#after everything that was done to his brother. I feel like that would have just torn Lucien up inside

[peppermintquartz]

Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"

On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.

Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.

He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.

Tommy.

Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.

Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving

As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.

Tommy: don't know why I texted that

Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you

Tommy: you don't have to reply

Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays

Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.

Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too

Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3

Tommy: you're working today?

Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard

They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.

Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything

Buck: it's better to keep busy

Tommy: I know that feeling

Tommy: I'm sorry

Buck: I'm sorry too

Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together

Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you

Tommy: I would have said that too

Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you

Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?

Buck: I don't think you know me well enough

Tommy: sorry

Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.

He takes a deep breath. Then he types.

Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?

Tommy: is that a good idea

Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.

Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.

Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.

It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.

He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.

Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift

Tommy: are you off on Monday

The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.

Buck: yes

Buck: your place this time

Buck: I'll bring cake

Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door

Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet

Buck: I'm really thankful you texted

Tommy: I'm thankful you replied

Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan

It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Franco x driver reader- She is a rookie who started before him and the others on the grid are protective of her since she has no one with her (her family never goes to see her or supports her). They start talking and the other drivers act like older brothers.

A/n— Hi 👋 @alex-wotton I went with the last one because it really stood out to me because I realized last night that if I was a f1 driver traveling to races would be pretty lonely as my mom has lupus and is in pain all the time and my siblings are still in school while my dad works out on the road. I will also be doing the others to.

Oh one more thing this is just a little look into the big fic around this request I’ll be doing later… depending on how well this does.

"They mean well" — Franco Colapinto x fem! rookie diver! Reader

Fluff slightly angsty

Word count—1122

Summary — Franco befriend's the female Alpine rookie the only problem is that he now has to deal with her guard dogs.

The first few weeks on the grid were a whirlwind, especially since you were a rookie in a sport where every second counts, and every move you make is scrutinized. It was hard, almost overwhelming, and though you knew the other drivers were competitive, you quickly realized that there was a quieter, more supportive side to them. You couldn’t deny how much it helped to have the older drivers looking out for you.

Lando had taken to teasing you right away. His cheeky humor and constant lighthearted comments were always enough to make you laugh, even on the toughest days. “You’re doing better than most of the vets, you know,” he’d say after a particularly good lap, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Next time, you’ll have to give me some pointers!”

Max, who often seemed aloof to others, was surprisingly attentive. He noticed when you were on your own, after long days when you would simply wander the paddock, minding your own business. Without a word, he would sidle up next to you, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and talk about the most mundane things—anything to take your mind off the pressure. “Have you ever tried the coffee from the new stand near the paddock? Best one in town,” he’d comment, knowing full well it was an excuse to pull you into a conversation that wasn’t about racing for once.

Charles, ever the older brother type, was the one who would make sure you didn’t slip into your head too much. He could tell when the weight of everything was starting to build up on your shoulders. “Hey,” he’d say, voice gentle but firm. “You’re doing fine. Don’t let the stress get to you. You have a team behind you.”

And then there was Franco. He was quieter than the others, but his presence was undeniable. He’d only just joined the grid, and the others were quick to embrace him, but it was clear that his personality was different—calmer, more reserved. You found that, over time, you felt a quiet connection with him. It wasn’t an in-your-face, loud support, but a steady, reassuring presence.

One evening, after another intense qualifying session, you found yourself walking alone by the garages, replaying every corner of the track in your head. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, but you didn’t want to be a burden to the others, so you walked it off in silence. Franco noticed you from across the paddock and, with a knowing look, excused himself from a conversation he was having with Lando.

When he reached you, there was no fanfare, just a casual ease that made you relax almost immediately.

“Hey, everything okay?” Franco asked, his voice soft yet direct.

You smiled, a little weary, but grateful. “Just thinking about the session. Could’ve done better.”

He shook his head, his lips curling into a small smile. “You did fine. We all have those moments, don’t overthink it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It’s just… hard sometimes. Being the rookie and feeling like you’re always falling short.”

Franco tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment before replying. “I get it. I’m still the new guy here too, remember? But honestly, the others are looking out for you. They’ve got your back.”

The way he said it was simple, but there was a sincerity behind it that made something inside you relax. Franco wasn’t offering empty words—he meant it.

And it wasn’t just him. The next time you walked into the paddock and bumped into Max, he clapped you on the shoulder with a grin. “You looked a bit off yesterday. If you need a break, you know where to find me.”

Lando, catching wind of the exchange, chimed in from a few feet away. “Yeah, don’t make us have to drag you into our fun. We’re here for more than just the racing.”

The protectiveness came in waves. Sometimes it was subtle—Charles, pulling you aside to offer advice on staying focused during the race, or Lando, joking around to make you laugh when the stress of the weekend was beginning to get to you. But sometimes, it was a little more overt.

The first time you really felt the weight of their protectiveness was after a particularly tough race, where you finished outside the points. The media was relentless, questions flying about whether you were cut out for the sport, and you could feel the eyes of the paddock on you.

As you were heading back to your garage, head down, trying to shut out the noise, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Max.

“You don’t let them get to you,” he said quietly, looking you in the eyes. “It’s one race. And you’ll get them next time.”

Before you could respond, Lando appeared, his usual grin plastered across his face. “Max is right, of course. And if they keep giving you trouble, just let me know. I’m pretty good at handling the media.”

Charles joined them, his voice more serious than usual. “We’ve all been there. Don’t let them make you doubt yourself. We’re all in this together.”

That was when it hit you—this wasn’t just about the competition on the track. They truly cared about you, and despite the pressures of racing, they weren’t about to let you face it alone.

Franco appeared just as they were finishing up, walking over to the group with a quiet smile. “Everyone’s right,” he added, offering a knowing look. “And if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always around. No need to fight your battles alone.”

From that moment on, you felt the weight of their protectiveness more than ever. It wasn’t just about them looking out for a rookie; it was about them making sure you knew that no matter what happened, you weren’t alone on the grid.

The bond between you and Franco deepened as the weeks went on. In between races, the two of you shared quiet conversations in the back of the garage, or while waiting for your cars to be prepped. You spoke about everything—racing, family, the weird quirks of the Formula 1 lifestyle, and even the things you’d been avoiding thinking about. Franco’s steady support and dry humor became something you could rely on, and the way he listened without judgment made him one of the few you truly felt comfortable with.

In a world that often felt like a competition to survive, you finally understood: you had people here, and they weren’t just teammates or rivals—they were your family.

And Franco, despite being new to the grid himself, was starting to feel more like a brother than just a teammate.

[livinghalfway]

Magic Mirror

Summary: A magic mirror shows what a person desires most in the world. It shows Damian his twin standing next to him. Word Count: 1202

“Come on Damian, all you have to do is stand in front of it.” Dick pleaded with him while gesturing for him to step closer to the magic mirror they had recently obtained from a villain’s lair. 

It was a rather plain mirror as well for being a rare magical item; nothing but a full length mirror with a simple black frame. The only interesting thing about it was that it had the ability to show what a person desired most in life when they stood in front of it. 

Once that little trick was discovered the others had quickly jumped at the chance to stand in front of it. Which was foolish in Damian’s opinion; allowing everyone in the room to view your deepest desire. 

“Tt, I think not Richard; I after all already know what the mirror will show me.There is no point in me standing in front of it.” 

Before Dick can continue his beseeching his case though Jason cuts in from across the room; next to the mirror. “Oh yeah? What do you think would show up, Demon brat; you dressed up as Batman?” 

“He wishes,” Tim snickers next to Jason, “It’s probably gonna be something embarrassing and that’s why he doesn’t want to do it.” 

"Drake, if you know what's good for you you'll stop talking!"

Tim gives Jason a nudge with his elbow before loudly whispering, "That sounds like a conformation if I've ever heard one." 

"Tt, how dare-" Damian is quickly cut off from his incoming tirade by Dick jumping back into the conversation.

"Okay! Let's not start arguing with one another." Dick says to all of them before directing his focus towards him, "Damian, if you really don't want to try out the mirror you don't have too. No one is going to force you to." 

Damian merely rolls his eyes as he walks towards the mirror. The only reason he does so is because being Robin is what he desires the most; he knows it. Looking into the mirror will merely be about proving Drake and Todd wrong. "I'll do it Richard if only to shut these two imbeciles up." 

The moment he stood in front of the mirror waiting for the magic to change the reflection Damian knew that he shouldn't have let Tim and Jason get to him. He had done something foolish and there was no going back now as the mirror swirls with a gold shimmer. 

When the distorted image clears once more Damian swears he feels his heart stop. The reflection shown is not one a million years could have prepared him for. It is not him standing at his father's side, Batman and Robin, as he thought it would have been. 

Instead it shows Damian exactly as he is at the moment. He would almost think the mirror didn't change anything if it weren't for the boy in the mirror standing next to him. Even after all these years it was someone he would never be able to forget. 

His twin brother, Danyal, and him standing side by side once more. While Damian stands rigid and shocked, Danyal's posture is relaxed. He's even smiling as he leaning towards him until their shoulders touch in the reflection.

He doesn't feel it though; he wants to feel it. 

All of a sudden it hits Damian that this is what he desires the most out of everything in the world. The only thing he wants is for his brother to be alive and with him at the manor. With the family Danyal not got the chance to know; the family that doesn't even know he exists. 

In the blink of an eye the magical gold swirls take over the mirror once more, and when it clears it is once again just himself looking back at him. 

After what must be an eternity of staring at the mirror Damian realizes that everything around him is too quiet. He snaps his head to the side where his brothers are, and sees the three of them staring back at him. All of them are in varying degrees of shock and curiosity at what they had just seen. 

He considers lying at first. Saying that he had no idea who the boy was. He can't find it in himself to do that though. Damian had kept his brother a secret long enough; maybe it would be good for the others to know. "That Richard was my twin brother; Danyal." 

With those words Damian practically collapses on the nearest chair; feeling drained and exhausted. The others follow suit as they too take seats next to him. 

"Danyal … Danyal was kind. He understood people much more than I ever will." He takes a deep breath, "He was smart and curious. Always asking questions and wanting to understand everything around him. It was always the stars that fascinated him the most."

"Sounds like a good kid," Jason starts, "must have gotten all the friendly genes in the womb."

"For once I think I agree with you, Todd." 

The silence that follows is thick and suffocating. It is luckily broken after a few seconds by Tim's hesitant question, "What happened to him?"

That was the big question wasn't it? What happened to Danyal; to the twin and brother that wasn't with him when he arrived at the manor?

"Danyal … died a couple years before I came here. The two of us were attacked by a group of rogue assassins after our study lessons." Damian swallows, his throat feels tight, "I wasn't as focused as I should have been, and Danyal ended up taking a fetal hit meant for me."

"Damian-" 

"Let me finish, Richard." He snaps. He doesn't think he would be able to finish if otherwise interrupted. "Danyal was dead by the time he was finally brought to the pits. I knew there was a chance it wouldn't work, but I didn't think it would take him completely. His body was never recovered from the pits.I never got to bury my brother." 

It's when his vision starts to blur that Damian realizes that he's crying. Danyal always did have a way of making Damian show emotions that he would rather keep hidden.

He feels himself being pulled into a chest, and for now he doesn't fight against it. Damian's not sure if he honestly could at the moment. 

“Father doesn’t know about this.” Damian continues after a few minutes of silently sobbing in Dick’s arms. 

“He needs to know.” Tim states, “Maybe not today, but soon.” 

“You tell him when you’re ready, short stack. The old man can deal with not being told right away.” Jason reassures him when he doesn’t answer Tim right away. 

"What am I not being told?" Damian feels as if he's been dunked in water when he realizes that his Father had heard the end of their conversation. 

"Father."

"Damian?" Bruce takes in his youngest son's appearance and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's in some kind of emotional distress.Which in of itself is very rare for him to be in.

"Father, please take a seat. There is something I need to tell you." 

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep. 06 - ep. 07)

Uh, not Li Lun, out of all people, making everyone finally question why Zhu Yan actually killed Yichen's brother and all those people years ago. We know he lost control over his malicious energy, but why didn't anyone ask him why it happened? Come on, people, you seem to be so smart))

Well, Wen Xiao seems to be accepting enough to not care about what our gorgeous Demon Lord has done in the past, which is quite refreshing. Ambiguous, morally grey characters need more unconditional love (especially when they're, uh, 34,000 years old? XD). But he doesn't even seem to be so 'grey' at this point - he's doing too many good things right now.

The whole thing with being a 'vessel for malicious energy' is quite intriguing. Was he born like that? Can he actually stop 'the cycle of rebirth'? Why did he 'lose control' after so many years of cultivation? I'm also trying to figure out the timeline - the killings must have happened after he dropped Wen Xiao off at what seemed to be the gates to the demon-hunting bureau. But she wasn't staying there when that stuff happened? Did his demonic self come back there just to wreak havoc or for some other reason? Was Li Lun involved? Mmmm, the plot is deliciously mysterious, I will have to wait to get those answers.

Also, I can't even be angry with Li Lun at this point, although he's playing the bad guy now - the poor baby was so visibly hurt when Zhu Yan called him a scumbag. And that painful look he had when our Demon Lord thought something along the lines 'screw you, I know how to wake this boy up from his nightmare' and pierced himself with Yichen's sword (which, uh, seems to be quite a recurring motif and the symbolism of it isn't escaping me, nope XD). In the world of jianghu, the next best thing you can do to show you CARE apart from cutting sleeves is to stab (or get stabbed by) the person you care about. Or get stabbed FOR the person you care about.

I also love how effortlessly Yichen is third-wheeling without creating a feeling that he's actually third-wheeling XD Wen Xiao is obviously biased towards Zhu Yan, now even more so that she knows he IS that Great Demon who accompanied her and the Bai Ze Goddess all those years ago. I would totally trust him, too, if I were her. I also love the messed-up dynamic of a former caretaker/child who's grown up because now Zhu Yan definitely doesn't give us those parental vibes, he's oozing sensuality wherever he goes (and him pretending to be all hurt so she stays with him, ahah, that whole sequence was cute and hilarious). And Zhu Yan saying something along the lines that they now get to 'meet all over again' - was it to build a new relationship with her from scratch? M-hmm, yummy, utterly delicious :D

And you can see how Yichen kinda sorta admits defeat in the way Wen Xiao no longer needs his protection against the 'big bad demon' (the man is using his big bad demonic energy to push her swing, for Christ's sake XD), but still can't let the other man go so easily because of REASONS and that 'you'll have to pay for your sins either way' thing still going on between them. Zhu Yan does know what buttons to push when it comes to Yichen, but the feeling seems to be quite mutual (they're cute together and their interactions are so yummy 😍). That scene at the temple is EVERYTHING. And then at Zhu Yan's mansion with the swing. Is he swinging both ways? Ahah XD For a 34,000-year-old being I don't see how that could be an issue)))

Okay, cutting and piercing still seem to be the show's love language and I APPROVE (never had a kink like that, but there's a first thing for everything, I guess XD). The undertones just make it all so yum))

The introduction of the new character, Yinglei, was hilarious))) We also find out that the Wilderness is crumbling down, which makes the whole Bai Ze token thing even more important.

/and I've finally reached the picture limit in one tumblr post, ahah XD/

[crushedsweets]

I would like to ask if the creepypastas know what happened to each other? Like do Tim and Brian know what happened in Toby’s and Kate’s childhood/past? And if they do know how did they find out?

some do!! this kinda half-assed answers your question cuz i included all 16, so its kinda difficult to cover everyone neatly!

for kate... i dont think anyone but toby and MAYBE clocky/nina would know what happened to her. she doesnt want to talk about it at all, and toby would only find out by connecting the dots of random stuff shes said.

i think toby is pretty open about what happened to him. he'd be very quick to make jokes or casually be like "yea i got the shit bullied out of me". so people are familiar, HOWEVER i dont think a lot of them really understand how bad it was for him bc hes so casual with it. i think tim and brian probably caught toby losing him mind, having nightmares, screaming and he'd be like "you dont get it you dont fucking know the shit that happened to me" etc etc. with clocky or kate or EJ, he'd be SLIGHTLY more vulnerable. tell them about lyra and connie, but he's just uncomfortable with that stuff

tim wouldnt really want to talk about his childhood or everything he lost either. i think he'd only bring it up with toby in the event that toby needed comfort, or something to ground/relate to (i.e hospital visits, schizophrenia, loss) OR if someone implies tim has it better than them. then he's like WHAT the fuck do you think you know about me. otherwise he rather not.

brian is pretty similar. he just doesnt wanna talk about it. brushes things off pretty easily, tries to joke about it, or he says something like "it sucked but im here now. gotta keep pushing, why dwell". . .

clockwork keeps that shit to her chest. the most she'd bring up is like "yea i grew up poor, dad was a nutcase, i dont wanna talk about my brother" or implying other people have it easier than she did (which is true 90% of the time. she had it rough). i think only toby and nina would get a better idea of what really happened to her, but she just doesnt like to think about it. itd be a similar case where they catch her having a panic attack or nightmare and she chokes something out .

nina spills everything she doesnt really care. she likes to talk and share and spill her guts, so everyone is pretty familiar with all her ex boyfriends, workaholic parents, getting bullied, whatever. shes a bit more hesitant to bring up certain things that SHE'S done (cheating, cyberstalking, self harm, etc) but she'll happily share times she was a victim to others

EJ would share about his family very freely, and i think if someone asked, he'd tell them about jenny. so i guess it just depends on who cares to ask ? toby, clocky, maybe tim/brian would. jeff and ben might ask like "hey why are you ugly now" and he would not tell them . cuz he needs whoever he tells to ask genuinely and treat it seriously

similar to nina, jeff just yaps and yaps and goes off about how hard he had it (completely warping the story and lying half the time). so he'll just bring it up to brag or compare or compete or prove a point, but its never done very.. vulnerably?

ben doesnt talk about any of it. most of the group knows, because his case (yk, 13 yr old boy kidnapped and murdered amongst several other young teens..) got really big and everyone kinda talked about it without him. he doesnt want pity or to think about it. he'd only bring it up with sally, i think, cuz he feels a bit more seen by her

sally would only tell jane and clocky. i genuinely cant see a reason she'd ever bring it up to anyone else, and those two are the only ones she'd trust (and mary but marys not that big in my au)

jane tells people pretty openly, because she was a victim of jeffs stalking. she tries to make her story more...inspirational? because after all her pain and loss, she still went to law school and all of that. or if someone tries to diminish her pain, she'd be like 'watch your mouth.' i think she'd tell nina and liu. for nina, it'd be like "you dont even care do you? you still love that man after everything? how can you look me in the eye, knowing all he's done, and tell me you idolize him?" and for liu it would be more about like. closure maybe? part of her resents liu even though it was NOT his fault whatsoever and he's also a victim, but shes mature enough to try and navigate the trauma WITH him despire her pain

for liu its kinda similar, but nothing is inspirational. he would tell people because for him, its how he connects to people. connecting on trauma, even if its not the healthiest way. . . if someone asks, he tells them. its kinda sad the way he talks about jeff though. 'i just miss pushing my little brother on the swing'

dina screams and screams at everyone about "YOU DONT KNOW WHAT IVE LOST" because she was held in such a idolized position in her cult. she hates lazari and she blames everyone else because she thinks they have something to do with the devil(zalgo) and thats why god doesnt want her anymore.

lazari would cry to EJ about her nightmares of her mom, but i dont think she'd talk about it with others. it just makes her sad. maybe she'd tell jeff cuz he'd be asking and then He'd belike oh. jeez. ok. LOL. that sucks.

lulu doesnt really remember what happens to her, but everyone has an idea. she mumbles about hazing, how cold the water is, how she doesnt wanna drink again, how the sorority girls are so mean, she just wants to go back to her dorm, whatever. but its just because shes so lost in her mind

ann is more like ... sassy . brags about her redroom business and whatnot, complains about the man who killed her, gets all sultry about kate saving her from her big bad killer, whatever. but she doesnt talk about her family or how she was a femcel neet.

[skimmingmilk]

i've just found out your tumblr has even MORe picket fence writing and im over the moon?? But also my heart was shattered with the back in time wip 😭😭😭 how does sonic find the strength to leave baby tails behind, how does he react when he sees tails again in his own timeline after having met sick abandoned baby tails??

Heheheh, yeah, there are some little fics or scenes I've written that I hesitate to put on AO3 sometimes (or just aren't complete enough to be a story on their own), so I like to throw them at Tumblr from time to time. Glad you found them! :D

Ohh, the back in time WIP... Not sure how much I can give away because of the chance that it's going to end up part of a bigger fic... but it'll still be a long while until I get around to posting that xD Maybe people will forget lol.

Potential future spoilers under the cut?

So! The way I see it playing out is that Sonic is going to find it in him to leave baby Tails behind because he knows they'll cross paths one day, the way they're supposed to and everything will play out from there. He knows he can't stay in the past and he can't take baby Tails to his present. Plus, Silver's with him and it probably wouldn't go over well to try and explain why it'd be a good idea to take baby Tails with him when it would negate pretty much everything Sonic and Tails experienced together since meeting on West Side Island or cause a split in the timeline where now there's a universe where Sonic never got to meet Tails because he wasn't there and now Sonic's time with have two Tailses. He knows that it can't happen.

But... Sonic still can't stop wondering about the little guy. Is he cold? Is he scared? Is he getting enough to eat? Is he lonely? Hurt? All the things he's not letting himself think about when it comes to his Tails (the 10 year old who's on his first solo adventure and basically gone as close to no contact as possible in order to "prove himself"). He projects all that onto the baby version of him because he knows Tails can handle himself (and that's not why he's worried about him, what he's uncomfortable with is the motive behind the journey). So he gets his hands on two Chaos Emeralds and goes back to check on baby Tails by himself. Just this once.

Except it doesn't end up being just once. Because there is this disconnect and distance between Sonic and Tails of the present, doubts that have arisen in the wake of Forces, Frontiers, and now Tails's absence, Sonic's drawn more and more to the past. Baby Tails smiles and laughs and he doesn't pull away from him and he likes to play and explore and he still needs him. It's just so easy for Sonic to make him feel better. Just by being there.

Also, because this is after Frontiers, going through cyberspace and the cyber corruption has opened the gates to Sonic's memories a bit and they're kind of leaking into his thoughts more and more. He's falling into the habit of ruminating, reliving moments and questioning choices he made, things he might've done wrong, could've done better. So that maybe Tails wouldn't feel like he needs to become a completely different person.

Present Tails won't listen to him, but baby Tails hangs onto every word. So maybe by being there... Tails might remember being loved and maybe the 10 year old won't only see the worst parts of himself when he looks in the mirror if Sonic can try again and show the younger version that he's worth something just as he is.

I think Sonic crosses paths with present Tails twice during all of this. The first conversation goes okay, but there's an awkwardness to it. But Sonic does try to make an effort to be more open with Tails in the hopes that maybe it will set a better example. And Tails is surprisingly receptive to it. So Sonic resolves to not go back to the past, because Tails seems to be doing okay after all. And he's reminded that he loves who his little brother is now. The good and the bad made him who he is, and would he really want to change that? Of course not!

Unfortunately, the second conversation doesn't go nearly as well...

So Sonic goes back to see baby Tails in the wake of it - not because he needs it, but because Tails clearly does - but when he arrives, the forest is burning and he can't find Tails anywhere...

[bad268]

ok so Arthur leclerc sad fic. HERE ME OUT. It’s him comparing himself to Ollie and how he got to have everything he ever dreamed of, how he just wanted to be like his brother and make him proud. Like set at the end of 2023 when Ferrari dropped him and he left prema ( crying rn just at the mention of it) and maybe it can fast forward the Ollies first f1 race and Arthur is just on the bed of the hotel watching with teary eyes and the reader comforts him. WOAH THAT WAS ALOT I AM SO SORRY. I feel like I didn’t mention enough almost?!? Idk I feel like u could really add ur touch to it.

HOLD UP I THOUGHT I WAS DONE. What happens if it gets a little angsty like he is watching it with teary eyes and reader is like “Arthur, Arthur?” And he randomly snaps and starts destroying the hotel room and starts saying stuff like “THAT SHOULD BE, I DESERVED IT” then randomly stops and breaks down on the floor saying “I will never ever be enough for anything, I am not good enough, I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself”

WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WRITE I FEEL LIKE I JUST WROTE A WHOLD FIC WOAH IM SO SORRY. If it’s too angsty just make sure to point it out bc if u won’t do it I think I can finally it my non existent writing skills to work ( kidding)

I LOVE UR WORK BTWWWW

That Should Be Me (Arthur Leclerc X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/WEC

Requested: Clearly (WHEN I TELL YOU I SCREAMED WHEN I SAW THIS-)

Warnings: Mentions of destroying room (Arthur has a mental breakdown tbh)

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1091

Summary: Arthur feels jealous of Ollie, of Charles. He doesn't feel worthy to be in Ferrari, but the reader shows him his worth.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It had been a hectic year for you and Arthur. What started as a good opportunity to test Ferrari later turned sour when Ferrari dropped Arthur from their driver academy. It was hard to get around at first, but you convinced Arthur to take it in strides and take it for what it is. An opportunity to do something better. Sure, he was still a developmental driver for Ferrari, but that left more time to show them what he could do in endurance racing! He’d show them what they lost there!

Just as he was accepting the loss, they threw a fork in the road. He decided that since he didn’t need to be with his endurance team until later in March, he would go to support his brother in Jeddah. You joined him since the timing worked out in your schedule, too.  Just as you two were getting off the plane, the news hit.

Breaking: Oliver Bearman to replace Carlos Sainz this weekend in Jeddah.

You saw it immediately, but Arthur, who had turned off notifications from Instagram, didn’t see it until you both got to the hotel after traveling the entire day. Arthur had pulled out his phone to find the reservation, and that was the first thing he saw.

He turned to you, showing the notification with a small smile, before saying, “Look at that! Ollie’s racing this weekend.”

At the time, you wished you had picked up on the forceness of his smile, or the fact that his jaw was clenched, or even the slightly hurt tone behind his words. Unfortunately, you didn’t, though.

You both started unpacking in silence, but you didn’t think anything of it. It was normal. Then, you realized you had left your hair care products at home, so you mentioned to Arthur that you would be back in about ten minutes. 

It was only ten minutes, but when you came back, everything was destroyed.

Your clothes were thrown around the room, bags upside down and emptied, and Arthur was nowhere to be seen. That caused your stomach to drop.

“Arthur?” You asked cautiously as you stepped into the hotel room, taking care not to step on everything around you. You walk into the bedroom and see him destroying the bed and throwing everything haphazardly around. You were scared to approach him, so you settled for calling out to him. “Arthur?”

“That should have been me!” He cried out in anger as his moves became more erratic and dangerous. “I gave my everything to Ferrari, and they overlooked me. Every. Single. Time. I’m tired of it! I deserved that! Why does Ollie get everything handed to him?”

“You have worked hard, love,” You comforted as you approached him slowly, resting a hand on his forearm to stop him. “You have done everything right, and you’re right. It’s not fair, but it's what happened, and we can’t change it now. All we can do is be supportive of Ollie and show our support. Ferrari will see you, I promise.”

“I will never be enough for anything,” He whispered as he started coming down. His shoulders dropped as the pillow he held fell back onto the bed, and he sank down to the floor. You followed him, quickly wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he cried into your shoulders. “I’m always overlooked in this sport. I’ll always be in Charles’s shadow. I’m never going to be good enough in comparison.”

“You have never been in Charles’s shadow to me,” You whispered back as you put your hands against his cheeks to pull his face off your shoulder. You wiped away his tears like he had done with you on so many occasions and left trails of kisses over the tracks that lined his cheeks. You gave him a minute before leaning your forehead against his. “You have been and always will be enough. You deserve so much. I know it seems like everything is crashing down against you, but your time to shine will come. It’ll just take some time and patience.”

“How do you know that? How do you know they aren’t just going to throw me out after they don’t want me anymore?” He asked. He sounded defeated, and it broke your heart to pieces hearing him doubt himself so much. “What if they’re only keeping me around because of my name? I’ll never live up to Charles.”

“Please stop comparing yourself to your brother,” You pleaded with a groan and a pointed look at Arthur.

“Why? He is better than me in almost every way,” Arthur tried to go on a tangent, but you gently squished his cheeks to stop him.

“I’m dating Arthur Leclerc. I have only dated Arthur Leclerc. I only want to date Arthur Leclerc. I love Arthur Leclerc. I have only loved Arthur Leclerc. And I only want to love Arthur Leclerc. Is that clear enough for you?” You planted kisses around his face with every statement you made before landing with the final one on his lips with a slight chuckle. “You are the love of my life, and I have always believed in you. You will always be enough for me because you are all I could ever want.”

“So you won’t leave if I don’t make it to F1?” He questioned as he leaned more of his weight into your hands. 

“Don’t speak that into existence, love,” You sighed. “But wherever you end up, I will always be beside you for it. I don’t define your success like that. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy to be with you.”

“I’m happy to be with you, too,” He whispered back as he finally smiled and pulled you in for a kiss. He moved his hands to the side of your neck and your cheek before he pulled back slightly and whispered against your lips, “What do we do now?”

“We support the team like we came to do, we cheer our friend Ollie on for this opportunity he got, and we show that you are just as committed to the team as you always have,” You said with a shrug. “There isn’t much we can really do besides that. If there is more, I just don’t know it. We’ll just go with the flow.”

“Can we get dinner and dessert?” Arthur asked with a smirk. “I could use a cheat.”

“I think you deserve a little cheat after today,” You chuckled, leaving a light kiss on the tip of his nose. “Anything you want.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[bluemorningsoup]

Arcane and JayVik have me fucking apoplectic. (Arcane S2 spoilers below cut.)

At first I was like: oh, so they’re going to parallel Vi + Jinx somewhat, Science Bros instead of Violence Sis, brothers by choice rather than blood. But then there was what I call the Infidelity Sequence, in which Jayce’s love scene with Mel was juxtaposed against a dying Viktor in the most bizarre manner, like Jayce was cheating on Viktor—an absolute fucking choice—and other instances of Mel superimposed against Viktor.

So I thought: SURELY it can’t be a “bros before hoes” storyline in the year of Our Lord Faker 2024??? But then they gave us Sky “Fridged Woman” Young and Jayce said Viktor was like a brother to him, and I was like, WOW, they’re really giving us this storyline in this day and age; this should be illegal.

Then S2 Jayce started going on about how he realised his place was in the lab with Viktor. Which was like. Okay. I’m a scientist. Modern science is, in reality, a very lonely endeavour a lot of the time, even as it demands nearly all of your life. I, too, would kill to have someone who would do experiments alongside me, who would share every project and publication authorship with me. Don’t get me wrong: there are real-life scientists who do it together, but more often than not they can afford to do so because they’re fucking married to each other. So. I get it, but it did feel like Jayce was basically declaring he wanted Viktor as a life partner.

And then Act 3 Jayce and the animation doubled down on it. The shadows in the campfire morphing from Mel into Viktor. Jayce telling Mel that for some time, he had been confused about many things. He had finally decided on what he wanted and apparently it’s to get his “(lab???) partner” back. Man was consumed by it—had discarded all other ambitions and dreams and desires for this singular motivation, even as he blasted a hole in Viktor’s chest and declared his partner “died in this room”, driven by a logic the viewers weren’t initially privy to. Oh yeah, and there’s also the oddly erotic fight scene with an avatar of Viktor.

And then then the narrative tripled, quadrupled, fucking Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicles-Neon Genesis Evangelion-Puella Magi Madoka Magica-ed on it. Who had been reading CLAMP in the writers’ room? Come the fuck out; I just want to talk. No, that’s not a shotgun in my hand; don’t worry about it. Transcendant Viktor choosing to stay by Jayce’s body after the end of everything. The storyboard placing the shot of Jayce kneeling face to face with his own corpse with Viktor’s voice line: “…fields of dreamless solitude.” Jayce deciding upon the singular defining desire of his life as wanting his partner back and promising to never let Viktor be alone. Jayce fulfilling that promise. Jayce drawing Viktor in even as his own body shook and trembled. Viktor’s gentle hand on Jayce’s arm. The forehead touch.

You sit there and watch as above ambitions, above desires, above suffering, above every other thing this universe has to offer—across all possibilities, across all timelines, two men choose one another.

And then the head writer of Arcane spoke about how they’re “just friends” and how “important” it is to portray platonic male relationship. My brother in Summoner’s Rift, as if any other emotional portrayal of male relationship in media is NOT about platonic male bonding. It’s fucking 2024, Faker won his 5th Worlds, and Jayce and Viktor are brothers who chose one another out of love, contrasting against Vi and Jinx who had to let go of one another out of love. BROS BEFORE HOES.

So I guess all I have to say is: Arcane JayVik are fucking awesome and they’ll leave you breathless like an ambiguous male-male relationship from a 2000 anime, but after all’s said and done, they’re from motherfucking League of motherfucking Legends.

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 65

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

The morning of the invasion, they find Aang's tent empty. Momo and his glider are gone. No one had seen him since he flew off to meditate the night before.

What's worse, they had no time to look before an artificial fog rolled in and the invasion force arrived.

There were a dozen Southern sailing ships, half a dozen of the Norths dual haul platforms, and about two dozen reinforced Earth Kingdom ferries. In addition, Zuko's old ship was flanked by two Fire Nation cruisers, and five of Sokka's 'submarine' inventions.

The gathered forces were massive, gathering and filling the beach. There were people from all over, making a sea of blues and greens and reds. And in that sea, three men emerged. Katara's father, General How, and Zuko's uncle.

"Katara," her father said, wide eyed and anxious. He hadn't seen her since the night he left.

"Not now," she said, glancing past them to the gathered forces. "We need a word."

Murmers and whispers rose up amongst the gathered forces. They didn't have time to focus on that, instead pulling the men equivalent to the three main generals where they could talk privately.

"Aang is missing," Sokka said, once Toph was sure they wouldn't be overheard. "We found out this morning."

"What?!" General How growled. "The Avatar, the head of this entire operation, is just... gone?"

"Twinkle Toes wasn't really the head of anything," Toph scoffed. "Snoozles, Sparky, Honey, and Sweetness were the people actually making plans."

The three adults blinked, like she was speaking an ancient language. Katara couldn't blame them.

"It's to late to back out now, and the invasion can still work," Katara said, turning to Iroh. "We just need someone to take Aang's place."

Zuko took a deep breath, before speaking. "Uncle, will you take the Avatar's place? When the eclipse ends, you're the only other person that could defeat him."

"No," Iroh said, making everyone gape at him. He shook his head, calm as could be. "While I am flattered, I am not as in my prime as I once was. I do not know if I could defeat Ozai, as I could decades ago. And even if I could, the world would only see it as more senseless violence, a brother killing a brother, in a bid for power." Pausing, he looked around at them all. "We must push forward. The Avatar will be where he is needed, when the time is right. We must trust in that."

General How looked dubious, but her father nodded.

"It's to late to back out now," her father said, reaching out to place a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "And, if the Avatar doesn't return... I know that you will do what needs to be done. You're a good man. Strong warrior. The Southern Tribe will always fight alongside you."

Zuko swallowed, giving the man a bow. "You honor me, Chief Hakoda."

"No, Prince Zuko. The honor is mine." Turning, her father eyed the all. "So... Ready to present the invasion plans?"

Sokka swallowed, but nodded. They were heading back, Sokka with an arm full of maps and notes, Zuko right beside him. But as Katara turned to follow, her father grabbed her shoulder.

"Katara, can we talk a moment?"

She thought about saying no. About pushing past to join the others. But this was the first time she had seen her father in almost two years.

"What is it, dad?"

He smiled, looking her over. "After everything you've been through, I thought I would be worried about you returning to the Fire Nation, but I know that Sokka and Zuko would take care of you. I'm glad you're here. That you're going to be fighting alongside us. And before we left, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."

Feeling a smile tugging at her own lips, Katara reached out, wrapping her arms around her father. "Thank you."

He squeezed, holding her close. "And Iroh told me about how much closer you and Zuko have gotten. And if he hurts you, I don't care if he's the Fire Lord, he's a member of the tribe and he'll be punished like one."

"Dad!" She pulled back, slapping her father's shoulder, only to get a chuckle in return.

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

[dirtytransmasc]

atwow hot take:

if jake had said his "son for a son" shit out loud and spider had heard him, he would have been so beyond pissed, he would be seeing red.

spider loved his little siblings so much, neteyam included, even after they grew apart. he loved them like they were his own blood and protected them like they were too (we see a lot more of them together in the comics, where spider is the big brother without a doubt). neteyam's death most certainly rocked him hard, even if he hasn't really been able to show it (how could he? he's already going through all the shit with his dad and the RDA and their nonsense, he can't grieve around neytiri, he's just so tired after it all. he doesn't have the room or the energy to grieve yet)

so if jake had the audacity to say that to/around spider not even a few hours after he watched his little brother get shot after coming to save him, after he stared at the bullet hole in his back, after he watched him take his last breaths, after he watched the light leave his eyes, after he watched his little brother die for him; if he said that while his little brother's body lay in a pool of his own blood not even ten feet away, not even cold yet, blood still clinging to his chest, the scent of it still filling the air: he would have lost his shit.

because the disrespect for his brother is wild.

jake was an active player in spider's neglect and abuse for the last 16 years, he let it happen, he helped it happen. he tried to send spider with the humans, tried to take him away from his siblings, from the forests, from eywa to live with his foster family that didn't love him (not to mention Nash was an asswipe of epic proportions) and the RDA of all people. he had referred to spider as a stray animal since he was little. he was the reason spiders life was hell.

and after all that, years and years of putting him in shit positions and allowing him to suffer the fate of being forever unloved and uncared for (by an adult authority figure, cause I love the kids, but they don't make up for the gap left by a parent), this is what it took for jake to care about him? his little brother had to die in front of him first? he had to be traded out to fill the space of a corpse, to fill in the gap left by his little brother's death?

in canon, spider was in deep in shock with nothing to break him from it, he wasn't in the place to really think about any of it, and I'm sure we're gonna see this anger in the coming movies, but if jake had said it out loud, that would have been enough to snap spider right out of it, and he would have given jake a piece of his mind, I just know it.

[dent-de-leon]

help I just remembered Taliesin asked if Mollymauk would have set off Caduceus' Detect Undead--that he always thought Molly would, and was genuinely surprised when Matt told him no....

Taliesin Axelrod Jaffe were you ever going to share that you thought Mollymauk Tealeaf had been undead this whole time--

[lilcathsmith]

Greg in every episode of CSI (139/328) • Post-Mortem •

[gaylos-lobos]

like i think the insane thing about the episode is how it continued to push the collector-luz, luz-philip and philip-collector parallels throughout it to then just hand wave it, like why do ALL THAT and then just drop it? like why put so much focus on it and then just, nothing?

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[menagerofmischief]

she's everything, he's max (mv33)

summary: y/n leclerc starts soft launching a man and soon enough there are paparazzi pictures of the two of them except no one quiet believes that the princess of monaco would settle down with ... max!

max verstappen x leclerc!reader -> smau

cw: some google translated french, my first attempt at a smau, inchident jokes, charles gets bullied

a/n: max won over franco by a few percent and I know there was a lot of people interested in seeing this with franco as well. I'd love to do something with franco so feel free to request it.

yourusername: monaco you were beautiful! I'm so proud of my brother for finally achieving his dream and winning home - love you Cha!

tagged: charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari

liked by: arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux ...

comments:

charles_leclerc: je t'aime petite soeur

charles_leclerc: you could have at least posted a picture of me to celebrate my win

-> yourusername: don't be ridiculous cha, I have a reputation to uphold -> carsgovrom: turns out appearing on his sisters instagram is a harder feat than breaking the monaco curse -> lechair16: of course it is, mother has a refined feed

maxverstappen1: he's come a long way since the inchident liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc: get out of here

alexandrasaintmleux: <3

yourusername: <3

user366: anyone else notice that max's been in the likes for a while now

user374: he also commented user366: call me crazy but something may be going on here user422: you're crazy

user993: mother is mothering again

yourusername: celebrating in style

liked by: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux ...

comments:

maxverstappen1: charles_leclerc what's that in the second picture?

charles_leclerc: get out of my sisters comments, sid user778: lmao not charles using the max looks like sid meme user801: he didn't come to play

charles_leclerc: betrayal absolute betrayal!

charles_leclerc: first the redbull picture charles_leclerc: AND THEN A MAN charles_leclerc: delete this

arthur_leclerc: say hi to your friend ;)

charles_leclerc: he knows but I don't!!! I can not believe this blashphemy yourusername: he says hi back! yourusername: alexandrasaintmleux come take him away alexandrasaintmleux: consider it done

userus: do the monaco royals know mother is serving the public more than they ever could

user366: can he fight?

maxverstappen1: yes user366: I'm going crazy

f1wags: last night in monaco, y/n leclerc (charles leclerc's sister) was spotted on a dinner with current f1 world champion, max verstappen. after leaving the restaurant the two were pictures kissing and walking intimately. are we getting a new wag in the paddock?

comments:

user366: and they said I was crazy!

user422: sorry girl

user1020: y'all are believing this? why would she date him?

user7789: I'm supposed to believe max pulled THE y/n?

charles_leclerc: oh!

user880: ariana what are you doing here!?

maxssssv: charles commented, it's gotta be real

userrrr: until mother confirms I refuse to believe she's dating .... him

maxverstappen1: family time

liked by: yourusername, victoriaverstappen, charles_leclerc

comments:

user7741: does he really think he's fooling anyone with that soft launch?

uswws: oh he's kinda cute actually

user7755: this is the guy who dating Y/N LECLERC?!

charles_leclerc: tell y/n to call me back, I'm not mad I just want to talk

alexandrasaintmleux: he's mad arthur_leclerc: don't call him back charles_leclerc: I see how it is

f1addict: charles basically confirmed it, right?

yourusername: another trophy on the shelf and another great race! couldn't be prouder of you or happier to call you mine. je t'aime max

tagged: maxverstappen1

comments:

charles_leclerc: ..... this is embarrassing, take it down

charles_leclerc: you never post pictures of me but he gets a whole post!?

charles_leclerc: don't bother coming over, leo already has a better aunt

maxverstappen1: I love you schatje

user366: crazy! I was crazy once

user122: I know she's astronomically out of his league but they're cute

user1010: no because finally someone said it! I ship it

lechair16: I'm only in the comments to see charles going mad atp

maxverstappen1: happy 1 year, schatje! I love you more than words can describe, you have made every day of my life better since the moment you came to talk to me after your brother ruined my race, and now you're the person I dedicate every race win to. ik houd van je

tagged: yourusername

liked by: arthur_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, yourusername ...

comments:

yourusername: aw max! I love you so much!

arthur_leclerc: my sister's crying now, great job mate

arthur_leclerc: jokes aside, very happy for you two

charles_leclerc: fine! I guess you can stay

charles_leclerc: if you must.... charles_leclerc: but if you hurt my sister I won't hesitate to launch operation inchident 2.0 maxverstappen1: noted

yourusername: here you go - welcome to the feed

tagged: charles_leclerc

liked by: maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc

comments:

user001: be honest, was posting charles a condition for him to accept max?

yourusername: yes

charles_leclerc: hey, we said good pictures!

yourusername: I happen to think you look really good in these pictures maxverstappen1: one would say, you've never looked so good charles_leclerc: you're on thin ice sid

load more comments ...

[hintsofhoney]

Ladies With Experience

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?

Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader

Word Count: 5k

A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”

You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.

“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.” 

And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table. 

The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you. 

Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.

Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.

“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.

Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans. 

“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”

“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”

You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.

Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel. 

You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.

“I’ll get her,” Dean said. 

Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside. 

You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat. 

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.

“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you. 

The question caught you off guard.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”

“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”

He replied with a knowing look.

You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.

But not this . You couldn’t tell him this. 

You shook your head. 

“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.

“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever . 

His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long. 

“Was it something I said?” he prodded. 

You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation. 

He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.

“Do I at least get a hint?”

“Dean, I —”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”

Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been. 

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”

You didn’t respond.

He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it. 

Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish. 

“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?” 

You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.

“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”

“Romantic,” you quipped.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”

You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you croaked.

“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”

“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them. 

“Of whatever you want.”

“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart. 

You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“No, that’s not what I —”

You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.

“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”

Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”

“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—” 

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”

He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”

“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point. 

“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”

“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”

You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.

“Why do you know that?”

God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”

“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”

Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too. 

“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly. 

Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”

His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”

“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”

“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core. 

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”

“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him. 

“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.

“Telling Sammy to beat it.”

Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”

He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”

“Why not!?”

“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it. 

“Oh my God,” you began.

“Shut up.”

“You did not just say that.”

“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”

“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased. 

“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.

You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money. 

Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision. 

You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead. 

“Ladies first.”

“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”

He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.

“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.

He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.

“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.

“Promise.”

“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.

“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.

You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.

You tilted your head in question.

“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”

“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid. 

He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —

“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on. 

You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”

He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.

“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”

“And how’s that?”

He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.

“Like the fucking brat you are.”

You almost came from that alone. 

Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys  in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place. 

“Do your worst.”

It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked. 

When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”

You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”

“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”

“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”

“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”

“Put me in my place,” you repeated.

“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”

Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.” 

You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core. 

Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this . 

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.

“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early. 

“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.

You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening. 

“Hold it,” he ordered.

Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.

“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.

“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”

You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then — 

He stopped.

He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.

You whined.

He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it. 

“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.

“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you. 

You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.” 

His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you. 

He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.

“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.

“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”

“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”

He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”

Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.

He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him. 

“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.

“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.

He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it. 

“Dean,” you breathed.

“Hm?”

“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.

You decided you liked “baby” better. 

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”

You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”

His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said. 

“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his. 

You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around. 

“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”

You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.

“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.

“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?” 

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?” 

His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hm. But not this time, right?”

“Y/N —” he warned.

“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”

For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.

“Color?” he questioned roughly.

“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.

Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits. 

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind. 

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more. 

“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter. 

“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily. 

He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out. 

“Good?” he asked.

“So fucking good.”

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out. 

“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”

He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame. 

“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —

“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”

And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.

“More than,” you smiled.

He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —

“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”

He snorted. “They’re half right.”

“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”

You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”

“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”

“It was perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”