#he almost got killed by a werewolf too.

[sevilynne]

No, they wouldn't.

Would Mstans still like the Marauders if we never met Snape? If he was killed as a student just for simply existing? If James didn’t stop Sirius from luring Snape to Remus? Or would they hate them? Hate them for torturing a little boy who was abused and neglected by his father. Hate them for bullying him just because he existed and was close to a girl James liked. Because he was “weird” because he was “different”? Practically forcing him into a cult to feel wanted… If we only saw Snape as a student before he died like the Mstans want, would they like the Marauders after that?

[solelifauna]

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)

Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.

If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏

The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.

You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.

“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.

“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.

“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.

How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?

You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.

“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.

“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”

“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”

“Im guessing its about–”

“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”

“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.

“Kill me? Eat me?” 

She nodded.

You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”

“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.

“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”

“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”

“I’m aware.”

Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on. 

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.

You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?

“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!

“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.

The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.

“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”

And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.

“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.

“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.

Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.

Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”

Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”

“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”

As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.

When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.

But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.

The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.

“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.

Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.

“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”

Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.

You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.

Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.

The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?

You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless. 

As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline

Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.

“Im gonna kill myself.”

“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.

You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.

“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”

“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.

“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”

Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.

Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.

Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”

“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”

You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.

“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.

Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”

Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”

You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.

Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”

You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”

Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”

The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.

“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.

“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”

You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”

Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.

“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.

“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.

The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.

Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.

“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.

“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.

You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile. 

“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.

“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.

“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.

“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.

As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.

You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.

You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.

As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.

Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”

You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.

“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”

He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”

The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.

Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”

The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.

You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.

Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”

“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.

Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”

The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.

With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.

The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.

“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.

“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.

The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.

You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.

Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.

“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.

“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”

“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”

The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”

You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”

As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.

The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.

As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.

As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.

With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.

“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”

“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.

As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.

You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.

“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.

“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”

Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”

You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”

“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”

The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.

The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.

Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.

Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”

“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.

“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.

“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”

Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”

You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.

The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.

“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”

The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.

“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.

Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.

You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.

“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”

He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.

“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.

“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.

Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”

He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.

“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”

You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.

“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”

You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.

You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.

[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]

[jellymochii]

Stray Kids - A/B/O Headcanons

𓃦 pairings: ot8 wolf hybrid!skz x wolf hybrid!reader

𓃦 genre: Werewolf AU, fluff, angst, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT

𓃦 cw: Smut, unprotected sex(pls no), mating/knots, cunnilingus, p in v, hybrid smut.

𓃦 wc: 2.7k

↪author's note: hello! sorry for the delay, just started nursing school and med math is kicking my ass. anyways next up is sub skz, then dom txt, and then aespa first date fluff! Hope you enjoy!

(Also all of the members are either an Alpha or Beta, you're the only omega.)

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

☾ Bang Chan - Leader/Alpha

Yeah ok this one was kinda obvious.

He's the leader of the pack and the protector of all of you. He'd stop at nothing to keep you and the pack safe.

Thus, you were mated to him first-his soulmate. He knew it the moment he saw you, that you were the omega he was told about all those years ago.

And dear God, he's extremely possessive over you–hence why he had the honor of being the first one to bite you and claim you.

Even though he so graciously shares you with the rest of his beloved pack, he would kill anyone, even a member of his pack, to protect you.

This also ties into his ruts. When he's rutting, no one is allowed within 5 feet of you. He's got you in the safe house, making the others bring food and water often, all while he swells you full of his knot more times than you can count.

While he's normally sweet alpha channie in bed, if he's rutting--lets hope you make it out without a sore and leaking cunt (you won't, sorry.)

You're in your heat at the same time as his rut, though? Oh, it's heaven. He can absolutely keep up with all your pent-up frustration from needing to be filled to the brim with his knot. You’ll get exactly what you need from him!!

“Nngh, baby, Alpha’s gonna knot you full of his pups, kay? Stay still omega, let Daddy fill you.”

Once his rut is over and your cervix is practically overflowing with his cum, he'll always run you a warm bath and tell you what a good omega you are for him��and how you're everything to him.

Outside of the bedroom, he's always attentive too–he seems to be very in tune to your emotions and can often feel them as if they were his own. Almost like the two of you had tied souls.

You're his love and his pride and joy, no matter what.

☾ Lee Know - Second In Command/Alpha

Ok, I know beta Lee Know with alpha tendencies is what we’ve all agreed on, but hear me out–

He’s the 2nd oldest and Bang Chan’s right-hand man–responsible for all kinds of discipline and training when Chan is at work.

This also includes when you decide to defy him or the rest of the pack–Yeah, you're in for it.

Even if he loves you now, it still took him a while to fully accept you as a member of the pack. He was naturally suspicious of you, but once he became more comfortable around you and saw how well you treated the boys–he began to truly love you.

Home cooked meals for you and the boys 24/7. Even if he's sick, he won't let you lay a finger on anything in the kitchen–he thinks that his omega shouldn't ever have to lift a finger.

He often has to isolate himself in the safe house during ruts because of how intense they are for him and how scared he is of hurting you.

Takes items you gift him from your nest with your scent on them and ruts into them, absorbing every drop of your delicious scent coming from them–wishing it was you he was giving his knot to.

If he's not rutting and just feeling a little romantic (or pissed off at you for being bratty), rest assured you're getting several knots out of him.

“Yeah, you want my knot, little omega? Then you better behave if you want it–only good sluts get filled.”

Lots of spanking and doggy style in general, the way you yelp when he tugs your hair from the back drives him mad.

Ugh, and he's always sooooo deep in. You feel like your guts are being rearranged.

He's a sweetie pie afterward, food and water for you right away. Even if sometimes he's cold or standoffish towards you, he'd risk his entire life for you over and over again if it meant staying by your side.

☾ Changbin - Head Beta

Changbin is the muscle of the group in terms of protection and just carrying around heavy stuff for you and the others.

He also is responsible for keeping the other betas in line when an alpha isn't present, he's not strict by any means but has a big sense of responsibility when it comes to protecting you and his pack.

Loves you so so much! He always tries to make you laugh whenever he picks you up bridal style and swings you around like a baby.

Works out diligently around the clock to be strong for you and his pack. Similar to his alpha, Lee Know, won't let you lift a finger and always does the heavy lifting for you.

Thinks it's cute when you go to the gym with him to spot him and gain some muscle of your own (you'll be carrying LOTS of pups in your arms soon!) and somehow scares away every man who tries to approach you.

His ruts are so humbling for him. Before you came into the pack, he was angry and used to throwing things around during his rut because of how bad it was. But now? He’s oh so desperate and pathetically whiny.

“Jagiiii p-please, Binnie needs you–it hurts so bad!”

If you do eventually cave in, he's surprisingly more gentle than the rest of the boys in rut. He knows his cock is so thick that it'll split you open, so every bone in his body tells him to fuck you gently.

Loves showing off his strength by fucking you while holding you, or having you pushed against the wall with your legs wrapped around him so his knot reaches oh so deeper.

Becomes very possessive over you in general while fucking. He'll leave hickies all over your neck, sometimes even next to the other pack member’s bite marks-just to show them who made you feel this good.

You're insanely dizzy afterward from how full you are with his pups and how deep his knot inflated your poor cervix.

Don't worry! Binnie takes the best care of his baby afterward. You're the love of his life, after all.

☾ Hyunjin - Beta

Certified Lover Boyyyyyy

Like Lee Know, he was a little unsure of you joining at first because of how he's been hurt in the past.

Once he opens up to you, he falls head over heels in love with you. Every painting and every song on his guitar suddenly becomes about you, his omega, and his muse.

He likes to take you out into flower fields to have picnics and draw with you. He'll snap unsuspecting photos of you smiling with a flower in your hair so he can paint it later.

You're his whole world. Truthfully, he hates having to share with you with the rest of his pack, but there's not much he can do as a Beta other than steal a blanket from your nest when you're not looking so he can rut into it.

Same for his rut, he'll take all of his paintings of you (some intimate) and a collection or clothes he's taken and absolutely soil them within 1 day.

Thus, he gets scolded and punished by you and the Alpha’s frequently for tampering with your nest–but he can't help it! He needs your scent surrounding him, or he'll go feral.

Sometimes, if he's pre-rut and starting to get overstimulated, he'll sneak into your bedroom and suck on one of your nipples for comfort. You don't mind–and it usually leads to something else anyway.

Practically worships you in bed, especially if you volunteer to help him during his rut--he's so grateful to be in your generous presence. He'll make sure your needs are put before his own, always out of habit.

“Baby–fuck, I love you so much~! I'm gonna give you my agh–knot, all for you.”

His orgasms hit him so hard, especially when you're cumming at the same time as him.

You've never felt more loved in your whole life than when you're with him. You've got him wrapped around your finger 24/7.

☾ Han - Beta

Oh my sweet sungie, he's totally obsessed with his omega.

He's definitely more docile and fragile compared to the rest of his pack, but he's still got some fervor in him when it comes to protecting you.

He’s basically the pack's emotional support. He has his own omega tendencies in a way that his pack clings to him naturally, too.

Was the first one to get attached to you besides Chan. He loved you the moment you walked into the pack house.

Needy asf. Like actually begs for attention 24/7 from you.

He gets HUNGRY when he's rutting, both for his snacks and for you–more specifically, for your pussy.

He could lay there for hours mindlessly eating you out like it's his last meal. He wears the title of Pack Munch with pride.

If he's rutting he goes feral over the scent of your cunt, even from far away. He'll devour you while humping the mattress and blankets below him, and he's cum from it quite a few times.

He's the boy you wanna call if you wanna cum over and over again in your heat on just a tongue. Likewise, his own rut calms down and passes by quicker when he's scarfing your juices down like a dehydrated wild animal.

“Cum for me…pretty please omega? I know you cannn.”

He can definitely use his dick when he needs to, though. His only problem is how violent his orgasms wash over him when his knot is deep in your cunt.

Ughhh, he's so obsessed. Please tell him what a good job he did and how you're his omega forever.

☾ Felix - Beta

Felix is the medical expert of the group. He tends to wounds anyone in the pack receives and gives the best massages.

His love language is touch, so you better expect him sneaking into your nest and nuzzling his nose into your soft skin while he kneads at your thighs.

When he's not busy tending to the other members, he loves to bake alongside Lee Know. If you have a bad sweet tooth, he's the guy to call–for cookies and cuddles.

He likes having you in his lap while he plays video games or watches Disney movies with you (please don't make him sit through Twilight again. He's team Jacob and suffers watching it).

He might be the smallest of the pack, but he's feisty when it comes to you! If another member comes and tries to steal your attention while he's laying beside you, he'll snarl at them (and probably get scolded, but he doesn't really care).

Like Changbin, his ruts are also humbling for him. Poor baby is so whiny and cries at night from the pain of his rut–and not having you there with him in the safe house.

“Baby p-please! I'll be gentle, I promise! I'll take–fuck, anything.”

You feel way too bad about not helping him, so even if you just hold your hand out for him to rut his cock into–that's more than enough for him to spill his seed all over.

Sitting in his lap while he thrusts up into you at an unbearable pace is all you need to have your gummy walls clench around him, causing his knot to inflate deep in your cervix.

He swears he'll pull out because he knows he'll get scolded for it–yet he never does. The feeling of burying his pups deep in you is something no amount of scolding and punishment could ever make him stop.

Loves cuddling in the bathtub with you as a form of aftercare, he'll nuzzle his nose into your neck and pepper kisses over the hickies he left, and treat them the best.

What can I say? He's a sweetheart.

☾ Seungmin - Beta

Seungmin is the cheeky and youngest Beta in the pack, and often the source of many headaches for Chan and the other alphas.

He didn't take too kindly to you when Chan introduced you at first, causing him to snarl at you the first few days when you passed by.

This in turn, led to an argument which caused him to destroy your nest out of anger. He was punished accordingly by the Alpha's and forced to apologize.

He was planning on giving a half-assed apology to you–but when tears started pouring down your cheeks as you cried and asked “Why do you hate me, Seungmin? I love you, and I love this pack.” His heart hurt as he began to reassess his entire world view.

He's never heard anyone say “I love you”, not even his own parents. He couldn't forgive himself for months and spent many hours showering you in gifts and trying to win you back. He even snuck one of his pillows into your nest so you'd associate his scent with safety.

One day, he came home with a puppy plushie Felix said you'd been eyeballing at the mall alongside a bouquet of roses, to which you felt relieved and cried that he finally had accepted you.

“Y/N…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean to you, and I-I love you too.”

He spends his ruts with the stuffed he gave you since it has your scent on it and reminds him of you. Don't worry, he'll stitch it up soon–but for now he has to fuck the hole he tore into it for some form of relief.

If you choose to help him while wearing the collar with “KS” on it that he got for you–oh boy, he's done for.

You'll have knot after knot while he tugs on your collar and humps you from the back.

“Fuck, You're so sexy like that. All this ass for me?”

He still tends to be gentler with you, he's still learning how to love, but he knows no matter what he has so much love for you!

☾ Jeongin - Alpha

Baby Alpha Jeongin on top!!

He still doesn't know how to control his instincts when you first enter the pack, so he has to be kept away from you at first and only be given selective clothing of yours with your scent on it to get used to your scent.

…He likes it way too much. So much so that he'll surround himself in your donated clothes while aggressively rutting into your favorite blue blanket (They're too soiled in cum to be salvaged, sorry.)

This in turn becomes a major problem for him. When he first gets to meet you face to face and gets a whim of your scent, he goes feral and has to be physically held back by Chan and Changbin to prevent him from knotting you.

You, on the other hand, thought it was adorable. So much so that the next time you donated some clothes, you made sure to release your sweet juices all over them before giving it to him–Chan was not enthused but decided to indulge him nonetheless since the poor boy was having a really bad rut.

Oh boy, did it drive him absolutely insane. The whole safe house was torn to shreds in less than 24hrs from how feral he went from the scent of your arousal.

The next time his rut came around the two of you had become well adjusted to each other. He found that he would have to distance himself often to prevent himself from pouncing onto you and taking you right there.

You offer to help him during his next rut and swear up and down to the pack that you'll call for help but it becomes too much, but you don't need help when Jeongin is hitting all of your sweet spots~!

Especially when he's pounding into you at a brutal pace while strangled growls and cries spill from his mouth as he bites down onto your shoulder.

“Nnnngh, I'm gonna cum holy shit~!” or “No-stay fucking still omega, I need to knot.”

He truly feels so loved when he has you under him so submissive like this–he knows deep down he’d do anything for you.

He’s a sweetie pie and deserves the world.

[nightlark100]

Stiles sets up a betting board rather early on, figuring it'll be something that might help the betas bond a bit. It started off with a few silly things but the main category quickly became 'what is going to try and kill us next'. The name was changed after Derek expressed concerns over how cavalier Stiles was about dying and instead became 'what is going to put us in danger next'. The rules were simple:

Each of them contributed to a pool.

Each beta was given the opportunity to change their pick after something tried to kill them or once a month (if things were quiet)

Winner got the contents of the pool

If there was no clear winner or if there was more than one and they didn't want to split it, pack could make an argument for why their pick was the closest.

Scott put down 'Peter betraying the pack'

Peter in retaliation put down 'Argents being Argents'

Both refused to change it.

Stiles put down 'Dereks love life'

Erica put down 'Stiles losing his mind in a haze of caffeine after too many sleepless nights researching'. Boyd silently added his name against that pick as well.

The problem was Stiles seemed to always get it right. No matter what he wrote down each time, it usually happened in some way.

Derek's love life - a barista he'd been tentatively flirting with at the coffee shop turned out to be a succubus

Extreme cold (mocked by the others for being written down in the middle of a heatwave)- an abominable snowman popped up and set off a cold spell that even werewolf heat and Isaac's scarves couldn't ward off

Scott's cooking - After breaking some of Melissa's kitchenware while trying to make a romantic meal for Allison (the exact details of how remain a mystery, although Isaac was involved) and replacing it with a new set from a cute little shop that seemingly popped up out of nowhere, the pack quickly found out that there was a poltergeist attached.

The only time he didn't put anything down, was when he got possessed. And Peter argued that he technically still got it right since the only thing in his section was his name... Which was accurate in its own way (Stiles was not pleased by this logic and refused to talk to anyone for a long time)

He began to get gradually weirder and weirder with his picks, not even really trying to win after a while. He was a little confused and concerned by his strange predictions and hoped that eventually it would get too absurd to possibly come true.

Musical theatre - a siren showed up and almost lured Isaac into the swimming pool with her voice.

Killer Tomatoes - Lydia ended up nearly choking on her salad

Hummus - Jackson managed to ingest poisoned hummus and became practically feral.

Puppies - Stiles woke up one day to a very stressed Derek with an armful of his now tiny canine betas. Stiles didn't mind that one so much.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Face Your Fears

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You get into a fight with your brothers, but your recklessness that follows creates problems for everyone.

“You were hunting before you were my age! I don’t get why—“

“It doesn’t matter if you get it or not! I said no!”

Sam rushed to the library when he heard his siblings’ voices raised in argument.

“What’s going on in here?” He asked, trying to keep a calm and neutral tone.

“She—“ Dean started, but you cut him off.

“Dean is being completely unfair!”

“Ok, ok, calm down,” Sam sighed.

“Calm down?! You two are off all the time, actually helping people, putting your lives on the line, and I’m—“

“Exactly! You don’t need to be putting yourself in danger like that!” Dean interrupted.

“It’s what you do! And I sit here and read books!”

“Don’t downplay what you do,” Sam said. “We need you here.”

“But I could do so much more out there with you!” You argued. “I’ve been training, I know I can help!”

“Yeah, or you’d screw it up and get killed, and I don’t need your blood on my hands!” Dean exploded.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Dean—“ Sam tried to speak up, but you interrupted him.

“So that’s it, really? You think I’m some kind of screw up?” You scoffed, and continued before Dean could speak. “It’s not like you’re perfect! You’ve screwed up the world before, and no one’s stopped you from going out to screw it up again!”

“Y/N—“ again Sam’s attempt to calm the situation was met with resistance.

“Well fine then, if I’m too much of a screw up for you, then I’ll get out of your way!” You shoved past your brothers and beelined for your room, slamming the door behind you.

…

Your brothers didn’t try to go after you. They were probably angry. You knew you went too far with what you said to Dean, but he called you a screw up; were you just supposed to take that and not say anything back?

It didn’t matter either way. You didn’t want them to try to talk to you, because you had something to do.

You had a hunt to go on.

You’d been researching one before you went to ask Dean about joining the next one; since he’d said no, you would take this one whether he liked it or not. And you were going alone.

…

It wasn’t hard to sneak out—back when you lived in motels, it would have been almost impossible to leave without one of your brothers waking up, but with the bunker it was easy.

You didn’t take the Impala—that would be too far, even for this rebellious streak. Instead, you took a cab to the next town over; you had struck gold, finding a hunt so close. It was pretty simple, too; three victims with hearts ripped out, definitely a werewolf. You had more silver bullets than you’d need packed up with a couple of guns in a duffel at your feet.

Dean was wrong about you, you could do this. After all, how hard could one little werewolf be?

…

Dean was right, and you were suffering the consequences of being wrong.

You struggled to pull your phone from your pocket, your fingers fumbling as your phone slipped around in your blood-soaked hands. Your breathing was labored, and every breath brought stabs of pain to your slashed-up abdomen.

You hadn’t noticed the signs of the second werewolf, so determined were you on taking the first one down. You hadn’t even seen him until he’d been right on you, ripping into your stomach. You’d had your gun in your hand, and by some miracle you’d managed to fire off a round into the werewolf on top of you, but not before he’d injured you pretty bad.

You finally got the phone in your hand, and you didn’t hesitate to press Dean’s number. You held the phone just slightly away from your face, wary of irritation the cuts on your cheek.

The phone barely had time to ring before Dean’s voice flooded your senses.

“Where are you?” His voice came out in a growl.

“D-De…” you hadn’t realized you were crying until you had to push your voice out past your tears.

“Sweetheart?” Dean’s anger was gone in a second when he heard your pained voice. “What’s going on?”

“I’m-I’m sorry, De,” you sobbed. “You were right, I’m-I’m sorry.”

“Shh shh, hey,” Dean soothed. “It’s alright sweetheart, I forgive you. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

“I-I turned on my phone’s location,” you said. “Ple-please hurry. It hurts…”

Dean tried to ask you more, but a bang from somewhere nearby had you flinching, and the phone slipped out of your soaked hands and shattered on the concrete floor. You realized it was only your own gun, slipping off the table you’d laid it on. But it was too late; your phone was broken, and you had no way to call Dean back.

You could only hope that the tracker would still work.

…

Dean broke both the law and probably some speed records getting to your location. Sam was in the passenger seat, a first aid kit in his lap as he held on for dear life.

“I should’ve known she’d do something stupid,” Dean grunted.

“Dean, you couldn’t have known,” Sam reasoned. “And blaming yourself isn’t going to help her.”

Dean didn’t speak, and the rest of the ride was tensely silent.

“Here,” Sam said as navigator. “Turn left here, and she should be close by.”

Dean swerved the Impala to the left and screeched to a halt in an empty parking lot near a warehouse. Sam was right at his heels as he burst into the warehouse.

“De?” Your pained voice echoed throughout the building, so that it took Dean a moment to find you. When he did, he swore his heart skipped three beats. You were sitting in a pool of your own blood, propped up against the wall. Dean rushed to you, kneeling next to you and almost slipping in your blood.

“Hey, hey,” his voice was a mixture of soothing and panic as he brushed your blood-stained hair away from your face. “Alright sweetheart, tell Doctor Dean where it hurts.”

It was a pathetic joke, but you laughed anyway; Dean’s jokes always made you laugh.

But your laugh sent you to a fit of coughing. Dean winced as he examined the long gashes on your stomach.

“Ok, you’re ok,” Dean leaned back in relief when he saw that it wasn’t too deep; you’d be ok. “But I’m gonna have to carry you to the car, ok? Brace yourself.”

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, but you still couldn’t hold back the cry of pain when Dean lifted you into his arms.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean cringed. “I’m sorry. You’re gonna be ok.”

Dean laid you on your back in the backseat of the Impala, before taking the first aid kit from Sam and retrieving a needle and thread.

“Can’t we just bandage it up?” You whimpered, already squirming away from the needle. Dean’s finger froze for a second before he shook his head, his features softening. Both brothers were very aware of your fear of needles, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

“Sorry sweetheart, it’s gotta be stitched. Just close your eyes, it’ll feel worse if you watch.”

You closed your eyes, trusting your brother completely. However, before he could make the first stitch, your eyes popped open and you grabbed into his wrist.

“Wait,” you said. “I-I…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Dean sighed. “I’m sorry too. I said some things that…that I didn’t mean. You aren’t a screw up, ok?”

“What do you call this?” You gestured to your own banged up body.

“Inexperience,” Dean answered. “And you never should’ve been out here alone. Going solo on your first hunt is never a good idea.”

“I’m sorry about that, too,” you mumbled.

“It’s ok, kiddo. Maybe later we…we can talk about you tagging along on one of our hunts.”

“Really?” You grinned.

“Later,” Dean said sternly. “After you’re all better. Now let me get to this.”

As Dean lifted the needle, you closed your eyes again. You felt Sam’s large hand grab onto yours, and you squeezed his hand gratefully, holding on as Dean started to stitch you up.

“I didn’t really think you would screw up the hunts,” Dean said as he worked. “I just…I don’t want you out there. It’s dangerous, and I…I’m scared something will happen to you. But I guess I can’t keep you from it if it’s what you really want.”

“It is,” you said. “I want to do what you guys do. I want to help people, and I wanna be with you guys.”

“Ok then,” Dean said, tying off the stitches and patting your side to let you know he was done. You opened your eyes, and he smiled at you.

“I guess I’ll just have to face my fears.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[werecreature-addicted]

Do you mind doing an NSFW alphabet for jock werewolf? :^

Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)

He's bad, if he bit you or hit you too hard he'll clean up any bad injuries but if you're not bleeding, or bruised, he's leaving basically as soon as his knot goes down. if he's had a long game he'll lie down with you for a little while and cuddle for a little bit. he's sweeter when he's tired.

Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

he loves your eyes, he likes how wide they get when you're surprised or how pretty you look when you cry. on him he likes his arms and hands, they're big and veiny, he knows you like how they look and he's more than happy to flex for you, or wrap those big arms around your neck.

Cum (anything to do with cum…basically, I’m a disgusting person)

He either cums inside of you, knotting you and blowing his load deep in you, or he's cumming on your face and hair, the bigger mess he makes the better, he likes humiliating you.

Dirty secret  (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Panty Fetish. He steals your dirty underwear to smell as he jerks off, or cum in your underwear and makes you wear them all day with his wet cum pressing against you all day long, sticky and uncomfortable. Once he stuffed your underwear in your mouth as a makeshift gag and he whispers in your ear asking you if you like tasting yourself while he fucks you.

Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's hot! He's popular! he's got a big dick! he gets around. He's got plenty of experience.

Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggy or collapsed doggy. he likes being in control and shoving your head down as he fucks you from behind and spanks you. Sometimes he gets lazy and makes you ride him but he gets impatient pretty quick and rolls you over so he can fuck you at a faster pace. He also likes fucking you against a wall, holding you up with your legs over his arms while he drops you down on his cock over and over again.

Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He loves to tease you and will laugh if you do anything silly. A little humor doesn't kill the mood for him.

Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Look me in the eye. He's a werewolf. every inch of him is covered in thick dark hair. his "bush" is a full jungle, he's not going to shave and no one on earth can make him. He showers a lot though, so at least all that hair is clean.

Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

 Again, I think we all know my thoughts on how romantic he is. He might make you say "I love you" but that's only to make fun of you. He loves to kiss with tongue so that's kind of romantic, I guess. If you're looking for flowers and candles, he is not your man.

Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off pretty often. He's got a high sex drive and sometimes it's just easier to take care of it himself. He almost always takes a video of him stroking himself to send to you, You can always tell when he's horny and jerking himself off because your phone is blowing up. Not just videos and pictures but texts detailing what he wants to do with your pretty body and begging for pictures or at least a few dirty texts he can use to get off.

Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's a huge Sadist, who loves to degrade, humiliate, and hurt. He doesn't like floggers or whips, he usually only hits you with the palm of his hand.

Marking, obviously, he likes to bite you and leave hickeys. but writing too, he'll write "whore" or "bitch" across your face or chest with makeup or markers. Just to claim you as his a little more

Breeding/ creampies, again werewolf, what do you want from me

Dacraphilia, like I said earlier, he loves to make you cry whether it be from pain or pleasure.

Slight corruption/innocence kink. for him it's not so much about taking your innocence as it is, other people think you're demure and pure while you slut yourself out for him and show him how dirty you really are.

Exobisinism and public sex, tied back to the innocence thing, he likes stopping away your public image as a shy little nerd and revealing how depraved you're willing to be for him. and he knows he's hot, he likes showing off his big cock and how well he can make you cum.

Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The school locker room or the back of his car

Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever he's had a good game or a solid workout when the adrenaline is running high. it also gets him hot seeing you sweating, even if it's just a hot day out. Also, well, he's a werewolf, he does go into Ruts, when he's in heat like that breathing in the wrong way will get him hard.

NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He's pretty open to experiment, but he doesn't like toys. He like deep, raw, primal sex. Not cheap vibrators or fuzzy pink handcuffs. God help you if he catches you with a dildo, what? his cock isn't good enough for you? You need some silicone bullshit? he's going to murder you in the bedroom tonight.

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Receiving. almost exclusively receiving. He loves the way you suck his cock. He will eat you out if you aren't wet enough for his liking, or if he really fucked up and needs to make it up you. Or really, if you're too tempting for him to resist getting a taste of you. So... really it's like 50/50

Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and hard. he's fast, chasing his orgasm eagerly and openly from the second he sinks into you. the only time he really slows down is if he's teasing you and edging you.

Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Loves a quickie. He'll pull you into a semi-private space to fuck you in between classes or when you have a free moment. something fast and rough, just how he likes it.

Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's mostly willing to try anything you're into and he's typically the kind of guy who would try anything once. However, asking is the hardest part. He will never give in right away, instead teasing you and mocking you for wanting to try out something so gross and kinky, even if you're just telling him you have a praise kink. Eventually, though he gives in and starts experimenting with whatever it is you wanted to try. If he's not into it, he'll just tell you it's not his thing, and you're a freak for wanting to try it out. If he likes it, all mockery stops and he just acts like nothing happened as he integrates this new kink into playtime.

Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

 His stamina isn't bad but it's nothing superhuman or anything. With his knot, you sort of have a forced break in between rounds but he can usually go two or three rounds before he gets tired. and he lasts a good while, at least long enough to make you cum. if you want to try out "stamina practice" he'd be down.

Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

like I said toys are not for him. he doesn't like to use them on you or himself really. if you convince him to try bondage he might get some ropes or restraints but that's the closest he gets.

Unfair (How much they like to tease)

:) if you are interested in how much the werewolf jock bully likes to tease please check out other entries in this series. No, but seriously, he lives to mock and deride you. He loves to deny you orgasms and make you beg like a bitch in heat for his fingers or his dick.

Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not loud but he's mouthy. Always muttering something dirty in your ear while he fucks you. He snarls and growls too especially when he's close to cumming.

Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He claims to sleep around a lot and have a bunch of people on his roster but usually, if he finds a good fuck who can tolerate his annoying personality and high sex drive he stays with them for a long time and only sleeps with them. So he might tell you that you're lucky he called you up this time, or that he's busy fucking some other chick. he's lying, he's only sleeping with you right now.

X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Red and veiny with a pointed tip he presses right against your cervix. He's around 10-11.5 inches when he's hard his knot takes up the lower 1/4th of his cock, huge hairy balls that are always full of hot werewolf cum for you to take,

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

very high. he likes to have sex at least once a day but prefers more than that. if he has it his way he'll be fucking you 4 or 5 times a day but you have "responsibilities" or whatever. when he's in heat if he's not dead asleep he's thinking about sex and craving it, even then he might have a wet dream and wake up needy and desperate.

ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

a good orgasm makes him sleepy, especially if he's already tired from something else, but usually he doesn't fall asleep right after sex, especially because he usually likes to fuck in locker rooms and secluded parts of the woods. not ideal napping spots.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

CONGRATS ON HITTING 1K, you deserve all the love you're getting and more <3333 for your celebration could i get a thousand stitches with bill? Your writing of him has been completely brilliant, i love the way you characterise him <333

hi my darling!!! thank you much!! I'm so grateful you're here and I hope you enjoy 🫶

1000 stitches | B.W.

feat. Bill Weasley x reader

cw: MDNI 18+, injuries and blood, near-death experience, early stages of werewolf!Bill , love confessions

1000 things prompt list (closed!) | masterlist

The sun crested the horizon, shades of violet, clementine, and rose, and still, Bill and the others hadn't returned from Hogwarts.

The full moon lingered at the edge of the sky, obstinate in its refusal to dip below the trees. You'd begged Bill not to go out while the moon hung bloated in the sky, an unusual, ominous shade of red.

But he'd gone anyways. Which was fair, you supposed; he wasn't yours to order about. You weren't a couple, despite the simmering tension between you, heightened by the deep connection you’d forged through over a decade of friendship and work and suffering and joy.

You'd loved him all your life, and he wouldn't be Bill Weasley, the man that held your heart hostage, if he didn't plunge headlong into danger, especially where his family was concerned.

Always eager for the hunt.

It was Harry, Lupin, and Tonks that arrived back first, bloodied and beaten, singed by the glancing blow of curses.

Molly ran out to them, screaming for her children, but Remus was quick to assuage her.

“They're right behind us—Molly, you must—Molly listen to me,” Remus snapped, shaking her gently. “Ron and Ginny are fine, but Bill—Greyback got a hold of him.”

You clutched the rusted porch railing of the safe house, limbs going numb as the blood drained from your brain.

“He's alive, but barely,” Remus continued, keeping Molly upright by sheer force of will. “And we don't know if he was—”

“Bitten,” you finished, your voice little more than a whimper. Remus looked up at you, nodding solemnly.

He looked like he was going to say something further, when the others suddenly apparated into the clearing. Ginny ran straight into the house, shouting for the medic assigned to the safe house. Ron and Neville held a body between them, the figure limp as a freshly killed stag and twice as bloody.

Bill.

Your ears began to ring, a monotonous, consuming sound, drowning out all of the shouting. You couldn't breathe.

Was he breathing?

You took a sip of air, lungs burning. You'd breathe for him.

Remus grabbed hold of Molly, keeping her out of the way as they carried Bill into the house. Up the stairs and towards you, five steps away, three, one—Ron caught your eye as they passed, looking for too guilty for a boy of only 18, but he quickly looked away, struggling under the weight of his much larger brother.

More members of the Order ran out to help carry him, relieving the boys of the burden, and you could only stand there, staring down at the twin smears of blood where Bill's feet had dragged across the threshold. Staining the stone forever.

Tonks was speaking to you, her hands on your shoulders, but you couldn't hear her, could only stare at the red, red, so much red. Too much red. How could he have anything left?

“We need more hands!” You heard someone call, the words filtering in through the din in your mind.

Hands, hands. You had hands, you could help.

“Tonks—”

“I don't think that's a good idea—”

“We don't have a choice,” Remus said, gently nudging Tonks aside and cupping your face. You forced your eyes to focus on his forehead, his crooked nose, his scars, his eyes. “Can you do this?” Remus asked.

“I-I can,” you affirmed, your voice sounding far away. Like someone else had spoken through your mouth.

“Good, let's go.”

It took more than five hours to stitch all of Bill's wounds. He'd been savaged, butchered, by Greyback. Almost unrecognizable under the swelling and bruising and gore.

The fact that he survived was nothing short of a miracle.

No one was sure if he'd been bitten. There was one wound on his right thigh that looked suspicious to Remus, but Bill was in too fragile a state for them to test anything.

So you waited, and waited, and waited. Four days of burning fever. Four days of changing head-to-toe bandages. Four days of ladling broth between his chapped lips. Four days of praying to anyone that would listen to spare him. To bring him back to you.

You knew he'd be different, no one suffered an attack like that and remained the same, but you knew that you'd love him anyways. The scars on his skin would pale in comparison to the scars left on his psyche, and you would find whatever strength you needed to help him through it.

You'd stitch him together with your own muscle and bone if you needed to.

On the fifth day, many of his wounds had finally healed down to pearlescent, puffy scars thanks to the medics magic. Deep gauges littered his torso and arms, creating new dips and valleys along the lean muscles of his body, a topographical map you could study for eons. The slashes across his face was healing better than anyone dared hoped, and he finally was beginning to look like Bill again.

But the wound on his thigh remained stubborn, pulpy as rotten fruit and refusing to knit together, growing more putrid the more magic that was thrown at it.

An uneasyness settled over the house. No longer a question of will he wake up, but what will wake up.

On the seventh day, Bill woke up screaming.

You were in the kitchen, helping Neville prepare the evening meal, when a roar shook the cedar bones of the old house.

You dropped the dish in your hands with a crash, roast and root vegetables exploding all over the grubby tile floor, and leapt over it, flying up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Tonks caught you at the end of the hall, grabbing you by the arms. “He's asking for you, but you have to—y/n, listen to me,” she snapped, and you stilled, coiled and ready to flee. “You have to be careful—that mind of trauma…he might not be the Bill you love.”

“I don't care.” You yanked free from her hold and dashed down the hallway. You burst into the room Bill was being kept in, a white-washed guest room on the quieter, darker end of the house, and found Ron, Arthur, and Remus desperately trying to restrain a frantic Bill on the bed.

“Where is she?” He bellowed.

You shoved Ron aside and flung your arms around Bill's neck, throwing your weight on him in the hopes of keeping him down.

“I'm here, I'm right here,” you soothed, not bothering to hold back the tears of relief streaming down your face and into his ruddy hair.

He groaned low in his chest, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and heaving a deep breath. His knotted muscles immediately went lax, and he looped an arm around your waist, hauling you into the bed with him. You were shocked at how much strength he still had after a week of bed rest.

“There you are,” he whispered, a throaty purr against your pulse. He drew another deep inhale, nose pressed against your jugular, and you suppressed a shiver.

“Are you alright? You didn't tear anything open—”

“Don't care,” he said, his lips charting a scalding path up your neck, days of stubble scratching mercilessly against the tender skin.

“Bill,” you argued, a fire sparking in your lower belly. You tried to push back a bit from his hold so you could inspect his bandages, could escape the intoxicating effect of his newfound affection. His grip tightened, bordering on painful, and a rumble resounded from the barrel of his chest. Something carnal, possessive, and you immediately dissolved back into his arms. Helpless to resist him.

“A ripped stitch isn't going to kill me,” he mumbled into the downy space behind your ear, his voice so much softer than whatever beast had been roused moments ago.

“Bill, we really need to do a full examination,” Remus interrupted gently. “What you've gone through—”

“It can wait,” Bill snarled, glaring at Remus over your shoulder. “Now get the fuck out.”

You gasped, shocked by his crude language, the aggressive edge to his voice. Bill was hardly the delicate sort, but you'd never seen him be outright hostile. Especially not towards his friends and family.

“Bill,” Remus said, hardening his voice.

“Please, just let them check you,” you whispered, stroking his cheek. “It'll give me and your family peace of mind.”

His eyes fluttered closed as you soothed him, his breathing leveling out. From bestial to docile in the span of a few heartbeats. “Only if you stay,” he answered finally, opening his eyes to look at you.

“I'm not going anywhere,” you assured, and he finally let you untangle yourself.

The medic came in first, checking all of his stitches and his vitals. Besides the wound on his leg, he was mostly healed, just some soreness and a slightly elevated temperature and heart rate.

His hand only left your body when the doctor needed it for something, otherwise he maintained contact through the entire examination.

You weren't sure what it meant, this sudden clinginess. If it was the trauma of almost dying, a head injury making him forget you weren't actually together, or something…else.

His family came in next, a cacophonous, emotional ordeal that made your heart ache with relief. With them, he seemed more like himself; the good-natured, charismatic man you'd fallen in love with, and some of your uncertainty ebbed.

You hadn't hated the intensity from earlier though, quite the opposite, actually. You just wished you knew what caused it, and why you.

Eventually, Bill declared that he wanted to properly shower, and everyone filed out to give him some privacy. When you stood to leave though, his hand tightened around your wrist.

“Don't go yet,” he said, drawing you back towards him. He was standing, propped against the bedframe for support.

“But you said you wanted to shower?” You blinked up at him, completely perplexed by this dramatic shift in his demeanor. Bill had never been very physical with you, besides platonic hugs and shoulder bumps.

“Help me,” he murmured, tilting your chin up.

Your heart stopped. “W-what?”

“Are you going to make me beg?” His breath fanned across your lips, balmy and disorienting. Headier than any hit you'd taken from a roll or a pipe.

“Bill, we aren't…together,” you argued weakly, a rabbit negotiating the terms of its release from the jaws of a catamount.

“Something I'd like to remedy, if you'll have me.” His other hand ensnared your waist, pulling your body flush to his.

“I'm not sure you're thinking clearly—” you tried to take a step back, but his grip turned to iron.

“Oh, I am. For probably the first fucking time,” he growled, patience wearing thin. “I’ve loved you for ten fucking years, and I almost lost you. So forgive me, darling, I will not be letting you go again.”

You liquified, muscles and bone turning to simpering goo in his arms. You didn't care if it was the pain medicine, or a head injury, or lycanthropy. All you'd ever wanted was to hear those three little words.

“I love you too,” you breathed, and he smiled, bumping his nose against yours before dragging it down your cheek, his hair tickling your lips.

“I know,” he hummed, the hot muscle of his tongue laving over the pulse point beneath your ear. “I can smell it on you.”

You gasped, arousal hitting you like a clap of thunder, your thighs squeezing together against your blooming cunt.

He chuckled, the sound low and viscerally pleased. “Can smell that too, baby. Little heart’s racin’ like a rabbit.”

Oh, fuck. You swallowed thickly, throat closing as fear pumped through your blood, mixing into a strange ichor with the ever-present desire for him.

“You're trembling again,” he said, softening a bit as he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Are you afraid of me?”

You shook your head. “Should I be?”

“No, love. Of course not. I'm still me.” He smoothed the hair from your forehead, palming the side of your skull with his long-fingered hand. “But Remus should be if he tries to get between us again.”

A laugh bubbled up before you could stop it, inundated with both dread and delight.

He leaned down, catching your laughter with a lissome press of his lips. The last of your reservation dissipated, dripping out between your thighs as the kiss deepened. His lips were pillowy, tongue tinged with iron and herbs, you leaned into his embrace, content to let him devour you whole.

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Twenty}

{<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Klaus Mikaelson x Hybrid!Reader} Request {Anon}: kinktober - klaus + inexperience pleeease female she/her reader maybe a new turned hybrid? learning how to control her new instincts? xoxo

♡♡♡ Anonnnnn, I adore this idea, its a crime we never got Klaus in his wolf form... all that work and nonsense to become a hybrid & he only wolfs out once???? ♡♡♡

2.5k words - Kinks: hybrid!reader, wolf!klaus, outdoor sex, inexperience, Klaus being a sweetie && a dead deer...

Autumn leaves crunched under your paws as you ran through the woods, the air crisp and cold against your fur. It was your favorite season, and the freedom you now felt as a hybrid was overwhelming. No longer bound to the moon, your new life was yours to command. The heightened senses of smell and hearing allowed you to fully immerse yourself in the beauty of the forest.

Before, when you were a regular werewolf, the forced shift had been a curse, something you dreaded. Now, as a hybrid, shifting felt natural, like an extension of yourself. You reveled in it, feeling powerful and wild. The air smelled sharper, the colors brighter, and you could hear everything, the wind brushing the trees, distant birds, and Klaus behind you.

The crunch of leaves and his familiar scent made you slow down. You looked over your shoulder and saw him, your sire, your alpha, his white fur gleaming in the sunlight, his golden eyes locked on you. There was something grounding about his presence, a reminder that you were safe, but also a silent challenge. He was always just a step ahead, faster, stronger.

He trotted up to you, his nose brushing yours in an affectionate nuzzle. A small yip escaped you, playfully turning away to bound off again, the thrill of your new instincts too much to contain. Klaus let you run, though you knew he could catch up easily, watching you with that familiar, almost indulgent gleam in his eyes. You felt the wildness in your veins, the world around you sharper, more vivid. It was exhilarating.

When the deer came into view, grazing peacefully, you crouched low, every muscle tensed. The instinct was all-consuming, as natural as breathing. You leapt, taking the animal down with a swift bite. The blood, the raw power, coursed through you, leaving you breathless. Klaus was beside you in an instant, his eyes glowing with approval. The thrill of the hunt still buzzed in your veins, but it was his presence that made it complete.

But when you caught the scent of something far off, you couldn’t resist. Ignoring Klaus's warning growl, you sprinted towards it, the prey, your prey, etched into your senses. You felt his presence behind you, but he was letting you lead, giving you the chase. The thought made you grin inwardly as your heart raced, the thrill building.

After you had your fill, he led you to a nearby stream. You followed, the taste of the kill still sharp in your mouth, but the intensity of it left you almost light-headed. Everything was so new, so heightened. When you reached the water, Klaus shifted back into his human form, standing tall and magnificent as ever.

You followed suit, your body naked and vulnerable, but there was no fear with him. Yet something fluttered in your stomach, something new. The way he looked at you was different now, the weight of his gaze making your skin prickle with heat. He was more than just your sire, more than just your protector. The air between you had always been charged, but now it felt like a live wire.

Klaus jumped into the stream, hissing at the cold, and beckoned for you to join him. You did, the cool water shocking against your heated skin, but it did nothing to quell the fire building inside.

“That was amazing,” you said, your voice breathless, half from the hunt and half from the intense sensation of being near him, the water swirling around you both.

He smiled, that familiar, dangerous smile that always made your heart stutter. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You’re getting stronger every day,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

You met his eyes, your breath catching. “I didn’t realize how powerful I would feel as a hybrid.”

Klaus’s gaze held yours, something dark and possessive flickering behind the blue. “It’s liberating, isn’t it?”

You nodded, moving closer to him without thinking, your heart pounding. The tension between you was almost unbearable now. You had felt it before, simmering in the background, but it was sharper now, impossible to ignore. Since your transition, Klaus had been your guide, your anchor in this new world. But the more time you spent with him, the more you were aware of him and the desire you felt for him.

A part of you was still intimidated by him. Klaus was dangerous, with centuries of experience, confident in ways that left you feeling small and inexperienced. You had never been with anyone before, let alone someone like him. The thought made you hesitate, anxiety swirling beneath the desire that was building between you.

“What’s on your mind, love?” he asked, his voice soft, but commanding, as though he could sense the war inside you.

You swallowed, looking down at the water. “I just... it’s a lot. Everything feels so intense now.”

He reached for your hand beneath the water, his touch gentle but firm. “You’re doing beautifully,” he said, his voice soothing. “I wouldn’t have chosen you if I didn’t believe that.”

His words made your heart race for a different reason, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the chill of the water. You looked up at him, his praise making your insides flutter. Klaus had always been proud of you, but this felt different—more intimate, more personal.

“I’ve never felt like this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “So... free and powerful.”

Klaus’s eyes darkened with something unreadable as he moved a little closer, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek. “It’s a gift, love. One I’m happy to share with you.”

Your breath hitched at the way he said it, his voice dripping with promise. The space between you seemed to vanish, and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though testing the waters. But the second his hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him, everything inside you ignited.

You deepened the kiss, moaning as his tongue swept across your lower lip. The water was cold, but Klaus was warm, his bare skin pressed against yours. His hands were everywhere, sliding up and down your sides, teasing over the curve of your ass, making you arch into him.

He pulled you into his arms and suddenly stood, the water pouring off you both. You clung to him, gasping, and then you were back on the bank, the fallen leaves cool and soft beneath you.

Klaus hovered over you, his eyes dark with desire, but there was something else there, something tender and protective.

"My pretty little wolf," he murmured, his hand cupping your cheek, the touch gentle. "Why are you trembling?"

You were acutely aware of his body, hard and unyielding, pressed against yours, and it made you want him even more. "I'm not scared," you said, your voice a little breathless. "I've just... I've never done this before."

His eyes widened a little, a look of understanding flashing across his face. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, the desire still pulsing through you, a steady drumbeat in your veins. "Please don't."

He leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so tender, so sweet, that it made you melt. You parted your legs, his thigh sliding between them, the pressure sending a bolt of pleasure through you. Klaus growled softly, his hands moving over your body, leaving trails of fire everywhere he touched.

You were shaking, the need for him threatening to overwhelm you, and yet he took his time, as though savoring every inch of your skin.

When he slid his hand between your thighs, finding you wet and ready, his breath hitched.

"Is this okay, love?" he asked, his fingers teasing against your entrance, making you arch and gasp.

You nodded, unable to find the words and he leaned in and kissed you, deep and possessive, as his fingers slid inside you.

The pleasure was sharp and hot, burning through your veins. You clung to him, the intensity of the sensation nearly too much, but his other hand came up to cradle your face, his lips never leaving yours.

"Klaus," you gasped, the sound lost in his kiss.

He smiled against your lips, his voice low and seductive. "I've got you, love. Just relax."

He kissed his way down your neck, his fingers curling inside you, making you moan. The pleasure built and built, until you felt like you were on the edge of a cliff, about to fall.

"That's it, sweetheart. Come for me," he murmured, his thumb rubbing against your clit.

The orgasm crashed over you, and you cried out, arching into him. He kissed you, his touch gentle, easing you through the aftershocks.

"Such a good girl," he said, his voice full of approval.

The praise made more heat pool between your legs, your skin flushed and sensitive. You wanted him so badly, it was almost painful. "Klaus, please..."

He pulled you into his arms, cradling you close. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

You blushed, but the need was overwhelming. "I need you. All of you."

He kissed you, the tenderness gone, replaced by something hot and primal. He positioned your legs on either side of his waist, the tip of his cock teasing against your entrance.

"Tell me if it's too much," he said, his eyes locking with yours.

You nodded, the anticipation and arousal making you dizzy. You felt the veins under your eyes pop out, and the urge to sink your teeth into his neck and drink was almost unbearable. All these new feelings, all the instincts were overwhelming, and yet, when he eased inside you, they seemed to melt away, replaced by an intoxicating bliss.

Klaus' gaze was fixed on your face, entranced by the way your lips parted in pleasure, the way your new vampire nature manifested itself in a beautiful, deadly display. You were the most stunning creature he had ever seen, and the way you looked at him with such trust and adoration was almost enough to make him lose control.

He guided your hips in a slow, deliberate motion, allowing you time to adjust to the feel of him. Your hands gripped his shoulders, anchoring yourself as the intensity of the sensation built. Your breasts pressed against his chest, his cock sliding in and out of you, deeper and deeper.

"Fuck," you breathed, the words falling from your lips without thinking.

He smiled, his eyes darkening with desire. His pretty little wolf was learning new things, and the sight of her was almost too much to bear. "You like that, sweetheart? You like the way I feel inside you?"

You moaned, unable to find the words. The pleasure was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, and you needed more.

"You are a hybrid now, with new vampire powers and sensations," he said, his voice rough and gravelly, sending a thrill through you. "Close your eyes, and feel everything. Allow your new instincts to guide you."

You did as he asked, letting your eyes fall closed, and the world exploded around you. You could hear the wind in the trees, the birds in the distance, the rapid beat of his heart. The heat of his skin against yours, the feel of him moving inside you, all of it was magnified, and yet, there was a strange calm beneath it, an otherworldly peace.

Klaus watched your face, mesmerized by the way your expression shifted, the pleasure and new sensations written clearly on your features. He was overcome with a feeling of pride, and possessiveness. He wanted to consume you, to possess you, to claim you, and make sure everyone knew who you belonged to.

Your eyes snapped open, your gaze locking with his. The intensity of the feeling, the power of your new senses, the pleasure, was too much, and you found yourself wanting to drink from him, to taste him, and connect with him in a way that was beyond human comprehension.

He watched as your fangs extended, the bloodlust written on your face, and he felt a surge of pride. He tilted his head, offering himself to you, and a rush of arousal surged through him as he felt your fangs sink into his skin.

The taste of his blood on your tongue, the way he moved inside you, the scent of him filling your senses, it was too much. The tension inside you snapped, and your orgasm tore through you, taking over every sense.

Klaus' grip on you tightened, and his pace increased, his movements becoming rougher and more erratic. He growled, a deep, primal sound, and you felt him come, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure through you.

Before you could process what had happened, Klaus flipped you onto your back, the leaves crunching beneath you. He kissed his way down your body, his hands gripping your hips, and settled between your legs.

"What are you—"

"Hush, love," he murmured, his lips pressing to the inside of your thigh. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

He kissed and licked and sucked at the sensitive flesh, making you squirm and moan, your fingers tangling in his hair. The air was cold on your heated skin, and the way he was looking at you made your stomach tighten. You were already sensitive from your previous release, and the feeling of his tongue lapping at you was almost too much.

"Klaus..."

"So sweet," he murmured, his tongue dragging through the wetness, making you shudder.

You came undone on his tongue, and when he slid up to kiss you, the taste of yourself on his lips was strangely erotic. You felt spent and relaxed, and the intensity of the moment seemed to settle into a content, quiet bliss.

The sun was setting, and the forest was growing quiet. You could have stayed there forever, wrapped in Klaus's arms, but he kissed you gently and pulled you to your feet.

"We should get back," he said, getting to his feet and offering his hand.

You took it, and he pulled you up, the feel of his skin against yours sending a jolt of electricity through you. He grinned down at your naked body, his eyes dark and full of promise.

"I think we should do this again sometime," he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "It was rather fun, don't you agree?"

You nodded, your face flushed. He gave you a knowing smirk and kissed you, slow and deep, before backing up, his eyes glowing yellow.

"Race you back, love."

You grinned and shifted, leaping into the woods. As the wind ruffled your fur, you felt lighter than air, the thrill of the chase sending a jolt through your veins.

You might not have known everything about this new life, but one thing was certain—you were going to enjoy every second of it.

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[shieldofiron]

Steve is pretty sure it’s a werewolf. It doesn’t really act like a dog and if it’s a wolf there’s something wrong with it.

He doesn’t really know why it keeps coming back at night. Just hangs around the back yard, giving Steve glimpses of pale fur. He starts leaving out plates of cooked chicken that disappear into shreds when he turns his back.

It should scare him more than it does, but at least he has a human type reference for Werewolves. They’re not freaky flower heads from the great beyond. After the upside down it feels downright comforting.

He finally catches a real glimpse when he’s feeling down one night. He got shot down by some chick at work, and then Jonathan had come in to return All the President’s Men, which Steve knows is Nancy’s favorite.

So he’s sitting on the back porch staring at the covered pool, feeling sorry for himself. He didn’t bother changing out of his work clothes, still rocking the family video vest in the chilly October night. There’s a chill in the air that reminds him of the fall, and has him thinking of Billy Hargrove, for some reason. It almost seems unreal that he was gone too.

Then Steve sees it. It’s huge, as big as a bear but sleek, golden silver fur clinging to its haunches. It comes forward in little bursts, a few steps at a time.

Steve freezes like a deer, mind racing as he tries to remember where he left his bat.

The wolf’s (he thinks) greenish blue eyes pierce right through him, pinning him to the spot.

“H-hi,” Steve ventures. “You uh… wouldn’t be planning on killing me, would you? Cuz I promised my friend Max I’d drive her to the arcade tomorrow and I’d hate to miss it.”

The wolf cocks his head to the side and advances several more steps, until Steve can feel the heat of it’s breath on his face.

He scrambles back, shivering in fear. The light streaking from the back door seems to hit it like a spotlight, highlighting the way it’s massive paws crunch agains the freshly frosted pavement.

Steve was trying, semi unsuccessfully, to make Max feel better after Starcourt. She’d become closed off, distant.

Shit, he really didn’t want her to lose another sort of brother in such a short period of time.

But the thing didn’t eat him. It just kind of stared down at him.

Then, slowly, deliberately, it lowered its head, turning it to the left.

Then, when Steve did nothing, it shook it’s head.

The breath stuck in Steve’s lungs as he saw the glint of something caught on it’s ear. He reached up with a trembling hand, expecting to find part of a fence.

But it wasn’t. He fumbled with smooth metal until he detached it, and held it up to the light.

Green blue eyes speared him as he took it in.

“Billy?”

The wolf just blinked at him sardonically. Like, yeah asshole.

Holy shit.

“We gotta call Max.” Steve whispered.

[deadghosy]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇! ||𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎

Synopsis: Mattheo’s teeth are aching for something to bit into, maybe even tear into. And with you doing anything he wishes, he wishes you what’s on his mind. And that wish accidentally broke a secret he held for years.

Warning: not proofread, possessive behavior, biting kink?, clawing a little, suggestive.

MONSTOBER

Biting his nails, he couldn’t stop. He hated it, he hated this agitating feeling in his teeth. It was mostly his canines. After being bit in first year and not telling anyone. Not even his closest friend, you. His canines feel the need to bite into something. But he didn’t know what, he didn’t know who. But whatever it was, he needed to get it over with.

After class was over he moved quickly through the crowd. Every aching second, the aching in his lower canines and his top ones was begging to chomp. All he could think about was biting into some meat. Or anything else. Theodore seemed to spot a speeding riddle who literally ran over a small 3rd year. Theodore looked at you who was too busy on your phone, him noticing, took the phone from you.

“Hey. Your asshole just ran over a 3rd year….and have you noticed he’s been acting weird today?” You raised a brow at the Italian Slytherin . “He’s been acting weird? He was fine with me around..” Theodore rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of course he acts like he’s fine with you. He doesn’t want you to worry about him.” You frowned. Theodore gave you your phone back, but you put it in your book bag. “So…you’re basically trying to say for me to go confront him about his actions?” Theodore immediately facepalmed. “YES!” He yelled, making you scatter from him and run after Mattheo. Sadly though, Mattheo was faster and you lost trace of him. But you knew where he was.

Mattheo quickly entered his dorm, dropping his bag down and walking back and forth. He can’t, he can’t stand it. He feels like he’s going to lose his brain as his teeth ache more and more by the second, by the minute, by the— his thoughts are caught off by a knock. But there’s a certain scent behind the door. Mattheo’s felt his wolf howl and his eyes dilate at your smell. Mattheo starting biting his nails again. He couldn’t help it, maybe if he stayed quiet you would leave him alone. But you didn’t. Each knock didn’t help that he wanted to burst the door down and hug you. Mark you.

“Matty?” You say from behind the door. Mattheo almost immediately ran to the door before you opened it yourself. “Matt, you okay?” “No.” He blurted out quickly. Your brow’s narrowed at the nervous look of his. He looked like he was sweating, he looked like he was guilty of something. “Y/N. You know how you said you’d do anything for me…” you nodded slowly, closing his door as he approached you. You circled around him. Not knowing what the hell was wrong with him. With your back facing the bed and his back facing the door. There was definitely no escape. “I want to bite you..”

The silence in the room was deadly loudly. Your eyes widen as he tried to explain himself. “Listen! I know it sounds weird, but please. I got bit by a werewolf during first year. I was dumb and stupid.” He prowled towards you, making you try to move back before he gripped your shoulders in place. “I need..to bite something. My teeth. My teeth, are killing me. They are—” you sighed taking his hands off you. “I..I don’t know what to say. I mean…it’s unbelievable. But with how you are acting right as of now. I might as well let you.” You said, pulling your shirt down to show your shoulder. Mattheo felt his teeth ache more, he started to slowly graze his fingers on the smooth skin that is your shoulder. “You mean—” “Mattheo. Just do it before I change my mind.” You said firmly. Mattheo nodded. He leaned his face towards your shoulder and lost control.

He started to pathetically claw at your shirt as he bites down on your shoulder. You hiss but held his shoulders. You thought he would bite hard, but really it wasn’t that bad. Mattheo started clench his jaw, now that’s when it started to hurt. Your slight painful groans and hisses didn’t reach his ears as Mattheo kept moving his body forward. He moved forward, making you fall onto the bed with your back pressed against the mattress. Mattheo growled lowly against your skin, pulling one of your legs to his hip. Your hands quickly found way to his biceps.

Mattheo pulled his head back to see your shoulder. Mattheo’s eyes dilated at the sight of your shoulder imprinted with his bite mark. He felt his breath hitch as he now lifted your shirt and started to mark you more. With every aching bite you felt your cheeks heat up. Mattheo felt possessive, he felt like something was screaming to scar every single part of you.

He didn’t know why, but he loved it. And he can smell that you loved it too. As he finally reached to your neck, he paused before slowly biting it. Feeling your pulse in you neck made him slowly control himself and bite you. You gripped his shoulders. You gripped them hard as a slight moan left your lips. Mattheo’s jaw loosened, feeling his teeth stop to ache. He backs off your neck and looks at you. “I…I’m sorry..” mattheo says after taking full control of his senses. Even though Mattheo felt sorry, he didn’t feel fully sorry for what he really did as he found himself oddly happy that you were marked by him.

“It’s okay Matty…” you say with a small smile, you put your palm against the side of his face. Immediately Mattheo leaned into your touch. Closing his eyes and laying his body on you. “I’m sorry…” he says again, looking at the big bite on your shoulder. He reaches his hand over and rubs it. He then stops feeling you flinched which earns him a frown. “I’ll heal Matt.” “I know. But I won’t knowing I hurt you.” You kissed his forehead. He smiled before frowning and you frowned noticing it. You sat up with a hum, he looked up at you with those beautiful dark brown eyes. His eyelashes were memorizing.

“I love you…” you say, mattheo’s eyes dilated again. He rubs his head against your stomach. His wolf was happy to hear those words. Mattheo laid there against you happily with a small smile. “Say it again please…” he says softly. You chuckled starting to comb your fingers through his hair. “I love you….”

[jessjad]

Please? I have a Dean Winchester x reader request. The idea I had was the reader coming back from trying to have a normal life after 2 years but being saved by Dean from her abusive ex-boyfriend, who was possessed by a demon. She calls him from a motel after escaping from the attack and almost getting killed.

Feel free to message me if you want to ask questions. I can't wait to read it.

A/N: So, this request from @ravenrose18 immediately sparked some ideas. And I was changing things over and over again. This could've gone so many ways and I think I got the best compromise out of it all. I hope, you like it, lovely! Thanks so much for sharing your request with me! 💜

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2948

Warnings: 18+ only!!! (Only for the violence), tension, abuse, cuts, wounds, angst, feelings.

My Masterlist

Voice from the past

Dean was nervous. Really nervous. He was driving toward Arkansas City. As Baby purred gently across the streets, AC/DC played softly on the radio. The almost four-hour journey from Lebanon seemed to never end, even though there was so much distance behind him. He was only about thirty minutes away to be exact, but it still felt like a long way away. But even if he had had to drive another four hours, he would have done it.

He kept thinking back to last week. The day he got a message that he hadn't really expected. It came from Y/N. Sam would now say 'the Y/N' and somehow he was right. Even though Dean wouldn't admit it, of course.

But Y/N had been a part of his life for a long time. She grew up with Bobby after he was the only one who saved her from the clutches of a werewolf. Unfortunately, her family wasn't so lucky. And since Dean and Sam were often at Bobby's and somehow grew up there themselves, they had become friends over the years.

Y/N had also grown up as a hunter and Dean had taught her to shoot at some point. She got better and better as time went on, becoming more fearless and brave. And Dean had to admit then and there that he had fallen in love. Feelings that still persist to this day.

That's exactly why he didn't like thinking back to his last conversation with her. It was almost two years ago when Y/N explained to him that she wanted to give up the hunter life. Dean hadn't really known how to react. Over the years they had solved cases together and traveled together, even if their paths had always diverged. But the fact that she wanted to quit because of a guy surprised the older Winchester.

Todd. His name was Todd. Urgh...was there a name that sounded even more wimpy? He wouldn't be surprised if he drank warm milk. Dean cleared his throat briefly at that thought. Okay, maybe the jealousy came out of him for a moment. And maybe also the disappointment that he simply couldn't find the heart to tell her that he wanted to keep her by his side. That she was important to him.

But well, maybe now he had a new opportunity to do so. Because according to her own statement, Todd was now a thing of the past and she wanted to go back to the hunter life. A second chance. And Dean was determined to use it too.

A moment later his cell phone rang and when he saw Y/N calling him, his heart beat a little faster. This was the first time Y/N actually called since she contacted him. He answered the call with a small grin.

"Hey, sweatheart. I'm not even twenty minutes away. I could stop and bring us some greasy burgers. What do you think?"

But he didn't get an immediate answer.

"Hello? Y/N?" he asked again and then he heard it.

Heavy breathing and a slight wince. He furrowed his brows and worry spread through him. But again it took a few seconds before he got an answer.

"Dean?" came faintly and with a pained undertone from the other side.

This was definitely not what he expected and he automatically stepped on the gas a little more.

"What happened?"

It stinked. This motel smelled. The worn out carpet, the musty bed linen, the tattered curtains. Even the wallpaper seemed to give off a foul smell. And yet Y/N was happy that she had somehow made it here. The hotel was abandoned, no longer in use, and she was lucky that the door to this room at the back of the building wasn't locked. Even if it had taken a lot of effort for her to even get in.

Now Y/N was crouched behind the bed in the corner and the adrenaline that had given her the strength and stamina to make it this far was slowly wearing off. And the more she calmed down, the more her body began to ache. The cuts on her arms and legs were the least of her problems. Her ankle was now throbbing quite badly and she knew she had several bruises.

Her heart was racing and she tried to calm down, but it wasn't that easy. Every time she tried to take a deep breath, her chest would rebel and her left shoulder would experience stabbing pain. She didn't have to question the fact that this was probably the worst injury.

Y/N carefully tried to pull the jacket off her shoulder when she noticed that she was losing more and more feeling in her left arm. She huffed and moaned slightly. The makeshift bandage that Y/N had pressed over the gaping wound was now soaked with blood and small red rivulets were making their way down her arm.

She was in pretty bad shape.

This was not how Y/N had imagined her return to hunter life. She slowly tried to sit up a little, but failed. With a dejected laugh, she briefly closed her eyes and tried to suppress the tears that wanted to make their way down her cheeks. When did everything go so wrong? She had just wanted to meet Dean to get up to speed. And now here she was, lying on the dirty floor of a disused motel, probably bleeding to death.

But then her memory got a little jolt. Dean! She had to call Dean. And so, with a blood-stained hand, she strained to fish her cell phone out of her back pocket. It still took three more attempts to dial his number.

As she listened to the beep, she realized that she was slowly losing consciousness. Y/N is finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate and stay awake. But as soon as she heard Dean's deep voice greeting her happily, it gave her another push.

But she still found it difficult to speak and her body seemed to ring like an alarm with every movement.

"I'm... not in Arkansas City... anymore." she replied almost breathlessly.

"Where are you?" came the question in a firm and determined voice.

"I'm... in an abandoned... motel outside... of Winfield." Y/N suppressed a painful groan. "Dean... I'm... hurt pretty bad."

There was a brief, almost unsettling silence before Dean spoke again.

"Okay, listen. Don't move and try to stay calm. I'll be right there. The only thing you have to do is stay awake. Alright? Don't fall asleep."

She agreed to this as best she could and after giving Dean the name and room number, they hung up.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Y/N heard her pulse racing and the blood rushing in her ears. Still, she tried to stay awake. With her right hand she lightly pressed the wound on her left shoulder. The small pulses of pain that the pressure sent through her body helped her. That, and the thought of Dean. His green eyes, the mischievous smile, his dark voice.

Y/N had been in love with him for such a long time now. She couldn't even remember when it happened. But she had known that she had to free herself from him at some point. Because it was clear that he would never feel the same for her. All the women he spent the nights with, at one point it had been to much. And when Todd showed up in her life two years ago, it was almost like a sign.

But she didn't think that the exit and the distance from Dean would draw her back to him. She loved him and she wanted to at least try to win him over.

So she had talked to Todd. He had been nice from the start. He had been charming and always seemed as if there were no problems in the world that couldn't be solved somehow. He had embodied freedom and somehow Y/N had wanted that too. The hunter's life was hard and you had to renounce many things.

She had really liked him, but nothing more had come of it over time. And then over a year in, he started to change. He got more and more aggressiv, until he had hit her the first time. That was three monts ago. At first she had not known how to react to that, but the more the abuse happened, the more she knew she had to get away.

So she explained to him that she wanted to go back to her old life. She hadn't mentioned that that also meant Dean. Todd didn't take the decision too well. He was furious and she had feared that he would attack her. So she bolted to Arkansas City. But of course he found her there and his black eyes stared into hers as he stabbed the knife into her shoulder.

"How could... I be so stupid?" Y/N said to herself. “Why didn’t I... notice anything?”

Her head started to spin and every second felt like an hour. She slipped in and out of consciousness. She had to try harder and harder to stay awake. And just when she thought she could not do it anymore, the door busted open and she heared Dean calling her.

When Dean spotted Y/N behind the bed and knelt down in front of her, he had to swallow. She looked pale, weak and fragile. Not at all like the young, cheeky woman he remembered. But he just couldn't let that show. He carefully touched her lower leg and Y/N opened her eyes.

As soon as she saw Dean, her tears flowed and relief was written all over her face. It almost broke his heart because it had taken him a little longer to find the motel and the more time passed, the more she probably lost hope that he would find her in time.

"What happened? Can you move?" He immediately saw the blood trickling down her left arm and looked around for something he could use as a bandage.

"It was Todd. He followed me down to... Arkansas City. He... was possessed by a demon. I... I didn't notice." As she spoke, she tried to stand up, but she lacked the strength.

"Okay, slow down." Dean was immediately at her side, stabilizing her so she didn't collapse.

"It must have... happened when... he was out and about. The... demon wanted revenge. I killed... a friend... probably three years ago."

"Huh." Dean responded, but that wasn't rare at all. "Is he on your heels?"

Dean had taken off his shirt and balled it up and was pushing it onto her shoulder. They couldn't stay here long. Y/N had to go to a hospital.

"No. I... shot him with a devil's trap bullet." now Dean looked at her in surprise. "The weapon... you gave me."

Relief flooded his heart now. The gun had been his parting gift. You could never be sure. Still, he would send out a hunter bat signal so someone would check on Todd and make sure he was no longer a threat.

"Okay, Y/N, I'm going to pick you up now. Or do I have to do a once over?"

The young woman next to him laughed dryly. "No. My shoulder is messed up. My ankle is most likely busted. But other than that I'm fine."

Dean had to grin. There was a little glimpse of the Y/N he knew. But they didn't have much time left. He could see that she was losing her strength. So he carefully took her into his arms. Something she couldn't endure without a pained groan.

Soon she was safely seated in the front seat of the Impala. By now Dean had changed his fully drenched shirt with a spare towel he had in his trunk. He gritted his theeth, because it seemed that Y/N was pressing the towel down on her shoulder like she was holding on for dear life.

Dean slid behind the steering wheel and immediately drove off. It was oddly quiet in the car and his knuckles turned white. He glanzed over to Y/N every now and then to make sure that she was still awake. The hospital in Winfield was still a ways away, but he was determined to get there as quickly as possible.

Dean heared Y/N whimper everytime he drove over a bump on the street. He apologized everytime, too. But otherwise he did not know what to say. The silence almost killed him but time was not flying by fast enough. And then, Y/N decided to talk.

"Dean?" her weak voice bled over the engine of the Impala while she kept pressing the towel on her shoulder. "I have to tell you... something..."

"Don't speak now. You need all your energy that's left in you, sweetheart. Just stay awake, will you?"

Dean's knuckles once again became white while he was holding the steering wheel. He also increased the speed he was driving at. The hospital was not far away anymore, but she had lost a lot of blood by now and that was what really worried him.

"But I... have to tell... you." She said again, but her mind became foggy and she started to feel sleepy.

"Nothing can be that important right now. And when you're thinking of sayin' goodbye to me, quit it. Not gonna happen. So, hold on. We're almost there."

For a second he thought he'd won, buit then Y/N crushed his heart.

"I love you." her words rang in his ears, although he could not really believe it. But she then made sure her message came through. "I've been in love with you... for such as long time... now and... I just wanted you... to know that."

And with her last breath she closed her eyes, not being able to stay awake anymore. Dean's voice accompanied her into the darkness, calling out to her.

An annoying beep woke Y/N from her sleep, but waking up wasn't that easy. Her head was pounding a bit and a bright white light made it difficult for her to open her eyes. When she finally made it, she realized she was lying in a bed and was hooked up to monitors. They had made it to the hospital.

She looked around further and spotted Dean sleeping in a chair next to her bed. His head hung back a bit and his mouth was slightly open. It almost looked like he was drooling a little. How could such a strong man be so adorkably cute?

Suddenly he jumped up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. When he saw that Y/N had woken up, he got up and came over to her.

"Y/N! You're awake. How are you? Do you need anything?" Inwardly he wanted to take her hand in his, but he held back.

"No, no, I..." she tried to sit up a little, but it didn't really work.

Dean helped her position the headboard high enough to jer liking. He also gave her a glass of water that she didn't actually asked for. Nevertheless, she accepted it gratefully.

"So? How about me?" Y/N asked and Dean scratched the back of his neck lightly.

"Perhaps a doctor should explain this to you." he replied, already making his way to the door.

"Wait!" she stopped Dean. "Explain it to me. Please."

How could he say 'no' to that? So he came back to her and looked at her with a crooked smile.

"You have several cuts and bruises on your body. A bruised rib and your ankle is sprained. But that will probably sort itself out over time. Your shoulder did need surgery though. Something with the spina specu... spina... spinach something."

Y/N giggled, but put her hand over her mouth so Dean wouldn't see it as he continued. "But that too could be repaired and in a few months... you should be back to your old self."

"Well, that's what I call an exciting reunion." She joked, but Dean didn't seem too keen on it.

"I could have thought of better things than taking you to the hospital covered in blood and seriously injured."

And he was serious. It would be a lie if he said that seeing her like that didn't bother him. The thoughts he'd had about her when they'd left him sitting in the waiting room. When no doctor or nurse wanted to talk to him, update him. When his heart had been gripped by an iron hand that had almost stopped him from breathing.

Hopefully he would never have to go through this again.

"I'm sorry." said Y/N with a small voice and lowered her head.

Dean balled his hand to fists and turned fully to her. "I was really afraid for you. Especially when you suddenly stopped talking in the car."

And suddenly Y/N remembered the last thing she said to Dean. Her eyes widened and she didn't have to look up to know that the elephant in the room was now literally there. Nevertheless, she suddenly felt a little nervous and couldn't say anything.

"The doc said that you need to stay a couple more days in the hospital and after that... I'll take you with me to Lebanon." Now Y/N looked up again. "We need to talk."

"Dean, I..." she started, but when she saw that Dean walked up to her to take her hand in his, she felt silent again.

"I love you, too." He then finally said and Y/N looked up at him in surprise. "And if you let me, I'll never let you out of my sight again."

A/N: That’s it. It was really fun and I hope you liked it. 😊 Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

Everything Taglist:

@lyarr24 @k-slla @nk1023 @iloveeveryoneyouramazing

[againaweasel]

Is the whole ‘Remus and tonks was a lavender marriage’ (and ‘Tonks baby trapped Remus’) thing having a resurgence or is it just a coincidence that I’ve seen like 10 posts/comments about in the last 2 days?? Either way I’m gonna yap again whilst I get ready for work 🥸

I'm begging people on my knees atp to look up why Lavender Marriages were a thing and then provide me with two bits of textual evidence that suggest marrying Remus could have HELPED Tonks' social standing and made life easier for her than staying single.

Because there's evidence to the contrary in absolute abundance:

1. Voldemort mocks Tonks for marrying Remus (DH ch1), leading to:

3. Tonks singled out to be "pruned" by Bellatrix who "tried her hardest to kill me,Remus" because of her marriage (DH ch5)

4. Their wedding has to be "quiet" (DH Ch4)

5. Tonks has to literally run away so she's not seen with her husband by her own boss (DHch7)

6. And she explains this is explicitly because the “ministry is being very anti-werewolf” which now affects her (DH ch8)

7. So, given this, we know she can't be open about her marriage with her colleagues (DH ch8)

8. Tonks' parents are "disgusted" at her marriage (DH ch11)

9. Tonks is explicitly said to have been "made an outcast” (DH Ch11)

In fact, there's only two scenes in all of Deathly Hallows where Tonks is there/mentioned and the idea this marriage has fucked her social standing hasn't come up: when Teddy is born, and when she fucking dies 🫠

This gets even more obvious if you look at what society says about werewolves and Remus as a whole. He also doesn’t get any benefits socially - if anything things might be worse for him too (but tbh who could tell)

And I'm not saying this because you have to ship Remus and Tonks. of course you don't. Ship what you like, don't ship what you don't like. I'm not trying to convince you to ship remadora in any way.

But words have meanings, and the text REALLY isn't subtle with how much this marriage impacts Tonks. I'd have once argued that once we get Remus explicitly saying this marriage has made Tonks an outcast it might actually be laying it on too thick but now maybe it needed to be thicker?

(But also as for the “tonks baby trapped Remus” thing, not only is it misogynistic to a comical level but it's absolutely not true. They were already married when they found out she was pregnant (which was likely around the wedding when tonks is described as glowing) and, given Remus’ reaction to finding out she’s pregnant is to run away, he wouldn’t have immediately married her just because she was pregnant…like almost the exact opposite. [they'd also physically have to be given how quick they got married and how long after a missed period pregnancy tests work/could even be noticed by Tonks])

[tired-biscuit]

have we considered...werewolf farmhand kiba...he likes being out in the wilderness with space to roam...he's big and strong and can do all the heavy lifting...he and akamaru would be perfect guard dogs for livestock.............he could breed the farmers daughter under the full moon................

cw: monsterfucking, breeding, pregnancy

oh god wait, now i’m thinking that since he’s part wild beast, he has a bit of trouble with understanding certain social cues from time to time, which leads him to stare at you like you’re something to eat while he works.

just this unmoving and completely unashamed leering that almost feels like borderline eye-fucking at certain points; especially during the summer, when your clothes are shorter and you start showing more skin.

you catch him doing it often, and while most people would simply look away after being caught, he’s not technically people, now is he? so he just keeps looking, and looking, and looking — dragging his dark brown eyes with their unnaturally thin slits for pupils up and down your legs, arms, the thin sliver of exposed skin on your stomach… all until you visibly start to squirm a little bit in response to all the attention you’re getting and he feels this strong sense of satisfaction rushing through his chest because of it.

but overall, he’s pretty sweet! while he may come across as intense and broody with his overly-rugged appearance and sharp teeth, he’s actually cute and perhaps even blushy whenever you praise him for a job well done and step onto the tips of your toes to ruffle his hair. he tries to pretend like it’s nothing, grunting something about how you’re distracting him from his work and that your dad is going to make him pay for it, even though he’s leaning further into your touch, silently begging for more.

sooner than later, curiosity gets the best of you and you start fooling around with him. however, he doesn’t dare step foot inside the house where his boss sleeps, so you have to keep sneaking out into the woods with him at night just so that you can explore each other’s bodies a little.

the forest can be scary when night falls, but you feel safe with him. he’s big and strong and extremely affectionate now that he’s bonded with you. besides that, he’s familiar with the trees and the soft grass that sways in the breeze, as well as all the creatures that lurk in the dark. you can trust him to get you back home safely, even if he has to watch you slip past your front door from a distance.

everything goes well for the first couple of months, but then you decide that you want him when he’s very close to his transformation, and all of a sudden your pussy ends up stretched and stuffed full with his knot; potent and hot werewolf cum steadily filling your womb. he’s lost control of himself and now he’s snarling and growling into your ear, breeding you like an animal. poor, poor you.

the cravings you begin to experience after that are not normal. you want your meat served practically raw and seem to remain completely insatiable no matter how many times he lets you sit on his cock. and god, your patience… there isn’t any of it left. you’re pure rage, feeling this endless urge to just sink your teeth into something and tear it right apart.

and what you also are, is pregnant with his pup. it shows in your scent, which consequently makes him incapable to work on the farm since he becomes aggressively protective whenever he’s near you and fails to listen to any sort of reason whatsoever.

you’ve got quite a problem on your hands. he could kill someone if they got too close.

[mypoisonedvine]

Humbly requesting knotting with werewolf bill pleaseeeeee I’m thirsty 🥺

oh god oh jesus oh no oh god oh jesus this got out of hand quickly...

warnings: knotting and a few other a/b/o tropes but technically not a/b/o cause reader is 'normal', semi-werewolf bill (I don't get into the specifics it's porn), size kink and some pain, breeding kink, biting/marking kink

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, but his grip was getting tighter on your thighs; you knew he needed this. It's why you agreed in the first place— but the little fucker kept stalling.

Okay, actually, not a little fucker. That was exactly what was holding him back now: knowing he was anything but little.

"I would never forgive myself, really," he insisted, "if you— if it hurt you. If I—"

"Bill, it's okay," you promised. "I can take it."

You weren't actually totally sure of that; now that you'd seen his cock, and now that you'd read about werewolves and their... mating, you were a bit nervous that he really would ruin you. But you at least wanted to try— and you knew that whatever he needed, you could give. "But if you need me to stop—"

"I know," you sighed, "you'll be the first to know."

He sighed, looking down at you and tilting his head slightly. "You're too good to me," he breathed.

"Hey, just a favour between friends," you insisted, even though it was obviously more than that; he laughed a little, knowing this was beyond the typical bounds of a friendly offering. But you'd been the one to suggest it, when he explained to you how sick he could get if he didn't give in to his breeding instinct, and he had only checked that you really meant it about a thousand times before he agreeing to it.

His cock was already hard, of course; actually, it was throbbing, like it knew what was coming. He'd been struggling to control himself as soon as he smelled you— your cunt, your arousal, he swore he could hear your heartbeat. His body longed to fill you, breed you, claim you, and it was a little more than just his newfound werewolf qualities talking... but he wasn't quite acknowledging that consciously at the moment.

He laid his cock down over your stomach, pressing his base right up to where it would meet you if he was balls deep, and almost snarled at the sight of his tip surpassing your belly button. "S'how deep it's gonna be..." he whispered to you.

You swallowed thickly. "I can fit it. At least I'll try."

He shut his eyes, summoning a few more moments of patience, swearing to himself that he would be gentle with you even if it took more self-control than he felt he had at the moment.

"I-it's okay if you don't want to, with me," you added quickly, nervous with the way he seemed to keep hesitating. "It was just an idea..."

But he was so focused on admiring your body under him, your spread legs and the wet, waiting cunt between them— soft skin, a patient stare on your face; there was a sick little voice in his mind, shouting out from one of the deepest corners ruin, ruin, ruin. He needed you to be his. He knew how dangerous this was; but it nearly killed him last rut, not being able to fuck anything but his hand. He already felt the base of his cock pulsing, ready to swell and knot anything at this point. "I want you," he whispered. "Really fucking bad. Is that okay?"

You bit your lip. "Yeah, that's okay. I want you to do it, Bill— take me. I wanna help you."

He nodded a little, before he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was gentle, shockingly so— that was the last of his human resolve, it felt like. It was the way he imagined he should've kissed you a long time ago, if he wasn't always too nervous to try. You kissed him back, reaching up to gently hold onto his arms. You felt... little. Smaller than usual. Maybe it was your shyness, or maybe it was just that he felt big in times like this.

He pressed his swollen head to your opening, and sighed as he plunged forward. Your nails dug into his skin, but he kept going; you whined against his lips, but he kept going, going going until he was flush against you and your eyes were rolled back in your head. "F-fuck, Bill— s'deep..."

"Fuck," he groaned, lifting you up, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close; he needed to feel you everywhere, as much as he could. "Is it hurting you?"

"No, fuck," you promised, holding onto him in return, "just move. I'm ready."

He tried to be slow, really, but it was hard not to just let his animal side take over. With all his patience, he managed to keep it not-quite-rushed but still not delicate either; you whined and hid your face in the crook of his neck, so he kissed the side of your head as he tried to remind himself not to hurt you. "It won't take me long," he assured, thinking that was a good thing in this case since you were probably struggling with it. "I— I haven't at all, since... since it happened. And I need it more than ever."

He saw your bare shoulder, and he shuddered with desire.

"You're so pretty," he breathed, "I want— I wanna bite you. Fuck, is that weird?"

"Do it," you pleaded, baring your neck for him; he was totally helpless to that, and he licked all over your skin before carefully sinking his teeth in. "Fuck! Bill, fuck, I like it— I like when you do that to me..."

He growled and did it again, on your shoulder; he wanted to mark you all over until you could never hide what he'd done to you. "Tell me it feels good," he demanded.

"It feels— oh god, Bill, it feels really fucking good... your cock is— fuck!" you moaned, and he could feel you shaking in his arms.

"I want you to come first," he whispered, "it might make it easier to take. I don't think I'll last much longer..."

He held your hips and tilted them just right, so your clit could grind against the spot above his cock— which was already just about ready to knot you, by the way, but he was holding it back somehow— and he hoped you wouldn't mind that he hadn't done much to tame the wild ginger hairs there.

He almost lost his cool when you started to rub yourself on him, rocking your hips just the way you needed, moaning louder in his ear. All he could've hoped for was that this would satisfy him, but clearly you loved it too, and that made him twice as desperate in an instant. "Fuck, it's coming— the knot," he warned with a gasp. "M'gonna breed you. Fuck. Gonna give you pups."

"Bill," you sobbed, but he couldn't stop talking as he fucked you faster and rougher than ever.

"Gonna be so fucking pretty— so fucking full," he groaned, "full of me. Gonna be mine now."

"Yeah," you panted.

"Gonna be so good for me, m'gonna breed you over and over—"

"Fuck!" you whimpered, and he could feel you pulsing, creaming around him; it was enough to make a growl echo in his chest.

"Mine," he insisted again, "my girl. Say it."

"Yours," you promised, "fuck, I want it— knot me, Bill, breed me—"

He already was, as soon as you said he was yours: the base of his cock filled and he heard your words break into a shaky sob as it pushed you to your absolute limits. He'd imagined he might pull the knot out of you before it got too big, to save you the pain, but now that he was here he had no intentions of keeping it anywhere but safe and warm inside you. "Good girl," he praised, "all fucking mine. Can you feel it? Feel me breeding you?"

You were speechless, just shivering and nodding; he could feel your tears, they were running down his chest as you pressed your face against him, and he should've felt guilty for how much he loved it.

Still, a bit of sanity was returning now that his knot was inside you, his come filling you— and not a drop of it would go to waste, with him keeping you plugged like this.

He held tighter onto you and laid you back on the beg again, kissing your tear-stained face.

"Tell me you're okay," he requested quietly, and you just nodded. "I'm sorry, I— not everything I said was— you won't get pregnant, there's a potion for it."

You smiled a little. "It's fine."

"It's fine, as in, it's fine that I said it, or... it's fine, you won't take the potion?"

Your wide, teary eyes looked up at him, and he figured he might have said too much, but he couldn't find the heart to take it back. "Would you... I mean, would you let me—?"

"Would I let you have my baby?" he chuckled. "It's your choice."

"That's... a pretty big favour for a friend," you mumbled, and he laughed before he nuzzled his face against yours.

"How about if I'm in love with you? What then?" he whispered. "And if you loved me to? Maybe we could..."

"Yeah," you breathed, "okay. Maybe."

He purred happily as he kissed one of your tears away. "Good," he said, "because I think when this knot goes down, we might have to start all over."

[candycandy00]

I was literally salivating when I saw your 2k follower event (congratulations btw!!!) and had to send this. Your writing is fucking amazing and I can't wait to read more of your stuff!

Character: Dabi

AU Setting: Monster Forest

Spice Level: NSFW

Mood: Light

Kinks: Breeding and size difference

Blood Moon Rising - A Dabi x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. AU. Dabi as a werewolf. Fem Reader. Breeding. Size difference. Werewolf related biting/blood. 

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback/comments/reblogs would be loved! Dividers by @benkeibear!

You run through the forest at top speed, branches and twigs scraping your legs, tearing your dress. The night air is crisp and cool against your face, though the rest of your body is sweating beneath the layers of satin and lace. Above you, the full moon glows an eerie red. Blood moon, they call it. 

On nights like this, he hunts. 

You hear leaves crunching behind you, sticks snapping in the distance, an otherworldly howl among the trees to your right. A creature like him could attack from any direction. That’s how fast he is. 

You should’ve known better than to try outrunning him. Your weak human legs can only carry you so far, so fast, before they lose strength. Your fatigued feet catch on an unearthed tree root, and your body tumbles to the cold, damp ground. You’re lying on your stomach, panting, trying to get to your knees at least, when you hear him directly behind you.

Turning your head slowly, you look back. Even in the dim, red tinted moonlight shining through the trees, you can see him clearly. He’s taller than a normal human, his body toned but lithe beneath the thin layer of solid white fur. His face is mostly human, but with a slightly elongated nose and mouth, rows of razor sharp teeth visible in his grin. His eyes are a bright glowing blue, like two burning sapphires. His long fingers are tipped with terrifying claws that look like they could shred steel. 

You roll over so that you can face him, still lying on the ground. 

He stands over you, a low rumbling growl emanating from his throat. “I agreed to stop hunting the villagers since you volunteered to be my prey,” he says in a ragged voice, “but you’ve gotta make it worth my while, doll.”

You look up at him with a pouty expression. Touya is your childhood friend, one you fell in love with in your teenage years and have wanted to marry since you both hit adulthood. But you’ve never had the courage to confess your feelings. You might flirt with him, but so far he’s either oblivious to your intentions or is purposely ignoring them. 

When he admitted to you that he’d been bitten by a werewolf and now turns into one on every full moon night, you were of course very worried. He has dubious control over himself when transformed, and a powerful urge to hunt and feed. He killed several of the people in your village, though he targeted specific individuals. A man who was known for beating his wife. A woman who made phony medicine and sold it at exorbitant prices to sick, desperate people. A man who raped a young girl and received no punishment because he was the richest man in the village. 

But Touya was running out of bad people to hunt, and twice he was shot at by terrified villagers. So you approached him with an idea. He could hunt you, chase you through the woods and get it out of his system, and you would count on your long friendship to keep him from killing you. 

The first time, he clawed your leg, and the sight of your blood spilling brought him back to his senses. He clearly felt terrible about it. The second time, he almost bit you, but was able to hold himself back. The third time he tore your dress, almost ripping it off you before he got himself under control. You’re not sure what he intended to do, but you suspect his urge to mate is stronger in wolf form too. A part of you wished he would have kept going. 

For the past few times, his control has generally been better. Not always, but usually he just chases you down, catches you, and then the hunt is over. 

Tonight, he caught you faster than ever. There’s a strange gleam in his eyes that’s usually not there, and from his voice you can tell that he’s struggling to maintain control. Could it be the blood moon? Is it making his wolf instincts stronger? 

“Sorry,” you say, still on the ground, leaning back on your elbows. “You were too fast tonight. Are you okay?”

His eyes are moving over you, and it sounds like he’s breathing a little harder. “I’m fine. It’s just… the urges are really strong tonight. Maybe you should get back to the village.”

“But you’re not satisfied, are you? I can run again. Just tell me what to do to help.”

His shining blue eyes widen slightly. “Doll, you don’t wanna know what would help me right now. Just go home while I’m still in control.”

You stare at him, at the muscles flexing beneath the soft white fur. He’s wearing nothing but ripped black pants. God, you want him. You can’t satisfy his urge to kill, but maybe you can satisfy a different urge. 

While looking him in the eyes, you reach down and slowly slide your dress up your legs, revealing your thighs. 

He seems to stiffen, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“I want to help you. If using my body will calm the urges and keep you from attacking the village, I’m okay with it,” you tell him. You don’t say it out loud, but you’re afraid he’ll be shot at again. 

He scoffs. “You don’t know what you’re offering. I’ve never done anything like that in this form. What if I lose control? I could hurt you.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, pulling your dress higher, bunching the fabric at your waist and showing him your lace panties. 

The pupils of his lovely eyes seem to shift, looking more like long slits than circles. His clawed hands flex and clench at nothing. “We shouldn’t do this,” he mutters, sounding extremely unconvinced of his own argument. 

“Let me satisfy your urges,” you tell him, opening your legs. 

He’s breathing hard and fast, his eyes looking completely inhuman now. “Fuck… I’m gonna rip you apart and devour the pieces!”

With that alarming statement, he lunges forward, his larger than normal werewolf body suddenly upon you. His claws make short work of your dress, reducing it to useless strips of shredded satin that cover nothing. Only your thin panties remain, a pitifully flimsy barrier against his animalistic strength. He tears them off before you can even blink. 

You’re equal parts thrilled to finally have the man you love on top of you, and terrified that you’ve made a mistake and he’ll literally eat you. But when his hands begin exploring your exposed flesh, you notice he’s being careful to avoid injuring you with his claws. Even though he’s in his most beastly state, looking crazed and out of control, he’s trying his best not to hurt you. 

His mouth is on your neck, licking and sucking the rapidly bruising skin before moving down. He makes a wet, hot trail down your body, tasting various parts of you, until he pauses between your thighs. His eyes flick up to your face, and you look back at him with flushed cheeks and parted lips. You buck your hips from the ground just slightly, an encouraging gesture. 

He grins, showing off entirely too sharp teeth, and then his head dips down to taste your sweet nectar. You moan, your back arching reflexively as his warm tongue massages your clit. You feel the edge of a tooth, not biting, probably accidentally scraping over you. The thought of this being that hungers for your flesh having his teeth so close to your most tender place excites you. 

“So fucking delicious,” he murmurs against your skin. 

Your hand moves down to sink into his soft white hair, and you can feel the silky fur of his body brushing over your bare thighs. “Ahh… Touya!”

He pulls away, leaving you breathless as he tears open his already frayed pants. You try to get a good look at his cock, but in the darkness of the forest you can only see a vague but massive shape as he pushes your knees up toward your chest. And when he pushes it all the way inside your tight, dripping pussy, you can feel the velvety fur around the base of it. 

It’s a painful stretch, but his movements are careful, surprisingly controlled, even as he pants above you. His hands are on the ground beside you, his claws digging into the dirt, his eyes gleaming with predatory lust as he looks down at you. His thrusts begin slowly, but gradually become faster when your arms wrap around his neck. He’s reaching the deepest parts of you, all the while growling softly. 

Suddenly, the growls grow louder, and you realize he’s almost snarling. You look up to find him baring his teeth. His mouth opens, lunges down toward your shoulder, but stops before biting. He pulls back to look at you guiltily, but doesn’t stop thrusting. 

“This is dangerous,” he says. “You should be afraid of me, so why do you look so…”

He doesn’t finish the question, his eyes staring into yours. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” you tell him, hands on his face. “I’m in love with you. I have been for years.”

You hear his breath hitch, see a light pink blush cover his face as his eyes look away from yours. “D-don’t tell me shit like that when I’m buried in your pussy! Gonna make me lose what little control I have!” But then his eyes shift back to you, and in a voice so low you barely hear him, he says, “I feel the same way. Always have.”

His cock pulses inside you, and you clench around him in response, making him growl again. “Touya,” you moan, “bite me!”

“What? I can’t do that! If I bite you, you’ll be like me!”

You look up into his glowing eyes. “I want to be like you! We’ll be werewolves together! We’ll hunt each other and mate under every full moon!” You feel your own pleasure building as you speak, like you’re on the edge of a cliff, about to fall over. “Oh god, I’m close, Touya!”

He growls again, his instincts battling with his emotions. Then he yells, “Fuck! This is gonna hurt like hell, so don’t blame me!”

In the same instant you cum around his cock, spasming beneath him, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, tearing the flushed skin. You feel warm blood pouring from the wound as you tremble through your orgasm. Touya’s tongue laps at the ripped open flesh, his teeth still bearing down. You scream, from the pleasure and the pain, your arms clutching him. 

You hear him moan as he tastes you, and he thrusts in so incredibly deep as he cums inside you, filling you to the brim.

His teeth finally release their hold on your shoulder and he pulls his face away but remains inside you. He stares at the wound, and a mixture of guilt and arousal flash through his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

You move your arm slowly, and feel a stab of agony in your shoulder. “Ahh, how long does it hurt?!”

“For me it was a few hours. Then it healed like magic.” He leans forward and gently licks the wound. Strangely, it actually seems to help. “We should bandage it though.”

At this point he pulls out of you and climbs off, looking slightly awkward. “I hope you’re sure about this. There’s no going back now.”

You raise up on your elbows. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

His eyes rake over your nude body, then he holds out his hand to you and grins. “That’s good, because you’re stuck with me from now on.”

You laugh as you take his hand and let him pull you up by your uninjured arm, eager to begin your lives as two werewolves in love. 

Tags:

@doumadono 

[lacydollette]

TEAMING UP ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: exbf!dean x huntress!reader

warnings: heavy tension, mention of guns, dean being cocky, explicit language, lowkey a lil angsty, maybe fluff (?)

Dean moved carefully through the forest, keeping his steps light, always on high alert for any signs of the werewolf pack they were hunting. The brothers had tracked the attacks to this abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere. It was the perfect hideout—isolated, hidden deep in the woods, far enough from any town that no one would hear the screams. His grip tightened on the silver knife in his hand, they were close now.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Sam wasn't too far behind. They had split up to cover more ground, but something about this hunt felt off. He couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't the only ones out here tonight.

That feeling was confirmed when he heard the faint rustle in the bushes ahead. Instinctively, Dean tensed, his body ready for a fight as he inched closer to the noise. He barely had time to react before something lunged at him, slamming him back against a tree with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs.

Before he could get a grip on what was happening, he felt cold steel press into his chest, and a fierce hand gripping his throat. Whoever had him pinned was strong and definitely a combat master. And as his eyes adjusted to the shadows, he recognized the face glaring up at him.

"y/n?"

His voice came out rough, startled. It had been years since he'd seen you—his ex, the one who'd walked out of his life after you’d both decided your worlds were too dangerous to pull love and feelings into the mix. The one who never left his mind, no matter how much time passed.

You blinked, shock flashing in your eyes before it hardened into something more familiar. You stepped back, releasing him, but the gun stayed firmly in your grip, aimed at him as you spoke. "What the hell are you doing here, Dean?"

Of all people to run into on this hunt, it had to be him. It was like the universe was playing some kind of sick joke on you. You hadn't seen Dean in years, not since you both decided to go separate ways. Too much baggage, too much history. You had moved on. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

He rubbed his neck, a small smirk tugging at his lips despite the fact that you had nearly taken him out. "Nice to see you too, y/n. Still got that charming bedside manner, huh?"

Your eyes were cold, all business, just like you had been when you first met on a hunt years ago. You hadn't changed much—still fierce, still sharp, still... fucking beautiful. The moonlight highlighted the determination on your face, and for a second, Dean almost forgot where you two were.

"I nearly shot you," you said frustrated, trying to get rid of the thought of almost killing your ex boyfriend. Dean shrugged, his smirk fading as he let out a breath. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Your jaw clenched, and he could see the wheels turning in your head. He didn't know whether you were more annoyed that he was here or that he'd caught you off guard. Definitely both.

"This is my hunt," you snapped, eyes narrowing at him. "I've been tracking this pack for weeks.", "Yeah, well, so have we," Dean replied, meeting your glare. "Sam and I are here to take them out. Same mission, different day."

Your eyes flashed with anger, and for a second, Dean thought you might shove him back against the tree again. You had always been like this—stubborn, independent, never one to back down. It was one of the things that had drawn him to you in the first place, even if it was also the reason you couldn't make it work. You were too much alike, both hunters, both living lives that didn't leave room for anything or anyone else.

You stepped back, shaking your head. "I don't need your help, Dean. I've got this." Dean crossed his arms, his expression serious now. "Really? You're gonna take on a whole werewolf pack by yourself?"

You glared at him, and he could tell you weren’t in the mood for his questions. But he wasn't about to let you get yourself killed, even if you wanted to do this alone. There were too many of them—he and Sam had already counted at least five, maybe more, and even someone as tough as you couldn't take on that many without backup.

"Look," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, "I know you don't want me here, but we're on the same hunt. Let's take these bastards out together, and then you can go back to pretending I don't exist."

You scoffed, your grip tightening on your gun while you rolled your eyes at him. You didn't need anyone else. You had always worked best alone, and you weren’t about to let anything—or anyone—get in your way. Dean's temper flared for a second, but he held it back. "Look, I'm here to finish the job. That’s it.”

You both stood there, staring each other down, the tension between you thick. It was the same as it had always been, that push and pull that had kept you together—and tore you apart in the end. Eventually you gave in, at least it would be quicker this way, right?

Dean couldn't stop himself from watching you as you approached the barn. You moved like a shadow, silent and sharp, every step calculated, your eyes scanning the area like a hawk. You were damn good—one of the best hunters he knew. But that didn't make him worry any less. The werewolf pack all of you were up against wasn't just dangerous—it was reckless, and there were too many variables that could go wrong. Dean knew that better than anyone.

You had always been independent, always insisted on doing things your way, and normally, Dean respected that. Hell, he admired it. Yet he couldn't shake the knot of worry tightening in his chest.

It felt like old times, like you were slipping back into the partnership you used to have, it was like no time had passed at all. You still got under his skin, still made his heart race in ways he didn't want to admit. And as much as he tried to focus on the hunt, on the job, he couldn't ignore the pull he still felt toward you.

There was unfinished business between you two—there always had been. And deep down, Dean knew that no matter how hard he tried to move on, some part of him would always be tied to you. You weren’t just part of his past. You were part of who he was, whether he liked it or not and he had to keep you safe.

Dean glanced over at you, his jaw tight. "Get behind me." You shot him a look, the fire in your eyes flickering to life. "I don't need you to babysit me, Dean. I've got this." He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady, but the frustration was bubbling up inside him. "I'm not babysitting you. I just don't want you to get yourself killed." You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him. "You don't think I can handle it?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Dean growled, stepping closer. "I know you can handle it, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna stand here and watch you get torn apart." Your eyes flared with anger. "I don't need your protection."

“y/n I just want yo-“ he started, wanting to explain himself, yet you couldn’t help the frustration growing inside you. You always hated when he got too protective. For some it may seem caring and sweet, which it definitely was, but it made you feel weak, like Dean didn’t trust you. So before he could finish his sentence, you turned on him, shoving him hard against the nearest tree. He stumbled back, surprised, but he didn't resist.

Your arm was pressed against his chest, face just inches apart. "I've been doing this a long time," you hissed, voice low and dangerous. "I don't need you swooping in like some knight in shining armor. I'm not the damsel here, Dean." His lips curved into a smirk, the familiar cocky grin he knew would rile you up even more. "Never said you were, sweetheart. But if you wanted to get rough, all you had to do was ask."

Your eyes narrowed, he was so annoyingly attractive like this. Dean could feel the heat between the two of you rising, the space between you growing smaller, charged with a tension that had been brewing for years. You were still pressed against him, body close enough that he could feel the warmth of you against his chest.

"Don't start with me, Dean," you warned, but your voice had softened, just a fraction. Dean leaned in slightly, his grin still in place. "Who's starting? I'm just trying to be helpful."

You faltered for a split second, and Dean saw it—the brief flash of confusion in your eyes, the way your breath caught in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken, not from the argument, but from the way he was looking at you. That look—the one that always tore down your walls, no matter how hard you fought to keep them up. You hated that about him. Hated how, despite everything that had happened between you, despite how far you had come on your own, he still had this hold over you.

Your grip on his shirt loosened just enough that he could feel the tension in you melting away, little by little. For a moment, you stood there, locked in place, the world around you already forgotten. Dean's eyes flicked down to your lips, and for a split second, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—they could pick up where you two left off, despite everything that had happened.

His eyes pierced yours as you tried to remind yourself of the reasons the two of you didn't work, the reasons you had left. Dean was trouble. He was chaos. But when his eyes had flicked to your lips, every rational thought disappeared. It was like all those years apart hadn't changed anything. You still wanted him, still felt that magnetic pull whenever you two were close like this.

Your breath hitched, and you leaned in, your lips barely an inch from his. The heat between you was undeniable now, thick and electric, pulling both of you closer. Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest, everything else fading into the background. It was just you and him, like it always had been. But just as you were about to cross that line, a voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Uh, Dean?"

You two immediately jerked apart, snapping back to reality as Sam emerged from the shadows, his face a mix of shock and confusion. His eyes darted between you two, lingering on your form, and the look on his face said it all—he hadn't expected to see you, not after all these years.

"y/n?" Sam's voice was thick with surprise, his brows raised. "What are you doing here?" You quickly pulled yourself together, straightening your stance as you brushed off the tension that had almost swallowed you whole. "Just... hunting," you said coolly, but your voice wavered just enough that you could tell Dean noticed.

Dean cleared his throat, trying to shake off the heat still coursing through him. He shot a quick glance at you, walls back up in an instant. You kept your face neutral, but inside, you were cursing yourself for almost letting it happen. You had almost kissed him. After everything, after all the time you spent trying to move on, you had almost let yourself fall back into Dean’s orbit.

Sam's eyes flicked to his brother, and Dean could see the question there, unspoken but loud. He didn't have an answer for him—not right now. All he knew was that something between you and him had shifted, and no matter how hard you both tried to deny it, you couldn't go back to pretending like nothing had happened.

Not after this.

links: dean winchester masterlist

tags: @gibson-g1rl @beausling @figthoughts @chevroletdean @titsout4jackles @deansbite @sugardean @deansbeer @supernatural-wolfie @hischrrypie @angelicjackles @littlelamy @nuemanfilms @starzify