#The Meet Cute Series

[supernotnatural2005]

The Meet Cute - Chapter Two

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Summary: After a drunken mistake comes a surprising turn of events the morning after. With a helpful push from your best friend, will you finally stop second guessing yourself for once? Will you finally take the risk with your heart?

Word Count: 2.7K

AN: Hey guys! It's finally here, part 2 of The Meet Cute. I'm sorry it's taken me so long, I really wanted to make a return to this story worth it. (I hope I've done so lol) and hopefully you'll be pleased to know, there will be more to this story, possibly another chapter or 2 👀

Warnings: FLUFF! Swearing, some self-doubt, not much else.

Tagging: @zepskies , @kr804573 , @roseblue373

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the pounding in your head. It was as if a marching band had set up camp in your skull, playing the world’s worst rendition of a pop hit on repeat. The second thing you noticed was the light streaming through the curtains—way too bright for the morning after regrettable amounts of alcohol consumed the night before. You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head to escape the merciless sunlight.

Snippets of the previous night began to filter through the fog in your mind: drinking at the bar, Dean’s cocky smirk, Matty ranting about “all the hot ones being straight” after learning about Sam’s fiancé, and...dancing? You groaned again. You vaguely remembered Dean’s hands on your waist, his laughter mixing with yours as the two of you spun around on the dance floor.

You rubbed your temples and turned over, trying to piece it all together and froze. There was someone in bed with you.

Your heart stopped as you stared at the silhouette next to you under the blanket. Broad shoulders, messy hair, the faintest hint of stubble visible on the face buried in the pillow. Oh god. Oh no.

Your stomach churned as you tried to remember more. Did you and Dean—? No, surely not. You weren’t that drunk. Were you?

“Please don’t be Dean. Please don’t be Dean,” you whispered to yourself, panic mounting. Summoning all your courage, you reached out a shaky hand and poked the figure in the arm.

“Mmmf,” came the groggy response, followed by a voice that was far too familiar. “What are you doing?”

You ripped the blanket off the figure and came face to face with a very dishevelled, very sleepy Matty. Relief crashed over you like a tidal wave, and you collapsed back onto the mattress.

“Matty!” You yelled, half-laughing, half-screaming.

Your best friend popped his head out from under the covers, hair sticking up in about twelve directions. He squinted at you. “Why are you yelling? I’m hungover, too, you know.”

“Why are you in my bed?!”

“Because I’m a saint,” he said, rolling onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “You were freaking out about ‘doing something dumb,’ so I stayed. You’re welcome, by the way.”

You flopped back onto your pillow, relief giving way to irritation. “You couldn’t have stayed on the couch.”

“Do I look like a couch person to you?” He scoffed, giving you an offended look.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “What happened last night? And why does it feel like I’ve been run over by a truck?”

Matty propped himself up on his elbows, his grin way too smug for someone in his condition. “Well, let’s see. You had a very friendly dance marathon with Dean—who, by the way, was very into you—and then, when your legs gave out, he carried you back to your room like some kind of knight in shining armour.”

Your face was on fire by this point. “Please tell me that’s all.”

“That’s all I saw,” he said innocently. “But who knows what Dean was thinking about?”

You grabbed a pillow and hit him square in the face.

Matty laughed and ducked away before adding, “Oh, and by the way, we’re all getting lunch together.” He said nonchalantly and paused as he checked the time on his phone. “In about two hours.”

Your jaw dropped. “WHAT?!”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Matty said with a wink. “Dean was all for it, but I figured you’d try to hide from him out of sheer awkwardness. This is me, as your best friend, forcing you to take a chance for once.”

“I—Matty, why?!” You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“Because you,” he said, poking your shoulder, “are a chronic avoider, and I, as your very wise and selfless friend, refuse to let you sabotage yourself. Dean’s hot and clearly into you. You’d be stupid not to at least try, even if it’s just some fun.”

Your stomach churned again—this time from nerves. “But he’s way out of league.” You tried to reason, and Matty rolled his eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t fall out of his head.

“Bitch, please.” Matty sassed, making you raise a brow at him. “You’re gorgeous, you’re hilarious, and you planned a wedding that people are going to talk about for years. If Dean doesn’t see that, he’s blind. Now get up and get ready. Wear something that says, ‘I’m effortlessly perfect but also fun to be around.’”

You stared at him. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is,” Matty said with a grin. “And you’re about to pull it off. You’re welcome.”

As he strolled out of the room, you flopped back onto the bed, nerves tangling with excitement. Matty might be meddlesome, but he was also usually right. Maybe it was time to take a risk. After all, it’s not like you had to marry the guy. What was the worst that could happen?

It was nearing 12 o'clock by the time you made your way downstairs to the little restaurant at the other end of the venue. Your sister was still indisposed; she too had had a wild night, and you left a message for her to meet you when she was feeling “alive” so you could see her off before her honeymoon trip to the Maldives.

Lucky.

The walk to the restaurant was simultaneously the longest and shortest of your life. Apparently, Dean had gotten your number at some point last night when you received a text from him not long after you finally got out of bed, reconfirming these so-called ‘lunch plans’ Matty had made.

The latter man strolled beside you, looking far too pleased with himself, while you mentally picked apart every detail of your outfit. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at your closet, replaying Matty’s words: “Wear something that says, ‘I’m effortlessly perfect but also fun to be around.’” How could an outfit say all that?

You eventually landed on a soft sundress in a colour that complimented your skin tone, paired with sandals that were cute but practical. “Effortlessly perfect” turned out to be very effortful, and “fun to be around” was apparently a leather satchel bag with tassels.

“Are you sure this is okay?” You asked Matty for the seventh time as you tugged at the hem of your dress.

Matty gave you a once-over and smirked. “You look great. Very, ‘Oops, I woke up like this, but let’s drink mimosas and talk about art.’”

You groaned. “I hate you.”

“Not as much as you’ll hate yourself if you mess this up,” he shot back, opening the door to the restaurant for you with an exaggerated bow. 

“Now, go be charming.”

Inside, Dean and Sam were already seated, looking annoyingly perfect. Sam had an air of quiet confidence as he sipped from a mug. Dean, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, a lazy grin spreading across his face when he saw you.

“Hey!” Dean called, standing to greet you both. “You look beautiful.”

The blush hit you before you could stop it. 

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.” In fact, he looked amazing. Instead of the black suit you’d seen him in last night, he was clad in a dark maroon flannel that accentuated those broad shoulders you’d had the pleasure of hanging onto last night, and some dark-wash jeans that showed off his long and slightly bowed legs.

Dean stepped closer, his green eyes sparkling as he leaned down and kissed your cheek. You had to hide your surprise with a clearing of your throat and a polite smile. Beside you, Matty muttered, “Smooth,” under his breath, and you fought against jabbing your elbow into his side. Why was this a good idea again?

“Matty,” Sam greeted with a polite nod, clearly still wary after last night’s shenanigans.

“Sammy,” Matty said brightly, taking the seat across from him in the booth and leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. “Miss me?”

Sam shakes his head with a chuckle. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Matty quipped, and you rolled your eyes at the two of them before sitting across from Dean, who looked entirely too amused by the dynamic. Before any more conversations could flow, a server came over with a fresh pot of coffee for your table, and you thanked her gratefully.

“So,” Dean said, resting his forearms on the table as he focused on you, “did you survive the hangover?”

“Barely,” you admitted with a laugh, stirring into your coffee your usual amount of sugar and creamer. “Thanks for, you know, last night. For carrying me to my room. I’m honestly mortified you had to even do that.” You chuckled, heavily embarrassed. Dean didn’t seem to mind though as he waved a dismissive hand.

“Don’t be. I had a great time.” He grinned wide and genuine, eyes shining with something unspoken. 

“Well, I appreciate it either way.” You mumbled shyly. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flip, and you looked down at your cup, fiddling with the rim nervously. Why is he even interested? Whispered the insecurities you fought to ignore. Made more difficult without the help of your good friend, Jameson.

“You okay?” Dean’s voice softened, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Still shaking off the whisky haze.”

Dean didn’t look convinced but didn’t press you.

“So, how did you two meet?” Sam asked curiously, and Matty piped up before you could, taking charge of the storytelling, as per usual.

“Well, it’s a tale for the ages.”He started rather dramatically, really putting his 3 months of drama school to use.

“Picture it: college orientation day. I’m walking across campus, radiating my usual charm, when suddenly—bam! Y/N crashes into me, spilling an entire tray of cafeteria tacos all over the both of us.”

Your cheeks burnt as Dean and Sam stifled laughter. “That is not how it happened!”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Matty countered, grinning wickedly. “And then—because she felt so bad—she tried to help clean me up but slipped in some of the taco sauce, nearly taking us both out.”

“I didn’t slip,” you protested, laughing despite yourself. “And it was nachos, not tacos.”

“Details,” Matty said with a dismissive wave. “The point is, it was fate. She looked up at me, covered in salsa and regret, and I thought, ‘This girl is going to make my life infinitely more interesting.’”

Dean chuckled, and his gaze softened as he looked at you, as if he could relate, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“That’s a pretty solid start to a friendship.” Sam nodded through his amusement.

And you shrugged, biting back a grin. “I guess if someone’s willing to stick around after that kind of first impression, they’re worth keeping around.”

Matty placed a hand over his heart. “You hear that? She kept me. Truly, I’m blessed.”

Dean laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I don’t know if I’m more impressed by the nacho incident or by the fact that you’ve put up with him this long.”

“Neither,” you teased, sipping your coffee. “The real mystery is why he’s put up with me.”

Dean shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. “I think I can see why.” You looked away shyly, but you were unable to fight your smile.

“How about either of you? Any stories, and by stories I mean humiliating tales, to share?” Matty began stirring his coffee, just like he was the conversation.

"Well... there is one that springs to mind.” Sam teases, and Dean groans, already bracing himself.

“Oh, come on. Do we really need to—”

“Oh, we do,” Sam and Matty interrupt simultaneously, making you giggle into your hand.

“How about accidentally signing up for a salsa dance class because someone thought it was a ‘salsa tasting’ event?” Sam informed with a jab of his thumb in Dean’s direction.

Matty’s eyes lit up as he nearly choked on his laughter. “Please tell me he actually went through with it.”

Sam nodded, his grin widening. “Oh, he did. The full two hours. By the end, the instructor gave him a ‘most improved’ sticker, which I think was more pity than praise.”

Dean shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “I stand by it. A little footwork never hurt anyone.” He shot you a quick look. “Those skills aided me just fine last night.” Again you had to look away at his implication with a shy bite to your bottom lip. Memories of Dean’s talented footwork and moves around the dance floor flashing in your mind.

“Alright,” Matty announced, “before we continue, what’s everyone ordering? Because I, for one, need to eat for a family of four to recover from this morning.”

The conversation shifted, and for the next few minutes, you all ordered your food, the playful banter continuing. Your nervousness started to fade. The tension in your chest eased with every laugh Dean pulled from you. He was funny, easygoing, and had a way of making everything feel like an adventure. Even when Sam joined in, adding his own dry humour to the mix, you felt more and more comfortable in their company.

Dean leaned in to ask you more questions about your life, and you’d told him how you’d found a niche for planning, event planning more specifically, and decided to make a career out of it. Dean seemed to hang onto every word, genuinely interested.

In turn you learnt more about his job as a mechanic and co-owner at his dad’s garage that specialised in classic cars, which you found to be incredibly impressive. And as you listened to him talk about his work, you noticed how his hands moved with confidence and ease, like he was describing something he was deeply passionate about.

You also learnt that both of them were fellow  ‘Kansans.’ Whereas you resided in Topeka, Dean and Sam lived in Lawrence, and although it was only a town over, it explained why you hadn’t run into either of them beforehand.

As the conversation continued, you found yourself relaxing more and more. The nervous energy that had been gnawing at your insides started to dissolve. 

By the time the food arrived, you were laughing freely, engaging with everyone at the table, and… finding yourself feeling comfortable with Dean. It didn’t hurt that, with each passing moment, the way he looked at you felt more intense. Like he was paying attention to you in a way that felt different from the others.

After everyone had finished eating, Matty took it upon himself to grab the check—naturally. He reached for it with a dramatic flourish, blocking Dean’s hand.

“Absolutely not,” Matty declared. “This is on me. Consider it an investment.” He aimed the last words at you with a wink, and you looked at him incredulously.

When you all stood up to leave, the others moved on ahead, but Dean lingered by your side. You felt his presence, warm and easygoing beside you, and you couldn’t quite suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“So,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he slowed his pace to match yours, “any chance I can see you again sometime? Without the audience?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. The sudden weight of the question hung in the air between you, and you weren’t sure how to respond. Everything about this felt a little surreal—like a moment that could go either way. But then Matty’s words echoed in your mind: ‘Don’t sabotage yourself.’

You took a breath, steadied your nerves, and smiled, a little shy but hopeful. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Dean’s grin widened, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this wasn’t as terrifying as you thought. Maybe it was time to take the risk, to stop second-guessing yourself, and let things unfold as they were meant to.

Dean stepped a little closer, his hand brushing yours as you walked side by side toward the door. You couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something worth the gamble.

AN: Okay, so how do we feel about the reunion between these two? And Matty's glorious input? 😂 He honestly is the best cheerleader! I hope you guys enjoyed this, let me know what you think and if you're excited for the proper date with Dean 👀

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters let me know.

[hinamie]

long way home

[weedle-testaburger]

you'd better all acknowledge the most important things from that finale, by which i of course mean this:

[wwillywonka]

rewatching where no man has gone before and it's wild how different spock's characterisation is in this versus the rest of the series. like i know logically (haha) that the episode was so early that the show and nimoy didn't really have a grasp on the character yet (made evident by the "one of my ancestors married a human woman" line), but it also strikes me that this is technically kirk's first episode in timeline (production) order, meaning jim and spock have barely started to get to know each other. it's obvious from the chess game that they're already very close and likely have been joined at the hip since their very first meeting, so i like to think that spock is almost, ya know, giddy at this point, adjusting to the comforting warmth and joy and security he feels just by being around jim all the time because it's all so new, because he's never had anything like this before. spock likes jim so much and so immediately and wants to get to know him better and feels safe enough around him to let jim get to know him better, too. the interaction at the end, "i felt for him, too" and "there might be some hope for you yet, mr. spock." followed by a very not-subtle, fond smile from our dear vulcan first officer, just stands out so much against the rest of the series. young spock and his brand new blossoming crush for his captain and he hasn't gotten to the point where he's afraid of those feelings yet, just basking in how nice it feels to have a proper friend. so damn cute. it fills me with butterflies.

[satsuha]

🎉 happy anniversary 🐙Ⅱ!! 🍻

can't believe it's been a year already!! i love this game to bits

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded | Masterlist

Eminem x Musician

AO3

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Little extras:

1. 2. 3.

[omgtheregoesthefuckidontgive]

Rule no 1 for newleyweds... Don't go to sleep angry

[hxshpuppies]

I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask you, neither should you | Luke Castellan x reader

word count: 1.3k

a/n: felt like writing a meet cute. title lowkey doesn’t make sense but i love hozier so….Athena!coded reader. one-shot (probably). no use of (y/n) or (name) because I prefer not to do that. :)

warnings: not edited, not proofread, written in one sitting / not from chicago 😓 / i haven't written in AGES so...

The first time you met Luke, you had barely stepped foot into camp.

You were someone whose arrival had no pomp and circumstance, and--much to your protector's relief--whose journey had been relatively smooth-sailing save for one case of a missing train ticket, which had been a minor setback more than anything. Now here you were, protector-less (they had left to meet some council?), alone--despite the multitudes of campers that flocked to and fro around you--and tired.

Chiron had dropped you off in front of the Hermes cabin, and you passed by countless inquisitive eyes as you entered the building. The humidity of the summer gave your face a sheer glow as you, out of your element and more than a little nervous, padded towards the door with your bag in tow.

The moment you reached for the door it flew open (you yelped), expelling a handful of giggling children who were whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves. Upon seeing you, they quieted down, but then like a pot boiling over they resumed their antics and walked away, an sparing an occassional glance at you over their shoulders.

"Sorry about them," A voice cut through the retreating din of the group. You jumped again, whipping around to see a tall boy about your age standing in the doorway. The wind sent the leaves around the cabin rustling as he brushed his hand through his hair, opening the door wider. "Come on in."

You bowed your head, avoiding his gaze, and walked into the cabin, the smell of musk and earth--and plenty of other strange things--wafting through the area as you took in the beds and children running around.

"So, you're the new camper, huh?" You turned back to the boy, who walked past and led you to a vacant bed near a window. You followed, placing your duffel bag down.

"I'm Luke. Luke Castellan." The boy extended his hand to you with a practiced camp counselor smile, curly brown hair highlighted by the sun streaming in through the windows. You introduced yourself to him, soft-spoken yet firm. "I'm the counselor for Cabin 11. You can come to me if you have any problems adjusting to life here. Or if one of these goofballs steals something of yours."

It was his job to make sure his campers were taken care of, that they were comfortable. It was his job to help them settle in.

"It's lovely to meet you, Luke." Your voice was level as you shot him a polite smile, recovered from the whirwind of arriving at the cabin itself. "Thank you for your help."

A silence settled into the gaps of the conversation as you unzipped your tattered duffel bag, reaching inside for the few belongings you'd brought with you. You felt Luke staring at your back and an awkward cough followed. He'd sensed your anxiety.

"So, where are you from?" You gazed back at him timidly, still unsure of anything and anyone around you. He faltered, hoping he hadn't asked a painful question. To his relief, you smiled wistfully.

"I'm from Chicago--Lincoln Park." A picture frame, a little worn, holding a picture of you and your father at a baseball game. The sunlight lit up the photograph as you placed it on the windowsill.

"I've never been." He was straddling the back of a chair now, leaning his chin on his arms, facing you. He continued, voice soft and inviting. "I'd like to one day. What do you like about it?"

You paused packing, settling yourself on the bed as you thought about your hometown.

"The beach--well, the lake--and the White Sox games, obviously. " You hummed, deep in thought and nostalgia, playing with your hands. "My dad and I also used to go to this place, they had the best sundaes, and we'd go every year on my birthday. And then we'd take the train home."

Your smile quickly twisted, going sour as a tear threatened to trail down your cheek, and you quickly caught yourself before it could.

"That sounds fun." He rocked back in the chair, and nodded to the picture you'd put on the window. "Baseball fan huh?"

"Hardly," You chuckled. "I mainly went becuase my dad loved them so much....I'm more of a museum enjoyer."

"Art?"

"I mean yes, but I like science and history ones too. Bones and all." Your lips turned upward slightly at the sight of Luke jumping out of his chair.

"Well you're in the perfect place, given we," he gestured to the cabin around him, leaning on a bedpost. "are partly known for stealing things."

You laughed, a genuine laugh, your sleeve wiping off the the remnants of the tears you'd almost shed. Luke grinned, face beaming. (he'd cheered you up, at least a little).

He straightened up, resuming his camp counselor aura. "Well, I do ha--"

"What about you, Luke Castellan?" You said his name, softly, like you were testing out how it sounded in your mouth. You looked up, hoping he hadn't heard you sniffle, hadn't seen the glistening in your eyes from before.

Maybe it was because you were slightly embarassed that you'd almost cried in front of a guy who you were now beginning to notice was, in fact, very pretty.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm holding you up." Embarrasment, flushing down your body and running through your veins.

"No!" His eyes widened, and he shifted back to face you. "No it's okay, what was your question?"

"Where're you from?" The words tumbled out of your mouth, before you could say what you should've said--a polite 'nothing, thank you'.

He faltered. You'd caught him off guard. Usually newbies didn't ask him about himself--they were too busy asking more questions about the camp itself. You waited, brow raised and eyes gleaming with genuine interest.

"I'm from Connecticut," He watched your eyes light up, familiarity flooding your face. "You been?"

"No but....you ever watch Gilmore Girls?" A soft grin painted your face and you caught your bottom lip between your teeth in excitement. He'd been asked this a few times, but this time he couldn't help but not respond with his usual exasperation, faced with your barely-contained excitement.

"I have." He listened as you spoke, opening up slowly like a flower in bloom. After all, it was his job to make sure his campers were taken care of, that they were comfortable. It was his job to help them settle in.

But maybe he stayed longer than he usually did, maybe he answered your questions about himself because he had a fleeting thought that you were pretty or he liked the way you laughed at his jokes and it was influencing his judgement. Maybe it was how easy it was, the way he fell into conversation easily with you.

Tyche had set your fates spinning.

[turtleblogatlast]

One of the biggest things that makes me see Leo as trans is absolutely the size of his carapace in comparison to his brothers’.

And I’m not talking about height! I’m specifically looking at his shell here, because when you compare him to the others, particularly Donnie who is nearly the same height as Leo, it’s very clear that Leo’s carapace is much longer in proportion to the rest of his body.

Like - standing side by side, even though Donnie is shorter his carapace ends noticeably higher up than Leo’s does. And I like this not only because it really helps push the idea that Leo could very likely be trans (or intersex!), but it’s also just a fun design difference between them.

(It also lends way to future scenarios of Donnie eventually getting taller than Leo, but sitting down still has Leo being the taller one haha.)

[blatantprinterpropaganda]

!! meet cute: i stop you from jumping into the school pond, you ask me what headphones are, and i instantly recognize you are the penguin who was staring at me at the zoo a few days earlier

[appropriatelystupid]

thinking about agatha feeling so betrayed by rio, unwilling to listen or reconcile the truth of her role and her passive nature, feeling haunted by death herself, that she hides herself away as soon as she gets the darkhold

but witches still seek the road and who is she to pass up a quick powers boost when they come so willingly into her presence

so for years and years (decades surely, centuries probably) she collects covens and lures them to open the road and leaves them husks in her wake

death comes, as she must, unable to find her love but confronted so clearly by the remnants of her work

and so death becomes the one haunted

[supernotnatural2005]

The Meet Cute - Chapter Three

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: After deliberating with yourself for weeks about committing to a date with Dean, you finally take the plunge after some much needed encouragement off of your best friend and the desire to see Dean again.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: FLUFF, mentions of past relationships, Matty is something else 😂

AN: Here it is! I'm excited to finally be sharing this with you all and hope it was worth the wait. I do apologise for it taking so long, but I wanted it to be right. Also, I am from the UK, and know very little about American customs and their multicultural societies etc 😅 What is included in this chapter is purely based off of research, so I do apologise if any of it is wrong.

Main Masterlist

TMC Masterlist

The first few weeks after the wedding weekend flew by in a blur. Work had been relentless, and though you had Dean’s number and exchanged a few texts, you just couldn’t find the time—or the courage—to meet him again. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. Every time his name lit up your phone, your stomach would flip, and you’d catch yourself smiling before you could stop. But the thought of stepping into something new, something that could hurt as much as it could heal, was terrifying.

Matty had been the loudest voice in your ear, even from across the country. After the wedding, he’d returned to LA, and his absence was palpable. Phone calls and late-night texts were all you had now, and this evening was no different, and as perusal the topic was brought back to Dean. 

“Babe, you’re doing that thing again,” he said in a sing song voice over the line. “You’re overthinking, overanalysing, and over-everything-ing. Just go out with him. It’s one date.”

“It’s not that simple,” you replied, picking at the edge of your blanket you had draped over your legs, a glass of half-drunk wine sat beside you. Outside, the rain drizzled against the windows, the soft patter mirroring the unease in your chest. It was a common denominator in your augment of why you hadn’t gone on this date already. 

“You don’t understand,” you said, your voice quieter now. “The last time I let someone in, it broke me. You were there, Matty. You saw what it did.” Although it had been nearly 3 years, sometimes the wounds still felt fresh, no matter how much ‘healing’ you’d done. 

The line was silent for a moment, and then Matty’s voice softened. “I did. And I also saw you rebuild yourself. You’re stronger now, more than you realise and you deserve to be happy. Don’t let fear keep you from that.” You sighed softly, knowing and hating that he was always right. But it was moments like this that made you only cherish your friendship more. 

“Now, onto more important topics. Has he sent you a dick pic yet? And can I see it?” 

After scrubbing, to no avail, at the wine stain you’d made by spluttering all over your beige blanket as a result from choking on your wine.

Leave it to Matty to turn a tender moment vulgar.

His previous words had stuck with you long after the call ended. 

They echoed in your mind as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. You’d spent so long guarding your heart, building walls to keep the pain out. But those same walls had also kept joy at bay. Could you really let someone in again?

The decision came one evening when a text from Dean popped up. It was a meme—a goofy, exaggerated depiction of a woman in an elaborate ball gown captioned, “Me: ‘I have nothing to wear!’”

You burst out laughing. It was the latest in a string of silly back-and-forth’s you and Dean had been sharing. The unofficial competition to ‘out-meme’ each other had been one of the lighter parts of your chaotic weeks. His text reminded you of the morning after the wedding, when he teased you about your hug faux pas and your insistence that you didn’t need rescuing. 

Somehow, this guy—the one you’d hugged by accident, who had laughed with you through one of the most unexpectedly fun nights of your life—was still here, making an effort.

The thought hit you like a jolt. Dean had stuck around. Even through your genuine excuses of being busy, he hadn’t given up. And he still made you laugh.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you typed out a reply.

You: Okay, you win. When are you free?

His response came almost immediately.

Dean: I’m free Friday. There’s a little Italian place just outside of town I think you’d like. I’ll pick you up at 6?

You: Deal. 6 it is.

Friday evening arrived quicker than you expected. You spent far too long debating what to wear, rifling through your closet as Matty’s voice echoed in your head.

"Wear something that says, ‘I’m interested but not desperate’”.

“Easy for you to say.” You huffed, settling on a simple pale-yellow sundress paired with some cute wedges you’d purchased a couple of weeks ago, but had yet to wear. By the time you were done with your hair and makeup, you were flustered but cautiously optimistic.

When Dean had texted that he was outside, your stomach was a bundle of nerves. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your bag, forgoing a jacket since it was the middle of July and the weather was decent enough to not need one, and headed out. 

You were taken by surprise when you first saw his car. It was a classic black Chevy, sleek and immaculate, and somehow it suited him perfectly. Dean leaned casually against the driver’s side, dressed in a dark green button-down that made his eyes stand out even more, paired with some dark-wash jeans and boots. He looked delectable.  

Dean’s grin widened the moment his eyes met yours. "Wow," he said, his voice carrying a mixture of warmth and awe. His gaze swept over you—not in a way that made you feel self-conscious but as if he genuinely appreciated every detail. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," you replied, a shy smile tugging at your lips as a blush crept up your neck. His words, paired with the sincerity in his tone, had you feeling flustered in the best way. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

Dean stepped closer then, his movements unhurried and natural, as though he’d done this a hundred times before. When he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his lips barely brushing your skin, it was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"It’s really good to see you," he said softly, his voice tinged with a genuine warmth that melted any lingering nerves.

The unexpected intimacy left you momentarily stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. You barely managed to maintain your composure, though the scent of his cologne—woodsy with a hint of spice—was distracting in the best way. And the way his hand lingered briefly on your arm as he pulled back didn’t help your spiralling thoughts. Damn, why did he always have to smell so good?

"You too," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended. Meeting his eyes for a brief moment, you felt a jolt of something unnameable. It left your stomach flipping and twisting, and before you could overthink, you broke eye contact, glancing toward his car.

“Nice car,” you blurted out, gesturing toward the polished vehicle behind him. Immediately, you wanted to kick yourself for your awkward comment, but Dean didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his grin grew even more excitable.

“She’s my baby, my pride and joy,” he said with a touch of affection, running a hand over the gleaming roof. His tone held such earnest admiration that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your baby?” you teased, raising a playful brow.

Dean didn’t falter, not even a little. “What?” he said, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. “Are you a little jealous? Afraid of some competition?”

You chuckled, raising your hands in mock surrender. “Oh no, I can clearly see I’m outmatched here. You’re a loyal man. I know my place.”

The two of you laughed together, the teasing exchange breaking the last of the tension. You nodded your thanks with another shy smile as he opened the passenger door for you, even closing it behind you.

As he settled behind the wheel, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. The ease in his smile, the gentle confidence in his movements—it all felt strangely reassuring. Then the teasing voice of your best friend entered your mind for the last time that night. 

“I told you so.” And in that moment, you couldn’t find it in you to argue.

The restaurant was charming, with rustic wooden beams and string lights casting a warm glow. The scent of garlic, basil, and freshly baked bread filled the air, making your stomach rumble. Dean held the door open for you, and the hostess led you to a table by a window overlooking a small, fairy-lit garden.

As you sat down, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement. Dean seemed to pick up on it, his expression softening.

“You, okay?” he asked, leaning slightly forward.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, then added with a small laugh, “It’s just been a while since I’ve done this.”

“Me too,” he admitted, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his usual confidence. “But hey, there’s no pressure, alright?”

His reassurance settled some of your nerves, and you nodded in kind. Soon the conversation began to flow, and you talked about your favourite books and movies, the quirks of your jobs, and shared embarrassing childhood stories that left you both laughing. Dean’s laugh was deep and genuine, and you found yourself relaxing more with each passing minute.

“So, the garage,” you said, resting your chin on your hand, you’d just finished a hearty plate of delicious pasta, both of your now empty plates sat off to the side. “How did that happen?”

Dean’s expression shifted, a flicker of something more serious crossing his face. “It started after my mom passed. My dad… he kind of fell apart. The garage became his way of coping, and eventually, it became mine too. It gave us both something to focus on, something to build together.”

“I’m so sorry about your mom,” you said softly.

“Thanks,” he said, his gaze meeting yours. “It was tough, but it taught me a lot about resilience. About not giving up, even when things feel impossible.”

His words struck a chord, the unspoken understanding passing between you. Before the moment grew too heavy, Dean smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“What about you?” he asked. “What’s your family like?”

You hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly. “Well, my mom remarried when I was six, and she and my stepdad, Jeff, had Amy a year later. Jeff’s been amazing—he’s the only father figure I’ve ever known since…” You trailed off but Dean interrupted, seeing it was a tough subject.

“Sounds like a great guy.”

“He is,” you said, your voice warming at the thought. “Growing up, the age difference between me and my sister sometimes made it hard to be super close, but now that we’re older, we’ve found our niche. And I’m so proud of her.”

Dean smiled affectionately at that, maybe because he could relate himself, in that regard.

The rest of the dinner passed by in a blur of laughter and shared stories. When the check came, you realised you weren’t ready for the evening to end.

“I don’t know about you,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin, “but I’m not ready to call it a night yet.” 

Dean’s smile widened and it instantly dampened your rising anxiety from your confession. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, there’s a fiesta festival back in Topeka,” you said. “It’s been going on all week. They have some great sweet treats too.”

“You had me at something sweet, let’s go.” He said, his enthusiasm making you grin. 

Downtown Topeka was alive with vibrant colours, lights and the hum of music. Strings of Papel picado fluttered in the breeze, and the scent of spices and fried dough filled the air. Booths lined the streets, offering everything from handmade crafts to authentic Mexican dishes.

Dean’s eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning as you passed by a churro stand.

“You want one?” You offered, stepping closer to the stall, he nodded furiously eyes alight with wonder at the cinnamon sugar-coated fired dough, and you exchanged a few dollars to the merchant for two servings. 

After enjoying the sweet treat and finding amusement in Dean’s adamancy that he needed to revisit these little fried pieces of heaven.

You wandered through the festival, stopping to watch traditional dancers perform in brightly coloured dresses. Dean bought you both a drink from one of the stands, and you couldn’t stop teasing him as he tried to pronounce "champurrado" while ordering the warm drink.

“This is incredible,” Dean said, taking in the bustling energy around you. “Do you come here every year?”

“Pretty much,” you said, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “It’s one of my favourite parts of living here. What about you? Do you guys have anything like this back in Lawrence?”

Dean tilted his head slightly, his gaze scanning the lively festival around you. “Not like this,” he admitted, the warmth of the surrounding lights reflecting in his eyes. “Sam would love it, though. He’s a big culture guy—always reading up on traditions and history. Stuff like this would be right up his alley.”

“How is Sam, by the way?” you asked curiously, stealing a glance at him as you strolled side by side along the strip. The stars above were fully awake now, scattered across the velvety black sky. The fading hues of twilight had been replaced by a soft chill, and without realising it, you drifted slightly closer to Dean, drawn to his steady warmth.

“He’s doing good,” Dean replied, his tone infused with a mix of pride and affection. “Working a lot as usual. But—big news—he and Jess finally set a date for the wedding.”

“Wow, that’s great!” you said, your excitement genuine. “I’m really happy for him. Though…” you added with a playful smirk, “Matty’s gonna be crushed. He was holding onto hope that Sam would switch sides.”

Dean let out a hearty laugh, the sound warm and unrestrained. “Maybe it’s best you don’t tell him, save him the heartbreak.”

“You’re probably right,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I guess we’re both victims of our younger siblings figuring their lives out before us, huh?” The thought lingered as you looked ahead at the vibrant festival, your tone shifting slightly.

Although you were proud of the life you’d built for yourself, a small part of you had always assumed you’d be the one to walk down the aisle first. It wasn’t jealousy—more a wistful acknowledgment of how differently things had turned out. Your chest tightened briefly at the thought of the man you’d once believed would stand by your side.

But that memory no longer felt sharp. The sting had dulled, replaced by clarity. That relationship would have been suffocating at best—a living hell at worst.

“Funny how things work out,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

Dean huffed softly, a sound of both agreement and amusement. “I guess we've just holding out for the right person,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful.

The gentleness of his words made you glance over, only to find his eyes already on you. His gaze was steady, holding something unspoken but unmistakable. It wasn’t just the charm he wore so effortlessly—this was deeper, more earnest.

Your stomach flipped, the air between you charged with something that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

“Maybe,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper as you held his gaze a moment longer.

The sounds of the festival buzzed around you—the distant laughter of children, the rhythmic thrum of music—but it all felt distant, as though the world had shrunk to just the two of you. Dean’s hand brushed against yours briefly, a subtle, tentative touch that sent a shiver up your spine.

Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his, and Dean took the hint, intertwining his hand with yours. The simple gesture sent a warmth through you, a quiet reassurance you hadn’t realised you needed.

The night continued with more laughter, another helping of churros, at Dean's request, and even a few carnival games. Dean won you a small stuffed bear at a ring toss booth, grinning proudly as he handed it to you. 

You felt like a giddy teenager on her first date. There was something about Dean—the way he carried himself with that effortless blend of cool confidence and boyish charm—that disarmed you completely.

He had a knack for making you feel at ease, like you didn’t have to overthink or try too hard. By the time he walked you to the front door of your building, after driving you home, the evening felt like something pulled straight from a dream.

Dean lingered there with you, the warmth of his hand enveloping yours as his thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles. The simple touch sent a familiar current rippling up your arm, a spark that had been present from the very beginning but now felt undeniable.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, his voice low and genuine. “I haven’t had this much fun in… I don’t even know how long.”

“Me neither,” you admitted, clutching the stuffed bear he’d won for you against your chest with your free hand.

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. “So,” he began, a faint, hopeful grin tugging at his lips, “is it too soon to ask if I can see you again?”

The space between you felt smaller somehow, his presence radiating warmth against the chill of the night air. His closeness was grounding yet thrilling, and you couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face, making your cheeks ache in the best way.

“Not too soon,” you replied, your voice tinged with quiet certainty. “I’d like that.”

Summoning a burst of courage, you rose onto your tiptoes, leaning in to press your lips softly to his. The kiss was brief but full of emotion, and when you pulled back, the surprise on his face was endearing. His lips parted slightly; his eyes wide as though he hadn’t expected it, but then his expression shifted. The initial shock melted away, replaced by a bashful, almost boyish smile that lit up his features.

Your heart raced as you searched his face, the warmth of his lips still lingering on yours. A wave of panic crept in—had that been too much, too soon? You hadn’t planned it, hadn’t thought beyond the pull of the moment. But before you could second-guess yourself, Dean stepped closer, his hand gently brushing against your cheek as he leaned in.

This time, the kiss was deeper, his lips meeting yours with a tender determination that left no room for doubt. It was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to memorise every second, every sensation. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you under the quiet night sky.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with your own. His voice was softer now, almost distracted, as though he were still lost in the moment. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, the words carrying a promise you could feel in your bones.

You pressed on more lingering kiss to his lips, unable to help yourself. There was just something so intoxicating about the way he kissed you—gentle but determined, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

A part of you already felt the addiction creeping in, the kind of pull that made you crave more even as you tried to pace yourself. His lips left a tingling warmth against your own, a sensation you knew you wouldn’t forget.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, your gaze lingering on his as you tried to steady your breathing. “Goodnight, Dean,” you said, a knowing smile playing on your lips, your voice steadier than the whirlwind of emotions inside.

Dean cleared his throat, as though grounding himself, and took a small step back. “Night, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice rougher but no less tender.

You watched as he retreated toward his car, the sound of the engine breaking the silence of the street. As his taillights disappeared around the corner, the events of the night replayed in your mind like a dream—the laughter, the easy conversation, the way he had made you feel so seen and safe.

Clutching the stuffed bear tighter, you leaned against your door, a quiet smile still lingering on your face. For the first time in what felt like forever, a spark of hope flickered in your chest. It wasn’t just a fleeting feeling—it was a sense of possibility.

Maybe, just maybe, you could let someone in again.

AN: And there we have it. I'd love to know what you all thought? How did you like 'the date'? Are you excited to see where it all leads with these two? 👀 Also I know Matty is a fan favourite for some, and his part was much smaller, but there will be more of him to come 😁 As always thank you for reading 💕

Dean Winchester Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @lyarr24 , @nancymcl

Series Tag List:

@zepskies , @roseblue373 , @muhahaha303

[zhouxiangs]

is there anyone?

[junkdrawerfics]

First Meeting

Jasper Hale X Reader

Series of Firsts

Summary: The first time you meet Jasper Hale is when you get lost in the woods. Is he your rescuer or the danger you should be looking out for, though?

Words: 1712

Note: New series wooh! Hope you guys enjoy!

---

Moving to Forks in the middle of summer had its pros and cons.

Pro: You have plenty of time to explore and get to know the area.

Pro: You can adjust to the new home before school starts.

Con: You haven’t been able to meet many people your age and therefore have no friends yet.

Con: You thought it would be nice to take a walk by the woods, but you swear you saw a hurt cat and you tried to help it but it ran away and you followed it and now you’re lost.

The last point may not have anything to do with it being summer, but still.

On the bright side, you did catch the little guy! Not without a few scratches, but you got him.

You perch yourself on a tree stump, a small tabby kitten nestled in your arms, completely tuckered out from running. Careful to not jostle him,  you give him a good once over. It looks like he was maybe clipped by a car, or maybe a bike, dried blood running down one of his legs which looks significantly out of place. 

Poor thing.

Sighing softly, you tuck him back into your lap and glance around. The trees all look the same, and you have no clue what direction you came from. There’s no way to tell what time it is either, since you left your phone at home and the sun is completely blocked out by the clouds. Not the best situation.

At least it’s still light out, you think to yourself. It could be a lot worse. For now, it’s light, you’re warm, and you told your mom you were going out before you did, so she should notice when you don’t come back in a few hours.

If you don’t make it back yourself, that is!

“I don’t suppose you know the way out?” You hum, scratching the small kitten’s head as he raises his head at the sound of your voice. He looks at you with dark amber eyes, barely open.

“Mew.”

“Hm, I thought so.” You shake your head with a fond smile. “That’s okay. Maybe if I just start walking, I’ll find someone.”

The kitten grumbles a little when you pop to your feet. Might as well go with your gut, right? That’s what people usually do in situations like this. So, you go to set off in the directions you think you came from. Hopefully. 

Until you hear a loud snap come from behind you.

Every muscle in your body goes still. The ball of fur in your arms bristles, suddenly far more alert, letting out a quiet, squeaking hiss. It makes your chest tighten, a spark of fear and realization traveling through your bones.

Are there predators in these woods?

“You’ll hit the coast before you find a soul if you go that way.”

The sound of a low, rumbling voice immediately puts you at ease, the tension dripping from your shoulders. Thank the heavens you don’t have to wander even deeper into the woods. There’s no telling how much more lost you could get. You turn to thank your savior, eyes going wide when they land on him.

Pretty. That’s your first thought.

He’s very pretty. For a moment, you could even convince yourself you are just looking at a sculpture abandoned in the woods. He’s tall, very tall, gold hair falling to his sharp jaw, skin shockingly pale in the dim light. His eyes, dark and narrowed, glint with curiosity and maybe a hint of concern as he looks you over.

Heat flares across your cheeks. This feels straight out of some teen romance novel. A handsome stranger comes to the rescue of the damsel in distress. Except, while he is a handsome stranger, you are dressed in an oversized, pastel hoodie with cat scratches all over your face and hands. Not to mention the mangy kitten in your arms who looks like he wants to kill the man.

What a sight this must be for him.

You offer your rescuer a wide, somewhat awkward smile, “Thanks for telling me. I definitely have no clue where I am, if you can’t tell.”

The man tilts his head, brows furrowing, “How’d you end up all the way out here?”

“Well-” You shrug, shifting back and forth on your feet. “-it was just supposed to be a walk, but then I saw this little guy and he looked like he needed help.”

His eyes dart down to the small kitten in your arms, lips twitching in amusement. The fluff ball glares back at him without hesitation. You shuffle him in your arms a little, trying to get him to calm down, but he stubbornly clings to your sleeve so he can see the blond.

“I chased him out here,” you continue, settling for just clutching him against your chest, just in case he tries to be rude. “His leg looks pretty bad and I just couldn’t leave him, you know? I’m pretty sure he needs a vet, but I don’t know how to get back to town. Could you maybe um…”

You trail off. You shouldn’t hesitate to ask for help, you know it’s silly, but you don’t want to bother this guy. What if he was on his way somewhere? Maybe he could just point you in the right direction. But what if it gets dark before you get home? The thought of walking through the woods at night is not one you’d like to live through.

After a hard second of him looking at you, as if trying to figure out whether you’re a threat or not - which feels kind of backwards if you’re being honest - the man seems to soften. His posture loosens and a small, charming smile slants his lips. 

Your heart stutters.

In a very old-school, gentlemanly way, he offers you his hand, “It’d be a privilege to escort you back, miss-?”

You stare at his extended hand, completely oblivious to his question until you glance up and see him watching you expectantly, lips pursed, dark eyes dancing with amusement. 

Oh!

“(Y/n),” you blurt quickly, face going impossibly redder. “My name’s (Y/n) (L/n)! I just moved here.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/n).” The smile comes back, wider, brighter, and you want to melt. “Name’s Jasper Hale, I’ve lived here quite some time.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, too, Jasper Hale,” you chime, finally taking his hand (much to the kitten’s displeasure). “Especially now. I would've been wandering out here for a long time if you hadn’t showed up. Who knows what’s out here.”

Something flashes through Jasper’s eyes, but he merely smiles and agrees, “You can never be too careful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” you sigh, following him as he starts in the opposite direction you were going to go, “It’s my fault for thinking I didn’t need my phone. It’s just my luck to not have it the one time I need it.”

“Bad luck finds you at the worst times,” he hums wistfully.

“This is your fault,” you whisper down at the kitten, who has settled down a little bit, “You’re not even black, how are you so unlucky?”

He blinks up at you, looking unimpressed. You laugh, scratching his chest softly.

“I think he’s mocking me,” you murmur, “He probably doesn’t even need my help based on the fight he put up.”

“He just doesn’t know what’s good for him,” Jasper chuckles, something fond starting to grow in his chest.

He had been hunting when the scent of fresh blood had drawn him further into the woods. He didn’t even remember moving, hunting it down, nothing until he came to a dead stop there at the edge of the small clearing. That’s where he found you, watched as you slowly, patiently coaxed the angry kitten into your arms.

He doesn’t know what made him stop. What overcame the burning thirst in his throat. But when he laid eyes on you, listened to you talk to the kitten as if it would talk back, felt the gentle positivity coming off of you like pure warmth, it just disappeared.

Replaced with a burning curiosity and something fiercely protective.

Who was this girl he’d never seen before? Why was she all the way out in the woods, at least thirty minutes from the town? Alone? What if something happened to her?

The moment you started walking in the wrong direction, he couldn’t stop himself. Against his better judgment, of course. He couldn’t just let you wander off alone, though. The others will probably be angry with him once he gets back, but at least he can make sure you get home safely.

Which he does.

You stop at the edge of your yard, turning to him with the softest, most genuine smile, brimming with gratitude.

“Thank you, Jasper. Really. I hope this isn’t the last time we meet?” Your eyes glow with so much hope, and he can’t bring himself to deny it.

He should. He should stay far away from you, because something tells him that as much as this new feeling in his chest could be something good, it could also be something horribly dangerous. For you. He should stop it here and now, cut all ties.

But he saw how well that worked for Edward.

So he nods, dares to lift your hand to his lips and press a ghost of a kiss to your knuckles. Jasper can feel your life under his fingers, hear your pulse race, and he expects the thirst to come roaring back, to feel some kind of temptation, but the only thing he feels is your overflowing, bashful joy. And he loves it.

“Until next time, miss (L/n),” he murmurs, and you giggle, “Try not to run after any more injured animals, alright?”

“I’ll try,” you promise, feeling high as a kite.

“Good.” Jasper grins.

He watches you go inside, just to be safe, making eye contact one last time with the furry, little creature still in your arms, right before the door falls shut. It glares at him, tiny tail thrashing.

Unlucky, you said.

Maybe.

You’ll both have to wait and see.

---

Next

I'm pretty excited about this new little series! It'll be super simple, just a series about different "firsts" you have with Jasper, ie first kiss, first date, etc. If you want anything specific, let me know!

Also, I know it might be a little unrealistic, but I don't care! That's not what this is about lol

[girlsdads]

don't get that sinking feeling

(maxiel, explicit, 2.7k)

That’s definitely a guy in his bed. Daniel can see a sliver of soft, wrinkled ball skin between the cradle of those plush thighs. And if he looks closer—yep, that’s one of his mustache hairs pasted to the guy’s crack with what looks like dried lube. He supposes that explains the taste of literal ass that’s clinging to his tongue.

thank you Ford for turning daniel into a loser DJ with a beer gut. watched that video and thought, max could simultaneously fix him and make him worse 😌

[stayteezdreams]

Mans Chan's Best Friend: Part One

Plot: Chan makes a furry new friend when on the walk in the park, and he can't keep his eyes off their owner.

-Part Two-

Pairing: Christopher/Bang Chan x Gn!Reader

-Meet-Cute Series-

Words: 1.3k; it came out so much shorter than I wanted 😩

Your anxieties began to lessen as you noticed the lack of people in the park today. You had feared Cocoa might get to overwhelmed with crowds or strange dogs on his first walk in public. Luckily, you seemed to pick a good time when here were few people out.

As Cocoa sniffed and inspected every tree, bench and trashcan you came across, you breathed in the fresh air. Looking around, your eyes landed on someone walking your direction.

Even from a distance you could tell he was attractive. You slowed your pace a bit as he walked closer, he seemed to be distracted by something across the street. You took the opportunity to shamelessly check him out as he got closer, before you looked back at Cocoa.

Cocoa, seemed to notice the stranger at this moment as he suddenly darted towards him. Your heart spiked a bit as you called out to him.

"Cocoa no!"

Chris's attention was taken from the shop across the street as he heard a voice call out. Looking back he saw a small brown dog run up to him.

He immediately grinned at the sight, always happy to be approached by a cute dog. Before he knew it, the small dog was running around Chris's legs furiously sniffing him as the leash tied him up.

Chris let out a chuckle as your embarrassed voice spoke up, stealing Chris's attention.

"I'm so sorry! Cocoa, no, stop!"

As Chris looked up at you, he felt his heart skip a beat as he froze. He hadn't really noticed you until this moment as you were only a foot away, trying desperately to free him from your dogs snare.

Your eyes met the mans and you felt your face heat up. Your eyes remained locked in stillness for a moment. He was even more attractive up close. Why was it always the attractive ones that saw you in an embarrassing situations? You cursed your luck as you apologized again.

"Uh- I'm really sorry, this is his first walk out in public" You laughed awkwardly as you pulled your eyes away from his, your heart hammering in your chest.

Chris giggled, his eyes not leaving your face, "It's okay, really!"

"Let me just- sorry" You began to circle around him, untying yourself and Cocoa from him as Cocoa wagged is tail relentlessly as he tried to get the man's attention.

Chris smiled gleefully at the situation as he watched you try to free him from your dog's leash. You were clearly embarrassed by the situation, but Chris couldn't help but chuckle.

Not only was your dog adorable, but you were pretty cute yourself. And Chris only thought it more as he watched you.

As you ended up circling him a few times, only for Cocoa to do the same, leaving Chris still entangled, he giggled.

"Here, let me." he said softly as he reached for the leash.

You handed it to him, while pretending the way his hands brushed your's didn't send your heart into a flurry.

Chris giggled at the puppy's excited behavior as he untangled himself from the leash.

"There we go!" he said cheerfully as he handed the leash back to you.

You whispered a thank you as you smiled bashfully at him.

He grinned at you as he crouched down, petting Cocoa "You're a little menace aren't you?"

You were surprised by his accent, but found it even more attractive. He looked up at you "What's his name?"

"Oh, Cocoa!"

He smiled "Cocoa, cute!"

As he pet Cocoa, you found yourself admiring him again. He seemed nice, and you were glad he didn't get upset about Cocoa's behavior.

"You remind me of my dog Berry" Chris said as he continued to pet Cocoa, his voice a higher pitch than normal, making you smile at you watched him.

"Berry?" You asked softly, hoping to kill some of your awkardnes.

He nodded as he looked over at you momentarily "Yeah, he's back in Australia though so I don't get to see him often."

You nodded sympathetically "That must be hard."

He nodded softly "It can be." looking back at you he grinned, and you felt your stomach swirl. "I'm Chris."

"Oh, I'm Y/n."

He stood up, and wiped his hands on his pants before reaching out his hand for you to take. You shook it with a shy smile as he continued to smile brightly at you.

"Is he the first dog you've had?"

"Yes and no" you chuckled "The first dog I've had on my own. I had dogs growing up though."

He nodded in understanding "Puppy's can be a lot of work that's for sure."

"I'm beginning to understand that. Sorry again by the way, I was...distracted when he ran up to you, I should have stopped him sooner."

He lifted his hands dismissively "Don't worry about it, it was a nice surprise actually."

You nodded your head, feeling your shyness begin to take hold again as you looked down at Cocoa, who had now found something interested in a patch of grass.

Chris seemed to notice your shyness, and as cute as he thought it was, he feared you might be preparing to run off.

He cleared his throat "So, I walk in the park a lot and I've never seen you before, are you new to the area?" he asked genuinely curious, and hopeful that this might not be just a one time meeting.

"I've been here a while actually, I just never really came to this park much." you looked down at Cocoa "But now I have a reason too"

"So you'll be coming more often then?"

You nodded, wondering why he was so interested, as your stomach did flips. Was he interested in you? Or just Cocoa?

"Good good." He said with a grin "So maybe I'll see you and Cocoa again?"

You smiled, feeling your neck and face heat up "Probably, yeah. I was planning on coming most days when I'm not at work."

Chris nodded, trying to act nonchalant, but failing miserably when he scratched th back of his neck "What times- I mean, I uh- the park is usually really nice around this time every day, and the evening, those are when I often walk around. And uh, when I would recommend you come out."

You smiled, noting his awkwardness as you accepted that it was you he was in fact interested in.

"I think this time every day works. But, uh, what time in the evenings would you suggest? In case, I can't come out at this time." you asked casually.

"Oh, uhm, around five. It's not too late, but most people are at home after work, relaxing."

You nodded "Five is a good time. I think I might try it out, see how Cocoa likes it."

Chris nodded, trying to repress a smile "Good, yeah."

He cleared his throat again before he noticed the time on his watch. His heart jumped a bit as he realized he was running late.

You noticed the look on his face as he checked his watch "Late?"

He looked up at you and smiled before nodding "I should go"

Reaching down as he pet Cocoa he looked back to you and smiled "So...if, by chance, I ran into you tomorrow again, around five...would you mind be tagging along for your walk?"

You smiled as you shuffled on your feet shyly "I wouldn't mind."

He grinned and nodded "Good." he began to walk backwards "See you then, well, I mean if-"

"If you, are by chance here at five?"

He let out a laugh "Yeah."

You nodded and giggled "Yeah, okay. See you then. Maybe."

He grinned and turned to leave after chuckling "Bye."

As he walked off, he looked back at you once before he left the park, a smile still present on his face.

You grinned to yourself as you looked down at Cocoa. "What are you my wingman or something?"

xx End xx

Sorry for the abrupt ending but I suck at them lmao. I hope you liked it~

-Part Two-

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