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Destiney
Hoping to connect with readers one fan fiction at a time
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All Dean wants is a little privacy. Cas doesn't understand. It's smut with plot.
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Wei Ying is a 911 dispatcher who happens to take a call from a terrified 4 year old named Lan Yuan. This one phone call might just change the trajectory of his life forever.
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It’s a really unfortunate thing, developing a crush on your husband. Wei Ying had assumed this would be easy. Lan Zhan had been so icy and unpleasant to him, it had never occurred to him that he might end up spending the next however many years with this dumb, burning feeling in his chest whenever he looks at him. “Okay,” says Wei Ying. “But tell me if I…if the pretending gets to be too hard, okay?” “It will not,” says Lan Zhan, quietly certain.
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“Oh, and that time I ran away? From the family that had me before the Jiangs took me in? I got hypothermia.” Wei Ying says all of this with the same easy demeanor that he uses when he tells playground stories about Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, like he’s not discussing trauma. “When you get hypothermia once you’re more susceptible to it in the future, which is a fun side effect.” He shrugs and kisses Lan Zhan’s neck with lips that are still cold but not horribly so. “I just get cold easy now. I’m used to it.” “Mn,” Lan Zhan says, and means, “We’ll fucking see about that.” Or: Wei Ying is not allowed to be cold, therefore Lan Zhan must learn to knit.
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The picture is of Wei Ying, that much is clear. It’s of a lot more of Wei Ying than Lan Zhan is used to seeing. He supposes that, technically, Wei Ying is dressed. It’s a bare technicality, since one of Wei Ying’s hands has rucked up his black tank top practically to his collarbone, showing a long expanse of abdomen and one nipple. Sweat beads on his sternum, catching the light like jewels. His other hand is--Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen, as though unable to look away from a train wreck--on his hip, one thumb tugging down the waistband of a pair of red briefs. Wei Ying is biting his lower lip and looking directly into the camera, sultry, his eyes dark and inviting. His erection is obvious, outlined against the red of the briefs and framed carefully with the hand on his hip. Lan Zhan’s brain goes wildly, screamingly blank. Or: Lan Zhan accidentally finds his best friend's OnlyFans account and has an ongoing emotional crisis. Series
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In which Lan Zhan falls hard for the single father he met at the park, A-yuan decides his small family is in need of a new member and Wei Ying is helpless on this ride (but he loves it anyway).
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Wei Ying barks out a laugh. “I would love to sit in one of your lessons someday,” he says with a grin. “I wonder what kind of lecturer you are. Like, do you talk a lot? Not talk at all? Do you just stare at your students and hope that some kind of mind telepathy is able to convey your words for you?” “Of course I do not,” Lan Zhan says with a small frown. Wei Ying thinks it’s almost enough to resemble an actual human emotion, but it’s gone as quickly as it had come. (Or, Wei Ying is Lan Zhan's son's teacher, Lan Zhan is also a teacher at the same school, and everything is absolutely, one-hundred-and-ten percent a-okay.)
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Xichen sat back, hands steepled in front of him. The cat revealed its claws, he thought. He waved away the comment dismissively. “We are not discussing everyone, we are speaking of my brother…and yours.” “Fine,” Jiang Cheng answered, but his eyes sparked with a successful hit made. Xichen was thankful that Sect Leader Jiang had let it lie. “So, we come back to the issue at hand. What do wish me to do, Jiang Wanyin?” Jiang Cheng leaned forward, a devious look on his face, “you and I, Zewu-Jun, are going to get those two idiots together.
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Oikawa Tooru doesn't need an alpha. He's doing fine all on his own. And the past four years of being a single mother have proven that this is exactly what he wanted from life. Of course, life has a way of not always going as planned.
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Stiles finds a baby on the porch. It looks exactly like him. Well, this is awkward.
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Struggling as a single parent sucks. Especially when he had so many other responsibilities. So when Izuku asks his best friend to help him find a better job, he doesn't expect that to lead to becoming the sugar baby of the Symbol of Victory himself, Ground Zero.
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Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth. “Not too close, he bites.” Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting. “He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton. The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.” “Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek. He looked extremely displeased.
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Castiel has had twelve nannies quit on him in the past three months, and by now he's at the end of his wit. He's overworked trying to deal with Amelia leaving, Claire chasing away ever nanny that Castiel hires, and his mother pestering him about the family image. With his patience drawn thin, Castiel decides to go against tradition and hire a male omega by the name of Dean Winchester. Castiel expected the omega to be gone by the end of the week. He certainly did not expect to fall in love.
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Dean's roommate is not what anyone would call ordinary. Cas is asexual, and autistic, and he frustrates other people with his unrelentingly 'childish' ways – but it's different with Dean: they have an exceptional bond, something truly profound. Dean figures Cas wouldn't respond to the idea of a crush the way most people would, so he has no intention of telling him he's been harbouring non-platonic feelings for him for years. Then one night everything falls to piece: Cas overhears something he wasn't meant to hear. Things were never normal between the two of them, but now they might never be comfortable again.
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As a phlebotomist with the Red Cross, Castiel has donors, not patients, and given donation protocols spacing appointments out, it typically takes a year to call someone a regular. Castiel bonds with his coworkers instead, and he stays over with his best friend and godson almost as often as he goes home. There's little exciting in the day-to-day, but routine is no hardship. A new part of that routine comes in the form of a talkative if nervous man named Dean, whose pulse races every time Castiel takes it. Dean often flushes and looks uncomfortable, although he covers it up with jokes, teasing, and a ready smile. It makes his consistent, fortnightly platelet donations all the more admirable, but for some reason, Dean only looks even more nervous whenever Castiel brings that up.
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The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist. Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope. He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles. “I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”
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