#thursday next!dean

[tvxcue]

but it is kind of annoying that death stops mattering bc jared and jensen are good at showing that it does! like red meat is so good bc it depends on that! like this is just a regular hunt for them and sam is dying and dean is losing his fucking mind. dean literally kills himself because of it. and then, bc hes insane, he tells sam that he knew he wasn’t dead. normal people things. and the finale of s11! dean is going to die to solve the big plot and sam is standing there saying goodbye to his brother and at first it’s like they’re not going to do anything but then dean says “come here” and he pulls sam in for a hug and sam folds himself in against deans shoulder and they’re saying goodbye and this isn’t nothing to them!!!!! it was never nothing, it’s always heartbreaking and gut wrenching and it’s the worst thing you could think of, it’s your worst nightmare come to life, it’s the thing you would give anything to stop!!! dean went to hell just so he wouldn’t have to live without sam. this never stops. they never stop being willing to die for each other, they never stop grieving, it doesn’t matter how many deaths it’s been, they grieve every single time.

#like it stopped mattering after s5 bc of the metanarrative of the show coming back from the dead like the show just kept going #even after it should have died so if spn comes back so do the winchesters bc it's abt the feeling. #you can die twenty times and it'll be a death every single time every single one of those deaths means something #and the thing abt spn is that it stops meaning smth in terms of the narrative. there aren't any consequences for it so it's a nonthing #a nonevent. another thursday night. bc it won't matter for next week's episode it won't matter for next season or the season after #but! it still does matter to sam and dean! and it works for them and it works to show just how fucking messed up they are #bc it's been nine years since ahbl and sam died and dean is killing himself to bring him back. bc thats still his pain in the ass little #brother. its his job to watch out for his little brother. he says he'll be back for sam he cant just leave him there he'll come back. #did dean take his body back to that little house himself. did bobby help. what was deans plan before he decided to make that deal. #he could never bury his brother he could never burn his body he could never leave him there. #and like the au world when dean does have to leave sams body behind hes haunted he can barely talk like!!!!!!!!!!!! #sorry. #speaking

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You missed the quality time you'd been spending with your husband as soon as it started to slip away. You were busy with work, and Bradley was being called upon again, just like he always was. But before he prepares to leave, your curiosity gets the best of you.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, oral, smut, talking about trying for a baby

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

As May became June, the temperatures got hotter and the beaches got more crowded, and your evening walks with Tramp became a little less frequent as a result. You also felt like your time with Bradley was starting to become a little more sporadic. Work and other obligations were starting to break into the bubble that the two of you had managed to re-form, and you kind of missed how cozy you'd been.

"I'll be home late on Tuesday, Roo. I have a meeting with Bickel."

"Mav asked me to teach on Thursday, so don't wait for me if you're hungry for dinner."

By the time you got to Friday night, you ended up at the Hard Deck, because everyone kept bugging you to go. And you knew that Bradley was proud of your hard work and the fact that your boss seemed to be lining you up to take over after his eventual retirement. And it wasn't like you weren't absolutely thrilled that Top Gun was entrusting Bradley with teaching their incoming students with more frequency. But you were just craving more of the intimate hours you got used to at home. With just Bradley and a bath with champagne followed by him reading from his notebooks. 

"You want another beer?" Bradley asked you next to the noisy pool table as you shook your head. Nat had already given you two, and you just wanted to go home already. You tried to socialize with everyone a little bit more. Fanboy was about to leave for a long deployment, so you made sure you gave him an extra hug or two. And then Payback showed up with the girl he was dating, so you chatted with her for a little bit. But after another hour, you were feeling antsy. 

Any day now, you were certain Bradley would be telling you he had been chosen for the top secret special detachment. And in just a few more days, he would be on base in Lemoore until the judge made a decision regarding Admiral Dean and Slayer. And there was nothing you could do about either of those things. 

You were also pretty sure you were almost done ovulating right now in spite of your best efforts to try not to think about it. And the past few days had been a bust with how busy the two of you were. The last thing you wanted to do was push Bradley to have sex when one or both of you were tired or clearly not in the mood for it. But there was a tiny bit of doubt that was creeping in, making you feel like this was a wasted month. But on the other hand, just looking at him right now was making you warm. You knew it was probably just your hormones, but you wanted him and his attention all to yourself.

Immediately you set your empty beer bottle down and wrapped your arms around your husband as he talked to his best friend. He rubbed your back as you pressed your cheek to his chest, already feeling a little better. You didn't care if Nat heard you; she was already Bradley's sounding board for so many things. So you smiled at her and then looked up at him as he paused with his beer most of the way to his mouth. 

"Bradley," you said, your voice a little needy even to your own ears. "I love you, and it's been a really long week, and I just kind of miss when we were spending so much time together. Can we go home now and relax?"

Bradley handed Nat his half empty beer and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Can we finish talking about this later?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied with a smirk. "Goodnight, you two."

Then he laced his fingers with yours and led you out of the bar and onto the deck where he immediately picked you up for a piggy back ride. "Why didn't you say something sooner? I thought you wanted to come out and see Fanboy and do the whole Hard Deck thing tonight."

"I kind of did," you said, kissing his ear as he carried you to the Bronco. "But it got old fast compared to being at home with you. It's just been a long week, and I missed you. And I know you'll be in Lemoore in a few days, and then the special detachment is coming up, and-"

"Hey," Bradley said firmly as he set you down next to the Bronco. "I'm right here, and I'm more than happy to take you home and stay there for the rest of the weekend. I'd love to do that, in fact."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. "Maybe you can call Nat tomorrow? And finish your conversation with her then?"

"Maybe," he replied. "Or maybe I'll be too busy with my wife. Either way, it works for me."

He buckled you in with another kiss before he climbed in and zipped the short distance back home. Then you made a sandwich for a late night snack and cut it in half to share with him. He lifted you up onto the counter and finished his in three bites, and you felt so much better being at home alone with him. You finally felt like you could focus. 

"Are you still hungry?" you asked while he downed a glass of water and watched you finish eating. 

"Not for a sandwich, Sweetheart." His voice was raspy, and the fine hairs on your neck and arms were standing on end as he took a step closer. 

"Oh," you whispered as he leaned against the counter with his hands on either side of your thighs. You ate the last few bites slowly before you asked, "Are you going to tell me what you're hungry for? Maybe it's something I could get ready for you?"

He groaned softly as he kissed the side of your neck and whispered, "I wanna eat your pussy, Baby Girl. Will you let me?"

An hour ago, you had been feeling overstimulated and annoyed. Now you were unbuttoning your shorts and whining your husband's name. Next time you wouldn't wait so long to tell him you just needed a few minutes alone with him so you could feel better. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Bradley said as he sank down to his knees in front of you and helped you out of your shorts and underwear. He spread your legs wide and ran his index finger back and forth across your clit. "Let me enjoy this perfect pussy, and then I'll read to you from my notebook in bed."

He peppered a few kisses on your thigh, then his mouth was all over you. Your fingers gripped his hair as you tried to stay upright while he buried his face in you. "Roo," you gasped as his mustache hit just the right spot. You rocked gently against his face as he licked long stripes up and down before letting his pretty lips settle on your clit. He knew exactly how to get you off, but right now, he was taking his time. 

"Fucking gorgeous," he whispered, looking up at you and smiling before kissing you everywhere. He fucked you expertly with his tongue, and you were afraid you were pulling his hair too hard, but he didn't stop. 

Soft, needy sounds gave way to you begging him to let you come. "Please, Daddy!" 

He grunted and fucked you with two fingers while he sucked on you in a gentle, steady rhythm. The pressure was just right. His rough mustache was perfect. You came, tugging on his hair until he was standing up. His cheeks were rosy, and his pupils were blown wide, and his face was wet from a mix of your pussy and his saliva. 

He was the most handsome thing that ever existed, and now he was kissing your lips with that mouth that tasted like you. This time you were a little gentler as you combed your fingers through his hair while he rutted against you. 

"You just needed a night in with your Daddy. You feel better now?"

"I really did need you," you promised. Then you softly asked him, "Do you want to fuck me?"

He was panting slightly as he muttered, "Of course I do. You're my perfect wife."

You undid his pants and pushed them down a few inches, and he was right at your entrance, ready to go. But he was hesitating, his cheeks growing a shade darker as he swallowed hard. "I'm not gonna last."

He was just that turned on from going down on you. "I don't care," you promised him. You were so relaxed and sated, you kind of felt like you could melt into a puddle on the kitchen island. And then he was thrusting inside you, his hips rolling and pushing your thighs wider. 

He wrapped his hands around your waist and shook his head, and soon he was muttering that he was about to finish. So you leaned back on your elbows and planted your feet on the edge of the counter and said, "I was a good girl all week. Give me a cream pie?"

Your husband stroked your rooster tattoo with his right thumb as he fucked you harder until you were struggling to keep your feet planted in place. "Oh, shit," he growled when he came. Once his movements had stilled, he withdrew from you and smiled. "That's a beautiful cream pie, if I do say so myself. We do some of our best work in the kitchen." 

You were both giggly and a little bit messy as Bradley carried you to bed. When he flipped to a random page in the notebook, you curled up against him. "What am I supposed to do when you're gone again? We have no idea how long you'll be in Lemoore. And who knows about the special mission either."

He sighed and kissed your forehead. "As far as I'm concerned, Lemoore should be cut and dry. I'll drive up with Nat and Bob, and we'll all read our statements. And hopefully that's it."

"And hopefully Dean and Slayer get fucking reprimanded to the letter of the law," you added.

"Well, that too," he said with a laugh. "But I'll be back home quickly, and we don't even know if I'll get selected for the detachment, so let's not worry about that yet." Then he cleared his throat and started to read from his notebook.

"I can't believe how much time I wasted with other women. The few minutes of satisfaction did not outweigh the fact that I didn't really want to get to know them at all. And maybe even worse, the fact that I could tell they thought I was only good for one thing. The more I think about it, maybe I really only was good for one thing."

You cut him off with a kiss and said, "I don't really like this page. I don't like it when you're hard on yourself."

Bradley looked at you with soft eyes and smiled. "Want me to read something else?"

You wrapped your arms around him a little tighter, but you said, "No. Finish this one."

He cleared his throat again and continued. 

"At the time, I guess I thought I was living in the moment, and that I'd have these experiences to look back on someday when I was older. But now I don't like thinking about it, because the main thing I remember is that I was selling myself short in every way. What's the point in having meaningless sex over and over again when what you're actually craving is attention and affection? What's the point in kicking someone out of your bed after an hour when your skin starts to crawl, when all you really want is to find the right person to keep with you all night long?

I don't understand how my wife is so gracious. I really don't get the way she can look at me and see something worth her precious time. But I'm so thankful she does."

You snuggled against him quietly, your thoughts swirling. "Roo? I don't understand why you didn't just try to take me home with you after we met."

Bradley snorted and chuckled as he set the notebook aside. "You mean when I couldn't stop staring at you when we were on base working together? Or you mean the night when we first talked at the Hard Deck?"

You closed your eyes and considered the difference. Jake had asked you out during work hours two days after you met him, but you were already distracted by Bradley at that point. And maybe you'd have let Bradley take you home from the bar, but then you probably would have never gone on a real date with him. 

"I think I would have gone home with you from the bar," you said softly. "If you'd asked."

Bradley's fingers dug into your body as he said, "Then you would have thought I was a joke just like every other woman. And maybe that's why I didn't try my shitty pickup lines or any of my moves on you. Yeah, you and I were flirting, but everything I did and said to you was sincere, because I could tell I was getting your genuine undivided attention. You weren't only looking at me like I could take care of you physically for an hour.  And that was a very rare thing."

"Oh," you sighed, crawling fully on top of him now. You smiled and kissed him until the concerned crease in his forehead smoothed out. "You always make me feel like you knew we would get married someday as soon as you looked at me."

Bradley rubbed his hands up under your shirt. "I think I subconsciously hoped so, Sweetheart. But I had to play the limited cards in my hand just right to even stand a chance."

You were starting to get sleepy now, and his rough hands felt so good everywhere. "What would you have said to me if you just wanted to hookup?" you asked, laughing as he groaned. 

"You don't want to know, Sweetheart. You would have probably laughed in my face and walked away, because I was using the same dumb tactics since I was twenty four."

You kissed his sternum as your mind once again swirled with information. "This is all very intriguing," you murmured as you started to doze.

----------------------------

Bradley was waiting on the porch with you after work on Monday evening, his arms wrapped around you as you kissed him. It was a five hour drive up to Lemoore, and Nat was on her way to pick him up. 

"Call or text me when you get there," you said between kisses as your fingers teased and tugged at his hair. "Even if it's late."

"I will," he promised, kind of no longer content to just be making out with you. There wasn't enough time for anything else, even though you were moaning softly into his mouth and letting your hands explore the front of his body now. "Baby Girl," he warned. The last thing he wanted was an erection when he had to leave you in the next few minutes. 

But you just kissed him harder and said, "I love you," and now Bradley was thinking about retiring and spending every night with you for the rest of his life. 

"Fuck," he grunted when he heard Nat's SUV. When he opened his eyes, she was careening into the driveway behind your shitty little car. His best friend was such a bad driver, he wasn't exactly sure why he and Bob agreed to put her behind the wheel today, but he certainly wouldn't mind if Nat totaled your car right now. She came to a screeching halt mere inches from your bumper. At least that disappointment was enough to stave off his boner. 

You walked Bradley to the driveway, and Bob put the passenger side window down so you could chat with them while Bradley put his garment bag in the trunk along with your small overnight bag he was using. If he wasn't back by Wednesday night, he was going to be so pissed off. 

"I made you guys cookies and some blueberry muffins," you told Bob, handing two containers over. Bradley snuck up behind you and pressed himself against your rear end as you tried to have a normal conversation with his friends. You ended up just saying good luck before turning to face him. "You're obnoxious," you whispered. 

"I know. It's just because I love you so much," he replied with a smirk, earning another heated kiss before you pushed him toward the back door. "I'll let you know when we get there."

Bradley had to push snack wrappers and other assorted trash onto the floor with a grimace so he could buckle his seat belt. Nat turned to look at him. "You and your wife are so gross," she said with a laugh.

"Not as gross as your car. Hey, any chance you can put it in drive instead of reverse and then floor the accelerator?" he asked, only half kidding as he looked at your car.

"No," Nat replied as she backed out. "She'd never forgive me."

Then the three of them waved to you, and they were off. Bradley tried to have a muffin without making a mess of the crumbs, but he watched as Nat just brushed them onto the floor while she drove and ate. "You guys think anything will even happen to Dean?" she asked with her mouth full. 

"If everything is good and just in the world, then yes," Bob said in an even tone. 

"I fucking hope so," Bradley added. "If for no other reason than the fact that they are making us go up to Lemoore."

------------------------

On Tuesday, the courtroom was packed with people who were there to make statements against Admiral Dean. There were so many people in fact, that Bradley was surprised this man had been allowed to fuck up this many missions for his own agenda before he ended up in front of a judge in a military courtroom. The benches of witnesses were jammed as Bradley squeezed in next to Nat, and the room was so warm, he didn't know how he'd manage all day in his dress blues. 

"Look at everyone," she whispered as she tugged at her collar. "We'll be here all week."

Bradley had to listen to the two lawyers argue for a bit, but once things started rolling, he was starting to get a solid picture of what was going on here. Admiral Dean moved from the Atlantic Fleet to the Pacific Fleet with a small reprimand after showing clear favoritism to the pilots out of Naval Air Station Key West. He'd cost an aviator her life among a laundry list of other fucked up things, a fact that made Bradley's somach turn. He nudged Nat's leg with his, thankful his friend was still here even though she looked like she was half asleep. 

But once Dean had been placed in Lemoore, things somehow got even worse. Bradley listened to a statement from a pilot who felt like he had been forced into early retirement by Dean. Then there was a weapons systems officer who said she'd been passed over for promotions by Dean because she tried to call him out on his behavior. 

When he, Bob and Nat were called up with the others who had been in the air with Slayer back in April, Bradley had to stand there and feel the glare from two sets of eyes burning into him as he gave his honest testimony of the events of that day. He didn't hold back. He talked about the fact that he had been named the spare when he would have never gone off course like Slayer did. He made sure to make his point when he said everyone in the air was at risk simply because Slayer had been selected for the mission over him. And he ended things by pointing out that by the time he got to the scene of the dogfighting, some of the others were already nearly out of ammunition and fuel. 

He made eye contact with Dean and then Slayer once he was finished, and then Bob was called up. And then Nat was called up. And then all of the others as well. The details that were being recounted could all be pieced together to give an honest picture of what happened that day. Dean should have been squirming in his seat, and Bradley was delighted to see that he was as the day wore on and on. 

Bradley's stomach was growling loudly, and he was annoyed when the judge said, "Let's all reconvene tomorrow morning for final statements and a decision. Everyone is dismissed for now."

"We have to stay another night?" Nat whined, yanking at her tie on the way out of the courtroom. "Just strip the asshole of his rank right now."

Bradley tended to agree with her. What was the sense in drawing this out any longer? He could have been on his way home to you, but instead he was picking up takeout for dinner and walking it back to his tiny hotel room across the street from the barracks on base. He inhaled his dinner while he texted you some updates, and just when he was hoping to call and maybe have some filthy phone sex, he got a call from someone else. 

He sighed and answered. "Hey, Mav. What's up?"

"You're still in Lemoore?" 

"Yeah. Until at least tomorrow," Bradley grunted. 

Mav paused for a beat. "I wanted to tell you in person, but tomorrow night won't give you as much time to prepare. You've been selected. For the special detachment. You'll have to fly out of Miramar by Comanche on Monday morning."

Bradley's heart was pounding with anticipation and nerves. "Where am I going?"

"That's all the information I have. The clearances for this thing are tight to say the least. When you get back down here, you'll need to talk to Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates immediately."

"Fuck," Bradley whispered. "Thanks for the call."

He sat in silence for a few minutes, wondering if he should call and tell you right now or wait until he got home. He collapsed back on the bed, knowing this was the kind of conversation he'd rather have with you face to face, but it would be much worse if you thought he was trying to hide anything from you. He reached for his phone. 

After one ring, he heard your voice. "Roo." You sounded so sweet, he could picture the way you must have been curled up in bed reading by now. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing his face with one hand. 

Your soft laughter made him want to touch himself as you said, "Can we talk about how much I want to suck your cock right now?"

"Fuck. Baby Girl. Wait."

Your voice took on a different tone entirely. "What's wrong?"

"Maverick just called me. I'm going on the special detachment. I leave Monday." When you asked him for details, he had none to give you. And when you asked him if he was happy, he didn't really know how to respond. "I think... relieved is the right word for how I'm feeling. I don't want to leave you again, but I do feel like this is something I needed."

And then you told him that you were proud of him.

-------------------------------

You had a missed call from Bradley plus a new text message when you looked at your phone the following afternoon, but you couldn't even call him back. You were sitting between Cat and Commander Bickel for a video conference with a group in Annapolis. Video conferences were the fucking worst invention. You didn't want to have to look at that bald guy in Maryland picking his nose on a huge screen. And you certainly didn't want to have to listen to this other idiot talk about things that had nothing to do with your lab for hours on end. 

The only good part was the catered lunch, but even that prevented you from calling Bradley back. You looked at the most recent text he sent you saying Dean and Slayer had been sentenced and that he was on his way home. You sent him back a thumbs up. The details would have to wait until later. 

"Come here," Cat said, giving you a look as she jerked her head to the side.

"What?" you asked as you tried to eat your sandwich before the conference started back up for the afternoon. You had been alternating who you ate lunch with when you made it to the cafeteria, and you'd also been trying to give her and Jake plenty of time together this week without being the third wheel. 

"I'm not worried exactly, but... Jake has a lot of women texting his phone," she said bluntly. "Should I be worried?"

You were kind of stunned, not that you really paid much attention to what he used his phone for. "He has other women texting him?" 

Cat nodded, and you thought it wasn't fair that someone that beautiful should look so insecure. "Most of the messages are from phone numbers he hasn't saved in his contacts. And I didn't go snooping, but he's not trying to hide it. He just leaves his phone out, and then I see them."

You felt a little sick. "What are they saying to him?"

"Hey Jake, it's Brittany, haven't seen you at the bar. Or Jake, call me if you want to come over. Or my personal favorite, Wanna come over and fuck?"

"No," you gasped. "Oh my god, Cat. There's no way he's hooking up with anyone else. It's probably just some residuals."

She shrugged and picked at her own sandwich. "Well it's a lot for me. And this is kind of the reason why I didn't want to get involved months ago," she whispered, looking sheepish. 

"I'll talk to him."

"No." She shook her head. "Then he'll know I told you, and I don't want to make him mad at me."

"He won't get mad at you, Cat." You wanted to be reassuring, because you really were sure he wasn't sleeping around. "Is he being sweet to you? And Jeremiah?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. She closed her eyes and whispered, "We slept together for the first time last weekend. It was... it was so good. And he's great with Jer. Like a natural." When she opened her dark eyes again she looked less calm. "I'll talk to him myself."

Then Bickel called everyone back to their seats. "The conference is picking up again," he said in such a monotone voice, you loved him even more for hating this meeting. "Could have been an email," he muttered, and everyone from your lab erupted into laughter as you took your seats. 

You used the minute of confusion while everyone moved around the conference table to text Jake instead of Bradley. 

I sincerely hope you have your text messages under control. 

-----------------------

Bradley had already been home for a few minutes when you ran in after work. "Well? What happened?" you asked while you hopped around inside the front door as you removed your boots one at a time.

He was stretched out on the couch staring at the ceiling. "Just give me another minute. Nat's driving did a number on me."

But you strolled over and laid down right on top of him which made him laugh. "I don't want to give you another minute. I missed you."

"I missed you, too." You kissed him and Bradley ran his hands down to your lower back. "And you know I love your ass in your uniform pants."

"What happened with Dean and Slayer?" you asked, not letting him indulge just yet. 

"Well, Dean will not be retiring as an Admiral, and Slayer is on a year-long leave or absence with one third pay."

You smiled instantly. "They stripped Dean's rank?"

"They sure did, Sweetheart. And they are going to force him to retire without benefits."

"Damn," you whispered as you kissed his chin. "He had it coming. They both did."

"Now onto more important things," Bradley said. "Two nights sleeping on that shitty hotel room bed made my back hurt."

"You poor, sweet thing," you crooned softly. 

"I know," he murmured. "I require a bath complete with you and some champagne. And then I'm hoping you'll welcome me back to our bed in the warmest way."

"I think that can be arranged." You got up and started to unbutton your uniform shirt on your way to the refrigerator. "We have one bottle left."

When you turned back, he was already gone, and you could hear the water running in your bathroom. "Seriously?" you asked as you ran in there to find him naked as the tub filled. 

"What? I missed you a lot."

The special detachment was going to feel like forever, you just knew it. And you'd be surprised if he'd be allowed to have contact with you at all for the duration. But that wasn't the only thing that you'd been thinking about this week. After he left for Lemoore, you'd read his notebook from cover to cover, and while you were certainly curious, you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. 

You slipped into the tub and into his open arms, the water just almost too hot to handle as he popped the champagne bottle and took a sip as it overflowed slightly. You straddled his thighs and pressed the bottle to your lips as he started a playlist on his phone. 

"Roo?"

"Yeah, Sweetheart?"

He set his phone down and pulled you close as you said, "I read your notebook while you were gone."

"You'll have it memorized soon," he replied with a chuckle as he kissed your shoulder. 

You took another sip of champagne before handing him the bottle. "I keep thinking about how you said you used to pick girls up before you met me, and..."

He raised one eyebrow as he drank, and then he licked his lips. "Yeah?"

"Well, I'm still curious."

He laughed and shook his head. "First of all, I was a bit of a mess before I realized I stood a chance with you and cleaned up my act. You already know that. And second, there's no way you'd have gone for any of my bullshit, I can almost guarantee that."

"But like, what were your go-to lines? What were your moves?" He tipped your chin up and looked at you closely. "Come on. Just humor me."

"God, Baby Girl. I'm sure it was all really quite embarrassing. Especially when I was younger."

You kissed his cheek and then his lips and you could feel him start to stir against your thigh. "Could you try it on me?" you asked softly. "For fun?"

Bradley's cheeks were pink and his lips tasted like champagne, and for some reason you desperately wanted to know what it would have been like if you met him five years earlier and he tried to get you to go home with him right away. 

He was stroking your tattoo absentmindedly beneath the water as he eventually asked, "What exactly did you have in mind, Sweetheart?"

"Well, there's this bar..."

-------------------------

I have been excited about the next few chapters for such a long time! So happy you're here! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

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@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #always ever only you

[hotel-casifornia]

just thought about the fact that destiel confession was a Real Actual thing that happened Live on Television. like youre kidding. he cared about the whole world because of dean? dean????? youre joking. castiel said that. Castiel angel of Thursday. He said that???? shut up. what did he say next? i love you ????????? come the fuck on. youre kidding. no fucking way

#im gonna throw up #dont look at me #‘you changed me’ ‘why does that sound like a goodbye’ ‘because it is’ DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural #spnposting #spn 15x18 #15x18

[starspyder]

𝘐 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘺 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘕𝘦𝘢𝘵 // 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳

Summary: Dean Winchester is a hardened man. While he would love to, he can’t maintain a proper relationship due to his line of work. With how much of a sweetheart you are, Dean finds it almost impossible to keep you at an arm’s distance.

Warnings: implied age gap but it's not fully mentioned (reader is 27, Dean is 40 in this if ur curious), moderate angst, AQUAPHOBIA WARNING (almost-drowning), witches, canon-typical violence, Dean saves you hehe, fluff, lowkey grumpy x sunshine, Dean is in denial and thinks you deserve better than him, self-hatred, guilt on Dean’s part, you’re both into each other but he’s so scared of hurting you, Southern!Reader bc i said so hehehe, Dean is YEARNING

Gif from Pinterest

Word Count: 1462

Dean would never consider himself soft. Sure, he was good with kids, but only because he basically had to raise Sam by himself. Those experiences in his own childhood slipped from his hands like sand in an hourglass, and that little ball of softness went right with it. 

Until one case in Louisiana, when it practically fell right into his arms. 

He and Sam had been there tracking a coven of witches in New Orleans, like something straight out of American Horror Story. Based on the news reports, the victims were all friends or family of one of the suspected witches– likely her initiation into the group, to prove she was worthy. A young girl had gotten caught in the crossfire, simply because she was roommates with one of them, and accidentally led the Winchesters right to the coven. 

He’d seen you right before they began the real hunt, having gone back to your house for a final round of questioning. Truthfully, he’d gone by to flirt his way into checking the house for any hex bags, but your witchy roommate was good about keeping it out of her living space. When he didn’t find anything, he couldn’t seem to deny your offer for a cup of coffee, while you did your best to inquire about the case. 

“Why do you think Rebecca is involved?” You asked, somewhat nervously. 

You sat across from Dean as he sat on the couch, cross-legged in a papasan chair, one hand tapping your thigh nervously and the other holding your floral patterned mug. 

“We’re just trying to rule her out as a suspect, Ma’am. As soon as we do that, the sooner we can get to figuring out what’s been happening around here.” He had reassured you. “Are you sure you haven’t been noticing any irregularities in her routine?” 

“We have each other on some tracking app, just to be safe, y’know? She tells me that she leaves her job at 7:30 every Thursday, which is a fifteen minute drive from here. Rebecca would always tell me when she should be home, just in case anything happened,” You sighed. 

Dean’s eyebrows raised as he waited patiently for you to continue. 

“About three months ago, she just kinda’ stopped doin’ it. She’s been going out a lot more than normal, with a big group of girls– met ‘em at work, she said.” “Do you know where they’ve been going?” 

“Mostly just to clubs around town. I checked one day because she hadn’t been home all night and I was worried. Her last location was some place near Lake Pontchartrain, a few miles deep into the woods. I tried finding it online, but nothing turned up. Rebecca hates being outside, she hates camping and all that stuff, so there’s no reason for her to be there.” 

“Do you happen to have an exact location?” 

Your head shook. “It’s a big area, not a lot of cell towers.” 

Dean leaned forward and took your hand, which had still been tapping against your leg. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me, Sweetheart.” The next night, a Thursday, Sam and Dean had tracked the coven down to some ritual spot in the middle of the forest. It didn’t take them long, considering that half a mile out, they could hear terrified cries for help. 

They found you, tied to a tree and begging for your life as the witches teased and taunted you– even the girl who you told them you considered your best friend. 

“You know, Y/N, you’re just too sweet sometimes. You even let an entire coven slip under your nose, because you couldn’t think for a second that your best friend would ever hurt you.” Rebecca sneered, kneeling in front of you and tracing the swell of your cheek with a knife.

“Please, Becca, don't hurt me, I won’t tell anyone!” You cried, tugging against the ropes that cut into your wrists. 

Dean was ready to jump out and kill her right then, but Sam’s arm across his chest kept him at bay. For now. “Don’t hurt me! Please, spare me. Killing you is the key to getting everything I’ve ever wanted! You’re the one who kept telling me to do what I wanted for once!” Dean watched as the large bonfire cast an orange glow over your terrified features, and his chest ached that he couldn’t quell that fear. It made him think back to Lisa, how much he cared for her. Only after a week, wasDean absolutely enamored with you. 

It didn’t take long for the brothers to swing into action, killing the witches with surprising ease. They were plenty in number, but their skill couldn’t rival the brothers’ experience. 

As Sam cut your ropes, Dean was chasing after Rebecca as she chanted out a string of Latin. By the time he killed her, the damage had been done and you were writhing on the forest floor, water coming out of your mouth like there was a well in your lungs. 

You collapsed into Dean’s arms, grasping at your throat as your eyes watered, chest heaving through the pain. 

“Find the fucking bag!” Dean yelled, maneuvering you on your knees, face pointed at the ground as you drowned in open air. Sam dropped to the ground, fumbling through piles of leaves and dirt to find the offending item. In the scramble, the hex bag was kicked near the fire, causing Dean to yank his gun out and shoot it, breaking the spell. 

You gasped for breath like a fish out of water as you coughed up the last of the water wheezing and panicking from the fear. “It's okay, you’re safe.” Dean comforted, holding you to his chest as your body was wracked with sobs.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart.” 

When they were leaving town, Dean made one last stop to visit you in the hospital where you were recovering. 

“How are you feelin’, Sweetheart?” He asked, sitting next to your hospital bed. The doctors had decided to keep you for observation for a few days, citing potential damage to your lungs. 

“Like hell,” You said with a grin. “Y’all headin’ off?” 

Dean nodded. “Gotta head back home. Do you have anywhere you’re planning on going once you’re out of this dump?” 

“Not really. I don’t have any family I’m close to, so nobody to couch-surf with. I’m definitely leavin’, though. ‘M not quite sure where I’ll end up.” 

He could hear the tinge of sadness in your voice. He knew what it was like to not have a family, a place to call home. He knew it all too well. 

“Come with us.” 

The rest was history. 

Dean couldn’t help but think back to that day often. How lucky he was to have saved at least one life that day. Your life. 

He often felt dirty. You were a bright young girl, who could’ve had a great future, had you not been caught up in the mess of their lives. Not once did you ever complain, going with the flow and learning what you could to help them. You were so selfless, almost to a fault; you put up with his temper, his yelling, and when he was feeling particularly annoying. You helped clean his wounds when he was hurt, and when he was once sick, you made him tomato and rice soup, that tasted just like what Mary would make when he still held his innocence. 

Dean took his whiskey neat, while you stuck to those same girly cocktails that Sam swore he didn't like.

You were too good to be tarnished by the likes of Dean Winchester. 

Dean would always be an eternally bitter man who was constantly angry at something. He rose early due to incessant nightmares, drinking black coffee at three in the morning to stave off his near constant exhaustion. When those nightmares were about you, as they often were, nowadays, he would poke his head in your bedroom just a few doors down, his heart rate calming at how soft you looked, wrapped up in your blankets and a small light on your desk casting a warm light around the room. 

Your skin would always glow under the light, illuminating your features and the curve of your nose, how your hair fell into your face and how you would let out a wistful sigh every so often. 

You were such a stark contrast to the man who stood in your doorway almost every night. If Dean was marble, you were a flower that could be crushed under it. He was the knife, you were the sacrificial lamb. No matter what universe, Dean would ultimately be your demise, just like everyone else in his life. 

As he would gently close the door, he would take one last look at you and whisper one sentence. 

“You’re too sweet for me.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #starspyderfics #supernatural #supernatural x reader

[jackles010378]

Sleepyhead Dean:

Prompt: We need a sleepy dean story!! Just some real fluff where he plonks himself on readers lap wherever she is and just snuggles into her lap 😍

Just pure fluff for @janineb86

A Dean Winchester story x reader

It was Thursday night and it was movie night. Sam had gone out with Eileen so it was just you and Dean. You were waiting for Dean in his "cave" trying to pick a movie to watch.

You know Dean didn't do chick flicks but you really wanted to watch the notebook, it was your turn to pick after all. So you placed the dvd in the player and got it all set up.

Dean came jumping over the sofa nearly spilling the popcorn and his beer everywhere, when he looked up at the TV "ah jeez y/n, the notebook, seriously. What's my rule?" You looked at him and took a swig of your beer "it's my turn to pick so I choose chick flick" giving him that look that you know always makes him cave.

Dean didn't exactly know when he started to have feelings for you, but he does. You're his best friend and he doesn't want to jeopardize it. So he represses his feelings and keeps his mouth shut. But what he doesn't know is you have feelings for him too.

Half way through the movie you look at Dean who was half asleep. "If you don't wanna watch go to bed sleepy head" his head springs up "no no I'm watching, just boring is all, wouldn't be like this if you had picked an action movie" really he doesn't want to leave you, he wants to spend as much time with you as he can so he tries to stay awake.

Nearing towards the end of the film you feel a weight on your shoulder. Dean had slowly slumped down falling asleep. You took a quick glance at him, he looked so peaceful you didn't have the heart to move him. Instead you lay down and slowly pulled him down with you. You felt his whole body relax and his arm snake around your waist, hugging you so tightly like he didn't want to let go. You turned the TV off and lay there happily with Dean right next to you. Maybe, just maybe in the morning you would tell him how you felt. But right here, right now in this moment you would cherish forever ❤️

Short but sweet, hope you liked it 🥰

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #jackles #jensen ross ackles #supernatural #soldier boy #spn cast #deanwinchtser #jensen ackles gifs #beau arlen

[gravitywillnevermeananything]

I think castiel should have more Thursday references 🤔. Like he's the angel of Thursday, it should just be drawn to him. Like everyone wants to make plans with him on Thursday specifically . Fake FBI interview Thursday, book club Thursday, Jack's ballet classes Thursday , Dean's and his date night Thursday . The waiter that slipped him a love note during dinner , guess what ? What's to make plans next Thursday for fling.

I don't know , like random events like a Thursday super sale on pies, girls night with Crowley, free movie/ event/food on specifically Thursday and only ever for castiel. Just really spontaneous thing . Is just funny to me .

Castiel just muttering to himself " it is a Thursday", with a deep resignation

#spn headcanon #supernatural #castiel #spnfandom #deanwinchtser #jack kline #crowley #deancas #Spn ideas #Spn

[wincestwednesdays]

WINCEST WEDNESDAYS:

         — a weekly wincest fest running through the month of october 2023.

are you ready to get 🎃 spooky 🎃 with sam and dean? halloween season is approaching, and we're more excited than dean with a pile of candy on the passenger seat! the goal of this event is to have a month-long celebration of the things we love about wincest, this time with some seasonal flare. 👻🍬

event info —

there are two prompts to choose from for each date, leaving you the choice of which to complete.

you are free to make as many fills as you want, so using both prompts is encouraged!

each set of prompts will be open to your interpretation– there are no wrong answers.

this event accepts any contribution, including gifsets, photo edits, video edits, fanmixes, fic, meta, rec lists adhering to your chosen prompt… anything you feel inspired to create.

contributions must be new, meaning they were created for this event.

contributions will be reblogged every wednesday and thursday throughout october. late submissions are accepted and will be reblogged the next wednesday.

every post must mention us (@wincestwednesdays) and be tagged #wincest and #wincest wednesday.

— and whether you're drawn more to tricks or treats, make sure you have fun. 🦇

#wincest #wincestedit #wincestevents #? #corespnedit

[chaosandwolves]

Ok SPN fans and Dean and Stiles and Arthur girlies (gn) and Sherlock and Supergirl and MCU ppl

y'all other fandom ppl who are cheering for us cause

one of our blorbos is canonically bi now

🩷💜💙

How about helping us keep the ratings up for next ep?

(as a bonus you'll probably get men kissing and possibly one of our blorbos coming out to the other)

There is definitely hate and anger out there and ppl will stop watching

And while Oliver (bi Buck's actor) clearly doesn't give a fuck

How beautiful would it be if the ratings go even higher after this revelation???

We could show the execs and haters that queer stories like this are worth it to be included

Cause they also made it quite clear that the actual endgame could be Buddie

But what if they're testing the waters with this now?

So let's show them that we deserve to tell and watch queer stories

and write a little of fandom and TV history

Pls, if you have time and spoons and motivation, put on

911 on abc

next Thursday, 11th April

at 8pm EST

Here,

Have Buck being kissed by a man for the first time in his life as a motivation

#911 abc #supernatural #dean winchester #stiles stilinski #arthur pendragon #evan buckley #Teen wolf #bbc sherlock #supergirl #Marvel #legacies cw #Merlin #stucky #Idk what all to tag and if they'll even show up in the search #But here you go #Buddie #destiel

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Mateless Mate (Part 2)

Summary: Three months after getting together, the reader experiences Dean’s rut for the first time and the reader gets an introduction to Dean’s family...

Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x human!reader

Word Count: 1,700ish

Warnings: language, smut, rut toy, little bit of angst

______

“Howdy there, Dean,” you said, letting yourself into his apartment after work one Thursday. You’d been dating for about three months and while it took some getting used to on your end that Dean knew you were the one for him, he very much wanted to go slow for you and let you decide what you wanted on your own. 

“Y/N,” said Dean, slowly coming out of his bedroom. “Can you uh, maybe, stay away the next few days?”

“Why?” you asked, Dean holding himself against the wall, taking a deep breath and licking his lips. “Is this you having a rut?”

“It’s the start of one,” he said. “I need...you need to go hang out in your apartment the next three days. Better yet, go stay over your parents or brother’s place. It’ll be easier that way.”

“Can I do anything to help?” you asked. He shook his head and you frowned. “Dean, you promised that I could help you with things an Omega normally would.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to hurt you. An Omega is designed to be able to take an Alpha’s rut and they still end up with a few bruises. You? You I might break a freaking bone and I’m not risking that. I won’t...I won’t be able to have as much control as when we have sex and I’m not hurting you. I’m just not.”

“I know, Dean,” you said, carefully walking over towards him. He stared but didn’t stop you as got close and rested your hands on his hips. “If I really am your true mate-”

“You are,” he said, closing his eyes.

“If I’m your true mate, don’t you think your mate is supposed to help you through your rut then?” you asked. He sighed and threw his head back. “How would you get through a rut when you were single?”

“Medicine. A rut toy. This one feels different though. I know it’s because my body feels claimed and if it knows you’re nearby, it’s gonna want you,” he said.

“Let’s give it what it wants then. Safely. Okay?”

“How-”

“Take your medicine and then go dig out that rut toy. I have an idea.”

“Fuck,” groaned Dean two hours later, sweat dripping off of him as his rut fully hit him. He rolled over to his side and you moved with him, Dean’s eyes shutting as he breathed hard.

“Rest Alpha,” you said, squeezing your thighs together. The toy nestled between them gripped Dean’s cock harder, a nice little sleeve that easily took his knot and let his body soak in the feelings it needed. 

“Not a bad thing to try,” he said, opening his eyes. He panted but you saw that look in his eyes still. 

“It helps but it’s not enough,” you said.

“I can manage this way,” he said.

“You’re pretty spent. Maybe...when this knot goes down we can try-”

“No.”

“You weren’t so keen on sex at first either but you were wrong about how gentle you could be. Maybe you’re wrong about this,” you said.

“It’s a rut. It’s different,” he said. “We’ll do this again, sweetheart. It’s fine.”

Ten minutes later you were in his bathroom, washing out the toy again, Dean sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. While you were drying it off, you looked in on him, Dean fisting your shirt in his hands. He needed you, not an imitation, even a pretty decent one. 

You left the toy on the counter and walked out, straddling Dean’s lap while he swallowed.

“If it’s too much, I’ll tell you,” you said, running your hand through his sweaty strands. “Take what you need Alpha.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Let me do this for you.”

“Thank you,” he said, closing his eyes, pulling you closer. “I’ll do my best to take this easy.”

Two Days Later

You stretched as you got out of the shower and started to get ready for the day. You were meeting Dean’s family for the first time, at their yearly barbeque baseball game. He originally had planned on skipping because of his rut but he said it’d passed and if you were up for it, he’d happily have you join him.

With a hum you went to your closet and changed into some denim shorts and a flowy summer tank top. There were a few bruises on your hips from Dean’s rut but they were hidden from view. After having a quick snack and tugging on your sneakers, you left the apartment, Dean just exiting his with a tray of food in his hand and a cooler in the other.

“How you feeling?” you asked, Dean pecking a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m all good. Ready to head out?”

“Sure thing.”

You went downstairs together, getting in his car and driving for about twenty minutes before you got to a park that had been rented out for the day. He got the cooler while you handled the food, quite a few people already there.

“Where you been?” asked Sam as you both set down the items along with the rest of the food. 

“What do you mean? We’re early,” said Dean as you got a hug from Jess.

“You’re forty five minutes late dude,” laughed Sam.

“I thought mom said noon,” said Dean.

“Noon for the game. It doesn’t matter. It never starts on time anyways,” said Sam. “I thought you guys were ditching.”

“Rut wasn’t as long as normal,” said Dean.

“Being mated does that,” said Sam. “I see Y/N hasn’t wised up yet and run off on you so must have gone okay.”

“It took us a little bit to figure out what works best given our situation but I think we found a good solution for Dean,” you said. You noticed an older Alpha wander by, his nose wrinkling as he took out a beer from a nearby cooler. 

“Hey dad,” said Dean, the man standing up straight and turning towards the group of you. “I want to introduce you to somebody. This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is my dad.”

“Nice to meet you John,” you said. He looked you up and down, his nose twitching again.

“Nice to meet you too. Dean says you’re his true mate. Yet you don’t have a mark,” he said. “I would have expected that by now.”

“We’re gonna go figure out teams,” said Sam, he and Jess getting out of there. Dean stared at his dad, his father giving it right back.

“Obviously you know she’s human with the way your nose is going,” said Dean.

“You said true mate so I assumed Omega,” said John.

“She is my mate. Y/N doesn’t have a dynamic is all,” said Dean. You could see John wasn’t understanding and Dean was starting to get fed up. “Forget about it, dad. Come on, Y/N. Let’s go get on a team for the game.”

He grabbed your hand and started to walk away towards the field, glancing back over his shoulder once.

“I’m sorry about him,” said Dean. “I’ve told them before you’re human. I guess they just assumed.”

“It’s alright, Dean. I get it a lot,” you said, squeezing his hand. “Don’t let it bother you. I think he was surprised was all.”

“Yeah. I suppose. Hopefully my mom doesn’t react like that though.”

“Dean, it’s fine. Let’s enjoy the party, alright?”

“Okay. Besides, I’ve been dying to see how good at baseball you are.”

Four Hours Later

“Dean,” you said as he silently walked down the hall towards his apartment. “Dean.”

“I just...I can’t believe my mom would act like that. You’re not a different species. She was freaking the fuck out over nothing,” he said. He opened the door and stepped inside, you carefully following after. “Your family doesn’t act like that.”

“My dad knows a lot about dynamics and even he was surprised to find out about our bond. Give them a chance to come around to it,” you said. “It’s not a common situation. We’ve had to ease into it. Maybe we should ease them into it too.”

“If they’re gonna act weird, I don’t want you hanging around them. So what if I haven’t claimed you? I’m not gonna bite your neck. There’s no point to it. I know how I feel. I don’t need them to tell me what’s supposed to happen. I know what I’m supposed to do and that’s take care of my mate.”

There was a warm cozy feeling in your chest for a brief moment, Dean turning his head and staring at you.

“You’re feeling something, aren’t you,” he said. “I can tell.”

“Just...happy. Home I guess,” you said, Dean smiling softly. “What is that?”

“It’s what I felt when I met you. It’s our bond,” he said.

“Oh. It’s actually really nice,” you said, the feeling subsiding.

“It’s not an all the time thing but you know it’s there. You can feel it if you stop and think about it. I wasn’t sure if you actually could feel anything,” he said.

“I’m glad I can. I think something clicked for me, knowing that you’ll never care I’m not Omega,” you said.

“I don’t. I like you, strictly human and all,” he said.

“I like my Alpha too,” you said. He grinned and you gave him a kiss. “Don’t worry about your family. It’ll work out in the end, Dean. I promise.”

“I hope so too, sweetheart.”

_______

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #alpha!dean x reader #abo #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

[ao719]

Vancross

Vancross - As Long As There’s You At My Side (Chapter 19)

Most of the characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: A group of friends embark on their final year at Vancross Institute with the hopes of making it their best year yet. When a new face with a complicated family plagued by secrets and rumors arrives on campus, new friendships are formed, a new relationship blossoms, and threatening challenges arise.  

Title inspiration: Golden - Scars On 45

Main Pairing: Liam x F!OC

A/N: Multiple crossover series. There will be random sprinkles of canon throughout this story, but for the most part, it’s pretty much out the window. Not beta’d. Please excuse any errors.

Rating: M • Warnings: This series will contain nsfw material, language, some alcohol and drug use, and is not suitable for minors. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+

Catch up here

Leaning back against his headboard on a Friday afternoon, Liam typed away on his laptop, finishing up the last couple of paragraphs of a paper he had due for one of his classes. His eyes flickered up from the screen and he smiled when they fell on Croía; she was lying horizontally across his bed with one of his legs draped over the backs of her knees as she, too, worked on a paper for another class. 

It had been a month since Vancross closed its campus to students and they started virtual classes. Hour-long meetings with the professors from each of their classes were held Monday through Thursday, leaving them with three-day weekends to work on assignments and study for exams while the investigation into the attack remained ongoing. From what they were told through weekly updates from the Dean, they still had no evidence as to who was behind it. 

Liam wasn’t sure how to feel about the situation. On one hand, it was nice being home and with his family which he typically wouldn’t see much of during the school year. On the other hand, it was his final year, one they were midway through, and he didn’t know if he’d ever be returning. He was thankful, however, that Croía chose to stay with him in Cordonia. 

When they learned that the campus would be closing, Constantine and Eleanor didn’t hesitate to invite Croía to stay, and she didn’t hesitate when she accepted the offer. A week later, Blaine and Alia arrived in Cordonia after the same offer was extended to them. The four of them were staying in Liam’s wing, working on assignments and studying together along with Rashad and Olivia, who would come from their duchies a couple times a week. 

Liam knew his mother was trying to make their time away from campus feel as close to normal as she could. 

After finishing the last of his paper, Liam closed his laptop and set it on the bed before moving next to Croía. “How is yours coming along?” he asked before dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

“Done,” Croía smiled as she scanned over the document. “Just looking it over.”    

“Do you have anything else to work on?”

“I have to study for my IRT exam.”

“Good ol’ International Relations Theory.”

Croía looked at him. “How did you manage to get out of taking that class anyway?”

“Because I took it last year,” Liam chuckled. “I got put in it by some glitch in the system and they were going to take me out, but I asked my advisor if I could just get it over with, and he said it was fine as long as I thought I could handle it with my other classes.” 

“And … how’d you do?”

“Aced it, of course,” Liam smiled.

Croía playfully rolled her eyes with a good-natured grin. “Overachiever.” 

“Think of it this way … that means that I’m the perfect person to help you study.”

“Oh?” Croía chuckled. 

“Mmhmm,” Liam nodded as he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. He felt her smile before parting her lips, allowing his tongue to find hers. 

As the kiss deepened, Liam lifted his hand, closing her laptop and pushing it off to the side; he rolled to his back and pulled her over until she was straddling him. He combed her hair back from her face, becoming more consumed in the kiss with each slow curl of her tongue against his. With his legs dangling off the edge of the bed, he sat up; one hand dropped and splayed against her back to press her body flush against his own as he wrapped her long hair around his other. He gave a gentle tug, causing her to break the kiss as her head tilted back before his lips found her neck.

Over the past month, Liam found himself lost in Croía any free moment they had. He couldn’t get enough. Since that first night in the safe house, she couldn’t seem to get enough either. He’d always found her innocence and shy-by-nature personality endearing, but he also loved watching this more sensual side of her unfurl and come alive. Each time was more perfervid than the one before as she became more attuned with not only this never-explored side of herself but him as well. And while she was still the same kind-hearted, sweet, and coy woman he first met, the confidence that this newfound side gave her was, if he was being honest, sexy as hell and a turn-on all by itself. 

Just as Liam’s hands slid up underneath Croía’s shirt, planning to pull it off of her, a knock sounded on his bedroom door. He paused his movements, slowly lifting his head as she looked at him. 

“Li?” Blaine called out on the other side of the door. “Your dad is downstairs.” 

Liam dropped his head back with a sigh. “Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.” He looked back at her, smiling ruefully. “Sorry.” 

“It’s ok,” Croía chuckled as she maneuvered off his lap. 

Liam stared at her longingly as she adjusted her clothes back into place and he let out a grumble as he flopped back and rolled to his stomach, burying his face in his arms. “I need you to describe to me, in detail, Rocky Mountain oysters.” 

A laugh escaped Croía as she walked by the bed. “I’ll give you a second.” She opened the bedroom door and stepped out, closing it behind her as she met Blaine. “He’s coming.” 

Blaine flashed a knowing smirk having heard Liam grumble a moment before. “Not the way he wants to be, I’m guessing?” He let out a rumble of laughter when her cheeks flushed as she walked past him. 

Croía headed downstairs, and when she reached the bottom, Constantine was waiting near the door, smiling. “Hello, Croía,” he nodded.

“Hello, sir,” Croía smiled in return, then waved to Eleanor who stood behind him. 

A few moments later, Liam appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Hello,” he greeted his father. “Everything ok?”

“Yes,” Constantine nodded. “I was stopping by to see if you were busy.”

“Not at the moment,” Liam replied. “I just finished up a paper. Why, what’s up?”

“I have a meeting I need to attend with Landon regarding trading coming into Portavira’s entrepôt that I thought would be good for you to sit in on.” 

“Oh … yeah, sure,” Liam nodded. 

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Constantine said. 

Eleanor stepped forward. “Croía, I have some preparation planning for the Peace Summit to do and wondered if you might like to join me?” she smiled. “Please don’t feel like you have to say yes, I just thought I’d extend the offer while Constantine stole Liam away.” 

“Sure,” Croía smiled. She’d heard the summit mentioned a few times in the time she’d been there and, truthfully, she found herself a tad curious about it. 

“You’re not busy with any classwork?” Eleanor asked.

“No, ma’am,” Croía shook her head. “I have an exam I was going to study for, but Liam was going to help me, so I’d be waiting until he finished up anyway.” 

Eleanor smiled. “As long as you’re sure … and you want to. Again, please don’t feel like you have to.” 

“I’m sure,” Croía smiled. 

“Alia and I will hold down the fort while you’re gone,” Blaine said from the top of the stairs where he leaned against the railing.

Liam glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head with a knowing smile before looking back at his parents. “We’re ready when you are,” he said as he gestured toward the door. He slipped his hand into Croía’s as they followed him into the hall. 

Constantine and Eleanor fell into step on either side of the pair as they walked down the corridor; while Liam talked quietly with his father about the meeting, Eleanor looked at Croía. “It’s nothing arduous that we’re going to be doing,” she said. “Just going over the current guest list from those that have responded and some plans for the event.” 

“Well … full disclosure,” Croía began, “I haven’t … I mean, I’ve never helped with anything like this before,” she smiled sheepishly. “So, if I get in your way, feel free to tell me.” 

Eleanor smiled and patted her shoulder. “You’ll be fine.” 

When they came to a split in the corridor, Liam slowed his steps as his father turned one way and his mother the other, both pausing to wait. He looked down at Croía and smiled. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“I won’t keep her away from you for too long,” Eleanor said. “Promise.” 

Liam kissed Croía’s cheek before turning and heading down the corridor with his father toward the King’s study while Croía joined Eleanor on the walk to hers. 

****

Sitting inside the Queen’s study, Croía flipped through a list of names. “They’re broken down by country and kingdom,” Eleanor explained. “It’s just easier to keep track that way, and then, when the time comes for the seating arrangements, we can keep them all together.”

“It looks like you’ll have a decent turnout,” Croía noted as she looked at the list. 

“Yes,” Eleanor smiled. “It’s the first time we’ve held a Peace Summit here, so I’m glad we’ve gotten such a good response so far.” 

Members of royalty from various kingdoms such as Monterisso, Pavedena, Naporvie, Ulmeria, Monterre, and Ismar, to name a few, were all planning to attend as well as members of government from Ardona, Rutherland, Esherstein, Ithanstan, and Drivosa. 

The families of all of her and Liam’s friends, Croía noticed, and their friends were all on the list to attend alongside them. 

There was one country and kingdom noticeably not included. 

“Did … did you extend an invite to Drakovia?” Croía asked, immediately wishing she hadn’t as soon as the words left her mouth.

“We did,” Eleanor answered. “We haven’t heard back from them yet. But there’s still time.” 

“No offense, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” 

Eleanor looked at her, smiling sadly; she’d heard the same thing from Trystan. “We’ve extended invites to them in the past for various events, but they don’t usually respond. So, while I know they’re likely not to attend, I hope they do.” 

It was the truth. Eleanor did hope the King and Queen of Drakovia would attend, but not for the reasons Croía probably thought. The attendance of the Drakovian monarchs could bring a different kind of peace. And at the thought, a pang of guilt shot through the Cordonian Queen, knowing both her words and motives were deceptive, but just as they were trying to protect Liam, they wanted to protect Croía as well. 

“Have you spoken to your parents?” Eleanor asked as casually as she could.

“Oh, uh … no,” Croía answered. She let out a breath and dropped her gaze back to the list in her hands. “I’ve called a couple of times, but I … I haven’t heard anything back. I’m sure they’re busy.”

Eleanor stared at her; she’d heard Croía make that same excuse before as to why she hadn’t been in contact with her parents. She knew she didn’t believe her own words, able to hear the disappointment and hurt in the lie even though she tried to mask it. She’d heard from Liam how Croía was treated, but heard even more unsettling details about it from Trystan. And her heart broke for the young woman sitting before her, the one who still held onto hope that her family would someday show her love and affection despite being made to believe all her life that she was nothing to them … the same young woman who had become an integral and special part of her son’s life, and because of that, her own. She’d taken a liking to Croía, more so over the last month and seeing firsthand how happy she made Liam. Perhaps it was her natural motherly instinct, but she wanted to protect Croía from all of the same things she wanted to protect her own children from. And she wanted to help her, to see her thrive and succeed; it was part of the reason she’d asked if she wanted to join her that afternoon. 

Eleanor knew Croía didn’t have the experience that others in her position typically would, and not all of those kinds of lessons could be learned from a class or a book. And while guest lists and event planning were the more frivolous sides of her role, Eleanor had a few reasons for spending this time with Croía; she had a purpose for it all. 

“Well, why don’t we see how many from each country and kingdom are coming so far,” Eleanor said, changing the subject. She smiled as she sat next to her on the small sofa. “That way, we can start to figure out how we’re going to do the seating.” 

****

That evening, Constantine and Eleanor sat inside the King’s study, unwinding from their day with drinks. When Constantine’s phone rang, he stood from the sofa and walked to his desk, lifting the receiver to his ear. “Yes?”

“Hello, Constantine,” Trystan greeted him.

“Trystan,” Constantine said as he glanced over his shoulder at his wife; she rose from the sofa and came beside him as he put the call on speaker. “How are you?”

“I’m well. I hope you and Eleanor are the same.”

“We’re good,” Eleanor answered, letting him know she was there. 

“I’m here with Cameron,” Trystan said. “We just wanted to give you a little update.”

Constantine and Eleanor shared a look. “We’re listening.” 

“It’s not much of an update,” Cameron chimed in. “We’re still looking for the proof we need. We just need some more time to find that smoking gun.” 

“What we’ve found so far is better than nothing,” Eleanor replied. “It has to lead somewhere.” 

“Unfortunately, these people are very good at keeping things hidden,” Cameron said.

“I can imagine, considering they’ve flown under the radar for as long as they have,” Constantine scoffed. “But at least we’re getting somewhere.” 

In the time since they started their undercover investigation, the Cordonian monarchs along with Trystan and Cameron had uncovered more than they bargained for with the help of Damien and his Interpol connection. They’d come to learn that things were far more complicated and complex than they initially thought. And despite how much they’d found — and because of it — they needed more. What they had was only enough to drum up more suspicion and speculation. Both the delicacy and complexity of the situation called for more conclusive evidence because they couldn’t take any chances or risk any slip-ups based on technicalities. They needed a surefire smoking gun before they could make any moves, and they had yet to find it. 

“How’s Croía?” Trystan asked.

“She’s doing good,” Eleanor answered. “She was with me earlier, actually, helping me with some things regarding the Peace Summit.” 

“Taking her under your wing, are you?” Trystan quipped. 

Eleanor chuckled. “I simply extended the offer to keep her occupied while Constantine had Liam sit in on a meeting with him.” 

“She likes to learn, but was never given the chance back home,” Trystan said. “So I’m glad she’s got you there.”  

“Speaking of the summit,” Eleanor began. “Are you still  aiming to have enough evidence by then?” 

“Yes,” Cameron answered. “Damien still thinks it would be easier to have Interpol be there than it would be for them to get into Drakovia. I’m hoping we’ll have what we need, and that’s the goal, but I don’t want to make any promises.”

“And I still wouldn’t put too much faith in them attending,” Trystan interjected. “I know Damien thinks that’ll be the easiest way, but it’d be a damn miracle if they accepted. And if they do, be on alert because it wouldn’t be because they’re actually looking for peace. If they accept, they’ll have an ulterior motive for doing so.” 

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Constantine replied. 

“And Liam and Croía … they still don’t know anything about it?” Trystan asked.

“No,” Eleanor and Constantine answered in unison. 

“We’ve only been giving them the updates from the Dean and the University’s investigation, not our own,” Constantine added. He shared a look with his wife. “We’ll tell them when we need to …”

****

After having dinner with Blaine and Alia, Liam and Croía headed up to his room while the other two decided to venture down into the capitol in search of dessert. They’d offered for them to tag along, but Liam knew they hadn’t spent much time alone since their arrival in Cordonia; he’d told Blaine about one of his favorite local spots to take her. 

Croía sat on the bed and let out a breath, glancing at Liam when he sat down beside her. “How did that meeting with your dad go?”

“Fine,” Liam shrugged. “Just some trade stuff he wanted me to overhear.” He glanced over at her with a chuckle. “How was planning with my mom?” 

“It was fine,” Croía smiled. “Everyone is coming to that summit. Alia and her parents and sister. Blaine and his parents. Kennedy and her mom. Dionne and her parents. Peter and his parents and brother … to name a few.”

“Yeah, I knew Blaine and Alia were coming, only because they told me,” Liam said. “I figured the others would more than likely tag along … or be dragged along,” he chuckled. 

“I noticed Drakovia wasn’t on the list,” Croía said. “I asked your mom about it … she said they invited them, but in a surprising turn of events, they haven’t heard back,” she quipped. 

Liam shifted to sit in front of her. “Maybe they’ll come.” He knew they wouldn’t.

“Doubtful,” Croía replied. Liam smiled sadly before lifting a hand to her cheek; he drew her to him and pressed his lips to hers as his other hand settled on her waist. Before they could get too lost in the moment, she gently broke the kiss. “I have to study for my IRT exam.”

“You have all weekend,” Liam whispered. 

Croía chuckled as he kissed her again. “I need to get some studying done tonight. And you said you’d help me.” 

“I will help,” Liam said as he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip before kissing her once more. 

“I think we have two different definitions of help at the moment.”

A rumble of impish laughter escaped Liam as he drew back to meet her gaze. “Ok, I’ll help you study. But how about we make it a little more … interesting?”

Croía couldn’t help but chuckle at the mischievous smile he wore. “How so?” 

“I’ll quiz you …” Liam smirked, leaning forward and pressing another lingering kiss to her lips. “And reward you for every right answer you get.” 

Arching a curious brow, Croía smiled. “Reward me how?”

“Guess you’ll have to agree to play to find out.”

“Ok,” Croía laughed. She reached for her book on the nightstand, but he stopped her. “The questions are in the book.”

Liam tapped a finger to his temple. “It’s all up here.” He grinned when she laughed, then kissed her again as he guided her back on the bed, stopping once he was hovering over her. “First question,” he murmured against her lips. “Which theoretical perspective views globalization as a new form of imperialism?”

Croía smiled. “Neo-Marxism.”

“Good,” Liam said before finding her lips again; he kissed her slow and deep, curling his tongue against hers before shifting a moment later, kissing along her jaw to her ear. “Next question,” he whispered. “Globalization is most associated with which theory of world politics?”

“Liberalism.” 

“Uh-huh,” Liam hummed as his lips lingered on her neck. He slipped his hand beneath the hem of her shirt and pushed it up, revealing her lace-covered chest; he gently dragged his hand from her neck down between the valley of her breasts and his lips followed their path before shifting off course and trailing over the swell, stopping when they met the seam of fabric. “What is the economic theory and ideology that serves as the backdrop to what is commonly referred to as globalization?” 

Croía shuddered as his lips brushed over her covered peak, feeling his warm breath through the thin lace; her thoughts jumbled when the tip of his finger dipped beneath the scalloped seam and began to pull it down. “Neo-stru—” He paused, arching a brow as his gaze flickered to hers, and she shook her head. “Neoliberalism.” 

A wolfish smirk curled on Liam’s lips as he slid the rest of the fabric out of his way and lowered his mouth down to her pebbled nipple; he slowly swirled his tongue before pulling away and blowing a stream of cold air against her, drawing out a soft gasp. “Name two contributing factors to global integration,” he murmured against her as his lips moved to her stomach. 

“Transportation and Communication …”

“Mmhm,” Liam hummed, continuing his slow descent as his hand slid up to caress her. 

“And European Colonization.”

“Very good.” Liam shifted himself lower, placing a kiss just below her navel; his hands slowly pushed up the hem of her pleated knit tennis skirt before he hooked a strong arm around one of her thighs and draped it across her hips. “What is the type of exchange rate that is based on its expected value in the international market and is considered to be self-correcting?”

Croía bit her lip, fixated on him as his lips made a path along her inner thigh, all while holding her gaze. “It’s … it’s fixed—” He paused, and she swallowed thickly. “Floating. Floating exchange rate.”

“Nice save.” Liam ghosted his lips over the thin piece of lace that covered her and he smirked when just that light touch drew a soft yet needy whimper from her. “Name one revolutionary approach to International Relations.”

When he placed another teasing kiss over the lace, Croía’s eyes fell shut as a tingle shot up her spine; she instinctively tried to arch her hips for more but was stopped by his arm holding her in place. “F-Focus on — focus on North — North and South relations,” she stuttered through a breath.

Liam chuckled, dragging a finger along the seam. “I think I might prefer to focus on the south right now,” he said before he pulled the lace aside and dropped his mouth down on her. 

When she felt his velvet tongue swirl against her, Croía’s lips parted with a moan as her hand slid into his hair. 

*******

A couple of days later, Liam, Croía, Blaine, and Alia sat in the living room of the south wing, all working on assignments and studying for upcoming exams. 

“I wonder how much of this shit I’m actually going to use in the real world,” Blaine scoffed. 

Liam chuckled just as the door to his wing flew open; they all glanced over as Leo strode into view. “Hello,” he grinned. He walked further inside and sat beside Croía on the sofa, slinging an arm over her shoulders. “Hi, Cocoa Bean.”

Liam shook his head as the others laughed, including Croía.

One night while they all hung out in the game room, Leo had caught a glimpse of Liam’s phone, seeing Croía listed in his contacts under ‘Cocoa’. He’d laughed himself hoarse, despite there being a story behind the nickname, one Liam tried to explain. Leo ignored him and the story entirely and had been calling her Cocoa Bean for the last few weeks anytime he saw her. She didn’t seem to mind, however, so neither did Liam. 

“What are you up to?” Liam asked. 

“I want to go golfing,” Leo said, “but I have no one to go with. So I thought you all might like to join me.” 

Blaine threw his book down. “I’m in.”

Liam’s brows furrowed. “I thought you hated golf?”

“I don’t hate it, but it’s not my favorite thing either,” Blaine replied. “But I’ll do anything to get away from this shit for a while,” he said, gesturing toward the book and his laptop.  

“I’m game,” Alia said.

Liam and Croía shared a look, both shrugging. “Ok.”

****

A while later, after changing into appropriate attire while Leo filled a cooler with beers and White Claws, the five of them headed out to Cormery Isle’s golf course. 

They laughed and joked as they made their way through the course, all in much need of the little reprieve.

Liam, Croía, and Leo pulled up in a golf cart to where their balls landed on the seventh hole; Blaine and Alia pulled up in a second cart behind them. 

After taking their shots, Leo, Blaine, and Croía sat on one of the carts after grabbing a drink from the cooler, waiting while Liam and Alia made their shots. 

Leo glanced back at Blaine from the driver’s seat, chuckling. “Remember last year when we were shotgunning beers for every shot we took?” 

Blaine snorted, nodding before he tipped his head back to take a sip of his beer. “And we were all shitfaced drunk by the time we got back to the palace and your mom made us all her infamous hangover remedy.” 

“I swear, her spiced apple tea hangover cure is fucking gold,” Leo said. “They’ve made me functional for so many events.” 

“What’s a shotgun?” Croía asked.

Leo’s brows rose in surprise and he glanced over at her in the passenger seat. “Cocoa Bean! You’ve never done a shotgun?”

“No,” Croía chuckled, shaking her head.

“Oh, we’ll need to fix that,” Leo said. “Blaine, grab me a drink.”  

Blaine reached back, grabbed a can of White Claw from the cooler, and handed it to Leo. “So, the first thing you’re gonna do is make a hole down here,” he said as he tapped his finger near the bottom of the can. He grabbed the pen they were keeping score with and carefully poked through the can, maneuvering it around. “Ok,” Leo said as he finished making the hole wide enough; Blaine leaned forward from the backseat of the cart to both inspect and watch. “Take this, put your thumb over the hole, and position your other hand so you can open the tab.” He handed her the can, and she did as instructed. “Good. Ok, now, put your mouth there,” he pointed to the hole, and she leaned forward and replaced her thumb with her mouth. “Now open it and then suck.” 

“Tilt it slightly,” Blaine added.

Croía tilted the can slightly as her nail flipped up the tab, but she was met with a rush of unexpected carbonation, causing her to cough into the can. 

Suddenly, the liquid shot out from the opening, spraying Leo directly in the face.

Croía slowly looked over at Leo with wide eyes as what little she managed to get into her mouth dribbled out; liquid and foam dripped from his face.

In the back seat, Blaine let out a loud bark of laughter as he threw his head back. When he heard her wheeze, he looked at Croía and started to laugh even harder at seeing how hard she was now laughing; her face was bright red and her hand covered her mouth, which was open in shock as her body shook. 

When Croía took a breath, she squealed out a laugh as her foot kicked the panel under the seat and she doubled forward. Both the sight and sound sent Blaine over the edge; he tipped sideways, rolling out of the cart into the grass as he clutched his stomach. 

Alia and Liam approached after taking their shots, and Alia started to laugh just at the sight of Blaine rolling around on the ground. 

“What the hell happened?” Liam asked, seeing a substance dripping from his brother’s face; he wore a grin despite whatever just occurred. 

A loud guffaw erupted from Blaine as he started to try and tell them the story; he rolled to his side with a wheeze as he slapped the ground, unable to continue. 

“I was trying to teach Cocoa Bean how to do a shotgun,” Leo began to explain through a laugh of his own as he wiped his face down with his golf towel. “But I somehow managed to get a face full of White Claw instead.”

Alia couldn’t contain her laughter at the imagery.

“I-I’m sorry … I-I got a …” Croía trailed off, unable to speak as another shriek of laughter bubbled out of her. 

Liam looked at her and he couldn’t help but chuckle as she gripped his arm; tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as the melodious sound of her contagious laughter filled the air. He’d seen her laugh plenty of times, but never that hard … and he never wanted to go another day without seeing or hearing it again, without seeing her so utterly happy and carefree.

“Holy fuck,” Blaine chortled. He slowly rolled onto all fours, trying to catch his breath. “My abs hurt. That …” He trailed off, snorting. “That was the funniest fucking thing. His face …” He howled, dropping his head onto the ground between his arms as he continued to laugh. “Shit, Croía.” 

Leo gripped Croía’s shoulder. “We’ll need to work on your execution, Cocoa Bean,” he chuckled. 

*******

The following Friday, Liam, Croía, Blaine, and Alia sat in the living room of the south wing, watching a movie; they’d spent all week working on assignments, had gone out to the beer garden with Leo, Rashad, and Olivia the night before, and were taking that night to relax. 

Midway through the film, a knock sounded on the door; Liam paused the movie and shouted for them to come in. A moment later, Constantine and Eleanor appeared. “Sorry to interrupt,” Constantine smiled apologetically at the group as they all sat up.

“No worries,” Liam said. “What’s up?”

Constantine and Eleanor walked into the living area and took the two empty seats on either end of the sectional. “We just received a call from the Dean. Vancross is opening campus back up.” 

They all smiled. “When?” Blaine questioned. 

“One week,” Eleanor answered. “They’re giving you next week free of classes to allow you to get yourselves situated before returning.”

“So they finished the investigation?” Croía asked.

“They closed it,” Constantine said. “They couldn’t find any evidence pointing to who was behind the attack. Being that it’s been over a month, they didn’t have much of a choice. I’m sure they’ll still be looking into it, but they think it’s time for the students to return.” 

“Your parents are aware,” Eleanor said to Blaine and Alia. “They’re leaving it up to you whether or not you want to go right from here or go home for the week before returning.” 

The pair shared a look. “We should probably go see them before going back,” Alia said. “We won’t see them again until graduation.”

“Yeah,” Blaine nodded. 

As they began to discuss leaving the following morning, Croía took in Alia’s words. We won’t see them again until graduation. She hadn’t seen her mother since her impromptu visit, and she hadn’t seen her father since she left to attend Vancross. She hadn’t been home at all. They hadn’t tried to reach out to her and hadn’t returned any of her calls. And while a part of her knew it was foolish to even want to see them or to think they cared about seeing her, another part of her couldn’t let go of the notion that she had a home and family of her own. 

Alia and Blaine excused themselves to go call their parents and make their arrangements to leave, leaving Liam and Croía alone with Constantine and Eleanor. 

“I … I should go home, too,” Croía said. 

Liam furrowed his brows as he snapped his gaze in her direction. “What?” 

“Alia’s right,” Croía said quietly as she looked at him. “We won’t have another chance to go home again before graduation, and that’s a few months away. And I haven’t … I haven’t been home at all since school started.” She could see the wariness in his eyes. “I know I haven’t talked to them … but maybe I should try to see them.” 

Liam knew why she wanted to go — or rather, felt like she had to. She didn’t want to give up on believing that maybe one day they’d see her for more than the mistake they told her she was. She wanted their love and acceptance so badly that she was willing to risk her emotional well-being on the off chance she might get it. Every instinct inside him wanted to tell her not to go, to beg her not to go and to stay with him. He’d seen firsthand what being around just her mother did to her, and he didn’t want to see her fall back into that headspace she was so easily put in before. He didn’t want to see her hurt and defeated if this trip home didn’t go the way she hoped it would … and he was almost certain that’s what would happen. 

Liam let out a breath. “But Croía—”

“It’s just a week,” Croía interrupted, seeing more trepidation fill his expression as he stared at her. “And then we’ll be back at campus.” 

Constantine looked at his wife the same moment Eleanor looked at him; he recognized the question in her eyes. He knew she didn’t want Croía to go either and that look told him exactly what she was thinking: She doesn’t know what we know. But he subtly shook his head at her silent request. They couldn’t risk telling anyone, including Liam and Croía. Not yet.

“Are you sure, Croía?” Eleanor asked, hoping she might reconsider. 

“I’m sure,” Croía nodded with a halfhearted smile. “And while I’m there … maybe I can bring up the Peace Summit and gauge their interest in possibly attending.” 

“Well, how about I go with you,” Liam said. 

Constantine and Eleanor both stiffened at his words. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I think it might be best if I go by myself,” Croía said, much to his parents’ relief. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. 

Liam continued to stare at her. “When … when are you going to leave?” 

“Blaine and Alia seem to be leaving in the morning,” Croía noted. “So maybe sometime tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have to have Jonas call to have the jet prepared and sent.” 

“No need to call for the jet. You’re more than welcome to use ours,” Constantine offered, although his motives weren’t entirely selfless; he didn’t trust a Drakovian jet landing on Cordonian soil. 

Liam heaved a sigh as he finally dropped Croía’s gaze. He didn’t like the idea of her leaving. He didn’t like it at all. 

**** 

The movie night had been cut short so Blaine, Alia, and — much to Liam’s dismay — Croía could pack their bags. 

Liam sat on the edge of his bed, watching Croía stuff the final pieces of her clothing into her suitcase before zipping it shut. She set her bag over by the door and turned to face him; the look he gave her had her seriously contemplating her decision. 

When Croía approached him, she rested her hands on his shoulders, and Liam pulled her down so she was straddling his lap. He searched her icy blue eyes as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to go,” he said just above a whisper.

“I’ll be ok,” Croía said, not sure whether she was trying to convince him or herself. 

“Does Trystan know you’re going?”

“No,” Croía chuckled, knowing he was hoping her brother would change her mind. “I haven’t called to tell him, but I will.” He shook his head, dropping her gaze. “If I come back disappointed … it’s no one’s fault but my own.”

Liam looked at her again. “If that’s even a possibility, why go?” he asked. “Why risk making yourself feel like that?” 

“Because I … I just feel like I need to do this,” Croía replied. “For myself.” Liam sighed, dropping his head on her shoulder. “Listen …” She forced his gaze back to hers. “If this trip goes badly … I promise, it’ll be the last time I try.” 

“You won’t go back again?”

“No,” Croía shook her head. “I think this trip will tell me everything I need to know.” 

Liam chewed the inside of his cheek as his hold around her tightened. “I still don’t like the idea of you going … especially by yourself.” 

“I’ll be ok.” 

Knowing he wasn’t going to change her mind, Liam heaved a defeated sigh as he dropped his head on her shoulder. “I’ve gotten used to you being here with me,” he murmured. “I don’t want to wake up without you.” 

Croía chuckled. “It’s only a week.” 

“Too long.” Liam lifted his gaze back to hers, holding it for a moment before he closed the small space between them and pressed his lips to hers. 

When they parted, Croía rested her forehead against his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

Liam kissed her again, this time more ardently; he turned, laying her back on the bed, planning to make the most of that night. And she eagerly returned the kiss with the very same intention. 

*******

The following morning, Liam and Croía said their goodbyes to Blaine and Alia before they left, and that afternoon, they rode in silence and hand-in-hand in the back of an SUV to the airport for Croía’s flight. 

Anthony drove the pair with Jonas riding beside him in the passenger seat; knowing they were in cahoots, she had instructed her guard not to call Trystan, telling him she would do so herself. In the third row behind them sat Leo, who offered to tag along, knowing his brother might need a distraction on the way back. 

Liam tossed and turned all night, trying to come up with some way of changing Croía’s mind, but he fell short. Despite her assuring him she would be fine and that it would only be a week before she saw him again, he still couldn’t bring himself to get on board with the idea. He didn’t push, however, because he didn’t want her to think he was being overbearing. 

When the SUV pulled up to the tarmac alongside the waiting jet, the two guards exited the vehicle first; Anthony went to do a cursory check of the aircraft while Jonas grabbed Croía’s suitcase. 

When Liam’s guard reappeared a few moments later, giving the all-clear, Liam sighed as he opened the door and stepped out, turning to offer a hand to Croía; she said goodbye to Leo, who gave her a quick hug, before taking Liam’s hand and allowing him to help her out. 

The pair walked slowly toward the stairs; Jonas shook Anthony’s hand before stepping onto the jet while the latter headed back to the SUV, giving Liam and Croía some privacy. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Liam asked, forcing a small smile. 

“I’ll be fine,” Croía reiterated with a sad smile as she looked up at him. “Remember, it’s only a week.” 

Liam wrapped his arms around her as hers looped around his neck. “I know …” He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. 

“We’ll talk every day.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Croía assured him, and he kissed her again. 

Croía cupped his face in her hands. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips as he rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you, too.” 

After drawing back from another kiss, Croía stepped back, knowing she wouldn’t get on that jet if she lingered there any longer. “I’ll call you as soon as I land.” 

“I’ll be waiting.”

Liam watched her turn and head up the stairs; she gave him a wave and one last smile over her shoulder before disappearing into the cabin. He walked backward, watching Jonas secure the door, and when he reached the SUV, he leaned against it, waiting to see her take off. 

A moment later, Leo appeared beside him. “Relax. She’ll only be gone a week.”

Liam didn’t take his eyes off the jet as it turned toward the open airstrip. Yes, he knew it was only a week, but he had an odd feeling that he couldn’t seem to shake, one that grew in intensity as he watched the aircraft pick up speed down the runway before lifting into the air.

******* 

The following Thursday, Liam sat out on the balcony of his bedroom, eating breakfast as he scanned a newspaper. His eyes kept flickering to his phone, waiting for Croía’s morning call. 

As promised, Croía had called him twice a day every day since she left. They messaged each other throughout each day as well. 

That first night, when Liam asked how her return was received, all Croía said was, “as expected.” Each night since, she told him how her parents had been in closed-door meetings all day and she had yet to see either of them. That was until yesterday afternoon when she sent a message to tell him she was having dinner with them that evening; she said she would call him later to tell him how it went. 

Croía never called. 

Liam had sent a couple of messages to see if everything was ok and to ask how the dinner went, but he never got a response. 

As he looked at his phone again, Liam told himself not to panic, that she had probably just fallen asleep and wasn’t awake yet. He still couldn’t shake that odd feeling he had, though, and it was doing him no favors in staying optimistic. 

When his phone chimed with an incoming call, Liam threw the paper down and snatched his phone up; he let out a breath when he saw the name flash across the screen. “Hi,” he answered.

“Well, don’t you sound chipper this morning,” Blaine chuckled.

“Sorry,” Liam sighed. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be heading out tomorrow morning.” 

Blaine was flying back to Cordonia tomorrow so he and Liam could head back to Vancross together Saturday morning; they wanted to give themselves time to get resituated in their suite and relax before classes started up again on Monday. Rashad and Olivia were taking the Domavlliers jet but weren’t planning to return to campus until Sunday. 

“Is Alia coming too?” Liam asked.

“No,” Blaine answered. “She has an event she’s attending with her family tomorrow evening, so she’s just going to meet us back at Vancross Saturday morning.” 

“Ok …” 

“Are you alright?” Blaine asked.

“I’m just waiting for Croía to call.” 

“What’s wrong?”

Liam sighed. “She was supposed to call me last night but never did. And she hasn’t called or answered my messages this morning.”

“Calm down,” Blaine chuckled. “She’s probably still sleeping. Don’t get yourself all worked up over nothing.” 

“Right …” Liam drummed his fingers against the table. 

Something told him it wasn’t “nothing.” 

*******

The next afternoon, Liam sat inside the living area of his wing after he’d returned to the palace from picking Blaine up at the airport. Liam held his phone to his ear, listening to it ring and ring and ring before Croía’s voicemail picked up. He sighed, ending the call and tossing his phone on the table in front of him before running his hand down his face.

“Still nothing?” Blaine asked, and Liam shook his head. “Let me try.” He scrolled through his contacts before tapping his finger against Croía’s name. It rang … and rang and rang and rang … until her voicemail picked up. “Nothing …” 

“Has Alia heard from her?” Liam asked.

“She said the last time she talked to her was Wednesday.” 

“Same as me …” Liam let out a breath, running his hand through his hair. 

“We’ll keep trying,” Blaine said. 

****

That night, Liam tapped his foot anxiously against the carpeted floor of his bedroom as he tried calling Croía again. He still hadn’t heard back from her. When he reached her voicemail for the umpteenth time that day, he let out a frustrated breath as he rubbed his eyes, waiting for the cue to leave a message. When he heard the beep, he lifted his head.

“Croía … it’s me again. I’m really worried. I just want to know you’re ok. Please … please call me back.” 

Liam sighed as he dropped the phone away from his ear and ended the call. He thought about calling Trystan, but another part of him thought maybe he should wait. Like him, Blaine, and Alia, Croía was supposed to be returning to campus tomorrow and he didn’t want to worry her brother for no reason if there truly was an explanation as to why she hadn’t returned any of their calls or messages. He couldn’t figure out what the hell that explanation could be, but he was holding onto that small sliver of hope like a lifeline. 

*******

The following morning, Liam drummed his fingers across his thigh from his seat on the jet; through the clouds, he could see Vancross University’s campus as they flew overhead, headed for the airport. 

“Alia just landed and is headed back to campus now,” Blaine said, reading a message from her. Liam looked at him. “I told her we’re about five minutes behind her. She said she’ll let us know if Croía is there.” 

They had yet to hear anything from Croía; their calls were now going straight to voicemail, and messages were still left unanswered.

It had been three days since Liam last spoke to Croía and that odd feeling he had when she first left had now grown into full-on panic. When he said his goodbyes to his family that morning, his mother asked if he was ok, able to tell something was bothering him; he didn’t tell her what was going on because he didn’t have any answers to explain it. 

Liam’s only focus that morning was getting back to campus and seeing if Croía had arrived yet. 

****

When Liam and Blaine arrived back at their suite, they dropped their bags in their rooms and met back in the living area, both with their phones in hand. Liam tapped his finger against the screen on Croía’s name and put the phone to his ear; it went straight to voicemail again. 

Blaine could see the concern etched in his friend’s expression. “Maybe her phone broke or something.” 

Liam merely nodded at Blaine’s attempt to settle his nerves, but he didn’t believe it. Something was wrong. He could feel it. 

Suddenly, the door to their suite flung open and a frantic Alia rushed inside; she was out of breath, clearly having run from her building to theirs. 

Blaine turned toward her. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

“Croía’s stuff … it’s not there,” Alia breathed as she pressed a palm to her chest. 

Liam’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

“Her room is empty. All of her stuff … it’s gone.” 

The color drained from Liam’s face as his heart plummeted into his stomach. “No.” In the next moment, he was rushing out the door, and Blaine and Alia followed behind him. 

Liam ran along the campus path from his building towards the other. When he entered through the front doors, he bound up the steps two at a time until he came to the correct floor; he flew down the hall and pushed the door to the suite open, making a beeline for Croía’s room. 

When Liam stepped inside, he froze. Just as Alia had said, the room was empty save for the bare bed and the desk and chair. 

There was nothing but empty hangers in the closet. 

The drawers of the dresser were pulled open and bare. 

The books that once lined the built-in bookshelf were gone. 

The only thing that remained to show Croía had ever been there at all was the pictures still pinned to the corkboard above the desk she once occupied. A photo of their whole group together from a night they had a bonfire on the beach, several photos of her and Alia, her and Liam, and a few of the four of them together on the many nights they hung out. 

Liam looked around the empty room, blinking as if her stuff would suddenly reappear … along with her. His eyes fell on a crumpled article of clothing he spotted on the floor of the closet. He walked over and picked it up; when he held it in front of him, he saw the ‘Rys’ stitched across the top of the back. It was the mock jersey she had worn to his final polo match. He sat in the chair and leaned forward, burying his face in the shirt; the scent of vanilla and sandalwood still lingered in the fabric.

Fisting the shirt in his hands, a wave of worry, guilt, and anger washed over Liam. He didn’t trust the idea of her going home, but he didn’t try hard enough to convince her not to. He knew in his gut something was wrong when he didn’t hear from her, but he didn’t try to figure out what it was. 

Blaine took a tentative step toward his friend, seeing his hands start to shake. Suddenly, Liam stood, grabbing the chair by its back and hurling it across the room with a growl; the sound of it slamming against the wall caused Alia to yelp. 

Liam ran his fingers through his hair, lacing his trembling hands behind his head. The stress of the past few days had finally gotten the better of him. His chest was rising and falling heavily, his breaths shuddered and quick as he tried to wrap his mind around what the hell was happening. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know anything. 

Blaine approached him, resting a hand on his shoulder. After a few quiet moments, Alia broke the deafening silence. “What … what do you think happened?” Blaine glanced over his shoulder at hearing the worry laced in her words. 

Liam dropped his arms to his sides, looking around the room again as his jaw tensed. “I … I don’t know,” he said. He stormed out of the room, unable to stand inside the emptiness any longer, stopping once he was in the living area. He pulled his phone from his pocket and went to his contacts, tapping a name on the screen before lifting it to his ear.

“Liam?”

“Have you heard from Croía?” The question tumbled out of Liam, who didn’t care about a polite greeting at the moment.

“No …” Trystan paused for a moment. “She’s supposed to be returning to campus today.”

“Yeah, but she’s not here. I haven’t talked to her since Wednesday morning; she hasn’t answered any of my calls or messages. Any calls to her started going straight to voicemail this morning. We just got back to campus, and Alia found all of her stuff from their suite gone. Her room is completely empty, Trystan.” 

Trystan could hear the worry in his voice; his own anxiety spiked at what he’d just been told, but he hid it, trying to remain calm. “Let me try to call her phone for me. I’ll call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response before hanging up. 

Liam dropped his arm, gripping his phone tightly in his hand. The few seconds that went by felt like hours until his phone rang; he answered before it made half a ring. “Anything?”

“No … right to voicemail.” Trystan heard Liam let out an exasperated breath. “Listen, let me make some calls … see what I can find out. I’ll let you know as soon as I know something.”

*******

In the living area of his suite the following afternoon, Liam sat slumped on the sofa; his fist was pressed against his mouth as he stared off in a daze with his phone clutched tightly in his other hand. Blaine and Alia sat in silence across from him on the other end of the sectional. 

It had been over 24 hours since Liam had spoken to Trystan, and every minute that passed that he didn’t hear from him only caused both his concern and irritation to heighten. He’d tried calling and messaging Croía several more times after his conversation with Trystan but to no avail. He’d gotten a mere couple of hours of sleep last night, and that was only because he dozed off at the kitchen counter while waiting to hear from Trystan or Croía herself. Blaine found him at 2 a.m. when he exited his room to get a bottle of water; he was slumped on the stool with his head on his arms and his hand curled around his phone. He woke him up, telling him to go get some sleep, but when he entered his room, sleep was the last thing on his mind. 

When Liam’s phone chimed with an alert, his head snapped to the screen; he sank back with a heavy sigh at seeing the message from his mother, telling him she hoped they all got settled in ok and to enjoy his last day before starting classes back up tomorrow. He sent back a quick response before tossing his phone onto the table and laying back, covering his face with his hands. 

Blaine looked at him. “Who was—”

“My mom,” Liam interrupted. 

Alia and Blaine shared a look; Liam’s stress over the situation was palpable. Alia glanced back in Liam’s direction. “Why don’t we go get something to eat while we wait.” 

Liam dropped his hands away from his face and met their gazes; his expression was a silent declination. “Come on, Li,” Blaine sighed. “I’ve been with you since yesterday afternoon and you haven’t eaten anything. You’re not doing anyone any favors by starving your damn self.” 

“We don’t have to go far,” Alia said. “We can go to that Greek place right across the street from campus.”   

As Liam sat there and contemplated their suggestion, a knock came on the door of the suite; he sprung up and rushed over, flinging it open. 

Liam swallowed thickly when he saw none other than Trystan standing on the other side, and the look on his face immediately filled him with dread. 

***************************************

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#the royal romance #trr #choices the royal romance #choices trr #liam rys #prince liam rys #liam x oc #trr liam x oc #choices liam x oc #prince liam x oc #trr liam #trr fanfic #foreign affairs #choices foreign affairs #foreign affairs fanfic #blaine hayes #crimes of passion #choices crimes of passion #crimes of passion fanfic #trystan thorne #trystan x mc #cfwc fics of the week

[hotvintagepoll]

Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS bracket! we are currently voting on the HOTTEST and VINTAGEST male movie stars from 1910-1970. (we will do the ladies next.) Submissions for hot vintage men are now closed, but we are accepting propaganda for those already in the bracket.

Round 3 of the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament will be posted Saturday, January 20th, with some spillover to Sunday, and will last a week. All the round 3 polls can be found and voted on under the tag #round 3. All polls—including previous rounds, the now-finished shadow bracket of hot men who didn’t pass round 1, plus fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. Every poll in the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament is tagged with the hot man in it if you need to search for a hot man in particular.

Between rounds—so any point up to the night of Thursday the 18th—any propaganda for a round 3 contestant sent to my asks may be added to the poll descriptions. I accept video links, photos, and text propaganda, but not gifs at this stage (I can’t copy them into the posts without problems). Once rounds start, any propaganda sent in is posted as its own separate post, searchable under the hot man's tag.

FAQs:

"Where is [my favorite hot man]?" It depends. Have you checked all the polls in the tag? Have you done a tag search for him? If you still haven't found him, either nobody submitted him or he did not fit the criteria of being a movie man from 1910-1970.

"Can I still submit hot men?" No, the submission window has closed. Please do not send in men you wish had made it into the bracket. I can't do anything with those asks and they just make me sad.

"I have hot women to submit!" Amazing! I've posted the submission form for that bracket. Asks submitting ladies don't count—you need to wait until the submission form. DO NOT tag me in hot lady propaganda yet! Do not send any to my asks! Anything that's not put in the submission form doesn't count at this stage.

"I have additional propaganda for the hot men!" Great! Send me an ask or reblog the poll and add your propaganda to it. I don't boost all the propaganda I see or receive, but I try to boost the best of the best.

If you're submitting propaganda for your hot man, I don't accept propaganda that's from beyond the end of this tournament's era (ie don't send me pics of them in the 70s onwards). I also don't accept them performing in TV shows unless it's clearly a cameo where they're playing themselves.

I don't post or boost negative propaganda about any hot man. If you really hate that a certain hot man is winning, send me positive propaganda for their hot opponent. If you think a hot man shouldn't even be included in the bracket because of scummy things they did in their lifetime, please read my take on it here.

If I see repetitive, trolling, and/or bigoted remarks in the comments, I may block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a hot man's flaws or misdemeanors, that's fine, but if I see consistent bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked.

"My FAQ isn't on here :(" send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

"WHERE ARE THE HOT MEN. I want to see all the hot men competing in one place!!" You can find all the round 1 matchups here (thank you @markwatnae!), and everyone who made it to round 3 below the cut. Thank you for being here! Enjoy the tournament.

Round 3 Hot Vintage Men:

Marlon Brando

Anthony Perkins

James Dean

Omar Sharif

James Shigeta

Sidney Poitier

Jeremy Brett

Cary Grant

Buster Keaton

Gregory Peck

Paul Robeson

Sessue Hayakawa

Michael Redgrave

Vincent Price

Gary Cooper

Conrad Veidt

Ronald Colman

Rock Hudson

Basil Rathbone

Laurence Olivier

Toshiro Mifune

Christopher Plummer

Harry Belafonte

Johnny Weismuller

James Stewart

Gene Kelly

Peter Falk

Clark Gable

Fernando Lamas

Errol Flynn

Tyrone Power

Humphrey Bogart

#round 3 #new masterpost! #housekeeping #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Fourteen

Warnings: flirting, insecurities.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

“Hey, Princess,” Dean said as he answered her call. They’d started to fall back to old ways, calling each other several times a day. Not that either of them minded much.

“Hey, Dean,” Y/N responded, trying to sound as happy as he did, but her words came out in a sigh.

“Uh oh, I know that tone. What’s wrong?” Concern laced Dean’s voice and made her guilt grow.

“About tonight…” Y/N sighed again, and Dean’s heart sank. “One of my nurses had to take a leave of absence, and I’m the only one who can cover her shift at short notice. I’m sorry, Dean. I was really looking forward to our date tonight.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I’ve been there myself a hundred times. I understand, and, hey, name another day and I’m there.”

“How about Thursday?” Y/N asked, sounding more upbeat than she had before.

“I can’t do Thursday. I’m on shift. How about Friday?” Dean replied.

“I’m doing a double shift Friday night. But I could do Sunday?”

“Can’t,” Dean huffed frustratedly. “It’s-”

“Family dinner on Sundays,” they said together and shared a laugh.

“Unless…” Dean continued, “you know you’d be more than welcome-”

“No!” Y/N panicked.

“Come on. We’re not that bad!” Dean chuckled. “Besides, you’ve already broken the ice by having them all in the same room when I was in the hospital.”

“Yeah, but that was on my turf, where I was in control and everyone was too worried about you to focus on me,” she explained.

“Okay, we can save family dinner for another time,” Dean laughed.

“Thank you,” she chuckled softly. “So, it looks like our date will have to wait until next week.”

“Well, sweetheart, they do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Dean said, and she didn’t need to be able to see him to know he was sporting that cocky grin she loved.

“So you’re saying you’ll be even more smitten with me by next week?” Y/N grinned when she heard Dean laugh.

“Are you flirting with me?” he teased.

“What? No! Okay… maybe a little,” she giggled, feeling the heat rise to her face and settle on her cheeks. “And don’t let that go to your head, Winchester!”

“The woman of my dreams is flirting with me! You’re damn right I’m gonna let that boost my ego!” The cockiness Dean had had always made her knees weak, and it seemed some things never changed.

“Okay, while you do that,” Y/N chuckled, “my break is almost over, and I gotta get back to work. So, how about next Tuesday for our date?”

“That works for me, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you before that, though, right? I don’t think I can go a whole week without at least speaking to you,” he said, the grin evident in his voice.

“Now who’s flirting?” she teased, and Dean laughed. “I’ll call you on Friday before I go to work.”

“Alright, talk to you Friday, but I’ll text you before then,” Dean smiled. “Have a good night, Princess.”

“Thanks, Dean. Stay safe on shift,” she replied.

“Always, Princess.”

Dean went to his brother’s house to work on the nursery. Sam had asked for his help at the weekend, and Dean happily agreed to work on it whenever he had free time. He’d been there yesterday and had planned to go again tomorrow, but now that he had an unexpected free night, he decided to go over.

“Dean! I wasn’t expecting you tonight,” Sam said as he greeted his big brother at the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Y/N?”

“She took my shift, didn’t she?” Jess spoke from the sofa.

“Wait… she said one of her nurses had to take a leave of absence… she meant you?” Dean shoved his way into the house and crouched next to his sister-in-law. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I had to start maternity leave a little early. Hazard of the job at this stage. High stress leads to high blood pressure, and long hours on my feet have given me painfully swollen ankles. Y/N really took my shift tonight?”

“Yeah, she said she was the only one who could cover it at short notice,” Dean confirmed. “You, uh, you don’t think she was just saying that, do you? About being the only one who could do it?”

“No, I don’t,” Jess smiled. “Y/N signs up for her share of overtime shifts, just like the rest of us, but she’ll always offer a cover shift to one of her nurses first so they can get a little extra. And she was really looking forward to tonight, which means she couldn’t get someone from another department to cover for me either. If she said she’s the only one, you can take her word on that.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded, accepting what Jess had told him. “And you’re good?”

“Yes, Dean,” Jess rolled her eyes. “Now, tell me why you thought Y/N was lying?”

“It’s not that I think she’s lying. It’s just that I keep thinking she’s gonna tell me she’s changed her mind about staying and is going back to Chicago,” Dean admitted. “So, I was wondering if this might be her way of pushing me away.”

“You think she’ll leave again?” Sam asked.

“Why not? She had a good life up there,” Dean countered. “Friends, a good job-”

“That had her working over seventy hours a week, Dean! It was a good life if all she wanted to do was work. Her job there got her where she is today and has made her a phenomenal nurse, the best I’ve ever worked with, but it wasn’t a life. Not really. Talk to her about it. She’ll tell you that herself.”

“Come on, Dean. You really think she’d have taken a job here and moved all her belongings across the country if she wasn’t planning on staying?” Sam said, always the voice of reason. Dean often went for the emotional response before the logical one, at least when it involved his own feelings.

“She left before,” Dean shrugged, “and my biggest fear since she came back is that she’ll leave again.”

“Have you talked to her about this?” Sam asked.

“When we first talked, like really talked, I asked if she was back for good, and she said it depends on what happens with us.”

“And when she called to cancel, you thought she’d changed her mind? Realised it was a mistake coming back?” Jess smirked softly, understanding what fuelled her brother-in-law’s insecurities.

“I always find a way to fuck everything up, and I always end up alone. It’s only a matter of time ‘til she realises that being with me is a mistake,” Dean voiced.

“That’s not true. The only reason things didn’t work with the others is because they weren’t Y/N. They weren’t your girl,” Sam comforted his older brother. “You and Y/N started dating at fifteen, right? And were together for how long? Three years?” he asked, and Dean nodded. “Before that, you were best friends. Wherever you were, she wasn’t far behind and vice versa. Always. And you and I both know that if it hadn’t been for her father and upbringing, she’d never have left, and you’d still be together now. I guarantee it.”

“You should listen to your brother, Dean. Sometimes he talks sense,” Jess smirked, and the older Winchester smiled a little.

“What probably isn’t helping,” Sam continued, “is that your first date was what, like a month ago? And because of her father and work, you haven’t had that second date yet-”

“I’m sorry. I feel like that’s my fault,” Jess frowned.

“That’s not on you. Don’t even go there,” Dean responded firmly.

“But if I hadn’t-” Jess started, but Sam quickly interrupted.

“The point is,” Sam veered the conversation back on track, “that everything seems to be going against you right now, and it’s no one’s fault,” he glanced pointedly at Jess. “You arranged another day for your date, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Next Tuesday.”

“Then you’ve got to stay strong, keep fighting. Keep calling, keep trying! You never know when an opportunity might come up for coffee or lunch; even if you can’t see her, remember that you’re meant to be together. You’re being tested and need to fight and not give up because you’ve hit a few hurdles.” The younger Winchester said.

“I know. You’re right, Sam,” Dean nodded. “Can’t just be easy, though, huh?” he chuckled.

“With your history, I really wish it was,” Sam laughed. “God knows you deserve it. Both of you do. And that’s why you keep expecting things to go wrong.”

“Alright, enough of this chick flick shit. Let’s get to work on my nephew’s nursery.” Dean changed the subject, wanting the attention off him and his insecurities.

“Nephew?” Sam scoffed. “You know something we don’t?”

“That,” Dean exclaimed, pointing at his sister-in-law’s protruding stomach, “is a boy. I feel it in my bones, Sammy!”

“Well, can you tell your nephew to stop kicking my bladder?” Jess grinned.

“No can do, sweetheart. Winchester boys are stubborn. There’s gonna be no telling him what to do!”

“Figures,” Jess rolled her eyes. “Already in cahoots with your daddy and uncle, huh?” she giggled, rubbing her stomach affectionately.

ONE WEEK LATER

As Dean walked into the firehouse for his last shift before his date with Y/N, he texted her the same thing he’d sent every morning this week.

Dean Good morning beautiful 😘

She was working the night shift, and Dean smiled widely when she responded with her usual reply instantly.

Y/N Good night handsome 😘

Dean walked into the changing room to change into his uniform and put his belongings in his locker, knowing that in twenty-four hours, when they had this text exchange again, it would be the day of their second date.

When he found out that she would finish work at seven on Tuesday morning, he’d asked if she wanted to change their date to later in the week to let her sleep and had said no in a tone that killed any further argument he could make.

Y/N explained that after her last night shift, she never slept more than a few hours, so she’d be tired enough to go to sleep at a normal time and get into a routine to enjoy her days off, so, she insisted they go; not wanting to postpone it even longer than they’d already had to.

Dean couldn’t deny hearing how keen Y/N was for their date was immensely comforting and did a lot to tame his insecurities. Still, nothing seemed to stop the expectation that something would go wrong somewhere. That feeling in his gut was unwelcome, and he could only hope it was just his nerves playing tricks on him. 

Brushing his worries to one side, Dean tucked his shirt in, closed his locker and took a deep breath, throwing a silent prayer to the universe that his shift would pass quickly.

Next Chapter >>

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Three years on... where the fuck did the time go?? As a European, waking up to the chaos was a fucking trip lmao. We collectively broke tumblr. Literally. Everything that's happened in the aftermath since could be its own version of 'we didn't start the fire'. Spanish dub, my beloved <3. Rogue translator except not really because it was the script. CW snipers lmao. Mark Shepperd telling Misha that we all knew Cas was in love with Dean. J2 fallout/divorce. Et tu brute? Prequel Gate. The Prequel itself. Jensen being as - if not more - insane about Dean than us. Jensen joining us on the Dean's happy ending isn't dying, and he's not really dead train because that was bullshit. His sexy silence era. The clown show that was the final episode. Deancas Valentines Day wedding, which we all celebrated. The Cw going bust and dying on a Thursday. The fact Cas canonically died on a Thursday. The insane details in the confession itself; the handprint, the parallels to the end of season 4 aka where Cas broke free from the narrative and made the story up as he went even though he wasn't supposed to be in this story. Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester. All the script leaks. All the things that still don't make sense a la why was Jensen heard screaming Cas' names while filming 15x19. The deleted scenes of 15x19 ("Where's castiel? I'm sorry. He was a good soldier " and the absolute devastion in Dean's eyes stop -). The gapping plotholes that were never even attempted to be fixed. There's been all that and so much more. Chuck only knows what will come next (and oh yeah, Rob Benedict is on team chuck actually won, for the finale theorists) but there's no peace with this hell show (both affectionately and derogatory) so we all know it's not done yet.

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #november fifth #nov 5th #nov 5 2020 #destiel anniversary #castiel #dean winchester #sorry to my mutuals i am unfortunately too emotionally tied up to this godforsaken show to be normal about it #today is the day i allow the madness out to breathe as a treat

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 22: THE AFTERMATH

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student

YOUR POV

Over the next two weeks, you tried your best to get your life back in order and this started with speaking to the Dean of the school about your issues with James. You had this conversation twelve days ago, just before the commencement of the mid semester break and, of course, you did not mention the threat James made against you and Cillian to the principal of the school, but explained that, for the sake of your friendship with your fellow students, you needed James’s record to be cleared.

Unfortunatly for you, the school’s principal was not interested in what you had to say and referred you to your lecturer himself in order to address the issue at hand.

“Cillian’s email address is active until the end of the term so I suggest you email him about the report” he thus said as, according to him, only Cillian could withdraw his report as this was the school board’s policy.

“Well, thanks” you responded, essentially thanking the Dean for nothing before, indeed, making contact with Cillian via phone.

You texted him, telling him that you needed to talk about James and, unbeknownst to you, Cillian never read this text message which you sent him as Kit had secretly deleted it from his phone.

This was twelve days ago now and you had not heard from Cillian ever since, thinking that, just like an immature little boy, he was avoiding you at all cost.

***

Cillian avoided you by resigning from his position at the Gaity School of Acting and he also avoided you by having his friends Dermont and Connie bring Nina to her dance classes on Fridays and Saturdays.

As such, you knew that, following a two day court hearing, Cillian had finally received shared care for his daughter Nina, allowing him to see her every Thursday to Sunday and yet, not once, did he accompany Nina to her classes during those days.

On Thursday, Danielle would drop her off and Dermont or Connie would pick her up and take her to Cillian’s house and then, on Fridays, they brought her back for her one-on-one session which, to you, was absurd.

On Saturday, they would do the same and it was on this very same Saturday evening that your life would change forever.

“I cannot believe that he hates my guts so much that he is not even going to show his face at his own daughter’s dance classes?” you cursed once, making sure that only Connie could hear you while feeling rather unwell that particular day.  

“He is in London actually, shooting a campaign and Nina is staying with us for two nights” Connie told you nicely but your emotions had gotten the better of you by this point.

“And how about the last however many lessons? Was he busy too?” you asked, seeing that Nina had five prior classes in the past twelve days during his days with her, preparing her for the finals in Cork in two weeks.

“To tell you the truth….no…he wasn’t busy, but I think that he is hurt and you shouldn’t take it personally Y/N” Connie explained but you simply shook your head, feeling like Cillian has been treating you unfairly, especially since Cillian never responded to your somewhat urgent text message about James.

In addition to that, you felt a little under the weather. Most days, you were nauseous and some days, you even felt lightheaded, the cause of which you believed to be all the stress factors in your life right now.

“How can I not take this personally?” you asked Connie before apologising to her. You had no intention to whine so much about your failed relationship in a place like this.

“I am sorry Connie, I shouldn’t have put you in the middle of this. None of this is your fault. It’s mine. I fucked up and now I need to concentrate on doing my job” you blubbered along while sweat was building on your forehead.

“You don’t look so good Y/N. Are you okay?” she asked, seeing that you were pale and sweaty just as your head began to spin again slightly.

“I am fine. I am just a little tired” you told Connie before telling her that you were going to get ready for class and check on Nina who, like always, took a while with binding her shoes.

***

Just as you disappeared however, you felt another bound of nausea come on and retreated into the lavatory again, but at least this time, you did not have to throw up.

You splashed some water on to your face while holding on to the sink and looking into the mirror, seeing a girl that, once again, felt rather lost.

You had been there before, many times over, but this time around, it was different as your body sent mixed signals to your brain.

You felt out of balance and you most certainly felt hurt, taking a moment to think about him again.

Cillian was the man you cried over every night since you broke up and forgetting about him felt like a battle you could not win as, at least in your mind, there was never a creature more beautiful than him.

His eyes were the kind that, with a single look, could force one to stop in the middle of a sentence and remain mesmerized. They were blue like the sky on a sunny day, but much more expressive. His hands were strong, but when they stroked your cheeks, you felt nothing except softness.

When you were with Cillian, you saw man who appreciated the arts as much as you did and he believed in the freedom to create his own path. He was a man with a strong mind who even cared about debating topics like politics, yet had the audacity to expose the shallowness of it all.

He was intelligent and kept you on your toes and you loved every rousing second of it as no one ever challenged you intellectually before.

Falling for him was not tough and, unlike with James, the silence between you and Cillian on occasion spoke volumes. You just understood and your connection and your love was something that never needed to be talked about because, like the oxygen surrounding you, you just knew it was there. He knew everything about you other than your age and you thought you knew everything about him as well until now, which is when he treated you in a way you never believed to be possible.

You had your heart broken by him and are now picking up the pieces, crying again, in front of the mirror while playing with the necklace he gave you.

You still wore it every day and, just as you held onto it and took in a deep breather, you heard a familiar voice from behind you.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Nina asked as she stood next to you, looking at you with concern before admiring your necklace.

“Yes, I am fine. We probably should get started, shouldn’t we?” you said nicely while smiling at her.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind starting a little later. I have all the time in the world” Nina told you before looking more closely at your necklace and noticing the engraving.

“Did you know that this is a reference made by John Lennon?” she then said before looking at the initial “Cx” on the bottom of the heart shaped pendant which was something that made your mind tick over for a second or two.

“Yoko Ono, actually. I think she came up with it” you told Nina, surprised by the fact that she knew about music from this era before telling her that the necklace was a gift.

“From a boyfriend?” she asked, causing you to chuckle.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. We were something I suppose” you told her, which is when she told you that her father loves the Beatles and makes her listen to them all the time, hence the reason she knew about the quote.

“The Beatles are great and I actually have a song from the Beatles for your next solo, if you are interested” you then told her and, of course, Nina was keen which is when you asked her to join you on stage.

Cillian’s POV

Over the past two weeks and even until his arrival in London, Cillian too tried to come to terms with the break up from you but, unlike your actions, his actions had become a little more destructive.

Destructiveness though was not something that was a usual reaction for him and it was this destructiveness that concerned his friends Dermont and Connie.

Dermont and Connie took turns taking Nina to dancing with them, knowing that Cillian struggled with the idea of seeing you there. He was lost within his own world of emotions and pain and it was this pain that had become a problem for him.

For almost two weeks, he did not leave the house unless his children forced him to and neither of them knew what was going on. They were both worried about him as well and, luckily for Nina in particular, Dermont came around occasionally to check on Cillian when he had not heard from him for a while.

“Still hibernating?” he thus asked on a Thursday afternoon while Connie was at dance class with Nina and their twin girls.

“What do you want, man?” Cillian asked, snapping at his best friend without any reason whatsoever while Dermont picked up a pile of dirty clothes form the floor and threw them into the dirty wash basket.

“What I want is for you to get out of the house and get this pigsty cleaned up before Nina comes to stay with you tonight” Dermont said with concern as he had never seen his friend in this kind of shape before. Even when he broke up from Danielle, he managed just fine but, now, he did not.

“Just fuck off man and leave me alone” Cillian though said, being frustrated by the constant criticism from his friend who, in the end, went as far as to organise a cleaner for him.

“No, I am not going to fuck off! You are coming with me while this mess gets sorted out. Now come and get dressed” Dermont ordered before pulling the gaming controller away from Cillian’s hands and throwing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans at him, hitting him in the face with both.

“Fuck man, I almost…” Cillian spat, seeing that he almost cracked the next level in his game, which is when Dermont interrupted him.

“I don’t care. Get your ass of the couch now!” he told him before picking up the front door key and, on the way out of his apartment, leaving it with the doorman for the cleaner to use.

***

With that, Dermont took Cillian to a place they had not been to for a while, namely the pub and, whilst Dermont monitored his friend’s alcohol intake, as little as two pints of Guinness got him talking.

Cillian talked about everything, for the first time since the break up from you and he admitted to his friend just how much he struggled with it.

“I miss her so much it fucking hurts” he said as, deep down inside, he was looking forward to talking to you and seeing you every day as this had been the plan before he found out about your age.

“And you can’t see past her age?” Dermont thus asked and Cillian shook his head. He had to be realistic about his feelings for you and knew that, something like this, would never work out. He was almost 23 years older than you and this was something that, in his mind, could not possibly last.

He was done with having children and had no desire to get married again but, at 23 years old, he believed that you probably had no idea about what you want in life while, yet, he missed you an awful lot.

In fact, he missed you so much that, every night when he tried to go to sleep, he remembered you as your scent still lingered on his pillow which, for the past two weeks, he had refused to wash.

In addition to that, Cillian would often scroll through the photos of you on his phone which he could not bring himself to delete. Seeing your smile in most of them was precious to him and it made him remember how much he loved listening to the sound of your laughter.

Cillian too missed that, when he would go to look at you, you were already looking at him first and, whilst every day, he tried to convince himself that he does not want you anymore, he just could not let go.

In his mind, he did not want to see you move on, but he was not doing anything about it either as he knew that he had to give you up. To him, you were his angel in human flesh. You were too much for him and, yet, he could not get enough of you and this feeling was killing him, knowing that you deserved much more from life than he could ever give you.

With that, tears built up in the corner of his eyes again and when it was time to go to meet Nina, Dermont asked whether he would be okay for the next few days.

“Connie and I can help with Nina this weekend, you know. You just need to say” he thus offered but Cillian shook his head.

“Thank you, but no. I will take Nina to London with me tomorrow for the weekend. She will enjoy that. Kit is coming too and, when I am working on the commercial, they can go shopping or something” Cillian explained to his friend who thought that this was a good idea until, when Cillian and him met Connie and Nina at Cillian’s apartment, Nina had a fall out with her father about it.

According to Nina, she could not travel with him to London as, in two weeks, she was dancing at the finals in Cork. As such, Nina knew that she had to train and prepare for it and this, to Cillian, did not make much sense.

“You don’t have a choice, Nina. I have to work in London and your mother is on holidays” Cillian argued which is when Connie stepped in and pulled Cillian aside, offering for Nina to stay with her and Dermont for two nights.

“Listen dad, you will have me for two entire weeks now as mum is away. Just let me stay with Connie and Dermont for two nights while you fly to London for work” Nina argued, having overhead the conversation and realising her father’s reluctance to let her stay with his friends.

“Fine. If this is what you want” he though said nonetheless and this excited Nina, seeing that she was good friends with Dermont’s daughters.

“You are the best dad” she then said while giving him a hug.

“If you say so” Cillian chuckled in response before attempting to cancel the third room he had booked for Nina as, now, it was only him and his assistant Kit travelling to London.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

[outofbluecomesgreen2]

Yeah, I know, “Thursday…” is a real good fic…

Of course, I have time for you Garth. I always have an open ear for you, and you know that. 

You're a real nice person and writing your parts was so much fun. Not ha-ha fun, of course not, but you are an open-minded friendly guy, a good friend… 

Speaking of: how is Larry Roman? Oh, he plans to move in with his mother? Sounds like a plan, to doesn’t sell his soul to a crossroads demon only to dominate Rome with casinos and bars. 

And, did you hear about Crowley? He didn’t try to set his arm on fire again, did he?

Good.

Since last week I was worried about him, I mean, he is such a dramatic person…

…

Yeah, still no more comments, and kudos are rare… It bugs me a bit, but what else can I do than being patient and continue writing.

…

Indeed, I do! That’s so cool! One of the coolest!! 

No, not about you guys. I’m not ready to start the continuing stories. Doing it means letting you go, and I’m not strong enough for that right now. 😢

I‘m actually writing about Gunnar Lawless, yeah, my dream come true story to be honest 😇. It will take a while, but it will be the second part of „The Holiday Episode“, with Cas and Dean and an OC, which I never tried before in fanfic 😘 I’m so excited 🥳

No, actually you can’t read it until you are not old enough, because it will be kinda spicy, but don’t worry, we’ll find you a real good fic. Go, and check my insta. 

And, can you do me a favor? I can’t reach Cas right now. I thought he would be in the bakery to work with Bobby; Jo was on the line and told me he would hang out with Dean a lot. Can you ask him, when you see him next time in the group, if he wants to visit me? Next week maybe? I think some people out there want to hear how HE is doing. It’s also been a while I talked to him. I kinda miss him☺️

Cool. Thanks buddy😉

And now, which song would you like to hear? Which one reflects your inner self… yeah, as an Arrow Ace… Arrow Ace for life! That’s the whole point

😁 🏳️‍🌈😉

#Thursday… is a real good fic #supernatural #destiel #deancas #ao3 #supernatural fanfiction #castiel #supernatural au #dean winchester #its a wonderful life #led zeppelin #Garth Fitzgerald IV #ArrowAce #being ace #fleetwood mac #friendship #Spotify

[deancaspinefest]

2023 Pinefest Posting Schedule

Under the cut, you’ll find the full posting schedule for this seventh round of the Dean/Cas Pinefest, along with links to each preview.

Happy pining, everyone!

Tuesday February 14 | Everywhere Wednesday February 15 | The Devil You Know (Who Also Knows You) Thursday February 16 | Other Worlds Than These Friday February 17 | The barista and the bookshop Saturday February 18 | Hunter's Throne Sunday February 19 | Marigold Monday February 20 | won't you stay with me, my darling, when the war starts in my heart? Tuesday February 21 | Depth of Field Wednesday February 22 | Dear Western Red Cedar #2409 Thursday February 23 | You Could Save Me (from the way I tend to be) Friday February 24 | straw house, straw dog Saturday February 25 | Life After Loss Sunday February 26 | Don't forget me when I'm gone Monday February 27 | On Wayward Tracks Tuesday February 28 | The Fool, Fish and Rocks Wednesday March 1 | Something in the Air Thursday March 2 | stay in my arms (if you dare) Friday March 3 | Everything's Fine Saturday March 4 | Djinn & Tonic Sunday March 5 | Buzz Monday March 6 | My Turning Page Tuesday March 7 | Breaking Bonds Wednesday March 8 | The Emoji Guy Thursday March 9 | When I Knew You Friday March 10 | Faith and Magic Saturday March 11 | Fall A Little Further Sunday March 12 | The Waiting (is the hardest part) Monday March 13 | Unbeknownst Soul Mate Tuesday March 14 | Lucky Mud Wednesday March 15 | Lavender Pines Thursday March 16 | Devil on the Dirt Friday March 17 | Maybe Next Time Saturday March 18 | r/Relationships Sunday March 19 | West Monday March 20 | carving deep blue ripples Tuesday March 21 | the long hill home Wednesday March 22 | when the stars align Thursday March 23 | My Body is a Cage Friday March 24 | Whisper My Name

Previous Rounds on Ao3:

2022 | 2021 | 2020 | 2019 | 2018 | 2017

#deancas pinefest #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #destiel art #deancas fic #deancas art #supernatural fic #supernatural art #dcpf 2023 #dcpf previews #pinefest previews #masterpost