#this was truly a flight of fancy

[isolavirtuosa]

That River in Egypt 15-21 of 21

[fanfiction] Dean / Cass

canon divergent AU from 15x19, Dean being Dean

Previous parts here.

- 15 -

“Dean!”

I was already ducking as a witch went flying over my head.

“I’ll finish the ritual, you get Sam out of here!” Patience asserted, picking up the stinky potion that Sam had been concocting and starting to chant in Latin.

I eyed my unconscious brother (Patience’s vision hadn’t quite made it on time to warn him), then attempted to haul him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry.  “Fuck,” I breathed out, every part of my body screaming in complaint.

“Sam is too heavy for you to comfortably carry,” Cass informed me as he sent the witch flying across the room again.

“He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother,” I grunted.

“What does your familial connection have to do with Sam’s superior height and weight?” he asked, squinting at me.

“It’s a say- you know what, never mind,” I grumbled, limping my way towards the door.

Patience finished chanting and threw the potion at the witch who was trying to get up yet again from the ass-kicking that Cass was giving her.  The glass containing the potion shattered, some hinky pink smoke poured out of it, and the witch turned into a rat.

“Huh,” I said.

“Get it!” Patience demanded.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to ‘get it’ with a Big Foot over my shoulder, but apparently Cass was on the ball and caught it by the tail, holding the former witch up for scrutiny.

“Gross,” she complained.  “And where the hell is Cl-”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Claire declared, kicking the door in for no reason other than to make an entrance.  “The stupid witch hexed my car.”

“Well good thing we already wrapped everything up,” Patience said with a sigh.

Sam’s weight was starting to compress my spine, but suddenly he was gone.

I stared at Cass.  “I had him.”

He hoisted Sam effortlessly over his shoulder.  “It’s fine.”

I made a face at his showing off, and then turned my attention back to Claire and Patience.  “Well that was a clusterfuck.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens to a straightforward case when you get the Winchesters involved,” Claire said with a shrug.

“Excuse me?” I said, making a face at her.

“You heard me.”

I scoffed.

“Wasn’t Sam supposed to do the spell?” she asked, squinting at my brother’s unconscious body.

“Knocked unconscious by a… knocked-unconscious spell,” Patience said, squinting at her own wording.

“I will take care of Sam,” Cass declared, handing Claire the rat-witch.

“Cass, wait,” I said, hand grabbing his free shoulder just as he took flight.

We were suddenly back in our motel room.

I tried not to lose my cookies.

“Dean,” he said with a frown, “you should have helped the girls with the clean-up.”

“We need to talk,” I said, glaring at him.

“I need to do a…” Cass paused and frowned, “‘anti-knocked-unconscious spell’.”

“Cass.”

“Dean.”

We stared at each other.

“Come home,” I blurted out.

Cass gave me his most long-suffering sigh.  “I have my own home now.”

“That’s bull!” I snapped, irritated.  Your home is with me.

Just fucking say it, you pussy.

I didn’t say it.

Cass placed Sam on one of the beds, then started going through his duffel bag, pulling out weird-smelling herbs.

“You’re an angel living in the friggin’ suburbs, man, it makes no goddamn sense.”

“I enjoy it,” he said with a human-like shrug.

“And you don’t enjoy the bunker?” I asked snottily.

“It served its purpose,” he said, starting to mix some of the herbs in a motel coffee mug.

“‘Served its purpose’?!” I spat back at him.

“It was a wonderful home for us when we needed it, but I am at a different point in my life now,” he explained, unperturbed.  “To be straightforward, I think we’ve all outgrown it.”

I sputtered at that.

Cass spared me a glance, then shook his head, looking disappointed.

“So you’ve outgrown me?” I snarled.

That finally got him to stop being such an asshole and look a little guilty.  “Of course not, Dean.  You know I love you more than anything.”

“More than your stupid house?”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Guess that’s a ‘no’, then.”

“You are such a child.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“No, I said that you are a child, not me,” he said, looking confused.

“I know you are, but what am I?”

His brow furrowed.

Not that it was cute as hell or anything, or that the sheer adorableness caused some of my self-righteous anger to fade.

“Pee-wee Herman,” I offered as an explanation.

“Is that some kind of urinary tract infection?”

I tried not to laugh.

Cass smiled, eyes meeting mine before flicking back to Sam as he began with his Enochian mumbo-jumbo.

“It didn’t work,” I pointed out when Sam continued to lie there unconsciously.

“Why are you so impatient?” he grumbled at me, and almost on cue Sam popped up with a gasp.

“Where’s the witch?!” he demanded.

“Rat,” Cass offered.

“With Claire,” I added.

“Oh…” Sam said, leaning back against the headboard.  “Huh.”

“If that is all…” Cass said, moving like he was about to leave.

I grabbed his arm again.  “We’re in the middle of something.”

“It seems wrapped up to me,” he replied, eyeing my hand.

“Dammit, Cass,” I growled, finding some of that misdirected anger again.

“I should… go…” Sam commented, stumbling to his feet and still seeming a little dazed.

“I think you should rest a little longer, Sam,” Cass suggested.

Sam blinked and sat down again.

“Is he okay?” I asked, my big-brother-concern taking over for a moment.

“The effects of the spell should wear off in two to six hours,” Cass assured me.

“That seems kinda… long…”

“Let’s go outside and let Sam rest.”

All I could do was follow Cass outside, though I paused in the doorway to look back at my very disheveled-looking baby brother.  “Sammy, lay down and rest, okay?”

He gave me a vacant nod like he used to do when he was little and had a fever and would just do whatever I said, then he laid back down on the bed.

I shut the door as quietly as I could before flipping back into Angry Mode.  “Look, I’m get-”

Cass pointed to his phone that was held to his ear.  “Yes, Patience, Sam is okay.”

I started stewing.

“Can you put Claire on?” he asked, then paused.  “Hello, Claire.  No, that’s not how eyes of newt work.  No, Claire.  No.  Stop doing that.  Stop everything that you are doing and wait for me to come back.  No,” he repeated, rubbing his temples.  “I will see you shortly, goodbye.”

“I ain’t even gonna ask,” I said, watching him pocket his phone.  “So you’re going again?”

“Claire needs my assistance.”

“Oh, okay then.”

“You do not need to be so abrasive, Dean.”

“I’m abrasive?” I growled at him.  “I haven’t seen you in weeks, Cass.”

“I’ve been busy fixing up the house,” he said with a frown.  “The house that I asked you to visit, but you have declined my every invitation.”

“’Cause I ain’t gonna normalize this bullshit!  What are you even doing, Cass?  A house in the suburbs?  Ya gonna find yourself a nice little wife and settle down with your 2.5 kids and a dog?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You don’t know?!  Then why the fuck are you doing it?!”

“Dean, you are upset, and this conversation is no longer productive.  Please go inside and take care of Sam, and I’ll go help Claire before she disrupts the space-time continuum.”

“I’m sorry this conversation isn’t productive enough for you,” I spat out.  “Here I am, trying to figure out why my…” and here I stumbled, “my… my boy… my boyfriend of three years just dumps me out of nowhere to go live his Real Housewives of Lebanon fantasy by himself.”

“Well maybe you should try listening for once,” Cass said, starting to sound annoyed.  “I don’t know how many different ways I can explain it to you.”

“English would be a good start!”

Cass had the nerve to actually throw his head back in a frustrated sigh.  “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Doing what?  Having a friggin’ conversation?  Taking a little responsibility?”

“I’m not going to allow you to continue… ‘guilt tripping’ me for making choices that you do not agree with,” he said.  “It’s my life, and it’s what I want.”

“A life without me,” I muttered bitterly.

“You are the one who made it very clear to me that I am not ‘Barbie’ and you are not ‘Ken’, and that we will not be living ‘happily ever after’ in my ‘Malibu Dream House’,” he growled at me.  “You keep acting as though I am the one who has put this chasm between us, when it is you issuing the ultimatums, you insisting that if it is not your way, then it is no way.”

“That’s not how it is.”

“It is exactly how it is, and Sam and I are tired of paying penance to your never-ending list of reparations.”

“What the hell does Sam got to do with it?”

Cass paused at that.  “I spoke out of turn.”

I’d been leaning against Baby, but now I pushed myself up to my full height, getting in Cass’s face.  “What the hell does Sam got to do with it?” I repeated.

He looked guilty.

Why the hell did he look guilty?

“Goddammit, Cass, tell me.”

“It’s not my place,” he said, and he looked downright pitying.

What the hell was he pitying me for?

“I need to go.”

“Don’t you dare run away.”

“Dean, you know where I live and you are welcome to come there any time,” he informed me.  “Goodbye.”

And the fucker flew away.

- 16 -

I was wasted.

I crawled over to my bed, but any attempts to actually get up onto it were quickly refuted by gravity.  I got myself into a mostly sitting position and let my head flop back against the mattress.

Fuuuck.

Everything was shit, and now I couldn’t even sleep in my goddamn bed.

My head started lolling to the side and I tried to return it to an upright position.  The attempt failed, and I found the ground getting closer and closer.

“Cass,” I grumbled into the floor.  “Cass?  Get your ass over here.”

Of course he didn’t come.

I felt very pathetic lying here on the floor, so I tried to get up again, but it didn’t work out.

“Cass, c’mon,” I slurred.  “Cass, please.”

Was he going to make me beg?

I hadn’t seen him since our fight back at the motel in Ashland however many weeks ago that was, ‘cause I sure as hell wasn’t about to go over to his place with my tail between my legs.

He could come to me.

Would he come?

He wasn’t coming.

“Please,” I begged.  “I needa talk t’ya.  ’M s’rry.”

My phone buzzed, but it was all the way in my pocket.  I had to close my eyes and rest for a moment before I managed to get it out.  Then there was the whole ‘reading while drunk’ issue.  I squinted at the notification until the letters finally formed a ‘Cass’ and something along the lines of ‘be there soon’.  Relieved, I closed my eyes again.  Needed to rest.

I startled awake, fumbling for my gun and only coming up with my phone.

There was that sound again, an ominous thumping.

“Dean?”

“Cass?” I croaked out.

The door opened slowly.

“Cass?” I repeated.

“Oh, Dean,” he sighed, closing the door behind him and approaching me slowly, almost cautiously.

“Y’r heeeere,” I breathed out.

“Of course,” he said, sitting next to me on the floor.

It took supreme effort, but I inched closer to him and managed to lift my head high enough to rest my cheek against his thigh.

He seemed to hesitate, then rested his hand in my hair like he usually did, stroking gently.

I closed my eyes again.

“Dean,” came a gentle voice, startling me awake again.

I seemed to be drooling on Cass’s pants, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t care.

“What happened?” he asked.

“N’thn,” I mumbled.

Cass continued to stroke my hair.  “Would it be alright if I sobered you up?”

I nodded into his leg.

He pushed his grace into me, and the alcohol dissipated.

Which was pretty friggin’ awkward, seeing as how I was laying with my head on his lap.

“What happened?” he repeated, fingers still scratching soothingly into my scalp.  As soon as the dude figured out he had permission to touch me, he kind of never stopped.

“It’s nothing,” I sighed, keeping my eyes closed so I didn’t have to see how embarrassing the situation was.

Cass waited.

He was very good at waiting.

I sighed loudly.  “So Sammy’s havin’ a kid.”

Not even a stutter in the motion of his hand, because of course he already knew.

Always the last to know.

I swallowed.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Cass finally asked.

“Yeah, sure,” I muttered.

“…how bad was the fight?”

“It wasn’t a fight,” I protested.

“However you wish to label it,” Cass said with a sigh.  “You are… out of sync.”

“I guess that’s one way a puttin’ it.”

He was giving me those stupid puppy dog angel eyes of his.

“Sam said he’s not gonna raise the kid in the life,” I blurted out.

“Is that not what you would want for the child?”

“Of course it’s what I want, it’s just not reality,” I grumbled.  “Ain’t no way a Winchester’s gonna walk around this earth without gettin’ harassed by every little thing that goes bump in the night.”

“Perhaps the child will be a Leahy.”

I snorted at that.  “You know what I mean.  We got enemies, no matter what you wanna call us.  I mean, Ben-” I started and immediately stopped.

“The gates of hell have been closed,” Cass pointed out after it was clear I wasn’t going to continue.  “Demons won’t be coming after you.”

“Okay, but who’s to say they won’t suddenly open?  And there’s other shit out there besides demons that want us dead.”

“That’s true,” he acquiesced.

“Yeah, so we gotta stay smart, we gotta stay safe, ya know?”

“And to you, the bunker is the only safe place.”

“Obviously.  It’s friggin’ god-proof.”

“Perhaps Sam is willing to take the risk if it’s to live the life he’s always wanted.”

“Risk his kid?”

“I don’t think it’s quite that simple.”

“Whatever, man, I know you two are off collaborating-”

“Dean.”

I rolled my eyes with a huff.

Cass’s hand paused, then slid from my hair to cup my cheek.  “And what does Eileen want?”

That gave me pause.  “Uh…”

“It seems to me like this is a decision between Eileen and Sam, not you and Sam.”

I scowled up at him.

He gently moved his thumb along my cheekbone.  “You’ll be a great uncle, though,” he said like it was a fact.

I wasn’t so sure.

“You already love this child so much,” he assured me.

I huffed out a breath at that, but it was true.

Cass leaned down, brushing his lips against my forehead.

That just made me feel completely pathetic and I couldn’t help but whine his name, followed by a pitiful, “stay.”

Cass sat up again, the stroking motion of his hand resuming.  “I can’t.”

I breathed in sharply, trying not to… whatever it was I was about to do.

“Come to my place, Dean,” he requested softly.  “Just for tonight.  Please?”

“It’s the middle of the damn night.”

“And…?”

I pulled away from his touch and sat up, pressing my back to the bed.  “You’re already here, Cass, why can’t you just stay?”

“I believe your exact words were, ‘if you leave, then don’t even think about coming back’?” Cass mused.

“You know I didn’t mean it,” I muttered irritably.

“Yes, I did know that,” he agreed.  “And yet you still felt the need to say it, Dean.  Felt the need to keep up the pretence.”

“Cass-”

“I’m not coming back here,” he informed me, rising to his feet.  “So if you want to see me, you have my address.”

“Dammit, Cass.”

He looked down at me, unimpressed.

I always did this, and it was so fucking pointless.

So I made a different choice.

“You’re driving,” I muttered, pushing myself to my feet.  Cass might’ve de-drunkified me, but now I was a bit hungover and I didn’t want to risk Baby with my potentially shitty driving.

Cass blinked owlishly at me.

I opened the door and started shuffling off towards the garage.

“Dean?” he called after me, confused.

Was it that weird that I was doing what he asked?

I didn’t say anything and kept moving forward.  When we got to the garage, I tossed Cass the keys and got in the passenger seat.

He still looked confused as he sat down next to me.

“Let’s go see the Malibu Dream House,” I said, staring out the window.

“It’s in Lebanon…”

“Just drive, sunshine.”

I could feel his smile without having to look.

So he drove.

- 17 -

“You’re really in the ‘burbs, huh?” I marveled, looking around at all the manicured lawns.

“Yes, Dean,” Cass answered perfunctorily, pulling the garage door shut behind him and joining me in the driveway.

“Can’t really see the stars too good,” I commented.

“Did you message Sam?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes.  “Yes, mom.”

“He will appreciate that,” he said.  “He gets worried when he wakes up and you’re not there.”

“Sounds a little Single White Female.”

Cass squinted at me.  “So are you suggesting that perhaps a bit of distance would be healthy?”

I frowned.

Cass just shrugged and went up the walkway to the porch.

I followed, taking a seat on the swing.

It squeaked loudly.

“I don’t know how to fix that,” he said, sitting next to me.

“I’ll get ya some WD-40 in the morning.”

“How are some letters and numbers going to fix my swing?”

I turned to him, feeling myself grinning.  “Just trust me, I’ll take care of it.”

Cass started to smile back.  “Okay.”

Were we making up?

I wanted to make up.

I stretched my arm along the back of the swing, hoping Cass would lean into it.

Instead, he turned his face towards the sky.  “There are still a few stars to see.”

“I guess they’re not so bad,” I said with a shrug, my eyes tracing the Big Dipper.

“I like it here,” Cass said softly.

I breathed out a long breath, trying not to snap at him.  I was all evolved and crap now.

“Anywhere that isn’t where I am,” I muttered instead.  ‘Cause that sounded tough and not completely insecure.

Cass leveled me with his most exasperated expression.  “You are in fact, as Claire would say, ‘literally’ here with me, Dean.”

I glared out at the sky.

“I long for you,” he confessed softly.

I rolled my eyes and tried not to be embarrassed for him, which is why my cheeks were getting red.

“And I would do anything for you,” he continued in a similarly cheesy vain.

“Ya gonna come back to the bunker then?”

“…but I won’t do that.”

We were both quiet, until I finally had to ask, “did you just ‘Meatloaf’ me?”

“What does ground meat have to do with anything?”

I turned to stare at him.

That smug-ass angel knew exactly what he was saying.  He caught my glare and admitted, “I did ‘Meatloaf’ you.”

“Stop being a smart-ass,” I complained.

“But it’s your favorite quality of mine,” he teased, oblivious.

He was so close, but it was like some wall had gotten thrown up between us.  I looked at him helplessly.

His eyebrows scrunched together, his own face taking on a panicked look, and suddenly he was catching my cheeks in his hands, pulling me closer.  “Dean, my beloved, please…”

“Please what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, averting his eyes.

“Cass?”

“I’m not going to give in to you anymore.”

“What?” I asked, my voice cracking a little.

He sighed, taking his warm hands away and standing up.  “It’s late.  You need to get some rest.”

“Hey,” I complained, catching his wrist and trying not to panic.  “What did you mean by that?”

He chewed on his bottom lip, a weirdly human habit that I hadn’t seen him do before.  “Just as I said,” he finally decided.  “As much as I long for you, I can no longer simply acquiesce to your petulant demands.”

Cass apparently longed for me.  So fucking cheesy.

I couldn’t look him in the eye.  “I’m not petulant,” I complained in a tone that definitely wasn’t petulant.

“You are being ‘peak’ Dean right now,” he informed me.

“Screw you,” I muttered.

He sighed loudly and unlocked the front door.  “Come on.”

I briefly considered staying outside freezing on the porch before following him in.

“This is the living room,” he explained, and it’s a good thing he did, because there was literally nothing in the room but a big book shelf full of books.

“Dude, ya ever think of getting, I dunno, a couch or something?” I scoffed.

“I haven’t gotten around to it,” he said, unbothered.  “Here is the kitchen.”

The kitchen actually looked nice, the pots and pans hanging over the island kinda like in the bunker, and a cozy four-seater table set near the window.  “Not bad.”

“The bathroom is this door on the left,” he continued, giving me a knowing look.

He’d sobered me up, but he hadn’t emptied my bladder.

“And my room is at the end of the hall,” he concluded.  “Obviously I do not sleep so you are free to use my bed.”

“That was the most unsexy offer to sleep in your bed that I’ve ever heard,” I muttered, opening the door to the bathroom and quickly shutting it behind me.  I groaned in relief as soon as things started flowing.

The light had been left on in the bedroom, and there was one of my old t-shirts and some wookie pajama pants that I’d given to Cass neatly folded at the end of the bed.

“Good night, Dean,” Cass called from down the hallway, probably in the living room.

“Night,” I replied, tugging on the pajamas and dumping my clothes on the chair by the door.  I slid in between the sheets, expecting them to be musty from disuse, but actually…

I nestled into the pillow, breathing in Cass, and then I was out.

- 18 -

“Good morning, Dean,” Cass greeted me cheerfully as I shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes.

I did a doubletake.  Then I found myself grinning.  “Sweetheart, ya don’t gotta wear an apron to make cereal,” I pointed out.

Cass looked down at his ‘kiss the cook’ apron, then flicked his eyes up to meet mine.  “You’d be surprised.”

“Nah, I probably wouldn’t,” I said, biting back a laugh.  He could be weirdly clumsy sometimes, and he didn’t belong anywhere near a kitchen.  “You made coffee?”

“Of course,” he said, pouring me a cup with a flourish.  Some of it spilled over the rim.

“Really puttin’ that apron to work, huh?”

“Actually, I never spill anything on the apron itself,” he explained.

I snorted, accepting my mug and taking a sip.  “Not bad.”

“I am capable of brewing coffee, Dean.”

“Ehh,” I said, earning myself a Very Annoyed Look.  I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of me.

Cass sighed.  “It is difficult to stay angry with you when you personify joy like that, even if it is at my expense.”

“Then don’t stay mad,” I pointed out, feeling my cheeks warm.

He shook his head at me, pouring the milk into the cereal bowl and carrying it over to the table.  “I hope this breakfast is to your satisfaction.”

“Looks like you slaved over it all morning,” I said, accepting the bowl and digging in.  “Mm, good cereal-to-milk ratio.”

“You’re a brat,” he scolded me, taking a seat on the other side of the table.

“I’m complimenting you.”

“Sarcasm isn’t complimentary.”

“Says you,” I said with a shrug, shoveling more cereal into my mouth.

“You’re a terrible house guest,” he pointed out.  “Did you sleep well?  The mattress hasn’t remembered you yet.”

“Yet, huh?” I murmured with a mouth full of cereal that probably took away from the flirtatious tone I was intending.

“I would like you to stay here more often,” Cass replied sincerely.

I swallowed the rest of my cereal.  I plunked the bowl back down on the table.  I looked out the window.  I was running out of ways to avoid the conversation.

“You don’t have to,” he finally said when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to answer.

“You’re not gonna come home, are you?” I asked quietly, resigned.

“The bunker is not my home.”

I took in a sharp breath, feeling like I’d been sucker-punched.

“I guess it won’t help if I say that you are my home,” he said, reaching out to touch my hand.

I pulled it away.

Cass stood up abruptly, stomping over to the sink and dumping the remains of his breakfast down it.

I looked down at my hand.

I looked at Cass’s turned back, vibrating with anger.

I had to stop doing this shit.

I just didn’t know how.

Maybe if I just told him that.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I croaked out.

Cass sighed, but at least he stopped vibrating.

“I just wanna fix things, okay?” I said.  “I know all I ever do is make things worse, but I wanna fix this.  I just can’t get outta my own damn way.”

“I am aware.”

“Cass, tell me what to do, man.  Tell me what I gotta do to make this right.”

He turned around to face me, head tilting slightly.

I rubbed my mouth anxiously.  “Do I gotta move in here with you?”

“No,” he said.  “I’d like you to, but only if you actually want to.”

“And there’s no chance you’d-”

“No.”

“Cass.”

He waited.

“Do ya need a commitment?” I asked, clutching my spoon a little tighter than necessary.  “Ya need me to swear off flirting?”

“I don’t ask for the impossible.”

“Okay, well, whaddya want, a ring?” I asked flippantly.

Cass went very silent.

No, he wasn’t…

The angle of his head tilt intensified.

He was really thinking about it.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit-

“Yes,” he said suddenly, “I think that I would like a ring.”

“Ya lookin’ for something in a princess cut, or…?” I tried to joke, my tone sounding scared and desperate even to my own ears.

“If you’re not genuinely offering…”

I tried to swallow my pride.  “I’m… I’m not not offering.”

He still wasn’t giving me anything.

Fuck, I just had to do this.  “Honey, if you want a ring I will get you a ring.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

What was I getting myself into?

But it was for Cass, so I shook my head.  “I’m committed, okay?  To you,” I clarified.

He stared me down for another uncomfortable moment, then was suddenly back at the table, holding out his hand to me.

I took it this time.

“I’m not trying to force you into something,” he said slowly.

“I know,” I assured him.

“It’s just… I felt as though you’d been making so much ‘progress’ before I asked you to move here with me,” he continued.  “I thought that you would be ‘ready’, and when you were not, perhaps I was a bit resentful.  Of course your typical overreaction of telling me to never come back did not help matters-”

“I’m sorry.”

Cass closed his mouth mid-sentence.  Then he squeezed my hand.  “We are not always the best at communication.”

“You’re includin’ yourself in that?”

He nodded.  “It’s not only you, Dean.  From the night we first made love- stop making that face and listen, please.  I knew it was wrong to continue sexually liasing with you when you were so uncertain about your sexuality and about our relationship.  But it made me feel so connected to you, so I... so I was selfish, and I continue to be selfish every time that I keep my mouth shut in order to keep the peace.”

“Honey, I dunno if I really get what you’re sayin’,” I confessed, still holding his hand tight and not being terrified.

“I know,” he said, lifting up our laced hands and pressing a kiss to the back of mine.  “I can’t ever truly convey to you how important you are to me, how essential you are to my very being.  And yet sometimes being with you is the loneliest I have ever felt.”

Well that was a punch in the gut.

“I know it’s hard to hear, but I need you to hear it,” he said firmly.  “You can be very sensitive-”

I tried to scoff and it came out more like a strangled sob.

Cass was giving me puppy dog eyes, and I could see him struggling, wanting to comfort me.

I took a breath and let it out.  Fine, I was fucking sensitive.  But I could control it.  I didn’t need to spiral about how I made Cass feel the friggin’ loneliest he ever felt.  This was fine.  Everything was fine, and I was going to just shut up and listen.

Cass took a breath of his own.  He slid my hand to his cheek, pressing into it.  “You’re a sensitive person, Dean.  And Sam and I, we’ve… we’ve done some things in the past that have… left their mark on you.  So I understand why you don’t react well when you perceive that Sam and I are ‘plotting’ behind your back, or that I am ‘running away’ from you.  And I think… well, I won’t speak for Sam, but I feel guilty about some of the things I’ve done in the past, and so it makes me hesitant to address difficult topics with you.”

“Whaddya mean?” I asked.

“I mean that... sometimes… I cannot fault you for your extreme reactions, and perhaps I even… I deserve it.”

“Jesus, honey, no,” I said, shaking my head.  “We gotta stop keepin’ score, okay?  And blamin’ ourselves for stupid shit from the past.”

“So you are also going to stop doing that?”

“Yeah, yeah, pot, kettle, all that,” I sighed, cradling his cheek.  “I need you, Cass.  So if I gotta put a ring on it and start comin’ around here more, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“And we’re going to talk openly and honestly about our feelings?”

“Jesus.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“We can… set a timer.  Ya know, one minute intervals of feelings.”

“Followed by one minute intervals of sexual favors?”

“You are filthy, you know,” I pointed out.  “…but only one minute?”

“It was your idea,” he said with a shrug, his eyes staring into mine all soulfully for someone being kind of a lech at the moment.

“Can we make up already?” I blurted out.

“We’re working on it.”

“We’re working on it,” I repeated.  And sure, I was probably gonna fuck it up.

But maybe…

Maybe I wanted to try.

- 19 -

I slid out from under Baby, wiping my hands on my jeans.  I went to the garage to get the engine oil, then came back to finish up the oil change.  I was just wiping off the dipstick when some random dude with a golden retriever started talking to me from the end of the driveway.

“So you’re Mr. Impala.”

“Guess I been called worse,” I said, putting down the hood.

“Drives my wife crazy, she’s always rantin’ about the environment and the noise and the children,” he said with a chuckle.  “Don’t know what she’s gonna do when I get my ‘67 Camaro running.”

“No shit?” I asked.  “That’s gotta be a thing of beauty.”

“Yeah, if it only ran,” he said, shaking his head sadly.  “I’m Dave Thompson, from across the street.”

“Dean Winchester,” I said, taking the few steps down the driveway and shaking his hand.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Dave said, giving me a surprisingly firm handshake for a guy in a mock turtleneck.  “You must be Castiel’s-”

“Yeah,” I said, and okay, maybe I should have let him finish the thought, because now I was apparently Cass’s belonging.  “And who’s this guy?” I asked, wanting to abort and immediately being drawn to the fluffy drooly creature that didn’t understand awkwardness.

“This is Josiah,” Dave said, giving the retriever a pat on the head.

He gave a little bark, but he licked my hand when I held it out to him, so I went in for the ear scratch and immediately got myself a new friend for life.

I could feel myself grinning like an idiot as I crouched down in front of him, but hey, dogs were awesome.  “We had a dog for a while, but it turned out ‘he’ was a ‘she’, and she ended up giving birth to a litter of puppies.  Couldn’t keep ‘em all and didn’t want ta separate ‘em from their mom, so we found her a new home.”

“That’s too bad,” Dave started out sympathetically, but then he tilted his head in confusion (which was not as endearing as it was on Cass).  “Wait, you thought your female dog was male…?  I mean, didn’t you notice…”

“Listen, man, I ain’t the dickmaster general,” I said, earning a snort from Dave.  “I just rub the ears and give the beast its food.”

“Fair enough,” he said agreeably.  “Well, Josiah here is definitely all dude.”

“Friendly dude,” I said, grinning as he licked me in the face.  I gave him one more thorough ear rub before standing back up straight.

“He really likes you,” Dave marveled.  “He doesn’t usually take to strangers so quickly.”

“I smell like bacon,” I confided in him.

Dave cracked up.  “So that’s the secret.”

I just grinned, feeling oddly at ease with this suburban dog dad.

“Dean!”

We both turned to face the house, watching as Cass scrambled out the front door.

“Dean!” he repeated more urgently.

“What’s up, Cass?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Hello, Dave,” he said, sparing a glance for his neighbor.  “Hello, Josiah,” he added, making sure to greet the dog.

“Hey, man,” Dave greeted him.  “Finally got to meet your partner.”

“That is wonderful,” Cass said, clearly not even listening.  “Dean, the Alexa is plotting again.”

I bit my lip, trying not to grin and failing miserably.  “Yeah, honey?  She pickin’ on you?”

“This is hardly a laughing matter,” he scolded me.  “Why would Jack unleash such evil on us?”

“Pretty sure he said it was a Father’s Day gift?”

“I know that gifts are things that you are supposed to keep, and I have tried utilizing it to the best of my ability, but I am at my wit’s end”

“What has Alexa done now?”

“I asked her to set a five minute timer.”

“Okay.”

“She set five one-minute timers.”

“Okay.”

“So I told her to ‘cancel all timers’ and to set a ‘five minute timer’.”

“I think I see where this is going.”

“She will not stop ringing, Dean, no matter how many times I request that she ‘cancel all timers’.  They just keep going off, to the point that I cannot accept that there were actually that many timers set to begin with.”

“So you think she’s intentionally fucking with you.”

“Yes,” he breathed out, exasperated.

“And you need a big, strong man to wrangle her into submission?”

Cass squinted at me.  “Yes, Dean, a big, strong man to turn off the robot speaker.”

“Sounds like I’m the man for the job,” I said, waggling my eyebrows at him.

He huffed out a sigh.

Usually, this was when I leaned in to give him a quick, affectionate kiss.

Was it okay?  In front of Dave?  In front of Dave’s golden retriever with the weirdly biblical name?

In front of Dave’s mock turtleneck?!

I leaned down, giving Cass a little peck on the lips.  “I just gotta clean up the driveway a little, and then I’ll be right in.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a nod.  “I will ‘hold down the fort’ until you arrive.”

“Good luck,” Dave offered.

“I will need it,” Cass said solemnly.  “Goodbye, Dave.  Goodbye, Josiah.”

I watched Cass go back up the walkway because he was wearing jeans and it was a good look.  Also, I didn’t want to gauge Dave’s reaction to the all the homosexual activity going on in his neighborhood.

"Well that was a disgusting display.”

I whirled around to face Dave, ready to be angry now that my worst fears were realized, only to find him grinning at me in a friendly way.

“People our age aren’t supposed to still be that in love,” he said with a snort.

“Huh?” I said, rubbing my nose.

“Wish the missus would look at me like that besides Valentine’s Day and birthdays.”

I wasn’t sure who he’d caught looking at who, but my shoulders relaxed and I grinned back.  “What can I say, we still got it.”

Josiah gave a cheerful bark.

“He gets it,” I said with a snort, crouching down to give him one last thorough pet.  “Well, I better get in there before Alexa takes Cass behind the bleachers and steals his lunch money.”

“Technology,” Dave said with a middle-aged shake of the head.  “Hey, so you’re going to be around here more, right?  The wife’d love to have you both over for dinner some time.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to fiddle with my ring and failing.  “Yeah, uh… I’ll be around and uh… Cass’d like that.”

“Alright, see ya around, man.”

I cleaned up all the oil change gear, setting it back in the garage and pressing the button to put the door down.  I pushed open the door to the house, and was immediately greeted by the sound of a timer.

“Alexa, stop timer!” Cass growled with all his angelic might.

I bit my lip.

“Alexa, stop all timers!  End all timers!  Terminate!”

I came up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.  “Time for the big gun?”

He twisted his head slightly so he could squint at me.  “The big gun that’s going to yell at the robot until he gets so frustrated that he just yanks her cord out of the socket?”

Okay, yeah, that sounded like a pretty likely scenario.  “So you don’t want me to fix it?”

Another timer went off.

Cass sighed loudly.  “Please use your big strong man powers to make it stop.”

“Alexa, stop timer.”

“So you’re just going to do exactly what I’ve already done thirteen times?” he grumbled at me.

I nibbled on the shell of his ear.  “You gonna be a smartass here?”

“Well, I am very smart,” he hummed, clearly enjoying my ministrations.  “And I have an impeccable ass.”

I snorted at that.  “Impeccable?”

“Do you prefer ‘immaculate’?”

“Immaculate?” I sputtered out, cracking up.

Another timer went off.

“Alexa, stop all timers,” I wheezed out.

Another timer went off just to spite me.

“Alexa, cancel timer.  Cancel all timers for all time.  Just shut up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t get that,” Alexa replied.

“Sonuvabitch.”

“Dean, please save me from the big scary Echo,” Cass requested, not helping matters with all his sass.

Another timer went off.

“I'm gonna fuckin' cook you, and I'm gonna fucking eat you!” I growled.

“That doesn’t seem like an appropriate solution,” Cass pointed out unhelpfully, with a complete and utter lack of appreciation for John McClane quotes.

Alexa and I continued to trade barbs for a while, until I finally gave up and yanked her cord out of the socket.

“Thank you, my love,” Cass said, giving me a smooch on the cheek.

“Anytime,” I said.  “But whadda we do with this beast?” I asked, twirling the cord around my finger.

“I hear attics are an excellent storage place for unwanted things that cannot be thrown away,” he said, taking the Echo from me.  “I never understood why humans would need such a place, but I think I may now know.”

“Still think Jack was fuckin’ with you when he got that thing,” I commented as we moved towards the attic.

“Jack is a good boy,” Cass protested.

“He’s a Winchester.”

Cass smiled at that.  “I think he meant well by it.”

“Why do people need robots to turn on their lights?  Ain’t we got perfectly good hands to do that?”

“Why do people need vehicles to transport them when they have perfectly good feet?”

“You take that back.”

Cass just hummed in amusement as he climbed up the ladder to the attic.  He looked around when he reached the top, then held a hand down to me and I passed him the Echo.  “Goodbye, Alexa.  You shall not be missed.”

“Hasta la vista, baby,” I agreed, wrapping an arm around Cass’s shoulder after he stepped down from the ladder.  “Hey, Dave and his wife wanna have us over for dinner.”

“That sounds nice,” Cass said agreeably.

“Are we a suburban married couple?”

“Pretty much.”

“Huh.”

Cass kissed me on the cheek and we went back to the living room to watch a movie.

The fire alarm going off let us know why Cass had set the damn timer in the first place.

“Take out from the Chinese place?” I suggested

“Take out from the Chinese place,” Cass agreed, tossing out the burnt dinner.

- 20 -

“Mornin’, honey,” I mumbled as I felt my cheek getting attacked by smooches.  “Jesus, Cass, it’s a little early for all that-” I started to say, then blinked my eyes open.

Definitely not Cass.

The little puppy stared into my eyes, then gave a happy bark and resumed licking my face.

“Hey, buddy, who are you?” I asked, picking the dog up and resting him on my chest as I gave him a thorough pet.

“Surprise?” Cass offered, standing in the doorway.

“This my birthday present?” I asked, entranced by the soft red fur and the soulful brown eyes.

“Yes, I… do you like her?” Cass asked hesitantly.

“Oh, it’s a ‘her’?” I asked, happy to avoid another ‘why is my male dog giving birth on the kitchen floor’ kind of situations.

Cass was still looking unsure.

“I love her,” I informed him.

“It was Jack’s idea.”

That gave me pause.  “This another Alexa situation?”

“Jack told me that he thought the Alexa would help us bond.”

“Is that what the little shit said?” I scoffed.

Cass frowned.

“I’m joking,” I said quickly, flashing him an apologetic look before turning back to my new best girl.  “Does she have a name?”

“I thought you should name her.”

I nodded.  “Well, I ain’t got no clue yet, so let’s just call her Rex.”

“Rex?” he asked incredulously.

“She’s a happy girl, isn’t she?” I observed as she started licking my face again, but this time more slowly and affectionately.

“Yes, I selected her very carefully.”

“Good job, sweetheart.  You gonna join us here, or what?”

“If I’m not intruding.”

I caught the little quirk to his grin, and I couldn’t help but grin back.  “There’s enough Dean to go around.”

“How… generous,” he said, lifting up the sheets and curling into bed next to me, resting his cheek on my shoulder while I played with the dog.

“She’s a Shiba Inu,” he told me.  “They’re hunting dogs.  Very loyal.”

I stuck a finger in the ring of his t-shirt and tugged him up higher until our lips could meet.  “Thank you,” I breathed into his mouth.

“Of course,” he breathed back.

The puppy barked, annoyed at being interrupted, and reclaimed me for herself.

Cass huffed out an annoyed sigh.  “Is this how things are going to be now?”

“Yep, you’ve been replaced.”

“Hmph.”

I pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he settled back into the crook of my neck, hand draped possessively across my stomach.  “Cass honey?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Where’s she gonna live?” I asked quietly.  I could feel my insides starting to melt a little as she dropped her head between her paws and seemed to fall asleep on my chest, but I was also starting to feel the anxiety creep in.

“She’s yours, Dean,” Cass offered.  “She is welcome to stay here any time.  You can keep her at the bunker with you if you wish.  I will help you with any arrangement that you desire.”

Thing was, I rarely slept at the bunker anymore, even if Eileen and I were there most days, doing the Bobby thing.  The less I was on the road, the more the bunker was starting to be ‘work’ and Cass’s was starting to be...

“I didn’t mean to put pressure on you,” Cass murmured, taking my hand in his.

I’d been fidgeting with my ring again.  “It’s not… you don’t gotta…” I trailed off, not really sure where I was going.

He just held my hand and waited.

“Maybe uh…” and Jesus friggin’ Christ was Winchester pride a bitch, “maybe she could stay here.”

“I’d like that,” he said, putting my hand back on my stomach and carefully petting the sleeping dog.  “I must admit, I’ve grown attached to her these last few days, taking care of her with Jack as we waited for your birthday.”

“Okay,” I said, hoping to leave it at that and for Cass not to notice when suddenly all of my things were in his closet and I was sleeping here seven nights a week instead of five.

But Cass’s eyes were on me.

He knew.

“MaybeIcouldstayheretoo,” I breathed out in a rush.

“I’d like that even more,” he said, beaming with sincerity.

“Okay,” I said.

We laid there for a while, me and the pup mostly snoozing while Cass cuddled us both, but then she was awake and suddenly tearing down the hallway.

“I thought she’d never leave,” Cass deadpanned before putting the moves on me.

“The door’s open,” I pointed out between pants.

Cass slammed the door shut with a flick of his wrist.

“Tryin’ ta get me hot and bothered?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows at him.

“Yes,” he growled, attacking my neck with a ferocity that was probably gonna need a little splainin’ at the party later.

“Sweetheart,” I hummed, trying to not get lost in the thing he was doing with his teeth and kind of losing the plot.  “Sweetheart,” I repeated, “you’re uh… mm, really goin’ to town there…”

He paused, looking up at me contritely.  “I may have become a bit overly amorous.”

“Jealous?”

He squinted at me.  “Are you asking me if I am jealous of the dog that I myself purchased for you?”

“Well are ya?”

“I feel overwhelmed and elated that you are willing to move in with me,” he explained.

So that wasn’t really a topic I wanted to linger on.

Cass seemed to read it on my face, his expression suddenly anxious.  “Dean, did I push you?  Is this not-”

“No, honey,” I cut him off.  Honesty, transparency.  This was how I made our relationship work and didn’t end up losing Cass forever.  So why was it so damn difficult to make my mouth move?  “I wasted so much time,” I finally breathed out.

Big blue eyes stared into mine questioningly.

“It’s hard for me to say what I want.”

Cass nodded knowingly.

“And ta admit when I’m… ya know, wrong.”

He smiled at that, fondly amused.

“But uh… you and me?  Here?  I want this, okay?”

He nodded again.

I sat up, forcing Cass to back up before pulling him close into a hug.

He hugged me back just as fiercely.

Then he started getting frisky again, because Cass was a friggin’ horndog.

Not that I minded.

I bit my lip, fingers digging into whatever they could get, when there was a scratching at the door, followed by a very sad, very lonely bark.

Cass glared up at me from where his mouth was otherwise occupied.

“We can’t just leave her out there,” I panted.  Nothing killed a boner like a crying baby.

“Dean, we are… in flagrante delicto,” he said, sounding scandalized.

“Yeah, but… cute puppy.”

“Is this going to be a regular thing?” he asked, frowning.  Because Cass was definitely a friggin’ horndog, no matter how much Sam tried to claim that I was the corrupting influence.

“Probably,” I said, giving him a very wet smooch on the cheek before pushing him away so I could get up and open the door.

The puppy gave a delighted bark and started circling my legs.

Cass looked annoyed.

I gestured down at my flagging but still slightly interested dick.  “Where were we?”

Now he looked downright scandalized.  “I am not going to blow you in front of this innocent creature.”

I shrugged.  “Your loss.”

He squinted at that.  “You were the one who specifically requested, ‘as many blow jobs as can be performed in 24 hours’ for your birthday.”

I crouched down to give my girl a good pet.  “Yeah, and I haven’t even gotten one yet.”

“You are being very frustrating right now,” Cass growled at me.

I shot him a flirtatious grin.

“Deaaaaan.”

Okay, so maybe I was a little bit of a corrupting influence, but it was my party and I could get blown if I wanted to.

And obviously I enjoyed winding Cass up.

“I regret getting you that pet,” he grumbled at me, making an unhappy exit from the bedroom.

“Don’t listen to him, girl,” I assured the puppy.  “He’s gonna love you almost as much as I do.”

She wagged her tail at me.

Cass stuck his head back in the door, glowering.  “You are already on an ‘I love you’ basis with this creature?”

“Mm-hm,” I said, letting the dog lick my face.

“Do you know how long it took me to get an ‘I love you’?”

“Too damn long,” I told him sincerely.

That gave him pause.

I thought I might try being sincere for a little longer.  “But I can say it easier now.  ‘Cause of you.”

“Dean,” he said in that way of his that said so much more.

“Love you.”

It was like he was glowing from freakin’ happiness.  “I love you, too.”

The puppy barked happily.

“And baby makes three…” I commented.

Cass’s brow furrowed.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” I said, giving the dog a last pat and standing up.  “Coffee?”

“It will be ready in… 97 seconds,” he informed me.

“Perfect.”

- 21 -

“See, now that we got this steak all beautifully marinated, we gotta get it on the grill,” I explained to Maura, shifting her a little higher on my hip as I used my free hand to pick up the tongs.  “It’s all in the wrist.”

She cooed her agreement.

“Dean, do you want me to take her?” Eileen asked, holding her arms out to her daughter.

“Nah, I’m good,” I said, carefully lining the steaks up on the grill.

“Unca,” Maura agreed, tightening the grip of her little hands on my shirt.

“She’s a woman of refined taste,” I explained.

Eileen rolled her eyes.  “Wow, Maura wants to stay with the man who spoils her rotten, what a surprise.”

“It’s an uncle’s job.”

“Do not give her any sugar.”

“Of course not,” I lied.

“I’m watching you,” she said, pointing at her eyes and then at me.  “Be good for Unca,” she added, giving the baby a kiss on the head.  “I’m gonna try and get Daddy to stop checking his phone every five seconds.”

“Good luck with that,” I said with a snort, before turning back to my work.  “Okay, now we close the lid.”

Honey came running up, giving me a greeting bark.

“Unca,” Maura insisted, pointing at the dog.

I airplaned her down to the ground, keeping a hold on her waist as she giggled and pet the dog.

Honey tried to jump on her, so I airplaned her back onto my hip.

Maura giggled.

“Honey, how many times I gotta tell ya not to jump on my girl here?” I scolded her, but I was pretty sure Honey was laughing, too, the way she was barking and running around my legs.  “Oh, hey, I love this song,” I announced, shifting Maura up closer to my shoulder so we could dance .  “Hey hey mama, said the way you move, gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove.”

My niece shrieked with delight, because she did indeed have refined taste and knew that Zepp totally rocked.

“Oh, hey, baby girl, you hear that sound?”

She peered up at me curiously.

“Listen carefully,” I said tilting her closer to the grill.  “Oh, yeah, they’re gonna be gorgeous.”

She pointed at the grill.

“Exactly,” I said, lifting the lid.  “Whoo-ee, lookit these beauties.”

Maura babbled appreciatively as I lined the steaks up on the plate.  “Hey, Sammy, can you make yourself useful and take these to the table?”

“Not now, Dean,” he whined, still staring at his phone.

I looked at Maura and shook my head.  “It’s a good thing you take after your mom.”

She grinned a big gummy grin at me.

“I got them,” Jody said, taking the plate from my hand.  “Damn, Winchester, these smell incredible.”

“Made my own rub,” I told her with a wink.  “Where’s Unca Cass, I’m ready for those burgers.”

As if on cue (but really from supernatural angel hearing), Cass pushed open the sliding door and approached the grill with a platter of burgers.

“Thanks, darling,” I said, setting the platter next to the grill.  “Where ya been?”

“Entertaining our guests,” he said, then shot a glance at Sam.  “Since the guest of honor does not seem to be up to performing the task.”

I snorted at that.  “Well, at least everyone’s gonna eat well,” I said, lining the burgers up on the grill.  “Can you grab me a beer?”

“I suppose,” he said, moving towards the cooler by the picnic table.

I watched him go, my eyes glued to his ass as he crouched down to open the cooler.  Those jeans were just painted on.  I nodded appreciatively.

“You’re too old to be ogling,” Claire informed me as she sidled up beside the grill.

“The man has a great ass,” I shot back at her.

“Since I have the same genes, thanks, I guess?”

“You’re welcome,” I told her magnanimously.  I eyed the burgers and tried flipping one.  They still needed a little more time.  “You see that, baby girl, you want the bottom a little browner before you flip them.”

Maura chewed on her bib, but I was sure she was listening.

“Here you are,” Cass said, pulling the cap off the bottle with his bare hand before handing the beer to me.

“Thanks,” I said, stealing a smooch.  He knew random acts of inhuman strength got me hot and bothered.

And then Maura leaned in and kissed Cass on the cheek, and my heart just about damn melted.

“You givin’ Unca Cass kisses?” I cooed at her, and we rubbed noses together as she giggled.  “Okay, gotta flip the burgers.”

“Oh, crap, the results are in,” Sam announced, looking panicked.  “What if I didn’t… I can’t look.”

Eileen took the phone from him.  “I’ll look.”

I looked at my oaf of a brother, then at his adorable daughter, and asked her, “can you go to Dada?  He needs some emotional support, ‘cause he’s, ya know, fragile.”

“Dada,” she said with a solemn nod.

“Sammy, take Maura,” I said, holding her out to him.

“Hey, pumpkin,” he said, perking up a little in the glow of Maura’s smile.

“Dada,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

I rolled my shoulders after passing her off.

Cass rested his hand at the small of my back, pouring some healing mojo into my aching body.

I slid my arm around his shoulder, leaning into him as my eyes darted between my burgers and Eileen.

Her face suddenly lit up in a grin.  “Sam Winchester, esquire.”

“I… passed…?” he asked slowly.

She nodded happily.

“I passed!” he declared, tossing Maura into the air.

She shrieked with delight as he caught her and swung her around.

Everyone gathered in the yard with cans held up in salute, congratulatory pats on the back, and general merriment.

“Hey, man, ya finally did it,” I told Sam.  “You’re gonna be the friggin’ oldest lawyer ever.”

Cass squinted at me.  “There are many living lawyers older than Sam…”

“Yeah, but not like new lawyers.”

“A man in California passed the bar at 74-” Cass tried to inform me.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, smacking him on the butt.

He made a face at me, but accepted that I was an asshole and that he had agreed for better or for worse.

Moment over, I went back to take my burgers off the grill.  I took a quick sip from my beer that had sadly been sitting there untouched, and damn did that hit the spot.  I hadn’t had a beer in forever.

One of Garth’s twins let out a god-awful shriek, and when my eyes found him, he was pinned under Honey.

I whistled sharply.  “Honey, get your ass over here.”

She quickly ran over to me.

“What’d I tell ya ‘bout jumpin’ on little kids?” I scolded her.

Honey whined.

Of course then that Samstiel kid came running over, calling for Honey.

She stared up at me sorrowfully.

Whichever-one-it-was threw his arms around her neck, then started scratching behind her ears.

She wagged her tail and whined at me.

“What, are ya some kinda masochist, kid?” I asked the twin.

“Yes,” he replied solemnly.

The kid was a werewolf and all so I guessed my little dog wasn’t going to break him.  Probably.

“Okay, fine, go play,” I told my dog, and she barked happily, promptly knocking the kid on the ground again.

He shrieked with delight.

I shook my head.  “Kids these days.”

“Dean Winchester, suburban dog dad,” Claire said with a snort as she passed by, chowing down on a burger.

“Hell yeah,” I agreed.

She gave me a funny look.

I winked at her.

She shuddered and continued on her way.

I was still grinning as I flipped over the hot dogs, only for it to occur to me that she probably meant that as an insult.

That I usually would have taken it as an insult.

“Hello, Dean.”

I glanced over at Jack, feeling my smile warm.  “Hey, kid, ya made it.”

“Yes, I was able to finish my paper more quickly than expected.”

Because after you rebuild heaven, why not start your undergrad?  Obviously God needed a degree in anthropology.

Jack was such a weird kid, but I guess he was ours.

“I can take over here if you would like to go inside for a while,” he offered.

“Jack, a man’s grill is sacred-”

“-and I have studied your grilling technique for many years, so though I may not surpass the master, I can at least carry on his traditions in an acceptable manner.”

I squinted at him.

“Cass misses you,” he offered.

“Oh,” I said, because we weren’t one of those gross codependent couples that couldn’t be apart for 5 minutes, but we’d spent the whole damn week trying to get the whole family down here for Sam after Charlie hacked into the Kansas bar and found out that he passed, and it had been a whole big thing and I hadn’t gotten to see Cass much outside of the ‘party’ context, and maybe, just maybe, I kinda missed him, too.  “Look, you gotta, take these babies off-”

“I know,” he assured me, gently taking the tongs from my hands.  “I’m ready.”

I gave him a nod and headed inside.

Cass was in the living room with Bobby, Jody, and Donna.

“Hey,” I said, leaning in to kiss him and then just deciding to sit on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, because while we weren’t codependent, I just liked touching him.

“Dean,” Cass said brightly, settling his hand on my knee.

“Hey, Deano, heckuva burger,” Donna said, holding up her plate.

“I am the meat man,” I declared.

“Huh,” Jody said, while Donna just took another bite and nodded her agreement.

All-in-all, it was an alright party.

Sammy came in holding a sleepy-looking Maura a little after 8.  He was looking pretty damn sleepy himself.  “We’re gonna get going,” he told me.

“Past your bedtime?” I asked with a snort.

“Har har, you try studying for a year straight while raising a baby and let me know what that does to your sleep schedule.”

“No, thanks, think I’ll just keep being awesome.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

I looked at him, really looked at him.  I looked at my baby brother, the lawyer.  The father.  “Prouda you.”

He paused, looking taken aback.

“Really prouda you,” I repeated, wrapping him in a hug with Maura squished in between.

Sam returned the hug, squeezing me tight.  “Thanks,” he breathed.

It started to get awkward, so I patted his back and pulled away.  “Drive safe,” I told him.  “Or better yet, let Eileen drive ‘cause she’s a functioning adult.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled at me before moving deeper into the room to say the rest of his goodbyes.

Cass came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

I reached up, rubbing his bicep absently.

“I’m proud of you, too,” he said softly, just for my ears.

I snorted.  “’Cause I’m such a swell party planner?”

“Yes,” he agreed.  “And also the ‘other thing’.”

I shot him a look.

He kissed my cheek.  “I know it hasn’t been easy for you to… to ‘let go’ of Sam.”

I huffed out a breath, looking back towards the door as Sam carried Maura out to the car.  “He’s right here, man, ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Well, he is returning to his home in Wichita.”

“But that’s not what you meant.”

“No.”

My grip tightened on his arm.

“You raised him well, Dean.”

I scoffed at that.  “How many times did I drag him back in ta all this crap?”

“It’s not about being perfect,” he scolded me softly.  “It’s about being there.”

“I know, baby, I just…” I trailed off, trying not to get emotional in front of so many witnesses milling around our living room, and not being very successful.  “I always feel like I fucked it all up.”

“Oh, Dean,” Cass sighed, moving to be beside me, his hand easily slipping into mine.

I found myself led out to the porch.

Sam was fighting with Maura’s car seat while Eileen sat in the driver’s seat, ready to go.  She caught my eye and touched her hand to her chin before arcing it towards me in a ‘thank you.’

‘Of course,’ I signed back.

She smiled at me before turning back to say something to Sam.

There was suddenly a crowd in the front yard as everyone migrated from the back, ready to see the Leahy-Winchesters off.

Sam finally managed to secure his daughter and get into the car.

Everyone was waving and calling out their goodbyes as they pulled away, and our neighbors were probably gonna be a little annoyed, but I looked around me, and it was all family.  They were here for Sam (and possibly for the Meat Man’s amazing meats), this family that we built, this strange, wonderful family.

“Dude, are you about to cry?” Claire asked with a snort.

“Strong men also cry,” I growled at her.  “Strong men also cry.”

She blinked at me, round-eyed.  “The… Big… Lebowsky…?” she asked slowly.

“She’s finally learning,” I said with a choked laugh.  “Shit,” I added, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

Cass squeezed my hand carefully.

I clung back.

And then Jody was at my other side, resting her hand on my shoulder.  “Ya did good, kid,” she assured me.

I wasn’t sure if she was talking about raising Sam or just putting together the party, but either way the tears were freely streaming down my face.

“This is real growth, Dean,” Garth assured me.  “You’re finally actualizing-”

“Stop,” I groaned, running my sleeve over my face again.

“Ah, there he is,” Garth said with a knowing nod.

“We don’t gotta make a spectacle of this,” I complained.  “Jack, you better not of left anything burning on my grill.”

“I removed all the meat before coming to bid farewell to Sam and Eileen.”

“Good man,” I said.

He beamed.

“Look, I love you all, et cetera,” I explained, “but why don’t we get back to the party already?”

 I received a few too many encouraging pat-on-the-backs and sympathy eyes as the party guests proceeded to do as I asked.

Cass led me over to the porch swing and sat me down.

I put my face in my hands and scrubbed.

“You can let it out, Dean.”

“Think I kinda already did.”

He cupped my cheek, gazing down at me softly.

The tears started tumbling down again.

“Dammit,” I muttered, looking away and rubbing my eyes again.  “This is so dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” he assured me.

“You’re not the one cryin’ like a dumb baby,” I muttered.

“They are predominantly happy tears, correct?”

I nodded.

“Then that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

I mustered up a glare, tugging him forward until he just sat on my lap and I could hide my face in his chest like I wanted.

Cass returned the hug.

“Sammy’s gonna be okay, isn’t he?” I whispered.

“He is,” Cass agreed.

“I’m gonna be okay, too, aren’t I?”

“You are.”

I breathed in deep and let it out slow.  The last of my tears absorbed into the soft material of Cass’s t-shirt, and I was finally ready to face the world again.

“Sunshine, you ever have bacon cooked on the grill?” I asked with a last sniff as I sat back in the swing.

“No, I have not.”

“Okay, that needs to be rectified ASAP,” I said, smacking his behind so he’d get up.

Cass fell into step behind me as I went back into the house.

“This is totally gonna revolutionize your life,” I assured him, reaching for the bacon in the fridge.

He smiled at me fondly, but with a twinkle in his eyes that definitely said, ‘I don’t think so.’

I was prepared to spend the rest of my life showing him the finer things of life that he didn’t know he needed.  “Jack, step aside, the Meat Man is here to make all your dreams come true!”

Cass’s eye roll was a tangible thing.

I grinned at him and booped his nose.

He scrunched it up immediately, looking offended.

“I’m gonna be okay,” I decided.

And I was.

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2

Part one

It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.

It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!

“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”

I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.

“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”

And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.

“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”

I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.

“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”

There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.

“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”

Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.

“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”

We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.

The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince… hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.

When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.

Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.

The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!

As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….

“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”

There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?

I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.

“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”

“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”

“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”

“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”

“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”

“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”

Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.

While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.

When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?

Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,

“Good evening, princess.”

He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.

I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,

“What’s that?”

By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.

It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!

It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.

While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.

“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”

At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.

Series discontinued- sorry my loves. Ik y’all wanted more but the good news is that I’ve seen several really talented authors picking up this idea and executing it wayyyy better than my sporadic mood writing ever could.

[tritoch]

the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.

I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.

But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.

Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.

Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.

(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)

Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.

You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—

and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see

my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.

even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.

then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!

It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.

And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.

It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?

ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content

[loved-reid]

Sweet Dreams

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: The team discovers that all it takes for Spencer to shut up is a specific someone to fall asleep on him.

Warnings: Mentioning of admiring someone while they sleep? Fluff!!

Note: AHHH I LIVE FOR FLUFFY SPENCER FICS

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, for his mouth always seemed to be moving, yet the she wasn’t one to complain.

She liked watching the excitement dance in his eyes as he spoke about science and fun facts that she for sure didn’t know about.

Sometimes, she was going to be honest, she would go to the library and get some fancy book just to rant some facts to him to make her seem smart. Or maybe it was the look on his face when he recognized a reference she made, or how his eyes crinkle when he laughed at her nerdy jokes.

It wasn’t much, just a laugh, but to her they meant everything.

But today, today she was too tied to listen to Spencer, for the words he was saying we’re going right out the other ear once they entered one, yet his voice was something she was always happy to hear.

He was sitting on the jet seat, his bag next to him and his sleeves rolled up, the purple doing wonders to the sight of him. His wrist held a watch, the hands ticking as each second went by, each one occupied with his facts and stories. She was laying beside him, resting her head in her bended elbow, eyes dropping every once in a while before they would flutter open again.

She wanted to stay awake and listen, she really did, but the soothing sound of his voice and the draining case they recently solved prevented her from resisting the urge to sleep.

The only thing truly preventing her from falling into slumber was the fact that her elbow wasn’t the best pillow. She decided to wear a sweater that day, and, as one should know, the texture of the yarn wasn’t too pleasant on one’s cheek, therefore not providing comfort.

She turned her head to and fro, wishing she’d eventually get a sleeping position, therefore getting sleep during the flight that way she’d have at least a little energy to make her way home.

Yet, as hard as she tried, she couldn’t get the right angle.

So, she turned to Spencer. A practical living teddy bear.

And who was Spencer to know that at that moment that he got into the theories of how people started celebrating birthdays she decided to lay her head on his leg?

And, for the first time in years that the time the team has known him, his lips stopped mid-pronunciation of a word, the sound dying on his tongue as he grew absolutely speechless.

He swallowed thickly at the sight of her sleeping on his lap, murmuring little sweet nothings to herself as she slept.

He couldn’t help but admire, staring at her sleeping face (not in a creepy way of course) and eventually built up the courage to play with her hair strands, running the soft material between his finger tips.

Garcia noticed first, for she was one of the few actually listening, therefore causing her to look up. When she did, and what she saw something that she hadn’t expected, and that something was the sweetest thing ever.

Her friend was laying on Spencer’s leg, sleeping soundly as if nothing could bother her. Her arm was draped over his leg as well, hand carelessly on the jet seat between his legs.

The absolute expression of peace had taken over her face, eyelashes fluttering once in a while.

And what surprised her the most was that Spencer didn’t seem bothered at the physical contact. He instead seemed to encourage it, for his fingers were in her hair.

The rest of the team soon noticed, yet they didn’t dare to tease Pretty Boy, for the contentment radiating off them seemed to prevent them from doing so.

[bloomseishiro]

WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE  — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — you never cared much for soccer until you watched a game itoshi sae played in. now, you suddenly see the appeal. itoshi rin isn’t too happy about his favorite actress finding interest in his annoying older brother.

itoshi rin x fem!reader. celebrity au, pro soccer player!rin, actress!reader, rin is lowkey a fan of reader lmfaoo, jealous and possessive rin, rin has big bro trauma, diva!reader lol we love that for her :3, slightly suggestive, does this count as soggy and pathetic rin? 

word count. 1.9k

Being famous sure had its perks. 

From free makeup to designer clothes and, of course, free tickets to soccer games courtesy of your close friend, Chigiri.

Naturally, you had to make it up to him by giving him some fancy skincare and hair products, but you thought it was a fair trade. 

Did you know anything about soccer? Of course not. But you weren’t daft enough to not know about the famous Itoshi Sae. And today, his team was playing in your area. 

Why not make an appearance?

It was supposed to be a casual way to pass time, but soon enough, you found yourself gripped by the action. You had no interest in watching soccer on the television, not even the famous FIFA World Cup was intriguing enough to you. But witnessing a match in person felt completely different. 

It was thrilling. 

The back and forth of it all was captivating. Even though you couldn’t make sense of all the plays or even understand what the strategy was, you found yourself holding your breath and rooting for certain players when they had the ball. 

One particular player who managed to catch your eye was none other than Sae himself. You could deny it all you wanted, but he made a name for himself for a reason. And that reason was that he was pretty and smart. 

With his quick wit and athletic abilities, he was able to command both the field and the audience’s attention with ease. It truly was like watching a movie where he was the star. 

You had to hand it to him. 

Itoshi Sae was certainly someone to look out for. 

You slipped away before the game ended, not wanting to deal with the crowds, but before you left, you took a quick picture of Sae on the field. 

It wasn’t very good. You weren’t a professional photographer or anything. In fact, you were normally the one getting photographed. But the picture wasn’t blurry enough to be totally unrecognizable, so that was good enough for you. 

You opened up Twitter and smiled to yourself as you posted the photo.

@ynnie: maybe soccer is worth watching after all @ItoshiSae

Closing your phone, you tossed it into your purse and carried on with the rest of your day, knowing full well both your fans and his would probably be blowing it up anyway. 

Just another perk of being famous.

When Rin woke up, he was seething. 

Seeing viral news stories about Sae made him irritated as is, but when you were added to the mix, he grew even more frustrated.

Why the fuck was Sae’s name in a headline with yours? The two of you weren’t even in the same social circles. Hell, as far as Rin knew, you didn’t even care about soccer.

All that to say, it wasn’t like Rin knew much about you. 

You were the lead actress in one of his recent favorite thriller films and apparently your song was featured in the soundtrack as well. It didn’t seem like you normally acted in those kinds of films, but he thought you captured the role pretty well. 

Rin ended up following you on Twitter and, needless to say, he grew a little more interested than he had planned. He watched a drama you were in during his flights to and from Japan, and he even added some of your songs to his workout playlist. 

Still, he’s never gotten the chance to bump into you. 

Opening his phone, he saw a reply from Sae to your post. 

@ItoshiSae: @ynnie come to my next game

Rin blanched. There was no way. No fucking way. 

Sae probably didn’t even know who you were until just yesterday. And even if he did, Rin still knew about you first. Probably. 

Rin didn’t view himself as a particularly possessive person, but the moment you paid Sae some attention, he reconsidered his position. Why Sae of all people? You should be going to Rin’s next game instead.

But it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it. He didn’t even know you, after all. 

The most he could do was heave a deep sigh, go to the gym for a weight training session, contemplate his feelings of rage and sadness, and move on about his day. 

Seemed like Rin would just have to find a new favorite movie with a different lead actress. 

You didn’t go to Sae’s next game. 

It was in another country and you really couldn’t be bothered to fly over on such short notice, even if he did offer to send a private jet to pick you up. 

The filming of your next series started in just a few weeks, and you wanted to have some time to yourself before you had to throw all the hours you spent awake into shooting on set. 

When you had rare opportunities for downtime such as this, you liked to spend it doing some self care activities like working out at the gym and treating yourself to something yummy after.

The gym you went to was one specifically for celebrities, obviously. Unfortunately, high security and privacy from fans was needed as one grew more and more famous, and this gym was reputable for its luxury status as well as its safety. 

You were finishing up your warmup run on the treadmill when you felt an intense stare on the back of your head. Discreetly, you looked around to find the person trying to start a fire in your hair. The gym wouldn’t let just anybody in, so you weren’t too worried, but the constant staring was enough to catch you off guard.

Soon, you caught sight of a tall man with silky black hair and vibrant blue-green eyes. Something about him looked oddly familiar but you just couldn’t pinpoint it. 

You shrugged it off. This was a place for rich and famous people. You probably ran into him at an event or crossed paths with him somehow before. 

Midway through your leg routine, you felt his gaze again and this time, you whipped your body around to stare at him back. 

“Can I help you?” you asked with manufactured sweetness. Of course, you weren’t going to think nice things about some guy who kept staring you down (no matter how hot he was), but you couldn’t be overtly rude. That wasn’t good for the image.

He shook his head, bangs slightly covering his eyes. “No, sorry.”

You gave him a curious look. “Are you sure? I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“I know,” he said in greeting. “Name’s Rin.”

“You look kind of familiar, Rin,” you stated, walking over to him. Judging from the machine he was near, he was working on his arms and back today, and the tight compression shirt he wore was certainly pleasing to the eye. Rin must’ve been some sort of athlete or model with a body like that. “Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so.”

“So you were just staring at me because you think I’m cute?” you teased. 

His cheeks flushed red and you stifled a laugh. “No. I just thought you looked familiar and wanted to confirm. Sorry for staring.”

“No worries, I’m used to it,” you said, waving him off. “You’re more attractive than most people I catch staring, anyway.” 

Rin ignored your compliment, instead beginning another set of rows. You watched the muscles of his back squeeze together and your throat grew dry. 

Damn. Whoever created compression shirts deserved a nice, long vacation to anywhere they wanted. 

“You look familiar, too, by the way,” you chimed in as he continued working out. “I don’t know why though… What do you do?”

He finished his last rep with an exhale before facing you once more. “Soccer. I’m a striker.”

You weren’t sure what a striker was but you assumed it was related to soccer. Whatever it was, it sounded important. Suddenly, it began to dawn on you why he looked so familiar. 

“Wait— Soccer?” you repeated, reminded of a certain soccer player you saw only recently. “Are you related to…Sae?”

A scowl formed in Rin’s face as soon as those words came out. It didn’t take an empath to realize maybe you shouldn’t have brought him up. 

“He’s my older brother,” he said begrudgingly. “And the biggest pain in my ass.” 

Your brows shot up in surprise and you giggled, “Oh? Some Itoshi family drama?”

Rin rolled his eyes and finished up his last set on the row machine. “If you can call it that.” 

You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Shrugging, you began doing some standing stretches while chatting. 

“He told you to go to his next game, right?” he commented suddenly. 

Trying to hide the shocked look on your face, you bent down to touch your toes. Maybe Rin was even more of a fan than his incessant staring let on. “Yes. Though we were just jokingly flirting for the fans. He has his game right now and, well, I’m here. Aren’t I?” 

“You are.”

Carefully, Rin watched as you finished your stretching, his eyes were trained on the bead of sweat travelling down your neck and onto the curve of your chest. He swallowed. 

You smothered a grin, giving him a free pass since you’ve been checking his body out as well. 

“Do you think my time is better spent here?” you asked teasingly. 

“Obviously,” he retorted, as if it was a stupid question. “You’re spending your time with the better soccer player.” 

With a giggle, you nodded placatingly. “I’m sure I am.”

He frowned. “You don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that!” you assured him. “The only game I’ve watched is one of Sae’s. I don’t know much about soccer, but I’m sure you’re better. You’re the cuter brother, anyway. So you must be better.”

Rin’s brows furrowed but he blushed despite himself. “I don’t think it works that way. But you don’t just have to take my word for it.”

“What do you mean?” you prompted.

“Come to my next match. My next home game is in a few days,” he said nonchalantly, but you knew he was most certainly not nonchalant, if the red on his neck was anything to show for it. “Then, you’ll see you don’t need to go to Sae’s games to see the best soccer player. Keep your eyes on me instead.”

Despite how cheesy it was, you found yourself getting flustered. Though, you were much better at hiding it than Rin. 

“Okay, Rin,” you agreed, exchanging glances with him. “I’ll keep my eyes on you. Will you show me why you’re the best?”

“You’ll know why the moment the match starts,” he said arrogantly, but something told you his confidence was based in truth. 

And as you noticed the spark in Rin’s vibrant eyes, you realized you’ve never been more excited to watch a soccer game in your life. 

“What’s your number?” he asked, handing you his phone. “I’ll forward you the tickets.”

“Front row?” you said playfully as you inputted your information. 

“What else?” replied Rin lazily. “Do you need me to send someone to pick you up?”

No, you didn’t. But you loved being spoiled. Men doting on you was your favorite pastime. 

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” you said bashfully. 

“It’s no trouble,” he promised. 

“Then I look forward to watching you play, Rin,” you giggled. “Maybe you can win the game for me.”

“I definitely will.”

Somehow, you got the attention of the Itoshi brother you certainly didn’t expect. But you had to say, you were quite pleased with the outcome. 

[merlinmylove]

How Sir Leon and Merlin became friends

It’s back in season 1-2 and Sir Leon is on patrol with the Prince and the other knights.

He hears and sees Merlin talk rudely and loudly to his highness, breaking all sorts of decorum, flirting with another knight, (surprisingly Sir Kay doesn���t seem to mind) and spending most of his time feeding the horses treats instead of attending to his duties.

(“There you are horsies, some nice crisp apples for you — I know I know, it’s awfully rude of Arthur to drag you out here in the cold, I hate him too”)

Once they return back to the castle he writes his usual report on the events; cataloging how many bandits they fought, how many lives or equipment lost, who got injured and who took charge. The usual.

He included a simple note on Merlin’s behaviour, and hoped it would be subtle enough that the Prince would take matters into his own hand, and make Merlin stop embarrassing himself and the Prince in the future.

He hands the report over for Arthur to proof read before officially filing it with the other reports. Sir Leon had, perhaps foolishly, thought the prince would appreciate his notice of Merlin’s behaviour but instead Arthur tears the report in half and orders him to:

“Write it again and dont mention Merlin. If you have a problem with him, you come to me. Any slight on his character is a slight to mine, do you understand? He has my absolute trust”

Sir Leon doesn’t understand, not yet anyways.

But nevertheless, he writes a near similar report, no mention of any servants this time around, and His Highness accepts it and files it with the rest.

Over the next few months he tires to observe Merlin and his behaviour around the prince. Just as a precaution! After all, the safety and wellbeing of the Heir to the throne lies with him as knight commander and closest friend.

He notices that Merlin is always the last one to go the bed and the first one up. He singlehanded does all the chores Arthur sets him, even the ones that are beneath him in station, and really is just an embarrassing punishment set by Arthur.

For the godssake they have multiple stable hands and errand boys, Merlin should not be mucking out the horses and running around the castle fetching Arthur’s things.

He seems to sneak out at night to walk an hour to the lake and chat to a woman who lives in it. Leon hides in the bushes as he watch Merlin rant about Arthur’s smelly socks to an apparent goddess.

Merlin is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Helping Gaius and the citizens of the lower town, teaching the young stable boys how to count and write, mending Arthur’s torn clothes, brewing his tea and cooking his food, carrying buckets of water all by himself up ten flights of stairs, changing his bedsheets and polishing his armour.

Leon found himself wondering how the young boy stay so cheerful and kind whilst being so overworked? Does he ever have time to eat or sleep?

But then one night while on guard, Sir Leon would come to truly understanding Merlin. He hears hushed and harsh whisperings around the corner to the royal hall, so he draws his sword and peers around to listen.

It seem Merlin has cornered Lady Celia, and is blocking her path to the Princes chambers.

“Just give the flask to me, and I will tell no one” He demands in a tone of voice Leon had never heard from him before.

“I don’t answer to you, servant! Let me pass, or I shall scream. Then you will see what happens when you try to stop me” Leon didn’t need to see her face to know that she was smirking at him.

“Scream all you want, I don’t care. Arthur will belive me, and I doubt the King will be happy to hear how you tried to poison his son”

“It’s not poison! It’s simply —“

“A lust draft, yes I know. I recognise the colour and fragrance. You bought it three days ago from the traveling merchants. I saw you”

“Oh I see…the little servant fancies himself a spymaster. Stay out of this, or I will make your life a living hell” She sounded entirely too confident and it was starting to grate on Sir Leon’s nerves.

“Doubt you can make it any worse than what Arthur already does” Merlin mumbled, mostly to himself before continuing in a cold levelheaded voice;

“Your plan of seducing the prince and forcing him to marry you out of honour and obligation is disgraceful. I know you’re upset he didn’t dance with you at the winter feast last year — yes I noticed that too! But this is not the way to go about romance. A lust potion will be easily discovered by Gaius and your neck will be on the line. Hand it to me, and I will make sure this never happened”

Leon tightened his grip on his sword as he heard Merlin’s words. To think that someone had planned to accost His Highness tonight and Leon had no idea! He felt shame build up inside him. Lady Cecil’s voice drew him back into focus.

“Oh shut up little cretin! You’re nothing but a lowly servant, who in their right mind would believe your words over that of a Duchess? Your words mean nothing” She sneered.

Sir Leon had heard enough and decided to make his presence known. As he turned around the corner he held his sword drawn.

“But mine does. The King and Prince will belive me when I tell them what happened here tonight.”

Lady Celia drops the flask and it shatters upon impact. A strong aroma of roses and marsipan fills the corridor. She looks ashen and starts shaking.

Merlin on the other hand looks pleasantly surprised at his entrance. His body completely relaxed where he’s stood guarding Arthur’s door. Where the hell are the guards?! Did she get them too, Leon wondered for a second, but he had more pressing concerns at the moment.

“Besides, Merlin is not just a servant, he is the personal servant of the Crown Prince. Furthermore he is well trusted by all the knights and staff. And if you wish to go by social standing and birth…my word as Earl of Blackhall, and Knight Commander of Camelots army trumps yours.”

Merlin allowed a little smile at that.

“Now, if you will follow me my lady, I shall ensure this ends better than it would’ve had you tried to entrap the prince tonight.” It was an order and she knew it.

Lady Celia hmpft and walked ladylike over to him, carefully stepping over the broken glass, and potion soaking the stone floor.

He took her arm, and held it tight. Leon tried to conceal any further disgust with her as he turned to Merlin and asked him to gather as much of the potion as he could. “It will be needed as evidence. And please clean of up afterwards — I’d rather no one else falls under any enchantment”

“Yes, Sir Leon” Merlin said faintly, nodding his head at the older knight.

“And you’d better wake His Highess and alert him” At this simple request Merlin groaned and dropped any sense of dignity and respect.

Kicking his feet in a childlike manner he moaned “Ugh, why can’t you do that? He hates being woken up, and I would know because I wake him up every morning. He’s such an ass when he’s sleepy!”

Sir Leon grimaced as he was all too familiar with Arthur’s morning grumpiness. There’s a reason he always asked someone else to do it. Still, he had to feign some level of decorum.

“Merlin! That is an order. Fetch His Highness and tell him what you discovered. I shall bring Lady Celia to the council chambers and alert the King”

“Alright alright” Merlin huffed and hung his head. “But if he throws something me again, I will say I told you so!”

From this day on, Leon never once doubted Merlin’s character or loyalty towards his prince. He knew that he had finally found a man whom he could trust completely around Arthur…even if he was always late with breakfast.

[heliosunny]

Your writing for Phainon is soon good 💖 How about something with a Dragon-shifter!Reader who kidnaps Prince!Phainon as dragons do - maybe to get a nice ransom from the royal family - the only problem is that he ain't interested in getting rescued. And may have just slaughtered the knights sent to free him and slay the dragon himself.

Yandere!Phainon x Dragon-shifter!Reader

The sky was dark by the time you reached the ruins of the castle, the stone walls jagged and broken from age, yet still standing against the weight of time. It was a place long forgotten, nestled deep within the mountains, far beyond the reach of any kingdom, perfect for keeping a prince.

“You’re a bold one, I’ll give you that.”

Prince Phainon mused, his voice calm despite the chains coiling around his wrists. His silver-white hair was tousled from the rough flight, his blue eyes gleaming in the dim torchlight.

“Most would hesitate before daring to steal a royal away.”

You ignored him, dragging him forward. You had to admit, his lack of fear was… annoying. Maybe even unsettling. He hadn’t even screamed when you plucked him from his fancy palace, claws closing around him like a vice. He merely stared, as if daring you to drop him.

"Don’t waste your breath" you muttered, shoving open the rusted iron doors. Dust rose from the disturbance, swirling in the air. "You’re not here for conversation."

Phainon chuckled, unfazed. "No? Then why am I here, oh mighty beast?"

You tossed him forward. He landed on his knees with a grunt, but when he lifted his gaze, there was something dangerously amused about the way he looked at you.

"Ransom" you finally said. "Your kingdom will pay handsomely to get their precious prince back."

His laughter filled the place.

Your brow twitched. "What’s so funny?"

Phainon grinned up at you, shoulders shaking. "Oh, you poor, clueless thing. You really think they’ll come for me?" He leaned back, tilting his head. "Let me spare you the disappointment, they won’t. Not before they send someone to kill you first."

You narrowed your eyes. That was expected, of course. Kings rarely sent gold before swords. But it didn’t matter. You could handle any knight they threw your way.

"Then I’ll just have to deal with them." you said.

Phainon hummed, watching you with something unreadable in his gaze. He tilted his head, his smirk never faltering.

"You truly have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?"

You ignored him. The sooner you got him locked away, the sooner you could rest. The flight back had taken a toll, not that you’d ever admit it. Transforming, carrying a fully grown man in your claws, keeping to the shadows to avoid unnecessary fights… It was exhausting. And the moment you’d dumped Phainon inside the ruined halls of your abandoned castle, all you could think about was tending to your aching limbs.

Chains had been enough to keep him in place, or so you assumed. You doubted he’d escape, and even if he did, where would he go? You were deep in the mountains, miles away from the nearest civilization.

And so, you left him to his own devices, disappearing into one of the castle’s still-standing chambers. A cracked mirror leaned against the wall, reflecting your disheveled form. You frowned, brushing dirt from your arms before pouring water into a rusted basin, splashing it against your face.

Just a quick rinse. Then, rest.

You didn’t notice the absence of chains.

Didn’t hear the soft, amused laughter echoing down the halls.

Didn’t realize your supposed prisoner had already slipped away.

Phainon rolled his shoulders as he strode through the forest, fingers brushing over the hilt of the sword he had so generously reclaimed from the ruins. His smirk widened. Really, he should be thanking you. It had been far too long since he had been truly entertained.

Ahead, the sound of armored footsteps drew his attention. He didn’t slow his pace, letting the knights spot him first. Their reactions were immediate- relief, determination, wariness.

"Your Highness!" One of them, a captain by the look of his insignia, rushed forward. "You’re safe! We came as soon as we heard-"

"Safe?" Phainon interrupted smoothly, tilting his head. "Was I ever in danger?"

The knights exchanged glances. "The beast-"

"Was nothing more than a misguided fool" he finished, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve. "I was just about to return, after dealing with my own business of course. No need for all this… concern."

The captain hesitated. "We can’t allow that, Your Highness. We must escort you—"

A sigh. Phainon turned his gaze to the trees, as if contemplating. "Ah, what a shame" he murmured. "I told you I would return."

He moved before they could react.

Steel flashed. Blood spattered against bark. The knights barely had time to scream before his blade cut through them like a whisper. Limbs crumpled, bodies fell. Their eyes, wide with shock, stared at him even in death.

Phainon exhaled, stepping over the corpses without a second thought.

"Now, then" he murmured, wiping his blade clean. "Where were we?"

With a smirk, he turned back toward the castle.

His little dragon was waiting.

Phainon pushed open the heavy wooden door, the creak echoing through the abandoned chamber. His eyes flicked over the dimly lit space, stone walls worn by time, a tattered bed of old furs, and there, lying in the center, a figure.

Not a dragon.

A human.

His brows lifted slightly, the only sign of his surprise. The realization came quickly, his captor was no ordinary beast. The dragon and this person were one and the same.

Leaning against the doorway, he observed you. Your breath was steady, though he noted the faint twitch of your fingers. He could slit your throat now, end this little game before it spiraled further.

But where would the fun be in that?

He stepped closer.

The moment his foot scuffed against the stone, your eyes snapped open.

Your instincts took over before reason could settle in, because your captive was free, because he had a sword again, because he stood over you with an unreadable smirk.

You moved in a flash.

Your hands shot out, grabbing at his limbs, forcing them down. Chains slithered from beneath the bedding, precautions you had set up, ones that now snapped into place with ease. His wrists slammed against the cold floor, and with a sharp twist, you locked his legs as well.

You pressed a knee against his chest, breathing heavy. "How did you escape?"

Phainon merely chuckled, entirely too amused despite his current position. "You should be asking yourself.. how did you fall for it?"

You narrowed your eyes.

His strength was not that of an ordinary man, you realized that when he shifted slightly beneath you, and your balance nearly tipped. He was holding back.

"You really are something else" he mused, tilting his head, the flickering firelight casting shadows over his sharp features. His blue eyes dragged over you, lingering, intrigued. "What should I call you? Or do you prefer ‘beast’?"

You didn’t answer.

His smirk widened. "You’re quite breathtaking up close, you know."

You scowled. "Spare me your empty words."

He laughed. "Oh, but I never lie." He shifted slightly, testing the chains, his muscles tensing beneath you. "And I never let myself be bound for long."

You barely had time to react before he tore free, a sheer burst of strength shattering his restraints like they were nothing. You leaped back, but not fast enough, his hands shot out, grabbing your wrist, flipping you before you could reach for another weapon.

The cold edge of his sword pressed against your throat.

For the first time, you truly looked at him, not as a mere human, but something far more dangerous.

His grip was firm, yet his touch was almost playful. His smirk was unreadable, a dangerous mix of amusement and something else entirely.

"You were saying?" he murmured.

Your lips curled, sharp canines glinting. "You assume too much."

Before his blade could descend, your form shifted- partly.

Your tail, thick with scales, shot forward, blocking the strike with an echoing clang. Sparks flew as his sword clashed against it, the force sending a tremor through the room.

Phainon’s smirk faltered for only a second before morphing into something else- pure, unfiltered intrigue.

"...Oh" he breathed, almost in awe. "Now this is getting interesting."

Phainon barely had time to act before you twisted, your tail sweeping low and knocking him off balance. His sword arm jerked, and you seized the opportunity, shifting back into your human form just enough to move swiftly, you grabbed his wrist, spun behind him, and yanked it up toward his back.

"Persistent" he said, amusement still lacing his voice, even as you forced him down.

"Annoying." you countered, your grip like iron as you shoved him to the cold stone floor.

The chains were still broken, so you resorted to something sturdier. From the corner, you grabbed thick, enchanted rope- strong enough to hold even creatures of great power. You looped it around his wrists, pulling them behind his back, then secured his legs in a way that left minimal room for struggle.

Despite being effectively restrained again, Phainon’s smirk remained, sharp and taunting. "You do like tying me up, don’t you? Should I be flattered or concerned?"

You yanked the rope tighter. "Be quiet."

A chuckle. "As you wish, my dear captor."

With a roll of your eyes, you stepped back, observing your handiwork. He was bound tightly this time, no easy way out, not unless he wanted to snap his own limbs.

But before you could relish your victory, he sighed dramatically.

"At least let me bathe before you keep me here like some caged beast" he drawled, his expression the perfect mixture of false suffering and noble exasperation. "I reek of blood. Is this any way to treat a prince?"

You scoffed. "You are a beast."

"And yet, I still deserve some dignity" he quipped, tilting his head. "Unless you enjoy the scent of dried blood and sweat?"

Your nose wrinkled. You didn’t.

Annoyance prickled at you, but you relented. He was still tied up. What harm could a bath do?

"Fine" you muttered.

Before he could gloat, you grabbed the ropes binding his limbs, dragged him up, and hauled him across the room.

Phainon let out a surprised grunt as you tugged him along. "Ah—so forceful. If you wanted to drag me somewhere private, you could’ve asked."

You ignored him.

The abandoned castle still had an intact bathhouse, a large pool of water fed by an underground spring. With one final tug, you yanked him forward and—

SPLASH!

You threw him in.

Phainon resurfaced with a sharp inhale, his silver hair now plastered to his face, water dripping down his broad shoulders. He blinked once. Twice. Then, he tilted his head up at you, his smirk both impressed and incredulous.

"You know" he mused, "when I asked for a bath, I expected something a little more… dignified."

You crossed your arms. "Be grateful I didn’t throw you off a cliff instead."

"Ah, but would you really? You seem far too attached already."

You grabbed a bucket and unceremoniously dumped more water over his head.

"Pfah!" He sputtered, shaking his head like a wet dog before blinking up at you again, lips curling into something downright mischievous. "If you wanted to get my clothes off, you could've just said so."

Your face twitched.

You promptly turned and walked out, leaving him tied up in the bath to deal with himself.

"Wait—! You’re just leaving me here?"

"You'll figure it out."

His laughter echoed behind you. "I like you more and more, little dragon."

The morning greeted you with an unfamiliar sound—soft, deep, and far too close. A hum. A HUM?

It took a moment for your groggy mind to register it. A gentle, unhurried melody, smooth as silk, drifting through the cool air of your chamber. You stirred, cracking one eye open, only to groan and bury your face into the pillow.

Phainon.

The silver-haired prince, your supposed prisoner, sat beside your bed, his arms resting casually on the frame as he leaned forward, watching you with the ease of a man who belonged there. He was freshly bathed from last night, his damp silver locks tousled slightly, his tunic loose at the collar. But what was most irritating was the absolute serenity in his expression as he continued to hum.

It wasn’t even an unpleasant sound. If anything, it was oddly calming.

"Shut up" you muttered, dragging the blanket over your head.

Phainon merely chuckled, his voice still low with sleep. "Good morning to you too, little dragon."

"Not a morning person?"

You groaned louder, pressing your hands over your ears.

His humming didn’t stop. If anything, it turned into an actual song, low, lyrical words spilling effortlessly from his lips.

You flung a pillow at him.

He caught it easily, smirking. "Tsk, so violent. I’m just trying to lighten the mood."

"You shouldn’t be here." You finally sat up, glaring. "How are you here?"

Phainon tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement. "You tied me up, threw me into a bath, and then left me. Did you really think that would keep me contained?"

Your frown deepened. He was strong, you knew that, but you had used enchanted rope this time. He shouldn’t have been able to slip free so easily.

As if reading your thoughts, Phainon propped his chin on one hand, smirking. "I’ll let you in on a secret," he murmured, voice dipping. "I’ve never been trapped. I just enjoy watching you try."

You hated how easily his words sent a flicker of unease down your spine.

But before you could reply, the distant sound of armor clanking and hurried footsteps caught your attention.

Phainon let out a sigh, stretching leisurely, as if the mere idea of more interruptions exhausted him. "Ah. Took them long enough."

You shot up, shoving him aside. "Stay here."

You didn’t wait for his response. Rushing down the stone corridors, you made your way to the castle’s entrance. The knights were already spilling into the ruins, swords drawn, scanning the area. Their captain, a broad-shouldered man with a scar across his cheek—stepped forward.

"You there!" he barked. "We received word that Prince Phainon was taken by a dragon. Where is he?"

You hesitated. Your first instinct was to tell them you were the dragon, but something in your gut warned you against it. You had no love for humans, but you weren’t bloodthirsty either. You had taken Phainon for ransom, not war.

But before you could decide how to respond— Phainon let out a chuckle.

He stepped out from behind you, his gaze sweeping over the assembled knights like a wolf among sheep. His sword was already in his hand.

The captain’s face twisted in relief. "Your Highness! We came to rescue you—"

"Rescue me?" Phainon repeated, voice laced with mockery. "From what, exactly?"

The knights stiffened. "From the dragon—!"

Phainon then moved.

Steel sliced through the air, swift and merciless. Blood sprayed across the stone.

Silence.

Then, chaos.

The remaining knights recoiled in horror, some shouting, some scrambling to draw their weapons. But it was already too late.

You could only watch.

Your breath hitched as the last knight staggered back, his sword shaking in his grasp. "Y-Your Highness, what—?"

Phainon drove his blade clean through the man’s chest.

A ragged gasp. A final shudder. Then, nothing.

As the last body collapsed, Phainon exhaled, flicking blood from his blade. His posture remained relaxed, unaffected, as if he had merely completed a morning exercise.

Then, slowly, he turned to you.

His smirk was still there, unchanged, unwavering. But his eyes…

Cold. Sharp. Unrelenting.

He murmured, voice smooth as silk. "Where were we?"

Your breath came in ragged bursts. The scent of blood—fresh, thick, suffocating, filled the abandoned halls. Around you, bodies lay strewn, once armored knights reduced to mere corpses. And at the center of it all stood him.

Phainon, the prince you had kidnapped, the human you thought was nothing more than an arrogant, troublesome captive. Now, standing before you, bathed in crimson, he was something else entirely.

"You…" Your voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. "What have you done?"

Phainon tilted his head, flicking stray droplets of blood from his blade. "What needed to be done" he said simply, as if that explained everything.

Your claws curled. You could feel the shift pulling at your skin, your instincts screaming at you to fight. "They came to help you."

He chuckled. "Did they?" His piercing blue eyes met yours, unblinking. "Or did they come to drag me back to a place I had no intention of returning to?"

You gritted your teeth. "You killed your own men!"

"And yet, here I stand." He took a step toward you, slow and deliberate. "And you, little dragon, haven’t run. Haven’t struck me down. Why is that?"

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You had so many reasons. The problem was, you couldn’t pick one.

Because you were stunned. Because your mind still reeled from what you had just witnessed.

"You’re a monster" you snarled.

Phainon exhaled, his smirk softening, something almost fond flickering across his blood-smeared features. "I never claimed to be a hero."

That was it. That was the moment your restraint snapped.

You lunged.

Your tail lashed out, striking toward him like a whip, but he was fast. He sidestepped, blade flicking up just in time to meet your claws. Sparks flew as steel met scale.

"That’s more like it" he purred.

You growled, twisting, your tail sweeping at his legs. He jumped back, but you were already on him again, clawed hands gripping his tunic, shoving him hard against the stone wall.

"You think this is amusing?" you hissed, your breath hot against his face.

Phainon smiled.

"You’re magnificent when you’re angry" he murmured.

Your grip tightened. "I should rip you apart."

His smirk didn’t waver. "But you won’t."

Damn him for being right.

You hated that you hesitated. You hated that your instincts, your dragon instincts, were at war with something else entirely.

"You’ve fascinated me from the moment you took me" he confessed. "At first, I thought it was amusement. Curiosity." He tilted his head, the sharp edges of his expression easing just slightly. "But it’s more than that, isn’t it?"

"You could have killed me" he continued, as if weaving the truth between you both. "Yet you didn’t." His eyes traced your face, your form, like he was memorizing every detail. "And I could have killed you. Yet I won’t."

Your chest heaved. "Why?"

His fingers brushed your wrist, so gently, so deliberately.

"Because I don’t want to." His smile turned wicked. "Because I want you."

Your world tilted.

Your claws flexed, your mind screaming at you to reject it. To deny him. But Phainon only looked at you like he had already won. And you hated that you didn’t know if he was wrong.

You were still seething when Phainon led you toward the kingdom’s gates.

You should have run. You should have killed him.

But instead, you were here, walking beside the man who should have been your prisoner, yet somehow, you felt like the one who had been captured.

The city was alive with murmurs the moment the two of you entered. The scent of blood still clung to Phainon’s clothes, a stark contrast to his relaxed demeanor. People gasped, whispered, stepped aside as he walked through the streets with you in tow.

But it was nothing compared to the reaction inside the royal palace.

The moment the throne room doors burst open, the king and queen, seated on their ornate thrones, turned with sharp, wide-eyed disbelief.

"Phainon?" the king's voice was filled with stunned relief. "You're alive?"

The queen clutched her chest. "The knights said.." She hesitated, gaze flickering toward you. "Who is this?"

You barely had time to part your lips before Phainon slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against him.

His next words sent a ripple of shock through the room.

"This?" His smirk was downright predatory. "This one belongs to me now."

The king's expression darkened. "Phainon!"

"You sent knights to retrieve me," he interrupted smoothly. "And they failed. Miserably." He glanced down at you, as if you were some prize he had won rather than a kidnapper-turned-reluctant-companion. "So I took something better in return."

Your lips parted in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

His grip tightened ever so slightly. "Careful, little dragon," he murmured against your ear, low enough that only you could hear. "You wouldn’t want them thinking you’re protesting too much, now would you?"

Your body tensed. He was toying with you. In front of his entire court.

The queen’s hands trembled. "You’re injured—"

"A small price for something so valuable." Phainon mused, tilting his head. "Wouldn’t you agree?"

The nobles in the room exchanged whispers, none daring to speak aloud.

The king exhaled slowly, fingers tightening over the armrest of his throne. "What are you planning, Phainon?"

The prince's smirk widened. "Why, to keep them, of course."

The king finally spoke, his voice cold and measured. "Phainon, do you even understand what you're saying? You cannot simply claim someone as yours—"

"Oh, but I already have." Phainon’s grip on you was firm, his tone laced with amusement. "And I dare anyone to take them from me."

The challenge hung thick in the air, sending another wave of murmurs through the court.

You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. "I am not some trinket to be owned."

Phainon turned to you, unbothered by your defiance, his lips curling into a lazy smirk. "Of course not." His hand brushed against yours, a deliberate taunt. "You’re something much rarer than that."

You glared at him, heat rising to your cheeks, not from flattery, but from the sheer audacity of this human.

"Fine" you bit out, eyes narrowing. "But don’t think for a second that this means I belong to you. Make sure to keep your promise."

Phainon chuckled, tilting his head as if indulging a joke only he understood. Then, leaning in, he whispered just loud enough for you to hear:

"Oh, little dragon… you just haven't realized it yet."

And with that, the prince turned back to his stunned parents, still grinning like a man who had won everything.

You exhaled slowly. Knowing at least you won't have to live a miserable life anymore.

-----

[next]

[moviestarmartini]

trátame suavemente. — franco colapinto x gf!reader

no quiero soñar mil veces las mismas cosas / ni contemplarlas sabiamente / quiero que me trates suavemente.

summary: reuniting after spending months apart and having recently recovered from a fight feels bittersweet. however, you have to push all your feelings aside at the end of the weekend to treat your boyfriend softly. 

wc: 2.3k 

warnings: established relationship, hispanic!reader, sentences in spanish, bit of angst, long distance relationship mention, takes place after the são paulo gp, nsfw (18+ mdni), p in v, bathroom sex, oral (m!receiving), lowk edging, whiny!franco, sub!franco if you squint, unprotected sex (get on your pills or shots or SOMETHING don’t raw it), creampie, soft sex and ambiance overall. 

A/N: based on this request ! and yess, franco with soda stereo again hehe. please listen to the el último concierto (remastered) version of this song when reading, it's a whole different vibe than the og !! mil besitos as always and feedback is appreciated

now playing... trátame suavemente by soda stereo

“Vení.” 

Come here. Franco’s voice echoed the minute he noticed your hesitant footsteps filling up the once empty silence. 

You leaned against the bathroom door frame, head leaned to the side. The lights were dimmed— proper of a fancy hotel, where else would you be able to adjust the lighting anyway?— He soaked in the steamy water clouded with the relaxing bath salts, trying to find some relief in what had been his worst weekend yet. Both on and off the track. 

“Hi.” You greeted softly with a tiny wave of your hand before it retreated back to its post across your chest. 

“Sabés que no muerdo a menos que me lo pidas.” He sat up, back straightening. Humor was a natural addition to his words, even when he was at his lowest. It never seemed to impress you, and it was something you could sometimes hate. 

The scene was still vivid and bright behind your eyelids. Counting down the days for him to come home, getting the call he was in fact going to take longer— because he’d made it. He’d made it to Formula One. Your heart sped up when reliving the memory, unaware of how difficult it was going to be from then on. 

Your relationship wasn’t exactly public, something you’d chosen yourself in case occasions like these arose. Then you’ve come to realize it gave him a certain freedom, the one that allowed him to flirt openly with interviewers and not face repercussions to his public image. 

Behind closed doors, it was another story. 

You tried. With your whole chest, you tried to not complain to him directly. It was his personality, the way he’d pulled you in from day one. One day, you just couldn’t. His absence was palpable, and after a week or so without any communication he’d texted to sulk about his mediocre results during the Mexican Grand Prix, having the fast lap taken away from him. 

You couldn’t hold it in. From the fact he was inconsistent in the relationship that had you suffering through a rollercoaster of emotions, to his absence digitally and the lack of interest in your doings. He’d barely have the time to check in with you, not about you. 

The calls were frantic, tears were shed, and he promised to be more present. The fight was left in a stalemate, and you cursed yourself when the flight reminder popped on your notifications. You couldn’t help but wait another week to see him? 

The same word with four letters that broke the silence moments ago was texted by him that same day, and you couldn’t hold a grudge even if you wanted to. You were never truly mad at him, you just missed him. So much so it ached in your bones, both set your heart ablaze and cooled it at the same time. 

Painful could only begin to describe it. 

Your worries were pushed away once you clarified everything, after the Saturday session was canceled and all you had on your shared agenda was cuddle up in the hotel room, quiet promises being made. After all the grief he had to withstand in the midst of this storm— literally— the last thing in your priorities was to stay on your own petty agenda. 

At his request to be closer, you sat at the closed lid of the toilet, unable to take your eyes off of him. 

“You’re too far away.” His insistence only furthered, eliciting a quiet laugh out of your lips. Without further ado, you stood up, stripping off the simple lounging set and folding it aside before sinking opposite to him on the warm water, growing cold with each passing moment now that the faucet was off. 

“What is it?” You blinked, head leaned to the side. Franco looked at you profoundly, and you wondered if he had something he was trying to figure out about you. 

“I missed you so much.” 

The words hung in the steamy air while you processed them, your bottom lip puckering out while a mixture of emotions washed over you. A part of you didn’t believe him, while the other ached for those words, even if it wasn’t the first time he said them during the weekend. 

“Really?” You wondered out loud, not caring that the water could spill out of the tub while you carefully moved to rest by his side, an arm wrapped around you. 

“Yeah.” He insisted, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m exhausted now. This was supposed to be such a good weekend… by the red flag all I wanted to do was lay my head on your tits for hours.” 

“Baboso,” You splashed him with water, both of your laughs echoing in the room, the acoustics amplifying the sound. 

“I missed you too, by the way.” You spoke up after a while of silence, the shapeless shapes he drew on your skin with his index finger lulling your heart to a lower rate. 

“Por si no era obvio.” You added soon after, your laugh making your heart skip a beat. You didn’t feel like your claims from just a week and a few days ago were irrational, and you stood by them. He also did, acknowledging his lack of care. 

But you were there, by his side. When he most needed it. And you wouldn’t change that for anything in the entire world. 

Instead of getting an answer with words, you felt his fingers tenderly cupping your chin, guiding your gaze to his in order to receive his lips in yours warmly. 

Careful and complex. His lips moved with calculation, and a sigh inevitably left yours. This is what your body ached, what made the desperately cold layer dissolve off your heart and set it fully ablaze under his careful affections. 

You moved to straddle his hips, arms wrapped around his neck. You could’ve sworn you heard a whine while he straightened up, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. 

Desperate and desirable. The kiss transitioned to match the steam in the room, his hands unable to find a place to stay put in, instead just roaming the soaked inches of skin he could get a hold off. 

“Me hizo muchísima falta tenerte así,” Franco let out in a pant, eager fingertips delving into the plush skin of your ass. Now it was your turn to answer with an action, leaning in to kiss down his neck, carefully placing affections on the prominent scar knowing it made him squirm. 

“Ay amor…” He let out a groan, unable to resist when your chest pressed against his torso. 

“¿Qué pasa?” You questioned quietly, fluttering your lashes up at him. You took his physical queues and understood them almost immediately. He couldn’t help but lean into his touch, shaky breath leaving his lips with each grazing of your fingers. 

You noticed how he swallowed hard, just shaking his head to signify nothing was going on— nothing was inherently wrong. 

“Sit up here.” You instructed quietly, patting the tiled edge before the tub began, seemingly used for people to sit and dry themselves. This once, you two were definitely not going to use it for that. 

He followed the command obediently, watchful eyes following your movements while you positioned yourself between his legs. 

“You’ve had such a rough week…” Your voice was hypnotizing, in the same way your hand stroking his length was. “Let me take care of you, mkay?” 

The words he planned on letting out found themselves choked back when you deposited a kiss on the skin edging between his inner and outer thigh. He melted into his spot almost literally, manspreading to give you more access to leave the warm affections that brought goosebumps to his skin. 

You batted your eyelashes innocently up at him while your flat tongue licked the underside of his hard cock, green eyes hyper-focused on your lips wrapping on the flushed tip. 

“Fuck…” He managed to groan out, his right hand reaching to clutch your hair while the other held onto the ceramic, preparing himself for what he’d been desiring for what felt to be years, when in fact it had only been a short couple months. 

You knew how to treat him, how to push his buttons just right without exceeding into a rougher context. All you wanted was for him to relax, at least for now. That didn’t mean you didn’t put in the effort, your hand encompassed what your mouth couldn’t take even when it almost hit the back of your throat.

“Que linda te ves con la boquita llena,” He caressed your cheek tenderly while you took a breather, his hips jerking upwards ever so slightly to thrust into your hand.

“Hm just for you,” You winked in agreement to the compliment before wrapping your lips around the now leaking tip, humming at the taste of the precum on your tongue and inevitably down your throat. 

“Así, así,” Franco whined the minute you started bobbing your head up and down his length with precision and speed. He threw his head back, allowing the moans to leave his mouth freely, mixing in a dangerous cocktail with his heavy breaths. 

The moment was perfect. You knew Franco was getting lost in it, nearing the edge with each desperate jerk of his hips matching up to your nose grazing his lower abdomen. He could still feel the warm water, but nothing could compare with the sensation of your throat. 

Unless… 

“Pará, pará,” He breathed out, his tone high pitched, containing himself into not bursting out the seams right then and there. 

“¿Qué pasó mi rey? Did I do something wrong?” You pulled away visibly concerned, straightening up still on your knees. 

His response was a weak shake of his head, chest rising up and down. He still rested his back against the tiled wall, regaining his composure. Your eyes traced every inch of his skin, every mole and freckle, subconsciously licking your lips. His laugh snapped you out of your shamelessly perverted ravaging, and you looked up at him with a smile. 

“Te amo tanto.” He muttered, leaning in to close the gap between your mouths halfway. Even if seconds ago you were wondering why on earth he would edge himself, the kiss told you everything you needed, adding to the support his hands gave you to get on your feet and sit on his lap. 

His lips parted from yours only to give soft kisses to your cheek and jaw, traveling the marvelous road down your neck. Your moans were soft, beginning to ease into it when a curious hand parted your legs open. 

“Fran…” You breathed you, your hand reaching to caress the hair falling near his nape; it was longer than usual, he needed a trim— you noted mentally, reminding to comment on it later. 

“Let me feel you,” He whispered against your skin, the action forming goosebumps on the area. “Estás tan mojadita; porfa.” 

He didn’t need to beg twice, your back already pulled away from his chest, shifting around in his lap and raising your hips a little in order to sink down his length, your sighs of relief harmonizing. 

“I missed this so much,” You noticed you had rendered him almost incoherent from the way he could barely formulate the words between heavy breaths and moans, a battle to keep his eyes open to watch your figure as you bounced on his hard cock. 

“Ay ese culito…” He groaned, the sound of a smack bouncing on the walls before it remixed with your yelp, but it only encouraged to move faster, wanting to give him the show he deserved. 

Franco didn’t allow himself to get lost in the mesmerizing movement of your body, instead pulling you back to be as close to him as humanly possible, his hand cupping your chin to almost drag your face near his. 

The kiss was sloppy from his part, the grinding of your hips was sharp in comparison, and he couldn’t focus. Your wet skin against his, the noises you started making the moment he started toying with that sweet spot. 

“Amor,” He couldn’t help but call your attention, ripping his lips off of yours in order to speak. You noticed the way his brows furrowed— and how could you not? he was always so expressive— his bottom lip puckering out while he tried to make out the following words. 

But he didn’t need to. 

“Yes,” You nodded, feeling your own orgasm approach quickly. From the moment you stripped and dipped in the water you knew you weren’t going to last long in whatever activity you might engage, and you were okay with that. 

“¿Si?” Franco whined, his lashes fluttering while his eyes fell shut before he could hide his face in the crook of his neck. 

“Si. Cum inside.” You confirmed, feeling his lips press against your shoulder blade before the conjoined noises filled up the room, the hand that occupied the space between your legs failing in its constant rhythm, while the other dug into the doughy merge your hips and upper thighs conformed. 

You let your eyes close while the wave of pleasure washed over you, chests rising up and down rhythmically. It felt like you had just floated down from the sky, settling down into the reality of the position— a bit insane, to say the least— you found yourselves in, guided by the pure lust and yearning of each other after the sudden separation. 

“All good over there?” You laughed softly, receiving a small ‘eh’ in a high pitched tone. It took Franco another moment before he raised his face, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your jaw before his arms wrapped around your midriff and into a tight hug. 

“Con vos? Todo perfecto.”  

[signedkoko]

Signed with Love - Hazbin Cast

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Characters - Adam | Alastor | Charlie | Cherri | Husk | Lucifer | Lute | Pentious | Vaggie

Series Parts Overlords & SIns - Here! Helluva Cast - Here!

Sup bitch,

Looking for a valentine, cupid told me ur my soulmate, so how about you be mine?

You know I love teasing ya babe, but really, I got a reso for that restaurant you love, I'd tell you what to wear but the less the better.

Lova ya hot stuff

ORIGINAL DICKMASTER

Salutations my lovely doe!

Another opportunity to show my dear just how much I love them, what more could I ask?

I'd offer my cooking, but I know you don't have quite the palette for venison. Instead, I've prepared a private dinner, catered to by a lovely cafe a good friend of mine runs.

I'll be there to get you at half past two,

A.

Hiii ❣

I hope you don't mind me asking but I REALLY wanted to be the one to ask if you'd be my valentine?

I haven't decided what we should do yet, I was thinking rock climbing, or how about a fancy dinner? Ahh I have so many ideas! We can talk about it later!

Thinking of you always,

Charlie (Morningstar, Princess of Hell, Manager of the Hazbin Hotel (now booking!!), potential valentine of you!)

Heya girly,

I'm not one for holidays, but I know you reallllly wanted to try this one out. So! be my valentine?

I'll bring you to that great viewpoint I hang at, maybe show you how I make some of my arsenal. Just dress comfy, it's going to be a lot of moving!

You better be swooning already!

Your favourite 💣

Hey,

I'm thinking this year we could try something new. As stupid as it sounds, will you be my valentine?

I've got a stack of rental movies and one empty ass theatre room. Still sure no one realized we even have one, but what the hell, right? Let me know what you think and we can go pick up some drinks before.

Looking forward to it,

Husker

Hiii ❣

I know you told me not to go crazy this year, but how could I not! So, valentine...

I left a bag with this note, it's got a few outfits for you to pick that will match mine! Just be ready by 6 tonight, we've got a lot of stops. Drinks, dinner, a performance at Ozzie's, and a reserved spot in my bed tonight.

Happy valentines day,

Yours truly

I pray this letter reaches you,

Maybe you don't expect it of me, but you deserve to feel as special as everyone else this valentines.

So, I've got a surprise dinner set up for us this valentines. If you are willing, dress nice for four tomorrow and I can take you for a flight before it. Just don't wear anything that might fall off.

Your angel,

Lt. Lute

Dearest serpentine,

It would be ever so joyous to accompany you this valentines, if that is okay of course!

My egg bois have insisted upon serenading us and treating us to a nice dinner in my war machine. I promise you it is in prim and proper shape for such a day.

Yours sincerely

(Future) Overlord Pentious

Hey hun,

You've talked a lot about valentines recently, and while I know we said we'd overlook it, I feel like you deserve to know how much I love you.

When you get the chance, I've got a bottle of wine and a free night to decide what we want to do. Just swing by after eight?

See ya valentine,

Vaggie

Authors Note - Ahahaha can you tell I don't write Adam much? Either way, part one of the valentines series 🖤 If you don't have a valentine this year, please allow me to be yours! Or let me know which of these folks you'd accept a letter from 🤭

[livingmybestfakelife]

For Once In My Life (2 of 2)

Modern!Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Annie Moore

Pt. 1

It was now five months into Bianca’s life that Annie was fully comfortable to be truly out and about again. Though she had a safe and healthy pregnancy and birth, her body still needed time to heal. Her birthday was in a couple of days and she was in a good mood, mind, body and soul. Smoke knows that she’s never been one to make a big deal of her birthday but he still did gestures to make her to feel special. This year he booked them flights to New York and got them a room at The Carlyle. It would be a weekend stay with just the two of them, Stack and Mary insisted on babysitting Bianca so that the they can have time to themselves, plus they loved Bi like she was their own, and they made that clear every time they saw her.

“You better not hog her!”

Mary shouted. As soon as they entered the house to get the baby, Stack immediately booked it towards Bianca who was in her rocker, he eagerly picked her up, cooing and kissing her plump cheeks.

“Hey my niecey boo, Unc missed you, yes I did, I missed my stanka butt”

She laughed when he pretended to eat her neck, her gums on full display as proof of how tickled she was.

“Come on Elias, give her here!”

He rolls his eyes and hands her to Mary.

“Hold her head”

“I know how to hold a baby, gon’na”

Smoke chuckles at their back and forth as he walks downstairs with the rest of his and Annie’s luggage. Their flight wasn’t until six more hours so they stayed for a bit to prep them on how to care for Bianca while they’re gone.

“Okay, these are her favorite toys, and you already know her eating and sleep schedules, oh and she loves Gracie’s Corner and Mr. Rogers Neighborhood, and I packed her plenty of diapers and her cream-I feel like I’m forgetting something”

“It’s gonna be alright baby, I packed everything”

Smoke reassures Annie in the middle of her nervously listing off the instructions. He feels her softly exhale while rubbing her back, this would be the first time she’s away from Bianca for this long since she was born. Stack goes to look out the window and sees a car pulling up, as it got closer up the driveway he chuckled to himself and shook his head.

“Boy oh boy”

He opens the door and goofily waves at the man exiting the car and walking up to the house.

“Well good evening sir, welcome to Chateau de Moore”

He says in an exaggerated fancy voice, which makes the man to roll his eyes.

“Papa!”

Annie exclaims and goes over to greet her father. Ezekiel Freeman was the patriarch of one of Mississippi’s oldest, infamous and some would say influential families.

“Hey baby, happy birthday”

“Thank you pa”

The two embrace while Smoke and Stack make brief eye contact, they know what’s about to come following this whole exchange. But no one felt the tension more than Smoke himself. As an investor, Ezekiel knows about the small financial hit that the twins’s club got, it was one of the reasons he was here right now. Club Juke was their most profitable front, one that helped purchase the land and built the home that it sits on. It was all for Annie and the family they’ve always planned to build together. Smoke walks over and shakes Zeke’s hand when it was offered to him, the grip being more firm than usual, oh yeah, he’s in his bag about this.

“Welp! Come on Mary, let’s get lil bit in the car”

Stack couldn’t wait to exit stage left away from the awkwardness right now. He gathered Bianca’s weekend bags while Mary went to put her in the car seat.

“Baby girl is it okay if I speak to Elijah alone for a moment? It won’t take long”

She sighs but nods, she hopes he goes easy on him with whatever is obviously bothering him.

“Okay pop, but be nice about….whatever this is about”

She kisses his cheek and goes to the kitchen. Annie never bothers to argue too much with Smoke, Stack and her father about their work, calling it “men’s business”. She trusts Elijah to do the right thing in taking care of his duties, he’s never disappointed her before. They sit down on the recently reupholstered couch. Ezekiel cleared his throat before staring at Smoke, waiting for him to start the conversation, his son in law got the hint and sighed.

“Listen, I know you’re expecting me to tell you not to worry about what you’ve heard”

“I am”

“And I know you’re gonna worry anyway”

“I will”

“But I’m serious, there is nothing to get concerned about, the club is in a bit of a dry season because of the economy, but me and Stack are handling it….it’s not my fault”

“Elijah, you really think I’m blaming you for this? I know you have no control over inflation and all the other stuff that’s going on in the world right now, that’s not even really why I’m here”

Smoke raises an eyebrow, if it’s not the business profit declining then what’s with that sour mug of his?

“What’s the matter then?”

“Tiko Boy got pinched yesterday”

Smoke sighs and shakes his head.

“Shit”

“That’s not all….the bunker got raided by the ATF, half of our supply got seized”

Smoke stands up and begins pacing back and forth, one of the things he does when he’s stressed. That bunker was hidden away in a part of Texas that managed to be a well kept secret for the past decade. It was Ezekiel’s before Annie married Smoke and he let him share the space with him.

“The fed I got on my payroll says that no one knows it’s ours”

“I would hope so since we make sure it’s untraceable”

“Yeah well, it’s gone now, that means we gotta be more careful, watch our backs, we got too comfortable”

He finishes pacing and sits back down. There’s a long pause between the two while they think to themselves, this is the last thing they needed right now, things like this are sure to have a domino effect, God forbid it’s one that lands on his doorstep.

“This is just what I need right now, to be stressed out before leaving”

“Oh yeah, Annie told me that you’re taking her to New York, the big apple, so much to do, so much to look at, I was never a city man myself, but my Annie always liked to broaden her horizons”

“Yeah, I’m taking her and Bianca to Switzerland this Christmas”

“You got all these extravagant plans, think you can maintain it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You know I provide for my family”

“Yes I do. But do you remember how they did Ramone and his daddy? When they got busted their accounts got frozen. His wife and kids had to go on welfare and move in with her mother in law-“

“That won’t happen to Annie alright, Ramone was always a bum nigga anyway, couldn’t straighten up to save his mama’s life”

He sighs and leans back, it’s clear that he doesn’t want to have this type of conversation right now, not while he’s supposed to be happy, Zeke loves to lecture him at the most inconvenient times.

“When you gave me your blessing to marry your daughter, I made you a promise that she would always be taken care of and I meant that. This land and house, both in her name. I have a revocable trust for Bianca, there’s also money in accounts overseas that will belong to her after my death or if I get pinched bad and there’s plenty more assets where that came from but right now I’d rather go ahead and get us to the airport, you how I hate rushing to check in”

Zeke heard the frustration in his voice the entire explanation. He knew that he pushed his buttons a little, but he couldn’t help but do it. He broke his back his entire fatherhood journey to make sure that Annie never wanted for anything, that she never had to rely on too big or too small hand me downs from relatives, be underweight because he could only eat one meal a day if he wasn’t in school, have the lights and water be cut off. So when Smoke walked into his office two years into his and Annie’s courtship and asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage, he trusted him to continue taking care of the greatest gift God has ever blessed him with, and to be the same type father to his grandchildren that he was to Annie.

“Of course…..I just wanted to make sure we were still on the same page”

“Always. Well we better get going, I’ll see you when we get back”

The men stood up and gave each other a more firm handshake. Annie entered the room, overhearing some of the conversation but didn’t let it show on her face, she only smiled at her dad, kissed his cheek and said her goodbyes before going to the car while Smoke loaded up the trunk with their luggage, Zeke walked to his own car and gave him a final nod then left.

“Papa wasn’t too difficult was he?”

“Nah nothing I couldn’t handle”

She kisses his cheek

“Good”

“We’re gonna have half a dozen east coast oysters, a medium rare cowboy cut prime ribeye, spaghetti bolognese, whipped potatoes and truffle fries…oh and a slice of key lime pie, that’s it….thank you”

Annie walks out of the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy white bath robe with the hotel logo engraved on it and bath slippers to match. The warm shower refreshed her after a long day of shopping, sight seeing and a matinee Broadway play that Smoke pulled a lot of strings to get since it was one that was highly anticipated and sold fast. Her official birthday wouldn’t start until tomorrow, but he made sure her first day in the big apple started off with a bang, tomorrow would be more casual though, as that was the way she typically preferred it to be. He already had reservations to a sought after exclusive restaurant and they would probably see a movie afterwards, she deserved all of this and even more.

She laid across the bed and smiles up at him, he grins back and kissed her forehead.

“You know I gotchu right? Everything you want imma hustle to get it for you”

“I know baby, I’ve never doubted that, and don’t let papa get into your head”

He playfully roles his eyes and she giggles

“It was bound to happen, things have been slippery with your crew, but as long as you know that you have your business in order, you’ve got nothing to worry about, you’re the man of our house, not my pa, I trust you, okay”

He nods and feels a weight lifting from his chest, the last thing he wants is losing her respect, he didn’t worry so much about Zeke, but if Annie ever doubted him, he would feel like a failure.

She rests her head on his lap and he reaches down to play with her hair, she was still warm from the shower, the scent of the hotel soap wafting off of her, she made his hands stop shaking, always adding comfort to the nightmare his mind could be sometimes, but as long as he had his dream girl and their daughter, the risks he took everyday would always be worth it.

tags:

@sinnersappreciation

@childishgambinaax

@uzumaki-rebellion

@browngirldominion

@tforpresz

@stormynovashambler

@spicypiscesssss

@stuckonneutral

@m0netm0netxo12

@mahoganybreeze

@anniensmoke3

[galactic-magick]

A Proper Date: Viktor x Reader

Summary: Viktor wants to take you out on a proper date. Sequel to my fic "The Handsome Assistant."

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: mostly just fluff, some mentions of suggestive stuff towards the end

Author's Notes: Reworked my Arcane masterlist to reflect the reading order for my Vik fics that are in the same continuity, and future fics will now be added to it in the correct order. Thank you guys for all the love it really means the world to me!

-

Life is sweet ever since Viktor’s been in it—and even more so now that you get to kiss him every day.

In all honestly, your routine hasn’t drastically changed. You still distract each other at work way too much, and he still keeps you in conversation long past when you should go home. But now you also stop by each other’s apartments, cook for each other, and spend late nights together in the Academy library and labs working on projects.

Your roommates love him, letting him in even if you’re out doing errands at the moment. Today is one of those days, a bright smile stretching across your face when you see him upon arriving home.

“Viktor!” you drop your things and skip into his arms. You look down and see he’s dressed up a bit more than usual, and your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’ve been wanting to take you on a proper date,” he says. “We can go whenever you’re ready.”

“Vik, you know I don’t need fancy dates—“

“Hush.” he presses a finger to your lips. “Go put on something nice, alright?”

You nod, rushing back to your room to change. You meant what you said, you really haven’t minded never having a “proper” date. Neither of you make a ton of money, really just enough to live on and maybe a tiny bit leftover, so you’ve never expected to be taken out to restaurants or really any sort of activity you have to pay for. Most times your dates are making dinner for each other after work, Viktor making you the delicious recipes of his ancestors, mainly. Other times you just people-watch out in the city, chatting about anything and everything. You honestly would do anything with him no matter what it was.

Viktor’s eyes soften at the sight of you when you return to him, taking your hand to leave.

When you approach where you’re going, your grip on his hand tightens and your jaw drops.

“Viktor, you didn’t…”

Your gaze falls onto one of the fanciest restaurants in Piltover, complete with live music and an open ceiling with a perfect view of the stars, both things he knows you love.

“Viktor, this is too much,” you whisper, still flabbergasted. “I would never ask you to pay for a place like this.”

“What makes you think you would have to ask?” he chuckles, pulling you inside. “I’ve been saving up to take you somewhere nice.”

The inside is truly gorgeous, no doubt full of decorative items that are worth twice everything you own. The live band’s sound fills the entire room, setting a soft mood for a night under the sky. You feel entirely out of place, looking at everyone around you, but your eyes always return to Viktor, who’s looking at you like you’re the only thing of value in sight.

He insists that you order anything you want, of course, despite your protests. He wants to treat you, and eventually you have to accept that.

When you finish eating and the restaurant winds down to close, he asks the waitress something that you don’t quite catch while you’re listening to the last song. Viktor hands her quite a decent tip, then motions for you to follow her.

She leads you both to the back of the restaurant, passing multiple signs that say “Staff Only,” then finally gesturing to a tall flight of stairs.

“Up there,” she says. “Don’t stay too long though, I could get in big trouble if you’re caught.”

Viktor thanks her and she leaves the two of you alone.

“I...may have convinced her to let us go to the roof.” he smirks.

You glance back at the stairs, “Vik, you really don’t have to do this for me.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” he assures you. “Just...go slow.”

The amount of stairs is ludicrous, but it’s not too long before you reach the top and open the door to the beautiful starry night.

You go as close to the edge as you can without falling, craning your neck to look at the miraculous view. Viktor is close behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back.

“Careful, darling,” he mumbles into your shoulder, kissing it before looking up for himself.

You stare in silence for several minutes, Viktor still holding you close.

“Can we live up here?”

He chuckles, “That might be too high a request, I’m afraid,” he nuzzles his nose into your hair. “But I assure you, someday I will give you a place with a view like this.”

You turn around, surprised by the unwavering authenticity in his features. You’ve only been together for a few months now, was he really already thinking about a future with you?

“Viktor—“

His expression quickly changes into one of panic, “My apologies, I didn’t mean to be so forward—“

“No, Viktor,” you wrap your arms around his neck, your faces inches apart. “I’d like that someday too.”

-

Sneaking back out goes smoother than you expected, and Viktor insists on walking you home as usual. There’s a warmth to your heartbeat, a welcome contrast to the chill outside. You can’t believe he went through all the trouble to arrange this night for you, genuinely wanting to surprise you with something extravagant.

When you arrive to your apartment, Viktor walks in with you when you’re met with quite the sight on the couch. Your roommate, Eli, is snuggled up with Sevika, and your snickering quickly wakes them up.

“If I had known you were having a date night too, I would’ve stayed out with Vik longer,” you laugh.

“Well we were going to go to my room, but someone fell asleep on the couch,” Eli nudges Sevika.

“Hmmph,” Sevika grunts, too groggy to properly retaliate.

“We’ll leave you be, then,” you giggle all the way back to your room, pulling Viktor behind you.

“Those two are certainly...something,” Viktor says as you close the door.

“I’m just glad they’re happy,” you shrug. “Anyway—sorry—I didn’t even ask you if you wanted to stay. You can go home if you’d like. Just maybe close your eyes walking back through the living room…”

“No, no. I’d like to stay.” he nods.

“Okay.” you sigh, slowly coming to the realization that this will be the first night you’ve spent together. It’s a bit terrifying, if you’re honest, no matter how much you love him.

You continue, avoiding his gaze, “But just so you know, I’m not ready yet to—um…”

Viktor takes your face in his hands as you drift off, “You don’t have to explain yourself, love. I would be more than happy to simply sleep next to you tonight.”

You nod, most of your anxieties subsiding.

You borrow some pajamas from your roommates that would fit him, then get changed yourself. Your bed certainly isn’t meant for two people, but you both snuggle in well enough to be comfortable. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Viktor rubs your arms and back, pressing kisses to your head. Holding you long after you’ve fallen asleep and his own arms have gone a bit numb.

He smiles at your stirs and snores, your fists gripping him closer the further you drift. He may never be able to go back to sleeping alone after experiencing this.

“Someday...I’ll give you everything you could ever want.” he whispers, closing his eyes.

[vampiresarchive]

Manifested Dream Vacation in Two Weeks (with zero effort)

I have many success stories, but I wanted to share this one in particular because it addresses the question: How actually easy is it to manifest your desires?

Here's your answer: ridiculously easy.

And the reason I say it's ridiculous in particular is because of what a lot of you 'claim' you need in order to achieve your desire: Perfect self concept, absolute knowing with no doubts, and constant around-the-clock persistence.

Sure, this all can be true. But, if you were in a similar position as me back then: always looking for 3d confirmation, so much doubt etc. You can still manifest.

Here's my personal testimony: Way back when at a time where my self concept was trash and I acted like the 3D was the God of me, I had really wanted to go on vacation. I hadn't been on one in six years (pandemic) and due to some financial and timing issues, there was no way we were going anywhere anytime soon.

However, none of this was true in imagination. In imagination, I was already having the time of my life. I was shopping, flirting with foreign men, looking at gorgeous sites, etc.

So I did what anyone would and I scripted it, i am going to Dubai. Very simple, nothing fancy, but that's all that was needed. A decision.

I would read this script absentmindedly whenever I thought of it (not even daily, probably twice a week) I also barely thought of it in passing, if at all.

Just two weeks later, my mother tells me she's booking a flight to Dubai just because she feels like going. A whole two weeks after that, I was on a plane to my dream trip.

Do you realize the sheer ridiculousness of how little effort I put in? I probably said that affirmation like four times before it came true. Four times!! And some of you insist on setting alarms and doing meditations and whatever it is you do nowadays.

I didn't believe it was going to happen. I had 0 inner knowing. I just said I AM [insert happening, action, or scenario] and...Ta-da! How strenuous, truly.

Think before putting in effort. Does it even affect the end result if you've affirmed 100 times or just once? (No. The answer is no.)

Good luck to everyone who is reading this; though, I doubt you'll need it.

[orimuraa]

𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪ Go big or go home - Lee Heeseung

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆famous model, y/l/n y/n, has caught the eye of famous f1 racer, lee heeseung, but how will they ever be able to interact when they're lives are so different? ⨾

۶ৎ f1 racer!heeseung x fem model!reader ┆fake dating to lovers, slow burn┆cursing, alcohol, age gap? (2 years), kissing, petnames, angst, some fluff┆ wc 4.8k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: its finally here!!! tysm to everyone who waited for this and i hope you enjoy! this is my first super long fic and i would really appreciate reblogs and feedback! tysm!!

TEASER

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

the adrenaline of racing was always too much for y/n. her life was the exact opposite of that type of life and she never wanted to get in anything like that.

she had worked so hard for the reputation she now has, putting literal blood, sweet and tears into her career as a model.

but now look where she was. she was the global face of dior, prada, miu miu, louis vuitton and so many more brands.

everyone knew who y/l/n y/n was in korea. she was such an icon for the modeling world and never seen slipping up.

it was like she had no flaws.

but lee heeseung was the literal opposite of the whole life y/n had built for herself.

he was careless and daring, not completely caring about anyone’s opinions about him or his reputation.

not to mention, he was insanely hot. his looks stealing the hearts of many of his fans.

heeseung liked racing cause he felt like he could truly be himself—careless and reckless.

and heck, he’s made it his whole life now! he was an f1 racer who had quite the following now.

y/n was very much aware of who lee heeseung was, and even watched some of the races he was in.

she had to admit, he was indeed hot, but what would her fans think of her and heeseung?

her “fans” always criticized every man that got close to her, saying they were unworthy of her attention.

so to avoid anymore scandals that could truly ruin her career, y/n has steered clear of basically any man in sight.

heeseung couldn’t deny that the girl was pretty, she was drop dead gorgeous! but he knew what happens to people when they get too close to y/n, and that was something that he did not want happening to him.

“miss y/n! you’re going to be late for the fashion show due to the flight being delayed..” one of y/n’s staff informed, refreshing the flight page over and over.

y/n was supposed to fly out to a prada event in milan, but due to the weather, her flight was delayed by 2 hours, meaning she was gonna make it the the show late.

“then i guess we will have to get ready in the airport,” y/n sighed, subconsciously twirling a strand of her hair out of anxiety.

what was heeseung gonna do? he’s never been to a fashion show before! and not to mention, his staff has little to no experience with such fancy events like this!

his staff is for his races and making sure all his gear is in one spot for him, not dressing him up in a $10,000 suit for some prada show.

on the other hand though, heeseung was excited for a new experience, and he got a free flight down in first class! so it was a win-win.

his teammates were giving him a bunch of complaints out of jealousy because of a specific person.

and that person, was y/l/n y/n. his teammates were so jealous that he was going to the same event as her and had the chance to talk to her.

to heeseung, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. big name celebrities go to these types of shows all the time! so what’s the big deal about y/l/n y/n?

sure she had the visuals of an angel and heeseung may or may not have felt a few butterflies whenever he saw her on a magazine or on an article online.

but now that he was actually gonna meet her (potentially), he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

y/n was able to make it out of the airport bathroom just on time where her staff rushed to get her ready for the show.

she arrived at the location of the show, mentally preparing herself for the camera flashes and screams around her.

once she stepped out of the car, she made sure to wave and smile politely to all the fans that waiting hours to see her.

“you’ll be sitting here next to mr. lee,” one of the hosts told y/n once she made it inside.

“oh hello! i’m glad i get to sit next to someone who speaks korean as well! my english is…well..not very good,” she smiled sheepishly.

“hi, i’m lee heeseung and yes, it is quite nice to have someone to converse with,” heeseung smiled, a couple of unwanted butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

“ah right! i’m y/l/n y/n,” she smiled, the lights dimming and cutting off their conversation.

throughout the show, y/n and heeseung shared light comments with each other and for once, y/n kinda forgot that she had the type of career and reputation that if she talked to a guy, she would be caught up in a dating scandal.

the after party was a very..unique?…experience. for heeseung, it was a very new experience to have such fancy people surrounding him while he was just a mere car racer.

but y/n made it better. they both weren’t big fans of going out and socializing with new people—especially if they needed to speak in their very broken english.

“so what’s it like? the thrill of racing?” y/n asked, nursing a glass of wine. why’d she even have it? she hated alcohol.

“it’s really an experience. you get to live life freely, not really caring about being reckless. it’s kinda my escape from the world, y’know?” heeseung chuckled, taking another sip of his glass.

“hm, must be nice..” y/n murmured, thinking about what her life would be like if she wasn’t a model and if she didn’t have all these expectations of being “perfect” all the time.

the two talked for the rest of the party, sharing small touches on the arm whenever one said something funny.

“thank you heeseung, for keeping me company and letting me be..well, myself,” y/n said softly. “i have to go catch a flight back to seoul but maybe we can stay in contact? here’s my number.” she said, sliding him a piece of paper.

“for sure. it was great talking with you y/n,” heeseung smiled back, sending her a small wink.

little did they know, someone had managed to get a few photos of their interactions.

the next morning, y/n and heeseung both faced faced the consequences of their actions.

FAMOUS F1 RACER, LEE HEESEUNG, AND FAMOUS MODEL, Y/L/N Y/N, ARE DATING?

the article shocked y/n and she immediately rushed to call her manager.

“what the fuck?” heeseung whispered to himself. he ran a hand through his hair, reading the article about him and y/n.

in the article, there was a photo of y/n touching his arm while laughing and heeseung is seen with a wide smile on his face.

fuck. he was so screwed. y/n was so screwed. he immediately opened twitter just to see his name and y/n’s trending for their dating scandal.

“oh for fucks sake!” he turned off his phone and threw it onto the bed.

y/n had just gotten off of her flight when the article reached her, making her push through the usual airport crowds of paparazzi worse.

“is it true you’re dating lee heeseung?”

“why lee heeseung? he’s no good for you!”

“y/n ssi? are the rumors true?”

it was all too overwhelming for y/n and the constant shoving and clicking of cameras was most definitely not helping.

it felt like she had to trudge a mile through mud just to make it to the car, letting a sigh of relief out as she sunk into the chair.

as she sat there though, she wondered how heeseung was taking it? he might have it worse than her since some of her “fans” were quite toxic to the people she got into scandals with.

he hasn’t texted..he probably wants nothing to do with me. y/n thought to herself, looking down at her empty messages.

all the way back in milan, heeseung was getting ready to head back to korea, not exactly thrilled to hear what his teammates had to say about his new scandal.

fuck. how’s y/n holding up? she must have it much worse than me. heeseung thought to himself, nervously bouncing his knee up and down.

once he made it to the airport, he was unexpectedly swarmed by crazy fans just trying to get an answer to their questions.

“are you really dating her? she’s too good for you.”

“how long have you been dating miss y/n?”

heeseung was not having it. he pushed his way through the crowd of people, pulling down his beanie even further.

throughout the flight, heeseung found himself constantly thinking about y/n. why though? did he really like her? or was it just out of pity? if these were the reactions to their dating scandal, how would they react if they were actually dating?

wait- when would they ever actually date?

either way, it would probably ruin both of their careers.

y/n paced back and forth, waiting for any form of contact from heeseung.

she didn't exactly expect him to contact her especially after this huge scandal, but she wanted to make sure he was doing okay.

she eventually gave up on waiting after another 30 minutes went by with no new notification.

with a sigh, she sat down on the couch, lost in thought.

would she be able to just ignore this scandal?

would it be just a quick scandal? or a long-lasting one?

many questions occupied y/n's thoughts, causing her to miss the way her phone vibrated next to her.

finally checking her phone, she saw a message from lee heeseung.

hey, i know i'm probably the last person you want to hear from but i just wanted to make sure you were doing okay with all the crazy fans

it took a couple minutes for y/n to actually process the words on the screen before quickly texting back.

oh hi heeseung! no worries, i was actually scared that you wouldn't wanna talk to me since it's mainly my 'fans' who are making this a big deal

she had only formally met heeseung for a day but she couldn't help but slowly fall for his charm.

y/n loved how care-free he was and despite his reputation as a racer, he was actually a sweetheart.

the next few days consisted of hiding from the public, not being seen anywhere, and a lot of meetings with her company about how they could cover up this scandal.

meanwhile, heeseung hadn't raced since he came back from milan which started to worry his teammates.

"dude, you alright? you've been so different since your scandal with y/n," one of his teammates stated, finally talking about the elephant in the room.

all heeseung did was sigh and stand up.

“yeah i’m fine,” he grunted, grabbing his jacket and walking out. his teammates exchanged glances with each other. it was obvious heeseung wasn’t doing well.

hey, are you free to meet up?

heeseung didn’t exactly know why he texted y/n.

why would she even wanna meet up with him? god he felt so stupid after sending that text.

sure! you can come over to my place! just make sure not to be seen

heeseung’s eyes widened as he read the text over and over. heeseung enjoyed y/n’s company and even though they were polar opposites, he found a source of comfort while talking to her.

she was so sweet and genuine with him unlike his crude teammates and competitors.

he quickly slipped on his shoes, clicking on the address y/n sent him.

when he arrived, he noticed how grand the apartment complex was. the building was clean and screamed “rich vibes”.

“you made it! hi heeseung!” as soon as the door opened, heeseung was greeted with y/n’s sweet smile.

“hey, sorry for the sudden text. i just..needed to talk to you,” he sighed, looking down at his shoes.

y/n took a guess that it was probably about their dating scandal so she just smiled sympathetically and let him in.

the first thing heeseung noticed about y/n’s place was how homey it was.

it was neat and had cute decorations that made heeseung smile.

she was such a professional model on camera and that’s all he’s known her for, so seeing this side of y/n was refreshing to see.

the plushies and little figured that scattered the shelves and furniture reminded him that y/n was still young and was practically living two lives.

“oh, sorry about the mess…here you can sit here,” she smiled sheepishly, moving a big stuffy off the couch and motioning for heeseung to sit.

“would you like anything to drink?” god she was so charming.

“oh! uhh no it’s fine, thank you though,” he smiled.

“soo..i assume that you’re here to talk about the scandal? i’m so sorry that you got into it with me,” y/n frowned. “i always hate when i just talk with someone and it means that i’m dating them.”

heeseung noticed the way y/n’s eyes looked down, almost like she was sick of her life.

“hey, no it’s okay. trust me, i would hate that too and you’re truly so strong for putting up with all that,” heeseung reassured. “but i wanted to actually..propose something.”

y/n’s eyes widened, curious about what heeseung had to offer.

“i’m listening,”

“okay, so i was thinking we would maybe…fake date? like, just until the paparazzi get off our backs and then we can break it off,” heeseung says, searching y/n’s face for any reaction. “it would benefit you and me from the scandals and articles and just…i don’t know. i just think it’s better than leaving this as a rumor.” heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“i get it…they might go crazy when it’s first announced and then they’ll move onto the next piece of drama..” y/n mumbled, fidgeting her hands. “let’s do it. plus, it might be fun to see each other’s lives!” y/n chirped, smiling at the thought of experiencing heeseung’s life.

“deal! it will end when the netizens move on from us,”

“yup!” y/n agreed, shaking heeseung’s hand. “but i think we should also establish some ground rules.”

the first day was all planned out. y/n and heeseung had both decided that they would rather make a statement about them dating than have a netizen figure it out.

y/n agreed to talk to her company, confirming the rumor with heeseung.

heeseung didn’t really have to do anything since a lot of f1 racers were free to date whoever they wanted.

once y/n was done with her meeting—which went surprisingly well and the company agreed to make a public statement about it—y/n went to go meet up with heeseung.

“hey? how’d it go?” heeseung asked, subconsciously twirling the straw of his coffee between his fingers.

“it went well actually. they weren’t that surprised and said they would make a statement later this evening. but, now we need to make it believable,” y/n said, thinking back to the ground rules they established.

“there’s no need for any pda when we aren’t in public, this is just for show so keep it casual. when we’re in public though, we have to make it believable so do anything to fool the media,” heeseung read off the paper. y/n just nodded, agreeing to all the rules.

“no catching feelings,” y/n added, just to be sure. but deep down, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted that.

“yeah, we can start by just holding hands and being more comfortable with each other?” heeseung suggested, trying not to make it sound awkward.

“mhm, that sounds good,” y/n mumbled, her mind somewhere else.

LEE HEESEUNG AND Y/L/N Y/N ARE CONFIRMED TO BE DATING

the articles started rolling in just 5 minutes after y/n’s company put out a statement.

y/n was nervously scrolling through the comments, reading the reactions to her and heeseung.

most were positive but there was wuite a few negative comments.

“hey, don’t worry about them, they’re just jealous that we’re such a power couple,” heeseung laughs, trying to cheer y/n up.

“yeah..you’re right. i just…can’t help it sometimes, y’know? i want to make my fans happy and i don’t want to feel like i let them down. so i often check their reactions to things i do..” y/n says, looking down at her lap. “it’s just become a habit now..”

heeseung would be stupid if he didn’t notice the way y/n’s mood dropped.

“no no no, it’s okay. we’re gonna get through this together and it will all blow over in a couple of weeks. besides, you might even have some fun getting to be a bit more free around me,” heeseung winks, causing y/n to giggle and look away.

the first time heeseung and y/n went out together now that they were a “couple”, fans spotted them immediately, taking photos, videos, only to post it on social media to get more clout.

heeseung made sure to secure y/n by wrapping an arm around her waist, tapping it occasionally to let her know that he’s there for her. like a real boyfriend would do.

heeseung was just a couple years older than y/n but he felt the need to protect her. truth be told, he enjoyed spending time with her, getting to see what she was truly like behind the scenes.

he hadn’t really been going to practice, opting to spend time with y/n and getting to know her better.

y/n still had her modeling duties to do, but she still made time to hang out with heeseung and she often brought him along to her shoots. his soft touches and little gestures made her stomach flutter.

by the end of the week, the whole media was convinced that y/n and heeseung were the “it” couple of the year.

they were so different yet they clicked so well. all of y/n’s staff were convinced, heeseung’s teammates, and the whole world basically.

but the downside to this all was that y/n had actually started to catch feelings for heeseung. she adored the way he laughed at her non-funny jokes like they were the funniest things ever, the way he looked at her with such adoration in his eyes, and his company.

his company made y/n so happy and she felt so..understood.

heeseung understood y/n’s situation and even though he was never in that type of spotlight, he felt empathy for the girl.

he was caring and let her rant about all her built up issues from her career, always paying attention to her.

that’s what y/n’s problem with heeseung was. he cared about her like no one else did. he made her fall for him, even though she wasn’t supposed to.

heeseung was dealing with something quite similar.

he was slowly falling in love with y/n. actually, scratch that. he was in love with y/n.

she always managed to light up the room with her presence and make heeseung smile.

her laugh was contagious and she was so sweet and bubbly. it was such a refreshing experience for heeseung as non of his teammates were ever like this.

y/n brought out a whole new side of him that he didn’t even know existed. he found himself becoming more caring around her and he was less reckless around her.

but he was so sure that y/n didn’t feel the same. after all, she was the one who made the rule not to fall in love with each other.

little did they both know, they were both falling in love with each other, thinking it was never gonna be reciprocated.

the second week passed by like no time at all. y/n had her photoshoots to go to and some local fashion events here in korea while heeseung busied himself with practice in hopes that his feelings would die down if he distracted himself with the upcoming big race he had.

y/n was also distancing herself a bit from heeseung. she was scared that her heart would be left broken once the fake dating ended.

she had fallen for lee heeseung.

the one thing she told herself not to do.

heeseung of course noticed her sudden distance and became worried for her.

“princess?” —a new nickname he had started calling y/n which made her stomach turn. “are you okay? i haven’t heard much from you and i got worried,” heeseung said, taking off his shoes as he entered y/n’s apartment.

“heeseung…i-i…i dont think i can do this anymore!” she blurted, her negative thoughts getting the best of her.

she watched as heeseung’s face fell, a darker look on his face now.

“what? what do you mean? what do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” he asked, anger laced in his voice.

“i’m sorry hee, i just…i can’t do this anymore! pretending we’re dating when we’re not! it’s just..not working for me..” y/n mumbled, to ashamed to look heeseung in the eye.

she was scared that if she told him the truth, he would get even angrier at her for breaking the rule she made.

“fine! be like that then! don’t tell me why you suddenly want to break this off! that’s fine with me, but don’t come crying back to me when everything falls apart for you!” heeseung seethes, slipping his shoes back on and slamming the door on his way out.

the second the door closed, y/n broke down. she fell to the floor, tears rapidly streaming down her face.

what had she done?

heeseung was beyond mad. but he couldn’t deny that his heart felt a little broken too.

he fell for y/n in these past couple weeks only to have it broken off with no explanation.

his big race was in a few days and he really wanted y/n to be there for him, but now, he didn’t even want to think about her.

the next few days were torture for the two of them. y/n had tried to distract herself with photo shoots, but how could she when heeseung’s big race was all her staff were talking about?

heeseung was similar to y/n. he was practicing for hours and hours, trying to forget y/n, but it was hard when he kept seeing her face on billboards and magazines.

they both didn’t want to admit that they fell for each other.

the day of the race, heeseung was warming up for the biggest race of his career. but he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart just by thinking that he wouldn’t have y/n there to cheer him on.

but he couldn’t get distracted now, he had a race to win for fucks sake.

y/n had to practically beg for the day off to her manager. she intended to make things right with lee heeseung.

so, in a baseball cap and a mask, she made her way to the stadium.

to be honest, y/n had no idea what she was doing here. it was clear that heeseung wanted nothing to do with her anymore yet she still needed to see him.

the public didn’t know that they had “broken up” yet so in their eyes, they were still the perfect couple.

after a couple days of moping around, debating whether or not she should tell heeseung how she actually felt about him, she decided that it was only fair that he knew the truth.

once she got to her seat, she really felt the energy in the stadium.

fans were screaming and cheering for all their favorite racers, but she was only here for one.

heeseung’s race was supposed to be the main event of the show tonight as he was going for a world record.

throughout the course of time y/n had spent with heeseung, she did in fact, learn a thing or two about racing, so she wasn’t completely stupid.

as the lights dimmed down and the cheers got louder, y/n could feel her heart quicken. she took off the hat and her mask as it got way too stuffy in the stadium.

from afar, she could see the figure of lee heeseung walking to his race car, his helmet in his hands as he waved to the crowd.

he looked so natural and free in his usual setting and it was like y/n got to experience a whole new side of him.

but then, he turned around, facing y/n’s direction, only to catch her gaze on him. his expression turned into an unreadable one before turning back around and slipping into his car.

once he was in his car, his opponents also got in their cars, now revving up the engines, ready to take off.

y/n nervously looked around at the opponents and then the countdown.

a girl in a skimpy outfit walked into the middle of the cars, a flag in her hands.

3..2…1! GO!

she blew the whistle and raised the flag, making sure to pose for the crowd before walking off once the cars had passed her.

the moment the cars took off, y/n stopped breathing. she watched as heeseung flew across the track, his speed intensifying more and more.

he was a whole lap in front of everyone else, which was a good thing…until it wasn’t.

“oh my god, he’s going too fast!” another person who was sitting next to y/n screamed. y/n’s gaze caught heeseung’s car and the person next to her was right. he was going too fast. he was gonna crash.

heeseung’s car was practically a blur of red, black and white as his car zoomed through the course.

but he never slowed down.

he only sped up.

y/n felt her heart drop as heeseung only moved faster. he was on the final lap, but it didn’t matter. he was going to win anyways but what mattered was his speed.

yes he was going for a world record but this was unsafe. he was going way too fast and he knew it.

heeseung sat in his car, hands tightly around the wheel. before he stepped into his car, he saw y/n.

what was she doing here? the days he spent after the argument with y/n were filled with regret. he should’ve never blew up at her like that.

he should’ve listened to her and her reasoning. he felt so awful. he was so sure she hated him.

so why was she in the stands, watching him? he sped faster, dying to finish the race. dying to tell y/n how fucking sorry he was. he was such an idiot for letting her go so easily. dying to tell her that he loved her.

as he crossed the finish line, he itched to get out of his car. he impatiently waited for all the other cars to come to a stop so it would be safe for him to run out.

something in y/n’s body told her to go. go to him and tell him how much she fell for him.

so that’s what she did. she got up from her seat, rushing down to the gate.

heeseung had the same intent because as soon as it was clear to get out, he threw open the door and rushed out.

his helmet discarded on the floor, not giving a single car for the world except for y/n.

there, he saw her waiting by the gates and he ran harder.

“y/n?? what are you doing here??” he breathed, his voice shaky from the adrenaline.

“i came to see you. i can to tell you how sorry i was and how much of a fool i wa-” she was cut off with heeseung’s lips pressing against hers.

their lips fit together like puzzle pieces and it felt so right. y/n quickly melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around heeseung’s neck.

pulling away, the two of them were breathless.

“i’m the one who should be sorry. i said some things that i shouldn’t have said and i hurt you,” heeseung’s tone was soft yet apologetic. tears sprang to y/n’s eyes as she smiled at heeseung.

“i think…i-i fell in love with you lee heeseung. that’s why i ended this. i was so scared that i would continue falling for you and eventually when it would end, i would be even more heartbroken. i didn’t want to end it but i felt like i had to,” y/n cried into heeseung’s shoulder.

heeseung sighed and wrapped his arms around y/n’s shorter frame.

“princess, i loved you too. i loved you the moment we met in milano,” he chuckled softly, kissing y/n’s head. “i’m so fucking in love with you it hurts.” he laughed.

“i guess that makes two,” y/n smiled, pulling away to look at heeseung’s face.

they both leaned in, connecting their lips one more time.

“i knew you’d win,” y/n whispered against heeseung’s lips.

“yeah?” he smirked, a cocky expression on his face.

the two stayed in each other’s arms for a bit longer, forgetting about the world outside.

“so are we dating for real now?” y/n asked.

“for real.” heeseung smiled, kissing her forehead one more time.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

taglist: @blvengene, @punchbug9-blog, @hoshieee, @jxp1-t3r, @mrsjohnnysuh, @hommyy-tommy

[doujindungeon]

summary: insecurities about your relationship with toto come bursting forth during your date night out together. as a storm rages across the city, he is only determined to weather through this anguish with you. rating: nc-17 pairing: f!reader/toto content warnings: established relationship, smut, facesitting, oral sex (reader receiving, toto giving), angst/drama word count: 2k previous one-shot - carlos s. | next one-shot - lewis h.

Your eyes were cast straight ahead, your vision blurred by London’s downpour.

The weather was especially merciless on this night, harsh winds having ripped your umbrella–a flimsy little thing–out from your hands while you trudged aimlessly through the streets, leaving you prone to the deluge from the weeping clouds above.

And while you could have found refuge at the likes of a homely corner shop or something of the sort, you were much too wrapped up in your emotions to think of anything else save for the argument you had with your lover after what was meant to be a fanciful date night out at one of the high class restaurants in Kensington for a private dinner.

A welcome break from his busy schedule as team principal.

Your phone silent, your direction aimless, your dress drenched, you simply were in no mood to do anything else yet lumber onwards in your misery, rainwater seeping into your stockings and heels with every step.

Even bearing the clothes you wore added to your current anguish, as each piece was a gift from him.

Your current outfit, the restaurant you were taken to, even your lover himself–did you deserve any of it?

Compared to him, you were no one of outstanding significance. You were but a mere flight attendant who had to step in for your superior to cover first class after she fell ill.

For you, it was merely adhering to your duties. For him, it was infatuation at first sight.

Before the plane even began its descent for landing, you were already whisked into the romance he so desperately wanted to share with you.

And what a love it had been thus far. He had taken you across the world, insisting that you would be the one treated and cared for, gifting you luxuries you never thought attainable. 

You were thankful surely, but above all, you were most touched by the love and devotion he bestowed to you within the sacred privacy of your time alone together, away from the snooping eyes of the media and public.

Yet as your relationship continued, with you soaring further and further into the realm of opulence, you began to feel as though your humble upbringing and background were setting you up to come crashing straight down. Each luxurious present felt more like a burdensome taunt that you could never earn such high-end goods on your own, that you weren’t worthy of even casting your eyes on them.

Even while you were mindful to keep your relationship private, the times you would join him at races, parties, and the sort would result in a media frenzy about your relationship, how he blessed you with a true rags-to-riches Cinderella tale.

In his field, in his industry, in his team, he commanded and carried himself like that of an emperor with the power, wealth, and authority to show.

How foolish for you to ever truly believe that you ever had a place within his empire.

His initial inquiry about why you appeared so sullen during dinner led to an exchange between your trembling revelations and his painfully pragmatic approach to your woes. Ignoring the nonsense of the media was easier for someone who could gaze down at the world below from his lofty throne up above, whereas you were a commoner who was better off lingering around the streets.

And so you did.

Ignoring his flustered calls of your name to seek out the roar of London’s cascading rain for comfort instead.

Your wandering continued even as your body endured through the frigid chill that was wracking through your body. It was a miracle that you had yet to slip or stumble on the slick pavement, even as your heels and stockings were absolutely soaked.

But that changed when you heard the low, firm timbre of an achingly familiar voice call out your name.

The spin of your heel upon turning around on the wet pavement had you tumbling forward but you were spared from any impact as a pair of two strong arms immediately pulled you right against the solid surface of a broad chest.

Though reluctant, your eyes slowly cast their gaze upwards.

Chiseled features that befitted a god, once meticulously-styled raven black hair now drenched, weary stare relieved from its usual stern focus in favor of sheer and utter relief. 

Toto.

He was looking for you.

Your heart fluttered.

All because you left him while in distress.

Your heart twisted.

Before you could say anything, he immediately let out a curt, “You are going to get sick.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he released his hold on you to instead reach for the front of his Ferragamo wool coat before slipping it right off to drape it around your shoulders, his white dress shirt now subject to the pouring rain.

Any protests you had were met by him simply hugging you close against him while he called for a taxi to bring you back to the hotel you both were staying at for the weekend.

The ride was quiet, save for the jazzy oldies that your driver was playing from the radio and the soft thrum of the car’s heater. While Toto didn’t say anything–whether to admonish or to inquire–, from when he ushered you into the backseat up to when the two of you were dropped off at the hotel’s porte cochère, he never let go of you once.

Even as the two of you made your way towards his penthouse suite, he kept you close by, his arm locked around your waist. A fear that you would slip away again, a demonstration of his protective instinct, a display of affection–regardless of the significance, his hold on you was firm.

It was only when you both arrived at the front door that you were finally released as he took a step ahead while reaching for his wallet to draw out his room key.

The loss of warmth from his arm retracting away from your waist did not go unnoticed by you.

Your eyes were cast forward, taking in the grand and broad outline of his magnificent physique, accented further by his rain soddened clothes clinging to his skin.

A quick tap of the card and a pull at the handle got the door open, your lover sending a glance your way as he gestured for you to enter.

“After you.”

You nodded towards him, a quiet “thank you” emitted for your lips as you stepped on ahead, quickly being greeted by the glorious burst of warmth from the suite’s heating system. Before you moved any further, you stopped to instead bend over and finally slip out of your shoes–

“Stay still.”

The door to your suite closed right as you turned your head back in surprise, only to watch as Toto strode over to stand directly in front of you–just a couple steps needed for a man of his tall and imposing stature.

As your expression turned curious, he clarified with the gentle murmur of, “Leave this to me, schatzi.”

His hands reached forwards to gingerly help slip his coat off of your shoulders.

Only to drop the Ferragamo wool unceremoniously to the floor, your dress following suit, with his knees trailing last as he crouched before you.

Your eyes were cast down, watching his thick fingers seek out and undo the thin straps of your heels.

It shouldn’t have so much meaning yet to witness a man so powerful and rich lower himself before you just to spare you the hassle of such tedious actions–there were more flutters than twists in your heart from this single observation alone.

Continuing to offer you assistance, one of his big hands reached for your stocking-clad calf as a means to steady you while the other grasped at your heel to help slip it off. Once you were out of both of shoes, it was then that you felt the weight of his palms press against the sides of your thighs, his thumbs running along the thin fabric that covered them just as his gaze flickered back up to your face.

“I can’t have you getting sick,” was the simple reason he hummed out as his fingers slipped right up to the waistband of your stockings before he proceeded to gently peel them down.

Just the mere brush of his warm fingertips along your waist had you gasp softly. While by this point, his coat and the heated car ride over did help with keeping the chills away, nothing felt as pleasantly hot as his touch.

Your stockings joined the heap of high-end apparel behind you, leaving you clad in only your bra and panties.

While not a new sight for Toto, his eyes roamed over your body as though it was, taking in every detail, every curve, every bit of you with a focused stare.

An anticipatory breath was held in your throat as you awaited for him to continue and strip you down completely.

Instead however, he merely shifted forward and left a kiss onto the front of your panties, the heat of his lips and his breath eliciting a delighted shiver from your body.

He continued this a few more times, each contact made slow and indulgent.

After one more kiss, he drew back to remark out loud, his voice a low rumble,

“You’re especially cold here, schatzi.”

His eyes met yours again.

Your anticipation was exhaled with a breathless murmur,

“What should I do about it, Toto?”

His response was him proceeding to lie down on his back, a small yet genuine smile forming on his lips as he beckoned you over with the curl of his index finger.

“Come sit here. As I said–please leave this to me.

He had lowered himself further for you yet again without a moment’s hesitation, having yet to even strip himself out of his damp clothes.

How could you resist him further?

Your bra and panties were tossed back to the floor right as you proceeded to lower your hips down onto Toto’s awaiting face.

Immediately, his hands locked onto your thighs as he planted his mouth right over your cunt, the molten heat of his tongue lapping against your entrance. His licks alternated between his lips circling over your clit for earnest suckles and slurps, drawing more moans to spill freely out of you.

Earlier, you withstood through the storm that swept over London, your body frigid from the cold rain, your heart wounded with sorrow.

But now, you were subject to Toto’s relentless adoration, your skin left aflame by the scorching heat of his mouth, his fingers wandering along your waist for tender caresses, his palms kneading your breasts and groping your ass.

You felt good.

Damn good.

And he didn’t even need to crack open his wallet to do so, just dote on you with his very own touch.

Your hips ground down against his mouth with need, your back arched with euphoric bliss, your voice elevated more and more with pleasure until you were left crying out breathlessly with the peak of your orgasm.

A clap of thunder rang across the city outside, signaling that the storm still had yet to relent as the rain intensified.

Yet within the sanctuary of your hotel suite, within the entry hallway, there was peace.

You felt wobbly when you finally dismounted off of your lover’s face.

In mere seconds however, you were quickly drawn back against him as his arms ensnared around your body for a tight embrace, his body heat enveloping you fully despite his wet clothes.

Toto’s hand found its way to your cheek, cupping it with gentle care as he peered right into your eyes, your name uttered from his lips with reverence.

“Above anything else, you are what’s most precious to me. My world, my life–I am only complete with you around, and I will make sure that you will never forget this, schatzi.”

Your eyes were cast directly into his, marveling at the pure and absolute love for you reflected within his dark brown irises.

In return, you smiled while happy tears welled within your gaze as you took his face into your hands, happily bridging the gap between you both with a kiss.

Here, in his arms, you belonged.

-----------------------

tfw i was just expecting for this one-shot to be like, about the same length as the first fics of this series but NOOOO the pumpernickel team principal wanted to pump up the word count and slather on some angst while i was going over my rough draft 🤨🤨

either way!!! i'm pleased with how this and the other pieces have turned out thus far 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️

thank you all again for taking the time to read!!! hope to see you tomorrow as we kick off the weekend with SIR hamilton 🫡🧎‍♀️

[shamrockqueen]

Omega retreat Chapter 14

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Reader

Warnings : R18, Fluff, Angst, sad moments

Word count : 2382

First chapter : Previous Chapter

Bucky Masterlist

Summary : As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

Your skin hummed with a pleasant warmth. A sign of comfort and satisfaction from a happy omega. He held you, breathing in that same tranquility as he rested his lips over the soft skin of your shoulder. You were his safest haven, something to chase away worry and burdening thoughts.

Sadly, your presence was still attached to a lingering sin. A chain following behind you without your knowledge. He found it better to ignore such a presence, soaking in your delightful scent as a small sliver of something terrible burrowed further into the bottom of his belly.

He knew what he had done and continued to do to you, with his omission of a truth you never guessed existed. It burned deep below the hard, chiseled surface of his outer shell that threatened to crack under your delicate and loving touch.

He needed more of you. All of you, in fact, to best quell that small reminder of his evil deed against you. If only you knew. Yet, you leaned into that need for comfort to better satisfy your own.

While awake, the two of you finally began to open to one another. You were lucid, curious about the man that saw this piece of you that you’d hidden for so long from Alpha eyes. There was so much more of each of you left to show one another.

“Can I ask you something?” There was so much dancing on the tip of your tongue waiting to leap into the air between the two of you.

Bucky felt rigid, spine straightening at the proposition, and immediately responded with, “Of course, doll.”

“What made you decide to go on the website?” You were certain it was something the two of you questioned but maybe never voiced to one another.

His posture softened, arm lightly tightening around your shoulder before speaking. “I wasn’t really having much luck with dating. Everything kept falling flat on its back.”

His voice was low, comfortable but edged with just a small amount of a genuine ache. “It was just..frustrating.”

“I guess, one day I just saw an ad for it one day and ran with it.”

“It’s a beautiful location.” You mused back, eliciting a small smile from the alpha closely held beside you.

This was only the start; so far, you both walked while still so blind. You each sat at the center of each other’s vision, leaving the foreground as a blur of color, leaving behind very important details to feed something inside one another that had been left to starve. It was selfish, and with the fulfillment of these selfish needs, could you both truly see?

“It’s crazy to think I dove right in without actually asking you any actual questions.” You laughed, lying closely beside him as he nuzzled into your shoulder. Finally, that truth could come to life.

In truth, your impending heat had you preoccupied, blinded even to your partner’s life beyond a necessary physical connection. Now you were kicking yourself, batting that needy omega away to steal some time for yourself and Bucky to speak.

“I will say, we seemed to bulldoze over basic pleasantries. But, I was sure we both had our reasons.” It was a fleeting thought, knowing he was just as much at fault for jumping to this flight of fancy.

“Right.” You said with another weak laugh, wanting to find amusement with your naivety before continuing.

“You said before you worked with a friend at some tech company.”

He stiffened again, only slightly, before letting himself settle back onto his side and answered. “Yeah, it’s just a small Stark affiliate, but it’s cool working closely with national defense.”

“National defense?” Your ears perked at the brief utterance of something seemingly so important, even when spoken with a Laissez-faire tilt to his tone.

“Like homeland secretary, CIA. That kind of stuff.” He continued.

“What’s it like?” Your voice was light, peaked, and pert like a curious pixie.

He paused, trying to find a word that best suited the feeling he associated with work. “Different. Definitely different.”

“Different how?” You asked, tilting your head towards his shoulder with the lilt of your voice.

“It’s not much like when I was in the army. A lot more paperwork and meetings than anything on the front lines.” He mused.

“You were in the army?”

He coughed a short chuckle, surprised and very amused. More so with his own carelessness for not properly introducing himself and continuing to be this romantic fantasy you seemed so fond of. It was fun, but laughably naive.

“We really did skip past a lot of stuff, didn’t we?”

You try to laugh with him, giving a weak smile as you muster up a simple, “Sorry.”

He can tell he’s made you feel disarmed, and with a swift switch of pace, he tries to reassure you. “You are not the one that should be sorry. It’s my life; I should have been forthcoming.”

The irony was bitter on his tongue, twisted terribly with his sweet words.

“I can’t say I haven’t been just as impulsive.”

Your smile in response was soft, nearly upturned with guilt. You chose to continue, wanting to know more of what you should have known from the beginning. “How long were you in the army?”

His voice was a huff, nearly a laugh, as his eyes left your face to watch unseen memories in the dancing daylight along the wood beams on the ceiling. Each moment played out for him like a short comedy only to devolve as his smile slowly fell to what can be perceived to be a tragic ending to its story.

Now he could leave those memories and be back in this moment with you. Your warm skin reminded him where he was once again, and he finally shared a shred of that story with you, waiting to hear it.

“I was active for two years. I was deployed for a short time before being discharged. After that I did some freelance work before some old friends decided to start this company, and I joined in.”

“What made you decide to leave after only two years?”

“I was wounded while on deployment. You can’t really see it now, but the muscles of my arm and shoulder were badly damaged, and I needed a lengthy recovery.”

Your eyes frantically searched his skin as your own body became rigid.

“Your arm?” You asked, trying in vain to find any scar you so carelessly missed while delving into your own fantasies.

He chuckled a little, humoring you by lifting his left arm with now oddly fluid motion. There were, in fact, a few thin white lines, slightly raised but nearly invisible, before leading to a larger patch of pale skin hidden under the crook of his arm as it met his shoulder before it fanned back into these thin lines of healed flesh.

You feel terribly dense to ignore the parts of him that made him who he was and not just a figment of your fantastical imagination.

Finally, Bucky was becoming a real person. Someone with history and landmarks, like an old map of neighboring kingdoms, is sitting untraversed beside you. You see the lines of old wounds, the faint wrinkle at the edge of his eyes, and the tired way he seemed to smile as it crinkled his five o’clock shadow of a blossoming beard.

He liked this new look in your eyes as you took him in like a fine and unending painting, and he continued his tale of war and peace.

“It took a lot of physical therapy to get everything back to how it was. I'm just glad I got to keep my arm; damn happy I got to keep my life.”

“It’s so seamless; I—I’m so sorry I hadn’t even noticed.” You stuttered.

“Thanks! The doctor who did it was amazing; he even did the whole thing pro bono.”

“Really?!” Now your eyes were wide with intrigue.

“He did it for everyone in our unit when the army refused to foot the bill.”

“He’s a bit strange, but when you get to know him, he's a good guy.”

He was glad to be so close to his old self after the incident, but even if you hadn’t noticed them, he always saw his scars. No matter how small, he knew they were always there, feeling the small jolts of lasting pain from their accompanying neuropathy after all the damage that had to be righted. With that came all the truly unseen emotional and mental scarring he kept from everyone.

You were speechless, only mouthing the word “wow” as he smiled at your awe.

He grabs at your hand to hold it, turning to speak to you instead of the open air. “I feel I’ve come a long way since then, so I hope you don’t look at me any differently…”

“No! Of course not. It’s amazing that you’ve been able to do so much after what you’ve been through.” You cut through his sentiments before they could become any more grim.

“It really makes my little office job seem so cushy and safe in comparison.” You laughed lightly into his chest as he chuckled with you.

“I’m glad I finally got to meet you, omega.” His voice rumbled along the skin of your cheek as he spread his wide hand over your belly. You can’t help the smile that breaks out over your face before saying back “I’m really glad I got to meet you too.”

Bucky could admit to himself that he did his homework about you. LinkedIn profiles and Facebook.

Nothing too drastic. But he is genuinely taken aback that you hadn’t done very much homework, and it warmed his heart to know he’d held so much of your trust. But, that warmth curdled his stomach because he secretly misused that trust, and you were still oblivious.

“It still surprises me that someone without much experience was so eager to meet me so soon. Felt a little funny to get butterflies in my stomach after all these years.” His smile was soft and genuine as he spoke.

“I was very nervous, and you were so patient.” You could feel an unnervingly cold feeling in your belly where your heart should have been as you spoke.

There was a very good reason that you couldn’t afford to wait. Another heat spent alone could have been fatal, putting a great amount of pressure on your shoulders to find a partner.

“I’m actually very thankful to have you be my first Alpha, let alone seeing me through my heat.”

This wasn’t a great time to unload all of this, but would there ever be a perfect moment to unfold and bare the worst part of yourself to someone?

“Damn honor, actually. I’m still amazed some other meathead didn’t try to snap you up already.” You laughed together again, but even as he coaxed amusement out of your somber mood, you wanted to remain serious.

“I never felt ready to give myself to someone like that, not while I’m that weak.” Your one gaze shifted, seeing a similar pantomime calling back to your own past.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that Alphas can be mean. Some of them can give the rest of us a bad reputation.” He wanted to reassure you that he could understand the fear behind your decision, but this moment was far more than the little omega behind afraid of the big bad Alpha.

“It’s bigger than that. This is the first time I didn’t have to spend this week in so much pain.” You spoke, voice quiet so as to not hear yourself speak. Bucky did hear, and his jaw seemed to tighten as your own full picture came into view before him.

“I would get so sick. Last time I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even call for help, and…” Your voice caught at the back of your throat as you tried to get each word out. He saw the tears as they brimmed in your eyes, and on instinct he seemed to hold you tighter as you continued.

“…And when they found me, I had to get sent to the hospital…” Your stomach twisted from the recollection. You were so scared, your pleas for help only echoing in your head as the world spun out of focus and turned into an empty black.

“It’s not supposed to be like that when you're young, and it felt like my own body was against me.” You pressed your face into his chest as the tears spilled out onto his warm skin.

“Hey. Hey.” He softly shook your shoulder, not wanting you to hide your emotions from him like a scared rabbit burrowing to perceived safety. It seemed like everything about Bucky shifted. His muscles tensed,

his eyes wider, and even his scent seemed to sharpen with a citrus sting.

“Oh god. I didn’t want to ruin the mood like this.” You sniffed as he rolled you on your back. “I—I was just so scared after leaving inpatient...and...and I saw that flier…” Your lungs couldn’t fill with air fast enough for you to breathe it back out. Each huff puffing out choppier than the next as your face became wet with fallen tears.

“I needed help so badly.”

You curl into the blankets, feeling that same sick feeling in your belly that had haunted you during previous heat cycles.

“It’s just, sometimes you want things to be your choice, but life finds a way to choose for you.”

His own eyes felt glossed with that same sad dew daring to drip around his cheek and disappear into the scruff of his facial hair. That tear was blinked away in dismissal. His arms seem to tighten around you, and it felt nice to know someone didn’t want you to be sad.

You leaned into the embrace and spoke softly into Bucky’s shoulder.

“But, I’m happy that I’m here.”

“I’m glad you chose me.” He says as he pets your hair again. His voice was low, but you still assumed he was speaking more to you than to himself.

“Me too,” you said back softly as he leaned in towards you to steal a kiss.

Chapter 15

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[taojjang]

𐙚 riize reactions: i want to marry you .ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day twenty-two! pairing: fiance!riize x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: pure love <3

synopsis: there's no better time to confess your never-ending love for someone than the holidays!

note: we're on the final four! ty guys sm for enjoying the advent calendar series i appreciate it so so so much :( i hope you guys are looking forward to the holidays coming up!! this one is kinda longgg i was feeling a bit too romantic so i hope you have the time and patience for this

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shotaro . . .

since the beginning of november, shotaro had planned a romantic getaway for the holidays. he booked the resort the second you agreed to his idea. from then until the day he drove you to the resort, he wouldn't stop talking about how excited he was. on christmas night, you finally realized why he was so excited.

taro knew you wanted to try ice skating. every time you'd open instagram, you'd watch reels about cute winter date ideas, and somehow ice skating was always a suggestion. you've been bugging taro to take you ice skating. the two of you got ready together in your fancy hotel room, taro letting you pick out your matching outfits. after you got all dolled up for the date, you were on your way to the skii resort.

taro held your hand as you entered the skii lift, reassuring you everything would be fun. but you were terrified. the lift seemed to be going way faster than you anticipated, causing your anxiety to palpitate in your chest. but once you entered the skii lift, your every thought was clouded by the breathtaking view ahead of you. but within seconds of reaching the mountain peak, you felt a tap on your shoulder. as you turned to face your boyfriend, your gaze was stolen by a glistening ring in taro's hand. your heart grew lighter as you looked down into taro's doting eyes.

"you've made every day of my life feel like a dream. would you let me live in your fairytale for the rest of our lives?"

the two of you held hands and explored the snowy mountain together, not being able to stop giggling as the idea of being with each other for the rest of your lives sank in.

eunseok . . .

eunseok is truly the most nurturing boyfriend you could ask for. no matter how busy or tired he is, he'd drop anything and come running to you the second you call his name. but with such a caring boyfriend comes so much nagging. eunseok is always complaining about how you spend too much money ordering food when he could just cook for you, or how you need to prioritize paying bills before buying new clothes. so of course it shocked you when he suddenly told you he was taking you to a tropical resort for christmas.

but of course, you couldn't complain. you were already envisioning so many cute things to do with eunseok on the vacation. you were a bit too excited, packing your things the same night although you had two more weeks until your flight. but it was all worth it. the resort he booked was absolutely stunning. you had your own little house on the beach and you bedroom had a window view of the deep turquoise waves.

the next few days, eunseok would take you on fancy tours of the island and luxurious dinner dates every night. you felt a bit emotional when things were coming to an end. the amount of beautiful memories you made with eunseok this week was all starting to overwhelm you. you felt like your love for him was at its capacity. seeing how sentimental you were, eunseok decided to lift your spirits by taking you on the final activity he had booked: a romantic ride on a yacht. it was absolutely lovely sitting beside eunseok with a glass of champagne in your hand. the wind breezed through your hair, refreshing every lingering thought in your mind. as you soaked in the tropical sun, eunseok called from behind you. "i think you'll like this view more." your heart stilled in your chest as you turned to eunseok, who was on one knee with the most stunning diamond ring you've ever seen

"you're the only person i'd wish to share the rest of my memories with. darling, will you marry me?"

sungchan . . .

every date with sungchan is typically organized by you. sungchan is quite clumsy and unorganized, so whenever he plans something it usually goes wrong. though you don't mind it and enjoy the thrill of how unpredictable his dates are, he's too insecure to plan dates. after all, sungchan wants the best for you.

but he knew you couldn't plan his proposal. he wanted it to be a complete surprise, which he succeeded in. you were shocked by how beautiful the house looked when you got home from spending time with your family for christmas. there was a romantic trail of rose petals leading you from the entrance to the dinner table, which was prettily decorated with fancy candles and flowers. though sungchan was such a klutz, you were proud of him for how luxurious he made the house.

everything was going as planned: he cooked up his best dish and it turned out delicious having you get up for seconds. you even complimented how well he planned out this date. to finish off the night, sungchan poured you a glass of pink champagne and served two slices of your favorite cake. the two of you were eating cake by the fireplace and sharing affectionate words with one another until suddenly, sungchan winced in pain and he covered his mouth with his hand. concerned and panicked, you put down your plate and leaned closer asking him what was wrong. you were surprised to see sungchan pull out a small object from his mouth. it was a diamond ring. you could see the embarrassment rise to his face as he looked down at the ring. "well, that wasn't supposed to be there..." as you realized what had just happened, you bursted out into laughter and took sungchan into your arms. "oh my gosh, sungchan, you're the cutest!" sungchan whined and threw his head into his hands crying, "it was going so well!" you smiled and left a doting kiss on sungchan's lips. "it's alright baby, now's your chance." sungchan sat up and cleared his throat, taking your hands into his and looking into your eyes.

"i know that was so stupid of me, but i promise to take you on countless more dates even better than this one. would you be my wife?"

wonbin . . .

wonbin loves home dates. whenever wonbin is in the mood to take you on a date, the destination is almost always his living room. something about the intimacy of being alone in such a comfortable space makes him so much sweeter than usual. but the christmas spirit makes wonbin even sweeter.

the two of you have a holiday tradition of going on a date to the annual christmas light festival at the nearby park. after walking around and taking cute pictures of every display, you would both find a seat in front of the frozen lake and share one early christmas gift.

but this year, wonbin forgot all about your gift. you stood in front of him with a blue gift bag in your hands, staring at him in disbelief as he stood empty-handed. you were furious. you'd been keeping up this tradition for five years, how could he forget? wonbin had even been bragging endlessly about how amazing your gift is, yet he conveniently forgot to bring it with him. you sat down on the bench and crossed your arms, not daring to look at him. all you could do was sulk as he cooed apologies. but your tough demeanor was soon cracked when wonbin sang, "listen baby, i can make it up to you, hm? look at me." finally giving in and turning to face him, your heart dropped to your stomach. wonbin got on one knee ahead of you, pulling out a small black velvet case from his pocket.

"you're the best gift i could ever receive. i'd never trade you for anything else in the world. will you marry me?"

seunghan . . .

seunghan spoils you rotten all throughout the year. you're having a hard day? dinner date! you just got a promotion? shopping spree! you gave him a few extra kisses that morning? flowers at your doorstep! after all, you're his entire world. what better way to show you that than giving you everything you could possibly ask for?

christmas is your favorite time of the year. you love going on all of the winter dates seunghan plans and enjoying the christmas spirit with him. but it gets a bit stressful sometimes. every day, there's at least two more gifts under the christmas tree despite not asking for a single thing this year. since seunghan spends so much money on you, you told him not to fret about christmas gifts this year and to focus on his family and friends. but its obvious those words didn't stick with him. by the time christmas eve came, more than half of the gifts under the tree were for you. you went to bed that night excited to open all of the gifts he'd gotten for you.

but you woke up to a christmas tree with no gifts beneath it. the tree skirt was bare with no boxes in sight. instead, four bouquets of flowers were sitting where the gifts usually were. confused, you called for seunghan in hopes he could explain what happened. but he never answered. as you investigated further, you noticed a single gift sitting on the branches of the tree. your eyes welled with tears as it revealed a silver ring with a stunning blue diamond. you turned around to see seunghan standing at the doorway with all of your gifts and another bouquet.

"what do you say, angel? would you take my hand in marriage?"

sohee . . .

as much as sohee loves you, it's rare for him to express said love through physical touch. here and there, he'd hold your hand as you walk beside each other or he'd brush your hair behind your ear when you're resting against his shoulder. but typically, he struggles to openly express his affection.

so of course you suspected something was off when he awkwardly held your hand for days straight. since the day before christmas eve, sohee's been so much more cuddly than you're used to. after spending the holidays together for the nth time, he wouldn't leave your side. he was practically clinging onto you from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep in your arms. though you loved every second of it, you began to worry.

to end off christmas day on a cozy note, you put on your coziest sweater and got comfortable in front of the fireplace. not even a few seconds later, sohee hesitantly sat beside you, linking his arm around yours and resting against your shoulder. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and looked down at the clingy boy beside you. resting your hand on his cheek and stroking his soft skin, you asked out of pure concern, "sohee baby, is something wrong? is there something from your christmas list that i missed?" sohee chuckled and shook his head, snuggling closer to you. "what? of course not. i just... have a lot on my mind." even the slightest pout on sohee's face caused you immense discomfort and pain. you couldn't stand hearing he was stressed. "tell me about it, what's upsetting you?" sohee took a few seconds to simply breathe and take in your presence. swallowing back all of his fear, he looked up at you and let everything fall from his lips. "i think... i think i wanna marry you." your heart stood completely still. not a single breath escaped your lips. it was as if your entire world had froze. your love for sohee began overflowing in the form of tears.

"i've never felt so much love for someone as long as i've lived. i want to marry you, y/n."

anton . . .

christmas is always so serious for anton. he does not play when it comes to the holiday festivities. from november 1st all the way through january 31st, your house is full of the prettiest christmas decorations and even gifts. anton buys tons and tons of gifts for you that could last even past christmas. all year round, he takes notes on what items you express a desire for and he brings home all of those gifts on christmas. he just wants nothing but the best for you.

you're far too precious to anton. everything you do makes him feel so overwhelmingly in love with you. no matter how cranky you are, anton will always spoil you with snacks and affection every night. so of course he goes above and beyond for christmas, seizing the opportunity to spoil you rotten.

but you didn't expect there to be this many presents under the tree. you shook your head in both disbelief and astonishment. after eating a fancy breakfast anton had prepared, he urged you to open all of your gifts. you were more than touched to see all of the things you've mentioned to him sitting under the tree. from new clothes to fancy jewelry, anton covered everything you wished for. just when you thought things couldn't get any better, you opened the final box. inside lied a white teddy bear and a pink book sitting beneath it. you wound emotional flipping through the pages and seeing all of the prettiest photos he's taken with you, from the lowest times to the happiest memories you could recall. lying in the center of the last page was a gift you've been waiting for since the moment you met anton. it was a promise ring. looking up at anton with love flowing down your cheeks, you couldn't help but cry out of pure happiness.

"the happiest moments of my life were spent with you, y/n, and i want nothing more than to make even more with you. may i be your husband?"

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