#things we missed behind the scenes this weekend</3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hazelfoureyes · 6 months ago

Text

A Doe in Fall (part 7)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 7 Recognition

It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」

I think I fixed the broken tag list!

....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross. thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link> unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?

Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗

A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.

But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.

No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.

Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.

But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.

The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.

But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.

So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.

Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.

“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.

“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.

“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”

He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”

Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)

Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.

“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”

The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”

“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”

“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”

“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.

“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.

“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”

Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.

Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.

But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?

He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.

Or the wrong person.

Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.

Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.

A record Brady could claim.

When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”

Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”

“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”

“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”

“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”

With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”

“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”

That’d be ideal.

A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.

Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”

“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.

He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”

“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”

The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”

Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I never said sorry.”

You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.

“For what?”

He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”

You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.

Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?

“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”

Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.

You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.

But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”

Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”

His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”

You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”

“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”

You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”

Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.

When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.

A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.

Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.

Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.

You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.

“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”

His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.

The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.

“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”

Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”

Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.

You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.

Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.

And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.

It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.

But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.

When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.

“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”

He asked her why she couldn’t have both.

“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”

He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”

It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?

He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.

“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.

Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.

“Do you know who I am?”

Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”

Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.

“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.

He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.

Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.

Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.

“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.

“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”

When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.

Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?

What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?

You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.

He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”

“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.

He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.

“Hush.” You cooed.

You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.

As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.

He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”

Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”

His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.

Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.

“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.

You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.

“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”

Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.

“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.

He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.

“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.

“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”

When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.

His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.

Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.

For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.

So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.

He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?

“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.

An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.

You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Something like that, yeah.”

His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.

You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.

And you liked him

You appreciated him.

He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.

Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.

Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.

When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.

You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.

“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.

“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.

Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.

“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.

Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.

He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.

When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.

When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.

He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.

You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.

He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.

“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.

“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.

A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.

Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.

Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.

Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.

The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.

Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.

When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.

And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.

Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.

But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.

Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?

When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.

He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.

As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.

You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”

Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.

He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.

You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”

“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”

His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”

Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”

A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”

You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.

While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.

“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”

But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.

A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”

With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.

Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.

He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.

As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.

Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”

Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”

“Tsk, wrong.”

Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.

Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.

“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.

Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.

“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”

You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.

“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.

It clicked, “Absolutely.”

You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.

As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.

He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.

But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.

“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”

“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”

A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.

You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”

He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”

A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.

Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.

Life changing decisions.

Decisions that filled empty homes.

Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?

When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.

When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”

He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”

Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”

“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)

“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”

He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”

“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)

Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.

Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.

A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.

When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.

You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.

Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.

No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos.

Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)

When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.

Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)

Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.

“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”

She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”

“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.

“Is she in some kinda trouble?”

“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”

Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”

He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”

Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)

He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.

“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”

Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”

Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)

“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”

She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)

As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.

Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.

Enough games.

When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.

Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.

James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.

When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.

Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.

“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel x you

643 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 1 month ago

Text

okay, let’s do a part two of birthday cpns. part one is here incase you missed it ✌🏼

let’s start with this wardrobe match. xzs posted another set of photos and this time, xz is all dressed up. well it turns out it’s from the same brand/collection as what yibo wore at yh concert which is amiri. it’s kinda special cause that’s what he used to perform somebody else’s arms which i think is personal. and adding the cpn that the design on wyb’s side had WX on it.

it’s like the tom ford thing ( among others ) all over again. granted that this is a good brand that they have used before but it’s so sus! do they have the same taste? lol. i imagine them talking about clothes and sharing what they think looks good on them. and personally, that collection had some v interesting pieces. so glad they get to wear stuff like this and not just plain black suits.

youtube

now we move on to yibo’s usual photoset related to exploring the unknown 🗺️. he does share personal photos he took from his time shooting for the past saturdays so we knew he will post today. fans have noticed that the number 33 ( gg’s age now ) is somehow incorporated.

his past posts only had one emoji or none. that’s how short and simple he is and we got used to that pattern. but for today, he had 9. and it’s 3 emojis reposted 3x. 33. when people also check this on weibo, it’s coming up as 33 characters. this exact combination. you can put in 9 other emojis that use the hand but it’s not 33. this may be a coincidence. you can say that there are lots of emojis because it’s the last weekend he is expressing his thanks.

also, if you count all the photos/videos in sets he shared ever since he started it’s 33. not including the one posted today.

the universe is truly clowning us. 🤡🤡🤡

and oh, the photoset of wyb and xzs new photoshoot were posted a minute apart. did wyb miss the 16:23? or maybe he was really going for 16:24. I found an explanation here of what it means and it’s so sweet?!

The number 1624 represents love and romance. it can be explained in two ways: 1. Pinyin homophony: In Chinese, "one hundred sixty-two four" is harmonious to "all the way". the sound means smooth progress and smooth development on the road to love. therefore, some people will do it on the occasion of marriage proposal or anniversary.

Digit Split: Split the number, i.e. "1 6" and "24". "16" represents the meaning of "one heart and one mind". it means giving and serving wholeheartedly in love and "24" represents the hours of each day of your life. The number implies that the two of them will spend a whole life together. Day and night, we accompany each other and never leave.

some are also talking about the closed loop of yibo starting his bday with a photo in the desert. and then posting about it again on xz’s bday. 💛

it seems so similar to xz’s bday photoshoot before in a desert where he wore the GUCCI couple necklace. i don’t think i have to explain much, if you were there or read about it — you would know how chaotically sweet that year was.

and the first emoji yibo used ✊🏻✊🏻✊🏻 is the same as the gestured they did in this photo ⬇️⬇️⬇️

this photo too, maybe i’m wrong but when i saw it i was like — two sets of tableware? Is he on a date? lol. or maybe it’s the girlfriend fantasy they are serving here. you and gege on a date? HAHAHAHAHAHA!

FINALLY, xz studio shared 18 photos for the first set. and 9 on the second. they could easily made it 18 + 18 cause that’s the max and i’m sure they have lots of photos. but no. it’s 18 + 9 = 27 which is yibo’s age.

PLEASE SHUT UP. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

I honestly thought it was gonna be chill considering the kinds of cpns we picked up on part one. but this is kinda insane. lol. I think we will still get a video? the behind the scenes of the photoshoots ( hopefully ) and i’m excited to see it!!!!!!

END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #Youtube

116 notes · View notes

annafoxxx7 · 3 months ago

Text

it’s been a while - stanford!art donaldson x reader

author’s note: hey guys I’m back asf 😝 my challengers obsession is on another level I don’t wanna talk about it I can’t put it into words. this fic is lowkey inspired by a few diff scenes from the movie but also by this (NSFW!!!!!) tweet that i found -> https://x.com/sexarchiv/status/1818683083681677640?s=46

I hope y'all enjoy! I wrote this rlly fast lmao (ps: the jack schlossberg scandal fic is coming soon i promise <3)

WARNINGS! pnv, oral (f receiving), cheating, humping i guess, reader is dating patrick, they hook up in the readers dorm at stanford, basically reader is tashi but like not actually

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

It had been a month since you've started school and you had barely seen Art. You’d seen your boyfriend Patrick more times than him, and Patrick didn’t even go to Stanford. One day when you're on the courts practicing, Art walks in and begins to watch you play.

“You gonna say something stranger? Or are you just gonna keep staring like a creep?” You say sarcastically.

He laughs and tilts his head, leaning against the fence behind him.

"Hey now, I'm just admiring the view. You're looking pretty good out there.”

His eyes scan over your body, a playful smirk on his face.

“Thank you, I’ve been practicing like nonstop. How have you been? I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.”

You pick up your things and begin to walk towards the food court.

"Pretty good, pretty good. Just been keeping up with tennis practice and trying to keep my grades up. You know, the usual student life." He chuckles and glances over at you. "I've missed seeing your face. It's been too long."

“How come you haven't said hi? Not to guilt you or anything, but l've been pretty lonely since school started. I could use someone to talk to and I'm sure you could too. college is hard”

He stops in his tracks and turns to face you, a genuinely concerned expression on his face.

"I'm sorry. Honestly, I thought you had been avoiding me. I didn't want to overstep any boundaries, you know?"

“Why would I be avoiding you, Art?”

You take a bite out of the churro you snagged on the way in before offering it to Art to have a bite. He takes a bite and continues talking with his mouth full.

"Well, honestly, I thought maybe it was because of how I used to flirt with you. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea or anything, especially with you and Patrick…” His voice trails off for a moment while he swallows his food. “But if I'm being completely honest, l've missed our friendship and I’ve missed hanging out with you."

“Wait, you were serious with that? I thought you were kidding with the flirty stuff.”

He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed.

"Uh, well, I mean, I do enjoy messing around and getting a rise out of people. But with you..it was different.

“Oh god, Art, I’m sorry. if I would've known I-“

He shakes his head and stops you there with a smile. "No, no need to apologize. Honestly, it was probably more on me than it was on you. I have a hard time being serious sometimes, you know that.”

You pause for a moment to think.

“Hey, let’s go back to my dorm. My roommate is gone for the weekend.”

He raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Oh? Yeah... yeah let's go."

…

You head back to the dorm, barely making it through the door before his lips meet yours.

*He eagerly reciprocates, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. He deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue.

The kiss begins to deepen and he goes towards your bed.

“Wait... Art... I need to... shower... we can’t.”

His lips trail down your neck as he gently pushes you onto the bed, his hand sliding down your side.

"I don't care... I want you now." He whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

“Wait, c'mere.” You continue to kiss him and lead him towards the bathroom. You fumble with the shower behind you turning it on and he begins to tug at your clothes.

He moans against your lips, his hands expertly removing your clothes.

"Fuck... I need you." He steps back to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body. He quickly sheds his own clothes before joining you under the hot water. He presses you against the cool tile and continues to devour your mouth.

He kisses down your body, lowering himself on his knees. He reaches your thigh, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He parts your folds with his fingers, his tongue following suit.

"You're so fucking beautiful..." He murmurs, the sound almost lost in the pounding water. Licking and sucking on your clit, he moans into you. He's starving, a hunger only the taste of your release can satisfy. You feel his hard-on hit your leg. You were too busy kissing to pay attention when he had undressed, but he was bigger than you thought.

He feels your leg quiver and his cock twitches at the thought of being inside you. He pushes two fingers into you, curling them to find that spot that makes you squirm. He sucks and licks at your clit with more force, his other hand gripping your ass tighter. Your head falls back as you reach your climax, your leg shaking beneath you.

Art licks you clean and stands back up meeting your face. His tongue enters your mouth, your own release sweet on his lips. He grinds against your leg needy for his own relief.

“You wanna cum baby?”

He can barely form words to answer your question. He continues to grind against you, his cock painfully hard at this point.

"Ple-please. I wanna be inside you... fuck-" He whimpers into your neck while you rub him teasingly. He's so needy for you.

“Fine, let's dry off first.” You turn off the shower and get out leaving him.

You dry yourself off, bending over to dry your legs. Everything is on display for him, he tries to touch himself but you stop him.

“No touching, you can wait a minute.”

He groans in frustration, his cock throbbing with need. He watches you intently, admiring your body with open lust.

"I-I can wait..." He stammers, trying to keep his hands off himself.

You throw a towel at him and head over to your bed. He can see you from the bathroom, you sit on the edge of the bed and stare at him patiently. Rushing to dry off, he runs over to you and drops the towel. He hovers over you as you lean back, letting your legs spread. He gasps at the sight of you, his cock jerking instinctively.

"Fuck..." He mutters helplessly.

“You want me to make you feel better?” He nods, staring at you with doe eyes. “Okay. Sit down.”

He quickly sits on your bed, back against the pillows. You straddle him, slightly hovering over his leaking cock. You lower yourself and grind against him, slipping and sliding on his length but not yet letting him enter you.

“Does this feel good baby?”

He moans loudly, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Yes..!" He moans, trying to control his breathing as he feels your wetness slick against him.

"Please..."

“Ready?” He nods.

You lift yourself up before lowering back down onto him, this time taking his full length inside of you. He whimpers and quickly bottoms out. Nearly cumming just from being inside of you, he stares up at you, no sound leaving his mouth beside moans.

His blue eyes intensely follow your face as you ride him. His grip on your ass tightens as you grind on him. He reaches up, his fingers tracing your jaw as he moans helplessly. He's not going to last long, the feel of you tight around him is sending his mind into overdrive. His hips buck up against yours, thrusting desperately into your warm depths. His cock twitches inside of you, he's close. You ride him slower, thinking it will edge him. Instead, it puts him over the top.

He cums inside you, the feeling of his release making you clench around his cock, having a second orgasm. Feeling you tightening around him sends jolts of pleasure through his system as he spills his release inside you. He groans loudly, his fingers digging into your hips as he watches you through heavy lidded eyes, a lazy smile on his lips.

"Fuck, baby..." Collapsing on top of him, he kisses your neck. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

His hands slowly, gently trace up and down your back as he holds you to his chest. His lips brush against your neck softly, eliciting a pleased sigh from you.

“We should do that again sometime.” You smirk.

You broke up with Patrick later that day.

125 notes · View notes

ceciliasxx · 2 years ago

Text

—:: Secrets in plain sight ?

cl16 | instagram au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: you and charles prefer to keep your relationship private, so when you start posting a little girl on your instagrams, it leaves people questioning whether or not you may have been hiding a big secret

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 629, 924 others

tagged: charles_leclerc and carlossainz55

yourusername core memory watching charles teach her to play piano + special feature from dumb and dumber (charles and carlos) 🤍

charles_leclerc she’s almost as good as me at piano, and it’s only been a few days

— yourusername she’s a natural protege

— view 73 more replies

livelaughloveleclerc need to see the picture from carlos’s pov

— astrid.olin it’s prob his blackmail material

— carlossainz55 don’t expose my secrets

— ferrari4life LMAO he actually replied 😭

— view 46 more replies

leleleleclercfan okay but who’s the kid in the pictures?? and why is no one talking about them

— selene.daska no because what

— view 38 more replies

f1fanforevss babe wake up, new y/n and charles conspiracy theory dropped

— view 4 replies

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername and 834, 274 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc enjoying the short weekend before the next race.

yourusername so happy we get to spend these small breaks together during breaks between the races <3

— charles_leclerc 🤍

— view 73 more replies

16isthebest stopppp you guys are literally the cutest igh im so jealous

— ferarrarrarrari when will it be my turn

— view 38 more replies

grandgrandprixfanxoxo going to the next grand prix, hope they’re both there so I can get a picture with them ahhhh

— view 2 replies

user8495103 yall the little girl is in the pictures again, i’m telling u that conspiracy going around rn is true

— carlosleclerc highkey agree tbh

— view 64 more replies

f1wags

485, 384 likes

tagged: charles_leclerc and yourusername

f1wags is there a new kid in the paddock? fans have begun speculating that @/charles_leclerc and @/yourusername may have a little girl they’ve been keeping secret based on recent photos posted to their instagram accounts. what do you think?

sienna.layi honestly would be so happy for them not like it’s any of our business anyway

— user83773 right it’s only their business

— view 8 more replies

ferrarif1xxxx i wanna say it’s their kid but like how would they of been able to keep it a secret this long ??

— khloeponta probably had ndas signed tbh

— charles161616 oh definitely

— view 32 more replies

keepingupwthewags okay hear me out, maybe they’re babysitting because you know y/n wouldn’t want to miss out on posting cute pregnancy pictures

— user2375 the only voice of reason so far

— view 21 more replies

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc and 748, 489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername behind the scenes if the paddock during a race 🏎️

livinlifefastt y/n i desperately need an answer to this, what’s your favorite charles moment so far this season?

— yourusername the vegas videos <3

— view 34 more replies

kimiii.ohonnn lmao istg charles just does duck lips in every photo at this point 😭

— view 19 replies

ferrarrigofastt sooooo are we just gonna completely ignore the whole secret kid thing

— liliannaalmaa literally like c’mon

— view 8 more replies

scuscuderia y/n marry me

— yourusername sorry, i’m already taken

— livetheleclercss sobbing crying

— view 42 more replies

yourusername added to their story

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #f1

1K notes · View notes

clairedaring · 5 months ago

Text

random msi ep 7 thoughts - joe's guilt and obligations to the old owner of his new body/life

so i did my reread of the chapters last weekend in preparation for this week's episode and one part stood out to me that i missed in last few rereads was this precious bit where joe expresses his guilt about about using his new body for sex

“Mom, it’s true. I also think that I came across such a good thing. He said that I can repay him slowly, but he’ll lend me the money first for our pressing needs. This money is really nothing to him. The money we owed, we can repay a part of it first. I’ll work hard. It’ll definitely get better in the future. So Mom, you must not have any burden. You must comply with the treatments. It’s only if you live that we can have hope, okay?” [Ing]’s voice trembled, “There is really such good people? How can there be such good people?” [Joe] smiled and confirmed the matter over and over again; only for [Ing] to feel as ease. If she knew that he agreed to such a deal… he wouldn’t dare to think about the consequences. If it was his former body, he may not feel as terrible. He is not a woman, not to mention that he had slept with [Ming] before. However, this body was not his. Although they have converged for so long, [Joe] still could not fully accept this body. Using [Ing]’s son’s body to do this made his heart filled with a sense of guilt. Moreover, when he thought of [Ming] using this body as a (substitute)……he could not describe his feelings. Embarrassed, awkward, and resentful. [Joe]’s heart is full of negative emotions. - Chapter 60, Professional Body Double by Shui Qian Cheng

And obviously since these are more of Joe's inner thoughts, I thought we weren't gonna get them. But then MSI team really took me by surprise by incorporating that bit seamlessly into this scene.

gif courtesy of @pharawee

it's a tiny detail. but one i appreciate very much to the team for having joe (the soul) remains considerate to the old owner of his body, someone he owes his new life to.

and it's actually not the only bit in the novel where he is constantly reminded by the old owner of his new body. like for example, when he first learned of ing's illness, he also considered donating one of his kidneys.

[Joe] made an arrangement with the doctor to have his kidney tested for compatibility the next time he come. This he did secretly behind [Ing]’s back. Even if his kidney is a match, the first issue is that he has no money for the surgery and second is that he’s afraid [Ing] would rather die than to agree to accept his kidney. But no matter what, he has to give it a try. At least there’s more hope to save her. Although [Joe] felt a little fearful on the possibility of having a kidney removed, he had no reason to back down. This body was not his to start with, but belonged to this youngster named [Joe]. He was just a dying person fortunate enough to have his soul hosted in this body to continue on living his life. This youngster is [Ing]’s son. On this body that hosted his soul, every strand of hair, skin and even this life came from [Ing]. He is the closest relative to [Ing]. He cannot evade nor can he be selfish. - Chapter 57, Professional Body Double by Shui Qian Cheng

and i also really like that even in as early as the beginning of the novel, since joe's woken up from his coma he's already committed to being ing's son because he's indebted to the old owner of his new body for giving him a 'renewed treasured life'.

[Joe] glanced at her. Although this woman is not his mother, he thinks that he has the responsibility to take care of her for the rest of her life because he took over her son’s body, making her lose her son forever. He, on the other hand, got a renewed treasured life. He can’t just accept that. He should also take up the responsibility that this life should have taken and complete his obligations. - Chapter 3, Professional Body Double by Shui Qian Cheng

anyhow this was not really a thoughts post, more like an excuse to gush about how much i love this novel and how well the series has been able to capture nuances that i thought would be left out due to tv constraints.

#my stand in #msi thoughts #claire opens up her goddamn mouth #my stand in the series #professional body double #usersasa #userrlana

81 notes · View notes

sorchathered · 9 months ago

Text

Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 6

A/N- sorry I’ve been so behind lately guys! Life has been kicking my ass and writers block has reared its ugly head. But I’m finally here, we are going to do a couple of time jumps in the future but if you’ve read Lover you know we have a happy ending, so don’t worry!

Summary- Jake and Stormy hadn’t seen each other in a month, finally a long weekend sees our lovers reunited, but not everything is smooth sailing.

Warnings- Drinking, language, a little bit of violence, smut (save a horse, ride cowboy Jake 🤠). Minors DNI.

Song inspo- “I miss you”- Adele

Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)

It had been nearly a month since you’d seen Jake, your perfect week in San Diego heavy on your mind as you packed your bag for the holiday weekend. The two of you had been swamped with work but every available hour of free time was spent on FaceTime, most nights falling asleep together through the phone.

Stepping out of the airport brought it all back, sometimes you still couldn’t believe he was really yours, especially when he was scooping you into his arms and carrying you bridal style to his truck, giggles pouring from your lips at his need to be touching you at all times.

He’d missed you so damn much, he’d barely made it in the door before he’d taken you up against the wall (you knew that sundress had been a good idea) and then again in the shower before you both finally collapsed in the sheets of his California king bed he’d let you pick out before you went back to Florida.

Waking up to him would always be your favorite thing, he looked so at peace and almost boyish in the mornings it made your heart clench as your eyes took him in. Heavy body half slung over yours, perfect hair in complete disarray as he let out little snores (that he vehemently denied were a thing).

You’d spent the day at the beach catching up with the daggers and getting all the hot gossip from Phoenix and Bob’s wife Ellie. Rooster had been relocated to the Golden Warriors due to an altercation he’d had with Jake on your last visit, he and Mirage were apparently working on a relationship and she was still very much pregnant. You had ripped him to shreds before you left and hoped he would get his shit together so it was refreshing to hear that he at least seemed to be trying for his future child. Ellie also spilled the beans that she and Bob’s newest baby would be a little girl, their very first and you had to laugh and say a silent prayer for her 3 big brothers, sweet little thing would no doubt be spoiled rotten.

—————————————————————-

Dinner and drinks at the Hard Deck were a must, you never thought you’d be so nostalgic for one of Penny’s greasy cheeseburgers and a night of pool with your friends. You offered to grab the next round of beers, copping a feel of your super hot boyfriend as you passed, truly the man had no right to look this good. It made it more and more difficult to leave San Diego being in his orbit, he’d clearly been spending way more time in the gym without you around and it definitely showed, you were pretty sure one wrong move would split the sleeves of his button up from the swell of his biceps and it had you hot and bothered already.

Penny rang up your beers as you two chatted and got caught up, but you noticed a concerned look from her in the direction of your group that had you craning your neck to see the issue. You’d barely been gone 5 minutes and already two of the little tag chasers that frequented the bar every weekend were crowding Jake and Javy, barely there tops and cut off shorts leaving very little to the imagination as you caught one of the girls place her hand on Jake’s chest.

“Hey no fighting in my bar Stormy, you know the rules” Penny said with a gentle hand on yours, she should practically see the steam billowing from your ears as you took the scene in.

“I know the rules Pen, I promise to be sweet as pie” you scooped up the beers and gave her a wink, she groaned and facepalmed as she mentally prepared herself for what you had in store for those poor unsuspecting idiots.

Natasha caught your eye as you placed the beers on the table, probably a little rougher than was necessary and she tried to catch your arm but you easily slipped from her grasp as you looped through the crowd of your friends. Jake looked a little panicked when he saw your face, he had tried to warn them off that his girlfriend was here and he wasn’t the least bit interested but these girls were persistent, one had even gone so far as to suggest you could come home with them and watch and Javy had to stop himself from laughing directly in her face. You didn’t share and you certainly didn’t take kindly to someone trying to touch your man, so when you’d crossed the threshold to the pool table everyone seemed to stop what they were doing, very interested in seeing where this situation would go.

One of the girls had her hand on Jake’s bicep as he was trying to let her know his girlfriend was behind her, as she whipped around to say something snarky but it all died in her throat when you grasped a handful of her hair and yanked her backwards.

“Didn’t your mama ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?” You said as you pushed her towards her friend, both of them stumbling backwards in their ridiculous stilettos.

“Look honey I get that you think you’re something special but your “boyfriend” isn’t the relationship type, he’s told me so before several times after we’ve hooked up so I-“

She didn’t get very far before you lunged at her, it took Jake, Javy and Mickey to hold you back as the bell rang out from the bar. You hadn’t hurt anyone yet but Penny decided it was best to send both girls packing before she had to call a coroner to collect them. You were fuming, once they’d been sent overboard the boys let you go, you smacked all of them on the arms as you wrenched yourself from their grasp, stomping out the back exit with your middle finger in their general direction. Jake was on your heels with a promise that he’d keep you from hunting them down, catching you just as you slammed your fist into the weathered wood of the building.

He grabbed your hand before you could do anymore damage and you half wanted to rip his head off, looking every bit your callsign with the storm raging in your eyes.

“Baby, come on, look at me please? Don’t worry about those girls, you know they don’t mean shit to me…right?” He suddenly looked very worried at the thought that you might not believe him. “You do know that don’t you?”

You swiped the tears from your eyes before you could get more emotional and let him pull you into his arms, you weren’t really pissed at him and deep down he knew that. “Of course I do Jake, you’ve never lied to me, it's just still new with us, sometimes I forget just how many of these girls have been one night stands, I’d be lying if it doesn’t make me feel a little jealous. I feel like I need to keep you locked up in the house, it should be illegal for you to look this good.”

He throws his head back and laughs at that, but you’re serious. He’s yours now and you want everyone to know that the only girl Hangman is taking home is you.

You slide your hand across the back of his scalp and give a sharp tug, making his eyes fly open as he tries to stifle a moan.

“Does it look like I’m joking Seresin? You want to swagger around here in your half buttoned shirt and slutty jeans, getting me all hot and bothered? You like making me jealous? Maybe we need to go home so I can show you who you belong to since you seem to have forgotten.”

His pupils are blown and irises nearly nonexistent, you can feel him hot and hard pressed against your thigh, you know this side of you has got him right where you want him.

“You just say the word sugar and we can head home, I’ll even get on my knees and beg you to forgive me.” He says a little shakily, he’s not at all used to someone else being in control but damn he wants to see where you take this, it may be the hottest thing he’s ever seen watching you be dominant and a little mean to him. He’d fuck you right on the pool table in front of everyone right now if you asked, he’s starting to worry the two of you might not make it home without him taking you.

It didn’t take much convincing to leave the group shortly after, you were still angry and Jake was definitely too turned on by it to continue playing pool. You barely said a word on the ride home, and didn’t give him the chance to open your door as you marched into his house, disappearing down the hallway to the bedroom. He shook his head and chuckled a little, it was hard to take you seriously when he knew the end result would be the two of you fucking but he had no idea what you had in store.

——————————————————————

You’d planned on making this weekend a little adventurous anyways but now you were angry and determined, overcome with the need to be in charge. So when Jake stepped into your space seeing you stripped down to your lingerie you refused to let him touch you, swatting his hands away and pushing him towards the mattress.

“C’mon baby you aren’t still mad are you?” Jake huffed as you took both his hands and bound them with the rope you’d originally brought for him to use on you.

“You promised you’d beg for forgiveness Jakey, so that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. No touching, no cumming until I say so, by the time I’m done with you I’ll have you a ruined mess. How’s that sound?” You were eyeing him with curiosity, you’d always let him take the lead in bed but you had a feeling he would like this more than he had ever let on. You definitely weren’t disappointed as you saw his eyes darken, he was practically salivating at your words and you hadn’t even touched him yet. Grasping his chin between your fingers you hovered your lips against his, every time he leaned forward you pulled back and by the third time he was whining, you knew he’d be putty in your hands but this was better than you’d expected.

“Baby I-I’ll do whatever you want, fuck just-just kiss me please and then you can string me up six ways to Sunday, I’ll be good I promise.” He had the cutest little pout going and you couldn’t help but lean in and give him what he wanted, running your hands through his golden hair and licking into his mouth as he tried to scoot closer to you, poor thing probably didn’t even realize he was doing it until you stepped away from him completely soaking in his pink cheeks and glazed eyes.

“Alright sweet boy, you got your kisses. Sit still and be good, promise I’ll make it worth your while. I need you to tell me if it’s too much though, ok?” You lean in to press kisses to his forehead as he nodded enthusiastically and you try to stifle a laugh, he’s like a damn puppy just trying to get your attention.

“Alright baby, lay back. Think I might give you something you’ve been asking for first, gonna let me ride your pretty face? How’s that sound?”

He scoots to the headboard as fast as he possibly can with his hands tied, gazing up at you as you remove your skimpy underwear and climb up his body, pressing kisses and nips to his skin and oh you might just be hooked on all the little noises he’s making. Finally settled above his face he gives you that million dollar grin you love so much, and licks from your entrance to your clit, testing the waters as he goes through all the little tricks that have proven to have you a moaning mess, the room filling with sounds of you both and the lewd wet noises as Jake ate at you like a starved man. Once he’d sent you over the edge, white knuckling the headboard as you cried out for him you felt a little more at ease, but you wanted more. He had a bit of a kink for edging you and you’d always wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, so you climbed off of him with jelly legs and splayed your naked body on top of his, pressing his tied wrists above his head as you tasted yourself on his tongue and ground your obscenely wet pussy all over his clothed cock, he was hard as a rock bucking up into you at the delicious friction. Pulling him from his briefs caused him to hiss into your mouth, and you pulled back to nip at his jaw, seeking out the spot on his neck that was most sensitive.

“Oh fuck, baby come on now, you can’t just tease me like this forever- Jesus Christ-“

You’d found the spot evidently, that combined with you grinding yourself across his erection, letting your clit bump against the head as he flexed his hands against the rope. “Shhhh, let me have my fun baby, ohh ohhh it feels so good, shit you feel so fucking good” you were close again already and Jake was losing his mind, in reality he could get out of these knots fairly easily but he’d promised to be good, maybe he had a death wish but saying underneath you like this would be a damn good way to go. He felt himself getting close, you could tell he was nearly there when you wrenched yourself away from him and watched the look of shock cross him as the neediest whine you’d ever heard came from your big hulking boyfriend.

He was leaking like a damn faucet in your hand, tip angry red while his chest heaved, an artist couldn’t begin to try and sculpt how gorgeous he looked to you, your mouthy over the top man was quickly being reduced to a puddle and you were thrilled with the result. You proceeded to play with him and back off two more times with your hands and mouth before he was thrashing his head back and forth, a sob bubbling up from his chest.

“Please-please baby I can’t anymore you win, next girl that comes near me is gonna know I’m yours before she even gets close enough, f-fuck shit I can’t- love you so fucking much”

You laved your tongue over the head of his cock and batted your eyelashes, you definitely got the appeal now as you took in his sweaty form, poor Hangman; reduced to near tears in under an hour just from his sweet little girlfriend, if you were honest you enjoyed it a little too much. Sliding back up his body you removed the ropes, kissing at his wrists and he sighed in relief, he kept his hands to himself as he waited to see if you’d give him what he needed.

“Go ahead Jakey, take what you want baby I’m all yours.”

He flipped you both over immediately, sucking on your tongue as he slammed into you, loud moans and harsh slapping noises coming from your bodies as he sought out his release.

“Fuckin mean, toying with me like that sugar. You know you’re all I’ve wanted, think about this pretty pussy gripping me tight all fucking day, give anything to fuck you like this every night. Nobody makes me feel as good as you do- no one. Love you so goddamn much.”

Now he’s turned you into the moaning mess, playing with your clit as he fucked you hard, you were on the edge again he could feel you pulsing around him, pulling your face into his he sucked your bottom lip and came, desperately grinding up against him as you rode the aftershocks together.

You couldn’t believe what had come over you and you put your hands over your face and giggled. He laughed at how cute you looked and stole kisses, you both needed to get up and shower but these little moments were so scarce these days that he couldn’t help but stay put as long as you’d let him.

——————————————————————

Sunday morning was lazy lovemaking and breakfast in bed, before he finally had to help you pack up to head back to the airport. You’d been a bucket of tears the whole car ride, practically in his lap in the truck the second he’d parked.

“We got this baby” he’d said as he walked you to security, and your heart broke with every step you had to take to get on your plane. Once a month would never be enough, you both wanted a lifetime, it was time to make some changes.

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @roosterforme @pinkdaisies9285 @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @mygyn @angelbabyyy99 @86laura11 @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @jostan456 @kmc1989 @dempy @its-the-pilot @mrsevans90 @purelyfiction @nouis-bum

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman smut #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman imagine #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfiction #sacred new beginnings #snb #Jake and Stormy

77 notes · View notes

thesweetroro · 2 months ago

Note

Hiya! I just discovered your account and I'm so happy someone is making new content of this series (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥) So I don't know if you have been reading the manga but if you did could you write some headcanons of how would it be cuddling with Mei,Ido,Kojiro and Orochi? (If you don't know any of them do it with Samon,Honey,Tsukumo and Kenshiro)

Unfortunately i didn’t read the manga but i’ve seen those characters! and as soon as i could be able to read the manga i promise to tell you guys all 💗, but in the mean time i only can be able to do anime characters 🙂‍↕️.

And thanks for making a request + putting afford to care if i read the manga , i was gonna be so disappointed to turn you down.

𐙚 ˚🍥(cuddle buddy,pt.2!)｡˚ ᡣ𐭩

꩜ Requests 🩰 .ᐟ

── .✦ 🎠 Building (4+5+13+3)

── .✦🏷️ the inmates + guard

ꪆৎ

⋆｡🐩𖦹°🍥⭒˚｡⋆(kenshiro)

The puppy that he is , craving cuddles but as his ago denies!

He would be whimpering when he finally gets to have you in his office after being pent up all day and stressed out , just laying in his couch telling him how much you like his fancy old man smell.

Love and love to cup you and cover your up by his (Coat, cloak?) i don’t know you name it but you will get that peace of fabric around you.

His favourite thing to do when you slowly start to kiss him from one finger and end up kissing him underneath his eye gang.

I would say that man is ASMR lover so please go clean his ears and scratch his hanging hair.

More willing to cuddle when it’s the weekend it’s really REALLY hard to get that man out of bed or him letting go of you.

𐙚‧₊˚🐉✩ ₊˚🏯⊹♡(samon)

Good luck with trying to have him in one place,he loves you and your smell and your warmth but also,he can’t give up his work!! especially when no one can get the job done for him as he wishes for.

When you guy first started dating you would never leave each other arms and always cuddle and sleep together at one time both of you went out to some mall and he got you a big stuffed hello kitty .

Now when he became really busy he comes home or his office and sees you sleep or cuddle her,he regrets every walking muscle he used that day to get you her.

When he finally gets free and come cuddle you, he can see how upset you are when you look away and ignore him , but of course he knows how to make it up for you( whatever you like).

But after all you guys are cuddling back together and yapping about everything and tell you he misses you and how shity work as always and that he is SORRY.

His favourite thing in cuddle is to eat ice cream with you and get to be babied by you and lay on you and talk about how he would kick that stuffed kitty.

ꪆৎ

༘⋆📼˚ ༘ ೀ🎎⋆｡˚(tsukumo)

Sucker for cuddles or any affection from you , and since he needs alot of comfort that could help improve your relationship better! like when he feels comfortable he gets to open up and brake the personality.

Likes it even more when you’re on top of him with the prettiest thing to wear taking a little picture with his camera he got for you as a girl to get your memories together! looking so beautiful gorgeously delicious .

Would adore any and every thing you do and say to make him feel better in your arms and when someone else says something else he pull “but my wife said yes”.

Drive him crazy is the best part about it for him ,like slowly and gently take off his mask off of him and doing his skin care for him or try a trick or makeup.

And when you guys are almost asleep he talks about his behind the scenes stuff then both of.

. ݁₊ ⊹ 🍯. ݁˖ . 🎯݁༉‧₊˚.(Honey)

He doesn’t even try do denie it he loves being thrown in your arms in any change “ so i cut my finger accidentally while playing cards” “how did you?.-” “so you’re not gonna hug me and kiss me and tell me im gonna b alright?”.

A simple guy used to start his day by skincare routine and then just continue his day,but that was along time ago now he won’t even leave the bed just to hold you even more “no babe it’s cold,it’s winter, we will get sick”.

Everything you do is this guy’s favourite thing no matter what is it,but what about what he does? he likes having you oh him as he kisses you on your forehead and your neck then starts tweaking on your smell.

And plump on your back until you sleep.

ꪆৎ

hope you liked it 💋!.

#nanbaka #nanbaka fan #nanbaka jyugo #nanbaka uno #nanbaka x reader #nanbaka nico #nanbaka the numbers #nanba prison #yu nanba #nanbaka rock #nanbaka samon #nanbaka kenshiro

24 notes · View notes

msbhagirathi · 5 months ago

Text

A Tribute To ARRTI (FF by meera30) Part 1

Link to the OG story

You remember that scene from part 3 where both Khushi and AV were staying over NK's house at the weekend? The morning when Khushi woke up in a happy mood and subconsciously made two cups of tea? We were robbed off the many things that the author could have given us. Let's create something in that line. Aao. :)

“Stop.” She whispered as the moment froze and silently melted into her veins. Why? Why had she said the word? She didn’t want him to stop. She…Her throat clenched as she blinked and shifted from her place.

She scrunched up her eyes shut. Already frustrated of trying to avoid what she wanted so bad. She felt heat surrounding her senses and a warm breath fanning her face. He came closer to her if that was still possible.

He inched up his hands slowly towards her back and placed them on her back ever so lightly. He knew her state. He knew she was feeling conflicted. She was trying to fight the 'potential betrayal' that she could face again if she so happened to trust him again. But, the attraction was becoming as strong as powerful gusty winds, difficult to resist by each passing day.

He understood her turmoil because he too was in the same turmoil. Trying to figure out what exactly was going on with his heart nowadays.

He saw her eyes relaxing but remained closed. Her lips trembling ever so slightly. She looked so kissable at that moment. He could literally kill to kiss her at that moment. But she had whispered him to stop.

He had given her the options. And she had chosen to stop.

He closed his eyes, took off his glasses and placed his lips softly on her forehead.

I love you Khushi.

He gingerly pulled back a little to gauge her reaction. She looked so calm and peaceful.

He felt his eyes welling up with the intensity of emotions running inside him. He felt guilty for running away and never contacting her back ever again. He felt angry on himself. He felt pitiful for himself.

He could literally go down on his knees and join his hands to beg for her forgiveness.

And even then she would reject me and my apology.

He slipped in his glasses and slowly peeled himself out of her space and left the kitchen.

Khushi opened her eyes only to feel cold chilly air surrounding her devoid of the heat that had enveloped a few moments ago.

She instantly missed his presence.

His gaze.

On her.

The warmth.

She turned to the counter behind her only to find two mugs of tea innocently sitting on it, waiting to be sipped. Already in the brink of going down the room temperature.

She quickly picked up the mugs and went off towards the attic where he had spent the night.

She went up the staircase. Her steps slow and tentative. Confused as she was, by the un-seen part of Nishant Sir's beautiful house.

She knocked the door but no one answered. So she walked in.

The interiors were as beautifully furnished as the rest of the house had been.

Two single beds occupying the two extreme sides of the attic, covered with plush silk bed covers. Sets of three pillows arranged neatly on it. A miniature sized rocking chair placed somewhere in the middle of the room. A window being the highlight, the central part of the room, sunlight running in through it, with full galore. The roof above, bent to the sides, giving it a somewhat triangular shape. A carry bag resting on one of the beds indicating it's owner.

"Wow."

The only word she could manage to whisper out.

Someone behind her cleared their throat. She came back from the trance, she had slipped into. She started without a preamble.

"Hi. Listen I accidently made an extra cup of tea so I thought I could give it to my.. AV sir so please let him know when he comes back."

She quickly went up to the window and placed the cup securely at its edge.

When she turned back to leave, she saw her AV sir smiling back at her with his smile that had the potential to make her nervous and jittery irrespective of what age she was or had been; today or a decade back.

"I didn't know I was yours Khushi." he exclaimed.

"You never told me that you have such a strong sense of possessiveness towards me." he whispered walking towards her with that slow predative pace. His voice barely a rasp.

He was again standing as close to her as he had been a few moments ago in the kitchen.

At this point, Khushi was fighting tooth and nail to avoid looking at his lips.

Hey shivji why did it have to be him out of all the people in this whole damn house? Why do you hate me so much?

Clearing her throat, she averted her gaze and mumbled, "I was going to say my boss but then I thought it was better not to, so I said AV sir instead."

I so wish I could acknowledge the possessiveness I feel for you dammit. Fuck.

But Arnav Varun was on cloud nine. Even if it had been a moment of confusion and yet the universe had conspired for him to hear the words right from his lady-love say out loud to him.

He started walking towards her with some unknown kind of hunger. The desire still thrumming through his veins were yet to subside when universe once again conspired to throw him in front of her.

He kept taking ~oh-so-slow~ steps with that fixating gaze.

His gaze was making her nervous she started stepping back. One step at a time. Until there was no space left to step back. She was trying to avoid looking directly at him. At his eyes. Those honey brown sunrise-irises cutting through the invisible but ever-present lens of his rim-less glasses. Few strands of his hair falling down on his forehead from the side, making her want to run her fingers through them.

She was trying so hard to suppress the urge to do something. Anything.

Running her fingers through his soft and silky tresses.

Running away and out of this room, and perhaps out of Detroit itself.

Pull out his glasses and hold his face with both her hands.

Pushing him away from her and giving him an earful for violating her space twice in a row this morning.

Yank him out his t-shirt and run her fingers through the entire expanse of his torso and the angry gash that ran about the length of his arm.

Hey shivji! Yeh hum kya-

He looked at her face, eyes scrunched up shut, glasses slightly displaced upwards, lips trembling chanting something incoherent.

He swallowed on his own saliva. At that exact moment, he stood so close to her. He could see each and every fiber of her being at a microscopic accuracy.

Her scrunched up eyes and nose, her li-

I need to step away.

I need to stop.

Khushi has told me to stop.

Arnav, rukh jao.

He closed his eyes and commanded himself to step away-

Bas ek baar..

Jyada nahi kuch...

He opened his eyes only to find her looking at him with an ardent curiosity and something else he didn't want to name yet.

He bent down towards her slowly.

But she might have gotten some other idea as she again closed her eyes shut. A strange sense of anticipation overtook her whole being.

He slowly extended his arm to grab the mug that she had earlier placed. The tea having already become as cold as a chilled glass of water.

Koi baat nahi hum isse garam karke pilenge.

Isse kaise chhor sakte hain..

Yeh humare liye Khushi ne banaya tha.

Nevertheless, he picked up the mug and stepped back and walked away, having already understood the idea that she might have gotten when she saw him bending towards her.

Kamaal hai khud mana karne ke baad khud hi ekdum ready ho gayi.

Khushi aapne hume maar dalne ka faisla kar hi liya hai shayad.

A wistful smile appearing on his lips, he walked away with a heavy heart.

Khushi breathed a sigh of relief and disappointment.

SHIVJI! Hum aapse baat karna hi chhor denge. Aap humesha hume uss-

Stomping her feet on the floor, she humphf-ed and left the room to get ready for their departure.

When she came out of her room into the main hall she could hear music flowing out from the den. Toweling her still dripping hair she went down the staircase only to come face to face with the man who she could kill to avoid.

He was showered and dressed up in a beige turtle-neck, sleeves rolled up to his forearms (HEY SHIVJI.) dark blue jeans, with a pair of woolen flip-flops on either foot. Hair washed and gelled back neatly to perfection. The frame of his rimless glasses matching the color of his turtleneck.

She kept ogling at him until someone in the room cleared their throat. She looked away and found Nishant sir and Divya ma'am smiling at her sheepishly. The rest of the gang busy in setting up the instruments. She smiled back at them feigning innocence and settled herself on the couch.

Out of the corner of her eyes suddenly she saw AV moving around the den and picking up his guitar. He settled himself on the his favorite bar-stool and put his guitar on his lap gently.

Within a few seconds, the room was filled with music again and everyone else listened to it. The den earlier springing with music and chatter, surprisingly became as quiet as an examination hall.

"Chhupana bhi nahin aata

Chhupana bhi nahin aata

Jatana bhi nahin aata..

Hume tumse mohabbat hai

Batana bhi nahi aata

Chhupana bhi nahin aata

Jatana bhi nahin aata..

Hume tumse mohabbat hai

Batana bhi, nahi aata

Chhupana, bhi, nahin aata

Jatana, bhi, nahin aata..."

To say Khushi was shocked would be an understatement. Not because of the choice he had made but because he had sung the lines looking directly at her. With an un-flinching, un-wavering and un-disturbed gaze trained on her. Just her.

"Hatheli par tumhara naam,

Likhte hai, mitate hai,

Tumhi se pyaar, karte hai,

Tumhi se, hi kyon chupate hai

Juban pe baat hain lekin

Sunana hi nahin aata

Hume tumse

mohabbat hai

Batana bhi, nahi aata

Chhupana, bhi, nahin aata

Jatana, bhi, nahin aata.."

She saw a sad smile pass his face when he broke the eye-contact he was meticulously maintaining a few lines ago. As if he really had done..

No Khushi. Stop day dreaming. Aisa kuch nahi hai..

He is just singing a song. Bas. That's it.

His voice flinched a little this time. He kept looking somewhere down while singing.

"Chori chori

chupke chupke

Tumko dekha karte hai

Hey..Chori chori

chupke chupke

Tumko dekha karte hai

Haale dil sunane se

Na jane kyon darte hain

Kitna pagal dil hai mera

Manana bhi nahi aata

Hume tumse mohabbat hai

Batana bhi nahi aata

Chhupana, bhi nahin aata

Jatana, bhi, nahin aata

Chhupana bhi nahin aata

Jatana bhi nahin aata

Hume tumse mohabbat hai

Batana bhi nahi aata.."

As the next stanza came about a new energy singed through his stance. Slowly and gradually she realized that his cheeks were turning into a tint of pink.

She couldn't quite understand this set of incidents. Was he really in lo-

Did he really loved her?

Suddenly her phone's ringtone tore through the beautiful tranquility that the room had been surrounded with. She turned out its volume and quietly excused herself out of the den, unknown to a longing gaze by a certain someone as the song came to an end.

[Psst...psst idhar aao @arshifiesta this is my latest submission along with this whole damn blog that is, lol.]

15 notes · View notes

senashenta · 1 month ago

Text

Everything I Do

Title: Everything I Do

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Just. All the smut. All of it.

Summary: When Dean calls on Cas to meet up with him, even though it’s only been seven weeks since their last meeting, Cas agrees immediately, and books a bus to Lawrence, Kansas. But meeting Dean in Lawrence isn’t all burgers and sex, things are COMPLICATED for Dean in Lawrence. Always have been, probably always will be. Plus, he’s just coming off a positively DISASTROUS Hunt with his Dad. Over the weekend, Cas learns a little more about his boyfriend—and maybe Dean learns a little more about himself as well.

Notes: If you’re coming into this fic blind, it’s the FIFTH in a series, and I highly recommend you read the rest of them first. Just click on the “Horror High et al Master Post” link under the notes here and everything is listed in order. So much smut though. So much. (Especially in the one-shots.)

Literally ended up writing this just to include one specific scene that I WANTED to include in Cerulean Blue and ended up having to leave out. This one, like Cerulean Blue, has a plot (if you squint), so it’s not JUST about the smut, though there IS plenty of that. Also just, like, so many feels.

A BRIEF, SHINING MOMENT OF TOP!CAS AND BOTTOM!DEAN (that was REALLY weird for me to write) before we return to your regularly scheduled Top!Dean and Bottom!Cas. Is everyone happy now? :D;;

Cas is, again, taking a bus from Tallahassee to Lawrence, and teh google tells me that to drive that distance takes 16 hours and 16 minutes. So, adding on time for stops and transfers, I rounded it up to a 21-hour trip (give or take) for him. Sucks not being able to drive (this is coming from someone who, in fact, does NOT drive, so I know.)

Go listen to “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” by Bryan Adams, if you never have. It’s a fantastic song and ABSOLUTELY embodies Cas and Dean’s relationship in this particular AU: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0pdQU87dc8 <3

HORROR HIGH et al TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

EVERYTHING I DO By Senashenta

[Motel 6, 6850 W. 108th Street, room 2.]

It was only seven weeks after their week together in New York City and the whole Sally debacle, and Cas was already coming off another twenty-one-hour bus ride, this time to Lawrence, Kansas, where Dean was waiting for him, apparently at an actual Motel 6 this time. He hauled his backpack off the bus with him and headed out to the front of the station to hail a cab, and soon he was on his way to the motel, exhausted from his long trip.

Not that Cas was complaining. It would be nice, to be seeing Dean so soon after their last meetup. Usually there was at least three, sometimes four months in-between, and the time always seemed to go by like molasses, even though they kept in touch over the phone and the computer in the meantime.

But something had seemed… different, this time around, when Dean had said he could take the time to meet Cas again so soon. Something in his voice had been off. There had been a sort of urgency there, for the last-minute meetup. When Cas had asked about it, Dean had brushed him off, but Cas knew something was wrong—maybe not anything huge or life-altering, but something.

When he got to the motel in question—a little run-down but not the absolute shittiest place they had ever met up—Cas made his way down the row of doors until he reached number two, then knocked lightly and waited for Dean to answer, hiking his backpack farther up his shoulder while he waited.

When the locks unlatched and the door opened, Dean just grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him into the room, then kicked the door closed behind him. Cas let his backpack slide to the ground even as Dean pushed him up against the door, kissed him once, briefly—and then just leaned into his chest, the older man’s forehead coming down to rest against his shoulder.

“I missed you, Cas.” Dean muttered.

Cas came back with a murmur of, “tell me what’s wrong, Dean.”

Dean sighed but didn’t lift his head, instead nuzzling closer into Cas’s neck, and Cas brought his arms up around the other man, just holding him quietly for what seemed like forever. “Nothing’s wrong when I’m with you.” Dean replied finally, voice quiet, “that’s the point.”

“Liar.” Cas accused softly, not unkind, and then shoved off the door, jostling Dean in the process, and tugged the other man over to the bed. He quickly stripped out of his trench coat and shoes and then climbed onto the mattress, motioning for Dean to join him. “Come here, Dean.” Dean made quick work of crawling over to sprawl next to him, and Cas pulled him into his chest, wrapping him up in his arms comfortably. “Much better, right?”

Dean just grunted quietly and buried his face in Cas’s neck once more, and the two of them stayed like that for a while, Cas rubbing along Dean’s arm while Dean slowly unwound a little.

Finally, when Dean seemed a little more relaxed, Cas murmured, “do you want to talk about it?”

Dean was quiet for another couple of minutes. Cas just continued stroking along his arm gently, reassuring. “Dad and I…” Dean began finally, then trailed off and pressed his forehead harder into Cas’s shoulder for a second; “we got a lead on the demon—the demon—up in Yakima, and I… I messed up, I…” He made a frustrated noise, then, and huffed by Cas’s neck, “we could have got it, Dad was sure we could have got it, but I fucked up and it got away. It got away because of me, and Dad just—”

Cas could guess that John had just, when it came to that particular demon. “That bad?”

“If we’d had a house, he would’ve kicked me out of it,” Dean said quietly, “he screamed and shouted and told me to get away from him, get lost until I got my head on straight, and so I bailed and—”

“And you called me?” Cas gave a little, brief smile. “Is that why you picked Lawrence, for us to meet up?”

“Lawrence is my home, Cas. Or the closest thing I’ve ever had to one.” Dean admitted.

“I understand.” Cas ducked to kiss by Dean’s temple gently, “what do you want out of this weekend, Dean?”

The older man was quiet for a while, and Cas just continued rubbing at his arm gently, trying to be reassuring. Eventually Dean shifted so his head was leaning properly against Cas’s shoulder. He slung an arm over Cas’s chest, the reverse of their usual positions, and sighed. “Just… be you, Cas. Remind me that I’m not completely worthless, that I’m not a terrible person, just for a couple of days.”

“Dean…” Cas’s hand stopped moving and he wrapped his arms around Dean tightly, holding him close. “Don’t ever think those things of yourself. You’re never worthless and you’re not a terrible person…” Trailing off slightly, he frowned and murmured, “I can’t believe your Dad would actually say those things to you…”

“He’s… hard on me. With good reason. I’m the eldest, and I can’t… make mistakes. Not like that. If I can’t do the job, I’m worthless. If I can’t finish the mission—the big mission—I’m a terrible person.” Dean sounded like he was actively parroting some of the things his dad had said to him. He turned his head to bury his face and mumbled, “I’ve never felt so useless, Cas…”

“Hey. Stop.” Cas slid one hand up to thread into Dean’s hair and tugged gently, “you are none of those things, Dean Winchester.”

Dean made a soft disagreeing noise and left his face buried in Cas’s chest but stopped talking. They were both quiet for a few breaths before Cas began carding his fingers through Dean’s hair gently.

“Dean you are… courageous and strong and fierce, like the heart of a lion. But you’re also loving, giving and caring. You’re the most caring person I know.” Cas hummed softly, considering before continuing; “you’re so gentle, and selfless, you take care of people over yourself. Me. Your Dad. Your brother. Complete strangers. You’re smart, cunning… and funny. You make me laugh all the time. And you’re… passionate, you carry so much passion in your heart, sometimes it’s overwhelming. You have so many fantastic qualities, Dean, I can’t even begin to list them all… but you are not and never will be worthless or useless or a terrible person.”

“Sometimes I don’t think I’m any of those things, Cas.”

“Trust me, you’re all of them and more.” Cas tugged at his hair gently again, pulling Dean’s head up and leaning in for a kiss. “But most of all, you love me. Somehow, for some reason, you love me.”

“For all the reasons.” Dean corrected him softly.

Cas gave him a smile and tipped his head for another kiss. “I love you, too. For all the reasons.” When Dean leaned into the kiss, Cas sighed and murmured, “I’ll always love you, Dean. Until the day I die.”

When they broke apart a moment later, Dean ducked his head back down against Cas’s chest and asked, barely audible, “hey, Cas?”

“Yes?” Cas replied, back to petting through his hair.

And then, just as quietly; “I think I want you to make love to me.”

Cas’s hand paused in Dean’s hair. He swallowed slightly. The two of them had discussed switching things up between them briefly, once before, and Dean had been reluctant at best. Definitely uncomfortable with the idea. And while it was good that he was opening up his mind, Cas wasn’t entirely sure this was the right… time for it.

After a moment his hand began moving again, threading through Dean’s hair gently, and Cas cleared his throat before asking, “Dean, are you… sure about that?”

“You don’t want to?” Dean asked.

“I never said that.” It was just that Dean was obviously feeling… vulnerable, right now. And Cas didn’t want to take advantage of that, do anything that might break the absolute trust they had long ago established between them. Cas hesitated before offering, “Dean, it’s just… with how you’re feeling right now, I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret later.”

The arm Dean had slung over him tightened slightly and the older man paused, licking his lips and then telling him softly, embarrassedly, “I won’t regret anything with you, Cas. Not ever. I never do. And I think… I need this, right now. I need you to take control. Just for a bit. Get me out of my head.”

That Cas could understand. He knew exactly what it felt like to have every coherent thought vacate his brain while Dean worked him over. It could be a reprieve. An escape, when he was feeling particularly badly over something in his life. And how could he deny that to Dean when Dean had supplied it for him so many times in the past, knowingly or unknowingly?

After another moment of frowning up at the ceiling and toying with Dean’s hair absently, Cas finally moved—he disentangled himself from Dean and pushed the other man down onto his back, then propped himself up to lean over him and look at him seriously. “Are you sure about this?”

Dean offered a little quirk of a smile, though Cas could still see the shadows behind the green of his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Cas hesitated for another brief moment—then just flashed a smile of his own and leaned down to kiss Dean, firm and decided. Dean seemed to let out a little relieved breath against Cas’s mouth before returning the kiss. He reached up with his hands, one to fist in the front of Cas’s shirt and the other to grab at the side of his neck—and Cas just eased closer, kissed him deeper.

Inside, Cas was freaking out. His nerves were making his stomach twist into knots, though he did his best not to let to show for Dean’s sake. But this was a big deal, and Cas had never done this before—not this part, anyway. He only had the basest of ideas what he was doing. It was almost like their first time all over again.

Which… under different circumstances, might have actually been a turn-on, but with Dean’s current state it just made Cas worry because what if he screwed it up? He really didn’t want to screw it up. He wanted to be good at it. But it would be his first time, and…

“I can almost literally see your thoughts, Cas, and you’re gonna do fine.” Dean spoke up, and Cas hadn’t even realized their kissing had paused, he’d been so distracted by his own spiralling train of thought. “But if you don’t want to do this, we obviously don’t have to.”

Cas let out a breath and nodded, then sat back a bit and pushed at Dean’s flannel shirt. “Take this off. The t-shirt, too.” Then he just reached to strip out of his own shirt, tossing it away with hands that were only trembling the slightest bit. When Dean sat up and pulled off his flannel overshirt, then his worn AC/DC t-shirt, Cas was momentarily distracted by a huge patch of dark, mottled bruising that marred almost the entire left side of Dean’s torso. “Dean…”

Dean lifted one hand to touch against the patch of bruising, knowing what he was going to say. “From… the thing in Yakima. I got off easy.”

“Easy?” Cas repeated, almost incredulous. He supposed there was no blood, but still. That was edging into internal injury territory. Instead of saying any of that, Cas swallowed slightly and carefully pushed Dean down onto his back again, settling over him and leaning to kiss him deeply. When they broke apart a moment later, he pressed another brief kiss to Dean’s lips and whispered, “be right back.”

Then Cas climbed off the bed and went to his discarded backpack, unzipping one of the front pouches and fishing out the lubricant he had packed. He knew Dean always brought some as well, but he didn’t know where it was, and this was just easier. Once it was firmly in his grasp, he returned to the bed—only to find that Dean had taken the initiative to get out of his pants and boxers in Cas’s absence.

Cas’s eyes swept up the length of Dean’s body and he swallowed slightly before dropping the lube on the mattress and shucking out of his own jeans and boxers as well. And it was the same feeling as their first time, years ago, when Cas climbed back onto the bed with Dean: suddenly it was all very real.

Now, Cas settled over his boyfriend again, ducking in for another few kisses, long and deep and drawn-out, before breaking away and beginning to trail little kisses, nips and licks down Dean’s neck, along his collar bone, across his chest… and he paused when he got to the mottled bruising along his side and ribs, making a special point of pressing gentle kisses all along the area.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.” He murmured softly.

“You didn’t do it.” Dean replied, just as quiet, “you don’t have to be sorry.”

Cas hummed out a soft disagreeing sound, but left it at that, continuing to make his way downward, paused to lick into Dean’s navel and smiled a little when the other man squirmed. Then he eased farther down until he could wrap his lips around the head of Dean’s half-hard cock and start sucking, softly at first, then deeper, harder and wetter as his boyfriend’s dick hardened up properly in his mouth.

Dean moaned quietly, his head back on the pillow now and one hand down, fingers threading into Cas’s hair. But still—“Cas… not that I’m complaining, but this wasn’t… ah… exactly the point, here…”

“Mmhm,” Cas hummed out an agreement and pulled off Dean’s cock, letting a hand come up to start stroking him instead. He looked up at Dean with a little smile. “But you’re still tense. You need to relax more before I…” Blue eyes flitted to where the lube was sitting, beside them on the bed. “Trust me, you don’t want to be clenched up for that part.” A pause, then, and he added, “and I don’t want to accidentally hurt you, just like you never want to hurt me.”

Dean huffed a groan, hips bucking lightly, and admitted, “that’s a good point.”

Another quiet agreeing sound and Cas just went back to what he was doing, sucking Dean back into his mouth and easing deep, beginning to suck him off lazily, not really trying to get him to come, just trying to get him to relax into it—and it worked. After a few minutes Dean was loose and relaxed against the bed, shifting under his ministrations and offering up quiet, breathy little moans every now and then.

Finally, Cas pulled back off with a soft wet sound and smiled up at him. “You think you’re ready now?”

Dean sighed out another soft moan and tugged at Cas’s hair gently. “Y… yeah, I’m good.”

Okay then. Cas grabbed the tube of lubricant, then nudged at Dean’s legs until he got them into the easiest position to prep him. And yeah, suddenly the nerves were back. Cas shifted slightly and swallowed thickly against the twisting ball of anxiety in his stomach even as he slicked up the fingers of his right hand and then discarded the lube to the side again.

When he hesitated a little too long, then, Dean prodded him gently with simply, “Cas.”

“Right. Sorry. I’ve just never… done this before.”

“Sure, you have.”

“Not from this side of things.” Cas protested softly, but he was already reaching to touch against Dean’s entrance with one finger, just lightly. He looked up quickly for a reaction, but Dean just twitched slightly and didn’t tell him to stop, so he carried on, carefully, slowly pushing his index finger into Dean’s body.

Dean hissed and shifted his hips, obviously uncomfortable but unwilling to admit as much. But Cas knew from personal experience—albeit personal experience in the relatively distant past—that the first time was awkward and weird—at least until the prostate came into play. So, he tried to work through the stretching with the first finger as quickly as possible before gently, carefully introducing the second—and when Dean gave a pained grunt at that, Cas murmured an apology but didn’t stop.

Halfway through stretching Dean with two fingers, when he was pushed as deep as possible for the first time, Cas accidentally bumped into his sweet spot and Dean came alive like a livewire, jolting and crying out loudly. Cas just smiled widely and rubbed his fingers firmly over that spot for a long, drawn-out couple of moments, until Dean was practically begging him to stop.

So, he did, pulling back long enough to add the third finger and going back to fucking Dean on them, though not specifically targeting his prostate now, instead just bumping against it here-and-there while he continued to stretch the other man out.

Soon Dean was reduced to a jerking, twitching mess, gasping out curses every time Cas’s fingers collided with his sweet spot and pulling at the blankets desperately, his cock swollen and throbbing, red and leaking precome against his stomach in sticky blurts. He was absolutely wrecked—and Cas had never seen anything so beautiful before in his life.

Still fucking Dean on his fingers, Cas ducked down to lick up the underside of his cock, then across the head and into the steadily growing puddle of precome… and Dean gave an almost protesting shout at that, shaking his head against the pillow, hips jolting and bucking at the touch: “stop…! Stop, Cas, you’ve gotta… or I’m gonna… fuck…! Oh, fuck, fuck, please…!”

Cas paused, glancing up at Dean, licking his lips absently, and after a moment, finally pulled his fingers out of the older man, then crawled up and settled over him, his own hips pressed against Dean’s firmly. Looking down at him, he swallowed and offered the same deal Dean had offered him the very first time they had had sex: “last chance to back out.”

But Dean quickly shook his head, and Cas flashed a brief smile, ducking to kiss him even as he adjusted them both and took a breath—then carefully, gently, maybe a little awkwardly, pushed his own cock into Dean’s now-pliant body, sinking deep in one slow thrust.

And oh, shit, that was…

They were both still for a long moment, almost holding their breaths, and then there was a collective exhale and Cas leaned to kiss Dean again, partly to distract himself because the feeling of being inside the other man was almost too much. It was hot and tight and slick in all the best ways possible—and he could only imagine how it felt for Dean right then. It was pleasure in a totally different kind of way than he was used to, and if he didn’t distract himself somehow, he was going to ruin this and come way too soon.

But also, he was vaguely worried about Dean, who so far was silent. Did it feel good for him, too? Was he in pain and trying to hide it? Dean could be so stoic sometimes, had been raised to be that way, so God only knew. Eventually Cas broke off from kissing his boyfriend to duck his head and bury his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and groaned out softly, “Dean…?”

“Fucking…” Dean’s reply, when it came, was harsh, his voice strained, with a high little pitch to the edge of his words; “move, Cas. Fucking move, before I explode…!” And it was at that point that Dean released the blankets and brought his arms up around Cas, fingers digging into his back lightly, and rocked his hips just the slightest bit, biting back a gasp at the movement. “Cas!”

Cas began to move. He adjusted himself so he could brace on his knees a little and carefully pulled out of Dean, muffling another groan into his neck, then pushed back in again with another muffled sound—almost a curse. It took a little bit, for him to get the rhythm down, the pace, but eventually he was fucking into Dean deep and hot and slow and perfect—and Dean was arching and writhing under him, head back and moaning loudly, fingers digging hard into his back.

And Cas was pretty sure he had managed to find the right angle—that perfect angle—that made the head of his cock slam into Dean’s sweet spot on every thrust into him, because every time he pushed deep Dean’s cries raised a pitch and his nose scrunched up just a little.

He let his own abdomen rub heatedly against Dean’s weeping cock for the longest time before Cas eased back slightly and slid a hand in between them to grasp at it, beginning to jerk the older man off along with his rhythm. And it was a bit difficult, maybe, coordinating the two things, but he managed it—and Dean arched back with a sharp cry the instant Cas’s hand wrapped around his dick.

It all went downhill very quickly after that. Just a few more breaths of thrusting against Dean’s prostate and jerking him off at the same time and Dean was coming, head back and moaning desperately. Cas stroked him off through it until he was done, then let go and focused on taking a couple more, sharper thrusts—then just pulled out entirely and lifted up on his knees, quickly jerking himself off until he came with a groan, pearly cum spurting all across Dean’s heaving abdomen and chest.

Then he sat back on his heels, panting for a moment, before crawling up to lick up the mess from Dean’s skin, long, hot swipes of his tongue, cleaning up both his own come and Dean’s.

“You didn’t have to… oh, fuck…” Dean had one hand up against his forehead and ran his fingers through his own hair, eyes on the ceiling for the moment, pupils still absolutely blown, as he panted for air; “you could’ve come inside me.”

“Mm,” Cas agreed as he finished tidying up the last of the come from Dean’s skin. He swallowed thickly and licked his lips, then crawled up to tuck into Dean’s side comfortably, “but I didn’t know if you wanted me to… so I figured better safe than sorry. Right?”

After a brief pause, Dean dropped his arm and wrapped it around Cas, holding him close. He licked his own lips and managed, “my legs feel tingly.”

Cas laughed and leaned in to kiss by his jaw gently. “You liked it, then?”

“Did I—” Dean began, then broke off and made an incredulous noise. “Of course I—it felt—fuck, Cas you weren’t kidding about the prostate thing!” A huffed breath and he tilted his head to kiss against Cas’s temple, just warm and affectionate and grateful. “I can’t… imagine… having a better first time at that with anyone else. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Cas murmured softly, then, “I was so worried I was going to screw it up, though. That’s not the kind of thing you want to have a shitty first time with. And I was really afraid I’d mess up and it would be terrible, or I’d hurt you in some way, God forbid, so…”

Dean smiled a little. “So, you didn’t have as good a time as I did, is what I’m hearing.”

“What? No! That’s not—” Cas quickly shook his head, and when Dean began to chuckle, he swatted at him gently. “Shut up. It felt amazing. You felt amazing. But it was very different from what I’m used to. A radically different kind of pleasure, you know? Or, I mean, I guess you really do know.”

“Mmhm,” Came Dean’s reply, sounding a little sleepy now. He settled further into the pillows and his arm around Cas tightened the slightest bit. “It’s very different, being on the other side of things…”

“Think you’ll want to do it again some time?”

“Maybe… maybe if I’m having another day like today, and I just need to get out of my own thoughts. Not that I didn’t love it, I just think… we might fit together better the other way.” Dean shifted, rolling onto his side and pulling Cas into his chest. Cas smiled fondly, understanding the tired look on his face. Between the emotional release and the physical one, it was a lot. “You mind if I just have a nap, real quick?”

Cas shook his head and ducked in for a quick kiss. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“G’night, Cas. Love you.”

“I love you, too, Dean.”

-- --

Cas had been determined to stay awake and watch over Dean while he slept, but in the end their little experiment caught up to him and he fell asleep as well, warm and comfortable wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms. When he woke some time later the blankets were pulled up over him, but Dean was gone—where to, he had no idea. Dean had never been great at the concept of leaving notes.

So, Cas climbed out of bed, cleaned himself up, got dressed, and poked around the motel room until he located some bottles of water in the mini fridge. He made a little victory noise and was just cracking one open when Dean came back in through the door, Starbucks tray in his hand and the faintest hitch in his step. Cas smiled fondly at that last bit.

“Coffee?” Dean offered, crossing over and plucking one of the cups from the tray to hold it out for Cas to take. The younger man happily abandoned the water in lieu of caffeine. Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas was busy opening his coffee and taking the first, blessed sip, but once he was done with that, he let his eyes flit over Dean’s form and asked, “how are you… feeling? Still okay?”

Dean hesitated before giving him a fond look—and then glancing down, almost embarrassed. He was picking at the lid of his own cup of coffee but had yet to open it. “I feel good, Cas, really. I feel…” He trailed off, searching for the right word before looking up again and smiling gently. “Lighter. I guess. It really helped. So, thank you, for… you know.”

“For taking your virginity?” Cas asked around the lip of his cup, tone amused.

A little cough. Dean flushed, just the faintest tint of red, and turned his attention to finally opening his coffee. “Yeah. That.”

If Dean was going to be bashful about the subject, that was fine, Cas decided. Other than the faint embarrassment, he seemed to be alright. He seemed to be feeling better. Said he was, anyway, so maybe he really did just need to get out of his own head for a little bit, and if Cas had managed to provide that for him then… it was good. It was all good.

Cas headed over to the little two-seater couch next to the bed, sat down, took another drink of his coffee and asked, “so, other than the obvious, what did you want to do while we’re in town?”

Dean considered for a moment before wandering over to join him, sitting pressed close against his side, “I know this is my hometown, but I don’t really know much about it. I mean for what things there are to do, that kind of thing. Dad brought us back here a couple of times when we were younger, but he was on business, and we just stayed in the motel the whole time…” And he was talking about all this with ease now, so he must have been feeling better. Cas smiled into his coffee as Dean continued; “so I don’t really know what I’d like to do, except maybe…”

When Dean trailed off, Cas tilted his head curiously. “Except maybe?”

“Maybe… go by the old house? Just to have a look at it. I haven’t been back since the night of the fire.” Dean finished before shrugging and adding, “other than that… I’d be perfectly happy to just stay locked up in here with you until you have to leave. Monday morning?”

“Mm.” Cas hummed an agreement around a mouthful of coffee, then gave him a smile, “my bus leaves at eight.”

“In the morning or night?” Dean asked.

“That’s wishful thinking.” The younger man accused fondly, “of course in the morning.”

Dean sighed and turned his attention to his coffee, taking a couple of drinks before returning to picking at the lid and managing, just softly, “I’m… sorry. For calling you here, like this, last minute. And then being so… blegh, when you got here. That wasn’t fair of me.”

“Dean. Dean, look at me.” Cas waited for Dean to look up again, then shook his head and told the older man firmly, “I will drop everything, any time, if you need me. All you have to do is ask. I would do anything for you, you know that. And if it means getting to spend some time with you in the process, all the better, even if you are being… blegh.” When Dean just blinked at him, Cas hesitated, expression softening, before asking gently, “do you want to really talk about it, now? What happened in Yakima? If you don’t, that’s fine, I’m just offering to listen, that’s all…”

There was clear hesitation from Dean for a long moment before he broke eye contact again and went back to picking at the lid of his coffee cup. “Dad’s been… tracking this demon for a long time. Ever since Mom died.” He began, voice soft, “but you know that, I already told you all about it…”

And he had—years ago, at this point, the entire sordid story about the demon and the fire in Sam’s nursery and his mother dying—about his dad’s single-minded quest to track the thing down and kill it. About how his dad had gone out and taught himself to be a Hunter, driven by revenge alone, at first, and then a kind of twisted sense of justice. The same sense of justice he had tried to instill in his sons—and had basically managed to in Dean.

John Winchester wasn’t a bad man, Cas was sure of that, but he was a broken man, and that could sometimes be worse, more dangerous. He was a hell of a Hunter because of it, though.

“Anyway,” Dean continued after a pause, “we got intel that it was going to be in Washington, doing another nursery thing. So, we high-tailed it up to Yakima to set a trap for it. Dad made Sammy stay back in the motel this time, which, I mean, you know Sammy, he was pissed, and Dad and I went in alone. But the instant the demon showed up, it spotted me and I—”

“You?” Cas encouraged softly.

“I fucking—I froze.” One hand came up to run through his hair and Dean shook his head, expression distant as he thought about that moment. Cas reached to rest a hand against his leg, squeezing gently. “I froze, and by the time I got myself moving again the thing had torn through the entire house. Both the parents were dead. Dad and I were both beaten to shit. The place was on fire, and all I could do was grab the baby and make a break for it.”

“Dean…”

“No, I—I royally fucked up, Cas. I got people killed. I’m lucky Dad didn’t—or that baby? How would I have lived with myself if—” Breaking off again, Dean palmed over his face and sucked in a deep breath. “There were already sirens heading our way, so we left the baby on the front lawn and booked it out of there. As soon as we hit the car, Dad started tearing a strip off me, and—well—it just went downhill from there. And here we are.”

“He literally kicked you out?”

“When we got back to the motel, he made me pack my shit and leave. I don’t—I guess I wait until he calls me. He’ll calm down eventually, he always does, but this time… it was the demon, Cas, and I fucked everything up and…”

“Dean, you can’t put all that on yourself.” Cas told him quietly, still squeezing his leg gently, “you’re human. You know how people say there are two danger responses, fight or flight? Well, there are actually three: fight, flight or freeze. This demon you’ve been Hunting for your whole life is like… the Big Bad, the top of the food chain, right? And have you ever actually come face-to-face with it before?”

Dean shifted slightly. “No. We always get close but miss it by a hair.”

“Okay, so you came up against the Alpha Predator for the first time and your body, your brain, instinctively chose the freeze response.” Cas reasoned, “which, admittedly, isn’t ideal, but think about your whole Hunting career so far, has it ever happened before?”

A short nod. “A few times, when I was younger.”

Cas smiled softly and when Dean turned to look at him properly, he leaned to bump his forehead into the older man’s. “Listen, most people would go up against a—a wendigo or a black dog or—or a ghost and absolutely lose their shit. It’s normal to be scared sometimes, especially in your line of work. You just—you learn from it, and you do better next time, right? It’s terrible that those people died, but you can’t blame yourself for being human, Dean. Even if your Dad apparently does.”

Dean closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads tighter together for a moment before easing back again, returning his gaze to his coffee. “This is why I called you.” He told Cas, “because when I get wound up, you bring me down. And when I get broken down, you build me back up.”

“I try to, anyway.” Cas agreed. “Do you feel better now, even a little bit?”

A huffed sigh and Dean nodded, “yeah. I’ll be okay. Just gotta wait for Dad to call me back in, I guess. For now, I’ll stay here. You sure you can’t just… stay indefinitely?”

Cas laughed at that and returned to his coffee, taking another drink. “I have to take off classes and work for our little vacations together. I don’t think it’d fly if I called the university or the Gas-n-Sip and told them I wasn’t coming back ‘indefinitely’. But especially work, my manager is not an easygoing person. I’m surprised she lets me take these days off in the first place. She really rides me.”

Dean offered a little, but genuine, smile at that and joked, “maybe she has a thing for you.”

Cas paused halfway to another drink of coffee, stared off into the middle-distance for a long moment, then gave a little shudder and shook his head emphatically. “I choose not to think about that possibility.”

“Dude, you’re young, you’re virile, you’re super attractive. That ticks off all the boxes!” Dean gave an actual laugh, “I’m just saying, if you want to sleep your way up the ladder, do it now while you’re in your prime and hot!”

“Dean.” Dean continued snickering to himself while Cas leveled him with a flat look. “Dean, are you telling me to go out and have sex with other people because I was under the impression we were pretty exclusive.”

Dean just grabbed at the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. “We are absolutely exclusive,” He murmured against Cas’s lips, and Cas smiled despite himself, “no one else for me but you.”

“Same.” Cas agreed and kissed him again with a grin.

-- --

They spent the rest of the day in the motel room, just spending time together, doing a lot of cuddling, watching TV, talking about anything and everything, and of course having sex—with Dean on top, the way they usually did it, though when they were done and had caught their breath, they had a surprisingly in-depth conversation about the differences between topping and bottoming. It was only mildly embarrassing at times.

And Dean really did seem to be feeling better about things. He was acting more like himself, though there was still a hint of that shadow behind the green of his eyes—but it was fading more and more the longer Cas was with him. He was laughing and joking again and wasn’t positively despondent anymore. It was good.

That night they ordered burgers for delivery, though Cas gave a token complaint because always with the burgers and Dean promised they could get something else the following night. Dean’s love affair with burgers was nearly as strong as his love affair with pie, and Cas was starting to see why Sam had been so sick of them after years on the road with Dean and his dad. Sometimes Cas thought Dean would happily live on burgers and pie alone.

Well, maybe burgers and pie and Cas.

When they went to bed that night, though, they both climbed in and got under the covers—and Dean arranged them so that he was the one cuddled into Cas’s side, rather than the other way around. Cas just hummed out a soft, affectionate sound and wrapped his arms around the older man, even as Dean reached over his shoulder to turn off the lamp. If Dean needed that little bit of extra comfort, still, Cas wasn’t going to deny it to him.

The night passed uneventfully, and the next morning Cas woke up with Dean spooned against his back, one arm slung over his waist. They had shifted back to normal overnight. Cas sighed softly and pressed himself back against Dean, enjoying the rise and fall of his chest, his warm breath against the back of his neck. Cas stayed like that, just enjoying the moment, the closeness, for a while, until he finally had to carefully extract himself and head through to the bathroom.

By the time he was finished in there and came back out, Dean was sitting up on the side of the bed, yawning hugely and rubbing at his hair. Cas wandered over to leaned down to press a kiss against the crown of his head, lips quirking into a smile when Dean hummed a pleased noise in response. “Good morning.”

“…is it morning? What time…?” Dean muttered around another yawn.

Cas glanced at the clock. “Almost noon but technically still morning.” He informed his boyfriend, even as he lowered himself to sit beside Dean on the edge of the bed. “Do you still want to go to the house today?”

“Ask me again after coffee.” Dean told him, ducking in to kiss by Cas’s jaw. “Shower, clothes, coffee, food. Then we talk about plants for the day.”

A chuckle and Cas just stood again, then reached to take hold of Dean’s hand and tugged him up off the bed, turning to head for the bathroom once more. Certainly, the two of them always took longer when they showered together, but hey, maybe this time they would be able to keep their hands to themselves. Cas seriously doubted it, but stranger things had happened, right?

“This is gonna be one of those forty-five-minute showers, isn’t it?” Dean asked with a little smirk.

“Not necessarily.” Cas replied with a shrug.

Nearly forty minutes later they had run out of hot water but were both extremely satisfied with how the morning was going so far. They climbed out of the chilly shower pleased, relaxed, and sporting goosebumps from the last minute or two of cleaning up. They both dried off quickly, then hurried through to the main room where they pulled on their clothes and finally started to warm up again. Cas made a mental note not to draw out the blowjob quite so long next time, considering the constraints of the water heater. Dean was privately making a similar promise, while simultaneously making a completely contradictory vow to take the lube with them next time so they could have real shower sex.

Being clean, dry and dressed, next came the acquisition of food and coffee. For that they went to a diner down the street (apparently it had been recommended to Dean when he checked in) where they took over a booth along the back wall and were very swiftly served up with two mugs of pretty decent coffee. Dean started drinking right away, but Cas of course doctored his with cream and sugar before taking his first sip.

It turned out to be an all-day-breakfast kind of joint, and Dean ordered the whole shebang: pancakes, eggs, hashbrowns, sausage, bacon and toast. Also, another cup of coffee. Cas was amazed, once again, that he could put away so much food all at once. As for himself, he ordered an omelette with a side of toast—a reasonable breakfast. Dean practically booed him. Cas just laughed.

The coffee was decent but the food, when it arrived, was excellent. They both ate with enthusiasm—Dean more so than Cas, as usual—and Cas actually called the waitress back over to somewhat sheepishly order a side of bacon when he saw how good Dean’s looked. He would have just stolen a piece from his boyfriend, but he rather liked his fingers intact, as a point of fact.

When they were finished eating—and Dean finished every last bite of his positively enormous meal, thank you very much—Dean paid the tab and left a hefty tip, and the two of them made their exit back out the door.

They walked together, after that, just side by side down the streets and roads of Lawrence, sometimes in silence and sometimes talking quietly between themselves about anything—everything. It was always like that between them, warm and easy. Or, at least, almost always. They did have their occasional difficult moments, of course.

When they turned a corner and Dean suddenly grabbed for his hand, Cas knew they were on the same street that his childhood house stood on. He just threaded their fingers together and squeezed gently, reassuring, and even though his steps faltered slightly, Dean kept on walking.

Dean tugged him to a stop when they got to the right house and both of them turned to face it. Dean’s hand tightened in Cas’s, and he took a slightly shaky breath. “I haven’t been back here since… you know. That night. Whenever Dad brought us into Lawrence, he made us stay in the motel.”

Cas looked at the house in front of them and thought it seemed totally ordinary. It was nice, the way it was now. Rebuilt after the fire. “You told me once you carried Sam out of the house that night, do you remember anything else?”

“Just… Dad yelling, and the fire.” Dean told him solemnly, “the flames were so damned hot. I wasn’t even really close to them, and I could still feel them. Fire burns so bright, and so hot. That’s why I told you, way back when… I don’t have nightmares all the time like you do, but when I do have them, they’re usually of fire. I can’t seem to get it out of my head.”

Cas just took a little step over to be closer against Dean’s side and squeezed his hand again. “I’m sorry.”

Dean just hummed dismissively, eyes still on the house. His childhood memories were vague, he’d been very young when he’d lived there, but he could tell it was different, in subtle ways. The size of the front windows. The color of the front door. The fabric of the curtains inside the living room. The cutting back of the tree in the front yard. Just little things that kind of skewed his memory, blurred it even more in a way.

And then it started raining.

Cas and Dean both looked up at the sky almost blankly because they still had to walk all the way back to the motel, damnit.

But then another voice piped up from beside Dean with, “I just knew I was going to need this today!”

Both men’s heads swivelled. A pleasant looking African American woman was standing next to them, holding an umbrella over her head—and holding another umbrella out in their direction with a friendly smile.

“Uh.” Cas said articulately, even as Dean just reached out to take the offered umbrella—black with little silver stars—almost on autopilot, a suspicious look on his face the entire time. The woman watched him open it up and hold it over them (but mostly over Cas), looking pleased. Cas glanced up at the umbrella over him and then back at the woman. “Thanks.”

“Oooh, honey,” She drawled as she looked at Cas, her eyes narrowing into a squint, “you do shine brightly, don’t you?”

“I—” Cas began.

But Dean interrupted with, “I’m sorry, do we know you?”

“Don’t be rude, Dean Winchester.” She gave him a little verbal slap and then returned her attention to Cas, even as she continued to address Dean; “but no, you don’t know me. Not yet anyway. I know your father, though. He and I go way back. You can call me Missouri.”

Dean’s mouth opened and closed a few times and then he managed to ask, “you know my Dad?”

“I do indeed.” Missouri agreed, then turned to face the house with a little smile. “I keep an eye on this place for him, look in on it from time to time. Today I just knew I had to stop by, and now I see why.” She glanced at them again, then smacked a hand into Dean’s arm and added, “Dean, introduce me to your boyfriend, already.”

Dean jumped slightly and looked sideways at Cas, then back at Missouri. “Uh… this is Cas.”

Cas leaned around Dean to wave his free hand slightly. “Hello.”

“Cas… Castiel.” Missouri said his whole name without even having been told it, and squinted slightly again before blinking as if she were coming to a sudden realization. Her eyes flickered up to the space above Cas’s head just briefly, then she flashed another smile. “Oh, dear, I must remember not to look too deeply with you, musn’t I?” Then she addressed Dean again with, “you’ve got a good one, here, boy. Hold onto him as long as you can.”

“I plan to.” Dean informed her, still obviously uncomfortable with the conversation.

Cas just looked up above his own head, but all he saw was empty air and the umbrella. Missouri gave him an almost fond look. “You absolute dear, you don’t even know, do you?”

“Know what?” Cas asked.

Dean looked at her with curiosity that bordered on suspicion.

But Missouri just shook her head and turned her attention back to the house. “Never you mind, boys. It’s nothing important. You go on your way, now. There’s nothing here but ghosts and memories. And you take care of each other, you hear me? Have faith. It’ll be important.”

Then she turned around and disappeared down the street, leaving them to stare after her, the rain still pouring all around them. She didn’t even take back her umbrella.

“She was a psychic, right?” Cas asked after a moment.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean responded with a shake of his head. He still didn’t particularly trust most “psychics” and doubted that he ever would. Missouri had felt… different, though. “I’m pretty sure she was a psychic.”

-- --

The meandering walk back to the motel was a lot soggier than the walk to the house had been originally, but they did have the umbrella Missouri had left them with, so they just squeezed together to fit under it, and it kept them relatively dry. Relatively being the key word. When they walked in the door of their motel room they still immediately set to getting changed into dry clothes.

“I guess we co-own an umbrella now,�� Dean commented once they were changed. He turned on the clock radio for some music and came up behind Cas, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s waist. “What should we name it?”

Cas laughed and leaned back into him—but when Dean nuzzled into his neck, he flapped his hands and reached up to push him away, laughing, “off. You’re way too stubbly for that right now. You need to shave.”

Dean grinned and rubbed his jaw along Cas’s cheek anyway. “Are you gonna say no sex until I shave? Is that where this is going?”

“Basically,” Cas laughed again and squirmed around in Dean’s arms so he could plant his hands against the older man’s chest and push him back. Then he pointed toward the bathroom. “Go.”

Chortling to himself, Dean held his hands up in a placating manner and backed away a couple of steps, then moved closer again to duck in for a quick kiss before crossing the room and digging through his duffle bag for his shaving kit. Once he had it in hand, he headed for the bathroom, leaving Cas to entertain himself while he shaved.

“You know,” Dean called out from the bathroom a minute later as he worked on getting the shaving cream lathered up and applied, “when I was first learning how to shave, my Dad taught me three ways: regular razor, straight razor, and hunting knife.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Cas wandered over to stand in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe and watching Dean work with a little smile on his face. This wasn’t the first time he’d watched Dean shave, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“It’s funny,” Dean glanced at him in the mirror briefly before picking up his razor and getting to work, “in all the time we’ve been together I’ve only seen you shave a couple of times.”

“Mine doesn’t grow in as fast as yours.” Cas shrugged, “and I get right on it as soon as it gets past where it is now, it gets really scruffy and scraggly. Not very good looking.”

“C’mon, I’m sure you could work it.” The older man teased.

Cas just rolled his eyes and, when Dean was finished, stepped over to pick up the towel. “Look at me.” And when Dean turned to face him, Cas quickly wiped up the last bits of shaving cream with a smile, then reached to run a hand down one of Dean’s cheeks. “Much better.”

Dean tipped his head to kiss against Cas’s palm before turning back around and setting about actually washing the shaving cream residue off his face, then drying himself off with a clean towel and rinsing his razor clean. He tucked everything back into his shaving kit even as Cas tossed the dirty towel over the side of the sink and headed back out into the main room.

The clock radio was still playing, the same classic rock station Dean had picked out earlier, and Cas made his way over to grab a bottle of water out of the mini fridge before leaning back against the counter and opening it, taking a sip. When Dean emerged from the bathroom, fresh shaven but somehow still sporting a little bit of stubble, Cas gave him a fond look.

Coming across to where Cas was standing, Dean stopped in front of him and leaned his hands on the counter on either side of the younger man—then leaned in for a kiss. Cas smiled and kissed back with a pleased hum. “Mmm, you smell nice.”

“It’s just the shaving cream, nothing special.” Dean murmured against Cas’s lips and went in for another kiss—then paused when the song on the radio ended and a new one started. Cas barely noticed, but Dean shifted back a little and took the bottle of water from his grasp, setting it on the counter. He took one of Cas’s hands and tugged him toward the center of the room. “C’mere…”

Cas looked at him, tilting his head curiously. “Dean?”

“Listen. Do you know this song at all?” Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist and Cas automatically lifted his own to slide over Dean’s shoulders and around his neck. Dean smiled softly and leaned their foreheads together lightly, then began roughly singing along with the music: “don’t tell me it’s not worth tryin’ for. You know it’s true. Everything I do, I do it for you… for you…”

When Cas felt himself being rocked back and forth on his feet, just slightly, he suddenly realized what was going on. “Dean, are we dancing right now?” He asked quietly, incredulous. He actually had to take a second because this was probably the last thing he would ever have expected from his boyfriend.

“Just shut up and move your feet.” Dean instructed. “Have you danced with someone before?”

“I—yeah, once, in sixth grade. The teacher made the girl dance with me, and it was obvious. It was humiliating.” Cas muttered, looking down at his own feet, trying to get them to move in some sort of proper order. He was kind of just shuffling instead. He frowned at his own incompetence. “Dean, I—I don’t know how to—”

“Relax. Breathe.” Dean murmured with a smile, “you obviously weren’t thrilled with dancing with that girl, but this is me. You know I won’t care if you’re awkward. That girl in elementary school didn’t count, okay? And I’m not her. I want to dance with you.” He tightened his arms around Cas just slightly before adding, “all you have to do is kind of… step back and forth in time with the music. Just move with me.”

“Usually when you say that we’re about to have sex.” Cas complained, but licked his lips absently and carefully eased his steps into a relatively decent rhythm with Dean’s. The song continued to play, and from what he was hearing it was nice. Finally, Cas hesitated before leaning his head down on Dean’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d like a song like this.” He admitted.

“Mmm…” The older man hummed out a pleased sound when Cas’s head came down on his shoulder, and he continued the slow dance they were sharing, closing his eyes to listen to the music and feel Cas in his arms. “Power ballads are okay occasionally and Bryan Adams is allowed sometimes. Everything I Do is iconic, and the lyrics…” Trailing off a little, he sighed softly and finished; “they make me think of you. Of us.”

“Did you pick a song for us without even consulting me?” Cas joked softly.

Dean laughed, just a quiet rumble from his chest. “Maybe.”

Cas didn’t really mind. It was a nice song and from the few lyrics he had managed to pick up on, Dean was probably right. It fit them. Cas privately thought he would look up the song online later. “I’m not even mad.” He admitted, “I just never thought about us having a song, that’s all.”

Dean didn’t reply to that, just falling silent as they continued to dance in a slow circle in the middle of the room. Cas finally closed his own eyes and, while keeping one arm wrapped around Dean’s neck, brought the other hand down to rest against his chest, feeling out his boyfriend’s heartbeat as the music continued.

It was… pleasant, once he relaxed into it. Warm and affectionate, a new kind of intimacy. A little smile tugged at Cas’s lips, and he pressed a gentle kiss against the side of Dean’s neck, making Dean hum out another happy noise. This was nothing like the awkward dance he had been forced to share with that unhappy girl back in sixth grade. This was… love, encompassed by a single action. He almost wished it wouldn’t end.

Unfortunately, the song was only about six minutes long and was followed by a much harsher, jarring one. Dean gently slowed them to a stop but kept his arms around Cas—and tilted his head to kiss by the younger man’s temple. “Do you know how much I love you?” He asked, then answered his own question with, “because it’s more than life itself.”

Cas moved his hand from Dean’s chest and wrapped his arm back around his neck with a sigh. After a moment he lifted his head up and leaned in to kiss Dean gently. “You know I love you, too, Dean. More than anything.”

Another kiss, and then he shifted back to take hold of one of Dean’s hands and tug the other man over to climb into the bed, reaching to turn the radio off on the way past. Once they were both settled down on the mattress, Cas tucked neatly into Dean’s side and Dean’s arm around his waist, Cas returned his head to Dean’s shoulder and let one hand come up to play with Dean’s pendant almost absently.

They were both feeling relaxed, loved and closer than ever in the little bubble they had temporarily established for themselves.

“So how was your first dance?” Dean asked after a few minutes of companionable silence, “since that shitty one in grade school didn’t count.”

A smile tugged at Cas’s lips, and he buried his face in Dean’s shoulder, pressing a kiss there, then replied, muffled by Dean’s shirt, “it was really nice. Thank you.” Then he turned his head to rest on Dean’s shoulder properly again and wondered, “where did you learn to dance?”

“TV, mostly.” Dean admitted with a grin. “I never really went to school dances; they weren’t my kind of thing.”

“You would have been popular at them, though. You are unreasonably attractive.”

“I think you’re biased.”

“I think you’re trying to be humble, but don’t. Because you are. Unreasonably attractive, I mean.”

“Hate to break it to you, Cas, but so are you.”

“I’m what now?” Cas laughed and swatted at Dean lightly. “Don’t even joke.”

Dean just smiled up at the ceiling. “I’m not. You’re freaking hot. You are not the one who got lucky in this relationship, I am.”

Cas was quiet for a minute, then lifted his head to look down at Dean properly. “You… actually mean that, don’t you?”

Even after years of being in a relationship with Dean, Cas had trouble thinking of them as equals. He still saw himself as awkward and weird, no matter what Dean tried to tell him. He secretly thought Dean was kind of slumming it with him, if he was honest, even though he’d been told time and again that he was beautiful, amazing, something precious to be treasured.

Now, Dean sighed and let one hand come up to thread his fingers into Cas’s hair gently, then tugged him down for a kiss, long and lingering. When they parted, he just asked softly, “why don’t you ever believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just…” Cas leaned into the hand in his hair and closed his eyes with a soft little sound. He had never had the best self esteem, and while being with Dean had certainly helped with that, helped build him up, it hadn’t cured it entirely. “I just don’t see myself like you see me, I guess. That’s all.”

“Cas,” Dean tugged at his hair lightly to get him to look at him, and when blue eyes opened again and flitted to meet Dean’s, the older man gave him a little smile. “I am not the reason people look at us when we go out together. It’s gorgeous, gorgeous you they’re looking at.”

“To be fair I think they’re probably looking at you, too.” Cas managed after a moment.

“So, they’re looking at both of us. But at least half of that is because of you.” His tone was sincere, and Dean continued stroking through Cas’s hair reassuringly. “You have… amazing bone structure. And downright gorgeous eyes. A beautiful smile. Your skin is perfect. And your hair is so, so soft and touchable. It looks soft and touchable, too.” There he paused before grinning and asking, “do I need to start talking about your body?”

Cas flushed red slightly and shook his head. “No, I, ah… get the idea.”

Dean tugged him down for a kiss. “So, just accept the fact that you are a freaking phenomenally beautiful person and lets’ move on.”

“Move on to what?”

“Well,” Dean grinned up at him, “you said no sex until I shaved. And I shaved.”

Cas blinked down at him—and then began to laugh softly. He leaned down to kiss Dean again. “Don’t look so excited, it would make saying no like kicking a puppy.”

“Don’t be that guy, Cas. Don’t kick the puppy.”

Another snort of laughter, but Cas shifted around, sitting up properly and swinging one leg over Dean to settle straddling the older man’s hips. He braced his hands against Dean’s abdomen, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt a little and leaned down for another kiss. After a moment he murmured against Dean’s lips; “I would never kick a freshly shaven puppy.”

Dean laughed, head falling back and entire body shaking with it, and this time it was Cas’s turn to grin. Actually grin—hugely. Then he eased his hands under the edge of Dean’s shirt and pushed it upward. “No, no, come on, no laughing right now, be serious, we’re going to do this. Take this off.”

Dean just kept chortling, but leaned up to pull his t-shirt off, discarding it to the side. Cas continued to smile widely and ran his hands up from Dean’s abdomen to his chest, feeling out his warm skin and muscle. He sighed deeply, eyes going half-lidded and licking his lips. “And you think I’m the beautiful one? You’re a freaking adonis. I thank whatever fates aligned to put us together every day. I am so grateful that I get to be with you…”

“Cas…” Dean reached up to grasp at the side of Cas’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss, hard and deep, and when he eased back it was only by an inch to murmur, “take your clothes off.”

He didn’t believe in fate—not the way Cas did. He didn’t think things were pre-written for them, for anyone, he believed they made their own way in life. What he did believe in was this—what he had with Cas, what had grown between them in what seemed like an instant, so long ago, and continued to this day. He put his faith in Cas, in their relationship—in their love—and he didn’t think he would ever look back from that.

He definitely didn’t want to, at the very least.

Now, Dean watched Cas straighten back up and pull his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side—and then the two of them were kissing again, hot and wanting. And it was probably unfair of him, to keep Cas all to himself, to hoard him like gold, but he couldn’t help it, not when they came together so perfectly, fit like puzzle pieces, were so obviously made for each other.

After a moment, Cas broke off, giving Dean one more, brief kiss, to start trailing kisses downward, along his neck and over his chest, against the ridges of his abdomen to nip just under Dean’s navel, making him twitch, and shuffling himself down in the process. When he’d gotten as far as he could go, he sat back up and worked open the button and zip of Dean’s pants, then lifted up onto his knees to tug them down a little, just enough to free the older man’s flagging cock.

Then a soft hum and Cas eased to the side on the bed and ducked down to suck Dean’s cock into his mouth, loving the feel of him hardening up the rest of the way against his tongue. He sighed and closed his eyes, beginning to bob his head slowly, an easy, casual blowjob that Dean normally would have enjoyed immensely, however—

This time, after a few moments of his breath becoming heavier and heavier, Dean reached down with one hand to thread his fingers into Cas’s hair and gently tugged him up and off his cock. Cas came willingly, licking his lips as he looked up at him and made a quiet questioning noise.

“I want you, not just your mouth.” Dean explained with a sigh.

Cas smiled at that and crawled up to give him a proper kiss again, his tongue tasting of salty precome. “So, take your pants off, then.” And then he proceeded to ease away and take his own advice, climbing off the bed long enough to get out of his jeans and boxers—and also to grab the lube from the bedside table while he was at it.

Dean just focused on getting himself the rest of the way out of his own jeans, kicking them away, followed by his boxers, before reaching one hand out for Cas, who took it and climbed back onto the bed with him—then stumbled slightly and half-fell on top of him. Cas muttered a quiet apology, but Dean just laughed and pulled him into another kiss, even as Cas slid into his lap, straddling his hips again, and pushed the lube into his hand.

Swallowing slightly, Cas adjusted himself while Dean opened the tube of lubricant and squirted some out, slicking up his fingers before capping it again and dropping it off to the side. Then he reached around Cas’s side and down to start easing his fingers into the younger man, who just buried his face in Dean’s neck in an attempt to muffle himself a little bit.

The first finger hardly felt like anything anymore, and Cas took a couple of deep breaths while Dean worked it into him, in and out gently, before offering softly, “I’ve… tried this on myself before, you know. A couple times.”

Dean actually paused at that, and even though Cas wasn’t looking at him, he could see the kind of blankly surprised look on his face. “I’m sorry, you what?”

“Keep going.” Cas urged, shifting his hips, and Dean finally started moving his hand again, carefully introducing the second finger—and smiling a little when that made Cas gasp. “I—ah—sometimes I miss this so much, especially when we’re… a-ah… apart for a long time, and I just… a couple of times I’ve gotten desperate and—”

Dean shoved his fingers deep at that point, right up against his sweet spot, and Cas broke off to muffle a cry against the other man’s skin. Dean rubbed the pads of his fingers over Cas’s prostate for a long moment before easing off and going back to stretching him out. “Christ, Cas… I would pay to see you do that.”

Cas just shook his head, hips pushing down against Dean’s hand as he gently pushed the third finger in, a stinging burn as he stretched out farther. “S’not the same.” He panted, hands grabbing at Dean’s shoulder, kneading there restlessly, “can’t reach as deep, doesn’t feel as—a-ah!—good…! A poor, mmh, poor substitute at best…”

“Still sounds hot.” Dean told him, and Cas could hear him grin, even as he was easing his fingers out and sliding his slick hand down Cas’s thigh. “Your turn now, Cas…”

Nodding against his neck, Cas pushed himself up, licking his lips absently, and shuffled around until he was in the right position, then reached down to grip Dean’s cock and hold it steady as he slowly sank down over it, plunging deep and taking the other man into himself in one smooth motion. His back arched and his head fell back slightly, a sharp cry in his throat. Cas bit his lip to muffle it, then gasped out, “oh, God, Dean… yes…!”

“Not that I ever thought you were,” Dean told him around a barely-swallowed moan, his own head back and his breath coming faster, his hands moving restlessly as he tried to resist the urge to thrust up into Cas’s perfect, silky heat, to give him a minute to adjust, “but you are not the gawky, awkward high school kid you thought you were anymore, Cas…!”

Cas could only whine softly at the compliment, licking his lips as he began shifting his hips just slightly, so completely stuffed full he couldn’t even put it into words—had never been able to. Somehow there was comfort in the fact that Dean knew how it felt now, too, though.

“You’re amazing,” Dean continued on, hands sliding up Cas’s thighs and in toward his abdomen to feel the younger man’s stilted breath, then farther up to his chest; “you’re funny, you’re smart, you’re loving, you’re loyal, you’re incredible…” he trailed one hand, drifting up to tangle his fingers in Cas’s hair, tugging to get him to look at him, “you’re fucking hot.” He finished with a grin, then; “and the best part is you’re mine.”

“I… I like being yours…” Cas managed to gasp out, a touch embarrassed, followed by; “Dean, c-can we please… have this conversation… when you’re not… inside me…?”

But Dean just shook his head, “you don’t listen when I’m not—ah—inside you.” And then; “Cas, move…!”

A brief nod and Cas licked his lips before beginning to rock himself over his boyfriend, just slow, careful little rolls of his hips that moved Dean only the slightest bit in his body but gave them both some of the friction they were craving. Cas’s hands were down, kneading against Dean’s abdomen—and Dean had one hand tangled in Cas’s hair, the other grasping at his chest, thumb rubbing over a pert nipple before sliding back down to hold at his hip tightly.

Dean was hard as a rock inside him, and Cas was almost painfully hard himself, but he still drew things out, continuing his little, almost gentle rocks of his hips for a while until Dean grew frustrated and bucked up against him—at which point Cas gave a breathless laugh and accused, “impatient…!”

“Just because I want you…” Dean grumbled, but settled himself again, just pulling at Cas’s hair and tugging him down for a kiss.

The new position, leaning over Dean like that, made the older man’s cock grind right up against his prostate, and Cas gasped out an almost startled moan against Dean’s mouth. “Oh, God!” Then he shook his head, pressed one more kiss to Dean’s lips, and straightened again with a groan, going right back to what he had been doing.

When Dean swore under his breath and dragged the hand in Cas’s hair down to his hip, Cas swallowed thickly and managed, “just… just let me make love to you, Dean. Let me have this… slow and deep and not just—ah—screwing... let me feel you…”

And suddenly Dean understood. He watched Cas continued to move over him, now just the slightest bit harder, blue eyes closed—and abruptly grabbed at the younger man, pulling him down and kissing him hard, then tumbling them over so he was the one on top. Cas went down with a startled yelp but didn’t complain when Dean settled between his legs and his cock slid into him again, deep and firm and full.

Cas took a minute to catch his breath, then wrapped his arms around Dean and gave him a vaguely surprised look. “Wh…?”

His boyfriend smiled and ducked down for a kiss, bracing himself on one forearm and sliding his other hand down to nudge at one of Cas’s legs. “You wanted to make love, so we’re going to make love.” He told him softly. “Unless you were really set on being on top.”

Cas shook his head and when Dean leaned their foreheads together, he sighed deeply and smiled fondly, then just lifted his legs up to wrap them around Dean’s hips, ankles crossed just below the small of his back, and murmured, “make love me to me, Dean.”

This time it was Dean who started moving his hips, just shallowly and gently at first, carefully working his way up to deeper, more forceful thrusts—but nothing ever got hard. Nothing ever got rough. Cas arched and panted and moaned into it, head back and eyes closed until Dean drew him into another kiss, pressed their heads together so they could look into each other’s eyes as he continued to move.

Staring into Dean’s eyes when they made love just… laid Cas’s soul completely bare, opened up everything he was, he thought, left him nowhere to hide. The first time it had happened it had been a revelation. Now it was just reaffirmation of their love. Of the trust that existed between them. He saw many things in Dean’s eyes, too; beautiful things that he would never forget. Entire universes.

When Dean finally had to break eye contact and duck to bury his face in Cas’s neck, Cas slid one hand up to thread his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair gently and began rolling his own hips to meet Dean’s thrusts, slow, deep and hot.

And this was exactly what he’d wanted. Why hadn’t he just started out like this to begin with? Then again, they had made love with Cas on top before, so there was no reason to think that it wouldn’t work out. This was better, this time, though… so much better.

Dean shifted slightly, bracing his knees to push his cock deeper into Cas’s body and Cas was left to arch into it with a gasp, his own head falling back against the pillows, hair mussing there, eyes closed again as he panted for air, the hand in Dean’s hair twisting and tugging at the soft strands along with their movements. His other hand, meanwhile, was holding against Dean’s back, by his shoulder, fingers digging in sharply. He had been known to leave marks in the past—and Dean was usually pleased when he did.

Now Cas tightened his legs around Dean, spurring Dean on to increase his pace, moving faster and a little harder but with just as much feeling behind it, fucking into Cas until both of them could do nothing but pant and moan loudly, Dean beginning to trail messy kisses along Cas’s neck and shoulder and Cas eventually dragging his nails down Dean’s back, leaving sharp pink tracks in their wake, to let his hand come to rest at the small of the older man’s back.

Hissing softly at the scratches, Dean gave a breathless chuckle and accused, “tease.”

“Not… teasing…” Cas panted out, loving the feeling of Dean moving inside him—of his muscles shifting and bunching under his palm. “Just feels… oh, God… so damn good…!”

Dean grunted out an agreement and just ducked his head against Cas’s shoulder again, burying his face as he began to move faster, harder, working them up to the edge, finally. Cas threw his head back, panting out a cry as Dean worked him over—and it always ended up this way. The last few minutes were almost always fierce despite their initial intentions—but definitely not in a bad way.

Now Dean just fucked into Cas hard and deep, aiming to purposefully jam against his sweet spot as much as possible, and Cas wailed, clinging to Dean for all he was worth, frantically trying to work his own hips to keep up with the other man. He didn’t last for much longer, his orgasm crashing over him only a few moments later, leaving Cas to gasp out another sharp cry and arch against Dean, coming hard between them.

Dean was next, taking a few more, hard thrusts that made Cas whimper before coming deep inside Cas—and there was something deeply satisfying about that every single time. Dean was still for a long minute before collapsing on top of Cas, panting against his shoulder with a grin. “…awesome.”

“So… so you keep saying.” Cas gave a breathless laugh, head back and eyes closed, and smoothed his hand up Dean’s back, fingers trailing along the new scratches lightly, making Dean hiss in a breath again. “Sorry about the, ah… scratches.”

“Mmm… don’t be… you know I like it when you do that.” Dean hummed and nuzzled into Cas’s neck warmly. “I love you, Cas.”

Cas’s lips quirked into a little fond smile, and he opened his eyes, lifting his head from the pillows to glance down at Dean. “I love you, too.”

After a couple minutes of catching their breath, Cas kicked Dean off of him and they cuddled up together, sweaty and sticky and otherwise dirty, definitely in need of a shower. But later. For now, they were just enjoying the afterglow. It was always nice when they got to do that.

That night, after they got cleaned up, they went back to the diner for dinner. Dean ordered a burger and Cas got pasta, and it was just as good as breakfast had been. Cas watched Dean eat quietly, privately pleased that the other man seemed good again, after the day before, and visiting his childhood house earlier. He had been worried about that; about the effect it would have on Dean. But Dean seemed perfectly happy with his burger and fries and just spending time with Cas like regular people, the beginning of their weekend now just a memory.

When they finished eating, they went back to the motel again—and spent the rest of the weekend, until Cas had to leave on Monday, locked up in the room together, just reassuring each other that everything was alright. Would always be alright. With them, anyway.

On Monday morning Cas woke up early. He always woke up early on the days he was leaving from their weekend meetups, like his body was trying to remind him that he only had so much time left. He rolled over in bed and tucked himself into Dean’s side, and Dean curled around him, wrapping him up in his arms, protective, somehow, even in his sleep. It made Cas smile to himself in the darkness of the room.

When Dean woke up some time later, when the sun was finally starting to properly rise, Cas was caught watching him sleep and could only give a sheepish smile. “Hey… good morning.”

Dean stretched and settled on his back with an arm around Cas and an amused smile on his face, “am I really that interesting?”

“You are.” Cas slid one arm over Dean’s chest and leaned his head down on his shoulder. “To me, anyway.” He hesitated before saying just softly, “I have to leave today, Dean.”

Dean’s smile faded at that. “I know. I hate these days.”

“Me too.” Cas agreed, tightening his arm over Dean. “This sucks.”

“It always sucks, Cas.”

“I know, but…” Cas adjusted his hold on Dean, bringing one hand up to trace his fingers against his chest absently. “I just think it would be nice, sometimes. If we could be together all the time.” Then he added quickly, “I know we can’t! You can’t quit Hunting and I can’t exactly go on the road with you, your Dad would commit murder… but I mean…”

“I hear you.” Dean chuckled, “there’s times when a normal, run-of-the-mill life with you sounds really good. But with the way things are… it’s just not possible. So, we’ve gotta just make the best of it, right? These weekends aren’t so bad. They’re like our own private little world, but all over the place. Like we own the whole country.”

“Sort of.” Cas admitted with a little smile. That was a nice way of looking at it. He lifted his head and leaned up to give Dean a soft kiss. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up.”

“A sad Castiel is no good.” Dean said against his lips with a smile of his own, “so hey, what do you want to do this morning, before we have to go to the bus station?”

They ended up taking a shower together and making love under the running water, and even managed to avoid running out of hot water in the process. Then they went back to the diner down the street for breakfast, where Dean once again stuffed himself silly and Cas watched him with an amused smile the entire time.

By the time they finished eating and got back to the motel, Cas had to pack up his things so they could head for the bus station, and he did so with marked reluctance. Once everything was packed and ready to go, Dean pulled Cas into his arms and held him close for a long, few minutes until they simply couldn’t put it off any longer, at which point they left the motel again and headed downtown.

Goodbyes at the bus station were long and lingering and sad on both sides, but particularly for Cas. These partings were always hard on him—or, at least, he showed it more easily than Dean did, anyway. They stood together at the bus terminal, waiting for his boarding call, facing each other, foreheads pressed together and holding hands, Cas’s backpack at their feet, and completely ignoring anyone and everyone around them—until it was time for Cas to leave.

Cas’s automatic response was to grip tighter to Dean’s hands, but Dean gently eased away, murmuring a soft apology—and that he loved him. Cas just wanted to cry. He always wanted to cry in these moments. But eventually, after another boarding call, Cas had to release his grip on Dean and pick up his backpack to board the bus.

The last thing Dean did before Cas climbed onto the bus was lean in for one last kiss and whisper softly into his ear, “everything I do, I do it for you.”

Cas carried that with him all the way home.

Look into your heart you will find There's nothin' there to hide Take me as I am, take my life I would give it all, I would sacrifice Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for I can't help it, there's nothin' I want more You know it's true Everything I do, I do it for you, yeah -“(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” by Bryan Adams

THE END

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #destiel #destiel fanfiction #spn #spn fic #shut up sena #sena writes #everything i do by senashenta

9 notes · View notes

the-words-we-sung · 10 months ago

Text

The songs of Young Royals - S1E5

Let's go for this 4th installation of the song analysis serie ^^ We're tackling episode 5 this time!! For people who missed them, here are part 1, part 2 and part 3 Sunday, Gina Dirawi

Got what I need I just want peace Catch you on a Sunday When you got the weekend off If I wait til Monday I will never get it

A song that works well for both Wilhelm and Sara: they are spending an evening with people they care deeply about and want to be with. Sara is having her sleepover with Felice and Madison while Wilhelm is spending the evening with Simon. It sounds like a perfect evening for the both of them, they "get what they need": for Sara it's some time with friends and for Wilhelm a moment far from the preying eyes of his peers to just be with the boy he loves. And he does want "peace", he wants a normal life, a normal relationship with Simon. And it's a special moment, a Saturday evening, a break from school and the usual complications that go with it. It makes me sad because it's gonna be the last moment of true peace for Wilhelm and Simon for quite some time after that. The lyrics "if I wait til Monday I will never get it" ring very true: the whole mess with Alexander's suspension and their fight about the drugs is gonna fall on them as soon as they leave Simon's home to get back to school. So it's good that they didn't wait for this little date. So they could at least have this nice evening.

Impatient, Duchvi

'Cause I never felt I needed somebody The way I feel impatient-impatient-impatient for you, oh 'Cause I'm feeling like I'm needing your body Making me impatient-impatient-impatient for you, oh I wanna, wanna know Wanna know your body, body I won't give you up, give you up, give you up

I never really paid attention to these lyrics before doing this serie but they do fit so well with the scene! Wilhelm is so scared of losing Simon over the whole Alexander thing. He's in love, he's scared, he's all over the place truly. But he does need Simon, he's not ready to "give him up" and he's so worried that he messed up things too badly. (And we can't avoid the lyrics "needing your body" because let's be clear, these boys are hot for each other ^^)

Samurai Swords, Highasakite

I am leaving I'm a lesion I unravel to the leeches I'm unpleasant I'm not loving, I'm not loving, I'm not loving

Such a good echo to what Wilhelm is feeling at that moment. He's a mess, he knows he screwed up and he hurt Simon. He's not hiding his flaws. Not hiding the messiness, the unloving parts of himself. And we can appreciate that, to see him unraveling here and being his messy self in front of Simon but still asking for him to stay there with him. He knows he's "unpleasant" in this whole situation, but he doesn't hide. It takes courage to show yourself so vulnerable. And Simon being the absolute gem that he is can see through all of that, can see the boy behind the mess. Can love the boy behind the mess.

I'm not flawless I'm not cautious I am blazing out the houses I am poison

Second part of the song goes to August (and Sara watching him). What better description of August? Not flawless (no need to comment on this one), not cautious (he gets caught so easily for the leaking of the sex tape) and yes, he is "poison". And he's gonna be poison to Sara. He's gonna bring the worst in her... Later on the lyrics go "there's no patience, no salvation": foreshadowing? Will there be any salvation for August next season?

The songs of Young Royals - part 1

The songs of Young Royals - part 2

The songs of Young Royals - part 3

#Young Royals #Young Royals analysis #Young Royals songs #Young Royals S1E5 #Prince Wilhelm #Simon Eriksson #Wilmon #my analysis #song analysis #I like this episode #even if it feels like the beginning of the end #because August is a dick 😠#I like the Samourai Swords song #(I completely misunderstood the lyrics the first time I heard it in the episode though ^^')#(Sometimes my brain does not want to understand English properly :p)

47 notes · View notes

crguang · 3 months ago

Note

ok, so, I wasn’t sleeping bc I probably just have insomnia, possibly my depression, and also I’d just moved in to my dorm and I suck at sleeping in new places, lol, dw tho I slept for like most of the weekend and I’ve been sleeping regularly this week.

I honestly forgot that we don’t actually know wtf the stellaron hunters are actually doing , line they literally could just be lying abt everything. Actually none of them even say anything except Kafka , blade has his own thing going on, silver wolf is usually behind the scenes fucking around and firefly just didn’t say a thing , like come on, TB didn’t even think to ask anything, there was that dreamscape pass thing of whatever it’s called and the quote from 2.3 is like “Once, we dreamed of being strangers.Upon waking up, we realized we had always loved each other.” Which I assume is abt TB and firefly, and I do kind of wish we got some more stuff about TB’s past with the stellaron hunters, especially since firefly was so important, but it’s whatever. I am actually kind of interested in the script, what Elio tells them to say, and the stuff they’re just making up as they go. Especially since firefly’s script for penacony was just a few words (also firefly said she was part of the iris family the acting/performing one bc she carries out scripts). And Kafka was told was to tell TB during her interrogation abt what they’re doing on the Luofu, but I’m not sure if she’s just lying after that 😭Kafka has some explaining to do when she comes back very soon, in the main story.

hsjajsmskdmnx the arrests on the Luofu are so silly tho, especially since jing yuan pardoned her so she’s not technically wanted there anymore BUT I STILL WANT HER even tho she’s literally worth almost 11 billion by the IPC. The IPC stuff kind of bothers me tbh, they’re not the government, but also they’ve got a fair amount of authority, I feel like pardoning the stellaron hunters wouldn’t be allowed, like I don’t understand how Jing yuan did that without getting in trouble 😭 especially with the most wanted one. And topaz APPARENTLY doesn’t know who the stellaron hunters are, in her voice line abt them she said she didn’t know who they were but they had a good credit score ITS KAFKAS CREDIT SCORE SHES THE ONE W THE CARD and like it’s funny bc that means Kafka registered it under her actually name, and no one cares. Like it would’ve been funnier if she said like the wanted criminals, the ones who blah blah blah, but they have a good credit score. And jade knew exactly abt firefly and the other stellarom hunters, and even tho they’re different ranks topaz should know them. Especially considering the fact that they’re pretty infamous, ig I shouldn’t be nitpicking especially since march literally says when in Rome one time, but whatever.

sorry for ranting 😭 hope you’re doing ok!

-🌠

hope you’re doing a bit better!! insomnia is a bitch, make sure to take care of yourself as much as u can <3

i totally agree with you on the stellaron hunters not revealing anything, i dont really expect them to since we’re still quite early in the game timeline wise but it’s a bit disappointing for the TB to have gotten close to firefly and she never alluded to them knowing each other before, especially when the game’s marketing was pushing romantic implications between them😭 and the trailblazer’s “idgaf” mentality is a bit annoying because i get wanting to move forward and not wanting to be burdened by the past but not being curious at all is… weird. even march, who was repeatedly told not to look into her past, got upset about it at some point. and in the TB’s case, their connection with the stellaron hunters is actively shaping their present/future, so it’s not like they gain nothing from asking a few questions. kafka was the one who encouraged them to get some information from her when they were alone by playing truth or lie, like they don’t care😭 it’s annoying cause i wanna knowwww. a big missed opportunity with firefly imo, we could’ve gotten a pattern of learning a little bit about the trailblazer on every planet they stop by and it’d have been nice. instead all i get is trashcan and raccoon jokes like oh brother are we 8. i wonder what the script actually says, the SH says he always tells the right future but from what we know , it feels super vague. “experiencing 3 deaths” “finding the stellaron in a non-physical way” is not precise at all like how do they even carry those orders😭 no wonder they have liberty to do lots of stuff during missions, there’s barely anything in the damn script

about jing yuan, he’s general of the luofu and the xianzhou has its own regulations and criminal law, the ipc has no control over how they treat their prisoners and their bounties dont really matter to the xianzhou unless they want the money LMFAO, so the ipc has no jurisdiction to punish jing yuan for letting the SH get away. not to mention that the alliance and the ipc have trade agreements and stuff, so their relationship would be damaged and the ipc wouldnt benefit from that. at the end of the day they’re a corporation, they don’t really care for justice.

what bothers me is TOPAZ. IT MAKES NO SENSE. she’s a stoneheart in the same division as jade, sure jade is more cunning and always looking for opportunities to make profits but not knowing them at all is so ridiculous and unrealistic fr. they’ve broken into pier point like twice and that’s her place of work😭😭😭😭😭😭 no way she never heard anything about it to not form an opinion on them. i feel like giving her a voiceline about them was just for the credit score joke which also makes zero sense because why would any of them pay taxes to the corporation that wants them dead or imprisoned. how would the ipc even know which credit card is theirs and why are they doing nothing about it like its so stupid… herta froze all of silver wolf’s accounts cause she was feeling petty but youre telling me the ipc is monitoring their credit scores?.. like im not going to lie i dont take the ipc seriously at all. silver wolf was literally participating in a tournament they sponsored and they just let her compete. like that girl was on the big screen with people cheering her on… for a company that would benefits from civilians fearing/hating the SH, they really dont give a fuck. once again it lowers the stakes and makes the story less exciting for me, and in general it’s inconsistent and weird narration wise to approach heavy themes while simultaneously making a joke of everything. if that makes sense 😭 like the tonal shifts are always very harsh and out of place, it’s one of the things i hate the most about hsr. having the trailblazer crack a stupid joke when everyone’s super serious (which often gets them ignored by dan heng or makes march’s face turn unimpressed, or has her tell them now isnt the time) is starting to annoy me like we get it they’re dumb as rocks omg. when cocolia died at the end of the belobog mission and march’s first words were “well! what an adventure!” in front of bronya hello?!? having no tact in actual serious situations isnt endearing to me like u can just keep ur mouth shut atp

anyway sorry i ranted i guess i needed that off my chest HDJFKFKG

#sat answers #🌠 anon

11 notes · View notes

kazhan · 3 months ago

Text

Let's talk about Karen

You know what, fuck it, I want to talk about Karen Wheeler.

More specifically, I’d like to talk about the Duffers’ and, as a result, the fandom’s treatment of Karen Wheeler.

What does Karen do in the show again?

First of all, let’s note that Karen appears in every episode in season 1, and in 5 episodes in season 2, 3 and 4, with very little to basically non-existent lines of dialogue in most of those episodes.

In the first episode of season one, her first appearance is her telling the kids to end their game because it’s a school night and they can finish this weekend. Later in the episode, Will Byers has gone missing and Mike wants to go looking for him, Karen insists he needs to stay home and tells Nancy the same when she asks if she can go out, she also scolds Nancy when she gets upset because she can’t go out “just because Will is missing”.

Ted barely participates/helps, and Karen “hopes he’s enjoying his chicken”, she leaves the room, clearly upset for not getting much backup from her husband.

In episode 2, Karen is being supportive, letting Mike stay home because he “doesn’t feel well”, she tells him he can talk to her about anything, not to hide things from her, that she’s here for him.

When Nancy asks to go to the gathering at school for Will, she tells her to be back at 10pm.

When Nancy gets home much later in episode 3, Karen was up and waiting for her, she is upset, worried, and says Nancy should have called, then she starts asking questions about the sweatshirt Nancy is wearing, and telling her Nancy can talk to her, “whatever happened”, Nancy insists nothing happened and it’s pretty obvious Karen doesn’t believe her and is extremely worried, she looks on the verge of tears as Nancy goes to her room.

Later, Karen visits Joyce with Holly, to bring her food. She is gentle, reassuring, she asks about Jonathan, tells her that if Joyce needs anything, they’re here for her, etc… When Joyce starts acting weird and insisting Holly tell her what she saw in the wall, Karen tries to tell her to calm down, then leaves when told to.

At the end of the episode, Will’s (fake) body is dragged out of the quarry and Mike rushes home, where he runs to Karen for comfort, thinking he just lost his friend.

Episode 4 shows Karen looking extremely saddened by the news of Will’s death, but also very worried for her son, she tries to cheer him up and help him change his mind, and lets him stay home to get some rest, reminding him to call his dad at work if he needs to.

We then see her sitting next to Nancy while the cops interrogate her about Barb’s disappearance, Karen doesn’t say a word during that scene, but her and Nancy start arguing the moment they get home because Karen knows Nancy lied to the cops, she is visibly worried and upset Nancy did this, and the conversation moves on to what really happened that night: Nancy admits she actually slept with Steve, but it doesn’t matter because Barb is missing and no one is listening to her. Karen says she is, Nancy says “no, you’re not” and goes to her room, leaving an anguished Karen behind.

Karen appears at Will’s funeral in episode 5, with her children and to show Joyce support.

In episode 6, Ted wonders why Nancy still hasn’t come down to eat with them, and Karen goes to check on her. After getting no answer at all, she lockpicks the door to find that Nancy is gone.

Next, in episode 7, Karen is on the phone with Steve’s parents because she knows “she and Steve have been spending some time together”, she keeps getting interrupted by Mike, but she asks if Steve is home, probably to ask him if he knows where Nancy might be.

Later, Karen is in the basement and finds El’s little den and a piece of blond hair from her wig when the people from the lab and Brenner show up, and immediately start feeding Karen and Ted lies about how this girl their son may have been hiding in their home is dangerous (Ted laughs at the thought of Mike being around a girl, while Karen very much looks like she understood from what she found earlier than it might be true), Karen asks what this girl did, she is obviously (again) very worried for Mike, and Brenner uses this, telling her that her son is “in grave danger” but they’ll save him, if only she can tell them where he might be.

In the next scene, Karen says they should be out there, looking for Mike, but Ted insists that they should let the government people do their job, because they’re obviously “on their side”. Karen points out that this man (Brenner) gives her the creeps, and asks if Ted thinks Nancy might be involved in all this. Ted assures her there’s no way.

We should be out there looking for our son; Ted: they’re govt people, we need to trust them; Karen: this man (Brenner) gives me the creeps, thinks Nancy might be involved into all this; Ted: no way

In the last episode, after everything is over, Karen and Ted rush to the school, Karen clearly scared. She embraces Mike, crying, relieved. She is then seen at the hospital where they wait to hear from Will, and finally in the epilogue, where she tells Jonathan to wish Joyce a Merry Christmas.

So. What does season 1 tell us about Karen Wheeler?

Season 1 Karen is a housewife, a mother who is worried about the safety of her children (something she will keep showing throughout the entirety of the show). A child goes missing and she wants her own to stay home, her son’s best friend goes missing and is later found dead and she is shown trying to reach out, to comfort him. We also see her offering Joyce the same comfort and sympathy.

When it comes to Nancy, we are also shown a concerned mother, someone who is watching her daughter go puberty, start showing interest in boys and lying to her mother about where she’s going and what she’s doing. She is upset at times, but she is mostly worried and desperately trying to reach out, to remind Nancy that she is here for here, whatever happened.

We can also see that Ted isn’t the most helpful husband, we always see Karen taking care of the kids while Ted is watching TV or reading the newspaper. We never see them being affectionate and it seems pretty obvious (especially after what Nancy says about her parents) that they probably got married because it was convenient, not because they were in love.

Karen is also pretty observant: she knows when Nancy is lying at least twice, she makes the connection between the piece of hair from the wig she found and her son actually hiding El in their basement, she notices Brenner’s vibes were off, and she wonders if Nancy might be involved in the same mess Mike is (which, she is).

In season 2, in episode 1, Karen punishes Mike for stealing from Nancy and being overall rude and misbehaving for months, she states that she knows he’s had a rough year and they’ve been patient, but enough is enough.

We don’t really see Karen much after that, she only makes very short appearances until episode 9, where we see her relaxing in her bath while reading a romance novel when Billy shows up. She is obviously flustered by his looks, and Billy immediately starts flirting with her, stating he “didn’t know Nancy had a sister”, which flusters Karen even more. Billy says he’s been “worried sick” about his sister Max who’s been missing all day, and that he figured she might be here. Karen invites him in, gives him the Byers’ address and tells him to be careful, then very obviously ogles him as Billy leaves.

There isn’t much to say about season 2 Karen, as she barely appears and her longest scene is the one she has in episode 9 with Billy. Before that, we only see her acting the same way she was in season 1, parenting her children—or trying to—and receiving very little help and support from her husband.

On to season 3. In episode 1, Karen is at the swimming pool, sunbathing with other moms while reading another romance novel, when they get all excited because it’s “show time”. Music starts playing, slow mo Billy comes out in his bathing suit and sunglasses, looking hot as hell, and the housewives all oggle him. He compliments Karen on her new bathing suit, which obviously pleases her.

Next, we see her swimming, and Billy’s now the one ogling her, he then approaches her, starts flirting, and ends up inviting her to meet him at a motel for “private lessons”.

Towards the end of the episode, Karen is getting ready to meet Billy, she looks at her wedding ring, hesitates, then takes it off. She goes downstairs, where she pauses before leaving, and looks at Ted asleep on his armchair, with Holly asleep on him. It’s obvious from her expression that she will not go have an affair with Billy.

When we see Karen again in episode 2, she is back at the pool with the other housewives, but she clearly looks uncomfortable. When she sees Billy, she goes find him and tries to explain herself, the exchange goes like this:

“I… I understand if you’re angry with me. I just… I wanted to explain… why I didn’t come last night. It’s not you, it’s just… I have a family. And I can’t do anything that will hurt them. You understand that, right? But I shouldn’t have said that…” (She is interrupted as Billy has some sort of vision of himself bashing her head against a shelf) “Billy… please, will you talk to me?”

“Stay away from me Karen.”

Karen appears next in episode 4, after Nancy got fired. They have a heartfelt conversation, where Karen tells her that “it’s not easy out there Nance, people saying you can’t, shouldn’t, that you’re not smart enough, not good enough. This world, it… beats you up again and again, until most people just stop trying. But you’re not like that, you’re a fighter, you always have been.” She says she doesn’t know where Nancy got it from, Nancy jokes “Dad” and they both laugh, then Nancy says “I get it from you, Mom.” Karen is very emotional, and tells Nancy she’s proud of her for standing up for herself, and that if she believes in this story, she should finish it.

We don’t see Karen until episode 7, where she is at the 4th of July parade/fair with Ted and Holly. Joyce and Hopper find them and ask if they know where the kids are and Karen admits she doesn’t, she doesn’t think they’re here yet. She starts listing off where the kids have been today and then says she can hardly keep track these days, and it’s summer after all.

Finally, in episode 8, she comforts Mike after the Byers and El move out of Hawkins.

Season 3 Karen is once again trying to be a supportive mother, and we see her struggling even more with her marriage, even going as far as considering cheating on Ted with Billy before she remembers that she can’t do anything that would hurt her family.

In season 4, Karen doesn’t appear much either, we see her in episode 1 telling Mike to be home by 9pm because he has an early flight to California the next day, we don’t see her again until episode 5 where she is making breakfast for the kids and says she thinks it’s sweet that they’re sticking together, Ted makes a rude comment about having freeloaders, to which Karen says that they’re always welcome here.

In episode 6, Karen is horrified by Patrick’s death, she goes to the town gathering like the other parents and looks worried during Jason’s speech, she and the others rush home to look for their children who “should have been back by now” as she thought they were at the cinema. Erica says that they’ve clearly been lied to, and Karen calls the police.

She is here in episode 7 when the cops interrogate the kids, but she doesn’t really say much, and is only shown running outside when the kids leave, looking worried.

In the epilogue of episode 9, she is sorting clothes to give away, she doesn’t believe the whole “gate to hell” story they’re talking about on the news, and when Mike comes home, she rushes to hug him and says he’s “never going on vacation again, in fact you can forget about college”.

I feel like a broken record, but… well, season 4 Karen is once again trying to be a good mom, and worrying about her kids.

Phew. Now that we’ve established all of Karen’s appearances and actions throughout the show, let’s finally get to the reasons why I’m writing this whole thing, yeah?

Karen Wheeler is a good mom, actually

For the Duffers, Karen Wheeler is nothing more than a housewife and mother in a teen movie, her character doesn't exist beyond fulfilling those roles. Her children live in a horror/monster hunter movie, so do other adult characters like Joyce and Hopper, but Karen doesn’t. Her world is normal, she has normal problems: her husband is boring and unhelpful, her two oldest children are acting up and lying to her about things she can only assume are very normal.

Karen doesn’t know about the Upside Down because the Duffers don’t want her to. She doesn’t know what her children are really going through because they are lying to her, and because the Duffers don’t want her to.

Stranger Things only works if there are no parents to get in the way of the children’s adventures. Joyce and Hopper are busy living their own; Dustin’s mom, Lucas and Erica’s parents, Max’s mom and Neil all ignore what is really going on with their children, they are as clueless as Karen is when it comes to where the kids are and what they’re up to, we just see them less than Karen; we don’t even see Steve or Robin’s parents because they wouldn’t bring anything to the story and would only be more obstacles the Duffers would have to get rid of.

So, considering how we’ve seen Karen behave with her children, and how the scenario is literally forbidding her from ever finding out about what is truly going on, I think it’s really, really unfair when people say she is a bad mom.

In fact, I’ll even go as far as to say that Karen is the best mom in Stranger Things.

She’s here for her children, she comforts Mike and Nancy when they need, she has told them both multiple times that they can talk to her, she worries about them, and the whole “she doesn’t even know where they are” thing is just bullshit. This happens once, in season 3, it’s the only time where she admits she isn’t sure where they are, and even then, she lists off where she knows (or thinks she knows) they’ve been during the day. In season 2, when Dustin demands to know where Mike and Nancy are and Ted asks Karen because he has no fucking idea, Karen has an answer for both of them.

Yes, the answers are incorrect, but it’s not her fault both her children are lying to her.

I think it’s even more unfair—and extremely biased—when people also compare her to Joyce and make it sound like Joyce is the perfect mom while Karen is, if not the worst, not far from it.

I love Joyce, she is an amazing character, but she is also a hot mess who is barely there for Jonathan throughout the show. Hell, when Karen asks her how Jonathan is doing in season 1—the first thing she asks her by the way—Joyce says that “he’s good at taking care of himself, always has been, you know?” which… well. Sure. He’s also sixteen and his little brother has gone missing and his mom is (in his eyes) losing her mind, you know?

I’m not here to put Joyce on trial, like I said, I love her character and she is doing the best she can considering her situation and everything that’s happening to her, but she is also deeply flawed and tends to get tunnel vision. She is the one who asks Karen where their kids are in season 3 because she has no idea, she’s also the one who literally abandons her kids and El (who definitely needs all the support she can get) to go to Russia to save Hopper in season 4.

Again, I don’t want to pit those two characters against each other for Mom of the Year, my goal is simply to point out that Joyce, who is often described as The Perfect Mom, is far from being perfect, and Karen, who is often described as The Worst Mom, is… actually mostly doing what a mom should do?

Yeah, yeah, I know.

But what about Billy?

Let’s go back to how the Duffers treat Karen, shall we?

The season 2, episode 9 scene with Billy is filmed in a funny, even (in my opinion) mocking way. Karen is shown reading a romance novel in her bath, and the man on the cover is very much meant to remind people of Billy: light hair, mullet, strong muscled guy. Karen is clearly flustered the moment she sees him, and we are meant to understand that it’s like this character she was just reading about (and probably fantasizing about) just materialized in front of her. And then Billy immediately starts flirting, and Karen is obviously pleased, she plays along, etc.

Now, when I look at this scene, my first thought isn’t “ew, she’s ogling a child”, because… well, she isn’t.

Let me explain.

The Duffers hired a 23 years old actor to play Billy Hargrove. That is not uncommon, in fact it’s pretty much the norm in most TV shows/movies, and in Stranger Things too. 16-18yo teenagers are very rarely if ever played by actors below 20, but Billy is definitely the one that stands out the most among the teens in season 2, Joe Keery looks more like a teenager despite being older than Dacre Montgomery who has the stubble and body of a guy in his twenties. When I look at season 2 Billy Hargrove, I don’t think “this is a 17yo teenager”, and I’m ready to bet that I’m not the only one.

Billy doesn’t look like a teenager, because the actor playing him isn’t, and that is the only reason why the Duffers were able to film this scene, and the ones later in season 3.

If Billy had been played by a 17-18yo actor who thus had looked like a 17yo teenager, they never would have been able to make this scene the way it is. They would have been forced to change the tone of the scene entirely, either to completely ridiculous because we’d have seen some kid flirting with a grown-ass woman whose only possible reaction would have been to be like “cute, alright, moving on,” and see right through him; or to indeed make it very predatory, with Karen ogling a teenage boy.

That was not the intent behind the scene. The intent was to show bored, lonely and horny housewife Karen getting flirted with by a hot young man because they thought it’d be funny. The intent was to objectify said hot young man because they thought it’d be different from what we usually see and make them seem very smart.

And yeah, this is making fun of Karen. It’s making fun of her loneliness, of her reading romance novels and imagining a thrilling romance for herself, a young, muscular young man showing up to save her from boredom. The Duffers didn’t give a shit about the fact that Billy is 17, so of course Karen, their character, doesn’t.

In season 3, the same intent is there, but multiply it by 100 and just make everything worse. Karen is once again reading a romance novel and her and the other housewives have such boring lives that a young hot lifeguard showing up for his shift is literally the highlight of their day, one they know the timing of; we get the slow mo, the music, the bottom lip biting, everything is there to once again objectify a man because they’re so smart and pro-women being horny, vive le féminisme!

Anyway, Billy flirts with her, very obviously invites her to have sex with him, she agrees, then changes her mind when she realizes the consequences having an affair could have on her children.

Karen isn’t only made fun of for being a lonely, bored housewife who reads romance novels to escape the reality of her dead romantic and sex life, she is also made to give up on something that made her feel alive, desired, beautiful, to “be a good mother”. Now, I’m not saying that it would have been more “yass girl feminism won” to have her sleep with a guy twenty years younger than her, but… I just find it interesting, you know. She stops being sexual to be a good mother, and fandom decides to ignore/forget/erase all the good things she did as a mother because the way she expressed said sexuality was morally wrong.

Yeah, morally wrong. Because nothing she did was illegal. Even if she had slept with Billy in season 3, it wouldn’t have been illegal. Billy is 18 by then, he’s flirting with her, propositioning her, hell, he’s totally ogling her when she’s swimming, he was also the first one to flirt in season 2, etc. Now, yes, the morally good thing to do would have been to gently let him down in season 2, that’s what should happen in real life.

But Stranger Things isn’t real life, and neither of those scenes are meant to reflect real life. They’re the Duffers having fun, putting their own teenage fantasies of Having Sex With a Mom in their show.

“But the Duffers being a bunch of idiots doesn’t change what Karen did/almost did”. No, it doesn’t. Just like thinking the Duffers are idiots for trying to make Billy a one-dimensional villain who is racist for shock value instead of ever trying to say anything actually valuable about the racism faced by Lucas doesn’t change the fact that Billy said something racist about him to Max.

And yet, people are quick to jump to Billy’s defense, to make up headcanons, to completely ignore canon, to write posts and posts about how it was out of worry about Max and not really against Lucas (I’m not debating this here, I’m just stating what is being done for Billy) and I see no one doing the same for Karen.

Why? Why is one character butchered by her creators’ misogyny considered an irredeemable monster, subjected to the worst vitriol from a portion of the fandom, when another character, made to say something racist and attack Lucas by his creators’ because “we need to show he’s really bad”, forgiven and rewritten to be better?

Why is canon ignored for one, and not the other?

I’m not saying you should be all fine and happy while watching those scenes, in fact, I think it’s good they actually upset people. What I’m asking is why are people more mad at Karen herself than they are at the Duffers’, why I never see people outraged at how her character was used and mocked in those scenes, why no one is writing fix-its for Karen and instead further mocking her and treating her like crap?

What I’m asking is: why the double standard?

#fandom wank #karen wheeler #stranger things #billy hargrove #joyce byers #long post #I wrote this to get it out of my system and wasn't gonna post it because I tend to keep my “hot takes” to myself or small groups of friends #but after rereading it I'm like... yk what fuck it #I might as well put it out there because if it can make one (1) person reflect a little bit on why Karen is treated like shit #when the Duffers are the ones guilty of Bad Writing and Questionable Decisions #then I'll consider it a win #I'm also 99% convinced I'm only yelling into the void and this will mostly be pointless and not read or get people mad but...#idk sometimes you really have to say something yk #I also didn't point it out but Billy Hargrove is my blorbo #so if you think this is criticizing people for loving him it's really not the point of this post lmao

12 notes · View notes