#made his lance a bit small but oh well
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irbcallmefynn · 1 month ago
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Cringetober 2024 #18: Fandom AU
Big fan of Deltarune: Chapter Rewritten. Yeah it's another swap AU, Undertale has those a dime a dozen. but this is Deltarune, there's actually not that many AUs for it (that i've seen).
When people think Deltarune CR they always go to Junkil or Scampton (I was considering doing Junkil) but I wanted to draw a different character from the AU cause there's actually a lot of designs made already and they're all awesome. So have a Ranger :3
(for those unaware, Deltarune: Chapter Rewritten is a Deltarune AU where the characters of Chapters 1 and 2 swap. So King and Queen swap to get Kueen and Qing. Lancer and Berdly swap for Nerdly and Ranger. there's a lot of official songs made for it already and iirc they're planning to make a playable version of the AU at some point)
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latay7 · 8 months ago
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hiihii!! could you write either lance/orter/carpaccio/rayne getting slightly jealous because the reader looks like they were bering courted by a guy, but turns out they were asking that guy for advice to help the reader to confess to character,,,thankyou:3
*ੈ✩‧₊˚WHY HELLO HELLOOO!!*ੈ✩‧₊˚
First of all thank you so much for your ask ><♡♡ and i will try my best since this is my first fanfic/headcannon , so i hope you like it ✨️(and i hope i wrote what u wanted bcz i can get a bit dumb)
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A misunderstanding..?
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Char : Lance crown , Orter Madl x fem!reader
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥genre : fluff
Note : reader appearence , prefrence , dorm , is up to ur imagination (wanted to be inclusive TvT) and god is this too long and it took me a while
Note 2 : im sorry this turned out to be bad , it's late at night and idk wtf am i , (english is not my first language btw)
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☆ Lance crown
You were an ordinary student at Easton Academy , you had your friends and lived your life , diffrent classes and sessions here and there and tried your best !
Although Easton's Curriculum makes every student busy with a full schedule , you're thankful that you get the time to hang out with your friends...Adler's most famous idiots students!! They were all so nice and fun so you had a lovely time with them.
You enjoy their company to the point where you squeeze your schedule to be with them which had a certain outcome....you developed a big small crush on the blue haired one and only , Lance crown!!(lance stroll lol)
You found his dedication and hard work for the sake of his sister Anna adorable , his love for her might go too much sometimes but- it doesn't matter , it proved how much of a sweetheart he is , which made you live him even more.
And now...you found yourself in a dilemma , how are you gonna confess your feelings to him?? THE Lance crown , who never looks like he seeks love..
You excused yourself with Finn to talk privately
Since he's technically the sanest in the group....
So , here we are in this moment.
You were with Finn outside his dorm behind a close corner ,and Lance noticed your dissappearence for a while so decided to check up on you.
"You see Finn , i've had this thing for a long time now , and it's just unexplainable.."
"Don't worry (Y/N) , I understand , but how can i help you out"
At this moment , you could feel your face heating up a bit , it's natural after all you're talking about a CRUSH.
"So i just wanted to get some advice from you since you guys meet a lot more than i do with him , how should i tell him a-and what if he doesn't like me back ,i mean he doesn't really show any interest in me-" at this point you started to ramble , and to calm you down , Finn held your hands in his as he tries to convince you that it's gonna be alright. Meanwhile...
Lance was watching , but he didn't hear anything...so he just saw how you acted but he didn't want to jump to conclusions.
'Was i too late..?' He can't shake off the stinging feeling in his chest , he was hurt , yet somehow mad or even perhaps...jealous?
After a while
It was after hours so you rushed back to your room after saying goodbye to your friends. And while you try to sneak your way through Easton's halls you see a figure you know , it was....Lance?? What was he doing here?
"Lance...? Why are here?"
"Oh there you are..you see...i wanted to talk.." this was concerning
"Oh...really ?..me too"
"I...."
The next words were DEFENTLY unexpected for you , i mean , sure he was nice towards you but you didn't want to be delusional so this was a shock....
But of course , with the shock comes the joy.
"...and i don't want to make things awkward because i knew you and F- why are smiling like that..."
A sigh leaves your mouth with a slight chuckle....apparently he was an idiot as well , so you decided to take a brave move.
"What are you-"
*kiss*
His shocked flustered expression is to DIE for.
"Just a misunderstanding ehe...." you smile.
☆Orter ( at this point tf am i doing)
As a devine visionary yourself , you have many responsobilites and missions to take , paperwork to do , and meetings to attend.
Thus , after your were finally chosen as the devine visionary yourself because of your hard work , you had to meet up with the other visionaries and work under them , including Orter Madl.
You've tried your best to leave a good impression on them because you were quite nervous , obviously.
You could say you were able to get close to some of the visionaries by being attentive and a fast learner , you were trying your best !
Seemingly except....Orter.
Despite your big efforts in helping him in paperwork , doing good on most of the missions you were went on , being so nice and respectful to him , he seemed like he didn't care , he declined everything.
And it DEFENETLY didn't help with the crush you developed on him. You found him elegant , hardworking , and most defently handsome (im screaming in the bus rn dude) despite him being emotionally constipated. (wtf am i saying)
So you decided to ask for help.
Here you are , in Ryoh Grantz' office , asking him what you should do considering he is married and all.
"Im sorry if this meeting is a nuisance Mr Ryoh but you were the only one i could ask for help.." a drop of sweat as you speak sheepishly.
" oh don't worry about it , you've been helping me out a lot recently so it's only fair if i return the favour , and besides , it is a good opportunity to .....distress" he says in a cheerful tone , he liked you , otherwise you wouldn't have been drinking tea in his office " and just Ryoh is fine ,now tell me , what's wrong?"
You tell him your issue as your embarrasment grows even further , i mean , that's not just ANY matter to speak about , However , you manage to go through the entire thing.
He hums in understanding "i see i see , well i have to agree with you on his emotional constipation , he doesn't even show his brother any emotions either"
Your chest starts to feel heavier as you sweat comically , "but don't worry about it , i mean , if i was to be really honest with you and if we talk in terms of emotions...."
Righ then and there , a certain someone was passing by as he heard only a part of the conversation , he got curious but he couldn't make out...everything...
Only a few words....
Emotions , confessing , feelingsa and...Kaldo??!
What in the.....he knew Ryoh was married and....does that mean he's helping you confess to Kaldo ??
Orter Madl , despite his stoic face and cold ruthless demeanor , had a soft spot for you , he felt somthing for you , he tried to show it by being less mean to you compared to others, and taking some paperwork of yours to finish himself , as well as doing what he can so you take the easiest missions , but it seems like it wasn't that obvious...
He knew you and Kaldo were on good terms but to the point where his thoughts led to thinking...you ? And-
No , he refused to believe it.
"So yes , Kaldo could be someone good to ask since these two are quite together at a lot of times-"
Knock knock , Orter entered the office in the middle of your talk.
"O-oh hi-"
"If you'll excuse me Ryoh , i need to talk to (Y/N)" And Ryoh accepts nevously -because his appearence was very unexpected- and lets you leave.
You and Orter are now walking through the hall of the building because you're following him to god knows where. Until you reach a private area where you two could talk.
"You didn't tell me why are we-"
"What do you have of feelings for Kaldo?"
"Huh"...was the only word that came out of your mouth , Dumbfounded was the least you could think of to describe yourself right now.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me , now answer me , what are the feelings you have for him"
"Wait a min-"
Realization never hit you this hard , so you started laughing as he watches confused , why are you laughing.
"Ok here's the whole thing mister eavsdropper..."
.
.
That ended well , for both parties , Ryoh bless your soul.
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zepskies · 1 year ago
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Smoke Eater - Part 3
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
AN: Ready for some more ridiculous flirting? lol
🔥 Series Masterlist
Song Inspo: “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie (of Fleetwood Mac) Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, fluff, first encounters and first dates
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Part 3: “Got a Hold on Me”
Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.
There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.
That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.
Lieutenant Winchester.
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You couldn’t help but smile back as you met the man’s gaze across the bar.
You recognized his bearded friend, Benny, who leaned over and said something to Dean. You couldn’t hear him, of course, but maybe he was asking a question. Because Dean nodded and said something in reply before he picked up his glass of what looked like whiskey. And he smoothly got up out of his seat.
Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.
“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.
Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.
“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.
“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”
Andréa huffed in amusement.
“So? That’s half the fun,” she said. A smile curved her lips. “I think I’m going to go play some pool.”
And with that, your friend abandoned you. She slid off her seat and patted your ass on her way over to one of the pool tables. You watched her go with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. 
“There you go, hun,” said Jo. She slid your drink in front of you. It came in a deep round glass on a stem, with a straw on the side.
“Thanks,” you replied.
You opened the straw and took a small sip to steady yourself, as you saw Dean coming out of the corner of your eye.
You even pretended not to notice the handsome man sliding into the seat next to you. His elbows rested on the counter next to yours, and you finally glanced over at him.
“Can I help you, sir?” you asked. A coquettish smile played at your lips, but you even surprised yourself with your smooth delivery. Inside, you had butterflies.
You didn’t notice the way Jo’s gaze lingered on you and Dean, a frown marring her features. Though she soon moved on to another patron.
And Dean’s attention was solely on you. He gave you a handsome smile, full of charm. You gave him expectant brows. 
“Well, we’ll see. I’ve got a question for you,” he said.
You indulged him with a nod. “Okay. What’s your question, Lieutenant?”  
“Why Girl Scout cookies?” he asked, speaking of the baked goods you’d brought by the firehouse yesterday. “I mean, we’ve gotten cakes, muffins, Krispy Kreme donuts. But I gotta say, we’ve never gotten some bakery-style Trefoils.”
Your smile brightened a bit.
“Who doesn’t like ‘em?” you asked. “I mean, you can walk by their table and be all coy and pretend you’re not going to buy anything, but then you walk away with half a dozen boxes of Thin Mints.”
Dean chuckled, and you enjoyed the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“Or is that just me?” you added, and once again sipped at your drink. 
Meanwhile, Andréa felt a hot gaze on her as she set up the cue balls on the pool table. She allowed it with a subtle smile. If it was the same one she’d crossed paths with earlier when she walked in with you, then she didn’t mind.
She was, however, getting impatient.
“Mind if I join you?”
The pleasant drawl of the man’s voice licked up her spine. When she glanced over her shoulder, her smile widened a fraction. Finally.
“For a game?” she asked. She straightened, brushing a smooth wave of dark hair off her shoulder.
And she turned to meet the bearded man standing casually behind her, resting his glass on the edge of the pool table. The gray of his rolled up, buttoned-down shirt brought out the vivid blue of his eyes. But even though he was tall and broad, he didn’t seem intimidating.
“To start with,” he said. His lips quirked at a smile. “But first, I think it’d be a damn shame if I didn’t ask for your name.”
Andréa’s head tipped to one side as she considered him. She picked up the second pool stick and handed it to him.
“Are you going to ask?” she replied. Her fingers curled around her own stick as she leaned a hip against the table. 
It made him smile. Those eyes of his considered her dress, an earthy green that brought out the hazel in her eyes, warm against her tan skin. But he lingered on her face, full lips and long, dark lashes.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked.
“Andréa,” she answered, and gestured to the pyramid of cue balls. “I’ll even let you go first, if I get your name.”
His smile deepened, and he leaned over beside her to line up his shot. He glanced over and found the challenge in her eyes was more than welcome.
“I’m Benny,” he said. He took the shot without looking at his target, breaking the pyramid and scattering cue balls across the table.
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Back at the bar, your drink and your conversation were both bringing a pleasant buzz to your brain. You nodded along with the music when “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie replaced Boston.
“You’re liftin’ me up,” she sang through the speakers. “Never let me down…and I smile whenever you’re around.”
Dean glanced at you with a small grin, shaking his head.
You couldn’t help but smile back. “What?”
“Nothin’,” he said. “I just didn’t expect to see someone like you here.”
Your brows furrowed. “Someone like me?”
He caught the look on your face, and his turned apologetic.
“Nah, I just mean…this doesn’t seem like your usual vibe,” he said.
You weren’t quite sure how to take that, but you eventually shrugged.
“To be honest, I don’t go out all that much,” you replied. “I like it here though. Good music, good drinks—”
“And good company, I hope,” Dean added in. You allowed that with a smile.
All the while, Christine kept singing.
“I’ve been down. I’ve been used. Now I know, I know, I know, I just can’t lose…”
“So did you guys like the cookies? Or did the Girl Scout thing put you off,” you teased. Dean’s lips quirked.
“Sweetheart, those delectables were gone by end of shift. I’m talking that afternoon. They were easily some of the best cookies I’ve ever tasted…I’m serious,” he said, when you became a bit bashful, and maybe disbelieving.
“I’m tellin’ you, if you had your own bakery, I’d be lining up every damn day,” he said. He then sent you a playfully suspicious look. “Matter of fact, you didn’t just buy those, did you?”
Your smiled warmed as you considered your half-empty glass. Your fingers traced the rim.
“Well, don’t laugh but…I actually went to culinary school,” you said. Dean’s brows rose high at the confession.
“Why would I laugh about that? That’s awesome!” he said. “Why didn’t you become a chef or something?”
Your gaze drifted downwards. “Well…let’s just say, life got in the way.”
His face dimmed a little at that. But you noticed, and you tried to perk up.
“So yes, sir. I baked all five dozen of those cookies with my own two hands,” you said more cheerfully. You raised waving fingers. “I’ve got the burns to prove it.”
You’d actually made a rookie move, trying to move one of the trays before it had sufficiently cooled down. It was bad enough that you had to apply some aloe last night.
Dean made a show of furrowing his brows, with playful concern.    
“Let me see,” he said. He straightened in his seat, acting more “Lieutenant Winchester” as he took your hands and examined your palms and fingers. You blushed, and you bit your lip against a smile as his larger hands handled yours with care.
He did notice the redness on your fingertips, and part of your right palm. He glanced up at you.
“Do they hurt?” he asked.
You blinked at the genuine note in his question.
“Oh, not really,” you said. But you smiled at the fractional raise of his brows. “Well, maybe they still sting a bit, but it’s nothing. I had worse in school, believe me.”
Dean hummed as he considered your hands. Your face heated up further as you tried to get a read on what he was thinking. Was he about to do the cheesy thing and kiss it better? (Though you probably wouldn’t mind, even if he did.)
Instead, Dean reached into his own glass and grabbed an ice cube. After shaking off some excess water droplets, he moved the ice against the pads of your fingers, then down the fading red mark on your palm.
“That feel better?” he asked.
If possible, your blush intensified as your insides warmed and melted like hot butter. It was a sweet, and seemingly earnest gesture that plucked at your heartstrings.
And that was how Dean Winchester got your number before “Got a Hold on Me” ended.
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Andréa was still chatting away at the bar with Benny by the time you decided to call it a night. She understood why you wanted to get home, to check on your grandfather.
You saw a bit of disappointment in Dean’s eyes when you said you needed to go, but he graciously offered to walk you to your car. It was pretty late, after all, and you had more than one reason to agree as he stepped out with you into the night.
You didn’t know if it was the evening chill, or his presence burning beside you that made a small shiver run through you. But once the two of you reached your car, you hesitated and looked up at Dean. You realized that you were reluctant to end this, whatever it was.
He quirked a smile down at you and tucked a wily strand of hair behind your ear.
“It was good to see you,” he said.
“Likewise, Lieutenant,” you replied, with a teasing gleam in your eyes. His were drawn to your face, lowering to your lips.
“Can I see you again?” he asked.
Again, your face warmed. “I think I’d be okay with that.”
His smile grew with his huff of amusement.
“Okay, how about I pick you up tomorrow night?” he offered. “That’s, uh…if you don’t got any plans.”
Your heart was hammering in your chest. Play it cool, for the love of God. Just say yes.
You didn’t usually agree to let a man pick you up on the first date, but something about Dean felt intrinsically trustworthy. Maybe it was the fact that he’d already saved you once this week.
“Sure,” you agreed, sounding more casual than you felt. “What did you have in mind?”
Dean considered that with a thoughtful look.
“Tell you what, let me take you to dinner. Somewhere nice,” he said. His hand raised to thumb at your warm cheek. He couldn’t see your blush, but you were sure he could feel it.
“I like dinner,” you admitted. Though you immediately wanted to slap yourself. Idiot!
Dean just laughed, and your blush turned to one of embarrassment.
“All right. Something we can agree on,” he said in amusement. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get home safe, okay, sweetheart?”
You nodded, though you paused, looking up at the indecision on his face. His gaze roamed your face, once again falling to your lips. Nervousness trilled down your spine, though you didn’t know why.
Maybe you were just a coward, but you didn’t wait for him to decide. You just gave him one last smile before you turned from him, unlocking your car with a press of a button on your keys.
“Well, goodnight,” you told him. “See you tomorrow.”
He nodded, stepping back from you. “See you soon.”
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Well, it was tomorrow. And you were trying not to freak the hell out.
“That’s it,” Andréa said. “That’s the one.”
You had her on FaceTime, with your phone propped up on your dresser as you raided your closet.
Your hair was pinned up, your makeup done, and now, she’d helped you find the right outfit—a dress in vibrant emerald green that hugged your curves and fell to about mid-thigh. You smoothed out the straps and twisted to see yourself in the mirror.
“Why’re you frowning. This is perfect!” Andréa said.
“I just…” You sighed, once again trying to tug up the neckline. It was a bit lower than you preferred, but if you remembered right, your friend had encouraged this purchase a while back.
“It isn’t too much, is it?” you asked.
“Not for a first date with a smokin’ hot firefighter, mind the pun,” Andréa teased. “You’re a knockout, babe. He won’t be able to pick up his tongue off the floor…but I’m sure you can find a place for him to put it.”
You spluttered laughing, even after you made a scandalized sound. “You’re ridiculous.”
Still, you knew you could always count on Andréa to hype you up. You appreciated that about her; she was confident without being petty or prideful. And while she never begrudged you for your more cautious approach to things, she did try to get you out of your comfortable shell when you needed it. This, apparently, was one of those times.
You chose a pair of black suede heels Dean hadn’t seen before, along with a few spritzes of perfume in strategic locations on your body.
“Okay, Dean’s supposed to get here at 8:00. Until then, regale me with more about your night with Captain Benjamin Lafitte,” you said, drawing out each word of the man’s name with a suggestive flourish.
Andréa gave a dreamy sigh. She smiled as she sat back against her headboard in bed.
“He was just so…” she trailed, like she was sorting through a collection of memories, savoring each one, all while trying to find a way to distill it all into a simple sentence. She had an artist’s mind, and so tended to romanticize. But you enjoyed the way she spun her stories.
“Earthy, and real, while still being charming,” she said. “I’m pretty sure he let me win the pool game. Which ordinarily would annoy the shit out of me, but when he offered to buy me another drink, I couldn’t say no, and…we talked until the bar closed.”
“Wow.” Your eyes widened as you made the finishing touches on your clipped up hair.
“Right? I’ve never had an experience like that with a perfect stranger,” she said. “I think…I think it was like, one of those connections you hear about, see on TV but never think it happens in real life. I’ll tell you, when we walked into the bar, his eyes were the first thing I saw. And they were the last thing I remember from that night, after he kissed me goodnight…well, more like made out against my car, but you get the idea.”
She smiled as her face became lost in thought. Meanwhile, you tried not to be envious that she’d had more courage than you.
“Are you going to see him again soon?” you asked. Andréa seemed to come back down to Earth at the question, meeting your gaze.
“I think so,” she said. “We’re trying to plan something for next week. He’s also a construction contractor.”
You nodded. “Yeah, Dean was telling me that a lot of them have part-time jobs when they’re not on shift.”
“Does he do anything on the side?” she asked.
“If I remember right, he said he fixes cars sometimes, but I’m not sure if he’s a certified mechanic,” you replied.
“Well, maybe he can spruce up your old-ass Toyota Camry. How long have you had that thing?” she asked.  
You scoffed. “Since college. And it was old then, since I got it used…I think I’ve racked up about 200,000 miles on it.”
Andréa grimaced. “Oh God. You really need a new car, before that thing breaks down on you.”
“That’s what I keep tellin’ her,” said Grandpa George. He appeared in the doorway with a mug of tea. He waved at Andréa on your phone screen. “Hey there, sweetheart.”
“Hey, George. What’re your plans this evening? Go-karting or roller blading?” she teased with a grin.
George matched it with a hearty laugh. Andréa was his favorite.
“Well, I think I’ll start at the roller disco and see where my heart takes me,” he replied. Though he had fond stars in his eyes, and you smiled, knowing what memory he was about to recall.
“Ah, my wife and I met at one of those cheesy-ass places in the ‘70s,” he said. “She was a regular there, had the knee-high socks, the shiny skirt, her long hair whipping around like a rope… I remember she skated past me and knocked me clean onto my ass. I watched her skate away, that little skirt swishing. I think I was half in love right there.”
Your heart twinged, both for yourself and for him, as you could see the sting of melancholy in his eyes. Your grandmother had passed away a few years ago, but it was still deeply painful for both of you.
George shook his head, as if clearing the ghosts of memory from his mind. He looked over at you with a fond smile.
“Well, don’t you look beautiful?” he said. And he reached out for your hand, playfully raising it above your head and twirling you around as you smiled. “Reminds me of when your grandma helped you get ready for the senior prom.”
You snorted at that. “You mean when she almost glued my eyes shut, trying to get those fake lashes on?”
You’d rather pluck out your own eyes than have to ever again go through the “de-gluing process,” as she’d called it.
“It’s a shame we don’t have any pictures of you that night,” George considered. A knowing smile crossed his face. “You looked adorable.”
“I looked like I had a wonky eye,” you retorted. “Why do you think I burned all the evidence?”
Andréa tried not to, but she chortled at your expense. You shot her a narrowed look.
“Careful,” she teased. “Don’t strain yourself, Wonky. You’ve got a better night than prom ahead of you.”
“Speaking of, when’s that boy supposed to pick you up?” George asked.
You let out a breath, slightly nervous as you checked the time on your phone.
“In about ten minutes.”
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“Okay, for the third time,” Sam said, trying his best to be patient. He sat on Dean’s bed while the man stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He was debating the age-old question: tie, or no tie?
“Red wine goes with red meat. White wine goes with chicken and fish,” Sam reminded him. “If you get red, you want to order a bottle of merlot. It’s full bodied without being dry as hell.”
“Yeah, merlot with meat. Got it,” Dean nodded. “What’s white again?”
“Everything else,” Sam said, once again. “If you order white, I’d say go with a pinot grigio. It’s light, can be dry or can be fruity. It all depends on personal preference, but I really like—”
“Well, I’m probably getting steak, so no to pinot,” Dean said. He finally decided on no tie, just a black suit jacket over the dark blue shirt, with a couple of buttons left open at the top.
Sam sighed and gestured at his brother. “And what if she wants fish? What if she hates red wine?”
Dean frowned. “Right. Okay. Pinot or merlot, got it.”
“Always ask to try it first,” Sam added. “Or here’s a thought. You could just be yourself. Order a beer and let her get whatever she wants.”
His frown deepening, Dean shook his head and left his bathroom. He crossed his bedroom to find his shoes—the nice black ones he only wore for weddings and funerals.
“Nah. This girl’s classy, Sam. Can’t half-ass this,” he said. A bit of unease coiled in his stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it.
He couldn’t remember the last time he got nervous to meet a girl…maybe because he hadn’t gone out on an actual “dinner and conversation” date in a while.
Or at least, he didn’t think he could count his dates as real ones.
“You’ll be fine,” Sam said. He could see plainly what his brother didn’t want to admit, only because they knew each other so well.
Dean glanced over at Sam and flickered at a smile. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and didn’t think he was missing anything…
“Dean,” Sam said. He nodded over at the bundle on the dresser. Dean reached for it and shot his brother a wink.
“Hold the fort, Sammy.”
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His car rumbled to a stop in front of your house just a few minutes late. Dean took a moment to admire the nice-looking beige house with its dark trim, old but still in good condition. And he wondered if you had roommates, or if you lived alone. Maybe you even owned this place. 
He wasn’t sure, as he could only see one car in the driveway (your car, he recognized). He knew he’d need about two or three other roommates to be able to afford this two-story house. 
He straightened his collar and blew out a breath. Get it together, asshole. You’re going on a date, not running into a burning building.
Funny, he’d probably be less nervous with the latter.
You’re not nervous, he reminded himself. You like her, that’s all…yeah.
Rolling his eyes at himself, Dean turned off the car and grabbed his key out of the ignition on his way out. He walked up the red brick path up to the porch and knocked on your door.
His pulse picked up a bit when he heard a pair of heels approaching the door. Soon enough, it opened, and Dean was greeted with a sight. Namely your face, and a smile spreading across it.
Beautiful, he couldn’t help but think, as his gaze dipped to take in the rest of you. He liked the color of your pretty green dress, the soft and classy makeup, the goddamn sexy heels, and the way your hair was pinned up. (Even though it looked so soft, he wanted to see it loose.)
He liked it all, especially that you seemed happy to see him.
“Hey there,” you said, a little breathy, like you’d been hastening down the stairs.
Dean gave you a smile, along with the small bouquet of flowers he’d been hiding behind his back.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His smile deepened when you uttered a gasp at the modest bundle of red tulips. “Feel like I should’a gone with something more impressive to match you. You look beautiful.”
You glanced up at him with a sweet smile, but you took the flowers and shook your head.
“No, these are gorgeous. I…can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers,” you admitted.
It was a bit old-fashioned, but one of Dean’s earliest memories as a kid was seeing his dad come home, late from work as he so often was. But he’d stopped along the way at his mom’s favorite flower shop. He brought her red tulips rather than red roses.
Dean didn’t know why. Maybe that was her favorite flower, or maybe the roses were all out. In his memory though, his mom’s upset faded whenever she saw those flowers.    
“Thank you,” you said warmly, taking Dean out of his thoughts. He flashed you a smile touched with slight embarrassment. He drew a hand through his short hair at the back of his head.
“Well, uh, are you ready?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yep! Just need to grab my purse and put these in some water.”
You welcomed him inside the house while he waited for you to find a vase. Dean took the opportunity to look around from where he stood in the hall. It looked big on the outside, but inside, it looked like a cozy family home. He took in the wood furniture, a paisley couch in the living room, family pictures on the wall and in a China cabinet rather than actual fine China.
It didn’t exactly scream high-powered saleswoman, but maybe you’d inherited it from your family. Or you were going to have it fixed up before you sold it, like some Property Brothers-type action. Or he was reading too much into it entirely, and should just focus on the fact that you’d agreed to go out with him to begin with.
Dean perked up when you returned with your purse on your shoulder and the tulips in a vase, which you set down on the living room coffee table for now. You greeted him again with smile.
“I’ll find a better place for those later, just didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you said.
“You’re good,” he said. He offered you his hand, along with a grin. “I hope you’re hungry though. I know how much you like dinner.”
You giggled, ducking your head in embarrassment. You followed him out the front door.
“If we can forget about that tipsy foot-in-mouth moment, that’d be great,” you said. Dean shook his head.
“Sorry, my mind’s like a steel trap,” he teased, even as he led you down the few steps of your porch in your heels.
“Oh, really?” Your brow raised. “Okay, I’ll remember you said that.”
Dean smirked. “Uh oh. Why do I feel like that one’s gonna bite me in the ass someday?”
“We’ll see,” you replied in amusement. “Future dinners might be on the line here.”
Your eyes widened when you finally saw his car parked behind yours in the driveway. Big and black and sleek and Chevrolet.
“Wow. That’s your car?”
Dean shot you a grin that was somehow proud without being smug.
“You like her?” he asked. He unlocked the car and even opened the passenger side door for you.
Wow again. A rare gentleman. You smiled and obliged him by climbing in.
“I think I do,” you said. Dean got in on his side after closing your door. The doors creaked and the engine rumbled when he turned the ignition. He looked over at you in a way that made your insides both flutter and melt. Anticipation and warmth.
“Think she likes you too,” he said.
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Shit, what did Sam say? Dean stared down the wine menu, which may as well have been a Chinese grocery list, for all he knew.
Red was what? What the hell is a Malbec? Sounds like a kind of fish. That can’t be red wine.
He discreetly raised his gaze above the menu. You were sitting there, pretty much perfect while you looked over the appetizer menu. This was an Italian restaurant. A nice one, and a cut above Dean’s usual dining spots. Neither of you had eaten here before, but you looked vastly more comfortable than he felt. 
“What sounds better to you, clams or bruschetta?” you asked. Your eyes flicked up to his thoughtfully. “You don’t strike me as a clammy kinda guy.”
A smile tugged at his lips. There was a “clam” joke in there somewhere, but he wasn’t sure you’d appreciate it.
“Bruschetta is the toast with little tomatoes, right?” he asked.
“Yep,” you nodded, but then your head tilted as you looked down at the menu again. “Or we could do meatballs. Comes with two—a ball each.”
You bit your lip over a smile, tinged with embarrassment, like you didn't realize what you were saying until you said it.
Dean smirked. Maybe your sense of humor was more in line with his than he expected.
“Well, I don’t typically go for balls, meaty or otherwise. But whatever you want, sweetheart,” he teased. Truth be told, he loved Italian meatballs, but right now, he liked your snort of amusement even more.   
By the time the server, Liam, came to the table, you seemed to know what you wanted, while Dean was still looking over the wine list like it was Calculus homework. 
“Would you like something to drink?” Liam asked.
Dean paused, unsure of how to respond. He glanced at you on reflex. You were waiting for him to say something, he knew. He just wasn’t sure what he could say that didn’t make him look like an idiot.
“I’ll have a glass of this Cabernet Sauvignon,” you replied to the server, and pointed out the name of the wine on the list. He nodded and wrote that down, then turned to Dean next.
“And for you, sir?” Liam asked.
Again, Dean had a conundrum.
He decided to play it safe. “I’ll have the same.”
You eyed him a moment, before you turned back to Liam.
“Can we try it first? See if we like it,” you said.
“Certainly,” he nodded. “Do you want to start with an appetizer?”
“Yes. The meatballs, please,” you replied, glancing at Dean with secret amusement. His lips hinted at a smirk.
When the server left to put in the order, you rested your elbows on the table and folded your hands under your chin.
“Something tells me you’re not big on wine,” you said.
Dean’s smile became more self-deprecating as he tapped a finger on the table.
“That obvious, huh? …Well, can’t say I didn’t try.”
“Dean Winchester.” Your head tilted as you considered him. “Are you trying to impress me?”
“Trying, maybe. Doubt I’m succeeding,” he admitted with a short laugh.
You let out a small sigh, but you didn’t look disappointed.
“I just want to get to know you,” you said. “You don’t have to woo me or anything.”
His brow rose in a subtle challenge. “What if you deserve a bit of wooing?”
You glanced down then, with a pretty blush beginning to warm your cheeks. He smiled at your demure.
“I get what you’re saying,” he inclined his head. “I just have a feeling the guys you go out with know how to order a bottle of wine, at least.”
You met his gaze at that. Your brows drew together, and it wasn’t until then that you realized what Dean seemed to be thinking. Like you were somehow better than him, or out of his league. While that was incredibly flattering (and downright surprising), it just wasn’t true, you felt.
You’d been nervous as hell up until this point, convinced that this man’s interest was half because he’d saved you. Because really, between the cut of that jaw, that smile, and those eyes, he could have anyone. And yet, he’d noticed you.
So now, you gained enough courage to reach across the table and rest your hand over his. It earned his attention.
“Look, Dean,” you said. “You don’t know anything about the kind of guys I go out with, so why don’t you just try to get to know me, instead of being whatever you think I want?”
There was a challenge in your eyes, but your smile softened it, along with your hand in his. Dean curled his fingers around your hand, and he nodded.
“That’s fair,” he said. His thumb drew across the back of your hand as he considered what you’d said. He realized he wasn’t being fair…
“See, women tend to like the firefighter thing, until they don’t,” he said. 
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Well, after a little while, it’s like the shine wears off,” Dean admitted. “Between the long, sometimes inconsistent hours, the weight of the job… It’s either too much, or not enough, you know?”
As much as that disheartened you to hear, you kind of understood what he was saying. First responders led challenging lives, and you could imagine how hard it would be to maintain relationships—from family and friends to lovers. And when he met your eyes, you had a feeling you knew what he was really saying underneath.
It’s not enough…or he’s not enough?
You frowned and squeezed his hand.
“That must make it hard to find a real connection with someone,” you said.
Dean read the look in your eyes: sympathetic, but not pitying. He appreciated that, and you right now. But he was also getting a bit embarrassed. Good job, Mr. Overshare.
He let go of your hand just to lean back in his seat and card his fingers through his hair. He blew out a breath.
“Sorry. Don’t know why I’m saying all this crap,” he said with a chuckle.
You smiled and crossed your arms on the table. “It’s not crap.”
He gave you a wry smile.
This Dean is not what I expected, you thought. He was all panty-dropping smiles and one-liners, until he wasn’t. Behold, the softie underneath.
Liam soon returned with two glasses with a sample of the wine you’d requested. Dean took his glass, but waited a moment to watch you bring yours up to your face. You inhaled first before you took an experimental sip. You smiled and hummed at the taste. It led Dean to sip his as well.
He immediately made a face at the bitter, strong taste that razed across his tastebuds. He was used to the burn of alcohol, but this was just gross.
That’s when he caught that look on your face—a small smile as you gauged his reaction.
“Refreshing,” Dean quipped. And dry as hell.
“You want a beer instead?” you asked.
“Definitely,” Dean nodded, looking up at Liam. “Heineken, if you please.”
“That I can do.” The other man quirked a smile. “And for you, miss?”
You tapped on the rim of your wine glass. “A glass of this please. Thank you.”
“Absolutely,” Liam replied. “I’ll bring those shortly.”
Dean watched you with a smile. You caught him at it and smiled back questioningly.
“What?” you asked.
He shook his head. “Nothin’.”
He liked the way you carried yourself. Smart and classy, without being a snob. Confident and sexy at times, while shy and freakin’ adorable at others…
Damn, Dean thought. He liked you. He did.
And he didn’t want to admit it, but that kind of scared him.
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AN: Hohoo, so believe it or not, this is just part 1 of the first date! The rest is to come in the next chapter. But how did you like this so far?
Next Time:
You watched him curiously as he shrugged out of his jacket. He wrapped it around your shoulders, like this was some kind of Hallmark moment.
Heh. Can’t believe Meg had it right, he thought, as he caught your blush.
“Thanks,” you said softly.
“Can’t let you catch cold in this little dress,” Dean reasoned.
He gently tugged you in closer by the ends of his jacket. Once again, his gaze was drawn to your face, your eyes, and finally your lips. You still held both ice cream cones between you two, but he could be careful enough to sample something else.
He started to lean in…
Keep Reading: PART 4
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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autisticlancemcclain · 10 months ago
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“This your place?” Keith asked, panting.
His host raised his eyebrow, pushing open the door.
“No,” he deadpanned, “this is my annoying neighbour’s house. He’s on holidays. I’m staying here and using all his things to take revenge for hours of small talk.”
“Oh,” Keith replied, impressed. “Cool.” He’ll have to do that next time Lance is on a solo mission. 
“No, I’m – I’m kidding, Paladin.”
“Oh,” Keith repeated, disappointed. “Less cool.”
“Just – get in the house.”
Keith didn’t argue. He followed his host into the small building, nodded as he was pointed to a guest room, and passed out the second his head hit the straw-stuffed pillow.
— — —
When Keith woke, it was dark outside. A scarred face was looming over his, and he bit back a scream, hand flying for his knife on reflex. 
“Peace, Paladin,” said Ares, holding up a hand. “I startled you. I did not mean to. It’s time for the feast. 
Keith slumped. His heart slowed from its jackrabbit pace. “Yeah. Yeah, man, thanks. I’ll be right out.”
His host nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Keith took one minute to calm himself, closing his eyes and counting his breaths. Once sixty seconds passed, he stood, glancing down at his armour. 
That was…fine, right?
They always wore their armour to diplomacy missions. Well, mostly because Keith threw a massive hissy fit the second Coran attempted to force him into the worst, most restrictive suit he’d ever seen. His armour was battered, unpolished, and honestly kind of rank, but it wasn’t like he had many other options. He held out his helmet, inspecting himself in the reflection of his visor.
Shiro would tell him to brush his hair.
Too bad he didn’t have a hairbrush. 
He walked out of his room, shrugging. His host was waiting for him by the small hearth in the middle of the house, standing as Keith approached. 
“Shall we make our leave?”
“Sure.”
He followed his host back out of the little house. They walk in silence. Keith’s feet begin to hurt by the five minute mark – he has no idea how long he slept, but it was not long enough, and exhaustion still pulled at his frame. 
Dryope had mentioned food, though. And something like a party, but one lucky thing about Ares – he doesn’t seem to be much of a partier, either, so hopefully Keith could ditch that bright and early and go right back to sleep. 
They walked along the same hills Keith’s host had led them down earlier, only this time they were going up, so it was worse. Thankfully, though, the walk was just barely shorter – they weren’t walking back to the beach, but to the hearth, the big fire pit Keith noticed walking in. All the houses they passed were empty, not even a light by the window.
“Is everyone at the – party, thing, whatever?” Keith panted.
Ares eyed him briefly, not pausing his stride. “Look for yourself.”
They crested the top of the hill, and Keith’s jaw dropped. 
The hearth was blazing. The flame burned so brightly and hugely that Keith was half-convinced it was out of control. Surrounding it in hundreds of chattering groups was every single Aegian, tall and wide and small, smiling and laughing. As he watched, an Aegian called something in a language Keith couldn’t understand, and immediately dozens of the tree-warriors rushed up to join hands in a big ring around the fire, twirling and dancing as the watching Aegians chanted and sang. 
Keith’s first thought was, Aren’t these guys made of wood?
His second thought was, This looks like a hippie commune. Time to ditch.
Unfortunately Ares caught him before he could go right back the way they can, spinning him around and shoving him down the hill.
“Real hospitable,” Keith grumbled.
His host seemed, as much as such a scary person could look, amused. “On you go, Paladin.”
Keith stomped on. He probably could take Ares in a fight, at least normally, but he was exhausted and injured and weak. Plus, if he was the reason behind yet another failed diplomatic mission, Lance would gleefully hold it over his head for weeks, and Shiro would be disappointed if Keith finally killed him. Plus, Allura would be upset with him, and having Allura upset with you kind of feels like taking a kitten that loves and trusts you and drop kicking it into the sun. Very quickly, you realise that you are the scum of the Earth and the worst person alive. It’s generally just something you should avoid.
As he trudged down the hill, he quickly recognised three familiar suits of armour. They were kind of hard to miss – even as scuffed as they were, they glinted in the light of the massive fire, shining like a bunch of precious stones. Pidge, sulking somewhere near a table of desserts; Hunk, chatting with his host; and Shiro, speaking with the Aegian leader like the tryhard little teacher’s pet he was. Coran stuck out, too, in his bright blue Altean uniform that was somehow pristine even though Keith watched him get flung at a wall and shocked by a bare wire from the broken control centre back on the dead castle. 
All the Aegians wore some kind of bedsheet, or their Tinkerbell clothes. Interestingly, the dryads were not the only Aegians present – there were others who looked a little more human, although they had plenty of strange features that reminded Keith they were not. A group of laughing girls looked like they were made from the bottom of a pool in the sunlight, skin shifting with dappled light. Several guys walked around with half a donkey hanging out of their drawers. Keith spotted some honest-to-God centaurs. One girl appeared to be made out of blowing, spinning wind. 
Hundreds of eyes seemed to follow Keith as he joined the crowd, glancing at him and then back at their friends, whispering to themselves. Keith shrunk into himself, letting his hair fall in front of his eyes – no one looked mad, or angry, or cruel, but no one looked exactly welcoming, either. Ares had disappeared at some point, not that he was what Keith would consider a friendly face. 
Keith needed to find someone he knew, stat. 
His first instinct was Pidge – the two of them usually slunked in some corner together whenever they were forced (often at gunpoint, thanks, Lance) to some stupid party. They had a running game called How Many People Can We Convince That Barking Is A Polite Human Greeting Before Shiro Finds Out. So far their score was 135-149, Pidge in the lead. (Keith very much intended to catch up.) But before he could make it over to where she was hiding, a group of water-girls descended upon her like a pack of piranhas, giggling and shouting something about braiding and eye makeup. Keith decided he would rather chew off his right hand than put himself anywhere near that, and did an abrupt 180 in search of Hunk.
Unfortunately, the big guy was still preoccupied. His host – Elijah (or something, Keith would be reminded of his real name eventually) – was showing him some kind of metal box that opened to a bunch of intricately placed gears and bobbles and wires. Hunk was staring at it like the Holy Grail. Not even Keith’s best pleading eyes and sad orphan story would convince him to babysit Keith and glare at anyone who attempted to socialise. Another dead end.
Keith sighed. That really only left –
“Hey, squirt!”
Keith went bright red, cringing with his whole entire body. He loved his brother, he really, truly did, but Shiro was as out of depth as he was at stuff like this and tended to overcompensate by being affectionate. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, except he had a bad case of Foot In Mouth Disease and knew Keith at his most embarrassing early teenage emo. 
So.
“Hey, Shiro,” he said stiffly, trying not to die inside as the man pressed a smacking kiss right in the centre of his forehead.
A tall, handsome guy somewhere to their left raised his eyebrows, smiling with amusement. Keith thought he could die. Sometimes, he thought his brother was secretly a forty-six year old suburban mom of three.
“We missed you!” cried his embarrassing brother. He was so genuine about it, it was hard not to smile back at him. “You took so long getting here!”
“My host’s place is at the farthest corner of the city,” Keith explained. “Had to hike here. Thought I was gonna bite it by mile six.”
Shiro snorted. “Drama queen.”
“Yeah, yeah. You try hiking after getting shaken around like a bobblehead. I bet your place is, like, twenty feet away from here.”
“Pretty much,” Shiro agreed, smile turning into more of a smirk. He attempted to dig his knuckles into Keith’s skull, but Keith was well used to his brand of crap and squirmed away at the last second. “Akeso’s sorta the main healer around here – at least I think? They’re not much of a talker – so they live in this building that’s attached to the infirmary. One of the big buildings in the inner circle.”
He pointed to one of the more rectangular buildings Keith had seen on the way in, with a much smaller, rounder building attached to it like one of those suction fish on a shark. It was hard to make out many details in the dark, fire’s light only able to stretch so far, but it looked pretty infirmary-ish.
“Hunk’s staying near the forges. He loves it, you should talk to him about it. He’s all cute and excited, you know that look he gets. Elatreus is impressed with him, practically made him an assistant.”
Elatreus! That’s the host’s name. And Keith absolutely knew what look Shiro’s talking about – the wide brown eyes, clasped hands, talking a mile a minute. He smiled softly. Nothing better for the soul like watching an ecstatic Hunk. 
“That’s good. Glad he’s happy.” 
“Yep. And Pidge is in a regular house like you, little more in-city. Next to some kind of trap shop? I don’t totally get it. Apparently Dysnomia needs a lot of supplies. Pidge was being all sketch about it.”
“That’s not super reassuring.”
“It is not!” Shiro agreed. He led Keith to one of the many tables laid out, absolutely covered in food. Keith realised he was ravenous, piling up a plate at least a foot high with meats and breads and foods he couldn’t even identify, but that smelt positively godly. At Shiro’s raised eyebrow, he rolled his eyes and selected a single vegetable. 
“Make sure you toss some in the fire,” Shiro advised.
Keith squinted at him. “I’m…not gonna do that, thanks.”
“No, no, you have to.”
He pointed to the edge of the fire, where, sure enough, some Aegians were scraping the edge of their plates into the flames.
Keith wrinkled his nose. “The hell are they burning their food for? What a waste!”
Shiro shrugged, stepping into the line. “Akeso said it’s an old tradition, something that their ancestors felt protected them and gave them good will and peace. No one really wants to mess with that mojo, so. Portion of the food is sacrificed.”
Keith would be less pressed about it if the food didn’t look and smell so good. Scraping perfectly good food into fire felt like spending hours polishing a sword only to scratch it three seconds later – effort for no reason. When it was their turn, though, Keith did as the custom dictated. He’d learned enough about questioning weird traditions. 
He held eye contact with Shiro and flicked his one vegetable into the flames. Delightfully, his brother’s eye twitched, like he was considering shoving Keith into them. Suddenly, this custom was Keith’s favourite he’d ever been forced to partake in. 
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By the time they finally sat somewhere to eat, Keith was so hungry he was ready to eat his fingers along with the food. He inhaled his food for a good five or six minutes, ignoring Shiro’s attempts first at conversation, then at slowing him down. 
“Christ, kid,” he said, voice tinged with either horror or awe. Maybe both. “Eating like I never fed you in your life.”
“You haven’t,” Keith replied around a rib of some kind. “Adam fed me. You made ash of everything you touched.”
Shiro’s expression soured. He poked sullenly at some kind of leaf. (Serves him right for trying to be some kinda health freak now that he’s in charge. Keith once watched him eat an entire Costco sheet cake at three in the morning, and that had been his first and only meal of the day. Keith enjoyed bringing it up every time Shiro preached about the benefits of salad and watching him just start screeching to drown Keith out. Good times.) 
“I didn’t turn everything to ash, you ungrateful brat. I made muffins that one time!”
You microwaved an already cooked muffin, Keith thought, wisely choosing to eat some kind of rice dish instead of bringing it up. And it tasted like erasers afterr. So.
“Sure, Shiro.”
Shiro nodded, satisfied. He picked up the leaf, sprinkled with some…orange thing, maybe, Keith couldn’t tell exactly, and took a delicate bite. He looked less satisfied.
“So,” he said, setting down his plate like he was looking for an excuse not to eat it. He looked at Keith expectantly. “You must want an update on Allura.”
Keith blinked. “Oh, shoot, yeah. I didn’t see her. She good?”
“Yeah, from what we can tell. When we got to the infirmary, Akeso stitched up my knee, then we –”
“You had a knee injury?” Keith interrupted. “You should have said something!”
Shiro smiled gently. “I got it treated, dork.” He bumped their shoulders together, trying to ease Keith’s upset expression. “I’m fine, okay? If Akeso didn’t bring it up, I would have. Promise. It wasn’t too bad, anyway, I swear.”
Keith frowned harder. He had noticed Shiro shifting slightly when they were first confronted by Dryope and her army, but Shiro had walked away without limping, so he’d allowed himself to stop worrying. A stupid mistake, and one he should know better than making. He knows his stupidly self-sacrificial brother. 
“Keith, seriously,” Shiro assured. He leaned down, unlatching his thigh and knee braces, then pulled back the rip in his undersuit. Keith wasn’t comforted by the size of the rip – nor the placement of it – but the wound didn’t look too bad, and was stitched neatly. Some kind of salve was spread all over it, under the clear wound dressing. As he watched, the wound seemed to contract, shrinking ever so slightly.
“Healing magic,” Shiro explained, putting his armour back. He patted Keith’s shoulder. “Akeso is super practiced at it. They stitched me up but warned that overdoing magic healing is as bad as cheating death, so it’ll still take a couple weeks to heal fully. Just won’t hurt so bad and might heal a little faster than with just stitches.”
“That why Allura is still out?” Keith clarified, finally letting go of the tension in his shoulders. Shiro looked relieved. “No speedy magic?”
Shiro nodded. “Exactly. After Akeso stitched me up we went to go visit Rhea, check on Allura. She’s tucked in this massive bed-nest thing, snoring away. She’s fine. Just super drained and needs all the rest she can. She’s in good hands.”
Relief punches out of Keith like a physical force. It’s one thing if his friends are injured, a whole other if they’re unconscious – but with Shiro’s assurance as well as Coran’s confidence earlier, he can relax. The two of them can read people like no one else on the ship – except maybe Lance. She’ll be fine.
“Speaking of Lance,” Keith said.
“No one brought up Lance except your own brain,” Shiro responded patiently. That infernal smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. 
Keith went red, barrelling right on. “Where is he? This stuff is right up his alley, I figured he’d be out twirling until he passes out in the punch or something.”
Shiro frowned, looking at him funny. “He is? He’s been over –”
Just then, the music that had been playing in the background changed – there was a collective inhale, then all the instruments played something at once. Keith didn’t know much about music, but the something felt intentional, deeply so. A song was beginning, rather than endless background music.
Excited murmuring moved in waves throughout the gathered Aegians. People started shifting. High above everything else, loud and excited, rang a disbelieving laugh – a very familiar laugh.
Keith whipped his head up, roll dropping from his hand and bouncing into the dirt. At the edge of the crowd, lit softly by the orange golden flames, was Lance – but it was no wonder Keith had missed him before. He wasn’t wearing his armour.
He was wearing a dress!
Well, not really a dress. One of those ancient Greek toga things, that looks like a droopy bedsheet. Keith had noticed it on several – almost all, in fact – of the Aegians; a draped, white garment, cinched in the waist, pinned at the shoulders. It hadn’t looked anything special on them. 
Lance, though, wore it like it had been made for him. Maybe it had. Most Aegians wore the toga-thing pinned at both shoulders, but Lance’s was only gathered at one, the rest of it falling artfully on his chest, looking dangerously like it was about to fall off. The cinched golden rope acting as a belt made his waist look downright tiny, like someone could pick him up around his middle and throw him, or something. It wasn’t crazy short, or anything, but Lance surely didn’t wear it down to his toes, like some others did. A pair of simple brown sandals wrapped all the way up his calves. 
There were actual freaking laurels in his hair, along with what Keith could only assume were gold threads, wrapped around a few tiny, careful braids. A golden bracelet wrapped around his bicep, contrasting with his many Earth-made bracelets and anklets, and his plastic blue Moana watch that he never took off. 
“He looks ridiculous!” Keith cried. 
Shiro tried poorly not to laugh. “I think he looks nice!”
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“He looks like a freaking Roman statue!”
The music started to swell, and Lance reached out to grab an offered hand, and suddenly Keith’s blood went cold. 
“What is he doing all over Lance,” he hissed.
Shiro raised his eyebrows. “His…host?” 
“Hosting immoral thoughts, maybe!” Keith protested. Shiro choked on his drink. “Look at his damn hand! Gripping Lance’s waist like there’s a magnet involved! What’s he want, to pick Lance up like a prize and show him around, or something? What a creep!”
But Lance wasn’t scowling, or even using his polite I-hate-you-and-can’t-wait-to-talk-crap-about-you-to-my-friends smile. He was just smiling, and concentrating hard on his feet, wrapping his own hands all over Mr. Creep. As the music got more complicated, they started dancing. 
“What’s your deal with Peithos?” Shiro questioned. “What’s he –”
Keith ignored him. “And they have some kinda dance prepared? He’s supposed to be helping Lance recover, not teaching him a dance! How long have we been here for?”
Shiro finally sighed, giving up on his questioning. He watched the dancing duo, although with significantly less (zero) animosity than Keith. 
“‘Bout ten hours? Give or take.”
“Ten ho – ten hours,” Keith said, stumbling over his words. He tore his eyes away and stared at his brother, alarmed. “We’ve been here ten whole hours? I thought it was, like, three!”
Shiro nodded, taking a long sip out of his cup. “Yep. Surprised the heck outta me, too. Went for a nap after checking on Allura, and boom, sun’s down, Akeso’s waking me up, and my leg hardly hurts anymore. Exhausted sleep is sleep, man, I feel you. Pidge, Hunk, and Coran knocked out, too. Only Lance stayed up. That’s why he’s not in armour. And why he knows this dance, apparently.” He nudged Keith’s shoulder, expression suddenly much more solemn. “You know how he is with sleep.”
Keith softened. He turned back to the blue paladin with a sigh, watching the half-Aegian twirl him around. The music got faster and faster and the man grabbed Lance around the waist and lifted him, twirling them both like it was easy as pie. Lance threw his head back and laughed, cheeks flushed and nose squinted like it does when he’s really laughing. 
“Yeah, I know. Still, though. I don’t trust that guy. Too friendly. And Lance is too comfortable.”
“That’s fair.” Shiro was staring at him, too. “I don’t really trust many people here, actually. I think Rhea is trustworthy. And Elatreus. The other people, I can’t say yet. But Dryope…”
He turned to glance at the leader, who watched the festivities over the rim of an ornate glass. She sat on a carved rock, her father next to her. The rock-seat to her right was left empty. Keith could guess who it was for. 
“There’s something they’re not telling us,” Keith finished, nodding. “Agreed.”
He turned back to look at Lance and Peithos. The song had ended, but they were still standing close to the fire, bent close. Lance was gesturing like crazy, smile lighting up his face. Peithos was intently watching his every move. 
“We’ll keep an eye on them,” Shiro promised. His smile was small and reassuring. Keith glanced at the half-Aegian, then back at his brother, nodding slowly. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I think we should.”
After the weird dance, the party started to die down. People slowly started to head out, first in singles, then in couples, then in large swathes. Pidge was one of the first to make her getaway. Keith looked around for his host, but couldn’t manage to land his eyes on him. He hoped he hadn’t already left – he had no clue how to get back to his guest room in the dark, and wasn’t super pumped about sleeping on the ground if it came to that. 
“You know where the house is?” Keith overheard Peithos murmur, so close to Lance there wasn’t a place they weren’t touching. 
Lance grinned up at him. “Yep! I’ll meet you there, don’t worry about me. Go do what you need to do.”
The half-Aegian smiled gratefully at him, then rushed off.
Some host, Keith thought bitterly.
His glare was apparently pretty pungent, because now that Lance’s distraction was gone, he looked over quickly. He brightened, jogging over.
“Keith! Hey! I haven’t seen you all night.”
“Yeah, wonder why,” muttered Keith sullenly.
“I hope you –” Lance frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” Keith repeated, mocking. He rolled his eyes. Unfortunately he still managed to notice the expression on Lance’s face – wounded, not mad. He faltered. 
That wasn’t how their arguments were supposed to go. “You know what it means,” he insisted, but it sounded unconfident even to his own ears.
“I really, really don’t. I looked for you earlier, I couldn’t find you when everyone else –”
“You looked?” Keith asked incredulously. “I couldn’t’ve pried your eyes away from Tall, Dark, and Handsome if I plucked them out of your head!”
Lance’s already-present flush exploded out of control, so bright Keith could see it even in the dying embers of the hearth. “I wasn’t – he’s not – you’re not – what are you talking about!” he finally managed, tripping over his words in a way he usually didn’t. “Peithos and I were just – were just – we were only dancing! He taught me the Spring Dance, earlier, when he was showing – showing – me the wildflower fields, and –”
Keith narrowed his eyes. He realised for the first time that Lance was swaying, slightly, and even as he talked himself out of his embarrassment, the red didn’t totally fade from his face, staying high on his cheeks. 
“– I don’t know what your problem is, I swear, every time I have fun you live to ruin it. Gods, can’t I even have – have – have one thing, I just –”
He kept tripping over his words, like his tongue wasn’t working with him. Keith frowned harder.
“Lance, are you – drunk?”
“What? No!”
That Lance said clearly. He whirled on Keith with a new layer of clarity in his eyes, dark like pits and absolutely flashing in fury. 
“You think,” he seethed, stepping forward, “that I am so freaking irresponsible, so absolutely stupid and idiotic, that I would get intoxi – intoxish – intoxicat –”
He couldn’t even say the words. Keith stared at him in alarm, because he raised a good point – Lance liked to pretend, but he really wasn’t irresponsible like that. Keith had never heard him swear. He went to bed at the same time every night. As far as he knew, he’d never actually touched a drop of alcohol in his life – it would be out of character for him to get wasted at a diplomatic mission, late at night, when they were separated and wary. 
Something was not right.
“Lance, I think you should maybe –”
“Gods, you ruin – you ruin everything.” Lance blinked, hard, then glared at Keith, shoving off the steadying hand Keith had placed on his elbow and stumbling backwards. He held his gaze for several moments, absolutely glowering, and then – to Keith’s great horror – his brown eyes watered. Tears built up faster than he could wipe them away, tracing a line down his cheek. Keith staggered backwards.
“I hate you sometimes,” he said, and ran off. 
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Keith watched him go, aftertaste of the delicious food turning sour in his mouth.
— — —
all art by @jiveyuncle!!
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leclerc-s · 10 months ago
Text
snow angel - track two
series masterlist // previous // next
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2 YEARS AGO
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i'll fucking fight him. i swear it.
no honey, you don't have to.
i saw this coming.
how on earth could you see this coming?
he was distant.
i've told him i loved him for days and he always responded me "me too" or worse he said nothing back
oh sweetie
how did you put up with that? you deserve so much better.
it's okay. i'm moving out of our apartment tonight. ryan said i can stay with him for a few weeks.
i love him lily. i don’t know when those feelings will go away. i hope they go away soon. i can’t keep loving someone who hurt me this bad.
i promise you i’ll fight him when i see him in bahrain next season.
i hope he dnfs
i hope you write a fucking day destroying album because of this. he will never know peace
oh lily, i'm going to ruin his fucking life with whatever i come with.
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lily muni he removed lando norris
lily muni he fuck that guy
charles leclerc i do not understand what happened? george russell you're telling me the chronically online guy doesn't know what just happened? alex albon the grid's #1 gossip girl doesn't know what happened? charles leclerc NO I DON'T KNOW THAT'S WHY I'M ASKING CONNARDS!
pierre gasly lando cheated on rhea
max verstappen i can crash into him in bahrain next season?
yuki tsunoda i will bite his ankles. lily muni he i'll poison his food yuki tsunoda we will not go that far. food is sacred.
esteban ocon does this mean that **** can finally **** ***?
lance stroll how about you shut the fuck up esteban? max verstappen what the fuck are you two going on about now? lance stroll ignore esteban. he's a bit delirious.
daniel ricciardo i promise to make his life miserable next year.
rhea reynolds i'm just pissed that he was too much of a coward to end our relationship before he went on to publicly cheat on me.
rhea reynolds at least try to not get caught.
charles leclerc what is it the kids say? he fumbled?
lance stroll please never use that phrase again
pierre gasly she's probably crying to taylor swift now
rhea reynolds LET ME BE PEAR GASLY! daniel ricciardo yeah, pierre let the girl be emotional! rhea reynolds if i'm crying to all too well that's nobody's business but mine
charles leclerc you can come to bahrain with me!
max verstappen or me! daniel ricciardo you're both thinking too small. show up with me. can't promise i'll have a good race or win but it'll show him!
rhea reynolds thanks guys but i'm not really up to going to races anytime soon.
lily muni he never let a man take anything from you. GO TO THE RACE!
rhea reynolds nah, not really up for it right now but i could change my mind in a few months. it's literally december!
charles leclerc i will save a spot for you regardless.
yukitsunoda it's okay, i can bite his ankles if he comes near you.
rhea reynolds i appreciate the sentiment yuki
rhea reynolds besides, i'll never date another fucking driver again.
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rheareynolds posted new stories
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nothing better than taylor swift to help with heartbreak who needs men when cats are much better company?
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liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, mickschumacher and others
rheareynolds home for the holidays update: i adopted a cat, i got cheated on (i should stick to dating women), and goats hate ryan. p.s. the first picture is what i sent to max when he made fun of me for getting cheated on.
tagged: vancityreynolds
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maxverstappen33 THAT’S NOT TRUE AND YOU KNOW IT!
↳ rheareynolds you told me and i quote, “that’s what you get for dating a guy who looks like a walking orange.”
↳ maxverstappen33 i called him ernie and then a walking orange. get it right.
lilymhe my offer still stands
↳ yukitsunoda0511 mine too! i can bite ankles!
↳ rheareynolds thanks guys but i'd rather not have to bail you out of jail for assault.
user01 so did they break up? or what? the chismosa in me needs to know
user02 it's okay rhea, he didn't deserve you
user03 fuck men, am i right?
comment liked by rheareynolds
vancityreynolds you're lying to everyone blake made those cinnamon rolls, not you.
↳ rheareynolds must you ruin everything?
↳ vancityreynolds it's my job as your older brother.
georgerussell63 why get an orange cat when he's a walking orange?
↳ alex_albon because rhea is the embodiment of an orange cat
↳ rheareynolds it's true. i've been told many times
user04 love to see that loser's friends are on her side. how are you going to publicly cheat on your girlfriend?
↳ user05 but did he cheat? what if they were broken up?
↳ user06 either you can't read (no offense) or you didn't read the caption, she literally says, "i got cheated on" they were very much together. stop trying to invalidate her pain because you love l*ndo
user07 it's okay baby, you can date me instead
↳ rheareynolds thanks for the offer babes but i should stick to being single for a while ❤️
↳ user07 i'm screaming!
user08 rhea's better than me fr. i would've destroyed his car carrie underwood style.
maxfretwell going to miss your cookies. that's the worst part about all of this
↳ rheareynolds yeah cause fuck my heartbreak right?
↳ maxfretwell that's not what i meant and you know it!
↳ rheareynolds can't wait to see the gossip pages say max fretwell says rhea reynolds' heartbreak is not validated
↳ maxfretwell i take it all back this is why he cheated on you
↳ rheareynolds TOO SOON FRETWELL!
↳ user09 curse n*rris for taking this duo away from us!
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taglist: @emilyval @ihateyougunthersteiner @lesliiieeeee @firetruckstuckley @cashtons-wife @landonorizzz @yoremins
strikethrough means i couldn't tag you
CLICK HERE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST
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¡leclerc-s speaks! i was listening to say don't go while write the first half of this. hence, the reference to the song.
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago
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Could you do a Lance blurb where reader and Genevieve are released to go home from the hospital and without reader knowing that Lance, the girls, Scotty and Chloe along with Lance and reader's parents have planned a surprise welcome party for the new member of the Stroll family
Cw: postpartum
"Do we have the cakes mummy likes?", Margot asked your mother as she set the cups on the coffee table, "she did ask for them in the hospital but the nurse said they were out of them by the time they got to her room".
"We do, grandpa got them from the pastry shop this morning", your mother smiled.
"Lance just texted me saying they're leaving the hospital now, so they'll be here in about twenty minutes, give or take", Lawrence said before he helped you father with the balloons, "they look so pretty!", Addalynn beamed, "Mummy is going to love it! Genevieve can't see much yet, can she?".
"No, princess - she can see big blurry things but they're not clear to her yet, with time she'll see just as well as you do, though", Claire-Anne assured, helping your mother bring the plates to the coffee table.
"We need to make the sofa comfy for mummy and Viv - yesterday mummy had to have pillows on her back because it was hurting on he tummy", Margot recalled, asking her older sister for help in bringing the fluffiest blankets and pillows from their bedrooms.
"Do you think that will be enough?", Addalynn wondered as Margot fluffed the blankets, "hopefully yes - and daddy also brought the other blanket for the baby so I think it's fine", Margot smiled.
The sight of your home after spending the night in hospital after giving birth to your babies was always a relief. Despite not having had any issues in hospital - and frankly, being a bit scared because you didn't have all the doctors and nurses around to help -, being home was bliss and you couldn't wait to fully embrace the newborn bubble at home.
Scotty and Chloe seemed to run a little late, getting their kids out of the car just as you got out of your own with Lance's help, "you didn't tell me we we're having visits", you noted.
Lance let out a small chuckle as he got Genevieves out of the car, "before you get scared or jumped on, my parents and your parents are inside with the girls and they organised a small afternoon tea like situation - it's just food and drinks, and they said that we just need to say the word if we need then to leave", he defended the whole situation, "Chloe is late as usual".
Scotty and Chloe stepped closer to you, their kids hugging your legs softly, "hi, auntie Y/N", they greeted.
"Since you're here, can you help with the hospital bags, please?", Lance requested as Scotty promptly got the bags from the cartrunk and headed up to the door.
"We bring guests and the guests of honour", Chloe announced as everyone got up to welcome you home, speaking softly as your babygirl was still asleep in the car seat.
"Oh, look at how sweet she looks", Lawrence cooed as they made way and room for you to sit on the sofa.
"Please, honey, sit down", your father encouraged, "you just gave birth to a baby and you should rest", he smiled, kissing your forehead, "I care about and love your girls tremendously, but you're still my babygirl", he whispered and winked.
"You didn't have to do this, but thank you for being here", you said as you arranged the pillows to accommodate you, letting Addalynn and Margot get cuddles from you, "we also have your favourite cakes, grandma Y/M/N has them in the plate there, and grandma Claire-Anne also made that pasta bake we really like, but she said that's for dinner", Margot offered gently.
Genevieve stirred on the carrier, bringing Lance to take her out and let her cuddle into his chest before needing to change her diaper. After you fed her, your babygirl was carefully passed around her family who had gathered to meet her.
"Are you feeling okay?", Lance asked once he got to sit down next to you, "I am", you held his hand on your lap and kissed his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder, "she's so loved", you cooed as you looked at the attention your youngest daughter was getting, the older kids busy in the playroom since they knew they couldn't be too loud in the living room.
"She is", Lance checked before grabbing some food for you, "I noticed you eyeing them up earlier", he nudged, offering it to your mouth, "delicious?", he giggled, kissing your cheek as you carried on eating.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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phantoms-lair · 4 months ago
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88 for the crossover roulette.
Okay, this one took me a while
~~~~ "You really are like a cockroach aren't you?"
Vlad whirled around. No human should be in this place! Especially not one he didn't know. And he didn't recognize the tall lanky man one bit, though it was hard to make out his face covered by a hood. "How did you get in my house?"
"There are many ways to get into places Plasmius." he snarled.
Well that was that then. Whoever he was, he couldn't live. He created a duplicate behind the man, ready to strike him unawares-
Only to scream as the duplicate popped and incredible pain lanced through his body.
"Like it?" The stranger sneered, showing off his belt. "Improved model of the specter deflector. Little bit of the Plasmius Maximus built in too. Good luck using your powers for the next several hours." he crouched before Vlad's prone form. "Now where were we? Oh right, you being a cockroach. You do the stupidest shit and then you escape consequences by lying. You lie to your business partners before you rob them blind. You lied to Valerie about everything about ghosts. You like to yourself about how nothings ever your fault and that Mom would ever like you. You lie to Dad about being his friend while trying to kill him."
"Daniel?" Vlad gasped. The man pulled back his hood revealing a familiar face made foreign by age. This Danial was clearly an adult, though not a healthy one, gaunt and wary. "But the specter deflector?"
"Let me tell you a story Vlad. It has a sad beginning. Hell, it's sad all around, but the beginning packs a wallop. It start with a freak explosions at a fast food place causing the deaths of Maddie, Jack, and Jasmine Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley. None of whom became ghosts after that. One survivor, who only survived because his half ghost body regenerated the damage, one Danial Fenton."
"Originally the next of kin to take him is was his Aunt Alicia, but since reconnecting with his 'best friend' Jack had wanted it changed to Vlad Masters. Maddie resisted at first, but after Vlad pretended to save Danny from Pariah Dark, again an incident he'd caused in the first place and again lying, she'd agreed."
"But Vlad wasn't as happy to have control of the boy as he once would have been. He'd blamed him for living when his mother hadn't. He wanted the boy to act grateful for even being in his presence when all the boy wanted was to have died with his loved ones. Needless to say it didn't work out. But did you give him to his Aunt? No. You decided you just needed a better version of him. You'd already been working at your cloning experiments, even if they weren't...built to last." He looked a tube containing a small girl sadly. "But you did the thing you did best besides lying. You got greedy."
"I was at your mercy. Obviously you could have harvest my DNA at your leisure and made a perfect clone, but you decided you wanted more. You decided to splice your own DNA in, so it would truly be 'your' son and that's where everything went wrong."
"You're the first halfa Vlad, but you know how first drafts are. Or maybe you don't, I doubt you ever did your own work. First drafts are messy and incomplete. And that's you as a halfa. Twenty years of experience, but Little Me was catching up to you in less that one. He was also good to go without any serious recovery time while you needed years of hospitalization and even then had flare ups. In terms of blending I was mayonnaise, kept stable and homogenous. You were oil and vinegar, constantly trying to separate. That's what the ecto acne was, you know. Not some skin condition like puberty gone wrong. It was your human body trying to purge itself of ghostly contaminants. Trying to reject Plasmius. And maybe you'd be healthier if you let it."
"But back to the point. You were an imperfect halfa. And you passed that along to the clones you made with your DNA. They failed even faster and you decided the solution was more power. You used me as a battery, draining my ectoplasm into your creation, damaging my body so much I can't create more. You essentially made me human again Vlad. But it still wasn't enough. And you decided it couldn't need much more, so you decided to transfer a bit of your own, only for your creation to take all of it."
"I guess credit where credit it due, you cured my death wish. I lived. I escaped and warned people. They didn't believe me of course. Thought I was mad with grief, especially Val. Until the attacks started. I don't know what the fuck you made with our combined DNA, but whatever it was it had both our memories and neither of our moral compasses, or at least any you pretend to have. It fed off death. And no one was ready for it. For a while I was imprisoned because it would pretend to be me and as such I was deemed a risk. But time helped that. I aged and it didn't. It's human form would always be 14 year old Danny Fenton while it's ghost form was a horrible amalgamation of us. It killed. It destroyed. Anything we did to keep it out it would eventually overpower. Until we decided to game the system."
"Time travel, Vlad. Remove the triggering incident. But not even Clockwork can change things all willy nilly. But what he did was seed things in the past to make the Observants of then panic and order him to fix it. Of course they did it by ordering my death, so Clocky had to work around that. Prove Little Me was worth the chance. Little Me ended up in my time and guess what you did Vlad? Can you guess? You lied again. Made up a whole sob story of how you were just trying to help me with my grief by surgically removing my ghost half and how my ghost half then attacked and stole yours and you'd spent all those years trying to fix it. And he believed you. He's burdened with guilt for a time that never happened and believes you're capable of changing and deserve a second chance. Your lies always work, don't they. But I know better. You can't lie to me, not anymore."
"But I'm not going to kill you Vlad, do you know why?"
"Because you're Daniel. I'm sure you're telling yourself something about how I'll suffer more alive, but the truth is you just can't bring yourself to do something like cold blooded killing." Vlad sneered.
"Wrong. You have no idea what I had to do to survive the hell you made." Danial smiled. "I just respect dibs."
"What? OW!" Vlad's body spasmed as something was forcefully injected into it. He looked up behind him and saw an older version of Valerie Grey, twirling a pressure injector, almost exactly like the ones he used to treat his symptoms when they reoccurred. (The scheming part of his brain realizing that would mean it wouldn't raise any alarms if marks from it were found on his body)
"A little compound based on one of the Fenton's projects. I strengthens ectoplasm and makes it stronger. It would be a real boost for past Danny or any other ghost. But for you? Well, your human form was barely holding it together with the ectoplasm you had."
Vlad whimpered, feeling the bubbling under his skin he recognized from his ectoacne only a hundred times worse.
"Goodbye Vlad." Valerie uncaringly stepped over his dying form and wrapped her arms around Danny, the two joining in a kiss.
"It worked." There was joy in Danny's voice for the first time in along time. "It really worked Val. The future, our loved ones, they're safe."
"They are." Valerie smiled down on him. "So we doing this?"
"Yeah. It's selfish, but I think we've both earned a little selfish." Danny pulled a USB and stuck it in Vlad's computer, Mikey's code rewriting several things. "There we go, edited to include another clone of me and one of you."
"How long are we going to have to be in those tube?" Val wrinkled her nose a little.
"Not long. The evidence we dropped off should get the investigation here in less than a day. Also I missed seeing you with long hair."
"It wasn't practical." Valerie grinned. "But Little You saw me with the buzzcut so I had to grow it back." Thankfully with all the wonders of the Infinite Realms, something to instantly grow hair was downright mundane and something Clockwork had been happy to maintain the timeline.
The story now was the story that had to be. If the Observants discovered they were manipulated they might undo their undo. But Vlad had to be handled and with the narrative the Observants had gotten they wouldn't do it themselves.
(Valerie had actually ranted about this, about how even in the lie Vlad had spun the Monster was half him, But the Observants had put all the blame on the mourning 14 year old. Typical.) The 'responsible' thing would be to let themselves fade from the timeline. Or barring that disappearing and starting new. But as Danny had said, they'd earned a bit of selfishness.
If they posed as clones of their past selves there was a chance their families would be contacted and taken in. It was a gamble. Maybe the authorities they'd contacted would destroy them or turn them over to the GiW. Maybe the Fentons or Damian Grey would see them as a violation of their children and reject them. But they'd take the gamble. It wasn't any worse than the one they'd just taken to save the future. And besides, their younger selves needed all thee help they could get
Sure Danny didn't have powers anymore, but he had the experience fighting his younger self had lacked. If everything worked out, not even Pariah Dark would have a chance against two Danny's working together.
~~~~
Future Danny, Valerie, and Clockwork: We'll seed these images to the Observants so they know all they have to do to save the future is prevent the explosion
Observants: Naturally there's only one way to fix this, KILL THE CHILD
Future Danny, Valerie, and Clockwork: *facepalm*
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studentinpursuitofclouds · 1 year ago
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How well do the sdv and sve bachelor/ette's flirt, and what styles of flirting do they have in your opinion? Hope you respond and enjoy writing your headcanon if you do :3
Hey hey, dear anon 👋 Thanks for your question! I enjoy writing headcanons and always glad to see you on my blog ☺️❤️
How well Stardew Valley/Stardew Valley Expanded bachelors/ettes flirt with the Farmer:
SDV bachelors:
Alex:
Flex. A lot of flex. Every time Farmer is around, Alex will lift heavy objects, thus showing off his muscles. Heavy? No, it's not hard for him to hold a huge crate at all! He repeatedly brags about his achievements in sports, but also doesn't forget to praise the Farmer for their hard work and looks. If Farmer gives the 'green light" for his flirting, Alex will move on to more classic things: small gifts, bouquets of flowers, walks on the beach, that sort of thing. Very nice of him, by the way. 6/10 - if he doesn’t praise himself often.
Sam:
In regards to flirting with someone, Sam gets a bit of a funny situation, which can be described by the phrase "Task failed successfully". Being inexperienced in love affairs, Sam often confuses words when he tries to flirt, or trips over an unfortunate rock in the road when he wants to approach Farmer. The young musician thinks to himself that his flirting is terrible and that he is clumsy. However, after much laughter, the Farmer thought Sammy was a very funny guy who would always make them laugh and they wanted to get to know him better. Task failed successfully! 5/10, although the flirting wasn't very good, it still worked!
Elliott:
If you think Elliott is going to seduce Farmer like in the book novels, you're absolutely right! But there is a little nuance. Yes, Elliott is a very well-mannered and sophisticated man, so his flirting, gifts and time spent will be the most romantic. However, a life of seclusion in a beach house has also made itself felt, and sometimes Elliott can forget that this is not a romance, but real life. So, let the Farmer get ready for small talk and nice walks in nature. Elliott will try to find an excuse to meet Farmer more often. 9/10, very good!
Sebastian:
Oh man, Sebastian's flirting.... is a bit of a mess. The young man was too shy and socially awkward to flirt with his object of affection in any way. He couldn't muster up the courage to show his past affection for Abigail, and it's more complicated than that. More often than not, and unknowingly, Sebby will smile and blush when talking to Farmer, avert his gaze, also more often invite them to his house to play board games or read comics. 3/10, sorry Seb, but that's not much of a flirt.
Harvey:
Yoba witnesses, Harvey tries his best, and, in principle, his flirting with Farmer turns out quite well. Not without flaws, of course, when he got a little nervous and confused, but quite acceptable and very romantic. The local doctor doesn't have much experience in love adventures, but he knows very well that the classics won't let him down if he wants to show his interest in the chaotic Farmer. 7/10, the key thing for Harvey is to keep his nerve (and not offer private medical check-up too often).
Shane:
Flirting is not Shane's thing. He has pretty low self-esteem and doesn't seem to care what most people think of him or what he looks like. Even if he gets the urge to try and start courting Farmer in some way, he stops himself most of the time. Unfortunately, Shane considers himself unworthy of their attention, like, who would want to socialise with someone like him. So the chicken lover will just throw dreamy glances at Farmer in the Saloon. Although, after a couple of beers, he does manage to flirt somehow (a bit vulgar, but still). 2/10, Farmer needs to make the first move themselves if they're interested in Shane.
SVE bachelors:
Lance:
No one knows whether it's a natural talent or whether Lance was taught a whole set of rules on how to flirt and behave in society, but this gallant man with a catty grin on his face is just a real master of flirting. Just like a noble knight in shining armour who came out of a chivalric novel. He knows perfectly well what levers to pull in order to gain the goodwill of the person he likes. Even if the Farmer doesn't mind flirting, but are an impregnable fortress, Lance is willing to spend a lot of time to conquer that fortress. 10/10, what a real romantic bastard.
Victor:
Behold - the smoothest man who can outdo even Elliott in his mastery of romance and very subtle flirting. Though a bit shy and introverted, Victor knows how to make the Farmer blush with a compliment (thanks to the many books on the subject in his personal library). Lots of walks, interesting and not too long conversations, dinner at the Saloon, or even sitting together at the game console. Victor chooses his complimentary words very carefully and watches the Farmer's reaction. If they don't feel uncomfortable, Victor continues. 8/10, this spaghetti man is full of surprises.
Magnus Rasmodius:
It had been a long time since Magnus had flirted with anyone, the last time he'd done so had been when he was younger... So it wasn't easy for him to remember everything he knew about love affairs, though even in his youth there had been only one affair, then marriage, then divorce, then.... Oh, well, that's just the way it is. Magnus is quite a romantic wizard, no doubt about it, but the hardest thing is to start flirting, especially if it's successful. It would help him to spend time together (a.k.a. magic lessons, thanks that Farmer has talent and is no stranger to Magnus). 4/10, c'mon Magnus, we believe in you.
SDV bachelorettes:
Leah:
Leah's main flirt is praise and shared pastime. Farmer very often becomes her muse for a future painting or sculpture, which, by the way, Leah then presents them. Collecting mushrooms and berries together, where the girl shares her experience in finding the best places with a lot of delicious gifts of the forest, she also repeatedly offers her help on the farm and praises their physical build. Leah is not shy about flirting, and if Farmer is single and doesn't feel uncomfortable during her flirting, the girl will continue until she achieves victory on the love front. 7/10, pretty good and confident flirting.
Penny:
Penny is a very sweet and kind girl, but she has zero ambition. She blushes too much and she almost always looks away or hides her face in a book if she sees Farmer, so it's an impossible task for a young teacher to approach her object of affection and start flirting. Her trouble is that Penny thinks she's a "grey mouse" who no one will pay much attention to, much less someone like Farmer. 0/10, I'm sorry Penny, but you have no flirting skills at all.
Maru:
Maru will look for any excuse to fix Farmer's broken appliances to get to know each other better. Broken recycling machine? Maru is already here, always ready to help them. In fact, she's always helped with repairs, but now her visits have become even more frequent. Mostly, the young inventor is a bit shy and rather timid when she tries to compliment the Farmer's appearance or clothes. She is sometimes afraid she might bore them with her chatter about her inventions. But if Farmer enjoys listening to a girl, she'll definitely talk all her ears off about science, and it will be much easier for her to flirt with them. 5/10, not too good but not too bad.
Haley:
Oh, Haley sure has a few tricks to get Farmer's attention on herself. After all, she was a star in high school and the centre of attention for many of her fans. Flirting is her thing. A subtle hint of wanting a relationship here, a successful praise there, a light conversation afterwards, a "chance" encounter here - it's a whole art for the blonde-haired girl. Also one of her best tactics is to be herself: to be nice, fun, and not to stay under the mask of a slightly spoilt and rude girl. Haley's tactics work, and Farmer has also started to take a liking to her. 8/10, there are a couple of flaws, but overall a quality flirt.
Abigail:
The amethyst lover's hints of flirting almost directly scream that she likes Farmer a lot. Recall at least her post 8 ❤️ event when she says that "Farmer must know what happened yesterday". But Abigail is going to start wooing them anyway, as she's not sure they've realized what happened yesterday after all. Constant compliments from Abby, also one of her main flirtations is her sketches of various fantasy characters, which she gives to Farmer. 6.5/10, not bad in principle but could be better.
Emily:
Honestly, I'm not sure Emily understands what flirting is at all. Well, she feels sympathy and a love interest for Farmer, but even when the two are officially a couple, Emily thanks them and refers to them as "good friend". "Friend", friendzone forever... Sure, she'll always compliment Farmer on their beautiful looks or their harmonious clothing choices, but it feels like she still refers to them as a friend. 1/10, I love you Emily, but you're not trying at all.
SVE bachelorettes:
Sophia:
Have pity on poor Sophia, she's having a hard enough time socialising as it is, and then there's the need to flirt! She has a very similar case as Penny, but unlike the red-haired girl, Sophia makes more attempts. Watching anime together, chatting about new manga, the latest from the video game world, etc... She also shares the most delicious snacks and sweets with Farmer, which is a big step considering how shy she is. This sort of thing comes across as just a friendly hangout, but Sophia tries to hint that she wants more than friendship. 4/10, she's really trying her best.
Olivia:
Need to say - Olivia is a bit of a contradiction in terms. This woman was a masterful flirt when she was younger if she really liked someone, and her skill hasn't faded over the years. The problem is simply that she's a widow, hasn't had a relationship since her husband's death, and feels that her flirting with someone (especially a younger person like Farmer) would constitute a betrayal to her late husband. If Olivia and Farmer work it out, the woman will quickly show the object of her affection what sophisticated and professional flirting is all about. 9/10, mommy- *ahem*, Olivia knows how to wow Farmer.
Claire:
Due to the fact that Claire is a rather quiet and shy girl (not as shy as Penny or Sophia) and her constant fatigue at work at JojaMart, flirting with Farmer is not easy for her. On the other hand, the young girl always feels a rush of energy when she sees her close friend (who has become her object of admiration). Claire doesn't have too many tricks in her flirting arsenal, but compliments and spending time together are assured. 5/10, not too bad, actually.
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fractalkiss · 5 months ago
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I wish you would write a fic where...
Lance isn't a driver, but Fernando is still his hero.
took me a while to figure something out for this in an angle that i would like to think about. but.. rule63! girl lancenando in the 2000's where lance isn't a driver but still dreams of racing (rated M under the cut):
She turns twenty-five on Monday really, but the cake is there anyway. Ribbon-piped vermillion and curled flowers around it with strings of pink icing on top that says Happy 25th. The decorative candle is in a similar loopy font, not the chunky kind. Chloe must have picked it out. Dad would have gone with the classic kids-party-cute, and Lance would have taken it in stride for the joke that it would have been from Dad had she still been sixteen.
Her birthday is on Monday, but it's the weekend, and people are here. Esteban is in his pink and navy team shirt after running from the motorhome to the restaurant they’re huddled in, slouched forward and clutching the backrest of the chair that Mick is sitting in. By the frosted glass windows, Alex is beaming an awkward but nonetheless shit-eating smile, her highlights still visible even in the backlight and Georgie’s there with her shoulders perfectly prim and poised while she’s stirring the straw of another (Alex’s) drink. They didn't have to show up, as quiet as this thing was meant to be while they’re at Monaco for the grand prix; there's appreciation there bubbling up in Lance anyway seeing Georgie trying to get day-drunk on an aperol spritz even when she could have made up a thousand and one excuses not to accept Lance's cordial invitation through an IM.
It goes like this: Count the number of girls who frequented a karting track at twelve and still see years later at an F1 grand prix and you’d hold up just one hand. Count the number of reasons you don't grow out of that, and it’s the same thing.
Somewhere over people’s heads, Lance’s mom is ushering someone closer. Through the glow of the candle flame in front of her, Lance sees a flash of Fernando’s squared, dimpled smile behind her mother before someone pats her gently to look back at the cake—"Come on, hon, make a wish," Dad says, and Lance will decide not to close her eyes. She wants this to be quick.
Fernando is helping her mother for the cutting, apparently. It’s how Lance looks up when Fernando holds out a plate of cake for her.
“You look a bit red,” Fernando comments, and Lance rolls her eyes. “Your mama says this is already small enough.”
“Wouldn’t have been a surprise if it wasn't,” Lance mutters through her strained smile.
"It is nice. Este is here, and your old boy the Schumacher."
"Oh whatever." Lance's own cheeks have only just stopped heating up. People are dispersing around them, going back to their own conversations, but it’s as if Lance can still feel them watching. She hears her father, chuckling along with other men as she takes the plate from Fernando to finally stick a forkful of ice cream cake in her mouth.
Fernando makes a soft noise beside her. “Seems your father will want to talk again,” she says, though she makes no move to get up, her legs stretched out in front of her like this is her small surprise party and not Lance's. The ends of her cargos brush the floor and the khaki grey looks pretty darn drab rather than understated, but Fernando pulls it off somehow.
“Ugh. I’ll say that we’re talking,” Lance offers pleasantly.
Fernando gives her a sideways look. “Are we?”
“We are,” Lance insists, and improvises, “The fundraiser’s doing well. And I asked, about new karts.”
Fernando barks out a silent laugh, more punch of air than anything but her eyes are warm. “We can do with more race kits also. We're fixing it up again, stronger barriers around the track, the tarmac is not so good, still.”
Lance hooks a strand of hair out of her face and huffs, “Well, that's new.”
Fernando’s laid on her liner a little stronger today, the softness of it creasing around her eyes as she grins. “See? Today should not be for this kind of talk, m'ija.”
"But I want to know," Lance says plainly, "Like, you know…Saturdays at the school, and the karters—" Whether the school was doing well, if there was any more help Lance and her father could give, whether Fernando's little niece went back to the track after skidding off and giving the scare of her mother's life.
The din of the restaurant isn't nearly loud enough for her to say it. Fernando is doing that thing with her hand where she's absently kneading circles into the arm of the chair with her thumb, a freshly healed patch of tanned skin there past the knuckle. Lance wants to ask when her next stint will be—as if she hasn't been watching every rally and Le Mans, each rare Formula One test session that Fernando gets to do, but as it goes—Lance still gets nervous around Fernando, for obvious reasons.
"Do you want to talk, later?" Fernando asks, like she's talking to something very small. The cloying sweetness from the cake sticks beneath Lance's tongue anyway, and her crossed legs feel tight and a little clenched in her seat. Fernando's perched herself almost still in her seat, her pants bunched a little over the crotch area; she moves her hand over Lance's bare knee, her calloused fingertips warm enough that Lance stops fiddling with the fine charm on her own bracelet.
"Later?" Fernando says again.
"Sure," Lance says.
*
When Fernando asked her whose picture from Autosport would Lance have cut out for safekeeping, Lance had smiled her sweetest and pretended like she wasn't kicking her feet at metaphorical pillows inside her in a sick squirm of panic and flattery over being asked. She'd told Fernando that she already owned a pristine vintage issue that contained a special on Sarah Fisher. It wasn't a lie—she did have the magazine, and Susie's issue too before her last name became Wolff, but as it goes, Lance gets nervous. The things she did to hide it only made her sound hollow and ruefully unimpressed, the kind of thing that used to hurt Mick's feelings a little bit years ago when they'd gone on dates. She's not proud of that. Esteban had to awkwardly offer tissues the first time she cried about it, frustrated at herself more than anything, really, a symptom of being clueless and seventeen.
She's in Fernando's hotel room now, and climbing onto the bed. The air-conditioning is turned on low, but there's a tingle down her spine anyway at the cool air hitting her skin. She's undressed down to her one of her nicest most comfortable lace sets. 
"It's for me," Lance mumbles, when Fernando comes out of the bathroom and gives her a once-over. 
"It's nice," Fernando just offers, and Lance feels herself huff. The muscles in her stomach tense for a second anyway, at the soft slight rasp of Fernando's voice. Anyone else would probably make Lance bored, would have made her automatically just, like switch on, to a performance.
Fernando's eyes are darker now as Lance tries to shimmy herself up farther and nudge at Fernando's leg with her foot to hurry up. "It's my birthday," Lance reminds her with a grin.
"And then another birthday on Monday, no?" Fernando counters. The lampshades here throw half her face in shadow, her jaw more pronounced while she's smiling a little. Her hand runs up the inside of Lance's thigh, finally. All Lance can notice now is how easily Fernando still moves in those baggy khaki pants, and how easy it'd be for her to be comfortable with it.
Lance brushes her foot over the inseam, and she feels it; Fernando was packing today. For how long, Lance doesn't know, but throughout the entire party earlier, for sure.
"Could you—" she starts, and moves forward to touch, but Fernando is already unbuttoning the pants, and getting out the silicone cock that slips out from the harness underwear, curved and a shade lighter than Fernando's skin. Lance wants to feel that brushing the back of her throat.
"That can wait," Fernando says, but Lance moves in, her mouth dry enough that saliva gathers fast, the fabric of her own panties starting to stick already with a wetness.
Last year, Lance had gotten down to eye the dark patch of Fernando's boxer briefs for the first time; Fernando had stroked through her hair to gently tilt her face back up. Lance hadn't collected a physical copy of the tiny piece that Fernando was in as featured Girl of the Year in motorsport; to do that, would have felt cheapened, somehow. Fernando is her own person—her stocky hands, solid and real and cupping the back of Lance's head back then and pulling her hair while she'd laughed, fine, princesa, fine, the sound rumbling against Lance's fingertips on Fernando's rib. Lance put herself to work for licking the wet folds of her cunt in a way that she hadn't ever for a blowjob with a boy.
"I want to," Lance tells her, and Fernando props up her face this time, fingers under her chin; she leans down swiftly for a kiss, quick and sweet.
"Then you'll lay back after, and I'll eat you out, and fuck you for as long as I want," Fernando promises, thumb rubbing Lance's pulse along her jaw, and Lance lets her eyes flutter close. ---
from the ask game: send me a summary of what you wish i'd write
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Inspired by @mdoodlerfandomart 's Coalition Lance AU.
~~~
The Voltron team was in a somber mood as they made their way back to Earth. Pidge a bit less so, because she was so looking forward to seeing her mom and dad, but even that only served to remind her that one of their own wouldn't be coming home to his family. The Voltron team had a Lance shapped hole in their ranks and everyone was feeling his absence.
Coran missed the incesant chatter from the coms which Lance had usually initiated, and Allura missed their gossip beauty sessions. Shiro had an immense amount of guilt over Lance's capture, despite technically not having been there when it happened. He contantly wondered if his clone had somehow set Lance up in an ambush, and hated that his memories of that time were disjointed and blurry at best.
Pidge busied herself by radioing every ship and planet within distance to ask if they had seen a man, tall, brown skin and blue eyed, but everyone she could get in contact with said no. (On the plus side of this process, though, they did discover that the Coalition seemed to be in good hands, so that was a relief, at least.)
Hunk kept a small notebook where he drafter hundreds, if not thousands, of ways in which he might have to break the news to Lance's family that their son, brother, cousin, uncle, etc., was MIA, likely presumed dead. None of them were completed because Hunk inevitably broke down in tears every time before he could finish any of them.
And Keith... well, Keith kept holding onto hope that Lance was alive, somewhere in the wide universe. He simply refused to believe that Lance was dead. The team kept telling him he was in denial, but it was the only thing that kept him going. Otherwise he didn't think he'd be able to function. He often played with one of Lance's necklaces that Keith now wore and wondered about his whereabouts.
If he was in a good mood, Lance had escaped to a planet of peaceful aliens and awaited rescue. It was his greatest, most indulgent daydream that they defeated the Galra once and for all and Keith led a rescue mission to find Lance, found him and brought him home. However, if he was in a bad mood, he tended to imagine progressively worse case scenarios that left him on the verge of a panic attack and spiralling. It was the uncertainity that got to him and wore him down.
As the Earth finally appeared in front of them, Red and Blue picked up speed and went ahead of the rest to spearhead the formation. It was a bit unusual, but the Paladins didn't have the energy to question it. There were a lot of mixed emotions in the group and they were absolutely exhausted in every way that mattered. The comms were quiet. Each Paladin was lost in their thoughts, and their missing Paladin weighed heavily in their minds.
Suddenly, as they entered the Earth's athmosphere, the comms began to crackle.
"Earth to Voltron, do you copy?"
Every single one of the Paladins startled in their seat and their eyes widened in disbelief. They turned on their comms and cameras. They all looked at each other as if they had seen a ghost. Hunk was the first to break the silence.
"Was that...?"
"Earth to Voltron, do you copy?" the voice repeated and this time Keith yanked the radio out of its base as his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.
"Lance?! Voltron to Earth, we copy. Lance, is that you?!" Keith yells into the receiver.
"Keith?! Oh my gosh, you're alive!" Lance exclaimed on the other side.
"What do you mean I'm alive? You're alive!" Keith retorted and he couldn't help the smile on his face or the tears in his eyes.
Just then they received a notification of an incoming live transmission that Pidge immediately accepted. A new screen popped up in front of them and there he was, alive and breathing, the one and only, Lance McClain.
On the screen, he laughed incredulously as he wiped at his eyes and said, "Hey guys, it's been a while."
What followed was chaos: everyone began talking at the same time, raising their voices to be heard above the others, and asked all sorts of questions wanting to know how Lance ended up on Earth, how he escaped the Galra, was he okay, he he seen their families, were they okay and the cockpit descended into pandemonium as Lance valiantly attempted to answer all of them.
Keith, however, was quietly taking in and just looking at his boyfriend after years of holoscreens and memories. Lance was no longer a lanky, awkward teen. He'd filled out: his shoulders broadened and, while still thin, he seemed to have gained a lot of muscle. His face had sharpened and Keith could see a bit of stubble on his chin and cheeks. He had a few new scars, too. He was also wearing a Garrison unifform, with a few medals in it.
"Keith?" Lance asked, and Keith realized he'd just missed most of the conversation. Keith smiled.
"Hey, sharpshooter," he replied. Lance sent him a flirty smirk in return.
"What? Did you miss me?"
"You have no idea," Keith answered and didn't care if he was being sappy in front of the Paladins and however many people were in the command center. Lance chucked wetly and his gaze softened.
"We're ready for you to land. Unfortunately, our hangars aren't anywhere near large enough for the lions, but there's an open field right outside. Crew members will be waiting for you in their vehicles to bring you to base. There are some people here who can't wait to see you guys!"
Keith raised an eyebrow. Lance looked, and sounded, so mature... so professional. It was hard to believe he was the same goofball he fell in love with.
"How come you're at the helm?" he asked. Lance smirked, but it was Pidge who answered.
"If you hadn't been so busy making oogly eyes at him, you would have heard that he's the head of the coalition. You know, the one we've hearing about," she snarked with a shit-eating grin on her face.
"Wait, for real?!" Keith exclaimed.
Lance gasped and grabbed his chest in a wounded gesture, "You heathen! Can you sound a little less surprised? Do you really have so little faith in me? You wound me!"
Someone out of shot of camera in the command center said something to Lance that the Paladins didn't manage to catch. Lance's reaction, though, was telling enough. He scoffed in mock offense and replied, "You take that back!"
Keith laughed. It was nice to see his Lance in this new, grown version of him. He asked, "How did that even happen?"
Lance scoffed again and rolled his eyes, "Again, it's a very long story and I don't want to clutter the frequency. You're welcome to come for dinner at mine's and I'll tell you all about it." Lance winked.
"Fine," Keith relented.
"Transmission over," Lance said and his screen disappeared. Only then did Keith pay attention to the looks of awe and joy in the rest of the Paladins. Hunk was even openly crying and babbling about how glad he was that Lance was okay. Keith felt the same.
It was as if a stone had been lifted off of his chest and now he could breathe! Liquid fire poured through his veins and, for the first time in a long while, he felt like he could battle a hundred cruiseships and win! Red purred in his mind, and Keith was transported back to the very first time he flew red, before the war and their losses had worn down his excitment and passion for flying a sentinent lion in space. He smirked.
"Race you," he said, and sped down towards the Earth at full speed. Red happily obliged.
"You cheat!" Pidge yelled and gave chess.
Hunk followed with an indignant, "Hey!"
Allura, Shiro and Coran laughed joyously and tried to catch up.
Keith didn't care all that much, to be honest. He had a very pressing reunion to get to, after all.
~~~
I hope you liked it! It's just a scene, and it doesn't encompass a lot of events but I wanted to focus on the characters. I'd like to explore other scenes, perhaps later, from Lance's POV on Earth or maybe Keith's POV when he first finds out Lance is missing until they exit the time dilation worm hole thingy.
Let me know what you think!✌🏼
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msn-04iinightingale · 7 months ago
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HAWK Battery
Bell watched the Barghest Company techs and ground grew unload the cargo the Wild Hunt had brought with it. Carts of spares, ammo, food, medical supplies, everything an army engaging in a protracted planetary invasion could use.
Additionally, the mech techs were busing themselves with loading and checking weapons on the 12 mechs that had been brought with. Currently, the chief tech was ripping one of the SLDF temps a new one, over how to properly calibrate one of the PPCs on the King Crab. She listened hard, tuning out the other noise of the makeshift staging area.
"-oh my god were you trained in a barn?! If you set it to that you'll wear out the capacitor and I'll have to recalibrate it all over again these are works of art and you're getting your grubby fingerprints all over the cowling and if you get oil in those connection ports I'm gonna take this wrench and-"
Bell shakes her head a bit and allows herself a small, small smile.
She turns her attention to Owen's...well...her Mechwarriors for the moment.
The other members of the three lances were assisting in unloading the dropship (Roberta and Ann, who are just kinda moving crates and boxes of munitions that would require at least a forklift to move on their own), helping organize the equipment (John, Sin, John being his usual analitical if boring self and SIn being helpful as ever), vibrating when she's not running back and forth (Flora), Spending a quiet moment together (Delila and Pam, sitting squished together side by side under Delila's Nightstar), talking about meat (Clara, she seems to be talking to the large cleaver she is polishing on a box, more knives than one person would feel is healthy to own set out around her), glaring daggers at anyone who comes near her (Bridget), smoking (Carrie, in the shadow of her Kontio), or complaining about the cold....and smoking (Amaryllis, next to Carrie as they are smoking buddies, he is draped in a far too large SLDF severe weather coat, although where he got it, and what he had to do to get it, remain blissfully unknown to her).
She allows herself a small nod, as all things are as they should be, and nothing out of place. Owen always said she was one for detail, and admittedly, gently teased her from time to time.
Sigh, that man....I hope he's alright.
She had made inquiries regarding the status of her commander, but the situation over in Utah was above her clearance level. Or at least that's what the SLDF toadie she's spoken to...five times...had told her.
She sighs, and pulls up her pad to check the schedule, and to ensure everything is going according to plan. For the third time.
( for anyone who wants to chat with the new girls )
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verystrxxwberry · 8 months ago
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ELDARYA; "Could you hug me?"
♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Basically asking for a hug from the routes! Comfort and fluff mainly. ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: This was a request from the blog I used to have time ago and I found it absolutely adorable! So I decided I will rewrite it. If everything goes well, the ML & MCL version will be posted on sunday or monday! Enjoy the reading <3.
♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.
❖ LEIFTAN ;;  would be a little surprised, you can even see his cheeks red with embarrassment, but it wouldn't take him long to wrap his arms around you, one hand in your hair to provide gentle caresses and the other on your back for support. He is delicate with his touches, plus his scent of berries is soothing enough to make you forget your troubles for a moment. He would rest his head on your shoulder, appreciating your presence without being able to avoid the smile. Depending on how he has seen your face, he would maintain silence, but if he sees that it is opportune he would say "Do you want to talk?".
  ❖ LANCE ;; looks clearly confused, raising an eyebrow at this. He grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer to his body, at first a little uncomfortable, but the moment he feels your arms around his torso, he feels some warmth in his chest. Maybe he even feels a burn in his cheeks. Anyway, he doesn't complain, he just keeps silent and caresses your back from time to time in a comforting way. Once you separate he would still be a little confused, but grateful because even he needed that hug. 
❖ VALKYON ;; "Oh, sure" No doubt your act will have made his day better, welcoming you into his arms in a bear hug that would take you a while to separate from. Valkyon is fascinated by hugs even though he's embarrassed to ask or initiate them, but when given the opportunity, he doesn't hesitate for a second. He loves the feeling of being able to feel how he protects you, how he shows you his love. The feeling of his hugs is unique and irreplaceable, it is warm, like an angel is welcoming you in the best way to heaven. If the hug lasts long, he would plant a small kiss on your forehead before separating, and ask if everything is ok. He is such a sweethear <3.
❖ EZAREL ;; will find it tempting whether to tease you or reciprocate your request, so he would first refuse to see your reaction, but immediately laugh and hug you tightly. Just because it's you. Usually Ezarel's hugs are very uncomfortable, but considering it's you, he wouldn't mind at all. He would squeeze you to the point of leaving you breathless, to which you would try to pull away and he would mockingly say "didn't you want a hug? Then have it until I get tired". But he only does it to tease you, stroking your back and resting his chin on your head protectively. Even if he doesn't know how to show it, he loves you. Very much. 
❖  MATHIEU ;; If he were a puppy you could see how he wouldn't stop wagging his tail in excitement. He would turn to you with open arms and a big smile, inviting you into one of his big hugs. He loves hugs, and whenever he gets into one, he always seeks the comfort and warmth of the other person, enjoying those seconds with the other person. His arms don't exert much force but you can't get free easily either. No doubt, after a tiring day, a hug from Mathieu is the best thing you can ask for. From time to time his teasing streak would come into action and he would start tickling you or carry you a little bit in his arms and spin you around.
❖ NEVRA ;; you've never seen such a smug smile from him. He'd cross his arms and look at you with amusement, wanting you to beg for his embrace. Either way, whether you do or not, he would. He can't resist you. Nevra's hugs are a strange feeling, not quite warm but very comfortable. Maybe he tickles or squeezes you, but only to tease you. If he sees that it's been a hard day for you, he'll rock from side to side to cheer you up a bit while giving you words of support, asking how you're doing and if he can do anything to help. Whenever you are sad, he definitely wants to distract you from the negative thoughts. He would start humming a song or ranting about his random thoughts to keep you busy, and even offer stuff to do to cheer you up. Usually just before you break away from the hug, he will spank you (with your consent and if the timing is right, ofc).
✰; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it!
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planetary-gus · 1 month ago
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Traitors to Saporia Pay with Their Lives
Full fanfic on Ao3: here
Fandom: Varian and the 7 Kingdoms
Prompt: Stabbing
Varian tugged at his collar.
He hates these stupid royal parties.
Usually, Rapunzel is nice and lets him skip, but he couldn't get out of this one this time.
At least he had Hugo.
Nuru was visiting for this one too. She was being oddly tolerant of Hugo tonight.
That was odd.
Hugo had his hair actually pulled back properly from his face tonight. Rapunzel had insisted on helping him with it tonight.
That was also odd.
Varian observed the room from his place in the corner. There were groups of people talking throughout the throne room.
Hugo was talking to Rapunzel and Eugene.
He wondered what they were talking about.
Hugo looked anxious, Eugene was wearing his typical face of nonchalance, but there was a small smile peeking through, and Rapunzel was smiling at him.
Cassandra, with her resting bitch face as always, was talking to Lance, Catalina, and Kiera. The girls looked just as uncomfortable as Varian and stuck close to each other and their smiling adopted father.
Nuru approached him and offered him a glass of champagne. "Not a party fan, huh?"
He took the glass and shook his head.
"Me neither. I only came to this one cause Hugo asked me to. Otherwise, I wouldn't have dealt with the time it took to get here, on top of the party itself."
"Aww are you finally becoming actual friends with him." He teased and started walking away from the corner with her.
Nuru rolled her eyes and elbowed him.
Varian feigned hurt by her actions and she let out a soft giggle into her hand.
They approached Hugo, Rapunzel, and Eugene.
"Well if it isn't our famous little recluse. Finally decided to join us?" Eugene teased, gently hitting him in the side.
"Oh, ha ha. You know this isn't my scene." Varian retorted, keeping close to Hugo.
"Me neither. But I have to come to all of these as Queen." Rapunzel groaned.
"Aw, there there you two, they always end soon enough." Eugene comforted sarcastically, wrapping a hand over his wife's shoulder. She leaned into the touch and smiled.
"I'm getting another drink." Nuru walked away with her empty cup, leaving the 2 couples.
Hugo wrapped an arm around Varian's waist and leaned his head on top of his. It's safe to say Hugo still wasn't used to working or living at the castle yet. Varian exhaled softly remembering how awkward he was the first few days.
But that had been over a year ago.
Hugo had just turned 22 and he was turning 21 soon.
"So, Nuru said she only came 'cause you asked her?" Varian asked as Rapunzel and Eugene walked away to go talk to some Duke.
"Yeah? Is there a particular reason you're bringing that up?"
"Just wondering why? You two were never really close, but it's nice that you're actually getting along for once. Your hair looks nice by the way. Rapunzel did a good job"
Hugo blushed a bit at the final comment on his hair. That had always been his weak spot when it came to compliments and Varian loved it so much. Watching a thin tinge of pink paint his face when someone made a comment on his hair had always been amusing to the freckled alchemist.
"You're adorable." Varian sighed and leaned more into his side. There were times Hugo being so much taller than him pissed him off, but in situations like this where it just let him hide, he loved it.
Someone brushed past them from behind and Hugo stiffened a bit at the contact but that's not what Varian was focused on. He was focused on a sudden sharp pain in his side between his ribs, and the feeling of wetness slowly spreading.
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aquarius-cookie-jar · 4 months ago
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I have not written any fanfics for so long, this was just a small warm up drabble.
--
He never thought he’d ever get the chance to raise a child again, not since his son’s banishment, and even more so ever since he realized how terrible he had treated him in the past. He swore an oath to protect those young ones, but to ever have any under his care again is a much more complicated idea to grasp. At least, that’s what he thought…
Earlier, during the meeting they had with the council, he introduced the twin dragons to the others. As expected, they immediately got into an argument with the greenish-red dragon Hollyberry managed to ally with, and attempted to fight them. He himself had sparred with the dragon a few times, how they’d annoy him with their arrogant and brash nature. He and Hollyberry had to immediately cease further hostility between the reptilian beasts, lest the Vanilla Kingdom have its property destroyed… again…
After the meeting, the twins went on a ramble about how they could’ve taken Pitaya Dragon in a fight, and all the other things that immediately passed through his head. Tired of their antics, he encouraged them to have a look around the kingdom, just to make sure to not get into any trouble, and they immediately ceased their ranting, flying off to who knows where. 
Not long after, Pitaya themselves came up to him, demanding they spar with the dragons, attempting to belittle him at the same time, also (not so subtly) hinting they want to brawl with him as well. Dark Cacao had long since tuned them out, not wanting to entertain them the same way Hollyberry does. But then they mentioned something that piqued his intrigue.
“Don’t be sssso arrogant, cookie. Thossse excussses of dragonsss only call you ‘massster’ becaussse they’re only ssso young. You won’t be hearing them call you that in a few hundred yearsss! You’ll sssee!” 
It was that sentence that made Dark Cacao finally turn to the red dragon. 
“Huh?” He raised a brow. “What do you mean by that?” A sigh of annoyance escaped his lips when he saw them grin, seeing as how they finally captured his attention. But he had to know more.
“Oh? Can’t you tell? They’re ssstill only youngssstersss who know no better.” Pitaya claimed.
“And yet they can transform into beings that stretch across mountain ranges.” He recalled the first time he encountered them. How their roars shook the ground, and each strike against the other caused shockwaves through the mountains. It was as if the gods themselves fought for territory of the earth.
His reply only caused the red dragon to shrug. 
“They probably absssorbed too much power asss sssmall drakesss.” 
Ah. He remembers the tale of Stormbringer, how she split the black and white dragon into two and banished them to the furthest corners of the land. But he also remembers how the dragon just hatched out from its egg, and immediately devoured the world in pursuit of power.
He turned back to Pitaya, arms crossed as he asked, “How old do you think they are?” A small ‘tsk’ escaped the dragon’s lips, he could tell they’re growing a bit impatient. 
“Hell if I know. But from what I could tell, lesss than five hundred or something.”
“And how old do dragons get until they’re considered fully mature?” 
There was a small pause. Pitaya scratched their chin, pondering their answer.
“At least a thousand years old.”
He knew he shouldn’t be surprised, but he couldn’t help but feel his eyes widen. It’s been over a thousand years since he defeated the dragons and founded his kingdom. And yet, according to Pitaya Dragon, they’re still only so young. Had they not aged while trapped in his sword? It made sense maybe, they laid dormant within his weapon unable to do anything for so long. But the thought that he may have robbed them of the opportunity to grow. Something about that just—
Pitaya huffed, a small amount of smoke escaping their nostrils. They had enough of the questions, and pointed their lance towards him. 
“Enough with the chit chat, I demand a battle, right now!” 
Just as they spoke, the twin dragons returned, snarling as they immediately flew to their master’s side, as if to defend him. Dark Cacao sighed, and decided to get things over with and spar with them. 
Hours had passed, nobody emerged as the victor as Hollyberry interrupted their battle and immediately ended things as soon as she arrived. 
The twin dragons, tired from the fight, immediately curled up on Dark Cacao’s sleeping mat, leaving no space for him, but not that he minds. He sat down on the floor next to them, a hand reaching out to stroke the black dragon’s head. 
It was strange. Upon learning how young they really are, it’s as if a new, yet familiar, sense of protectiveness grew in his chest. He knows that the dragons are more than capable of fighting and defending themselves, he saw the damage they had caused to the land a thousand years ago, but he couldn’t help but feel responsible for them. 
Was this his parental instinct? Or was this him wanting to right his mistakes he made when he failed to properly care for his son? 
He sighed, shaking his head as if to free him from those thoughts. Nevermind that for now. He’ll work on these feelings another time.
“You’ve done well today… Rest now, young ones. I promise to protect you…”
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shelbgrey · 1 year ago
Note
Okay so two things/ideas
1. Sweets smut if you are up for it, the NSFW headcanons made me feel things okay. It was exactly what I was thinking too. Bit you don't have to if you don't want to.
2. Reading uou adorable piece of the squinterns babysitting made me think about what a pregnancy with Sweets as your partner/husband/boyfriend would be like. It doesn't necessarily need to be connected to the babysitting one shot you made, it was just a cute idea.
As always, have a great day and I hope this finds you well!
Caught in the act(Lance Sweets)
Paring: Lance Sweets x Hodgins!Reader
Summary: Booth calls you up to take care of your boyfriend after he got roughed up after an undercover thing. As your cleaning him up one thing leads to another.
Warrings: Smut! Female receiving, Sorta public sex (your in a closed office) desk sex. Lance has a couple of injuries(that's a warning in it's self, I'll fight anyone who hurts my boy). This is my first time writing smut, sorry if it sucks. Kinda edited.
A/n: sorry for the wait, I was battling on what plot to use. I'll be happy to do the other one too, but in till then here's the first one. This is my first time writing a full smut imagine instead of just headcanons so bear with me folks😂
MasterList
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Lance was supposed to be at the jeffersonian an hour ago. I placed the skull back on the table and checked my watch, Temperance, the wife of my best friend looked at me confused. “what's the problem little Hodgins?” she asked as I looked at the time with concern.
I shrugged going back to work, Temperance wasn't having it though. “no, something is clearly bothering you, if you let it bother you for to long you might become distressed” she said.
“Lance was supposed to be by an hour ago so we could get dinner” I said, resuming the examination on the remains. it was normal for Lance to be late, especially if he was interrogating someone with Booth or he had a patient, but not this late. anxiety began swarm me as I woried for him.
The silence was cut short when my phone rang, hoping it was Lance I quickly awnsered it without looking.
“sweetheart?” I quickly asked, I was unfortunately wrong... Man I need to learn how to read caller ID.
“no, it's me Buddy” Seeley's voice said nervously. I set the humorous I was examining down and gave Seeley my undeviated attention.
“h-hey, how was the investigation... Where's Lance?” I asked walking out of the bone room.
There was a pause which made my heart pound. My conversation with Lance early this morning re-played in my head dozens of times, the last time we talked was early this morning and it was about the undercover case he'd be doing.
Simple case he said...
I let my minde run away with me as a tear ran down my cheek. “is Lance okay?”
“oh, Sweets is fine... Sortof” Seeley said, I raised an eyebrow when I head the background ruckus on Seeley's phone.
“do not tell her! I'm fine!” Lance's panicky, annoyed voice made me sigh with realef, at least I knew he was okay.
“Seeley Booth you better tell me what happened” I said using my 'mom' voice as he likes to say.
He sighed. “he just got banged up is all, couple of nicks that's all” he said, if voice was still nervous tell me he was lying. Dating a Shrink for as long as I have you pick up on signs in voices and body language.
I heared an annoyed sigh in the background. “I'm not going to the doctor” Lance said, I chuckled at Lance's small fear of the doctor's office.
Seeley sighed. “met us at his office so you can patch the crybaby up”
I rolled my eyes at his choice of words. “alright.. laters gators” i said before hanging up the phone.
Before leaving the jeffersonian I quickly grabed the first aid kit I kept in my office before heading to the burow.
~~~~~~~~(3rd pov)~~~~~~~~
Y/n got to Lance's office before the Boys did, Lance had a key made for her a couple of years ago so she was able to get in and wait impatiently for them.
  She was knocked out of your thoughts when the sound of Seeley's voice and keys jangling just outside the of the office. She quickly open door before either one had the chance to.
  “Lance!” she sighed as she threw the door open, finding her boyfriend standing infront of Seeley, he stood behind Lance like he was ready to catch him if he fell. Lance smiled softly and held his arms out asking for some comfort, she pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his torso gently so she wouldn't hurt him.
  “I'm alright baby..” he mumbled as his arms wrapped around her small body and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
  She pulled away, rubbing his jaw with concern. She looking up into his chocolate brown eyes. The curls in his hair was sorta tossed around, his forehead had a few cuts that touched his hair line, the left side of his jaw was bruised, and his knuckles were busted on his right hand. She heart swelled with both love and concern.
“what happened to you guys? I was worried” she asked as she noticed Seeley was roughed up too. Lance carefully moved to the couch and plopped down.
 Y/n sat on the couch next to Lance, her eyes held nothing but sympathy as her two favorite boys looked like two kicked puppies thst won the fight.
“oh sweetheart” she mumbled, cradling his cheeks. Lance smiled and Seeley rolled his eyes. “it's not that bad” Lance reasured.
“yeah and what happened was-” Seeley started but y/n cut him off. “you know, I don't want to know... You guys are both back in once piece that's what matters”
Lance was about to opened his mouth to defend himself and Seeley, but y/n cut him off, “I'm gonna get you guys patched up”
Lance's lips tugged into an onry smirk as y/n terned her back to get her dented first-aid kit. Seeley saw and quickly clapped his hands together nervously, he didn't want to think of the guy he concerned a little brother in any none-innocent type of situation.
“ya know, Bone can take care of me... Just focus on your Shrink” Seeley said and left without saying goodbye. Y/n raised an eyebrow at her best friend's strange behavior as she pulled out the old first-aid kit.
The thing was well worn and dented up marvel pencil box, it was they type of box that kids cried for during back to school shopping. It was a red metel box and the picture of comic book heros were almost all gone.
  The old kit set beside Lance on the couch while she stood between Lance’s legs, he watched her every move, not because he didn't trust her, quite the opposite... He was was just always fascinated with how much medical stuff she knew.
“this is gonna sting a bit” y/n mumbled as she cleaned one of the cuts on his forehead, he wincined a bit but it wasn't an awful pain. After all the cuts on his face was cleaned she put some oitment on her fingers and rubbed it on the deeper cuts so they won't get infected.
“is that better?” she asked, putting a bandeg on his forehead then kissing it. He smiled, lifting his head so he could meet her lips with his. “I'd say so”
She chucked and pulled away gently. As she got a new cotton ball soaked with alcohol she opened her mouth to ask about the case, but hesitated.
“how was the case?” she asked taking his hand so she could clean up the dry blood off his knuckles.
His chocolate eyes looked down to watch her work, he shrugged. “we got the murder, but obviously not without a fight” he said.
She frowned. “I hate what they've done to you” Lance smirked at her concern. She knew Lance was a tough guy, but that didn't make her protective of him...he's been hurt enough in his life.
“the other guy is way worse... Trust me Baby” he kissed her nose as she finished wrapping up his hand. As he pulled away she raised his hand a kissed the bandged knuckles.
“you'll live” she joked. Lance shrugged with a smile. “I don't know Doc, I could use another kiss... It's a good muscle relaxer”
“your such a dork” she joked as she leaned in.
“you love me for it” he lazily smiled.
Y/n rolled her eyes and placed a kiss on his lips. She didn't pull all the away back, just enough to where their noses brushed against each other. “is that better?”
“it's getting there...” he mumbled as his fingers reached behind her neck and pulled her closer.
  “God, I love you” she murmured against his plush lips. He place one more kiss to her lips and he quickly stood up, pulling her tight against his chest, lips never leaving hers. She moaned softly and quickly reached for his neck to undo his tie. Her mouth moved quicker against his, his tongue brushing against yours.
  his hand moved down to grip her ass as they tumbled around the small room. She moaned louder, this time into his mouth. She began to understand at the fire that was building up in his kisses, how much he need her. Lance gently pushed her into the wall as she pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders. They only pulled away from each other long enough for him to pull her shirt over her head.
  Lance's hands fell and grabbed her ass, this time lifting her up. Her arms and legs wrapped around him. She gasped against his lips as her core rubbed against his.
  She buried her head in the crook of his neck, pressing kisses and bites to his skin as he moved towrds his desk. She shivered as the cold wood bit into her skin. Lance pressed his lips to her's as his hands fell to her thighs, slowly inching upward. Lance pushed her legs further apart, quickly slotting himself in between her legs.
Y/n looked up as the man she loved stood over her, his chocolate eyes trailing from her rosey lips, to the swell of her breasts, she was perfection in his eyes. when his eyes met her again, they were filled with lust, like the predator finally found his pray.
“is this okay?” He asked softly as His fingers trailed up her thigh, even after years of dating he always asked concent and made sure she was comfortable.
She watched as he fell to his knees in front, his head disappeared under her skirt, kissing the inside of her thighs. She let out a whimper as his warm tongue slid up between her folds. A moan escaped her lips as her fingers threaded through his curls. Lance's hands came up grabbing her thighs pulling her body closer as he devoured her. One of his hands came up to her clit rubbing circles, his tongue moved quickly, bring her closer to her orgasm.
He stood up straight leaning over her body. “You tase so good” he said quietly. She grew wetter at the sight of the slick covering his lips. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was just as turned on as she was. Her fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt as their lips connected for a rough kiss.
  Y/n quickly pushed his shirt off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. She couldn't held but let her eyes wonder, she had seen Lance naked countless times, but every time it got a reaction within her. the sight of his body made her cunt drip with want.
Lance smirked as his nuzzled his nose against hers. “you like was you see Baby?”
  She reached up and kissed his lips lazily “Lance, i need you. please,” she begged. “i need you inside me”
  he stood, towering over her with a smirk. Her eyes dropped to the outline of his cock in his jeans, she reached out and quickly unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall to the ground. His head fell back with a groan as her hands brushed up against his hard erection.
 Y/n ran her hands along his hardened chest before wrapping her arms around him and pulling him as close as possible. his hard dick brushed up against her soaked core, making the both of them groan in sync into the other’s mouth. Lance reached down to grab his dick, sliding the head through her entrance. he lined it up with her hole, pressing a kiss to her lips.
Y/n whimpered into his lips as Lance pushed his cock into her, pressing on her spot. She became lightheaded with pleasure as his lips fall onto her's again. the kisses were desperate and needy. hot and breathy.
  “are you alright, Baby?” his eyes were concerned and searching for awnsers. She nodded, giving Lance the okay to start moving. he moved slowly, feeling apprehensive. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, carding her fingers though his hair and tugging, encouraging him to move faster. He sped up, sheathing his cock in and out. Y/n's moans mixed with his.
  groaning, Lance bit your neck. “God, your so tight” he whispered. everything he did brought her closer to her climax.
 “fuck, you feel so good” the way he was fucking her felt like bliss, they're moans and whimpers bouncing of the walls.
Y/n opened her eyes meeting his brown ones. She felt that familiar knot build up again but faster this time as he hit the right spot over and over. He sat up pushing her legs open giving him more access, he looked. “Common Beautiful, cum for me.” His voice was smooth.
his thumb fell onto her clit, bringing her closer as her pussy tightened around him. It became too much, how deep he was and the pressure she felt on her clit.
“Lance” she moaned, bucking her hips to meet his while she cried out in pleasure. If they weren’t mindful, the people in the buro would hear them, but at this point they didn’t particularly care, the pleasure was too good. But as he worship her and kissed her, she prayed the other agents and staff were too busy with their own work and cases to hear her cries and pleas of pleasure.
“i'm gonna cum." Y/n whimpered weakly as she began to let herself go, her hips bucking through her orgasm, her cheeks flushing pink as she pressed her forehead to Lance's shoulder, his hand reached up to her jaw and lifted her face up. “look at me baby”
her cunt pulsing around him as he stared into his dark eyes. He tried to hold himself back and fuck her through her orgasm, and when she let out a loud whimper, he came, shooting thick ropes into her.
As if on queue, his office door flew open. “hey Sweets, I forgot to- oh God -sorry... Sorry!!” Seeley yelled, y/n's head snapping to look at the door “Seeley!” she yellep and tried to cover herself in her boyfriends chest. Lance's head dropped to her shoulder and squeezed her hips in pleasure as Seeley ran out of sweets' office, slamming the door shut, warmth still filling y/n as Lance let out a sigh.
“never ask me what I saw in there” Seeley said fermly as his eyes remained wide. Temperance gave him a strange look as her husband pulled her far away from Sweets office.
Y/n stared at Lance, her eyes wide as she watch him come down, he began to laugh as she looked at him in shock. “Lance, this isn't funny! That was our best friend” Y/n scolded, slapping his chest, causing him to laugh harder. “he shouda knocked” Lance shrugged, pulling his white shirt over his shoulders as he kissed her lips quickly.
“my best friend walked in on us having sex, your not the tiniest bit embarrassed?” Y/n asked in disbelief, Lance shrugged. “a little bit, but that felt too good to care” he said pulling his pants up, as y/n collected herself Lance grabed the rest of her clothes.
“Did you at least see his face? I was busy.” Lance smirked, earning another slap to his chest. Y/n nodded, laughing slightly. “he's probably scared for life now”
“definitely” Lance said placing a quick kiss on her lips. “for life” he added while kissing her cheek.
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scrollonso · 19 days ago
Text
How else would we celebrate? — Lawstroll
As soon as Liam steps into his motorhome, the tension and adrenaline from qualifying seem to melt away, replaced by a warm, bubbling excitement.
A big smile spreads across his face as he spots Lance already stretched out on the sofa, looking as comfortable as ever. Lance’s hair is a charming mess from ages under his helmet, his race suit unzipped down to his waist, revealing the hint of a soft T-shirt underneath — seemingly one of Liam's that he switched into after his crash. He looks completely at ease, but there’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes that Liam recognizes right away.
It’s not the top spot they’ve both been dreaming of, not yet anyway, but P10 is a massive achievement today. For weeks, Lance has been fighting tooth and nail, pushing himself and that car — no matter how frustrating, no matter how disappointing the results sometimes were. There were all those brutal qualifying sessions where the car barely allowed him to scrape through to Q2, if he even made it that far. Those moments were rough, and Liam knows the toll they took on Lance. But today is different. Today, P10 feels like a real victory, and in that moment, Liam feels like the proudest boyfriend in the world.
Liam barely takes a moment to set down his helmet and gloves before he all but launches himself onto the sofa, his excitement bubbling over. He practically dives into Lance’s arms, wrapping him up in a tight, full-bodied hug that’s as much celebration as it is relief. Lance’s surprised chuckle vibrates against Liam’s shoulder, and in that instant, Liam can feel all the tension, all the buildup of the day’s nerves, fade away.
Lance’s arms instinctively wrap around him, pulling him close, and he melts into the embrace, the familiar warmth and solid presence of his boyfriend grounding him. They hold each other like that for a moment, tangled up in a mess of limbs, giggles, and shared pride.
“You did it,” Liam hums, his face lighting up with pure joy as he pulls back just enough to look Lance in the eyes. His voice carries a mix of disbelief, pride, and so much excitement he can hardly contain it. “Q3, Lance! You made it to Q3! You're my wet weather prince, Lance.”
He emphasizes each part as if saying it out loud will make it feel even more real, his words filled with admiration. It’s like every frustration, every tough moment over the past weeks has finally paid off, and he can’t stop smiling, can’t stop marveling at the sight of Lance here, sitting with him, their small triumph between them. The disbelief in his tone isn’t because he doubted Lance — it’s because he’s just so proud to see Lance break through the struggle and land a spot in the top ten — though he was confident his boyfriend couldve achieved more if hiven the chance.
Lance breaks into a wide grin, trying to play it cool as he shrugs, but Liam can see right through him. He knows Lance well enough to catch the sparkle in his eyes and the way his cheeks are just a bit flushed, signs that he’s quietly thrilled, maybe even more than he’s letting on. There’s a pride there, barely contained beneath the surface, and it makes Liam’s heart swell.
“Yeah, yeah,” Lance says, doing his best to sound casual, though a hint of excitement creeps into his voice. “I mean, P10’s no P5,” he adds, raising an eyebrow and nudging Liam’s shoulder with a playful smirk. His eyes glint with a mix of mischief and affection, and there’s something in his tone that makes Liam laugh, knowing Lance is still Lance — always ready to tease him, even now.
“Oh, don’t even start,” Liam laughs, rolling his eyes as he gives Lance a playful shove. The push doesn’t go far, though, and Lance just shifts closer, that smug little grin still lingering. Liam can’t help but smile, the teasing all too familiar, something that grounds him even after a whirlwind of a day. He lets out a deep breath, then leans in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to Lance’s cheek, his lips brushing against the warmth of Lance’s skin.
They settle into the sofa together, legs tangled up and arms draped around each other, the rush of adrenaline slowly giving way to a deep, shared contentment. The motorhome is quiet, the world outside fading until it feels like there’s nothing left but this small, peaceful space they’ve created just for the two of them. Liam rests his head against Lance’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined, and they stay like that, close and warm, soaking in the rare moment of calm.
It’s simple and unhurried, but after the intensity of qualifying, after all those grueling weeks of struggle and frustration, this silence feels like a treasure — like a reward, a reminder of why they’re here, of what they’re building together.
Liam shifts slightly, just enough to turn and meet Lance’s eyes, a gentle smile on his face. “Honestly, though,” he murmurs, his voice soft with a warmth that makes Lance’s cheeks flush just a bit. “I’m just… so happy for you.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Lance’s mouth, his hand sliding up to cup his jaw. “That car has sucked for so long,” he continues between kisses, each one tender, “but you didn’t let it get to you.” He kisses him again, slower this time, letting it linger. “You kept pushing, kept believing in yourself, and you made it. You just… i don't know, you did it, Lance.”
Lance leans into him, eyes fluttering shut as he returns the kiss, slow and soft, a gentle melding of lips that says everything he can’t put into words. Liam’s hand slips into his hair, tugging him even closer, and for a few breathless seconds, they’re lost in each other. Lance kisses him back with a quiet intensity, his thumb tracing gentle patterns along Liam’s cheek, as if grounding himself in the reality of this moment.
They break apart for only a second, just long enough for Liam to laugh softly, their foreheads resting together. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, pressing another kiss to Lance’s lips. Lance laughs against his mouth, pulling Liam in again, and they lose themselves in another kiss, deeper and more unguarded this time. The weight of the day, the struggles, everything else fades away until all they can feel is each other.
They lay in a comfortable silence for a minute, both of their heart beats syncing together, morphing them into one. Liam is the first to speak.
Before he knows it, the words are tumbling out, almost as if they’re lifting themselves off his heart: “We should get married.” He whispers, his words catching for a moment as he looks into Lance’s eyes. There’s something there, something in the way Lance is watching him, that brings out a warmth, a certainty he didn’t even realize he was feeling.
It’s unplanned, sudden, and as soon as he says it, Liam feels a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement, but he doesn’t pull back. He just keeps looking at Lance, his face open and sincere, feeling as though he’s been holding this thought deep inside, waiting for just the right moment — this moment.
Lance’s eyes widen in shock, his mouth slightly open — and lips slightly swolen — as he processes what Liam just said. For a second, he’s completely speechless, his face an adorable mix of surprise and awe. Then, as if the realization finally hits him, he breaks into a laugh — a laugh that’s both delighted and incredulous, filled with a kind of disbelief that only comes when something wonderful sneaks up on you.
“Wait, are you serious?” he asks, looking at Liam with this look that’s so full of wonder it almost makes Liam’s heart skip a beat. Lance’s eyes are shining, his expression so open and vulnerable, like he’s seeing Liam in a new light, or maybe seeing all the things he already knew were there but suddenly appreciating them in an entirely different way.
Liam’s cheeks flush a little, and he starts laughing too, feeling a bit silly but also unbelievably happy. “Well, yeah!” he says, a little breathless as he gestures toward Lance with a broad, affectionate grin. “I mean, look at you!” He laughs again, his heart racing with the thrill of actually saying it out loud. “P10 is marriage material, Stroll. Obviously.”
Lance shakes his head, his grin stretching wider as he leans in closer, bringing a hand up to cradle the side of Liam’s face. He presses a gentle, lingering kiss to Liam’s lips, pouring every ounce of his affection into that one soft moment. When he pulls back, his smirk returns, playful and warm. “If that’s all it took, I would’ve aimed for Q3 ages ago,” he says, his tone dropping to a softer, more intimate note as he wraps an arm around Liam’s waist, pulling him in so close there’s hardly any space between them. “But honestly,” he murmurs, his eyes searching Liam’s, “I think I’d marry you even if I qualified dead last every single race.”
Liam’s breath catches, his heart swelling at the simple honesty in Lance’s words. It’s moments like this that remind him why he fell in love with Lance — the gentle loyalty, the way he cares so deeply, even when things aren’t perfect. Liam leans in, brushing his lips against Lance’s in another soft kiss before whispering, “Good. But just for the record, you’re going to have to keep making it to Q3. Can’t let my standards slip now.”
They both laugh again, the sound filling the motorhome with warmth, a shared joy that lingers in the air like a secret, unbreakable bond between them. They stay close, wrapped up in each other, letting the silly, spontaneous promise settle around them. In that small space, surrounded by helmets and racing gear, they’re just Liam and Lance — two people who have found something so precious in each other.
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