spiderluvbot

[spiderluvbot]

tell me why i just had a dream about stack making me sit on his lap and letting me tattoo my name on his lip

i haven't even been able to watch sinners yet, i'm just in love with michael b jordan😭😭😭😭

[spiderluvbot]

fic so good it has me wanting a man to kiss his car

careful what you wish for, dean !

Ride on, Baby !

/┆\

-` under the hood ´- turns out baby is much more than a pretty little ride. thanks to missouri's reading and a mishap with a cursed object you take form as baby ! the real girl. dean's favorite. his constant. the one damn thing he refuses to lose. but how can dean—ever emotionally damaged dean—handle you becoming flesh and blood? especially when you know every scar, every secret, every song he's ever used to keep himself together. you were never just a car. you were home.

-` shocks n struts ´- canon divergence au, mutual pining, fluff / humor, mostly lore accurate elements, sam and dean banter, mentions of john and mary winchester 4.5k words

“Oh, I knew I could count on you boys,” Missouri sighs, giving each of their arms a gentle squeeze. The warm sun settles over them like a blessing, soft and golden in the aftermath of a clean hunt. Wins have been rare lately, too rare, and this one feels like breathing again. Like purpose. Dean needed this.

“Anytime you need us, we’ll be there,” Dean assures, nodding. He lets Missouri’s gratitude settle into his chest, warm and quiet, easing that ache that’s always sorta just there.

“Yeah,” Sam adds with a small smile. “Anytime.”

Dean can’t help it—he’s already thinking about the drive back. About slipping behind the wheel, cranking the volume up on his favorite tape. The songs he only plays when he lets himself feel… okay.

A soft laugh draws him back. Missouri’s turned to the Impala, one hand sliding affectionately over the gleaming black hood. Her expression shifts to that far-off look she gets when she reads an object. Like it’s whispering to her, letting her in on a secret.

Then, with a slow, knowing smile, she murmurs, “Well, I’ll be damned… she’s got a soul.”

Dean blinks, scowling in confusion. “Come again?”

Missouri cuts him a sharp look. “You heard me.”

She pats the hood. Dean can see the word lashing building up behind her steady gaze. It’s one of the things he admires most about the woman, the natural maternal energy she carries. “Sometimes, if you love something enough, if you pour enough of yourself into it—grief, joy, rage, hope—a little life grows there.” She shrugs, gesturing around her, “everything reacts to human attention. But if you give enough of yourself to something… eventually, the wires spark.”

Dean scoffs, almost laughs—but it dies halfway. He glances at the Impala, at the way the sunlight clings to her curves, he’d never admit it, but even as a child he felt like the car was part of the family just as Sam or Dad were.

But a soul sounds far too much like the plot of a children’s story book. Yes, magic is real—strange things happen everyday in this life, but it’s never this pure. No, it’s grim. Unruly. Dean knows better than to sit in the daydream of his baby being anything more than metal and oil.

He scoffs, but there’s no heat behind it. He doesn’t believe Missouri, but this isn’t a soapbox worth stepping on. “Great. So what you’re saying is I’ve been emotionally codependent on my car and now she’s got a soul?”

Missouri raises an eyebrow. “I’m saying you gave her more of yourself than you’ve given most people.”

Those words make the blood rush to his face—but he shakes the feeling before it can grow roots in his mind.

Dean lets out a low whistle, giving the Impala an appreciative pat. “Well, hell. Guess that makes her the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”

“Probably the healthiest, too,” Sam mutters.

Dean’s flat expression is on his brother just as Sam starts to chuckle at his own remark, but Missouri just smiles, turning back toward her house. “You boys drive safe,” she calls. “And treat her with a little more respect. She’s been carrying your sorry asses for your entire lives.”

Dean watches her go, then turns back to the car—to his Baby—and mutters under his breath with a grin, “Don’t let that go to your head, sweetheart.”

Dean sits behind the wheel of the Impala, windows down to let the late afternoon breeze drift through. His FBI suit clings uncomfortably in the sun, but he barely notices—too busy absentmindedly rolling a coin through his fingers while waiting on Sam.

This coin is the reason they're even in this dusty corner of South Dakota. Word around town is that the local underground gambling scene’s been getting their wishes granted—so long as they’ve got this coin in hand.

It’s small, worn, with a faded face stamped on one side and strange markings around the edge. Dean knows it's old—how old, he leaves to Sam, who could probably date it down to the century and rattle off the dead guy’s name without blinking.

Dean glances at the coin, then at the dash.

He always talks to his car. Or, at the very least, thinks out loud when he’s in her. But after Missouri’s reading… it feels different. Like maybe, if he says the wrong thing, the Impala might answer—maybe through a flicker of static or a song that knows too much.

“You ever notice how this crap always looks the same?” he mutters, flipping the coin between his knuckles. “Some crusty seal, some guy who’s been dead a thousand years, some Latin no one’s translated since the plague—and somehow it always gives you what you want… right before it screws you.”

He pauses, listening to the birds outside. Not waiting for a reply—he’s not that far gone.

“Anyway,” he sighs, settling back, “we’ll salt and burn it like we always do, yada yada, save the town—and then it’s back to the road, Baby. Just you and me.” He smiles, affectionately running a hand over the steering wheel before tilting his head in thought, “well… and Sammy, too.” 

He flicks the coin into the air a few times, watching it shoot up from his thumb and land cool against his palm. “Would be nice if these damn things made wishes come true without demanding a soul or some other evil crap.” 

He lets out a bitter huff, “I’d wish for what Missouri said to be true,” he sighs, “that I could love something enough to make it real.” 

He scoffs at himself, rubbing a hand over his face before dropping the coin back into its pouch and tossing it onto the passenger seat like it burns. “Jesus. I think the sleep deprivation’s finally caught up with me.”

He glances at the rearview mirror and raises an eyebrow at his reflection. “You know I’m only half crazy, right?”

Then he pushes the door open and climbs out, muttering, “I’m gonna find Sam before this gets any weirder.”

The Impala sits quiet and still behind him, her glossy black frame catching the sun. On the seat, the coin—unnoticed—begins to glow faintly through the fabric of the pouch.

Dean finds Sam pacing outside the motel office, phone pressed to his ear, mid-rant about pagan gods and enchanted coins. Dean barely catches half of it—his head still half in the Impala, half stuck on the strange weight the coin left behind.

“…and there’s an inscription on it in Latin,” Sam says, flipping through mental notes, “which I think translates to—” He stops abruptly, brow furrowing. “Uh… Dean?”

Dean lifts a brow. “Yeah?”

Sam steps back a little, eyes narrowing. “Who the hell is that?”

Dean turns, following Sam’s gaze—and stops cold.

You’re leaned up against the Impala, checking your reflection in the side mirror like you’ve done it a thousand times. Then you straighten, one ankle crossing over the other, arms folded neatly across your chest as you watch them. You look… patient. Like you’ve been waiting.

Your hair glints in the sunlight, smooth and sleek like the Impala’s body. Your nails are silver and sharp, catching the light with each twitch of your fingers. And your outfit has Dean’s brain short-circuits for half a second. A little black babydoll dress, silk blouse beneath, bold red tights, glossy Mary Janes—you look like you just walked out of a 1960s dream.

And then your eyes glow.

Silver.

Dean’s already reaching for his gun. Because of course you’re not just some bombshell lounging against his car. That’d be too easy. He can’t shake how weird everything has been since they left Missouri’s. He’s not even surprised that this simple case of a cursed object has new creatures popping up in this sleepy town. His mind races with each step, not a vamp, not a werewolf, not a shifter—he’s sizing you up and hoping that whatever the hell you are, his bullets can do some damage. 

The boys close in—scowls sharp, posture tense.

You don’t flinch. Don’t even blink. You just tilt your head, calm as a cat. You’ve never been on this side of those hunter-hardened stares. It almost makes you laugh, because you know them as the brothers that bicker and sing with each other within the same hour. 

You know the fears they voice on dark backroads, when life gets too exhausting—even for them. The bravest boys you know.

The ones you keep safe. Everyday. 

Dean growls, “What the hell—”

Because you’re their only semblance of home. 

You hum softly, interrupting. “Took you long enough.”

Dean blinks. “What?”

“Do we know you?” Sam asks warily. His gentle skepticism makes you smile, you always did love how soft Sam can be. Even as a little toddler with few words in his vocabulary, he’d always find a way to ask if someone else is okay. 

You glance between the two of them, then back at the car, back to them. “Only for your entire lives.”

There’s a silent stand-off and the boys look almost dumbfounded before the horror of realization dawns on the two. You have to bite your lip to hold back your laughter. John would probably slap them upside the heads for this little mishap, and your angered soul would burn a hole in the oil line just so that he’d have to take a trip to Bobby’s to fix it. Where the boys sprinted from the backseat and into the house, barely paying you any mind. 

But that never bothered you when you’d catch glimpses of those smiles of theirs through the living room windows. 

“No way,” Dean squints. 

“Dean, what the hell did you do?”

Scoffing, Dean turns to his brother with his hands at his hips. “Why do you immediately assume I did something?”

Your eyes bounce between the two as you let out a huff, letting your head slump back. Clearly, they need a moment. When do they not need a moment?

Sam’s completely turned his attention to the side, having deemed you as not-a-threat, his anger is on Dean. “I left you with the coin. Who else would wish for his car to turn into a woman?”

“Whoa, hey,” Dean snaps, defensive. “I would never go all Geppetto on my Baby.”

Sam rolls his eyes, rubbing his brow. “Uh-huh.”

Dean shifts uncomfortably. “I may have… briefly thought out loud about what Missouri said…”

“Jesus, Dean.”

You can’t help it anymore, you chuckle, light at first but it quickly devolves to a laughing fit. Dean certainly wasn’t just briefly thinking out loud. At some point, maybe when he was twenty-six and it was just you—the car—, him and the open road, when his thoughts became a one-sided dialogue you didn’t mind hearing. 

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” you say, gliding your hand along the Impala’s roof like it’s still part of you. “But it is nice to have some legs to stretch. Being the soul of a car does have its… limitations.”

Sam groans. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

The motel room smells like stale air conditioning and something vaguely lemon-scented—and you love it.

You’ve only ever seen peaks through windows of what inside is like. Inside motel rooms, diners, Bobby’s, Jodi’s. The list goes on, and it never really bothered you much to be outside like some car-guardsmen. But now that you’re here, with your boys, you’re not sure how you could ever be satisfied as nothing more than a pretty piece of metal ever again. 

Your fingers skim over the fake wood nightstand, flick the chain on the lamp, pause on the cheap notepad with the motel’s name printed in faded green ink. Everything feels small. Fragile. So… new.

You press a finger into the mattress and marvel at the way it gives under your touch. Softer than seat foam. Bouncier, too. And the pillows? Downright insultingly fluffy.

“Okay, okay—don’t touch that,” Dean snaps, snatching the TV remote from your hand just as the screen flickers blue. He groans. “Jesus. That could’ve been pay-per-view porn, Sammy. She doesn’t need to see that yet!”

You grin, already buzzing with amusement from watching Dean. Seeing him through real eyes is better, much better. And so isn’t making him blush. “Oh,” you quip, all wide-eyed, “but it’s fine when you stash those boob magazines in my trunk?”

Dean raises a brow, playing innocent but the color is drained from his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sam, pacing with both hands buried in his hair, spins around. “Dean, focus. A cursed coin turned your car into a person. We need to figure out how to reverse it before—” he waves a hand at you—“before we find out what else she can do.”

You glance down at yourself, wiggling your fingers, flexing your legs. Everything feels warm—like an engine left running on a summer night. But softer. Quieter. Human.

“Uh, Sammy?” you start, gesturing to your very solid, very real form. “Pretty sure I’m just a regular-shmegular human. Got skin, a heartbeat, even blinked a few times. Just a hunch.”

Dean opens his mouth, ready with some smartass remark—then stops. Rubs the back of his neck like it personally offended him. “Well… at least she’s got jokes.”

That earns both of you a Sam-eye roll, “No, Dean, she has your jokes. She sounds exactly like you!”

You flash a grin, drop onto the mattress, and bounce like it’s your first carnival ride. “Guess I take after my maker.” You shoot Dean a wink. “Daddy.”

Dean chokes on air. “Okay—nope. Nope. Not doing that.”

Sam exhales sharply, dragging his hands down his face. “Okay! This is officially the weirdest night of my life, so why don’t we—no, actually, you two… stay here. Don’t touch anything else.”

Dean throws a hand up, indignant. “What, like I’m the one who wished my damn car into a person?”

“You literally were holding the coin!” Sam gestures between you two. “And you talk to her all the time! Missouri said your emotions were tied up in her. And now—poof. Flesh and blood.”

You wave politely. “Hi. Yes, that’s actually exactly what got us all here.”

Sam points at you, like you're Exhibit A in a trial. “See?!”

Dean shifts uncomfortably, jaw working like he wants to say something but can’t quite figure out how. You watch him, amused.

“I wasn’t wishing, okay?” Dean mutters. “Like I said, I was just… thinking out loud.”

“Well, next time try not to think so loudly around cursed objects,” Sam snaps. “Because now I’ve got to figure out how to fix this before the universe does what it always does and bites us in the ass.”

You tilt your head. “So what’s the plan? You gonna turn me back into a car? Just shove me in reverse and hope for the best?”

Sam rubs his temples. “No. Maybe. I don’t know yet. But I’ve got a lead.”

Dean lifts a brow. “On what?”

Sam snatches his laptop from the table and slings his bag over his shoulder. “There’s a minor Roman god—Invictus. God of victory, the unconquered sun, immortality, wishes granted through battle or sacrifice—he’s connected to enchanted coins, especially ones like that.” He nods toward the pouch lying on the dresser like a live grenade.

“Invictus?” Dean repeats. “Sounds like a cologne.”

“Yeah, well, if your cologne starts rewriting reality, let me know.”

You lounge back on the bed, arms behind your head, tapping the toes of your shoes like you still can’t believe these limbs are yours. “So what—you think Invictus made the coin?”

“I think it’s connected,” Sam says. “There’s a small collection of Roman relics archived at Black Hills State. I’m going to the campus library—see what I can dig up.”

“Be back by dinner?” Dean asks, hopeful. He’s not sure how long he can stay with just you and him. It’s too weird, and he’s conflicted between shameful excitement and fear of whatever the hell this mean for you and what you are now. 

“Don’t hold your breath.”

Dean watches Sam head for the door, then glances back at you. You’re stretched out on the mattress now, studying the motel ceiling like it's the Sistine Chapel.

Sam pauses at the door and looks over his shoulder. “Dean, seriously—don’t let her go anywhere.”

Dean scoffs. “She’s a person, Sam, not a possessed toaster.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “You wished her into existence. That makes her your responsibility.”

The door slams behind him.

A silence settles between you and Dean. You sit up slowly, cross-legged now, your head tilting.

“So…” you begin. “What do people do when they’re not a car?”

Dean stares at you for a beat. He’s not even going to think about how that sentence has probably never been said before in the history of everything. Instead, he shrugs, “Eat. Sleep. Watch TV. Argue with Sam.”

“Sounds kinda boring.”

He cracks a faint smile. “Yeah, well. Welcome to humanity.”

It’s unnervingly quiet to be human, there's no settling engine noises or cars wooshing past on a nearby road. The big black box Dean didn’t want you looking at made noise, so you reach for the remote again.

Dean snatches it out of your hand like it’s a loaded weapon. “Nope. No TV. Let’s, uh… let’s get food. Yeah. You eat, right?”

You blink up at him, wide-eyed. “No clue, man. I’ve only been human for like an hour. But I’ve watched you inhale enough burgers to kill a lesser species, so I’d love to know what that’s about.”

Dean mutters, half under his breath, “It’s like I’m talking to myself trapped in a smokeshow straight outta Mad Men.”

You clap him on the shoulder, breezing past toward the door. “Easy, Winchester. Try not to short-circuit. Let’s go.”

The diner’s tile floor squeaks under your shoes as you walk in, eyes darting across the booths and barstools like a kid seeing the world for the first time. You’re buzzing. Not with electricity like you used to, but something warmer. Quieter. You feel giddy. 

Dean grunts as he holds the door for you. His eyes sweep the room, and he trails in behind you closer than necessary. “Try not to lick anything.”

You grin up at him. “Can’t make any promises. Everything smells so… greasy and mysterious.”

Dean gives you a look as he heads to a booth in the back. “You always this chatty in your head?”

You plop down across from him, tugging at the ends of your sleeves. “Only when you’re playing AC/DC on repeat for twelve hours. A girl’s gotta entertain herself somehow.” 

He smirks, opening his menu. “Didn’t realize I gave my car a damn personality.”

“You gave me a soul, technically. That’s on you.”

Dean freezes mid-flip of the menu, jaw tightening just a little. “Yeah. Guess it is. And hey—you sayin’ you don’t like my music?”

You throw your hand over your chest, fake exasperated, “I would never. I simply prefer twelve straight hours of Zeppelin, thank you very much." You know this man well enough to know his particular music taste is woven around his heart. 

He looks up from his menu, cheeks tugging into a crooked grin, “good answer.” 

You tilt your head, watching him. Feeling him out, he’s spent enough of his life with his hands wrapped around some part of you that you can sense when something is off. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” he says, a little too breezy. “Just tryin’ to wrap my head around the fact that I’m sitting in a diner across from my Chevy Impala, who’s now got legs, opinions, and sass.”

You raise your hand. “Don’t forget taste buds.”

“God help us.”

The waitress swings by, popping gum and scribbling orders. You get the same thing Dean does, because it feels like the right choice—like muscle memory in a body that’s never eaten before.

Once she’s gone, you rest your elbows on the table, looking at him with a strange softness. “So. What now? You planning to garage me? Take me for a walk? Teach me tricks?”

Dean chuckles under his breath. “You’re a damn menace, you know that?”

You smile. “You love it. Besides, this is weird. But we don’t have to let it feel weird, y’know? I mean, technically I’ve known you for as long as your parents have. I’m not a stranger, Dean.”

He meets your eyes for a beat too long. “Do you remember them, my parents?” 

You pause, surprised he asked but not unwilling to answer. Your fingers trace idle shapes on the condensation of your water glass as you search for the right words. You’re suddenly grateful for the background chatter and clinks of the diner. Sound, distraction, something simple that can keep you grounded for the moment.  

“Yeah,” you start softly, “I remember them.”

Dean doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. He’s biting down, trying to contain his expressions for whatever you might say. It’s both pain and relief to know more about his parents before that dreadful night in November. Something he wants to know, but it always ends up feeding that ache in his chest in the long run.

“Your mom,” you smile, “she had this laugh—light and fast, like she already knew the punchline to every joke. She used to sing to you in the backseat. Off-key, real sweet. Gosh, she was such a Mamabear, too. Nothing was gonna hurt her babies, that’s for sure.” 

Your eyes flick up to meet Dean’s, and he winches at your words. They sound like a compliment, but her the manner of her death makes it feel more like an omen of how she met her end. 

“Well, then there was your dad…” you trail off, struggling for a second to recall John before he was angry John as you often thought of him. “He was different back then. Soft. Kind. He used to talk to you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him.”

Dean’s mouth opens like wants to say something—but no sound comes, so you keep going. 

“After Mary, um… was gone, it all changed. I watched him go from this gentle giant who kept a hand on the wheel and an eye on you in the rearview mirror, to someone… colder. Angry. He didn’t smile much. Started barking orders instead of saying good morning.”

Dean’s silent when you meet his eyes again. You take a deep breath, sitting back in your seat. It’s a quiet passing of though between you two. He looks smaller now, like the words are breaking him down where he sits. But gently, he nods. 

“It was like someone flipped a switch,” you continue, “And I couldn’t do anything about it. Couldn’t stop it. And you—” you swallow the unfamiliar lump in your throat, eyes burning like salt on a rust spot, “God, Dean, you just… you tried so hard to be brave. Even when you were too little to understand why everything hurt so much.” 

Dean just stares at you, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your voice. Like hearing this from you—his one constant in all that chaos—makes it real in a way nothing else could. 

He leans back, jaw clenched as he pinches at his eyes. “I always wondered what he was like before.” His voice is quiet, soft, and when his eyes meet yours again theres so much hurt swimming in those pretty green eyes it makes your chest hurt. “But at least something, or someone, I guess… noticed me. Noticed what it was like for me.” 

You nod, fidgeting with the silky cuff of your sleeve, “he did love you, Dean. That never went away. I think it just got buried under a mountain of fear. It’s not fair… but I guess nothing has ever really been fair, right?” 

He huffs a dry laugh, nodding in agreement. A quietness settles over the table. Not entirely awkward—just full. There’s too much history, too many feelings in this conversation. So you smile, soft and small. 

“So… yeah. I’m not a total stranger. I’ve been riding shotgun for your whole damn life.”

Your words ease a genuine laugh from Dean, and he lets it take the stress off his shoulders. “Jesus, I guess so. What would I do without you?”

You shrug, already feeling the tension start to ease, “probably be stuck breaking down every other night with a much shittier car.” 

The waitress swings back into the little world you’ve created in this corner booth, arms full of heaping piles of grease and carbs. Your eyes grow the size of saucers as you size up the food before you. 

“Let me know if you two need anythin’ else,” she chimes before moving onto the table next to you. You’re still staring at the food when Dean clears his throat to get your attention. 

“Alright, Baby,” he states, and hearing your name roll off his tongue with that serious tone of his makes your heart flutter, “let’s see what being human tastes like. And if you hate burgers, I’m driving you straight back to that coin.” 

You sit up straighter, eyes wide with mock offense. “If I hate burgers, you’re gonna re-coin me? What is this, Pimp My Ride: Eternal Damnation Edition?”

Being the soul of a car is strange, but it’s the only thing you know. One thing you’ve always felt with absolute certainty was a deep fondness and love for this odd human across from you. Getting to join in on his play, his banter, is sweeter than you could have ever imagined. 

Dean’s brow shoots up, and he’s looking just as excited to have someone join him in his bit. “I’m just saying, Baby, there are lines even I won’t cross.”

You gasp, “and here I thought unconditional love meant something to you.”

You pause, then lean in, grinning. “Besides, odds are if you like it, I’m hardwired to like it too. Might even need my own shiny weapon to start hunting with. I’m thinking a colt like you, but all sleek and black like my paint job.”

Dean groans, gutteral, like he didn’t mean for the sound to come out. It’s quickly fixed by the charming smile that claims his face as he chuckles. “As hot as that sounds, I’m not sure I trust your aim.”

“Can’t be that hard, besides, I’ve got you to teach me don’t I?” You wink back at him.

Dean’s shaking his head, half-laughing, but you’re not done. “Just promise me you won’t go all grumpy mechanic on me. I’ve seen what you can do with a crowbar.” 

His cheeks color, a bit embarrassed as he winces at the memory. It was shortly after John passed that Dean let all that pent-up anger unleash onto the battered frame of the Impala. And unbeknownst to him, onto a little hidden soul that was sharing his pain. “Yeah… sorry about that, sweetheart."

You laugh softly and wave it off, “you turned around and made me brand new after that. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” 

Dean’s smile softens, and he’s looking at you like he’s really seeing you for the first time. His baby, his silent comrade. You’ve always been there when he needs you, and you always will be. It’s up to Sam and Dean whether or not that happens in this human form, or as the beating soul of an old ride.

geeking on this one bc the silver details on reader are for the impala's silver details and she was made in '67 so helloooo 60s style fit for dean's favorite girl anyways this was fun hope y'all enjoyed it <3

tag list 𐚁 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @daylighted @jollyhunter @soldiersgirl @bejeweledinterludes @bluemerakis @cowboysandcigarettes @littlesoulshine @couturewinx @ultravi0lence14 @snowluvvie @flow33didontsmoke @figthoughts @tinas111 @fitxgrld @rubyvhs @stoneyggirl2 @faephoria @deans-yn @spiidergirlsworld @loverslantern comment to be added / removed !

[spiderluvbot]

did well in all of my exams, had a bunch of weird creepy dreams, got called a witch and i'm currently watching coraline and writing. we're so back

[spiderluvbot]

“But he’s older than you.”

God forbid I take care of the elderly.

[spiderluvbot]

you’re seconds away from being blocked (old man lover) /j i actually love you but baby this isn’t you

baby my first crush was jason isaacs as captain hook, i'm afraid I've been cursed with dilf obsession since birth

[spiderluvbot]

saw a pretty old man on my tv and fell to my knees

[spiderluvbot]

baby i'm gonna be honest with you, it's too late to look away, the things i would let these men do to me

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and i'd still ride.

i need a non insane sounding way to explain the way i feel about old evil men using the stupid hand pin:

@mothswan baby i am FAILING YOU i'm so sorry

[spiderluvbot]

i need a non insane sounding way to explain the way i feel about old evil men using the stupid hand pin:

@mothswan baby i am FAILING YOU i'm so sorry

[spiderluvbot]

hi!! i’m the same anon that requested the kwon hcs and oh my god they were SO FIRE :33 ill def req more for him again when an idea comes to mind (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

ahhh thank you!! i was scared they were shit lmao

i'm glad you enjoyed them 💗💗💗

[spiderluvbot]

[spiderluvbot]

🖇 DATING HEADCANONS ! cobra kai.

pairing — kwon jae-sung x fem!reader. notes — this is my first time doing these and i honestly don't know if i did it right. it kinda feels incomplete? idk let me know if you like it like this. also, i wanted it to look pretty but now the format is kinda weird?? warnings — i don't think think it's very like fluffy/romantic, sorry. word count — 1568.

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

actually getting to date kwon is probably a miracle on its own, not gonna lie.

⨳ for kwon, karate is the only important thing in his life; he cares about being the best, and that's it. he doesn't like anything that can distract him from that, so if he happened to like you first, he would deny it for as long as he can. ⨳ he would probably be pissed at himself for it. he thinks couples are stupid and that he doesn't have time for that sort of thing. ⨳ as far as everyone knows, he can't stand you. he rolls his eyes every time you speak and walks away every time you're close. ⨳ definitely does the whole flirting to piss you off thing just to see how you react. smirks to himself every time you blush and tries to pass it off as more teasing if someone notices. ⨳ if you liked him first, he would kinda hate you lol. he would find it annoying and probably be a little mean about it, but if you stopped paying attention to him, he'd have to deal with the fact that he doesn't like it when you're not around— and what that actually means (he's having nice feelings and he absolutely hates it 😌).

no one can even imagine him dating.

⨳ once the two of you become a couple, literally no one notices because he acts exactly the same. he's still annoyed when you cheer for him, and he still ignores you. although now, these things are more out of embarrassment and awkwardness. ⨳ it takes him at least a week to do anything remotely relationship-related. ⨳ i'm sorry but you can't convince me this boy has ever dated. he will be blushing and running away from any form of human touch that doesn't come from violence. ⨳ not a fan of physical touch (again, not if it's not violent). he might let you to hold his hand. might. and only if you're alone. ⨳ if anyone finds out he's dating, they'll be surprised. even more if they find out he's dating you of all people. ⨳ don't ever think he'll go easy on you if you train together lol. will probably throw you on the ground and get all cocky about winning. ⨳ if you beat him, he’ll try to look annoyed, but he’s soooo proud. hates it if you catch him, though—because that means at least half an hour of nonstop teasing. he’s walking around with you trailing behind him, going, “you think i’m gorgeous. you wanna kiss me...” (he doesn’t get the reference; he just thinks you’re being annoying.)

he's probably being considerate for the first time in his life.

⨳ he's spent most of his life being angry, so i can definitely see him losing his temper often at the beginning of the relationship, and having to actively stop himself from reacting. ⨳ he's not even mad at you, but sometimes he'll stay angry at something or someone for way too long and accidentally takes it out on you. ⨳ the first (and only) time he made you cry because of this, he went crazy. still, he doesn't trust anyone enough to ask for help, so he ends up googling relationship advice in secret. ⨳ no matter how embarrassing it feels, you're the first important person in his life, and he's not about to lose you. so, he does his research and he apologizes (and means it) for the first time in his life. ⨳ i can picture him having a secret folder in his notes app were he saves reddit threads and articles about how to have a healthy relationship. (there's a slightly emotionally unavailable part of him that thinks it's dumb and not "masculine", so you can bet this thing is locked and password protected. no one is ever finding it as long as he's alive). ⨳ kwon refuses to have you as his phone background— he doesn’t want people thinking he’s whipped (he is). so he also has a secret folder full of pictures of you, most of them are taken without you knowing cause he's embarrassed. ⨳ it takes him a while to get used to all this, but he puts in the effort and tries to get better and be the boyfriend you deserve.

once he starts to get used to dating though? he's a menace.

⨳ he's jealous of everybody. if someone from the dojo even looks at you in a way he doesn't like, you can bet they'll leave practice with at least a black eye. ⨳ weird headcannon i have, but if you sit next to him and do that thing where someone places their leg on top of someone else's, i think he would hate how it feels but wouldn't say anything. ⨳ on the rare occasion you don't do that, he likes to manspread just to annoy you, he likes it when you scold him and push his knee cause he thinks you look cute when you're angry (he apologizes immediately after but he's still laughing about it). ⨳ he teases you about everything— think andy in parks and rec, going “babe, you had a crush on me? that’s so embarrassing.” ⨳ still not that big on physical touch, but if he's tired and sees you lying down, he will throw himself on top of you and fall asleep; he doesn't really care if he's crushing you. ⨳ even though he managed to get used to actually showing his emotions, i can see him being more comfortable with making out/hooking up (things that feel more sexual and less romantic), so if you give him a soft, affectionate kiss, he pretty much just stops functioning. ⨳ he'll blame it on training hard, but if you kiss him slow and grab his face while doing it? his heart definitely starts pounding.

when things start to get serious he freaks out.

⨳ he realizes he loves you and proceeds to ignore you for a week. ⨳ spends even more time training. he's even angrier than usual (somehow) and no one wants to train with him because he looks like he's about to murder someone. ⨳ if you're friends with tory, she's definitely going to threaten him for making you sad. ⨳ a part of him is pissed at her for butting into things that "aren't her business", but he's glad you have good friends to take care of you. ⨳ when he finally tells you, he tries to act nonchalant, but he’s so nervous about your reaction. probably won't make eye contact. ⨳ when you say it back he doesn't know how to react, even though he's been hoping to hear it for a while.

since he's never had a relationship he can be uncomfortable with important things

⨳ okay, we know from s6 that he doesn't actually have a family, so i feel like at first he wouldn't like the idea of meeting yours. ⨳ would probably make a lot of excuses. in the end, you have to drag him to your house. ⨳ your parents are really nice and compliment him a lot. he's super awkward all night but he tries hard to make a good first impression. ⨳ helps set the table and do the dishes. probably tried to trick you into telling him what to talk to your parents about (i say trick because he refuses to ask). ⨳ once sensei kim finds out, he really wants her to approve the relationship. he's kinda scared she'll think it'll affect his performance, even if he doesn't admit it.

overall, he's trying to do his best and slowly gets fully comfortable with everything.

⨳ he lives alone, so he had to learn how to cook for himself from a pretty young age. when you first started dating, he got mad when you implied that it turned into a hobby for him and that he was good at it, now he fully accepts it and likes to cook together, even more if you're bad at it and he gets to teach you. ⨳ if you're really into skincare, you force him to do it with you and he pretends to hate it, but every time you use a face mask you have to have one for him too. ⨳ once he's not, you know, ashamed of having normal feelings, he starts to hold your hand everywhere. gives mean looks to everyone that tries to mention it. ⨳ he loves to play with your hair. started doing it at the beginning of the relationship without noticing and got ashamed when you pointed it out, so he stopped for a while, but now he does it all the time. ⨳ grows to love long hugs and cuddling, especially when it's cold. will force you to lie down on top of him during movie nights and complains if you get up. ⨳ he also loves it when you wear his hoodies, especially when it's in front of people who know those are his clothes, he probably likes it cause he feels like you're showing them you belong to him lol. ⨳ he doesn't mind how you dress, definitely the "my girl can wear whatever she wants cause i know how to fight" kind of guy. ⨳ if you make him go shopping with you, he acts like he hates it and complains about having to carry your stuff, but in reality, he loves getting to see you try on pretty things and showing them off to him. tried to convince you to make out in a changing room at least five times.

[spiderluvbot]

hi! i saw that your requests are open and i was wondering if you could write kwon (cobra kai) dating hcs? take your time, tysm <3

i wanna post this but tumblrkeeps fucking over the photos and the read more i—

that's fine🙃

i am about to punch my computer :)

anyway, it's posted here.

[spiderluvbot]

i have feelings for jim halpert i wasn't familiar with until indy showed up

ᯓ★ MINORS DNI 18+

JIM HALPERT doesn’t go for brats, but he can’t resist a pair of doe eyes. you don’t whine and cry for what you want, you explain it so innocently while your pretty gaze looks up at him n bats your long lashes. it’s so subtle. he thinks to himself, what a little master manipulator you are… while his canine bites into his lower lip instinctively in a crooked grin. you don’t stomp your feet or hold your breath, no no, you have this perfect move he just can’t refuse. big, wide, n glossy like moonlight reflecting in a stream, you paint him some picture with your words as you use your height to your advantage n peer up at him. small voice staying low and steady, reminding him of how you whispered in his ear last night. “but, jim, you don’t understand…” you begin loftily, and he knows he’s in for it. he’s about to be taken for a ride and he’s not gonna regret it. he doesn’t let you finish, has an out-of-body experience as he hears himself speak: “let’s take a walk.” he tells you, offering his big hand for you to take. this didn’t start out as foreplay, but he sure shows you how cute he thinks you are in the privacy of the stairwell. right before he gives in to all your demands, spoken in that wistful little tune you expel when he’s pushing into you under your skirt for some workplace r&r.

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guys am i just dumb??? 😭😭😭

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you can BET this photo will be used on the fic

I lowkey despise the fact he’s in the US but HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL!

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CHARACTER LIST !

— here is a list of characters/shows i write for, but feel free to request from people or shows not included.

back to navigation. masterlist. guidelines. works in progress.

house of the dragon.

jacaerys velaryon, aemond targaryen, cregan stark, otto hightower.

cobra kai.

daniel larusso, johnny lawrence, chozen toguchi, sensei wolf, miguel diaz, eli moscowitz, tory nichols, samantha larusso, kwon jae-sung, yoon do-jin.

squid game.

hwang in-ho (the frontman/player 001), cho sang-woo (player 218), thanos (player 230).

misc.

roronoa zoro (one piece), ethan landry (scream), luke patterson (julie and the phantoms), kaz brekker (shadow and bone), chris schistad (skam), rafe cameron (outer banks), finnick odair (the hunger games), jim halpert (the office), eric northman (true blood), tywin lannister (game of thrones), jensen ackles characters, james spader characters, mads mikkelsen characters.

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN — you can request here!

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GUYS I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA