#I regret everything I said to him but I’m aware that I can’t take any of that back

[rainy-dayzzzz]

Guys what if I got back into yttd again

[dimplyowl]

😩 one of the main things I see about Izzy and why he’s an innocent little lamb who has done nothing wrong is that he’s got a lot of internalized homophobia going on, as well as issues with toxic masculinity. And yeah, OFMD is all about taking those toxic societal expectations and telling them to shove themselves up their asses. And I think having a character who has those internalized feelings and who holds onto them until being proven that they’re wrong is an interesting character arc. Growth is a great thing! We love to see it!

The problem comes when people use those characteristics as excuses for any of izzys bad behaviors, as if they give him a free pass to do whatever he wants to do. But that’s not how these things work. The problem I have with Izzy’s character arc in s2 is that he doesn’t do anything to make reparations until his deathbed apology to Ed. He just kind of…continues to be there, ignoring Ed, letting the crew extend kindness to him and still not really engaging until Calypso’s Birthday.

You know who has done some really shitty things and does actually work toward making reparations? Ed. And that’s another thing I see a lot of Izzy fans say: that gb people give Ed a free pass for everything he did because of his childhood and his trauma and his self hatred and broken heart. But babes, when we talk about these issues, you’re misunderstanding why we’re talking about them. I obviously can’t speak for all Ed fans, but the majority of us aren’t listing these issues as excuses, we’re naming them as reasons for his behavior. So we can understand why he feels the way he feels and did the things he did.

I am fully aware that he did some really shitty things to people who care about him and who he cares about. I acknowledge that. I also know why he did them. And knowing why doesn’t make it okay. It helps me understand him more, and to know that he wasn’t doing them because he enjoyed them and, most importantly, that they’re things he regrets doing. That’s obvious throughout the entirety of eps4-6, in his hesitance to return to the ship, in agreeing to wear a burlap sack and allowing Lucius to push him over the ship, in taking time to actually listen to fang about his own experiences during the kraken era. It’s part of the entire reason they have a party, it’s part of turning poison into positivity. Ed doesn’t have great apology skills. His “apology” speech was definitely lacking as far as our modern standards are concerned. That’s fine. Those aren’t natural skills to have, they’re learned, and he never really had the opportunity to learn them. But you can see that he wants to, and he’s trying and he’s learning, and that’s the most important thing.

Izzy doesn’t do that shit. In season 1 he uses his position of power to bully the crew, to go against Ed’s orders (his captains orders; that’s essentially mutiny right there); he loses and turns his captain and a ship full of queer and poc to the cops; he then becomes captain and it takes less than a day for the crew to mutiny on him because he’s a fucking asshole and no one wants to work for him; and to top it all off, he tells his boss—his friend, supposedly, his depressed and already established to be suicidal friend—that he would be better off dead than be like he is.

Where are his attempts at reparation? Where does he turn around and say “yeah calling the cops on you was fucking horrible and I shouldn’t have done it” or “I shouldn’t have said those things when you were already struggling” or “I’m sorry for taking advantage of my power and using it to bully and abuse my employees and another captain’s crew.”? He doesn’t do any of that. He doesn’t even try.

Internalized homophobia doesn’t make intimidating your gay subordinate or calling your friend a “namby pamby in a silk dressing gown” okay. Toxic masculinity doesn’t make repeatedly insulting someone for having traditionally feminine traits and interests okay. Doing those kinds of things can never be okay. But recognizing these as faults and actively working to improve yourself and grow and apologize to the people you’ve hurt and try to make things better does make it more likely for the people who care about you to forgive you.

[fandomfablesunleashed]

Quarrel

Ace x reader (she/her)

Chapter 16 of And they were roommates - Modern AU series

warning: alcohol consumption, swearing, arguing

I struggled with this chapter the most. I rewrote it so many times, and I’m still not really happy with it, but honestly, I don’t think I ever will. So, I’m just going to post it, so you won’t have to wait any longer. I’m not really someone who argues a lot, and I definitely prefer to write fluff, but well—it is what it is. 🤷

🫶@captainportgasdace 🫶

The party finally wound down, the buzz of laughter and music fading as your group of friends trickled out of the venue. The night, meant to be full of carefree fun, left you feeling heavier with every step. As you approached your apartment building, you and Ace fell into an uncomfortable silence. The weight of everything unspoken between you both pressed down, suffocating and unrelenting.

You became so acutely aware of Ace’s presence beside you that it felt almost unbearable. His footsteps were too close, echoing yours in a way that should have been comforting but wasn’t. His body language was tense, withdrawn. Every time your hands brushed, the spark of contact felt electric and wrong, like an overwhelming surge—too intense to handle. The almost-kisses—those moments you both pretended didn’t happen—lingered in the air. Neither of you dared to say anything, as if acknowledging what almost transpired would make it too real. It felt like there was an invisible wall between you now, one you could feel with every strained step.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. The frustration bubbled up from deep inside, sharp and unrelenting, until it erupted, spilling out before you could stop it. “Why are you being so quiet?” you snapped, your voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. The words came out harder than you had meant—raw and biting. The harshness of your tone caught you off guard, but it was too late to take them back. The tension that had been building inside you for what felt like hours, days, or even months, had finally found its voice.

Ace’s steps faltered, his body stiffening in response to the sudden shift. He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing, his expression stiffening in a way you hadn’t seen before. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m tired, and I want to go to bed,” he muttered, his voice clipped, defensive. He wasn’t looking at you now, but you could feel the weight of his bitterness hanging in the air. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides, and yet there was something more—something buried that you couldn’t ignore.

You stopped in your tracks, the frustration boiling over. You couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Don’t give me that crap,” you snapped, your arms folding tightly across your chest, as if to protect yourself from whatever this was. “You’ve been acting weird all night. What’s going on, Ace?”

You wondered if he would be brave enough to mention another near kiss. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to. Part of you longed for him to admit it, to tell you that you weren’t imagining things. But at the same time, you were scared that you were just pushing things forward—that you were the only one who wished for more.

For a moment, Ace just stood there, silent. His eyes flickered briefly, and for the briefest of moments, you thought you saw something—regret, anger, pain—but it was gone so quickly that you could’ve sworn it was just your delusion. He shook his head and let out a humorless laugh, a sound that didn’t even reach his eyes. “I’m not acting weird,” he said flatly, his voice thin and forced. He seemed to be convincing himself as much as he was convincing you. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, please,” you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You can’t even look at me now. Something’s clearly bothering you, and you’re too much of a coward to admit it.” The moment the words left your mouth, you knew you had crossed a line, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The silence between you had grown unbearable, suffocating, and you needed him to speak—anything—to break the tension. You missed those days when he’d first moved in, when things were easy, pleasant, and most of the time he wore that stupid grin on his face—not whatever expression he had now.

Your hand brushed against the door handle, and you jerked it open with more force than necessary, the sound of it echoing in the hallway. You stepped inside, but as soon as you crossed the threshold, the apartment—your safe space—felt foreign. The familiar walls, the quiet comfort you once found here, now felt heavy, charged with the tension that followed you both.

Ace's footsteps were heavy and almost too close, quick and deliberate as he followed. You could hear the quick intake of his breath, and with a sharp exhale, he slammed the door behind him, the sound rattling the walls.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” Ace’s voice rose, louder than you had expected. The suddenness of it made you flinch. “I’m just tired, okay? Why does everything always have to be about you?”

His words hit you like a slap in the face, stinging more than they should. You felt your heart lurch in your chest, the burning sensation of something deeper than annoyance gnawing at you. It felt like rejection—like your presence, your concerns, didn’t matter. The hurt flashed through you before the anger took over.

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a rush, your fists clenching at your sides, desperate for some sense of control. “I didn’t realize I was the cause of all your problems. Is that it?” The words left your mouth before you could fully process them, the bitterness laced with more emotion than you intended. You stood there, trembling slightly.

“You’re damn right, you’re the fucking problem!” The words exploded from him, raw and bitter, and you could see it—the regret, too late to stop what had been said, too late to take it back.

You felt your chest tighten as his words crashed over you, each one a wound deeper than the last. You wanted to scream, to throw everything back at him, but it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat, held by the weight of everything you hadn’t said—everything you had been too afraid to admit. The anger and pain built up, rushing through you until it felt like you might explode. And you did.

Your pulse quickened, and suddenly, you couldn’t keep the words in anymore. The frustration, the hurt, the months of whatever this had been between you—it all came flooding out at once. “Well, you’re my fucking problem too!” You felt your pulse quicken as the argument escalated, both of you moving closer in your heated state, words flying faster than you could process. The space between you shrank, and everything around you seemed to fade except the furious energy swirling between you both. There was no stopping it now. It felt like both of you were too far gone, too caught up in the emotion, the heat of the moment, to pull back.

You wanted to scream, to shout everything you’d been holding in, to demand answers about his feelings, to ask why he’d been shutting you out. You wanted to tell him how much it hurt, how much you cared, and how you needed him to admit what had been going on between you both. But the anger was too loud now, drowning out everything else.

But then, just as things were about to tip over the edge, something shifted inside you—a sudden awareness, a clarity that cut through the fog of anger. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t Ace. This wasn’t what you wanted. You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to take a step back, trying to breathe through the tightening in your chest.

“We’re both drunk,” you said finally, the words coming out in a slow, controlled breath. “We’re not making any sense right now.”

His eyes flickered with something uncertain, as if he, too, had just realized how far things had gone. He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his face in a way that made you feel like you’d just both woken up from some kind of haze. “Yeah,” he muttered quietly, his voice soft now, subdued. “You’re right. We’re not thinking clearly.”

The heat of the argument didn’t vanish immediately, but the intensity began to fade. You both stood there, breathing heavily, still reeling from the chaos of the last few minutes. Neither of you spoke at first, the silence now different—not suffocating, but laden with something softer, more resigned.

“I didn’t mean to say those things,” Ace said finally, his voice barely above a whisper, the rawness of the argument still hanging in the air between you both. “I don’t know why I got so worked up…” His voice trailed off, like he wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.

You shook your head, softening, but your frustration still simmered beneath the surface. “It’s fine,” you replied, sighing. “I didn’t mean to snap either. I guess we both just… had too much to drink.”

Ace nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground, a faint flush still coloring his cheeks. “Yeah,” he murmured, almost too quietly. “We definitely did, and, um, we should probably just… go to bed. Forget this whole thing happened.”

Both of you fell silent as you made your way into your respective rooms. But despite the agreement to forget about the argument, the tension and unresolved feelings lingered in the air. Neither of you was quite able to forget the heated words that had been spoken—or the near-kiss. The night ended, but the emotions, raw and tangled, would be harder to shake. And neither of you was sure where to go from here.

Next chapter

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 25: A House Is Not A Home (And A Dinner Is Not A Date)

Prompt: "It consumes me"

For the anon who sent this: Can you write a fic where an IT billionaire falls in love with Scully and pursues her, while Mulder gets very jealous - oh, and they're already dating, but still in secret. Rating: T, wc: 1,713

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Over the past few years, he’s learned many things in therapy. One thing is to be honest with his emotions and not bottle them up and send them out into the world as a joke.

Right now, it proves to be difficult. How is he supposed to stay serious and true to his emotions when this 30-something guy with the whitest teeth Mulder has ever seen, is hitting on Scully?

“This was one of my prototypes,” the young man explains. Mulder knows he has a name. It’s Chad or something similar. Mulder doubts that Chad-or-whatever has caught his name, seeing how he only has eyes for Scully.

“Staying in this house was an experience.” Mulder glances over at Scully. Why is she indulging Chad-or-whatever? She’s smiling at the younger man. Oh. Oh, no. This man-child could be their son. Well, not quiet. Almost.

He’s seen Scully flirt plenty of times over the last 25 years – sometimes successfully and sometimes less so. Hell, he’s helped her out once. Too bad that the guy turned out to be a vampire. A fact Scully does not like to be reminded of.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” Chad-or-whatever explains. “Let me make it up to you. I have another unit. Bigger, better, brighter. It’s yours. Rent-free for the rest of the year, of course.”

“It’s fine, Mr.-”

“Chad. Please call me Chad.” His grin is so blinding that Mulder has to look away.

“It’s fine, Chad. I do have a place to stay.” He wants to shove it in Chad’s face that Scully is staying with him. In their house. They’re sharing a bed. Something this guy can only dream about. The way he’s looking at Scully, he’s doing exactly that right this second.

“Then you must let me take you to dinner,” Chad insists, taking Scully’s hands into his. Mulder searches Scully’s face for discomfort, but can’t find any. He’s expecting her to politely decline any moment now. He’s waiting, and waiting, and waiting. It takes her a good ten seconds to answer – one second longer and Mulder would have done it for her.

“I’d like that, Chad.”

“You won’t regret it,” the younger man says, and Mulder stares at him with narrow eyes. “I’ll text you later. I have your number.” How much can a grown man grin? Mulder balls his fists, knowing he can neither say nor do anything. It’s not his place.

“Looking forward to it,” Scully says much to Mulder’s horror and Chad winks at her before he jogs off.

“Looking forward to it?” Mulder repeats, leaning his face close to hers, wondering what he’s missed.

“He’s sweet.”

“Sweet.”

“Are you parroting everything I say now? Yes, he’s sweet. It’s just dinner, Mulder. He’s sorry my house burned down.”

“Um, no, Scully. It’s not just dinner. That guy was hitting on you.”

“I could be his mother, Mulder. He wasn’t hitting on me.” But he sees doubt creep into her expression. “Was he?” Mulder nods at her. They went through this last year with Tad. Except back then, she was aware of what Tad was doing. And back then, she hadn’t been entirely uninterested. She admitted as much to him one night, not too long ago.

It was right after her house blew up and she moved back into their home. She said that she couldn’t in all honesty start being with Mulder again if she wasn’t honest. So she confessed about Tad. Mulder, on the other hand, had nothing to confess. No other women whatsoever. He had tried to hit the apps once and given up. It was Scully or nothing for him.

“It’s just dinner,” she says, shaking her head. “Mulder, he’s rich. He made a fortune with these smart homes. He just wants to make sure I won’t badmouth them.”

“So you’re going on a date with him?”

“It’s dinner,” she reminds him.

“Dinner, date, whatever. You’re going.”

“Yes, I’m going. You're not jealous, are you?"

"Me?" he asks in mock surprise, pointing at his chest. "Why would I be jealous if it's just dinner?"

But of course, he's lying.

*

She can’t believe Mulder was right. She and Chad are at an upscale restaurant where a meal costs as much as her monthly rent. He picked her up in a limo and brought her roses. That should have been her first clue. Mulder had looked miserable standing on the porch, watching her leave. As though she wasn’t planning on returning. Now she understands why.

“Dana, I cannot hold it in any longer.” In the dim light, his teeth look comically white, and his eyes are like molten chocolate pools. There are no blemishes on his skin and it hits her how impossibly young he still is. She knows a little bit about him; most importantly, she knows that he’s rich. Really, really rich. A billionaire, if the magazine she read is to be believed. Judging by his clothes, and his attitude, she has no reason to doubt it.

“Hide what?” Her whisper is not deliberate. The restaurant is quiet; a perfect atmosphere for two young lovers making their first moves.

“My feelings for you,” Chad says, smiling. “My love for you. It consumes me.”

“Chad, you don’t even know me.”

“You’re mistaken, Dana. I do know you. The moment I met you, I knew.” His smile is disarming. He isn’t a Philip Padgett, or a Donny Pfaster. He’s just a young, lonely man who’s mistaking his feelings for something they aren’t.

“Chad-”

“You said you’re single.” A mishap of her own making. She and Mulder have been back together for all of three months and she isn’t ready to let anyone else know. She knows that Mulder would like to scream it from the rooftops. He’s been the perfect gentleman, keeping his distance – as much as he can – and pretending to only be her work partner. It has worked so well that she’s ended up on a date with a man almost half her age.

She still can’t believe Mulder was right.

“I’m not… exactly single. It’s just very new and we’re keeping a low profile.” She can see the disappointment on Chad’s face, making him look even younger—almost like a little boy. His hand slips from hers, and he starts fiddling with his napkin instead.

“I should have known,” he says. “A woman like you. It was too good to be true.”

“Chad, there’s someone out there for you.”

“I thought it was you.”

He stares down at his plate and out of the corner of her eye, Scully spots a waitress, watching them closely. The expression on the other woman’s face is oddly familiar to her. Longing. Scully isn’t the first woman Chad has brought here and obviously, none of them have worked out. Maybe, Scully thinks, observing the waitress, he’s looking in all the wrong places.

“Excuse me a moment,” she says to Chad and he nods, not looking up.

“The restroom is this way,” the young waitress informs her when Scully walks toward her.

“I know. That’s not – you probably saw all that, right?”

“I’m not supposed to see things here, Ma’am.”

“I see the way you look at him,” Scully says softly. “I once looked at a man the very same way and I will go home to him now. Why don’t you keep him company?”

“I’m not supposed to… I couldn’t…”

“Sometimes we can bend the rules,” Scully says to her and the younger woman gives her a shy smile. She nods and takes a deep breath before she walks over to the table. Scully watches for a moment and is convinced that she sees a spark in Chad’s eyes. Before the man can spot and miss her, she disappears.

*

Imagining Scully on a date with another man while they were broken up is one thing. Waiting for her to return from a date while they’re living in the same house is torture. It’s shortly before 9 p.m. when he hears the tell-tale sound of the key in the door. His heart is doing somersaults. Returning home early has to be a good sign, right?

“Hey you,” Scully says, throwing her purse into a corner before she plops down next to him on the couch. She smells like roses and vanilla. A primitive part of him is trying to detect a whiff of competition. There is none.

“Hey.” He gives himself 15 seconds. If she doesn’t start talking until then, he’ll ask.

“You’re not going to ask how it was?” She turns to him. She’s gone for minimal make-up today and he spots her freckles peeping through. That alone makes him smile.

“Didn’t want to pressure you. How was it?”

“You were right.”

“Oh, you know what gets me going, Scully. How was I right?”

“Chad. He was hitting on me. He was interested in more than just dinner.”

“And?” He trusts Scully implicitly. There’s no doubt in his mind that she loves him. She wouldn’t have come back if she didn’t. That doesn’t mean he trusts Chad.

“I told him that I’m not available.”

“So Chad’s the first to know about us? Did not see that coming.”

“He said he loves me,” Scully says, shaking her head in disbelief. “He’s only just met me.”

“Hmm, I get it,” Mulder says, nuzzling her neck. He’s not staking his territory, but maybe he is. Just a little bit. “I was infatuated with you right from the start.”

“You were not.”

“Oh, but I was.”

“That’s funny,” she says, kissing him. “Cause I had a crush on you, too.”

“What about now? Do you still have a crush?” Another kiss, this time longer and with more tongue.

“More than a crush,” she murmurs into his mouth, and together they make their way upstairs. In the morning, Mulder will admit that he was jealous. Just a little bit. And Scully will raise her eyebrow, but smile and remind him that he has nothing to worry about. Ever.

That’s confirmed when a month later they get an invitation to Chad’s wedding.

“That guy moves fast,” Mulder says. “I wonder who she is.”

“Oh, I know who she is,” Scully says, grinning triumphantly, recognizing the waitress she saw in the restaurant that night.

[return-to-twisted-wonderland]

🔆anon

Canis wasn’t supposed to be up right now. He was well aware, but his body made sure no doubt would be left. He should be in bed right now because apparently if he’s in the wrong place at the wrong time, he ends up in the middle of an overblot fight.

He just had to make friends with Heartstopper and Bluey over there in Heartslabyul. He just had to listen to them complain about their dorm head. He just had to join them when they went to challenge him “for their safety”.

Does Canis regret what he did? No, not really.

Does it hurt as he bumbles his way to Ramshackle to make sure his other friend Grimstone has food? Absolutely.

He opened the door and it only took one second for the screaming cat appear in front of him, swiping at the bag he brought. “It’s been the whole day! I was starving.” Grim sniffed the air. “And what’s that smell? Smells like you brought something extra good.”

Canis pushed past Grimstone as he tried his best to close the busted door. He went to sit down on the dilapidated couch before taking out some tuna. “Relax. I had a lot happen today. And I just brought you usual stuff.” He opened the can, and was assaulted by the horrid smelling fish. “I still don’t know how you can stand this.”

Grim dumped the can of tuna in his mouth, not even swallowing before he stared talking. “Mu-uph. U gof somfing good. I shmell it.”

“I can’t understand you if you talk and eat.”

Grim gave a hard swallow to everything in his mouth. Canis was genuinely shocked he didn’t choke or something. Then again, is Grimstone even capable of that? “I said you’re lying. Cause I know you got something good. I can smell it.” Without asking for permission, he went to dig through the inside of Canis’s blazer.

“Hey! Stop that! I went through a lot, I’m not in the mood for games, Grimstone.” He pulled out the cat only to notice a black stone in Grim’s paw. Is that what he meant? That was a stone he just picked up after the fight with Red Rose. He thought it was cool and picked it up, but shoved it in his pocket without thinking when someone came over to him. There wasn’t any smell on it though.

“See! I knew you had something!”

“That’s just a rock. Does stone eat stone or something, Grimstone?”

“If it’s just a rock, why does it smell so good? It smells like a bunch of flowers and cakes and stuff.” Grim shoved the stone in his mouth. “Tasts lyk it too.”

“That’s a rock! Spit it out!” Canis tried to pry open Grimstone’s jaws but it didn’t work. The stone ended up swallowed.

“You seriously bought some good candy and wanted to keep it to yourself by calling it a rock?”

“You know what?” Canis took a deep breath. “I’ve had enough today. I’m just going to sit here in silence for a bit. You have the bag of food. It’s got some sandwiches and water and stuff left. Get whatever you want. I’m just going to close my eyes.” He closed his eyes to the sound of Grim shuffling through the bag, and the world started to fade as he drifted off to sleep.

Oh jeez

Grimmy please, stop eating the rocks.

[traineecryptid]

NPSS Weibo Q&A (20240831) Part 5

This is a Q&A session held on Weibo. People will tag their questions with the hashtag #南派三叔藏海花在线答疑# (#NPSS Zang Hai Hua Online Q&A#) and NPSS will look through the tag to pick some to answer. The event started at 1500 hours on 2024 August 31st.

Folder with screenshots and big compilation google doc is here. Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here.

1634

Q: Sanshu! I really need to know this, does Xiaoge shave?

A: Don’t you think it’s a little weird if he doesn’t shave?

1635

Q: Shu, why did writing ZHH affect your mental state like never before? (But this is also the time where everyone thought that your writing was in top condition.)

A: It’s the emotions and scenes. If I can’t write out the scenes, at most I’ll have a headache. But I have to sacrifice myself for the emotions.

1637

Q: Shu! I want to know if Yucun Wu Xie returned to the “Dragon’s Backbone, come quickly” moment in the beginning, what would he do?

A: He has to go. Else, he’ll lose even more.

1638

Q: Can the Scorpion Team be reassembled in the later episodes?

A: Scorpion Team is in the story after this.

1639

Q: Sanshu, will Haixing grow up to become a very powerful adult in the future?

A: She will. But she will also have her own worries.

1643

Q: You seem to understand fengshui very well.

A: I knew how to write it the most when I didn’t understand it. But after understanding it, I dare not write it anymore. I’m afraid that writing it will disturb the dragon’s veins.

1643

Q: Shu, at the moment when Wu Xie knew about Xiaoge’s backstory, if Xiaoge was right in front of him, what would he say to Xiaoge? What would Pangzi say?

A: Buy wine. Wine. Wine. Drink some, drink some. Pangzi, is there food in the fridge? Go take a look.

1647

Q: Is Wu Xie satisfied with his current condition? Does he have any regrets?

A: Do you know that once a person is satisfied with their condition, they would start to be afraid and collapse from the nice things. Little satisfaction is greater than big completion. Never ever live in a condition where you’re satisfied with yourself. Because after that, it’ll be the pain of losing everything.

1650

Q: Shu, Xiaoge had obviously saved them. How did you come up with Zhang Jiuri and Zhang Nian’s turning point where they hate Xiaoge?

A: Keep watching. That’s key.

1658

Q: What do you think about the saying “even if it sucked, at least a Heavenly Palace”? Do you plan on remaking Heavenly Palace?

A: Yes!

1658

Q: Xie Yuchen wanted some shares of the eye disease research. Will Hei Xiazi’s eye disease get better?

A: The more patents he gathers, maybe there will be a chance to get better.

1829

#NPSS Zang Hai Hua Online Q&A# Let me say this to everyone. There are a lot of you who don’t allow comments or only restrict comments to your followers yet you keep @-ing me nonstop. I don’t know what this means. I’m really— I wrote a long reply but then I can’t post it. It’s really maddening.

1831

Q: (T/N: original question was deleted but according to the comments…) Didn’t you say that you’ll keep answering questions? Where did you go? A: I went to take my food delivery.

1840

Q: Last year you said that Wu Xie smelled like peaches. So, what does Menyouping smell like?

A: The scent of distant mountains brought by the wind.

1841

Q: Shu, don’t the Iron Triangle’s Pangzi deserve a trophy for his awareness? Something like “The spiritual middleman who touched everyone’s hearts in the DMBJ universe.

A: Once you understand Pangzi’s importance,  you’ll understand a very important part of this story.

75 questions (or well 75 posts now!) I'm really sleepy today so pardon the mess of the grammar and what not. But I will do a double update today.

[ejzah]

Collateral Damage, Part 2

***

“Kensi’s pregnant?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Oh my god, that’s why she was sick for two weeks.”

A sharp whistle cut through all the chatter and jarred Deeks enough for him to realize Sam was walking towards him, blocking out everything else.

“Everybody shut up for a minute,” Sam said. Gripping Deeks’ shoulder, he dipped his head, giving the illusion that it was just the two of them. Deeks focused on the tight, almost painful pressure of Sam’s fingers. “Deeks, can you hear me?”

Deeks nodded sharply, purposely drawing in a long breath.

“Good. Now are you sure about Kensi being pregnant?”

“Yeah. She’s 13 weeks,” Deeks answered, his chest squeezing so tight he thought he might pass out.

“Hey, steady Deeks, it’s going to ok,” Sam said, centering Deeks with a palm in the center of his chest. Glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the team that Deeks only just now noticed were still watching. “C’mon, let’s go take a breather. You guys get everything together. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Deeks numbly followed Sam to the locker room, barely aware of anything around him. In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to rescue Kensi, but overwhelming panic made focusing on anything impossible. Kensi, their children, could be dead right now.

“Hey, Deeks, breathe!” Sam ordered him as he carefully shoved Deeks down onto a bench.

“I—I can’t,” he stuttered out between ragged breaths that did nothing to stop his fuzzy vision or shaking hands.

“Yes, you can. Focus on me, Deeks.”

Deeks looked into Sam’s eyes, forcing himself to study the way his pupils almost blended into his irises.

“That’s good, Deeks. Now breathe with me.”

After an unknown amount of time, Deeks felt his heart rate start to slow, and the tightness in his chest eased.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m terrified, Sam. I feel like I’m about to lose everything.”

“That’s understandable,” Sam assured him. “This is scary.”

“If anything happens—this pregnancy is everything to both of us, but for Kensi. I don’t know what she would do,” Deeks whispered. “This can’t be happening.”

“We aren’t going to let anything happen to them. In order to do that—and I’m probably going to regret saying this—I need angry Deeks to come out to play. Because as destructive as you can be when you’re angry, you get things done. And Kensi and your baby need you right that from you right now.”

“Twins.”

“What?” Sam asked, thrown off by the single word. At any other time, Deeks would have been pleased to shock Sam Hanna.

“We’re having twins,” Deeks repeated slightly more loudly. He laughed weakly. “Not exactly how we planned on telling everyone.” Tilting his head back, he swallowed against his teeth. “I need them back, Sam.”

“We’re going to do everything in our power to make that happen,” Sam told him. “And you’re going to be right there with us.

***

A/N: I hope this was satisfyingly angsty and emotionally whumpy.

[ghxstlly]

Semicolon

586 words, Attorney AU

TW: Non-violent suicide attempt

Occurs roughly 1 month after Ego Death

—

Ira,

I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. I know you said you wanted me out of your life, so when/if this reaches you and you don’t want to read it, that’s okay.

I’m not exactly sure what’s going to happen after tonight— it’s not something I can plan for, but I think I can safely say that you won’t be hearing from me again. I think that makes this a pretty good time to clear the air.

Meeting you was the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me. 

We were a disaster waiting to happen. I should have known better. I should have listened to my instincts. I don’t know why I didn’t— that wasn’t like me at all. I guess I wanted you bad enough to try and be something I’m not.

I just had no idea it could hurt so bad. It isn’t at all like people say, or how it looks in movies or books. It isn’t beautiful, or sweet. It is raw and ugly and awful, like being eaten from the inside.

Is that how it’s supposed to feel? Or did I do it all wrong? Maybe I was never meant to feel this way about someone. Maybe I'm not strong enough for it. I guess I’ll never know.

But despite all that, something I realized in the time since we last spoke is that I would gladly do it all over again if I could, even knowing how it ends.

I don’t regret knowing you. Not even a little.

You have the most integrity of anyone I've ever met. You’re fierce. You’re brave. You’re everything I’m not.

You deserve to be happy. You deserve someone strong like you, someone you can trust. Someone who won’t let you down. I wish it could have been me.

And even though I know I was stupid for feeling the way I did about you, I think I’d be more stupid not to. I love you, and I miss you, and I hope that someday you might miss me too, even if just a little bit.

I’m aware that sounds kind of pathetic, but I suppose there isn’t any point in being anything other than honest right now.

That’s all. Thank you for being a part of my life.

I’m sorry I had to complicate things.

—Freddie

—

In his trembling hands, a small mound of white pills sat like pearls. He looked at them for a long time, counting them, thinking about nothing.

He brought them to his mouth, paused, wavered, and drew away. 

It’s not going to hurt. There’s nothing to be scared of.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted his eyes.

In front of him, a blanket of sticky notes hid his reflection, crowding the mirror, the bathroom wall, the medicine cabinet, their messages scribbled in shaky blue pen, desperate, fearful.

You'll get through this.

Everything will be okay.

One step at a time.

Though they begged and pleaded, they could not reach him where he was, now, suspended in a moment of eerie calmness, of detachment, and soon the pills were back against his lips, but they would not pass. 

He gagged. He choked. His mouth refused them, again and again and again.

No matter how many times he tried, he could not swallow them. A terrible, frustrated sob tore from his throat, his vision blurring with tears.

He felt his lips moving, saying, I can’t, I can’t, but he couldn’t even hear his own voice.

[the-amber-raven]

Snippet Sunday

It's just past midnight here, so it is technically Sunday... and when I wake up it will be all about NYE and I have no faith that I'll have time to post so doing it before bed! It's been a hell of a crazy and kind of awful few weeks quite frankly, but I'm proud of myself for completing the first chapter of the 6b fic before the end of year.

I haven't done one in a while, so have a slightly longer snippet where Bobby gets some initial inklings that Buck is perhaps more involved in the Diaz family than he realised:

--

“Are you sure you don’t want to make yourself one, Buckaroo? There really is a perfectly good room for you to stay in.” 

“Bobby said he’d make blueberry pancakes for breakfast,” Harry added enthusiastically. “And I’m working on getting him to do his mac and cheese for dinner!” 

“That does sound amazing, but I need to pick Christopher up from his party tonight so I definitely can’t,” Buck said apologetically. He was genuinely regretful, because the idea of waking up to Bobby’s pancakes and then maybe helping him bake mac and cheese while Athena and Harry hovered near them as they caught up and unpacked Harry’s things was a pretty amazing fantasy that he would have enjoyed indulging in. 

“Christopher?” Bobby said sharply, startled and concerned. “Is everything alright with Eddie?” 

“Of course,” Buck replied, mystified as to what had made Bobby jump to that conclusion. “Eddie dropped him off, I just offered to do the pick-up."

"Eddie didn't feel comfortable driving at night...?" Bobby probed, mouth pressed together in worry. There was a brief period, right after his breakdown, where Eddie had avoided driving at night since he was anxious about potentially getting triggered by something so Buck supposed he could understand where Bobby's worry was coming from.

"No, nothing like that. It just didn't seem like there was much point in him going when I was planning to crash at Eddie's anyway."

Bobby didn't look any less concerned, so Buck expanded his explanation.

"I promised Chris that we could plan out our next zoo visit tomorrow. They’re offering koala photos at the moment plus there’s some new baby gibbons so we need to make some sacrifices and adjust our usual schedule.” 

Bobby opened his mouth, probably to ask for more detail because he now looked puzzled. 

However, Harry jumped in first, his eyes wide with wonder. “As in you can take a photo with a koala?”  

“You can take one holding a koala if you want.” Buck pulled out his phone, handing it over to Harry once he found the screenshot that he’d sent to Eddie which explained the experience and showed a sample photo. He angled it so that Bobby could also see the phone, wondering if maybe Bobby hadn’t been aware that the LA zoo had Australian native animals and that was why he was confused? 

--

Hope y'all have a Happy and Safe New Year's Eve! And may the muse be stronger than ever in 2024 ;)

[abbatoirablaze]

Deal With The Devil, Chapter 2

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: slight angst, manipulation, using a sibling as a bartering chip, dubcon engagement

“We’ve got to find a way to make sure Barton, Romanoff, and Belova stay in their place.”

Steve nodded along with everything Sam was saying, “I know…I’ve got something in the works, but I can’t show my hand just yet.  I don’t want them involved in it.  Last thing I need is for any of them to catch wind and try to get the drop on me.”

“Well, what is it?”

 “Something that could really put the odds in our favor, Sam.  It’s why I called Buck earlier and told him to get back here.”

“That meeting was too close for comfort, Steve,” he reminded his long-time friend, and boss, “you saw how they just trounced in like they owned the place.  The three of them joined up and their territory is nearly as big as yours.  I understand that you have Brooklyn, but they have Queens.  Now, I know that to the west of us, Stark has Manhattan, and he’s chummy with Parker, who has the Bronx.  And you know Thor won’t take Romanoff’s side.  He can’t stand her.  But he’s friends with Clint…so who knows…”

“Odinson is too stuck up to side with anyone.  He’ll keep Staten Island to himself.”

“I think our play is getting in with Stark and Parker,” Sam reminded his friend, “they aren’t looking to combine, but they could be allies.  The three of us would be able to keep Barton, Belova, and Romanoff out of the way.”

“The boroughs have their families…no one will combine, Sam…you’re right on that.  None of us are going to be willing to give up our power.  Or our land.  Not when our families have fought so long for it in the first place.”

“We need to meet with them…”

“I’m way ahead of you,” Steve reminded Sam, “Like I said, Wilson.  We have to leave for our meeting in a few minutes.  Buck won’t be back in time.  Leave a note for him about setting up the club for tonight.  We won’t be back before open.  Then have him set up to scope out the three stooges.”

“Got it, boss.”  

Tony scoffed as he looked at Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, “you know…you’re down a man on your entourage, Rogers.  Got a little weakness in your ranks?”

Steve frowned, suddenly regretting letting Bucky have the time to scope out what Barton, Belova, and Romanoff were getting up to in Queens. 

“Recon!” he said simply, not wanting to give Tony too much information about his own operations, but wanting him to know that one of his best friends wasn’t a weak link in his business, “are we going to talk business, or are you going to just keep me standing at your door all day?  I’m a busy man just like you are…but I made time to come to you, Stark.”

Tony smiled suddenly, gesturing for Steve and Sam to come in and sit in his boardroom, “I was wondering when you’d come by, Rogers.  Belova, Barton, and Romanoff already tried to get me to side with them…but I’m not keen on the idea of combining boroughs or letting go of any of my territory.”

“Nor am I.”

“Only one who’s territory I wouldn’t mind sharing is with Parker…but you know that,” he shrugged, “our families have been friends forever.  I married his cousin, Pepper, so we’re practically family.”

“I’m aware…”

Tony’s smirk widened as he went over to the bar that lined one of the walls.  Reaching up he grabbed a rocks glass, and a crystal decanter, pouring some amber liquid into it, “so then, Rogers…tell me why you’ve stopped by…you’re being awfully short on words, which is quite uncharacteristic for you. And some would even say that you are coming across a little secretive.  You wanted to talk business, so let’s talk.”

“We could be allies…”

“I have an ally in Peter.  Together our territories are bigger than the rest of yours; even if you did side with those trio of stooges and Odinson.  And we’re plenty strong on our own.  If you’re trying to ask for protection, this isn’t the way to go about it, Rogers.  You’ve come without giving me anything.  So try again.”

“I’m not asking you for protection, Tony.” Steve growled, “and I’m not going to sit and grovel just so I can become besties with you and Parker.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to, Steve.” Tony replied, “you’re far too headstrong for that.  And anyways, I know that you don’t really need an alliance.  You’re not looking to start any problems with anyone else, now are you?”

Sam stared between the two men.  The tension in both of their voices did nothing to ease the situation that everyone was aware of. 

“Your sister…” Sam said simply, showing the hand Steve had hoped to keep closer to his vest, “we know that she’s of age.  She has been for a while now, but no one has come for her.  And while you’ve tried to keep her out of the family business, we know that Barton approached you about her hand…and so has Odinson.”

Tony scoffed, “and that means that you’re here to do what?  Throw your name in the hat, Rogers?  Who’s to say that I won’t marry her off to one of my lieutenants?”

“If you planned on doing that then it would have already been done,” Steve pointed out, “and anyways, every single one of them that rank high enough is already married with children…and I know that you aren’t going to pimp your sister out to them as a mistress.”

Tony’s jaw clicked, eyes flickering up to Steve’s, “watch what you say about my sister, Rogers.  Inez has plenty of options, not that it’s any of your business…”  

“Bullshit!”

Tony frowned, “Rogers.”

“Come on, Tony.  Be realistic here.  We both know that she can’t exactly marry your wife’s cousin…I know that the families have done some questionable things over the years…but that one would be a little more than curious.”

The door closed softly behind the latest addition to the Stark family, pulling away from the tension in the room, and Tony watched his wife curiously as she came into the conversation.  Pepper’s brow raised, “Sam has a point, Tony…Inez can’t marry Peter, as much as you love him like a younger brother.  That’s coming a little too close to a line that I don’t feel comfortable crossing; even if he would take her as his bride!”

Steve smiled. 

Tony’s jaw twitched as he looked at the younger man, “what are you smiling about, Rogers?”

“I’m just the best prospect your sister has,” he smirked even more as he sucked in his cheeks, “Brooklyn is a tough borough, but we are strong.  Compact.  My family has ruled it with an iron fist since the boroughs started, just as the Starks have, and the Parkers.  I know that we haven’t always gotten along, but I’m the last of the old families.  If you give her up to Barton or Odinson, you’ll be caving in to new blood.  I mean, if you give her to Odinson that sends a horrible message.  His dad was one of Potts’ lieutenants, but he had no issues getting rid of her father just to fill the space.”

“That’s enough!” Pepper growled, “you won’t disrespect my father by t-“

“Pepper,” Tony sighed, cutting his wife off with a single look, “Rogers is trying to explain why he should get Inez’ hand.  He meant nothing by it in talking about your father…right Rogers?”

“I apologize,” Steve frowned, sparing her a glance, “I mean no disrespect, Pepper…I’m just trying to explain my position.  As Tony said.”

“Then tread carefully, Rogers!” Tony warned.  He reached up and put an arm on his wife’s waist.  She sighed and moved into his lap before grabbing the rocks glass and drinking the amber liquid.

“Right,” he answered, “as I was saying…Odinson would send the wrong message.  Parker is practically family.  And while my number two would have been a good option had his father been able to keep the borough that those idiots run now, that only leaves me.  You don’t want to give in to a borough that has three people leading it.  They haven’t had stability since Buck’s father was executed…you’d be sending her into a fucking massacre.”

“Are you getting to your point anytime soon, Rogers?”

“You need to send the right message, Stark…a carefully crafted one that has all the markers of being strong, bold, and thorough,” he reasoned, “anyone other than me, won’t send that.  If you gave her away to another family’s lieutenants, that wouldn’t do it.  That might put the wrong image of you out there.  Might give people the idea that you’re soft…aging out of your position before your time by giving the only daughter of Howard Stark to someone that’s unimportant.  You don’t want that.  You don’t need that.  You need me, Tony.  Send a message of strength.”

Tony’s jaw twitched even more at the younger man’s insinuations, “you’d be smart to be nicer to me, Rogers.  Especially since you’re asking for my sister’s hand.  Manhattan may not be the biggest borough, but our contributions are strong ones.  You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need me just as much as you’re insinuating that I needed you.”

 “Boys…” Pepper said with a soft, but warning tone.  Tony looked to his wife, and then to the man from Brooklyn, “if you’re not here to ask for protection, or wanting to combine your territories, then what are you looking for Mr. Rogers?  An alliance and my sister-in-law’s hand must not be all that you’re asking for?”

“How do you even know about Inez?” Tony asked after a moment, “I’ve done everything I can to make sure that none of you have seen her.  My mother and father worked tirelessly in making sure she received her education outside of the states…she only came back after their deaths, and I made it my life’s purpose to make sure that I stayed the most powerful borough, and maintained the secret that I even had a sibling.”

“Just because she’s a mystery to us, doesn’t mean we don’t know of her existence, Tony,” Steve chuckled, “sure…none of my guys know what she looks like, but we all know that Inez Stark exists.  It’s my job to know who is who, and how to make sure I don’t lose my place to someone attempting to fly under a radar.  Be smart, Tony.  You had to have known that one day this would happen.”

Tony’s eyes closed and he rubbed his forehead.  Steve frowned, suddenly feeling guilty over using Tony’s younger sister as a pawn.  He remembered how his best friend had felt whenever Mr. Barnes had used Bucky’s sisters as bargaining chips in retaining the number two position under his father when he lost Staten Island to Odin Allfather when he was a child.  He remembered how his best friend’s heart broke when his sisters were shipped off to different parts of the state to keep Odin Allfathers’ empire happy, and the outlying generals up his sleeve. 

“I never wanted this life for her, Rogers…” Tony said in a slow, sad voice, “my parents never wanted Inez to be a bargaining chip…and she’s not going to be one.  She’s my sister.  I don’t want this life for her.  I know what happened to Barnes’ sisters.  And Wilson’s sister…I know the torment that Pepper felt when she thought she was going to be used as a bargaining chip for her father’s power.”

“No one ever prays for that life, Stark…” Steve frowned, “it’s why our fathers all prayed for boys.”

“Pepper…can you go get Inez for me?” Tony asked his wife gently.  Pepper gave him a soft look and nodded, before leaving the boardroom.  Tony downed the rest of his drink and began towards the wall once more.  This time he grabbed two more glasses.

“Sam doesn’t drink on the clock, Stark…”

“Third glass is for Inez,” he muttered softly as he filled the three glasses and walked back to the table, “she’s going to lose her shit when she hears…I’d always told her that when we were little, that I’d keep her safe…now I’m about to hand her over to a wolf.”

Steve chuckled, a sigh escaping his lips as Tony slid a glass over to him, and placed the third on his side, “Look…I never had a sibling, so I don’t know what this is like from your side…but I remember how much it tore Buck up when his dad lost Staten Island to Thor’s father a few decades back…I-I may seem old school, but I have respect for women…I helped Rebecca get out of the Allfather’s clutches when he started using them up like they were chips.  I just want you to know that your sister will be safe with me, Tony.  I can promise you that.”

Tony’s eyes flickered to the young Rogers man, “you have a reputation, Steve…you may have helped Barnes’ eldest sister, but that was for a different reason.  We all knew that you cared for her in a different way.  You don’t know my sister…and I know what you do…your reputation is one that people are loud about.”

“I know what they say…”

“Yeah?” Tony asked, “and what’s that?”

“I’m known for fucking the girls in my clubs…I know…”

“That stops when you marry Inez…”  he warned thoughtfully, “and if I ever see her with a mark-“

“I’ll be kind to your sister, Tony.”

“She’s a reserved one, Rogers…”

“Is that your way of saying she’s ugly?” he asked cheekily, “because I can do a wedding just for the paper’s sake and you could keep her here in her ivory tower while I take a mistress.”

There was a gasp from the door.  And suddenly Steve regretted his words.  Pepper stood beside a young, dark-haired woman, who looked simply appalled. 

“Shit…” Tony cursed, his eyes trailing between his sister and newest ally, “Inez, this is-“

“Whatever business deal you’re trying to set up, I won’t be a part of it, Tony,” she growled, shooting her brother a look that should have sent him to the grave, “I’m not some piece of pussy you can barter with…and I’m not some homely, desperate woman looking to be married off to a pompous ass either.”

She shot Steve a look and he frowned. 

“Inez…” Pepper sighed.  She shot her sister-in-law a worried look, and Pepper put one hand on her shoulder, wrapping it around the younger woman, while the other made its way to soothingly rub her other arm, “Tony’s doing this for you, Inez…this is Steve…Steve Rogers.  He runs Brooklyn.”

The young woman swallowed the anxiety that was building in her stomach.  Steve stood up to properly examine the young woman. 

She had olive skin, and her curly chocolate hair seemed to fall down her back, flowing like a river of ringlets.  She was petite, and perfectly proportioned, and Steve found himself salivating at the thought of her as his wife.  He found himself regretting the cheeky joke even more, knowing that he had unintentionally dug himself a hole where he wasn’t sure he’d be able to dig himself out of.

And as much as it was a business proposition to align himself with Tony and Peter, actually seeing his future bride made him want to please her, in hopes that he could do more than just have her on his arm.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she groaned, rolling her eyes and separating herself from her sister-in-law only to find herself walking towards the bar.

“I already got you a glass, Inny…”

“Save it for yourself,” she moaned, opening the crystal decanter and taking a large gulp of the amber liquid inside of it, “the rest of this is mine now.”

“Woman after my own heart!” Steve teased as he shoved his hands in his pockets, “gorgeous and knows how to take what she wants.”

Her eyes flickered up to his, and his breath caught in his throat, “let’s get one thing straight right now, Rogers…one thing I’m not going after is your heart.  And despite your position, I’m not impressed with your cheap words.  So, you can go to hell with that cheeky attitude right now!”

“Happy engagement, sis…” Tony tried nervously as he looked at his little sister.  Guilt gnawed at him when he watched the happiness drain from his little sister’s face, “I-I’m sorry Inny…”

“Don’t call me that, Anthony!” she all but begged as she gave him a sad look, “I-I don’t want you calling me by that name, anymore…not now.  Not after this.  I’d rather marry Peter…”

“Inez,” Pepper tried, rushing up to her, “you have to understand.  We’re doing this because Steve is the lesser of three evils.  You saw Clint Barton and Thor Odinson both coming in the past week and Tony turned them down…he wouldn’t put you in harm’s way or-”

She turned towards her brother once more, “Tony…were you-were you waiting on Steve to come to you for my hand?”

Tony frowned, his younger sister revealing his thought process aloud as his wife explained it to her.

“Pepper…”

Steve’s brow rose as he too, hit the realization, “so Odinson and Barton were already here?  And you already turned them down?  Stark, you were waiting on me to come for your sister, weren’t you?  Who exactly was it that let it slip that you had a sister who was of age?”

“Like you said, Rogers…” Tony sighed, grabbing the glass and downing it like it was a shot.  The glass hit the table with a firm click as Tony breathed out, “we need each other…Inez was the ace in my pocket.  I knew that you’d come for her.  It was only a matter of time.  You needed an alliance.  Well so do Peter and I.  Odinson and Barton want to start another war…and we’re going to stay out of it.  You marrying Inez means that the three of us band together and stay neutral.  Let the new bloods kill each other…and the three of us will split the territory when it all goes to shit.”

Chapter 3

Tag List:  @teambarnes72, @prokey16, @lohnes16

[ode2cheol]

minute too late

this is angst there’s no happy ending ＾▽＾ there’s not even any fluff ＞ω＜ 0.7k words

jun couldn’t take his eyes off of you. but oh he prays he could.

because the more he looks at you, the more he stares and hates himself for staring.

you’re not his to admire. you’re not his to want to compliment every time he lays eyes on you. you’re not his to want to hug you, and kiss you, and just tell you everyday how much he loves you.

does he even love you?

he knows he does but he tries asking himself that every now and then so he can convince himself he hasn’t been hopelessly in love with you for as long as he could remember.

everyday he regrets introducing his friend to you that one day.

and everyday he’s disgusted with himself for being so jealous of his friend for becoming your boyfriend instead of jun.

it’s not fair he thinks, but maybe it is?

he supposes it’s his own fault. why couldn’t he tell you sooner? why was he so much of a coward? why was he so afraid of rejection? why was he so sure you didn’t feel the same way?

he knows why. because he’s seen how you look at him, the look you’ve given to any past lovers was never the same as the look you gave jun. he knew he couldn’t compare. and at the end of the day, he’d rather he suffer in silence rather than lose you forever.

that was what jun wanted, but why was he avoiding you now? he couldn’t stand to be near you when that lovesick grin was never for him but for his friend.

“babe? you haven’t heard from junnie have you?” you asked nervously from your boyfriend’s side, “he hasn’t answered his texts. and ever since we all hung out that day he’s hasn’t said anything since he randomly left. and every time me and soonyoung tried hanging out with him since he says something came up”

“jun? nah he’s been the same to me, did you guys have an argument or something?” he replied, rubbing your side gently.

“no not that i’m aware of” you pouted, “hey how ‘bout i text him from your phone to see what’s up?”

“no! u-uh no” your boyfriend jumped, “you— you can’t do that- sorry baby. how ‘bout you just drop by his house instead?”

you eyed him for a few seconds before shrugging, “sure. hopefully he’ll actually talk to me instead of just slamming the door in my face”

you spent most of the car ride just thinking about jun. why was he avoiding you? did you do something to upset him? you sat nervously for a few minutes in your car parked outside of jun’s place.

you knocked on his door, dusting anything off your sweater while you waited. why were you so nervous? this was jun. jun who you’ve known since you were a kid. jun who you’ve been through practically everything with. jun who you had that crush on in-

“yn” he sighed, luckily, he actually did answer, albeit he probably didn’t even know it was you when he answered considering his surprised face, looking at you for a few seconds before his gaze was stuck on the suddenly very interesting sleeves of his own sweater, “something wrong or..?”

“can’t i just see my best friend?”

right. best friend.

“especially since my best friend has been avoiding me for a week. what’s up? did something happen? did i do something to make you mad? whatever it was junnie i’m really sorry-“

“you don’t have to be sorry. i promise” he cleared his throat, “it’s just— nothing. yn, i can’t do this anymore. i don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve this, your boyfriend doesn’t deserve this— let’s just, agree to not hang out anymore”

and before you could reply, he was gone. you chuckled mirthlessly at how he really did slam the door on you. at least he actually heard you out you guess, is what you tried to humour yourself with to distract yourself from the tears pooling in your eyes. you hummed along with the music in your car to distract yourself from the tears falling down your cheeks when you knocked his door for five minutes before you realised you really had lost your best friend.

[senashenta]

Cheap Motel

Title: Cheap Motel

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex. Just. All the sex.

Summary: Almost nine months ago, Dean and Cas met in the cafeteria at Caspar High and the rest was history. They fell in love, they fought monsters together—and then Dean’s dad yanked him off to the next job, leaving Cas behind. Now, Dean and Cas meet up for the first time in seven long months of being apart, of texting and phone calls and video chats, to try to make up for lost time and stock up memories over the course of a too-short weekend in a cheap motel in Amarillo, Texas.

Notes: To anyone coming into this blind, I highly recommend that you read Horror High before this fic or Cheap Motel won’t make a lick of sense. :D

I said I was going to wait two weeks to post Cheap Motel, but then I got impatient and now I’m posting it a week early! :D (I’ll post the next one next week, I guess.)

It’s literally just 34 pages of 12-point Arial font worth of smut. Top!Dean and Bottom!Cas, same as Horror High was. Sorry, that’s just how I like them. Just… just get used to Top!Dean and Bottom!Cas from me (mostly) if you like my SPN writing, it’s going to be a theme. Not that almost anyone DOES like my SPN writing, but you know, just a warning.

I arbitrarily decided that Dean was travelling from Sacramento, California and since Cas was still in Jacksonville, Florida, I just picked a city that was kind of in-between the two. Hence, Amarillo, Texas. I also actually looked up how long it would take to drive from Jacksonville to Amarillo, and google told me 20 hours, so since Cas is taking the bus, I added on 4 hours for stops and layovers. See me doing actual research?

I know nothing about Amarillo, Texas, I have never been there, so almost everything is just made up, same as all the Jacksonville stuff was made up in Horror High. They do have a botanical garden, though! Anyway, I am Canadian, and I am poor, so I can’t afford to travel to all these places for research, even though I would love to. :P

The whole 1426 F Street in Sacramento, California deal is actually a THING, I am a True Crime fan and it’s one of my favorites. Go look up Dorothea Puente. She’s fascinating and horrifying at the same time. If any house is haunted, hers is!

Phil’s is actually a diner that is local-ish to where I live and does, in fact, have AMAZING hamburgers/cheeseburgers. Technically they’re an hour drive away but I will MAKE THAT JOURNEY just for one of their burgers. SO GOOD. If you are ever in Penetanguishene, ON, Canada, GO THERE YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

Also, I am perfectly aware that no one is going to read this, just like no one really read Horror High, I basically just wrote it for myself. If anyone DOES read it, consider dropping me a comment and/or kudos, I thrive on feedback. Can also be read on AO3. <3

HORROR HIGH et al TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

CHEAP MOTEL By Senashenta

[Southcrest Inn, 129 Cactus Drive, room 7]

Cas looked at the brief instructions on his phone and then up at the motel in front of him. It wasn’t that he was skeptical, he knew the Winchesters chose cheap, often run-down motels to keep a low profile, it was just that the place was so very run-down. It looked like it shouldn’t even be in business anymore. Like it would blow over at the slightest breeze.

But the neon sign out from was blinking Southcrest Inn: Vacancies and there were a couple of cars in the parking lot, so Cas just hummed to himself, hiked his backpack up on his shoulder and made his way closer, down the row of rooms until he reached the one with the number seven haphazardly tacked to the door.

Cas had been on a Greyhound bus—or, rather, a series of Greyhound busses—for the last twenty-four hours. He had left Jacksonville late Thursday night, basically sneaking out of the house with nothing but a note left for his father that he was taking off for the weekend and would be back Monday night. His father wouldn’t be angry that he had ducked out for the weekend, since it was the middle of summer break and his first semester at Florida State didn’t start until September, but Cas really hadn’t wanted any safety lectures.

Now, he knocked on the door to room number seven almost hesitantly—then knocked again, louder, a minute later. When he listened carefully, he could hear movement inside, the frantic shuffling of items, and smiled to himself. He was just about to knock a third time when the door flew open and an arm shot out—a hand grabbed at the front of his shirt and he was yanked into the room, the door slammed shut behind him.

Then his backpack was pulled out of his grasp and discarded to the side, and he was shoved back against the now-closed door, a body pressing close to him and lips finding his own, kissing him hard and deep and passionately. Cas just allowed it all, kissing back in kind until a long moment later when he was finally allowed to breathe again.

Cas smiled widely at Dean. “Hi.”

Dean grinned back. “Hi, yourself.”

Cas pushed him back to arms’ length to look him over: same ripped blue jeans, same grey t-shirt, same flannel, same pendant, same adorably tousled hair, same green eyes. Nothing had changed. Good. “You’re still wearing your bracelet—ah. Cuff.” He observed, obviously pleased.

“Of course I am.” Dean ran his hand over the wrist cuff in question with a smile, “you gave it to me. It’s one of the few special things I own. I only take it off to shower.” And then, to explain; “don’t wanna ruin the leather.”

“Makes sense.” Cas’s smile widened and his grip on Dean tightened slightly—then he pulled the other man back against himself, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and tugging him in for another kiss. “I missed you.”

“Mmhm.” Dean agreed against his lips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pushing Cas back against the door again. He brought his hands up to rest by Cas’s hips, kneading there restlessly before sliding his palms up the other man’s sides to his chest and farther to push Cas’s trench coat down off his shoulders.

Cas shrugged out of it easily, leaving it to fall to the floor. Then he let his hands come down to shove at the flannel overshirt Dean was wearing. “Off.”

Dean let go of him long enough to shrug out of it, then returned to letting his hands rub up and down Cas’s sides—then under his shirt, fingers dragging against his skin. Cas let his head fall back against the door and Dean dove in to kiss along his exposed throat immediately.

A soft groan and Cas swallowed thickly. “Dean, come on. Can we at least find a bed?”

“The bed here is shit.” Dean muttered, still mouthing along Cas’s neck, “prepare to be disappointed.”

“I guarantee you nothing about this will be disappointing.” Cas replied with a chuckle, even as Dean’s arms snaked around his waist and the older man pulled him away from the door, backing farther into the room, over toward the bed in question.

Cas followed along easily, ducking in for another kiss as they moved—then yelped out a surprised noise when Dean’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and he tumbled backward, pulling Cas along with him. Cas landed on top of him with a laugh and ducked his head to kiss at the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean squirmed, trying to work them farther up the mattress with little success.

“Dude, get off me so we can do this right.”

“I feel like that sentence entirely contradicts itself, Dean.”

Still, Cas climbed off Dean and watched the other man shimmy his way into the proper spot on the bed before climbing back on himself, crawling over to lean over Dean for another kiss. Dean just grabbed at him and pulled Cas down on top of himself—and Cas threw a leg over his boyfriend, settling straddling his hips. He sat back and smiled down at Dean.

“This is much better, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice came out the slightest bit strained and his hands rested on Cas’s thighs, kneading there restlessly. “Much better.” But then he grinned and added, “you know what they call this? The full cowgirl.” Followed by a pause before; “cowboy, I guess.”

Cas blinked down at him and just leaned down to kiss him again. “You’re talking nonsense. You often do that when we have sex.”

“I do not.” Dean protested against his lips, “you just don’t get the reference.”

“That is entirely possible.” The younger man agreed. He began tugging at Dean’s t-shirt, pushing it up as much as he could. “Take this off.”

Dean didn’t complain, instead just leaning up and tugging his shirt off, tossing it to the side before looking at Cas expectantly—Cas chuckled and pulled his own shirt over his head, getting rid of it as well, and Dean’s hands slid away from his thighs, wandering to his abdomen, then further up his torso, just feeling out his skin warmly.

Cas, meanwhile, reached to undo Dean’s jeans—though he couldn’t exactly get them off the older man sitting on him as he was. So, he lifted up onto his knees and then eased away, ending up sitting on the bed beside Dean instead. Dean absolutely pouted at him, and it was absolutely adorable.

“Just take your pants off.” Cas told him, amused.

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly shucked out of his pants and boxers, then waited while Cas finally shifted over to stand up off the bed, kicked his shoes off (finally) and then got out of his own jeans and boxers before turning around and crawling back onto the mattress, up to settle half-over Dean, leaning down to kiss him once more.

The older man brought one hand up to cup the side of Cas’s neck, holding there as he deepened the kiss—and at the same time slid his other hand down to wrap his fingers around Cas’s half-hard cock. Cas muffled a moan against Dean’s lips, hardening up the rest of the way quickly, rocking his hips into the touch. Dean gave a soft chuckle. “Just from a little touch like that?”

Cas bit at Dean’s lower lip gently and muttered, “it’s been seven months, Dean.” He had missed Dean’s touch. His own just wasn’t as… satisfactory anymore. “Did you bring stuff? Because if you didn’t, I did.”

“You mean condoms and lube?” Dean let his head fall back with a laugh and regarded Cas with obvious amusement. “Of course I did.”

“You should go get them now, Dean.” Cas rocked his hips against Dean’s hand again but followed that up by reaching down to push it away from him. He shifted back once more, this time rolling onto his back beside where Dean was laying. He looked sideways at Dean and raised his eyebrows, waiting.

While Dean hurried to get out of the bed and across the room to the dresser, Cas slid one of his hands down to stroke at his own cock, back arched slightly and breath starting to come faster. From across the room, he heard Dean curse and Cas gave a breathless laugh at the sound but didn’t stop what he was doing.

Barely a few seconds later and the mattress was dipping again as Dean climbed back into the bed. Cas didn’t open his eyes or stop stroking himself off until Dean settled over him and pulled Cas’s hand away, replacing it with his own. And it really felt so much better that way—with Dean doing the touching instead of himself.

“You’re still hot as hell.” Dean muttered against Cas’s throat, “don’t know how I got so damned lucky.”

“I—ah—feel the same way about you.” Cas gasped out—and turned his head to kiss Dean, hot and wanting, before breaking off with a moan. “God, Dean… come on…!”

But Dean was way ahead of him, already letting go of Cas’s cock and grabbing for the lubricant, slathering it on the fingers of his right hand and then tossing the tube onto the bedside table where it would be out of the way. Then he patted a hand against one of Cas’s hips, urging him to part his legs—which Cas did, easily and without question, head back and already breathing hard.

When Dean pushed the first finger into Cas’s body, Cas hissed, nearly flinched, and Dean paused, glancing up at him to comment, “you really haven’t been with anyone else since I left, have you?”

Cas gave him a look that Dean returned with a cheeky grin. “Of course not. You know I would never…” And then; “it’s just practically new again after all this time, give me a minute to adjust, Dean.”

Dean eased his finger deeper even as he slid up to look Cas in the eyes. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you and I are exclusive. Just… sometimes it’s hard to believe that someone like you would wait around for someone like me. Especially for so long.” Leaning down, he kissed Cas softly, even as he began moving his hand, gently, carefully; “I haven’t been with anyone else, either, just in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering,” Cas offered a little smile, his hips shifting slightly and one hand sliding down to palm at his own cock again. “I know you’re faithful. I trust you—ah!” A small gasp when Dean barely grazed his prostate and Cas let his head fall back, “okay, yeah, I’d almost forgotten about that…!”

“Your prostate?” Dean asked smugly.

Cas nodded, head still back—then gasped again, loudly this time, when Dean pushed a second finger into him and immediately eased deep to drag the pads of his fingers across the nerve bundle in question. Cas grabbed at the sheets with his free hand and moaned, the faint discomfort from the stretching completely forgotten now. “God, you didn’t forget where it is!”

“I have an awesome memory.” Dean chuckled, and leaned down to mouth along Cas’s exposed throat, even as he continued stretching him out, purposefully rubbing against his prostate as much as possible.

“You really do, I—oh, God, Dean!” Cas’s voice came out high and loud and it made Dean laugh against his skin. The younger man arched and panted and finally brought both hands up to grab at Dean almost desperately, “I’m ready—I’m ready! Please, Dean, just… I’m ready…!”

Dean actually had the gall to smirk and ask, “are you sure? It has been seven months…”

Cas had to bite his own lip hard to muffle a too-loud shout when Dean followed that up by a particularly good push against his sweet spot. He sucked in a shaky breath and smacked one hand against Dean’s side. “Dean, please just—fuck me already!”

Cas wasn’t known to swear very much, especially the more serious words like “fuck”, and Dean actually blinked down at him in surprise for just a moment before pulling his hand away, licking his lips absently and reaching for a condom. He ripped it open and rolled it onto his own straining dick while Cas attempted to collect himself a little, head still back and breathing hard.

Once he was ready, Dean settled himself between Cas’s legs and reached to pull Cas into a kiss, even as he pushed his cock into the other man. Cas moaned against Dean’s mouth and Dean gave a low groan in response. The two of them were still for a long moment, just breathing together—and then Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s hips and his hands slid up to grip at the back of Dean’s shoulders. “Move, Dean, ah…!”

Dean didn’t need to be told again. He ducked in to kiss Cas once more and rolled his hips, fucking himself into the younger man’s body and rocking his hips to start up a rhythm, his thrusts deep and hard—and perfect, as far as Cas was concerned; but then he didn’t think this could be anything but perfect.

For his part, Cas just dug his fingers into Dean’s back and met the older man’s thrusts with the rocking of his own hips, hot, kinetic and just this side of rough. They fucked deeply, thoroughly, in a totally full-bodied way that easily conveyed just how long they had been apart, how much they had missed each other—they kissed and touched and moved together with obvious longing.

The shitty motel bed held up, though it creaked and groaned loudly under them. It would have been comical in any other situation. For now, they both ignored it. Dean ducked to bury his face in the crook of Cas’s neck and Cas threw his head back against the pillows, gasping for air, dragging his nails down Dean’s back. Dean hissed out a curse but didn’t stop moving, biting down on Cas’s shoulder just a little more than gently in response, totally lost in the moment.

It couldn’t last forever, though. Eventually Dean eased a hand between them to start jerking at Cas’s cock along with his thrusts, and after that it was only another couple moments before Cas was coming, arching and tensing with a sharp cry, still gripping hard at Dean’s back.

When Cas tensed up, he clamped down on Dean inside him and the older man gave a grunt at the feeling, his movements getting sharper and jerky, falling out of rhythm until he tumbled over the edge as well, coming with a low moan, muffled into Cas’s shoulder. Another couple of short thrusts, almost cursory, and Dean slumped over Cas to pant by his ear with a grin. “I, ah… I definitely missed that.”

Cas gave a breathless laugh. “Me too.”

“…I think you scratched my back up.”

“Well, you bit me, so let’s call it even.”

“Mmm… yeah, I guess I can go with that plan.”

“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had. We’ve ever had.”

“It must have been, you haven’t even told me to get out of you yet.”

“…Dean.”

“Okay, okay.”

-- --

Some time later, Cas found himself laying on his stomach with his arms crossed under his head, smiling at Dean, who was laying beside him, propped on his side with his head in his hand. His other hand, meanwhile, stroked up and down Cas’ bare back, just petting along his spine gently, making Cas arch into the feeling. “I told you the bed would be disappointing.” Dean commented idly.

Cas laughed. “Maybe a little.” He conceded, “but everything else was perfect.”

“Yeah, it really was, wasn’t it?” Dean continued petting along his back, the touches gentle and affectionate. Eventually he dipped to touch his fingers along the scars that striped across Cas’ ribs and commented, “these healed up nicely.”

“Mm.” Cas agreed. The wounds the jorogumo had given him had left behind two long parallel scars that ran along his ribs, from the front of his ribcage almost to his spine. They didn’t hurt anymore, though, and would fade out naturally over time. “I’m… still trying to figure out what to tell my Father.” His father hadn’t seen the marks yet, miraculously, but it was probably an inevitability, all things considered. Cas didn’t know what to tell him that didn’t involve fighting giant spider-ladies with his Hunter boyfriend. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“I don’t know, Cas, I never have to explain my scars to family members. This is outside my expertise.”

“I was afraid of that.” A tiny frown, then; “are you still angry?”

Dean looked at him for a long moment before admitting, “a little. You got hurt for me, Cas. You never should have been there.”

“But I couldn’t let you go in alone.” Cas murmured, blue eyes sharp and serious. “Without backup. That’s… you could have really gotten hurt, Dean, and the thought of that…”

“But you did get hurt!” Dean insisted, his hand resting over the scars now, kneading there restlessly; “I thought you were going to die for a minute, do you have any idea what that did to me?!”

Cas winced, glancing away. He knew. Dean loved him, and if he had died the other man would never have been the same. “I—” He began, then swallowed before finishing softly, “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“I know you are, just… seeing the scars again is…” The older man trailed off, then pushed forward, shoving Cas onto his back and settling over him, a comfortable weight. Cas blinked up at him before lifting his arms to wrap them around Dean’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. When they broke apart again, Dean frowned at him and muttered, “it scared the shit out of me, Cas. Promise me you’ll never do anything stupid like that again.”

“You already made me promise that, remember?”

“Promise again.”

Cas tilted his head and kissed Dean again, just gently, then offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile; “I promise.”

Dean looked down at him appraisingly. Then he just ducked his head to kiss along Cas’s collar bone, the entire thing dismissed for now, and asked against the other man’s skin, “so, what’s with the trench coat?”, changing the topic entirely.

Cas hummed and let his head fall back, enjoying the kisses. “My Father got it for me for my birthday. I actually kind of like it.”

“You’re a weird guy.”

“I know.”

“What else did you get for your birthday?”

“Jody baked a cake,” Cas shrugged and dragged one hand up to thread his fingers into Dean’s hair, “and Charlie made me a bracelet.”

“Yeah, I noticed that when we were taking your clothes off,” Dean grinned up at him, “it’s nice.”

“They’re protection stones, she said.”

“Black tourmaline and black obsidian, mm.” He had gone back to kissing across Cas’s chest, now, the words a little muffled.

“How can you tell the difference?” Cas lifted his arm to look at the bracelet in question; it was made up of medium-sized, round, black gemstones with little blue colored spacer beads in-between—the same color as his eyes. “They all just look black to me.”

Dean shrugged. “A lifetime of training in all things spooky.”

“I guess that’s true.” Cas conceded. Dean paused to lick over one of his nipples and Cas arched into it with a soft gasp, hand flying back to Dean’s hair; “and—ah—Garth got me a kitten, he says because I look grumpy and ‘you can’t have a kitten and be grumpy.’ My Father actually let me keep it, he even got me an automatic litter box and feeder for it. That’s the only reason I could come meet up with you, because I know it’s still being fed and cleaned up after. Its’ name is Marshmallow.” Then, to clarify; “I did not name the kitten, Garth did.”

“Cats make me sneeze, but I’m sure it’s adorable.” Dean chuckled.

“Actually, Marshmallow also has a grumpy face.” Cas frowned a little, “I don’t know what Garth was thinking.”

This time Dean laughed, dropping his head to bury his face in Cas’s chest. “You’re the actual best. I know we already covered this, but you have no idea how much I missed you, Cas.”

“Jo got me a gift certificate for Magickal Things,” Cas continued on, ignoring Dean’s little outburst for now; “and Kevin got me a really interesting book on metaphysics.” Then he added, “I also got a message from you on my birthday, that was my favorite thing.” He smiled when Dean looked up at him again; “I missed you, too, Dean. So much.”

Dean leaned up for a kiss. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your birthday.”

Cas just hummed against Dean’s lips. “It’s okay. I understand. You were busy, and your job is important.”

A sigh from Dean. “I’m glad you have friends to keep you company.”

“It can be nice.” Cas admitted, “except when they want me to do social things, like go to parties. Charlie is particularly bad for that.”

A snort. “I can’t even imagine you at a party.”

“That’s what I try to tell them, but they are being purposefully deaf.”

“Hey, Cas?”

“Mm?”

Dean nuzzled into Cas’ neck just under his jaw and murmured, “I love you.”

A soft smile. “I love you, too, Dean.”

“Seven months is a long time.”

“A very long time, yes. We shouldn’t let it go so long before meeting up again.”

“This was the soonest I could get away from Dad and Sam,” Dean sighed and kissed down along Cas’ neck to his shoulder, nipping there lightly just to make him squirm. He smirked to himself when it worked.

“I know,” Cas shifted under him, one hand sliding up to rub along his side, “I didn’t even tell my Father I was coming here. I just… left. He’s going to be disappointed in me.”

Dean was working his way downward again, kissing over Cas’ clavicle to lick across a nipple once more, making the younger man gasp. “You’re technically an adult now,” he pointed out, “you can take off on your own for a weekend, it’s fine.”

“I think… ah.” Cas let his head fall back, arching against Dean’s mouth as it continued southward. “I think my Father will see it differently… especially… especially if he finds out I left to meet up with you for—for sex…!” Dean was sucking a little bruise just under his navel, and Cas grabbed at the other man’s hair for purchase, “God, Dean…!”

“You’re allowed to get laid once in a while, Cas,” Dean chuckled. He had paused to regard the small bruise he’d pulled up with self-satisfaction and ducked in to lick across it lightly. Cas slumped a bit during this apparent reprieve—only to gasp and arch a moment later when Dean’s tongue swiped over the head of his already straining dick.

This wasn’t something they had done often, yet—oral sex. Not that they didn’t both enjoy it, they just tended not to go for blowjobs when they could have the real thing. Dean had only gone down on him once before, and Cas knew he had never been with any other men that way.

But what Dean lacked in experience, in this case, he made up for in enthusiasm—he licked up along the underside of Cas’s dick, then let the tip slide past his lips as he began to suck, easing deeper as he went until he had all of Cas’s cock in his mouth and Cas was trying desperately not to writhe under him, pulling at his hair without even meaning to.

With his mouth full, Dean just grunted at the hair pulling—but allowed it, instead focusing on what he was doing, beginning to bob his head, sucking up and down Cas’s cock, swirling his tongue against the head when he was pulled off nearly all the way before sinking back down again, as deep as he could go without choking.

Dean may not have given many blowjobs in his time, but he’d received his fair share, and he really did have an awesome memory, it was true. Now he worked Cas over like a professional, slick and messy and leaving the younger man gasping for air and fighting hard against the urge to thrust himself even deeper into Dean’s plush mouth.

Instead, he brought one hand up to muffle himself a bit and pulled even harder at Dean’s hair—which finally got Dean to pull off his cock just long enough to cough out, “we’ve talked about the hair pulling thing, Cas”—and then he just dove back in, gulping Cas down and continuing to suck him off with obvious enthusiasm. Cas gasped out an apology and loosened his grip on Dean’s hair.

But his climax was building steadily, and it was only another couple of minutes before Cas came with a shout, throwing his head back and tugging at Dean’s hair again, pulling as he panted breathlessly—and then immediately released Dean to fumble for the beside table where the lube had been previously discarded, grabbing the tube with shaky fingers and shoving it down in Dean’s direction.

Dean looked up at him, still pulling off his cock, swallowing and licking his lips, and made a surprised noise. “Are you sure? You just—”

“I am fully aware that I just.” Cas replied, still breathing hard, “but you haven’t yet, and I want you inside me.”

“But—”

“Dean, please.”

Dean’s expression shifted from surprise to amusement, and he quickly reached to nick the lube from Cas’s hand. “We’re gonna be too exhausted to even go out for food later, at this rate.”

“I am completely okay with that.” Cas dropped his head back onto the pillow again, adjusting himself when Dean nudged at him to get his legs up and then swallowing a too-loud moan when the older man prodded at him gently with slicked-up fingers before just sliding two into him immediately, pushing deep with no preamble. He was still loose from earlier, apparently.

Good. That was good. Because—

Cas pushed up abruptly, sitting and reaching to shove Dean over onto his back. Dean went down with a squawk and some slight flailing, but landed with a laugh, grinning while he watched Cas sling a leg over him and settle straddling his hips. He brought his hands up to rest against Cas’s thighs and swallowed slightly. “So, this is gonna be new.”

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, then; “is it okay?”

“More than okay.” Dean continued grinning up at him… then groaned softly when Cas shifted in his lap. “Ah, Cas…”

Dean was painfully, obviously hard under him, though Cas was still recovering from coming just a couple of minutes before. Still. He could do this. So, Cas just licked his lips absently and lifted up onto his knees, reaching down to hold Dean’s cock steady before lining up and lowering himself onto it slowly. There was some stretching involved, but it was mostly a pleasant burn as he sank down over Dean with a low, breathy moan.

Once he was properly seated in Dean’s lap again, Cas took a moment, eyes closed and hands braced on Dean’s abdomen, feeling the unsteady way the older man was breathing. Dean was watching him, green gaze heated and wanting, hands kneading at Cas’s thighs restlessly.

After a brief pause, Cas opened his own eyes again, bit at his lower lip lightly, and started moving, rocking his hips in little, careful movements to begin with, testing the waters. Dean huffed out a groan but didn’t stop watching him, positively enraptured by what he was seeing. “God, Cas, you are…”

Cas’s brows drew together slightly, and he sighed out a moan, starting to rock his hips faster, more urgently, loving the feeling of Dean inside him. “I’m what…?”

“Incredible.” Dean groaned the words, and rocked his hips up against Cas’s gently, barely more than a nudge, still letting Cas set the pace despite the urge to fuck up into the younger man harder, faster. “You’re incredible.”

“So are… mmh… so are you, though… ah…!”  Cas was hard again, now, too, and shifted himself a bit to start rolling his hips instead of rocking them, lifting up on his knees a little on the forward and dropping down on the back—and suddenly Dean was moaning, having trouble keeping his eyes open to watch Cas’s movements over him.

For his part, Cas was starting to pant now, kneading his hands against Dean’s abdomen as he continued moving, his own cock throbbing against his stomach. Dean just continued holding tight to Cas’s thighs and started thrusting his hips up into Cas to meet Cas’s drops downward. Cas threw his head back with a cry and all Dean wanted to do was bite along the other man’s neck. He resisted the urge to pull Cas down and do just that.

Seeing Cas like this, completely unrestrained, entirely debauched, was almost more than Dean could take—he finally had to shut his eyes and mentally count to ten, even as he was cursing under his breath, still fucking up into Cas, because if he didn’t? He was going to come immediately and end things far too soon.

Cas’s hands finally slid against Dean’s skin, up to brace against his chest instead so he was leaning over the older man—and Dean moved his own hands to grab at Cas’s hips, fingers digging in, liable to leave little purple bruises in their wake. The motel bed was loudly protesting their movements this time, but they ignored it entirely, the creaking just mixed in with their panted moans and groans.

Arms beginning to shake slightly, Cas continued fucking himself on Dean’s cock, hard and hot, gasping out little moans with every exhale, eyes closed and fingers gripping hard against Dean’s chest… until he moved one hand down to fist his own aching dick and start to stroke, jerking himself off in time with their rhythm. It was tricky to get everything lined up, at first, but he figured out the timing quickly.

Dean had opened his eyes again, just in time to moan out a curse at the sight, and dug his nails into Cas’s hips, redoubling his thrusts up into the younger man. “Shit—Cas—!"

Cas nodded his head in agreement, mostly mutely, panting, still stroking himself and close—so close.

When he finally came, it was with a bitten-out curse, spilling sticky come all across Dean’s abdomen. But instead of collapsing immediately, Cas pushed himself back up to a proper seated position and continued rolling his hips along with Dean, panting as one hand came up to swipe his own hair back off his forehead. He was trying to catch his breath but still fucking himself on Dean’s cock, so it was proving to be a little difficult to get the oxygen.

Dean just licked his lips absently. He was so close himself that watching Cas sit back up and go right back to riding him was enough to shove him over the edge after another brief moment. He grabbed even harder at Cas’s hips to hold him still and came deep inside the other man with a low moan.

They were both still for a few seconds after that before Dean collapsed back and Cas slumped down onto him, forehead pressing into the middle of Dean’s chest. “I think…” He panted, half-muffled, “we… forgot… the condom.”

“We, ah… definitely did.” Dean rubbed one hand down Cas’s back, still breathing hard himself. “It felt fantastic… but…”

Cas nodded, his hair mussing against Dean’s chest, and after another moment he pushed himself up and lifted off of Dean, rolling to the side to sprawl out next to him instead. “Like I told you… I haven’t been with anyone else… like, ever… so…” He turned his head to look at Dean, then shuffled to tuck himself into the older man’s side. “I know you don’t… you’re not comfortable with… I mean. I know the condom thing is important to you. I’m sorry.”

Dean adjusted to let Cas settle against him, wrapping his arm around him and squeezing gently. “I think… it’s okay.” He allowed after a brief pause, then; “we’re exclusive, and I trust you. And it’s way too late now, so. There’s that.” Tipping his head, he pressed a kiss to Cas’s forehead. “No regrets with you, Cas. That’s what I’ve decided.”

“No regrets.” Cas repeated in a murmur. “Definitely.”

“Mmmmmm…!” Dean stretched a little and then trailed his fingers through the mess of come on his abdomen before bringing them up to lick at them almost absently, “so now that you’ve thoroughly fucked my brains out, how about we get cleaned up and go out for some food?”

“I think technically you were still doing the, ah… fucking.” Cas was back to hesitating over that word, much to Dean’s amusement. He watched Dean licking at his fingers almost curiously but didn’t say anything. “But yes, that sounds like a good plan to me.”

Dean didn’t move right away, eyes drifting to the ceiling—and then he grinned. “That was unbelievably hot, Cas.”

Cas shifted against his side. “I don’t know what got into me.” He muttered.

“Besides me?”

“Dean.”

“Joking, joking.” Dean rubbed a hand along Cas’s side and tipped his head to smile at him, “seriously though, I can’t believe I ever got so damn lucky. You’re smart and you’re sexy, and you love me for some reason…”

“For all the reasons.” Cas corrected him.

A laugh. “I feel the same way about you.”

“I know.” The younger man tilted his head to drop a kiss by Dean’s jaw, then pushed himself to sit up, stifling a little yawn at the same time. He’d only been there a short while and he’d already racked up three orgasms, soon he would have to take a nap—or just keep going until he just flat-out fainted. That actually wasn’t an entirely unappealing option, all things considered. Now Cas just looked down at Dean and asked, “we’re getting cleaned up for food, right? If this is going to keep happening for the next two days we’re going to need our strength.”

A chuckle and Dean grinned up at him, “you have a point, there, Cas. You definitely have a point.”

-- --

There was a diner just down the street, Phil’s, that the motel manager had apparently recommended to Dean when he had checked in the night before. Phil’s reminded Cas a lot of Maggie’s from back home in Jacksonville, minus the jukebox. It was clean, somewhat tastefully decorated, and had a typical diner menu—at least according to Dean. Cas wasn’t as up on his diner food as the other man, so he just took his word for it.

They both ordered burgers and fries. Cas ordered a cola and Dean splurged on a chocolate milkshake. He asked if they had pie and was mildly disappointed to be told that they were currently sold out; apparently it was popular.

“I’ll give you something better than pie when we get back to the motel.” Cas told him finally, when Dean continued to pout over it. Dean’s mouth immediately tilted into a smirk and Cas rolled his eyes, but allowed, “as long as you don’t steal all my fries this time.”

When their food arrived, they were both thrilled to discover that Phil’s had absolutely fabulous burgers, and not too bad fries, either. This time it wasn’t just Dean that ate with gusto, Cas nearly wolfed his food down as well, practically starving after the past few hours. Dean was privately amused at the sight—and at the reasons he knew were behind it.

“Do you still get that ringing in your ears?” Dean asked around a bite of burger. “Tin… whatever.”

“Tinnitus.” Cas looked up from his fries with his eyebrows pinched together slightly. “And yes. That’s what the doctors call it, anyway. From hitting my head. But it sounds more like… voices, whispering. To me. But I can’t quite make out what they’re saying.” A frown and he sighed, “when I told my Father, he said it was angels talking to me. Called it Angel Radio. I think he thought he was being funny, but…”

“You didn’t get the ha-ha.” Dean finished for him.

“Exactly,” Cas agreed, flicking a fry across his plate. He shrugged and took another large bite of his burger, almost finished it already. “It comes and goes,” He continued, mouth half-full, “so it’s not so bad, but it’s really annoying when it is around. Almost painful sometimes. Not something to joke about.”

“You know Chuck means well, right? He probably just doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he jokes.”

“I know. That’s why I haven’t said anything to him.”

Dean took a drink of his milkshake and asked, “did the doctors say, is there anything they can do about it?”

Cas shook his head and shoved a couple of fries in his mouth. He was finally starting to slow down on the food, though. “Mm-mm,” He made a soft negative noise, “once you’ve got tinnitus, you’re pretty much stuck with it. Apparently, you can take antidepressants, anti-anxiety medication or sometimes antihistamines to make it more bearable, but I don’t want…” He shifted in his seat and shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of possibly dulling myself like that, you know?”

“I get it.” Dean finished off the last of his burger, watching quietly for a moment as Cas did the same—and then reached over to filch a couple of fries from Cas’s plate despite his earlier promise. He’d already finished his own. Cas allowed it. “Sucks, though. At least it’s not all the time.”

A nod and Cas picked at his fries for another minute before just pushing the plate across to Dean with a smile. The older man made short work of the few fries that were left, then returned to his milkshake, which was only half gone. They were both quiet for a couple of minutes and then:

“You’ve got more scars now than you did when you left Jacksonville.” Cas observed with a frown, “four more. I counted them earlier.”

Dean nodded, “yeah, it’s been a rough few months.”

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

The older man rubbed at one shoulder—one of the new scars was there—almost absently. “I’m always okay, Cas.”

“I don’t think that’s true. But I know you don’t want to worry me.” Cas gave him a little smile, “so, what were you in Sacramento for?”

“Ghost thing.” Dean shrugged, then leaned forward and lowered his voice; “you ever hear of Dorothea Puente, 1426 F Street?” And when Cas shook his head because obviously, he hadn’t, Dean chuckled and told him, “let’s just say that house is really freaking haunted.” Then he added, “but Dad and Sammy are taking care of it. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“What did your Dad say about you taking off?”

“He wasn’t happy, but then again I didn’t give him much of a choice.” A grin, “he really doesn’t like my new attitude, when it comes to you.”

“You’re being insubordinate.” Cas chuckled and shook his head, then smiled when Dean reached across the table to take hold of one of his hands. He threaded their fingers together and squeezed gently. “Thank you for being insubordinate for me, Dean.”

“I keep telling you,” Dean squeezed his hand back, “anything for you, Cas. And I mean it. Anything.”

And wasn’t that a wonderous thing? That someone like Dean Winchester was so devoted to him. Willing to do anything for him. Despite Dean’s assurances in the past, Cas still didn’t see himself as special—certainly not special enough to deserve that kind of attentiveness from someone so obviously out of his league. But he didn’t say any of that out loud—he knew Dean didn’t like when he thought like that.

“Really,” Dean said after a moment of just looking at each other, a smitten little smile on his face, “we’re not waiting another seven months before we meet up again. Seven months was ridiculous. It was way too long not seeing you.”

Certainly, they had texted every day, and talked on the phone routinely, and even video called on the computer maybe once a week, but that just wasn’t the same as being able to touch either other, kiss each other, hold each other’s hands. The physical closeness had been desperately missed by both of them, and that fact was painfully obvious.

“It was the soonest you could get away,” Cas reminded him gently, “you can only get away when things with the Hunting are quieter, right? So, I mean… I understand.” Then a pause before; “doesn’t mean I like it, but I do understand.” Glancing down slightly, Cas offered a little smile of his own, “before this it would have been difficult for me to get away, too, because of school. My Father would never have let me take off and miss classes. But it’s summer break now, so I think I might get away with it. Once college starts up in the fall…” A shrug: “it’s easier to skip a couple of days of college than it is to skip high school. They don’t call your parents, for one…”

“I almost forgot about college.” Dean’s smile brightened and he squeezed Cas’s hand again, “Theology, right?”

“Mm, with a minor in World Religion and Folklore. Florida State.” Cas agreed, “I was going to go for a double major, but I decided against it at the last minute. Two majors is a lot to take on at once.”

“You wouldn’t catch me doing it, that’s for sure.” The older man chuckled, “where are you going to live while you’re going to school? At home?”

Cas shook his head. “No, the commute is too far. So, the dorms, at least at first. I’m hoping to get a place of my own after first year.” He paused then, blinking as he suddenly realized something; “Marshmallow can’t come with me to the dorms, can he? Father is going to have to take care of him for me until I have my own place…”

“He’s not going to like that?”

“He won’t be, um… enthused. But I think he’ll do it. He won’t make me get rid of my cat just because I’m going to school. I think.” Frowning to himself, he muttered, “I don’t know, maybe Garth can take him back for a while if Father refuses? I really hadn’t thought of this…”

Dean laughed, “Chuck’s not heartless, Cas, I think your cat will be fine.”

Dean had a point. He was probably spinning his wheels about nothing at all. Cas sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, once I’m safely in Tallahassee, getting away to meet up with you should be easier. No one will be hovering over me wondering what I’m doing and where I’m going, you know?”

An agreeing noise from Dean, who finally took his hand back to finish off his milkshake before pulling out his wallet, fishing enough cash for the meal—and a tip—out and dropping it on the table. Then he scooted out of the booth and stepped around to pull Cas to his feet as well.

“Have you ever been to Amarillo before, Cas?”

Cas blinked at him, “actually, no.” Not even in all his traveling for his father’s job. “Why?”

“Why don’t we just go for a walk for a bit?”

Cas looked out the window for a moment, almost absently. The sun was starting to go down, so the heat would be dissipating, it might actually be nice. Besides, he had pleasant memories of just wandering the streets of Jacksonville with Dean on their first-and-only Real Date, it would be nice to do it again, even if it was in a strange city. And he did have his cell phone on him in case they got lost, like last time.

Finally, he smiled at Dean and nodded. “That sounds nice, actually.”

They headed outside together, at which point Dean caught his hand again, holding it loosely in his own as they walked. Cas just enjoyed the warm feeling in his chest that resulted from the action and squeezed Dean’s hand gently. “Have you ever been to Amarillo, before, Dean?”

“Mm,” Dean agreed, “a while back on a case.”

“What were you Hunting?”

“Chupacabra.”

Cas blinked because chupacabra were real, too. “Is there anything that isn’t real?”

“Bigfoot.” Dean grinned sideways at him, then amended, “I mean. To my knowledge.”

“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me or not right now.”

Dean laughed at that. “Just assume I’m teasing you, Cas. Just always assume I’m teasing you.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you, Cas.”

“…yeah, I love you, too.”

-- --

When they got back to the motel it was nearly midnight and they basically fell in the door, barely managed to lock it behind themselves, and collapsed into the creaky bed. It had been a long day, especially for Cas, who had gone straight from a twenty-four hour bus ride into a sex marathon, and after eating and walking about town for a while both of them were well and truly done.

They at least had the energy and presence of mind to strip down to their boxers and brush their teeth before crashing for the night, cuddled up together, limbs tangled and not even caring that they were in possibly the shittiest motel in the country.

Cas’s schedule had him spending three nights there with Dean—Friday, Saturday and Sunday—though the third night barely counted because he had to be up and at the bus station at the crack of dawn to catch the first of many busses back to Jacksonville. But three nights were good. They were enough, he had thought, at least for now, especially after going so long without seeing Dean at all—except through a computer screen.

When Cas woke up in the morning it was after a night with no nightmares—the No Nightmares With Dean Around streak continued—and to Dean’s breath, soft on the back of his neck, the other man’s arm draped heavy across his waist. Cas took a while to just soak it in, eyes closing back over and enjoying how relaxed he was, the feeling of Dean being in the bed with him.

Eventually, though, he shifted, rolling over to peer past Dean’s shoulder at the clock on the bedside table. It read ten forty-three a.m., which meant they had both been out for about ten hours, give or take a few minutes. That seemed like enough time, to Cas. Time to recharge their batteries.

Now, he tipped his head to press a gentle kiss against Dean’s chin, then nudged at him until he was on his back—and began trailing soft kisses down along his chest to his abdomen and further. Dean just shifted in his sleep and sighed. He didn’t actually wake up until Cas reached the edge of his boxers and tugged them down, freeing his cock, still half-hard from sleep, and giving a long, slow lick across the head with a hum.

That was the point when Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down in blatant, sleep-fogged confusion—and then just groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Sh-shit, Cas…”

“Good morning,” Cas murmured softly, even as he licked up the side of Dean’s now-fully-hard dick and sucked the tip into his mouth, sucking at it softly. Dean cursed and brought a hand down to thread his fingers into Cas’s sleep-mussed hair.

“That’s a… heh. Hell of a way to wake up.”

Cas pulled off of him, licking his lips absently, and peered up at Dean curiously, “is it alright?”

“Is it alright.” Dean barked a laugh. He shook his head. “Yes, it’s alright, you just… caught me off-guard.” When Cas brought one hand up to start stroking at his cock, he swallowed hard and added, “you just keep, ah… surprising me, that’s all…” Then, after a brief pause and a slight buck of his hips, he tugged at Cas’s hair, drawing him up the length of his body. “C’mere, Cas.”

Cas went along willingly, releasing his hold on Dean’s dick and crawling up until he was even with the other man. He tilted his head curiously. “I thought you said it was alright?”

The fingers still tangled in his hair kneaded there restlessly before Dean pulled him down for a kiss. “It is. More than alright.” He murmured against Cas’s lips, “but I don’t just want your mouth or your hands. I want all of you.” A pause, and he smiled before asking, “is that alright?”

“Of course.” Cas replied easily with a shrug, “you can have me however you want, whenever you want.”

Dean grinned up at him, tugging him down for another kiss. “You might regret saying that one of these days, Cas.”

Cas wasn’t entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, but he still stood by his statement. He was comfortable enough with Dean to offer up that much, at least. He knew Dean wouldn’t ask him to do anything too extreme—or, rather, he might ask but he would never force the issue. Cas was entirely sure of that fact.

Now, he just settled half-over Dean, kissing him back deeply, slowly, for a long couple of minutes until they had to break apart for proper air and Dean took to kissing along his jaw, nipping gently just under his ear. Cas sighed and let one hand rub against Dean’s chest, before sliding it further down to palm at Dean’s erection again, eyes closed and enjoying the attention—and the little gasp that his boyfriend muffled into his neck when Cas started stroking him off again.

“You’re gonna… make me come… before we even get to the good part.” Dean not-quite-complained, even as he stretched, reaching with one arm for the tube of lubricant on the bedside table. One he had it in hand he pushed at Cas’s chest gently. “Lay down and let me…”

Cas nodded and almost reluctantly released his grip on Dean’s cock again to roll onto his back with a huff. This time enough time had passed that he really would need to be stretched out again, and he knew it—and it wasn’t exactly like it was a chore, Dean always made it very pleasant for him, especially now that he knew what he was doing. Then again, he’d been good at that part right from the start, hadn’t he?

Settling back, Cas stripped out of his boxers, then got himself into position and reached to pull Dean closer, licking his lips absently. “Dean…”

“I’ve got you.” Dean leaned in for a kiss—then immediately got to work prepping Cas for what was to come, first one slick finger, then two, then three, until the younger man was arching and writhing under him. Dean really was good at finding—and manipulating—Cas’s sweet spot, leaving him absolutely wrecked by the time Dean pulled his hand away again, gasping for air and borderline begging for his cock.

“God, Dean, please…!”

“I know, Cas…”

But Dean didn’t just slide into him immediately, instead pulling his own boxers off properly and moving to sit with his back against the headboard of the bed, pulling Cas, a little boneless, at this point, up into his lap. Cas moaned and let his forehead drop down against Dean’s shoulder for a moment, but he knew what Dean was angling for here—so after a very brief pause he bit his lip and lifted up on his knees, reaching down to hold Dean’s cock in place as he sank down over it slowly.

Both of them just groaned quietly and Cas was still for a few breaths as he adjusted to Dean inside him.

“This… ah. It makes me feel… privileged, you know…?” Cas let his head fall forward again, his words coming out a touch breathless and his hands sliding up Dean’s arms to hold by his shoulders. “Special.”

“What does?” The older man asked, voice strained.

“This… the fact that this is just for me...” Cas shifted his hips slightly, swallowing a moan at the movement, “that no one else gets to see you like this… touch you like this. No one else gets to—to have you like this…”

“Yeah, I… me too, Cas.” Dean panted softly, “I feel the same way. Mmh.”

“I told you before…” Cas began moving finally, rocking his hips in Dean’s lap, and wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck to hold him close, “I don’t want to—ah!—share you…! I always want you… to be just mine…!”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed around a moan, then; “shit, Cas…!”

The thing about being sat up in Dean’s lap the way he was, pressed close together the way they were, this position, was that Dean’s cock rubbed firmly against his prostate with every roll of his hips and Cas was very quickly losing his wits. Now he just nodded his head, forehead pressed against Dean’s shoulder, unable to come up with any more words for the moment, and made a breathless, almost whining sound in the back of his throat.

Dean’s hands were clamped on his hips, right over the little bruises from the day before, a constant, tiny sting of pain that just seemed to set everything off even more. Cas rocked his hips harder and lifted his head to drag Dean into a kiss, then leaned their foreheads together, eyes closed and little “ah, ah” noises with every movement.

One hand slid up so Cas could tangle his fingers in Dean’s hair, pulling along with the rocking of his hips, biting on his lower own lip to muffle too-loud cries that kept trying to escape his throat. Finally, Cas ducked his head to bury his face in the crook of Dean’s neck with an only half-muffled shout at a particularly good thrust against his prostate: “MMH!”

For his part, Dean seemed to be enjoying the entire thing thoroughly—both because it was pleasurable for him, obviously, but also because Cas was on the verge of absolutely losing his shit. He wasn’t entirely sure why, he would have to ask later, but for now he was just going with it because Cas in this state, coming completely undone, was absolutely freaking fantastic. Unbelievably hot.

“Fuck… fuck…!” Cas was actually cursing under his breath, hips rocking hard, now, heatedly, his own cock rubbing against Dean’s abdomen and just making everything even more intense. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He tightened his grip in Dean’s hair and hissed when Dean’s hands tightened at his hips in kind, the bruises there protesting the added pressure.

When he came a moment later, Cas pressed close to Dean and kept his face buried in the older man’s neck, crying out loudly as he painted both their stomachs with slick come. But Dean wasn’t quite there—however, before Cas could pick up his movements again, Dean grabbed at him and flipped them over, pushing Cas down into the mattress and settling over him, starting to fuck him hard and deep.

Cas just moaned, head back against the pillows, gasping for air while Dean took his pleasure—and finally came a couple minutes later, hips jerking and shoving against Cas’s, holding deep for a few breaths before Dean pulled away and rolled to the side, settling beside his boyfriend, panting for air.

“What was… that about?” Dean swiped a hand through his hair and turned his head to look at Cas curiously, still breathing hard.

“Oh, fuck, I just…” Cas had one arm flung up over his eyes, his own chest still heaving, and it occurred to him that there had been no condom this time, either. He didn’t bother to mention it. “In that… position… God, Dean, every single little movement just… rubbed on my prostate, jammed against it…” Lowering his arm, he turned his head to give Dean a breathless grin, “it all felt incredible, I… just. Wow.”

Dean grinned back, rolling onto his side to face Cas and folding his arm under his head. “That was a happy accident.”

Cas laughed. “Yeah, definitely.” He took a few deep, grounding breaths, then, and smiled when Dean’s free hand slid across his chest to rest over where his heart was beating, still a little quick. Cas brought one of his own hands up to cup Dean’s jaw gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Cas.” Dean’s reply was warm, and he eased closer against Cas’s side, slinging an arm over his boyfriend’s chest with a chuckle, “with the swearing, this time. It must’ve felt good.”

“So good.” Cas agreed, still smiling at Dean fondly. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your prostate.” Cas clarified, “you know you have one, too, right?”

“Well… yeah, but…” Dean balked and actually began to pull away a little—

—until Cas rolled over and pulled him closer again, wrapping him up in his arms. He bumped their foreheads together lightly, gentle affection. “I was just asking if you were curious. You don’t ever have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Dean.” Then he offered a little, lopsided grin and added, “it does feel amazing, though.”

A small frown and Dean sighed but allowed: “I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

“Or never.” Cas assured him. “Never is fine, too.”

Dean closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. “I guess I have some hangups.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The younger man kissed back with a hum and squeezed his arms around Dean in a hug, “so what are we going to do today?”

“More of this? A whole day of this? Just the two of us tangled up in bed together all day long?” Dean suggested, the grin returning to his face, but then he dropped another brief kiss against Cas’s lips and added, “seriously though, first we should probably get cleaned up and then go get some breakfast. After that I was thinking we might hit up the botanical gardens… like another proper date, you know?”

That made Cas smile. They hadn’t been on a date since their first one in Jacksonville seven months ago. It was incredibly sweet of Dean to even think of it, all things considered. He sighed contentedly and pressed closer into Dean’s chest. “That sounds perfect, Dean.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Dean smiled back at him. “It’s a plan, then.”

-- --

They cleaned up together and absolutely had sex again in the shower, not that anyone involved was surprised when it happened. Once they were done, out, clean and dry, they both got dressed with relative swiftness and soon they were ready to head out the door.

After that it was back to Phil’s where they ordered—well—lunch, because it was so late, and ate and talked amongst themselves while they were there. This time the diner had pie in stock, so Dean got a slice of blueberry for them to share. The same as the last time they had shared a piece of pie, Cas took a single bite and left the rest to Dean because he clearly loved it at least as much as he loved Cas himself. Cas found it so endearing that he wasn’t even jealous, even though he probably should have been.

Once they were done eating, they walked to the botanical gardens with directions from Cas’s phone, and Dean expressed his surprise that two men could walk hand-in-hand down the street in Texas without getting straight-up shot. Cas was happy to inform him that, actually, the majority of Texans supported same-sex marriage and anti-discrimination laws. Dean had choked on his own tongue slightly at the word “marriage”, making Cas smile to himself, amused.

The botanical gardens, when they eventually got there, were sprawling and beautiful, but while Cas appreciated everything about them it was clear from the very start that Dean was bored out of his mind. He continued to follow Cas, though, Cas tugging on his hand gently to lead him around and stopping to read all the little informational plaques that they came across.

Finally, they found themselves at a section of the gardens that contained a decorative fountain and a couple of benches for seating, and Dean pulled Cas over to sit on one of them, needing a break from all the… greenery.

“I like it here.” Cas said, not necessarily to Dean, more to no one in particular. He looked around them, then up at the sky with a smile. “It’s like the Garden of Eden or something. It’s so peaceful and beautiful.” He turned his attention to Dean at that point, expression full of obvious content. “Having you here with me just makes it even better. Thank you for bringing me here, Dean.”

“Technically google brought us here.” Dean returned Cas’s smile with one of his own. “Not gonna lie, this really isn’t my thing. But I thought you’d like it, so…”

“You were right.” Leaning over, Cas pressed a kiss by Dean’s jaw gently. “But we don’t have to stay. I know you’re bored, and we’ve been here nearly two hours already.” Standing, he reached one hand out toward Dean for him to take; “come on, let’s get out of here. We can go back to the motel and find a bad movie to watch on television.”

Dean laughed and took his hand, pushing to his feet as well. “I’m sure we can find something on Pay-Per-View. And maybe we can order pizza for dinner tonight, instead of going to the diner again.”

Cas nodded. “I like all of these ideas.”

Dean grinned as they headed out. “You haven’t even heard all the ideas I’ve got for sex, yet, either.”

-- --

The only worthwhile movie that was playing on Pay-Per-View was the remake of Dawn Of The Dead, and Dean simply could not watch it without bitching. Cas actually found it amusing and somewhat adorable, all his opinions on films, though he didn’t understand a lot of Dean’s criticisms since he wasn’t familiar with the original, and after a while Dean really started to get himself worked up.

Eventually, Cas started pulling him into kisses just to shut him up and distract him—and it worked. Soon enough, the two of them were fully making out, Cas stretched out on his back on the little couch in the living area with Dean overtop of him, one leg pushed up between his thighs as they kissed until they couldn’t even breathe. The movie played on in the background, completely forgotten.

When they eventually parted to gasp for air, Dean ducked in to kiss along Cas’s throat, nipping gently here-and-there, and Cas let his own hands wander up under Dean’s shirt, nails scraping lightly along heated skin.

“God, I knew I missed you, but I almost literally can’t stop touching you.” Dean muttered against Cas’s neck.

Cas just made a quiet agreeing noise in his throat. He had come here expecting them to have sex, yes, but not in the sheer volume that they had been having it since he’d arrived. A couple of times, maybe, but not the going-on-six in twenty-four hours that they were currently at.

Not that he was complaining. It was amazing, and evidently Dean felt the same way, if his enthusiasm was anything to go by. Cas figured they were just making up for missing each other the last seven months, and clocking in memories to get them through the next span of time between visits. (Hopefully less than another seven months.)

“So was your Dad disappointed that you turned out to be ‘just another horny teenage boy’?” Dean asked with a grin, biting on his earlobe—and it caught Cas so by surprise that he laughed, head back and fingers digging into Dean’s sides slightly, shoulders shaking. Dean pushed up on his arms to grin down at him. “You were worried about that, once, remember?”

Cas smiled widely up at him. “I’m not anymore. Especially if this weekend is any indication.” He pulled, then, tugging Dean back down over himself and leaning in to kiss him again. “Not that I plan on telling him any details.”

“Chuck’s head would explode, I think.” Dean murmured into the kiss. “We don’t want to explode your Dad.”

“No, we don’t want that…” Cas sighed against his lips… and then they were making out again, warm and slow becoming hot and heavy in no time, the two of them completely tangled up together, lost in each other, in the feel of moving against each other, even just with their clothes still on.

Not that they stayed on for long. Soon enough Cas was rucking up Dean’s shirt, urging him to take it off, and Dean pushed back just long enough to grab his tee by the back collar and yank it over his head. He tossed it off to the side before sliding his hands down to tug at Cas’s shirt as well, until the younger man sat up a little and allowed Dean to pull his shirt off as well.

Dean leaned down to kiss Cas again, but pushed Cas’s hands away when he immediately went to grab at Dean. “We need the lube,” He muttered against Cas’s lips. “I’ll go get it. You get your pants off.”

Cas fell back with a huff but nodded his agreement. Dean had a point. So, while Dean climbed off him and headed into the bedroom area, Cas undid his own jeans—then adjusted himself on the couch, considering, before standing and wandering after Dean. Dean was already out of his jeans and boxers, and just grabbing the lube off the nightstand. When he turned around to see Cas standing there, he gave a confused look.

Cas shrugged. “The couch is too small; we would’ve fallen off. The bed is better.”

“But louder.”

“Still better.”

Dean glanced between the bed and the couch before shrugging and climbing onto the mattress, gesturing for Cas to join him. Cas flashed a smile but took the time to get out of his own jeans and boxers before joining his boyfriend. Dean drew him up into his lap with a hum and Cas went along more than willingly, settling straddling the other man and leaning in to kiss him warmly.

This time when they started making out again it stayed warm and slow, the heat simmering just below the surface despite the fact that they were both already stripped bare, already hard. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, one hand up and tangled in Dean’s hair, and Dean’s own hands roamed up and down Cas’s sides, smoothing over his skin hotly, the lube discarded on the bed beside them for the time being.

It was a slower process this time, harkening back to their first couple times, when Dean had been in Jacksonville, and they had been having sex at Cas’s house, in Cas’s bed. Kisses and touches that brimmed with emotion that they, at the time, had been unable to express in words. Now they could find the words, but they also knew how to express themselves physically much more easily than back then. It seemed like a lifetime ago, really.

Cas’s arms unwrapped from around Dean’s neck, and he gave one more, gentle tug at Dean’s hair, his hands sliding down to rest against the older man’s chest, kneading there lightly as they kissed, deep and slow. Dean hummed into the kiss, his own hands rubbing up Cas’s back, then dragging back down before pulling Cas closer against himself, rocking his hips upward lightly.

A low moan and Cas began rocking his own hips, just little, light movements, and kissed Dean deeply again before pulling back and leaning their foreheads together, licking his lips absently. “Dean…” He swallowed, paused, then finally murmured almost shyly, “…make love to me.”

And Dean paused at that because oh. But there was such hesitance and earnestness in Cas’s blue eyes that he couldn’t do anything except agree. Not that he wouldn’t have agreed anyway. He would happily agree to just about anything for Cas. Dean offered a soft, utterly smitten smile and whispered, “I can do that, Cas.”

Cas gave a sigh of relief, still looking a touch shy, and leaned in for another soft kiss. Dean returned the kiss just as gently—then carefully nudged Cas out of his lap, settling him on the bed before grabbing for the lube and setting about the task of getting Cas stretched out, the process long and slow and drawn-out this time, until Cas was arching and writhing, head back and hands fisting in the blankets, pulling at them. Until he was an absolute panting mess.

Dean was so, so achingly hard, but ignored his own need until Cas was pleading with him, at which point he finally settled himself between Cas’s legs and pushed his cock into the younger man’s body, slow and deep.

He was still for a minute, then, giving Cas time to adjust, his weight resting on one arm and the opposite hand sliding warmly up and down Cas’s hip and thigh, and leaned down to kiss Cas gently. Cas returned the kiss with a little whine and a rock of his hips. Dean took the hint and began to move.

They moved carefully together, easing into a slow, deep rhythm. Cas’s legs came up to wrap around Dean’s hips loosely and his hands lifted to grab at Dean’s sides, fingers digging in just slightly, then sliding around to knead at the small of his back. Dean ducked in to kiss along Cas’s shoulder to the crook of his neck, then lifted up a little again to draw Cas into another kiss.

Cas kissed back with a low moan, muffled against Dean’s lips, then broke away to let his head fall black, leaving his throat free for Dean to plunder. He continued rolling his hips, hands holding Dean close against him, and panted out, “oh, God… Dean, this is… ah… perfect…!”

“You’re perfect…” Came Dean’s reply, muffled against Cas’s neck. “You feel amazing, Cas… every damn inch of you…”

Dean was a versatile lover; Cas was very quickly learning. He could roll with just about anything. But this—this—was something he was particularly good at, somehow, for some reason. Cas wasn’t about to question it right now.

Everything was heat and passion, the two of them completely wrapped up in each other, and it seemed to go on forever. This was exactly what Cas had wanted—what he had been asking for, and he didn’t regret asking a single bit. He just soaked in everything Dean was giving him, absorbed it into himself and gave back what he hoped was at least an iota of what he was receiving.

A hand slid down his thigh, rubbing heatedly, and Cas tightened his legs around Dean’s hips with a little, choked whine when the movement pulled Dean deeper into himself. Dean just moaned and buried his face in the crook of Cas’s neck again, panting there breathlessly as he began fucking into Cas a little harder, a little faster, working them both toward completion.

When Cas came a few too-short moments later it was with a sharp cry, back arched, head pushed back into the pillow and mouth working as he gasped for air. He continued to cling to Dean with all his tingly-loose limbs while the other man kept thrusting into him for another short time—and then tensed, his grip on Cas’s thigh tightening as he came as well, a short shout in his throat.

Then Dean was sinking down over Cas, settling against his chest, leaving Cas to ease his legs back down to the bed with a huff. The younger man continued panting, but stroked his hands up and down Dean’s back, rubbing warmly, affection on a level he didn’t give to anyone else.

It was another few minutes before Dean finally pulled out of him and rolled to the side to land on his back with a huff. Cas just rolled over as well, tucking himself into Dean’s side and throwing an arm across him with a little pleased noise. “That... was amazing.”

“You know we have done that before. Several times. Several times this weekend.” Dean joked.

“Not like that, though.” Cas protested softly.

“…no. We’ve only—made love—that one other time.” Dean conceded. “At your place just before I had to leave. And it’s…” He trailed off for a moment, considering, before giving Cas a smile, just a little, fond quirk of his lips, “I think it’s the best way we have sex. We should do it more often.”

“I feel very… close to you. When we make love like that.” Cas admitted, voice still quiet, as if he were afraid of breaking whatever spell had come over them, “emotionally, I mean, as well as physically. It’s an entirely different experience than when we’re just…” He trailed off, then, searching for the word.

“Fucking?” Dean suggested with a chuckle.

Cas sighed but made a quiet agreeing noise. “Yes, exactly.”

He really wasn’t a fan of that term for it, even if it was accurate—even if he had used that word himself already over the course of their weekend together. Cas supposed sometimes there was just no other way to put it, even if ‘fucking’ made it sound so… animalistic, almost. Base. Which it could be, granted, but he still had a complicated relationship with that word. He didn’t even like to use it as a curse.

Dean’s hand rubbed against his back, just gentle and warm, and after a brief silence he asked, “what’re you thinking about?”

“Mm…” Cas closed his eyes, his own hand touching absently along Dean’s chest, the pads of his fingers feeling along the shallow scars the jorogumo had left behind on him months ago, too. “Nothing, really, just… this weekend has been…” Trailing off, he gave a soft laugh and turned his head to press a kiss by Dean’s collar bone. “A lot. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“I know, right?” The older man grinned up at the ceiling, amusement all over his voice, “and we still have another whole day to go.”

“You’re enjoying this too much, Dean.” Cas accused fondly.

“Wha—come on! Aren’t you?” Still grinning, Dean tilted his head to look at Cas properly and tightened his arm around him slightly. “I know you aren’t hating it.”

“No,” Cas allowed, a little smile on his face again, “I’m definitely not hating it.” When Dean angled for a kiss he returned it with a laugh, “but I am going to be completely exhausted by the time I leave Monday morning.”

“Mmhm,” Dean hummed into the kiss, already rolling over to press Cas into the mattress again, “I can live with that.”

-- --

Men reached peak sexuality at about their age and Cas was pretty sure they were a prime example of that fact. They spent all of Saturday night and most of Sunday wrapped up in each other, making up for lost time and stockpiling memories to last them until the next time they could meet up. It was good to be young.

There were, of course, occasional breaks to get cleaned up (not that it ever lasted long) or for food, or just to watch television together (as long as it wasn’t the Dawn Of The Dead remake) and cuddle on the too-small couch, but in general they spent their time in the creaky bed, which Cas was actually starting to become fond of—except for the times that they had sex in the shower, or when Dean fucked him over the little kitchenette table.

Really, they had joked about it, but even if he had told his father about the goings on that weekend, he doubted his father would have believed him.

“I’m sorry,” This came from Dean, who was spooned up behind him, one hand rubbing gently against Cas’s hip.

They were cuddled up together on the bed now, in the wee hours of the morning Monday morning. They really should have been asleep—Cas had to be up to catch the bus downtown at six—but neither one of them wanted to miss even a moment of time they could have been spending together. Besides, Cas could just sleep on the bus, and Dean could always come back to the motel and crash after he was gone.

Cas made a surprised noise and glanced over his shoulder. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Your hips.” Dean clarified, fingers touching along the still-darkening bruises there lightly, “I was too rough. I bruised them up.”

“You did,” Cas agreed, and rolled over to face him, tilting his head to drop a kiss against Dean’s lips. “But to be fair I initiated a couple of those times, so it’s my fault, too. Anyway, they’re not bad. They only hurt a little, and they’ll heal up in no time.” Then, just to be clear; “you weren’t too rough. You were just right.”

“This isn’t a Goldilocks thing, Cas, I hurt you.”

“You did not. I’m fine.” Cas rolled his eyes and pushed at Dean until the other man rolled onto his back, then climbed on top of him, flinging a leg over him to straddle his hips and leaning down to kiss him again. “Here, I’ll show you how fine I am…”

Dean chuckled into the kiss but then reluctantly slid his hands up Cas’s legs to push at him gently. “Cas,” Another kiss, then, “Cas, seriously, we can’t, we—” When Cas pulled back a little, Dean gave him an apologetic look, “we don’t have time. It’s after four-thirty and we have to get you to the bus station for six…”

Something sad flickered in Cas’s eyes before shuttering off again, and he sat back against Dean’s hips, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Dean was right. They still needed to shower and get dressed, and walk to the bus station—or, he did, anyway, and he assumed Dean would insist on coming with him.

Frowning to himself, Cas shifted off of Dean and tucked himself close into the older man’s side. Dean wrapped an arm around him without a word of protest. They did have enough time for this—for a few more, brief moments of intimacy—the emotional kind. Cas nuzzled into Dean’s chest just by his collar bone and closed his eyes.

“I don’t want to go.” He said finally, voice soft and sad.

“I know,” Dean replied, the hand resting on his side rubbing there gently; reassuring, grounding; “I don’t want you to go, either. If I could take you back with me, I would, but my Dad—” He broke off, but Cas knew. And besides, Dean would never actually want to subject him to the life of a Hunter, or a Hunter’s family.

“What if neither of us went back?” He suggested, tone a strange mix between joking and serious, “what if we just… stay here, in Amarillo. It’s a nice town. Accepting. We could make a life for ourselves, here.”

“You have school coming up,” Dean reminded him softly, “a whole future. Friends and your Dad and… and everything.”

“And I’d give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant being able to be with you.” Cas murmured, just as softly. He hesitated then, one hand tracing absently against Dean’s chest, before asking, “you know Sam once said to me that he thought you would give up Hunting for me, if I asked you to. Is that true?”

There was a long, long silence from Dean following that question. Cas could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. He was just about to dismiss it entirely and change the subject when Dean spoke up again, just quietly, to answer his question; “yes, it’s true.”

Cas paused at that. Blue eyes opened and he looked off into the darkness of the room, his hand stilling against Dean’s chest, just over his heart. “It’s very tempting.” He admitted finally, “the idea of you quitting Hunting and us just being able to… be.” Then his hand began to move again, fingers toying absently with Dean’s pendant, and he continued, “but I could never ask that of you, I told Sam that at the time, too. You… I think a part of you needs to Hunt. For your family. For yourself. I understand that. If you stopped for me, eventually you’d come to resent me for it, and I don’t want that. So… I’ll go and get on that bus and head back to Florida, and we’ll meet again in a couple more months. Right?”

When Dean responded he sounded like he was having trouble speaking, getting the words out; “how can you always be so selfless? How can you always, always be thinking about me over your own wants and your own needs?”

A little smile. Cas lifted his head to look up at Dean through the dark. “That’s what you do when you love someone as much as I love you.”

Dean looked back at him for a moment—then leaned to kiss him gently. “I love you, too, Cas. So much. Thank you for being so understanding.”

“What else can I be?” Cas smiled fondly before finally pushing away and sitting up, stretching his arms over his head for a moment. Then he climbed out of the bed and held a hand out toward Dean. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up. I have a bus to catch and I’m making you walk me to the station.”

A chuckle from Dean, but he allowed himself to be pulled up as well. “Don’t gotta make me, Cas, I was already planning on it.”

-- --

The walk to the bus station downtown was made mostly in silence, the two of them walking quietly, hand-in-hand down the street, Cas with his backpack hiked over one shoulder, neither of them showing the wear from the weekend, though Cas was sure as soon as he was on the bus and the vehicle was moving, he would basically pass out. He just hoped he didn’t miss any of his stops or transfers.

Dean was staying in town for one more night before heading back to California to meet up with his dad and Sam, who, by that time, should have taken care of the whole 1426 F Street thing. Then they would be on to the next town, the next job, and Cas would be back to trying to track Dean’s meandering path all across the country.

When they arrived at the station, they were a few minutes early, so Cas took the time to raid the vending machines for food: a couple of pre-packaged sandwiches, bags of chips, chocolate bars and bottled water that he crammed into his backpack along with his dirty clothes. Enough to get him by for the next twenty-four hours on the bus, hopefully, though he could always buy more at one of his layovers if he had to.

Then he sat next to Dean on a bench and waited for his bus to pull in, close against the other man’s side with his head resting on Dean’s shoulder. Neither of them had actually said ‘goodbye’ yet, they were procrastinating over it, but they knew it was coming and both of them were dreading it.

It was hard, parting ways like this, especially not knowing when they would be able to meet up again. This time it had taken seven months before Dean could get away from his family for a weekend, what if next time it took longer? Nine months? A year? Their whole lives could get away from them at that rate, and Cas… he hated it. All he wanted to do was ask Dean to quit Hunting for him, but what he’d said was true, he knew eventually Dean would grow to resent him for it if they went down that road, and that was the last thing he wanted. Still, it was tempting.

The thought of having a normal, apple-pie life with Dean was… well, it was a pipe dream, of course, but it was also so, so nice. Cas was happy when he was with Dean, comfortable and relaxed in ways that he wasn’t around anyone else. It helped that having Dean around kept the nightmares at bay, too. He knew as soon as he was away from the other man’s presence, they would come back full force. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

“You look like you’re doing some serious thinking.”

“Hm?” Cas blinked out of his thoughts and lifted his head to smile at Dean, “just thinking about my dreams, how you keep the nightmares away.” He shrugged slightly, “still don’t know why, but you’re the best dreamcatcher out there.”

Dean reached to take hold of his hand, squeezing gently. “I’m glad I help, even if I’m not there all the time.”

“Not all my dreams are bad anymore,” Cas assured him, tangling their fingers together and giving a squeeze of his own, “some of them are just weird. In one I’m drinking coffee in a restaurant, but it’s like… a thousand restaurants all at the same time, they’re just all identical? Restaurants within restaurants within restaurants. I don’t know. But a lot of them are still… yeah. Not great. On the bus here a couple days ago I nodded off and dreamed that someone cut open my stomach and reached inside with their bare hands and pulled out a… stone. A big, flat stone. And I could feel every second they were ripping into me, it was…”

“God, Cas,” Dean tipped his head to press a kiss against his temple and Cas sighed softly. “Where does your brain even come up with that stuff?”

Another shrug. “No idea. All I know is I don’t get much sleep a lot of the time. So, when I’m with you and you’re chasing the dreams away, however you’re doing it, it’s just… it’s really, really nice. Something I appreciate, even though I know you’re not doing it on purpose.”

“No, but I’m glad I’m helpful, anyway.”

“Mm.”

“I still have that piece of chalcedony you gave me,” Dean told him with a smile, “I sleep with it under my pillow, along with Dad’s bowie knife. I think it helps. But that could just be because it’s from you.”

Cas returned his smile with one of his own, “I’m glad. You know, I—”

And then the announcement came over the loudspeaker that Cas’s bus had just pulled in and would be boarding momentarily. Cas broke off what he’d been about to say, deeming it unimportant, his smile turning sad around the edges. He stood from his seat and waited for Dean to do the same, leaving his backpack on the floor for the time being.

“Cas, I…” Dean began, then trailed off and simply pulled the younger man into a hug, wrapping him up in his arms and holding him tight. Cas hugged back, hands grabbing at the back of Dean’s jacket like he never wanted to let go—probably because he didn’t. And why was saying goodbye this time so much harder than saying goodbye last time had been? “I’m going to miss the hell out of you.” Dean finished finally, voice coming out rough.

Cas nodded, face buried in the crook of Dean’s neck and fighting back the tears that were in his eyes, threatening to spill over. “Yeah, me too.” He sniffed softly and carefully released his hold on Dean, who brought one hand up to cup Cas’s jaw, thumb rubbing along his cheek gently. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Promise.” Dean leaned in for a kiss and Cas returned it, the tears finally overflowing. When they pulled back Dean wiped them away softly and bumped their foreheads together. “I love you, Cas.”

A weak smile. “I love you, too, Dean.”

The call for his bus to start boarding. Cas sniffed again and stepped back from Dean, trying to keep a smile on his face—but it was completely undermined by the fact that he was still crying. He stooped to pick up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder. When he straightened again, it was to give a little surprised noise when Dean pulled him into another kiss—this one deep and full of longing. Cas fell into it and returned it in kind until the next call for his bus, at which point he had to pull away.

“Goodbye, Dean.” He said, swallowing, “less than seven months next time, right?”

Dean nodded, and his own voice came out suspiciously thick when he confirmed, “right.”

Cas reluctantly left, handing over his ticket and climbing onto the bus, taking a seat near the back. He watched Dean through the window—the other man stayed where he was, eyes on him, until the bus pulled away and drove out of sight. Only then did Dean turn around and head back to the motel, alone.

He was already making plans to video call Cas the following day.

The End

[ja3gerb0mbb]

bloodsucker chapter 15: reconciliation

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word count: 3.3k

content warnings: none

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“jean, i think i might actually die,” i threw my fists onto my eyes; applying pressure to them. as if i wasn’t drowning in schoolwork before; i was now with the extra four classes i took on. making up work for the content i missed meant that i barely had time for any form of social life. 

he looked up from his textbook, “well, this is what you get for trying to finish two years of college in one.” for the past few weeks, jean had become my rock. the confidant i could tell all my vampire problems to. he also made a good study partner because he didn’t bother me as i worked. “yeah, i know.”

the visit with grisha was still fresh in my mind. like it was just yesterday eren and i went to the mansion. my anxiety was topped with the end of the semester work. it was easy to run away to germany with eren; but the reality of getting there was back-breaking. eren only had to take a couple extra classes to finish by the end summer, but i had to double it. 

on the drive home that night, we figured we might as well get our degrees. even though we truly didn’t need them; it felt like the right way to tie up our lives here with. at least, at the time it seemed like a smart choice. “i can’t believe you guys are really doing this, though,” jean grabbed my attention back, closing his book as i shut off my laptop. a quick break won’t hurt anyone. 

“i can’t either. but we’ve got it all planned out.” a smile i couldn’t hide appeared on my face. thinking of the life i had ahead with eren made all the work worth it. i knew the fear of grisha would follow us; but we hoped he himself wouldn’t. “did you plan to leave all of us behind?” jean joked, but his face was concerned. 

i laughed at him, “no, we planned that too. as long as grisha is away from shiganshina, it’s easy enough to visit you guys. and my dad.” with zeke as our ‘mole’ everything worked out perfectly. too perfectly. eren kept telling me i was paranoid; maybe i should start listening to him. i hoped the nerves would start to settle after finalizing the move.

his mood perked up instantly, “wait really?” his voice had gone a bit higher. i nodded my head. “i’m just glad you’re happy. eren too. i watched as vampirism took over his life, i was worried it would happen with you,” his features dipped back into a twinge of sadness. memories haunted both of us. 

but jean was right. i was happy like this. it might’ve been eren, or the vampirism, but it didn’t matter. i adjusted well and quickly, the amplified changes made everything easier. it was comforting having eren go through it with me. he made the biggest difference. sometimes i felt like nothing was even real; like i was in a coma and this was all just a dream. 

the door to my room swung open with a loud thud, drawing me out of my thoughts, “hey slut!” connie squealed, pitching his voice to sound like a girl. he jumped from his spot in the doorframe, tackling my sitting body to the floor completely.

i was aware of the pressure his body weight put on me, but it didn’t register as being painful. “do you really have to tackle me every time you see me?” i complained. he lifted himself above me, extending his arms to read my face, “course i do!” he said it like it was obvious.

sasha stood a few paces behind us, “we’re going to the beach,” she interrupted, high pitch in her tone. in a swift movement connie jumped off of me, standing on his own feet again. going over to jean, he ruffled his hair, earning a hard slap to the arm from him, “cut it out,” jean bit. 

they didn’t distract me for long, “no way, we’re literally balls deep in finals.” the workload was so heavy, i don’t think i could even have fun without feeling guilty about it. i really am starting to regret this. connie started snickering,  “your boyfriend’s waiting in the car.” he continued to torment me with kissing noises; but the mention of eren was all i needed to ditch my studies. 

“kay, fine, but we can’t stay long,” i heaved a sigh, showing dramatics to guilt trip sash and connie. jean gave a light hearted scoff, “what were you saying about finals?” rolling my eyes, i hit his shoulder hard as i quickly leapt up from my spot on the hard floor. 

i didn’t wait for any of them to catch up as i made my way down the apartment complex; running towards eren’s car as soon as i spotted it. throwing the car door open, i all but jumped in, skipping over the center console to be closer to eren. 

eren’s face lit up, eyes glinting. he pushed my body back slightly with the force of his own, cupping my face as he pressed a kiss into my lips. i melted into him easily; the feeling of eren comfortably familiar now. he opened his mouth wide, trying to suck as much of me in as he could. a smile tugged on my lips at his desperation, causing him to pull back. 

he scanned my face, then trailed down my body. making sure i was still in tact, “i missed you so much, pretty.” he pulled my face to him again, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. i couldn’t hold back my giggle; just happy to see him, “stop with the pet names,” i complained but the butterflies were strongly present in my stomach. i couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, either. 

a shuffling in the back seat caused my head to turn. i faced armin, features slightly scrunched in awkwardness. i looked away, hiding my embarrassment, “sorry armin, didn’t even know you were here,”

eren laughed viciously, “armin don’t pull the uncomfortable act, you were doing the same with annie.” armin’s face lit up a bright red, his eyes going wide. “what? no- i wasn’t!” he tripped over his words; trying to profess an innocence i didn’t have to see to know was false. “okay, freak your shit armin,” i butted in, watching his face turn impossibly redder. 

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jean waved a bucket of fries in my face, “you sure you don’t want any?” i pulled my body away from the stench, further into eren's body. his legs closed around my torso, holding me tighter at my movement. “it’s really not funny,” i pushed jean’s hand away. armin and mikasa were huddled on a different set of blankets, exchanging a look at my refusal. 

it was moments like this that proved to me it was a good idea to run away with eren. our closest friends were already getting suspicious of my behavior. eren stroked through my hair with his fingers; futile as the wind kept blowing it in every direction. 

mikasa shivered, “why the hell did we go to the beach, anyway?” her teeth jittered lightly. i was thankful my body kept me from feeling most of the chill. eren pointed to the shoreline; where sasha and connie splashed each other in the ocean, “it was connie’s idea.”

“we need to stop listening to him,” armin's head shook. mikasa raised the bottle of vodka in her hand and took another shot from it. she extended it to me after. i stared at it for a few seconds before looking over at eren. he had a small smirk on his face; knowing i would never get drunk again. despite that fact, i raised it to my lips and took a long swallow from the bottle. 

the liquid was warm going down my throat. but only for a second as my body seemed to neutralize the heat. the normally sour sting of vodka was amplified; almost unbearable. i brought the bottle back down and scrunched my features together. armin laughed, “i’m not the only lightweight anymore, huh.”

skipping over eren, i passed it to jean, “can it, i’ll catch back up soon.” i tried to keep the frown from showing, knowing that i would never catch up. the taste was subsiding, and there were no other signs that i had even consumed alcohol. mikasa stood from their towel, grabbing it up as armin followed, “we’re gonna warm up by the cars,” she wrapped it around her body, hiding the shiver. 

“‘kay, we’ll wrap up here soon,” eren responded before tying his hands to my body again. jean laid back on his towel as his shivers subsided with the alcohol, “so you really can’t get drunk?” 

“nope,” i sighed my answer, leaning into eren further. 

“damn, that must really suck,” he smirked, exchanging a glance at me, then eren. connie and sasha had emerged from the water, their screams becoming less muffled as they approached. connie broke into a sprint, heading towards jean. he was already laughing in preparation, before shaking his body violently; dripping all of the ocean water on jean.  

jean jumped up immediately, “fucking asshole!” he yelled, already beginning to chase a fleeing connie. sasha giggled as she ran after them; arms held out to jean. my chest heaved with a laugh, bumping up against eren’s, “dumbasses.” 

laying my head flat on his chest, my phone ringing caused me to retract it right back. 

(xxx)-929-6785:

could we meet at the cafe?

my eyebrows furrowed, and i could feel eren lurch in curiosity behind me. “the fuck?” i muttered lightly, more to myself. i knew who that number belonged to; even if i didn’t have it saved anymore. why would she be texting me? 

“who is it?” eren laid his hand over my shoulder; to offer comfort, or draw me out of my thoughts, i wasn’t sure. “it’s historia?” i mumbled again in confusion, but eren heard it. i held my phone screen so he could read the message; i felt him stiffen slightly. “you should go,” he was confident, barely had to think about it. 

his grip on my shoulder squeezed in reassurance. i knew he was right; and i would regret not meeting with her. but i couldn’t help but feel like i was fifteen again; insecure and cleaning to the comfort of historia. no, i thought, i’m not doing it for that. 

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i stood outside of the coffee shop an hour later, hesitating to go in. eren waited in the parking lot, it would be easy enough to go back. i wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity, though, and that thought is what let me open the doors and walk in. 

her blonde hair was easy to spot, she looked over to me almost immediately. a hesitant smile was on her face, unsure if she should even be smiling. it was weird to see that expression directed towards me; it had been so long since we had really looked at each other. she didn’t have any coffee in front of her, just her hands that were intertwined with each other. 

i sat down opposite her, mimicking her facial expressions. just as unsure as she was. we made awkward eye contact again, “hey,” my tone was quiet, not sure of what to say. her lip twitched, “i wanted to reach out, when hitch told me about the break in, but.. it just felt false.”

historia seemed somewhat nervous, spouting words without really thinking them through. i didn’t know what to say, so i nodded instead. we both looked at each other uncomfortably again. it was hard to believe we had once been inseparable; now we passed for two strangers. “i, um- i’m really sorry,” she began again, stuttering over her words with uncertainty. 

“for what?” i couldn’t help but probe. there was a lot for us to apologize for, but i wondered what part of the story historia was even sorry for. maybe this was a bad idea. “for sleeping with porco,” her tone was finally definitive. definitely a bad idea. hearing those words caused me to pick at my cuticles. it didn’t bring me any relief, as my skin stitched itself together quickly. 

i sighed, “that’s really not what i need an apology for,” i said it quietly. suddenly, i was submissive in her presence. like i still had something to show for. each of us stood still, breathing audibly, “why now? we’ve been going to sina together for two years?”

she shrugged, somehow still making the action look delicate, “i heard you might be transferring. didn’t want a stone to go unturned.” i couldn’t gauge how that made me feel. i guess i should be happy she didn’t want me to leave without a resolution? after we move, i likely won’t see historia again. how does that make me feel? i still couldn’t decipher it. “how do you know?”

“it’s obvious when you pick up extra classes at the end of the year,” she humorlessly laughed. if i didn’t know her any better, i’d say she was hurt. it made it even more apparent that i shouldn’t mend the friendship we once had. “guess so,” shrugging, i looked away from her gaze. 

historia sucked in a breath, “but i am sorry.. for everything that went down between us, it’s all my fault.” it was easy to believe her; but i wasn’t naive. does this mean she truly did love me all those years? i couldn’t bring myself to ask. “it isn’t all your fault, but i forgive you,” i tried to keep my voice steady. 

hearing that from historia finally felt like a book closing. i felt like i could finally move on from that chapter in my life. i got up from the booth, ready to return back to my present life. “hey, y/n?” historia pulled me back in, still seated, “are we ever going to talk again?”

my steps faltered, the words sounding weird coming from her, “i don’t think so, no.” maybe if my life was different, i would run back to historia. instead, i took my leave to the exit, making my way back to eren. 

the cold air was comforting; i hadn’t realized how stuffy i had gotten in that booth. there was a small pressure gone from my back. the little bit of historia i had always carried around with me. i was happy for the closure; it made the move a definite choice. nothing was really keeping me here any longer. 

opening the door to eren’s car, i sat down, somewhat shell shocked. i was still absorbing the conversation; still taking all of it in. i was sure myself a year ago would be jumping for joy, and running back into hisotira’s comforting arms. “how’d it go?” eren broke the silence, tone walking on eggshells around me. i shrugged, unsure of how to unravel it to him. “that bad, huh?” he laughed through his nose. 

“it wasn’t bad, i just don’t know how to feel,” it was the truth. i couldn’t make sense of the emotions stirring in my stomach. “are you glad you listened to me?” he mocked, a goofy smile spreading on his face. i pushed his shoulder; which he didn’t budge from. 

i rolled my eyes, moving my neck with them, “i hate that you’re phrasing it like that, but yeah.” eren pulled the gear shift down into drive, “i have something that’ll brighten your mood.” his hand found mine, interlocking our fingers, and giving my palm a squeeze. “what?” i tried to fight the smile on my face. 

“it’s a surprise,” he dragged the words out, taunting me. “come on, just tell me!” eren turned his focus on navigating the road, already starting to tune my pleas out, “it’s not a telling-thing… trust me you’ll want to see it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the blindfold eren tied to me was beginning to irritate me. “is it ready yet?” i asked, although i could still hear his fingers clicking on the laptop. i heard him grunt, and i knew he was rolling his eyes, “i don’t understand how you have so little patience.” his hand pushed against my back, throwing me off-kilter. 

i groaned, “i don’t like being blindfolded.” eren’s breath grazed the side of my neck “really?” he whispered in my ear. a shiver went down my spine, and i clenched my legs together to hide the reaction before pushing him back with my elbow. “okay, fine. done,” he chuckled. 

eren pulled the blindfold off, tussling my hair in the process. i didn’t have time to fix it, eyes focusing on his laptop screen in front of me. “eren, what is that,” although, i already knew the answer. it was a cottage; similar to the cabin he took me to. it was quaint; but cozy. the exterior was covered in lush vines, and it was surrounded by what looked like acres of empty land. 

“it’s a house. our house actually,” i peeked over at him. he was already staring into my eyes, a satisfied smile on his face. “OUR house?” my tone was obnoxiously confused. it was obvious we would need a house.. but eren took the time to find one himself. a perfect one; and it would be ours. the feeling was so surreal i couldn’t begin to describe it. 

eren laughed at my reaction, wrapping his hands around my waist and fiddling with my skin underneath my clothes, “well, yeah as long as you like it.” i flipped through more of the pictures, looking at the interior. the rooms were old fashioned; down to the kitchen appliances. “i love it.” 

the photos showed a closer view of the land around it, “there’s enough room for farmland, so we can own animals.” the next was a picture of a small brown barn. i couldn’t keep the smile off my face imagining what life would be like there, “really?” i still couldn’t believe it. “mhm,” he mumbled, a goofy grin still glued to his face. 

“are there vampires in germany?” i hadn’t thought about it. i suddenly wondered if we were trading in grisha for a worse masochist. “i can only assume so. but grisha was too caught up with the vampires here that he never cared to venture out,” it didn’t bring me much comfort. 

i turned my body to face eren fully, “it’s perfect,” i whispered, bringing my face closer to his. our lips connected, and his grip on my waist tightened. he picked up my body to position myself on his lap; i opened my mouth allowing his tongue to enter mine.

my hands traced up his body, stopping to grip his moving jawline. his hands made their way up my shirt, two fingers squeezing my nipple. i pulled back from him, letting out a soft moan. the thought hit me then, “what if you get tired of me?” i couldn’t help but voice it. 

his features turned serious in an instant, “i won’t,” he answered immediately, and confidently. when i thought about it, i hadn’t known eren for that long. it doesn’t matter, my mind contradicted. “you can’t know that.”

“i can,” he pulled his hand from underneath my shirt, cupping my cheeks while squeezing them lightly. “you’ve been on my mind longer than you know.. i’m not going to get tired of you,” i wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but it warmed my heart anyway. like a natural reaction.

i nodded, “i’m more worried you’ll get tired of me,” eren laughed, squeezing my cheeks even harder, squishing my lips together. “impossible,” i giggled, shaking off his grip. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

spotify playlist

[bambinotattoo]

Hello all my babies, bedwetters, pants wetters, adult babies, and etc etc. hi! Just me again. Your lonely diapered stinker Eric. I have been so down lately, really wanting to be babysat and can’t seem to find any one wiling to. Pretty common.

So this is the EXACT picture I posted to my Tattoo Business page Instagram. Lmfao. Talk about humiliation, but hey…weirder things have worked. I guess my thought process is “maybe one of my really good clients will be all like (awww. I want to help him). Of course, that’s a pipe dream. So the main conclusion I was afforded was the embarrassment of yet another “I wear diapers and am sissy diaper boy” screams from the rooftop.

The other day will working I did have a funny and embarrassing moment I thought all of you all would Appreciate.

In the middle of a session I got up to take a break and was stretching a little as my back was tightening up. While doing that one of the wings of my daytime diaper had become unhinged and was totally beginning to peak out! My daytime selection right now are AbUniverse Cushies. I like the low noise, thin design, and 2 tapes…and if I need too, I can always stuff with a booster. (Which I almost always do). My client that day was a mid twenties school teacher,we have worked together on several projects and have grown quite fond of each other. We had the open kind of dialogue between us that meant just about nothing was off limits. Now, most of my clients now of my diapers either from post like this, or from some hater trying to belittle me be spreading the word that I wear diapers. She was aware, but never talked about it. Until…

“Eric, I think…um…yea, I think your “dia—per is um, well…” and pointed at my waistline

Too my horror, before looking down I instinctively ran my hand down and swiftly tucked the crinkly tab back in and looked up blushing.

“I’m sorry, that happens sometimes. Lol”. I said

“No worries man, it’s all good. I just wasn’t sure how to say anything. Lol”. Jennifer replied

After a few awkward smiles and chuckles we sat back down and began to chip away at what we were working on. When out of nowhere she makes the bold decision to start asking questions…

“So, you really wear those everyday…huh. I mean like, if you don’t wear them, you would like…um, wet your pants?? I don’t mean to be offensive, I’m just curious” Jennifer asked inquisitively

“Lmfao, your fine. And your not being offensive in the least! But yes, that is the gist…I have been diaper dependent for quite a while. It sucks sometimes, but I have paved a way to make the best out of it…and try to not make it define me…unless I want it too!” I answered

“Unless you want it too? What do you mean by that?” Jennifer muffled with interest

“Over the years I have chosen to indulge in the ABDL side of things to help make the diapers more realistic and like enjoyable…if that makes sense” I answered to the best of my being

I was never very good at answering some of those question’s, I mean…yeA, I like being diapered now. I like being changed, baby powder, my wipe warmer, pacifiers, onsies etc etc. you all know how it is. But as soon as I start saying stuff like that to a normal person they immediately claim up and start thinking I’m weird or have some pedo issue. And, as you all know…that’s so far from the truth. At this point I had already started getting excited and antsy and should try and change the subject as soon as possible before I say something I will regret or that will make her turn cold on me. The next exchange blew even me away

“So, what’s this ABDL thing.?” She asked point blank while starring right through me

“It stands for ABDL, that’s Adult Baby Diaper Lover. It can encapsulate everything from someone like me who has to wear diaper, to someone who wants to…either for fun or sexual fetish reason. There is a wide spectrum to be honest. I fall on the weird side of it because I am really excited about being babysat, one day having a mommy, being dressed in toddler clothes, public humiliations, etc…but it is not a sexual thing for me.” I said almost forgetting to have some self check and blurted everything out like pee pee while I’m sleeping.

Jennifer sat there, quietly getting tattooed as I sit there starting to sweat knowing I had just said FAR TOO MUCH.

This is when I decided to try and run things back and salvage what’s left of my dignity lol

“Aww, I’m just playing with ya. Who would do that stuff?!?! Am I right!? Weirdos, that who”. Letting a forced stomach churning chuckle

“Yea, then why do you wear diapers that look like baby diapers? Why not something more conspicuous especially when your working? Jennifer said with no humor in your voice

There it was, to existential blow that would break the camels back. Called out, and in the worst possible way. No hiding it now…what had I done. We sat there in silence for a few seconds when the unthinkable happened.

“Eric, you know I’m just busting your balls, right? I think it’s great you have found a way to cope with your situation. Do you mind if I ask a few questions? Jennifer’s words like song birds in April

“Oh, chuckling, I knew that. Lol. And of course, you are free to ask anything you want!” Eagerly awaiting the curiosities

“So like, do you just wet them or do you like…” as I immediately blurted out

“Yes, oh yes…just pee pee. I have urinary incontinence or urge incontinence. Life long bedwetter, even now, and been having daytime accidents since my early teens. So yea, no number 2.” I immediately cleared that rumor

“Okay, cool cool. So what’s like your favorite baby thing or things to help you feel more normal”. “Not normal, I’m sorry, Eric your normal…lol”. Jennifer asked blushingly

This is where I needed to be straight forward and precise. No beating around the bush…and definitely no going to far. I have a horrid habit of over sharing when it comes to me diaper life

“I really love thick diapers. Thick diapers with booster pads, and LOTS of baby powder…I freaking love baby powder. I like onsies, they keep my diaper in place cause Eric doesn’t have an ass, lol”. I have grown fond of pacifiers and footed jammeies and would give my left arm to have a full time\live in Mommy to always change me, baby me, and hire me sitters when ever she went out”. As soon as I stopped talking, I knew I had over shared again.

To my surprise, Jennifer looked up sheepishly and started blushing… “okay, I think I get it. So are you wet right now”. Jennifer asked with the confidence of a seasoned caregiver eager to hike down my pants and perform a diaper check

“Um, oh gosh…well…lol…you seee what ha happened was…I kinda am always dribbling a little. That’s how it works. I don’t just pee all at once and it’s done. It weird to explain. I answered to the best of my ability

“Okay then, we can have you sitting in that stinky diaper Mr….do you have a change with you? Maybe a diaper bag”. Jennifer said smiling ear to ear

“Um, why?” I asked intently

“Because we don’t want you getting a rash on your bum bum, do we? Where’s your diaper stuff” Jennifer wipe eyes and bushy tailed

“Oh Jennifer, you don’t have to do that…really, it’s okay.” I clumsily whispered

“Did I ask for your permission, No…I asked for your diaper bag”. Jennifer now with extreme seriousness

I do as a matter or fact, keep a diaper bag with me most days. And that day was no different. However, I never kept daytime diapers in it, only my super banish thick diapers and a couple boosters. As well, I usually have a onsie in there too. Things were escalating very fast

“Okay, my diaper bag is by my backpack, in the corner.” I replied while my voice quickly changing frequencies

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere” Jennifer said as she grabbed my sissy bag and began rummaging through it

“Oh, wow…there are really pretty baby boy, all pink and thick. And what are these princesses? How cute, and what’s this? No way, is this a onsie?!?! That’s so fucking adorable!!! It matches the diaper perfectly! And what are these?” As she began to remove the three Rearz over night boosters from the bottom of my bag

“Those, are um…diaper stuffers, or boosters. To like make them thicker and more absorbent…and also to make the feel more like I’m wearing a thick baby diaper”. I began to almost feel sick to my stomach while answering. All the bad feelings, horrible comments, years or shame, and etc just poured out of me. I began to sob, uncontrollably apologizing for nothing just trying to catch my breathe. All the while, as always when I’m getting embarrassed my bladder started leaking pee pee and filling the remaining balance of the thin Cushie.

Jennifer immediately felt bad, coming to consult me and trying to calm me down.

“Oh Eric, I. So sorry…I was trying to be in to it, I wasn’t trying to make you feel some type of way…I’m so sorry” Jennifer said while rubbing my back.

After a few minutes I began to calm down, and we needed to get back to work. So I stood up to collect myself when Jennifer and I both got a surprise we weren’t expecting…

“Oh…baby, honey…you think, I know you may need to…yea” and pointed down towards my now soaked and LEAKING diaper.

Upset, embarrassed, and now I’m standing there 4 feet away, big wet spot from my crotch to my lower thigh. Maybe the worst leak I’ve EVER had…and now of all times. I again became upset, and frozen with fear. What happened next, will down as the most excited/most humiliated I’ve ever been at once

“Eric, baby boy…lay down” Jennifer said as if she uttered those very words before.

I just stood there speechless staring through her not sure how to move, when Jennifer put her hand back into my diaper bag and pullled put my pacifier. And before I had a chance to refuse, I was pacified, and directed to the floor where Jennifer began to un button my pants.

All I could do was lay there and suck my paci, I was in shock. Before too long I was laying there wearing nothing but a soaked diaper while my tattoo client for the day removed all the items for a diaper change.

“Okay buddy…please just lay there and stay calm. We’re going to get you out of that stinky diapee and into a fresh clean one with your cute booster pads and lots of powder, okay? And if your behave, I will let you wear your onsie too, does that sound good little boy?” Jennifer said with the confidence of an experienced adult baby nanny.

Jennifer had never changed an adult diaper…she was obviously out of her depths, but that didn’t stop her. She found the tabs on either side of my hip and pulled them free letting the cool air breeze over my very wet baby dick and socking wet diaper. I was starring at her figuring things out, and would normally jump in offering to help…since it was her first time doing this. But as I began to remove my pacifier and wipe some tears away she immediately snapped…put my paci back it and told me to settle down, and enjoy myself.

I did as I was told and again was starring at her as she got some wipes out and began to clean and cleanse my diaper area. She began wiping and moving things around while smiling devilishly, I knew she was enjoying my tiny baby dick. I have always had sitters, hell even my own mother tell me how adorable it is that my pee pee marched my need for diapers. I’m small. She continued to wipe and wipe me jumping every time to cold wipes touched me as I was used to the warm wipes from my warmer. She had me left my legs and butt and began to throughly clean EVERYTHING, even making a little comment about how it’s could I have a clean booty hole.

I was doing pretty good at starting the process of calming back down about the time she removed the soiled diaper and had me lift up to put the new Pink Princess diaper under me. Followed by not one, not two, but All three Boosters I had with me. I was going to waddle so bad. Before grabbing the powder, which she remembered I like a lot of…she grabbed one of my gloves and opened my tube of diaper rash ointment. I again looked at her, and she paid no attention. Only problem was, no I’m calm…and my brain is catching up to what is happening…about that time Jennifer is having a blast smattering me with oint. The ointment I have is some that kinda tingles in all the wrong ways when applied, and she was applying it EVERYWHERE. Just then, nightmares were realized when that little baby dick we mentioned, got to much attention from the wipes, and oint application and started growing.

“Oh. Well we’ll well. Look at that little bugger! Does baby Eric like when I rub his pee pee with diaper rash oint? Jennifer said while continuing to tease and arose me

Again, frozen…I through my pacifier said to just walk away and it will go down”

“What’s the fun in that.” Jennifer smiled and continued exploring my exposed private area

I haven’t been sexually active in several years. Just wasn’t my thing always diapered. So despite my penis becoming active it was all the way active. And after a few seconds Jennifer unprovoked from me told me too..

“Lift up those legs baby boy”

To which I complied totally helpless. Knowing exactly what was happening next. She slowly began to massage the edges of my anus gradually sticking more of her gloved fingers inside me. She looked up to make sure I was okay, and saw just my red teary face yearn for more and more. To which she complied. After a few moments she was 2 fingers deep and locating my prostate. It has been a while since being milked. To be honest, I did really enjoy the process ( one day I am gonna have a cS sitter, and I will have a dream come true, but till then…this was just fine.

She began to forcibly stick and poke my milk spot each pump and movement making me lift my ass up higher and higher…which brought Jennifer much excitement. After seeing how close I was getting, and how long it was taking she sheepishly said “it was cute I don’t have stamina…A diapered sissy shouldn’t”. At the same time to again grabbed my semi flaccid baby dick and began pumping it to the rhythm to which see was punching my prostate. The next thing I know, I see stars and almost black out. I open my eyes just in time to see her dodging the weak and plentiful squirts of baby boy sauce. It had been maybe 2 years since any orgasm at all. ANY. So to say I drained milk for a a few minutes would be an understatement.

Before I knew was happened it was over, my little butt hole red and on fire and my little pee pee still draining hot liquid all over me.

“What a good baby boy, now let’s get you cleaned back up and powdered so we can close this diaper before you have another accident”

Thanks for reading and enjoying this with me. As always, Eric needs a caregiver mommy. I am too cute not to be owned, damnit.

[the-professional-cocomeloner]

Augusnippets Day 14: Gifts/Celebration

Because God is dead, and they are still standing, and every day from this point onwards is a gift.

content warnings: - none, I don't think - ii ttake it back im sobinf theyre everything oh my god /silly

(link to Ao3 version)

@augusnippets

--

The weekend after God dies, they hold a celebration. 

Maybe just a party. Cecil insisted on calling it something fancier because the death of God was a big deal, so it should sound just as important as what it’s commemorating, but I’m trying to learn that maybe she isn’t right about everything, just… most things. 

…Shit. Don’t tell her I said that, or I’ll never hear the end of it. 

Really, though, contrary to Cecil’s assertions, it’s a lot more of a party than a celebration; for one, it’s small, since only the people who were there are here. ⍒ There isn’t really anyone else, anyways. ⍋ The decorations are pretty elaborate, but only because the SPIS bought out the whole party store and spent all of yesterday setting them up. 

Multicolored flags and streamers hang from every inch of ceiling, the plastic cups come with interesting patterns that I know Cecil can’t see but at least can feel, and in the middle of the table in the kitchen is a giant cake shaped vaguely how God looks in cartoons—because it would be pretty hard to translate a glowing ball of eyes and light and too many hungry teeth in icing—with red X’s over the eyes. 

Joan smirks at me from across the table, which makes me forget about the cake for a minute and feel like crying. Her being here, especially her making that face, an expression that’s so Joan, is in defiance to the order of things even moreso than my presence. Every day I’m reminded of how much stronger than me she is. 

“Holy shit,” Cecil laughs, a sound that fills my head and returns me to the moment, “‘t’s as big as me! How’re we s’posed ‘a eat this whole thing?” 

“Hungrily,” I reply, and the Virtue laughs again, a little sharper this time, and I don’t feel their elbow bumping against my ribs. At least they seem to be in the right place, because Cecil doesn’t react in the way that would suggest any of my anatomy’s wrong this time. 

“Also,” Jonah pipes, squeezing Adam’s hand a bit, “can y’ even, like, say ‘holy’ anymore? If, uh— God’s dead, an’ everythin’.” 

“Screw Him,” Joan says, a little hoarsely, and all eyes turn to her. She takes a breath, brow furrowing. Principalities weren’t meant to hold physical forms like this, and guilt swamps over me like a murky, all-consuming tidal wave in contrast to the bright decorations around us. “I say we talk ‘bout whatever ‘a fuck we want.” 

“Amen t’ that,” Lynn agrees, and a couple of giggles go up around the room. “So,” and now she turns to me and Cecil, “we already picked out a buncha songs to play, but I feel’ike you two should pitch in, too.” 

“Oh, Lynn, ya don’t know what you’ve just done,” Cecil starts to roll their eyes as I start forward, lips already pulling back into an evil grin. I hear a little yelp and stop abruptly, turning to realize my friend was holding my arm and I’d just almost made them lose their footing. 

⍒ Oops, sorry. ⍋ 

“He’s right, though,” I say as Cecil lets go, giving me a petulant look. “You’re gonna regret this decision.” 

“I work for you,” Lynn retorts with a narrow-eyed smirk, standing up to come closer to eye level. I know everyone here is still painfully aware of how dangerous it would be to act this way around a Dominion, if it were anyone but us, and yet there’s no taste of fear in the air. There’s a warring sensation in my chest at that thought, but the feeling of touch still hasn’t returned. “If I di’n’t build up a tolerance for The Cure,” Lynn continues, “I’d’a quit the second day.” 

“Got a point there,” I allow, managing a smile. 

“Okay, can we actually eat the cake now?” Adam asks. “I don’t know ‘bout you guys, but I’m starvin’ because someone—” he juts an accusatory thumb at Lynn and Joan, “—made us wait until y’ showed up so y’ could cut the first piece.” 

I straighten a little, unsure if my expression is surprised or blank when I meet my sister’s eyes. 

“Well, duh,” she grumbles, looking away in a more embarrassed-that-my-brother- actually-realized-I-respect-him than submissive-to-my-Evangelist way. “You’re kinda the whole reason we’re all alive an’ It isn’t. Only fair a ‘death a’ G-God—’” she stammers a bit with the word, still getting used to actually being able to say it again, “—party has the cake cut by the guy who actually killed Him.” 

“‘T’s a celebration,” Cecil whines quietly, and I decide to elbow him back this time. They give me a wounded look, melodramatically frowning and placing a hand to their chest. 

“Uh,” I glance at the faces of the others, “I don’t really have… a speech er anythin’ prepared.” 

“Thank G—” Adam catches himself, finishing in a slightly awkward rasp, “—Gophers.” 

“Idiot,” Jonah whispers affectionately. 

“You’re one t’ talk,” Adam hisses back. 

“Guys, come on,” Joan massages the ridges of her brows as though trying to dull an oncoming headache, starting to sound desperate. Lynn puts a hand in front of their mouth to hide their smirk. 

“Okay!” Believe it or not, I can take a hint. “Okay, cake-cuttin’ time! Right! Yes.” I ignore a muttered “Finally,” from Adam’s direction, devoting my energy into trying to find the cake knife. 

There’s a long pause. 

“Oh fer fuck’s sake,” Joan’s sudden hiss breaks the bated-breath silence, and the the skin on her arms ripples dangerously translucent for a moment. “Did no one remember a fuckin’ cake knife? Fer the cake?” 

A mixture of miserable groaning (Adam and Jonah) and hysterical laughter (Cecil and Lynn) erupts around me, though I find myself only able to frown at the cake. This is something I can puzzle out. If I can be Mark Bernard after he shattered and left me behind to rebuild myself, if I can kill God and live to throw a party with the people I care about afterwards, I can cut a stupid cake without a cake knife. 

“Hold on,” I say slowly, “I… got this.” 

Once again, all eyes are back on me, anticipation lacing the air. How lucky I don’t need to breathe. 

Cecil seems to be the only one who figures out what I’m planning to do before it happens, since he’s the only one who doesn’t gasp—or at least make any sort of surprised noise or expression—as the ink-tipped fingers of my left hand meld together into a sharpened blade the color of shadows at midnight. 

“…” Jonah’s eyes bug a little at the easily-deadly appendage, but what he says next catches me off-guard; “…Did y’ wash your hands first, dude?” 

Adam shoots his partner a look that says he’d eat the cake off the fucking floor if he had to, and Jonah shrinks back, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Aight, nevermind.” 

I glance at Joan for confirmation, but her eyes are fixed on her hands, where the tips of her fingers are beginning to unravel only slightly. 

◜ I’m not an expert on how sanitary true forms are, but I think I’d rather just cut the cake than deal with Adam when he’s hangry, ◞ Cecil offers me, looking antsy as he shifts his weight from side to side. ◜ If we survived last week, I think we can survive you not washing your knife-arm. ◞ 

With a shrug, I return my attention to Joan. Her hands are in her pockets, and she meets my gaze. “Wanna lead the countdown, sis?” 

“I’ll do ‘t,” Adam immediately offers. “Five four three two one. Happy fuckin’ new year. Cake now.” 

I chuckle and cut it, letting Cecil take charge of distributing it to everyone; at least someone remembered the paper plates. Adam tears into his like a starved animal, which is only mildly concerning, and Jonah watches him with a dreamy glaze in their eyes. 

“T’ that Fucker bein’ dead,” Joan toasts, raising her fork. Her fingertips have smoothed over again. 

“T’ the future,” Cecil adds. 

“T’ this cake!” Jonah jokes, and Adam nods in agreement before realizing he’s being mocked and switching flawlessly to a scowl. 

“T’ all a’ that,” I compromise. “‘Specially the future, I think.” 

“Haha, I got the Mark-approved toast,” Cecil brags. 

I pause before replying with the usual lighthearted jab. “Yeah, y’ did,” I say instead, smiling back and taking a bite of cake. 

The cheap plastic of the fork in my hand against my palm has never been such a welcome sensation.

[percontaion-points]

Jocelyn's Choice chapter 16

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Chapter 16

Alex hadn’t returned my phone call, and according to Evan, it hadn't taken Brenna and Julia long to tell him they’d bumped into me at the mall. 

Only after they'd seen the look in Alex’s eyes as he took in the news did Julia and Brenna finally realize I was having his baby.

I really wanted to have seen that!

"I’m not nauseous anymore, but I still throw up. The doctor said most women stop that after the first trimester, but I didn’t fall under that category."

 "Sorry about that." 

"It’s not your fault."

Once again, her being pregnant is 100% his fault. So technically, every bad thing to happen to her during this pregnancy is because of him!

"It was fantastic. The heartbeat was strong, and the technician said everything was perfect." Except you weren't there.

YOU ACTIVELY CHOSE OVER AND OVER NOT TO TELL HIM. YOU DON’T GET TO BE UPSET THAT HE WASN’T THERE FOR 2/3RDS OF THIS PREGNANCY!!

"I had to tell Max once I started showing, and now a few people at work know."

If Evan, Julia, and Brenna could tell by one look, I 100% assure you that everybody else who fucking sees you also knows. 

"It wasn’t just you." I really meant that. We both should've known the dangers of unprotected sex. "We did this together."

 "I was irresponsible," he said. "I was more experienced, and I should never have let things go so far that night."

YES, THANK YOU. MAN UP AND TAKE RESPONSIBILITY, YOU CREEP. SHE’S FREAKING 18 YEARS OLD!

"It’s done," I said. "We can’t change any of this, and to be honest, I don’t regret that night with you."

I am not going to shut up about this ever, but I hate how she says “we can’t change any of this”, yet she herself never had a moment of hesitation where she contemplated getting an abortion. 

I mean, obviously it would be tacky to ask a six-month pregnant woman if she did consider an abortion. But I’m kind of hung up over her lack of actual choice. 

"I could’ve still come home, Jocelyn," he said. "I wouldn’t have had to give up the internship, but we could have discussed all of our options." 

"What options?"

 "Well, did you consider all of the alternatives? I would've wanted to make sure you were aware of all of the available choices."

 "What?" I sat up and stared at him. "You’re not suggesting what I think, are you?"

THIS IS LITERALLY THE FIRST TIME THAT ANY OF THIS HAS COME UP!

And they’re not even openly saying it. Ugh. 

What’s worse is that he is saying to her heavily-pregnant face that she should have considered ALL of her options. WHICH I SPECIFICALLY TOLD HIM NOT TO DO!

"I’m not that young," I said. "I can do this." 

"I know you can," he said. "But I don’t want you to change your mind when it’s too late."

Jocelyn, you kind of have a family history of mothers walking away from their family. 

This is not how this was supposed to go down.

Chapter 16 summary: Obviously Julia went straight to Alex to tell him about the pregnancy. But then they both kind of realised at the same time that it was actually Alex’s baby. Evan tells all of this to Jocelyn, which is beyond frustrating, but whatever. 

Alex obviously rushes over to see Jocelyn. And yes, he’s upset over the entire thing, but who wouldn’t be? She hid this for the past six months. But he does seem a little excited at the thought of starting a life together with Jocelyn and the baby. 

After they talk for a bit, he takes her to see his parents so that they can find out as well. 

However, before they go inside, he confesses about what happened with Julia. That the two of them went to dinner by themselves because Brenna and Ryan had two tickets to see some play. Alex was depressed about Jocelyn ghosting him, but only promised to talk with Julia when he got back. Nothing happened beyond that. 

Inside, Sarah is excited, but then gets upset when she realises that Jocelyn has been struggling with clothes. She promises to take Jocelyn shopping later. Jack also would like to recommend her to a doctor closer to home, but she says that she’s comfortable with her current doctor, and switching with 3 months left to go doesn’t seem like a smart idea. But Jack is more concerned about her needing to go to a hospital further away when it’s time to deliver, which I suppose is fair enough. 

Alex then gets into it about Jocelyn’s beat up car. She’s willing to let Sarah buy her a new jacket because it’s freaking November and cold out. But a car is where she’s drawing the line. No matter how unsafe that her car might be… and the idea that there aren’t even any functioning seatbelts in the back. 

Jocelyn goes upstairs to rest in Alex’s room, under Sarah’s urging. But up there, Alex really puts his foot in his mouth and asks if she considered ALL of her options, including abortion, or the possibility of giving the baby up for adoption. This is naturally quite upsetting to Jocelyn, although Alex acts like he has no idea why. She storms downstairs, where she begs Evan to take her home. Alex doesn’t want her to go, or to at least take her himself. But Evan suggests that Alex give Jocelyn some space.