#thank u sparkle anon my beloved

[cupidjyu]

HIIII this is my first time requesting something so if I make a mistake pls keep that in mind 😞 can u make a fluff where the reader is a artist and younghoon catches them drawing ??

draw... us?

younghoon x reader (request, thank you for requesting my beloved anon!!!!!!!)

genre: drawing, flirting, teasing, overall playfulness, a random suggestive joke at the end LMAO (sorry that's just my humor 💀) note: yay! i was planning to post this much later but this request was literally so much fun to write, i couldn't help it~ anyway, i hope you like this anon!! word count: 0.6k

you sighed, watching helplessly as the pencil rolled off the table. you reached down to pick it up, and went back to your notebook, as you settled back down to sit on the floor. you were supposed to be taking notes about your school course but instead, you couldn’t help but draw mindlessly instead.

you looked up and smiled at the sight of your boyfriend, busy in the kitchen, preparing a snack. you turned back to the paper and began doodling. things from simple flowers to complicated cats doing odd things began to bloom across the margins.

just as you were distracted, about to start another drawing of perhaps, a chicken (or something), you heard a deep voice from behind you.

“are you drawing me?”

you visibly jumped, turning around to where younghoon was standing there, a plate of cut fruit in his hand. he smiled softly, placing it on the table as he sat down on the floor beside you. though, he struggled a bit because of how long his legs were.

“does it look like i’m drawing you?” you deadpanned, eyeing him.

he only laughed fondly at your snarky response.

he shrugged, tilting his head attractively.

“no, but can i watch?” he pointed at your notebook.

your breath hitched, slightly caught off guard. but you nodded slowly as you gently replied, “of course.”

you went back to drawing on the paper, sometimes pausing to think of an idea or to vigorously erase a mistake.

meanwhile, younghoon placed his cheek on the palm of his hand, resting his elbow on the table. he turned to you, smiling as he watched your focused face. your cheeks were slightly puffed out in concentration and your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you continued to doodle and doodle.

his eyes trailed over your side profile, from your eyelashes, to the slope of your nose, and to your lips. he felt his heart speed up at the simple sight of you, his eyes sparkling.

you suddenly could feel his eyes on you.

“shouldn’t you be watching the paper?” you turned to him, confused. “not me.”

“why?” he shifted so that he was even closer to you. you gulped. “can’t i admire this piece of art right in front of me?”

you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing, rendered speechless. you hurriedly turned away from him, trying to hide your face. 

he chuckled, “are you shy?” he pinched your cheek softly.

“shut up,” you mumbled, your face hot.

“alright, alright,” he replied, laughing.

then, without a thought, you began to draw two birds, one blue and one yellow. and the thing is, their beaks were connected.

he peered at the new drawing, widening his eyes.

“are they kissi-”

“this is us,” you blurted out. you slapped your hand over your mouth. 

it was silent, younghoon not saying a word. you started to feel nervous until he finally spoke.

“no it’s not?”

you paused, your heart-stopping.

“oh,” you muttered, a sad tone to your voice. that wasn’t what you had expected.

he smiled, unable to keep it in anymore.

“...at least not yet.”

and you felt a warm hand on your waist. you squeaked as you felt him bring you closer to him and against his lips. butterflies erupted in your stomach as you dropped the pencil to cup his cheeks. you could feel him smile brightly against your lips, causing you to pull away with a giggle.

he pointed at the drawing, “now, it’s us.”

“mhm,” you said, unable to come up with an answer.

“so anything you draw comes true, right?

you laughed, finding his question oddly cute.

“yes,” you replied. “ i guess so.”

“can you draw something for me?” he eyed you mischievously, his eyebrow slightly quirked up. almost immediately you could tell something was up.

“what exactly are you imagining, hoonie?” you stared up at him suspiciously.

and then he leaned in and whispered it into your ear.

slowly, you felt your cheeks grow hot all over again. you pushed him away, even throwing the paper at him.

“i am not drawing that!”

“aw but-”

"no!"

[stunie]

Hello my beloved. If you are still doing matchups I’d absolutely love one. I’m off anon bc I am not shy and idc if you’re biased heheh ❤️

My day was not great tbh but hopefully tomorrow will be better. But my birthday is next Friday so I’m excited for that. Also sad. I’m going to be 27, time moves by so fast as you get older. I have nothing planned but maybe a nice dinner with my family. I am in sooooo many fandoms but they’re all listed in my pinned. I’ll take a matchup for any of those if that’s okay. I recently watched Bucchigiri and I’ve been obsessed with Zabu lately. He’s soooo handsome and a little pathetic and very loyal. If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend. Thank you for letting me yap ❤️ you are so loved

VIOLET !!! HIHI 🫂 it’s almost your birthday !!! i’m wishing you a lovely dinner & a happy day, happy weather, etc ^ ^ and ooo thank u for the rec :O looking into it !! I LOVE YOU MORE okok i came up with ..

KANJI NAKAMURA. he’s such a gentleman. a bodyguard. a great guy. i think he’s so dependable… walks you wherever you need to go, checks on you— although he’s pretty observant… he can tell whenever you’re down but he’d rather have you come to him yk? respects your space ^ ^ ALSO FLOWERS. very pretty bouquets… he knows what flowers you like !!! he’s asked shizuka & tsubaki for help at the beginning (he’s a little nervous … laughs a bit and rubs his neck .. middle pic for ref lol) AH. ITS JUST CUTE. staring at you two with sparkles like this ✨_✨

[astrobei]

✨✅ (for the ask game)

YELLLLLLS OMG y’all are not letting me rest with the sparkle emojis 😭😭😭 ok Fine but only for u anon <3

✨: Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

UMMMM i think my fics have interesting plots or central themes and (i think) they’re rly fun to read ! hopefully ! but idk i do kind of enjoy how randomly specific some of my fics are (like the diner one ? idk why i don’t see more diner aus for rly any pairings but it was sooo fun to write) Anyways !

✅: What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

hmm ok let’s see there was another question regarding like themes and motifs specifically so i’m taking this more to mean like little details ? and most of these are on purpose but 1. lucas sinclair is Ripped and universally beloved by Everyone and 2. will byers #1 curly fry enjoyer and strawberry ice cream enthusiast and ummmm 3. el is just a little . weird . like she has her quirks and gets really really excited over holidays and is honestly just all-around precious bc i love her to bits and she is Mine ! and 4. this is probably an accident but i did realize recently that i reference star wars a lot in my fics bc i have only a very loose grasp on 80s pop culture and also i do Love star wars so . IDK WHENEVER I NEED SOMETHING STAR WARS IS MY GO TO (also mike totally has star wars bedding and will gives him shit about it Endlessly ok)

thank u anon these were lovely !! even . the sparkle .

[echoesofadream]

Ugh last anon is everything I despise about fandom culture (they exhibit Twitter behavior) anyway I love hearing your thoughts and criticism about stuff op 👏🏻 also YES HEARTBEAT ! such an underrated song ! Its a beautiful song <3 Whats your favorite subunit in the uh "game album??" Personally it goes All Night > Brand New Day > Dream glow (I think they sing too high and with too much power for me to appreciate 😔)

ikr. they were projecting that toxicccc culture on me but i was never apart of it in the first place… i left twitter for a reason. And omg thank u lovely lovely anon💓💓💓💓✨✨✨💫💫💫💫

IK heartbeat is my fav, like they made that for a GAME??!! Also since i am a certified Toxic Delulu Shipper Anti Hater TM, i love taekook harmonizing in the beginning💞 i want their subunit so bad they gotta stop teasing

I can tell you have taste by that order of songs. I dont really have taste myself. I just go by mood. So i think im gonna have to say a brand new day, as a fellow swede i must support queen zara larsson. plus vhope my beloved vhope.

I like dream glow personally but i understand why you’d think that. To me it sounds like sparkles and glitter✨✨💖💖 and speaking of jimins voice, his and also seokjins go sooooo well for that song! Like seriously. Its like seokjins silver voice and jungkooks golden voice and jimins diamond voice go like🌟🌟🌟💎💎💎💎💎❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥and charli x did a good job fitting into that aswell.

I think all day comes last to me, partly because i am not in love with juice wrlds music and voice. I need to give it a relisten though to speak more truley about my opinions on it. but i dont really love it as i can remember rn, at least not like the chorus. I wanna listen to namgis raps in it cause i cant remember lol

[lasquadrasfuckhouse]

I see your la squadra collaring their s/o, and I offer you... getting them a collar of their choosing and using it to tug them down to ur height and wreck them

-✨ anon

SPARKLE ANON ALWAYS COMING IN CLUTCH WITH THE IDEAS

!!not safe fw!!

risotto is VERY into it. he likes to get as good as he gives and he'll be absolutely in love with you if you tug him around (occasionally just a bit tight on his throat) and lovingly wreck him

prosciutto will raise his eyebrows. he's interested but he'll sort of challenge you like, you think you can get him in a collar and make him obey? show him that yes you very much can, and he'll be good for you

pesci probably wouldn't be into it. he'd choose a really cute one but it'd mostly be for style. he'd go red if u very gently pulled on it to give him a sweet kiss tho

formaggio REALLY digs it. somehow he's still the one teasing YOU, at least at first, like, you must love doing this to him huh, he can tell how excited u are. it's pretty easy to shut him up with a harsh tug and doing something to get him moaning (or make you moan)

illuso will be taunting you the whole time. you may have him in a collar, but who's really the one in charge here? he's an absolute brat, put him in his place and he'll be pliant for you

melone LOVES it of course, the style the experience the feeling, everything. he loves being dragged around and malleable for you

ghiaccio may generally be more used to doing the tugging, but he finds he likes being on the receiving end too. it's not as hard as u may think to get him submissive, especially if u really come through on the wrecking

sorbet and gelato are SO into it. collars are handy with keeping those two in order and they definitely like being tugged around, just make sure you keep track of them and really put em in their place cause they like to test their dom. wreck them indeed!!! they'll thank u for it

[ranhaitanisgf]

hellooo could u possibly do smth for uno with an s/o who talks ab their interests a lot and is scared they annoy him?

uno with an s/o who talks about their interests: headcanons

[𖤐] helloo anon, and thank you so much for requesting!! nanbaka reqs are like, my favorite omg, so thank you!! hope you enjoy! <333

❧ masterlist

--

✗ uno is always up to listen to whatever anybody has to say, and the same goes for his beloved s/o. he always loves to listen to you talk; he loves the way your voice sounds, he loves the way your eyes seem to have a certain sparkle whenever you’re talking about your interests, and most of all, he loves you.

✗ which is why when you suddenly stop talking about your passions, he’s a bit taken aback. why were you suddenly so quiet about it? he had asked you about it, and your answer was rather...suspicious, in his opinion. it was clear that something had happened, but for whatever reason, you wouldn’t talk about it.

✗ while uno is rather perceptive, he’s not able to read minds, so it’s definitely going to take a while for him to be able to figure out what’s wrong with you. he’ll be paying a lot closer attention to the way you act around him, because maybe he did something wrong? it’s not an impossible conclusion, so he’s not going to rule it out.

✗ it finally clicks for him when the two of you are chilling in the game room one day, and you start to talk about a new anime series you had been getting into, and how amazing the characters were and which one was your favorite and it’s just such a complex story and it really-

✗ and then, you suddenly stopped. uno raised an eyebrow at you, clearly curious as to why you stopped, but you just gave a strained smile at him, telling him, ‘nevermind, i forgot what else i was gonna say.’.

“you’re not bothering me.”

“huh?”

✗ his words came out of seemingly nowhere, but he had already figured you out from that little slip up that you had made. so that’s what it was.

“y’know, you can talk about whatever with me, i don’t care. you know that, right?”

“...okay.”

“now, why don’t you keep going about that new anime you were watching? i was getting pretty interested!”

“oh! okay, well…”

✗ uno is really feeling like ‘mission accomplished’ when he sees you back to your normal self, and he’ll just smile and nod as you’re talking to him; honestly, he’s just really glad that he was able to figure out what was wrong, and he’s even more glad that he was able to fix it because god, he loves you too much to not be hearing you ramble on about your passions, it makes him happy.

--

[waywardimpalawriter]

hi! i really love your writing, and was really hoping you could do another dean winchester x f! plus size reader. possibly were they are best friends and she is pining for someone else. so before she can make her move on someone else he stops her and confess his love for her. idk maybe some angst/fluff/smut?? you don’t have to if u don’t want to, it’s totally up to you. like no pressure at all! but seriously, i do really love all your writing and i wanted to say thank you for everything u write and do!! <3 once again no pressure at all with this ask, but overall thank you!!<3

Just one good reason

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader

SPN mixed Bingo Square: Hurt/Comfort Square

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,

Setting: mid season 11

Rating: E (explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: angst, smut, yearning, grumpy and sweet Dean (yes they need a warning),

Word count: 12,805 (Truly Was suppose to be this long. I blame Dean for this.)

Summary: He’s given a million reasons, damaged goods, blood on his hands, nightmares, scared in so many ways. But most of all that he’s not good enough. Just when you’re ready to walk out that door he gives you one good reason to stay.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this request, I love writing for Dean so very much and to add a plus size gal in as well that just makes my day. I do hope you’ll enjoy this story. The song “Million Reasons” both version’s by Lady Gaga and Briana Buckmaster are inspiration for this story.

Tag list: Is open for all character’s and series I write for.

@spnmixedbingo

Dean Winchester list: @akshi8278

Just one good reason list: @chickensarentcheap

@impala1967dwinchester, @lilacprincessofrecovery, @superavengerpotterstar @jbbarnesgirl @sofreddie  @slightlyobsessedwithissues  

Ancient hinges creak wearily, firm hand pushing to hold open the heavy door letting you and Sam pass by. Fatigued sigh leaves slightly chapped lips, “It’s good to be home.” Taking the stairs down two at a time, tossing duffle bags towards the war table.

“Going soft on us old man?” Teasing quip tugging a smile from your lips as you drop down into the nearest chair. “Getting use to having that soft bed under your ass now huh?”

Scoffing, whiskey flecked green eyes settling on your plush frame, “Woman you forget we’re the same age first off.” Playfully stocking towards you, hands placed on the back of your chair to cage you in. “Second damn right that bed is magical, memory form baby, it remembers me,” poking your side, giggle leaving your lips body squirming in the seat.

“Stop,” pleading tone entering your voice, trying to evaded his questing hands trailing along your curvy sides. “Please,” puppy eyes begging for mercy, his hands aren’t willing to give. Though you can’t bring yourself to care seeing the weight, even for a moment, disappear from his countenance. Or the fact your sides aren’t the ticklish spot on your body, moving in the seat purely for show.

“Say your sorry for calling me old,” brow lifting watching you squirm under his hands. Wishing and not for the first time, he could have your soft body slotted against his harder frame. Knowing how well you fit just in a different way, one that hasn’t been enough for a long time.

Giggles burst from your lips, hands flat against the hard plains of his chest tugging on the dark blue t-shirt to distract from his plans. Pushing him away which had as much of an effect as a toy bulldozer did against a real brick wall. “Okay, okay I’m sorry, promise I’m sorry,” gasping for breath giving a hard tap to his shoulder.

“Now who’s giving up too soon?” Hands pause as his eyes catch yours for a long moment. Smiling face beaming up at him, heart beating triple time and not from assaulting you with his hands. Unable to resist the urge to touch your soft skin. Callused fingers come up to barely graze just under your left eye carefully capturing the eyelash on the tip of his forefinger from your cheek, “Make a wish.”

Leaning forward to place your lips close to the offered digit, eyes closed to blow a cold stream, eyelash fluttering away unseen. Keeping your libs lowered for a bit longer torn between what you truly desire and what’s within your grasp. Whiskey roughened voice breaking through your thoughts, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“What you wish for?” Swallowing hard, beloved eyes flutter open to ensnare his in there depths. Catching something simmering just below but disappears quicker than a jack rabbit running from a coyote.

Clearing yours throat, “Can’t tell ya Deano won’t come true if I do.” Giving a smile, pressing him backwards to raise and grab your duffle bag. Cell phone signaling an incoming text message making you pull the the black case wrapped piece of tech out of your front jeans pocket. Bright smile pulling your lips higher seeing just who’s messaged you. “Catch y’all later.”

“Someone good?” Sam speaks for the first time since coming home. Watching the scene between his brother and best friend. Wanting to strangle the both of you for not seeing what’s right in front of you.

Head snapping up from buried in your phone to stare wide eyed at Sam, “Yes, no I mean it’s nothing but could be something.”

“Will again?” Peripheral catching the dark scowl pass over Dean’s features before disappearing behind a mask of indifference.

Humming sweetly, sparkle lighting your eyes that go back to your phone for a moment. “He’s asking if we can meet up tomorrow for lunch, trying to choose where to eat.”

“What about,” clearing his throat to unclog the emotions choking off the air to breath. “That little diner in town? It’s your favorite and serves the best pie aside yours of course.”

Trapping and tugging your bottom lip between nibbling teeth, head shaking in the negative. “Nope he’s not fond of greasy foods.”

‘Plus that’s our spot,’ unbridled thought slides into your mind and you want to look over at Dean to remind him. But push those thoughts aside with a wave, heading towards the bedrooms carefully making sure not to bump into a wall while responding.

Green eyes follow till you round the corner, heart catching in his throat cursing himself for mentioning your diner. Knowing better yet wanting confirmation without asking if the spot is still special.

“You’re an idiot Dean,” shaggy brown head shaking as he to snaps up his duffle bag to head towards his room. “The foundation is already there start building before it cracks.”

“Thanks Riddler, just cause I’m Batman doesn’t mean you have to be so fucking vague.” Left with his thoughts and the growing feeling he’s loosing you to another man. Dean leaves his stuff lay where it landed glancing over the chair you vacated not five minutes ago then heading towards the kitchen. In need of something harder than beer but settling for the dark brew being the only alcohol in the bunker.

Opening the fridge door, grabbing a brew his fingers brush against the clear plastic container holding a single slice of pecan pie. Eyes unseeing, drifting back into memories when the Mark of Cain still burned into his skin.

2015

Charlie’s dead, beaten, murdered and left in a pool of her own blood. Every time his eyes close she’s there, expressionless sea green eyes staring blankly into his own. Never hearing her snarky retorts, sassy ways or those hugs she gave. Staring into cold brown sludge, hands gripping the mug a little too tightly. Not sure why he chose to come here of all places. When he could’ve started out on his hunt for the Styne’s. Deep down though he knows the reason right as the little bell signals someone’s entered the small family owned diner. Knowing exactly who and trying to ready himself for your present.

Never ready for how your soft fingers brush along his temple, settling on his shoulder for a moment while you slide into the worn pleather covered booth. Trailing those gentle fingers down his black and grey plaid covered arm. Tugging one hand from around the ceramic cup to intertwine your fingers. Head coming to rest on his shoulder, no words just comfort in a time when he needs it most.

“You shouldn’t be here,” dark with hints of gravel and kissed with pain in the tone. Whiskey flicked green obits focus, for the first time on something besides the cup in his hands, landing on the top of your head.

Shrugging, “Where else should I be Dean?” Looking up at him sorrowful eyes meeting right when your other palm comes up to brush moisture from his cheek. Unnoticed tears sliding down cool cheeks, “You’re my best friend there’s no place I’d rather be then right here helping you.”

“You could get killed,” the very through twists his heart till almost bursting. Brings bile to rise in the back of his throat, slithering through his system to settle unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach. It’s one thing to loose Charlie a heavy casualty. But you, Dean isn’t sure he’d come back from the dark path he’d follow for vengeance.

Soft sad smile turns your lips barely upward, “Not gonna happen I have my knight in shining Impala to keep me safe.”

“I couldn’t keep Charlie safe how can I…”

Shaking your head, finger placed over his kissable lips, “You’ve given me a million reasons already Dean Winchester and I don’t believe a single one of them.” Resting your foreheads together a moment, tenderness skating across your veins for the man beside you, “You might not believe it but your a good man.”

Pie filled plate slides across scared formica table top, metal fork clattering against the ceramic pushed in front. “More coffee,” sweet feminine voice floats from beside you.

Nodding, “Please, sugar and cream too.” Giving her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes feeling Dean stir beside you.

“Black like my soul you know that sweetheart,” slightly chapped lips brush your cheek. A simple thank you for this act of kindness he feels undeserving of. If he hadn’t already been head over heels in love with you this sweet gesture would’ve sealed the deal.

Breathless gasp parts your lips as you turn finding Dean closer almost invading your space. Leather, motor oil and Irish Spring tickle your nose, eyes locking with those agony drenched obits, making another gasp exist your lungs. Heartache rocketing through your body, colliding with anger directed at the Styne’s.

“Eat your pie Winchester we’ll talk about that soul of yours later after dealing with the Styne’s.”

Heart freezing at the mention of the murdering family, “No,” rougher than intended, Dean grabs your chin twisting your face towards his. Rage hot and potent flaring through those beautiful greens. “No you will stay with Sam I’ll deal with them myself…”

“Dean you can’t be serious…” grabbing his wrist, pleading in your eyes for him to listen. Loosing Charlie splintered your heart, counting her as the sister you’ve never had. Her blood demanding revenge for the grievous act. But loosing Dean would kill you, knowing you never would come back from that agony.

“I am, deadly so. You try and sneak along I’ll toss that sexy ass outta Baby faster than you can pray to Castiel.”

Snorting, pulling your chin from his grasp, “You couldn’t lift me Winchester and you can’t stop me…” but the look he gives you does. Any farther flow of words halt in there bid to tumble out of your mouth.

“No I can’t,” callused palms cup your cheeks keeping you in place. Searching your eyes and making sure you understood, “I don’t want you to come with me Y/N. If there’s anytime to listen its now. I’ve lost one sister I didn’t want.” Bitting those words out to keep from speaking the others which threaten to pour from his being. “I can’t loose you,” resting your foreheads together again.

Nodding, trying to keep yourself from rubbing your cheek into his palm or worse press your lips against his. Lying to yourself isn’t something you normally do and you wouldn’t start now with the realization you were in love with your best friend and worried your going to loose him to the all consuming darkness.

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show

You're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

Downing the last of his long neck, drawing patterns over the hardwood table underneath with the condensation from the bottle. Eyes trained on that single slice of pie you’d bought him weeks ago.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you D,” mirth filled voice floats towards him before you reach his side in body.

Hand coming into view grabbing for the container to toss it out. But Dean’s quicker, “If you value your life, you’ll unhand my pie,” thick fingers circle your wrist pulling your plush body down beside him. “It’s not nice to steal a man’s pie woman,” keeping his tone light, playful and away from the looming fate he knows will visit upon his person once you figure out Will is the man you truly want. Deserving of your light, and laughter, the sweetness, of your beauty that Dean only hopes the other man will appreciate.

Gasping in mock outrage, “Who me?” Hand to heart trying to keep the laughter from your tone. “I would never deprive you of pie Deano. But I would that slice since I think it’s become a science experiment.”

Narrowing his eyes towards the offending sweet dessert, “It is not.” Poking twice before pulling the pie forward for a closer inspection. Musical laughter meeting his ears, smothering the smirk threatening to bloom over his lips. “Okay so maybe your right,” turning his pouting face towards you.

“Course I am,” giving him a wink then standing to toss the ruined sweets out. Pausing by the panty, you peek in unaware Dean’s watching you from his seat.

Teasing sway to your generous hips has his eyes tracking every movement. Bitting the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at how temping you look. Thick thighs encased in blue denim jeans feet bare from wearing those steal toed Dr. Martins during hunts. Body stretching upwards, soft cotton baby blue tank top riding up to bare a silver of delicate skin to his eyes. Your fingers barely snag the sugar container’s edge, pulling it down to clasp against your ample chest.

Chastising himself for the erotic thoughts flipping through his mind on a single film reel. “What exactly are you doing sweetheart?” Carefully keeping his lower half away from your line of sight. Lest you find out the problem currently tenting his jeans, teeth gritting to stop himself from acting on all those thoughts.

“Never you mind Dean Winchester,” tossing over your shoulder, checking for vanilla extract, light syrup, and butter from the fridge. Last stop the freezer mentally trying to remember if you there's a pie shell left or would need to make one. Hoping for at least a single, since checking the flour stock and coming up almost empty. “Start a list for me please and put flour on it,” setting the three ingredients in your hands down. Turning back to open the metal door to peer into the freeze, swaying slighting to a song running through your head. A triumphant “Yes,” exists your lips, a little dance of excitement upon finding the last shell.

Damn near swallowing his tongue so entranced by your movements gulping different words back down to keep from making a total fool of himself. As he utters, “Not till I know exactly what your making over there Betty Crocker.”

“Resorting to blackmail now?” Brow arched, unconsciously licking your lips slowly. Unaware of Dean watching the path it takes across your pump bottom lip, tucking it between indenting teeth.

For distraction purposes, Dean pulls his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. Bringing up the list app a suggestion to simplify things you gave him months back. Forcing himself to focus on the small screen in his hands instead of the woman currently dancing around the kitchen. Pulling bowls, pots and pans out, one chance glance has an inaudible groan vibrating through his chest at the sight of your plush ass. Bent over shifting through sheet pans knowing which you look for as arousal flares to life so potent Dean turns quickly hiding his reacting. Planting his face in the palms of his hands, elbows bent to catch the weight. Fingers digging into eye sockets to use the pain and banish the thoughts from reappearing.

Frowning at his actions you come over after putting the pan on the counter. Fingers running through his hair, scraping the scalp with short nails. Pleased smile at the groan you pull from his lips as he rubs his head into your palm like a little puppy. “Something wrong Dean?” Worry dancing through the cadence of your voice other hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Fine,” head popping up, forcing your fingers to slide out of his hair. Taking a chance to glance up into your worried eyes. Underserving of your soft touch searing his skin. An itch to run from our presence skitters across his veins. “I’m fine sweetheart just tired.”

Searching his face, those whiskey flecked green eyes so unlike the blue-greens of Will’s, catching something hiding in those deep depths he’s trying to hide. Never fooled by words, always inspecting his actions and those little tells partially concealed though you know them all too well. “You’re covering something up Winchester I’ll get it out of you one way or another,” patting his cheek and stepping away.

‘I don’t want you to go on that date,’ on the tip of his tongue poised to leave his lips he keeps smashed together burying those feelings to not ruin this chance you have at an apple pie life. The very thought tears his heart, rendering another hole in the punched out organ. Though it’s his own fault for giving you a million reasons to keep that boundary line in place. Tip toeing almost across a few times, but always toeing the line keeping himself in check. Head snapping around when something hard hits the back of his head, scowl in place though it’s more playful than menacing. “Did you just…” glancing towards the floor to find a lone pecan on the ground behind him. Head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed on your face, which is the total opposite of his holding a sweetly innocent look concealing the trouble he knows you’ll cause. “Seriously a pecan? That could’ve done damage Babe Ruth.”

Eyes rolling, snort issuing from your up turned lips, “I don’t know what you speak of Dean I’m just here making a pie minding my own business. Can’t help it if a pecan has it out for you.”

“Possessed it must be,” voice pitched in a poor imitation of Master Yoda, getting a boo hiss from your general direction. “Though something tells me a certain someone threw the poor helpless nut.”

Shrugging, face neutral a picture of indifference with hands on your wide hips ingredients spread out over the counter. “Stop calling yourself names Dean it’s not nice.” Bottom lip trapped for a second to keep from giggling at the way he’s looking towards you.

Enjoying this moment of normalcy you’ve managed to capture in these dark and dangerous times. Thoughts skittering towards Will, if he’s able to put up with the hunters life style? Former Marine, Will knows so little of what truly goes bump in the night making you worry he wouldn’t feel at ease. It’s the reason you’ve hesitated each time he’s asked you out. Not wanting to drag someone else into a life of blood and death. Persistence and patience paid off when you finally agreed on a dinner date for tomorrow night. One your actually looking forward to.

But then you glance towards Dean, seeing the smile grace those soft looking lips, shinning in his whiskey flecked green orbs for the first time in months and you hesitate. Would you want to leave this life for a man who wouldn’t understand you not fully anyway? Or stay and remain the best friend till a hunt takes one of you out? Could you truly leave your home with the Winchesters, with Dean?

His voice breaks through the your thoughts, ruthful chuckle echoing through the room, “Haha sweetheart stop trying to be John Candy it ain’t workin for ya,” bending to scoop up the tossed nut a memory filters through his mind. Opening a wound he thought long since closed over soaked in whiskey and women who’s names he’s forgotten. Shaking the thought away to ask, “You gonna chunk a nut at your boyfriend tomorrow night too? Or is that reserved for me?”

Not sure why he’s even asking or teasing you about it or the fact there’s a bite to the tone. He shouldn’t care about a simple date, yet the thought twists his gut smile slipping from his lips as he looks down at the pecan in hand. Unwillingly letting those images fill and play before his eyes.

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills

If you could find a dry way, I'd forever be still

But you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

December 2011

Run down two room shack a nicer way of putting it truly, you think while pulling up outside next to Baby’s sleek black side. Hands gripping the steer wheel till knuckles hurt and you can focus again through the haze of tears spilling down your cold cheeks. Still trying to grasp the fact Bobby Singer legendary hunter, go to lore man, and surrogate father, dead by a bullet from Dick Roman’s gun. Itching for vengeance you try to quell for another time when you can let all the anger out. For right now you knew he needed you more than any strategy planning or revenge thought.

Remembering Sam’s voice shaking, laced with pain, peppered with rage but above all coated in sadness you could hear over the phone lines. Never hesitating to drop the case — for now — breaking speed limit in the need to reunite with your boys. You’d do anything for family even those who weren’t by blood. Learning a long time ago that family doesn’t end with the DNA flowing through your veins.

Shaking those thoughts from your mind and existing the car only to lean back in and grab the bags from the passenger side. Standing to full height to peer over the top locking eyes with those anger clouded greens. “No I didn’t bring you anything Winchester so don’t bother asking.” Trying to lighten the situation with poorly used humor.

Words fail to leave thinned lips as you pass by, hand holding the creaking barely held together door open for you. Following behind his voice scratchy from no use, “Sam call you?”

“Of course silly why wouldn’t he?” Placing the bags on what could pass for a pile of rubble instead of an island countertop. Turning to face him cataloging each feature, the stone set of his jaw, shoulders tight with tension, eyes those beautiful normally vibrate whiskey flecked greens mute with anguish he tries to hide.

Shrugging, shoulders dropping forward with no will to keep them up, “He shouldn’t have your needed else where Y/N.”

“Bullshit Winchester,” moving with purpose to stand in his personal space. “Bobby was just as much a father to me as to you. There’s no other place I’d rather be than here, for a different reason yes but I’m not leaving so suck it up buttercup.”

Catching the flash of anger tinging the deep greens whether directed at you or himself you’re not sure. “We already salted and burned his body, there’s no reason for you to stay.” Turning away from your softening eyes knowing your going to try and reason with him. Make him see he’s not responsible for what happened.

“I know,” two simple words make him pause and turn back. “I didn’t come to say goodbye to Bobby, I came for you.” Taking one step closer arms wrapping around his slumped shoulders bringing him into the shelter of your embrace. Steady hands running the length of his stiff back, imparting your warm, trying to give comfort knowing he’s unaccepting of such sympathies.

Brows furrowing, frown tipping his lips downward, fists clinching at his sides, Dean tries to keep himself from giving into the solace he so easily could find in your embrace. Warmth sinking into his skin through the layers of clothing he wears, tingling his skin, quickening his pulse.“Why?”

“You need me, your not listening to Sam or Castiel talking about going off to track Roman down yourself,” spitting the Leviathan’s name out like chewed to long gum. Head resting against his strong chest feeling the slightly erratic beat of his heart against your ear.

Back stiffening, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do Y/N I can make that decision on my own.” Low growl rattling through his chest as he pulls from your arms and steps from the warmth evaporating from his body. “You should leave.”

“And get yourself killed?” Hands slamming to your wide hips glaring daggers at your best friend. “What happened wasn’t your fault Dean. Any one of us could’ve taken that bullet, Bobby knew the risks of the mission, accepted them and died…” swallowing the tears threatening to slip from your eyes. “A hero,” ignoring his last words, reaching out to try and take his hand only to have him pull away like you’ve burned him.

“Don’t, don’t try to reason this with me I know better,” turning his back to head for the wall covered in papers trying to figure out just what Dick Roman’s up too.

Shaking your head knowing he’s hurting but not wanting to voice those feelings, to make him appear weak. With a sigh leaving your frowning lips you move silently beside him looking over the wall of weird trying to piece together how everything connects. Brushing your hand against his, pinkie trailing to catch what you think is his forefinger. Wrapping the little finger tightly around his you lean over, “I’m right here when you’re ready Dean, I’m not leaving nor letting go.”

“You should,” not bothering to turn and face you. Memories of Lisa and Ben filter through his thoughts along with Bobby, his father and what he can remember of his mother. “I’m poison and get everyone around me killed.” He doesn’t want to add you to the growing list. Rather wanting you to leave and find a different path for your life.

Tugging on his finger to wrap the middle and forefinger with your ring and pinkie fingers, “Then Sam and I are the antidote to your poison.” Giving a soft sad smile to his side profile, wrapping him up into your arms. Resting your head on his shoulder, voice a gentle whisper of breath upon his cheek and neck,“Those reasons keep tallying up Winchester we’ll hit a million before long.”

Reminding you both of a long ago discussion between the two of you in Bobby’s junk yard while still teenagers. Before angels and demons, vampires thought long dead and ancient Leviathan brought back from the pit of purgatory. When you made the packed to never fall for each other and always remain best friends. To never let go no matter how dire the situation, you’d have each other’s back.

Evaporating memories of long ago, you speak softly still resting your head on his shoulder. “You work on this mosaic of papers you have plastered over the walls. I have a pie to bake,” not giving it much thought you quickly press a kiss to his stubbled cheek then turn to head back towards the passable kitchen area.

Tingles dance over his skin for longer than he wishes, wanting to suppress those feelings bubbling up to try and consume him. Thinking he could bury them under the mounting pain and self hated. Yet, the warmth of your arms, soft press of your lips, your words register and sink into his brain Dean turns to watch you work unable stop a few of those feelings from dancing around his heart. Single thought shocking him in its stark contradiction to his current state of mind, Dean Winchester self proclaimed ladies man has fallen in love with his best friend. A sucker punch to the gut making him gasp and reel that silent declaration in. Stuffing it under the right full emotions of anger and pain. Letting them tap dance through his veins instead, something much safer for the both of them. Something he could understand and deal with.

I bow down to pray

I try to make the worst seem better

Lord, show me the way

To cut through all his worn out leather

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But, baby, I just need one good one to stay

Head stuck in a cycle, I look off and I stare

It's like that I've stopped breathing, but completely aware

'Cause you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

“He’s not my boyfriend yet Dean,” eyes rolling as you turn to melt the butter in a small sauce pan. Though there is a part of you wishing he could one day fill the role unless a single good reason can change your mind comes your way.

“But you want him too?” Words muttered through presses together teeth. Hating the fact he’s letting something so trivial effect him in such a way. You’ve had other boyfriends, one night stands he’s had to sit through yet this one feels different. As if he could truly loose you this time and those thoughts scare the shit outta him the most. Because yes you’re his best friend for longer than he can remember but above that you’re the woman who gets him, argues with him, sets his ass straight when he’s being stupid and above all or so he hopes, loves him warts and all.

Hands pause at his question looking into the melting golden liquid bubbling silently remembering to flick the tiny knob and turn the heat off. While your head screams to say yes but it’s a little small voice beating quickly beneath your ribcage making you pause. Clearing your throat to gather what thoughts you could from their scattered places. You’ve always spoke with honesty to Dean, unless circumstances dictated other wise, and you weren’t about to change now. Through you wouldn’t turn to face him when you did wanting to keep from seeing his eyes. Finding the reason for his questions in those green depths you’ve fallen for though never spoken the feelings. “Yes, he could…” swallowing to coat your dry throat to spit out the words rotting your stomach. “I could have a chance at happiness with Will, Dean. Why do you even ask?”

“I don’t want to loose you,” ‘Because I love you,’ on the tip of his tongue to tell you, give voice and life to his true feelings. Wanting you to stay and forget about those million other reasons he’s let slip between the cracks in your relationship.

Frozen in place, hands gripping the countertop beside the stove. “You wouldn’t loose me Dean I’d still go on hunts with you, I’d stick around,” lies tasting bitter on your tongue, heart beating triple time wondering if he’ll pick up on the dishonesty your speaking. Always feeling he’d never see you as anything other than his best friend. Never the type of woman to draw his attention, too soft and plush in places most men wouldn’t want and you didn’t pine for a man who’s given you a million reasons to walk away. So you shoved those feelings, the love you held back trying to make it work with other men. To find the one who’d surpass Dean destroying your feelings for the green eyed hunter, giving you the one reason to stay and belong. So why now did he have to put doubts in your mind? Why ask these questions when in years past he’d brush other men away as nothing more than a passing fancy?

Silently Dean stands slowly making his way towards you, taking in the ridged stance of your plush form. Hands itch to wrap around your thick waist and haul you against his chest. Pausing right beside you, brushing his fingers against yours too hook what he thinks is your forefinger with his pinkie. “You and I both know things wouldn’t stay the same between us sweetheart. He’d find a way to take you away from me,” praying you won’t pull away Dean turns to stare at your profile. Taking in the beauty he’s catalogued thousands of times, the curve of your lips when you smile, slope of your nose, eyes bright with laughter or spiting fire when angry usually at him. Softness of your cheeks under his palms the times he’s actually got to cup and caress the skin.

“We’ll remain best friends Dean that’ll never change,” gathering the courage to turn and look into his eyes. Catching the sadness coating those beloved greens making your heart ache. Tongue slipping out to tug back your bottom lip between your teeth indented them to keep from asking the question your heart demands.

Of its own accord Dean’s free hand comes up to brush over your cheek, cupping the soft skin, fingers spread from apple to jaw wanting so badly to draw you in and kiss those tempting lips. “I want you happy Y/N and if it’s possible out of this life, been wanting that for you since Bobby,” sliding his hand to your chin to pinch the end with his thumb and forefinger tipping your face up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ll miss you sweetheart.”

Eyes lock with stormy greens after he pulls back, soft gasp parting your lips at the simple touch, words sounding like a goodbye instead of their usual see ya later. Grappling for words to say, questions to ask, trying to figure out what’s going on, and why now. But he’s gone before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and your turning to rush after, seeing his back disappear around the corner.

Feet finally responding to command as you quickly follow stopping at the doorway, “Give me one good reason.” Praying he’ll listen and stop, hoping it’s not too late. “Stop giving me all these reasons to leave.”

Back ridged but his mind a flurry of thoughts and answers, more questions than he could shake a stick at. Only one reason comes to mind, “Good reason to what?”

Traveling the short distance to take his hand intertwining your fingers with his, needing him to turn around and look at you. Needing the connection while stating, “Give me a good reason to stay Dean to not go tomorrow night.”

“I can’t,” partly wanting to flinch from your touch, to tug his hand free, and partly wanting to sink into your familiar embrace. Soak in the peace he always finds in your arms, to bath in your warmth and possibly bask in your love. But Dean wouldn’t be selfish he’d let you go even if it meant killing his own heart and soul.

The urge to punch him grows strong but your refrain from using violence, “Why not? Too scared? Or you just don’t care?”

The warmth of your hand disappears from searing into his palm, tingling those long nimble fingers, his eyes close knowing you’re walking away because of that millionth reason. Till the first brush of soft fingers tender in there touch upon his cheek. He gives in to the urge and rubs his slightly stubbled cheek into your palm. “If that’s you Sam, I’m gonna kick your ass dude,” ignoring your questions in favor of basking in your touch instead. Hearing the soft giggle from your lips brings a smile to his own. Eyes finally opening too stare into yours, almost doing a doubt take at what he sees in those beloved depths. “I don’t deserve you Y/N.”

“Stop giving me a million reasons Dean and give me the one that’ll make me stay,” imploring him with your touch, fingers tracing over his cheeks and jaw. Tracing his plush bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, “I just need one good reason.”

He’d find the situation funny if it’s anyone else standing in front asking the same question. Even Sam would get a chuckle from his lips, but you, his breath freezes, heart thumping wildly in equal measures of terror and excitement. The very thoughts running unrestrained in his mind scare the shit out of him, but only one truly feels right. Snaking an arm around your thick waist pulling you against his strong chest, fitting like missing puzzle pieces. His free hand coming up to cup your cheek, “I love you.”

Tears slip from their ducts barely held back till those three simple words spill from his mouth jump starting your heart and sending your emotions swirling. Warm palms cradle your wet cheeks, gun callused thumbs brush hot tears away, you spy the worry and fear your non response sparks. “Do you mean it?” Wanting clarification before handing your heart over to the very man who’s held it for so long.

Knowing what your asking Dean stops waiting and lowers his mouth to yours. That first touch of lips electricity shoots through you veins. Body responding quicker with arms going around his neck to pull him firmly against you not a wisp of space between your bodies. Fingers tangling in the short hairs at the back of his head while you slot your lips against his. Demanding and deep, a tangled dance of tongues. Clashing of teeth, a melding mouths and finding the right angles to draw those delicious moans from each of you. Till air becomes necessary and you break apart panting, “That answer your question sweetheart?”

“No,” smirking when his eyes narrow, “I wanna hear it again.”

No hesitation in speaking those three words, “I love you.” Groaning when your lips smash back to his. Stealing breath from his lungs and a moan from his chest, Dean walks you backward till your pressed against the cool tile wall. Lower pelvis holding your soft body in place so his hands can dance over your cotton covered plush form. Palm’s flat against your thick waist, slowly dragging them around and down to cup your generous ass. Squeezing firmly and making you gasp.

Using the opening as a way to work his tongue back into your mouth, delving in for another taste of your sweetness. Low groan existing when rearranging his mouth to fit differently and snag a gulp of air. Stubble abrading your chin in the most spectacular of ways. Pooling heat low in your belly and making your mind wander in other more salacious directions. Brought back from teetering on the deliciously desirable edge by a sharp bite, his teeth nabbing your bottom lip to tug, letting go with a wet pop. Breath fanning out over your heated cheeks. Eyes once closed now open and locked with yours a pleading undertone to the desire darkened greens.

Knowing what he wants to hear and unable to wait along, “I love you too Dean.” Heart bursting with unrestrained joy flooding your system and making you love drunk.

“Thank fucking God,” groaning, resting your foreheads together still trying to reign in the wild thumping of his heart. Your admission only serves to make the largest muscle spasm quicker. All his pent up emotions, desires and needs flowing to the surface, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from rushing into something too fast. Remembering it’s still fresh and new between the two of you a different path to the relationship already established in friendship.

Giggling softly, you cup both his cheeks, thumbs brushing along his skin, three days worth of stubble abrading your palms. “So,” teasing smirk pulling at your lips, “I better call Will huh?”

“For?” Trying to keep the bitter growl from escaping and giving away his feelings on the sore subject. Tugging your soft body back in place from your wiggles to side free, not ready to let you go just yet.

Sliding one hand down his chest to rest where you know his anti-possession tattoo resides. Tracing the edges with the tip of your finger over the black t-shirt he’s wearing, locking eyes with his, “Seems I’m a taken woman. Wouldn’t want to lead the poor guy on now would I?” Watching how those whiskey flecked greens darken, pushing his lower body deeper into your plush form. Barely heard as you try not to give away the whimper of need his body produces in your own, with his pressed so tightly. Cool concrete keeping you body temp from over heating for the moment.

“No,” clearing his throat leaning in to draw his nose over your jawline. Touring towards your ear, catching the lobe between his front teeth to tug. Low desire filled growl leaving his lips, followed by, “Tomorrow is another day sweetheart and right now you’ve got better things to do.”

Heading tipping over granting access to the parts of your neck he wants, trying to keep the shiver from rolling over your body. Heat flooding your veins sparking a need you’ve never felt with any of the other men you’d previously had relations with. “What,” licking your parched lips, “what better things Dean?” Praying it’s the same idea rolling around your head for the longest time.

Pausing in his mapping of your neck and shoulder with his lips, Dean raises his head to spear you with a heated look. “Me for starters sweetheart, that is of course…” uneasiness has him trailing off the first time in his life. The bitter taste of uncertainty coating his thoughts for a fraction of a second before your lips land back on his.

Teasingly soft presses, little ghost touches of your tongue, playfully dotting his cheeks, chin and forehead with your lips before brushing close to his ear. “Hey Dean,” smiling against his skin, tenderly pressing your lips just south of his ear. Nibbling the found patch of sensitive skin behind committing the spot to memory for later. Breath puffing out quicker feeling him shiver, knowing what the next words would invoke in Dean and his love for the movie. “You big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever,” sultry tone added to the cadence.

His eyes close for a moment, heart swelling as you recite the words to one of his favorite movies. Marveling at the fact you’ve remembered the lines perfectly and Dean falls deeper in love with you if that’s possible.

The gentle caresses of your lips against his skin setting fire to his nerve endings, room in his jeans becoming a hot commodity as his shaft thickens and throbs. Finding the distraction almost too much while trying to recall the next line. Teasing giggles reach his ears that he replies to with a deep chuckle. Words coming back to him, “Show me the way home, honey.”

Reaching down to tug one hand from your ass, chuckling with a shake of your head when it doesn’t budge but squeezes the generous globe. Notching himself tighter into your body, smirk appearing as your eyes widen, gasp issuing from parted lips. Bitting the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling before the words can escape. “Is that a pickle in your pocket or you just happy to see me?”

“Oh sweetheart it’s a great big dill I can show ya,” flashing a smirk, both of you trying hard not to laugh.

“Preferably,” deep voice tinged with slight offense but liberally coated in amusement. “In your own room so the both of you aren’t bare ass naked in the hallway bumping like bunnies,” having rounded the corner towards the kitchen and catching the intimate embrace. “A vision I don’t want branded into my skull thank you very much,” Sam paused arms crossed in annoyance. Golden dotted green eyes dancing with mirth, catching the playfully scandalous expression cross your features. Glancing towards Dean who buries his face in your neck getting a deep chuckle from his brother.

Try as you might to keep from busting out laughing they just rolled out of your mouth as your eyes lock with Sam’s. Acting stoic but the smile tugging at his lips and the teasing flash through his eyes speak a different story. Only thing holding you up is Dean’s body still pressed heavily against your. The man in question glancing up first to look at you then over his shoulder towards Sam. “Don’t even start Sammy,” grumbling good-naturedly giving him a middle finger salute and the opening you need to slip from between his hard body and the wall. Teasing growl rumbling through his chest at the loss of your warmth. Dean reaches out to snag your arm but you manage to dance out of his reach, giggles echoing off the walls trailing behind your disappearing form.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Dean but Cas owes me fifty bucks,” patent Sam Winchester smirk sliding over his lips. Brow raised at his scoff, “Can’t believe I had a betting pot going?”

Watching you run off happy grin tipping his mouth upward, he looks back at Sam grin still in place. “Just can’t believe it’s with Cas. Rowena maybe, Jody, Claire, Alex and Donna fuck yes but Cas,” incredulous look stealing over his features for a few moments.

“Who say’s the bet’s not bigger than you think,” broad shoulders shrugging same smirk in place, Sam enters the kitchen on that note leaving Dean to stare wide eyed after his baby brother. “Matter of time, always just a matter of time,” laughter tinged voice exists the kitchen, unseen shake of his head at the mess left behind.

Stock still for a fraction of a second till soft giggles echo quietly down the hall, grin turning into full blown smile. Need rushing back through his veins in remembrance of your position just a few short moments ago. Low curse existing his mouth, Dean turns racing off to find which room you’re hiding in.

Nerves tingled through your body, worry interrupting thoughts/memories of short minutes ago. Hard press of his body against yours, warm moist breath fanning out over your skin sending tingles of a different kind to skitter across your veins. But now standing in Dean’s room trying to figure out where to lay or stand that would invoke images of sensuality. You look down at your bare feet toes wiggling against cold concrete. Up wards to thick jeans clad thighs, a baby blue tank top covering your torso, self consciousness went out the window decades ago. After the first serious injuries you suffered at the hands of a vengeful spirit had you damn near stripped naked in front of Dean. Confidence in face of adversity knowing he’s the only one for miles around to patch you up.

Now though is different, same confidence but wishing for sexier clothing something to entice and tease. Small snort issues from the depths of your body knowing damn well you had nothing of the sort in your possession. Flannels, tank tops, t-shirts and jeans hunter’s required staples along with the functional under garments you groan at remembering are mismatched at the present.

“Beautiful even in those rumpled clothing,” deep voice breaking through thoughts and making a squeak sound as you quickly turn to face the lazily leaning against the door jam hunter. Arms crossed over muscular chest, biceps straining the black t-shirt’s sleeves, “I meant what I said before Sammy interrupted us.”

Tugging your bottom lip back under indented top teeth turning to face him fully, “Which part?” Barely keeping the mirth from bubbling over, “That I should show you the way home or you have a big dill?” Easy going banter calming your nerves even the part about feeling ill-prepared clothing wise.

Tender infused whiskey fleck green eyes turn molten with each sweep of your body. “I love you,” words escape as eyes stay locked, Dean pushing away from the doorway. Booted foot catching the hardwood door and slamming it shut behind him. Stocking towards you as a lion would his prey, licking parched lips wanting to devour you. Hands fisting at his side though to keep from reaching out and doing just that incase it’s something your not ready for.

His breath froze upon seeing you walking around his room, something akin to relief floods his veins along with a sense of rightness. Sure you’ve come in hundreds of times to wake him from a nightmare or mornings, to barrow music and to talk. Yet, this time feels different giving your relationship changed moments ago. Catching the indecision clearly written in those beloved eyes that don’t focus on one place too long. For a moment Dean wishes he could read your thoughts but then having hunted and lived together for decades he picked up the situation and cues without having to know your thoughts.

Pleased hum breaks Dean from the wondering trail his thoughts took him on to spy the sweet smile gracing your lips. Hands positioned on your hips one cocked to the side as you stand there waiting expectedly. Restraining himself, Dean opens his palms to bring them up and cup your cheeks dragging you against him. Lips meeting in the tenderest of kisses that he keeps in place while speaking, “You want this, want me?”

Recognizing his vulnerability and what he’s asking with those simple words, arms wrap around his back fisting the shirt tightly to press the two of you together. Love saturated eyes burn into those greens you could drown in, “That’s my question Winchester stop stealing my lines.” Flattening one palm to slide up and into his hair. Pressing another kiss to his soft lips you’ve only imaged kissing till now. The reality so much better than any fantasy you ever came up with.

“Calling me a thief now sweetheart?” Using jokes to cover the fact he’s searching for the right words. Flustered and frustration slither through his veins in a combination Dean’s not accustom, words stammering of unintelligible nature tumble from his mouth. The feel of your blunt nails sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

Nodding, craning your neck back a few inches but keeping your eyes locked, “You stole my lines and my heart Dean so yes that would make you a thief.” Hand sliding over his back now and settling into the back pocket of his jeans, “I also meant what I said back there.” Catching the cocked brow you elaborate, “Take me to bed Dean I’m tired of waiting, I want to know how it feels to have you inside me.”

Soft groan issues from parted lips. Wanting to act on your words so damn badly his body vibrates with barely contained desire. Forehead coming to rest against yours, strong hands sliding too loosely wrap around and caress your neck. “You know I’m not great at relationships. I could seriously fuck things up.”

“I know but then so could I,” any doubts or insecurities evaporating into the ether with every look.

Callused fingers brush over your bare shoulders sending sensual shivers cascading down your body. Rubbing your thighs together for added friction with the heated look Dean’s fixing you with. Boosting your confidence to step back his hands drop to the side as you own pinch at the hem of your tank top. Slowly pulling it from your body, letting it drop with a barely heard whisper.

“Fucking hell sweetheart,” resolve snapping, reaching for your hips and tugging you back against him harder than intended. Lips sealing quickly to swallow the gasp existed parted lips Dean takes advantage of and slips his tongue inside the warm cavern of your mouth.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, it’s all teeth and tongues, fighting desperately for dominance. Pulling groans from the depths of Dean’s soul as he pulls whimpers and moans from your own. Till air becomes needed though it doesn’t stop your mouth from trailing a hot path across his stubbled jaw. Nibbling towards that little patch behind his ear to flick the tip of your tongue against. Smirking at the shutter rolling through his body, fingers dancing a rhythm over his shirt covered torso. Hem reached you tug twice to which he nods reaching behind him grasping and pulling the garment off to join yours.

Hands, palms flat immediately going to ghost over his rippling tummy. Muscle covered soften causing all moisture to pool south, clit throbbing almost painfully. Sure you’ve seen him bare chested before this time it’s different. For pleasure instead of patching him up. Drawing desired groans rather than pain filled. “I know Sam would abject but I so wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around shirtless.”

Full belly chuckle leaves Dean’s lips, “Sweetheart don’t talk about other men right now especially not my brother.” Possessive hands landing on your naked plush waist, fingers spanning the distance and gripping the flesh in his palm. Dreams having nothing on the real woman in his palms.

“Just stating facts sir nothing more,” trailing your fingers over the slightly hair roughen skin. Brushing pebbled nipples from the cool air and your proximity. Reserving a gasp when you lean forward to lap with the tip of our tongue and nip at the peaked point. Glancing to lock eyes as you switch and give the same attention to its twin giving the same attention getting a hiss from your actions. Dragging you lips upward to trace his tattoo with kisses.

Molten green eyes drinking in the sight of your lips on his skin, shooting desire straight to his cock. Throbbing need demanding attention no matter how good your soft lips feel against his body. “Baby girl,” groaning at the nip you place, eyes close to compose himself. Flying open as air cool brushes his skin inside of the shared heat of both your bodies. Mesmerized by the way you reach back to unclasp your bra, pushing your lushes breasts out teasing his vision, salivating for a taste of your skin.

He steps forward crowding into your space backing you into the bed till the back of your calves hit the edge. Wrapping his arms around your plush form to brush hands away and do the task himself. Finger tips skimming the edges of both straps till reaching the top at your shoulders and drawing them down. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while pulling the garment from your pliant body tossing it behind him. Eyes flicking down on a groan, licking his dry lips at the beauty displayed for his ravenous gaze.

“Lay down for me sweetheart,” meeting your lust blown orbs with his own. “I wanna see you in my bed,” biting off a whimper when you drop onto the edge. Bountiful breasts bouncing teasingly as he watches you slide backwards towards the head board. Hands going to the button of your jeans, low growl pausing your nimble fingers. “That’s for me to do baby girl, just,” swallowing harshly as he looks you over. Partially naked spread out over his bed picture perfect memory for those times when the darkness tries to steal this happiness. “Give me a moment to drink you in.” Unable to decide where to look first, “So fucking gorgeous.” Toeing off his boots, hands going to his own jeans your shaking head pausing the movements.

“I get the same pleasure,” licking your lips slowly while raising up on your elbows. Beckoning him with two crooked fingers, hand resting with the palms up beside your plush body, “Get up here before I get impatience and take matters into my own hands.”

Declaration making him pause a moment low growl rumbling from deep with in his chest. As desire blown green meet yours, smirk gracing his handsome features. One knee comes to rest on the mattress Dean leans forward keeping eyes locked while pressing a kiss to your ankle. Grinning, feeling the quiver that runs through your body. “You wouldn’t dare sweetheart,” adding his other knee to spread your legs and slowly fit his body between.

“Shall we make a bet Winchester?” Using your free foot to brushing the nearest thigh with the flat. Sliding towards the very noticeable bulge busting the seams of his jeans, toes teasing the thick ridge before pressing the flat of your foot against him. Rubbing the length slowly pleased when a growl echos the room.

Grabbing that foot tickling the pad enjoying the way you squirm and giggle. Taking the opportunity to move fully between your legs. “About that bet hum,” fingertips drawing an invisible path of fire down the middle your body. Bracing then both arms on either side of your shoulders hovering over you, warm breath fanning out over your cheek he nuzzles with stubbled chin. Pulling a whimper from your gasping lips.

Of there own accord, your hands slide up the strength of his arms and biceps to clasping fingers together around the back of his neck. Left leg draped over his waist to pull him against your pelvis, breathless moan parting your lips at the contact of his hard length pressing into your dripping center. “I don’t want slow or gentle Dean,” head tipping back to give access to his questing lips that find your wildly thumping pulse, sucking a mark into the soft skin. “We have all night for that I just…” words caught upon seeing whiskey flecked green eyes dilated almost pitch with desire. Cheshire Cat grin tugging kiss swollen lips upward.

“Just what sweetheart?” Humming, brushing your lips together before returning to his last spot. One hand dragging over your soft body cupping the generous globe massaging gently feeling the nipple peak against his palm. Teasingly circling the stiff nub with the tip of his index finger before giving a sharp pinch and making you gasp out. Back arching at the pleasurable pain skittering across your veins.

Grasping what’s left of your mind to try and form coherent words, body responding instead pressing your chest into his large hand. Nails score down his back, one completing the journey to give his ass a tight squeeze. As the other detours to between your intimately pressed body. Happy to find enough space to slot your palm against his erection, cupping his throbbing length and giving short little strokes. Smile blooming with a breathless groan against your collarbone where Dean’s forehead currently rests. Nimble fingers pop the small metal disk, pulling the zipper tab down to slip the hand inside. Warmth enveloping palm feeling him twitch has you slowly licking your lips at the mire thought of getting to taste him.

“You’re killing me Y/N,” rutting his hips into your hand, mouth coming back to claim yours in a punishingly bruising kill. Tangling your tongues together, nipping a little harder on your bottom lip than meaning to but the accompanying moan flows straight to his cock. Making him twitch against your palm that has slowed with the distraction of the kiss.

Breaking for air, panting while trying to form and speak the right words, “We’re both a little over dressed Dean.” Pulling your hand from the tight confines of his jeans, using the one at his ass to help pull them and his boxers down only stopping when you couldn’t reach anything passed his knees. Sigh of relief exists his parted lips making you giggle and press a kiss to his chin. “Feel better?” Bottom lip trapped and nibbled on as your fingers brush his length. Finding your fingers barely wrap around the girth while to stroke, palm sliding over precum leaking head. Hips thrust forward at the sensations tingling down his back gathering low in his belly.

“Now who’s over dressed?” Mumbling the words against your skin. Dean regretfully brushes your hand aside grinning at the annoyed huff that leaves your lips. “Ah sweetheart put that sexy pout away you’ll get a chance to taste me soon enough. Cause if you keep using that soft hand on my cock I’ll cum faster than I want.”

His words presenting so many thoughts to run through your mind only cut off when wet warm heat engulfs your right nipple. Tongue flicking quickly over taut peak, blunt teeth nipping then soothing over with the tip of his tongue. Switching to the twin leaving both sloppy wet and tight, gleaming in the low light of his room. Worshipping at the temple of your body with kisses pressed into your tummy, running scared callused hands over your skin in silent reverence. Eyes taking in very inch Dean sits back on his knees between your parted legs. Tracing his knuckles along the seam of your jeans covered cunt, making you jolt against him.

Pausing to strip your jeans and panties from your body, tossing them and kicking his own off to land somewhere on the floor. Raising up on elbows to finally get a chance to look at him in all his naked glory. Tracing each divot of scars over a broad chest, passing over the middle to admire thick bowed legs spread wide. Lips licked slowly upon landing on his ridge cock, slightly curved and resting against his lower belly. Palm itching for a touch, mouth watering for that taste. “You’re beautiful Dean,” words whispered so low your unsure if he’s really heard them.

Heat blooms over his cheeks at your admission, looking your fill of his adonis body. Dean returns the admiration. Tracing the features of your beloved face, staring a little too long at your heaving breasts, soft tummy he wants to nibble on at some point. Thick thighs he can’t wait to have wrapped around his waist once he’s buried deep inside your wet heat. The very though has his eyes dropping between your parted legs, glistening folds beckoning him forward. Caught in that tempting trance, Dean slides back between your legs. Brushing his lips just above your mound and receiving a whimper from you. Locking eyes, “I think you got that backwards sweetheart, it’s you who’s beautiful.” Dipping to run the thick flat of his tongue through your folds, humming at the tangy sweetness exploding over his taste buds.

Hips cantering against his mouth, your own letting a deep moan free as one hand slides down to card through his short brown locks. Tugging the strands getting a groan to vibrate against your cunt while his talented tongue dances through your soaked folds. Torturing your clit with ghosted touches, one arm wraps around our thigh spreading you open. As the other slips a finger inside your wet channel, finding you squeezing and tight, garnering a deep groan of arousal from the man between your lips.

“Dean,” voice wrecked and he’s barely touched you. When he doesn’t answer or budge from his sensual assault on your cunt. Lips having formed a perfect O around your clit, tongue flicking kitten licks to the tiny nerve filled nub. Pleased with he whimpers and whines that filter through his desire filled mind.

Resulting in you tugging on his hair harder, back arching as a small shock rocks through your body, tingling your belly when he bites carefully on your clit. “Dean please,” eyes rolling back into your head at the added second finger. Crooked and pressing into the little spongy spot you’ve never had anyone touch. Ripping a half scream from the hidden depths of your soul.

Smug smirk tugging over slick wet lips, stubbled chin coming to rest just above your mound. Watching as you heave a breath, breasts catching his eyes for a moment till you tug again. Fingers anything but still as they thrust and scissor you open, working you carefully to fit his slightly above average length not wanting to hurt you. “Yes sweetheart?” Licking his lips from your slick.

Free hand coming up to cover your heated face, “Don’t sound so smug,” gasping the last word when his thumb brushes over your clit making you jump and wither. Heat spreading from that special spot in your belly, where the tight coil starts to wind higher. Thick thighs tremble with each sensation Dean draws out of you. “Need you, please, please.”

Caressing your quivering walls with the gun callused pads of his fingers, massaging your clit as you plead. Breath chocked out on another moan, chest heavy, heat coating your skin as you wither under him. “Ah but I can’t help myself sweetheart you don’t know what seeing you like this does to me.”

Gathering what little strength you have in your limbs to reach down and cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over the skin under his eyes. “Why don’t you get up here and show me Dean?” Voice wreaked yet a tender undertone rides through the cadence.

Pressing a single kiss to the pulsing little clit, giving once last flick making your squirm and Dean to chuckle. Slowly pulling his fingers out, stroking twice more your hips chasing the indescribable ecstasy winding its way through your veins. Only to have the tingles dance slower, the coil start to unwind as frustrated huff leaving your gasping lips.

Taking advantage to plunder your mouth, greedy for a sample of the wet cavern and a tongue tango that draws out a sharp moan of need. Especially tasting your tangy sweetness from his lips, sucking the bottom between your teeth to nibble. While reaching blindly over to the nightstand, damn near yanking the whole draw on the ground in his haste. “Give me a sec woman,” huffing out he rolls slightly off you. The noise drawing a giggle out causing him too stiffen, glancing back with a playful glare to refocus on finding his prize.

Using the opportunity to nose the thick column of his neck, taking in the scent of whiskey, leather and motor oil, peppered now with sex and sweat. Addicting and unable to help yourself from sink your teeth into his skin gently but hard enough to leave a small soon to purple mark. Soothing over with the flat of your tongue catching sight of the pause your actions caused. The aroused moan that leaves his lips, head resting on the bed to try and gather himself from your onslaught.

“Something wrong Dean?” Nipping just below his jaw, tracing your fingers along his side. Index finger swirling through the spares, crisp hairs leading a path to what you’ve craved to have inside you for a long time. Nimble fingers surround the base forming a perfect circle that can’t close but tightens. Stroking his length teasingly slow. In return receiving a warning growl — the sound devastating your senses making you throb — from the man currently fishing for a condom and growing frustrated when his fingers come up empty. “Shall I stop my love? Am I distracting you?” Whispered words breathed into his ear, lips kissing the shell. Knowing damn well just how tormenting you are to his senes and body. If his twitching cock your hand currently wrapping around stroking and the shallow breaths are any indication.

“Ha,” triumphant shout of accomplishment, Dean rolls back over you pressing bodies together and into the mattress. “Now where were we?” Flashing that teasing smirk with a hard rutting of his hips against your dripping core and tight fisted hand.

“What to you so long stud?” Biting back the giggles when he fixes you with a scowl.

Breath hissing out through clinched teeth when taking your hand off his cock, bringing those wickedly wonderful fingers to his lips and sucking on each one with a short nibble. Placing the open condom pack in your palm, “Do the honors sweetheart.”

Curling your fingers around the little foil packet, pressing your other hand into the back of his neck drawing Dean in for a tender kiss. Slow meld of your lips, light sips of your warm mouths. Tenderly tugging his bottom lip, to slide your tongue over the bruised skin and into his mouth. Licking and touring the heated cavern, seeking out ways to make his moan and grunt. A moment of forgetfulness while mapping his tonsils and sucking on his tongue, till you break for air. Chasing his mouth for more kisses only to receive a chuckle instead.

Eyes open to spear him with a heated look, foil packet crinkling in your hand a remind of your mission. Slipping fingers from his soft hair, to trace over his body, joining its partner between the two of your heaving bodies. Unlocking your eyes to glance down, hand wrapping back around his thick shaft to stroke twice getting a needy moan from the man above you. Before teasingly rolling the condom on paying special attention to the thick pulsing vein on the underside, mouth watering at the thoughts of getting to taste it later.

Dean grasps one of your hips to bring the leg around his waist, opening you up and feeling your soft skin under his palm. Sliding between your bodies to entwine his fingers with your, pumping his cock together. Different sounds, a hiss from Dean and a moan from you exists on shuttering breaths. Eyes reattach both blown with desire and coated in need, you notch the head of his cock at your entrance pressing the heel of your foot into the small of his back to urge him forward.

Teeth clamping to draw blood from your bottom lip but also to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he slowly sinks inside your quivering depths. Reaching up with his other hand to free your bruised lip, brushing the pad of his thumb over the glistening skin. “I wanna hear you sweetheart don’t hold back.”

“What about Sam?” Breath hitching, mouth hanging open on a moan that’s trapped on the edge of a scream when he bottoms out against you. Bodies flush, joined hands now resting above your head where Dean’s placed them.

Leaning in to press open mouth kisses to your lips and neck letting you adjust to his size, the exquisite stretch thumps through your veins the slight sting only heightening the pleasure. “Never mention his name while we’re in bed sweetheart,” snagging the lobe of your ear with his teeth. Pleased when you nod speechless, though not enough, “Words baby girl I wanna hear that prefect voice of yours.”

Swallowing trying to form words to answer, scoring your nails down his back an impatience mewling whimper leaves instead. Using the leg not wrapped around Dean’s waist as leverage to plant and push your hips up against him. Squeezing your walls tightly around his shaft drawing out a grunt from his lips. “Dean…” going to say more but he chooses that moment to pull out till just the crown rested inside your pulsing channel. “Just you…” hips snapping forward to fill you quickly stealing those words into a loud scream of ecstasy.

Starting a hard punishing rhythm, repeatedly waiting till your fixing to speak and either pulling out or trusting home. Always taking away what your going to say. Knowing your trapped between frustration and pleasure, Dean captures your mouth in another deep kiss. While his hips snap against yours, wrapping the other leg around his waist to angle you differently. Pressing your intertwined hands into the pillow beside your head and breaking the bruising kiss to gulp a lung full of air into both your burning lungs.

Feeling your walls start to quiver around his hammering cock, knowing by the pinched look on your countenance, the quivering of your thick thighs clutching at his trim waist. Heels pressing into the small of his back drawing him forward with quickened strokes that he’s shortened from the long deep thrusts. Notching your legs higher on his waist to press forward, curling his pelvis into your core, determined to make you cum first. Wanting to feel you soak his cock, see the looks of pleasure dance across your features.

Sliding his fingers through your soaked folds to find your pearl pulsing, pressing the pad of his thumb circling to make a gasp fly from your lips. Back arching, tingles no longer gentle but tap dancing a rhythm through your veins. Dean’s name a chant from your dry, parched lips, panting to try and fill your starving lungs. Body vibrating on a higher frequency only Dean’s turned in on as with every snap of his hips, brush of his thumb sends your spiraling deeper into euphoria.

Reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck to bring him back down for another kiss. This one sloppy as the thrusts of Dean’s hips, brief touches of lips, wet slide of your tongues across the other. Eyes sliding closed only to snap back open with a pinch to your nipple soothed over my his teasing fingers.

“Keep those beautiful eyes open for me sweetheart and cum for me I know your close. You just gotta let go for me,” resting your foreheads together, gritting his teeth to starve off his own orgasm. The wet clinch almost too much for Dean to handle. Always wondering but never imagining how good this truly would feel.

“Dean,” breathing out his name, a series of moans and whimpers following. Trying to capture his mouth for another kiss that’s broken off when your orgasm slams into you soaking Dean’s cock in your slick. Eyes rolling back his name a screamed prayer from your lips.

Body convulsing in pleasurable all consuming fire, little sparks of light pin prick behind your tightly closed eyes. Moisture breath fans out over your neck where Dean buries his face, lips pressing into your skin. Chasing that high while working you through your orgasm the wet clinch of your walls prove too much to starve off any long. Giving in with a groan of your name rubbed into your skin as he fills the condom. Circling his hips a few more times to drag out the pleasurable spikes racking his frame.

Collapsing into your arms a welcome weight pressing you into the mattress as you both try to capture your breath. He brings your joined hands down starting to untwine them but the shake of your head stops the actions.

“For a few moments longer,” voice hoarse from screaming out your pleasure. Free hand coming up to card through his sweat drenched hair. Brushing the strands back from his forehead and sliding your lips over his. Brief touches, lingering into something deeper. Tender caresses of mouth’s, nibbling, and sucking softly on bruised skin. Dean starts to move getting a whimpered whine from your throat tightening your arms around him.

“Gotta clear you up sweetheart I’m not going anywhere,” reassuring you with another soft kiss while carefully pulling out of your tender depths. Mesmerized by the slick coating your tights and dripping from your convulsing walls. Brushing his fingers over the reddening swollen skin, gasp reaching his ears, eyes flying up to yours. Then flicking across your body seeing the beard burn on your neck and chest, hand prints blooming over your hips. “Did I hurt you?”

Sitting up to cup his cheeks, “No Dean you didn’t hurt me. If you had I would’ve told you.” Leaning in to kiss him tendering, “Better take care of that mess it’ll get awful sticky otherwise,” giving him a bright smile. Watching while he gingerly takes the spent condom off, tying it closed before tossing it into the waste bin by the night stand.

Raising to walk on shaky bowed legs to grab up the wash cloth from the sink. Wetting with warm water he turns back stunned to find you watching him with a grin on your lips. “Like what you see?”

“Hmm no,” seeing the frown you go to finish. “Love Dean, I see the man I love,” frown switching to teasing smirk as he nears the bed.

Nudging you to lay back and spread your legs, tenderly wiping you clean. Dragging the warm cloth over your folds and inner thighs. Tossing it behind him to crawl into bed gathering your pliant plush body against his hard chest. Back pressed into his front, arms wrapped tightly around your thick waist. Placing a kiss to your shoulder, “I love to you Y/N, get some rest I’m far from through with you.”

Soft giggles vibrate into his chest, “Careful you’re getting old baby you sure you’ll have the stamina?” Toying with the fingers tapping against your tummy sending shivers cross your body.

Low growl accompanies the drag of his teeth over your sensitive skin, drawing a moan from your lips. Pressing his hips into your generous ass, “Give me an hour sweetheart and I’ll show you just how much stamina your man has.”

[queen-ch3rry]

hello! I came across ur blog after watching the cars movie with a friend. I noticed u are very into some of the cars and call them hot. what makes a certain car sexy? i am genuinely curious. thank you ^__^

Hello anon!

Thank you for the ask :)

Well, wow.... this is actually the first time I've been asked this so I will do the best I can to make sense of it and actually put it into words instead of just the thoughts that ramble through my head

warning, this may be long

Let's take the first part of your ask: I call some of the cars "hot."

You're right. I do. I have. I probably always will? What makes them hot to me is also what makes them quite sexy... in fact - potentially unpopular opinion - I don't really find any of the male Cars franchise characters to be "cute" as I've heard others say

First of all, when I look at any of my faves (Doc Hudson, Sheriff, Big D, etc.), they are just effortlessly attractive. Their chrome catches the light and sparkles like gemstones. It also reflects beautiful colors of sunsets, sunrises, scenery. Even when it's no longer on par for perfection (as in the case of Smokey), its dull gloss has a certain mystery like an old, decayed mirror

Then there's the paint. Unlike we humans who must pick and choose clothing, their paint is a constant coat of either glamour (Ramone and Flo), or a statement of who they are (racecars in their livery), or just a plain something-or-other that suits them.

But it looks good. And the right colors can compliment their styles beautifully. To say nothing of metal flake: pure magic.

Even when they're dusty, just a quick rinse-off or rainshower and they're back to glossiness again

What else makes these cars hot or sexy or attractive? It's their personalities. Behavior. That gaze of determination, pride... like these examples for one of my favorite guys...

There's something about those expressions that for me is like a flash of lightning in the dark. It's handsome and beautiful and just striking. It's timeless, just like their classic styling always will be

And they never look dumpy... even with a rusted example like Smokey, it's only the paint that's lacking. He still retains the same glory from his youth. The bodies just don't get out of shape and change

They have style. The curve and swoop of fenders from the 1930s. Hood ornaments. Spoked wheels. Hubcabs. So many styles of grilles. I can insert my own beloved classic, Harlan, here as an example: (art belongs to me)

Even when accidents happen (in the case of Doc's crash) that leave bodies carrying scrapes and scars across once sleek and straight forms, it's like the cars still wear them with a wartorn pride. For a car isn't like a person who can choose to cover something up with sleeves, you could say. They have to wear their history upon them, short of those who choose to go to a shop to get it erased from them, which like reconstructive surgery, isn't a choice for everyone

As we can see with some images of Doc, his fenders and sides are still scraped up. Yet even though he got put back together, he didn't remove his entire past. His past made him who he is; why change every bit of it?

And then.... I could write an entire essay on how I feel about this man

But I think looks say enough here?

I hope I managed to answer your question somewhat; again it's hard to actually describe the feeling but I think I covered it okay!

[wonwooridul]

🥰 every month of 2021 🥰

i was tagged by my best of the besties @soonwnu @coupsnim and @woozi to post my favorite or most popular post from each month this year (it’s okay to skip months).

thankyou you legends <3 i really look up to y’all.

i was very new to content creation in januaray since i started creation in nov of 2020!

January: This was supposed to be posted in jan but i accidently did in dec lol. I really like this boo vs dino gfx I made for svtsource tumblr awards. Then the Jackson missing hours set. i just started making content so there isnt much to show.

February: Starting of with one of my fave sets, seokshine is better than sunshine. Then this set of smiley dino. This adorable coupsie set that i made for dreamy <3 my first time trying sparkles and hoshi for elle looked amazing, gummy smile vernon. lastly, this ot13 birthday set for my birthday twin mirelle <3

March: i wasnt active in march and i only made like two sets that arent worth showing so skip!

April: A 9-gif set of gentle sexy. personally, this cracks me up everytime, the time members were ready to send hoshi to tigercage. And lastly, my chaotic bestfriends boogyu set.

May: the time i realised i am in l*ve with jeon wonwoo. i really liked these gifs of minghao , theyre clean and also the reds in them <3 this was around the time i started getting a hang of what colours i liked and didnt. XMH fave photoshoot gfx. And ofc my beloved svt 6th anniversary gifset which took me so long.

June: starting with best set,,, svt + animals which was made for n <3 Next, this sunshine seok for mirelle <3

July: This wonwoo + flowers gfx. i wasnt very active in july too but i made shit tons of stuff in august lol.

August: i made lot here that i actually like so im just gonna link <3 wisbee with mara (i’m sorry if u don’t have the humour, this is classic), ofc coups birthday set, masterpiece xu minghao for bias swap, hoshi is cora’s bias set for carat anon, hoshi allure recolour (from b&w), moonlight jun set for al <3, prince dk set (this is by far one of my fave gifsets, i love the colouring and the gifs were very clean, sharp and smooth), VU op2 shoot recolour, wonwoo + glasses (my beloved)

September: ehm, lighthearted people are not advised to open cause jarms set, jeonghan in fear mv (finally had the courage the recolour this cursed white jeonghan in fear mv and it turned out well), jeonghan 1st look and vernon pure as melody gfx.

October: i think i did all years worth in october. when i was looking though my stuff all i could find was stuff from october lmao and these are creations that i actually like quite alot. here they are: jeonghan + monet birthday set, jun vlog, danger hoshi, changer jun & nature wonwoo with al, attacca tracks as posters, ot13 RWY set (this set got the most notes this year), missing junhao for alicia, my top 9 moments series, Mingyu racing gazette gfx, soongyu cuddle buddies, s.coups allure recoloured (from blue)

November: prolly my fave gfx, Hao birthday set, woozi birthday set (i didnt like it much but it was still cute, i spend alot of time on it), GoSe Ego posters. i was busy cause i was moving for uni so i couldnt make anything in the second half of nov.

December: lover of mine dk gfx, we fell in love in oct shua gfx, my whole svt concepts as films series <3 currently working on one shua gfx and birthday set, hoping to complete before i go back home !

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

i would like to take this post to appreciate all my beloved mutuals and friends on this site. thankyou for supporting me and always making me smile this whole year. thankyou for leaving cute tags under my posts. y'all were one of the reasons i kept going this year <3 i would like to thank all the beautiful souls at my carat club discord server <3 y'all are my internet family <3

i hope all of you have a great holiday and eat delicious food and spend time without loved ones <3 happy holidays my lovelies <3

tagging: (i dont know who all have been tagged so ill tag a few<3) @soonkwans @seohoshi @dearmyfeb @dearkyeom @dkymm @scoups @aquynh @dokyom @kdongyoung @elfyuta @pdwoozi @yoonzinoswife @softhyungkyun @merry-kwanmas @kingleedo @kyeomblr @kveom @sannie-hannie @wonwoosjeon @awek-s @julyprince @soonshuas (im sorry if you have done already <3)

[interact-if]

Umm hi 👉👈 I realized that most of the asks you guys get are about games and rec lists. You guys deserve so much recognition for the work you put in this blog, so I wanted to ask if I can do a little get-to-know-the-mods thing? If that's okay!

1. Besides writing, what are your hobbies?

2. Do you have a niche interest right now?

3. Any fave songs/artists/bands?

4. Any fave movies/tv shows?

5. On a scale of 1-10, how likely would you survive in your wip's world?

You can totally ignore this if you guys want, no pressure. Anyway, much love to all the interact-if mods! You guys are incredible! ❤

We saw this ask and we went 👀 👀 👀 so we’re happy to answer! Thank you so much for the fun ask!

 We also rated our survivability in all of our collective games, since Mars isn't an author! Fun stuff! Spoilers, though: it’s really not looking so great for me (Dani) but that’s fine!!!  😌

1. I’m a photographer as well as a graphic artist (but not like. A painter/drawer kind of artist!) and, on a general level, a maker and a tinkerer!

2. Fountain pens! I only write with ink, and only with fountain pens, and I use bottled inks/converters!

3. I’m pretty eclectic with music, but my top genres are alt rock, indie, indie pop, etc, as well as top 40s and some rap.

4. I feel like this is the hardest one for me to answer? Favorite movies/shows? Avatar: the Last Airbender has been a favorite show of mine since I was a little kid, but I have a harder time thinking of shows I would call a favorite in recent years. There are shows I’ve liked, and a lot of shows I’ve watched. But I’m picky! And demanding! It takes a lot to earn a place in Dani’s Trophy Case of Favorites. 😌 I would say I quite liked A Quite Place (movie), and I liked Us (movie). When it comes to TV shows, I have a hard time being pleased with them if they don’t end well. As a result, I have a penchant for a good limited series/miniseries (because they’re stories that have an end in mind and the plot reflects that, dagnabbit).

5. Heh. Okay.

In The Goodfellows? I think I stand I chance. I can exercise my sparkling wit and lovable personality to the best effect. I’m gonna give myself an 8/10 survivability rating. Even if I don’t have the right skills, I can go crying to the person who does and they’ll save me. Maybe.

In Creatures’ Cradle? I’m super $**!%d. 😌 1/10 survivability rating. And that 1 is me being nice to myself. The day the apocalypse breaks out I would probably be patient 0. I am self-aware. I would not do well in an apocalypse. Zombies care not for aforementioned sparkling wit and lovable personality, and I have all the muscle of a boiled spaghetti noodle. So it’s a no go.

Greater Than Gods (Cruz): Well. I’m going to be optimistic. And say that I have the wisdom not to do things I shouldn’t do and not to rock boats I shouldn’t rock. I’m going to give myself a 7/10 based on insider information, but also based on reckless optimism!

Vardir (Cruz): Cruz says this is a lighthearted game, so 10/10 LOL.

When it Hungers (Roast): I’m giving myself a nice, mediocre 5/10. I think I could put my mind to work here; I joke that I’m the village idiot, but I’m actually pretty smart! Unfortunately, I’m also curious, and maybe a little bad with authorities who won’t answer my questions. So I knocked off a lot of points due to the fact that I’d probably poke the metaphorical bear. So it’s a real coin flip as to whether I’d really make it or not.

Orthall Bay (Nines): Considering the genre is “horror” and the game intro includes the words “monster” and “maim,” I’m giving myself a whooping, enthusiastic 3/10. Yes, folks, I am that confident in myself! Once again, I can’t charm the socks off a monster (or can I?), so one of my greatest weapons is snatched from beneath my feet. Alas!

1. Beloved I’m a college student in the middle of a pandemic... i can hardly even write LOL i do draw at times which u can see in my personal blog (nothing too good really) and i used to do karate before things went to shit <3

2. Nothing niche I believe? All I do is leave Netflix as bg noise every day n play popular videgames (genshin)

3. Porter Robinson <3 I love Bea Miller a lot as well but lately I’ve been feeling Porter a lot

4. The Good Place <3

5. My WIPs:

Greater than Gods: Highly situational, the world GtG is set in is as broad as the real world LOL so I don’t have an universal answer. But keeping it vague, and knowing my own personality, I feel like 5/10. depends on my luck.

Vardir: 10/10 no one dies in Vikgade, unless you’re a hunter but I wouldn’t be a hunter <3

Others’ WIPs

I'm gonna give myself a solid 5/10 in all other WIPs because y'all aren't writing lighthearted stories either. I feel like as long as I avoid the role of the MC I will be mostly fine. I hope. But as Dani said I'm also prone to fight the wrong person and dig my own grave so 😌

1. Well, writing is a very, very, very, distant hobby since Words Hard, but I like to crochet and sculpt a little! Anything to do with fiddling with my hands and I’m good to go. And like, debatable but graphic design is my passion [insert clown emoji here since Tumblr said No]

2. Oh yeah a bunch! DnD yelling at people, thinking of arson, crocheting, rock climbing and simply vibing. I got into podcasts a few years ago and I’m always looking for more recs, so if you have some, hmu 😤

3. Pls,,,,my music taste is,,,so weird do not let me expose myself with lack of consistency but uhh. Current songs that are stuck in my head include; Cult of Dionysus , Achilles Come Down and The Last Shanty  

4. If you’ve ever spoken to me before, I probably yelled about Pacific Rim to you or at you. Plus I love all The Mummy films and really enjoyed Castlevania (s3 excluded, we do not perceive that) as well! 

5. Ah, mod survival simulator pt. 3

Alright, let’s go!  I don’t have a WIP because again, words hard, but like, considering how feral I am when not tryna seem professional hm... 

The Goodfellows: I wanna say a solid 7/10 because I’d hardcore vibe with the Traveler and probably instigate so much nonsense. I can also bribe with blueberry cake so maybe. 

Creature’s Cradle: maybe a 4/10 and only because of pure spite keeping me alive long enough to smack someone. I’ve prepared for hypothetical  zombie apolcapyses and I won’t hesitate to bap, but will be bapped back because I’m weak as hell. 

Greater Than Gods: a toss up between 2/10 and 7/10! I can vibe and be chill but I also have terrible impulse control so... 

Vardir: hm....I think pretty good survival rates all around? If you ask me to fight then like, okay sure, your knees are mine. So maybe a 8/10? 

When it Hungers: .......8/10 just because I’d refuse to die if I can be a cool creature. Living for the aesthetic can and will drag me outta hell. But I’m also clumsy as hell so I’d probably crash as a porcelain or hold a rooster and perish (aka, real rating is a good 3/10) 

Orthall Bay: 2/10, nope. Nope I’d be taken out in a heartbeat. Monsters can go pspsps and I’d head straight into the dark creepy forest like a fool if someone comes @ me. Half the time I’ll just assume it’s sfx makeup and vibe until it’s too late. 

god, never put me in a universe where I cannot squawk like a bird and throw pebbles from a window. Oof

Anon, you're so sweet! I give you a forehead smoomch <333 As for your questions...

1. If I'm not writing, I'm usually watching video essays on Youtube. My go-to channels as of right now is Disrupt and Aperture! I just really like their videos. Aside from that, I recently got into podcasts. Currently going through Hello From The Hallowoods and Shelter and Warning, which are made by queer creators!

2. Oh oof, there's quite a bit so I'm just gonna put down one thing. For some reason, I really got into collecting tiny astronaut things? I recently bought this astronaut desk light, and I've got a package coming in for the miniatures I ordered. No purpose for them other than I think they're neat <3

3. I'm a bit private with my music taste (even tho I have Spotify connected on Discord lmao), but there's 5 songs that I'm currently obsessed with. I keep replaying them over and over again. Just squeezing all the serotonin I could get outta them.

4. I can't really say I have a fave TV show or movie because I can't really just pick one, but my current fave is 9-1-1 and Resident Alien. 9-1-1 because I just really love the found-family dynamics and how the show tackles sensitive topics, and Resident Alien because it's lighthearted comedy. My all-time fave movie is Flipped! I have the book too and I like rereading from time to time <3

5. You're in for a doozy, anon, because we're rating each other's games <333

The Goodfellows: 7/10

Listen. Shenanigans with the Traveler. I would get up to so many of them and that is what'll get me possibly bodied, not the actual environment itself <3

Greater than Gods: 7/10

I like to think I have enough common sense to uhhh not recklessly flip stones that should not be flipped <3 I'm a cautious and skeptic person irl so I think I'll hold up well? Then again, it's a vast environment change and while I can adapt pretty quick, I wouldn't like the lack of control in the unknown.

Vardir: 10/10

Going off what Cruz said, Vardir is lighthearted and focused on personal growth so I think I'll be okay! Self-growth here I come, babey!

Creatures' Cradle: 8/10

Maybe I'm overestimating myself, but I think I'll be able to survive in a supernatural post-apocalyptic world! Ah, but it depends on the motivation though. I like the idea of rebuilding communities and eventually societies, but the survival turmoil would be a constant battle I'd have to overcome. If we're talking survival itself though, I think I'll do well.

When it Hungers: 8/10

That's probably my wishful thinking but I think I'll be fine. Maybe. Possibly. Don't like the idea of being regulated by an organization so if I was a non-human creature that could pose a problem but I can roll with it <3

Orthall Bay: 6/10

Assuming I'm not playing as MC, my chances of survival uhhh changes quite drastically. Not enough to guarantee an untimely demise, but certainly enough that it would constantly keep me on my toes. I think that's the safest answer I can get without spoiling anything lmao

Thank you so much for asking! It's super sweet of you <3

1. Too many :'D I knit, I sew, I do carpentry (well, learning), I bake, I'm hammering away at HTML and CSS, my job kind of encourages learning new things and I take that to picking up new hobbies!

2. My time is kind of consumed with school work and work work and WIP work so not a lot of time to pursue niche interests right now. I've been watching a lot of horror game playthroughs, true crime youtubers, and an adorable show on Netflix called the Repair Shop <3

3. My taste in music is "what am I vibing with atm?" I've been listening to a lot of 80's music atm (don't @ me), but also Lo Fang and Kaleo, and whatever spotify recommends me on my discover weekly which is usually complete chaos.

4. I love the Mummy even though it hasn't aged 100% well (I'm a librarian, of course it's one of my gotos LOL), Legally Blonde, Leverage, Jumanji (the original), I'm....very bad at having recent tastes... and very bad at remembering my favorites when asked.

5.

The Goodfellows: I'm a creature of comfort, 5/10 if I can just luxuriate in town and not actually interact with the story sfjkdbsdkf

Creature’s Cradle: I'd like to think I have a 50/50 shot XD 5/10, I want to think I'd be decent at a zombie apocalypse but ultimately would suffer an early fate.

Greater Than Gods: 10/10 if I'm just vibing, less so if I'm involved in the actual story XD

Vardir: I'd still suffer without technology but I can also knit for a living in this world so I'm down 8/10

When it Hungers: I feel like I could vibe here, there's tech if dated, hot showers, telephones are around by now... might still get bored. 7/10 though it'd be cool to be another creature....I should make a 'what creature of snv are you' quiz!

Orthall Bay: 7/10 idk I feel like after the first monster of the week I'd just skip town XDDDD I'm the worst protagonist, I see danger I just leave.

[shibaraki]

Hello tis I, sick-anon, to inform you that I sat and cried like a baby at ur latest gojo fic. I too want to be someone’s favorite person even as I am lethargic with fever and desperately trying to keep my ~sparkle~amid the fact that I feel like hot trash. Thank you once again for thrashing my emotions (and I promise that I am Taken Care Of, I had Covid and had to be isolated so I have a whole 10 days of Sick And Lonely Feelings to deal with lmao)

ohh beloved I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been sick and having to isolate. very glad you’re taken care of, though!! thank you so much for reading it, I can’t say I’m happy you cried (that would be odd) but it’s lovely knowing it evoked so many feelings for u <3

[izusun]

TSoA anon here again — I’m gonna give you even more angst 🤧 Baku fits as Achilles so much also because Achilles was the only one who saw Patro for who he really is. Baku sees Deku for who he really is even through his “I’m fine” act. Tbh they can work as Baku = Patro and Deku = Achilles too, but I personally think they’re perfect as Baku explosive fame-obsessed prodigy and Deku bff and secret quirkless boyfriend trying to get him to see that there’s more to life than just fame and battle 👆🏼

[prev ask]

HSNWKSJKAKS I LOVE THIS AU SM OH MY GODDD

i love love bkdk x tsoa so much; no matter who is who, shit always ends up good.

because of my convo with peach i was deep into achilles//midoriya parallels but at the same time, bakugou just perfectly parallels achilles too dhsildks

patroclus being slighted in his childhood because he is *normal (hated by his father, disrespected by the servants despite being a prince, being bullied by nobility) and midoriya being bullied because of his quirklessness.

*normal = as a prince, patroclus was expected to be physically fit and strong, but he is physically unfit and his legs are too weak for running (they hold olympic games). midoriya’s quirkless status being the anomaly; his quirklessness being equated to weakness.

achilles who didn’t even have a mentor at that age but could already wield two swords at the same time, feet so fast it’s like running with the wind. bakugou who adapted to his quirk as easy as breathing, contorting his body to the best way it could to produce more explosions.

achilles who was raised with the knowledge that he’s the best of the best; bakugou who was surrounded by yes-men because they know he’d be the strongest hero.

patroclus who was ignored by his adoptive brothers; midoriya being shunned by his classmates.

SO MUCH PARALLELS AAAHHHHHH

AND THEN WHEN THEY FELL IN LOVE???

achilles seeing the different strengths of patroclus—drawn to his honesty and kindness and the anger that hides underneath a subservient front; bakugou seeing the truth of midoriya’s strength—that it’s not just physical but also emotional and mental, that his determination runs course because of his anger.

AND YOU KNOW WHEN HE WAS SKYROS, ACHILLES WAS ABLE TO HIDE THAT LONG BECAUSE HE HAS A FEMININE FIGURE AND THEY DISGUISED HIM AS PYRRHA?

RIGHT OK WELL LOOK AT BAKUGOU’S PETITE FRAME ASHSJSJ

actually, bakugou doesn’t really look feminine but it’s just so captivating to see how both him and achilles look so lithe when, in fact, they’re the strongest of their eras. it’s just so nice to see how they wield their beauty like a sword; how their very faces can be weapons. i just love it lots.

AND

this patroclus quote:

and these panels:

are just so beautiful.

patroclus was saying how even if he is in madness, he’ll remember achilles. that even if the gods failed him and led him to his corruption, he’d know his beloved. and then the panel of midoriya who was lost in his madness (to quote bakugou from ch319, “that damn nerd is insane. he doesn’t take himself into account. he always just insists he’s fine.”) getting back the sparkle in his eyes because he recognizes the AP shot that saved him and sees who it was that came for him.

patroclus especially talking about achilles’s eyes and the way his face is “drawn by the flickering shadows.” and then we see bakugou from midoriya’s point of view: raindrops frozen, eyes the clearest we’ve seen, face shadowed by his hair, and utterly beautiful.

patroclus 🤝 midoriya, so in love with their mans.

sorry for the late response again dhansnsn thank u sm for this beautiful prompt! also i feel like im talking in jargon again so do forgive me. i just spat out another round of rambling and brainworming so aaaahhh

[sparklestardesigns]

KFJDFSGJSKLS THANK YOU OMG

I've had the idea for this for so long, I've wanted a clan where I can safely use star as a prefix but I never got any further than deciding on soul as the suffix. but these sparkle cats are just PERFECT for it

AND YES THEY ABSOLUTELY DO. lots of cats LOVE to show off. some cats are born with an extra power (and that's seen as a blessing from soulclan, and typically a sign that the cat will be Very Important), but leaders ALWAYS get an extra power, normally magic, when they receive their nine lives. typically it relates to their name, but obv not always. like, for instance one of the current leaders, snowsoul, they have ice magic! and they can drain all the heat in an area too. they're probably gonna be the first one I actually design tbh

- sparkle cat clans anon

NAW THANK U FOR TELLING ABT THIS AWESOME IDEA ANON‼️‼️ AND THATS VALID DJNDJSJCKF star prefixes are rlly cool so i don’t blame u LMAO using soul is perfect for it tho

HELLS YESSSS i love those characters who just brag about it they’re always the most silliest characters😭 im curious if they’d have different ranks esp for more blessed kitties who have more power!!!! SNOWSOUL MY BELOVED:!:??/?/??/ THEY SOUND SO COOL OMG(IM VERY BIASED CAUSS I LOVE SNOW- ANYTHING BUT STILL SNOWSOUL SUPREMACY‼️)

[bound-writings]

Teru x female reader who's bad at her studies headcannons! Teru has secret crush on her

BUEIDW I LOVE THIS SO MUCH I HOPE U ENJOY ANON!!! ALSO TAGGING @jshk-oneshots AND @toilettebound BC I THINK THEY WANTED TO SEE THE TERU FLUFF! ALSO @daikon-legss BC THEY ARE IN A TERU LOVING MOOD! (aLSO PARTIALLY INSPIRED BY CH 59 OF TBHK)

Teru Helping His Crush Study HCS

As we all know, Teru, quite frankly, is smart as hell. Good at English, bad with nothing. A ranking of #1 out of #231. A true perfect student. He’s never had too much trouble studying, so when you go up to him wailing about your studies, he’s a bit surprised (and also in awe at how cute you look.)

You quickly opened the door to the student council, slamming the door against the wall, your hand placed on your chest as you furiously looked around the room, looking for a specific cheese head which you secretly adored. You must have looked like a crazy person but you didn’t care right now. 

“(Name)?”

You whipped your head over to the direction of the voice. Teru was standing over his desk, his head tilted slightly to the side curiously, paperwork scattered about.

Cute, you thought.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of that kind of thought.

“(Name)? Are you ok? You look very frazzled-”

You ran up to him, your feet skidding to a halt as you clutched his shirt. 

“T-Teru… it’s the worst possible situation ever!”

Teru looked down at you. Big puppy eyes and your lip jutting out, small fingers locked onto his shirt and one hand even on his tie, you looked adorable. Your hair was ruffled and pieces were sticking out, some bags under your eye, and your chest was heaving up and down as if you were running for quite a while. The tips of his ears went red as you were so close to him, your warmth was a comfort to him.

“What’s the matter, (Name)?”

You buried his head into his chest, a small whine escaping you. 

“Finals, Teru. FINALS!”

Teru raised his eyebrows as he brought his fingers to his chin.

“Finals, huh…”

“Yes, finals! How and why do you sound so calm about it?!”

“Well-”

“Oh yea.. I almost forgot. You’re the undefeated top-scoring student, amazing at everything…” you sulked, fingers dragging down his chest. You turned your back to him as you crossed your arms, pouting.

“Now, (Name)… why are you so scared about it in the first place? You’re quite capable and smart.”

You whipped around, grabbing his shoulders as you pursed your lips. “That’s not even true! But the worst part is…”

“Is..?” Teru was amused at your antics. You were very entertaining, one of the reasons he loved you.

“Is that I’m absolutely lost when studying!”

Teru blinked his eyes at you, while you stared straight into his own with the most serious expression he’s ever seen on you before he broke out in a chuckle and covered his mouth to try to muffle his laughs. You furrowed your eyebrows at his reaction.

“Teru, this is not a laughing matter! I’m being 100% serious right now!”

Teru smiled at you as he gently removed your hands from his shirt and set them at your side, his heart slightly pounding against his chest as he savored the softness of your hands in his.

“(Name), I’m sure you’re exaggerating-”

“I’m not, Teru! Every time I tried to study, I always got distracted, or I don’t understand the material, and just- grr!” you scowled, running your hands through your hair. “And imagine what everyone will think when they see a member of the student council fail their exams! They’ll call me the dumbest person in the school!”

Then, your shoulders perked up, as you nervously glanced up at him. “T-That’s why I came to ask you to help me.”

“Oh?”

“Y-yea!” You glided over to Teru once again and clasped your hands together. “Please, Teru! Help me study!”

“Sure, (Name.)”

“Please, this is a once in a lifetime reque- eh?” You hastily looked up, eyes shining with hope. “You will?!”

Teru smiled as he smoothed your ruffled hair. “Of course, (Name.) Anything for you,” he said, twirling a lock of hair around his fingers.

You blushed as you bowed. “Thank you so much, Teru! Oh, I’ll help you finish all your paperwork and-”

“But-”

“Oh God, there’s a but?! Teru, please don’t make me do something crazy-”

“Don’t look so scared, I didn’t even say anything yet (Name)!” he smiled, sparkles floating around him.

You squinted your eyes at his suspiciously. Even though you had a secret infatuation with the boy, you knew how he would, well, treat Akane. Teru leaned forward, whispering into your ear.

“You have to listen to one command from me, no matter what it is.” His breath tickled your ear and you were sure you were going to combust.

“If you’re fine with that, come see me after school, (Name).”

The sly mf already knew you were going to say yes. This boy knows how to work his magic to get you to come to him. Not just he means any harm, he’s just itching to spend some alone time with you (even if he appears to be neutral on the surface.) So he’s not surprised when you’re there waiting for him, hands on your hips, cheeks slightly flushed. (All according to plan!)

“I agree to your condition, Teru! But it better not be anything weird!”

He just smiles at you but inside he’s giddy with joy. Some alone time? With you? The most beautiful person he knows, loves, and adores? HELL YES! He doesn’t miss the opportunity to invite you to his house, despite the amount of paperwork he has left to do. (He’ll just dump it on Akane.) When you two arrive at his house, you’re probably marveling at how big it is and he’s just smiling at you all happy because he’s so glad he just snatched you up for some alone time. When Kou and Tiara saw you they got all excited because they love you too!! The two youngest siblings were giving each other looks because the only time their big brother brings anyone home is when he really likes them so they’re like ;) you go get them, tiger!!

Of course, y’all actually have to study, unfortunately. Teru has everything organized already (he prepared just for you!) You would start with the easiest stuff first because he didn’t want you to get overwhelmed too early on. Sometimes it’s hard for both of you to focus. When you’re trying to figure out a question, Teru points and shows you how to do it and his fingers brush ever so gently against yours. Both of you are flustered, but neither of you pull away, because, well, both of you like the feeling. Teru tends to stare at you a lot, whether it’s intentional or not, you don’t know. You are just chewing your pencil, glaring at the question while Teru just stares at you patiently with literal sparkles around him, and when you looked up you are blinded by how precious he looks. Similarly, whenever you get a question right, you always send Teru a closed eye smile, one hand against your cheek and the other making a peace sign. Cue Teru trying not to blush. He just wants to hold your hand and squeeze it every time you got something right and to maybe give you some cheek and forehead kisses every time you did something adorable (which is like 24/7 according to Teru’s logic.) It is actually quite a productive studying session, much to your delight, and Teru is also satisfied because he got to spend time with his beloved and also him you!

Much like a few days ago, you busted open the door to the student council, hopping in while you waved your hands around delightedly. You squealed with glee at the sight of Teru, rushing over to him with a piece of paper in your hand.

“Teru, Teru! Look!” you giggled as shoved the slip of paper that had the grades for your final exams.

“I actually did good!” you twirled around, humming, slightly hoping Teru would praise you.

Teru smiled at you, his face going soft at your adorableness. “I told you that you were going to do fine. You didn’t even need my help.”

“Hey! That’s not true! Without you, I would have failed! So I guess I’m in your debt now!” you grinned, shyly scratching your cheek.

“Of course you are, (Name). Don’t you remember the condition?”

“The condition? What- oh.. that conditon..” your face fell as a nervous grin replaced your previous one. “W-well, Teru, it was nice seeing you but I think I have to go now!” you started backing up towards the door but it was pushed in and your back hit the wall. When did that happen? There was no time to think or escape as Teru was quicker than your tiny little legs.

A hand gently hit the wall next to your face, as you nearly jumped at the sound as you glanced at it. When you glanced back to speak up, Teru’s face was already alarmingly close to yours. His beautiful blue eyes stared at you, and you could see his features close up. He was handsome already… but damn, you could feel your whole body heating up.

“You know, (Name), it’s not good to go back on your word.”

You couldn’t conjure any words to respond. 

“You don’t have to worry though. My request is a very simple one.”

You merely nodded as you averted eye contact, you could barely even stand as your legs turned to jelly.

“Close your eyes for me, (Name).”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his particularly strange request but did as he asked, squeezing your eyes shut as you swallowed in anticipation of something bad to happen.

A hand caressed your cheek, causing you to stiffen in surprise. A finger traced your lips and lifted your chin up. Then another pair of lips brushed against yours, and then smashed onto yours leaving you in complete and utter shock. Teru’s hand gently combed through your locks, and it all sank in.

Teru was kissing you.

He pulled away almost too fast, his hands leaving your body and returning to his side, leaving you in a flurry of emotions and also wanting more of those sweet, delectable, kisses.

“That wasn’t too bad of a condition, was it, (Name)?” he asked playfully, enjoying the sight of your flustered face and messy hair displayed before him.

There was one thing you knew for sure.

If this was the condition for studying with Teru, you’d be very interested in studying with him a lot more often.

[blossom-hwa]

Dawn - MINHO

LOOK I KNOW I’VE SCREAMED ABOUT THIS FOR LIKE A DAY BUT I’M SO FUCKING EXCITED I CAN’T BELIEVE I WROTE THIS IN LESS THAN TWO DAYS. THANK U ANON WHO ASKED ME TO WRITE THIS YOU PULLED ME OUT OF WRITER’S BLOCK (constellation is giving me ISSUES)

pls don’t let this flop i’ll be v v sad 

Pairing: Minho x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au

Triggers: mild violence (nothing too graphic), death

Word Count: 9.2k

For many, twenty-one signals a new beginning. But for some, it only marks the end of freedom. 

SKZ Masterlist

Twenty-one. Minho hates that number. It signals the beginning of change, the beginning of the end of everything he’s come to know and love.

Twenty-one. How old he will be when he comes of age. How old he will be at his coronation. How old he will be when his parents will expect him to find a partner. A partner who is rich. A partner who has power. A partner who will rule with him until the end of their days.

A partner who will bear them grandchildren.

The door slams behind him and Minho doesn’t even bother to disguise his annoyance as he stalks down the hall, boots clicking loudly against the marble floor. He can almost hear the sighs emanating from his parents behind the wooden doors, but he pushes the thought of that out of his mind.

Twenty-one. For many, it signals something exciting. Coming of age. Becoming an adult. Setting out on a new life with someone they love.

But not for Minho. His coming kingship will only be an extension of all he’s been learning for the past twenty years. His parents have been asking for his input on running the kingdom for the past five. Now, he’ll just be fully taking the reins. Not much new.

Well, he gets a new crown. Minho rolls his eyes at the thought. Another useless and heavy ornament to make his head ache and his scalp itch.

His mother’s previous words echo in his head. “You must choose a partner over the next two weeks. If you do not, we will be forced to.”

“No one’s forcing you to do anything,” Minho grumbles under his breath. He dreads the next two weeks more than anything else in his life. The celebrations for the first week will mark his birthday. The celebrations for the next week will mark his coronation.

The thought makes him sick to his stomach. Not because he doesn’t feel ready to rule, but mostly because he isn’t ready for all of his (limited) freedom to be taken away in such a rush. Already he can feel the seconds ticking away, marking off every moment of his remaining time as a prince.

Minho sighs. His feet have taken him to the ballroom, his favorite place in the palace. He looks up at the doors and sighs again, even more heavily. He still has two weeks, Minho reasons. Might as well have some fun with it.

With that, he disappears through the large gilt doors.

. . .

Twenty-one. You hate that number. It signals the end of your life as you know it.

The literal end.

“Curses,” you mumble, tugging at the gem resting against your throat. It glimmers in the moonlight, a brilliant sparkle against the pure white feathers of your dress.

You wonder for the umpteenth time why your uncle chose you as the successor of the forest instead of his only son. Chan was strong and powerful – much more powerful than you, at any rate. Shouldn’t your uncle have seen beforehand what sort of destruction Chan would cause if he chose you over him?

But you know the answer why. Had your uncle chosen Chan, the demise of the forest would have come much more quickly than it already has. At least the years Chan spent hiding away, learning the dark arts, allowed you to increase your strength and magic. Had Chan been appointed ruler of the forest, he would have destroyed it much more quickly in his quest for power. At least now you can fight back.

Somewhat.

You wonder, also for the umpteenth time, what your uncle would say if he knew how Chan had cursed you.

Ruler by night, swan by day. If the graceful plumage of your dress doesn’t serve as enough of a reminder of your situation, the constant transformations at sunrise and sunset certainly drive you insane. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the awful transition between the two forms.

Well, in two weeks, on your twenty-first birthday, maybe you won’t have to.

Immediately you shake those thoughts away. It’s too terrifying to think of, being forced to spend the rest of your life as a swan.

The only way to avoid the permanent transformation is to break Chan’s curse. The “easiest” way to do that is by killing him. But Chan is careful, very careful. Despite your and your friends’ best efforts, you cannot find a way to corner him.

Your uncle once told you that you were far more powerful than Chan would ever be. He said this just two days after he appointed you his successor, the day after Chan disappeared. Terrified and confused, you’d only watched numbly as he clasped a necklace around your throat.

“This will protect you,” he’d said quietly. “It is imbued with a magic as old as time – Chan will not be able to fully surpass it, ever. However, its magic will expire on your twenty-first birthday. You must find your own power before then.”

“Twenty-one,” you murmur, clutching the gem tight in your fist. “The end of everything and the beginning of nothing.”

You stand up on the soft grass, feathers sweeping gently across your arms. Twenty-one or no, you are still the ruler of the forest, and you have a duty to aid those who live under your protection. Another night of patrol, of helping the wounded, of fighting off the growing threats Chan has been sending into your territory.

Another night gone by before the day you become a bird forever.

. . . . .

Throngs of people crowd the streets and Minho smiles behind his mask of pale green. He’s slipped away from the castle, only letting Changbin, Hyunjin, and Felix know where he’s going. Changbin and Hyunjin are somewhere in the crowd watching over him. Felix stayed in the palace to cover for his absence.

For a few precious hours, Minho has freedom. No one knows him behind his mask. No one knows him behind his forest nymph costume. Clothed in earthy green and brown, he looks like just another reveler in the streets, celebrating the coming birthday of the country’s beloved crown prince.

He used to think the costume concept was stupid. Now, he’s very grateful for the tradition.

The moon rises quickly into the sky as the last rays of the sun fade, and Minho finds himself pushed into a crowd of dancers. As the moon climbs higher into the stars, the cheery dance tunes dissipate, leaving behind cool, calm lyricism to honor the heavens who put the country’s kind rulers upon their thrones.

He dances with person after person, whirling from one hand to another as gasping laughter turns to serene smiles under the blanket of stars overhead. In between songs, he breaks through the dancing throng for a breather.

Then he sees a vision. That is what you must be – no human glows like that under the moon. No human is the vision of ethereal beauty that you are. You only sway slightly to the beat of the song, but even your simple movements are like a ripple of shining silk – graceful, ethereal.

As though in a trance, he finds himself walking towards where you stand on the outskirts of the crowd. You turn around as he steps closer and Minho has to fight for breath.

Even with an ivory mask covering your face, he can tell you’re a true picture of elegance. Your dress is made entirely of pure white feathers, and your mask protrudes slightly at the nose, like a beak. A swan, he thinks dazedly.

Warm, dark eyes stare into his – delicate, pure, but with a hint of fire that only increases his attraction to you.

“May I help you?”

Minho thinks he’s having a heart attack. Only that would explain his inability to breathe or think properly. Your voice only makes you more attractive.

“I apologize if I startled you, my lady.” He bows. “I could not help but notice you had no dance partner and thought that such a beauty should not only sway on the sidelines. I wonder if you would like to dance with me?”

The half-second of waiting is the most excruciating moment of Minho’s life so far. All the breath rushes out of him when you nod your head slightly and take his hand, a smile curving your lips. “I would.”

. . .

When Ryujin and the others encouraged you to go to the celebrations (read: shoved you out of the forest), you didn’t know why. Immediately you’d attempted to slip back between the trees, but Yeji’s and Jeongin’s glares were too scary.

“You’re spending all your time worrying about the curse and the forest,” Lia had explained. “We can patrol for one night. Take some time to relax at the celebrations – we’ll call you back if there is anything urgent.”

You weren’t sure at the time. But right now, clasped in the arms of a man in a green mask, you’re glad you came. You feel calm. Relaxed. His touch somehow soothes your skin and clears away the worries in your mind, leaving you with a smile on your face that is far easier and lighter than the ones you’ve been forcing recently.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met. Having known Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung, and Kim Seungmin, most men you know have a lot of competition. However, even though most of his face is hidden behind his mask, you can tell your dancing partner can rival them all.

He’s ethereal. Graceful. He whirls you around in twists and turns and leaves you breathless with the utter elegance with which he moves. You haven’t danced this way in a long time, not since your uncle died. The last time you danced was on his birthday. Two days before Chan killed him.

You shove those thoughts away.

As the moon travels the night sky, you lose yourself in the dance again, in the warm brown eyes of your partner and the dizzying press of his hands against yours. Small talk and quiet laughter contrast with the raucous crowd, but you don’t care. For now, the world only consists of your partner and you.

Too soon, though, someone calls “Prince Minho!” and your partner’s expression deflates, his warm eyes dimming. “I must go now,” he says, holding your hands tightly. “You know my name now, but may I have one from you?”

“Y/N,” you reply, smiling sadly. You will likely never see the prince – Minho – again. Both because of your situation and his status.

“Will I see you again?” he asks, eyes sparkling with hope.

It breaks your heart to do it, but you shake your head. “Probably not,” you murmur. “I am not from here, and I must return to my home as soon as I can.”

There’s a little silence.

“May I at least see your face, then?” Minho finally asks. “I would like to remember the woman who so enchanted me tonight.”

You smile, bringing your hands to your mask. “If you will let me see yours.”

It seems to take an eternity for Minho to bring down his mask, but there isn’t enough time in the world to drink in the sight of his face. He’s beautiful – cat-like eyes, pink lips, a graceful nose. His features are even more enhanced by your knowledge of his ringing laugh and gentle character.

“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined,” you whisper. A hand goes up to caress his cheek.

“I could say the same for you, my lady,” Minho says, raising a hand to cover the one you’ve placed on his face. He brings it down, holding your fingers tightly in his grasp. “If on the off chance I see you again, I hope you will remember me.” He presses a kiss to your knuckles.

You smile. “I could never forget.”

Someone calls Minho’s name again and he enters the crowd, giving you one last wave. You wave back and watch until he fully disappears into the throng.

If only you had time. If only you weren’t cursed. If only you could tell Minho yes, you would definitely see him again.

“If only,” you whisper, absently touching the place on your knuckles where his lips brushed your skin. “If only.”

. . . . .

“Has he been like this all day?” Felix asks in a stage whisper. He puts on an innocent expression when Minho turns around to shoot him an annoyed look, but it’s clear he meant for Minho to hear.

“Obviously.” Hyunjin leans against the wall, flipping through a book. “Want to know why?”

“Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to the all the stars –”

“He met a girl,” Changbin jeers, fake-swooning even as Minho throws a pen at him. He effortlessly dodges anyway, as would be expected of the head of the prince’s guard.

Memories of your gentle touch, your delicate face, and the spark of burning fire in your deep eyes flood Minho’s mind and not for the first time since your parting, Minho aches to see you again. But your voice and the despondent look on your face told him that such a meeting probably won’t happen again.

Still, though, Minho is glad he met you. Because if only for a few hours, at least, he felt completely relaxed. Free. And maybe in love.

If you’d seen her, you might understand, Changbin.

Felix gasps, as per his duties as the melodramatic younger brother. “A girl?”

Minho refuses to answer.

“But isn’t that a good thing?” Felix’s eyebrows furrow and he drops onto the seat next to Minho. “You know who you want to marry now! More or less, anyway? So Mother can stop beating you up over finding a wife?”

A deep sigh leaves Minho’s lips. That’s what he would have hoped too. But given your response from last night, he doesn’t think that will happen at all. “She lives far away from here,” he mumbles. “Said she probably couldn’t see me again. Plus, I have no idea of her social status. Mother might not even approve.”

“Maybe we can find her,” Hyunjin volunteers, closing the book. “What was her name?”

“Y/N. But don’t try to find her,” he says. “I don’t think she would take very kindly to that. We may or may not meet again. Neither of us knows.”

Silence.

“But even if you meet again, it might be too late.” Felix’s voice is unusually somber. Changbin and Hyunjin shoot him warning looks, but Minho’s far from blowing up. What Felix said is very true. He might very well have a wife picked by his parents’ hands by the time he sees you next. Assuming he ever sees you again.

Changbin’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle. “I think we need a break,” he says brusquely. “Your lessons are finished and everyone’s preparing for the celebrations tomorrow, so I don’t think we’ll be missed if we go on a hunt.” He grins.

“A hunt?” Minho echoes.

“Yes.”

“The ambassador gifted you a new bow yesterday, right? Why not try it out?” Felix’s eyes sparkle with excitement.

A small smile spreads on Minho’s face. “Why not?”

. . .

The sun has begun to sink in the sky as you circle over the lake, your maidens following behind. Soon, you’ll be human again, but you need to land before that happens so you don’t go crash-landing onto the ground.

You’ve just begun your descent onto the silvery water when Lia’s voice crashes into your mind.

Y/N, watch out!

You jerk upwards, looking behind you. Terror races through your veins when you see the huge hawk tearing through the trees.

Chan hasn’t appeared so blatantly like this in years, not since the day he cursed you into your current form. But the bird is unmistakably him – you can see it in the hatred in the hawk’s eyes.

What is he doing here? He knows he can’t kill you just yet – the magic on your uncle’s necklace will have to wear off first – so why is he here already?

Your wings flap faster and you shoot forward, spurred on by the raw terror you feel for your cousin. If there was once any affection between you two, it is now long gone.

Run, Y/N. His cruel voice echoes through your mind. Or should I say fly? That’s all you can do, isn’t it? Hide from danger instead of facing it like a true ruler?

You close your mind, the one thing you’ve learned to do perfectly since Chan left. When he first disappeared, his voice used to torment you for hours on end until your uncle taught you to shut him out. Your thoughts become blissfully empty for a moment until terror takes over again.

Greenery flashes beneath you as you soar through the trees, weaving between trunks and ducking under branches. You hear noises that suggest your maidens are attempting to help, but Chan has his own followers to fight them off.

The sun is just beginning to fade over the horizon. Heartened by the sight, you curve your path, attempting to make it back to the lake where you can defend yourself on solid ground. Your human form can do nothing in the air.

With a crow of joy, you dive down to the lake, heart beating wildly in relief as you paddle to the edge of the water. The sun finally sinks beneath the horizon, and you endure the agony of the transformation back to a human.

You hear Jisung screeching and Lia yelling. The voices of your other friends sound from various parts of the forest. You turn around to greet them but stop short when you see the man standing in front of you.

By all the stars, how could this happen?

“Minho?”

. . .

Everything happened way too quickly for Minho to process. All he knows is that he was aiming with his arrow, planning to strike down one of the birds in flight – preferably the swan, because what a prize that would have been for the castle – but he lowered his weapons, mesmerized by the bird’s grace even in the face of danger.

It reminded him of you. Pure, perfect, delicate, yet still a fighter. Fighting to survive. He couldn’t kill it.

And then the bird turned out to be you.

For now, he stands dumbstruck, staring at your perfect face.

I just watched a swan turn into a human.

Maybe if he blinks really hard, this will just be a hallucination. Maybe he fell off his horse while hunting and got knocked out and now he’s dreaming.

He blinks once, then twice. There is no doubt that it’s you. Your dress is the same. Your necklace is the same. Your warm eyes, wide with shock, are the same. So is your face.

Not a dream.

I just watched a swan turn into the girl I might have fallen in love with and it’s not a dream.

A shudder of terror and relief runs down Minho’s spine. He’s suddenly very, very glad that he did not release the arrow.

“Minho?” you whisper again, stepping slightly closer. “How… how did you get here? How did you get into the forest?”

Minho swallows hard. “I… just rode in? On my horse?”

“That shouldn’t have been possible,” you murmur, more to yourself than him. “Who…?”

Then the hawk lands and for the second time in less than five minutes, a bird transforms into a person. Minho thinks he might just faint right then and there.

This person has blond curls and skin as pale as the moon. Handsome, yes, but with a dangerously evil glint in his eye that sends fear spiking into Minho’s heart.

Your eyes turn dark. “You let him in.”

The newcomer raises his arms in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture, smiling coldly. “I might not be able to kill you yet, but a human with human weapons certainly can. I just thought it was a golden opportunity when I saw him on his horse.” His smile turns into a snarl. “But again, I overestimated how useful humans can be. Should’ve used the earthen elves.” The dark eyes lock onto Minho’s, rendering him frozen. “You were supposed to shoot her, you know.”

“Good thing I didn’t,” Minho snaps.

The cold laugh that echoes through the forest sends chills up his spine. “An amusing human. Too bad that you must die.”

“Enough.” You step in front of Minho and he’s a little ashamed to admit his relief, though it quickly turns to worry for your safety. “You brought him in here, Chan, didn’t you? So let him go. He has nothing to do with this anymore.”

“But why?” The man – Chan – cocks an eyebrow. “He knows about us now. He saw you and I transform. Shouldn’t you want him dead as well?”

“Is killing your only solution to everything?” The calmness of your voice astounds Minho, but the whiteness of your clenched knuckles gives your tension away.

“Oh, I don’t enjoy killing, cousin.” Chan smirks. “I only do it when necessary.”

And without warning, he raises an arm and a bolt of light shoots straight at Minho’s chest.

. . .

You never knew you could move so fast. All you knew in the moment was that Minho couldn’t die, not at the hands of your evil cousin.

Chan’s bolt of light strikes your shimmering shield with a crash that reverberates through the trees and sends ripples across the lake. For a terrifying second, the shield almost splits under the pressure of Chan’s power. But the knowledge that Minho will die if you don’t fight steels your mind and the shield shimmers brighter, stronger.

With a shout that’s more akin to a roar, you send the ball of light flying back at Chan. The momentary pride you feel at deflecting his attack fades quickly when you realize how drained you are. Chan, on the other hand, doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat.

Not fair.

“You’ve improved, I’ll give you that.” Chan smiles coldly. “We’ll see if it’s enough by next week.”

Your nails dig into your palm. “Get out of my forest.”

“It won’t be yours much longer, dear cousin. I’ll be back.” He disappears into a swirl of black.

“I don’t doubt it,” you mutter.

“Um, Y/N?” Minho’s confused voice breaks into your thoughts. “I’m sorry, but… what just happened?”

Right. Now you need to explain.

“Walk with me.” You give him an apologetic glance. “I’ll explain everything as I make my rounds.”

You thank all the heavens for Minho’s silence as you explain the situation. How your uncle chose you to rule instead of his son, Chan. How Chan came back and cursed you into your swan form but your uncle’s magic protected you enough to keep you from permanently transforming until your twenty-first birthday, which is less than two weeks away.

“You should not be here,” you say bluntly, eyes roving the trees for anything out of the ordinary. “The forest is only visible to those who live in it, unless someone shows you the way in.”

Minho nods. “That makes sense. I thought it was strange that I’d never seen this part of the forest before. Did Chan…?”

Your lips curl. “I suppose. He probably lured you here too.”

It’s a quiet night. When you and Minho fall silent, it’s as though the entire forest is waiting for one of you to speak.

“I almost released the arrow,” Minho says quietly. It takes you a moment to hear him, then another to comprehend his words. And when you realize what he means, all you can really say is “oh.”

Silence again.

“Why didn’t you?” you finally ask.

Minho shrugs. His eyes bore into yours. “The swan… as I watched you flying, it reminded me of you. Of our dance. I felt I couldn’t kill such grace.”

You feel your cheeks heat up slightly. “I see.”

“This curse…” Minho trails off, then takes your hand. “Is there any way I can help?”

If only.

“I wish you could.” You smile gently, trying to hide your own pain. “I’m afraid this is a battle between just Chan and I.”

One that he’ll probably win.

“Do you know how to defeat him? Any idea?” Minho presses.

You snort a little. “I somehow have to unlock my power. Once I find it, I should be able to overpower Chan. My uncle once told me I would be more powerful than Chan someday, but I can’t see how that could be true.”

The two of you fall silent again. Then Minho takes both of your hands in his.

“Y/N.” He forces you to look at him. “You have a reservoir of strength in you that I believe is only untapped. Once you realize your power, I have no doubt that you will be able to defeat your cousin.”

“I have less than two weeks, Minho.” You smile sadly.

Somehow, the two of you have made it through the forest and are back at the lake. Moonlight shimmers in the smooth surface and reflects onto Minho’s face, illuminating it in the night. He looks ethereal under the moon’s pale rays and your heart skips a beat.

“Don’t lose hope.” Minho smiles. “I believe in you.”

His words touch you in a way that nearly brings tears to your eyes. “Thank you,” you murmur.

“I should go now. My friends are probably worried.” Minho adjusts the bow on his shoulder. “Will… will I see you again?”

You want to say yes. You really, really want to say yes, but that could just put Minho in more harm’s way. But he already knows about the forest, and you don’t trust yourself to do a memory wipe on him.

There is a way to keep him safe.

“Yes, but wait a moment.” You remove your hand from his. “Don’t move.”

Breathing deeply, you muster your powers until the growing warmth in your heart manifests into a small, pulsating ball of magic in your hand. With a soft breath, you blow the magic onto Minho, watching as the sparkles settle and disappear into his skin.

“This will protect you from my cousin,” you tell him. “I may not be able to fight directly, but I am quite good at defensive magic. He won’t be able to easily curse you. But you must be careful not to let anyone know where you’re going and trust no one. Chan has many spies, both human and nonhuman.”

“Thank you,” Minho breathes. He reaches forward and squeezes your hand.

Bravery rushes through your veins and you kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. For choosing not to shoot. For wanting to help.”

Minho looks slightly red under the moonlight, though he has enough sauciness left in him to press a kiss to your hand. “I will see you soon.”

The memory of his lips stays with you long after he’s disappeared.

. . . . .

Chan remains suspiciously quiet for the next few days, allowing Minho to come and go quietly. Every time you ask him if anything happened, he’s happy – but also worried – to shake his head and reassure you that he’s been fine.

The nights spent walking with you on the soft grass become the times when Minho feels the most at home in a way he could never feel in the palace. Surrounded by nature and greenery with the occasional burst of sparkling magic, a certain warmth fills Minho that he could never find in the cold, marble walls of the palace. Despite the terror he felt that first day in the forest, he finds himself grimly thanking Chan for the opportunity to come here.

For the opportunity to see you again.

Typically, Minho isn’t one to believe in romantic ideas like love at first sight. That’s more of Hyunjin’s job – whenever the guard isn’t on duty, anyone can find him in the library, reading yet another romance novel. Once, Minho took a peek at the pages. He almost threw up right then and there, and he’d teased Hyunjin for an entire week afterwards.

If Hyunjin knew what was happening right now – well, if any of his friends knew, really – they would be teasing him to no tomorrow. But Minho doesn’t care anymore. The feelings in his chest might have scared him at first, but after a week of coming to the forest, he’s ready to embrace them.

First love. Minho is sure this is what it is. He thinks about you at all times of the day, hoping that your swan form is safe from predators, praying that Chan doesn’t find some way to defeat you just yet. He lives for the times he gets to see you, glowing under the moonlit sky.

On the night of his birthday, he sneaks away from the palace and dances with you under a canopy of trees and stars, the still waters of the lake shimmering in the distance.

“I love you, Y/N,” Minho confesses that night just before he has to leave. “I know it’s only been a week, but I swear by the stars, I love you.”

Though a smile settles on your face, your eyes turn sad. You drop your gaze to his hand linked with yours. “I love you too, Minho.” You swallow hard and look up. “I really do.”

Neither of you say the words bouncing through your minds, but they hang in the air anyway, creating a thick blanket of tension that threatens to suffocate the two of you.

Minho ignores it. “Will you come to the palace next week?” he asks. His heart swells with hope. “It would be an honor to dance with you the night before my coronation.”

At that, you hang your head. “I cannot promise, Minho.”

It’s what he expected. His coronation is your birthday, and you need to break your curse before then. There was little chance, if any, that you could come. Even so, Minho feels a bit dejected. “I understand,” he forces out.

“I’m sorry.” You squeeze his hand. “If I could…”

“I know.” He presses a kiss on your cheek. “But just in case, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“On the day of, I will send a message to you.” You smile shakily. “You will know if I’m coming or not on the day.”

“So last minute,” Minho teases. “But no matter. I will wait.”

“We don’t think Chan will come into the open until that day, but all the same, I think you should avoid the forest for the next week,” you caution. “He’s been suspiciously quiet, which only means he’s planning something. I don’t want you to get caught in it.”

Minho furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t like it – he understands the risk, but he wants to be at your side in case you’re in danger. There is little doubt in his mind that you can hold your own, at least for a while, but he wants to be there for you.

“Do you have a plan?” he asks.

You frown slightly. “He can’t hurt me until my birthday. He’s sure to remain in hiding until the day before, then strike at midnight. I will just have to be ready then.”

Minho frowns. He hates that plan. There’s so many variables and so little certainty of anything.

“I know you don’t like it.” You smile sadly. “I don’t either. I want to see you for the rest of my days. But it would kill me if you were hurt, so for my sake, please don’t come.”

“Not even tomorrow?”

“Don’t pout at me.” You reach over and straighten his lips into a line. “That’s better. And no, not even tomorrow.”

Minho attempts to smile. “If I can’t see you until my coronation, may I request one thing from you?”

“Within reason.” A bit of sparkle comes back into your eyes and Minho drinks in the sight, knowing he won’t be able to see it for at least another week.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes.

Breathlessly, he waits for your tiny nod of approval, then leans forward to slot his lips against yours. And in that kiss, he pours all of the emotions he feels for you that he could never put into words.

You sigh slightly against his lips and pull him closer. Minho feels heady with bliss at the pressure of your lips on his, the touch of your hands on his face. He holds your waist, rubbing soft circles against the feathers of your dress.

Finally, you break away for air. With pink cheeks and bright eyes, Minho thinks you look more beautiful than you ever have before.

“You should go,” you finally whisper. “It’s nearing dawn.”

Minho sighs. “I’ll wait for your answer on my coronation day. If you come, I might just give you another kiss.” He winks.

Cringing slightly, you turn away. “I guess I’m not going, then,” you mutter.

“Your smile tells me otherwise.” Minho swoops in and plants a last kiss on your cheek, then on your lips. “Good luck, my swan.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called you that. But the name slips from his mouth so easily that he knows, should he ever see you again, that that will be his name for you. His swan.

You reach up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, my prince.”

. . . . .

One day passes without trouble. Then a second. And a third. And a fourth.

By the fifth, you’re a nervous wreck. As a swan, you flutter from tree to tree restlessly, just waiting for trouble in the form of Chan to appear. Tomorrow is the day before your birthday. Chan is sure to strike sometime then.

It’s also the night before Minho’s coronation.

You’ve decided not to go. Chan will follow you anywhere, so better you fight him in the forest than in a ballroom full of humans. Fewer deaths. Fewer casualties.

Though who knows how many of those there will be if Chan wins.

Hopelessness settles in your veins as the sun begins to set. You land on the lake, limbs heavy but head buzzing with adrenaline. Your fellow swan maidens land beside you, all peering nervously into the forest.

I have a bad feeling, Yuna murmurs.

We all do, Ryujin snaps.

You shush them.

Gliding along the lake, you wait for the sun to disappear, for night to take the place of day. So absorbed are you in the rays that you barely hear the slight whizzing of something flying by your beak.

Fly!

Immediately you flap your wings, attempting to lift off from the water. But something strikes your side and immediately you feel woozy. Wings limp, you drop back into the lake with a splash. Next to you, your maidens go limp as well.

Just as you black out, something tugs your unresisting body to shore.

. . .

Minho slips into bed, gazing out of his window at the full moon. He wonders if you’re safe, then remembers you must be. The jewel. Your necklace. You will be okay for now.

He has to believe it.

“Until tomorrow,” he whispers. Tomorrow, he will have word from you. Tomorrow.

He closes his eyes and drifts into a fitful sleep.

. . .

You wake, head throbbing and wrists tied, in a tiny room. Your five maidens lie around you in various states of wakefulness, ranging from mostly still conked out (Lia) to more or less alert (Yeji). All of you are human.

“They shot us with something,” Ryujin groans, uselessly trying to free her wrists.

You nod slowly. “Undoubtedly Chan’s work. He probably hired some of the earthen elves and their poison darts.” Your lips curl into a snarl. “Someone needs to get out of here and find Minho.”

“Right.” Chaeryeong fixes her gaze on you. “Let’s get you out.”

“No.” You shake your head. “Not me.”

Five pairs of eyes stare at you. “Why?” Yuna finally asks.

“I can’t be killed yet.” You grimly indicate the necklace against your throat. “I have one day left. If I go, Chan has no reason to keep the rest of you alive. If I stay, he does.”

“You know we would all die for you.” Yeji’s gaze, uncharacteristically serious, pins you down. The weight of her words settles on your shoulders.

“And I, you. But this isn’t the time for any of us to die.” You spit a piece of hair out of your mouth. “One of you needs to get out and alert Minho.” Your gaze turns to Lia. “You have the best sense of direction and you’re small enough to fit through that window in the corner.”

“Y/N –”

“No questions.” Steely-eyed, you stare each maiden down. “If you argue, I will command you. As your queen.”

That settles it. The four of you struggle to undo the bonds on Lia’s wrists, rubbing a rusty nail against the ropes until she’s free. She quickly tosses the rope out of the window and with a final look in your direction, she jumps out too.

You barely have enough time for a sigh of relief before the door slams open.

. . .

Minho paces his room, already fitted into his suit and crown. There’s no chance he can escape tonight – the suit will immediately give him away.

But tonight, he isn’t supposed to escape. He’s supposed to wait. For you.

The small clock in his room ticks again. He forces himself not to look – he’s been doing that for the past few hours.

You promised to send someone. So why hasn’t anyone come? Are you in trouble? Did Chan appear?

What if you’re dead?

No.

Minho shakes his head firmly. Your necklace will protect you until midnight. Chan couldn’t have killed you yet. Maybe you got sidetracked. It’s entirely possible.

Still, he wishes you would hurry.

. . .

With a final scream, your weak shield shatters. You hang your head, refusing to let Chan see the tears dripping down your cheeks.

It’s humiliating. When you turned to swans at dawn, he threw you all into cages. When you turned human again, he tied you up. You never had much pride to begin with, but it feels like half of anything you had left is gone.

You’ve failed. You can’t even keep up a simple shield to save your friends. With your hands newly tied with ropes imbued with Chan’s spells, you’re helpless against him.

Your cousin only laughs. “Pitiful.” You can hear the sneer in his voice. “I can’t understand why my father ever chose you over me.” He shakes his head, blond curls falling into his eyes. Tiredly, you think what a handsome and good man he could’ve been had he not fallen to the darkness.

“Have you ever heard that those who desire power the most are the ones who deserve it the least?” You blink the last of the tears from your eyes and look up at the person you hate the most in this world.

Chan’s eyes darken into something maniacal, something worse than evil. But despite the fear rushing through your blood, you refuse to look away.

“I deserve the forest far more than you ever did,” he snarls.

You brace yourself for the next hit and pray to the heavens that Lia made it.

. . .

Minho feels his heart dropping to his stomach as he gazes over the crowd. You’re not here. You haven’t sent any messages.

You’ve broken your promise.

Hyunjin side-eyes him. “Looking for someone?” he asks.

There’s no use hiding it. Minho nods.

Then the doors open at the top of the stairs. He looks up.

There, in a dress of pure white feathers, stands you. Your eyes catch his and you send him a shy smile.

Minho’s heart is about to beat out of his chest.

You’re here.

. . .

Lia swoops down into the palace gardens, bypassing the guards and their swords. The sun dips below the trees just as she takes shelter behind a large clump of bushes to transform.

She hopes that the dress her human form gives her is suitable for a ball.

Stealth has never been Lia’s best point, but she somehow manages to enter the palace without anyone seeing her. Once inside, she simply acts slightly wine drunk, allowing a tired guard to escort her into the ballroom.

But her sigh of relief is cut off when she realizes what’s happening at the center of the room.

Y/N?

She shakes her head. It can’t be her. How could Y/N be here, when she’s probably being tortured at this moment at Chan’s hideout?

This must be one of Chan’s tricks.

“Prince!” she screeches, shoving through the throng of people. “Prince! Prince Minho!”

He doesn’t hear her.

“PRINCE!” she screams, pushing the last person out of her way. Finally, he hears her and looks her way.

Lia’s heart drops. Something isn’t right. Minho’s eyes are slightly unfocused, and she’s never seen this dopey look on his face before. Not even after he kissed Y/N.

Enchanted.

“Lia?” Some of the dopiness melts away, replaced with confusion. “Why…?”

“Prince.” She stalks forward. “This is not Y/N. Chan sent this person as a fake. Changed their appearance. Made an illusion. I don’t know. She’s not Y/N because Y/N is being held this very minute in Chan’s hideout and you need to come with me now.”

The dopey, unfocused look comes back to Minho’s eyes. “But Y/N is right here?”

“Yes, I’m right here.” The look that the poser sends Lia is perfectly innocent, perfectly delicate, perfectly calculated.

It has to be an illusion. No human is that perfect. Least of all Y/N.

“Minho, listen to me.” A crowd has formed, but no one’s tried to stop her yet so she plows on. “This is not your real Y/N. Look at her face. Look at her eyes. She may look like Y/N but she’s an illusion. Wake up, Prince!”

The prince looks between Lia and the poser, confusion and doubt flitting over his face. Then someone grabs her arm from behind.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I will take her away,” a guard says over her shoulder. But Lia takes no notice, attention fixated on the dagger at the guard’s side.

She draws the blade with her free arm and the guard shouts, immediately letting her go. Ignoring the cries of fear, she aims.

“Watch, Prince.”

The dagger sails through the air right into the illusion’s chest.

Screams echo throughout the ballroom but no blood flows. The poser’s face registers shock, then blankness as her body dissolves into the air. The dagger clatters to the floor.

All the confusion clears from the prince’s eyes. His skin turns white. “Two horses,” he snaps at a shell-shocked guard. Then he turns to Lia. “Please take me to Y/N. Immediately.”

. . .

The clock in Chan’s room reads a quarter to twelve. At least, that’s what you think it reads. It’s hard to see through the sweat and blood dripping into your eyes.

Fifteen minutes or less. That’s all you have. The hope that Lia will come back starts to fade away.

“Why don’t you just kill me now, cousin?” You spit blood out of your mouth, wishing your friends were still here to bolster your confidence. Chan threw them back into the room after they made too loud a ruckus. But the sounds of them still banging against the door give you a little more strength.

Chan smiles easily, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. It’s almost like you two are children again, sitting across from each other and playing games.

Then another drop of sweat stings in your eye and you get rid of any illusions of childhood.

“Oh, Y/N, you always knew I was bad with human weapons.” He laughs coldly. “And they’re all made of iron, you know? Wouldn’t want to burn myself.”

You spit in his face. “If you can’t kill me from this short range with a human weapon, I don’t know if you’re really strong enough to be a king. And I’m sure you could come up with a spell to protect your precious skin, if you’re as capable and powerful as you say.”

“Yet another reason why you shouldn’t rule,” Chan tuts, carelessly wiping away your bloodied spit. He hooks a hand under your chin, pulling your face closer. He tuts again, mockingly. “You were always the snippier one of us two.”

“Get off me!” You wrench your face away from his grasp. The lingering feeling of his hand on your chin makes your skin crawl.

“As you wish.” He smirks. “But as such, I think I’ll stick with watching you die slowly. It’s what you deserve, isn’t it? A human weapon wouldn’t provide as much pain. And who knows?” His grin grows wider. “Maybe, come dawn, I’ll make swan soup and feed it to the dogs.”

Fury blinds your vision and you open your mouth to scream –

And then the door bursts open.

. . .

The shock that blinds Minho at the sight of your bloodied figure nearly kills him. Literally. Had Lia not pulled him away, the blast of light would have killed him.

“Come to join the party?” Chan asks, looking as unruffled and terrifying as ever. He glances at a clock in the corner. “You have seven minutes left to say goodbye to your precious queen.”

Enraged, Minho draws a dagger from his belt and sends it flying at Chan. He doesn’t even blink an eye – with a flick of his hand, the blade dissolves into the air in front of him.

“I knew there was one of you missing.” Chan casts a disdainful look at Lia. “No matter.” He fixes his gaze on Minho. “So you figured out my little illusion, didn’t you? You should’ve stayed with her. The real thing isn’t as pretty, is she?” He jerks his head at you.

Rage fills Minho’s vision and he nearly leaps at Chan. But your voice cuts in.

“Stop.”

All the attention turns back to you.

You spit blood out of your mouth. “Isn’t your fight with me, Chan?” A ghost of a smile plays on your lips. “Why don’t you release these bonds and have us a fair battle?”

Minho wants to scream for you to shut up.

“A good suggestion, dear Y/N.” Chan pretends to think, then shakes his head. “But I’d prefer to watch you break first.”

“No showing of skill? No proving you are fit to rule?” Your eyes flit to the clock and Minho looks too, against his will.

Two minutes.

Chan grins, but Minho can see the repressed anger in his eyes. “I already know I am fit to rule.”

“Then are you afraid that I will find my strength and kill you first?” You tsk. “Coward.”

“What you call cowardice is what I call a strategy.” The smile turns animalistic as Chan directs it at him. “Say goodbye to your lover, dear cousin.”

A flash of light burns out of Chan’s palm, directed straight at Minho’s chest.

. . .

Chan has never seen anyone move so quickly. Much less if they were bound by magic ropes.

His magic ropes. The ropes imbued with the strength of every creature he’s killed.

And you…

You broke them.

His eyes widen as he takes in your outstretched hands, free of bindings, creating a shield. A shield that glows with more power than he’s ever seen you conjure.

The light fizzles from his palm. And as your darkened, furious eyes lock with Chan’s, he feels an unfamiliar emotion. So unfamiliar that he’s almost forgotten its name.

As the clock behind him chimes the hour, Chan does not gloat. Chan does not laugh.

For the first time in years, Chan feels fear.

. . .

How did I do that?

You stare at your outstretched hands and the shield of light they’ve created. Ragged breaths leave your lips but to your surprise, you don’t feel tired. There is no exhaustion. If anything, you feel exhilarated.

The clock chimes. Midnight.

You lock eyes with your cousin. For once, he seems to have nothing to say.

“Anything to say, Chan?” you snarl. You kick one of the torn ropes at your feet and he flinches. “Anything at all?”

“… How?” he finally whispers.

For a moment, you find yourself wondering the same thing. How could you have done this? How did you break from Chan’s bonds? How did you manage to surpass his power?

Your uncle’s words echo through your mind.

“You have an ability that Chan does not. For this reason, you are more powerful than Chan will ever be. But you must unlock that power yourself.”

And suddenly, you understand. You understand how you moved so quickly that first day you protected Minho. You understand how you withstood Chan’s torture for so long while waiting for Lia. You understand the magic your uncle left in the gem that rests against your throat.

You understand the magic that led you to break Chan’s bonds and protect the people you love the most in the world.

“My uncle – your father – once told me I had an ability you do not. And because of that, he told me I had more power than you would ever have.” Your words are slow, calculated, but for once, there is no race against time. There are five hours until dawn – plenty of time before your final transformation.

And with a little luck, that transformation will never happen.

“That day, he gave me this necklace to protect me.” You grasp the gem around your neck. “He told me it had a magic in it as old as time, and that you would never be able to overcome it before my twenty-first birthday. So I suppose it no longer works.” Slowly, you unclasp the chain from your neck, clutching the gem in your hand. “But I don’t suppose I need it anymore.”

No one speaks.

“How, you ask?” You step forward, and for once, Chan steps back. “I’ve found my power. It is a power far older, far stronger than your dark arts. Would you like to hear about it?”

Chan swallows, attempting a look of defiance. You wish you could tell him how stupid it looks.

“It is a magic as vast as the stars,” you whisper. “It is a magic as old as time. It is the power to feel a heartbeat from across the room. It is the power to speak volumes without a sound, without a word.”

You step forward.

“It is the power to protect.”

Another step.

“It is the power to love.”

As you stare into his eyes, real fear flashes over Chan’s face. But you take no pleasure in it, only feel sorrow that your cousin will never be able to feel as deeply as you.

In a movement as smooth as water, you grasp Chan’s arm with a strength you never thought you had. Your other hand presses against his chest.

“I’m sorry, cousin.”

Your power drives deep into his heart.

. . . . .

Minho’s parents were unsure of the union at first, especially since they found you in the same sorry state that Chan’s torture left you. But Minho had refused to let you return to the forest and practically forced you and your maidens into the castle to help you clean up and heal. Upon your request, he brought Jisung, Jeongin, and Seungmin over as well. Once the tattered dress of feathers was gone, your cuts and scrapes cleaned, and Minho had informed them of your magic and your status as queen, his parents became more receptive.

You sit in the front row at Minho’s coronation, your former swan maidens at your side. Pride fills your heart as you watch the priest crown your love, hand him the royal sword and scepter, and repeat the oath his father took so many years prior.

That day, you don’t dance with him, as per the doctor’s orders. But Minho stays by your side throughout the ensuing ball, only leaving for several ceremonial dances that he pouts the whole way through. But, as you remind him, “there will be many more dances together after we marry.”

And marry you do. All of your forest friends come to the ceremony, watch you walk down the aisle in a white gown devoid of feathers to recite your vows to the king.

(Jisung, Felix, Jeongin, and the girls all openly cry into each other’s arms. Seungmin, Changbin, and Hyunjin refuse to admit their tears but everyone can see through them anyway.)

The kiss that day is like your first, minus the sadness. Your hands cup his face while his rest lightly against your waist. Minho’s lips press against yours with a gentle insistence that you eagerly give in to, his fingers brushing softly against the fabric of your dress.

The festivities last until midnight, when you’re finally allowed to retire to your room in the palace. Minho finds you on the balcony, staring down at the throngs of celebrating citizens.

Weeks ago, you were terrified of turning twenty-one. You were terrified of the inevitable change and the inevitable death sentence that age would bring.

Now, you think that turning twenty-one wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done in your life.

“What are you thinking of, my swan?” Minho presses a kiss against your neck.

You smile. “Just… I don’t know. Turning twenty-one seemed so terrifying a few weeks ago. Now...”

“Ah.” Minho nods. “You know, I dreaded that age too.”

“No kidding.” You raise an eyebrow.

“I was terrified of losing my freedom, of being forced to marry someone I didn’t love and being forced to stay with them for the rest of my life.” Minho squeezes your hand. “But you know, it doesn’t seem too bad now.”

A snort bursts from your lips. “That’s an understatement,” you laugh, turning back to the scene beyond the balcony. There’s a little silence.

“What are you thinking of now?” Minho whispers.

The smile on your face grows wider. “The day we first met.”

“Oh, yes.” Minho turns you around to face him again. “I think I knew then and there that I was going to fall in love with you, you know.”

Shyly, you look down. “I think I knew too.”

He tilts your chin back up and presses a light kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

One hand reaches up to rub the gem resting at your throat. Your uncle’s necklace still sparkles around your neck as a reminder of the duties you still have in the forest, but also as a reminder of the immense power he always knew you had. The power of that single, simple word.

Love.

You smile, dropping the gem to rest your arms around Minho’s neck. He smiles down at you with passion in his eyes and happiness on his lips.

“I love you too.”

[lasquadrasfuckhouse]

I SEE U AND U SUPPORT UR HORNY HOURS U GO WRECK THEIR ASSES HUN

-✨ anon

THANK U SPARKLE ANON MY BELOVED I KNO U ALWAYS HAVE MY BACK 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️💕💕💕💕