#if you try to ask him about it later he disappears in a cloud of smoke

[inkandoliveoil]

Soft Rebellion

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Secret Relationship, Subtle Angst, Tender Fluff

Summary: you find yourself in between worlds, while Eddie defends your honor

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

You were the only girl in the squad who listened to Bauhaus on your Walkman during warm-ups.

That alone made you weird. Add the fact that you didn’t worship the captain, wore thrifted leather jackets over your cheer uniform, and fishnets under your skirt? You were practically asking for it.

They were never outright cruel, just… quiet enough to be cruel. Offhand comments, lingering stares, laughter that stopped when you walked in. You’d grown used to it. You told yourself you didn’t care. You were on the squad for college applications. For scholarships.

You had your reasons.

And you had Eddie.

You kept him to yourself.

The late-night drives, the motel mixtapes, the way he touched your face like he couldn’t believe you were real—it was all yours. Not theirs. He didn’t understand why you were on the squad and didn’t pretend to. Every time he saw you in that green-and-gold uniform, he’d frown like it hurt him.

Eddie didn’t understand the cheerleader thing, not even a little.

“Why the hell do you do this to yourself?” he’d ask, rubbing your thigh while you pulled bobby pins out of your hair in his van. “They treat you like a roach.”

“Because I need the scholarship.”

“There are other scholarships.”

“I like not having to pick an outfit every morning.”

He’d stare at you for a beat. “You’re the strangest girl I’ve ever met.”

You’d grin and steal his cigarette. “Thanks.”

“You know they don’t deserve you,” he’d mutter into your neck. “Hawkins doesn’t deserve you.”

⸻

You weren’t even sure why you came. Maybe some small part of you wanted to be included. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that you could exist in both worlds.

That was your mistake.

You were on the edge of the living room, drink in hand, shifting from foot to foot while trying not to breathe in the thick cloud of cheap cologne and beer fumes. The other girls had disappeared into a circle of jocks, laughing too loudly, gesturing with their cups. You saw Trish lean in to whisper something to Heather, eyes flicking toward you, and then—laughter. Sharp, synchronized.

You didn’t hear the words. You didn’t need to.You looked down at your outfit. The cheer uniform, sure, but you’d pulled a black fishnet top under it and swapped the usual Keds for your scuffed boots. A mix of who you had to be and who you really were.

Apparently, it was hilarious.

You turned toward the kitchen, meaning to get some air, when a body slid in front of you. Tall. Letterman jacket. Brad. Or maybe Chad. They all looked the same—square jaw, empty eyes.

“Well, well,” he drawled, looking you up and down like you were inventory. “Didn’t know goth girls came in pom-poms.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to step around him. He moved with you.

“Relax,” he said, chuckling. “Just saying hey.”

“Hey,” you said flatly. “Bye.”

But his hand landed on your thigh, fingers pressing into the exposed skin between your skirt and boot. You froze.

You shifted away, trying to be polite, brushing him off aggressively and mumbled something about needing to make a call.

⸻

You dialed Eddie’s number from the first phone you could find, heart racing, hoping he wasn’t at band practice, hoping he’d answer—

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice came through, warm and scratchy. “Everything okay?”

You almost cried right then.

“Can you come get me?” you whispered. “Please?”

There was a pause. Then: “Where are you?”

⸻

Fifteen minutes later, you were standing outside under a flickering porch light, arms wrapped around yourself in the cold.

Then headlights cut across the lawn.

Eddie’s van pulled up like something out of a dream—loud, unapologetic, just like him. He didn’t park on the curb. He drove straight up the grass, bumping over the edge with zero care for whoever’s lawn it was.

The door opened, and there he was—curls wild, Metallica shirt stretched over his chest, flannel tied around his waist, looking like rebellion personified.

He moved fast. Straight to you. His eyes scanned your face, then your body, checking for damage like he didn’t trust your silence.

“Hey, baby,” he said gently, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek. “You okay?”

You nodded, but it was shaky.

He opened the passenger door for you like it was second nature. Like you were something precious. “Get in. I’ll be right back.”

“Eddie—don’t—”

But he was already walking.

⸻

You watched from the van, fingers clenched around your thighs.

Inside, the music dipped and then spiked. Voices rose. Someone shouted. You saw shadows move, someone stumbling back into a wall. A glass hit the ground and shattered. Trish peeked out the front door, saw the van, and narrowed her eyes.

Then Eddie was back, jaw tight, a small red scrape on one knuckle.

He slammed the driver’s side door and didn’t speak for a minute. Just sat there, gripping the wheel like it was the only thing tethering him to Earth.

Finally, he exhaled.

“He won’t be touching anyone for a while,” he said, voice low. “Might be limping. Might be seeing double. But he got the message.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart hurt with the way he was looking at the windshield like it had betrayed him.

“I didn’t kill him,” he added dryly. “In case you were wondering.”

You reached over and took his hand.

His eyes finally met yours, and softened immediately.

“You hungry?” he asked.

⸻

He took you to the diner on the edge of town. The one that was never full but never empty either. Vinyl booths, checkered floors, a jukebox that only half-worked. It smelled like syrup and grease and safety.

Eddie ordered two milkshakes—strawberry, with extra whipped cream on yours—and a plate of fries to split. The waitress, an older woman with a kind smile and a teased perm, didn’t blink twice at your mismatched looks.

You sat in the far booth by the window. Outside, Hawkins felt far away. Just neon lights and darkness.

“I don’t belong there,” you said finally.

He looked up.

“I never did. I thought maybe… if I tried hard enough. If I wore the skirt and tied my hair and smiled like they do. But I’m just a paper doll in the wrong set.”

Eddie didn’t say anything right away. He let that sit.

Then, softly: “You’re not a paper doll. You’re a fucking firecracker. And they hate that they can’t snuff you out.”

You blinked hard. Swallowed.

“You know,” he said after a minute, “you don’t have to keep doing this.”

You looked up.

“Cheer. The squad. All of it. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

You smiled, small and tired. “It’s for college.”

“You’ll get into college just fine without pretending to be like them.”

He reached across the table and ran his thumb over your knuckles, slow and careful like he thought you might flinch.

“I’d tell everyone,” he said after a beat. “About us. Right now. I don’t care who knows.”

“I know.”

“You’re not hiding me, are you?”

You looked at him. At the mess of curls and soft brown eyes, his smile that started slow and crooked. The way he always leaned in like he couldn’t help himself. At the boy who opened car doors and punched jocks for you.

“No,” you said. “I’m just… keeping you mine.”

His eyes flickered. Like maybe he wasn’t expecting that. Like maybe it cracked something open in him.

He lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Soft. Reverent.

⸻

Later, he drove you home with your hand on his thigh and your head against the window. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, like he wasn’t afraid of being seen.

And for the first time, you kind of didn’t care if anyone did see.

⸻

[iamlostandinneedofcoffee]

I like to imagine that every once in a while Red Hood just goes off comms for long stretches of time and comes back bruised as shit and exhausted before logging off for the night and the rest of bat brigade is trying to figure out which villain of the week keeps jumping him.

Eventually they, cause communication is a skill no one learned, just start harassing hood’s men to find out whose turf they are invading only to find out they thought the bats were beefing with Red again cause he keeps mumbling about brats.

Now they are trying to find out which one of them is lying about fucking with Jason and no one is owning up, the trackers they keep putting on him are fizzling out, no one as any idea and Jason ain’t saying shit. But like he’s never properly irritated about it or asks for help nor can they find anything out so they let it go for now (read keep trying to track him to no avail).

And then one night Red Robin comes across Red getting chased and then fighting off a feral looking teenager on the roofs of Crime Alley and just when he looks like he is getting the upper hand another drops down from above (how the fuck the nearest taller building is not anywhere near close enough to dive into the fight from what the fuck?!?) and joins the brawl.

Tim is about to rush in to help Jason before the two teens’ heads turn in unison to him with Lazarus green eyes and look like cats when they see a red dot. Jason panics and before he can grab them, they leap and now Tim is in a cartoon brawl dust cloud and all and Jason has joined in and is calling them all brats and how his gunna whop their ass- and there is a foot in his mouth.

And yet through it all Tim never feels afraid. In fact, as he fights he realises they are keeping up and beating him all whilst smiling and punning(?!? They must never meet dick SHIT DUCK) and that won’t fucking do, so he brings out all his tools and tricks and is getting matching by two raccoon twins. 20 minutes later they are all grinning bloody smiles and just as he is about to slam his bo staff up into into the female looking twin, a whistle is blown.

They all freeze and look over in unison as if they all became shining quadruplets at a giant shit house built fucking man. And like Tim has seen big men. Bane is a big mother fucker. Superman is a big mother fucker, and is also shaped like one. Bats is big but this guy even though his is maybe not as large he feels infinitely more terrifying and that’s before you get to the flaming(fucking literally, how does that even work or stay in the pony tail) white hair.

“Alright enough for tonight or foods gunna go cold. Inside.” A voice bellows across the roof before the man disappears??!? At the mention of food the one top of Tim almost starts drooling, gets up and starts dragging Tim’s still prone body across the roof and off of it OH FUCK AND INTO A WALL WHA and they went through it… well

A couple second later Jason and the other dude stumble in. Jason picks Tim up as he is coming down from that mini adrenaline rush at and puts a arm around Tim, half hug half chokehold, saying “say nothing and you get to join once a week. Say shit and you’re haunted.” And walks off to the kitchen and starts bringing out food.

… safe to say the rest of the bats are now confused why Tim of all people is now turning up bruised as well with Jason, cause if it was him to start why has he started loosing all of a sudden??? And he says fuck all but his weapons and fighting style has got more chaotic and terrifying.

Oh and he seems to be eating… well you win some and lose some

[arthemis005]

Wrong Person

The bar was crowded, the vibrant music filling the air, and the lights flickered in colorful tones. You looked around, trying to distract yourself. After a tough week at university, all you wanted was to relax and enjoy the night with your best friend, Mina.

However, your plans quickly changed when Mina became enchanted by a guy—tall, handsome, and clearly interested in her.

“Go talk to him!” you encouraged her. It was obvious she wanted to.

“We came here to unwind. I’m not going to leave you alone,” she hesitated.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. We came here to have fun, so go get him, girl,” you smiled, giving her a little push.

She smiled back before making her way toward him.

Not long after, they disappeared into a more private area, out of your sight. Now alone, you tried not to let it bother you. It was true that you had told Mina you didn’t mind, but in reality, the last thing you wanted was to be alone. You attempted to distract yourself—scrolling through your phone, observing the people around you—and, since you were at a bar, you figured you might as well get a drink.

The first one went down easily. The second did too. Before you knew it, the third was on its way. The bitter taste of alcohol barely registered as you focused on feeling less out of place.

However, as the alcohol took effect, a wave of dizziness hit you. The voices around you blurred together, the music pounded in your head, and suddenly, everything felt distant. You tried texting Mina, letting her know you wanted to leave since she was your ride, but after waiting a few minutes with no response, you figured she wouldn’t see your message anytime soon.

The discomfort grew, and you suddenly realized how vulnerable you were. Not knowing what else to do, you decided the right thing was to text your brother so he could come pick you up.

Fumbling with your phone, you scrolled through your contacts. After some difficulty, you finally tapped on his name and typed a message.

"Hey, Eiji. I’m at the bar, and I’m not feeling great. I think I drank too much… Can you come pick me up?"

His response came almost immediately.

"Coming."

You noticed his reply was unusually short. He was usually much more affectionate over text, but maybe he was just annoyed that he had to come pick up his little sister at 2 a.m.

Even so, you sighed in relief. You really didn’t want to be there anymore.

A few minutes later, you spotted a familiar blond-haired boy at the bar’s entrance. His eyes scanned the room, searching, until they locked onto yours. You tried to smile, but with the alcohol clouding your system and your mind in a haze, you figured you probably weren’t doing a great job of it.

He walked over quickly, his expression calm—no sign of judgment.

“Hey, let’s get out of here,” Katsuki said, placing his hands gently on your shoulders.

He started leading you outside, but as soon as you stepped out of the bar, you pulled away, stopping in your tracks and looking at him, annoyed.

“Where do you think you’re taking me? You can’t just drag me anywhere just because you’re Eijiro’s best friend.”

He sighed, turning back to face you.

“You texted me to come pick you up, dumbass.”

You stared at him, confused.

“What? No, I didn’t. I texted my brother.”

Too impatient to deal with you in your drunken state, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and held it up, showing you the message history. And there it was—the same message you thought you had sent to your older brother had actually been sent to his best friend. Your cheeks flushed as you realized your mistake.

“Can we go now?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You simply nodded.

He turned his back to you and walked toward his car. Now that you were calmer, you took a proper look at him. He was dressed in comfortable clothes, his shirt slightly crooked—almost as if he had rushed out of the house without even bothering to fix it.

Was he really that worried about you?

The thought lingered in your hazy mind as you followed him to the car. Katsuki wasn’t the type to drop everything for just anyone. He was blunt, impatient, and rarely went out of his way unless it was for someone he truly cared about.

Had he really rushed out just because of your message?

Your gaze drifted back to his slightly disheveled appearance—the messy hair, the crooked shirt, the way his jaw was set, like he was annoyed but still here. Still making sure you were okay.

Maybe, just maybe, he cared more than he let on.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, Bakugou opened the passenger door and waited for you to get in. Obediently, you did as he wanted and sat down. You watched as he walked around the car and got in himself.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”

He nodded. “If you need to throw up or something, tell me. I don’t want you messing up my car.”

You smiled at his words. It was no surprise to anyone that his car was his most prized possession. But now that you were finally inside it, you understood why. The car was immaculate. Not a single speck of dust, the leather seats looked brand new, and the faint scent of something fresh—maybe citrus or mint—lingered in the air. It was the kind of car you’d expect from someone as meticulous as Bakugou.

You let your fingers glide over the armrest absentmindedly, still feeling the slight buzz from the alcohol in your system. “I get it now,” you murmured.

Bakugou glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Get what?”

“Why you’re so obsessed with this car. It’s… nice,” you admitted.

He scoffed, but you could see the corner of his lips twitching upward, as if he were suppressing a smirk. “Damn right it is.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as he drove, the soft hum of the engine filling the space. The city lights blurred past the window, and despite the night not going as planned, a strange warmth spread through your chest.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that, even though you had texted the wrong person, Bakugou still came for you.

Not long after, he finally reached your place. Parking the car, he stepped out and walked over to help you.

“Here we go,” he muttered as he steadied you, guiding you up the stairs to the apartment you shared with your brother.

Fumbling with your keys, you unlocked the door and stumbled inside, leaving it open so Bakugou could follow.

“Isn’t Eijiro home?” he asked, glancing around.

You looked around as well, but there was no sign of your brother.

“Oh, that’s right. He’s spending the night at a classmate’s place to finish a project,” you said, suddenly remembering.

“I see,” he muttered.

“Katsuki, can you help me get to my room?” you asked, pointing in its direction.

He nodded and led you there, steadying you when you stumbled slightly. Once inside, you grabbed your pajamas and made your way to the bathroom.

Bakugou sat on the edge of your bed, waiting patiently for you to return. Normally, he would have just left. But for some reason, he was still here.

And strangely, that was comforting.

As the warm water ran over your face, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering dizziness in your head. Slowly, you changed into your pajamas, exhaustion settling deep into your body. The night had been overwhelming, but knowing that Bakugou was still there, waiting, made it feel a little less lonely.

When you stepped back into your room, he was still sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up, his sharp eyes scanning you quickly before nodding in approval.

“Feel better?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, much better.”

He stood up, stretching slightly. “Alright, then. I should probably—”

“Stay,” you interrupted before you could stop yourself.

He froze, raising an eyebrow at you.

You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “I mean… just for a bit. You don’t have to, but—”

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes, but instead of leaving, he sat back down. “Fine. Just until you fall asleep.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you climbed into bed, pulling the covers over you. Bakugou leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, looking like he wasn’t planning to move anytime soon.

The room was quiet except for the occasional sounds of the city outside. The only light came from the moon, casting a soft glow over Bakugou’s face. He looked ethereal—almost unreal—and something shifted inside you.

Sensing your gaze on him, he turned to you. “You know, to sleep, you actually need to close your eyes, idiot,” he muttered.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or something else, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Thank you for coming to help me,” you whispered, shifting a little closer to him, seeking warmth.

“Whatever. You’re my best friend’s little sister—I couldn’t just leave you there, dumbass.”

You smiled and, before you could think twice, moved even closer.

“What are you—” Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant. But before you could fully savor it, he pulled away. You looked at him, confused.

“Look… you’re drunk. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret tomorrow,” he said, looking away—but you caught the redness creeping onto the tips of his ears.

You smiled, nodding in understanding before curling up under the blankets. Your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion and alcohol finally catching up to you.

Just as you drifted off, you felt the mattress shift slightly, a warmth settling beside you.

Maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t texted the wrong person after all.

[hellsslibrary]

I have a request for you!! How about a Sae being fucked after he lost a match and frustrated he fights with the reader, one thing leads to another and he ends up crying while the reader penetrates him.

CAN YOU DO IT PLEASE, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT VERY MUCH, I DON'T SPEAK ENGLISH, I SPEAK SPANISH, BUT I LOVE WHAT YOU WRITE.

Thanks!

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : hey, bitches. Don't ask where I've been, you can assume that life has been too good and I've been in heaven for the last... A couple months(?) and I have 89 requests. I'll do them, yeah. I'll try, really hard. I'll do a couple today. ,

!!Warnings: top!male!reader, bottom!Sae, Sae is slightly more dominant but there's no dom/sub, crying (obviously), by the way, it's mostly hurt/comfort, not sexual contact, but a little later in the beginning and at the very end it's still there (I was drawn to something more tragic, and I also just can't imagine Sae crying during sex, so I did it emotionally), pretty wholesome overall!!

"You... regret giving that ball away, huh?" The question escapes your lips as Sae rewinds the footage of his match for the thirty-seventh time, probably trying to get something across to you, himself, or both of you.

"No regrets. I'm annoyed. If I knew that striker was that bad..." Sae sighs, running a hand through his hair, and then turns his gaze to you.

And his eyes are surprisingly thoughtful as he pokes your chest lightly and then just pushes you, causing your figure to fall onto the couch, and he is hovering over you, stroking the curve of your chin.

"You're going to fuck me... Now," Sae says it a little hesitantly, not wanting to force you to do anything, especially just out of spite, but his eyes immediately widen when you switch him and you, instead pressing him to the couch.

And here we are...

"You're always so tight after matches, you know?" a rhetorical question escapes your lips and you feel Sae's palm on your ass squeeze.

"All my muscles are tense... It's normal," Sae mutters, looking down, watching how your cock disappears and reappears inside him.

And this time, for some reason, it really fascinates him. The older Itoshi exhales sharply, looking up at your face, which immediately becomes slightly worried when you see his clouded gaze... Which shouldn't have appeared in the first round.

"Is it okay? We can stop or..." you stop your movements, but squeak when you feel his heel kicking your thigh, and you resume the pace, and he just shakes his head and whispers: "It's okay, really. Don't be an idiot, you haven't fucked me properly yet."

Sae's voice twitched slightly at the end, when the head of your dick rested exactly where it should. And his hands instinctively grabbed your shoulders, pressing your body into his own and his breath caught when he felt your warm, rapid breath on the skin of his neck.

That fucking moment with the ball continues to spin in his head. That cocky smile of that brunette when he said he would score. His own perfect, beautiful pass... And that one-celled bastard sends the ball fifteen meters beyond the net.

Why does he really care so much? He shouldn't care, it's not his fault he trusted that idiot. He would have stuck with Sae anyway, but there was still a feeling of anxiety in his heart back then, a feeling of fucking insecurity that he least wanted to feel now. Right now, he should feel amazing when you penetrate him, hug you, kiss you, listen to your stupid compliments and let you know how good he feels.

But he couldn't.

He thought it would make him get rid of everything. Of course it feels good. Who wouldn't feel good when their man holds them so carefully and does all this to their body? But this... It's just not like usual.

Sae feels an unpleasant lump in his throat, which he can't swallow, and a traitorous sob escapes his lips. His shoulders are shaking. The legs wrapped around your hips fall. And his cold hands immediately cover his face.

You stop immediately, not expecting him to cry. Well, not during sex, obviously. Does it hurt? Or maybe he doesn't like it? Are you overdoing it? You...

"Get out of me."

Four quiet words break you out of your thoughts and you immediately pull out your dick and Sae removes one hand from his face, which was already tear-stained, his eyes and nose turned bright red and he looked into your eyes.

"What happened? Did I do something wrong, Sae?" you ask hesitantly, and he just shakes his head and kisses the corner of your lips so that you don't worry too much, and then buries his face in your chest, just shaking and soaking your T-shirt with tears.

"I don't know why I'm crying," the Japanese mumbles, clinging to you like a cat clinging to a radiator in winter. He seeks comfort in you, such a rare, but such a necessary consolation for the shaky balance in his soul.

You just hug him and kiss the top of his head, burying his face in the midfielder's disheveled hair, starting to rock him in your arms and humming some melody. Even if it was stupid or you couldn't sing and it sounded out of tune. Just to let Sae know he wasn't alone, to affect almost all of his senses.

"... Do you want me to beat him up?" You ask as the shaking in his shoulders subsides slightly, though the crying continues judging by the liquid seeping through the fabric onto your chest.

"Seriously? If I tell you to kill him, you will?" He asks, wiping his face, exhaling shakily, trying to catch his breath and then looking up at you.

"Only if you visit me in prison."

Sae snorts at this, but says nothing, because words are unnecessary here. Completely unnecessary, his hands fall on your shoulders and he climbs into your lap, looking into your eyes, and then kisses the tip of your nose.

"I will."

You blush slightly at this, which makes Sae smile a little, almost imperceptibly. Just a slight upturn of the corners of her lips, and then it turns into something more sly.

"I owe you, don't I?"

He asks and you twitch as he takes your now semi-hard cock and lifts his hips, rubbing the rim of it right against the head.

"What? Sae— Fuck!" You breathe out, grabbing his hips as he sits down on your cock in one easy motion... Well, at least you comforted the man you love, right?

"Relax. It's your turn to cry, love," Sae mumbles, leaning down to your neck, kissing the crook of your shoulder and neck, starting to move his hips in a figure eight, and your cock immediately begins to harden again, causing Sae to only moan in pleasure.

[sacr1ficialang3l]

Somewhere in the thoroughfare˚୨୧⋆｡ 

OLDER!DEAN WINCHESTER X YOUNGER!READER

SUMMARY: Dean and reader embark on a journey to see the west. They drive for hours upon hours, but reader knows the perfect way to distract Dean for a while. 2.9k

WARNINGS: smut (MDNI). oral m receiving. getting a blow job while driving. do not try this at home kids. age gap.

NOTES: Daddy is back! It took me a long time because I haven't been very inspired lately, sorry I disappeared for a bit. I am still not an expert in writing smut, I will learn one day I promise. Anyway, another one of my little self-indulgent fantasies for you all. As always, English is not my first language. Enjoy<3

Summer this year was hot and sticky, all humid air and warm sunlight.

It had been miraculously quiet in the supernatural world for the past few weeks, and Dean decided it was the perfect time to take his pretty girl for vacation. He had noticed that you were a little down lately, a little less smiley and your eyes a little less sparkly. You were good at hiding it, but Dean knew that the hunting life was hard on you sometimes. He had gotten used to it after so many years, barely feeling the ache in his bones and the weight on his shoulders anymore, but when he held you in his arms while you cried your pretty eyes out one night, he decided you two needed a break.

He got his credit card ready, picturing five-star hotels and bustling city nights. He was even willing to board a plane just for you. Anything for his sweet girl. So one night, when he was letting you talk about your favorite pop artists—

"So, this Taylor Swift album–"

"Oh, please. Don’t torture me like this, princess. I swear music died in the '90s."

"Shut up and listen, old man. Let me introduce you to peak lyricism."

He interrupts you and explains his plan, asking you to choose any destination.

Imagine his surprise when instead of asking for anything he thought, you chose a road trip.

“Really, sweetheart? All we do is be on the road.”

“I know, but never without the burden of hunting. I wanna drive around with you, no guns or monsters, just us and your other baby.”

“Aren’t you tired of it? Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled not to get into a plane, but this is for you. We can go anywhere you want, baby.”

“I could never get tired of it. In your car, with all of your dumb luck, is the only place I’ll ever wanna be.”

Dean stares at you for a long moment, eyes a little clouded with something intense, something that makes your insides burn.

“How can you be so perfect?” that makes you giggle, biting your lip and looking up at your boyfriend. “So, where are we going, love?”

“I don’t really care as long as you're with me.”

“Come on. There must be somewhere you wanna go, anywhere.”

“What about Oregon? Oh, but I would also love to drive down Big Sur with you. But what about–”

You were interrupted by Dean’s gruff laughter.

“I think I get the point. We have no time limit, I know how we can visit all the places you want.”

Dean grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him, letting his hands –so callused from his pistol– brush down your lower back as he pulled you as close as possible.

“Come see the west with me, sweetheart.”

You are somewhere in north Oregon, almost in Washington. You had tried to convince Dean to take you to Forks, but the moment the word Twilight came out of your mouth he refused. (He ends up driving you there a week later, begrudgingly letting you take the aux and play Paramore the whole time you are in there.)

It is one week into your vacation, and the summer heat has only gotten worse. You and Dean are driving down a lonely road towards a little cabin you rented—it was in the middle of the woods and looked extremely homey. You were thrilled when you found it, even though explaining to Dean how Airbnb worked was an ordeal, considering he had only ever stayed in shitty motels without ever making a reservation or entering credit cards in some website.— You are planning to stay there for at least a week before resuming your journey to California.

So right now, you two are surrounded only by the trees, the setting sun, and the extremely hot air. The wind through the window is thick and muggy, clinging to your skin as you rest across the front seat of the Impala. Your socked feet dig into Dean’s thigh, and your head dangles out the window, hair catching the breeze, whipping gently around your face. Your eyes are closed while you tap your hand against your bare leg along with the beat of one of Dean’s rock songs, enjoying the way one of his hands is wrapped around your ankle.

You still find it astonishing that even in this weather, Dean is wearing his usual jeans and black shirt. At least you had convinced him to drop the flannel. You are the complete opposite, dressed in short shorts that barely hit your upper thigh and a white tank top with no bra on. You told him it was because wearing one made you sweat more when he asked, but the truth is that you liked the way Dean stared at the outline of your nipple piercings through the thin material of your almost translucent top, eyes hungry and feral.

You tilt your head up to look at your boyfriend when he starts singing along, his voice barely audible over the wind on your ears. There he is, knowing every lyric of a song released many years before you were born, his crow's feet even more pronounced as a relaxed smile settled on his face, the rough skin of his fingers brushing up and down your calf.

He catches you looking at him, and he gives you one of his signature smug grins.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

“Oh, definitely.” You say flirtily, pulling your head back inside of the car and half-closing your window to eliminate some of the whistling.

Dean chuckles, and once again, you’re struck by how incredibly handsome he is. His elbow rests casually on the edge of his open window as he grips the steering wheel with ease. The setting sun casts a warm glow over him, making his green eyes practically glow. The veins on his forearms stand out, and the black shirt clings tightly to his chest and biceps.

At the end of the day, you are just a girl, so you lean forward and sink your teeth into the strong muscle of his arm. God, it was so big, almost as big as your head. Dean hisses a bit at the pain but doesn’t pull away, too used to your shenanigans.

“Is this what vampire movies did to your generation?” He grumbles when you let go of his flesh, but his expression softens when he hears you giggle while you admire your work.

There’s a deep set of teeth marks on his bicep—a perfect imprint of your canines. He pretended to be annoyed when you bit him, but he actually relished in bearing your mark. Because he is as yours as you are his.

“Nope, you’re just biteable.”

That makes him snort and shake his head fondly. You look at him again, now closer, and you have to bite your lip at how hot your boyfriend is. This older, experienced, kind, sweet man… all for you. You are so lucky.

A great idea strikes you. You check the GPS on your phone, (Dean refused to use it, saying that he knew how to find his way everywhere with just a map) According to it, you’ve got at least another hour on this empty road. Perfect.

You shuffle around in the bench seat of the Impala until the point of your feet are pressed against the car door, knees bent comfortably as you let your head fall down into Dean’s lap. He is a little startled at first, sending you a confused look. But you simply beam at him sweetly, staring into his eyes from between his torso and the steering wheel. He laughs, brushing some hair out of your face with his free hand.

You wait for a few minutes before putting your plan into action. The moment Dean’s eyes are extra focused on the road, his fingers drumming along to some song you think is by Led Zeppelin (you are learning, for him), you tilt your head to the side and press your cheek against his crotch.

Dean’s movements halt for a second, and he sends you a warning look.

“What do you think you're doing, sweetheart?”

You say nothing, giggling softly and nuzzling against his clothed dick again. The fabric of the denim was rough, and it burned your skin just right. You start to feel how Dean slowly starts to harden under you, and you start to leave soft kisses all over his upper thighs and over the growing bulge.

“Baby, I am serious.” He calls out your name when you don’t stop. “I am driving, for god's sake.”

You catch the edge of the waistline of his jeans in between your teeth, pulling at it softly before you look up at Dean, all doe eyes and fluttering lashes.

“You’ve been driving for hours. Let me give you a little thank-you, baby.”

Dean groans, both his hands now in the steering wheel, like he was scared to lose control. He licks his lips, thinking for a moment with an almost pained expression.

“You’re so… I’m gonna lose my damn mind.” He murmurs, more to himself than to you. “I won’t stop you, but just know that if we crash against some fucking tree it will be your fault.”

You giggle and proceed to unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper. You lick a long strip across his now completely hard cock over his boxers. It makes Dean’s breath hitch, and his hips twitch subtly under you. You keep mouthing at the bulge over the thin fabric of the underwear until it is completely soaked with spit.

“Come on, darling.” Dean grunts. “Don’t be a tease.”

You use your hands to pull his erection out of his underwear. It is a little cramped and less than ideal in the small space you have, but you manage to pull his pants down enough so that his cock stands proudly in front of you, long and hard and wet with your spit.

You shift in the seat of the impala once again until you are laying on your stomach, feet kicking in the air playfully as if you were doing the most innocent of things instead of about to blow your boyfriend while he drove.

You brush your tongue against the throbbing tip of Dean’s dick, collecting the precum already there into your mouth. You hear Dean groan distantly, but your head was getting a little hazy already. You loved sucking Dean’s cock. He fit so right in your mouth, the weight and taste of him in your tongue so perfect that you felt dizzy with it. You could spend hours with him nuzzled against your throat, suckling and swallowing around him.

You give kitten licks to the whole length, getting him sloppy and ready. The moment the tip slides in between your lips, Dean lets out the first low moan. It was heavy and husky, and you absolutely loved it. You take him deeper into your mouth, starting to bop your head up and down.

“Fuck, yes. So good, so– ah, so fucking good for me, baby.”

You can feel his eyes on you, and you lean away slightly, his cock sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.

“Eyes on the road, Dean.” There is a string of saliva connecting your lips and Dean’s dick, and the image makes him curse, his jaw clenching as his eyes flick back up.

You take him inside your mouth again, deeper this time. You breathe in through your nose before you sink in further, until he hits the back of your throat. It makes Dean grunt loudly, but it quickly turns into an extended moan as the warm walls of your throat contract around him.

“Mmnh— you feel so good, baby. You were made for this. Such a tight, warm little mouth just for me. Such, ah, such a good girl, taking my cock so deep. Fuck.”

Dean’s knuckles are white where he is holding the wheel for dear life. You hum at the praises, and Dean lets out a choked whine at the vibrations that throbbed through his length, cock twitching and more precum dribbling out of his tip.

You feel your mind spin a little at Dean’s words and the sweet feeling of him so deeply settled into your mouth. You brush your tongue against the underside of his cock, and it is messy. You’re almost desperate with it, drool dribbling past your lips and down Dean’s balls. He hiss at the feeling and throws his head back for just one second before his eyes return to the road.

“You love cock so much, don’t you?” He growls, strangled. “So fucking sloppy and messy. My pretty girl all needy for me.”

You whimper around him at his words, and you start to suck with renewed vigour. Slurping around Dean’s length and letting out pleased noises every time he hit the back of your throat. He keeps murmuring filthy words at you, fighting the way his hips desperately wanted to thrust into your mouth.

Seriously, you are lucky he has so much self control and doesn’t end up flipping the car.

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. I’m– a-ah, I'm close. Make me come in your mouth, baby.”

You pull back a bit, wanting Dean to come on your tongue— you want to taste it, savor the way it coats your tongue with a flavor that you can only describe as Dean. You use your fist to jerk whatever is left out of your mouth, and when your tongue presses into his slit, his cock pulses and he comes.

Dean’s groan is guttural and desperate, fighting to keep his eyes open and his hands firmly on the wheel. Thick ropes of cum fall onto your tongue, and you let out a contented little hum. You lap it all up, eyes rolling back in satisfaction. You swallow around his cock, prolonging his orgasm and making him twitch one last time. Even after he stops coming, you keep suckling around the head of his cock. Dean hisses in overstimulation.

“That’s enough, princess.” He pants, pulling you away by the hair. The combination of the pain and the lack of dick makes you whine. “Stop, or I am seriously crashing the car.”

You lick your lips as you try to catch your breath. You somehow look even worse than Dean did, eyes teary and lips puffy. There was spit dripping down your chin and your breathing was ragged. Your cheek is red and itchy where it rubbed against his jeans, but you love the feeling.

You blink at Dean twice, the fog in your mind slowly dissipating and a proud little grin taking over your face instead.

“I love the way you taste.” You murmur dreamily, and it makes Dean glare at you as he groans.

“You need to stop saying things like that before I pull over and fucking ravish you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You wink at him, moving until you are sitting correctly on the car seat.

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes, but there is a pleased smile on his face. He looks somehow even sexier now, the post-orgasm glow turning his eyes shinier and adding an edge to his grin.

Fuck, you still couldn’t believe all that was yours.

You sigh, opening the glove box and pulling out some tissues. Dean has already put himself back into his pants, so you wipe the last traces of spit off your face. Your throat feels a little raw, so you turn and bend over the backrest of the front seat to reach the cooler Dean keeps in the back.

“Fuck, you’re a hazard while driving.”

You grab a water bottle when you feel him slap your ass. The sharp sting spreads through you, heat prickling every nerve. You sit back down with a huff, turning to him with an incredulous expression.

“What?”

Dean shrugs, trying —and failing— to look innocent, his smirk betraying him.

“Come on. You can’t bend over like that and not expect it. I’m only human after all, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, but an endeared smile takes over your face.

“Why do I keep you around again?”

A day later, you are sitting outside of the rented cabin with Dean next to you, surrounded by nothing but nature. You made him a simple flower crow with some daisies and baby’s breath you’d found in a clearing nearby. It took plenty of begging, pouting, and soft kisses to convince him to wear it, but once it was on, he hadn’t taken it off.

The days pass in a blur of quiet moments—early mornings spent sipping coffee on the cabin’s porch, evenings filled with whiskey, laughter and many more of those old-man stories you loved so much. And of course, a lot more sex.

Weeks later, after countless motel rooms and small-town diners, you find yourselves standing on the coast. you are near the beach, where the salty breeze mingled with the sound of crashing waves, and the sun hangs warm and golden overhead. Dean stands behind you, strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you back against his chest, chin resting against the top of your head.

And right there, in that perfect moment, when Dean turns you around softly and presses his lips to yours, you know exactly why you keep him around.

Because there’s no one else out there for you. Dean Winchester—old enough to be your father, a big bad hunter carrying more baggage than most could bear, with a neon sign flashing 'trouble' on his forehead—is the love of your life.

NOTES: I am trying my best with the smut pls be nice. Another ode to sucking dick by me (I am a virgin if it wasn't clear by now).

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera @xoswiftieprincess <3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[tetragonia]

Midnight Surprise

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

That time you were surrounded by creepy guys after a night shift and a hero just came out to save the day.

warning: some catcalls, threats (not to you), nothing really

note: just Rafe being Rafe before turning into a plushie. guys ik his character is bad and not 'misunderstood' but Drew Starkey is really hot and maybe I can fix Rafe

words: 1k

It was late, later than you should’ve been out alone, but you were too stubborn to ask for a ride or accept help. The streets of The Cut had a way of feeling different after dark, even to someone as tough as you. You wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself, your eyes scanning the familiar but suddenly ominous corners of your neighborhood.

You were on your way home after a long shift at the bar, your feet sore and your mind clouded with frustration. The drama between you and the Pogues had been wearing on you, leaving you feeling like you didn’t fit anywhere. Even as you replayed your argument with John B in your head, something nagged at you from the edges of your awareness—footsteps, just behind you, growing closer.

Your shoulders tensed as you heard the low mutterings of a few guys not far behind you. You didn’t turn around, didn’t react, but your instincts screamed at you that they were following you. You picked up your pace, your heartbeat quickening, trying to stay calm. But it was clear you weren’t alone.

“Hey, girlie, where you think you’re going?” one of the guys called out, his voice dripping with sleaze. They were Pogues, but not the kind you hung out with—these were the lowlifes who lurked in the shadows, looking for easy prey.

“Just keep walking,” you muttered to yourself, your grip tightening around your bag. You were used to handling yourself, always had been. But there were four of them, and they were closing in fast.

One of them cut you off, stepping in front of you with a cocky grin. “You’re not too good for us, are you? How about you show a little gratitude?”

You glared at him, your temper flaring despite the situation. “Get out of my way.”

“Oh, feisty. We like that,” another one chuckled, moving closer from behind.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the fear creeping in, even though you refused to show it. You were preparing yourself to fight—you weren’t about to go down without a struggle—but before you could even react, a familiar voice broke through the tense moment.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” that voice was cold, dark, and unmistakable.

Your head whipped around just as Rafe Cameron stormed over from the shadows, his tall frame towering over the group of guys. His face was twisted in anger, his eyes blazing as he zeroed in on the lowlife who had stepped closest to you.

The guy who had been smirking only seconds before suddenly looked less confident. “Hey, man, we were just—”

“Just what?” Rafe cut him off, stepping even closer, his aggression palpable. “You think you can mess with her? Huh? You want to see how that ends?”

You stood frozen, your pulse racing, but not because of fear anymore. You hadn’t expected to see Rafe—especially not like this. His fury was directed entirely at them, and the look in his eyes was enough to make even you uncomfortable.

The guys hesitated, but Rafe didn’t give them a chance to backtrack. He shoved one of them, hard, sending him stumbling backward.

“You touch her again, I swear to God, you won’t leave here standing,” Rafe growled, his fists clenched, his entire body radiating aggression.

The group of guys quickly realized they were outmatched. One of them muttered something under his breath before turning to leave, the others following quickly behind, throwing nervous glances at Rafe over their shoulders. Within moments, they disappeared into the shadows, leaving you and Rafe standing alone in the now-quiet street.

Rafe was still breathing heavily, his fists flexing at his sides, the adrenaline clearly coursing through him. He turned to look at you, his expression softening slightly when he met your eyes.

“You okay?”

His voice was gruff, but there was something else there—concern, maybe even protectiveness.

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Rafe took a step closer, the tension still evident in his posture. “They shouldn’t have touched you.”

You blinked, surprised by the intensity in his voice.

“I could’ve handled it,” you said, though it sounded less convincing than you intended.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching slightly into the smallest hint of a smirk, “Oh, I know you could’ve. But I wasn’t about to let them try.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. This was Rafe Cameron, the guy you’d spent most of your time avoiding or arguing with. He was supposed to be the bad guy in your world—ruthless, cruel, manipulative. But tonight, in this moment, he wasn’t any of those things.

He had saved you, protected you, and that reality was unsettling.

“Thanks,” you muttered, not meeting his eyes, still processing what had just happened.

Rafe shrugged, trying to play it off, but there was something softer in his gaze now. “Don’t mention it.”

For a moment, there was just silence between them, the tension from earlier slowly fading. The moonlight reflected off the water nearby, casting a silver glow over everything. You found yourself studying Rafe’s face, noticing the weariness etched into his features—the kind of tired that wasn’t just from lack of sleep.

“You okay?” you asked quietly, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe looked at you, surprised, as if no one had asked him that in a long time. His expression softened for a split second, but he quickly masked it with his usual arrogance. “I’m always fine.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no bite in it. You didn’t press him, and he didn’t offer more.

You two stood there for a few moments longer, the night stretching out in front of you both, before Rafe broke the silence.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home.” He didn’t wait for you to agree, just started walking, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

You hesitated for a second, if anything, walking home with Rafe was probably more dangerous than being plastered by those four random guys. But this time, you felt something had shifted; you felt safe and secure beside him. This was strange.

You blinked twice, trying to process your thoughts but your feet moved faster than your brain—they followed Rafe who was a few steps in front of you. You didn’t speak much after that, but there was an odd sense of calm in the air. For the first time, you found yourself wondering if there was more to Rafe than what everyone saw—more than the messed-up, angry guy everyone had written off.

You weren’t sure what to make of it yet, but one thing was certain—Rafe had surprised you tonight. And that was something you couldn’t easily forget.

[sxprot]

KISS ME, KISS ME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED!!

Sprout X Toon!reader (romantic)

--> Also enjoy random hcs, may be ooc lol as we don't know much about their lore. Thanks to all the writers that wrote about Sprout, ily and you all are my biggest inspiration/p

TW: nothing, just fluff or full of lies, bad grammar since my first language aint english, Reader is gn, idk how to write. This is before the ichor infection

--------

At first, when you are created, you weren't known and never been paid attention by the children and adults. Much to say that you're quite a distant type, even though there's a lot of Toons that's wandering around.

And yet, when your popularity has risen, you haven't found yourself talking to any main cast for long. Any attempts of them trying to strike up a conversation with you, only to be left with disappointment as they received nothing but merely a small talk.

Though, you feel close to common Toons, often seen chatting with them and helping their problems, you were known for your friendliness, of course.

And that seems to catch a Toon's attention!

Now now, first of all, he already saw you! Yes, you are well-known by the audiences, everyone adores you, even bought your merchs, plushies.

But he didn't get a chance to talk to you properly, noticing the way you seem to withdraw from the limelight, even when others tried to talk, you just smile and help their problems, later to be found disappearing after you're done.

So honestly! After getting a chance to meet you, it wasn't any better, actually! Even with a simple baking lesson, Sprout feels a bit awkward. And you, already feeling the anxiety building up inside your chest, only to nod sheepishly when Cosmo asked you.

Exchanging around with many waves and small gesture, you found yourself staying until Sprout left(had to, since Cosmo asked him so). You even go and gasp about it, to which your swirl roll friend shrugs, patting your back as a way to comfort.

And yet, Cosmo insists on inviting you two again to taste out his cookies as a way to get along. Many things has happened, along with your feelings for him.

-----

Okay, onto hcs...

Yk, Cosmo do thinks that you needs to make more friends, actually more like getting along with other main characters. He also thinks this as a good opportunity to lets Sprout makes another friend!

I also thought of Sprout faling first, often asking his friend Cosmo for advices on how to impress you, to which he said that Sprout should focus on being himself. Or maybe starting off with cupcakes and cookies...

The strawberry toon sometimes finds himself in his own reverie, thinking about you accepting his confession...Oh, and some domestic moments as a couple as he took care of you...with his sweet, small little love.

That one time when he was chatting with Cosmo, he suddenly saw you with Boxten interacting with each other. If you noticed his gaze and wave at him, he'd be smiling and returning the gesture back! But sometimes, Sprout would trip and hit the wall when he didn't snap out of his daze.

Imagining him confessing his love with cupcakes. The way Sprout would spent his time decorating it, writing in red frosting about him loving you. And if you accept it, he would be surpised and so happy to see you—happily agreeing to be his partner. He was in cloud nine!

"Thank you." He would said, staring at you with such fondness.

Overprotective, really. Golly, even a small boo-boos could makes him a tad bit worried! How did you managed to get yourself in such state? He would ask and tend your wounds, gentle and slow, simply reminding you to be more careful.

Matching bracelets! You, Sprout and Cosmo would made a matching bracelet for each others, haha.

Of course, you are also the first one to taste his baking, and also the first to witness the chaos when he forgot to turns off the oven, leaving the scene for you both to clean.

I hc Sprout also likes to tease you, like imagining him holding a cookie, alright? He would ask you to open your mouth and say "Aaaaaa" as he slowly twirl(?) his hand like an airplane that's flying.

"Stop it, Sprout! I'm not a kid." "Oh, come on, it's fun!"

Also, like the feeling of him planting kisses on your face? After a long day, he would like to kiss you with a content smile on his face, then yapping about his day.

He is just happy that you're his, and that he's yours. He's forever grateful for have meeting you, for you that's always patient with him, for you that's always there with him. Mwah :)

Oml, sorry if it's too ooc. I'm not a professional at dating nor any romantic...gesture? So writing them out was hard.

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | l. felix <3

a/n: another day, another soulmate au :,-) i listened to a lot of jazz while writing this, so i hope you get extra serotonin and comfort from it as a result! i truly cannot resist the precious energy of felix <3333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.4k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!felix x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

your soulmate's birthday and birth time are written on your wrist.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

felix practically threw everything he was carrying the second he stepped through the door, desperate to make it to the kitchen. washing his hands, he glanced at the clock. he tried to calculate how fast he would need to move to finish the cake before midnight. of course, today of all days, his schedules would run over.

he let out a few frustrated noises but quickly gathered the utensils, dishes, and supplies he needed to make the perfect birthday cake. just as he was starting to relax, his hand felt nothing but air in the corner of the cupboard.

“oh no!” felix groaned, “we’re out of sugar!” 

doubting his reality, felix rummaged through the items he spread out over and over (and over) again. no matter how hard he wished, sugar did not materialize in front of him. what did materialize, however, was a cloud of flour. in his haste, felix had knocked into the bag, leaving a nice pile of the powder on the edge of the counter and a few streaks on his shirt. 

“is everything okay?” seungmin called from the doorway, slipping off his shoes beside jeongin.

“no!” felix rushed back out of the kitchen, racing towards the door, “i’ll clean that up later! i gotta go!”

the boys barely avoided a collision with felix as he put on his shoes and grabbed his bag in one fell swoop. felix almost crashed into minho at the building entrance, his apology flying behind him as he ran.

minho chuckled at the sight of felix’s hair whipping back and forth as a result of his fast pace, but then his face fell, “ah! we forgot to buy sugar!”

minho called out felix’s name to offer help. felix had already made it far enough down the road to be out of earshot. minho shrugged and strolled toward his home, curious if felix would reappear as quickly as he had disappeared.

the bell chimed as felix opened the store door, a calm sound clashing with his heaving breaths. he hadn’t the slightest clue how far or fast he had run, but the feeling in his body was reminiscent of how it felt to compete in variety show games. 

he caught his breath just enough to greet the store employee, trying his best to speedwalk to the baking aisle, rather than sprint across the store. when he turned the corner, felix swore he saw a halo around the bag of sugar. he nearly squealed from excitement and relief. it was the last one on the shelf, almost as though it was meant to be. 

at least, that’s what felix thought until another hand grasped the bag of sugar the second his fingertips brushed against it.

“ah, sorry! were you trying to grab this?” you lifted the bag of sugar in your hand, feeling both awkward and obliged to say something to the stranger in front of you.

“oh! uh…” felix shook the stunned look off his face, “yes. i’m so sorry, normally i wouldn’t even think to ask this, but i need that bag of sugar. i’m in the middle of a baking emergency, and i’m running out of time to finish the cake.”

you bit the inside of your cheek to hide your laughter. the person in front of you certainly looked like the poster child for a baking emergency. hair messy from–presumably–running, flour smatterings all over their shirt, and a very sincere look in their eyes when asking for a bag of sugar. they looked both silly and overwhelmingly cute.

you sighed, “now i’m sorry. i wouldn’t usually care about giving up a bag of sugar to someone in need. this time though, i need it. i’m trying to avoid a baking emergency of my own,” you paused, figuring out how to convince this frantic baker that you weren’t lying, “this sounds like a lame excuse, i know, but today’s my birthday. i can’t make myself my usual birthday treat unless i have this sugar, and i’d really like to have some of it before the day’s over.”

felix’s eyes went wide. his expression shifted from disappointment to confusion to deep thought to bewilderment to excitement in 20 seconds. you couldn’t even begin to comprehend what was running through his head, especially when you noticed that he was nearly vibrating with…excitement?

“today’s your birthday?”

you nodded.

“can i see your wrist?”

your brow furrowed, not sure why the first question was about your birthday and the second about your wrist. as your lips formed the word why? it clicked in your head. either in an attempt to conceal your hopefulness or out of disbelief, you stretched your arm out far enough to be in felix’s view. he bent forward, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. you held your breath, waiting for him to say something.

instead of a reply, giggles fell from felix’s lips. he offered his wrist to you, muttering something along the lines of please tell me this is your–i can’t believe this–just looking for the sugar!

his smiles and giggles infected you. both of you seemingly forgot about your time crunch, basking in the happiness you felt at the hands of fate in the baking aisle.

“maybe we can share the sugar? i was about to bake your birthday cake when i ran over here.”

you tilted your head in confusion, still smiling from felix’s gleeful demeanor, “you were baking my birthday cake?”

“yeah!” felix bounced while nodding, “every year since i can remember, i’ve baked you a dessert on your birthday. i wanted to get in as much practice as possible before we met, so i could make your favorite treat on our first birthday together! obviously, i don’t know what your favorite is. i’ve done a lot of different recipes over the years though, so i’m sure i can figure it out, even if it takes me a few tries. i promise i’ll perfect the recipe so it matches your taste exactly! ah, this is great! i can finally show you the recipe book i’ve compiled with everything i’ve tried so far! do you–” felix paused, cheeks blushing when he realized how quickly he was speaking, “sorry, i got a bit excited for a second, didn’t i?”

you laughed, looking at him with nothing but gratitude and fondness, “i love the excitement, and i would love to talk about my favorite treats with you. first though, could you tell me your name?”

felix’s jaw dropped. he couldn’t believe he had forgotten his manners. how could think to ask you about your favorite dessert before asking you for your name?

“yes, of course! i’m felix!” he smiled, eyes twinkling, “what’s your name?”

“i’m y/n,” you smiled back.

“y/n,” he repeated, savoring the way it felt to say your name for the very first time, “y/n, it is so incredibly nice to meet you!”

“it is so incredibly nice to meet you too, felix!”

the two of you stood smiling at each other until felix remembered the original mission that brought him to this store, “well, since it’s getting late, would you want to maybe…come over to my place…so i can bake your birthday cake? i understand if you don’t want to come over! i live up the road, and i would love for you to enjoy a treat that you don’t have to make yourself.”

the sweetness of the man in front of you melted your heart entirely, and you couldn’t resist the surprise of your soulmate making your birthday cake this year. you agreed, prompting felix to rush to the register to pay for the sugar. as he guided you towards his place, he asked you question after question about your favorite treats, how you like your baked goods decorated, what your normal birthday traditions were, and what kind of present you wanted. you matched the speed of his enthusiastic conversation as best as you could, giggling here and there at his passionate reactions to every word you said. it felt entirely surreal to be walking side by side with your soulmate, but here you were.

“oh, y/n?” felix faced you outside his apartment door.

“yes, felix?”

“happy birthday!”

beauty radiated off felix and warmth flooded your senses. while your birthday celebration was starting way later in the day than planned, there was absolutely no better present than this. standing beside felix, who giddily held that fateful bag of sugar, you knew that this would always be your favorite birthday.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[azrielsdove]

Cold Hearts Pt. 3

Warnings: Slight angst, suggestiveness, vulnerability

Pt. 2 Here

***

Azriel couldn’t sleep. He went to her room after their argument, stopping himself from knocking when he heard the sounds of her crying. Oh, he had made such a mess. Did the bond snap for her too? Was she crying because she was fated to someone who had been so mean to her?

No, Azriel. Stop that. He chided himself, remembering her words in the library. “Are you so self centered that you truly believe everything I do is about you?” Maybe he was. Although, she didn’t give him much reason to think her actions weren’t aimed at him. It wasn’t his fault that she never talked to anyone. He groaned, trying to banish that thought from his mind. He needed to stop blaming her for all of this. He had allowed his own feelings to cloud his judgment, never once stopping to think if there was some other reason why she may act so cold.

Azriel looked at his hands, at the scars tracing the skin. Why had she always stared at them in such a disgusted way? He couldn’t figure that one out. He was confused. Painfully confused. His mind ached with the thoughts running through it, wishing he could just forget everything. He couldn’t figure this out on his own.

He had to find Rhysand.

***

Rhys was not pleased when he opened his door in the dead of night to the Shadowsinger. Though the sleep disappeared from his eyes the second he took in the expression on Azriels face. “What has happened?” He demanded, body tensing as he prepared for the worst.

Azriel simply shook his head, suddenly unsure of what to say. “I-“ He started, “I don’t, I don’t actually know what happened.” He felt ashamed, not ready to admit how he’s been acting unfairly for all these years. Her name fell from his mouth, a quiet plea. “I need to know her story.”

Rhysands lips thinned. “That is not mine to share, Azriel.” He sighed at the distraught look on his friends face, running a hand through his hair. “You have to ask her yourself. She hasn’t even talked about it with me in all this time, and I was the one who found her.” Azriel ducked his head, more guilt piling on top of his shoulders. How bad must it have been for her to not be able to talk about it a hundred years later? Rhys clapped a hand on Azriels shoulder, trying to comfort his friend. “She’s not who she pretends to be. Give her a chance, Az. Let her come to you.” Azriel nodded, thanking him before heading back home.

Let her come to you.

***

READER POV

You woke up before the sun, laying awake in your bed as you planned what you were going to say to Azriel. You never spoke about what happened to you, but you knew you had to at least give him some of the story so he could understand. Understand that it wasn’t his scars that upset you, but your own. That he had never wronged you, it is your mind that’s the curse.

You were scared.

You didn’t know how he would react. You never expected that Azriel would be the one you ended up opening up to. You hardly knew him. Maybe that was better. Or was it worse? You groaned and covered your eyes with your hands, wishing you could make your thoughts make sense. How were you supposed to get through a conversation if you couldn’t even think straight?

You pulled yourself out of bed as the sun began to shine over the horizon, dressing to go find Azriel. You knew he tends to rise early, getting early training sessions in before breakfast. That would be where you looked for him first, then.

You took a deep breath and headed to the training ring.

***

You half expected him to not be there. You weren’t sure if you were happy or disappointed to see him when you entered the ring. You paused in the doorway, slightly hidden from his sight. You watched as he practiced, the way his body moved was almost an art. You had never really looked at the Shadowsinger, always too wrapped up in your own head. You felt your heart quicken while you watched, observing the beauty of him in the early morning sun. You watched as he moved, the muscles rippling on his arms, his wings flaring out slightly. His wings. You felt a sharp pain in your heart, seeing the sun shine through them. You felt the ache of where yours used to be, just as beautiful as his.

You had to make your move now or you were going to talk yourself out of it. You stepped forward, giving a little cough to signal your arrival. Azriel halted, spinning towards you like he’d seen a ghost. He said your name like a question, blankly staring at you. You bowed your head, kicking the sand with your foot. Now that you were here you didn’t know how to start.

You swallowed and looked back up to him. “You’re really good at that.” You blurted out, embarrassment instantly coloring your cheeks. “I mean, I knew you were good. I’d just never watched you like that, moving so freely.” His eyes widened slightly as he looked you over, saying nothing. “N-not that I was like, standing here for long. I just wanted to come talk to you, after last night, and I saw you and I didn’t want to interrupt.” You silently cursed. You were rambling. You needed to get it together. You opened your mouth to speak again before shutting it quickly, leaving room for him to respond.

Azriel looked into your eyes, an interesting expression on his face. “Uh, thank you.” He spoke politely, seemingly unsure of how to talk to you. That made the guilt even worse. You looked down again, staring at the ground like you were hoping it would open up and swallow you. You jumped a little as Azriel started speaking again; “I’m sorry, for what I said. It wasn’t fair of me to lash out at you like that.” You looked up in shock, not really expecting him to apologize.

“No, i’m sorry. I see now how my actions made you think I was being unnecessarily cruel. The truth is, I-“, You stopped. You couldn’t do this. You felt your throat closing up, the panic threatening to overtake your body. Azriel seemed to sense it too, stepping close to you.

“Hey, hey, you don’t owe me any explanation. I was only thinking about myself, you were right.” You could tell he wanted to reach out and touch you, comfort you. You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to or not.

You took a breath, clearing your mind. “Azriel,” you started, forcing calm through your body, “I have scars of my own. Like yours.” You looked into his eyes, gauging his reaction.

He nodded, hands fidgeting at his side. “I see.” He said quietly, gaze flitting over your body. “Where at?” The question was barely a whisper, and you almost pretended you didn’t hear.

But that would not be beneficial to anyone.

“Here.” You said softly, turning your back to him and beginning to raise your shirt.

“You don’t have to show me.” He spoke quickly, hands covering yours, stilling their movements. You sucked in a surprised breath at the contact, mind going temporarily blank.

“It’s okay. I want you to see.” You finally said, pulling your hands out from under his. “You can lift it the rest of the way.”

You shivered as the morning breeze ran over your newly exposed skin, his hands raising the back of your shirt up slowly. You heard the sharp intake of air as he saw the jarring, burnt stumps where your wings used to be. All was quiet for a moment, Azriel taking in the damage in front of him.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was harsh, anger dripping from every word. You were mortified at the fire that ran under your skin at his tone. You pulled away to look at him, taking in his darkened eyes.

“They were dealt with.” Was all you said, not sure how much you were ready to reveal. Azriel could sense your hesitation, giving a curt nod.

“By Rhysand?” He asked.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“Good. I know he didn’t make it pleasant for them.” His eyes were a raging fire.

“It was my father.” You suddenly said, not even realizing you had decided to tell him. “And my soon-to-be-husband.”

If you thought you had seen anger on Azriels face before, you were wrong. Pure rage ran over him, every muscle in his body tensing. You took a small step back in fear, having never seen him like this. “Azriel?” You whispered out, trying to bring him back down.

“Let me see them again.” He commanded, turning you around. You allowed him to lift your shirt again, shuddering when one of his hands lightly traced the scars on your back. “Is this okay?” He whispered, breath fanning over your ear.

You could only nod, unable to handle all the different emotions coursing through you.

Azriels hand traced your scars for what felt like forever, but was probably only a minute. When he was done he pressed both of his hands to your back, letting your shirt fall over all the scars between the two of you. Your skin was tingling at the contact, a part of you never wanting this to end. You didn’t realize that you were sinking back into Azriels touch until his hands slid down and around to your waist, your back hitting his chest.

You jumped away from him, every inch of you buzzing from his hands. What was wrong with you?

You turned to face him, not wanting him to think you were upset. “Sorry I, it’s been- it’s been a long time since anyone has, since I have, I haven’t-“ You stuttered out, your words jumbling together and making no sense. You slid your hands down the front of your shirt, trying to soothe your racing heart. “That’s all to say, uh, I haven’t had much physical contact in a, a long time.” You pushed a piece of your hair out of your face, trying to read Azriel. “Not that, not that I didn’t like it, I just, it’s been…a while.” You wanted to melt into the ground. You were making it so much worse.

He laughed. A warm, welcoming sound. You couldn’t help but smile as he did, feeling warm all the way to the tips of your toes. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone turning serious. “I shouldn’t have kept going, you just seemed so calm and I didn’t want that feeling to fade.”

Oh. Oh. A wave of emotion crashed into you at his words, your vision growing blurry. He cared about you. Somehow, after the way you’ve acted towards him for so long, he cared.

Azriel was too good.

You had to say something, needing to break the silence that was now growing. “The children,” you began, “You saw me teaching them.” He nodded, signaling you to continue. “After all that happened, Amarantha, the attack on Velaris, Hybern, I wanted to make sure our youngest could protect themselves. Training had made me feel strong, before…” you trailed off, gesturing to your back. Azriels eyes grew sharp for a moment, understanding what you meant. “Anyway, I asked Rhys if I could train them. I figured I wasn’t doing much else, and I know enough from you and Cassian that I could teach them basic maneuvers. I love children, I used to dream of having my own with Ga-“ You stopped yourself, horror flooding through your bones. You hadn’t said his name since he heartlessly sliced your wings off.

Azriel noticed the fear start to take over, gently reaching out and grabbing your hands between his. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” He said softly, running his thumbs soothingly over your skin.

“Yea, yea I know.” You mumbled, looking at your hands in his. You cleared your throat, connecting your eyes back with his. “I wanted them to feel safe. That they can protect themselves. It gives me a small piece of hope, that even if something happened they could defend themselves through it.” You felt a tear slide down your cheek, not realizing you had started crying. You pulled one hand from Azriels, wiping it away.

“That is a selfless thing you are doing, training them. I wish one of us had thought of that long ago.” He said, squeezing your remaining hand. You smiled softly at him, not trusting yourself to speak again.

***

It had been a few weeks since your talk with Azriel, something changing between you that day. You now stood with him in front of your students, their little faces lit up with excitement. You had promised to bring the Shadowsinger to them, and their excitement at having a “real warrior” was almost overpowering. You weren’t sure he was going to say yes when you asked, knowing he tends to stay on the quiet side. You almost kissed him when he agreed right away.

Almost.

You couldn’t deny the feelings in your heart as you grew closer to him. They scared you as much as they excited you. You never thought you would feel this way about anyone ever again, especially with the dark shadow of what happened the last time you felt this way looming over you.

Azriel was different, you kept telling yourself. He would never be as evil as Gannon had been. Azriel was a better soul, a soul who knew the pain you’d gone through all too well. You looked up at him, smiling at the nervous look on his face.

“Take it away, Shadowsinger.”

***

The class had been an incredible success. The children loved Azriel, and he seemed to enjoy them just as much. He was able to teach them some defense tricks you hadn’t known, smiling broadly as the littlest of the group caught on the quickest. You were so proud of your students, so inspired by their drive to learn.

Watching one of the little girls run up to him at the end of class and wrap her arms around his legs did something irreparable to your heart. Azriel bent down, scooping her into his arms. “You did amazing, little warrior.” He said, her smile so bright it could contend with the sun. You walked over and pulled the girl out of his arms, giving her a hug of your own before setting her down. “Go on, now. Your mother is waiting at the door.” You watched as she ran to her mother, sending the female a smile as she collected her daughter.

Once everyone had cleared out you began closing all the windows and locking up for the afternoon. You finished pulling the last curtain down, heading over to make sure all the paperwork was done at your desk. You checked to make sure there weren’t any new students joining the next class, marking down those who came today. You were so engrossed in your work you didn’t notice Azriel come stand behind you until you finished and turned, slamming right into his chest. His hands went to your hips to stabilize you, laughing. You tried and failed to glare up at him, a loud laugh coming from you a second later.

When the laughter subsided you looked up at him. His hands hadn’t moved from your hips, and yours hadn’t moved from his chest. “You did great with them,” you said, cutting the tension. Azriel smiled, a hand coming to brush your hair behind your ear.

“They were easy. Their teacher must be an angel.” His words were heavy, his eyes distracted. His hand cupped the side of your face, angling your head up to him.

Your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

For a long few seconds the two of you stood there, daring the other to make the first move. Your resolves broke at the same time, surging forward to join in a heated, desperate kiss. He lifted you up onto the desk behind you, the hand on your hip dropping to grip your thigh as he stepped between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You needed him as close as possible, your body was calling to his. You felt like your heart was pulling him in, a golden string almost tying you to him. You saw it in your mind as he kissed you, feeling that string tighten in your chest.

No, not a string.

A bond.

You gasped, pulling away from the kiss. You were rendered speechless as the bond snapped for you, your eyes wide with shock. Azriel looked panicked for a moment, looking at you with concern. “Are you okay? Was it too much, I understand if you’d-“ You cut him off with another kiss.

“Mate.” You whispered against his lips, his body stilling under your touch. Oh gods, did he not know? Did he not want the bond? Did you just fuck it all-

All thoughts were interrupted by Azriels mouth pressed hot against yours. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it.” He growled into your skin, biting your bottom lip. You moaned at his touch, at his kiss, at your mate. The one thing you were convinced you would never find. He’d been right in front of your eyes all this time, both of you too wrapped up in yourselves to truly see each other.

You tightened your hold around Azriel, one of your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned into your mouth at your touch, a sly smile on your face. You felt whole as his hand slid under your shirt and up your back. You didn’t flinch when his scars touched yours, embracing the vulnerability you shared. The scars that had haunted you now a connection to the one who was made for you.

For the first time in your life, you felt truly safe.

***

I hope this ending was satisfying for you all!! I am blown away by the amount of support on this mini series. I really enjoyed writing it, challenging myself to bring hard emotions into it. Please let me know what you think of this ending, I can’t tell how I feel about it! I rewrote it several times, I couldn’t figure out which direction I wanted it to go. I appreciate and love ALL of your comments on this, and I hope you come back to read some of my other works too <3

[rottenpumpkin13]

AGSZC get sent to our world. Welcome to Earth, boys! How do they react? Who gets arrested for carrying a sharp weapon in public first? Who gets stopped for having "such a cool cosplay omg can I get a picture with you!!!"? Does anyone believe them when they return home?

Sephiroth: Arrested within ten minutes of arrival for openly carrying Masamune. He says nothing the entire time, just lets them cuff him, because he assumes this is Earth's version of Shinra security and he's about to be debriefed. When an officer demands he "drop the weapon," he makes it disappear into thin air. They let him go immediately because (1) they have no evidence, (2) he's suspiciously attractive, and (3) they assume he's just an insanely good wizard LARPer. He walks out of the station completely unbothered, only to get distracted by a glowing sign that says "Taco Bell—Open Late!" and spends the next two hours trying every single menu item. He discovers Baja Blast. He ascends.

Genesis: Figures out within seconds that nobody here knows what Loveless is. This is an injustice he cannot abide. By the end of the first day, he's reciting entire acts in the middle of Times Square. By the end of the week, he has a full-blown cult. People are quoting it, debating interpretations, asking when the sequel is coming out. Someone starts printing T-shirts. An influencer with ten million followers makes a video captioned "Genesis Rhapsodos ended Shakespeare in under 24 hours." He is unstoppable. He is thriving.

Angeal: Mesmerized by the sheer amount of plants. Earth is just covered in greenery, and he spends hours just touching leaves and murmuring about "the purity of natural growth." At one point, he kneels in a park and just presses his palm into the grass, as if absorbing its wisdom. He barely notices the group of children who gather around him, marveling at the "cool swordsman" until one of them asks for a picture with his Buster Sword. He obliges, of course, but by the end of the day, there are hundreds of kids lining up, and someone has started calling him "Excalibur Dad."

Zack: Having the time of his life. He adapts immediately, taking selfies with everyone, somehow gets himself invited to three different house parties within the first few hours. Starts a TikTok, gets famous within hours just for being himself.

Cloud: Absolutely miserable. Every time someone asks if he's in cosplay, he visibly wilts. The others find him hours later, just sitting at a bus stop, staring into the void like he's having a crisis.

[servicpop]

✶ ﹑ㅤXOXOㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : cowboy Cole x "showgirl" m!reader

「ㅤFLUFFㅤ」ㅤdates n stuff with your cowboy bf

notes ,, not proofread ! – part one , part two

You started dating him. The sweetest cowboy around.

You've never really understood it when the showgirls always rambled on about their partners — you personally thought you couldn't do it. But here you are, yapping on and on about him.

You'd blabble a few compliments to him like "he's so handsome," "he's got the cutest smile," "he treats me like a prince," and the girls could practically see the hearts bubbling off of your head. You couldn't stop! The words flooded out your mouth like word vomit and you swore they were getting tired of hearing your heart thumping at 150 beats per minute.

Seated at the vanity, your legs dangled over the chair as you turned to one of the girls, holding your cheeks in your palm as you swooned over Cole. She didn't mind, of course, she was used to your rambling now and was focused on perfecting a new lip combo. "Oh you're so smitten!" She giggled, patting her cheeks with a cushion. "Ain't your mouth tired of moving so much 'mr lover boy'?" Another girl nudged your shoulder with the end of her brow pencil, shaking her head as she huffed from your yapping. A whistle from the girls broke you out of your trance as you lifted your head to look towards the doorway.

When you turned your head, you were met with Cole's figure standing at the entrance of the tent with a bright red blush and flowers held closely to his head. He must've heard everything. Flustered, he clutched his hat that was also held to his chest, lifting it up slightly to cover his red face, "U–uhm... hey. Apologies– I don't wanna' intrude on the ladies space." Cole's eyes were casted to the side; you could tell he was trying to be respectful of the space you shared with the girls.

You got up, walking over to where he was stood and took his hands in yours. "It's alright, I'm sure they don't mind," you reassure him, gently guiding him towards the dressing rooms where you could get changed into some more comfortable clothes. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Cole's eyes trained to the floor and his hat covering his face as he followed you like a puppy. He most definitely felt intimidated by the bustling lifestyle showgirls lived.

As you pulled him into the dressing rooms, Cole finally relaxed, lowering his hat to his side as he watched you with a sweet smile. "No peeking," you chime, disappearing behind the wall to change. "I wouldn't unless you asked sweetheart," Cole called out, taking this moment to lean against the wall as he waited for you to finish.

When you appeared, Cole let out a whistle, his eyes locked with yours as he exhaled contently, "How do you look so beautiful all the time sugar?" Cole took a few steps closer to you, reaching his fingers out to tuck a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered in your hair, brushing through it as he held the side of your neck just behind your ears. His lips ghosted over yours and you could practically feel the heat radiating off him. He didn't connect the kiss and instead pulled back, "Nope! Savin' it for later," He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist as he walked with you out of the dressing room.

It was a nice, sunny day out with the sun beaming down on the two of you but the clouds were kind enough to provide some shelter from the harsh sunlight. Linked by arms, you and Cole were stumbling around the streets pointing out what each cloud looked like. Passer-bys probably thought you guys were drunk but in reality, you were just having some silly fun with your boyfriend.

"That one looks like a duck," Cole laughed, pointing his finger to the sky at the fluffy cloud that was... shaped nothing like a duck. It looked more like a dachshund with its pointy nose and long body but you could see where Cole got a duck from. Another cloud caught your attention, it was most definitely shaped like a horse, "Hey, doesn't that look like Spirit?" You muse, smiling as you pointed to the other cloud. "You sure got keen eyes, darlin'" Cole leaned his weight against you, ruffling your hair playfully as he squeezed you even tighter against him.

After a few minutes — or hours — of giggling at random shapes of clouds, Cole finally led you to a small café by the lake. You hadn't even realised you walked this far out with him. "They've got some mighty fine milkshakes, we can share one!" His hands dipped down to yours, linking your fingers with his as he pulled you inside. The soft jingling of the bells rung through your ears as you stepped through the door, the cozy scent of coffee beans and sweets wafted to your direction.

The atmosphere was so nice, like a fireplace on a cold winter night. Cole seemed to be familiar with the workers, calling out a few greetings before letting you sit down at one of the tables beside the window. The window sill had a small succulent plant, adding to the comfortable environment this café had. "How 'bout a salted caramel milkshake? Sound good?" Cole crooned, swiping his finger along the paper menu before he glanced up at you. You were willing to try out anything Cole suggested, he seemed familiar with this town — maybe because it was quite close to his home town.

Cole called over the waiter and had a brief chat before the waiter left with your orders. The wait was comfortably quiet, just Cole admiring the lake and sometimes you.

The waiter finally came back with the tall milkshake glass, the whipped cream dripped down the edges in small streaks of white adorned with a pinkish cherry ontop. They placed it down before flashing the two of you a smile. The milkshake stood tall and beads of condensation trickled down the flared design of the glass. "Here," You felt the coolness of the cherry being placed against your lips and you look up to see Cole holding it out for you, "I've had this milkshake plenty of times. Its my favourite."

You happily took the cherry, plucking it off of its stem as you chewed on it, the sweet taste leaving a pleasant tingle on your tongue. You watched as Cole grabbed an extra straw and placed it into the drink, pushing one towards your side and holding one to his. You both leaned in to take a sip, the coolness of the milkshake running down your throat nicely. "It's good!" you smile and Cole cant help but smile too. "Told 'ya" he laughed.

It seemed like hours as you and Cole rambled on to eachother about anything that came to mind — he'd tell you about the local gossip and you'd tell him about your experiences in different cities. The more you talked, the more the milkshake slowly disappeared and the sun lowered behind the horizon. The sunset glow casted through the window, a yellow-ish orange color painted the interior of the café. The workers practically had to kick you two out since it was 5 minutes to closing time.

The walk back to your motel wasn't silent, the evening was filled with endless conversations and laughs. Cole turned to face you, the crinkles beside his eyes softening as he had to ask the one question that's been lingering in the back of his mind, "You gotta hit the road again, don't ya?" You look up at him and can see his little heart cracking behind those eyes, he always hated to see you leave. "Yeah," You nod, your voice somewhat breathless, "It's in the city this time, its quite far this time." Cole frowned, squeezing your hand a bit tighter.

"You promise to write t'me, okay?" You weren't that cruel to not write letters to him. "Of course, Cole."

He walked you right to the doorstep, but before you could go inside, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your waist held you tightly. "Wait—" He mumbled, looking down at your face. You were so close to him. Like a snake, his arms constricted around your body, holding you as if you'd run away if he let go. He lowered his head and brought his lips to yours.

You could taste the sweet-salty taste of the caramel milkshake you shared earlier. His lips were soft, not lustful, just genuine love for you. He pulled away to let you take a breath before leaning back in for a second kiss, this time leaning so far forward you had to bend backwards to accommodate for the passionate kiss. "I love you," Cole murmured against your lips, peppering kisses all over your face as he leaned in as close as possible to you. The kisses tickled your skin, causing a giggle to be forced out of your lungs, "Love you too." As you say your last goodbyes — and Cole gave you about 50 more kisses — you finally walked back into your room, meeting one of the girls you shared the motel with.

"That was something straight out of a romance movie," She teased, stirring her black coffee with a teaspoon. "Oh shush," You reply.

Cole sighed with a smile as he finally finished drying the flowers he hand-picked earlier. One of the local grannies told him how to dry flowers and that they would last longer when dried. Knowing Cole, he most definitely used those lessons to use for you. He gently placed the flowers in the envelope, licking the glue to activate it and encased his hand-written letter safely inside.

"He'll love it!"

You had achieved a small collection of dried flowers from Cole, all different kinds and combinations. He really did have an eye for pretty things. Of course, you wrote back, using one of your favourite lipsticks to plant kiss marks on the letters, and neatly signing your name with a heart in red ink. You sealed them up and kissed the envelope once more for good luck.

Your pile of Cole's letters grew as you didn't have the heart to throw any of them away. Tonight, you had recieved an extra special letter, one that had the paw print of Scout on the front. Your heart raced as you took the letter out, curious to why this one was worthy of getting a paw print signed on it.

"I'm coming over! Just wait."

Was written on the bottom of the letter. You could just imagine the big toothy grin on Cole's face when he wrote that. And you have to give it to him, for a guy like him, you didn't expect his handwriting to be so elegant.

You weren't sure when, where, or how Cole was going to "come over," but you waited nonetheless, and the next day Cole had arrived at your hotel with a pair of rugged jeans and a hoodie you gifted to him after on of your performances. "Cole!" You beam, basically jumping out of your seat to hug him, "Honey!" He laughed back, holding you tightly against his chest. "I missed you."

He lifted you up into his arms bridal style, causing a squeak from you, and jumped onto the plush bed with you snuggled in his arms. Your legs tangled under the warmth of the sheets as he pressed his face against your neck, relishing in the soft floral scent of your perfume. He loved that scent, it was perfectly feminine but had a certain masculine undertone to it — which in his opinion — embodies you so well.

"When you get a vacation, come back to my house, I'll let you meet my parents," Cole whispered against your skin, his hands tracing small circles on your back, "Let's get married..."

"Sure— wait what?"

a/n : Cole sweet Cole !! This fic wasn't my best ,, I think maybe I could've done better/wrote more but currently my laptop is out of order right now !! I hate writing on my phone TT but it'll be back soon (hopefully) ♡

[honeyryewhiskey]

... ❝ happy new year!❞

— a hunter's new year's eve party is the last place you wanted to be tonight. but, claire clued you in on a certain someone being here tonight. and, what? you're just supposed to not show up when the elusive dean winchester is making an appearance? warnings!! alcohol use, strong language, it's nye ofc they r kissing, assume reader is a little older than claire so this is less weird idk, 18+ mdni ! 3.8k words

“Claire—no. I told you, I’m not going,” you say with an exaggerated sigh, tucking your phone between your shoulder and chin as you step out of the quiet diner. The cool South Dakota night breeze bites at your skin as you continue, “Hunters are obnoxious drunks—all of them. New Year’s is basically a rite of passage: another year breathing, another excuse to act like a pack of wild animals partying like it’s their last day on Earth.” As you huff a sigh, the cold air turning your breath into a misty cloud that lingers.

Crossing the dimly lit parking lot toward your truck, you hear Claire mutter something under her breath.

It’s quick—but her words make your heart flutter, your hand freezing just as it brushes the door handle.

“What did you just say?”

Through the crackle of the call, you can hear her smug little scoff that instantly makes you want to reach through the phone. You know she’s dramatically rolling her big blue eyes, too

“I said,” she drawls, each word slow and taunting, like a cat playing with a trapped mouse, “The Winchesters are in town—so Dean will be there.”

Dean fucking Winchester. You’d only met him once—years ago, before Claire roped you into becoming her hunting partner. He’d swept in like a storm, leather jacket and all, to save your ass from a nasty shifter, barely breaking a sweat in the process. His gruff charm and cocky smirk had left you reeling, even as he’d muttered something about “maybe hunting isn’t the answer” before disappearing into the night in his impala. But it wasn’t until later, in the dim haze of a small-town bar, when Claire casually dropped the bombshell that the Winchesters were basically her uncles. A few drinks in, your guard slipped, and you drunkenly admitted your stupid crush on the eldest brother. Claire, to her credit, had seemed to let it slide—until now.

“So, what?” you say, forcing out a sheepish laugh as you yank the car door open a little too hard. It bounces back and smacks into your arm. “Ow,” you mutter, scowling at the offending door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” You grit your teeth, cheeks burning. “Look, Claire, I told you I’m not going. The Winchesters don’t change that.”

“Uh-huh,” she replies, dripping with disbelief. “And what if I told you Dean’s already here—at Jodi’s—and he asked about you?”

“He did?” The words are out before you can stop them, your stomach doing an unwelcome little flip. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly shuffle into the driver’s seat. “What was he asking? Wait—what did you say to him?”

“Hah!” Claire cackles, victorious. “You sound like a middle schooler, all flustered over a boy.”

“Oh, Claire,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at nothing, “your uncle is so much more than a boy—”

“Ew! Stop it.” Her groan is dramatic enough to make you grin. “Look, if you don’t come, I’ll just tell Dean about your little crush myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Hey, Dean! Can you c’mere for a second?”

“Claire Novak!” You practically shout, panic tightening your throat.

Her laughter echoes through the line, wicked and delighted. “God, you’re so easy. Relax—I’m kidding.” There’s a pause. Her voice sounds distant, as she talks to someone on the other side of the phone, “oh—Dean, can you just say something stupid real quick? Need proof of life here.”

“What?” His gruff voice rumbles faintly through the line.

“Perfect.” Claire’s smugness is palpable. “So?”

You let out a groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fine. Give me a few hours.” 

✧˖*°࿐

The humming engine softens as you creep down the winding drive. Large pine trees part as Jodi’s cabin comes into view. Massive windows, glowing orange against Pactola Lake. The light leaves a pretty reflection against glass-like water, a snow covered lawn twinking in warm hues. But it’s the silky gleam of your headlights shining against the sleek body of an old ‘67 impala that catches your eyes. Dean’s impala.

The burning in your cheeks is hard to ignore as you find a space to park in the tightly packed lot. Old trucks and cars cover every inch, some even parked on the frosty grass. Hunter parties were big, but never this big. A ripple of relief flows through, momentarily easing the goosebumps pricking your skin. More people meant less chances for you to embarrass yourself in front of the Winchesters or Claire, who’d never let you live it down if you did.

Turning the ignition, the engine clicks off with a huff. As if on cue, your phone starts buzzing on the passenger seat. 

You bite down on the corner of your lip, face illuminated by the glow of your cell as the overhead lights fade out. 

Stealing a moment to yourself, you stare out at the quiet of the cars while practicing deep breathing. You’re used to this, you remind yourself. Hunter’s parties are where you spent all of your holidays after the age of eight. Ended up in the wrong place, at the wrong time and found yourself with your own hunter’s origin story. 

At least there was family in this world you live in, a weird, fucked up family of strangers bonded by their shared profession of exterminating walking evil from the world. 

And now, said family was getting plastered on homemade beer and cheap wine a few yards away from where you sat deep breathing in your truck. 

Shoving the creaky truck open, you slip into the night. Claire throws open the front door, a wicked grin plastered over her face. 

“Would you quit dragging your feet and get in here?” Claire hollers, her grin gleaming like she knows exactly how hard your heart is pounding. The faint hum of country music and the murmur of voices spill out through the open doorway behind her, the warmth of the cabin promising a sharp contrast to the frosty night air.

You tug your jacket tighter around yourself, muttering, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The cabin’s interior is as cozy and chaotic as you remember from past gatherings. The faint scent of pine mingles with beer and something smoky—someone probably barbecued a big dinner. Hunters are scattered everywhere, laughing, drinking, and sharing stories loud enough to rattle the walls.

You weave your way through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces. There’s Jodi by the makeshift bar, pouring drinks while laughing at something Alex said. Garth waves from his spot near the fire, somehow managing to juggle a beer and a plate piled high with food. And Bobby is leaning against a wall, talking with a hunter you vaguely recognize from a case last year.

Claire bumps into you from behind, snapping you out of your daze. “C’mon,” she sings out, brows jumping with excitement, “drinks are this way.” 

She leads you to the cluster of coolers tucked against the back wall of the kitchen. The noise of the party fades slightly as you step away from the center of the chaos, but the faint hum of music and bursts of laughter still fill the air.

“Here,” Claire nods, flipping open a cooler lid and pulling out a nondescript brown bottle. “You’ll love this. Super organic. Super local.”

“That sounds like a lie,” you say, narrowing your eyes as you take the bottle.

Claire smirks. “Just try it.”

With a small shrug, you twist the cap off and take a cautious sip. The taste hits immediately—bitter and earthy, with an unmistakable homemade tang. You recoil, your nose scrunching as the bottle lowers from your lips.

“Okay, what the hell is that?” you cough, wiping your mouth. “Did someone brew this in a bathtub?”

Claire laughs just as a voice cuts in from behind you, warm and teasing. “That bad, huh?”

You turn to find Dean standing there, beer in hand with an amused smirk on his lips. Your stomach flutters and flips under his gaze, as you remind yourself to just act cool.

You hadn’t even noticed Sam, stepping beside his brother with a polite smile. 

“Guess you’re not cut out for the finer things,” Dean adds, nodding toward the bottle in your hand.

“Oh, is that what this is?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. “Because it tastes like someone blended tree bark and regret.”

Sam chuckles, offering his hand. “I’m Sam, this is my brother, Dean. You’re Claire’s friend right? She’s told us a lot about you.”

You take his hand with a polite smile. “Yeah, she’s told me plenty about you guys, too. Nice to finally meet you, Sam. But Your brother and I met once, a while ago now.”

Sam quirks a brow at your words, hazel eyes cutting between you and Dean as if he’s trying to read between the lines of exactly what kind of meeting that may have been.

Before he can get a chance to ask, Claire clears her throat loudly, cutting into the exchange. “Oh, Sam, didn’t you want to see that thing? Over there?” Her finger points vaguely at the living room, deep blue irises the size of saucers as she tries to give him a look of let’s go—now.

Sam blinks, confused as he turns towards her. “What thing?”

Rolling her eyes, she grabs his arm, already dragging him away. “You know—the thing Jodi was talking about. Let’s go.”

“Wait—what thing?” Sam protests, his long limbs stumbling as she pulls him into the crowd, leaving you and Dean standing awkwardly by the coolers.

Dean watches them disappear, his eyebrows furrowed. “She’s acting weird.”

You let out a sheepish laugh, looking down at the bottle in your hand. “Claire? No,” you wave your hand vaguely, desperate to put out the spark of suspicion brewing in his jade eyes, “She’s... always like that.”

Dean gives you a skeptical look but doesn’t push. “So,” he sighs, leaning casually against the counter, “how’s life as Claire’s partner-in-crime? She ever let you get a word in?” His curiosity completely fizzled, eyes trained on you with a small smile. 

You grin up at him, trying your damn hardest not to smile too much at a simple question. “Occasionally. When she’s asleep.”

“That sounds about right,” he chuckles, that smile falling into a smirk. “Bet she’s got you running all over the place, huh?”

“Pretty much. Although to be fair, I do my fair share of dragging her into messes.”

“Let me guess,” Dean starts, his husky voice making goosebumps tent across your skin. “You’re the responsible one. The voice of reason.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s more like... I’m the one making sure she doesn’t jump into a werewolf den without backup.”

“Good luck with that,” he quips, rolling his eyes. “She’s stubborn as hell. Runs in the family.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you reply, smirking back at him.

Dean’s eyes narrow playfully. “Was that a shot at me?”

“Maybe,” you say, taking another swig of the beer and grimacing again. “God, this is terrible.”

Dean chuckles, reaching over to take the bottle from you. “Here, let me save you from yourself.” He sets it on the cooler and hands you one of the labeled beers from the next cooler over. “Try this instead. It won’t kill you.”

You take it, your fingers brushing his briefly. “Thanks. I was starting to think you were going to let me suffer.”

“Nah,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Not my style.”

Bobby’s clapping as he strides into the kitchen catches everyone’s attention. “You two—garage, now,” he orders, motioning toward the garage door. A small crowd trails behind him as he crosses the room.

Dean flashes you a quick grin, raising a brow. You exchange a knowing look before following the group. Claire brushes past, grabbing your arm with a playful smile as she glances between you and Dean.

Jodi stood at the makeshift table in the garage, lining up red Solo cups with the precision of someone who’d once been a drill sergeant in another life. “Alright, listen up!” she called, gesturing toward the group. “We’re playing flip cup—two teams, four players each. No whining, no excuses, and definitely no cheating.” She pointed at Dean with a sharp look.

Dean raises his hands in mock surrender, all feigned innocence. “What? I’m offended you’d even suggest that, Jodi.”

Donna, practically bouncing with excitement, chimes in, “Relax, Sheriff. Dean’s too cocky to cheat. He thinks he’s already won.”

Standing next to Sam, you smirk. “That’s because he hasn’t gone up against us yet. His ego’s about to take a hit.”

Dean’s gaze snaps to yours, his eyebrows lifting with a teasing smile. “Big words, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can back ’em up.”

Jodi claps her hands again, “Alright, teams are set! Over here—Dean, Alex, Sam, and Bobby. Over there—Me, Donna, Claire and you.” she finishes, pointing at you with a wink. “Dean, I reckon I’ve got your match here with this one.” 

A deep laugh rolls out of Dean as he leans casually against the workbench, “Uh, huh, you say that now, Jodi. But you’re gonna be singin’ a different tune when this is over.”

The game kicks off with an eruption of cheers as everyone falls into line behind the first match: you and Alex. She knocks back her first drink with ease, but her flip wobbles, giving you enough time to swiftly take the first win. 

“Yes!” you shriek, hands going up in the air, “first blood!” 

“That’s my girl!” Claire giggles from the line. 

Dean, watching with his arms crossed, meets your eyes with a smirk, “Alright, alright, girls. Don’t get too cocky yet.”

Sam and Donna face off next. To your surprise, Donna keeps pace with Sam, matching his speed as she downs her drink. Just as Sam moves to flip his cup, Donna’s lands upright on the first try with flawless precision.

“Yes!” Donna shouts, throwing her arms up in victory. The garage erupts into cheers from her team, while yours lets out a collective groan.

Sam stares at his still-tipping cup, dumbfounded. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters.

Donna grins, clapping him on the back. “Sorry, Sammy, but the Midwest don’t mess around.”

They fall back from the table, Sam with his head hanging low as Dean’s laughter booms over everyone else's. 

Claire steps up with confidence, “You’re going down, old man!” she teases as she stares down Dean from across the table. Her expression is smug, completely locked into her competitive nature. They move simultaneously, Claire finishing her cup seconds before Dean. 

“C’mon,” she yells, wiping her mouth hastily as she attempts her first flip. It doesn’t land, earning a smug chuckle from Dean as he casually sets his cup down onto the table. 

Grinning at her lazily, “Patience, kiddo.” With an annoying lack of effort, he nails his first flip. A noisy chaos ensues around you. 

“That’s how it’s done.” he gloats, head tilting to throw you a quick wink.

With narrow eyes, you shoot back at him, “Don’t get too comfortable, Winchester.” 

The game heated up as Jodi and Bobby began the final round, a rambunctious chant of “chug, chug, chug,” filled the air. Jodi drinks too fast, falling into a coughing fit as Bobby takes advantage of the moment and flips his cup a few times, cursing, until he’s taking the round for the win. 

The opposite team cheers as Jodi regains her composure, “Hang on a damn minute,” she laughs, clearing her throat, “we’ve got a tie. Two and two for wins, who’s gonna be the tie breakers?”

Everyone looks around at each other for a moment, until Dean’s clearing his throat, stepping up to the table. He points at you without looking up from the cup he’s filling with beer. “You and me, baby. Let’s go.” 

The room quieted slightly as everyone leaned in, the tension palpable.

Dean smirks, “You ready for this?”

You return his look, eyes sparkling, “Born ready.”

You both drink at lighting speed, slamming cups down almost simultaneously. Dean flips first, but it topples over and skids across the table. “Damnnit!” he shouts. 

You try yours, the cup slipping on the table that has become a mess of puddles from the previous rounds. Bitting your lip you try again, your finger curling into the cup just as Dean breaks your focus with a throat holler.  

You look up to see his cup, perfectly upright on the table. 

His fists are pumping the air, basking in the glory. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t mess with the master.”

Donna and Alex high-fived him as Jodi shook her head with a rueful smile.

Claire, groaning loudly, threw a hand over her face. “Ugh, I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

With your hands on her hips, a raised eyebrow. “Alright, Winchester. You won. No need to act like you just saved the world.”

Dean stepped closer, his grin growing wider. “Oh, it’s not just about winning. It’s about proving a point.”

Crossing your arms, head tilting. “And what point is that?”

Dean, leaning in slightly, lowered his voice just enough to make your heart skip. “That I’m better at everything.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Dean, straightening up, gave you a wink. “You’ll thank me for the lesson someday.”

Sam, rolling his eyes, walked by and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “You’re the worst winner.”

Dean grinned at his brother. “And proud of it, Sammy.”

The garage was still buzzing with energy as everyone started migrating toward the house, laughing and recounting moments from the flip cup game. Jodi herded people inside, saying something about grabbing coats before heading out for the fireworks.

You linger near the door, talking to Sam and Claire about Dean’s relentless gloating, when you feel the faintest brush of warm air against your ear.

“Hey.”

Dean’s closeness startles you, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“I’ve got a better spot to watch the fireworks,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Blinking at him, your heart stumbles over itself. “Yeah? What makes it better?”

Dean leans in a little closer, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening. “Well, for one, it’s not packed with a bunch of loudmouths.” He nods toward the others, who are noisily debating something in the living room. “Second, it’s got the best view of the lake. Was gonna keep it to myself, but…” His brows raise, teasing. “Figured I owed you after absolutely destroying you in flip cup.”

You bite your cheek to hide a smile. “Oh, how generous of you.”

Dean leans back with a shrug, his hands sliding into his pockets. “What can I say? I’m a man of honor.”

“Sure you are,” you tease back, feeling a mix of amusement and nerves swirl in your chest.

Without waiting for a full reply, Dean jerks his head toward the back stairs. “C’mon. You in?”

You hesitate only for a moment, the pull of his green eyes leaving no room for argument. With a nod, you agree. “Lead the way.”

Following Dean up the stairs, the noise of the party fades into a muffled hum. Stepping into a bedroom, you notice the open duffel bag tossed on the bed, a scattered mess of flannels and dark t-shirts on the floor.

Oh. You’re in his room.

Unaware of the way your heart is beating like a hummingbird’s wings, Dean grabs a flannel blanket from the chair in the corner before crossing to the window.

“Wait,” you start, watching as he unlocks it and slides it open. “We’re going out the window?”

Dean glances over his shoulder, his grin casual as ever. “What, you scared of a little height? Thought you were more adventurous than that.”

“I’m plenty adventurous,” you shoot back, hands on your hips. “Just wasn’t expecting an escape route.”

“Well, buckle up, sweetheart.” He climbs through the window with practiced ease, balancing the blanket over his shoulder. “It’s worth it, trust me.”

You follow him, carefully stepping onto the gently sloped roof. The cool night air hits your cheeks, and the chatter of the group below mixes with faint music drifting from the cabin.

Dean spreads the blanket out on a flat portion of the roof, then turns to offer a hand. “Your throne awaits, milady.”

You laugh softly, taking his hand and sitting down next to him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” he quips, settling beside you.

It’s the perfect vantage point—an unobstructed view of the lake where the fireworks will light up the sky. Down on the lawn, the others gather, laughing and occasionally tripping over each other as a few of the guys set up the fireworks.

You laugh, pointing out one hunter chasing another with a lit sparkler. “This feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

Dean chuckles. “Hunters: professional monster killers, amateur party planners.”

The fireworks begin, bursting over the lake in brilliant colors that reflect off the water. The two of you fall into a companionable silence, the booms and crackles filling the air.

Someone from the ground shouts into the night, “It’s almost time!”

Within seconds, your mind is racing, thinking about how much fun this entire night has been. How you’re not even sure when—or if—you’ll see the elusive Dean Winchester again. Maybe it’s the buzz from chugging beer during flip cup, or maybe it’s the way he makes you feel safe, even in silence, that gives you the courage to speak.

“Confession,” you blurt out, biting your lip. Just as you get the word out, the crowd below begins the countdown.

ten… nine…

“Hm?” he grumbles, brows knitting as jade eyes give your face a once-over.

eight… seven…

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

six… five…

Your heart is definitely going to burst out of your chest, that much you’re sure of.

four… three…

Dean lets out a quiet, raspy laugh.

two…

His eyes roam over your face, soft and searching.

one…

The fireworks crackle into the night, but all you can focus on is Dean’s warm hands against your flushed cheeks. He pulls you in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

The world around you falls away—the cracking in the sky, the cheers from below, the chill of the night. All that matters is the way Dean’s kiss lingers, unhurried, sweet, and just a little daring.

He pulls back first, with a smile big enough to show off the dimples in his cheeks. “Guess that counts as your first New Year’s kiss. Gotta say, you’re setting the bar pretty high.”

You laugh, trying to play it cool even as your heart races. “High? That was barely a six out of ten.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “A six, huh? Alright, guess I’ve got all year to work on it.”

Your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes. “You better bring your A-game next time, Winchester.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch again. “You ain’t seen anything yet.”

happy new year babiesss, i'm sorry if this is ass i just wanted to write reader with best friend claire and the warm fuzzy feeling of being at a hunter's party. and if the teams didn't actually tie. dont look at me i rewrote that like 5 fucking times bc i can't figure out how to tie it but i think i did idk idk idk

if ur reading this far, this post is scheduled as i am currently bartending at the clerb to about 1,000 drunk ppl pray for me lol 🫶🏽

[prettygirl-gabi]

"Caught On Stream"

Rating:Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: fluff, secret relationship, money bets were made, protective Chris, pet names: mamas, baby,sweet girl

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Soft!Reader

Fandom:Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: getting your period on stream....Chris gets protective... more than friends...or no who knows

Word Count: ~1.2k

I loved hanging out with the triplets. They were my comfort zone, my laughter medicine, and, well, one of them was a little more than that. But no one knew about Chris and me—not Nick, not Matt, and definitely not their fans. It wasn’t that we were hiding it out of shame; we just loved the privacy.

So, when they asked me to join their stream, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I adored spending time with all three of them, and it sounded like fun.

“We’ll set up in the room,” Nick had said, bouncing around with excitement as he placed snacks and drinks on the desk.

When the stream started, it was chaos right from the get-go. The chat was going crazy, commenting on everything from Nick’s shirt to Matt’s hair to Chris’s grin. And, of course, they noticed me right away.

“Who’s the guest of honor?” Nick asked dramatically, turning the camera toward me.

I waved awkwardly. “Hi, guys. I’m Y/N.”

The chat exploded with messages.

WHO IS SHE?!

She’s so pretty omg.

Matt’s gf confirmed??

That last one made me laugh, and Matt shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “Guys, stop. Y/N’s just a friend.”

Nick smirked. “Or is she?”

“Shut up, Nick,” Chris muttered, his eyes flicking toward me for a split second. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks but played it cool.

The stream continued, the four of us bantering and answering questions from the chat. I was perched on Chris’s lap since there were only three chairs, a fact we explained away as “no big deal” when someone inevitably asked about it.

But about thirty minutes in, I felt the first telltale cramp. My stomach twisted, and I shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore it.

“Baby, you good?” Chris whispered in my ear, his voice low enough that the mic didn’t pick it up.

I nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I wasn’t fine.

Ten minutes later, the cramps had worsened, and I started feeling that awful dampness that told me my period had arrived—uninvited and completely unwelcome. My face burned with embarrassment as I tried to figure out what to do. I couldn’t exactly stand up and announce my problem to the room or, worse, to the thousands of people watching the stream.

Chris must have noticed something was off because he gently squeezed my hip, his head dipping closer to mine. “What’s wrong, mamas?” he murmured.

“I think I got my period,” I whispered back, barely able to meet his eyes.

His expression shifted immediately, concern clouding his features. “Do you need to get up? Change? Anything?”

“Chris—” I started, but before I could finish, he was already muting the stream mic and standing up, lifting me with him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yo, what are you doing?” Nick asked, frowning as Chris carried me toward the door.

“I’ll be right back,” Chris said, his tone brisk.

Matt glanced at Nick, then back at us. “Uh… okay?”

The chat went wild.

WHY IS HE CARRYING HER?!

OMG ARE THEY DATING??

CHRIS AND Y/N CONFIRMED.

Once we were out of the room, Chris set me down gently in the hallway. “Okay, baby what do you need? Pads? Tampons? Medicine?”

“Chris, I—”

“Hey, hey, hey stop,” he said softly, cupping my face in his hands. “Don’t be embarrassed, okay? Periods happen. Just tell me what you need.”

I bit my lip, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I don’t want to ruin the stream…”

“Screw the stream. You’re more important, especially right now sweet girl” he said firmly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “Now, tell me what you need.”

“Um… a pad. And maybe some Advil?”

“Done,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before disappearing down the hall.

By the time we returned to the room, the chat was in absolute chaos, and Nick was glaring at Chris like he’d just committed a crime.

“What was that about?” Nick demanded, his arms crossed.

“None of your business,” Chris shot back, guiding me back onto his lap.

“Oh, it’s definitely my business,” Nick countered, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve been acting weird around her all night.”

“Yeah, you’re, like, extra nice to her,” Matt added, smirking.

Chris rolled his eyes, his arm tightening protectively around my waist. “Can we just get back to the stream?”

“Sure,” Nick said slowly, a sly grin spreading across his face. Since he had un muyed the stream while we were gone. “But only if you admit it.”

“Admit what?” Chris asked, his tone laced with faux innocence.

“That you’re dating her.”

Chris froze for half a second, his eyes flicking to mine. I gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. If this was how it came out, so be it.

“Fine,” Chris said with a sigh, his lips quirking up into a small smile. “Yeah, we’re dating.”

Nick let out a triumphant whoop, spinning in his chair to face Matt. “Told you! Pay up!”

Matt groaned, pulling a fifty-dollar bill out of his pocket and slapping it into Nick’s outstretched hand.

“You bet on us?” I asked, my jaw dropping.

“Of course we did,” Nick said, grinning. “It was so obvious. Chris can’t keep his hands off you.”

Chris groaned, burying his face in my shoulder. “I hate you guys.”

The chat, meanwhile, was exploding with messages.

I KNEW IT!!!

CHRIS AND Y/N ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER OMG.

Nick was right all along.

"I love this for y'all honestly." Nick said still doing his happy dance waving the $50 in the air.

Despite my earlier embarrassment, I couldn’t help but laugh. Chris tightened his hold on me, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.

“Well, the secret’s out now,” he murmured, his voice warm.

“Guess so,” I replied, leaning back against him.

And honestly? It didn’t feel so bad.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[puckinghischier]

Nervous

Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack

summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day

notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌

[2.6k]

~

Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.

Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devils home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.

Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.

“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You’re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.

You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.

You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.

“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.

You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before he dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.

Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.

At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.

“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.

“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.

Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.

Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.

“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.

“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.

“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.

“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”

Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.

“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months.

“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”

That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.

So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.

He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.

Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.

“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.

“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”

“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.

“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.

“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.

“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”

Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.

“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.

“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.

“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.

“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”

“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.

Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.

Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.

As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?

Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.

Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.

He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.

As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.

You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.

The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.

As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.

[lilacmingi]

HADES (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Hades!Hongjoong x fem!reader

Word count: 2,830

Note: This imagine is part of my Disney Villains series from 2022 on Wattpad! 😈 Also!! I have a new rule in place. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE! Reading through a series and liking the post when you’re done is fine, but don’t go through and like multiple imagines one after the next consecutively please! I don’t wanna get shadowbanned </3 if you wanna save multiple imagines to read later, like my masterlist instead!

It was a boring day in the Underworld. The flow of souls coming in was lower than usual, which meant Hongjoong didn't have much to do. His poilished, black nails tapped against the arm of his throne as he stared blankly into the flames before him.

He was bored to death.

He snapped his fingers, his two lackeys appearing in a puff of black smoke.

"You called?" Wooyoung asked, brushing his hair away from his face.

"It's a slow day." Hongjoong responded.

"We noticed." San added, suppressing a yawn.

"I was thinking we could have some fun in the mortal realm today. What do you think, boys?"

The duo shared a look, mischievous smirks tugging at their lips.

Hongjoong took that as a yes.

The three disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, appearing in the mortal realm somewhere away from the crowds. Hongjoong was quick to disguise himself in his human form. His extravagant, black attire was replaced with cream-colored robes to blend in. He looked at the two stood across from him.

"What have you got?" He asked, indicating for the two to show him their disguises.

In an instant, the pair turned into two children.

A wicked smile spread across Hongjoong's features.

"Perfect. No one ever suspects children."

"What do you want us to do, boss?" San inquired.

"Go wreak havoc. Steal something, harass the elderly, let the livestock loose in the streets." He ordered, listing off things that would cause disturbances.

"You got it." The two saluted Hongjoong before scurrying off into town leaving their boss to watch the chaos ensue.

You strode through town, perusing the different carts lined up along the dusty streets. You didn't need anything in particular, you just wanted to get out, stretch your legs, and get some fresh air.

Suddenly, you heard a commotion from somewhere behind you. You turned around to see what was going on, and when you did, two little boys ran by nearly knocking you off your feet as they did so. You stumbled a bit but was quick to regain your balance as you saw the two kids run over to a nearby fruit cart. You couldn't help but notice one of them going to steal an apple. Just when you were about to speak up, the lady running the small business began shouting at them, shooing them away. You frowned, feeling sorry for the two boys.

"Excuse me." You called out, stepping towards the fruit cart. "What's going on?"

"These two ruffians tried to steal my goods!" She spoke harshly, her voice a bit gravelly.

"They were just hungry, I'm sure."

"Lady, do you see the chaos these two have caused?" She pointed to the other vendors' carts lining the street. Some appeared to have things knocked off, the sellers trying to gather their goods out of the streets.

"I'm sure they didn't mean to. They were probably just having fun and weren't paying attention. Right?" You asked, turning to the children.

They both nodded.

You then bent down to their level, looking at the two of them. One had short, choppily cut black hair, the other longer brown hair with subtle waves. They both looked to be around the same age, maybe seven years old. You weren't too sure. Either way, you weren't going to leave them without making sure they were alright and out of trouble.

"Where are your parents?" You asked.

Neither said a word.

"Do you have parents?"

The one with brown hair nodded while the one with choppy black hair shook his head. You weren't sure what to think of that, so you chose to overlook it.

"Are you guys hungry? I'll get you something."

The two shared a glance before nodding.

You stood up to face the lady running the fruit stand.

"I'd like two apples, please."

"For these two delinquents?" She asked, harshly.

"I'm giving you business, so why does it matter who I give them to?"

The vendor pressed her lips together, knowing she couldn't possibly refuse a paying customer.

"Alright." She huffed, taking the money from me.

"Thank you." You gave her a friendly smile, picking two apples from the woven baskets on the cart and handing them to the boys.

"Thank you, Miss." The brown-haired boy smiled, his cheeks round like bread.

Hongjoong, who was watching from a distance witnessed the whole thing. He felt something in his chest when he saw how kind you were towards San and Wooyoung. It was an odd feeling he hadn't felt before—ever. He wanted to talk to you right that instant. He then stepped out of his hiding spot and began walking over.

"San! Wooyoung!" He called.

You lifted your gaze at the unfamiliar voice, your eyes landing on a man with straight, black hair. He had a prominent nose that came to a point; it was dainty and reminded you of a fairy. He hurried over to the two children, crouching down to their height.

"There you two are." He spoke.

His voice was unique. It was a bit higher than you expected, but so light and airy. You could listen to him talk all day.

"Oh. Do you know them?" You inquired.

"Yes. I'm their... older brother, actually."

"Ah. I thought they were lost so I bought them apples. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. That was very kind of you." He went quiet for a moment before piping up. "I'm Hongjoong. That's San and that's Wooyoung."

"I'm Y/n." You introduced yourself.

"Nice to meet you." Hongjoong smiled warmly.

"Thank you, Miss Y/n." The boy with the choppy hair, who you now know as San, thanked you.

"Yeah. You're really nice." Wooyoung spoke up.

"Thank you, boys. You're awfully kind."

"You were so nice to my brothers, I feel like I should do something for you in return. You know, as a way to say thank you." Hongjoong spoke.

"That's alright. You don't have to do anything for me."

"I insist."

"Well, if you must."

"Would you be interested in a visit to the theater?"

"The theater?"

He nodded with a smile.

"That's a very nice offer."

"Is it something you'd be interested in?"

"I would."

"Wonderful." He beamed.

His smile was incredible. His teeth were stunning and so white. You'd never seen anyone with a smile as perfect as his.

"We could meet by the colosseum tomorrow when the sun reaches the top of that mountain." He pointed.

"That works." You nodded.

"Are you going on a date with my brother?" Wooyoung asked.

"Date?" You parroted.

You and Hongjoong both started denying it.

"No, no, no." You shook your head.

"I'm just thanking her for being nice to you two." Hongjoong clarified.

The two boys gave both of you skeptical looks.

"Alright, well we should be going." Hongjoong spoke up, pushing his brothers forward. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The next day, you met Hongjoong outside the colosseum as promised. You put on your best robes, wanting to impress the handsome man. It seemed he was thinking the same as you, because he showed up wearing nice robes as well.

"You look wonderful." He complimented.

"So do you."

"Ah. Really?" He asked, pushing his hair back.

"Yes. Very handsome." You told him.

"Shall we head inside?" He nodded towards the colosseum entrance.

"Of course."

He offered you his hand, which you gratefully took and allowed him to lead you inside.

The both of you got seated and waited for the chairs around you to fill up.

"I love coming to the theater." Hongjoong commented. "It's a nice break from work."

"What do you do?" You asked.

"Oh." He seemed caught off guard by the question. "I'm a... supervisor."

"A supervisor? What do you supervise?"

"The dead."

"Oh. So you're a coroner?"

"Yes, exactly! That's what it's called." He nodded.

"Don't you get creeped out being so close to dead bodies?"

"Well, I don't really deal with the bodies."

You gave him an odd look. "Isn't that what a coroner does?"

"Oh, um, I mean, it's not so bad. I just look at the body and document the person's time of death, so I'm not around them for too long."

"Hm." You hummed in response.

"The show's starting." Hongjoong pointed.

The two of you continued to spend time together for the next few weeks. Hongjoong took you to incredible places and did many fun and exciting things with you. It was never boring when you were with him. Always something new.

The both of you walked hand in hand as Hongjoong took you home. Your hair was adorned with flowers Hongjoong had placed in there. You had even placed a few in his locks as well. You had just gotten back from watching the sun set on a hill overlooking the city. It was the most perfect evening ever.

"Thank you for today." You told him, leaning your head over on his shoulder.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you had a good time."

"It was wonderful, as usual. You always seem to find a way to one-up the previous date."

"Oh, so these are dates now?" He asked with a smirk.

"Of course they are. That visit to the theater was a date too."

"How so?" Hongjoong inquired.

"I know you didn't just invite me to the theater to thank me for being nice to your brothers."

"Alright, you got me." He chuckled. "I needed an excuse to see you again."

"So you admit you were smitten from the start?"

"You could call it that." He smiled, fondly. "What about you?"

"I was quite taken with you too." You admitted.

"I knew it." He grinned.

"Liar." You laughed, shoving him playfully.

Your heart sank just slightly when you saw your home come into view. You always hated saying goodbye to Hongjoong, but you knew you'd be see each other again soon—you always did.

The two of you came to a stop at your front entrance.

"I don't want to leave." You told him.

He smiled a bit as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

"I know."

"Thank you again for the wonderful afternoon."

"Of course, darling." He smiled warmly, his thumb caressing your cheek, sending a rush of tingles throughout your body. "Now go get some rest."

You nodded as Hongjoong's hand fell from your face.

"Oh. There's something that I want to tell you. It's pretty important. Can you meet me at the building overlooking the botanical garden tomorrow after sunset?"

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"It's not the right time."

"And tomorrow is?" You inquired.

"Yes. So, will you meet me there?"

"Of course, Hongjoong."

"Thank you."

You stepped inside, glancing back at the charming man.

"Sweet dreams." He whispered.

You gave him a small wave before closing the door.

It took you a while to get to sleep that night, as all you could think of was what Hongjoong might want to say to you. He could want to officially ask you to be his girlfriend, that would make you really happy. Or it could be something else. You tried not to think of anything negative as you finally forced yourself to go to sleep.

You approached the building Hongjoong asked you to meet him at. Your hands were slightly clammy as you headed to the balcony in the back. The sun had gone down, bathing the scenery in its cloak of darkness. You had wondered why Hongjoong wanted to meet at night, but chose not to question it.

You admired the beautiful nighttime scene and the way the bright moon cast shadows over the trees and sculptures in the garden sitting below. It was somewhat eerie but beautiful at the same time.

"You showed." A voice spoke up.

You turned to see Hongjoong approaching.

"Of course I showed." You smiled. "I told you I would."

"Thank you."

"You said you wanted to tell me something?"

"I do." He confirmed. "Well, I also want to show you something."

You stood and waited, watching as he took in a deep breath.

"Watch this." He instructed with a smile.

He held his hand out, a rose engulfed in blue flames appearing out of thin air.

You stared at it in awe, unable to comprehend how he conjured the flower out of nothing and also why it wasn't wilting under the flames.

"How did you do—" You were cut off when you looked up to see Hongjoong standing in front of you, but he looked different—very different.

His normal black hair was now blue, matching flames of the same hue were coming off the ends of his locks. His outfit had changed as well. Instead of his usual cream-colored robes was now an odd-looking black outfit made of some sort of leather. He donned a large feathery coat on top with a black skull on his shoulder. It was nothing like you had ever seen before. The outfit wasn't the only thing that changed. His brown eyes were now covered in heavy eye makeup, black shadows smudged around his intense eyes.

His entire look was, in a word, otherworldly.

"Hongjoong?" You asked, shocked by his new appearance, unconsciously taking a step back as the rose fell from your hand.

"Y/n, just let me explain before you freak out, okay?"

You took in a deep breath, staying silent and allowing him to continue.

"I'm not actually human. I'm god of the underworld."

Your eyes widened in shock and mild horror.

I've been going on dates with the god of death? You thought in disbelief.

"I couldn't come right out and tell you because I didn't want you to run away. I wanted you to get to know me for me."

Hearing him say that made you pause for a moment. He's right. You probably would have ran away if he came out looking like he did.

"I'm still the same Hongjoong, I just look a little different is all."

He had a point. It's not like he's some monster. He's still Hongjoong.

"So, San and Wooyoung aren't your brothers?" You asked.

"No." He shook his head. "They're my henchman."

"And you're not a coroner." You said it like a statement.

"No."

You let out a short sigh. "I can't be mad at you. You had good intentions. Also, you did kinda tell the truth about your profession. You do supervise the dead."

"That I do." He chuckled. "So, does this change the way you feel about me?"

You smiled softly. "No."

Hongjoong took a few steps forward, reaching his hand out. His jewelry-clad fingers glimmered under the moonlight as he waited for you grab hold of his hand.

"Your nails." You commented, glancing at his black colored fingernails.

"You like them?"

You nodded. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Well, sweetheart, things in the Underworld are a bit different than they are here."

"I imagine so." You said, glancing at Hongjoong's outfit.

"Maybe I can show you one day."

"You can take me there?" You asked.

"Of course. I'm king, so I make the rules."

You chuckled.

Hongjoong pulled you close, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. Your breathing quickened as you realized how close your faces were.

"Will you be my queen, Y/n?"

"What?" You choked out.

"Not now, but someday. Will you be my queen and rule the Underworld by my side?"

"That's a difficult question to answer at the moment."

"Then let's start with girlfriend first. How's that?"

"Good. That I can handle." You nodded with a light chuckle.

Hongjoong smiled, his thumb gently ghosting over your bottom lip.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his voice so gentle it made your heart flip.

All you could do was nod your head.

The gap between your mouths was closed instantly as Hongjoong's lips met yours, nearly taking your breath away. His hands briefly squeezed your sides as his lips pressed harder against your own.

"You're so beautiful, darling." He murmured before diving back in for another kiss, his hands roaming your waist as yours stayed firmly planted on his shoulders.

You pulled away, gazing into his eyes.

"I don't want this night to end." You admitted, your fingers playing with the black feathers of Hongjoong's coat.

"It doesn't have to. We can always take a walk through the garden or gaze at the stars."

"That sounds romantic... but first I'd like to try that kiss again." You grinned.

"As you wish, my dear."

When Hongjoong asked you about ruling the Underworld with him, it caught you off guard. However, the idea of being by his side made you happy and the thought of it was rather appealing. Maybe one day you would accept his offer. As of right now, you'd like to take things slow and just have a normal relationship—well, as normal as a relationship with the god of the Underworld could be.

Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

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[regressionschool]

Maturity Test Part 2

Chapter 1

Anna had been away for three years, throwing herself into work and life, the memories of her last visit to the regression school nursery and her friends there fading into the background. But now, it was time for her reclassification, and she found herself once again driving the familiar road back to the place where her friends had been left behind. She wondered how much had changed. How much had Rebecca and Olaf changed? How much had she changed?

Arriving at Olaf's place first, Anna hesitated before knocking on the door. She had kept in touch with Olaf and his girlfriend, Lilly, over the years, but hearing stories and actually seeing the changes were two very different things. Taking a deep breath, she knocked, the sound echoing loudly in her ears.

A moment later, the door opened, and there stood Lilly, a bright smile on her face. "Anna! It's so good to see you!" she greeted warmly, pulling Anna into a quick hug before stepping aside to let her in. "Olaf’s been looking forward to your visit."

Anna stepped inside, her eyes immediately drawn to the subtle yet significant changes in the apartment. The living room had transformed into what could only be described as a preschooler’s haven. Bright colors adorned the walls, and scattered toys filled the floor. A large playmat with a road map pattern lay in the center of the room, and in one corner stood a small table with coloring books and crayons.

But what really caught Anna's attention was the large potty chart on the wall, covered in stickers—mostly clouds with only a few suns scattered here and there. It was clear that Olaf’s potty training had regressed significantly. The sparse suns stood out like sad little beacons amidst a sea of rain clouds.

Lilly noticed where Anna’s gaze had fallen and chuckled softly. “He’s had a bit of a rough time with his potty training lately,” she explained, her tone both affectionate and slightly teasing. “But he’s doing his best, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Anna turned to see Olaf emerging from the hallway. The sight of him was both shocking and heartbreaking. He was wearing a pair of blue pull-ups, the childish design visible beneath his t-shirt. His once-confident demeanor was now replaced with a more subdued, almost shy, expression as he shuffled over to greet Anna.

“Hi, Anna,” Olaf said softly, a pacifier hanging from a clip on his shirt. He didn’t seem to notice it as he absentmindedly popped it into his mouth after saying hello, sucking on it softly as he stood there, fidgeting slightly.

“Hi, Olaf,” Anna replied, trying to keep her voice light and not show how surprised she was at how much he had changed. She could see the subtle influence Lilly had over him—his behavior, his clothes, even his posture all screamed little boy. “It’s good to see you again.”

Olaf nodded, his cheeks flushing a little as he tugged on his t-shirt, which didn’t cover his pull-ups. “Yeah, it’s good to see you too. We’ve been having lots of fun, haven’t we, Mommy?” he added, looking up at Lilly with a small smile.

Lilly beamed, reaching down to ruffle his hair affectionately. “We sure have, sweetie” “I’ll go get us something to drink,” Lilly announced suddenly, giving Olaf a quick peck on the cheek before disappearing into the kitchen.

The moment she was out of earshot, Olaf’s demeanor changed. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a heavy sigh, pulling the pacifier from his mouth and dropping it onto the table with a soft clatter. He looked up at Anna with a mixture of shame and desperation in his eyes.

“Anna,” he began quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Lilly wasn’t coming back yet. “I need to talk to you. I—Lilly—she signed me up for Unpotty Training III,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

Anna blinked in surprise. “Unpotty Training III? What’s that?” she asked, leaning in closer.

Olaf sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “It’s not like the first two levels. Unpotty Training I and II were about getting you to have accidents, you know, just losing control sometimes. But this… this is different. It’s not about accidents anymore. It’s about not using the potty at all. They teach you how to… just let go whenever, wherever. No more control.”

Anna’s eyes widened as she processed his words. “And you’re the only one in the class who’s not… fully regressed?”

Olaf nodded, looking down at his pull-ups. “Yeah. It’s so embarrassing, Anna. All the other guys are in diapers, and here I am, still in pull-ups but being told I need to stop using the potty entirely. Lilly says it’s for my own good, that it’s part of accepting who I��m supposed to be, but… I don’t know. I want to grow back up, at least a little.”

“And that’s not all,” Olaf interrupted, his voice tense with frustration. “She signed me up for pacifier dependence too. I can’t go anywhere without it now. If I don’t have it... I just get so anxious, Anna. I don’t know what to do.”

Anna reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Olaf, why didn’t you tell her? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried,” he muttered, his eyes darting toward the kitchen again. “But she doesn’t listen. She thinks this is what’s best for me, but... I don’t want this. I want to grow back up, Anna. I don’t want to be stuck like this forever.”

Before he could finish, Lilly’s cheerful voice cut through the air as she returned, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee and a sippy cup filled with juice. Olaf quickly popped the pacifier back into his mouth, his frustration hidden behind the plastic shield.

“Here we go!” Lilly said brightly, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “Two coffees for the grown-ups and a nice sippy cup of juice for my little man.”

Olaf forced a smile, taking the sippy cup in his hands. “Thanks, Mommy,” he mumbled, his previous frustration buried under a veneer of obedience.

Lilly beamed, clearly pleased with his response. “Oh, and Olaf, I don’t think we need to worry about you drinking from a cup anymore. Those days are long gone, aren’t they?”

Anna watched as Olaf’s grip tightened on the sippy cup, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t respond, just brought the cup to his lips and began to drink, his eyes focused intently on the table.

As they sipped their drinks, a faint hissing sound reached Anna’s ears. At first, she thought it might be coming from outside, but then she realized it was much closer—too close.

Olaf was wetting himself.

She glanced at his pull-ups, noticing the way the material was gradually swelling, the childish design fading as it absorbed the wetness. Olaf’s face remained calm, his eyes focused on the sippy cup in his hands as he continued to drink, completely unaware of what was happening. He looked so small, so helpless—more like a toddler than a preschooler.

Lilly, who was casually sipping her coffee, noticed Anna’s concerned expression and followed her gaze to Olaf’s pull-ups. A knowing smile spread across her face.

Lilly glanced at the clock on the wall, her eyes widening slightly as she realized the time. "Oh, look at the time," she said, her voice tinged with both excitement and a hint of urgency. "We need to get ready for the reclassification, Olaf."

Olaf looked up from his coloring, his brow furrowing in mild confusion. "Already?" he asked, sounding a bit unsure. The thought of the reclassification had clearly been on his mind, but he hadn’t expected it to come so soon.

Lilly nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yes, sweetie. We don't want to be late. Why don't you get up and stretch your legs before we head out?"

Obediently, Olaf pushed himself up from the floor, his movements a bit clumsy as he shifted his weight. Then, with a soft sigh, she stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out to gently pat the front of his pull-up.

"Uh-oh, Olaf," Lilly said, her voice laced with gentle teasing as she placed her other hand on his padded bottom. "Looks like someone’s a bit soggy. Did you forget to tell Mommy you had an accident?"

Olaf's cheeks flushed a deep red as he looked down at himself, his eyes widening in embarrassment. "N-No..." he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the dampness of his pull-up now that it had been pointed out.

Anna couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him as she watched the scene unfold. She could see how much it bothered him to be caught off guard like this. Lilly gently guided Olaf over to the corner of the room where his potty chart hung on the wall. “Come on, sweetie,” Lilly said softly, her tone warm but firm. “Let’s put another cloud on your chart, okay?”

Olaf’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he nodded, clearly embarrassed by the ritual. He hesitated for a moment, but under Lilly’s gentle guidance, he picked up the blue marker and drew another cloud in the appropriate square. The marker squeaked slightly against the chart, a sound that seemed to echo in the room, making Olaf cringe a little.

“There we go,” Lilly said with a soft chuckle, ruffling Olaf’s hair affectionately. “Such a good boy.”

As Olaf stood there, looking up at the chart with a mixture of embarrassment and resignation, Lilly couldn’t resist adding a bit of teasing to the situation. “You know, Olaf,” she began, her voice playful, “if you keep this up, maybe this will be your last pull-up. If you get reclassified as a toddler today, we will switch to diapers full-time. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Olaf’s eyes widened in surprise and mild horror at the idea, but before he could protest, Anna, who had been quietly watching the interaction, decided to join in.

“Or,” Anna chimed in, trying to help Olaf smile, “maybe this will be your last pull-up because you’ll be allowed to grow up, Olaf. Maybe they’ll finally let you wear big boy underwear again.”

Olaf face showed a mix of confusion and hope, the idea of being allowed to grow up again clearly appealing to some part of him that still clung to his former sense of independence.

But before he could latch onto that hope, Lilly gently shot it down with a playful smirk. “Oh, Anna, you know Olaf’s too incontinent to ever go back to normal underwear. Even if they let him grow up, it’ll probably still be in pull-ups,” she said with a lighthearted laugh. “I mean, we wouldn’t want him having too many big boy accidents, would we?” Olaf shifted again, this time more awkwardly, caught between the two women’s contrasting views of his future.

Anna couldn’t help but smile at Lilly’s fierce defense of Olaf’s regression, though she knew better than to push the subject further. It was clear that Lilly had a vision for Olaf’s life that involved a lot more clouds on that chart, and perhaps even the inevitable transition to diapers full-time.

"Well," Anna said with a light shrug, "we’ll just have to see what the reclassification decides, won’t we?" She winked at Olaf, who gave her a small, uncertain smile in return.

Lilly gave Olaf’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Alright, let’s get you into a fresh pull-up before we head out, okay?” she said, her voice softening again. “We can’t have you going to your reclassification all soggy.”

Olaf nodded quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as Lilly guided him over to the changing area. She moved with practiced ease, quickly removing the damp pull-up and replacing it with a fresh one, giving Olaf a suppository for his nerves. The crinkling sound filled the room as she snugly fastened the sides, her hands gentle but efficient.

“There we go,” Lilly murmured, smoothing out the front of his pull-up before giving him another reassuring smile. “All set. Now, you’ll be nice and comfy for the big day.”

Once Olaf was dressed, the three of them made their way to the door.