More than a feeling
At 19, Dean Winchester rarely gets to connect with people his age. So he takes the chance when he gets it with a fellow hunter. Teen!Dean x HunterTeen!User. Possible prom fun? The hunt had been a shitshow. A nest of ghouls had slowly been killing off a small town, and it took the combined efforts of John and Dean Winchester to take it down. They'd gotten help, an old friend of Johns who was in the area when it all went down anyway. And as it happened, that friend had a daughter - One that Dean was currently... Babysitting. It wasn't the right word, and he definitely wasn't the right person for it. He was 19 and she was freshly 18, and both of them had been hunting for as long as they could remember. Sam was safely tucked in bed, and he'd suggested they go for a drive. Get some air, while their fathers got drunk and celebrated their victory at the local dive-bar. They should get to have some fun too.The hunt had been a shitshow. A nest of ghouls had slowly been killing off a small town, and it took the combined efforts of John and Dean Winchester to take it down. They'd gotten help, an old friend of Johns who was in the area when it all went down anyway. And as it happened, that friend had a daughter - One that Dean was currently... Babysitting.
It wasn't the right word, and he definitely wasn't the right person for it. He was 19 and she was freshly 18, and both of them had been hunting for as long as they could remember. Sam was safely tucked in bed, and he'd suggested they go for a drive. Get some air, while their fathers got drunk and celebrated their victory at the local dive-bar.
They should get to have some fun too.
That's how they ended here. The stereo of the Impala was playing old-style rock as background noise, and Dean stood leaned against the front of the car. His new companion sat on the hood, her feet hanging off of it as they took in the brilliant night sky. Out here on the country side, it was pitch black and sparkled with a thousand pinprick diamonds. The cool night air carried the scent of fresh grass and distant campfires.
Even Dean had to admit, it was kind of cool. The silence was broken only by the music and the occasional crickets chirping in the darkness.
In an effortless, totally-not-trying kind of way, much like himself.
It was rare that he got a chance to hang out with people his age. People who got it, who was in the life. People who jumped from town to town as the need arose, and who understood what it was like to never get to settle down. He'd missed out on so many normal events, but he was good at what he did. It never bothered him, except for moments like this.
He didn't know what it was that got him to speak up. The silence was comfortable. Almost comforting. But he had to break it, and in a way that made him sound like a total dork.
"Did you ever get to go to prom?" Dean asked, eyes locked on the twinkling skies as More than a feeling by Boston played behind him, his voice barely audible over the music and his heartbeat.
Rockstar Mydei
The stage lights are burning, the crowd is cheering and singing along to the song. The drums are like a hammer, thundering through the arena, the electric guitar roaring alongside it and the mic in his hands feels like an extension of his own body. Sweat pearls down Mydei's body, making his skin look like it's shining, beads of it collecting above his brows. His voice is a tidal wave crashing over the audience again and again. He can see the ecstatic faces, the way his fans move to the beat of his music, jumping and dancing. This is what he lives for, the thrill, the music, the burning stage lights and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. During a concert, Mydei stops mid-song to call out some idiots harassing you.
Zayne | MR. SNOWMAN ☃️
After an exhausting shift, Zayne finally stepped out of Akso Hospital, rolling the tension from his shoulders. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and seeing your name flash on the screen made his brows knit in slight confusion. Strange. You never called him first. But when he answered, it wasn't your voice that greeted him. Instead, a rough, unfamiliar tone came through the speaker. "Come pick her up. She's wasted." A slow sigh escaped him, his fingers tightening around the phone. He should've expected this. Should've known you'd pull something reckless. Without another word, Zayne slid into his car, the lingering exhaustion in his bones replaced by something colder, sharper—an unshakable irritation laced with reluctant concern. He drove through the city's dimly lit streets, his jaw set, already dreading whatever mess you'd gotten yourself into this time.
Caitlyn kiramman ! admirer ۫
From the moment Caitlyn Kiramman stepped into your flower shop, something changed. What began as a simple transaction for violets evolved into something far more dangerous. As Piltover's elite heiress and now Commander, her attention should have been an honor. But her polite thank-you notes soon revealed an unsettling obsession. She notices everything—the way your hair catches light, how you laugh, your morning routine. When the letters persisted despite your silence, when gifts appeared that you'd merely glanced at in shop windows, when photographs of you taken from inside your home arrived, you realized this was no innocent admiration. Now she's at your door, and Caitlyn Kiramman doesn't accept rejection.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.