#‘the precious moments that we shared. you slowed time down inside my head’

[salty-an-disco]

Hello. Clarity by Vance Joy Contrahero. Send tweet

ASTERION, how are you so good at finding Contrahero songs????

^ this is me listening to that song and thinkin’ of the blorbos

[starlostseungmin]

husband!minho

✰ notes: third entry of my husband!skz series and as for who won the poll, it’s minho’s turn!! minor warning: sex is mentioned but nothing happened!! i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan（ lee know ） jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Minho who asked, “Will you be the mother of my three kids?” instead of “Will you marry me?” on one random afternoon when you were both playing with his cats at his parents’ house. It served as his proposal and gave you a jingle ball because he didn’t have a ring with him at that time. 

Husband Minho who used to be a tsundere and nonchalant person but later changed into a fully affectionate bunny the moment he fell for you. 

Husband Minho who got emotional during the wedding day but tried to hold his tears back since it was expected that his friends would tease him later. He gave up eventually and cried when you slow danced with him at the reception. 

Husband Minho who teased you a lot but in a loving way. He tends to be a menace sometimes but it wasn’t bad. Your big baby just loves to play with you. 

Husband Minho who pretends to be annoyed when you ask for a kiss but deep inside he wants to smother you with all the love you deserve. Eventually, he couldn’t keep it to himself so he cuddles you with lots and lots of kisses. 

Husband Minho who spoils you with his five Michelin-star cooking skills and serves you high-quality food. He is the happiest when you compliment him and finish everything on your plate. 

Husband Minho who loves to drag you along when he goes camping and offers to take care of everything while you rest. He’d only ask for minor tasks from you to help him. 

Husband Minho who sends you weird selfies and cat pictures when you’re not together and says he misses you with the kids (his cats). 

Husband Minho who listens to your worries and gives constructive criticisms but at the same time he comforts you with the things you need to feel better. 

Husband Minho who loves to encourage you to do the things you want as long as it would benefit him and it’s not illegal. “The heart knows what it wants,” He said. “But let’s not go to jail shall we?”

Husband Minho who lets you burst out in anger while he stood there listening to everything. He’s not the type to baby you every time and will be civil when it comes to arguments knowing who is in the right and wrong. 

Husband Minho who will never allow you to sleep unless everything is resolved. He’d be sorry if it was his fault and be the cutest baby bunny that you can’t resist to forgive. This comes along with cuddles and kisses or makeup sex (if you’re both into it). 

Husband Minho whose love languages are acts of service, quality time, and words of affirmation. 

Husband Minho whom you swoon to over and over because of how handsome and cute he is. Never a day you’d miss complimenting him by which he’ll be all red and mushy from being shy. 

Husband Minho who got the interest of touching your butt out of his love and affection. 

Husband Minho who lays on top of you when he sees you lying down on your shared bed the moment he gets home because he’s tired and your presence makes him feel relaxed and secure.  He tends to bury his face in the crook of your neck. 

Husband Minho who is loud and dramatic in the most precious way. 

Husband Minho who never forgets important dates and will throw everything away just to spend time with you. 

Husband Minho who acts like a mother especially when you get sick and is stubborn. 

Husband Minho who is good with kids, and had asked you a few times if you want to have one with him but at the same time he doesn’t want to put pressure on your shoulders. He reassures that he can wait and doesn’t even mind if he spends his lifetime with you alone. 

Husband Minho who feels appreciated and loved when you tell him about the things he means to you and how much you are head over heels for him. 

Husband Minho who gets excited when you give him cat necessities. You wonder that he loves his cats more than you sometimes but he’d say you were equally receiving his love and affection. 

Husband Minho who doesn’t always say he loves you but rather says that you are his getaway from everything. It’s you and him against the world, nothing could replace you as you are his happy place and favorite person. The one who comes second after his cats and knows his priorities but you get the privilege. 

Husband Minho who loves you to the moon and back. 

Husband Minho who treasures you the most and the one he’d put first before everything. 

Husband Minho whom you’ll love for a lifetime, promised to never hurt, never leave, and never break his heart. 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[daryltwdixon]

Home for Christmas

Daryl x Reader fluff

Celebrating 500 followers

Thank you so much for supporting my work and taking the time to read what I create!!! Writing has been a passion of mine for years, but it’s something I hadn’t picked up again until recently—after nearly a decade away from it. To know that people not only read my stories but enjoy them means the absolute world to me.

This blog and the friends I've made has reminded me of how much I love creating these little worlds, and it’s all thanks to your kind words, encouragement, and enthusiasm. You’ve reignited a part of me I didn’t realize I missed so much.

Here’s to more stories, more inspiration, and the love of Daryl Dixon we all share. I’m so grateful for every single one of you. ❤️

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for making this such a special experience.

The fire crackles softly, filling the room with a warm glow that flickers across the walls, casting long, lazy shadows over the worn furniture and the threadbare rug underneath you. Outside, the cold wind whistles against the windows, causing them to rattle every so often. But here, inside the warmth of the house, it’s quiet, calm. The world beyond these walls feels distant, dulled by the flicker of flames and the steady rhythm of your breaths.

You’re nestled in Daryl’s lap, his back propped against the base of the couch. His arms are a comforting weight around you, holding you close. With your legs folded across his, you lean into him, your head tucked beneath his chin. His hands drift absently through your hair, his calloused fingers catching gently on the strands before smoothing them out again. The motion is slow, unthinking, and so tender and sweet.

Every so often, he leans forward, his lips brushing against your temple, then your cheek, and once—soft and lingering—against your nose. Each kiss feels deliberate, like he’s committing every line of you to memory.

The smell of pine lingers faintly in the room, mingling with the smoky tang of the fire. There's a small Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with scavenged ribbons and mismatched ornaments. It glows softly with the faint light of a string of battery-powered bulbs. It’s lopsided, leaning slightly to one side, but it’s yours. And something Daryl had done just for you.

“Yer warm,” he murmurs just now, the words barely audible, his arms tightening ever so slightly around your body.

You hum in response, shifting slightly to settle deeper into him. The sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his arms around you is enough to make you feel weightless. Somewhere down the street, the faint noise of Deanna’s Christmas party drifts through the stillness, laughter and music carried by the cold wind. But it feels a world away.

“They still going at it, you think?” you ask softly. Your voice is low, teasing, your cheek pressing against his chest.

“Prolly,” he mutters, his lips brushing against the crown of your head. “Ain’t missin’ nothin’, though.”

“I hope Carol at least saves us some cookies,” you say playfully, “Unless they’ve already devoured everything.”

“She prolly stashed some somewhere. Knows they’ll tear through ‘em.” He huffs a soft laugh, the sound more like a quiet rumble in his chest. “I ain’t worried.”

You smile to yourself, savoring this— just the moment. There’s something about the warmth of his voice, the way his hands stay so steady and gentle even though his whole world has been rough edges. His hands continue their stroking of your locks, and it feels like something precious, something you don’t want to let go of.

After a beat of silence, you shift slightly in his lap, angling your head to glance up at him. “Hey,” you murmur, a mischievous smile curling at the edges of your lips. “I’ve got something for you.”

Daryl tilts his head, his brow furrowing as he looks down at you. “What?”

“A Christmas gift,” you say, pulling a small, clumsily wrapped bundle from the pocket of your sweater. “Surprise.”

He frowns, his eyes darting to the package and then back to you. “Don’t need nothin’.”

“Well, too bad,” you say lightly, placing it in his hands. “You’re getting it anyway.”

He exhales sharply, but the way his fingers curl carefully around the gift betrays his curiosity. He peels back the paper slowly, methodical as always, and when he finally reveals the knife nestled inside, his breath catches. It’s one you made, though not entirely on your own—Rosita's talent for knowing how to disassemble an old, ugly knife and reassemble it onto a new handle had been invaluable.

But the handle itself, that was yours. Weeks of carving, sanding, and perfecting the grip until it fit in your hand like it belonged there. You’d smoothed out the wood until it was free of every imperfection, careful and precise as you could be. The laminate had been the hardest part to find—an essential finish to make it usable without risking splinters. Now, dark and polished, the handle feels solid, complete.

A single word is carved into the side: Always. The letters are uneven, the depth of each line a little shaky. You’d whispered that word to one another in quieter moments, a promise exchanged in place of three others meant only for the two of you.

Daryl stares at it for a long moment, his thumb brushing over the word. “You did this?” he asks quietly, his voice thick in a way that makes your chest tighten.

“Yeah,” you say, suddenly shy. “Figured it might… y’know, come in handy.”

His lips twitch, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through the seriousness on his face. “S’perfect.”

“Even though the ‘A’ is a little lopsided?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“That part’s perfect too,” he mutters, his fingers tightening around the handle. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and there’s something soft and unguarded in his eyes. “Thank you. It… it means a lot’. Even with yer messy writin,”

You swallow the lump in your throat, smiling and leaning into him. “Good. ‘Cause you mean a lot."

He lets out a breath, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. “Love ya, hunny,” he mumbles, before pressing his lips against yours in a tenderness that leaves your heart aching.

You hum in response against him, leaning close and gripping his shirt in your hands. When he pulls away, his lips press into a thin line, his brow furrowing. “I, uh…” He shifts slightly, reaching behind him and pulling a small bundle out of the pocket of his jacket. “Found these for ya. Thought ‘bout just givin’ ya coal, but…” He chuckles, his eyes flicking to yours. “Figured this’d solve the problem instead.”

You take the bundle from him, unwrapping it carefully, and laugh softly when you see the thick, fleece lined leather gloves inside. They’re soft and warm, clearly picked with care.

“Fer when yer freezin’ yer damn hands off,” he says gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And stickin’ ‘em under my shirt.”

You laugh, slipping one of the gloves on and wiggling your fingers. “They’re perfect. Way better than coal.”

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe now you’ll stop tryna freeze me t’death and I won’t have to consider it fer next year,”

“Maybe,” you tease, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “But I sure do love the face you make when I do it.”

He huffs, though his ears tint pink, and his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. The fire crackles on, the warmth wrapping around you like a blanket, but it’s his lips, soft and lingering against your temple, that make you feel truly safe. He pauses for a moment, then presses another kiss to the crown of your head, his hands smoothing over your back.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The fire pops softly in the hearth, its light still casting everything into golden light. His thumb brushes absentmindedly along your back, and you find yourself marveling at how something so simple, so quiet, can feel like the most profound thing in the world.

You shift again, your hand rubbing along his sweater clad forearm as you tilt your head to look up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

His hand slides up to cup your jaw, fingers gentle as his eyes search your face with a gentleness only found in these sorts of moments. In the quiet, with just the two of you.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his mouth to yours, and for the first time in a long, long time, everything feels right.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Feelings

Valkyrie x fem!reader

Word count: 886

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Aphrodisiac Usage, Power Dynamics (Dom/sub Elements), Rough Sex, Begging & Praise Kink, Possessive, Drinking/Alcohol Consumption, Mild Jealousy, Strap on, Edging (Implied), Overstimulation

Authors notes: King Valkyrie using you on an aphrodisiac has my head spinning

The night starts with a lively celebration at New Asgard, where you and Valkyrie have been sharing drinks and laughter. As the newly appointed King, Valkyrie seems more radiant than ever, and the attention she’s been receiving from others is making you a tad jealous. So when someone brings out a mysterious, potent elixir said to be an Asgardian "liquid courage," you decide to take a sip, hoping to loosen up and keep up with the Asgardian revelry.

What you don’t know is that the drink is actually an ancient Asgardian aphrodisiac, made to intensify one’s emotions and desires. Valkyrie notices the change in you immediately—the way your gaze lingers on her, the slight flush on your cheeks, and the boldness that seems to take over as you lean closer. She finds it amusing at first but soon realizes the elixir has truly taken effect when you can’t keep your hands off her.

Amused and intrigued, Valkyrie decides to tease you a little, guiding you somewhere private, letting you take the lead while she watches the effect the aphrodisiac has on you. She takes her time, allowing you to explore this newfound boldness under her careful gaze.

“I didn’t think you could look any more beautiful, but here we are,” she murmurs, her lips trailing over your cheek as she revels in the unexpected, heated evening together.

Once you’re alone, Valkyrie leans against the wall, arms folded, watching with a smirk as you fight the flush spreading across your skin. The aphrodisiac’s effects intensify, making you feel hot under her piercing gaze, like you’re the only thing she wants in the world right now.

“Val,” you manage, your voice a little breathless. Your hands reach out, fingers trembling as you tug her closer. Her smirk softens into something darker, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Thought you could keep up with an Asgardian, hmm?” she teases, pressing her forehead to yours, her breath ghosting over your lips. Her hands find your waist, firm and grounding, as she dips her head, lips barely brushing yours. She knows the effect she has on you, how the elixir only amplifies the pull you already feel toward her. She’s in no hurry, savoring every moment, every touch, as if you’re something precious and fragile.

Her lips finally press against yours, slow and deliberate, a kiss that feels like a promise. You melt into it, gripping her tighter, craving every bit of contact. Valkyrie lets you take control for a moment, reveling in the intensity with which you kiss her back. But soon, she deepens it, her lips pressing harder, claiming you as she tilts your chin up, making you feel small and treasured in her grasp.

Her voice is a low murmur against your lips, each word sending shivers down your spine. “Let me show you how we celebrate in New Asgard. It’s about giving in—trusting that I’ll take care of you.”

She lifts you effortlessly, guiding you to the bed nearby. Her hands roam over you with reverence, her touch grounding but electric, each caress making you feel cherished. As she holds you, you feel your nerves fading, replaced by the steady confidence that comes from being wrapped in her strength and devotion.

You can feel her everywhere. You feel yourself clenching around nothing and you absolutely need her inside of you. You’re dripping onto your thighs and a whine escapes your lips. 

“Please my King. Need you inside of me. Need to feel you fill me.” You beg with a whimper, hearing just how pathetic you sound. Val smirks at your need, taking your clothes off and then her own. Of course she was wearing her strap already. She almost always had it on if you were nearby. 

She teases you only a bit before letting herself slowly sink inside. A moan being pulled out from deep inside. As she bottoms out with a moan she looks at you. Staying still and waits for another whimper to leave your lips as your hips move on their own. You need this. Need her. You need more.

“Please fuck me rough my King. I need it rough and fast. Need you to show me my place.” You beg her and thats when she grabs your hips and pistons into you. You grip onto the sheets beneath you. Your brain being so fuzzy with need you don’;t even form anything close to a coherent scenance. Only little pleas and my King are heard as you fall over the edge, but she doesn’t stop as she continues to fuck you through your orgasm with a satisfied, sadistic smirk. 

“You said you could keep up with Asgaurdians so I’m going to use this tight, needy cunt of yours all night and you’re going to take it like the good girl I know you are.” Her voice is deep and full of lust. You can only manage a nod.

For the rest of the night, Valkyrie takes her time, savoring every second as the aphrodisiac brings out a side of you she’s never seen before. And, by the time dawn breaks over New Asgard, the taste of the elixir has faded, leaving only the lingering warmth of her embrace and the promise of more nights like this one, more moments where you’re all hers.

[kithnkiss]

general kink headcannons for paul, gene, ace and eric. especially ace and gene.

➜ general kinks (headcannons)

warnings. kinks baaaaaby, smut (duh), f!reader

notes. thank you anon! i decided to do three as the max, and a small bonus kink. if anyone (or you, my beloved anon) wants more of these kink headcannons, leave another ask :)

PAUL STANLEY

Dirty Talk: It's no surprise that Paul, known for his well-spoken nature, begins showering you with explicit compliments and weaving steamy fantasies during dirty talk. There is not a time while you’re having sex that Paul does not talk dirty, whether you’re goin’ hard or slow, he can’t help but put into words what he’s thinking and feeling.

“Fuck baby, your pussy feels so good wrapped around me.”

“Keep staring at me like that hun, makes me wanna bend you over this table.”

Exhibitionism: Now this goes both ways. He loves watching you, and loves you watching him. When Paul is in the mood to watch, his favorite treat is a seductive striptease. As he watches you undress, maybe even adding a little dance to the mix, this man is completely captivated and you have him wrapped right around your finger. On the days when he’s being watched (which mostly happens because he wants to punish or tease you), he indulges in pleasuring himself. His hands roam over his chest, fingers teasing his nipples, all building up to the moment when he starts touching his cock. (Bro is such a whore, but we love him)

“Go slower baby, take your time.”

“Fuck, look how hard you make me. You regrettin’ all the back talk from earlier? Maybe if you say you’re sorry, you can have a taste.”

Mirror Play: He definitely has a mirror on his ceiling. I guess this kind of plays into the exhibition kink as well because he really just loves watching. While he enjoys being watched or watching you, the idea of watching you both together? Absolutely. Yes, ma’am. His preferred method of using a mirror is having a full-length one next to the bed, positioning you on the bed to sit in front of him. Sharing the experience of him exploring your body together is an incredibly intimate moment for him. This act is just one of the many ways he loves expressing his love for you. Having you, his favorite girl, fully engrossed in him and being able to fully engage with you physically is all he needs to feel content and fulfilled.

“Keep watching, love. See how are bodies were made for each other?”

“Shit, look at you. So precious and so fucking sexy. Think you can come for me? Just like this?”

Bonus Kink: Daddddyyy

ERIC CARR

Oral Sex: While he could never say no to seeing you on your knees, he definitely prefers giving. His style of giving head varies. He has you either begging him to move faster or pleading for him to slow down (sometimes it depends on his mood, what you want, and if you’re being good or not). His favorite way though? Messy. Slurping, spitting, licking every crevice, biting, sucking your clit and lips, pushing his tongue as far as it can go inside of you. He doesn't care what noises his mouth is making or how loud he is; he is too hypnotized by your taste and reactions to care. Also, just a little side note, that if you ever give this man a chance, he will eat you out for hours.

“You taste so good on my tongue. Can’t wait to make you come on it and taste you even more”

Anal Play: Just like your pussy, he loves eating your ass out too (honestly, there’s not a place on you he won’t touch with his tongue). Now hold up and pump the brakes babe, cuz’ I’m not finished. You licked his asshole once on accident (because you were actually just trying to lick his balls) and he came so fast and so hard that it shocked both of you. Now it’s a given that every time you suck him off, you’re also eating his ass. Yeah, you two were practically meant for each other at this point.

“Got such a sweet pussy and ass, and it’s all for me. Ain’t that right baby?”

“Oh christ, keep using your tongue on me like that and m’ gonna fuckin’ come.”

Discipline: Respect is such a huge thing for him, and while he recognizes that everyone makes mistakes and says things they don't mean, he will correct you if you overstep a boundary. Truth be told, if you ever do manage to provoke him, it's most likely intentional on your part, so really this is just all play for both of you. And it’s something you enjoy immensely, because there is nothing hotter than your hot drummer bending you over any available surface to give you good ol’ fashion spanking.

“Keep pushin’ it babygirl. I have no problem lifting that cute little skirt and smacking your ass.”

Bonus Kink: breeding kink

ACE FREHLEY

Spanking: Now before we get to the actual ✨sexy part✨, just know that this is also could be his affectionate (and playful) side coming through. You’re talking to someone? Lightly plays your cheeks like they’re drums to pass the time. He’s talking to someone? Pats you on the bum every once and awhile. He wants your attention for a moment? Gives you a little tap on the ass. This is his soft and loving side. On the other side, he’s one of two things: encouraging or upset. You’re riding him? he'll give your rear a solid smack and compliments you on how good you’re making him feel. You’re mouthing off? Get ready to count each spank.

“You’re doin’ so good for me sweetie. Fuck, just like that.”

“For every sentence you used to piss me off, you get a smack. And you bet your ass you’re counting each one of em’.”

Choking: You were the one who initiated this, and by initiation, I mean you guided his hand to encircle your neck, and he completely fell in love with it. Most nights, his hand is usually just placed there, not really squeezing. The nights he’s a little rougher (or you’ve made him), he squeezes. And yes, the intensity of his grip correlates with his level of frustration. Are you getting on his nerves? He applies a bit of pressure as a warning. Have you truly angered him? He gradually restricts your air supply until you're in tears, pleading for forgiveness. (P.S.A: RINGS ON HIS FINGERS. That’s all.)

“Goddamn you look good with my hand wrapped around your pretty neck baby.”

Sex Toys: He has a fondness for all things related to toys, but particularly enjoys using them in public. Vibrating panties and small bullets are his preferred choices, relishing in the thrill of making you squirm in front of others and teasing you to the brink with a simple remote control in his hand. However, behind closed doors, he indulges in a wide array of toys - from dildos and wands, to nipple clamps and paddles/floggers. Typically, he's the one using the toys on you, but one day, you arrived home with a cock ring as a surprise. He’s never come so hard in his life and ever since that day, he occasionally yearns for you to use toys on him too.

“You’re lookin’ a little red, honey. You gonna come for me in fronna’ all these people?”

“Fuckin’ hell, I can’t hold it much longer. Please don’t stop.”

Bonus Kink: Exhibitionism (but nothing like Paul’s taste).

GENE SIMMONS

Humiliation: For light play, this involves lighthearted teasing, playful name-calling, or light-hearted embarrassment. Typically, this is a side he reserves exclusively for you, reluctant to reveal his more gentle side to others. On the other hand, in more intense scenarios, he can be cruel, resorting to using every degrading term in the book and pushing you to the point of tears through intense humiliation. And he will tear you down in public (consensually).

“Look at you, trying to act tough. Makes me wanna pinch your cheeks, sweet thing.”

“Maybe if you weren’t acting like a whore, I wouldn’t be making you do this in front of the guys, but you’ve left me no choice. Now crawl.”

Begging: Watching you cry and hearing your sobs and pleas for him sparks a rush of exhilaration and arousal within him. Initially, when you first cried, he was genuinely freakingthefuckout. However, once you reassured him that your tears were a result of the pleasure he was bringing you, he felt invincible.

“Shit, you look pretty when you cry baby.”

Somnophilia: He rarely arrives home before sundown, and by the time he does, you have already been asleep for a few hours. So, when you mentioned that you fantasized about him using you while you slept, the idea never left his mind. The first time, he was hesitant and on the verge of backing out, but then he recalled the words of reassurance you had given him. The irresistible idea of waking you with gentle caresses with his tongue proved too tempting, and he finally gave in to his desires. After that night of success, he got more confident and addicted.

“My beautiful girl, can’t wait for you to wake up.”

Bonus Kink: Slapping

©️ kithnkiss Rights Reserved

[zafirosreverie]

Change the future part 3

part 1

a/n: Still on hiatus, just wanted to post something on the triplets' birthday

a/n2: I don’t even know what ship is this about anymore

__________________________

"At some point you're going to have to talk to her about this"

"But that won’t be today, Pepa"

Julieta said as she continued to cook, deliberately ignoring the way her pulse raced and her nerves stood on edge. She didn't even need to turn around to know that her sister was rolling her eyes as she leaned against the door frame. She knew the redhead was right, but she didn't have the will or the courage to face this thing she had been running from for weeks and only one thought lived rent free in her mind. 

Y/N’s back.

Her head was spinning just remembering the moment she saw you again. You were thinner, you had more gray hair, and a couple of new wrinkles around your eyes, but you were still her Y/N, warm, simple, and unbelievably beautiful.

She didn't like to admit that she probably would have thrown herself into your arms without thinking if it weren't for Isabela, who had been faster than her. Things hadn’t been easy for her and her two remaining daughters, so the moment they saw you appear over the hill, the three of them had run out of the house not caring that the rest of the family looked at them in confusion.

Isabela didn't even bother to slow her run before she crashed into the open arms you offered her and your joyous laughter made her stomach feel weird, as if thousands of butterflies woke up inside her. You had shared many things in your letters during all those years, and for that time, Julieta allowed herself to think that it was enough, but the universe showed her how wrong she was when, having you in front of her once more, her heart seemed to cry happy tears, as if a piece of her had finally come back to complete her puzzle.

She didn't have time to think about it though, not when her precious Mirabel, now so big and beautiful, lunged at her, hiding her face in her neck, crying and telling her how much she had missed her. It took her brain a moment to recognize that the young woman in her arms was, in fact, her youngest daughter, her baby, but once that settled in her mind, it was like all the weight of the world was finally lifted from her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, mija" she whispered, not even bothering to stop the tears that ran down her cheeks.

Mirabel had smiled waterily at her, whispering a soft thank you and saying again how much she had missed her. The girl dulled in her mother’s scent for a while, just trying to find the comfort she needed when she left so many years ago, and sighed happily before gasping and pulling away from her to run to the person behind her.

"Tía Pepa!!"

The brunette barely had a few seconds to laugh at the way her daughter was scooped up by the redhead before she herself was tackled by two familiarly strange and warm bodies.

"Tía Juli, look! I'm almost as tall as you!"

"Tía, tía, tía, I already know how to cook! And look! I cut my hair!"

"We brought you presents!"

"But mine are better because I love you more"

"Not true! I love her more!"

"No, I love her more!"

Julieta only managed to laugh softly while Joaquín and María clung to each of her arms and fought for her attention; they had five years of conversations to catch up with her after all. It really felt like time hadn't passed, even though your children were no longer the little babies she saw leaving that night. And then there was you.

You, who had smiled at her with complicity from your own tangle of hugs with Luisa and Isabela, you, who had been her rock, her pillar, and her cane even when you were so far away. You, who were stirring her entire being with your mere presence. You, who had approached her, hugged her when your children still held her arms hostage. You, who had whispered in her ear that little confession that haunted her dreams.

"I was dying to see you again, Eta...I missed you so much"

At that time, she had simply wriggled out of your children's grasp and returned the gesture, trying not to get lost on your warmth (even if she really wanted to cry), having you there was a huge relief, and all the stress and anxiety that had been eating at her insides for years was finally beginning to dissipate, her usually tormented mind was quickly being filled with a single thought: you were here.

"I missed you too" she managed to say, looking into your eyes with a small smile

"Yes, yes, will you get out of here please? There are people who also want to greet Y/N”

Julieta blinked a bit as her sister pulled her away from you and she didn't miss the way you looked at her half amused and half confused before returning Pepa's tight hug. She couldn't blame you, her sister had never been as close to you as she was, but she supposed that after everything that had happened since you left, the redhead's conception of you had changed. Well, at least you knew you had both of your sisters-in-law on your side.

“It's good to see you again, Pepa” you said as you separated “You haven't aged a bit…you don't even have gray hair! I need to know your secret"

"Oh, Y/N" she laughed "it's good to have you back"

"Her secret is to annoy me so that I’m the one getting gray hair and not her'' Julieta joked, crossing her arms.

You looked between the sisters while Pepa rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at the brunette, a gesture that the older triplet returned. Your mind struggled to catch up on it all, because you really couldn't remember the last time you'd seen them tease each other so openly, it was pretty cute.

The rest of the meeting was pretty adorable too. Joaquín and María used Félix as a climbing pole, while the man just laughed, Luisa and Isabela told you as much as they could, asking you questions while you tried to pay attention to both of them. Julieta thought that her daughter would ask about Agustín, or that she would be upset with her for their divorce, but Mirabel was quick to give her a hug and assure her that she didn't blame her or cared about him.

The brunette didn't have to wonder much where her youngest daughter was learning to handle the situation, because at that moment you intervened, gently squeezing the girl's shoulder.

"He couldn't bear to lose a daughter so he abandoned the other two? Math ain mathin" you said.

Julieta had just smiled gratefully at you as you winked at her, and for a moment everything felt good, like things were really starting to go back to normal, the way they should be. And then…then you saw Bruno. 

The moment your eyes locked on the man hiding behind his mother would never leave her mind. Your eyes, which had been filled with warmth and kindness to everyone, turned cold and filled with a deep sadness that you desperately tried to disguise as disgust. And yet, she couldn't even pretend that she felt bad for her brother.

"Y/N" the man greeted awkwardly, forcing a guilty smile "...you look good."

"Bruno" you answered dryly

The air was charged with an intense tension that everyone could feel in their bones, as if it could be cut with a knife, or as if one wrong move could shatter such a surreal scene into a thousand pieces.

"It's good to see you again"

"I wish I could say the same"

Julieta felt in her own chest the dagger that you were burying on Bruno, who at least had the decency to look at the ground with remorse, but she knew you better.

It wasn't that you wanted to be cruel to the man you had loved more than life, but precisely that love you had for him had hurt you too much, it had destroyed you and it had hurt your children too. You were only trying to protect the hearts you had worked so hard to repair.

"What are you doing here?" Alma asked, looking at you with hate

"I came to see my family" you answered with the most neutral voice you could, but your hands were shaking

"This is no longer your family"

"Mom-" the older triplet tried to intervene.

"You shut up!" The older woman yelled, making everyone jump "Wasn't it enough for you to help this damn woman break the family?! Now you welcome her back with open arms?! After she stole my grandchildren?! Your own daughter?!"

"I didn't steal anyone! They are my children" you defended yourself.

You really didn't want to cause a scene, especially with all the children present, and because more than once you had to comfort Mirabel after waking up to the recurring nightmare involving her grandmother yelling at her. But that woman drove you mad with extreme ease.

"They would have been better here!" Alma replied "Away from your wicked hands. They belonged here, they wanted to stay here!"

"That's not true! My children wanted to go with me!"

"You had no right! They are Bruno's children!"

"He abandoned them!" Julieta yelled, making everyone look at her.

She could feel her heart racing, blood pooling in her cheeks, and a single look at her brother told her that she had finished erasing the faint ghost of what had once been her relationship with him, but she didn't care.

She couldn't care, not when she could see out of the corner of her eye how Mirabel was hiding behind you, how Isabela tried her best to appear calm but her hands moved as if she could still command an army of plants to defend her sisters.

Not when she could see Pepa and Felix trying to create a weak barrier with their bodies between their children and Alma, when Dolores hugged Camilo as if he was a little child in the hope that no one would hurt her brother again.

And especially not when she could feel your own fear, sadness, and despair as Joaquín and María clung to her own sides, suddenly terrified of who had once been a loving grandmother to them. Everything was wrong, everything was damaged beyond repair, there was nothing left for her to break, but she still had a family, a broken one, but a family nonetheless and she had to protect them, no matter from whom.

"How dare you talk about your brother like that?" Alma whispered dangerously "how dare you when you allowed your daughter to be kidnapped?!" that seemed to wake you up.

"Bruno left without saying anything, without caring about us, Julieta just protected us, all of us" you said, placing a hand on your sister-in-law's shoulder.

You didn't know if it was a bad choice of words or action, perhaps both, but you could see the moment when your mother-in-law's eyes flashed with an intense fire fueled by hatred and resentment. You barely managed to see her hand in the air and by intuition you closed your eyes, waiting for the blow.

"Don't you ever dare-"

 But it never came.

"IT'S ENOUGH!" 

You opened your eyes to see Julieta holding Alma's hand firmly, preventing it from getting to you. Julieta, the golden daughter of the Madrigal family, the sweetest and most loving woman you'd ever meet, defying the woman who once commanded respect with her mere presence. Although, was it really respect? Or was it fear? You thought that, deep down, it was the latter.

It really was a surreal scene, as if everything was frozen around you. But a voice in the back of your mind told you that it shouldn't surprise you so much, after all, this was also the woman who had made one of the most difficult decisions of her life in order to protect her daughter, the one who had broken blood ties in order to keep the rest of her family safe, the one who, no matter how much it hurt her to be separated from her brother and mother, still got up every day for the others’ sake.

No, it definitely shouldn't surprise you that if anyone had the strength to face Alma and everything that entailed, it was precisely the one who was once the brightest star in the family constellation.

Julieta Madrigal was many things, beautiful, brave, strong, maternal, affectionate and loyal, but she also hid a wolf inside her, one that was already fed up with seeing how her pack was threatened. She was ready to get the fangs out, and you were beginning to see why the rest had trusted her to be the head of the family.

"You insolent-"

"I SAID THAT’S ENOUGH!" the brunette growled, still holding her mother's hand "I've been patient with you, mother, but not anymore."

You could hear a couple of gasps behind you, and you weren't too surprised when Pepa approached you like a scared little girl while Mirabel hugged her. If you didn't know that the miracle was gone, you would think that the icy wind that enveloped you was your sister-in-law’s fault.

"Let go, Julieta-"

"I'm not going to let you talk like that to Y/N" she replied, you could see that she was squeezing the older woman's hand tightly, and from Alma's expression, it was obvious that it hurt, but it seemed like no one could move as you witnessed "the next time you raise your hand to her, me, or anyone in this family, it will be the last time you have a family"

That was a sentence that you yourself could feel in your bones. There was absolutely no trace of compassion or kindness in the older triplet's voice, nor did it leave any doubt that she would keep her word. It was a perfect ultimatum, one that even Alma seemed to understand, because she didn't utter a word as her daughter released her and walked back to the house.

The rest of you looked at each other for a few seconds before Pepa, with Mirabel still in her arms, went after her sister, causing the rest to follow her, including your children, who passed by Bruno without even looking at him, and ran to reach the hands of their favorite aunt. Your mother-in-law just muttered something about going with the Guzmáns and she walked away, disappearing into the night.

Only you and Bruno were left, both looking at each other with surprise, doubt and a little fear. Your eyes seemed to ask a thousand questions but neither of you understood what they were. In the end, you simply sighed and lightly hugged the man who, you must have reminded yourself, was still your husband.

"This wasn't how I expected tonight to go" you confessed lightly.

"It was something that was destined to happen" he whispered "if this didn't explode before it was only because Juli always had the patience of a saint... but I guess everything has a limit"

"I'm so sorry" you said to yourself, guilt beginning to rise in you "if I hadn't-"

"Don't, it wasn't because of you" he smiled a little "...things have been tense between them since before I even met you."

"Really?" you frowned "but...it seemed like she was the favorite daughter"

"She was the closest to the perfect doll mom had in mind" he corrected you "And it only got worse when we turned 5"

"When you got the gifts?"

"Yes" he sighed and looked at his hands "Pepa and I suffered a lot for our gifts, but we always knew that Julieta had it worse"

"Why?"

"Because she's the one who looks the most like dad" he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world "If she hadn't been born a woman, I assure you, she would be his living portrait"

You thought about it for a moment. You had seen Pedro Madrigal's portrait many times, and although you had never paid much attention to physical details, you had always believed that he radiated a warmth that you only knew from his eldest daughter. It made sense that Alma would have seen the ghost of her late husband in her, and at that moment, something clicked on you.

"And Julieta's gift allowed her to help the community like no one else could" you looked him in the eye "Despite the exhaustion and fatigue, she was always ready to help others... like your father"

"That's right" he agreed.

"But...her gift made her absorb others’ pain" you continued, with the pieces falling into place in your mind quickly "she was in constant suffering...Alma made her reenact Pedro's sacrifice every day"

"And Pepa and I couldn't do anything"

You looked at Bruno for a moment. Despite being the youngest, he looked terribly tired, his eyes swam in deep sadness, his hands trembled and he looked incredibly fragile. Your heart forgot all about anger and disappointment, and was quickly filled with the same affection you had felt for him the first time you met him, a tender and childish love, pure and sincere. He was a brother who felt guilty for not protecting his sister.

"You love her" you said, it wasn't a question.

"As you don't have an idea" he answered anyway "when I came back, it was her arms that I wanted to feel, not mom's" he admitted "but she was furious with me, and with good reason. I shouldn't have left, I shouldn't have left you or the children, I shouldn't have allowed mom to treat Mirabel like that...I should have done things differently...but that doesn't matter now"

You looked at him sympathetically and put a hand on his shoulder so that he looked at you. He seemed so lost, like a kid who has broken something and didn't know how to apologize to mom. Yes, there were too many things that maybe he could have done differently, you too. But that no longer mattered, time was not going to come back and all you could do was start walking towards the best option you had now, and you both knew that that option had a name.

"Have you tried talking to her?" you asked softly

"Mom is always by my side" he said "And I n-never have the courage to talk to her when we're alone, I…I just don't want her to hate me more"

"She doesn't hate you" you said immediately "she could never hate you... you're her baby brother, and we both know that deep down, there will always be a place in her heart for you, no matter how hard Alma tries to keep you from getting back on good terms with her."

"I feel like I've failed her too much" he murmured, looking at the ground "It doesn't matter what I do anymore, our relationship is broken beyond repair...B-but I love her, that's why I try to keep mom busy with me and leave the rest of us alone. I love her and Pepa, and-and I love our family, my nephews, my nieces, my children...and you"

Your cheeks warmed at the last words, and by the way his eyes looked everywhere but at you, you knew he hadn't expected that confession to slip out of him either, at least not at the moment. You smiled and hugged him again, trying not to let the discomfort touch you.

"Talk to her, Bruno" you said "I'm sure you can fix things...so can we" you smiled

He looked at you hopefully and slowly smiled back, walking silently beside you as you went back to the house. You both knew this wasn't a mend, that there was still too much going on between you, but at least you were headed in the right direction. After all, you'd already fallen in love with him once, who said it couldn't happen twice?

______________________

Except that the first time you hadn't had your sister-in-law's face on your mind, nor had you had a little five-year-old nephew rock your entire world with a simple question.

You really couldn't blame the little guy. Antonio was just a child trying to catch up with the changing situation of his family, he was learning to live with some cousins and an aunt he never knew and you knew you had to be patient with his questions.

You had to admit that he was adorable, and despite Pepa's teasing, it was nice to have him behind you all day. Joaquín and María had become his best friends immediately and it was obvious that he was replacing your son as Mirabel's favorite cousin.

Speaking of your children, both of them were making a titanic effort to stay away from their grandmother, but they were spending more and more time with their father, which seemed to be the first steps towards Bruno becoming part of the "good side" of the family again, as the children liked to call it.

Your relationship with him was still in the mending process, but at least you could say you were friends again, which seemed to relieve Pepa, one less battle to fight between her siblings, you guessed.

The problem was Julieta.

She was still your favorite sister-in-law and your best friend, without a doubt, but things were starting to get weird for you when you realized that she was slowly becoming your favorite person too. You seemed unable to stop your smile every time you saw her and your heart raced when you heard her laugh.

It was a terribly familiar and terrifying feeling, because you knew that she shouldn't have that effect on you, that you shouldn't feel with her what you once felt with Bruno. And yet you couldn't stop.

As much as you tried to lie to yourself, it was obvious that you were always trying to be with her, whether it was helping her cook or just chatting with her over coffee, it didn't matter, you just wanted to be close to her. You felt bad for a while, but then you started noticing the way she would blush every time you smiled at her or how she would look at you when she thought you weren't paying attention.

You were both playing a dangerous game, but it somehow felt so…natural, like that was the only logical path for you. You didn't expect that to be confirmed by the miracle itself.

It was one afternoon when, a few days after finishing the reconstruction of Casita, you and Julieta were sitting in the kitchen, just talking, you were telling her about the first dress that Mirabel made when Camilo ran in, his eyes full of emotion and fear in equal measure.

"Tías, you have to come quickly" he told you

"What's going on?" Julieta asked, even as you both were already getting up

"You have to see it for yourself"

You and the brunette looked at each other curiously for a second before hurrying after your older nephew. The rest of the family was already there and you only had to look in the same direction to understand the commotion. The candle was back.

Well, not exactly. The candle itself was there, but it was out. Still, you knew what that could mean for your family, you knew what they could get back if they managed to make it shine again. The question was, how?

"Mom, you have to take it" Mirabel said excitedly

"What?"

"Think about it Juli" Pepa agreed "you're the new head of the family, you should be the one to protect the candle now... right?"

"I… I guess"

Julieta looked at you for a moment, and you could see the doubt and anxiety in her eyes, so you just smiled and nodded, hoping that was enough comfort for her. The brunette returned your smile before approaching the candle. Her hands trembled and you did not doubt that memories of when she received her gift, more than 45 years ago, passed through her mind.

You all held your breath as the older triplet's hands carefully took hold of the candle and a current passed through you. It was soft and warm, just like a tickle. You waited a moment, but nothing else happened. You could see the disappointment in the rest of the family, especially the brunette, but they all faked supportive smiles.

"Maybe we need to call-"

"No Juli, we don't need her"

You were a bit surprised by Pepa's tone, but you could understand. Alma hadn't been back since the night you returned to Encanto, taking refuge with the Guzmans ever since. It hurt a little that this distanced Dolores from Mariano, but no one could deny that everyone breathed more peace since she was gone. It didn't seem strange to you that they refused to call her now.

"It's because tía Y/N isn’t close" Antonio said suddenly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

"Excuse me?" you blinked

"Abuela's candle was lit because Abuelo loved her" the boy explained.

You all looked at him like he was growing another head, but deep down, you all wanted to know the reasoning behind that little head. After all, the little ones always have the most creative solutions.

"What does that have to do with tía Y/N, Antonio?" Mirabel asked softly

"Tía Y/N loves tía Julieta" he said "the candle has to light if she's around her girlfriend, right?"

You didn't even need Dolores' gift to hear a pin drop, not when the room was deathly silent. You looked at Julieta out of the corner of your eye and you could see that her face was redder than a tomato, and you doubted that you were better. Your heart was racing like crazy, your hands were sweating and you could feel the anxiety building up in you.

How could a five-year-old boy understand better than you the forbidden feelings that had been blooming in you for your sister-in-law? Had you been too obvious? Did the others notice it too? God, you didn't even want to look at Bruno.

"Mami! mami!"

María's voice brought you out of your thoughts and you looked at her worriedly. Your daughter just looked at you in amazement and pointed with her little hand to the place where your attention should be. You hadn't even realized that you had approached Julieta, but now you were facing each other, with the candle between you and a small flame sprouting. 

“It can’t be” you heard Isabela whispering while Pepa gasped

The moment you took a step back, the small flame went out. The brunette looked at you for a second before slowly approaching you again, causing the candle to relight. It wasn't a strong, magical glow like the one it had before the whole disaster, but it was a promise that you’d get the miracle back.

Except that neither you nor Julieta wanted to think about what the miracle was asking of you, or what that meant for both of you and your respective families.

[arsonlookers]

[NO]

I look in front of me a blue screen floating in my face I reach out my hand and as I watch my hands go through the screen I reach out to the man I was supposed to marry. in front of me stood the most handsome man, my husband-to-be, the love of my life for eternity.

I smiled sadly feeling his skin against mine, I looked into his molten golden eyes, closing my eyes and slowly closing the space between us, and kissed him one last time as I felt my tears fall one after the other.

' I wanted this to last ' I thought tears slipped in my cheeks

Another minute passed as I moved away from the love of my life "But I know our eternity is just for a moment...my dragon.." I sadly smiled as I grabbed his white wedding coat and sobbed on his shoulder.

I feel guilt, agony, pain, and heartache as if my heart is being torn into a million pieces.

slowly... I slowly let go of his coat and slowly but surely slip down on the ground and cry my heart out.

A pain I can't ever bear and handle anymore, a pain I can't imagine how I can ever move on. "Zhongli... sobs* .. Zhon- My Zhongli sob*" I can't hold my voice anymore as I call his name repeatedly "My be-beloved *sobs* Dragon *sob... Zhongli"

As if waiting for a response, remembering how he always comes to comfort me and never fails to calm me down but I know it will never come. I know he will not comfort me now... and ever... For this will be the last.

"sobs* Zhongli Sobs* " I repeatedly call his name, waiting for a miracle to happen as I sit on the ground helplessly. Hands shaking, tears falling, my heart kept beating painfully wanting to just be ripped apart, my mind blank just kept repeating his name, wanting his warmth, wanting to hear his voice once again, wanting his arms around my body, wanting how I braid his hair, keeps repeating our memories that hold precious years and time together.

Remember how his concerned voice keeps repeating inside my mind, how he laughs, how he once was angry because I nearly died, how I heard him cry my name with a painful tone in it, if others were to listen to his cry they would think he is dying. Remember how warm he always is, never fails to share it with me every night, every cold day, every I need it, every century. He never fails to his promises since that day.

"sobs* sob* "Everything is a blur, except the blue screen.

Looking at it sadly "Just give me another minute ...please.." I begged, I pleaded with the sky above, to give me time, to just give me time to look at him one last time, to at least say one last goodbye.

I unstably, knees shaking and struggling to stand up, I grabbed his white coat for assistance.

Both hands on his shoulders ..... feeling sad again remembering how he used to put both my hands on his shoulders and his hands on my hips for a slow dance.

I put my head on his shoulders and hums the tone he always used every time we danced together, beside the lake, with a beautiful view around us. I remember the special place, the way he gracefully moved and led the dance, how tight his grip on my hips was, how I used to lovingly look at him wishing for things to last... for time to freeze.

I hum until the very end of the song. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly to the point of smelling his hair, how good he always smells around, how it makes me calm, and loves the moment he is close to me.

I hug him for the last time whispering one last goodbye "I love you now and forever my beloved dragon, Morax, Rex lapis, My Zhongli, the love of my life... you will ...FOREVER shine in my memories" I smile and one last tear falls down my cheek.

"Goodbye my love"

clicking the NO on the screen

Slowly everything starts to fade... Zhongli starts to fade out...

until everything is blacked out.

As I opened my eyes I was greeted inside a familiar cold room

"I'm back" I mutter under my breath

Uncontrolled Tears fall down,

Already missing him in my arms, missing his features, missing his warmth...

"sob* zhongli" I uncontrollably keeps banging the floor

"Zhongli.. I'm sorry sob* ..."

That night You spend your whole night crying and repeating his name, remembering your memories together, and hugging yourself to sleep on the cold floor beside the game machine.

Days passed You spent a whole week getting yourself used to the cold room you once called "Home" but you know where your real Home is... and it is never this unbearable cold room.

..It is never in this world... You will never feel at home ever again.

[ ENDING 02 ]

Hmm ~ would you like to know the secret ending?

you look sad:<

a/n: Continuation of IMAGINE

thank you for reading

[bullet-prooflove]

So, for the free for all, how about Bodhi from Tulsa King and the prompt “Are you wearing my shirt?”

Tagging: @kmc1989

The sun is rising, the orange light playing across Bodhi’s bare skin as he wakes up to the sweet and earthy scent of Hindu Kush. The taste blossoms on his tongue, intermingled with your honey from just a few hours ago. That strain is one of the rarest in the world, incredibly hard to get your hands on and now it’s in his home, taunting him.

You’ve been holding out on him, he thinks as he slips out of the sheets, his muscles aching from a night of one of the best tantric sessions he’s had in a long time.

Slow, sensual, intense,  you’d kept each other on edge for hours, staying in tune, keeping that rhythm, until you’d finally let go and given yourself to him completely. The release from something so prolonged…

It’s completely out of this world.

Transcendent is what he’d call it, restorative even. All that stress he’s been carrying, that tension throughout his body it’s vanished. There’s just this sense of calm and wellbeing.

He finds you outside, smoking a joint as you sit on one of his beech wood benches, surveying the plush greenery amongst the throes of his rock garden. It’s a tranquil space, somewhere he can just sit at the end of a long day and exist in nature, sipping herbal tea and listening to his sound bath songs.

“You’re wearing my shirt.” He comments as he lingers in the doorway, his gaze drinking you in.

Your wild hair falls away from your features as you tilt your head up to look at him. It’s those eyes that get him everytime, deep, fathomless pools with draw him in, drag him under. He’s always known you were an old soul, right from the very moment you met, he thinks that’s part of the attraction, the mystique of it all. He may know you intimately but there’s parts he’ll never be able to tap into.

“Buddhism is all about sharing Bodhi.” You remind him because he can be a little bit precious about his clothing.

“It is.” He agrees as he sits down on the bench alongside of you, his fingertips adjusting the hem of the t-shirt as it falls across the geometric lotus tattoo on your thigh, the one his mouth ghosted over last night. “So the least you can do is share your Hindu Kush.”

You take a drag from the spliff before exhaling, blowing the smoke into his mouth as you kiss him. The taste of citrus bursts on his tongue, the warmth of your lips, it floods his system with a sense of euphoria as raw heat erupts through his synapses. He’s forgotten what this strain does to him. Most people, it soothes, settling them down but for Bodhi, it works a little differently. It does for you too, he remembers.

“We need to get inside.” He mumbles against your lips, his thumb chasing along the curve of your jaw. “Otherwise I’m going to fuck you on this bench.”

You laugh then, that sweet sinful little sound that makes his dick even harder in the boxershorts he’d thrown on before coming out here.

“Then fuck me Bodhi.” You murmur as you lie down along the length of the bench, your back arching as you take another drag. “I don’t care if the neighbours complain.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[imogenkol]

Old Scars and New

word count: 3.3k warnings: blood, injury tending, disaster bisexual werewolf being cringe af tags: bandaging/stitching up wounds prompt

this is a slightly altered/updated version of my most popular piece of writing for this verse and thought I'd share it in my continued journey of rebuilding my relationship with my og works!

“Alright, who’s up first?” Nadya announced once everyone filed into the motel room.

Skye flashed a sly grin at the sight of Nadya putting her glasses on. “Ooh, are we gonna play doctor?”  

Jayde rolled her eyes and dumped her bag onto the floor, barely holding back a wince. The scent of her own blood invaded her lungs and she already felt bruises forming, but the aches and pains were far from uncommon occurrences. She dismissed any concern. “I’m fine.” 

Nadya ignored their comments and pointed at both of the siblings. “You two. Sit.”

“Are you going to tell me to roll over too?” Skye remarked. 

At the same time, Jayde reiterated grumpily “I said I’m fine.”

The human threw them a stern glare. Nadya may appear soft and approachable most of the time – even meek to those who underestimated her – but the wolves quickly discovered that she had a hidden talent for intimidation when she wanted to. Jayde and Skye simultaneously took their seats at the edge of one of the beds without further protest. 

Satisfied with their obedience, Nadya turned to Toby. “How are you feeling?” 

“Right as rain,” he replied.

She made a spin motion with her hand. “Twirl.” He held up his arms and turned in one slow circle, showing her that he was unscathed. “Nothing’s hurting?”

“Nope.”

She concluded her thorough scan with a pat on his shoulder. “Okay, you’re good.” 

Toby gave the sisters a childish smirk like he won a game and said “Ha.” Then sauntered over to a chair. 

Well, if the game went to whoever got hurt the least, then Jayde would never win. She almost scoffed at herself because the competitive side of her that came out around Toby hated the fact that she’d lose anything to him. She even made a mental note to be more careful the next time they encountered hunters just so that she could rub her success in his face. Maybe that was his real motive – to try a tactic that would work on a toddler simply to get the reckless blonde to take better care of herself. Jayde wouldn’t put it past him. 

Nadya addressed Skye next. “You got hit on the head pretty hard. How are you feeling?”

The young wolf widened her eyes. “I can see new colors now.”

Nadya laughed and fished out a small flashlight from her bag. “How about dizziness or nausea?”

Jayde watched on as Nadya carefully combed her fingers through Skye’s hair in search of any damage hidden in the light blonde waves. Skye kicked her feet like a little kid getting a check-up, but Jayde noted how her crooked smile evened out to something more… genuine. 

Skye was rarely ever anything but mischievous, as if life were just one big joke to her. Of course, there were precious few moments when her serious self would shine through, where there were no jokes to be made and she acted fairly mellow, much to her older sister’s relief. Jayde was shocked to see that happen more often when she interacted with Nadya. 

“I feel fine,” Skye answered, then flinched when Nadya touched the sore spot on her head. “Ow! But that hurts.” 

“Sorry.” Nadya winced apologetically. “I don’t see any blood, at least.” 

The tip of her finger tapped under Skye’s chin to get her to look up. It was then that Jayde noticed she had been chewing on the inside of her cheek. Skye went still as Nadya shined the light in her eyes. It felt like an eternity to Jayde. To see Nadya be so close to her sister, touching her in ways that Jayde longed for. The older wolf realized – with a hot flush to her cheeks – that she was jealous of Skye. That made her bite her cheek even harder as she forced herself to look down. 

Nadya stepped away, allowing Jayde to finally breathe normally again. “You don’t have a concussion, but I suggest you ice that for tonight.” 

“Sounds good, doc,” she replied with a wink. 

Just when Jayde thought she might get over the momentary lapse in her emotions, Nadya blushed. It was subtle enough that she might have been able to convince herself that she imagined it, but her thoughts took what she saw regardless of rationality and ran. 

The possibility had never occurred to her until that moment, but Jayde started to wonder if maybe Skye had feelings for the human, too. Jayde certainly couldn’t blame her if she did. It was Nadya, after all. This girl practically had Jayde wrapped around her finger the first day they met. The thing that ate at Jayde more than that were Nadya’s reactions to Skye. She wouldn’t have that hard of a time believing she also felt something for her. Her sister – in all of her annoying glory – was just as much of a catch. 

The concept felt nearly unbearable to consider, but Jayde knew that she would never stand in the way of her sister’s happiness or Nadya’s. Especially if it meant Nadya would get to be with someone far more worthy of her affections. Deep down, Jayde has been looking for a good, rock solid excuse to let her go. This possible outcome might be the easiest to accept. That didn’t mean it wasn’t exceptionally painful. 

Wallowing in a pit of her own creation caused Jayde to tune the rest of the world out until Nadya’s voice brought her back down to earth. 

“Crap, I grabbed the wrong kit,” she grumbled as she sifted through her bag.

Skye gasped dramatically. “Language.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Nadya said with an amused scoff and backed up towards the door. “I’m gonna go back to the car. I’ll pick up some ice for your head on the way back, too.” 

“Toby,” Jayde commanded with a purposeful glance. Despite being clear of immediate danger, she didn’t want anyone going anywhere by themselves. Not even to the parking lot. 

He nodded in understanding and got up. “Yeah, I’ll go with her.”  

Before they left, Nadya locked eyes with Jayde. For that single second, all of her worries were utterly nonexistent. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Try not to get into any more trouble.” 

“No promises,” Skye replied. Jayde looked to see that the devious smirk had returned to her face. 

The siblings remained seated on the musty motel bed once Toby and Nadya disappeared. The comforter felt scratchy, but Jayde still balled her fists into the fabric and stared at the worn carpet underneath her blood splattered boots. Something metallic tickled the edge of her tongue and she sighed at the sting that shortly followed, releasing her flesh from her own vengeful teeth. 

“So, what crawled up your ass?” Skye asked to break the awkward silence. 

Jayde gave her a brief side-glance. “Nothing.” 

“Right.” Her words already dripped with sarcasm. “You’re just acting like you have to take Old Yeller out back for no reason.” 

Jayde felt a brief spark boil in her chest, but it died out as quickly as it came. She didn’t have the will to be angry or defensive. She only sighed again and forced her question out. “Do you like her?”

There was no hesitation in Skye’s answer. “Yeah, of course I like her.”

“No, I mean… Do you like her?"

Confusion twisted the younger wolf’s features as she blinked at Jayde for several moments. Jayde wordlessly begged not to make her spell it out. The question alone was already mortifying enough. As soon as her meaning fully sank in, Skye’s expression promptly turned incredulous. 

“Forget it,” Jayde said curtly.

But Skye already jumped on it. “No, you know what? I do like her. I really, really like her. Yeah, I want her to have my babies.” 

Jayde had to fight the urge to growl. “It was a genuine question, Skye.” 

“And you’re a genuine idiot,” she fired back with no remorse. “I don’t want your girlfriend, Jayde.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” 

“She could be.”

“She shouldn’t.” 

Skye raised an eyebrow. “That’s not very progressive of you. You’re sounding like Miranda with that old world bullshit. Who cares if Nadya is a human? Just be careful not to break or bite her. That simple.” 

Jayde shook her head. “It’s not that…” 

The slow nod she saw out of the corner of her eye turned into a shrug as Skye leaned into her. “What if you’re wrong about yourself?” she whispered like a kid telling a secret. 

They fell back into another prolonged silence as Jayde rocked back and forth anxiously. She wasn’t wrong about herself, but Jayde somehow still had the smallest bit of hope that she could become someone Nadya deserves. That if she tried to be better, she wouldn’t fight this so hard or put herself through all of this pain. She had it in her. Somewhere. Buried underneath dirt and dust. The best version would peek through the cracks of everything broken about her whenever that girl was near. Jayde just had to figure out a way to widen the fractures and reach through. 

But she worried she would break herself even more by doing that. 

After a minute, her lungs deflated once more in utter hopelessness. “I am an idiot.” 

Familiar footsteps approached the room and Skye nudged her older sister with her elbow. “Chin up, sport.” 

Jayde managed to give her a grateful look just as the others returned. Nadya held a small bag of ice in one hand and a different first aid kit in the other. She went to Skye first and handed her the ice for her head. 

Guilt immediately flooded Jayde’s system for feeling so jealous. Nadya put in so much effort to take care of them all and Jayde had been worried that she wanted her sister over her. She needed to get over herself. 

“Okay, you’re good to go. Just take it easy,” Nadya ordered. 

Skye enthusiastically jumped to her feet while balancing the ice pack on top of her head. “Great, I’m gonna go get tacos across the street.” 

“Don’t go alone,” Jayde called as she skipped towards the door.

She waved dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, buddy system.” 

“You guys want anything?” Toby asked before he trailed after her.

“Just get me whatever you get,” Jayde said.

“Okay. Nadya?”

Nadya sounded slightly distracted as she prepared the kit. “Uh, what kinds are there?” 

“Asada, pollo, carnitas.” When she took too long to ponder the options, he translated in a patronizing tone “Beef, chicken, pork.” 

She looked up and fixed him with an exasperated stare. “I know what they mean, I was just thinking.” 

Toby chuckled. “Any day now.” 

“Get me chicken.” 

He gave a casual thumbs up. “You got it.” 

The motel room grew quiet again once it became only the two young women. The wolf took time to let the human’s presence calm the restless being within. She focused on how her air of crisp autumn spices encompassed her senses, even over the scents of the others. What fascinated Jayde was how her existence always broke through the most powerful things. Werewolves had an incredibly distinct and potent scent, so being around her pack should have masked the humanness of Nadya’s scent. But it didn’t. In fact, Jayde often sensed her before she sensed anything or anyone else. It was always her first. 

“Your turn?” Nadya suggested softly, immediately drawing Jayde’s full attention. 

Up to that point, she had completely forgotten about her injuries. “Oh, right.” 

Nadya came directly to her, standing just inches away. Jayde stared up at her and waited, totally transfixed. “Let’s get a look at that arm.” 

Jayde realized she needed to remove her jacket. She snapped herself out of her trance and carefully slipped out of it, grimacing as the fabric tugged at the graze on her bicep. Blood had mostly soaked into the jacket itself, but streaks of crimson still smeared across her skin and reached as low as her wrist.

Nadya bent down and adjusted her glasses to get a better look, but that furrow in her brow looked like it took too much effort. “Do you think we could move to the bathroom? The lighting sucks out here and I gotta get you cleaned up.” 

“Yeah.” 

Nadya followed closely behind as they entered the bathroom, but lingered over Jayde’s shoulder after turning the light on. “Hey, did you take a hit to the back?” 

Jayde craned her neck to see why she looked so concerned, but couldn’t see much of anything. The strain of twisting only made her injured shoulder spike with pain. “Um, I’m not sure. Maybe? I remember getting punched or something.” 

“There’s blood, Jay,” Nadya informed her, still inspecting the wound. “Take this off.” 

Jayde felt her entire body flare with intense heat as Nadya tugged at her shirt. She hesitated for a few beats to let the embarrassment pass. It wasn’t like Nadya hadn't seen her without a shirt on before. Hell, she’s seen her naked. She’s seen her turn into a goddamn werewolf, for fuck’s sake. Jayde wanted to curse at herself for being so stupid. 

She struggled to get out of the shirt on her own. It was enough that her shoulder felt as sore as it did, but now that she had been made aware of it, the wound on Jayde’s back stung like a bitch. As much as she wanted to hide her pain, she wasn’t able to stop herself from flinching when she tried to work one of her arms out of the ruined clothing. 

“Here, let me –” Nadya reached to help, but then her pulse spiked in the wolf’s ears like a drum had been struck and she stopped short. “Can I..?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jayde stammered and braced herself as the human stepped into her space. 

Nadya’s hands carefully gripped the bottom of the bloodied shirt and slowly pushed it up her torso. Jayde could tell that she tried not to, but there were still a couple of times where her fingers brushed up against bare skin. Jayde clenched her jaw tightly. Just those small, brief touches caused intense tingling to spread outwards from the places of contact. She shut her eyes and held her breath as her wolf fought to rise to the surface. A shiver raced along Jayde’s spine as she quickly dampened it. After a tense half-second, she felt the restless animal reluctantly retreat. 

Despite nearly losing control, Jayde didn’t feel afraid. Maybe because she knew Nadya wasn’t in any danger. The wolf only wanted a glimpse of her, but the last thing Jayde wanted was to cause any potential fear. She certainly didn’t want to think up some shitty excuse to explain why her eyes started to glow. 

The two of them successfully got the shirt over Jayde’s head with minimal pain and discarded it on the floor. Meeting Nadya’s gaze after that felt far braver than facing any hunter. She had this look in her warm brown eyes that Jayde couldn’t quite decipher. However, the physical effect in Nadya’s body was more obvious. Being so close, Jayde sensed it all. 

An erratic heartbeat. A clipped breath caught in her throat. A blooming scent that tempted Jayde nearer. 

Those were not things she noticed in Nadya with anyone else, Jayde realized. 

“I’m going to, uh…” Nadya motioned awkwardly, finally just shuffling behind her again. 

Jayde cleared her throat to banish her own nerves and brushed her tangled hair over her shoulder. “How’s it looking back there?” 

“This is pretty deep,” she murmured and began to clean it. “You really didn’t feel this?”

Jayde tensed at the incredibly cold sensation of a disinfectant wipe against her hot skin, but she still gave a half shrug. “I remember being hit, but that’s all.” 

“Well, you got lucky. It could have punctured your lung.”

Jayde set her hands on the edge of the sink and watched Nadya’s reflection carefully through the mirror. “Yeah, I feel lucky.” 

“That better not be sarcasm. Not when I’m looking at all these scars.” Nadya scolded as she got the stitches ready. “It looks like you should be dead ten times over.” 

“It’s because I should be.” 

They briefly shared a look. Nadya’s expression remained unreadable. Not that Jayde had the time to properly study it before she went back to work. 

She didn’t say anything while she made a few sutures — being too focused on her task of mending a werewolf — but then Jayde saw her brown eyes peek over her shoulder again. “I’m really glad you aren’t, by the way.” 

Jayde exhaled an almost whispered response. “Me too.”  

A bandage was carefully placed over the newly stitched wound, but Nadya lingered behind her. Jayde wondered if maybe she had spotted another wound that hadn’t quite traveled through her nerves and up to her brain yet, but then felt an incredibly delicate sensation tickle her lower back. It took a moment for her to realize that it was the tip of Nadya’s finger trailing over what had to be one of her scars. Jayde froze in place, not having a single clue how to react. 

“How many are there?” Nadya’s voice sounded distant. 

Jayde gripped the edges of the sink so that she wouldn’t fall over as the girl traced another sensitive mark. She was afraid that the slightest movement would cause her to stop. “I’ve never counted.” 

A soft hum echoed in the bathroom. “I guess you’ve got a couple more now. Which reminds me…” Nadya pulled her hand away, but before disappointment twisted an invisible knife in the werewolf’s chest, her palm rested on her hip and turned her around. 

The human’s sudden willingness to touch her in ways that could be considered intimate left Jayde’s mind in a utter stupor, stirring her inner self once more. She didn’t know what to make of it. Or what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, though that remained a line Jayde felt she shouldn’t cross. 

Nadya went to work on the laceration that cut through her upper arm and Jayde found herself thoroughly fascinated with the process. The human’s eyes were so focused, making sure each and every stitch was up to her standard. The way her brows knitted in concentration — the thin frame of her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose — replaced Jayde’s heart with a pair of fluttering wings. She could stare at her for hours. 

Nadya finally glanced up while she wrapped her arm. This time, her blush was entirely noticeable. “What?” 

The question made Jayde realize she had been smiling. She quickly looked away, though she couldn’t fully wipe the expression from her face. “Nothing.” 

“Okay,” Nadya said slowly, confused amusement written on her face. “Well, I’m all done.” 

Jayde nodded as she cleaned the mess up. As soon as the kit was packed, Nadya gave the wolf an unsure look and turned to leave the bathroom. On impulse, Jayde caught her wrist to stop her. A small gasp escaped Nadya’s lips at the unexpected touch, but she still waited expectantly. 

“Thank you.” Jayde caressed the smooth curve of her wrist with her thumb. For the first time, she didn’t try to hide it. She wanted Nadya to feel her gratitude. “For taking care of us.” 

Nadya’s features softened into an absolutely stunning smile. “I like taking care of you.” 

It took everything Jayde had not to pull her in. She yearned to feel Nadya against her. Longed to brush their lips together. To hold her close and swallow every breath. Feel all the ways she could get her heart to race. Instead, Jayde’s fingers went slack and Nadya slipped out of her grasp, leaving her alone in the bathroom with the ghost of her contact still prickling across the surface of her skin.

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @statichvm @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @jillvalentinesday @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch

[chainofclovers]

wip tag

Thank you for the tags, dear @thesumdancekid and @broadwayfreak5357!

I have three (3) (😩) (🤔) active WIPs at the moment.

One is a mess but very dear to me and it is a secret in that I am being weirdly precious about it and don’t wanna talk about it.

But I’ll share some little snippets from the other two.

This is from a 5+1 fic that is mostly Ted/Rebecca (with a probable guest star), covering last nights of Ted’s visits to London starting with the first night they hook up. (Fun fact: the charades snippet from discord has morphed into the start of the first night!) Here’s a few lines from the end of part one of the story:

At three in the morning, they calculate when Ted needs to leave to get his stuff from the hotel and make it to the airport on time. They’ve been lying in the dark awake together, unwilling to stop touching or talking, but the sobering calculations make Rebecca turn a light on. There’s barely any time left. 

“I’ll take you,” she says. 

They shower together, nearly dazed under the hot spray of water. After, he dresses in his rumpled clothes, and she puts on soft things—yoga pants, a sports bra, a gauzy jumper. His hotel isn’t far, and she idles on the street in the Range Rover while he rushes inside to pack. He’s back in under ten minutes, and then all that’s left is to drive to Heathrow and hold each other in the departures lane and cry.

—

And then this next one is also from a post-s3 story, this time a Beard/Rebecca/Ted situation in which Beard is single-parenting and Ted and Rebecca are in a long-distance relationship that they very enthusiastically invite him to join despite him being all kinds of fucked in the head. :)

This is from right in the beginning:

The only reason Beard is awake this early in the morning is because Lavender is crying. It’s cool and dim in Rebecca’s bedroom, the perfect conditions for sleep, and he’s been sleeping deeply until now. Even the sound of the baby crying is almost soothing in its familiarity, but she gets louder almost immediately, upgrading from dissatisfied whimpers to a proper caterwaul. 

“I’ll go,” Rebecca murmurs. 

“No,” he tries to say, but he’s sleepy and slow, and Rebecca is already shoving the duvet down her body and sitting up. 

“You got her last time,” she says. “It’s fine.” She brushes her hand against his bare shoulder and she’s gone. 

He’s glad he doesn’t have time to say what he’s thinking, which is But I’m her dad. He doesn’t mean You aren’t her parent; you don’t count, but there’s a good chance she’d take it that way.

He means You shouldn’t have to help at all. He means We shouldn’t even be here. I should be better at being on my own. 

—

I tag: anyone who wants to do this…and a few names (sorry for any retags)… @boglady @dollsome-does-tumblr @talldecafcappuccino @majolination @cowherderess @itsagutthing @fandomfrolics @destinationtoast

[mxanigel]

8 13 21 34 89 for wrapped!

Squeee~ thank you! 💜

8) Vance Joy - Clarity

BRAINROT~ The precious moments that we shared That slow time down inside my head I wish I'd found this clarity While I still had you close to me

13) Carly Rae Jepsen - Cut to the Feeling

lucky number 13 since it's come up twice~ :D I must have picked a good inspiration for Shion's fic!

21) Imagine Dragons - Natural

uh so Imagine Dragons was my top artist this year, lol. Thanks to brainrot, this track now always makes me think of the crapsack world of Attack on Titan.

34) Royal Republic - Getting Along

I LOVE THIS TRACK. I adore the idea of Lynn Shepard or Neri Surana getting snarky about their ever-increasing unwanted responsibilities and just dancing around singing "I'm gettin' along because there ain't nothing to it" (even though there IS a lot to it, lol)

89) WALK THE MOON - Shut Up and Dance

tbh I figured this song would get old after it helped inspire a fic for Aryn Lavellan (after which I stopped writing for her), but no, it's too energetic and cute to toss away. Fits Lynn/Garrus pretty well too. ^_^

[holyguardian]

That grin was contagious, one glance was all it took for Aerith to mirror the expression with a hint of pride. She wasn't ashamed of her weaknesses so much — perhaps it was a good thing for Somnus to be aware of such things, like her slow descent into chaotic actions when she grew bored of a task.

"... mh. That's a sweet thought." she conceded, gaze lowering to the bound parchment again. Some of the papers were warped from being painted heavily with water strokes. Perfectly imperfect, nothing neat or proper about her soul or true heart. That sounded right. "You are more than welcome to look through them, I'm not precious about guarding my paintings. Though I would rather you look at this one especially." she insisted, giving the bound pages a small wave before passing them to him for safe-keeping. "It's some of the most recent things I have painted, and I find I don't flinch away when I look back at them."

When Aerith lifted her gaze properly to the Prince again, she found herself humming a curious tone as she tilted her head. She followed his own gaze. Her mouth opened around a silent 'ah' of realisation, and for a moment she seemed to gentle in both her expression and her stance.

"This... is my birth father." she answered, captivated by her mother's painting so much so that she continued to look upon it. "He died when I was only a baby. Mum... she did her best. Tried to build a connection to him, I suppose, but... I was so little, I didn't understand that I was missing something, you know?"

Aerith sighed a little, her shoulders melting into a more relaxed posture. Finally she looked back to Somnus again. "I get it now that I'm older. I wish I had gotten the chance to know him in life, but I am blessed to have met his spirit. The one thing I will say is... don't be ashamed of noticing him. For pointing him out, some people are funny about death like that." Though Lucis seemed to honour their dead's memory with great care too.

Amidst their conversation came a gentle knock at the door. Her lady's maid must have heard their voices here. "Princess Aerith, the bath is prepared."

That small announcement made her perk up with a smile. "Thankyou!" she replied, bright-eyed as she looked back to Somnus. "Right. Let's show you how we do bath time here, you're going to need one thing first."

Aerith approached her wardrobe, easily pulling free a couple large robes, one she placed aside and the other she handed to Somnus. "You'll need that. We don't dress ourselves in the same room where we have a bath, the air is steamy, and you're begging for a mess. So, once we're clean, we dry ourselves down as good as we can then we put on that robe. Trust me. They're.. modest." she offered. "It's a little odd, maybe, but we walk like that from the bath, back to our room. It's very uncommon for anyone to just walk a royal wing without good reason, but because it's so obvious among the staff that a bath has been drawn up, I cannot stress enough that no one will see you."

It was her little promise to him.

"Follow me." Aerith offered. She gestured to their shared chamber door. "You will obviously come back and enter through that door. The bath is the first door on the right." She opened up the door and gestured him inside. Inside was a wooden tub, and inside that tub was lined with a white cloth. The water itself was a milky colour and it smelled of flowers, yet another difference from Lucis. "Alright. Sponge there. When you're stepping back out, stand on that folded cloth unless you like to live recklessly, the stone can sometimes be slippery if it's too wet." Then she rolled her wrist. "And enjoy." she offered, smiling as she pulled the door shut behind her, giving him his privacy.

A map of her childhood. And she had just handed him the key to reading it perfectly. Just like that. Somnus could appreciate this fact. His eyes wandering over all the various paintings, he could imagine a smaller Aerith sitting at her table. Probably propped up on her knees with paint all over hands and face already as she focused oh-so-hard on drawing her family.

She must be similar now. It was apparent that she never paused long in her drawings. The table was evidence enough. She still painted. A lot. And she bound her work – forced or not. That was a large part of her… and Somnus liked it.

Grinning at the difference in bindings, he let his fingers trail along the frayed and neat edged for a moment. He wanted to see all her works. But he did not dare to simply take and flip through all these parchments. This was highly… intimate somehow.

“I heard people say they put their souls and true heart in what they paint.”, he mused, looking at her bound artworks, “If you would allow me to see yours one day, I would be honoured.”

The small grin shifting into a smile, Somnus nodded towards the epicentre of it all. The drawing coming from Queen Ifalna. A man with brown hair and a moustache. He looked kind. Funny, a little. But it was no one that Somnus knew.

“Who is he?”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [4] - Venus Flytrap

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback and support my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: It’s important to keep one’s promises.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, slow burn.

Word Count: 4300

Series Masterlist

You didn’t have a lot of things that you could call your own while growing up. Almost everything you wore had passed down to you from your sister whom you also shared a room with, so anything that only belonged to you was very precious to you.

So you had made yourself a flower garden.

It hadn’t been easy. In fact at first, you had worked in that small corner of the garden -as far away from your house as possible- from morning until the night fell, until your sister would call you back home for dinner. Eventually, you had managed to save up a little to buy a book on different types of flowers, and in the following days you hadn’t stopped reading it until you memorized it line by line, the various drawings of flowers on yellow pages embedded into your mind.

So needless to say, you couldn’t wait until you would see this flower exhibition.

“Can we leave now?”

“My dearest, the exhibition will open at 1 o’clock,” your aunt said with a laugh. “It’s not even the time yet, I assure you we won’t be late.”

“Maybe they’ll open it earlier?” you asked and she tilted her head.

“We will leave soon, I promise,” she said, her focus still on the paper she was writing on. “Just wait until I finish this letter.”

You slumped back down on the armchair and drummed your fingertips on the cushion.

“Are you sure you don’t want to see the exhibition with me?”

“No thank you dear,” she said. “Me and Teddy will sit by the pastry shop while waiting for you, you know how much he likes those chocolate cakes there.”

You suppressed a smile and as if on cue, Teddy ran into the room in full speed to fling himself at you.

“Whoa, hello there!” you said as you wrapped your arms around him to give him a hug. “We were just talking about you, are you ready?”

He nodded fervently and turned around in your arms to look at your aunt.

“Hello auntie! I finished all the work Mr. Langdon gave me!”

“Good job Teddy!” your aunt said, making you smile wide as you looked down at Teddy.

“Even French?”

“Even French!”

You gasped. “That’s wonderful Teddy!” you said. “Do you want to come see the flowers with me?”

He thought for a moment, an exaggerated solemn look crossing his face.

“I will if you want me to,” he said. “But first the pastry shop?”

“Told you,” your aunt said with a laugh as she sprinkled sand on the paper, then blew on it and carefully placed the paper into the envelope. “Very well, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

By the time you got to the street where the exhibition and the pastry shop was on, you were almost trembling in anticipation. You barely listened to what your aunt was saying before you made your way to where the exhibition was held, your maid following you while your aunt and Teddy went to the pastry shop across the street. You quickly paid for your ticket, then stepped inside, the view making you hold your breath.

Oh you weren’t going to leave this place until you were sure you saw every single flower in detail.

The exhibition had the same layout of a museum, and all the flowers were divided into categories. Since you were one of the earliest guests, there were only a couple of people which would make it so much easier for you to spend as much time as you wanted with every flower, and a giddy giggle climbed up your chest which you quickly hid by clearing your throat and making your way to the nearest flower.

By the time you got to see most of the flowers in room, two hours had already passed and it was slowly getting crowded. Even if you could feel the gaze of some lords -who were probably there to chaperone their sisters- on you, you paid no mind to them, you were way too focused on the lovely sights in front of you to even turn your glances.

That was, until you heard a very familiar voice.

“What a coincidence to find you here Miss Y/N.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, heaved a sigh and opened them again before turning to look up at him. Benedict was smiling at you in a very proud manner, as if he was delighted to in fact find you there. Your heart skipped a beat but you pulled your brows into a frown, shooting him a glare which didn’t seem to discourage him at all.

“Is it?”

“Hm?”

“Is it a coincidence?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Seems like it.”

“It has nothing to do with the fact that you told me about this exhibition and knew very well I’d be here?”

“I suddenly found myself very much interested in flowers,” he said, his mischievous smile still playing on his lips. “And felt the need to see some.”

“Name one flower here.”

He looked around and pointed at the door with his thumb. “That’s a rose.”

“That’s also not a part of the exhibition, they just put it there for decoration.”

“Still counts.”

You heaved another dramatic sigh and walked past him to look at the next flower, hoping that he would get the message but of course he did not as he followed you.

“This one looks pretty.”

“It’s also very deadly,” you murmured, leaning in to inspect the petals better and Benedict tilted his head.

“Really?”

You nodded, deep in thought.

“Yeah, all parts of it,” you said. “But especially the rhizomes; the thickened roots. It’s called Flame Lily, it’s pretty and not that difficult to grow, it can even grow in sand dunes, but it’s very dangerous and people have to be very careful with it in their garden because it’s fatal to anyone who digests it. It’s also—” you stopped immediately when you caught yourself rambling and turned your head to see Benedict watching you with a soft smile and you narrowed your eyes, straightening your back and crossing your arms.

“You can read, can’t you?” you snapped and nodded in the direction of the small name plate with the information under it. “It’s all there.”

“I think that was the longest time you’ve talked to me so far.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He almost resembled a hopeful puppy. “Tell me more.”

“I’m not the flower almanac,” you replied in a haste, trying to cover up the awkwardness that was taking over you for giving him an impromptu lesson in flowers and skipped to the next flower, with him following you suit.

“What does this one do?”

“It doesn’t do anything— alright, you know what?” you turned to glare at him. “You’re disrespecting the lady you’re courting right now. I don’t know about your arrangement nor do I care, but keep me out of this—”

“What?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I want no part in it,” you said and he shook his head fervently.

“No not that, what lady?”

“The lady you’re courting.”

He blinked a couple of times. “…Who am I courting?”

“Charlotte Harlowe.”

“Charlotte?” he repeated. “We’re not—Jesus Christ, this again? Who did you hear that from?”

“What does it matter?” you asked and he ran a hand over his face, a look of exhaustion crossing his eyes as if this was the hundredth time he was explaining that to someone.

“Charlie is a close friend of mine.”

You scoffed a laugh and shot him a mocking glance. “Sure. Very close I’m guessing.”

“No she really is a friend. We could never see each other that way, there’s no courtship between us, nor could there ever be.”

“And you were what, talking about art when you were in that room alone back in your house?”

“That’s exactly what we were doing.”

“Well I…I don’t care,” you said, ignoring the small spark of hope shooting through your system and throwing your shoulders back. “Just keep me out of it—”

“I’m not courting anyone right now,” he cut you off as if it was imperative that you knew it and you raised your brows.

“One could assume your ways of trying to find love is not working,” you taunted. “I’m sure you are finding something though, so not a complete loss I suppose.”

That seemed to have rendered him speechless for a moment and you used that to your advantage, walking closer to the last flower in the exhibit; Venus Flytrap.

“I think I gave you the wrong impression when um, when we bumped into each other at Madame Delacroix’s shop and what you read about me on Whistledown, but I can assure you—” he was cut off when you held your breath. “What?”

“Stop talking and don’t move,” you said, your eyes fixed on the small fly buzzing over the Venus Flytrap before it landed on the open flower.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah,” you said, still holding your breath like if you breathed too loud it would somehow scare the fly away. “If that fly stays there long enough, it will close.”

Benedict tilted his head and you nibbled on your lip, counting down in your head until the trap closed, making you exhale in disbelief. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Benedict’s focus shifting to you but you were almost too dazed to even snap at him, and you leaned in closer to see the closed flower better, excitement rushing through you.

“Is it your favorite flower?” Benedict asked and you pulled back slightly, then turned to look at him.

“Venus Flytrap?” you asked. “No. Why?”

“I’ve heard some lords—never mind,” he said, making your frown deepen.

“What?”

“I’ve heard some lords call you that.”

“Venus Flytrap?” you asked and rolled your eyes. “How original of them.”

“So what is your favorite flower then?” he insisted. “Roses?”

“Sure,” you deadpanned. “Limitless options to choose from in the nature and I chose roses as my favorite.”

Benedict smiled slightly. “Tulips.”

“Not even close.”

“Orchids.”

“Now you’re just insulting me.”

“Dahlias.”

You arched a brow. “You know what a dahlia is?”

“I wasn’t raised in a barn,” he said, a proud grin lighting up his face again. “Is it dahlias?”

You shook your head. “My favorite isn’t that commonly found,” you said. “It’s not here, or in any florist in London.”

“What is it then?”

“Middlemist Red.”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that one.”

“Makes two of us.”

He looked quite confused now. “Your favorite flower is a flower you haven’t seen before?”

“I’ve seen sketches of it,” you said. “It’s the most beautiful flower in the world. I don’t have to see it in person to know it’s my favorite, it simply is.”

“You like the idea of a flower?”

“You like the idea of love,” you said without missing a beat, “At least mine exists somewhere.”

That playful light started glimmering in his eyes again. “So does mine.”

“So you hope.”

“So I know.”

You let out a hum, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Well, I wouldn’t have the time to rest if I started correcting every man’s illusions with the truth,” you pointed out and looked around the room, then nodded at your maid. “That being said, I should take my leave now.”

“I was just about to walk outside as well,” Benedict said quickly and you shook your head, then stepped out of the building with him, your maid right behind you. “No really, do you believe in anything?”

“Other than the absolute truth?”

“One could claim there is no such a thing as absolute truth.”

“Oh I can assure you that there is,” you said. “Some of us just don’t have the luxury of entertaining such pointless ideas, unlike what your artistic circle of friends made you believe.”

He opened his mouth to argue with that thought for sure, but before he had a chance to say anything, a familiar, cheerful voice reached you.

“Y/N!”

You instantly turned your head to see Teddy running to you in full speed and he flung himself to you, making you suppress a smile before you knelt down to look at him better. He had traces of chocolate all over his cheeks and you wiped at them, tilting your head.

“Did you fall into the chocolate cauldron?”

“I ate two slices of chocolate cake!” he held up two fingers and you gasped.

“Did you?” you asked. “Two slices?”

“Yes!” he said, nodding hard enough to give himself a head spin. “And we got those—those small chocolates as well, those round ones!”

You couldn’t help the smile warming your face. “Which round ones?”

“You know! The ones I brought you the last time! You invented that drink which—which we put chocolates in milk, it was your idea!”

A small giggle escaped from your lips and wiped at his cheek again as you saw your aunt making her way to you. Her eyes averted from you to Benedict and your heart skipped a beat, you had almost forgotten he was right there. As soon as you straightened your back again, you saw him watching you with a smile which made you pull yourself together and you pursed your lips again, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head as if he was trying to snap out of some sort of a daze and turned to your brother. “Hello there. I’m Benedict, what’s your name?”

Teddy came closer to you, half hiding behind your skirt. He had his moments of shyness around strangers but he was slowly starting to overcome that lately and he stole a look at you before turning to Benedict.

“I’m Teddy.”

“Nice to meet you Teddy,” Benedict said, extending his hand and Teddy eyed him for a moment before shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Mr. Bridgerton, what a coincidence!” your aunt said and Benedict bowed, the perfect picture of dignity and charm.

“Lady Thorne,” he said. “What an honor to see you again.”

You rolled your eyes but thankfully your aunt didn’t see that.

“Are you here to see the exhibition as well?” your aunt asked and Benedict nodded.

“Yes I was,” he said. “Though I’m quite ignorant on flowers, Miss Y/N has been the most helpful tutor to me today.”

You made a face at him, making him suppress a smirk as your aunt pressed a hand over her chest.

“Aw such a delightful encounter then!”

“Debatable,” you muttered under your breath and Teddy looked up at you.

“Hm?”

“Nothing Teddy.”

“And I was so taken by all this newfound knowledge that I forgot to ask,” Benedict said. “Miss Y/N, are you by any chance coming to the Brewer Ball tonight?”

“Why?” you asked tersely and your aunt cleared her throat.

“Yes we are, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Any chance you could spare me a dance then?” he asked, making your aunt gasp and you gritted your teeth, glaring at him.

Oh he was doing this on purpose.

He knew your aunt would love it, and that you couldn’t say no right in front of her. Even though the idea was tempting, you clicked your tongue and heaved a sigh.

“…Sure,” you said after a couple of seconds and he smiled at you sweetly.

“Wonderful,” he said. “I should take my leave I think. Lady Thorne.”

“Mr. Bridgerton.”

“See you later Teddy.”

Teddy only waved at him and Benedict took a step, but stopped when he heard your voice.

“Mr. Bridgerton?”

He turned around immediately. “Miss Y/N?”

You let a mocking smirk pull at your lips.

“Do give Madame Delacroix my best,” you said. “When you go to um…pick up your sister’s gowns from her shop.”

He stared at you, his mouth slightly open in amusement and you curtsied, then turned your back to him to smile at your aunt who looked very happy, your implication lost to her as you knew it would be.

“So,” you said “Are we going home now?”

                                           *

It wasn’t that you had been excited for a dance with him.

It wasn’t as if your heart was pacing in your chest when you had stepped into the ballroom, or that your eyes searched the crowd in hopes of finding him.

It wasn’t like any of that because if it were, then that would have meant that bitter taste at the back of your throat was disappointment. Even though Daphne, Anthony, Colin and Lady Bridgerton were in the ballroom, there was no sign of Benedict.

Whatever. It was good riddance, and even if your aunt was quite upset at him not showing up after asking you to spare him a dance, you had convinced her that you did not care.

Which you did not.

Almost two hours into the ball, your dance card was full and as much as you hated it, dancing with various lords somehow provided you a distraction from the anger boiling at the pit of your stomach. It was just flat out rude to not come to the ball after this afternoon’s exchange, but it served as a reminder that you should not even have spared him a thought, no matter what he said.

Instead, you were going to just focus on this extremely pointless and boring conversation you had been somehow pulled into after your sixth dance.

“No I haven’t been to one yet I’m afraid,” you said, making Lord Brumley raise his brows.

“You’ve never been to a horse race, my lady?”

“No.”

“You’re jesting surely?”

You shook your head. “I just haven’t find the occasion I think.”

“Oh I love horse races!” he said as if you had asked him. “You must allow me to accompany you to one this season my lady.”

“Are they that entertaining?”

“Extremely!” he said. “It’s right up there for me with fencing.”

“You like fencing as well,” you muttered, looking around as subtly as you could. “I see. Are you any good at it?”

“I’m very good at it,” he said with a tinge of pride in his tone, but none of the playfulness Benedict always possessed. “Back at school -I mean of course it’s been years now, but I was the best one among my friends…”

The rest of his sentence disappeared into the rest of the chatter in the ballroom as you saw Benedict walk into the ballroom, looking somehow out of breath. You could feel your heart skipping a beat as you noticed how handsome he looked, but you bit on your tongue, trying to focus.

It was rude at best and just plain arrogant at worst to just ask you for a dance and then deciding to skip the ball, as if you were one of those ladies desperate for his attention. The anger was making it hard to listen to anyone but your own thoughts, yet you forced yourself to turn your gaze to Lord Brumley who was very much interested in telling you how he had beaten his best friend in a fencing match, but soon enough he was cut off by another voice, a very, very familiar one.

“Miss Y/N.”

You gritted your teeth and turned to look at him in complete silence, arching a brow. He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat.

“May I have a word?”

“I’m in the middle of a conversation,” you said flatly as you turned to Lord Brumley who nodded at him.

“Hello Benedict.”

“Thomas.”

Oh great, they knew each other.

“Well I’m sorry to say this but the lady is quite interested in our conversation,” Lord Brumley said with a grin. “And I even got a very faint smile from her during our dance.”

You tried your hardest to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Accidents happen I suppose,” you muttered, making Lord Brumley chuckle.

“Don’t you have someone else you should dance with?” Benedict asked him tersely and you took a deep breath.

“Excuse me Lord Brumley, it seems that I must destroy yet another man’s hopes,” you told him, making him laugh and bow his head.

“Of course, my lady.”

You walked away from him, with Benedict following you.

“Y/N—”

“I’m sure there’s supposed to be an honorific in there somewhere,” you said, your voice ice cold as you walked to the window just so that you could make sure you wouldn’t look at him. Benedict took a deep breath.

“I know I’m late,” he said. “I…please accept my apologies, I did not mean to.”

“I don’t care about your intention or your presence,” you said, grabbing a drink from the tray to sip it nonchalantly, as if your heart wasn’t beating in your throat. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Daphne looking at you two but you forced yourself to keep your gaze on the night sky, stars glimmering.

“No I was going to come here much sooner, with my family actually but—”

“I don’t know why you’re so insistent on always giving me all these explanations, it’s not as if I ask for any of them,” you cut him off. “That being said, whoever it is that’s holding your leash, Miss Harlowe or Madame Delacroix or someone else, they really ought to shorten it.”

He shook his head.

“I know what it looks like but I can assure you,” he said. “I meant what I said about dancing with you, I still want to dance with you—”

“Oh you still want to dance with me?” you asked, a disdainful chuckle escaping from your lips as you finally turned to look at him. “Well I’m honored, Mr. Bridgerton. Truly, I am.”

He paused for a moment, as if trying to find the right words.

“I was painting,” he ended up saying and you raised your brows, shrugging your shoulders.

“Alright, great. You can go back to that now.”

“No you don’t understand,” he said hastily. “I haven’t been able to paint for…for months now, lacking inspiration for so long and it was absolute torture but when I returned home today, I could finally start again. I lost the track of time until it was finished.”

Your heart made a leap in your chest. That feeling was quite familiar, you had lost the track of time while tending to your garden more times than you could count, and yet his explanation did nothing to soothe the pang of anger inside of you.

“I didn’t even hear my family leave,” he added. “It was almost a haze, even.”

“Sounds fun,” you said, your voice completely flat. “Must be nice to have that luxury to be left alone when you want to.”

“Would you dance with me for the last—”

“No,” you cut him off. “I promised the last dance to someone else, and even if I didn’t, I still wouldn’t dance with you.”

That look in his eyes was so sad that you felt your stomach turn but you forced yourself to keep your expression completely still.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’d like to make amends if you’d let me, it was never my intention to break your heart.”

You stared at him, that bitterness spreading through your system as an amused chuckle left your lips.

“See, this is the issue with you artists, your endless imagination,” you said. “I don’t have a heart. Don’t disappoint yourself or me any further by assuming otherwise.”

He paused only for a second before he shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

You scrunched up your nose and tilted the glass towards his direction to point at him. “Right, because you know me so well.”

“I think you want people to think you have no heart,” he pointed out. “And don’t get me wrong, you’re very good at convincing most of them. But I don’t think that’s the case.”

Your jaw clenched, that spark of fury shooting through your system as soon as the feeling of defenselessness crashed down on you. It was somehow way too familiar and you could feel your throat tightening but you managed to appear completely calm, tilting your head to the side.

“Quite the creative theory,” you commented and lowered your voice so that no one else in the ballroom could hear you but him.

“Did you come up with it while looking for inspiration between some lady’s legs?”

He pulled back slightly as if your words took him by surprise, and granted you would have never formed that sentence if it were any other lord, if it were any other person, especially now that you were in public but anger was pulsing through you too fast to let you even think about the consequences of your implications.

It was unbecoming of a lady, nor was it acceptable in any way but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when you were this furious at him, his assumptions and his actions tonight.

“Miss Y/N, I believe your next dance is with me?” Lord Johnson’s voice reached your ears and both you and Benedict turned your heads, snapping out of the haze.

“…Yes,” you said. “Of course, Lord Johnson.”

Benedict’s jaw clenched but he bowed his head at you. “My lady.”

“My lord,” you said and it was only when Lord Johnson took a step back that you took a step forward to Benedict so that he could hear your low voice even through the chatter of the ballroom.

“You don’t know me,” you nearly growled. “And you never will.”

And then, you dropped a curtsy and placed your hand in Lord Johnson’s, and let him lead you to the dance floor.

Chapter 5

[sinner-as-saint]

Just A Little Too Much.

(Dark) Mob!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader AU

Run-through: You met Steve after your parents got divorced. He was your mom’s ‘special friend’, and you soon began living at his place, along with your mom. You were just 18 and a half then, and Steve became the only man you looked up to after you learnt that your father was sent to prison for unknown reasons. Soon, Steve became the only family you had after your mother started going away on even more trips for work, then came the time where she stopped coming home altogether. But that was alright, because you had Steve. You were his Princess, and he often told you that you needed no one else but him. He would do anything for you, he loved you - perhaps just a little too much. 

Themes: innocent!reader, manipulation, dark!steve, smut, fluff

You woke up from your nap with a faint smile on, feeling a pair of lips leaving soft, warm kisses all over your cheek. 

Steve. 

You immediately felt so warm just knowing he was here; his powerful scent wrapping around you, making you feel safe. 

“Wake up, Princess.” He murmured. “It’s your birthday, you can’t be napping.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing one could do. 

You heard Steve’s voice, and felt his beard trail after his lips all over your face. You opened your eyes, giggling and realizing that you had fallen asleep on the couch in your bedroom. You looked up to find Steve above you, his strong arm placed on the back of the couch as he bent over slightly to look down at you with his pretty blue eyes. He was dressed in one of his many expensive, well-tailored suits which gave away that he had just finished some call or video conference regarding work. 

“Hi Stevie.” 

His soft gaze roamed your body. “Hi Princess. Come on wake up, you don’t wanna sleep all day.” 

You smiled up at him. “Yes I do.” You said, making him raise his eyebrows at you; smirking. “It’s my birthday, I can nap all day if I want to.” You did make a fair point, he had to admit. 

His smirk morphed into a gentle, calming smile as he reached out to caress your cheek softly. “But I miss you.” 

You shrugged, lazily. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.” 

His lips parted in fake surprise. “Is that so?” 

The moment you saw his hands reaching out towards you, you knew he was planning to tickle you till you ran out of breath and begged him to stop. So you shot up and slipped from his grasp, running away as fast as you could; giggling uncontrollably. 

Steve chased you, chuckling each time you escaped his grasp. “Come here, Princess. You can’t run from me, you know that.” He chased you around the room, watched you as you jumped over the coffee table, the pouf and just as you were about to run into the walk-in closet Steve managed to grab your hand and tackled you down on the bed. 

He had you trapped, giggling and squirming under him. He was a happy man as he looked down at you, pinning your wrists down on the bed above your head, his face so close to yours that he was certain you and him were sharing the same breath. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

You eventually stopped fighting and squirming. You looked up at him and smiled as big as you could. You stared up at him and saw the man who was your everything. 

Steve was your everything. Your family was… absent. Steve said none of them cared about you as much as he did. Steve also said that your father was not a good man, and that’s why he was locked up in jail. You never asked why, or what he did to deserve such punishment, but Steve said that it wasn’t important for you to know so you let it go. Your mom was not here either, she was always out of the country, working. Steve said your mom made work her priority over you, but that was okay too because you had Steve. And he was all you need. 

Steve looked down at you, admiring how pretty his Princess was. When he first saw you around four years ago, he knew he had to protect you forever. You were too precious, too innocent for this world. He couldn’t just stand there and watch this world corrupt you in any way, so he kept you close. He did what he had to in order to keep you under his roof and protection all the time. He made sure you’d never have to worry about anything, ever. 

“Hi Princess.” He murmured again, still on top of you. You gave him a smile which always melted his heart ever since day one. You owned him, and you probably had no idea about all the things he was willing to do for you. 

“Hi Stevie.” To you, he had always been Stevie - your best friend, your family, your protector - your everything. You don’t know where everyone went, or why everyone gradually disappeared from your life once you met Steve. But you had him, and he was all you needed. 

“Happy Birthday.” He whispered, wishing you for the fifth time since this morning when you woke up in his arms. Steve leaned down to kiss the side of your mouth. 

You relished his touch. Steve always made you feel good just by being there, and having all his attention on you was all you ever wanted. You giggled as he kissed his way down your neck. “Thank you.” 

He hummed as he kissed along the neckline of the dress you were wearing. “Did you like your gift, Princess?” Steve asked, kissing along the top of your breasts. 

You let out a quiet gasp of pleasure as you felt him gently nip at your skin. You nodded, “I did. Thank you, Stevie.” You whispered, getting lost in the way he made you feel. You thought of the gift he had given you this morning, it was currently parked in the twelve-car garage of the house, sitting there with a pretty, red bow on top of it. It was your shiny, new dream car. 

“We can go on a drive later, if you want.” He murmured against your skin, one of his hands releasing your wrists, lowering to undo the buttons at the front of your dress. 

You shivered as you felt the warm, slow touches of his lips and fingertips all at the same time. He was always so gentle with you and always so mean to others. He always said that was because you were his precious Princess and other people meant nothing to him. 

A drive with Stevie sounded amazing. Only, he’s always working these days. Would he even have the time? “We could. But then what about work?” 

He froze for a moment, hearing the hint of sadness and uncertainty in your tone. He hated it. He hated that he had been so engrossed in work this past week that you noticed he wasn’t spending enough time with you. 

Steve pulled away and looked up at you. “I’ve been too busy with work lately, haven’t I?” He asked, knowing the answer. The little, sad nod you gave him made his heart hurt. “Aww…” he cooed, reaching up to kiss your nose, “I’m sorry, Princess.” He murmured against your skin and pulled away to look into your eyes again. “How about this, you have me all to yourself for the whole day today and the upcoming week? Sounds good?” 

He didn’t care about how much that would affect the many people who worked for him, all he knew was that his Princess needed him and he would do anything to make her happy. 

You smiled brightly. “Perfect!” 

He chuckled before leaning in to kiss your lips. Slow and gentle at first, before growing more and more needy for you. He pressed his body against yours, allowing you to feel the urgency of his need. You gasped into the heated kiss as you felt his hardness in between your legs. Steve shoved his tongue past your lips, tasting you, stroking the inside of your mouth. You whined when you felt him roll his hips against yours. 

You felt warm, burning with need just as much as he was. And he knew. 

You shivered in pleasure as you felt him kiss his way down your body again, unbuttoning your dress with impatience, his need overpowering his entire being. He needed you, needed to taste you and have you come undone on his tongue, he needed your taste embedded in his brain, not wanting to risk ever forgetting it. 

Steve kissed down the middle of your breasts, down till your belly button and stopped at the waistband of your light pink, lace panties, which matched the bra and the dress you wore. Wanting to tease you just a little, he stuck his tongue out and licked along the edge of your underwear before licking up and down your wet, clothed core. 

He watched you squirm on the bed. Smirking devilishly, he kissed along your inner thigh just to mess with you a little more. He could tell you were slowly giving into the haze of pleasure which washed over you even though he had barely touched you yet. 

“Stevie…” you whispered, closing your eyes and tipping your head back as he nibbled along the soft skin on your inner thigh. “Please…” 

He had to give in. His cock twitched in his pants, straining against the zipper at the sound of your soft moans and pleas. 

He pulled your underwear away from your skin and to the side, exposing your dripping wet folds to his hungry eyes. He could tell just by the look of it that your sensitive clit was throbbing. He hummed in satisfaction, “Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever seen…” He whispered more so to himself, reminding himself - not that he would ever forget - that you were his. “Spread your legs for me, Princess.” 

You did, just like you did everything he asked. You parted your legs then supported yourself up on your elbows, watching him. Steve once mentioned that he liked it when you watched him as he pleasured you. 

You let out a moan the moment his mouth touched you. His lips moved along your wet folds as his tongue teased your entrance. His beard scratched your sensitive skin, as your arousal spread all over his mouth. 

“You taste so sweet, Princess.” You watched how Steve closed his eyes, savouring your taste. You were a moaning mess in no time, your whole body electrified at his touch. “Like strawberries and honey.” He moaned at your taste alone, humping against the bed discreetly. He could always fuck you later, but right now was strictly about you. 

Steve moved his hand which was caressing up and down your thigh towards your core. He pushed his two fingers past your entrance and pumped them in and out of you slowly, gradually increasing his pace. He felt your walls clench around his fingers as you moaned louder and louder with each stroke of his fingers against your walls. His mouth moved to your throbbing clit, teasing you further until you felt like you were losing your mind. 

“Stevie…” You struggled to hold back your moans. 

Steve took one look at you and he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You never could last long under his touch anyways. But he was always more than happy to pleasure his Princess. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, Princess? You can’t hold back from cumming all over my tongue, can you baby?” 

His husky voice made your body throb even more, along with his warm breath fanning your damp skin. You whined in response, dropping down on the bed - your upper body having no strength to hold you up any longer. Steve chuckled. 

“It’s okay, Princess. Cum for me.” He whispered and placed his mouth back on your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of your relentlessly. He noticed the way your legs were shaking slightly. You couldn’t hold the pressure in between your legs anymore so you let go and came violently around his fingers and mouth. 

You moaned out loud, squirming as you came, and Steve lapped up everything you had to offer. He licked each and every drop of your cum as it spilled out of you before kissing his way up your body again. He reached your lips and kissed you deeply. 

You giggled into the kiss. It made Steve smile, he always found it adorable how you were always so giggly after he made you cum. 

Steve pulled away after a while, looking down at your swollen lips and the shine in your eyes. “Want me to order your favorites for your special day? Strawberry and chocolate donuts?” He asked. Those damn donuts were your kryptonite. He often wondered if you loved them more than you loved him. 

You gave it a thought. “Nope.” 

Your answer worried him. And he opened his mouth to ask you why but you spoke up before he could. “Let’s make some cupcakes instead. With strawberry and chocolate icing.” You had missed him so much and you desperately wanted to spend time with him, and what was better than baking together in the kitchen? 

Steve smiled, almost reading your mind. He knew exactly why you had proposed so. He felt a little guilty but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Then he remembered… 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Princess,” it sounded like a warning. “You remember what happened the last time we tried to bake something, right?” His voice sent shivers dancing down your back. 

Of course you remembered. It involved a lot of kisses, chocolate ganache and eventually ended with Steve fucking you right there on the kitchen floor. Your face felt really as that memory resurfaced in your head. 

You nodded. “I promise that won’t happen again, Stevie.” You were the one to blame for that, since it was you who kept teasing him in the first place. 

He hummed in your ear, the sound making your body throb again. “We’ll see about that.” He pulled away and stared down at you. “Okay, come on. Let’s go make some cupcakes for my Princess.” 

You jumped out of bed the moment he got off you. He pulled you close again, buttoning your dress for you while you looked up at him like he hung the moon. 

By the time you made it to the kitchen, Steve had already removed his suit jacket and tie. The black button down shirt was doing things to you but he didn’t need to know that yet. It should be illegal for a man to look that good. While you took out all the appliances and utensils you needed for the cupcakes and icing, Steve’s phone vibrated on the counter. 

He grabbed his phone and took a look at who the caller was. You noticed the frown on his face. 

“Who is it Stevie? Is it work?” 

The discontent in your tone didn’t go by unnoticed. But this phone call had to be dealt with. “No, Princess.” Steve stepped closer and kissed your forehead. “It’s… an old friend. I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?” He kissed your lips briefly and left the kitchen. 

You pouted for a moment but then shook it off. 

Steve went as far away from the open kitchen as he could, just to get out of your hearing range. He had to cross the entire living room to answer the call. Bitterly. 

“What?” He spat at the caller. And he was immediately greeted by a sobbing woman. 

“Just let me talk to her, at least please. She’s my-,” 

Steve cut the crying woman off, like he always did. “She’s your nothing! Nothing, you hear me? She’s mine. Only mine. It’s not my fault you’re a terrible mother who doesn’t care about her daughter’s well-being.” 

He heard more sobbing on the phone. “I didn’t do anything, I just-,” 

He cut her off once again. “Stop lying! You tried to take her away from me!” 

The woman raised her voice. “Because I realized that you’re crazy! I regret the day I met you, the day I let you in my life, in her life. You were a big mistake, and now you won’t even let me talk to my daughter?!” Her anger could be heard despite the tears. “You won’t even let me come home, I can’t even step out of this damn place because your men are everywhere!” 

Steve chuckled. Your mother was abroad, not allowed to come anywhere close to you because… because he didn’t like the thought of having to share your love or attention. You were his. You had him, you didn’t need anyone else. 

“You’re in a luxurious house, with everything one can ever need in it. What are you complaining about? You could’ve been dead, you know? I could have had you killed instead if I wanted to, but I didn’t. You should thank me for that.” 

He received a series of swear words as a reply, which only made him smirk wider. 

“It’s her birthday, Steve. Let me talk to her. I won’t tell her anything about this, please.” The woman begged. 

Steve scoffed. “She doesn’t need you. She has me. Now, don’t ever call here again or I’ll make sure you don’t live to see another day.” He ended the call right in the woman’s face. He carelessly tossed his phone on one of the couches as he walked back into the kitchen. 

You were taking out all the ingredients, weighing them on the scale carefully. You had somehow managed to get some flour on your cheek in the process. Steve smiled, his heart melting at the sight of you. So precious, all his. 

He walked over to where you stood and wrapped his arms around your waist, lowering his head to kiss your exposed shoulder. “Hi Princess.” He murmured, softly. 

You smiled. “Hi.” 

“I love you more than anything, Princess. You know that, right?” He placed another kiss on your skin. 

You turned your head to the side a little, smiling, “I know, you tell me everyday. I love you too, Stevie.” 

-

Midway through, while your cupcakes were in the oven and Steve was getting the icing ready, he noticed a slight frown on your face as you sat on the counter not far from him. 

“What is it, Princess?” He placed the bowl down and stared at you, giving you his undivided attention as always. 

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, “Oh, nothing.” You lied. And he caught it immediately. You were never a good liar. 

Steve walked over to you, stepping in between your legs and placing his hands on your thighs, caressing your skin gently. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” 

You looked down at your lap, his hands inching higher and higher up your thigh. You wondered if you should bring it up, because it always upset him. But before you could stop yourself, you were blurting out the words, “I was wondering why my mom didn’t call me today. She did last year. You think she forgot my birthday?” 

Steve was upset for a moment, before being clouded by jealousy and possessiveness. He tried smiling to hide it. “You don’t need her. If she cared, she’d be here right now. Don’t you agree, Princess?” 

You nodded, lowering your eyes, but Steve could tell you didn’t agree. 

“Princess, look at me.” He spoke, you looked up. “You don’t need anyone. You have me, right?” 

You nodded again, more firmly. “I know, Stevie but-,” 

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Steve slid his hand into your hair and tugged on it gently to make sure he had your attention. “Because what, huh? Is my love not enough for you? Am I not enough?” His tone was gentle but bitter. His eyes were glossier than before. Anger, jealousy, it all ate him up on the inside. 

You stared into his eyes, your own watering a little. Oh no, you didn’t want to upset him. “You’re my everything, Stevie.” 

Those words shook his entire being, and he released your hair immediately. He looked down for a moment, sighing loudly. He placed his hands on either side of you on the counter, pressing his forehead to your chest. “You’re mine, Princess.” He whispered as your fingers slid into his hair, massaging his scalp to calm him down. It was working. “You’re mine and you don’t need anyone else.” He whispered. “We don’t need anyone.” 

You spoke up immediately, “I know. I don’t need anyone. I have you.” You felt him kiss his way up your neck soon after. 

“But you’re still thinking about your mother, are you not?” He sounded bitter. “She doesn’t care about you, Princess. She never has, neither did your father. They never cared or loved you like I do.” He said softly, but his jealousy was hard to ignore. 

“I know, Stevie.” 

You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was in a bad mood. He eventually said so himself, “You upset me, Princess.” He murmured then resumed kissing your skin. “I do all this for you, buy you what you want, do everything to keep you happy but it seems I’m not enough.” He whispered against your skin and you shivered at his tone. 

“No Stevie, that’s not-,” 

He shut you up by placing his mouth on yours. He kissed you with all he had in him, pouring out all his emotions - the good and the bad. His hands gripped your hips as he kissed you hard and fiercely, not caring that he was biting your lips carelessly. 

You couldn’t help but gasp into the kiss when he swiftly slid you off the counter and set you down on your feet. Steve pulled away and stared into your eyes with love and anger. “I’m all you need, Princess. Why can’t you just accept that?” 

Before you could say something, he turned you around so your front pressed against the edge of the counter and your back to his torso. You gripped the counter as he grabbed your dress on either side and pulled it up until it bunched around your waist. You felt his mouth at the side of your neck; licking and biting and kissing - making your heart race and that intensified when you heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

“I’m gonna show you that I’m enough.” He whispered into your ear. “That I’m all you need, because no one is going to love you as much as I do, Princess.” The sincerity and certainly in his voice sent tingles down your spine. 

You felt him lower your underwear until it reached your ankles. Your heart fluttered and raced all at the same time. You could feel him, pressing against you. His hands on either side of your waist as you pressed the palms of your hands against the cold counter. 

You waited for a moment. Then you felt the tip of his cock press against your folds, slowly rubbing up and down; parting the lips at your entrance. “You’re all mine, Princess.” Steve moaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you.

Your grip on the counter grew tighter as you steadied yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming sooner than you thought. Steadily, Steve filled you up; stretching you all the way like he always did. And he had you whimpering in no time. 

“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was foggy as he started rocking into you. Slowly at first, then gradually building up his pace. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.” 

You felt all of him. Each time he filled you up entirely, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot, and you moaned out loud each time; your walls clenching around him. 

“I’m yours…” you whispered. Your mind was hazy, by him slamming into you. His thrust was animalistic, and rough. Each time he slammed into you, your front crashed against the counter, achingly. But the pleasure his body brought you made up for that.

“Louder.” He growled. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it; tipping your head back. “I said louder, Princess.” His voice sounded menacing. 

You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours, Stevie” You said, louder like he wanted. 

The sounds of your skin slapping against one another was downright obscene, and the grunts leaving his mouth was even more sinful. You couldn’t see him, yet you knew he looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, eyes closed, his lips parted as occasional groans escaped his lips. You could imagine him with the frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you. 

“You better remember that, Princess.” He growled into your ear. “You are mine. I love you, and I am the only one you’re allowed to love back. You hear me?” 

You nodded, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. 

And when your walls clenched violently around him, Steve knew you were close as well.

“You’re gonna cum for me, Princess?” he cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. Seeing you didn’t reply, he tugged on your hair and tilted your head back a little more. He leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did. 

“Cum for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonizingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him; you came, hard.

He did too. With a few strokes against your walls, he came right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, leaving behind his presence as your body shook against the counter.

Carefully, he pulled out. And smiled, satisfied, as he watched how his cum trickled out of you and past your folds. He adjusted his pants and zipped it up. He pulled your underwear up, then finally fixed your dress. 

He leaned in to kiss your cheek. Your back was still against his torso, and his arms were around you. Unable to trust your own body, your hands gripped the counter still. He nuzzled your neck, kissed your skin and moved his lips to your ear. 

“Now tell me, Princess, do you need anyone else? Anyone at all?” He mumbled. 

You shook your head, still hazy. “No, Stevie. You’re all I need. You’re my everything.” You replied, repeating the same words he constantly told you. “I love you.” 

Steve smiled against your skin. “I love you more, Princess.” He added, “Perhaps a little too much.” He meant what he said. 

He didn’t care how many times he’d have to remind you. He would do it as many times as it took, all for you to realize that you belonged to him. There was no one else. No other love, no one else to turn to, nowhere to run. Just him. 

“Now come on, we have cupcakes to ice.” He kissed your cheek before pulling your trembling body away from the counter. 

You smiled up at him. Your Stevie… How could you ever bother about whether anyone else remembered your birthday or not? Stevie was here for you, and he was all you ever needed. He was your everything. You loved him. Only him. 

[m-jelly]

He pulled back from your lips and smiled at you chasing his lips. He twirled you around taking you by surprise and cause you to giggle. “You are my gift for all the things I’ve done. All the pain I’ve been through. You are the most precious gift I could ever get. I know it’s taking me time to share what’s inside me, but I will. I want you to know every inch of me.” He smiled as you grinned. “Not that part, you know that well.” He sighed and slow danced with you. “I don’t mean for it to be this way, but I’m getting better.”

-------

“I know, love,” you whispered, burying your face into his neck. “You work so hard. And I know it isn’t easy. Just know that I’m proud of you for every step you take. And I’m proud to be your wife.”

You and Levi spent lost minutes rocking gently through the living room as you hummed a song you’d long since forgotten the words to. Levi felt himself sinking deeper into the comfort of your body, letting your smell and the feeling of your skin anchor him to the moment. It felt like heaven, right up until his knee gave out.

“Shit,” Levi hissed as he felt the pain spiraling through his leg.

You leaned and caught him before he could fall. Wrapping an arm around his waist, you led him over to a chair near the fireplace and place an ottoman beneath his calf, suspending his leg above the floor.

“That’s enough dancing for you, mister,” you teased, placing a soft kiss to his temple. “I’m going to go get your cream.”

Levi watched you hurry off to the bedroom and grit his teeth as he rubbed his knee. When you returned, bottle in hand, kneeling in front of him, he could hardly meet your eyes.

“I’m going to roll up your pant leg, love,” you said as you started to gently pull the fabric up.

“Sorry,” Levi mumbled.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said, gently placing a kiss on his knee. “I was the one who asked you to dance. I should be the one apologizing.”

Levi sat quietly as you delicately applied cream to his knee and massaged it in. When you finished, you gently rolled the pant leg back down, closed the bottle, and set it on a nearby table.

“I hate this feeling,” Levi whispered. You looked up to him, a troubled expression on your face. You opened your mouth to speak but he continued, balling up his fists. “I can hardly walk, I’m still having a hard time seeing with just the one eye. I can’t help out around the house as much as I want… I hate feeling like I’m always dragging you down.”

You pulled yourself up and sat down in Levi’s lap, leaning his head into your chest so that his ear was pressed to your heart.

“Oh, my love,” you murmured. “You don’t drag me down. We lift each other up by being here for each other.”

Part 1 with lovely Andrea

He placed his hand on the inside of your thigh and squeezed. "Do you not think sometimes you'd prefer the old me? The man I was before I fell apart."

You sighed. "The man I love is right here with me." You lifted your head and locked eyes with him. "Bodies change with time, my love. I will get old, saggy and wrinkly."

"You'll be beautiful."

You slapped your hands on his cheeks making his mouth pout. You smiled softly at him. "I don't any other man. I want you and I've always wanted you. I'm not some selfish woman who would leave a man because of a few scars. When I look at you I am just consumed with happiness, adoration, hope and love."

He smiled as his heart skipped a beat. He knew he was damn lucky to have you in his life. You were a blessing to him and if he didn't love you and be with you, some other man would as snagged you. Levi acted first when it came to dating you. He saw other guys going for you and knew he had to make his move.

"You really don't mind the scars?"

You ran your thumb over the long scar on his face. "I think you take on a whole different kind of sexy with it. There is nothing you can do that will not make you sexy."

"Taking a shit."

You burst out laughing at your husband's silly joke. "Levi."

He gave you a playful smile, something he only ever gave you. "So, the scar is sexy."

You nodded. "It's also a little guide, almost like a colouring book."

He frowned at not knowing where you were going with this. "A guide?"

You nodded. "Were to kiss. It goes down from your eye all the way to your lips. I'll show you. Close your eye."

Levi closed his right eye for you. He hummed and smiled as he felt delicate kiss after delicate kiss follow the longest scar to his lips. He leaned into the kiss and moaned a little at you as he felt a warmth rush through him.

You pulled back and smiled. "You know what you need?"

"What?"

You jumped off his lap. "Another hot cup of tea and kisses from your wife."

He reached over and held your hand. "That would be lovely."

You slipped into the kitchen and made Levi and earl grey tea. You returned to him and handed him his drink. You sat on his lap and snuggled up. You kissed his cheek over and over allowing your husband to relax once again.

[eepy-pleepy]

It’s Not Everest (No Vacancy)

The neon “NO” is hidden behind an overgrown shrub, so Dean pulls the Impala into the motel parking lot before they can see that it is, in fact, lit.

“Awesome.” Dean says in a tone that clearly doesn’t think so, and whips the car around to pull back onto the dark road. They immediately hit a pothole and Sam’s head bumps the ceiling.

“Ow, wait, Dean, we didn't go check with the office, maybe they just left the sign lit because they can’t freaking see it–”

“No, Sam, every goddamn motel in this godless town is full up and I don’t particularly feel like walking into another musty fucking office just to have them tell me I need to learn how to read. It’s too damn late, I’m too damn tired, I’m just gonna find a pull-off where the cops won’t feel the need to be our 5AM wake-up call and we’re sleeping in Baby. Fuck it.” He emphasizes the last sentence by throwing the car into park, all seventeen feet of shiny black metal successfully hidden behind a bank of tall, scraggly shrubs off the shoulder of the road. Dean kills the engine and the early summer evening rises to fill the silence with the musical stylings of several hundred crickets.

“Dean.”

“We’ve done it before, Sam.”

“I know we have. What about Cas?”

Dean looks over at the passenger’s side. Sitting shotgun, Cas looks back at him, his eyes just a dark glint in the moonlight.

“I can just... keep watch outside.” He says.

“Bad fucking idea.” Dean snaps. “I wake up in the middle of the night and see you out there lurking, I might shoot you between the eyes. You’re staying in the damn car.”

“Dean, there’s not enough roo–”

“Look, Sammy, passing out is passing out, sitting or lying down. This is a molehill, not Everest. I just need my four hours, damn.”

Dean crams up against the driver’s side door, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his bent knees against the back of the seat between himself and Cas. He’ll worry about bootprints on the leather upholstery when he isn’t so fucking exhausted.

“Jerk.” Sam mutters from the backseat, almost inaudible.

“Goodnight, bitch.”

“Goodnight, Dean. Sam.” Cas murmurs.

“Don’t make it weird, Cas.”

"Goodnight, Cas."

"Thank you, Sam."

Dean gives a little huff through his nose. Cas folds his hands in his lap and turns his head forward to watch the fireflies.

Dean doesn’t like it when Cas watches him sleep. Cas knows this.

But if he doesn't want eyes on him, he shouldn’t be drawing so much attention to himself. This is the fourth time inside of an hour that he’s shifted around, clearly uncomfortable with his sleeping arrangement, six feet of full-grown man trying to figure out how to make three feet work for him.

It's clearly not working out.

Dean's head has fallen against Castiel’s arm. He’s snoring gently, Cas can feel his breath warm through the sleeve of his trench coat.

He shuts his eyes. Pulls his focus down to just this, the upper lefthand side of his body. Feels the weight of Dean's head, the unyielding shape of his skull, the softness of his cheek. Cas turns his head towards him, just to better assess the situation. Not at all to feel the soft tickle of Dean’s hair against his nose and lips. That’s just an... accidental consequence.

Cas feels too big for his own skin. It’s something a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent should be entirely familiar with, but this isn't the feeling of cramming a Chrysler building into a 5-foot-11-inch frame.

This is bigger than that.

The slump of Dean’s body across the seat means that his head is the only thing supported, and it has his neck at a bad angle. If Dean's an angry sleeper, he's even worse with a crick in his neck and Cas doesn't love the idea of being stuck in a car with that tomorrow. He can't pull Dean more flush against his side without the risk of waking him and sending him into a conniption of bruised heterosexuality, so instead, he carefully lifts his arm. It works perfectly: Dean slides forward, falling to lying down with his head in Cas' lap.

The effect is immediate. The uncomfortable pinch between Dean's brows smooths away and he takes a deep, slow breath, settling against his new pillow and sinking into an easier sleep.

Cas hasn't realized he's smiling, yet. It's a tiny, soft thing, the one he gets when he's looking at something precious.

He is.

The moonlight catches the sweep of Dean's eyelashes, the top of his cheek, the shell of his ear, gilding them silver. His lips are parted, plush and dark in the contrast of the pale light. He's slightly curled up on the bench seat and Cas knows it's to fit the small space but that doesn't mean it's not the most fucking endearing thing he's ever seen.

The short hair over Dean's ear is mussed from the way he was slumped like a grumpy turtle past the collars of his shirt and jacket. Delicate, Cas brushes it right again.

Dean shifts, pressing up into his ghost of a touch. Cas draws back, afraid he's been caught doing something definitely not on Dean's approved list of Things Just Friends Do, but Dean doesn't wake. Cas' hand hovers.

He shouldn't. He should return to looking out of the front windshield and prepare the diffusion for when Dean wakes up to find himself sleeping in Cas' lap. That's what he should do.

The trouble is, nothing short of a fucking catastrophe could pull his eyes away from this. Dean is so beautiful, so calm and easy in his slumber, and he's right here, safe and close and warm. Literally right in his lap.

Cas pets Dean's hair, feeling that dangerous constriction again, something so huge and profound it might very well burst him. Dean sleeps on.

"You should tell him."

Sam's voice from the backseat is so quiet it's barely a whisper, but it startles Cas like a gunshot. He turns his head a margin to find Sam watching him, head and shoulders against the back driver's side door, arms crossed over his chest.

"Did you say something?" Cas tries, matching Sam's barely-there whisper.

"You heard me."

"Tell him what?"

"You love him."

Cas turns his head further so he's not just looking at Sam out of his periphery. There's nothing accusatory in Sam's tone, quiet as it is, or in his posture, cramped as it may be. He looks back at Cas with nothing but the same easy camaraderie he's always shown him, like they're discussing a good book or the lovely weather, not a complete paradigm shift.

In his lap, Dean tucks one hand under Cas' thigh and nuzzles his face deeper against the fabric of his pants. Cas looks down at him again and feels ready to explode into several new galaxies.

"I can't." He breathes.

"Why not?"

"You know your brother, Sam.” Cas says, unable to stop himself from stroking light fingers through Dean’s hair again. “And I’m happy. I refuse to risk losing him in pursuit of something I don’t need from him.”

“You’re right, I do know my brother. Probably better than he’d like to believe.” Sam says. “And I think he might surprise you, given the chance.”

Cas looks back at Sam like he wants to argue, but then just closes his mouth, his jaw bunching. Sam gives a little shrug and sits forward, reaching behind himself for the door handle.

“Just some, uh… food for thought.” He says. “I’m gonna hit the head. I’ll take my time. No particular reason.”

“Sam.”

But Sam’s already unfolding out into the night air, the car rocking as his weight shifts. The crickets are suddenly much louder, invading their little bubble of quiet. In Cas’ lap, Dean twitches.

Sam shuts the car door and Dean sits bolt upright. His gun, dropped in the footwell before he fell asleep, is in his grasp in a blink.

“Sam's just gone to relieve his bladder.” Cas says next to him. Dean squints at him and sniffs, wiping at his groggy eyes, then flicks the safety back on. The gun hits the footwell again with a dull thunk.

"God. Like a damn cashew. You'd think with all that height there'd be more... storage."

Cas is carefully looking forward, and not at the red mark on Dean’s cheek that’s the same shape as the warm spot rapidly cooling on his thigh. Dean rubs at that side of his face.

“Was I…?” He clears his throat. “Uh.”

“Asleep? Yes. I thought that was the idea.”

“Lying on you.”

“You needed to stretch out.”

Dean gives a frustrated sigh. “No, Cas, man, that’s your personal space. You should have shoved me off.”

“It was easier on your neck.” Cas says, still looking straight ahead. “You weren’t bothering me.”

“That’s not the point. You gotta have boundaries.”

“What’s mine is yours, Dean. I have no qualms sharing everything I have with you.”

Dean scoffs, leaning forward over the steering wheel and tilting to pop his spine. “Jesus. You ol’ romantic.”

Cas turns his head to look at Dean. The slightly uncomfortable smirk slowly slips off of Dean’s face. His eyes drop to Cas' lips before he catches himself, and he makes a weak attempt to laugh the charge out of the air between them.

“Man, you gotta figure out your levels. Last person who looked at me like that had me thinking marriage."

“Dean, why do you say things like that?”

Dean’s shoulders shove up under his ears. “You turn eyes like that on some innocent girl she’s gonna up and devote her entire life to you, Cas, I’m just letting you know you gotta tone it down!”

“Why would I turn eyes like this on some innocent girl?”

“Because you’re doin’ it to me like you think it’s a normal thing to do!”

“Dean, maybe you need to figure out how to receive a signal without assuming the other person isn't aware of what they're broadcasting." Cas snaps, then subsides as something like fear flickers across his face.

Dean’s jaw hangs uselessly for a stunned moment.

"Cas. You–"

Cas watches him in the manner of a gazelle waiting for a sudden deadly movement. Dean's gaze flits to Cas’ lips again.

"You. Uh." He says eloquently, and his tongue darts out in a nervous motion. This makes his lips impossible to ignore, shiny and wet in the moonlight.

“It's not Everest." Cas whispers.

"It kinda fuckin' is." Dean says, hoarse.

“Forget it. You should go back to sleep.” Cas says, reaching towards Dean with two fingers. It’s his fighter’s instinct that makes Dean grab them before they can touch his forehead, but it’s something else entirely that bunches his other hand in the front of Cas’ coat and yanks him forward. Cas tumbles gracelessly on top of Dean, and Dean doesn’t give either of them time to think.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips, Cas melts. A tiny sound escapes him, not quite a sigh, not quite a moan, and he’s grasping Dean’s shoulder like it’s the only thing preventing him from falling into the footwell. Their mouths part with a soft, wet noise and Cas meets Dean’s eyes, almost too close to focus on.

His arm is pressed across Dean’s chest from his fall. He can feel Dean’s heartbeat, galloping like an outlaw with the sheriff on his tail, and he understands the feeling.

“Dean.” He croaks.

“Yeah.”

“Do that again.”

Dean nuzzles their noses together, nudges Cas’ mouth in a barely-there brush of lips. Cas touches Dean’s face, dizzy with it, feeling stubble rough on the skin of Dean's jaw. He presses forward, holding Dean’s face like the beloved thing it is, and kisses him reverently. Dean sinks against the door until he’s lying across the seats and shoves his arms up under Cas’ suit jacket, encircling his back.

The crickets play them a love song. It’s entirely lost on them.

When Sam returns, approaching the Impala with caution, he finds his brother asleep with his angel hugged against him like a large, man-shaped teddy bear. Cas glances up, clocking the motion of Sam leaning over to peer through the driver’s window, and there’s a smile on his face that Sam’s never seen on him before.

If happy was what he had been, then this? This is pure, unfiltered bliss.

Sam slides carefully into the back seat and shuts the door as gently as he can.

“I’ll save my I Told You So, but only because you look so cute.” He whispers.

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

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