavily dilated. It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous Dante really is, how much stronger than you he is.

     “Are you sure you are alright with me-- with us-- doing this?” His brow was upturned and his voice was filled with a unquenchable lust that made your entire body hot.

     “Of course,” you gave him a long drawn-out kiss and bit his lower lip, slowly pulling on it, “I wouldn't have it any other way,” you felt him shift his hips slightly and whispered against his lips, “I want you, please, Dante.”

     He nodded and took a deep breath, leaning back up. 

     Before he could do anything, you sat up and pushed him away lightly with your fingertips on his chest. A sultry smirk tugged at your lips as you slowly slid down to your knees, placing the occasional kiss along his abdomen. 

     Dante’s breath hitched upon realizing what you were doing, “You don’t have to- ah~” He let out a small groan at the feeling of your lips against his still-clothed cock. 

     You looked up at him and placed a few more kisses down his trapped shaft, feeling him twitch against you. With almost painfully slow movements you kissed back up his shaft then slid your fingers behind the band of his boxers, pulling them down. His cock sprung up proudly, already dribbling pre-cum. 

     With a small smirk, you looked up at him and ran your tongue up the underside of his dick, making sure to lap up the small bits of milky fluid. His eyes broke from yours and were staring upwards.

     “Dante,” you stopped, making him look back down at you, “Look at me, please,” you leaned back in closer to his body, whispering against his sensitive flesh, “I want to see if you are enjoying what I am doing or not”

     He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know how long I… If I watch you.”

     You smiled and let out a sultry laugh, placing a kiss on the underside of his tip, “That’s fine, as long as I get to watch you cum.”

     The red devil’s face was bright red, not only from your words but from, watching you give his slit small kitten licks. You made your way down his shaft with slow kisses again, reveling in how much he was squirming from your touch. Once down to his base, you moved to the side--between his cock and the meat of his thigh--and bit down on him, leaving a loving dark mark. All the while Dante was groaning quietly as he bit his lower lip, attempting to stifle his vulnerable noises. In fact, he was biting down so hard that blood had begun to trickle down his chin.

     After you felt the mark was dark enough, you placed several kisses on his balls and curled your tongue around his shaft, moving from the very base all the way back up. Slowly, you placed your lips around his cockhead and made sure to watch as Dante released his lower lip, unable to contain himself any longer. Bit by bit you took his length into your mouth, to the best of your ability; it’s not every day you suck an eight-inch cock after all. 

     Unhurriedly you bobbed your head up and down, making sure to savor his taste and the lewd mewls that he was making. You used one hand to play with his balls, making him buck his hips at the unexpected touch. Cautiously, he placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers just barely ghosting against you. Noticing his hesitation, you used your free hand to push his palm harder against you. As you worked yourself into a rhythm, you noticed that he was moving his hips gently into you, making you take him in ever-so-slightly deeper with each intake. 

     You placed your free hand on your own dick and began to stroke yourself at the sight of Dante towering above you. He was breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes and was moaning sweet praises; such as “Holy shit” or “Goddamnit”. 

     After a while, you moved back to kiss down his shaft and his balls. Carefully, you licked his sack and took one of his balls into your mouth very gently sucking on it.

     Dante put his hands against the wall, pushing up, and arched his back as he let out a loud unfiltered moan, "Fuckin~~! God~" His fingers clawed through the wallpaper, all he wanted was to grab you and fuck into the back of your throat, but he needed to be careful and have patience; the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

     As you released his ball, you lightly ran your teeth against the skin, making him let out another loud moan. You flattened your tongue and ran it up between his balls, making sure to go slowly between them, all the way back to his tip only to generously give his slit more kitten licks. 

     Once again, you returned to bobbing up and down on his cock, moving a bit faster this time. One of your hands began to fondle his balls again whilst the other wrapped around to hold the back side of his thighs; encouraging him to thrust harder into your face. The red devil caught on quickly to the idea and placed both his hands on the back of your head and began to thrust his hips into you. 

     Admittedly, it was perhaps a bad idea to encourage him to face-fuck you since he managed to make you deep-throat him; something you weren’t able to do. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes at the feeling. All you could do was wrap both your arms around his thighs and hold on for dear life, hoping he didn’t get any rougher. 

     Thankfully, it didn’t take Dante long to reach his peak. Your eyes met with his and he let out a thunderous whining moan as his fingers dug into the back of your head, pushing his cock as far into your mouth as he could. As expected, his cum didn’t taste the greatest--caused by his diet or lack-there-of, it was very salty and rather bitter. On top of that, he was choking you and pushing rather hard into the back of your throat but that didn’t matter much; you got what you’ve been lusting after for so long. 

     The look on his face alone made it worth the probable sore throat in the morning. He was disheveled with his hair falling in front of his face, some of which was stuck to the thin layer of sweat on his brow. His eyes were heavy and even more dilated than before. A dark red stain adorned his lower lip from his own smeared blood. Heavy labored breaths left his ajar lips, giving you a good look at his sharp teeth. You could tell that he wanted you, that he wasn’t done with you yet; which is exactly what you’d hoped for. 

     You felt him pet the back of your head as you removed his cock from your mouth. With heavy eyes of your own, you looked up at him with your mouth hung open slightly and breathing heavily. He noticed the tears that had finally run down your face and thumbed them off your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands. 

     Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against one of his hands and took his thumb into your mouth, biting it softly. 

     Dante’s voice was soft, “Can we do more?”

     With a smirk, you let go of his finger and stood up, placing a hand on his chest, “You sure you’re up for it?”

     The red devil picked you up, placing his head between your neck and shoulder, whispering in a low dark tone, “My room or yours?”

     A shiver ran up your spine, “E-either one’s fine-!”

     Dante bit down softly over one of the marks he made earlier in an attempt to satiate some of his growing desires, internally he felt himself becoming increasingly impatient. After a minute of thought, he went upstairs with you still in his arms and kissing your marred skin. Dante decided to use his room; after all, he knows where his lube is--plus he doesn’t have to worry about ruining your bedding, bed, or room in the heat of the moment. 

     He supported you with one arm as he futzed with the doorknob. You grabbed his face and moved it to yours, kissing him once again. Dante’s kisses were much less innocent and sweet this time; this time, they were overtly lustful and sinful. He wanted to indulge both himself and you in these unholy urges, to make you feel as good as he does; which, come hell or high water, is exactly what he’s going to do. 

     Finally, he got the door open and pushed it open using your back. Your hands made their way up to his hair, grabbing handfuls of it as he placed both his hands on your ass, pulling you as tight to him as he could. The only light in the room was provided by the sunset that was peaking through the blinds on his window; which poured directly onto the bed. He brought you both to the foot of his bed and laid you down, moving his kisses down your neck and to your shoulder. 

     When Dante leaned up the sight before him is one that will be immortalized in his jumbled mind. You were a hazy mess and were sprawled out on the untidy sheets. The sunlight gave your body a golden glow and only emphasized how beautiful you are to him. You looked heavenly, angelic almost. A small amount of pity sat at the edge of Dante’s mind, pity at how he is going to stain your pure and holy nature; how this devil is going to destroy you.

     He grabbed one of your hands and kissed the back of it, placing genteel warm kisses up your arm and stopping on your shoulder. His breath was hot and tickled your ear as he whispered to you, “I love you,” he placed a long kiss on the side of your neck, “So damned much…”

     Before you could speak, he placed a soft peck on your lips and stood up, moving over to his bedside table. You scooched up further onto the bed and Dante climbed onto it, a bottle of lube now in hand, sitting on his knees. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he looked heavenly or if he looked demonic; perhaps he is both a devil and an angel wrapped up in a half-human shell. The sunlight made him appear god-like; between the sheer definition of his frame and the orange eyes that were trained on you, he looked surreal. Said eyes were flicking all over your body, absorbing every bit of you that he could, but he was hesitant; what if he messes things up?

     After a few minutes, you sat up and placed a hand on his bicep, “Hey, you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to do more, Dante.”

     He shook his head, “No, I want this, I want you. I just--” his gaze broke from yours and mumbled, just barely audible, “I’m nervous.”

     You gave him a gentle smile, thumbing over his arm, “You’re doing great, Dante,” you leaned the top of your head against his chest, closing your eyes, “Besides, that’s supposed to be my line.”

     He let out a warm laugh and placed his hands on your back, kneading against you. 

     After a moment, Dante leaned you back down and slid his hands into your underwear. He pulled your last bit of clothing off and tossed it somewhere within the messy room, then he took his own off; leaving you both completely exposed. The red devil then paused in thought for a moment before carefully turning you over onto your stomach.

     You peered over your shoulder at Dante. He was staring at your bare form, biting his lip. A small groan left your mouth as you felt him place his warm hands on your ass, kneading. After a moment, you heard him shuffle around and then he sat for a moment. A sharp gasp came from you as you felt him smack your ass then aggressively grabbed the slowly redding side. Dante’s lip twitched into a smirk as he did it again, hearing you let out another moan. 

     He put both hands back down and groped at your ass, listening to your whimpering beneath him. Admittedly, he wanted to continue teasing you but he was losing grip on his own emotions; fighting back an urge to Trigger. So, he let go of your tender flesh and grabbed the bottle of lube. Instinctively, you put your ass up a bit; laying in a downward dog position. Dante split apart your cheeks and applied a generous amount of lube before slowly running his finger around your hole. 

     A small buck of your hips back told Dante you wanted him to hurry up so he slid one finger inside you. You buried your face into the bedding in hopes to suppress your voice but were quickly pulled back up by Dante’s hand carefully around your throat. 

     Through a strained growl, Dante confidently huffed, “I want to hear everything, and,” he leaned down, slowly adding a second finger, and whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you to fake anything.” He kissed the back of your neck, “I want your real reactions, ‘kay?”

     Quickly you nodded, laying your head to the side and letting out a quiet groan as you felt his fingers fuck into you faster. Dante curled his fingers towards himself and felt you jolt forwards as you let out a guttural groan. So, he repeated the action and, when you repeated the same response, he continued to do it faster and faster. 

     Dante added more lube and slid in a third digit and saw that your brow furrowed a bit, grimacing slightly; however, you didn’t tell him to stop so he pushed it in further. As he played with your hole, he noticed you had begun to practically ride his hand. Mindlessly he opened his mouth and began to play with his teeth using his tongue, he found himself distantly regretting waiting so long and wished he had been able to gratify these taboo feelings sooner. 

     “Dante,” you stared at him from the corner of your eyes, “I want you,” you felt his fingers quicken, making you moan, “Please, Dante.”

     The red devil shifted his jaw in thought, still playing with your ass. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him longer but he couldn’t deny that he was also growing increasingly desperate. With a small sigh, he removed his fingers and gently coaxed you to turn over; laying belly up. 

     Slowly, he ran a hand down your middle and gently thumbed over your aching cock, and the pre-cum that decorated the tip. You whimpered from the unexpected feeling of your long-neglected arousal. Dante leaned back to sit his butt on his heels and, using some lube, stroked himself to the sight before him. 

     Once fully slicked up, Dante aligned himself with your hole. A devilish smirk tugged at his lips as he teased you, running his tip along your hole; he wanted to hear you beg as he had heard in secret for so many years. 

     “Please Dante,” you pursed your lips and rolled your hips, “Please, I can’t-- Please~!”

     With a low growl, he pushed his tip inside and you let out a sharp gasp at the feeling. 

     Bit by bit Dante entered your body. You were doing your best not to tighten your body around the unfamiliar feeling. Admittedly, it made your whole body tingle in delight; never had you had such a large partner--living or plastic--making this quite a new and thrilling experience. It took nearly a minute for Dante to finally be fully inside and both of you were already on edge. You reached up for Dante’s head, pulling him down for a kiss. Your legs rested on the outsides of his hips, allowing him to bend down fully to kiss you. The kisses were slow, loud, sloppy kisses; both of you were a mess.

     Dante sat back up, holding you around your thighs, and ever-so-slightly pulled back then pushed back inside. He continued these small careful movements for some time. 

     “More, please, Dante,” you spoke between heavy breaths, “I don’t want you to hold back,” you flashed him a warm sultry smile, “Do whatever you want with me, Daddy~” You added a playful wink to the end and laughed as his eyes went wide with embarrassment.

     Your laughter quickly died down when you felt him quickly pull out over half his length and jab it right back in eliciting you to let out a loud unfiltered moan, “Do whatever I want, huh?” He gave you a dark full-teeth smile, you felt your stomach drop in a fearful arousal type of way.

     Dante pulled out almost the whole way and, once again, slammed right back inside. You let out another sharp moan and arched your back at the feeling. The red devil repeated this action until all you could hear in the shop was his balls hitting your ass and you spouting out random jibberish; singing the devil’s praises. 

     You went to jack yourself off but were stopped by Dante’s hand grabbing your wrist. Without slowing down, Dante leaned down and looked you dead in the eye, “You only get to cum when I say you can, babe.”

     “What~Ah~!” 

     Dante yanked you up to sit on his lap, making hard deep hard jackrabbit thrusts right into your prostate. As he did that, he also had begun to bite over your skin again and his hands hand found their way to your ass; groping it hard. You wrapped your arms around him and held on to him, leaving deep scratches on his upper back. His lips met with yours again for more sloppy wet kisses, his hands slowly traveled to underneath your thighs. 

     In one swift motion, he had both of you up off the bed and you pushed against his wall. His thrusts had slowed to a moderate pace but were still short, only pulling out two or three inches. You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and bit down on his shoulder. Dante let out a loud sharp unfiltered moan and his fingers dug into your skin, clawing into your thighs. 

     Once you felt the mark was deep enough, you placed a few more; making sure to mar up each side, and with each bite, you got another frantic moan. You leaned back to admire your work and felt him start making longer, more drawn-out movements, purposefully teasing. 

     Now resting his head against the side of your neck, he placed a few kisses, “I don’t remember saying you could bite me, babe.”

     “Whatcha gonna do about it, hm?” 

     Dante pulled out of you and the next thing you knew you were being pushed face down into the floor, his hand grasping the back of your head tightly. He re-inserted himself inside you and began to fuck you even harder than before; pulling out to the very tip and slamming into you. Using his other hand, he took one of your arms and held it behind you, pinning it to your back. Your free hand was stretched in front of you and you were gripping the floor with your fingertips, desperately trying to ground yourself. 

     Admittedly, you were on cloud nine as you felt him continuously re-penetrate your hole. Your legs felt weak and you began to, unknowingly, drop your hips down; which caught Dante’s attention. The red devil pulled himself back out and took you to the bed, laying you face up. He remained on his feet and re-inserted himself, then yanked your legs up and over his shoulders. All you could do was grip the bedding tightly and continue to babble random moaning phrases to him, egging him on further. 

     This pose didn’t last long, Dante removed your legs and leaned down to you. He gave you a long impassioned kiss before resting his forehead against your chest. One of his hands grabbed yours, intertwining your fingers, and the other found purchase on your cock. With each jab inwards, he jerked your dick in rhythm with his hips. Your free hand gripped his hair, holding him into your chest. 

     Dante’s voice was ragged and low, almost desperate sounding, “I don’t know how much longer I…”

     “Cum inside me, Dante,” you didn’t even need to hear the rest, you knew that he wanted to know what to do. 

     He moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder then picked up his pace tenfold, in both his hips and his hand. Your body arched tightly against his and your fingers clasped even tighter around his hand and his hair. It only took a few more short sharp jabs for him to reach his climax, spilling himself deep inside you. Dante’s teeth sunk deep into your skin, breaking it once again, and creating a vice grip on you. 

     The hot feeling from his cum quickly spread throughout your body as his pace around your cock sped up, the combination of the two soon brought you to your own peak, “Fuck, Dante~!” Your voice was loud and semi-whiney and you pushed your head against his. 

     A gentle purr could be heard from him at the sound of your orgasm, despite him still having his teeth sunk into you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair and felt as if you were going to cry. The two of you laid connected for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being so close.

     Dante carefully removed his bite, making you let out a hiss in pain, and released your hand from his. He leaned up and gently removed his cock from your body, making a shiver run up your spine. With a happy content huff, he relaxed back down on you and propped himself up by resting his forearms on your chest. A warm smile and half-lidded eyes adorned his face as he placed a soft innocent kiss on your cheek and then rested his chest on his arms, staring at you.

     Your hands slowly ran up his biceps and rested on his shoulders, mimicking his smile with one of your own. As you thumbed over his skin, you couldn’t help but think about how much you truly cared about Dante. Wandering thoughts devolved to the memories of coming home to a near-dead Dante laying on the bathroom floor; which only further darkened to the idea that it could always happen and, someday, you might not make it home in time to--

     “Hey,” Dante’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. His smile was gone and his brow was creased, “What’s wrong?”

     A tremble found its way to your lips as you stared at him and you realized that you had several tears running down your face. Unable to spit out what you were thinking, you spoke with a small crack in your voice, “Can you come closer?”

     He gave you a small sweet smile with a happy huff, “Here.”

     Dante stood up, picked you up, and placed you on the bed--laying you the correct way. The red devil then slid onto the bed next to you, placing his head on your chest. He laid with his body half on top of you and wrapped his arms around your middle, allowing you to do the same. Although you typically would’ve immediately gone to wash up after such a strenuous event, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of him. A loud robust purring filled the room as both of you relished in the feeling of holding one another.

     You placed a soft long kiss against the top of his head, lingering against him for some time before whispering sweetly against his disheveled hair, “I love you, Dante; you know that, right?”

     The red devil turned his head to look at you better and placed a soft kiss against your lips, “I love you too babe,” he placed his head back on your chest, nuzzling into your hard, his arms wrapping tighter around you, “So damned much.”

==

ENDING NOTES: ;skfajfjlkdsjafkldj this wasn’t supposed to be this long--it’s 22 pages in docs; how the fuck-- This was supposed to be a short Dante smut fic, what happened lmaooo 🍊🍊🍊 Quick thing: If you are curious as to why I think a younger Dante would have issues with how he looks; it is because it reminds him of Vergil (Vergil has the same issue when his hair is down, thinking he looks like his brother--I mean, they are twins after all).  🍊🍊🍊 You know, I have written quite a bit of smut, right? So you’d think that I would stop laughing and getting embarrassed over writing words like “nipple” or “balls” but no, I fucking still giggle to myself like a fucking idiot when I write those words like… wtf is wrong with me smh Like I sit here typing one letter at a time all flustered when writing those two words specifically even though I just wrote about Dante fingerings the reader or like the reader linking Dante’s pre-cum like wtf is wrong with me lmaooo

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[hawkinsglasscloset]

Sappho Punch | Bottoms x Stranger Things AU

Chapter 1: All is Fair in Love and War

Word count: 2k

Warning: strong language, mention of SA, mention of violence and blood.

A/n: So my obsession with the movie Bottoms and my obsession with the show Stranger Things came together to create this baby. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments are greatly appreciated :3

Fall came, but the weather was still pretty summer-like. There was a soft breeze and a sky sprinkled with stars, making that night the perfect night to finally talk to the girl of your dreams. The only issue was... maybe the girl of your dreams was also the girl of your best friend's dreams. 

Hazel and Robin had been friends since third grade, they bonded over being tomboys and eventually their friendship grew deeper, but never into a relationship. They simply could not see each other in that way, not to mention they both were more into femmes, which led them down a long road of falling in love with straight girly girls. 

They usually went for the opposite type, it definitely made things easier when it came to relationships (or the lack thereof, in their case since they were both virgins), they never fought over a girl in all their years of friendship. 

Robin was more into petite redheads and blondes who could sing or play some instrument. Meanwhile, Hazel liked brunettes or girls with colorful hair, taller than her and on the chubbier side.

Unfortunately, as there's a first time for everything, this time they were both in love with the same girl. She wasn't exactly Robin's usual type, neither was she Hazel's usual type. 

Men usually say bros before hoes, straight girls say chicks before dicks, what do gay girls say? Chicks before clits? Well, something of the sort was decided between the two friends. They were definitely NOT gonna fight over some girl. 

And if she ever happened to show interest in any of them... the other would have to gracefully accept it and move on with no hard feelings. All is fair in love and war, but losing someone who has been in your life before you could even do long division was a price they were not willing to pay for coochie.

"If you don't say hi, I'm gonna say hi," Robin said with a nonchalant shrug. 

"She's definitely straight! What are you even thinking?" Hazel cried nervously as she fidgeted with a big roll of tickets and waited for her cotton candy.

"She's British! Maybe that's how British people are... straight looking," Robin shook her friend by the shoulders. 

"I don't think so, I think in Britain they're even gayer looking than usual," Hazel took the cotton candy and shoved part of it in her mouth. "Look! PJ and Josie!" 

The unpopular, supposedly untalented, lesbian crew of Rockbridge Falls was almost all there after the two arrived, Sylvie was the only one missing, but... nobody really wanted Sylvie around (except for her stepdad, of course). 

"What happened to your arm?" Hazel asked, seeing that Josie had a cast on. 

"She ate shit," PJ laughed. 

"She ate literal shit? What the fuck?" Hazel chuckled. "Did you get beat up again? Were you jumped? Was it spy camp? Did you go to juvie?" 

"Yeah, we went to juvie," PJ sarcastically sneered. 

"OH MY GOD, IT WAS JUVIE?" Hazel gasped just as Jeff, their golden boy from the football team was introduced in the most ridiculous fashion, making all the girls scream and beg him to fertilize their eggs. 

"Why are people so obsessed with him?" Robin mumbled. "He has a round jawline... like a girl." 

"I don't get why girls like boys like that. They're like dogs or pigs or... what's the grossest animal?" PJ huffed while the Viking players passed by them without caring if they bumped into someone. 

"The human being, no animals are gross" a soft voice answered her question.

"Naomi!" Robin nearly screamed.

"Where?" Hazel turned and squealed when she was met with the girl she'd been dreaming of for about a year since she moved from London with her mother. 

Naomi was the British straight girl in question. She was tall, taller than both Hazel and Robin (who was already quite tall), but in a delicate way. Her many curves were perfectly hugged by her bellbottom jeans and a crop top that said vegan women taste better. 

She had long jet-black hair and pale skin which gave her a Snow White quality that made both Hazel and Robin lose their minds.

"Hey, mate," Naomi smiled, as her cheerleader friends, Isabel and Brittany joined her. 

While PJ and Josie fumbled to talk to the other two, Hazel and Robin stared at Naomi without knowing what to say. It was like she always stole all the words from their brains. 

"I see you're vegan," Robin pointed at the shirt. 

"Yeah, I don't like to take part in any kind of animal exploitation," Naomi sweetly replied. "They are friends, not food." 

"Did you know Hazel worked all summer on her uncle's farm? In the slaughterhouse!" 

"Shut up!" Hazel hissed and then put a smile back on. "I didn't... I worked at the National Meat Association." 

"That's well bad," Naomi frowned. 

"I know, right? I don't even eat meat-"

"Yeah you do, your favorite food is steak," Robin said before being elbowed right in the boob by her friend. 

"Meat is murder... I just needed a job," Hazel tried to save face. 

"If you don't mind me asking, how much do you get paid there?" Naomi tilted her head. 

"Fifteen bucks an hour, it's pretty good," it really wasn't, not for handling guts and blood for hours and coming home every day looking like the final girl from a slasher film. 

"Say what, if you're interested, the golf course I work at needs new caddies, they pay twenty quid an hour plus tips. The old guys usually tip well if you laugh at their bad jokes."

"Wait, seriously? And I'd get to work with- with you?" Hazel's eyes lit up, not even caring if the old men in question happened to be pervs or not. 

"Yeah, kinda. I drive around serving drinks, we'd see each other all the time."

"Yes, please! I'd love that! The job, I'd love that job!" 

"I'll give you my manager's number tomorrow and you can give her a call to apply, you have the right build for it," Naomi said, eyeing the cotton candy. "Can I get a little bit?" 

"O-of course! Take all of it!" Hazel handed her the remaining of her treat.

"C-could I get a job?" Robin asked timidly. 

"I thought you worked at the video store, you don't like it there?" Hazel quirked an eyebrow at her friend. 

Before Robin could answer, PJ and Josie stormed out, snatching the big roll of tickets from Hazel and giving it to Brittany. 

"Hey, no, steady on," Naomi took the big roll of tickets back from her teammate. "These are Hazel's." 

"She knows my name," Hazel whispered to herself.

"But the little Dutch boy gave it to us," Brittany protested without any heat behind her words, as usual. 

"Don't be a twat, go buy your own," Naomi handed the roll back to Hazel and followed her friends to the nearest ride. "Have fun!" 

"Don't you work at the video store?" Robin repeated in a mocking tone once they were alone. "Fuck you, Hazel! Eat a bag of uncircumcised veiny dicks!" 

"You did way worse! You told her I eat steak!"

"You do!"

"I can stop."

"Isn't your mom throwing a barbecue tomorrow?"

"I can stop... after tomorrow. Anything for love!"

**

The next morning, when school finally started, Jeff showed up in crutches. He looked completely fine with the exception of a nasty black eye, which left PJ and Josie puzzled. 

Yes, they had technically driven into him the night before, but the car barely touched his leg, how the hell did he get hurt like that? He refused to explain anything more than the fact that he was supposedly run over.

That's what they tried to explain to Principal Meyers, but he wasn't having it, he had to protect their perfect quarterback... to escape expulsion then, Josie made up a story. 

She said they were just practicing for their self-defense club, to help the girls be prepared to face Huntington players that might want to hurt them, which had already started to happen. 

"I can't believe they're letting you guys start a fight club," Hazel chuckled as she ate her lunch next to Josie and PJ on the bleachers. 

"No, they're not, we are not!" Josie shook her head, too scared to even think about it. 

"Of course we are! Did you see the way Brittany and Isabel were looking at us?" PJ countered.

"Wait... girls were looking at you because they thought you ran over Jeff?" Hazel asked, her interest piqued.

"Hell yeah! Nothing makes a girl wetter than displays of power and strength," PJ nodded. "If we get this fight club going, we can get whatever girl we want. We just have to learn how to fight..." 

"You guys probably fought girls in juvie."

"We were lying about that, obviously!" 

"About juvie? Why would you lie to me?" Hazel asked, unintentionally looking like a mistreated puppy. 

"You assumed, I just didn't correct you," PJ rolled her eyes. "We just need to teach girls how to not get punched in the face, easy, and they drop their panties!" 

"Hey, hey guys! Did you hear?" Robin ran towards the trio suddenly. "Huntington shot up our books so the library is out of order again this year!" 

"No, actually... we're discussing creating a fight club to teach the girls self-defense," Hazel squinted, her blue eyes hurting from the sun hitting her face. "We can start with taekwondo, which I got covered."

"Wait, why are we even doing this? This sounds dumb," Robin started eating the sandwich her mother packed in a plastic grocery store bag. 

"We teach a bunch of girls how to defend themselves against the evil Huntington killers. They are grateful to us, we build a community, we bond, we share, we connect," PJ explained while gesturing with her hands and her hips. "We're punching each other, adrenaline is flowing, next thing we know Brittany is kissing me on the mouth!" 

"I take it back..." Robin shared a look with Hazel. "We definitely need a fight club. Hazel, bring Stella-Rebecca! She'll attract the cheerleaders."

"You know Stella-Rebecca?" Josie sat up, starting to consider the idea.

"We're family friends," Hazel shrugged.

It was true, but before even thinking of Stella-Rebecca, Hazel and Robin had bigger priorities.

"Naomi will be so impressed, she'll need to bring an extra pair of underwear to practice every week, cause she'll soak through the first!" Robin cheered quietly. She was usually shy and nervous, but they had a real shot this time, she couldn't throw it away.

"Shhh..." Hazel held a finger in front of her lips when she heard Naomi's voice coming from the principal's office. 

"I'm really sorry," she said. "But he tried to grope me."

"He's a boy, Naomi! He doesn't know any better!" Principal Meyers argued. "We won't make any of this public because it would hurt Jeff's image, but you can't just punch someone for their natural instincts.

"Naomi gave Jeff the black eye!" Hazel whispered. 

"Shit... it won't be as easy as we thought to impress her with our sexy fighting skills," Robin mumbled, but then she smiled. "But on the other hand, she has sexy fighting skills!" 

Hazel nodded, understanding right away and as soon as the principal's office door opened, Naomi was stopped by both girls. 

"Hey! Don't you think there's a lack of female solidarity at this school?" Robin asked, trying to sound casual. 

"Um... what?" Naomi narrowed her eyes. 

"You know, that Huntington player who fucked that girl's face up, we should do something about it," Hazel suggested, almost as if she just had that idea on the spot. "Hey, why don't you come over to our self-defense club after class?" 

"Self-defense club?" Naomi breathed. 

"Yeah, like a fight club! You can beat up people in the name of feminism!" Robin nodded excitedly. 

"Today at 3:15," Hazel added. 

"Okay, I guess it sounds nice. I'll be there," Naomi smiled as she walked away. "See you guys later!"

"May the best tomboy win?" Robin held out her hand.

"Oh, I will," Hazel teased, shaking her friend's hand.

Tag List: @mrprettywhenhecries @elliethesuperfruitlover

[jimmerzz0905]

mythical incorrect quotes because why the fuck not

(also there are some mentions of shit like alcohol and stuff under the cut so uhh)

Yawstrich: *tries to make the child laugh*

Anglow: *tries to play a game with the child to make them calm down*

G’joob: *gives detailed instructions to the parents*

Cherubble: *cries with the child*

Strombonin: *ignores the child*

Hyehehe: *is the reason why the child is crying*

—

Hyehehe: What's wrong with you?

Strombonin: Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

—

Strombonin: Happy Throwback Thursday. Here’s a throwback to when Yawstrich ate an entire fucking tube of lipstick.

Yawstrich, whining: But why would it be cherry-flavored if you can’t eat it?!

—

Cherubble: Am I a boy? Am I a girl? It doesn't matter. I'm going to burn your house down and then take a nap.

—

G’joob: And now for a gay update with Yawstrich and Strombonin.

Yawstrich: Getting gayer!

G’joob: Thank you, Yawstrich.

—

G’joob, holding in his laughter: Hey, how do you ask a glass of water what it’s doing?

Strombonin: A glass of water is an inanimate object. Therefore, it's incapable of having a thought process or understanding basic Monstrous.

G’joob:

G’joob: Water you doing?

—

Yawstrich: Oh, fiddlesticks! That really ruffles my feathers!

Strombonin: Please, just say fuck…

—

Cherubble: The last time I went to an urgent care clinic, I checked off 'excessive crying' on the symptom list, and then the nurse got really confused and said that was meant for babies.

—

Yawstrich: *texting* Hey can you pick me up I’m drunk.

Yawstrich: Oh you don't have to anymore. I'm home now.

Strombonin: Yes, I'm aware of that after dropping you off at home.

—

Hyehehe, with a headache: Advil me up, daddy.

Cherubble: I will short out the language centre of your brain if you say anything like that ever again.

—

Strombonin: I’m the sexiest bitch in this therapy waiting room.

—

Cherubble: Truth or dare?

Anglow: Truth.

Cherubble: How many hours have you slept this week?

Anglow:

Anglow: Dare.

Cherubble: Go to sleep.

Anglow: I don't like this game.

—

Cherubble: Today at 7 am, Hyehehe poured a Monster Energy drink in their coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.

Yawstrich: I watched Hyehehe brew their coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he’s ascended into the astral realm.

Strombonin: The survivability of the Monster race never fails to amaze me.

—

Hyehehe: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

—

Yawstrich: Oh, Strombonin! We have a visitor!

Strombonin: Don’t tell me it’s Hyehehe.

Yawstrich: It’s Hyehehe.

—

Anglow: What time is it?

Hyehehe: I don’t know, pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out.

Anglow: *hands Hyehehe the saxophone*

Hyehehe: *fucking BLASTS the saxophone*

G’joob: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING?!

Hyehehe: It’s 2 am

—

G’joob: That's it, I'm cutting off the internet!

Cherubble: No, please don't! I have a family to feed!

G’joob: …

G’joob: What?

Cherubble: I need to feed my Neopets!

—

Yawstrich: To everyone who has treated me poorly; I am sexier than you.

—

G’joob: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone.

Hyehehe: Mine just says "Hyehehe, no."

G’joob: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

—

Yawstrich: I didn't drink THAT much last night!

G’joob: You were flirting with Strombonin.

Yawstrich: So what? They're my boyfriend.

G’joob: You asked if they were single.

Yawstrich: …

G’joob: And then you cried when they said he wasn’t.

—

Strombonin: Sorry I'm late to the party. I've been… doing things.

Yawstrich, entering dizzy and covered in kisses: I got caught up doing things too.

Hyehehe: Wow, Strombonin was late too! What a coincidence!

—

Yawstrich: You know what I asked Yool for Yay this year?

Strombonin: If you say me, I swear I’ll—

Yawstrich: You? What? No, I asked him for that cool Lego Ninjago set we saw in Target!

—

Strombonin: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Yawstrich: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

G’joob: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Hyehehe: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

—

and that’s it lol

[bathroomtrapped]

What are the basic differences between saws original script and the outcome? Why did they not play those scenes?

theres a lot of superficial changes, like their ages and adams last name being denlon. honestly still not sure where faulkner-stanheight got confirmed as his last name!

a lot of the things that were cut had to do with adams character and im not entirely sure why it was cut. his reason for being there was because he was suicidal. jigsaw said something along the lines of "everyday youve wanted to die". he wanted to go to vet school and had an interaction with some cat in his apartment. theres a scene where his mother calls, saying his father isnt mad and that he should call them. he writes on a sticky note "call mom" then adds a "?"

he has an interaction with a shitty neighbor, begs god to become a better person

theres probably a few small details about him im forgetting bc its been a while since ive reread the screenplay but the common theme is that the saw movie cut out a MASSIVE amount of context for adams character.

im not entirely sure why, i think some scenes might have to do with cutting down on time (the cat scene would probably get cut for time before filming once they actually start working on the project) vs something that was cut to make the story tighter and change adams role in the story.

he tells lawrence that basically, be hid the photo because he "didnt know what he would do". aka he was scared that itd motivate lawrence to kill him more. not sure why this is cut because some people clearly did not pick up on that lol

basically everything we know about adam is only known to us because it has something to do with lawrence. we know it because lawrence needs to. its unfortunately bc i like adam enough to want to know more but it serves the story better. hes the audience. we know what we know bc adam knows it or learns it. hes the one behind the camera. hes a voyeur. hes literally nothing. he died forgotten by basically everyone and hes just BARELY there in the narrative bc hes just... nothing.

at the end of the day, he was just a pawn. hes not important to anyone but lawrence because this is his story. this is his test and were just the people chained up and forced to watch it play out. i imagine his backstory and personal information was cut for this reason.

during the editing process, there were scenes cut. i know the trap was supposed to be more elaborate originally. i think the cat scene was cut out to save time and the mom scene/motivation/history was cut to firmly center the narrative on lawrence

one change that fucking BAFFLES me is that at the end during the love scene, adam originally asks lawrence "am i going to be okay?". in the film its "are WE going to be okay?" umm im honestly not quite sure what series of thoughts propelled them to make such a gay film by accident, call the end the LOVE SCENE publicly, and then proceed to be shocked when people call them on it? leigh was shocked to see chainshipping fics back during the ff.net days (fun fact: the first ever chainshipping fanfic was published on ffnet called rebirth. its still up)

my best guess is that leigh wanted to push their "relationship" (whatever they think that is) further for more emotional pay off. most of the changes seem to pull their themes tighter. it ends up working in its favor. adam is lawrences test and his moral core or whatever, so they have a pretty instant connection. it was probably done to make lawrence suffer more! or maybe make it gayer and leigh is just doing a bit

theres also the lampshade song lol. some dumb shit leigh made up and cary refused to do, so they changed it to the weird little piggy thing instead. MINOR minor improvement

certain words were changed because cary just kinda... rolled with it. he adjusted the script a few times bc he rly liked lawrence for some reason. he still does. leigh just accepted it and let him do his thing

amanda was also amanda denlon in the screenplay im pretty sure

tapp was dunked on by john as he assassins creed-ed him in the throat for being a 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN! absolutely insane

the way adam finds out lawrence is a doctor is different, he talks about possibly being injected with rohypnol LOL

the heart was actually a clue leading to the word toilet written over his heart, under his shirt. the blood heart wasnt in the script LOL. i imagine cary didnt want to have toilet written on his bare chest for the film? a shame

theres more interactions with tapp, sing, lawrence, and brett (his lawyer) im assuming its what happened before they asked lawrence to sit and watch amandas testimony. they say his fingerprints were found at the scene, not a pen. i think either way its interesting because. wow! lawrences prints are in the system which means he has a record. the implications are kinda funny, it makes how baffled he is that tapp dare accuse him of such a thing! even more ironic. now we know that mark was involved in the police and planted the pen, so he probably just out his prints into the system as well

amanda works at lawrences hospital. not sure why this is cut? possibly bc shawnee was begged to join bc james had a big crush on her and she didnt even want to originally. she might notve wanted to do multiple scenes or something at the time before she decided on returning as amanda (for whatever reason, im not quite sure why she became so attached to the series after not joining as enthusiastically as cary did after watching the 2003 short)

amandas reason is also different. i think jigsaw literally hated depressed ppl so much in the script bc she was there for therapy or something LOL. not drugs. prob just cut to improve it

thats all i got. theres a lot of changes for logics sake related to the trap, wording changes for flow (im assuming), time constraints, and to streamline the themes and center it on lawrence

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Taming Arrogance - Chapter 18

*Warning Adult Content*

Steam wraps around my arms and legs as I step out of the shower.

I breathe in the heat and sigh, feeling more relaxed than I have in days.

I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist, rubbing my palm against the mirror's foggy surface until my face comes into view.

Pieces of light brown hair mat against my forehead and my gaze trails down my reflection until settling on my swollen lip.

I lean forward, inspecting the damage.

There doesn't seem to be an actual cut or tear anywhere but damn does it hurt.

I slide my tongue along my bottom lip and flinch when it crosses over a tender spot.

The feeling brings me right back to my kiss with Blake.

I hold back a groan remembering how it felt to have his hands on me, fingers digging into my hip and forcing me closer.

He was just as hard as I was when he rubbed up against me.

It was kind of weird having a dick so close to mine.

Granted, there were two pairs of jeans separating our 'mini-men' from touching but still.

It's the closest I've ever been to man parts.

Would he have let me go further if I initiated it?

He didn't seem to mind when I slipped my hand up his shirt and felt around.

Maybe I should have tried my luck and traveled south a bit too.

I run my tongue along my lip again, pressing harder at the tender part.

A searing pain shoots through my lower jaw, yet the pleasure that accompanies it has my groin aching for release.

Is it pathetic that I want more?

"Knock, knock, Callum..."

I whip my head to the side just in time to see Cade's bright face pop inside the bathroom.

He raises a brow and takes his time studying me from head to toe.

"Well, well, well. If I knew this was an option, I would have passed on dinner completely."

Cade pushes the door open and leans against its frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

The cold air nips at my flesh, hardening my nipples in seconds flat.

"Get the fuck outta here," I snap at him.

"You're letting in all the cold air."

Cade steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

Then his grin widens.

"Better?"

I tighten my hold on the towel and glare at him.

When Cade agreed to come over, over an hour ago, mind you, he told me I could just 'leave the door open for him.'

Of course he chooses now to finally make his grand entrance.

"You have some impeccable timing," I mutter under my breath, searching around for my sweatpants.

"Mmm, I'd have to disagree," Cade counters and gives me a pointed look.

"If I had impeccable timing, I would have gotten here about ten minutes earlier."

Without looking at myself in the mirror, I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks and staining them red.

Cade doesn't seem the least bit stressed about this situation.

I glance at his attire, noting that he's changed out of his work clothes and into a comfortable pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt.

The combination makes him look younger and gayer.

"You look like a fag," I say with a huff.

"And where the fuck  are my sweatpants?"

"I'll take that as a compliment because I am fag and proud of it, too."

If I had said that to Blake, he'd be lecturing me up and down on the importance of respecting all sexualities and blah, blah, blah, a bunch of shit I don't want to hear.

Cade just laughs it off.

I'm not sure which one irritates me more.

Clearly distressed, I shoulder past Cade and stomp out of the bathroom.

He follows behind me and chuckles.

"You know, Callum, you have a keen ability of pulling off that whole 'pissed off and brooding' attitude while managing to make it look sexy."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. Not many men can do that."

My eyes light up when I see my sweatpants hanging off the bed.

I scoop them up and glance at Cade, a silent plead in my eyes for him to look away.

He must sense how uncomfortable I am because he turns his back to me, fumbling with the remote I left on the nightstand.

"So how'd it go with Mr. Boss Man?"

I throw on my sweatpants and slip on a t-shirt, not bothering to check if they match.

"The man has zero remorse when it comes to personal boundaries and he's moody as fuck," I answer.

Okay, okay, I may have helped just a smidge in the development of his mood swings but I'll just consider that falling under the '5% of other duties as assigned' in my job description.

I'm just trying to keep the man on his A game.

Cade sits on the bed and leans back, holding up his weight with his elbows.

The position he's in shows off his slender build.

His shirt rides up just a few inches on his stomach and a trail of light hair catches my attention.

It starts just at the bottom of his navel and becomes hidden beneath the hem of his boxers.

'It's kind of hot. Does Blake have that too?'

"That explains the fat lip, then," Cade muses.

"Oh yeah, that."

My tongue swipes across the tender flesh for a third time.

An ache blooms deep in my stomach wishing it was someone else's tongue instead of my own.

The silence stretches between Cade and myself and I have the weirdest desire to know what he's thinking.

This is the first time I've ever been physical with a dude, well two dudes.

Do men get jealous like chicks do?

I clear my throat and climb into bed, leaving ample space between the two of us.

Cade turns on the TV and switches to the basketball game.

I'm not sure if he actually likes sports or not but I appreciate the distraction all the same.

A few minutes pass and Cade continues to watch the screen and finally the silence becomes too much for me.

"Why'd you come over?" I ask.

"Because you texted and asked me to."

I scowl.

"Yeah , I know that, smart ass. I mean, why'd you give me your number in the first place?"

Cade turns his head to the side.

His expression is soft, content even.

He smiles and I relax.

I've only been around this guy for a total of a few hours and already his smile is becoming pretty damn contagious.

"I was hoping to get a glimpse of you in the shower."

I roll my eyes and reach forward to punch him in the arm.

"You're an idiot."

Cade laughs and scoots up the bed until we're next to each other.

Unlike me, he doesn't attempt to leave room between us.

His arm brushes against mine and he leaves it there.

"You're just a really nice guy, Callum," Cade tries again.

Even though he's still smiling, his expression becomes serious.

The light of the TV illuminates his face and my brain automatically starts comparing his features to Blake's.

Cade is a good-looking dude. a real panty-dropper, er boxer-dropper.

His face is masculine but his features carry with them a hint of femininity.

It's a hot combination and I wonder if this is why I find him so attractive.

Nothing about Blake is feminine.

Well, except maybe his mood swings, no offense, ladies.

So why the hell do I find him so irresistible?

The image of Blake's face finds its way front and center to my brain.

He stares back at me, his dark eyes bold and intense.

His chiseled cheekbones frame a narrow but masculine jaw and he blinks a few times in my imagination.

When I don't respond, Cade gets my attention again by rubbing his index finger along the backs of my knuckles.

"And even though you are ten shades of ass-hole to the wind, you're kind of charming, too," he adds with a wink.

His comment makes me laugh and just like that, the tension between us evaporates.

We find our way into easy conversation, talking about everything from work, to food, to sports.

Turns out Cade actually does likes basketball.

Close to 1:00 AM, the two of us order a pizza.

Cade bitches and moans about my topping selection, so I shut him up by agreeing to just cheese.

Despite the odd sensation of longing tumbling through my senses, the night ends up being pretty fun.

It isn't until the infomercials start dancing across the TV screen that I realize how late it's getting.

Cade mindlessly chews on a piece of crust, tapping a few buttons on his phone to show me a picture of some sea creature he was just talking about.

"It's getting pretty late," I comment.

Cade squints at the time showing on his phone and tosses his crust back into the pizza box.

"Want me to head out?"

"Probably should."

"Alright, cool. Just let me find this picture for you."

Only I never get to see the picture.

Cade slips his hand into mine, angling his body close enough to be cuddling.

His warmth and his touch feel so good that my eyes begin to close of their own accord.

We don't have sex.

We don't even kiss.

As relieved as I thought I would be about all this, however, we end up doing something far worse.

We fall asleep.

[kickbutts-singsongs]

Ooooooh heck yeah let’s do this

1. I think my fav thing that happened was the leaks night when chapter 403 came out and everyone (and me) was going absolutely apeshit over a certain someone’s return and the Eye Contact™️ that was shared so yeah it was just such a thrilling experience and I really felt united with the fandom and overjoyed about Katsuki coming back

2. I started shipping bkdk last year, and funnily enough it all started during the second half of the togachako fight (“You really think I’m cute?” “The cutest girl in the whole world”). I was like that’s gay and then I got tumblr and read togachako metas and went that’s even gayer which then led me to bakudeku metas and that’s when I went oh wait these guys actually make sense oh shit it’s not toxic anymore holy fuck I GET IT NOW

(but if I’m being honest with myself, I subconsciously shipped these guys since the beginning but I was too blind (heteronormative) to see)

(like I made an oc pair that was bkdk coded and went but I don’t ship them irl ahhahaha what I def don’t save bkdk pins on pinterest or read bkdk fics or anything nope izu///ocha all the way guys)

3. The anti bkdk flag

4. Switches (but idk I don’t think about sex all that much lol)

5. Demi Katsuki and Bi Izuku just feel right to me

6. It’s a tie between the apology scene and the epilogue hospital scene

7. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen anything before season seven (I’m currently rewatching) but I think as of late Bones has really been capitalizing on the bkdk material so I’ve been eating good lollllll

8. My list of priorities is as follows:

handhold

dvk 3 (or d&k!!!!)

talk about feelings, romantic or otherwise (may be included in previous event)

crepes/amusement park date

relationship confirmed

9. Honestly? I don’t actually mind if they’re not shown as romantic. As long as it’s established that Katsuki is Izuku’s most important person and vice versa, I’ll be happy (queerplatonic bkdk is my ideal)

10. Nah I can’t imagine these boys with anyone else now they’re like my fav ship of all time!!!

(That being said: if Katsuki didn’t exist, rodydeku would be very cute lol)

11. Uhhhhhhh oh geez I think my top ten gotta be:

“Nobody else (Can take me higher)” by Jeka

“Dear Nikki-san” by blazingeyes

“promises kept” by gabstar

“save your tears” by starless_skies

“The Time Between Our Lives” by Fitzrovia

“in the dark, with you close, I can see” by comradekiwi

“109 Days” by amarisllis

“It’s a Leap of Faith” by SpiritedKaway

“last days of war” by antisora

“A Dangerous Game” by tsukithewolf

12. I mean, the volume 29 cover is pretty hard to beat 💀💀💀 but I think my fav in general is the class 1-A group photo (the one with the blue sky in the background and they’re all standing in front of the school). It’s my home screen lmao

13. I’ve never shipped any couple more than I’ve shipped bkdk

14. I just hope they become hero partners and are confirmed as each others most important person. That’s all I really need.

15. Oh goodness I’m not gonna cry I won’t!!! 😭

These boys mean so much to me, and so does this series. I honestly still can’t believe it’s about to end.

I went from hating Katsuki to absolutely adoring him, and Izuku was the first protagonist I ever felt like I completely related to. He brought me such comfort during the aftermath of the pandemic. Like, I too am sensitive and a crybaby and a nerd, and I verbally process things (mumble), and I had low self-esteem, and I had people in my life call me weak and put me down (and I mayyyy have projected those people onto Katsuki a bit…). And Izuku gave me hope that one day I could be like him, and that I’d rise up against the situations that seemed impossible and beat them anyways, and that the people in my life would eventually realize that they’re wrong about me (and one of them has!🥹).

And seeing these two boys grow and develop (especially after rereading the manga) is just something else. It’s crazy how I went from trying to ignore Katsuki and his hot-headed self to being so invested in his emotions and feelings and his devotion to Izuku like 😭😭😭😭

No matter how this series ends, it’s definitely going to hold a special place in my heart for a long time.

I’m gonna miss these guys so much

Q/A since the series is nearly over (answer any you like via reblog/replies/asks)

What is the best thing you have seen the fandom do since you have become a part of it?

How long have you been a bkdk/dkbk lover and what was the canon moment that made you start shipping them?

3) What is the worst thing or the most pathetic thing you have seen the antis do to try to stop our ship from sailing?

4) Do you prefer top!Bakugou/bottom!Midoriya, top!Midoriya/bottom!Kacchan, or them as switches?

5) What is your sexuality and/or gender headcanon for Bakugou and Midoriya?

6) What is your favorite bkdk/dkbk moment of all time?

7) Which scenes do you think the anime improved on or made worse?

8) How do you wish the series ends and hope bkdk/dkbk's character arc is resolved?

9) How do you headcanon bkdk/dkbk confessing their love and finally becoming romantic partners?

10) If bkdk/dkbk is your otp, do you have a secondary ship? If yes, tell me what it is and why.

11) What are your favorite bkdk/dkbk fanfics? (please send link if you can)

12) Which official art did you like the most and why?

13) Is bkdk/dkbk your favorite ships of all time or do you have another ship you believe to be even better?

14) Do you have any headcanons about future!Midoriya and future!Bakugou?

15) How do you feel about the series as a whole and the long journey Midoriya and Bakugou have gone on?

[papermonkeyism]

Alright, I have now officially seen Critical Role campaign 2, had some time to watch the campaign wrap up and just generally put thoughts in a row.

Some of said thoughts, in no particular order:

I appreciate how, like, 90% of the muscle mass of the group is firmly on the lady-side of the party. Personally quite happy about that.

I don't think I ever really got over the character death, but I do appreciate the narrative weight of it and I have a huge soft spot for the character we got out of it so. Man, the story would have been so different, huh?

I hadn't thought one could steal a ship by accident but

Lots of eyeballs in this campaign.

The entire Happy Fun Ball thing.

Jester having the Sending spell was amazing.

Speaking of Jester, I lost my shit with the blueberry cupcake. You know the one.

Personally very pleased by getting to know characters of races that usually get portrayed as evil by default as people, as this has been one of my pet peeves in fantasy genre for decades.

Love the character designs of some of the NPCs. Special shoutout to Orly and the moorbounder salesman.

I really, really enjoyed watching Caduceus interact with his family. That was all very authentic sibling relationship shenanigans, and I love it so much.

Also the dinner scene.

Really, I have only experienced three of Taliesin's characters so far (Mollymauk, Caduceus and Ashton), but I got to say I really appreciate how he does characters. Very aesthetic.

(the reunion two parter is going to be interesting)

The Travelercon. Just... the Travelercon

I still think Yasha "negative 2 charisma modifier" Nydoorin attempting to flirt was the funniest thing ever, in a sweet way.

This was overall gayer than I expected. I'm used to keeping my expectations low to non existent, so I was quite happy to be surprised. Cozy.

Speaking of, I now understand why I keep seeing so much fan art of the sad trash wizard with a drow.

The M9 took one look at Essek and decided to adopt him

I think Caleb's character arc is the one that left me the most impressed, but they all got their chances to shine. I am weirdly proud of all of these make believe people.

Honestly, looking back, they really did get far during the course of the game. What started as a mistrusting bunch of colourful assholes grew into a tight knit and surprisingly functional found family. Specially that last battle of the series, it was efficient and had so many character points in it.

I think my favourite parts were all the heart to heart conversations between the characters sprinkled throughout the series.

Fun little extra, my local library has a copy of the Explorer's Guide to Wildemount, the DnD sourcebook for the setting/continent this campaign takes place in, and I've borrowed it couple times during my watch through. It's been special bit of extra fun to whip out the giant map that comes with the book and follow the party's travels on it while watching the game sessions.

(I may or may not have bought myself the Beauregard sleeveless hoodie thing with my last month's fun money. It is soft and comfy and it has pockets.)

And so many other thoughts, but that was literally 141 episodes with the combined runtime of over five and half hundred hours. Took me about a year or so, though 3/4 of the campaign was marathoned within the last three-ish months because of not having social life.

I think I want to give a bit of a rewatch to the first episode or few, now that I've seen the whole story. Refresh how it all started.

[sigurdjarlson]

Is Greg gay?

Canonically? I honestly wish I could answer this with a resounding yes but admittedly I’m not entirely sure.

I hope he is

This got long oops sorry 😅

There’s definitely a lot of things there that could point to it but since nothing concrete has ever been shown/talked about I can’t say for certain:

I think it would make him a far less interesting character if he’s straight

Personally I read him as deeply closeted. Partially because of his desire to distance himself completely from anything that makes him similar to his father. He doesn’t have an issue with gay people but he has an issue with him being gay if that makes sense

That’s just speculation though so back to more canon material

We know Greg is fairly receptive or at the very least tolerant of Tom’s insane behavior towards him which even to Greg has to be questionable at times. (“I won’t let go of what is mine” ?)

The fact he wants to be around Tom after he says shit like “I’d castrate and marry you in an heartbeat” is kind of wild honestly? Requited Tomgreg my beloved

He also has been actively seeking Tom’s company out more and more..which could be out of loneliness but he seems to genuinely enjoy Tom’s presence when he’s not being a dick. And it just seems to be getting progressively gayer

One scene that really stands out tho when thinking about Gay Ass Greg tho is the scene where it really does look like Greg spent the night with Andrew Dodds. He drops Greg off to talk to Tom while jogging and Greg throws “great night!” Over his shoulder.

This isn’t anything concrete. We don’t know what they did. They could have smoked weed and did Ketamine and passed out for all we know but..why show us it? Succession writers are very detail oriented. They don’t usually do things without reason.

It’s also interestingly enough shown right before he talks to Tom who he obviously has this homoerotic relationship with:

But then we come to the whole Comfrey thing.

Ironically the whole dating ladder arc made me more convinced Greg is gay? His interest does not seem genuine. That’s proven quickly when he at the first sign of reciprocation he loses interest in her only to gain it back when Shiv suggests he can get something out of this with Comfrey and/or the Contessa.

It just reads as very fake and forced and I think it’s supposed to? Greg isn’t being genuine with either of them but he wasn’t with Comfrey even before he started his dating ladder crusade.

His original attempts at flirting with Comfrey come across across very much as “this is what I’m supposed to do” and then it’s purely to climb the dating ladder and nothing more

Of course there is the possibility he’s bisexual but his interactions with women ironically make me more convinced he’s gay. Especially when you compare those instances with how he interacts with Tom.

Not to mention the narrative keeps putting him in the position of “other woman” with Tom in a way like they’re framing it that way on purpose I think.

The scene where him and Tom both look at their phones and meet up at a diner? Even Tom’s invitation the first time they hung out “ Shiv is out of town so let me take you out”

And like I said there are a lot of reasons he’s want to stay closeted. His own confusing relationship with homosexuality because of his father and the brat he works for ATN which pushes extremely bigoted material.

(Adds a whole other layer of depth to him not wanting to work there so badly honestly. He clearly did not want to blackmail Tom but he wanted out badly until Tom offered him a significant promotion and he seemingly decides alright I can deal)

His uncle is also blatantly homophobic and has been to his face even though it wasn’t aimed at Greg: (“I don’t want someone to find him at the bottom of some French Fag’s pool” “No..no none of us want that”)

And I’m sure he’s had his share of shit thrown his way for being the guy with the gay dad who ran out on him. Whether it be jokes in poor taste from his cousins maybe or Logan making backhanded comments to Ewan.

Also the environment he’s in in general is extremely homophobic.. Gay sex is constantly being framed as something degrading and wrong. “I heard you bent for him and he fucked you.” I know Greg didn’t hear that line but it’s a good example of the type of talk I’m referring to that’s constantly being thrown around.

At the same time he’s in this homoerotic situation with Tom. Because Tom’s attempts to use this kind of humor to fit in usually falls flat. It comes out genuine, forced or suggestive. (Because he’s closeted too)

And of course we have the infamous

Which convinced me that if he’s not gay then he is at least bisexual. I know Nbraun improvised this line but the fact they kept it in says volumes about what they’re letting be implied here.

And of course we have the Nero and Sporus thing which while coming from Tom..the narrative is pointing at the parallel. Loudly.

The way their handshake is part of ancient Roman marriage

And then we have the costume designers admitting they match Greg and Tom on purpose because “he’s Tom’s real partner on the show”

And I just…we have scenes like this where I have to wonder why is it framed like that

[deancasheadcanons]

Slightly Gayer

[ao3]

7.3k words post-15x18 domestic Dean/Cas (loosely) inspired by this artwork by skepticalfrog

Dean is sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and halfheartedly scrolling through the news. He can’t focus because his eyes keep drifting over to the other side of the kitchen, where Cas is cooking breakfast and talking on the phone with Claire.

Cas looks different, is the thing. He’s wearing a pair of bright green boxer briefs and one of Dean’s old gray t-shirts, neither of which fit him right. Since becoming human, Cas exercises constantly, stacking his arms and legs with thickly corded muscle.

But he eats, too, and loves eating as much as Dean does, so his stomach juts out big and round from his muscular chest, several inches of tan underbelly visible out of the bottom of Dean’s shirt. The fabric is caught in the crease between his chest and belly, taut around the outline of his nipple rings. The sleeves are also too tight around his biceps, revealing the Enochian tattoos that extend from shoulder to elbow of each arm.

Dean knows what Cas looks like, of course he knows. He knows every inch of his perfect body. But the way Cas moves, Dean is still getting used to. Still studying.

Cas has the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, his hands occupied with making pancakes and eggs. He has his weight shifted to one hip, his butt sticking out even more than it already does, and he keeps waving the spatula around animatedly as he talks. He takes a drink of coffee, then scratches his belly, then gestures with his hand, flipping his wrist rather...limply.

He turns around to the kitchen island to plate the pancakes and catches Dean staring at him. He smiles and winks in his direction while continuing his conversation with Claire.

Dean tries to look back down at his phone. He makes it about five seconds before his eyes find their way over to Cas again. He takes a long drink of coffee and sets his mug down as he stands up. He strides over to Cas and comes at him from behind, wrapping his arms around his middle and burying his face in his soft neck. He kisses the tattoo that’s on the juncture of Cas’ collarbone and neck—Dean’s name in Enochian.

“I’ve gotta go, Claire,” Cas says, his voice as deep and gravelly as ever. “Tell Kaia I said hello. Yes. OK, bye.”

Dean squeezes Cas’ belly and presses long, slow kisses to his neck.

Cas turns the stove off and moves the eggs over to a different burner. His hands, now free, fold over top of Dean’s. He laces their fingers together.

“Claire said they’re thinking of coming by to visit in a few days,” Cas says, leaning his weight back against Dean.

“Mm. Good.” Dean continues his kisses.

Cas huffs a laugh and rubs his hand up and down Dean’s forearm. “Feeling affectionate this morning?”

“Always. C’mere.” He tugs at Cas to get him to turn around in his arms, then he fits his hands to his hips and presses his flat torso against Cas’ gut before leaning over and kissing him on the lips.

Cas puts a hand to the side of Dean’s face and the other on the counter behind him, supporting his weight against it. He moans into the kiss, pushing his tongue hungrily into Dean’s mouth and rolling his hips in an intoxicating rhythm.

They stop after a few minutes. Cas keeps his hand on Dean’s face, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth across his cheek as he smiles softly up at him.

“What?” Dean asks self-consciously. He circles his own thumbs into Cas’ love handles.

“Nothing,” Cas replies, his smile widening. “You’re just very beautiful.”

Dean ducks back in for another quick kiss. Then, “You move differently than you used to.”

Cas tilts his head to the side, furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re, uh, I don’t know. Your mannerisms...you’re more feminine. Gayer.”

Cas laughs and drops his head forward. His hand falls away from Dean’s face, and he flips it out palm up. “Well, Dean, I am gay.”

Now Dean is laughing. He pulls Cas closer to him and once again pushes his face against his neck. “You were just so stiff before.” He pulls back again and looks Cas in the eye. “I don’t like thinking that you were, I don’t know, holding yourself back. Repressed.”

Cas barks out a laugh. “Yes, please, tell me more about how I was repressed.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” He squeezes a soft hip. “I’m starving, let’s eat.”

They sit perpendicular to each other at the kitchen table. Cas rubs one socked foot up and down Dean’s calf while they eat.

“Do I move different?” Dean asks with a mouthful of eggs.

Cas frowns at him, mug of coffee in his hand. “Is that a trick question?”

“Oh god, I do, don’t I?”

“Well, first of all, Dean, your voice is an octave higher than it used to be.”

Dean blushes and shoves more food in his mouth, avoiding eye contact.

Cas leans his elbows on the table, closer to Dean. “And you carry yourself differently. You’ve always been confident in your body, but you don’t posture anymore. You carry yourself in a more relaxed way—like when we’re walking, and you keep one hand in your pocket and the other holding mine. You don’t puff your chest out so much, and it makes you look more natural.”

“Gayer?”

Cas laughs again. “Yes, Dean, I think when you, uh, rub my lower back and kiss my temple while we wait in line at the grocery store or something, you definitely look gayer than you did before.”

Dean reaches over and tangles their hands together, swinging them back and forth playfully on top of the table. “Can’t help it,” he says gently. “If you’re near me, I gotta touch.”

They smile shyly at each other. Cas eventually moves Dean’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. “I’m not too gay for you, am I? My mannerisms don’t bother you?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You’re fishing for a compliment.”

“So give me one.”

He scoots his chair closer to Cas’ and moves his hand under the table, spreading his fingers over one of Cas’ thick thighs and squeezing the soft muscle. “I’m fucking thrilled that you’re comfortable in your own skin, sweetheart. I love the new ways you move, and I love how you’ve made your body your own. I get distracted staring at you so much that I can’t even read one crap news article without looking at you.”

Cas takes a deep breath. A tear slips down his cheek, and he wipes it away delicately. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to hearing you say stuff like that to me. Not even in my most self-indulgent fantasies did I imagine...”

Dean laughs and tugs on Cas’ shirtsleeve, coaxing him over to him, patting his legs so Cas straddles his lap. Once they’re settled, Dean rubs soothing circles into Cas’ back fat and looks up at him reverently.

“I’ll always think you deserve better than me, but, uh,” Dean starts. “I guess if you want me instead of somebody better, then I gotta be the best version of myself. I’m sorry I wasn’t this me sooner.”

Cas presses their foreheads together. “You mean this gayer version?”

Dean laughs into a kiss. “Only took you confessing your love and dying for me to get my head out of my ass.”

Cas puts a finger to the tip of Dean’s nose. “No, actually, it took more than that. Seven months after I came back, Dean. It took you seven months.”

Dean winces. “Worth the wait?”

Cas sighs and kisses Dean’s cheek before climbing laboriously off his lap, grunting as his gut shifts. He pulls at the hem of his boxer briefs to get them down over his huge thighs; Dean pinches his butt as he walks away.

In the time it takes Cas to refill their coffee mugs, Dean’s phone rings.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean answers.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Sam asks.

As Cas comes back and hands Dean a mug, sliding his arm gently across his shoulders before making his way to his seat, Dean says, “Having breakfast with the love of my life. What do you need?”

“Eileen and I are going on a hunt, gonna take a few days. Can we drop Jack by later today?”

“What? The kid can’t stay by himself in the bunker?”

Cas flattens his lips and raises his eyebrows, silently chastising Dean. Dean throws his hand up and shrugs.

“He’s 4, Dean,” Sam says.

“He’s as powerful as God, Sam.”

Jack’s voice comes through the phone, sounding far away. “I don’t like staying here by myself. It’s lonely.”

“Of course you can stay here, kid,” Dean says loudly enough for Jack to hear. To Sam, he says, “But make sure you stop by the store on your way and pick up some food for him, because Cas and I are on a diet.”

“Seriously?” Sam asks.

“No,” Dean scoffs. “C’mon, dude. I’m sure the kid’ll be thrilled to get some real food instead of whatever rabbit food crap you and Eileen feed him.”

Cas snorts a laugh and tucks back into his stack of pancakes, pouring more syrup over them before taking a bite. Dean watches him, obsessed with the dainty way he holds his fork.

“You know, it’s gonna catch up to you one day,” Sam says. “You’ll wake up and suddenly realize you look like Cas.”

“Mm,” Dean hums, eyes still glued to Cas. “You mean I’ll be hot as shit?”

Cas winks at him.

“Yeah, I walked right into that one,” Sam mutters. “See you this afternoon.”

“Bye, Sam.” He hangs up.

“I don’t know why you goad him into judging our eating habits,” Cas says. “He asks about my weight every time I lift with him.”

“What? I’ll kill him.”

“No, it’s—”

“Where’s my gun? I’m gonna kill him.”

“Dean,” Cas says, exasperated. “He only asks because he doesn’t see me every day. You’d notice I was getting bigger, too, if you only saw me every week or so.”

Dean pouts at him, offended. “I touch you and stare at you constantly every day, of course I fucking notice. You’re big, Cas. And you take good care of yourself. Sam can mind his own fucking business.”

“I don’t need you to defend my honor to your brother, you insane man.” Cas stands and picks up their plates to take them to the sink. “And you need to limit the number of ‘fucks’ you say when Jack gets here.”

“Jesus, when did you become such a nagging wife?”

Cas turns away from the sink, sets a hand on the shelf of his belly, and says in a deadpan, “When I became pregnant with our third child.”

It’s a joke he stole from Dean, but Dean still lets out an embarrassing laugh like it’s the first time he’s heard it. He then joins Cas in the kitchen, hugging him from behind again and sneaking a hand up under his shirt so he can cup one of his pecs, teasing his thumb over his piercing. He kisses the shell of his ear as he mumbles, “I’ll clean up in here. I know you wanna go work out.”

Cas shuffles around in his arms and kisses him languidly. Even though they’ve been together for months and have shared at least a thousand kisses, a thrilling warmth washes over Dean’s body every time Cas initiates.

“What?” Cas asks gently when they break apart.

Dean kisses him again, squeezes his sides. “I just love you so much.”

Cas fights his smile and fails. He runs a hand up through Dean’s hair, which Dean is growing out, because Cas likes to touch it. “I love you so much, too.”

“C’mere.” Dean pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around his back and holding him tight, nuzzling his face in his neck while Cas fists his hands in the back of Dean’s t-shirt. “Loved you for so long. Should’ve told you sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” Cas squeezes him. “I should’ve, too.”

Dean clears his throat as they break apart. “We’ve turned into the biggest fucking saps. Go, go lift your silly weights.” He shoos Cas out of the kitchen and smacks his butt as he goes. “And hey! Don’t forget to walk your sweaty body through here on your way to the shower.”

Over his shoulder, Cas says, “Of course. I would never deprive you of that, Dean.”

When Dean finishes cleaning the kitchen, he heads to the living room where they’ve set up a workspace to help hunters out. Sure, it would be easier to do the job from the bunker, but Dean and Cas wanted their own space, a homier environment for hunters to stop by and rest. They have a room for Jack, a room for Claire and Kaia, and two extra bedrooms for anybody else who shows up—although, one of the rooms is half-full of Cas’ exercise equipment.

Dean has his eye on a rundown bar down the road, too, but not enough time has passed since they committed crimes to get a loan for their house, so he has to wait before they can buy it.

While Dean is doing research for a case that Garth is working on, Jody calls.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Dean answers, putting her on speaker.

“I’m three hours from your place,” she says, sounding tired. “Can you guys take the kid again for just, like, one week? Please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, Jody,” Dean replies, his posture straightening with excitement. “But you already knew that, because you’re already driving her over here.”

Jody laughs. “Yeah. Thanks, Dean. See you soon.”

Dean shoots a text to Sam: Raven’s gonna be here, too. ETA?

Sam texts back right away: Whenever we feel like it o’clock.

Bitch, Dean types.

Whore, Sam replies.

When Dean and Cas got together, they didn’t get the chance to tell Sam. They were on a hunt, and Sam was at the motel doing research while Dean and Cas ate dinner at a bar nearby. Cas was talking about the case and reached over and stole a fry off of Dean’s plate, and something about the gesture broke something inside of Dean. He blurted out, “I love you, too,” like a fucking idiot, causing Cas to nearly choke on the fry.

The truth was that Dean was in shock when Cas came back from the Empty, and he could not believe that this ancient unknowable being actually loved him. But then Cas was human, and ordinary, and he grew more comfortable around Dean as his body filled out. Easy warmth and affection radiated from him, like loving Dean was as natural to him as breathing.

And Dean knew that his own feelings couldn’t be buried anymore. They were clawing their way to the surface with each day that passed, until finally they burst free with an I love you, too over a stolen goddamn French fry.

They finished their meal quickly and quietly, then they walked out to the Impala together and Dean couldn’t wait a second longer than the nearly 13 years he’d already waited, so he pushed Cas up against the driver’s side door and kissed him.

“Oh,” Cas breathed between their mouths.

“What?” Dean mumbled.

“I didn’t—realize—when—”

Dean moved to kissing Cas’ softening jaw and neck so that his mouth was free to talk.

“I wasn’t sure you meant you loved me like this,” Cas explained.

Dean abruptly pulled away. “Oh. Uh, did you not—we don’t have to if you don’t want—”

Cas cut him off with a bruising kiss. “No, no, I definitely want.”

“Thank god.”

It had taken all of their willpower to get in the car and drive back to the motel, and Dean had barely put her in park before dragging Cas to the backseat and messily stripping clothes off. There wasn’t nearly enough space, so they ended up rutting against each other while making out like horny teenagers, and that’s when Sam knocked on the window.

Dean cracked it the smallest amount, his body still tangled with Cas. “We’re a little busy here, Sammy.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m gonna get another room so you guys don’t have to do...this...out here.”

“Sammy, you’re the best brother in the world,” Dean said stupidly as he and Cas struggled out of the backseat, holding their clothes half-on, shirts and overshirts and jackets in hand and jeans unbuttoned. Dean dragged Cas by the hand up to their room.

And so Sam (homophobically, in Dean’s opinion) started calling Dean “whore” instead of “jerk.”

Dean is typing on his laptop when Cas clears his throat from the hall. Dean looks up immediately, raking his eyes up and down Cas’ glistening, swollen body as he walks shirtless toward their bedroom.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, come back here,” Dean says, scrambling to get up, tripping over his own feet, then finally making it to Cas so he can squeeze his biceps and press kisses to his sweaty shoulder.

Dean moves his mouth down Cas’ collarbone and chest, hunching his body so he can get a better angle as he works his tongue around a nipple ring.

Cas cards a hand through Dean's hair. “Do you want to shower with me?” he asks patiently.

Dean reluctantly lets go of his nipple and straightens up. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

Their shower is just big enough for both of them, but it’s too difficult to do much more than wash each other’s bodies. They talk loudly to each other over the spray, which is why neither of them hear the front door open and Sam and Eileen announce their arrival.

Dean walks out to the kitchen wearing a towel around his waist and one around his hair. Sam and Eileen are making sandwiches while Jack sits on a barstool at the island reading a book.

“Oh, hey, guys,” Dean says. He grabs a La Croix out of the fridge and takes a long drink. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Cas comes in next, wearing just boxer briefs, his wet hair dripping water onto his body. He greets everyone then puts a hand on the small of Dean’s back and kisses his cheek. He takes the La Croix right out of his hand and drinks it before giving it back.

“Cas, are your nipples pierced?” Eileen asks, shocked.

“Oh, yeah,” Cas says flippantly. He pats the tattoo of Dean’s name on his shoulder. “Dean talked me into it when I got this.”

Dean mutters, “Not like you needed much convincing.”

“So are you guys gonna bother putting clothes on, or…?” Sam asks bitchily.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for existing in my own house,” Dean teases. He settles against Cas’ side; Cas wraps his arm around his hip. “Maybe if somebody had told us when they would be here, we could’ve been ready.”

“Yeah, well, we were anxious to get here,” Sam says, looking pointedly at Eileen. “We have some news.”

“Uh-oh, this sounds like something I should be wearing clothes for,” Dean says.

“I’m pregnant,” Eileen says and signs. She makes a face like she’s sorry about it.

Cas sucks in a sharp breath. Dean’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, uh.” Sam sighs and throws a hand up. “We’re not totally sure how we feel about it, you know, never really planned on…”

“We don’t want to stop hunting,” Eileen finishes for him. “But if there’s a good reason to stop, this is it.”

“We can help,” Dean says quickly. He nervously sets his water down on the counter so he can sign and talk. “You know we’re always willing to take care of a kid. Especially a baby.” He looks over at Jack. “No offense, Jack.”

“I told them I would help, too,” Jack says cheerfully. “I would love a little brother or sister. And I can heal most injuries other than death, so if they keep hunting while Eileen is pregnant, it’ll be OK.”

“We’ll be here every step of the way,” Cas adds. “Whatever you need.”

“Yeah,” Sam says solemnly. “We know it’ll be OK, we’re just...I don’t know, I’m just not naturally maternal like you, Dean.”

“Come here, Sammy,” Dean says, walking away from Cas and putting his hand up on Sam’s shoulder to bring him down for a hug. “You’re already a great dad. You’re not gonna fuck the kid up, I promise.”

Sam laughs and squeezes Dean once before letting go. He frowns down at Dean’s bare torso and says, “OK, go get some clothes on, please.” Under his breath, he mutters, “I don’t understand how you and Cas even fit in a shower together.”

“Hey.” Dean points a menacing finger at him. “If you don’t lay off my boyfriend, he’s gonna use his massively buff arms to kick your ass.”

“No, I’m not,” Cas says in a monotone, flipping his wrist to blow Dean off. He kisses Eileen on the cheek as he leaves the kitchen.

“What? I’m not—I don’t care what Cas looks like,” Sam says. He opens the fridge and gestures dramatically to it. “I just think it would be good every now and then if you guys ate, like, one vegetable.” He looks Dean up and down. “Also the fact that Cas works out and you don’t, you look like a skinny little beanpole next to him. He makes you look ridiculous.”

Dean crosses his arms and pouts. “He likes how I look. Says it makes him feel big and strong when he picks me up.”

Sam and Eileen both laugh. Eileen asks, “He picks you up? What, like during sex?”

Dean blushes. He halfheartedly says and signs, “No, I mean, like, when I fall asleep on the couch and he carries me to our bed.”

Sam and Eileen laugh harder.

“I think it’s sweet,” Jack interjects. “I would never laugh at your relationship with Cas, Dean. You two love each other very much.”

Eileen rolls her eyes. “Yeah, perfect little angel over here has never said a mean word about anybody in his life. We get it, Jack, you’re better than us.”

Jack straightens his back and smiles, proud of himself. Dean passes by him on his way out of the kitchen and squeezes his shoulder in thanks.

“A baby, huh?” Dean asks excitedly as he rummages through his and Cas’ closet for some clothes. “We should plan on staying in the bunker with them for the first few months, you know, help them out and stuff.”

Cas scoffs from the master bath. “You just want to hold a newborn.”

“Yeah, so what?” Dean joins him in the bathroom, taking his towels off his head and waist and hanging them back up on the racks. He takes a piss while Cas stands at the sink messing with his hair.

Cas is wearing a pair of black joggers and a faded pink tank top, a denim overshirt sitting on the counter. A long chain rests against his chest between his big pecs, three rings hanging from them. Two of the rings are Dean’s old ones, and the third is a new one Dean picked out for him when they moved into their house together.

Dean checks his hip against Cas’, nudging him out of the way so he can wash his hands at the sink.

“Does it bother you that we can’t just accidentally have children?” Cas asks, turning toward Dean seriously, unaffected by his naked body.

“What? No,” Dean answers. “Why, does it bother you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Dean grabs deodorant and pushes Cas’ arm up so he can apply it for him. “We got plenty of kids, honey.” He does the other arm. “And we’re old. I don’t need us to be the sole provider of a child for the next 18 years.” He picks up the denim shirt and helps Cas put it on.

Cas places a gentle hand on Dean’s bare hip and rubs his thumb in circles against his skin. “I just think...I think about how perfect Jack is, and how if I was still an angel and could’ve borrowed a female vessel for a while, then maybe we could’ve…”

“Jesus Christ, Cas.” He pats the slope of his belly. “OK, no more jokes about you being pregnant. It’s fucking with your head.”

“Mm, yeah.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Dean’s mouth. “Now be honest with me, does this shirt make me look fat?”

Dean laughs as Cas expands his big stomach out and pulls at the fabric of the tank top to make it tight.

“You look perfect, sweetheart.” Dean jiggles his belly. “Fat and very gay.”

“Thank you.”

Dean puts on his usual jeans and flannel over a plain black t-shirt. He also has a necklace with a ring Cas gave him, but he wears it under his clothes and out of sight. He likes feeling it against his skin.

They eat a quick lunch with everybody before Sam and Eileen head out for their hunt. Cas and Jack go in the backyard to tend to Cas’ garden, which is full of beautiful flowers and absolutely no vegetables.

Jody shows up right when she said she would, and she passes Raven off to Dean before she’s even stepped in the door.

“I’m gonna spend the night here if you don’t mind,” Jody announces as she kicks her boots off.

Dean is cooing at the baby and tickling her belly with one finger. Right now she has dark olive skin and a head full of black hair and big gray eyes, but that could change any minute. Jody got her just a few months ago when she was trying to help her mom, a teenage shapeshifter, but the girl had a lot of complications and died during childbirth. She asked Jody to name the baby Raven after Mystique from X-Men.

Jody, claiming that she’s too old to raise a baby on her own, brings Raven over to Dean and Cas’ for at least one week per month.

“Dean?” Jody presses.

“Hmm?”

“I said I’m gonna stay here tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.” He kisses the baby’s head. “Cas and Jack are outside. Make yourself at home.”

Under her breath, Jody says, “Give a baby to Dean Winchester if you want him not to pay attention to you at all.” She walks to the kitchen and puts on a teapot.

Cas barges in the back door and makes a beeline for Dean, his hands outstretched. “Baby,” he commands.

Dean frowns but hands Cas the baby anyway. He knows if he tries to hog her, he and Cas will have a petty fight about it later.

“Yeah, good to see you, too, Cas,” Jody says, still talking in a dejected tone, grabbing mugs out of the cabinet. “You look good, you been working out? Of course you have, look at you. Yeah, I know, I look good, too. New haircut. Thanks.”

“Hello, Jody,” Cas greets, turning toward her but keeping his eyes on the baby cradled in his arms. She looks impossibly small in his hold. “Your hair looks very nice.”

“Well, thank you, Cas,” Jody says smugly. “Would you like some tea?”

“Are you offering us tea in our own house?” Dean asks.

“You told me to make myself at home.”

Cas moves Raven up to his shoulder, spreading his long, thin fingers over her back to keep her in place with just one hand. With his other hand, he pulls out a barstool at the island and takes a seat. His tank top gets stuck between his underbelly and his lap, and Dean watches, transfixed, as Cas demurely lifts his butt off the chair and flicks his free hand against his shirt to unstick it.

“Dean? You OK?” Jody asks, amused.

“Hmm?” Dean whips his head toward her. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You looked a little lost there for a second, buddy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m very obsessed with Cas.”

Jody laughs. “It’s impossible to even make fun of you anymore. Like, if you’re going to be blissfully happy, at least act a little embarrassed about it.”

Dean walks over to Cas and puts his arm across his middle, presses his cheek firmly against the side of Cas’ chubby face and looks at Jody as he says, “No.”

“Jody, I would love a cup of tea,” Cas says, ignoring Dean. “Thank you.”

Raven fusses and nuzzles against Cas’ shoulder, so Dean reaches his arms out for her and says, “Too much muscle in your shoulder, she can’t get comfy.”

As Cas hands the baby over, he says, “Yes, because your bony body is so much better.”

“Do you guys even like each other?” Jody interrupts.

“No,” Dean and Cas answer in unison. They then look at each other and smile.

Cas asks Jody about the girls, which gets her on a long-winded rant, so Dean kisses Cas’ hair and heads out the back door with Raven. He walks across the porch and takes a seat on the porch swing and watches as Jack stands in front of a flower, says something to it, then moves onto the next flower and says something else.

“Are you talking to every flower, kid?” Dean calls.

Jack turns and tilts his head with a gentle smile. “I didn’t hear you come out here, Dean. Yes, I’m giving each of them longer lifespans.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

It’s mesmerizing, swinging back and forth and watching Jack tend to the flowers. Raven falls asleep quickly, tucked up facedown against Dean’s chest with her head turned to the side.

“See, I’m plenty easy enough to fall asleep on,” he mutters to her.

Jody comes outside a few minutes later, tea in hand. Dean scoots over so she has room to sit next to him on the swing. She doesn’t say anything, just takes a seat and drops her head to his shoulder.

“You know we can keep the kid longer if you need us to,” he says. “Cas has baby fever, so I’m sure he’d be thrilled.”

“Hm. I might,” Jody considers. “Alex is really attached to her though. I am, too, but. I don’t know. It’s different for me.”

“You never thought about having a baby again in your life, did you?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Cas walks out next and stops right outside the door, staring straight ahead at Jack. Cas has both his wrists bent against his hips, hands palm out, straight-back posture making his gut look more pronounced than it already is.

“Hey, Jody,” Dean starts, his eyes on Cas.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Cas is different? I mean, different than how he was as an angel.”

Jody snorts. “Um. That Cas looks like he would eat angel Cas for breakfast.”

“No, I don’t mean—” Now Dean is laughing, too. “Obviously he looks different. I mean, like, the way he’s standing right now. Don’t you think it looks a little…you know…”

“Gay?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, yeah, but only slightly gayer than he used to act.”

Dean balks at that. “What? Really?”

“Honey, I knew Cas was gay the second time I met him. Sure, he’s definitely more comfortable and open and maybe a little more, uh, effeminate now, but he’s always been pretty clearly gay. No offense, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Hm. Well, I’m paying attention now. Very close attention.” He surreptitiously licks his lips.

After a pause, Jody asks, “How did you live so many years of your life unaware of how horny you are for him?”

Dean puffs out a breath. “Shit, I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Like, I have a sleeping baby on me right now—one of my favorite things in the world—and yet it’s taking all of my willpower to keep sitting here with you instead of going to put my stupid hands all over him.”

Cas turns toward them then, offering a close-mouthed smile and a delicate wave of his hand, totally oblivious. “Jack is talking to the flowers,” he says loudly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says back, less loudly so as not to wake the baby. “Powerful as God, and he’s here talking to our fucking plants.”

Cas furrows his brow. “What did I say about cursing?”

Dean rolls his eyes.

They all hang out outside until Raven wakes up and cries for food, so Dean takes her inside and paces around the kitchen while he gives her a bottle. Cas walks through on his way to the bathroom, and Dean stops him with a, “Hey. C’mere.”

“What?” Cas asks, smiling as he closes the distance between them.

Dean leans to the side, keeping the baby steady as he kisses Cas on the lips.

Cas shakes his head when they pull apart. “You have zero impulse control.”

“See Cas, touch Cas. That’s how my brain works.”

His smile widens. “You’re lucky I’m patient.”

Later, Dean is in charge of getting Raven down for the night, Jody is taking a nap upstairs, and Jack and Cas are out picking up takeout for dinner.

The four of them eat at the kitchen table, and Dean inhales his food quickly so he can relax and sling an arm over the back of Cas’ chair while everyone else finishes. He rubs and scratches at Cas’ back while they all talk, occasionally looking over to watch Cas eat. With how muscular he is, Cas would have to have a high-calorie diet even if he didn’t also just love food, but still he eats slowly and properly as he demolishes at least twice as much as everybody else.

Dean, itching to move and sick of being in the same spot for too long, eventually leans over and nips and kisses at Cas’ neck and face, forcing him to eat even slower. Every so often, Cas turns and pecks Dean on the lips in acknowledgment of his ministrations.

“Dean, you look smaller every time I come over here,” Jody says.

“No, optical illusion. It's 'cause Cas is getting bigger,” Dean responds. He pats a loving hand against Cas’ full belly. “He can’t help that he looks extremely cute like this.”

Mouth full of food, Cas turns his head and kisses Dean’s temple in thanks.

“No, I definitely think you’ve lost weight,” Jody continues.

“Yeah, I think you have,” Cas says. “Not that you weren’t skinny before, but you’ve lost weight since you stopped drinking.”

“Mm. Yeah, I guess.” Dean puts a hand on his own stomach, noting how flat it is. He ignores the heat rising to his cheeks at the basic knowledge that Cas notices things about him.

After dinner, Jack asks if they can watch a movie together in the living room, which they of course oblige. Dean can count on zero hands the amount of times he and Cas have told Jack “no” when he’s at their house.

Cas privately asks Jody if she wants a glass of wine, which she turns down. Dean sees the conversation take place as he’s turning the TV on due to his inability to take his eyes off Cas for even one minute.

Jack, god help him, picks some tragic foreign language film and sits cross-legged on the couch with Jody. Cas and Dean settle in sideways on the loveseat, Cas’ back up against the armrest and one leg hanging off the side so Dean can sit between his thighs and rest back against his chest. Dean rubs his fingertips against Cas’ knee and listens to him unwrap candy after candy, occasionally offering one to Dean.

After about 15 minutes, Dean turns his head and cocks an eyebrow at Cas.

Cas looks back at him, confused, as he puts another candy in his mouth. “What?” he whispers.

“You’ve had, like, 20 of those.”

Cas’ face changes into gay bitchiness as he unwraps another one. “Now who’s the nagging wife?”

“Can you two can it?” Jody asks at a regular volume. “I’m trying to hear what these sad French people are saying.”

Dean ignores her and whispers to Cas, “I don’t give a shit about you stuffing your face, babe, I just wish your hands were more Dean-focused.”

“Oh. Of course, Dean.” Cas tosses a wrapper aside and puts his arms around Dean’s torso, squeezing him firmly back against him.

“Mm, that’s better.” Dean snuggles down and bends his arm up to feel Cas’ bicep.

Jody shushes them again.

Cas presses a chocolatey kiss to the bolt of Dean’s jaw and moves one hand across his waist, teasing with the waistband of his jeans. Dean grabs his hand, stopping him.

“Not in front of the kid, dude,” Dean says through gritted teeth.

“I’m not doing anything,” Cas says innocently, his lips still on Dean’s skin.

Jack pauses the movie and looks over at them with a smile. In a sweet, polite tone, he asks, “I don’t mean to be rude, but can you guys please shut the fuck up?”

Cas nudges his head against Dean’s in fake annoyance. “What did I tell you? What did I fucking tell you, Dean?”

Dean can’t stop laughing. “Yes, Jack, we’ll shut the fuck up.”

With nobody to talk to and with Cas carding his perfect fingers through his hair, Dean falls asleep within 10 minutes. He half-wakes up a little while later and finds himself curled up on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest, using his big boyfriend as a bed, his big arms a blanket, big pecs a pillow. Cas’ chest vibrates beneath his ear as he whispers something to Jody, but Dean doesn’t hear it. He balls his hand into a fist and nuzzles his face against Cas’ shirt like a baby and falls back asleep.

When he wakes up again, it’s because Cas is trying to carefully lift him up and take him to bed. He wraps both arms around Cas’ neck and his legs around his waist and hangs on tight as Cas stands, only one of his muscular arms wrapped around Dean’s butt to hold him in place.

“Wow, he really has you whipped,” Jody whispers to Cas.

Cas responds completely seriously, “Why else would I exercise so much if not for this?”

“G’night, Jody,” Dean mutters against Cas’ neck.

“Night, little baby Dean.”

Dean smiles, his eyes still closed. “I like that.”

Jody sighs. “Seriously. Impossible to make fun of him.”

Cas starts walking toward their room as he says, “Dean is an all or nothing person. So many years with so much shame, now he has absolutely none.”

“Hmm. Yeah,” Jody replies. “Night, Cas.”

Dean is fully awake by the time Cas lays him gently down on the bed. He gets up immediately, changes into pajamas and goes to the master bath to brush his teeth. Cas joins him at the sink, wearing just boxer briefs and one of Dean’s shirts. It barely covers his belly button.

“You can’t possibly be comfortable in that,” Dean mumbles with a mouth full of foamy toothpaste. “I don’t get why you’re still wearing my shirts to bed. I told you, you stretch them out and then I can’t wear them.”

Cas spits his own toothpaste into the sink and looks up at Dean through the mirror as he wipes his mouth. “Until the sleeves cut off circulation in my arms, I will keep wearing your shirts to bed.”

Dean pulls at the hem of one of the sleeves, pointing out where Cas snipped it with scissors. “Cheater.”

Once they’re in bed, Dean presses up against Cas’ side, throws one leg over him, buries his face in the crook of his neck, squeezes his butt.

“Finally,” Dean says against his skin. “I’ve been dying to touch you all day.”

Cas smiles and wraps an arm around Dean’s back, shoving his hand down his pants to grab his ass. “Yes, and you showed remarkable restraint by not touching me at all today.”

“C’mon, you know what I mean.”

Cas hums, thinking. “You don’t like having your attention divided. If you can’t focus fully on me, it feels like you’re being deprived of something.”

“Yeah.” Dean rolls completely on top of Cas and kisses the pocket of fat under his chin. “Don’t let it go to your head, though. It’s not like I’m, like, completely obsessed with you or something crazy like that.”

Cas smiles into a kiss, putting his hand to the side of Dean’s face to pull him down to his lips. Dean groans in the back of his throat and rolls his hips.

“Do you want to have sex?” Cas asks between their mouths, like he almost always does, because he has a take-it-or-leave-it attitude about sex and is perfectly content with any amount of physical contact with Dean, no matter how little. So he leaves it up to Dean: a person who needs to touch Cas so badly all the time that he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t.

“No, not with us on baby duty,” Dean says. “Let’s just make out until I fall asleep.”

“Mm, that’s exactly what I fell from grace for.”

Dean laughs and pinches his shoulder, kisses the corner of his mouth. “Hey, you knew me when you fell. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

Cas’ face softens. He rubs the pad of his thumb slowly across Dean’s cheek. “I did. I was willing to give up everything without ever even knowing what your lips feel like against mine. So, excuse me for thinking every second with you now is just icing on the cake.”

Dean blinks. “You’re getting better at food metaphors now that you eat so much.”

Cas allows him to trivialize the moment. He just simply smiles up at him as he wipes a tear from Dean’s face.

So Dean closes his eyes and kisses him, slowly, until he falls asleep.

-----

Dean wakes up to the sound of Raven crying over the baby monitor. She only cried once during the night, when she shapeshifted into a fat pale baby with brown eyes and thin hair and needed a bottle and a change before going back to sleep. Now it’s morning, and Dean blinks awake to the sunlight streaming onto his face. He’s on his stomach, arms wrapped around a pillow under his head, his skin unreasonably warm.

He shifts and feels Cas’ heavy arm draped across his back, his chubby hip squished against his side. Dean shuffles and turns, picking Cas’ arm up and kissing his hand before setting it on the bed and standing up.

Cas is also facedown on the bed, but instead of getting up, he burrows deeper and mumbles sleepily, “Start the coffee, please.”

Dean pinches a sliver of his love handle and leans down to kiss his cheek. “I’ll bring you a cup. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

Cas snores softly in response.

It’s early. The house is dimly lit and quiet, and Dean takes his time changing and feeding Raven. When she’s done with her bottle, he puts her on his hip and carries her out to the back porch to listen to the birds. His phone rings.

“Yeah?” Dean answers.

“Hey,” Sam says. “So, uh.”

“Spit it out, Sam.”

“You know our new rule?”

“Not monsters until they act monstrous,” Dean says, his heart racing. “What happened?”

“Nothing too bad. It’s just that, uh, we think this pack of werewolves may have abandoned their, uh, young.”

“How old? How many?” Dean asks quickly.

“Twins. They’re small, Dean. Six months at most.”

Dean looks at Raven then at the garden in front of him. He thinks about Cas, about how wonderful of a father he is, about what he said yesterday. Then he says, “Well. Bring ‘em here if there’s no other option. We got the space.”