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zepskies · 6 months

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A Little Danger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

AN: Couch sex, basically. This is another one for the Espresso-verse! Includes a call back to Devour Me.

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smutty smut in a semi-public place. Hair pulling, flirty teasing, endearments, “twist” ending.

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Usually, Dean likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.

Like now, on a rare day of quiet relaxation after a long hunt. When Mary’s out and Sam’s on a grocery run. And Dean’s laid out across the couch in the library, arms crossed, earbuds in while Zeppelin’s “Going to California” plays in stereo, his head and shoulders resting against your plush thigh.

Your feet are propped up on the coffee table, your mostly bare legs crossed at the ankles. You have a book in one hand while you’ve been absently massaging his head…

But when you start to get weary of reading, in your boredom, your clever fingers become less soothing through his light brown hair, and more playful in their ministrations. You start to push his hair in the opposite direction, making it spike forward in disarray.

Dean frowns. You can’t see it, but you sense the change, in the way he stops bobbing his head lightly in time with the music.

You bite back a smile and continue your little game, even tugging a little on the strands when you push them forward. Like rubbing a cat the wrong way.

Letting out an annoyed breath through his nose, Dean takes out one earbud.

“What. Are you doing?” he asks.

It takes everything within you not to laugh.

“You’re my erizito,” you reply, smiling. You take a peek at his profile and catch the way his brows furrow.

“What the hell’s that?” he asks.

“My little hedgehog,” you translate the Spanish endearment for him, and you tease him, tugging again on his soft strands.

You finally have to giggle at the way he looks back at you from the corner of his eye. You get maybe one more time to sweep your fingers through his hair the wrong way, before he grabs your hand and turns over.

Your resulting squeal turns into laughter when he yanks his earbuds off and plucks your book out of your hand.

“Eh, eh! Don’t lose my place,” you warn, stopping him from closing the book all the way. He allows you to dog-ear your page, but he then tosses the book onto the coffee table to join his phone and earbuds.

“Come ‘ere,” he mutters.

Then he grabs your crossed legs and manhandles you beneath him on the couch. You allow it with a yelp of surprise and much giggling when he jostles you, pulling you down by your hips. Dean lowers himself between your legs, where he’s so often welcome, and settles his body over yours.

You smirk in his face. His hair is all kinds of fucked up.

He can see you’re admiring your handiwork. Little hedgehog, huh?

With a shake of his head, he bows down and silences your teasing with a kiss.

Your eyes fall closed. You breathe in and utter a sound of contentment. You frame his face with your hands and follow the familiar dance of his lips against yours.

A delicious push and pull that has his teeth grazing your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair. His other arm is perched high above your head, giving him leverage to completely cage you with his broad, heavy frame.

But it’s a good heavy. You like the feel of him laid out over you, protective and claiming all at once. And he likes the feeling of every soft curve of yours; thighs, breasts, and soft middle all a welcoming place for him to rest—and then ravage.

His lips veer away from your mouth, allowing you both to catch your breath. He burns a warm, sloppy path along your jawline. You wrap your arms around him and splay your hands across his back. They slide lower as he moves down, and down your neck.

“Babe,” you prompt quietly in his ear. You can’t help but smile. “We’ve gotten in trouble on this couch before.”

As in, you both have been caught buck ass naked and tangled together on this couch. By his brother. Twice.

Dean smirks, just before he starts to tease the shell of your ear with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t like a little danger,” he says.

Right, you think, with a shudder at his tongue. Or, he just has no fucking shame.

You have to giggle regardless. The trembling in your chest moves both of you, makes the shape of Dean’s smile press into your skin. He continues his downward path and rucks up your shirt.

Your knees bend further on reflex and squeeze his hips when his tongue dips between your breasts, still pushed up by your bra. You arch your back so he can slip a hand under your back and unclip the white lace. He slides it off your body, along with getting your shirt up and over your head.

Your hands dive under his layers of red plaid and black undershirt, sliding up and down the smooth slopes of his back, grazing with your nails, getting him worked up enough to have him yank off the layers himself.

He’s left in his jeans, which begin to find friction against your clothed center through the little shorts you often wear around the bunker. Dean both likes them and hates them.

Likes them, because you fill them out well, and he likes getting a handful of your ass (like he’s doing now, while he begins to rock the hard bulge in his jeans against your core while kissing you hungrily).

He also hates these little spandex shorts, because he’d rather his brother not get to see you in them. Still, Dean gets too much enjoyment out of slipping his fingers under them, squeezing your thigh, letting his thumb brush down towards your center.

Already your pussy’s throbbing.

“Need you,” you pant against his lips.

It’s been a bit too long since you two have had this kind of time alone together, not to mention the energy to fool around. It’s making you not really give a fuck about being out in the open in the middle of the library, when your shared bedroom is just down the hall.

Dean nods, then he finally palms one of your breasts like he’s reacquainting himself with an old friend. He rolls a budding nipple between his fingers and moans when he gets the other into his mouth, swirling with his tongue.

He drags a moan out of you too. You delve your hand into his wrecked hair and grip tight to keep him there.

You find yourself writhing underneath him, your hips rolling against his with need.

“Dean…” Your voice is pleading.

“Okay, I gotcha,” he says against your skin. He drags down your little shorts by the hem and reveals bare ass against the couch cushions. He hums with interest. “No panties today?”

“Surprised you didn’t notice,” you quip.

Though you do the work of unclipping his belt and helping him shimmy out of the jeans, letting them pool to the floor alongside your clothes. You roll down his boxer briefs far enough to let his cock spring free. He grabs your arm and utters a deep groan at the way you handle him, with a gentle but firm hand along his shaft.

“Guess I’ve been distracted,” he admits. He presses a forehead against your shoulder and bucks into your hand, the more you tease him. “Fuck, how long’s it been since—”

“A couple weeks,” you answer him. You begin to kiss down his neck, occasionally nipping his skin. “Too long.”

“Too damn long,” he agrees, with another sound of pleasure. He stops your hand so he can concentrate on getting you ready. He slips a long finger down your slit and between the wet folds of your pussy, where you’re already soaking for him, coating his digit.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, “all this for me, baby?”

You breathe a laugh and drag your nails down the back of his neck. “Always.”

Dean grins. Just to be thorough, he slips two fingers into your wet channel. He revels at the way you hold him close by the back of his neck and moan encouragements into his ear. But you cry out when his thumb finds your clit, and circles it with precision. Then the rest of his fingers open you up and rub against your most sensitive places.

As your inner walls tighten, so does your hand; it moves back into his hair so you have something better to hold onto.

“Dean,” you utter a warning. He nods and withdraws his hand from inside you. He peeks over the couch again, just to make sure no one’s coming. You both know this is about to be quick and dirty.

You both are panting when he grasps your hips and gives himself a better angle. You hook your thighs around his waist and give him an encouraging nod. With that, Dean positions himself at your entrance and slowly sheathes his cock deep inside you.

You release a shuddering breath, pressing your head back into the cushions. Your hair is a tangled mess fanning underneath you. He still has a hand planted on the couch’s arm above your head; you grasp his arm for stability. Dean rubs one of your thighs, in part to also get himself together as your inner walls spasm tight around him.

Fuck, it has been a while.

But he’s making up for lost time. He gives you long, steady strokes at first, letting you feel every inch of his cock as he drives back into you. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine and you arch against him, your hands clasped on his arms.

Your heels pressing into his ass spur him on and speed up his rhythm, until he’s hitting so hard and deep against your cervix that it almost hurts. It’s a mix of intense pleasure tinged with that briefest bit of pain as he also hits your G-spot over and over.

But a few purposeful swipes of his thumb over your clit ensures that you come with him when he finally spills into you. He buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder, and a ragged grunt rolls from his throat as his release truly hits him.

You hold him to you, your own thighs quivering along with his last few strokes inside you. That hot coil snaps and you let out a gasping moan—one he swallows up with a deep kiss.

“Jesus,” you breathe, after he releases your lips. Dean catches his breath and gives you a shrug, despite his smug grin.

You smirk and once again sweep your hand through his ridiculous hair. It’s even more wild than before. You pull your hands through it, sliding down his neck on both sides.

“I stand corrected,” you say slyly. “Now you’re my erizote.”

Dean snorts. “And that would be?”

“My big hedgehog,” you tease.

Dean rolls his eyes, even as his face warms. He tries not to laugh in the face of your unending giggles.

Neither of you register the footsteps coming closer until it’s just about too late.

“Dean, are you—Oh!”

His face falls, and his eyes widen when they meet his mother’s over the back of the couch.

“Shit!” he exclaims, covering you with his body when you gasp. But it’s not really you that you’re worried about her seeing.

No mother should have to see her adult son’s naked ass.

Mary stands there behind the couch with her hand over her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t see…anything,” she says. Usually she’s a better liar.

“I’m so sorry, Mary,” you try to say, but she waves you off.

“Just…clean the sofa. Okay, guys?” she says. Then she walks away without looking back.

Dean grimaces like he’s in pain.

“Sorry, Mom,” He calls to her retreating back.

He releases a breath and lowers his forehead into the crook of your neck. Your body shakes with involuntary giggles while you hold him, soothing him with a caress of his cheek. He’s still buried deep inside you, but by now he’s released your thighs from being wrapped around his hips.

“At least it wasn’t Sam this time,” you offer.

“I don’t know what’s worse at this point,” Dean grumbles.

You bite your lip. “Well, I mean, I did warn you—”

Dean gives you a playful slap on the ass to shut you up. But your resulting squeal and laughter just makes him smile.

AN: 😅 This one-shot started out innocent, I swear. What was once a simple "chilling on the couch" drabble turned into smut somehow, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. 😘

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "In Bad Weather." It acts as the finale of the Espresso-verse, though I'm still writing stories within the world to fill in the gaps when different prompts come to mind:

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along? [Set in S15 - “Fix It” for season finale]

▶️ Next Story: In Bad Weather

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords

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sardonic-the-writer · 4 months

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𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 [+ 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥] 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: dean, sam, castiel, and gabriel

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: dance macabre—ghost

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧

• When Dean first meets you in the middle of bumfuck nowhere on a hunt, he's not surprised that you know his name

• Afterall, he has brought on the apocalypse more than once, and the hunter community isn't exactly known for its ability for people to keep their mouths shut

• What does surprise him, though, is your knowledge on him as a person

• It's nothing creepy— the thought of someone knowing all about him in that way brings him back to where he first met Becky through Chuck, and the thought makes him shudder —but just enough to where it's obvious you've done some digging and people reading of your own

• "Brought back some pie with dinner; didn't know what you wanted so I got apple."

• "Careful handling this case, it's got some nasty demons. We don't want you diving head first into hell. Again."

• "No no, don't use that. It didn't work on that shape-shifter you ganked last year in Massachusetts, so it won't work on this one. Throw it out." You eventually say one night while looking in Baby's trunk for some ammo, and Dean finally turns to face you

• "How did you know that? How do you know any of these things?" He clears his throat, squinting. You shrug with a barely there smile

• "Who do you think cleans up your messes when you're done, Dean? And what can I say. Word gets around."

• It's a simple case of Dean's reputation preceding him. Although, as you discover, there's a lot more to the Winchester than just his precious car, a strange love for greasy food, and his ability to fight off a demon with his bare hands

• "You sure you aren't obsessed with me? Because its totally fine if you're obsessed. I mean, look at me." Dean asks you at one point while gesturing down at himself. He's leaning on his car door in what he probably thought was a sexy manner, watching as you lugged some equipment out to the vehicle. You manage to press your lips together just in time to hide your amused grin

• "Keep dreaming, man." You shake your head. "There's a difference between reading up on people, and stalking them."

• "So you admit it?" He grins misheviously, pushing himself off Baby. "That you've spent your spare time thinking about me?"

• "Sure. And those witnesses never mentioned you'd be this insufferable." You scoff light heartedly, even though thats exactly what some of them said, and leave it at that. But for the rest of the hunt Dean can't stop elbowing you in the ribs to make a playful remark; something that, strangely, you don't find yourself minding

𝐒𝐚𝐦

• Unlike his brother, Sam takes the information that you practically already knew him with a bit of embarrassment

• Sure, he had been (or was supposed to be) Lucifer's vessel, and sure he also had a habit of being at the center of everything world ending, but he never really conciders him anyone other than a hunter that just happens to get the worst cases

• So when you just offhandedly started dropping these facts about him, he's a little off put

• "How'd you know that?"

• "You're literally one of the most infamous hunters to ever exist, Sam. You tangle with angels. Most of us only ever get to meet a werewolf or two before a friend is organizing our funeral the week after."

• "Oh. Right"

• Gets a little curious after a while as to what you exactly know. It's not like he keeps a journal about his feelings that the public can read, and that this point he's just praying you haven't discovered Chuck's Supernatural series, so he'd probably ask you all of what you know and why you know it

• "So you're telling me you've done research on our hunting styles—" Sam asks you while leaning forward. You nod, so he continues. "—and all the people we've ever pissed off?"

• "Call it too much free time, which I certainly don't have enough of these days, but I knew if I ever ran into you two knuckle heads, and I knew it would happen eventually whether I wanted it to or not, then I would need to be prepared." You dragged a hand down your face and exhaled for a moment. "That meant making a checklist of every vamp, demon, or god you've ever had out for your head. And trust me, it's a lot."

• He's silent for a moment after you finish, but it doesn't take long for him to pipe up again

• "Can I see it?"

• Safe to say, after seeing the list, Sam started to rethink some of his past decisions

• "Seriously, how are we not dead yet??"

• "Buddy, I have no idea."

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

• He does not understand why you seem to know so much about him. Not only as a person, but as an angel

• Castiel is used to the Winchester's asking questions. The first year of knowing them was filled with 'How Did You Do That''s and 'Can You Do This''s. He'd answer all of them, even if he found their questions to be on a kindergarten level most of the time, until eventually they had no more to ask

• You hadn't been like that. Castiel doesn't think he could ever recall you asking him things unless they were about hunts or special circumstances, like the time Sam lost his soul. Hell, you seemed to know more about him than some angels knew about themselves

• Grace knowledge, wing anatomy, biblical lore—you name it and Castiel's probably heard it come out of your mouth at some point

• He gets around to asking you about it one day, albeit very bluntly

• "You don't ask questions." Castiels voice sounds from behind you. You don't even bother to turn around; you heard his wings flutter the moment before he dropped in

• "What do you mean Cas?" You sucked some air between your teeth as you scribbled away at the papers before you. It was something Sam had asked you to follow up on, and you'd been at it for a hot minute now. Hopefully you could make this conversation quick so you could get back to it

• "About angels." A beat of silence. "About me."

• This time you do turn around in your seat to look at him. He's already studying you with that silent squint, and you resist the urge to mirror it

• "Why would I ask questions I already know the answers to?" You parry. The case papers lay on the table, forgotten by now. Your response gets you a rare, but endearing, Cas head tilt

• Upon further questioning, he finds out you'd spent a lot of your early hunting years doing nothing but reading up on anything remotely supernatural. Even calling them 'hunting years' was a stretch. You were more like a crazed researcher that never left the library than a hunter, even resorting to keep mountains upon mountains of notes on ancient lore stored away in the margins of dusty books

• "That's certainly explains why you weren't surprised when we met for the first time and I healed you." Cas's low voice drawled slowly after you gave him a moment to interject. "Or how you knew the symbol for sending us back to heaven before Dean or Sam ever did."

• "Like I said." You smiled to yourself, and Castiel got the feeling he was missing a part of the joke. "Lots of reading."

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

• Do not bring up that you used to have an angel phase back in college. Under no circumstances should you reveal that. He will never let you live it down

• Especially if he finds out you used to study artwork and literature about him specifically

• It's all over the moment he finds your old school books. They're stuffed full of old crinkled pages with his name thrown in there. Of course, this was way back when the idea of angels being real was laughable to you and you still had dreams of graduating college, but that doesn't change to fact that the notes are there, and that Gabriel found them

• "Wait wait wait listen to this—" An old binder is clutched in the hands of a very amused and very heavenly being as he paces around your spot at a table. His eyes are skimming the pages as a speed quicker than light, and Gabriel's shit eating smile grows as he continues to read

• "The archangel Gabriel isn't depicted as much as his brothers Micheal or Lucifer in classic literature, but when he is, it is often as a symbol of great power and beauty—"

• "I'm going to kill you." You cut him off and groan with hot cheeks. Your hands had come up to cover your face a while ago in an attempt to keep what little dignity you had, but something told you it wasn't working

• "Glad to know you think I'm beautiful, sweet cheeks." Was all Gabriel said. You could hear the teasing lit in his voice. Sure enough, when you looked up to glare at him, he was already looking at you and wiggling his brows suggestively. It took you a total to three seconds to throw the closest thing at his head

• "Hey hey! Watch the beautiful goods!" He laughed while dodging a pencil. It his his chest anyway and bounced to the ground with a dull thud

• "Gabriel." Your tone was downright murderous

• "Okay, okay! I'll stop!"

• He does, in fact, not stop. Someone restrain him for the love of Chuck, for he is getting way too much enjoyment out of poking fun at you

• You're gonna have to avoid him for the next few weeks after that if you want to keep your embarassment levels to a minimum. No other way around it

• Let's just hope he never realizes you had to spend time in art class analyzing renaissance paintings of him in the nude. Now that would be the conversation to end all conversations

• "Heyyy, you never told me you had an art folder—"

• Oh shit.

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 months

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Where to Run

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @deansobssessedgirl

Synopsis: you’re on the run from the British Men of Letters, and you meet your big brothers for the first time.

Entering the United States unnoticed had gone better than you thought it would. As soon as you got through passport control, you dug into your backpack—the only luggage you had brought with you, and it contained all you owned—and pulled out two pieces of paper. You considered them both for a long moment—one, an over a decade-old letter with the name of a small city in black ink in the middle of it, and the other a list of cities, one circled in red.

The list would take you to a nearby Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, and the letter…

The letter might just lead you to your father.

…

“And you’re sure we haven’t already been to this one?” Sam asked his big brother as they pulled up to a storage facility.

“Of course I’m sure. I would’ve remembered one so close to Lawrence,” Dean said.

“What do you think dad kept in here?” Sam questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him as Dean led the way to the right storage room.

“Who knows?” Dean shrugged. “Let’s just hope one of these works.” He jangled a small set of keys on a ring that John had left in the car—they contained a spare key for the Impala as well as John’s old truck, and several storage facility keys. Dean had thought that he and Sammy had been to all of John’s secret storage places, but after scanning John’s journal for the hundredth time, he caught sight of an address scratched in the corner of a page with a storage number.

“It’s this one,” Sam spoke up, grabbing the keys from Dean and trying a few before one finally worked.

The room was small, but packed full. Sam and Dean—after carefully scanning for traps—split up and began to go through their father’s things.

“Hey, I think this file cabinet’s locked,” Sam said from one corner. Dean lifted his head, but didn’t go to his brother’s aid, too busy going through a box of odds and ends.

“Or you just didn’t pull hard enough—maybe if you had any muscle in those noodles—“

“Ok, ok,” Sam interrupted with a scoff. He rolled his eyes, but didn’t dismiss Dean’s theory—he yanked hard on the file cabinet, and it jerked open in a cloud of dust. Coughing, Sam reached down to shuffle through what was inside. “Hey, there’s only one file in here.”

“Fascinating,” Dean said in a tone that said exactly the opposite.

“There’s a birth certificate inside,” Sam said, and suddenly his voice caught. “With…with dad’s name on it.”

“Dad’s birth certificate?” Dean asked, mildly intrigued.

“Dean…not dad’s.”

“What?” Dean was by Sam’s side before Sam had even seen him move.

“Y/N Winchester, born to John Winchester and…Jane Doe.” Sam frowned, his brow crinkling. “I wonder why dad would use his real name when the mother used a fake.”

“This can’t be real,” Dean insisted. “I mean…I know with Adam…but another one?”

“Let’s see,” Sam mumbled, putting the certificate inside and checking the rest of the file. “Pictures.” Sam held up a stack, which Dean immediately snatched from him. Sam ignored this, because he’d found his own details to focus on. “And letters.” Sam grabbed the first letter from a stack of dozens, and began to read. “Dear John…our girl turns one today…”

Dean tapped Sam’s shoulder and held up a photo of a little Y/H/C girl blowing out a singular candle on a pink cake.

Sam moved onto the next letter, skimming it.

“Dear John…I put Y/N in gymnastics because it’s the only way I can get her to work on strength training and endurance.” Sam’s brow crinkled in confusion, but he was distracted when Dean held up a photo of the same girl, a few years older, in a gymnastics leotard on a balance beam.

“What do you think she meant by training?” Sam asked. “Do you think she was a hunter?”

“Could be.” Dean shrugged. “Maybe that’s why she signed her letters Jane Doe.” Dean pointed to the bottom of the letter, where “love, Jane Doe” was written.

Sam was about to pull out another letter when his fingers froze on the paper.

“Dean…”

“Hm?” Dean asked distractedly, still going through photos.

“Dean look at this.” Sam flipped the paper around, and on the back of it was a watermark—an indicator of who made the stationary.

It was the Men of Letters insignia.

…

“Lebanon, please,” you said to the taxi driver. “I’ll direct you to a more specific location when we get there.”

The man shrugged, unbothered, and began the journey.

You desperately wanted to go to Lawrence in search for your father, but you had to be realistic—you hadn’t eaten all day, you were jet lagged and exhausted, and you needed a plan of action. You needed to recover and regroup, and you needed to do it in a secure location; you needed to feel safe. In fact, you were so wound up that you flinched when the radio came on.

“—o one seems to have any information on who is causing the recent string of murders. The chief of police has offered no comment, other than a warning that the people of Lawrence should stay indoors when possible, and be alert. But there’s no denying the oddity of the case—the mass murderer seems to have some kind of vampire ideologies, with each of its victims drained completely of their blood. In other news—“

“Hey, driver!” You called out, and he glanced over his shoulder to indicate he was listening. “I changed my mind. Take me to Lawrence.”

…

“It’s gotta be another djinn.”

Dean would’ve groaned if he didn’t have a mouthful of hamburger to swallow first.

“Not those again,” he said after a gulp of beer washed down the last of his burger. They’d finished going through John’s things—Sam taking the file of your pictures and documents with him—only to leave and stumble upon a case. Dean had wanted to stop at a diner on the way back home, but he hadn’t expected to walk past a news stand to see a paper with “vampire killer” written across the front. It took Sam less than ten minutes of reading the paper, as well as a little time on the internet, to render the paper completely wrong.

“It doesn’t fit with a vampire. No teeth marks, no signs of struggle, the bodies were found in a different location from where they were taken—it’s definitely a djinn.”

“Ok, so silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood.” Dean sighed. “We happen to have one of those?”

“I think we still have the one we used last time in the trunk,” Sam said.

“Then let’s get going.”

…

You picked up a machete after being dropped off by the cabbie, hoping beyond hope that the radio had been right (even if they were kidding) about it being a vampire—there were several monsters known to drink blood, and if it was anything other than a vamp then things might get tricky. Normally you would be more prepared, but it wasn’t like you could get your weapons through customs when traveling to America, and you’d had to travel light so you could move more quickly. The British Men of Letters worked quickly, so you couldn’t take any chances. And buying up strange kinds of weapons near an old Men of Letters bunker was definitely too high a chance to take, so all you could do was hope that it was a vamp.

You’d done so much research about Lawrence that you barely even have to wonder where the creature might be hiding out—while researching Lawrence, you’d almost automatically noted the places where a supernatural being might be inclined to hide, so all you had to do was see which one was closest to the bodies that were dropping.

Then you were ready to hunt.

…

“I’m telling you, this has to be it. It’s nearly equidistant to all the bodies, and it’s the perfect place for a djinn to hide out.”

“You don’t have to sell me on the location, I believe you,” Dean told Sam. “But you do have to tell me how to get there.”

“Turn right here…yeah, and a left at that stop sign, and then we’re there.”

“So are we just not gonna talk about it?” Dean asked after a beat of silence as he followed Sam’s directions.

“Talk about what?”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t know, maybe our little sister?”

“I don’t know what to say, Dean,” Sam sighed. “There’s no address anywhere in the documents or the letters, and we don’t even know her mother’s name, or if Y/N even goes by Winchester. Her mother used an alias, it makes sense that the kid would go by one, too. We have no reason to believe that she’s going by the name on her birth certificate, so we don’t have the first clue on how to find her.”

“Well it feels like we have to do something,” Dean argued. “I mean we don’t even know if this kid knows about dad—for all we know, she thinks he’s still alive. She deserves to know.”

“Why the sudden interest?” Sam questioned. “You didn’t seem all this interested when we found out about Adam.”

“That was different,” Dean sighed. “With Adam…Adam was just some normal, innocent kid who saw dad once a year for a baseball game and knew nothing about the life. This kid—Y/N—with the talk in those letters about training, and the Men of Letters insignia…she’s in this life, Sam, I can feel it. And since dad’s not around anymore…I think it’s our job to make sure she’s ok.”

“And I’d be happy to do that,” Sam insisted. “If only we knew how to find her. But for now, let’s do what we can do—take out this djinn.”

…

The sight of a car in the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse worried you—even if it was a beautiful car.

“Chevy Impala,” you mumbled to yourself. “67, I think.” You shook yourself, moving your mind back to the task at hand, rather than the conversation you were having with yourself. Hopefully the car here didn’t mean that its owners were anywhere near the warehouse—the last thing you needed was some innocent people getting in the way and getting hurt.

Seeing no one around, you hefted your machete and headed inside.

…

Dean gestured at Sam to be quiet as he peaked around a corner. Signaling that the coast was clear, Dean led the way through the warehouse, the silver dagger gripped in his steady hand. Dean was just signaling Sam to wait so he could check around another corner when—

“Hey!”

“Jeez—what?”

Dean stopped himself just short of cutting not a djinn, but a Y/H/C girl wielding a machete that was aimed at him.

“Hey, easy.” Dean took a quick step back, raising the knife and his hands in the air. “We’re not—“ Dean’s words died in his throat when he got a good look at your face.

“Dean,” Sam breather from beside him. “It’s—“

“No kidding.”

“What are you talking about?” You demanded, lowering the machete just a little bit. “Who are you guys, what are you doing here?” You didn’t want for an answer. “You have to get out of here, there’s a—“ your eyes fell to the silver dagger.

Sam’s gaze followed your own to the weapon in Dean’s hand before he looked back at you.

“It’s not a vamp,” he said, gesturing at your machete. “It’s a djinn.”

You lowered your machete completely.

“You’re hunters?”

Dean couldn’t keep the astonished smile off his face.

“And you’re Y/N Winchester.”

The machete was back up in an instant.

“Who are you?” You demanded for the second time. “Men of Letters?”

“Easy, easy,” Dean said, taking a step back as you advanced on them. “I’m not—“

“Guys!”

Sam’s warning proceeded the arrival of the djinn by a split second—just enough time for Dean to dodge the blow that the djinn tried to land on him.

“Hey!” Your call turned the attention of the djinn, who grabbed hold of your arm before you had the chance to move away. He twisted your arm behind your back until your machete was crashing to the ground and you were crying out in pain.

“Here!” Dean’s call came a second before the silver dagger was hurtling at your face. You snatched it up with your free hand and twisted it so it was facing the djinn a moment before you plunged the dagger into the djinn’s side. He howled with pain and released your arm, giving you an opportunity to spin around and stab again, this time in the neck.

The djinn went down without a sound, and the thud of his fall echoed through the empty room. For a long moment, only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard. That is, until Dean took a step towards you.

“Back off!” You yelled, raising the blood-soaked dagger.

“Are you serious?” Dean scoffed. “Hey, I just helped save your life.”

“I’m not going back!” You were starting to look panicked as you backed away from the brothers. “So-so just tell Lady Bevell, or Ketch, or Mick, or whoever recruited you that I’m done! I’m not a part of the Men of Letters, and I never will be!”

“Hey, hey, easy,” Sam soothed. “We’re not Men of Letters.”

“Then how do you know who I am?” You challenged.

“Because of John Winchester.”

Sam’s response froze you in your tracks.

“J…John Winchester?” The dagger was slowly lowering. “You know him? You know where he is?”

The hope in your eyes was like a punch in the gut to both brothers. However, it was gone in an instant and replaced with a harsh suspicion as you raised the knife higher again.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“That’s how we know who you are, kid,” Dean insisted.

“Here—“ Sam’s hand was halfway to his pocket when you pointed your knife at him and he froze. “Easy, ok? I’ll go slow.” He slowly reached in, and you relaxed slightly when he pulled out a small bundle of papers. “We’ve got letters that your mom sent to him, with some pictures.” Sam held them out, and you hesitantly took them, thumbing through the stack while occasionally glancing warily at the boys.

“They stop,” you mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“The letters, they stopped…at least ten years ago.” You looked back up at the boys as you spoke. “Is…is there more, or…”

The despair on the boys’ faces spoke for itself. Your lip was already quivering as you tucked the letters away, still holding onto the knife but keeping it pointed down.

“Is he…is he dead?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “About ten years ago.”

Sam could tell you were trying not to cry, trying to act like they hadn’t just ripped the rug out from under you.

“You know, I—I didn’t even know him—“ your voice cracked. “But I…gosh, I re-I really wanted to.”

You let Dean take the knife from you after he put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Um, so.” You wiped your hand over your face, trying to brush away any stray tears as you tried valiantly to pull yourself together. “So how did you two…”

“He’s…he’s our dad, too.” Sam said. Your eyes widened slightly as you absorbed this information.

“Wait, you…were you…from his wife?”

“You knew about her?” Dean asked.

“Not really,” you admitted. “John…dad, he…he never liked to talk about his past, but he did mention his wife in one of his letters…he said her death was what made him become a hunter.” Your lips quirked up as you remembered. “He said if I ever saw a yellow-eyed demon, send it to hell for him.” Your eyes went back to Dean and Sam. “Is…is that how he died? Hunting demons?”

“Kind of,” Sam said. “It’s…it’s a long story.”

“What about you?” Dean said suddenly. “If you know Lady Bevell and the rest, and you know they’re here recruiting, then you’ve got something to do with the Men of Letters. Not to mention their insignia on the back of those letters.”

Just the mention of the Men of Letters had you on edge again.

“Maybe we should talk about this at a more secure location,” you suggested. “There’s an old Men of Letters bunker not far from—“ you cut yourself off when you caught the look between the two brothers. “What?”

“We know,” Sam said. “We’ve been living in it.”

Dean noticed your fingers twitch, as if you were thinking about reaching for a weapon.

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re not Men of Letters?”

“Our grandfather was one,” Dean said. “He left us a key.”

You seemed to consider this. Dean watched as your eyes got a faraway look, and he knew you were trying to remember something.

“Mom said that John was from a line of the Men of Letters. It was one of the ways she tried to get him to join.” You shook yourself of the memories. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

Dean couldn’t help the way a smile twitched just slightly on his lips before he dropped it.

“Fair enough.”

…

You were quiet the whole way to the bunker, and although your brothers had questions they sensed you were tired and on edge, so they refrained. Dean kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror the whole way, and he was happy to see the way you slowly put your guard down—mostly out of exhaustion—as you relaxed into a light slumber.

You awoke with a start when Dean pulled into the bunker’s garage, the echo of Baby’s engine reverberating loudly.

“Home sweet home,” Dean crowed as you stepped out of the Impala. You didn’t say a word as he led you inside, but the moment the three of you settled down around the kitchen table, you finally started to talk.

“John met my mother on a hunt. She was just visiting America, vacation or something, but she happened to stumble on a case. They met…and well, I came along.” Both brothers noticed you skipping over the details, for which they were grateful. “But while mom was still pregnant she tried to convince dad to join the Men of Letters.” Sam noticed the way you kept switching between dad and John, as if you either weren’t sure what to say, or you weren’t sure what the boys were comfortable with. “He didn’t like the idea, and he didn’t want that for me, either. They fought about it, and mom left the country to go back to England. She was still pregnant…” Dean saw your fists clench and unclench as you blinked rapidly. “Dad, he…he never saw me in person. Any-anyway, she still wrote to him, and she let me read his letters. She said he deserved that much, at least. Dad was always telling me hunter things—I think he was hoping I’d end up a hunter, like him.”

“Why did you?” Sam spoke up. “I mean, if your mother raised you with the Men of Letters…”

“She kept a lot from me,” you said. “The…morally ambiguous parts.” At Dean’s strange look, you scoffed. “Ok, let’s be real, the straight up evil parts.” This got a grin from both brothers. “But she, uh…” the lightheartedness in the room was gone in an instant. “She died last year, and well…people stopped lying to me. I realized all the crap they really did, and I ran.”

“And what, they’re after you?” Dean questioned. “I mean it’s not like the mafia, right, I mean you can just leave.”

You nearly laughed out loud.

“I wish they were as sloppy as the mafia. No, you can’t just leave, especially not me—just because I’m a kid, doesn’t mean I couldn’t have over a decade of Men of Letters’ secrets stored in my brain. That’s why I came here, I…I wanted to find dad. To find family, protection.” You took a deep breath. “I want to be a hunter, not a Man of Letters.”

Dean found himself speaking before he even thought about what to say.

“Why do you have to be either?”

“What?” You said at the same time as Sam. Dean glanced between you before continuing.

“You’re just a kid—you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You don’t have to be either, you could be whatever you want.”

You blinked up at Dean, as though the thought had never occurred to you.

“I…I don’t…”

“Look,” Dean began. “Don’t decide just now. John may not be here, but we’re family too, kid. There’s an empty bedroom down the hall, you should get some sleep, get settled in…then maybe we could talk about this hunting stuff, ok? The important thing is, you’re safe here. Let’s just say we don’t like the British Men of Letters anymore than you do. They’re not getting in here, and they’re not getting to you. Everything else can wait for later.”

You felt a smile—a true smile—etching its way into your face for the first time in so long. You looked up at this man—your big brother—and you couldn’t help but feel that everything was going to be ok. Whether you decided to hunt or not, or whether the Men of Letters came after you, you knew one thing for sure—

You really had found your family.

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@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe

#the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester #supernatural dean #sam winchester #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x little sister #sam winchester x little sister #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader

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little-diable · 1 year

Text

Lies, nothing but lies - Dean Winchester (smut)

This is pure filth really, but at least there's a little bit of plot as well (not much tho lol). Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader have been friends since childhood, the reason why neither of them ever addressed their crush on the other. When a hunt gone wrong forces her confession out of the reader, Dean finds himself drawing back. But there was no escaping, all thanks to some strange, powdery substance.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected piv, sex pollen, choking, sloppy oral (m), slight breeding kink, friends to lovers, a small rejection though happy end, typical SPN setting

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.7k words)

A gasp rippled through (y/n) as she opened her eyes, slowly adjusting to the darkness that surrounded her, wondering where she was. She tried to move around, though without any luck, bound to the chair as if she was a sacrifice that would find its end in Death’s cold arms any moment now.

“Fuck, Dean? Sammy?” She whispered the names of her hunting partners, hoping that they were close. But she was met with nothing but silence, a silence so thick, (y/n) feared she may never speak another word again. Her eyes fluttered close as she tried to remember what had happened, it took her a few seconds till the memories found their way back to her like the tide rolling back in.

She had stayed behind in the motel, needing to catch up on some sleep as the brothers went out to speak to a few neighhours, hoping that somebody had seen or heard something. It had taken them hours to figure out new details, convinced that this was the sloppy work of a werewolf, but yet (y/n) had been stupid, leaving the motel after a few minutes of trying to fall asleep though miserably failing. She should have waited for them, should have trusted the funny feeling in her gut, but it had been too late the second darkness had swallowed her whole, trapping her.

Once again (y/n) tried to shuffle around, trying to reach the pocketknife she always carried around with her. Heavy breaths left her, eyes squeezed shut to try and collect all her strength, freezing as she heard the sound of heavy steps echoing through the air. Fuck, she’d have to be quick, she’d have to collect all her strength, trying to fight her way out of this mess.

Her heart longed for Dean, knowing that he’d fight side by side with her, sticking to the woman that had been around for years. They were one, one team, one heart, one soul, though without ever addressing the palpable tension between them.

“(Y/n)? Sweetheart?” The sound of an all too familiar voice ripped her out of the wave of sadness threatening to pull her under. “Fuck, of course she’s not here. I’ll kill that motherfucker with my own two hands.”

“Dean! I’m here! Sammy!” Her vocal chords ached from the strength she used to call out to the two brothers, hoping that they’d hear her. (Y/n) kept calling, listening to the sound of their steps, seemingly moving closer with every passing second.

“(Y/n)?” Sam’s voice rang in her ears, forcing a relieved gasp out of her. A cry left her, luring the two closer till they finally reached her. Dean cupped her cheek as he crouched in front of her, holding her close, letting Sam cut her free. She tumbled into Dean’s arms, inhaling the comforting scent she’d always felt recognise no matter how long they’d be apart. “Shh, we’ve got you, my brave girl, you’re okay.”

……

“Don’t look away, I’m not done yet.” Dean’s soft words filled the small motel bathroom, hands cupping her cheeks as he cleaned her scratches. She had her legs wrapped around his middle, keeping him close, not yet ready to part from him.

Her heart raced at the mere thought of ever missing a moment like this with Dean. Her life had no meaning without Dean in it, needing him to guide her, the one her heart needed to survive.

“Dean?” A hum left him, allowing her to keep on talking. Dean was oblivious to the racing of her heart, not picking up on the sounds the strong muscle created as it skipped beats. Her nervousness flushed through her veins, body forcing her to keep on moving, searching his closeness like she should have done years ago already. “Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her gaze flickered between his eyes and his plush lips, momentarily distracted by the freckles she kept counting like sand collected in a glass, trying to keep memories bottled in to never forget them. His breaths got quicker, accelerating with every passing moments.

“I can’t, sweetheart.” His words made her breath hitch in her chest, staring at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before she slowly nodded her head, murmuring a soft “Of course.” (Y/n) gave Dean a small push, needing to get some distance between him and herself before he could notice the tears welling up in her eyes.

His hand found her wrist, stopping (y/n) from stumbling out of the bathroom. The sight of Dean was slightly blurred by her tears, making her feel even more pathetic as his sad smile grew clearer. Dean studied her for a few seconds, slowly letting go of her. “I wish I could, but I can’t risk our friendship, not when it’s the only good thing I can have all too myself.”

“It’s alright, Dean. I uhm, I’ll try to get some sleep in.” He watched her leave the bathroom with trembling fingers, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn’t pick up on the tears welling up in his forest green eyes, didn’t hear the silent curses leaving him nor the sound of his hands angrily meeting the cold surface of the counter she had been sitting on.

(Y/n) didn’t pick up on anything, but the quiet sobs clawing through her, making her heart clench in her chest.

……

“Careful!” Dean’s arms found it’s way around her waist before (y/n) could stumble over the step, eyes meeting his to communicate a quiet “Thank you”. The tension between the two had something uncomfortable to it, not yet over the conversation they’ve shared in the small bathroom days ago. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he should have given in, ending up in a situation by far more pleasing than whatever this was, while (y/n) still cursed her exhausted self for acting like she had never done before and probably never will again.

“I’ll check out the rooms upstairs.” She had moved up the stairs before Dean could say another thing, moving through the unfamiliar house. Another case was keeping them on their toes, wondering who they were dealing with, but the things they now stumbled upon in their very house screamed “witch”, making them more uncomfortable than they’d ever admit.

(Y/n) combed through the empty rooms, opening boxes, shelves, whatever she could find. Before she could leave the upstairs area, moving back down to the man she tried to avoid like the plague, her eyes caught on a golden, small box. She moved closer, not hearing the sound of Dean’s heavy boots meeting the wooden steps, luring him closer.

“What’s that?” His voice made her jump, box crashing to the ground before she could catch it. A powdery substance now littered the ground, forcing curses out of (y/n) as she crouched down to push the substance back into the box. Dean wordlessly started helping her, eyes not daring to meet her angry ones. “I didn’t find anything, maybe we should try and see if we can find something online about the weird drawings we saw.”

“Alright, let’s go.” (Y/n) followed Dean outside, ignoring the heat simmering inside of her, threatening to take over her system. No words were spoken between the two as Dean started driving back, wiping away the drops of sweat pooling on his forehead, making him wonder why he was suddenly feeling all this hot.

“Dean?” His name left her, a sound torn between a cry and a moan, leaving his eyes to snap towards her. She was struggling just as much as he was, forcing him to tighten his grip on the steering wheel. “Fuck, I’m so hot. Open the windows, please.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, sweetheart.” Both pondered over his words a few seconds, clinging to the quietness filling the Impala. “It was that fucking powder, shit, Sammy told me about this a while ago.”

“What is it? Will it kill us?” Her voice trembled, hands snapping into action to undo the first buttons of the jacket she was wearing, close to ripping her shirt open. Dean’s hand found her thigh, fingers dipping into her skin, forcing her to stop moving.

“They’re called sex pollen, you have to fuck them out of your system, otherwise they’ll kill you.” A groan left Dean, mind creating vivid pictures of (y/n)'s naked frame pressed against his, how she’d mewl his name, begging him to fuck her harder. Dean had imagined this for countless times, fucking his hand to the thought of her naked frame, imagines he clung to, very well knowing that he’d never touch her, not daring to ruin his oldest and closest friendship. Lies, nothing but lies.

“What? You’re joking! That can’t be true, what should we do?” A whimper left (y/n) as Dean’s hand started moving up her thigh, slowly, since his mind was trying to fight his body’s urges. Baby came to a halt in front of the motel, forcing the two into the room they shared. Dean couldn’t help but thank whoever was listening that Sam hadn’t joined them on this hunt, staying in the bunker for the time being.

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I’ve got something to take care of.” She looked at him with big eyes for a few seconds, well aware of the way his hardening cock pressed against the tight fabric of his trousers, forming an uncomfortable bulge. No words left her as (y/n) leaped at him, lips finding his as her mind was silenced by the pollen taking over the last bits of her system, guiding her every movement.

Dean welcomed the kiss with a moan clawing through him, hands finding their way to her jeans, undoing the button with quick movements, set on undressing her. Both parted from one another to rip their clothes off their bodies, only left in their underwear, a sight that left them both breathless, fingers aching to feel one another.

“I need your cock, anything, please Dean, it burns so much.” Her body was aching for his touch, wanting to feel him buried inside of her, desires fuelled by the pollen that worked like a drug on her system. Dean pushed her down on the bed, ripping her panties down her legs as she worked on her bra, a sight Dean didn’t allow himself to get lost in, needing to work quickly. His cock was twitching, leaking precum, laced with a desire so strong, he feared he’d pass out any moment now.

With his hand wrapped around his cock, Dean pushed the tip through her slit, coating himself with her arousal before he pushed into her. Both moaned in unison, eyes rolling back to give room to the darkness swapping through their systems. Dean fucked her without any mercy holding him back, hand finding its way to her throat, pinning her down as his other hand clung to the bedframe.

It felt as if both had been needing to feel this for months, perhaps even years, a longing that had been nothing more than a daydream they’d try to escape from, at least till this very moment. Their bodies fit together perfectly, moving in sync as they tried to stop the heat that kept on flushing through them.

Both were too far gone to speak, unable to produce anything but moans and groans, sinful words that rippled through them. Her orgasm moved closer quickly, flushing through her before she could stop her body from giving in, but Dean didn’t stop moving, not nearly as done as she was.

Her body kept calling out to his, the heat still thumped through her veins, almost as strong as it had been before her first orgasm of the night. Their eyes met, hers hazy and confused, Dean’s twinkling with joy, excitement, and the pride he wasn’t able to swallow down. Even though he couldn’t guide his body, having to trust his instincts, he couldn’t deny that he loved seeing her like this, moaning for him, fucked out within a few moments.

“I need to fill you up, want to fuck you full with my cum.” His words forced another moan out of her, body not satisfied just yet. Their hearts kept jumping, her arm found its way around his neck, pulling Dean in for another kiss. They were a mess of tangled limbs, tongues, and digits, a mess so perfect, they never wanted to free themselves from it.

Dean kept staring down on her as his hand disappeared between their bodies, rubbing her already overstimulated pulsing bundle of nerves with a smirk tugging on his lips. Her moans were everything but quiet, loud enough to ring in his ears like a cry of help in the quiet night would.

“Cum inside of me Dean, please, I want it, want it so badly.” Her words were slurred, giving Dean the last push he needed to tumble over the edge, cum painting her walls white as a heavy groan left him. Slow thrusts kept pushing his cock into her heat, cock still hard and twitching, needing to chase another high before they’d feel somewhat satisfied.

Without another warning Dean pulled out of her, flipping them around so that (y/n) had her face buried in the pillows, heavily groaning as he pushed back into her from behind. Their moans grew louder once again, dripping with pleasure and lust, an insatiable hunger they couldn’t still, all thanks to the pollen drugging their system.

“I should have fucked you sooner, fuck, I won’t ever let you go again, sweetheart, you belong to me, just like your body does.” Dean spoke his words with his jaw clenched and his teeth pressed together, still rushing along the waves of pleasure that made them tremble. (Y/n) could only groan, sobbing his name with squeezed together eyes, fingers digging into the fabric of the pillow.

Her walls kept fluttering around his cock, ready to give in again, shaking fingers finding their way to her aching clit. Within seconds she was pushed over the edge again, finally letting go of the heat that had forced her to keep on going, allowing her body to somewhat relax.

Dean stared down on her for a few seconds, hips still snapping against her behind before he pulled out of her, groaning a throaty “I need your mouth, sweetheart”. With tired though excited eyes staring up at Dean, (y/n) shuffled around, allowing him to abuse her mouth, forcing his cock deep down her throat.

She gagged for him, instantly making a mess with saliva dripping from her lips and chin. (Y/n) clung to him, corners of her mouth burning within moments, and yet she couldn’t help but moan for more, eyes rolling back into her head with every rough thrust. Her moans vibrated on his skin, forcing Dean to keep on going, adding to the speed of his thrusts to push himself over the edge again.

He came with a heavy groan, curses rolling off his tongue as he filled her cheeks. His hand found her hair, tilting her head back, watching tears run down her cheeks.

“Fuck, are you okay, sweetheart?” A tired hum left (y/n), finding comfort against his chest, pulled closer with his hands holding onto her waist. His hand ran up and down her spine, forcing goosebumps to rise on her skin, not wanting to break out of this state just yet. “Listen, sweetheart, about what I’ve said-"

“It’s okay, Dean, you don’t have to explain yourself.” She slowly pulled back, at least she tried to, though without any luck. Dean kept holding her close, lips finding hers before she could speak another word.

“I was stupid, just scared to ruin our friendship. But I can’t let you again, if you still want me.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #Dean Winchester x reader

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oceansblvds · 10 months

Note

You and Coryo being Academic rivals, one day you're arguing in class too much and highbottom kicks you out and tells you to figure it out and come back once the two of you finally get along - however you keep arguing until the tension is too much and you end up making out in halls of the academy. 👀 also imagine highbottom catching you and being so over it like "that's not what i meant when i told you to get along"

perhaps.... had too much fun with this LOL

warning(s): nothing rly. kissing?

you and coriolanus had never been close, you were both convinced that the only thing you had in common was where you two both stood academically. you two were both at the top of the class together, the dean even said it himself, there was no way of distinguishing who was higher than the other because of how close you two were grade wise. both of you always got essays and tests back with one hundred percents, both of you were always the last two people in the library when it was almost midnight (always on opposite sides of the room), and the both of you absolutely hated it. you both hated that you couldn't best each other. the arguing never stopped, the bickering getting on everyones nerves. some people thought that you two would be good friends if you just talked to one another, but no way, not when he was your worst enemy. or so it seemed.

it had gotten so bad that the two of you were even arguing in front of teachers. the most recent time, when everything changed, you two were arguing over something to do with calculus. you were solving complex, two variable integrals and he was committed to telling you how wrong you were about the way that you had solved it on the whiteboard. although the teacher had given the class time to solve problems with your table while she talked with the dean, who had stepped in to have a private word, their talk was interrupted when the dean told you that you two needed to take a breather, and learn how to talk to each other without ripping each other to shreds.

you were fuming, walking out of the classroom before him and stepping into the hallways. you could hear his footsteps behind you, and when you were far enough away, in a hallway that didn't have any classrooms and was instead lined with shelves of past academic pictures, you turned around. "what do you want," you asked him, standing in the middle of the hallway. coriolanus looked almost amused by how pissed off you were. "you know, you ruin everything," you said. "i've never been kicked out of a classroom before until you." your words were venom.

then he began talking. about how you drove him crazy with how smart you were, and how much you liked to rub it in his face. "i just wish that for once you could shut your fucking mouth," coriolanus said to you. he had gotten closer, his breath fanning your face as he towered over you. this close to him and you could smell the faintness of roses, you could see the smile lines on his face, the tiniest bits of freckles dotting his skin. you hated him. you hated how beautiful he was. and so, giving the faintest of a smirk, you stated, "make me."

and although what happened next was a wrong move, on both of your parts who were so keen on keeping appearances and your reputation in toe. put coriolanus grabbed your shoulder and waist, slamming you into the wall of the hallway. you didn't pull away, instead pushing your lips towards his almost as fast as he did the same thing. he muttered something about how he knew how to shut you up against your lips, barely giving you enough time to breath between heated kisses. it was rough, bruising even, like he was trying to consume your soul. his lips were so soft, pissing you off enough at their perfectness that you nipped at them, sucking the bottom one into your teeth and biting. he hissed at the feeling, pulling away for just a moment, panting, and putting his finger to his lip that had a little blood splattered on it. instead of saying something, he kissed you even harsher, tongue pressing into your mouth and slotting between your tongue and the roof of your mouth.

coriolanus' hands were in your hair, pulling it harshly down to gain better access to your lips, his other hand pressing into your hip to keep you against the wall. your hands were on his back and around his neck, fingernails scratching against his pristine skin that gave him goosebumps.

the two of you stayed like that, kissing and basically morphing into one complete enigma for who knows how long. long enough that both of you heard someone clear their throat. it was dean highbottom, looking at the two of you like you were crazy. your cheeks burned, thinking that this was it, you were going to be kicked out of school and you would never have a life ever again. instead, he just looked at the two of you for another moment as coriolanus pulled away, leaving you against the wall. "when i told you to get along . . ." dean highbottom said, turning on his heel to walk away, "that's not what i meant."

you two got detention for a week.

at least afterwards the two of you could continue to get along.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #the hunger games #tom blyth #angelica talks!!

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alluvthegurlz · 27 days

Text

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

❝︎ i know who my first call will be too ❞︎

pairing | teen!dean winchester x fem!reader

content | fluff, angst, mentions of a fight, mentions of john being a dick (you can’t make me like him)

summary | dean calls you after he gets into a fight at a frat party down the road

THE PARK was so quiet you could almost imagine it was abandoned like the old house on the corner. The one all the kids stayed away from, only stepping foot on the porch against a dare their dumbass friends had made. A flickering light, similar to a shining star lighting the path of the short sidewalk to the tiny playground; the park was empty. Only the faint outline of someone sitting atop the play area could be seen.

“Hey,” you called out to him quietly. His shoulders tensed, his head turning quickly before his body had relaxed again when he noticed it was just you. His shoulders weren’t so broad anymore, his head dropping down before you heard the quiet exhale leave his nose. “Sorry,” an apology spilled softly from your lips. Apologetic for scaring him, but relieved that he was at least relatively okay.

The phone you had gotten not even an hour before had you on the verge of a panic attack until you had actually seen him.

“You alright?”

“Can you meet me somewhere?” He had asked so brokenly that you were scared that if you didn’t agree, he was going to crack in half like an old porcelain vase sitting atop the tallest shelf in your grandma’s china cabinet. “I ne…just — please?”

He hadn’t left you with much of an option. It hadn’t sounded as if he was about to jump off the deep end if you hadn’t shown.

“It’s alright,” he muttered, scared that if he talked any louder his voice would fail him. He was already on edge for having to call you this late, guilty that you had actually shown, but mostly, he wanted to avoid the emotions that were climbing up the back of his throat. If it had clawed at his throat any longer, they would crash and he’d be in the middle of a breakdown.

“You alright?” Your head was tilted to the side curiously, shoes digging into the wood chips beneath you. He was sat atop the jungle gym, his feet dangling into the night as his head rested against the cool metal rail guard beside him. Cooling any angry emotions he might’ve been feeling.

He finally lifted his head up, that’s when you could finally see the small stream of crimson trailing down his face.

“What happened?” You pointed to your own eyebrow, watching as he gingerly touched his own before staring at his blood coated fingers as if he had no clue it was even there.

“It’s, uh…” he was going to deny it being a big deal, just like he always did when something happened. “Fight.” He gave in.

It had shocked you if you were honest, that he had actually said it. Usually he had blamed it on slipping in the shower, but he could only use that excuse so many times before it got suspicious, and after the second time…you were more than suspicious.

“What happened? Frat party down the road?” You questioned, starting your climb up the jungle gym to sit behind him when he failed to answer. “Heard the cops got called, shut it down.” You settled in beside him finally, staring at the sky above you as the clouds threatened to cover the small stars.

“You weren’t even there,” he let slip past a quiet mumble.

“Might’ve been,” you shrugged innocently. “But now that I know you were looking for me —“

“Shut up,” he stopped you before you could get ahead.

He tried to hide it, but you could see the way the corner of his lips turned, the dull moonlight accentuating the way his cheeks fought off a smile. Your own laughter tumbled past your lips as you let your feet kick out in front of you.

This was a weekly occurrence it seemed. An empty park, the two of you sitting on a different part, the silence. You could’ve just talked about anything and everything and he would just sit there and listen. Whether it was willingly or not, he certainly never left. There were nights where he would talk until the sun came up. Some new story about his little brother, mostly his little brother annoying him, but sometimes there was a good story. You liked those ones. The ones where Dean had gone on and on about how his brother was just being a kid.

It was funny to think about it now, because now even a few years ago, that was the two of you. Just being kids. He was complaining about stuff the two of you had always done when you were Sammy’s age. Be annoying, play in the first, it was silly stuff that a kid is supposed to do and for a teenager to find annoying.

“You going home after this?” You didn’t want to ask the question, but you needed to make sure he still had a place to go. Finally, you dragged your eyes away from the constellation you had managed to make out to look over at Dean. His tired face looked even more relaxed than it had when you first showed up.

“Have too,” he answered quietly. “Can’t leave Sam there.”

“And what’s your dad gonna say?” You questioned, referring to his eye as he just shrugged his shoulders this time.

“Whatever the hell he wants,” he took a deep breath, trying to not think about what new string of swears his father could possibly throw at him.

There was always a place for Dean at your house, it was just taking so much to convince him that it was actually true. It was a mental block he had, you could always tell. The pressure that his dad put on him was ridiculous. You genuinely had no idea how he even functioned on a day to day basis. He had his moments where that wall crumbled, he let you see past the cracks just for a night before they were built back up again.

“You ever need anything, just call, Dean. You know that,” you broke the silence again.

“You’re always my first call,”’ he whispered.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #supernatural #spn #reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural one shot #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagine #the tortured poets department #fresh out the slammer

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kayleighwinchester · 2 months

Text

Five Things You Know About Dean Winchester - and One You Don't: II

(( Here we go, all! The second installment of Five Things You Know About Dean Winchester - and One You Don't! Sickeningly fluffy, for this one! As with most of these so far, much love to @artyandink for suggesting and running the Jensen-a-thon, and thank you so much for all of the love on part 1!)) Dean Winchester was a mystery.

It was one you were slowly unraveling bit by bit, visit by visit; he would climb in your window every month or so, stay a few days, and disappear again by the end of the week – but slowly, you were learning about him, about who he was, beyond the charismatic smile and easy, confident attitude.

You learned quickly how much touch meant to Dean.

It was like he couldn’t get enough of even the simplest contact. You saw it in even the simplest things – how he seemed to melt into every hug, how he leaned into each kiss, treating all contact like he was a man starved.

He’d arrived far earlier than usual this time, coming through your window in the early morning; you didn’t want to know what, exactly, your neighbors had to be thinking when he scaled the tree beside the house to your bedroom window in broad daylight.

You had only woken up about a half an hour before, and had yet to move out of your bed - you were still stretched out like a starfish under the covers, groggy and content, eyes half-following some trashy reality TV show that you, truly, couldn’t care less about. He’d given you that brilliant, million dollar smile of his as he toed his way out of his boots, folded his jacket and placed it in its usual spot on your dresser, and plopped down on the edge of your bed, as if he belonged there.

“Mornin’, Sweetheart.”

You didn’t reply – not at first. No, the first thing you had the energy to do was roll over, arms snaking slowly around his middle, your words muffled by his tee-shirt as you offered a mumbled, “Too early.” into his side. You could feel him shake slightly with silent laughter, his hand running down your back briefly.

“What can I say? Wanted to see my favorite girl. Didn’t even get a motel this time.”

You let out a small noise of acknowledgement, arms tightening around him. It wasn’t a particularly comfortable position to lay in, even you had to admit that, and, a bit reluctantly, you released your grip, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over your face. “Where were you this time?” You asked. Sitting up fully didn’t last long – only long enough for you to stretch, before you were slouching forward again, your forehead pressing against his shoulder.

His voice still held that barely-contained laughter as he spoke once more. “Chicago. ‘Least it wasn’t a bad drive.”

You hummed out another soft little sound, letting your eyes drop closed for a moment longer, before you spoke up. “Did you get breakfast on the way?” The last time you’d looked at your alarm clock, it had been just barely seven – it was a good enough excuse, you supposed, to try to stick to the healthy habits you’d been struggling to keep; breakfast was the most important meal of the day, or something like that.

“Nah. Bit burnt out on McDonald’s, ‘n I didn’t wanna stop for real.” He turned slightly, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

“I can make something.” You offered, finally forcing yourself to sit up once more, quickly turning your face upwards to steal a brief, light kiss. You never got tired of it, the way his eyes sparkled, the way his lips curled up into a smile every time.

“You sure?” He asked, watching you fumble your way out of bed, his eyes lingering on the tiny pajama shorts you wore, before they darted back up to yours. “You don’t have to get up, y’know – I can wait,”

You shook your head. “I’m trying to actually start eating breakfast,” You informed him, “so I was gonna have to get up sooner or later.” You weren’t sure that helped your case much – he still looked a bit guilty, but pushed himself up off of the bed anyway.

He followed you like a shadow, only breaking away once you entered the kitchen; you made a bee-line for the fridge, and he stopped in front of the crappy little coffee maker you’d picked up at a resale shop. It wasn’t the first morning you’d spent together, and there was at least a loose routine to it, though you were typically practically falling asleep at the table as he got the coffee going.

For a time, you worked in companionable silence – once the coffee was started, he leaned his weight against the counter, just following you with his eyes. You’d just started on the pancakes, a pan of bacon on the other burner, eggs on the third, when he moved forward, his arms winding around your waist, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Thank you.” He barely more than mumbled it, his voice giving you the distinct impression that he was far more tired than he’d let on. You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued. “‘N not just for the food.”

He was taller than you – you couldn’t imagine the way he was standing was particularly comfortable for his neck or back – but he nonetheless nuzzled his face into the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt him so relaxed – there was no tension in the way he was standing, his hold around you loose and lazy, his breathing even and his heartbeat steady and calm against your back.

“You better not fall asleep on me,” You warned halfheartedly, though you instinctively leaned your head against his, even if your newfound positions made flipping the pancakes and keeping the bacon from burning a bit more difficult than was strictly necessary.

“Not going to.” He said simply, pressing a lazy kiss beneath your ear, before he straightened up slightly, though his arms didn’t leave your waist, as if he couldn’t bring himself to lose that contact, his thumbs moving in lazy circles on your sides over your sleep shirt.

He finally reluctantly pried himself away when the coffee maker let out a chime – one that was beginning to sound a little old, a little like you’d be needing to invest in a new one soon. As you plated the pancakes, bacon, and eggs, moving them over to the table, he busied himself with the coffee – yours with a generous amount of sugar and flavored creamer, and his black – before he settled into his usual seat beside you at the table, his leg just barely brushing yours.

You’d barely gotten the first pancake onto your plate before he spoke up, the bottle of creamer held in his hand like he fully expected it to bite him. “‘S this any good?” He asked, studying the label intently.

“I mean, I like it.” You offered, continuing to plate up your own breakfast.

A beat, and then, as if he fully expected something – laughter, maybe – he asked, “Mind if I try it?” You glanced up again, startled to find that he genuinely did look a bit like he expected you to say no, or maybe tease him for it.

“Go ahead,” You encouraged.

He studied you for a moment longer, before adding a splash of creamer to his coffee, taking a drink. His expression lightened a bit, but there was a certain forced gruffness to his voice as he offered, “‘S alright, I guess.” You pretended not to notice as he added a bit more. You couldn’t, however, not notice the way his free hand settled on your leg, just above your knee, as he ate, his fingers occasionally gently squeezing – and it was only a few moments before he offered, “Really, Y/N, thanks.” He paused for a moment, before he added, “This’s… Nice.” His expression screamed that there were probably a million other words he could have used, but even that one spoke volumes.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, generally, with neither of you being particularly fond of mornings, and this time was no different; the longer he sat there, the more you could see the exhaustion creeping onto his face, the way his eyes began to gloss over just a little, the way his shoulders slumped. If he really had driven all the way from Chicago, presumably through the night, one cup of coffee wasn’t going to be a miracle cure.

He tailed you like a lost puppy as you cleared the table, and as you gave the dishes a quick rinse off, intending to leave them for later, his arms snaked around your waist once more, his chin resting against the crown of your head. You didn’t have to look up to know his eyes were probably rapidly closing. Still, you’d known him long enough to know his stubborn nature, so you gently offered, “It’s still a little early for me,” A glance at the clock on the stove read just past eight, which certainly was a few hours earlier than you typically tended to get up. “I could use a couple more hours of sleep.”

You could practically feel him sag against you in relief. “I could pro’lly snag a couple hours.” He said – his tone, which attempted to imply that it was a ‘maybe’ and not a ‘definitely’, certainly screamed that he could do with more than just a couple.

This time, his hands never left you fully as he followed you back up the stairs – first his hand resting on your back, then, as you made your way back into your room, his fingers found yours, the contact only breaking for a moment as he fumbled his way out of his jeans, finding a pair of sweats he’d left behind the last time, tucked carefully into the top drawer of your dresser alongside other bits and pieces of clothing he’d forgotten – or maybe left on purpose.

You lifted the covers as he padded back over to the bed, flopping down beside you with a quiet groan that he couldn’t quite muffle – he always treated your bed like it was the most comfortable thing he’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. He rolled over, his arms snaking around you and pulling you close, his lips pressing to your forehead. His breathing had already evened out, soft and slow against your skin.

It was practically instinct, the way your hand moved up to comb through his hair, and you could feel his lips twitch into the faintest sleepy smile, and the words he mumbled against your forehead practically made your heart stop. "Love you, Sweetheart."

(( Tag List? Maybe?: @keanuispunk ))

#supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff

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alexsoenomel · 6 months

Text

Camping Shenanigans

Summary: You like both brothers and you decide to go camping for Sam's birthday.

Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, kissing, fluff

Word count: 4.9k

Note: Not beta read. It has been sitting in my drafts for months. Enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

"Camping? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Dean, it's my birthday," Sam answered.

"It was my idea," you chimed in as Dean shot you a death stare. "Kinda," You added.

***

It wasn't actually your idea. You just asked Sam a simple question:

“What’s something you always wanted to do but never had a chance to do it?”

He said camping.

"Why do you ask?"

"Your birthday is coming soon!" You told him and stuffed your face with some scrambled eggs you decided to have that morning.

"So?" Sam was a bit confused. He never really cared much about his birthday.

"Let's do something fun for your birthday. Every year is the same; Dean celebrates his birthdays hammered and dodging STDs like bullets, my birthdays are depressing because I'm always broke or sad or both, and yours…it's like you don't have birthdays."

"So,do you wanna go camping for my birthday?"

"Yes! And we can celebrate in nature with lots of alcohol."

"I mean sure, but Dean's gonna –"

"Oh fuck what Dean says he's coming too."

***

"Kinda?!"

"It will be fun Dean, besides spending time in nature will be good for you," Sam said.

"Actually, concerning amount of booze and chicks with daddy issues are the only two things that are good for me, not this!" He still kept protesting.

"You're going, Dean!" Sam told him.

"Fine, but if a snake bites me, I'm shaving your head!"

"Yeah, yeah! Pack a bag, we're going tomorrow morning!"

"TOMORROW MORNING?!" Dean’s voice went an octave higher.

"Yeah, and I'm driving!" Sam smirked.

"Not a chance," Dean simply said before taking a sip of beer.

You and Sam found a wonderful campsite in Greenheart National Park in Wyoming and decided to book it, long before telling Dean. Two nights under the stars in the middle of nowhere sounded wonderful, but Dean still wasn't impressed. Even after telling him, it wasn't a traditional campsite – it had toilets, outdoor showers and all-inclusive breakfast, lunch and dinner – he still wasn't impressed. Dean being Dean - he was protesting and whining, right until you actually sat in his car and he started the engine. He didn't like the idea, but it was Sam's birthday tomorrow and he would go to the ends of the Earth for his little brother.

The drive was long and seemed endless. Between trying to get comfortable, taking a nap, listening to music and eating snacks because of boredom, you couldn’t wait to spend time in nature and watch the stars. Sam was visibly excited, asking Dean every two hours where you were, explaining how to set up a tent, telling fun statistics about bear attacks which made Dean a bit uneasy. Sam’s inner child was slowly healing and yours was just happy to tag along. Dean's on the other hand…his inner child just wanted to get back to bed.

“This is going to be fun!” You laughed. “Dean, get ready to fight bears!”

“Shut your mouth!”

*****

After approximately 13 hours you finally arrived, far away from civilization. Everything was green, the sky was blue and the air was fresh. It was almost 9pm and even though it was May, it was a bit chilly.

"You will all get your tents, feel free to set up anywhere you like, but please don't go far away from the station," The bold man was speaking, aka the owner. He was a middle-aged man, very athletic and taller than Sam. Nice obnoxious smile too. "Dinner is in an hour and if anyone has to shower, showers and toilets are behind the gazebo. We will start the bonfire at 11pm if you wanna join. I'm making some good ol' homemade chips. Hope you enjoy your stay and please if you have any questions, concerns, I'm here."

"He seems nice," You whispered.

"Yeah, and bold," Dean added, clearly trying to sound funny. He tried and failed.

“He might be bold, but next to him you’re just a scrawny little bitch,” you clapped back, hoping it would sting him.

“Ouch!” It did.

Sam laughed.

*****

“So, do you want to share a tent?” You asked the brothers as they shared a look of concern.

“Well…” Sam started, but was unable to finish his thought.

“Mmm..” Dean too.

They didn’t like the idea, so naturally you decided to go with it and ask the owner to give you the biggest tent he could find. “For the three of you?” The guy asked, pointing a finger at Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup. You were the last one to get your tent. Some people already found their spot and set up theirs.

“Yes, the biggest one please. I don’t wanna be suffocated by these two.”

The guy chuckled. “Roger that!” He then went into the storage room and started rummaging through his things. After a minute he came back holding a large black bag. “Here you go!” He said and tossed it to Sam. “That will do!” He also gave you three sleeping bags and you were off.

“Thank you so much!” You said.

****

You found your spot far away from people next to a pine tree that was sticking out from the rest of the forest that was behind you. The hill was beautiful, grass perfectly cut, the sky covered in stars like freckles scattered all over, while the air felt colder than an hour ago.

“I have no idea what I’m doing!” Dean said, trying to see which part of the tent goes where, while you used the flashlight on your phone to guide him.

“Let me!” Sam said and gathered all the poles in one pile. He read a thing or two about different types of tents and recognized you got the one with a porch aka ‘the fancy one’.

“Well happy birthday Sammy!” You told him. “Congratulations on being one year closer to death!”

“Wow (Y/N), you sure know how to make a man feel like crap!” Dean scoffed.

“What’re you talking about Dean? I praise him all the time. Both of you!”

“Yeah, praise my ass!”

“You do have a great ass!” You winked at him. Dean just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms looking offended.

Sam laughed at your joke. “Thank you, but it’s not midnight yet!” ***

An hour later, Sam finally set up the tent and Dean was already on his second beer. This campsite was known for having unlimited amounts of booze and Dean was one happy camper when he found that out. Meanwhile Sam was really proud of himself for setting up his first tent. It was spacious and brand new. When you put the sleeping bags in, you realized you were going to get squished by the brothers. The tent was big, but not big enough.

You liked that idea, considering your long history of liking both of them and not being able to decide. It had been over ten years and you still couldn’t decide. They both had qualities you desired in a man and were special in their own way. Sam’s height and intelligence made you want to climb him like a tree and never get down, while Dean’s perfect smile and snarky humor made you want to make him whimper under you. They were childhood friends and lived across the street, and since your parents liked to hang out you would see them almost every weekend.

Once they moved across the country you still stayed in touch - texted and called every once in a while, but your heart was aching for them. You missed them dearly. It all fell into place once you saw Sam one random Monday morning on campus at Stanford and your shenanigans started again. Dean decided more education was too much for his brain, so he opened a small music store in San Diego and was doing surprisingly well. You started hanging out again, going to pubs, having movie nights, game nights…

You and Sam would also visit Dean and everything seemed to make sense once again. You were like three peas in a pod – same but slightly different.

Over the years you learned how to ignore your feelings and push those thoughts away, and yet sometimes you'd catch your stomach flipping every time they would bring up past relationships or flings. They both didn't want to settle down, and while you liked the idea of it, you were picky and hadn’t found someone who was worthy of you to settle down with.

"Shower and alcohol?" You asked Sam, since Dean had already showered and was now on his third beer.

"Yes please."

Showering in nature was a first for you. You thought you were going to freeze but surprisingly even though you did, it felt amazing on your skin. You enjoyed the wind making you shiver.

“How was it, Sam?” You said, stepping out of the shower in nothing but a towel. Sam actually took the time and got dressed in the wooden shower cabin.

“Cold.” He answered, his voice shivering. His wet hair was slick back, a blue shirt accentuating his muscles, while the gray sweatpants he wore particularly outlined his cock, making it hard to focus.

The things I’d do to that man are ungodly and borderline illegal.

SNAP OUT OF IT!

“And refreshing,” You added.

“You should get dressed before you get sick.”

“Okay, mother!” You rolled your eyes and went back to the tent.

Anything for you, handsome!

***

Dinner was delicious – Dutch oven mac and cheese. Everybody got one big full plate and it was better than you could imagine; very salty and cheesy.

It was nice to sit and look at the bonfire while eating your favorite childhood meal but soon you just wanted to get away from the people and loud noise. You stuck around for a few minutes, watching the fire and chatting with a few nice girls you met while waiting for dinner before your social battery completely died. You excused yourself and left. You weren’t in the mood for small talk anymore – Sam and Dean were a lot better at it than you and they were a lot more social too. You decided to watch from afar and sit on the porch swing that was looking directly at the bonfire surrounded by people having a great time. You were sipping your beer watching the fire go wild as the bold guy threw a few branches, making it stable enough to actually start making his homemade chips in the skillet. You felt like a kid again. The beer was just enough to relax you even though the taste wasn't the best. The stars decided to shine that night, while the crescent moon was too shy to show its whole face.

“Having fun over there?” You heard a familiar voice and saw a shadow of a person approaching you. It was Dean.

“Yeah, just don’t feel like talking to people,” you told him.

He sat down next to you and put his beer bottle next to yours. You exchanged looks in semi- complete darkness and made a toast.

“Cheers!”

“Happy birthday to Sam!” You said, looking at Sam who was talking to a guy much shorter than him.

“I swear it was yesterday he was learning how to walk,” Dean told you.

“You sound like my mother,” You chuckled.

Your mind was getting tired and since the swing was made out of wood, you were struggling to get comfortable. Your head decided to rest on his shoulder as you took a sip of your beer, eyes still on Sam. Your hands wrapped around his arm as you lifted your legs on the swing. His arm was firm and he smelled too good for your own good – something between leather and pines surrounding you. He seemed to be tense though, or at least that was what you thought.

“Dean, I don’t bite, unless you want me to! Relax!”

You couldn’t see but he just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I’m relaxed!”

“Well damn, you have been working out then!” You decided to compliment him. As much as you loved roasting him, making him feel good was also important to you.

“Not so bad for a scrawny little bitch, huh?”

“Shut up!”

***

The night was growing cold and you were getting tired. You didn't know the time, since your phone was back in the tent, but one thing you knew – it was time to go to sleep. The Winchesters were having a great time lingering in the crowd so you decided to leave them to have their fun and go to sleep.

"Guys, I'm gonna go hit the sack!" You shouted from afar, since you saw, they were talking to someone – a man you didn't know and didn't want to know.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I'm tired! Good night, guys!"

"Good night!" They said in sync.

You snuggled up in your sleeping bag, shivering from the cold and realized; since you were sleeping on the ground you won't be able to get one hundred percent comfortable so the only logical thing was to take melatonin for sleep. That magic pill could make any surface feel like clouds and on top of that made you actually have nice dreams, since you didn't dream as much.

You took one pill and chugged a good amount of water. You were out in about 45 minutes.

***

Sam's lips were on your neck, kissing, biting, making you shiver; while Dean's lips went lower and lower. You didn't know which name to moan first, hell, you didn't know where you were, but it was blissful and a whole lot of sinful.

Dean's lips reached your panties and before he moved them to the side, he placed a kiss making you squirm. Sam's large hands were playing with your breasts while he couldn't separate his lips from your neck.

As soon as Dean's tongue touched your throbbing clit, you arched your back in pleasure. He was slow, and with the combination of Sam's rough kisses, your body was overwhelmed and feeling nothing but intense pleasure.

"Dean!" You whispered. “Dean!”

"(Y/N)?" Dean mumbled, his eyes half open, even though he couldn't see shit.

"Sam! Fuck!" This time, a whisper, sounding more like a light moan of his brother's name.

"You kiddin'?" He was now fully awake and fully aware you were in fact not trying to wake him up.

"So good!"

"I'll be damned!" He whispered, not really sure what to do. Sam wasn't saying a word so he figured he was in a coma since he had too many beers a few hours ago. You were squished between them but somehow ended up being closer to Dean so he decided to snap you back to reality.

"(Y/N)!" He whispered, this time a little bit louder. "Wake the hell up!" He said, trying to shake you to wake you up.

"Huh, what?" You finally mumbled as he violently pulled you back to reality. It took you a couple of seconds to realize it was, all in fact, just a dream.

"You snore like a buzzsaw!" He lied.

"Oh sorry!"

And without saying anything else, you both went to sleep. It took Dean a couple of minutes though, since he couldn't stop thinking about what he heard.

Dirty girl.

Was the last thing he thought before passing out.

****

The next morning you woke up well rested but in pain. Your body felt stiff until you stretched and actually got out of the tent. It was cold during the night, the air was fresh, but with the first rays of the sun came the heat, and you weren’t awoken by the sound of your alarm, it was the heat and stuffy air. When you looked at your phone, it was almost eight in the morning and time for breakfast. You were alone in the tent, Sam and Dean were already up. You got your toothbrush and toothpaste and went to do your business. You couldn't stop thinking about the damn dream. It was too vivid for your own good. The way Dean kissed you with his perfect full lips, Sam’s hands on your hot skin, their moans, groans and big girthy co-

“Good morning, princess,” you heard Dean say as you waited in line to get your breakfast sandwich, still sleepy. He wasn’t a morning person whatsoever so hearing him sound this jolly was strange.

“Morning,” you didn’t even bother to look at him as you turned around and went to find a place to sit. People were already chatting, having their morning coffees and enjoying the fresh air, while you struggled to exist. It was too early to think, too early to speak and too early to be a human.

Dean followed you after he poured himself another cup of freshly made black coffee.

You lazily opened your sandwich from the wrapper and took a first bite; ham, cheese, ketchup, lettuce…usual stuff. It was a little dry for your taste buds, but it wasn’t bad.

“How did you sleep?” Dean asked, sitting next to you.

“Like a baby,” You mumbled, chewing. You could feel his eyes on you, as you turned to look at him, he was indeed staring back at you with a little smirk on his face. “What?”

“Oh I bet you slept real good,” he teased. His deep and raspy voice was too close to your left ear, sending shivers down your spine, all over your body. You ignored it.

“What are you implying, Winchester?” You asked, genuinely confused, not really thinking about…oh. OH! You remembered. The dream. Maybe he heard you mumbling in your sleep. Do I sleep talk? You still played dumb.

“Dream a little dream of me and Sammy, eh?” His smirk was still there, you knew he wasn’t going to let it go.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You replied. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went Dora the explorer around the park.”

Sam was both night and day. He enjoyed both darkness and light. The darkness was for reading and the light was for hiking and jogging.

After you finished breakfast, you poured yourself a cup of coffee that was now lukewarm. It still tasted like coffee when it touched your lips and still gave you that kick you needed.

Dean was still keeping you company for some reason, he was close, too close and kind of getting on your nerves. You had a feeling he wanted to ask you something but swallowed all the words in the English language. You assumed what he was curious about, you just didn’t want to embarrass yourself. We are our egos after all, and in time we learn how to tame that part of ourselves and not let it control us. You weren’t going to blush and get flustered in front of Dean Winchester.

“What’s the plan for today?” You asked.

“Did you dream about sleeping with me and Sam?” Dean evidently didn’t register your question. And he finally found the words. You choked on your coffee not expecting to be hit with a question. You didn’t expect that kind of question.

“You did!” He said as his face lit up in a second.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

He was a child. A man-child. He wasn’t going to let it go, not until you confessed. Sighing in frustration, you calmly put down your coffee-stained mug and looked him in the eyes. They were beautiful, greener than the forest around you.

“I did,” you confessed.

“Yeah, I know I heard you,” he smiled, showing off his perfect teeth. He was beautiful but you still wanted to punch him in the face.

“Can I drink my coffee in peace now, please?”

“Yes, you may, sinner.”

The embarrassment you felt disappeared as soon as you saw Sam coming back from his little, to quote Dean, ‘Dora the Explorer’ adventure, all sweaty and ready for a shower. You weren’t embarrassed, you were horny.

“Morning!”

“Morning Sam!” You spoke.

“Sleep well?”

“Oh yeah, you bet she did!” Dean told him. You rolled your eyes.

Sam gave him a confused look not getting the joke. He doesn’t know.

“Awful, your brother kept making happy noises all night,” you lied. Figured you would get back at him for being a dick. Dean’s mouth slightly opened.

“Dude, gross!” Sam’s reaction was more than welcome considering Dean hadn’t stopped annoying you ever since you had a bite of that dry sandwich. Once he left to shower, you turned to his older brother.

“Don’t fuck with me!”

***

The day was cloudy and cold. Some people were playing board games and listening to music, some were reading their favorite books, while others went to explore the national park. You immersed yourself in the book you were currently reading, while Sam and Dean played Monopoly under the kitchen gazebo that wasn’t just a kitchen, it had a space for everything; space where you could sit and relax, a table, and two couches placed right across each other. A multipurpose gazebo: kitchen, dining room and a living room. Well, Sam was teaching Dean how to play and Dean was losing and cursing every few minutes.

“You were never good with money, Dean!” You chuckled, eyes still on the page you were reading.

“And you’re loud!” He sassed. You lifted your head to look at him and he just gave you a wink. You knew damn well why.

You elected to ignore it.

Soon enough, it was lunch time: delicious goulash and for dessert, a slice of apple pie.

“Warrior food!” Dean said, stuffing his mouth.

He wasn’t wrong. The food was fresh and absolutely delicious.

“Do you guys want to play volleyball after we eat?” Sam asked.

“You’re joking?” Dean lifted his eyebrow. “I don’t do sports and I especially don’t do sports after lunch.”

“Grandpa!” You said and told Sam to count you in.

A few minutes later, the bald, good-looking dude came to say there was going to be another party, from 7pm to when everybody goes to sleep. He also said there was going to be lots and lots of alcohol considering it was a goodbye party. Dean was excited, you were too busy reading your book and Sam finally bankrupted his older brother.

You ended up playing volleyball with Sam for almost two hours. He asked the bald guy if they had any volleyballs after lunch and the guy was more than happy to be of service. There was a small chunk of land which they turned into a volleyball court, far away from people who were hanging out around the gazebo and far away from Dean who decided to take a nap after eating too many slices of pie.

“Are you enjoying your birthday so far, Sammy?” You asked as you served him the ball which, he slammed a little too hard and it flew across your head.

“Oops!” He said with an awkward smile. “Best one so far!”

“Told you!” You raised your voice going a few steps away from the court to get the ball.

As you were playing and growing tired, you couldn't help but notice how tight his black t-shirt was, perfectly hugging his body as he started to sweat. His hair still a little damp, slick back and tucked behind his ears, his lower lip between his teeth trying to concentrate on the ball in the sky – the man was simply gorgeous. It was hard to concentrate on the damn game when your mind wandered.

How does his lips taste? Does he have a big dick? Probably. The man is huge. FOCUS!

So many questions and no wins.

After losing 3:0, you decided to take a shower and get ready for the party. You were in the mood to drink and not get nervous around both brothers.

It was getting cold, so after a quick cold shower, you decided to wear your favorite pair of gray sweats and a very old Led Zeppelin hoodie your dad gave you a long time ago.

People already started drinking by the time you finished getting ready.

"Hey, nice hoodie you got there!" Dean commented as soon as he saw you. One of the things you absolutely adored about Dean was his awesome music taste. You were both old schools.

"You've seen me in this at least a hundred times Dean!" You chuckled.

"And every time I'm going to tell you how awesome it is," he said proudly. "Where's Sam?"

"Showering."

"Again?"

"Yeah, you know Dean, after physical activity you get all sweaty and gross," you told him and took a paper cup filled with red wine from the table under the gazebo. Suddenly, the familiar melody of Toxic by Britney Spears blasted through the speakers.

"It was sweaty and gross alright," Dean joked and like always, you rolled your eyes, and took a sip of the wine. It wasn't too sweet and definitely was cheap considering how watered down it was.

***

After three cups, you grabbed your fourth one as your vision started to blur. Your thoughts were scrambled, between being nervous because of Dean's annoying teasing, and not giving a flying fuck about anything and just wanting to let loose, but there was a sense of tranquility in them. You loved the idea of him knowing your dirty thoughts, and you loved even more watching Sam being simultaneously confused and stunning while listening to you two bicker. The alcohol wasn't helping you. The undying need to be in a delicious Winchester sandwich only grew stronger with each sip…

You saw Sam coming from the toilet after the shower and something in you snapped. You swallowed nervously before chugging the rest of the wine and decided to toss all the fucks you had out the window.

“Hey, handsome!” You said, seeing his face change from content to a little nervous. You'd never called him that.

“Hey!” Was all he could muster.

“In the mood for a drink?”

“Sure,” he said. “But only one, and I'm out. I’m tired.”

“Okie dokie.”

Sam's drink of choice was beer. Dean was somewhere in the crowd, nowhere in your sight. Perfect.

“Cheers!” He said. No matter how big or small his smile was, his dimples would always show on his cheeks and you found it adorable. He was adorable and his lips were much more kissable after almost four cups of wine.

“Cheers,” you smiled back. “To you Sammy!”

“I didn't tell you but you're a solid volleyball player.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A solid player? Really? You won 3:0.”

“Well, yeah because you're short, and for some reason your focus was nonexistent but your serve was excellent.”

“I'm short?” You weren't offended by any means, he was in fact much taller than you, but still surprised he said it so bluntly.

“Short and sweet?” He corrected himself with an awkward smile before taking another sip of his beer.

“Sweeter than sugar, sugar,” you didn't know where that came from. It sounded kind of lame, you thought, so you quickly changed the subject. “And my focus was nonexistent because of your sorry ass.” You said before playfully tapping him on his shoulder.

“Me?”

Something about the innocence of that man made you absolutely feral. You had a feeling he wasn't so innocent behind closed doors. The idea of his lips on yours didn't want to leave your mind as your eyes couldn't stop staring at him with pure, drunken adoration.

“(Y/N)?”

You wanted to speak but something told you to not use a single word of the English language. Instead, you pulled him by his black hoodie and crashed your lips on his. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away, his body was stiff for a few seconds before letting go and deepening the kiss, making you balance yourself on your tiptoes. You felt him cup your left cheek with his free hand as you bit his lower lip, earning a moan from him. His nose crashed against yours, tasting alcohol mainly from your lips, Sam felt his cock getting hard. It hit him that he was wearing gray sweatpants so naturally that was a sign to pull away. People around you were too busy singing ABBA songs to give a fuck.

“Well…” Sam said, not knowing where his thoughts were as he instinctively looked down and saw the outline of his cock. “Crap.”

Your gaze followed and you were happy it did. He was big, bigger than you'd imagined.

"Sammy, is that a gun or you're just happy to see me?” You winked. That was horrible.

“Shut up,” he sassed back, giving you a bitch face he would always give to Dean.

He covered his groin with his hands, looking around awkwardly to see if anyone was looking. Of course they weren't. Everybody was either drunk or high or both.

Suddenly Sam's gaze was fixed behind you as he visibly clenched his jaw. You turned around and of course it was Dean.

“Oh there you are!” You said with enthusiasm and kissed him, pulling him closer by his jacket.

Sam was stunned, while you could feel Dean smiling before kissing you back and letting you put your tongue in his mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and enjoyed the softness of his puffy lips on yours. He was a lot gentler than Sam – more innocence but still the same amount of passion.

When you finally broke away, your drunk self just mumbled, “You two are irresistible.”

Sam was still visibly confused while Dean couldn't stop smiling.

362 notes · View notes

jaylver · 1 year

Text

CASINO LOVE AFFAIR — P.JS

SYNOPSIS: Hunting supernatural beings is not your passion at all. But somehow, you were always inevitably tied to it. To make your grudge against it deeper, someone had to drag you along a bumpy ride. Who was it? The man that broke into your house in the middle of the night to convince you to join him to save his lost brother in Sin City, Vegas. Jay had one chance to save his brother, and another one chance to rekindle something that was lost between you and him. All in that one casino.

PAIRINGS: supernatural hunter!jay x supernatural hunter afab!reader

GENRE: frenemies (with benefits) to lovers, supernatural au, inspired by tv series "supernatural", jay is based off "dean winchester", romance, angst, action

WARNING(S): profanities, drinking, mentions of death/murder, violence, suggestive content (no smut), slightly possessive jay, demons, possessions

WC: 11k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: specially dedicated to my supernatural enthusiasts, especially to my dean girlies (gn) who loves jay! rest assured, there's going to be hoon ver (based off sammy) <3 i hope you'll love this one as much as i enjoyed writing it, please leave feedbacks!!

masterlist | © jaylver 2023

In this world, accidents and tragedies were recurring happenings, but what people didn't understand was the fact that neither were coincidences. You heard that right, it might sound insanely crazy, but the supernatural exists.

There were two types of people on planet Earth. Ones that were blessed with obliviousness, unaware that the local murder case wasn't just a simple serial killer on the loose. Then, there's the ones that were rather cursed with the ability of hunting, knowing the real truths behind tragedies and solving said supernatural cases. They were known as hunters.

No, not the hunters that chase after deers with a gun, but rather chasing after demons, vampires and much more freaky stuff with more than just a single gun.

You were, unfortunately, part of the small percentage of hunters that were tasked to hunt supernatural beings and protect others. You never wanted this life, you despised it, the constant fear constantly followed. It was your father who dragged you into this, being a hunter himself, it was natural he had to train you to become one as well.

You were an only child, so it was no surprise your father ended up dragging you along to hunts and let's say the amount of therapy wasn't enough to heal the traumas you've witnessed and experienced. Dread was the feeling you carried up until your 20s, tired of this life and craving the normal college life of an ordinary being, but then that was when everything changed. Your father was killed.

You guessed it, freak accident with a vampire. Fantastic. Just to make things even more complicated, the infamous Park brothers turned up at your front door pretending to be police officers, doing their usual investigation, or rather identity fraud. What they didn't know was that you knew who they were, so they were eventually busted. You still accepted their help either way, finding the vampires and bringing your father to justice.

That all happened a few years ago, constantly staying in contact with the Park brothers while they travelled around hunting and you stayed home merrily, occasionally meeting if they were in town. Mostly, the best you could repay them was at least some help in information. You were glad to finally start afresh, getting a new job and shopping for new furniture. You thought this was it, time to settle down and put everything in the past.

But, you spoke too soon.

You were a light sleeper. From the years of your father's gruelling training, you learnt to listen for any weird noses during the night, and it surely did help. You could barely sleep, hearing odd creaks as your adrenaline increased, imagining the scenario where you had to reach for the iron knife under your bed.

Creak. Creak. Creak.

The faint footstep got closer and louder, reaching your side of the bed, standing right beside you and stopped eventually. You sensed a figure, this wasn't good. Demon? Vampire? Your hand slowly travelled down to the spot of your knife, eyes shut tight and heart beating crazily. In the count of three, strike.

One … two … three—

"Woah, woah, woah, easy there tiger,"

Your hand reacted first, thrusting the knife forward without your eyes open, but once the voice travelled into your ears and your mind turned, you opened your eyes in an instant.

This was worse than a demon.

"Jay?"

One of the Park brothers happened to be standing in the middle of your bedroom. At three in the morning. Were you going to question how he got in? Maybe later.

"Y/N," he saluted back at you, a noticeable grin on his face despite the darkness, but you remained impassive, a wary look on your face and your hold on the knife didn't relax.

“Hold on,” you said, scrambling out of bed, scepticism clear in your voice, your stance unchanged as you held tight onto the knife. “Are you really Jay?”

Jay tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. "You're seriously doubting me? Right now?"

"Hey, I'm a hunter, you're a hunter, we both know this is basic caution,"

"Alright," he threw his hands up, giving in. "Quiz me,"

"Where's my birthmark?"

"You're seriously asking this—?"

"You've forgotten it?" You stared accusingly at him, the knife in your hand was dangerously close to him and he was clearly aware of that too. "You're the only person who knows this," you narrowed your gaze.

"It's been ages since the last time we fucked—"

"Can you not bring that up?"

"Fine. On your back," he answered, his eyes flickering between you and the knife.

"Where?"

"That specific?" He whined, but once he saw you were, in fact, not kidding, he cleared his throat. "Lower back, on the right, almost at the side. It's a small birthmark that is shaped like a heart,"

You blinked. Thankful it wasn't some creature disguised as him, but also churning in slight rage that he was here. Look, you and Jay had … some interesting history. No bad blood was caused from it, but it had affected your ties with him, which explained why he was the lesser favourite brother to you. He was never going to know that though.

Just for old times sake and also not seeing him for months, you threw the knife onto the bed, engulfing him into a hug. "Gods, you're alive,"

He chuckled, his hand rubbing your back. "Of course I am. Doubting my skills now?"

"Jay, you literally died and came back before," you pulled away, staring pointedly at him.

"That was the past, this is the present," he waved it off, coughing awkwardly and you rolled your eyes. You switched on your table lamp, taking a small bottle from your bedside drawer and handing it to him.

"What's this? Complimentary water for guests?"

"Holy water, if you count that as complimentary,"

"You're kidding. I passed your quiz,"

"I'm trying to be sure there's no hidden demon inside your body, okay?" You raised the small bottle to eye level. "Drink up,"

"Fine," Jay gritted, snatching the bottle from your hand, chugging half of it down. No demon, thankfully. "See?"

"Just wanted to confirm," you tossed the bottle back into the drawer, turning to face him with a quizzical stare. "Now, are you going to tell me why you've broken into my house in the middle of the night?"

"Breaking in? Pft,"

"Jay," you said flatly, a stern look gazing back at him. "What are you doing here?"

Jay clenched his jaw, seemingly rethinking his words in his mind, calculatingly picking the right ones to make sure you wouldn't explode. "I need help,"

"No,"

"What?" He was taken aback by your bluntness. "You always helped us,"

"Busting into my house at 3 AM doesn't sound like your usual need for my help. You want me to do something more hands-on, don't you?"

Jay was silent. You got him there.

"Jay, I am always here for help. You do know I literally commit illegal things just to dig up information for you two right? But that's the most I'll do and the least I can do for you, I swore I wouldn't go back into hunting,"

"But this one's important,"

"You have Sunghoon to help you anyway,"

"He's gone,"

The next few sentences you had in mind died in your throat. The other Park brother was missing? There was no way this happened. They were skilled hunters, what went wrong?

Jay cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, noticing your obvious shock. "Look, that's why I'm here. Hoon's gone, poof, missing. One second he was at the motel and the next when I got back, he's gone. I should've never left,"

"Any ideas what it could've been?"

"No," he shook his head, frustration laced in the way he had his eyebrows furrowed.

"How are we supposed to find him? Jay, I'm no sorcerer or a crossroad demon that can summon him up. I could be as equally lost as you are,"

He ran his hands through his hair, heaving a deep and heavy sigh. "I don't know either. I'm fucked, okay? I don't have anyone else to find but you, and there's no one that knows Hoon as much as I do but you,"

"How do I know I can trust you this time?" You mindlessly let the words slip out, referring to the incident that caused the slight crack between you two, its effect remained even after.

"I told you I'm sorry already, Y/N," he said softly, catching on your innuendo at once.

It was the last time you went on an actual hunt with the Park brothers when it happened. Crazy monsters and demon ladies were nothing too big for you three, but the moment a human was involved, the hunt became vulnerable.

A part of you wanted to save the innocent man even though he was long gone and already affected by the creature, turning wild gradually. Being the rash and impulsive person Jay was, he demanded to kill the man at once, Sunghoon trying to calm him down while you fought back.

It was a stupid argument, you were emotional and he was aggressive, Sunghoon trying to be neutral and diffusing the tension, but failed. In the end, a cure was found but Jay had already killed the man. Even though you were able to save the others, a part of you continued to seethe with anger.

'Too emotional' was what Jay called you. Storming away was the only thing you could muster in that moment, and it took a few days before he showed up at your front door apologising with a bouquet of flowers. Were you fully satisfied? Not really. Did things change? Definitely.

As for now, you pondered thoughtfully. Despite your valiant efforts of escaping the supernatural part of your past, you knew it was imminent it would come back, just not like this. Sunghoon was a nice guy, he and his brother helped you and your family before, and some part of you wanted to do the same. You swore you didn't want to hunt with the Park brothers after that incident, and it seemed that you had no choice but to eat your words. You were going to regret your decision, you know so.

"Okay," it came out more of a whisper, which made Jay lean in closer, an eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"Okay, fine, I'll go with you to find Sunghoon. Don't make me go back on my word,"

"Right, right," Jay said rather excitedly, his eyes beaming. "Gods, how did I manage to get the Y/N L/N to hunt with me? I am a lucky man,"

"Don't test your luck," you took the iron knife from your bed and pointed it at him, earning a sleazy eye roll from the latter.

"You still have your gears with you?" He glanced around your room, not a single weapon in sight, only messy heaps of clothes.

"Duh," your hand reached for the bottom of your pillow, pulling out another blade, made purely from iron, perfect for killing supernatural beings. "When are we leaving?"

"Best before day break,"

"So … roadtrip?"

"You bet."

Begrudgingly, you shoved some clothes into a small carry on, packing guns, knives, blades, salt. Yes, salt, sodium. It might seem weird but salt literally saves lives, literally. An insignificant kitchen ingredient held a significant role by protecting people from spirits attack. Rock salts were used as ammunition as well to ward spirits off for a short time. Insane, right?

Jay helped you fit your bags into the trunk of his Chevrolet Impala, one that he has been driving almost forever. Among your bags, there were a shit ton of weapons, quite messily scattered around, some stuck on the trunk door. It was certainly a rich collection.

“Hop in, dollface. Be my guest,”

You rolled your eyes as Jay opened the car door for you. He was still the same old Jay. Promiscuous, teasing, haughty, but you supposed that was the charming point of him. You remembered the insides of the car as clear as day when you got in, almost felt like it was just yesterday when you were in it.

“Where to?” you turned to look over at Jay who had just slammed the car door shut, his hands on the wheel, a cheshire grin pulled at his lips.

“Vegas,” he flashed you a toothy smirk, but you could only mirror his expression with an unamused one.

“Sin city? You’re kidding. Why on earth are we heading there—God, Jay, don’t tell me you developed some gambling addiction—”

“No! For fuck’s sake,” Jay pulled the car to start, the headlights brightened the dark street at once. Well, goodbye to your home, you hoped you would make it back alive. “It was where Hoonie and I had our last hunt, the place he went missing, and funny thing, the hunt is incomplete,”

“So, you’re telling me you drove all the way to my house from Vegas in the middle of an unfinished hunt just because Sunghoon’s gone,”

“‘Just because’? Y/N, it’s life or death!”

“I’m not saying this isn’t important!” you bite back, sleep deprivation wasn’t helping your increased agitation. “Didn’t this happen before? One of you goes missing and the other solves the case and finds each other? What’s so big this time?”

“This did happen,” Jay sighed, the bags under his eyes obvious despite the darkness surrounding you, the tuned down rock music played faintly on the radio. “I went lost, got captured by some psycho killer, whatever, but it was traceable, it always was, but this time … something’s different and it’s definitely not only a psycho killer, it’s something stronger, darker,”

“Jolly. A demon,” you wondered aloud, Jay humming in agreement. “Mind telling me what hunt you and Sunghoon were on in Vegas before his disappearance?”

“Saw on the news about deaths in a casino, so Hoon and I decided to check it out, and guess what we found? Sulphur,” demons tend to leave sulphur around, finding sulphur basically indicated a demon’s presence, pretty basic information.

“A demon on massacre duties in a casino? I feel like this one is out for money, something to do with his greed and desire,” you speculated, unsurprised as these were common occurrences.

"Likely," Jay clicked his fingers, his eyebrows bunched together, a scheming look on his face. "Here's the thing, we were somewhat on the road to uncovering some truths, on who the real demon was, but that's when this happened, it's no coincidence that he probably took Hoonie,"

"Which means you still don't know who's the mastermind in that casino right now? Or where Sunghoon could possibly be?"

"No," he answered bitterly, his fingers strumming the steering wheel softly. "And I think the jackass jumps into different bodies working there each time, it's hard to trace,"

"Are we going around splashing holy water? How are we supposed to know whose body is being possessed?"

"We don't," he said plainly, and matter-of-factly, turning his face just enough for you to catch him winking at you. "But we do know he's a higher up, a man with a position, or maybe positions,"

"Guess it's our lucky day testing our fortune on catching demons and winning at casinos,"

"Looks just like the movies,"

Upon entering the state of Nevada at nightfall, you were welcomed with the blistering nightlife of Las Vegas, the bright lights blinding your sights and you couldn't help but be fascinated.

"Where are we heading?"

"Towards the hotel the man was murdered in," Jay nodded at one of the big and tall hotels ahead. "There's a famous casino in that hotel, lots of people constantly betting, rich and powerful men are frequently present,"

"A perfect spot for a money hungry demon,"

"Bingo,"

Jay parked his beloved car and was rather sad leaving it behind in a shabby parking lot. You knew he loved his car, sometimes clingy and attached, but he loved it a little too much.

Grabbing your bags and a seperate one full of weapons, you and Jay headed into the hotel and towards the reception, where a bright young woman named Carrie was smiling back at you both.

"You're not going to make me spray holy water at her, right?" You said quietly in hopes of the receptionist not hearing it.

"I'm not stopping you," Jay passed you an unamused half grin.

"Hello! How may I assist you?" Carrie greeted enthusiastically, but frankly, none of you could reciprocate the same energy.

"We'd like to book two rooms please," Jay slid the card towards Carrie, hoping to get this over with quickly.

"Just two?" She glanced between you and Jay, a question mark basically floating above her head. "We have a 'couples exclusive' promotion though,"

You and Jay shared a look, turning back to the receptionist. "Two, please,"

"There's free access to the facilities and the buffet," Carrie continued on. "Oh—uhm—there's a jacuzzi here too,"

Jay turned to you, you stared back, a knowing look passed between one another, releasing sighs of displeasure.

"We'll take it,"

It would be an understatement to just say the hotel was fancy, it was more than fancy. High ceilings, marble floors, chandeliers, everything was almost in gold. You were able to catch a slight glimpse of the casino as you passed, and indeed, it was packed with people. Boy, you were about to have a time trying to find out who's the real imposter.

"I definitely spotted some sulphur just now," Jay shook his head, his eyes scanning the floor, walls and surroundings. "I think this one has minions here,"

"Amazing," you clicked your tongue, impatiently stalking through the soundless corridor in search of your designated room. You were dying to dive into your hotel bed.

"Do you think we have enough?" Jay eyed the bag of weapons as you two stood outside your room, but just before you could answer, a stranger appeared next to you two, holding a keycard to the room next to yours.

"Oh, I'm sure it's enough," the stranger, a middle aged lady, laughed.

You glanced at Jay, a cautionary sign was understood. "W–what do you mean?" Jay chuckled nervously.

"Condoms? That's what you meant, right?" The lady snickered, and you were absolutely dumbfounded. "Just keep it down kids, it's not entirely soundproof here and I need sleep. It's nice meeting you guys!"

The lady slammed the door behind her, leaving you and Jay standing there like statues, a little confusion and surprise in the air.

"Condoms," you echoed, shuddering slightly.

Jay turned to look at you, a pensive look in his gaze, eyebrows raised slightly. "Do you … unless—?"

"Zip it," you hoisted the bags, opened the door and stormed in while Jay remained standing there, a defensive look replacing his previous one.

"Hey, I didn't even say it," he shouted from the outside, taking his bags from the floor.

"I know what you're trying to say, thank you! Now get your ass in here before I shut you out,"

"Yes, ma'am," Jay scrambled in and shut the door close, soon noticing your figure looming over the bed and was curious. "What's up?"

"There's only one bed," you glanced down at the king size bed, a heart formed from rose petals decorated it and you found it highly ridiculous. "And they made it romantic, how sweet,"

"You're kidding me," Jay ran his hand across his tired face, a weary sigh leaving his lips. "I'll take the couch,"

You stopped him there. "Dude, you're going to be hunting demons, I'm not letting you get backaches from a lousy couch,"

"There's no way you're sleeping on it either,"

You bit your lips, maybe sleeping on the same bed for a few nights wouldn't hurt, right? It certainly wasn't your first time with Jay anyway, but business was business, and this was far from being professional.

"Let's just share the same bed,"

Jay stared doubtfully at you, as if he couldn't believe those words had come out of your mouth. "You're up for that?"

"Do you think we have any other choices?" You crossed your arms, mirroring his pointed gaze.

"Touche," he nodded thoughtfully, dropping his bags to a corner. "Just don't kick me in my sleep,"

"I'll be happy to kick you now instead."

"Stop staring!"

Despite being tired and worn out, you and Jay dragged yourselves out from the room in hopes of some food and checked out the hotel and casino.

The inside of the casino was bright and painted in gold, red themed colours. It was extremely busy and crowded, many were yelling in surprise and joy, while there were those in despair over losing. Jay, on the other hand, was too busy staring at by-passing girls to focus on the real purpose.

"What?" He hissed defensively, winking at another server and you rolled your eyes at his never changing behaviour.

"You can enjoy whatever you want after everything, okay? Not to be a killjoy but there's a demon here that took your brother,"

"Hey! I'm aware,"

"Sure," you mumbled sarcastically, looking around the table and observing people's faces, but you knew none of these normal citizens were possessed.

"Do you think we can meet the host or manager tonight?" Jay made sure to whisper that quietly, glancing around warily.

"You think one of them would be possessed?"

"The chances are high. Hoon and I went over to the dead man's house the other day, the wife told us he was close to the host, something by the name Sam? Sam Clerk?"

"Looking for me?"

You've never turned around so quick, your hand instinctively reached into your pocket for the small bottle of holy water, but Jay's hand stopped you discreetly, giving you one of his 'I got this' look.

"You're Sam Clerk?" Jay laughed awkwardly, playing it cool and casual.

The man before you was tall and seemingly in his mid 30s, his smile was wide and welcomingly, but there was a malevolent energy emitted from him. "Why yes, that's me. And you two are …?"

"I'm … Jack Williams,"

Sam glanced at you expectantly, and if you could dig yourself a grave then from the embarrassment, hoy would've. You cleared your throat, "I'm Stacy … Williams, he's my husband,"

You felt Jay's gaze on you, burning into your skin, but you ignored him and looped your arm around his.

"Oh!" Sam clapped in surprise, a pleasant smile spread across his face. "You two must be new here, right? I've never seen you before,"

"Right, we are," Jay patted your hand, plastering on his most convincing smile. "That was why we wanted to find you! We heard how great of a host you were and wanted an introduction,"

"I'm pleased, but I'm a little busy tonight, so I can't assist you unfortunately," a flash of change in his eyes was barely noticeable, but you caught onto it. "But there's a charity ball we're holding in two days, I would love to invite you both to attend,"

"We'd love to," you said almost immediately.

Sam chuckled, nodding in satisfaction. "Great. I'll see you … then."

Without another word, he left in a dash, moving almost like a shadow. You unknowingly let out a shaky breath, feeling goosebumps rise. "His energy was so off,"

"I know," Jay was thinking hard, his mind working extra hours. "So, it's him … but there's definitely another one which we don't know, there's no way this would be so easy, and we also need to know where Hoon is,"

"I think I have an idea," you held onto his forearm, pulling him on and continued your walk around the casino. "I did some digging on the history behind this hotel and the casino, and it goes way back,"

"How long?"

"Centuries. It was built on a cursed ground, but they didn't care, and guess what? There were deaths here over those years too, unexplained ones. Weird, huh? But that's not the point. There's some hidden underground chamber somewhere here, built by someone from the olden days, and it's said to harbour bad energy,"

"Attracts demons,"

"Perfect hideout,"

"But why Hoon?" Jay scratched his head, eyebrows furrowed and increasingly frustrated.

"I mean, you guys were hunting the demons and they caught on. Plus, timing was bad, you happened to be out,"

"True," Jay sighed. "We should ask that Sam guy more stuff during that charity ball, and we should start doing some digging tomorrow,"

"I'll use my flirting skills and wiggle information off him," you grinned, nudging his side teasingly.

"You should use it on me instead," he grumbled noisily.

"No chance," you smiled sarcastically at him, pulling him towards the bar. "Let's just enjoy tonight and drink a little, I definitely need some before diving into … everything,"

"Get ready to drink until you fall, L/N,"

"Challenge accepted, Park."

The night faded into a blur, you and Jay somehow wandered off without one another, but stayed within the vicinity. You were drinking alone at the bar, the alcohol seemed like water to you, your tolerance coming strong.

Jay was off at the side, leaning against the wall as he openly flirts with a random blonde girl. Laughing suavely, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his charming looks sweeping the blonde off her feet.

You shouldn't be feeling this way, but you would be lying if you said you were indifferent to him and the girl. It was no surprise you and him had history, even on the intimate level, but to have feelings for him? That was something new you slowly came about to realise.

Onto your new glass of gin, Jay slid into the empty seat next to you, looking far from drunk. You forgot Jay had an alcohol tolerance that challenged yours, making him an interesting drinking partner to have on most nights.

"What happened to the girl?"

"What girl?" He craned his neck to stare off at the distance before turning back to look at you, his face inching closer to yours. "Blondie? Nah," he shook his head, a playful grin appearing on his handsome face. "Can't believe I'm saying this but are you perhaps … jealous?"

"Me? Jealous? Don't be ridiculous," you pushed his face away, eliciting a humorous laugh from him.

"I think you are," Jay said in a sing-song tone under his breath. "Rest assure, sweetheart, I never fucked anyone else ever since our last night together," he winked, taking his jacket hanging from the chair and offered you his hand, which you grudgingly accepted.

"Are you sure you're not lying to me? Park Jong Seong, the man who hunts demons and loves to fuck around hasn't been bringing girls back?"

"Don't doubt me or my feelings here," he feigned a crying face dramatically to which you pulled a face at. “You’re seriously underestimating my feelings for you,” he said, a little seriously this time, raising his eyebrows at you before letting your hands go and leading the way back to the room, making sure to turn around to check up on you from time to time.

You were tired by the time you’ve reached your room, changing out of your outfit into a much more comfortable one while Jay did the same in another room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that you slept next to a man, even if he was one you’ve shared a bed with once.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jay yawned as he got under the sheets, you followed suit, shifting around for a better position. Your’s and Jay’s back faced each other, a distance obvious between you two.

“Night, Jay,” you switched the lights off, the room was dark, but you were wide awake. The unfamiliar bed had you tossing and turning, but also making an effort not to bump into Jay while doing so.

“We haven’t done this in a while,” Jay suddenly spoke into the darkness after barely ten minutes.

You bit back a smile, wrapping your hands tighter around yourself. “Yeah, we haven’t,”

"If I have to be honest, I miss it," you couldn't see Jay's face, only picturing it as he continued on. "I miss waking up next to you,"

"Jay …" you trailed off, heart squeezing slightly. "You know we can't,"

"I know," he repeated, a beat passed. "But what if we can?"

"You said it was too dangerous, you didn't want it,"

"I didn't say I didn't want it," he was quick to retaliate. "I want it, you know I do, but this job, this life, your life, I'll be a walking supernatural attractor,"

A short moment of silence filled the space between you and him, you let out a sigh. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to drop it for you, whether it was years ago or now, I don't think my feelings have changed. But that’s for you to accept anyway,"

Jay didn’t say anything more, your tiredness eventually brought you to sleep, unaware that he was still wide awake, turning around to glance at the back of your head, head filled with thoughts of you. Jay knew that being a hunter was a dangerous job, which meant romantic relationships and commitment were two hard things to tackle, even harder than killing supernatural things. But you were different to him. A one night together somehow turned his stone heart soft. The Park Jong Seong was truthfully in love with you. You were the angel to the devil in his heart. What’s stopping him was everything around his life, his cold demeanour, his fears.

The night melted into snores and wild dreams, the sun was soon peeking out of the horizons and sunlight streamed into your room. You were awoken by your alarm blaring by the bedside, slamming it off and trying stretching your limbs, but as you said, you tried.

Jay's arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, his body pressed against your side as its weight leaned against yours. You haven't been this intimate with him for months, and it certainly sparked something in you.

"God, Jay, wake up," you tapped his arm, trying to yank it off you, but he only retaliated by hugging your body tighter and tugging you closer to him.

"5 minutes," was all he could mumble before continuing his snores.

You scoffed, giving in with no choice. Since Jay indirectly wanted a lazy morning in, you decided it was best to call room service instead.

"Good morning, can I order some room service?" It was an awkward position with the phone against your ear, menu in your hands and a grown man's arm draped across your abdomen.

The women on the other line coughed uncomfortably. "Good morning, miss, but room service is currently unavailable. Something happened overnight …" she drifted off and your face scrunched into an expression of confusion.

"What … happened?"

"I don't know if I should be saying this—"

"I won't complain, I swear, I just want to know," you tried to be as convincing as you could, and somehow the women complied.

"A murder happened, in the casino, again," she breathed out, a pinch of disbelief in her tone. "I think it's cursed,"

Oh, you don't say.

"Is there anyone who's hurt?"

"Other than the murdered rich tycoon, no,"

Rich tycoon, as expected.

"Got it. Be safe,"

"You too."

You placed down the phone, shaking the man beside you who only let out gruff huffs of annoyance. "Hm?"

"Don't 'hm' me, get your ass up. We've got trouble."

Dragging a five foot ten grown man out of the bed was definitely a struggle, but in the end, it worked. After spilling the information you got earlier, he seemed content with just a cup of coffee and stormed towards the crime scene at once.

As expected, the police had surrounded the area and curious bystanders were peeking in from left and right. You and Jay slipped into the crowd, making sure to scan the area as much as you could, and as expected, traces of sulphur.

"Another one bites the dust, huh?" Jay hummed as you two roamed around the hotel aimlessly, unable to do much more but laying low since police officers were still around.

"Have you ever thought about there being more than one demon here?"

"Yeah, that guy we met with his demon minions, duh—"

"Forget about the minions, let's think about the powerful ones," you bite your lips thoughtfully. "Remember this hotel being built centuries ago?"

"Yeah?"

"Two brothers owned it. One was the head of everything while the other managed the casino mostly," you said, glancing around. "Ring a bell? I'm pretty sure the guy's just a vessel, they were the ones working here before they got possessed, the demon's in those bodies,"

"You're a genius," Jay gasped, coming to realisation as he pieced it one by one.

"Now, I think I also got a faint idea of the secret dungeon. Their office,"

"Any history lesson?"

"No, just a blind guess, but my sixth sense told me so and you know how trustable my sixth sense is,"

"It sure is," Jay nodded in agreement, proven by your skills in previous hunts. "Should we break into it?"

"Are you crazy? You're walking into hell," you knew it was no secret how impulsive he was, which explained why you were there in the first place. "I reckon we strike during the charity ball,"

"But how are we going to identify the other brother first?"

"Oh, speaking of the devil," you nodded over at the crime scene that was now a distance away. Two men appeared, one was Sam, and the other was someone you've never seen before, but strangely held a resemblance to Sam.

They possessed brothers? You're joking.

"That must be the man of the hour," Jay whistled, eyeing the two men conversing with the officers. The man was taller than Sam, older looking and had a similar friendly face to him that also seemed intimidating.

"They're leaving," the two brothers bid farewell to the officers, watching them leave before turning around and walking away themselves. Jay and his impulsiveness just had to strike again. "Let's follow them,"

"Huh?"

Before you fully register Jay's words, that fucker pulled you by the wrist and started sprinting off into the direction the demon brothers were heading. If you could sock Jay in the jaw at that moment, you would've.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" You hissed quiet enough to not blow your cover, following the brothers a short distance away as they headed towards their office.

"Trying not to, but shush, we need to hear what they're saying,"

The brother stopped just before the door to their office, you and Jay followed suit, your body almost crashing into him from the abrupt halt. Jay dragged you into a dingy closet packed with cleaning supplies, great, and there was barely any room to move, let alone take a step back, and thus you found yourself in a compromising position.

Jay glanced down at you, a smirk etched on his face. "Not our first time, huh—"

"One word and you're not making it out alive, now hush and listen," you glared at him, effectively shutting him up but failed at wiping off his smug smile.

From the other side of the door, you heard shuffling and the voice of Sam Clerck. "But John—"

Jay's eyes widened, and you knew what he meant, there was a name.

"—the amount of killing is making this whole thing suspicious to the mortals,"

"It's annoying that you're calling me 'John'," the latter spat.

"It's not my fault that's the name of the original bodies. Fine, Elijah, don't you think we should rest on the killings for the moment,"

"What? Elliot, here's no way we're doing that, look at the fortune we're making,"

"Mind you, we have a possible hunter captured in the office's dungeon, what are we doing with him? Oh, there's probably other hunters coming as well now that they've slowly caught onto us,"

"Brother, stop overthinking and fretting," Elijah, the presumed older brother, sighed. "We could use him as a sacrifice—"

You clamped a hand over Jay's mouth, knowing him too well that he would let out noises and maybe burst out the door, but there was no way you're letting him do either of those.

"Or just kill him. We've been treating him well with food, excluding the fact that there's no sunlight,"

"We'll see how it goes, underground or not, another killing is too risky,"

"Whatever,"

You heard the door click shut, the two brothers already entered their office. Jay licked your hand and you reacted at once, shooting him a disgusted expression and opening the door, a gush of fresh air filled your lungs and you're no longer pressed against Jay, hooray!

"You heard that? They're going to serve my brother up on a platter or just directly cook him into a meat skewer,"

You pushed Jay to move along, avoiding the risk of getting caught. "We know he's in the office now, and there's definitely a way to get him out, can you try being hopeful for once?"

"It's Hoon we're talking about, so no,"

"Look, Elijah and Elliot, they're the Vamson brothers,"

"Who?"

"They're the original owners of this hotel and they got executed from murder cases. Explains why they knew the dungeon and all,"

"What do we do now?"

"Not 'now', tomorrow," you grinned, a plan brewing in mind. "We're splitting them up,"

The day consisted of you and Jay running around as inconspicuous as you could manage. The plan was slowly forming over a glass of whiskey. Jay would be onto distracting 'Sam' while you get closer to 'John', getting him to bring you back to his office and free Sunghoon by locating the dungeon.

"Must you really flirt with him?" Jay grumbled as he sipped on his glass.

"Is it your turn to be jealous now?"

"Yeah," Jay nodded straightforwardly, catching you a little off guard. "Pains me seeing you flirt with someone other than me,"

You rolled your eyes, playing it off nonchalant and casual, but internally? Your heart was doing backflips. "It's not actual flirting anyway, you dramatic ass,"

He let out a small, humorous laugh. "I know," he hummed. "But I just don't like seeing others with my girl,"

"I don't belong to you, Jay," you raised your eyebrows, playing around with your glass, heartbeat gradually increasing.

"You've been mine since the day you let me touch you," he said almost so nonchalantly that it gave you a whiplash. His words were unexpected, and it certainly stirred something in you.

"You're insane," you scoffed, completely hiding the fact that you were secretly blushing.

He simply shrugged. "Anyway, I'd like to catch some air outside, you coming?"

"Will you be smoking?"

"I quit that shit a while ago,"

You smiled at that. "Good. But nah, you can go on without me, but come back once you're done, I don't feel safe,"

"Obviously, I'm not leaving you alone," Jay carrassed your arm slightly, a small reassuring look present in his gaze.

"Got your gun? Knife? Weapons—?"

"Chill, Y/N, I'm only going out for a while,"

"Knowing you, you're going to get into trouble,"

Jay winked, his usual playful grin on display. "You bet,"

To prove you absolutely right, he did.

Upon returning, you felt an odd shift in Jay's energy. As much as you were in denial, you knew your sixth sense was always, forever right, gut feelings never lie.

He started off normal, but then he got all … how could you put it? Sexy? Seducing? Sensual? Definitely not Park Jong Seong's normal way of seducing someone, knowing it very well especially since you were a victim to his seductions.

You played along, pretending stupid, and it gave you enough time to deduce that he was possessed. Demons that stormed the hotel got to him in the end and you had to be the one to clean the mess up? Unbelievable.

Now, here you were, in his lap back in your hotel room, making out. You heard that right.

His hands tugged your hair, yours wandered his body, lips moving passionately against one another, you had to remind yourself that this WASN'T him!

You broke the kiss, heaving slightly as you reached for the small flask on your bedside table, a plan already in your mind. "Gosh, let me take a sip, want some?"

Jay—or demon Jay—nodded at the flask in your hand with some interest. "What's in there?"

"Whiskey, your favourite," you lied cunningly through your teeth.

"I'll have some,"

You passed it to Jay, watching his every move, from him taking the flask, holding it up to his lips, to downing the contents into his mouth, then a loud scream broke out from him.

"Holy water," you clicked your tongue. "And you're so not Jay,"

You threw yourself away from him, backing away from the bed. Jay turned to you sharply, piercingly glaring at you, his eyes turned fully black, leaving no whites. Oh yeah, hundred percent possessed.

He tried charging at you, but he then hit an invisible barrier. No matter how much he lunged and punched, he was stuck, and never escaping.

"Devil's trap, whoops," it was a precaution you took, drawing a sigil trap under the bed that was designed specially to trap demons, and there was no way out unless the circle was broken. It was great luck you got the demon twisted around your finger to have him follow you into bed. "Now, what's your business? Why are you possessing him?"

"You don't want to continue doing what you're doing here," he seethed out.

"I've got someone to save,"

He cackled with a look of disdain. "You humans are so weak minded and hero wannabes. How about you save yourself and forget about the guy? You don't know who you're dealing with or what you're even doing,"

"Oh, I don't?" You pulled the bedside table's drawer open, your trusty notebook was tucked inside and you snatched it out, showing it gloriously. "Look at this!"

"A stupid little notebook? You're not scaring me,"

"Are you sure? What if I told you there were some verses in here? You know, those types of verses, the ones that can make you go away. What if I start reciting some verses?" You taunted, your innocent smile riled him further.

"Come on then," he poked, challenging you.

"Seriously? I'm giving you choices and time before I send you back to hell. I'm really kind,"

Jay gulped, despite all that, he remained a confident front and a cocky look. "Your stupid chantings won't work on me,"

"A low level demon like you telling me what I know and don't know? Please, save some talk and let me show you what I'm best at," you flipped open your notebook, following the usual ritual and started the latin incantations.

Jay stirred, yelling out and his body shuddered. As your chantings got louder and more aggressive, the demon from within seemed to be fighting to escape. Finally, with one last verse, Jay's mouth opened and a flight of black smoke escaped from within and dissolved back to, hopefully, hell.

"Fuck," you ran towards the bed as you saw his body going limp, getting there just in time for his body to fall into your arms heavily. "I got you, Jay, you're okay,"

"Huh?" His eyes were half opened, looking worse than a drunk.

"Get some rest, we'll talk about this tomorrow. You need it."

"I got possessed, then we made out, and you exorcised me?"

"That was about it,"

It was the next morning, room service thankfully available now and you were having breakfast in bed with Jay as you poured over the happenings of the crazy night. Of course, Jay was having difficulties swallowing his food as he had zero recollections whatsoever, blacking out the moment the demon entered his body.

"So … we made out?"

"Seriously? Is that the important part to you?"

"We never did for months and the demon got to do it with you? This is trippy and I'm salty," he huffed, chewing on his sunny side egg sadly. "Anyway, did the demon say anything?"

"Right, he did. Something about how we shouldn't be doing what we're doing now, like a warning I think,"

"Eh, typical demon bullshit, they always get into your minds and spit some mind boggling ass words to get you all worked up. It's nothing,"

You were unconvinced, crossing your arms nervously. "You don't actually think there's something wrong, right? Something bigger than we think?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he shrugged, uncertainty lingered in his words. "Either way, we have bigger problems. Tonight, the charity ball, saving Hoonie,"

"You're right."

Running around the streets looking for some gown to buy was harder than expected. Buying it rather than renting was a stupid choice, a dumb and expensive one. But what could you do? You're probably going to rip it up anyway. Not in that manner.

The day was soon coming to an end. Earlier on, the two of you made sure to have your bags packed and ready, dumping them into the car in advance. God knows what's happening after the event, all you knew was that you're probably not stepping foot back into the hotel room again.

"Are you done?" Jay shouted from the other room as you finished some final touch ups.

"Can you wait for a second? Jeez!"

You burst open the door, meeting Jay's gaze at once. He was dressed handsomely in a suit, a plain black suit that hugged his muscles and body in a perfect way as if it was tailored for him.

As for you, you were in a simple floor length black gown, one with two surprises: an open back and a thigh slit. You weren't a big fan but it is what it is. It was likely made out of some cheap silk and half assed production, but this happened to be your only option.

"Fucking hell," he whistled under his breath, his eyes swept your figure from top to bottom and back to the top again to lock his gaze with yours. "Wow. You look amazing, more than amazing actually,"

He took a step, and another, until he was directly in front of you, face to face. "Is it okay if I touch you?" He whispered under his breath, something flashing in those brown irises.

"Yeah,"

His hand slithered around your waist, tugging you forward into his chest, eyes widened as it caught you by surprise. Being this close to him had you thinking of yesterday. Despite the fact that he was possessed, it was physically still him, meaning you did kiss him, and God, he missed him and his lips.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Yesterday,"

"That demon got you hooked?"

"You're annoying. I mean, kissing you," you faltered towards the end, gradually getting flustered.

"Would you like to recreate that?" Jay jokingly leaned in and you pushed his face away, laughing slightly.

"We don't have the time to, idiot,"

Jay shook his head, a small smile adorned his pretty features. "After all this … maybe we should talk it out. About us. Just you and I,"

"Definitely," you nodded, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "We should leave too, it's time,"

"You're right," he sighed, obvious disappointment in his voice as he glanced down at his wristwatch. "Let's go," he slowly let his hold of you go, but his hand remained around your waist as you two walked side by side.

That cheeky bastard's hands gradually travelled lower and lower as you walked, teasing you until it reached your lower back. Your head snapped over to give him a questioning glance, to which he reciprocated with a shrug.

"Hands up—" you moved his hands from your lower back back to your waist, eyes glaring at him, "—here,"

"You weren't complaining the last time we fucked,"

"Over a year back,"

"What do you say we relive that tonight, huh?"

"You're such a sleazebag. Oh, manwhore, and what else?"

"Dickhead, handsome jerk,"

"Okay, whatever you say, dickhead handsome jerk," you snickered sarcastically before dragging him towards the main area, making sure to not trip over your gown.

The hotel was bustling with guests from all over the world, being the busiest it has been as staff ran around frantically. The night has yet to begin and people were already gambling their minds off while drinking expensive champagne served by frantic servers.

You looked around, noticing Sam, or Elliot in actuality, conversing with someone, his brother was nowhere in sight … yet.

"Distract him, okay?" You whispered hastily into Jay's ears as you saw the man waving over at you two, possibly coming over once he's done with the guy he's talking to. "I'll try to be within hindsight, but listen to me, if I'm not back by the two hour mark, you come to the office and find me. You have the gun, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Good. I'm going to try and get Sunghoon out, but I've only got so much,"

"I'll be there, okay? I won't leave you,"

You nodded at his words, feeling his hand squeeze your arm tightly. The anxiety was pushing past its limits and you were praying everything to run your way. The moment Sam moved over to you and Jay, you exchanged friendly greetings and pretended to be interested in whatever he's trying to yap about. As he did so, Jay slowly whisked him away, luring him for a talk over some drinks. One thing Jay's excellent at was talking, and you sure hoped his charms were enough to keep the little brother at bay.

After some more digging, you found out John, aka Elijah, mostly hung around the bar area and observed his customers. Interesting man. Lo and behold, the theories were right and he was actually there, all alone, an easy target.

"Not here to gamble?" You slid by his side casually, sitting in an empty seat just a fraction of a distance in between.

"I like to sit and observe a little," he hummed, taking a sip out of his glass. "And you are?"

"Stacy Williams,"

"I'm John Clerk,"

Ironic that you two were actually lying about yourselves to each other.

"Owner of this place I believe?"

"It's true," he raised his glass up, quirking his eyebrows.

"Beautiful casino and hotel, by the way," you said sweetly, putting on your most convincing smile.

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly. Not much of a conversationalist, huh? Maybe this was your time to strike.

"Mr Clerk, I'm sorry but is there any way I can get a short rest around here? I'm feeling a little light headed and I just wish to lie down for a while,"

The man before you remained stoic, but you could tell he was internally scrambling for ideas in his mind, and you certainly didn't miss the way he gulped. To add extra pressure onto him, you started staring at him expectantly.

"Well—uhm—there's a sofa in my office," he suggested, though reluctantly.

"That'll be great if you don't mind, I'm sorry for the trouble,"

"No worries, Miss Williams," he assured. "I'll lead you there," he got off his seat and slowly took the lead, you following behind. As you gradually made your out of the vicinity, you spotted Jay, giving him a small nod before disappearing from his sight entirely.

He took the same path you and Jay had done during the time you two snuck around the demon brothers office, except this time, you would be entering into the office.

"Here you go, the sofa's all yours," he opened the door for you, leading you into his large office and pointed at the black coloured sofa in the corner. For a murderous, plotting demon, you didn't expect him or his interior to be so simple and minimal. "Would you like anything else?"

"A drink, maybe water or something refreshing will do,"

He nodded before closing the door shut, and you could tell he was worried about leaving you alone. Not because it's dangerous for you to be by yourself, but instead, he's paranoid about his typical demon doings and that dungeon.

Speaking of the dungeon, you had no idea where it was. Upon arriving, you checked for surveillance cameras, there were none thankfully, as for the dungeon you noticed nothing, even after squinting and looking around the room for some dodgy button. What a cunning demon! Time was ticking and you were racing against time.

"Wait…" you read about some theories about the whereabouts of the entrance to the dungeon, so now, you finally had the chance to test it out.

Locking the door and making up a quick lie was easy. But searching for some clues around the room wasn't. It got to a frustrating point of testing out the stupid theories where you ended up failing. There was one more for the test: the bookshelves.

Stories mentioned John being a complete book nerd, his belongings would be chucked in between books and somewhere behind the shelves, it would totally make sense the bookshelves in his office to have some hidden functions. You tried pushing it, punching it, but it wouldn't budge.

Sighing in almost defeat, you found yourself eyeing the books instead, judging the titles and spotting an odd one, reaching out for a grab. That was when everything changed. A small pull had triggered the book shelf to raise itself off of the ground and into the wall, revealing stairs going underground. Bingo.

You defied the laws of horror movies by going down the dark stairway, quietly calling out for any signs of life. Once you descended the remaining steps, you were met with dimly lit torches, chains hanging on the wall. This did look very anciently built, replicating those tacky dungeons in movies.

It was a large underground cave, so it wasn't hard to spot Sunghoon sitting in one corner, his hand chained to the wall and he himself had dozed off.

You made your way there, your heels clicking against the hard floor but Sunghoon never woke from it. You kneeled beside him, noticing the fatigue in his expressions, looking overly worn out, attire soiled and seemingly hurt.

"Sunghoon!" You hissed, shaking him awake. There's no way you're attempting to carry him out while he's unconscious.

"Huh—what—who—" he slowly blinked, startled at the unfamiliar voice. His gaze was on you, his eyes blinking rapidly to rid of the haziness, then he finally registered that it was you talking. "Wait—Y/N?"

"You got that right. Is there a key around here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"We have no time for that! Is there a key or not?" You hissed, trying to strain your ears in order to determine if he's returned or not. Hopefully the guests were keeping him busy in the meantime.

"There is, it's somewhere in the small cupboard there," he nodded over at said cupboard that you hadn't noticed.

Say less, you practically jumped to your feet and bolted over to the small cupboard, pulled it open and the key was there. Tada! It was foolish that it was out in the open like that, but considering the fact they probably didn't expect anyone else to come down here, it was pretty valid.

Being the more thorough person you were, you checked the remaining drawers in case of any dangerous objects. Instead, you found some weapons here and there, so you tossed some over to Sunghoon before unlocking his chain. He winced the moment his wrist found freedom, rubbing it sorely. But there's not enough time, you need him out.

"Park, listen close to me," you tucked some of the knives into the garter belt around your thigh, handing Sunghoon one of the guns found in the drawer. "Your brother is here—"

"Jay?"

"Yes, now hush and actually listen, alright? The demon that captured you is coming back soon, and you're escaping before he does,"

"What about you?"

"I'll hold out as long as I can. Once you find Jay, tell him to come 'fetch' me or whatever excuse he could form. If shit goes sour, I don't think I can handle him alone,"

Sunghoon nodded as he took your words in carefully. There was limited time left, you needed to get out of the dungeon and shut it.

You helped Sunghoon up and had him lean his weight into you as you guided him up the stairs. To say you were struggling and having breathing difficulties was an understatement. He better treat you to some good food for saving his ass after this.

He fell onto the sofa you were resting on earlier as you scrambled to shut the entrance by pushing the book back in. The entrance to the dungeon closed to a shut, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Now that you got Sunghoon out, there's bigger problems to face.

"Are you able to walk?"

Sunghoon grunted, stretching and massaging his legs. "I can … I think,"

"You think?" His words weren't completely reassuring.

"I'll manage," he gritted out, but his gaze softened. "I'm only worried about you,"

"You don't think I can handle him?"

"No, not that. You're an amazing hunter, of course, but this guy—demon—he's not some low ranking one. Not some simple exorcism can cast him back to hell,"

"I know, that's why Jay's got the gun,"

"He brought the colt along?"

The colt wasn't just a normal revolver, it was the supernatural revolver. Built to kill everything and anything. No supernatural beings were able to escape the wrath of the bullet. Who else better to use it on than some powerful demons?

"He's crazy," Sunghoon breathed out after you nodded as a response to his question.

"He's just being careful. Plus, we do need it now anyway,"

Sunghoon blinked, leaning back a little with an odd expression, his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh wow, did you guys…?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you have this look and I figured something … sparked between you and him again,"

You pressed your lips into a flat line, blinking wordlessly at him. Even he could tell you and Jay were having something?

"Let's talk about this later," you patted his shoulder, nodding towards the door. "You should definitely leave now,"

Knock knock.

"Miss Williams? Are you alright? Why is the door locked?"

You met Sunghoon's gaze, and the one thing you've managed to understand in his stare was 'we're fucked'.

"I'm—I'm not doing well,"

"What's happened? Let me in,"

"No!" You bursted out, which sounded worse than expected. "I mean, no, I got m–my period, and I'm embarrassed to come out,"

"Oh," the man on the other side of the door seemed shocked to say the least. "I'll go get you some pads, Miss Williams,"

"Thank you,"

Pressing your ears onto the door, you heard his footsteps getting further away, finally able to let out the breath you've been holding in for too long. You turned to Sunghoon, grabbing his arm.

"You know, for a demon, he's actually quite a gentleman,"

"Keeping me in his stupid dusty dungeon surely isn't a gentleman's move," he said bitterly as he got up, limping slightly. "You'll be okay, right?"

"No promises,"

"I'll be quick, I'm going to get Jay here. You saved my ass, I'm making sure I save yours," he placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

"I trust you," you patted his hand. "Now, go,"

Sunghoon nodded, though quite reluctantly leaving as he didn't wish to have you all alone in a demon's threshold. You exchanged a brief look with him before he slipped out of the door completely, and you prayed he made it out successfully without any complications in between.

Minutes later, you heard knocks on the door once again, which meant John was back. Bracing yourself, you turned the door open, revealing him and some pads in his hands. "Here,"

"Thanks, I'll—uh—go to the restroom,"

"You're not actually on your period, are you?" His words cut like knives, sharp and certain.

"Are you doubting my knowledge of my own body?"

"No, I'm not," he said flatly, shutting the door behind him and stepping closer. "One thing I know for sure is that you're not welcomed here … hunter," in one blink, his eyes turned black entirely, just like the time Jay was possessed.

"I'm only here for a shortstop, nothing else … Elijah," you kept your cool on the outside, but internally? You were fighting the horrors. He seemed surprised that you mentioned his actual name, but that didn't bother him.

"Oh yeah? Tell your buddies to stop coming after me,"

"How about you stop killing people?"

Your retaliation didn't help your case as it only agitated him. With a swift move of a hand, he had you pushed to the bookshelves, pinning you on there with an invisible force. No matter how you tried resisting it, you couldn't break free from the forceful hold.

"You won't understand. You humans don't," he seethed out, getting closer and closer. "You would be a great sacrifice as well,"

"Fuck you,"

Wrong choices of words. A force was wrapped around your throat and in the next second, it was constricting. Dying from getting choked by a demon wasn't on your list of dumb ways to die.

You swore you were seeing the lights of the afterlife until something intervened. Gunshots sounded suddenly, loud and clear and almost everywhere, a mix of shouts rang through. Chaos was happening.

John, or Elijah, heard the commotion outside and was taken off guard from it, his hold loosening and you were able to breathe just a little bit more. His head turned back to you, then to the door, seemingly conflicted at the two troubles on hand.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "For fuck's sake," he released his hold on you, resulting in you dropping to the ground in coughing fits. You take it back about him being a gentleman. "You're so dead when I come back,"

You could only glare at him and his figure as he exited through the door, but then you heard the sound of a click. No, no, no. You rushed to the door, trying to yank it open, but to your worst fears, he actually locked the door.

Jay was coming to find you, right? Doubts continuously fill your mind against your will. It pained you knowing you're stuck here all helpless, unaware whether Jay and Sunghoon were doing well or not. You could only hope for the best and not the worst.

What seemed like forever was you being trapped in this office. The books on the shelves didn't entertain you, the pictures of the actual Sam only made you sad knowing his body was being possessed by a demon. All in all, you were rotting in here.

That was until you heard grunts and some gunshots not far away, heavy footsteps thudding down the corridor. Shouts rang through the empty and quiet surroundings, your heart thrashing wildly against your chest in anxiety. There was no mistake in what you heard next. It was your name, your name was yelled.

"Y/N!" Jay's voice was hoarse as he called for you over and over.

"Jay?" You pounded on the door, shaking the doorknob that wouldn't budge.

The footsteps got closer and his voice got nearer until he was eventually standing directly on the other side of the door. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"I am," you nearly sobbed, wanting to break free and escape the office. "Jay, the door's locked,"

"You've got to be kidding me. I killed that fucker and never asked for the keys," Jay pounded at the door in irritation. "Y/N, step away, I'm going to break this fucking door down,"

You got away from the door, backing away to your previous spot at the bookshelves and crouching down. After a split second, you heard a gunshot, the doorknob rattled and loosened, but that didn't take the cake. Jay grunted, having to go for busting down the door instead.

A few kicks to the door had loosened the handles, you could hear Jay putting his whole effort into busting down the door with his kicks and the way he threw his body to the door. It was almost a while before he finally knocked the door down completely, revealing a overly worn out Jay.

He was injured, cuts on his face, arm bleeding and his fancy suit torn at some places. Despite all that, his eyes lit up the moment they landed on your figure crouched by the bookshelves. He rushed over with speed that resembled the Flash, immediately dropping down to his knees to match your position.

"Are you alright? You're not hurt right?" His hands were on your shoulder, turning you slightly to check for any visible changes.

You didn't say anything yet, just feeling glad that he's here now, safe and sound. Almost instinctively, your arms reached out and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"I got you, I'm here now, nothing's going to hurt you," Jay caressed the back of your head, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

"I'm glad you're fine too," you slowly pulled away after a few moments, your hands cupping his cheek. "You do look really busted though,"

He scoffed, lips gradually stretched into a grin. "You'll be the one patching me up later,"

"What happened out there?"

"I killed them," he said hoarsely, his touch never leaving yours. "Little brother Elliot attacked me first after he revealed himself, then everyone ran away. I took my chance and blasted him. Sunghoon showed up not long after and that's when Elijah appeared. We managed to kill him, sent their souls back to hell,"

"That's great,"

"Did he … do anything out of line?"

"Other than choking me and saying he'll kill me? Not really,"

"He's a fucking bastard," Jay cursed, wincing slightly from the cut on his lips.

"Should we leave? The police is arriving soon, no?" You slowly got up, supporting Jay as well.

"We really should. I don't need the police on my ass again,"

"Hey guys—" Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, sweating and heaving, but once he saw the two of you together, hands around each other, his face morphed into a teasing smirk. "Am I interupting?"

You and Jay simultaneously let out a cough, facing away from one another.

"Are the polices on their way?"

"They are," Sunghoon replied hastily, ushering you two to come forward and leave the office. "I've cleaned our traces as much as I could. Now, we should just leave while people are hiding,"

"Did the bodies make it? The original Sam and John," you asked.

"No," the Park brothers answered in unison, and the three of you continued your way to the carpark in silence. It was saddening to hear that the bodies of Sam and John didn't make it, the dull atmosphere ended up befalling between you all.

"So," Jay started once you were all in the car, revving his car to a start. "Want some celebratory burgers along the way?"

"Say less."

"Ouch,"

After a long gruelling trip back to your house, Sunghoon ended up passing out in the guest room's bed, leaving you and Jay alone in the middle of your living room, where you were cleaning his injury wounds.

"I'm trying to be as gentle as I can," Your eyes flickered, wrapping his arm up and cleaning some tiny wounds. "Are you leaving after this? Go on your journey wherever supernatural cases appear like always?"

"I am," Jay said, and somewhere internally, you felt your soul crush. "But I'm staying a little longer here,"

"What?" Your mouth almost fell to the ground from the shock, unintentionally applying more pressure to the wound which made Jay wince, and you uttered a small apology, an unknowing smile forming on your lips. "You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You know how I said I wanted to have a talk after we got back, so here we are. I know our job is … complicated, but my feelings for you never changed over the years. It just took me a shit long time to come to my senses," Jay took a breath in.

"I know I've hurt you before, and I'm going to have to gain your trust back first. But I hope you'll give me a chance, and let me bring you out on a date or two over these few days,"

"You're giving 'us' a shot?"

"I am,"

You were giddy to say the least, resisting the urge to break into the biggest, lovesick smile. "I'd really love to go out on that date with you,"

"Really?" Jay seemed like he couldn't believe you actually would agree, the evident shock in his face made you laugh.

"Yes, really, you idiot. Are you going to kiss me or something now?"

"I definitely am,"

Jay's calloused fingers wrapped around your chin softly, pulling you in and crashed his lips against yours. It wasn't your first time kissing him, but this was different. Desperation, endless pining that was bottled over the years finally burst and welled over, his lips moved against yours with so much fever and intensity, it had you going insane.

Jay pulled you into his lap, your arms falling over his shoulders for support while his hand travelled from your neck to your cheek before making its way into your hair. You could feel him smirking against your lips, his other hand moving down to your waist to tug you closer to his chest, having you totally pressed up against him.

"J–Jay," before he could take it to another level, you registered that it was your living room, and Sunghoon was in the house as well, which meant the possibility of him walking in was there. "Should we move it into … the room instead?"

Jay knew what you meant, his gaze changing almost instantly, something told you that you were in for it tonight. "Oh you're nasty," he suddenly carried you in bridal style, making you yelp out in surprise and scrambling for support.

The night was going to be long, but it didn't matter anymore now that you've got to have him for a few days and nights all to yourself. Killing supernatural beings was a headache, an ill fated string tied to you, but in the end, you couldn't deny it had brought you and Jay together again. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise after all.

taglist: @aerxz @asyleums @dimplewonie @yizhoutv

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a-romantics-guide-to-life · 25 days

Text

⋆ ₊☽˚𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼˚☾₊ ⋆

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : you and coryo had gone through hell and back, you've been together and far apart yet you could never find the courage to say how you truly feel for him. so, you wrote them into letter form, but you never sent them. and so what happens when one mr. snow finds each and every letter only to realize that it's too late?

𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : written in letter form from the readers perspective, talks of jealousy and sad feelings, r is definitely from the capitol

𝓪/𝓷 : tbh, i have SO many other things i should be writing but this idea popped into my head and so i've been writing it when i have time in between classes and other stuff so here ya go, hope you enjoy!

𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽

⋆ ₊ ☽ ·˚𓍲⋆ 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮: 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓸𝓻 ⋆𓍲˚· ☾ ₊ ⋆

Dearest Coryo,

Congratulations on making the top twenty! I am so proud of you darling!

After everything that we’ve been through, you deserve it. I am sure that the Plinth Prize will find its way home into your hands so you can pay off your family's debts and so you can finally take me out on a proper date.

I know that I will be there in person to congratulate you at the reaping ceremony but I just wanted you to know that no matter what, I will be cheering you on from the side lines.

You know, the first letter I ever wrote for you was way back when we were kids during the war, right?

Me and my family had just fled to our safe house in the mountains and I was wondering how you and your family were doing. Then of course, news of your fathers murder spread even into our small cabin in the middle of nowhere. Of course, my first instinct was to pull out parchment and a pen and just write, write, write.

And write, write, write I did. I somehow ended up writing 30 pages of parchment front and back recounting every single moment we had until that exact moment. From the first time we met at the tender age of three at a family dinner, to the first moment we played at the park together. Even now, I still remember the ache of my wrist after writing for nearly the entire afternoon. My mother even helped me bind the collection of letters into a book for you, do you remember that?

Or well, I suppose you don't see as I never sent the letters. Something in my chest just never let my hands grab the letters where they lay hidden in my room, underneath my bed. My heart never left those pages though, and as I write this letter I feel my heart once again pouring into every dotted i and crossed t.

I have no doubt that this letter too will never see the light of day just as many other letters I have written over the years have. It is quite the affair after I finish a letter. I feel as though I have accomplished something by immortalizing my feelings and memories into these written pages of paper.

Anyways, I love you and I am just so proud of you my dearest Coryo.

Love,

Your Biggest Admirer

Dearest Coryo,

I am so terribly sorry for you. My heart aches just knowing that you got so close to the Plinth prize only for Dean Highbottom to rip it out of your grasp and shred it into a million pieces right in front of your eyes.

And not to mention, the new mentorship you are expected to undertake, I mean do they not know who you are.

Coriolanus Snow, the brightest, most intelligent, most caring, and most loving student at the Academy, a school known for the rich snobby kids who pay their way up to the top.

You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are today, even your cousin worked so hard just to help propel you to where you are now darling.

I believe that it is an utter disgrace to the Academy name to have students such as ourselves, though one could argue you are from another world entirely compared to us plebeians, to mentor district scum. Not to mention, they think it will be a challenge for you to tame that wild Lucy Gray Baird.

Sure, you may get nervous but I know you will pull through. After all, Snow lands on top right?

Although, sometimes I wish that Snow would land on top of me. Oh to feel you hovering over me as you kiss me tenderly or passionately. To be honest I would take either of the two.

It is quite ridiculous, and embarrassing really, how gorgeous you are. I often find myself staring at you from across the room. Your deep blue eyes focused on the assignment or task at hand, sometimes your eyebrows would pull together when you are concentrating on calculations or deep in thought. Your nose would scrunch, adorably, and your lips would forma tight line when you stumble across a particularly hard problem.

But you never stop trying, it's why I love you. You’ve worked hard to reach where you are today, never bribing people with long winded promises or money. You always worked for what you got, even if you didn’t have to put in all your effort.

The fact of the matter is that you’re brilliant Coryo. Even when we were young, I remember there was a time when we were playing hide-and-seek and you just knew me too well and found me within five seconds.

And see that’s the thing, you remember. You always knew exactly what to say to make me laugh when I was crying, what to do when I was furious, and especially when I was sick, you’d bring me flowers and snacks while I lay too nauseous to even ask anyone for food. You truly know me too well.

Just like I know you. Or atleast, I like to think I know you better than say Clemensia. I know that you prefer tea over coffee in the mornings no matter how many espressos you drink with Felix. I know that you dislike strawberry shortcake no matter how many people rave about because you dislike cake. And I know that no matter how hard to try it, those bright blue eyes of yours can’t hide the hunger you have.

Most importantly though, I know you hunger. Money, power, glory. You thirst for it and I just know that through this mentorship you will be satiated and heavy with happiness after.

I will cheer you on, no matter what Coryo.

Love,

Your Biggest Admirer

Dearest Coryo,

It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?

You’ve been quite busy though so I understand. You’ve really taken into this mentorship, haven’t you?

Not that I blame you, everything you’ve ever wanted is right within your grasp as long as you prove to Dr.Gaul and co. that you are deserving of the Plinth prize. But, that also means that you have to do everything you can to also prove Dean Highbottom wrong.

Of course, that also means that we haven’t really been together in quite a while.

Not that I mean it in that way it’s just, I miss my best friend sometimes you know.

It’s been a blessing to have grown up with you. And to have found you after the war. You are after all, still my Coryo.

But of course, because I know why you’ve been busy so I guess I’ll let it slide as long as you let me treat you, and Tigris and your Grandma’am, out to dinner when you win that prize. Once you solidify your future with me.

Of course, not in that sense, but as in we can attend the University together and take this country by storm together.

I’ve noticed that you and Lucy Gray have been quite close. It was sweet of her to not leave you for dead after that awful rebel bombing.

Did you know I visited you in the hospital as soon as I heard?

You were laying there, skin all sickly and sticky. There were tubes and stuff hooked up into you. The doctors said that they would help you heal quicker so of course I thought nothing of it. And now you are better.

Me and Tigris never left your side in that hospital bed. Sometimes I wonder if you had heard all of my ramblings as I say there beside you in that dingy hospital.

I wonder if you felt my hand as I stoked it back and forth waiting, pleading really, for you to wake up.

I wonder if you felt my hands as I wiped the sweat off of your forehead and handsome face as I cried for you.

I wonder how it felt for you when you woke up and I wasn’t there. You see, Gaul and Highbottom had asked me to step in your place to soothe wild Lucy Gray before she performed on stage. I’d like to think it was because they both knew how close we are. Or perhaps they thought it proper torture to remind me just how much you needed this win and how willing they were to keep you from it.

Regardless, I still begged Lucy Gray to perform with a guitar from my family’s collection that had been requested by you.

And I’m glad that we had a common shared interest, you.

It may have been too much of a shared interest between you and her because I saw you two at the zoo tonight. I left before you two could notice me but the burning ache in my chest left a scar that wouldn’t heal. The way that you cradled her fear ridden face. The way that she tenderly took your hand as you wiped her tears away with your mother handkerchief.

Do you like her!??

But regardless you are my best friend and I just want you to be happy so I’ll pretend I never saw anything, promise.

Anything for you, right?

Anyways, the Games are tomorrow and I hope the odds are ever in your favor Coryo.

Love,

Your Biggest Admirer

Dearest Coryo,

You did it! That Plinth prize is as good as your darling. I'm so proud of you, I mean this is huge, it's your ticket into the presidency. Now, not even Dean Highbottom can catch you now. I hope you unleash your bitter fury onto all of those who doubted you and show them truly how Snow lands on top. Some people just seem to gossip as they please, talking about your too tight shoes and your tile buttons but none of them can take this win away from you Coryo.

Goodness, the way you lit up as you won. It kind of hurt though when you didn;t even spare me a second glance after you won. You and Tigris just looked so relieved and happy which made me happy for you. That all that mattered to me at that moment, you happiness. You smile that nearly lit up the entire Capitol. Of course, when you turned to look at me with those warm arms of yours open for me to jump into you, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.

And the feeling of you lifting me up, thanking me for supporting you through everything, kissing my cheek, I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you Coryo.

The feel of your lips against my cheek lit up a light in my chest that I thought I lost when I saw you and Lucy Gray in the zoo that night.

I’m just glad that now that the games are over, we can forget this Lucy Gray and cleanse ourselves of the Games. She can go back home to 12 a hero and a leader and we can continue our lives as they were.

Maybe we could even go out for a celebratory round of drinks, if you want.

Love,

Your Biggest Admirer

Dearest Coryo,

Where are you?

After your win it’s like you’ve just up and disappeared. Tigris has been talking about an eviction and losing the penthouse. I thought that the Plinth prize was yours?

Even Highbottom hasn’t said anything about your whereabouts, or well not to me anyway. But even Sejanus said he knows.

Coriolanus, I’m worried about you.

There have been rumors that you cheated in the Games and got exiled. I hope they aren’t true. I know you, you’d never cheat and destroy your chances at getting the money. Highbottom, no matter how much we hate him, had a point with making the punishment for cheating in the Games severe. There’s no way you would stake your entire family and your home for some District girl, right?

You hate cheaters yourself, remember that one time that we were playing a card game and I had hid some of the cards in my sleeve to ensure I won? You didn’t talk to me for three months. You hate how Clemensia always takes all the credit for your partner assignments when you know damn well that her wrist has never known ache like yours. You hate how Felix has never even had a meaningful conversation with any of the people at political dinners yet he had more support than you did amongst the rich and powerful. You even hate that Sejanus’ family had so much money from a war that we suffered from only to be inducted into the very society their people had been at odds with.

Sejanus told me that you had given Lucy Gray rat poison to kill the other tributes with. He even told me that you retrieved him from the arena, killing one of the tributes. And he said that you had been exiled to 8 to serve as a peacekeeper.

That can’t be true, it just can't, right?

I mean, even if you had been sent to 8, you would’ve at least told me right? And Tigris would’ve told me and your Grandma’am would’ve surely written to my father with the news.

Highbottom and Gaul must be mistaken right? There's just no way in my mind that a boy as smart and sweet as yourself would throw away everything for some District clown in a frilly dress. There is just no way that you would’ve manipulated Gaul into letting her into her lab just so you could sneak in and make sure Gaul’s hellish snakes wouldn’t sic Lucy Gray. There is just no way that you snuck her your mothers compact full of poison to use in the Games. And there is just no way that you killed a boy in the Arena saving Sejanus, there's just no way?

Right?

There is no way that you would leave me here to rot all by myself in the capitol without the one person who has ever mattered to me.

Regardless, whenever you come out of whichever hole you are hiding in, I’ll be here, waiting for you to come home.

Love,

Your Biggest Admirer

this one was admittedly not as sad and its not too long but i hope you enjoyed! stay tuned for pt 2!

#coriolanus snow #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #letters #sorry this was short #this series isnt too long so the next parts should be out soon!#the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #emi sanity

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