#keep the kiddos pure

[gurorori]

um

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[pathologicalreid]

xoxo | s.r.

in which your daughter goes to the BAU to hand out her extra Valentines

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: horrible tooth rotting fluff, chemist!reader and leah, the spencer reid dilf agenda, valentine's day, reader wears pink (it's FESTIVE) word count: 1.47k a/n: happy valentine's day my loves!!!!

You had just finished helping your daughter put her visitor badge over her head before she proudly approached the two agents manning the security desk.

She brandished two Valentine’s Day cards for them, grinning while they looked down at her in surprise. You watched them tentatively take the cardstock from your three-year-old while she teetered back and forth in her pink Mary Janes. They thanked her while you pulled your visitor badge on. “C’mon, Leah,” you said, holding your hand out for her to take, “Let’s go see Daddy.”

“Daddy!” She chirped, her pure, childhood joy causing people in the lobby to stare. Most people were already vaguely aware of who she was, and even if they weren’t, it’s difficult to be truly bothered by a kid wearing heart antennae. Adjusting her grip on her basket of Valentines, she led you to the elevator, practically dragging you through Quantico.

Her hand couldn’t quite reach the button in the elevator, accidentally hitting the number four while wavering on her tippy toes. “Here, lovey,” you said, reaching over her and pushing the number six for her.

Leah beamed up at you. “Thank you,” she whispered, lowering herself and standing next to you, tugging on your pink sweater in an attempt to get your attention—as if she had ever lost it. “You wanna Valentine?” Her voice was soft, as if you were exchanging state secrets in the elevator, sweetly leaning her head against your leg. She stumbled over the name of the holiday a bit, replacing the second ‘n’ with an ‘m.’

“I’ll get one after everyone else,” you reassured her, adjusting her headband and smiling at the way the hearts bobbled.

She nodded confidently, making faces at her reflection in the elevator doors as you continued your way up.

You held your breath as the doors opened, once again holding your hand out for her to take so you could enter the bullpen in an orderly fashion, but as soon as they were open, she had taken off, the door being held open for someone else, leaving a perfect gap for her to slip through. There was barely enough time for you to call, “Incoming,” before she ran directly into Luke.

Thanking Anderson for holding the door for you, you followed Leah into the bullpen at a much slower pace and locked eyes with your husband, sighing in relief at the fact that you’d made it with little stress.

Your daughter had already been rescued from a room full of tall people by Dave, who’d hoisted her onto someone’s desk, so they were nearly at eye level. “Happy Valentime’s, Dave,” she said excitedly, urgently rifling through her basket to find a treat that she deemed worthy of his receipt.

Rossi smiled at her, “Happy Valentine’s Day, kiddo. What have you got there?” You weren’t sure if he was faking interest for the sake of your toddler, but either way, you were grateful for the opportunity to sneak by them, approaching Spencer’s desk.

He powered off his computer monitor as you leaned on the edge of his desk. “Hey,” he greeted, leaning his head up so you could plant a quick kiss on his lips. “Did she have fun?”

You nodded, peeking over your shoulder to see Dave walking Leah around to hand out Valentines to the entire office. “We severely underestimated the number of parents who keep their kids home for Valentine’s Day,” you informed him. Leah’s daycare class had been nearly empty when you picked her up early.

“What does that mean for us?” He asked, placing his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze.

Raising your eyebrows, you grinned impishly, “It means we’re bringing a lot of lollipops home with us.”

Spencer chuckled, eyes following Leah as she made her way to Emily’s office, jumping up the steps and giggling at the sound effects that Tara made when she landed. “How was your morning?” He asked nonchalantly, and since nothing Spencer ever did was nonchalant, you knew he was on a fishing expedition.

The corners of your mouth quirked up while he shuffled the papers on his desk, preparing to spend his lunch with you and Leah. “Oh, I dropped Leah off and then went to work. I only had one class to teach, Physical Chemistry, as you know. I had some time before I needed to be back at the daycare, so I decided to stop at home and found a large bouquet of red and pink roses on the kitchen counter. They didn’t belong there, so I tossed them in the trash before heading here.”

“You did not,” Spencer challenged, grinning up at you, pushing his tongue against his teeth like he did when he was holding in a laugh.

You laughed breathily, hiding your smile behind your hand until Spencer reached up and took your hand in his. “No,” you acquiesced, “But I have no idea where we’re going to put two dozen roses.”

He pretended to think about it for a moment. “How about the kitchen counter?”

Humming, you leaned down to kiss him again. “Works for me,” you murmured to him on your way back up. You turned your head to find your toddler, seeing that Penelope had made her way to the bullpen and was putting a red feather boa around Leah’s neck.

Listening in on their conversation, you frowned when you overheard Leah complaining that the boa wasn’t pink. “Leah,” Spencer called her name, having overheard the conversation himself. “What do you say to Aunt Penelope?”

The three-year-old spun around, stumbling a bit when she tried to come to a stop, before looking up at Garcia and jumping, “Thank you! Matches my butterfly ears!” She fumbled the word ‘butterfly’ a bit in all of her excitement—bubberfly.

Your husband looked at you, confused. “Butterfly ears?”

“Antennae, obviously,” you told him, shaking your head in faux disappointment that he didn’t understand what she was talking about.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Hey, princess, c’mere,” he said, waving over your daughter.

You waved to JJ and Emily as they joined the impromptu gathering, with everyone in the bullpen watching while Leah skipped over to her dad. “Hi, Daddy,” she greeted, lifting her arms for him to pick her up, which he did happily.

“Hi, baby. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he replied, sweeping a stray strand of hair from her forehead. He’d left before you got her dressed this morning, so he hadn’t been able to see her in her festive outfit, complete with a pink and red tutu.

Comfortably sitting in her father’s lap, she giggled when he tickled her side. “Happy Valentime’s Day, Daddy,” she managed to squeak out. Sighing when he finally gave her a break, she asked, “Lunch?”

You smiled softly, “Soon, lovey.” The three of you had planned to do lunch as a family, and Penelope had promised to take Leah for a sleepover so you could go out for dinner—you were nervous, and she was thrilled.

She kicked her feet contentedly, telling Spencer about the cards she had given away at the security desk in a hushed voice while you watched an exchange across the bullpen. Luke was leaning toward Tara, holding his lollipop in his hand, “What flavor did you get?”

Tara peered at him suspiciously. “Blue raspberry,” she replied.

“I’ll trade you a green apple,” he offered, extending his arm out for the swap.

Turning in her chair, Tara scoffed, setting her Valentine on her desk, “Not a chance.”

A small gasp to your side caught your attention. “No trades, Newbie!” Leah shouted from her perch.

Instead of turning on your daughter, Luke immediately pointed at Garcia, “You coached her!”

Penelope feigned offense, holding a hand to her chest and looking around the bullpen, “It is my duty as her godmother to warn her against certain people.”

“Meaning me?”

“If the shoe fits, Newbie,” Penelope replied, leaning against a vacant desk while she awaited Luke’s response.

He looked over at Leah now. “How did she even hear me?”

You shrugged. “She has freakishly good hearing; we’re thinking of having her tested.”

Spencer nudged you at your joke, smiling slightly, “She saw you.”

Sighing in defeat, Luke gave Leah an exaggerated pout, “I’m sorry I tried to make a trade. Can you forgive me?”

Leah nodded with a toothy smile. Luckily, she was three, and things were easy to get over. “Hey, do I get a Valentine?” Spencer asked, playing with the hearts on her headband.  

Humming, she shifted on his lap. “Mommy put all of the pink ones in a baggie for us.”

You flashed a grin back at your husband, pulled a Watermelon lollipop out of your purse, and handed it to him. “I’m very good at what I do.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

dinner prep engagement ♡

a/n : aaaand its finally here, the final part of the ring pop proposal miniseries after decades !!!! im sorry it took me so long to write this final part yall, i just finally felt enough inspo to write it and im super happy w how it came out ! i hope yall do too ! lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist ! much luv xx

fem reader, literally pure fluff between mama n son, katsuki gets emotional very quickly bc i believe he does and you cannot make me think otherwise, a lil emotional but pure sweetness, mentions of making dinner, lmk if i missed sum else !!

this time, mitsuki has no idea what her son is planning. sure she’s had her hopes for years now, and her suspicions, but nothing truly concrete.

that is, until she gets a call in the middle of the night.

"katsuki..hello ?" she answers groggily, heaving a sigh and rubbing at her eyes. she checks next to her to make sure she hasn't woken her husband up, her eyes dart over to her digital clock " 'ts one in the morning."

"uh..hey." her son's gruff voice sounds over the phone, she raises a brow at his hesitant tone of voice, but she let's him continue "yeah, i know. sorry.." he mumbles out.

the older woman shakes her head affectionately "it's fine..is there something you wanted to talk about ?"

it's silent on the other end for a while until katsuki mumbles something. "katsuki, you know i can't hear you if you don't speak up." she scolds lightly, causing him to growl under his breath.

"not..not right now, no--just..can i come over tomorrow ?"

taking in her silence for hesitance he continues " it's nothin' bad..i just--feel like it's something i needa say face to face, i guess.."

"okay..yeah, of course. you know you can come over whenever you want." she urges "is yn comin' along ?"

"no, she isn't." she can practically hear his eye roll and it makes her smirk "she'll be busy tomorrow anyway so, not this time. i'll tell her you said hello though, since you're always tellin' me to."

she's about to retort when katsuki speaks again, only not to her. she hears what she knows is your voice quietly chatting with him as he reassures you that he'll be right there with you and for you to go back to bed. the soft tone in his voice makes her eyes soften.

never could she ever have imagined her katsuki ever speaking so softly to anyone, because her katsuki is, despite having calmed down over the years, still quite the brat. (she's pretty sure she knows where he gets it from now..) he's still temperamental when interviewers and journalists get on his nerves. he's still awfully moody , but he's different now. he's just a little bit gentler with the way he handles kids or older women who's cats have gotten stuck in trees. complaining that this isn't his damn job but still doing it anyway with utmost care as the kitties sink their sharp claws into his skin or cling to him for warmth.

he's a still a little rough around the edges but it's the thought that counts. he's different than when he was younger, but he still is the most different with you. his rough and gruff voice that he uses to bark out orders and complain, complain, complain, he uses so softly around you, keeping you as calm and sleepy as possible. it's not perfect, but he manages to usher you back to your room to sleep, and that makes the thought count so much more.

"m'gonna go now." he warns, his mother hums in agreement, telling him she'll see him tomorrow and he reciprocates the goodbye.

"night, ma."

"night, kiddo." she grins, a happy sigh leaving her when she hangs up the call and lays back down. cozying herself up next to her husband.

she's had her suspicions and her hopes for a while now, but she can't be too sure what her son could possibly want from her tomorrow.

katsuki comes back home like he's never left.

the day goes like any other day would've went a few years ago when he was still living in the family home. mitsuki almost expects her son to run off upstairs to do his homework.

he greets his dad with a half hug, and is forced into a tight embrace by his mother, which he grumbles about. grumbles turning into a growl when she grips his cheek, scolding him for not greeting his mother properly.

it's a lot of catching up from the few months he's been busy with hero work. talking about his latests achievements and his quick climbing of the hero ranks, accompanied with barely suppressed smiles and softened eyes when you're brought up. mitsuki remembers how nervous he'd been when he'd told her he was planning on asking you to move in with him, so she's happy to hear from the both of you, since she has your number and you like to catch up every now and then, that everything was going well. though she already knew it would.

katsuki volunteered to help with dinner, his mother happily agreeing saying she could use some help. it makes her a little bit nostalgic and she wills herself not to get teary eyed at how much her son has grown.

but she sees that the opportunity has presented itself to bring up the topic that's been on the tip of her tongue the entire day now.

"so.." she sings "you wanted to talk about something, right ?"

katsuki stiffens like he'd forgotten, although his expression stays the same besides the slight squint of his eyes. the rhythmic cutting of vegetables has stopped and it takes him a moment before he speaks quietly like he's revealing a secret.

"i wanna ask yn to marry me."

oh.

so that was it.

"oh." she breathes immediately. a broad smile slowly grows onto her face and she beams "took you long enough, ya brat !" she exclaims, slapping her sons muscular arm. he growls lowly at her, leaning away from her though she remains undeterred. poking at his sides while he tries to smack her hands away.

finally, she relents "when are you gonna ask ?" she asks excitedly. katsuki huffs, eyebrows still heavily furrowed from her earlier attack. he turns back to the cutting board "soon. i arranged my schedule and we'll both be free, so in two weeks from now."

"you already have a ring ?"

he grunts in agreement. and mitsuki besides being proud of the fact her hunch was right, feels her heart warms at the burst of nostalgia of her little boy. her katsuki, kicking his feet in the backseat of her car. tightly gripping his bag of ring pop candies he'd give to you the next day. her little katsuki, who'd proudly claimed he was going to marry you when he grew up in that very same car, exclaiming that he'd proposed to you with those very same candies he'd almost had a tantrum over her not getting.

her little boy, who'd gotten oh so big, and so, so much more enamoured with you.

"good." she utters sweetly, voice just a bit wobbly "good. that's great, katsuki."

he nods to himself " i've thought about it for a while now..long while." he scoffs to himself, eyes focused on the cutting board in front of him. "got the whole day planned out too."

"yeah ?" he nods. her eyes soften as he speaks mostly to himself, he's had this little self hype up habit ever since he was a boy. trying to calm himself down and reassure himself. it's a smart move, but as strong and mature as he is, katsuki is nothing more than human. and anxieties can creep up on the best of us.

she's seen it before, and she sees it again when he bites his bottom lip in thought, and she smiles softly.

and again, she coaxes him into it " that sounds nice, looks like you got it all planned out, huh?"

and he nods again. but it doesn't take him, long before he breaks.

"..what if she says no ?"

and mitsuki wants to laugh. she really does, because the thought of you ever saying no to him sounds absolutely ridiculous to her. she snorts. shaking her head while her son looks at her incredulously.

"katsuki.." she tuts, chuckling to herself before she looks up at him. "you've got absolutely nothing to worry about. you've got it."

his eyes widen, then her son's expression drops as he raises a brow "how do you know that ?" his words make her smile widen this much more and she really wants to laugh.

how does she know. she scoffs

she knows because she knows him. she knows her katsuki better than anyone else, he's her son. she knows he's rude, rowdy, quipy, temperamental and everything else. he's all of that and so much more.

and yet you still love him. you're still so incredibly patient with him, you still offer him all of your kindness despite him once confessing to her he doesn't understand how you do. despite all of the times he's messed up, the times he's fallen down, you stay by his side you care for him, you care about him.

she knows her katsuki is absolutely infatuated with you, he always has been. from tantrums about being separated in class and knowing your favourite ice cream flavour to him being overly protective over you when you were paired up with your lab partner that ended up not being him and to him wearing the stupid stuffy tux mitsuki tailor made for him to take you to prom.

you've always been his number one best friend, but he's always been yours as well : he loves you, but you love him just as much.

and so mitsuki smiles "call it mother's intuition. and, not to brag, but i think most of my hunches have been right by now" and it widens when katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes at her boasting, another bratty little habit he has that he's practically mastered over the years. she sighs, spreading her arms out towards him "well come over here. you've gone and gotten so damn tall, i can't reach you myself !" her son rolls his eyes again, but he scoffs softly to himself and with a shake of his head, he closes the distance and hunches over to hug his mother. she wraps her arms around him tightly and he grumbles when she squeezes but he doesn't try to get away.

"there's nothing for you to worry about, katsuki. absolutely nothing." she repeats, rubbing his back. "you love each other, and that's more than enough. just be yourself, it's been working out for you this far..somehow." she jests. katsuki scoffs indignantly but they both end up chuckling about it. after a few more seconds they pull away and mitsuki pats her son's chest with a sniffle. right on top of his heart that she knows, she's seen, has gone through oh so much.

but still remained entirely yours throughout all the years and still so so so enamoured with you.

gripping onto his shoulders, she whispers "you got this." the glossiness in his eyes is impossible to miss, he's always cried very easily. but she guesses she mirrors his expression exactly. her son is the spitting image of her after all. she places a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

"thanks, ma" he whispers sincerely. and mitsuki feels her heart soar.

"any time."

during dinner, katsuki announces the news to his father. who after getting over his shock immediately wraps his son into a hug. congratulating him and encouraging him with teary eyes, she knows where katsuki gets that from, before they all settle down to have dinner before katsuki leaves a few hours later. waving off his mother's insistence to pass you a greeting with a grumbled acknowledgement.

she shakes her head as her and her husband watch him drive off but her heart is full of pride.

"we raised a killer son didn't we ?" she giggles looking back at masaru, who agrees with a smile as they share a laugh.

and the next time you both come over, you're giddy. unable to keep your excitement in check as you keep excitedly looking back at katsuki, who finally relents with an affectionate sigh and you happily show off you're ringed finger with a squeal.

mitsuki squeals right back, wrapping you up in the tightest bear hug she could. masaru takes his turn hugging you, sweetly congratulating you both. of course, they'll tell you they both new in advance, but that was all for later.

sure, she didn't know what her son was planning in advance, but she had her hunches and her funny feeling from all those years ago that you'd be sticking around. she guesses it's good enough that she was the first to be told.

she sends her son a proud and teasing smile when they make eye contact. he rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face doesn't fade as he watches you talk with his father. she doesn't have to say a single word for him to know what she's saying.

i told you so.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn @kvk6433gkcigv @coolgirl458 @beekeepingageissome

[glossykissies]

. . . thinkin’ about hot neighbour nonsupe!ben who you just can’t control your expressions around . . . ૮꒰ྀི > . < ꒱ྀིა 

it’s not your fault. he’s hot, he’s old, he’s big and strong and he has you absolutely bouncing off the mattress. you don’t care who knows — sorry, let’s rephrase. you want everyone to know.

ben has finally allowed you to be his girlfriend. not that the grumpy old fuck didn’t want it, hell— who wouldn’t want it? but he’d just moved into the neighbourhood and for a while he just wanted to keep things relatively drama free, and that means not banging your 20-something year old neighbour and having everyone in your small town treat you like some kind of mass murderer for defiling the peoples princess. if he was gonna do this, he wanted to keep it a private affair. he just wanted an easy life. privacy. no one in his business.

but then he remembers your cute little face looking up at him when you’d knock on his door asking him to fix your air conditioning (again) and the way you came round to borrow some salt and immediately took your shoes off at his door even though you didn’t need to and just looked so familiar and comfortable in his presence. or, his brain flies to the way you squat over his lap and cried as you tried to cram him all inside your sopping hole at once and whined “i — lemme take it all — i can get it in jus’ go slow!”

so now he’s got a girlfriend in her early twenties. and he fucking likes it.

especially, and he won’t admit it, but especially when you’ve got this giant hulk of a man standing in a queue to buy you an iced vanilla oat milk matcha. he won’t get his own one but he’ll try some of yours.

his arms are crossed over his chest, thick biceps pinned to his own body but you hang off one�� having slot your hand beneath it just to hang off him. he’s looking ahead, scowling at the hipsters and teenage baristas and overpriced drinks, probably going on some whole monologue in his mind about how ‘back in his day, you could get a coffee for bla bla bla, and there was no iced drinks just pure hot coffee etc etc etc.’

but you’re gazing up at him. gazing doesn’t feel like a appropriate word because your eyes are telling a different story with a load of bad words. you’re scanning his profile, from his tired eyes to his strong nose to the lines on his face. you’re one soft sigh off a quiet moan, drool pooling inside your mouth with the overwhelming urge to drop to your knees and spit on his cock right there and then. everyone can see you. everyone can tell that this man is splitting your cunt open. it’s enthralling.

“you don’t think a nine dollar drink is a little uh… fuckin’ ridiculous?” he drawls, voice deep and aged. you suck your bottom lip, not listening a word handsome.

when you don’t respond he leisurely drags his gaze over to you, stares back before shifting his stance to turn his body a little more toward you, which in turn drags you closer by the way you’re still gripping his arm like a vice.

“whats with the look, kiddo?” his voice is flat because he knows.

“mm.” is all you say with a giddy, watery eyed little smile.

the barista says “next please!” and he unfolds his arms, letting your hand drop. you usually would have pouted about this but he briefly cups the back of your neck, just firm enough to send you spiralling into that dumb brain space that makes your panties sticky. his thumb strokes the pulse point on your neck and he raises his eyebrows, lines of age in his forehead.

“didn’t dump enough cum in that pussy this morning babysweet?” he asks like it’s completely normal, and just as your eyes gloss over he’s stepping up to the front desk, leaving you frozen behind. “yeah i’ll take one of those fuckin’ green iced things. oat milk.”

[imsiriuslycool]

streamer!ellie x streamer!reader headcannons ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

warnings: none, just pure fluff. also, this is one of my first times posting and my first language is not english so let me know if you have any tips!

✰ ellie was known for being the chaotic streamer who used the word “chat” way too much and who rage quit every five minutes. you were the sweet one, cozy games and an aesthetic setup. you had a secret little crush on her. nothing much. what you didn't know was that she was a big fan of you too, never missing a single stream.

✰ you were both pretty big streamers and she mentioned you. her fans lost it, making fun of her for getting all flustered, accusing her of having a crush. soon enough that clip went viral.

✰ when you saw that clip, you dm´d her asking for a collab, just a chill minecraft stream to keep your fanbases happy. the stream went more than well, and collabs soon became a habit. even living hours apart, you two seemed to have a really deep connection.

✰ she was definitely the teasing as a way of flirting type. was constantly making fun of your aim when you tried shooting games and would compliment you just to brush it off when you blushed.

✰ she confessed to you on a random late night facetime call. you were in your apartment laying in bed and she just blurted it out. the next day you were already driving to see her. you spent some days at her place, dreading the thought of even having to leave.

✰ you finally started dating, and she was just so happy to call you hers. even after you went home, you kept calling and playing together constantly. when you finally went public, the whole internet lost it.

✰ she was constantly saying “my girl” this and “my girl” that, never ever getting tired of talking about you. her fans teased her for it, but she just laughed it off.

✰ after that semester ended, she fought with all she had to get transferred to your college. when she finally did, you both rented an apartment together. it was amazing, the perfect blend of chaos and coziness. the place soon started feeling like home.

✰ she would show her chat random pictures she took of you and just go “CHAT LOOK AT MY GORGEOUS WIFE” or “HOW THE FUCK DID I PULL THIS GODDESS?”. she would curse a lot, and you would constantly scream “Language!” only for her to grin and answer “Me? English, why?”

✰ would have those funny ass shirts that just say “I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND” or “BE GAY, DO CRIMES”. She would wear them on streams and try to wear them outside, only to be forced to take them off and change by you.

✰ you both have matching gamer chairs, the same model just in different colors. the same with your dinosaur stuffed animals. you also both love childish pajamas, like she will be walking around the house in some minecraft pants and shirt and you will be vibing in an hello kitty onesie. it´s your thing by now.

✰ when you met joel, you were terrified to say the least. you held ellie´s hand the whole time. but he eventually warmed up to you and got more comfortable. (once he called you kiddo and you nearly started bawling)

✰ she makes up a cool handshake with you, that she forces you to do at every possible moment. it always ends with a small kiss and you both giggling like two little kids. speaking of kisses, she absolutely LOVES public displays of affection. always holding your hand or waist and stealing kisses every now and then.

✰ you get so domestic it´s insane. just cooking together and watching shitty movies and going grocery shopping and streaming together. it all feels so so so perfect.

that´s it! love you all so much!

[myownwholewildworld]

A DARK COMFORT ― a Boston QZ!Joel oneshot

series masterlist | ao3 pairing: Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader. summary: it is that time of the month and Joel helps you by fucking the pain out of you. a/n: joel is the type of man who loves his woman every day of the month and i will die on this hill. this is purely self-indulgent, sorry not sorry? as always, comments, likes and reblogs are much appreciated <3 take care! x warnings: 18+, mdni. pwp honestly. period sex. period blood. use of a menstrual cup. reader is dealing with period pain, cries a fair bit. cock as pain management. cockwarming. unprotected piv. creampie. mind the hefty age gap (reader is 19, joel is 56, oopsie). pet names (kiddo, daddy's girl, little girl, etc). daddy kink. dom!joel, sub!reader. ddlg dynamics. a bit of mean!joel too. a sprinkle of slut shaming. reader is a blank slate with no backstory, has hair. only reader's pov. no use of y/n. w/c: ~2.5k. divider by @\cafekitsune

You squirmed, pain radiating from your womb in all directions, your toes curling under the bedsheets and fingers tight into fists.

This didn’t happen every month, but when it did, it hit you like a motherfucking truck, almost rendering you unconscious. Your period could be a bitch sometimes, making you feel moody and restless. Like now. Your uterus had a mind of her own, wanting to escape and run free into the world. The pain was blinding, disarming you until you were a sobbing ball on Joel’s bed, desperately clutching at your lower belly, begging for this to be over.

But your cramps were not the worst part of it, no.

Your boobs were. They were so sensitive, the light brush of your bra hurt like hell. Heavy and swollen, they were extremely sore to the touch. Your nipples had tautened, buds painfully wrinkling — your areolas were so oversensitive it felt overwhelming. You couldn’t even touch them without tearing up.

“Kiddo?” Joel called from the living room, but you didn’t answer.

You were focusing all your energy on keeping the pain at bay, couldn’t think of anything else right now. So out of it you were, you hadn’t noticed Joel had entered the room until he sat beside you on the mattress.

“What’s wrong?” he husked, the palm of his calloused hand rubbing your back.

Your brows furrowed, the pain from your lower back momentarily chased away by his caress.

“I'm hurting real bad, daddy. My belly, my back, m-my boobs...” You whispered, pouting, trying to stop the tears.

“My little girl is hurting?” he tsked, his hand moving from your lower back to the swell of your ass. “Can’t have that. Let daddy help you, kid.”

Without voicing your agreement, Joel’s fingers hooked around the elastic hem of your pyjama pants and tugged at them whilst curled up on your side.

You writhed a little when your bottoms and underwear were pulled down to your ankles.

“Daddy... I-I’m on my period...” you sniffled, glassy eyes following the motions of his hands as he untangled the clothing from your feet and threw the items to one side.

Joel didn’t even flinch.

“So? I’m still gonna help. C’mere,” Joel palmed his lap.

You quietly obliged, sitting up on bed while pain shot in all directions. It was so intense it caught you off guard, bending over at your waist while you wailed and hugged yourself.

Joel stood up in front of you, scooping you up. Driven by pure instinct, you laced your hands behind his neck, holding on as he walked you both to the bathroom.

Once there, he put you down on the toilet bowl and coaxed your thighs apart whilst kneeling in front of you. You looked at him shyly, trying to press your thighs together, feeling really exposed right now.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel tutted at you, warm palms on your inner thighs as he pulled your legs further apart. “Nothing to be shy about, kiddo.”

As he spoke, his middle finger had found your clit and pressed it gently. But despite the softness of his stroke, it still hurt.

You hissed in pain, hips bucking up as you grabbed his shoulders, your nails leaving bloody crescent moons behind. You shut your eyes and tilted your face to the ceiling, mouthing a silent prayer.

Luckily he didn’t insist, and instead his fingers travelled further down until they found the removal ring of your menstrual cup.

When he started pulling, your eyes shot open, and your fingers wrapped around his wrist to stop him from removing your menstrual cup.

“Joel...” you mumbled.

This felt so intimate, so personal, you didn’t think your hormones could take it.

“Trust me, kiddo. It’s just blood. It’ll make you feel better,” he whispered in reply at the same time he tugged at the removal ring and the cup broke its seal.

The splashing underneath sounded vile, a stream of blood dripping from your hole until the water in the bowl turned a deep shade of red.

You looked away, ashamed right now of your own body. But Joel wouldn’t let you feel the embarrassment, his words reassuring.

“I’m here to take care of you, baby. Even when you’re all moody and giving me the silence treatment for no reason whatsoever,” he said while standing up to grab a towel and wet it under the sink. Joel then crouched down in front of you again and wiped your pussy clean delicately. “You gotta learn to voice your needs, kiddo.”

“I'm sorry I’ve been a bitch to you the whole day, daddy. I just... I don’t know what I need,” you sobbed apologetically, sweeping the tears from your cheeks.

“I’ll show you what you need, so next time you know to ask for it,” he replied matter-of-factly, throwing the cup and the towel in the sink. “Can you walk?”

You nodded and submissively followed him back to the bed. Still standing there, naked from the waist down and a white tee shirt covering your chest, you watched Joel make himself comfortable on the bed.

When he unzipped his jeans, his hard erection sprung free, slapping his lower tummy. Joel scooped up his balls too, spilling over the worn fabric, and then stroked his length a couple of times.

Your pussy gushed, and you were not sure if it was your arousal or period blood. The sudden contraction of your inner walls sent a shiver up to your abdomen, another cramp making your tear up.

“Sit on him,” Joel purred, extending a hand towards you to help you get onto the bed.

“But...” you hesitated, hugging your shoulders with uncertainty. “I’m dirty, daddy.”

“Sit. on. him,” he growled, punctuating every word. “Don't make me repeat myself again.”

Still hesitant, you accepted his hand and jumped onto the bed, turning around on his lap so you were straddling him backwards. Joel’s broad hands rested gently on your hips as the flushed tip of his throbbing dick flicked your clit. You bit down your bottom lip, eyelids brimming with tears again. It was just too much, so your pussy hovered over his manhood indecisively.

“You’re not dirty, little girl. It’s blood, ain’t nothing wrong with that,” he croaked, kissing your neck.

Joel guided your hips, wiggling them a bit until his cockhead hitched in your wet entrance. Slowly he pushed you down his shaft, your cunt eagerly swallowing him whole until he was fully seated inside you, his balls kissing your swollen pussy lips.

Your walls burnt as they parted to house him, a sting of pain shooting up your body again as you gripped Joel’s forearms for support. You sobbed quietly, feeling full to the brim.

“Relax, kiddo,” Joel muttered, peppering your neck with kisses.

You took in a big breath and leaned your back against his chest. Joel didn’t move at all, letting you get used to the intrusion until you finally calmed down, the pain dissipating with every passing second. A few minutes later as you cockwarmed him, your cramps were completely gone.

Joel’s hands roamed your body, massaging your flesh gently — your thighs, your hips, your lower belly. He was so delicate but still put the right amount of pressure on your muscles to slacken.

You let go of a throaty sigh when his palm pressed against your lower belly and remained there for what seemed to be a long time. The added pressure on your womb felt good, but felt even better because now the presence of his thudding dick in your pussy was staggering. The only thing you could think about.

You circled your hips, grinding on him, but his hands were quick to clasp on your hips and stop you right in your tracks.

“I said relax, don’t move,” he ordered from behind you.

You did as told, squirming a little but remaining still.

After a while, the dull ache in your womb was gone, but the one on your breasts and nipples became more prominent. Joel felt your restlessness and without telling him what you needed of him, both of his hands drifted up your frame and below the tee shirt until they gently cupped your underboobs.

You whimpered when the textile of your bra brushed harshly against your sensitive buttons.

“Get rid of the bra and the tee shirt, they are not doing you any good, sweetheart. The fabric is just gonna hurt your pretty nipples even more,” he advised, tone raspy.

Leaning forward a bit, you removed your tee shirt and the bra quickly followed after that, flying across the room as you slouched back again against him. The moment you did, Joel began massaging your boobs, gentle but firm squeezes moulding your flesh but completely avoiding the nipples.

At first, it hurt too, your prickly buds so painful it was almost unbearable. You whined again, but that didn’t stop Joel, who kept on kneading your breasts, working and easing the swell of your bosom slowly but steadily.

“M-my nipples hurt, Joel… It’s like they are on fire… It’s too much…” you sobbed, resting the back of your head on his shoulder, little breaths reaching your lungs as you hiccupped.

“They are so sensitive, aren’t they?” You nodded, eyes shut and wet. “I know, kiddo, I know. You poor little thing…”

His tone wasn’t mocking but tinged with worry. He did care about you, otherwise Joel wouldn’t be taking all this time to ease your pain, to soothe you. And it was working, because his cock, deeply furrowed inside you, was keeping the cramps away.

“I’m gonna touch them, alright? Might hurt a little first, but the pain will go. Okay?” he husked and you shook your head yes. “Daddy’s girl is so good, so strong. Just push through the first sting of pain and you’ll be fine.”

The moment his thumbs flicked your nipples, you hummed in pain, squeezing your eyes shut, your nose wrinkling with effort as your top teeth sank into your bottom lip. You even stopped breathing as Joel pressed gentle circles on your sensitive, taut nubs.

“J-Joel… God… They hurt so bad… Please make it stop,” you sobbed and begged, tears running down your warm cheeks.

“Shhh, it’s alright… Deep breaths, baby,” he coached you by inhaling and exhaling loudly so you would follow his lead. “Attagirl, keep going.”

When your breathing stabilised, Joel covered both of your nipples with his palms, fingers gently digging in your meat as his hands moved in circles, rubbing your painful buttons until they were warmed up and soft again. You sighed heavily, the pain slowly disappearing whilst his rough palms smothered your nipples.

Finally, you had no pain at all. Your womb felt tight warming his girthy cock, squeezing him sweetly, and your boobs, although still swollen, were like putty while Joel cradled them. With the pain gone, now there was room for something else — a warm pulsing in your core, commending you to look for the final release that would wipe out any background ache.

“You’re ready now, aren’tcha?” Joel gritted out, biting your shoulder as his cock pulsated between your vibrating walls. “My little bitch’s in heat. This is how you deal with it, kiddo. You just need my cock ruining your pussy and then you’ll feel better.”

You squirmed in agreement, moving your hips in circles on his lap. Suddenly your skin was extremely hot to the touch and your pussy was clamping down around his girth.

“Daddy, please,” you implored, your clit burning with desire now.

“I don’t appreciate how moody you’ve been today, so much fucking attitude. You gotta behave better than this,” he scolded you, gripping your breasts tighter. “I’m letting it go this one time, but next I won’t be as understanding. Got it?”

All the gentleness he had showered you with until now was gone, anger simmering under the surface of his skin. You could feel it irradiating from him.

You were so overwhelmed, so horny now, you couldn’t reply.

“Use your words, kiddo. I want to hear you apologise,” he snarled, one hand releasing your boob to travel down your chest until it reached your puffy pussy. Joel rubbed your clit and you screamed, seeing stars behind your eyes. “Speak.”

“Yes, daddy. I’m sorry. I’m so s-sorry. I’ll behave better next time I’m in heat. Please forgive me,” you beseeched, feral with lust.

“Good girl,” his fingers left your clit and clutched your unattended breast again. “Now bounce on me. Make me come.”

You didn’t need any further instructions. With the push of your knees, you began bouncing on him while Joel cradled your breasts. Your drenched pussy was so wet with your arousal and your own blood, the squelching sounds lasciviously filled the room. You jumped on his shaft as fast as you could, his mushroom head kissing your cervix every single time, sending you over the edge to the point where your eyes were constantly rolled back and your agape mouth drooled.

The whole thing felt sinful, but so damn good. So good, a few minutes later you were both coming. Joel’s warm spent filled your pussy to the brim as he moaned behind you uncontrollably, your cunt clenching around his circumference to milk him completely dry. Your own climax hit you like a brick wall as you fell to the abyss of your pleasure, heaving like a maniac.

Joel’s rugged breathing told you you had met his expectations, his hands gently roaming your body again. When you came down from your high, you leaned forward to unplug your gushing opening, but Joel’s hands on your hips stopped you from doing so.

“No, kiddo. Stay where you are. You don’t want the pain to come back, do you?”

“But the blood…” you trailed off, looking down to where you were joint like mating dogs.

Dark blood pooled on his empty nuts, mixed with the slick of your shared arousal. A red trickle ran down his thighs, staining the bedsheets underneath. Now that the haze of pleasure had dissolved, it felt ungodly, dirty, shameful even.

“How many times do I need to say it? Don’t worry about the fucking blood,” he sneered, slightly exasperated with you. But you couldn’t help yourself.

Your bottom lip trembled with his reprimand, the hormones rushing through your system with free will.

Joel sighed, hugging you until your back was resting on his chest again, his cock still plugging your opening.

“Don’t cry. Sorry, kiddo,” Joel nuzzled your cheek before kissing it. “I know this is your first time with period sex, but it’s been good, hasn’t it?” You nodded shyly, looking at him askance. “If you ain’t hurting now and feel satisfied, don’t worry about anything else.”

His words calmed you again. Joel was right. It’d been good — more than good, if you were to be true to yourself. The pain you had been suffering for hours was now a ghost of the past all thanks to Joel.

“Thank you, daddy,” you hushed, tilting your head in an invitation.

Joel bowed down, his tongue meeting yours, wrestling until you were out of breath. When the kiss broke, you giggled.

“Don’t mention it, kiddo,” Joel replied, his hands finding your breasts again to massage them as you cockwarmed him.

[eternally-racing]

baby steps | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 

genre: fluff

warnings: none 

word count: 2.5k

summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?

note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !

---

When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 

The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 

“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 

You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.

“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 

“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”

While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 

“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 

“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 

Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 

You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 

“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 

Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.

 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.

—

The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 

Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 

But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 

“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 

“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 

Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 

When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 

“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 

You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 

“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 

Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 

“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 

“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 

The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.

At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.

“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 

Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 

“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 

You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 

It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 

It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.

You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 

“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.

“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

----

author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

STUCK WITH ME- D. GRAYSON

day twenty two of the june bug masterlist

pairing: camp counsellor! dick grayson x camp counsellor! fem! reader

word count: 1.4k

summary: you're forced to spend your time (the whole summer) with dick grayson, someone you can't stand. why the two of you were paired up to be consellors, you'd never understand...

warnings: pure fluff and teasing, enemies to... lovers? heh

“you are stuck with me- so i guess i'll be sticking with you are stuck with me- so I guess i'll be sticking with you"- stuck with me, the neighbourhood

“Don't look at me like that.” you scoffed, staring straight ahead at the open lake in front of you.

Not meeting his obvious gaze, focused in a different direction then yours.

“Like what?”

“Like that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about pumpkin.”

Your body whipped to him,finger already ready for the jab to Dick Graysons chest.

“And do not call me pumpkin.”

He chuckled, baby blues refusing to leave yours. There were two rules you had for yourself for your time at Nightwing Summer camp. The first was to not let a child die under your watch. The second being not to fall for your fellow camp counsellor, Dick Grayson.

The smug, charming little (tall) man who was so perfect it made you sick. The cocky bastard had everyone wrapped around his pretty little finger, and you weren't falling for it.

So it was your main mission to avoid him at all costs. However, that became quite difficult when you were assigned to the same group. It took everything in your body not to audibly groan when you saw the sheet of paper stuck up in the breakroom before the kids had all arrived.

Your name next to his.

A metaphorical binding of your two fates intertwining for the next three months.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, instantly calling your group to start getting out of the water and heading to their cabins to change for dinner. Distracting yourself from him at all costs. Him and that stupidly annoying grin, and that curl of inky hair that always falled into his face.

He got under your skin, and he knew it. He then, therefore made it his top priority to stay there.

“And do not call me sweetheart.” you grumbled as you turned, trailing after the kids and leaving him in the dust. He chuckled, that boyish grin plastered across his face that you could feel without physically looking at it. That grin haunted you like the plague.

Running a hand through his hair, he jogged to catch up with you, and you tried so hard to not turn your gaze slightly to stare at the massive biceps that were tanned and visible due to the muscle shirt he wore.

Boo. You whore.

“One day this summer, you're gonna like me.”

You snorted, focusing on the ground ahead of you. The rocks and twigs on the old dirt path through the forest, back to the main camp, were way more interesting anyways. “Keep telling yourself that Grayson.”

You refused to give him the satisfaction of calling him by his first name. It was too personal. Too intimate. “You’ll see.” he shrugged, starting to whistle a tune into the tree branches above. God help you.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─── ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─── ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

Dick Grayson did not stop staring at you, per your request.

But why would he? Why would this man listen to a word you said in any capacity?

His eyes remained on yours in the dining hall, even though his conversation was held with the kiddos around him. The dark orbs pierced you from across the bonfire, the flames licking up to illuminate his face in shadows. It was the one time you two could be separated, as the nightly bonfire was a time for everyone to mingle around freely. And yet, he couldn't seem to let go of you.

You couldn't shake him off. And every part of you told you to stare right back, to challenge him to some kind of mental fight. But if you looked too hard, you felt something churn in your stomach.

Something that wasn't nausea, as much as you told yourself that.

Butterflies. Those cursed, damned things.

So you focused your eyes elsewhere, anywhere you could. “I think Dick is staring at you.” one of your kids said as she sat down next to you, handing you a brush and elastic.

Aria, your little rockstar. She had some sass to her, but you saw yourself in her. She was your summer daughter, and you loved her as a sister. You began your routine of brushing her hair, parting it into sections before you began to braid it.

“What do ya think I should do Ari? Go over and gouge his eyes out?”

The eleven year old giggled. “Maybe. But I thought you liked him.”

Your eyes bulged. “You think I like him?”

She shrugged, and you tugged a little tighter on her locks, snugging the braid tightly before tying it off. “You look at him like you do sometimes. My mom always says the ones you think you hate, you secretly like. You look like you want to choke him sometimes.”

You couldn't help but laugh, covering your face with your hands.

Fuck she was kind of right. Why was an eleven year old girl more observant than you?

“Go get me a smore Ari, and no more mentioning Grayson if you know what's good for you.” you teased, wagging your finger at her with a smile plastered across your face as she scurried off to make you a treat over the campfire.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─── ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─── ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

It was just you and him under the moon and the stars. The fire had pretty much died down completely, nothing but small embers burning in the charred pit.

And yet, you couldn't find it in your body to get up and go to bed.

You were not tired yet. You didn't want to be tired yet. You stared off into the distance, to where the lights were out in the childrens cabins, nothing but little night lights for little light. You hadn't noticed Dick slip into the shadows of the night, suddenly sliding to sit beside you on your log.

“You have marshmallow on your face.” he murmured, making you jump.

“Jesus Grayson don't scare me like that.” you huffed crossing your arms over your chest protectively. He didn't respond, just licking his thumb before he was rubbing the corner of your lips, where you felt the sticky residue.

Somehow, it had landed on your cheek as well.

Embarrassing.

Your breath hitched in your throat, choking you of making some snarky comment as he intensely observed your face for any other trace of the marshmallow on your skin. You shouldn't like how close he was to you. You shouldn't like you could so clearly smell the campfire smoke mixed with his husky cologne, or the fact you could count each eyelash that fluttered against his cheek.

It was too much. Too soon.

You couldn't cave this easily yet, and yet- you couldn't find it in yourself to move away.

“There. Now you’re s’mores free.”

“Thank you.” you whispered, regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. That damn smug smirk was plastered on his face at fact you had thanked him.

“Careful sweetheart, we wouldn't want it to sound like you like me, now would we?”

You rolled your eyes, darting them to stare at the ground beside him. His hand never left your face, cupping your jaw as he turned it, making you look at him.

And god you hated it. You hated how much of an effect he had over you. He was close enough to kiss.

Close enough you could just lean forward and press your lips to his… 

He turned his head slightly, eyebrow raised as if he was studying you. Observing you, trying to get a read. You didn't have enough time to put your hardened mask back into place.

“You look like you want to kiss me.”

You froze. Guilty.

“You don't know what youre talking about.”

“I’m sure I don't about many things.”

You did want to kiss him, just a little. His lips looked so soft and tempting. But you wouldn't give him that satisfaction. You didn't need to boost his ego anymore than it was already.

“Have a night Grayson.”

You turned,his hand slipping from your skin, already feeling cool to the touch. You needed to go to bed. You were suddenly exhausted. He made you exhausted. The facade you put up around him made you exhausted.

“You’re stuck with me, you know.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you asked.

“Whatever you want it to be. But just know, we have three months together. You’ll have to cave at some point.”

You just shrugged. “Maybe you’ll cave first.”

You turned, the moonlight illuminating your path as you started to turn to make your way back to your quarters. His words followed you all the way back, loud even over the chirping cicadas and cooing owls in the branches.

“Oh darling I already have.”

This was going to be a long summer indeed.

[lila-lou]

✨Twenty-One - 1/4✨

Summary: You thought this trip was just a chance to unwind — until the door opened and Jensen Ackles was standing there, larger than life and way too real. Now you're spending your birthday week in his house, trying not to lose your mind over your childhood crush who, somehow, keeps looking at you like you’re not just some kid anymore.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, kinda immoral

Word Count: 6636

DISCLAIMER: Everything is purely fiction. I do not intend to attack or hurt anyone. The story is, of course, entirely made up and meant for entertainment purposes. I love them all.

AJ grinned as she rang the doorbell, clearly excited about your reaction to this trip. You, on the other hand, felt your stomach twist into knots. It wasn’t every day you were about to meet Jensen Ackles—a man you had grown up admiring, crushing on, and now, somehow, about to spend time with in the flesh.

The door swung open faster than you expected, and there he was.

Jensen Ackles stood in the doorway, casual yet effortlessly attractive in a plain t-shirt and jeans, his green eyes warm but curious as they landed on you. His light brown hair was slightly messy, like he’d just run his hand through it.

“Hey, kiddo”, he greeted AJ with a grin, pulling her into a quick hug before turning his attention to you. “And you must be Y/N. Heard a lot about you”.

Your brain short-circuited for a second. He heard about you? You barely managed to return his smile without looking like a total idiot.

“Uh—yeah. That’s me. Y/N”, you said awkwardly, cursing yourself immediately for sounding like a socially inept robot.

AJ laughed and nudged your side. “She’s just nervous. Big fan and all”.

Your eyes widened as you turned to glare at her, mentally screaming. She wasn’t supposed to say that! That was the last thing you wanted him to know.

Jensen chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Oh yeah?”, he teased, clearly amused. “Supernatural fan?”.

You swallowed hard. “Uhm—yeah. I mean—kinda”.

His smirk deepened, and you knew he knew. “Well, that’s good. At least you won’t be completely freaked out staying here for the week”.

You blinked. Wait, what?

AJ turned to you with a wide grin. “Yeah, forgot to mention that part. We´re staying here. Dad’s got plenty of space, and this way, we don’t have to waste money on a hotel”.

Your mouth went dry. A whole week… in Jensen Ackles’ house?

Jensen patted your shoulder lightly, the simple touch making your skin tingle. “Make yourself at home, Y/N”, he said, his voice smooth and warm. “It’s gonna be fun”.

And just like that, your already dangerous crush on him? It just got a hundred times worse.

As AJ disappeared into the kitchen, already rummaging through the fridge like she owned the place—which, to be fair, she kind of did—you found yourself alone with Jensen.

He smiled down at you, his green eyes studying you with an easy warmth. “So, you and AJ met at the shelter, huh?”, he asked, leading you through the house at a relaxed pace.

You nodded, still feeling slightly on edge just being here. “Yeah, about a year ago. I worked there while studying, and AJ came in for her internship”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “That sounds like her. Always wanting to do a little bit of everything”. His voice was deep and smooth, the kind of voice that could make reading a grocery list sound interesting.

“Yeah”, you agreed softly. “She’s… definitely a lot more outgoing than me”.

He glanced at you, his expression turning thoughtful. “Not a bad thing”, he said, stopping at the base of the staircase. “Sometimes, the quiet ones have the most to say. Just takes the right person to listen”.

Your stomach flipped at his words. Did he just say something that deep… about you? Before you could even think of a response, he motioned toward the stairs. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying”.

You followed him up, trying your best not to let your eyes wander, except that was nearly impossible. The man was built like a damn Greek god. Broad shoulders, muscular back, those strong arms… it should’ve been illegal for someone to look that good in just a t-shirt.

“This is you”, Jensen said, pushing open a door at the end of the hall. The room was spacious but cozy, with a queen-sized bed, a soft gray comforter, and a window that overlooked the backyard.

“Wow”, you breathed, stepping inside. “This is… really nice”.

Jensen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “Good. I want you to feel comfortable here. And if AJ gets too annoying, you can always escape in here”.

You smiled at that, your nerves easing slightly. “Thanks. That’s… really nice of you”.

He tilted his head, watching you. “It’s your birthday tomorrow, right?”.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Uh—yeah. How’d you know?”.

Jensen smirked. “AJ’s been talking about it for weeks”. He pushed off the doorframe, his presence effortlessly commanding even in such a relaxed stance. “We’ll have to do something special”.

Your heart skipped a beat. Jensen Ackles wanted to do something for your birthday?

Before you could embarrass yourself by overthinking, AJ’s voice called from downstairs. “Dad! You seriously have nothing good to eat! What kind of house is this?”.

Jensen sighed, shaking his head as he turned. “Guess I need to feed the gremlin before she starves”.

You let out a soft laugh, watching as he walked away. As soon as he was gone, you flopped onto the bed, face-first, groaning into the pillow.

A whole week here. With him. You were so screwed.

You had barely kicked off your shoes and sat up when Jensen’s deep voice echoed from downstairs. “Y/N! What do you want to eat?”.

Your brain short-circuited for a second. He was asking you? Like, personally? Not just assuming you’d go along with whatever AJ wanted?

You scrambled to the doorway, hesitating before calling back, “Uh—whatever’s fine! I’m not picky!”.

There was a pause, then his voice came again, closer this time. “That’s not an answer, kid”.

Your stomach flipped at the nickname. Not that it was unusual, he probably called people around AJ´s age “kid” all the time, but coming from him? It did something to you.

You took a deep breath, stepping out of your room and heading toward the stairs. “Um… pizza?”.

Jensen appeared at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “There. Was that so hard?”.

Your face burned as you shrugged. “I just—didn’t want to be a bother”.

He scoffed. “You’re staying in my house, Y/N. You better tell me what you want to eat. I don’t need you passing out on me”.

AJ suddenly popped out from behind him, a bag of chips in hand. “Yeah, trust me, Dad. Y/N gets all quiet when she’s hungry. It’s creepy”.

You rolled your eyes. “I do not”.

“She totally does”, AJ confirmed, shoving a chip in her mouth. “She’s like a little sad puppy until she eats”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his phone out. “Alright, pizza it is. Any topping requests?”.

You hesitated for half a second, but AJ was already answering for you. “She loves pepperoni and extra cheese”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “That true?”.

You nodded, feeling oddly exposed by how well AJ knew you. “Yeah”.

Jensen grinned, nodding as he scrolled on his phone. “Good choice. You and I are gonna get along just fine, Y/N”.

You swallowed hard at that, ignoring the way your heart did a weird little flip. Get it together. He was just being nice. Like a dad.

AJ, of course, wasn’t about to let you off the hook. “She’s also a total freak about garlic bread”.

Jensen looked up, amused. “Oh yeah?”.

AJ nodded, grinning like she had just exposed your deepest secret. “Like, I swear she’d marry a loaf of it if she could”.

You groaned, covering your face. “AJ, shut up”.

Jensen just chuckled, already adding it to the order. “Alright, garlic bread for the birthday girl”.

Your stomach twisted. Oh. Right. He knew.

It wasn’t that you hated birthdays, but growing up, they were never big for you. No extravagant parties, no expensive gifts, just a simple cake, maybe a dinner if money allowed. So hearing Jensen Ackles, the man you had crushed on for years, say it so casually? It felt… weird.

Nice. But weird.

“AJ mentioned you’re turning 21”, Jensen said, locking his phone and glancing at you. “Big milestone. We should do something fun”.

AJ perked up. “Oh! Can we take her out?”.

You froze. “Wait, what?”.

AJ turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. “Dude, it’s your 21st birthday. We have to do something! A bar, a club, something!”.

Jensen smirked, crossing his arms. “You’re still eighteen, AJ. You’re not going anywhere”.

AJ groaned dramatically. “Ugh, technicalities”.

You, on the other hand, were too focused on the part where Jensen was apparently planning your birthday now. “I—I don’t know”, you stammered, suddenly nervous. “I hadn’t really planned anything. It’s not a big deal”.

Jensen scoffed. “Yeah, not happening. You only turn 21 once”.

AJ gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Ooooh, Dad, you should take her out!”.

Your entire body went stiff. “What?!”.

Jensen just raised an eyebrow at his daughter’s enthusiasm. “Uh…”.

AJ clapped her hands together, already hyping herself up. “Yes! Think about it. You know all the cool places, she’s never been to LA before, and she needs to live a little! It’s perfect”.

You opened your mouth to protest, because what the hell was she even suggesting?!, but Jensen only chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well… guess I don’t mind playing chaperone for the night”.

AJ grinned at you. “See? Perfect”.

You stared at her, absolutely betrayed. “AJ, what are you doing?”, you whispered, mentally panicking.

She just smirked. “Giving you the best birthday ever, duh”.

Jensen stretched, cracking his neck. “Alright, pizza should be here soon. You two go set the table or something”.

You barely registered his words. Your brain was too busy spiraling. Because tomorrow night? You were going out. With Jensen Ackles.

You grabbed a couple of napkins, setting them next to the paper plates while AJ plopped down on the couch, watching you with a mischievous grin. “We need to doll you up”, she declared, tossing a napkin onto the table.

You groaned, already knowing where this was going. “AJ—”

“I’m serious!”, she cut in, sitting up and pointing at you. “You’re so pretty, but you always dress so… lamely”.

Your face heated up. “I do not”.

AJ gave you a look. “Y/N, I love you, but your entire wardrobe is, like, neutral colors and jeans. Do you even own a dress?”.

You hesitated. “…Maybe”.

AJ gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, maybe?!”.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. “Not all of us have unlimited shopping sprees, AJ”.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Money has nothing to do with it! You just need to, like… embrace your hotness”.

You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”.

AJ grinned. “Dude, you’re gorgeous. But you hide behind all these boring clothes and oversized hoodies”. She wiggled her eyebrows. “And since you’re spending your birthday night out with my dad, we need to upgrade your look”.

You froze. “AJ, it’s not like that—”.

“Oh, please”, She smirked. “Dad’s gonna be in full ‘protective mode’, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look hot”.

Your face felt like it was on fire. “AJ, I am not dressing up just to—”.

“Too late”, she sang, already pulling out her phone. “We’re raiding my closet after dinner. I have so many things that’ll look amazing on you”.

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “You’re really set on this, huh?”.

AJ grinned. “Absolutely”.

Before you could protest again, the doorbell rang.

“Pizza’s here!”, Jensen’s voice came from the hallway.

AJ clapped her hands, jumping up. “Saved by the pizza. But don’t think I’m letting this go”.

You groaned, running a hand down your face as she skipped off to the door. Tomorrow night was going to be a disaster.

Dinner had been surprisingly easygoing. A lot of small talk, mostly AJ dominating the conversation while you and Jensen occasionally chimed in. He was easy to talk to—casual, funny, even a little sarcastic—but still, every time he looked at you, you felt hyperaware of yourself. Like he could see right through your nervous energy.

But then, once the pizza was mostly gone, Jensen leaned back in his chair, stretching a little before fixing you with a serious look. “Alright, birthday girl”, he started, “if we’re going out tomorrow, we gotta set some ground rules”.

You straightened slightly, feeling weirdly like a teenager getting lectured by a parent. “Rules?”.

Jensen nodded. “Yeah. First off, no posting about it online. I’m not super hounded by paparazzi, but I also don’t need some rando snapping pics of me in a club with a 21-year-old and spinning it into some weird-ass headline”.

That… made sense. You hadn’t even thought about that. You nodded. “Yeah, of course”.

“Second”, he continued, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m picking the club. I know a few spots that are discreet. Last thing you need is to deal with a bunch of drunk superfans losing their minds because they recognize me”.

You swallowed. Right. Because he was Jensen freaking Ackles. Just because he was so casual about it didn’t change the fact that millions of people worshipped him.

“And third…”. He hesitated for a second, then smirked slightly. “Look, I know you’re young, but just—don’t do anything stupid. Don’t disappear, don’t take drinks from strangers, and for the love of God, don’t hook up with some dude in the club bathroom”.

You nearly choked on your drink. “Jensen!”.

AJ screamed from across the couch, doubling over in laughter. “OH MY GOSH. AS IF”, She was gasping between giggles. “Dad, she’s—she’s the biggest virgin ever”.

Your eyes widened in horror. “AJ, what the hell?!”.

Jensen, to his credit, just raised an eyebrow, looking highly amused. “That so?”, he mused, taking another sip of beer.

You covered your face with both hands. This was not happening.

AJ was still cackling. “I swear! She’s like, scared of flirting. It’s adorable”.

You groaned, wanting to sink into the floor. “Oh my God, can we not talk about this?”.

Jensen smirked. “Alright, alright. No judgment, kid”.

The way he said it, so damn casually, made your stomach do something stupid. Like he wasn’t laughing at you, just… observing.

AJ wiped tears from her eyes, still giggling. “I love this. This is the best day ever”.

You glared at her. “You’re the worst”.

She just grinned. “And yet, you love me”.

Jensen shook his head, still looking entertained. “Alright, enough embarrassing Y/N for one night”. He pushed up from his chair, stretching. “I’m heading to bed. You two don’t stay up all night”.

AJ saluted dramatically. “Yes, Dad”.

You were still burning with embarrassment as Jensen walked past, clapping your shoulder lightly. “Don’t let her bully you too much, kid”. And with that, he was gone, leaving you a mess on the couch while AJ kept laughing.

The next day passed in a blur. You had tried to distract yourself, watching movies with AJ, helping clean up the kitchen, and avoiding thinking too hard about the fact that tonight, you’d be going out with Jensen.

But, of course, AJ had other plans. “Alright, birthday girl”, she announced, throwing open her closet doors dramatically. “Time for your transformation”.

You sighed, standing near the doorway. “I don’t need a transformation, AJ”.

She turned to you, hands on her hips, like a mom about to scold her child. “Yes, you do. You’re turning twenty-one. You’re going out for the first time. You are not—I repeat, NOT—going in your usual boring outfit”.

You huffed. “It’s not boring. It’s just comfortable”.

AJ gave you a look. “We are not prioritizing comfort tonight. We are prioritizing hotness”.

You groaned. “AJ…”.

She ignored you, already digging through hangers, tossing options onto her bed. “We need something sexy but not too much. Hot, but classy. Like… ‘Oops, I didn’t mean to be this attractive, but here we are’”.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s… weirdly specific”.

AJ gasped suddenly, pulling out a sleek, form-fitting black dress. “This. This is it”.

Your eyes widened. “AJ, that’s… tiny”.

She scoffed. “It’s not tiny, it’s perfect. Try it on”.

You hesitated, but one look at AJ’s dead serious expression told you there was no way out of this. Fine. You grabbed the dress and disappeared into the bathroom. When you slipped it on, you barely recognized yourself. It hugged your body in all the right ways, the hem stopping mid-thigh, the neckline just low enough to be dangerous. You stared at your reflection, heart pounding. Was this really you?

“Are you done yet?!”, AJ’s voice called impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out.

AJ’s jaw dropped. “FUCKING. SHIT”.

Your face burned. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”.

AJ shook her head so fast you thought she might get whiplash. “Too much?! No, this is—this is perfect. Like, I almost want to cry. My little Y/N is finally embracing her hotness”.

You groaned. “Please stop talking”.

She ignored you, circling around like she was inspecting her masterpiece. “You’ve been hiding this under your oversized hoodies all this time?”. She gasped.

Before you could argue, a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Jensen’s voice came through. “You two ready yet?”.

Your stomach twisted into a knot at the sound of Jensen’s voice. Ready? That was debatable. AJ, of course, had no hesitation. She threw open the door, revealing Jensen standing in the hallway, dressed in a fitted black button-up with the sleeves rolled up just enough to ruin your life.

His gaze landed on you—and froze.

For the briefest second, you swore you saw his breath hitch. His eyes flickered down, taking in the dress, the way it hugged your figure, and then just as quickly, he cleared his throat, looking away.

“Well, damn”, he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “You clean up nice”.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to act normal. “Uh… thanks”.

AJ, meanwhile, was beaming like she had just won the lottery. “Told you she looked hot”.

Jensen shot her a look. “Alright, that’s enough”.

AJ just laughed, linking her arm with yours and dragging you down the hallway. “Come on, let’s eat. You can’t party on an empty stomach”.

Dinner was surprisingly… nice.

Jensen took you both to a quiet restaurant, low lighting, a cozy atmosphere, nothing too fancy, but still nice. AJ did most of the talking (as always), but you couldn’t help but notice the way Jensen would glance at you every now and then.

Little things—making sure you liked your food, refilling your drink before you even realized it was low. It wasn’t anything obvious, but it made your stomach flutter all the same.

When dinner wrapped up, Jensen tossed his credit card on the table before you or AJ could even pretend to argue.

AJ stretched dramatically. “Alright, time to go. Birthday girl has a club to get to”. You paused. Right. The plan. Jensen was dropping AJ off at home first, then… then it was just you and him. Alone. In a club.

By the time you pulled up to AJ’s house, she was already half-asleep in the backseat.

Jensen shifted the car into park and looked back at her. “Alright, kiddo, inside you go”.

AJ blinked groggily. “Ugh. Fine”. Then she turned to you, smirking just enough to let you know she was still AJ. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”.

You rolled your eyes. “Which is…?”.

She grinned. “Nothing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do”.

Jensen groaned. “Out. Now”.

AJ laughed, hopping out of the car. “Love you both! Don’t be lame!”.

And just like that, it was just you and Jensen. The car was suddenly too quiet.

Jensen exhaled, gripping the wheel for a second before looking over at you. “You ready for this?”.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding. “Yeah. You?”.

He smirked, shifting the car into drive. “Let’s find out”.

The drive to the club was quiet, but not exactly uncomfortable. Just… charged.

Jensen had one hand on the wheel, his other resting casually on the gear shift, his fingers tapping lightly as he drove. The streetlights cast quick flashes of gold across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline, the slight crease in his brow.

You, on the other hand, were trying not to lose your mind.

It wasn’t like this was a date, not even close, but the fact that you were alone with Jensen Ackles, dressed like this, going out for your birthday… it felt like something you shouldn’t even allow yourself to overthink.

But, of course, you were overthinking it anyway. After a moment, Jensen glanced over at you. “You good?”.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… haven’t really done this before”.

He smirked, eyes flicking back to the road. “First time clubbing?”.

You exhaled. “Yeah. Not exactly my scene”.

Jensen let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, figured as much”.

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”.

He shrugged, lips twitching. “You just seem… more like the ‘cozy night in’ type. Movie marathons, takeout, that kind of thing”.

Your heart skipped. He had known you for barely two days and somehow already had you pegged. “…Not wrong”, you muttered, crossing your arms.

Jensen smirked. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll make sure you survive”.

You swallowed. Kid. That damn nickname. You weren’t sure why it bothered you tonight. Maybe because you didn’t feel like a kid. Not in this dress, not sitting next to him like this, not with the way his voice sounded so smooth and effortless.

You needed a distraction. “So, why are you even doing this?”, you asked, shifting in your seat. “Taking me out, I mean”.

Jensen hummed, considering for a moment. “Well, AJ was very insistent”.

You huffed. “Yeah, that sounds like her”.

He glanced at you again. “And… you only turn twenty-one once. Figured you deserved a proper night out”.

Something about the way he said it—calm, certain—sent a shiver down your spine.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “You do this often?”.

Jensen chuckled. “What, take barely legal girls to clubs?”.

Your face burned. “Oh my God—that’s not what I meant”.

He just laughed, shaking his head. “Relax, kid. I know”. Then, after a beat, he added, “And no. Haven’t really gone out much lately. Not my scene either, honestly”.

That surprised you. “Then why—?”.

He smirked. “Told you. Birthday rule. Plus, if I don’t do it, AJ will never let me hear the end of it”.

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “She really does have you wrapped around her finger”.

Jensen sighed dramatically. “Tell me about it”.

The car slowed as he pulled onto a side street, the bright neon lights of the club flickering in the distance. He put the car in park, then turned to you, his expression suddenly more serious.

“Alright, some more ground rules”.

You straightened, nodding. “Okay”.

Jensen held up a finger. “One—stay where I can see you. I’m not dealing with you disappearing on me”.

You swallowed. “Got it”.

“Two—if any guy gives you trouble, you come find me”.

Your breath caught slightly. “Uh… okay”.

“And three—”. He leaned back, giving you a smirk. “Try to have some fun”.

You exhaled a laugh. “I’ll… do my best”.

Jensen grinned, then unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let’s go, birthday girl”.

Your stomach twisted as you stepped out of the car, the music from inside the club already thumping through the pavement. You weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the excitement making your heart race. But either way… there was no turning back now.

The bass from the club pulsed through the pavement as you followed Jensen toward the entrance. The neon lights cast an electric glow over everything, and for a moment, you wondered what the hell you were doing.

This wasn’t your scene. Not even close. But somehow, being here with him made it feel a little less terrifying.

Jensen walked up to the bouncer like he’d done this a hundred times before. The guy at the door barely glanced at him before unhooking the velvet rope. “Good to see you again, man”, the bouncer said, nodding.

Jensen smirked. “Appreciate it”.

You blinked. Wait.

“You know the bouncer?”, you asked as you followed him inside.

Jensen shrugged. “Told you, I picked a place that’s… familiar”.

You stared at him. “What does that even mean?”.

But Jensen just grinned. “Come on, let’s get a drink”.

The club was packed. Music blasted from the speakers, the air thick with heat and the scent of alcohol. Colorful strobe lights cut through the haze, illuminating the crowd of bodies moving in sync with the beat. Jensen led you through the mass of people, his hand hovering near the small of your back—not touching, but just close enough that you felt completely hyper-aware of his presence.

When you reached the bar, he turned to you. “What’s your poison?”.

You hesitated. “Uh… I don’t really know”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. First time and all”. He turned to the bartender. “Two whiskey sours”.

Your brows lifted. “Oh, we’re starting with whiskey?”.

Jensen smirked. “Trust me”.

The drinks arrived quickly. You took a cautious sip, the mix of citrus and smooth burn of whiskey hitting your tongue. “Okay”, you admitted. “Not bad”.

Jensen raised his glass. “Happy birthday, kid”.

You huffed. “Still with the ‘kid’ thing?”.

He smirked, taking a sip. “Force of habit”.

You rolled your eyes but clinked your glass against his anyway. As you drank, you let yourself take it all in. The music, the lights, the fact that you were here, in a club, drinking with Jensen Ackles. The absurdity of it all made you laugh under your breath.

Jensen arched a brow. “What?”.

You shook your head, smiling. “Just… this isn’t how I thought I’d spend my twenty-first birthday”.

Jensen leaned against the bar, smirking. “Better or worse?”.

Your stomach flipped. You licked your lips, setting your drink down. “Still deciding”.

He chuckled. “Well, we’ve got the whole night. Let’s see if I can change your mind”.

Before you could respond, the music shifted—something fast, infectious.

Jensen tilted his head toward the dance floor. “You gonna dance?”.

Your eyes widened. “Oh, uh… I don’t really—”.

“Bullshit”. He smirked. “Come on. Let’s see what you got”.

Your pulse skyrocketed. “Wait—you mean… with you?”.

Jensen just grinned and held out a hand. You stared at it, heart hammering. This was so not a good idea. And yet… You took his hand.

Jensen’s hand was warm, his grip firm but easy, like this wasn’t a big deal. Like he wasn’t dragging you onto the dance floor in the middle of a crowded club. Your brain screamed at you to protest, to tell him you weren’t much of a dancer, that this was dangerous territory.

But you didn’t. Because the second he pulled you into the crowd, the music swallowed you whole. The bass thrummed through your chest, the lights flashing in shades of blue and red, bodies moving all around you in time with the rhythm. You barely had time to catch your breath before Jensen turned to face you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Relax”, he said over the music. “It’s just dancing”.

Just dancing. You exhaled sharply, trying to convince yourself of that. But then Jensen moved. He didn’t go all-in right away. Just a casual sway, easy and effortless, his body rolling with the beat like it was second nature. His hands stayed at his sides, giving you space, but his eyes? They were right on you. He was watching. Waiting.

Your pulse skyrocketed. Okay. Fine. You could do this. You started slow, mirroring his movements, testing the rhythm. It wasn’t that you couldn’t dance, it was just that you never had, at least not like this. Not with him.

Jensen grinned when he saw you loosen up. “There you go”.

The music picked up, and without thinking, you let your body move. The alcohol in your system helped, making you just a little bolder, a little less aware of your own awkwardness.

And then, Jensen stepped closer. Not too close. Not inappropriate. But close enough. Close enough that when the beat dropped, and you turned slightly, his hand found your waist, just for a second, just barely there. Your breath hitched.

He leaned in, his voice low, just above your ear. “See? Not so bad”.

You swallowed. “Not bad”, you managed, but it didn’t sound nearly as casual as you wanted it to.

Jensen smirked, his fingers brushing your waist again, so light, so subtle, you almost could have imagined it. But you didn’t. Because when your eyes met his, there was something different there. Something that made your whole body hum with awareness.

The song shifted again, something slower, heavier. Jensen didn’t move away. Neither did you. And just like that, the air between you changed. It was no longer just dancing. It was something else. Something neither of you had expected.

Your pulse was out of control. You barely thought as you grabbed your drink, tipping it back in one go, the alcohol burning its way down your throat.

Jensen watched, his smirk deepening. “Damn, kid”.

You ignored the way that nickname made your stomach flip, setting the empty glass onto the nearest table. When you turned back, Jensen was still right there, his green eyes glinting under the flashing club lights.

Then, before you could process what was happening, he reached for your hand. And spun you. A quick, fluid motion—his fingers barely grazing yours—until suddenly, your back was against his chest.

He wasn’t touching you—not fully—but he was close. Close enough that you felt the heat of him, the warmth of his breath as it fanned across your shoulder.

And now? Now, you were really dancing.

The beat pulsed through your veins, your body moving with the rhythm. The hesitation you’d had before? Gone. The alcohol, the music, the way Jensen’s presence wrapped around you like a second skin, it was all too much, and at the same time, not enough.

You let your hands lift slightly, swaying to the beat, and that’s when it happened. Jensen’s fingers, just barely, brushed against your hip. It wasn’t much. The lightest touch. But it sent a sharp jolt through your spine.

You swallowed hard, hyper-aware of him now. The way his body moved so easily behind you. The way he still wasn’t touching you fully, like he was waiting. Testing. Like he was seeing how far this could go.

And you? You weren’t stopping him.

Another beat, another sway. His fingers pressed—firmer, deliberate—just at the curve of your hip. Your stomach tightened.

“Still with me?”. His voice was low, rough, right against your ear.

Your breath stuttered. “Yeah”.

Jensen hummed, a sound that rumbled through your back. “Good”.

You didn’t know how long you danced. Didn’t care. Because for the first time in your life, you weren’t overthinking. You were just feeling. And damn, did it feel good.

Hours had passed in a blur of music, lights, and the heat of Jensen’s presence. You had danced longer than you ever thought possible, had another drink (or two, who was counting?), and somewhere along the way, you had lost every ounce of hesitation.

Now, however, reality was hitting you all at once.

You weren’t wasted, but you were definitely buzzed—that loose, giggly kind of drunk that made the world tilt just slightly when you walked.

And Jensen? He was handling you. Not in an overbearing way. Not in a “let’s go, you’re done” way.

No. He was calm. Collected. Like this wasn’t the first time he had to lead a tipsy twenty-one-year-old out of a club.

His hand rested firmly at your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, his grip steady whenever you swayed too much. “You’re lucky you’re a fun drunk”, he murmured as he pulled open the club’s side door, letting in the crisp night air.

You giggled, feeling way too warm. “What’s a not fun drunk?”.

Jensen smirked, keeping his pace slow as you walked toward the parking lot. “The crying ones. The aggressive ones. The ones who throw up in my car”.

You gasped dramatically. “I would never”.

Jensen huffed a laugh, unlocking the car. “Yeah, well, let’s keep it that way”.

You felt light. Giddy. Like this whole night was floating around you in some hazy, surreal dream. When you reached the passenger door, you turned, swaying slightly. “You know…”, you started, tilting your head. “You’re really good at this”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, amused. “At what?”.

You blinked slowly, trying to find your words. “Taking care of people”.

His smirk softened just a little. “Comes with the territory”.

You hummed. “Yeah… you’re like… a responsible, sexy bodyguard”.

Jensen froze. Your own brain stalled. Did you—did you just say that out loud? A beat of silence.

Then, Jensen smirked. “Sexy, huh?”.

Oh. My. God. You slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide. “Forget that. That wasn’t—that was nothing—”.

Jensen laughed. Like, full-on laughed. “Alright, lightweight, let’s get you in the car before you start confessing more things”, he teased, opening the passenger door.

You groaned, hiding your face. “I hate myself”.

Jensen nudged you toward the seat, still smirking. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll let that one slide”.

You huffed as you slid into the car, your face on fire. Jensen shut the door, walking around to the driver’s side. You exhaled deeply. You needed sleep. Water. A new identity, maybe. Because fucking shit. You just called him sexy.

The second Jensen started driving, you knew you were in trouble. Your head was still spinning, your body warm from the alcohol, the dancing, and—let’s be honest—him.

You couldn’t just sit here in awkward silence after what you’d said. You had to fix it. “I just meant”, you started, turning toward him in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, “you’re, like, objectively attractive”.

Jensen’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Oh no.

“Like—like, obviously. People would agree”, you continued, rambling. “You’ve got, you know, the whole… thing going on”.

He raised an eyebrow. “The thing?”.

You gestured vaguely. “Yeah. The voice, the muscles, the face. You know”.

Jensen exhaled sharply through his nose. “Shit, (Y/N)”.

You panicked. “But not, like, in a weird way! I just mean you’re, like… manly. Like, rugged. You’ve got that whole strong, protective, could-break-someone-in-half vibe”.

Jensen’s jaw flexed. His grip on the wheel went white-knuckle tight. You were making this worse. You gulped. “Like—not that I’d want to be broken in half, obviously—”.

Jensen let out a rough breath, shifting slightly in his seat. You had no idea that your innocent, drunk little rant was currently making his dick twitch. But it was. Because all he could think about now was you—dressed like that, pressed against him on the dance floor, moving without hesitation. And now, sitting in his car, talking like this. About him.

His jaw was tight. “Y/N”.

You perked up. “Yeah?”.

Jensen huffed. “Stop talking”.

Your mouth snapped shut. For a second, you swore the air in the car felt different. Heavy. Charged. You glanced at him, blinking. “Did I—did I say something wrong?”.

Jensen exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “No. You just… need to stop before you dig yourself in deeper”.

The rest of the drive was tense, but not because of any argument or discomfort. No, the tension was something else. Something thicker, heavier. Something Jensen should not have been feeling.

You sat there, legs crossed, fiddling with the hem of your dress, clearly buzzed and completely oblivious to what you had just done to him. To be fair, you didn’t know any better. You were young. Inexperienced. Completely innocent in ways you didn’t even realize.

And Jensen was not. That was the problem. That was why his grip was too tight on the steering wheel. That was why his jaw clenched every time your soft little voice rambled about how manly and strong he was.

Because you didn’t even realize what you were saying. Didn’t realize that any other man your age would’ve jumped at the chance to take advantage of the fact that you were sitting here, flushed and tipsy, calling him sexy without a second thought.

Didn’t realize that the words could break someone in half had sent a sharp, unwelcome pulse straight through him. Because he could. And that was the worst part—because you? You were so damn soft. So untouched. So sweet and nervous and trying so hard to make things right.

And here he was, a man nearly twice your age, trying not to think about how warm you’d felt against him hours ago. How easily you had melted into him when he’d spun you on the dance floor. How your breath had hitched when he touched your waist.

And now, you were sitting there, cheeks pink, babbling in that innocent little voice, so damn unaware of the effect you were having on him.

Jensen swallowed hard. This was not good. Not at all.

Then, your voice cut through the silence. “Are you mad at me?”.

He glanced over, blinking. “What?”.

You bit your lip. “I just… I didn’t mean to make things weird”.

Fuck. That lip.

He forced himself to focus. Shook his head. “You didn’t”.

You still looked guilty, your fingers twisting in your lap. “I just—sometimes I don’t know when to shut up”.

Jensen huffed a laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. I noticed”.

You made a little sound of protest, smacking his arm lightly. “Hey!”.

He smirked, glancing at you again, this time, really looking. You were so young. Too young to be in his car like this, looking at him like that, trusting him completely. And he needed to get his shit together. Fast.

Jensen exhaled. “Relax, kid. I’m not mad”.

You softened. “Promise?”.

His fingers flexed against the wheel. Fuck, you had no idea. But still, he nodded. “Promise”.

And when you smiled, looking relieved, Jensen knew. He had no business feeling the way he did. Because no matter how much your words had messed him up tonight… You were off-limits.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 2

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick @lmg14

[redbird-tf]

Chamomile tea 

Dean winchester x (hunter ) sister reader

Summary: being alone for so long you’ve gotten used to only relying on yourself, a mindset that Dean starts to chip away at. 

Word count: 740

Notes: being creative is hard

Warnings: none

You sniffled, reaching across the table for a new tissue. You blew hard before discarding it in the bin with the dozen others.“Fever not letting up?” You jumped at Dean's voice, You weren't quite accustomed to having company around yet. The three of you were still navigating this new dynamic, which was proving easier for some than others. Just a few months ago Sam and Dean were the dynamic hunter duo, while you still navigated the world solo. You could still vividly recall the moment when John had announced the secret he had buried for years, the secret forced out because of a hunt.

——————

You remembered the look of shock that overtook everyone’s face and the screaming match that ensued between Sam and John. You could recall standing silently in the corner, feeling Dean gaze upon you from ten feet away. Once the job was done and John disappeared again you expected life to go back to normal, you couldn’t have anticipated the brothers to take you under their wing. “Family looks out for each other” Sam had stated to you, a mentality that you would come to learn.

What you hadn’t seen that night was the quiet devastation Dean had unleashed. He couldn’t pick a fight with John like Sam could, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as angry. His entire life he’d been forced into the role of a guardian for his little brother, and now to find out he had a sister—who had been alone in this life—turned that protective instinct into a fierce storm of emotions. The guilt of failing as brother was sallowing him whole and the rage towards John for keeping the truth from him boiled over. Least to say When they checked out, the motel room bore the scars of his turmoil.

——————-

“I'm fine” you stated blankly in response, your attention turning back to the lore book in your lap. You weren’t purposely being stubborn, to you it was true. You had gotten sick before and you'd get over it, no big deal. Dean didn't respond and carried on with his business in the kitchen. The sound of pouring liquid reached your ears, but it didn’t smell like his usual coffee so you assumed he was having a drink. Hearing what sounded like a spoon hitting the side of a ceramic mug you raised your head in confusion. Unfortunately, his back was turned to you, blocking your view of what he was conjuring up.

When he started to turn around, your eyes darted back to your book only looking up when hearing the soft clink of a mug being placed in front of you. You watched the steam rise, a sweet and sour aroma filling the air. “Is that chamomile tea?” A softer voice chimed in as Sam entered the room. “Not for you,” Dean stated firmly, taking a seat across from you. You stared at the drink “What is it?” You asked raising an eyebrow. “Tea, honey for a sore throat, and some lemon for the headaches” Dean explained leaning back in his chair. “Thats pure witchcraft right there, can fix anything!” Sam exclaimed pointing at the mug. “Drink up sis” sam encouraged, brushing his hand over your shoulder on his way to the door.

“You didn't have to do that,” you said softly to Dean. “I used to make them all the time for Sam, it's no big deal,” Dean reassured you. You fidgetedwith the edge of a page. “I'm not dying Dean.” Your tone came off defensive causing Dean to sit up straight. “You don't have to be dying, for someone to make you a cup of tea kiddo” his words prompted you to lift your head to meet his gaze. “I didn't mean…” your words trailed off, unable to defend your previous statement. “I'm your big brother, it's my job to look out for you.” He said with a stern tone. You could only stare at him in silence trying to comprehend his words. “I know it hasn't always been like that, but it is now. I've been a big brother for a long time and Sam’s still learning. i know you are too—just…” he took a deep breath “Let me do this for you, ok?” You nodded silently, noticing how his softened eyes contrasted with the weight of his words.

Without knowing what to say, you lifted the mug to your lips. The warmth of the citrus tea seeped into your chest, and you felt your tense muscles start to relax much like the protective wall you’ve built beginning to chip away. You gently placed the mug down, catching a glimpse of the small smile on Dean's face. “Thank you, Dean” you responded with a smile of your own. He didn’t respond with words instead, he stood up from the table, patting you on the shoulder as he passed by. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when looking down at the mug in front of you.

———————-

[wvyik]

dad! dean headcanons. d.w. ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

dean winchester x fem! reader

ᰔ summary: dean might slay monsters, but his heart belongs to his little one. from diaper disasters to sleepy snuggles, these headcanons show dean as the softest dad, proving that no matter how tough he is, his love for his baby is even bigger.

⤿ warnings: pure fluff, cuteness overload, you might need tissues, too much dad! dean for your heart to handle, this post is not responsible for any unintentional squealing or melting, i MIGHT make this a series, uncontrollable awws guaranteed.

⤿ notes: so, in case you didn’t know, i’m officially in my “dad! dean makes me weak” era, and i’m not sorry about it. if you’re reading this and you’re like, ‘why does my heart hurt in the best way right now?’ then welcome to the club. we all fam. ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

DEAN WANTS TO GIVE THEM THE CHILDHOOD HE NEVER HAD.. So he overcompensates. Birthday parties. Christmas mornings that look like a Hallmark movie. Camping trips. Home videos. He keeps everything. “I just want them to know they’re loved. Always.”

HE HATES MISSING MILESTONES.. If he’s on a hunt and misses a first word or first step? He’ll make Cas rewind time or beg Sam for a cursed object to see it. He’d call you in tears like “babe, what’d they say? Was it ‘dada’? Please tell me it was ‘dada.’”

HE BUILDS THEM A BUNKER-LEVEL PILLOW FORT.. Rainy day? You better believe that living room becomes a war zone of blankets, snacks, and Flashlight Tag. “No demons in this fort, soldier. Only snuggles.”

HE TEACHES THEM HOW TO RESPECT PEOPLE.. Manners. Loyalty. Standing up for others. “You protect the people you love. Always. No matter what.” Dean raises the kind of kids that other parents admire.

BUT HE SUCKS AT DISCIPLE WHEN THEY CRY.. One look at those watery eyes and he’s DONE. “Aw c’mon, don’t do that to me, sweetheart… I wasn’t even that mad.” Ends up cuddling them on the couch whispering “daddy’s not mad, just worried.”

ALWAYS TUCKS A NOTE IN THEIR LUNCHBOX.. Little post-its with stuff like “Be brave today, champ!” or “Love you more than pie. Almost.” You find the notes years later, kept in a shoebox.

DEAN HAS A WEIRD OBSESSION WITH CAR SEATS NOW.. He installed that thing like it was a bomb. Double-checks it every single time. “My kid’s not going anywhere unless it’s safely strapped into Baby’s throne.”

HAS ZERO CHILL WHEN THEY’RE SICK.. One cough and he’s pacing like a war general. Blankets, soup, forehead kisses. “You okay, bug? You want Daddy to beat up the virus?”

HE KEEPS BABY PICTURES OF THE KIDS IN HIS WALLET.. And he shows them to random strangers at gas stations, “That’s my little kiddo in their first flannel. Got that same ‘handsome’ face.” with that stupid grin on his face.

HE CRIES AT DANCE RECITALS AND LITTLE LEAGUE GAMES.. Tries to hide it behind his sunglasses, but you can see the sniffles. “That’s my kid out there. Did you see that spin?? Better than Michael Jackson!”

HIS RINGTONE IS THEIR LAUGH.. He recorded it one afternoon when they were giggling at his fart jokes. It’s been his ringtone ever since and he refuses to change it. “Best sound in the damn world.”

CARRIES THEIR ART IN EVERYWHERE.. You open the Impala’s glove box and there’s a crayon drawing of Dean with a giant smile labeled “My Hero.” He pretends to be chill about it but he’s totally cried over it in the garage.

HE TEACHES THEM TO SAY ‘NO’ EARLY.. “I don’t care how small you are. If someone makes you uncomfortable? You say ‘no’ loud. Clear. Mean it. And if they don’t back off, tell Daddy. I’ll handle it.”

BABY-PROOFING THE BUNKER TURNS INTO A WHOLE MISSION.. Sam walks in and Dean’s like “I’ve sealed every electrical outlet, covered all corners, and enchanted the nursery against monsters. What have you done today, Uncle Sam?”

HE STARTS CARRYING DIAPERS AND WIPES IN HIS WEAPONS DUFFEL.. Like a damn multitasking king. There’s holy water, salt rounds, and a pastel blue binky. He pulls it out like “don’t judge me, I’m prepared.”

TEACHES THEM HOW TO SHOOT WITH NERF GUNS FIRST.. You come home and find the house COVERED in foam bullets. He’s in full camo, kids are giggling like maniacs, and he’s yelling “Cover me, soldier! We’ve got a diaper bandit on the loose!”

WHEN THEY GET HURT, HE BLAMES HIMSELF.. They fall off a bike? Scrape a knee? Dean acts like the sky is falling. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve caught ‘em.” And you have to literally hold his face and be like “They’re okay, babe. You’re a great dad.”

HE STARTS READING PARENTING BOOKS IN SECRET.. You catch him late at night with What to Expect the First Year under a flashlight like it’s a case file. “Don’t look at me like that, woman. I just wanna be prepared. Babies don’t come with manuals; this is the closest thing.”

HE LETS THEM PAINT HIS NAILS AND DOESN’T WASH IT OFF FOR DAYS.. He’s out on a hunt with chipped sparkly polish and when Sam’s like “what the hell’s on your hands?” Dean’s all, “My daughter’s masterpiece. You got a problem with that?”

DEAN’S SECRETLY TERRIFIED HE’S GONNA MESS THEM UP.. Sometimes he stares at them sleeping and whispers, “You deserve better than I ever had, kid. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” And then he crawls into bed and pulls you close because you’re the only thing that calms that storm.

HE GETS JEALOUS WHEN THEY CLING TO YOU TOO MUCH.. Playfully, but still. “C’mon, they were on your hip all day. Daddy needs cuddles too!” He pouts until the kid crawls into his lap and he’s smug like “that’s right, Daddy’s the favorite now.”

GETS SO MAD WHEN PEOPLE SAY ‘JUST WAIT TILL THEY’RE TEENAGERS’.. Like— no. “I’m gonna love ‘em through every stage. You don’t stop being their damn parent when they get loud and moody. You step up. That’s my kid.”

ALWAYS MAKES TIME FOR ONE-ON-ONE DATES.. He’ll take each kid out individually for a milkshake or a trip to the arcade and call it “dad-and-me time.” He says it’s for them, but it’s really for him, too.

WRITES THEM LETTERS “JUST IN CASE”.. Stored in the bunker. One for every birthday. Every milestone. “If something ever happens to me… I want them to know I was there. I loved ‘em every second.”

WHEN YOU’RE ALL SNUGGLED UP IN BED, HE HOLDS THE BABY AND WHISPERS TO YOU.. “We really did it, huh? We made this little life. And I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Ever.”

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes @ambiguous-avery @mostlymarvelgirl @freeluigihesbae @brutuuallove @impala67rollingthroughtown @multiversefanfics @littlesoulshine @starzify @ladykitana90 @idontwannabehere78 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @pieandflannel @twelveyearsofit @tinas111 @unstable-cucumber @everythingisaspectrum @pennywatsonlafayette @lunaleah ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library.

[rannie-moon]

a compilation video of heran and jungwon moments from en oclock ???

🩰 now playing : en-o'clock being the ultimate hewon instigator!

synopsis : a 13 minute compilation of some of heran and jungwon's most questionable en-o'clock moments. a push and pull fueled by heran's competitive nature, and jungwon's inability to stand on business when it comes to her.

masterlist | wattpad

[ added captions are in brackets ]

indented italics are additional voice overs

hey, everyone! welcome back to my channel—aka—the hub for hewon enthusiasts! if you're here, you already know what you're in for... but for the uninitiated, strap in because once you go down this rabbit hole... there's no escape—

totally kidding, of course! ha ha ha... a quick debrief for the newcomers—heran and jungwon are a walking disaster (but in a cute way). and if there's one thing that fuels their chaos, then it's en-o'clock. every single nerve in heran's body is powered by one thing: the burning, uncontrollable desire to win. she's fucking insane super competitive! and won? the exact opposite. he fully believes in just having a good time and trying your best. and because of this clash, it causes some hilarious tension. she throws a few more snarky comments his way, gets a little hot headed, and screams more than usual. but he loves it... WE KNOW WHAT YOU ARE YANG JUNGWON!!

[ quick cut to heran playfully scolding jungwon, while he just smiles and rolls his eyes ]

so buckle up, kiddos-grab your snacks, take a deep breath, and prepare for some of my favourite moments of them together. the good, the bad, the yelling... you know the drill. PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THEY ARE NOT DATING!! (or that's what they say..... hmmmmmm)

[ yang "heran can say whatever she wants to me" jungwon pt 3243242 ]

the cameras were dually focused on the eight members neatly sat at their own desk on the classroom set. dressed in school uniform and carrying the same weight of dread and tension as if they were in an actual classroom—the only difference being that they found this more entertaining.

and by "this"—they meant listening to heran ramble on about a topic she was overally passionate about.

it started off the same as it usually did—with someone disagreeing with her to an unhealthy extent. and unfortunately, that day, jungwon was the victim.

heran was leaning back in her chair, then pen in her hand spinning through her fingers with a practiced ease that suggested that her guard was down. she was only half-listening, relaxed, not particularly concerned about the debate that was happening around her.

[ she is toooo foineeee ugh ]

that was until she heard him speak. the words fell from jungwon's tongue, casual, careless. "fate has nothing to do with coincidences though—it's purely spiritual. meaning that most relationships are driven by coincidences."

for the first time the entire segment, she actually sat up, shifting in her seat, the slight confusion in her eyes morphing into something closer to disbelief. she ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face as the cogs in her mind turned to formulate her own opinion.

heeseung was arguing his opinion, most members agreed with jungwon which wasn't a surprise. "jungwon's right. I don't think there's ever someone truly meant for you—it's what you make of it," heeseung said and a few more chimes tuned in.

heran's brow furrowed. "wait, wait," she waved her hand in the air, finally drawing the attention of her members. "do you guys know what fate entails?"

the question earned a few responded nods. "It's when the universe has something planned out for you, which logically doesn't make any sense," jake retorted, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

heran's mouth fell agape. "so you'd rather believe in coincidences?"

jungwon eased into his seat, his lips slightly pursed. "I'd rather believe in coincidences than the assumption that the universe had a plan set out for me before I was even born."

"so you think that we're all here because of a few perfectly alighted coincidences?" she asked again. "that despite us having met each other in one way or another before i-land, are here just because?"

jungwon shrugged, completely unfazed. “I mean… yeah.”

heran sat back in her chair, blinking at him as if he had just spoken an entirely different language.

[ why is she staring at him like that?? I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE ]

the other members watched the exchange with mild amusement, some of them nodding along to jungwon’s words, while others—like ni-ki and sunoo—were too entertained by her reaction to pick a side.

[ sunki knew that this mf was about to get COOKED ]

[ it's always them smh ]

“I don’t get why you’re so shocked,” sunghoon added, resting his chin on his hand. “It’s not that deep.”

heran let out an exasperated laugh, running a hand through her hair again as she tried to make sense of it all. “not that deep?” she repeated. “so none of you think that maybe—just maybe—some things are meant to happen?”

“things happen because of choices, not because the universe willed it,” jungwon argued, his voice calm as ever. “If fate existed, wouldn’t that mean everything in our lives is predetermined? that we don’t actually have control?”

heran frowned, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before sitting up properly, her expression serious now.

“that’s not what fate means,” she countered. “fate isn’t some rigid plan—it’s a force. It’s what brings people together, what nudges you toward things you didn’t even know you needed. It’s not about control, it’s about connection.”

jungwon tilted his head slightly, watching her intently.

she was fully engaged now, her usual playfulness momentarily replaced by something deeper—something convicted. her fingers tapped lightly against the desk as she spoke, her eyes flickering with thought.

“I just think… there are too many things in life that feel too perfect to just be coincidences,” she continued. “like—okay, take us, for example. we all auditioned at different times, from different places, and somehow we've all had interactions before properly meeting, we all ended up in i-land. and then, against all odds, we all debuted together?”

“that’s just luck,” heeseung cut in, ever the realist.

heran shook her head. “It could be luck. or it could be fate. maybe we were all meant to be here, to meet, to be in each other’s lives.”

[ fate did me bad by not letting me be her girlfriend... ]

It was a proper 1 v 7—and she wasn't anywhere near to throwing in her towel.

"you're really passionate about this," jay hummed, the smile on his lips not faltering.

heran scoffed. "because I'm right."

[ yes ma'am 🙇🏼‍♀️]

[ let's keep in mind that these idiots are trying to argue with a girl who has lawyers for parents AND was the debate club president throughout high school ]

[ It's like they want to die smh ]

it was then that she noticed the way jungwon had been staring at her—not in the way he usually did when they were teasing each other, but softer, almost fond. like he wasn’t really paying attention to the debate anymore, just her.

a warmth crept up her neck, but she used it to her advantage.

she turned to face him properly, tilting he head to the side. "so what about us?"

[ US??? TF YOU MEAN US?? ]

[ BRO'S TALKING ABOUT THEM!! MY SOULMATES UGHHHHH ]

the reaction was immediate.

jungwon blinked, caught completely off guard. “that’s not fair—wait."

the atmosphere in the room shifted as jungwon pushed his chair back, the scraping sound of the legs against the floor startling everyone. the members laughed, waiting for his next move, and jungwon himself seemed to be weighing his options, clearly thinking that standing might give him a better shot at making his case.

“look, we're different though,” he said with a smile, his voice steady but filled with a strange certainty, as if this one statement would somehow put an end to their debate.

the silence in the room lasted all of two seconds before the reactions came pouring in, like a dam had burst. jay raised an eyebrow, sunghoon’s mouth dropped open in mock disbelief, and jake looked personally offended as if jungwon had just insulted their entire existence.

heran, however, was still leaning back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him. she watched him as if trying to figure out where he was going with this. there was a slight shift in her expression—an amused smirk forming on her lips, but she didn’t speak right away.

[ she knew exactly what she was doing here don't even play rn RAHHHHHHH ]

the others were quick to call him out.

“what do you mean different?!” jake practically exploded, his voice half-laughing, half-serious.

sunoo was already shaking his head, grinning ear-to-ear. “oh, I'm starting to love this more than I thought I would."

but heran? she just sat there, watching him with an amused glint in her eye, before shaking her head. "so you’re saying we’re the universe’s exception?"

[ let's do a tally on the amount of "coincidences" these two have been in, according to the boys' logic ]

[ won and heran met when they were 14 for the first time at a taekwondo tournament ]

[ they ended up tying. which was heran's first time since the age of 5 that she hasn't outright won a match ]

[ I just know she was crashing out so bad on the way home ]

[ for an entire year and a half they had their trophy's, both their names engraved on each ]

[ THEY WERE WALKING PAST THAT TROPHY EVERYDAY FOR A YEAR NOT KNOWING HOW DEEP IT WAS ]

[ they were both bighit trainees before jungwon moved to belift ]

[ then they met at i-land, and ended up in the same group for every unit performance ]

[ THEN THEY JUST HAPPENED TO TIE IN VOTES AT THE END OF THE SHOW?!?! ]

[ yeah, they are more than an exception ]

jungwon hesitated.

that was not what he was trying to say, but the way she phrased it made it sound ridiculous. he ran a hand through his hair, a flustered laugh slipping past his lips. "no, that’s not—okay, wait."

before anyone could say anything else, he moved.

straight toward her.

[ SIR, WHERE ARE YOU GOING???? ]

heran raised an eyebrow as he crossed the room, coming to a stop right in front of her desk. the others went feral.

"NO WAY, IS HE TRYING TO RECOVER?"

"JUNGWON, TURN BACK, YOU ALREADY LOST."

but he ignored them, placing both hands on the edge of her desk and leaning down slightly so they were eye-level. “just hear me out for a second.”

[ I'm sat 🪑]

but then there was the other part of him—the one that had just spent the last few minutes on a losing streak against her—telling him he was in too deep. he had already lost this round, and there was no way he was going to win. Not with that look she was giving him.

so, he tried to speak, but his words faltered. his throat seemed dry. he paused mid-sentence, unsure whether to continue or just let this moment go.

she was waiting for him to speak, to defend his point, but the way she was looking at him made it impossible to concentrate. his breath caught in his throat, and he felt a strange warmth rise up his neck.

this wasn’t how it usually went. mormally, when they bickered, he’d shoot back with a quick retort, but now? now, he could barely remember what they were debating about in the first place.

she tilted her head slightly, as if inviting him to continue. “okay, I’m listening,” she said, her voice soft, almost coaxing.

It was like a switch had flipped in his head. his mind raced, but all his thoughts were tangled in one thing—her. the way she was sitting there, calm and collected, waiting for him to figure it out, was… unsettling. he felt his pulse quicken, his stomach flipping as he watched her, his thoughts scattered in all the wrong ways.

[ can we please get these two a room...? ]

jungwon, unable to hold it together, stared at her for a beat longer before his mouth opened, and his next words were a breathless surrender.

“I’m sorry.” he deadpanned, the embarrassment hitting him immediately. “you were right, I was wrong.”

the words came out almost too easily, but as soon as he said them, the weight in his chest lifted just a little. heran looked up at him, surprised by his sudden admission. the room was still—no one had expected this.

for a split second, it felt like everyone was holding their breath, but then—

“OH MY GOD!” sunghoon exploded from his seat, hands on his cheeks. “did you just—"

heeseung had his hands in his hair, utter shock on his face. "YOU IDIOT!"

"well," jay sighed, throwing his head back in defeat. "that's one way to lose a debate."

[ when a man knows when to stfu>>> ]

“YOU’RE A GONER,” jake declared, pointing at jungwon with the intensity of a courtroom prosecutor.

jungwon barely had time to process his loss before sunoo dramatically flopped onto his desk, clutching his chest like he had just witnessed a tragic love story unfold in real time. “I can’t believe it. we lost because of this idiot.”

meanwhile, ni-ki was cackling, absolutely losing it. “hyung, you folded faster than my laundry—AND I DON’T EVEN DO MY LAUNDRY.”

heran, still seated, finally let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I was just messing with you, won.”

jungwon inhaled sharply—he knew that. he should’ve known that. But the way she was looking at him, the way she had maneuvered this entire debate like she was playing chess while he was stuck in a game of tic-tac-toe—it had felt real.

so, with a dramatic sigh, he lowered himself in front of her desk, bending his knees and resting his head on the surface in total defeat. “I knew that,” he muttered into the wood, but the heat creeping up his neck betrayed him.

heran grinned, amused, before lifting a hand and gently patting his head. “sure you did.”

the moment was short-lived because—

“GET UP, YOU COWARD,” heeseung shouted, throwing a crumpled paper ball at him. “HAVE SOME DIGNITY.”

jungwon didn’t move.

“leave him,” jay said, shaking his head solemnly. “this is his life now.”

[ bro turned into a housecat for her I'M SICK ]

[ heran's inevitable crashout ]

In this en-o'clock episode, the members were handed a silly yet surprisingly difficult challenge: they had to thread a needle while their hands were handcuffed together. the task was as ridiculous as it was frustrating, but the real entertainment came from watching the chaos unfold as each pair struggled to get the needle through the thread.

heran and jungwon were once again paired up, and the moment the handcuffs clicked around their wrists, the other members immediately started to snicker.

[ the en-o'clock directors know what we want for realllll 😩😩😩 ]

[ every day I thank them for the heran and jungwon content that they feed us ]

“are you kidding me? this is how we’re spending our time today?”

jungwon, always calm, gave a small smile, trying to hide his amusement. “It’s not that hard.”

heran shot him a look, already feeling the impending chaos. “yeah? watch me as I try to not stab you with this needle,” she said, waving it around dramatically.

she immediately started fidgeting with the needle, her hand shaking as she tried to get it through the tiny hole. but every time she tried, her movements were limited by their handcuffs, pulling jungwon into an awkward dance.

“hold still, please,” she grumbled, her frustration growing.

“I’m trying,” he replied, his voice a mix of amusement and patience. he kept his movements slow and gentle, trying to avoid bumping into her too much.

[ y’all, I’m dying ]

[ he’s so calm while she’s freaking out ]

her eyes were locked on the needle as she tried again and again to get the thread through the eye. “this is so stupid! we're gonna be here all day!” she exclaimed, exasperated.

jungwon couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, though he quickly tried to calm her down. “It’s okay, rannie. just focus. you're getting too excited."

“FOCUS? I can’t even move properly with these handcuffs!” she threw her hands up, nearly hitting jungwon in the face in the process.

[ the way he dodged her hand I'm screamingggg ]

[ this girl is a safety hazard bro ]

“okay, okay,” he said, trying to make sense of their position. “let’s take a breath. we need to breathe before you stab us both.” he carefully moved her hand back, avoiding the sharp edge of the needle.

heran exhaled loudly, her dramatic energy mixing with his calm demeanour. “okay, but this is a nightmare,” she whined, but she tried to calm herself.

jungwon gently took her hand and guided her fingers back to the needle, moving them both carefully. his calm voice was steady. “don't rush it. we still have a minute left.”

despite her obvious frustration, heran felt the weight of his words. she took a breath, refocusing, and with hisgentle guidance, the needle finally slid through the thread.

the room fell silent for a second as the task was completed, and then—

“there you go,” jungwon said softly, smiling warmly. “good job.”

[ me next! me next! ]

[ her reaction 😏 ]

heran blinked at him, almost in disbelief, as the tension finally released. her face lit up with a smile, pride swelling within her despite the chaotic journey to get there. “oh my god, we actually did it. finally!”

[ look at how gentle he is with her 😩😭 ]

[ our first proper hewon moment since i-land ]

[ may i present to you, the en-o'clock episode that stared it all ]

[ we have jealous jungwon, heran being hot as fAWk, and them being all cutesie ]

the weather was slightly overcast that early afternoon, that had already been filled with laughter and momentary betrayal. the members had just finished setting up their tent on set, and were playing around with some of the games.

heran was particuarly engrossed in the football at her feet, tapping it in the air as she explained the gist of her position to the camera.

[ OH SHE IS TOO HOT WTF THIS IS UNREAL ]

[ WHY IS SHE KICKING THE BALL WITH SO MUCH EASE I'M GONNA FAINT ]

after that bit, one of the staff members announced that as a reward they got a watermelon which they had to fetch themselves down the stream. naturally, they rushed over only to be met with the difficult task of getting it out of the water while staying dry.

heran was minding her own business, standing a little too close to the edge for comfort—and there he was—park sunghoon—getting ready to commit murder on camera for whatever reason.

[ when I tell you that he had it out for her the entire episode ]

[ look at him smirking... psychopath! ]

"what if someone just—"

that was the last thing heran heard before she felt his hands on her back, applying a little more pressure than needed before her ear-piercing scream rung through the air.

[ the editors did her so dirty with this part bruh ]

[ the slowmotion fall has me WHEEZING ]

heran's first instinct was to grab onto the thing closest to her or stability, and that just to happened to be jay. she yelped, jumping onto him with an urgency of someone trying to run away from a tsunami. her arms flung around his neck in panic, her legs around his waist in the most koala-looking way imaginable.

[ HAND PLACEMENT! HAND PLACEMENT! ]

[ I need jay to hold me like that yesterday actually ]

the members were in tears, clutching their stomachs at he reaction—except for jungwon.

[ yeah... uhm... I'm scared ]

his gaze was hard, confused even as he watched the scene unfold. heran in jay's arms. that sure didn't seem right.

[ jungwon rn : that should be me, holding your hand! that should be me, making you laugh! ]

[ F in the chat for leader yang guys ]

the episode continued to unfold with similar moments, a little more tension than usual but of course it melted away as quickly as it happened. they got their watermelon and were lounging around on the grass—but something caught heran's eye.

jungwon was sitting on the grass, staring at his watermelon slice as it if had a personal vendetta against him. he was battling with the seeds, already not in a good mood.

[ aw wonie looks so sadddd ]

[ my SHAYLAAAA ]

then from the other end of the camera's view heran caught a glimpse of the issue and immediately got up. "you look like you're dissecting that thing," she said, her tone light a she crouched down beside him.

he glanced up, surprised by the sudden proximity. "It's got way too many seeds," he mumbled, holding it up as evidence.

heran didn't even hesitate and held out he own slice for him to take. "here, take mine. there's barely any seeds in it."

[ SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ]

jungwon blinked, startled by the gesture. "what about you?"

she shrugged, plopping down beside him on the blanket. "I'll just steal another one when jay isn't looking."

[ absolute menace ]

"thanks," he said quietly, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile.

"no problem, won."

[ the moment that started it all ]

[ it was the end of border : carnival promotions ]

[ the fandom was tweaking ]

[ heran was being dragged into bullying rumours ]

[ and this moment single handedly saved us all from depression ]

[ who's the prettier princess? ]

"hyung, why does it suit you so well?" ni-ki asked in between his laughter, the other members soon joining in as jungwon placed the tiara on his head.

[ HE IS SO CUTE GUYS I'M GONNA SCREAM ]

[ AWW LOOK AT THE BABYYYY ]

his cheeks were momentarily flushed in embarrassment as he turned to the camera. this wasn't the worst punishment that he could have gotten—but it wasn't the best either. the only thing holding him together was heran's reaction.

she covered her face with her hands, fighting back the urge to squeal from beside him. "why do you look so cute?" she asked sweetly. "this is so unfair."

[ says the most gorgeous person ever??? ]

[ she's so self-unaware sometimes istg ]

sunoo clapped his hands together, loving every bit of this punishment. "you're supposed to be posing for the camera."

the other members chimed in agreement, egging him on and making sweet comments about how he was definitely a fairy in his past life. he couldn't bare the attention, dropping his head into his hands with a groan.

"how much longer do I have to do this for?" he asked, only to be met with more requests to pose for the camera properly, but for the life of him he couldn't.

but then heran happened.

she calmed herself down and grabbed his attention, nearly losing he composure when he turned to look at her. "won, you need to smile at the camera or else they're going to keep this on you," she said in between a fit of giggles, straightening the tiara on his head.

jungwon threw his head back with a groan. "It's too much, I can't take myself seriously."

ni-ki snorted from a few tables down, crossing his arms but his smile still there. "If it helps, we never take you seriously."

[ this absolute CLOWN ]

the room was filled with hushed snickers that only made jungwon even more reluctant. but heran was going to make sure that he looked at the camera, this was the perfect opportunity for a new lock screen background.

she nudged him with her foot. "come on, just a small smile for the camera, wonie," she encouraged, flashing him the same sweet smile that he could never say no to.

[ I love it when she calls him that ]

two seconds later he was facing the main camera, putting on his best act while his members cooed over the sight—especially heran, who was on the verge of having heart palpitations.

she tilted her head to get a better look at him, his flustered smile making her pout. "we need to see your dimples, baby, stop being shy."

[ WHEN I TELL YOU THAT I THREW MY PHONE ACROSS THE ROOM WHEN I HEARD HER SAY THIS ]

[ never in my LIFE have I heard best friends call each other baby ]

[ she slipped up here and didn't even careeee ]

[ the scream I SCRUMPT!!!! ]

[ THE ABSOLUTE MESS THIS THIS MOMENT CAUSED ON STAN TWITTER WAS BEAUTIFUL ]

that was jungwon's breaking point—the smile was involuntary—a natural reaction to anything that heran did, and there it was, his dimples etched so beautifully into his cheeks that she reacted to heavily to the point where she knocked her knee on the table.

[ an employed crashout indeed ]

the members were having a field day, losing their composure after something so small yet so entertaining. when it was finally over and jungwon was hit with another wave of embarrassment that had him sinking even further into his seat.

the excitement died down for a bit, the camera now focused on heran trying to calm him down. she rubbed his back soothingly, something that she wasn't aware was making him even more flustered. "you'd make such a pretty princess to be honest," she teased with a warm smile.

[ yes he would. speak your truth queen ]

he sat up straight at her proclamation, fully turning to face her as he took the tiara off his head and gently placed it on hers, brushing a few stray strands of hair out the way. "too bad, because you're my pretty princess."

[ ME WHEN?? ME FUCKING WHEN?? ]

[ I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I'M GONNA THROW UP ]

[ seperation anxiety but make it hewon ]

they didn't know who decided that it was a great idea to lock each of the members in a room for a few hours, but none of them were complaining—except for jungwon.

the other seven were more than content with their own company, a few snacks and something to keep them entertained. In heran's case it was her nintendo switch—which the fandom believed was more important to her than most things in her life.

she was sprawled out on the floor, the sun's rays seeping through the open window and onto her face with a familiar warmth. everything was going well, but she could have sworn that she heard a scream from time-to-time.

"ah! I drove into a turtle shell!" she exclaimed, her eyes trained onto the game of mario kart that she was immersed in.

[ my girlfriend is a gamer don't even ]

It was peaceful, rewarding, but strangely empty. It took her nearly 30 minutes before she cracked. "I wonder how the other members are doing?" she turned to look at one of the cameras in the corner of the room.

[ well wouldn't you like to know... ]

then the clip switched over to jungwon who was undoubtably relapsing. like heran, he was sprawled on the floor, only he had a lot more whining, kicking, and rolling on the floor. yang jungwon was losing his mind.

"how long has it been? two hours?" he asked, a slight pout on his lips.

[ 30 minutes. It has been 30 minutes ]

after a few more moments of throwing a very controlled tantrum, he sat up straight, and stared directly at the camera. "I feel so alone."

[ me too, buddy. me too ]

his attention flickered from the door that was locked, to the window until the cogs in his brain started working. and as if on cue a knock came from the other side of the door, and it was gently pushed open.

a staff member popped their head in to check up on him, just as he did with the other members. "are you okay in here?" he asked and jungwon sighed.

[ comical to say the least ]

"I'm going insane. Is heran okay?" he couldn't help himself.

[ heehheheheheeehhe ]

the staff member chuckled and gave him a reassuring nod. "she said that she's having the time of her life."

jungwon's heart dropped to his stomach, his brows furrowing in genuine shock. "why?" the question slipped. "doesn't she miss me?"

[ oh lawddddd ]

[ get ready guys ]

"I'm sure she does," the staff member answered and then took a step out of the room, ready to lock it for the next hour, but jungwon was quick.

his excuse was that one of the cameras in the room made a funny sound, and that it should definitely be checked out now instead of later. "It could be a serious issue, I'm not sure."

[ a mastermind at work ]

[ he invented prison break, I don't make the rules ]

then, just as the staff member took his first few steps into the corner of the room jungwon made his grand escape out the door. in his defence, it was a foolish mistake to leave it open with him in the room of all people.

his adrenaline filled screams echoed through the house, his figure running past a few very confused staff members until they caught on and eventually started chasing him. it was a sight to behold, and the members locked up all shared the same thought.

[ the staff members really said "..... OH SHIT!" ]

"that's definitely jungwon."—heeseung

"wow, he lasted longer than I expected, props to him."— sunghoon

"this is why I stay away from him."—sunoo

"I wonder how long the staff members are going to chase him for?"— ni-ki

"Is that jungwon screaming? how did he get out?"—jake

"I'm surprised he didn't jump out the window."—jay

the only person who didn't hear him was heran, because she was too distracted by her own screaming to notice his. that was until, she heard a bang on the window behind her, followed by a pair of hands gripping onto the window sill.

"what the hell?" she asked and walked over, peering our to see jungwon standing on the lawn about 3 meters down, clearly out of breath.

"open the window more!" he screamed. "hurry, they're chasing me!"

[ you cannot make this shit up ]

heran didn't have a clue as to what was going on but obliged, muttering something under her breath as she took a step back, watching as he took one big leap and successfully pulled himself up.

less than a minute later he was rolling through the open window, a few staff members gathering outside and ultimately giving up with a few chuckles and tired pants. "that's definetaly gonna make for good content time. we should thank him."

[ get that bag I guess ]

she was dumbfounded to say the least—her lips parted as she stared at the boy laying on the floor, attempting to catch his breath. "can I get an explanation, please?"

after a few more deep breaths, he sat up straight and stared at her with narrowed eyes. "why didn't you miss me?"

[ DEAD!! ]

[ get yourself a man who YEARNSSSS ]

heran stared at him a moment longer. "huh?" she ran her fingers through he hair, trying to make sense of the situation. "you jumped through my window to ask me that?"

he let out a dramatic sigh, sitting up. “yeah, because you had mario kart and zero loyalty.”

“excuse me?”

“I suffered in that room,” jungwon continued, clutching his chest like he had survived a life-or-death situation. “and meanwhile, you were just chilling, living your best life, not even thinking about me.”

she scoffed. “for the record, I did think about you.”

jungwon narrowed his eyes. “when?”

she paused. “...like, at some point.”

he let out an exaggerated tch before sprawling out dramatically on the floor again. “wow. betrayed. I can’t believe this.”

heran sighed before dropping back onto the floor, settling into her previous spot. jungwon watched her expectantly, waiting—waiting—for some kind of grand gesture, some token of appreciation for his bravery. but when she simply picked up her switch again and continued her game like nothing had happened, he was scandalised.

"that's it?"

[ bro expected her to propose or something ]

heran didn’t even glance up from her screen. "jungwon, I'm locked in the room too. I have nothing to give you right now."

he groaned, letting himself fall back onto the floor with a dramatic thud. "I'm too tired to even argue right now. I've never run that fast in my life."

"yeah, I could tell. I thought you were about to pass out at my window."

jungwon waved her off weakly, too exhausted to keep up his usual antics. she sighed, setting her switch aside for a moment. she looked down at him, then at the clock ticking away on the wall. another hour of being stuck in here. she might as well make things a little easier for the poor guy.

without saying a word, she patted her lap. “we’re here for another hour, come on.”

[ WOOF WOOF BARK BARK ]

[ WHY'D SHE PAT HER LAP LIKE THAT?!? ]

It took less than a second for jungwon to shift, rolling over until his head was resting on her lap. he let out a deep, satisfied sigh as he closed his eyes. "this is so much better. I should've come here way earlier."

[ bro is never beating those cat allegations ]

heran let out a soft laugh, about to reach for her switch again when suddenly—

her hand was stolen.

she blinked, looking down to see him guiding her fingers onto his head.

"how am I supposed to play mario kart with one hand?"

jungwon cracked one eye open, giving her the most shamelessly innocent look imaginable. "skill issue."

[ SIR SHE WILL KICK YOU OUT STFU ]

she gawked at him. "excuse me?"

he closed his eyes again, letting out an overly dramatic sigh. "I risked my life to be here with you. the least you can do is comfort me in my time of need."

[ dramatic ahh ]

heran rolled her eyes but ultimately relented, fingers slipping into his soft strands as she lazily combed through them. "you're an idiot, you know that?"

jungwon only hummed, already halfway to falling asleep.

do you feel unlovable yet? because I know I do! hahahaha. I'm tweaking. please leave me alone while I wallow in my sorrows, because lee heran will NEVER run her fingers through my hair or say, "we need to see your dimples, baby" TO ME!!

[sosa2imagines]

I have an idea for Dad Bucky. How about him and his mini me dressed alike and go visit Sam and Steve and other avengers if you want and Bucky walks in and they are like where’s Jr or whatever his name is and in walks Jr dressed identical to Bucky he can be young what 5 and below and addresses them the same as Bucky and they take a double take like OMG there’s two of them but it’s just jr loves and looks up to his dad so much he mimics him cause he thinks he’s the coolest person ever. Or something similar whatever you like. Just an idea.

Hey @iwudbutnah I had lots of fun writing this, I hope you enjoy. Thank you for this ask!!! ☺️❤️

Warning- Pure fluff.

You watch as Bucky carefully buttons up Samuel’s little shirt, his hands moving with such precision that it almost feels like you’re seeing double.

Samuel, who you both lovingly call ‘Jr’, is dressed just like Bucky, right down to the leather jacket that’s far too big for him. The little guy beams up at his father, clearly thrilled to look exactly like him.

Bucky finally looks up, a small, almost proud, smile gracing his lips as he looks over at you for a second before looking back at Samuel. He finishes buttoning the jacket and gently straightens it, running his fingers across the fabric as he admires his work, “What do you think?” Bucky asks, a small fond smile still on his face.

“You look just like daddy, Sammy.” you say, smiling at the adorable sight.

Jr. stands tall, a proud little soldier in his oversized clothes. “I wanna be just like daddy!” he says with such determination that your heart melts.

Bucky's eyes crinkle at the corners, the proud smile still on his face. Samuel had definitely inherited Bucky's sense of determination, that's for sure. Bucky gently ruffles the boy's hair, a small, quiet chuckle leaving him. “That's my boy.” He says softly, the fatherly pride evident in his voice in those three words.

You hand Bucky the snack bags, the ones you always pack for their weekend trips to the Avengers' compound. “Make sure you both behave,” you warn with a teasing smile.

Bucky, giving you a wink, holds up his own snack bag. “We’ll be good, don’t worry.”

With that, the two of them leave, off to spend their usual weekend at the compound. Every week, without fail, Bucky takes Jr. to the compound, and each time, you feel a strange mix of pride and joy watching them together, enjoying with everyone.

Father and son, so perfectly in sync, sharing moments you know will be special for years to come.

When Bucky and Jr. arrive at the compound, it’s impossible not to do a double take. The little guy is dressed exactly like Bucky, down to the cold, stoic look they both share. Steve, who’s standing nearby, laughs when he sees them.

“So, where’s Jr.?” Steve jokes, raising an eyebrow in mock confusion.

Jr. immediately stands right next to Bucky, mirroring his father’s serious expression, and the resemblance is uncanny.

Sam, who overhears, gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, there’s two of them now! What have we done?” he says, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

Bucky chuckles, pulling Samuel in close. “Guess you’re stuck with us, Wilson.”

Jr. beams, clearly thrilled by all the attention. “I’m just like Daddy!”

The day goes by quickly, filled with laughter and fun as the Avengers welcome Jr. with open arms. First, it’s time for a little sparring session with Uncle Steve. Of course, it’s all in good fun, and Steve, ever the easy going guy, is more than happy to let his godson have a go.

Jr. stands with his fists clenched, trying to imitate Bucky’s moves, and though his punches don’t quite land, there’s a fierce determination in his eyes. “I’m gonna get you, Uncle Steve!” Jr. yells, lunging forward.

Steve dodges effortlessly, laughing. “I don’t know if you’re ready for the big leagues yet, kiddo!” He says, stepping aside as Jr. spins around, pretending to land a blow.

Bucky stands nearby, proud but also amused. “You’re doing great, Jr. Keep it up!”

Later, Jr. moves on to a different kind of training, aim practice with Aunt Natty. She’s always so focused, so methodical, and she’s been teaching Jr. how to properly hold and aim a bow and arrow.

“Remember, kiddo...” Natasha says, “focus on the target and don’t rush it.”

Jr. nods seriously, determined to get it just right. He pulls the bow back with precision and releases. The arrow flies through the air, landing just shy of the bullseye.

“Almost there…” Natasha encourages with a grin. “You’ll get it next time.”

But it’s not all training and sparring. Jr. has a knack for trouble, especially when it comes to teasing Sam.

Jr. hiding behind Bucky as Sam pretends to look for him. Sam dramatically plays the role of the annoyed uncle, though one can see the affection in his eyes.

“You can’t hide forever, Jr.” Sam says, as Jr. peeks out with a mischievous grin, clearly plotting his next move.

“I’m gonna get you, Uncle Sam!!!” Jr. calls, darting away with an infectious laugh.

As the day winds down, Tony was in the corner of the compound, talking with a few others. Jr was playing with Morgan, their laughter filling the air. Bucky smiles, knowing how happy Jr. is to have friends like her. But then Tony stops mid-sentence and looks over at the two of them.

He does a double-take. “Wait a minute,” Tony says, eyes narrowing. “Did Jr, did he just gave Morgan the same look Barnes gives Y/N?”

Bucky glanced over and sure enough, Jr is wearing the exact same grin that Bucky, himself always gives you, one that’s equal parts playful and full of love.

Tony laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “I think we might have a mini-Bucky on our hands.”

As the day ends, Bucky is sitting on one of the couch, Jr curled up in his father’s arms, already half-asleep. Bucky gently brushes a lock of hair from Jr.’s face, looking down at his son with so much love it nearly takes your breath away.

Steve walks over, a knowing smile on his face. He sits beside Bucky, crossing his arms as he watches the father and son duo. “You know…” Steve says, his voice soft but filled with affection, “fatherhood suits you.”

Bucky looks up at Steve, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think so, Steve. I’ve never felt more at home than I do right now.”

Bucky’s heart swells with happiness, knowing that this is the life he always dreamed of, despite his past. A family, love, and all the little moments in between.

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[hedwig221b]

Omg ok I was having more thoughts about those baby trapping asks from before. Please excuse the unhingedness that is about to follow, and I guess TW for birth control tampering:

I think we're all in agreement that Derek being obsessed with breeding Stiles is hot as hell. And yes maybe Stiles is very much into it in the moment, but isn't actually ready for the kiddo yet (I'm thinking he's like a freshman in college, so he wants to wait a but before fully settling down to start a family). And now normally Derek loves Stiles being so independent, but about this? Yeah no Derek just wants a baby with his mate asap because he's so possessive and jealous of others flirting with Stiles all the time (like in your fic Untouchable!).

If this is a/b/o, omega!Stiles is def on some type of birth control. But maybe Derek, in a moment of pure want and possessiveness after some other alpha flirts with Stiles for the millionth time, switches out Stiles' birth control for something else. And then later that night he breeds Stiles like the world is ending the next day lmao.

In my head Stiles totally knows what Derek is doing, and while he should be angry, all he feels is horny lol. So he lets Derek continue to change out his birth control until he starts to throw up in the morning.

IM

I'm actually like so obsessed with this whole idea of horny Derek going dark mode 😳 like, he's in a rut, and he has completely lost his mind, and he would do anything to have a baby with Stiles, and he goes completely off the rails, and and and-

Listen LISTEN IMAGINE alpha Derek becomes the new leader of the pack since Talia stepped down, and he's older (😳🤭) and Stiles is a young omega barely into uni. And they just click and they are obsessed with one another, but the Hales think Stiles is only after Derek's money. And then Derek goes dark mode and gets Stiles pregnant, and Stiles freaks out bc now Derek is gonna think he's a gold digger as well and wants to baby trap him. He doesn't know what to do, and as time goes by Derek gets more and more obsessed and wolfish (cause he knows he got his mate pregnant so his instincts go nuts). When they're having sex Derek keeps saying this freaky kinky stuff about breeding and how good Stiles would look pregnant, and Stiles starts to think that maybe... maybe Derek really wouldn't mind... But then Talia confronts him first about his true intentions, and Stiles is a mess, and he runs away (bc I love when Stiles runs away...) Derek finds him and Stiles finally confesses and they have sex and everything is beautiful and nothing hurts

@salty-fryingpan Salty.... Salty, come here, you have to see this...

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?” 

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.