#also i know this is like crappy but i needed to do it

[supernotnatural2005]

In the Eyes of a Hunter

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean finally had a few days spare from hunting with his dad to come see you at college. Though you weren’t exclusive, seeing you with another man opens up a can of feelings Dean had so desperately been trying to keep closed, and a confession that could change everything.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Angst, self doubt, Dean really needs to appreciate himself more 😩

AN: I know the gif is of Alec (Dark Angel) but, i couldn’t help but see a young Dean and this idea came to me 😅 It's a little more on the angsty side, but I promise the fluff is there. Also Happy New year! I know I've been away, not posting for a little while, but I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things. I hope you guys enjoy this one, let me know what you think?

Masterlist

2003

The crappy daytime shows weren’t cutting it, even in their static form from the ancient TV the motel provided. 

You were supposed to have been here two hours ago. That was the plan. Your class finished at 2, and then you were free for the day. Free to see him. 

After all, he had come all this way for you. What little time he could get away from hunting, he gave to you. He actively ignored the reason as to why he did, not wanting to admit the truth of it. Knowing it would cause more harm than it was worth. 

But as he sat here, aimlessly staring at the fuzzy figures on the screen, time slowly ticking away, his mind restless and full of scenarios that only seemed to bother him the more they spiralled, he realised maybe the harm had already been done. 

Deciding he’d waited long enough, he dropped the remote in his lap with a huff and took another look at the digital clock beside him. 

4:15 pm. 

He stood up from the bed and gathered his leather jacket and keys to the Impala his dad had officially given to him last month and headed out. Maybe you’d just gotten held up in class. He was no ‘Mr. College,’ but he understood there was a lot on your plate. At least from the last few times he’d come to see you. The stress had almost brought you to tears more than a few times, so he couldn’t understand Sammy’s desire to go. But hey ho, what did he know? He killed monsters for a living.

The rumble of the engine purred beneath him as he started the ignition. The sound echoed in the almost empty lot, bringing a proud smirk to his lips. He still couldn’t believe she was finally his. 

This car had been one of the only other constants in Dean’s life, getting them from A to B, sometimes even calling her home for the night. He knew as soon as his dad handed him the keys and handed him the responsibility of looking after her, he’d do everything in his power to do just that. 

As he drove toward your campus, the signs of autumn were heavily present with the flutters of orange and yellow leaves falling from the trees; his mind drifted to thoughts of you again. 

He had met you a year ago, having rolled through town to deal with a simple salt and burn case. He was riding solo, his dad dealing with more dire matters, like a fresh trail on Yellow Eyes. Sam had left a few months prior to go make it as a hotshot lawyer in California, leaving Dean alone in the aftermath. 

The fight between Sam and John had been ugly. Dean resorted to the middleman, as usual. He was proud of Sammy, more so that he was actually able to stand up to John, but he couldn’t help but feel the sting of abandonment. What did he have other than this job and his loyalty to finding the thing that took his mother?

After he wrapped up the case, he’d treated himself to a celebratory drink at one of the local bars, which happened to be a student hot spot, and that’s where he’d met you. 

He had noticed you almost immediately. You were breathtaking, and he’d found himself glancing in your direction more often than not, watching as you’d laughed and drank with your friends. You were so carefree, beautiful, and way out of his league for many reasons. Those reasons only multiplying once he’d gotten to know you, and they still rang true to this day.

You’d caught him staring; eventually, he’d seen your eyes flicker in his direction a few times. Despite his own self-deprecations, Dean knew he was good-looking, knew the effect he had on women, and he was surprisingly good at playing the confident ‘bad boy.’. 

He’d never really given much thought to anything other than a one-time thing. For one, it was easier that way. He never stayed in one place for longer than a couple of days, and secondly, his job wasn’t your normal 9 to 5, and having attachments was dangerous. 

However, as soon as you’d made your way over to him, after what had looked like some encouragement from your friends, and introduced yourself with that faux drunk confidence, he was hooked. 

At the time, you had just entered your senior year, and you had told him of your plans to take a gap year once you’d graduated. Like Dean, you felt a little lost in life, though for completely different reasons. Your major was something your father had insisted on, despite it not being what you had wanted to do. Apparently his plan was to have you work at his company, maybe even take over for him one day, but you hated all that corporate bullshit. 

So Dean already could relate. A demanding father whose opinion was the one and only. Maybe he did understand why Sam had left more than he originally thought. Like right now, he had this mission, his dad’s mission, yet once that was over, what next? Did he just continue what he was doing? Living off of stolen credit cards, diner food, and cheap motel rooms?

The more he got to know you, your desires and dreams to travel the world, live, and experience life, he found himself picturing that, wanting that too. You had a way of making everything seem brighter and more hopeful, making him feel like there was more to life than just a ‘job.’. 

He knows now why he kept coming back to you, why he still keeps coming back. Because for once in his life he felt seen, felt wanted, understood. And maybe it was time for him to tell you that. To tell you the truth. Consequences be damned. 

However, it was all wishful thinking, and Dean’s search for you was cut short when he spotted you walking out of the student library, your beautiful smile and sounds of laughter filtering through his open window, and beside you, another man. 

He felt his chest constrict, his stomach churn uncomfortably at the sight. His knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel tight. He rolled to a stop and watched as you continued to laugh at whatever this douchebag was saying to you. 

He knew he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t exclusive. He was the one who’d made that clear, and surprisingly you had been okay with it. You didn’t know what he really did for a living, just that he had to travel a lot for ‘the family business.’. 

Though, with his recent self-revelation that his feelings for you ran much deeper than something casual, this felt like a punch to the gut. Maybe this was a sign that this whole thing was a bad idea. Why getting close to someone was not on the cards for him. Of course you would’ve met someone else. How could you not? You were beautiful, smart, funny, and sweet. Why would you wait around for some drifter like him? 

With his insecurities rearing their ugly head, threatening to swallow him whole, he failed to notice the two pairs of eyes on him. It wasn’t until there was a light rap at the window that he snapped out of his thoughts. He jumped a little and looked to where you were leaning down beside the partially opened glass, your expression surprised, but you were smiling nonetheless. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Came your innocent question, but it just seemed to rub him the wrong way, that and he noticed that guy lingering a few feet behind you, looking around awkwardly. 

“It was getting late; I thought I’d come see if you were okay, but I can see you’re busy.” He spoke the last words with a little more venom as he nodded to the lingerer. And he hated the slight dip in your brow and the downturn of your lips. 

“I was actually on my way to see you now.” You began, your voice light but weary. “I’m sorry I got held up. Alex just needed some help, and time got away from me.” Your explanation did nothing to calm his nerves. In fact, it made him feel worse. Like he didn’t matter. Again he had no right, but he was already spiralling. 

“You know what? It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged you off. “I’m going to have to cut this trip short anyway. Dad called; gotta meet him a few states over.” The lie came easily, but the knife in his heart twisted with each word. You frowned at him, he saw it in his peripheral, but he refused to meet your eyes. He couldn’t. 

“Alex, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He heard you say before you walked around the car and abruptly slipped into the passenger side. 

“What are you doing?” His question came out more snappish than he intended. You folded your arms and sat back in your seat, looking much like a stubborn child.

“We’re going to talk.” You shrugged as if that were obvious. “We can either do that here or back at the motel; your choice.” You levelled him with an unwavering stare, one that crushed his resolve and had him grumpily starting the engine and driving back to the motel. 

You walked past Dean as he opened the door for you, your eyes widening a fraction at the state of the room. It had certainly seen better days; the wallpaper was faded and peeling from the walls, and the carpet had a questionable amount of stains on it. From what? You didn’t hope to find out. He usually stayed in much nicer rooms, but seeing as it was close to the holidays, this was probably all he was going to get. 

You plopped down on the squeaky mattress and looked at him. He was avoiding your eyes, shifting awkwardly in his spot. You’d never seen him this worked up. You liked to think you knew Dean rather well, at least him as a person. He still kept some things to himself, like the details of the job he did with his dad. Sometimes he came to you looking so haunted, but those times weren’t spent with much talking. 

You were beyond curious; Dean was a mystery you were still trying to unravel. However, you knew your standpoint: that you weren’t his girlfriend and never would be. He’d made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t want to make a commitment, yet he kept coming back for you. You didn’t push him as to why he did, in fear he would stop altogether. 

If you were honest with yourself, you had fallen in love with him months ago. Yes, your situation was complicated, and he never stuck around longer than a couple of days. But Dean was special; he wasn’t like the guys you knew at college or in your life in general. He was wise beyond his years, thoughtful, funny, and smart, despite how much he called his younger brother the “brains of the family.” And he was also one of the most handsome men you’d ever laid eyes on. 

“What was that back there?” You decide to just rip the Band-Aid off. You had a pretty good idea, but you wanted to hear it from him. He finally looked to you then, his posture straightening, his arms folding across his chest as if in a defensive stance.

“I told you, I was just checking to see if you were okay.” He spoke as if he didn’t really care for the conversation, but his jaw was ticking, and his brow remained furrowed. “I have to leave, so can we make this quick?” 

It was your turn to frown then. Admittedly, his words stung; you hadn’t even had the chance to see him yet, and now he wanted to leave all of a sudden. 

“Is this because of Alex?” 

“What? No!” His response was quick and higher in pitch, and it only confirmed your assumptions. He was jealous. 

“You know he’s only a friend, right?” You offer, biting back your smile. 

“And? Why would I care who you’re friends with?” He grumbled and looked down at one of the stains on the carpet beneath his boot, fixating on it as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. 

“It just seems like you do it all.” You shrugged nonchalantly, though your voice tinged with something akin to a teasing tone. His eyes flickered back up to yours, darker than you were expecting. 

“You think I care who you hang around with? Who do you date? I don’t own you. If you want to meet guys and have boyfriends, then go ahead; I’m not stopping you.” His voice rose an octave with each word, his body trembling slightly as he unleashed kept feelings out into the open. 

“It’s not like everyone I’ve ever cared about or loved sticks around. I mean, why would they? I’m a freak, a loser.” He reveals, his eyes widening slightly at his unmeant confession. You sit in stunned silence, not expecting that outburst from him. 

“So if we’re done here, I have to leave.” He quickly adds, embarrassed and angry at himself for saying those things. Things he’d wanted to keep buried and never allow to see the light of day. He hastily begins collecting his things; there's not much, but there’s enough to give you time to snap out of your stupor. 

“Hey.” You grab onto his arm with enough force to stop him from picking up his duffle. He obliges you, but you know you have to select what you say next carefully; otherwise, you’re uncertain as to if you’d ever see him again.

“I don’t know where all that came from, but I don’t think you’re a freak or a loser.” You frown sympathetically at him. It hurt you to hear him speak so lowly of himself.

“Dean, I think the world of you.” You admit it, and his eyes flicker to yours, uncertainty shining in those pools of green. “I know our situation isn’t ideal or even normal, but in this last year of knowing you, I think you’re amazing.” 

“You do?” The question slips out involuntarily, but your responding smile is warm and calms his nerves a little. 

“Dean, you’re the best person I know, the only person I want to see. I haven’t said anything because I know you didn’t want a commitment, but dammit, I love you. I am in love with you.”

Your last word is cut off by the sudden press of his lips. Your surprise squeak quickly turns into a grateful sigh. And you wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck as he hugs you closer to him. 

He breaks away after a few minutes, your breaths mingling in the small gap between where his forehead rests against yours. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s not what you were expecting him to say, but you allow him the time to speak. “I overreacted, and I had no right to.” 

You cup his smooth cheek, which he leans into, and offer him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” You swipe a thumb across his cheekbone, and he takes comfort in your touch. 

“I just. I have something I need to tell you. Something I’ve kept from you, been keeping from you.” He sighs, his face tormented and sad as he pulls away. It’s worrying you, but you try to internalise it for his sake. He takes your hand and guides you to the bed until you’re both sitting side by side. 

“Dean, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?” You tell him honestly. He seems to be battling in his own mind, his internal struggle present in his rigid form and fidgeting hands. 

He huffs out a humourless laugh and rubs a hand down his face before looking at you. Really looking, and you sit quietly, but strong, showing him you’re there and are willing to listen. 

“There’s a reason I never told you what I did for a living.” He begins. “For one thing, I didn’t even think we’d even get this far, and there was no point to put that on you.” He shakes his head, his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach in knots. 

“And secondly, it’s dangerous. My job is dangerous, and I’d never want anything to happen to you.” He looks at you pleadingly, and you nod, despite the swarm of questions flooding your mind. 

Meanwhile, Dean blows out a nervous breath; he can’t believe he’s going to tell you the truth. Something he’d been the most adamant about not doing. Though he is in too deep, he knows that now, and you had a right to know, a right to run for the hills about what he was going to confess. He’d even agree with you when you called him crazy and walk out that door and never bother you again if that’s what you wanted. Selfishly, he hopes that isn’t the case, but you had a right to choose. 

“I’m a hunter.” He begins, and it hangs heavy in the air for two different reasons. For you, you’re a little confused, not understanding the dire build-up and Dean because he was unveiling his and his family’s biggest kept secret. 

“To clarify, I don’t hunt deer, elk, or critters in the woods.” He explains, but the alarming look on your face at the only other possibility to you has him panicking. “Not humans either.” He adds with a nervous chuckle, and you visibly relax. 

“I hunt monsters.” He reveals, and you stare at him dumbly for a moment. 

“Monsters?” You repeat, and Dean nods in confirmation. “As in the bogeyman?” 

“Sometimes, yeah.” Dean shrugs as if that was a casual thing to admit. You blink at him, as if you’re trying to process his words, but they don’t quite fit together in your mind. Monsters?

Your heart is pounding now, your mind racing, but all that comes out of your mouth is a shaky laugh, laced with disbelief. “Monsters?” You repeat, your voice thin and tight, like you’re testing the word on your tongue to see if it makes sense.

Dean’s face falls, and for the first time you see him as vulnerable as he’s ever been. There’s something desperate in his eyes, a plea for understanding that only seems to make the pit in your stomach widen.

“Yeah,” he says softly, nodding, but his voice cracks with the weight of the truth he’s just unleashed. “I hunt things that go bump in the night. Demons, ghosts, things like that. Creatures that don’t belong in this world.”

The room feels suddenly smaller. The air thicker. You look at him, your head spinning, and you can feel your pulse quicken as panic starts to creep in. A part of you wants to laugh it off, because this is crazy. There’s no way this could be true, right? Dean isn’t telling you the truth. It has to be some messed-up way for him to push you away.

A cold, sinking feeling settles deep in your chest. “Are you... are you serious?” Your voice comes out shaky, a whisper of disbelief hanging in the air. “Is this some kind of joke? You’re telling me... You hunt monsters?”

His expression tightens, lips pressed into a thin line, as if your question just added a fresh layer of weight to what he’s already carrying. “I’m not joking. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. Since one of those bastards took my  mom." The room grows silent, both of you respectively reeling from his admission. 

You had always figured Dean’s mom wasn’t in the picture for the pure fact he’d only ever spoken of his dad or younger brother. For what reason you never knew; however, the truth of it was more devastating than you could comprehend. 

When he looks at you again, there’s a pain in his expression that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before, and it’s then you decide this isn’t some elaborate story to make a break-up easier on him or to spook you just for the fun of it. This was very real, and this man had been living it. 

“This life… it’s dangerous. The people I meet, the things I fight, they’ll come after anyone I care about. I never wanted to put you in that position.” Dean says, his voice breaking. “I wanted to keep you safe; you deserve so much more than this, than me. You deserve the truth.”

You stand there, trying to breathe, trying to make sense of the words he’s spoken, but it’s like your entire world has been turned upside down. Dean is telling you about this huge part of his life that he’d kept from you, and you can’t tell if you should be running for the door or if you should stay and try to understand him, to understand this.

“But why? Why did you even let me in?” You ask, your voice catching on the last word. The question haunts you, and you need to understand the answer, even though a part of you is scared of hearing it.

Dean’s eyes soften, and for a moment, you see the man behind the mask, the man who is so full of fear, so full of love, and so completely torn apart. “Because I love you,” he says simply, his voice soft but resolute. “I love you, and I never wanted to hurt you. But I don’t know how to make you understand what I do. How dangerous it is. How it’s too late for me to just stop, even if I wanted to. It’s all I’ve known.”

You’re frozen in place, the weight of his words hitting you harder than anything else. He loves you. It’s the last thing you expected to hear, the last thing you thought you’d ever get from Dean, especially now. But somehow, despite the chaos of it all, you feel your heart calm, just a little. Because the truth is, you really do love him. Despite everything.

You close your eyes for a moment, your mind racing with the enormity of what he’s just confessed. You want to scream, you want to run away and pretend none of this ever happened, but you can’t. You’re not that person. You can’t walk away from him, not now, not after everything you’ve felt for him.

You take a deep breath, forcing the words out, even as they feel foreign and strange in your mouth. “I... I don’t understand this. I don’t get it. But I do get you, Dean. I know who you are, even if I don’t know everything about your life.” You pause, letting the silence hang between you, both of you drowning in the weight of the moment.

And then, almost in defiance of the terror bubbling up inside you, you take a step forward. “I’m scared, Dean. I don’t know what this means for us. But I don’t want to lose you.”

Dean’s eyes flicker, relief and gratitude flooding his face. Slowly, carefully, he reaches out and takes your hand in his. “You won’t lose me,” he promises, his voice barely above a whisper, but the conviction in it is enough to make your heart steady, even if just for a second.

You reach up and press your lips to his, the simple action bringing you the sense of comfort and relief you both needed after such a heavy moment. Dean responds in kind, his hands firm and strong as he holds you close, his kiss soft yet purposeful, charged with an unspoken understanding of what kind of life you were agreeing to embark on. 

There’s so much left unsaid, so much you’re both struggling to understand. But for now, in this small, broken room filled with the weight of the truth, you both know one thing: neither of you is ready to let go just yet.

As you both part, Dean exhales a long, tired breath. His grip on your hips tightens slightly, and in that simple gesture, you can feel the conflict in him, the rawness of everything he's kept buried for so long. And yet, as much as he's terrified of the future, of what this could mean for both of you, there's something almost peaceful in his presence now, as if admitting the truth has, for just a moment, allowed him to let go of the weight he’s been carrying.

“I don’t want to drag you into my mess,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But I want you to know, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Whatever it costs.”

You look at him, really look at him, seeing all the layers that lie underneath the bravado, the smirks, and the jokes. The broken man who’s been carrying this burden alone for too long. Your heart aches for him, for everything he's had to endure. And as much as the idea of what he does terrifies you, as much as the danger and uncertainty swirl around the edges of your thoughts, there’s still a part of you that feels steady.

You take a deep breath, your thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. “I’m scared too, Dean. But I won’t walk away from you. Not because of this. But you’re right, we need to figure out what this means. All of it.”

His gaze softens, the hardness in his face fading just a little. “You don’t have to be a part of this. You don’t have to be involved.”

You shake your head, smiling gently. “I don’t know what the future holds, Dean. But if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that I don’t want to face it without you. Not if you’ll let me.”

The silence stretches between you, but it’s not suffocating anymore. It’s not filled with uncertainty or confusion. It’s a quiet understanding, the kind you only get after sharing something raw and unfiltered. He studies you for a long time, his expression softening, before he finally nods. There’s something fragile in that nod, something unspoken that passes between you.

“I didn’t think you’d say that,” he admits, his voice almost a whisper, like he’s afraid saying it out loud might shatter something delicate. “But I’m glad you did.”

You cup his face softly in both of your hands, a simple gesture that means everything right now. “We’ll figure it out,” you say softly. “Together.”

Dean lets out a breath, like he’s been holding it for a lifetime, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders loosens. The truth may have ripped through the air, but it’s not the end. It’s only the beginning.

AN: Hi all, I'm baaaack lol. This purely came out of the gif above and took on a mind of it's own 😅 what originally started as a jealousy fic turned into a; show some young Dean love fic 😂 I guess this can be perceived as a more positive outcome of him confessing his true life to someone he loves. I hope you guys enjoy ☺️

[cosmic-radio-station]

probably shouldve numbered it. but who cares just read from the top left and continue. also click to see

referencing this post (@torto-isemusings)

click on them pls

EDIT: MY DUMBASS WROTE SPRUKIES TWICE!!!!! its supposed to be sprunkies

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

is your custom blog theme supposed to lag the fuck out for anyone visiting. like is that a bug or a feature. it makes my browser freeze every time i open a post

It’s not supposed to do that

If anyone else has this issue pls let me know

I’ll get around to changing it eventually

[bloobydabloob]

Idk if this is ur type of music but i love listening to Talkshow Boy while drawing striders&dirkjake i think its a fun vibe. Especially Testosterone & Chop Us Out though i have a hard time picking favorites especially with the testosterone(album)

Just got back from a degree show. Check out this awesome art before I answer, sorry for lack of credit. I went near the end of the exhibition and most of the artists had no business cards left sadly. Sigh. I’ll have a look & update the alt text if I can find credit.

I’m mostly a death grips / Fiona Apple guy when it comes to music nowadays, if you are asking about taste. (My favorite song right now is coco mango diced by MF DOOM though) but I did used to listen to talk show boy when I was maybe 13 or 14.

From memory my favorite on testosterone was called something like “four breakbeats” or something. My bad, it has been a hot minute. I’ll relisten after this. I definitely understand where the Strider connotations come from with that artist though. I don’t think you’re alone either considering I’m also pretty sure there is a Dave Strider animatic to his biggest song. Ignore if I’m just lying here.

For songs / artists I associate with Dirk, I’m lacking. I have one song in my Dirk playlist and it is “declare independence” by Björk. (Don’t think he would listen to it, just associate with him). I do associate a few death grips songs with him but I think it’s purely by virtue of being a fan. (Specifically hot head, spread eagle across the block & I break mirrors with my face in the United States for Dirk / Spikes + culture shock + you might think he loves you yadda yadda for UltDirk. I recommend all songs. All good songs)

Here is a selection of songs on my DirkJake Spotify playlist though. Ignore if this is actually a sucky selection, don’t tell me if it is. I’m willing to explain any if you are curious.

Thanks for sharing this with me though. I’ll relisten to the album next time I draw Dirk… so probably soon. I draw that guy too much

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

rfhhhrggghh

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

thinking about singing in a choir/group in comparison to singing solo/accompanied by music and just thinking abt how comparatively different that is. an orchestral backup to a solo song is nice- and takes a lot of dedication to perfect, certainly- but you will always be missing the synergy that comes with singing with other people. the synchronous intake of breath, the way vocal harmonies hum through the air in a way humans were biologically designed to pay keen attention to. the control and perfection of sound with your body instead of just your hands and limbs, and the perpetual awareness that you're operating in sync with a handful or tens or even a large group of people.

anyways. thinking abt how wigfrid's 'spellbinding' singing voice absolutely did NOT come out of the blue. thinking about how she probably started singing alongside some sort of group before moving to actressing and spending the rest of her career and the rest of her life before the constant singing and being completely alone.

[the-starlight-papers]

My mom is here to help me move out of my apartment since my internship is over and where’s the “moms are capable of leeching vibe arsenic” post. Because. That’s what’s happening.

[avidlylivid]

so many swag epic awesome tmnt iterations (/gen /pos) and then I realise I Have Not Solidified Mine

anyways need to actually make the au premise other than random fun facts about them and their dynamics then come up with a name and then :3 the guys !!!

[weezerlvr228]

It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???

NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.

[fingertipsmp3]

Whyyyyyy is my quad lag back

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

*sighh* everybody welcome the new blorbos

gay people, divorced people, crime people, and catholic people

[strawbebyjam]

need someone to take the ex RO trope away from me

[diqldrunks]

snap out of it — max verstappen

requests are open! send me anything!! [nav | inbox]

a/n: i did not expect people to enjoy part one so much and i’m also in mourning that max didn’t do grid secret santa 😔 so here you go 🤭

content: rivals to lovers, reader is in a crappy relationship they haven’t broken up YET, red bull!reader, this is christmas-y 🎄

this is part two to a series!! find part one here!!

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yourusername ✓ who needs santa when you have a dutch redbull addict?

tagged: @/maxverstappen, @/hotwheels

17,517 comments…

user7 i am not well

user8 no bc i think this killed me

user9 i think the simulation glitched

hotwheels 🏎️💞

yourusername 🥰‼️

user10 THEY MADE DIFFERENT TYPES OF PINK CARS? I THOUGHT THIS WAS A LIMITED EDITION ‘ONE MODEL’ THING

hotwheels not only do we have different models, but the pink is here to stay! there will be at least one pink car in every collection released

user11 having her max do this for her after what nathan said is crazy

user12 it’s poetic

a/n 2: this was all from the fact that i could not find a pink hot wheels car in the shops. i know they exist but i actually control the universe 🤓☝️ and say that for this fic, they don’t.

max taglist; @see-me-wilding @forzacharlie16 @pastryfication @i-wanna-study @popsycles @cow-boy000 @iambored24601 @persephone-haven @eclipsedcherry @reidsworld @sepptember @formulaal @weekendlusting @elieanana @bby-aj @lottalove4evelyn @landossainz @rawr-123s-stuff @angstynasty @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @safeikik @sunny44 @theseerbetweenus @anilovessadbooks @raynetargaryan2 @stereading @kodeelynn @wierdflowerpower @lilypat

[htchnr]

♰ the walls come down ༻ VANDER.*ೃ˚

✮ꜜ masterlist. ✮ꜜ buy me a ko-fi!

content warning smut ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ monster fucking ⋆ belly bulging ⋆ creampie ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ kinda of sweet sex(?) ⋆ yet also feral sex at the same time ⋆ sappy and cut off aftercare ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

pairing Warwick!Vander x F!reader.

summary requested by a lovely anon; could you write a smut fic where Warwick!Vander recognises reader? wordcount 1,1k.

© ���𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

you don't know how this spiralled the way it did — your back being harshly pressed against the crappy sleeping bag you had dragged into the greenhouse when Viktor let Vander sleep there — his impossibly fat cock filling you up in a way that makes you feel like you're suffocating.

low animalistic grunts and growls sound from him as he hammers his heavy hips into yours, his pace not once faltering. your eyes roll back each time you catch a glance of the clear bulge in your stomach, as your fingers press down against it occasionally Vander lets out a rough snarl. his pace only quickens at the feeling.

" Vander-! slow- " you gasp, your nails digging into his thick and hairy biceps. your finger tips occasionally reach the metal, flinching at the somehow cold metal. " oh fuck! " you cry out as the bullying of your insides causes you to tip over into what you think must be your fourth orgasm by now.

Vander growls at the feeling of your tight, hot and wet walls spasming around him once again. finally, it was enough to tip him over the edge as well — his heavy hips stilling with a brutal final thrust and what could only be described as a roar as he spills his load into you. he buries his head against your chest and you gasp at the feeling, his thick cum leaking out in obscene amounts. you could feel your belly swell with each spurt.

you lay there, occasionally spasming beneath him as you both come down from your intense highs. all you can do is look up at the glass roof, your hands still firmly holding his thick biceps as you feel him take deep and heavy breaths.

" Vander? " you quietly call out, dragging your hand to hold the back of his head.

he lets out a sound, low and rough, akin to what you could only assume to be 'five more minutes' as he nuzzles his face impossibly closer into your chest. you let out a breathy laugh, combing your fingers through the thick fur atop his head. your eyes watch the small twitches from his long ears each time your gently brush against them, mesmerised by this intensely calm version of him.

" okay, you can have five more minutes. " you quietly respond, a tired smile on your lips. Vander lets out a pleased sound and a long exhale. " you better not fall asleep on me big guy, cause i need to get us cleaned up in a minute or two. " Vander makes a displeased sound — typical Vander. even before he was changed he'd love nothing more than to stay buried inside you for as long as he possibly could.

your heart clenches at the thought, and Vander can feel the sudden change in emotion. he grumbles, slowly lifting his heavy head off your chest to look at your face. he tilts his head, a clear 'is everything okay?'. you smile, smoothing your hand down to his cheek. " i'll be okay, now that i have you back again. " you whisper.

Vander's eyes close, a low, sad sound leaving him as he leans down to press his forehead against yours. you close your eyes too, nudging your nose against his much, much larger one.

life was going to be difficult for him to adjust to again, but you think everything will be alright again now that he's here with you.

authors note y'all..... that turned out way sweeter than i intended. i wanted to go crazy with the feral fucking, but honestly i just wanna hold Warwick!Vander and tell him everything will be alright... 😭🫠 act 2 of s2 F U C K E D me U P and i'm gonna slowly heal by writing these Vander fics 😭❤️‍🩹

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[hor3nee]

• Fatherhood •

What kind of dads are the JJK men ?

CW/TW: GN! Reader, Mentions of crappy parenting, BREIF mention of pregnancy in Geto's, (Lmk if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji x Reader

AN: Almost cried writing this the baby fever is going HARD rn dude. Headcanons !

• Gojo •

Menace of a father, but in the good way! Gojo spends his years raising his kids as if he's their best friend, truly and genuinely treats his kids as equals and in a sweet way, allows his children to have complete trust in him. Because Gojo is quite childish himself, he loves playing with his kids, making a fool of himself, and indulging with them.

Has a bit of a bad side to this though, his lack of traditional discipline or making himself the 'adult' in the situation leads the kids to both be very spoiled and not really ever listen to him.

"Sweetheart, darling, my perfect angel, can you please go to bed?? pretty please! Help your old man here, please??"

"Nuh uh!" And with that bout of defiance, he's back to running up to you, like HE'S the child, begging for your help. Because it seems you're the only one who can get the kids in line, and you do.

Plays pranks and teases the hell out of his kids as they get older, always in a loving way of course, but nonetheless loves getting them flustered over his stupidity. Type of dad to do dumbass dances in the middle of a Walmart to embarrass his kids.

• Geto •

Geto is optimum of what it means to be a gentle parent. Cannot, for the life of him, bring it in himself to yell at his kids. He's so soft-spoken, never so much as raising his voice against his children. Geto has children who respond to his voice alone, because it's so lulling, he's familiarized them with it and made them feel safe with it.

Doesn't mean he can't discipline them, of course he can, and he does so extremely gracefully. Whenever you're on your last straw with the kids, fighting the urge to start scolding them and yell, he steps in, smoothly taking over and the kids instantly listen to him.

"We're your parents, honey, c'mon that's not very nice to say, is it? They carried you for 9 months you know. Say sorry." Like magic the kids shut up and come over to you apologizing while Geto stands back, calmly having fixed the situation with ease.

With everything Geto does, has done, experienced etc, he can sometimes feel conflicted. Geto knows what he is capable of, and what he has done, he's extremely self-aware even if he justifies it, and he can struggle to balance the weight of all of it while also remaining a dutiful father.

Despite it, he does wonders keeping it separate from what his children have to see or experience, teaches them respect and kindness and hopes they hold true to it.

• Nanami •

Not a single man on this list fathers as hard as Nanami fathers. He's built for it like no other. Nanami treats fatherhood with his all, he puts his all into it and makes damn certain he does right by it. Stern when necessary, sweet when needed, provides for his kids and refuses to miss any important milestone of theirs.

Nanami is a calm man but the second work starts piling potentially making him miss his kids school play or something he's arguing with his supervisors and ready to throw hands.

He keeps the drawings his kids make on his desk, alongside a photo of you and your kids. Literally just stares at it while working smiling, unable to wait till he's home with the kids. They are his pride and joy genuinely.

No matter how over-worked Nanami may be though, when he comes home you are basically on vacation. Insists you rest and he takes over literally everything involving the kids.

"Darling, darling no, I got this covered. You take rest. You know I love spending time with my kids." He says with an earnest smile, both kids in his beefy arms just dangling around and playing with their father. He's definitely exhausted from work, but that never stops him.

• Sukuna •

The King of the Curses, as cruel and terrifying as he is, taking pleasure in all sorts of sickness and treating love as pointless, legitimately likes his kid.

He doesn't care about fatherhood, or the responsibilities that being a parent entails, but it's nice having a mini version of himself around. That he likes. An extension of himself and you, it's nice to have around he doesn't mind it. He may act aloof about it, not outwardly showing affection like hugs or kisses, but he clearly enjoys it.

He gets a massive ego trip when his kids cause chaos and disturbances. Points at them laughing with his belly "See that? That's mine."

Sukuna never minces his words though, and his kids have to get used to his bluntness. Again, he doesn't care for the concept of 'parenting', and will in their face call the kid some extreme insults and weak and they have to learn to take it.

On the flip side, Sukuna also never minces his praise, and Sukuna has an abundance to give his kids. Every accomplishment or show of strength that they show he'll let them know he's proud. A good ol' fashioned fatherly slap to their shoulder while he praises them.

He treasures his children, and even if he doesn't put much effort into parenting them, you taking over most of it, he's definitely a present figure in their lives.

• Toji •

Went to get milk, hasn't been seen since.