#randomly swallowed by the earth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sonicssweetheart · 3 months ago

Note

Omg I love your writing!! 🥹 please could I request nsfw Sonic x Reader with it being readers first time? Thank youuuuu 🫶🫶🫶

⋆🎐˚｡⋆ — hehehe i’ve been waiting for this one… turn it up!!! since there is no specified gender for reader i will do fem! (thank u for requesting! <3)

sonic x fem!reader ୧🍓 ༘ ₊˚.

ᝰ.ᐟ warnings ; NSFW, suggestive shower scene, gentle sex, oral (reader receiving), praise.

it’s winter, and it’s a harsh one.

you and sonic are the type to stay indoors when it’s cold, especially since it’s well past 9 o’clock and a snowstorm is manipulating vastly outside your kitchen window. typically, you don’t mind a heavy flurry, but it can be easily anxiety inducing with the fear of the power going out — which wasn’t ideal.

as you sat with one leg tucked under your knee on your leather couch scrolling on your phone, you could hear the mere moment of vibrating electricity before sonic appeared beside you , his leg crossed over his other and his arm behind you on the back of the sofa. he peered over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of what you were looking at, which he was bad for, being nosey and all, which just ended up being a Pinterest board. his gloved finger tapped on the back pillow, his gaze switching to your face as he awaited your acknowledgment. you tilted your head back on his arm and rolled your head over to look him in the eye, putting your phone down. “yes?”

“mm, hi,” he hummed before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’m taking a shower, id like to be clean before and if the power goes out.”

he spoke with charm in his voice, as if he was still attempting to win you over, regardless of the fact you haven been together for a little over 8 months. frankly, he swept you off of your feet each time.

you furrowed your eyebrows at him, lifting your head as you grew serious. “uhm, no. i’m taking a shower. you had one yesterday.” you protested, which in response he scoffed and looked into the distance for a second.

“you also don’t run around all day everyday smelling like every biome on this earth. c’mon, please?” he looked back at you with that stupid persuasive look in his eye that put you into a chokehold, however you weren’t complying.

“i also haven’t washed my hair in two days and look like i crawled out of an oil slick,” you turned to face him, gesturing your hand towards the window behind the couch. “i don’t want to risk going in after you when there’s a storm outside. that freaks me out.”

feeling rather indifferent about the jab at yourself, sonic ran his hand over his ears, leaning forwards to put his elbows on his knees, looking back at you.

“likewise, princess,” he teased, making you scrunch your face at him, “what’s the compromise?”

you opened your mouth to reply but stopped yourself, your chest contracting for a quick second before swallowing hard and shrugging.

“well, we could… shower, together? maybe. i don’t know. there’s less of a chance that way.” you suggested. he was slightly taken aback, since you both haven’t been in such a suggestive context before. however, he would be stupid to decline.

────୨ৎ────

you stood awkwardly in your bathroom within your shared bedroom, watching shyly as the blue hedgehog turned on the faucet, trying to get it at the right temperature. you held the towels tightly to your chest unknowingly, starting to overthink about how he would react seeing you so vulnerable and exposed. of course he has seen you basically naked, by changing clothes in the same room and what not, but this was different. however the soft look in his eyes as he turned around to face you softened that fear slightly. he took the towels from you and placed them on the counter and opened the shower curtain.

“i’ll get in first, you come in when you’re ready.” his patience and kind voice made you purse your lips in order to not randomly smile like a freak, and so you hesitantly slipped off your clothes piece by piece.

the steam from the water filled the bathroom quickly, and you eventually stepped into the shower to avoid wasting any time. sonic stood with his back to you, facing the shower head. you noticed the muscles in his back, flexing and straining everytime he moved his arms to wash his head. biting your cheek, you faced your back to his and began to wash your body.

it didn’t take long before it felt slightly awkward, however when you went to grab the shampoo, sonic had suddenly turned around and grabbed it first. you froze momentarily as he seemed to pop open the cap and a cold sensation ran over your scalp. his hands began massaging your head, gently working the shampoo through your roots and down to your ends. you definitely didn’t mind this.

you closed your eyes in pure bliss and groaned, leaning your head back onto his shoulder as he rubbed circles into the sides of your head. your back was now flush against his chest and a flash of heat travelled through your legs, provoking the other storm that brewed in your gut. there was something about his act of service that made your face flush and your knees to grow weak.

“does it feel good?” he asked in a tone that made you panic internally. you tried your best to nod, turning around to face him as you let the water flush out your hair. your sudden boost of confidence under the water with him turned quickly intimate as your chest was now flush against him. sonic lifted a hand to take a handful of your hair and strain the excess shampoo out — and you knew exactly what he was doing.

before another word was said or worse, you simultaneously crashed against each others lips, your hands raising eagerly to wrap around his neck as his instinctively ran down the dip of your back and latched on to your hips to pull you closer. the kiss instantly deepened as a few groans slipped past your lips and onto his, making his breath shudder. sonic had reached behind him blindly to turn off the faucet and whipped open the shower curtain. as much as his eagerness to get out of the bathroom was harsh, his lips and touch were certainly the opposite. the kisses lingered slowly as he savoured every taste and scent that flooded into his senses, completely drunk off of you.

you felt him grow hard against your leg, causing you to jolt a little at the sudden feeling. he pulled away, looked into your eyes with a feral expression in his own, and pressed his lips to your neck. he seemed to lap at the shower water that beautifully coated your shoulder & neck, being rewarded with the soft sounds that erupted from your throat.

“sonic, m’ please” you fumbled in a whisper, your hands clawing at his bare back. he hummed in response and didn’t hesitate to lift you up by your legs, stepping out of the shower and bringing you to bed. taking a break from your lips for a moment, sonic gently placed you down on your silk sheets and looked into your eyes with a serious expression.

“do you want this?” he asked softly, his eyes gazing at your soaked body and heaving chest. face flushed, you looked away for a moment.

“i..i do, just nervous. i don’t know what to do or say.” you admitted shyly. sonic pressed a gentle kiss to your jawline and leaned his lips to your ear.

“just let me take care of you, yeah?” his voice echoed in your eardrums, and you nodded eagerly, a soft whine slipping from your lips. getting you fully on the bed, sonic trailed small kisses from your forehead down to your stomach, his hands fondling anything he could grab.

“so pretty, baby,” he whispered as he reached your pelvis, looking up at you to observe your reaction. of course you were beet red and beyond nervous, however you craved this like a drug. you’ve only been dreaming of this moment basically since this man walked into your life. and now he was about to be buried between your legs, and the thought left you aching.

rubbing circles into your hips, sonic maintained eye contact as he pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his breath wafting over your aching core causing you to shiver. you cursed under your breath as you tried to keep your hips from jerking upwards out of excitement.

“you tell me when to stop, and i’ll stop, okay?” listening to him setting boundaries with a soaked body was something you would only find in a harlequin book. you stared like a dumbfound dog, nodding in response. he smirked before slipping his thumb down your clit and between your folds, feeling the wetness that overcame you. propped up on your elbows, you threw your head back as you moaned gracefully, making his ear twitch in response. he was quick to put his tongue to work, teasing you with small swipes against your clit then transitioning to sucking and tongue fucking you like his life depended on it.

it was impossible for you to stay quiet, and it was equally impossible for him to not rut against the bed out of desperation. sonic craved to make you feel good like this, to have the power to manipulate your pleasure by just his tongue. he took pride in knowing that he made you come undone like this.

he groaned deeply as his tongue slipped in and out of your core, having to keep your hips still with his hands as you squirmed and whined. he looked up at you with lidded eyes, his aching cock not being able to wait any longer to be inside of you. the look he gave you made your stomach tighten and a ringing to start in your ear. the tip of his tongue grazed over your clit once more which nearly sent you over the edge.

he could tell by the way you gasped, where he then pulled back and took a gasp of air, his mouth coated with your slick. he used his thumb to wipe it off and smear it on his tongue, crawling back up to you to kiss you once more. you already felt tired and overstimulated, yet your muscles were not satisfied as they awaited their closure.

“you taste so good, y/n,” he mumbled between kisses, his hand trailing down your chest and to your pussy once more to gently prod a finger at your entrance. you gasped in the kiss and bucked your hips up which notified him that you wanted more. he slipped in a second finger and groaned at the sound of your core squelching around his fingers. he pulled away from your lips, his arm propped up beside your head as his other hand worked through your core.

your insides felt as if they were swelling rapidly, the heat mixing between you and sonic had you basically melting into the sheets. “ ‘want it now, please,” you whispered shakily, your mind so clouded with pleasure you were sure you wouldn’t be conscious in the next few minutes. he slipped out his fingers, earning a gasp from you, and eagerly grabbed protection from the night stand.

you both chuckled softly at sonics struggle to open the condom with wet fingers, your heart swelling knowing that you didn’t have to be serious even during such an intimate moment. when he finally opened it and rolled the rubber shakily on himself, he hovered himself over you and bashfully scanned your body for a moment.

“are you, uh… ready?” he asked awkwardly, the poor boy afraid to do anything rash in fear of you becoming uncomfortable. reaching your hand up to run your hand down his damp quills, your legs instinctively spread open, your arousal nearly pooling under you. “uh huh,” you replied with a squeaky voice, giving him a look that would be forever imprinted in the back of his head. he cursed under his breath, knowing that he would severely fail at keeping his composure longer than two minutes.

the moment he began to slide into you, you let out a quick sob at the sudden pain, sonic being quick to ease you out. he pressed soft pecks to your jaw and neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. it was unbearably uncomfortable at first, however once he gave a final push, it felt like a puzzle piece connecting. you gasped , your walls clenching around him at the pleasure that quickly over took the pain. you moaned loudly, signaling for sonic to begin moving his hips.

he raised his head, his hands again placed beside your shoulders, a drunken look falling upon his eyes. fuck, you felt good, and he wasn’t hiding it.

he just watched you — mesmerized and drinking in the euphoric sight of your flushed face, hazy eyes and wet hair sprawled on the pillow, his lips parting in awe. he often day dreamed about seeing this, however that was nothing compared to being in the real moment. his hips twitched every time you made a sound, and he would’ve sacrificed his soul to have that on repeat for the rest of forever.

“does… does it feel good?” he asked in a shaky breath, seeking the reassurance that what he was doing was satisfactory. “mhmm, yes, yes,” you huffed out, your hands gripping onto his biceps as his body rocked against yours.

the soft creaking of the bed and precious huffs & moans exchanged between the two of you filled the room quickly, and it was just perfect. sonic found himself losing his coherence as he became quite vocal and sped up his movements ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you, his hands moving to your hips to steady himself.

and that sight was just godly. his fur still damp, ears twitching, eyes half lidded and muscles flexing with every thrust… the sight alone could have easily caused your orgasm. however, instead it was caused by a whole other sensation.

as one of sonics arms wrapped under your hips and was hoisted slightly to give an incline, his other hand rubbed small circles onto your clit. he retracted his cock slightly from inside of you, now only giving small thrusts around two inches inside of you. he watched you intently, breaths quick and ragged as he licked his lips at your reaction.

he was stimulating probably one hundred different spots right now, and it was ethereal. you tried your best it maintain eye contact, but the growing knot in your abdomen threatened your composure.

“fuck, fuck sonic i-im, i,” you babbled as your hips involuntarily jerked and sputtered like a broken engine. some sort of whine broke past his lips as he was clearly on edge as well just from the sight of you, his hips stuttering every few thrusts. “ ‘you’re doing so good, s-so good, y/n —“ not another word was exchanged before you completely let go, the sound of your voice on his tongue triggering what was threatening to come undone. sonic was quick to follow along, not being able to control the rest of his cock pushing all the way inside of you, hitting every mold in your sore cunt.

the heavy pants that followed your boyfriend riding out both yours and his orgasm let the moment sink in, your sweat and salvia mingling between the tension in the air. pressing his forehead to yours, you both closed your eyes and came down from your high.

a kiss was quickly captured between the two of you, locking in place what was just commenced. his hand stroked your hair, leaning his index and middle finger away from you so he wouldn’t get any fluids onto your clean locks. (gentleman!) pulling away, he looked down at you, smiling like a fool and climbing off of you to lay on his side, propping his head up with his palm.

“imagine, all of that just happened just because i wanted to shower. i think im gifted.” he was instantly back to his smug ways, which meant being back to your annoyed facade. you rolled your eyes as much as you could and attempted to push him away.

“you’re so gross.”

“mm… but you love me.”

“yeah. yeah i guess i do.”

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

a/n — holy yap… i feel like i dragged that on alot but its hard to stop once you start LOL anyway tysm for requesting anon n im currently working on new reqs!! 🩵

#sonic fanfiction #sonic the hedgehog #sonicssweetheart #digital diary #fanfic #sonic oneshots #sonicnsfw #sonic18+#sonic x reader #requests open #send reqs

154 notes · View notes

bowsnstrings · 4 months ago

Text

🎶🎼🎀Hit The Right Note!🎀🎼🎶

Onyankopon x original character

Warnings: 1.6k words! mentions of weed, mentions of food, descriptions of sex, (pnv) unprotected sex, original character with original descriptions.

Ony always had his brightest ideas when he was with Princess. Well mostly when he was high and around Princess. He couldn’t help it though, it was two of his favorite things combined, it was bound to make good things happen.

He was smoking in the studio listening to some new beats he was working on. Princess sat close by on his new loveseat he bought for her to sit on during late nights in the studio. He was trying to take a break after getting frustrated, huffing out a cloud to the ceiling as he reclined back.

Princess had suggested food to brighten up his mood, their cheat days “suddenly” aligning perfectly, so they settled on breakfast for dinner. The only thing open at midnight was Waffle House so they packed up and left for the night.

Ony let her pick the songs on the car ride, and she randomly picked Aaliyah’s classic. He laughed the hardest he had in a while when they realized how crazy they were for going to Waffle House at nearly one in the morning, but that was nothing new being around her.

“It feels like you try’na be New New or something.” Ony quipped at her for her song choice, poking her in the ribs at the red light to hear her giggle.

“Ony! Stooop!” Princess whined, smacking her lips, her lipgloss reflecting the red from the traffic light. Fuck, she looked good, wearing his most expensive jersey, hair just thrown into a ponytail. She was hard at work with him in the studio, putting her pen to paper too.

They pulled into the lot and sat in a booth, no security, no cameras, no fans. No one else was in there but the employees, and funnily enough they treated them so poorly that it was like they weren’t celebrities either.

Ony got his hashbrowns with cheese, bacon, toast, and waffles, happily scarfing down all of his food across from Princess. He was chewing as he watched her take her first bite, and then it happened. She gave a long humm, lower in her usual tone but still over the larynx. Still sweet sounding, but much dirtier.

He almost mistook it for a moan. He swallowed his food quickly, blinking at her in disbelief across the table. “Ony? Earth to Ony? Onya? Hello?” She called out, waving her hand to catch his attention.

That’s when Ony pulled out his notebook, quickly jotting down what she had just said, and following it up with some new lines. They stayed in that Waffle House, Ony writing, crossing out words, creating double entendres and punchlines until the workers were really giving them dirty looks.

He finished the song before they made it to his home, Ony rushing to pull her inside while Princess sleepily yawned at four a.m., still wondering what Ony was up to.

“Baby, I wanna put you in my song.” He leaned over her shoulder, rubbing his hands down her sides. “I want your voice, a piece of you in it forever.” Ony whispered to her gently.

Her hands rubbed up and down his neck, she stretched like a cat in his hands, and was purring too. “Okay, Ony.” She sighed into him, her body pressed against his. That was nothing, she’d been on plenty of his songs before.

“I want you to moan for me, Baby. On the song.”

Princess gasped softly, taken aback, but didn’t pull away. Still against him as his arms moved down soothingly. They came back up under her arms as he pulled away to look at her, worried that he was going too far.

“You don’t have to-”

“Okay.” She slumped back down, hiding her face from him in her hands. Her stack of bracelets shone in his face as he stood there in shock at how fast she agreed.

“Okay, what?” He asked to be sure, he had to be sure about this, and she did too.

“Okay, Ony. We can do it.” She blinked heavily, droopy lovesick eyes that were trying to avoid his. “Just promise me you won't let my Grandparents find out about it. Say it’s fake or whatever.” She rambled out, looking down at her feet.

“You really want to, Mama?” He put his hand under her chin, lifting it until they saw each other clearly. The only light was the moonlight from outside, but Ony was still able to see the way she held steady. “You can always say no. Even if we start and you want to stop.”

“I want to, Ony.” She eased out her words in one breath. Stepping back until her legs touched the bed behind her. Her hands shaking slightly as they reached for the hem of the jersey, pulling it up before pausing at her belly button. “Only if you keep loving me so good.”

“I promise.”

The rest is a bit of a blur now, hard, meaningful kisses exchanged as they helped each other strip out of their clothes. He needed to be able to hear her loud and clear, so he had his voice memo app open on his phone, recording right next to her face.

Her cheek laid on her hand, turning into the sheets in a beautiful arch for him. Ony rubbing a hand over her ass as she kept upright on unsteady legs, chest pressed to the mattress as she presented her pussy for him.

She was huffing out breathless pants, rocking side to side trying to soothe the ache between her legs as Ony stuffed her full. As soon as he tried to get the last three inches in she’d wiggle left or right. At first he couldn’t help but get mesmerized by the way her hips moved, teeth clenched tight trying to muffle his own sounds. Now, he was losing patience, needing to fuck her good.

The way she looked was downright filthy now, something straight out of Ony’s wet dreams as he pulled out, watching how soaking wet Princess’s pretty pink hole was as she tried to clench down on nothing. She was whining for him, wanting him back in, but still scared.

“So..so- hngh!”

Both of them were drenched in her, his fat tip catching on her entrance as he groaned, forgetting about the recording momentarily. Her puffy folds warm and inviting as Ony pushed back in slowly, hearing her shrill begging, keening musically as she was stuffed again and again.

“Common, Baby. You can do it, just let it out for me.”

His hands grabbing her waist to pull her into him, his hips pressed right against her until her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Ony! Ah! Too much-too full, hah hahh-”

No, not right, too high. Too short too. No, he needed the right one. Organic, natural, deeper. Ony wanted her to let out that part of her that was buried deep, he wanted her to really let it out.

“Ugh, please- please- pleaseeee!”

“Please what, Ma?” He tossed his head back after punching into her with a rough thrust, her legs scrambling to close. He forced his hips forward more, grabbing her ankles and holding up her calves as he rolled his hips in waves. “You can cum, you know you can cum.”

One of his calloused palms travels up her leg, rubbing so close where she needed him to touch. “Uh, uhh-” Princess almost did it, turning away into her elbow at the last second, hands gripping the sheets for dear life.

“You can do it, Baby. Just need me to help you, hmm? You need me, Baby?”

Smack, smack, smack. Ony’s hips driving in faster than before, both of them panting and sweaty, breathing heavily as Princess moaned and whined. None of them were right yet, he needed to get that hit, that next number one!

Ony quickly leaned down, one hand snaking around to grab her face, lifting it to his phone’s speaker where it was still recording all the sinful sounds in the room. It was a dripping mess between her legs, they were slippery as he dragged his fingertips up her thigh to her clit. He pressed down hard with his middle finger, following her as her hips tried to pull back, using the opportunity to plug forward again.

Princess screamed when he quickly began sliding his fingers back and forth, firm strokes that had her seizing up. Her knees trying to press together and her pussy trying to push him out as she squirted through her orgasm. Her back truly arched for him as he lifted her face higher, still rubbing at her clit.

“Breathe. Breathe for me, Mama.” She followed his order as soon as the words floated into her ear. A big deep breath into her lungs, gasping for it, then as she breathed out, there it was. That perfect moan, long and steady, right into the mic, but just for good measure he kept rubbing and got another one too.

Princess didn’t remember anything else after that, not even when Ony bathed her down and dressed her back up in warm clothes. Afterwards he left to head back to the studio, but not before swarming her face in soft kisses and tucking her into his bed to finally get some sleep. As soon as he got back in he set himself up to record and in four short hours the song was done, mix and mastered too.

It was safe to say that Princess was thoroughly embarrassed to hear herself sound like that ever, even though Ony reassured her that she sounded beautiful. It was downright pornagraphic the way she moaned, and Ony only accentuated her voice to make it really pop through people’s speakers.

They dropped the song that same day Princess approved it, and overnight it was a hit. Millions of people were trying to guess who’s voice it was, tweeting, commenting, spamming Ony day and night to find out. He’d take it to the grave, but whenever someone would ask where he came up with the idea he’d always say, “It’s just what my dream woman sounds like.”

Hey everyone, sorry for taking so long to post, I'm trying to get through finals and a class I'm taking during winter break. Give me like one more week for the next fic, but for right now here's a little something I wrote last night! xoxo - Bow🎀🫶🏾

162 notes · View notes

turtles-invoked · 4 months ago

Text

“How come you can’t fly?” Jack asks Castiel randomly one afternoon. Him, Jack, Dean, and Sam sit at the long table in the library, the brothers sharing a beer, Jack and Cas just happy to be in their company.

Well, maybe it wasn’t as random as it seemed. Jack was curious about The Apocalypse after Dean’s possession. They explained it all in as much detail as they could, Sam even offering as much as loosing his soul and how that affected him, and then how it affected Cas. Which lead to the Leviathan’s and then somehow they ended up talking about their time in Purgatory which naturally lead to Naomi’s control over Cas and then Metatron’s betrayal which leaves them where they’re up to now at the Great Fall… at least that’s what they’ve been calling it.

All eyes turn to Cas. The conversation comes to a halt at the somewhat intrusive question. An uncomfortable, bubbling feeling begins to roll and churn in his stomach as his face begins to heat up.

He opens his mouth to start explaining but Sam had begun to answer for him, “because he fell with the angels.” He says it as if it was obvious, but when he looks around and takes in Dean’s frown and Cas’ squinted eyes and slight head tilt to the left he starts to doubt himself, “…right?”

Cas completely forgot that Sam was particularly unwell at the time of the Great Fall. No one ever spoke about his lack of wings after he became human and they were a little busy when Cas finally got what little of his Grace was left. Of course Sam wouldn’t know. Dean doesn’t even know it all, so how would Sam?

“No… I uh…” Cas started and looked around at all the faces watching him; Sam’s confused frown, Jack’s intrigued yet a little wary squint, and Dean’s sympathetic eyes.

“When I gave Metatron my grace…” he starts slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat, “naturally, I lost all of my powers, including my wings…”

“But you got it back?” Jack asks, still confused.

“Not all of it. What was left after the spell wasn’t enough to heal my body immediately.”

“But you said over time it will regenerate,” Jack argues.

“Correct, and it has, but-”

“Then you should be able to fly,” he says hopefully.

Cas shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat. Jack was looking so hopeful at him that it almost felt worse to crush that than it did to admit what really happened.

“Theoretically, yes…” he starts and spares a glance at Dean. The brothers hadn’t said anything more since Cas begun his story and it unnerved him a little.

“Since I never technically fell with the rest of the angels, my Grace should have healed them… but there is more to it than that.”

“Wait a second-” Sam cuts in leaning forward in his seat, “you didn’t fall with the angels?”

“No, at the time I was already human.”

Sam looks at him as if he’s trying to piece together everything but nothing quite makes sense.

Jack interjects this time, frowning as he asks, “you gave Metatron your grace?”

“He was played,” Dean says simply, a tinge of frustration in his tone.

Cas sighs in agreement, “while Sam was attempting to close the gates of Hell, I thought I was sealing Heaven…”

“You were going to lock all the angels away? Including you?” Jack interjects again.

This time Cas’ eyes snap to Dean who was staring straight at him. His expression remained stoic and neutral but his eyes were a little bit wider, more attentive, desperate for the answer too. Of course he wasn’t going to leave Dean, but they had never had a chance to have that conversation.

“No,” Cas says sincerely, then turns his attention back to Jack, “No, I was- am unwelcome in Heaven. Though, I would have stayed on Earth regardless.”

“Jack, we’re getting off track,” Sam points out waving his hands to backtrack to the original plot.

“Right, yes. I was tracking Metatron when a couple of his followers found me. I was captured an-”

“Alone?” Jacks asks surprised.

“Yes.”

“As a human?”

“No. No we found Metatron previously and captured him, however, he knew where the rest of my grace was. I was… dying… and at the time Metatron was cuffed… we didn’t- I didn’t think he could escape. He was weak but he did, and I was trying to… find him when some of his very few remaining loyalties found me. I was still weak…” he trails off becoming nervous again.

“Wait- you had Metatron, but you let him go so you could get your grace back!?” Sam asks incredulously.

Dean slaps his arm to shut him up, but Cas can feel the frustrated anger in Sam’s stare.

“For what it’s worth, I did not agree. It was Hannah who insisted. I assumed wrongly that the cuffs could contain him,” Cas feels his face flush with frustration. He was starting to lose track of his story with all the interruptions and emotions beginning to swell in his chest.

“All of this could have been avoided!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, and Cas would be dead!” Dean interjects for the first time since Cas started talking.

“I would not have survived much longer without it, I am sorry to disappoint,” he replies curtly and returns his attention to Jack’s big pleading eyes.

“What happened when they found you?” Jack asks softly.

“He…” Cas swallows the lump in his throat before he continues, “… he bound and tortured me…” he looked at his intertwined hands, talking to the table. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, could feel the thumping in his ears as the blood rushed through his body, the embarrassment working its way through his veins.

“He cut into me with my own angel blade, but he soon realised I would not give up Sam and Dean very easily, so he…. Resorted to more… intense… measures…” Cas swallows again… his mouth beginning to dry, and his eyes burn ever so slightly. Visions of his shirt ripped opened and bloodied, flashed through his mind. He could feel the tight, pulling, bounding of his wrists as he was suspended from the ceiling, toes barely touching the ground; the stinging of each carve into his skin. He even remembers his relief when he thought they had given up, but the devastation as he realised what they had planned to do next.

“Cas, you don’t have to talk about it…” Dean says carefully.

Cas shakes his head to try and push the memories away, “I thought when they stopped they had given up. But how wrong was I…”

He shifts in his seat, leaning back so he’s not so hunched over, his hands now in his lap, still clenched together.

“They sliced down my back… extracted my wings and-” Cas inhaled shakily before blowing it out, the corners of his eyes beginning to prickle.

“We get it,” Dean says softly. Cas looks up and meets his eyes. Dean offers a sympathetic smile while Jack looks like he may pass out. His face has paled a little, mouth hung open in disbelief,’“I didn’t think that was possible…”

“It was… excruciating. Had Hannah not found me when she did…” Cas looks sheepishly to Dean, “I would not have lasted long at all…”

“It’s okay,” Dean says in that same gentle tone.

“Cas- I-” Sam was at a loss for words, “I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” Cas replies a little too short.

“Have you tried to heal them?” Jack says quietly.

Cas gives him a flat smile, “yes. As well as Hannah and Gabriel. It appears they are damaged beyond repair…”

“May I try?”

All Cas can do is shake his head.

“Please let me try, Cas?”

At the same time as Dean says, “that’s enough,” Cas pushes his chair out and mumbles an, “excuse me,” not looking back at the table as he exits the room and heads for his own.

He can hear Jack and Dean arguing lightly with each other, but he pays it no more attention than he does the tears welling up in his eyes. When he approaches his room he shuts the door gently behind him and leans against it, sighing out deeply as the tears fall from his eyes freely.

He wipes them away and laughs to himself at his own humanity. ‘An angel crying,’ he thinks to himself. My, how far had he fallen indeed.

A knock at his door pulls him out of his self pity as well as a gentle soft call of his name, “Cas?” Cas could pick out Dean’s voice anywhere.

Cas wiped his face one more time before kicking off the door and opening it.

“You good?” Dean asks leaning against the frame.

Cas nods and tries to put on his best smile. But Dean raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest, looking straight through his facade.

Cas sighs and steps to the side to let him in, and shuts the door behind them.

He doesn’t have much in his room. His bed hasn’t been used in a couple of days, his few personal items are the books he’s snagged from the library to read while the boys sleep. Very bare compared to Dean’s.

Dean walks in and takes a seat at the edge of the bed facing Cas.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly, his hands folded between his legs.

Cas takes a seat next to Dean, hands clasped, and in his lap but he. Twiddles his thumbs, a nervous tick he developed as a human that he can’t get rid of of, “I-” but he doesn’t know what to say. Or where to start. Or how to explain it. Or if he even wants too. Because as soon as he starts to think about it again, the heaviness is back in his chest, and the warmth in his eyes returns, “-I can’t…”

He takes a moment to compose himself, to settle the heavy beating of his heart, and stares up at the ceiling. He takes a couple of breaths before looking over at Dean, his deep green eyes studying him, not judging, but observing, paying attention to every little move Cas makes. Cas looses his breath looking at him and how alluring his gaze is, so he focuses back on his hands and whispers, “I don’t believe this is something Jack can fix.”

“Why not let him try?”

“Would I be of more use to you if he succeeded?” Cas snaps before he could think and looks over to Dean again. The hurt in his eyes not gone unnoticed, but the pending answer in them tugged on his heart.

“It’s not about you being useful. It’s about you being you,” he replies in his defensive tone.

Cas sighs and looks back down to his hands. When he first lost his ability to fly it felt a lot like imprisonment. Human transportation is slow and tedious. Dean’s music and rambling did pass the time rather pleasantly, and he will admit that he does like his off key singing, enjoys it even, however it was no comparison to being able to “zap” places in a matter of milliseconds. The freedom to go anywhere in the universe at anytime whenever he wanted. Even after all these years, driving still makes him feel claustrophobic at times, something that will still probably take a while to get used to.

“Cas, you got to know you’re not here to be useful right?” Cas looks back up at him. The frown set in his brows mimicing the slight tinge of panic and worry in his voice.

Cas squints his eyes and frowns a little himself, “Of course I do,” and looks back down at his lap, “that was unfair of me to say, I apologise.”

“Good,” Dean says rather shortly.

“Besides,” Dean starts again, bumping their shoulders together, “I hated being zapped places anyways.”

Cas chuckles a little at his response, remembering Dean’s complaints of not being able to poop after they travelled together, or the uneasiness he felt in his stomach, or the one time his ear didn’t stop ringing for a whole day. Humans weren’t really designed for teleportation. But still, the weight of what he’s lost weighs heavily on his heart and mind. Always there in amongst the background noise. Deep down he knows he’s not kept around to be useful, but the guilt still lingers in the space between them whenever they have a long drive ahead, or rare ingredients to find for whatever spell they need.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“What for?”

“For telling Metatron where to find you and Sam…”

“But you didn’t…”

Cas turns to him then, “but I would have. I almost had. And for that, I am sorry.”

“Cas-”

“No Dean. I think about that moment all too often. The pain is something I will never forget, but I would have never forgiven myself had something happened to you because of my wrong doings… again.”

Dean didn’t try to protest again. Instead he places his hand over Cas’. It wasn’t until then he realises how tightly he had clenched them together. He allowed himself to relax a little, the warmth and slight clamminess of Dean’s touch grounding him.

“Can I see?” Deans voice, barely above a whisper, breaks through their silence.

“What?” Cas asks, more shocked that Dean would even want to see his broken wings than he is that he asked at all.

A blush fills Dean’s face faintly as he pulls his hand away but in spite of his obvious embarrassment he asks again, “can I see them?”

“I… it’s- they’re not… visually appealing…” he says, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat, “I don’t think you’ll be able to see them anyway…”

“So?” Dean asks, pleading green eyes begging Cas to fulfil his request.

Cas’s heart beat heavier and faster in his chest, his stomach turned a little making him feel slightly nauseated but he stood before he could talk himself out of it, because how could he deny Dean anything?

“Fine, but not here. I need more space…” and leads the way out of his room and down the hallway towards the garage.

“More space…?” He hears Dean mumble behind him.

Sam and Jack were no longer in the common areas, and for that he was thankful. Between Jack’s sympathetic need to help, and Sam’s guilt filled eyes, he’d rather not have to face either of them.

Cas opens the door to the garage and lets Dean in first. As he closes the door after him as Dean turns the lights on, but Cas immediately turns them back off, plunging the room into complete darkness, “dude?”

“No lights,” Cas says walking passed Dean towards the impala.

“Then how will you even se-”

Dean stops abruptly as Cas turns the headlights of the impala on, plunging the room into a soft yellow glow. He turns around to face him, still standing at the door.

Dean, after a moment of adjustment, makes his way over with a confused frown on his face, “oh, yeah, sure, we can’t use the free electricity, but yeah, let’s drain baby’s battery,” he mumbles under his breath, but Cas can hear it regardless of his volume.

“Humans cannot perceive an angels true form, as you already know, but you can see the shadows…” he starts, shrugging off his trench coat, folding it neatly and places it on the hood of the car.

“Shadows?” Dean asks, arms crossed while he watches Cas. He shrugs off his suit jacket and ignores the fluttering in his stomach as Dean’s eyes track his every move.

“Yes, Dean, you will only be able to see the shadows they create, not how they actually look,” he folds the jacket up neatly too and starts undoing his tie.

“Wait, Cas, hang on,” Dean says now standing in front of him, “are you-? I was asking about your scars…”

Cas freezes, stomach dropping, his fingers still on the knot of his tie, and looks into Dean’s eyes. A wave of embarrassment floods through him and warms his face and chest, definitely reddening.

“You were willing to show me your wings?” He asks incredulously, as if it’s the most sacred thing that Cas could do for him. And it kind of is. Exposing himself this willingly, and openly, is kind of intimate. He has never voluntarily showed anyone or any angel his wings without the intent of intimidating them. He imagines this is how humans would feel when they are perceived completely naked for the first time, excited but terrified all at once.

“I-” he tries to speak but his voice cracks, stopping him. How could he not have understood what Dean was asking of him? Does Dean even realise how profound it is for him to show him his wings? Would he even appreciate the weight of such an act?

“Cas,” he says breathlessly and my goodness does Cas love the way his name sounds that way, “Isn’t this… a big deal?”

Cas swallows the lump in his throat and continues undoing his tie, more so as something for his hands to do instead of standing still and awkward, “…yeah.” He says pulling the fabric from around his neck and rolls it up in his hands.

“You… are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to do this…” Dean says taking the tie out of his hands and leaning into his line of sight to catch his eyes.

Cas takes a breath and looks Dean up and down, “I trust you,” he says slowly and takes the folded tie back from Dean and places it with his other clothes, beginning to undo the buttons to his shirt.

He untucks the fabric from his pants to reach the last button and shrugs himself out of the sleeves, catching the way Dean averts his gaze when he notices Cas looking at him.

A slight flush fills Dean’s cheeks as he awkwardly runs his fingers through his hair and down to the back of his neck, “well… what do you need?”

Cas grabs him by the elbow and pulls Dean along to the front of the car, standing back to the hood between the headlights, “your patience.” Is all he says as he turns to walk towards the empty wall a few meters in front of the car, but Dean grabs a hold of his arm before he could walk away.

“Jesus, Cas,” is all he says and Cas can’t help but tense, knowing he’s looking at the pair of pink parallel scars that run down from just below his shoulder to half way down his back. From what Cas could see by looking in the bathroom mirror, they’re thick and viscous, and were nearly impossible to heal due to the angelicness of the wound.

Dean drops his grip on him and Cas takes it as his cue to continue on, so he does, ignoring the heat in his face and tingling where Dean held him.

He stands about a meter in front of the wall, just enough space for the shadows to appear higher than his body so Dean could actually see them, and kneels to the ground. He sits on his feet and place his hands on his thighs and hangs his head low, he doesn’t want to see the look on Dean’s face when he realises just how broken he really is.

So he closes his eyes and relaxes his upper body and summons his grace. He takes a moment to prepare himself before imagining his wings unfolding and extending wide, like a big stretch first thing in the morning.

His left wing opens easily, smoothly and wide. His right, however, cracks a little like the popping of the knuckles in his fingers, and pinches at the joint before expanding out. Cas only winces slightly as a shock of pain runs down the bone and into his shoulder blade as he stretches it out for the first time in months. A wave of instant relief washes over him as he lengthens them both wide and high and displays them for Dean.

A gasp in front of him has him squeezing his eyes shut and his stomach stirring. He knows they’re not pretty to look at. His right has no feathers left, just soft fur like skin covering the bone. It’s bent in the middle where the bone was forcefully snapped, and a couple of inches shorter at the end where Metatron’s followers had begun to amputate it. His left one, however, has a couple of feathers that have slowly begun to grow back along the tip of his wing, some long, some very short and some of them fluffy. Most of them fall out after a few weeks of growth, keeping their length short. Some have fallen out now as he’s opened them up, the floor to his left littered with white gold specs of a fur like substance, almost like dust, in the reflection of the lights.

The burning returns behind his eyelids and his heart stutters in his chest. Time feels like it moves far too slow as Cas kneels on the ground before Dean, as bare as an angel can be before a human. He keeps his head low and his eyes clenched until Dean whispers, “Castiel,” into the thickness of the air between them.

He can’t help but look up at Dean through his tear filled eyes at the echo of his full name on Dean’s lips. A name he hasn’t heard Dean call him since the angels fell. A name that, he’s been called for centuries, all of a sudden sounds foreign to his own ears.

But Dean’s eyes don’t meet his, they dart from his left to his right, taking in what little of his true from he can see. Wide, and curious, and beautiful green eyes sparkling in the refraction of light coming from Castiel’s grace.

He bows his head again and mutters low on his breath, “I did say they are not pleasing to observe.”

“No,” Dean says earnestly. Cas doesn’t lift his head when he hears Dean’s boots on the floor treading closer his way. Not even as Dean kneels on the floor in front of him. But two hands cup his cheeks ever so gently, as if he were made of glass, and slowly lifts his head up to meet his gaze. This close, Cas can see the blue of his own eyes shining back at him through Dean’s, bright and blue and…

“No, they’re beautiful,” Dean declares breathlessly.

Cas’s mouth opens slightly in astonishment as his eyes well up and his vision blurs softly.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean whispers as the tears fall silently from Cas’s eyes, down his cheeks, and into the palm of Dean Winchester’s hands, “thank you,” he adds and the admiration in Dean’s voice makes it harder for Cas to keep himself together, as a soft sob escapes his lips.

Dean wipes away his eyes with the pads of his thumb before pulling his hands away to rest on his own thighs and Cas looses his breath at the sight of the righteous man on his knees before him; open, and authentic, and nothing but the purest of intentions.

“Dean…” Cas starts but doesn’t know what to say, or how to express his gratitude.

Dean shakes his head, “no, Cas. You don’t have to say anything,” he says in a low hushed tone, his eyes flicking back up to the broken one.

“…Does it… hurt?” He asks timidly.

Cas nods slowly, “A little…”

Dean nods at that and squints at the shadow, brows deepening ever so slightly.

“What is it?” Cas asks tilting his head to the side, trying to get a better read on him.

“No-nothing. I- I can kinda see ‘em,” he stutters still squinting.

Cas squirms a little under the scrutiny, “how do you mean…?”

“There’s a…” he pauses, perhaps trying to find the right words, “A-a shimmer? I guess? Kinda like.. looking through water…” he says pinching his eyes as if focusing too hard put strain on them.

Cas couldn’t help but smile tenderly at the man before him. Very rare is it that a human can see an angels true form. Even a slight peak at such a being will burn the eyes right out of their socket, melting the surrounding tissue and vessels. He’s not sure whether it has to do with Dean being the chosen vessel himself, or their profound bond, but a part of him isn’t even surprised at all that Dean can see that much. He wonders if maybe he could perceive more…

“Try and touch them?” Cas suggests quietly.

Dean gapes at him, “what?”

Cas blushes and adverts his gaze down to his hands, “I don’t know if you can… but you may try.”

He chances a look back up to Dean’s face, staring mesmerised back at him, “You sure?”

Cas can only nod his encouragement. He watches Dean process his request, the way he licks his lips before gulping and taking a deep breath as he glances up at Cas’ unharmed wing. And then ever so slowly, almost like if he moved too fast he would scare Cas away, he reaches his hand up. Cas doesn’t think anything would happen, maybe a slight ripple in the current, or a slight rush of wind as he passes through the ‘shimmer’ but when Dean’s fingertips graze the surface of delicate skin, Cas gasps. Dean’s pulls his hand back suddenly and almost like an electric shock running through his body, Cas squints his eyes closed as the most intense wave of pleasure coursed a through him. He clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut, and steadies his breathing.

“Cas!” Dean calls out but to Cas it sounds distant and muffled. Dean calls for him again and Cas snaps his eyes open, Dean’s hand on his shoulder, the other on his knee. He hadn’t noticed he had put his hands on him, and now his face is mere inches from his, “hey, what the hell, man?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs shaky and a little panicked, “I didn’t think anything would happen,” he admits sheepishly.

“Are you okay?” Dean pulls himself back but his eyes don’t leave his face, worried for what might happen if he looks away.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” Cas gives Dean a once over. He appears to be fine…

“Yeah, no, I’m good, I thought I hurt you…” he admits and Cas sighs in relief, glad no harm came to Dean.

“No, no it didn’t hurt…” he says, confused, remembering what he felt… “it was…” electric? Chilling? “…overwhelming…” he settles on.

Dean nods, still not entirely convinced.

“I would like for you to try again.”

“Oh- n-no, no way,” Dean says moving to stand, but Cas reaches out, his hand grabbing his thigh stopping him in his tracks, “Please,” but the sudden movement causes Cas’s wings to flow with the movement making him wince and grunt in pain, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, at the ache running down the right side of his body.

“Cas-”

“I’m okay. I just moved to quick,” he says slowly pulling back, Dean still watching his every move.

“Cas I- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wont,” he says assuredly sitting back up straight.

Dean still looks unconvinced though, his brows frowned in a deep, worried, line, jaw clenched, eyes wide and watching, “stop me if I do.” It’s not a question, but a demand. He’s telling him to stop him, knowing that if he asks, Cas would probably let him go on even if it hurts. So Cas nods his agreement and braces himself, trying to keep his body relaxed, expecting the sensations this time to come.

He keeps his eyes opened this time as Dean’s hand reaches out, trembling ever so slightly, and pauses right before he makes contact. They lock eyes and Cas can see the anxiety, plain as day, in Dean’s. He gives him the smallest upturn of his lips, encouraging him as gently as he can to continue. He hears Dean suck in a breath before ever so slowly reaching forward again until his fingertips, in a feather like touch, graze Cas’s skin ever so lightly. A feeling, almost like a tickle, dances on the skin where his fingers sit before it bolts like a shiver down his spine, soft but intense, new, and unfamiliar.

Cas shudders at the feeling, as Dean applies more pressure, still soft, still gentle, and strokes up just a little. Cas can feel the feathers pull and turn under Dean’s fingertips and it sends an almost feverish feeling down his wing and into his chest. Cas can’t help but gasp at the same time Dean exhales a, “woah.” His eyes begin to prick in the corners, and his breathing picks up pace as his grace begins to quiver, a slight tremor forming throughout his body. He squeezes his eyes shut as to not blind Dean by the bright white light glowing from within them, as a faint running softly echoes throughout the garage.

Dean pulls his hand back nervously, “hey,” he says softly, “what’s happening?”

“Sorry,” Cas whispers, tensing, trying to regain control over his grace before his reaction accelerates further gaining the attention of the other occupants of the bunker. His fists clench hard against his thighs, the muscles in his arms so tense they feel like they’re burning. He tries to focus on breathing but his body feels heavy, almost like he’s being crushed. The air feels thick, as if he’s underwater, though he can feel his body shaking, struggling to contain him. He mutters a few words of Enochian low to himself repeatedly in an attempt ground himself, but it’s not until Dean’s hands, one on his right shoulder, another on his left thigh just above his knee squeeze him gently that he can feel his body calming down, relaxing once again.

“Sorry,” Cas whispers again, his face warm and wet. He wipes at his cheek and looks at his hand, expecting a crimson streak of blood, but it’s just water, tears. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying… again. He had never done such a thing in front of Dean, or ever really, and now he’s up to number three for the day alone.

“What just happened?” Dean asks pulling back and giving Cas back his space.

Cas wipes his face dry and folds his wings back away, cringing again as his broken one collapses weakly into itself and tucks away. His timing couldn’t be more perfect, as the door to the garage swings open, and in storms Sam with an Angel Blade gripped firmly in his hand and Jack standing ready behind him, “what the hell was that?” He demands walking further into the garage, looking around. Cas’ stomach sinks with anxiety, and nervous disappointed that he had created enough of a disturbance to concern Sam and Jack.

Dean stands up then, leaving Cas still kneeling on the ground. He takes the opportunity to lean into his shadow, blocking the headlights from his view.

“Um… what’re you guys doing?” Jack asks curiously taking in the sight of a half naked kneeling Cas in front of Dean.

“Nothing,” Dean says in his usual gruff macho tone that implied ‘none of your damn business’ as he steps to the side to block the boy’s view of Cas.

Sam raises his eyebrows at the sight of them, and what a sight that must be. It doesn’t help that Cas is flushed and a little out of breath either…

“Are we interrupting sex?” Jack asks amusedly, and honestly, Cas can’t even blame him for coming to the conclusion. That doesn’t stop him from leaning from behind Dean’s stance to frown at the kid, squinting his eyes slightly as if to say, ‘why would you even ask such a thing.’

Sam scoffs as Dean chokes and sputters for a response other than a defensive, “No.”

“Then what are you doing?” Sam asks chuckling amusedly, the same smirk still plastered on his face as he watches Dean squirm under his gaze.

Dean stammers for a response, clearly uncomfortable sharing with Sam what they were actually doing. Cas takes the opportunity to slowly stand from his position on the floor, brushing off the dust and dirt from his hands onto his pants. He waves his hands over his knees and within a matter of seconds, his pants are clean again.

“An exercise in trust,” Cas says walking to meet Dean at the hood of the car, reaching around behind him for his shirt.

“And the sounds just now?” Sam asks, body language becoming defensive.

“Me,” is all Cas offers up, shrugging his shirt back on and begins buttoning it. It’s mundane tasks such as this when he’d rather participate in the experience of doing it himself rather than using his powers.

Sam scoffs at his response, looking away from him, towards Jack, and shakes his head, “fine. Yeah. Okay. Good. Well just… we’ll leave you to it…”

Cas only feels slightly bad as Sam gestures for Jack to follow him, exiting the garage.

Jack looks between Cas and Dean, and smiles cheekily before waving them goodbye and following Sam out of the room.

Dean sighs in relief beside him and turns to face Cas, running a hand through his hair, “jeez, did you have to be so short with him?” He walks over to the door, leaving Cas still buttoning his top, and flicks the overhead lights on.

“Would you rather I have told him what we were doing?” Cas asks, tucking in his shirt to his pants when Dean rejoins him and turns the Impala’s lights off. He did not answer him, though Cas knew that he wouldn’t when he asked it.

Instead he deflects, “can’t you just mojo yourself back into those,” he asks handing Cas his tie.

“Thank you. I prefer the manual labour,” he wraps the tie around his neck, only a little confused on which way it’s supposed to face before the knot is tied, deciding that he doesn’t really care which way it faces, before tucking one side over the other and looping it through.

Dean huffs, and Cas knows he’s watching him mess up the knot. Suddenly aware of the eyes on him, he looses his focus and decides to undo it and mojo it on later.

“Dude, give it here,” he offers and gently swats Cas’ hands out of the way. Cas looks down at Dean’s hands, watching as he carefully measures the length of the fabric, pulling the thicker side down much further than Cas had it before crisscrossing them.

He lifts his head, looking up at Dean then, giving him a little more room at the collar to work with. This close, he could see everything so clearly, so perfectly. How long and fine his eyelashes are, how they perfectly dust the tops of his cheekbones as he focuses on the task at hand. He could see all the different shades of green that made up the iris of Dean’s beautiful eyes. All of the individual hairs that built the perfect stubble across Dean’s jaw. The slight dryness of Dean’s lips and all the fine lines and wrinkles in them. He could practically count all the freckles that glitter Dean’s face. Of course he’s familiar with every single one of them, but it’s still beautiful to be able to carefully examine them this closely. Beautiful. Dean had called him that earlier. And it had made his heart yearn for more, more of Dean, more of their connection, just… more.

Dean clears his throat then and a light flush of pink begins to spread across his cheeks and nose, as he taps Cas’ chest, signifying that he was done. Cas blinks out of his little daze and lookes down at the perfectly tied knot, “thank you.”

Dean smiles a little awkwardly and chuckles nervously taking a couple of steps back to lean against the side of his car.

Cas finishes dressing himself, shrugging on his jacket, followed by his coat and tucking his hands in his pockets and joins Dean, leaning against the frame next to him.

“So uh….” Dean starts, and chuckles nervously, cutting himself off.

Castiel remains silent next to him, allowing him the space to find the words on his own.

“How… what was it like?”

Cas glances at Dean beside him, face flushed, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other. He doesn’t look at him, just stares down at the floor in front of them.

Cas smiles to himself and looks ahead, admiring the vintage cars in front of them, “good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cas sighs. He could practically feel the relief rolling off of Dean.

“So the…” he trails off waving one of his hands in front of him. Cas frowns at his hand, not really sure what he’s asking him but patiently waits for him to continue.

“The shaking… and the ringing…?”

“Yes,” Cas says and nods, looking at the ground in front of him. He feels his face and chest warm as the feelings rush back through him momentarily.

“No one has ever touched them before. It was quite sensitive… overstimulating, if you will.”

“So not painful?”

“No, not at all. Just… overwhelming.”

“Good… that’s… that’s good.”

“It was.”

Silence falls between them, but neither of them move. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Dean looks around the garage, his eyes darting from one object to another, yet he makes no effort to move.

“Would you like some time alone?” He asks, not sure if he’s made Dean uncomfortable or not… He’s gotten pretty well at reading a situation but sometimes, in moments like these, he’s not sure what the appropriate social protocol is.

“No!” He says quickly followed by a nervous laugh, “ah… no. But I think I need to get out for a bit…” he admits pushing himself off the car.

“Come for a drive?” He says patting the roof of his car, leaving his arm resting along the frame, “she needs fuel, and we need snacks.”

Cas nods as Dean opens the door and folds himself in.

Cas takes a breath before pushing himself off and joining him in the vehicle as Dean turns the key and she rumbles to life.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types away at it whilst the garage opens. Once she’s finished, his shoves his phone back in his pocket and explains, “let Sam know, just in case,” and they make their way through the tunnel, down a few side streets and onto the open road.

With the windows down, whatever tape in the deck turned down low, and the comfortable silence between them, Cas doesn’t feel so trapped. The wind in his face and through his hair feels rather nice, refreshing even, cool against his flushed skin.

Dean beside him looks much more relaxed too, although, he usually always did when they were on the road. His fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the door, half out the window. He looks at peace almost. And he drives like this the short distance to the fuel station.

Cas gets out of the car with Dean and leans against the side while Dean fills it, “I’m thinking jerky, popcorn, and pork rinds. What do you want?” Cas thinks about it for a moment… as a human he enjoyed the tastes of sweet foods, not the greesy stuff or salty stuff Dean liked. But now that he’s himself again, food doesn’t really taste the same… nor does it elicit the same emotional enjoyment… As a human he could ignore the individual molecules, but now it’s hard to get past it. However, their last movie night, the sweet popcorn Dean made him try was rather delicious.

“What was the popped corn we had when we watched the movie with the robots?”

Dean rolls his eyes at him and groans as he hangs the pup back up, “transformers, dude! And it was kettle korn, the caramel flavour I think. Is that what you want?”

“Please.”

They walk in together, Dean stuffing his arms with different flavoured jerkies and popcorn and chips. He makes Cas grab two soft drinks from the fridge and a no sugar flavoured water for Sam and at the counter he grabs a container of plum pie and a salad bowl.

Their items are handed back to them in one big bulging bag that thankfully doesn’t bust as they walk back to the car.

“Wait Cas, before we leave,” Dean stops him just before they part ways to get into the car.

Cas turns to him, curious, but a little worried seeing the frown on his face.

He digs through his pocket and dangles the keys between them, “I want you to drive.”

Cas’ mouth and stomach drops a little in surprise, his heart thumping away heavily in his chest. Dean barely lets Sam drive the impala, and now he’s handing him the keys.

“Dean,” Cas starts but he’s at a loss for words.

“Seriously. You shared something so… so big with me and I want to do the same for you,” his cheeks flush a soft shade of rosey pink at the admission and all Cas can do is stare at him gobsmacked.

“I mean… it’s not really the same thing… but this is all I have,” he says, beginning to backtrack, “and I trust you, too, Cas. I do. So please,” he jingles the keys and Cas reluctantly takes them.

“You don’t have to do this,” is all he says as Dean already walks to the passenger door.

Cas looks down at the silver keychain in his hand and looks back up at Dean who isn’t paying him any attention, or trying not to anyway. He nods to himself and takes his new place in the drivers seat, the weight of what this means to Dean not lost on him. Cas checks his mirrors, only having to adjust the rear view, and turns the key. The car rumbles to life once more, purring under Castiel’s hands. He grips the wheel tight and slowly rolls it out of the station, carful to angle it going down the drive so he doesn’t scrape it before slowly accelerating once on the road.

“You can loosen the death grip,” Dean chuckles from beside him.

Cas becomes aware of how tense he is and wipes his clammy hands, one by one, on his thighs. He adjust his grip and rolls his shoulder slightly, trying to loosen the anxiety in him.

“Sorry…”

“Why are you nervous?”

Cas glances over Dean’s way briefly, their eyes meeting for a slow second before he turns back to the road.

“I am not accustomed to driving and this is your prized possession,” he replies as if it answers all of Dean’s questions.

Dean chuckles softly again.

They pull at a red light and Cas is glad for the break. His hands had started to become sweaty and tight around the wheel again. He wipes them on his pants and returns them as the light flicks to green. As he takes off, a vehicle flies past in front of him, running the red. Cas gasps and slams on the breaks, Dean barely having enough time to brace himself against the dash as Cas narrowly stops in time before they are hit. Cas can’t move. There’s a vehicle behind him, honking, but Cas is struck still, his breathing heavy and hard in his lungs, body rigid.

“Cas, you gotta go buddy,” Dean says to him, but it’s muffled and distant. The car eventually drives around them, honking as they continue, but Cas still can’t move.

Dean gets out and walks around to his side, “shuffle over,” he says but Cas can’t move his hands from the wheel.

Dean reaches in front of him and puts it in park and nudges his shoulder, “move over,” he says again. He gently takes Cas’s hands off of the wheel which snaps Cas back into the moment. He clenches his fists a few times to loosen them up and slides into the passenger seat, his whole body hot and sweaty, uncomfortably so.

Dean drives them out of the intersection and pulls over after they’ve cleared it. He parks the car again and turns to Cas, one hand on his shoulder, the other still on the wheel, “we’re okay.”

Cas nods into his lap as the embarrassed tears well in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he voices again.

Cas nods into his lap again as a hand gingerly cups his cheek, gently moving his head so he can look at him.

“You are okay.”

Cas takes in a deep breath then and blinks away the tears. He refuses to cry in front of Dean Winchester one more time today.

“You did everything right. I’m not mad. You saved us from a wreck. Okay?”

‘His first near miss,’ he thinks as he huffs out a breath.

“Okay?” Dean presses once more.

“Okay,” Cas whispers back.

“Do you want to keep driving?”

Cas immediately shakes his head, “no. No thank you.”

“That’s okay… but when you feel confident again, we can try again.”

“No thank you,” Cas says turning away to face the passenger window.

Dean squeezes Cas’s shoulder before he turns back in his own seat and pulls them back onto the road, “yes. I have rebuilt this thing from the ground up more times than I can count. That back there, not your fault. And even if that dick did hit us, yes I would be pissed, but not at you. And I would have fixed it, okay. There’s been nothing wrong with my baby that I haven’t been able to fix, okay. So yes, maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but I want to share this with you, okay.”

Cas looks over at Dean then. The sincerity in his voice tugging on his heart.

“Please don’t let this discourage you,” he adds as they share a brief moment of eye contact. All Cas can do is watch Dean. He can’t speak, at a loss for words once more, so he just watches him. Watches his relaxed form even after their near miss, one hand on the wheel, and the other reaches over, palm down in front of Cas. He looks down at it confused but opens both of his anyway, not really sure what Dean’s looking for. Cas looks back over to him as Dean looks over at their hands quickly and takes Cas’ left hand in his, intertwining their fingers and holding on firmly. Cas does the same and he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips, a new heaviness swells in his chest.

They drive the rest of the way home like this, Dean only using one hand to park the car back in the garage, and Cas couldn’t help but be amazed at how easily Dean could reverse park one handed. Dean squeezes Cas’s hand as he turns the car off, but he doesn’t let go just yet.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Cas nods, his heart still beating erratically at their intertwined hold, although the feeling is nothing compared to what Dean does next. He squeezes Cas’s hand once more and lifts his hand to his lips. Cas gasps softly as Dean closes his eyes and places a gentle kiss on the back of Cas’s hand.

Dean chuckles nervously as he releases Cas’s hand, “I bet Sam’s waiting on us,” he says low and hushed, neither of them making an effort to move, Cas not wanting their time alone to come to an end. He did forget that it was Sam’s turn to pick what movie they were watching tonight. He never did find his choices interesting, but it would be worth it to spend the evening next to Dean.

They share one last sweet smile before Dean sighs, “come on,” and they join the boys who were already sat in the Dean cave, just about to start the movie without them. Jack on a beanbag to the left of the TV, Sam in the arm chair next to him, leaving Dean to sit in the other arm chair, and Cas takes residence with a pillow to sit on in front of Dean and between his legs. Sometime through the movie, Cas leans his head back against the seat, Dean’s hands running through his hair. He shuts his eyes, and focuses on the sensations, his breathing becoming even, and all thoughts pushed to the back of his brain. And though he may not technically be asleep, it’s as close to it as an angel could get, blessed to be at the hands of Dean Winchester.

#this was much longer than I anticipated #I just couldn’t stop #no one stopped me #they want to kiss so bad #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #destiel #cas dean #dean x castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack #one shot

158 notes · View notes

winwin17 · 12 days ago

Text

I want to talk about Legolas and singing. (Hang in there, because it starts out a little silly but turns meaningful.)

How many times do you think he just broke off into song during the Fellowship's quest? Well, one time he's like, "Let me sing you this song about Nimrodel!" He also sings to himself in the middle of the night when he's on watch. When the Three Hunters reunited with Merry and Pippin, they relax and smoke their pipes - except for Legolas, who lounges next to them, looking at the sky and singing softly to himself.

He sings to the horse of Rohan when it freaks out about the Paths of the Dead. He stops in the middle of recounting a story to the Hobbits, breaking off to sing a song about the lands they passed through, which feature in the account he's telling. When he goes to see Merry and Pippin in Minas Tirith, people watch curiously, not only because it was odd to see an Elf and Dwarf at ease with one another, but also "Legolas was fair of face beyond the measure of Men, and he sang an elven-song in a clear voice as he walked in the morning...." And then later he mentions that he hopes to bring some of his people to the region - but he gets distracted thinking about the river, which leads to the sea, and he wanders off singing to himself of the sea.

We know singing is important to all Elves, but it seems to me that Legolas randomly sings more than maybe the average Elf does. Maybe it's just because we get to see so much of him compared to some of the other Elves - but either way, I like to think this is his way of keeping his hope up.

Legolas is from Mirkwood, and not only that, he's a prince. He possibly remembers when his home was still called Greenwood, before the shadow of Sauron came over it. Being that Mirkwood was one of the last Elven realms preserved in Middle Earth, it must have grieved and angered the inhabitants to watch this evil befall. Years were spent trying to fight back the Shadow over Mirkwood. It stands to reason that Legolas had a significant role in that. No doubt he took this very personally, trying to defend and preserve his people and their beautiful realm. At times it seemed that the Shadow was driven back, only to return again. Among the Wise, it was highly suspected that Sauron would make another comeback and the age of the Elves in Middle Earth would be over.

And yet Legolas keeps singing. He sings folk songs from his people, he sings of beautiful lands far and wide, of ancient heroes who gained renown fighting the enemy. Maybe he even made his own songs, too. And in the face of the darkness, when it seemed the Shadow would swallow everything up, the only thing he could do to keep his courage was to keep singing. I'd like to think that's part of why he's developed the habit of just singing to himself sometimes. That, and the fact that he just likes to sing and express himself in song, and he possesses a buoyant spirit. But where did that come from? Is it just a personality trait, or something more, something fine-tuned in the Shadows of Mirkwood in defiance of Sauron?

When Legolas sings, it comes from a hard-bought hope cultivated by years of trial. Greenwood may become Mirkwood, but the Greenleaf is still green, and he's not about to let that change, though it takes him to a battle against all odds at the Black Gate itself. He, too, sings to remind himself that the Shadow is only a passing thing. It cannot vanquish the joy and hope and wonder at the beautiful things of the world that overflows at random moments. And that's why we love him, silly moments and all.

#lotr #lord of the rings #legolas #legolas greenleaf #lotr legolas #tolkien #hobbit #the hobbit #Sauron #Mirkwood #merry brandybuck #pippin took #gimli lotr #gimli #middle earth

115 notes · View notes

eyesofbong · 8 months ago

Text

Red Spider Lily ꕥ

art cred. @taak_CHOI on twitter/x

❀ pairing. Chrollo Lucilfer x Founding!Spider Reader

❁ warning. mention of death. Just pure angst ♡

✿ word count. 1.5k

✽ sypnosis. unrequited love, is still love isn't it just as beautiful?

A/N: This piece was inspired by the random red spider lily I found this morning, blooming in the middle of my yard right on time for September—its season. It was particularly strange since I’ve never had one grow before. (My dog tried to eat it.) Also, the chain I’ve had since I was a child randomly broke a couple of nights ago after being indestructible for years! I’m taking it all as a sign. side eye...

The crimson flowers danced in the wind, their delicate petals reaching out, as if grasping for something lost in the void. Red spider lilies—each bloom a splash of scarlet against the gray, lifeless earth. They thrived here, in this forsaken field, where death had long claimed dominion. You stood among them, feeling the chill of the breeze slip through the narrow spaces between the petals, carrying with it the faint, sweet scent of decay—a cruel reminder that beauty and death often walked hand in hand, inseparable, like lovers bound by some twisted fate.

For a long moment, there was only the wind and the rustle of flowers. You didn’t notice him at first. Not until his voice, soft as a whisper, cut through the silence, slicing into your thoughts like a blade you hadn’t seen coming.

“They say these flowers bloom along the Sanzu River,” Chrollo murmured, each word caressing the air like a secret. “Guiding souls to their next life. A fitting backdrop, don’t you think?”

You turned slowly, as if moving through water, your heart stumbling in your chest. And there he was—Chrollo, standing at the edge of the field. His dark cloak fluttered slightly in the wind, like a shadow with its own life. He looked almost like one of the flowers, swaying in the breeze, a figure easily lost among the shifting light and shadows. He gazed intently at the sea of red, a faint smile playing on his lips, yet it never reached his eyes. Eyes dark and deep, like an abyss that promised to swallow you whole.

His expression was unreadable and distant, as if he were looking at something far away, something only he could see.

“I always thought their beauty was wasted on something so fleeting as death,” he continued, his gaze never wavering. “But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, yet they left you feeling hollow, like an echo of something you couldn’t quite grasp. There was a time when you knew that face so well, when every subtle shift in his expression, every flicker in his eyes, told you more than words ever could. But now, that face was a stranger’s—a mask you could no longer read, a portrait painted with shadows and cold light.

You longed for the warmth you once saw there, the softness that had made you believe in things you knew were impossible. His mind, once an open book, had become a locked room, the key stolen, leaving you stranded on the outside.

He stepped closer, and you felt the air shift around you, charged with something you couldn’t name. Your body tensed, muscles tightening as if preparing for a blow that never came. His fingers brushed against yours, so lightly it might have been a dream, as he handed you a single red spider lily. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, an electric jolt that numbed the ache you carried inside—the yearning you kept hidden, even from yourself.

The flower trembled in your hands, and you held it as if it were made of glass, fragile enough to shatter at the slightest pressure. It felt like a lifeline, a thread binding you to this world, to him. To everything you had ever wanted but knew you could never have. Because this was love to you. A quiet, desperate love with no place in words. A love that thrived in shadows, in stolen glances, in moments when his hand brushed yours and sent your heart racing.

You were content to hide it, to bury it deep where he would never see, because you knew he didn’t need to know. You’d rather pretend. Pretend that this was enough—that his presence, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air, was all you needed.

You looked down at the flower in your hand. It was small and fragile, its petals a deep, crimson red, like drops of blood on bone. It was nothing compared to the treasures you had stolen for him, the riches you had laid at his feet, hoping for a smile, a word, a touch. And yet, it was everything. This single, fleeting gesture—a flower plucked from the earth, handed to you without thought or care—was worth more than anything. The fact that he had given it to you, even with such a cold, detached expression, made your heart flutter like the wings of a dying bird.

Your leader had given you a flower. You could survive on that alone, on the knowledge that, for one brief moment, he had seen you and thought of you.

This was love to you, and you were content with it. Hiding your heart from him because you didn’t need to tell him. You’d rather pretend. Because your love was different—silent, enduring, untouched by the light of day. A love that thrived in quiet spaces, where hope and heartache intertwined like the roots of a tree. You would rather pretend, because its purity was its own reward. It wasn’t about wanting something in return. You knew he would never love you back—not in the way you loved him. And that was fine. You had accepted it long ago.

Your love was about loving him so deeply that you were willing to feel everything, even the pain of knowing he would never feel the same. You had become accustomed to that pain; it had become part of you, a constant companion, a reminder that you were alive, that you could love, even if that love would never be returned.

Your love had survived against all odds, even after he had led the massacre of the Kurta. It was a love that filled the spaces between words left unsaid, in looks that lingered too long, in the silent longing that never truly faded. He had always been out of reach, even when you were children. Always slipping through your fingers like smoke, like a dream you couldn’t quite hold onto.

Perhaps that’s why you clung to him so tightly, why you adopted his ideas as your own, why you never questioned his decisions. You would do anything for him. Anything, if it meant you could stay by his side just a little longer, even if that light were cold and indifferent.

Your love was both a gift and a burden, a testament to the heart’s ability to love fiercely without the promise of anything in return. Pakunoda had seen it—the way your love consumed you, the way it burned like a slow, smoldering fire that refused to go out.

“Can you make these feelings go away?” You had whispered to her once, hiding your face in her shoulder, her arms the only sanctuary you knew. “Can you make it stop?”

The sharp pain of the chain cutting into your heart brought you back to the present, tearing you away from that memory. Blood warmed your lips, pooling at the corners of your mouth, and the world around you blurred into a mess of color and sound. You clung to the lily he had given you, cradling it close even as the chains tightened around you, threatening to crush it in your grasp.

You didn’t blame Chrollo. Not for your pain, not for your death. These were choices you had made willingly, with your eyes open and your heart laid bare. You would make them again, a thousand times over, if it meant you could have this—a flower, a moment, a breath in his presence.

The chain user was gone, and you felt the presence of the other Troupe members drawing nearer, their shouts growing fainter in your ears, echoes from a place you could no longer reach. You had seen all the signs. You had known. But still, you had chosen to believe. To pretend. Because it was easier than facing the truth.

Your vision blurred, but you felt him there, his arms around you, holding you close. For a moment, your heart surged with hope—a foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, he cared. That maybe, this time, he would say something—anything to make the pain go away.

Your fingers tightened around the withering red spider lily, its petals soft and fragile against your skin. Through blurry vision, your eyes searched his face, desperate for a sign. But all you found was the same unreadable mask, the same cold distance. The silence between you was suffocating, more painful than any wound.

In that silence, you finally understood—he would never love you the way you loved him. You were just another piece on his board, another pawn in his game.

“But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your grip weakened, and the flower slipped from your fingers, its petals scattering like the remnants of your heart.

So, you let go. Not just of the flower, but of the love that had been your constant torment. You released it into the wind, into the void between you, accepting the truth you had fought so hard to deny.

Maybe, as you crossed the Sanzu River, you would see the cities he burned—for you.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucifer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #hxh chrollo #phantom troupe #chrollo fanfic #chrollo angst #pakunoda

181 notes · View notes

drsbutmakeitspicy · 10 months ago

Text

(Hello! Brie from the future here! This 'series now have 4 parts, since tumblr delivers them randomly have the links here: part1 - part2(this one) - part3 - part4 )

In most of the Carcar fics that are stuck in my brain I always like to make Sainz Sr. a good Dad that may take some time to really understand that Carlos like men but never treats him bad or gives him the silent treatment.

Like in the last drabble I wrote ("Am I a human chair?")

Sainz Sr. Always asking Carlos "Will Oscar come with us for this travel/flight/trip?" In a way to say he wants Oscar around, wants to know the person his son is in love with. To the point of trying to understand Cricket 🏏 and even tried to teach Oscar some Spanish words (although some very specific ones without Carlos being around but nothing bad)

"It's not a bad word, right?"

"No no no, it's good! You wait to call him that when Reyes is around, ok?"

"But when?"

"You will know"

And then while having dinner in the Sainz' villa, Carlos goes to get the tiramisu from the fridge tells them from the kitchen that he can't find (be it a special bowl or place or something)

Carlos Dad puts the missing thing in front of Oscar and makes an amused expression.

'Oh, it's the sign' Oscar thinks and proceeds to say/yell: "It's in the table, Lindo."

He fews a bit embarrassed not knowing if he said it right or not, Reyes is looking at him giggling, god he wants the earth to open and swallow him. Soon a Ferrari-Red faced Carlos walk in, putting the tiramisu on the table in such a way that the glass make a loud sound. He apologizes and grab Oscar wrist bringging him to the kitchen. Oscar is in trouble.

"Oh god I'm sorry, your dad refused to tell me what it means and asked me to-"

"No no no! It- it is a positive word, can you say it again?"

"...uh Lindo?" Carlos chuckles a bit at Oscars confused expression.

"Not like that! You make it sound like it's a question." He brings Oscar's wrist to his lips, kissing it.

"But what does it mean??? I don't want to keep saying, you're all red! Am I saying dick or something??" He whisper the last part, while pulling Carlos close to him with his free arm around his waist.

"Some couples use it as a petname. It means handsome." Carlos breaks eye contact "I didn't understand at first why couples did it, it sounded so dumb. But now I get it." Carlos looks beautiful in mix of the warm light from the dinning room and the neutral white from the kitchen. The pink on his cheeks, god he sure is Lindo.

"I really want to kiss you right now."

Carlos smiles as he pulls him in, they kiss slow and sweet, nothing too much, Oscar is still traumatized about last time they got caught making out, Reyes teased him for weeks, Sainz Sr kept making comments about wanting grandkids.

#carcar #ficsicantfinish #oscarlos #carloscar #5581 #AMIAHUMANCHAIR

150 notes · View notes

neiptune · 4 months ago

Note

hello santa neiptune for your holiday servings i think christmas pudding with either shoyo + a prompt 6 (family invited an old crush/first love to a dinner party) or sunsrin with prompt 19 ("I'm going to buy/make the worst secret Santa gift humanly possible") or atsumu with prompt 13 (neighbourhood festive decoration competition becomes dangerously competitive) smooch smooch smooch smooch

rintaro suna x I'm going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible

“Shut up everyone, it’s time!”, Atsumu’s comically authoritarian tone swallows the chatter, the living room of his apartment growing silent.

“Why can’t we pick who we want to get a gift for?”, Aran grumbles from his end of the couch. The setter frowns.

“Because I think none of you assholes would pick me”.

“Whatever gave that away”, Suna clicks his tongue. A soft, empty stocking collides with his face.

“Yer picking first!”, Atsumu holds the old dunkin donuts box under his nose, shaking it slightly to further shuffle the folded pieces of paper in it.

“I’m going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible”, Rintaro, ever the grinch, grumbles as slender fingers randomly draw a name.

“Rin, you’re supposed to look at it later!”, you lightly elbow him in the ribs but he pulls back, avoiding the jab. The only sign of something flashing across his deadpan features is a slight twitch of the brow as he reads the name he pulled out. Then it’s gone, small piece of paper tucked safely into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Your turn”, Atsumu brings the box to you with a grin. You know he hopes you draw his name, you’re notoriously the best gift giver of the group and he wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the Blue Lock themed calendar Osamu got him the previous year, especially with that insufferable Rin dude occupying the page dedicated to his birth month.

“I hope it’s me”, Osamu crosses his fingers from the other side of the room, where he’s resting his back against the fireplace. You chuckle, keep the small piece of paper in your closed fist as you patiently wait for everyone else to draw their names.

The boys make a whole spectacle out of unfolding the pieces of paper, Atsumu the most teased one between whistles, oohs and ahhs. You make sure not to let the small pang of disappointment shine through your smile: you’re happy it’s Kita, you love Kita. You just would’ve loved for it to be Rin more.

The designated gift exchange day is a week later, right on christmas eve. The anxiety churning in your stomach is suffocating because why would you even get something for him too? All you had to do was pick a nice gift for Shinsuke, the easiest person to please on planet earth. But now there are two extra nicely wrapped presents under the tree in your living room, one of them will make you look like a complete dumbass because there won’t be any logical explanation to justify an additional gift. Atsumu will never shut up about it, like, ever. Fuck.

You’re abruptly pulled away from your thoughts when the doorbell rings, the sound making you jump. Confusion is still written all over your features when you open the door, not expecting any guest or delivery.

“Hey”, Rintaro tosses you a tiny smile to balance the hesitancy out.

“Rin”, surprised, you blink a few times, “you okay?”.

“Yeah. Can I come in?”.

“Of course!”.

He takes off his shoes and slowly steps into your apartment, cheeks unusually flushed courtesy of the cold outside.

“What’s that?”, you curiously peek at the bag he holds in his hand while he walks to your couch and you gingerly trail behind him.

“I’m your secret santa”, he clears his throat, “didn’t wanna give this to you in front of everyone. Don’t make it weird”.

You sit next to him with mirth swarming in stupidly bright eyes. Suna feels his palms getting clammy.

“So you wanted to give me the worst gift humanly possible… early?”.

“Exactly. Here”, he hands you the small paper bag, “you’re welcome”.

“You’re a dick”, you giggle, unable to disguise the affection in your voice.

Inside the bag there are two numbered envelopes. You open the first, smaller one.

“What the…?”, it’s a regular yellow post-it, with a handwritten note.

Congratulations on your hardly earned free time. Make the most of it :)

“Check the other one”, Suna indicates the remaining envelope.

“I’m confused”.

The second gift is… handmade coupons for messy, scribbled options: concert, one meal, roadtrip, win an argument, breakfast.

“You get two coupons. I kinda already have tickets for your favorite band”.

“But”, your throat feels dry, “I don’t… I have to work?”.

“You don’t. I emailed your boss, got you some time off, something you never would’ve done for yourself”, Suna looks away, inscrutable as always. Your heart slams harder against your ribcage.

��Rin”.

He meets your gaze and you offer a smile.

“I got you something too”.

thank you for trusting my writing, hope you enjoy! happy holidays mwah

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou x you #holiday servings event

56 notes · View notes

ghostgirl-22 · 9 days ago

Note

Making myself cry thinking about a last day on earth/nuclear apocalypse artrick au... spending their last night on earth together....ohh my heart...

Edit: updating to say anon i do appreciate this prompt! it just also made me work through my own shit.

TW: impending character death, they’re together at the end of the world, basically what it says in the ask, if you can’t deal with sad things like me… scroll away…

—-

In my head it’s like Patrick’s really scared but he’s trying to keep himself calm, keep it light because they can’t both fall apart. Last 24 hours and they’ve done every randomly regular thing they could think of doing for the last time. Everything from eating ice cream for breakfast. All the flavors. To going through Patrick’s record collection for all the songs they long to hear one last time. Art’s sobbing now. All of it becoming too real. Patrick tries to calm him down with silly nihilistic jokes comments like, “Well at least you’re not gonna die alone.”

It works… at least a little bit. Art smiles… eyes going small and sparkly with tears. Patrick thinks he’ll miss that the most. More than hamburgers and tennis, more than movies and sex, more than his mom and dad. Art’s smile.

He feels a lump desperate to escape his throat. He takes another shot and swallows it down. Pours more in Art’s glass and watches him copy.

“Hey you know what?” Patrick says quietly.

“What?”

”I heard kissing slows down time.”

And for all that Patrick earns another tearful smile. Art leans in close and presses their lips together, soft, wet with tears.

It works for a moment. For a moment it’s peaceful. Like a regular day. Ordinary. They have nothing but hours, days, years ahead of them and they can be together. But Patrick knows somehow that even forever will never be enough. That gives him comfort. And it makes him ache.

This is probably the last kiss. He swallows on tears. Art gasps and Patrick opens his eyes. Art is looking up. The sky reflected in his eyes makes it look tiny stars are dancing. Oddly beautiful given the circumstances. Patrick rests his hand on Arts. He gets to be with his favorite person at the end of forever. And Patrick doesn’t look up. He thinks it’s lovely to watch falling stars dancing in the bright blue eyes of the saddest most perfectly imperfect boy he’s ever known. If this is the last thing he ever sees… well then it’s all been fucking worth it.

#wrote this for the person that should have had so much more time #oh boy terrible thing to post on the anniversary but here ya go anyway #it’s okay I’m not in the algorithm #you wont even know im here

23 notes · View notes

cakeandpudding1 · 11 months ago

Text

Where the sun can't shine. Apollo×male!reader

Warnings : reader is a little too possessive, Forced marriage, stolkholm syndrome, (No rape included🤬) and yeah. Pictures aren't mine! Sorry if anything is too random, I had to randomly make stuff up. like the scythe, lore, and everything else cus I wrote this till 5am. 😭

About M/N. M/n = reader.

When zues was saved from the clutches of his father, he was being taken care of by his grandmother Gaia, with the young baby getting fed goats milk. Then, Gaia had sprouted a little seedling from the ground, supposed to grow into a mini apple tree, it's purpose was to bear fruit for the young boy. But, one day, the young zues accidentally threw up some of the milk onto the seedling. And to his surprise, the seedling had turned into a full grown young god, named (m/n). Since (m/n) was already matured, Gaia had decided to give him a purpose. To train and take care of zues alongside her until he was fully matured. When the time came for zues' to fight against his father, as well as freeing his siblings—Gaia swallowed (m/n) into the earth, to let him rest for a while until the titanomochy was finished. Once everything was settled, Gaia would release (m/n), letting him out of the earth after his long slumber, and back with the other gods/deity's. Making him one of the strongest beings.—the god of destruction, the title stolen from perses.

•

(m/n), as a forever young god who stopped aging by the time he turned 18, needed to find love as a young man. Until one faithful day, he found an incredibly beautiful god, Named "Apollo", one of Zues' sons.

"that's outrageous! You can't just do this!" A loud cry came from zues, yelling as Hermes calmly served you some desserts. Giving you a respectful nod that you politely returned. "what is there that is so outrageous to you, dear Zues?" You munched on one of the desserts sitting on the table, your eyes showing no signs of fear, or care.

"There had been multiple complaints from the humans about occuring earthquakes, typhoons, volcanic eruptions, and so on! You know something about this, don't you?!" The old man grunted angrily, his hands flying around in the air, a funny sight. "Perhaps I do." He whines at your nerve wreckingly collected response, which was something very impressive nonetheless, your ability to stay calm in the face of challenges was both amazing and annoying to your fellow gods.

"You haven't returned my scythe back to me, dear Zues. This is my way of letting out steam. If you just hadn't lent it to dear Ares over there...which he so thoughtfully broke..then maybe I wouldn't be so pissed right now." You sneered, giving a glaring look towards the trembling figure that sat near zues, clearly wrecking his head for a response.

"I-i'm sorry, mister (m/n) sir! I accidentally just- slipped an-and broke it!" He spoke on the verge of tears, his speech now amusingly scrambled. You gave a sigh, withdrawing your gaze from the two, and sipping on some water.

"you'll have to make this up to me somehow, you know? I loved that scythe a lot." You moved yourself in a more laid-back sitting position, returning your gaze back to zues who cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes.

"yes yes... I will. I assure you that I shall repay you with something of much greater worth!" He boasted, making you raise a brow. What could he have meant by 'greater worth'? Better? Than your weapon?

"something of much greater worth? Which is what, exactly?"

"one of my children."

You stared in silence, before a vein slowly bulged on your face. The atmosphere of the room suddenly dropping. "Do you take me for a joke? Your children...greater worth than my scythe?" Zues chuckled at your angry response, while ares watched with an alarmed look. Panicking over how his dear father was testing the waters of death itself.

"of course i don't take you for a joke. But! I am quite confident that you'll be interested in picking one of them! How about it? Aphrodite? Or Athena? Maybe Artemis-"

"Apollo."

"..."

The room was now full of an eerie silence, all eyes on your figure, before laughter started booming from the old man. like he's heard the funniest joke to have ever been told after multiple centuries boredom. "Ahh! I see he has charmed you then?" You remained with a neutral expression on your face, staying composed as he laughed out loud like an asshole. Ares who just witnessed the whole thing go down, stared and blinked..He was not very used to hearing about marriage between two beings of the same sex. Not that it wasn't normal, but his half brother, and....The god of... destruction???? Getting married??? was he dreaming? Hermes who saw the look on his brother's face, maybe let out a little laugh, snickering to himself.

"you done laughing, old man?" You let out a defeated sigh, while he wiped his tears. "Alright then, but you have to stop the chaos going around! And forgive Ares for breaking your scythe. Then we have a deal."

"very well."

The next day, Apollo was brought in. The atmosphere of the room was incredibly different now that he had showed up, making things brighter than usual. "So? What was I brought here for?" He put his hands on his hips, his always confident smile plastered on his pretty face.

His eyes scanned the room, trying to read the situation at hand, before zues spoke. "Well, apollo, you see...we are kind of in a bad situation. And if we don't act on it quickly, humanity is doomed." He trails off slowly, checking Apollo's face for any signs of negativity.

The god raises a brow, tilting his head while he looks zues up and down, "Is that so? Do you want me to go down there and help them perhaps? I wouldn't mind."

"no no.....it's just..err..we just had a little..talk..with the god of destruction."

Apollo perks up, "lord (m/n)? For what exactly? And why am I included in such important matters?"

"that's the thing...we might've done something to anger the god. Which we decided to repay, for the sake of humanity. So I gave him an offer...which was to marry one of you and your siblings." Zues looked to Hermes who nodded in agreement, only sparking up Apollo's curiosity even more.

"and..?"

"and...I gave him choices....but he insisted on his future spouse being...well......you"

Apollo's eyes widen "no way!" He crossed his arms "I never consented to this! I'm not going to get married to him!" But who could blame him for being angry? He has never even seen the face of (m/n), but whenever the god's name was spoken, it would never fail to strike fear into those who hear it. The only thing Apollo has heard of was all the things the man has done, the power he holds, and why nobody dared defy him.

"I'm truly sorry, but I'm afraid we don't have a choice. He has already chosen you to be his his future spouse, and nothing shall get in the way. You know how he is. You have around 3 days to prepare for the wedding.. Don't worry, you'll both do it in private."

Apollo stormed out angrily, stomping away as he mumbled insults. How dare they do this to him. Without him knowing! He never planned on settling down for marriage, especially with a man he's never met! What has gotten into them?

Before he could think, he bumped into a tall figure, before looking up and staring into the male's eyes, instantly falling for the god before him.

"forgive me, are you okay?"

He nodded slowly, his smile slowly creeping back to his face. All the negative emotions were swallowed up by a tsunami of adoration and love. You looked a little older than him, but that's alright, you looked pretty hot to him anyway.

But Before he could speak, "Pretty little thing.." you mumbled, as your hand caressed his face, looking at him like he was a pretty trinket on display. One that you wanted to take and keep for yourself. Apollo who had just heard your comment, chuckled as he stared you in the eye, "what a bold comment for someone who's just met me."

"do you know who I am?" You grinned, as silence emerged, "I'm (m/n)." With those words alone, you received a gasp of realization from the poor god, who immediately took a step back, staring at you with wide eyes. "Say that again...?" He asked, his voice bearly above whisper.

"I'm (m/n)"

His face suddenly contorted into one of fear and disgust, immediately walking away, trying to breathe after being suffocated under your intense gaze. Unable to speak in your presence. But before he could walk away, he heard one last thing..

"pretty little thing.."

Those were the last words he heard before he opened his eyes. 3 days had passed and there he was, his hand held gently cradled by the same man that had been so disgustingly smitten by him to the point where he was forced into marriage. The only people that could watch their ceremony were a bunch of little imp creatures that looked like they were just taken out of hell. Thank (m/n) for asking hades. Then we have zues, and a few of Apollo's siblings, who all knew just as well as him—that if any of them interfered, their heads would be served on a platter at the dinner table.

He looked at you with sad eyes, before you caresses his face once again, whispering promises in his ear. How you would give him everything he could ever want, aside from a divorce...and all the things you'd do to him and his loved ones if he tried to leave.

"darling...you look absolutely stunning" you smiled, ignoring the tears forming on his face.

No response

"you must have put a lot of effort in choosing your clothes, huh?"

No response

And once you put the ring on his finger, you gave him a gentle kiss, one that he accepted without resistance. Knowing that one wrong move and all of Olympus was done for. All he could do was hope for the best, but a part of him couldn't bring himself to like you at all. You were sick in the head, and it disgusted him so much how you could kill an innocent life without giving a damn...or how you would punish those who angered you in any way.

You said he could still sleep with other people, as long as it isn't a committed relationship. But when they you get too jealous, someone will have to end up disappearing that same day. You brought to him everything he could ever ask for, that along with multiple gifts and beautiful jewelry. Only the best for your most prized possession, right?

Have I forgotten to mention that you were also a twisted enough person who always knows how to mess with his head? All your sick mind games, slowly forcing him to submit to you...before eventually seeing you in a new light. A new god.

You were both together now, and nothing could change that. So why not just...accept it? Yeah, why didn't he thinks about that from the start? It's not like he can do anything about it anyway.

With that, he began to open up, and eventually became head over heels in love with you, just as you are for him.

And now there he was, getting all pretty for you. Flowers on his hair as he dressed in the finest most beautiful robes. Getting ready to see you. He's finally come to his senses and learned to accept his new life. It wasn't that bad, he was just overreacting, and overwhelmed!

So it's all fine to him now, he's learned to accept this new life. Because no matter where he went, or where he tried to run...you'll always find him...

And drag him back to a place...where the sun can't shine.

____

Thanks for reading guys. And yes, I had to write literal lore for the reader just for this specific story. Did y'all notice that the title of the story was mentioned in the last part??? Cool right?? But anyway, that's all.

115 notes · View notes