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callofdudes · 1 year

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Hello how are you are you good? May I ask for some headcanons? Please make it longer if possible. A wonderful cook with a female reader. For Ghost Simon and (separately)Konig, please? if you do this can you tag me in the post too please? have a nice day

No I totally didn't lose this in my drafts while trying to come up with stuff. I do hope the length is ok, sorry that it took so long 😓

Y'all are wholesale today! I like it! Thank you for the request @simligul I tried to make it as long as I could so I hope you enjoy.

Female! Cook x The Tall Boys.

(Each tall boy sold separately)

Ghost:

He cannot cook to save his life. He knows how to put honey on bread and that is the extent of his knowledge.

He's gotten used to the MRE's that they're mandated to eat, but the first time you cook him a meal from scratch he falls more than he thought he ever could.

This man straight up either eats MRE's when he's at home or orders skip the dishes constantly to the point where it's kind of unhealthy.

Before you were living together he didn't know you could cook. He'd taken you out to restaurants but hadn't ever witnessed you active in a kitchen before.

So when he does...

You smile when he approached the kitchen, curious of the wonderful smells that are being produced. His nose leads him right to you in your apron with stains all over the cloth.

"What is this?" He asks, admiring the scene from the doorway and the apron you wore.

"What do you think? I'm making food."

He poked his head around and eyed the different ingredients simmering and popping in pans on the stove and his stomach cries out loudly. He looks back at you and you laugh at how he's practically begging you with his eyes. "Get out of my kitchen, I'll call you when it's done!"

He will come back every now and then to check on you (and the food).

When you finally set up the table and call him to eat he is borderline hyper. He sees all the steaming beautiful food and he will devour it all.

You are too good for him. Before he even sits down he will assure you that it looks absolutely delicious.

When he does manage to sit down and starts eating his stomach is beyond grateful. He had gotten so used to eating MRE's that he had genuine forgotten what it was like to eat a real meal. When he gets through the first three thrill bites his stomach grows three times the size. You yourself are a bit surprised by how much he ate. You barely had any leftovers to pack up.

Full of food and warm he'll hug you from behind while your washing the dishes and mutter thanks into your neck.

He'll hang around you for the rest of the evening and gratefully crash next to you in pure bliss.

From the day you first cooked for him forth Ghost longs for the days when he can return from war to your loving arms and a home cooked meal.

After going back to camp he'll occasionally mention that the food there tastes like shit compared to what you can make. This causes Soap to want to come with him on leave just to taste your food.

"I've missed you." He'll hug you close and rest against you for a while before taking off his head and stepping into the living room. Before he can even take his boots off he can smell the thick aroma of food. His stomach praises you loudly, making you giggle.

He takes off all his things and kisses you before going over to the kitchen. Again he will praise you for every bit of food on the table.

If he comes home after you've already packed up for bed, he'll check the fridge for food and there will be a little sticky note on the containers of leftovers. "Hey love. Sorry I couldn't be there to greet you. Tonight's dinner is xyz, have as much as you'd like."

He misses you when he isn't able to come back for the holidays. He loves hanging out with you around Christmas and Thanksgiving. But the food you make is so good around the holidays. He's always surprised by just how much effort you put into meals.

He tries to keep mention of you around base low. While he enjoys talking about you, he doesn't like the constant teasing from the others. But when Johnny starts to hear more about how good a cook you supposedly are, he is on his knees begging to come back to Simon's home with him for the holidays. And Simon was going to refuse, until somehow he didn't.

He thought you were going to be abrasive about all the guests when he showed up at his home with Price, Johnny, and Kyle right behind him, but you welcomed them with open arms.

Ghost smiled when you opened your arms and welcomed Price into your home. How you smiled so kindly and you were genuinely happy they were there.

There was no anger for being intruded on or barging to reach your husband, it was heartwarming to watch how you treated them.

When you'd met everyone and shaken their hands, you greeted Simon who was still taking his coat off. But that didn't matter. You pulled him into a short kiss before urging him toward the couch.

Simon and Price tried to help you with setting up the guest bedroom but you weren't having it.

"You lot must be exhausted. Sit, I'll have supper prepared in an hour." Simon smiled. "You're wonderful." You shoved him down onto the couch. "Rest, hang out with your friends." And you walked off to start preparing the guest room for the three.

You were right to assume they were exhausted. They tore their gear off and settled down on the couches. Finally getting to watch some good TV.

They didn't bother to move for the rest of the evening until you called them to dinner.

"Dinner is served boys!"

Kyle and Johnny were the first ones up and sprinting for the kitchen. Their stomachs empty of anything but the McDonald's they'd had early before their flight out.

Johnny was in heaven when he came in and saw the food. It was enough to feed a small army. He grabbed your hands and shook them roughly. "Oh Mrs. Riley you're an angel." You chuckled and handed him a plate as Simon and Price came in to inspect the food. "Take as much as you'd like, don't worry about leftovers and if I need to make more I can."

"Thank you ma'am." Price served himself.

Once they'd vacated the kitchen Simon gave you another kiss and took what the boys had left. "Do you want any?" He asked.

"Have it darling. You deserve it."

The boys were impressed with your cooking the first time. But when the 25 of December rolled around three days later it was a feast. You were happy to have Simon's friends along with your family for Christmas.

"Any friend of Simon's is a friend of mine. You are always welcome in our home."

Jokingly you get Simon a cookbook for Christmas so he can take it to the base with him. Whenever he gets the chance to go shopping (which is rarely) at least he'll be able to make something comprehendable with the foods.

Simon does eventually ask you to teach him to cook. And you'd thought he'd never ask. You started with basic recipes, something he could remember easily and come back to. A starter. And then you got out of hand. Sauce all over your apron and Simon getting his oil covered fingers all over you.

You taught him to bake as well. Because who else is going to make the 141 cookies? You couldn't keep sending them in boxes every month when mail slots opened up.

Simon enjoys baking more than cooking. He will lick all the utensils. If you're making chocolate cookies he'll lick the spoon/spatula/whisk, whatever you used he'll lick it clean. And you need to constantly supervise him when baking because will 100% eat raw cookie dough without fear of consequences.

"Simon! Don't eat that! You'll get sick!"

"fuck off!" He'll say as he playfully pushes you away and grabs another handful of dough.

If he ever comes across a dish he likes or thinks he'd like, he'll send a picture of it to you. When he goes to Mexico Rodolfo takes care of meals for the group and If Ghost likes something he'll hint you off like, "Hey Y/N, look at this really delicious looking dish... A shame I'll only be able to eat it once. Unless..."

Another thing he enjoys about it, is not just the food. But watching you cook. You have a smile on your face the whole time and you seem in utter bliss to cook for you, him, or anyone else.

And the apron.

Teasingly pulling on the strings from behind you or helping you take it off. It's small but it manages to mesmerize him every time.

If you are part of the military most of this still stands, when you first cool for him and the boys he's stunned and amazed. Maybe he's a little annoyed that you didn't start making food sooner when everyone was bitching and moaning about MRE's.

In the very, very, very rare instances where Simon is sick you're the type to not let him out of bed. Simon is either so sick he's unable to move or he can power through it, there is no difference to you. You'll lay him in bed and bring in a warm bowl of soup. And while Simon protests you'll cup his jaw and help him eat.

"I don't need help-"

"Shh, lay down Simon, let me take care of you."

"I hate how sweet you are."

"I love you too."

König:

König knows a little about cooking, but not a lot. His mother taught him him how to make basic cultural dishes including some sweets.

He enjoys cooking on the occasion but the military doesn't offer him much for culinary adventure. So he's become less fluent. Put him in a kitchen however and he could make you a warm meal from his heart.

When you first cook for him, his mouth is watering. He's absolutely starving when he gets home from base and his surprise when he came to see you and your house was swimming with the smells of culinary love.

He'll slip into the kitchen and eyeball all the stuff that's going on. In a heartbeat he's on his knees for whatever your making.

"Darling- please! I haven't eaten a proper meal in so long!"

"Get out of my Kitchen König, I will call you when it's ready. Just rest."

This man will sit by the corner of your kitchen. He will make sure he's pressed up against the wall but not entering the space. He'll crawl into a ball and whimper to make sure you remember he's sitting there.

"König, it'll only take a couple of minutes." You chuckled when he starts to slowly drag himself back into the kitchen hoping you wouldn't notice.

When you finish up he is giving you the biggest puppy eyes he can. It's as if his irises grew in size, they're practically sparkling when you motion with your finger and he jumps up. "YES! Thank you!"

He grabs a plate and doesn't hold back to shovel food onto his plate and rush to the table to consume it all. There is barely enough for you this big boy took so much.

He's scarfing it down when you take your seat and all you can do is just lovingly stare at him. His eyes are practically glazed over when he tastes it on his tongue.

"Darling, this is absolutely amazing, thank you."

"You're welcome König, you deserve it."

This man goes into a full food comma. When he's out his plate in the dishwasher he goes and passes out on the couch. You find it absolutely adorable.

He's just passed out. Usually when König comes back home it takes him at least a day or two to take the hood off and another couple to full relax. But tired and full it's the first time you've seen him throw his hood on the coffee table and just pass out without a worry.

You're not even complaining.

König and you exchange recipes. While you teach him some of the dishes he doesn't know how to make, he'll show you how to make dishes from his home.

When he gets back he will not shut up about you. He won't tell new recruits or other members unless their already friends, subject of his anxiety. But he loves to talk about you with his small group of friends and his operatives team. You're his shining light.

When he starts digging into military food again his head is just filling with all the ways you could cook this so much better and slop in a tube was just as bad as it was when he first signed up.

He finds himself getting particularly homesick now whenever he eats food that is not cooked by you. He always thinks about the dish and it will relate back to you in some way.

After König teaches you to make his favorite sweets, you make sure to send him a tightly sealed box of them every month for him. (If they can survive over time ofc)

He shares with his team because he wants them to also taste your baking and cooking. He will proudly tell them how wonderful you are and after tasting the sweets they all agree.

König is a little more lenient with his leave time, so he gets to see you somewhat more often then others. When he returns again around Thanksgiving he isn't expecting utterly extravagant meal he finds.

He slouched against the door, tired and gross. He looks up when you come over. Your apron on and your hair up. You gasp when you see him. "I thought you were coming back tomorrow?"

König tiredly shakes his hand and opens his arms for you to rush into. He's sore but he hugs you tightly. You smell of freshly baked goods and spices. He breathes you in deeply and he knows he's home. He sighs and nuzzles his forehead against yours.

"I've got food on the table love, come join whenever you're ready."

"Thank you meine liebe."

When he does join you he takes in all the smells of home. His mind and his body starting to relax just at the hand of the fruits of your labor.

You guide him to the table and get him a plate. The area is well lit when he returns to make him feel comfortable.

The two of you will talk as he eats. And it's not unusual for him to go back for seconds or thirds. Sometimes if he's extra hungry he'll raid the pantry for food.

Crashing in bed after a warm meal is the best feeling. His stomach sated, he wraps his arms around you and feels his worries slip away.

You crawl in bed next to him and snuggle up against him. "Goodnight" and despite his food coma, König pulls you to his chest, content to stay here forever.

When he's on leave he offers to bring Horangi back to stay with you both, just so you can taste the food. He has no plans for his leave except sitting in the kitchen and enjoying whatever warm meal you've set up for him.

Bringing Horangi back then were both incredibly excited about your cooking. König could almost taste it and Horangi had heard many good things.

You were overjoyed to have Horangi over and cooked a feast for the two. Horangi's mouth was watering and all König could say was "Seeeee!"

Both König and Horangi sit by the kitchen entrance, watching you like cats going back and forth, back and forth.

The smell of the food is not lost on them when you bring them into the kitchen finally. Seeing everything you've prepared.

"This looks stunning ma'am, thank you a thousand times for having me." Horangi took your hands and squeezed them, unable to contain his excitement. Or his hunger. His stomach started to snarl before he could finish his expression of gratitude.

You once again stand back and let the men eat what the want. You weren't at all surprised when Horangi had just the appetite that König did.

It was funny watching them talk while they feasted, occasionally melting and having a brain aneurysm over how good it was.

Compared to the food on base, Horangi will now get on his knees and kiss the ground you walk on. You are a fucking angel for taking care of him when he comes over.

He will not stop talking about "König's wife can cook!! And you don't get any of it, because you're not invited! 😏"

König is just glad you're there for his friends, willing to provide hospitality and food. You can't turn down anyone it seems.

But he wouldn't change that about you.

He loves to dance in the kitchen with you. If you're cooking something and you have music in the background, König will come over, hands cupping your waist and drawing you toward him.

"And what are you doing??" You hold a spatula covered in sauce up to him and he licks it happily. "What does it look like??" You pulls you in and twirls you around the kitchen.

"König, watch out for the stove." You giggle.

He keeps turning and spinning you, pressing kisses to your throat and cheeks.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too you big goof."

He smiles, nuzzling against your neck, the smell of the spices imprinting on your skin. They must have. After you've cooked an apple pie you still smell of cinnamon. And it drives him crazy.

König loves you so much, he wouldn't dream his life any other way. And certainly not without you in it. He gives you another kiss and you shove him out of your kitchen.

"Food isn't really yet."

"But looooove-!" He whines.

"No, you'll have to wait. Like a good boy." You smirk.

He huffs, but he can't say no to that. So he plops down and sits longingly at the entrance of the kitchen, watching you as you cook.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #konig headcanons #konig x reader #könig headcanons #könig cod #könig x reader

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ef-1 · 7 months

Text

Transcribed Excerpts from Christian Horner's hour long Interview that are batshit insane and so narratively dense you'd think they're lifted wholesale from a book, featuring:

The most in depth, behind the scenes view of what transpired in 2018

Fords CEO getting in touch with Dax to gush about how much he likes Daniel

Christian feeling vindictive towards Daniel

Christian comparing Sebastian and Max

Christian comparing Daniel to Roger Federer

How Christian had to mitigate Helmut's shitshow and personally asking Dietrich to give Daniel everything he wanted

Hilarious rapid fire in the end and his perspective on the failure of Ferrari

●●● <- indicates a time skip

Dax: In tennis you see guys when they lose steam, they break apart.

Christian Horner : you see that with checo.

●●●

[Dax mentions that in Christian's position, a lot of people would not have invited Daniel back into the family. "Because Daniel turned his back on the family." ]

Christian: Daniel's a great guy. Very badly advised in his early career. Everybody fucks up at some point. I think he recognizes that he made a mistake. He didn't have good advice around him at the point he left us. Having spent time outside the family he realized what he had here was actually good. It was horrible to see that it got worse and worse after us. It was actually this time last year in Mexico where I sat down with him in my hotel room, I told him you need a complete reset- take a year out. Come back to us.

Dax: He's such a win for you guys.

Christian: Totally.

Dax: you sent Daniel to Jim Farley [ CEO of Ford] and I know Jim Farley and he got in touch with me and told me "That Daniel Ricciardo guy is the greatest!" I'm like to him: he's the dream, send him anywhere.

●●●

Christian: He's [Daniel] a confidence driver, when he's got his mojo, he one of the fastest guys on the grid.

Dax: he's lethal.

Christian: yep.

Dax: he's got that magic thing that people either have or don't have in my opinion which is: there are winners and there are not winners

[you're not ready for this lol]

Christian: He came to us, he's one of our juniors, I remember going to watch him in formula 3, he really stood out. Very smooth. Just great. Naturally. Like a Roger Federer kind of style behind the wheel, very very classic. Light touch. Great, great skill. And then he came through the system [RB program] when we had Sebastian Vettel, 4 time world champion- Mark Webber retired. We chose Daniel as the Junior, with no expectation on him and he started beating Vettels ass. he won 3 races in 2014 when we had FAR from the best engine, Sebastian never won a race that year.

Dax: Even his time at Mclaren, it sucked for him but he's the only one who won a race.

Christian: He IS the only one who won a race.

Dax: and for a long time now.

Christian: and Renault he had great performances. [...] he's got to feel the love. He's got to feel comfortable in the environment that he's in. Some of his races for us were- absolutely outstanding.

●●●

[Christian about the 2018 negotiations]

Christian: I asked Dietrich to show Daniel love. Helmut was obviously pro Max, I said if you could just balance things out, let him [Daniel] know you want him. Dietrich said "no problem, I'll talk to him" so he took Daniel upstairs after the race in Austria to talk to him, and they were there for well over an hour.

Dax: To the point you were nervous?

Christian: I thought SHIT! But they reappear, and they're both smiling, I tell him: "Dietrich, how did it go?" He says,"No problem, don't worry about it. It's not even a question [that daniel would leave]"

Christian: Then we went to Germany, and his engine blew up. His engine kept letting him down, letting him down, letting him down. But from there, we went to Hungary, and we got his paperwork [Daniel's contract] for a TWO year deal all sorted out. Daniel's manager came to me and said 'listen Daniel is nervous about the engine' because we were going to switch to Honda so his manager said: 'he'll do ONE year' I thought wow. That's not really what we talked about, because in 6 months we'll be having the same conversation. So I remember I went back to Dietrich, and I said, "it's about relationships. It's NOT about contracts. If he wants a one year contract, give him a one year contract," so at this point: he's got everything he wants. Also, at that point, Daniel was doing a test for us after the Hungarian race, I thought Daniel will sign the paperwork on Monday, suddenly Monday goes and he's in the car on Tuesday. I'm starting to smell something because this is an enormous deal, you'd have thought he'd be in a rush to sign this contract. And he didn't sign the contract before he got in the car in the morning and I thought he'd sign by lunchtime but it didn't happen. He had to get out of the car and go straight to the airport because he's flying from here to LA and I thought he'll call me. I'm feeling something at this point.

Dax: you know you're about to be broken up with.

Christian: yeah.

Dax: if your girlfriend didn't show up to lunch then dinner-

Christian: exactly. So- he [daniel] rings me, I was in the car with Geri, he tells me "I just got off the plane, I arrived in LA, and I've been thinking on the flight, all the way here- I'm not going to sign the contract. I'm going to take another contract. [...] he tells me Renault? The engine that let him down for 2 years? I was convinced, I was CONVINCED- because Daniel has got a sense of humour- I thought- he's taking the piss. I thought come on. I told him: come on. There is no way. You're not going to Renault, stop fucking about, just sign the contract. After 10 minutes he finally persuaded me that he was going to Renault. It was disappointing.

Dax: I wanna applaude you, because a lot of people who go through that experience think: fuck you.

Christian: there was an element of that. I thought: go and suck on a lemon for a bit. But actually during the pandemic, I remember he called me and said "Christian I hate to say this to you but you were right"

•••

Christian thinks Max > Vettel

Christian about Alex and Pierre being teammates with Max: he broke them

[Very confused in this part because Christian like? Says the best thing for Checo to perform is to forget about Max, stop trying to compete with him, stop looking at his data? Girl you are NOT selling it rn]

•••

When Christian is asked to analyse Red Bull's champions, he thinks Sebastian and Max are diametrically opposed . Sebastian is your stereotypical German, he would be at the track until 11 to analyse data. Max is not interested in all the detail [devasting news for all the bitches who spent years trying to dunk on Daniel by calling him not technical, Christian seems to think that Daniel and Max share a natural ability that doesn't rely on data.] He [Max] Gives you just what he needs to go faster. Max hates testing, has no interest in it.

●●●

Christian confirms he has a lucky toilet.

●●●

Christian says in 2014-18 Red Bull came this 🤏 close to selling to Audi.

●●●

Christian: Drive to Survive is the Kardashians on wheel

●●●

Christian: You get characters like Gunther Steiner. How scary is he. He used to work for us, I had to be the one to fire him.

●●●

Christian on why he believes Ferrari have failed over the last 15 years: Ferrari is a national institution instead of a Team. It needs to become a racing team again. Too many people have input at the top.

#it like. reads like fanfic #this team is so fucked up none of this can be healthy #what makes him tick #its all very insane. Machiavellian!Christian... be very afraid.#i wish Christian didnt speak about seb like that. just be more respectful. he clearly has his favourites #f1 #daniel ricciardo #Christian horner #brazilian gp 2023

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zmediaoutlet · 3 months

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Hey Liz! Have you ready any good spn fic lately? :)

I have, and in fact I've been spite-reading. Have a curated wincest rec list you could share with anyone you like:

Bad Blood by astolat

Rating: E Word Count: 3,718 Summary: "Fuck me or I'm going to die isn't the world's best pickup line." // "I've heard worse," Dean said. // "You've used worse," Sam said.

Original post date, 02/22/2007

Reccing because: No wincest primer would be complete without an astolat rec. You probably get fined by the Wincest FCC, otherwise. The flaw in astolat’s wincest, if we’re allowed to say such things about our saint and founder, is that Sam and Dean would sometimes fall into the whole thing super easily — this fic dispenses with that problem with a good ol’ classic dose of evil sex pollen, and if magic makes them do it then it could be a hell of a lot worse than how delightfully they do it here. I’m laughing out loud just remembering one of the scenes. Joys.

Coast On Through by philalethia

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 7,857 Summary: A post-first-time fic. With a lot of sex.

Original post date, 12/22/2007

Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest fic. Though the characterization is of its 2007 time, the Winchesters still feel like themselves, and more important feel like adults who are trying to navigate their very odd circumstances. A real classic of the brothers-with-benefits genre.

Keep Our Minds on the Sum of Each Other by lazy_daze

Rating: E Word Count: 9,593 Summary: N/A; provided tags are Bodyswap

Original post date, 12/26/2007

Reccing because: What a cheerful fuckin’ fic this is, for a fic about incestuous fuckin’. This takes the apocalyptic stakes and reels them back to a just deeply entertaining romp. Not too worried about the plot and much more worried about how hot these two are when they slam together, it’s a refreshingly non-angsty take on what it means that you just want to slurp on your brother wholesale.

Filthy Mind by rivkat

Rating: E Word Count: 26,384 Summary: Dean acquires unwelcome nightly visitors. Set post-Hell, without details as to how that happens.

Original post date, 10/07/2008

Reccing because: RivkaT is perhaps the all-time understander of the Weird Affect of Dean Winchester (As Played By Jensen Ackles) and the entirely destabilizing effect that affect has on the world. A real reality-warper. This fic deals with non-con and dub-con and who-knows-what-con and everything in between in a way that is more thoughtful than tawdry (although you can certainly enjoy the tawdriness as presented and the fic does not judge you for that). It also, thrillingly, deals with Sam’s alarm about the whole thing in a way which is fairly unflinching: he wants and does not want to want and also just really, really desperately wants-- Fans of Sheila’s analysis will probably enjoy this one.

seeing double by candle_beck

Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 5,127 Summary: Dean has a concussion and his better senses come and go.

Original post date, 04/24/2009

Reccing because: I know there are more famous and more favored c_b fics, but this one is such a supremely perfect scene that it should be at the top of all c_b rec lists. It isn’t the catastrophic misery or assholery or intensity of some of the other big hitters but this just has this searingly true and singular experience coursing through it: to wit, that Dean is hurt and Sam is upset and then sorry and then in love. Which isn’t a half-bad summary of Supernatural itself, really.

The incestuous courtship of the antichrist’s bride by fleshflutter

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 48,000 Summary: Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. He has a small army of angels and demons, he has an adoring cult, he has a work of prophecy by Jack Kerouac, and he has Dean. Things are going pretty well until he accidentally signs Dean up as his Beloved Consort, a role that requires sex with the Antichrist on an altar. And that's when things stop going pretty well. Also, the soundtrack to the Apocalypse sucks.

Original post date, 06/08/2009

Reccing because: It is so, so rare to find crack fics that work. This is crack treated like crack and also taken entirely seriously, which is a rare balance to find. When it needs to be horror it works, when it needs to be ridiculous it works, when it needs to be hot as fuck it works, and never has the phrase ‘apocalyptic cock’ been so appropriate and so wonderful in context.

I’ve Got A Hand For You by Edwardina

Rating: E Word Count: 14,938 Summary: Sam's inexperience is showing, and Dean helps the best way he knows how.

Original post date, 03/12/2010

Reccing because: This is underage par excellence, as wonderfully weird and vaguely creepy and hot and alarming as it should always be. Dean’s 19 and Sam’s 14 and they should not but they are, and if that isn’t just a summary of Supernatural as a whole I don’t know what is. On the face of it this is a vaguely gnasty first time fic, but what sets this one apart is how earnestly real it is — the grimy-but-not-OTT reality of the details, Sam’s goofy kiddishness being complicated by the reality of what hormones are and do, Dean’s too-cool-ness alleviated by the fact that he’s nineteen and therefore still an idiot, trying earnestly to help and getting it wrong and getting it very right, all at the same time. The attention to detail here just knocks me over with a feather. Gorgeous work.

Two Part Invention by De_Nugis

Rating: T Word Count: 6,938 Summary: Dean settles down, Sam finds him, they settle some things.

Original post date, 12/25/2010

Reccing because: I very much appreciate a fic that, on the face of it, seems like an OOC premise, and then as soon as you think about it for fifteen seconds you realize — oh, of course, of course that’s how it should be and how it would go. This fic delivers on that feeling in spades. There’s a deep appreciation here for how complicated Sam Winchester is and how strange and hard it would be to have his life, and zero judgment, really, for what he and Dean have to do to make that life tenable. I appreciate the subtlety here so much.

Top This by leonidaslion

Rating: E Word Count: 4,076 Summary: Dean's sure he's a top. Only problem is, Sam's pretty sure that's his job …

Original post date, 04/10/2011

Reccing because: Is this crack? It surely is. Is it PWP? You bet. Is it in character? To be honest it hardly matters, but despite the context and conceit it does manage, somehow, to kinda feel like Sam and Dean Winchester from the canon of the show Supernatural, and that is a trick that earns it a spot on this list. Especially the way Sam goes slightly smug there at the end. Delights.

It’s the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu

Rating: E Word Count: 38,400 Summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments.

Original post date, 10/09/2011

Reccing because: Time travel fic is fun as hell, and time travel fic that just soaks you in dramatic irony is even more fun, and more importantly time travel fic where the time traveler doesn’t have all the answers is best of all. Very little is better than Dean being somewhat at sea and Sam loving him fiercely and this fic delivers that in spades. I could only wish it were a little longer, which is a very, very rare statement from me.

The Fall Will Probably Kill You by killabeez

Rating: M Word Count: 6,773 Summary: Set between 7.04 and the aftermath of 7.07. Dean is not as okay as he'd like you to think. Neither is Sam.

Original post date, 11/06/2011

Reccing because: This fic is thoroughly in and of and intensely about season 7, which I adored and which doesn’t get enough credit from the fandom. It deals with the Sam’s Insanity arc in a way that’s angstier and ficcier than the show itself but it does so in this stupendous and murderously flat way. Dean is at his wit’s end and Sam is, too, but Sam’s finding a way to deal with it, and Sam will not compromise on what dealing with it means, and we’re all just forced to live with it. Fantastic reading experience, especially for the almost literal jumpscare you get about 2/3s through.

The Hunter Games by theproblematique

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 92,601 Summary: When the infamous Winchester bad luck strikes twice in quick succession Sam and Dean are forced to compete in the most brutal reality TV show ever created. It’s impossible to escape the battlefield, hiding can only be temporary, and alliances inside those dark, bloodstained woods last about as long as it takes for the other Hunter to figure out how to use your weapons. And then kill you with them.

Original post date, 06/22/2012

Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest AU fic. We’re mostly all familiar with the source material, but this work blends the universe of the Hunger Games with the characterization & destiny of the Winchester boys in a way that’s extremely satisfying. The author’s other works are recced more often, but this piece is more deserving of a place as One Of Those Reclist Fics.

Kevin Tran for President by glovered

Rating: T Word Count: 11,714 Summary: Dean comes back from Purgatory to find Sam working as a barista at a coffee shop near Princeton, watching over Kevin Tran.

Original post date, 10/04/2012

Reccing because: Sometimes you just need a post-Purgatory fic that isn’t brutal. This story’s a light-hearted trip-along froth like most of glovered’s work, but there’s something in specific about this unfraught coming-together that makes it incredibly readable. Dean and Sam aren’t entirely on the same page but the relief of reunion makes everything else fade a little into the distance, and the charming little job they find themselves on here gives enough of an excuse for them to figure some things out. Also probably the best Cas & Meg side characters in a fic, so there’s that too.

Clear and simple and plain by Trojie

Rating: E Word Count: 1,893 Summary: After Sam gives up the Trials, things start getting better.

Original post date, 10/26/2013

Reccing because: This is a post-Trials fic where things don’t go incredibly wrong, which is a nice AU to sit in for a while. What’s impressive about this story, written in the time it was, is that it manages to presage the ~s11 era marriage very well indeed, in tone and vibe and even some content. They’re in the bunker and things aren’t perfect, but they’re together, and that’s a kind of perfection of its own. It isn’t sugary but it’s the kind of adult complex sweetness that makes one feel better, anyway.

hello by allwellandgood (formerly askance)

Rating: T Word Count: 4,128 Summary: There's a woman at the grocery store named Evelyn who always rings him up on the days he ventures out for food and she knows him, or likes to think she does. I hope you're not too lonely, she'll say. He chooses not to tell her that his dead brother sleeps at his feet every night. He'd rather not be the cause of her inevitable heart attack.

Original post date, 08/11/2014

Reccing because: So Dean’s dead. Everyone dies at some point. This fic is a beautifully soft and tender and bitterly kind way to deal with that. You feel Sam’s loss deep in your chest but it’s okay, because this is the world of Supernatural and there are options, and the relief he gets pours over like cool water. Not enough, and it’s not fixed, but it’s not as much of a misery as it was.

The Time Traveler’s Brother by amypond45

Rating: R Word Count: 55,458 Summary: Dean's life is turned upside down the night his mother dies. But that's also the night a mysterious grown-up version of Dean's brother first appears in his life. While Dean grows up, "Old Sam" is often there, especially when Dean's father isn't, and as Dean learns what the future holds, he begins to question everything his father has taught him about who he is and what he is supposed to become. Can Dean find a way to save his little brother from his own future? This pre-series AU follows Dean from age four to eighteen.

Original post date, 02/26/2015

Reccing because: It’s rare to have an AU so thoroughly engage with what the alternate universe it constructs means for characterization and plot. This does something outstanding with the Sam and Dean (and Deans) created by the conceit, but also uses that conceit to do something entirely new with the canon plot that just flips me over every time I remember it. There are some fantastic character insights here, both complimentary and not, but I’ll never be over the specific scene of young!Dean looking up at older!Dean and being disappointed. That’s him, that’s our little angst machine.

The King of Imperfections Takes Back the Prince of Mistakes: a fairy tale by britomart_is

Rating: E Word Count: 4,822 Summary: And they lived happily ever after.

Original post date, 06/06/2016

Reccing because: The summary is pretty much the summary and that’s such a relief, sometimes. They’re awful and stupid and they’re in love and love isn’t enough except it is, and they’re so friggin’ MARRIED in the most wonderful and dorky way. They have good-bad sex and they have idiot arguments and they’ve made it. Back in 2016 this seemed like the best possible option. Reading this story feels like reading 4800 words of relief.

Raw Food Diet by themegalosaurus

Rating: E Word Count: 2,959 Summary: Sam has one more meeting today. This one isn’t in his diary; not the public calendar everyone at the firm can access, nor the private one on his cell.

Original post date, 02/14/2019

Reccing because: If you were looking for depressing and almost revolting Lebanon AU, you’re in luck. This is serial killer!Dean at his worst and Sam Jobs at his (still slightly martyred) almost-worst and it’s the frankly gross and logical conclusion to: what would it mean, if those two horrible shitheads were still together, somehow or some way? It’s always almost a relief when fic manages to do a not-happy ending and this definitely does that. Refreshing, in its way, though you might want a shower after.

Ions in the Ether by nigeltde

Rating: E Word Count: 10,860 Summary: When was the last time you trusted happy.

Original post date, 03/12/2019

Reccing because: For any s2 obsessives as our author here is, this is a deep and alarming and inside-out dive into the obsession with a brother and with monstrousness and with what’s true and what’s not and also can you tell the difference, after all. A murky swirl through a shithole town, this fic picks and pries at wincest-as-concept in a way that’s somewhat achy and alarming and is overall delightful, if you’re willing to take the time to think about it. Plus Sam’s hot, which is of course a bonus.

there will be better days by deadlybride

Rating: E Word Count: 9,430 Summary: Sam and Dean settle into their heaven.

Original post date, 11/24/2020

Reccing because: I’m crass. But also I can’t think of another fic that feels as much like heaven as this one and I wanted heaven on the list.

#wincest #fic recs #happy wincest wednesday #this is partly borne from an absolutely shitty reclist i saw the other day lol #i admit to being powered by spite #Those Reclist Fics have a weird power over fandom #and i want better stuff to get read #so! read these!#and comment while you're at it

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calypso707 · 5 months

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hey i adore your writing!

i was wondering how astarion would take care of his s/o who suffers from migraines and severe photosensitivity. my friends always call me a vampire because of it so i thought it’d be a funny dynamic 😆

this one is actually funny because i suffer from migraines as well, so here we are! I don't know if I'm proud of what I've written, but it was fun to do! enjoy! ❤

OS - Astarion x gn drow reader : Simple things.

Living on the surface had proved more complicated than the Underdark. Being born, growing up and spending a significant part of your life in the darkness had certainly had its advantages, but now that you were living on the surface, you realised just how different things were. Whether it was people's lifestyles or all those bright colours. So yes, there were bright colours in the Underdark, but they were often signs of danger, such as explosive mushrooms or plants releasing deadly spores.

You may have been used to the dark and could see in the night better than your companions, but constant exposure to the sun had its drawbacks. So, sure, it was nice to feel the light warming your skin, you could now appreciate things like the colour of the sky, listen to birdsong or even hear the sound of the wind, but your eyes still couldn't handle so much brightness. And on top of that, you had a tadpole in your skull that was not only making its own little nest but was also giving you migraines on a regular basis.

But you still tried to stay positive, because thanks to all the adventures you'd been through, however farfetched, you'd met your current companions, who had turned out to be loyal allies and faithful friends.

And above all, you had met Astarion.

A magnificient two-century-old vampire.

It was almost poetic, two beings of darkness who found themselves having to survive under the sun. So what was it between you two? It was a tricky question, but you cared about him as much as he cared about you, and knowing that was more than enough. Though, Astarion was handling the conditions and opportunities this adventure offered him better than you were. He had always loved sunbathing as soon as the first lights appeared. You enjoyed them too, but in small doses.

While you were enjoying a moment's respite from this chaotic and probably deadly mission, you had given yourselves a break and were strolling through the alleys of Baldur's Gate. Astarion was describing the things his former master, Cazador Szarr, had made him do, a certain bitterness in his voice. You tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but the sun was at its zenith, there were no clouds in the sky to dim its brightness and you felt as if your eyes were burning and your skull was splitting in two.

"Are you even listening when I am talking to you?", grumbled Astarion.

"Sorry… Can we take a short break?" you asked, using your hand to shade your eyes as you looked at him.

"My dear, are you sure that you are not a vampire?" said Astarion with a smirk.

"Hilarious" you sighed.

You took a few steps into the shadow under a stall on the main street leading to the Wyrm's Rock fortress. Astarion was looking at you with a slightly concerned expression; he seemed to be thinking.

"Hm.. I think I have an idea. Stay put." It was almost an order.

Before you could reply, he was heading off into "Carm's Garm" shop. You wondered what had gone through his mind. You decided to wait for him and you leaned against the stone wall behind you, watching the passers-by go about their business, carefree. You listened the trout seller shouting about how fresh his fish were and the wholesaler who was delighted with his harvest.

Long minutes passed, during which you examined everyone who passed in the street. You didn't hear Astarion come back, and you were startled when he cleared his throat once he was beside you. You looked at him and noticed that he was holding several hats under his arms. You tried to hide your smile but it was complicated.

"Let's see…" He put the pile of accessories at his feet and picked up a first hat and placed it on your head. It was a sort of pointy wizard's hat with hideous embroidery that went all the way around, and before you could even give your opinion, Astarion took it off, shaking his head and frowning. "Awful"

He then picked up a sort of adjustable steel helmet, and didn't even take the time to let you try it on before he tossed it aside, doing the same with a brightly coloured top hat. Finally, he took a simple brown hat with silver wings embroidered on the stiff leather and placed it on your head as gently as possible. The brim of the hat was wide enough to keep your face in the shade.

He stood back and examined you for a few seconds, his index finger resting on his chin: "Hm.. I think this one will do, darling. Of course, I still am the fashion icon of our group, but I can assure you you are not far from it now."

You readjusted your hat slightly and took a long look at him, biting your lower lip to hold back your smile. You were pleasantly surprised by his gesture and his words made you chuckle. Astarion moved closer to you and put his hands on your shoulders, pressing them lightly as you put yours against his chest.

"I am impressed, so you are able to do sweet things." you said.

"Sweet? What an idea" He grinned before tilting his head to the side, a thin smile on his lips. "It just should not be so unbearable to enjoy the simple things of life."

And he was right.

═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═

thanks for reading this OS, i hope you liked it!

don't hesitate to read my other writings on Astarion! ❤

Astarion x gn druid tav : On your skin.

Astarion x gn tav : No place for love.

Astarion x gn tav : A thousand thanks.

Fiction - Astation x fem!tav bard : Fruit of The Poisonned Tree

#romance #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion vampire #baldur's gate iii #astarion x gn reader #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion my beloved #astarion ancunin #astarion x gn!tav

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idsb · 2 months

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okay so I just saw a tiktok about this and it had like, 20 views, so I'd just like to post here and raise some awareness here about how UMG's greed has now extended from shitty merch, to the exciting new ~*fucking over indie record stores*~ as well!!!!

A record store in upstate NY just kind of whistle-blew about this, by announcing the fact that they were only just now able to take preorders for The Tortured Poets Department. In their post, they explained that they'd be able to take orders from March 14th, but couldn't openly post about it or share that info until March 18th - after opening weekend of The Eras Tour Movie on streaming (aka an added boost of attention to Taylor and therefore, preorder sales). In this post, they fully blamed UMG for this, and also noted that the prices in their store are going to look incredibly more expensive than buying directly from UMG and Taylor's online merch store (Taylor's online merch store, which, notably, people are losing trust in for preorders due to the fact that for most people, the albums are consistently not arriving until over a month after the album release day). Why are the indie store's prices going to be so much more expensive? Well, that's because, instead of selling the albums to record stores at wholesale (a lower price a manufacturer sells to retail stores at so that the sellers can make a profit, which how it works for literally any retail store selling anything in the history of all retail stores), UMG is charging record stores FULL RETAIL VALUE on Tortured Poets Department CD's and vinyls in order to sell them. This means in order to make ANY kind of profit, indie stores have to add on $10+ to the price as compared to what Taylor's merch store, aka UMG, is directly selling it at. Leaving a customer who discovers this to either feel scammed by the indie store, or just purchase it from Taylor's store / UMG directly online instead.

I do not think Taylor, miss free surprise shipments of signed folklore's sent out to indie record stores to make sure they stay afloat during the pandemic, miss donating hundreds of thousands of dollars to Nashville based indie record stores to keep them open during the pandemic, would be very happy about any of this. I also know it's going to get blamed on her, and lumped in with some "a million vinyl variants billionaire greed", rhetoric, and it makes me so damn sad when I know it's the exact opposite of what she'd want. I'm happy she gets to own her masters but holy shit am I sad that she has less control over the things that actually matter in terms of fan consumerism, and I hope she is too and I hate that she is effectively powerless to fix it because big corporation music industry greedy label capitalism.

Fuck UMG. Fuck UMG to hell and back. Fuck them for screwing over fans, fuck them for screwing over small businesses and the dying breed of brick and mortar locations just to line their multi-billion dollar corporation pockets more than they already are. Fuck the fact that they wouldn't even need to do this if they just provided quality products that they shipped on time, but they'd rather squeeze out every last penny and don't care who they screw over in the process.

#Taylor swift #taylor nation

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elismor · 28 days

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I see a lot of posts going by about comments and kudos and hits and...well... I've been thinking about the three quite a lot lately--as both a fic author and someone who spends a lot of my professional life looking at web metrics and determining which are actually important/accurate measures of user engagement.

Mileage varies, of course. And this is all just MY opinion, so do feel free to ignore it wholesale.

What I think when I see someone say that sorting by a hits to to kudos ratio is a good way to find "good" fic:

Hits are a measure of quantity (how many times your story or art has been viewed), but without knowing how AO3 defines a hit, it's actually kind of a meaningless number. We know that our own views of our work do not count toward hits, but...if my BFF looks at my story 7 times in one day because she keeps trying to read it but getting interrupted...is that one hit, or seven? And if it's seven, then the numbers are artificially inflated because it's really just Bestie trying to get her Codex fix. And...if Bestie looks at it three times today and four tomorrow...is that 7 hits total, or two?

Some transparency on the part of AO3 could clear this up handily, but until we get that...shrug. All it is is a number that may or may not be an accurate reflection of how many actual people looked at the page your fic is on. Did they READ it? Or did they nope out? No way to know.

Kudos are intended to be slightly more qualitative, but there is no way of knowing why the reader gave them. (Similar to likes here on tumblr.) It might be that they loved the piece. It might be a simple acknowledgement that the reader was there. It might even be a pity kudo. We have no way of knowing. It's, again, just a number.

Obviously, everyone is free to interpret both hits and kudos as positive reaction/interaction. I might do that myself if I didn't spend my workdays explaining to people that 50,000 "hits" to the website could be 50K people who came to learn about us or...simply the result of the computer labs on campus having the university homepage set to default.

Bigger numbers are just that....bigger numbers.

Comments are the only objective way to judge how someone is reacting to your fic or art.

So, what then? Sort by number of comments?

You can do that, sure. (I think. I confess I have never once gotten the AO3 search to work as well as people rave about.) But do keep in mind that many authors answer their comments. So, something with, say, 20 comments may be 20 people telling the author they loved it. Or it might be ten people and ten author-replies. OR, it might be three people having a conversation in the comments. You have to look and see.

Bigger numbers are just bigger numbers.

Okay, fine Elis. What am I supposed to do then?

Look, I'm not your mother or your therapist and you are free to assign whatever meanings you like to these things. I, personally, find "good" fic through a combination of things including: recs, the fandom grapevine, dumb luck, events, and just...reading some of it and not feeling guilty if I nope out for some reason.

This all sounds a little depressing when laid out like this, huh? Especially when you take into account the downward trends in interacting and the rise of folks treating fic and art as content to be consumed.

Here's what I have learned from writing fic for 30 years (well, 28 and counting):

As an author (and an artist, I would presume), you have absolutely no way of predicting which of your work will land and take hold and which will not. It's alchemy and luck and the weird (and not actual) algorithm of fandom. Sometimes, the piece you whipped out in 30 minutes and posted on the fly will land in the right person's inbox and they will share it and their friends will share it and it will get big. Sometimes, the piece you slaved over for weeks and weeks will do that...sometimes it won't. Sometimes your genius manifests and resonates, sometimes it does not.

My personal favorite fic of my own--the one I think is probably the best thing I have done in SW fandom-- has like 8 kudos and 4 comments (2 of which are my responses). Is it disappointing? Yes. Is it an indication that the fic is objectively "bad"? No.

The mercenary in me suggests that if you want to get lots of comments and kudos, you should pick the pairing that is THE pairing in the fandom and write for that--because that's where the eyeballs are, because that's where the connections are. But that is not why I write, so it's just that--a very mercenary way of looking at things. Not that there is anything WRONG with doing it that way. Supply and demand run the world. If the people want Codywan and you want the people....give them Codywan. No shame in that.

And there is no shame in wanting or seeking validation for your work, either.

But it breaks my heart to see authors (and artists) give up on themselves when they do not receive piles of kudos and comments. It's not you. It's...the luck of the draw. It's...fandom. It's...an artificial and murky set of measurements that have almost no basis in anything meaningful.

Keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing. You are what you make, not how people respond to it.

#let's talk about fic baby #fandom #kudos and comments

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pastel-paramour · 1 year

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Mutually Assured Attachment

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.9k Tags/Content Warnings: SKK x F!Reader, Dom!Dazai, Sub!Chuuya, Sub!Reader, Voyeurism, Brief Alcohol Consumption, Brief Smoking, gun play, knife play, edging/teasing, Oral (F & M Receiving), Overstim, Gagging, Begging, Shotgunning (Smoke, Fluid) Okay... Here we go... First original post. I'm considering additional parts exploring this strange little... dynamic these silly little men have with you. Mind the tags, and away we go!

The two of you fell tangled through the door, your collar bunched in Chuuya’s fists. He kicked the door with his heel, and the resounding slam shook you loose of his lips with a breathless chuckle.

“Shhhhh! Chuuya! Someone’ll catch us!” You scolded in a stage whisper.

He leaned over you, hands roaming freely over your breasts, your ribs, your waist, your hips, all the way down to give your ass a hard squeeze, pulling you against him, his already hard cock straining against your thigh.

“Like I give a damn.” He says against your smiling lips, quickly arrested in a kiss.

You ran your hands over his shoulders as he shrugged out of his coat, and the two of you waltzed backward into the room in a clumsy tango. When you collided against the far wall, you managed to pry your body apart from his enough to get your fingers around his belt. The buckle yielded with an affirmative clink, his zipper following suit soon after. Your own remained untouched at the side seam of your skirt, Chuuya instead opting to hike the crisp black fabric up wholesale to get his access to your aching pussy.

You slung your leg over his hip and traced unintelligible patterns into the neatly starched fabric of his rapidly disheveling waistcoat. He palmed your breast, and your head thumped against the wall while he ground into you, teeth and tongue working your neck.

“Well, well, well…”

Your heart seized in your chest, Chuuya’s eyes went wide as he whirled around, fixing his fly but otherwise leaving his belt undone, “Dazai!”

Indeed, in the shadow of the doorway loomed Dazai, moonlight glinting copper in his eyes, a light smile curling his lips. You pulled your skirt down to cover yourself.

“Fraternizing between colleagues? And an executive, no less…” He tutted, “You darling, I can understand, but Chuuya… You should know better.” He brought his hand to his face, like his voice, dripping with drama.

You shrank into yourself as Dazai crossed the room. Chuuya, on the other hand, only scowled, untucked his cigarette case from his breast pocket, and took one between his lips. Dazai’s face darkened, and before Chuuya could even put away his lighter, Dazai had snatched the cigarette from his lips.

“Hey!”

“It’s rude to smoke in front of a lady.” He scolded. Only, he didn’t put it out or discard it. Instead, he took it between his own lips. The ember glowed cherry in the dark as he took a long drag and held it, snuffing the rest in an ashtray on the dresser. Dazai hooked a finger beneath Chuuya’s choker, his other hand taking his jaw. If you hadn’t known better, you would have believed Chuuya’s eyes softened, even glazed just a bit, as Dazai pulled his face to meet his; lips just shy of touching, before exhaling a rolling cloud of smoke onto his waiting tongue. Dazai’s hooked finger tugged firmly down, down, down until Chuuya sank to his knees, Dazai towering over him.

You twisted your legs together. You had never seen this side to Chuuya before. He looked completely lost to the world, but Dazai never let an eye off you.

“Like what you see, Darling?” he smirked.

Your face flushed, and you averted your eyes in a vain attempt to save face.

“Don’t be ashamed, sweetness, I’ve learned you can get Chuuya to do all kinds of amazing things.”

“Fuck you, Dazai…” Chuuya panted.

“Ohh..” Dazai whined in mock pity, and took Chuuya’s face in his hand again, “We’re getting to that. Now-”

He released all hold on Chuuya, and turned his attention to you, sweeping up your hand in his “Sweet Belladonna…” a kiss that was anything but chaste pressed to each knuckle, “Would you like me to show you his true potential?”

You were flabbergasted, quite honestly too stunned to speak. Here was Dazai, Osamu Dazai, who somehow waltzed into this room and the entire world bent around him, even, most astonishingly, Chuuya.

He huffed a small laugh at your silence, and took the initiative once again, pulling you against his chest.

“First of all, let’s put this back where it was…” His fingertips skimmed along the hem of your skirt, goosebumps raced along your thighs as he pulled the fabric up over your hips and ass. In his wanderings, his hands glanced along the delicate lace of your panties. Feigned shock lighted his face.

“Very nice…” He teased, flicking his thumb beneath the elastic. You squealed at the snap against your skin, but still you didn’t push him away. He squared his hands on your hips and turned you around to face Chuuya, who’s blue eyes shone silver to Dazai’s copper, flashing dangerously as he took in your body, and Dazai’s hands upon it.

“Then…” Dazai continued, pulling you backwards until his knees collided with the mattress. He pulled you both down so you were seated between his legs, back pressed against him. Before you knew it, his mouth was at the shell of your ear, chasing chills down your spine.

“Now here is where it gets very interesting…”

Chuuya’s eyes tracked Dazai’s bandaged hands from your hips, down your thighs, to the bend in your knees. He hooked his fingers featherlight beneath them, and pulled them apart, exposing your thinly clad cunt to the cool night air. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, eyes glazed but trained so intently on the apex of your thighs, not daring to come closer, despite so desperately wanting to.

A cool touch picked up your right hand, laying it palm up in his;

“And this is where you say-” He curled his fingers, and yours with them, “‘Come, Chuuya…’”

Chuuya, coming vaguely to his senses, sucked his teeth and moved to rise.

“Ah, ah, ah…” You gasped as Dazai hummed the warning against your ear and released your hand only to point downwards.

He cut a withering glare at Dazai, but in time, Chuuya sank back to his knees and crawled across the floor to his place between your feet, gazing expectantly up at you.

“Now you say, ‘very good, Chuuya’...”

Much to your surprise, Chuuya, Chuuya Nakahara pouted.

“I don’t want to hear that from you…” He muttered.

Dazai only chuckled before he turned back to you, “And now what do you suppose you say, hmmm?”

Your heart raced in your chest, the wind thoroughly knocked out of you when you spoke, “Please?”

If he only chuckled before, his shoulders now shook with laughter, “No, no, Bella…” He brushed his knuckles softly against your cheek, “You are the boss, now. You ask for nothing.” He whispered, casting a sidelong glance at a scowling Chuuya; “Say ‘thank you’, Chuuya.”

Dazai’s hands hooked your legs again, and pulled them further apart. Chuuya was able to quickly shake off his glare as he shuffled forward and pressed his face to the lacey apex of your thighs. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, loosing a shuddering breath before he raised his hands and paused.

He appeared to gnaw his cheek for a moment, a light flush dusting his cheeks. Dazai said nothing.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried you had erred somehow.

“I want-” he started, only to reconsider his words, “May I… take off my gloves?” He finished, eyes sidecast and fixed firmly to the floor.

You looked at Dazai for assistance, only for him to shrug and nod back to Chuuya.

“You… may…”

He slowly, deliberately rolled each glove off, one after the other before he returned to his task. He skated his newly bare fingers over your ankles, your calves, over your knees and around your thighs before lighting so gingerly on the soaked through fabric covering your cunt. His thumbs kneaded the flesh, glancing agonizingly close to your clit, and drawing some oh so necessary friction over it.

At length, he hooked a thumb over the lace barrier, and pulled it to the side. Cold air lapped at you, as Chuuya drew a long exhale over your center. His eyes flicked up to you again to see you worrying over your lip, and that damn Dazai looking so fucking smug, before he let his tongue peek out over his lips, closing them over your clit.

You gasped, your back arched away from Dazai but he held you firm against him while Chuuya lapped at your clit, drew circuits and figure eights around your lips, your entrance and back. The sweet sounds of your sticky pussy and gasping breath echoed into the night. It wasn’t long until your head rolled back to rest on Dazai’s shoulder, which he allowed himself to take some advantage of by sparing playful nibbles on your neck while he skirted his way up to cup your breasts, his cock granite hard and twitching against your back while Chuuya eddied you torturously closer to orgasm.

“Hmmm, you two are lucky I caught up to you when I did…” He mused idly, his hand relinquishing your breast to reach between you two to adjust himself.

“After all, if anyone else had found two people sneaking around a secure area like this, they might get a little nervous…” You dismissed his rambling, too lost in bucking your hips to grind on Chuuya’s tongue.

“And you know, some folks here, they can get a little…” You stilled as the cool edge of metal pressed to your temple, “trigger happy.”

Chuuya’s eyes flashed wide, “What the fuck, Dazai!”

“Oh hush, Chuuya.” Dazai chastised, free fingers flying out to entwine in autumn tresses, yanking his face back to your twitching cunt. “It’s rude to talk with your mouth full. Besides… I think she likes it, don’t you, belladonna? Oh come on, say you do?” He pleaded.

Your attention fractured, split between Chuuya’s tentative licks at your most sensitive spots, eyes still trained on the gun to your head, and, well, then there was that…

“Ah, I see…” He hummed, removing the offending article, but before you could relax completely, you heard the hammer click back and saw the barrel extend out in front of you.

“Say you like it, or I’ll make him stop.” He said icily against your ear.

All at once, you were a whirlwind of feeling, your gut dropped, your heart thrummed, but still your cunt tightened as Chuuya continued haphazardly servicing your slit.

“O-okay!” You yelp, “I do! I like it, Dazai!”

Just then, without knowing what combination of the circumstances in which you found yourself led to this, your entire body seized up around Chuuya’s tongue. Your legs clamped over his ears and drew him impossibly closer to you until he could do little more than suck your keening clit until your muscles shook and ached with effort.

This seemed satisfactory to Dazai, because quickly thereafter the pistol disappeared from your field of view.

“Wow…” He purred, you could feel his smile curl against your skin as you gasped for breath, “I was only foolin’, but I think you really did like it… Ha! And they call me sick…” His arms wound around your shoulders and your waist while he nuzzled your neck.

Chuuya rested his hands on your thighs and scowled up at Dazai, “You knew, didn’t you?”

Dazai had the nerve to look hurt at the accusation, “And lucky I did, too!” He said, lithely dismounting from the bed to meander to the dresser behind Chuuya, “You two are hopeless when it comes to discretion.” Dazai busied himself with the decanter which glistered crystalline in the moonlight.

“You should really be thanking me…”

Chuuya whirled at that, “Thanking you?! For what?”

Dazai chuckled darkly, “Oh, you will…” His voice was low with an edge to it that seemed to hush even Chuuya into a cautious, but expectant silence.

Dazai’s heels click… click… clicked against the floor, decanter in hand. He stopped in front of Chuuya whose lips were still slick with you, and uncorked the decanter with a squeaking pop. A crooked finger beneath Chuuya’s chin raised his gaze up to Dazai.

“For you…” The one and only warning Chuuya received before the dark liquor came waterfalling out of the crystalware, dribbling into Chuuya’s mouth gracelessly. He spluttered and coughed at the burning liquid invading his throat, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away what had escaped out the sides of his mouth and down his chin.

No sooner than he could breathe again, Chuuya found his chin once again hooked over Dazai’s knuckle. Another cutting glare until he spoke again;

“For her…” He canted the bottle in your direction, this time pressing his thumb to Chuuya’s bottom lip as an instruction to open.

The amber liquid flowed into Chuuya’s mouth again, this time with more decorum. Just shy of exceeding the amount that Chuuya could hold in his mouth, Dazai halted the flow and capped the decanter, gesturing once again toward you, before turning away to replace the bottle on the table.

You watched Chuuya, knowing better than he had before, crawl his way up your body. He used one arm to hike your leg over his hip, and his free hand to press you reverently into the mattress. Once there, he caged you in on either side, with his thumb he swiped away an errant curl from your face, before stooping low as though for a kiss.

When you opened your lips to grant him passage, warm, golden liquid spilled from his mouth to yours. It scalded the back of your throat as you drank it down, gulp by gulp, until your lips parted, a shining thread still connecting the two of you.

“Chuuya…” you cooed, pitching your hips up to even just graze his weeping erection. He hissed, and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“The fuck are you doing to me, doll…”

In the distance, you heard a cheerful hum, something to the tune of ‘Memory’.

Chuuya heaved a long-suffering sigh, then busied himself with gnawing at your neck. You reached between you, once again flicking open the button of his pants, slowly undoing his fly, and reaching in to palm his wrought iron cock, to the response of a breathy groan against your neck as he ground into the touch.

“Please, Chuuya… Need you so bad…” Damn what Dazai says, you thought, you two know yourselves better than he does, right?

Chuuya wasted no time shuffling his pants down enough for his cock to spring free. He laid it against your still dripping cunt, hot like a brand. One thing that was different with Dazai here, Chuuya never loved you this slowly before. He thrust against you, relishing the friction once, twice, and on the third stroke he sank himself into your waiting heat. Your pussy sucked him greedily in, which knocked the wind right from his lungs.

He pushed himself off the mattress to look at you, arms and shoulders trembling with effort as he took you in. He pressed into you again, and again, and again. Eventually, he captured your lips in a hungry kiss, tongue skimming the roof of your mouth, melding with yours, before sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. In one movement, he snatched up your wrists in either hand, pinning them to the mattress as he bullied into your cunt over and over.

His grip tightened around your wrists, vicelike, bruising.

“Ch-Chuuya!” you stammered around his thrusting cock, “You’re h-hurting me!”

“Don’t. Stop.” Dazai commanded, unseen.

And like he had no other choice, Chuuya slammed into you like a crashing tide, pinning you to the bed as he loomed over you, sweat slicked, panting and animal.

Soon, like you had no other choice, your legs snapped around him, your breath came ragged and whining as he ground you down into his shape, made to receive only him.

“M’gonna…” He gritted through his teeth.

“Yeah” You agreed, the feeling of your own release ricocheting off him.

His face once again sunk down to your shoulder, and a loud groan fell from his lips as he peaked shortly after you. Your breaths mingled, and at length the two of you relaxed into each other.

Before you could fully recover, the sound of a slow applause resounded about the room.

“Very nice…” Dazai crooned.

Much to your chagrin, Chuuya rolled off of you to look Dazai in the face, but Dazai wasn’t looking at Chuuya. He was looking at you.

“You put on a good show, Bella… Come, sit in my lap.” He said, patting his thigh softly as he reclined in the ornate chair he had pulled from beneath the window.

You sat up, skirt pushed well over your waist, and moved to stand. Chuuya’s hand captured your wrist,

“You don’t have to do what he says…” He tells you.

“Why don’t you let her decide that, Chuu-ya?” Dazai sing-songed from his seat.

“It’s okay, Chuuya…” You whispered, smiling blearily before turning to meet Dazai.

You’d only gotten within arms reach before he snatched up your arm and spun you around, “Yeah, it’s okay, isn’t it Chuuya?” He called, mocking, before raising you wrist to inspect it.

“I swear to god, if you hurt her, Dazai…”

“What, like I’d hurt you, Chuuya?” He smirked against the blossoming bruise on your skin, “I think you’ve got that well in hand, don’t you.”

Chuuya blushed, actually blushed as Dazai pressed light kisses against your skin.

“I think it’s high time these came off…” He continued, unzipping your skirt, and pulling it with your panties unceremoniously to the floor. Left exposed, you tried to pinch your legs together just out of sheer embarrassment, as though you hadn’t just been licked and fucked within an inch of your life while a most unexpected guest watched. Behind you, Dazai tutted again.

“No no, sweetness, that won’t do… Can’t hide how beautiful you are, now can we?” He chided, before he shoved his leg between yours, both forcing them apart and throwing you off balance until you straddled his thigh.

Dazai pushed up on the ball of his foot to grind his knee into your clit. You tossed your head back with a gasp as he wound his arms about your middle like a python, pulling you hard against him, so he could nuzzle the hollow of your ear.

“Hasty, isn’t he?” he purred. You only whined as you tried to cant your hips into his thigh to feel just an ounce of friction again.

“Some people just don’t know…” long fingers trailed over each of your buttons until your now rumpled dress shirt fell open, “how good slow can be…”

He deftly undid the clasp of your bra and slid both articles off your shoulders, The night air raised goosebumps over your whole body. Even colder hands skated up your tummy to pluck at your purled nipples while Chuuya watched, your gasps and whining moans rousing his cock each passing second.

“Oh how I’d tease him to tears…” He recalled. “I could do that for you, if you’d like…”

One set of fingers trailed down, down, down just where you’d need them to be. They pet at your clit, swirling featherlight over it. The nerves there sang, pitch driving higher and higher until just as you’re about to reach the zenith.

Smack.

You yelped as a cold hand landed a sharp slap over your cunt. Again, he toyed with you, playing with your nipples, nibbling your neck and ears, thumbing over your clit until you’re just about to cum, and…

Smack.

The aftershock of your denied release rolled through you, your muscles tensed and ached and rebelled, choking a strained groan from your throat.

“Oh, what’s the matter, Belladonna?” He cooed, his iron grip around your middle barring you from the delicious friction of his thigh, your impatient grunts and whining availing nothing to you.

“Such a greedy little thing…” He continued, “Already two orgasms from Chuuya, and you want another from me?” He chuckled as you whined and struggled against him, meanwhile Chuuya sank off the bed onto the floor to watch you, pale fingers raking desperately through velvet tresses in a feeble effort to contain himself.

“Oh darling, you’ll have to work for that.” He kissed the hollow behind your ear, “Go on, pretty, give him a show…” He said, both hands dropping to your hips, canting them forward until your clit rubbed sweetly against his trousers. You shuddered and groaned, and he pitched your hips back to start again.

After a few strokes, you found your own rhythm grinding against his thigh. You unclasped your hands in favor of supporting yourself on Dazai’s knee, heavily lidded eyes lighting on Chuuya, cunt twitching at the far-off look he had watching you work yourself up.

“Isn’t she pretty, Chuuya?” you heard.

“Mm…” He murmured in dazed reply.

You couldn’t see the way Dazai rolled his eyes behind you, before tucking into his jacket and pulling out a thin blade of shining metal. Some of the light came back into Chuuya’s eyes.

“I said…” Long fingers knotted through the hair at the nape of your neck, and forced you to look skyward, “Isn’t she pretty?”

You yelped again, and where you had previously been aching, burning, like your skin was too tight to contain your body, cold metal prickled your skin.

“You should really be more careful where you keep these, Chuuya… I know you like to keep them…” You hissed as the cutting edge of the blade bit into the delicate skin of your neck. “...sharp.”

“Dazai, you fucker, I’ll-!” Chuuya did his best to scramble to his feet, only to be met with a booted heel to his shoulder.

“You’ll what?” Dazai said darkly, more of a challenge than a question. WIth barely more than a glance, he directed Chuuya’s attention to where you met his thigh. You were soaked, pussy positively drooling over Dazai’s thigh if the rapidly spreading dark spot was anything to go by.

Dazai’s lips quirked up as he, in time, removed the knife, pressing the tip against his tongue before taking the whole blade end into his mouth, pulling it out clean.

“You found a real freak, Chuuya…” He licked a long stripe along your neck to clear the dribbling blood from your cut, “Maybe I’ll keep her…” He grinned, winding his arms tightly around you again.

Chuuya opened his mouth to reply, but was soon interrupted.

“D-Dazai…” You whined.

“Hmmm?”

“Wanna… cum…” You panted in his ear. Your body ached with need, your legs trembled you could have climaxed just from the rolling chuckle he lilted into your ear.

“Of course you do, sweet thing.” He said with a kiss against your jaw, free hand tucking some hair behind your ear.

Your eyes flew open when those fingers twisted in your hair again, forcing you down to your knees as he stood without warning.

“However, I hardly think that’s fair, considering poor Chuuya has worked so hard to make you feel good, and you’ve done next to nothing!”

You winced away from his grip against your scalp, but he held firm as he crouched to speak in your ear again,

“Perhaps if you try returning the favor, maybe I’ll consider it.” He spat venomously, letting go of your hair, and disappearing from your sight.

Despite the scathing words, your mind swam on a numbing sea, leaving you with no thoughts outside of the humming in your blood and the ache between your legs.

Your skin sparked at the sensation of a ridged leather sole between your shoulder blades, forcing you forward into a near kowtow between Chuuya’s knees.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” He hissed. “Suck.”

You sighed as though in relief, like you were granted a great boon, and leapt forward to take his flushed cock in hand.

Your eyes swam up to meet his, just as bewildered and mystified as your own as he watched your tongue loll from your mouth, and lick a white hot stripe up the underside of his cock. His surprised moan tumbled from his lips as he carded his fingers through your hair, gentle and delicate compared to Dazai’s biting grip.

Chills raced up and down your back as he swept up your cascading curls into his fist while you took him from tip to base into your throat. Eyes fixed on his face, so pretty in the white gold light filtering through the window, you swallowed around his dick. He hissed sharply and another groan choked forth from his throat.

“Oh, you can do better than that.” Dazai chided, the last thing you heard before a second hand forced you further down his cock. Chuuya threw his head back with a strangled gasp as you gagged around him, tears rolling down your cheeks. You planted your hands to either side of Chuuya’s hips, thumbs fisted in your palms while you struggled to take him all.

“Dazai…” Chuuya breathed, “please…”

Dazai only hummed in reply, twirling his russet hair between his fingers as Chuuya yielded himself to the sensation of you, kicking his feet and bucking into your throat until white ribbons painted the inside of your mouth.

“Don’t waste it, Bella…”

And you didn’t, wouldn’t dare, swallowing every drop of what Chuuya had to give until Dazai let you off his cock, spluttering, coughing and gasping through your spit slick lips. When you started to catch your breath, a cold hand cupped your chin and pulled you to look into deep dark eyes.

“You’ve done very well, sweetness.” A wan smile painted your lips at his praise, “I think she’s earned her reward, don’t you, Chuuya?” Chuuya said nothing while Dazai trailed a hand between your legs to pinch your clit, eliciting another wanton moan from your lips, which devolved into one of protest when Dazai removed his hand. You weren’t sure how much more teasing you could take.

Dazai , however, quickly dismissed your concerns, “Go on, take your prize then.” He said, glancing once down to Chuuya. Your gaze flitted from him, back to Dazai, and then hungrily back to Chuuya again as you clambered up his body and positioned yourself over his hips.

“Wait…” He slurred, propping himself up onto one elbow, “Hold on a sec- ah!” Chuuya keened as you slotted him at your dripping slit, and rode slowly over him, feeling him growing hard beneath you, spreading delicious warmth over your needy clit.

“Baby…” he pleaded, “I can’t…”

“He can.” Dazai assured.

You threw your arms around Chuuya’s neck, your breasts pressed to his chest. You couldn’t help but marvel at him, flushed, panting, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, yet another one of his facets that Dazai’s chosen to reveal to you tonight. When his hazy eyes landed on yours, polished with tears, alcohol, the moment, you found your mouth landing on his, swallowing his moans, sucking on his tongue as you ground in circles on his cock.

His hands flew to your hips, slender fingers gripping the fat of your ass, pulling you on top of him. He tried to hold you still, but the more you wound around him, the less control he had over his hips pistoning in and out of you, a chorus unbridled moans tumbling from his kiss-bitten lips.

In the end, you collided in ribbons of color, your body overwound and his undone, and you both came with trembling gasps as you held tightly to one another, a sheen of sweat setting your skin aglow.

“Perfect.” Dazai whispered.

From where he was standing, you couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or at Chuuya. Maybe both, maybe it didn’t matter. When you heard the echo of Dazai’s footsteps, you shook yourself out of your suspension.

“W-wait!” You called hoarsly. He stopped. Chuuya’s arms wound around your waist to hold you to him, but still you reached for Dazai;

“What about you?”

He tossed a look over his shoulder, an exasperated smile playing on his lips before he turned back on his heel and crouched in front of you.

“And what about me, Belladonna? Hmm?” A long finger idled with a strand of your hair, caressed your cheek.

“You- I mean… You didn’t…” Why were you suddenly so embarrassed? Like he didn’t just watch you and Chuuya come apart in his hands, taken apart like instruments, only he wasn’t the player here, he was the conductor, directing the tempo, crescendos and arpeggios into a beautiful symphony. A perfect masterpiece.

Dazai smiled wistfully at you, a touch of sincerity opening up on his face, in his eyes. He took your chin between his fingers, and pressed a lingering, chaste kiss to your lips.

“Something to look forward to.” He smirked, and took his hand over to Chuuya to tuck a stray lock behind his ear, before returning to his exit, sans encore.

“Dazai…” Chuuya grumbled, but before he could get another word out, Dazai spoke, a finger to his lips and a mischievous glint in his eye;

“Don’t worry, Chuuya… Your secret is safe with me.”

And with a wink, he was gone, the echo of his statement sounding more like a threat than a promise.

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