#anyway i feel particularly insane about this song AND these scenes <3 it's been keeping me up since i watched it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainguk · 3 years

Text

perfect pitch | ksj

⁕ summary; your stand partner this year is, to put it simply, insufferable. with a rare sense of perfect pitch and a stunning face to boot, this boy's ego is absolutely off the charts... but you'd be lying if you said you didn't care about him anyway.

⁕ pairing; seokjin x reader

⁕ rating; pg-13

⁕ words; 3.9k

⁕ genre; crack, fluff - stand partners idiots to lovers (with a lil bit of enemies in there), high school au, orchestra au

⁕ warnings; swearing, threats but like nothing violent happens LOL, seokjin's sense of humor: there's like one mildly inappropriate joke (i'm sorry bach), super cliche rain scene i apologize

⁕ notes; this is based off of infuriatingly true events in my life because people with perfect pitch just LOVE flexing it like i'll drop my fork on the table and my friend's just like "oh wow that was a B flat" aaaaggghjsdjsdf anyways... i had a lot of fun writing this and i'm nearing the end of another longer fic i'm writing so please look forward to that :D hope you enjoy!!! + if you ever want me to tag you in my fics just let me know and i will <3 plus this is unedited and disgustingly cringy as it nears the end so read at your own risk

⁕ tags; @imdamconfused @sunghoonight-x @iminchaosnow

⁕ song; butter (bts)

masterlist

You’re teetering dangerously on the edge, a mere few seconds away from stabbing your stand partner in the eye with whatever you can use as a weapon.

“Hey, are you okay?” Seokjin cuts into your murderous thoughts, alarmed. “You look… truth be told, Y/N, you look like you want to kill someone.”

“If you don’t shut up about how flat my A is, that someone might just end up being you.”

“How romantic.”

Your bow slides off your violin with a cadence of squeaky notes. “Can you at least stop flirting with me while I’m trying to tune this thing?!”

He smiles, a bright, brilliant thing that shows off all his perfect teeth. You swallow, heart suddenly racing a thousand times faster; it’s no secret that Kim Seokjin is probably the biggest pain in the neck you’ve ever met, but it’s also true that he is insanely good-looking. And you’re not about to deny it.

“You like it, though.”

Well, shit.

“Not everyone’s head over heels in love with you,” you retort, trying desperately to throw him off your trail. You know what happens with popular kids like him; once it’s known that you have a soft spot for them, everyone pounces on you, bombarding you with questions and snide remarks and rumors.

Of course, it’s complicated — because how on earth could you want to rip off someone’s head and kiss them at the same time?

But you tell yourself that it’s only because he looks like that; not because he easily gets you to laugh like it’s nobody’s business, and certainly not because he looks out for you in the littlest ways; leaving his rosin out on the stand for you to use and lending you a pencil when you need one.

Kim Seokjin is an insufferable little shit, yes. But he’s a friendly insufferable little shit. And you would honestly be so down to hang out with him and get to know him better, save for one little thing that’s been getting in your way.

His perfect fucking pitch.

Being stand partners with someone naturally gifted with such a sense is both a blessing and a curse. Countless times, Seokjin has saved your ass from being questioned by Mrs. Choi by letting you know silently that you’re a little too sharp, or playing in the wrong key entirely. (That last one has happened before.) Sometimes you can’t hear Namjoon, the principal violinist, too well from where you’re seated, so you’ve relied on Seokjin on many occasions to tune your strings correctly.

However, it irks you equally as much when he uses it against you, stopping you mid-piece to let you know that your C# sounds more like a D to him. No one’s perfect, and certainly not you — but you try, and to be shot down every single time by someone who thinks it’s absolutely funny to watch you repeatedly attempt to fix your pitch issues is purely exhausting.

“Hey, Y/N—”

“What?” you demand, sighing as you turn to him.

“Wanna hear a joke?”

“No—”

“Why did Bach have twenty children?”

Your eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god—”

He continues anyway, ignoring your plea with that mischievous grin, “Because he had no organ stops!”

Seokjin is trying his best not to laugh at his own joke, shoulders shaking at the punch line. You can’t help it yourself, a giggle bursting out of your own chest as you cover your mouth.

“That was horrendous,” you tell him once you catch your breath again. “Absolutely terrible.”

“Oh, worry not,” he proclaims, smiling widely, “I can do far better.”

“Wait, no—”

“What tone does a piano falling down a mineshaft make?”

You furrow your brows, thinking. “I don’t know,” you shake your head after a few seconds. “What is it?”

“A flat minor.”

Your jaw drops open as you process it, and Seokjin just watches you in amusement. “You should be banned from making these kinds of jokes,” you tell him. “Seriously.”

“Admit it, I’m hilarious,” he counters. “I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

He did, you’ve got to acknowledge. He always does, in some way, now that you think about it. Whenever you end up coming to rehearsal in a bad mood, it’s always because of Seokjin that you leave the auditorium with a smile on your face.

The realization startles you like nothing else — you hadn’t known before that he played such a role in your daily life.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” he starts again, “We have a concert tonight.”

“Yeah…” You turn to him, eyebrow raised. “You forgot about the biggest performance of the year?”

Seokjin nods, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “Yeah. My bad. You’re coming, right?”

“Duh,” you reply, fishing a block of rosin out of your case. “It’s almost half of my grade; no way I can skip. Besides, I like performing.”

“You do?”

“What are you so surprised for?” you ask him playfully. “I do enjoy it. I might not be good — not as good as you — but I like it. I like playing together with everyone, being able to hear every other part fit in with mine perfectly.” You frown. “Now if you asked me to play solo, I wouldn’t do it for anything in the world. Ensemble performances are far better.”

“You’re good,” Seokjin says quietly, looking at you — it’s like he’s taking you in, letting his eyes linger on you for a little while longer. “Don’t think that you’re not. You sound nice, Y/N.”

You hold his gaze for several breathless seconds before scoffing, turning away. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!”

“I don’t need empty compliments fr—”

Your bickering is cut short by Mrs. Choi walking onstage, a stack of sheet music in her hand which is promptly handed to Namjoon for him to distribute to the entire orchestra. You don’t offer your usual smile when he gives you two, and it’s with an impassive expression that you hand the extra to your stand partner.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Maybe you’ve made it more awkward between you two — but what else could have happened? Had you been hoping he’d magically fall in love with you and kiss you and you would have gone on dates?

No, of course not. This is Kim Seokjin you’re talking about; and besides, no matter how much you manage to soften up to him one moment, he’ll immediately make you want to murder him the next.

“Hey, Y/N… um — your D is just, you know, a little bit sharp—”

“Kim Seokjin, I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You, my dear, are just overcomplicating this for yourself,” Taehyung declares after listening to you rant about your problematic stand partner over lunch. “What’s the issue? You like him — don’t you shake your head at me, Y/N, you’re as obvious as an open book — and he clearly likes you. Why don’t you just date him?”

“It’s not that simple,” you grumble, brutally stabbing another piece of chicken. “I can’t just walk up to him and ask him out, Tae. Plus, he doesn’t like me, he just likes flirting with everyone he lays his eyes on.”

“From what you’re telling me, it sure does sound like it.”

“Taehyung…”

“Come on, you can’t possibly be that clueless, Y/N.”

“No,” you insist. “He’s a pain in the ass, and he enjoys getting a rise out of me, and he flexes that dumb pitch power of his whenever he can.”

“But you like him...”

“You’re not helping!”

This is where Jimin decides to intervene, tired of your back and forth arguing. “She has a point, Tae. But,” he says to you. “He’s also right. You need to take some kind of action.”

“Yeah, but what?”

Taehyung claps his hands, a telltale sign of a new idea. “Flirt back!”

“Okay, absolutely not—”

Jimin grabs you suddenly, shaking your shoulders. “Wait, think about it!” he exclaims, eyes wide. “It can work! That way you can see if he actually does like you, and you won’t publicly embarrass yourself by confessing to him, either!”

“On second thought, I’d have preferred to see the public embarrassment—”

“Shut up, Tae, you’re just making her feel worse!”

That makes you laugh; contrary to Jimin’s statement, your best friends certainly have succeeded in making you feel just a little bit better.

“Don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual,” you tease. “Maybe I owe him a dose, actually, because I’ve seen firsthand a particularly painful confession back in n—”

“Y/N! Don’t you dare bring that up!”

Amidst the chaos of Taehyung screeching while trying to attack you with a spoon and Jimin holding him back, someone taps on your shoulder lightly; a momentary distraction from this madness, if you will.

“Oh. You,” you respond when greeted with the gently smiling face of Kim Seokjin. “Did you need anything?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, instead showing you his closed fist. “Wanted to give you something.”

“If it’s another one of my strings that you’ve borrowed and also broken, then you can keep it, thanks.”

Seokjin shakes his head, chuckling. “Not that, Y/N. I always throw out the strings I break; don’t worry. I just thought you should have this.”

With that, he places a small wooden box on your lunch bag — at a closer look, you realize it’s a block of rosin. Brand new, too, by the looks of it — when you take off the bright blue lid, there are no scratches on the surface, no sign of wear and tear.

“For me?” You look at him, surprised to be met with a rather fond gaze you’re not used to. “Why?”

“Noticed the one you had was basically falling apart,” he says nonchalantly, attempting to mask the slight tremble in his voice and the blush on his cheeks. “I mean, come on — how are you gonna keep your bow in good shape with those tiny chunks of this stuff?”

“Oh,” is all you can reply, staring at the gleaming black cube in your hand. “I — thanks, I guess.”

“No problem.” He’s back to his bright, grinning self again, all self-confidence and smug smiles. “See you tomorrow,” he tells you, before waving to your friends. “Have a nice lunch, guys.”

It takes Jimin and Taehyung precisely fourteen seconds after Seokjin leaves for his own table to lose their shit.

“Was he looking out for you?”

“Did he actually just give you a new block of rosin?!”

“And you still don’t wanna date this guy?”

“You guys are violinists! Gifting each other supplies is basically your love language!”

You fidget with the rosin, smoothing your thumb over the lid. “No, that’s just how he is,” you defend. “He always lends me rosin when I need it.”

“And you always lend him extra strings,” Taehyung says, a teasing smile on his face. They’re kind of right, you realize when you think about it. Never has Seokjin actually given you a block to keep, and though you might be overestimating the significance of the gesture, it makes your heart flutter nonetheless.

“Okay, anyways,” Jimin changes the topic, “How are we feeling about tonight’s concert?”

“I think we’re in good shape,” you tell him. “We’ve got everything under control — Mrs. Choi was afraid the cellos would screw up their solo section, but they managed to pull it together today and they sounded great.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” Taehyung sighs. “Not when the tenors keep screwing up their long note—”

“That wasn’t me! That was Jeon Jungkook!”

“Yeah, sure—”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Come on, we are not arguing about this right now. I’m sure you guys will sound fine, you always do. Plus, Jeon has a really sweet voice.”

“I guess so,” Taehyung shrugs. “But I think the highlight of tonight is going to be Y/N getting to see her guy all dressed up,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No!” You exclaim a little too quickly, cheeks red. “Why would you say something like that?!”

“Because you’re whipped for him—”

“I am most certainly not—”

Jimin laughs out loud, almost toppling off of his chair. “You know, Y/N, we might have believed you if you weren’t redder than a fucking tomato right now—”

“PARK JIMIN! NOT YOU TOO!”

As luck would have it, you’re a solid ten minutes late.

Call time was at six o’clock, and here you are; slamming the car door shut as you wave a hasty goodbye to your father and run to the main entrance, all the while trying not to get drenched in the rain.

(Your folder and the music inside it are probably already soaked, but that’s an issue for another time.)

You hurry down the stairs, pushing the double doors open with a quick apology to Mrs. Choi, who gives you a stern look but says nothing else. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you slide into your seat, already unlatching your case.

“You’re late.”

You twist your neck to give your stand partner a blank stare. “I’m aware.”

“You look really nice,” he blurts out next, blinking faster than usual.

“Thanks?” You try and laugh it off, fastening your shoulder rest to the back of your violin. You’re not wearing anything fancy, just a flowy black dress with your hair tied back, but his remark renders you speechless for a split second “So do you.”

You manage to compliment him nonchalantly, but your heart is beating twice as fast, eyes admiring his parted, fluffy hair, the white dress shirt impeccable on his figure. And his lips…

Shit. You really are down bad, but you don’t have time to dwell on it — Mrs. Choi is starting the last piece already, and you’re scrambling to have your instrument ready by the time the first violins start with their little intro.

Seokjin laughs at you quietly, but inhales sharply when you start to rosin your bow hair. “You kept it,” he says softly, nodding at the block in your hands.

“Yeah,” you swallow, suddenly self-conscious. “I did.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

“I’m not that ungrateful,” you wrinkle your nose at him. “Of course I kept it, Seokjin.”

“Jin.”

“Huh?”

“Jin,” he repeats, flicking a strand of chestnut hair away from his eyes. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“Since when am I your friend?”

“Would you rather not be?”

“Would you rather be?”

Seokjin — Jin, rather — frowns down at you. “Stop asking questions to my questions!”

“You did it first!” you exclaim, laughing. “Hypocrite! Answer mine, then!”

He looks at you for a long moment, like he’s taking his sweet time choosing the right words to say to you. “Since now,” he decides finally, firmly. “You are now. I want you to be mine. My friend,” he clarifies, turning deep red as he says it.

“I thought you hated me,” you muse. “And I was pretty sure you thought I was the lamest kid ever because I couldn’t play a single thing right.”

“Of course not,” Jin shakes his head vehemently. “You’re cool, Y/N. A little tone deaf, but cool.”

“Take that back!”

“I’m sorry, it’s the truth,” he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners.

You send him your best glare, but contrary to your facial expression, it’s nice to laugh with him like this. You’ve been so caught up with telling yourself that you shouldn’t be feeling anything but annoyance when you’re around him that you ignored your blossoming feelings, and now they’ve fully bloomed, leaving no room for that initial irritation you so often experienced.

Friends. It’s not what you most want, but it’s something. You could get used to that.

The concert goes smoothly, and the choir performances were absolutely delightful to watch — but your father is late, again, which means you’re stuck waiting for him out in the rain that hasn’t let up for hours.

You’re about to call him for the fifth time in ten minutes when you hear a set of heavy footsteps behind you, running up the stairway. “Y/N!”

“Jin?” you ask, surprised by the boy making his way toward you, brown hair completely soaked. “What are you doing out here?”

“I lied,” he says breathlessly, like he’s in a rush, and if he doesn’t tell you now, he might never be able to. “I’m sorry, I — I lied, Y/N. I don’t want you to be my friend — God, I don’t think I could live with that. I want you to be more.”

“Jin—”

“I just,” he exhales forcefully, “I want to be able to take you out and hold your hand and hug you and kiss you—”

When your mind finally clears up, you don’t let him finish his sentence, instead grabbing his collar and yanking him down so you can press your lips to his in one swift motion. A quiet gasp leaves his mouth, but he quickly adjusts to the situation, hands dropping his violin so he can gently cradle your face, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. It’s all happening so fast that you barely even have time to think, to properly take it all in.

His lips are cold due to the nasty weather, and you’re both sopping wet — and this is most definitely the worst setting for this to have happened, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That,” Jin breathes when you finally let him go, pupils dilated, “that was—”

“My first,” you finish. Your prior courage all gone, you’re a bit nervous now, too embarrassed by your bold move to even meet his eyes. What were you thinking? “I-I’m sorry...”

“Sorry?” Jin asks, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“You know, because… of that.” You can barely speak up, cheeks burning. “I-I don’t know why I did that. Is this — is this a prank or something? Did you plan this? Was I just supposed to laugh it off and threaten to take your eye out with my bow instead?”

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, laughing. “Can’t you tell, Y/N?” He lowers his voice to a gentle whisper. “I like you, you idiot. Ever since you waltzed into the auditorium sophomore year and nearly broke your violin falling down the stairs, I never stopped thinking about you.”

“You… you like me?” you ask incredulously, jabbing an accusatory finger at his chest. “Like, for real? You’re not just pulling my leg like you usually love to do?”

“I meant what I said, Y/N,” he tells you softly, fingers intertwined with yours. His voice is genuine, soothing. “I want to do all those things with you, if you’ll let me.”

It takes you a while to reply, but when you do, your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest that you can barely hear yourself. “A-And if I said yes?”

A wide grin breaks out onto Jin’s face as he pulls you into a hug, both your instruments forgotten on the pavement and your head resting on his chest as he holds you close. A few days ago, you would have thought yourself a fool for even thinking that a day like this would ever come; yet here you are, all those daydreams come true.

It’s all so new to you, and you’ll most likely screw up along the way — multiple times. But hand in hand with Jin and his vexing ability to pick out a B from a B flat, things aren’t looking so bad.

You’ll work it out.

Hanging out with your friends is always a chaotic (but fun) occurrence — but when you add your boyfriend’s buddies into the mix, it all goes down to shit.

Actually, it’s all his fault, if you really think about it. Why on earth did he think challenging Taehyung to a baking competition was even remotely close to being a good idea?

“That’s so not fucking fair!” the aforementioned best friend cries, angrily shaking a spatula at a playfully grinning Jung Hoseok. “You can’t just hide the bag of flour! I fucking forgot to put it in!”

“Nothing we can do about it now, Tae,” Jimin sighs, massaging his forehead as the three of you stare at the burnt, soupy mass your team has created. “We fucking lost, that’s it.”

“So,” Jin smirks mischievously, nudging your elbow. “I guess Hoseok and I win this one, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you shove him back, though you’re grinning; a plate with a slice of his impeccably made cake in your hands and a fork lifted to your lips. “You’re good at this and you know it. I knew from the start that you were just trying to fuck around with Tae.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Your evil, demonic, deceptive, satanic boyfriend—”

“Nice vocabulary,” Hoseok comments without looking up, and you’re sure he’s on your best friend’s hit list at this point.

“Well — anyways, he’s out to get me,” Taehyung continues, frowning. “I feel attacked.”

“Yeah, okay, keep saying that several years from now when you’re sitting in a church and Y/N’s walking down the aisle,” Jimin says nonchalantly, causing you to choke on your cake in complete shock.

“What the heck — we’re literally eighteen! You can’t — you can’t just say things like that!” you exclaim indignantly, fork clattering against your empty plate. Jin grins widely all of a sudden, tapping your shoulder all of a sudden.

“Jagi.”

“Hmm?” You turn to him, momentarily forgetting how flustered Jimin’s comment made you feel.

“That was a really nice C# just now…”

Your mouth drops open as you gape at your boyfriend; part of you wants to cry and part of you wants to laugh. You knew when you agreed to make it official that somewhere along the line, you’d have to deal with these kinds of things, but now that it’s actually happening…

You turn to Jimin, patience already running thin from Jin’s antics (actually, you secretly love it, though you’ll never admit it to his face.)

“And you have the audacity to suggest that I’ll actually get married to this man?”

“Y/N? Honey, wake up. I… I just realized something.”

“Oh — Jin? What is it? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good. You know, I was thinking about it, and I realized that...” Your husband bites down on his lip hesitantly, glancing down at the baby sleeping peacefully in his arms.

“Yeah?” you press, curious.

“When Aera cries — you know, when she’s screaming at the top of her lungs,” he smiles fondly. “It’s always — she always cries in either F# or C#. It’s,” he looks like he’s nearing tears, “the D major key. Y/N, she literally cries in D major. I’m—”

You sigh, smiling amusedly to yourself as you snuggle up to him for extra warmth, holding your baby close. Leave it to none other than Kim Seokjin to analyze his daughter’s pitch — isn’t that part of the reason why you fell in love with him, anyway?

Life with Jin is many things — a chaotic mess that includes the constantly screaming light of your lives, three pandemoniac best friends, and far too many notes for you to keep track of. And though sometimes you want to chuck a blue-lidded block of rosin at his head to shut him up, you’re more than ready for it all.

— feedback/questions/just wanna chat?

thank you for reading perfect pitch! ♡

#applejinie #seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin one shot #jin x reader #jin fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts one shot #rainguk #jin high school au #bts high school au #bts orchestra au #violinist!jin

83 notes · View notes

obsessivedilettante · 6 years

Text

Dramaland Forecast: August 2018

Previously: Jan - Feb - Mar - Apr - May - June - July

Completed:

Greasy Melo/Wok of Love -- it was cute and had lots of delicious food and the chemistry between the main trio was Off The Charts, but it was disappointed to see an odd, quirky, bizarre little drama suddenly become a rambling mess of a rom-com. I still enjoyed the drama and it genuinely brought me a lot of joy while I was watching it, but if it weren’t for the insane charisma between Jang Hyuk, Jung Ryeo Won, and Junho, I’m not sure if I would have enjoyed it as much as I did.

To.Jenny -- SO adorable! I loved the indie music vibe (will I ever get “Tiramisu Cake” out of my head before I die?), the sassy little sister, the socially anxious adorkable loser who is able to finally screw up the confidence to show the world who he truly he is, and, of course, Kim Sung Chul, my new noona pet (who I could listen to sing forever and ever and what no I didn’t get lost in a youtube blackhole for hours while tracking down every video of his musical performances, how dare you insinuate such a thing?!?).

Currently Watching:

Life on Mars -- sorta, kinda. I’m halfway through, so I’ve got a backlog that I plan to binge, but it’s the kind of show that requires my full attention and I just haven’t had the time for that yet.

Your House Helper -- I love it so muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch!

Let’s Eat 3 -- this is actually a pleasant surprise! I was planning to watch it anyway because I can’t resist Goo Dae Young and his passionate love of food, but I kinda hated Season 2 and therefore had low expectations for this except to be mildly entertained by my favorite foodie chatterbox. But I love it! It has those Let’s Eat elements that I love (fooooood!) but it also feels like a casual take on a Reply 2004, which is definitely welcome. It’s hilarious and poignant and much better than I could have ever anticipated.

Meteor Garden -- I don’t normally list non-Korean shows here because, well, I just don’t watch as many of them as I used to. But I’ve been willingly sucked into this cracktastic trainwreck and I’ve never been happier. This one has the potential to become my favorite Hanadan version (shhhhh, don’t tell Oguri Shun!). The only catch is there are six(!) new episodes a week so I’m struggling to find the time to watch All The Things since I always end up binging this show instead.

Dropping/Skipping:

Life -- I knooooooooow. But I was one of the few who merely liked Secret Forest, and honestly I’ve got too many other dramas on my plate to add in another that would actually require me to, y’know, pay attention to it. (Plus the PTSD from D-Day makes me instinctively balk at medical dramas about idealistic doctors going against potentially corrupt hospital directors).

Handsome Guy and Jung-eum -- I actually would have finished this if I hadn’t been trying to watch a gazillion other shows all at once. I enjoyed it for what it was, and even though I keep thinking one day I’ll go back and finish it, the reality is that the show is predictable enough that I don’t feel I’m missing anything by stopping ten episodes from the end.

Mr. Sunshine -- I watched the first episode and half of the second, and I was surprised that I liked it more than I thought I would (although I did get an itchy fast-forward finger with the battle scenes, like I did with Goblin). I haven’t actively dropped it but I’m not actively watching it, either. If that makes sense. Honestly, the saving grace for this drama is that it’s on Netflix (which isn’t a phrase I’d ever thought I’d say) because then it’s super easy to access it whenever I want, perfect for those lazy “eh I need something to watch but don’t want to put any effort into it” days.

Upcoming dramas of interest:

Lovely Horribly -- I’m so annoyed, because this stars Song Ji Hyo and has an interesting premise, but it also stars Park Shi Hoo, so, y’know.

Today’s Detective -- Daniel Choooooiiiiiiiiiiii! Who is a detective! That solves crimes with his fearless assistant Park Eun Bin! And there are ghosts! Hells yeah, sign me up!

Voice 2 -- I genuinely enjoyed the first one. It was a chilling thriller with a charismatic cast and it made for an enjoyable (albeit horrifying) watching experience. But... I’m not sure how I feel about a sequel. I do believe that this kind of set-up easily allows for a procedural storyline, and I did regret that some of the minor characters were severely underused in the first season, but can any Big Bad Villain compare to Handsome Oppa and his kettlebells? I’ll probably check it out but I won’t cry if I miss it or decide it’s not worth my time.

Familiar Wife -- it sounds like the kind of standard tvN drama that has a lot of potential and which people will probably love, but there isn’t anything about it that particularly draws me in. I won’t be surprised if it’s a hit, though.

As always, any drama not listed means I have nothing new to add since the last mention and/or it’s not something I care about enough to add to the list.

36 notes · View notes

just-another-winchester · 6 years

Text

A Thousand Reasons

Pairing- Dean x Reader

Warnings- Angst/fluff

Word Count- 3,168

A/N- I honestly loved writing this. I cried... sobbed actually, ended up going to the hospital to be revived. I am super happy with how this turned out. Witten for Beka’s Titles Are Hard challenge. @impala-dreamer. Betad by the ever so lovely Amanda, @amanda-teaches and partially written as she helped me a TON when I was struggling. Thank you both!! I loved this and hope you guys do too!

Summary- Dean and reader have an argument that result in reader leaving. 3 months later reader invites Dean to a concert where she sings a song from their past.

Dean Winchester was a temperamental man to say the least.

The man could break your heart and sew it back together with a few words and a beer. It drove you insane, but to be honest, Dean was your drug and, in this case, you did not mind being a junkie.

You had seen Dean angry, depressed, happy, and so many other emotions. You may as well be his wife at this point.

But you didn’t care, you loved your man, broken pieces and all. As strange as it sounded, that was one of the things that you loved most about him. You loved that he looked to you for love and comfort, that he counted on you.

You felt needed, important; you loved caring for people, and being able to comfort and console. It helped you stay sane, because sure, you were about as fucked up as a rabbit wearing a pantsuit, but hey, your boyfriend wasn’t exactly sane either.

You both acknowledged you were crazy, sometimes you joked about it, other times it made you sad, and then there were the times where Dean went overboard, not even crazy… just, afraid.

“Why Dean!? Why would you do that!?” you demanded angrily.

You, Sam and Dean had just finished a case with a witch, even though you were all tired, you had been letting your anger simmer for more than a day.

Dean turned to you once he got down the stairs, seeing Sam hurry away.

“Why? Because you were going to die, Y/N. What did you expect me to do? Just sit there and let it happen? I had to do something.”

Once the witch you were hunting realized that the three of you were after her, she cast a spell on you, a curse, to slow you down. Quite literally. The curse practically turned on the slow mo inside your body. It slowed down all of your organs, and they just got slower and slower as time went on. Once two hours had passed, you realized your heart was slowing down, almost to a stop.

Well, turns out while you were sleeping, the lads called in Rowena, and found out the spell could be transferred. And that’s exactly what happened, they transferred it…

To Dean.

“You could have died Dean,” you pointed out.

“And you were dying,” he argued, “I’m not having this argument with you, not right now.” He turned to walk away, but you wouldn’t let him.

“Dean, don’t you dare walk away from me. Instead of transferring it to yourself you could have been spending that time actually hunting down the witch! Calling Rowena, I get, but transferring the spell to you just wasted more time.”

“Well, I’m so sorry you don’t like the way I saved your life. You’d had the spell too long, it was about to stop your heart. If it was transferred, it would be just like the curse was recast. I had more time and you and Sam hunted down the witch.”

You shook your head.

“You put yourself in danger, and you transferred the spell without even talking to me Dean.”

“That’s because I knew you wouldn’t agree to it,” he said.

“Exactly, you knew and you decided you wanted to just do whatever the hell you thought was best. So, instead you had a witch screw around with magic, with my body and then nearly killed yourself in the process. You weren’t protecting me Dean, you were hurting me, because then I had to see you that way. I can’t work under pressure like you can.”

“Y/N!” Dean yelled, “I wasn’t willing to risk it, I’m sorry you’re mad at me, okay? But I know what I was doing, and I’m not going to sit around and argue with you about it,” he said.

“You always do this Dean, you play the martyr without thinking about anyone else!”

“Well someone’s gotta.” He responded, holding his arms out like it was obvious.

“Oh right, and it always has to be you?”

“Yes! Because it’s better than watching everyone I care about, suffer! And ya know what, if I had the chance I would do the same thing.”

You bit your lip and looked away from him, holding your hands up in surrender.

“Ya know what… I can’t. I can’t do this Dean, I can’t be with someone who always takes all the weight. This is supposed to be you and me, us… partners. Not just you, I just, I can’t watch you do this to yourself… so I’m done.”

Dean shook his head and turned, just walking away.

At that, you turned around, walking briskly away.

You were left alone as you gathered your things, assuming he probably didn’t think you were serious, but you were definitely serious.

You finally packed up your belongings. You didn’t have a lot in the way of materials, but that didn’t matter so much since, for the most part, you had had Dean. But, now that was over.

You took one last quick look around the room, feeling your heart ache suddenly as you realized you were really leaving. Did you even have the guts to? The idea of walking away broke your heart, but you were so worried all the time, you were afraid you may not have another choice.

You finally left the room, walking through the bunker and into the war room. No one was around. Dean had probably gone off to the kitchen, and you knew Sam was in his room. You walked slowly up the stairs, your eyes scanning over everything, wanting to memorize it all.

Part of you wished that Dean was there, begging you not to go, to stay with him, telling you he was sorry and that he loved you. But the room was empty, and the only noise was the sound of the stairs as you took them one by one, until you were in front of the door, then out the door… then gone.

3 Months later

You didn’t particularly love life on your own. It was just a tad more scary than life with Sam and Dean, but at least with them you knew someone had your back.

You had decided to put away hunting all together. You couldn’t handle it anymore, because it reminded you of Dean, of every kill, every pull of the trigger or swing of the sword, fist knife or anything, and it all left you with was an ache in your heart at the memory of the man you left behind.

A normal life suited you to a degree. You’d started college, decided to get back into playing guitar. You spent a lot of time listening to your music; you enjoyed music, it helped you forget heartache, which was ironic because sometimes it seemed like all the songs were about heartbreak.

You didn’t know why, but you had sent Dean an invitation to an event that was going on in your county. It was a sort of music festival for underappreciated artists to get up and sing covers of their favorite songs or to show off their original work.

You were sure Dean wouldn’t show up, but you couldn’t help but hope.

The song you were going to sing was one he wouldn’t recognize anyway. You knew it was dumb, but it held a special place in your heart. It was the song that was playing in the background of your favorite memory with Dean Winchester. It had been turned down so low that it was almost nothing, but you’d heard it, and it was still your favorite song…

___

Dean, what are we doing out here? I mean, I’m all for romance and moonlight, but I like a little heads up other than you grabbing me and yanking me out to the car,” you said to your boyfriend

Dean didn’t answer, he just smiled. There was a glint in his eyes, something that made you smile along with him and chuckle slightly as he finally pulled the vehicle over onto a nice grassy side of the road.

Dean stopped the car and got out immediately. You frowned and moved to get out with him but, by the time you unbuckled, the door was open and he was standing before you with a smile, holding his hand out to you.

You gave Dean a smirk, unsure of his motives, but at this point you didn’t care as you took his hand and let him help you out of the Impala.

Dean began to lead you through some shrubbery, which was slightly annoying as it pricked at your arms, but it was all worth it when he came to a small clearing.

It was almost nothing, just enough to fit a truck with a little room around it, and that’s what it did.

An old truck was sitting in the middle, two battery operated lanterns rested on the hood. You could see something hanging over the side of the bed of the truck. “Dean?” you asked. “What’s going on?”

Dean, once again, just smirked and pulled you along, leading you to the edge of the open truck bed until you finally saw.

There were blankets strewn all over the bed, and the familiar green cooler rested in one corner.

“Am I forgetting an anniversary or something?” you asked, a wide grin appearing as you studied the scene before you.

You could hear Dean chuckle beside you, shaking his head as he pulled himself into the truck bed.

“Nope,” he answered, reaching down to help you up.

You happily gave him your hands, one foot reached up to stabilize yourself as you felt your body being lifted by your boyfriend.

Dean smiled at you as he urged you to sit down, sitting down himself against the blankets and pillows as he pulled out a couple beers.

Once you were seated and snuggled against his side, Dean pulled out a small radio and turned it onto a music channel. He turned the music down low as his arm wrapped around your body, his hand at your hip to keep you close.

“So what’s all this about?” you asked Dean softly, taking a drink of the beer as Dean looked down at you, a satisfied smile stretched across his lips.

He shrugged slightly, his hand slowly beginning to rub up and down your side.

“Guess you’ll have to find out,” he said, his grin turning into a smirk as you sighed at him, rolling your eyes.

The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes, nothing but the hushed music from the radio and the sounds of crickets chirping in the night.

Finally Dean set his beer aside, standing up before looking down at you, his green eyes glistening as you gave him a look.

“Wassup?” You asked with a slight smirk.

Dean held his hand out to you.

“Dance with me,” he said with a grin. You raised a brow.

“Excuse me?” you questioned.

“The other day you said you always wanted to dance under the stars. I couldn’t think of a way to do it poetically, so I thought I would do it… literally,” he offered, his hand still extended to you.

“Dean, you hate cliche. You realize this is possibly the corniest thing you could do. Serious chick flick moment,” you informed him.

Dean shrugged. “Actually, I don’t like chick flick moments with my brother or in public. With you, alone, it’s just different.”

You smiled as you looked up at him. “So, you don’t mind corn with a side of cheese so long as it’s just me?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Sure, if you wanna put it that way,” he answered.

“And what if I mind it?”

Dean thought for a second. “Then I just wasted an afternoon, and you have to humor me,” he answered, again waving you to take his hand. “Now come on. Are you gonna make me dance alone?”

You looked at him with a laugh at the thought as he gave you a look.

“Don’t make me do the Irish jig, Y/N, you know I will,” he joked, finally just reaching down and taking your hands, pulling you up as you laughed at his comment.

He pulled you up so that the two of you were nose to nose. You could feel his breath on your lips as you looked up at him, a grin bright across your lips as he took only seconds to close the gap between you.

The kiss was soft, his plump lips, slightly chapped, moved against yours as his arms moved around your back to hold you tighter against him.

You smiled against his lips, your heart so full as he kissed you sweetly, a sort of need in his movements. But, it wasn’t sexual, it was just that he needed you, to be close to you, to feel your lips against his. And, you felt the same way.

When he pulled away his lips mimicked yours, turning into a wide grin as he looked down at you.

“I don’t know how to dance,” you informed him.

“Neither do I.” He grinned. “Let’s just sway… that’s dancing right?”

You chuckled, nodding as you stepped up onto his boots.

“Oh yeah, definitely dancing.”

Dean slowly began to move, making his motions small so he didn’t accidentally knock you off and step on your foot.

He gently moved back and forth, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you flush against him, your chin resting on his chest as you looked up at the taller man.

You felt like you could dance for an eternity but, before you knew it, you were both getting tired. Dean didn’t release you, just reached over and shut off the radio as the silence surrounded you.

“I love you,” you said to him. Dean just grinned, dipping his head to meet your lips once more before the night was over.

_____

The memory was a fond one. Despite the way things ended between you, you knew there would always be the good memories.

Now here you were, still holding on to what you had, so much so that you even invited the man here, although now you were wondering if that was such a good idea.

Too late now, because it was your turn to sing. You smiled as you stepped up on stage. The band already had the song prepared, because you had informed them earlier what you wanted to sing.

You stepped up to the mic and looked around the crowd. It was a small community, and you saw the people who you’d become friends with over the past three months. You were excited to be on stage, but as the music began, you felt heartsick.

youtube

I love it when we're at a party in a down-town crowd

Oh but I can hear you call me baby with the music up loud

Red wine, good times, no I don't mind being with everyone else

And then there's night's like tonight that I, I want you to myself

The words reminded you of that night, of Dean. You felt yourself getting lost in the music, each lyric tugging the strings of your heart. You pressed your hand against your heart as you began the chorus.

And tonight I wanna drive so far we'll only find static on the radio

And we can't see those city lights and I love the way you look in a firefly glow

Saying everything without making a sound,

A cricket choir in the background, underneath a harvest moon

Standing on your shoes in my bare feet, dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat

Oh woah, and we're dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat

You smiled at how similar the lyrics were to what happened. Going into the second verse you held back a few tears.

I wanna feel it like a kick drum, beating faster in your chest

I wanna feel you holding onto me and make me hold my breath

You pull me closer, my head on your shoulder, baby we won't beat the song

We'll make a fallen star wish, one more slow kiss, what are we waiting on?

You reached the chorus for the second time, the words moving through you, empowering you as you sang with passion, the mic in one hand and your other hand curled into a fist as you sang. You arrived at the last part of the song, an ache in your heart at the words.

I wanna feel it like a kick drum, beating faster in your chest

And tonight I wanna drive so far we'll only find static on the radio

And we can't see those city lights and I love the way you look in a firefly glow

Saying everything without making a sound,

A river rolling in the background, underneath a harvest moon

Standing on your shoes in my bare feet, dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat

And we're dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat

Once you were finished singing it didn’t take you long to hop off stage. You stepped away from the crowd, needing a moment to yourself as you relaxed.

“Hey,” you heard, causing you to spin around to face Dean, in shock that he was even there.

“Hi,” you said uncomfortably, biting your lip as you felt your heart pick up speed.

“That… that was impressive,” he complimented. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

You smirked slightly, nodding but saying nothing.

You and he both averted your gazes for a moment before meeting eyes again, Dean sucking in a breath to speak and looking down at the ground as he stepped closer.

“Ya know, we uh… we’ve missed you,” he said, his green eyes lifting to study you.

“I’ve missed you too,” you said, causing Dean to smile.

God you’d missed that smile.

“You could come back,” Dean said outright, causing your heart to thump inside your chest as you looked at him. Your eyes met and you reminded yourself you shouldn’t cry, but, oops, you did. A couple of tears slid down your cheeks.

“Dean,” you started, biting your lip. “I have a thousand reasons to stay away.” You watched Dean as his gaze fell and you sighed. “But… I need just one to come back. Dean… please. Give me a reason to come back to you,” you begged him, watching as his green eyes looked at you.

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, sucking in a breath, but letting it out with silence. He took a step closer as your eyes met yet again.

Silent words passed between the two of you, the look in his eyes, the look in yours. The memory of not only that night, but all the good times, and all the bad, fresh in your mind as the two of you shared a moment.

And you knew.

Dream Team

@spn67-sister @queen-of-deans-booty @ria132love @winchestergeekfreak

#dreamers title challenge #dean x reader #supernatural #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #dean winchester #dean fanfiction #dean fic #winchesters #fluff #angst #you x dean #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean fluff

91 notes · View notes

yoinkmyheart · 7 years

Text

hidden identities [iii]

hidden identities: part i // part ii

pairing: peter parker x superhero!f!reader word count: 1.9k warnings: violence, blood mention, prolly swearing let’s be real, sm:h spoiler (that scene under the bridge w childish gambino) summary: reader is one of peter’s best friends and has so far successfully hidden the fact that she’s a butt-kicking superhero by night until she finds herself fighting side-by-side with spider-man and getting a little injured.

dedicated to: a v v kind anon! “Duuuuuuude hidden identities is so good???!???!?!??!!!!! Like phew, they way you write Peter is so in character!!! I’m loving it and I’m so excited for part 3 😄💙💜 “

a/n: honestly, you guys are such kind readers! agh! anyway, here’s part 3. I left it so that I could do a part 4, so message me if you want one! otherwise i’ll probably leave it here folks ;)

You only lived a couple blocks away from Liz, so you decided to walk the quiet roads to get there. Unfortunately, you miscalculated how fast you could walk and therefore how fast you could get there.

So now you were running a little bit later than fashionably late to Liz’s party.

You had your suit tucked away in a small bag. You’d been horrified of the idea of you being unprepared in a event when you were needed and so in the end, decided that you’d bring it along.

It was your last intentions to actually put the suit to use, especially as you’d wanted to enjoy this party. Not just for Peter but for you. You were tired. The clash of school and heroism straight after school finally taking a toll on you.

However, as you rounded the corner, you realized that they—whichever star-lord was out there in the galaxy watching over your fortunes—were not about to give you a break.

You heard a electrifying blast behind you. You whipped your head around to see a puff of blue smoke in the distance and suddenly, you were jumping into a bush and changing out of your jeans and t-shirt.

When you finally emerged, you were none other than your alter-ego: Ghost.

You’d arrived at the scene of the mysterious blue smoke and the journey there, which you ran, was spent invisible. You easily snuck to the under-bridge and were now watching a bunch of men trade and test deadly weapons as if they were toys.

Apart from the three other men, you realized you were by yourself. In any other situation, you’d have found this easy, but whatever weapons those dudes had could harm you really badly.

But you couldn’t just stand there and watch this happen in front of you?!

You kept yourself invisible and started walking as quietly as you could towards the white van. The dude with a weapon attached around his hand was checking out the weapons in the van, looking for something to convince the buyer.

Sneaking closer to the van, you peered in. Then something clicked.

Whoever these guys were, they must’ve been the same people who gave the faux-vengers their weapons of bank/deli destruction.

You were still lost in thought, astonished and marveling at the weapons when you were abruptly ripped back to reality with- yodelling?

Wait. Isn’t that Peter’s ringtone?

“Okay, what the hell was that?” One of the dealers asked, confused. Apparently they hadn’t expected it either. The ringtone whatever was still going when one of the dealers pulled out a gun.

“Did you set us up?” He asked the buyer at gunpoint, who had flung his hands up in defense. You looked between them

Just as you acted on impulse and twisted the man’s arm that held the gun, Spider-man jumped down from (seemingly) no where. Attracting all attention to him.

“Hey, come on, if you’re gonna shoot somethin-” The man fell to the ground, your hand still on his arm, twisting it so he dropped the gun. You kicked the gun away and pushed him down.

At this distraction, the buyer jumped into the car. You turned yourself visible, making the other dealer’s aware of your presence. He looked at you wide-eyed, and now, so did Spidey.

“Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, that was rude,” You smirked at the dealer.

He shook his arm, which powered up the weapon still strapped around it. It glowed a dangerous electric blue, and before you knew it, he was swinging at you.

Spiderman jumped in at the last minute, taking the brunt of the force. With Spidey down, the two dealers looked like they were going to make a run for it. You looked between the van and a hurt Spider-man.

Sorry Spidey.

You turned yourself invisible and jumped into the van unnoticed. The men were looking for you but obviously had different priorities as they started to speed away, the van doors still wide open.

To your surprise, Spider-man had come-to and shot a web out to the van. Dragging him as the van swerved and sped down the empty roads. He smashed into a bunch of bins and you winced.

Oh my god, that has got to hurt.

With Spider-man screaming down the street, you didn’t know what you could do. You were sitting behind the dealer who was blocking the van doors, so all you could do was stare helplessly at the crime-fighter being hauled.

Come on, Y/N! Do something, anything.

“We’ve got to call him” The dealer driving said, which only gained a uninterested, yeah, yeah, from his accomplice. The accomplice hauling one of the guns up, which lit up a bright pink.

You watched as he took aim at Spidey, and just as he pressed the button, you kicked his hand, making him miss and hit some bins on the sidewalk. The man looked around, now aware that you were in here somewhere.

“We’ve got company!” He yelled to the man in the front, who’d already decided to call whoever him was. You were just hoping the call wouldn’t go through.

Looking past the weapon-insane man, you looked out to Spider-man who’d just taken a particularly big hit on a brick mailbox. With his web cut, you watched as you tried to web the end of the van once more, catching the van door which snapped off.

Great. Now you’re stuck in a van. With no back-up hero or sidekick. Full of weapons. Invisible. While a man who knows how to function all-said weapons knows you’re here.

You’re done for.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” The man sing-songed. He was scanning the van with beady eyes, waiting for you to move. You stayed statue still, not giving him the satisfaction of discovering you.

He shook his arm, his weapon powering up.

He’s going to just punch randomly and hope for the best. Oh god.

You breathed in and out. You still had the upper hand. You were invisible. He wouldn’t know if you were going to make a hit. You let a few minutes pass, lulling him into a false sense of security.

With a great pow, you punched him in the face. His head snapping back. You grabbed one of the weapons, and whacked him over the head with it. He fell on his butt, but he swung his arm out, zapping you in the process.

The weapon knocked you back, knocking the air out from you, as you struggled to breathe. At this, you had suddenly turned visible. You had risen into a crouched position and had your back towards the open van’s back.

Even if you turned yourself invisible again, there was no where to run. The man smirked at you, his nose already forming an ugly bruise, his arm-weapon glowing a menacing blue.

So, with no where to run, you did the next best thing. You stepped back out of the van, awaiting the inevitable sting of the pavement only to be suddenly yanked upwards.

You looked up, realizing that Spidey had caught you with his web and was being hulled higher and higher by a dude in a big ass mechanical suit. What the fuck?

The gravity of the situation finally hit you. Gravity. This dude was going to drop you and he was only going higher and higher. Oh my god, you’re going to die.

You started blinking back tears and screams, as you heard Spider-man struggling from above you. His web must’ve been pretty goddamn strong, because you were still holding on.

Apparently, you spoke too soon. You faintly heard beeping from above you before the web snapped, making you plummet faster and faster to the water. You twisted to make your falling at least a little slower.

Suddenly, you felt arms wrap around you. You felt a lot more air resistance, slowing your descent just enough to avoid breaking any bones. At the last second, whoever had their arms around you twisted so they’d be the one to slam into impact.

You shut your eyes, and in a big splash, you were engulfed in darkness and chilling water

Someone dropped you down onto ground and out of the water, you coughed up water from your lungs. You ripped your mask off, in an attempt to stop the suffocating feeling, not caring at all about keeping your identity hidden. Caring a lot more about keeping yourself alive.

You realized that you didn’t get out on your own. Spider-Man, who had also taken off his mask but had his back to you, was crawling out of the water as well and-

Iron Man?!

Iron man nodded in your direction and Spider-Man flipped around, confirming your past suspicions about the superhero. Looking at you, his hair damp with eyes wider than his masks own, was Peter Parker.

“Y/N?!”

Peter was shell-shocked. He had suspected Y/N Y/L/N to be invisible girl, but he couldn’t handle the idea of it, so he had quickly dismissed it before. Once he got over his shock, he ran up to you and trapped you into a bone-crushing hug.

“You could’ve died Y/N! What were you thinking? You’re invisible girl? You’ve been putting yourself in danger!” He said, in rapid fire. He was not holding you by the shoulders and looking at you. You simply replied by hugging him back, nestling your head into his chest.

You could’ve just died.

He hugged you back and you stayed like that for a couple of moments until-

“A-hem”

Forgetting Iron Man’s presence, you split apart and turned towards the floating red suit. You knew that Peter had to talk to him alone, so you turned away and sat on one of the swings on the farther end of the playground.

Surely, it was Mr. Stark who was mentoring Peter. After all, every time Spidey would come up, Peter would be at the “Stark Internship”. You hadn’t realized but you’d started crying.

You nearly just died. So did Peter. If Peter had died saving you, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. Trapping yourself in that van was such a stupid idea. What were you thinking.

You cried into your palms, the cold biting you, and your hair surrounding you. It was then that you heard Mr. Stark softly finish with, “Go take care of your girlfriend,” before blasting off.

“Y/N?” You looked up at Peter with red, tired eyes. Peter’s suit looked completely dry at this point. He pulled you into another hug, suddenly making you feel his warmth.

“You could’ve died. Y/N- I- I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had died,” He played with your hair, and whispered this out softly. You hugged him tighter, scared that you’d lose him.

“I know Pete, I know,” You mumbled.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, his brown ones filled with genuine worry for you. That’s when you noticed he was crying. Even before, when he didn’t know your hidden identity, he’d been scared of your death. But now, now he knew that it was his best friend, you, so close to dying.

He wasn’t just scared of the thought of your death, it broke him apart.

While he was looking down at you, just as you’d noticed his tears, he’d realized he’d loved you. More than Liz. More than saving people. He loved everything about you. He loved how you’d been there for him through everything. He loved how kind and caring you were. He loved your snarky sense of humor. He loved you.

So there, under the light of the moon that night. Two best friends who fell hard for each other, looked into each other’s eyes. Leaning closer and closer to each other, and kissed.

yIkES. idk how to feel about this because i sUCk and kinda rushed this! aNywHOooOo sorry it’s so late omg. it’s not good enough for it to be this late YOKES. thanks for reading! feedback is appreciated & encouraged! x

tags: @holywinchesterness + @lunastarwatcher + @booya–18 + @caitsymichelle13 + @parker—peter + @sylviestars + @captainsherlockwinchester110283 + @rosaetum + @slythergirlimagines + @lionfart + @africanqueen2002 + @5-seconds-of-sarcasmm + @peter-pan-hoe love y’all ♡

327 notes · View notes