#big beercan

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, light bondage, alcohol, misogyny/chauvinism

fem reader

You didn't know such a normal guy could turn out to be so insane. 

But thinking about it, you realized his actions had always seemed a bit too timed. As though he’d practiced – the awkward smile, the sorry laugh, the small apologies, even the blush, and those giddy puppy eyes – creating the perfect disarming cute goof you’d never possibly find threatening even in the slightest despite him being a tank of a man.

He'd been so sweet – so boyfriendly and kind. 

His behavior was just disturbing now. Acting normal with you – ignoring how he’d tied your wrists up too tight...

The room was dim – moody, with the movie playing loud in front. He had his heavy arm resting around your shoulders with your body placed snugly into his side – uncomfortably so. He’d duct-taped your mouth shut a while ago after he’d grown tired of your crying – having stuffed one of his socks in there first.

He gripped a sixth or seventh beercan in his other hand, the one not currently squeezing your upper arm – letting it rest on the dungaree of his thigh, making a dark blue ring where the dewdrops had slid down.

Something happened in the movie you were too tense and panicked to watch, but either way, whatever it was, it seemed to make him lose interest – scoffing out a gruff “Puh-” before raising his beer to his lips, chugging the rest of it down before slamming it to the ground.

“This movie is fucking boring-”

You flinched and would probably have screamed too if you could – all your nerves making you feel sick, close to giving out at the sound of the crash. Your eyes peeled with terror and tears, watching the empty can slowly roll around to a stop on the wooden floors.

He groaned, using his free hand to grab his groin – giving it a tug and shake, manspreading a little wider than what he was already.

Then, he lazily flipped the tail of his belt out of the loops, popping the buckle with a clatter of metals.

You wanted to whine or will yourself to move, but you knew it would only end in more bruises – so instead, all you dared do was breathe a little faster through your nose.

The hand kept at your arm brushed past your shoulder to cup your head, messaging your scalp in big fingers – with such pressure, it made your entire head bobble on your neck. The other hand undid his button and unzipped his fly – then moved to hook the rope tying your wrists together, pulling them to the bulge for you to finish the job.

You didn't refuse, wishing to keep him calm – so you dipped past the band of his boxers with shaking hands, put trembling fingers around his thickened shaft, and gently pulled him out.

He gave a rusty sigh, releasing a damp and sour breath of beer that clouded your head.

Grimacing at the stench, you nearly made the mistake of coughing as your fingers enveloped his fat erection in both hands – intertwined with each other neatly down along his shaft.

He jerked his hip, prompting you to start – stroking up slowly and down again, rubbing over forked veins plump with blood, making him stiffen harder in your grip – soon so hard it stood on its own in your hands, pilling with precum getting caught on your digits.

He pulled your head to his chest and rested his chin upon your cheek – watching your small hands work his cock – your skin so smooth and good compared to his, caressing him so tenderly in such a sweet and loving way.

You listened to his heart hammer on your ear, pressed tight against the tough muscles of his torso with his prickly chin stubble digging into the soft side of your face. The whole position was awkward, but you kept your hands going – rubbing him like you knew he liked until his hands gripped your arm and pulled you off, planting both paws on your hips as he lifted you onto his lap – your thighs spread to straddle him.

He'd been keeping you in just a silk babydoll – one he could easily lift for his pleasure. Gruff fingers rubbed the glassy texture of it before slipping beneath the light thing – gliding up your thighs to hold you by the fat of your ass.

He pulled you forward – tight – close enough for him to lick your collar and bite onto the strap on your shoulder – pulling it aside for him to suck your sweet little nipple into his mouth.

Your nails pressed smiles into your palms, looking down at him suckling new blotches into your sensitive skin as he rolled your nip between his teeth teasingly with a lusty growl – his hand making moves beneath the skirt of your nightie, grabbing his shaft and pushing it immaturely against your unprepped pussylips – forcing a kiss to your taut entrance before further driving himself inside you.

You couldn’t help the sounds now – whining out a pained moan into your gag as you doubled over against his chest, soon sobbing on his shoulder as he nudged himself nice and deep against your womb – fitting snuggly in your tight-knit walls.

He paid your wails no mind. Squeezing the soft flesh of your butt in his hand, with the other coming to join the action once more – digging his fingers into the supple flesh and making you rock back and forth on his lap – feeling as though he was ripping your hole apart.

“It’ feel better if you just got wet like you used to-” He said casually – fucking your dry cunt like he did your dry palms earlier. You don’t think it bothers him at all as long as it’s tight.

But soon, the slick started to form anyway, like it always did whether you wanted it or not – a protective maneuver your body conditions itself with to make the assault feel somewhat less miserable.

“There you go- now you’ll feel good, so stop your crying.” He cooed, raising a hand from beneath the tent of your dress, wrapping it in the hair at the back of your skull, forming a fistful of it – pulling you from his chest to lash your neck full of new lovebites.

He started making you hop now instead of riding – aiding you by the hand lifting your ass and the other pulling your hair. He jerked his own hips to meet you, slamming your poor cervix like a punching bag – he knows that’s how he makes your pussy cry boohoo, soaking his cock with pleasant warmth. 

A moan springs from your throat each time it runs you through – feeling it kick you in the stomach each time you slapped down on his lap – and soon you gushed in spite of it, abruptly halting your tempo before squirting violently – quaking in spasms, tits doing spins with him buried up to the hilt.

“That’s it- that’s my little whore-” He purred with a rumble in his chest, humming at the feel of your tight cunt fluttering from orgasm as you leaked sweet pussyjuice on his jeans. “Now, that’ll never get boring.”

He unraveled the fist in your hair and began petting your back, letting you slump back against his chest as he kept doing slow lifts with his hips to squeeze into you despite being swallowed down to the base – leaving your cunt now would just be a waste of a nice throttle.

“Since your mouth’s in a timeout, I think this pussy’s the winner of today’s load- fuck knows you deserve it after that.” He continued in a strained voice – the length of his cock desperately curling to make space for its whole length, stretching your gummy walls until they stung from the workout, making you buck your hips in revolt.

But he only took it as an eager approval of his comment. Leaving his prints on your ass with how hard he clawed his hand into it while his other arm hugged you tightly to his chest – keeping you seated and himself bottomed out as his cock sprung within in you, busting out thick hot ropes of cum deep inside the comfort of your tight cunt.

He held you there long enough to make the ache of it mellow out into a numb tickle – feeling just the warmth as he finally slumped out.

Face dewy, still with a taped x marking your lips. The pain had made you nearly chew right through the sock stuffed in your mouth, but now you just sucked on it – jaw lax from exhaustion where your head felt heavy, resting on his shoulder. 

He panted for a few minutes, sweaty hands rubbing circles into your equally slippery skin until announcing, “It’s almost dinnertime, huh?”

Your eyes kept blinking softly, feeling the slow trickle of cum leave your cunt along with wetness of your own, seeping out onto the softening cock keeping warm between your thighs.

You barely even jolt when his hand comes down on your ass in one of his kinder slaps.

“How ‘bout we untie those hands again so you can shimmy this little ass into the kitchen, hm? I’m starving.”

BNHA – Kirishima, Hawks, Bakugou, Natsuo, Dabi, Mirio, FatGum

JJK – Naoya

HQ – Ukai, Daichi, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa

[zmediaoutlet]

for @wincestwednesdays: performance

Dean’s heel won’t stop bouncing. He’s tried to cut it out a few times now but his head won’t stop bouncing, either, brain jerking around to ten different things like a car fishtailing on a gravel highway, and when he gets back to this universe again—there’s his damn knee, jogging like he’s had a triple red-eye and maybe some under the table adderall, too, just as a fun chaser. He leans forward, sets his palms heavy on his knees. Breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. His heart thudding sick in his throat. Eight months to go.

Motel door opens. “They were out of El Sol but I got the other one,” Sam says, six pack under his arm and plastic bag dangling from his fingers and fumbling with keys, heeling the door closed behind himself, shaking night rain out of his hair. “And, yes, I got the jerky.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Sammy,” Dean says. Big grin. Sam rolls his eyes and doesn’t seem to notice how Dean jumped like a frickin b-horror starlet when he came in. His heart racing harder even though—god, what’s wrong with him. It’s Sam.

Sam, pulling a beer and tossing it to Dean, tapping his open laptop to see if there’s been any update to the police scanner since he left. Like Dean wouldn’t have noticed, and said. Although, given the fishtail— “Nothing,” Sam sighs, and okay. Okay, good. Or, not good, because they’re waiting for an update, so they can figure out who’s been killing random dudes, so they can kill that thing, so they can get out of this town and do something else, anything, except there’s nothing that really counts as doing anything because they can’t, because if they do Sam will—and then all of Dean’s whole life will mean exactly jack squat, all his purpose and hope and love drained out of him like blood pouring from a bullethole, and he already had that happen once, and he’s not doing it again. Sam will just have to live, and Dean will—he’ll—

“Dude, what’s with the fidgeting,” Sam says. He tips his beercan toward Dean’s jumpy fuckin’ knee. “You can go pee, I can watch the scanner.”

“Ha.” Dean stretches out his heels, ignores his racing heart. Smiles at Sam with everything he’s got. “Just bored. Don’t think our ghost’s gonna kill again tonight.”

“The ghoul, you mean?” Sam says, and Dean silently mouths the ghoul? with his most irritating face, and Sam—incredibly—doesn’t go for the same argument they’ve been having for three days, but maybe he’s bored, too, because instead he says, “Yeah, maybe not.”

Raining louder outside, some last hurrah of late-summer weather. Covers up traffic noise and the thudding in Dean’s ears, makes the motel room seem smaller. Maybe safer. Shelter, at least. Dean licks the point of his canine and gulps beer, washing bitter cold to the back of his throat, and Sam watches him do it across the dingy grey-brown carpet, thumbing the aluminum rim of his own can. Some expression in his eye Dean can’t quite pin down. He lowers his beer and Sam’s still looking at him, and then Sam’s face changes, the corner of his mouth curving down, and Dean’s whole chest seizes up because—no, they are not talking about—

“Turn up the scanner,” Dean says. Sam frowns, jarred, but he thumbs the volume on the laptop so they’re getting radio crackle. “Okay. So we won’t miss anything.”

“Why would we miss—” Sam starts, but Dean’s already gotten off the bed and rolled onto his knees between Sam’s spread legs and is grinning up at him before he can ask the dumb question. And, yeah, he gets another eyeroll, and he gets a scoff, but Sam’s legs spread out to accommodate his shoulders and he’s not exactly getting up, is he. “Dude, really?”

“What?” He knows just the right amount to lean into it—how to tip the grin filthy, how to look up under his eyelashes. “I’m bored, you’re bored. I know how we could change that.”

“Pretty sure of yourself?” Sam says, but he says it with red rising in the hollow of his cheeks, his thighs spreading lazily. Dean drags his hands up the soft-warm denim and touches his tongue to the gap between his teeth, the way that’s always worked, and sure enough sees Sam’s lips part and his eyes drop and—yeah, another tick in the win column. It’s so easy.

Sam drags his thumb over Dean’s lower lip, drags down to his chin. “Always am, little brother,” Dean says. He sits up higher on his knees and Sam’s hand drags down his throat, fingers tangling in the amulet he gave all those years ago. Will the hellhounds tear it from his shredded body, Dean wonders, and licks his lips wet and smiles wider. Makes Sam watch his mouth and not whatever might be in his eyes. “Want me to prove it?”

“Knock yourself out,” Sam says, wide open for whatever Dean wants to do, and Dean grips him by the front of that ugly bacon-stripe shirt and pulls him down for a kiss—wet, biting. The hundred dollar treatment, if Dean says so himself. Sam gets those huge hands on either side of Dean’s head and curls forward, knocking Dean’s mouth open and taking what’s on offer to distract them both from the night, and Dean’s heart sounds like the thunder rattling the motel walls. Eight months to go.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#341

This is a direct follow up to Story #223 and Story #232.

“Piece of shit!  It’s your lucky day.  You’re getting out of here.  You’ve been sold.  Lil’ Hog told me that I’m to transport you to the east coast.  I’m also to clean you up and tend to your sores.  Now, the chain your collar is coming off.  Coyote will use it on the next slave he’ll install later on today.  I am bigger and stronger than you, so don’t try to run.  Nod if you understand…

“Good.  Lean forward.  Damn this is one solid collar…. Hey, he gave me the right key this time…. Get up and let’s get out of this sewer of a bathroom.

“Bright out hunh?  Here, wash yourself up with that bucket of water.  I put some soap and a washcloth next to it.  There’s no hot water here, so it’s going to be a bit cold.  Scrub up good.  I don’t want you stinking up the cab of my semi.  Tonight, we’ll check into this motel, and you can have a hot shower….

“Are you… crying?...  Wait, you think that I am your savior, rescuing you from that disgusting mattress?  Oh faggot.  That’s too funny.  I’m just here to transport you from one hell to another.  We are going to spend a few nights at a motel in the middle of nowhere run by Big Hog. It’s a total dive.  Big Hog usually has the men to fill its six rooms.  They are waiting for us.  You have an evening of servicing whoever Big Hog plans on being there.  Don’t know what all he has planned other than your hair removal and castration.

“You can drop the shocked look.  And don’t even try to beg me not to take you there; I don’t care.  I really don’t.  You are fucking cargo to me.

“Your new owners want a hairless eunuch; they are going to get one.  That’s why we are spending a few days there.  Then I drop you off at the facility in South Carolina to be shipped off to God knows where.

“Everything is pretty much set.  Trust me, you won’t miss your balls.  It’s not like you were using them for anything….  Well other than a punching bag.  You are not going to father any kid.  So why leave them attached?  If anything, this should reinforce that you are not a man, that you are a cunt faggot slave used for the enjoyment of real men.

“Here’s the hose.  Rinse yourself off.  It’s cold….  When was the last time you cleaned out your cunt?...  A few hours ago?  Good.  Let’s go to my truck.  No, I don’t have a towel for you to dry off; the air is fine.  And you are not covering yourself up.  No one will think twice about coming into a closed down rest area.  Well except those in the know.

“You cleaned up well.  You no longer look like a troll living under a bridge.  Stop right here.  Get on your knees.  Out here in the open.  I have to take a hell of a piss.  Might as well start using my own personal toilet. 

“It’s big isn’t it?  This is what you are going to be serving the next week or so.  Fuck!  You sure know how to drink.  When I finish, get me hard.  I’m going to plow your cunt right here.  It’s too beautiful of a day to fuck in a closed cab. 

“Stand up, turn around, and put your hands behind your back….  These handcuffs will keep you from doing something stupid.  Now lean over.  Don’t worry, I got you.  These cuffs will act as a handle.  Oh man, are you ever stretched out.  Jesus!  My beercan is encountering no resistance.  No wonder why the guys are bringing me a special plug…. 

“Oh wait, do you hear that?  In the distance?  That sounds like a number of motorcycles.  Yeah, they will be in here in no time.  When they do, don’t fucking move.  I want them to see me plowing your cunt front and center.

“Oh man, I can feel a few fresh loads in you.  I will start the training you to build up these cunt muscles, to get them back to a place that offers some pleasure to the men using it.

“They are getting louder.  The sound of multiple motorcycles always gets my juices flowing.  Clamp down….  That’s all you have?  Fuck, we need to work on that.

“Here they come….  Look at that.  That looks like Coyote and Lieutenant Tom.  And Coyote has your replacement.  Look at that beast.  He’s not going to be here long.  Someone will buy him soon.  Oh! And here comes Lil Hog.

“Cunt keep staring at the concrete; don’t look up unless told to.  And don’t say a goddamned thing.  Here come’s Lil Hog….

“…Hey man I see Coyote has a beast of a slave going in….  Fuck.  Look at those arms.  Sheesh.  Can I get a piece of that before I and this cunt leave?  This fag’s cunt is so stretched out, it’s damned near worthless as a fuck.  Do you have the plug?  Good.  Good.  I’ll meet you in the toilet once I get this cunt plugged and installed in my cab.

“Cunt, get up and let’s go.  Take this butt plug.  In the next 50 feet, by the time we get to the semi, I want that plug in your cunt.  It should go in easy considering how stretched out you are.  That’s a very special plug; it comes all the way from Germany.  It has sensors around the base to monitor how tight you can squeeze. 

“Ok get up in the cab….  Lay in the bunk.  This chain is secured to the truck and now,… to your collar.  You ain’t going anywhere. 

“I love technology.  That plug is now synced to my iPad here.  Feel that vibration?  That’s telling you to squeeze.  You are to squeeze your cunt around the plug and keep squeezing as long as it vibrates.  If it vibrates very fast that means that you need to tighten up even more.

“When I get back, I will have a baseline score for your cunt muscle strength.  It will probably suck.  So I will most likely beat you for punishment, which will be after you clean off that beast’s ass slime from my dick.

“I’ll be back in a bit.  I’ll probably be last in the train.  And I don’t care if you want to beat off.  As long as you are squeezing the plug when instructed, that’s all I care.  Besides, this will be the last opportunity to pound your pud and drain your balls before they are sliced away.”

[jungleindierock]

Time Machine - 2024 - No. 1

First in the new Time Machine Playlists for 2024, they will appear once i have 40 songs in each one. Mixed genres of music, from 1950-2022. Already begun No. 2 so could out soon. Enjoy it and share it, might find some bands/artists you like and want to explore their back catalogues!!

I feel 40 is good number of tracks not too long or too short in listening time for your enjoyment. The whole playlist is only two hours and thirty three minutes long.

Reb

Tracklist

Elbow - One Day Like This

The Box Tops - The Letter

Johnny Cash - Hurt

Junior Murvin - Police & Thieves

Frank Wilson - Do I Love You (Indeed I Do)

David Bowie - Rebel Rebel

Spear Of Destiny - Liberator

The The - The Beat(en) Genration

Kings Of Leon - Talihina Sky

Public Image Ltd. - This Is Not A Love Song

Nick Drake - Pink Moon

Imelda May - Johnny Got A Boom Boom

New Order - Ceremony

John Foxx - Underpass

Dandy Livingstone - Suzanne Beware Of The Devil

The National - England

Warpaint - Undertow

The Temper Trap - Science Of Fear

Major Lance - Ain't No Soul (In These Old Shoes)

The Farm - No Man's Land (John Peel BBC Radio Session)

999 - Feelin' Alright With The Crew

Bob Dylan - Blowin' In The wind

Rage Against The Machine - Guerrilla Radio

The Colorblind James Experience - Considering A Move To Memphis

Easterhouse - Whistling In The Dark

The Stone Roses - I Am The Resurrection

Peter Tosh - Vampire

The Vaselines - Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam

John Lee Hooker - One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer

Beck - Beercan

Toots & the Maytals - Take Me Home, Country Roads

The Pop Group - She Is Beyond Good & Evil

The Unthanks - A Great Northern River

The Cure - 100 Years

Stereophonics - A Thousnad Trees

Big Mama Thorton - Hound Dog

Tom Waits - Rain Dogs

The Pogues - Wild Cats Of Kilkenny

The Detroit Cobras - Leave My kitten Alone

Super Furry Animals - Golden Retriever

[hunting-songs]

After a hard day at work, Kurapika smiled softly to himself when he found Senritsu. He hesitated for a few seconds, but then finally made up his mind. He wanted to relax for a moment and have fun, trying to put the day he'd had behind, and with her he felt comfortable and felt like he could be himself. Approaching from behind, he leaned slightly, getting closer to her ear with a soft but slightly deep tone and simulating a gentleman's tone "Is this seat taken? Please, tell me, miss, ❛ do you believe in love at first sight or should i walk by again? ❜" Letting out a soft but honest laugh, Kurapika took the seat next to her, winking at her in amusement to make her understand that he was joking. "Sorry, ❛I have had a really bad day and it always makes me feel better to see a pretty woman smile. So would you smile for me?❜" Reaching her hand, he approached to kiss its back, but as soon as his lips made barely perceptible contact with her skin, he smiled and moved away slightly.

The autumnevening made long streaks of warm, deep golden sunlight fall into the small hotelkitchen. It was quiet, the staff had finished their shift for today, the streets outside were yet not screaming with the evening-rush-hour and when Senritsu walked barefoot into the kitchen and took a beercan out of the freezer, her fingers nimbly openign it was the only loud sound she was hearing in the building. When she had finishd her own shift, Senritsu had slipped in the baggy band-t-shirt and shorts she usually wore for sleeping and for a few moments that felt like paradise she sat in that kitchen by the table, with the cool beercan in her small hand, the quietness of the kitchen stroking comfortably around her ears, and the warmth of the sunlight warming her back that made her feel like a lazy cat laying contentedly purring in the sun. For a few moments the woman just sat there quietly and enjoyed it to the fullest. Senritsu looked up from her now halfempty beercan, when she heard Kurapikas footsteps on the corridor coming towards her. She heard the tentativeness in his tiered heartbeat and couldn´t help a worried frown drawing a long line between her big eyes over that. Then she listened as this tentativeness turned into a careful, so careful, playfulness when he eventually approached her by the kitchebtable to start his little game.

Her short fingers tapped a sweet little melody against the top of the beercan, while she listened with a amused shimmer in her dark eyes to Kurapikas smoothly delivered pick-up-lines. The young woman bit her lips to not burst out into laughters, instead she played along with his joke just as smoothly: "Mhmmmmmmm My, how radiant must be my beauty to attract such sweet words from a handsome strangers lips. How could I not smile for this handsome stranger. Trouble never looked so fine, indeed. But to my shame I must say- I do not believe in Love at first sight, in fact I do believe that Love is a decision one has to make." Senritsus melodic voice was nothing but a sweet purr carassing along th mans ears like loving fingers. The Music-Hunter knew what she was doing with her voice, and she knew what she was doing when she slightly leaned forward. Her fingers carefully shoved the beercan away over the table and the hand Kurapika had been holding gently moved around, holding his hand while her thumb stroked as light as a feather along his skin with just enough slight pressure so her nail left a line of a alluring tickling sensation on his skin. The womans dark grey eyes, shimmering like polished silverjewelery in the low sunlight, found his : "And right now, I think I just made a decision, what a sweet coincidence for both of us. After all, as you said you had a bad day so if you’re feeling down, i can feel you up." The Musician lasted exactly half a minute before little chuckles started to break through her melodic humm of a voice and she looked to the side giggling with laughingtears in her big eyes. [ @skarletchains ]

[capiovis]

It had been many years since Caius had stepped foot in a high-school. But his old stomping grounds, even though he attended for no less than half a year, still looked the same. One man had stood out to him. It had been over ten years since he was last in town, but he was glad to have come across his old coach, still in the shirt that was tight across his build and shorts that often left little to the imagination. He'd never done anything with his favourite teacher prior to tonight, but he had always wanted to. He'd been meaning to visit the school out-of-hours, sneak in and think of the good times he had here, while he was. There were still some students leaving to go home, or otherwise, waiting to be picked up after football practice.

He had found coach in the changing rooms. Within a few short minutes, he was mounting the bench and helping himself to Coach Daniel's shorts, hand digging in to retrieve that stupendously fat meatstick. Caius always had some idea of how endowed the man was, but surely, not this. Still, the grown and rugged man was still soft to the touch. After seeing no objections coming from the man, he lowered himself down after tearing away at his shirt.

No time was wasted to offer him with a steady stroke of his hand. Caius spat a wad of spit onto his hand to help lubricate the shaft, watching as his grip seemed to become smaller as Daniel's cock grew thicker and proving to become a challenge to yield it. Alas, his wet strokes came to an end, his hand ending with a steady grip at the base in order to tip it upwards. It was far heavier than he imagined it to be, so without a firm grasp on it, he knew it would surely collapse onto his belly or his hip. "Fuck me, coach... we always thought you'd have a big dick but this exceeds expectations." Caius delightedly commented with a smile fixed to his lips. And soon after, the smile faded as he leaned in, lips parting as far as they could to introduce that beercan of a cock. After a few slow bobs of his head, he had enough slobber drooling out of his mouth to coat the majority of that throbbing piece. Caius moved to kneel between the man's spread thighs, a hand tucking into the shorts to cradle fully-loaded balls, while the other was secured around the base of the member.

At this angle and position, he had better alignment. He utilised the coach's thighs to rest his arms. While maintaining eye contact, his tongue trickled out to swirl over the head, gathering every droplet of pre-cum that seeped out. Caius swallowed it gracefully, lust deep in his eyes. He tried his very best to maintain that eye contact, he wanted to see Daniel's physical reaction to the wonderful skills he had picked up since becoming sexually active. But as his lips spread far and wide, stuffing inch after inch into his mouth until he forced it into his throat, his eyelids could no longer be kept open, the strain causing him to close his eyes, tears welling up in them, muscles of his throat straining around that deliciously thickened intrusion. Alas, he did not pull away. He had over half of the length stored inside of him. Caius gagged, he withdrew, before plunging back down, retracting and repeating it all over again, not caring for how much of a mess he was making with his slobber over the man's cock, nor the way he audibly gulped the length down in rapid succession, the changing rooms echoing with the sounds of him swallowing, gagging and slurping.

Eventually, he plopped it from his hungry throat, letting it bob free in front of him, drooling with the combination of spit and pre-cum onto the ground. His hand was brought up so he could wipe the tears from his cheeks. "I've wanted this massive cock since my days in this place, Coach." Caius beamed up at him, his tongue swiping along the towering length, acting as if he had full ownership of it. "I spent more time looking at your bulge, ass and tits than any other book or board in this school. Look at me now, Coach." Caius proclaimed, just as he returned to lowering his mouth on that pulsing slab, his tongue working to massage into that hot flesh and lather it up. With enough swallowing bobs, a bubbly mixture formed at the length, it was far as he could reach without causing an injury to his throat. So close, yet so far from having his face be squeezed into his navel. Caius retracted, choking and clearing his throat. "I'ma lose my voice after this." He began, lips puckering to kiss at the ruddy wet tip. "Y'want to fuck me, Coach? I promise this'll be the best ass you've fucked in years. And if it ain't, y'can fuck me till it is."

CONTINUED FROM HERE.

[prosorinos]

Cat dump

-

Body: Sony A7II

Lens: Konica Minolta "Big Beercan" 75-300

Portrait: 140mm Landscape: 100mm

ISO 50

Portrait: f/5.6 Landscape: f/5.0

Shutter: 1/400

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

A$gore As C0ck pred on fatal d1gestion in the frat

More college heydays. Sequel to this one.

He usually wouldn't have made a decision like this sober, but he was a couple--wait, was it a couple? He can't remember--beers deep and it was getting harder to think straight. So when R.udy started bragging to everyone about all the guys he packed away into his sack during a frat cleanup, A.sgore had suddenly become the center of attention for a bunch of frat guys.

He slurred through some explanation of what happened but listening to a drunken goat try to talk about a long story wasn't very satisfying to the now excited group of guys. It didn't take much prodding to get A.sgore onto his feet--although a bit wobbly--and his pants down around his ankles to show off his deadly cock. The guys mumble and chuckle to each other over how unimpressed they were with seeing it and R.udy very loudly exclaims that a demonstration should be in order.

Even through the haze of alcohol, A.sgore moaned as he got a face being pushed into his cock. His body at least could work on its own and started slurping down his sudden meal with the aid of his friend pushing the guy deeper. His furry balls dropping before him with a live meal, the crowd seemed a bit more impressed. With some more egging on from R.udy and already being rather tipsy, it seemed easy to convince the other guys to see how far they can push the goat's junk.

A.sgore sat back down as a pair of hands force themselves into his cock. This part is the blurriest of the night for him as his haze of drunkenness gets paired with a haze of lust as more and more guys end up being sent down his cock and into his sack. It grew more and more as it swelled up with live meat. The smell of musk got thick in the air after the fifth thanks to the constant leaking coming from his member. He didn't even speak through it, just moaned like a bitch as he was used as a joyride for some other drunken guys and a snickering R.udy. By the time the first orgasm hit, he completely blacked out for the rest of the night.

It's the next day when he comes to, groaning as he feels the pounding in his head from last night's drinking. A.sgore sits up slowly as he rubs his temples. "Ugh...what happened..?" He can barely remember the night. R.udy kept handing him drinks and got a bunch of guys to come over but...it gets really blurry from there. The sound of sloshing and the heavy weight dragging him down definitely got his attention when he stood up. His sack is hanging heavily below him like a couple of swollen basketballs. His cock is as thick as a beercan now and that's while soft. A.sgore's entire face turns bright red as he sees his new heft. "Wh-What the--?!"

"Oh, yer awake!" R.udy says as he steps into the room. He has to step past a couple of filled condoms, sloshing around with cum and the skeletal remains of vaguely recognizable guys. "We had a wild night, huh? You really impressed the football team--and went to town on them, too. You barely started churning them before falling asleep and your body just did all the work on its own!"

"Th-The football team?" A.sgore parrots. "As in...the whole team?" He remembers now. Their college had won a big game and with the quarterback in the frat, they'd hosted a big celebratory party. They'd all started talking about big meals they'd had since joining the college and R.udy had butted in to brag about A.sgore. And that lead to...

The goat looks down at his cock again, his face still flushed. "All the good ones, at least," R.udy says with his usual big grin. "I helped make sure they got bagged up for disposal today. And since you helped clean up early, I letcha sleep in! Now...before we get to work on dumping all of the garbage, why don't we finish off the tap, huh?"

A.sgore can't believe this. Did R.udy do that all on purpose? The very thought of it...it's kind of starting to make him hard again. The goat nods quickly at R.udy's offer to 'finish off the tap' but can't bring himself to speak more. The reindeer grins and slings an arm over his friend's shoulder. "Great! And if you need any help," he pulls out a camcorder as he speaks, "I got the whole thing on tape. C'mon, let's find an empty bed to borrow for a bit." The two of them head off to enjoy their morning together.

[uwuowotf2waslife]

Mercs as things my dog has done

(i adore him but damn if i see him eat his poo again ill flip my shit up - he is just very, very food driven plus he was born a stray so we kinda still be doing some work through his poo eating habits-)

Scout: got the zoomies so hard he dashed out and crashed onto a tree full speed, got a bit dazed but shook off and jumped down a 6 foot wall

Soldier: actually a solid 10 when it comes to training/basic commands but goes ballistic when he sees people he likes or dog owners their dogs are his frends

Pyro: loves stuffed animals/beds/blankets but will rip them up in less than an hour

Engie: mofo learned how to get his treats from the kong toy in the most efficient way (20 minutes because yoghurt is kinda hard to lick in a kong shaped toy)

Heavy: likes really big sticks, will carry them, drop em, chomp em up and try to carry all the lil wood pieces in his maw

Demo: likes beer and has tried multiple times to steal beercans if he thinks im not looking at him

Medic: unironically loves going to the vet and the groomer, like he will make sure if we happen to pass from there to whine if it isn't checkup/grooming day

Sniper: cant catch a toy without it hitting the ground to save his life but makes up with speed and supernatural ability to know if a toy has a treat or not inside

Spy: tried to hump his best friend female dog, got rejected and now avoids her like the plague. Plus tries to hump me when im on the rag....im suspecting he has a period kink or smt

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#217

“Hey little pussy boy. Come here. No. No. I said ‘Come here.’ You are Danny Black, right? Good. You don’t have to be all scared,… yet. Heh heh heh, I’m joking. Seriously. I’m Beercan. And if you were thinking that meant alcohol, you would be wrong. I know you’ve been whoring for Copperhead. Well, he don’t own you anymore. I do. I paid your debt to him....

“He’s glad to be out of the fag whoring business. Drop your pants, I need to inspect my property. I’m assuming you are in shock, and that’s why you aren’t fucking following my orders. Now pants around your ankles. I don’t give a fuck if we are outside. I don’t know why you would care; you’ve been given your johns blowjobs in these abandoned buildings without a problem. Now one last time, and I will not repeat myself again. Pants around your ankles.

“About time you fucking follow orders. No underwear. Good. That’s not going to change other than to say no socks going forward either. I have the key to your chastity cage. That cage is worthless. It’s too big, and easy to pull out of. This one will work better. Nice and smooth I see. Not a stubble. Fuck yeah. Copperhead have that removed? Well he did that right.

“This cage is better suited for owning a faggot. It’s quite ingenious. It’s not only remote controlled, but it delivers a shock whenever I want. Now don’t fucking move. Fuck you are getting hard, rock hard. I should have figured that. You know what? Jack off for me. I don’t give a shit. In fact, give me some head. It’s thick I know. You’ll learn to accommodate me in your toilet mouth and your cunt hole. To the root. Pound your pud really hard. And cum quickly. You know how to handle a dick in your mouth. You should you piece of shit fucking whore.

“I can’t even begin to think of the number of real men who have used that toilet mouth, my fucking toilet mouth. About fucking time you came. Stay on your knees and keep my cock in your mouth. I’m going to use the toilet part of your toilet mouth. All of my piss goes down your throat or up your cunt.

“And the hole between your legs will be known as a cunt. Men have shitholes. Fags have cunts. You will always refer to your hole as a cunt. Its primary function is to serve my cock. Shitting for you is secondary. That means that I expect the cunt to always be clean. Copperhead might have been into shit, but I’m not. Not at all. And even though I’m not into it, I want you to think about what my shithole does every time your tongue is buried deep in there. Always remind yourself that you are a disgusting faggot, that drinks his owner’s piss, that cleans his owner’s shithole, that is his owner’s spittoon, ashtray, and most importantly, cumdump.

“Pull off. I’m done pissing. Always remember, I am not your master. I am your owner. You are not a slave to me. Slaves are humans. Rather you are a possession. That’s it. Nothing more.

“Stand up and present me your pecker. This chastity cage should go on easier. Yeah it does. I’ve not seen one like this before. First, it’s designed to prevent pulling the shaft out. Second, your shaft goes into this tube. And this is the battery lock. A small sensor goes around your head. Should you start to get aroused it delivers a shock to your wang, the whole thing. Now you are nice and locked up. I can also shock you remotely.

“My brothers in the gang are going to like that. Speaking of which, in order for me to make that deal with Copperhead, the gang demanded to gang bang you. That will be tonight. After that, no more other men for you. Get on my bike. Let’s get you back home and I’ll show you what those duties are. Leave your clothes. I don’t give a shit if anyone sees your naked. This is your life now.”

[despairforme]

ah, she hopes he's home! her knuckles rap lightly against his front door, and once he opens it, she thrusts a red heart-shaped tin out to him, a big, cheerful smile on her face. " happy valentine's day, nnoitra! i made all of this just for you. there are some chocolate candies in here as well as some pieces of fudge! oh, there are cookies in there, too! i don't know if you celebrate valentine's day, but i wanted to make something for you anyway. "

     It was a lazy Sunday. No work for either him or Grimmjow today. Grimmjow was having a much deserved bath ( he had been helping Nnoitra out with some chores around the apartment ), and Nnoitra was lazing on the couch in front of the TV. He was watching a show about extreme fishing ( he really enjoyed this show, okay? ). A can of beer was loosely resting between his long fingers, and since he was almost laying on the couch, Tulip had been able to settle comfortably on his stomach, where she had curled up into a white, fluffy looking pillow. For Nnoitra it was less bothersome to have her laying there than constantly push her off. He would remove her when Grimmjow was done with his bath though. Just in case his boyfriend wanted the spot. He watched the fishing team pull in a MASSIVE monster fish, and wondered to himself how much it weighed in comparison to him. Then there was a light knock on the door. Tulip jumped down from his lap as he sat up. Who could that be? Maybe Grimmjow had ordered take-away? The beercan was placed down on the coffee table, and he made his way to the front door, HOPING to find a delivery guy on the other side.

     The door was opened, and to Nnoitra’s surprise - it was Melody! She had NEVER visited him before, and he was surprised she even knew where he lived. She was as small as ever, but wearing a bright smile. Her face might be slightly red from the cold outside. She seemed cheerful, and she literally shoved a large, heart-shaped tin right at him. Nnoitra took it. It was a Valentine’s gift, he knew that even before she said anything. He wondered if Grimmjow would get the wrong idea. That didn’t matter TOO much though, because, hey - he was getting treats here! As he was describing what was inside the box, Nnoitra’s mouth was watering. Chocolate candies? Fudge? Cookies?? DAMN she was being real nice to him! His grin showed his excitement.

     ❝ Shit, ‘fer real? DAMN ‘daz hella. ❞ There was a pause. Nnoitra wondered if he should invite her to come in. It seemed like the proper thing to do. But --- He really couldn’t do that, since it would take a whole lot of explanation to do if she met Grimmjow... Probably best to avoid that shit. ❝ ‘S good timin’. I was just on my way out. ❞ It was a lie, but he thought it sounded reasonable. ❝ Lemme grab my jacket. ❞ Maybe he could walk her part of the way home or something? Nnoitra could not believe that Melody didn’t have someone to celebrate Valentine’s with. It was... Just so unlikely? She was the sort of cute, pretty-looking chick that most guys would be all over. She was really nice too, so there was that. Maybe a little too shy, but once she got to know someone ( like with him ) she was way more comfortable and relaxed. Surely she had a Valentine’s this year? Either way, Nnoitra was going to go put the box down, snatch his jacket and head out with her for a little bit. Better... Tell Grimmjow about it before he left. Nnoitra did feel his stress level rise simply because of how close Melody was to finding out that he was living with another guy. It would be fine, he told himself. Totally fine. 

[chiripepe]

Not to be a whore but I wanna get fucked by one of those powerlifter dudes that can lift like 400lbs. Every time I sit on a dick I'm like, king... Are you sure you got the pelvis for it. LOL. But like those powerlifter dudes??? Hngghh. That's my whore goal for when covid is done a big thick strong mofo with a beercan dick. I wanna ride the pony. The Clydesdale.

[omnombeer]

• HAZY IPA • @mallaskoskenpanimo 🇫🇮 • New England IPA • 5.5% ABV There might still be a few snowpiles here and there. But, warmer weather has arrived. Time to bring out the summer beers. 🌞 Today I bring you a NEIPA from Mallaskosken Panimo. This is a beer that can be found in most Finnish supermarkets. Bright modern can art makes it stand out from the crowd. An easy pick. Oat and Dextrine malts are used in an attempt do give it a fuller and creamier mouthfeel. Mosaic, Amarillo and Cascade are in charge of the Hop Department. It pours murky orange. A big off white head that fades slowly and leaves THAT SEXY LACING. 😎👌 Stong citrusy aromas from the hops. Nice piney scents. Tropical fruits, like Mango and Pineapple.🍋🍍🥭 The flavour has a very good balance. Medium bodied and semi-creamy. Mango, Pineapple and Grapefruit mixed with piney notes. Followed by lemonpeel and a soft hoppy bitterness. The finish is short, a strategic hack to get the customers through the beer as fast as possible and on to the next one. ♻️ Did I expect it to be this god. NO I did not. A very pleasent surprise. If you live in Finland. You better try this beer! As I just said, the can will be easy to find. Go on then! 🇫🇮🛒 Cheers! 🍻 #mallaskoski #mallaskoskenpanimo #mallaskoski100 #neipa #ipa #beer #olut #newenglandipa #indiapaleale #beercan #beertography #beerpic #beerphoto #beers #instabeers #instabeer #pienpanimo #craftbeerbrewery #oat #cerveza #cerveja #beerblog #beerreview #beerblogger #paleale #drinklocal #seinäjoki #microbrewery #craftbeer #craftbeersonly (at Seinäjoki) https://www.instagram.com/p/CNsdTrWp3S3/?igshid=1k9utjtudlovn

[prosorinos]

In pairs

-

Sony A7II

Konica Minolta Big Beercan 75/300

[hanhan156]

Epilogue: Insomnia

I wasn’t really inspired by continuing Halloween fics (tbh, I think I’m not gonna finish those all by October because I’d prefer to make something I like to publishing something shitty everyday) today, so instead, I finished the next Stadium fic which has been in progress for way too long.

It’s an epilogue for the last chapter, and this time, from Richard’s POV with a nice flashback scene included. ^^

Epilogue: Insomnia

The petite figure was merging with the dark night and even though he tried his best, Richard couldn’t take his eyes off from the gorgeous silhouette - the one which had become so familiar over 25 years of knowing each other. After today’s unpredictable incidents though, Richard felt like he was looking at his old friend with brand new eyes - with a kind of vague yearning both in his heart and in his soul. The emotion made familiar lyrics to loop in his head:

Sehnsucht versteckt,

sich wie ein Insekt.

Im Schlafe merkst du nicht,

dass es dich sticht.

It was like an insect indeed - like an annoying, itching feeling inside he couldn’t shake off.

Sehsucht ist so grausam.

Richard could only wonder what was Paul now thinking of him - had he gone too far? He hoped they could talk all of this over as soon as possible. Sooner or later, he was sure that the uncertainty would make him crazy if he wouldn’t do anything about it.

Awoken from his thoughts by Paul’s waving and then making his way to the backyard, Richard knew he had to leave as well. It was indeed a bit weird to stalk his bandmate from the car at midnight, even though how pleasant it had been. For a second, Richard had considered that should he follow Paul and ask still the one last time what was going on. His friend hadn’t been behaving like himself at all even though he had been assuring that everything was fine. These moments, Richard hoped to have the superpower to read minds. It would have made the situation way less complicated and wouldn’t have left him with all the questions.  

The journey back home went on automation - even if there would have been police on the road, Richard wouldn’t have noticed anything. So many thoughts and concerns were revolving around his head that it was difficult to focus on anything that was going on outside.

Richard collapsed on the sofa with a huge sigh when he had finally reached his destination. His eyes were heavy as lead, but he couldn’t fall asleep. Instead, he tried his best to keep himself busy by putting the tv on maximum volume and lighting up probably the millionth cigarette today. Luckily, there was nobody complaining about smoking inside now.

A lady on the tv’s reality show was weeping when she had been voted out from his team, but Richard didn’t get what was going on in the mindless program even though his eyes were fixed on the screen.

Oh, Paul Landers, you sweet, sweet man, what have you done to me?

He tried to make sense of his feelings: what on earth had actually happened today? Of course, he knew the script very well: they had agreed to make this one little kiss on the stage, meant to be an innocent act. He and Paul were at first pretending it was nothing, no big deal - hell’s, they had performed embarrassing and awkward stuff together several times before. In the end, it had taken forever, and finally, when they’d had the courage to actually make it happen, Paul had fainted. Richard didn’t like that something he’d done had made his friend to feel sick.

Richard had been scared to death - in the worst scenarios in his mind he had thought that Paul wouldn’t have woken up anymore or would have had amnesia. What a nice start for a tour it would have been.

Holy shit.

And even more disturbingly, even though how sorry he was for Paul, he didn’t want to admit how much he had enjoyed the situation. Like a lively gif image, Paul with raised eyebrows, lurking him in, was looping in his already way too messed head. Richard had been sober as a judge the whole day, but still, a dizzy feeling was distracting him constantly - like he’d been drinking nonstop for a week and didn’t really know what was going on anymore. How could he make this to stop? Could he live his normal life, to proceed with their band and their tour, when he was having painfully strong feelings like this?

What if he hates me for the rest of his life because of this? At least he talked with me afterward, but what if he was just pretending, just being polite? Have I ruined everything now?

Nothing made sense anymore.

Despite all of this vague mess, from one thing Richard was completely sure: that thing which was painful to admit, yet so self-evident. It had been clear as a day for a long time, but he had tried to push the feeling away. So far, he had managed pretty well, but something about today had revealed it once again.

Love. The sweetest, yet the most hurtful word known in mankind - and he had been in love for so long now that it almost hurt physically.

The target of his desperate love wasn’t the easiest one indeed: his long-time friend, colleague and almost like a brother, their relationship slowly, but steadily developing and changing. Richard had tried to avoid thinking about it too much - he was totally sure that Paul wasn’t interested in him in that kind of way and their semi-romantic moments had been just playing in his friend’s opinion. Because Richard had always been a person who wasn’t ashamed of physical proximation - Till was still reminding him occasionally from that interview in which he’d hugged the poor girl when she had asked how Germans express their feelings - he had so far managed to use the trait as his excuse when something he’d done had raised questions.

But, of course, he couldn’t keep lying forever - neither to himself nor to others. Richard was totally sure that their bandmates - especially Till, whose eagle eye didn’t seem to miss anything - had started to suspect that there was something going on between the two guitarists.

Richard wrapped himself tightly in a blanket. He wished he would have been a chameleon and could blend into the sofa material - disappear from this planet and from all the conflicting human behavior and feelings.

He closed his eyes and tried - almost forced himself - to think about anything else, but the only thing that came to his mind was Paul.

P-A-U-L

A simple word, with four letters, but yet, the word which was capable of doing nasty things inside him. The word which had been the theme of his way too lively, even sensual, daydreams.

Sigh. Paul was so close to him, yet unreachable.

While being in a dream-like state, random memories and thoughts about his dearest bandmate looping on, the cinema of his mind sent him suddenly back to the early 90’s - back to the very first moment which had led to this eventually. At least it was something else than Paul with a kissing face, thank God.

The slightly moldy scent of their rehearsal room in the basement was still so vivid, even though it was already decades from that fateful night when Paul Landers had stepped into Richard Kruspe’s life.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Richard snorted. “Where on earth is this ‘second guitarist’ of yours you promised? It seems like he’s only in your imagination.”

“He promised to come, so we’ll wait,” Till said, trying to calm their edgy guitarist down.

They had been expecting the possible new player to show up at 6 pm - the clock on the wall showed it was 6:30 already. The lingering was especially difficult for Richard who had already earned his reputation of being an exaggeratedly strict and punctual person. “A perfectionist, straight from the infernal flames of Hell,” like Schneider had described.

“Flake knows the guy from their earlier band, and he assured he’s gonna be trustworthy,” Till said and was about to continue while the keyboardist shouted behind him: “He’s just really bad with schedules. I know him, he’s a gifted musician and a nice person. We should give him a chance. Let’s don’t judge him by this, ok?”

But Richard wasn’t convinced. He was always uncertain about meeting new people - he thought they could be a threat to him. “You really think so?”

“Let’s just be patient. I’m sure he has a good explanation for the delay,” Flake replied. He didn’t want to start an argument now.

“And why do we need a second guitarist anyway?” In Richard’s nightmares, the new guy would take his place and act as a bandleader - or even worse, be more gorgeous than him.

As usually, Schneider started to get annoyed at their guitarist. “You know very well that our riffs are so plain that we need something more. And, it’s always nice to have a new perspective as well. I agree with Till and Flake, we should wait and see who this guy is. If we don’t get along, we can dump him and that’s it. Not necessary to make so much drama out of this.”

The percussionist’s straightforward style of expressing opinions was unbearable for Richard. Till had joked that they often resembled two roosters having a fierce cockfight when they were arguing over which one of them was right.

“…you claim that I’m the one making drama?” the guitarist lashed out and approached Schneider, leering him. Every single time that particular gaze made the drummer uncomfortable. “Last time when I checked, it was this guy, who we don’t even know yet, who hadn’t kept his promise, so piss off for accusing me!”

“W…hat?” Schneider was so shocked about the insult that he froze for a moment.

When he had finally gathered his thoughts and was about to say something against, the guitarist was quicker and announced: “Screw this, I’m gonna have a smoke. Please let me know when this imaginative creature comes. If he doesn’t appear, I’m going home. I have more important things to do than to wait for him ‘til the end of the world.”

At the same time, while Richard was yelling, Schneider’s mom arrived with a bunch of freshly made sandwiches and beercans in her hands. She startled when they almost bumped into each other with the guitarist who was rushing outside.

“Hallo, wie geht es dir?” she asked with a sweet voice when she stood in the middle of their basement, now changed into her son’s and his friends’ rehearsal room.

“Gut, gut…we are Mama quite busy here now…”

Even though they all were adults already, Herr and Frau Schneider wanted to treat their son’s friends as a part of the family. The drummer thought it was embarrassing while the rest accepted offered food and drinks with pleasure - none of them showered in money, so they welcomed all free stuff they could get.

But Richard wasn’t interested in snacks now. He preferred to pout alone, enjoying his smoking moment.

The guitarist had pondered the band’s future quite a lot. Even though it seemed pretty promising, he doubted it now and then. Did this make any sense at all? Everyone around him had all of his life claimed that he should get a degree and get a real job - get a normal, adult life. He should take his head out of the clouds and be responsible. In a weak moment, when nothing had seemed to work out in his life, he’d been convinced that maybe he’d really been wrong. Maybe he should try this “adult life” thing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Not his dream, but a way to adapt to society, to make himself accepted - the first time in his life.

But all those doubts had vanished into thin air when he met Till Lindemann - a sensitive poet, who seemed to understand him completely even though they were so different as persons. What had brought them together were the crazy visions, the lust for life: the lust for being an artist and not to give a shit about what the others were thinking.

Richard knew in his heart his real dream: to express himself and to be respected by what he was doing. For Christ’s sake, life was too short not to be lived to the fullest, and music, that was his whole life. It was the torch of creativity he had to feed regularly - otherwise, he would slowly and painfully perish.

He sighed and looked at the sky, trying to blink back tears. The last thing he wanted now was to weep like a baby.

The sensitive thoughts didn’t have a chance to last for long though because they were interrupted by a distant, loud rattle - it sounded like somebody had made an orchestra out of pots and pans. Richard was sure it was the neighbor’s kids goofing around and didn’t mind about it so much at first.

But the noise kept getting closer and closer to the house - seemed like kids couldn’t have been blamed for it anymore.

Richard rubbed his eyes. What in God’s name is it?

The question got its answer in a minute when Richard saw a small cycling figure approaching the house with a huge guitar bag.

The figure - now Richard could see it was a blond man, probably around his age - stopped and so did the cacophony. “Is this…Christoph Schneider’s house?” he asked, still panting from the cycling.

“Yes.”

The incognito man smiled so brightly that it almost seemed like the whole dark street was suddenly lighted up. “Wunderbar! So umm, this band about Stein…something is rehearsing here, am I right?”

“Rammstein, yes.”

“Then I’m in the right place! And I’m terribly sorry I’m late, there was a huge traffic jam and I got stuck. Also, I didn’t realize this place was on the other side of the city.”

Richard didn’t reply anything - he kept staring at the distance, busy with smoking. Seemed like their new guitarist had finally appeared. He wasn’t sure, was he ready for this.

The guy left his wrecked bicycle - Richard could only wonder, what kind of torture the poor vehicle had been going through - in front of the house and with his guitar bag, came back to the other man. “So, we finally meet, I’ve been looking forward to this! Flake has told me so much about the new band project of yours. I’m Paul Landers,” he said and offered his hand.

But Richard acted like he had forgotten completely how human interactions worked. “Let’s go inside,” he answered nonchalantly to the other man’s friendly gesture. Paul almost had to run to keep up with his pace.

Finally, they both were in the basement and when Schneider’s mom saw there was a new guest in their house, she hurried to get a sandwich and a beer for Paul as well.

All of the band - except for Richard, who was still acting grumpy - greeted the new musician and with Flake, they hugged: it was nice to reunite after playing in the same band for so long.

“Okay, so what kind of music do you guys play?” Paul asked while munching his bread.

“It’s a bit difficult to explain. Maybe we’ll just play something and you’ll make your own opinion,” Flake answered.

“Do you want to hear the lyrics first?” Till asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, we have one completed song and it’s called Herzeleid.” Till looked at their possible new guitarist’s curious face and continued: “The other guys composed and arranged it and I wrote the text. Let us know what you think of it and please be straightforward, if it’s completely Scheisse.”

He cleared his throat and started to read the text out loud:

“Bewartet einander vor Herzeleid,

denn kurz ist die Zeit die ihr beisammen seid.

Denn wenn euch auch viele Jahre vereinen,

einst werden sie wie Minuten euch scheinen.

Herzeleid

Bewahret einander vor der Zweisamkeit.”

When Till had finished his recitation, nobody said anything for a while. The singer got a bit uneasy. “Yeah, well…I know the lyrics are a bit cheesy, I’m not sure from where they actually came from…” He knew very well that the text told about his own recent painful break-up, but he didn’t want to open up about his love life now.

Paul stood up and gave Till the brightest smile possible. “No need to worry, it was beautiful! Very heartbreaking and melancholic. You truly are a talented writer.”

Till wasn’t sure was the new guy flattering or did he really mean what he said. “Danke…”

“I’m curious to hear the whole song while already the lyrics sound so awesome.”

Richard was in a mood for challenging. “We are here to play so just grab your guitar and start.”

Paul took the last sip from his beer and said: “Yeah, sure, but can I get the chords or some kind of instructions? And is there a second amplifier somewhere? I couldn’t take mine on my bike.”

He expected to get at least some guidance, but to his surprise, there was none - Richard just started playing the heavy riff without even bothering to look at their new possible bandmember.

Okay, did I say something wrong, or is this how this band usually works? Well, if I want to be in, I just have to adapt, Paul thought, and with Flake’s help, got another, smaller amplifier. He tried his best to mimic the chords by ear and occasionally trying to stalk the lead guitarist - it was quite impossible though when he seemed to have turned his back from Paul on purpose.

Even though with all his best effort, Paul could hear he sounded like absolute bullshit. His precious instrument had turned into a torture machine - he could have never imagined he could create discords so horrible.

When the song ended he didn’t dare to look at anyone - maybe they had supposed that he would have had a perfect pitch and were now disappointed. He’d made them wait and it had ended up being a failure.

Scheisse.

Paul thought that maybe it would be best if he’d pack his things up and leave without saying anything. The cocky guitarist of this band seemed like he knew what he was doing so why he should be bothered any longer.

Till came next to the new player when he saw that he was visibly disappointed. “Es tut mir leid, Reesh isn’t the easiest person to deal with, he takes this band death seriously. It’s nothing personal against you,” the singer whispered so quietly that Richard couldn’t hear.

But Paul wasn’t convinced of the soothing words and continued with his packing. “C’mon, you have to admit that I sounded like shit.” He stopped for a while and nodded towards the lead guitarist. “I can see from his face that he’s unsatisfied. He probably hates me already. Maybe it’s better that I leave and you continue while you still have a good start here.”

Till tried his best to be supportive and explained: “None of us is a professional musician, so no worries. You at least tried your best. The only problem was that our little diva didn’t bother to tell you that the song is in drop D tuning. Let’s try again.” He squeezed the new player’s shoulder gently like begging him to stay with them.

Paul sighed. “Okay, one more time then.” Even though he was disappointed to himself he had an instinct that he should give it a try.

He grabbed his guitar back from the floor. “Let’s play.”

He didn’t know at that moment that the decision changed the band’s path completely.

After the surprisingly successful band practice, everybody had left except for the two guitarists who were having the last smokes before heading home.

“I really like what you have here. It seems promising and I’m more than happy to be a part of it. I can only imagine what we will achieve together.” He didn’t think that the band would get very popular - it was technically impossible to be world-famous with dark German lyrics and simple, aggressive riffs. At least he hoped they could record some albums and have small tours around Germany. To have fun and create art with a bunch of guys who seemed quite nice already.

To his utter surprise, the other man said unexpectedly: “I have to admit that you weren’t so bad at all in the end.”

“R-really?” Paul didn’t know his fellow guitarist so well yet, but he seemed very picky. Even this small kind of compliment must have been a huge thing from him.

Richard nodded. “After you figured the song out, you played just fine. I’m looking forward to what we can achieve together as well.” He turned and the first time that night looked at Paul straight in the eyes. “You passed the test. Welcome to the band.”

The target of the small compliment tried to act as casual as he could even though his heart started pounding disturbingly rapidly. He didn’t have any clue what this “test” he had just passed was, but it sounded nice to hear he had succeeded.

Paul cleared his throat and said: “One thing bothers me still though.” He came a bit closer and continued: “We didn’t say hi properly and actually, I haven’t even heard your whole name yet.”

Richard stared at the offered hand for a while, but finally - to Paul’s surprise and relief - he took it. “Richard.”

Paul couldn’t hide his smirking - the other man had announced his name so comically officially like he would have been the most important person walking on this earth. “Richard, who exactly?”

“C’mon, do you now want my social security number as well or what? Very well then, it’s 705…”

“What on earth you think I’d do with your social security number?” Paul interrupted even though he had to admit that he liked the new acquaintance's sarcastic sense of humor already. “Just that it would be nice to know the full name of the guy, whose band I’m apparently in now.”

Richard straightened his back and with another firm handshake, announced: “Richard Zven Kruspe, nice to meet you.”

“Paul Heiko Landers, pleased to meet you too.”

Richard knew from that moment he would never forget the name - the bond had been formed for eternity on that fateful night.

He sighed. Till death do us part, mein Paulchen.

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

CANONFIC: ...Five Golden Rings...

—

25th of December

It wasn’t until the doorbell rang just before midday that he realized the slowly growing anxiety he’d been feeling all morning had a very specific trigger. Grey’s eyes had blown wide at the sound and the heavy footfalls of Nana’s paws as she ran from the kitchen out the hall towards the front door with a bunch of cheery sounding barks. He could hear a muffled voice as if acknowledging her barks from outside before he felt a squeeze on his elbow as Jo passed him from where she was putting the pastry on the top of the pie for the day to go answer the door.

Grey turned his attention back to the oven as the little yellow egg shaped timer Jo had set for the oven to be turned down for the pork started going off - it’s shrill screeching filling the kitchen over the quiet ringing beeps of his phones alarm telling him to add the potatoes into the now boiling water and the soft sounds of Jo’s playlist of ‘acceptable’ music was still playing over the Bluetooth speaker near the kitchen table. And then the alarm from Jo’s phone set for the bacon bits that were just starting to catch on the bottom of the pan for the Brussels sprouts began to join in the cacophony of noises, adding yet another thing he had to take care of right away; and Grey could almost not hear any of it as the sound of his heart beat started thudding over the top of it all in his ears.

The morning had been unusually stressful for him - especially given how nice it would have been otherwise. He’d been woken up by Jo quiet early with happy cuddles and kisses, before they had started getting ready for the day. This would not be particularly different from any other day that the hunter was at home, if it hadn’t been for the noticeable amount that the blonde was touching him in cuddles or gentle brushes of a hand against him or lips pressed to his cheek among other places. Grey wasn’t sure what had spurred the behavior on, however whatever it was made Jo seem to smile a lot and also helped smooth down the growing anxiety every time she touched him. But regardless he found himself winding tighter and tighter as he first burnt the breakfast pancakes, then the first round of bacon for the sprouts caught as well, followed swiftly by the pork not being properly defrosted despite it having been brineing for over a day and then the potatoes had strange green spots all over that he needed to cut out and prepare extra carefully. Every single element he touched seemed to develop a problem, and right beside him, Jo’s apples cooked down to a perfect golden consistency, her pie crusts rolled out and baked beautifully, and the shadow found himself sighing longingly looking at the final product that her hands had touched - both for the food itself and for how easy she made it look. And yet it took until hearing the sound of the hunters’ voices bleeding through the house to allow him to realise that it was their arrival he’d been the most tense about.

“Hey Jo-” “How’s your day going, Joey?” “Merry Christmas, Jo!”

“Hey guys, come on in - oh gifts! The trees in the lounge that way, Dean.” Jo replied happily, and Grey felt his cheeks burning hot to hear the words that the others had brought something. He figured it was all for Jo, but that in and of itself made him flush in happiness - she deserved to be spoiled by someone other than just from him for once. “I’ve got some beers in the fridge, or juice or soda for this time of day, coffee, tea? I made some eggnog too-”

“I’ll go get us stuff, Jo, you stay and catch up, I know Bobby had some hunt or other for you,” The cheery voice of the one hunter that the shadow was quite happy to catch up with bounced down the hallway, growing louder as the tall hunter began towards the kitchen. “Grey’s in the kitchen?”

“Yep! Remind him about the bacon!”

Grey started hearing that shout, spinning about to look at the fry pan in time to see the diced bacon starting to move towards more black than golden browned. “Oh fuck!” Jumping towards the fry pan, pulling it quickly from the heat and tipping the bacon bits into an awaiting bowl with a relieved sigh before turning towards the potatoes. “God damn, did I not-”

“Hey Grey, how are you doing?” The voice surprised him for a moment, before the shadow was equally surprised to see two big hands picking up the bowl of unpeeled potatoes thoughtfully. “Need a hand?”

“You any good at peeling?” “Sure thing, I guess.” “Oh man, you are a life saver, Sam. Happy holidays-” “You too. So, peel these and then in the water?”

Grey found himself nodding as the hunter moved over to the island to start working on the vegetables and the next time he span around after cranking the heat down on the oven to see the hunter also chopping and quartering the tubers before dumping them back into the bowl. The shadow felt a small part of the anxiety starting to alleviate as Sam fumbled awkwardly and clumsily at the cuts and peeling - making him feel slightly better compared to working alongside his girl.

“Thanks so so much, Sam. I really needed the help.” Grey said gently as he moved to take the broccoli and cauliflower from the fridge and began cutting them up as well and spilling them into a casserole dish. “Jo’s been amazing but-”

“She’s been a bit distracted?” Sam finished for him, a small quirk to his lip as he looked across at the other man with a wry smile. “Yeah, I’ve had much the same with Dean all morning.”

“Really?” Grey looked surprised, a brow quirking straight upwards as he carefully cut the florets from the steams. “Christmas is just that stressful, huh?”

“Not so much stressful-” “..Oh! He that excited then?” “No! Not at all. Dean, well.. Dean’s always a little too thoughtful on Christmas.”

There was a long paused between them, and Grey found himself dropping his eyes directly to the dish of vegetables awkwardly as he realized he might have just put his foot in it. That perhaps Christmas was just an exciting and fun time for Jo, rather than a typical or true human experience. That maybe the way Jo had never seemed too thrilled about the celebration until they’d been living together for almost a year was more reflective of the tradition than her usual excitement and enjoyment of the time of year. “I haven’t just upset-”

“Oh don’t worry Grey,” Sam replied, shaking his head with the smallest crease forming between his brows as the hunter frowned a little to himself. “It’s just Dean who gets emotional about it. He remembers Christmas when mom was still alive, I’ve only ever really known the uh, road-type Christmas.”

Grey definitely felt he’d put his foot in it then, spinning around and grabbing the cheese bechemel sauce off of the stove top and pouring the mixture over the florets. Absolutely definitely put his foot in it.

Coughing slightly, the shadow looked up at the other with an apologetic look. “Um... What’s... if you don’t mind me asking that is... what’s a road-type Christmas?”

The taller hunter let out a bit of a laugh as he cut more of the potatoes up and dropped them into the bowl with a thoughtful sight. “Well, definitely not like this. Dad would usually be away on some hunt, and Dean and I’d be stuck waiting around in some dinky hotel room with some beercan wreath on the door.” Sam let out another laugh and shook his head as he finished the last of the potatoes and looked at him questioningly. “In the water?” As soon as Grey gave an awkward nod of his head, the other poured them into the boiling salted water before leaning up against the counter and crossing his arms. “And come Christmas morning, if we were lucky Dad’d be back and fast asleep on the couch - but that was far less likely than the other years where there’d be a few presents wrapped up in newspaper on the table for me. Me only, never anything for Dean - if you catch my drift. Beers in the fridge?”

Grey nodded again as he covered the top of the cauliflower bake with a sprinkling of breadcrumbs and a shaking hand. The meaning was so clear, as was the soft way the hunter was speaking about his brother and the so evident desire to have a drink talking or reminiscing about those type things. Jo did it sometimes - when she had said something about making her mother’s apple pie “like Dad always liked” for Christmas last week, was the most recent time he could think of - and the shadow bit down on his lip gently watching as the other moved about grabbed himself a bottle. He could practically picture it, a small pile of shoddily wrapped gifts and as Grey flicked a glance across at the other, he figured they probably all still had their price tags on and no receipts for them.

“But Dean always tried hard to give us a good holiday.” The other continued talking as he cracked the top off of his bottle and then sighed. “And sometimes Dad’d drop us off at Bobby’s instead - so I think having him around might just help Dean relax a little. That, and Jo of course.”

“Yeah, of course.” Grey replied quietly as he gave the potatoes a stir and pulled a tray of sprouts out of the oven before rolling them in with the bacon - staring at the bottle of Siracha that Jo had suggested earlier, before thinking better of it and pouring in a glug of the maple syrup instead. “I know Jo is real excited for you guys to be here.”

“I’m real excited for it too - I haven’t really had a proper Christmas since I left Stanford and the year before with Jess-” “Jess?” “My girlfriend. Well, I think she would have been my fiance, but I didn’t get to ask before the demons got her.” “Oh I’m so-” “Grey! Don’t worry about it. That was years ago.”

“Still, Sam, I’m sorry.” Grey shook his head and fumbled putting the sprouts back in, burning his hand on the hot metal tray and letting out a little hiss before healing it quickly at once rather than running it under the cold water - if Jo came in and thought he’d hurt himself, she would not let him hear the end of it. “I didn’t know-”

“It’s absolutely fine. I’m really looking forward to it today, and so happy you guys are going well and having us today.”

Grey flushed at the appreciative tone from the other, opening his mouth to reply before there was a gruff call from the front lounge about drinks or something to that effect. The other man shrugged a shoulder sharply for a moment before letting out a laugh and a ‘be right there’. Grabbing two bottles, he gave a short salute to the shadow before disappearing into the hall leaving Grey to tug at his apron awkwardly before focusing back on preparing their meal with slightly less anxiety than he had before hand and a little more relaxed movement as he started getting the rest of the meal together.

---

It was thankfully warm in the lounge this year - the heater being fixed over the last few years making the entire place filled with a warmth that piling on blankets couldn’t quite achieve - but it wasn’t all from the heating as Jo perched comfortably on the arm rest of the arm chair. Looking on as Bobby continued to harass the other hunter about how long it took the brothers to locate and take care of the ghost hunt they’d just finished up; the blonde smiled a little too widely at having them both around for this time of year.

“Whatever, Bobby, they mislabeled his grave-” “Oh really? I don’t think that’s what I heard from Sam.” “What’d Sammy have to say then?” “Someone went and hurt their arm and bitched and whined about digging some grave for a while.” “That was a valid complaint, we got told the wrong cemetery and there was even two named the same.”

“You didn’t think to look at the dates on it before digging?” Jo quipped up, smiling to herself as she watched Dean’s ears get redder. “But that’s fine Deano, it can take a while sometimes.”

“God, you two picking on me on today of all days.” Dean replied, scowling to himself as he flicked his feet up onto the coffee table alongside the drink Sam brought in with a sigh before disappearing back to the kitchen again. “Besides, it’s Christmas. We shouldn’t be talking shop.”

“Oh that reminds me, what was that hunt ‘bout Bobby?” Jo blinked a few times, suddenly remembering that the older hunter was bringing her a case. “You bring the files?”

“All right here for you, Jo. Suspect it might be either a witch or a siren possibly-”

Her eyes went wider at that, smiling slightly wider as the older hunter lent forward in his own chair to fish a pile of papers from his bag and slid them across the coffee table towards her instead. Picking them up and flicking through the pages, Jo bit down the pleased smile at having something she hadn’t really faced herself in a while.

“If you think it’ll be too much for one-” “Why would I think that?” “Pairs are better with sirens, Joey. Dean here could tell you how poorly his last one-” “Hey, that was an uncomfortable time for us and it wasn’t my fault.” “Just watch what you drink and make sure to bring a partner along for it.”

“I’ll check in with a few of the guys - maybe Garth or William’ll be available.” Jo replied distractedly, flipping through the pages at the police records of dead girlfriends, fiances, wives and sister’s of six different men who had all been arrested red handed and claimed they weren’t in control of themselves at the time. It smelt like a siren, but it also could very easily be the work of a coven of jealous women given how unrelated the men seemed to be. “We’ll get on it right after New Year rather than deal with windin’ ‘cross the country in this kinda traffic.”

“And if you can’t get another, let me and Sam know and we’ll divert if you need-” Jo flapped her hand at the other hunter’s offer, smiling again before she heard the high pitched beeping of the oven alarm echoing down the hall. Dean’s head jerked up as well, and she almost laughed watching as the hunter lifted his nose to the air and sniffed loudly. “Is that lunch ready?”

Jo found herself nodding and tidying up the papers into a folder quickly while the other hunters got themselves to their own feet. It was almost synchronized how the trio moved out of the room and then down into the kitchen where the shadow and tall, lanky hunter were moving about the kitchen. Jo bustled straight past to throw her file on the top of the fridge and turned about.

“Boys have a seat, relax - oh thanks Sam for gettin’ those drinks out, Dean jacket off at the table, no no Bobby you don’t need to take the cap off clearly - hun, everythin’ looks amazing.” Jo found herself slipping into the position of hostess far too quickly without realizing, pointing a hand here and there as she let out instructions while the three other hunters made their way around the table and settled down. The other man however was still tugging pans out of the oven and mashing the potatoes, cream and butter together in the dry pot. The blonde watched for a second, a soft smile on her face, before shifting behind him to untie the back of the apron they shared on different occasions and pull the fabric from around his waist with a laugh. “Hun, you can sit down too - you’ve been on your feet all mornin’.”

“Oh no, I’ve still got so much to do left.” “I can handle it, you should relax-” “Jo, it’s fine, I’d much rather finish-” “I know, just-”

As the two were still bickering back and forth as to the division of the last work, everyone froze at the sound of the front door bell ringing through the house. There was a long and quiet moment before the sound of knuckles rapping on the door began at a rapid beat, before a loud singsong voice came through the doors, “Brother~ Merry Christmas~!”

“Is that-” Jo started asking before the shadow suddenly went barrelling down the hallway, wooden masher in hand and small clumps of potato dropping in a trail behind him. The sound of the front door opening and hushed voices alongside a loud ‘But I wanted to say hi to Cupcake!’ coming down the hall settled her mind as to exactly who was at the front door.

“Jo, who’s the newcomer?” Bobby’s voice rumbled from the head seat of the table that Jo had pointed him towards, a curious yet concerned look on his face as the sounds of the shadows’ voices rose slightly with the odd barked ‘You’re not supposed to be here’ bounced down the hall. “Didn’t know you had more guests coming.”

“Sounds like it’s Grey’s sister, Shada.” “He’s got a sister?” “Yes, Dean, he as a sister. He’s also got brothers too. There are a lot of them you know.” “No need to get testy with him, Jojo. He was just asking. Is this sister staying for lunch?”

“Oh! That’s a great idea, Bobby!” Jo cried in response, turning around to put her own utensils down and move towards the door to the hall. Looking out, she let out a loud laugh at the sight of Grey trying to guide his sister out the front door, as the other shadow decked out in all black with a purple and black Santa hat tried to push her way past to the Christmas tree with a huge number of shopping bags and gift wrapped presents despite the other’s babbling. “Hey Shada!” The blonde called from the door, waving a hand as the brunette turned to spot her - an equally wide smile on both girl’s faces - before pointing a hand towards the lounge. “You can put the gifts in there and we’ll get another chair at the table.”

“Jo, what are you-” Grey asked quietly as he stepped back at the happy squeal from his sister, before the younger shadow bounced a few times on her heels and pushed her way into the lounge with a grin. “Jo...we can’t have her and them both over.” He moved along the hall, and Jo found herself smiling wider at the uncertain look on the shadow’s face before he tilted his head back at her and his eyes darted between the lounge where they could hear the odd clattering or rustle of the Christmas tree and a few of the noisier ornaments and the kitchen entry where there was the quiet yet gruff sounds of the hunters talking. “Can we?”

Jo paused for a moment, before smiling even wider as she stepped into the other’s space, an arm going up around his neck as she pulled him down gently for a sweet kiss at his concerns. “Of course we can, the more the merrier!”

---

Lunch hadn’t been nearly as tense as he had thought it might be.

Which really meant, that he was sat on needles the whole duration - hissing quietly when his sister stared a little too long and appeared to tilt her head a little too listeningly towards any other person at the table, mumbling awkward thanks to the flurry of compliments that came from both Sam and Jo regarding the food, and trying not to focus too hard on the way both Dean and Bobby would occasionally stare at himself or Shada a little too disconcertingly - but nothing seemed to go terribly wrong. That was probably all down to Jo’s peacekeeping and bubbly nature more than any work from himself, but Grey couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh as he finished emptying the last of the leftover roast vegetables and a slice of pork into the last Tupperware container to be stored in the fridge for a later meal.

Jo had turned on her heel and within a minute had a sixth space made up at the table between Grey at the opposite end of the table to Bobby and Dean on one of the sides. The shadows were sat next to one another as well as one Winchester facing the perk brunette and one on the other end, while Jo’d placed herself in the perfect spot to get up and down frequently to refill glasses or bring over more apple sauce and gravy. It had been tense for all of three minutes before Sam asked Shada about her Christmas traditions and the whole table got a laugh out of the jingle of the girl’s buckles on her shoes and her exclamation that it was her first ever Christmas celebration. It seemed to put the two remaining hunters at ease to consider that there was no way they could make such an auspicious occasion go poorly. It possibly also helped that the brunette shadow had turned her attention quickly to the hunter next to her and begun to flirt up a storm - if Dean’s cheeks were less that red for a whole minute of lunch, it had to be a minute that Grey didn’t get to see himself.

Conversation had flowed mostly calmly, excluding one long tense moment when the oldest hunter made some comment about how normal the event seemed to be going “considering” that both shadows jerked uncomfortably about; as well as a brief staring match between Dean and Shada after Jo’d lent over the table in her almost gaping sweater to pass the other hunter a beer, and the time when Jo asked quietly but unfortunately in a lull in the other conversations if Sam had “seen any familiar faces recently” that caused both other hunters to query her meaning and the two involved to glow bright red themselves. Grey overall sat mostly quietly and outwardly calmly, as he fought to keep himself from talking over or shooing out his sister every few minutes, and to keep from apologizing for the sixteenth time for the bacon being a little too crispy or the pork crackling being a little under done.

But otherwise, everything had gone well - and as the sound of barking from the dog could be heard from the laundry as it hit near two in the afternoon, Jo had gotten up with a clap of her hands and a suggestion they move to the lounge for “pie, presents and maybe Die Hard” for the afternoon while Jo took Nana to the backyard and Grey put the leftovers away. Grey’s eyes had widened at the idea, right up until Sam’s mitt of a hand had laid on his shoulder and there was a whispered promise that his sister would be fine for a few minutes.

“You doin’ okay, Grey?” The voice surprised him, and the shadow almost dropped the lid he was putting into place as he looked up to see the soft smile he was receiving. Jo’s cheeks and nose were bright pink from the cold wind out the back, and the fluffy dog’s own nose was pressed sharply against his leg begging for the last big of pork that he quickly fed her. “It’s not.. I hope you’ve been havin’ a good time.”

“Of course I have, Jo.” “Well, that’s good. I was worried it might be a little-” “Too much? No, pretty one, I’m going good. The hard part is all done now with the food out of the way.” “And packed away too.”

Grey let out a laugh at the grin he got then as they worked in tandem to pile the containers neatly into the fridge before Grey moved to take the whipped cream out of the fridge in return while Jo moved towards the oven where the pies had just been warming through. Bobby had already taken a few bowls and spoons through to the lounge earlier while Sam and Dean alike had taken a few beers, a couple of cans of soft drink and also a jug of extremely spiked egg nog Jo had been making batches and batches of since she’d gotten home the week before. Shada had simply bounced excitedly around, and offered but not actually helped anyone before going to the lounge with the others; and Grey couldn’t help but smile back as Jo cuddled against his side with that frilly pink apron of their’s around her own waist and two baby blue oven mitts on each of her hands.

“So just gotta get the pies out, and then Dean’ll be in such a good mood the afternoon’ll be a breeze.” Jo replied, smiling up at him widely and so sweetly that he found himself leaning in for her lips now that the stressful part of the day had gone by without any bloodshed or nastiness. She still tasted like apple sauce, and Grey almost couldn’t tell if it was the pie in the oven, the apples from lunch or the vanilla of her hair that made him think she tasted sweeter than anything else they would have that day. Jo lent equally into the kiss, the stroke of the mitt against the back of his hair made him want to laugh. “You take the cream, I’ll bring the pies?”

“Sure thing, Jo.” Grey smiled back, scooping up the bowl before heading into the lounge and only pausing to send the dog up the stairs with a gentle yet firm command and a very large rawhide bone from the secret treat box in the hall.

Entering the lounge, the shadow was almost not surprised to see his sister sitting on the arm rest of the couch closest to Dean, eyes fluttering as both parties sipped a large mug of eggnog; while Sam sat at the other end of the couch nearest the armchair that the oldest hunter had made himself comfortable in - those two talking quietly and disinterested in the other two’s behavior at all. Grey shuffled forward and sat the bowl down on the coffee table amidst the drinks with ease before pulling a few books out from in the drawers to act as heat mats as Jo came to rest her pumpkin and apple pies down right behind him.

“Now, the pies need another ten to cool down, so uh... I know I didn’t say anythin’ about presents but-” The blonde started, shuffling her feet awkwardly in a self-conscious way that Grey hadn’t seen in a while as he moved to sit down, eyes trained straight on her cautiously and concerned at the awkward scratching at her neck that was all too familiar of his own nervous tics. “Well, I’ve got some things for everyone.”

“Sounds good, Jo, we got you and Grey a few things too.” The youngest hunter replied, a genuine smile on his face as Sam tossed his head back to push back his hair for a moment. His eyes moved from Jo’s face and over to meet Grey’s, the smile tugging up a little wider at what Grey was sure was his own surprised look. “And Bobby, of course.”

“Well, at least I wasn’t the only idjit to bring something.” Bobby grumbled out in response, fiddling with his cap before he reached out for his beer with a groan. “Sorry to the other- to Shada for not knowing she would be here.”

“Oh? Oh no. No that’s..” Grey was actually surprised to see how quickly his sister noticed the comment, as well as at the slight blush that started across her face. Shada tossed her hair back for a moment as she laced her fingers together over her crossed knee with a small smile. “That’s absolutely fine, mister. I didn’t know I would be here too.”

“Well, I couldn’t very well send you away!” Jo cried in response, an almost horrified look on her face at the idea before she turned towards the tree and clapped her hands a bit. “Regardless, I’ll start handin’ out for everyone then, right?” At the sound of murmured agreement - as well as one lone whine from Dean about eating the pie regardless of how hot it was - the blonde moved over to the tree and began handing out both boxes and bags of varying sizes to the other hunters.

Grey could feel his own cheeks burning when he recognized three of them as his own wrapping and gifting attempts - and he caught Jo’s eye as she handed the last of them to Dean, a small twinkle of mischief in her eye that made him flush at the realisation he hadn’t been as sneaky as he thought buying and then hiding them just in case it wasn’t on the cards for the day.

The next moment the room was filled with the very loud and tone deaf sound of a harmonica screech, and all eyes went straight to the lighter haired hunter, with the instrument to his lips and a twerk of a grin to them as well. “Fucking hell, Jo, how’d you know?” Dean asked as he lowered the silver, engraved instrument with a laugh. “Now I can really drive Sammy nuts with my drive to be Cool Hand Luke.”

“Oh you know me, I pick things up.” “You’re a goddamn menace you know that?” “Would you rather the 20-pack of socks and jocks I thought to get you instead.” “Of course, not. And, uh, thanks for the new journal yo- uh, Grey.”

“You’re welcome.” The shadow replied, the flush still in full force as he noticed the way the hunter seemed to stroke the empty leather bound journal - so similar to the three seperate ones that Grey had seen Jo carry around with her constantly when preparing for a hunt - that he thought the other might need a fresh one of. “I, uh, hope it comes in handy. I know that Jo goes through them like Nana goes through chew toys.”

“It definitely will. Thanks again you two.” Dean’s own smile was a little wider than Grey had ever seen it, and as the hunter lent forward and took another large gulp of his eggnog drink, he couldn’t help but realise Jo had managed to find the best way to keep the other in a good mood came from a bottle and was mixed with the sweet and subtle spice of the drink of the season. “What’d you end up gettin’ Sammy?”

“Some new books and a- Jo, are you trying to say something?” “What? Me? Never!” “I know that’s a lie and a half if I ever heard one.” “Oh what? Just cause I thought you could use somethin’ to keep track of all those damn walks you take.” “A fucking FitBit though?” “Seemed like a good idea at the time!”

The pair of younger hunters both were laughing though, and Grey could tell there were no hard feelings as Jo moved around to squish herself into the arm chair alongside him as Sam cracked open the box of the device the other had gotten him. Grey was just glad that Sam had seemed more pleased with the small trio of sci-fi novels that he’d gotten for the other to give him something to read other than work for once.

The eldest hunter was chuckling to himself as well, looking between the bottle of liquor Jo had gotten him and the pages and pages of paper that Grey had painstakingly translated the last book Jo had borrowed from the other written in Enochian for him. It had seemed like a strange idea at the time for a gift, but not knowing the other well enough to go out and buy anything - and seeing Jo struggling with her eyes cramping and rubbing her temples when Grey had watched her trying to do it for himself, the idea had just stuck with him. It wasn’t a particularly helpful book in his mind - mostly just descriptions of how Heaven functioned rather than anything of note for a hunter like Bobby - but it would save the other a lot of stress and time, Grey was absolutely sure of that.

“Oh, let me give you yours next you two!” The other shadow had watched patiently and quietly as the three hunters had unwrapped their own gifts, but as soon as it was clearly they were more focused on viewing their own items and distracted, she was out of her perch and piling the huge number of bags towards Jo and Grey. “I really hope you enjoy them! Some are from our little sister too.”

“I’m sure we will.” Grey replied congenially as he shifted his weight slightly so Jo could slip more comfortably into the chair space tightly beside him, an arm wrapping around her waist as the blonde started to tear open carelessly her own gifts with a smile. Both shadows missed the confused look on the blonde’s face, but Grey was tickled pink at the idea of their youngest and newest sister was already embracing human culture and holidays so quickly.

“Oh Shada, you shouldn’t have!” Jo looked down at the sheer pile of presents, and even more wide eyed as she opened them and laid each new item of clothing or accessory gently out into a nice folded pile on her lap. There were a few dresses - one that Grey caught sight of the plunging neckline of and could feel the flush of his cheeks rising again imagining getting to take Jo out somewhere in that some day soon - and a few warmer coats and boots - all extremely practical but clearly expensive designers that the other had gone out of her way to collect. There was also a tiny baby pink wrapped gift that held a baby pink dog lead in it that matched the baby pink dog chew toy that had been in a pink wrapped box for the shadow - both marked “For Doggie’s Parents”. Grey found his own pile much the same growing as well, and when they’d both finished with their own gifts, Jo placed her pile ontop of his own and gave a small nod before the shadow quickly vanished them away upstairs before the other hunters could notice.

“You’re so so welcome, cupcake! I’m sure brother will like some too.” “Shada.” “What? I have fantastic taste, and I know how gorgeous your little human is.” “...Shada-” “Oops! But it’s true, and you both definitely need a little bit of a style upgrade quality wise.”

“Shada...” Grey growled the name out for a third time, pinning his sister with a sharp look as the other appeared to focus more upon her nails before a rather sizeable black wrapped box and the smaller box he knew to contain a present from him and Jo both were placed upon the shadow’s lap by the blonde. “I’m in half a mind to take those back.”

“Oh no, you couldn’t! Please don’t.” “Don’t worry, Shada, he’s only teasin’.” Jo cut in before he could, a smile plastered widely upon her face as she moved towards the other end of the coffee table to look over the pages all three other hunters were pouring over from Bobby’s own present.

“Fine, you can have them.” Grey added, smiling gently at his sister as she unwrapped the smallest box carefully - the paper folded neatly the same way that he had done his own - before she cracked open the jewelry lid to see the engraved silver locket necklace Jo had picked out for this very reason. “Jo, uh, picked the locket and I-”

“Oh my...” Shada’s voice was practically a whisper as she popped open the locket to see the tiny drawings inside - one half filled with a sketch from a photo of the pair of siblings staring up at her, and the other half a tiny landscape painting of the lake at sunrise with the glow of the sun that never quite happened in their native home. “You...you didn’t need to-”

“I had said I wished I could give you a painting, and, well, Jo suggested you could have something to always take it with you.” The shadow stumbled oved his words, twisting his hands nervously as he watched the other stare down at the locket in silence for a long second before she raised her eyes, a little bit watery but definitely happy, towards him. In a flash the necklace was around her neck, and her fingers were stroking over the intricately carved face of the locket with a very small but significant smile on her face. Grey coughed slightly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not sure what else we got you though-”

“I love surprises!” Shada replied, slightly squealing before definitely squealing as she got the wrapping paper off to see a shoe box with the label of some designer or other looking up at her. Grey felt his own eyes widen before darting across to where Jo was getting lessons on how to play the harmonica really poorly from Dean, shocked to see the brand name and the classic red bottoms when the lid came off to reveal the purple, crystal covered heels. “Oh. Mother. You guys didn’t...”

“No, I think, uh, that’s um... that’s all from Jo.” “Please tell me you’re going to keep her forever, brother. Pretty please.” “What?!” “Whatever the term those humans use... Marry? Mary? Mary Aged? Please tell me you’ll do it, because she will be the best sister I’ve ever had.”

“Don’t worry, Shada, she’s not going anywhere.” Grey mumbled the words out quietly as he bit down on his lip gently, looking across and catching Jo’s eye as she looked between the two shadows curiously at their almost silent conversation. He knew that she would ask him about it later, but that gave him plenty of time to come up with a cover story for the blonde as he caught his sister stroking each of her presents one after the other out of the corner of his eye.

There was a long moment where the air was soft before Dean pushed himself away from the small group of hunters to fish out four gifts from the diminishing pile - one going to each of the other hunters, and then one small rectangle held out to Grey. “Merry Christmas or whatever, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks Dean. You too.” He replied gently as he took the gift, slowly unwrapping the newspaper wrapping as he had with all the others as if there was no different between the use of the newspaper or wrapping paper alike. Inside was a small water color paint palette which Grey found himself smiling over. “Really, thank you. This is really useful and nice.”

“No problem, man. I’m... glad you like it.” “I just had some of my other paints crack, so I really do appreciate it.” “Oh, well, that was good timing then. Sammy had said you were artsy.” “That’s one word for it.”

Grey found himself chuckling as he replied, shifting in his seat to lean into the coffee table drawers to pull open the one he stored most of his arts materials in with a smile. He looked up as he slid the palette away to see the hunter also smiling, a little too bemused.

As Bobby and Jo also thanked Dean for their gifts - a new EMF reader for Jo and a bottle of some obscure whiskey for Bobby - Sam too handed out his presents for the rest of them. Grey was unsurprised to find his was a set of paint brushes, but you could never have too many, and they went straight in the drawer with his thanks as well.

“Jo, you forgot to get yours from me from down there before.” Grey quipped quietly as the blonde had finally moved back to share a hug with the still awestruck shadow-girl as Sam and Bobby began talking about the benefits of one whiskey over another at Sam’s gift for the older hunter being much the same as the other two’s. “It’s the yellow one.”

“I forgot yours too.” Jo chirped back, though as she moved towards the tree to pick up the decently sized gift which held a blue sweater, some sunflower earrings he thought she would like, and a more polished sketch of the two of the lake they’d visited the last month together with the dark sillohettes of two people pressed up against each other a tree that he thought she might like a momento of - Grey couldn’t help but notice how bright a blush was forming across her face and the way her fingers shook a little as she handed him a very thin envelope. “I, uh, hope you get to, um, really enjoy it.”

Grey waited until he’d seen her unwrap and smile brightly - fingers running across the sketch gently to avoid smudging it, before actually putting her earrings straight in instead of the gold sleepers she usually wore - before he slid a finger under the envelope flap and pulled out the rather simple looking Christmas card curiously. Raising a brow at Jo, who he noticed had gotten even darker a flush on her cheeks, he flipped open the card before sucking in a breath in surprise at the first thing he saw. There was a small stack of polaroids in the card, and all clearly fairly recent since the dark blue comforter on the bed that Jo had only changed over to in the last week was visible beneath the long, tan legs in the photo. His brain took a moment to catch up with his eyes to the sexy posing and the array of five differently designed lingerie sets that the blonde sported in the photos of her on their bed, but when it did his fingers twitched with the desire to find out if she had one of them, if any, on right then and there under her baggy sweater and jeans. “I...”

“What’d you get, Grey?” Sam’s voice cut over his thoughts and he continued to flick back and forth between the pictures, drinking in the expanses of skin as well as just how pretty the designs of the lingerie Jo picked out where, before shaking his head and noticing one more thing in the card being two tickets to the new Star Wars film.

“Just some movie tickets-” “Really, Jo? You got him movie tickets?” “Fuck off Dean, it’s none of ya business.” “But movie tickets? Why would you get him movie tickets when you got me Loubs, cupcake?” “I just...”

“I am definitely looking forward to seeing my gift with Jo later, guys.” Grey cut across the teasing and picking that was starting, eyes barely being able to be drawn away from the pictures in his hand before he let out a cough and jerked his eyes over to Jo’s blushing face. Smirking a little, the shadow slid his card and gift back into the envelope before disappearing them upstairs as well, leaning towards the blonde with an unconsciously hungry look. “I am certain I’m going to enjoy it very much.”

There was a long moment before the sound of a cough distracted the pair, eyes going wide when they both jerked their heads to see a knowing look on the oldest hunter’s face as he moved out of his chair with a groan. “If you two are quite done talking about... whatever other than movie tickets was in that card. I’ve got you two something. As well as you boys.”

“Bobby you didn’t-” “Shut up, Jo, you’re going to take it and enjoy it, okay?” “Yessir.”

Grey found himself with a lapfull of blonde in a way he was going to fight hard to ignore as the eyes of the others all fell on them as Bobby handed Jo a large leather bound photo album, and a similar but smaller one to both the other hunters to share as well. It seemed like a strange gift, given the albums were clearly not new or chosen specifically for purpose, but Grey found by the third page he didn’t much care as Jo let out a pained sounding gasp at the turn of the page. There was a photo of some baby in some man’s arms - the only part of the holder visible was a pointed scruffy beard, a leather jacket and a blue-and-grey flannel underneath - but Grey couldn’t help but look at Jo’s face in confusion as she ran her finger over it repeatedly. “What’s wrong, Jo..”

“Where did you find this, Bobby?” “Found some old things of his up in the attic last Summer.” “Some?” “Well, that photo I already had on hand, but the others-” “Others?!”

Jo let out a strange noise between a gasp and a cry as she flipped the next few pages to see more photos of what must be the same man from different angles, but somehow never a full face - always either blocked out by the sun or shade, or cut off as the focus of the photo became about the baby, then little blonde toddler, and then a little blonde girl in pigtails that stared up at the man out of the image in wonder - and Grey felt a sinking, painful knot in his stomach realizing exactly what and who he was looking at. He looked up to catch his sister’s eye, staring at Jo like any other shadow would from the range of extremely complex emotions rolling off of her like a wave, while he raised his hand to rub gently at her back.

Around the twentieth page, the photos changed from ones of the young girl and never-visible man and a dark haired woman who had a smile like Jo’s, as well as various other men in flannels or henleys with leather or khaki jackets and the little girl - one which looked surprisingly a lot like the cap-wearing hunter in the room with them, and another that looked strangely familiar but Grey couldn’t put his finger on it - before there was a rather large photo in the centre of a page with just the hunter himself and a beautiful blonde woman beside him, both smiling to the camera.

“Bobby... Who’s this?” Jo asked quietly, pointing at the photo as the older hunter shuffled over to have a look before he moved away to start cutting up slices of pie accommodatingly while the others were pouring over their photo albums - the other pair of hunters looking and pointing and smiling at various elements in their book, which Grey would steal a look of later to see mostly photos of the two of them through the years doing kid things or working on cars or playing ball with Bobby that made his heart clench all over again to see.

“That? That’s Eleanor - she was a lovely, lovely lady.” Bobby replied, piling slices of pie into a few different bowls before taking one of the apple slices for himself and sitting back down in the other armchair with a sigh and a sip of his drink. “Your man should know who that is, and I thought he might appreciate a few photos of his own.”

“What..” Grey frowned slightly, looking down at the photo again for a moment before the name clicked for him. He knew who this was staring up at him, and suddenly felt the same lurch he knew that Jo must have felt seeing the cut off chin of her father. “Is this?”

“Yeah it is, son. I’m sorry I didn’t have too many.”

The shadow basically balked at the idea that even this one wasn’t more than enough from the older hunter, and his fingers shook almost too hard as his sister slipped off of her own armrest and came to sit on his looking down in equal amounts of wonder at the photo of their Alpha smiling back up at them. He flipped gently and reverently to the next page, and was almost shocked to see what must have been a professionally taken photograph of the woman and then a third photo as well which was a closer, blurry Polaroid all of its own of the woman’s smiling face almost whited out by the sun behind her. It was something he never thought he’d see, and hadn’t expected to react to given it wasn’t really her face and body, but it was. In the same way the man he was presenting to the world was him, that was his Alpha - Eleanor - and he’d gotten to see and have photos of her now; the first of their kind to take a human form and thrive in it.

“Thank you Bobby.” Jo’s voice cut over the quiet reviews happening around the room of both photo albums, her throat a little tighter still than it usually would be, and Grey couldn’t help but continue to rub at her back soothingly. “Just went and fuckin’ blew us all away, why don’tcha?” The blonde added teasingly, her nose slightly stuffy giving it a nasal sound as she sniffed quietly from what Grey knew would absolutely be unshed tears until everyone left later that night.

“When you get to my age, missy, you’ll be able to do the same thing.” The hunter replied, lifting his drink to his lips as his eyes moved across each little group as the Winchester’s both looked towards him adoringly in return, and Jo’s own face was flushed and smiling gently at him. Grey was surprised to find that the hunter’s eyes moved to his sister for a moment before meeting his dead on for a long moment as Bobby added, echoing the very though running through Grey’s own mind. “And you’ll be thankful to be able to do so, and to get to spend the holidays with your family after it all.”

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