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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

Text

Objectification Headcanons

Michael Myers; Corey Cunningham

1.2k words | Gender Neutral / Varied Reader

when Michael Myers is staring out a window, he's broadcasting that he's available for your use. all you have to do is go inside and approach him if you wanna get dicked down. highly recommend.

post-Michael Corey Cunningham? he's basically always open for business. he doesn't even need to broadcast it because everyone knows, and we love him for it.

NSFW 18+ Variety of depravity within.

thx @dark-scape for helping me figure out what to call this lol. Corey tag list: @ethanhoewke

Michael Myers

When you walk in, he'll turn around like so. Guarantee he's already hard by the time you cross the room. Just seeing you turns him on.

If you want to get railed, all you have to do is run your hand over the bulge in his jumpsuit. This activates Classic Michael where he'll fuck you with no mercy.

In Classic Mode, if you want a specific position, you just need to assume that position. Want it against the wall? Stand with your back to the wall. Doggy? Get on all fours.

In Classic Mode, he is relentless. The catch is that you have to cum. If you try to leave before you cum, you might get your throat slit. I wouldn't risk it. For him to come, normally it won't take him long after you, if not instantaneously.

If you need Michael's cock down your throat, all you have to do is get on your knees and be ready for eye-watering face fucking.

To activate Feral Mode, unzip his jumpsuit and let the sleeves hang down. All bets are off now. He may pull your hair, smack your ass, pick you up and switch to different locations.

Feral mode is not for the faint of heart. Michael may get creative. You need to be okay with injuries. You will be bruised at the least.

If you prefer to ride him, grab his bulge more forcefully to activate Sub Mode. He'll walk stiffly and slowly to the nearest comfortable surface and sit or lay down. In this mode, you have to initiate everything, including unzip him. But don't be surprised if he can't help but add some thrusting power. He's human after all.

In Sub Mode, you are free to use his monster cock as a dong. You can impale yourself right away or rub that big veiny masterpiece between your legs for friction. You can do this until you come or impale yourself when you're ready. Feel free to also suck him off for extra rigidity and lube.

You may not under any circumstances remove his mask

You can put him up against the wall and fuck yourself on his rod. He's much better than a suction cup dong.

In sub mode, the catch is that HE has to come. You can't use him and leave him with blue balls.

Bottom Mode isn't guaranteed, but if you want Michael to take a dick or strap-on, strip him all the way down and finger him while you suck his dick first. If he does take it in the ass, be prepared for him to turn the tables violently at some point. There's a small chance he'll slash you, but that just adds to the excitement.

Regardless of what mode you want, you can up the intensity by bringing him someone to slash. The kill will make him rock hard.

Even when he's not staring out a window, you'll learn to recognize that far-off gaze. If you approach him in someone's yard, be ready to put on a show - there won't be time for a change of venue. Beware though, If it turns out he's in hot pursuit and you interrupt him, you might have a bad time.

Corey Cunningham (Post-Michael)

Let's be real, you don't have to catch Corey at a window or even in a trance. Unless he's occupied with a kill, another lover, or Michael, he's open for business.

That being said, poor Corey stared out the window for hours in the Halloween Ends Novelization and no takers noticed. :(

Corey's different modes can be activated verbally and with social cues in addition to touch.

He offers a little more than Michael in some ways - Corey is a kisser, gives head, is much more emotional and expressive than Michael, and is pretty open minded.

To activate Shape Mode, just check Corey out and make it obvious you like what you see. Corey will need to make you his, but he also needs to see you want it. He wants you to need him before he'll whip it out.

His eyes will darken and he'll become extremely seductive and persuasive. He'll grab your head with both hands and kiss you so fucking hard and smooth, you'll swoon. He'll back you into the wall or nearest surface.

He'll gaze into your eyes, put his fingers in your mouth, grind himself on you. His huge hands will roam all over your body until you're begging for his cock, and then he'll tease you with it, humping you, stripping you, rubbing against your dripping sex until you're dying to have him inside you.

An alternate way to activate Shape Corey is to find him at the shop and say your car has a rattle.

If you're a regular, he'll remember what you like.

In Feral Mode, Corey will choke you. He'll bend you over the furniture or take you against the wall. He'll talk dirty to you. He knows his voice drives you crazy. He'll tell you what a slut you are and how good you take his fat dick.

In Sub Mode, Corey will be a whimpering mess. His default will be to get on his knees and desperately nuzzle his head in between your legs, begging you to let him please you and you can instruct him from there.

He is more than happy to give you head. Be sure to give him lots of praise. He will eat pussy like he he's starving. He also eats ass and can slob a good knob.

If you want to suck him off, he'll whine and whimper and beg. But if you tell him to fuck your face, he'll do that too. He will probably narrate the whole time with dirty talk.

If you have Corey lie down or sit down for you to ride him, he'll be very vocal. His groans and moans might send you over the edge on their own. Those big hands will rove. He will not be still.

To activate Bottom Mode - if you want Corey to take a dick or toy - press it against his pants or jumpsuit and firmly drag it along his crack all the way to his balls and he'll eagerly cooperate.

In general, if he says Michael's name at any point, take it as a huge compliment. If you say Michael's name, you might not be able to walk the next day.

Corey Cunningham (Pre-Michael)

Post-Accident, Pre-Michael Corey would have been very hesitant and suspicious that you could even want to use him.

He would get hard, but he wouldn't have the confidence to worship you like the standard Sub Corey.

Turn him on enough and he would end up begging. An example is when he was working at the mall kiosk.

He wouldn't be expressive until he was physically inside you and even then he might be afraid that it's a trick.

I don't think pre-accident Corey would ho around or offer himself up for use, but he could be DTF in the right circumstances.

Corey & Michael

Corey and Michael do NOT have a free use arrangement with each other. Their dynamic is more complicated.

At first, Corey would have considered himself free for Michael's use at any time, but Corey doesn't take rejection well. As time goes on, he lashes out (i.e., taking the mask).

Unfortunately for Corey, Michael is never at his disposal. Corey is always going to be at Michael's mercy for whatever Michael will give him, if anything, at any given time. He may savor the occasional crumb like being permitted to grind himself against Michael's thigh with both of them fully clothed right after a kill.

Anything else is most likely to be situational, catching Michael in the heat of a kill , and may involve a third party.

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thegempage · 2 years ago

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a scene that may or may not exist like this in a fic i have yet to write

"So..."

You pretend not to hear him. The Prince is sitting on the stonework just above you; if his voice didn't give him away, the purple boots that land on the ground next to you would. You were given explicit instructions not to speak with him, and considering you like having your head attached to your shoulders and not mounted on a wall where you have a sneaking suspicion they once had one of your relatives, teeth forced open in a snarl you've never really liked pulling, you intend to stick to that instruction. One of the maids told you about him in advance anyway; he's literally all bark and no bite, according to the servants about to rotate out, the ones who have been here the longest, he'll talk your ear off and understands if you don't respond.

("It's unfortunate," one of the other knights had mused, fiddling with ropes and knots while she showed you around. "You can tell he just wants to talk to someone, but he must've caught wind of the fact that we're not supposed to respond because he doesn't even talk like you're there. It's best to just let him get it out and he'll leave you alone.")

"This summer heat has been a real bitch. You'd think they'd give a guy some cooler clothes to work with when the sun literally lights shit on fire if the windows aren't open in the afternoons but nah, too easy, make him work for pants that aren't a thousand degrees."

You can't say you were expecting him to be so... foul mouthed. What appears to be two pant legs land next to the boot, suspiciously unconnected to a waistband.

"The name's Dave, by the way. I know you're probably a stickler for not calling me that because everyone Mom and Dad sends is a stickler for being all formal or whatever --" A cape flutters to the ground and you think he finally settles "-- but if you don't have a stick up your ass consider this official permission to just call me Dave."

(So much for acting like you're not there.)

"You seem different than the other knights they send, but in a cool way. Like, usually they send these big muscly types who talk about how great of a vacation this is. And they're nice and all, but you're actually taking this seriously, so clearly you've got something going on or Mom and Dad wouldn't have strangled you with it."

He says it so, so casually. It makes your blood run cold. You tense, your grip tightening on your sword pommel; you'd never strike at the Prince (you're not dumb enough to do that), but it's comforting to know you're armed.

"Don't sweat it, I'm not going to ask. Even if you could respond that's kind of a dick move. We're just locked up here together, you know? Those guys all have families and pubs they get to go back to with big bonuses and stories about how the crows follow the crown prince wherever he goes after a month, but I've been here my whole life. I don't know how long they've got you here, but considering you're standing right in front of the hallway to me and Rose's rooms I've gotta assume it's a while."

Rose must be the princess. You continue to stare straight ahead and do a pretty alright job of not jumping out of your skin when two hands descend and pull your helmet off. You didn't even -- You know you put that on correctly this morning, how the fuck did he --

"Rose has been showing me some tricks," he seems to answer your internal question. "Good job not slapping me, though, some of the knights they put here have a nasty habit of almost breaking my nose when I sneak up on them. Which, fair enough --" the Prince jumps down from the stonework and you see him for the first time, unfortunately, "-- they don't expect me to know about all of the little buckles it takes to put these suits on, even though a kid could probably figure it out."

The Prince is taller than you, as your gaze laser focused ahead allows you to see. The emblem of Derse is stitched across his tunic and his outfit seems to be missing a few pieces, especially his pants from the knees down. He fiddles with your helmet as he stands in front of you, and you don't even need to expand your senses to know he's staring at you. The one thing you can't tell is with what intent. You don't think he's malicious, perhaps curious? Your grandmother would tease that your scales show when you're nervous, but that was only with magic sight, could he have such an ability? His hands are darker than yours, especially against the clean silver of your helmet, and his nails are manicured and painted a muted red. When he taps them on the metal, you can just barely hear the sound of them making contact. He breathes in like he wants to say something, but lets it out, and the two of you stand in silence.

You dare a peek. No head movement, nothing that disrespectful, but your eyes trail up to see his face. His eyes are hidden behind round, dark pieces of glass spun together with gold wire, but you can't shake the idea that he's watching you; his hair is carefully cut and styled, the late afternoon giving him a sort of halo. His expression is carefully and meticulously put together to be neutral; you can't tell what he's hiding, but you know he's hiding something.

"Just once," he says, holding out your helmet. "Talk to me once. Just tell me your name."

You hesitate. His hand is shaking and he doesn't want you to know. So you don't; you take your helmet, eyes straight ahead with it held at your side, and you say only, "Karkat Vantas."

He smiles. "Nice to meet you, Karkat."

And then he leaves.

#little rock.txt #homestuck #ciaran does the art #writing #i would love to hear what you think btw!#i don't. know how to explain this jkfsdlafjk #there's a lot of lore happening. don't worry about it #focus on them meeting for the first time #future davekat implied #also. ngl. ywdmp has me considering making this soldavekat. but for now have these two #fairytale au

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luveline · 3 years ago

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hi jade may i request adopting a kitten with peter pls🥺 maybe like peter found a cute kitty on the way home after patrol and he wants to keep it or whatever its up to you :))

hi thank u for your request! hope this is ok <3

"Don't be mad," Peter says quickly.

You flinch where you're on the sofa, the bowl of tortilla chips balanced on your chest toppling over and scattering on the floor. You're too distracted to worry over them, knees sinking into the cushions as you straighten up to find him.

There he is, at the window, fully suited up and-

"Peter. Is that a cat?"

"A kitten."

"Oh my god."

The kitten is soaking wet and cradled to his chest in one arm. He pulls his mask off, looking sheepish and too pretty underneath it. You know that he knows he'll get his way with his face alone, so you pin your eyes on the poor small animal instead, seemingly asleep.

"Where'd you find him?" you ask, hands braced on the back of the sofa.

Peter walks forward until you're close enough to touch, dropping his mask beside you and leaning down carefully to kiss your cheek.

You half despise him for it.

"Peter," you say, gooey soft, chiding, "I can't take care of a kitten. I'm too busy."

"I'll take care of him, you won't have to worry."

You wince. At least he's honest with his intentions.

"Him," you sigh.

"Well, I think so. Can't tell and don't want to look, but I'll assume."

You get up and leave, careful not to trod on your mess of overturned chips. He says your name worriedly and you sigh, though he's quick to follow you into the bathroom. You turn back to him with a towel in your hand and offer it to him.

He smiles in thanks, sickly sweet, so happy it makes your chest ache. "Thank you," he says.

He wraps the towel around the kitten and you stare at its dark fur, it's small, slitted eyes.

"Will he be okay?" you murmur, brushing the kittens whiskers gently with your finger.

He sneezes. Peter cooes, looking positively molten.

"Oh, Pete. You're a hopeless case."

"I'm a hopeless case," he agrees, rubbing the kittens wet fur with a corner of plush white towel.

"I'm gonna go clean up my mess."

"Don't, doll, please. It's my fault. I scared you, I'll clean it up. You wanna keep this little guy warm for me?"

He passes you the bundle of fur slowly. You accept him, gazing down at the less-wet cat with something akin to reluctant doting.

"It's really not personal," you whisper, listening to Peter's nearly silent footing and then the clatter of the vacuum cleaner. "It's not that you're not adorable, 'cos you are. But I can't even take care of myself, let alone you."

The vacuum cleaner turns on. Now you know Peter can't hear you, you admit, "Peter takes care of me. I know he'll take care of you."

The kitten sneezes again. You tuck the towel around him and wander into your kitchen for something to give him. You scrounge the cupboards for a tin of freshwater tuna and struggle with the pull tab one handed, opening it with a spoon. You take a little bit of tuna onto the spoon and hold it out to the small cat until his tiny pink tongue pokes out to try it.

The vacuum cleaner goes quiet. Peter appears minutes later with his suit pulled off in his boxers alone.

"His eyes are open!" Peter cheers.

He scoops him back out of your arms and takes the spoon, encouraging his new pet with mumbled praise. "Good job, buddy… good job."

He looks up at you with an inordinate amount of glee. You smile at him. "Peter," you murmur, almost whining, annoyed and endeared that he's gotten his way once again.

He drops the spoon and wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his naked chest.

You glare at the kitten without any real malice.

"I love you," he says into your hair.

"You talking to me or the cat?"

"Definitely you," he says, laughing.

"Just checking."

"Maybe a little bit the cat. Or a lot. Both of you, baby, I promise."

You grumble.

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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 3 years ago

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"coffee shop au but the barista hates their guts" with magnus and julia? i think it'd be funny

from this prompt list!

Julia ties her apron and switches on her café-approved playlist as Hurley finishes wiping down the counters. Ren gives the pair of them a sleepy wave before heading back into the office to work on paperwork. Rain drums on the windows and thunder rumbles like some long-sleeping beast is waking from hibernation.

“Alright, just nine more hours,” Julia says joylessly as she starts making herself the first of many iced quads for this sleepy Wednesday.

“Starting off in this chipper of a mood, huh?” Hurley asks, unlocking the door and flipping the sign, preparing for the inevitable deluge of customers.

She scoffs, her distaste palpable. “ C’mon, you know I hate Wednesdays.”

“This still about your regular?”

“This is absolutely about my regular,” Julia confirms, rolling her eyes as she pours her espresso shots over ice.

Hurley laughs to herself. “Jules, he can’t be that bad.”

“Listen, I know that your tall, broody regular who tips immaculately may have skewed your perception of our clientele but this dude is a royal pain in my ass. Like, he comes in and stares at the menu he’s seen at least a hundred times before as though it changes ever. Then he changes his order at least once every single goddamn time he’s here. Gonna be medium black coffee or a small caramel latte or a medium mocha. Not to mention that dude pays in exact freaking change. Down to the pennies. And he’ll drop a single dollar in the jar. And I’ll make the goddamn drink for him and he’ll say ‘oh, could I get two Splendas?’ while standing in front of the packets of Splenda. I’ll give them to him because I’m a nice fucking lady. And then he'll hang out for an hour, barely drink his drink, trash it, and leave.” Julia drains roughly half her drink after recounting her tale.

“That must be really hard for you,” Hurley deadpans. “I mean, gotta say, it’s real tough for me to have perhaps one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen always get an iced dirty chai, tip $5, and tell me to have a lovely day.”

“Yeah, tough ‘cuz you won’t ask her out or give her your number or anything,” Julia teases. As if on cue, Hurley’s very pretty regular traipses through the front door, soaked to the bone.

“Hey, Sloane, good morning!” Hurley calls out, entirely too chipper. She shoots a little glare at Julia.

Sloane lights up and starts rifling through her wallet. “’Morning, Hurley!”

“Large iced dirty chai for ya today?” Hurley’s hand is already reaching out for the cup as she asks. Sloane nods and smiles a little shyly.

“That predictable, huh?”

Hurley shrugs. “Not a bad thing. You like what you like. I like that.”

Sloane hands Hurley her cash. “Keep the change!”

“Thank you. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“Thanks!” Sloane goes to pull up a chair at a vacant table.

“Hurley. Please. For the love of any god, give the girl your number,” Julia says under her breath. “I can’t keep watching this until she wises up to the fact that our coffee really isn’t that good and she eventually starts going to another pretentious coffeeshop.”

Hurley flushes. “Julia!” she hisses. “I don’t want to make it weird.”

“Then I’ll make it weird for you!” Julia walks over to the pastry case and decisively pulls out a sugar cookie, slipping it into a paper sleeve. She deftly pulls out a pen and scribbles Hurley’s number on the exterior. She returns to Hurley’s side and sets the treat down next to where Hurley’s finishing Sloane’s drink. Some of the color drains from her face when she realizes what Julia’s done.

“Jules, come on,” she whines quietly.

“Hurley, the worst that happens is she doesn’t text,” Julia murmurs, grabbing a straw.

Hurley frowns a little. “Yeah, but then it’ll be awkward.”

“If it’s awkward then I’ll make her dirty chai real bad next time so she doesn’t come in again.”

“You’re so dumb and I hate you,” Hurley laughs. She lets out a little deep breath and flips the cookie bag over, number-side down. “Sloane? Got your order right here!”

Sloane approaches the counter and blinks in surprise. “Oh! What’s this?” she asks, eyes alight with intrigue.

“Just a little freebie. If you want it, of course!” Hurley supplies hurriedly. She tries to muster up a smile that doesn’t look like it’s barely containing every single one of her nerves, all standing at attention.

“You’re too freaking sweet, oh my God!” Sloane grins at Hurley before grabbing her items. “Have a lovely day!”

“You too!”

Hurley manages to keep her smile firm on her face until Sloane leaves. “Holy shit, I think I have to move away and never work here again!”

“You’re being dramatic,” Julia rolls her eyes at Hurley. She’d kill for a non-rage inducing regular. She half-hopes the shitty weather’ll keep him away. She smiles a little as she hears a quiet chime from Hurley’s phone. No time wasted, it seems.

Julia’s not sure why everyone in the entire world decided that they had to come for a coffee at the same goddamn time but she’s kinda over it. Hurley is exclusively working on making a metric ton of drinks while Julia has to keep bouncing between the manning the register and heating up pastries and making drinks. The line is building up and Julia feels a small pit of rage bubble up when she sees her goddamn regular join the line. She thinks God has abandoned her. Maybe God can’t see her in this chapel of caffeine and capitalism. Maybe this is actually hell where she’s being forced to shill overpriced lattes and flavorless breakfast sandwiches to increasingly agitated and entitled customers.

She’s able to take five orders in record time before attending to the shrill beeping of the oven, warning Julia that if she doesn’t drop everything she’s doing right now, these croissants are going to burn. She auctions them and the accompanying drinks off to a handful of customers before making two iced chai lattes. She stands on her tiptoes to address the man next in line. “I’ll be with you in just one moment!” She cringes internally at her hyper-fake, chirpy customer service voice.

The man in line doesn’t acknowledge her. Fine. Prick. Another glance up at the line while she waits on some espresso shots and she feels herself deflate; her fucking regular is behind rude dude. Can she ever get a break? Is this all some cruel twist of fate? All these existential questions and more will have to wait until she can take her break. She churns out another two easy drinks before returning to the register.

“Sorry about that wait, thanks for your patience! How can I help you today?” She plasters on a smile that threatens to shatter her tenuous “I don’t hate my job” mask.

The man in front of her audibly scoffs and she is wildly impressed at her restraint because she manages to not roll her eyes. “Large cappuccino. No foam.”

Oh no. Julia takes a breath. “So, if I make you a cappuccino without foam, that’s just going to be a latte, is that okay?”

“I said I want a large cappuccino with no foam,” the man snaps. He’s looking at her as though she personally pissed in his Cheerios.

Julia’s smile stretches wider. She’s certain she looks like some kind of deranged clown at this point. “Right, but a cappuccino is espresso, steamed milk, and foam. No foam would just be espresso and steamed milk. A latte.” She knows she sounds a little condescending but there’s only so many times you can explain a drink to a person.

“Are you stupid? Just make the goddamn drink.” Hurley whips her head to look at Julia. She raises an eyebrow that Julia just waves off.

Oh fuck this guy. Julia feels her face heat up and she does her level best to keep her voice under control. “Okay, sir. One large cappuccino with no foam. Can I get you anything else today?” Her voice shakes a little and it makes her face heat up even more. She cannot believe this fucking guy is really going to ruin her day. The oven starts beeping again and Julia quickly becomes agitated.

“Yeah. Bacon, egg, and goat cheese croissant. And a cookie.”

Shit. Her smile goes apologetic. “I’m so sorry sir, we just sold out of our bacon, egg, and goat cheese croissants. Could I offer you another delectable selection?”

“Of fucking course you did. No. Just the cookie and the drink.”

Julia nods, not trusting the growing tightness in her throat to not make her voice sound pitiful. She’s not sad, she’s fucking pissed, but of course this is how her body processes anger.

“How will you be paying today?”

“Apple Pay.”

You have got to be fucking kidding. “We actually can’t do Apple Pay. Do you —”

“The fuck kind of place even is this? Get me your manager.” The man scowls at her.

“Sir, I’m sorry that yo—”

“Your manager.”

Julia swallows. “Hey Ren?” she calls down the small hallway. The office door is cracked and in a moment, Ren emerges. She takes one look at Julia and furrows her brow.

“What’s going on?” She’s better at reading Julia than Julia cares to say. Not that reading Julia is particularly hard to do in this moment. Less Crime and Punishment and more Green Eggs and Ham.

“This place is ridiculous. Can’t keep shit stocked, don’t take Apple Pay, and your baristas are slow and bitchy.”

Despite her wishes, more heat blossoms on her face and her throat squeezes again and angry, bitter tears well in her eyes. It’s one thing to be pissed because things are out of stock but it’s another entirely to just call her a bitch.

This doesn’t fly with Ren. “Sir, get out. You’re not going to speak to my staff that way,” Ren crosses her arms and glares at the man.

“You can’t do that, I know my rights,” the man scowls at Ren, who is in no mood to play around.

“I have the right to refuse service to anyone. Your rights protect you from the government, not me, bud. So I’ll ask you politely to leave one more time. Don’t make me ask a third time.” Ren’s voice is firm and confident and everything that Julia’s isn’t in this moment and while she’s never been more grateful, she also can’t help from feeling like first grader running to her teacher because someone pulled on her pigtail.

The man throws his arms up in exasperation before storming out. Ren holds a finger up to Julia’s regular, instructing him to wait. At the very least, he’s the final customer in line. “You wanna go on break?”

“I can take this guy first. I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

Ren nods and helps Hurley sling a couple more drinks and replaces the pitiful croissants; victims of a shitty customer tantrum.

Julia clears her throat and looks at her regular only a little morosely. “Hey there, how can I help you today?”

“Oh my God that guy sucked,” he blurts out. Julia can’t help but laugh. “Like, bad. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” More tears manifest and her voice is thick.

“No, but he made you cry! Over a coffee!” Her regular sounds genuinely distressed over the events that just transpired. Julia can’t help but be a little touched.

She shrugs good naturedly. “That’s food service!”

He frowns deeply. “I hate that.”

“It’s not all bad. Not all the time. But this isn’t my therapy corner, what can I get you?”

He stares up at the menu and in a stunning turn of events, Julia doesn’t feel the desire to roll her eyes. “What do you like here?”

Phoning a friend for a suggestion this time? Nice change of pace. “I do iced quads. Basically just espresso over ice.”

He winces. “That seems a little extreme for me.”

Ren and Hurley finish up the tickets that had gotten backed up during the rush. All is calm. So Julia doesn’t feel too bad just chatting with her regular. “Can I ask what you do like? Because I gotta be honest, you’ve been coming in for a while and I don’t think I’ve seen you finish a whole drink?”

He grins sheepishly. “You noticed that, huh?” She nods and waits for him to explain himself. “Well, I just moved to the area and I liked the idea of being a regular somewhere. This is right next to my apartment and I thought I could maybe force myself into liking coffee. Embarrassing, I know.”

“Nah, it’s sweet. You’re definitely a regular, I’ll give you that.”

“I feel like I’m bad at it.”

Julia wrinkles her nose. “There’s always room for improvement. Why don’t we start with getting you a drink you might actually like?”

“I’d like that!”

“You like sweet stuff, then?” Julia wipes at the corner of her eyes, having stopped actively crying.

“I do, yeah!”

She hums a bit as she thinks. “How’s a caramel hot chocolate sound?”

His eyes widen almost comically at the thought. “That sounds great!” Julia smiles and punches it into the system. He quickly slides his card through the reader and drops some cash into the jar.

“Magnus, right?”

“That’s right!”

“It’ll be right out.”

By the time Magnus walks to a table, his drink is ready. Julia decides to go drop it off. “Here, let’s hope this one’s a winner.”

“That’s one of the best things I’ve ever had, holy crap!” Magnus exclaims after a large sip.

“Hell yeah!” she drums her fingers on his table, not wanting to go back to the register just yet.

“I’m sorry again about that dude. I think you’re really nice, if that counts for anything.”

“I think it might. Thanks for being so chill, Magnus. See you tomorrow?”

He nods. “Yeah. See you then!”

She smiles a little before going back over to the register. Hurley scoots over to her and waggles her eyebrows. “Being nice to your enemy?”

“Nah. I have a new enemy. That’s just Magnus.”

A knowing grin worms its way to Hurley’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that, Casanova. How’s Sloane?”

A dark blush colors Hurley’s cheeks. “That obvious?”

“Oh yeah.”

#taz #taz balance #julia burnsides #julia waxman #magnus burnsides #magnulia #hurley #sloane #hurloane #reese writes #this was so much longer than i planned skdfjlsdjf #also bonus hurloane just for fun #i do not work in a coffeeshop but i do work in food so uh. be kind to workers please sdlksdjf #thank you!!#sometimesrelativelyokay

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eternalstargazer · 3 years ago

Text

Journeys AMV #1

Together As One

With Captions:

dailymotion

No Captions:

dailymotion

Song: Battle Cry - (Stand Up!) (from Pokémon: Arceus and the Jewel of Life)

Lyrics: John Loeffler and David Wolfert

Artist: Erin Bowman

Composer: John Loeffler and Manny Corallo

Arrangement: Manny Corallo

Pokémon Font: Solid/Hollow

Ash has never been afraid to stand up for what's right and fight back against those looking to exploit Pokémon for selfish reasons, and he's always been surrounded by friends willing to do the same. Goh is no different; and the two of them work as one time and again, winning over the hearts and minds of Pokémon that have suffered at the hands of humans.

Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl come out next month so of course I had to go with a song from Gen 4 this time around!

This started out as a SatoGou AMV, but by the time I finished editing the video, I realized it was pretty light on SatoGou moments (compared to my other AMVs anyway 😂). It became more and more Goh-heavy... whoops. 😅 I promise just as soon as Ash gets some more PWC wins under his belt, he'll be getting some love as I have a song from Gen 3/Advanced Generation that I'm specifically saving for him!

I still intend on having an actual SatoGou AMV ready to post on November 1st. 😄

Real quick - I just want to clear up any confusion as to why I decided to open the AMV focusing on a train with Ash and Goh staring out the window. It's supposed to be a metaphor for journeying through life and the different paths we can take/opportunities that come along as we go from one destination to the next - which I felt fit well with the opening lyrics to the song.

I've taken this approach with some of my previous AMVs, but I probably should refrain from doing that going forward because while it makes sense to me and I see the connection, it may leave others confused and make parts of the AMV feel nonsensical. 😅

A list of my other SatoGou AMVs can be found here.

#journeyshipping #firstfriendshipping #fatedencountershipping #gouacheshipping #satogou #satogoh #gousato #ash x goh #ash x gou #pokemon journeys #goh #gou #trainer goh

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Californian Dream (Pt. 03 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.9 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

<- Previous part (02)

Next part (04) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Pandemonium

It takes a while to process what's going on. The explosion, the flames, the smoke. And the vans, the shooting. It feels like some kind of dream, something too far from reality to be understood. Yet, it's very real. You can tell by how cold you feel now, from your soaked dress glued on your legs, or maybe the wind, or perhaps what's happening not too far away. The chaos emerging from the place you were at only some minutes ago.

“We have to see what's–”

“Bad idea.” Billy grabs your arm, both of you getting down, the sand hurting your knees through the soft fabric of your dress. You barely feel his grip, eyes locked on the hotel, the smell of burned things reaching your nose. “Hey. We gotta get out of here. C'mon.” He starts pulling you with him, and you try to follow up the best you can given your state. The gunfires are loud, nonstop, persistent, and soon enough you can distinguish the yells too. Cries for help, probably.

“Billy, wait. My parents are there.” Resisting him, you try to make him stop, to head back there. “We have to–” Then, when you reach the sidewalk, you see it. Even from the distance, you can see people being dragged, violently pushed inside the back of the vans. You can't see their faces, but it's quite obvious now. “They're...”

“It's called kidnapping. Let's go.” You both set in motion again. Billy's grip on your arm slides down until he's holding your hand, but you don't mind. The only thing in your mind right now is that you don't want to be pushed into the back of any van. He let's go when you finally reach his car, thankfully parked far enough from the pandemonium, and he has no trouble maneuvering it and speeding away, a lot faster than on your way here.

Only when the noises are a distant echo you release a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Then, you start breathing fast, a hand on your heart as you close your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself down. That gotta be a mistake. A misunderstanding. You were supposed to be there. What would've happened if you and Billy were in there? Would you be shoved into those cars too?

“(Y/N).” He calls, and you give him a glance, your hair covering half of your sight. “You're hyperventilating. You have to slow down.”

“Ok, ok.” You mumble, trying to breathe in deeply and push the air out slowly. After doing that a few times, you feel tears in your eyes, wiping them away. “Where are you taking me?”

“My place.”

You were just about to complain, ask him why he isn't taking you home, where you should be to check if your parents are ok. But it makes sense. Your house may not be safe. “Alright.”

Billy doesn't slow down. He only stops in a small parking lot, beside a building. You don't know exactly where you are, so you just follow him through the sidewalk and into the building, upstairs for two or three floors until he's finally unlocking a door, gesturing for you to walk in. The first thing you notice is a TV, and you quickly make your way over it. “Can I put on the news channel?”

“Sure.”

Turning the TV on, you stop on the first news channel you find, and you immediately recognize the hotel. The reporter is by the fountain, and behind her, there is a lot of firemen, trying to put down the flames. But what gets your attention isn't the destruction, or whatever the woman is saying. Is the blood. You can see it staining the light gray rocks of the hotel's entrance. “Is that...”

“Sit down. C'mon.” Billy pulls you with him, forcing you to take a seat on his couch. Leaning forward, elbows on your knees, you bounce your leg, trying to bring some sense to what the reporter is saying.

“Thirteen of the heirs from the most important and wealthy families of California were taken on a violent, brutal action performed by masked men. According to witnesses, they came right after an explosion in the kitchens, surrounding the hotel and forcing everyone to lie down.” She makes a pause, looking at something behind the camera. “As they expertly picked up the kids one by one, some people were shot as they tried to keep them from taking their children.”

“What?” Gasping, you stand up abruptly, tears in your eyes again.

“The deceased are Mrs. Laurel Whayland, Mrs. Karen Garret, Miss Elena Williams, Mr. Harry Hench, and Miss Gisele Everline. Three more people were taken to the hospital but we still have no news about them.”

“Gisele is dead?” You mutter, tears rolling down. “I-I know those people, Billy. I know them.” Their faces start flashing in your mind, and despite you never being too fond of them, it still hurts.

“I'm sorry.” Billy stands up, and without thinking twice, you hug him, collapsing against his chest. With one hand around his midsection, you use the other to cover your mouth, trying to control the sobs shaking your body. You were supposed to be there. You would be taken, that's for sure. And maybe it would be your mother or father dead by now.

“If it weren't for you I'd be in there.” You cry, stepping away just enough to look at him. “I'd be who knows where now... Maybe even dead, like Gisele.” Gisele. You're superficial, redhead friend. She wasn't your confidant, she wasn't someone you could trust. But she was there, earlier today, playing volleyball on your pool, happy, smiling, breathing, living. Now she's gone.

“Calm down, alright?” Billy seems pretty shaken too, and that's when you notice it could have been him too.

“I-I'm sorry, Billy. I dragged you to that stupid party and if we waited just a little longer you would be in the middle of that mess because of me. I'm so sorry.” Speaking fast, you struggle not to sob again, your voice cracking. “If you died because of me I'd never forgive myself.”

“Alright, I need you to slow down, ok?” Again, Billy guides you to the couch, pulling you to seat down with him. “First of all, there was no way in hell you could've know something like that would happen.” He gestures at the TV, but your eyes are focused on him. “So don't blame yourself. I took you to the gala because I wanted to, you didn't drag me.”

“I–”

“It is now confirmed.” The reporter starts again, and both you and Billy stare at the screen. “The kidnappers left a tape, which is now with the police. Chances are they want a rescue, we just don't know how much yet.”

“This can't be happening.” You mutter, running a hand through your now messy hair. “I don't–”

The phone's loud ring makes you jump, a hand on your heart. “Let me answer that.” As he moves to answer the phone, you finally notice the living room and kitchen are an open space, and there's a small hall with two doors, one of them must be his bedroom. Billy speaks low, facing away from you, so you take the chance to pace around a little, wiping off more tears and trying to calm down, pushing the memory of the explosion and the shootings away.

You stop by the living door window, looking out, and you notice his apartment is only one block away from the beach, and you can see it from here, the moonlight reflecting on the water.

“(Y/N).” You mmediately turn around at the mention of your name. “It's your father. He wants to speak to you.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you walk over to the kitchen space. “My father has your number?”

“Company policy,” Billy says, handing you over the phone.

“Dad?” You say, more tears now threatening to roll down. “Are you ok? Is mom ok?”

“We're both alright. We're alright.” He starts, and you can hear your mother's voice in the back. “I need you to listen to me, and listen carefully, understood?”

“Yeah.”

“We know what those lowlives want. They'll ask for a rescue so high even the Whayland will have trouble paying. And they won't stop. There's nothing on the media yet, but they said it, out loud, that they'll go after the rest of the heirs. That includes you and some other kids too.” With a hand on your forehead, you turn around, finding Billy standing by the table, arms crossed. “I don't think the media will let it out because it'll cause more panic, but we know and we won't let anything happen to you.”

“What should I do then?” You inquire, staring at Billy.

“You'll stay there.” Your father explains, and a low, humorless laugh escapes your lips. He can't possibly think it's ok for you to stay here.

“Dad, that's crazy. I can't just–” Looking away from Billy, you lower your voice, trying not to let him listen. “I can't just ask Billy to stay here dad, this is his place and I don't want to–”

“I've already spoken to Billy and he agreed. Don't worry, he'll be well paid for this... Kindness. But it shouldn't be long. I'll put my men in the investigation. It may be just for some weeks.”

“Let me talk to her.” Your mother says, and soon enough you hear her voice through the phone. But after making sure you're ok, she goes on about the usual stuff. How well you should behave, mostly now, that you'll be living with an employee. And how Billy will be now serving you since he'll be paid for this ‘job’ once this is over. So you just listen, rolling your eyes more times than you can count, muttering a ‘yes’ or a ‘fine’ now and then. It goes on for several minutes until your father takes over, telling you to take care of yourself and hanging up.

Unable to believe what just happened, you put the phone down, slowly walking over to the table, not sure what the look on Billy's eyes means. “I'm sorry for... For this.”

“Your father just hired me for another job, that's all.” There's something on his tone you don't understand, but you don't think he'd answer if you ask.

What you know for sure is that this is a mess, a situation that's complicated for everyone. And of course you're not comfortable with this, having Billy forced to endure you at his place for... Weeks. “Billy, look... I had a nice time today. I had more fun in a couple of hours with you than I have with my friends. And I know this sucks but maybe we can make it work.” Drumming your fingers on the table, you avoid looking at him. “It can be a job, formal, and I can behave just like my mother told me over the phone or it can be an extension of that walk on the beach.”

“Alright.” He breathes out, and you feel a little relieved. “But this is nothing like your house, as you probably already noticed.”

Giving one more look around, you take in the simple kitchen, which is very well organized and clean. “I think your place is fine.” Billy scoffs, walking around the table. “What?”

“Come. There's only one bedroom and I guess it's yours for as long as you'll be staying here.”

“Absolutely not.” Exclaiming, you hesitate a little before following him through the small hall. “I can take the couch, it's no big deal.”

Billy opens the second door, gesturing for you to get inside. “It's small and plain, but I guess you'll manage to sleep just fine.” Billy's bedroom has faded blue walls, two windows, and a double bed set in between them. A wardrobe, a dresser, and a nightstand, on the right side of the bed. There are some posters on the wall, and you pace around, taking a look at them.

“It's cozy, I like it.” Turning on your heels to face him, you manage a small smile. “But I mean it. I'll take the couch. It's more than enough that you're being forced to have me in here.”

“What would your father say if he knew I was making his precious daughter sleep on the couch?”

“First of all, I don't think he has to know. And second, I don't care.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take a deep breath. “We can take turns then if you like.”

“Alright. Today is your turn, you need it more than me.”

“Yeah...” Reality kicks in, and you realize that for a moment you forgot why you're even here. “Can I take a shower? I mean, I'll have to sleep on this dress but...”

“I can give you some of my shirts if you don't mind.” When you nod, he moves to his dresser, searching for a while before handing you a dark blue shirt. “There's a bathroom there and another in the hall. But this one is bigger, so... You should use it.”

“Alright.” Hugging the shirt against your chest, you walk over to the bathroom.

“Use the green towel. Is clean and–”

“Thanks, Billy. I'll be alright.” Giving him one last glance, you walk in, locking the door behind your back.

When you're done, you stare in the mirror as you try to decide what to do with your dress. That's what you were thinking about for the thirty minutes you've been in the shower because you don't want to think about anything else. The explosion, the smoke, the people you know being held hostage... Gisele's death. The fact that it could've been you...

Taking a deep breath, you decide to throw the dress away, so you take it with you when you leave the bathroom, finding the bed made, with two pillows set on the edge. Leaving the dress folded on the dresser, you decide to lie down. You'll probably have nightmares, no doubt, but trying to stay awake won't last long since you're tired, very sleepy already. Tossing around to lie on your side, you hug the spare pillow.

You're almost falling asleep when the door is open, and so are your eyes, following Billy as he comes in. When his eyes meet yours he halts, seemingly surprised, a funny expression on his face that makes you chuckle. “What?” You ask in a low voice.

“Nothing, just... It's weird to have a girl on my bed.” He shrugs his shoulders, moving to look for something in his wardrobe.

“Uhm... I honestly doubt that.” It was Gisele who kept reminding you of Billy's behavior. Going so far as naming the girls he was seen with as if you knew any of them. As if she knew any of them. But the memory that made you so angry earlier, feels weird now. Empty, distant. “How many girls have already slept in this bed?”

“You're the first.” When he says that, you move to sit up straight, eyebrows furrowed. “I don't bring girls here.”

“Why?”

“Just an old rule of mine. There's no reason to let them in, they won't last.” Billy turns to face you, a hand holding blankets and a pillow as the other closes the wardrobe doors.

“And why don't they last?” The moment you ask, you regret it. “Nevermind. I'm just a little too curious.” Looking down at your hands, you blush. You're already invading his house, you can't invade his personal life too.

“Do you wanna sleep or do you wanna talk about my love life?” He scoffs, slowly making his way to the door. “Or the lack of it.”

“We're on the same boat then.” You giggle, running a hand through your hair and pushing back a yawn.

“You? That's something I don't believe, princess.”

Your head slows down at the pet name, and by the way Billy stops by the door, shifting his way from one leg to another, you can tell he's a bit surprised too. “Well... You know the options I have so...” Your mind quickly goes through the boys your mother and friends talk to you about. Some of them were kidnapped. But you push this thought back, not wanting to call in more bad dreams than you'll probably already have. “I'll die alone.”

“I'm sure your mother wants you to marry someone. Rich and powerful, of course.”

“Absolutely. So we can join our fortunes.” Kneeling on the bed, you give your voice a dramatic tone. “And make the family even richer and have very rich babies who will inherit more money than they could ever spend in a normal lifetime.” Rolling your eyes, you drop to the bed again, folding both legs beneath you. “Some shit like that.”

“But you always do what's expected of you. Your mother will end up pushing you into someone and you gave up arguing with her so...” Billy shrugs his shoulders, and you ask what this is. How exactly you got into this matter, and why is he making you see through the flaws of your existence. Damn, you're so sleepy. You're not thinking straight.

“I'd leave California before she forces me into it.” This certainty hits you like a brick, and you know you'll do it. You'll get your girly pink Cadillac, throw your luggage in the back, and drive away. “California never felt like home to me anyway.” You mutter, suddenly feeling empty. “I'll get some sleep now, Billy Hargrove. I'm done with opening my heart for today.” Not waiting for him to leave, you lie back down, pulling the blankets up. When you hear the door closing you take a deep breath, closing your eyes once again.

There's something about Billy. You've known some of your friends for many years, but you never spoke to them about the things you've spoken to Billy. He makes you feel different, like you're free to do and say the simple things you could never share with anyone else. Or maybe it's just the sleep taking over, you're not sure. But from all the people on Earth that you know, you're glad you got to do this with Billy. At least here you won't have to put on an act.

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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derireo · 5 years ago

Note

may i request,,soff hugcanons for itaru,misumi,tsumugi and azuma after they havent seen reader for awhile (sorry if thats too much its fine if u wanna shorten it thank u 💕)

np!! i got everything for u right here <3

Itaru, Misumi, Tsumugi, Azuma: They Miss You

He doesn't like showing it, but he's one of the needy types when you two haven't seen each other for a long time. Either because of work or because your schedules overlap, Itaru gets quite frustrated when he doesn't see you every two or three days.

He starts cursing under his breath more and runs his fingers through his hair, and you two normally don't text because he's always playing a game on his phone and can't afford to be interrupted during it.

At times, when he feels that he's had enough of this separation, he'll text you late at night when he has nothing else to do: 'Yo. Let's meet at the convenience store or smth."

And then he'll don his usual tracksuit combo, but sub the jacket with his bomber. U know the one.

He breathes a huge sigh of relief when he sees you waiting for him at the front of the store with your hands in your pockets and your cap on low. You almost look like a sketchy stranger, but Itaru knows better

"You look creepy like that, Dummy." He'd tease you and flip your cap off your head with a cheesy grin. You'd scurry after him when he enters the store, cap on his head as he bites into a lollipop he had saved in his pocket earlier.

He buys whatever snacks you're craving for and adds an energy drink for himself. When you've got all your supplies, the both of you share a seat outside, with you curled up in his lap.

You're feeding both him and yourself as he plays a game on his phone, wrapped up in his jacket and arms as the cool night breeze rustles your hair.

This becomes the usual routine whenever you guys are stuck with a heavy schedule during the day.

Surprisingly, Misumi is someone who doesn't show he misses you until he actually bumps into you.

It's almost like he completely forgot LOL

Okay, but fr, when he bumps into you he gasps.

"Ah!!! I missed you!!!" He exclaims and launches himself at you with a laugh. It's so all of a sudden that it makes both of you nearly topple over, but he saves you with his quick reflexes.

He's been so busy looking for triangles (and sleeping) that he almost totally forgot about you. No offense, really, but his mind is so taken up with triangles, acting, and onigiri that he'll temporarily forget about anything else.

When he does see you, you take up all of the space in his head!!!! He's basically got tunnel vision on and he can only focus on you!

"Where have you been?" He'd ask curiously. I don't think he has a phone (unless it's canon) so it's pretty difficult to contact Misumi at all. Most of the time you get updates from Kazunari since he's closer in age with Misumi than the other troupe members, but they're all weird messages lol

You explain why you have been so busy lately, but Misumi waves it off since it's not really a bother. Literally he couldn't care less, he just wants to talk. Idk why he asked pft I'm writing this shit

He takes you on a walk since whenever he goes out, the weather is always super nice! Not too hot, not too cold, but just right!

He's always holding your hand; he's a bit worried he'll lose you if he doesn't.

You go eat snacks with him at some point and he babbles on and on about how he was thinking of you and was trying to figure out a way to track you down.

You cough,,, Ahem . . . Bebs u don't have a phone....

You actually offer to give him one of ur old phones so you can talk through a messaging app but he quickly makes an X with his arms to decline.

"It's fun when I talk to you with Kazu!" He beams and you don't have the heart to say anything but....

Kazunari had the same idea as you though so the very next day you actually receive a message from Misumi himself LOL

'There's triangles!!!!! ∆∆∆☆'

He gets fidgety when you're not around; doing things like fiddling with the watch on his wrist, readjusting his sleeves, or tapping a pen on his leg. He got real used to you being in his arms most of the time, and he doesn't know what to do when he's not doing it.

Tasuku ends up noticing right away and he rolls his eyes, suggests that Tsumugi make the move first and see you at whatever place you're chilling at.

Tsumugi gets flustered when he's caught thinking about you, and he shakes his head and slaps the back of his neck with an awkward smile as he claims that he doesn't want to disturb you.

"Look. I don't really know much about dating, but if you want to see them just say something."

So with what little skills he has with technology, manages to call you! And even manages to set a time and place to meet the next day!

His heart flutters when he sees you at your designated meeting place and immediately starts to walk faster to greet you!!!

He brought a couple of flowers too because he passed by a flower shop on his way to you.

You jump up when you see him come inside and both of you immediately latch onto each other for a hug. It's a warm, very tight hug that smells like vanilla and cherry blossoms and you're getting happy just because of it.

You're both giggling excitedly when you pull away, and Tsumugi cups your cheeks in his hands to give your widdle nose a kiss!

"I missed you." He pouts and you pout back at him, motioning for him to sit in the seat that was across from yours.

His energy never dissipates as you both talk about how your week has been going, and you know he's listening in earnest when he brushes his thumb along the back of your hand while staring at you with wide, sparkling eyes.

You guys definitely have the best dates when you haven't seen each other in a while.

Azuma's emotions are really difficult to pinpoint. Not many can tell when he's missing you other than Sakyo, who spends the most time with him out of all of the dorm members.

He tends to stare off into space when he's thinking about you, and it looks really poetic when he has a mug in his hand because he traces the rim with his index finger as he looks lost in thought.

The corners of his mouth will be tilted upward as his mind races with images of you laughing and smiling, and he slumps forward in his seat as he cups his mug in his palms. He really loves it when you look at him like that.

Sakyo gets a little disgusted sometimes and tells him straight away that Azuma needs to go and see you or something.

Only thing is that Azuma isn't fond of going out during the day because of the sun (it's canon don't @ me) so you two actually have a bit of trouble seeing each other considering you don't find it safe to venture outside at night.

BUT!!!!!!!! Azuma drives! :o

It'll take him some time to find the location you send him on his phone, but he . . . . . gets there

His smile is all coy when you enter the car, but the 'I've missed you.' that falls from his lips is unmistakable.

You two go out and eat at one of those nice cafes that are open late at night as bars aren't in question anymore. He used to go and drink with clients, but it wasn't something he wanted to do with you. He felt you deserved more than just a couple lousy drinks at some stinky place.

And once you guys find a nice seat at the window, he's all over you <3 He wraps his arm around your shoulders first and scoots your chairs closer so that they're touching. He waits for you to lean into his side on your own, and when you're relaxing, his other arm comes, a hand resting on your thigh as you tuck your head against the spot between his neck and shoulder.

It's very chill, and you two talk idly about what has been going on lately as you take sips from your drinks.

You two end up staying very late at the cafe... ;; Haha

#i wrote this rlly fast idk how #a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! imagines #a3! headcanons #itaru chigasaki #misumi ikaruga #tsumugi tsukioka #azuma yukishiro

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babygirlkiki1016 · 4 years ago

Text

Dead in the water

Me and Dean sat on the edge of the bed like two teenagers in trouble as Sam was pacing the room, trying to think on what he should say. Finally he stops and looks at the both of us with his arms crossed.

"So let me get this straight, you tell her you wanna wait till she's eighteen but then you decide screw it?"

"....Sammy-" Dean begins to say but Sam cuts him off.

"Dean if your gonna be with her then you can't have sex till she's eighteen."

"Your ove- wait...what? So hold on your ok with this?"

"Yeah, I mean it was gonna happen sooner or later. It's hard for you to stay away from a beautiful lady anyways." I blushed at Sam's comment.

"Well that's new." Dean mutters and he grabs a lock of my hair, making me look over at him.

"What?"

"Your hair it's pink and purple."

"So two emotions at once? I'm guessing pink is love....and purple is fear. So your nervous and feeling loved at the same time!" Sam grabs his laptop and begins taking even more notes.

"Aren't you guys afraid if me?....I mean this isn't normal, don't you guys think I'm a monster or something?" I wondered, was I a monster? Is this what happened to me years ago? Is this what dad was talking about, about how he didn't trust John because...something happened to me?

"Well you certainly have powers, but you can't control it besides you don't know what's going on."

"And you haven't killed anyone." Dean adds.

"But why is this happening now? When I was at home none of this was happening....maybe I should call dad..."

"No, we can't risk him finding us, the next time you call him he'll probably be ready....and I don't want you to go..." Dean admits, while scooting closer, I could tell he wanted to kiss me.

"You two get a room! Wait no, don't do that." Sam laughs, "Alright love birds we need to get back to the subject at hand." He starts researching about the case we're working on, Dean was still staring at me. "Dean!" Sam yells, catching his attention. "Day dream later, work now, you need to take Y/n to get a few things."

"Like what?" He asked.

"Tattoo, gun that kind of stuff, if she's gonna be a hunter then she needs to have the supplies."

"W-Wait what tattoo?" I stutter and Dean points to the pentagram on his chest.

"It's so we don't get possessed, don't worry I'll be there with you."

"Ok, and a gun? I mean why not just use the ones we already have in the back of the impala?"

"Cause you need your own, one that you can carry with you at all times." Dean gets up, puts his shirt back on then grabs the keys to baby. "C'mon we'll get you prepared while Sam does his nerdy thing." I chuckle and follow after him, while grabbing his hand to hold it. He didn't even question it, he pulled me in and kissed my lips, making me yearn for more. Sadly the kiss didn't last long, if we stood there any longer Sam probably would've come out. When we got in the car, the whole drive to the tattoo parlor we were jamming out to eye of the tiger. Which I was still humming it while I was sitting in the chair getting the pentagram on my (wherever you decide to put it.)

"That's a pretty good spot." Dean commented, as he sat next to me.

"Thank you." I grinned, he smiled but it slowly faltered over time, making me grab his hand, squeezing it. "You ok?" I asked worriedly.

"...What happened at the motel can't happen again." He didn't even look at me it was like he was ashamed, did he regret what we did?

"Why not?" He didn't answer, I grabbed his chin and made him face me. Sighing he scoots closer as he lowers his voice.

"Your seventeen Y/n...."

"So? We only have (how many months until you birthday.) I'm technically eighteen already."

"One I don't wanna get arrested and two, we met about about three weeks ago. Don't you think we're moving a little to fast?"

"According to Sam you bone a girl on every case, or at least try to, and your saying it's a little to fast?"

"Good point, but....I just want you to be sure this-" He points to himself, as if himself was a problem. "-is what you want."

"....You are what I want, if you weren't I wouldn't have kissed you. Although if you wanna wait....I respect your decision." That made him smile, he leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"Thank you, now I believe your tattoo is done." I looked down at it, it was sexy as hell. After we payed for it, we went on the road again. When we crossed over the bridge I asked Dean if we could stop to see the lake and look at the sunset. Hesitantly he agreed and pulled over, I got out excitedly. The lake was a dark blue mixed in with pink and orange from the sun, it made me sad to think it was gonna be gone soon.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Not as beautiful as you." Dean flirted making me blush as he pulled me closer by the waist. He started to lean in, those rough lips covering my soft ones.

"I thought we couldn't do this again."

"I meant almost having sex, kisses are something we can definitely do." He smirked and leaned back in again, and as his lips brushed against mine his phone rang. Angrily he sighed and answer it, it was probably Sam.

"What? No we're not!" The look on his face made me giggle as he looked over at me. He started moving his hand, pretending it was Sam who talks to much. "We'll be there in twenty minutes Sam, we still gotta get a gun. Sam, Sammy we're fine....alright we'll be there as soon as we can. Mhm ok bye."

"He's certainly a talker huh?"

"It's a nightmare on how much he can talk...now where were we? Oh yeah I remember." He pulled me back to his side. "Might as well steal as many kisses I can get before we head back to the kiss police." He smirked and smashed his lips against mine once more as his arms wrapped around me. This time it wasn't just a normal kiss, I fought for dominance, my tongue asking for entry. Biting his lip he pulled back, "Y/n keep doing that and I just might say screw it again.." As he said that he slipped from my grasp. "No I promised myself I can wait...c'mon let's get back to Sam." Sighing in disappointment I got back in the car, I guess he's really serious about this.

"I found something." Sam says as we sit next to him. "So there's the three drowning victims this year."

"Any before that?" I wondered.

"Uh, yeah." Sam has a browser window open to The Lake Manitoc Tribune. "DROWNING TAINTS ICE FISHING FESTIVAL." It says, he clicks, and another browser window comes up, again The Tribune: 12-YEAR-OLD Girl DROWNS IN LAKE, Second drowning in 6 months at Lake Manitoc. "Damn, so six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."

"So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?" Dean jokes as he grabs a beer, he hands the both of us one.

"Dean no." Sam tries to take it away from me.

"Aww c'mon Sammy one beer won't hurt." Dean winks at me, both of the boys stare at me as I take a sip without any reaction. "See what'd I say? She's fine."

"So this whole lake monster theory." I try getting them back on track. "It, it just bugs me."

"Why?" Sam looks at me in confusion.

"Loch Ness, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing." Sam looks at the Tribune homepage once more.

"Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it." Sam states as he scrolls to the comments section of an article, I point to one.

"Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?" I remember that name, I thought, it's so familiar. Sam reads from the page.

"Christopher Barr, the victim in May." Sam clicks a link, opening a new page. "LOCAL Man IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT." The picture loads and it shows a police officer with Lucas. "Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." Sam clicks the picture for a better look, then scratches his head. "Maybe we have an eyewitness after all."

"That kid must be so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over....." I felt bad, but so far Lucas is our only lead, hopefully he'll help us. We headed to the park planning to talk to Lucas who was our only witness. Kids are laughing and playing as Andrea sits on a bench and watches her kid. Who is at another bench coloring and playing with toy soldiers.

"Can we join you?" Sam asks and Andrea looks up.

"I'm here with my son." She says as I spot Lucas and so does Dean.

"Oh. Mind if we say hi?" Dean asks, and he lightly grabs my arm signaling for me to come with.

"Why are you bringing me with you?"

"Cause of he doesn't talk, then hopefully you can convince him." We approach Lucas, who's drawing a picture.

"How's it going?" Dean kneels down next to the bench where Lucas is coloring, when Lucas doesn't even look up, Dean picks up one of the toy soldiers.

"Oh, I used to love these things." Dean imitates guns and explosions, I chuckle as he tosses the toy soldier down.

"I think crayons is more his thing Dean. That's cool, besides I like to draw myself, including painting." I noticed that he has a pile of drawings on the bench. Dean takes a look, the top one is of a big black swirl, the second one is of a red bicycle.

"Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if we sit and draw with you for a while?" Dean asks, he picks up a crayon. "I'm not so bad myself."

"Oh really?" I ask.

"Yea I'm a pretty good artist."

"Mhm...we'll see." I grab a crayon and a piece of paper, and start drawing. "Can you draw a bird?"

"Oh so this is a competition? Your on."

Dean sits on the bench, picks up a pad of paper, and starts drawing. "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something." Dean says to Lucas. "You don't think anyone will listen to you, or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake...hm?" I say, Dean sighs. "Okay, no problem. This is for you." Dean holds out to Lucas the picture he drew, it's stick figures. "This is my family." Dean points at each person in turn. "That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me, then a little birdy in the sky-" Dean stops talking as he sees my drawing, which was a lot more detailed than his.

"I thought you could draw Dean." I giggle.

"All right, so I'm a sucky artist...." Dean waits for any sign from Lucas, hoping he would chime in but nothing. "Well see you around, Lucas." Dean heads back to Sam and Andrea, I smile, he seems really good with kids, I thought.

"Here." I place my drawing next to Lucas. "You can keep it...just know of you need anything, I'm here." Him still not responding, I make my way to the others.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident." I hear Andrea say.

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry." Dean says softly.

"What are the Doctors saying?" I ask.

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress." She explains.

"That can't be easy. For either of you." Sam intervenes.

"We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..."

"Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with." Dean smiles and looks over at me, making me roll my eyes.

"You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish-" Andrea goes silent as Lucas walks up, carrying a picture.

"Hey sweetie, you ok?" I kneel and smile, he hands me the picture. "Thank you..." It's a picture of the Carlton house....

Me and Dean are inside the motel room, I'm sitting at the table and Dean is sitting on a bed. Sam went to the library to get some books so we were alone.

"Y/n? Here." Dean suddenly speaks, he pats the seat next to him. I slowly walk over and sit next to him.

"You ok?"

"Yeah...About earlier, on the bridge...."

"Dean..."

"It's not that I don't want to I do trust me I do...."

"Don't apologize, it's ok I understand..." He glances over at me, his eyes showed a little bit of lust. We both started to lean, this feels wrong, I thought, but yet so right. We've only known each other for a few weeks, yet I wanted him more as his lips brushed against mine. Our lips connect, making me scoot closer but Dean pulls back again.

"We can't..." Yet he kisses me again muttering over and over one more. I slipped onto his lap, straddling him while pulling closer. Before we could possibly go any farther Sam opens the door and comes in as we quickly seperate.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie." He says, unaware of what was going on.

"What do you mean?" I questioned, Sam sits across from me and Dean.

"I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

"He drowned?" Dean asks.

"Yep. In the sink."

"What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else."

"Yeah, but what?"

"I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source."

"The lake, that's the source." I chime in. "Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months so whatever this thing is, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere." Sam says as Dean stands up.

"This is gonna happen again soon. And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton."

"Yeah, it took both his kids." Dean growls.

"I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris, is Bill Carlton's godson."

"Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

We left to go to the Carlton house a s spotted Bill sitting on the bench on the dock. Sam speaks "Mr. Carlton?" He looks up, wondering who we are

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

"We're from the, the Department-" Bill cuts Dean off.

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today."

"Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death-we think there might be a connection to you or your family." I explain.

"My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please." Realizing we weren't gonna get any where we decide to head back to the car.

"What do you guys think?" Sam ask.

"I think the poor guy's been through hell. I also think he's not telling us something." Dean guesses, Sam leans on the Impala.

"So now what?" I ask, Dean goes still "What is it?"

"Huh...." Dean is looking at the Carlton house. "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something. Y/n do you have the picture Lucas gave to you?" I nod and pull it out, the picture Lucas brought him, which is of the Carlton house.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea." Andrea says, we decided to give Lucas another visit hoping he'd talk to us.

"We just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes." I plead.

"He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?"

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there." Sam explained.

"My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all."

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son." Dean looks at her, hoping she'll say yes. Silently she agrees leads us into Lucas room with Sam and Andrea behind us, he's coloring, toy soldiers standing around him. We enter and Dean crouches down by Lucas. "Hey, Lucas. You remember us?" I notice Lucas has drawn two more pictures of a red bicycle. "You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, we need your help again." Lucas is drawing a person in water. Dean opens the house picture and puts it down in front of Lucas.

"How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me." He ignores Dean and keeps coloring. I slowly walk over and sit down in front of him. "You're scared. It's okay. I understand." Dean told him. "See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom...I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom-I know she wants me to be brave. Cause she taught me to be brave. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too...its ok if you don't want to, but I really need your help." Lucas drops his crayon and looks up at Dean then at me. He hands me a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and red bicycle in front of a wooden fence.

"Thanks, Lucas." I smile, which he returns making me fill with happiness. After we left Andrea's house the three of us are standing infront of the Impala, Sam examining the church picture.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died." Dean speaks.

"There are cases-going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies." Sam groans.

"It's all part of the process." I chime in. "Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?"

"You mean magically?" Dean asked, confused.

"Yeah, I mean he might be connected but he doesn't even know...but what does the church have to do with this?"

"I don't know, but the only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." Sam looks at the picture. "See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

"Oh, college boy thinks he's so smart." Dean comments.

"Well what about the church we passed by when we drove into town?" I wondered which the boys thought it wouldn't hurt. So we drove to the white church shaped like the one in Lucas's picture. There's a yellow house next to the church and a wooden fence near the house. When we got to the door, I knocked and a woman answered. We told her we were FBI, at first she was hesitant but eventually let's us in.

"Im sorry to mother you ma'am, but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle." I ask.

"No Ms, Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now." She sighs, and I notice a picture of Peter on the side table. "The police never-I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared." Sam points out to Dean a number of toy soldiers on a table. Just like the ones at Luca's house, I thought, so I was right. "Losing him-you know, it's...it's worse than dying." She explained, however I felt someone staring at me, it was Dean. When we make eye contact he looks away, cheeks burning.

"Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?" Dean asks.

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up." Sweeny answers, I start to walk around and pick a picture off the mirror. There are two boys in the picture, one Peter with a bicycle. I read the back of the picture, the words made my eyes go wide. "Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy." I mutter, after the visit with Mrs. Sweeny, we decide to go talk to Bill again. "Mr. Carlton?" Sam calls out as we walk up to the house, we hear an engine roar. We run around the house to see Bill going out on the lake in his boat. "Hey, check it out." Dean says, pointimg towards the lake. We start to run to the end of the dock, yelling. "Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!"

He ignores us and keeps going, the boat was to far out, all I could see was the water rising up, making Bill's boat flip over.

After the accident me, Sam, Dean, and Jake walk in the door of the police station. Andrea looks over, "Sam, Y/n, Dean." She stands up, putting the bag and a container on her chair. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"So now you're on a first-name basis." Jake says. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you dinner."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time."

"I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

"Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home." Lucas looks up and whines, looking stricken. He jumps up and grabs my arm, pulling and tugging.

"Lucas, hey, what is it?" I kneel down, it was like he was trying to get a message to me but couldn't form the words. "Lucas?"

"Lucas." Andrea calls.

"Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay." I say and was about to comfort him when Andrea pulls him away from me and leads him outside. He doesn't look away from me however. Jake throws down his jacket and goes into his office. The three of us follow behind. "Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill-who is a very good swimmer, by the way-into the drink, and you never see him again?" Jake summarizes, Dean glances at me.

"Yeah, that about sums it up." Dean mutters.

"And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service." Dean looks surprised. "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three."

"See, now, we can explain that."

"Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good." Sam says but I was about to protest.

"That's the one I'd pick." After that we left, packed our stuff an left. I was pissed, there is something happening here and we're just gonna leave? The three of us are in the Impala, waiting at a traffic light. A sign says I-43 North to Milwaukee is to the left. The light turns green, but the Impala doesn't move, after a few seconds Dean turns right.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Thats what I'm wondering to. Dean, this job, I think it's over." Sam tells him.

"I'm not so sure." Dean says.

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"Deans gotta point, I don't think this is over either." I agree.

"But why would you think that?" Sam questioned.

"Because Lucas was really scared."

"That's what this is about?" Sam groans.

"I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay." Dean agrees.

"Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?" Sam chuckles and Dean glances at Sam.

"Shut up."

We arrived back at the Barr's and stood out there for at least a good five minutes.

"Are you sure about this? It's pretty late." Sam asks us, Dean rings the doorbell. At that moment, Lucas opens the door, desperately afraid.

"Lucas? Lucas!" I yell but he takes off. We follow him to the hallway, water is pouring out from under the bathroom door and down the stairs. Lucas starts pounding on the bathroom door again. Dean pushes him over to Sam and I kick in the door. Lucas grabs Dean and me, so Sam runs into the bathroom and sticks his arms in the tub, trying to pull Andrea out. She is pulled back under, and Sam is struggling, so I run over and help him out. The force is strong but not strong enough, we keep pulling until Andrea is all the way out. As soon as she's out she starts coughing up water, later Andrea is sitting in the living room, dry and wearing comfortable clothing.

"Can you tell me?" Sam asks, who is sitting next to me.

"No." She answers. Dean and I were looking through notebooks on bookshelves, to see if anything that is happening would relate to the situation.

"It doesn't make any sense." She starts crying. "I'm going crazy." She puts her face in her hands.

"No, you're not. Tell me what happened. Everything." Sam pleads.

"I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice."

"What did it say?"

"It said...it said 'come play with me'. What's happening?" Dean pulls out a scrapbook that says "Jake - 12 years old" and opens it, flipping pages. He closes it again, nudges me and we go over to Sam. He puts the book down in front of Andrea, open to a picture of Explorer Troop 37. "Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?"

"What? Um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures." She moves her finger over to another picture of Jake as a child, he is standing next to Peter. Dean looks at Sam, then me.

"Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the Sheriff."

"Bill and the Sheriff-they were both involved with Peter." I muttered

"What about Chris? My dad-what are you talking about?" She asks, I look over to Lucas. "Lucas?" I call, he is staring out the window.

"Lucas, what is it?" Dean asks, Lucas opens the door and walks outside. We all follow him, he look determined.

"Lucas, honey?" Andrea calls as he stops and looks at the ground, then at Dean. "You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" Dean says and Andrea pulls Lucas back to the house. Dean and Sam presumably fetch shovels from the Impala, before they start digging. After five minutes later I hold out my hand.

"Here Sam, I'll take over, why don't you go inside?" He nods and heads inside after handing me the shovel, so now it's just me and Dean. It was silent for a little while, until I spoke. "So, we gonna talk about it?" Dean glances at me.

"About what?"

"...The kiss, that Sam sort of ruined." He laughs.

"Well uh...what is there to talk about?" He stops, making me stop as I walk over to him, lightly placing my hand on his. "Dean I...Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why kiss me? I mean do you...love me? Or is this just a fling." He goes silent for a second, but speaks.

"I don't know what I feel...however when I'm with you I'm happy..." I smile, I make him happy, I thought. "Y/n...I know your seventeen, but I want to be with you. So will you be my girlfriend?" Quickly I nod which makes a flower bloom on his features. He slams his lips against mine. He drops the shovel and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. Sam clears his throat while laughing silently and we pull away, both of our cheeks red. "Am I interrupting?" I chuckle and we go back to digging as awkwardness fills the air. My shovel clanks against something, and me and Dean dig with our hands, pulling out a red bicycle.

"Peter's bike." I whisper.

"Who are you?" Jake growls from behind us, pointing a gun.

"Put the gun down, Jake." I tell him.

"How did you know that was there?"

"What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried."

"I don't know what the hell your talking about."

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about." Just then Andrea runs up yelling. "Dad!"

"And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit." Dean mentions.

"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does." I tell Jake, he scoffs.

"Yeah, and how do you know that?"

"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton." Sam explains.

"Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake." Dean begs.

"Dad, is any of this true?" Andrea asks, voice shaking.

"No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous."

"Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me." Jake does. "Tell me you-you didn't kill anyone." He looks away in shame. "Oh my God."

"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." Jake tells us and Dean glances at Sam. "Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational."

"All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now." Dean warns, but Andrea turns her head and spots Lucas going down to the lake, she gasps. We turn to what she's looking at, "Lucas!" I yell and I run up to the dock. Lucas is leaning over the side, reaching for a toy soldier in the water. "Lucas!" Dean yells.

"Lucas! Baby, stay where you are" Andrea yells. A hand comes up and pulls Lucas into the water. The adults have reached the edge of the lake. Jake stops as Peter's head is visible, Jake recognizes him. We keep running to the end of the dock.

"Oh my God!" Andrea yells. She takes off her jacket to jump in.

"Andrea, stay there!" I say and I jump in, I could hear Andrea trying to get to Lucas.

"We'll get him! Just stay on the dock!" Sam pleads. I could see Lucas at the bottom and I swim down there to get him. He was being dragged down, I swim faster, what I didn't understand is Lucas was let go and started floating upwards. Did the ghost just let him go? That doesn't matter, I grab Lucas and swim back to the surface. I emerge while holding Lucas, who isn't moving.

The three of us walk out of the motel, Dean opens his car door and Sam tosses a duffel in.

"Look, we're not gonna save everybody." Sam says, he was referring to Jake who died to save Lucas.

"I know." Dean sighs.

"Sam, Dean." Andrea walks up with Lucas. "Hey." Me and Dean say at the same time. "We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road." Lucas is carrying a tray of sandwiches.

"Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas excitedly asks.

"Of course." Andrea smiles and kisses his head.

"Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car." Dean says.

"How you holding up?" I ask Andrea.

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?" I sigh. "Andrea, I'm sorry, if I knew-" She silences me and shakes her head.

"You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that." I smile as Dean walks up to me with Lucas.

"All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!" Lucas laughs.

"That's right. Up high." Dean holds his hand up for a high-five. Lucas obliges, grinning.

"You take care of your mom, okay?"

"All right." The both of them leave, Dean smiles and gives me a peck on the lips, then goes around the car.

"Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

"Yeah yeah ok." Sam chuckled as we all got in, continuing with our adventure.

The New Hunter Masterlist

@samsgirl93 @nani-gram @eliwinchester99

#dean supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean x y/n #sam winchester smut #sam x you #supernatural

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themousefromfantasyland · 4 years ago

Text

The Yule Man (1/7)

As told by ME

This was meant to be a short story, but it became too big, so I separated it in seven parts. I want to turn my blog in a space where I can share my writting every once and a while.

This is the first time I post one of my stories on a public space. This is the first time anyone besides my sister will be able to read, so I'm pretty exciting and anxious. I want honest criticism. I hope you all enjoy it.

"It's he who brings the Yule ice and snow to Arnsberg." The little girl said.

Everything seemed somehow brighter and warmer on that peaceful afternoon.

The lines of holly hanged above the walls and windows gave an otherworld feel to the street. The jingle of the bells of the market down the avenue helped to remind how happiness sounded like. Silver bells adorned the rooftops. The traditional statues of silver stood on the churches’ terrains.

They promised that the Silver God would once again bless his holy season. The store windows promised an affable and cozy night. That was not what that beggar boy received.

The confectionery attendant shoved him away with all scorn and disdain possible in a man. Why did he should show him kindness? The boy couldn't pay, and he was so filthy dressed he would drive customers away. And as he said beneath his breath while coming back to the store:

"Magic only brings trouble."

Mia Hayek and her baby sister were stepping in their carriage when they saw the scene. The poor young man looked at the sweets in the windows of the confectionery with so much craving. He looked as if he hadn't eaten anything in a long time.

She took out her long wide hat and her cotton scarf and asked her sister if she knew that boy. The little girl, with all sincerity that a child is capable off, responded.

He had a slender and thin body, but the enormous, hooded fur coat worn swallowed it completely. He carried a huge bag of shabby cloth against his back. The fur hood and the cloth around his lower face made it hard to give him an age. Mia was sure he couldn't be older than twenty.

Everyone in Arnsberg knew the boy. Always seen wandering without destination in the Solstice Eve carrying that stained bag. He arrives in town no sooner than the first snow. He stays for the twelve days of the Yule Festival, then he disappears. And no one can find him before the next one.

Mia saw him in the last year. He lived near the park in front of the bakery. The baker shoved him away as if he was a stray dog. He has not changed a thing from then.

"He never changes." Sophia mindlessly added. "Even mother remembers him from her time. He never changes."

Mia stared at the boy. Ragged and disheveled. Time had devoured those clothes, tattered and grimy as they looked.

"Is he magical?" Mia asked.

"Yeah!" Her little sister nodded. "But he can only bring the snow, he can't control it. He's harmless."

"Stay here!" She told her.

Mia stepped out of the carriage and walked in the direction of the boy as fast as her boots allowed. Noticing being followed, he turned. She stopped in the spot.

The hood obscured his face. He maintained his back bended, and he avoided looking into her eyes. By the way he stayed quiet, she knew he was nervous. People dressed like her usually didn't had nice things to say to people dressed like him.

"You're beautiful!" He whispered to himself, hoping only he listened.

She smiled back.

"Thank you!"

She heard and he could only blush in response.

"Sorry, but I always see you around here during this time." She began saying while messing with her curly hair. "The town can get pretty cold. Do you have where to pass the night."

The boy chuckled, and she could see a vague spark in his eyes.

"The cold never bothered me anyway, madam."

"What do you carry with you?" She came forward and touched his long bag. It felt so freezing that she immediately withdrew as by sheer impulse.

He lowered the cloth that covered his face and looked up to her, allowing Mia to take a deep look.

"I... I should already release this thing, but... I got distracted. I wanted to find something to eat first, so..." He sounded so nervous, trying so hard to justify himself, as if fearing punishment.

His face was pale and soft, still with signs of boyhood. His eyes were big and innocent, in bright green. His beard was as red as a fox, and it was shaggy and full of pieces of ice.

"...and now I don't know where to release this stuff."

"Do you have where to spend the holidays?" She interrupted him.

"No." He answered embarrassed.

The question really pierced through him. She saw how it affected him in the wrong way. A second question slipped through her mouth before she could have time to re-evaluate it.

"Do you found somewhere to eat?"

He didn't respond.

She drew his hands, letting his bag land on the ground. It surprised her how soft and warm they were.

"Stay the Yule with us."

Mia could just have brought him food and then forget anything about him in the next day. Any normal person would do that. Maybe she felt a genuine urge to help him. Maybe her pity for him spoke louder. Perhaps she found him too adorable to let go. Whatever the real reason may be, something drew her to him.

"My father is wealthy, but generous. I'm sure he'll allowed it."

He smiled to her by a second, as if he loved the idea, but then he frowned, as if he remembered something.

"I'm sorry. You have been very kind, but I can't."

"Please!" She insisted, her voice cracking a little. "You can't spend the Yule in the streets and in the cold."

""I already used to it."

He forced a sly grin, as if trying to tranquilize her. He continued. "I'm sure you mean well, but it's better that I stay here."

"Our mansion is always open to those who need it, and you'll be well treated there."

"A mansion?" He frowned.

"My father is Mr. Hayek. My name is Mia Angela Hayek. Ravi de vous rencontrer." She greeted him with the dress.

"Never heard of him." He joked.

"Please, stay with us. We...

"Is it comfy..."

"What?" She asked surprised.

He spoke in a tone that made her think of a timid small boy.

"Your mansion. Is it comfy and cozy? That's how I always picture these places to be." He didn't want her to see he smiled.

"Of course." She nodded.

"Does it have a fireplace?"

"Yes. You can drink hot cocoa by it and eat some gingerbread cookies if you want."

"I never eat a gingerbread cookie."

"You can eat all sweets you wish. The kitchen has smelled wonderful since morning. My father is giving a big ball tonight. It will be so full of cakes and sweets. It will make even the most illustrious confectioneries envious."

Mia saw how much the idea pleased him, how much it tempted him to say yes. Yet, something held him back.

Against his better judgment, he said:

"Okay."

The air grew colder on that moment. The winter breeze brought chills down her spine. Whatever it was, the boy felt it too.

"But just for one night." He soon added.

"What's your name?"

"I don't have one." He said while pulling back his bag.

She tilted her head.

"How come you have no name?"

"Never needed one."

James Hayek had all the reasons to be jolly during the holidays. This son of immigrants became the most important merchant in all the North Kingdom. The Hayeks were the wealthiest mixed family in Arnsberg. This filled him with pride, but also a deep sentiment of duty. As a child of Arnsberg by heart he felt as his duty to retribute all his good luck back to the community.

The Hayek Mansion was a charming building located near the road down to Arnsberg, far close to the forest. Mr. Hayek certified himself that its doors would be forever open to the town that welcomed him.

It was the Solstice Eve. Tomorrow the Yule Festival would begin, twelve days of tradition and merriment. A gigantic fir-tree of nine meters was brought to the mansion's courtyard. The servants of the Hayek family surrounded its needles with all sorts of ornaments. They garnished the Yule Tree with silver, gold, and all kinds of jewelry. On its top, the Solstice Sun ornament promised to shine brighter than the real one. Not even Queen Ava's tree in the Royal Palace was as beautiful as the one who stood now in the Hayek Mansion.

Dozens of statues of goats surrounded the tree, all carefully made of pure straw. A somewhat forgotten tradition that Mr. Hayek couldn't let go in any capacity.

Two full tables had been already set. Roast turkeys and ducks, steamed hams and caramelized cods covered the first table.

The second table looked like a small child's fever dream. Colorful palaces of gelatin and chocolate sprinkled with sugar. Snowy towns and castles of gingerbread covered with white marzipan. Fountains and rivers flowing with chocolate. Towers of cakes and pies. Mountain chains of pudding with nuts and chestnuts boulders. It had enough to maddening the youth.

When Mia and Sophia arrived at the Hayek residence, the Yule Log had been already tossed into the fire. Both her and her sister helped the fur-cladded boy stepped out of the carriage. No sooner they crossed the golden gates, the servants already whispered between themselves. They couldn't help but gaze at the peculiar young man with awe and curiosity.

As soon as the girls walked upon the carpet in the living room, their parents rushed to speak to them. When Mr. Hayek first heard the news, he had to come to see it by himself.

"You brought the Yule Man?" He gave a strong laughter that came straight from the bottom of his belly.

The boy didn't know how to react, so he stepped behind the sisters and gave him an awkward smile.

Mr. Hayek was a cheerful and youthful old man. Mrs. Hayek could be the proudest woman the world has ever seen. She fitted the role of the women who dressed to show the world her social status. Her blue eyes had troubles showing affection. Her corn-like hair was stylized in the same way as the fashion magazines. Meticulously armed.

She approached Mia to talk in particular.

"You should be getting dressed." She spoke with veiled bitterness.

Mia tried her best to argue back.

"Sorry mother, I was doing shopping when..."

Her mother definitely didn't want to know. She twisted her eyebrows and said:

"Why are you so irresponsible. I'm tired of sorries. And what are you wearing for the gods' sake" She started yelling.

Mia swallowed her mother's sermons with her best poker face. Since she was a child, she knew how harsh Mrs. Hayek's criticism could be. Nothing different from the woman that searched for defects in everything.

"You know how this night is important. It's your first ball. My daughter shouldn't look like a hag." She took a pause to breath. "Go get dressed!"

Sophia came forward.

"Can the Yule Man spend the Yule with us?" She asked with manipulative eyes.

"You can't bring him here." She whispered while offering a false smile to greet the newcomer boy.

Fritz and Thomas, Sophia's elder brothers, looked at him with intense curiosity.

"Magic always leads to trouble." She put.

"Mother, he needs us." Mia shot back. "Besides not aging, there's not that much he can do. He is harmless."

"Mia, can you stop arguing..." Her mother tried to shut her down as she always did.

Mia had other plans.

"Father..." She turned to Mr. Hayek. "This is the true Yule Man. You can show him to the town's children tonight.

"I like children." His tiny voiced ricocheted off the living room walls. They turned to face him.

"They are nice to me." He said in a small tone behind them.

They almost had forgot he was still there.

"My dear, I don't know..." Mr. Hayek gazed at his unhappy wife.

"Remember when you were young and poor, and they chased you off that department store." She pointed to the boy. “They shoved him out of the confectionery as if he were nothing. He doesn't have where to spend the Yule days. He never had."

Mr. Hayek grew quiet. Not everyone had been nice to him. The way he looked had closed a lot of doors before. He promised to never take part in any judgment by appearances.

"You win." He winked at her. "Okay. Welcome to our Yule party Mr. Yule Man.

The boy looked at Mrs. Hayek. He saw her eyes steaming.

The guest started appearing around the evening. The parties in the Hayek Mansion always yielded weeks of conversation and gossip. They were more accessible than official public events. Open to everyone who wanted to participate. Thanks to that Mr. Hayek received the charming nickname of the "Father of the Poor." from his enemies. He liked it.

In her bedchamber, Mia wore a ballgown that had the color of the winter night sky. A low busted and short sleeved gown that drew attention to her silhouette. It was richly embroidered with snowflake patterns that surrounded her skirt. A delicate bow tied her curly brown hair back, drawing attention to her delicate face. Her strong red lipstick contrasted quite well with her light-brown skin tone.

When she went down the staircase. She gasped at how beautiful her house looked. Decks of holly, ivy and winter roses scattered everywhere. When the Yule Man saw her, he gasped at how beautiful she looked. He raced to her, still with his bag.

"Why are you still wearing this thing?" She pressed her lips together. She sounded just as her mother.

"Sorry If I was too rude. Do you like it?"

"No. No. I don't like this thing at all." He chuckled while eating a huge piece of marzipan with his free hand.

"So, why do you wear it?"

"As if I had a choice." He smirked.

He had finished his attack on the table of sweets. His mouth still was stained with sugar and chocolate. She noticed he had pockets in his suit, because they were full of gingerbread cookies and pieces of cake. The corners of her mouth lifted a smile as soon as she realized it.

When they arrived at the courtyard, the guests already crowded the place. The music had begun. The youthful couples already waltzed together amid the chatter of their families. That scene never failed to fill Mia's eyes, and now she could be officially a part of it. Her first ball as a woman.

She saw her mother approaching.

"What are you wearing." She yelled in her lowest tone.

Mia stood in her defensive position.

"Mother, you promised I could pick my own dress."

Mrs. Hayek exhaled.

"Yeah, I did. You look beautiful."

Mia smiled in relief.

"You too mother."

"You look perfect, and it's Yule, but don't exaggerate on the food." She laughed. "You know how the woman in our family have problems with weight."

Mia forced a yellow smile as a good daughter. As soon as her mother departed, the boy tried to cheer her.

"That was close. You survived the attack of the amazing shrew. Good job."

Mia laughed out loud. He felt proud with himself.

The children on the place couldn't stop looking at him with amazement. She turned to him.

"You don't really have a name?"

His smile disappeared.

"No."

He tried to physically walk out of that social interaction. She followed him.

"Do you at least have parents or relatives?"

He spent a couple seconds thinking.

"I don't know. I believe that I don't."

"Where you go when you aren't in Arnsberg? Do you visit other cities?"

"I prefer not to think about that." He said as politely as he could.

"Can I ask about the bag?" She joked.

He handled the bag over to the other hand.

"Nope!"

He really didn't like the direction of that conversation.

"Can I least ask you about the beard? Do you like it?"

He stopped. He looked at her.

"Not even a little." He laughed. "It's shaggy, it scratches, and it annoys me so much."

"Why you don't shave it?"

"As if I had a choice."

That was getting on her nerves.

"Why wouldn't you have a choice?"

He looked deep into her eyes.

"Because only real people have a choice."

On that same moment, a man wearing a red fur cloak and carrying a sack full of toys and stepped out of the servant’s door. The children gasped and cheered his presence and rushed in his direction. The adults were left amazed. Santa Claus had arrived. By his side, a very tall man came closer, wearing a wooden goat mask and wearing a very thick coat. On his hand he carried birch branches. The children surrounded them in seconds. The Goat-masked man asked in his spookiest voice if they had been nice or naughty that year. Santa had already start delivering the presents to all the children.

Mia nudged him.

"It's my father. He lives by the Yule Festival." She boasted. "He loves to dress like Santa. He's the only black St. Nick in the town."

"I find funny how you always seem to agree that he's an old fat man in red."

He left her confused.

"Excuse me."

"St. Nicholas is way younger than that. And he drinks." He chuckled. "A lot."

She tilted her head and frowned.

"How can you tell? No one can see him."

He stayed quiet.

"Do you know the real Santa?"

He broke the silence.

"He's a good man. He's nice to me. The Yule Goat is bad. He's very bad. He beats children."

He nodded to the goat masked man. Mia saw that it unsettled him a bit.

"Calm down. It's just Edgar, our butler. He likes to scare kids, so every year he dresses like the Yule Goat."

All the kids after receiving their presents ran to his side. Mr. Hayek as the jolly saint came closer to Mia at said in direction of the young man:

"This man..." He certified himself to be heard by everyone. "...is the Yule Man. Today he will show us the magic of the Yuletide season."

The crowd turned and stared at him in intensity. The typical hypocrisy of mortals: They fear magic but can't lose a chance to see it close. The boy himself stayed quiet as a mouse in his spot.

Mia asked in his ear:

"Crowds make you nervous"

"Yep" He almost couldn't be heard.

"I realized."

He walked to the center of the courtyard without saying no more words. Near the fir-tree he tossed his bag on the ground. Mia attended all that closely.

He pulled the knot that tighten the bag closed and opened it. A single snowflake came out first. It flew like a white butterfly in the direction of the wind. Calm, gentle, beautiful. It shimmered like nothing else. Some of the children ran after it and tried to catch. A second came out, and third, and a fourth. The snowflakes then burst out of the bag, billions of them. Small bright crystals that looked more like pixie dust.

He opened his arms and allowed the endless wave of light blast off and fill the skies. The crowd clapped and cheered in a mad frenzy. Mr. Hayek couldn't believe his eyes.

Mia stood there, speechless. The sight took all her ability to think properly.

The Yule Man closed his eyes. He shook both hands together as quick as he could. The bright outburst ceased. The bag dissolved in icicles. As if the world's largest swarm, they dashed up, up into the sky, while the snow started to fall.

He turned back to them.

"And this...This is how the Yule snow comes to Arnsberg."

The crowd clapped in pure ecstasy. He exhaled relieved.

The kids chased him. The adults had troubles understanding what happened. Mia stayed quiet in her thoughts processing everything.

The north wind blew over them all. The boy felt the message sent to him down to his bones. A dark figure appeared in the corner. He knew there were consequences to be dealt with.

Mia searched for him when he appeared and shook her hand.

"I'm grateful for everything..." He started. "... but St. Nicholas saw me. I already violated too many rules."

And he ran away.

"What!"

She stayed behind, left speechless again.

Mia marched to her parents close to the mansion's entrance.

"Father, what did you said to him?"

She took Mr. Hayek by surprise.

"Nothing, I..."

Sophia stopped playing with the other girls and their new toys and walked to them.

"It was not him. It was the real Santa.

"Hey!" His heart broke. He said visibly offended. "How long do you know I am not..."

Mia interrupted him.

"Sophia, why are you talking about?"

"St. Nicholas came here to talk to him."

"How I didn't see him?"

She responded with such innocence that terrified Mia.

"He's invisible to you."

Mia rushed back inside and searched for him everywhere. She found him when he was getting nearer the front gate.

"Why did you leave?" She approached him behind pulled him by the arm. You said you would spend the night here."

"I can't. I simply can't. St. Nicholas talked to me...

"Santa? Santa threatened you?"

"No. St. Nicholas is nice to me." He argued. "Only a few like him are. The North Wind brought him here. He told him how I was breaking the rules. Different from him, I can be seen by mortals. He thinks it's not wise for me to get too close to them, to you."

He paused as soon as he realized how that sentence could be interpreted.

"To you guys, the mortals, your family." The awkwardness possessed his body.

Her forehead furrowed while pressing her lips together.

"What are the rules?"

He scratched his head and lowered it down.

"I arrive to Arnsberg by the first light of the Solstice Eve. I must leave before the first light after the Yule days are over."

Her expression lightened.

"So, you can spend the festival with us."

"Do you even listen to me?" He cried out loud.

She placed her hands over his shoulder.

"Listen, you will not violate any rules. As long as you left..." She gesticulated for him to continue it.

"Before the first light after the Yule days are over." He added.

"I know you liked here. So, what do you say.”?

"Mia, I can't."

She raised her voice.

"So, they want you to spend the holidays in the street?"

"I don't have a choice." His jaw clenched and he shut his eyes.

She drew him closer.

"Yeah, you do."

That simple phrase teared down his walls. He no longer felt the ground under his feet. His eyes teared up.

"Do you really believe that." He said in a cry voice.

She struggled to look him in the eyes now.

"I do." She smiled to him.

He closed his eyes.

"Okay, I will spend the Yule Festival with you."

He heard the wind blowing outside. A very bad omen indeed. For some Mia sensed butterflies on her stomach. She felt a sweet taste in her mouth. Something sweet and warm inside her chest.

"Okay, I will ask Edgar to lead you to the Guest room."

He shook his head.

"It isn't necessary. I hate giving people trouble. I can sleep anywhere."

She raised her eyebrows.

"But you need a name. Can I call you Christopher? I always found a beautiful name."

"Yeah, you can." His eyes twinkled while the corners of his mouth quickly turned up.

She stepped closer.

"Happy Yuletide, Chris!"

#christmas #holiday season #yuletide #my writting #writters on tumblr #my story #winter solstice #The Yule Man

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solo-pitstop-vibes · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Have to Tell Me Twice

A/N: I wrote this one kinda quick, maybe it’s not too bad. I’m trying to really work on my writing so I’m going to try to get the part two for Come Home to Me out soon. Enjoy!

Words: 2,333

"The murmur is gone."

The words that stopped your heart, your breathing, and echoed in your mind for weeks, months, days, and years. The second those four words slipped from your sweet Eugene's lips, your world stopped. You held it together, but that night you cried yourself to sleep. You knew Gene would be shipping off soon, off to fight the war that he had so desperately been trying to claw his way to. You didn't want him to go, you knew better than to beg, so you didn't dare ask him to stay. His heart was with the war, and if he didn't go, his heart would never be at home. So you collected yourself the best you could and came to terms with him leaving. You didn't know how long he'd be gone or if you'd ever see him again. You two had known each other for several years now, him being the first person you met when your family moved to town when you were 13, and now you were inseparable. You and Eugene had just been together as a couple for about 9 months when he shipped out.

Seeing him off at the train station almost broke your heart entirely. Especially when he gave you that adorable half-smile of his standing out on the platform.

"You better not run off and find another gal on your way home when the war is over," you had said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, a small grin on your face.

"I'll try my hardest darlin'. Ain't nobody as pretty as you though, gotta make sure I come home so no one steals the prettiest girl in Mobile out from under me," Eugene smiles that smile that made you fall in love with him all over again, and your blush could be seen a mile away. The whistle of the train caught your attention and broke your smiles. It was time.

"Don't forget, mother and father want you over for supper every Sunday afternoon, and you can take Deacon on a walk anytime you like. Don't be shy, they love you," Eugene reminded you.

"I know, Gene. Thank you for reminding me, I'll make sure to give Deacon extra lovin' since you won't be there to spoil him." That dog had gone everywhere with you two the past few years, he had become like a child between the pair of you. You never saw you two without Deacon. The train whistle blew again, meaning it was time for Eugene to board. Tears had started to well up in your eyes, and Eugene pulled you into a tight embrace.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll be back, I promise. I love you (Y/N)."

You hugged him back with everything in your body before pulling away.

"I love you too Eugene," your hands settled on his chest and his came up to cup your face, pulling your lips to his. You knew the next kiss shared between you two would a very long time from then, but you never thought it would be nearly 4 years later. In your heart, it felt like an eternity.

—

Life had been passing by, but not truly lived while Eugene was away. You had kept Gene's reminder in check, and you had supper with his family every Sunday evening and walked Deacon at least every other day. Since Eugene had been gone, you had moved out of your family's house into a small one bedroom house closer to town. It was exactly what you wanted, and everything you could ask for. Your parents had offered to help you purchase the small home, in exchange that you took classes at Alabama Polytechnic, and kept a small job. Three or four days out of the week after your last midday class, you were an assistant in the office at the elementary school downtown. You always loved seeing the kids during the school year, and when the summers rolled around, they always let you help out the rest of the staff with any repainting they did around the school. Most of the staff had gotten to know you, so they always tried to keep you busy and your thoughts off the constant worry in your mind.

To everyone else, it seemed as if you were doing just fine, but on the inside, you were a pile of shattered glass. Each waking moment was a struggle, every moment was filled with dread and worry. Your worst nightmare was hearing the news that no one wanted to hear, the news that made mothers, fathers, siblings, and significant others crash to their knees and weep. Each letter from Eugene was a small relief, but his letters were filled with glimpses into the hell he was living. He tried his hardest to spare you the gore and the hideous details of each day in the Pacific, but you knew he was struggling to keep it together. You did your best writing him back, you never wanted to glorify the quaint life of Mobile. That was a cruel thing to do to a man in war. Eugene's letters often came months late, and you may only receive one every 3-5 months. When you other best fried, Sidney Phillips returned from the Pacific, he did his best to comfort you when you were down. Although, he was still trying to help himself to recover from the horrors he had seen in the war himself. Since Sid's return home, you both decided to at least have lunch with each other once a week, usually every Tuesday. You were actually the one to help him get up the courage to finally ask Mary Houston it, a girl he had been pinning after since he was a young teenager. After a few months of them dating, Mary started joining you two for lunch, and you and her became friends. This became your routine, every Tuesday you three would meet at the little diner downtown, have lunch, talk, and enjoy each other's company. A year passed and one day, the couple sitting across from you couldn't stop smiling at each other. It warmed your heart to see them so happy together, but this affection was a little more than usual.

"Okay, you two," you giggle, setting your coffee cup down on the table in front of you, "y'all haven't stopped smiling at each other since you walked up. Something tells me that something is goin' on here that I just don't know about yet. You best spill the beans before I have to pull it out of ya."

They both laughed and Sid caught your gaze, a broad smile on his face. It clicked in your head and you already knew what he was about to say. A genuine smile spread across your cheeks, "Well Sid I hate to tell ya, but you might have a few men try to jump you when you announce that the Mary Houston is officially off the market for good." You all laughed and Mary gushed about how romantic it was when Sid asked her to marry him. Their engagement started a new branch of your life that helped you pull through each day. Mary began including you in things with her friends, and she always had a list of things to ask your opinion on each Tuesday. You never let the news break to Gene, Sid said he wanted to break the news to him himself, so you kindly agreed. You helped them plan their small engagement party, which was held at the new banquet hall down by the bay. That night, your heart ached that you couldn't have Eugene by your side, but you put a smile on your face for everyone. The wedding creating a new thread in life for you, which helped brighten your days. The couple decided to wait until the war was over to have the ceremony, mainly due to the fact that Sidney wanted Eugene to be his best man, even though you offered to wear one of Eugene's old suit coats over your dress and be a stand-in. He declined the offer, saying you were too pretty to be standing in for Eugene, that he needed the real deal.

Between the wedding planning, working at the elementary school, and attending college, before you knew it, another year had passed. You were painting a large cartoon farm in one of the halls at the elementary school when the news rang out on the radio nearby. The other ladies helping you paint went frantic.

"The war is over!"

"The troops are coming home!"

"No more war!"

You were stunned, the paintbrush still tight in your hand.

"(Y/n)! Aren't you excited, your lover boy is coming home!" That comment caught you, and the rest of the day, you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

You called Sid the second you got home, questions flying from our lips. When do you think Gene would be home? Do you think he'll come straight home? You also told him to ask Mary what you should wear to the train station. He only laughed and said, "Slow down speedy, I don't know the answer to every question you've got now. We'll just have to hear from Gene first, he can answer more than I can. He might be rounded up for some cleanup work, so it could be another few months, but Mary said she'd come over tomorrow to help you find something."

Turns out a few months ended up being six before you finally got word from Eugene that he'd be home soon. You were ecstatic, well that was more of an understatement. Your mood improved, your smile brightened, and your heart ached less knowing Eugene would be returning home, alive. The exact date of Eugene's arrival was kept strictly between him and Sid, Eugene said he wanted it to be a surprise, which you hated. That boy was going to be the death of you as if he hadn't caused you any heart troubles already. Awaiting Eugene's arrival you tried to keep yourself busy instead of just staring out the window all day, and Eugene's mother was a huge help. It was currently a cool fall evening, you were at the Sledge household helping Mrs. Sledge do some cleaning. She was inside washing some of her glass plates and cups that she had on display in the dining room, and you were outside hanging freshly washed bedsheets, curtains, and other linens. Humming to yourself lightly, you hung up a bedsheet. The soft fabric flowing in the wind as you pinned the corners to the clothesline.

"(Y/N), dear! You have a visitor, I'm sending them out to you," Mary Frank's voice rang out from the back steps. You didn't bother shouting out a response, not wanting to try and yell across the yard. It was probably either Mary Houston or Sidney. Anytime they couldn't find you or get ahold of you, they always came here. You hang up the last sheet in your basket and smooth it out before you finally lookup. Your heart stops, and you freeze in your place. Through the sheets floating in the wind, you catch a glimpse of dark green moving towards you. Maybe I'm just seeing things, you thought.

"Gene," your voice is barely above a whisper, the words struggling to come out. The wind blows harder this time, the sheets floating through the air almost horizontal this time, and that's when you see all of him. The black shoes, the dark green pants, and coat, with a hat to match. He looks so different but just the same, all at the same time. His skin is tan, his shoulders are broader, and he stands taller than before. He makes his way to you, your breathing uneven, your hands shaking. Please don't be a dream, if it is, so help me God. Eugene stands a few feet from you now, that smile that you love so much appearing on his lips. You didn't think your heart could beat any quicker, but, oh boy, weren't you wrong.

"My mother tells me that I'd be able to find the prettiest girl in Mobile out here, you wouldn't happen to know her would ya?"

His voice was slightly deeper, rougher but it sends waves of comfort through you. A smile broke out on your face, a faint blush covering your cheeks. Before you knew it, your body lurched towards Eugene's and you had wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eugene gently pulled your head from his neck, using his thumbs to wipe the tears. "Don't waste those tears on me, I'm home now. You don't have to worry anymore darlin'."

"Ya know, Mitch Haygood kept asking me on a date at least once a month while you were gone, he made the mistake of catching me out with your mother about six months ago. Let's just say, he never asked again," you both broke out into giggles, both knowing how Eugene's mother can be.

"I'm glad she handled it so I wouldn't have to go give him a talking to when I got back. Can't have anyone stealing my girl when I'm away," Eugene replied looking down at you. He simply held you there after he spoke, just looking at you. His hands were cupped around your cheeks and jaw, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones. Your hands grip at the uniform cinched at his waist. His tongue reached out to quickly swipe across his lips. You hadn't kissed those lips in four years, and if you didn't soon you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

"You better kiss me, Eugene Sledge, before I go calling Mitch Haygood."

With a crack of that beautiful smile and a small rumble in his chest, Eugene replied, "Don't have to tell me twice, sweetheart."

#eugene sledge #eugene sledge x reader #the pacific #new writer #eugene sledge one shot #eugene sledge imagine #eugene sledge imagines #eugene #sledge #sledgehammer imagines #eugene sledgehammer sledge

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babygirlkiki1016 · 4 years ago

Text

The Hunt Begins

When we got to Stanford Dean told me just to wait outside by the Impala. About twenty minutes later I hear voices coming from the building. I see Dean take a glance at me to see if I was still there. Sam was saying something but Dean just rolls his eyes.

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors." I heard Sam say as they cross the parking lot to the Impala.

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" Dean growls.

"No. Not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away." Dean looks away.

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Sam is silent.

"I can't do this alone."

"Yes you can." I joke, making both of the boys look at me.

"Yeah, well, as Y/n pointed out earlier which you weren't here for, I don't want to."

"Wait, that's Y/n? Y/D/N's kid?" Sam asked surprised. "You brought his kid here?! Do you know what he's going to do to us when he realizes she's missing!?"

"Uh I believe he already knows." I interrupt.

"Look, she wanted to come so I didn't stop her besides she's eighteen." Dean points out. Sam sighs and looks down, thinking, then up.

"What was he hunting?" Sam asked as Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment, it's an arsenal.

"Holy crap this is cool!" I exclaimed as Dean props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

"I know right? All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asks.

"I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Dean looks over at Sam.

"I'm twenty-six, dude."

"And then you went to Y/D/N for help?"

"That's about right, she offered to help cause her father wouldn't." Dean pulls some papers out of a folder. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy." Dean hands one of the papers to Sam, I look over his shoulder to see. "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA. The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined Centennial Highway Disappearance and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned Andrew Carey MISSING." Sam reads it and glances up.

"So maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean hands me a Jericho Herald article for each date he mentions. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." Dean takes the article's back from us and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder. "All men, all the Same five-mile stretch of road." Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He grabs a handheld tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He presses play, the recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

"Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger...and if you can...Y/D/N's kid." Dean presses stop.

"Wait...he mentioned me." I say silently.

"What does dad want with Y/n?" Sam asks.

"I don't know that's why I went to your dad. So whatever is going on, obviously your part of it."

"Well other than the creepy message involving me, you know there's EVP on that?" I said.

"Not bad, Y/n. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head. "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." He presses play again.

"I can never go home..." Was the voice that was heard, Dean presses stop.

"Never go home." Sam comments, trying to think what it could mean. Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it. "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Sam submits, Dean nods. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." Sam turns to go back to the apartment but turns back when Dean speaks.

"What's first thing Monday?"

"I have this...I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Dean smirks.

"So we got a deal or not?" Dean says nothing, Sam turns back around and heads back into the building.

"Your brother is certainly...not happy." I look over at Dean who shrugs.

"Eh he'll get over it." Dean smirks and gets back in the car, Dean maybe be smiling but I have a bad feeling about this.

Dean comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food. Sam is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes as I was sitting in the back with the window down. I don't know what he's looking for but it must be important.

"Hey!" Dean says with a smile on his face. Sam leans out and looks at him. "You want breakfast?"

"No, thanks."

"Y/n? I got you coffee, along with some biscuits." He hands me the food.

"Thanks...." I say and take the food from him. "So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asks. "You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." Dean puts the nozzle that he left running while he went inside back on the pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam swings his legs back inside the car and closes the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian." Dean gets into the driver seat and puts his soda and chips down.

"And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

"That's pretty smart, man I wish I thought of that. Then I wouldn't have had to get a job." I joke as Dean closes the door, Sam looks back at me then at Dean.

"Only a few days and your already a bad influence on her." Sam chuckles. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection." From what I could see there are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two." Sam holds up a tape for every band he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean takes the box labeled Metallica from Sam. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"And that's probably why he has them." I interrupt while sipping my coffee.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape in the player. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean drops the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and starts the engine.

"Wait." Sammy looks back at me as Dean drives off. "Why does she get coffee?"

"Well I asked her what she wanted and she told me."

"You didn't ask me...."

"Suck it up Sammy." Sam made a pouty face, I look down at my coffee then back at him. I reach forward and politely offer him some which Dean notices.

"Aw look at that she's willing to share."

"Shut up." Sam said with a blush on his face as he slowly took my cup.

Sam is talking on his cell phone. "Thank you." He says then closes his phone. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue."

"Well at least we know he's ok." I said, making Sam nod in agreement.

"That's something, I guess." Dean glances over at us, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers.

"Woah, I wonder what happened." I wondered as Sam leans forward for a closer look, Dean pulls over. We take a long look before Dean turns off the engine. Dean opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with his and John's faces. Visible ones include FBI and DEA. He picks one out and grins at Sam, who stares.

"Let's go." Dean gets out of the car and me and Sam follow pursuit. On the bridge, the lead Deputy, leans over the railing to yell down to two men in wetsuits who were poking around the river.

"You guys find anything?" He yells.

"No! Nothing!" The other man who was below us replied. The deputy turns back to the car in the middle of the bridge. Another Deputy, is at the driver's side looking around inside the car. The three of us walk into the crime scene, I felt out of place but the brothers acted like they belong there.

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean asks as the first Deputy looks up when he starts talking and straightens up to talk to him.

"And who are you?" Dean flashes his badge. "Federal marshals."

"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you? Especially the girl." Dean laughs. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." Dean goes over to the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam questioned, Jaffe, as it says on his name tag, nods.

"Town like this, everybody knows everybody." Dean circles the car, looking around.

"...And that is why I hate small towns." I state. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?"

"Uh N-No. Not so far as we can uh tell."

"So what's the theory? I'm thinking insane hitchhiker." Sam goes over to Dean as I keep the deputy busy.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean insults, Sam stomps on his foot.

"Thank you for your time." I say and the three of us head back to the Impala. Jaffe watches us go but I could the two talking.

"She's a pretty one ain't she?" Jaffe mentions, I ignored him, pervert I thought. Dean smacks Sam on the head, catching my attention.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam grumbled.

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Dean looks at Sam and moves in front of him, forcing Sam to stop walking.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Sam clears his throat and looks over Dean's shoulder. Dean turns to see a Sheriff and two FBI agents.

"Can I help you boys?" The sheriff asks.

"No, sir, we were just leaving." I smile at them, giving them some reassurance and walk past the three men. Dean and Sam head past the Sheriff, who turns to watch us go.

Later we decided to go talk to this young woman, the second deputy's daughter I believe. As we walk up the street the marquee on the Highland Movie Theater reads in big bold letters: EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING SUNDAY 8 PM BE SAFE OUT THERE. Below that a young woman is tacking up posters with Troy, the missing boy's face and the caption "Missing Troy Squire". The three of us approach.

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean says

"Well no shit sherlock, if course it's her." I joke, the boys turn towards me.

"Listen sweetheart you may be helping us, but that doesn't give you the right to curse."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say shit, fuck, crap. Sorry!" I giggle, making Sam smirk. Dean ignores me and walks up to the young woman.

"You must be Amy." Dean points out.

"Yeah." She says as she looks towards us. "Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and that's-" Dean was saying, trying to think on what I should be. "-my girlfriend Y/n." I give him a weird look and so does Sam, girlfriend? I thought. He couldn't have gone with sister or something?

"He never mentioned you to me." Amy walks away as the three of us tag along.

"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"We never really talk to Troy much, teenager's these days. Never wanna hang out with the adults." I chimes in as another young woman, comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asks, while eyeing the three of us.

"Yeah." Amy replies.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" I asked. "You probably know my nephew to be better then I do."

"Woah trying to get married already babe" Dean jokes as he puts an arm around my shoulder. "I thought the man asks the woman?"

"Well, 'darling' technically I am the one who is the man in this relationship." Sam and the two girls try not to giggle.

The five of us are sitting in a booth, Dean and Sam opposite Amy and Rachel while I'm sitting at the end of the table with a normal chair. The chair was turned away from the table as I was facing the four if them.

"So...Amy." I start. "What happened the night Troy disappeared?"

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange?" Sam asks, Amy shakes her head.

"No. Nothing I can remember."

"I like your necklace." I state, Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it.

"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents-" Amy laughs. "-with all that devil stuff.

"Do you know where he got it?"

"Um...no actually."

Sam laughs a little and looks down, then up.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Sam says.

"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries."

Dean jokes, takes his arm off the back of Sam's seat and leans forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." Amy and Rachel look at each other. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Rachel, the other girl says. Dean and Sam speak in chorus. "What do they talk about?"

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean looks at Sam, who watches Rachel attentively, nodding. "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

"So let me guess you believe in this so called legend?" I ask.

"It's a possibility, you never know." Sam and Dean look at each other.

Considering that Rachel mentioned this legend, we made a trip to the library. Dean was in the computer with a web browser open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. Dean clicks go; the screen tells him there are "(0) Result". Dean replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" with the same response.

"Your not gonna find anything in the internet. You gotta go old school." I point out.

Sam sighs, who is sitting next to him, watching.

"Let me try." He offered, Dean smacks Sam's hand.

"I got it." Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. "Dude!" Dean hits Sam in the shoulder. "You're such a control freak."

"You two are definitely brothers." I giggle, the boys just shake there heads. I push both of them out of the way "If you want to find a spirit, you gotta go dark. Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

"Yeah." Dean agrees.

"Well, it's not murder." I replace "Murder" with "Suicide" and find an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". Both if the boys seemed surprised. I open the article, dated April 25, 1981, I read what the article had to say. "A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night. Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several minutes. I continued to skim the article. " Here this is what the husband said, What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it. Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."

"So she committed suicide." Sam says. "Good job Y/n."

"Quiet there's more. At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager. Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew, said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. She just doted on those children."

Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Hm. The bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asks.

The three of us walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean states.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks.

"If your dad was here then he would've stopped the spirit right?" I wondered.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?"

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while." Sam stops and looks at Dean.

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday-" Dean turns around.

"Monday. Right. The interview."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some Lawyer? Marry your girl?"

"Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Sam steps closer, I could tell a fight was about to break out.

"No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

Dean turns around and keeps walking, Sam follows.

"Guys c'mon we got more important things to do." I state.

"Stay out of this Y/n!" Both of them say at the same time.

"Who am I really Dean?" Sam says.

"You're one of us." Sam hurries to get in front of Dean.

"No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to-"

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. Instantly I push Dean back, he begins to protest.

"Y/n-"

"No enough out of both of you. Focus, look if San wants out if this life then so be it. You can't change that, I may not know much about what you guys do for a living but I know damn well I wouldn't want to be hunting monsters all the time."

"What do you mean don't know much about what we do?" Sam questioned, clearly aggravated. "You brought her into this!"

"She decided this not me! I gave her the offer to walk away!"

"That wasn't her decision to make! If Y/D/N kept her out if this then you shouldn't have brought her with you!"

"She's eighteen! She can do whatever the hell she wants!"

"No Dean she's not eighteen! She's seventeen! She doesn't turn eighteen till (your birthday)." Dean looks at me, clearly surprised that I lied. However I wasn't paying attention, the spirit of Constance was standing at the edge of the bridge.

"Uh guys." The boys forget there argument and stand infront of me, like I'm something to be protected. Consance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. We run to the railing and look over.

"Where'd she go?" I asked.

"I don't know." Sam said, then behind us, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on, catching our attention.

"What the-who the fuck is driving your car!?" Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them.

"Run!" I yell. The car is moving faster than we are, when it gets too close, the boys dive over the railing but it was to late for me.

The New Hunter Masterlist

#dean supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #dean x y/n #dean x reader #sam x y/n #sam x you #sam x reader

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