#i think. i'm pretty sure there was a point

[troglobite]

possibly annoying addition, apologies, but for anyone curious (not a judgment on op or posting the photos, bc point successfully made--adding on bc there's a cool link to add, mainly, and bc i think it's helpful to explain this sort of thing):

photos 2 and 3 are real. 2 i know for a fact, as it was done by this woman (which dope to know in case you want to commission her, or want to look into this skill yourself as a cheaper way to get the stained glass effect)

https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/329255422757544676/

3 turns up a few photos of the same exact window with the same details but from different angles, and with different items in the shelf. unclear on the source, but seems to be a real window--i think. https://www.instagram.com/artndetails/p/C5D8On7Lo-p/?img_index=3 could be a very elaborate fake/edit.

photo 1 i'm on the fence about, as i can't find a source for it and it's just been reposted to hell and back--BUT the details and lighting look symmetrical, logical, consistent, and legit enough.

the last 3 are all fake/AI generated. the grand staircase one has extremely odd details that don't remain consistent or logical and seems to be a bad dupe of a legit stained glass window in a grand staircase, and the last two have dozens and dozens of similar photos that turn up with the same color scheme, themes, angles, and lighting, but all slightly different--as though they've come from the same round of prompts put into an image generator.

as a note for telling which were real before i did reverse image searches to double check:

the molding on the floors and walls of the second photo were consistent and identical everywhere in the photo. the carpeting had texture and inconsistencies and shows real wear and tear on the steps, where ppl most often walk. the light shining through the windows onto the wall matches the windows as seen pretty much exactly. the bees plastered onto the walls are *all identical* as they're the same decal over and over again. someone pointed out the railing as an inconsistency--but they simply don't see how the poles connect to the steps. each one is offset slightly (so likely 2 per most steps), and the number of poles isn't meant to match the number of steps. the patterns on the poles themselves, and of the poles, is consistent and identical throughout. there's also the implication of railing on the lower level behind the railing that's visible.

the first photo seems most likely real to me because of its symmetrical nature, the real believable texture of the glass and lighting, and the logical consistency of what's seen through the glass--it looks like there's a front porch, a street, and someone's lawn across the way. this is also very similar to real stained glass that i've seen done, and it makes sense that it would be exactly identical on both sides, though with variations in color, even though it's in reverse--you work off of patterns for this stuff, so mirroring a pattern and reproducing it for the other half would be easy.

photo 3 i'm significantly less sure about, but finding multiple photos of this window with details--that don't look fake--being identical between each photo, even though they're at different times of day and from different angles leads me to believe it may be real. the view through the glass is difficult, but it looks like seriously frosted/texture glass looking out onto a courtyard. one of the photos has the top tulips look more orange, but unclear if that's just because of the lighting. as is, the only tells that it MIGHT be real without reverse image searching is the clear logical consistency of the lighting--the crystal lamp has refracted light mostly correctly, and the colors and shapes of the light through the window is also correct. the window pulls, knobs, and shelves are all the same from photo to photo, and everything seems to respond to the light in roughly the same way.

tells it may be fake: it's just a weird fucking design. lol the dog is miss a paw, it's much smaller, there's a really badly shaped white flower in the bottom right corner, there's no source, and it's a very plain white room that looks out on??? a courtyard maybe? it feels disjointed and weird. hard to tell on this one, and even harder because it's been reposted a lot, including the photos from other angles, so a source is hard to find.

i've already said, briefly, what's wrong with photo 4. the stair railing (the iron is in incomprehensible shapes that don't repeat), the molding and details on the wall (they should match, and they don't--e.g., there's an embellishment high up on the right side that appears nowhere else on any wall), the "tree" that's either visible through the window or part of the window's design, and the fuzzy lack of clarity of objects in any of the designs (stair railing, crest of the window, elements on the walls) are giveaways that it's fake.

photo 5--all the things i noted about the real photos is true in the reverse here. the light through the window makes no sense. it doesn't match what's in the window, and there's no tinted color coming through. the way the light hits the walls, period, makes no logistical sense--there's no clear source of light that would account for ALL the light as seen. what's seen through the window--which isn't frosted and should therefore be clear--is fuzzy and inconsistent and doesn't clearly show us what's outside, unlike the first photo. it might be a generic landscape that's sort of patchy. the wall textures are bizarre and not to scale and don't appear to be any logical wall material. the pink looks like plaster, but the wall underneath the sill looks like cork that's been significantly zoomed in on. additionally, the flowers do not look the same and do not look like one species of flower. the top flower also has an incorrect petal, and the top leaves blend into a weird swoosh shape.

photo 6 is harder and more subtle. the giveaways/suspicions here are partly bc i've seen several AI photos like this before. but mainly, the tells are an unclear source of light: there are multiple points of different brightness--the lights under the hood make no sense. are they yellow, as seen on the backsplash/wall, or are they white, as seen through the glass itself? and unclear consistency on the texture and opacity of the glass itself. additionally, there are knobs missing on the visible drawers and cabinets. the view out the window doesn't appear logical or real, and doesn't appear to match the level of light in the room. the tile pattern on the backsplash--while believable at first glance--is also asymmetrical in a pretty significant way. the rows of color on the right and left aren't the same width, and the shape at the top point isn't a clear shape or symbol. it should be a flower or fleur de lis or something, but it's asymmetrical and has wayward pieces of tile in a way that seems clumsy, for something that looks like it should be precise. the items on the counter also don't make sense--they don't really hold up to close inspection. the oven itself looks mostly fine, which makes sense since there are so many images to pull details from and they're pretty standard/similar across the board.

If I won the lottery I wouldn't tell anyone, but there would be signs.

[taeyongdoyoung]

t-t-teach me

summary: college life sucks. but at least you get to study with the hottest guy on campus... pairing: soobin x reader genre: college au, slight angst, smut, colleagues to study buddies to lovers warnings: academic setting, studying, mild allusions to anxiety/insecurities, reader is older than soobin, kissing, praise kink, size kink, handjob, fingering, lots of touching, protected sex (gasp), manipulation if you squint but it's all consensual, some lyrics references as usual author's note: someone on social media commented that soobin's "t-t-teach me" part in love language lowkey sounds like "t-t-touch me" and i couldn't get it out of my head so here we are... word count: 2.2k

Your college life is pretty boring. Study, eat, study some more, eat again, sleep, repeat. So, when your most handsome colleague (in your humble opinion) asks you to help him study for the upcoming exams, you are tempted to agree.

"Pleaseee, Y/N," Soobin begs so cutely. The way his glasses are slightly tilted doesn't help your case. "I can even pay you!"

"I don't want your money, Soobin," you shake your head, determined to play with him a little longer. After all, it is not every day that such a hot guy acknowledges your existence.

"What do you want, then? I'd do anything, I really need to pass, my whole future depends on it."

"Well, shouldn't you have studied throughout the year?" you tease him. "Instead of, I don't know, partying or whatever it is you and your squad do."

"I don't even go to parties. I'm just in my dorm playing games all the time."

"Case in point," you tsk, pretending to be disappointed.

"Okay, I realize I should have taken the courses more seriously, but can you please consider it?"

"What's in it for me?"

"I told you already, the sky is the limit. Just t-t-teach me the material," he stammers sweetly. "When the professors do it, I literally can't focus and understand anything."

"You do realize this isn't an easy task, right? We have less than a month until finals. Even if I do help you study…I can't promise you'll pass."

"Where's your confidence, teacher?" Soobin pouts.

"I haven't agreed yet!"

"Oh, but you just did," Soobin is too adorable to say 'no' to.

So, this is how it starts. Every day, after your lectures end, you go to Soobin's dorm to study. You use every method that has been helpful for you throughout the years. Highlights, flashcards, quizzes, you try everything and anything in order to help Soobin understand the material. At the end of each week you prepare a short test that is meant to aid Soobin in revising the most important information. The first week, his results are disastrous. You honestly don't see any hope but you promised him you'd try your best so you keep modifying the material in order to improve his understanding. The second week, his results are still below average, but slightly better. By the third week, he has definitely reached the expected pass level.

"My God, Soobin, this is amazing progress!" you praise him honestly.

"Really? You think I'd be able to pass?" he asks, still worried about the upcoming exams.

"If you keep up the great work, you surely will," you are confident that he'll make it. "We have one more week until the first exam, I'm sure we'll manage to cover some more ground and revise the essentials."

"Yeah, I think there's still enough time to stick to the plan you made," Soobin nods thoughtfully.

"Here's an idea that might be motivational. If you pass all your exams, I'll reward you."

"Reward me how?" Soobin eyes you curiously.

"However you like."

"What about me paying you back?" Soobin reminds you of the original deal.

"You can just buy me dinner at that sushi place near the university," you suggest simply.

"Sounds good. I'll do my best to pass."

"I know you can do it!" at this point, you genuinely believe in him and are amazed to see how much he's improved.

The exam period starts sooner than you'd like and you now have less time for your study sessions with Soobin, prioritizing individual preparation instead. Honestly, you kind of miss seeing his pretty face every day and explaining things to him. Talking about the material out loud has been helpful for you, as well. The final exams pass by in a flash and now you only have to wait one more week for the results to come out.

"How do you think you did?" you ask Soobin on the phone.

"Ugh, don't ask," he complains. "Even though I felt like we covered all the material, having to explain it in my own words and provide examples was so draining. I have no idea how I did but don't get your hopes up."

"I see," you reply with a sigh.

"I'm not gonna ask how you did, because I'm pretty sure you nailed them," Soobin shuts down any possibility of boasting before it even started.

"Hey, the exams were pretty difficult for me, too," you mumble shyly.

"Yeah, yeah, talk to me again when you flaunt those 100 points."

"Just because I tend to get high results most of the time, doesn't mean I don't struggle," you express your feelings a little harsher than intended.

Soobin is stunned into silence.

"Sorry, that was insensitive of me to say. I guess I never realized how much effort you put into studying."

"It's okay, I'm used to being misunderstood," you answer sheepishly.

"Just because you're used to it, doesn't make it okay. Get some rest. You sure deserve it."

"You too, Soobin."

And with that, the phone call ends. Tensions run high as you anxiously check your email once every two hours for results. You probably care more about this than you should. Only this time your own results are not the only thing on your mind. You really want Soobin to be satisfied with the work he's done. Because you feel like you poured more energy into helping him and you would really hate to see him fail. Not only because you'd feel responsible for it, but because you genuinely like him and want to see him happy.

After what feels like forever, the results are out. Of course, you can only see your own due to privacy reasons. But you know Soobin has also received the same email as every other student. It is only the content that varies. You quickly check your stats and though you didn't get a 100 points everywhere, as Soobin jokingly suggested, you are still pretty proud of yourself. You eagerly grab your phone, meaning to call Soobin when you stop yourself in the last second.

What if he didn't pass all the exams? What if he doesn't want to talk about it? So, instead, you wait until he contacts you first. Luckily, you don't wait long.

"Come over" is the simple message he sends you.

You put on a jacket and practically sprint to his dorm. Is he okay? Is he inviting you over to celebrate or to drink his sorrows away? Your mind races and so do your legs as you near his room. A hesitant knock on his door. A quiet "It's open".

You cautiously enter and study Soobin's expressions in an attempt to read the room. He doesn't look depressed but he doesn't look ecstatic either. What's going on? You just need to know, the uncertainty is killing you.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Soobin asks you coldly.

"Uh…good news?" you mumble, feeling more nervous about whatever he has to say than about your own results.

"Good news is I passed all my exams. I got between 60 and 75 points on most of them."

"That's…incredible! Congratulations, Soobin!" you exclaim proudly. "I'm really happy for you! Wait…what are the bad news, then?"

"The bad news is…you promised me a reward," he whispers darkly.

"Why is that bad news?" you are utterly confused, as you sit down on the couch next to him. "You deserve to be rewarded, you worked so hard to accomplish this."

"That's true, but…I'm not sure you'll like the way I want to be rewarded."

"Anything is okay," you vow, not knowing what's in store for you. "I'll keep my word."

"Oh, I know you will," Soobin smirks and crashes his lips against yours, shocking you completely. Is this really happening? Did you just…both pass all your exams and are now kissing with the hottest guy in your university to celebrate?

"T-t-touch me," he begs so prettily who are you to reject him?

"Where do you want me to touch you?" you easily agree.

He grabs your hand and slides it under his shirt so that you are now caressing his abs. Fuck, his skin is so smooth and hard.

"You're so pretty," you mutter what you've been thinking every time you see him.

"I try to look my best for you," Soobin admits.

"Shut up," you shake your head in disbelief.

"Yes, teacher," he teases you.

"Don't call me that," you groan.

"What would you prefer? Ma'am?"

"Ugh, no, that makes me feel old," your eyes roll.

"Well, you are older than me. How about noona?" Soobin blinks cutely.

"Oh my God, do you ever shut up?"

"Touch me somewhere else," he doesn't ask this time, he demands. You don't even have the time to ask where he'd like to be touched before he's grabbed your wrist again and moves it right on top of his clothed cock. You're seriously gonna die. You're gonna die right in this moment and you won't even go to that cute sushi place. "Take my jeans off."

Your hands are shaking but you do your best to follow Soobin's orders. All your academic knowledge is completely useless in this moment. What you lack in practice, you try to make up for with enthusiasm. Stroking his length and licking him softly seem to do the trick and Soobin grows harder under your touch.

"Why are you so pretty?" you can't help but marvel.

"It's both a blessing and a curse," Soobin grunts loudly. "Wait, stop."

You immediately halt your movements, letting go of his cock.

"Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" you ask nervously, almost getting teary-eyed at the thought.

"What? No, you're doing amazing, I just…didn't want to come yet."

"Oh, I see," you reply, even though you can't see shit. "When do you want to come?"

"Wrong question, teacher," Soobin disregards your preference for not being called that. But in this moment, you no longer care. "Replace the wh-word with another wh-word."

"Hmm," you ponder out loud. "Where do you want to come?"

"Inside you. If you'd let me."

"Erm, I'm not sure…" you try to find a polite say that you are not really interested in getting pregnant at this point of your life.

"Relax, I've got condoms," Soobin laughs at you gently. "We can save the risky activities for after graduation."

He's already thinking that far into the future?

Soobin touches your folds gently, trying to ease your worries.

"Does it feel good?"

"So good, Soobin," you confess.

"Yeah?" he smirks proudly, as his long finger stretches you open. "Bet I can teach you a thing or two myself."

"I believe you," you sigh wistfully, as you near your high.

While Soobin puts on protection, you try to think of a logical solution as to how this will work. Honestly, you are too wet to care but his enormous size is still intimidating. Your brain seems incapable of coming up with a formula, so you give up entirely. Thinking only makes it worse.

When he slides inside of you, the feeling is so overwhelming you need something to keep you from falling apart.

"Talk to me," you beg.

"What do you want me to talk about?" Soobin asks.

"Anything."

"Linguistics is the scientific study of language. The areas of linguistic analysis are syntax, morphology, phonetics and-"

"Oh my God, really?" you scoff in disbelief. "Exams are over, let's put that behind us."

"What's your love language?" Soobin wants to know.

"Probably words of affirmation. What's yours?"

"Same. Quality time, as well," he responds.

"Oh yeah, definitely," you agree.

"You're taking me so well," Soobin immediately puts the newfound knowledge to use.

"You're fucking me so well," you whisper sincerely.

And this is all it takes for you two burst in each other's arms, experiencing pleasure like never before.

Once you've dutifully helped clean each other up and are cozied up underneath the sheets, the time for a more serious conversation arrives.

"I don't wanna lose this," Soobin gestures in the air between the two of you.

"We can keep studying together," you reply dumbly.

"That's not what I meant," Soobin chuckles. "Wanna spend time with you. We don't have to be studying, we can watch movies and I can teach you how to play games and…other stuff."

"I like the sound of that," you smile warmly.

"Actually, I have a confession to make," Soobin blurts out.

"Oh?"

"Deep down, I knew I'd pass the exams somehow," Soobin whispers. "I just couldn't be bothered to study. Needed an excuse to get close to you."

You can't even be mad at him.

"I have a confession, as well," you say in return. "I agreed to help you because I wanted to know more about you. I could tell you're smart."

"Is it the glasses?" Soobin pouts adorably, tilting his head to the side.

"Nah, you just give off that…sexy nerdy vibe. Glasses or no glasses."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is. From one nerd to another."

"I can live with that," Soobin flicks your nose playfully.

"You still owe me sushi, by the way. For helping you study."

"Oh, teacher. Sushi is not the only thing you'll be eating tonight."

The End

[jester-privilege]

Villain Stone is definitely what I'm hoping to see from Sonic 4, so I tried my hand drawing him - mind you, in my design he's a bit of a hot mess, with Robotnik's old coat repurposed and patched up, and with longer hair and beard (and the sunglasses, just because those are fun).

Then I ended up deciding to write a short piece for this Stone, which could be a beginning of a longer fic. Text under the cut:

Stone gives himself a year to grieve. A year for the Earth to rotate, for the people to recover. To forget. 

He doesn’t stay idle, of course. He uses the emergency bank card in his shoe to leave England. Flies back to the United States. Rents a car and drives to Idaho. 

The Doctor liked the idea of putting a secret bunker in Idaho, mostly because nobody would ever expect it to be in Idaho. 

Stone stocks up on food at a nearby town, and hunkers down. For the first two months, he looks at trees. Eats. Reads the Doctor’s old notes, downloaded once he was able to connect to the private network. And he thinks. 

When Stone was thirteen, a couple came to the orphanage. Friendly, wealthy-looking, hopeful. For some reason, they spoke to Stone, who gave off one-word answers. The next day, Stone was pulled into the director’s office. Told that there would be another meeting with the couple, with the prospect of fostering him, with adoption in mind. 

When the couple came back, a few days later, Stone made a point of walking up to a boy two years his senior and breaking that boy’s nose. He still remembers the couple’s shocked faces - the director’s panic, the boy wailing in surprise as blood poured down his face. That boy, who Stone had found annoying at the time, had looked at him with an expression he could not back then quite parse. It wasn’t until later that Stone recalled that he’d been smiling. 

Smiling, Stone learned later, in the right context could put people at ease. 

After a few months, Stone starts to plan. He runs out of supplies fast, but he has emergency funds, he has contacts, and he has a pick-up truck. For the next few weeks, Stone hunts down mechanical and electrical parts, and calls in favours. In the evenings, he begins to build a database of G.U.N, collecting schematics and personnel files. It helps that he still remembers where the bodies are buried, and which people are the weak links. 

Around month six, Stone travels back to London, purchases a coffee shop near the G.U.N headquarters, and takes it over. It’s a particular favourite of many of the bigwigs in G.U.N, and Stone makes sure to keep the operations running exactly as they did before. Give or take a few listening devices. 

One time, the Doctor had asked him if he was dating anyone. Of course, he hadn’t phrased it quite like that. 

“So, should I presume that you have some sort of paramour, Agent?” Robotnik had said, his head bowed towards the chip he was soldering. “Note my lack of assumptions about their gender. Don’t care, don’t need to know, read the HR memo!” 

Stone had swallowed down his initial response, which was to point out that Robotnik had asked. Instead he smiled, standing attentively with the tool case in hand. 

“I’m unattached, Doctor. Free as a bird.” 

Robotnik gave him a sharp glance, with something odd flashing across his face, there one moment and gone in the next. He’d turned back to his work, moustache twitching. 

“What, no takers? Pretty pathetic, Stone, I gotta say. At least I have the excuse of my prize-winning personality.” 

“I’m not interested,” Stone had said, mildly. “I don’t like most people.” 

This, for some reason, had attracted the Doctor's attention - the man had turned and looked at him again, brows raised.  

“You don’t like people? You, Stone? You’re always grinning at everyone like an idiot!” 

Stone had grinned at the Doctor, like an idiot, just happy that the Doctor paid that much attention to him. 

“Adapting certain positive mannerisms makes it easier to navigate social interactions, Doctor. The only person I actually like is you. Everyone else I simply tolerate.” 

The Doctor had looked at him for a moment longer, studying him. He wasn’t the first person Stone had told about his lack of interest in the general humanity, but he was the first one who didn’t look at him like he was some kind of a monster. Of course he didn’t. He was the Doctor. 

“You’re an odd little man, Stone,” Robotnik had said then, his voice tinted in genuine amusement. “No wonder you made such a good merc. You little sociopath, you.” 

“Not diagnosed,” Stone had responded cheerfully. 

“Huh! Well, whatever - at least I don’t have to worry about you running off to fornicate with some Suburban Sally, or - Barbeque Bob,” Robotnik had added hastily. “No assumptions, of course.” 

Stone had bitten the inside of his cheek, to swallow his initial response. Not very work appropriate. Instead, he’d just smiled. 

“Of course, sir.” 

Doctor Robotnik had been the only person he’d cared about, and now he was gone. 

Stone barely sleeps. He stops grooming himself. The shadows of the bunker grow longer, twist and turn as he works through the nights. Whenever he closes his eyes, the shape of the explosion burns inside his eyelids. 

He’d been content, for as long as the Doctor was by his side. He’d been happy to be domesticated, to be soft.

He’d been happy. 

By month twelve, Stone packs up his meager possessions and loads them into his truck. The time for grieving alone was over. He was ready to share the pain. With the whole world.

He starts the long drive towards Montana.

[soluversworld]

I hope I'm doing this right but I have a request for 50 shades of Redacted/Ren The ideas been in my head for ages!

Reader finds out a certain someone has been sneaking into their house at night to steal their underwear, reader catches Ren or Redacted in the act and reader after catching Ren/Redacted ties him to a chair to “interrogate”(tease) him and then things get steamy?

It would be a nice change of pace to see a more dominant/teasing reader

Genre: smut

Summary: — Reader finds out a certain someone has been sneaking into their house at night to steal their underwear, reader catches Ren or Redacted in the act and reader after catching Ren/Redacted ties him to a chair to “interrogate”(tease) him and then things get steamy?

It would be a nice change of pace to see a more dominant/teasing reader

I decided to make both of them switch, My friend asked for a DOM REDACTED for this request too..

THEN YOU SMASH!!

( Reader is a g.n!)

Content/Trigger warnings

Explicit Sexual Content (NSFW)

Dom/Sub Dynamics (Teasing, control, and edging)

Praise Kink

Strong Emotional Intimacy

Light Roughness (Biting, marking, possessive touch)

Overstimulation

Did not proof read/Rushed.

[REDACTED] had always been meticulous. Quiet as a shadow, gliding through the house like it belonged to him. Like you belonged to him.

Well, For fuck sake- You moved with him 5 months ago. Today, You're sleeping alone because you're little mad at him. (It's very silly)

And in a way, you did. You just didn’t know it yet.

But tonight? Tonight was different. Maybe it was the creak of the door. Maybe it was the way the floorboard near your bed gave just a little under his weight. Or maybe, just maybe, you’d finally gotten tired of pretending you didn’t notice your favorite underwear disappearing one by one.

So you waited. Pretending to sleep, breathing steady. Listening.

And sure enough—

A breath. A shuffle. The whisper of your dresser drawer sliding open.

You moved fast.

The lights snapped on. [REDACTED] froze like a deer in headlights, your underwear still dangling from his fingers. Their pink-purple hair was a mess, slightly curled at the ends from the soft humidity of the night. His cheeks flushed a deep red, eyes wide and glinting with something that wasn’t quite shame. It was darker. Needier.

“Angel—” he started, but you were already grabbing the belt off your robe.

“Sit. In. The. Chair.” You pointed toward the wooden one by your desk. It was sturdy, high-backed. Perfect.

“…Y’don’t gotta do that,” he mumbled, shifting awkwardly. “Was just… lookin’.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you were looking for.” You took slow steps toward him, the belt hanging loosely in your hand. "Go on. Sit down, pretty guy."

His breath caught. Still flushed, he obeyed.

You worked efficiently, looping the belt around his wrists and securing them to the slats of the chair. Not too tight—yet. Just enough to keep him still.

“Y’really gonna tie me up?” he drawled, smirking through his flush. “Y’plannin’ on punishin’ me, Angel?”

“You broke into my room to sniff my panties. I think that earns you at least an interrogation.”

“Didn’t break in… live here too,” he muttered, eyes flicking down to where your thighs were now perfectly visible thanks to your raised hemline. “And I didn’t sniff ‘em. Not yet.”

You arched a brow and stepped between his legs, resting your hands on his knees. “So you admit it.”

He smiled, all teeth. “Y’know I’d never lie to you.”

“Come on! REDACTED! It's only for one night.'” you said softly, voice edged with playful danger. “Even though we live under the same roof.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured. “You're just so damn soft… 'n warm… smell like heaven. S'why I can't stop.”

You leaned down until your faces were inches apart, lips brushing against his ear.

“Well, since you’re already in trouble… why don’t we see just how far you’re willing to go for what you want?”

A shiver ran down their spine.

You ran your fingers under the collar of their oversized sweater, tugging it down just enough to expose the delicate chain around his neck—and the quickening beat of his pulse.

He was beautiful like this. Flushed. Tied up. Breathing heavy while pretending not to care. His eyes were half-lidded now, that same sleepy lust pooling like ink.

“Tell me, REDACTED. How long have you been sneaking into my room? When I lived at Rat's kingdom's apartment?” You stick out your tongue, expect for Vi- You hated at place.

He paused. You tightened the belt slightly, just enough to dig into their skin. He hissed, then chuckled lowly.

“….”

Your hand slid down their chest, feeling his breath catch.

“And what do you do when you're in here?”

He hesitated again.

He groaned.

“Look at you. So cocky, but now that I’ve got you tied up, you can’t even answer a simple question.”

His voice dropped, breathless. “Touch myself… sometimes. Just… look. Smell. Pretend you’re there.”

“Oh?” You rocked your hips ever so slightly, watching the way his breath stuttered. “Do you imagine me doing this?”

“Fuck… Angel—”

You cupped their cheek, soft and sweet. He actually shivered.

“You’d jump if I said I loved you, wouldn’t you?”

Their eyes immediately shined over. You saw it—just for a second—the complete unraveling of that dangerous, apathetic persona. He leaned into your hand like a starving man.

“I would,” he whispered. “God, I would.”

You leaned in, lips just barely touching his. “Too bad I won't say it.”

He whimpered.

But then, something in him cracked. His smirk returned—wobbly, desperate, but still him.

“Y’keep this up, Angel,” he drawled, voice low and fraying, “I’m gonna break this chair and fuck you into the mattress.”

You ground down on him, slowly, deliberately.

“No, you won’t. Because if you do… I’ll stop.”

He went utterly still beneath you.

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Good boy.”

He trembled.

“Say it,” you demanded.

“…Good boy f' you” he repeated, wrecked and breathless.

You smiled and dragged your nails down his chest, leaving butterfly kisses, that peeked through his turtleneck. Their head dropped back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut, hips bucking instinctively.

You were in control. Completely.

You leaned close again, this time letting your lips press firmly to his. It started slow—soft, almost sweet—but the moment his tongue brushed yours, it was over.

He kissed like a man starved. Like he’d been waiting years for this exact moment. And maybe he had.

You pulled back just long enough to whisper against his lips, “You’ll ask permission next time, won’t you?”

He nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, fuck, anything you want—”

“Shh,” you said, pressing a finger to his mouth. “I want to do something with you a little longer.”

He moaned under his breath, already hard and straining beneath his pants.

You rocked your hips again, slow and torturous, watching as he fought against the urge to buck. He was shaking.

“I could leave you like this,” you murmured. “Tied up."

He whimpered.

“But I won’t. Because I want you to remember how it feels when I make you fall apart.”

“Angel, please—”

You kissed them again, harder this time. Wet and possessive. Biting their bottom lip just hard enough to make them gasp.

And when you pulled back again, their eyes were glazed, lips swollen, panting.

“I think you’ve been punished enough,” you said sweetly.

“…You gonna untie me now?”

You smirked.

“No.”

You slipped your hand between his legs.

He was already half gone. Breath ragged, hips twitching under you, wrists still bound to the chair like a pretty little prize you’d won. His hair stuck to his forehead in soft waves, tips brushing their flushed cheeks.

And you?

You looked like sin perched in his lap.

“You gonna keep squirming, buttercup?” you purred, voice like velvet, “Or are you gonna behave like a good love and let me play?”

REDACTED whimpered—actually whimpered—as you rolled your hips again, dragging along the length of their through the fabric.

“F-fuck, Angel—y’can’t keep doin’ that, I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna what?” you tilted your head.

Your fingers brushed the metal of his nipple piercing. He sucked in a sharp breath.

Oh.

So that’s what got them.

You smirked and pinched it—not hard. Just enough to test it. He choked on a moan, head lolling back against the chair with a shudder.

“Well, well,” you hummed, voice sickly sweet, “I should’ve known you were this filthy. To be honest, we both are damned for each other but I guess, For Tonight- I enjoy being on top of you."

He mumbled something low and shaky—“only for you”—and you rewarded him with a slow drag of your tongue along the shell of his ear, nipping just below his piercings.

“Y’keep teasin’ me like this, I swear t’god—” Their words died in his throat as you moved to straddle them fully, thighs spread on either side of theirs.

“Swear to God what?” you asked, rocking forward deliberately as your fingers dipped . “You gonna do something about it? Gonna fuck me into the chair like you said?”

REDACTED’s hips jerked up helplessly. “Fuck—can’t like this—m’arms—”

“That’s the point,” you whispered, dragging your nails up his stomach. “You’re not supposed to do anything. Just sit there and take it.”

He whimpered again, utterly pliant under you. Revealing pale skin marred with black ink—lines of kanji, wisps of waves, bold strokes twisting up his arm in the form of dragons and koi fish.

Jesus, why did he hide such a beauty while he was pretending to be Ren?

“Oh my god,” you laughed, leaning down to kiss it. “You are so obsessed.”

Their breath hitched. “Only you,” he rasped. “Told you... I’d do anythin’ for you.”

You kissed a trail , pausing just over one of his coding tattoos. “Wanted to ask you, Is this... a password?”

He groaned. “Y’already got my heart, figured you might as well have access to my email.”

“Fucking- REDACTED!” you giggled, but your hand slid lower, teasing “

He shook his head slowly.

You sucked a breath through your teeth. “God, you’re a.....”

And he moaned. Like that word alone unraveled him.

His cock slapped up against his stomach, already hard and leaking, the metal of his Jacob’s Ladder catching the light.

Your mouth went dry.

“...Well? Remember when you teased me back at the Library- Making me count how many times you.....pumped me in?” you asked, voice thick with lust.

REDACTED was panting now, his head tilted back, eyes dark and desperate.

“Might’ve been thinkin’ about how good it’d feel inside you,” he said, voice hoarse. “Been dreamin’ of it, Angel. You bouncin’ on my cock, squeezin’ ‘round the piercings—fuck—”

You leaned forward and dragged your tongue slowly up the shaft, letting the cold metal roll against your lips.

He howled.

“Shit—shitshitshit—Angel, please—” His hips bucked instinctively, only for you to pull back and slap his thigh.

“Ah, ah,” you tsked. “You move without permission again, and I’ll leave you tied here all night.”

REDACTED whined, trembling.

You lined yourself up and sank down slowly, letting him feel every single inch, every bump of his piercing dragging deliciously against your walls.

He sobbed.

You hadn’t even moved yet and he already looked ruined. Sweater pushed up over his chest, metal glinting from his piercings, eyes wet and glossy.

And when you finally rolled your hips—just once, testing—he let out a strangled, “Please, Angel, pleasepleaseplease—”

You smiled.

“God, I love you like this.”

His breath hitched.

“I didn’t say I love you,” you teased, leaning down to kiss the heart-shaped tattoo on his neck that said angel. “But I love watching you fall apart.”

Then you rode them.

Hard.

Every grind sent their head lolling back against the chair, his abs tightening under your touch, the metal of his piercings pulling sweet friction that made you tremble. His voice cracked under the pressure, cursing, begging, worshiping your name like it was the only word he knew.

“Angel, fuck, Angel, y’feel so good—can’t hold it—m’gonna come—”

“Not yet,” you growled, tightening your grip on his jaw. “Not until I say.”

You bounced harder, chasing your own high, letting the stretch and heat and metal ruin you just as much as it ruined him. Every drag of him inside made you cry out, made your thighs quake.

“Please,” he gasped. “Please let me come, Angel, m’so close, can’t take it—”

“You gonna beg like a good boy?”

He nodded desperately, tears clinging to his lashes.

“Say it.”

“Please, Angel—please let me come—I’ve been good, been so fuckin’ good for you—”

You leaned forward, lips brushing his again.

“Come for me.”

The second he heard it, he broke.

REDACTED came hard, cock twitching inside you, thick ropes spilling as he moaned loud and wrecked, their whole body convulsing under your touch. You followed not long after, burying your nails in his shoulders, the pleasure dragging you under.

When it finally faded, you collapsed against them, still breathless, his cock softening inside you as the sweat on your bodies mingled.

He was shaking.

You kissed the corner of his mouth.

He whimpered.

“I’m gonna untie you now,” you whispered, “but if you ever steal my underwear again...”

His eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy.

“You’ll punish me again?” he rasped.

You smirked. “You want that?”

He grinned, slow and drunk on you. “Only if y’ride me again.”

You laughed.

“God, you’re hopeless.”

“But m’yours,” he whispered, voice rough and raw and devastatingly sincere. “Always.”

You were still catching your breath, sweat cooling on your skin, when you reached up to start untying him.

Big mistake.

The second the last knot slipped free, he moved—fast. Strong hands grabbed your waist, and before you could blink, he flipped you onto your back, dragging you down the bed with him until your spine hit the mattress.

“REDACTED—?!” you started, but his mouth was already on your neck, hot and open and claiming.

"Thought y’could tie me up and ride me like a toy," he murmured, voice ragged and low against your skin. “That was real cute, Angel.”

Your legs trembled as he slotted himself between them, Their weight caging you in. He was still panting, flushed and glistening, their hair a wild halo around his sharp face—but there was something dark in his eyes now. Unleashed.

“You’re the one who came in my room,” you gasped, trying to sass through the heat that pooled low in your gut.

He chuckled darkly, dragging his teeth down your jaw.

“And you’re the one who left me tied up,” he growled. “Now I’m thinkin’ it’s your turn to be ruined.”

Then he rocked his hips down, his still-sensitive cock rubbing against your entrance. You gasped, and he smiled—feral.

“That’s it,” he drawled, grinding slow, lazy. “S’posed to be my sweet Angel. But I want to be the one breakin’ the rules. You're okay with this..?"

You nodded.

Well,

Make up!

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one big hand.

His other hand slid down between your legs, brushing through your slick, teasing your sex.

“Y’already this wet again?” he whispered, eyes locked on your face, drinking in your reactions like it gave him life. “Fuck. Guess you really liked my piercings, huh?”

You moaned, arching up into him—and he pushed in without warning, bottoming out with a guttural groan. The stretch, the metal, the heat—it knocked the air right out of your lungs.

“F-fuck—REDACTED!—”

“Shhh,” he hushed, leaning in to kiss your temple sweetly. “I got you, Angel. Just let me make you feel good.”

Then he started to ride you.

And not gently.

REDACTED’s hips snapped into you like he had something to prove—each thrust deep and brutal, dragging every ridge of his piercing inside you until your legs wrapped tight around his waist. His hand gripped your wrists like iron, keeping you trapped beneath him.

"You teased me," he rasped. "Made me beg. Had me cryin’ in that fuckin’ chair."

He pulled out slow—just the tip left in—before slamming back in so hard the headboard rattled.

“Now it’s your turn.”

You cried out, thighs shaking, body overstimulated—but he didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down.

“Ohh, you're gonna cry f’me now?” he cooed, biting down hard enough on your collarbone to leave a mark. “Yeah... yeah, that’s it, Angel. Wanna see those pretty tears. Want y’to feel everything.”

Your body clenched around him, pulsing with the oncoming orgasm, and Redacted felt it.

“Mm, there’s that grip,” he moaned. “Fuck, keep squeezin’ me like that and I’ll come again inside you.”

His hand left your wrists and grabbed your face instead—tilting it up so you couldn’t look away from him.

"You love it," he whispered. "Love bein’ under me. Love when I lose control for you."

You nodded frantically, hips jerking up to meet his thrusts, everything else turning white-hot and hazy.

Then he leaned in and bit your lower lip, tugging just enough to sting.

“Come for me,” he growled. “Right now, Angel.”

And you broke.

Your body spasmed, nails digging into his shoulders as you came hard, pulsing around his cock like you were made for it. And the second you did, REDACTED’s hips faltered—his breath caught—and then he was right behind you, groaning into your neck as he spilled inside you, deep and raw and messy.

For a long moment, all you could hear were your gasps, tangled bodies shaking against each other.

Then—

“...‘M not done,” he murmured, voice still wrecked.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “W-what?”

“I said,” he repeated, grinning with teeth now, “I’m not done.”

He rolled his hips again, still inside you, still hard.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

"I swear! I'm gonna get back at you!"

Your legs were still twitching, your whole body strung tight like an overworked wire. But Ren didn’t pull out.

He stayed buried in you, hips gently grinding, just enough to keep you on that razor edge of overstimulation.

And then he looked at you.

That cocky, smug grin softened—melted—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Angel,” he breathed, voice low and reverent. “You’re so pretty like this... y’don’t even know.”

He leaned in slowly, eyes flicking over your tear-streaked cheeks. Then his tongue darted out, slow and purposeful, and he licked a tear from the curve of your cheekbone.

“Mm,” he murmured. “Tastes sweet.”

You gasped, caught between a moan and a shiver.

He kissed the trail after, soft and warm, and then nuzzled into your face like some oversized cat—his breath ragged but his touch so gentle.

You cupped his jaw, thumb brushing the sharp angle of his cheek, and pulled him in for a kiss.

It wasn’t rushed.

It was deep—melting—your mouths moving slow and heavy as if the world had slowed just for you.

He sighed into it, his body relaxing above yours, even as his cock stayed throbbing inside you. His fingers skimmed your waist, holding you like you’d slip away if he wasn’t careful.

When you finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, slick, and his pupils were blown wide.

"...You okay?" you whispered, brushing back the damp strands of hair stuck to his temple.

He smiled, soft and almost shy now—like he hadn’t just wrecked you six ways from Sunday.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, m’okay.”

Then his smirk returned.

"But you..." he drawled, tapping your lips with two fingers. “Y’real cute when you cry. Bet y’don’t even know how good your face looks when you're beggin’. Makes me wanna ruin you real slow next time.”

Your cheeks flushed hot, and you smacked his chest weakly.

“Asshole.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“Y’love me.”

You muttered something about smug bastards, but didn’t push him away when he wrapped his arms tight around you, holding you like a furnace.

“Shhh, I got you,” he whispered again, lips brushing your ear. “Always got you, Angel.”

He stayed buried inside you, warm and pulsing, his cock twitching every time you shifted, but now it was less about teasing—more about closeness. Like he didn’t want to leave you even for a second.

And when your body trembled from another aftershock, he just tightened his hold, their fingers rubbing soft circles into your back.

“Gonna take care of you,” he murmured, kissing the space between your brows. “Always.”

[tittytania]

Not to rant. I get that having a pet peeve is a personal irk, but idk maybe my pet peeve is people who have this as a pet peeve. The author gets to decide what the progression of civilization is, and if they want it to be slow then it's slow. If having a world with a slow and plodding history works better for the environment, then that's what works better. Fantasy is there to create worlds that feel otherworldly or impossible. That's why they chose to make it thousands of years instead of hundreds. The author wants it to feel impossibly long. It just doesn't feel the same when the ancient fantasy kingdom falls in what we would consider a normal timeline, because if they're just the same as a normal place then who cares? The longest empire in all of human history is considered the Pandyan empire, which lasted, despite fluctuating on power, for around 1800 years. So I really don't think it's that big of a deal if some wizard kings have been the ruling family for 5000 years. I literally expect a fantasy empire to last much longer than any real human one.

Plus, if you really need to have realistic progression of technology in your dragon story, there's plenty of evidence in human history for things that happen slow. Technology has progressed at wildly different rates throughout history, and the speed of technological progression has been much much faster in the past few hundred years than it has been in the vast majority of human history, and it's different for the kind of items that you're looking at. Cars advanced extremely fast almost immediately after we invented them. But we invented the reed/quil style pen about 4 thousand years ago and we used those up until like 200 years ago. Parchment was invented around 2200 years ago and we used that for over a thousand years too. The horse was domesticated around 5500 years ago, and they were the dominant non walking form of transportation up until a few hundred years ago. We invented the bow and arrow around 70,000 years ago and we used some version of that until we invented guns. There's plenty of things in real life that progressed very slowly, and if an author thinks the much slower progression of technology in the past works better for the world they want to make, and so they make that apply to the whole world instead of just writing utensils, then that's perfectly fine.

Also plenty of real life human groups live in agrarian or even hunter gatherer societies to this day. That's over 60,000 years for some groups. And sure, their societies have definitely changed at some point in those times, but a lot of their practices have stayed pretty similar for an extremely long time because it continues to work for them. The speed of societal evolution is far from universal and many groups of real life people are "stuck in the past" because they don't feel the need to change so I really don't think it's that big of a deal if fantasy worlds don't have much that's new after 4000 years. They didn't make anything else because what they had was meeting their needs.

I'm getting heated at this point when it really doesn't matter, but I just don't care if my sci-fi/fantasy works have a progression of technology that mirrors our real world. Clearly there's a lot of people who do want fantasy to mirror average real word historical progression, but personally I think it's so weird to care about that. It's made up. An author just thinks a different progression of time is nicer. That's fine.

pro-tip: don't ever use the sentence "thousands of years" in your worldbuilding unless you really know what a thousand years is like

[sirfrogsworth]

So Elon has decided to skip the imminent disaster of global climate change and just move on to a calamity 5 billion years in the future.

If you ever need to understand Elon's motivations, it's all this.

Okay and a little bit the woke mind virus.

But mostly this.

He wants to get to Mars more than anything. It's why the only thing he can speak intelligently about is his rockets. He has put in the time and effort to learn about them because this is his singular passion.

A lovely Youtube physicist did a video about SpaceX and she said half of the rockets blow up and Elon just wants more money. And it was disappointing to hear her say that because she is a scientist and both things are inaccurate.

SpaceX would be an amazing company without Elon. His leadership is the only thing really holding it back. They have put lots of cool shit into space. Their Falcon program is the most productive and cheapest rocket program in history. They put more stuff into space than everyone else combined.

They had to blow up part of the graph just so you could see the competition. Half of the SpaceX rockets are *not* blowing up.

Starship is a specific prototype. It has nothing to do with their main rocket business. Starship is Elon wanting to go to Mars. It is basically him trying to send a 3 story building into space. And he keeps blowing it up because that is the fastest way to develop a rocket. He's wasting a lot of money by trying to speedrun a trip to Mars in his lifetime. And these tests are bit more like crash test data than expecting the rocket and Starship to actually function properly. It's a process and they have goals for each launch, and for the most part, they reach those goals. Any success after those goals is gravy to them. But they are pretty certain it is going to end in fireworks at this stage of development.

I don't know if they will get it to work. It would be nice because a functional spaceship that size could do a lot of cool science. But Elon's goals and NASA's goals are going to conflict in a major way at some point in the future. And I'm worried that may damage space exploration.

Starship is very different than their Falcon program. It's a science experiment. Falcons rarely blow up. They get shit to space like the James Webb telescope.

And as far as Elon just wanting more money... sort of.

His personal wealth has not been a huge concern of his for a while. Otherwise he wouldn't have let Tesla fall apart like it has. The wealth he is actually concerned about is not his own. Going to Mars is a trillion-dollar-plus endeavor. Even the richest man in the world cannot raise that much money.

Only a government could fund that.

Elon knows this. He figured it out a while ago. And when he saw an opportunity to get his hands on the government purse strings, he jumped at the chance.

He jumped in the shape of an X like a giant loser.

I'm *positive* Elon thought, "If I could save the government a trillion dollars, they'll give it to me so I can go to Mars."

But it is probably breaking his brain right now after learning he isn't this super genius who can figure out government bureaucracy in a weekend with a bunch of coding dorks.

He got depressed and realized his cool plan to get to Mars was falling apart.

Whoops.

Elon will say anything to get to Mars. He will lie about anything to get to Mars. He will consort with anyone to get to Mars. If you are ever unsure why Elon is doing something, it's to get to Mars. His moral calculus is based on this. In his delusional mind, everything is justifiable to save the human race.

He does have side quests. He wants to repopulate the Earth with his seed. And he uses IVF because you can drastically increase the odds of getting a boy if you pay extra. And he is angry at his trans daughter because he wants boys to continue his mission to spread Musk seed. He spends $50,000 extra to make sure he gets boys and she is messing with the plan.

Oh, and he really really wants people to think he is good at video games. And he wants people to like him. And he wants to kill the woke mind virus because he didn't get the boy he paid for.

But Mars is *almost* all he cares about.

Elon thinks Earth is doomed and he wants immortality from being the man who saved human civilization. He truly believes our existence is dependent on being "multiplanetary." It might be the only thing he believes.

Saving the human race is supposed to be his legacy.

And it is killing us.

[paintedrecs]

"Creative inbreeding" is such an apt term. It is, quite frankly, why I've pretty much given up on reading fantasy YA for the time being. A lot of the popular ones I'd been picking up - widely discussed, pretty covers, interesting summaries - are nearly indistinguishable from each other in terms of actual writing style.

Lead characters with copy/paste personalities. A love interest that hits all the popular tropes, even if the relationship doesn't really work within the story structure. A narrative arc that hits all the key stops along the way, like it's following a map. The same types of descriptions of food, clothing, towns, etc. I set the book down when I'm done and can't even remember who the author was without flipping back to that nicely illustrated cover.

I don't mean to criticize the authors, because obviously they're working hard, and it's amazing that they got their books out into the world. I'm just...tired of reading so many of the same stories, with different hats.

Part of it, I'm sure, is that people are writing what they think sells - and agents and publishing houses are probably picking up specific stories for the same reason. It's like Disney doing endless remakes of stories that were originally something creative and inspiring.

But you can tell when you're reading something that's sort of just...cobbled together from all the other books that person has encountered from within the same exact genre. They're assembling bits of everyone else's voices instead of developing their own. It might be readable, but it's not terribly memorable.

In one of my college lit classes, our final exam was to read excerpts from various literary works and write a short essay response identifying the authors and explaining our reasons. It wasn't a test to check whether we'd read and memorized everything by these authors - it was to see how closely we'd been paying attention to the ones we had read and discussed in class.

For instance, the Jack London excerpt wasn't from White Fang or The Call of the Wild - it was a paragraph from a short story we hadn't read, where you could pick up on setting, style, themes, tone, etc to say hey...I think this was probably written by him.

I still remember that exam because it was a pretty cool exercise that showed how distinct an author's voice can be, even for ones that carry over into different genres. (Jack London is a little bit of a cheat if you go "oh it's set in Alaska.") It's like hearing a song you've never listened to before and recognizing their voice, or identifying a painting without having to look at the signature.

And yes, you can see this in fanfiction, too: I used to enjoy trying to identify authors in fandom exchange festivals, before the anon switch flipped off and they were revealed. Sometimes I was wrong. Sometimes I got it right, and it was so fun!

My favorite fic authors do often have a distinct tone and style that they carry through their writing, even while drawing from canonical sources and keeping it "in character." Just like the paintings from two artists sitting next to each other in front of a bowl of fruit will depict the "same" subject on the canvas, but with their point of view and personality in the brushstrokes.

Which is all just to say that I agree, so strongly, with the need to not only read if you're going to write...but to read widely and across genres. Across time periods and languages, too: I very much recommend reading stories from other cultures and other countries, to develop a wider view of the world.

If you only read modern YA fantasy written by US-based authors, your stories are...going to sound a lot like theirs, even if you don't intend them to.

If you read a ton of fic, you'll probably learn how to write something that aligns well with what everyone seems to like and gravitate towards in fandom. Maybe that's the goal. But even if you don't have the drive or the energy to write or try to publish original works, all the advice from earlier in this thread will help you in fandom.

If you want to write a story that isn't an entirely unique concept but IS your unique voice, you have to develop that voice through wider experience.

I've seen fanfic authors brag about how they never read at all, fic or otherwise...and quite frankly, it shows. You can only improve through practice, and some of that practice includes studying and learning from others, which can really be as simple as just sitting down with a cup of tea and a stack of books.

They don't have to be "literary." They don't need glowing 5 star reviews. They should just be what books are meant to be: a way for you to dive into a whole bunch of different worlds and time periods and discover the huge range of creativity that's out there for you to enjoy.

fascinating that when you tell people "you have to learn the rules to break them" when talking about drawing/painting etc everyone nods and agrees but the second you say "you have to read books if you want to write better" there's a horde of contrarians begging to be the wrongest people ever all of a sudden

[lastofdanny]

crossfire

pairing: manny alvarez x f!reader, enemies to lovers

summary: you're from jackson. he's a part of the wlf. everything about it was wrong, but an undeniable attraction keeps pulling both of you into a territory far more dangerous than everything you'd ever faced.

a/n: first of all tysm for all the love for under your skin pt 1 and 2 ♡ and YES another enemies to lovers with manny because i'm obsessed. of course none of those things from tlou happen in this scenario so let's just stick with this cutie version of manny. this is a one shot so its kinda long and english is not my first language !! hope u all enjoy it ♡

The first time you met Manny Alvarez, he had a gun pointed at your head. 

And he was smiling.

Time seemed to slow as his finger rested on the trigger, but instead of pulling it, he paused.

His dark eyes locked onto yours as if he could see straight through you, his tan skin under the dim light, contrasting with the wild curls that fell over his forehead. For a moment, he didn’t speak, just watched you, as if savoring the tension.

“You’re way too pretty for someone who’s about to die,” he murmured, voice rich with mock sympathy. “What a shame.”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your heart raced, and the rush of heat that had nothing to do with fear.

With a soft chuckle, he lowered the gun, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did.

“Lucky for you, I’m not quite done with you yet,” he said, his grin widening. 

Then, with a wink, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, heart racing, caught somewhere between relief and something far more dangerous.

─────────────────────────

The second time, there was no hesitation.

You spotted him across the street as the WLF and Jackson’s forces clashed. The dust and smoke made the air hard to breathe, but your focus was on one thing: him, his dark curls damp with sweat, rifle slung, dark eyes scanning the chaos. 

In one fluid motion, you darted forward, knife slicing his forehead as he quickly jerked back, blood starting to rush down all over his face. 

“Guess letting you live wasn’t such a great idea,” he teased, swiping the blood away, his eyes still sparkling. “Now you’ve gone and left your mark on me.”

The smirk was back within seconds.

"Not bad, mi reina," he called out, his voice carrying through the chaos, full of mocking admiration. “But you’re gonna need more than that to take me down.”

─────────────────────────

Months later, you’d been guarding the outskirts of Jackson, keeping an eye out for anyone trying to creep through when you saw Manny behind an old rusted car.

“Well, well,” he said, a slow, teasing smile curling at the corners of his lips. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. Been thinking a lot about you lately.” 

“Sure you want to finish that sentence?”

“It’s hard not to, you know” he reached up, fingers lightly brushing over the scar you’d left on his face, his touch lingering as if he was savoring the memory. “Guess I’ll always have a piece of you with me now.”

You couldn’t help but notice how the scar had settled into his skin. You hate to admit it kind of made him look even more attractive — more tempting, even.

You tightened your grip on your rifle, aiming at him.

“You’re trespassing."

Manny ignored your words as he took a step closer, eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe you should let me in. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” 

He was standing closer before you could even respond. “It’s such a shame we’re on opposite sides. We could have a lot of fun together, don’t you think?”

“You’re not as clever as you think, Alvarez,” you said, and in one fluid motion, you fired a shot just past his ear, the crack of the bullet cutting through the tense air.  The bullet embedded into the wall behind him, sending a clear message. “Now get back. I won’t warn you again.”

Manny took another step back, his eyes gleaming with mischief, clearly enjoying the game. “I’m not the enemy you think I am, you know. But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just become one.” 

You narrowed your eyes, tightening your grip on the rifle. “Keep dreaming.”

“Can’t tell if that’s a threat or if you’re trying to seduce me” he teased. “Either way, it’s definitely working.”

His lips curled into a grin again, and without another word, he winked and disappeared into the shadows.

─────────────────────────

From that moment forward, the encounters became more frequent. No matter where you were, no matter what your mission was, Manny found a way to show up, always with that smirk and those irritatingly charming words. And day after day, the attraction between you both grew. 

A while later, his figure emerged from behind a crumbling wall and his eyes locked onto yours almost immediately. He was alone, no WLF backup, and he simply stood there, eyes studying you like a puzzle he was trying to solve.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than annoy me?” You couldn’t hide the frustration in your voice, though part of you knew, deep down, it wasn’t really what was getting to you.

Manny’s lips quivered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I’m just trying to get your attention.”

“You’ve got it. Now leave.”

There was no hiding it now. The tension between you two had grown to something impossible to ignore — you weren’t sure if it was the way he always flirted with you, or how his presence seemed to make your skin tingle, but you knew it was becoming harder to pretend you didn’t feel it.

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be the enemy, you’re kind of hard to resist.”  Manny said, taking another slow step toward you.

You pointed your gun at him. “Easy,” he said, grinning. “Just want to talk.”

“You sure? Might be your last conversation.”

He should’ve been pissed. Should have raised his own weapon. But he only laughed instead.

“You ever relax?”

“You ever shut up?”

“I could. If you kissed me.”

────────────────────────

You knew it was wrong — stupid, even — to let him take up space in your mind. But every time Manny came across with that cocky grin and some ridiculous flirtation, you cracked a little more.

You’d found yourself thinking about him way too much — remembering the moments when his dark eyes sparkled with mischief, the way he moved just a little too close, as if he already knew exactly what his presence did to you. 

He was the enemy, and yet your patrols started drifting closer to the places you knew he’d be. You told yourself that keeping eyes on him was necessary, but the truth sat heavier each day: you weren't just looking for him anymore — you were hoping to see him, and started to feel disappointed when you didn’t.

You knew he was trouble, dangerous even, and you knew it was wrong to want him, to crave his attention. But every time you replayed the sound of his voice, low and teasing, or remembered the way his gaze lingered just long enough to leave you breathless, something twisted inside you.

You weren’t looking for him the next time you met, but still found him on a construction site, blood crusted at his temple, dragging a broken rifle and muttering in Spanish. You could’ve left him — should have left him — but something pulled you forward.

Again.

“You look like shit,” you said, stepping into the open, gun aimed at him.

He turned toward your voice, too slow, too tired. And then he grinned.

“Well, well” Manny leaned like he had all the time in the world. “Didn’t think you’d miss me that much to come all the way here."

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t draw your gun. Not yet. “Why are you out here alone?”

He stepped forward, hands half-raised in a mock surrender.

“Scavenging. Or maybe just hoping I’d run into you.”

You didn't answer, and he stared at your gun.

“You gonna finish the job this time, cariño, or just keep admiring the view?”

“You’re lucky I haven’t ended this yet.”

“Well, you never do” he says, smiling wider. “What does that say?”

“That I’m losing my goddamn mind.”

“Or maybe,” he says, taking a slow step toward you, “You’re starting to see what I’ve seen this whole time.”

You didn’t answer. Because part of you already knew. You just didn’t want to face it.

─────────────────────────

Manny stepped out of the shadows again weeks later, calm and cocky as ever, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. His gun rested loosely in his hand, now more like an accessory than a threat. His eyes — dark, sharp, and far too amused — landed on you with precision.

You caught the movement and your rifle was up in an instant, aimed dead at his chest.

“Are you following me now, Alvarez?” you snapped, stepping into the open with your finger brushing the trigger. 

He stopped, hands out to his sides in a lazy show of innocence, the familiar smirk already in his face. “Well, you do make it hard to stay away.”

“Don’t you think it’s funny that I had plenty of chances to kill you, and never did?” He took a slow step closer, gaze never leaving yours. 

“I had the same chances,” you said. “You’re not special.”

Manny laughed, closing the distance between them with a few easy steps. 

“But see, I know exactly why I haven’t pulled the trigger.” He stopped just a breath away, his eyes locked onto yours, the smirk fading into something quieter — something more dangerous. “What’s your excuse? What’s stopping you, cariño?”

You didn’t answer — you couldn’t, not when he was looking at you like he already knew everything.

He leaned in slowly until his lips hovered just a breath away from yours. His hand brushed lightly against your arm, barely there. Then he paused, lips twitching into a crooked smile.

“That’s what I thought” he whispered.

You stepped back, trying to maintain the distance between you. 

But Manny was quick. In one fluid motion, he was right back in front of you, his hand brushing against your arm, sending a shock of warmth through your body. 

“I know you want it,” he said softly, so close now that it made you dizzy. “It’d be easier if you just admitted it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You knew exactly what he meant, but still couldn’t afford to acknowledge it. 

You were from Jackson. He was from the WLF. Everything about you two was wrong — everything about it was dangerous.

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

“You’re a terrible liar,” he whispered, his breath warm against your face. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me?”

Your pulse quickened as his lips hovered near yours, his words sending a wave of heat through you. The world around you seemed to disappear, and the WLF, Jackson, the fight — it all faded into the background.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

You didn’t.

The kiss was fierce, desperate, like both of you had been waiting for it far too long. Manny’s hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as your body reacted before your mind could catch up.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you blinked, trying to clear your mind. What had you just done?

─────────────────────────

You didn’t see Manny for a while after that kiss, as you started avoiding the routes he used to show up and skipping outposts you knew he might be near.

He was WLF, after all — the enemy — and no matter how much that kiss haunted you, getting close again felt like crossing a line you couldn’t afford. 

Then you started finding the notes.

A bottle by the barn: “Miss me yet?” 

A note under a bike tire: “Bet you can’t stop thinking about it.”

And another one between the gate you used to patrol: “Can’t keep running forever, cariño."

Each one, signed only with an M, sent your heart into a familiar spin.

You were doing your best to brush them off, but then you found one that was impossible to ignore — a torn piece of a map with a red “X” and scribbled in blocky handwriting:

“Midnight. I’ll be waiting. M”

Still, curiosity — and something else you weren’t ready to name — got the better of you.

The place was far from the patrol routes — an isolated cabin you’d only ever hear whispers about. It was a risky spot, but you trusted him. Mostly. 

He was already there when you arrived, leaning casually against the weathered porch when he saw you.

“Well, well,” Manny drawled, hopping down. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

“You’ve been annoying me with those stupid messages for days. When are you going to stop?” you asked, crossing your arms. 

“Ouch. Didn’t like my love letters?”

“That’s what you call stalking now?”

“I prefer the term dedicated admirer.”

“What do you want, Manny?”

“Just wanted to see you.” Manny smirked, stepping closer. “But I wasn’t sure you’d actually come, since you’ve been avoiding me lately and well, you actually do have a lot of reasons to stay away from me.”

“So do you.”

The truth was you couldn’t keep ignoring whatever it was that was happening between you, couldn’t pretend that it didn’t stir something in you every time he was near.

"You’re right," he said quietly, his voice taking on a seriousness you hadn’t heard before. “We both have reasons to stay away. But we can’t. And we don’t have to.”

“Don’t start, Manny. You know this can’t happen again.”

He stepped closer. “Why not? I mean, you sneaked out in the middle of the night just to see me.” He paused, then added, voice low, teasing, “That’s something, right?”

You shoved him — lightly — but didn’t step back when he caught you again.

“And you know what else I’ve figured out?” he asked, leaning in. “Every time I’m around, you act like it’s an accident. Like it just happens that we cross paths. But it’s not, is it?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he raised an eyebrow and kept going.

“You try not to. But you do.” He stepped to the side, just enough to catch your gaze again. “You’re looking for me, cariño. Just like I’m always looking for you.”

You kept trying to think of an answer, a pushback — anything — but nothing came.

Manny smiled again, softer this time. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” you muttered.

“But you are. And you wouldn’t if you didn’t want it as much as I do.”

That night, every movement between you was slower. Hungrier. There was no rush, just the quiet understanding that this was the only place either of you could be honest.

Out here, hidden from the world, the war, and the walls you each had to keep up — he could touch you like you weren't enemies, and you could let him. You didn't have to pretend anymore.

─────────────────────────

It kept happening after that.

You would sneak away at night, meeting Manny in the quietest corners of Jackson’s outskirts, in abandoned places you knew no one would look at.

One day it was behind an old greenhouse, where vines had overtaken garden rows.

“Told you this place was romantic” Manny said, holding up a wilted flower with a mock charm.

You snorted. “Trying to impress me, Alvarez?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

“Not really.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re already in love with me.”

─────────────────────────

Then near the river, where an old campfire pit sat unused. You found Manny drawing something in the dirt with a stick when he heard you approach.

“Planning something?” you asked.

“Mapping escape routes,” he teased. “In case you finally admit you want to run away with me.”

You snorted. “I’d get sick of you before we made it three miles.”

Manny’s smirk only deepened, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Three miles?” he challenged, taking a slow step toward you. “You know I can keep you entertained for way longer than that.”

─────────────────────────

Every time it became harder, riskier. The fear of getting caught got you both, but neither of you could stop. It was dangerous, reckless, but every touch, every glance, pulled you both deeper in. 

The risk was a part of the excitement at first — sneaking out at night, staying quiet, but as the days passed, the weight and meaning kept growing heavier, and soon you both knew it wasn’t just about that anymore.

It was the way Manny would ask you to stay a little longer, the way the time with him never seemed to be enough, and how you started wishing everything was different — that the rules that kept you apart didn't exist.

You almost didn't make it on a rainy night, but manage to find him waiting beneath the half-collapsed roof of an old tower.

“You’re very late. I was starting to get worried." he said, his tone light but with an underlying edge of frustration. 

“Were you scared I wouldn’t come?” you shot back, but the teasing smile on your lips betrayed you.

“Nah. I knew you’d show.” he murmured, lips touching your neck. “Can’t stay away from me.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you kissed him as if the rest of the world didn’t matter.

When it was over, you lay side by side, fingers entwined, staring up at the sky through the broken roof.

“I did get scared you wouldn’t come,” Manny said, barely above a whisper. His hand tightened around you, but his eyes refused to meet yours.

“Why?”

He hesitated, still looking away, as if searching for the right words. “I don’t know. Thought maybe wouldn't want to risk being around me anymore. Keep doing this for real."

You leaned in, your hand gently cupping his cheek, making him finally look at you. “I’m all in, Manny. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“What if you change your mind?”

"I won't," you said firmly, your eyes locked with his. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

His lips pulled into a faint, almost relieved smile. “Yeah?” He leaned closer, the vulnerability in his eyes slowly giving way to something deeper. “Good. Because I don’t think I can walk away from this.”

You smiled back, kissing him. “Neither can I.”

The next time you saw him, the question you both had been avoiding finally slipped from your lips.

“You ever think about what happens if someone finds out?” you asked as your fingers touched the scar along his face, the same one you gave him the first time you met, which now seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Every time I see you,” he said, lips brushing your temple. “But it’s always worth it.”

It was dangerous. Reckless. But in the darkness, when it was just the two of you, you didn’t care. All you wanted was him. And he felt the same.

The war might never end, but maybe, just maybe, you and Manny had found something that was worth fighting for, too.

[lesbworth]

a probably incomplete list and rating of all the britcoms i have watched and how gay they are

somehow, during my short life, i have managed to watch an obscene amount of britcom, mostly through family osmosis. this probably explains a lot about who i am today. i have recently been thinking about just how many of these things have passed through my eyeballs over the years and also just how many of them range from kind of to very to unbelievably gay. so here is a list rating how gay they all are out of 10 because i always love a list!

notes:

many of these i watched at a tender age so i remember kind of fuck all and i have not rewatched any for the purposes of this. so be aware that several of these reviews are based on hazy recollections of vibes

yes some of the ones with canon queer characters are going to have lower ratings than some of the ones without that's simply how the cookie crumbles. sometimes a show is just packed to the absolute brim with pure trademark typically english inexplicable repressed homoeroticism and it makes it feel gayer than one where a character came out

let's say 5/10 is what i consider the "average" level of britcom homoeroticism but other than that there's no system to the ratings just vibes fr

-

1960s

dad's army

this is probably the one i started watching at the youngest age, but i watched so damn much of it. i was too young to be looking out for this kind of thing but considering it fits the classic britcom format of revolving around the strong bonds between a cast that fails to pass the bechdel test i'm gonna make an educated guess at 3/10. there's probably old man yaoi in there somewhere. (and if i had to pick the main ship it would clearly be mainwaring/wilson)

1970s

all creatures great and small

i mean. OBJECTIVELY. it is not gay. it's literally based on real people who as far as we know were not in the least gay. but THERE'S JUST A WEIRD VIBE. AM I CRAZY? TELL ME I'M NOT CRAZY 5/10 (it's probably partly a side effect of watching this as a babygay since i would basically headcanon the whole main cast of anything i watched as bisexual. good times. i also had tristan farnon gender envy)

fawlty towers

really heterosexual vibe i will not lie. at least 60% propped up by classic i hate my wife humour. if there's anything queer in there it did not impress itself upon me 0/10 at least it inspired vicious

the good life

ostensibly this is about two married couples but it emits such an oddly bisexual energy??? like they're a polycule. to me. which is already basically canon since they have the whole wifeswap dynamic but i mean tom and jerry (yes really) are giving exes and margo and barbara have probably snogged a couple of times. TO ME. 6/10

only when i laugh

on balance i think it's probably at least a bit homoerotic considering the bechdel test metric again but despite having decently clear memories of it i can't think of anything particularly. i'll give it a 4/10 and as a raffles fan christopher strauli being there adds a point LMAO

porridge

despite being set in a men's prison i don't think it gets a very high score... let's go 4/10 because i'm sure there's enough there to go off of. pretty sure there were also many jokes about gay sex as can be expected. also inspired red dwarf

rising damp

going to be so for real the main thing i remember is the racism. 1/10? there are enough male characters that there might have been something idk

to the manor born

i mean it's a straight romance but it's not toooo hetero. audrey and marjory are kind of schoolgirl exes yuri #if you think about it. in fact i remember a scene where they're gushing about how they both had a crush on one of their schoolmistresses? 5.5/10?

whatever happened to the likely lads?

i THINK i've watched episodes of this. i know my parents have the box set. but i cannot for the life of me recall anything from it. just based on the premise though, i'll give it a strong 5/10

1980s

'allo 'allo!

girl... i forgor. i don't think so? i mean let's give it 3/10 for being set in france. also i have been reminded that there's an implied gay nazi, diversity win

blackadder (all series)

absolutely. "i cannot conceive", etc and so on. the crossdressing shenanigans. fry & laurie are there. just has a fruitiness about it generally. 7/10

only fools and horses

eeehh. all-male main cast but they're a family which hinders its ability to serve homo. generally giving very straight energy. 1/10 in case i forgot something

red dwarf

the fucking show that led me to make this ranking in the first place. grant naylor you will be dealt with. 10/10

a very peculiar practice

i didn't watch much of this and it was a long time ago but distinctly remember getting some kind of A Vibe. and looking it up apparently one of the main characters is canonically bi?? damn 7/10

yes, minister (and yes, prime minister)

look. LOOK. there's just something about it. it's the father of the thick of it which is british succession to me. also sir humphrey is homosexual there is literally no other way to read him nigel hawthorne told me himself actually. go and watch the homoerotic wispa ad 7/10

you rang, m'lord?

i actually haven't watched any full episodes of this but i must give it a 7/10 for the inclusion of CISSY the stylish 1920s aristocratic butch communist who could have walked right out of le monocle. love it

1990s

drop the dead donkey

this was such a deep cut i actually forgot it existed until making this list. i know i watched quite a lot of it to be honest but i can't remember shit other than that i liked one of the women's hair. i think it was pretty straight? NEVERMIND THERE'S A LESBIAN IN IT HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT A WHOLE LESBIAN 6/10

father ted

to be honest i don't think this comes from quite the same place homoeroticism-wise as most of the others on this list given that it's irish and not english (not to disparage oscar wilde of course!). catholic yaoi...? i really don't think so 2/10 for the catholicism also get fucked graham linehan

jeeves and wooster

let's be serious now. 9/10 i <3 gay people. i was raised on the books which also probably explains a lot about me... and naturally i have also always gotten severe gender envy from bertie

mr. bean

is mr. bean really considered britcom. can i leave him out. i'm going to leave him out

one foot in the grave

now i am certain i have watched this because i remember the theme song and vaguely the title sequence but i also forgot about its existence until this list. honestly i think it was just giving constant i hate my wifeism even the imprint where a memory once was of it that i have feels tiring 0/10

the royle family

painfully straight but in the way your irl straight friends are. if that makes sense. 1/10

2000s

black books

maybe i watched this at an overly impressionable age but like... it's giving. it's got the odd couple the domesticity the found family if you will. the m/f platonic relationships. also tamsin greig in that haircut? i remember always being so unconvinced that fran was straight that woman looks sooo lesbian 8/10 and FUCK graham linehan

the it crowd

very classic britcomism (you're my wife roy! you're my wife!!!) and i mean the guys snog on screen that is very much a thing that happened. also i just don't really think richard ayoade can totally play straight despite being a straight man. also the main three kind of have rancid bisexual polycule potential. also there's a goth. also i would watch gay! a gay musical. 7/10 AND FUCK GRAHAM LINEHAN!!!!!!

peep show

classic britcom homoerotic odd couple except one of them is actually bisexual and played by a bisexual actor. and the other is "possibly bi but basically uncurious". and they ALSO snog on screen. i haven't watched much of this to my shame but I Know What It Is 8/10

the thick of it

BRITISH SUCCESSION. i swear to god you would all be foaming at the mouth about this if it came out at a time and context to be big on tumblr. malcolm tucker god's worst bisexual 7.5/10 by the way that's an incredibly homophobic headline you massive poof!

2010s

ghosts

8.5/10 right off the bat brother firstly it's a six idiots show which already guarantees a high score but also it's genuinely very sweet with regards to canon queerness and the characters are flamboyant and lovable in a way guaranteed to attract the kind of queer fandom it has today. captain my beloved

upstart crow

i mean of course it's about shakespeare and it doesn't shy away from implying he's queer but the general vibe is not suuuper fruity. i'll say 6.5/10

vicious

this is what i'm TALKING ABOUTTT i'm so glad this show exists in the world. genuinely what would we even do if there WASN'T a show about ian mckellen and derek jacobi being a gay couple of 50 years who hate each other 11/10

yonderland

i feel like this makes ghosts too low but i wanted to put yonderland a bit higher for the sheer amount of environmental queerness knocking about in there and also the general campiness of it all. six idiots moment. 9/10 the elders are incredible ho-tan you will always be famous queen

2020s

staged

yeah. 9/10

-

thank you for reading 🙏 honestly i basically just made this for the appeal of making A List but absolutely feel free to argue with me about the ratings, suggest your own fav britcoms not listed here, et cetera

(also have fun spotting the same fucking people in half of them LMAO. i fear british tv is never beating the 3 actors allegations)

[branwinged]

do you have any unpopular opinions regarding Arya

what's your opinion on the death penalty type ask. well i think arya prettycourse is insane (she's literally 10? but also im about to type a block of text about it so. sorry ✋) both the "she's ugly fr" takes and the people citing book quotes where someone calls her pretty are missing the point. the books are not interested in engaging with 'objective' beauty (madness wrt dany and the targs is another concept that is not objective. it's a social construct) because the books understand gender is socially constructed so that implies gendered beauty standards are also socially constructed.

the ideal of beauty in westeros is based on a very specific brand of patriarchal femininity. it's obviously race based, like, almost everyone has something vile to say about elia and that's because of in-universe racism against the dornish. beauty is also class based because only aristocratic women have access to expensive fabrics and lace etc and to possess that kind of socially desirable figure one has to have a certain amount of wealth (i.e. access to food) to be precluded from engaging in physical labour. i don't think the books are interested in that class based aspect because all our pov characters are aristocrats, but you do see the other bits in play with a lot of characters. like, cersei and the prophecy about being surpassed by a younger and more beautiful girl. she spends a lot of time worrying about which beautiful girl maggy the frog was prophesying here, but i'm sure (at least in a metatextual sense, because this is a self fulfilling prophecy) "younger and more beautiful" is also meant as a simple truth, that after a certain age she will no longer be viewed as a sexual commodity, and you see this happen in the text in the way jaime is still fawned over at his age but cersei is entering 'socially deemed as old hag' territory. brienne (once) very much desires to be a lady but because she doesn't fit that ideal of patriarchal femininity (the specific way she is made out to be ugly are her height, her girth, that she's flat chested and muscular) she is dehumanised and labeled an outcast. then on the other end we've got daenerys who is considered the most beautiful woman in the world because she's being exoticised for her valyrian heritage, it's not the authorial voice of grrm pronouncing her as the winner of some fuckass planetos beauty pageant okay!! and crucially, these are all teenagers so the ideal of beauty here is also inseparable from the normative sexualisation of young girls who're also simultaneously expected to perform innocence and purity.

so with that context, arya is considered ugly because she's gender nonconforming. arya's anxiety and feelings of inadequacy over not being pretty (like her mother, like her sister) are not separate from her anxiety about not being able to meet the standards of patriarchal femininity.

Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would just wash and brush her hair and take more care with her dress, the way her sister did.

what cat means here, is that she will be pretty ONCE she's domesticated into being a proper lady. and that one time gendry calls arya pretty it's right after lady smallwood forces her into conventionally feminine attire (Lady Smallwood fussed at the bodice of the gown. “Now you look a proper young lady.” // gendry: "You look different now. Like a proper little girl.") i don't find these instances of her being called pretty particularly empowering because she doesn't like wearing gowns and dresses, she shouldn't be forced to perform 'proper' gender roles in exchange for some assurance regarding her worth as a girl. note that catelyn, lady smallwood, and gendry are not being malicious but they've all grown up with and internalised westeros's sexist values, catelyn in particular is approaching it as a problem of who's going to marry (i.e. sexually desire) arya if she doesn't behave like a well bred lady.

Lady Smallwood gave her breeches, belt, and tunic to wear, and a brown doeskin jerkin dotted with iron studs. “They were my son’s things,” she said. “He died when he was seven.” “I’m sorry, my lady.” Arya suddenly felt bad for her, and ashamed. “I’m sorry I tore the acorn dress too. It was pretty.” “Yes, child. And so are you. Be brave.”

i think this is the most valuable/touching comment on arya's appearance because lady smallwood here is finally not trying to put her in some box of expectations, she's simply recognising her as a child trying to survive and return to her family, worthy of kindness, worthy of love. and that's the main theme of her story, she just wants to exist outside those rigid codes of social conduct for women ("Can I be a king’s councillor and build castles and become the High Septon?") but because she won't quietly let her desires and sense of self be subsumed by westeros's patriarchal femininity (what's happening to sansa in affc), what she's ultimately presented with is complete annihilation of the self. the faceless men tell her, "you will be no one's daughter, no one's wife, no one's mother" - the wording here feels significant because then this path is not an out from that oppressive structure. it's saying: since you refuse to conform, you can't exist within society. you won't be considered a person at all, your body will be a tool to serve the faceless men's desires.

[kissandtellus]

Flight Plan

Synopsis: You visited Caleb in the Hangar and uncover a bittersweet secret.

Warnings: Barely any mention of fun time, Fluff, Painful memories/angst, happy ending.

Authors note: The new Spring card has me acting up. I think this is my first angsty/cute story.

Y/n was a caring partner. She found her way walking through the air fleet base. Many officers knew who she was.

Colonel Caleb’s girlfriend.

Y/n sighed when she saw her boyfriend rolled up under a fighter jet, no doubt tinkering with the massive machine.

Noticing her presence, he slid out from under the jet, wiping grease from his hands onto a rag. His trademark smirk appeared as he stood up. "Well look who decided to grace the hangar..."He immediately closed the distance between you, pulling her into a casual hug so he didn’t smear grease on her pretty jacket. “Missed you, sweetheart."

He pressed a kiss to your temple before releasing you, his gaze lingering on her face. "What are you doing here, huh? Thought you'd be busy fighting Wanderers."He teased. Caleb bent back under the jet, his voice muffled.

Y/n pouted and sat the lunch she had brought on his work table. “Caleb, you were supposed to come home for lunch.”

He slid back out from under the jet, a guilty smile on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He picked up the lunch she brought, opening it to reveal a sandwich and some chips. "You know I get lost in this stuff." He gestured to the jet with a greasy hand.

Y/n gave a small grin. “I guess I can forgive you. Besides, you look good with some grease on you.” She teases, wiping some grease from his cheek.

He chuckled, leaning into her touch. "You always did have a weird thing for greasy mechanics." He teased back, wrapping an arm around her waist as he sat beside her on the small stool beside his worktable. "You really came all the way here to feed me?"

He unwrapped the sandwich and took a big bite, groaning dramatically. "Mmm, you're a goddess, you know that?" He swallowed and continued, "I swear, your cooking is the only thing that gets me through these long days."

Y/n smiles and looks around the Hagar that has cleared out now, many soldiers going how to their families.

But here their Colonel was, slaving away at a fighter jet.

“So tell me about the ‘other woman’ you have here.” Odette teases, patting the aircraft.

He laughed, finishing his sandwich before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Aw, jealous now?" He teased, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "This beauty right here is my only girl." He patted the jet affectionately. "She's high maintenance though, always demanding my attention."

He stood up, grabbing a wrench to demonstrate his point. "She breaks down, I fix her. She needs a wash, I scrub her down. She needs fuel, I fill her up." He grinned mischievously, "You see why she's my favorite, huh?"

Y/n crosses her arms over her chest. “Did you give her a name? What makes her better than me?” Y/n gives a fake pout.

He laughed heartily, stepping closer to you. "Of course I gave her a name, sweetheart. She's 'Vixen'." He leaned against the jet, crossing his arms over his chest to mimic your posture. "And as for what makes her better than you..."

He paused, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, for starters, Vixen never complains when I spend hours working on her. She doesn't get jealous when I'm away on missions. And she sure as hell doesn't ask me to choose between her and my girl."

“Well then, I guess Vixen here can suck you off too…” Y/n mumbles under her breath.

He chuckled, pushing off the jet to step closer to you. "You think so? You think Vixen could make me forget about you entirely?" He challenged, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he suppressed a laugh. "You think Vixen could keep me warm at night?"

Y/n pouts and looks at the rolling mechanism Caleb had been using to look under the jet. “I always see these in movies. Does it actually help?”

He glanced over at the rolling mechanism, nodding. "Yeah, it helps a lot. I can crawl under the jet and inspect the undercarriage, check the brakes, alignment, all that good stuff." He bent down and grabbed the handle, starting to roll it out. "Want to see something cool?"

Before she could respond, he pushed the rolling platform under the jet and climbed onto it, lying down on his back. He then began to pull himself underneath the massive machine, disappearing from view. His muffled voice echoed out from beneath the jet, "Come here for a sec..."

His voice was slightly muffled as he called out to her from under the jet. "I wanna show you something, but you gotta get down here." He paused, shifting around underneath the heavy aircraft. "Just lie on your back next to the platform and look up. You'll see what I mean."

Y/n wrinkles her nose at the grease and dirt, but lays next Caleb on the tray.

He chuckled softly, his voice echoing slightly from under the jet. "See, this is why I love working on her. It's like a whole other world down here." He shifted a bit to make more room for you. "Look up at the belly of the jet. See those panels?"

"Those panels cover the landing gear and some of the hydraulic systems. But if you look closely, you can see where they've been patched up before. Old battle damage." He paused, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "This jet has seen some shit, Y/n."

Y/n takes a sharp breath. “And so have you. Vixen is your jet, it means she’s seen just as much wounds as you have.”

He nodded slightly, the metallic echo of the jet filling the brief silence. "Yeah... that's exactly right." His voice grew quieter, more personal. "Every scratch on her is like a memory of something I've been through. Every repair I've done is me saying 'I survived that round'."

He reached out from under the jet, his hand brushing against your arm as he pointed up at a specific panel. "See that one there? That's from my first real dogfight. I got shot up pretty bad, but Vixen brought me home."

Caleb moves his finger to a deep gash. “…and that one over there," he continued, shifting to point at another panel, "that's from a mission gone wrong in Deepspace. We got ambushed, but I managed to land us safely." He fell silent for a moment, his hand still resting on your arm.

Y/n turns her head and looks at Caleb, reaching out to stroke his cheek. He looked more natural like this, not in his stuff Spacefleet uniform. In just a dirty white tanktop and jeans. “I’m glad Vixen brings you back to me.”

He looked at you, his eyes softening as your hand made contact with his cheek. In this moment, he almost seemed like a different person - less tough, more vulnerable. "She brings me back to you... and to myself," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the jet.

Caleb closed his eyes briefly as your fingers traced his cheekbone, a small smile tugging at his lips. Without thinking, he turned his head slightly to press a gentle kiss to her palm. It was an instinctive gesture, one born out of the comfort and familiarity of Y/n’s touch in this familiar environment.

“Most people, they see this jet and see just a machine." He spoke softly, his eyes still closed as her fingers traced patterns on his cheek. "But you see it for what it really is - a piece of me. A piece I almost lost more than once."

Y/n smiles and looks back up at the bottom of the jet. “I guess I can share you with her. Just for a little while.”

His smile widened at your words, and he opened his eyes to look at her. "She's a jealous mistress, you know. Always demanding my attention." He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on your face. "But she knows when to share."

Caleb rolls the two of them back out from under the jet. Clicking some buttons on the control panel, the glass lid on top of the fighter jet pops open.

"Come up here a minute," he said softly, his voice carrying a slight teasing lilt as he climbed out. He dusted off his hands on his jeans, then extended one to help her up. "Vixen doesn't get jealous of everything," he added, a playful smirk crossing his face.

Y/n found herself pulled up into the cockpit, sitting in the pilot's seat as Caleb climbed up, leaning over the side. He clicked a few more buttons, and the cockpit lit up with the familiar hum of the jet's systems coming online. "She likes you sitting here.”

Y/n smiles, but then a little photo catches her eye. It’s one she forget existed. A Polaroid of her in nothing but a lingerie set Caleb had her wear for his birthday. She’s bent over, splayed out as she looks but at the camera with a cockdrunk grin. “Caleb! Why do you have this here?!”

He chuckled mischievously, leaning over to look at the Polaroid she’d found tucked away in the control panel. "Because it's my favorite picture of you," he said unapologetically, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he remembered that birthday.

“You were so drunk from my cock that night you didn't even remember posing for it," he reminisced, his thumb brushing over the image. "God, you looked... edible." He glanced at you, his expression turning playful. "Want me to tell you what I did with this picture after?"

"I made it my phone wallpaper," he confessed, his grin widening mischievously. "And my laptop background. And I might have printed a few copies to keep in my wallet and my helmet too..." He laughed, grabbing his flight helmet and flipped it over to show the photo printed off and tucked in the foam.

Y/n stutters and peels the photo away from the control panel. Behind it, a sweet note was written on the back.

"For when you’re alone at night and can't sleep," the note read in her messy, familiar handwriting. "To remind you there's something soft and sexy waiting for you at home. - Y/n." He watched her expression closely, knowing there were more hidden notes like this scattered around the jet.

"You left love notes everywhere," he said softly, reaching out to turn the photo over in your hands. "In the bathroom, in the bedroom, under the seats... even in the glove compartment." He paused, his voice gentle. "I think my favorite was the one in my underwear drawer."

Y/n softly gasps. “You keep all of them…?” Her eyes drift around the cock pit. Multiple little crinkled notes she had written for him at home decorated the area.

A reminder for Caleb.

To always come back to her.

He nodded, his expression turning serious. "Every single one," he confirmed, his voice steady. "You have no idea how much they meant to me, especially when we were apart for so long. They were the only thing keeping me sane." He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently.

She smiles at Caleb, trying to fight back the tears that spring to her eyes at all the times she could’ve lost Caleb again. “Vixen will always bring you back to me, right?”

"Mhmm," he hummed, pulling her hand up to kiss your knuckles softly. "She knows her place. She's my baby, my girl. But you..." He paused, his eyes finding Y/n’s. "You're my future wife. She knows when she needs to bring me back home to you."

[bahngarang]

chapter 9.0 ☆ imposter syndrome

ss: 18

wc: 862

cw: food mentions, mentions of physical fighting

a/n: I lost two years of my life trying to edit that photo if it looks bad don't tell me (also the initials l . y are l/n y/n if you're confused)

"okay, okay, hear me out," minji paused, chewing a heroically sized mouthful of pizza, holding her finger up as if to hold her place in the conversation.

it went on for just long enough to be awkward, and yn took a sip of their soda – as if they weren't already stewing in a pool of their own embarrassment at this whole situation. and it was embarrassing, to say the least. how long would it have taken them to get to this point if not for some... some bitch trying to steal their soulmates? honestly, yn thought they would have the opposite reaction to this sort of thing. the other yn – she was pretty, able-bodied from what they could tell, and she seemed remarkably put together. a far cry from their own life. she seemed to be everything yn wanted for their soulmates.

well, except for the fact that she was almost undoubtedly a sasaeng. stray kids' management had gone to great lengths not to show their soul marks, but there had been a few slip-ups over the years, and despite their best efforts, it had come out that the group were soulmates – and that there was one more person included. that came with a lot of failed attempts of stalkers trying their best to convince they boys that they were their soulmate. up until now, it had always been fairly mediocre attempts, and/or easy to see through. it was different this time, almost indistinguishable from yn's own (before the accident).

but apart from that, theoretically, she was perfect for them. and yn... wasn't. but that didn't stop the pit of frustration burning deep in their stomach – frustration at themselves, mostly, at the world, and everything else. although, that last one was the more general ire for living made worse by this whole debacle.

sometimes, privately, yn wondered if it really was just a big coincidence, if they really were their last soulmate. it just felt like they... didn't fit. and, just occasionally, they wished it was that way – although, not really. they didn't know the others, and didn't really know how to feel about them just yet, but the idea of chan being with someone else made yn's chest clench painfully.

"what if," minji started again, "what if you showed up at the company building with like, one of those massive rose bouquets and blasting a sad song on your boombox?"

"well, first of all," yn said, "where are the funds for this rose bouquet? with the price of everything these days, i'm not sure i even have enough for twelve. secondly, a boombox? how old do you think i am? contrary to apparently popular belief, i do not have a boombox. and, you know, i think security wouldn't let me within 50 metres of the building."

"darn."

the quiet clicking of lego pieces broke the silence between the poignant lack of ideas in the brainstorming session. it was difficult, coming up with a way to explain to your best friend that you'd been hiding the fact that you were his last soulmate that made you look least like a buffoon. it was unavoidable, looking like an idiot, but surely there had to be a way too minimize the damage, right?

it wasn't going very well so far.

yn sighed heavily to themselves. any angle you looked at it, it was bad. the problem being self aware was exactly that – being self aware. the second-hand embarrassment at their own actions had suddenly hit them like a freight train early that morning during classes. it had not been a pleasant day, with every free moment spent shrivelling into their own skin in a very visceral reaction. god, it was just... ugh.

the doorbell rung out through their apartment, breaking the spell that had fallen over the three of them. bingus trotted in, complaining loudly at the intrusion. his fur was all scruffed up, indicative of his 47th nap of the day that he'd just been rudely awoken from.

chika furrowed her brows, glancing in the direction of the door. "you got a package coming or something?"

"uhh... not to my knowledge..." bingus jumped up onto yn's lap, circling a few times before climbing up onto their shoulders like a parrot. chika reached over to brush his fur back into place, eliciting a deep, crackly purr as he pushed his face against her hand. "i'll go see who it is..."

yn stood up tentatively, gently supporting bingus's ass so he didn't fall off during the process, before walking over to the door, grabbing the keys off the hook next to it and unlocking it.

"hey," minho said conversationally, like he hadn't just shown up at yn's door unceremoniously.

"hi," yn mumbled, forcing the word out. they couldn't decide where to look, the doorframe taken up by not only minho, but seungmin and hyunjin as well, the other two appearing at least a little more awkward about the situation.

"we know."

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a/n: if you're wondering I do find joy in torturing people with cliff hangers

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[slutoru1207]

Nowhere to Run pt 2

GIF by red-rift

Mohawk Mark x Reader

The silence stretches between you and Mohawk Mark like a tense wire, but it's broken by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. It’s the kind of growl that could be heard by a mile away, echoing over the barren landscape like a dying animal’s last plea for food.

Mark winces, then shoots you a sideways glance. "Not my fault," he mutters defensively, as if you were somehow responsible for his digestive issues. "You wouldn’t believe how much energy it takes to look this good all the time."

You snort despite yourself, arms crossed tightly as you eye the horizon. "Yeah, I’m sure it takes a lot of energy to look like you just woke up in a dumpster after a bender."

"Hey," Mark says, raising an eyebrow. "I’ll have you know that I’m the pinnacle of rugged charm. These things take time. This?" He gestures to himself dramatically, "This is perfection in motion."

"Uh huh," you deadpan, scanning the wasteland for anything that could pass as a food source or even a way out of here. "If perfection means looking like you fought a rockslide and lost, then yeah. You’re totally perfect."

Mark chuckles, but the sound is short-lived as another growl erupts from his stomach, sounding almost ashamed.

"Okay, okay, you win," he says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "But seriously, if we're gonna make it out of here, we need to find food. And I'm pretty sure you're not gonna find a McDonald's in this hellhole."

You squint at the desolate landscape, considering your options. "Well, unless you're planning to make some weird version of a rock salad, I don't think we're getting anything here. You're gonna have to survive on whatever wild survival instincts you have."

Mark gives a small sigh, muttering, "Great. Just what I need—survival training with you." But then he smirks. "I mean, I'm sure you'll be useful. You probably know how to catch a rabbit or something."

"Yeah, sure. And I'm sure you know how to make fire with your charming personality."

"I could," he counters, turning to face you fully now, his eyes gleaming with the same cocky confidence, "but I’m gonna need a good campfire companion to keep me entertained. You up for the challenge?"

"God help me," you mutter under your breath. "I’d rather deal with a mutant bear at this point."

The moment passes in a stretch of silence, and you both just stand there in the middle of nowhere. The tension between you is palpable, yet there's something oddly comfortable in the banter, as if this dysfunctional, sarcastic dynamic could be the only thing holding your sanity together in this vast, lonely wasteland.

Mark finally shakes his head and groans. "Look, we need to figure this out. And unless you’re secretly a survival expert, we’re gonna have to work together. But only because I’m feeling generous."

You snort. "Yeah, that’s definitely the reason."

"Yeah," he says, cracking his neck, "So, what’s the plan, huh? You got anything in that head of yours?"

You hesitate, narrowing your eyes at the horizon. "I don't know, you got any ideas besides annoying the hell out of me?"

His smirk returns. "Well, I was thinking we could wait for a dragon to fly by and swoop us out of here. Or... we could, y'know, just walk."

You blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious or just completely insane. "Oh sure, that’ll totally work."

Mark shrugs, still with that damned smirk on his face. "Hey, no harm in dreaming, right?"

You’re about to retort when your stomach rumbles, an embarrassing reminder that you haven’t eaten in hours either. You glance over at Mark, who’s still looking at you with a faintly amused expression.

"Alright, fine," you mutter. "We’ll walk. But if we end up eating dirt for dinner, I’m blaming you."

"Deal," Mark says, offering you an exaggerated bow. "Lead the way, oh wise survival expert."

You roll your eyes but can't suppress a small smile as you start walking, knowing this journey’s going to be anything but boring.

[ih8simps]

If Only You Knew

Ok imagine having a one nightstand with frat boy gojo and then you ghost him.

It’s not intentional. You don’t truly mean to do it. It’s just that you didn’t take him seriously. You thought it was just sex and nothing more. Well not really just sex, it was the best dicking down you've ever had but you thought that's just what frat boy gojo does every weekend.

You don't know it, but that was the best night of frat boy gojo's life. He finally got his hands on that pretty quiet girl that seems to be in all of the same lectures. He's had his eyes on you since the second week of classes and hes just been patiently waiting for you to walk through the doors of the frat house. Its where he feels the most confident and in his element.

On the faithful night you make your way through the red frat house door frat boy gojo is almost sure he must be hallucinating. Hes not sure if its the lights from the neon signs or the headlights of the uber you just got out of, but he swears you are glowing. Your eyes sweep over the room and for a moment he thinks you are making eye contact with him. His heart leaps into his throat and he lifts his hand to wave you over but then he realizes you are making eye contact with one of his frat brothers, chapter president, Nanami.

Frat boy gojo cannot help but stare as you talk to Nanami about (what he figures out) your physics lecture. Nanami says something, frat boy gojo doesnt really care about the words he is saying, but it makes you laugh. Hard. The beautiful sound of your laughter makes his own face break into a smile.

"Which one do you want to fuck more?"

"What?!" frat boy gojo whips around and finds Suguru standing next to him with a smirk on his pale face.

"Be serious" frat boy gojo mutters, making sure to not take his eyes off of you or Nanami. He may not look it, but Nanami was known as a ladies man by all accounts. He was nearly infamous for the escapades that went down in his room after parties like this.

"You should go talk to her before Nanami snags her. You know what he does to women"

"Who says I want to talk to her?"

Suguru spares a glance at his best friend. "Fine man. I mean if you aren't interested"

Frat boy gojo finally turns to fully look over at his friend "Don't you fucking dare"

Suguru throws his hands up in surrender. "A joke" he chuckles. "Seriously, y/n is cool. Go talk to her"

"Y/n" frat boy gojo mutters your name. Of course he's known your name for quite some time. He's just never let himself utter it, worried he might become addicted to the taste of it on his tongue.

"Hey". Its you. You just came over to him. You are talking to him. He cant quite find his voice or use his vocal cords for a moment.

Suguru fills the air with a chuckle. "Hey, y/n. I was just telling my friend Satoru here that you're pretty chill"

You smile at this and look to frat boy gojo for confirmation. His tongue still feels like lead but he croaks out a "pretty" with a smile on his face.

You laugh at this. The sound of your laughter fills gojo with the confidence to actually speak to you more, in hopes of hearing that laughter again.

At some point Suguru excuses himself from the conversation. You end up talking to frat boy gojo for hours finding out that, to your surprise, you have the same major. Not only do you have the same major but you have a few lecture hall classes together. Frat boy gojo feels a pang of hurt at the fact that you never noticed him in any of the classes when he cant help but notice you everywhere on campus.

You ask him for his number to exchange class notes and he fumbles pathetically to pull his phone out of his pocket. "Text me any time" he says, with a confident smirk spread across his plump pink lips.

"I'm a horrible texter" you admit.

"You call me then. Again, any time"

"Thanks, Satoru"

Its the first time he's ever heard you say his name and he swears he would give up his lifes savings just to hear you say it one more time. Something within him gets bold after hearing the way his name sounds rolling off your tongue. He needs to hear it again. He needs to hear you say it, whisper it, scream it. His need makes him bold.

"Hey, do you want to come to my room" he blurts out.

Its silent for a beat too long between you and he's sure he's lost you. You probably think hes some kind of creep. But before his thoughts can completely spiral you reply a curt "yes".

Frat boy gojo takes you to his room and in a blur you're both naked and writhing against one another. He swears he sees heaven that night. But when he wakes up in the morning you're gone.

He waits a few days for you to text or to call or to acknowledge him in any way, but you don't. To make matters worse its midterm season and everyones busy with studying. He can't corner you or confront you after classes because you've been staying behind to speak with professors. A weekend or two pass and then spring break rolls around. Gojo waits, patiently for you to text him but you never do. He decides three days into break that the moment you are both back on campus he is going to confront you. He needs to know why you'd literally change his world, all in one night, and then never reach out to him again. He needs to hear your excuse for ghosting him and maybe feel you against him again.

What frat boy gojo doesn't know is that the number he hastily typed into your phone that faithful night was wrong. You'd texted and called that number more than once to no response. You thought you just got the frat boy special and let it go. You figure it must not have been that serious to frat boy gojo. If only you knew.

[pompillar]

Surprise I didn't need anyone to ask for it I love pegging and sharing my opinions! So here's wonderwall the ghouls individually with pegging!

(Minors dni plz y'all, respect the boundaries) This can be read as x reader or MC bc I love our girl and she deserves to enjoy herself too

Frostheim

❄️ Jin ❄️

Disaster man. Good fucking luck pal, and by that I mean getting into his room. Have fun arguing with him before he finally gives up and asks you what the fuck you want... wait what??

He's definitely a bit skeptical. It sounds like a lot of work for something he's not actually interested in... but! If you mention that after the set up he doesn't have to do anything and you'll take the lead he might be more inclined.

Man's a bit shaken by how easily you take charge. Dragging him back to his bed and pushing him down. He's been pushed around by a few ladies before who wanted him. He hated it. But... something about the way you're doing it has him feeling something a little different. If you rip the buttons off his shirt when removing it he's going to be flustered, too flustered to even tell you you better replace that.

Jump his fucking bones. Once you finally slip into his well prepped hole he's trying to cover his mouth and keep from making any noise because he wasn't expecting it to feel that good... I think he's very unaware how powerful the prostate is and I wanna see this man get knocked off his pedestal and humbled.

Blushing down to his chest (that pale complexion makes it so easy to see how much he's affected by what you're doing) Also whines so loud when you call him pretty or praise him. If you know how to work your hips you might be able to make him cum hands free. He would be so embarrassed if he did. And you'd have to tell him it's okay, it's hot, it's cute.

Wait you called him cute? *blushing again* He miiiiight hit you up for this another time when he feels like doing the prep again... Let's be real. He's definitely hitting you up again.

♟️ Tohma ♟️

Augh this guy, what's his fucking angle? Not the time for me to mention how irritating I find him on a personal level. You have to track him down before you can ask him anything. That's going to be half the battle at this point. Just text him to meet up in the vault for tea don't waste your time.

What did you need from him? Oh? You wanna peg him? You'll need to tell him way ahead of time. He's a busy man with a very full schedule and a house full of ghouls that should all be on leashes for different reasons.

The definition of topping from the bottom. I'm pretty sure if he's not in control he'll combust. Handles all the prep ahead of time, still taking your clothes off like he's planning to be the one inside you. Does a little strip tease for you when you call him on it. He's sorry, maybe his tantalizing skin will be enough for you to forgive him?

He has one request of you, use one of the toys that has an insertable piece on your end too. He says it's more fun that way but he will 100% activate his stigma when you least expect it to make that thing vibrate like it's a racecar. Snarky bastard just smirks at you when you realize what's happening. Hopefully you can focus on pounding into his tight ass while that thing is buzzing like crazy.

He's also not very loud but he definitely gives you directions, harder, faster, a little more to the left. Very bossy, very smarmy, very rewarding when you finally get him to the breaking point and he has a hard time getting his words together. Oh once he cums he's trying to pull himself together as quickly as possible but you catch the little slip ups in his speech. Bitch you can't hide yourself forever in there, come out of the mental box you're in by choice.

If he's been thoroughly fucked he won't even have the energy to go have a smoke. Let him rest for a while before he has to go back to being the jack of all trades around Frostheim. You will definitely be doing this again if he has any say in it (he has all the say)

⚔️ Lucas ⚔️

This boy... I wasn't expecting to enjoy his so much but he's a sleeper hit.

Luca is a true gentleman, as soon as he hears you have a question for him he's setting aside time just for you. He is nervous as all hell when you mention it, like okay he knows what it is it's not uncommon in England. Has he ever done it? No! I mean not that he's opposed its just not... something he's ever thought of having done to him.

You'd have to guide him with prep and hold his hand through what you'll be doing to him. Even if he thinks it's embarrassing I think he would want you close for every step. He needs someone to be steady as he loses his sense of control.

It's your room hands down, he wouldn't be comfortable at his dorm. Also Kaito would lose his shit if he saw you going into Luca's room at night. Speaking of Luca looks so cute and proper sitting on your bed. Definitely undressing himself to help you. He's not buff but he's muscular for sure. His body is so pretty and you can't help but touch and praise him for it. You know he worked hard for it.

Open him up on your fingers and he will be a whimpering mess. Gripping the sheets and trying to bite his lips to shut himself up. You have to remind him that your dorm is pretty far from prying ears. He won't listen to that, he's too focused on your fingers. Once you slide home inside him though oh my god he's gone. You are hearing the most porn star moans you've ever heard a man make. Rail him. He's such a good pliant boy, you're almost convinced he has hearts in his eyes.

He'll come hard as fuck the first time, head tossed back and gasping for air. Hold him down as he twitches and whines from overstimulation. With how out of it he is it's admirable that he still wants to try and give you your happy ending too. What a sweetheart.

Tells you next time he'll be better prepared and build up a tolerance so he won't cum so fast. Wait, next time? He turns red when you mention it. You'll have to poke and prod him until he tells you he really really liked it. ❤️ Please have him again ma'am.

🏹 Kaito 🏹

You already know this man is down bad. Take him back to your dorm because his ass is not gonna do anything inside that ice castle. Too many chances for embarrassment. Instant over the top reaction, red to the tips of his ears down to his neck. Boy is so chronically online that he genuinely thought most people treated pegging as a joke. Not a chance blondie, get your ass over here.

Sooooo embarrassed he wants to die, refuses help for prepping because he doesn't want you to see that. As if you aren't gonna fuck him stupid anyway. Let him know you're still open to helping if he needs it *wink* Okay don't kill him before you get him to bend over for you!

Very self conscious about his body as he undresses. He's thin, he's not very tall, he's got freckles and let's be honest probably stress acne. Boy is shaking before you even touch him.

Please reassure his nervous ass, he might hyperventilate just seeing your strap. Use a smaller one since he's not gonna be able to handle it the first time. You need to move slow and steady with him. Rub his shoulders and give him kisses and hickies. He needs to know this isn't some weird thing and that you want him because he's Kaito not because he's agreeing to be fucked by you.

As soon as you're in he's sobbing like a baby, not because it hurts, no you made sure it didn't. You fingered him really good. He's just overwhelmed by the intimacy of it. Kaito starts begging you to move, he can't handle the intensity of you sitting still. And he needs you to start fucking him before he goes crazy.

He is sooooooo loud! Like he can't hold back any noise whatsoever. His voice goes so high pitched and whiny. It's so fucking cute. Will pass out after he cums, his vision probably whited out and everything. Take care of him will you?

Just wait a while, he'll come to you like a nervous little bunny asking for it again. You can probably also get him to dress up for you. Kaito is putty in your hands.

Vagastrom

🥊 Alan 🥊

Alaaaaan, ugh, he's so good. You don't have to worry about him being turned off by it. He's open to anything for you. Though he's defintely a little embarrassed by the whole prep deal. He wouldn't tell you he's nervous or anything though. Just grin and bear it. Which is a bad habit of his. You'll need to break that later.

He does come to you with one issue though, he's not small like the other ghouls, he's not pretty like Leo or lean like Sho. Man is worried he isn't the type of guy this activity is made for... oh please prove him wrong.

Your place again, his place has a snooping threat. That's the last thing either of you need. This maaaaan, even kissing he's super careful. Get his gorgeous body out of those clothes and run your hands all over it. He won't let you finger him though... shame, it would have been fun.

Probably won't be able to get him to ride you because he doesn't wanna crush you. But you can absolutely put him in a mating press. Holy fuck this guy is shook. It feels like this? Does it feel like this for you? Does he make you feel this good? He's fighting the raging thoughts running through his pleasure addled brain. So you'll just have to wreck him to turn those pesky thoughts off.

Compliment him the whole time, he's pretty, he's cute, he looks so fucking hot like this. His little choked off moans are adorable. Once he's been fucked to the point he stops trying to control himself you're being treated to the hottest deep throaty noises. (not like a bj guys quit giggling) Make him cry out and beg for more. He's still going to avoid grabbing you despite how much he needs something to hold as he reaches his peak.

Out of it but still wants to make you feel good. His fingers, his tongue, his cock, whatever you want to use to get off. He's all yours. Those words alone might be enough to get you there.

He's going to come to you again when he's gotten too stressed and pent up. Not the usual type he has but super over the boiling point. He needs you to man handle him and make him feel like he's not untouchable or unloveable. Expect this man to be ultra whipped for your strap.

🏍️ Sho 🏍️

Ngggh, this guy is a wild one. Not gonna lie I do love me a biker boy. And a guy who can cook. So anyway! Catch him after the food truck is closed. He'll look amused before you even ask the question, what's he so smug for? Bitch.

Pegging? Alright he's down. Yes it's that easy. Not his first rodeo either. He will tease you and dirty talk your ear off about it though. Senpai~ you want to see him get all cock drunk riding a big strap? Naughty~ Never would have expected you to be so perverted.

You already know he's either coming to yours or getting an R&R permit to take you out to a nice hotel. Somewhere Leo can't follow you and listen in on everything. And you know he would. He'd probably sit outside your window jacking off to it. The creep.

Once you get to the hotel and shower he's back to his usual flirting and teasing. Oh? What are you staring at his chest so hard for? You're surprisingly dirty. Trying to take his towel away with your mind? You just had to ask stupid. *chuckle*

Shut him up with your tongue while you get him stretched, and maybe give his cute ass a few playful swats. He has a very nice ass. It's a shame he rarely shows it off to be honest. If you tug on his hair he'll warn you not to be too rough, can't damage his pretty mane. But give it a nice gentle pull close to his scalp and he'll moan like a slut.

He is absolutely getting on top. Sorry but he likes to ride. He might let you fuck him in other positions but cowboy is definitely his favorite. He's the rider for a reason. And god does he do it well. Rolling his hips like he's on a mechanical bull. His cock bouncing as he whines and moans whenever the strap hits his prostate. Oh but he looks anything but desperate for it, it's slow and sensual until he gets closer.

This show is almost enough to get you off without being touched. It's erotic as hell and you wonder if you should be paying for this. But once he's finished he's eating you out. No ifs ands or buts, you are getting yours too.

He's probably one of the top 5 who come back and ask for you to do it again. Slides you your food and a napkin that says what time and how big of a strap to bring. Winks at you as you walk away.

📱 Leo 📱

Bitch, he's such a bitch, creepy little snoop. What a dick. I just want to see him break and have to live with the fact that an NPC can make him a fucking mess. Tracking him down's not hard. It's the isolating him to ask about it.

You're getting laughed at first and foremost, what makes you think he'd let you anywhere near his ass with a strap on when he doesn't know how well you can use it? He's actually super turned on just thinking about it though. That doesn't mean he won't give you hell over it. He knows he's beautiful and it's hard to resist him but you really are forward. But grab him by the tie and you're shutting him up instantly.

Takes foreverrrrr to prep himself. He's such a diva. Usually set up doesn't take ten hours Leo! Once you have him back with you it's game on. He's all talk and it shows, a single finger is enough for him to start whimpering. Loud, loud loud loud! King whiner. No other ghoul can outwhine him. And it sounds so good.

Make him take it face down ass up, he's going to scream if you use a really big one. (even his screams sound good fuck this guy) But trust, he's not letting you use a small one. He is begging you to fuck him like you mean it with that thick strap. The size queen demands it fast and hard and really big.

You better praise him, he's not doing this for himself! (liar) Oh the second you start calling him pretty or good boy he's grinding back and mewling like a bitch. At this point you might need to muzzle him. He 100% screams when he cums. If you edge him he's gonna call you a whore, I'm sorry, he's not.

Even if he's an asshole you should still clean him up and give him water afterwards. He's already trying to go back to being bitchy. Typical Leo.

You'll be getting a few passive aggressive texts insinuating that you clearly want to do this again. Bonus: if you set up a camera and show the footage to him later he'll actually be speechless and fully hard in under a minute.

Jabberwock

🐰 Haru 🐰

I wanna love him so bad but I have trust issues with characters that have those always closed eyes... Another good luck situation, have fun getting him alone, no Peekaboo, and when he's not busy. On the bright side he's all ears about what you wanted to ask him.

This man? You wanna peg this bean sprout? The one obssessed with ass and overworking himself and ass? Huh. I mean he won't deny he's intrigued. He does love a good ass and he has a pretty decent one if he says so himself. And he does. Anyway! He'll do the hard part of prep first. And find someone to watch the animals properly (Towa... Ren... *i'm watching you gesture*)

Take him back to your dorm to avoid scarring anyone, or sowing jealously into the other Jabberwock boys. (It's okay guys your turn is next!)

As soon as you get him in bed he's doing everything he can to please you. And that's not where this is going sir, sorry. You will have to force him onto his back and tell him that you're in charge tonight and that he needs to just lay back, relax, and enjoy.

Squirms so much because he can't be still. Put his acrobat body to good use and fold him in half, his legs quite literally go up to his ears. It's impressive to be honest. You can also tease him with his own prosthetic arm, he'll be getting overheated and that usually stays fairly cool. Make him jack himself off while you fuck him like a rabbit. The temperature difference will leave him dizzy.

Oh he's also loud, he can't help it. You're treating him so good, making his head go blank, calling him nice things and rearranging his guts. He might be in love after seeing the reverent face you're making at him. Twitches a lot when he cums, and it's a lot too. Probably nails himself in the chin with it.

Clean him up and put him under the covers. He's yours. Expect to wake up being the big spoon, dressed in yours pjs and him in his, him holding Peekaboo. (Bastard went back late last night because he couldn't handle one night without his round boy) This will probably be a lot of your mornings after this kind of night with him. Just know he's going to be your cute little service top/service bottom/service anything you want from now on. Call him any time!

🌻 Towa 🌻

Fairy prince ass, goat eyed brat. What a demonic little angel. He's so difficult to write well. Hopefully this is good for the Towa girlies.

This is a tough one to be honest. Clearly you have to talk to him about it at night or somewhere dark. Because humming and grumbling aren't going to cut it for this discussion. Once you explain it's something you want to do to show him how much you love him he's sold.

Make sure you explain things have to be done first before you get into this. Otherwise he's going to try and do it right now. Pouts but listens to you. He's also down to do it anywhere. Literally anywhere. Does not care what animal gets an eyeful. You decide it's best to take him to your dorm.

He does need help getting himself prepped, or so he says. You think it's just an excuse to watch your concentrated face as you finger him while he whines and bucks his hips against your hand. Also kissing you every five seconds. It's hard to avoid getting into a liplock with this guy. He's also very give and take so expect to get fingered yourself as he's being stretched.

You will be facing each other. He won't have it any other way. He needs eye contact and easy access to kiss you. Play with his dick while you fuck him nice and slow and he'll make pretty little melodic noises. Likes to trap you against him by locking his legs behind you.

Playing with you the whole time, groping your ass to bring you closer? Yup. Massaging your tits and rolling your nipples? Absolutely. If you get close enough it's quite literally an 'awful brave for someone within kissing distance' situation.

He will try to make you cum with him. Whatever it takes. If you don't he's going to handle you instantly after he cums. Pouts during clean up because you aren't cuddling yet. Cuddles are inevitable, goodbye to anything you planned to do later.

Dandelion play with him again soon! Teach him more things he can do to show you his love! ❤️

🎮 Ren 🎮

Ah, angry tsundere, classic flavor, love it every time. You're getting an earful. All of which is just Ren spitting venom because he's scared. He hates intimacy as is and you want to what?! You want to put a fake dick in his ass. Does he look like a little twitch streamer femboy with an onlyfans?! Not gonna happen!

You have to build some trust before going into this. He's emotionally compromised. Man has had some shit happen to him to become such a reclusive jumpy little wet cat of a man. After some gentle convincing and persuation you find out he's actually been researching it himself. He may or may not have already prepped... shut up he's not cute for being smart about it! He isn't blushing!

Once you herd this porcupine into bed he's way more nervous. He seems like he'll sprint away the second he gets spooked. But he's being good for you, don't tease him or he might actually run. Kiss him and give him lots of praise. He'll be red in the face the entire time.

His body is cute, lanky but actually pretty well maintained. Will tell you to stop staring and get on with it. Okay spiky relax, and breathe out while you push into his stretched hole.

Oh he's biting his lip raw trying to stay quiet as you fuck him. It wasn't supposed to be this good. You keep dragging your strap over that spot that makes him see stars. His eyes are watering and he tries to avoid eye contact.

He's crying once you speed up and give it to him harder. But you know it's not pain. No he's just getting the fucking of a lifetime. Whiny whiny whimpering whiner. If he's still able to speak it's insults. Just answer them with praise and he'll shut up quick. He gets really loud the closer to his orgasm he gets, full on ahegao face. Of course he would have one. Fucking nerd.

Aftercare is a movie and cuddling in his bed. He's still blushing hours later unable to believe he just let you do that. That being said... when are you free next? No he just wants to show you a new movie series! Quit grinning you perv!

Sinostra

🎲 Taiga 🎲

Not gonna lie this bastard is who I downloaded the game for... his appearance is so my type. It's unfortunate that his personality repelled me like bug spray. But I still find him a neat little weirdo.

First off, I commend you for your bravery. This jackass depends entirely on mood. I say this with all the love in my heart but he's the cats on my cat from hell that couldn't be helped in human form... humanish... anywho!

He's impressed you have the guts to ask him this. Sure! Could be fun if you're any good at it. If you aren't... well he's probably going to shoot you. So make it worth his while kitty cat!

You have no idea if he even understands how to do prep work. Not one of the questions he answered. Hopefully he does his due diligence. He will act like it was such a pain though. So you really have to perform to a high degree here. He's already a little annoyed by the fuss of it and you have a brain to keep from being splattered on the wall.

You don't have to do much, he's already naked and lazily jacking off when you arrive. Grumbles that it took you long enough and to hurry up and get over here. It's like less than three minutes before you sink your strap into him and he groans in relief.

Do him rough, up against the wall, face down on his bed, hell you could fuck him on the probably expensive fur rug on the floor, he'll be for it. If you manage to do something he doesn't like he'll let you know. Immediately.

Will push you into the torture chair and ride you while cackling. If he's feeling generous he might have a dildo you could ride while he rides you. You will be bitten. Position be damned you will be bitten so fucking much. You'll look like a school of cookie cutter sharks attacked you.

His eyes roll back when he cums, and boy is it a hell of a peak. Still giggling like he's drunk off pleasure as he comes down. You aren't getting away from being his pillow after giving him a good time. Just be prepared to explain who you are in the morning. Probably wanna put your name in his phone as kitty cat so he knows who to text when he wants to have fun again.

🪞 Romeo 🪞

Oh mister high and mighty of noble birthings. I flipflop between wanting this man to choke and wanting to choke him personally. So how does he take the question? About as well as he takes anything with his insanely high blood pressure. Who do you think you are you BB?! You aren't anywhere near important enough to handle him like that! This will launch into his usual acronym infused tirade so take a seat and wait it out. He'll get tired eventually.

That being said I have a feeling he's used to prep work and keeps himself clean frequently. I mean he's got to be ready for anything and that means whatever he gets up to with Hyde. Oh and don't bother bringing anything, after you mentioned it he got a custom leather harness made for you. He has designer dildos, toys and lube already. Take your pick and see if he approves.

If you have the guts to ask he might even wear some pretty high end lingerie. Wine colored lace looks sooooo good on his skin tone and he knows it. He even puts on a little make up to match it. The picture of perfection and sin sprawled out on his uber expensive sheets when you show up.

You're late, quit wasting his time. If you don't give him a good time he will be pissed. Insults are thrown as per usual so time to show Romeo that Juilet is in charge here. And oh is he down for that. He's a pillow prince. Why should he have to do any of the work? He's already prepped himself and given you the opportunity to fuck him.

He's pretty sensitive though, it doesn't take much to get him going, I mean he was already half hard when you showed up. Flip him on his stomach and you see why, a cute gemstone that matches his eyes is nestled between his cheeks. He is actively taking some of the fun out of it. But the sounds he makes when you slowly pull the plug out are worth it. His well stretched hole is on display and ready for the taking. Yells at you to quit gawking and get on with it! You defintely see his neck is red from embarrassment.

Once you get the, actually super comfy, harness on and pick a toy to use it's game over. Have him on his back so you can see his face, grab his wrists and hold them close to your body. He's already moaning like it's the best thing he's ever had. Work your hips fast and make him beg for more. He's loud but it's actually a very pretty sound now.

If he cums on his expensive lingerie expect complaints. But that's only his cover to hide how blissed out and affected he is. He's a sweaty mess so you're absoluttely setting a bath for him. It better have bubbles too. And wine. Pamper him properly afterwards and he'll be calling you over at night pretty frequently. Bonus: You should ask to fuck him in the cage in his auction hall. The prettiest birds deserve the best cages right?

⚖️ Ritsu ⚖️

Jeez, okay this guy is something else. I have a hard time choosing for him. He's adorkable but his lawyer passion is just beyond me most days. Regardless, he probably doesn't know what you're talking about. Will ask you to give him time to research what you're asking him for. You get several texts later to the effect of '?????? Did you misspeak? Is this spelled differently? Hello?????' It's okay you can laugh now before you see him again. Don't laugh at his flushed face when you do see him. It's going to make him second guess himself.

That being said you should absolutely tease him by asking about how his research went. He informs you while his cheeks are red that he thoroughly checked the term and it's origins etc. Including videos... you should 100% ask to watch the ones he found later on. He agrees but you have to sign this pape- smooch him to avoid signing an NDA. He'll be quiet for a bit and tell you that he does need some time still and will give you a date and time for your after hours leisure time...

On the afformentioned day and time he will show up to your room looking cool as a cucumber despite how nervous he is. He's going into this like he's in charge. Helping you undress and folding his clothes to the side like a cute little house hubby. He's still trying to be the dominant one but his face turns very red again when he sees the toy and harness.

Time to show him who's actually in charge here. Be gentle working him open with your fingers, he's going to burst from embarrassment. (Or use Acimo and make it impossible to do anything further) Unsure what he's meant to do at this point and too embarrassed to ask. You need to tell him to relax and enjoy it.

Once you get your strap in you see the absurd calculations going on behind his wide eyes and red face. Please don't let him start on whatever wild theory he's about to extrapolate. Roll your hips slow and watch his thoughts disappear as he grabs onto your shoulders and gasps like he's been scandalized. He has to lean back and let you do the work because he's feeling too good. This was expected from his research but experiencing it is a totally different thing.

Whimpering so loud when he cums. Another one who is very duty bound and wants to give you an orgasm too. But he's too far out of it. I think he might honestly be in sub space after that. Clean him up and cuddle him close to your chest. (Personally I think he has mommy issues so he needs to be cradled in your bosom)

You'll be hearing from him again, it's going to be the most awkward proposal for sex you've ever heard but it's cute how he's trying to not show how badly he wants it again.

Hotarubi

🪭 Subaru 🪭

Delicious dichotomy man. Oh he's a fun character to pick apart. Concerning but still draws you in. There's so many variables... so many different interpretations... I digress there's so many ways I could write this one. But here we go!

Instantly flustered, covering his mouth and glancing away. Stammering nervously about how improper that would be. Secretly he's thrilled to bits that you've asked him such a thing. If he's getting hard under the tea table there's no outward proof on his perfectly tuned face. If you're to the point where you can see past it just tell him to think on it and you'll be back another day.

You defintely need to ask Zenji and Haku to clear out. Zenji because he could just wander in and Haku... I don't put voyeurism past him. Man's a bit depraved ya know. Anyway once that's taken care of find Subaru waiting in the secluded tea room for you. You've been talking over text about this because it gave Subaru the confidence (cough cough the freedom to openly grin and giggle like a sicko /affectionate cough cough) and agree.

He's waiting in a beautiful white kimono with pastel hydrangea patterns, something gorgeous and innocent looking. What's underneath is anything but, he's only wearing a cock ring that's made to mimic a strand of pearls. As he slowly leans back and unties the kimono to show you his little ensemble his blushing face is cracking a bit. He's too into it already, his mask is crumbling enough to show the curve of a grin on his lips.

Devour him. Absolutely debauch this man, leave hickies all down his neck and collarbones. He'll get to see all the flithy things you want to do with him as soon as he so much as grazes your skin. Gasping and letting out pretty breathy sounds as you work your hand on his equally pretty cock. But that's not what you're here for right now. No it's lower, you'll find he's already slick with lube and stretched quite well. Purr into his ear about how good he is or how dirty he is and he'll whine. He likes praise but also being degraded a bit? Pervert.

Take him against the tatami or the wall, hell bend him over the tea table. Subaru is into it, feeling you rut into him like you've never been this turned on before. Mark him up with your hands, your mouth, dig your nails into his hips and listen to him moan like a whore. He needs the reminders for later when he's alone again. Not that he'll be forgetting this anytime soon but tangible marks are hotter.

Cries out like he's singing when you finally remove the cock ring and let him cum. It's an angelic sound but you know he's not even close. He is definitely in need of a rest after that fucking. Laze about on the tatami with him. He'll try to recover soon and bring you tea and snacks. Keyword try. You'll probably need to be the one to get the refreshments. His hips are sore and he's half hard already from the way his hole aches.

This guy is fiending for it immediately. Obssessed with your strap game. Expect to be seeing a lot of the Subaru behind the mask. He needs you to ruin him more and more. Please mistress?

📿 Haku 📿

Ohohoho I've been waiting to get to him. Pervert. Fucking degenerate. Slut. He's perfect. He's a disaster. Can he keep it in his pants? Do we want him to? He will 100% flip it on you the second you bring it up. Pegging? Oh princess you like a little give and take? Color him intrigued. If you need pointers on the technique he can give you a lesson on the best ways to thrust your hips. Oh but you would be on the receiving end of that. Hopefully that still works to teach you?

Give him a day or two to get himself ready, he's teasing you the whole time though. Texting you about how much work this is for you but he doesn't mind if you promise you'll take good care of him. Might send you a pic of some of his own personal toy collection asking which one you want to use on him. I will not lie some of them are fairly large. And a few of them are less than human... Haku why do you have a knotted dildo... Whore.

Last text and pic you get before you see him is him tugging his uniform shirt to the side to show off a peek of red rope with this, "ready when you are princess" When you get your hands on him, oooooh boy! That tease is in for it. Rip that shirt right off of him and admire the beautiful intricate ropework he managed to tie himself into. Nothing that would restrict him from moving but it's very fashion statement the way it's done.

Kiss him hard, bruise, bite and suck on his bottom lip until he's holding himself back from humping your thigh. Steal his breath away by marking him up around the ropes, tease and bite his nipples. (headcanon that he has them pierced) He moans so much when you tug the bars between your teeth. He's a bit of a masochist.

Another one who's plugged and ready for you. His plug is a bit longer though, one with the tapered spheres. He shivers as you slowly remove the toy and berate him for taking away the joy of working him open yourself. He chuckles and says next time he'll let you have the honor. Oh he isn't ready for how hard you decide to fuck him. Put the first dildo you like the looks of in the harness and go to town on his ass. He's loud, so fucking loud you need to shove your fingers in his mouth to quiet him. Haku sucks on your fingers like it's a cock, laving his tongue all over them. Tease.

You can fuck him however you want. He takes it like a champ and archs his back like a professional whore. When he cums it's not a lot, probably due to the rope that winds around the base of his cock and balls but it's just enough to keep him partially hard. It's multiple rounds for sure. Wreck him.

Aftercare is bringing him out of sub space and untying the rope. There's so many marks from it you're going to be rubbing ointment into his red skin for a while. He's defintely not letting you use it on any hickies or bites you left. He wants those as trophies for surviving the devouring princess. You swat his ass for the remark and watch his body shiver... Oh he's doomed, the look on his face tells you he knows it and you grin.

Regular texts from him asking you to come mess him up. Always ready when you arrive. Maybe you should start calling him princess...

📜 Zenji 📜

King of poetry, feminism and big dick energy. Yes I'm using the usual cop out of he's corporeal sorry I am not trying to figure out how to peg a ghost today that's more mental skill than I have right now. This guy is yours for the taking doll. Pegging has been around a long time and he's no stranger to the term. He will admit he's not really thought about it being done to him though he's willing to give it a try for you.

Benefits of ghosthood: No need to do any cleaning of the self! Downside of ghosthood with Zenji: He still has a schedule to keep for his writing and his videos. Who'd have thought he would be this active beyond the grave? You'll have to give him a time to get down so it doesn't conflict with his creative flow. I mean other than that he's free whenever you are.

Heading back to the secluded tea house because his dear little brother doll can't hear this! He's waiting there with a pen and paper, dropping everything when you show up to do his usual exuberant greeting. Despite knowing what's happening he's oozing confidence. You had hoped to see him a little nervous but he's so happy to please you it doesn't phase him. As soon as you start undressing he just poofs his clothes gone. Ghost powers are so annoyingly convenient. And wow the big dick energy was not wrong.

You'll be lazily touching and kissing on the floor for a while. Long drawn out foreplay is the only way Zenji likes to do it. It should be sensual and loving. Slow handjobs and his fingers playing with you. Wait don't get swept up in his easy loving, you have something to do here.

Minimal stretching required to be honest, probably ghost stuff. But he's singing your praises the whole time, telling you how that felt good, higher, a little bit to the right, no dear his right. Tells you how beautiful you look as you put on your harness and push into him, it definitely makes him groan halfway through his words. Pulling you impossibly closer as you slowly rock into him.

He thinks you look dashing like this, taking control, using him in a way he didn't think of. Kissing and touching you the entire time. You guys aren't going fast until you get closer. Then he starts to make noise instead of running his pretty mouth. Moaning, whining, that lovely voice of his is low and melodic. Damn you might cum without needing to touch yourself if he keeps singing for you like this.

When he comes it's loud and he's clinging to you like a lifeline. So many kisses and so much babbling about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. God he's so sweet. He's also immediately onboard to get you off. Which doesn't take long for him and those skilled fingers and that crooning voice begging you to tip over the edge. This man is dangerous with a capital D.

Expect to be lounging around with him after the fact for a while, lazy kisses and dozing off to the sound of the rain while he grabs his pen and paper to begin writing with his new found inspiration. You'll be doing this again for sure.

Obscuary

⚰️ Edward ⚰️

Damn this man, he's a mess. Literally. This guy is a pain to deal with normally but this is gonna be a whole other story. He's gonna throw out a bunch of bullshit the second you approach him about it. What are you talking about, love? He's old you have to spell it out for him. Hmm? You know staking is supposed to be to the heart right? He's infuriating, just tell him to be ready next time you show up.

That said you should give Rui and Lyca a heads up to clear out for the night. Rui might be clenching his fists but he's dragging Lyca away for you, he gets it. Lyca not so much. It's okay, Rui has your back. You should have the whole dorm to yourselves for the night.

When you arrive he's where he always is. Laying in bed with his laptop. Fuck that thing. You pause that video and shut it. He looks sad for a split second before you descend upon him and kiss his stupid pretty face. He hums into your kisses, caressing your neck as he pulls your body over his own. You'll get lost in the process of undressing him and yourself with all the heady kisses. Why is this guy a vampire and not an incubus?

Apparently because of his diet he doesn't need to clean himself either. But the prep and stretching is harder. You know, lack of blood makes the body work less than optimal. Sorry not sorry, you're going to be working his ass open for a while. The whole time he's staring into your soul or nipping at your ear. Husky voice whispering sugary words. Asking if he can have just a taste of your blood. Not tonight Satan.

Man's not a pillow prince. He's a whole pillow king. You will be doing all the work. Which is fine. You expected this. I mean look at who you're fucking. You knew. Speaking of he lets you hear his moans openly and without any hint of embarrassment. Fucking into him slow and steady has every little breath ending with a gasp or a groan. His voice sounds so much better when it's just crying out for you.

You could probably try to change position but he prefers seeing your face. He would make it impossible to move his body if you did anything he didn't want to do. His only movements look choreographed to be honest. Like he could star in a triple A budget porn film the way he sounds and rolls his body. The years of experience do him well.

When he cums it's very little, liquid is too precious for them to waste there. He's biting you, you're going to kill him... as soon as your body stops cumming. As you try to yell he quiets you and tells you he isn't turning you, he just needed to top up what he lost in your little tryst. Unless you wanted to be like him. He could arrange that. Smack him wherever you see fit he's just going to laugh.

He'll send you emoji filled texts later about how he would love to have you on top of him again soon. Don't keep him waiting too long dear. He's an old man remember?

🧤 Rui 🧤

Oh Rui, sweet darling Rui. (As per one of my theories this will reflect the idea that the kyklos is strong enough to repel or nullify other curses (ie. oui c'est bon) and thusforth Rui can touch us without his curse affecting us.) This man is king of being touch starved. One of the top three for sure. He's already elated and just so grateful he can even hug us at this point. Hand holding? Smooches? This is his dream come true. Sure it only works on us but right now that's enough for him. A break from having to be guarded at all times. Being touched by someone is something he's missed so so so bad.

Turn the tables when you breach this topic, he'll blush if you hook your finger into the ring shaped pendant he usually wears and tug him close. A bit startled by you asking for sure, he didn't think you'd be into that. No he's not saying he won't do it. Just surprised. His favorite girl is naughtier than he thought. Give him a night and he'll get everything ready for you. Do you have the supplies? Does he need to bring something? Just ask!

Next time you see him he's opted to come to you. He used to be in Clementia after all, the cathedral is his old haunt. Plays it so cool the whole time but he's practically vibrating with excitement. Has an overnight bag and everything. Uses your bathroom to freshen up before he joins you on the bed and falls into making out as easy as breathing.

God he missed kissing. But you make it better. Drawing gasps and grunts from him when you palm his body through the four layers he wears. Stripping him feels like opening a matryoska. But he looks so handsome shirtless, and slightly out of place. You can see he's not used to it anymore. Wearing all those layers has made him a bit shy without them. Worship his chest and remind him that he's gorgeous. Oh his nipples are sensitive. 100% moaning so loud when you suck on them.

By the time you get him undressed he's completely red and panting, cock hard and throbbing, leaning towards his stomach with how aroused he is. It's been a while okay? Give him a break. And break him. Make him sob with pleasure as you finger his loosened hole and watch him thrust his hips against you. Damn you might get him to cum with just your fingers at the rate he's going.

Watches you with loving eyes as you get your strap on and cage him in with your arms. He cums as soon as you put it in. When you try pulling out he stops you with a grip on both wrists. You can't be satisfied yet right? Come on. Keep going. Fuck him like you mean it. His dirty mouth earns him a rough thrust and he throws his head back with a moan.

He asked for it so he has to deal with it. Fucking him into full blown overstim mode, tears at the corners of his eyes as he whimpers and wails for more even though he's cum once already. You'll get at least three out of him. He's a flustered red mess by the third one but he's nothing if not a pleaser. Grabs you by the hips, despite his shaky hands, tugs off your harness and makes you sit on his face. He's gasping for air still as he eats you out in a dizzy haze. Might try to get multiple out of you too.

Once you're both satisfied he's thanking you in a low, almost reverent tone like you're his goddess who bestowed blessings upon him. Remind him with kisses and cuddles that you're not doing this for him, but because you want him too. He'll be on speed dial any time you wanna do this again. And he's down for anything so don't be afraid to tie him up or dress him up or spank him. He's down bad y'all he will thank you for literally ANYTHING you do to him.

🌕 Lyca 🌕

Prepare for the confusion first and foremost. Super eager to learn what it is that you want. When you explain he looks like a dog with its' hackles raised. Wide eyes, ears and tail out, going back and forth between turning red and going pale in the face. Gaping like a fish, the whole nine yards. Man is shooketh. Home boy out here calling this an affront against nature. Can't even stop himself from saying that won't make babies.

You will need to damage control, if he goes to Subaru you will never live this down. If he goes to Rui you'll absolutely never live it down for a whole other reason. So time to soothe the beast and hunker down in your room with some library books and get to teaching him that sex isn't just for reproduction. This will be several sessions and weeks after first confrontation before he finally warms up to the idea.

If he weren't such an I'm tough and fuzzy type of guy he'd be a shaking leaf in your room once it's time. Speaking of you had to walk him through clean up and prep so he's already a little frazzled from that. Be extra gentle with him. Start soft and kiss him sweetly. His tail is wagging... don't call attention to it or he'll pout.

Once you've got him comfortable again you can take the plunge into stretching him. He whimpers, whimperer supreme over here. Bluntly tells you it feels like a sh- Lyca shh! That's not appropriate for sexy time. He's going to hide his face as much as possible.

Getting your gear on is where you see him second guessing again. Take a short break to remind him that it's okay. You just wanna try this. If he doesn't like it then you'll stop. He loves that about you. That you take his feelings into consideration. Cuddle for a bit before you get back into it.

He will lift his hips and wiggle them when you ask if it's okay to fuck him now. It's not fair how cute it looks with his tail wagging but how sexy it is with the way his cock sways. Sliding in has him shivering, give him a minute to figure out how he feels. It'll surprise you when he starts grinding back and panting, gruffly begging you to move.

Fuck him slow but hard and you'll have a tamed werewolf boy in no time. When he realizes he's making all these noises he's going to bite your pillow. I'm sorry say goodbye to that one it's done for. If he can't get a hold of a pillow or your sheets he's going to bite his lips bloody. Closer to him cumming you're going to notice his tongue hanging out and cries of your name. It's so cute, you'll have to pamper him after he comes down.

Pet his hair and tell him what a good boy he was. He's stealing your blankets and pouting for a bit. Bring him a snack and some water and then he'll beg for cuddles. Kiss his nose and tell him how proud you are of him. Try not to spit your drink out when Rui mentions how interesting Lyca's new full moon strategy of having you hold him down all night is...

Mortkranken

💉 Yuri 💉

Yessssss I have been waiting for this little brat. (/loving) He's soooo... pathetic wet cat, but also very holier than thou. This is an interesting flavor of tsundere that is a personal favorite of mine. So diving right in. Screeching. Instant halt to everything he's doing and screeching about wh-wh-wh-wh-what are you saying?!?!?!?!?!? Are you insane?!?! How dare you even think about doing such a thing with him!!!! He's so red it makes his hair look florescent. Remind your brilliant doctor that it's not that far from a prostate exam and that he shouldn't neglect his own health. Get out of his lab you worm! -Screamed with all the command of a tiny angry kitten.

Guess who texts you later in the day with a time and day and haughty tone to his words? One Dr. Isami of course. It might not be until later in the week but you have it. He is a very busy man after all. Take the opportunity to plan how to take him apart.

The night comes sooner than you expected and you get treated to a very special house call. He's red in the face before you even let him in the door. Drag him in by the tie and push him onto your soft clean bed. He'll sputter and try to argue until you drop into his lap and start attacking his lips and jaw and ears and neck. He gets overwhelmed by the frantic pace and babbles between kisses. It's easy to tell that he's already hard just from that.

Strip him down and watch the blush go down to his chest, the shivering nervous wreck of a man before you is the total opposite of his usual self assured persona. Praise him for how pretty he looks, trying to hide his erection with his hands. Push those away before you get tempted to tie them up.

Slipping into your harness and putting the strap on into it you see his eyes follow your every move. Fear and something much hotter hiding in those teal eyes. Don't expect high energy positions from him. You do have to take the lead here or nothing will happen. Man handle him into whatever position you want and work yourself into him. He's gasping and grabbing your shoulders, pulling you close as he bites his lip.

Please kiss him a lot while he adjusts to the intrusion. Distract him and mark his collarbone with your teeth and tongue. He'll be halfway to drooling before you even fuck him. And when you do oh boy. Breathy little noises are being punched out of him with every thrust, he refuses to let you move away, his body curled around yours desperately.

Yuri will be crying, full on sobs. You know it's not pain so you just need to keep fucking him until he pops. He's loud loud, man is moaning and crying and gasping when he cums like it's the most earth shattering orgasm he's ever had. It probably is actually, his toes are curled and everything. Exhausted, he is not gonna be able to help you. But that's okay. If anything you know he'll be getting a solid night's sleep now. Tuck him into your bed with you and hold him close until morning.

Don't worry about the schedule you get after a week, giving you days and times to meet him, calculated perfectly for an optimized amount of sleep for him. (He needs you to ruin his pretty hole again he just won't admit it) ❤️

🩻 Jiro 🩻

MY MAIN MAN!!! Woo!!! (also finish line in sight aaaaaa) Lanky tin man ass. Love him so much. Now it's so simple with Jiro. He clearly thinks about it for a minute before agreeing. But you have to get Yuri to allow you to steal his vice captain for a night. His medication has to be taken around whatever plans you're trying to make. The last thing you need is to call Yuri over in the middle of it because of a flare up in his condition.

Talk to Yuri later, it's suspiciously easy to get him to lend you Jiro. He also seems to be avoiding direct eye contact. Jiro said something he didn't need to you're sure of it. Anyway, your plans are made and it's time to get to it.

Jiro is a medical professional. He cleaned and prepped himself thoroughly, and if asked he will tell you with all the technical terms included. You think you see a slight smirk as he watches the look on your face change into slight disturbance. When you get him to the bed it's easy to push him down. Undress him yourself unless you want it to take forever. Take special care of his glasses as you set them aside. He'll comment that it's hard to see like this. It's okay, you have him.

Trace his scars and kiss them as you go, he'll shiver and ask you why you think that's necessary. Hush Jiro, it's foreplay and you're hot. Grunts a lot as you continue worshipping his body and stealing his oxygen with your kisses. He wonders when you'll get on with it. Alright you pushy fiend. Time to strap on and strap in.

As soon as you push in he's got an arm around you, keeping you close enough to kiss. With how tall he is it means you've got his legs pushed up, hopefully his body can handle it for a bit. It can, and he isn't about to let you go. Grunts and lets out hot little breathy noises more than anything. If he didn't rock back against you you'd be unsure if he was actually enjoying this or not. Oh trust he's into it. He doesn't really like being in control so this is perfect for him.

That being said he won't do nothing and let you have all the fun. He's still trying to keep kissing you and tugging you down to nip at your lips. Seems like fucking him has made him more outwardly affectionate. He'll probably tell you that it was some hormonal state later. Whatever you say beautiful. Just keep moaning for me.

Jerk him off in time to your hips and you'll have him cumming in no time. His o-face is so pretty you'll want to see it again and again. But not something you're able to do right now. As you go to clean him up he'll exhert some energy you didn't know he had to pull you in and finger you until you cum. Those long fingers are so dexterous and he knows all the spots he needs to hit.

And now you're trapped in the bear hug. Post coital Jiro wants one thing and one thing only and that's skin to skin contact with you. When you wake up he's gone back to Mortkranken for his medicine but he sent you a text about how he enjoyed it and Yuri says his vitals are looking nice this morning. So you'll have to run this experiment again soon to see if these results are related or not. You just know he had that little smile on his face when he constructed that excuse to get you to rail him again.

---

PS pouring one out for @kykloss who inspired me to finish this but deactivated a few days ago, you would have loved this shit my dear.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

After reading your comments now I'm even more excited to read the epilogue!

She's a real sweetheart, right? Writing someone who wants to work with little kids, I wanted to write a young woman who isn't without her flaws, but really embodied that kind, nurturing nature that makes for great elementary school teachers. 💗 (And the kind of inner goodness that I think Dean would find endearing too.)

I love hunter!readers, but the soft!readers really have my heart. Not that a hunter!reader couldn't be soft per say, but I just love how cutesy she is.

Buuuuut maybe he should've asked Dean if it was really ok if he pursued the reader before he stepped in. Maybe as his friend, he should've asked Dean what the hell he was doing with Lisa when the reader really needed him right now lol. Maybe that would've been the wake-up call Dean needed to get his shit together and realize he didn't really truly love Lisa. 🤔

You're so right. Benny should have asked more questions!! Benny should have had the talk with Dean and if he is Dean's best friend he should have known. It kinda makes it sadder though. But I'll bet the epilogue kinda explains that a bit too 🥰 But at the same time yes, Benny was a good guy for stepping up and stepping in.

Ahaha yes!! I knew you would catch that! Oh yeah, but that's the kind of mistake a man not used to little kids would make, I feel like 🤣

It really is. I bet that Ben/Soldier Boy would let his kid watch something too soon and then live with the consequences when he can't have sex with the reader for a month because the kid sleeps in the bed with them 🤣

I knowwww I'm sorry I almost killed Dean, but this is the first of many wake-up calls for both Dean and reader. 😭😭

Don't be sorry, near-death experiences that make people realize they love one another is the kind of angst I live for LOL

I tried to do something different with this story and make it feel more realistic, with no real "villain," except that we can hurt the people we love the most unintentionally with our actions and inaction. What we say, and sometimes more importantly, what we don't say.

It really was wonderfully realistic- all the emotions all the drama, it was beautiful! I also think that it resonates more that way- making it about the internal and external struggle with relationships rather than some big-bad to fight. Because sometimes the big-bad is the little voice inside that makes you push everything down or sometimes the big-bad is you? If that makes sense lol.

Oh you saw that, huh? 😂 Yeah, I think you remember that turned into a fun "anonymous" ask in my inbox asking why I was so "defensive" when people criticized my work. I typically have thick skin and was ready to forget the comments entirely, but when that "ask" came in it really annoyed me, not gonna lie. lol I probably should've just ignored the inbox message and deleted it, rather than spend more time and energy on replying to someone whose mind likely isn't going to be changed on how they talk to writers, regardless. 😂 I get that this AU story was "different," and messy with these relationships, but that was kind of the point. Bless you though for your thoughtful and heartwarming feedback regarding the Lisa and Benny storylines! 💗💗💗

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that happened when I was in my two weeks off period 😅 But I don't think it's so much as you not having 'thick skin' or being 'defensive'- I see it more as you being open to the criticism, but them not giving you anything constructive. If someone says 'oh that's stupid' but then don't tell you why, it becomes more about the writer than what they wrote.

But oh yeah no. The fact that they felt the need to also send in an ask criticizing you even more is just uncalled for. I don't blame you for answering it, it would have annoyed me too- especially because lately I feel like the meaner anons think they're helping writers by being super rude?

Yes exactly! The AU is "different!" It's more about the relationships and drama and miscommunication! (slightly mad at you for that last one jkjk 🤣) AU's are supposed to be different, that's literally it- alternate universe. Which is why they didn't like it, because they didn't understand it. 😬

But you're welcome! I really did enjoy it and I'll bet the epilogue is going to be amazing! 💗

IF I STAY - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Deep breaths Are you ready for a rollercoaster of emotions? 😘❤️

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis

Word Count: 13.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, pregnancy feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, time jumps and flashbacks, sexual tension, mutual pining, spice~, and an ending…

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Now or Never

At the doctor’s office, Dean goes in with you for the first trimester ultrasound. There you learn that you’re going to have a boy. Tears well up in your eyes and slip down your cheeks.

Dean wears a look of amazement as he sits on the edge of your bed. He takes up your hand and squeezes gently. He tries to be a strong support, even though he also tries to hide the fear that begins to churn in his gut.

For one of the first times in his life since Sam was born, he feels the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. In a good way. In a fucking scary way.

He looks at you and sees the wonder written across your face while you watch the tiny shape of your baby on the screen. His heartbeat thwaps fast and loud in the speakers.

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you're making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

With his weekly hookup rate, in the very back shelves of his mind he knew something like this could happen, even though he thought he'd been careful. (Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.) But here, in this white wall-to-wall room that smells like hospital antiseptic, that thwap thwap thwap of a heartbeat reverberating in his ears, the reality of this is crashing hard on his shoulders and rattling down to the base of his spine.

Despite his earlier happiness, those thoughts stay with him when you two eventually get back into his car. You have the pictures of the sonogram in your hands. You smile down at them before you put them back in your purse for safekeeping.

However, you notice Dean’s sudden melancholy as he stares out at the road. He’s started the car, but he hasn’t moved to pull out of the parking lot yet.

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look���I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you, incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat.

When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seeming sheepish, and guilty. “I meant to say thank you. Just didn’t know any other way to say it.”

After a moment, you smile at him. It’s warm and almost shy.

Dean clears his throat, trying to ignore the way his face is heating up. He doesn’t say anything more. He just takes the wheel and shifts gears, pulling the car out of the parking lot. 

You don’t know what possesses you to bake cookies. Dozens and dozens of them, all the chocolate chip cookie recipes you can find. You’re in search of the perfect one. This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

And then, he’ll be ruined for any other chocolate chip cookies that try to grab his taste buds. He’ll say, Blech. Chips Ahoy? These aren’t as good as Mom makes!

…Or something like that.

Yes, these cookies have to be perfect. You’ll even write the ingredients down on a notecard and hide it away, and it’ll become your family secret recipe.

Once you feel like your cookie game is strong enough, you decide to test these babies out. You bring two dozen painstakingly baked confections to Firehouse 83, where Dean works. The man is a bottomless pit, to be sure, but you also want other people’s unbiased opinions. For science.

You park your car on the side of the road, making sure you’re not blocking the driveway where two huge fire trucks are parked. You head inside the firehouse with your big container under your arm and your purse on the other. Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

You’re still determined to be active though! You plan to keep working until you have the baby. Your parents live a few hours away, but you’re grateful that they want to help out as much as possible.

Even though they weren’t happy to hear about how you got pregnant, by now they've met Dean and begrudgingly admitted to liking him. He's really stepped up to the responsibility of a future father, insisting on baby-proofing your apartment, helping you shop for the essentials, and going with you to as many doctor’s appointments as he can. He’s even agreed to giving you child support payments, even though you hadn’t wanted to ask for it.

You look for him now as you enter the firehouse, trying to push the heavy glass door open with one hand.

“Here, I got you,” says a familiar baritone voice.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the man who helps you inside.

“Benny! It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

“Dean filled you in?” you ask. You hope so. Having to explain the story to one of his own friends would be embarrassing, especially since this is the man you walked in Sam’s wedding with. It reminds you of that day, and the way you told Dean that news in a glorified closet, with shaking hands and the wrong kind of butterflies.

Thankfully, Benny nods. “That he did…but come on, I’ll show you around. And I see you’ve brought somethin’ special for us?”

He gestures at the container you're holding and offers to take it off your hands. You give it to him, grateful for the help.

“Yeah, and I want you guys to give me your honest opinion.”

Benny tosses you a wink and a smile. “That I can do.”

Your cheeks begin to warm in a blush, but the way he helps you to a comfy couch in the common room earns your smile. There are still good men left in this world, and you’re glad to know that Dean works so well with one.

“You want some coffee, or water? Think we might have some lemonade,” Benny says.

“Water would be great, thank you,” you reply, as you rub your belly. The little man has decided to kick at your liver today. “I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

It's your biggest challenge, to be honest. Try wrangling a group of fifteen to twenty six-year-olds while running on green tea, the fumes of sleep deprivation, reduced bladder control, and as much vim as you can muster.

“Ah, right,” Benny nods. “My sister has two kids. She cut out coffee, pain meds, some dairy stuff. But she claimed cheesecake was all right, ‘cause it’s got cake in the name.”

You giggle. “I see no flaw in her logic.”

Down the hall of the firehouse, Dean is just coming back in from going through a set of drills. He’s still the Candidate—the freshest blood in the house—so they’ve been putting him through his paces for the past several months. He’s eager to learn and to prove himself.

His ears perk up in confusion though. Did he just hear your voice?

Why does it smell like a bakery in here?

When he rounds the corner, he sees you in the common room, smiling and giggling like a teenager at something Benny said to you while he eats a soft baked cookie right out of a Tupperware container. You must’ve brought it for the firehouse.

This cozy little scene kind of annoys Dean somehow, though he doesn’t know why. He does know that it shouldn’t.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Dean says, forcing himself to smile. It becomes easier when you look his way, your eyes brightening at his arrival.

“There you are! Come ‘ere and try these,” you say, pointing at the box Benny holds. “Tell me if our son’s going to have the best PTA mom ever.”

Dean can’t help but grin after trying a big bite of one of your cookies.

“Oh, mah Gah,” he says, holding a hand under his mouth so nothing comes crumbling out.

“Good?” you ask.

“Good friggin’ cookie,” he confirms, after he swallows. “You’re gonna have the other parents frothing at the mouth. Who’s gonna be able to compete with this?”

Benny nods in agreement. When Dean squeezes your shoulder, your sweet, happy smile makes him smile too.

She’s going to be a good mom, he thinks. He can only hope against hope that he can be the man his son needs.

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

However, the embarrassment of him pointing out the fluid beginning to stain your slacks is swiftly cut off by your shock. Your first call is to the principal, to have her send someone to cover your class. Your next call is to Dean, telling him to meet you at the hospital.

“Why the hell did he have to bring her,” you mutter to yourself, wiping sweat from your brow. Here you are, gritting your teeth through contraction after contraction in this damn hospital bed, and Dean is outside the room talking to Lisa.

You know you have no real reason to be upset. She’s been trying her best to be your friend in recent months. Hell, she helped Eileen and your mom plan your baby shower. She even brought you flowers when she got to the hospital, but you notice how less than five minutes after she got here, she and Dean became embroiled in yet another argument. It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

The sex must be explosive, like the fireworks at goddamn Disney World.

But Dean eventually does come back into the room alone. His support grounds you over the next few hours. He lets you basically break his hand, all while he gives you encouragement (and stands by your shoulder, so he doesn’t see anything you’d rather him not see).

And then, your son is born. Every muscle, every cell in your body is exhausted, but the pain meds have kicked in, and you’re in that blissed out state between abject reality and being entirely entranced by the bundle in your arms. His perfect face is just there, sleeping for the moment after the nurses taught you how to breastfeed.

Dean returns to sit in the chair beside you. He gives you some water and a piece of a protein bar. You’re not that hungry, but he pointed out that you haven’t eaten since before your water broke.

“Sam and Eileen are on their way up,” he says.

You nod in reply. You’re too into your son right now to think of anything else.

Dean shakes his head in wonder as he reaches out with a tentative hand, brushing his fingers over the baby’s downy head. He was born with a little tuft of brown hair.

“Okay, down to business,” Dean says, shooting you a playful look. “I vote for Zeppelin.”

You groan. “Dean, no. Veto. I’m not naming my son after a rock band.”

“Aw, come on. It’s a badass name!”

“What about Aiden?” you suggest.

“Veto,” he snorts. You two agreed to getting five “vetos” each, but this discussion has been more like a battle of wills over the last several months.

“Okay, what about Daniel? That’s strong, classic,” you pose.

Dean considers it with a tilt of his head. “All right, that one’s a maybe.”

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile.

“You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently.

“Thanks,” he says.

Your eyes meet, and it’s a moment charged with something you can’t even name. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this feeling with him. It both fills your heart with warmth, and makes you ache.

Then the door opens. It’s Lisa, Sam, and Eileen. Dean’s hand slips away from yours as they all pour in to congratulate you and Dean, and of course, meet the baby. There’s a lot of soft cooing and playful shushing.

In that small chaos, your parents call to tell you that they’re finally almost here. It really sucked not having your mom with you, but your parents live far enough away that they were going to take a train and stay with you for at least a week. Their train unfortunately got delayed due to mechanical failure.

It's okay though. Getting through the past several hours has made you realize that you’re stronger and more capable than you think, and even though part of you is still scared to death, you don’t need a husband to be a good mom. You’re going to give this your all, no matter who’s beside you…

And that's no more apparent than when Dean soon has to step out again, leading Lisa out of the room. He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

It gets loud enough outside your hospital room that Sam and Eileen feel they have to intervene. Lisa is Eileen’s best friend, and she’s the best equipped to try and deescalate the argument from that end, while Sam deals with Dean. It’s messy, it’s irritating, and it means that even today, you can’t just have a little bit of peace.

You sigh and cradle your still nameless baby close to your chest. He’s all that matters. Already, your heart is so damn full just taking him in.

“What’s your name, my little love?” you whisper. “What am I going to write on your certificate, besides Winchester?”

“How about Benjamin,” comes a Louisiana drawl.

You perk up and smile in surprise. “Benny, hey.”

He greets you with a slightly hesitant kiss on the cheek. He’s brought the baby an adorable teddy bear, and you a beautiful bouquet of white and blue roses, along with a box of chocolates.

“It’s the assorted kind, but they’ve got plenty of the caramel ones you like,” he says, then gazes down at the baby. “Aw, he’s a little charmer. Already got more of you than Dean, that’s for sure.”

You laugh lightly at his teasing. “I don’t know about that.” You hope your son inherits Dean’s strong jaw, and his green eyes.

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

You shake your head and smile through burgeoning tears. You set the chocolates on the end table where he’s placed the flowers and the teddy bear.

“No, it’s very sweet. Thank you,” you say. You glance out the window of your room to the hallway, where the arguing between Dean, Lisa, Sam, and Eileen seems to finally be calming down. You’re so damn tired, you don’t give a crap about whatever they’re hashing out now.

You look down at your son, and despite your strong thoughts earlier, insecurity begins to creep back into your mind like inky claws.  

“How are you holding up?” Benny asks. His face is kind and concerned when he notes the change in you.

You meet him with a wobbly smile. “Honestly? I’m afraid. I know I have a lot of people who want to support me, and I’m grateful, but…I just have this terrible feeling that we’re going to end up alone, him and me.”

You look down at your son, and you have to wipe away a tear from your eye before it falls on his face.

A large, warm hand rests over yours. Your gaze raises slowly, and Benny smiles at you. He’s serious though.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he says. “You’re not gonna be alone.”

FIVE YEARS LATER... 

For all that changes, there are some things that stay the same.

Dean and Lisa are still the world’s most “off again, on again” couple you’ve ever met. Sam and Eileen are still going strong as the hardworking, driven career couple. Your son is growing more and more every day and just started kindergarten this year.

(You ultimately caved on Dean’s idea to name him Robert, as in Robert Plant, lead singer of Led Zeppelin.)

Oh, yeah, and the “you and Benny” thing? That’s been going well for two years now.

What can you say? The man is persistent, but respectfully so. He’s considerate, reliable, and always calls you when work at the firehouse has him running late.

You haven’t yet invited him to move in with you. That part you’re still hesitant on, mostly because of your son, but Benny helps you drop off Robbie at school and makes breakfast for you all whenever he stays over your apartment. Benny takes an interest in your son’s life and keeps up with all his energy, taking him to the park to run himself ragged before dinner, and helping you tuck him in at night.

Benny is a bit closed off though, the strong stoic type. He’s hard for you to get a read on, and sometimes you wonder if he’s just indulging you when you ramble on about your day or make silly jokes. Even now, sometimes you withhold the first thought that comes to your mind, hoping he doesn’t think you immature or…too much.

But Benny shows his caring in all those little things he does for you. They add up into the big things, and he makes you feel supported. He makes you feel safe.

He even helps you plan your son’s fifth birthday. Robbie wanted to go all out on a dinosaur theme; he’s been hooked on Jurassic Park ever since Benny “accidentally” let him watch it with him on one of your rare nights out with your friends.

So you set up a little party at the park by your apartment. You managed to reserve the biggest gazebo, where there are three picnic tables covered with dinosaur plates, and tablecloths, streamers in different shades of green. You even bought a big dinosaur cake—also in a radioactive green color that you hadn’t been sure about, but your son talked you into. Robbie thinks it’s awesome.

He’s running around on the playground with a few of his friends from school. Their parents (along with Sam, Eileen, and Lisa) are talking amongst themselves at one of the picnic tables while you try to figure out how to get the Bluetooth speaker to connect with your phone.

“Haha! Got it. If you're so smart, Alexa, why don't you connect on the first try?” You fist-pump the air triumphantly, just as Benny comes to your side. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek, making you smile.

“How’s it going out there?” you ask, nodding at the kids. Plus Dean, who’s gamely been the one to keep them entertained with different games. Right now, it’s a thrilling game of Cowboys and Outlaws, where Robbie and his friends are the cowboys, and Dean is the outlaw. He’s been hiding under the slide, behind trees and other playground fixtures, while the kids have little squirt guns to pelt him with water every time they find him.

It's pretty damn cute, and you’ve been taking pictures. You smile at the sight of Dean leaping out at Robbie and the kids, catching them off guard.

“You’ll never take me alive, Sheriff!” Dean declares.

“Oh, it’s goin’,” Benny remarks with an amused shake of his head. “Still hard to believe that guy’s about to make it to Lieutenant.”

“Hahaaa, gotcha!!” Dean cackles. He’s grabbed up Robbie and yanked him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Robbie screeches with laughter while his dad runs around the playground, being chased by a bunch of five-year-olds with squirt guns.

Your smile threatens to make your cheeks hurt. You know your life is…unconventional, to say the least, but Dean is a good father to your son. He’s also been working hard at his job. He just took the Lieutenant’s test, and even though Benny already occupies that position at Firehouse 83, a spot at another firehouse might open up for Dean to transfer.

“Part of me doesn’t want to,” Dean admitted to you last week, while he was working on fixing your stubborn, leaky sink. “All the guys there, they’re like family, you know?” “I understand,” you nodded. “You have to do what feels best for you, whether that’s staying where you feel comfortable, or moving up in your career somewhere else. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” He took in your advice with a slow nod. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I have to time to think about it. Lisa had other ideas.” “Of course,” you said with a smile, but it soon dropped. “Why, what did she say?” “Do what I can to move up,” he sighed. “She’s got a point. That title comes with a pay bump, one I could really use right now.” “I get that. Totally valid,” you said. “But I just think it’s important for you to be happy with it too. Especially with what you do, helping people, saving people…I’d imagine being in the right mindset for all that is important, right? Who you work with can be just as important as the money stuff.” Dean considered you with a smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

As you think about it now, you have to admit that he’s grown up a lot.

Dean has to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Am I already getting too old for this crap?

Feels kind of young to have a stitch in his side after a few rounds with these kids, but even he has his limits. Lisa comes to bring him a bottle of ice-cold water, which he appreciates. He’s tempted to dump it over his head like he does after successfully neutralizing a fire. It gets literally hot as hell under that helmet and mask and all his gear underneath.

“Need an iron lung?” Lisa teases.

“Toss in a new pair of knees, thanks,” he wheezes. He downs half the water bottle in one go, but he smiles at seeing his son keep running around with his friends. He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

Dean hopes his son likes the new model car set that’s waiting for him on the picnic table full of presents. In fact, he’s still surprised that you didn’t go with the race car theme he suggested for the party, but apparently, Robbie’s more into dinosaurs now. Dean wishes he knew that before he bought the model car set.

He looks over and catches sight of you and Benny wrapped up in each other. He has his arm around your waist while you fiddle with something, but the way you lean over and whisper near his ear elicits a smile on Benny’s face.

Dean’s good mood diminishes.

“Well, don’t they seem cozy,” he mutters.

Lisa arches a manicured brow. “Yeah, pretty sure he’s getting ready to propose.”

That earns Dean’s attention, his head swiveling back to her in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “Who told you that?”

“His sister,” she replies. “Meg’s in my intermediate class, remember?”

Dean nods, sipping at his water, even though he’s a bit absent in the eyes. Lisa watches him shrewdly.

“Why do you seem upset about it?” she asks. “Benny’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dean says. He doesn’t need that reminder, or the guilty twinge. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.

“And she seems happy,” Lisa points out. “Don’t you want the mother of your kid to be with a good man who treats her right?”

He nods, trying to hide his growing annoyance. “‘Course I do. I just…I don’t know. I still don’t see them together, I guess.”

“Well, they’ve been together for like, two years.”

Again, Dean nods his acknowledgement. It’s hard for him to believe that so much time has passed already. He honestly didn’t think you and Benny would be together this long. He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Lisa sighs and grabs his arm, pulling him aside before he can rejoin the party.

“Listen, we need to talk about something,” she says.

Dean restrains a tired groan. “Can this wait ‘til later?”

“I think we should do this now,” she says. A hallmark Lisa-ism. She’s opinionated and strong-willed, something Dean’s always respected about her. Sometimes though, the timing is damn irritating. He doesn’t want to get into another argument with his girlfriend in public, especially not at his son’s birthday party.

“Speaking of commitment,” she says with a sigh. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been on a five-year rollercoaster, you and I. You know why that is?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Dean says, crossing his arms.

“It’s because you’re spread too thin,” she says. “Between the firehouse, construction jobs on the side…not to mention other things.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

Lisa’s lips purse, before she pointedly gestures over at you with her eyes. “Well, for example. You’re still going to her place after your next shift to fix her fridge, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, should be pretty simple. I’ve just gotta swing by the hardware store and grab this specialty tool I ordered—”

“Dean,” Lisa deadpans. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

She heaves a deep breath, running her fingers through her long brown hair.

“I get that navigating this situation hasn’t been easy for you,” she says. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me either, but look.”

Lisa takes his hands in hers, uncrossing his arms. “I want to get married someday. I want kids too. And I want that kind of life with you…I’m just not sure you want it with me.”

Dean expels a heavy sigh. “Lis—”

“Don’t answer me right now,” she says, but she levels him with a serious look. “You need to decide though, Dean. Five years is long enough. You should know by now if you want to be with me.”

After letting go of his hands, she softens the edges of her words with a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then she turns to join the group now gathered around the picnic table where the food is, all the kids cheering for pizza and cake.

After the party, Sam, Eileen, Lisa, and Benny pack up their cars and yours with the leftover food, party supplies, and presents. Dean helps you clean up the trash, all while keeping an eye on Robbie getting out the last of his sugar-high on the playground swing.

You shake your head tiredly, if with a fond smile. “That kid’s gonna be up all night hype on that radioactive cake.”

Dean chuckles. “You want me to take him tonight?”

“It’s okay. I think he’s going to want to play with his toys,” you reply.

“Well, he could just as easily do that at my place,” he reasons.

You consider it, but you shake your head. “Yeah, but we got him the bike. He’s probably gonna want to try it out for a few minutes before we get him cleaned up.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean you and Benny,” Dean says, his tone becoming surly. “And about that. Don’t you think a bike is something you should run by me? That’s typically a ‘dad’ kind of gift.”

You pause what you’re doing at the sound of his tone. Your brows knit together.

“Sorry, but I feel like a bike isn’t exclusively a dad thing,” you say.

“My dad got me my first bike,” Dean replies. “Spent a whole three days teaching me how to ride.”

You take a minute to think about it. You understand where Dean’s coming from, so you nod.

“Okay, I get it. You want to be there to help teach Robbie? I’m sure he’d love that.” 

Dean tosses a wadded-up ball of frosting-covered napkins and stops, letting his hands fall to his sides in frustration. He draws closer and helps you untie the balloons from the picnic table.

“Yeah, I do, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Why can’t I take him home tonight?”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Well, like I said. The bike—”

“That I should’ve gotten for him,” he snaps. “Which, let me guess, Benny picked out. Right?”

You frown at him in earnest now. “Dean, why are you getting so upset about it? It’s just a bike.”

“Well you know what, it’s not! And it’s not just the damn bike either.” He swipes a hand over his face in annoyance, a telltale sign you’ve come to read well on the man. “Look, I’m missing too much shit, all right? Like, like the dinosaur thing! And the fact that I only get him on the weekends.”

You turn toward him, trying to put a cap on your own annoyance. This isn’t the first time you two have had a conversation like this. 

“We’ve gone over this before, Dean. Your schedule at the firehouse is just too unpredictable,” you say. “Robbie needs as much stability as possible between us. But…okay, if you want to take him tonight, that’s fine. We can bring the bike over to your place and show it to him there.”

You’re trying to be as reasonable as possible, and Dean knows that. Still, anger prickles just under his skin, and he can’t help but push his luck.

“You still should’ve asked be before you got the bike in the first place,” he argues.

Your brows raise high. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, it’s not like we bought him a Honda Civic. Honestly, Dean, why are you picking a fight with me right now?” you ask. “Did you and Lisa get into it again or something?”

Dean looks away and crosses his arms, giving you all the confirmation you need.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you nod. “I saw you two over there on the playground, looked pretty heated. But do me a favor. Don’t come at me with that energy, because I’m too damn tired of it!”

When you walk away from him, Dean can’t help but stare after you. He knows he fucked that up, just as he knows that you don’t deserve him snapping at you. He’s just too irritated to admit it.

For the entire week that follows, Dean finds himself distracted. He sticks to his word and helps Benny teach his son how to ride a bike in between their shifts at the firehouse, but Dean comes home each night feeling even more frustrated and drained than before. It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

These thoughts follow Dean to work, even while he climbs up the firetruck ladder in the rain. It’s parallel to a busted utility pole that still sparks with electricity, even in this torrential downpour. His task is to get up to the top and grab a large branch that’s tangled in the lines.

Rung after rung, he climbs. His safety mask protects his eyes from the rain, but he wishes they had some mini windshield wipers to keep his vision clear of the droplets pelting him in the face.

He also can’t help thinking of you. If Lisa’s right, then Benny’s about to become a more permanent fixture in Robbie’s life, and yours. 

Okay fine. It’s not like Dean expected you to be single forever, but did you really have to get with one of his best friends? Does it really have to be Benny, who seems so natural with Robbie, and more patient than Dean, and more of a support to you and Robbie than Dean can ever be?

And then there’s Lisa’s little ultimatum. He understands why she’s frustrated with him. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long. He knows she’s not going to wait too much longer for him to get his act together. For him to decide, as she put it.

It’s not that he’s not sure about her, it’s just that…

Just that what? he wonders.

He manages to grab the wily tree branch and maneuver it out of the power lines. 

He just doesn’t realize that his glove doesn’t have quite enough friction on the metal side panel of the ladder. Not only does his hand slip, but he’s forced to let go of the branch while he loses his balance. The branch falls to the sidewalk, far, far down below.

“Dean!” Benny shouts in alarm.

Luckily, the truck itself breaks Dean's fall.

Holding Robbie’s hand tightly in yours is the only thing keeping you steady as you lead him through the hospital. After the receptionist had checked you both in and gave you the room number, you hastened down the hall and up to the right floor. 2005.

Robbie breaks into tears when he finally gets to see his dad, laid up though he is in his hospital bed. Your throat tightens at the sight of Dean hooked up to all those monitors. He has his arm wrapped up and fitted into a sling. He has a thick piece of gauze taped to the side of his face, covering a wide, angry abrasion, but he seems to be resting easy on his back. The bed is at an incline, with most of the overhead lights turned off.

Robbie rushes to the bed before you can stop him. He hesitantly touches Dean’s non-injured right hand. “Daddy?”

“Robbie, wait,” you say, keeping your voice quiet. You quickly go over to the bedside and grab ahold of Robbie’s shoulders, but Dean takes a deep breath. His eyelids crack open.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, attempting a smile. His voice is rough and weak, but at least he’s awake.

Robbie’s lower lip wobbles as tears fill his eyes again.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says, a little stronger. When he reaches out to his son, the kid hops up onto the bed and buries his face into his father’s chest. Dean holds him as securely as he can, soothing his hand over the boy’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s okay, little man. ‘M okay,” he promises. Robbie nods, but he still continues to cry.

You can’t help but do the same. Tears slip down your cheeks without your consent. Dean beckons you over too, gesturing with his chin and a slight smile. You’re more tentative in the way you sit down at the edge of his bed. You run your fingers through Robbie’s light brown hair to help reassure him. Then, you meet Dean’s gaze and lay a hand on his good shoulder. You don’t know whether you’re steadying him, or yourself.

“How do you feel?” you ask. “The hospital called me. Benny told me what happened.”

The thought reminds you to text your boyfriend. You hadn’t had a chance to tell him you made it here yet. He must be downstairs grabbing a bite to eat, because he’s the one who rode with Dean in the ambulance and has been with him for a while.

“The hospital called you?” Dean notes in slight confusion.

“Eileen told me that Sam is in court right now, so I must’ve been next on the list,” you say. He also must have taken Lisa off his emergency list the last time they broke up for almost a month. He probably forgot to update it again.

You reach out a hand to almost touch the bandage by his temple. Instead, you hesitantly hold the side of his face to see the area better. Dean closes his eyes for a moment. You can see he’s in pain. Your hand lingers on his cheek, but you know, deep down, that it shouldn’t.

Dean doesn’t stop you though. He lets out a deep breath, savoring how nice the gentle touch feels when the rest of his body feels battered to hell.

“Fell off the ladder. Was a stupid rookie move,” he explains, but when he sees that look on your face, he tries to inject a little more joking into a smile. “S’ not so bad.”

“You could’ve broken your head as well as your arm,” you say, more sharply than you mean to.

Robbie whimpers and clings tighter to Dean. You cover your mouth, as if you can trap the words back inside. You don’t want to upset your son more than he already is, so you fall silent. Another tear works its way down your cheek, but you brush it away. Dean shakes his head.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he reassures you too. He manages to smile as he pats Robbie’s back. “Right, buddy?”

The boy’s head perks up. His eyes are still shiny, but he smiles too. He’s not one to speak when he’s upset though, so he just curls up against Dean’s chest and hangs onto him. Dean rests his good arm snugly around him.

You smile and stroke Robbie’s back. Though your hand lowers, resting on Dean’s hand. You take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. Dean’s fingers curl around yours, prompting you to glance up into his eyes. The way he’s watching you is soft, grateful.

Until the door creaks open. Benny steps in with a subtle clearing of his throat. You jolt internally, and you slip your hand away from Dean’s. You offer your boyfriend a wan smile.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, baby.” He comes over and greets you with a kiss to the side of your head. He smiles at your son gently. “The gang’s all here.”

“Oh! Let me call Sam, and Lisa too. They still don’t know what’s going on,” you say. You get up from the bed to grab your phone out of your purse. Dean nods in agreement and thanks you, while Robbie plays with his dad's long fingers.

“How you holdin’ up, brother?” Benny asks, after you step out of the room. He settles into the chair near the foot of the bed.

“Ah, you know me. I’m like a cat. Always stick the landing,” Dean says, smiling lazily. The morphine is starting to kick in again.

Benny smirks. “Maybe you do got nine lives, the amount of close calls you like gettin’ yourself into.”

Dean’s good humor fades. He considers his son in his arms, and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, no more,” he says. He got a taste of what it would be like to leave his boy behind, and he’s not fucking doing it. He’s not leaving you to raise Robbie by yourself. The mere idea tears a new hole in his heart.

His eyes sting just enough that he has to blink a bit harder, swallowing past a thick well of emotion in his throat. He presses another kiss to the top of Robbie’s head. Then, Dean meets Benny’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it.

Benny nods.

“You got it, brother.”

When Lisa steps off the hospital elevator on the second floor, you happen to be coming out of the bathroom to fix your racoon eyes. You’ve been crying way too much. You attempt to greet Lisa with something reassuring, but she cuts you off. 

“What happened, and why didn’t the hospital call me directly?” she asks.

Her tone is cutting, and it takes you aback.

“Well, Sam and I were listed as his emergency contacts—”

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

Jesus Christ. At this point, you can’t help it. You’re too tired and emotionally drained to lasso in your temper with this woman.

“Maybe if you and Dean stayed together longer than five minutes at a time, he’d put you back on the short list,” you sling back. “But the truth is, you’ve never just…been there for Dean. Not without demanding something from him.”

Lisa scoffs incredulously. “Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you. You’re the reason he can’t commit to anything. You think your little world is the only one that matters, and you call Dean for any little thing! What, don’t you have a boyfriend to help fix your goddamn sink?” 

You open your mouth to retort, but you pause as her words seep into your mind. She might actually have a small point about that one. You realize then just how often you’ve been asking Dean for his help, not just with your apartment, but with your car, and other logistical things that usually have to with Robbie. Dean’s just such a good handyman, and you thought he genuinely liked being able to help…even though Benny did mention once or twice that he’d be just as happy to help you.

“Lisa, this is a lot more than a leaky sink. I just wanted to get here with Robbie and make sure Dean was okay,” you try to explain.

“Good. I’m glad his son was the first person Dean got to see when he woke up,” Lisa says. “But I should’ve been the second.”

She brushes past you before you can even think of what to say. You’re in a state of shock, feeling guilty, incensed, and on the verge of tears all at once.

A familiar voice calls your name, and you turn to Benny just as those tears begin to fall. He gathers you up into his arms and holds you there in the middle of the hallway.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that, no matter how high tensions are today. I’ll talk to Dean,” Benny says. You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, clenching your fingers in his red flannel shirt. 

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, despite the sob that shudders through you. You’ve lost the will to fight.

Benny shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It ain’t okay, baby.”

“Please, don’t bother Dean with this. Especially not right now,” you say. You take a moment to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself. “I’m gonna go get Robbie so Dean can rest.”

You can’t shake the feeling that Lisa is right. You do rely on Dean too much. You just don’t want to think about why that is.

Dean makes a full recovery after a few months. He never does hear about what happened in that hallway, but he knows that things need to change. 

He decides to dig out his mom’s engagement ring from a locked box of his parents’ keepsakes, though he’s still waiting on the right time for it. He and Lisa start looking at houses though, for real this time. She hires a realtor and everything. 

He’s making a firm decision, and he thinks it’s the right one. He wants to be there for his son, but he doesn’t want to keep “spreading himself too thin.” He has to figure out how to set some roots, and some boundaries with you while he’s at it. He’ll just have to come to terms with the idea that he won’t get to be there for everything. 

He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad. 

Meanwhile, you’ve spent the past few months keeping yourself in check as well. You’ve stopped calling Dean for help whenever something breaks down in your old-ass apartment. You try to keep your conversations less about life and troubles and whatever funny thing your students did that day in class, and more focused on Robbie–strictly about his schedule and his needs.

It’s kind of painful, if you’re honest with yourself. Sam will always be one of your closest friends from college, but in the past five years, Dean has truly become your best friend. Because you’ve told him things. The things that come from sharing a child with someone, like Sunday dinners with your parents, flipping through old yearbooks and childhood pictures—and the details of day-to-day schedules and little stupid things that happen in moments between moments.

Dean also knows the deep cuts. Like being pregnant and scared and breaking down crying on the side of the road. Like sharing the deepest well of your insecurities with someone who knows your body intimately, even if just for one amazing night...a night you’ve never quite been able to put out of your mind.

However, you know that things can’t stay the same. From now on, he just needs to be your son’s father. Nothing more, nothing less. 

So today, on a crisp April 24th, you’re getting ready for a highly anticipated evening with your boyfriend. Robbie is sleeping over your parents’ house, and Benny has been planning something special for your third-year anniversary. 

You slip into your new dress, a deep emerald green, with a pair of black heels you’ve rarely worn since before you got pregnant. Come to think of it, you were wearing these the night of Sam and Eileen’s bachelor-bachelorette party. The night you…well, the night Robbie was conceived. 

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You even consider changing. 

You’re being silly, you shake your head. They’re just shoes. 

And yet. Thinking of that time so long ago, it reminds you of a recent Sunday dinner at your parents’ house.

Two Months Ago...

Your parents live modestly, but comfortably in rural Kansas. Their ranch-style home boasts a creek in the backyard, where your dad is teaching your son how to catch minnows. Your mom is inside working on an apple pie, knowing it’s both Dean’s and Robbie’s favorite.

You and Dean have kept close to the house under the shade, sitting on a bench made more comfortable by a pair of old polyester cushions with red, faded flowers.

“How much longer do you have to wear that?” you ask Dean. He glances down at his cast-covered left arm.

“Doc says it’s about ready to come off,” he says.

You nod, allowing yourself a certain smile. “How bad are you itching to grab my mom’s garden shears and cut it off right here?”

“Woman, don’t tempt me,” he says, his lips twitching at a grin. “I’ve been eying those overgrown scissors for the past half hour.”

You laugh and take another sip of your glass. Yours holds sweet tea, while Dean’s has some of your dad’s favorite whiskey. You both raise your heads when Robbie yells across the backyard.

“I caught a minnow!”

“Good job, buddy,” Dean grins. “See if you can catch a marlin!”

“A marlin?” Robbie questions.

“Yeah, like that orange guy in Finding Nemo,” Dean calls back.

Your dad gives Dean the same wry look you do, though yours is tinged with more amusement.

“Dean, that’s a clown fish,” you say. “He’s not gonna find that in the creek.”

“Aw, shit,” he tries to quiet his laugh. “Ah well, should keep him occupied for another twenty minutes.”

You bite your lip to stifle your laughter as well. Though something else occurs to you the longer you watch your son play and explore in the creek. Your dad has the patience of a saint as he puts yet another bait worm on the hook for the kid.

“He’s starting to ask questions, you know,” you tell Dean, in a quieter voice. “‘Why aren’t you and Daddy married? Why can’t we all live together?’”

Dean's brows raise. His good humor dims when he looks over at you.

“What do you tell him?” he asks.

You take in a deep breath, considering your words now as carefully as you did with your son.

“That we care about each other a lot, as friends,” you say, meeting Dean’s eyes. “And we love Robbie very much. Nothing’s going to change that, even if you and I aren’t together like a normal mom and dad.”

Saying it like that makes your heart twinge, for more than one reason. The way Dean’s mouth twitches into a rueful smile just makes it worse, but you try your best to ignore it.

“I never thought about having to explain it to him,” he says, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

It’s that anxious tell of his again. You notice every time he does it.

“I have,” you admit. “I just didn’t know for sure what I was going to say until it was coming out of my mouth.”

Dean smirks a little. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

You roll your eyes and sip your drink, crossing your arms as well. Dean considers you then, looking at you in a way that makes you raise a brow in question.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He sits back against the bench and rubs his hands down his jean-clad thighs. “For the record, I did try to ask you out once.”

“What?” you scoff incredulously. “No, you’ve been with Lisa since the beginning.”

“Before Lisa,” Dean says.

He isn’t joking. He isn’t teasing. He’s serious as he stares back at you with those green eyes of his. Your brows furrow as you wrack your brain. Did he drunkenly leave you a voicemail on one of those “off again” episodes between him and Lisa? No. You know you’d remember something like that.

“It was a few weeks after the bachelor party,” Dean says. “I called you up, remember?”

Your eyes widen. Finally, that jogs your memory.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

You have to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Dean, you did not ask me out,” you say. “You wanted to hook up. There’s a distinct difference.”

Dean frowns at you. “No, I was. I invited you over—”

“For essentially some Netflix and chill,” you retort.

“Hey, I offered to make you dinner,” he argues. “I didn’t say anything about hooking up.”

You pause at that. His earnest denial makes you actually think back to what you remember about that conversation on the phone.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition. “I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

You cover your lips with your fingers as you begin to realize…

“That was you asking me out?” you ask incredulously.

Dean’s brows furrow and he throws his hands up. “What? Who doesn’t like a little movie night?”

“Dean,” you huff another laugh. “You could’ve made it sound more like a date.”

“Well, ‘scuse me. Sorry I couldn’t afford the Ritz at the time,” he grumbles.

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

The more you think about it, the more you just shake your head at yourself. Why did you have to overthink it, like you do everything?

“Wow,” you say, softer and more contrite. “I honestly never thought…”

“Yeah,” he says. He shifts his gaze out ahead.

You glance over at him, now more unsure of yourself. He wouldn’t have any regrets, you think. He has Lisa. As much as they go at it, they always inevitably get back together. And now you know they hired a realtor. They’re about to start making solid steps forward.

But Dean surprises you with another question.

“Do you think if…”

He doesn’t finish it, but you think you know what he’s asking. You hesitate, your fingers flexing around your glass that beads with condensation. You set the glass down beside you. 

Just as you open your mouth to reply—

“All right, pie is cooling and dinner is served!” your mom calls out. Her head pokes out of the sliding glass door to the backyard. You offer a smile, trying to hide how you jolted in your seat.

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” you nod.

You turn back to Dean, who also hesitates. His eyes meet yours, but all too soon, he locks the moment away.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he rocks to his feet and goes out to get Robbie and help your dad bring in the fishing gear.

You grab Dean’s whiskey along with your tea on your way back inside the house. You consider the amber liquid disturbed in his glass, and you down the rest yourself. The burn down your throat is a good distraction. If he asks about it, you’ll say you got the glasses confused.

You know you’ll have to leave that conversation unfinished at the foot of the bench.

Now...

Benny comes by your apartment and helps you into the passenger side of his pickup truck, like the gentleman he is. He takes you to a nice restaurant in downtown, much nicer than the usual sports bar or kid-friendly restaurant. You're very much looking forward to eating at a restaurant that doesn't feature chicken fingers or "kiddie" corn dogs.

“This is gonna be really expensive,” you whisper to him, after he hands his keys over to the valet. 

Benny squeezes your hand in his, leaning over to kiss your temple. 

“Don’t you worry about that. We both deserve a night out.” His blue eyes gleam with amusement. However, his gaze gentles, becoming more sincere. “You work hard, carin’ for everybody around you. How about you let me take care of you for once.”

Your eyes begin to water, your throat constricting with emotion. You rub his arm gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.” 

It’s always easy with Benny. Nice and simple and easy. Nice, supportive, and considerate.

Nice and safe.

That thought follows you while you and Benny walk into to the restaurant. He’s reserved great seats in the back corner, overlooking a beautiful courtyard. It’s decorated with hydrangeas and light wood dining tables, all framed with a rod iron archway as the sun begins to set just so. After holding your chair out for you before he sits himself, Benny orders a bottle of champagne to kick things off.

He turns to you with a somewhat nervous look in his eyes, like he's steeling himself. It’s uncharacteristic of Benny, who’s always so calm and charming and sure of himself. It makes a zing of anticipation run down your spine, and…a dash of fear. You don’t know why, and you don’t know how to beat the feeling down as you fidget in your seat.

He subtly clears his throat, then takes your hand. “Sweetheart, I know I’m not all that good at the words you’re supposed to say. But I can say that the past three years with you and Robbie, it’s come to mean the world to me.”

Your smile softens. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, encouraged by your reaction.

“So I think it’s time I made it clear where I stand, and how much I want to be the man in your life,” he says.

Your eyes begin to widen in shock, but not for the reason he thinks.

“Dean,” you gasp.

Benny’s expression slackens. “What?”

You point over his shoulder, and Benny turns to follow your line of vision. Dean and Lisa have just walked into the restaurant. They notice you pointing their way, and they both pause in surprise as well. Lisa is beautiful as usual in a slinky black dress, completely backless (something you feel you could never pull off, unless you had an invisible bra to keep the girls perked up).

Dean is…well, you’ve very rarely seen him in a suit, but charcoal gray works for him. The open collar and white buttoned-down works for him, as do the three top buttons he’s left undone, showing a tantalizing strip of tanned skin. He stares back at you like he forgot you live in the same time zone, let alone the same zip code.

“Uh, hey!” he casts out an awkward wave, before he makes his way over to you and Benny. Lisa is less than enthused.

“We shouldn’t interrupt their night,” you catch her whisper to him, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear her.

“What’s up, party people! Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh?” Dean says, a little too loudly when he thumps Benny on the back. Benny grunts, giving a bit of a forced chuckle.

“Dean,” he greets. “I think I told you about this particular gin joint. Good to see you can actually clean up once in a while.”

“Ah, you know what, this monkey suit ain’t too bad,” Dean says, pulling at his collar.

You smirk in amusement. “Yeah, I remember how much you complained about wearing a simple tie for Robbie’s Christmas pageant.”

He smirks down at you. “Hey, ties still might not be my thing, but nothing wrong with a sharp collar.”

He pops his for emphasis. You don’t know why it makes you laugh, but it does. Maybe it’s just his face and the silly, endearing expression he makes when he pouts his lips in a “blue steel.”

“So, is this just a night out, or you guys celebrating something special?” Dean asks, gesturing at the champagne bottle and your full glasses of bubbly.

Benny gives his friend a certain look. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Today’s three years.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile back at him, though you’re a bit self-conscious at the way both he and Dean, and even Lisa have their attention on you.

“We should let you guys get back to it then,” Lisa says.

Honestly, it’s a relief. You and Benny nod, wishing them a goodnight.

For some reason, you notice how Dean’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But he goes with Lisa, laying a hand on the small of her back. You force yourself to tear your eyes away from them and refocus on Benny. You take up your champagne glass and raise it in offering.

“All right, where were we?” you ask, if with a nervous trill in your belly.

Benny smiles. He takes up his glass and clinks it with yours.

Lisa nearly sighs. She and Dean are back in line at the front of the restaurant, waiting to be seated. The second time she catches Dean glancing over at the table where you and Benny sit, she shakes her head and digs into her purse for the valet card. She’s done with this.

“I think maybe we should go to a different restaurant,” she says.

That finally earns Dean’s attention, mostly confused. “What, why?”

She just gives him a long look.

He realizes that whatever her reasons are, it’s easier to just give in than to fight her on it. He’s learning when to pick his battles. Or is he just giving up?

Also, if tonight’s “the night” he thinks it is for you and Benny, maybe he doesn’t want to stick around after all. Three years, huh?

“All right, fine. Let’s go,” he agrees.

Dean and Lisa wait for the valet to bring the Impala around. The minute he gets behind the wheel and turns the key into the ignition, she changes her mind.

“Look, let’s just go home,” she says. “I don’t really feel like eating out anymore.”

Dean’s brows raise. “What? Aw, come on. We’re already dressed and everything. You look great, Lis. Just tell me where you wanna eat.”

Lisa remains firm, with a small shake of her head. “Please, Dean, just take me home.”

After a moment of indecision, Dean sighs. He revs the ignition and does as she says.

It’s only a fifteen-minute drive back to their apartment, but in that stifling silence, it seems to drag on for a small eternity. He glances at her a couple of times. Lisa has her arms crossed as she stares out the window, watching the other restaurants and mom-and-pops shops and forest trees and old houses of Lebanon, Kansas go by.

Dean counts it a blessing when they’re finally home. He walks up the few short steps up to their ground-floor apartment and unlocks the door. He flicks on the lights inside, and she breezes past him to toss her purse onto the couch.

Dean takes off his blazer and begins to undo the buttons on his cuffs. He watches her all the while, knowing that a storm is brewing. She shucks off her heels and slowly paces the living room on bare feet, like her whirling thoughts are fueling every step.

“All right, I give. What’s going on?” Dean asks. “What’d I do this time?”

She pauses, with her back turned to him.

Shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t have said it like that.

He prepares for the inevitable blow up, but it never comes. Lisa just heaves a sigh. Slowly she turns, and Dean’s shocked and dismayed to see the tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He makes quick strides toward her, but she raises a hand to keep him at bay.

“Dean, when you picture yourself happy, truly happy,” she says. “Is it with me? Can you imagine yourself marrying me? Buying the house, having kids, growing old together?”

If Dean was thrown for a loop before, he’s even more stunned by her question. “Lis…”

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads. Her tears begin to brim over, but she blinks, somehow keeping them at bay.

It’s a bit too long before Dean realizes that he can’t give her an answer. At least, not the one he knows she wants to hear.

When he thinks of that picture in his mind, of course he sees his son. But the only other person Dean can imagine there beside him is…

“I…” He wills his mouth to work, but nothing else comes out.

The only face he can conjure is yours. Your eyes are warm and welcoming, your smile as bright and contagious as your laugh.

The only voice he can hear is yours, gentle and strong at the same time.

The only one he can see is you.

He knows the shampoo you use and the perfume you like to wear, how the sweet and floral scents mix together and linger in your hair and on your skin.

Even now he remembers the contours of your body, and how it could fit so well against his. He knows that you used to try and hide your shape under loose, baggy shirts and cargo pants that did nothing for you. He knows how much courage it took you to wear that red dress to his brother’s party, because you told him once, at one of those Sunday dinners at your parents’ house.

Come to think of it, there’s not a whole lot that Dean doesn’t know about you, except maybe what you see when you look at him.

“You love her,” Lisa finishes for him. “I think you always have.”

Dean’s throat tightens. Somehow he swallows anyway, and he shakes his head. 

“Lisa, I loved you.”

“Maybe you did, in your own way,” she says, laughing a little through her tears as she wipes them away. “But you already have a family, Dean. Go fight for it.” 

Dean doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he can do.

He goes to her and kisses her cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says. 

Lisa merely nods, wiping her face dry. She watches Dean Winchester walk out of her apartment, and out of her life for good this time. 

Dean calls your cell, but it goes to voicemail. He drives all the way back to the restaurant and doesn’t find you or Benny there. 

Dean realizes that what he’s doing, what he plans to do, is not fucking cool. He wouldn’t blame you or even Benny for being severely pissed when Dean shows up. He also knows that he can’t let another day pass where he keeps lying to you, and himself. 

He eventually finds you at home. What’s weird is that Benny’s truck isn’t in the driveway—just your car. He knocks on your door, and he waits.

He unconsciously holds his breath while he waits in that terrible existence of limbo. However, his heart thrums back to life when he hears your footsteps drawing closer to the door. Anticipation, excitement, dread, it all roils together inside him like a bad cocktail as the door swings open.

And he’s once again rendered a bit breathless at the sight of you in that dress. The color alone appeals to him, let alone the way it accentuates your every curve, from full breasts to the swell of your hips, the softer slope of your thighs, and bare toes painted. You’re fucking delectable, every curve, and a temptation without you even meaning to be. 

You’re just…you’re still so goddamn beautiful, like the night he first saw you. Even now, he can almost feel the give of your thighs under his hands, his fingers pressed to supple flesh. 

But then he’s drawn to your face, and your wide eyes full of surprise. Your mascara is a bit smudged though. Your eyes are red too, like you’ve been crying. His brows furrow in concern.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” you ask.

“I need to talk to you, but uh…did something happen?” he asks. “You okay?”

You’re reluctant to tell him. Did Benny say something to upset you? Or was it something he did?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

Instinctively, Dean knows it’s a lie.

“This isn’t a good time though,” you say, after clearing your throat. “Can we do this tomorrow, maybe?”

Dean leans a hand on the doorframe.

“Please, it’s important,” he says. His eyes implore you harder than his words. Please.

That does it. A sigh passes through your lips, but you let him in. He knows Robbie is with your parents for the night, which actually makes this easier.

Once he steps inside the apartment, Dean does notice that your bedroom door is open. Half the drawers to your dresser are open too, and empty. Certain frames that used to be on your coffee table are no longer there, like the one of you, Benny, and Robbie on a camping trip. 

“You want some coffee, or soda?” you ask. 

Dean declines and grasps your arm before you can busy yourself into “hostess” mode. He leads you to the couch, where you both sit down together.

“What happened tonight?” he asks. “Where’s Benny?”

Your lower lip wobbles, the beginning of your telltale cry face. Dean knows his son gets it from you, and it always breaks his heart. He squeezes your arm gently, trying to ground you.

“Benny proposed to me tonight,” you confess, taking in a sharp breath. “He proposed, and I couldn’t give him an answer.” 

You shake your head as the tears sting hot in your eyes. 

“He got so upset, he just—he left!” You throw your hands up. “But honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Dean tries to comfort you as you try and fail to wipe at your face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, cupping your cheek to brush the tears away himself. 

“Why couldn’t you answer him?” he asks. 

You look up at Dean, and you finally notice the shine of hope in his eyes. Dean touches your cheek more tenderly. 

“Does it mean I have a chance here?” he asks.

Despite what your eyes tell you, you still gape at him in shock. “What? But…what about Lisa?”

“It’s over. For good this time,” Dean shakes his head. “I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…”

And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

You begin to crumble all over again. You pull away from him and his touch, because you can’t believe it. You cover your face with your hands, sniffling as you try to make sense of his words, his touch, and the warm flutter threatening to brim happiness in your heart.

“God, Dean. You can't just..."

"I mean it," he insists.

You're still reluctant to take him seriously...no matter how much you want to. It's a conflicting realization that hurts, and makes you feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out, and makes you hate yourself for hoping his words are true.

"Come the morning, you’re going to change your mind,” you reason, without looking at him. “Like you’ve done with Lisa a thousand times.”

“No,” Dean says firmly. He shifts closer and prompts you to look at him, really look at him.

“Not about this, and you know it,” he says, catching and holding your gaze. “That’s why you couldn’t say yes to Benny. Because you know what we’ve got. It’s the real deal.”

You still look uncertain, even though you can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Dean has always had this way of looking into the very depths of you, like he can actually see every thought as it passes through your mind.  

“I should’ve said yes,” you say. “I can rely on Benny. I know he would stay by my side, and…and I know he won’t hurt me.”

Not like I’ve just hurt him, you think. Guilt still pricks at your heart. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on, and yet, that’s what you’d done, wasn’t it? You thought you had loved him. You’re sure that you did, but maybe it just wasn’t the kind of love that could reach down deep and grab you, set your blood on fire, and make you ache when the burn was gone.

That spark licks across your skin when Dean takes your hands.  

“What if I want to be that guy for you,” he says.

You allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him.

You know Dean. When he gets an idea in his head, it inhabits every bone and shred of muscle in his body. There’s no mistaking his resolve, or the steady grip of his hands over yours.

“If you let me, I’ll stay. I won’t leave you,” he says. In his eyes, there’s a firm promise. “I can be the guy you rely on. The man you can trust. The man who’s gonna love you, come whatever. Because now I know what it means. I know how it feels.”

You bite your lower lip against the smile that wants to surface.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Dean smiles for you. “If you wanna know the truth, I’m pretty sure I’ve been loving you since the day I heard Robbie’s heartbeat for the first time.” 

Your tears flow harder at that. A shaky breath escapes you, though it does nothing to steady you. Dean strokes your cheek gently with his thumb. 

“Please, just give me this one chance,” he asks. Begs, really. 

He doesn’t have to though. You nod, just a little. 

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s try.”

Dean's smile spreads slow, but warm across his face. It’s your favorite kind, the kind that crinkles his eyes. 

He leans in and claims your lips with his own. The passion of it is familiar, but you don't think it’s the same as five years ago. Now, there’s an underlying note of tenderness in his touch and each new way he tastes you deeper. He holds nothing back this time, and neither do you. 

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and then in his hair as you moan into his mouth. “Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answers against your lips, though he doesn’t give you much room to keep talking.

You haven’t heard him call you sweetheart in a long time. You feel your heart knitting back together, stitch by stitch. Tears sting in your eyes anew, but you squeeze your eyes shut against them.

“I…”

You can’t even continue the breathless thought. You hold his face desperately between your hands, pressing your forehead to his for a moment as you both catch your breath. But this man is like the sweetest, most seductive vice. Now that you’ve gotten another hit, you can’t resist. You no longer want to.

His arms wrap around you more securely, and he leans in to lure you back into his kiss. His tongue breaches past your lips to curl along yours with tantalizing strokes. His hands slowly move down your back and along your waist.

“Mmm, missed the hell outta this,” he groans into your mouth. Your heart flutters again at the way he holds you, the way his big hands squeeze you and feel you.

You let him guide you down onto the sofa cushions. He slots himself between your bare thighs and runs his hand up familiar smooth skin, bunching the skirt of your dress higher as he goes. He aims to get himself reacquainted with every soft part of you that welcomes him back.

For once, the gates around your hearts swing free. 

Dean never imagined that his own son would hand him the ring he gives to his wife, but today, it just feels like symmetry. He grins and winks at Robbie.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says.

His son’s beaming grin is wide and toothy, but the boy takes his job very seriously and delivers the other ring to you. You smile brightly and caress his cheek after you take the shining, white gold band from him. It matches the thinner band that Dean has for you; it'll soon join the engagement ring that once belonged to his mother.

Robbie had liked Benny a lot, but he loves his dad. He’s probably the happiest person in the room to see his parents take each other’s hands in front of the minister. 

Benny is understandably absent in the chapel today. You had met with him after that night of your botched anniversary to apologize to him, and so had Dean. Benny understood. He’d admitted that in the back of his mind, he feared this might happen.

“I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me,” you said to him. “You can even hate me if you want.” Benny gave you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

Even though Benny bowed out, carrying his hurt and his grief on those broad shoulders, letting you go meant letting go of a friend too. He put in his paperwork to transfer out of Firehouse 83.

As he’d told Dean himself that day, and in fact, the last words Benny said to him…

“There you go, Lieutenant. A spot’s just opened up.”

Dean didn’t want to get promoted this way. He felt guilty enough as it was, and not just for Benny leaving the firehouse. Benny recommended Dean to the Chief himself though, saying that if they were going to give someone a Lieutenant’s badge, it may as well be the guy who got a perfect score on his test, and had the natural leadership skills to boot.

To the end, Benny was a gentleman.

Now, Sam beckons his nephew over. Robbie quickly goes to his uncle’s side and puffs his little chest out as he stands proud behind his dad. 

Dean is able to take you in, your beautiful white dress, and everything about you that makes him smile…including the way you smile back at him.

Man and wife is all he hears. It’s all he needs to hear, before he’s pulling you closer by your newly anointed hand. He dips you for a thorough kiss in front of all your family and friends. 

You squeal in surprise, making Dean smile hard enough for his cheeks to hurt. Giggling hard enough to make you tremble, you raise a hand to caress his cheek. But you give him another real kiss after he guides you back up to your feet.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. The words are just for him to hear. Dean pulls back enough to see the truth shining in your eyes. Beautiful.

“Can’t help it, right?” he teases. 

You smile in amusement, but you grab his chin and shake it. 

“You got me,” you reply. “I really, really can’t.”

Your beaming smile softens. Even though the entire room is clapping and hooting and hollering in celebration, in that moment, all you really see is Dean. 

Here in his arms, you know that this is where you were meant to end up. From now on, it’s where you’re meant to be.

AN: From Lisa and Benny to Robbie and everything in between. Dean and the reader certainly aren't perfect in this, but what do you think about how their story unfolded? I truly hope you guys enjoy this one, because I've had so much fun with it. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

So please let me know what you thought! 😘

⋆˙⟡ Keep Reading: The Epilogue

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"

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