𝔉.

aint nothin' like the south | 21 | ♱

[fawnlynndoe]

𝐃𝐎𝐆 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

WRONG EXIT PART ONE

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦 (𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳) & 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘕𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘯𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺/𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: hii :3 I am so excited to finally like show y'all this, i got like reeaallyyy drunk one weekend and i wrote like 3 parts in one night lol. There is a doggie character in this but PLEASE don't worry - the dog will not be harmed, as a mommy to a kitty-cat i couldn't take it. enjoy lovelies!!

song inspo here ←

If there was one thing you hated, it was driving at night. Especially in the middle of nowhere Texas.

Unfortunately for you luck just hasn’t been on your side these past few years. Things weren’t always so bad but after dad died everything just sorta…tailspinned. When your now ex boyfriend offered to let you crash with him, it was sorta the only choice you had, given being alone felt unbearable. Sure, he was lazy. Sure, he spent your money like his own and somehow always had an excuse for why he couldn’t hold a job. But splitting rent was easier than paying it alone.

Then the yelling started. Then the holes in the wall. Then the apologies, and then one day he put his hands on you. A mere twenty-four hours ago you were at work and cooking dinner, now you were on the road, your entire life thrown into your trunk. By midnight, Texas was in your rearview mirror. And for the first time in years, you had no idea what the endpoint would be.

 

The only guiding light through this was Murphy, the mutt you adopted years ago. Despite being sixty-five pounds of drool and fur, he was your best friend. He’d been through it all with you. He was there through the screaming matches, through the nights of sleeping in your car, through every kick and punch.

Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night just to find the dog stretched across the bedroom floor, positioned between you and the bedroom door like a barricade, poor pup tried. 

He watched and he guarded. He reminded you that there was always one thing to love you without conditions. Which is hilarious, considering Murphy looked intimidating as hell. Most people saw the shepherd mix and crossed the street. 

You saw the puppy who wanted to be tucked into your sheets during the winter and didnt like to step on wet grass.

Driving from Odessa to Chicago was no small feat, and unfortunately for your, the trip had just begun. 

Just four hours ago you were throwing your entire life into the backseat. You hadn’t exactly left with a plan. Now you were somewhere in North Texas, inching closer to the Oklahoma border with a dog in the passenger seat and absolutely no idea what your life would look like in a week from now. 

It should have terrified you.

Maybe it did.

But every mile that appeared in your rearview felt a little lighter than the one before it. 

The radio crackled, filling the car with a burst of static before cutting out completely.. "Of course! Just what I was wanting to happen." You smacked the steering dashboard. Nothing. You smacked it again. Still nothing. Murphy picked his head up from the passenger seat, watching you with a tilted head, "Don't judge me.” His ears went up. With a sigh, you reached over and switched the radio off entirely. The silence was somehow worse. At least the static had been something. Now all you had was the steady hum of the engine, the occasional rattle from somewhere in the backseat, and your own thoughts were so determined to be the loudest thing in the car.

The road stretched endlessly ahead of you, surrounded by fields that seemed to go on forever. Darkness swallowed everything beyond your headlights, leaving nothing but empty highways and the occasional road sign to remind you civilization still existed. There wasn't another car in sight. Then you gas light came on. You just stared right at it, “No”. the little orange light remained illuminated. “No, no, no.” As if arguing with the machinery would somehow make it disappear. The dashboard, unfortunately, wasn’t interested in negotiations. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel. “Dont do this to me.” You let out a frustrated groan. You glanced back at the gas gauge and immediately regretted it.The needle was hanging on for dear life.You were running on fumes, blind optimism, and whatever prayers your grandmother had taught you as a kid."Okay," you muttered, sitting up a little straighter. "That's fine. Totally fine."

It was not fine.

Not even a little.

By the time you were able to make out what appeared to be a gas station, your engine was sputtering every few minutes and your gauge had been in the red for about 30 miles.Your road map wasn’t much help anymore either. Somewhere between Odessa and wherever the hell you were now, it had become covered in coffee stains, crumpled corners and muddy paw prints courtesy of Murphy. At this point, your best course of action was prayer. And maybe a little luck. 

The gas station slowly came into focus as you pulled off the highway. The building looked ancient, illuminated by a handful of flickering lights. You rolled into your pump and killed the engine. The sudden silence was almost deafening. For a moment, neither you or Murphy moved. Then you look across the car at him and he looks back, you sigh and grab your purse, “Okay Murph, please protect the car. Its a very important job” His tail thumps on the leather seat. Leaning over, you pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head before climbing out of the car.

You glanced toward the gas station and silently prayed there was something inside worth eating. You wandered aimlessly through the tiny gas station, dragging your feetin down each aisle as you searched for something that could remotely qualify as dinner. Your stomach growled, loudly. At this point Murphy’s dog food was starting to sound appetizing. With a sigh, you made your way over to the hot food station, if you can even call it that. The ancient roller grill spun beneath a heat lamp that looked older than you. A handful of hot dogs rotated endlessly while several corn dogs sat beside them, looking like they;d been in rotation since the Clinton administration. 

You stared at the selection. The selection stared back.

“Wow”

A hot dog or a corn dog. How nutritious. How balanced. How absolutely terrible. The hot dog won. Mostly because it looked less likely to kill you. You grabbed a pair of tongs and inspected it suspiciously. 

“Congratulations,” you mutter to yourself. “You’ve officially hit rock bottom.” The hot dog, thankfully, offered no opinion. You dropped it into a paper tray and headed toward the register.

“Hey, Hon. Whatcha lookin’ for?” the older gentlemen behind the counter looked up from a crossword puzzle, glasses perched low on his nose. You answered with a shrug. You set your hot dog on the counter, going back to the cold freezers for some water and a coke. “You don't happen to have any maps, do ya?” The man chuckled. “Maps? Now there’s somethin’ I haven’t heard somebody ask for in a while” He bent down behind the counter and rummaged through a drawer. “Course I got maps. Where ya headed?”

“Chicago, I think.” The cashier let out a low whistle. “Chicago?” you nodded in response, ”Thats’a long drive” Something about the old man reminded you of your dad. Maybe it was the concern in his voice, the deep set eyes or mauve the way he looked worried instead of judgmental. Either way it made your heart ache. “I'd be careful out there in I were you,” the man slid a folded road map across the counter.

“Well,” you said, lifting up the hem of your shirt, barely enough to show your small black handgun tucked into your waistband, “my daddy made sure his only child had some protection”. The cashier nodded approvingly, “Smart man.” The man behind the register shook his head in approval, “Total’s $6.12, girlie”. You handed over the cash, gathered your map, drinks and hot dog. As he handed over the receipt, his expression was soft. “Whatever’s waiting for you up there,” he said softly “ I hope it' s kinder than whatever you're leavin’ behind.”

For a moment the air felt thick. You had forgotten about your face, the bruise that's slowly taking over your left cheek. You just nodded. 

“Me too”

Instantly, the summer air hit you. Thick and swampy. The parking lot wasn't empty anymore, you in your accord, a black sleek car and a rusty van all gathered. You make your way to your accord, trying to balance the drinks while managing to fish your keys out of your pocket. The second the doors unlocked, a large head popped up from the passenger seat, "There's my good boy” You let Murphy out, letting him stretch his legs trusting him to still remain by you. 

You poured him some water in a makeshift bowl you made out of a saucepan you found while you were throwing all of your belongings into your car. You set the water down and scratched behind his ears, then focused your attention on the gas pump. The nozzle had set in place. You barely had started pumping when the side of the van slid open. Three men climbed out, the immediate sensation of your hair standing up and shoulders tensing puts your nervous system into over-drive. “Well look’it over here” You kept your eyes locked on the gas pump, why can't these things go faster? Another one of the men laughed, “You look a little far from home, ain’t ya?” You ignored them. You would rather die than give any men like them a lick of attention. Years of being a woman taught you a lot of things, one of them being that usually no response, is the best response. Apparently, they didn't appreciate that. 

They inched closer, so close you can smell the cigarettes and cheap beer leaking from their clothes. The one closest to you narrowed his eyes at you “Jesus.” You stiffened, Murphy attending your side, eyes locked on all three men. He pointed at your face, “What the hell got ahold of you?” 

Instinctively, your hand traced your cheek. The bruises had faded from the angry fist print to a bruise beginning to form. Your left cheek was already swollen, you can feel heat radiating on the side. The question alone made your stomach turn, not because of them asking but from how interested they seemed.

You dropped your hand, “Mind your fuckin’ business.” The first man held up his hands. “Sorry lady, just askin’” you cross your arms, leaning on your car. “Then stop.”

For a split second you recognized his facial expression, you learned it long ago, the kind when a man wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted. “Feisty bitch.” he muttered. Another one laughed, “maybe thats how she got the black eye.”

Murphy jumped up from sitting onto all four paws, a low growl penetrated from his chest. The men all shifted their gaze to him “Aw thats cute” and the three men laughed, “Damn dog thinks its so scary.”

You shift your weight in your heels, “I would be careful y’know.” Your grip on the gas handle gets tighter and tighter. “My dog bites.” You said evenly, trying to be unaffected.  Murph’s ears go flat, another deeper, more threatening growl rumbled. The tallest man took a step towards the car, immediately Murphy lunged at him, he would have bit the poor man if he wasn't so glued to your hip. Dog would never leave your side. “Jesus Christ” all three men take a few steps back.

"Yeah," you said dryly. “I told you he bites.” The tallest man, who had previously tried to take a step towards you twitched his head, “you mouthy fuckin’ female.” your stomach twisted, you hated that sentence, that tone, the cocky-ness. All of it just reminded you of the horror movie you just ran from. “Why are you alone anyways? Pretty thing like you, with nobody to watch you.” he licks his lips. As if being alone pumping gas was some kind of invitation.

You looked away to the gas pump, focusing solely on the numbers climbing up. Almost done, almost at a full tank. Then you can get the hell out of here. 

“She’s not alone.” the voice came from somewhere beside you, all three of those men turned around, facing the accusation.You looked between the gas pump and the trio to see the black car you’d taken note of earlier. Two men were standing outside of it now.

One was tall, really freakishly tall, shaggy flat hair that pressed down to his brow. He held a bottle of water in one hand and was staring daggers through each of the men in front of you, thoroughly unimpressed.

The other one, leaning so casually against the drivers side door, blondish hair and green eyes sporting a leather jacket. He was relaxed, like he couldn’t care less about this situation at all.

“Murphy, get.” 

You swing the driver's side door open, and Murphy immediately obeyed, assuming his position in the front seat. The second he was settled, the dog planted himself behind the wheel, ears pinned and teeth bared through the window. The tallest man scoffed, finally taking a step back from your car. His attention shifted past you and toward the two strangers standing near the black impala. “And who the hell are you?” he asked.

“Sam.” the taller one answered, so matter of fact, so simple. 

The men looked between themselves, “yeah, and what about you?” chin gesturing to the driver.

“Dean.” The driver said, smiling. 

Something about the way he said it made it sound like you were supposed to know him instead of complete strangers standing in a gas station parking lot.. Judging by the confused look on the other man's face, y'all were total strangers. Dean whistled dramatically, “Yeesh, alright i think it's pretty obvious our friend here wants nothin’ to with y’all. Now go.”

His green eyes flickered towards you for a second, just long enough for your spine to be on fire. He looked back at the trio. 

He saw it, the bruises. The bright lights above the gas pumps were definitely not doing your face any favors.

“I think y'all should do everyone a favor and get back in your van.” He dipped his head and adjusted his stance on the car, standing up fully.

“Or what?”

Dean’s smile sharpened, not enough to be threatening but enough to make you think it wouldn’t be a hard switch to turn on. Dean tilted his head towards your car. Murphy immediately lets out a string of barks, deep and throaty. “Or he gets a chance to properly introduce himself.” Murphy punctuated that statement with a bark that echoed in the lot. The trio of men lingered before finally backing off, “Whatever” the tallest one muttered. Dean nodded,”good choice.”

The van doors slammed shut one after another, the engine roaring to life as the vehicle pulled out of the station. You didn't realize just how tense you had gotten until those particular taillights disappeared down the highway. The parking lot fell into silence again, Murphy let out a grumble as he made himself comfortable in the passenger seat. 

“Y’know that dog thinks he just saved your life.” Dean chuckled. You spin towards him. Dean had moved closer to you, sliding his hands into his leather jacket. Somehow relaxed, not a single indicator of being fresh out of a confrontation. “He did save my life,” you smile. Dean just raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips together. “No, I'm pretty sure all he did was yell.”

“Suprised a man like you doesn't know intimidation is a skill.” Your head sits cocked to the side.  The gas pump clicked, signaling your tank was finally full. A filthy grin spread on his face, “Trust me, sweetheart, I know.” Sam groaned from across the car, rolling his eyes “Here we go.”

You couldn't help the laugh that slipped but looking down at the total of your gas bill you winced, forty-two dollars. Bye-Bye the rest of your gas budget. With a sigh, you face back to Dean and Sam. “Are you really driving all the way to Chicago?” Dean asked, watching you. Eyebrows raised “How’d you know that?” 

“Cashier talks.” 

You groaned, “Yeah, of course he does.” Dean grins even wider, "that's one hell of a drive,” he walks his way around to you, closing the distance between yall, “You're not driving alone, are you?” You nodded. His expression changed for a slight moment, a short flash of concern. But replaced quickly just as soon as it appeared. “That’s one hell of a drive.” Sam shifted his weight and offered a small smile, first time the kid looked at you in the eyes, “yeah, tell me about it.” Sam gestured towards Murphy. “Well uh, least you got him.” 

You shook your head.”Yeah” you said smiling looking over your shoulder at your boy. “Hes not exactly incognito.” Dean laughed and flashed his teeth. You could tell what kind of man he was, a charmer. A man used to getting everything he wants handed to him. Something about these boys seemed dangerous. 

As you tossed your map onto the dash, you noticed out of the corner of your eye the men standing up straight. Sam’s phone was ringing. Sam glanced at the small screen before passing a look to Dean.

Someone serious must have called. Dean sighed, “Damn it,” Neither one of the two looked amused. Whatever they had going on clearly wasn’t something they shared with strangers, so when you looked back, Dean was already climbing into the drivers side but he paused. “Well, Chicago.” You frowned. “My name isn’t Chicago.” Dean just smirked. “I think it suits you.”

Before you could stand any sort of protest, he slipped into the car. Seconds later the car's engine screamed alive, Sam gave you a small wave and a smile before climbing into the passenger seat before peeling out of the station and disappearing onto the highway. 

Only when the headlights became faint little twinkles did you climb into your Accord. Murphy immediately shoved his head onto the arm rest. You gave him a big pat on the butt and started your engine. You looked toward the empty highway.

As you drive, you relax. The pain of your cheek and eye throbbed. The warmth of the bruise stretching across your face. 

Thats all you could feel as you passed through the deserted highway. You adjusted your grip on the wheel. Just twenty-four hours ago, you were in your apartment. You were coming home from work. Murphy was waiting by the door. You knew every pothole, every streetlight, every short cut. Now, that was all in your rearview mirror.

Just keep driving.

The words repeated in your brain like a prayer.

Just keep driving. 

You had your plan: Chicago, apartment, fresh start. That was all you needed. A city where nobody knew you. An apartment where nobody could hurt you. A life without living on egg-shells. The bruise on your face throbbed. The bruises hidden beneath your clothes hurt worse. 

You swallowed hard. 

No. You couldn't do this. 

The second your mind drifts back to him, back to your ex, you immediately try to show those thoughts away. You weren’ t doing this tonight, especially when you're driving at 85 miles per hour on the darkest stretch of highway. You’d spent enough nights crying over him. Enough nights curled up in bed wondering why everything hurt so much. Enough nights staring at the ceiling trying to convince yourself that he really didn’t mean to hit you, that he does love you, and somehow he would be different tomorrow.  

Just keep driving. 

Everything hurts. Your back hurts, your neck hurts, and your wallet definitely hurts. Two days after you left Texas, you were beginning to understand the deep hatred people have for road trips.And if you had to eat one more gas station hot dog, you were fairly certain it would send you into the ER. 

Above you the motel sign flickered overhead as you pulled into the parking lot. 

VACANCY!

One of the letters buzzed more aggressively than the others, threatening to give up at any moment. The perfect establishment a woman traveling alone should be staying in! “Oh, don't look at me like that,” Murphy glanced up from the passenger seat.”You don't get an opinion. You didn't have to spend forty-three dollars on gas today.” His tail thumped against the seat.

The motel itself wasn’t better than the sign. A long row of identical doors stretched across the building, each one painted a faded shade of blue. The parking lot was half empty, illuminated by the buzzing yellow lights. This whole place looked sick but still, a bed and shower. Standards were rock bottom. 

Twenty minutes later, your standing inside room fourteen. Murphy immediately claiming the bed nearest the window, the entire bed. The oversized shepherd mix spun in three circles before going onto his back. “Thats my bed.” Murphy stops, turning over to look at you, tail wagging. “Move” you pointed towards the second bed, “That one is literally empty.” Murphy just rested his head on his paws. Conversation over.

Somehow the motel room looked exactly how you;d expected, the floral comforters, questionable artwork, a television that only works on two of the channels. Home sweet home.

After grabbing some clothes and dog food from the car, you were finally able to shower. The motel bathroom wasnt much to look at, cracked tiles and a mirror with a weird ring of brown around it. For twenty glorious minutes, you stood beneath the steaming water and let it wash away two days worth of road grime, sweat and exhaustion.

Your eyes drifted toward the mirror.

The bruising on your cheek had started to fade-ish. Yellow, purple, and green stretched across the left side of your face like someone had taken a paintbrush to your skin. The swelling had gone down some, but it was still there. Still visible, still a reminder. 

You looked away, putting your oversized hoodie and sleep shorts before stepping back into the motel room. Murphy was already waiting by the door. The second he saw you his tail was thumping against the carpet. You huffed, “Fine.”

Ten minutes go by and you found yourself wandering across the motel parking lot while Murphy sniffed every square inch of grass he could find.

The motel wasn't exactly bustling with energy, a few scattered cars, a flickering neon sign and the sounds of a television from someone's window. You shoved your hands deeper into your hoodie pocket, then froze.

A black car sat parked three doors down. You stared at it. The longer you looked at it the more familiar it felt. Black paint, chrome and a long body. 

“What the hell?” Murphy lifted his head while you stood and stared at the car ,then the motel, then the car again. "Looks familiar don'it?"

@ashlizabeth - hope you enjoy!! part two is coming sooner than you think!! *wink wink nudge nudge*

[fawnlynndoe]

bf!frank on your birthday!

𑣲 frank who doesn't even ask what you wanted for your birthday, that book you inspected for two seconds? your favorite candy? all wrapped for you. he'd spent the two weeks before preparing for this event, collecting little things you've been looking at for too long when window shopping.

𑣲 frank who you would find in the kitchen with coffee and a cupcake, slightly smushed from his lack of grace getting it home to you.

𑣲 frank who doesn't even ask what you wanted for your birthday, that book you inspected for two seconds? your favorite candy? all wrapped for you. he'd spent the two weeks before preparing for this event, collecting little things you've been looking at for too long when window shopping.

𑣲 frank would disappear for a few hours, going to every store imaginable just so he can get the balloons in the exact shade of your favorite color, just to see you smile.

𑣲 he would make sure nobody upsets you on your birthday, he would take it a little too personally. a car honking while you cross the street, a friend didn't call, a rude cashier, a car who honks at you - his demeanor would change instantly, gone was your sweet boyfriend, in comes in the punisher. His jaw would go tight, his eyes would lock onto the perpetrator, he almost would get violent but is always swept back by you're tugging on his arm, "frankie, i promise it's okay."

𑣲 later that night would be intimate, not sexually however, when yall sit together on the fire escape or on top of the van, he's lost in thought. He just sits there, watching you eat cake, finally he would say real quietly, "Didn't think i'd get to t'see you have anotha one." you'd drop the cake slice next to you and pull him close, "you'll make it to the next one, frankie"

HELP!!! I CAN'T GET FRANK OUT OF MY HEAD, HELP ME!!!

[fawnlynndoe]

ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ᴇxɪᴛ 𓆩♱𓆪 ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ

Summary: You had one plan, get the hell out and go. unfortunately, demons and monsters don't spare anyone.

“Sweetheart, you shoulda’ kept drivin’.”

“I took the wrong exit.”

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙚 (𝙗𝙮 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧), 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙣𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙮, 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩𝙮, 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙀𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨 → 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 → ?? || 𝙀𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙜𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 :3

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘏𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪!!! 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 (𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 & 12) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳….𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯! 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦!! :3

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐃𝐎𝐆 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎: …𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 6/13

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: …𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑆𝑂𝑂𝑁!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: …𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑆𝑂𝑂𝑁!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: …𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑆𝑂𝑂𝑁!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗: …𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑆𝑂𝑂𝑁!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: …𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑆𝑂𝑂𝑁!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: …𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑆𝑂𝑂𝑁!

#NeedDat

[fawnlynndoe]

fuck it! imma disappear into my cave and return with a delicious dean winchester fic

[fawnlynndoe]

𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐆𝐮𝐭𝐬 || 𝙎𝙃𝘼𝙉𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙇𝙎𝙃

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘍𝘐𝘙𝘚𝘛 𝘍𝘐𝘊 EVER 𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘓𝘖?! h𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 ever 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴…𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰! t𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥:) 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘵𝘸...𝘢𝘸𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥! 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘦…𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘴 WARNING:(MDNI 18+) 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗁 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍!!! (𝗏. 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 :3)

Life was finally starting to feel like it was going somewhere before everything fell apart. You were a senior in college working behind the bar on weekends stressing about finals and rent and all the little things that seemed important back then. You had friends, plans, a future. Now every moment felt like you were on edge ready to fight or run at any second.

The dead walked. People vanished overnight. Safety was a memory now. And somehow you ended up in the woods with a group of strangers camped out north of Atlanta trying to pretend like this was all normal.

These days you stuck close to Amy. The two of you washed clothes down by the quarry fished when supplies ran low and tried to keep each other distracted from the reality of what the world had become. Everyone else had their jobs, their own routines. Yours mostly involved trying not to stare at Shane.

It was a losing battle. Maybe it was because Shane carried himself like he knew what he was doing when nobody else did. Maybe it was the way people listened when he spoke. Maybe it was just because in a world that had gone completely crazy Shane was really attractive.

Whatever the reason, you couldn't help yourself. Shane noticed. He caught every glance that lingered long. Every time your eyes drifted to his hands while he cleaned a rifle. Every time you watched him split firewood sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Every time he looked over and found you already looking.

Sometimes you swore he did things on purpose. The smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth whenever he caught you staring didn't help. "Hey girl " he'd call, leaning back against a truck like he hadn't just watched you nearly walk into a tree. "Need a favor." Every single time your stomach would drop.

Because the worst part wasn't that Shane knew it was that he knew what it did to you.

After spending most of the evening cleaning fish you were covered in sweat, dirt and fish guts. You headed toward Dales RV hoping to find a washcloth or something to clean up with. Dale looked up from where he was tinkering with something near the door. "Hey sweetie what do you need?"

"Just a cloth, please." You held up your hands stained with fish blood and scales. Dales eyes widened immediately. "Yeah you stay there I'll grab one."

A moment later he emerged from the RV carrying two washcloths and a small bar of soap. "The last of what I've got." he said, pressing them into your hands. "Enjoy it" You smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Dale seriously." With your newfound treasure in hand you made your way down toward the river.

The evening air had finally started to cool the sounds of camp growing quieter behind you with every step. The water glimmered beneath the fading sunlight. You might well take a proper bath while you're at it. Lord knew you needed one.

You set the soap and cloth on a rock before crouching at the waters edge. The cool river water felt heavenly against your aching hands as you scrubbed away the grime from the day's work. Dirt, sweat and fish blood swirled away with the current disappearing downstream. For the time all day you felt relaxed. Just for a little.

"Well, well, well look at this slacker." You nearly jumped, whipping your head around at the sound of the drawl. A figure stepped out from the brush shoulders catching the last of the evening light. You didn't even need to see his face to know who it was. By now you had Shane Walsh memorized. Every inch of him.

"Yeah, whatever." you shot back rolling your eyes. "You're welcome for dinner by the way." You'd only spent half the day hauling in fish while everyone else handled their camp chores. Maybe you couldn't shoot a handgun worth a damn but you could outfish every single person in camp and everybody knew it. Shane chuckled. "Oh sweetheart, I was just messin' with you."

The nickname sent a shock down your spine and through your stomach. He started toward the riverbank closing the distance between you with that confidence of his. A bundle of clothes hung from one hand. You hated how aware you became whenever he got close. Hated how your pulse picked up. Hated how good he looked after a day all sweat-slick skin and rolled sleeves. Mostly you hated that he knew it.

"Looks like Dale finally took pity on you " Shane said, nodding toward the soap and washcloth sitting on the rock nearby. You glanced down at them. "Apparently I smelled bad to concern him." Shane laughed, low and warm. "Nah if you smelled that bad we'd have left you for the walkers already." 

"You're such an ass." 

"Mm " he smirked. "Yet here you are."

The words hung in the air between you. You opened your mouth to fire back some remark but nothing came out. Shane noticed, of course he did. A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took another step forward. Then another. Your back wasn't against anything. Suddenly it felt like there was nowhere to go.

"In case you didn't notice I was here first " you said, trying to sound annoyed. "What are you even doing over here? Don't you have anything to do?" His eyes flickered over your face. "I came here to get myself clean." he said. "What about you sweetheart, what are you doing sitting by the water all by yourself?" 

"Nothin'." you grumbled.

Shane laughed, almost inaudible but still patronizing. Trying to distract yourself from the situation you'd somehow found yourself in, you turned away. Dropped to the rivers edge. You scrubbed at your hands enough that the rough cloth burned against your skin. The cool water wasn't helping as much as it should have.

Shane let out a laugh behind you. "You keep on doin' that your gonna scrub your skin clean off." "I'd rather do that than listen to you." "Mhmm." You hated that sound that knowing sound. The one that said he could see through you. You focused harder on the washcloth trying to think about anything

"Fish scales " you muttered to yourself. "Dirt."The man standing three feet away. "You nervous?" Shane asked. "No."

"Another lie." You rolled your eyes. Glanced up and that was a big mistake. Shane was leaning against a tree arms crossed over his chest watching you with the patience of a man who knew he was winning.

"You got a high opinion of yourself don't you?" A grin tugged at his mouth. "Not usually." His eyes met yours. "Just when it comes to you." The breath caught in your throat before you could stop it. For a second neither of you said anything. The river rushed past and somewhere in the distance someone laughed back at camp. It felt far away.

Shane pushed off the tree slowly deliberately. Your pulse jumped. "You know " he said quietly stopping in front of you "most people get real good at avoiding things that scare them." You tilted your head. " Whats that supposed to mean?" His gaze dropped briefly to your mouth back to your eyes. "It means you've been looking at me for weeks." The words landed like a punch.

"You still ain't run." Your eyes widened. "Just because you know how to shoot better than me. Thats all. "you said, trying to sound calm. "You said you'd teach me. You haven't."

"What would change if I taught you?" Shane took another step forward another. The space between you was disappearing quickly it made your head spin. "I think you like having me around."

You rolled your eyes refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Oh please." A smirk tugged at his mouth.

"I think you love it." Your breath caught and there it was, that confidence, that arrogance that made you want to shove him into the river and kiss him at the time.

Before you could think of a response Shane's hands settled on your arms, solidly holding you in place just enough that looking away felt impossible. "Shane thats not—"

"Not what?" His voice was lower now rougher. "Not what all those stares are saying?" You. The river rushed behind you but it sounded distant and muted.

The only thing you could think about was Shane. "Doll," Shane said softly, tilting his head a bit. "I would hate to be wrong." His eyes looked down at your mouth for a second. That was long enough to make your stomach feel weird.

"But I think you want me as much as I want you " Shane said.

His words really got to you. Made your stomach start to churn.

Not because they surprised you or anything. Because they did not surprise you. You had been trying not to think about Shane for weeks.

You had been trying not to notice how his shirts fit him. You had been trying not to wonder what it would be like if he ever looked at you like you looked at him. Now he was looking at you like that. He was close enough that you could feel the heat coming from him. He was close enough that one step would make you touch.

"You are so full of it " you said to Shane. You didn't really mean it, you hoped this was all true, all of it wasn't in your head. Shane just smiled more. "There you are" he said. You glared at him.

He just stood there. You just stood there too.

It was weird that neither of you moved. It made your heart beat faster. Shane looked at your face. Then at your eyes again. "So tell me I am wrong " he said. It was like a challenge.

Shane's hands on your arms loosened up so you could leave if you wanted to.You could just walk away.You did not move. You just stayed there. For the first time all night Shane looked a little out of breath.

Before you could say anything Shane moved closer to you.

He leaned down. Kissed you.

It was hard and fast.

Like he had been wanting to do it for weeks and finally,  just did it. It took your breath away.

His hands went to your waist. Pulled you close to him. Like he did not want any space between you. For a moment you could not think. You did not think about anything.

Just Shane.

Just the way his skin felt on yours and the way his hands held you. Like he was afraid you would disappear or something. When he finally stopped kissing you he did not move away.

His forehead was still on yours. You were both breathing hard.

"Damn it " Shane said, backing away from you, licking his lips. He rests his hands above his head.

"What?" you asked. Looking at shane almost frantic. You knew this was a mistake, hes just horny and alone. Thats all this was. 

Shane just shook his head. Running his hands through his thick dark curls. He’s almost out of breath.

"You have no idea what you have been doing to me " he said. His hands suddenly were all over you. You pressed yourself into his chest. "Shane please " you said into his neck.

Soon as Shane heard that he changed. "Baby, tell me you want this " he said. His voice was low and shaky.

He was not demanding anything. He just really needed to hear it.

Shane touched you where you wanted him to. The fire in your stomach was getting hotter.

"Shane, please do not make me wait, " you said. Your voice was strained. It was like Shane was going to lose it then. "Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of it " he said. Shane pulls you close, putting his hands at the border of your tank top and shorts, yanking your top off in a swift movement. He swooped you up and placed you on the grass. His hands were clumsy roaming all over your body with an eagerness not the usual stoic and precise Shane.

“Sweetheart, can you take your pants off for me?” Shane tilted his head and kissed up your neck, right behind your ear. 

Immediately you unbutton and rip your pants down your legs, you black thong coming off with them, Shane scans you up and down. “Well, ain't that nice.” Shane dips down and runs his tongue down to your peaked nipples, making little circles around and around. 

“Sha-Shane, please touch me.” You beg arching into his mouth, craving any touch he can foster.

“Whatever you want baby” Shane trails his rough hands down to your wet cunt. “How ‘bout that huh? Already so so needy and I just started with you.” You reach your hand down to his rock hard bulge trapped in denim. “Girlie if you dont stop that I might finish this quickly” he chuckles

Shane takes his two longest fingers and plunges them inside of you, hard and fast. Moans and gasps escape you, unable to control any bodily function. “That feel alright?” Shane pumps his hand faster, other hand toying with your nipples.

“Ye-yes Shane. Yes. I want mor-re” It was music to his ears, his beautiful girl under him writhing about. 

“What do you want more of, sweetheart, tell me baby.” He pulls his fingers out achingly slow and pushes them back in even slower. “Shane your cock, I want your cock.” 

“Atta girl” he takes his hand to his own belt and pants to fumble with the buckle and zipper. In that moment Shane could have sworn it took 30 minutes just to pull his pants down.

He instinctively reaches his hands under your waist, flipping you over in one swift motion. “You're gonna be good for me right, sweetheart?” 

“Yes shane” You tease him a little by sticking your ass up, wading side to side rubbing yourself on his exposed cock. He felt a lot bigger than what you had imagined.

During campfires you would see his bulge just asking for you to unveil it. His arms were always exposed, either by rolled up button downs or just t-shirts. The first time you saw him without a shirt on you were sure you might be losing it. After months of being in a new world he still managed to look like that.

“Oh you dont know what im going to do to you’” he whispers in your ear, sliding the tip of his rock-hard cock over your dripping folds. Your untameable moans escape you the second shane fills you with all of his inches, his girth stretching your walls just right. He starts soft and slow letting you adjust and squirm for a second but the millisecond you adjust, Shane loses control and slams into you. 

Beat after beat.

Beat after beat.

“Sh-ane” was all you could muster, Shane grabs your throat and hair pulling your face up, “Sweetheart you like that? Does that make ya feel good?” all the sounds come crashing down at once, the river, your wetness around his cock, his moans combining with yours. All you could 

“Reach your hand back and play with yourself, baby” he commands, releasing your throat and hair allowing you to reach your clit and make little circles. Shane continues with his force slowing down a little. “Im going to cum shane” you squeal overwhelmed with all of it. Shane's unrelenting cock repeatedly pounds into you. 

“Thats good sweetheart, is my cock making you feel good?” All you can manage is moans, a true response would be impossible as Shane just slams into you faster. 

“Baby can you keep touching yourself?”all of it was too much, his cock filling you up and the abuse on your clit, it's a wonder how the camp hasn't heard any of your moans or screams by now. 

Shane is at his peak and so are you by now, both of you guys are sweaty moaning messes. “Okay baby cum now, cum with me baby” he says hot and raspy in your ear and so you do as your told. The burning release that was built up in your stomach is extinguished as you ride out your high on shane. “There you go baby” shane delivers soft bucks until he ultimately pulls out. 

He rolled onto his back beside you, staring up at the darkening sky. "We definitely need to use that soap now, don't we?" he chuckled, extending an arm toward you. You laughed despite yourself and scooted closer, tucking yourself against his side. His arm settled around your shoulders automatically, like it belonged there.

For the first time in months, maybe since all of this started, you felt warm.

Safe.

"I can't believe I let you ambush me like that," you muttered. "We probably missed all of dinner." A pout tugged at your lips as you dropped your full weight against him. Shane huffed a laugh.

"Ambush you?" his eyebrows raised.

"Yes, ambush me."

"Sweetheart, if I remember correctly, you had plenty of opportunities to walk away." You groaned and buried your face against his shirt. "I liked you better when you weren't right."

"That's a lie."

His chest rumbled beneath your cheek as he laughed. The sound made something in your chest ache. Not in a bad way. Just enough to remind you how long it had been since you'd felt anything close to normal.

For a while, neither of you spoke.The river trickled nearby. Crickets chirped in the trees. Camp felt miles away. Shane's hand drifted absentmindedly along your arm.

"You know they're never gonna let me live this down." You lifted your head. "What’re you talkin’ about?" His grin returned. "The second Amy sees us together." Your eyes widened. "Oh my God."

"Mm-hm."

"She is never going to shut up about it."

"Nope."

You groaned again and shoved lightly at his chest. Shane caught your hand before you could pull away. His smile softened. "Hey." The teasing vanished from his voice. You looked up at him. "Yeah?” For a moment, he just looked at you. Like he was making sure you were real. Then he squeezed your hand.

"Glad it was you."

word count: 3,045

[saintcastiglione]

Summary: A Butcher and a Baker shouldn't mix. You've built something soft. Frank destroys all in his path. Yet somehow, you're drawn to each other. Make no mistake, this isn't a romance. It's a crime scene. Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Warnings: 18+ Always. Canon level Violence. Character Death (non-major). Smut. Frenemies. A little hurt comfort if you squint.

a playlist if you'd like to listen to the songs that inspired the story

Support an author trying to refine their writing! Lemme know if you'd like a tag.

**notes smut.

Chapter 1: Preheat to 375° - Dropping 5/12 Chapter 2: Beat Until Stiff Chapter 3: Sanitize Your Work Surface Chapter 4: Cut the Crust Off Chapter 5: Punch Your Dough Chapter 6: Caramelize to a Thick Crust Chapter 7: Fold in Wet Ingredients** Chapter 8: Serve Before it Cools

[fawnlynndoe]

excited :3