#this is so so juicy and it’s been brewing in my head for like. a while.

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

Look I know the toxicity and the tension is like the main appeal of Burned Bridges and it’s utterly delicious but

Have you considered. An alternative. That exists in my head.

Them representing the part of themselves that they actively suppresses to each other. One suppresses his emotions behind a mask of a lack of emotion(Smitten(overwhelming emotion) to Cold), while the other suppresses the part of himself that feels alone and empty, covering it up with all of the other emotions that he intensely feels(Cold(the emptiness and yearning) to Smitten). Masks of overwhelming positive emotion and no emotion to hide the depths of their emotions. Their vulnerability. They are each other’s tormentors.

Cold pushing Smitten’s buttons at first out of his own amusement. Smitten retorts back at Cold every time he provokes him and dislikes the realisation of how easy it is for Cold to push his buttons. And then. Emotional torment. Them showing the depths of their hearts to each other. Whether by complete accident or an action made by Smitten that had unraveled them both. Their vulnerability and the parts of themselves were shown to each other. Cold hits a realisation. Smitten sits in stunned shock. They realise there is more to the other than they originally thought.

Smitten being Smitten denies it at first. He denies how similar they are to each other and retorts with uncertain anger in a vain attempt to cover up the parts of his heart that he tries so desperately to hide. But how can he deny it anymore? When now the question swims within his head on the possibility that he may be wrong, and now everything that he has done within the construct is coming back at him at full force? When what he’s done in HEA and him being the reason why his beloved and the Decider are unhappy? Is he a good person? He must be a good person! He is passionate and full of emotion! But is he really? The heart yearns for companionship, and yet he cannot get it through the Princess anymore. She is gone.

Cold acknowledges their similarities. And yet he remains unchanged. Outwardly at least. His heart has been shown to Smitten. The depths of his buried emotion and passion, the feelings of betrayal from the Narrator. They find their way back bubbling onto the surface. His heart rages a storm. He continues to deny the emotions within the dam that he kept locked up. Another drop in a glass that is already spilling.

Their existence forces each other to look into themselves. Their existence forces each other to start their journey to grow and to face the parts of themselves that they try so desperately to suppress and hide. A seed of doubt planted into their hearts, and it will only grow further. And one day, they will be a devotion no longer blind, and a longing satisfied. It will be a long and difficult journey, but with guidance, one day they will be able to look at each other in acceptance and learn to love the parts they feared and despised.

(Edited to have this cause I have a stupid idea. Ignore this)

[librababe99]

Hello! I hope you a good day ❤️

Could you write something for Bruce Wayne × Reader along the lines of "I like strawberries" *the next day the kitchen is filled with strawberries*.

Like Bruce just randomly drops you gifts no note, no sign, he doesn't even give them directly to you

Title: A Berry Sweet Surprise

Tags: Fluff, Bruce Wayne (slight ooc?), Female Reader, established relationships, Love languages  Summary: Bruce always manages to express his love in quiet, unexpected ways, showing that sometimes the grandest gestures are the ones whispered in the smallest details.  Word Count: 811 words  A/N: Alright I’ve been loving fluff lately...and I think this was such a cute idea Anon🥰 I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it. 

The Manor as unusually quiet, the kind of peacefulness that seemed rare in a place that held so much history and chaos within its walls. Bruce and you found yourselves in the kitchen, enjoying the silence, sharing a soft moment amid a busy life. Alfred had recently brought a basket of fresh strawberries, their deep red hues and juicy scent filling the air.

After popping one in your mouth, you sighed, almost blissfully. “Gosh, I just love strawberries.”

Bruce looked over at you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll make a note of that.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you replied, still savoring the sweet burst of flavor on your tongue. “They’re just… perfect, you know?”

Bruce merely hummed in agreement, his eyes lingering on you a little longer, as if to tuck the information away. It was the kind of quiet, thoughtful moment that didn’t need words — just understanding.

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

The next morning, you wandered downstairs, barely awake but ready for the comfort of a strong cup of coffee. The familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the kitchen, courtesy of Alfred, who knew you and Bruce far too well by now.

But as you stepped into the kitchen, you stopped, your sleepy eyes snapping wide open. The counter wasn’t just home to your usual morning coffee. Instead, it was overflowing with… fruit. Not just any fruit, either — bouquets upon bouquets, bursting with fresh, plump strawberries. Strawberries in every shade of crimson, gleaming under the kitchen lights like clusters of rubies. They were arranged in decorative baskets, in artfully crafted bouquets, and mixed with other fruits like pineapple stars and melon blossoms, but overwhelmingly, gloriously… strawberries.

Your jaw dropped as you took in the sight. There wasn’t a note, no card explaining this small marvel of fruit, but you didn’t need one. A small laugh bubbled out of you, and you shook your head, pressing a hand to your mouth in delight.

Only one person would remember something so specific, so simple, and take it to heart like this.

“Oh, my,” came Alfred’s voice, his ever-present calm layered with a touch of amused surprise as he entered the kitchen. “I daresay he may have gotten a bit carried away this time.”

You chuckled, glancing at Alfred, who had already set a plate and coffee cup for you. “I love it,” you replied, already reaching for one of the strawberries. “And you know, sometimes I wonder if he’s trying to make you look bad with these grand gestures,” you teased.

Alfred, ever the gentleman, offered a modest smile. “As long as it brings a smile to your face, I won’t be taking offense.”

You took a seat, selecting one of the strawberries from the nearest bouquet, savoring its sweetness with a fond look. The taste seemed even sweeter, knowing exactly whose idea this was and how well he’d listened. It was the kind of thoughtfulness that felt more intimate than anything grand.

As if on cue, your phone vibrated, and you glanced down to see a message from Bruce.

“Did you get my gift?”

“I did. More than enough strawberries to last me a lifetime, you know.”

“Is that a complaint?”

You laughed softly, texting back, “Not at all. Thank you, Bruce. Really. I love it.”

There was a slight pause before he responded, almost as though he were carefully crafting his reply. “I’m glad. I like finding ways to spoil you.”

You grinned at the message, feeling your heart swell. For all the sternness and stoicism Bruce often wore like armor, this was a glimpse of the man beneath, thoughtful and deeply caring in his own way.

“You’re the sweetest.”

You could almost picture his smirk when he replied, “Don’t tell anyone.”

Alfred cleared his throat, pretending not to notice the faint blush that had crept onto your cheeks. “Would you like me to set aside a selection of these strawberries for later, or should I prepare them all now?”

With a warm laugh, you glanced over at the mountain of strawberries, feeling happier than you’d expected over something so simple. “Let’s save a few. I think Bruce deserves some of these later too.”

Alfred smiled knowingly. “Very well, miss. I’ll prepare the finest of the bunch.”

You nodded, popping another strawberry into your mouth as you thought about Bruce’s little surprise. It wasn’t grand or extravagant, but in its simplicity, it was perfect. It was the way he showed you love — quiet, thoughtful, never asking for anything in return. And that, you knew, was worth more than anything money could buy.

As you finished your breakfast, you found yourself already anticipating the next time you’d see him, wondering how to show him your own love in return — perhaps in ways just as subtle, just as sweet.

[keithsandwich]

Belonging

Gen (referenced Keith/OC - Maeve)

Word Count: ~1.4k

Rating: General Audiences (SFW)

Tags: Time Traveling, Kid!Maeve, Mild Blood (Scraped Knee).

Summary: Maeve receives an unexpected guest in the conservatory.

Notes: Thank you @solacedeer for the idea and @lorei-writes for always being amazing and helping me edit my stories 💕 Also, thank you @fang-and-feather for kindly letting me use an Indicolitian name for Maeve's father :)

Maeve hummed a song mindlessly as she poured hot water into the teapot. Golden dried flowers swirled inside, releasing a soothing aroma that mingled with the symphony of herbal scents already filling the conservatory air. It was such a peaceful time of day. The kids were either studying or napping, and Keith was about to take a quick break to join her there. Sharing these little moments with her husband made her chirp like a bird. The tea was brewing. The galettes were crispy. The fruits were fresh.

Everything was perfect…

…Until Maeve heard a tiny little hum echoing her own.

She stopped immediately, and the voice quieted a second later. Her green eyes darted around, intrigued and scanning the familiar surroundings; the usual plants were all in their places. There wasn't even a breeze to disturb the stillness of the leaves, and it was only birds that made a cheerful fuss here and there. Just as Maeve began to suspect she was imagining things, a rustling sound caught her attention, and behind a flowery shrub, she spotted another pair of green eyes, so similar to her own.

“Luna?” She hurried toward the little girl who was clumsily trying to hide, only for her to duck further behind the plant. Maeve felt her heart clutching inside her chest. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?”

Maybe the urgency in her voice made the girl realize how serious she was. Or maybe it was just curiosity. When the child stood up and they were face to face, Maeve saw that it wasn't understanding or curiosity that had made her look up. The poor girl was scared too. And she definitely wasn't her Luna.

“Oh…” Maeve took a step back, giving room for the little one to reveal herself completely.

Nothing but a dirty pair of knitted stockings covered her little feet. Shabby and yellowed, they disappeared under the hem of her plain, colorless woollen dress. The girl rubbed her reddened eyes before letting Maeve get a good look at her face again. She didn’t have many freckles, but the patterns of the ones she did were all too familiar to Maeve.

“Lady, do you know what this place is?”

Maeve looked up at the glass ceiling. Of course, for a girl who had never left her small village, being suddenly transported to a distant time and place was strange enough. But to find herself in a conservatory — a huge glass cage filled with plants, some she had only seen in the wild, and others she had never seen before — must have been overwhelming. Maeve herself didn’t know how the girl ended up there, but soothing a child's mind was more important than unraveling her own confusion.

“This is a conservatory. It's a nice place, isn't it? We can take care of plants in here, even the ones that are too rare or too fragile to be outside in the weather.” Maeve’s words made the child furrow her brows, so she giggled to try to lift her spirits. “It took me a while to get used to it, too. I’ve always thought nature belonged in the wild. But the plants enjoy it here too.”

The girl still looked at her with suspicion in her eyes, and Maeve wondered if she herself had always carried such an intense stare. It suddenly didn’t matter, however, as the girl bounced toward the table like a curious little bird. She held onto the edge and stood on her tiptoes, taking in all the different pastries, juicy fruit, and the steaming teapot.

“Would you like to have tea with me?” Maeve offered, but the child emphatically shook her head. “Oh,” Maeve said, her mind suddenly filled with nostalgia. “Mama told you to refuse food from strangers because they might be fairies trying to entrap you, right?”

“Do you know mama? You were humming the lullaby she sings to me…”

“I do,” Maeve replied, crouching down to her eye level. The girl was still suspicious and scared, the poor thing. Maeve had to take a deep breath to hold back her tears as she spoke the next words. “You're Mabel and Bruno's daughter. They're shepherds. You have a little lamb named Rose, you gave her this name because roses are your birth month's flower.”

“Who are you, lady? I’ve never seen you in the village…” she mumbled shyly. “You are a fairy, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m not a fairy, nor do I have any interest in entrapping you, but while you’re here, you should at least take a seat, okay?”

The child nodded slowly, and Maeve smiled before pulling out a chair for her. As she sat down, Maeve noticed a small spot of blood on her right stocking.

“Are you hurt?” Maeve asked gently.

The girl lifted the hem of her dress to reveal a scraped knee.

“I fell from the oak tree,” she lamented. “I couldn’t climb it, and I tore my stocking. Mama will be angry with me.”

“No, mama won’t be angry. She’ll be worried because you’re hurt, that’s all,” Maeve said with a soft laugh. “Do you mind if I tend to it?”

“You would?” The girl’s little face lit up. “Can you fix the stocking too?”

“Sweetheart, your wound is more important right now.” Maeve served the tea just to dip a napkin in it. “It’s calendula. It tastes delicious, but it can also prevent your wound from getting infected.” The girl flinched when Maeve tried to put the napkin on her scraped knee, but Maeve smiled reassuringly. “And best of all, it doesn’t hurt. Will you let me?”

“Okay…” the girl murmured with half-trust, but it was still enough of trust for Maeve to carefully start cleaning her knee.

“You know,” Maeve began, “that oak tree was too tall for you right now, but you were so brave for trying to climb it.” She smiled to herself. She had started talking to distract the little one while she tended to her scraped knee, but now she realized she was searching for the words she would tell her younger self if she could turn back time. “Many people will tell you it’s better to be safe rather than brave. Some will say it out of worry, like mama, but many will say it because they think they know your destiny. They’ll tell you, ‘You’re a peasant girl, you can’t dare to be anything else.’ But you’re going to be so many things you can’t even dream of now. Life is… really, a strange thing. The Goddess takes us to places where we feel like we don’t belong, like this conservatory. But we’re never where we’re not supposed to be. In the end, only the Goddess knows our destiny, right?”

“Right…” The little one blinked a few times before nodding.

Maeve knew it was too much for her to understand at once, but she hoped the girl would remember her words when she needed them most. She took her own clean handkerchief and tied it gently around the girl’s knee.

“Are you MH?” the girl asked, looking down at the handkerchief. “I’m learning letters, and those are the letters of your monogram, aren’t they?”

“Yes, yes you’re right! I’m MH.” Maeve nodded, as she touched the embroidered monogram on the handkerchief.

“My name has an M like yours. I’m MS! But I don’t have a monogram,” the little girl said, more at ease than before. “Yours is beautiful.”

“You’ll have one. One as beautiful as this, you'll see.”

Finally, they shared a smile — an honest, warm one. Without warning, the girl threw her arms around Maeve, hugging her with all her little might.

“Thank you, Lady MH! I don’t know who you are, but I feel like I know you somehow,” the child said cheerfully.

“I’m the Queen of Jade,” Maeve replied, gently holding her back. “And you, my dear, are the very soul of this kingdom. The prince in the woods will recognize that within you.”

When Keith arrived in the conservatory, he found his wife with her dress lifted to reveal one of her knees, her head bowed as she traced an old, faded scar with the tips of her fingers. She had once told him she got that scar as a child when she tried to climb an oak tree that was too high for her.

“Mae… Is everything alright?” he asked softly.

She nodded and looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes.

But she smiled.

And it was one of the most radiant smiles he had ever seen.

.

.

.

Taglist: @evansnoir @bicayaya @queengiuliettafirstlady @candied-boys @fang-and-feather

@scummy-writes @hellecat @nightghoul381 @lorei-writes - let me know if you want in or out of my taglist!

[sunflowersandink]

For the WIP ask: I'm so intrigued by your 'Tim & Timothy AU' and also 'this haunted house in a storm' 👀 Tell me more?

oh wilds. what an excellent selection.

This Haunted House in a Storm is. it's your fic :wheeze: it's your Fandom Trumps Hate fic that I said I'd have done 6 days ago. she is not finished. But!! I did daydream up the next scene while driving a couple days ago!! she is in no way dead!! she's just still brewing!!!

Dick comes into the pretty, dust-free, magazine spread-perfect foyer, tucking his hands in his pockets. It looks exactly as uninhabited as it did the last time Dick was here to pick his little brother up.

Except, of course, for the teenager lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet, fidgeting with his sleeves. And the baseball bat leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Were you gonna go for my knees?” Dick asks delightedly. 

Tim scrunches his nose at him in exasperation. It’s truly adorable. “You knocked on my door in a hurricane. This is Gotham. I totally assumed you were going to be some sort of mutant creature that crawls out of the bay only during hurricanes.”

Dick gives an approving nod. “Good job. Would have sucked to have to tell Bruce you got eaten by the hurricane monsters. He doesn’t need the extra trauma.” 

Tim rolls his eyes, but Dick can’t help but notice the way his shoulders straighten the tiniest bit at being told good job, even jokingly. “Just wait here for a minute, I’m gonna grab my stuff,” he tosses back at him, already heading for the stairs. 

Dick shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing around the sterile, show-room perfect foyer, rocking absently on his heals as he waits. Rain trickles down the back of his neck, making him shiver.

It’s cold in the house.

The Tim & Timothy AU is one I really need to get back to soon. The Batfam rescues an alternate universe version of Tim who's been with Ra's for years, and come to the horrifying realization that their Tim has known this entire time that this was the fate Ra's wanted for him.

CW implied rape/noncon, Tim/Ra's:

Ra’s is in a good mood today. 

Timothy isn’t sure exactly why. It’s not his place to ask. 

But he notices. And he wonders.

“Would you like another, my love?” he murmurs, offering up a slice of fresh peach, juicy soft flesh spilling around his fingertips. 

Timothy accepts without hesitation, lapping at his fingers, dipping his tongue between them to catch every escaping drop of sweet juice. 

Ra’s smiles at him indulgently. The edges of his eyes crinkle slightly - it’s a genuine smile, not a taunting one. 

Timothy’s lashes flutter under the attention, unable to help himself leaning into Ra’s hand when he strokes his cheek. “Thank you, Master,” he murmurs, his mouth so sweet it’s almost sour. 

Ra’s hand finally falls away, and he leans back in his chair from the dining table. “Show me you’re grateful, pet.”

Timothy obeys without a thought. He slips off Ra’s lap, dropping gracefully onto the floor. There’s already a thin mat resting permanently in front of Ra’s chair. Tim earned that mercy years ago. 

His master’s robes are unlaced already for Timothy. Everything these days is made so easy for him. 

He bows his head and takes what he is given without a fight, and is reminded again that nothing needs to hurt.

Nothing needs to hurt. 

He is good, so good, and nothing hurts.

***

After, Ra’s kisses him, salt and sweet becoming indistinguishable. “I’d like you to meet an ally of mine,” he says, in his regal way that makes it sound like a suggestion. 

“Yes, Master,” Timothy agrees hoarsely. 

His master strokes his hair the way he would a favored hound. It’s much longer than it used to be, falling loose around his shoulders. “He’ll be quite impressed with you, I think,” he murmurs, satisfied. 

[chaoticstrata]

WIP Wednesday

So this is my Lucanis x Crow!Rook fic that I had started, but I decided to go in a different direction for the start of it. The WIP from last week is still around, but it will be used at a later date (revamped a bit, too). Spoilers for past Act I and for one of Lucanis' convos (I think one you get if you flirt with him a bit?)

The nutty aroma of the coffee waffed from the two steaming hot cups of the brew up to Rook’s nose as he made his way to the door of the wisp infested building. He breathed it in deep before letting out a long, tired sigh. The day had been long and stressful, and he felt exhausted…and still a little heartbroken. What he needed, besides a cup of coffee, was someone to talk to and Neve was the best for that. Well, as long as she was in the mood, anyways, which is why he had the second cup. Although, considering what he wanted to talk about included juicy details about himself and the other resident assassin, he might not need the extra bribery for her ear.

Carefully holding both cups by the handle in one hand, he knocked on Neve’s door.

“It’s open.”

Pushing his way inside, he put on a crooked grin for her.

“Neve.”

“Rook,” the detective glanced up at him from taking notes--pen never stopping its flow of ink to paper. When her eyes fell on the two cups, a dark brow rose. “Need something?”

The elf grinned wider as he set down one of the cups before taking a step back and nursing the other.

“A sympathetic ear to listen to my woes,” the Crow replied, sipping the hot beverage.

Neve looked mildly annoyed, eyeing the coffee again before going focusing back on her notes.

“I’m sure Bel-”

“Lucanis and I almost kissed the other night,” the elven mage interrupted, smirking behind his cup when Neve set down her pen, carefully closed her notebook, and picked up the cup of coffee.

“Go on,” she said, practically grinning like a fiend. 

“Knew that would peak your interest,” Rook snickered.

“Of course it would. Do you know how much gold I have riding on you two?” she asked with a small, airy laugh.

Rook rolled his eyes, although the grin never left his lips. “Why am I not surprised you all have a bet going on if we get together?”

“When,” Neve corrected him.

He blinked a few times at that. “Pardon?”

“When you two get together, not if,” his fellow mage smirked as she explained, “No one wanted to take the odds against you two. It appears we all know a good thing when we see it--even if some have a few reservations about it.”

Rook could already feel his ears turning red as he glanced away with a small, sad smile.

“Well, at least someone has confidence in this disaster of a courtship,” he laughed.

“You don’t?”

“I do…it’s just a…shaky confidence,” he admitted, shrugging as he took a seat on Neve’s bed. “The other night isn’t helping it either.”

“Right, you said ‘almost kissed’, not that you did kiss,” Neve hummed, leaning back in her chair, arms folded. She looked at him with the same analytical look she would give a piece of evidence. “Did someone ruin it by interrupting you?”

“I wish,” Rook snorted. He looked down into his cup and frowned. “Lucanis pulled away.”

“He…what?” she asked in shock. “Why?”

“I’d really like to know the answer to that question myself,” the Crow sighed, taking another sip of his coffee.

Neve pressed her lips together and frowned, tapping her finger against her arm as she got that analytical look in her eyes. “Hmmm…”

“Neve, you don’t have to try and solve this like a case,” Rook told her with a soft laugh.

“Isn’t that why you came to me?” she asked, amused.

“No, I came to vent,” the elf replied, leaning back until his shoulder blades hit the wall.

“You could have gone to Bel or Lace or anyone else, beside Lucanis, for that,” the other mage pointed out.

“True, but anyone else would have blabbed to the rest.”

“And you think I wont?” Neve asked, raising a brow.

“You haven’t with the more sensitive stuff our friends have told you while we’re out and about,” Rook stated. He tipped his head slightly, dark brunette locks falling across his face as he looked her up and down. “Unless I’m mistaken.”

She looked down at her desk and smiled before looking up at him with a crooked smirk.

“You make a fair point,” she conceded.

“But you’re still going to work this like a case for you to solve,” Rook sighed before chuckling.

“Of course, you know I can’t pass up a good mystery.”

“Yeah, I know,” he shook his head and laughed.

“So,” she started, picking up her coffee again, “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Rook sat up a little and took a long swig of his drink before starting his recounting of the other evening.

“I had gone to the dinner hall to make myself some tea,” he paused, laughing at the look Neve gave him for that. “Yes, I drink tea as well, even if coffee is my usual vice. Plus, coffee isn’t exactly great for helping one get to sleep.”

“Fair,” Neve chuckled.

“As I said, I was making myself some tea. When I got there, I heard a small commotion from the pantry,” he continued, rolling his half empty cup between his hands. “I went to investigate, concerned it could be Spite up to something. I was part right, but Taash was there, preventing him from leaving. Heh, they told him no and to sit his ass down.”

“Taash is the best at handling Spite when he’s in control,” Neve admitted.

“Yup.” Rook chuckled and took another sip. “I told them that I'd handle Spite from there and asked them to watch the eluvian just in case. Once they left, I talked to Spite.”

“I can’t imagine that went well,” the Tevinter mage commented.

“It was…not what I was expecting out of that conversation,” he admitted.

“Oh?”

“Spite wanted me to convince Lucanis to keep his end of their deal,” Rook explained, looking down into his cup with a furrowed brow. “‘Break their chains, kill, escape their prison, and live.’”

When he looked up, he saw Neve looked like how he felt by that statement, befuddled.

“Didn’t they, though?” she asked with a small frown.

“That’s what I said, but Spite was insistent they hadn’t, and he wanted out,” Rook said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “There was some more back and forth before Lucanis finally woke up.”

[thedeviltohisangel]

Fall For A Shooting Star//Cassian Week 2024: Day Seven, Free

a/n: i feel so accomplished for completing my first ever fandom week! thank you all for supporting my first journey into acotar fanfiction, i can promise that this is not the last that you will see of me playing around in this universe. my main focus is my azriel novel i have been working on but i would love to dip back into cassian x thea at some point or if you guys have anything from them you'd wish to see. drop me a note, thank you and love you.

previous part

The giggles of the little boy matched the general joy that always seemed to be filtering around the banks of the Sidra. Thea laughed as the gentle breeze ruffled his tiny wings and blew more dandelion petals across his vision. Her son’s chubby hands were attempting to catch them but he found joy in the pursuit even though it was futile. 

“Would you like some fruit, my little love?” she cooed. Jace glowed in the presence of his mother, smiling as soon as his eyes rested on her. He was just getting the hang of sitting up on his own, still prone to wobble and fall on occasion, but was enjoying the new vantage point that the position offered. “Here you go.” She held the piece of ruby-red watermelon to his lips and he sucked on the juicy fruit contentedly. His baby teeth were still little nubs in his mouth so the fruit equally served to soothe the redness that came with growing. 

Thea kissed her son’s chocolate curls and dabbed at his chubby cheeks with a cloth from the picnic basket to her right. Cassian was away in Illyria on a mission that he refused to give her the specifics of. It meant days of a closed bond and her and Jace filling their time with their own little adventures. Normally, Mor or Feyre would join them on a stroll around Velaris. A picnic by the river. An afternoon at the park in the Rainbow. But everyone had their role to play with conflict brewing with Hybern. She just wished they would allow her to play one as well. 

Her newly burgeoning magic was wild and uncontrollable but her daily lessons with Rhysand had her getting better at managing it. But since the unfortunate loss of control at dinner a few weeks ago, she had been banned from trying to use it outside of a controlled environment with the High Lord. 

She was helping Jace sip from his water cup when she felt it. The shift in the air. The sky darkened and thunder clapped. An uneasy darkness that was not the one she had come to associate with the comfort of her found family. “Let’s head back to the house, Jacey, okay?” He whined as Thea pulled the watermelon from his grasp and tossed it into the grass. A tear rolled down his cheek as she quickly packed their basket and lifted him onto her hip. “I’m sorry but we are going to have so much fun with all your toys at Uncle Rhys’ house. I promise.” The House of Wind would be safest but without someone bringing her, there was no way her and her son would make it. The Townhouse was heavily warded, as was her and Cassian’s new home on the outskirts of the city, but the others would be at the shared home. If something was wrong, there would be strength in numbers. 

THEA. She wasn’t worried until she heard her mate’s voice echo through her head. Where are you? Where is Jace?

We are down by the Sidra-

RUN, Thea. You need to run to the Townhouse. 

Cassian, what is happening? His answer, if he was able to provide one, wasn’t necessary as the winged creatures began to streak across the sky. 

She dropped the basket she had been holding and wrapped both arms around her son before taking off in a sprint. Cassian’s voice was growing louder in his head as he raced closer and closer across the sky. 

He nearly dropped from the sky when dread and fear and panic shot through the bond. A winged creature blocking Thea’s path to safety. 

Her hand drew Jace’s face into her neck as best she could to block his eyes from having to look at the creature. In the distance, the blue of Azriel’s power was in the sky slicing through the beast like they were nothing. The flames of Amren were in the heart of the city. No doubt Rhys and Mor were hurrying back from the Hewn City to join the fight. She felt stupid for leaving her daggers in the now abandoned basket now yards behind her. Cursed those men who had taken her wings from her centuries ago that now prevented her from flying her son to safety. Thea took one step back to give herself distance to think but another creature landed at her back. For all intents and purposes, she was trapped.

Thea, Mor is on her way to you. I’m going to be there- His voice cut off into grunts as he encountered the first waves of the creatures on his way into the skies of Velaris.

Cassian…Cassian…I have to lead them away from him. I can’t trust my powers. Her eyes stayed laser focused as the creatures began to circle her. I love you, Cassian. “I love you, my son.” Mor would find Jace and she would protect him until Cassian arrived. The outcome of this fight did not matter for her. All that mattered is that her child lived to see tomorrow. That was a future she would die to preserve.

No, you can. Trust yourself, my warrior. Trust our love for each other. Your love for our son to guide you. Thea swears she saw a flash of red in the distance. The babe in her arms whimpered in fear. It was all she needed.

She took one moment to breathe, to center the emotions swirling within her, to envision what she wanted the magic to do and the shape the nebulous form of darkness needed to take. The creature lunged and her palm flew towards, a spear of night lodging itself in the chest of the beast. The other one curled to launch behind her and she curled around Jace, prepared to take the brunt of the blow, when the ground cracked around them with his arrival. 

“Are you both okay?” he asked. It would determine how quickly those creatures met their end. 

“Yes.” Cassian cut through them like butter. His Siphons nearly blinding as the power burst from his chest and cleaved through a hoard that was approaching. 

“House. Now.” He grabbed them both with one arm, racing them to the Townhouse in record timing, smirking as Jace giggled with the glee he always had flying with his father. Thea turned to leave his arms as soon as they landed but he stopped her. “Let me look at you both. Just a second.” 

“You got to us in time. We are okay. Safe.” His hands gently caressed her face and arms before his gaze landed on his son and he almost broke. 

“I’m sorry, my son. I failed you by letting danger come to your home.” Jace babbled in response and reached for his father. He wanted cuddles and a nap after such a tiring afternoon. 

“Don’t even think that,” she urged with a hand on her mate’s cheek. A cloud of darkness, more familiar and comforting this time, began to roll through the city. “Go fight with your brothers. We’ll be here when you get back.” His Siphons glowed in response. Thrilled to be given the opportunity to thrive on the battlefield. 

“I love you.” The kiss between them was quick but meaningful, his lips pressing to his son’s forehead and his thumb stroking his baby-soft skin before he pulled away. 

“I love you, too.” They had always promised to say it back. No matter what. 

She walked backwards to keep her eyes on him until the door of the house pressed against her back, lifting Jace’s arm in a wave as Cassian waited for the door to shut behind them before he blew a kiss and took off to rejoin the fray. Thea looked down as the little one yawned in her arms. “Let’s have a cuddle, my lovebug. Don’t let battle excite you quite the way it does your father and uncles. At least not yet.”

@cassianappreciationweek

[thekinkyleopard]

When it Rains

An Alistar x Kanai Fic

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Emotional confusion, Vanilla, Comfort, Fluff, Hurt

Smut :^)

Description: Kanai and Al decide to have a beach day, but the weather has other plans. With such gloomy weather, Nai finds himself facing the newfound feelings building inside his vessel. How will Al, as his best friend, handle such a fragile moment?

Author’s Notes: Oooooops me and Geez needed some comfort and fluff and just like some juicy Nai and Al love. @aller-geez did the cover art and owns Kanai! 🥰 Enjoy!

“Nai, you ready to go? I’ve got the bag of snacks, and the bag that Draeko packed of beach shit,” Alistar spoke with a loose cigarette hanging from his moving lips, managing to keep the cancer stick from trickling out of his mouth. He takes a long drag, and exhales through his nose. Kanai looked around and then grabbed Alistar’s backpack of paraphernalia.

“Quite, but you’re forgetting your own bag, Donnie,” handing it out to the red head who looked at the hound with an almost annoyed expression as he gestured to his already full hands.

“I see that…can you carry it there pal? Little full up,” lifting the bags in his hands to emphasize.

“Oh….yes, I can do that….apologies,” nodding his head in response, his emotionless face staring back at Al’s own written in slight stress. This was their first trip to the beach, Draeko unfortunately had to accompany Levi on a shopping trip, so he really only packed a bag for them, and the demons were on their own for the rest. It was 10 in the morning, figuring that would be a good time to take a drive out there and spend the afternoon out under the sun. Yet there was something brewing in the wind.

Both the hellions had never stepped foot in the large body of water. No ocean experience was given to either of them before entering the living world, today, would be the day.

They both walked out of the apartment with hands towing large beach bags toward the black charger that belonged to the red headed demon. “Hey Nai….” Alistar spoke up as his crimson eyes noticed the sky around them was a light grey, no sunshine to be seen and the sharpened air was nipping at their slowly reddening noses.

“Yes, Donnie?” Kanai looked over at his friend, following behind as the red head opened the trunk and they started to empty their arms.

“Think the beach will have more sun? It’s kinda ass out today….” Alistar asked while apprehensively shoveling their stuff into the car’s trunk, his attention mostly drawn upon the dismal sky. He took another long drag off the cigarette he had been nursing before flicking it into the gravel.

“Most definitely. From my research, it’s always sunny at the beach according to the many different movies and online photographs I’ve seen,” Kanai spoke with confidence, as he typically did when he was speaking upon a subject he believed to be knowledgeable in.

“Okay cool,” Alistar taking his best friend’s word for face value before slamming the trunk shut and sliding into the vehicle. Alistar shoved the key into the ignition and started to change gears.

Kanai snapped his belt in place and looked over at the crimson eyed demon before raising a brow. “Al, aren’t you forgetting your safety strap?”

“Man, you know I hate that thing….” Alistar scoffed, adjusting his seat and review mirrors to optimal comfort.

“They say most deaths occur when one’s safety strap is not fully secured,” Kanai continued the subject, only causing the other to roll his eyes dramatically into the back of his skull.

“Ooo Death, so scaryyyy…please, I still have that Resurrection Stone you gave me, I’ll be fine….Im not tryna suffocate behind that thing for an hour and a half to the beach, you’re high,” he made a ‘pft’ sound with his lips, pushing the air away with a loose hand and shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

“Incorrect, I have yet to inebriate myself today, thank you very much,” Kanai spoke earnestly.

“It’s just an expression, Nai, please….Besides we ran out of drugs the other day I gotta re-up tonight when we get back,” he rolled his eyes for a second time, something he often did when Kanai was missing the point.

“Hmm,” was all the navy haired demon responded with. Despite having been earth bound for a year at least, he found that it was still hard picking up on social ques and quirks. He struggled greatly with things like sarcasm, and metaphors. It often left Kanai feeling misplaced, and sometimes a little off put. He was the smartest of his siblings, one could argue as the most intelligent creature within the realms of hell. Yet everyday he felt at odds with Earth, and his vessel that so closely resembled human behaviors. He didn’t understand, why he didn’t understand.

The drive was relatively silent between the two friends. Neither of them finding reason to speak in all honesty. After 20 minutes of stark silence though, Al wound up connecting his phone and blaring Hollywood Undead.

“WHEN I START DRINKING, MY DICK DOES ALL MY THINKING!” Alistar sang along with furious passion to the words as his eyes scanned the road in front of him. His voice boomed and echoed around them, loud and carefree, Kanai looked over at his friend, observing the behavior. Why couldn’t he do that? Why was he so vastly different from his hellion counterpart? He silently watched, brooded, wishing it could be him that careless and vulnerable. Even if it was just an example of joy. The navy haired man sighed deeply, lost in his head as he looked outside the window now. The sky still darkened by the horrible weather afoot.

They drove like this for the time it took to get a few miles out, basically until Alistar started to notice that the weather was in fact not improving the closer they got. “Hey, Dude, it doesn’t look very sunny out here,” peering over his best friend for a moment before he took his gaze back to the road, turning into the parking lot.

“Hm…this wasn’t what the research provided me, but to be completely fair with you Al, I didn’t do an extensive search…my apologies,” feeling almost, disappointed? Normally when he makes an error, he’s easily forgiven by himself. It happens. Everyone makes mistakes. Yet, something about this felt different, was it because he truly wanted a good day with his friend and it felt ruined somehow?

“Well…we’re already here so we might as well scope it out, see if we can’t still have a good time,” the red head shrugged his thin shoulders, trying to still find the best in this current situation, even if it looked slightly bleak. Something about today was off alright. Kanai slid out of the vehicle and helped Alistar retrieve their beach bags before they struggled their way to a spot.

“Holy shit, how the fuck does anyone get anything done out here? I can barely walk in this shit,” they both looked unprepared for the trek, sneakers filling with sand only making their footsteps heavier.

“You’re right Al, this is an insufficient surface to be traveling across…why do humans enjoy this?” The closer they got to the water though, the easier it got for their legs to power through. Finding a decent spot that was far enough away from the tide.

“Okay let’s put all our shit here…” the red head let out an exasperated exhale of air. Kanai settled the things he brought, down onto the sand, then quickly pulling his shoes off his feet. The sky began to close further in, and the sting of cold air warned everyone around, that the weather was to turn for the worst. Small trickles of rain began to descend from the sky, Alistar looked up and put his palms out. “Seriously? It’s gonna rain?”

“I should have looked up today’s weather, Again, my apologies,” Kanai almost blushed at this point, he was feeling overwhelmed with a sense of shame. Normally, he was smarter than this, more prepared. What was wrong with him?? Again, he almost blushed, but it stayed as flat as it usually did. His feet struggling through the sand as he attempted to pull his shoes off, “This substance sure is stubborn…it’s everywhere,” Kanai’s brows furrowed as he shook his shoes clear only to realize that the socks he was standing in, were now also covered in sand.

This had to be the straw that broke the camel’s back because for the first time since they got to earth, Kanai threw down his shoes with purposeful aggression, shoveled his body into a sitting position and pouted with frustration. He didn’t care that the rain started to pick up and soak through his hair, and clothes, only making the surface of his body that much more comfortable for sand to make home.

“Who shit in your sandwich, buddy? It’s just some sand and a little bit of rain, relax!” Alistar tried to cheer up his friend, brushing it all off as no big deal. “Although I don’t know how much fun this’ll be in the rain….” He muttered trailing off, looking up to see the sky coming down on them. His red hair sticking to the sides of his face.

“No, Donnie, it’s not the substance, it’s this vessel, there’s something wrong with it,” his brows furrowed deeper, he looked away unable to place the way he felt. It was welling up inside of him like an overflowing cup, but he couldn’t explain that. What was happening? Why was it happening? Today of all days ?

Alistar didn’t say anything this time, truthfully concerned, this wasn’t like Kanai. He was used to the friend that was more or less emotionless or sinister, no in between moments. This was as an in between moment and neither of them understood what was going on. “Did something happened, Nai?” Alistar, slowly taking a seat next to his friend looking at him with a crooked neck, neither of them seeming to care anymore about how the sky drenched them both.

“All day….its been weird but…getting here, realizing my research was inadequate…I know I haven’t logically done anything Alistar, but I feel like I have failed,” his brows tightened, still confused by the own words that came out of his mouth. The more frustrated he got, the more his vessel began to react. A single tear fell from behind his blackened sclera. “Now I’m leaking! Great! Is there anything that this idiotic vessel isn’t malfunctioning with??” Alistar looked over at his friend, now his face fully folded in worry as he reached over to touch Kanai’s open hand. Just barely brushing their fingers together.

“Kanai….you’re crying….” the red head had never seen the hound in such a state, small tears trickling down his cheeks. “What’s going on with you?” Kanai looked down and noticed the demon’s hand getting closer to his, and took it. Threading their fingers together Kanai looked down at his knees and shook his head.

“I don’t know….I can’t compartmentalize any of these thing,” huffing again through his nose the more he tried to understand what was happening, the less he could make out the sense of it.

“Okay, do you know what could have caused it?” Alistar raised a thin red brow trying to get to the bottom of this like it was a job he was being paid to do.

“I feel…..like…..” Kanai started, but then paused again finding himself at a road block.

“Go on,” encouraging the other to continue.

“Like all I do is let everyone down,” Kanai sighed deeply, letting it out but truthfully not certain that was the extent to the way he felt. It was just the cherry on top of it all.

“What do you mean dude? You never let me down,” there it was, Kanai suddenly broke and crumbled into a fit of sobs.

“Wh-what’s happening n-now??” Kanai tried to quickly wipe away the mess of wet that fell from his face. He was confused and now leaking worse than he ever had.

“You’re uh….honestly, Kanai, I’m not sure but I’ve seen this happen to Drae….?” His brows folded inward as he also tried to explain what was happening to his friend but not fully grasping it himself either.

“Me-me Too…..” Kanai replied, recalling all the moments he’d seen this happen to their dear little pet.

“Here,” Alistar leaned over and wrapped his long arms around his friend, burying his face into the crook of his neck, and now rubbing his back. “This usually helps the pet…” he muttered loosely into the other’s ear. Kanai felt the pressure of emotions push through the flood gates, and the hound clasped his hands to the back of Alistar’s shirt for dear life as he sobbed into his shoulder.

“What if I can’t please father? What if I let you down? What if we never see Draeko again ? What if ….I never truly learn the meaning of being human?” Alistar’s eyes almost widened with utter shock. So these were the thoughts causing the navy haired hound to panic. Seemed he really was embracing his humanity. It seemed so off, so strange. Was it the weather? Alistar can’t remember the last time they saw sun.

“You can’t think like that, man, you can’t…who cares about pleasing your dumb dad, he didn’t deserve your loyalty anyway….and Draeko? He’s stuck with us, I’ll drag that little pink and green brat down to hell with us if I need to….” He scoffed carelessly and rolled his eyes like he had it all figured out. His palm still rubbing gentle circles across his friend’s wet back.

“Hell isn’t a suitable environment for the pet….” Kanai sniffled gently, unable to force logic away even in times like these.

“Kanai, all I know, is….we don’t have to go back, ever, no one can force us, well….they can force me…..” he rolled his eyes a bit at the fact his siblings could very well kidnap him and bring him back to dear ol dad. He tried not to consider it and just stay out of their ways. “But you? You were given the choice of freedom or ….whatever the fuck it is your dad was offering cause that wasn’t freedom…” shuddering, but he still took the other in a large long hug. His hand now cradling the back of Kanai’s head to his shoulder. Holding him.

“I don’t want to leave….I like it here, Donnie,” Kanai whimpered anxiously, his arms tightened around Al’s torso as he gave into the gesture.

“Then we won’t…we’ll stay, and Draeko can be annoyed by us for all eternity, sound good?” Rubbing the back of Kanai’s head, he ran his fingers through the soft slickened threads.

“Sounds good…sndDffF…we may have made an error by sitting out here like this Donnie, I feel very very cold,” he snuffled loudly trying to clear his leaking nose from the previous fit of sobs.

“Wanna go back home and force the pet the gobble our balls?” Al pulled back now with a large goofy grin, staring the other demon down expectantly.

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Kanai couldn’t help but break into the smallest, SMALLEST, smile one would ever see.

“I would! Come on, let’s go,” Alistar now broke away from the other only to stand and extend his hand out to the hound, his eyes finally coming to a clearer state than they had been. Kanai took it and they both came to a stand, grabbing their things and making the horrible trek back as the rain poured down on them without mercy.

Alistar quickly unlocked the trunk and tossed everything in. “Okay let’s hurry the fuck up cause like, I hate this….” Squinted through the now heavy drops of rain, they both got in gear to get back inside the vehicle. Dripping and soaked they each looked at each other and then, laughed.

The two of them allowed the giggles to persist and eventually pass, Alistar shaking his head. “Maybe…..” Kanai started, straightening himself out. “Maybe we should get out of these horribly drenched clothes….and I promise to make sure the weather is adequate next visit, Donnie,” Kanai almost felt the urge to cry again, but he didn’t, instead he swallowed it back and maintained his composure.

“Next time, Draeko is fully in charge and not getting out of it….but you’re right, we should get the hell out of these clothes,” the red head made a scrunched face. “I can’t drive like this for an hour and some change….do we have anything dry?” Peering loosely around the vehicle to see if there was any spare clothing floating about.

“Just some blankets in the backseat but I believe the towels fell victim to the weather, Donnie,” Kanai responded, looking behind him into the backseat as well.

“That’s alright, wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen me naked,” Alistar chuckled before turning back around and stripping the sticking material off his chest, Kanai following suit. They each sat there now in wet jeans and contemplated how they were even going to attempt to peel these off. Al looked over, and couldn’t help it, immediately noticed how beautiful Kanai looked under the gloomy sky, slick with rain and hairs sticking to his flattened face, and instead of cracking a joke he opened his mouth to say something sincere.

“You…..” Al started, and wasn’t sure how to continue. He was so used to being crass and blunt with his words, but with the display he’d seen earlier, he felt like he sometimes did with Draeko. Conscious. “Look really good when you’re all wet,” he scoffed, and Nai tilted his head.

“Are you hitting on me again, Donnie?” Raising a brow with a smirk to follow.

“Hm, I’m always hitting on you, but, genuinely I mean it this time bud, you just….look really good,” Kanai looked over at his best friend and searched his face for the punch line. Alistar wasn’t usually one to be sentimental, so he reached over and flicked the demon in his left hand nipple. The red head furrowed his brows and covered his chest now.

“Hey! You fuck, what gives???” Looking rather offended that they couldn’t enjoy such a tender moment together.

“Never change, Donnie….I prefer you as you are,” Kanai nodded, reminding the red head just who they were in the first place.

“Yeah? Fine,” Alistar smirked and leaned up against the door of his vehicle, he noticed as everyone started to flood out of the parking lot, not them though. Perfect timing. “Take off your fuckin pants,”

“Oh?” Kanai asked curiously, looking his friend up and down now for any other context clues.

“You heard me, take off your fucking pants, I know a way to get your mind refreshed,” already Alistar working the buttons of his own pants pulling them, roughly, down his body. It took a few extra seconds longer than it normally would, for them both to strip the wet material from their legs. Once Alistar freed himself he crawled over the center console and into Kanai’s lap, already reaching his blackened hand into the hound’s wet boxers. “Just relax,” Kanai’s breath caught in his throat when he felt Al’s cold hand on his cock.

“Fffff…your hands are freezing, Donnie,” shuddering slightly at the touch of the other’s icy finger tips.

“Warm em then,” Al grumbled from lazy lips as he pushed himself closer into the other hellion.

“I’m trying….” Kanai struggled through a clenched jaw. Alistar bit his lower lip watching his friend already turning to mush, working his hand to pump the other’s length from its once docile position, to standing at full attention.

“I kind of like that you’re all wet….” The red head purred, leaning closer to Kanai’s ear before giving it a solid lick, starting from the shell to the bottom of Kanai’s jaw, nipping the area tentatively.

“Hmmm…I suppose when everything is all wet, it makes for an easier time….” The hound chuckled breathlessly before their lips met in a frenzied kiss. Both of the demons losing themselves in their saturated desires of lust. The one thing they knew best. Tongues clashing, fighting for dominance, Kanai coming out the winner, before long Al was practically ripping himself out of his boxers. There were no words, just the echoing sounds of huffing, lip smacking and scuffling from their position in passenger seat.

Alistar taking control, reached down, and around, positioning Kanai’s thickened length at his awaiting hole, neither breaking their fevered kiss. His other arm came up and around Kanai’s neck, anchoring himself before slipping the length fully inside his ass, he broke the kiss. “Holy fucking hell…” whispering cursed words across the other’s mouth. It had been a while since he’d last let his friend inside, his fingers gripping Kanai’s shoulders tightly.

“Hnn…you feel extra tight this time, Donnie,” Kanai gasped with a sharp exhale as his cock adjusted to the tightening walls around him.

“Shut up….it’s been a minute okay…h-hAh~” Alistar grunted, his voice strained as he allowed the fullness to persuade his movements.

“F-feels so good….” The hound sighed. Alistar sat back, allowing the full length of Kanai’s cock slip inside him, rolling his reddened eyes back into his skull. He let out a fiendish moan. The hound’s hands now at the dragon’s hips before aiding in their movements. They each desperately began to rock, and thrust against one another. Alistar bouncing ontop of Kanai’s lap, he gripped at the back of the seat now, digging his sharp nails into the material, ripping it apart.

“Don’t stop….” Kanai warned, feeling a spark within his groin that only seemed to present itself with force, the more Al road him. The windows fogged over, the suspension rocked as their motions picked pace. Alistar now taking hold of his own twitching cock in his palm.

“Wouldn’t…..dream of it….” The red head managed to reply while working on milking himself as his friend’s rod pounded relentlessly inside of him. He could feel it snap into his sensitive prostate and the crimson eyed demon was suddenly seeing stars, spilling cum all over their already wet bodies. “Fuck….”

Kanai now took both hands, gripped each side of Alistar’s waist and threw himself deeply within the other’s cavern, pouring over his own seed that leaked down his cock as he tried to pull out. “Shhhhh…..” the hound hissed as his body convulsed and twitched from his orgasm. They both sat there, spent, trying to catch their breaths. “I-….think we made matters far worse, Al,”

“Yeah….now we are wet with rain….and cum…” The two of them pulled back enough to look down at their freshly stickied bodies.

“Yeah…” Kanai agreed, pulling his mouth to the side as he hummed in thought. How were they to drive home like this?

“Shit,” Alistar sighed through his nose, running a hand through his wet red locks.

“Yeah,” Kanai repeated himself again.

“Alright well let’s just use the blankets then,” the red head was out of ideas, and frankly, patience, he wanted to get back home and get dry. Note to himself from now on, keep an extra pair of dry clothes inside the vehicle at all times.

“Sounds unpleasant,” the hound admitted, looking at the other apprehensively.

“Well….it is what it is dude,” Alistar sighed pulling himself back into the driver’s seat, and reaching back for one of his backseat blankets, rubbing it over his moistened body. “See? Not so bad!” Lifting the blanket to expose that his body was now littered in small fuzzies. “Oh…Uncle Fucking Christ,” trying his best to pluck it all off but to no avail.

“Is this really my only option, Donnie?” Raising a brow, the hellion looked less than enthused to be covered in small balls of lint if it came down to that.

“It really is,” so Alistar and Kanai drove home, naked, covered in blanket fuzzies and it was going to certainly be a story to tell the pet when they returned.

The End

Author’s Notes: I can’t ever write something deep and emotional without it ending in SMUUUUTTTT 🤤🤤🤤 sorry not sorry anyway, hope you all enjoyed 💚

[impala-dreamer]

Captives of The Court - Chapter Eight

A Supernatural Series

~Strange things are brewing in Connecticut, so Dean and Y/N go check it out. After stumbling through town, they fall into something that’s been going on a very, very long time. Can they put an end to the bloodshed and make it out unscathed or will they need a little help this time?~

Starring Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N

Chapter Eight Word Count: 2249

Series Warnings and Info may be found on the Masterlist Here 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Y/N was slumped over on the tiny kitchenette table, staring at her laptop as if it were sucking the joy and color from the universe around her. Her eyes moved, her finger scrolled, her mind was melting.

Her partner on the phone was less than helpful, only offering a hum or a cough every few minutes so she remembered that someone was still there.

“This is burning my eyes out, Sam,” she said, finally closing the screen she’d been on. Right behind it, there was another, and she whined to herself. “You got anything yet?”

Sam sighed heavily. “Still trying to match the symbols you sent me. Not getting very far.”

“Figures.” She sat back and crossed her arms, annoyed at the world, tired, and a little peckish. “Do we have to stay on the phone like this? I mean, I appreciate your help but this is kinda dumb.”

“Well-” Sam laughed. “I guess not. I just thought you were lonely.”

“Lonely?” She shook her head and grabbed up the phone as she stood and paced the room. “How can I be lonely? Dean hasn’t been out of eyesight in like two weeks.”

Sam hummed, interested. “Trouble in paradise?”

She sighed. “Not really…”

“I think I understand. I’ve spent more time in the car with him than any human being should.”

Y/N paused in front of the mirror and played with her hair, musing on her road trip with his brother. “Yeah. He’s kinda gross. But, it’s not that. Just- I don’t know! We’re on top of each other. I love the guy but-”

“You love what guy?”

Dean appeared behind her, a bucket of fried chicken under one arm and a six pack under the other. He grinned and kicked the door shut behind him, letting it echo through the room.

Y/N turned to him and sighed. “Love the guy who just brought me dinner!” She smiled and pulled the phone away from her cheek. “See ya later, Sam- I got a juicy thigh calling me name.”

If she could see through the phone, she would have seen Sam cringe. As it was, he gagged audibly.

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Hey, Sammy-” Dean cleared his throat. “Don’t call back later.”

He grinned and Y/N tossed the phone onto the bed. Dean watched it land and then slowly moved his eyes to her.

“Don’t forget that’s there,” he warned.

She bit her lip and cooed. “Why’s that?”

The bucket and beer hit the table and he took a long step towards her. “I don’t want you to get hurt when I throw you down on top of it.”

She sucked in a quick breath and batted her lashes. “You think you can just come in here with your chicken and booze, lookin’ all sexy, and toss me onto the bed and have your way with me?”

He paused for a dramatic moment and then smirked. “I do.” The space between them disappeared and Y/N gasped as his arms slid so easily around her. “So how ‘bout it?”

Pushing up on her tiptoes, she pressed a suggestive kiss to the corner of his mouth. She moved over a bit and tried again but was stopped by a rather embarrassing internal grumble.

“Was that me or you?” she asked, squinting up at him.

The grumble rolled again and Dean shyly smiled. “I think I’m hungry.”

She sighed. “Me too. Grub… then grab.”

He nodded in agreement and let her go, holding back as she crossed in front of him. “Sam find anything?”

“Nada. It’s definitely odd, but nothing’s jumping out at him so far. And the markings- they look like runes to me, but they’re not matching anything in the system. Or the internet. Kinda like they’re made up.”

Dean plucked two beers from the carrier. “I mean, it was all made up at some point, wasn’t it?”

“Technically, yeah. But it would be so much nicer if this wasn’t a new thing.”

He twisted the caps free. “Can’t all be easy, Y/N/N. Sometimes ya gotta get in there and dig. Get your hands dirty.”

She agreed, digging through the chicken pieces. “No wings?”

“Gotta keep digging,” he winked.

She tossed a drumstick at his chest and he fumbled to catch it.

“I think we get our shit together and do some interviews this evening. Make a few house calls while people are settling in after work.”

Dean sunk his teeth into the chicken leg. “I thought we were gonna- grub and grab…”

Y/N peeled the skin off of her piece of chicken and popped it in her mouth. “We can grab all night. We need to get to work. I’m antsy and this place gives me the creeps.”

Dean looked around, chewing. “It ain’t that bad.”

“The town, not the room.” She followed his gaze about the motel room and sneered at the hideous painting of horses above the bed. “Though the room is pretty bad too…”

The Putnam kitchen appeared to be designed directly out of a magazine and Y/N couldn’t help but be just a little bit jealous. The backsplash was an intricate pattern made of tiny bits of blue glass and crisp white porcelain, the countertops were black marble with golden flecks, the sink was large enough to take a bath in. She thought back to the tiny kitchenette in the motel room and sighed.

“Your home is truly lovely,” she told her hostess as Mrs. Putnam handed her a tea cup and saucer.

The older woman smiled. “Thank you. I love this room. The light in here is just- perfect.”

Indeed it was, Y/N thought, looking out of the enormous picture window on the east wall.

“Sunrise must be stunning,” she said with a dreamy smile. Her tea was steaming and she blew a breath across the surface before taking a sip.

“Oh, it is.” Mrs. Putnam set her hip against the counter island, turning to look out at the window. She smiled sweetly and Y/N felt a shiver.

For a woman in mourning, she was utterly calm and terribly well put together. Her blonde hair was up in a twist and not a strand was out of place. Her makeup was exquisite and despite her age of fifty-seven, not a single line appeared on her milky skin. She dressed as if she were going to a business meeting, with a string of expensive pearls at her throat that made Y/N’s look like they came out of a cereal box, which they just about did.

Y/N cleared her throat and set the tea cup down gently. “Mrs. Putnam-”

“Please, call me Ann.”

“Ann.” Y/N smiled and pulled her notepad from her purse. “I just have a few questions for you and I’ll be out of your way.”

Ann turned to face her. “Fire away.”

Her eyes were so blue that Y/N was distracted for a moment. It was as if they were being lit from behind by some ethereal force. She sucked in a quick breath and focused on her scribbled notes.

“The fourth victim, Brian Mills, was living here before he passed away?”

Ann nodded and wrapped her manicured fingers around the china teacup. “He was. Brian was renting our guest house out back. More of a pool house, really, but there’s a little kitchen set up in here.” She waved her hand as if nothing she was saying really mattered. “I doubt he did much cooking; he dined with us most evenings.”

Y/N tapped her pen on the paper. “How long was he renting the space?”

Mauve painted lips pursed. “Well now, I’d say a few months. He arrived just after Christmas I believe.”

The pen scratched across the pad. “And he was engaged to your daughter, Elizabeth…”

Ann’s eyes flashed over Y/N with a rapid cruelty. “They were not engaged.”

Y/N cocked a brow and skimmed over her notes. “Huh. The info I got from Sheriff Willard says your daughter was wearing an engagement ring when found. Maybe they didn’t announce it yet?”

Any previous kindness Mrs. Putnam had shown was quickly ebbing. “Fine. Yes. They were engaged. Elizabeth was fascinated with that man and no matter what we said, she wouldn’t listen.”

“So… you did not approve of them getting married.”

“No.”

Y/N took a sip of tea and calculated her next words carefully. She chose to sympathize. “I can imagine no one would be good enough for your only daughter.”

Ann huffed. “She wasn’t really our daughter anyway, now was she?”

She meant to speak under her breath but Y/N caught every word.

“What do you mean?”

China clinked softly. “Well, she was adopted, if you must know. My husband and I were unable to have children of our own, so we took Elizabeth in when she was fourteen. She was a very rambunctious and irrational child, but we did our best.”

Y/N recorded every word, every flinch, every heavy breath in her mind.

“Still,” she said, pushing gently, “it must be devastating to lose both of them like this.”

Ann’s jaw was tight and she stared down into her tea. “Yes. Well, it was tragic, wasn’t it?” She cleared her throat and looked at the time, the gold watch on her wrist gleaming in the rays of afternoon sun that struck the big window. “I’m sorry, but I really must be seeing to dinner soon. If you’ll excuse me…”

The Impala was parked a fair way down the street and Y/N was grateful for the short walk. The fresh air was nice and helped to shake away the crawling feeling Mrs. Putnam had caused to trickle down her spine.

Done with his own interview, Dean was bouncing down the front steps of a house on the opposite side of the street, about the same distance from the car as Y/N. They smiled at the timing but each could tell the other was deep in thought as they marched to the Impala.

Dean set his hands on the roof and fiddled with the car keys. “How’d it go in there?”

Y/N stretched to look over the roof but soon gave up. She opened the door and stood in the door well, finally able to see him over the car. “It went weird. You?”

He bit down into his lip and looked back at the house he’d come from. “That family isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but ya think after losing your oldest son, you’d be-”

“Grieving? Yeah.” Y/N clicked her tongue. “Mrs. Putnam was almost annoyed that her daughter was dead. Oh, wait, excuse me - her adopted daughter. She made that very clear.” She sighed. “Also… and again, I can’t really explain it but… she looked so…”

“Young?”

“Your guys too?”

Dean nodded and leaned in a little closer. “Dude’s gotta be pushing seventy and he looks better than I do. I mean, ya know, in certain areas. I’m sure I got the guy on… well height and stuff.”

Y/N breathed down a laugh but worry was heavier in her mind. “I just can’t figure it out… And everyone’s so damned good looking. It’s like they’re all models or mannequins or robots or something.”

Dean squinted at the light bouncing off the hood. “I don’t think they’re robots.”

“I don’t think they’re anything but weirdos. This whole place is just strange. I wanna go home.” Her shoulders fell and she pouted.

“We can’t just leave, Y/N/N. We’ve got a stack of bodies and nothing good to go on yet.”

“What if we… do leave, and just pretend we were never here.”

He frowned and met her gaze. “You could live with yourself if we just blew town right now?”

She cracked a smirk. “I mean, I’m not adverse to blowing things but-” She sighed. “You’re right. Dammit. Who’s next on the list?”

Dean checked his notepad. “Bronwyn Cromwell. Owns a- get this- magic shop in town.”

Y/N groaned. “Rabbits and hats or crystals and fuckery?”

“We’re about to find out.”

The door creaked as he opened it and the Impala jumped a bit as they both sank into their seats.

“Cromwell?” Y/N questioned, nose scrunched up in thought.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Sounds familiar…”

Dean laughed. “Well, it is the name of the town-”

She slapped his arm playfully. “Yes, I am aware. It just sounds like- I don’t know, maybe I read it somewhere.”

“She’s in the paperwork. Lisa Abbot worked for her for about a month before she quit breathing.”

Y/N chewed her lip. “Lisa Abbot… She was the first woman to be found?”

“Yup. Victimo numero uno.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

She shook her head and looked out the window. “I don’t know. Everything feels so off here it’s hard to tell what’s a feeling feeling and what’s just a feeling. Does that make sense?”

Dean sucked his teeth and jabbed the key into the ignition. “Kinda, yeah. But, that’s what we do, kid. We run towards screaming, we chop heads off monsters. If it starts feeling right- you’ve been doing it for too long.”

“So you don’t feel weird here?”

He laughed. “Are you kidding? This place’s got my ball hairs standing on end.”

“You are so gross…”

He grinned. “But cute.”

His smile danced in her head, striking a match of desire. She licked her lips and reached over, dragging her hand down his thick thigh. “Drive, cutie. I’m getting antsy.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The Impala swerved a bit as he pulled away from the curb, but all was soon well and the peeping neighbors on Morey Street closed their curtains.

[thepascalofus]

When do you think we’ll get part 3 to supply run? I’m just genuinely curious, I don’t have any intentions of trying to get you to post it faster 😭😭 i’m absolutely obsessed with the storyline i love this fic so much 🥹🥹💚💚

(TL;DR at the end!)

I appreciate the excitement for part three! All of y’all’s asks, comments, likes, reblogs, etc, motivate me to keep writing!

Unfortunately I don’t have a set date for part three :/ I find that I tend to procrastinate when I have deadlines. If anything, the lack of a deadline will get part three out faster!

I went on a vacation for a couple days and didn’t do any writing, but besides that, I have been working on part three every single day!

Not to toot my own horn, but I think part three will be worth the wait. I’m working on giving y’all some delicious smut to consume!

Besides part three, I do have some ideas brewing in my head for a couple different series!

TL;DR:

-There’s no set date for part three

-The wait will be worth it (hopefully) because I’m writing some juicy smut

[chorusfm]

Green Day Announce New Slurpee with 7-Eleven

Green Day have teamed up with 7-Eleven for an exclusive Slurpee. 7-Eleven, Inc. is turning the flavor dial to 11 once again by teaming up with Green Day and Punk Bunny to unveil an all-new, exclusive Slurpee® drink flavor: Kerplunk Kandy Grape. As an ode to the band’s 1992 album ‘Kerplunk!’, this rockin’ new flavor mashes up cotton candy sweetness with juicy grape vibes.  The Kerplunk Kandy Grape Slurpee drink is a sweet and slightly twisted treat that tastes just like the cotton candy grapes Green Day keeps as a staple on their backstage riders. Born from the band’s personal snack pile and reborn in frozen form, this isn’t your average frozen treat – it’s a full-on flavor riot. The new flavor is available now for a limited time at participating 7-Eleven®, Speedway® and Stripes® stores nationwide. The drinks don’t stop there – after the exclusive debut of Punk Bunny at 7-Eleven in 2024, anticipation has been building for the next drop. 7-Eleven and Green Day are rolling out three new exclusive Punk Bunny coffee varieties at participating stores: Mike Dirnt’s Turn Up the Bass Medium Roast, Punk Bunny Cold Brew Caramel Latte and Chocolate Almond Specialty Latte.  “Our first launch with Green Day and Punk Bunny was so exciting for customers because they loved seeing music and coffee culture collide in such a unique way,” said Marissa Jarratt, Executive Vice President, Chief Marketing & Sustainability Officer at 7-Eleven, Inc. “Now, we’re channeling that same punk spirit into our iconic Slurpee drink. Kerplunk Kandy Grape is rooted in the band’s story, and we can’t wait for fans to experience this one-of-a-kind flavor.” To commemorate the new Slurpee drink flavor, fans can head to select stores to score tune-worthy drink accessories that amp up the cool factor. Fans can score limited-edition collectible cups, along with custom straws featuring built-in Bluetooth speakers – perfect for turning any sip into a jam session. Each collectible cup features a QR code linking to a Spotify playlist specially crafted by Green Day, creating the ultimate sippin’ into summer experience. “I have great memories of getting Slurpee drinks with my friends. It’s always perfect on a good day or even a bad one. Being able to create our own custom Punk Bunny flavor and bring it to everyone across the country has been an amazing moment,” shares Billie Joe Armstrong. In honor of Green Day’s legacy in Hollywood, fans in Los Angeles who purchase the Kerplunk Kandy Grape Slurpee drink can use their cup or receipt as a ticket to visit the Kerplunk Kandy Speakeasy – an exclusive 7-Eleven x Punk Bunny pop-up experience taking place on Saturday, May 3 and Sunday, May 4 from 4 p.m. to 10 p.m. at 6501 Hollywood Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90028. This exclusive event offers guests a chance to sample the new products, along with free apparel customization and limited-edition merchandise to celebrate the new flavor. The first 100 fans each day will receive free merch to personalize, including t-shirts, tote bags, hats and more. --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/news/green-day-announce-new-slurpee-with-7-eleven/

[nwbeerguide]

Back for an "encore" Dogfish Head Craft Brewery and the Grateful Dead release Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale.

https://bit.ly/431vr45 image courtesy Dogfish Head Craft Brewery Press Release MILTON, Del., … Together again and back for an epic encore, Dogfish Head Craft Brewery and Grateful Dead continue their long, strange trip together with the launch of a NEW collaborative beer, Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale. Joining Dogfish Head’s lineup of year-round beers, Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale is now making its way to draft lines and store shelves nationwide in 6pk/12oz cans. If you're not sure where to find it, you just gotta poke around Dogfish Head’s Fish Finder to track some down. Clocking in at 5.3% ABV, Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale is brewed with Kernza® perennial grains from The Land Institute*, granola and heaps of good karma for a refreshing, light-bodied beer that will leave drinkers with nothin’ left to do but smile, smile, smile. The addition of El Dorado and Azacca hops brings waves of tropical pineapple, mango, and passion fruit notes for a vibrant tapestry of alluring aromas and flavors that just keeps truckin’ sip after refreshing sip. “As a beer geek with a music problem, few things in life are as sensorially sensational as enjoying a great beer while simultaneously listening to some great music,” said Dogfish Head Founder & Brewer, Sam Calagione. “In 2025, Dogfish Head is turning 30, and my favorite band of all time, Grateful Dead, is celebrating its 60th anniversary. I’m so proud of the broad appeal of this lovely new beer that’s now making its way to Dead Heads and Hop Heads of all shapes and sizes. With its layered, nuanced flavors of tropical hops complemented by its malty body, our Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale is as compelling and joyful as the band’s music itself.” A partnership built to last, Dogfish Head and Grateful Dead began their more-than-a-decade-long collaboration in 2013, with the release of American Beauty in 750ml bottles. Perpetuating a ripple effect, this imperial pale ale brewed with organic almond honey and granola was re-released in 2014 and 2015, each year with different Grateful Dead-themed artwork. Then, in 2018, American Beauty debuted in 12oz bottles, followed by the launch of American Beauty Hazy Ripple IPA in 12oz cans, in 2019. After American Beauty Hazy Ripple IPA, most fans believed Dogfish Head and Grateful Dead said fare thee well to their partnership, but don’t you worry anymore – this duo’s golden road continues in 2025, with Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale. “And it’s our best track yet,” adds Sam. "The collaboration between Grateful Dead and Dogfish Head has been a natural fit for years, and we couldn’t be more excited to launch this latest offering. Both Dogfish and The Dead value creativity, community, and the spirit of exploration,” said David Lemieux, Grateful Dead Archivist & Legacy Manager. “This beer is not just a delicious addition to your craft beer selection; it is a celebration of the shared passion for innovation that defines both Dogfish Head and Grateful Dead’s journeys." Celebrate Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale with Dogfish Head & Grateful Dead – March 12 To celebrate the launch of Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale, folks are invited to join Dogfish Head and Grateful Dead at Brooklyn Bowl’s New York location in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, on Wednesday, March 12, for a live performance by beloved Grateful Dead cover band, Bushwick’s Dead. Tickets are required and can be purchased at www.brooklynbowl.com/brooklyn.  It doesn’t matter what you wear, just as long as you are there! For more information about Dogfish Head and Grateful Dead, please visit www.dogfish.com and www.dead.net, respectfully. *The Land Institute is a Kansas-based nonprofit transforming agriculture with perennial grain crops like Kernza® that enhance farmer resilience while addressing ecological challenges. XXX from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/42ZZIAe

[daltonzhang]

1st Toonie: Ashenville.

This morning, I decided to explore Ashenville thoroughly. The mysterious city had piqued my curiosity since I arrived with The Guidene and The Poulard. As I wandered around, I noticed a group of farmers working diligently in the fields. The sight of them toiling away sparked an unusual desire to join in. I figured, why not help out and maybe even get some local gossip in the process?

As I carefully made my way down the small hill towards the fields, my foot caught on a particularly sneaky root. Before I knew it, I was tumbling head over heels, landing in a graceless heap at the edge of the field. The farmers stopped their work, their expressions a mix of amusement and concern.

“Are you alright there, stranger?” a burly farmer with a thick beard asked, extending a hand to help me up.

“Just testing the gravity,” I said, brushing the dirt off my clothes. “It’s working perfectly, in case anyone was wondering.”

The farmers chuckled, and I felt a little less embarrassed. “Name’s Dalton,” I introduced myself, shaking hands with the bearded farmer. “Mind if I lend a hand? I could use a bit of exercise and maybe some juicy town gossip.”

“Sure thing, Dalton,” he replied. “I’m Harold. We don’t get many newcomers willing to get their hands dirty.”

As I joined the farmers, I overheard a couple of them whispering nearby. Trying to be subtle, I inched closer, pretending to be fascinated by a particularly stubborn weed.

“Did you hear about Sinnestra Malovient?” one of the farmers, a woman with a sharp nose and a keen expression, whispered to her companion. “She’s been acting strange lately.”

“What else is new?” her friend replied with a smirk. “She’s always been a bit off since Martius’ death.”

“No, this is different,” the sharp-nosed woman insisted. “I heard she’s been seen talking to herself at the old Lovic mansion. And not just talking—arguing.”

I nearly dropped the weed I was holding. Sinnestra Malovient, the woman who had once pined for Martius Lovic, arguing with herself at the mansion? This was getting interesting.

“Hey, Harold,” I called out, trying to sound casual. “What’s the deal with Sinnestra? I’ve heard her name mentioned a few times since I got here.”

Harold paused, leaning on his hoe. “Ah, Sinnestra. She’s a piece of work, that one. Was madly in love with Martius Lovic, but he never gave her the time of day after he met Maribelle. After Martius died, she pretty much went off the deep end.”

“Sounds like she’s still swimming in the deep end,” I said with a grin, earning a few chuckles from the others.

The sharp-nosed woman, whose name turned out to be Edith, chimed in. “There’s more to it than that, Dalton. Some say she’s trying to contact Martius’ spirit. Others think she’s lost her mind completely. But recently, folks have been hearing strange noises from the Lovic mansion at night. Could be her, could be something else.”

“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Ghosts, maybe,” Edith replied, lowering her voice. “Or worse. Ashenville has never been the same since Maribelle and Martius... left.”

As the morning wore on, I continued to work with the farmers, all the while absorbing bits and pieces of their gossip. By noon, I was thoroughly exhausted but had learned quite a bit about the town’s oddities and its residents’ quirks.

After finishing up in the fields, Harold invited me to join them for lunch at the local tavern. I accepted eagerly, my curiosity still burning. The tavern, a cozy place called The Witch’s Brew, was bustling with activity. The aroma of hearty stew and fresh bread made my stomach growl.

We found a table near the fireplace, and as we settled in, Edith leaned in closer. “So, Dalton, you’ve heard the rumors about Sinnestra. What do you make of them?”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Could be just rumors, or maybe there’s something to it. Either way, it sounds like Ashenville has more secrets than I first thought.”

Harold chuckled. “You’ve got that right. This town’s full of mysteries. But hey, it keeps life interesting, doesn’t it?”

As we enjoyed our meal, I couldn’t help but think about the Lovic mansion and the strange happenings surrounding Sinnestra. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth investigating further. After all, I hadn’t come to Ashenville just to fall on my face and pull weeds. There were stories to uncover, and I was determined to get to the bottom of them—even if it meant a few more tumbles along the way.

And who knows? Maybe I’d even find out why Maribelle had reached out to us through that mysterious letter. One thing was certain: my time in Ashenville was going to be far from boring.

• CLAUDE, 2024.

[zeachou]

Hi, I'm Zea! Today, I will share my own funny story. This morning, as my husband and I strolled into the grapes store, I could practically taste the juicy sweetness of the grapes we were about to buy. We headed straight for the grape section, but our plans for a simple shopping trip took an unexpected turn. 😉🍇

As we waited behind a young lady who was busy inspecting each grape like a gemstone, she suddenly turned to my husband with a mischievous grin. "Would you like to buy and pay the grapes bill for me now?" she asked, her tone dripping with flirtation.😘

Before my husband could respond, he shot me a quick glance, and I knew mischief was brewing. With a deadpan expression, he replied, "My wife is keeping my wallet."😂

I stifled a laugh, knowing it was my cue to enter the scene. "Actually, he pays for my grapes bill," I interjected from behind the young lady's back.😙

Her eyes widened in surprise as she turned to see me standing there. I couldn't help but smirk at her reaction.🤣

My husband chuckled, reaching for his wallet. "Looks like we're all set then," he said with a wink.😜

We exchanged amused glances as the young lady sheepishly completed her purchase and scurried off. As we continued our grape selection, laughter echoed through the store, turning what could have been an awkward encounter into a hilarious moment we'd remember for years to come. Who knew grapes shopping could be so entertaining?☺️

#Myownfunstory #Sunday

[byicarus]

sawyer had an infectious effect on trent. seeing him whip his cock out so freely, with no time to even think about the danger of it, well, that was admirable to trent. he'd never been so free in his life, and he wanted it for himself . . . so, he let himself explore sawyer's sordid, twisted world of unadulterated pleasure. he didn't even care that his boyfriend was fast asleep right next to them as they dove into filthy fantasies that would've made anyone, especially chad, blush. trent couldn't himself anymore. he'd gotten a taste of heaven, and he was greedy enough to want more. "even better than a foot freak?" he questioned teasingly, a smirk up-turned on the corners of his lips, now glossy with spit and sweat. trent rubbed his face along that stretched rim, letting every bit of sawyer he could get seep into his pores and fill him up with insurmountable pleasure. he was losing in his mind, becoming delirious in the absolute best way. his tongue travelled along the ring of muscle as sawyer went on about his twisted little fantasy — one that trent was happy to hear. "bro . . . i already know i'm gonna love it, gonna nut all over the place. but what happens when i need more? you gonna run off and buy an even bigger one? how wrecked're you gonna make my hole, bro?" trent questioned with an arched brow. he wanted to hear more, to hear the unfathomable filthy he knew was brewing in sawyer's pretty little head. "damn, dude . . . that sounds like heaven. who knows? i might even have to fuck you up against some alley wall one night on our way home, but you'd go wild for that, wouldn't you? treat you like some bimbo slut." trent didn't know where all of this was coming from, but once the floodgates had been opened, it was all gushing out of him like a rampant river. with chad, he'd suppressed so much of himself and his carnal desires, but with sawyer, he didn't have to do any of that. he could run wild and free — and trent loved it! "duuuude, i'd fuckin' love it. you can use me like your fleshlight or one of your pocket pussies . . . anytime! 's what good bros do for each other, right? that and slobber over each other's sweaty feet and sloppy holes," trent mused with a little chuckle. his lips wrapped around that stretched out rim and sucked gently before letting his tongue prod against the boy's sweet spot. he wanted nothing more than to have his fiendish little friend's toes curling in please, wanted to bring him more pleasure than any piece of plastic ever had — and trent knew he could do it! "'cause i'm fuckin' addicted to it, man. i mean, fuck, you would be too if you got a taste of it. i fuckin' love it, bro . . . it's practically kissin' me back!" trent exclaimed, a glazed over look of lust in his brown eyes. "can you imagine how fuckin' sloppy this pussy's gonna be? it'll be talkin' back to me, begging for more of my fist! i'm gonna fuckin' make you piss yourself, 's how good i'm gonna make you feel." once sawyer had gotten trent started, there was no way he was going to dial it down or go back. he'd accepted his rightful fate as a toy just for his amusement, for his pleasure. he'd never felt better about a decision before in his life — and it wasn't just the fumes from sawyer's lithe, sweaty body either! "bro . . . really? i'd be honored to get soaked in your ass juice!" trent replied with wide eyes. "fuck yeah, you are . . . and i'm gonna make sure that pussy's mine. you're gonna be addicted to me, bro. my feet, my pits, my cock, this juicy ass — every part! i'm the toy of your dreams. you ain't gonna know what t'do with me!"

"dude, you'd never guess that he was the frat's little bitch boy . . . now he's just no fun," trent explained with a chuckle. all of that was in the past in the now, and all the former frat bro could think of was the sinfully delightful present — and all the filth-filled fun they'd have in the future. "that's what i try to tell him . . . that there's nothing better than a pair of sweaty socks, but he doesn't get it. i'm glad you do though, bro. been missin' out on bein' a little foot fag again," he admitted unabashedly. he craved something new, something that had him on his toes at all times. someone like sawyer was exactly what he needed. sure, trent had his fair share of past escapades — college was a whirlwind — but hours of mindless gooning had never been something that had even crossed his mind. sawyer had opened him up to a whole new world of possibilities. "well, if you saw the size of his dick, you'd probably understand a bit more . . . but you, dude? i'll spread my legs for that fat cock anytime you want," trent chuckled. the pain of sawyer's hand smacking down on his ass stung, but the pain subsided to pleasure, making his thick cock twitch. he let out a groan, eyes rolling back into his head. sawyer was taking over his senses, bringing him all the pleasure in the world — and trent would never get enough of it. "i think you should wreck my throat with one of your dildos after you wreck that boycunt sloppy!" trent said, wide-eyed, a tinge of desperation to his voice. he'd never been this needy before, but he found himself discovering new things about himself that he never knew existed before. he craved sawyer more than he could ever put into words, eager to be put to use for nothing more than the lanky boy's filth-ridden fantasies. "you want me to just start walkin' 'round in here in 'em? i could even get a slutty li'l skirt to match. just be your live-in bitch. admit it — you'd love it if you had a little bimbo all the time to come twerk on that fat cock . . . and who's got a fatter ass?!" trent mused, slurring his words. the pleasure had started to seep into his brain and was starting to take over his system . . . and trent just let it — happily. "dude, you got it. you wanna come with me? i'll let you get a taste of this ass in the locker room. gonna get you addicted to this fat ass, baby," he mewled. each stroke of sawyer's fingers had his toes curling right in the boy's face. his hand wrapped around his cock, tugging at it like there was no tomorrow. everything was so overwhelmingly heavenly. he didn't care that his boyfriend was snoring, fast asleep, beside him. nor did sawyer, who was slobbering all over his feet, drenching them in thick layers of spit. "go on then . . . let 'em hear how much you love 'em. propose to 'em, right here, right now, and you can goon on 'em whenever ya want!" trent encouraged. when he thought his stretched out to the max, sawyer would slip another digit in, and a new layer of ecstasy would dawn upon him. he was four digits in, and his cock was begging to release a thick, creamy load . . . but he held off, wanting to wait until sawyer was wrist-deep in his sloppy cunt. "dude, this pussy's his," trent slurred goofily to his sleeping boyfriend. "i'm gonna let him bust nut after nut in it. he's already practically usin' my cunt as a punching bag . . . and i can't wait for him to use it as his personal urinal. bet he'll feed me his load after too." he was throwing all caution to the wind, giving everything right up to sawyer on a silver platter. "wreck this fuckin' fag pussy, bro," trent choked out. his cunt was squelching with leaking juices around sawyer's digits, but still somehow, he wanted more. he was as greedy as they came, and nothing would ever stop him. "gimme your whole fist, dude. do it, and i'll fuckin' bust. make that fag cunt your fuckin' toy, brooo. wreck it! c'mon, man . . . i need it!"

sawyer park wasn't the brightest, but he was the boldest. he feared nothing and no one, which was likely a result of an extremely privileged upbringing with minimal supervision — not that he would ever truly know, because who needed therapy when they had a fat cock and an utterly wrecked hole that all the dudes wanted to slobber on? not sawyer park, at least. in all honesty, trent wasn't much more than another toy in sawyer's collection. he wasn't interested meeting trent's folks or finding out what made him tick. all sawyer wanted was unlimited access to that sinful little body that chad wasn't paying enough attention to, and trent didn't seem to mind! as far as sawyer was concerned, they were each getting what they wanted — unadulterated filth and debauchery with no strings. what could be better than that? "the best kinda freak there is," sawyer said with a dopey grin. a trickle of laughter fell from his lips as the boy's face went wild between his glistening cheeks. "that fagpussy's gonna be so fucked up, you aren't gonna know what to do with yourself, bro! 'm gonna make you take the biggest one i've got, and you're gonna love it. next thing i know, you'll be sleeping strapped down to it!" he mused giddily. "that's all you gotta say, man. . . i'm gonna be givin' you nasty footjobs in the middle of the fucking park, just stroking that fat piece of meat with my sweaty feet, dude. we're gonna make the news." it was pretty obvious to sawyer that trent was struggling with the very thing that every young man in a boring, monogamous relationship was struggling with. chad was depriving him of what he truly desired, and it had driven him crazy. not that sawyer minded, since it had driven him to where he truly belonged — gooning out with him! "y'don't have to tell me twice, dude. i'll have you in my bed for hours, usin' that fat ass like my personal cumtoilet. you won't even feel like a real person, bro. . . just a plastic pussy. i'll have you so worn out you'd wake up with your face in my feet," the dark-haired boy fantasized. if he wasn't already, sawyer was going to see to it that chad was but a distant memory. he beamed from ear to ear as trent's soft, pouty lips pressed to his sweaty hole. his pink rim glistened with sweat and saliva, stretched obscenely as it fluttered against those glossy petals. it was easily one of the filthiest sights that sawyer had ever laid eyes on; trent looked as though he was kissing the lips of a lover, like he was truly in love with his sweaty boyhole. sawyer could hardly get enough! "it proves that you're a nasty fuckin' fag, bro! you're kissin' my boycunt with more passion than i've ever seen you kiss this fuckin' loser," sawyer jeered, a delighted smirk on his lips. "fucking do it, trent. blow my pussy out 'til i can take both your fists, turn it out 'til my cheeks won't hide how fat and swollen my pussy lips are. fuck, dude. . . imagine how sweaty and nasty it would get all fuckin' blown out and gaped!" he carried on, toes curling at the mere thought. the more he went on, the deeper he fell into filth. sawyer was entirely uninhibited, and he was pulling trent down the rabbit hole with him — pretty soon, it'd be just as sloppy as his own! "i fucking mean it, dude— i want my pussy to be so fuckin' wide and nasty that your face gets soaked in my assjuice after one kiss," sawyer assured with a grin. "i'm the real deal, bro. i'm the hole of your fuckin' dreams."

"what a fuckin' loser, man. . . how the hell did you end up with this guy?" sawyer snickered, damp strands of hair falling in front of his eyes as he shook his head. "changing your socks is for pussies— and not the good kind. if my feet aren't soaked when i take my socks off, i'm doing something so wrong." for as long as sawyer could remember, he'd been infatuated with his own filth. he loved jerking his fat, greasy cock with his socks pressed to his nose, loved huffing and sucking on his fingers after they'd been in his sweaty hole. gooning seemed like the perfect solution for him, but he had completely underestimated how amazing it'd feel to have someone else basking in it with him! "dude, i know i've said it. . . but he's a fucking idiot! you've got the fattest ass i've ever seen, the fact that he isn't breeding your fagcunt all the time makes no sense to me," he chuckled. sawyer brought his hand down on trent's ass, watching the tan cheeks jiggle back into place as a bright red handprint appeared. his fingers dug into the doughy flesh, spreading the boy's perfect ass apart to admire that glistening hole. trent was pure porn, taken straight from the screen and dropped on earth for sawyer to salivate over. "that's hot, bro— my favorite thing t'do is wreck my throat on a dildo that just finished wrecking my hole," sawyer admitted with a smirk. he groaned loudly as his nose rubbed against trent's hole, eyelids fluttering as he took in a large breath. he let his roommate's musk penetrate his senses and take over his brain; his eyes were glazed over, like he'd been gooning for hours, and his cock was practically drooling pre-cum onto the floor. "i didn't know, man. . . i swear! but that ass would look insane in a fuckin' thong, especially twerkin' on my dong like a pathetic bimbo," he gushed, jiggling those milky cheeks around his sweaty face. "matter of fact, i want you t'start focusing on your fuckin' ass when you're in the gym— get that faghole nice and sweaty for me, and get that ass even fatter! i'm gonna make you look like a cheap fuckin' slut." sawyer could hardly believe how long it had taken trent to give in. it truly felt like they were made for one another, every part perfectly handcrafted to be used for the other's pleasure. his fingers pumped into that fresh gooner hole as he dug his face into the boy's soles, mouthing at them sloppily with every bit of fire he had in his petite body. feet had always been his favorite, and sawyer had never had a pair quite as big to slobber on — in truth, he'd only ever worshipped his own. "i'll fuckin' marry 'em, if you let me. . . i'll show that bitch how to treat a perfect pair of ripe, sweaty feet," sawyer moaned out. he didn't even bother pulling his face out of trent's feet, voice muffled as he made out with the boy's perfectly sweaty soles. he slipped another finger into trent's cunt, spreading them apart and curling them against his prostate. "don't tell me, bro. i already know— tell him!" he replied with a mischievous grin. to further send trent into a frenzy, sawyer slid a third finger into his twitching hole. his fastened his pace, keeping a foot on his cheek as he watched the boy's cunt blossom around his fingers. "this what you wanted, fag? wanna be wrecked on my fuckin' fingers? wanna take my fist before you take my cock?" sawyer snickered, slipping in a fourth. "you're almost there, dude. . . you hear how sloppy that little cunt's getting?"

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Facade - Chapter 4 (Transgression)

Badly written smut ahead -

Please do not read this fic if this is not your cup of tea. You have been warned, by clicking on Keep Reading means you have understood the warning. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

18 +

You felt all sweaty and sticky when you woke up. You got up from the bed, your body aching in all places, your pussy still throbbing. Thankfully, there was hot water for you to drench your body. You were surprised to find assorted soaps, lotions, oils and creams in their packaging in the bathroom, along with necessary toiletries. You brushed your teeth, mulling over the packed items. You knew Tommy didn’t use any of these. He barely used sunscreen. You needed something to moisturise your skin after a scalding hot shower, so you used them. You grabbed a bathrobe and wore it, knowing you didn’t have any clothes to change into.

You padded downstairs to find Thomas Shelby in his undershirt and shorts cutting up fruits, coffee brewing on the side. He looked up at you, frowning, his steely blue eyes filled with disappointment.

You sat down on the chair, grabbing an apple from the table. You bit into the juicy fruit, its juice travelling down your lips. Thomas left the kitchen island and marched towards you. He cupped your face, his lips licking yours.

You padded downstairs to find Thomas Shelby in his undershirt and shorts cutting up fruits, coffee brewing on the side. He looked up at you, frowning, his steely blue eyes filled with disappointment.

You sat down on the chair, grabbing an apple from the table. You bit into the juicy fruit, its juice travelling down your lips. Thomas left the kitchen island and marched towards you. He cupped your face, his lips licking yours.

“What did I say about clothes?”

“Not to wear any, sir.”

“Why are you wearing a bathrobe.”

“I felt a bit cold.”

“If you feel cold, come to me. I have ways to warm you up.”

You just nodded.

He pushed the plate of cut fruits and toast in front of you. Thomas got you freshly pressed orange juice as well.

“Eat. You’ll need all the strength. You need to be punished for not listening.”

You gulped, your pussy throbbing with excitement.

Thomas ate your pussy like a ravenous man in the kitchen. You were his breakfast. He kept pulling orgasm out of you, leaving you oversensitive and with unsteady legs. He ordered you to go to the bedroom and wait for him. Your thoughts running miles a minute, your core pulsating with desire.

He entered the room and ordered you to undress and lay on the bed. He opened the walk-in closet and got handcuffs and a spreader bar. Your breath hitched, and he stalked towards you like a panther. He grabbed both of your hands and pushed them above your head.

Thomas anchored the handcuffs in the headboard and cuffed your hands. He then took the spreader bar and cuffed your legs. Thomas pushes your legs far away from each other. You were spread eagle on the bed spreader bar holding you in a vulnerable position. Your drenched folds exposed for Thomas Shelby to see. He hovers over your side in the bed, inspecting his plaything, his fucktoy, his cocksleeve, his precious secret.

“You need to learn to obey me, darling. The deal is that you belong to me. My property. No one touches my property, not even you.” He tells you in his husky voice as his lips lick your nipples one by one. He kneads your breasts, touching them, feeling them, holding them, licking them. He takes off his undershirt and shorts and grabs the spreader bar, and pushes it over his head, situating himself between your legs while the spreader bar keeps you open for him.

“You are mine”, he states loud enough for you to hear. You swallow in your fear.

“Do you feel helpless?”

You nod nervously.

“That is how I feel when I can’t feel you. This cunt is mine, and you are mine.” He says as he cups your pussy. His fingers breach your cunt while his thumb plays with your clit. You moan loudly. Your cunt contracting around his thick fingers, his thumb taunting your sensitive clit over and over again.

After getting you to cum twice on his fingers, Thomas decided to shove his cock in your pulsating cunt, feeling your orgasm before he pounds your pussy. Your walls hugging his cock and sucking him in. He kept his composure, but when your tight, velvety wet cunt was too much to handle, he released his animalistic growl before grabbing your hips and fucking into you with his hard and thick cock. He kept thrusting against your g-spot. He knew how to keep you cumming for him.

His cock sliding in and out of your wet, tight, and inviting heaven. He brought his hand between your legs, playing with your clit, twisting it, rubbing it and playing with it while rearranging your insides with his thrusts. You were cumming the fourth time when he spilt his seed inside you. Thomas Shelby was still hard, and he kept thrusting in you slowly.

You looked in his lustful blue eyes. You were stunned by his still-hard cock.

Seeing the questioning look on your face, Thomas chuckled. He had taken Viagra just to punish your insolence. He had swiped the bottle from Arthur and wanted to dabble with it. He definitely didn’t need it when he was with you, but to see you walk side to side this whole week was worth swallowing that pill. You were overstimulated from cumming, and he wasn’t going to stop just yet.

“A little pill can do wonders” Thomas quipped smirkingly.

“Please, I can’t take it anymore” you begged.

“I don’t care” Thomas pulled his hard cock out of you. And pulled himself outside the spreader bar boundary. He got up and took off one of the cuffs, unanchoring you from the headboard. He moved towards your spread legs and pushed the spreader bar to your chest. Your knees bent, leaving your cum leaking cunt bared to Thomas fucking Shelby.

“Bring you hands here”, he ordered. You resisted a little. Thomas then proceeded to cuff your hands to the spreader bar. Your hand and legs tied to the spreader bar, making Tommy’s cock jolt.

He couldn’t wait anymore. Needing to be inside you, he slid inside your warm walls, his hard cock, feeling your tight cunt consume his being. You were tied up, helpless, you were so fucking sensitive, you didn’t even know whether you stopped cumming or not. You cunt gripping his cock like a vice. Thomas Shelby kept you impaled on his cock, pushing, pounding inside you. Your arms and legs felt numb. Tommy took off your restraints and pushed you to your side. He fitted himself behind you, his legs between your legs, his cock thrusting inside you, keeping you plugged up with his cock, his cum leaking out after thrust. You were getting drowsy, but that didn’t stop Thomas Shelby from taking you, his fingers torturing your nipples, your clit, anything that might make you cum. His teeth scraped your neck and shoulder while he fucked you wildly from behind. His thrusts never faltered. He was a teenage boy on cocaine. He kept fucking you while you were asleep, his cock situated inside you, painting your insides with his seed while your body kept writhing at his demanding pace.

---

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[wonderlandleighleigh]

At risk of sounding greedy ... any chance of turning the "coffee at the Gaslight" scenes into a trilogy? I gotta know what leftovers are in Midge's fridge lol

He cannot remember the last time he had home-cooked food that he didn't make himself.

Generally, when he's not dope sick, he sticks with lean cuts of chicken and steam vegetables. Maybe some pasta sometimes. He's not much of a snacker, and generally, his work schedule means he eats out more often than he likely should. Deli sandwiches on the go. Chinese after gigs. That kind of thing.

If he thinks really hard, he's pretty sure his grandmother used to cook for him. And after that, there were homecooked meals on the farm, but beyond that, his mother hated cooking and his ex was awful at it.

But Midge, it turns out, really is the domestic goddess she purports to be, because the brisket, though it's been in the fridge for a day, is juicy and flavorful, and melts in your mouth, and the tzimmes is spiced just right; cinnamon and a little ginger. A hint of nutmeg, and tangy from a generous splash of orange juice.

And while he wasn't hungry before (dope sick, y'know), he finds himself ravenous as he scarfs the offerings down in her quiet kitchen.

Midge helps out a little, sitting next to him, eating bits of the brisket and a carrot from the tzimmes here and there.

And it's nice.

It's really, really nice to just sit here with her quietly like this.

But he's bad at silence so

"This is ridiculous," he tells her. "How did you learn to cook like this?"

She shrugs and grins. "Practice. I wanted to bag a husband, after all. I had to learn to feed one."

Lenny chuckles a little and shakes his head as he chews.

Midge gets to her feet and wanders over to the counter where fresh coffee is has just finished brewing and pours them each a cup.

"Thank you for this," he says quietly as she walks back over, setting the cups down.

"Well, you're looking a little like you've been on a hunger strike," she jokes gently. "And they don't serve food at the Gaslight, and even if they did, I'm pretty sure it'd be a health hazard."

"Likely." He glances at her, a little awkwardly. "So. After I've finished stuffing my face...what do we do then?"

Midge smiles a little and reaches out, stroking the hair at his temple. "Sleep."

"Or."

"Nope."

"No?"

"No," she shakes her head. "You look like you haven't slept in days. You need rest, and we need to take this slow."

Lenny nods, considering that. "I guess you're probably right..."

"We haven't spoken in almost three months," Midge points out as she sips her coffee. "And in all honesty, we don't know that much about each others' lives."

"What's there to know?"

"What's your daughter's name?" she asks him, point blank.

He shoves a large forkful of brisket in his mouth, chewing it slowly as he contemplates the pros and cons of getting into this. "Kitty," he says finally. "Well, it's a nickname, but her real name is a little...her mother picked it."

"Kitty's a cute name," Midge smiles.

Lenny nods. "Your kids?"

"Ethan and Esther," she tells him.

He wrinkles his nose. "Two E's?"

"Mhm. If we'd had a third, it would have either been Edith or Eli," Midge informs him.

HIs nose wrinkles harder, making her laugh.

"Hundreds of thousands of names out there, and you stick with E's?"

She shrugs. "That was part of the picture-perfect Upper West Side life. Kids whose names had alliteration, and...the perfect brisket on the dinner table for Shabbat every week, and the husband who comes home from work every evening and taking my measurements every day to make sure I stayed proportionate."

Lenny gazes at her for a long quiet moment. "Sounds awful."

"It was awful," Midge agrees. "And I didn't realize it until he left."

He nods. "My marriage was awful in wildly different ways than yours. My wife was a stripper who decided to keep stripping even after we had Kitty. Which came with wanting to see other people, or invite other people into our bed, and pushing me to see other people, and then there was the drugs...the push for a big show business career." He thinks about all of the things that just spilled from his lips as he considers the piece of sweet potato on his fork. "There's got to be a middle ground, right? Something that's not so rigid but not so chaotic."

She smiles and takes his fork, eating part of the sweet potato before handing it back to him and sipping her coffee. "God, I hope so."

Lenny eats the rest of it and then sits back, blowing out a breath. "I cannot believe I ate so much. I think I might pass out."

"Then you'll sleep good tonight," she tells him, getting up to put everything away.

He gets to his feet to help her, putting tin foil over the dishes and putting them away. He cleans the forks and the coffee cups, and Midge decides at that moment to tuck herself in against his side, cuddling up.

"What's this?" he asks with a chuckle.

"No one ever does the dishes for me," she tells him. "Unless Zelda's here, and we have to pay her."

"Remind me to get up early and iron my pants before she gets here," he grumbles.

Midge laughs softly and leans up to kiss his jaw. "Bed."