#so he'll poke you awake

[twilightakiishi]

i think takiishi would kiss you in places that he deems to be not super intimate, but it backfires because being kissed in places that no one else has ever kissed you is intimate in and of itself

[keiscorner]

2:53 am

"kei." no response. you know tsukishima has to get up early for work, but the window across from your bed is open, allowing the night breeze to creep in and sting your face. you could get up yourself, but that's what husbands are for, right?

you twist around, trying to wiggle out of your husband's grasp so you can take a better look at his sleeping face. he has an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, the other supporting your neck to, in his words, 'protect his ears from your constant complaints about your sore neck in the morning'.

"honey?" you poke his cheek, smiling to yourself when he grunts in response. tsukishima has always been a light sleeper. you lay in silence for a few seconds before he finally lets out a sigh, opening his eyes to look at you.

"what do you want?"

you muster up your biggest doe eyes, knowing that he hates getting out of bed just as much as you do. "close the window for me?"

"no. you do it."

you sigh dramatically, gesturing at his arms wrapped firmly around you. "i would love to, but someone is holding me hostage, so i think you're going to have to do it."

tsukishima rolls his eyes, untangling his arms from your body. "problem solved." he holds back a smile when you frown and pull the blankets away from him, turning your back towards him. you're so cute. tsukishima would do anything you ask of him without hesitation, but he can't help but tease you a bit first. he'll never get tired of your reactions, and he loves that he can be a little snarky with you.

you sigh again, this time louder and more pointed, pretending to shiver just to show your husband how cold you really are, and how cruel he is for not helping. "if only someone could hold me right now...", you trailed off.

"ok, do you want me to help you or not?" he finally gives in, getting up to reach for his glasses. you win, as usual. you turn back to face him again with a smile as bright as sunshine, and despite all of the years you've been together, his heart still stops for a second. wow. okay, maybe he is obsessed with you, but he can't help it. you've clearly worked your magic on him, considering the fact that he's getting out of the bed for you when he has to be awake in a few hours. he goes to close the windows with a firm click, walking back to his side of bed.

"kei...since you're already up...", he looks back to see your guilty smile, an empty mug in your hands. "please? last thing, i swear." he give you a look that reads, "you're lucky i love you." (you know you're the luckiest person in the world.)

he takes your mug and you hear his quiet footsteps making their way to the kitchen. he comes back, handing you a mug full of warm water. once you take a sip, he takes the mug from you again, placing it on your nightstand.

"i poisoned that," he quips, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before finally lying down and snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. the only reason he hates getting out of bed is that he has to let go of you, but he doesn't need to say that. he's sure you already know.

[seungkw1]

white t-shirt — csc

💿🎧 white t-shirt - jonghyun 🎶🤍

♡ pairing: bf!seungcheol x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], pwp ♡ wc: 2.3k ♡ warnings: dom!cheol, sub!reader, size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), nipple play, creampie, dacryphilia, sexting, brief wrist pinning (f. receiving), gendered petnames (good girl, babygirl) ♡ a/n: i went insane no fewer than 15 times while writing this. hope u enjoy <3

1:32am

You didn't mean to rile up your boyfriend when you sent him that picture. 

It was late at night. You should've been asleep already, but the bed felt empty without him. Seungcheol had only been gone for a few days, off on a trip with the boys, but you missed him. Normally, you spend your nights trying to escape from his immense body heat - an impossible task, as he insists on clinging onto you, wrapping his strong arms around you, holding you tight against him as he drifts off to sleep. But you're having a hard time sleeping without his touch. 

It's only one more night, you remind yourself. He'll be back tomorrow. But it isn't helping. 

So in his absence, you do the next best thing you can: put on one of his t-shirts. 

The shirt is thin, a simple plain white tee, buttery soft, and most importantly - it feels like him. You plop back into bed, cozying up under the sheets, ready to sleep. However, his scent against your skin is arousing, and you find yourself longing for him even more. Your hand leisurely slips downward, resting between your inner thighs. The coolness of your skin contrasts with the heat radiating from between your legs. You try to resist, but your fingertips drift toward your core. They arrive at the delicate fabric of your underwear, just barely grazing over your clothed slit. You inhale sharply - you knew you were wet, but the sticky spot that has formed reveals just how fucking much you need him right now. Your middle finger ever so slightly presses against your clit, your other hand moving to your breasts, lightly pinching your hardening nipples through your borrowed shirt. You let out a quiet whimper. As turned on as you are, you'd love to get yourself off, but you don't want to do it yourself. You want Seungcheol here, touching you, worshiping your body with his fingers, his mouth, his tongue. You feel your cunt throb at the mere thought of him. 

You sigh. Rolling over, you reach to grab your phone. You didn't want to bother him too much while he was with his friends, but your neediness is winning right now. 

You open up your messages. You click the top thread, labeled “Cheollie ❤️”, and open up the selfie camera. It's dark, but the moonlight seeping through the curtains illuminates you just enough. You position the phone above you, placing your body in full view. Your nipples poke through the thin, sheer fabric, showing off your tits nicely. You lift the shirt up slightly, revealing your tummy, but also displaying the visible wet spot spreading on your panties. Perfect. 

The screen flashes as you hit the shutter button. You type out a quick message.

missing you babe 😘

You hit send. You don't even know if he's even awake at this point, but almost immediately the typing bubble pops up. He types for a good minute, then the typing stops. But no message. You wait, staring at the screen, another minute passing before he starts typing again. Finally, a response. 

you can't just send me a picture like that out of nowhere. look what you've done.

His message is followed by a slightly blurry photo: him, in the bathroom mirror, pants hastily unbuttoned and boxers shoved aside, his thick cock fully erect. 

Another message follows. 

we were in the middle of a game. i had to run off and hide because of you. 

You grin, pleased with yourself. You wanted to tease your boyfriend, make him excited to come home to you. Instead, you've made him incredibly horny - and you want to see just how far you can push him. 

i take it you like the pic then? ;)

brat. i saw how wet you are. you need me that bad babygirl? so desperate for my cock that you can't even wait til i'm home tomorrow?

i need you babe, i wanna cum so bad 

don’t you dare, love. wait for me. 

i’ll be waiting ❤️

good. no touching yourself. only i’m allowed to make you cum.

You say goodnight, then and roll over - but you're certainly not sleepy now. Your mind wanders, thinking of your boyfriend, fantasizing about how good he's going to fuck you tomorrow. 

You pull up your phone one last time to check the time, calculating the hours until he’ll be back - far too many. 

It's going to be a long night. 

—

3:34pm

Your eyes are glued to the little gray circle with a C on it as it gets closer and closer to your apartment on the map. Cheol is almost home. 

Thank fuck. If you have to wait any longer, you’re simply going to explode. 

You reread the text he sent you earlier in the day:

omw home baby, i'll be there in a couple hours. wait in bed for me, wear the same thing as last night.

So here you are, laying on the bed, in nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear, which you can already feel getting wet again. You've been obedient, ignoring every urge in your body to touch yourself - but that's only made you even hornier. 

Finally, you hear the jingle of keys as the front door unlocks. You hear your boyfriend enter, taking off his shoes and setting down his things. Then - footsteps, growing louder as he approaches the bedroom. He slowly pushes the slightly-ajar door, standing in the doorway and taking in the sight of you, nearly naked, waiting for him in bed - just like he told you to. He gazes down at you, practically licking his lips, his eyes brimming with desire. You give him your best doe eyes as he saunters toward the bed. 

“Such a good girl for me, doing exactly as I told you,” he praises as he takes your face in one hand, rubbing your cheek gently. You say nothing, but tug at his arms, trying to pull him onto the bed - but he resists, standing tall as he stares lustfully into your eyes.  

“Oh, but you're still in trouble for what you did to me last night.”

You bite your lip as you grin, beaming at how much you managed to provoke him with only a single suggestive photo. Before he can stop you, you slip your hand onto the thick bulge in his sweatpants. He groans as you stroke his cock through his clothes; he lets you do so a few more times, savoring the sensation, before grabbing you by the wrist - pinning you to the bed as he climbs on top of you. He interlaces his fingers with yours as he holds you down, locking lips with you as he kisses you with aching necessity. His soft, plush lips tug at yours as he places his weight on you, pressing his hardened cock into your core. You cry out as his erection rubs gently against your clit, giving you the stimulation you've been craving. 

“Cheol,” you moan under your breath. “Missed you so much.”

He kisses your neck, humming in your ear. “I know, baby.”

His lips trail down your neck, sucking tenderly at your skin, until he reaches your breasts. He takes one in each hand, squeezing them as his thumbs repeatedly brush against your perked nipples. He positions his mouth right above one of them - you feel the warmth of his breath before he latches on, sucking gently on the bud through the thin t-shirt. You moan softly as his tongue creates a wet spot upon the fabric, making your nipple even more visible. He rubs the first nipple again as his mouth moves to your other boob, sucking more intensely as you begin to wriggle underneath him. He takes his time, going back and forth between each bud. 

“Cheollie,” you whine, “gonna cum already if you keep doing that.”

His mouth pops as he unlatches, glancing up at you amorously and giving you a sly grin. You are putty in his hands at the slightest touch - and it turns him on so badly. 

He tugs at the shirt - you lift your body off the bed, allowing him to pull it off of you. Throwing it aside hastily, he returns to your now-bare tits, kissing and licking them some more before his lips continue down your body, planting deep kisses on your stomach. He arrives at your cunt, situating himself comfortably between your legs, ready to devour you. His tongue licks a fat stripe over the growing wet spot on your underwear, the lightest of touch causing your back to arch slightly. He sucks on your clit through the fabric a few times before he grabs your underwear, pulling them off of you hastily, your soaked cunt now exposed and ready for him to eat.

He wraps his arms around your thighs as his tongue meets your pussy, licking up and down your folds. You whimper as he swirls around your clit, kissing and softly sucking on the sensitive bud. He slips his tongue into your cunt, pushing its way into your hole - his nose pressing deliciously against your clit as he tastes all of you, the vibrations from his moans making you see stars. You place your hand on his head, running your fingers through his hair as he goes down on you, your grasp growing stronger the more intensely his tongue works against your cunt. As you pull his hair he begins to grind into the mattress, needing relief from how painfully hard he’s become. He worships your pussy, eating you out as if it was his last meal on earth, savoring every drop of your juices as you writhe under him, overwhelming pleasure pulsing through your entire body. 

“Cheollie, ‘m gonna cum.”

He removes his face from your cunt, taunting you with his lips hovering just above your clit. You lift your hips, trying to put your pussy back in his mouth, but instead he slips two fingers into you. You cry out as he curls his fingertips upward, reaching your g-spot with ease. He keeps pressing the sweet spot as he slides in and out of you, his thick fingers stretching you out as he fucks you.

Not as much as his cock is going to stretch you out, your subconscious reminds you. 

“Please,” you whine, looking down at him, “need your mouth on me.”

He glances up at you, his big brown eyes meeting yours, drunk with lust. 

“Beg for it.”

“Please baby.”

“Please what?”

“Please make me cum.”

He smirks at the sight of you, tears welling in your eyes as you plead desperately for his touch. 

“My baby’s so pretty like this,” he coos, his bottom lip brushing lightly against your pulsating bud. 

You yelp as he dives back into you, his mouth latching onto your clit as his hand increases its pace, his other hand pressing against your tummy. Any remaining thoughts in your head vanish - your mind overtaken by pleasure, overtaken by him. You scream his name out as the white-hot sensation in your stomach builds, your body starting to tremble as your orgasm takes over. Seungcheol continues sucking your throbbing bud as you cum on his fingers, shaking from the powerful rush of dopamine exploding through your body. You’ve never cum this fucking hard in your life. 

You haven’t even caught your breath by the time he crawls up on top of you, his cock lined up with your entrance. You moan as he slides the head inside, your drenched walls stretching around his size. He slowly begins to thrust into you, filling you up, your pussy taking his entire length with each stroke. His body presses against yours as he buries his head into your neck, his cock pumping into you, fucking you deeper with each stroke. He groans as you tighten around him, his voice low and gravelly in your ear as his orgasm draws nearer.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, “pussy so perfect for me, fuuuck…”

Tears stream down the side of your face as you take his cock. Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him - sending him over the edge.

“Please,” you beg, “cum inside me."

“Oh god,” he moans, his body beginning to tremble as he bucks his hips into you. “I’m cumming baby…”

His cock throbs in your cunt as he releases. You whimper as he fills your pussy up, his hot ropes shooting up into you. He slows his pace, coming to a stop as he comes down, his still-twitching cock resting inside you. His lips tenderly suck at the delicate skin on your neck as you wrap your arms around his broad torso, squeezing his body into yours as tightly as you can. Eventually, he lifts his head, his face meeting yours with a kiss on the lips. He gazes at you, enamored. You lay there, breathing deeply together as you recover from your highs.

Seungcheol strokes your hair softly. “God I missed you.”

“Don't leave me ever again,” you pout playfully. 

“I can’t,” he replies, shaking his head. “Not if you’re gonna send me pictures like that. I nearly came in my pants.”

You grin lazily at him, head still spinning from your orgasm. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

Cheol kisses you again, cradling your face in his hand. He grabs onto you as he rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You feel his cum dripping out of you, spilling onto his still-erect cock. He grabs you by the hips, pulling you toward his face. 

“C’mere,” he instructs, licking his lips at the sight of you about to straddle his face. “I'm not done with you yet.”

—

[tragedy-of-commons]

"You're burning up" + Aventurine?

"You're burning up."

Aventurine doesn't know what else to say, so he goes with those three words. Safe bet - the doting parents in all the movies and sitcoms say it just like that; with care and worry, palm splayed out across the ill's forehead.

And holy hell are you ill.

Collapsed on his lavish sofa, you groan in response, swatting his hand away. "I'm gonna be just fine..."

He's inclined to disagree. You're sweating buckets despite how he'd mashed the thermostat down to its limit - he even had to shrug on a jacket. Perhaps Aventurine would have poked fun at you for your intolerance, but he has enough decorum to hold his tongue. He really doesn't like seeing you so put out, as much as you're welcome to crash here.

"Your poker face could use some work. Save your words, we can hang out another time," he dismisses easily, bracing himself for your incoming opposition. He reluctantly breaks away from your side to amble over to the coffee table, beginning to clean up the remnants of game night.

"No way," in the corner of his eye, he notices you shifting restlessly, "finals are coming up. Won't have time after this..."

Aventurine sighs, sweeping his very nice clay chips into one hand while using the other to click open their case. This time of year, things become almost unbearably hectic. He has exams coming up in a few weeks himself, and though he never needs to study, he always adheres to your modus operandi of 'cram now, cry later'.

"Well, you're not going back to those dorms in that state."

"You sound like a dickhead," you murmur. "You think I wanna live there? Shitty thin walls... shitty dining hall food..."

He chuckles, snapping the case shut and dusting his hands of nonexistent dust. "You're cruder than usual when you're feverish."

Aventurine almost startles when you gasp. "I have a fever?!"

...and you're loopy, too.

He gets you to sit still with the promise of retrieving a fever reducer and some water. Aventurine roots through his bathroom cabinets, combing through his own extensive collection of self-care and skin products to reach where he keeps his medication.

It takes several minutes of crouching down on the tile for him to realize he doesn't have any. He clicks his tongue - well, it seems his own lifestyle has backfired on him once again. Aventurine doesn't get sick often, doesn't spend a lot of time at home, and has enough stubborn resilience to power through any ailment that might plague him.

But for you? The only reason he spends any time at all in this stupidly expensive penthouse?

Yeah, he'll make a quick trip to the drugstore.

When he walks back into the living room with his shoes on and wallet in his pocket, his heart warms. You've somehow slipped into an upside down position, hair spilling over the edge of the cushions. You somehow make it look comfortable, eyes closed and brow free of any creases.

"Does that help your sinuses?" he asks, really only to test if you're awake.

"You smell good..."

Aventurine ignores how those words make him feel, eyeing the door (and where your shoes are lined up neatly against the wall).

"I have to restock on Tylenol," he swallows. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

"Yes," you respond coherently this time.

Before he departs, he cajoles you into another position in case you throw up like that and end up choking - not without some strangely endearing complaints that you'd normally never voice, positive thing you are.

He doesn't get to the inside mat before you pipe up again, making him stop in his tracks.

"C'mere," you cough. "Please, humor a dying star's last wish..."

He really should be going so he can get your temperature down quicker, but leaving you on the sofa while you're about to cough up a lung strikes him as cruel. Aventurine gives into your dramatics - which happen to perfectly align with his own at times - and makes his way over to you.

"What is it? Did I forget something?" he sits down on the armrest, perching there with perfect balance. When you don't respond immediately, an odd little expression on your face, he rests his chin on his fist, pensive.

You hum.

He doesn't expect much; a request for another pillow, a plea for him to turn on a movie for you while he's out. Instead, he's caught off-guard as you throw an arm around his waist and pull, effectively whisking him off the high ground and right into your grasp.

Aventurine initially tenses but settles as you nuzzle closer. You're the only person in the world that can get away with loving him so easily.

"M'sorry I got sick on game night..." you whisper, uncaring that you're spreading your sickness (and your homely oxytocin).

He finds himself not caring much either.

"Do you believe me to be that hung up on you catching a cold?"

Aventurine's heart rabbits cruelly - he's sure you can hear it, with the way you're snuggled against him and whatnot, but maybe he'll get lucky like he always has, and you'll remain oblivious and perfect and unbothered, despite what you do to him.

You sniffle, words thick with exhaustion. "I dunno. Just stay."

He can't. Not just because he has to go pick up that Tylenol, but because he feels like he might die if you keep saying things like that.

"Five minutes," he acquiesces.

Aventurine waits for your celebration of victory, but no such thing comes. You're fast asleep, clinging to him like he's worth something.

He stays for a lot longer than five minutes, only wriggling out of your arms when he's sure you won't wake up to find him gone. When he returns later with his spoils (which also just so happen to include your favorite drink), you're cradling a pillow in his place.

Before Aventurine is your boyfriend or lover, he is a liar.

He is most definitely, unequivocally, one hundred percent hung up on you.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: modern au because i couldn't possibly resist. just wanted to mention here that u guys absolutely killed it with these quotes. you have my gratitude! also why is he like that. soggy wet cat

event post here

[nonranghaes]

there's bliss in taking a vacation with you. seungcheol hasn't even opened his eyes yet, but he feels the way the bed dips underneath your weight as you turn over to look at him. he feels the feather-light way you brush messy strands of hair from his face, thinking he's still asleep as you watch him. it's not like he hasn't done the same thing countless times: sometimes he wakes up before you do, and he just... watches you sleep for a moment, enjoying a moment of serenity before you both have to face the real world again. the beauty of a vacation is that the real world is just a little farther away now, all responsibilities pushed a little further out of reach.

your lips graze his cheek, your hand resting on his chest now, idly running over the dips in his skin around his collarbones, between his pecs. "i think i see a gray hair... ooooh, you're getting ooooold..."

and that peaceful moment comes crashing down around him as he begins to laugh. he opens his eyes to see you, blinking a few times as they adjust to the light. "really?" he says, shoulders shaking as he holds back the urge to laugh more at the oh-so-romantic way you've decided to wake him up on his birthday. "that's what you're going with?"

"did you think i was going to sit here and say sappy things?" you grin at him. "that's for later." with a playful swat to his side, you just move in so you're closer to him. "pretending to be asleep just to see what i'd say... i think your friends are gonna love to hear about that one."

despite the loving threat of his friends poking fun at him looming over him now, he laughs. he manages to grab your wrist, drawing your hand up so that he can kiss your knuckles. "you spend time with some of them and see if you come away without any gray hairs."

"no need." you hum, content. "i have you."

it takes a moment for the realization to set in before he's complaining again. but your laughter makes the moment sweeter, so happy with yourself for being a menace on his birthday of all days. maybe he should have expected this: you did wake him up at midnight just to mumble a 'happy birthday' to him and some other sickly sweet things before you fell asleep again. now that you're awake... of course you'd settle on teasing him.

but that's fine. as long as he gets to wake up to hear that laugh again, he'll always be happy. he'll just pepper your face with kisses in the meantime, staving off the hardships of life just a little longer (but he knows he can bear it all with you around).

[thinkofahappyplace]

♡ Nightmares

✎ w/ Luffy, Ace, Sabo ✎ ANGST ✎ Synopsis: he wakes up from a nightmare about you

♡ Luffy Luffy jolted awake, finding himself in a dark room with sweat-soaked blankets. His heart beat was erratic as he looked around, picturing your tear streaked cheeks and scared, pleading eyes. Your cabin. He throws his blankets off and stumbles out of his hammock, paying no mind to the complaints of others and making a beeline for the door. The cold air bites his cheeks and suddenly the sheet of sweat covering his body is like ice, but he hurries on. He pauses when he gets to your door, placing his hand on the knob and bracing himself, not completely convincing himself he'll find your sleeping form when he opens it. Inhaling the icy air in a quick breath, Luffy opens the door and a small rectangle of light falls on the sleeping forms of his crew. His eyes immediately find your body, knee poking out of the covers and hair spread across your pillow like a web. Slowly, Luffy makes his way to your bedside, pulling the covers back slightly and slipping in beside you. You move towards his warmth and he accepts you into his arms and sweeps his hands tenderly over your back, hands slipping beneath your shirt to press the pads of his fingers against your warm skin. He closes his eyes and sighs against the crown of your head, heart slowing and body falling weak with exhaustion.

♡ Ace Ace jolted awake, looking around at the dark room lit only by rays of dim moonlight through the windows. He's in his cabin. Where are you?Whipping his head to the side where you had fallen asleep the night before, he finds a pile of blankets messily pushed off him. Where are you? His heart spikes in his chest and his stomach drops, he thinks he might puke. Where are you?! He shoots to his knees, frantically looking around the dark room in vain, he grabs at the sheets under him in frustration, breath getting caught in his throat as a million idea of what could be happening to you swim through his head. The sheets shuffle, he freezes. He grabs at the pile of blankets and pulls at them, locating your sleeping form which he'd accidentally covered when pushing the sweat-soaked sheets off his body. The moonlight outlined your silhouette and Ace felt like he'd been splashed with cold water, the sweat on his forehead turning icy in the cold room. He sits like this for awhile, watching your chest rise and fall with your breath, watching your eyes twitch. Ace wants to reach out and touch you as if you were a jewel-encrusted display at a museum, but he's afraid if he lays a finger on you you'll shatter and be lost in the sheets. You turn over and throw your hand over to where he'd be sleeping, clutching at empty air, and Ace finally moves. Reaching his hand down ever so slowly, so carefully, he lays his fingertips on your hand like he's trying not to break a surface of water. He runs his fingers up your arm, slowly, pressing more of his hand to your skin, feeling the warmth against his own. Ace slides his feet back under the covers and pulls them up to his waist, he takes you by the waist and pulls you flush against him, inhaling the scent of your hair.

He stares at the wall and listens to the sound of your breath, he swears he can feel your heart beat against his. ♡ Sabo Sabo sits panting among messed sheets, chest heaving up and down as your scream echoes through the corridors in his mind. Sweat beads his skin and he raises a hand to push his hair back. His feet appear out from under the covers and upon feeling the cold floor Sabo hunches and lets his mind fall into place. He searches through the anxiety and anger, fear and confusion, and finds that his body is craving you. Like when you get the gnawing idea you forgot something at home, he has the gnawing idea he'll search for you and find nothing but anguish. He grabs the glass of water on his nightstand, gulping it in seconds as stray streams run down his throat. Setting the glass down and throwing on his jacket and shoes, he hurries out the door. Having a mission, you were supposed to get back at one-thirty and it's almost two-thirty, you should be in your room. Sabo nearly runs down the hall, almost running into someone rounding a corner, and knocks quickly on your door. His heart pounds against his ribcage and he feels like his head is foggy with worries, what will he do if you don't open up? You should be back, why wouldn't you be back? Where are you? What if-- the door opens and you peer up the blond man. His eyes are bloodshot and wide with fear, face flushed and sick-looking. Before you can even comprehend what's happening, Sabo pushes you back through the door and pushes it shut behind, shoving his lips against yours as he guides you further into the small room. You put your hands up on his chest and push him back gently, confused and worried. Asking him what's wrong, he stutters out, "I- I- You were- You-" and you wrap your arms around him, cradling the back of his head with one hand as he hurries his head in your neck. He starts taking deep breaths, clinging to you. After a few moments, you feel his body lose some tension and he lets out a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, I just got worried you weren't back...", he says sheepishly, panic being replaced by embarrassment. You think it's sweet, but you hate how worked up he was and how scared he looked "Sleep here tonight," you say quietly and he relaxes more against you, raising his head and pressing his lips against your forehead.

[just-wrting]

Feeling Fangs

Title: Feeling Fangs

Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: You find out what your husband has been hiding from you after he loses against Straw Hat, but you find yourself fixating on how pretty he is without his scarf.

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: My bf won't let me read about this man because I'm not far enough in the anime so I'll just write about him instead. And read about him but my bf doesn't have to know that part yet. He's worried about spoilers but what spoilers am I gonna get from all that smut? Also I just like men with fangs.

You didn't particularly care who one this little war that broke out, as long as your husband is fine. There's no doubt in your mind that he'll survive, you just don't want to see him hurt. Sure, the two of you have never really been romantic or anything, your marriage was somewhat political, but you've grown fond of him. So when his little sister is kneeling on the street saying he lost, your heart drops.

"Brulee, get me in there," you hiss in her ear. "I need to make sure he's okay."

There's tears in her eyes as she looks at you quizzically. "How did you get here?"

"This isn't the time for that. Let me in the mirror dimension."

She nods quickly and lets you through. Her steps are hesitant as she follows behind you. You make note of the chefs slumped against a wall, curious as to who killed them. It doesn't matter to you as you stumble closer to your husband.

It's the first time you've seen him like this. Even when it's time to sleep, he's still awake, sitting up in bed doing who knows what as you drift off. Right now, he's asleep on his back with a hat on his face. You quickly locate his scarf next to a group of people, ignoring them.

You've never seen him without his scarf, but you figure out that everyone here has. The chefs must've seen him without it, so he's the one who killed them. Everyone else must've passed out from something in the battle, but they've all seen him too.

"Brulee, tie up everyone here. It doesn't matter who they are, I want them unable to leave," you say in a low voice. "If you fail to do this, I won't forgive you."

While she follows your orders, you crouch down to rewrap his scarf. You make sure to hide his face from view as you carefully lift the hat. Biting your lip in anticipation, you do your best to not wake him. As you unveil his full face, you feel yourself get flustered.

Poking out from his lips are four shiny fangs. You do your best to not reach out and touch them, wondering how sharp they are. You expected something frightening under the scarf, but Katakuri is actually just as pretty as you thought he was. You don't know how you lucked out to get him, but you'll think about that later.

You make quick work with his scarf, noticing he's missing his jacket. You'll have to look for it later, your focus needs to be on finding Pudding. It doesn't matter that she's rude to you, what matters is her ability. You had overheard it in passing, but her ability to manipulate memories is what makes her the key.

"Let's go, I need to find Pudding."

Thankfully, you can see her hiding on the other side of the mirror you came in. It might take a moment to run and get her, but you'll put yourself through whatever you need to. The most important thing to you is wiping everyone's memory of what Katakuri looks like.

You dash through the fight, weaving your way through both enemies and the Big Mom pirates. Ducking down next to Pudding, you catch your breath for just a moment while she stares starry eyed at someone.

"Sanji..." she mumbles before glaring at you. "What do you want?"

"I need you to alter some memories for me."

She gives you an evil smile. "Why would I do that? Just because you're my big brother's wife doesn't mean I'll help you."

You frown. "I won't tell anyone that you've fallen in love with Sanji and most likely helped him escape."

"What?! You have no proof!"

You pull her up and start dragging her behind you. "I may not have concrete proof, but I'm not stupid. Besides, your reaction is my proof."

She grumbles something about you being an ass, but she follows you.

"You also need to wipe some of Brulee's memory.  If you tell anyone what you saw in them, I'll tell everyone that you helped Sanji escape. Do you understand?"

She nods. "Alright, I understand. Why what did they see?"

You set your jaw. "At the very least, they saw Katakuri without his scarf. I'm not sure what else they saw."

You watch over her shoulder as she shoves her hand into people's memories. It's a little gross, but it'll get the job done. It's better to threaten one person over a dozen.

There's a moment where Luffy slips and falls, gaining a large wound in his stomach due to being numbed. After finding out why, you watch Katakuri stab himself and pull off his scarf. It's nice to see a pirate try to have a fair fight, giving you a bit more insight as to what your husband is actually like.

"I guess it's a bit weird that he didn't want help if he couldn't defeat Straw Hat, but it doesn't make him lame. Those idiots don't realize they're the lame ones," Pudding grumbles. "Do you think Sanji has the same idea?"

You shrug. "It seems like his captain does at least so probably. Do I look like Sanji?"

Pudding scowls. "Shut up. Let me do this."

You don't miss the days when you'd have mood swings about men. That's the one good thing about having an arranged marriage, you don't have to worry about your feelings for other people.

"Mirrors, are any of you in an intact room? One with a big bed and access to water."

One a little ways away responds, and you look back at your passed out husband. You don't know how you're getting him there. Maybe you should've thought about that ahead of time, but it doesn't matter now. You can figure it out, you always do.

—-

It's been at least one day since you dragged him into bed, and Katakuri has yet to wake up. You can feel yourself dozing off every time you sit down, so you do your best to stay occupied. You prepare food, make sure you have enough water to wipe him down and let him drink, and constantly rearranging things. On one hand you want him to wake up so you know he's not in a coma, on the other hand you want him to get as much rest as he needs.

What you want doesn't matter, as you hear him wake up suddenly with a gasp. In your shock, you drop the plate you were holding.

"There's no need to wake up so aggressively, Katakuri. You're safe," you reassure as you pick up the bigger pieces of the plate. "How are you feeling?"

"How did I end up here? What did you see?" His voice is low, almost threatening.

You dump the bigger pieces in the trash and start sweeping. "We can talk about that later. You should have some water and eat. Then you should go back to sleep. I patched you up as well as I can, but I'm not a doctor."

He starts to pull the covers off, giving you a harsh look. "What did you-"

You dump the dustpan's contents into the trash before setting the broom to the side. "Like I said, it can wait. No offense, but you don't particularly scare me when you're ripping open your wounds."

His face goes a bit red as you tell him off. You want him to feel better before you deal with any other matters. That includes the talk of whether he'll choose to kill you for seeing his face.

"I made you some food, so just sit up."

Thankfully, he obeys. Katakuri doesn't even protest as you feed him. You make sure to avert your eyes, just for his comfort. He seems to be extremely hungry, eating all the food you've made. By the time it's all gone, he looks tired again.

"Get some more sleep, I'll lock the door. I wanted to be awake when you woke up, but now that that has happened, I can sleep."

He watches as you turn the lock and slide the broom handle through the loops of the door handles. You do the same with the window, shoving a fire poker through the handle before closing the curtains once more. Giving each of them a tug, you feel satisfied when nothing clatters to the ground.

"When did you sleep?" Katakuri asks, watching you intently. "You look..."

"Terrible, I know. I don't think I've slept since before the tea party, though. I'd have to think about it."

You crawl into the other side of the bed. It's a bit small, but leaning against him makes it a bit more comfortable. Despite your efforts, you find yourself dozing off before making sure he sleeps. There's no way he's getting out of the bed though, you've managed to lay on his arm.

—-

By the time you wake up, Katakuri is fast asleep. For what must be the first time ever, he's got his arm around you, holding you close. You watch him for just a moment, admiring how pretty he is. You want to reach up and play with his hair, but you ignore that feeling and try to wiggle from his grasp.

Even with how battered he is, you find it difficult to free yourself. You knew he was strong, ridiculously so, but you didn't realize he's just this strong. After freeing yourself, you feel exhausted again.

Thankfully, Pudding has left another basket of food for you, complete with an angry note about how she's not your delivery girl and if she's going to bring you stuff you need to be there. You roll your eyes and throw away the note. If she had important things to say, she can say them to your face.

You help yourself to an apple, crunching away as you try to figure out what to make. It would be nice if you could access a bigger kitchen with more ingredients, but this will have to do. Hopefully it's enough food, you've seen the size of  the food he eats.

With a sigh, you give up. Exhaustion still flows through you, so you focus on things that don't require a lot of thought. So you eat and wash the dishes, making sure to be as quiet as possible. It's better for him to wake up naturally, not due to you being a jerk.

Once there's nothing more to do, you make your way to the bed. You check the wounds, letting the smaller and scabbed ones breathe. Almost all of his injuries have stopped bleeding, you just can't check the one you're most worried about. He needs to wake up for you to take a look.

As you reach towards his head, his hand shoots up and grabs your wrist tightly. You wince in pain, surprised at how tight his grip is.

"What are you doing?"

You tug on his fingers. "Checking the scrape on your forehead. I want to make sure it closed up."

He cautiously releases you. "Don't do anything else."

You click your tongue against your teeth. "Have some more faith in me, Katakuri. I'm your wife, I have no ill intentions."

"We need to talk."

You start unwrapping the dressing. "What do you want to know?"

Katakuri breaks eye contact with you. "What happened after I lost?"

"Well, we lost. I dragged you out of here with some help."

"What about the others in the mirror dimension? What happened to them?"

The blood that makes up the scab also goes into his hairline, so you make a note to bathe with him so it doesn't open. "Those chefs are dead. Your little sister and her stupid fan club on the other hand are alive."

"Where are they now?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "What about the cam-snails?"

"I have no idea where they went after they woke up. I collected the cam-snails though, they're in a bag here."

His hand makes its way to your thigh, holding you down. "What did you see? What did you do?"

"I put your scarf on, tied everyone up, and made Pudding alter their memories. Straw Hat knows, but based on how I found you, I don't think that matters."

"How did you-"

You give a small smirk. "Poor little Pudding was so against marriage, but she ended up falling in love with that Sanji boy. I told her that I would keep it a secret if she kept yours. I'm telling you in case you choose to... you know."

His other hand pulls down his scarf. "So you know. And you're still here?"

Satisfied with the head scrape, you pull back a bit. "Of course. You're injured, where else would I be?"

"Aren't you afraid?" He pulls his face into a scowl. "Don't you think-"

Your eyes flutter shut as you lean forward and kiss him. It's nothing romantic, just a quick press of your lips on his, but you pull away flustered.

"Why did you do that?" His eyes are wide.

You blink in surprise. "Why did I do that?"

"How would I know, I'm not-"

You lean forward and kiss him again. His lips are soft, and when you lick your own after pulling away, you find them sweet.

"What are you-" You cut him off again with a kiss.

"This plan isn't-" Even after a fourth kiss, you can't stop.

Before he says anymore, he grabs your face in both hands. "Stop whatever nonsense this is. What are you trying to do?"

You've never seen Katakuri look like this. His face is flushed and his eyes are wide.

"I just really wanted to do that."

It’s now his turn to blink in shock. “Why?”

“You’re just…” You look away, knowing that your face is burning up. “Katakuri, you’re so pretty.”

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you intensely. You’re worried he’s upset, you did just keep interrupting him with kisses, but that thought is dashed within seconds as he pulls you into a kiss.

His tongue pushes past your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth. Even when you try to take control of the kiss, it takes him no effort to keep you in place. His tongue overpowering yours and exploring your mouth, filling your taste buds with sweetness.

Due to the size difference, his tongue fills your mouth, eagerly searching every part of your mouth. You can’t help the dirty thoughts that start to fill your mind, thinking of other ways he could use his tongue. All you can focus on is how sweet he tastes and how much you enjoy kissing him.

You’re completely breathless once he pulls away, panting as you try to breathe. Through half lidded eyes, you watch him recover. His face is somehow even more flushed and he’s looking at your lips. Without thinking, you blurt out the first thing to come to mind.

“Katakuri, can you bite me? Please?”

His thumb brushes softly against your cheek. “Are you sure you want that?”

You rub your cheek into his palm, letting out a soft hum. “Please?”

Titling your head to the side, you expose your neck. You have no idea why you want him to bite you so badly, you just do. If he tells you no, you won’t ask again, you just want to experience it this once.

The hand on your other cheek slides down to your shoulder. You feel his warm breath on your neck, and you bite your lip in anticipation. At first, he just presses a soft kiss to your neck, carefully holding you like you might break. Then, without warning, you feel his teeth sink into your neck.

You let out a gasp, and your hand grips his shoulder. It’s not a harsh bite, just the very tips of his fangs. The only pain you feel is the initial breaking of your skin, but once that passes, you feel flushed and warm. It’s really doing something for you, and you don’t want him to stop.

“Did that hurt?” Katakuri asks, pulling away at your gasp.

You draw a shaky breath as he licks the marks on your skin. “You drew blood. That’ll always hurt, but I’m fine.”

He hums softly as he makes sure you’re not bleeding anymore. His touch is gentle and light, and you let out a groan as he traces invisible patterns into your skin. You want more, and you lace your hand in his hair.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. You pull away from Katakuri, adjusting your shirt to cover the mark. You wait for him to pull his scarf back up straight under his nose. There’s still a dusting of pink across the tips of his ears, but he doesn’t look as flustered with his scarf up.

He nods, and you open the door. Pudding stands there with her arms crossed, pouting. She pushes past you, dumping a bunch of stuff on table.

“Here’s everything you asked for, don’t ask me for stuff again. You can start getting it yourself!” She puts her hands on her hips. “I’ve done what you wanted for the past three days. I’m done!”

Katakuri moves to get out of the bed, but you wave him down. Both of the siblings deserve their rest. That’s the only thing you should focus on.

“Thank you Pudding. Go get some rest, we’ll be okay.”

She looks surprised, before huffing. “Of course I’m going to get rest. I deserve it.”

She gives you another dirty look before storming out. It’s like a whirlwind came in, scolded you, and left. You don’t really care. She did her best to help you, so you can cut her some slack.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that.”

You close the door and lock it once more. “It’s fine. Everyone is under stress right now, including you. You should get some more sleep if you can.”

Katakuri tugs his scarf off, letting it rest on the floor. You want to go fluster him again, but you just stay still. Seeing him like this, battered and bruised, makes your heart ache.

“Are you going to sleep as well?”

You give him a soft smile. “Do you want me to come and get more sleep?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes as he answers. “It’s your choice.”

You walk over and place your hand on his cheeks, making him look at you. “Do you need me next to you for you to sleep?”

Unfortunately, you seem to have pushed him just far enough to annoy him. He gives you a stern look as he wraps his arms around you. Even though he’s annoyed, he’s gentle as he pulls you on top of him.

You squirm slightly in a halfhearted attempt to get him to let you go. His grip is iron tight, and he has no intention of letting you go. This is the first time he’s ever insisted on having you sleep next to him, and it makes you feel warm inside.

Once you stop moving, his grip looses just enough for you to get a bit more comfortable. You lay your head on his chest, closing your eyes to listen to his heart beat. It’s relaxing, and you feel yourself get drowsy. You know it’s all over, when he starts to rub your back.

There’s the sound of his saying something, but you fail to catch it as you fall asleep. You don’t even notice the soft kiss he presses to your head while you drift off.

[crookedteethed]

18+ porn link

⋆ ★ reader holding rafe while he pees

Rafe would probably kill you if anyone ever found out, but its always a little past midnight; between the time of yesterday and tomorrow, you'd be sleeping while Rafe would be hovering over you with the persistent itch burning his bladder, again. 

He'll nudge you in your forearm or poke you in your cheek until you're slurring awake, crawling away from the land of dreams. 

"I have to pee." He says in an implorable tone disguised in his usual directorial one. 

He always says that 'he has to pee' or 'c'mon' and then nudges his head towards the bathroom; it's never "I need your help" Because he hates to admit that he, Rafe Cameron, needs help doing something so self-explanatory.

God, he's so needy, you think, looking at his imploring gaze that was only made visible because of the moonlight outside. 

Nonetheless, Rafe's neediness typically got your body hot purely because you were certain you were the only one who ever saw that needy side of him. 

It started as a curiosity thing for you, always being fascinated and excited by the flow of urine that spurted from dicks.

The first time you asked to hold him while he peed, you didn't think Rafe would agree, but to your dismay. 

He said he liked the company. 

That's why he always takes you to the bathroom with him (or follows you when you need to go). 

As you both get up, you don't say a word to each other, the only sound coming from the pitter-patter of your feet walking on wood floors. 

Rafe gets in the bathroom before you, standing over the open toilet lid, imploring eyes never left you since he stirred you out of your sleep. 

"Don't squeeze too hard." He reminded you as you started to untie the tie of his flannel pajama pants and put them down just enough to release his cock. 

There is when you pulled out his warm, limp, flaccid cock, your slender fingers wrapping around his length. You aimed at the center of the toilet bowl, and that's when Rafe went, letting out a long-awaited desperate sigh. 

It was always the sound that got that pit in your stomach fluttering, the thud of his piss hitting the water. 

And then there was the thrill that came from treating his dick like a water hose, feeling the rush of the water as it exited his pee hole, fuck. 

Lastly, it was the overall intimacy of holding Rafe's dick as he peed that usually got the both of you going, making Rafe's once limp, flaccid cock, now hard and filling up with blood, and your cunt dripping and leaking unto your thighs. 

It was something about your trust in one another to see each other in such foul states that brought you close to one another. 

As Rafe's flow slowly stops, you pout, wishing the thrill could last a little longer. 

You push down lightly on Rafe's pelvis, causing a little bit of his piss to trickle from his cock, but that's it. All Rafe can do is laugh. 

He takes his cock from you, shaking it off, before stuffing it back into his pants. 

"You're such a little piss whore." he says. "Wanting to see more of my piss." 

He brings you into a hug before placing his lips on yours. 

"Maybe one day, I'll get to piss inside of you." He mumbles into the kiss, causing your pussy to jump. 

Maybe one day, you think, one day. 

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 18/5/24

prompt: better to ask for forgiveness than permission

pairing/character(s): steddie, the party

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Are you sure about this?" Lucas whisper yells as Will anxiously checks no one is looking down the Harrington house's driveway.

Dustin's crouched in front of the door, poking a hair pin into the lock with his tongue poked out, and Mike is leaning against the door, unbothered, so it takes a second for anyone to answer.

"I'm worried about him!" Dustin finally says, his motions getting more intense as he seems to fail to pick the lock. "I haven't seen him all week! He wasn't at work all week either, I checked!"

"He booked the week off." Lucas reminds him.

"Well then why hasn't he been hanging out with us?" Dustin huffs, and then goes back to his attempts.

"Who even taught you how to do that?" Will asks.

"Eddie, he taught me too." Mike says.

"He's gonna be so pissed at us." Will continues quietly, biting his lip, and Mike shakes his head.

"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission."

"Eddie taught us that too!" Dustin chimes in.

Ten minutes later, they've finally managed to get into the house. Lucas is privately surprised that Steve didn't hear them and come see who was trying to break into his house. Maybe Steve's not even home! Hopefully.

A quick survey of the ground floor reveals no movement, so the group make their way up the stairs until they're in front of the closed door leading to Steve's bedroom.

Dustin determinedly reaches for the doorknob, and Lucas tries to stop him once more.

"I really don't think he'll appreciate this, Dust-" He whispers, but Dustin cuts him off with his own (attempt at) whispering.

"I need to make sure he's okay!"

With that, the door is quietly pushed open, and promptly all of their jaws drop and they stand in the doorway in silence, processing what they see.

Steve is laying on his back, fast asleep with his mouth ajar, and tucked into his side is a very naked Eddie, whose butt is unfortunately peaking out from under the covers. He's asleep as well, his face pressed against Steve's hairy (and hickey covered) chest.

"I told you this was a bad idea." Lucas whispers frantically, gesturing at the pair. He looks to Will for backup, but Will is bright red and his eyes are still on Steve and Eddie, so he figures that's a lost cause and turns to Dustin and Mike.

Mike looks a little red and shellshocked too, but Dustin immediately starts whisper yelling some more.

"Well, he should've told me!"

"Told you what? That he's sleeping with a guy?"

"Not just any guy, Eddie! Why didn't he tell me?"

Lucas feels a hand grab at his shoulder urgently, but needs Dustin to understand what he's trying to say so he ignores it.

"He was probably scared you'd hate them for it!"

"For dating?"

"For being gay, idiot."

"I'm not gay, for the record. I'm bisexual." Steve suddenly pipes up, and Lucas and Dustin look over at him immediately with wide eyes.

Steve and Eddie have shifted a little now, Steve propped up against his headboard with Eddie lazily laying against his chest still. Thankfully, his ass is covered up now, but Lucas knows he's naked and that's enough to make him shudder.

"Hi Steve. Fancy seeing you here." Lucas tries with a (hopefully) charming smile. Steve snorts in response, and drops his forehead to rest on Eddie's hair for a second in defeat.

"This is literally my bedroom, Sinclair. How'd you guys get in anyway?"

"We picked the lock on your front door!" Dustin says, having the nerve to sound proud of himself.

"Right. Of course." Steve sighs.

"Eddie taught us." Mike chimes in, finally having gone back to his normal colour. Will's still flushed, but looks more present overall, and he nods along to his best friend's words.

Steve quirks a brow at the information, lifts his head again, and promptly flicks Eddie, who's still half asleep, in the head. He immediately looks more awake, and glares at Steve as he rubs where he got flicked.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"You're the reason they picked the lock, Munson."

"Oh, look what you guys did. I got demoted back to Munson." Eddie finally addresses them for the first time, but thankfully he doesn't look too upset. More amused.

Actually, now Lucas thinks about it Steve doesn't look upset either. Pissed off? Yeah. But in that older brother way he gets with them, not actually mad.

"You're the one who told us to ask for forgiveness not permission!" Dustin defends himself, and Eddie gets another flick to the head for that from Steve.

"Well, are you going to ask for forgiveness then?"

"Screw you. We were worried about you!"

"Have you heard of phones before, Henderson. And the rest of you, really? Wheeler, I expect it from-" Steve starts, getting interrupted by an indignant 'hey!' from Mike, "But Sinclair? Baby Byers?"

"For the record I did not want this to happen." Lucas says defensively, and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Interesting considering you're still here when you could've abandoned them." Eddie snorts.

"The party sticks together."

"Still waiting on that beg for forgiveness." Steve singsongs, and Eddie sits up a little straighter as he adds on his own demand with a grin.

"I want full-on on your knees with prayer hands, begging for forgiveness."

[zweiginator]

Omg omg I saw a p0rn caption with a father in law and ejsjajkakan

DILF!Patrick who's stepson is just as scummy as he was. And it shouldnt piss Patrick off - he's not even his actual kid, and why does he care about you, the stupid pretty girl who seems oblivious to the things that your boyfriend is doing.

But you're so ... Sweet. You do the dishes without being asked. You wear *curlers* to bed.

He must be getting soft. Why else does he get painfully hard watching you putter about the kitchen in the mornings? Why does he sit through your stupid TV on the many nights his idiot stepson leaves you home alone? Why does he find himself furiously fucking his fist after you walk by in your tiny silk PJs, but its your sweet smile he needs to think about to come? He's inside another woman, and she's doing everything right, but it's your smile that gets him there, and he bites back a moan of your name?

He really must be going soft. And when you find out the truth about his stepson - he'll just have to make sure he's there to pick up the pieces.

🐼

oh panda yes…

and patrick can’t be mad about it—he must’ve learned it somewhere. the old adage is completely true. the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. and patrick is a single father because of his own sexual endeavors, his utter inability to keep his dick in his pants and stay tied down with commitment.

his son, before going off to college, didn’t hold onto girlfriends. maybe he had internalized his own parents’ relationship and that’s why he cheated on them, screwed them over.

but then after his junior year, he came home with a girl on his arm. you. you with a pink duffle bag and a stuffed bear tucked under your own arm. patrick had told his son it would be more than fine for you to stay with them. your relationship with your own family complicated and your ability to afford a flight home extremely limited.

you tell your boyfriend how sweet his father is. so kind and doting. he helps you pass the time—while his son sleeps in until two in the afternoon, you’re up early, making pancakes and sipping coffee in your silk pajama sets. patrick tries not to stare as you bend over to pick up some chocolate chips that fall to the ground as you try to open the bag.

you don’t realize patrick was awake.

“mr. zweig. sorry to make a mess—i hope you don’t mind. just wanted to make a nice breakfast.”

he shakes his head, sitting down at the kitchen island as you plop some butter into the hot pan.

“no worries at all sweetheart. what’s mine is yours.”

he smiles and you see your boyfriend in him. for obvious reasons, it makes sense. but patrick is more mature. he pays more attention. he talks to you about the world, your studies. your family and plans after college. where are you from? you don’t sound like you’re from around here.

butterflies burn inside your stomach because your boyfriend doesn’t care this much to ask. he likes sleeping in and drinking beer. going out on saturdays and lazy conversations that don’t reach the profound depth that your’s and patrick’s do.

you talk with him all morning. he shares the pancakes with you and he compliments them endlessly.

“wow—“ his eyebrows furrow as he takes the last bite, melted chocolate smearing on his lip. “these are delicious. you’re quite the catch!” he nudges you and you want to sit closer. he does too. he can’t be thinking like this, about his son’s girlfriend. your nipples are hard, poking against the silk of your pajama top and he quickly looks away. he gathers the dishes.

“you go and get ready for the day. i’ll do the dishes honey.” he winks at you; a habit born from old behaviors. old habits die hard. and it’s no harm. he’s not being a creep. and how you smile and nod—it doesn’t seem like you mind either.

and as soon as his son wakes up, he’s out the door. he goes to his friend’s house and doesn’t invite you. instead of moping, you ask patrick to teach you tennis. you can let him hang out with his friends alone—you have the whole summer.

patrick is more than willing. and your tight purple tank top and little white skirt is so enticing. he likes how it flips up and down as you jump to hit his serves.

“you’re a natural!” patrick peeks at you over his sunglasses. he takes his shirt off and you can’t help but watch. you’ve wondered how his body looks underneath those loose t-shirts. he’s toned and tan and jumping into the pool now.

“come in! it’s too hot out there.” he splashes some water at you and you roll your eyes. you jump in and pretend patrick is your lover. that he cares like your boyfriend should. like he desires you. and you don’t realize patrick is thinking the same thing. jumping through hoops in his mind to ask himself if it would really be so bad to flirt with you, share a kiss or two with you. the fact he’s doing mental gymnastics at all shows it’s wrong. he pushes the desires back, fights it like it’s tug-of-war.

he has to go, he tells you. he has a lunch date. you try not to let your face fall. but you can revel in some alone time. as he leaves, you change into your bikini and grab a book you brought.

he comes back a few hours later; your boyfriend is still out.

“how was your date?” you ask patrick. he has to work to lift his eyes, to stop them from staring at your tits, at the sweat pooling in your navel, how your lips part to take a sip of water.

the date was okay, he tells you. he doesn’t tell you that he fucked her, back at her apartment while her kids were at their father’s house. the sex was good but patrick found himself thinking about your body being pinned beneath his instead of hers. he had to stop himself from your name falling from his parted lips as his cock stroked in and out of her. you’d be so tight, so thankful. he can tell his son doesn’t give you the attention you need. you deserve.

your boyfriend doesn’t come back until late at night. almost one in the morning. and you hear patrick yelling at him.

“are you fucking kidding me?” patrick slams the magazine that he was reading down onto the coffee table. "you invite your girlfriend to this house and you fucking ditch her all day?"

"dad--" he rolls his eyes. you're listening from your room, the guest room. you don't want to share a bed with him. he's drunk. you're mad at him. "why does it matter? i'm just having fun with my friends."

patrick is silent for a moment and you can't see them. he points at his son's neck, marked with hickeys. "she deserves so much better. you're not good at hiding it. i know it because im not either."

"exactly--you're not one to talk. cheating on mom with some fucking bimbo--" patrick grabs his shirt.

"this isn't about me. this is about you. i've felt bad about that for years. but you don't invite your girlfriend here and fucking ditch her."

"whatever." he goes to bed. slams the door. patrick knows you're not sleeping with him; he checked on you when you fell asleep after dinner.

and against his better judgment, he goes upstairs and opens the door. you're asleep so peacefully, hugging your little stuffed bear, snoring softly. you wake up, thinking it's your boyfriend. what does it say that you're relieved when you see it's his father instead?

"mr. zweig?" you rub your eyes. the name makes him hard. everything you do does.

he closes the door and locks it. he's sure his son is asleep by now.

"is he back now?" even with so much pent up anger towards him, you're still worried about him. patrick admires how caring you are.

"yeah. he's sleeping."

you don't ask patrick why he's there. you just peel the covers back as an invitation, and patrick joins you. his bare chest is warm against your skin and you feel his breath fanning into the crook of your neck.

"you deserve better, you know." he whispers it against your ear, half-thinking that you may have fallen back asleep.

you open your eyes and peer at him through your lashes. "i don't know better."

patrick tilts your chin up. "i can show you."

and he feels awful. his son is right about him. and can he be mad at his son for being so distinctly like his father? can he be mad at his son when he was secretly hoping for something like this to happen? for an excuse for him to knock on your door and tell you there's good men out there and one is right here and he can show you how a woman should feel, be treated, be pleasured.

maybe you don't realize what patrick means, but you don't pull away from the kiss. it's desperate because you are. for affection, for attention. the kind patrick's been giving you. he pries his mouth open, intent on pushing his tongue against yours, tasting the remnants of your toothpaste. you moan. you run your hand down his chest just to feel him, to see if this is real. he pulls you into him so your body is flush against his. you want him to suffocate you with his chest and his arms, the smell of his cologne still stuck on him from hours ago.

your hands tangle in his hair and you don't realize you're rutting against eachother. patrick's hands go under your top. he feels your nipples and you lean into his touch, cuddling your head into the crook of his neck, your back now pressed against his chest, half on top of him. his hands are so big and strong and he's breathing heavy into your mouth.

you want his hands to move down. you do it yourself, dragging his hand under your shorts. and when he feels how wet you are, all bets of stopping this before it goes too far are off. he's drunk off the smell of your vanilla lotion, the feel of your chapstick on his own lips as you whimper against him. he rubs circles over your clit and plunges his fat fingers into your cunt and you fuck yourself against them.

"mr. zweig--" there you go with that fucking name again. "fuck me--i want you to fuck me."

he could do the right thing and shake his head. say no, this is all so inappropriate. but you grab his erection and push his pajama pants down. he pulls your back so it's flush to his chest and he doesn't waste time, nudging his cock into your pussy. so tight, so ready. he holds your legs and pushes inside all the way. your head leans back into his shoulder. a mewl, and broken moan.

"god--fuck. this is what you deserve. this pretty pussy--" he rubs your clit, spitting on his fingers.

you're lost in it, in him. his balls are heavy, slapping against your ass as he fucks you, his fingers digging into the back of your thighs. for most of it, you're just staring at each other, at dilated pupils and red bitten lips, parted.

he holds your hips and you move them to feel him deeper. he's about to cum because he's telling you so. his sweat is sticking to your back and his spit is in your mouth. you love it all.

"cum in me--i want your cum."

he does what you want. he's a strong, older man but he can't say no to you and those pleading eyes, welled with tears. he's stretching you to the brim and he's cumming inside you and a part of you wishes he could get you pregnant and you could be his forever and ever.

[oniikabuto]

one bed!

-- sfw --

characters: kyle broflovski, kenny mccormick, stan marsh, eric cartman

a/n: i did this for a different fandom like a year ago. i love the one bed trope i just had to write a new one for south park....,,, lmk if you want part 2

notes: fluff yayyy; gn reader; characters have a fat crush on you live laugh mutual pining;

guys requests are very much open rigjt now pleasseeeekksflkdfnkjs

— ⛧ k. broflovski

sweetest guy. he doesn't want to take your bed, but you insist.

he also hangs his jacket on the door and keeps his hat neatly on your desk... which is kinda funny and cute that he tries so hard to be neat

freezes up and goes red when you slide into the bed next to him. poor boy is about to melt.

"dude why are you so sweaty are you okay"

"huh- what? yeah, yeah it's cool i'm fine it's..,,,,,,,"

wakes up with a puddle of drool and a wet cheek. he panics and wipes his face and looks over to see if you're awake. you pretend you aren't for kyle's sake. he's so cute.

his nose also does that stupid whistley thing it's so funny

a relatively still sleeper. he just kinda curls up and.. sleeps. sometimes he murmurs something in his sleep.

"cartman.. shut up..",

"what?", you murmur groggily.

"no"

"kyle??? are you awake??"

(no response)

genuinely cannot remember any of that when he wakes up.

— ⛧ k. mccormick

it's like 1am and you turn off the movie as the credits roll.

when you look over at kenny, he looks like a baby that had just woken up.

"dude, what time is it..", he murmurs.

"um.. late." you definitely did not mean to have him over for so long.

"do you wanna go home, or like.. stay with me?"

kenny perks up immediately when you offer to let him spend the night. huge, shit-eating grin spread across his face.

"dumbass", you laugh. but you kinda wanted him over, too.

he sits in your room and pokes at all of your plushies while he waits for you to go get a change of clothes for him. ("no way you're sleeping in that eyesore of a parka!")

almost faints when you change your shirt in front of him

youre the only person that can fluster him like that.

sleeps curled up like a little car

(I MEANT TO TYPE CAT BUT THATS REALLY FUCKING FUNNY)

makes funny noises

like when a dog is sleeping

you'll wake up with his face in your chest and he'll swear it was an accident. it was not

— ⛧ s. marsh

you were at your desk doing homework and stan was on your bed on his phone, both doing your own thing as music played from your speaker.

it's not until that last math problem that you realize it's late. really, really late. you look over at stan, and he's face-down dead asleep on your bed, phone still in one hand.

you don't want to wake him up and tell him to go home, so instead you take his hat off and leave it on your bedpost.

he's splayed across the bed right in the middle.

how?? are you supposed to move him???

after a moment of deliberation, you hold your breath and roll him over, praying he doesn't wake up.

he does obviously

"ow..???? y/n??"

"shit. sorry. it's late, just go back to sleep. you can walk home tomorrow morning."

"wha- okay"

he's too tired to object

plus he secretly loves being in your bed. it smells like you

snores and breathes kinda funny once in a while

no matter how still he looks when you get into the bed with him, somehow you wake up with his limbs sprawled out like a spider.

in the morning, his leg is on top of you and his hand is on your face.

— ⛧ e. cartman

actually such a bitch about staying over

he definitely tried to distract you so that he would HAVE to spending the night

he just loves spending time with you but he doesnt wanna ask :(

"but the couch will make my back stiff! i'll be soo sore in the morning!"

"just say you want to sleep in my room with me, cartman."

"whaat?? if you insist, i guess!"

makes himself absolutely at home. if you want to sleep in your own bed, you'll have to sleep on top of him or touching him.

he definitely does that on purpose

as much as it pains you to admit it, cartman is actually like really really comfortable.

even if he's squishing you to death

and he claims he has no idea he does that in his sleep

smells like a dove soap bar or like. baby shampoo and its actually really nice

snores like a monster truck engine

leaves his shit all over the floor but also offers to help clean up to impress you

(he cant clean for shit but at least he tried??)

[sourpeachsayshi]

(size kink mention; drug use mention - all characters are 21+)

midnight snack {feat. you (yuji's best friend) x older brother choso}

it's late when you sneak into choso's room, finding your best friend's older brother wide awake and glued to his screen playing a video game. you softly knock on his door, and he quirks his brow in your direction in acknowledgement.

upon your arrival he speaks into his headphones, notifies whoever he is playing with that he'll be right back.

he knows exactly what you're here for - can tell from how you shyly gaze down at your feet and bite your bottom lip. he tilts his head towards his bed, "come in," he states sweetly, "shut the door behind you"

you do, as always. anticipation sending shivers all over your body.

you sit down on the edge of the mattress, eyes focused on his large frame motioning towards you. he practically meets your height when he kneels right in front you, the smell of weed sticking to his skin, his eyes a little red from the joint he smoked earlier.

the rings on his index and middle finger sparkle when he hooks them both underneath your fleece shorts, his eyes widening as a smile ticks his lips.

"making it easy for me, huh. you in a rush or something?" he teases.

"I left my underwear the last time. yuji found it while he was doing laundry..."

"I know, I told him it belonged to a friend. I still have it in my drawer," choso admits, looking up at you from underneath his shadowy lashes, and noting how your nipples are also poking through your tank top.

"so, is this how you sleep next to yuji whenever stay over?"

your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"he doesn't care," you insist, "he doesn't...pay attention to this kind of stuff..."

"or so you think," choso chuckles, arching forward so his warm breath is fanning across your pulsing cunt.

"it's true-ue...ohhh," your eyes flutter close, you tummy coiling at choso's tongue gliding over the source of your pleasure.

"uh-huh," he laughs in a slightly condescending tone, "try to keep it down this time, sweetheart. I'm still in game..."

[ssahotchnerr]

hello my sweet! been reading your stuff a lot lately and the way you write aaron is so beautiful and real but anyway i’ll stop gushing - imagine just EXISTING with aaron. like the both of you doing your evening routines and just being happy and safe in each others prescence like UNF I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

also also imagine him using his height to tease u like knowing you always use a particular mug so he likes putting it on the top shelf so he can tower over you and press himself against your back under the pretense of “helping” like aaron you little slut we know what you’re trying to do and its mean😠 (do it again)

anyway ily lots and i hope you’ve had a good day n stuff

- Gem💙

routine and a tease

thank you so much my sweet ily!! hehe here's a thing including alllll of that cw; suggestiveness, allusions to sex, mentions of food, aaron being a lil shit <3 wc; 1k

aaron's alarm goes off at seven, yours at seven thirty.

you're notorious for hitting snooze, several times, while aaron promptly rises at the first ring. half the time, you're convinced he even beats his alarm most days.

aaron's finished showering by the time you drag yourself out of bed. steam's still coating the bathroom mirror, the air's a bit thick with the lingering heat, and it fogs into your bedroom. as you enter, he exits, but not without giving you your first kiss of the morning. you hop in the shower next, while aaron dresses and trails out.

being the first awake, aaron has the awakening the apartment duties. he pulls the curtains open, allowing the morning light to flood in. he grabs jack's backpack off the chair at the dining room table, quickly double checks that homework was completed, and that the papers in his folder are orderly and within easy access, according to jack's lesson schedule - science is first, then math, language arts, so on - and back into his backpack it goes. he then double checks to make sure his briefcase and go-bag has everything he needs, he'll retrieve his gun and badge when he heads out later.

aaron sets both by the door, as well as your bag. he knows everything is already prepared and ready to go - you won't go to bed the night prior if it's not. you've told him many times, as not an early riser, why add a reason to rush in the morning if you can help it?

being the first awake also has its advantages, especially when it comes to a certain game aaron is fond of playing. he'll never deny himself the opportunity to poke affectionate fun at you.

and he does so for the other benefit; it does tend you rile you up.

even this, is routine.

you enter the kitchen with a yawn - you passed aaron in the hallway, where he gave you your second kiss of the day, off to jack's room to get him up and at 'em.

aaron's already brewed the coffee, and your creamer is on the counter waiting for you. all you need to do is open the cabinet to retrieve your favorite cup.

it's a mug jack painted you, at one of those pottery and art studios in the city. it was one of your birthday surprises this past year, and it's the only mug you plan on using for the rest of time. you even have a matching plate, aaron's own doing when he accompanied jack at the studio.

no matter how many times aaron pulls the stunt, your reaction is always the same. your brows crumble at the absence - at the empty spot amongst the other mugs. where you had left it the night before after unloading the dishwasher, it's no longer there. and as expected it's on the very top shelf, way out of your reach.

"aaron," you whine, loudly enough it trails out of the kitchen and down the hall.

a moment later aaron enters, a mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. he knows that whine, but doesn't address it, naturally. "good morning darling. sleep well?"

you narrow your eyes, playfully glaring at him as your arms crossed in front of you. despite your ministrations, a smile tugs at your lips, "i did. you?"

"mhmm." he presses his lips to yours. his eyes quickly flick up to the open cabinet, right to where your mug stands, but remains purposefully oblivious.

you continue to play along. "busy day ahead?"

aaron shrugs, grabbing his mug and pouring his helping. "nothing out of the ordinary. budget meeting, there's a few reports i have to finish, the usual."

you hum in response, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

aaron takes a sip of coffee, only to hide his itching smile. "is there something wrong?"

"is there?" you mock his cheeky tone, and your eyes narrow again. "somehow, my mug isn't where i left it."

"that's strange," aaron feigns confusion, his brows furrowing as his gaze moved upward. "all the way up there? wonder how that happened."

you scoff lightly, turning back to the cupboard. you leaned up on your tiptoes as you attempted to reach for it, anticipating his next move. "yeah, i wonder."

as you expected, aaron's front is suddenly flush against your back, fully crowding you, his mouth at your ear. "lemme help." his voice is low as he reaches up, retrieving your mug with ease. his other hand lands on the spot right above your ass, daring to move lower, and causing your breath to catch in your throat.

but, aaron withdrawals his hand the second he hears the soft breath escape you, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring it into your mug himself.

mission successful, once again.

you exhale, deeply yet gently, heat filling your cheeks. it's days like these, you'll opt for iced coffee.

some rare mornings though, with jack at jess's and neither you or aaron have anywhere to be, his actions don't stop there. more often than not, the two of you don't even bother to leave the kitchen.

aaron leans up against the counter, silently watching you prepare your coffee to your liking, rather unenthusiastically at that. after your first sip, and another amused glare directed at him, you start pulling out the cereal for breakfast. aaron falls alongside you, beginning to pack jack's lunch - grabbing an uncrustable from the freezer, filling a ziploc of carrots, another of veggie straws.

again, your shared, usual routine.

you're the one to finally break the silence. "one of these days, i'm buying a step stool."

"no you won't," a laugh bursts from him as he grabs a juice box from the fridge, the loudness of it making you grin instantly. he straightens his posture as he stands back upright, a half smile, half smirk plastered on his face. "you enjoy this just as much as i do. even more."

he has you there, and from the expression your face pulls in response, he knows it. a laugh leaves him once more as he crowds you, backing you against the counter and pressing his lips to yours.

"this is the best part of the morning,'' aaron mumbles into your lips. "is it not?"

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠. (𝐡𝐜𝐬)

INCLUDES | keisuke baji, kazutora hanemiya, manjiro sano, shuji hanma

NOTE | This is really short, I'm sorry! I'm not sure how I feel about it either, but I hope it's not too bad.

— BAJI.

Pretty much everyone in Toman knows Baji has a soft spot for you. They never miss an opportunity to tease him about it, telling him to make the first move, to stop staring like a creep and just ask you out already.

...What they don't know is that you and Baji have been secretly dating for months now.

Though you decided to keep your relationship a secret mainly to keep each other safe and avoid being exposed to unnecessary danger, you both find amusement in keeping your friends in the dark about your relationship. It became like a fun little game between you and Baji, sharing playful glances and knowing smiles whenever the others would tease him about his supposed crush.

You're pretty sure Chifuyu knows the truth, though. There's always a knowing smirk on his face that suggests he might be onto your secret, but he plays along, giving you both a nod of approval whenever he catches the subtle displays of affection between the two of you.

If you eventually decide to make your relationship public, Baji will have a field day teasing his friends for not noticing sooner that you were dating. He won't miss the chance to brag about being the one who won the 'prettiest Toman member's heart, even poking fun at those who once had a crush on you.

— KAZUTORA

In the middle of all those men, it wasn't easy for you to find your place in Valhalla.

You often kept to yourself, feeling like you didn't really belong here. You had effortlessly managed to prove your strength and loyalty to the gang so everyone respected you and treated you as an equal — but it still felt weird to be surrounded with so many men, each more violent and intimidating than the other.

But with Kazutora, there was an instant connection that set him apart from the others.

Before you knew it, you were having secret meetings away from the prying eyes of the gang, and what began as just a friendship soon turned into something more.

Kazutora's affection towards you in public is subtle yet genuine. The two of you always make sure to stand away from each other during meetings and gatherings so as to not awake suspicions, but Kazutora quietly keeps an eye on you from a distance, checking up on you without drawing attention to your connection.

During fights, this protectiveness manifests in small yet meaningful gestures. Even though he trusts in your ability to handle yourself, he'll gladly position himself as a shield between you and any potential threats. He's always ready to divert attention away from you or take the hit in your place —which you often scold him for.

While it goes mainly unnoticed by others you can always tell when he does things for you, just to protect you. Sometimes, you manage to steal a quick kiss from him when nobody's looking, leaving a flustered Kazutora behind you.

— MIKEY.

Mikey is incredibly protective of you, which quickly makes people wonder if there's something going on between you. You both deny it every time, but you're not sure how much longer you'll manage to hide it — you're pretty sure Mikey has already told Draken anyway. (or Sanzu — depends if we're talking about Toman or Bonten Mikey)

It really doesn't help his case that he's always turning down his friend's invitations to hang out in favor of spending time with you. He doesn't explicitly tell them that — and he tries to cover up the fact that he's going out with you by using the excuse of wanting to stay at home and rest— but it doesn't take a genius to figure out his real intentions. It's no coincidence that you and Mikey are always unavailable at the same time.

The gang playfully teases him about his 'resting' time when they see him the next day, not realizing that these moments with you go beyond him simply sneaking away to see his girlfriend.

Your meetings are what keeps Mikey grounded, the very last anchor in his life that prevents him from completely losing himself.

When the weight of the world gets too overwhelming for him to bear, you become Mikey's refuge — the only person capable of providing the comfort he seeks and calming his racing thoughts.

— HANMA.

Hanma is a master at this whole secret relationship thing.

He effortlessly hides his feelings and shows no sign of concern for you, even when you get hurt during a fight or are facing threats from others. To the outside world, he treats you just like any other guy in Valhalla, pushing you to get up and keep fighting —fully aware that you can handle yourself and need no savior.

While he may not shower you with affection in public, there's another side of Hanma behind closed doors that only you gets to see;

As soon as the two of you are alone, he's all over you, always holding you close and kissing you like there's no tomorrow, getting all cocky over the fact that he's the only one allowed to kiss you and touch you like he does.

Of course, don't think he'll let the men who hurt you get away with it.

The next day, Hanma will take the matter into his own hands and seek out whoever hurt or threatened you. He doesn't give any explanation as to why he beats them up, simply brushing it off and telling everyone that he "just felt like it."

[hanniebaeee]

Comfort

Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut

Summary: You've had a very stressful day, and your flatmate Jisung wants to help you relieve some of that stress.

You're restless. It's been a hard day, and you're exhausted. But you can't sleep.

You try taking deep breaths and stretching and what not. But nothing helps. You slip out of your bed and out of your room, knowing there's only one thing that can calm you down. 

You pad down the hallway, finding his door slightly open. You knock softly and poke your head inside. He's facing away from you, so you don't know if he's awake or not. 

“Jisung?” you whisper, planning to run back if he's asleep. 

Jisung stirs and turns around, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks softly, patting the space next to him on the bed. He knew you too well. 

You quickly slip under the blanket beside him, and as always, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close. He's so warm. 

“You ok?” His voice is low and groggy as he studies your face.

“Just...stressed.” You mumble against his chest.

He hums in response, his grip tightening on you. The heat radiating from him is the most comforting thing in the world, and you crave it. Jisung nuzzles your hair gently, his breath warm against your skin, and you let yourself sink into his softness.

You know that this is not exactly ideal. This game you two are playing. You have grown so used to being with him, it's getting harder to fight the emotions stirring within you.

His hands slide beneath the fabric of your shirt, his fingertips brushing lightly against your sides and up your ribs. You close your eyes tightly as it sends a shiver up your spine. His lips brush against your forehead, pressing a soft kiss there.

His hands roam down to your hips, pulling you closer, that you can feel how hard he is for you.

“Let me help you,” Jisung whispers into your ear.

Your eyes meet and you give him a questioning look.

“Do you trust me?” He asks and you nod, even though you're confused about what he's suggesting. 

But the moment you say yes, Jisung is up and quickly pulling you shorts down. Your eyes are wide and you try to sit up, but he pushes you back down and tells you that he'll take care of you. You are beyond worried now, because other than some very hot make out sessions and dry humping, you two have never done anything more. 

And now he is pulling down your panties and tossing it aside like he's done it a hundred times before. He's eyeing your glistening pussy like it's a delicacy and you blush, trying to close your legs. 

“Jisung! What are-”

“Baby!”

“Ji, we can't-”

“Says who? I want to! If you really don't want it, then fine!” Jisung is moving away, and you really don't want him to. So you quickly grab his arm and say, “Please don't be mad!”

“I want this,” He says firmly. “I'm sorry if you don't. I'm really sorry.”

“I want you too. I don't want to fuck up what we have, ok?” You say, a small pout forming on your lips. 

“Open your legs baby. Please don't make me beg.” Jisung says, his voice calm. 

“Are we really gonna have sex now? Just like that?” You ask. 

“Baby, I want to eat you out.” Jisung says softly. “We can talk about sex after that. If you want to talk about it.”

“You, what?”

You look so baffled. No one has ever done that before. You've never experienced that before. And you don't know what to expect. 

“You heard me.” Jisung’s eyes are on your legs, as if he's trying to pry them open with his will.

“Jisung, you're stressing me out.” You say, searching his face for some sigh of doubt. You find none. 

“I'm trying to help you relieve some stress. Now open up!”

“Don't say that!”

“I'm leaving.”

“Ok ok! Oh my god, don't leave!”

Your eyes are locked with his as you slowly open your legs for him. Jisung's hands reach for your thighs and his eyes drop down. He's ogling at your wet folds, biting his lower lips, and you can't take it anymore. 

“Stop staring, Ji!” 

Without another word, his mouth is on your inner thigh, kissing and nipping his way up to your core. 

You try to calm yourself down as you feel his warm breath on your wetness and you gasp as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. It sends shockwaves of pleasure spiraling through your entire body. 

Jisung knows what he's doing. That much is very clear. He licks through your wet lips, his tongue moving at a slow pace. He's avoiding your clit, moving around it with such skill and you whine softly, impatiently, your hips moving on up to meet his face.

He chuckles lightly, nudging your clit teasingly with his nose. Your hand finds hold on his soft hair, tugging gently, as he prods at your entrance. His hands hold on to your thighs as he pushes his tongue into you, making you jerk in shock. 

“Ji, please-”

He hums in response, as he fucks his tongue into you. Your eyes roll back in pleasure, as your hips buck into his face again, and he absolutely loves it. His nose rubs against your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you. 

Jisung loses himself in the moment, his movements becoming more urgent, more fervent as he explores you with a hunger that matches your own. And quickly, he's moving away, and you whine in protest, but it quickly turns into a moan as he slips a finger into you.

“You like that baby?” His voice is so low and husky, as he pumps his finger in and out of your sopping wet hole, grinning.

“Y-yes,” you manage to say, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Jisung groans as you tug his hair again, and you are a whimpering mess when he finally decides to place a tiny lick on your clit. He places a few more kitten licks on your sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth. You body is burning with need as he sucks and nibbles on your clit, slowly adding another finger into you. 

It feels like you can't take it any longer. Your grip on him tightens, urging him on as you feel a familiar knot builts inside you. The world around you fades, and all that exists is the heat, the pleasure -  the two of you.

You can feel your body tightening, ready to release.

“I’m so close,” you gasp, your heart racing as you look down at him, watching the way he is so lost in you.

He responds with a low growl, his mouth and his fingers working faster, and it sends you tumbling over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over you, and your body trembles under him.

“Jisung!” you cry out, trying to get away from him, because it's all too much. 

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps lapping at you, guiding you through your orgasm until you are completely spent. Your body falls back against the sheets as you gasp for air. 

Jisung crawls back up your body, his eyes dark.

“Are you ok?” he whispers, and you nod, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as swirls it around yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he is just so hard against you.

“Are we gonna talk about this?” Jisung asks, desperately rubbing himself on you.

“We probably should.”

“You'll have to talk to my dead body then, coz I'm dying here.”

You giggle softly, pushing him onto his back on the bed and climbing on top of him. His body trembles beneath yours, and you lean closer pressing a kiss on his lips, and say, “Maybe we can talk after-”

“Yea, yes please-”

He is quick to get rid of his pants and boxers, and grabs a condom from his bedside table. He breathes heavily as his hands fly to your hips and helps position you above him. His lips part as he runs his tongue over his lower lip.

“Ready?" He asks, and you nod, lowering yourself onto him. 

You feel the stretch as he fills you, the sensation, overwhelming. You roll your hips slowly, and Jisung's  grip on you tightens. His breath is ragged as he pulls you closer, thrusting upward into you with a fierce, desperate need. Your bodies collide again and again, and the sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room.

“Baby… please,” you gasp, your body trembling as the pressure inside you builds, the need for release swallowing you whole.

“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice rough.

When your second orgasm hits you, you cry out his name, body trembling. Jisung follows you, his own release crashing over him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He holds you close as he releases deep inside you. 

You collapse against him, sweaty and tired. Jisung’s breath is slow and ragged, and you settle down next to him, breathless.

“I love you, baby,” Jisung whispers, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You lift your head to look at him, and he smiles softly. 

“You don't have to say it back… I just wanted you to know-”

“I love you too, Ji.”

And there's nothing more to say about that.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Wendigo | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean's a dick but so is the reader

Word Count: 8817

A/N: Happy Saturday! Enjoy the next chapter!! Taglist/Requests are open!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You were curled up against the backseat of the Impala writing in your journal and humming along to Dean’s Foreigner cassette tape when Sam jerked awake in the front seat. You jerked up as well, concerned.

Dean shot his brother a worried look. “You okay?”

Sam blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Bull. Nightmare?” you asked.

The younger brother just cleared his throat in response. 

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asked.

You and Sam gave him an incredulous look. 

“Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that,” he laughed.

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” He rolled his eyes and returned them to the road. 

“Look, man, you’re worried about me,” Sam sighed. “I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

His brother just hummed in response.

“I’ll take you up on that driving offer, though,” you chimed in.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“And I told you I wasn’t listening.”

“Dick.”

Dean just scoffed in response. 

Sam’s unfolding of a map brought the conversation back on track. “All right, where are we?”

“Just outside of Grand Junction,” you answered. You leaned over his shoulder and pointed at the spot labeled “Grand Junction” and drew a trail with your finger over to a spot labeled with the coordinates Dean had found in John’s journal. 

Sam hesitated before speaking again. “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

Dean shook his head. “Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—”

“We gotta find Dad first,” Sam finished.

“Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence.”

“Wait, showing up again?” you asked. Even after poking around at Stanford, this was the first you’d heard of a previous encounter with the creature.

“I thought Sam would’ve told you,” Dean said.

“Told me what?”

Sam turned to face you. “You remember what I said about my mom dying? She died the same way Jess did.”

You nodded in solemn understanding. 

The car went quiet again; the silence only broken by the older brother. “Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.”

Sam scanned the map again. “It's weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.”

“What about it?” you asked, putting your chin on Sam’s shoulder to look at the map.

“There's nothing there. It's just woods.” He put down the map, looking past your head at Dean. “Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?”

Dean just shrugged in response. 

The three of you found yourselves in a ranger’s station in Lost Creek National Forest just outside of Blackwater Ridge. You and Sam scanned a three-dimensional map of the forest atop a large table in the center of the room. 

“So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote.” The brunet tapped his finger against the ridge’s label on the map. “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.”

However, his brother’s attention could not be pulled away from a picture on the wall. “Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.”

You walked over to him, and he was right. The thing was massive. The man standing behind its corpse looked like a dwarf in comparison. 

“There’s about a dozen or so grizzlies in the area,” you added. 

You and the boys were startled by a ranger’s voice coming from behind you. “You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?”

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper,” Sam assured him, laughing awkwardly.

Dean grinned and raised a fist. “Recycle, man.”

‘I could hit him. Jackass.’

The ranger obviously did not believe him. “Bull.”

Your eyes flicked to Dean, who was unmoving. 

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” the ranger continued.

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger— Wilkinson.” Dean faltered only to read the ranger’s name tag.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?”

You shook your head. 

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will.” Dean paused only for a moment. “Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?”

“That is putting it mildly.”

You laughed. ‘I’m sure we’d get along great.’

“Actually,” Dean stopped the ranger from leaving the room. “You know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.”

The ranger eyed Dean curiously, but still got him a copy of the permit. 

Dean laughed smugly as the three of you left the station, waving the paper around.

“What are you, five?” you asked him.

“Listen, sweetheart, I consider this a major success.” You quirked a brow at him, mildly annoyed he called you that stupid name again. “This eliminates a lot of the groundwork we normally have to do.”

“Fair point,” you shrugged. 

Sam broke the somewhat comfortable silence. “Are you cruising for a hookup or something?”

Considering the thought you’d just had, you were taken slightly aback. “What do you mean?”

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam was more talking pointedly at Dean and not you. You came to a stop on your respective sides of the Impala.

You couldn’t quite see Dean over the top of the car. “I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?”

You could practically feel the look Dean was giving Sam.

“What?” the brunet scoffed.

“Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?”

“Since now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, biting the inside of your lip. “Really?’ you muttered, getting down into the car. 

***

Sam walked a little further up the walkway to the Collins house than you and Dean did. 

“Forty-five minutes in that copy room for this?” you inspected Dean’s small, fake park ranger ID.

“Can’t rush art, sweetheart.”

“Now you’re just working it into every sentence because you know it aggravates me.”

"Yup,” Dean chuckled. 

You smirked lopsidedly and Dean knocked on Haley Collins’s front door. A quite beautiful, dark-haired girl opened it moments later. 

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and (Y/N), we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.”

Haley hesitated. “Lemme see some ID.”

Dean held up the ID you’d previously been inspecting to the screen door. The girl looked between the ID and Dean. 

“Come on in.”

“Thanks.” 

The door swung open, allowing Haley to catch a glimpse of the Impala. “That yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice car.” She began leading the three of you into the home.

Dean looked back at Sam, mouthing something excitedly to him that you couldn’t quite make out. You rolled your eyes. You decided then and there you would push your attraction to him to the side for the rest of the time you were working with the brothers. To you, he was just an asshole playboy. 

Sam’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?”

You took in the sight of the table set for dinner and a young boy who looked to be about thirteen already picking at his plate of food. 

Haley entered the room with a bowl and placed it onto the table. “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception,” you suggested.

“He's got a satellite phone, too.”

‘Well, there goes that theory.’

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean threw in.

The teenage boy clanked his fork against his plate, sharply stating, “He wouldn't do that.”

You eyed the boy, getting a read on him.

“Our parents are gone,” Haley said. “It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.”

You nodded in understanding. As much as you were trying to dislike her, it wasn’t working all that well.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asked.

Haley pulled out her laptop to show Sam the folder of pictures and videos her brother had sent her. “That's Tommy.” You could hear the sadness in her voice.

She clicked through to the most recent video. 

A scruffy, presumably twenty-five year old man appeared onscreen. “Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

Something flickered past outside the young man’s tent. Your brows furrowed. 

“Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing,” Dean assured her.

“Then maybe I'll see you there,” she answered. “Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

Your eyes flicked over to Dean, growing angry at what you assumed to be an attempt at seducing the girl.

‘She’s mourning the potential loss of her brother, and you’re gonna try and charm her? Asshole.’

The younger Winchester once again broke you out of your thoughts. “Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?”

“Sure.” Haley clicked away on her laptop again.

*** 

You and the boys wound up at a bar. The table was covered in newspapers, John’s journal, and beer bottles; some full and some half empty. 

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.” 

You gestured to John’s journal, which Sam slid over to you. You began flipping through it. 

“Any before that?” Dean asked. 

Sam pulled out a newspaper to show his brother. “Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.”

You leaned across the table, squinting at the headline. You felt Dean’s eyes flick to your breasts that had subsequently been pushed up in your wife beater as you leaned over. 

You glared at him. “Stay focused, Winchester.”

Dean rolled his eyes, apparently unable to find his way to a witty response. You turned your attention back to the headline that read, “ GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS! UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA.”

Sam pulled out his laptop. “Before that, 1959 and 1936. Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork.”

“You have WiFi in here?” you questioned.

“Don’t need it. Just wanted to look at Haley’s video.” He pulled it up from a folder on his screen. 

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. Can I see that?” You hopped off your stool to get between the two brothers. “Watch this.” You clicked through the three frames of the video containing the shadow you’d seen flash across the screen. “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

Dean reached across you to hit Sam’s shoulder. “Told you something weird was going on.”

Sam rolled his eyes, closing his laptop. “Yeah. I got one more thing.” He put a newspaper article between you and Dean. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

You skimmed the article briefly. “Is there a name?”

The only survivor of the attack in the article Sam showed you and Dean was a child at the time. He now lived a life of what appeared to be solitude. He drove a beat up truck that was parked haphazardly in his driveway and lived several miles out of the city. You took in the poor old man’s messy house as he led your trio into his living room.

“Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—”

Sam interrupted him. “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw lit a cigarette, took a deep puff, and nodded. 

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean’s tone was slightly pointed. “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

The old man continued to take drags of his cigarette. He seemed almost scared to entertain any other explanation aside from a grizzly bear attack. 

Dean continued to pressure him. “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

Mr. Shaw shook his head. “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” He sat down in his recliner. “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

Sam sat down opposite the old man. “Mr. Shaw, what did you see?”

“Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like... no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?”

He nodded. 

“Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it.”

You tried to keep your face from conveying your intrigue and tinge of fear.

“Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” You could see Mr. Shaw becoming lost in his mind. 

“It killed them?” Sam continued.

“Dragged them off into the night.” The old man shook his head as if to shake away the memories. “Why it left me alive... been asking myself that ever since.” He took a brief pause before reaching to the collar of his wife beater. “Did leave me this, though.” He pulled it down to reveal three long, deep claw mark scars. Through morbid curiosity, you were tempted to run your fingers over the jagged edges of the scarring. You couldn’t imagine how painful and angry the marks must have been when the poor man first got them. 

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaw. We’re sorry about your parents,” you told him, turning away. “Have a good night, sir.” 

Mr. Shaw seemed too caught up in his own head to respond with more than a wave, letting a cloud of smoke slither out of his mouth. 

*** Later that night, you and the boys had just booked a room in yet another crappy motel.

‘One of these days I’ll treat myself to a stay in a halfway decent hotel.’ 

Before the three of you would be turning in for the night, you were headed to Dean’s car to pack your bags for the early morning you were about to have. 

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors.” Dean broke your train of thought. “If they want inside, they just go through the walls.”

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal,” Sam said.

“Corporeal? Look at you, smartass,” you laughed.

“Shut up. So what do you think?”

“The claws, the speed that it moves…” Dean trailed off. “Could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.” 

“True,” you started. “But how are you gonna know what to bring to kill it with if we have no idea what it is?”

“Just trust me on this one,” Dean replied. “There’s not much a gun won’t be able to take care of.” He let the door to the motel almost completely swing shut behind him; nearly hitting you in the face. 

You caught it just in time. “Right, right. Just like you ‘took care’ of Constance by shooting her.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dean raised a brow at you, just barely turning over his shoulder to give you his response. He started busying himself in the weapons box in the back of his car.

“I mean, just barely. Nearly caught me in the crossfire.”

Dean rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “And what a shame that would’ve been.”

“Hey!” You shoved his shoulder with yours. 

He glared at you in response. 

Sam, who had been quiet the last few minutes, spoke up. “We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.”

His brother was rummaging through the weapons box; haphazardly throwing guns into his duffel bag. “Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?”

You found a shotgun that was slightly smaller than the rest, giving it a once over before moving to put it in a duffel bag of your own. Before you could fully get it settled in the bag, Dean took it from you.

You went to protest, but Sam cut you off by saying, “Yeah,” as if it was obvious. 

Dean turned his attention away from you and your shotgun long enough for you to steal it back. 

“Her brother's missing, Sam,” he tried to reason. “She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.” 

Dean seemed to notice you had taken the gun back and glared at you. He picked up his own duffel, and you closed the weapons cavity. 

“Finding Dad’s not enough?” Sam countered while you closed the trunk. “Now we gotta babysit too?”

You and Dean gave Sam a look.

“What?” he snapped.

You shook your head. 

“Nothing,” Dean replied. He threw the duffel bag at him and walked off. 

***

You yawned and pulled yourself into a tighter ball on the backseat of Dean’s Impala. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night for a reason you couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t get too comfortable, sweetheart, we’re here,” Dean told you.

“Fuck.” You grabbed yours and Dean’s duffel bags off the seat next to you and got out of the car to feel loose gravel grating against your boots. 

A man who looked to be in his late fifties was up ahead of you next to a Jeep with Haley and the teenager you recognized as Haley’s younger brother. You approached the other three from behind Sam and Dean.

“You guys got room for three more?” the older brother asked.

Haley crossed her arms. “Wait, you want to come with us?”

“Who are these guys?” The older man pointed at your group.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.”

Sam headed past everyone, and you followed.

You assumed the middle-aged man was the guide Haley had talked about hiring the previous day. He was very skeptical of the three of you. “You're rangers?”

Dean’s confidence never wavered. “That's right.”

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley was apparently skeptical, too. 

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.”

‘That’s what he calls me.’ You couldn’t quite understand the pang that went through your chest when he used that nickname for her. You pushed the thought aside once again, reminding yourself that you weren’t special in Dean’s eyes. To you, he was becoming more of a playboy asshole with each passing moment. You hoped your attraction to his beautiful green eyes and sharp jawline would soon turn to disdain. 

Speaking of which, he appeared next to you as the guide spoke once more. “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt.”

You turned around, trying to explain Dean’s attitude away. “He knows that. He just has a funny way of showing it.” You hoped Dean didn’t miss the bite in your tone. And from the way you could feel his glare burning a hole through your skull, you were sure it wasn’t lost on him.

The guide shook his head, brushing past you and the brothers. He headed into the forest, and you followed a few paces behind. You would never admit it, but the woods had always unsettled you just a bit. You tightened your grip on your bag and pushed forward. 

Dean had apparently learned the guide’s name from Haley while you were lost in your own anxiety. “Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” He quickened his step to pass you and get up next to Roy. 

“Yeah, more than a little.” The response came gruff and disinterested. 

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?”

You could feel where this was going. ‘Don’t fucking provoke him, Winchester.’

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.” The disinterest was ever present in Roy’s tone as he continued to scan the treeline in front of him. 

Dean passed him up, doing that obnoxiously confident backwards walk again. “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?” 

Suddenly, Roy grabbed Dean’s jacket roughly. You nearly flinched.

“Whatcha doing, Roy?” Dean’s tone had hardened.

Roy grabbed a stick, and peering around Dean you could see the jaws of a bear trap close around it inches from Dean’s boot. 

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.” 

‘Damn.’

Roy dropped the stick and took the lead once more.

Dean turned around to the rest of the group. “It's a bear trap.”

You scoffed. 

You could hear Haley’s quickened step crunching leaves as she passed you to catch up to Dean. “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.” She grabbed his arm, spinning him to face her. “So who the hell are you?”

The teenage boy passed his sister and Dean. You and Sam hesitated behind Haley, shooting Dean a quizzical look. Dean jerked his head for the two of you to go on. You followed Sam forward, but hung back close enough that you could hear Dean and Haley’s conversation. 

“Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our father. (Y/N) is—” you were interested in this explanation, “—a friend of ours.” 

‘Oh, so we’re friends now.’

“He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat.”

“Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?”

“I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman. ...ever. So, we okay?” 

‘Wonder how many times he’s used that line.’ You caught that same squeeze happening in your chest happening again. You desperately wished to get ahold of yourself and snap out of it. ‘He’s just pretty to look at. He’s a complete douche. Get it together, girl.’

You had missed Haley’s response to Dean’s “heartfelt” admission, but heard “And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?” You heard the rustling of a plastic bag behind you, and remembered the bag of peanut M&Ms he had bought at a gas station before coming here. You heard Dean start walking again, and you hurried ahead to catch up with Sam and not look like you were snooping. 

Dean had apparently noticed you were hanging back and chuckled to himself. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

He walked up beside you. “Jealous?”

“What?” you turned to him, feigning disgust. “Fuck no.”

“So… you were just snooping because…?”

You wanted to smack the smug grin off his face. His amusement at your aggravation riled you up even more. “I was just curious what she thought of us. And to be frank, I don’t exactly trust your ability to explain things away. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You knew he didn’t believe you. “That’s all.” 

You petulantly stole the bag of peanut M&Ms from him.

“Hey! (Y/N)!” 

You marched on.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge,” Roy announced after what felt like hours of walking. Your anxiety around getting lost in the forest was only deepening. That was what it all boiled down to. You had a fear of not being in control, and the idea of a place where every “landmark” looked the same, wildlife ruled the terrain, and being alone in it was pretty much a death sentence, scared you pretty severely. Not to mention, the time you almost bled to death in the middle of the woods had another hunter not found you.

You had no means of identifying where you’d come back from. All the trees seemed the same to you. You had no idea how you were going to get back to the car at the end of the day; if you were even going to make it out of here by the end of the day. You had been walking for so long that you were sure you’d be sleeping out here tonight. The thought of that frightened you even more. 

What truly unsettled you was that the sounds you had been hearing up until you made it to Blackwater Ridge— crickets, leaves rustling, birds chirping— all of it had been silenced. 

“I'm gonna go take a look around,” Roy announced.

The younger Winchester stopped him. “You shouldn't go off by yourself.”

Roy’s snark almost rivaled Dean’s. “That's sweet. Don't worry about me.” He waved his gun around and pushed between the two brothers to head deeper into the forest. 

Dean turned to the rest of your group. “Alright, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

‘Great. More fucking woods.’ You marched forward, trying to put on a brave face.

Sam’s eyes softened when he caught sight of you. “You okay?”

Apparently, your “brave face” wasn’t as brave as you thought. “Yeah, why?”

“You look… kinda nervous.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m, uh, kinda scared of the forest, honestly.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” Dean’s mocking tone interrupted your vulnerable moment. “You’re scared of a little woods?” He jutted out his bottom lip, feigning a pout. 

“Fuck off, Winchester. I’m fine.”

“Whoa, touchy. Relax.” Dean held his hands up in surrender. “Was just poking fun, that’s all.”

“Okay, well, it wasn’t funny. So, fuck off.” You rushed ahead, still white-knuckling the duffel bag on your shoulder. 

Before Dean could catch up to you or respond, Roy called out from quite a bit ahead. “Haley! Over here!”

Haley took off in the direction of Roy’s voice, closely followed by you. Haley froze at the sight in front of her. “Oh, my God.”

In the clearing Roy had found, bloodied, torn open tents surrounded mutilated camping supplies and backpacks. Deep gashes in the tent material and the surrounding trees were jagged and stained with blood around the edges. The sight wasn’t making your queasiness any better.

“Looks like a grizzly.”

‘No, it doesn’t, Roy,’ you thought. 

Haley’s backpack hit the ground next to you, and she tore through the campsite; screaming her brother’s name. 

Sam moved to quiet her down. She kept screaming. A much harsher “Shh!” passed Sam’s lips, finally getting the girl to settle down. 

“Why?” she questioned defensively. 

“Something might still be out there,” he answered. 

Dean called his brother’s name from the other end of the campsite. You followed Sam over to the sound of Dean’s voice.

You crouched down next to Sam. Dean snapped a stick and pointed to a set of drag marks on the ground. “The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird. I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog.”

The three of you stood and returned to the campsite to find Haley crying on the ground over her brother’s broken and bloodied phone. 

“Hey, he could still be alive,” Dean told her. She shot him a confused and slightly angry look. 

Out of nowhere, a scratchy male voice started gutturally calling, “Help! Help!”

Roy was quick to run to the shouter’s aid. However, you weren’t so sure it was a real person screaming like that. 

“Help! Somebody!” came again.

The brothers started off to follow Roy. 

“Wait, guys!” you called, not wanting to be left alone despite your hesitation. 

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” Sam called.

You dropped your duffel in your rush to follow Sam’s voice. When you found where the group had gathered, you could see the brothers searching the treeline. You licked your teeth, upset that your intuition was right. Your group had found no one.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?” Haley said, confused.

“Everybody get back to camp,” you ordered.

You followed the path you were pretty sure would get you back to the mangled campsite. Thankfully, your sense of direction was right, but all of your supplies had been taken by the time you returned. 

“Our packs!” Haley exclaimed.

Roy grumbled, “So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.”

“What the hell is going on?” Haley was catching on. 

“It’s smart. It’s trying to isolate us so we can’t call for help. It knows we won’t last long without supplies,” you stated. 

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” The guide’s voice was hard and angry.

“I need to speak with you two. In private.” You pulled the brothers aside by their jackets. Dean shrugged your hand off him. 

“Can I see your dad’s journal?” you asked. Yours had been taken along with your duffel bag. 

“No, why?” Dean asked petulantly. 

“Please, dude, c’mon.” You were not in the mood.

“Give it to her, Dean,” Sam chimed in.

Dean rolled his eyes and handed it over. 

You flipped through until you found a page marked by a First Nations-style drawing of a tall figure with long claws labeled “Wendigo.” You looked up at the boys expectantly.

“Oh, come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west,” Dean responded.

“Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice,” you tried to reason. 

“Great.” He took his pistol out of his belt. “Well, then this is useless.”

“I told you guns don’t work on everything,” you quipped.

“Shut up.”

Sam took the journal from you and handed it back to his brother. “We gotta get these people to safety.” He led you and Dean back to the group. “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

Haley seemed pissed. “What?”

“Kid, don't worry.” Roy’s tone was almost patronizing. “Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.”

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now,” Sam countered. 

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy was now getting in Sam’s face.

“C’mon, Roy, chill out,” you told him, pressing a hand to Sam’s chest to keep him from stepping to Roy.

Sam let you keep your hand there, but still bit back at Roy. “We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.”

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.” The guide was so close you could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath.

Sam still refused to back down. “Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.”

Roy laughed mockingly. “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—” 

Dean pushed you out the way and shoved his brother back. “Relax!”

Haley got between you, the boys, and Roy. “Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.”

You considered for a moment the implications of what may happen if you allowed them to stay. 

Dean broke the silence. “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?” Haley asked. 

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this,” you began. “We don’t really have the time for the ‘monsters under the bed are real’ talk. This thing is a Wendigo. I’m gonna start carving some symbols into the ground. No one crosses the circle once I’ve drawn it. Got it?”

Haley nodded at you. “What can I do?”

“Build a fire with— sorry, I never caught his name,” you gestured to the teenager next to her. 

“Ben,” Haley told you. 

“Ben. You two start gathering enough wood and tinder to keep a fire going. Don’t go too far, though, please.”

She and Ben nodded at you before setting off.

“Thank you,” you called after the Collins siblings. “Sam, Dean, help me with the Anasazi symbols.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. You were surprised at his compliance.

After a while of scuttling across the forest floor drawing a circle of Anasazi symbols around the campsite, the sun had set. Haley and Ben had long since returned and were tending the fire. As you finished the last symbol, you brushed the dirt off your hands on your jeans. 

Haley looked up at you from her place by the fire. “One more time, that's—”

“Anasazi symbols. It's for protection,” Dean explained. “The wendigo can't cross over them.”

Roy laughed, feeling the need to assert the fact he thought this was bullshit. 

“Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy,” Dean told him, clearly fatigued of the man’s attitude.

Roy turned his attention back to the treeline with his gun over his shoulder. You followed Dean over to where Sam sat away from the group at the edge of the campsite. 

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asked his brother.

“Dean—” the younger one began to protest. You sat down next to him.

“No, you're not fine.” Of course, he already knew what Sam was going to say.  “You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got enough of that attitude with just him, Sam.”

Dean nudged the tip of your boot with his harshly. You returned his glare petulantly. 

“Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?” Sam’s mind was clearly going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek.”

You decided to just sit back and listen for a moment before throwing your two cents in. 

“Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?” Sam threw his hands up in frustration. 

“This is why.” Dean held out his dad’s journal to his brother. “This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam shook his head. “That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us? Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?”

“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.”

Sam’s eyes began to well with tears. “Dean, no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about.”

“Okay, all right, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me.” Sam looked up at Dean. “You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.”

Sam looked away again, still fighting the tears congealing in his water line. “How do you two do it? How does Dad do it?”

You let Dean take that question. “Well for one, them.” He gestured to Haley and Ben. “I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.”

You paused, looking down at the dirt and twigs below you before speaking. “It’s kind of the same for me. I don’t have a family anymore.” You felt Dean’s gaze on you, but kept the burning in your cheeks at bay. “This is really all I’ve ever known. I know I couldn’t go back to a normal life after all this. So, I do what I can to help everyone else’s lives feel a little more normal. Not everybody needs to know what’s really out there. It kinda brings me peace knowing I’m helping somebody else live their life relatively worry-free.”

Dean continued. “I'll tell you what else helps.”

You looked back up at him. 

“Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.” 

You smiled at Dean genuinely for the first time. 

A twig snapped, breaking you and the boys out of the little bonding moment you’d just had. The same, slightly unhuman grainy voice screamed out again from somewhere in the trees. “Help me! Please!”

Dean stands with his gun. You thought about pointing out the fact that it was useless, but decided to keep it to yourself. 

“Help!” the strained sound came again.

Sam shined his flashlight through the tree line.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put,” Dean told the group.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy quipped.

“Shut up, would you?” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Help! Help me!” The voice seemed to become more distant before a low growl emanated from just outside the circle.

Roy pointed his gun at the sound. “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

“Oh, now you believe us,” you quipped. 

“(Y/N),” Dean warned, still facing the outside of the circle. 

Something rushed past where Haley and Ben were standing. She let out a scream. 

“It's here,” the younger Winchester stated.

The guide shot at the rustling bushes, and then again. “I hit it!” He took off before you could protest.

“Roy, no!” you immediately ran after him.

You could hear Dean behind you addressing the Collinses, but barely registered it while trying to follow Roy. 

“Roy! Come back!” you called. 

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” the man called back.

Just as you reached him, something grabbed onto Roy’s shoulders and began pulling him up into the tree above.

“Roy!” you grabbed his ankles, doing your best to pull him back down to the ground. 

Roy was screaming above you, and the Wendigo’s strength was too much for you. Roy’s screaming was cut off sharply by a snapping sound. In that moment, you knew he was gone. You let Roy’s legs go and dropped back down to the ground. 

The Winchester brothers appeared at that second, rushing to your side.

“You okay?” Sam asked, helping you up. “Where’s Roy?”

You shook your head. “He’s gone.”

You and the boys headed back to camp to find Haley and Ben huddled together. Haley was caught off-guard by your return, and nearly took you out with her makeshift torch-weapon. “Shit!” she yelped. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Easy, tiger.”

She threw her torch back into the fire. “Where’s Roy?”

Your smile faded. “I tried to help him. I’m sorry.”

She nodded somberly. A saddened, heavy air fell over your camp as the remaining five of you tried to go to sleep before your undoubtedly busy day tomorrow.

Haley and Ben settled down near the fire with tatters of backpacks and tent material as pillows and blankets respectively. You and Dean forced Sam to lay down and rest because it was evident via the bags under his eyes that he’d had none over the last several days. 

“I’ll take first watch,” you told Dean, settling your back against the stump of a tree near where Sam had started falling asleep.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“First of all, stop calling me that,” you snapped. “Second, it wasn’t a suggestion. I’m taking first watch. Go to sleep.”

“Why are you so insistent on this?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Why don’t you trust me?” you countered.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re the last person to have seen my dad before he ‘mysteriously disappeared’?”

“You’re not seriously suggesting—” you scoffed, and Dean cut you off again.

“Maybe because I don’t even know you. Maybe because you so readily agreed to just hitch a ride with Sam and I the day Jessica died. Maybe those are some good reasons not to trust you.”

“Dean, I had nothing to do with your dad’s disappearance. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m on my own. Sorry that I was just excited to finally have someone willing to take me along with them. And I don’t give a shit about you, honestly. I do give a shit about Sam, though, and I’m not gonna leave while he’s in this headspace. And I wanna help you find your dad.”

“Why do you care so much?” he hissed in retaliation.

“Because I don’t have any family. I want to help reunite yours. Like you said earlier, it helps you feel a little better and sleep a little easier at night.” Your voice had softened considerably, and you turned your attention from Dean to your hands folded in your lap. 

“Fine, but after we find my dad, you’re gone,” he responded after a moment.

“Fine.” You turned away from him, hugging your knees to your chest. “I’m still taking first watch.” 

“Whatever, (Y/N).” You could hear Dean moving around behind you. 

“Goodnight,” you said. 

All you got was a huff in response. 

At some point that night, Sam was actually the one to take over your watch. He’d woken up from a nightmare, and you knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon. You did your best to get some sleep despite your heightened sense of awareness from your unsettling surroundings and the anger you still felt at Dean after your argument. 

When you did awaken, Sam was sitting against the tree next to you, Dean was talking to Haley about the origin of Wendigos, and Haley was grilling Dean about how he knows about monsters.

“Kind of runs in the family,” was all Dean answered her question with. 

You felt Sam push off the tree behind you. You still hadn’t rolled over from your sleeping position. 

“So we've got half a chance in the daylight,” Sam announced to the group. “And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

“Well, hell, you know I'm in,” you heard Dean respond. 

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours',” Sam explained. 

You began stretching while Dean continued educating Haley and Ben. “They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.”

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asked.

“Well, it's always the same,” the older Winchester continued while you started to make your way over to them, brushing leaves out of your hair with your fingers. “During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.”

“Like the Donner Party.” That was the first you’d ever heard Ben speak.

“Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality,” Sam continued. 

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry,” Dean finished.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley waited for the answer with baited breath.

“You're not gonna like it.”

“Tell me.” Haley steeled herself.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It—” Dean seemed to be searching for the right words, “—uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.”

“And then how do we stop it?”

You spoke up for the first time, holding an empty beer bottle, a white cloth, and a can of lighter fluid you’d found from near the camp. “Guns are useless, so, Molotov cocktail, baby.”

You could swear Dean cracked a smile at you, but you refused to acknowledge it. 

The sun had risen much higher since your crew had first started walking. You had passed multiple trees with bloodied claw marks on them. It was starting to unsettle you, quite honestly. You’d just passed the seventh or eighth claw-marked tree  when you decided to bring Sam’s attention to your thought process.

“You know, I was thinking, those claw marks are so clear and distinct. Not at all as jagged as they were on Mr. Shaw’s scar or the tree where the thing snatched Roy. They were almost too easy to follow.”

Almost as if on cue, a low growl rumbled from above and trees rustled. Haley looked up before jerking herself out of the way. And good thing she had, because Roy’s corpse soon landed where she’d stood. 

Dean inspected Roy’s corpse while Sam helped Haley up. “His neck's broke.”

The growling continued. 

Upon hearing the sound, Dean started to bark out, “Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!”

You immediately split. You were always quite a fast runner and light on your feet. You and Haley took the lead of the group and could hear the boys’ thundering footsteps behind you. 

Before you knew it, the growling had landed right in front of you. You and Haley were brought to a skidding halt before the creature. Haley yelped as the creature grabbed your legs and began dragging the two of you. You took the bag of peanut M&Ms you’d stolen from Dean out of your jacket’s inner pocket. You let the bag’s contents out slowly as sticks and rocks scraped up your dragging body. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain on the back of your head before you vision blacked out completely.

The next time you came to, the first thing you felt were your aching wrists and hands on either side of your face. You could faintly hear Dean calling your name, and your vision began to get less hazy as Dean’s voice became more clear. 

When Dean’s annoyingly beautiful, worried face finally came into focus, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper.”

You could hear Sam laughing behind Dean and Dean sighed. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounded relieved. 

Sam reached above you to cut your wrists down. “You okay?”

Despite your aching joints, you said, “Yeah.”

Sam helped you over to one of the cave’s walls. “You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah. Yep,” you groaned. “Where is he?”

“He's gone for now.” 

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, making Sam laugh a little. “Oh, sweet.” You noticed the stolen duffel bags next to you and started rummaging through yours. Haley let out a shriek, causing you to jerk your head in her direction. She’d found her brother, and thankfully, he was alive. 

“Cut him down!” Haley ordered. Sam got to work. 

You found a flare gun in Dean’s duffel bag, saying, “Check it out.” to the rest of your group.

“Flare guns. Those'll work,” Sam responded, grinning.

You laughed, throwing one of the guns at Dean who caught it easily. He twirled it around his finger, smirking at you.

“Enough fooling around, let’s go,” Haley urged. She shouldered her brother, and with Ben’s help, started moving down the mine shaft.

You and Sam held up the rear of the group while Dean took the lead. Amidst the clunky shuffling of Tommy’s weakened body down the shaft, you could hear the same deep, low growling you’d heard in the forest. 

“Looks like someone's home for supper,” quipped Dean, scanning the corridor ahead of him.

“We'll never outrun it,” Haley said.

Dean looked back at you and Sam. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam responded.

“I don’t,” you chimed in.

“You’ll catch on,” Dean shot back. “All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and (Y/N). They’re gonna get you out of here.”

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asked the older Winchester. 

He winked at her, shooting her that same smile he’d shot you one of the first times you’d met him. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He started yelling moments later, walking away from you. “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

‘I bet he does.’ You surprised yourself. ‘What? What the fuck? He’s an asshole.’

Sam’s voice brought you out of your head. “All right, come on! Hurry!”

Your group rushed down the tunnel. You stayed in the rear, and Sam headed up to the front. He began leading your group down to where you could faintly see a bit of daylight peeking through. 

And then, the growling again. 

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Get him outta here!” you instructed the Collinses. 

“(Y/N), no,” Haley told you.

“Go!” you urged her. 

She finally nodded and started pulling her brothers down the tunnel with her. You aimed your flare gun at the direction where the growling was coming from. 

“C’mon, motherfucker,” you grumbled, scanning the tunnel. 

“(Y/N)!” Sam called from behind you. 

You wheeled around to come face to face with the Wendigo. In your startle, you missed your shot with the flare gun. Your only other option was to take off after the three Collins siblings, closely followed by Sam.

“Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry,” Sam ordered the group. “Get behind me.” Given Sam’s size, he was able to hide all three Collinses behind him. You knew your pistol was no use, but you still aimed it at the creature anyway. 

The Wendigo approached, taking its time in getting to you. 

“Hey!” you suddenly heard Dean from behind the Wendigo. It wheeled around, only for Dean to shoot it in the stomach. 

Flames curled up the Wendigo’s horribly disfigured body in twisted tendrils. The creature let out a howl before collapsing to the ground in a pile of burning embers. 

Dean was revealed behind where the Wendigo previously stood. “Not bad, huh?”

Despite yourself, you grinned. 

A quite chipper, clearly freshman EMT had patched you up upon your return to civilization. You had an uncomfortable laceration on your neck, a few scrapes above your eyebrow, and your wrists burned from where you had been tied up. You’d survive, it would just take you a few days to recover from. 

You watched from a short distance as Haley approached Dean, both of whom had been patched up. You scowled as Dean smirked lasciviously at Haley and couldn’t help the bile rising in your throat when Haley leaned in to kiss Dean’s cheek. She said one final thing to Dean before walking toward the ambulance carrying Tommy with Ben. 

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” she called to you.

You waved at her with a lopsided smile. She returned your grin before hopping into the back of the ambulance. 

Sam motioned for you to come back over to Dean’s car. 

“Man, I hate camping,” said Dean as you approached.

“Me too,” you shivered.

“Still scared of the woods?” he asked you, his tone slightly patronizing.

You ignored his tone and answered earnestly. “Definitely. Probably more so, now.” You crossed your arms over your body and hugged yourself. 

A moment of silence passed before Dean addressed his brother. “Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “But in the meantime? I'm driving.”

Dean lolled his head to the side dramatically before tossing the keys to Sam. Recalling your fight with Dean at the campsite, you hesitated to get in the car when the brothers did. 

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Sam asked out of the driver’s side window. “Let’s go.” 

You nodded, conceding, and hopped into the backseat. You threw your legs up on the leather beside you and stared out the window. Out of the corner of your eye, you could swear Dean was staring at you. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891