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iamzer0 · 3 months ago

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𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘟 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪, 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦

𝙏𝙤𝙣𝙮 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙠

Y’all met through an internship, y’all worked together on a plethora of projects.

You were working on a project at home, it was a mini engine that if worked would power a multitude of things.

But one thing lead to another and next thing you know it explodes. Your parents/guardians got the blunt of it, they died in the hospital.

You were taken in by none other than Tony fricken Stark, every persons dream right…?

It would be nice and all if you weren’t currently grieving the loss of your parents. He tried to help, but it only made things worse.

You felt almost trapped mostly because you kinda were, you weren’t aloud to do anything. You couldn’t go in the kitchen, couldn’t go in the lab, couldn’t use any tech that wasn’t highly monitored, couldn’t even leave.

In Tony’s defense, he was doing this to protect you but I came off more like kidnapping rather than protective parenting.

He was scared to lose you, after the near death experience he became much more possessive, scared that if he turned his back you would be gone.

You became depressed, staying in your bed, rotting. You were grieving and Tony certainly wasn’t helping.

"𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩? 𝙞 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚" 𝘛𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 "𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩...𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙜𝙤 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.."

𝘽𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧

You were a kid of a fellow colleague, unfortunately for you your parents loved their work more than you.

They tested all kinds of serums and medicines on you, you gained some uncontrollable abilities. Your parents died due to radiation poisoning from something in their lab.

Naturally you were sent to live with your godfather, Bruce Banner.

He realized your abilities early on, as every thing in his penthouse was currently on the roof.

He helped you learn to control your abilities and emotions, while simultaneously bonding.

He was a nice guy, he gave you a good life. But unfortunately he wouldn’t let you leave like at all.

He say its for your protection but you call bullshit.

"𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨." 𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 "𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙝𝙮𝙥𝙤𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

You weren’t scared of the hulk, you knew he would never hurt you. The hulk liked you so he tried to gentle towards you every time he came out.

But even the hulk won’t let you leave.

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨

You were kidnapped by hydra when you were a child, they wanted to test a new serum on you.

Fortunately for you the avengers busted down the base before they could do anything to you. It was a simple mission get in bust down the base and get out.

But guess who they stumbled upon, little old you(you are like 12-14yrs). Of course they took you back with them.

Steve felt almost drawn to you, you reminded him of himself before the super serum.

He basically took you under his wing, but it became less training more spending time together. But as he took on a more parental role in your life his traditional way of thinking started to shine through.

First off he didn’t let you use anything internet related no phone, no tablet, etc. He also had some real traditional views on family, in his mind children were meant to stay home while the adult worked.

It was incredibly boring considering he took away the radio after he found you taking it apart in an attempt to use the wires inside to escape.

"𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧" 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 "𝙞 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜... 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚..𝙮𝙤𝙪" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘴.

𝘽𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨

You were kidnapped by hydra when you were just 4 because of your powers, healing.

When Bucky was the winter soldier he was pretty prominent figure in your life. Every time he was injured, they made him come to you.

He couldn’t understand his feelings, but he liked your presence a lot it was like a shining light he never knew he needed. He would go as far to injure himself just to be near you.

When the soldier went back to being Bucky he almost immediately went to go get you.

The rest of the team couldn’t understand why he was so attached to this random traumatized teenager but not much they could do.

Bucky was incredibly paranoid so much so that y’all slept in the same room sometimes the same bed because he was scared that if he let you out his sight something bad would happen.

When the soldier would come out he would sorta just come up to you and hug/hold you it was strange but it stopped the soldier from being violent.

It kinda felt like a hostage situation, the air was always tense and you felt forever on edge. He scared you and his paranoia certainly did not help your fears.

"𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝘽𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙃𝙮𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪" 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 "𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 2 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚!" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮.

𝙉𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙖 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙛𝙛

You were a kid she found abandoned in some old hydra base. She went through it looking for some abandoned documents.

But instead found you hunched in a corner, scared. She tried to coax you out but you swiped at her anytime she came close.

She ended up having to knock you out, she took you back to the tower.

It was a rough adjustment, especially considering you didn’t speak much English.

You bonded with Natasha, she gave you a sense of safety. The closer y’all got the more protective she became.

Something in her sorta changed the day you started calling her mom. She didn’t bother correcting you, it felt right to be called ‘mom’.

She felt this undying urge to protect you. It got to a point to where she would barely let anyone even interact with you.

She was essentially isolating you, though you couldn’t understand it you could almost feel her protection turn more malicious rather than loving.

"𝙢-𝙢𝙤𝙢 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ��𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 "𝙤, 𝙢𝙤𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙠𝙖 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣"

𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙧

Your parents managed to piss off a sorcerer, the sorcerer did not take kindly to your parents disrespect. He went after the one thing they loved more than themselves, you.

He sent you away, quite literally. Next thing you know you are falling out of the sky, take a wild guess who you fell into.

None other than The prince of Asgard himself, Thor.

He took you in, you liked it at first. I mean you lived like royalty, stomach always full, a giant room, servants there 24/7.

Everything was amazing, until you became homesick. You missed your home, your friends, your family.

He loved you, a lot. He couldn’t bare to see you sad, but he also didn’t want you to leave. You were his beacon of hope, his Midgard child.

That’s why when he discovered a way to bring you back, he chose not to. But he couldn’t keep the truth from you forever.

His own brother told you about your “fathers” secret. From that day on you hated Thor.

You hated his protective nature, the way he wouldn’t let you leave at all without him.

"𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣, 𝙈𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚" 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. "....." 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘴.

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚

You were the child of a sorcerer, that happened to be close with Dr.strange. You were around 10-12 when your parent tragically died, took to many pills.

Stephan took you in, in your time of grief you clung to him like he was your life line. You followed him around, not caring where he went you just didn’t want to be alone.

Stephan found it annoying at first but grew to love your clinging, it was oddly comforting.

He grew to see you as this innocent little kid that needed to be sheltered. You didn’t care if you were outside or inside but you just didn’t want to be alone.

Things changed when you started to heal from your parents death, you were much less clingy and would rather do your own thing rather than follow Stephan around like a lost puppy.

Though he wouldn’t admit it this was upsetting to him, he quite enjoyed your presence.

Even with you getting over your parents death, things kinda remained the same. Stephan still saw you as this innocent child that needs to be sheltered from the harsh world.

You hated it it was almost infantilizing, you tried leaving multiple times but there was no point no matter where you went Stephan could just simply teleport you back.

"𝙄𝙈 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝙆𝙄𝘿, 𝙄 𝘾𝘼𝙉 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔𝙎𝙇𝙀𝙁!!" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪��𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 "𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚" 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵.

𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞

Loki was out doing a task for the grandmaster then he found himself in trouble, he was about to flee but then you dropped in, literally.

You dropped onto his attacker, attacking him with a makeshift knife. The rest of the group fled while you robbed the attacker. Loki stood there partially in shock the other part being amazement.

You gave him a simple nod before turning to leave, but Loki quickly stopped you by putting a hand on your shoulder.

That was the day your life changed.

Loki had a lot more in common with you than he cared to admit, you were something else, something special.

Basically you had a rags to riches type story because after Loki took you in your life did a complete 180. You could see he definitely cared about you, but if he truly loved you why were you so….. isolated?

It was a good life but you never saw anyone, ever. Loki was always there but you grew tired of only seeing him. You wanted more.

You were tired of the same old boring place, so you tried to venture out, bad move.

He almost immediately found you, after that he decided he couldn’t trust you. So he chained you to your bedpost.

It was a boring life when Loki wasn’t there you only had books to keep you company, and you had grown tired of reading long ago.

You started expressing your frustration and anger, in the form of yelling. He always made some bullshit reason up on why it was better if you stayed by him.

"𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚? 𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙞𝙣" 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙡

Unlike everyone else you were his actual kid, product of a hookup before Vanessa. But he still loved you when he found out you existed.

You came to live with him, mostly because your mom couldn’t “handle you anymore” so she shipped you off to your dads.

Y’all bonded surprisingly quick, y’all were basically best friends within the first hour of living there.

He of course had somethings he really didn’t want you to see, one was his face. He had some deep rooted fear he could never admit to that if you saw what was under the mask you would leave.

Of course that wasn’t true, you honestly didn’t care what he looked like. That made him even more attached to you.

He is incredibly lenient, about everything.

He becomes must for possessive as time passes on and it’s incredibly noticeable. Naturally you want to leave for a little bit so you do, there’s no locks on the door so it’s not hard to just leave.

It’s not that he doesn’t care if you leave it’s that he knows he can get you back easily if you do leave.

But there comes a point in time where enough is enough and that point happened when you had escaped for the 4th time this week and it’s Tuesday.

Drastic times call for drastic measures, like chaining you to the wall.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚" 𝘸𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 "𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙠𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦.

A/N: I’m backkkkkkk, I low key really missed writing. Anyway I’m trying something new, let me know if y’all like it. I will be posting Hxh content but I wanna branch out a lil.

Anyway love you alll so so much bye bye(*^◯^*)

#marvel #the avengers #platonic yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere platonic #yandere fanfiction #yandere marvel #yandere bucky barnes #yandere steve rogers #deadpool fanfiction

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thatoneautisticshark · 14 days ago

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ONG CAN YOU WRITE MORE ABOUT THE SOAP BEING VOCAL HEADCANNON? PLSSS IM BEGGING

I got an ask? I GOT AN ASK! Let's fricken go. Hell to the yes you can have vocal soap. You didn't specify top or bottom so I went with bottom. :3

Soap groaned and sat up, stretching from where he had been doodling, and flopped against Ghost's shoulder. He nuzzled into that big, thick neck.

Ghost blinked at him, looking up from the book he was reading. “Johnny? Did you need something?” He queried, threading a hand into Soaps mohawk.

The scot shook his head, wrapping his arms fully around Ghost. “Nah… just in a touchy mood an’ wanna hold ye love” He murmered into the crook of his boyfriends neck.

Ghost gave another hum, wrapping an arm right around him, before returning to reading his book, letting soap rest against him.

Soap shifted leaning more heavily against the Brit. Jesus, he could fall asleep here. Granted Ghost's shoulder wasn't actually that comfortable, thick and boney at once. But hell soldiers could sleep anywhere uncomfortable.And he felt safe, that was the big thing.

He knew he was okay with Ghost, he was safe and Ghost was here. Everything was okay.He mentally face palmed. Why was he getting so fucking sappy? That was not the goal here. The goal was to get dicked down. If Ghost was amenable to sex today. Otherwise have a wank in the shower.

He began gently kissing Ghosts neck. Kissing up and down his jaw, slightly tense incase Ghost was not into it at all today and shoved him off.

Ghost just gave a hum and no negative reaction, so Soap took it for the encouragement it was, slowly beginning to also suck and nip. He earned a delightful little shivers for his efforts.

He carefully shifted around to the front of his boyfriend, plonking himself on the tallers lap. He was careful to continue necking the whole way, but now pulled back, ever so slightly.“ ‘M assuming ye okay with sex right now? Ye seeming pretty inta it”

Simon nodded, hands settling naturally on the Scots hips, fingers absently rubbing it. Soap grinned “Thank god, I'm horny as fuck. Ye cool with topping today? Really in tha mood to get fucked, but we can work something else out of you want.”

Simon shook his head. “Uhm.. no.. yeah I'm okay with that” He murmured in his uncharacteristically quiet tone that always happened with discussion of sex.

Soap grinned against the neck he was biting again “How ‘bout the mask? Can it come off…Orrrr”

Simon stilled slightly “Uhm… up to the nose”

Soap jumped on this new development, tugging the mask up to the bridge of Simons nose and kissing him, Letting his hands roam those huge fucking shoulders.

He sat up on Simons lap, scrambling to undo his belt, and leaned back a bit too far tumbling to the floor. There was a pause of about 5 seconds before soap burst into laughter. “Jesus Simon. I don' know if ye can tell, but ay am just a little bit horny ye know?”

Simon huffed a laugh pulling soap back onto the bed, pulling his pants down with his, before pulling his own off, earning a scoff from the scot.

“Fookin' show off” he spat playfully, making quick work of both their shirts. “Jesus, I will never get tired of this. Ye so fucking pretty Bonnie.” He murmured, running his hands along the soft, scarred pale skin. “Canne suck ye off? Please Bonnie? I wasn't ye dick in me mouth so bad”

Now soap was naturally chatty in bed, but to say he didn't play it up, just a little to see the pink flush Simons cheeks, who was usually very quiet and reserved in bed, would be a lie.

Upon receiving a nod of consent he dove down immediately licking and sucking. He spat into his hands, rubbing the up and down the shaft to get it slick. “Fuck ye so fucking big Bonnie. Jesus I can't wait to feel this monster cock inside me” He mindlessly poured out filth pressing a kiss to the flushed tip.

He began licking up and down the shaft watching the man above him through his eye lashes. Watching the uncovered half of his face turn a light pink, and his hands grip the sheets.

Well that just wouldn't do. Soap grabbed on of the hand guiding it to his hair before taking the tip in his mouth, relishing in the soft moan he received. He began swirling his tongue over the tip with slight head bobs, using his hands to cover what he couldn't cover with his mouth just yet.

Some how, even with the monster dick in his mouth, he managed to spew flith, albeit harder to understand through the cock in his mouth. “You taste so fucking good love. Fuck I could never get tired of the taste of you”

Simons hips bucked forward, forcing his cock down Soaps throat making him gag, tears springing up in his eyes, as the cock hit the back of his throat.

Simon gasped pulling back “I-Shit Johnny I didn't mean to are you okay? I-”

Soap shut him up with a kiss. “Shush, I am fine. Remember I like gagging on it. Anyways ye buckin’ ye hips just mean ay was doing good”

He dove back down properly sucking this time, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head. When Simons hips bucked again, he moaned around the length. This was heaven he was sure. Having the heavy weight of Simons cock filling his mouth, and Simon an pretty moaning mess above him.

Looking up at the man through his eyelashes, he felt his own, already hard, cock twitch with interest. Simon was resting his head against the wall, face pretty and flushed, blond eyelashes fluttering.

Soap groaned at the sight. “Fuck ye so pretty Bonnie” It didn't take much more before Simon was pulling him off with shaky hands, wanting to avoid cumming to early.

With his mouth now free, Soap kissed his boyfriend, loving the groans Simon gave at tasting himself on soaps tongue. Soap licked into his mouth groaning, rolling his hips without thinking about it. “Come on love, fuck me already” he whined into Simons mouth, rolling his hip again.

Simon needed several breaths before he could put himself together enough to talk “Hang on Johnny..you.. you need prep.”

Soap just giggled. “Nup. I don'.” At the confused and slightly concerned look he received, he continued “Appreciate the concern Bonnie. But just because we haven't fucked today, doesn't mean I ain't fucked myself thinking of you. So ay am more then stretched, okay?”

And Jesus Christ, soap wanted to grab his phone and take a picture.

Or scratch that, he wanted to burn this image into his retina, wanted to see it all the time, every time he closed his eyes or blinked he wanted to see it.

Simon looked like a fucking painting.His eyes blown wide, face a bright pink, mouth hanging open still a slight string of their mixed saliva dribbling down his chin.

After giving it a whole two minutes, Soap booped his nose “Earth to Simon?”

He blinked a few times before letting out a quiet “Oh”

Soap traced a hand down the muscled chest “Yeah oh. So we good? Because I need you in me like.. yesterday. Come on”

Simon nodded. Finally pushing soap back against the bed and hiking his knees over his shoulders. Soap let his head fall against the cushions. “Fuck yes Simon. Please. God you are gonna feel so fucking good with you huge fucking dick. Come on just fuck me.”

As soon as Simon started pushing in, soap let out the most whorish pornstar moan before whining “Oh fuck oh fuck. Yes yes fuck me. Mm fuck~”

As Simon finally, finally bottomed out, soap groaned. “Oh god.. oh fuckk.. Simon you're you're so big. Fuck I'm so fucking full. So good” he blabbered mindlessly, rocking his hips.

He let out a keening whine. “Come on. Fucking move Bonnie! I need you. Please please please. I'll do anything”

Simon slowly began to fuck into him, moaning quietly as he pulled out and pushed back in. His moans were very covered by Soaps whines and cries.

He cried out as Simon pulled out ramming right into his prostate. “Oh god yes! Simon! Right fucking there! Please please. I'm yours, just please.. keep ah~”

Simon began to pick up pace, ramming right into his sweet spot every time. Gripping Soaps hips with a bruising grip as he slammed into him.

“Simon! Simon! Please I'm so fucking close don't stop! Please please please please” The scot babbled mindlessly, drool dribbling his skin.

It didn't take much more to send him over the edge, thrust in a hard orgasm, clenching around Simon as he fucked him through it.

It only took a few more thrusts before Simon finished inside of soap, before flopping on his chest.

When he tried to pull out, soap hooked his ankles behind his arse pushing him back in. “Not happening Bonnie. I wanna feel you in me”

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laz-kay · 1 year ago

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One of the greatest developments in Bob’s Burgers imo is that Rudy is just… there now. There’s this unspoken rule around Rudy that he’s practically an honorary Belcher, and he casually slots himself into their lives so effortlessly. His character has been so well developed over the years that he now fits into any circumstance the Belcher’s find themselves in.

He ditched two separate Thanksgiving meals with his Mom and Dad just to see how The Belcher’s Thanksgiving played out, ended up eating with them, and probably stayed the whole evening.

He’s made multiple appearances in the kid’s fantasies, especially Louise’s. Gene and Tina even included Rudy in their renditions of Louise’s future, because of course Rudy is going to be there. Why wouldn’t he be?

When his family’s dinner took a turn for the worst, his first port of call was the restaurant. He knew he’d be safe there and would automatically click into whatever situation the Belchers had going on. He’s such a natural fit.

Tina, Gene and Louise have always sat by themselves at lunch; it's their tradition to hang out over their breaktime. Rudy sliding his way into their conversation here feels so natural and unforced, like he was always a part of their family. They're so used to him being around, they don't even question when he turns up out of nowhere.

The only other character who comes close to what Rudy has with the Belchers is Teddy. Teddy has been a constant since season 1, but he is yet to have an episode based solely around him without the Belchers looming over the storyline. "Thanks-Hoarding" was about Teddy, sure, but the Belcher's still had a huge role to play within that episode and was from their POV as opposed to Teddy's.

"The Amazing Rudy" was from his POV throughout, and the Belchers were a secondary narrative. He's the first character outside of the main five to have an episode of their own, and I think that's a statement in itself.

Idk, man. I just really think he's neat and deserves the absolute world. I could talk about him all fricken day tbh.

#regular sized rudy #rudy stieblitz #rudolph stieblitz #bob's burgers #bobs burgers #running down a gene #bobs burgers season 14 #gene belcher #tina belcher #louise belcher #the belchers #character analysis #episode analysis #bobs burgers gif

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habaritess · 6 months ago

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Is Claire Bear one of the villains of The Bear? Part 1

This is going to be kind of long, so I decided it'd be better to cut it up into 2 parts.

Recent discussions on here about Claire and Donna (@currymanganese, @thoughtfulchaos773) has got me really thinking about her character. I find it was weird how the majority of the people in The Bear have such a high opinion of her, and yet what we the audience see from her short time on screen is someone much more grey and maybe even a little sinister. Why sinister? Because Claire seems to have a major lack of conscience and is also incredibly manipulative. If Claire is such a great person like every fricken character seems to believe, then why do the writers create a character that has this many alarm bells?

I wanted to “understand” it.

I believe the first warning signs of Claire was that story she told about her childhood. A childhood friend broke her arm and while all the other kids were scared and panicked, Claire was calm. Carmy assumed it’s because she wanted to learn how to fix her broken arm so that she can help her, but Claire said she wanted to understand it. The graphic injury made her want to understand it. Let that sink in. The other kids were disturbed by the injury and no doubt also by the cries of the injured girl. Claire wasn’t. She was mentally disconnected from the scene because her empathy wasn't activated. Instead, she chooses to analyze the broken arm as if it isn’t connected to a fellow playmate. I suspect that this story Claire tells explains exactly what kind of person she is. She looks at people as a thing to analyze, and she does so in order to get what wants from them.

We get an example of how she observes other people when she correctly guesses what Carmy named his restaurant. Carmy is completely shocked. When you watch the show, you get the impression that Carmy was infatuated with Claire while they were growing up, but they weren’t close. Definitely not close enough to the point where Carmy would have spoken to Claire about what he would name his hypothetical restaurant, but Claire is quite confident that Carmy had once “told” her. He never did. I suspect that Claire has been observing Carmy, just as she has been observing many people, and she guessed what he would have named just by what she knew of him. In one way, you could view this scene as a sweet thing, that it is evidence of Claire being secretly in love with Carmy for a long time, but the way the scene was portrayed was not of something sweet( or at least that was my impression of it). In fact, Carmy seemed a little disturbed by it even, and I suspect even he had some small alarm bells going off.

During the whole conversation, Carmy gave off the impression that he was forcing himself to make small talk with an older acquaintance to avoid being rude, but he would rather been anywhere else. He had no intentions of getting reacquainted with Claire, and gave the fake number as a way to dodge any future engagements. Most people would have taken the hint… but not Claire.

Claire always gets what she wants.

It is very common for a person who grew up in abusive, dysfunctional households to find themselves in relationships with abusive individuals. It’s partly because these individuals are drawn to the negative treatment that they are used to and don’t believe they deserve anything better, and also because abusive people are adept at spotting abused individuals, and know who they can and can’t manipulate.

Little observant Claire knows Carm. She probably knew of his past crush on her and knew of his family issues. Carmy used to be way more withdrawn and quiet, lacking any friends, and was probably desperate for any positive attention. Carmy is one easy to manipulate, and Claire knows this and takes full advantage. Claire wants her some Carmy. I don’t believe she always liked Carmy, but I believe she was fully aware of his attraction towards her and probably had Carmy as a possible person to get with in the future if need be. She wanted her some Carmy and shoot her shot, but the first sign of trouble for her was Carmy barely recognizing her. She continued on and got what she thought was his number, only to find out it was a fake. This probably enraged her, and she went on a mission to get him, and get him she does through pure manipulation tactics.

She calls him, the first thing she does is ask him if he gave her a fake number, then informs him that she is “hurt”. This is the first guilt trip. Claire knows that poor, sad, lonely Carmy who grew up in a dysfunctional family that he consistently tried and failed to please, would be horrified at the idea that he let someone down. That they were sad because of him. Claire goes on to inform him that she knows his entire family plus the Faks. This is important. She is informing Carmy that he can’t escape. She is tying him down to her and giving him only a few choices.

Carmy does not confront problematic individuals. He spent the majority of his life living with his alcoholic and narcissistic mother who could never be reasoned with. He learned it was better to withdraw within himself, dissociate, and appease the people around him in order to lessen the toxicity of his environment rather than confront the problems directly. Eventually, he learned the only other way for peace is to cut certain people out of his life, and he did so by cutting off the majority of his family. If he can’t separate from them, he reverts back to his coping mechanism for dealing with his dysfunctional family, mentally absorbing their toxicity and trying his best to appease them, never truly standing up for himself, like he did so with David Shields, the evil chef in his past. Claire took away his option to run away. She knows too many of the people he knows. Her threats trap him with her and he reluctantly accepts he can’t get away from her and rather than be upfront and straight up telling her he can’t deal with her right now, he reverts back to what he usually does and focuses on appeasing her needs. Claire continues on the attack by repeatedly asking him why he gave her a fake number and applying more mental pressure. He denies it and apologizes repeatedly for the mistake, and note that in this scene, she smiles broadly at his apologies. She is loving his groveling and knows she got him where she wants.

He is still the weak Carmy she observed growing up. She still continues on accusing him of giving her a fake number, really laying down the guilt trip. She then asks him if he truly wanted her to have the number to which nonconfrontational Carmy reassures her that he did, but come on. Listen to him. He sounded incredibly unenthused and she had him repeat it twice. She is not stupid. She knows he didn’t want her to have his number. Rather than accept reality, she doubles down. She asks him if he was busy today. Carmy hesitated for bit and was trying to confirm to her that, yes, he was busy, but despite knowing that he was going to decline her, Claire interrupts him, tells him not to make this weird, and asks for a favor. Carmy is guilt tripped into believing he did wrong for giving Claire a fake number and thus denying such a favor would be really wrong. Claire made it such a big deal that she even threatened to have Fak punch Carmy in the face for it, really laying down how disagreeable his actions were to her and that he deserved punishment in some way for it. Carmy is gaslighted into thinking his actions were horrible and now he must make it up to Claire… somehow. He does so by doing what he has learned to do since his childhood. Do what they want no matter what he feels about.

Now that Carmy feels like he owes Claire his attention, they start to make future plans together. Now, Carmy doesn't want to do this with Claire, but feels obligated to do it since he feels like he can’t escape her. On season 2 episode 5, Carmy decides to use the forced time he has with Claire to do something productive for the restaurant. He actually changes their plans to hang out… to go mail their wine permit off. Note here that before he calls Claire, Carmy actually sighs twice and shifts uncomfortably on his feet. Note that Carmy shuffles his feet when he is in a situation he doesn’t want to be in, like he did in the beginning of the Christmas episode with his family. He really, really, REALLY doesn’t want to hang out with Claire at all, but forces himself to appease her.

We get another inkling of how emotionally detached Claire is when she brags about being a horrible driver. The girl is a doctor, but she is excited about being a bad driver because of the risks involved. Being a bad driver not only put the driver at risks, but others as well, but Claire does not care about this part. Now one can suggests she is just joking to play with Carmy, but putting what she says in context with other things she said, it fits her personality to not think of others. Carmy attempts to start a conversation with Claire by asking her about her residency. Claire chooses not to answer him and instead tries to throw it back at him, leading to an incredibly uncomfortable moment. One thing I notice about the beginning of this scene is that Claire is clearly annoyed by Carmy’s change of plans. You can see how irritated she is in the beginning of the scene by her head movements and expression, so her dig at Carmy in this conversation was her way of getting back at him.

Claire knows that Carmy is using their hang out time to do something convenient for himself, and she is pissed about it because it’s just yet another sign that he “just not that into her.”

End of Part 1

Part 2

#the bear #claire the bear #carmy berzatto #the bear fx #sydcarmy #carmyclaire #donna berzatto #carmy x claire

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isak-dot-gov · 6 months ago

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Heyyyyyy I thought I'd just gab my thoughts lol

Could you please write a Judgment day x reader [Platonic] OR a Rhea Ripley x reader Where Readers was out for an injury (Kinda like how rhea is Was a bit ago) and they've been out yk just living their normal life, And one night the Judgment day is doing what they do yk being emo and incredibly edgy as they do And reader makes a suprise return

I just think that would be so fricken cute tyyyy xox your writing is amazing

Surprise Return

Pairing: (Platonic)Judgement day x Reader

Word count: 1582

My masterlist:)

....................................................

The arena was electrified with the hum of anticipation. Every seat in the stadium was filled, with thousands of fans screaming and chanting in a cacophony that only heightened the excitement. The massive screens hanging above the ring lit up with the dark, brooding graphics of Judgment Day, and the audience’s reaction grew even louder.

Judgment Day was at the height of their dominance in WWE, a faction that embodied a unique mix of strength, rebellion, and pure chaos. Led by Finn Bálor, the group had become a force to be reckoned with, and their presence commanded attention. Beside Finn stood Damian Priest, his towering figure exuding a cold, intimidating presence. Dominik Mysterio, the group's newest member, looked out into the crowd with a sly grin, soaking up the mixed reactions from the fans.

But tonight, the spotlight was on Rhea Ripley. The Eradicator, as she was often called, was back in action after a minor injury had sidelined her for a few weeks. She stood in the ring, her posture defiant and strong, black lipstick accentuating her smirk as she looked out at the sea of faces. The crowd's reactions were divided between boos and cheers, a testament to the polarising nature of Judgment Day.

Rhea grabbed a microphone, her voice cutting through the noise like a knife. "So, this is the welcome we get, huh? After all the entertainment we provide for you ungrateful lot?"

The crowd’s reaction intensified, and Rhea’s smirk only widened. She thrived on the tension, on the energy that only a live WWE audience could provide.

Damian took the mic next, his voice a low, growling baritone that echoed through the arena. "You all think you can stop us? Think again. Judgment Day is here to stay, and we’re stronger than ever."

Dominik chimed in, his smirk growing more pronounced. "And trust me, none of you are ready for what's coming next."

Finn nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. "You’ve seen what we can do. But this… this is only the beginning."

As they continued to hype up their dominance and plans, Rhea’s mind drifted for a moment. She couldn’t help but think about you. You had been an integral part of the faction before your injury—one of the few people who understood what it meant to walk the fine line between chaos and control. The friendship between you and Rhea had been instantaneous and deep; there was a mutual respect and understanding that went beyond words.

The crowd's reaction suddenly shifted, pulling Rhea back to the present. The lights flickered, and then, without warning, the arena went dark. A murmur of confusion rippled through the audience. Judgment Day looked around, bewildered but ready for anything. The titantron flickered back to life, and a heartbeat-like thump echoed through the stadium speakers. It was a sound that everyone knew—your entrance theme.

Gasps of surprise and excitement filled the arena. Fans were on their feet, their eyes glued to the entrance ramp. The Judgment Day members exchanged shocked glances. Rhea’s heart raced in her chest as she tried to process what was happening.

The screen above showed a series of highlights from your past matches, a montage of your resilience, strength, and charisma. Then, the heartbeat thumping faded into your entrance music. The crowd erupted in cheers. The lights around the entrance ramp flashed in time with the music, creating a spectacle that had everyone on the edge of their seats.

And there you were, stepping out onto the stage, illuminated by the spotlight. Your presence sent a wave of exhilaration through the crowd. Dressed in your signature gear, you looked just as fierce and confident as ever. The months of recovery and rehab seemed like they had only made you stronger.

Rhea’s face broke into a wide grin, a mix of relief and excitement. "No way," she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. The rest of Judgment Day mirrored her reaction, stunned but thrilled to see you.

You took your time walking down the ramp, soaking in the atmosphere. Every step was measured, a reminder to the WWE Universe that you were back and better than ever. As you approached the ring, you locked eyes with Rhea, and she knew immediately—your return was more than just about getting back into the ring. It was about reclaiming your place in Judgment Day, your family.

Sliding under the ropes, you stood up and faced your teammates. Rhea was the first to move, stepping forward and enveloping you in a tight hug. The crowd’s cheers grew even louder at the sight. "Welcome back, Y/N," Rhea whispered, squeezing you tightly. "We've missed you."

You laughed, the sound filled with emotion. "Missed you guys too. It's been too long."

Finn, Damian, and Dominik crowded around, each giving you a hug or a pat on the back. Damian, always the stoic one, even cracked a rare smile. "It's good to see you, Y/N," he said, his deep voice softening for a moment. "We’ve been holding things down, but it wasn’t the same without you."

"Thanks, Damian," you replied, smiling up at him. "I’ve been itching to get back in here and stir things up again."

Dominik, the newest member, looked at you with a mix of admiration and respect. "Glad to have you back, Y/N. We could use your... unique touch around here."

You chuckled, appreciating the camaraderie. "Oh, don't worry. I’m back, and I’m ready to make some waves."

Finn handed you a microphone, his grin never fading. "Say something to the people, Y/N. Let them know who’s back."

Taking the microphone, you turned to face the crowd, who were still buzzing with excitement. "It’s been a long road to recovery," you began, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "But I'm back now. And I’m ready to remind everyone exactly why Judgment Day is the most dominant force in WWE."

The crowd roared in response, and you could feel the energy surge through you. This was where you belonged, and you weren’t going to let anything take that away again.

Rhea took the mic back, still smiling. "Judgment Day was already unstoppable. But now? With Y/N back, there’s no one that can touch us."

The crowd’s cheers were deafening, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. Being back in the ring, with your friends by your side, felt like coming home.

Just as the cheers started to settle, the sound of someone’s music blaring through the speakers cut through the celebration. The crowd shifted from cheers to a mix of surprised gasps and jeers as a rival faction’s entrance music played, signalling an unexpected interruption.

Rhea’s expression instantly turned from joyous to serious, her eyes narrowing as she turned toward the entrance ramp. The rest of Judgment Day followed suit, their muscles tensing as they prepared for whatever was coming.

You, however, were grinning from ear to ear. “Guess I get to dive back in sooner than expected,” you muttered, cracking your knuckles in anticipation.

A few seconds later, a group of wrestlers emerged from the back, their expressions cocky as they strode toward the ring. You could feel the tension in the air thickening, the energy in the arena shifting from celebratory to confrontational.

The lead rival grabbed a microphone, a smirk on his face as he looked at you. “Well, well, well. Look who’s back. Y/N, isn’t it a bit too soon for a comeback? We all thought you’d be smart enough to stay on the sidelines.”

You stepped forward, the smile never leaving your face. “Funny, I was just thinking it was about time someone reminded you who runs this place,” you shot back, your voice filled with confidence.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and you could see Rhea and the rest of Judgment Day smirking at your response. It was on.

Before anyone could make a move, you lunged forward, sliding out of the ring and charging up the ramp. The rival faction was caught off guard, stumbling back as you threw the first punch. The rest of Judgment Day quickly followed, launching themselves into the fray.

The crowd went wild as chaos erupted at the top of the ramp. You ducked and dodged, delivering quick jabs and powerful kicks, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Rhea was right by your side, taking down opponents with a combination of raw power and skill.

Finn, Damian, and Dominik were equally relentless, the five of you working together in perfect harmony. It was like you had never been away—your movements fluid, your teamwork seamless.

The rival faction quickly found themselves overwhelmed, retreating under the onslaught. Within moments, you and Judgment Day had cleared the ramp, sending the invaders scrambling back through the curtain.

Breathing heavily, you looked over at Rhea, who was grinning widely, her eyes shining with excitement. “Now that’s what I call a welcome back party,” she said, laughing.

You laughed with her, the exhilaration of the fight still coursing through you. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you made your way back to the ring, the crowd erupted in chants of your name. Rhea, Finn, Damian, and Dominik joined in, raising your arms in celebration. You felt a surge of pride and happiness, knowing that you were finally back where you belonged—with your family, ready to take on whatever came next.

And with Judgment Day by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t face.

...................................................

Isak speaks: I love writing requests sm but I also get scared I'm not doing a good job because I'm not in the person's mind lol

#rhea ripley x reader #the judgement day #wwe #the judgment day x reader #mami rhea #damian priest #finn balor #dominik mysterio

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amy-rose-xo · 1 month ago

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Amy's First Christmas Kiss || SHADAMY - Part 3

Amy has 1 goal this Christmas and it's to get her first Christmas kiss from her blue hero... but what happens when she realises another hedgehog might be more worthy of her first kiss?

Amy wasn't sure where to start looking for Shadow. She had no idea if she would see him again if he left. She hated the thought more than anything.

As she ran down the street, she frantically began looking for him. 'He can't have left already,' She thought. But the pink hedgehog didn't even know where he'd been staying. Where should she even look?

Amy's eyes widen and she realizes if one person knows where Shadow is, it would be Rouge. After all, Shadow had said that she was the one who contacted him to come back to town. If she didn't know maybe she could contact him again.

Amy turned around quickly and started running in the opposite direction towards Rouge's place. It took her some time and she was out of breath completely when she arrived. She started pounding on the door loudly, shouting for Rouge to answer.

The door swung open and Rouge was standing in just a shirt looking annoyed at the intrusion.

"Miss Rose, this better be fricken' important," Rouge growled.

Amy's eyes went wide as she spotted knuckles peeking into the hallway to see who was at the door. Amy glanced between them before Rouge looked back. They both froze as if they had been caught.

"I uh-" Amy stammered, a little shocked she would see Knuckles at Rouge's house. 'Weren't they constantly fighting?' Amy thought.

"Listen girlie, if you don't have anything to say, I must go-"

Amy stops the door immediately as Rouge tries to close it and hide both her and Knuckles's embarrassment.

"Where is Shadow?" Amy demands.

"Shadow? He just left. Said he couldn't make my party after all." Rouge explains, looking more confused.

"Where did he go?" Amy asks firmly.

"Girlie, that hedgehog tells me nothing. It's silly to ask me-"

"Please Rouge, think," Amy begs.

Rouge suddenly realizes that it must be important for Amy to be this desperate.

"Well, he'll probably have to stop for gas nearby since his motorcycle runs out quickly. There's a station just down the road-"

Before Rouge could even finish, Amy was already running down the street in the direction of the gas station. 'Please be there, please be there,' running through her head the whole time.

"You're welcome!" Rouge calls sarcastically after Amy before turning back to Knuckles. "And you, didn't I tell you to stay put and not be seen!" She yells closing her door.

Amy was panting heavily from all the running and she felt relieved when the gas station was coming into view. She couldn't see anyone at first but then she saw a motorcycle parked. 'Please be Shadow' She pleaded in her mind. 'Please don't let it be too late.'

As Amy got closer she saw an ebony figure climbing onto the motorcycle and immediately she knew it was Shadow. She started calling out but she was still too far for him to notice her. She wasn't prepared to give up though, as he started his bike, she quickly turned and took a quick shortcut as she knew he was going to have to turn on this road to be able to leave town. She didn't stop running, she had to stop him now. All she could think was that there might not be a next time, he may never come back.

"Shadow!" Amy yells out.

She stops on the road, praying that he hasn't already passed by. 'Please, please, please' She begged in her head. Without noticing it, tears began falling down her cheeks. Maybe she was too late. Maybe she missed her chance. The tears begin falling faster and her ears drop at her failure.

"Rose?"

Amy quickly turns and sees Shadow standing beside his parked motorcycle. Amy's eyes widened and she almost couldn't believe it was really him.

"Shadow! I thought you left!" She exclaims between sobs as she runs over to him, her feet sore and her breath uneven.

"I was about to," He admits. "But then I thought I heard your voice call me and I stopped here." He explains. He tilts his head confused. "Why are you crying, Rose?"

"I thought," She huffs, "you left."

Shadow frowns and gently wipes her cheek stopping tears from falling them.

"I thought you didn't need me," He muttered lowly. "I saw your letter for Sonic."

"I don't care about the letter." Amy sharply responds. "Please stay." She begs. "I don't," She sniffles, "I don't want you to leave again."

Shadow gently pets her head and grabs her hand gently, starting to lead her towards his bike.

"How many times will you be out in the snow?" He asks sharply.

"As many times as you will save me." She responds.

Shadow halts in dragging her to his bike and looks over at the pink hedgehog in confusion.

"But I thought Sonic would always save you." Shadow mutters, a slight bitterness in his voice.

"I want you to save me. Not Sonic." Amy says quickly and sharply. She gently lifts her hands to Shadow's cheeks and without giving him a chance to respond she presses her lips gently onto his.

Shadow froze. Froze in place. Amy Rose was kissing him? But she was supposed to be meeting with Sonic right now? Since when has Amy ever run away from Sonic?

Amy pulls back almost as quickly as she had kissed him and her face turns bright red as she wipes the back of her hand on her cheeks to remove the remaining tears.

After Amy pulled away, Shadow looked above him and then around.

"What are you looking for?"

"The plants? I didn't see any."

'The plants?' Amy thought. When the realization hit, she laughed and shook her head.

"There's no mistletoe, I just wanted to kiss you." She says, a light blush still on her cheeks.

Shadow tried to hide it but his cheeks turned red at her words. He wasn't sure what it meant but it made his chest hurt.

"Oh," He grumbles. "I see."

Amy smiles brightly at him. She wasn't even sure what it meant for them, but she was happy. Happy that she had finally had her first kiss and happy that it was with Shadow.

"So you don't need a plant to kiss someone?" Shadow asked as his hand lifted to Amy's face.

Amy shook her head. "No plants are needed." She answered.

With consent, Shadow quickly leaned forward and closed the gap between their lips. He had never felt such a rush before.

Once their second kiss was over, Shadow was already craving another. It was a strange feeling that he had never had before. Perhaps this is what Amy described as love? A constant want to be with that person and make them happy?

"Maybe I will stay in town a little longer..." Shadow quietly mumbled.

Amy smiled brightly, "Please do."

"But first, I should make sure you get home safe. C'mon." Shadow takes Amy's hand and helps her onto his motorcycle.

"By the way, Merry Christmas Shadow." Amy beams a shy smile on her lips and a light blush on her cheeks.

Shadow smiles. "Merry Christmas, Rose."

[END]

[part one] | [part two] | [part three]

#shadamy #shadamyfanfic #shadamyfanfiction #shadowxamy #amyxshadow #sonicau #sonicaufanfic #sonicaufanfiction #sonicthehedgehog #shadamyoneshot #shadamystory #amyrose #shadowthehedgehog #amy-rose-xo

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anyamaris · 2 years ago

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Just a Taste

Word Count-3244

Summary- Being a vampire was a pain in the butt, but not as much of a pain as Wooyoung was.

Pairing- Wooyoung x Vampire!f!reader

Trope-Supernatural AU

Warnings-Language, biting, blood, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) MINORS DNI 18+ lots of talk about veins.

A/N-This is directly connected to another little 2 part I wrote about Yunho as a vampire! They can be read standalone but if you'd like to read those here is the link! There are only mentions of some of the people in this one so it's not very important.

I hope you enjoy, I had fun with this one. Thank you for the encouragement too @wooyoungmybelovedhusband 🤍

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @shinestarhwaa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @babesindestroyland @yoonguurt @stardragongalaxy @lemonhongjoong (tagging you because you seem to like my stuff so let me know if you want to be removed!)

NSFW below cut

"Pleeeease!!!!" Wooyoung asks for the, who knows? 1000th time? He's gotten to the point where you just want to punch him right in his pouty little face. He bats his eyelashes at you and tries to act cute but you just push past him.

"No." You say, rolling your eyes. He just wouldn't quit. Ever since you accidentally showed your fangs that one fricken time, he hasn't let up on you. "Whyyyyy nooooot?" he whines out and grabs your arm, pleading. You grab him by his shirt and hoist him up off the floor, feet dangling.

"Woo. Stop. I'm not biting you." you say and are about to smile at his silence, then he smirks as his eyes get big. "Oh wow...Y/n....this is so hot...." he says, and you roll your eyes AGAIN, letting him down. "Quit it. I told you, I don't want to bite my friends. It's a..." you start, stopping to bite your lip.

What you wanted to tell him was that it was a very intimate act with someone you knew. With strangers, it didn't matter, you didn't care whether they got hurt or not, because you could erase their memories. You didn't want to erase your friends memories. And you weren't concerned with becoming more attached to them, especially since normally you fed on complete douchebags.

But to bite and drink Wooyoung's blood? Well...it was just far too dangerous. For the both of you. "It's what? Y/n, tell me." He gently places a hand on your arm and you sigh. "Look, Woo. I can't explain it....it's complicated. But just know I'm saying no for your own good. It's not exciting like the movies, where I'm all pretty and sparkly. It's not all romantic, it's literally just me drinking blood. That's it." You say, ignoring the voice in your head protesting.

It's not like you've not thought about it. Being...intimate with Wooyoung, licking his throat, those delicious plump veins. The man drove you wild with blood lust...as well as another type of lust. Which was why you were adamantly against indulging in his curiosity.

Once you fed on him, you weren't sure if you'd be able to stop yourself from wanting him more and more. It could be dangerous, you think again and shake your head at the thought.

"You're so mean to me." he pouts and you just walk away, ignoring him. He was so ridiculous that you just wanted to scream. Making your way into the living room, you plop down with Seonghwa and he gives you a half hearted smile. "He's at it again, huh?" Hwa asks with sympathy and you just close your eyes and nod. "Let's play a game and take your mind off of him, he'll find something else to do."

Coming in from your hunt, you sigh and roll your shoulders. You were exhausted from trying to get your mind off of a certain someone who'd been hounding you forever. Every time you bit into some strange man in a back alley, you thought of Woo. Every time you swallowed the rich liquid from someone's veins, you closed your eyes and thought of Wooyoung's neck. It was tiring.

You never gave in to any kind of lust with a stranger, not that you had any desire to do so anyhow when you were drinking blood. But the idea of feasting on Wooyoung while sinking your fangs into one of his plump......

You whimper and rub your eyes, shaking your head at yourself. "Horrid man, tempting me." you mutter and go down into your room. Hwa was definitely fast asleep. It'd been a few months since You'd all moved to a bigger place, and you were grateful for the space he'd provided all of you. San and Yeosang had the rooms on the upper floor and you enjoyed your basement room fully.

It was nice and dark, completely finished and Hwa had made sure the windows were sealed shut so no light could penetrate during the day. Sometimes you slept during the daylight hours, but as long as you stayed indoors, it wasn't a necessity. One of the many things the myths get wrong. It just hurt and burned your energy faster in the light. And being weak as a supernatural creature was never a good idea.

Shutting your door behind you, you turn on your lights and stretch. "You're back early." you hear from within and you're instantly on high alert, darting into a corner. "Wow! I didn't even see you move over there, you're so fast." you hear and your mind clears enough to finally process the voice. "WOO!" you yell and then you're in front of him, glaring down.

He's sitting in your computer chair, his mouth open, his long hair hanging in his eyes. Even in your momentarily panicked state, you feel the urge to reach out and tuck his hair behind his ear. "Why are you in here?" you ask him, trying to sound calm.

He tilts his head at you and shrugs, "You told me I could come us your computer when you were gone. Is that not alright?" Cursing yourself for forgetting you had indeed allowed this, you sigh. "It's fine," you say backing off. "I...it's fine..." you repeat, turning to leave again.

You feel Woo's hand grasp your arm and you don't bother shrugging him off. "What, Woo?" you ask, hand on your head. Being unable to feed tonight has you sleepy and low on energy. You definitely didn't have enough to argue with him, especially after using so much thinking he was an intruder.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asks, his normal teasing tone nowhere to be found. His concern has you shaking your head to clear it. That was the last thing you needed right now, Wooyoung knowing you were feeling vulnerable.

Senses on overdrive all of a sudden, your nostrils flare when you notice what he's wearing. As he stands up and pulls you to him, you find yourself drawn to the thick, juicy veins running down his neck, his collarbone and shoulder exposed. He was wearing a black tank top and just a sweater that was currently slipping down his arm, tantalizing you with the sound of the blood pumping through him.

He curls his arm around you, petting your hair and whispering. "Y/n, did you not feed yet today?" You whimper as he cradles your head, your face so close to his bare skin and those delicious-

"Woo!" you yell stepping back as fast as you can. His face is more serious than normal, more...determined. Oh this isn't good, not tonight...you think and cover your nose and mouth to stop the intense scent coming from him. You could smell his lust and it confused you.

"Y/n....for being such a powerful vampire, you're so tiny in my arms. It's ok if you want to just give in for a little while, you know? You look so tired." he is saying, walking towards you with his hands up like you were a feral animal. I guess I kind of am, you think, your need spiking as your eyes trail from his dark eyes to his full lips, then down to his delectable shoulder.

Your breathing speeds up as he pulls you back into him, tilting your head into his neck. "Woo...." you whine and he gasps as he feels your breath on his bare skin. You can't help but brush your lips across the plump vein on his neck and his arms tighten around you. On a hiss, you draw back, but he's not letting go.

You could easily use your strength to pull away but...you find yourself not wanting to. Your mind was screaming to resist this, to not give in to something so base, that this was so dangerous. But your body was acting on it's own, and you can't help but respond when Wooyoung dips his head and takes your lips with his.

His arms pull you into him even more, pressing you against him and you can feel his lust now, on top of smelling it. His rigid length is pressing against your lower belly, and he moans against your lips as you encircle his waist and open your mouth to him.

Unable to help it, you feel your fangs lengthen and before you can pull back, he hisses as his tongue is nicked. You feel your eyes go red as the iron rich taste of blood swirls over your tongue. When you go to pull back, his hand clutches the back of your head tighter, deepening the kiss instead of breaking it.

"No," he's saying, kissing you between his words, "Not this time." Moaning, he's backing you up to the bed until your knees hit it. "You're not getting away from me..." he growls out and then he's yanking your top over your head, tossing off his sweater. He grasps you by your waist and picks you up like you weigh nothing. To surprised to go anything but gasp, his hands slide down to cup your ass. Instinctively, your legs go around him.

"Woo-" you start and then he's licking your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin, making your skin prickle in need. "I could snap you in two with my thighs," you manage and you feel his hot breath as he laughs softly against your neck. "Then break me." he says huskily as he falls with you onto the bed, landing on top of you.

He draws your arms over your head, pinning you down. You close your eyes and turn your head, feeling suddenly shy about looking like a monster to him. "Y/n. Look at me." he says breathily and you can't help but slowly look back up at him. You can't even breathe as you take in how sexy he looks propped over you, his hips between your legs. His stiffness pressed against you, his hair hanging down and his eyes full of lust. You watch him lick his lips and the blood on them from where you bit him makes your fangs grow painfully, ripping a moan from your throat before you can tamp down on the desire.

You can't help yourself from biting your own lip, the sharpness of your fangs cutting into your bottom lip. The stinging pain and Woo's moan as he descends upon your mouth again has you unable to think. He lets out a moan as he licks the bloodied wound on your lip, and you return the favor, your tongue darting out to taste him again.

Too late you realize what you've just done as Wooyoung gasps suddenly, his hands around your wrists squeezing even harder. He moans out as his hips writhe against you, rubbing his hard length along your wet panties. His cock feels like an iron bar grinding against you as his eyes take on a red glint. "Fuck-Woo-SHIT," you cry out, attempting to push against him, but the surge of strength he's gotten from ingesting your blood has you terrified. For both him and you.

"Fuck, Y/n, this feels amazing..." he breathes out, then his mouth is on yours again, one hand holding both of your wrists as the other one travels down to yank down your bra. "You smell so fucking delicious...." he is saying as he licks his way down your neck, nibbling on your collar bone. His hand is cupping your breast as his mouth makes it's way to your tender flesh, sucking your nipple into his mouth as he groans and grinds against you.

You vaguely recognize the signs of his blood high from the scent comment and sudden strength but then you're lost as his hand leaves your chest to delve into your panties. He teases at your wet entrance, sliding his fingers through your slick folds. You whine out and your cheeks go red again as you tense up. "Why did your scent change?" he asks, moving back up to kiss you gently, a worried look in his eyes.

"Nothing I-" you start but then you look away again shyly, your ears burning. "Do you not like this, gorgeous?" he asks, his fingertips plying at your opening. "I...do..." you breathe out and swallow dryly. He continues to look down at you as he slips a finger into you and your mouth opens as he does. "Holy fuck, baby you're so tight.." he manages as he starts to press into you further. Just the feeling of his finger inside of you has you going insane. Then he's slipping another in and you cry out as he pumps both in and out of you. Your hips slowly start to match his motions and he's got you gasping with tears in your eyes. "Mmm you look so fucking hot writhing beneath me, helpless." Woo moans out and you feel the tell tale signs of an orgasm building in your lower tummy. The tightness ramps up and he thrusts his fingers into you one last time, stopping right before you can reach your peak.

You sob out his name and he smiles down at you. "Not yet. I want to feel you clamp down on my cock like that. I'm not going to let you cum until I'm buried deep inside of you and you're feeding on me." he whispers to you and then he's yanking off his pants, discarding the rest of his clothing in a heap.

"You like this, don't you?" he asks, finally letting go of your wrists, allowing you to grasp his hair in your fingers, drawing him back to your needy mouth. His one hand is pressing your thigh open, gripping you behind your knee and pulling it up as he tangles his tongue with yours. His hard length is prodding at you, his hip motions controlled as he teases at you. You pull at his hair as your other hand grabs his ass, your hips trying to lift as you try to pull him down onto you.

But his temporary strength, coupled with your weakened, vulnerable state won't allow you to have your way. And he knows it, from the smirk on his face as he watches you from above. "Tell me what you want, my beautiful girl..." he whispers down at you, the head of his cock pressing into you, and you can feel yourself clenching at him, needing him. "Woo....please fuck me," you're ashamed to hear yourself whining out but you can't help it.

The sudden counter balance of feeling helpless is making you completely insane, losing your reason as he stretches you, finally giving in to your frantic cries. He starts slowly but then his eyes darken and he finishes with a hard thrust into you. You choke out a moan as his hips press you down into the mattress, his husky voice in your ear. "You're so fucking tight, oh my god. How can you be so fucking tight and drenched for me," then he's pulling back to thrust hard into you again, ripping a cry from you.

The burst of strength he's gotten has you wondering if he's going to bruise you. At the thought, you clench down around him and he cries out incoherently, drenching him with even more of your juices. You can't help but whine as he starts pounding into you, his mouth all over your neck, your shoulders, your chest as he fucks you. The sound of your bodies slamming together, the wet slapping has you climbing your peak again.

Woo notices and he flips you both, startling you. He sits up and takes your ass in his hands, moving you up and down on him. You throw your head back as you roll your hips, the pleasure building even more.

He slips a hand into your hair, pulling the back of your head so your mouth meets his once again. He breaks the kiss and gazes into your eyes to watch you for a moment before he guides your face to his throat. "Drink." he demands and you hesitate for only a moment before you graze your teeth along his thick, pulsing vein.

"Fuck! Bite me, Y/N! I want my blood filling your mouth as my cum fills your tight little pussy!" He's crying out and you see stars as you sink your fangs into his warm flesh, your teeth puncturing his swollen vein. Hot, fragrant blood bursts into your mouth and you suck and lick his throat wildly as you bounce on him. Your walls begin to clamp around him, spasming as you feel your dam break. Wooyoung let's out an animalistic cry as his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your ass, bruising you. The scream you let loose is unending as you throw your head back, blood covering your lips and you look down at him as he thrusts deep inside of you, his face contorted in ecstasy.

The sound of his release, calling out your name, moaning desperately, has you harnessing another wave and you just hold on helplessly as he pulls you down one last time, emptying himself deep within your womb. His head falls forward onto your chest and your hand goes into his hair, running your fingers through the dark tresses.

After a few moments of silence broken only by the sounds of breathing, his arms tighten around you and tighten, pulling you even closer. You let your head tip onto his, resting your cheek against his hair and allowing yourself to breath in all of his scents. His rich blood, his natural scent and the scent of his seed mixed with your fluids has you dizzy with overwhelming pleasure and contentment.

When you go to pull back, he pulls you closer again and whines. Chuckling at his neediness, you feel stirring in your withered heart. After all the control he just exerted, his clinginess has you inwardly melting and screaming red alert all at once. Shit....this is so so....dangerous....you think.

"My precious treasure, that's what you are to me." Woo says, looking up at you, his eyes soft and pleading. "Don't erase this please...don't take this from me." he begs quietly, making your heart clench. You can't help but bring your lips to his, kissing him softly.

How in the world did that insanely passionate encounter have you going all mush for this human all of a sudden?

"Only me." He is saying, whispering and kissing you, your lips, your cheeks, your eyes. "Only drink from me, only touch me, only look at me." he's saying in between brushing his soft lips over your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that's how you found yourself in this position. A moment of weakness, agreeing to Wooyoung's quiet but intense pleas in the blissful after effects of lovemaking.

"Hey, I told you. Don't screw the human. Don't give in to him. He's a bigger monster than anyone in this household." Seonghwa is saying, and you can't help but hang your head in shame as he shakes his head at you in dismay.

Wooyoung just looks at both of you sitting on the couch with a pout. "Come on! Seriously, wouldn't it be easier if you just turned me? You already drink my blood and you even said if I was turned my blood would be even better for you-" he starts up again, following you out of the room as you grunt in frustration.

"I told her." Hwa says, booting up Animal Crossing.

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez fanfic #wooyoung smut #ateez au #wooyoung x reader #vampire reader #wooyoung x vampire!reader

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super-hero-confessions · 1 month ago

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Whether or not Homelander understood Becca was "too scared to say no" which logically makes no sense is irrelevant. He still fucking raped her which means IT WAS STILL BY FORCE WHETHER SHE WAS HURT OR NOT.

First, he has super strength which means he can make it so struggle is impossible. He only has to exert minimal force to hold her down, how the fuck is there any way to even fight that? There is literally no reason for him to use "excessive force" when she CAN'T fight back and I fucking hate you people stuck in rape apologia land for making me explain these mechanics. In the comic while it wasn't "Homelander" who raped Becky, her rapist kept a hand on her throat with such a perfect amount of strength exertion that she had to focus solely on breathing so she could just stay alive. He left no marks and I wouldn't be surprised if something similar happened with Homelander and Becca. I also want to remind people that this guy can SMELL fear, hear heartbeats, fricken see inside of people. Becca wasn't "physically hurt" because he had no interest or reason in doing so, but he knew at the very least that it was a situation she did not want because:

1. HE TORTURED HER FOR 3 HOURS AND YOU REALLY THINK HE COULDN'T RECOGNIZE HOW MUCH SHE DIDN'T WANT TO BE THERE???

2. SHE SCREAMED ABOUT IT TO HIS FACE. "YOU DON'T GET TO SAY THAT AFTER WHAT YOU DID." He full well knew what he she was talking about and how she felt about it but he didn't care!

3. He literally DID force himself into her and Ryan's lives with no accounting for how she felt about the situation. The ONLY thing that mattered was RYAN. And if you'll recall her threat of KILLING HERSELF IN FRONT OF HER OWN SON AND TELLING HIM "YOUR FATHER DID THIS TO ME" ABOUT HOMELANDER. The reason he WASN'T more "forceful" was because he wanted RYAN to love him, not hate him for hurting his mom.

Let's make this clear. It doesn't matter how it happened. Homelander doesn't CARE about humans or how they feel. He views himself as a god who is above them, so whether or not Becca would have wanted to say no or was "too scared to" or not would have been IRRELEVANT to him. With all his supersenses, he would have KNOWN she didn't want it but it still WOULDN'T have mattered to him because of HOW he views himself and humanity.

THE REASON HE RAPED HER IS THE SAME ONE ANY FUCKING RAPIST HAS.

HE. FELT. ENTITLED. TO. IT.

So don't you dare fucking whitewash or downplay what he did. He raped her. End of.

#confession #rant #homelander #the boys

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kiss-theggoat · 2 years ago

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Can we have the after math of finding out it’s Billy? I’m fricken hooked on your writing.

A/N: You’re so sweet I’m flustered🥹 I’m in love with Billy Loomis so ask and you shall receive! This one’s a little short but I wasn’t too sure what direction to take it. Please leave more requests, I love them!

Familiar Pt. 2

Billy Loomis x F!Reader

Word Count: 800

Summary: Billy knows he has to kill you. He just can’t bring himself to do it.

TW: Thoughts of violence, suggestive, Billy is a murderer, Knives and Blood

Billy watched your face go from ecstasy to pure shock, horror, disbelief. You lay on your bed, vulnerable and spread for him, willingly giving your body to a serial killer, eyes wide and lips trembling as you whisper his name.

“…B-Billy?” You stuttered out, pretty cheeks turning a deeper shade of red, if that was even possible. A slap echoed throughout the room because of how hard you slapped your legs together, sitting up and covering your body completely, shaky hands searching for clothes or a blanket to cover yourself with. Billy was amused by this.

“You’re okay with fucking a faceless stranger but not a friend?” He teased, lips still flush and slick from your past activity. Your heart was beating a million miles an hour, stomach doing backflips. Billy was who you’d been sleeping with all this time? You felt betrayed, but at the same time you thought it was the hottest thing ever that he had been keeping it a secret. On the other hand…this meant that your best friend, your Billy, was a killer.

“I…I don’t…” words wouldn’t form. Your brain was moving way too fast for your mouth.

With a sneaky hand he reached down to his black boot, yanking the Bowie knife from its side. “Thought I told you to keep your eyes shut, pretty girl.”

Hearing his voice instead of the modulator made your heart flutter. You’d yearned for years for Billy to call you his, be able to kiss him, hang on his arm during lunch like Sydney did. You found it hard to be scared of the knife in a moment like this, your feelings for Billy blocking your fear.

“I’m sorry Billy, I…you sounded so familiar I-I…I just needed to see you.”

Billy froze. Usually, killing people was no big deal for him. Slice and dice, go home, maybe get a snack and watch a movie, go to bed. He stood still, knife pointed towards you threateningly, but as he stared into your puppy dog eyes and heard you say his name so sweetly, he was reminded of why he kept coming to see you.

You were his escape from everything. The plan. Pretending to be in love with Sydney was exhausting, he hated her. She looked just like her mother, and he couldn’t wait to kill her, but you. He liked spending time with you, and the fact that you willingly slept with Ghostface, not knowing it was him, could make him cum on the spot.

You were just as fucked up as he was.

He stepped forward, pressing the knife gently against your cheek and pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear with it. “Such a shame.” He said softly, trying to hype himself up somehow. Convince himself to get rid of you, like he knew he had to.

You didn’t know where to look. You stayed still, frozen, scared that any move would cost you your life. Finally, you stared up at him. “Please. I’m not going to tell anyone.” You whispered, hand creeping up towards Billy’s.

He didn’t move. He let you touch his hand, gently grasping his wrist. You didn’t push the knife away from his face like he expected, instead, you held it still and pushed your cheek into it slightly. A bead of blood welled at the surface of your skin, trailing warmth down your face. Before the blood could reach your jawline, Billy lowered the knife in shock.

He could trust you. He knew he could. Stu would be pissed off. Should he tell you that Stu’s in on it too? Maybe not yet.

He dropped the knife onto the bed, watching it bounce off your plush comforter, making him think about everyone who’s died at its blade. “I believe you. But I’m gonna need some collateral.” He said, a mischievous smirk on his face.

You were confused, eyebrows furrowed and head shaking slightly. “What do you mean?” Your voice was still timid. Billy’s large hand moved past you, grabbing the knife again and with the other hand, he grabbed yours. The handle of his knife was cold, haunting in your innocent hand.

“Stu’s party on Friday.” He said, stroking the dull side of the blade as it sat heavy in your palm. “You…help me.”

Your stomach dropped in horror. He wanted you to kill someone. “Who?” You asked, wide eyes staring at the shining steel. He grinned his perfect grin at you, enticing you with his good looks that you’d admired for years.

“Tatum.”

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #ghostface #ghostface fanfiction #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader

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loverslantern · 1 year ago

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The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x F!reader

Description: After getting a call from John Winchester after no contact for months. The group gets led to a town in which a couple goes missing every year around the same time. But Sam doesn’t want to follow orders anymore, and the town still needs help.

Warnings: Cannon Violence, fight scene (tell me how i did, im still learning how to write it!), arguing, a little angst, talk of crimes, cursing (i think), talk about sacrifices and Pagan rituals (i fricken love learning about Paganism), Y/N gets a little snarky and cocky, use of magic and abilities

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn

Word Count: …14,005

Scarecrow

(Master List, Prev. Chapter, Next Chapter)

“So you’re with the Winchesters?” Adeline says, her voice just as husky and amused as I remembered. It had been months since we talked, I'm surprised she wasn’t mad at me, though maybe she was and she was just hiding it well. “Yes.” I answer simply, waiting for the impending lecture.

“I should be surprised, but I'm not,” She remarks, and I can hear the smirk on her face.

“You know B/N said nearly the same thing!” I laughed lightly, but it soon died down when she didn't join in instead going completely quiet.

“You should have told me.” She says, venom on her tongue, but I know it’s out of worry. “No text, no call, not even a letter! I show up at your house. Not only are you not there I have to find out from your co-workers that you quit and haven’t been in contact with anyone. Did you quit because of those Winchesters? ‘Cause I swear to God I wil-“

“No!, quitting had nothing to do with them.” I cut her rant off, “Look Addie I'm sorry. I got so caught up in it all I didn’t think of telling anyone.” I sigh, leaving out the part I forgot I had people who cared about me—which is so stupid. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you or scare you. But that isn’t what I called for…”

Suddenly a sharp demanding knock sounds at my door. I don’t move for a second, watching it, “One sec, Addie” I place my phone down on the bed pulling back the heavy blankets. I tiptoe to the door, the rough carpet dragging on my feet. I take a deep breath preparing myself for the worst, I unlock the door, creaking it open just wide enough to see who is there.

Dean stands there, his eyes wide and his hair a little messy, still in his pajamas. A black shirt and some plaid pajama pants, though I figured he might have thrown those on before coming to my door- I knew he wasn’t foreign to sleeping with just a shirt and underwear on. I open the door further, “Are you okay? What happened?” I spew out.

“Get dressed. Dad called, ‘doesn't want us following him. He's going after the thing that killed Mom, says it’s a demon. He gave us a bunch of names and needs us to go investigate. Meet by the car.” He answers quickly. I stared at him, all of this was rushed, we barely got any sleep and we were already leaving rather quickly. He looks me over, nods, and then walks away back down the hall to his room, giving me no chance to ask if he was okay.

I closed the door a little shocked, making my way back to my phone and before it was even by my ear I heard the impatient click of her nails against some hard surface, “Now what” she huffed. Definitely mad at me. “I’ll have to call you back later” I sigh, “I need to go.”

“No you don’t get to just call me—“ She nearly yells but I cut her off again, “Addie I promise I’ll call you back.” The line goes silent for a beat and I wonder if she’s still there.

She sighs, “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m okay” I smiled sadly, yet even as the words passed my lips my stomach twisted itself, “I will call you.”

“Fine.” She huffs but she doesn't sound so convinced.

“I love you, Addie.” I say, and I mean it.

“I love you too. Stay safe, and call me!”

“Alright, just to double check all those names are couples?” I ask from the back seat of the Impala, copying notes down on a little notepad. “Three different couples. All went missing.” Dean confirms from the passenger seat. The darkness of the night cloaks us in its cold embrace.

“You said they were from all different states, Washington, New York, Colorado, and all went missing at the same time each year trying to travel across the country. But is it possible that it’s just a serial killer? Not to undermine your fathers findings.” I explain motioning my pen around as I speak, “I mean it is possible the suspect lives in Indiana, knows the roads well, and which way people go when road-tripping. Then being able to intercept them therefore fulfilling his or her urge. Then that kill can satisfy them till next year.”

“I guess, but they always disappeared in the second week of April. One year after another after another. That’s pretty weird.” Dean points out.

“Not necessarily, serial killers can have a certain connection to a date like an anniversary of something. Feeling only the need to do such an act during said time.” I ramble.

“Well, we’re still checking it out” Dean answers plainly, practically shutting down my theory. I guess it’s safer to check but it’s nighttime. I didn’t get any sleep, they barely got any sleep, and rushing over to Indiana in a 3-hour long car ride doesn't sound so fun if it turns out not to be a supernatural thing. “And this is the second week of April.” Sam remarks.

“Yep.” Dean nods.

“So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?” Sam asks, though it’s clear he knows the answer.

“Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obituaries Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.” Dean beams, flipping through the papers he had on the missing couples. He very clearly looked up to his Dad in some manner, even though he wasn’t deserving of such praise. I know Sam feels this way too, he never had an issue calling out John and he certainly can see all that’s wrong with how they grew up. The thing is I know Dean knew too, he was just trained to be loyal.

I watch Sam in the rearview mirror, his nostrils flaring in anger, his hands gripping the steering wheel harder until the knuckles turn white. He pulled the car off to the side of the road, sharply, my body jerking at the motion. “What are you doing?” Dean asks confused, straightening the way he sat.

“We’re not going to Indiana.” Sam says firmly.

“We’re not?” Dean replies, shock and amusement written on his features.

“No. We’re going to California.” Sam answers, “Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code.”

“Sam.” Dean warns.

“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.” Sam reasons, and I don’t disagree.

“Dad doesn’t want our help.” Dean argues, his voice getting louder.

“I don’t care.” Sam answers rather calmly.

“He’s given us an order.” Dean bites, using one of his favorite excuses.

“I don’t care.” He repeats himself, this time more firmly, “We don’t always have to do what he says.”

“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important.” Dean tries to explain.

“Please stop fighting, why don’t we work this job, put all our energy into it. Work it quickly. Then immediately head to California, both of you win” I offer, always the person trying to cool the fight down and offer some sort of solution. But even as the words leave my mouth I know I’m wrong, this argument is more than working a case or chasing demons. This is years of grief built up. Sam half turns to view me, his eyes are pained and I almost think he might be close to tears, “It won’t be enough. You said it yourself. My Dad moves fast, if we don’t head there right now we’ll miss him entirely.” He looks between both of us now as he adds, “But I’m talking one week here, to get answers. To get revenge.”

Dean sighs, “Alright, look, I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” Sam spits, nearly yelling. “How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”

Oh. This is old grief on top of new grief, he hasn’t coped with the loss of his girlfriend not that we could have expected him to. It’s too soon. These emotions are too raw, too new. Dean matches his brother yelling, “Dad said it wasn’t safe. For any of us. I mean, he knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away.”

“I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.” Sam argues, looking at his brother strangely.

“Yeah, it’s called being a good son!” Dean yells. The tension has exploded, the car falling quiet in its aftermath. My dislike for their father seemed to grow ten folds, to make your own child feel like that—

“Dean, that’s no—“ But before I can say anything more about it Sam exits the car. Slamming the door behind him. Dean and I get out of the car following him to the trunk where he unloads his things from. “You’re a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.” Dean yells.

“Dean!” I snap, “This has gone far enough, you don’t get to say things like that, he’s your brother! Both of you calm down, please.” I didn’t want Sam to be treated like this, not from his brother who I know cares about him. “No. It’s okay, Y/N” Sam says calmly, his movements slowing as he stares his brother down, “Is that what you really think?”

“Yes, it is.” Dean gives a single sharp nod.

“Well.” Sam shuts the trunk, “then this selfish bastard is going to California.” he puts his backpack on and starts to walk away.

No. This can’t be happening. “Dean,” I say desperately, he has to apologize or stop him so they can talk it out. This isn’t my place but I can’t watch this happen. He looks out at his brother, “Sam, come on. You’re not serious”

“I am serious.” Sam responds, still walking away.

“It’s the middle of the night!” Dean yells out, “Hey, we’re taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?”

Sam stops walking, turning around, “That’s what I want you to do.”

I let out a frustrated groan, “What the hell is wrong with you both?! Just talk it out, we can come to some sort of agreement or—or reason with each other.” I practically beg. Both their eyes fall to me but Dean just responds with, “He’s made up his mind” his eyes turn back towards his brother, “Goodbye Sam.”

I stand frozen, eyes wide, this is not happening.

Dean grabs hold of my wrist, his hand warm despite the cold night, practically dragging me to the passenger side of the car. He waits for me to sit and buckle myself before closing the door and making his way to the driver's side. He gets in, putting the car in drive.

I watch Sam turn back around and walk away in the car's side mirror. Dean must have been watching too because he slams his fist on the steering wheel, takes a deep breath, and then does it again and again. I place my hand over his just as it connects with the steering wheel again. “Dean…” I say softly, but it comes out more like a plea. His hand goes still under mine, and when I turn my face to look at him, his eyes are glossy.

He does not turn to look at me though, keeping his eyes straight ahead at the dark road. “Dean” I say weakly, letting out a shaky breath feeling my own eyes welling up, “please, stop the car.” He listens, slamming on the brakes, my body jolting at the sharp stop. He snaps his head towards me, “Why so you could leave too?!”

I lean away from him retracting my hand, placing it on my lap, “No” I say quietly. But his reaction made me want to leave, the tears in my eyes finally fell over, spilling down my cheeks, “Do not take your anger out on me.” He sighs, turning his face away from me, cursing.

“I know you don’t want to hear this…but you must” I begin to say, having to pause to clear my voice of its shakiness, “I care for you both a lot but I’m so sick of you guys constantly fighting over something stupid when all you have to do is talk.”

“That's easy for you to say.” Dean snaps back, still looking away from me.

I huff, annoyed, “See! You get all standoffish instead of dealing with your emotions and I know that's what you’re used to but you don't have to be that way around me of all people.” He goes quiet, with no snappy comeback or even a grunt of annoyance. His jaw clenches and I wonder if that's from anger, trying to hold back tears, or both. “What if were destined to always hate each other,” he says quietly, and I know he means him and Sam. “He doesn't hate you, and I know you don't feel that way either,” I answer softly, even when I know what he truly means. He turns his head towards me, a single tear rolling down his cheek, “Then why does he keep leaving?!” he says through gritted teeth the last word coming out as if he spit venom.

In truth, I can't possibly know what he feels. He raised Sam and was there every moment of every day. He saw him take his first step and say his first word, brought him to school, fed him, put him to bed, and kept him safe. I was more like Sam in that aspect, I was the youngest with an older brother who took care of me and looked out for me. Honestly more than our own Dad, maybe that’s why he and Dean got along together so well- a shared understanding.

So, no, I could not understand exactly what he felt, not even a fraction of it. But even despite that I reached my hand out carefully, my fingertips barely brushing his cheek before pausing giving him time to pull away and hide if he wanted to. He didn't. I cup his cheek, whipping away another tear that fell. His green eyes seemed softer then like his anger had diminished enough but still lay beneath the tears. I don't have all the answers, “I know it may not seem like it, but he isn't leaving you. He went off to college ‘cause he wanted a chance away from this life. Even now he is going in hopes of stopping what started this all, he’s going to come back…your brothers you can't escape each other even if you wanted to.”

It's not a solution, and I don't expect it to help. But all I can do is hope it eases something in him. He leans his face into my hand, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes a deep breath in.

In one quick motion, I unbuckle my seat belt with my free hand. He must have known what I was going to do because he removed his face from my hand only to put the car in park, release his seat belt, and turn his body so I could hug him properly. I close the distance between us so I can wrap my arms around his neck, his body immediately reacts to my movements. His head falls to the crook of my neck, his arms wrapping around my waist. He pulls my body impossibly closer and tighter.

His breathing gives him away, his warm breath coming out uneven against my neck a wetness forming against where he resides. I don't say anything about him crying, or anything at all, I just move my hand up and down his back in soothing motions, hoping to ease him.

I do not know how I managed it but after he finished crying I got him to switch seats with me so he could rest while I drove. I've never driven the Impala before, maybe this was him showing me he trusted me even though I already knew he did, or maybe it was tiredness overtaking him. But the drive was pretty straightforward and it was dark so there wasn’t a worry about other cars.

He managed to drift off, which I was envious of but I was more proud of being able to drive Baby to notice my exhaustion. I even got to play music that wasn’t the usual rock songs he liked to play, which I don’t have any problem with but a change is nice sometimes (even if I played it very quietly so he could rest).

Just as we pulled into the small town he woke up, grumbling a “good morning” before staying silent the rest of the time. He went on his phone at one point, pulling up the contacts but ultimately he did not call anyone. “Ok, ready?” I ask, shutting off the car after pulling into a spot.

“Yeah” He nods, his voice still a little gravely from sleep. I hand him back his keys before exiting the car, the pure feeling of accomplishment pulling over me. I drove Baby accident-free and made it to the destination! I’m so good!!

We walked up to the only person in sight, an older man sitting on a wooden rocking chair in front of a café. Maybe it was too early for anyone else to be out, it certainly felt too early to be up though I guess I never really went to sleep.

“Let me guess,” Dean points to the store's sign that reads Scotty’s Café, “Scotty.” He looked proud of his stupid joke if you could even call it that, a dumb grin on his face. Scotty looks up at the sign and then back at us looking unamused, “Yep,”

“Hi, my name’s John Bonham and this is Pat Phillips” Dean introduces us both, and I want to glare at him for using a member from a popular band's name but if Scotty doesn't know then the glaring would give it away.

But of course, our luck has long run out, “Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?” He looks at Dean pointedly then at me, “And his wife?” Now I really do glare at him, I didn’t know Pat Phillips was Bonham's wife! I barely knew Bonham was the drummer for Led Zeppelin, only remembering because of Dean rambling about it. Dean looks at me, eyes raised as if to silently say he didn’t think he would know. He turns back to Scotty, shock clear on his face, “Wow. Good. Classic rock fan.” Alright, he wasn’t even trying to deny it, great.

“What can I do for you, John?” Scotty asks anyway and I’m surprised he didn’t completely write us off. Dean takes out two pieces of paper from his pocket, unfolding the missing person's flyers. “I was wondering if, uh, you’d seen these people by chance.”

Scotty takes the flyers, barely studying them before answering, “Nope. Who are they?” Huh, that was a little weird, I would think he would want to think harder about it. I study the older man but his face reveals nothing, no fear in his eyes.

“They’re really close friends of ours, honestly we’re worried,” I explained while trying to test him, if he is responsible and he knows friends are looking for them and hasn’t given up he might crack a little. “They’ve been missing for a year now, passed somewhere through here. And we already asked around Salem and Scottsburg—“ But he doesn't let me finish my list, “Sorry.” He hands back the flyers to Dean, “We don’t get many strangers around here.”

Once more his eyes and face reveal nothing but still something about him is coming off weird.

“Scotty, you’ve got a smile that lights up a room, ‘anybody ever tell you that?” Dean tells him, earning a glare from the man himself. Dean chuckles, amusing himself at this point, “Never mind. See you around.”

I wait until we’re back in the car to say something, Dean taking his rightful place in the driver's seat, “Is it me or was that guy acting weird about this all?”

“Nah, he just doesn't have expressions,” Dean responds. I laughed, “That is not what I meant!”, I turned in my seat to face him, “Okay if someone came to you and was all like ‘my friend went missing and she’s been gone a long time and I think she passed through here do you know anything.’ Wouldn’t you really study the photo and try and think back, especially cause it’s a year ago. Scotty barely looked at the photo!”

He seems to contemplate what I said, “ ‘Could also just be a jerk.” he responds. I let out a frustrated sigh, “Dean.”

“Alright, you could be onto something sweetheart. We’ll keep asking around.”

Our next stop is a sort of Gas Station, all road trip essentials lining the walls from maps to mixed nuts. Aka the perfect place someone would stop at on their trip. “You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Dean asks the older couple working.

“Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?” The man who introduced himself as Harley responded.

“Yes, dear friends,” I answered.

“Did the guy have a tattoo?” A sweet blonde girl probably around our age asks, coming down the nearby stairs with a large box in her hand, her face just barely visible. “Yes, he did,” Dean responds. She puts the boxes on the counter and looks at the picture of the dark haired Vince then back up at the couple, “You remember? They were just married.”

Harley’s eyes suddenly widened making a little ‘oh’ sound, “You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here’ more than ten minutes.” Dean and I shared a look, now this guy wanted to suddenly remember. “You remember anything else?” Dean pushes further.

“I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town.” Harley answers, finally sharing some truth. These townspeople were strange. “Would you be able to point us the same way?” I ask him, eyeing him carefully.

“Sure.”

Dean drives down the long road, slower than usual, both of us looking for anything unusual or suspicious. There was undoubtedly something going on whether it was supernatural or not. But there wasn’t much near us, just trees and endless roads.

We pass by what looks to be an orchard, apples hanging from the lush trees.

If I was kidnapping and possibly killing people I would choose somewhere along this Interstate, it was practically dead and no one would suspect anyone driving here even late at night. My thoughts are cut off by a violent buzzing noise coming from just behind me, most likely in the back seat. I turn to Dean, giving him a confused look, he turns his head to the back of the car looking instead of the road. “Dean. Road” I remind him, his eyes going back where they belong.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, shifting myself so that I was kneeling on the seat. I lean over the back seat, having to drop down low to reach his duffle bag, the top of the seat digging into my gut. My ass is definitely sticking up in the air and most likely close to Dean, but I ignore the embarrassment of that idea as I shuffle through his bag. I move one of his shirts around, finding the cause of the loud noise, “It’s your EMF” I call out hoping he can hear me even with my head still buried in the little space between the floor of the car and the backseat. I grab the box, the medal heavy in my hand.

I lift myself up and back to my seat half turned and sitting on my legs, it continues to buzz violently, the meter blaring to the red. “‘Think it’s the orchard” he announces, pulling the car off to the side of the road. We venture into the trees.

The ground was soft beneath my shoes, a light morning dew still clinging to the grass. If this was any other day or occasion I’d say it’s a rather nice orchard but the EMF has not stopped, and I think if it could go any further red it certainly would be there.

The trees were all lined up, apples scattered about the ground and a potent scent of rotten fruit following it. From where we pulled over it wasn’t hard to find the middle of the orchard, the trees cut down in almost a circle, except some paths that broke away in various directions.

A tall post stood in the middle, a creepy scarecrow on it. It looked rather human and full rather than stuffed with straw. Its face looked like a mask with stitches adorning it and hollow eyes, greasy long hair flowing from beneath his fedora. The only scarecrow-like thing about him was the fact he was tied to a wooden post and had a sort of jumper with patches on it, though the added black trench coat contradicted this. And in his hand was a sickle, what was meant to be used for agriculture only made him that much creepy.

Its head was leaned down, and looking up at it made it only seem like he was staring down at us with those empty eyes. “Dude, you're fugly.” Dean says out loud and I almost expect the thing to move or respond, but it doesn't. “Maybe you should say sorry to him.” I practically mumble to Dean. If it came to life I didn’t want a target on his back for insulting it, or mine if it thought I was guilty by association.

“Why would I say sorry?” he counters.

“So that he doesn't kill you if it comes to life!”

“I think it’d kill us either way”

Rationally I knew he was right, but the thought of something like a doll or in this case a scarecrow coming to life creeped me out a little too much, “Good point, but he is horrifying.”

“Yeah, horrifyingly ugly” He chuckles at his own joke, a stupid smile on his face. I try to hide my own laughing, not wanting to encourage him.

“I think I see something,” He murmurs. He moves back, turning to the closest tree with a ladder against it. He picks it up as if it weighs nothing, placing it right next to the scarecrow. He climbs it until he’s at eye level with the thing. I watch his eyes fall to the hand that held the sickle, his gaze at its wrist. Its sleeve ripped a bit revealing leathered “skin” and a sort of design.

I wrack my brain for any customs or cultures that decorate scarecrows beyond just its clothing and face, but I couldn’t come up with anything. Why would anyone put a design on a scarecrow's wrist?

Dean pulls out a paper from the inside of his jacket, unfolding it swiftly before placing it near the thing, comparing the two. “Look who has a nice tat.” he says, turning the paper down so I could see. He held Vince’s missing poster, the young man holding a mug in his hand the perfect pose to see his tattoo. Detailed ink with all sorts of shapes I could even begin to describe, I look back up at the scarecrows tattoo. The two are the exact same, far too alike to be any sort of coincidence.

“Nice tat indeed.”

We immediately got in the car and turned around back to the town. Something was going on and someone was causing it. Now Dean pulls the car into the local gas station. Turning it off and exiting, I nearly stay put in the passenger seat until I see the same blonde girl from before walking up to the car. We needed answers and she seemed to be the only one willing to help.

I exit the car, keeping the door open as I lean my arms on the roof of the car. “You’re back” she greeted, smiling. “Never left.” He replies smoothly.

“Still looking for your friends?” She asks, acknowledging us both. “Yup, call it stubbornness or what have you but we aren’t given up.” I respond, still pushing the same agenda as before. “I’d call that a good friend,” she smiles.

I don’t think she’s involved in all this, she’s willing to answer our questions when no one else was and she seemed to genuinely care. If she was involved then she was quite the actor. “You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily?” Dean asks her, nodding his head towards the car. The nameplate necklace she wore came into view as she grabbed the pump and began to fill the tank. That’s how he knew her name.

“Did you grow up here?” I ask, starting back up conversation.

“I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in.” She explains shortly.

“They’re nice people.” Dean replies plainly. She nods as she speaks, “Everybody’s nice here.”

“So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?” Dean shrugs, nonchalantly.

“Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it.” she pauses for a moment, “I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed.”

Dean turns his head towards me, giving me a look. This definitely was weird, I mean how could every town around them be failing but not here?Were they making sacrifices to the scarecrow? It would make sense considering its tattoo. Dean turns back around to Emily, “Hey, you been out to the orchard? ‘You seen that scarecrow?” We were thinking the same thing.

“Yeah, it creeps me out.” She answers her nose scrunching. “You can say that again” I laugh, “Do you know who owns it?”

“I don’t know. It’s just always been there.” She shrugs.

He nods to something behind her, I turn my gaze to it, my eyes landing on a red van parked by a garage, “That your aunt and uncle’s?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “Customer. Had some car troubles.” That’s a little too convenient, “Is it a couple by any chance? A guy and a girl?” I ask, worried that they might be the town's next victims.

She nods even as her face twists with confusion, “Mmhmm.”

As soon as the Impala's tank was filled, and Emily gestured toward the couple's location, we wasted no time heading straight there. Dean opens the glass door for me, the little welcome bell ringing above us. I walk in first, immediately being hit with the sweet smell of baked goods, the culprit of it being a thick piece of apple pie that Scotty delivered to a couple sitting by the window.

“Oh, hey, Scotty. Can I get a coffee, black?” Dean greets, walking in behind me, adding “And a green tea…actually while you’re at it some of that pie too.” I have to hold back the smile that wants to escape onto my face, he was being slightly annoying on purpose which is proved further when Scotty gives him a nasty look before walking away. But beyond that I’m surprised Dean knew what I wanted, yes I drank tea quite often but how did he know I was feeling that flavor in particular?

He moves to sit at a table right next to the couple, I sit in the chair next to him trying to come up with a conversation starter for the people only a table away. I mean how do you say ‘hey you’re in danger! haha, please leave town’ to someone without them thinking you're actually insane? I am pulled out of my thoughts at the feeling of my chair moving, a soft scratching noise below it. Immediately I see Deans hand at the side of my chair, pulling me closer to him without saying or looking at me.

I try to ignore his strange antics and the butterflies that flutter in the depths of my stomach at his movement as he talks to the dark haired couple, “How ya doin’?” God for someone whose usually so smooth he was being so awkward. They share a weird look clearly looking uncomfortable before waving and smiling. But their uninterest in starting a conversation with strangers is very obvious as the girl leans closer to her boyfriend placing her arm up to lean her head on as if to block us out.

“Just passing through?” Dean continues, ignoring their reactions. “Road trip.” The girl answers plainly, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.

“Hm.” Dean hums his hand suddenly finding my thigh. My heart lurches, my leg twitching slightly at the sudden movement but he just gives me a little squeeze before readjusting his hold. Splaying his warm hand against my thigh, his fingers hooking onto the inside of my leg as he pulls them apart slightly, the gap just big enough to hold my thigh comfortably. He gives me another squeeze as if he was testing the feel of me again…oh god.

My brain seemed to short circuit, any logical thoughts I had turning into a mass space of blankness and static. I swallowed roughly, my heart beating out of my chest and the butterflies in my stomach flying frantically in warmth. This was just for a cover, if we acted as a couple too then they might feel more comfortable and inclined to talk with us, I try to reason with myself. But god when did my face get all warm? Stay focused Y/N, stay focused, I repeat to myself in my head. This wasn’t the time. Can’t be thinking of my feelings for him or the fact that this was only making me feel more desperate for him. Stay focused.

“Us too” He adds, and I have to think for a second what he’s talking about…Oh yes, we are also on a road trip, yeah.

Scotty walks over with a pitcher of something brownish orange, maybe it was apple cider considering this town clearly has a large supply of it. He moves right past us, refilling the couples cups, “I’m sure these people want to eat in peace.” he scolds us.

“Just a little friendly conversation.” Dean smiles up at the grumpy man who begins to walk away, “Oh, and that coffee and tea, too, man. Thanks.” Scotty just stares at him, the scowl on his face deepening, but he doesn't say anything as he walks away fully. “So, what brings you to town?” I ask softly, a sweet smile on my face in hopes of erasing the awkwardness in the air.

The girl answers, “We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives.”

“Aw, really!” I respond trying to sound amused.

The guy answers this time, “Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us.”

“That’s really sweet” I nod with a smile even as concern eats at me. They were definitely going to be the next victims. But I’m also terribly confused, I have no idea what he was talking about. I'm guessing a broken brake line means you won’t be able to stop the car but I didn’t know it could leak…

“Yeah.” The man nods trying to go back to his food.

All at once it hits me, I nearly want to kick myself for not thinking about it right away. I want to blame it on Dean's hand placement but it was most likely my lack of sleep because I was in fact enjoying his hand on my thigh…

This small town in Indiana was practicing Pagan rituals, and as much as I hate to admit it learning about Pagans was one of my favorite things to do.

“So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?” Dean asks them.

“Sundown.”

It was common in Paganism to sacrifice something or someone to the gods. It was a time where they didn’t understand why certain things happened like crops dying, so they blamed this on not respecting the Gods enough. When the real cause could have been for a number of reasons from lack of water to not crop rotating…

“Really.” Dean pauses for a minute, “To fix a brake line?” He receives a nod. “I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge you anything.” He offers.

…However in terms of supernatural beings when these sacrifices were made it did work, whether or not it was the Gods “cursing” them or just not understanding agriculture. Either way it did work, the gods answered, and the bigger the sacrifice the bigger the payout which is why they typically did human sacrifices, sometimes even on a mass scale.

“You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it.” The girl replies, looking nervously at her boyfriend.

“Are you sure?” I chime in, “He really is good, I mean you should see the level of care he puts into his own car. ‘Keeping it all good even though it’s decades older than him, he even keeps my old car in check.” I knew with every word I was stroking his ego, but it was true. Beyond his own car I can count on two hands the amount of times he helped with my old Volkswagen Beetle, he’s probably the reason why it still works.

In the corner of my eye I can see his cocky sexy grin, he squeezes my thigh once more and my thoughts fizzle out again as a kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in my gut. Jesus Christ, Dean Winchester will be the death of me without knowing.

“Yeah we’re sure” The girl insists.

“Sure.” Dean pauses, his smile dropping, “You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night.” I guess he figures they won’t listen any other way. The couple exchanged a look, “I’m sorry?”

Dean leans in closer, “I know it sounds strange, but, uh—you might be in danger.”

The man finally snaps, looking annoyed, “Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean says disappointingly, "You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you’d just buy right into it.” The couple looks at him strangely.

The bell above the door rings and I figure we don’t have much time left, “Look we aren’t trying to bother you and ruin your day, okay, I’m sorry.” I start, looking back at the Sheriff who had walked in. I lean in, speaking just low enough for them to hear, “But you really are in danger, for the last couple of years couples have gone missing this time of year repeatedly withou—“

“I’d like a word with you both.” The sheriff practically booms. I go quiet giving the couple a warning look both to say to listen to what I said and to not bring anything up now, they look scared and hesitant.

“Come on. I’m having a bad day already, ‘m just tryna make it better with my girlfriend” Dean reasons, I know it’s a lie but the way the word slipped so easily from his lips made my heart flutter.

“You know what would make it worse?” The sheriff replies. Dean releases his hold on my thigh, a tingling feeling taking its place. We got up and followed the man outside then following his orders, he was going to follow us out of town and we weren’t allowed back.

We drive down the interstate, both knowing we would turn back once it was clear. But for now we trudge toward passing by a sign that says ‘Thanks for visiting Burkittsville.’ I check the side mirror, the sheriff making a U-turn, heading back to town. Great.

“Should we find a motel nearby and return at night?” I ask, knowing the couple wouldn’t have a car to leave with ‘till sundown.

“Yeah, you need sleep” He hums. I wonder if he’s saying that because he knows I haven't slept at all. “Unfortunately I will not be sleeping ‘cause I have a very good idea on what’s going on and I wanna research further” I answer, opening up the glovebox to pull out the map that resided there.

I unfold it, tracking down Indiana and then the small town we just left, following the colored lines. “I think if we stay straight we’ll be at a rest stop in about 15 mins” I mumble, hopefully reading it right.

“Anyways!” I place the map down in my lap, “I’m very sure this town is sacrificing the couples to a Pagan God.”

“‘Thinking the same,” He answers.

“Okay, good. Now I'm not 100% sure i’m right on which one it is ‘cause there’s a lot of agricultural Gods as well as Gods of the woods, but the second I can search it up I’ll confirm it.” I ramble, talking with my hands.

“To be honest, sweetheart, ‘don’t know much about Norse Gods except the basics.”

“Oh don’t you worry, I got this” I beam.

I grumble for the fifth time typing different wording into the search bar. I want to scream as the page turns blank, the only words on the screen being ‘No Results.’

“What is it?” Dean asks from where he lays in his bed his fathers journal open, looking for anything on Norse Gods.

“Somehow there is nothing on Vanir Gods and when I mean nothing I mean nothing!” I get up from my bed walking the short distance to his, I climb on it putting my legs beneath me. I turned my laptop towards him, showing him the screen, “See!”

His eyebrows scrunch up looking just as confused as I feel, “I know we aren’t in the town anymore but do you think it’s somehow related?” I ask.

“Maybe. We aren’t that far from Burkittsville” He answers, taking my laptop and searching up ‘Books about Vanir Gods’ but again the same message pops up ‘No Results.’

He types in ‘Books about Norse Gods’ a couple searches pop up the main one being a thick book only available in a college in Burkittsville. “That’s so strange.” I mumble, I mean how could they be interfering with the internet.

“If they can make sacrifices to a god I’m guessing they could mess with google of all things. We’ll go there later” Dean responds and I’m sure he means after making sure the couple is safe. He closes my laptop, “You should sleep, I’ll wake you”

I studied him for a moment, and he was right. I should sleep, it sounds wonderful actually. I nod getting up, I don’t even bother changing into comfortable clothes or even taking off my bra I just crawl underneath the covers of my bed. “Good night, Dean.” But it was hardly close to night time.

He smiles, “ ‘Night baby.”

Dean sped down the interstate, the sun was nearly down and we would have been there on time if not for all the semi trucks in the truck stop not knowing how to exit. You really think it wouldn’t be so hard.

Continuing by the vast orchard, we scanned for a red van parked on the side, hoping to beat them there.

After some more driving, we eventually stumbled upon the deserted car, devoid of anyone. He stopped the car short even as we still had multiple feet between us and the vacant van.

He turns the car off and I meet him by the trunk, he hands me a shotgun, “Go through here, cut ‘em off--get in front” he rattles off the plan as he cocks his own gun. I nod, cocking my gun before shutting the trunk as he takes the lead.

I catch up to him, running at his side, passing through each tree as my shoes crush the fallen apples with a satisfying crunch.

I squint my eyes, the dark haired couple too far away to get there before the dark figure of the scarecrow does. It was a clear distance away, I could bring us there in a moment's time. I’ve practiced this sort of distance before, it was doable, and nothing like the asylum. “Get ready to shoot 45 degrees to your left” I shouted, reaching a hand out to grasp Dean's shoulder. He meets my eyes with a look of determination hard in his irises. I focus back ahead on the target, forcing my energy there.

The air ripples around us even as we continue to run, in a blink of an eye we’re in front of the couple. A loud shot rings out, Dean shoots the thing square in the chest. But all it does is stumble back before it continues to walk forward.

Its head was tilted slightly, that greasy hair dangling on his shoulders, the sickle gripped tightly in its leathery hand. “Get back to your car!” I yell behind me, “Go!” I looked behind me for a split second, they were running and we weren’t too far from the orchards clearing.

Almost at the same time Dean and I start walking backward away from the horrifying thing. I raise my shotgun up, shooting it right in its chest as Dean cocks his gun again. But these salt bullets were doing nothing and was hardly buying us time, “Get ready to run!” Dean orders as he shoots the thing again.

Not needing to tell me twice I shift my footing, running towards the clearing right after the couple. Beyond Dean's own shoes hitting the ground hard next to me I could hear the subtle click of its boots walking the ground. Now I know how every character in Halloween felt as Myers went after them.

I do the thing that you should never do in a horror movie and turn my head to see how close the scarecrow was. It couldn’t be more than 10 feet away, “Screw this” I mumble, twisting my footing again so I could walk backwards as it came towards us. I uncomfortably hold the gun in the crook of my arm as I extend my hands forward, effortlessly calling upon my abilities as I shoot out pure energy from my hands.

The scarecrow goes flying what seems like 100 or more feet, landing harshly on its back. I want to celebrate and get all cocky but this was dealing with Norse Gods and I didn’t particularly feel like getting on their nerves at the moment.

I make it to the clearing, my chest heaving from the running and use of powers. Man, water would be good right now.

A familiar arm wraps around my shoulder, the crook of his arm touching my neck as he brings me into his side. His chest heaves too, “Good job.” The praise makes my heart swell but the sweet moment is cut off by the man in the couple panting, “What—what the hell was that?” He points between the orchard and me. Double yikes.

“Don’t ask.” Dean responds.

We sit in the Impala just outside of town so we wouldn’t technically get in trouble.

After helping the couple officially leave, thank god, we went back to the motel. It would be hours until the college opened so we really just had to wait. We ate at some all night diner before showering and sleeping for a couple more hours. We woke early, I threw on some low rise black jeans and a fitted black & gray long sleeve baseball tee, heading out to grab some coffee before heading back close to town to wait.

Dean had called Sam, placing his phone on speaker and positioning it in the middle of the dashboard so we could both hear and speak. He called his brother on his own accord to talk about the “hunt” and I didn’t dare say anything about it knowing he would just brush it off. The call was certainly more than just letting him know how the hunt was going. “The scarecrow climbed off its cross?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I’m tellin’ ya. Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun Town.” Dean muses, taking a sip of coffee from his cup.

“It didn’t kill the couple, did it?” Sam responded concerned.

“God no” I scuff.

“We can cope without you, you know.” Dean adds.

“So, something must be animating it. A spirit.” Sam theorizes.

“No, it’s more than a spirit. It’s a god. A Pagan god, anyway.” Dean answers.

“What makes you say that?”

I answer this time, “There’s a lot that points to it, from annual cycle killings to the choice of victims. And I’m sure you know human sacrifices were common in Paganism especially when it comes to fertility. There were even mass sacrifices to even protect them and or help them with wars.”

I begin to speak with my hands again, getting more animated as I get excited, “And according to a local all the towns around them are failing in multiple degrees especially in agriculture, while Burkittsville remains flourishing largely in their apple department. As seen not only through their extensive orchard but their numerous apple products, they practically gloat upon it.”

“And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin’ ‘em up like a Christmas turkey.” Dean adds in.

“The last meal. Given to sacrificial victims.” Sam acknowledges.

Dean answers, “Yeah, we’re thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god.”

“So, a god possesses the scarecrow…” Sam starts, Dean adding in with their usual weird finishing each other's sentences, “And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won’t wilt, and disease won’t spread.”

“Do you know which god you’re dealing with?” Sam asks.

“Well, there’s hundreds of Gods.” I answer, “But it will most likely align with Norse Paganism which are broken up into two sections one of them being Vanir Gods. From what I remember they’re Gods of fertility, wealth, wisdom and two other things. I don’t remember too much and unfortunately there’s an issue with the internet so I can’t even confirm my theory.”

Sam laughs, “What do you mean issue?”

“Long story,” Dean responds, “But we’re on our way to a local community college, they have a book on Norse Gods there. You know, since we don’t have our geek boy to figure out the issue with the internet crap.”

Sam laughs again, “You know, if you’re hinting you need my help, just ask.”

“I’m not hinting anything.” Dean replies quickly with a fake annoyance to his voice, “Actually, uh—“ He looks at me as if he isn’t sure what to say, I nod my head encouragingly, “I want you to know….I mean, don’t think….”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, too.” Sam says seriously, seemingly knowing what his brother was struggling to say.

Dean looks to his hands cradling his coffee cup to straight ahead through the windshield, “Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.” I don’t try to bite back my smile, he wasn’t looking to begin with, either way I was proud of him.

“Are you serious?” Sam asks, probably never expecting to hear that.

“You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—“ He cuts himself off, sighing, “anyway….I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy.”

“I don’t even know what to say.” Sam says quietly.

“Say you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“Call me when you find Dad.”

“Ok.” Sam responds, though he sounds upset, "Bye, Dean.”

He collects his phone from the dashboard, hanging up. He catches me staring, “What?” I don’t answer, just smile at him, “No. Don’t give me that happy go lucky sweet look.”

“Oh come on!” I laugh, “That was really sweet of you Dean! So can’t a girl be proud of her boy.”

He rolls his eyes, placing his coffee in the cupholder before crossing his arms across his chest, but his face gives him away a light pink gracing his cheeks. “You are a sweetie pie” I declare, placing a hand on his shoulder. He removes one of his arms from their own hold, placing a warm hand on top of mine, grasping it gently to remove it, “I’m not.” he bites. His tough boy act was so cute.

“If you say so” I shrug, the smile on my face giving away the fact that this wasn’t me giving up on the fact he was a total softy. He turns his head away, facing his window, mumbling something incoherent.

I want to start skipping into the library, who knew a community college would have such a nice one. Though to be fair I would say any library was nice as long as it was in good shape. I make my way to the librarian's desk, “Hello!” I greet, my excitement getting the best of me, “Could you point us to the books on Paganism? Or even just Norse mythology?”

The old woman at the desk looks at me a little strangely, maybe I came off too strong. But her expression contorts into a small smile, “One of our dear old professors would have those sorts of books, lucky for you sweetie I think he’s free right now. I can just give him a little call.”

I look back at Dean, who stands a little bit behind me, he shrugs, I guess it wouldn’t hurt talking to a professor about this. Especially if it meant looking at that book.

I turn back to the old librarian, “Yes please.” But she already placed the phone back in its holder, “He’ll be right down.” Oh. Okay, this woman works fast. “You can take a seat there, it’ll be a moment” she points to just behind us at a mostly empty table. “Thank you!” I smile.

“It’s not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology.” Professor Williams says, as he leads us to his classroom.

“Yeah, well, call it a hobby.” Dean responds, not sounding all that amused.

“Well what are you looking for in particular?” The older man asks.

“Uh, local lore, maybe” Dean answers, looking at me to jump in at any time but I don’t know if I want to put all my eggs in one basket. We had to choose who we could trust here, and maybe I shouldn’t have been so forward with the nice librarian but doing so made getting to the book easier. I hope. “I’m afraid Indiana isn’t really known for its Pagan worship.” He answers.

I can already feel this being a painfully slow lead to the answer, “You know, actually,” I began, “I was interested in the Vanir Gods. It struck me the other day and when I can’t get an easy answer for something I go digging.” The professor stops in his tracts, turning to face me, “Very well. I was not expecting to hear such a clear topic.”

I laugh a little uncomfortably, “I just like to learn.”

We follow him down the rest of the long hallway into his classroom. A small room with desks and chairs lined in order while a large whiteboard rested on the long wall. He beckons us over to his desk, a thick and long brown leather bound book lying there, “Well, let’s see.” He leafs through a couple of pages seeking what seems to be the chapter he’s looking for, “Ah ha, there we are” he declares, turning the book towards us.

I read the first page quickly, breezing through information I already knew. I turn to the next page only to be met with a picture of a scarecrow-like thing on a post in a field with farmers surrounding it. I read out loud the text just below the image, “The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female.”

I looked up from the book catching Dean's eyes, this was definitely it. “This particular Vanir that’s energy sprung from the sacred tree?” Dean asks, gaze flipping to the man in question.

“Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic.” He answers not all that helpfully.

“So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it’d kill the god?” Dean questions further. He’s really just putting it all out there. The professor laughs, “Son, these are just legends we’re discussing.”

“Yes of course” I fake laugh along with him, “My, uh, friend here just loves the hypotheticals, you know?”

“I do,” Dean nods seriously. The professor just looks at us strangely. God I really hope he just thinks we’re weird people. “Listen, thank you very much.” Dean says, holding out his hand. The professor takes it, giving what seems like a firm handshake before offering one to me, “Yes, thank you so much,” I say sincerely, taking his hand for a single awkward handshake.

I follow Dean to the door, an odd feeling settling itself in my gut as if something was about to happen. He opens the door and the feeling spikes, my heart jumping at the simple action. What the hell. I want to ignore it, push it to the back of mind and chalk it up to just random anxiety. But I can’t, genuine fear twists itself around within me, clawing at the walls of my stomach as if to warn me. Just as my foot breeches the hallway everything in me screams to turn around.

I listen to my body, turning around as I take a half step back, a large book only inches from my face. A small breathy squeak leaves my lips as I duck, a loud bang and tumble coming from beside me. This was a trap.

Using my bent knees as leverage as well as the attackers stumbling at missing me, I latch on to their forearms pushing up and out still holding on tightly as I lift my leg and kick. My foot connects with the soft expanse of the person's stomach, letting go of his arms at the same time. It was no doubt the professor as he was the only one in the room with us. I watch him stumble backwards, knocking into his desk roughly.

My brain works quickly, adrenaline rushing through my veins. The bang and tumble I heard must have been someone attacking Dea—I twisted my upper body to the right, catching the sheriff's wrist before the blunt of his gun could hit me too. I didn’t need to look to know he already got Dean. God this town was crooked.

I bring his arm down closer to my level, twisting it in an attempt to put it behind him, but he uses his free hand to left hook me, his fist connecting with my cheekbone. I let go of his arm at the action, my hand instinctively going to my cheek that stinged until something cold clinked onto my wrist. I knew it was handcuffs but my eyes went to my wrist anyways just as he clicked into place the other half of the cuff.

He looked smug, as if he had won. He must have been stupid. Not that it changed much but my hands were cuffed in front of me, magic aside it couldn’t have stopped me. I tilt my head slightly, giving him a ‘seriously?’ look before kicking him where the sun doesn't shine, immediately he doubles over holding onto his crotch with teary eyes. I guess you could add assaulting a police officer to my list of crimes, he may have been a sheriff but it probably still counted.

He would be down at least for a minute or more so I turned back to the professor who seemed to be stalking closer with the same book raised as if he was trying to kill a bug. The second my eyes landed on him he stopped moving, I foiled his plan. “Could you stop with the book?!” I exclaim. He seems to contemplate what I said, his eyes slipping from me to something behind me. He was not good at this fighting thing.

Thin but strong arms wrap around me, forcing my arms to my chest. I flailed around trying to shake the guy off, I didn’t want to use my magic yet. The less they knew the better. “Watch, she’s a kicker” the professor warns. “I know” the somewhat familiar voice of the sheriff huffed from behind me, his chest rumbling with each word. His chest was rising and falling fast, I wonder if he fully recovered from my crotch attack or if he was pushing through.

All at once I stop flailing, a smirk making its way on my face, and before anyone can do or say anything more I bite down hard on the sheriff's hand, my neck bending at a weird angle to reach him. He yells letting me go to hold his wounded limb.

I take a couple steps away from both of them, “I’m also a biter,” I muse. I look between both men, neither of them seeming to know what to do. They hadn’t expected this. “Which one of you wants to go next?” I point between either of them, the handcuffs rattling with my movement, “ ‘cause I can go all day, baby.”

They look at each other, worried in their eyes. The sheriff's throat bobbed with a hard auditable gulp. “Aw, don’t tell me you’re scared” I tease, smirking viciously, I was having too much fun with this.

The sheriff reaches slowly for his gun, the one he must have put back after I kicked him. I watch him do it, he’d pull it but wouldn’t shoot and ask me to stand down or come with him. He expects me to be afraid of the gun, at the prospect of being shot which is why he assumes it would work. He pulls it out, holding it firmly out in front of him aiming for my chest, “Get on your knees. Hands behind your head!” he yells. How predictable.

The smirk on my face only deepens, I lift an eyebrow at him, “If you wanted me on my knees so badly you could’ve just asked.” I was never usually so flirty or straightforward, but this was just so fun. I knew I was getting cocky. Maybe I was hanging around Dean too much. “Knees now!” He yells again. At this point he was just feeding me these easy openings. A laugh escapes my lips, I must look like a psychopath.

He readjusts the gun in his hand, his finger scooting back towards the trigger, but he couldn’t shoot, not when they wanted to use Dean and I as sacrifices. “Last chance!” He warns. Last chance indeed.

I catch my eyes flaring purple in his shiny revolver, a look of horror and confusion apparent on his face. A look I was used to, and as much as it normally would upset me I could use it now. The air fizzled around me, maybe I was getting better at this, in a blink of an eye I was right behind him. I kick the back of his knee, the man buckling under his own weight, his gun going off. The bullet hits the ceiling light right above where I stood only moments before.

Shards of glass fall, the light flickering for dominance before eventually going dark. I easily grasp the gun from his hand, turning the safety back on before sliding it across the floor out of the room. Without a plan to actually hurt the man, I used what he gave me, pressing the linked chains of the handcuffs to his neck as I brought the back of his head to my stomach.

He grunts against my hold his hands trying to pry the chain off as his eyes search the professors for help, but his partner backs away hands up in defense. I loosen up my hold, I wasn’t trying to severely hurt the guy or kill him for that matter. “‘Had enough?” I ask, mostly teasing.

Suddenly a soft plush material is pressed to my face, I move to fight or teleport away but my limbs suddenly feel too heavy and my eyes begin to droop. My body feels like it’s falling even as I stand in place, I think. My eyes begin to flutter close, my legs giving out on me. The world turns black.

My head feels fuzzy. My eyes are too heavy to open just yet. It smelt bad, a musty smell combined with a farm-like smell. The ground was comfortable.

I try to open my eyes but they flutter shut again. Someones calling my name, they’re too far away…need to come closer. My head was pounding.

Something suddenly brushes into my hair repeatedly. Even still half gone, fear spikes in me. My eyes shoot open, my upper body jolting up into a seated position. Familiar hands hold my shoulders as I sway, the room seeming to move back and forth, “It's okay, you’re okay” Dean says soothingly. I stare at him, his features becoming less and less blurry as I blink.

He cups my face gently, his fingers barely brushing against my skin. He seems to study me, most likely noting the bruise that is undoubtedly forming where I was hit. His thumb brushes over my wounded cheekbone gently, yet even so I wince sucking in a breath between my teeth. “Sorry” he mumbles, meeting my eyes. I hum, my tongue feeling too heavy to utter a word. “What happened to you?” he asks softly.

I swallow, trying to force my tongue to work enough to answer but my words still come out too quietly, “You went down first. I fought, but I think someone else came. They covered my mouth with a thingy, maybe they used, um, what is it called?” My thoughts felt all jumbled still, fog covering the expanse of my brain. My head was killing me too much to think straight. He practically scowls, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips turned down in a frown, “Chloroform” he answers. I smile weakly, “yeah that.”

I want to lay down. The room was still spinning, my head hurt. This was embarrassing, I had gotten all confident before– feeling invincible only to be drugged. I remove Dean's hands from my face, holding them instead as I place them on his lap. I looked around us, the room might be moving but it was obvious enough it was some sort of basement. No, a cellar. It was dark and empty, except for the straws of hay lying around. And just across from us was a small staircase up to what seemed like cellar doors. “It's locked,” Dean says, noticing my stare. Of course it is.

But if I could just right my mind, clear the fog, I could get us out easy peasy. Almost as if I willed it, the cellar doors creek open. The sunlight floods through, I try to block it with my hand, the sudden light worsening my headache if that was even possible. I need Advil. Dean lets go of my hand getting up quickly, just watching the quick movement makes me want to vomit. I blink slowly, following suit, with a lot of stumbling I make it to my feet even as it feels like the room is pulling me down.

Four jerks stand just outside the cellar, Harley and Stacy, Scotty, and the Sheriff. Harley moves close to the stairs as if he's about to descend them before getting abruptly stopped by the Sheriff, “I wouldn’t, she's feisty.” Dean laughs at that, my assault on the man very apparent by the various bruises he displayed. I would smirk or laugh too if it didn't feel like I was using all my energy to keep me standing. Harley knocks the Sheriff's hand off but makes no move to get closer, “She’s also still drugged” he bites. “Wrong,” I pointed a finger up, feeling more like a drunk as I spoke, “This would be the side effects or aftermath of Chloroform.” All four of them looked at me blankly, maybe I was wrong. I don't know.

“I hope you both know this is for the common good,” Stacy nods. I furrow my eyebrows, “Thanks for the preaching, lady. It really eases the brain into all this sacrificial nonsense.”

“That's enough” she replies rather calmly before nodding to the others. They begin to close the cellar doors, darkness enveloping us. I sat down rather quickly, landing on my butt harshly, “I'm surprised you didn't say anything snarky to them.”

“You were more entertaining” He answers with a half shrug. He tries the cellar door again but of course it's locked, he huffs moving to sit next to me.

I lean my head on his shoulder. He speaks softly now so as not to disturb my throbbing head, “Where do you think this important tree would be?” He was referring to the tree we would have to destroy in order to kill the scarecrow, and it was a good question. “Hm” I hum, “It would be the oldest tree here, probably the most protected. Maybe the first immigrants brought it over here, so it’s wherever they would plant it. I would say in the middle.” He nods and I swear I could hear the gears in his head turning.

The cellar doors open again, Stacy coming into view “It’s time.” I want to ask why they didn't just take us the first time they opened the doors but I guess waiting to die a little later was better than sooner. I remove my head from Dean's shoulder, do we fight? It would be 4 against 2 except I wasn't completely okay. But we could fight, right? I mean we always make it out, we always wind up fine.

Harley and the Sheriff come down the stairs, the Sheriff watches me carefully as he lifts Dean forcefully up. Harley doesn't show any remorse as he grips my forearm tightly, lifting me to my feet before grabbing my other arm roughly holding them behind my back. I struggle against him attempting to step hard on his foot as he forces me up the stairs behind Dean.

Real fear twirled itself around me, were we not going to fight?

They drag us forward deeper into the orchard, I dig my heels into the dirt trying to slow it down as much as I can. I’m scared. I don't want to die. I don't want to be sacrificed to some god. Please. Please. My headache needs to go away, let me use my powers without pain. I struggle against him more, trying to let my magic seep into anything around me but immediately my headache worsens by ten folds. I grunt in frustration, trying to shake the older man off further but he only tightens his grip. I hope bruises won't come from it, not that it would matter if I died today. I close my eyes tightly, digging my heels in further, please. Please. Anything, please.

Harley pushes me forward effortlessly. I don't want to die. Please. Please.

The ground begins to rumble, shaking violently. Apples tumble from the trees hitting the ground with a bunch of thumps. My heart beats wildly in my chest as if it's trying to jump out and run away. His grip loosens on me as he freezes in place, “It's angry at us!” Stacy yells covering her head. I wiggle out of Harleys hold, taking a couple steps away as my legs wobble like the ground. A familiar click locks into place, I come face to face with a gun, “It’s not causing this. It's her” the Sheriff accuses.

“Dont touch her” Dean yells, struggling against Scotty's hold. The Sheriff must have passed him on to hold me at gunpoint for the second time today. “I'm not doing anything” I spit, the shaking ground growing more intense.

“Your eyes are glowing again” he states. “What are you talking about?” I nearly yell, I think I would know if I was using my own abilities. Plus I've never done anything like this before so how would I be able to do so now?

Before I can react he has my hair wrapped in his fist, pulling my head back forcefully a hiss of pain escaping my lips. It felt like it was going to rip itself right from the roots. “Dont you fucking hurt her!” Dean roars. The ground seems to become more violent, the large trees themselves shaking where they stood while everyone nearly stumbles over. He pulls my hair hard, my neck snapping back as he moves his shiny gun in front of me, showing me its side.

My only slightly blurred reflection stares back at me. My cheekbone had a dark bruise painted there and my eyes were–

My irises were purple. No. It doesn't make sense, I wasn't controlling this. I wasn't making it happen, I've never done this before. The Sheriff pushes me forward letting go of my hair at the last minute, I fall to my knees only a foot away from him. The barrel of the gun is pressed into the back of my skull, “Make it stop or I'll make you stop” he threatens. I can hear Dean struggle against Scotty again, and in the corner of my eyes I see him finally pull away before turning around and punching the man right in the face. Scotty doubles over, but before Dean could do any more damage to anyone else Harvey grabs him.

“You can't kill her, we have to leave them both for it” Stacy argues. The ground seems to roar, the earth shaking so siverley I nearly fall to my hands. “I would stop if I could!” I admit, “I don't kno–” I cut myself off, a sudden deep memory making its way to the surface of my brain. A memory of a deceased corn field, a disaster I caused.

“Make it stop!” the sheriff spits. “I told you I don't know h–” Suddenly the gun is raised up and before I could do anything to stop it, the gun hits the side of my skull. My head feels like it explodes as I hit the ground, my eyes struggle to stay open. The last thing I see before it all goes dark again is Dean trying to lunge forward and the ground halting in its shaking.

My eyes flutter open, my horrible headache accompanied with an even worse head-ache. Both in my head and outside. At this point my brain should be a scrambled mess.

My wrists were zip tied to a thinner part of the tree trunk my back rested on. It was just beginning to be dark out. I move my gaze from above me to across me, Dean sitting against a different tree in the same position I was in. His eyes widen and he attempts to move closer before grunting in frustration at the restrictions of his wrists, “You're awake. Are you okay?” He licks his lips, “I swear to fuckin’ god I’ll kill ‘em.”

I don't say anything, my head is too heavy. He's staring at me with wide eyes, fear clear in his irises. “‘You okay?” he asks again. I nod, my head hurts and I’m confused and upset, but I’m alive so I’m okay. He shakes his head, “No.” I look at him confused, I don't understand. He continues to shake his head, wetting his lips again, “Say it. I need to hear you say it,” he sounded breathless, “I need to hear you say you're okay.”

“Im okay” I say weakly. He sighs, relief clear in the way his shoulders drop. But I had a feeling he knew I wasn't being totally truthful.

He swallows roughly, “Can you see the scarecrow?” Despite my heavy head I look in each direction for the thing, until I can slightly see the post. “Dean” I start and I can hear my own voice wobble with fear, “It's not there.” He fights against his restraints, and I would join him in that effort if my head hasn't already given up on me. “I hope their apple pie is frickin’ worth it” he grumbles.

A shadow catches just behind Dean, I squint hoping I'm just seeing things from potential brain damage then the actual scarecrow. “Dean, I think it's behind you.” Forget everything I said and thought, I begin fighting against my own restraints, the zip ties digging into my wrists harshly. “Dean?” a familiar voice called out.

Sam’s tall figure comes into view as he rounds the tree Dean is tied to. Dean twists his neck oddly to see his brother, “Oh!” he sighs in relief, “Oh, I take everything back I said. I'm so happy to see you. Come on.” Sam takes that as his chance to assess his brother's binding before pulling out his pocket knife, “‘You okay, Y/N?” he asks as he works on sawing the bindings. “Dandy” I respond, truly done with this all.

“How’d you get here?” Dean asks his brother.

“I, uh–I stole a car.”

Dean laughs at that, “That's my boy!” His bindings finally break with a snap. Sam doesn't wait for his brother to get up as he walks the short distance to me, beginning to remove my own restraints. His eyes gaze down at me every now and then, most likely assessing the damage.

Deans at my side a breath later, squatting down to be at my level. He brings his hand carefully to my face, gently moving a piece of my hair behind my ear. Something feels dried and stiff there and I wonder if it's blood from being hit or just dirt. I tilt and roll my head away from him, the pain overwhelming even with the delicate touch.

My restraints snap above me, bits of the plastic tangling itself into my hair. My wrists are raw and red, just one more thing to add to the list. I place my hands on the cold dirt, trying to pick myself up but my ears begin to ring and my vision spins. I sit back down again, huffing. Strong arms grab my arm and waist all but lifting me off the ground and onto my feet, “‘You got eyes on the scarecrow?” Dean asks, looking at his brother who shakes his head. “Alright, I can carry you, the clearing isn’t far off” Dean says looking down at me.

“That's ridiculous,” I shake my head, “I’ll slow you down. I’ll just push through, and we don't have time to argue this.” He grumbles, he doesn't like the idea. But again we don't know where the scarecrow is and we can't waste time bickering over stupid logistics.

I immediately regret not taking the offer. My brain feels like it's jumping around in my skull and swishing side to side as if on a boat. I feel like the orchard is spinning around me, tumbling over itself like one of those tunnels in a fun house.

“Alright, now, this sacred tree you’re talking about–” Sam pants lightly as we run, Dean having filled him in on the information we gathered. “It's the source of its power” I finish, my voice feeling far away even in my own ears. “So let’s find it and burn it.” Sam annonces.

“Nah, in the morning.” Dean counters, “Let’s just shag ass before Leather face catches up.”

We come to a skidding stop, just at a clearing of trees the four jerks from before as well as a couple others stand guard. Sam nudged us in a different direction just to be met with a wall of people, we were surrounded. “Did the whole fricking town come to watch us die?!” I exclaim, “Just let us leave!” I was so tired of this, I just want to go to a motel or something and shower off today's fears before falling into a deep sleep. “It’ll be over quickly” Harley says, and if it was meant to be comforting it was not working. “It's for the greater go–” suddenly a sickle is pushed through his stomach. His mouth opens in shock, blood dripping down the sides. Screams come from all around us, and I hardly know if I was screaming too.

He’s raised off the ground before the sickle is quickly pulled out. Stacy still stands there screaming, watching her dying husband on the floor. But soon her screams are cut off too, the sickle going through her throat. Her eyes are wide, her mouth hanging open too as blood not only spurts out of her neck but spills down like a waterfall onto her shirt. The air fills quickly with all the blood's metallic scent. The scarecrow does not retract its weapon, keeping the curved blade in her neck as it grabs onto Harley's collar dragging them both behind it.

Shock had frozen us in place, but apparently not the townspeople. “Come on let’s go,” Dean insists, leading us away.

Morning came by far too slowly but at least we passed the time by using the stolen car to drive back to the college to get the Impala before returning to the orchard. It all went by so weirdly, I knew I was moving but it felt like I never left that road outside the expanse of apple trees. I hardly remember the drive there or the drive back, everything still spun and the ringing only got louder. I think I might have lost my mind.

We stand in front of the sacred tree though I don't remember how we found it. The tree had Vince’s tattoo printed onto it, that was a tell tale sign it was the right one. Sam pours gasoline all over it, Dean picks up a long branch lighting it on fire before throwing it onto the tree. “‘Think the towns ‘gonna be okay?” Sam asks as the flaming tree roars with the crackling flames. “Don’t know” Dean shrugs, but I think the answer was apparent to all of us.

“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?” Sam adds.

“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough.” Dean answers.

We walk back to the car leaving the burning tree behind us, though I hope it won’t spread and cause a whole forest fire, “So, can I drop you off somewhere?” Dean asks.

“No, I think you’re stuck with me.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you’re still a pain in the ass.” Sam explains, “But, Jess and Mom—they’re both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, me, Y/N. We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.”

I give Sam's arm a little squeeze, it was a really sweet speech.

“Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.” Dean smiles, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder who hits it away. They fall into a fit of laughter, “You should be kissing my ass, you were dead meat, dude.” Sam says between laughs.

“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten us out.” Dean scuffs.

“Right.”

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