#roger dean scans

[1000sunnygo]

Doflamingo's Past: The initial concept

Some old information but I don't see around a lot, scan credits to Redon. These are from One Piece magazine vol. 3.

Zooming in,

- Doflamingo at 5 enjoys his life as Tenryubito.

- His father (Donquixote Dressking) who looks tough and serious ("righteous thinker", "friends with Cobra") refuses antipathy and as a result was transferred to a non-WG member country along with his wife and his only son.

- Doflamingo's mother can't survive the foul living condition and dies.

- Doflamingo wanting to become Tenryubito takes his father's head back to Mariejeoise at the age of 10.

- Doflamingo is declined by Tenryubito who try to kill him.

- Doflamingo flees and survives. He develops a goal to destroy the world.

- Around 15, he forms a crime syndicate "Downs" (ダウンズ) and is revered as the charismatic boss.

- His subordinates were Pica, Trebol, Diamante and Corazon, there's also Vergo (Vergo's other name in the bracket is written as "Sir Dean").

- Corazon here isn't Doflamingo's brother.

- Around when Doflamingo was 17, Roger was executed and he was inspired by the man to pursue piracy, his goal changed to "becoming the pirate king." He continues operating underworld as Joker.

Nothing much here, I like the observation that Gatz announcing the fight between Doflamingo and Luffy makes it seem like an extension of Colosseum battle. That's a neat way to tie it up.

Some additional info (canon version) from OP vivre card translated by Artur:

I wish I could read the JP text myself but it seems Viola's case was something like a Stockholm syndrome after all.

Personal highlight would be Rosinante eating his DF before meeting Sengoku (which means Sengoku didn't immediately find him. Rosi probably survived all by himself for quite some time), and Doflamingo developing the habit to smile at everything from a "certain point onwards." Imagine Rosinante returning to his brother who now smiles all the time. That is terrifying, I feel like it adds so much to Rosi's face having the artificial smile on him.

[gumballavocadoharry]

One puff is all it takes:

*Mentions of cigarettes, smoking, spankings and discipline. Things were different in the 50's....don't smoke (period.) or drink (irresponsibly).*

It was a rare perilous item to be seen in the house. Almost never seen. Bunny always had one in her fingers, Jack used to use it ceaseless in his early twenties, Alice's mother used it a lot...as did her father. But despite the usual sightings of the skinny little wrapped paper, the warnings and terrors of it never set itself aside. For sure, the dangers of it were far more bigger than a cheap rolled up piece of ash that was available at any booth or store possible.

But there it was.....captured by the eyes of a curious little boy. Roger, just couldn't rip his eyes from the micro white cylinder shaped paper with the harsh smell of cigarette smoke. Now, Roger had been duly warned of the nasty addictive habit that came with smoking. James Dean made it look cool, but it was anything but that. Roger reasoned that his father, Jack, the man he looked up to, smoked a lot in his heyday. Roger would hear stories of his father with his friends, hanging out at clubs, drag racing, flirting around with....woman and of course, smoking.

Jack had this rebel with a cause attitude, living life carefree in the streets of New York City, doing whatever he wanted, tasting the freedom of adulthood with a teenage mentality. Of course, Jack wasn't 'as cool' anymore; settling down to a tranquil night of family games instead of staying out late into the dawn, living for the day. But this was Roger's chance.....a chance for him to stand boldly against the peers of his school. To be the first third grader to smoke.

"Oh shoot, Bunny must've left her cigarette over here." Alice swooped the nasty bud and tossed it outside on the lawn, stomping it out. She cleansed the house of vague smokey smell and peppered fragrance to it. But Roger's alluring fascination of the item still wasn't mellowed.

The thoughts followed him; outside watching Bunny smoke while listening to her husband and watching their children play, Dean, taking a cool break from his yard work and settling down into his favorite lawn chair to smoke a cigar, and then there was Nancy's father who smoked a pipe after a hard day's work. The good people of the city, smoking their cigarettes while washing their cars, shopping, even going on dates. Movies where the man lights his lady's cigarette for her. It bombarded Roger with the notion.

Finally, Roger had enough. He had told his friend, Bryon about his plan, and requested a couple cigarettes from his father's pack. "Only two Roger. If my dad notices, I'll be in big trouble!" Roger agreed and took the buds before heading back home. He kept them tucked under his shirt until he made it to his bedroom.

The taste of metal ran through Roger's mouth. A warm patch on the back of his neck heated behind his ear. His palms pressed firmly on the sides of the table while his back was turned and his eyes scanning the bed as if the aphonic object could say anything. Only the gurgling of Roger's gut was speaking in the room.

With shaky hands, Roger carefully peeled back the flap of his open jacket and just looked at the two small tall white sticks. The muffled smell of tobacco pinging his nose from time to time. Everything was set. Roger had internally planned to smoke the first one after hours, once the households of the neighborhood died down and Roger could take a few quick puffs before putting out the bud and coming back inside the house like nothing happened.

"They'll just think it's Bunny's." Roger reasoned aloud. A knock on the door shook Roger from his unsteady conscience. "Hey Rog, dinner time!" Susan's voice echoed through the door. "Coming!" Roger called, throwing his jacket into his closet and coming downstairs for the home cooked meal of chicken and veggies. Roger kept a keen eye on his dinner, making occasional conversation as not to uproot a suspicion of cloaking something.

After dinner, Roger waited anxiously. Every scribble of a sound sent a jitter through him. Susan's footsteps to her bedroom, the clinking of the dinner dishes being washed by Alice and finally the little snicker of Jack probably counting bills in his bedroom. Roger's heart became the only ricochet of echoes throughout the bedroom. The sounds of the house settling would snatch him off guard, swiping his head to the door as to who was coming in.

"Susan, Roger, time for bed guys. I'll be in there to tuck you both in soon." Jack's voice boomed through the hall. Roger quickly holsted himself into his pajamas and into bed before Jack could arrive. "Is my little puppy all cuddled in his bed?" Roger, gave a smile, scuffling himself not to dart his eyes towards the half peeked closet. As Jack bent down to smooch a kiss on Roger's forehead, the boy could see through the little gap of Jack's arm and torso of the closet with his jacket tucked inside.

It was mocking him; badgering him with this spoiled innocence of receiving his usual goodnight kisses that shined perspective on a anything but innocent act that Roger had set to perform. With a quick boop on the nose, Jack whisked himself away with wishes of sweet dreams and an "I love you." Once the door was closed, the hallway light shadow had disappeared, Roger made his move. Alice and Jack had settled into bed and so had Susan.

Roger grabbed the flabby jacket and tiptoed quietly downstairs after shoving pillows and blankets under his covers; carefully sculpting the figure to look like his own. He grabbed a lighter from the drawer and with sleath, he managed to unlock the front door and skate out to the garage, grabbing his bike and wheeling off around the corner.

A thick rush of heat ran through Roger the more he peddled away from the house. His look back of the perfect suburban home with perfectly trimmed grass, flowered bushes and the perfect little round satellite sitting neatly on the roof. He swallowed his gut and drove his bike as fast as he could. The night was quiet, streets were empty....Roger was alone. Isolated. He had an abundance of privacy because everyone was home sleeping. Even the sounds of late night crickets had settled down.

The little light on his bike was his only map through the dark. Roger finally decided on the back of a empty old aparement building in the city. He made sure no one was around, no one was looking. Roger then carefully pulled the cigarette from his pocket and grabbed the lighter he snagged and lit the little stick after shoving it into his mouth. He took a deep breath before inhaling the bitter substance. With one puff, Roger started gagging, rasping for air that he couldn't find. He dropped the cigarette and stomped on it, putting it out immediately.

Roger tamed his loud gags before getting on his bike and riding back to his house. He put the bike back in the garage before coming back into the house, shoving the jacket back into his closet and going to bed....all without one wake up from anyone.

The next morning, Roger woke up with the nasty tobacco smell in his mouth. He rushed to the bathroom and brushed his teeth a total of four times to rinse the smell from his mouth. His jacket didn't have any odor besides the smell of two in the morning. Sweat stuck to his body like dew. It dripped from his forehead, unaware that his night rests was nothing mere than tossing and turning in sheets full of guilt.

Roger knew the effects of smoking and how medically and morally wrong it was- even for the first thrill.

Roger's mouth grew dry and metallically. He wanted to crawl in his skin upon hearing the open door of Susan's bedroom and the smell of steamy vegetables cooking into a egg coated omelet. His knuckles turned porcelain, being squeezed tightly into fists that were unnoticed util Roger saw that his hands felt tight and sticky.

He took careful steps down the stairs, almost in a memory of the night at its peak when Roger to contort his toes to match the silent sounds of the living room. At breakfast, Roger facaded his usual gregarious makeup, chatting away about his latest schemes and Susan piping in about his adoration for Delilah Crane; a honey blonde girl with the roundest brown eyes and sweetest uproot smile he'd ever seen. Roger learned the hone out his alibis if he were to ever get away with something that would surely spark his parents attention to their natural benevolent fret.

Once the breakfast dishes were cleared, Roger grabbed his backpack and was headed for the door before being stopped by Alice. "Roger, you forgot your lunch...and I don't have anywhere to be so I can drive you kids to school today." Alice seemed more excited about it than the children. Maybe it was because this would be a missed opportunity to hear the walk-to-school type gossip.

"Bye kiddos, see you at home." Jack took his time kissing foreheads in a line that started with Alice and ended with Roger: Oldest to youngest it seemed. Roger watched from the car window of Alice's black chevy, Jack taking off, honking, signaling his departure until the evening. The car ride was filled with music from the radio and Alice's murmured humming along to it. Roger stared out blankly at the familiar streets of his nocturnal adventure, remembering the grayish colored post office and the neighboring tanish house that sat behind it with the little chimes of the wind chimes that were hanging from the porch.

Alice eased the car into a parking spot, whipping her head around to her children. "Okay sweethearts, I'll see you both after school. I want you both to have a nice day." She kissed their chubby cheeks before sending them on their way with their bags and lunch in their hands. Susan broke off from her brother, marching towards her more senior classes and girl group, trussing herself into a conversation.

Roger walked through the mellow lit hallway and made it halfway to his locker before a voice slapped him from behind. "Roger!" Bryon ran up to Roger with excitement bursting in his eyes. "Did you do it?" Roger pinched his eyebrows more annoyed than confused, "Do what?"

"You know....the cigarettes I gave you?" Roger's minds flashed back to the night. "Yeah," He pulled Bryon aside, not wanting anyone to hear his dirty little secret. "I snuck out at night and I lit one and inhaled and puffed before putting it out." Bryon's eyes shot from out of his head. "Really?" Roger looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. No one cared; thrusts of kids squeezed past them to their respective classes. "Yeah...but don't say anything. This could play out two ways and I don't wanna get excited if it goes sour. That happens a lot." Roger almost sensed shame in his voice from sputtering out those last words.

The school day went by quickly like the moon shifting shape to the sun. Roger's nerves were on fire the whole day, wondering if Bryon could shut his lips like he promised. Susan's class let out early so her walk home from school was a solid twenty minutes before Roger's. Skipping down the hill, he noticed Bryon standing near a blue car, being shadowed by a man. It was only when coming closer did Roger recognize that to be Bryon's father, Mr. Weyer.

"Bryon, two cigarettes from my box are missing- I counted exactly twenty five in there- now what's going on?" Bryon gulped, staring only at his feet. "You didn't smoke em did you?"

"Of course not, no!" Roger couldn't deny the truth in his friends voice. And neither could his father. Roger had made a dash down the road, taking the long way home as to recollect himself. He stopped by 'The Bargain Bin', a cheap discount store for candy, postcards, nick-nacks..and so fourth.

Roger bout a five cents worth of bubble gum, munching away, blowing bubbles until he was home. Upon arrival, Roger found it strange of seeing both his parents cars in the driveway. Is it an early day for everyone? He thought. His mind was frazzled trying piece together a puzzle to what was going on. "A party for me?" He thought aloud, "But no balloons, no streamers.." Roger's stomach sunk when a worst case scenario sliced into his brain. Suddenly his fingers twitched, his heart raced and his mouth became tangy with the taste of metal. Like the taste of blood mixed with spit after biting into your own cheeks.

Roger took a deep breath and opened the door bracing himself for the worst. But it was much worse than he could have ever described it in that moment.

Alice and Jack were sitting on the couch....Roger's jacket in Alice's hand and the cigarette in Jack's.

A sudden stab of fear shot through him like a jumpscare upon seeing their furious faces. "I can't even begin to say how disappointed I am!" Jack managed to voice with gritted teeth. "Smoking! You smoked a cigarette after everything we've taught you!"

"How did you-" "Bryon, Bryon Weyer's father told us after Bryon told him what happened. Apparently, he gave you two from his father's and you smoked one of them...we have the other one here." Alice chimed in.

"And don't deny it, the lighter from the house is in your pocket." Jack hissed. He bit his fist and stood up, pacing the room with hefty breaths that gave slight whistles every now and then. "Why? Just why Roger?" Alice concerned with anticipation. Roger shrugged, "I...I saw everyone doing it: Bunny, Grandma and Grandpa, Bryon's dad, Bryon's older brother...and then....Dad used to when he was younger," Jack whipped his head around, "I was in my twenties and it was stupid choice! I regret that everyday Roger because....well first of all, it made my breath stink, my clothes stink and I kept getting cavities,

"Oh, and not to mention that one of my friends who smoked learned that lesson first head on his deathbed from a five year battle with lung cancer!" Roger bowed his head, feeling the pangs of making such a pointless excuse. Alice put her fingers to her head, "Roger....are you okay? Are you sick and is anything hurting?" Even through the mess of this, Alice still showed her true empathy through her anger.

Roger gave a swift shake of his head. "Good. Now march yourself upstairs to your bedroom right now before I get the switch!" Jack's words shook Roger enough for his scamper up the stairs and close his bedroom door.

Jack paced the room. "Alice, I know he's only eight, but he has to learn that this is completely unacceptable! You know he deserves a firm hand this time." Alice squeezed her lips with her hands, "Yes, yes he does Jack." She sighed, allowing a shaky gasp to penetrate into her lungs.

"I-I'm beside myself! When did he smoke it? How could we not notice?" Jack finally sat down, releasing a deep sigh that was imprisoned inside him. "He's a good boy deep down, I know he is....but these bad influences are everywhere."

"What do you think his punishment should be?" "One month, no TV, no bike, no candy, no leaving the house without supervision, only walking to school and back with one of us, no friends over, no talking to friends on the phone, no dessert, no comics, extra chores and a first hand lecture on the dangers of smoking."

Alice swallowed hard, "Are you sure that's not too harsh?" "He snuck out of the house and smoked Alice. Those are two big offenses! And....I think he needs the switch this time too. This is too serious to just turn away from." Alice nodded, knowing Jack was not being impartial.

"I also think that Bryon's connection with Roger should be cut off for awhile. He's clearly not a good influence if he gave Roger the cigarette."

"You're right. Let's go talk to him."

Roger sat at his desk, tapping his foot- a nervous habit he inherited from his mother- and stared blankly at the grainy oak desk. He knew he was really in trouble now and all Roger could think about was punching Bryon in the face for selling him out. A knock on the door shook Roger from his thoughts. In followed Jack and Alice. "Roger, me and your mother were talking and we decided that this act cannot go unpunished. So as of today, you are grounded for a month. So that means, no friends at the house of phone calls to them, no TV, no dessert or candy, no comics, no bike and no leaving the house without us and that includes going to school. And you'll hear the first hand lectures of the dangers of smoking."

"What! All I barely smoked it! It was one puff and it was horrible!"

"Well, Roger..maybe next time you won't try something like that again. And another part of your punishment I forgot to mention is extra chores and......a walloping."

Roger hung his head, tears fuzzing his vision. "I don't like this anymore than you....but it's necessary." Alice left the room, leaving just Jack and Roger.

Later on that night, Roger sat alone in his room, studying his window. The moon floated like a cloudy balloon and impaled itself into the wires from the backyard. A knock at the door broke Roger's somber mood for a minute. Jack had entered, with a stack of Roger's comics. "I figured if you're going to be in this house for the month, then...I'll lighten up with the comics. But that's all." His voice had a sternness to it in a modest way. One that wasn't overbearing in the sense of disrelish for his small compensation.

"Wow, thanks Dad." Roger set aside his comics. Jack neighbored Roger on his bed. "Why?" Roger lifted his eyebrows and gaze to meet Jack's. "Why Roger? Why do something so reckless?" He shrugged. "I don't know," and true....after all this, he really didn't anymore.

"You have a nice healthy pair of lungs. You have soft and smooth skin, white and pristine teeth, a clear speaking voice....I just don't wanna see you end up like some of these smokers Rog. They have bad teeth, they look seventy when they're really forty and above all, they're not healthy and they don't live long at all. That's not something for anyone and especially a boy your age. Do you understand?"

Roger nodded. Jack held his arms out for Roger to collapse in them. "I just don't-" Jack gave a quick kiss to Roger's temple, "wanna see you get sick okay? I love you very much and...I know I came on strong, but it's only because I wanna protect you. I didn't have anyone to tell me cigarettes were bad, and I got sick a lot. My father smoked a lot because he didn't know cigarettes were bad. But I'm telling you because of all this. Now," Jack moved Roger to face him, "I don't ever wanna see this again okay?"

Roger nodded. "Okay?"

"Okay." Roger said, realizing Jack needed verbal reassurance.

Roger became satisfied with knowing that some risks are not worth the cost.

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Black Velvet - (John Winchester)

Warning: Mention of sexual activity

Summary: Story inspired by the song - Black Velvet by Alannah Myles. Years after he had up and left you, you run into your old flame, John Winchester.

A/N: Y/N - your name

Dividers created by @firefly-graphics​  

John and the boys had just successfully taken care of a demon that preyed only on women; ones that enjoyed partying a bit too much and dressed extremely provocatively.

Luckily for the town's woman folk, they managed to track its vessel down before he claimed another victim. So, here they were grabbing a few drinks at the local bar in celebration of a successful hunt.

"That was one tough son of a bitch..." Dean remarks throwing himself down into the chair with a heavy grunt.

"Look who's talking..." Sam grumbles.

"You weren't the one used us bait."

"You got the whole long hair thing going on, makes ya look more like a girl from behind" Dean points out with a wave of his hand.

"That with the girl clothes made ya really convincing from a distance."

"I still can't believe you made me wear girl clothes" Sam scowls at him.

"Be glad you wore jeans instead of a skirt..." Dean flashes him a grin.

"You'd have had to shave ya legs then."

Sam doesn't respond to his remark; choosing to grumble into the glass while taking a sip of his drink instead.

"Dean, stop teasing your brother..." John reprimands him.

"Sorry, Sir" Dean responds straightening up in his seat as Sam triumphally smirks.

Scanning the room, Dean sips at his drink, silently cringing at the terrible singing of some drunk up on the stage.

"Why did we decide to go to a bar that has very bad karaoke night?"

"It's the only bar in town..." Sam shrugs in response.

"At least he's almost finished with the song."

"Thank goodness..." Dean groans out in relief.

A few minutes after the drunk leaves the stage, a very attractive looking woman takes the stage then; dressed in a black mini skirt, paired with a corset styled top, and black leather jacket.

"Why, hello there..." Dean utters out in interest.

"She's out of your league dude..." Sam remarks.

"Whaddya mean?" Dean frowns at him, pulling at the open flaps of his jacket.

"I'm an extremely attractive guy, the ladies love me."

"Keep telling yourself that and it might just come true" Sam chuckles.

"Let's hope she can sing though."

"Yeah, that would be really embarrassing" Dean nods in agreement.

"A woman so fine looking, and she ends up making a fool of herself in public would be tragic."

As the boys continued on with their little discussion neither of them had yet to notice how quiet their father had become as he stared narrow eyed at the stage as the topic of their interest begins to sing.

*

Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell

Jimmie Rogers on the Victrola up high

Mama's dancin' with a baby on her shoulder

The sun is settin' like molasses in the sky

The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for

Black velvet and that little boy's smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees

Black velvet if you please...

"Looks like hottie can really sing and dance quite well..." Dean groans out in comment as she swings her hips to the music.

*

Up in Memphis, the music's like a heatwave

White lighting, bound to drive you wild

Mama's baby 's in the heart of every schoolgirl

"Love Me Tender" leaves them 'em cryin' in the aisle

They way he moves, it was a sin, so sweet and true

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for

Black velvet and that little boy's smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees

Black velvet if you please...

"Bro, I think she's looking at me..." Dean excitedly slaps Sam against the arm when the woman seductively smiles in their direction.

"I highly doubt that..." Sam drawls out in response.

*

Every word of every song that he sang was for you

In a flash, he was gone, it happened so soon

What could you do?

Black velvet and that little boy's smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees

Black velvet if you please...

With furrowed brows, Sam studies the woman for a bit; noticing something a bit strange, he turns to look at his father.

John sat dead silent; eyes narrowed as he gazed back at the woman.

"I think she's looking at Dad, not you..." Sam remarks a bit confused at the interaction between the two.

"No, she's not..." Dean scoffs.

"She's clearly checking me out."

*

Black velvet and that little boy's smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees

Black velvet if you please

If you please

If you please

If you please...

The song ends and the woman steps off the stage.

"No, she's definitely looking at Dad..." Sam shakes his head.

"Dad, you know her?"

John doesn't respond to his question, getting up from his seat instead.

"I'm gonna get some fresh air."

"Wondered if you were going to follow me out or not" you remark with a smirk at seeing John walking toward you.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" John rasps out, his gaze dark as he stared down at you.

"Ten years..." you rasp out in response.

"What you doing here?" John asks as the two of you step further into the dark alley alongside the bar.

"Came to do a job, but you guys beat me to it."

"Alone?" John frowns in displeasure.

"I'm a very capable woman and hunter" you arch a brow in rebuttal.

"You should know that from the days we used to hunt together."

"From what I remember; I was always saving your butt" John comments, stepping closer to you.

"Then we both remember things way differently..." you drawl out, slowly backing away from him; gaze never wavering as he slowly stalked you.

"That so...?" John responds, lips slightly twitching in amusement.

"You were always jumping in front of me during an attack" you nod frowning.

"Even though I never needed your help."

Flashing a dimpled smirk, John reaches up to cup your cheek.

"You needed my help for other things though, didn't you?"

"John..." you softly whimpered, eyes fluttering close when your back came up against the alley wall.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" John slurs, pushing himself flushed up against you.

"Need my help again...?"

The inner turmoil inside you finally snaps as you gave in to your desires, lifting a leg to wrap around his waist.

If there was one thing you could never resist; it was the sexual charm of John Winchester.

"Morning..." a voice raspily slurs against your neck, as strong arms pull you closer.

"Morning..." you groan out, smiling as you turn to face John in the bed.

"Who woulda thought we'd run into each other again after all this time...?" John stares down at you longingly, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Yeah, who woulda..." you wrinkle your nose at him in response as he tips down to kiss you.

"I missed you..."

"I definitely know something missed me, yeah..." you joke when feeling his morning erection poking at your stomach.

"Oh, he missed you a lot..." John grunts, thrusting himself against you.

"Maybe you should show me, how much he missed me..." you whisper, softly nipping at his neck.

"With pleasure..." John growls out, rolling over on top of you as you giggled in response.

"Stop sulking" Sam scolds Dean as they sat in the diner, eating breakfast.

"Just don't understand where she ran off to..." Dean whines in disappointment.

"She just up and disappeared out of nowhere."

"It's for the best" Sam smugly remarks.

"She was way out of your league anyway."

"Whatever, man" Dean scowls.

"You hear anything from Dad?"

"Just the text he sent last night; that he would meet us here this morning" Sam shrugs in reply.

"Where you think he ran off to?"

"Maybe he went off with your dream woman..." Sam teasingly smirks.

"Dad's so not her type!" Dean scoffs in protest.

"You sure? Cause, it seemed to me as if they knew each other."

The two of them continued on bantering for a few minutes, until a car pulled up in the driveway of the diner.

"What the...?" Dean remarks, seeing John get out from behind the wheel of the strange car.

Mere seconds later, the woman from the night before gets out of the passenger side.

"Told you..." Sam smirks.

John and you entered into the diner, heading directly to the booth that had two men seated in it.

"Boys, this is Y/N" John introduces you to them.

"Y/N, these are my boys; Sam and Dean."

"Please to meet you" you smile at them in greeting.

The one named; Sam politely smiles at you, while Dean stares opened mouthed.

Dean snaps out of his stupider then.

"You two know each other? How?"

"We're old friends" you reply with a chuckle.

"Your dad and I were hunting partners for a bit about ten years ago."

"So, you two...?" Dean stares shocked while waving a finger between John and you.

"That's none of your business, boy" John grunts out frowning.

"Relax, Big fella..." you chuckle, slapping a palm against John's chest.

After the awkward introduction, John, the boys, and you sat chatting while having breakfast. It was an enjoyable time as you guys exchanged stories of hunts, and how grumpy John would get at times.

But it wasn't long thereafter, when breakfast ended, and it was time to part ways.

"Come with us..." John suggests as you stood alongside your car.

"I can't" you whisper out softly.

"Why not?" John frowns at your reply.

"I'm retired, John... the hunter's life is no longer for me. I only took this one as a favour to an old friend."

"Retired?" John arches a brow.

"For ten years now" you nod.

"This job is too much of a risk for me to be taking now."

"If you're worried about the risk of being on the road 24/7, you don't have to" John remarks.

"We have a safe place, a bunker... it's isolated, and safe from any and all elements. You were always the better researcher between the two of us, you could stay there to help with that."

"It's not just me... I'm not alone."

"What you mean, you're not alone?" John frowns at your remark.

Realizing you had no other option but to tell John the truth, you exhale heavily in defeat.

"I have a ten-year-old daughter...at least she will be in a few months."

"Daughter...?" John stares at you open mouth.

"Ten years old?"

You silently nod, taking a picture of her out and handing it to John.

"Her name's; Lily..."

"She's...?" John murmurs out, staring at the picture of the little girl.

"She has your eyes and dimples..." you nod feeling a bit emotional, then suddenly chuckle out.

"Also has that same grumpy scowl as you."

"Why didn't you let me know?" John stares at you accusingly.

You scoff at his remark with a frown.

"You're the one that up and disappeared one day" you reminded him.

"The minute I told you, that I loved you; you ran."

John's head drops in shame at your words then.

"I was scared..." he utters out in admittance.

"Scared...?" you frown in confusion.

"Scared..." John nods, looking up into your eyes then.

"Scared of loving someone, and possibly losing them again."

You take a step closer to him, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"I thought it was for the best if I kept it to myself, that it would keep you safe then."

You couldn't help the chuckle that slipped your lips then.

"I was a hunter before we met, my life would continue to be in danger, even if we weren't together."

"I know now it was a dumb idea..." John sighs out.

"Quite dumb..." you nod chuckling.

John flashes a dimpled smirk at your remark, clearing his throat then.

"Where is she now?"

"Lily?" you reply, and John nods.

"She's at my sister's. Like I said, I'm retired, I stopped hunting because of her. This was just a favour, so I asked my sister to watch her for me."

"I'd like to meet her..." John requests quite eagerly.

"Does she even know about me?"

"I've told her about you, yes. She knows who her daddy is. Likes to look at that picture of you and I that we took back then."

"She does?" John cringes at the thought of what his daughter must think of him.

"Has she asked where I am?"

You exhale heavily then at the memories of those conversations.

"Almost every day... especially, why you never come to see her."

"What did you tell her?" John's voice comes out brokenly.

"That her daddy is extremely busy chasing bad guys, so she and everyone else could remain safe."

Tears threatening to escape from his eyes, John presses his forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry... I never should have left."

"It's ok..." you murmur as tears began to burn your own eyes.

"You'll come with us?" John stares pleadingly at you.

"Both of you?"

Biting into your lower lip, you silently nod in agreement.

John smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"I love you..."

You couldn't suppress the whimper that slipped your lips then.

"I love you too..."

With a dimpled smirk, John grabs hold of your car keys.

"C'mon, let's go pick up our little girl, and then head on home..."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you eye him closely.

"You sure, you ain't gonna run out on us again?"

John chuckles, pulling you back into his arms.

"I promise, Sweetheart..." he presses a kiss into your hair.

"You better..." you warn him, causing him to chuckle louder.

"Get in the car..." he swats your bottom as you head for the passenger door, and you shoot him a glare over your shoulder.

"Let's go get our girl..." John smirks at you, starting up the car.

"Let's go get our girl..." you smirk in agreement.

*

Black velvet and that little boy's smile

Black velvet with slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees

Black velvet if you please

If you please

If you please

If you please...

[pandoramsbox]

Sci-Fi Saturday: Fleischer Studios' Superman

Week 22:

Film(s): Superman (Dir. Dave Fleischer, et. al., 1941-1942, USA)

Viewing Format: Blu Ray

Date Watched: 2021-11-05 and 2021-11-12

Rationale for Inclusion:

Every child who has grown up in the United States since 1938 remembers the first version of Superman that they encountered. For my parents' generation, it was typically the television series starring George Reeves, Adventures of Superman, which ran between 1950 and 1958, but much longer in reruns. For me, and a lot of my generation, the first time involved one of the films produced between 1978 and 1987 featuring Christopher Reeves as the superhero, even if it was rapidly followed by the 1993-1997 television series Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman starring Teri Hatcher and Dean Cain and/or the 1996-2000 Saturday morning cartoon Superman: The Animated Series from the same creative team that made Batman: The Animated Series.

Unlike his fellow pulp comic heroes Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon, Superman's pop culture relevance never lapsed over the decades. Buck and Flash may have remained fixtures on the funny pages between their popular serials and feature film revivals in the late 1970s and early 1980s, but for the most part they are associated with their original popularity in the 1930s and a retro aesthetic. Superman has been perpetually contemporary since 1938, changing and evolving to meet present day aesthetics and technologies, in part because his exploits have been continuously running in multiple mediums, beginning with The Adventures of Superman radio show in 1940. 

The first time Superman lept from the comic pages to a moving image medium, however, was 1941 with the first of 17 animated shorts starring the Man of Steel by  Fleischer Studios, and later Famous Studios, and released through Paramount Pictures. These shorts fell into the public domain and were a fixture on the early years of the Disney Channel, from which my mother recorded them onto VHS tapes that I grew up watching. 

As is the case with most public domain works, the shorts are widely available, in varying degrees of quality and with or without watermarks; you can find multiple copies on Archive.org. The original camera negatives ended up in the ownership of Superman's current copyright holder, Warner Bros, who released 4K scans of them on Blu Ray in 2023. That probably is the ideal home video version to watch, but it didn't exist yet when it was time in our survey to view the shorts, so we went with the standard definition copies on the 2011 Blu-Ray set The Superman Motion Picture Anthology. That set only includes the first 9 shorts, produced by Fleischer Studios, not the later 8 produced by Famous Studios. 

As with the Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon serials, we did not watch all of the shorts, only a representative selection: Superman (The Mad Scientist, Dir. Dave Fleischer, 1941, USA), The Mechanical Monsters (Dir. Dave Fleischer, 1941, USA), Billion Dollar Limited (Dir. Dave Fleischer, 1942, USA), and The Arctic Giant (Dir. Dave Fleischer, 1942, USA).

Reactions: 

The quality of the animation, pacing, and Sammy Timberg score make these shorts a joy to watch over 80 years after their original debut. Fleischer Studios made the most of their signature use of rotoscope and the Technicolor color process, keeping the color palette vibrant yet realistic. Nostalgia bias factors into my opinions, of course, but so does rewatching them after going through film school.

Fans of Superman who watch the Fleischer shorts for the first time may be surprised to discover that the character's origin story is different from the one they know. The prologue to The Mad Scientist explains Superman's origins: he is still the seemingly last survivor of planet Krypton, but like all Kryptonians was born with his wondrous powers. Later iterations on his origin would explain that Kryptonians were basically the same as Earth humans, but the rays of Earth's yellow sun made the child of a planet that had a red sun (like Krypton) gain superpowers. (Apologies to any deeply devoted Superman fans if I am misrepresenting or over simplifying this lore.)

While casual fans may not be aware of Superman's conversion to solar power, most will tell you that the escape pod with baby Superman, or Kal-El, was discovered in Smallville, Kansas by a couple driving by in a car, Jonathan and Martha Kent, who adopt him and raise him as their son. In the character history given in The Mad Scientist, however, baby Superman grew up in an orphanage, despite the Kents having been previously introduced in the comics in 1939. I expect the Kents were written out by the Fleischers for the sake of brevity, and fortunately that creative choice did not become a standard part of Superman's canon.

A creative choice by Fleischer Studios that did become a major part of character canon though was Superman's ability to fly. Prior to The Mad Scientist, Superman could only "leap tall buildings in a single bound," as the expository intro originating with the shorts goes. The Fleischers thought that in animation this leaping looked funny--an example can be seen of Superman leaping from rooftop to rooftop in The Arctic Giant--and suggested that he fly instead. This upgrade in movement also suited the concise nature of the shorts, and led to them opening with a variant on the exclamation from the radio series: "Up in the sky, look! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!"

The radio show and shorts not only shared key phrases, they also shared actors. Bud Collyer and Joan Alexander voiced Clark Kent/Superman and Lois Lane, respectively, on The Adventures of Superman radio show and reprised their roles for the animated shorts. As someone who has appreciated Kevin Conroy voicing Bruce Wayne/Batman and Mark Hamill voicing the Joker across multiple television series, movies and video games, I was delighted to discover that this consistency across mediums had an earlier precedent.

One precedent that neither the shorts nor the radio series originated was Superman fighting for, "Truth, justice, and the American way." Much like "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance, "the American way" was added in the 1950s amid the Red Scare and start of the Cold War. Granted, like other aspects of Superman, his mission statement has varied over the decades; it's currently, "Truth, Justice and a Better Tomorrow."

Like her love interest, Lois Lane has also changed to meet the needs of whatever was appropriate for a contemporary working woman to be like. Regardless of the decade, she frequently is thrust into the role of damsel in distress, either due to being too gung ho to capture a story or unfortunate coincidence. While that is the case in most of the shorts, it was refreshing to see her pick up a machine gun in Billion Dollar Limited and actively fight the train hijackers. A lot of pulp and science fiction media would never have a woman use, or be given, a gun, even if the protagonists are actively fighting a monster. (I'm looking at you specifically The Creature from the Black Lagoon.) So kudos to the Fleischers for going there, even if it was for the sake of narrative convenience more than a purposeful statement of female capabilities.

Looking at the Fleisher shorts in terms of the science fiction genre, some are more obviously works of science fiction than others. Yes, Superman's status as an alien across the more crime based stories, like Billion Dollar Limited, or fantasy stories, like The Arctic Giant, means there's always a current of sci-fi through the shorts. However, the laboratory and beam weapon of the title character in The Mad Scientist and the robot thieves of The Mechanical Monsters are explicitly and influentially sci-fi.

The aesthetics of those two shorts in particular inspired the "dark deco" style used in Batman: The Animated Series, and the robot thieves would be homaged and referenced in multiple works of media, probably most notably in Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (Dir. Kerry Conran, 2004, USA).

Although not often explicitly cited as an influence on The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (Dir. Eugène Lourié, 1953, USA) or Godzilla (Gojira, Dir. Ishiro Honda, 1954, USA), The Arctic Giant is clearly a precursor to both. The Tyrannosaurus in Arctic Giant is found frozen in the Arctic, like the Rhedosaurus of 20,000 Fathoms. The reporters on the rooftop in Godzilla are just as brave and foolish as Lois Lane in The Arctic Giant when it comes to capturing the story, though sadly they don't have Superman around to prevent their death. Granted all three rampaging dinosaurs owe a debt of influence to Kong trashing New York City in King Kong (Dir. Marion C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack, 1933, USA), but it still was fascinating to see Superman take on a city destroying dinosaur a decade prior to 20,000 Fathoms expanding on the theme, and Godzilla making it truly artful.

In summation, the Fleischer Superman shorts are an influential delight. It's rare to have something from your childhood remain just as engaging and enjoyable to watch as an over-educated adult. If you have never taken the time to see them, I highly recommend you check them out.

[muchamusedaboutnothing]

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 15

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 15

Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester

This story is Act 7 of a saga.

New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.

Series Warnings:

Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.

Canon-typical violence and language.

Lots of whump.

Lots of caring for hurt characters.

Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)

Angst.

Fluff.

Medical talk. Is that even a warning

Image Credit: bing image search, google image search , @sharonisantisocialimagines, @katymacsupernatural.

Wordcount: 2615

Chapter  15

Once in the Impala, Dean produced a package of jerky. "Here, eat. And grab a couple of those pain pills from the jockey box."

You accepted the bag of jerky gratefully, chewing on a piece before dry-swallowing one pill. If it even just dulled the shooting pain in your side and your leg, it would be enough.

Dean cast glances in your direction as he drove. "You want to tell me why you can’t just let me handle this demon?"

You sighed. You really didn't have the words to explain. "It's complicated, but I started this and I just need to be there to finish it."

Dean fixed his gaze on the road again, but his right hand came to rest on your good leg. "Why don't you give Sam a call?" he said instead. "He and Addie are going to be expecting an update."

Sam answered your call after one ring. "Spider Monkey?" The concern was obvious in his voice. "You good?"

"I'm good," you assured him. Then you put the call on speakerphone so Dean could hear as well.

"Thank God," Sam breathed. "Dean said you got her. She's … she's dead then?"

"As a doornail," you answered. "Whatever the hell that means."

Sam sighed in relief and you heard him muttering to Addie to update her. “You're really okay? We’ve all been worried.”

“I’ll live,” you said with a smile. “Your brother patched me up, good as new. Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Sam let out a chuckle that was half-laugh, half-relief. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

Dean shot you an endearing wink, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he drove.

"How's my munchkin?" you asked.

"He's great," Sam assured you. "He'll be happy to see you when you get back, though."

"God, I miss him," you admitted, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes. Tears of relief for having finally killed the witch. Or tears of exhaustion because it had been a long couple of days - er, weeks. Both were true. You blinked them back and told Sam that you’d be in touch later but that you just still had some things to wrap up.

Dean was watching you when you hung up the phone. "Couple of minutes out now," he said. "Get another piece of jerky in ya before we get there, 'kay?"

Dean parked across the street from the shop and cut the engine. You both got out of the car and met around back as he opened the trunk. You loaded your pistol with devil’s trap bullets, racking the slide to chamber a round.

Dean double checked his own weapon and tucked it into the waistband of his pants, grabbing the angel blade he’d retrieved from your truck at the motel. "Best guess, do you think you got all the rest of them? Or is there a chance there are more demons lurking around that you counted before that didn't show up earlier?" he asked.

"I had never seen the one still inside before tonight, so I guess we can't rule out the possibility of there being newer reinforcements. We should definitely be careful heading inside."

"Roger that," Dean said, his free hand going to the small of your back as the two of you crossed the street together and approached the entrance.

You held your pistol at the ready while Dean carried the angel blade as you cleared the entryway and moved inside.

You saw Dean scanning the first room with his eyes as you double-checked that nothing had changed since you'd last been here.

Together you made your way through the building, Dean eyeing the bodies you'd left in your wake on your last visit.

"Top floor, end of the hall," you said. He nodded and started up the stairs first. You double-checked behind you and followed after him.

The demon was right where you left him - trapped just beyond the doorway into the witch's office. "Oh, fantastic. You're back," the demon quipped sarcastically as you approached.

The look on Dean's face when he glanced over his shoulder at you could only be described as incredulous. Understanding washed over him, and you knew your behavior suddenly made sense.

The poor, innocent man the demon was possessing was the spitting image of your brother, save for the pitch-black eyes. The demon smiled ruefully then, a slightly twisted version of the smile in that photograph of you and your brother that currently sat in Jonah’s nursery. The one right next to the photos of John and Mary, your parents, and that shot of Bobby, Ellen, and Joe with Dean and Sam.

"I thought maybe you'd change your mind," the demon said, "but seeing you brought the infamous Dean Winchester with you, I'm guessing that's not true."

The demon smirked. "Ah well, you can't win 'em all. It was a good gig while it lasted. It's too bad, though. I liked this body…."

To your absolute terror, the demon produced a blade from inside the leather jacket he wore. You cried out in protest as he plunged the knife into the chest of the man he possessed. Blood seeped from the wound as the demon laughed.

Dean threw out his arm to block you from getting past him for fear you'd cross the devil's trap in reaction. He also began reciting the exorcism rites.

Out of nowhere, a breeze tossed about the loose papers on the witch’s desk. The demon continued to mock you with laughter as its host body bled, but it’s expression morphed into one of pain as Dean neared the end of the exorcism.

The demon smoked out through the mouth and disappeared as the host body fell lifeless to the floor. You moved past Dean then, immediately hitting your knees and ignoring the searing pain in your thigh as you rolled the man onto his back.

Dean crouched down next to you as you tore at the man's button-up shirt to get a better look at the knife wound. The blade was still embedded in his chest.

"Give me your shirt," you insisted. Dean did as you asked, peeling his second layer off for you to bunch up around the protruding knife to slow the bleeding.

The man was unresponsive, and there was no way to know how much of his faculties had been intact before the demon sealed his fate on the way out. Dean pressed two fingers to the man's throat to feel for a pulse.

You glanced down at your hands, coated in the man's blood, and were suddenly unsure of what to do for him. "Ca - call an ambulance," you muttered.

But Dean was looking at you with shared grief in his eyes as he shook his head in answer. "We can't do that."

His response startled reality back into you as you remembered the utter carnage on the building's lower level from your previous battle. The other bodies that lie dead at your hand - even if the demons possessing them had ultimately been responsible for their demise.

Dean was right.

And it didn't matter that there was a hospital nearby. No amount of CPR was going to save this man.

The pain of losing your brother after you'd tried to stop him bleeding to death in the forest a few years back washed over you again with renewed levels of sorrow. A sob erupted from your throat as blood trickled from the man's mouth.

Dean's arms came around you and he pulled you onto his lap, holding you to his chest as you cried.

"I've got you," he whispered in your ear.

You couldn’t say when the shift occurred, but suddenly you weren't crying tears of grief into his t-shirt, but rather tears of relief that the entire ordeal was over.

With that realization, the tears quickly dried up. When you pulled back, Dean studied your face briefly. You managed a nod to let him know you'd be okay. He kissed your forehead tenderly and helped you to your feet.

Dean paused a second to gaze at the witch's lifeless body on the floor across the room.

Then together you descended the stairway a step at a time.

Once you reached the back door of the shop Dean pressed the Impala keys into your palm. "Go. Pull the car around the block and wait for me."

You pushed through the doorway, feeling the fresh night air on your tear-stained cheeks. Wiping your hands on your sweats to avoid getting blood on the steering wheel, you got in the car like Dean had asked. You quickly pulled around the block and parked along the sidewalk, waiting.

It was twenty minutes before you saw smoke rising up through the sky in the direction of the shop, and another two minutes before Dean came jogging up to the car. You slid over on the seat and he climbed in behind the wheel.

"We're good," he said in explanation.

You nodded in acknowledgement and leaned your head to rest on his shoulder.

"Let's get you back to the room," he added as he pulled into the lane.

Once back at the motel, Dean turned on the shower to heat up and helped you remove your clothes. He took care to place waterproof dressings over your wounds and shed his own clothing before stepping into the shower with you.

He gently but thoroughly helped you wash the blood from your hands and arms and ran soap over your body with a washcloth. The hot water did wonders for your soul.

"Careful, Winchester," you teased as he worked shampoo into your hair. "A girl could get used to this kind of treatment while hunting."

"You've more than earned it, sweetheart." He helped you rinse the shampoo and added conditioner to your hair next. "You did all you could for that man back there," he added after a moment. "There's no way to know how bad off he was before the demon knifed him. Chances are he was long gone way before that."

"I know," you said, turning around in the shower to face him again. "I just had to try, you know?"

Dean nodded in understanding. "I know you did. Just one of the many reasons I love you. All the messed up shit we see on a day-to-day basis, and you still have a heart of gold. But that man is no longer trapped in his own body, and that's a mercy in itself."

"You're right," you said, leaning in to hug him tight. "Thank you. I guess I needed to hear it."

Dean helped you rinse your hair again and stepped out of the shower first to towel dry himself quickly. When you turned the water off he wrapped a fresh towel around you after checking that your waterproof bandages were still intact. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm a little sore, but nothing I can't handle. I've certainly had worse."

He scrutinized your face. "We need to get some food in you. What sounds good? I can go pick something up … "

"Can we just order pizza to the room?"

"Absolutely." He pulled out his phone and searched for a place nearby, ordering your favorite while you slid on a clean pair of pajama bottoms and stole a loose-fitting t-shirt from Dean’s bag. He tossed you the remote and you got comfortable on the bed.

You flipped through the channels, settling on the local news which was running a story about a suspected electrical fire near the hospital. Dean sat next to you on the bed, eyes glued to the channel while the story finished as you nestled up against his side.

"Damn, sweetheart. You really did it,” Dean said. You turned your head to look up at him, studying his face. A soft smile pulled at his lips as he gazed down at you. “You actually put an end to this whole witch business. And it's like … like I can finally breathe again after what feels like forever. It's been hanging over me since that first night I let her slip through my fingers. Then with Jonah and … I just - it's almost hard to believe…."

"She's gone," you added, trailing your finger up and down his arm. "The nightmare is over and she can never come after our family again."

Dean leaned down far enough to kiss the top of your head. "Thank you, sweetheart, for finishing it when I couldn't."

You rested your hand against his cheek, watching his green eyes until he met your gaze. "We did this together," you told him. He lowered his gaze then, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Honey, I know staying behind when I came after her was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do,” you added. “And while Sam wouldn't say it out loud to avoid making things harder on you, I know he felt the same way."

It was quiet for a moment before Dean said, "Wonder how he feels about being on diaper duty?"

You smiled at the thought. "I bet he minds less than he lets on." You would have given anything to be home just then. “I miss our baby boy,” you said. “God, I miss him like crazy. I haven’t really been away from him since he was born. It just feels wrong. I’m still getting used to the idea that he’s healthy, and I just … I don’t know. I hate being away.”

“We’ll get back home soon,” Dean said sympathetically. “Then you can have all the baby snuggles you want. Just gotta make sure you’re fit to be driving first, what with the pain pills and that leg of yours, especially since we have to drive separate vehicles home.”

“Hard to argue with that logic, Winchester.” You smiled softly at him. “But I'm hoping to get out of here first thing tomorrow morning. I can get by on Tylenol after tonight, anyway.”

Dean studied you for a heartbeat. “Let’s see how you’re feeling tomorrow and go from there. Hmm?”

You nodded and leaned your head against his shoulder. “Whatever you say, Dr. Winchester.”

Dean chuckled softly and intertwined your fingers with his, playing with them as the news came back on. You changed the channel to a football game that was on and rooted for the underdog until the sound of a car pulling up announced that dinner had arrived.

Dean met the pizza guy at the door and the two of you ate in bed together with the game playing in the background.

"You know, this is the closest thing to a date night we've had in what feels like forever," you mused.

Dean laughed softly at that. “How about this? I’ll make it up to you and take you out for a nice fancy dinner soon. Hell, Sam can babysit even without Addie. You just focus on getting better, sweetheart. Then we'll celebrate for real.”

“I’ll hold you to it, handsome,” you said with a smile as you picked up a second slice of pizza.

After dinner Dean helped you change your bandages. The lack of sleep and exhaustion was definitely catching up to you. You snuggled up on the bed with your head on his chest as he tenderly ran his fingers over your hair.

The same motel room that had been lonely and cold when you were alone was now warm and comforting as you lay in your husband's arms.

Before long, the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat lulled you into a deep and peaceful sleep like you hadn't enjoyed in months.

Act VII Masterlist.

You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

Please consider supporting my writing by buying me a coffee. In my case, it’s Dr. Pepper, but a little caffeine goes a long way when it comes to writing and posting this labor of love.

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[brokehorrorfan]

Wheels of Fire and Raiders of the Sun have been released on Blu-ray together via Scream Factory. Limited to 1,500, the double feature is available for $29.98 exclusively from Shout Factory.

Wheels of Fire (also known as Vindicator and Desert Warrior) is a 1985 post-apocalyptic action movie directed by Cirio H. Santiago (TNT Jackson) and written by Frederick Bailey. Gary Watkins, Laura Banks, Lynda Wiesmeier, and Linda Grovenor star.

Raiders of the Sun is a 1992 post-apocalyptic action movie directed by Cirio H. Santiago and written by Frederick Bailey. Richard Norton, William Steis, Henry Strzalkowski, Nick Nicholson, Rick Dean, and Joseph Zucchero star.

Both movies are executive produced by Roger Corman. Raiders of the Sun has been newly scanned in 2K from the interpositive. Both films have 2.0 Mono DTS-HD Master Audio. Special features are listed below.

Wheels of Fire special features:

Interview with executive Producer Roger Corman

Interview with screenwriter Fred Bailey

Interview with second unit director Clark Henderson

Trailer

The Highway Warriors terrorize the last vestiges of humanity — and only the enigmatic wanderer known as Trace can stop their ruthless reign of terror.

Raiders of the Sun special features:

Alternate 80-minute cut of the film (full-screen standard definition)

Trailer

A precious source of gunpowder becomes the target of a brutal band of villains... and from the ashes of civilization, a new hero must rise up to restore order.

[docrotten]

CREATURE FROM BLACK LAKE (1976) – Episode 178 – Decades Of Horror 1970s

“Dang creature . . . I’m gonna get my shotgun and make a rug outta that damn thing!” And Jack Elam is just the one who can do it! Join your faithful Grue Crew – Doc Rotten, Chad Hunt, Bill Mulligan, and Jeff Mohr – as they make a trip to the bayou to check out Creature from Black Lake (1976) and its new Synapse Films Blu-ray, released December 13, 2022. It’s a beauty!

Decades of Horror 1970s Episode 178 – Creature from Black Lake (1976)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! And click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

Two young students from the University of Chicago hear of the mysterious happenings at Black Lake and armed with a van packed with scientific equipment set out to solve the mystery.

  Director: Joy N. Houck Jr.

Writer: Jim McCullough Jr. 

Produced by: Jim McCullough (Sr.)

Production Company: Jim McCullough Productions

Distributors: Howco International Pictures (1976) (USA) (theatrical)

Music by: Jaime Mendoza-Nava

Cinematography by: Dean Cundey

Film Editing by: Robert Gordon

Sound: Thomas Causey

Creature design: Dean Cundey

Makeup Department: Charlene Cundey (makeup artist)

Poster Artist: Ralph McQuarrie

Selected cast:

Jack Elam as Joe Canton

Dub Taylor as Grandpaw Bridges

Dennis Fimple as Pahoo

John David Carson as Rives

Bill Thurman as Sheriff Billy Carter

Jim McCullough Jr. as Orville Bridges

Roy Tatum as Fred/Creature

Cathryn Hartt as Eve-Waitress (as Catherine McClenny)

Becky Smiser as Becky Carter

Michelle Willingham as Michelle

Evelyn Hindricks as Grandma Bridges

Roger Pancake as H.B.

Karen Brooks as Orville’s Mother

Chase Tatum as Baby Orville

Jim Garth as Willy (uncredited)

Bob Kyle as Rufus

Joy N. Houck Jr. as Prof. Burch (as J.N. Houck Jr.)

I.M. ‘Buddy’ Brumley Jr. as Barber (uncredited)

To begin with, your Decades of Horror 1970s Grue Crew are universally impressed with the quality in the look and sound of the new Synapse Films Blu-ray release of Creature from Black Lake. In the past, many of the crew had seen the film in a cropped, pan-and-scan version on TV or videotape. They discovered that Creature from Black Lake is an excellent movie that had been marred by the poor quality of many of the prints to which they had access. The Synapse Blu-ray release is a great showcase for Dean Cundy’s cinematography and facilitates a far more enjoyable viewing experience. As far as bigfoot movies of the era, Creature from Black Lake moves to the top among a select few. Synapse did a great service to horror fans in restoring Creature from Black Lake to this pristine, widescreen format.

After gushing over the Synapse Blu-ray, the Grue-Crew gushes equally over the movie itself. A great cast of character actors led by Jack Elam, Dub Taylor, Bill Thuman, Dennis Fimple, and John David Carson, supported by a well-cast group of locals, makes Creature from Black Lake a heck of a fun watch. In fact, they were having so much fun, they forgot to mention that Cathryn Hartt (credited as Catherine McClenny), who played Eve-the-waitress, is Morgan Fairchild’s sister. And be assured, there are plenty of creature shenanigans to supply the tension required in a good bigfoot film. 

The crew’s thanks go out to Synapse Films for supplying them with the Blu-ray screeners! The official release date is Tuesday, December 13, 2022. You can purchase your copy at Creature from Black Lake (1080p Blu-ray + Limited Edition Slipcover) – Synapse Films. You know you want it!

Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror 1970s is part of the Decades of Horror two-week rotation with The Classic Era and the 1980s. In two weeks, the next episode in their very flexible schedule will be Count Dracula (1970), directed by Jesús “Jess” Franco and starring Christopher Lee, Herbert Lom, Klaus Kinski, Maria Rohm, and Soledad Miranda. Yes, Grue Believers, this is their first Jess Franco movie.

We want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans: comment on the site or email the Decades of Horror 1970s podcast hosts at feedback@gruesomemagazine.com. 

Check out this episode!

[solradguy]

Black Plane illustration from Views by Roger Dean (1975).

[doktordyper]

Roger Dean | commissioned book cover for View Over Atlantis by John Michell | 1972

[thegroovyarchives]

Roger Dean From Views, Roger Dean, 1975.

[tina-aumont]

Hollywood

Does Tina and Christian Marquand divorce?

As is known, Tina Marquand, the daughter of the late Maria Montez and Jean-Pierre Aumont, married to Christian Marquand, has started a film career that has led her with a dizzying speed to Hollywood, after only two films: "Modesty Blaise" by Joseph Losey, and "La Curée" by Vadim. In Hollywood, Tina works in a "western" with Alain Delon and Dean Martin: "Texas Across the River". A few days ago, her husband, who was temporarily residing in California, has rushed back to Europe. While Tina is constantly dating Darryl Zanuck! There is already talk of the divorce of Christian and Tina, and there is also talk of the fabulous future that awaits the girl in "the Mecca of Cinema". In the photo, Christian and Tina not long ago, when they were still friends.

Scan and caption from Spanish magazine Fotogramas, 8th April 1966.

[440mxs-wife]

It’s About Time

Pairing: Bucky x F!Reader, mention/hint of Dean x F!Reader (past). Other Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson, Clint Barton, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester and Jeremiah Nelson/Demon!Dazon (OMC). Mentioned: Happy Hogan and Bobby Singer.

Word Count: 6456

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, but for the most part, here there be FLUFF. (And maybe some references to “bow-chicka-wow-wow” times, but no smut.)

Summary: The final battle is at hand, with the Demon Dazon making his appearance. Everything seems to be going to plan, until....it doesn’t. A wrinkle in the plan appears from an unexpected source, so you have to think fast. You only hope your hunting skills will be enough to be successful in defeating Dazon and avenging your parents.

A/N: Last part!! It all comes down to the final battle between the Hunters and Avengers vs. the Demons. And of course, there was no way I was going leave this without including a wedding! This has been a fun mini-series to write, but the characters make it so easy. Thank you all so much for joining me on this ride, and hope you like this last part.

A/N 2: You;ll find Part 1, Perfect Timing here, Part 2, Running Out of Time here, Part 3 In the Nick of Time here, and Part 4, Turning Back Time here. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time you and Bucky had joined the gala, it was nearly in full swing. You saw the usual crowd of CEOs and other executives with their wives in attendance, along with some government officials. Some were dancing, others were hanging out at the bar, the buffet table, or bending Tony's ear about something.

Every once in a while, you checked in with your team members through your earpiece to determine if Dazon had made an appearance. So far, no one had seen him, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he showed up. Until then, you'd have to remain on your guard and ready for pretty much anything.

A little over an hour after you and Bucky arrived, you were coming back to the table when you spotted Dazon at the ballroom entrance. He was flanked by the same two bodyguards that had stopped you, Natasha and Wanda outside the clothing store a few days ago. "Heads up, everyone, the Eagle has landed," you murmured into your earpiece.

"Do not engage, repeat, do not engage," Dean commanded. "You're the one he's after, and you need to stay out of his sight," he added.

"Acknowledged, Dean. I'm not going to do anything to make things worse," you retorted.

"Oh, like you did the other day outside the store?" he shot back.

"Hey, let's cut the chatter and keep our focus on the objective," Steve broke in.

"Sorry, Cap," you replied. By this time, you were back to Bucky's side, his arm around you. The smell of his aftershave sent a wave of comfort over you.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Bucky inquired as he kissed that spot behind your ear that he knows can make you weak in the knees. He took a deep breath and caught the scent of his favorite perfume on you, causing him to be the one with possible knee problems.

"I'm fine, just want this to be over and done with already," you muttered. As you scanned the room, a thought occurred to you. Of all your team members, you had yet to see Clint "Hawkeye" Barton. "Hey, has anyone seen Clint yet tonight? Repeat, anyone got eyes on Hawkeye?"

Before anyone could answer, Tony appeared on the stage with a folder in his hand and grabbed the microphone. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for being here tonight. As you know, the Stark Foundation is always looking for opportunities to support the community. The inspiration for tonight's award comes from someone within my own company," he announced.

Tony went on to explain that a scholarship was being created in honor of your parents in the amount of $1million. He mentioned that while you attended college, you took classes within the Foreign Language Department. Since then, the Foreign Language program of your school had received private donations from your parents to keep it afloat. With his help, the scholarship would continue to fund the program for future students of foreign languages.

Tony's eyes roamed the crowd until they landed on yours. He smiled and beckoned you to join him on the stage to accept the award on behalf of your parents. A certificate had been printed for you to present to the dean of your college alma mater.

As soon as you were halfway up to the stage, the lights in the ballroom went out, plunging the entire ballroom into darkness. Realizing that Dazon was finally making his move, Tony shouted, "FRIDAY! Lock down the Tower and seal off this room!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When the lights came back up, your upper arms were being gripped by Dazon's guards. But most concerning was that Hawkeye was standing in front of you. He had an arrow in his bow, drawn and aimed straight at your heart. His eyes had flashed completely black, indicating he was being possessed by a demon, confirming your worst fears.

Bucky, Steve and Natasha started to rush towards you and Clint. "WAIT! NO, DON'T! STAY BACK EVERYONE, PLEASE!" you implored. Dazon's guards tightened their hold on your arms, making you wince from the bruises you knew were being inflicted.

Dean and Sam walked slowly over to the table where you and Bucky had been sitting. "Yeah, don't. You'll never reach her in time, and there's a demon controlling Hawkeye right now," Dean carefully explained.

"Excellent advice, Mr. Winchester, and you are exactly correct," Dazon confirmed. "Although, if you care more about your precious archer than this woman, then by all means, keep advancing," he smirked. He sauntered over to where you were being held. "I've been waiting a long time for this, my dear. Your parents caused me no end of trouble by interrupting my plans for a demon army," he remarked.

You lifted your chin in defiance, glaring at Dazon. "My parents were right to put a stop to you all those years ago. The world may be a mess right now, but one thing it doesn't need is another demon trying to rule it," you spat out.

Dazon drew his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, leaving a red mark. Bucky charged at Dazon, intent on making him pay for putting his hand on you. Steve and Natasha were only barely able to hold him back, knowing it would be worse for you if Bucky tried to fight Dazon. You silently communicated to Bucky that you were all right, and to hold on just a little bit longer.

"You know, I think I like this meatsuit. He's durable, in great physical condition, and a captain of industry. Which means I have thousands of loyal employees ready and willing to do whatever I tell them to do. I like it here. I think I'll stick around for awhile, rebuild my army," Dazon mused.

"Now, you know we can't allow you to do that," Dean replied, his M1911A1 pistol raised and pointed at Dazon. In response, Dazon waved his hand and sent Dean flying across the room, crashing into a table covered with empty drink glasses. Dean was a little slow in rising to his feet, but you were more concerned with the gash in his forehead from the impact with the table.

"I don't think you're in any position to stop me, Winchester. None of you are, as a matter of fact," Dazon declared. "It was so easy to get to Mr. Barton here," he motioned in Clint's direction. "Apparently, he forgot to get himself inked, which would've kept my lieutenant, Tarkil, out. But, with no anti-possession symbol, it was like walking through the front door and setting up shop," Dazon gloated.

You turned to Hawkeye, locking your gaze on him. "Clint," you started. "Clint, I know you're still in there, and you're stronger than the demon. You know me, I'm your friend, and I know you don't want to hurt me. Come on Clint, you can do this! Fight it! Kick the demon out!" you shouted.

The grip on his bow and arrow had started to waver and his aim had shifted a little from its original target. He was blinking rapidly and shaking his head as if trying to clear it from the demon residing in his body. Suddenly he dropped his bow and arrow and clutched his head with both hands, roaring in intense agony. The demon was trying to keep control, but you could tell it was rapidly losing ground to Clint, who was getting close to expelling the offending party.

"That's it, Clint, you're doing great, you've almost got him out," you coaxed. Black smoke suddenly erupted from out of Clint's mouth and he dropped to the ground, still alive, but unconscious.

"SILENCE!" Dazon screeched. His hand shot out and grabbed your neck, lifting you off the ground, then he started to squeeze. "You are as troublesome as your parents were, and you know what happened to them," he seethed.

Black spots started appearing in front of you, and were getting larger the harder he gripped your neck. You didn't have much time before you would completely lose consciousness. "Any last words before I finish choking the life out of you, hunter?" he retorted.

"Yes," you managed to whisper. You took a deep breath before uttering what you hoped wouldn't be your final words. "FRIDAY....SMOKE ON THE WATER," you exclaimed.

A puzzled look crossed Dazon's face at your choice of last words. A chime sounded to indicate that FRIDAY had indeed heard your command and began to play the pre-recorded message.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.

Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!

A red smoke seeped out of Jeremiah Nelson and floated to the ceiling while his body dropped to the floor, unconscious, but alive. Dazon's spirit tried to escape through the air vent, but was blocked. It tried seeping under the door, which was also blocked. The smoke that was Dazon's spirit began to swirl around on the ceiling, as it was trapped with no meatsuit to wear.

From a nearby table, Sam produced an Enochian puzzle box and opened the lid, which pulled Dazon's spirit in. As soon as the lid to the box was closed, the markings and symbols glowed orange for a few seconds then went dark. Sam took the puzzle box and placed it inside of a bigger box. The larger box had the proper warding and symbols on it to ensure Dazon's permanent captivity.

Once Dazon's spirit was no longer connected to his meatsuit, you were released from his hold and you dropped to the floor. Bucky rushed over to your side and cradled your unconscious form in his arms. "No no no, baby, come on," he crooned. "Please wake up, sweetheart," he pleaded while rocking you back and forth.

Dean knelt down beside you and Bucky, his fingers pressed to your wrist. "She's just unconscious, I can feel her pulse but it's kinda weak," he affirmed.

"Okay, let's get her to the MedBay. FRIDAY, ask Dr. Cho to meet us there so she can check--" Tony started but was interrupted by a groaning noise heard from you.

"My head hurts," you rasped. "Did we get him? Is everybody okay?" you asked through half-lidded eyes.

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief that you had regained consciousness. His right hand cradled your cheek, and when you gazed into his soulful eyes, you could see unshed tears shimmering in them. "Hi," he whispered shakily.

"Hi," you whispered back, then turned to press a kiss to the palm of his hand. Bucky closed his eyes, reveling in your touch. A few tears escaped, which you brushed away with the pad of your thumb before covering his hand on your cheek with your hand. "Is it over?"

Bucky nodded. "It's over. His spirit is trapped inside one box, which Sam put inside another box. Clint's demon is gone, he's being tended to right now," he informed you.

You tried to maneuver yourself to a sitting position so you could then stand up, but your body was still a little weak from the fight with Dazon. Bucky helped you up from the floor and into a nearby chair from one of the dinner tables. He brought you some water to ease the burning in your throat due to the lack of oxygen.

"Tony, everybody, get out of my way, I have to see her," Clint bellowed. He was struggling to escape from Tony and the medical personnel trying to treat him to get to you. As soon as his eyes found you, he ran over to where you were sitting. "Sunshine, I'm so sorry for what happened," he implored. "I can't believe I almost....If I had released...." he trailed off, trying to keep his emotions under control.

You put your hand on Clint's arm and looked him straight in the eyes. "Clint, you have nothing to apologize for. I know that wasn't you in control, because the real you wouldn't have let anything happen to me," you replied.

"I would never," Clint whispered, his bottom lip trembling. "I felt so helpless, I couldn't do anything, couldn't stop any of it from happening."

"I bet it felt like you were in a dream, right? You know, the kind where you scream at the top of your lungs and no one hears you?" you asked, to which he nodded. "Yeah, I've been possessed by a demon before, so I know what it feels like and it sucks," you chuckled. Clint responded with a watery grin. "You're still my friend, Clint, that hasn't changed. I'll follow you into battle any day," you asserted with a smile. The two of you embraced, then Clint allowed himself to be taken to the MedBay to be checked over.

"How about you, pretty girl? You ready to be checked over by Dr. Cho?" Bucky asked.

"I'm fine, James. Nothing a little rest and cuddling with my favorite super soldier wouldn't fix. And if it happens to lead to....'other activities', well....I certainly wouldn't be opposed to it," you added slyly.

Bucky scooped you up in his arms and held you close to his body. "I can certainly manage some cuddling, but I think we should stick to getting some rest. We've had a busy night, solnyshka," he replied with a weary grin.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back up in your room, you and Bucky helped each other out of your formal attire and made sure it was all carefully hung up in the closet. After you had changed into pajamas, you climbed in under the sheets and Bucky soon followed. He laid on his back, with one arm curled around you, keeping you close by his side. Your free arm was draped across his midsection, your fingers dancing on and under his T-shirt.

The two of you had been laying in bed together, enjoying each other's presence, when you lifted your head and waited for Bucky to look at you. "Let's get married," you declared.

"What are you talking about, sweetheart? We're already getting married a few months from now," Bucky reminded you.

"I know, but I mean this week. Let's get married this week," you clarified. At the puzzled look on Bucky's face, you continued. "Think about it, James. All of our friends--family, really--they're all already here. That's all we need. I'm sure Tony can pull some strings to expedite the marriage license, but why couldn't we?" you pondered.

The more Bucky thought about it, the more he realized you were right. Neither of you wanted a big, flashy wedding, but one more intimate, only close family and friends. "Okay. Okay, let's do it," he responded with a grin on his handsome face.

"Really?!? You mean it??" you exclaimed, to which he nodded.

"Solnyshka, there is very little in this world I would deny you, and this definitely isn't one of those things. I can tell how important this is to you. If it makes you happy, then who am I to stand in the way of that? Besides, it means I can call you my wife that much sooner," he added with a gentle tap to the end of your nose.

"Oh, James," you whispered, tears prickling behind your eyelids. "I love you so much, and I can't wait to call you my husband," you remarked.

"I love you, my solnyshka," Bucky replied, then rolling over so he was facing you. He started dropping feather-light kisses anywhere he could reach, your cheeks, your neck, eyelids, nose. It was like he was on a mission to leave no inch of your skin untouched by his lips, as if to devour you. Not that you minded in the least.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's amazing the amount of stuff that can be done in a short amount of time with an unlimited bank account. Tony was indeed able to call in a favor for nearly every major part of the wedding experience. Whatever you needed, Tony had a connection for it.

Tony was able to get an expedited marriage license for you and Bucky, because one of his friends was a judge. This judge also happened to be at the fundraising gala that night and was a former hunter, long since retired from the life. He was only too happy to grant this favor to Tony in exchange for having saved his life at the gala. The judge even offered to officiate the wedding, to which you and Bucky agreed.

For his part, Bucky chose Steve to be his Best Man, with Sam Wilson as a groomsman, while Thor and Loki were designated as ushers. Knowing how important they are to you, Bucky personally extended an invitation to the Winchesters to be his guests for the wedding. As such, it put them in the front row at the ceremony. At the reception, Sam and Dean had seats near the head table with all the other Avengers.

On your side, you asked Natasha to be your maid of honor, with Wanda as a bridesmaid. Since your father and Uncle Bobby could not do so, you asked Tony if he would walk you down the aisle.

When you asked him, he tried to act like he wasn't emotionally affected by hiding behind his tinted glasses. You could tell he was a little choked up, but you wisely refrained from saying anything out loud. Deep down, you knew he wasn't expecting you to choose him, though he was deeply honored to give you away.

Everyone in the wedding party and the small number of guests were either Avengers or close friends. For this reason, you and Bucky chose to have the ceremony in the Tower Gardens. As such, there was no need for the men to dress in tuxedos, but they did make use of Tony's favorite tailor. Everyone got new suits, including Sam and Dean.

The bridal party once again set out together to find their wedding attire. The bridesmaid and maid of honor dresses you chose were floor-length in navy blue satin with spaghetti straps. They had a racer-back and a mesh criss-cross at the waist.

Your wedding dress was a white, off-the-shoulder ball gown style, with a sweep train and a navy blue and silver beaded sash at the waist. It had metallic appliqués with beads and sequins from top to halfway down the tulle skirt that sparkled when you moved.

The minute you stepped into it, you knew it was the dress. Nat and Wanda's reactions confirmed that you had made the perfect choice. Although you were more comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt, you felt very much like a princess in your dress. You couldn't wait to see Bucky's reaction to you.

As was tradition, the night before the wedding saw you and Bucky sleeping apart. Of course, that didn't stop the two of you from texting each other well into the night. The two of you officially signed off at around 1:00 a.m., with promises to meet each other at the altar.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The wedding day was a flurry of activity, making sure everything for both sides of the wedding was done perfectly. For the bride's side, that included professionals for hair and makeup. Tony also sent Pepper in to the bridal suite to keep everything organized and running smoothly.

"Okay, something old? Check, I have this locket that once belonged to my mother. Something new? My dress. Something borrowed? Nat's shoes, thank you, love. Something blue? The sash on my dress. And a sixpence for my shoe," you finished, looking around for a penny.

"Here you go," Pepper held out a penny with the current year on it and helped you slip it into your shoe. "You know, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you threw Tony for a loop when you asked him to give you away," she shared.

"I wondered about that," you murmured. "He tried to hide behind those tinted glasses of his, but I know he wasn't expecting me to ask this of him."

"Yeah, he's tough on the outside like that iron suit he sometimes wears, but inside? He's just a soft marshmallow," Pepper grinned as she shrugged her shoulders.

You giggled at her analogy. "With the penny, that's everything, then. I'm ready to get married now," you affirmed. "How do you think it's going with the guys?" you wondered.

>>>

"Hey, Steve, you've got the rings, right?" Bucky asked his Best Man.

Steve made a show of patting his pockets and looking around like he didn't know where the rings were. "I don't know, Buck, they were just here. I swear I put them in my pocket, but I don't feel them in there right now," Steve replied.

"Aww, you gotta be kiddin' me, Steve! How could you lose the rings? Holding on to the rings was pretty much your only--" Bucky trailed off when he saw his best friend's shoulders shaking from laughing so hard. "Punk," he muttered.

"Just a bit of pre-wedding humor, Buck," Steve remarked.

"Yeah? Well, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Bucky retorted. Then he gave Steve a friendly nudge to let him know all was forgiven. "Wonder how it's going with the girls. 'Specially my bride, I bet she looks just like an angel, Stevie," Bucky mused. "Today's the day I make her my wife."

Steve clapped his hand on Bucky's shoulder. "I know. Let's go get you married, Buck," he grinned.

>>>

Bucky, Steve and Sam made their way to the front of the altar to await the procession of the bridal party. First, Natasha sauntered down the aisle and took her place opposite the groom's party. She flashed a wink at Dean, taking him completely by surprise. Wanda soon followed, filing in behind Natasha.

The music changed to Pachelbel's Canon in D, signaling it was your turn to walk down the aisle towards your groom. You caught Tony just before he took his first step forward. "Sunny? You okay?" he asked.

You flashed him a brilliant smile worthy of your nickname. "I'm perfect, Tony. I'm marrying the love of my life today, and a lot of the thanks goes to you. So thank you, Tony. For everything," you whispered, trying to hold back your tears.

"You're welcome, kid," Tony replied gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. He cleared his throat to disguise his attempt to get his emotions back under wraps. "Let's go get you married, Sunny," he smiled.

>>>

When you took that first step into view of the altar, Bucky's breath was taken away. He already knew you were beautiful, but today, you were exquisite. For him, time seemed to slow down and the rest of the world melted away until it was just the two of you. With each step that brought you closer to him, his smile grew so much, his cheeks felt like they would split open.

The moment your eyes landed on Bucky, his was the only face you saw. No wedding guests on either side of the aisle, no bridesmaids or groomsmen at the front, just your future husband. Every step you took was one towards a life you would share with the man who was your best friend, your lover, your everything. And he would soon be yours, as much as you would be his, as husband and wife.

Once you finally reached the altar, you looked closer and could see there were tears shimmering in Bucky's eyes that had yet to fall. You hoped they were of joy, because it was rare for you to see Bucky cry except under extreme circumstances. Bucky held out his hand to guide you the few extra steps to the altar. As Tony put your hand in Bucky's, he leaned over and said, "Take care of her, Barnes." Bucky nodded in response.

"Hi, sweetheart. You....you look....you do look like an angel," Bucky finally managed.

"Hello, my love. You look more handsome than I've ever seen," you remarked softly.

A rogue tear had broken loose and rolled down Bucky's cheek. You handed your bouquet to Natasha and turned back around to Bucky. With your right hand, you cradled his face and wiped away his tears with your thumbs. Bucky gave a huff of laughter and he smiled. "There it is. That smile I've been missing since we parted last night," you whispered.

"Let's do this, hmm?" Bucky responded with a wink. You nodded, then you both turned your attention to the judge.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The ceremony was simple, but it was easily the most beautiful, because of the love you and Bucky held for each other. The judge announced that you both had written your own vows, and he invited you to share them with everyone.

"My sweet solnyshka....you are one of the best parts of my life. You accepted me, all of me, even the darkest parts of my life. But that's why I call you 'solnyshka', which means 'sunshine'. It's because you shine your generous, caring heart on me to chase away the darkness. I will love, honor, and definitely cherish you. I will be your shoulder to cry on if or when life overwhelms you. To share in all of your joys and to not be the source of your pain. This I promise to do for the rest of my days," Bucky affirmed. He winked at you and mouthed the words, "your turn".

"My brave sergeant....ever since that first conversation we had in my office about books, I knew how special you were. I had heard about what the hardships you'd experienced in your life. But despite it all, James, you have remained a kind, compassionate, thoughtful man. You are worthy of everything good this world has to offer you. I will love, honor, and definitely cherish you. I will be your safe harbor whenever a storm rises, and mend any parts after it passes. To show you how much you mean to me and to not let you forget it. This I promise to do for the rest of my days," you pledged.

Next came the exchange of rings. This time, Steve did not risk Bucky's ire by pretending he'd forgotten them or couldn't find them. With trembling hands, Bucky slid your wedding band on your left ring finger, then kissed it. You grasped Bucky's wedding band and gave him a wink before slipping it on his left ring finger and kissing it.

"By the power vested in me by the great State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," the judge announced.

Bucky wasted no time in sweeping you into his arms and giving you that first kiss as a married couple. "I love you, solnyshka," he whispered.

"I love you, James," you responded.

"Ladies and gentlemen: It is my distinct honor to present to you Mr. and Mrs. James Barnes!" the judge proclaimed. The garden erupted into cheers of joy and shouts of congratulations for the new married couple as they walked back up the aisle and into the Tower for the reception.

"Reception is in the first ballroom on the 81st floor, the one right as you step off the elevator," Tony informed the guests.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After a lavish dinner of prime rib or chicken, with mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables, it was time for toasting the happy couple. Steve went first as Best Man, followed by Natasha as Maid of Honor. Each of the wedding party members, including Thor and Loki, had a chance to offer their congratulations or even words of advice.

Even Tony had a chance at the microphone and after he was finished, he placed it on the table near Sam and Dean's places. The brothers first looked at each other, then at Tony who acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. Sam motioned for Dean to take this opportunity and give his toast. Dean rolled his eyes, but picked up the microphone as he stood from his chair.

"Hey everybody," Dean started, then cleared his throat. "My name's Dean Winchester, I'm pretty new around here, well, I guess so is my brother, Sam. But, we've been friends with the bride for a long time, since we used to work together. I could probably tell you some really good stories, but I think I need a few more drinks for that," he chuckled. A ripple of laughter went through the crowd at his remark, then he continued.

"Her nickname around here is 'Sunshine', which sure fits. At one point, I used to think she and I would end up together, but....guess it wasn't meant to be, not for us anyway," he remarked. Raising his champagne flute to you and Bucky, he continued. "She's an amazing woman, Sergeant Barnes. One of the best. Take care of each other, be there for each other, love each other. Do that, and you'll have it made. To the bride and groom," Dean finished.

Everyone raised their glasses after Dean's speech. Afterwards, you locked eyes with Dean and smiled, then mouthed, "Thank you". You then turned and gave Bucky a lingering kiss on the lips. Tony walked over to Dean's table and retrieved the microphone to make a few announcements. He mentioned that some of the tables would be cleared momentarily so that the dancing could start.

Fortunately, Tony's usual go-to DJ for his parties was available. After the tables were cleared, you and Bucky shared your first dance as a married couple. After that, it was dancing with the parents, but both your parents and Bucky's were gone. So, Tony danced the father part with you, while Pepper danced with Bucky as the mother part.

The DJ played the usual group dances, like the Cha-Cha Slide, the Hokey Pokey, the Electric Slide and even the Chicken Dance. During one of your breaks, you told Natasha how Dean had asked about her the day he showed up at the Tower.

Nat gave you a knowing wink and left you with Bucky, then approached Dean at his table to ask him to dance. You were surprised when he accepted, because the last you knew, thee Dean Winchester did not dance, not even when asked. They danced the end of a fast song, which led into a slow one. At one point, you caught Dean's eye and toasted him with your drink. He gave you the thumbs-up from his hold on Natasha.

After much dancing and champagne drinking, it was time to leave for some alone time with your husband. You and Bucky decided to spend your wedding night in your room in the Tower. Soundproof measures were engaged of course, courtesy of FRIDAY.

When you got to the door, Bucky opened it a crack, then scooped you up into his arms. You let out a shriek of surprise when he cradled you to his chest, then threw your arms around his neck. Once inside, he gently set you back on your feet, but didn't fully release you. He dipped his head towards you and gave you a long, breath-stealing kiss.

You carefully slipped your feet out of Nat's borrowed shoes, groaning in relief. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky staring intently at you, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "See something you like, Sarge?" you wondered coyly.

Bucky took your hand and tugged you closer then wrapped his arms around you. "You're so beautiful, solnyshka. I can't believe you're finally mine," he murmured.

"I was always yours, James," you remarked, caressing his cheek with your hand. "Now, I can't seem to reach the zipper on the back of my dress. Would you be so kind as to assist me in that task, Mr. Barnes?" you asked innocently, batting your eyes.

"As you wish, Mrs. Barnes," Bucky replied. He placed one hand on your shoulder and with the other, he brushed your hair from your neck. Then he took hold of the zipper tab, slowly dragging it down, wanting to savor every second of undressing his new wife.

Bucky leaned forward and dropped soft kisses to each new inch of skin revealed by the retreating zipper. Once it reached its end, he pushed the dress off your shoulders while you drew your arms out of the sleeves.The fabric and lace pooled at your feet, leaving you in your thigh-high stockings and new lingerie. The item, a white bodysuit with a lace front and cutout in the mid-section, was a gift from your bachelorette party.

"Whoa, baby," Bucky whispered. "Who do I have to thank for this?" he asked.

You giggled at his reaction. "It was a gift from Wanda at my bachelorette party," you explained.

"Definitely have to thank her for this. Now, as much as I like this on you, I'd much rather it was on the floor," he remarked. He curled his pinky finger around one of the straps and gently tugged it down from your shoulder, then repeated the motion on the other side. By the look in his eyes, you were in for one of the best nights of your life, made better because now he was your husband.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was late morning the following day before any Avenger or Winchester ventured outside of their rooms. Steve came in first, followed by Sam Wilson, only one of whom was nursing a light hangover. Thor and Loki were next, still feeling the effects of the Asgardian mead they consumed at the wedding reception.

Sam and Dean came in next, followed by Natasha and Wanda. Neither Winchester appeared to be nursing much of a hangover at all, a fact which did not escape attention.

"Wait a minute, hold up," Sam Wilson started. "You two drank the most of all of us, yet you're in here fresh as daisies. What gives?" he demanded, pointing at Dean.

"High alcohol tolerance," Dean responded. "Whiskey, or alcohol in general, is pretty much currency in the hunting world," he explained.

"He's right, Falcon, but even the great Dean Winchester has his limits. Oh, I could tell you some stories," you teased. "Good morning, everyone," you smiled. Bucky appeared a few seconds later, wrapping his arms around you from behind and offering his greetings as well.

"Good morning to you, newlyweds," Natasha replied. "Certainly didn't expect to see you today, if not for a few days at least," she smirked.

"Really, Nat? I certainly didn't expect to see you in a Led Zeppelin T-shirt, either. Particularly because I know exactly where it came from," you responded smugly. Natasha's face flushed a deep red, which left her unable to reply. On your way to make coffee, you affectionately squeezed her shoulder so she knew you were only teasing.

Moments later, Tony appeared with a large envelope in his hand. His face broke out into a smile when he noticed you and Bucky in the kitchen. "Ah, good, you're both here. Although, I must say, I'm a little surprised," he mused. "Anyway, I know you were stressing about the honeymoon, not wanting it to interfere with any missions, so here you go. Two weeks, go, have fun," he said as he handed you the envelope.

Bucky peered over your shoulder as you opened the envelope to find a pair of airline tickets. In addition to the wedding, he had taken care of planning your honeymoon as well. He assured you that it was all arranged and all paid for you and Bucky to take a two-week cruise in the Mediterranean. There were stops in Lisbon, Marseilles, Athens and so many other cities it made your head spin.

"Tony," you breathed. "This is wonderful, it's a dream come true, but it's too much. You already did so much for us as it is," you protested and tried to return the envelope.

Tony held up his hands, refusing to take it back. "Nope, uh-uh, sorry Sunny, but this is non-refundable, so you two had better go get packed. There's a car waiting for you downstairs for Happy to take you to the airport. I'll even let you use my jet to take you to the port where you board the ship," he stated.

You and Bucky looked at each other and decided that yes, this would be the perfect honeymoon. Before you left the kitchen, you threw your arms around Tony's neck. "Thank you, Tony. We'll never forget everything you did for us," you choked out.

"Okay, okay, come on. Go get packed, you don't want to miss your boat," Tony muttered. You disentangled yourself from Tony. Then you grabbed Bucky's hand and practically ran back to your room to pack your bags.

About thirty minutes later, you and Bucky were in the car, waving goodbye to everyone as it pulled away from the curb. Happy drove you around to the private jet terminal, where there was a red carpet leading up to the steps to enter the jet. Two flight attendants greeted you and Bucky and followed you up the stairs into the cabin of the aircraft. They congratulated you on getting married, and you promised to let them know if there was anything more they could do.

Soon after you and Bucky were secured in your seats, the overhead speaker crackled to life, with a pre-flight announcement from the pilot. You smiled as you reached over and took Bucky's hand in yours, intertwining your fingers.

"Good afternoon, this is your captain speaking. We are currently fourth in line for takeoff to your final destination, which we will reach in just under two hours. I would like to wish a sincere congratulations to the new Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. I hope that the two of you will have a wonderful and romantic honeymoon on your Mediterranean cruise. Please relax and enjoy the flight."

As soon as the seat belt sign was off, you grabbed the packet of information that Tony had put together for your honeymoon. "Oh, James, this is going to be so amazing! We have our own private balcony on the ship, right outside our room. There are tours we can take to explore--" Bucky gently interrupted by placing a finger on your lips.

"My love, my darling wife, all of that is wonderful, really. What I'm most looking forward to is the room service available 24/7. Because I don't see us getting out of our room much, at least not the first couple of days," Bucky remarked, an amorous look in his eyes.

"Oh. Well, I can see what you mean, my love. However, I don't think we should spend ALL of our time on the ship. We're going to be stopping in some pretty amazing places," you pointed out.

"Hmm, that may be true, but they're not as amazing as you, sweetheart. By the way, did you know that this jet has a bedroom in the back? Care to join the 'Mile-High Club' with me, Mrs. Barnes?" he grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

You took his hand in yours and started walking towards the back of the plane. "I would, but....I may have some trouble getting out of this dress," you pouted. "Do you suppose you could help me with that, Mr. Barnes?" you batted your eyelashes.

"I'm right behind you," Bucky chuckled. He nudged you forward until you were practically dragging him behind you to the room. Once inside, he closed the door and slid the lock in place. "I love you so much, Mrs. Barnes," he remarked.

"And I love you, Mr. Barnes," you replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags:

@katelyn--renee, @evergreencowboy, @lassie-bird, @phoenixisred, @rslizj, @writercole, @vicmc624, @huffle-pissed, @imherefordeanandbones​

[junkyarddogmkii]

INFO //

Main: @solradguy

Scans/translations are free to use for whatever as long as it’s not commercial. I don’t own any of this. New scans are posted on solradguy first and reblogged here on a slight delay to kinda spread them out. Translations on posts are done by me unless otherwise credited. 

TRANSLATIONS //

== All Entries: #Translations

== Guilty Gear: #Guilty Gear Translations

GUILTY GEAR //

Character tags are the character’s full official name. EX: Ky Kiske, Dizzy, A.B.A, I-No, etc.

== All Entries: #Guilty Gear

== Artworks of Guilty Gear X 2000-2007 // TAG: #awoggx2k2k7

== Guilty Gear 2 -Overture- Material Collection // TAG: #gg2omc

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== GGX: Lightning The Argent // TAG: #Lightning The Argent

== Guilty Gear Comic Anthology (1998) // TAG: #Guilty Gear Comic Anthology

== Doujinshi // TAG: #Doujinshi

== Reposts/Remasters/etc. // TAG: #From The Archives

== Masterposts // TAG: #Masterposts

ILLUSTRATIVE ART //

== Yoshitaka Amano // TAG: #Yoshitaka Amano

== Roger Dean // TAG: #Roger Dean

== Shadowrun // TAG: #Shadowrun

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ANIME //

== Cowboy Bebop // TAG: #Cowboy Bebop

OTHER //

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[idkxwriting]

Hi!! For the dialogue prompts could you do 65. “That’s not what I meant and you know it”?

No character, so I kinda ran with Steve Rogers for this one ❤️ just to switch things up 😅 sorry if you were anticipating Elijah or even Dean. But hopefully you still like it! ❤️ Also sorry its like twenty years late. I’m rusty af.

“I can’t have her on my team, Natasha,” Steve said in a hushed tone.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but then you made out the Captain’s voice. You would have shrugged it off and moved on if you hadn’t pieced together that he was, in fact, talking about you. After that, you couldn’t help but listen in.

“She’s more than qualified,” Natasha stated. You felt a pang in your chest that your friend would have your back.

“It compromises things...”

There was a pause before she responded, you could hear the tell tale signs of her gearing up. “What exactly do you want me to do here?”

You could picture his jaw set and his arms crossed over his chest when he replied. “I feel like I have to watch her every move. I can’t do my job when she’s...”

“We are fifteen minutes out from our next mission,” she pushed back, cutting him off. “If you want her reassigned, do it yourself.”

You didn’t wait for his response. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of backing down, instead grabbing the rest of your gear and making your presence known. Natasha gave no tells that they had been speaking about you, leaving you unsure whether it was her years of training or simple disinterest.

Steve had shifted though, taking a deep breath and averting his eyes, his cheeks burning with what you could only assume was guilt.

Good, you thought. You moved past them in silence, letting your shoulder bump his a little too hard as you squeezed past him to take your seat on the Quinjet. You buckled up in silence, grateful when Tony and Thor boarded, both personalities large enough to stamp out the awkward tension.

You weren’t sure what you had done to get on Captain America’s bad side. In fact, up until recently things had been going well with him, finding yourself in sync both on and off the field. Which is why it had been such a shock when he began to ice you out a few weeks ago. The sudden rejection and distance he had placed between you felt like emotional whiplash.

Still, you pushed forward. You had a job to do, and you weren’t about to let anything (or anyone) interfere with that.

                                    *****

“Anyone have eyes on Rip?” Steve called over the comms, using the nickname you couldn’t seem to shake after Tony had started it in reference to Ellen Ripley and a weekend of Alien movies.

You crouched low, hidden from sight from the men below as you tried to repair your comm and check in. It seemed it was damaged in the fight so you could hear but not respond.

“She was headed toward the south entrance last I saw, Cap,” Hawkeye replied, another arrow flying loose as he continued to fight.

“I’ll scan the building,” Stark flew, dodging a few bullets before blasting the source. He spun, taking a sharp turn. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., scan for Rip’s location.”

Your comm began to cut in and out, static filling your ear until you were met with silence - your comm officially offline. You knew it wouldn’t be long until Stark’s A.I. picked up on your location, so backup was only minutes away. You glanced down at the facility below you, counting seven Hydra agents. You could take them - maybe not without taking some hits, but you could handle it. You clocked each of their locations, and when you saw an agent begin starting a launch sequence you knew you couldn’t wait.

You dropped down, legs wrapping around the closest agents shoulders, the impact enough to knock his gun, and you used the momentum to roll, flipping him hard and knocking him out. You grabbed the gun, shooting two more agents quickly, before dismantling the clip and springing yourself back onto your feet. You hit the ground running, sprinting across the room toward your next victim, dodging left as he aimed and fired. You leaped, using your right foot to richochet off the wall and dropping a fist onto the gunman, the force knocking him out cold.

You had lost the element of surprise, the remaining three agents firing their guns at you. You came alive in the chaos, dropping low and using your leg to sweep the next agent closest to you, his head slamming the concrete as he fell. You rolled over him, pulling him with you and using his body as a shield as the other agents continued to shoot at you.

You used the time they needed to reload to push the body away and get back to your feet. The larger man tossed his gun aside, charging at you before you could get your bearings again - keeping you busy as the last man turned back to the computer, continuing the launch sequence. You were running out of time, and the large man had knocked you off balance, getting a couple of blows in that you knew you’d feel the next day. You threw your arms up, blocking a punch. What he lacked in speed he made up for in sheer size. His large frame dwarfed you. You kicked his stomach, but he had seen it coming, catching the kick and twisting your leg. You rolled with it, bringing your other foot up and connecting with his jaw, landing on your feet once more.

The blow to his head only served to enrage him, and his large hand reached out, gripping you by the neck and slamming you against the brick wall behind you. You winced in pain, gripping his arm and ready to fight back when he was suddenly ripped away from you.

Captain Rogers pulled him back, his fist giving another blow to his head so he dropped to his knees. Steve brought his own knee up, slamming it into the man’s chin and causing his head to snap back before he dropped.

One agent remained. He abandoned his computer station, aiming his gun at Steve and firing back to back shots. Steve held his shield up, deflecting them until there was nothing left. In a swift movement he launched his shield across the room, hitting his target in the chest and knocking him out.

You breathed heavily, your body relaxing as you scanned the room, confirming all targets were eliminated. “I had that, you know,” you said, wiping the blood from your brow.

He discarded his helmet, and when he turned his eyes were cold, his jaw set in anger. “You could have gotten yourself killed,” he snapped. He walked across the room, using his foot to kick his shield up and caught it with ease.

He slammed the shield down onto the computer, destroying any possibility of Hydra’s bomb being launched. He’d call in backup, have them dismantle the bomb and clean up, but for now it seemed the Avenger’s part was was done.

“Well I didn’t get myself killed,” you argued.

He placed his shield on his back and pressed the comm on his ear. “We’re all wrapped up on the south end,” he reported to the team. “I’ve got Ripley.” You bristled at that, frustration rolling through you in waves at the thought of needing to be rescued. He listened before speaking once more. “Stark, send in a cleanup crew. Let’s reconvene at the jet. Signing off.” He pressed his comm once more, shutting it down.

You rolled your eyes at him while taking stock of your injuries. You were banged up, sure, but nothing major.

Steve turned to you once more. “You should have waited for backup.”

You sighed, but still some part of you was grateful that he was getting it out now instead of reprimanding you in front of the entire team. “There was no time. I had it covered,” you snapped.

“Had it covered?” His eyebrows shot up. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be...” He paused and averted his gaze, swallowing his words, not letting himself dwell on the thought.

“God, just say it to my face, Cap!” Your voice rose, all the frustration since hearing his conversation with Nat boiling over. 

He chuckled humorlessly at that, an anger you had never seen directed at you before burning in his eyes. “You were reckless and irresponsible today!” He took a step toward you. “I told you to stick by me today, it was a simple order!” Another step.

You took a step toward him, going toe to toe with your captain as you took your broken comm out of your ear. “Yea, well it sounds like I won’t be your problem much longer anyway. You want to reassign me? Just do it.”

His anger deflated a little, the look in his eyes shifting into concern. Your name fell from his lips, quiet and sincere, almost enough to pull you out of your own rage.

But then his words came roaring back in your head. 

I can’t have her on my team...it compromises things.

You felt so stupid. You slammed your comm against his chest. “You know what, forget it. I quit.”

You turned to walk away, but his hand came up, gripping your own and holding it firmly against his chest. “What are you talking about? You can’t just quit.”

You faced him once more, your eyes burning with tears of frustration. You weren't this person. You didn’t cry on the job, and certainly not in front of your captain. You hated that you let him get under your skin so much. “I thought that was what you wanted?” You said defeatedly. “You think I compromise the team.” He looked hurt, but you pressed forward. “That’s what you told Nat, right?” You tugged your hand free.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he called after you.

You rounded on him, then. “Then what did you mean, Steve? Because I used to think I knew what you meant all the time. Now? Now I’m in the dark. All. The. Time!” The rollercoaster you had been on with him for weeks now left you exhausted. “You can’t do your job while you babysit me, so now you don’t have to!”

“I can’t do my job because I can’t get you out of my head!” He blurted, stealing your breath. The two of you stood in stunned silence, eyes trained on each other, as if you were scared to move from this moment - knowing no matter what your next move was, it changed things.

There was no going back.

“I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself,” his words were quiet. “But I can’t help but worry, because I can’t...” he took a deep breath. “I’ve already lost so much,” he whispered. “I can’t lose you, too.” He took a step closer to you, raising his hand to rub his thumb along the cut on your brow before his eyes dropped to your lips.

Your hand came up to his as he traced it down to your jaw. There was a question in your eyes as they met his. “What are you saying?” You whispered.

His lips parted as he searched your face, when suddenly he dipped, taking you by surprise and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft and unsure, as if even now he was still giving you an out.

He parted, taking a breath before stepping back.

There were no words now, the anger dissipating in the haze. When you made no move he nodded defeatedly, picking up his helmet. He moved past you, his movements slow and deliberate, and you knew he was already searching for a way to apologize, to take it all back.

The thought was enough to spur you into action, calling his name so he turned once more. You launched yourself into his arms, your own wrapping around his neck as you kissed him.

His hands found your waist, pulling you in close and returning your kiss with everything he had been holding back since the moment he laid eyes on you. You were lost in his touch, and when you felt him smile against your lips you pulled back, pressing your foreheads together and trying to steady your breathing.

“While I’m happy to see this is finally a thing,” Stark’s voice called out, causing you both to step back from each other. “Can we get a move on?”

You caught Steve’s blush, and he cleared his throat, nodding as he began making his way toward the rest of the team, the Quinjet waiting outside.

You weren’t sure where this left the two of you, but when he turned and smiled, his hand pressing on the small of your back as he helped you onto the jet first, you knew you were excited to find out.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 5

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, bloodplay, knifeplay, suicidal thoughts.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find yourself trapped.

Note: So I managed to finish this chapter before work really starts to kick my ass. Just letting y’all know, there will be a part 6 but I have an 11 hour day tomorrow and work straight through to wednesday so I’ll probably be exhausted.

That being said, I appreciate y’all reading and your reactions have been the highlight of writing!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You coughed into the blackness. Your awakening was gradual as you waded through the void and slowly broke the surface of consciousness. Your throat was dry and sore and your head swelled with each breath. You reached to touch the tender flesh along your neck, bruised by the rope which had so violently been strung around it. You only recalled the dread of your suffocation before the world turned dark.

As you moved, bright lights flicked on suddenly and you groaned as your eyes watered. You trembled as you pushed yourself up on the bed. The room was small, just big enough for the large bed and the metal chest secured with a heavy padlock. There was a heavy door with a slot and no handle and another smaller door to your left.

You shimmied to the side of the bed and turned your legs over the edge. You slowly turned as the wall behind the bed stood in contrast to the rest of the sterile white room. Every inch around the low frame, from floor to ceiling, was pasted in images and documents. A startling map of your existence.

Pictures of you in the grocery store, at work, on the train or even in your apartment, spanning years back. There were even a few of your dorm room, long forgotten to the haze of your college years. A transcript of your credits and copies of your resume and even pages of the journal you thought only known to you. The one you’d thought you lost in your move from student to adult. And the drawings; just as you remembered, sickening and horrifying.

You stood, unsteadily, and neared the demented collage. There were other pictures; of women who looked like you; crying, screaming, bleeding. You grabbed one and tore it off the wall. You crumpled it up, unable to look at the woman’s dead eyes.

You flinched as the heavy door jolted suddenly and you turned as it opened. You dropped the picture and pressed yourself to the wall as Bucky entered and the door closed behind him. His blue eyes were predatory and intent on you. His right hand twitched as he cleared his throat.

“Sit,” he said softly.

You gaped at him and shook your head. You quaked as you edged over to the corner as if you could hide there.

“Baby girl…” he warned, “Please, don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You grazed your neck with your fingertips and scoffed. The sharp breath scratched your throat and made you wince.

“You made me do that,” he said, “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him. His left hand balled into a fist and he shifted on his feet. Your heart jumped and your lip quivered. Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the wall and neared the bed. You sat sideways against the wall with one leg hanging to the floor. You folded your hands and braced for the unraveling of his wrath.

“Good girl,” he preened. “I just want to talk. That’s all I came for.”

“You’re a murderer,” you rasped, “So just kill me already.”

He smiled and chuckled. He took a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He neared the end of the bed and gripped his hips.

“If that was what I wanted, I wouldn’t have waited so long.” He said. “All you have to do is listen, baby girl. And if you can do that, I will bring you a treat.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you muttered, “You’re disgusting. You’re…” you shook your head as you couldn’t put into words how he made your stomach twist and churn.

He sniffed and took a deep breath.

“Where were you seven years ago? What were you doing?”

“Looks like you already know,” you paused and tried to clear your sore throat. You coughed and pressed your hands to your neck.

“You were just a student, yes?” He shifted on his feet as he spoke, “Innocent, unaware. Running across campus to get to your next class. So clueless you didn’t even notice the man you collided with. Didn’t notice me with that look in my eyes; distant, determined.”

You frowned, confused. You shrugged. You didn’t remember.

“And what did you think when you heard of what happened to the dean?”

Your heart dropped. You remembered that. It was in the headlines for weeks; the mysterious attack on the dean of criminology. It was revealed that he was a former intelligence officer but it could not be linked substantially to the event. He resigned shortly after and as any new cycle, the story washed itself out.

“You--?”

He sighed and his eyes darkened. “What I was… then. What they made me.”

“I don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he hushed you and neared the bed until his legs touched the mattress. “I was their weapon; a machine. My job was death but that day, their weapon failed. Their weapon was distracted and for that the weapon was reforged, honed, beaten down until it was once more sharp enough to use.”

You shook your head in confused, Your fingers curled until your nails cut into your palms.

“Even when they wiped my mind, you remained. The girl who smiled at me without thought; who apologized and asked if I was okay… Who gave me directions to the right building… never knowing… because she thought I was good.”

“I don’t remember. I don’t know you…”

He held up a finger and tapped his lips. You went silent and watched him.

“When I was free, when I found Bucky again, I found you.” He breathed. “And you were the same. Flitting around without a care. And you ran into me again and you apologized, as you had before, and not a second thought to the man who watched you run for the train. To the man who held the door for you the next day or returned to you the card you dropped on the sidewalk. Always just a smile.”

You touched your cheeks. You remembered the card, some forgotten coffee rewards counter you never used. It came clearer then. His gloves hand holding the cardstock, his blue eyes. It was just another random interaction in the chaotic city. But it wasn’t.

“No…” you shook your head, “But why--”

“You see, the people who corrupted me, their control has nothing to do with what I am. It is a part of me. The soldier, Bucky… one does not exist without the other. Bucky fell in love with you, Bucky wanted you, but the soldier… he didn’t how to help Bucky. How to get you. So he found the girls and he tried to figure it out.”

“Stop. Please. I can’t--”

“But even the soldier couldn’t hurt you,” he put one knee on the bed. “Bucky won’t let him.”

As he placed his other knee on the mattress, you turned to get off the bed. He caught your ankle before you could and pulled you down the bed. He climbed over you and straddled you beneath him. You struck out at him and he stopped your hands, gripping your wrists tightly.

“I told you, I won’t hurt you.” He said softly.

“You are hurting me,” you tried to pull away from him and wiggled beneath him.

“I am trying to help you,” he pushed your hands beside your head, pinning them to the bed. “I only want to love you.” He bent over you and his hot breath tickled your lips. “To feel you.”

“Please, you can’t-- I never-- I’m scared, Bucky. Please don’t hurt me.” You begged. “Please…”

His eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. He glared at you and pressed his forehead to yours. He let go of your arms and his hands gripped your head instead.

“Listen. I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled. “But I will if you make me.”

You stared at him, paralysed beneath him. He squeezed your head until it pulsed then pushed himself up suddenly. He climbed off of you, jostling the bed, and scanned the wall of photos. He lowered his chin and nodded.

“Take your clothes off.” He said.

You stayed as you were, stunned and scared. He looked at you slowly and his lips curled.

“Do it or I will.” He warned.

You sat up. You were numb as you skirted to the edge of the bed and pulled your tee over your head. He snatched it from you and you stood to unbutton your jeans. You rolled them down and he took them in turn. You struggled to unhook your bra as you trembled and he spun you sharply. He snapped the clasp and the fabric fell away from your chest. He gathered it up and tore your panties just as easily. He even bent to take your socks as they sat balled on the floor.

You tried to cover yourself as you turned back to him. He marched to the door and stopped. He looked back at you and gritted his teeth.

“Good girl,” he smirked and then turned around and looked above the door. 

A small lens sat above the frame and the door unlocked. He opened it with his foot and sent you one last glance before he pulled it shut. You slumped onto the bed and folded your legs against your chest. There was only the sheet stretched across the mattress and a single pillow. You shivered and hung your head.

You felt the eyes of all the dead women behind you. Felt the weight of their souls. And yet you were horribly alone.

👁️

Shortly after he left you, a tray was slid through the slot in the door. You ignored it at first but your stomach began to ache as the hours dripped by. You took the tray and rested it on the foot of the bed as you sat carefully. You took a long gulp from the bottle of water and the muscles of your neck reminded you of your assault.

The sandwich was cut neatly in half; ham and cheese with mustard. You chewed it without tasting and emptied the cup of applesauce. That was all you could manage and you set the tray in the corner.

The other door, the smaller one, opened up to a small booth. A toilet and sink only. You refused to be thankful for anything but were relieved to have at least that.

You hugged the pillow for much of the time. Your only shield against the cold and your nudity. You dozed off for a little, a shallow, distraught slumber.

You were awoken by the door. You sat up dizzily and stared at the figure as it cleared in your vision. The lights were dimmer as Bucky moved around. He went to the metal chest and opened the lock. You pulled the pillow to you as he closed the lid and plopped a roll atop it.

He turned to you and you cowered as he knelt on the bed. Wordlessly, he pulled on your arm until it bent painfully away from the pillow. You fought with him as he dragged it to the top corner.

“What are you doing?” You whined. “Please, don’t--”

You choked on your voice as he pulled up a leather cuff over the mattress. He wrapped it around your wrist despite your struggles and buckles it.

“Bucky, Bucky, please--”

He hushed you and grabbed your other arm. You kicked you as he forced you onto your back and shook the whole bed as he secured your other wrist. You hit his shoulder with your heel before he grabbed your left ankle and tied in down before he did the same to the right. You were stuck, stretched across the bed, writhing and whimpering as he backed away.

“What--”

“Baby girl,” he tapped his fingers atop the metal chest. “I don’t want to gag you… You have such a pretty mouth.”

You grunted and tugged on your binds. It was pointless. Even if you got loose, there was no way out of this room, no escape from this monster. Your eyes drifted to the wall above you and you closed them against the sight of the tortured women. Would he do the same to you?

You heard a clink and your eyes snapped open. You looked over at the knives that lined the fabric roll and you sobbed. You let out a pathetic squeal that slowly built to a scream.

“Please, please, please!” You shouted. “Don’t do this!”

“Baby girl,” he hummed as he dragged his fingers over the blades. “I told you, you’re safe with me.”

He turned and his eyes roved over your body. He let out a thick breath and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it over his head and let it heap on the floor. His gaze clung to you as he undid his belt and pushed his pants down. He forced his boots off as he stepped out of his jeans and his socks went with them. He undressed methodically, never looking away from you.

You grunted as you tried desperately to free yourself. This animal, this monster, was coming for you.

He went to the chest and slid a knife from the row. You bounced in frustration on the bed and shook your head. No, no, no, this couldn’t happen. His weight caused the bed to dip as he lowered himself between your legs. He looked up at you as he pressed the cold blade to your thigh. You squeaked and bit down.

“You see, if one doesn’t know what they’re doing then it’s difficult to know what cuts will kill and which won’t,” he slithered. “But if they do, they know how much pressure, what angle,” he pushed the point down and you felt it pierce your skin, “where to cut… just for a taste. That’s all.”

He sliced along your thigh, a shallow but painful cut. You cried out and he did the same to your other leg. Your feet arched as your muscles tensed and you pulled against the cuffs.

The warmth of your blood was met by the heat of his mouth. You gasped as lapped at the flow and smeared it over your skin as he edged closer to your cunt. You grasped at air as your fingers curled and uncurled. You let out pathetic noises as he pressed his thumb to the slice along your other thigh.

He purred as he brushed his tongue along your pussy. He pushed carefully between your folds and you gulped. The tingle it sent through you had your heart hammering. He spread his hand over your thigh and his other gripped your hip as his tongue teased you. 

He sucked on your clit as his hand slipped further up. You pushed your head down into the mattress as you felt a storm of hot and cold fill your core. He needed to stop. He had to stop. You couldn’t feel like this. It was wrong. He trapped you, he cut you, and now he was toying with you.

He traced two fingers along the crease of your thighs and pushed against your entrance. You moaned and he dipped them inside slowly. He stretched you around his vibranium digits until his knuckles were pressed to your cunt. He curled his fingers and moved them in time with his tongue.

You bared your teeth as you tried to resist the instinctual response of your body. The way your core pulsed and buzzed without your consent. You whined as he brought you closer and closer to your peak. Between your mewls, one word was clear; ‘no, no, no.” 

You went rigid as the waves rolled over you and your climax overwhelmed your fear. He urged you through it, his fingers working into you quickly as your sighs turned to sobs. He didn’t stop until you were shaking and wincing against his touch.

He raised his head and drew his fingers from inside you. You looked down at him, his beard and nose stained red. Your stomach flipped and your fear spiked once more. He took the knife from beside your leg and backed off the bed. His cock bobbed with each step as he went to the chest and unsheathed another blade.

He returned to you. This time he moved to straddle you as he turned the knife in his hand. He admired the sheen of the metal and poked your lips with the tip. He trailed over your chin and traced the line of your cheek. His blue eyes sparkled as he teased you.

“You’re beautiful…” he breathed, “I could never ruin that face.”

He brought the blade to your neck and lingered on the still tender flesh. He continued on to your chest and circled your nipples. His hand cupped one tit as the knife played with the other. He moved his hips and grinded against you.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. He hovered the knife below your clavicle and turned the tip to your skin. He split the flesh slowly along the centre of your chest, a red line rising between your breast. Again, it was shallow, enough to bleed, enough to make you sick.

He set the knife down on the mattress and his fingers crawled along the incision. Your torn skin stung at his touch and he bent over you. He traced the line with his tongue and lifted his head. He pressed his hot lips to yours and forced his tongue inside. You tasted the metallic taint of your own blood and groaned.

His chest rubbed against your and you felt the warmth as it spread across his skin. His hand felt around as he lifted his pelvis and moved his knee between your legs. He slickened his fingers with your blood and once more began to play with your cunt. You squirmed and tried to turn your head away from him. He bit down on your lip and shoved his fingers inside of you.

“Baby girl,” He drew away, “You’re ready for me.”

“No--” He pulled his fingers out of you and his hand came up to wrap around your neck and he shushed you once more.

His eyes bore into yours as he angled his hips. He shifted as his tip poked along your cunt. He slowly pressed against you until he slipped inside. You grunted and bit down on your lip. You shook your head as his hand grew tighter. He eased into you an inch at a time and your eyes rolled back as he reached his limit.

He sighed as he moved his thighs flush to yours. His heavy breaths filled your ears as he began to rock. He thrust into you carefully, relishing in each long stroke. He hummed as he kept a steady rhythm. You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to resist the burgeoning swell in your core.

He moved fast and pushed himself up, his hand still on your neck, nearly crushing your windpipe. His other hand stretched across the gash on your chest and he slammed into you harder and harder. The clap of his flesh echoed through the room as the blood from your thighs seeped onto his.

The bed quaked beneath your bodies as he pounded into you, his voice rising with each tilt of his hips. Your own breathy moans floated in the air and knotted in your chest.

“Baby girl,” he growled, “Fuck, you feel so good… you taste so good.”

He lifted his hand from your chest and you opened your eyes. He licked your blood from his hand, his left still firmly at your throat.

“You’re gonna look so pretty,” he touched the cut again and played with your blood. His chest was marked with red and it trickled down his muscled stomach as he hammered into you. “This is gonna be a pretty little mark, isn’t it?”

You gnashed your teeth and turned your head. You stared at the blank wall as your thighs tensed against his. You gasped as your orgasm rose violently and your body spasmed.

Bucky let go of your neck and grabbed the knife. Your eyes followed the blade and he pressed it along his chest and cut into his left peck. He stilled as the blood leaked from his flesh and he put the knife aside once more. He coated his fingers in his blood and wiped them across your lips. He forced his way inside your mouth and began to fuck you again.

He lowered himself over you. He slipped his fingers from your mouth and grabbed your chin. He kissed you deeply, tasting the mix of your blood. He pulled away as he began to pant and rutted into you without relent. He snarled and pressed his lips to your cheek.

“You feel that, baby girl,” he rasped, “Hmm, you’re going to make me cum. You want it inside of you?”

“Please--” you whispered.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby girl. Over and over--” He jerked his hips with each word, “And over-- and over--”

He hissed and thrust into as deep as he could. He spasmed and rolled his hips as his cum spilled into you. He slowed and let his weight down onto you. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest and your own beat loudly in your ears.

“Over and over… baby girl,” he murmured and flinched. He slid his arm up under you and slowly moved his hips. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

👁️

You were in a daze when Bucky finally untied you. He left you limp across the bed as he packed up the knives and locked them away. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed with a wet cloth and began to wipe away the blood from your cuts. You winced but only closed your eyes and waited for it to be over.

Your entire body hurt. You lost count of how many times he’d fucked you. He cut you again on your thighs and under your breasts. You were caked in your own blood and sweat. He washed you gently and you let him. You hoped he would go when he finished.

He stood and you heard the heavy lid of the chest again. He returned to you and wiped each cut; the alcohol tickled your nostrils and burned your skin. The bleeding had mostly stopped but he bandaged each carefully. The crumple of wrappers and the tinny clasp of metal. He rose again and the padlock was snapped shut.

“You have to keep yourself clean, baby girl,” he said. “I’ve left some bandages and wipes out for you. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”

You ignored him and rolled onto your side painfully. You shivered and hugged yourself. You’d wait for him to leave before you cried. You listened to him dress. He hadn’t cleaned himself up. Your blood was still smeared over his face.

“Good night, baby girl.” He looked at you for a moment. “Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”

You didn’t answer and just stared at the wall.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” he cooed as his footsteps neared the door, “It’ll take some time… but we both felt how much you liked it.”

The door opened and clunked behind him. Your eyes pricked and you closed them as the tears began to fall. You grabbed the pillow and hugged it as your entire body was wracked with sobs.

You wished he had cut you deeper. You wished he had just killed you. There was no other way out.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

I Put A Spell On You

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Words: 2000+

Summary: It’s Halloween and the Reader decides to tease Sam.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (f! receiving), vaginal fingering, light roleplaying, a smidge of teasing), established relationship, fluff all throughout the fic

a/n: 18+!!! SMUT!!! NO MINORS!!!! One of my favorite movies is Who Framed Roger Rabbit. And Jessica Rabbit is one of my favorite characters, and I liked the idea of the reader dressing in a skimpy Jessica Rabbit costume and sings for her lover and they take her home and fucks her till she can’t walk. I hope you enjoy this fic!!!

Sam walked into the party that Dean dragged him to. It was a Halloween Party, Sam hated Halloween. He had to go to this party for a hunt. Him, Dean, and you were hunting a vampire at a Halloween party. Seemed easy enough. Boy was Sam wrong. 

Sam and Dean walked in and it was filled with people in different costumes. About a hundred different ones. Dean had forced Sam to wear a Roger Rabbit costume, while Dean was a cowboy. Sam was against this whole thing but you had somehow got him to wear it. They looked around the speakeasy-looking bar, trying to find you but they couldn’t.

So they split off and Sam went to the bar while Dean went to find a table. Sam ordered them two drinks and walked over to the table. He sat down with Dean and they drank their drinks waiting for you. Sam felt ridiculous sitting in this stupid costume, well until you came in.

The music turned to a seductive tone. The song was “I Put A Spell On You’ but slower, sexier. The long red curtain parted and you waltz out. You were wearing a very revealing Jessica Rabbit costume. Who Framed Roger Rabbit was the first movie you and Sam watched as a couple. It was your first date. You really hoped he got the reference. A lot of boob tape was involved with this costume. You swayed your hips and started singing.

‘I put a spell on you,

Because you're mine,

You better stop the things you do,

I tell you, I ain't lying,

I ain't lying,

You sang into the mic and made eye contact with Sam. His jaw dropped when you walked out. When you looked at him, he quickly tried to calm himself but then you started singing. 

‘You know I can't stand it,

You're running around,

You know better daddy,

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down,

Oh, no,

I put a spell on you,

Because you're mine,’

You walked downstage, and one of the men helped you off the stage. Your eyes stayed glued to Sam’s hazel eyes. You smirked when you saw him subtly adjust his pants.

‘You know I love you,

I love you,

I love you,

I love you anyhow,

And I don't care,

If you don't want me,

I'm yours right now,

I put a spell on you,

Because you're mine,’ 

You walked towards Sam’s table, swaying your hips to the beat. You felt all eyes on you as you sang. You sat on Sam’s lap as you finished your song.

‘You know I can't stand it,

You're running around,

You know better daddy,

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down,

Ooh-hoo-ooh,

I put a spell on you,

Because you're mine,’

You whispered the last line. Your lips inches away from Sam’s, you pulled away before you two could kiss. You smirked at the disappointed look on his face.

“Hello, Roger.” You purred and caressed his jaw before standing up. You walk back up to the stage as the speakeasy explodes with catcalls and cheers. You set the mic back on the stand and then walked to Sam and Dean’s table. You sat next to Sam and grabbed his drink. 

“Damn, Y/n. I did not know you could sing.” Dean said, and you shrugged and took a sip of the whiskey. 

“I like to keep it under wraps for surprises like this.” You said, and Sam chuckled and took his drink back. “Hey!” You snipped and made grabby hands at his whiskey.

“I’ll get you one,” Sam said, finishing his drink and standing up. He turned to walk to the bar and you pinched his ass. He jumped and slightly turned to you. “Would you stop that?” He huffed and ran a hand through his hair then left to the bar, as you and Dean started laughing. He came back with two glasses of whiskey, he handed you one and sat back down. 

“Thank you, handsome.” You smiled and took a sip. He wrapped his arm around your waist and looked to where Dean was sitting.

“Where did he go?” He asked, and you scanned the room looking for Dean. 

“To talk to the Daphne your 10 o’clock.” You said, gesturing to Dean flirting with the woman dressed in a Daphne costume. 

“He always had a crush on her,” Sam stated, and you chuckled and looked at him. 

“Thank you for wearing the costume I bought.” You smirked, knowing he probably hated the costume. He scoffed and tapped the rabbit ears on his head. 

“Yeah, well it’s kinda growing on me. Especially now that I get to see you in this.” He smirked and pointed to the sparkly red dress you were wearing. 

“I wanted to do a couples’ costume this year.” You said, and pulled him down by his suspenders and kissed him. You two pulled back and Sam looked at all the guys staring at you. He growled low in his throat and glared at them. You chuckled at his jealousy and grabbed his hand. You pulled him to his feet and you two ran out of the speakeasy. “C’mon, Honey Bunny. Let’s go back to our room and play pattycake.” You purred in a seductive voice, and you watched his eyes darkened with lust.

“Let’s go, Love Cup.” He growled, and the two of you ran through the streets towards your motel. 

You stumbled into your room and he spun you two around and pinned you to the door. He kissed you passionately and full of lust. It made your head spin. You pushed him away and smirked at his confused look. You pulled him to the bed and shoved him down, so he was sitting on the edge. 

“I’ll be right back, Honey Bunny. I think you’ll like what I have in store.” You smirked and slipped into the bathroom. You stripped out of your costume and pulled on the new blood-red lingerie you bought for this holiday. It was a lace bodysuit, a pair of stockings, matching red heels, and a large fluffy sheer robe. You took off the wig and fluffed out your natural hair. “I hope you are ready, Honey Bunny.” You smirked and walked to the door. 

“Oh, I am, Love Cup.” He said, and you could hear the lust in his voice. You stepped out of the bathroom, and there he was laying on the bed naked except for the rabbit ears on his head. His jaw clenched when he saw you in that lingerie. “C’mon here.” He growled, and you pulled off your robe and straddled his lap. He pulled you into a rough and needy kiss. He kissed down your jaw and onto your neck. 

“Is someone needy, Bunny?” You asked as he sucked hickeys into her collarbone. 

“Did you see yourself in that costume? I wanted to rip it off and fuck you right there on that table, so everyone knows who you belong to.” Sam growled, nipping and kissing down your chest. 

“Well, how about you fuck me till I scream so everyone in this motel knows who I belong to.” You purred, and he groaned and picked you up. You squealed at the sudden movement and he laid you down on the bed. He kissed you and gripped the straps of your bodysuit. 

“Was this expensive?” He mumbled, against your lips. 

“It’s fine, just fuck me!” You groaned, and he kissed your lips and ripped the straps down. He pulled the shreds of fabric off your body until you were completely naked beside the stockings. He rubbed his hands up and down your nylon-clad thighs and practically drooled at the sight. 

“You’re keeping these.” He said, and you smirked and reached down and stroked him up and down. He moaned and buried his face in your shoulder, as you swiped the pre-cum off the tip of his cock and stroked it up and down his cock. 

“I’ll keep them if you keep the bunny ears.” You countered, and you felt him chuckle into your shoulder. He pulled back and smiled. 

“Deal.” He said, and then kissed down your body towards your soaking core. He nipped and kissed the insides of your thighs, purposely missing where you wanted him. You whined and tried to grind down on his face. He chuckled and finally started licking and sucking on your wet folds. You keened and moved your hips against his face, he used one of his arms to pin your hips down. He started eating you out like it was his last meal. He thrusted two fingers into your quivering hole and curled them up to brush against her g-spot. 

“Sam!” You cried out, as you came on his face and fingers, but he didn’t stop until you squirted on his face. He pulled back his beard soaked with your juices. You watched as he licked and sucked your juices from his fingers. You smiled as he climbed on top of you, he captured your lips in a heated passionate kiss. He threw your legs over his shoulders and lined his cock up with your entrance, and thrusted into you. You moaned and your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as he thrusted slow and hard into you. You moved your legs around his waist and he pinned your wrists to the mattress, as he fucked into you passionately.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart.” He growled and picked up the speed of his thrusts. You keened when his cock brushed over your g-spot. He buried his face in your neck and bit and sucked on your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake. 

“Oh, Honey Bunny! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned, and he piston his hips and thrusted harder into you. That threw you over the edge and you screamed his name, as you came. He helped you through your orgasm, as your walls fluttered around his cock. You clamped down on him as you started to get oversensitive, and it triggered his own high. 

“Oh, god, Y/n!” He yelled and painted your walls with his hot cum. He panted into your neck as he let go of your hands. You ran your fingers through his soft hair as you both came down from your highs. He gently pulled out of you with a hiss and stood up. He grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and gently cleaned your mixed cums from in between your legs. He tossed the washcloth aside and helped you pull off the stockings, kissing up and down your legs. He laid next to you and you immediately cuddled up to his bare chest. 

“Didn’t go to that party for a reason?” You mumbled and looked up at him.

“I’m pretty sure we went for a reason,” Sam said, then your phone went off. You got out of bed on shaky legs and looked for your phone. You saw it on the ground and picked it up. You got back into bed and saw there was a text from Dean. 

“It’s a text from Dean.” You unlocked your phone, “I killed the vamp. Hope you two horny kids didn’t do it on my bed. Cause if you did I’d kill the both of you. Use protection!” You read out loud, and Sam chuckled as you set the phone on the bedside table. You cuddled back up to Sam’s chest.

“Right, we were hunting a vamp.” Sam nodded, and you rolled your eyes as he wrapped arms around you and pulled you closer. 

“I’m too tired to even try to lecture you.” You sighed.

“If I recall you dragged me out of the bar.” 

“Oh, shut it.” You scoffed and shoved his face to the side. He laughed and kissed you on the head. You leaned up and kissed him passionately.

“I love you, Y/n/n/.” He smiled, and you returned it. 

“I love you too, Sammy.” You whispered, and he buried his face in your neck as you two drifted off to sleep. You really did put a spell on him.