#who wants to come to my house and kill me i’ll leave the door unlocked

[beetlejuicesgraveyardrevue]

hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha i would like to die

[imagines4thefandoms]

In Love with the Tats

(This has been in my drafts for a long time)

Warning: Lots of smut

summary: Henry comes home still wearing fake tattoos from his latest movie.

Henry Cavill is a kind and loving man. He is the real-life Superman. And he’s British so he’s automatically very polite and nice to everyone. He looks like an actual bear with all those muscles but he’s really just a giant teddy bear who requires cuddles to function. He usually plays good guys in the movies cause it's who he is. 

Which is why the world lost its mind when Mission Impossible: Fallout came out. Henry “king of nerds” Cavill was a bad guy. Seeing him betray, hurt, and kill was out of pocket and extremely hot. And you were not expecting it. When you started dating you told him not to give you any spoilers from his movies. You wanted to get the whole experience when you saw it at the premiere. Sometimes it backfired like in Dawn of Justice when Superman died, and you were caught off guard but he brought you tissues cause he knew you needed them. And when you got married that promise was in your vows. Maybe cause you told him you would divorce him if he spoiled anything for you. 

So when you watched your husband who can’t hurt a fly try and destroy the world and kill millions, you got turned on. Seeing a darker side of him was very attractive. And every girl can tell you how villains are a lot more attractive than heroes. So when you got home from the premiere you jumped his bones. And for the next 24 hours, you two rarely left the bed for longer than 5 minutes. The phrase fucking like rabbits could have legally changed to fucking like Cavill’s. 

After that when he would look over scripts his agent sent him, you would help him and pick out the role you liked (spoiler if he played the bad guy you liked it). He auditioned for the roles you liked cause he could never say no to you and you would never steer him wrong. And he got the role. You did your civic duty to the world and Henry Cavill was going to be a bad guy again on the silver screen. 

And now while he’s filming you spend all day with your favorite Cavill, Kal. You had gotten a text from your husband saying filming was running late and he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner which didn’t bother you at all. You made a simple pasta dinner and left it on the table cause you didn’t want to eat without him. Usually, when he runs late he gets home around 10 or 11 instead of 6 and you had a big lunch with friends so you didn’t mind waiting. While you waited for him to come home you and Kal sat on the couch watching The Office (American edition). It was the episode with Asian Jim so you were dying laughing over Dwight's reaction. Suddenly the front door opened and you felt a kiss on the top of your head, cause you were too busy to look over at who walked in the house. Though you knew it was Henry. 

“I could have been a robber,” he lightly scorned seeing as the front door was unlocked.

“Well then the robber could finish the episode with me and then take our things,” you teased still not looking at him. 

“You are a pain, love,” he said taking off his jacket and locking the front door. 

Kal, your nice warm cuddle buddy, jumped off the couch and ran to Henry excited that he was home. You turned to scorn your husband for causing your furnace to leave when you took in his appearance. 

“What is that,” you asked him noticing how he was covered in tattoos. Like COVERED. His neck, both arms and his knuckles had ink. 

“I didn’t want to keep the makeup artist there any longer and I told them to leave them til tomorrow,” he explained rubbing behind Kal’s ear. 

When he was met with silence he looked over at you and noticed you were staring. He immediately thought you were turned off. 

“I’ll try to get us to wrap earlier tomorrow so they have time to take it off,” he says grabbing Kal’s leash to take him on a walk. 

“You don’t have to,” you said staring at the tattoo on his neck and biting your lip. 

It suddenly clicked in his mind that you were very much turned on. He smirked at your reaction and bent over to whisper in your ear. 

“I'm going to walk Kal and when I get back I'll show you the rest of them.”

“There’s more,” you gasped finally bringing yourself to look him in the eye. 

He simply replied with a nod and walked back out of the house to walk the dog. Henry might have been gone for only 10 minutes but seeing how you were suddenly very hot and bothered it felt like hours. You were too antsy to move from your spot on the couch and could not for the life of you pay attention to the antics of Jim and Dwight. When Henry finally came back, he sent Kal to lie down in his bed in the living room and threw you over his shoulders to bring you to the bedroom. 

“You are not helping my situation,” you cried out as he threw you on the bed. 

“I'm not in a helping mood,” he replied taking off his shirt. 

His chest was covered in tattoos and scars. There was no bare centimeter of skin. You got on your knees and slowly ran your hand over the art. When you reached his navel he turned around and showed you the back. There was a cross with a rose intertwined with it and blood dripping from the stem. You turned him back around and placed one hand over the skill on his chest and your other hand covered the flames on his neck and brought him down to you for a very firm kiss. His hands went to your waist and he laid you down hovering over you. As soon as you got your legs out from under you they went around his waist to bring him closer to you. The kiss got very heated and sloppy. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck. Your hands alternated between gripping his hair and scratching his back. 

He pulled himself from you and removed the shirt you were wearing leaving your chest bare. He kissed your nose then your lips then your neck and kept traveling til he was right above your shorts. You whined as he slowly took off your shorts and peppered your hips with kisses. When he finally took your shorts off he kissed the inside of your ankle and slowly went up til his nose brushed against your very wet cunt. 

“Hen, please,” you cried as he just kept kissing your inner thigh and letting his mouth hover so close but so far from when you needed him. 

“Where do you need me,” he asked bringing his face back up to yours and staring into your eyes. “Here,” he asked placing a kiss on your neck. You shook your head no. “here,” he asked kissing between your breasts. 

“No,” you cried wiggling beneath him. 

His hands gripped your hips causing your movements to cease and his lips brushed over your right nipple. “Here?” You again shook your head no. and he did the same to your left nipple. He asked the same question and got the same answer. He continued to kiss down your body, your stomach, hips, knee, and ankle but still wouldn’t touch you where you needed him. 

“If you don’t hurry up or I’m going to do it myself,” you cried out. 

“No, you’re not. You are mine, your kisses are mine. Your tears are mine. Your whimpers, moans, and pleas are mine. And for damn sure your orgasms are mine. No one, no toy, not even these beautiful fingers can bring you the pleasure I can,” he said kissing the tip of all ten of your fingers. “They can’t fill you or stretch you the way I can. You will forever be unsatisfied, empty, and cold without my fingers, mouth, and cock to fill you and keep you warm.”

His mouth finally hovered over where you needed him. He could see and smell how turned on you were but still hesitated to do anything about it. “Say it. Say no one can fuck you like I can. Tell me you are mine,” he said staring at you. 

You wiggled and cried and gasped at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. You tried to close your leg to get a little morsel of relief but his hands gripped your thighs and forced them open. 

“Say it,” he said again this time deliberately blowing directly on your clit. 

“Fuck. I’m yours only yours. No one can ever fuck me as good as you do,” you cried trying to close your legs again but not moving them an inch. “Please Hen I can’t take it.”

“Good girl. I’ve got you just relax,” he said before attaching his mouth to your aching cunt and eating you out like a starved man. 

His tongue traveled from your clit to your vagina and back again. He started sucking on your clit but his eyes never left your face. He watched as your eyes closed and face contorted with pleasure. Your hands gripped his hair and you were either trying to pull him away or pushing him in more you didn’t know but a groan left his throat causing you to fall over the edge and cum in his mouth. 

He lapped up the juices and sat back and just admired the mess between your legs. He used his fingers to spread you open so he could get a closer look. He spits in your very exposed cunt and then goes back to eating you like you were a whole meal at a 5-star restaurant. You cried and screamed his name when his teeth gently grazed over your clit. Before you could even come down from your first orgasm the second one hit like a ton of bricks. Your hips lifted off the bed and you screamed his name but he still wasn’t done. When your legs stopped shaking he finally removed his mouth and bruised your lips with a kiss. You let out a moan when you tasted yourself on his lips. 

You opened your eyes and noticed his were filled with a lustful/predatory look. He gently pressed kisses on your nose and lips causing you to laugh. His hand traveled from your neck to your left breast then down til his fingers stopped between your legs. 

“I'm not done with you princess, that was just my mouth. We still have my fingers,” he said pressing two into you without warning causing you to gasp. “And my cock,” he said placing a small kiss on your neck. 

“Fuck Hen,” you cried turning your head away from him. 

“On no princess, I said those are mine. You are going to look in my eyes as you come undone on just my fingers,” he said turning your head towards him.

You couldn’t say a word so you just nodded as your response. He thrust his finger in and out of you so slowly that it was almost painful. “Faster please,” you whined running your hands through his hair and bringing his lips against you. 

“Too impatient, you that much of a whore you can’t wait to drench my finger,” he asked picking up his speed. 

“Oh yes,” you said both at the new pace and his words.

“Yes, what,” he asked pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. “Fuck you taste exquisite.”

You whined at the now empty feeling seeing as you were so close to cumming again. “Yes, I'm your whore please.”

Satisfied with your answer he plunged his fingers into your agains and was fucking you with such a brutal pace that tears fell from your eyes. “That’s my good girl. You're doing so well for me. You're taking my fingers so well, should we add another,” he asked rubbing your clit with his fingers. 

“Yes, Daddy please.”

He inserted another finger and stretched you out. Henry stroked your face when he saw you wince in pain. 

“It's okay baby, Your pussy was made for me. I can feel you gripping my fingers. Do you wanna cum,” he asked kissing your ear. 

“Please,” you whined. 

“Let go, Daddy’s got you,” he whispered. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

The knot in your stomach broke and a wave of ecstasy filled every atom of your body. His finger still fucked you through through your intense orgasm. When you came down he once again removed his fingers. He brought them to your lips and gave them a little tap. 

“Clean my fingers, taste how sweet you taste,” he said looking at you. 

You sucked your cum off his fingers like there was no tomorrow while your eyes never left his. Once you were done he removed his fingers from your mouth and got off the bed to remove his jeans. Out of instinct, you got on your knees in front of him. He unbuckled his pants and pulled both his jeans and boxers down. You were about to take him in your mouth when you noticed more tattoos on his hips and all over his legs. 

Your fingers traced the dragon that covered his entire right leg. From his ankle to his hip. On his left thigh was a wolf’s head with trees around it like it was a forest. Henry let out a growl seeing as were were quite literally leaving him hanging. 

“It's not fun is it,” you retorted letting him think your were punished him for leaving you high and dry earlier. 

“Either you take my cock in your mouth now or I shove it down your throat and fuck you so hard you can’t speak,” he threatened gripping your throat and forcing you to look up. 

You pressed your legs at the thought of him fucking your mouth with such force. He noticed you squirm and he laughed. “You want that, don’t you. You want to wake up tomorrow with a sore throat and remember how I used you for the slut you are.”

You nodded your head and his hands gripped your head and he just stared into your eyes. “Then open up,” he said before he shoved his dick down your throat causing you to gag. Once the shock was over you tried to suck the soul out of him. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as your nails dug into his thighs.

He kept fucking your mouth and made sure that every inch was in. He brought your face to the base of his cock then pulled out completely to give you a breath. His thump traced your lips and pushed the drool from your chin back into your mouth. “My beautiful wife.” Your mouth fell open waiting for him to shove his cock back down your throat. Henry let out a laugh before giving you what you wanted. The pace he was going was brutal but beautiful at the same time. 

You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure at the feeling of your mouth. The sound of his balls slapping your chin filled your ears making your legs squeeze together. Henry’s hands cradled your face as he forced his cock as far down your throat as he could reach and he just held you there. When your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of him he quickly pulled himself out. 

“If I’m going to cum anywhere,” he said pulling you to him, “it’s going to be in this pussy.”

Henry’s hand stroked you clit one more time before he gently pushed you down on the bed. You tried to scoot up to the pillows but, Henry grabbed your ankles and dragged you back down til your ass was almost off the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your nose before plunging deep into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck,” you yelled dragging your nails down his back. 

Henry pounded into you at an alarming pace causing you to slowly move up the bed. “I'm gonna,” you yelled before his lips attacked yours. The orgasm ripped through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably and your bones felt like mush. But Henry didn’t stop. His pace was speeding up like he was chasing his own pleasure. 

“I can’t,” you cried moving your head side to side. 

“Yes, you can baby. Just one more,” he said kissing your shoulder. “I'm almost there, you’re doing such a good job.”

Your head is still shaking from the overstimulation. His hands went from your waist to your painfully throbbing clit. “Please,” you cried when he roughly pinched it. He ignored your cries and just focused on your clit. You tried moving away but his other hand moved to your throat. “I know baby. But I know you have one more. Please I need you,” he pleaded as his strokes slowed down. You slowly nodded your head and he forcefully kissed you again. He removed his hand from your throat and went back to your thigh. Henry gave you a little squeeze before moving your legs over his shoulders. 

At this angle, you could swear you felt more of him. He slammed into you over and over again. “Cum with me baby,” he said bending you practically if half so he could kiss you. His movements stopped and his head fell to your shoulder as he came. “Fuck,” he yelled once he emptied his entire load. He stayed in you for a minute to catch his breath. 

“I love you,” he said whipping the sweat off your brow. 

You winced when he slowly removed himself. “I love you too,” you said when he walked into the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he ran the warm cloth over your abused cunt you flenched in pain. “Fuck, did I hurt you,” he asked kissing your knee. You shook your head and pulled him up to you. “Just very sore. Can you just hold me,” you asked.

He rolled off you and laid on his back with his arm extended waiting for you to move at your own pace. While your head rested on his chest, he rubbed small circles on your lower back. 

“So you want me to keep these tomorrow too,” he asked mumbling into your hair. You let out a laugh and slapped his stomach. “God no, I can’t survive another night like this tomorrow,” you said moving to look up at him. “But definitely next week,” you said with a smile.

[starsofang]

141 and how they help you

tf141 helping you out due to you having a late/absent parent who wasn’t around to teach you

Ghost, who helps you with anything maintenance related around your house. Broken faucet? Shower not working? He comes by the moment you call, bringing along a set of tools. He shows you each and every one, explaining their purpose. He teaches you how to fix things on your own for whenever he’s not around, but if he is around? He doesn’t want you lifting a finger and expresses his displeasure when he hears about you attempting to fix a broken doorknob on your own.

He’ll grunt in disapproval if he sees you accidentally cut your finger or made whatever’s broken worse, shaking his head and gently pushing you aside to work on it himself.

“Don’t mind teachin’ you how to fix things, love, but I’m goin’ to be the only one doin’ it for you when I’m here, understood?”

Price, who helps you when you’re having car troubles. Doesn’t matter if it’s something small like an oil change, or something big like a broken part. He loves it when you call him, and he never fails to show up right away when you need it.

He doesn’t teach you like Ghost does, and that’s strictly because he wants to be the only one to do it. If he teaches you how to fix it on your own, you won’t need him around anymore to help, and he can’t have that. He certainly won’t let you go to the mechanic, either. Besides, he prefers it this way whenever you come out in the middle of him working on your car with a cold bottle of water and that lovely smile of yours as you thank him for helping you out.

“S’never a problem, love. Better to call me than a mechanic, aye? Got you a nice view, too.”

Gaz, who loves to help you with anything you’re unsure about. Pumping air in your tires at the gas station? Don’t worry, he’ll show you. Oh no, there’s a bug in your house and you’re too scared to kill it? He’s already on his way, leave the door unlocked! Doesn’t matter if he’s halfway across town, he’ll drop whatever it is he’s doing to drive all the way to your place because he can’t have you dealing with it by yourself.

They may be minuscule things you need help with, but he doesn’t care about that. He’s happy to answer your call and be there as soon as possible no matter the request or how silly you think it is.

“You’re not being a burden to me, sweetheart, I’d love to help. I’ll swing around and be there in five, yeah?”

Soap, who loves to teach you about tech savvy things. He knows you’re not the most knowledgeable when it comes to important things like your taxes, but don’t fret, he’ll file them for you as long as you sit with him and watch! He’ll even help you apply for credit cards because he knows you don’t have one, and he doesn’t want you to worry about finances, not when he’s around.

Or if your computer is acting up? Maybe it’s laggy, or pop-ups keep showing up on your screen. No need, he’ll sit for hours if he has to just to ensure that your laptop is safe and secure. Bonus points if he can’t fix it and he buys you a new laptop instead.

“Dinnae worry ‘bout payin’ me back, lass/lad. Ye needed a new one anyway.”

—

had to learn how to pump the air in my tires by myself today bc i don’t have my dad to do it, my boyfriend lives out of state, and had the thought of “man i wish a dude were here to do this for me” which is how this popped up in my head bc 141 would never let me pump my tires alone </3

[satorusugurugurl]

Return to Me

Summary: When the blood and death of The Shibuya Incident are avoided, a reincarnated Fushiguro Toji has one goal in mind: to make it home to his late wife.

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warning: language, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, wall smex

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N Kinktober Day Two: Reincarnation! Toji, come find me. I’ll give you that Gluck-gluck 9000!! 😩

Toji couldn’t remember a lot, But he could remember his death. He had been assigned to kill the star plasma vessel and would have been greatly rewarded for it. While doing his job, he attempted to kill Gojo Satoru. He underestimated him, believing that he had gotten away with killing the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, much to his disbelief. He had not anticipated the seventeen-year-old being able to use the reverse curse technique. Healing himself while simultaneously unlocking his true power.

That same boy had killed Toji. He left behind his son and you, his wife, who would surely think he had run out on you.

If only he had a chance to take the time to explain what had truly happened. He had never intended to run out on you. He just met his untimely end; sometimes, the odds weren’t always in people's favor.

But fate seemed to give him another chance. He had been channeled into someone else’s body who had lost a battle against his soul. Some old hag demanded that he kill all the sorcerers. But when he had killed the old bitch, several veils that had been dropped around Shibuya were lifted. It seems as though whatever malicious plan they had must have been throttled.

Toji had an urge to find the strongest opponents to fight, but that urge died down as peace fell upon the city. Instead, another urge, a strong desire, overwhelmed him. He needed to find you.

With that singular thought, Toji was off, searching for you. Much to his relief, it didn’t take long to find you. You were still at the same house, the small garden in the front thriving with life. Life that he had been drawn to like a moth to the flame.

He approached the house with caution, peeking through the entry window. It looked the same, and he only spotted one pair of shoes, which hopefully meant you were alone. Not wanting to wait any longer, Toji knocked on the door as a clap of thunder sounded above him.

You blinked over your shoulder as you stirred into your teeth. Who could be knocking on your door this late? You weren’t expecting company, so with a sigh of half an annoyance at the prospect of being your neighbor and boredom; you moved across the floor. Nursing your mug at the door, you looked through the entry window and saw a tall man standing right in front of your door.

You cocked, a brow cracking the door open chest an inch, leaving the chain lock fastened securely. “Can I help you?” The stranger seemed to shiver as rain began pouring down. “Are you okay?” You asked, watching as he stepped closer to the door.

“Hey, Doll.”

Doll, the voice, the silhouette, it couldn’t be him! But as lightning flashed across the sky above, you saw his face, your late husband's face. The mug fell out of your hand, ceramic shattering as hot tea spread across the wooden floor, but you didn’t care. You were more concerned with throwing open the door. You wasted no time, stepping in, catching you, as you threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he slammed you against the nearest wall, kissing you with such force And needing your breath away.

“How?! How the fuck are you here?!” You guessed out as he hugged at the white sweater he wore. “Toji—”

“I always told you I’d find you,” he growled against your lips as he helped you out of your sweats. “I don’t go back on my word.” His lips over your collarbone as he pulled down his pants, his already hard cock leaking pre-cum was teasing your pussy, rubbing the weeping head over your slick folds before the slit caught against your clit. The sensation drew out a gas from you. “Fuck you still feel so good, Doll.”

“I missed you.” You moaned out as you fought against the sobs and tears that threatened to flow down your flushed cheeks. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“I don’t plan on leaving you for a very long time.” His teeth grazed over your sensitive skin as he dragged the head of his cock down to your tight entrance. “So let me make up for you all those years ago.”

“Please.” Your pleading was the only confirmation needed before he pushed inside of you with a hiss. “Hnngh!” as he stretched you in a way your toys and fingers could never compare to.

He moved to bury his face in the crook of your neck as he painted heavily. The feeling of being inside of your cunt again, hearing your moans, feeling your nails dragging down his bare back was a feeling he never wanted to forget. That’s how you both stood for a second, reveling in being joined again. A feeling you never thought you would get to experience again.

“Fuck—you’re so tight.” to voice was hot against your neck as you guessed out does he buck his hips forward inside of you. “So goddamn tight.”

“Fuck!” You cried out gentle thrusts, turned into harder ones. His cock hit the deep part of you, making your legs tremble with each drag of his thick length inside of you. “God, I missed you!”

“Yeah? You missed me, missed me and my fat thick cock?”

“Yes! You’re the best I’ve ever had, Toji!”

Pride swelled in his chest at your words, which only made him more eager to please you. He wanted to make up for all those times he had missed. Toji would pull all the way out of you before slamming back inside of you. Each thrust would brush against that sensitive, spongy spot inside of you before hitting your cervix with a force so hard your breath was stolen from your lungs.

You cried out, tilting your head back. “Ahnngh!” Your bones and the sound of your skin slapping me against my skin didn’t defend the sound of the pictures on your wall; shaking, falling to the ground, glass shattering your world, had shattered the second. Your husband came back to you. “T-Toji!”

The breathless tone of your voice and the feeling of your warm, wet walls hugging his thick length left Toji in pure bliss. He knew this was where he was meant to be. Right here with you, feeling you, tasting you. Toji didn’t want this to end; he wouldn’t let it end. His lips yours again, and a kiss that was staring, his tongue, forcing its way into your mouth, which you gladly welcome.

“Mhmm~!!” Moaned, gripping his shoulders as you roll your hips slowly against his. Squeezing around him until he shivered, breaking the kiss. “T-Toji, I-I’m—”

“I know.” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Me too.”

Knowing you both were so close to that sweet release, your movements lost the familiar rhythm, replacing them with crazed lust and undying need. You clenched harder around him as he fucked into you harder, faster, desperate not to finish before you. But fuck, it was so hard; however, luckily for Toji, he knew your body, his wife’s body, even after all of these years apart.

He reached down, rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles. That was the final push you needed to send you into sweet orgasmic bliss. You screamed, gripping your husband growling like a wild animal as he lost himself in the feeling of you. And the way you came around him. The tight contractions and the way you screamed his name had ropes of cum shooting out your walls with his seed.

Wide eyes rolled back into your head at the familiar sensation you had missed. Decide, shivering as the book of his hips slowed until he was settled deep inside of you, his length softening as you both breathed heavily. It was only when you could no longer hear the pounding of your own heart in your ears that you pulled away your index fingers, slowly running down the scar on his lips.

Toji leaned into your touch, exhaling softly. “I’m home,” he announced as if he had just returned from a long trip. And on that rainy October evening to grind, kissing away a tear that streamed down your cheek.

“Welcome home.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

[bad268]

Pezzy with a cuddly (almost to the point of being clingy) reader?? (Love your blog & your writing so much! Keep it up!!)

End the Stream (Pezzy X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous

Requested: Clearly (I love him and thank you so much <3)

Warnings: Language lol

POV: First Person (I/me)

W.C. 1193

Summary: No one ever said being clingy was a bad thing.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

I would never consider myself super clingy, but sometimes, I just wanted to be held. It was only natural, especially when my boyfriend was streaming for hours. I just wanted to hang out with him, and I felt like I had not seen him recently.

Yesterday, he was streaming all day. Granted, he just got a new computer, and he was preparing for Puffer’s season 2 of The Gauntlet. I remember back when he won the first week of season 1, and it took about 3 hours. Then, the finale took almost 9 hours! I was not prepared for this to happen again.

He had already been streaming for going on 5 hours, and watching the stream could only do so much to fill the void. I knew he was in the same house. Hell, he was just a room over, but I felt lonely without him. 

I decided enough was enough. If I wanted attention, I was gonna get it. Before I set my plan in motion, I opened up the chat and sent a quick message, just to see if he was watching the chat.

“Is your room unlocked?” The text-to-speech read, and Pezzy, at first, looked horrified. He paused the game to look at who sent that but smiled when he saw it was me.

“Oh, yeah, it’s open if you wanna come in here,” He let out a breath, “I thought that was a stalker or something.”

I chuckled as I got up from the bed. I wrapped my throw blanket around my shoulders before walking down the hall to Pezzy’s recording room. I dramatically pushed the door open, just standing in the door ominously until he turned around.  When he did, he almost jumped out of his seat.

“What the hell are you doing?” He shouted in shock as he put a hand on his heart as if to slow his rapid heart rate. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Just keeping you on your toes,” I chuckled lightly as I walked over to him. When I made it to his setup, I asked, “Is this seat taken?”

“What mine?” He asked, but he didn’t wait long as I just sat in his lap. He chuckled before wrapping his arms around me and setting his chin on my shoulder.  “Well, now it is. Is this comfortable for you?”

“Very,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his torso and leaned my head against his chest. I looked up at him and met his eyes. “Can I sleep here? I won’t bother you, I promise.”

“You could never bother me,” He whispered back, leaving a kiss on my forehead, nose, cheeks, and finally, my lips before moving one of his hands from my waist to the back of my head. “I’ll be here when you wake up, and I’ll try not to be too loud.”

“I don’t care,” I mumbled, rubbing my face into his chest, “I’ll sleep through anything.”

“I know you will,” He chuckled lightly, kissing the crown of my head before turning his attention to the screen again. The chat was flying by, clips were being made, and his friends and moderators were calling him a simp. A couple specifically caught his eye. “Call me a simp one more time, Puffer, and I’ll call Megan. Grizzy, Droid, shut the fuck up. At least I get some you virgin ass mother fuckers.”

I could not keep a straight face at that as I burst out laughing. I sat up a little, opting to just lean my head against his shoulder as I looked at the screen with him. I glanced over to Discord, and I saw Puffer, Grizzy, and Droid show as active in their chat, so I moved to unplug Pezzy’s headphones before they could join the voice channel.

“Who the fuck are you talking about? I have never once been a simp,” Puffer shouted immediately after joining the call. 

“I beg to differ, Puffer,” I dragged out with a smirk, “You forget that I talk with Megan all the time, and I get to hear all of the relationship gossip. I have the tea and blackmail. Don’t make me pull it out.”

“Bitch,” He muttered.

“I try,” I smirked again before turning my attention to the other two. “Okay, Grizzy, Droid, do you two have anything to comment?”

“After hearing that, no I’ll keep my comments to myself,” Grizzy chuckled nervously. 

“Good, don’t test them,” Pezzy chuckled as he held onto me tighter and kissed my shoulder. 

“On that note, I’m making Pezzy get off,” I said as I leaned forward and took the mouse in my hand going over to the end stream button. “5 hours is enough for you heathens. He’s not streaming tomorrow, and don’t be surprised if he doesn't stream the day after.”

“Why’s that?” Pezzy teased for clarification.

“I miss you, and I want attention sometimes,” I said immediately. “I deserve time with you too.  Is it bad to want to spend time with my boyfriend doing relationship things?” 

“Not really, I get it,” Pezzy relented, “I miss you too if that makes you feel better.”

“I’m sorry, y’all lonely bitches want Pezzy all the time, but I gotta put me first,” I joked, “I gotta put me first.”

“And just for that, I’ll end the stream,” Pezzy laughed loudly as he took the mouse from my hands and ended the stream. “Happy now?”

“Not yet,” I admitted as I turned in his lap to face him. “I just want to stay here in your arms. I’ve missed you, and I feel like you’ve been streaming nonstop.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” He comforted as he brushed some hair away from my face. “Tomorrow, we’re doing anything you want. Name it.”

“But I don't want to do anything,” I whined as I banged my head on his shoulder. “I just want to lay in bed and do nothing. Maybe we make cupcakes or something. Maybe we take a bath together. Maybe we can go for a short bike ride. I don’t know, but I know I don't want to plan anything. Then, I won’t want to do it.”

“Okay, we can play it by year, how about that?” Pezzy offered as he held back a laugh. “We can just see where the day takes us.”

“Now I only get a day? I want at least two days, nothing less,” I snapped my head up as I pointed a finger at him. 

“Deal, two days,” Pezzy settled as he moved his hands to be under your butt, lifting you up.

“Where are we going?” I asked quickly in shock as I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, not expecting to be lifted.

“Timbuktu,” Pezzy replied sarcastically, glaring at you, before lifting his expression, “Our bedroom. Where the fuck else?”

“Wow,” I dragged out as Pexxy walked out of his recording studio and into our room. He set me gently on our bed before leaning over me, giving me a kiss. I moved a hand to his chest as I gently pushed him away. “Take me to dinner first.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[bisexualbellamyblake]

a quiet undoing

buddie - post-808 coda - read on ao3

“Eddie’s moving to Texas.”

Maddie blinks at Buck, processing his words. It’s barely a second before her head tilts, and her eyebrows draw in, and she’s looking at him like he’s six again, like he’s fallen from his bike and all she wants to do is patch him up.

Protect him from the world.

“Oh, Buck,” she says, soft like she’s worried he’s fragile, like he might break, and maybe he will, because he doesn’t even remember it, driving to her house.

It’s all a blur.

Going to Eddie’s with a basket of baked goods.

Using his key and feeling that quiet thrill in his chest at the click of the front door unlocking.

Teasing Eddie about whatever he was looking at.

And then, being hit with something that Buck never imagined he would be. The prospect of Eddie leaving LA.

Of leaving him.

“I don’t — I’m not sure why I’m here,” Buck says, voice feeling tight with a fresh wave of tears. The first lot came when he was sitting on Eddie’s couch, when Eddie was no longer watching him and he allowed himself a moment not to pretend. They’re harder to swallow down this time. “I just got in my car and somehow ended up here.”

“That’s okay,” Maddie says, reaching out to put a hand on his arm, coaxing him inside. “I’m glad you came.”

She leads them to her couch, and Buck sits down, trying not to think about Eddie’s couch.

How many times has he sat there with Eddie? With Chris?

How many times has he slept there?

How many of Buck’s memories have been born on Eddie’s couch?

And now, he’s just spent an hour there on a call with a real estate agent, trying not to be anything but supportive as Eddie asked about different properties in fucking Texas.

Because how could he be?

Eddie misses Chris more than anything in the world.

He needs to be with him.

Buck understands, even if it feels like his own heart has been carved out of his chest.

“He wants to be with Chris,” Buck says, he’s not sure how long later. Time doesn’t feel like it’s moving quite like normal. “He’s looking at houses. I don’t understand why he doesn’t just fly there and bring him home. This is his home, Maddie, not Texas.”

“Buck…”

“I know, I’m not — I would never say this to him, don’t worry. I’ll let him go, even if it kills me. Even if I…”

The words get caught in his throat, and god, it’s love that’s strangling him right now, he knows it.

Another thing he can always associate with Eddie’s couch.

His eyes burn, and his chest feels cracked open, and it’s as Maddie’s pulling him in for a hug that he finally breaks. Tears hot on his cheeks, half-formed breaths shuddering out of him, his entire being — body and soul — aching with grief.

He’s always been an easy crier, always felt things too hard, too much, but he can’t recall the last time it felt this overwhelming.

Not when Tommy broke up with him.

Not when he was coming to terms with his own death — three minutes and seventeen seconds.

Not even when Maddie left, as much as it killed him.

It was probably when Eddie was shot. When Buck broke down in front of Chris.

Now, it’s Maddie who holds onto him as he sobs, murmuring soft words he can’t quite process as his body shakes with sorrow, as he tries to come to terms with the reality of yet another person he loves leaving him.

It’s minutes, or maybe hours, until he’s wrung dry, until the tears have stopped and his face feels tight and sticky and his heart continues its confused, worried beat within his chest: how will we go on?

Buck doesn’t know.

But he wipes at his eyes, and takes a slow breath, and this is what he does know:

He’s in love with Eddie.

And it’s because of that love, that he’ll let him go.

[underground-secret]

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

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

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

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

Word Count: …14,005

Scarecrow

(Master List, Prev. Chapter, Next Chapter)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She sighs, “I’m worried about you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.” Dean nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sam.” Dean warns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, dear friends,” I answered.

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would I say sorry?” he counters.

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

“I think it’d kill us either way”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice tat indeed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sundown.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah we’re sure” The girl insists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Thinking the same,” He answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles, “ ‘Night baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t ask.” Dean responds.

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

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

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

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

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

“God no” I scuff.

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

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

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

“What makes you say that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam laughs, “What do you mean issue?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“Call me when you find Dad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I, uh–I stole a car.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I think you’re stuck with me.”

“What made you change your mind?”

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

[imthebestgirl]

Earth42!Miles Morales x FAB!Reader

DO NOT STEAL OR TRANSLATE MY WORK AT ALL.

Warnings! smutty (aged up miles and reader he is not a minor!!) black reader! pet names: mami, ma, beautiful, sweetheart, baby, etc. some degrading

Synopsis: Miles notices you aren’t home after a heated argument over text. He calls you to ask where you are but you don’t answer. This leads to his search and his punishments.

1:42 PM

Mami😍: Miles where you at???

4LIFER💍: Out.

Mami😍: Wym out ive been searching for you everywhere 🤨

4LIFER💍: why you worrying where I’m at mind your business that’s where I’m at stop texting me.

Mami😍: okay it’s gon be the same shit when you ask me where I’m at.

4LIFER💍: i want you to say that to my face 😂

Mami😍: okay don’t bother asking where I’m at when I’m gone 😚.

4LIFER💍: don’t worry ma I’ll know where you at.

“Mami😍 has phone on do not disturb”

——————————————

7:30 PM

Y/N’s POV

As I pulled up my skimpy dress over my thighs I heard a soft ding coming from my phone on the bed. Walking over to my bed to check who it was from it read..

MaKayKay😇: GIRLLL YOU READY??

Y/N😈💜: wait ugly im almost done 😒😞

MaKayKay😇: HURRY DAT ASS UP

—————————

8:25 PM

Miles POV

As I was getting ready to leave the stressful world of being “The Prowler” I was thinking about how I was gonna make up my rude tone in my texts with a nice old fashion loving. I get a notification from Instagram..

“ERRYBODYENVYZY/N posted!

As I watched the 3 videos that Y/N posted. I stood, stared stopping in my tracks because I knew I told her to stay at home knowing that there’s usually criminals at this time of night.

Opening my messages, I go to her number to scold her about leaving the house to go “party” outside AT NIGHT with her so called friends who obviously don’t have self respect.

—————————

4LIFER💍: Y/N bring yo ass home NOW.

4LIFER💍: Y/N I’m not gonna tell you again.

4LIFER💍: okay dont let me find you..

Mami😍: she busy rn.

Mami😍 has phone on do not disturb

—————————

Y/N’s POV

9:13 PM

I knew he was gonna be mad because I sent that text but to be honest I don’t care. He wanted to act out so I’m gonna do it back, Though the party is starting to die down I was gonna call a Uber and have my last drink.

9:22 PM

I thanked the Uber driver and got out the car. The party was short but, pretty fun and I needed to get out the house anyways. I unlocked the door thinking the house was empty. I was so wrong….

As I stood in-front of the couch Miles greeted me with a serious and if-stares-could-kill facial expression. I didn’t know what to say but sorry, almost immediately after I was gonna apologize he got up and grabbed my arm harshly.

——————————-

(Both 1st and 2nd person)

Miles grabbed the restraints out the closet where we kept the toys at I was a shriveled mess out of scarce but also slight arousal.

Miles POV

I grabbed her soft and delicate legs to spread them apart and tie them down onto the bed pillars. Repeating the same steps only with her arms ties to the bed post slightly behind the pillars.

(Bed pillars)

———————

2ND person?

“I told you to stop being dumb did I not?” Miles said with a sharp tone it was obvious he was tired cause his accent was more pronounced.

Y/N didn’t answer and only gave him a dirty look of disobedience and annoyance. But finally she answered “It was your fault anyways if you would’ve stopped ignoring my questions maybe we would be in a more comfortable position” signing her arms tied with her eyes going up to the bed pillars.

Miles annoyed and sexually frustrated he pulled her dress up slightly to reveal her absence of panties but her presence of wetness. Miles sticks the tip of his finger in her wet hole.

Y/N’s whimpers a soft “please amor” and a slight back arch moaning after miles sticks his finger further in.

“quieres otro?” Miles says quietly into her ear trailing his free hand up her neck and giving a soft squeeze.

“Yes please, more, more..” Y/N whimpers out but because of Miles anger of her disrespect towards him he pulls his finger out “beg for it mami” Miles says with entertainment of her want and need.

“Please papi..I’ll be good for you, promise” Y/N whimpers her pleads over and over until Miles finally takes out his length.

Miles spits onto her heat giving lube so he can easily slide into her wet, tight heat giving her pleasure that he knew she didn’t deserve for pulling a stunt like she did.

Miles decided to tease her by slowly moving knowing she couldn’t do anything to make him move any faster or harder.

Y/N moaned and begged “Please Miles I need it I’m sorry I won’t do it again please..” Y/N begs Miles felt remorse but still wanted a answer “What do you want mami?” Miles says in a loving tone.

Y/N answers fast with a loud “Fuck me! Fuck me! fuck me!” And Miles took the answer and pounded into her hard and fast giving her and himself pleasure.

Y/N morning and grunting and her toes curling hard and eyes rolling back. Miles let’s out a soft groan into her neck grabbing her braids while harshly pounding his tip into her cervix.

The pain and pleasure make her feel so good causing little squirts to spurt out of her and onto Miles abdomen and the soft silk sheets she just washed.

Miles grabs her hands and says “let go ma it’s okay you can cum.” As he was about to he softly yells “cum for me mami.!” And Y/N did so with him.

Miles and Y/N lays there for a minute to cool down before Y/N is untied. After Miles asks “you wanna take a bath while I wash the sheets?” And Y/N responds with a “only if you join me?” Miles softly smiles and grows a soft frown and says “don’t ever pull that shit again.”

THE. END.

i fr wrote this with my friend man I hope y’all like it and don’t come for me cause they are both ADULTS bruv.

[bitkahuna]

no but this was hard as fuck and I'm proud

-----

“Who let you in a pub?” Sirius almost looked impressed.

“Invisibility cloak.”

Sirius nodded. “Right.”

But Remus wasn’t so quick to dismiss the situation. “How were you allowed out that late? You’re still thirteen! Don’t you have a curfew?”

Harry shrugged. “The Leaky Cauldron's unlocked till midnight.”

The lycanthrope blanched. “Are you-? Is- Harry. Please don’t tell me you’re staying at a tavern.”

“He only charges me half price.”

The two adults looked at each other, their faces conveying various levels of stress and concern.

“It’s where I stayed last summer.” He added. “Sirius used to follow me around.”

Remus looked at Sirius with wide eyes. “You knew?!”

“I was in hiding! Not like I knew he was doing it again this year! I figured he’d hole up with the Weasleys or something. Molly and Arthur keep offering.”

The werewolf’s face suddenly changed, as if struck by some brilliant idea. “That’s it! I’ll tell Molly. If she finds out, there’s no way she’d allow you to-”

“No!” Harry cried. “I like living on my own!” He insisted. “Besides,” he hesitated, thinking on his words. “I’ll stop telling you things. You know I’m going to keep doing stupid stuff, but at least this way you know about it. Wouldn’t it be worse to have no idea what I’m up to?”

Remus only stared down at Harry with a dropped jaw, while Sirius let out a laugh. “He’s got us there, Moony.”

“I already paid for the room anyway.”

Remus squinted his eyes, turning from Harry to Sirius. “You’re just going to sit there and laugh? You’re his godfather! He’s your legal responsibility!”

“Not yet. Dumbledore’s still getting my charges dropped. I don’t know how he’ll get me off for escaping, though.”

“Morally, he absolutely is your responsibility!” Remus took a deep breath before turning to the boy. “Harry, there’s some biscuits in the kitchen. Why don’t you go help yourself?”

Harry nodded, taking the cue and leaving the room. But he still listened in on their grumbles to each other through the closed door as they tried to keep their voices down. They didn’t do a very good job.

Remus began, "Really, Padfoot? Don’t you care at all about Harry being a homeless runaway?”

“Of course I care, but what am I supposed to do?”

“You may be on the run, but you own a fucking house. A house that nobody lives in! You aren’t helpless; you can give him a place to stay. And if you did, that old house elf of yours could keep an eye on him.”

“Kreacher?!”

“Yes!”

“Remus I know it’s been a while, but surely you must remember the absolute devil of a house elf that old man is! He’d hate Harry. He hates me!”

“Not like you make it very hard! Either way, you’d better come up with something. You’re his godfather; James chose you.”

"I didn’t ask him to.“

There was silence for a while. Even Harry swallowed at such a comment.

Did Sirius not want to be his godfather?

“How dare you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He’d never heard Remus sound like that before. Not even when they confronted Peter. It was low, like the rolling thunder before a vicious storm.

“I know you’re mad that escaping Azkaban and killing Peter didn’t solve all your problems, but this is your life now, Sirius, and that boy is part of it. I know he spoke to you all the time in the Forbidden Forest. I know he’s told you things he probably hasn’t told me. He trusts you, Sirius. He loves you! James’ boy loves you, Sirius. And you’d dare to say something so heartless!”

"Remus, I-" Sirius' voice faltered. He sounded broken.

"Harry needs more than just a godfather," Remus continued, his voice tinged with a barely restrained anger. "He needs a home, Sirius. A family. He needs guidance; he needs someone who is not going to abandon him at the slightest inconvenience."

"I'm not abandoning him!" Sirius snapped.

"You might as well be!" Remus retorted. "You're too focused on your own problems to see what's happening right in front of you! He’s living in The Leaky fucking Caldron! He’s hanging out in Knockturn Alley! Not even you were ever so desperate to run away from home."

"And you think you're doing any better?!"

There was a brief, tense silence and Harry could picture the two men glaring at each other.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Moony. Of course I love Harry; I’d do anything for him. But …” Sirius’s voice faltered, “I just don’t know if I can be what he needs. I’ve been locked away for over a decade, and before that, you know as well as anyone else that I was never very responsible.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Sirius!” Remus’ voice was laced with frustration. “You just have to be there for him, and right now that means giving him a safe place to stay. I'm not his godfather!" Remus finally said, nearly shouting. "I'm not the one James entrusted with his son."

"You're right." Sirius conceded after a pause. "You're not his godfather … maybe you should've been."

Harry felt sick. His arms wrapped around his stomach as he hurried towards Remus’ sink on shaking legs. He took a deep breath and tears flooded down his face as he held back nausea.

Sirius didn't want to be his godfather.

Sirius was rejecting him.

This was fine. It’s fine. Certainly, it’s fine. The Dursleys didn’t want to be his family either, so why does he care what some stupid escaped convict dogman thinks?

His legs trembled, and he sank to the floor, grabbing an empty bucket from under the tap and ducking his head inside, just in case. He was so tired of being sad.

"HOW DARE YOU?!” Remus roared.

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You're not just James and Lily's old friend anymore! You’re Harry’s family!"

"You're right, Moony!" His voice was strained. “I don’t know how to do this. I can barely take care of myself!”

“How about you start by thinking about him and not yourself for two fucking seconds, I’m begging you!”

[callsigndragon]

Seeing Red | Ch. 48 : We're soldiers ✍️

Warning: mentions of stalker, ICEMAN (should be a warning), poor baby Liam is scared, someone leaves the dagger squad :), and... there's a surprise at the end ❤️

A/N: I can hear you all screaming at me when you finish reading this. :DDDDDDDDDDDDD

Masterlist on pinned!

Jake walks to the elevator, looking for Mav’s number in his phone. He had managed to find three seats on a plane that leaves early in the morning. He and his family won’t have to stay in Hawaii much longer. 

Pressing the button and watching the doors close, Jake sighs, clenching his fist and hitting the closed door with it. How has he been so reckless? Why did he think that three years away from you could fix everything? As if his father would magically have forgotten about him, and allowed Jake to be happy for once in his lifetime. Yeah, that would never happen. 

Jake wasn’t allowed to be happy. 

“Jake? I read the group chat. Look, I’m trying to call Ice so he can help me fix this but-” 

“He found us.” Jake mutters, cutting off Mav’s words. 

“Gregory?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Fuck, Jake. You need to come back immediately.” Jake can hear Mav walking around the house, he can recognize Theo and Milo’s barks in the background. 

“I got plane tickets already. Mav, that contact you had in the NCIS… he needs to work faster.” 

Mav sighs, sitting down. “I haven't heard from him in a while, I’m actually worried. I’ll go to his house this afternoon.” 

“Thanks, pop.” Jake walks out of the elevator once the doors open, having arrived at his destination. “This isn’t like the last time, Mav. We were only two back then. But my son is in danger now. I’ll kill that son of a bitch if he tries to touch Liam.” 

“Go with Red. She needs you, and you need her, too. I’ll go to the airport to get you two tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow.” 

Jake walks down the corridor, checking behind him every two steps to see if anyone is following him. It wouldn’t surprise him that one of his father’s men had a room on the same floor. Once he gets to the door, he calls you, and you pick up right away. 

“Are you outside?” 

“Yeah, sweets. It’s me.” 

You unlock the door with a scared expression on your face. Liam is behind you, gripping your hand with such force that his tiny knuckles are white. Liam is smart, he must have sensed your fear, and he’s now scared, too. 

Jake has to take a deep breath to stop himself from kicking every door in this damned hotel until he finds the man who has been taking pictures of his family. 

“You got tickets?” You ask him, closing the door once he’s inside. 

“Yeah, we’re leaving early in the morning. Mav will be waiting for us at the airport, probably he’ll bring Rooster and Javy with him, just in case.” 

You kneel down, kissing Liam’s forehead. "Hey, pretty boy, why don’t you go play with that turtle plushie Dada bought you yesterday?” 

“I want to stay with Mama and Dada.” He pouts, grabbing the fabric of your skirt. 

“Mama and Dada aren’t going anywhere, okay? Now go play for a bit.” You insist, caressing his cheeks. Liam nods softly, sitting down in front of the TV and hugging his new plushie. 

“I hate seeing him like that, fuck.” Jake mutters, walking to the main bedroom. You follow behind him, eyes locked on his neck, fearing that the moment you stop looking at him, he might disappear, just like he did three years ago. 

He must have noticed the fear in your eyes, because when he turns, he holds your face between his hands while leaning closer, his forehead pressing against yours. “I’m not going anywhere this time, Red.” 

“Promise?” You whisper, your hands flying to his wrists. You can feel his pulse under your fingertips, accelerated and erratic. 

“I promise you.” 

Your phone rings, startling both of you. You look at it—an unknown number appears on the screen. “I don’t recognize this number.” 

Jake swallows, closing the door so Liam doesn’t hear anything. “Pick it up.” 

You take the call, putting it on speaker, so Jake can hear it too. “Hello?” 

“Lieutenant Commander Seresin?” You hear a hoarse voice at the other end of the line, not recognizing it either. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Who’s this?” 

“Iceman?” Jake asks, relaxing completely next to you. 

“Yeah. I heard that Cyclone found out about you two.” 

You look at the floor, feeling ashamed that you’re receiving a call from the Admiral itself. “Admiral Kazansky, I know that I’m the one to blame here. We knew that it was risky…”

“Please, call me Ice. And don’t worry about it. Love is love, kid. We can’t stop that. I’m calling you to offer a solution.”

Jake’s face lits up. He needs you two to stay at the base now more than ever. It’s the only place he knows you two will be safe. 

“Please, we’re desperate.” You mutter, grabbing Jake’s hand. 

“Red, would you like to be a full-time instructor at Top Gun? You won’t be taking unnecessary risks, and you won’t be related to the Dagger Squad in any way, but that’ll make possible that yours and Jake’s relationship can be considered legal.” 

“Yes! Absolutely. It’s a perfect position for me.” You reply immediately, Jake’s lips finding your temple. 

“It’s a pity that such an amazing leader has to be kicked out of the team, but we’ll think of something so you can come back. For now, this is the best option I could find.” 

“Thank you so much, Ice. Maverick called you, right?” 

“He practically begged me to keep you two at the same station. Anyway, is there anything else I can help you with?” 

You look at Jake, not knowing what to do. He swallows and takes a breath before speaking. “If the NCIS is investigating my case, I’m sure you know by now who I am.” 

“Yeah, I know. I honestly don’t care about your surname, Jake. I just care about the pilot, and you’re probably the best pilot of your generation.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Jake clenches his jaw, preparing himself for his next words. “My family is in danger, Ice. I can’t let them leave the station under any circumstances.” 

“You’re safe at base. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you soon.” 

Ice hangs up, and you look at Jake with half a smile on your face. “Well, at least we solved that part of the problem.” 

Jake snorts, tilting his head to look at you. “Always look at the bright side, Mrs. Seresin.” 

“Someone has to. You’re the negative one here. I have to be positive.” 

Jake sits on the bed, taking off his shoes. “I cant see anything positive about you being followed by my father’s men for three years.” 

You sit next to him, your hand looking for his. “The worst part is that you had to leave me, and for what? It amounted to nothing.” 

“Don’t remind me that. I could have stayed with you during the whole pregnancy, dammit.” 

You kiss his shoulder before placing your chin on it. “Let’s not worry about that. We’re gonna go back to the base, and we’ll be safe. Nobody can hurt us there.” 

“I’m not even sure he’s trying to hurt me. He just wants to scare me. Torture me psychologically until I give up and go back to him.” 

“Well, that’s not going to happen. Because you have me, and you have your family. We’re fighting with you. We're soldiers, Jake. We fight.”

Jake’s face softens, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“You won’t have to find out.” You say before kissing him softly. 

It’s been a month since Gregory decided to make his presence known, but nothing has happened since then. Not a call or a message. Not a single indication that he’s still around. It’s like he’s gone. 

But you and Jake can’t stop worrying that somehow Gregory’s next move will be worse than anything he has ever done before. 

Turns out that Mav’s friend, the one who had been trying to prove all the crimes that Jake’s father has committed, has disappeared. Maybe he got too close to the truth, and somehow the St. James patriarch got rid of him. You just hope he's okay, but a little voice inside your head tells you that the man is probably dead.

After the team found out that you had been followed for the past three years, they made a schedule so they could take care of Liam. Penny, Doc, Sarge, Ames, and Mav take turns so that Liam doesn’t have to go to daycare. It’s not a safe place if Cyclone can walk in and take your kid without authorization, just like he did in the past. 

Speaking of the devil. You told Ice how Cyclone had admitted to being in possession of a picture that was sent to him in an anonymous email, and instead of reporting it to the authorities, he decided to use that picture to expose yours and Jake’s relationship. He’s being investigated, but you don’t think he has anything to do with this. He called you back to the academy out of sheer chance, and somehow he let himself be carried away by his own feelings, whatever they were. Once he saw the picture, he found the perfect excuse to get rid of Jake once and for all. 

He had been trying to do that for the past three years, and you gave it to him on a silver plate.

Other than that, the month has been pretty calm. Ash was deployed, and she had to go back to her base, so it was impossible for you to talk to her. Rooster was pretty down after you told him that the wizzo had some important matters that took up all of her free time and she couldn't start anything with him. Javy and Nat’s relationship is still pretty new, but the way he looks at her tells you that these two will last. Maybe you should start looking for a dress for her wedding, because you know that these two will get married sooner or later. 

Doc is in her fifth month of pregnancy, and Bob has been trying to convince her to ask for maternity leave, but she’s determined to work until she can’t walk anymore. Poor Bob calls twice a day to check on her. 

Your mom has been trying to come see you now that her favorite person on the planet, and when she says that, she means Jake, is now ‘married’ to her daughter again. But things are already too dangerous for the three of you, and you don’t want to add more people to this game Jake and his father are playing. 

You’re now sitting at the Hard Deck after a long day at work, with Jake sitting next to you, his arm around your shoulders as he sips his beer. Rooster is looking out the window, his melancholic aura accompanying him wherever he goes. He can’t stop thinking about Ash, and he still thinks that he knows her from somewhere. You hope that Ash’s life becomes easier soon, because both of them deserve to be happy, even if you don’t know if Ash thinks about Rooster in the same way he does about her. 

“Do you guys have plans for the weekend?” Mickey asks, offering you a beer. 

“Stay home. I still haven’t recovered from the Fourth of July.” You reply, making Jake chuckle. 

“That was three weeks ago.” 

“We ate so much I couldn’t eat properly for the next week.” You complain, remembering the amount of meat that Mav and Mickey cooked on the barbeque. 

“It wasn’t even that much! You should see my abuelita’s kitchen on Cinco de Mayo.” Mickey looks for a picture on his phone when you see Nat and Ames at the back of the bar, moving their arms to catch your attention. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You whisper in Jake’s ear, his hand squeezing your thigh before you get up. 

You follow the two girls into the bathroom and close the door behind you. “You got it?” 

Nat takes the two pregnancy tests from the box and hands them to you. “You know what to do, mama.” 

You nod, taking them and getting in one of the stalls, taking a deep breath. 

“When I said I wanted a new nephew, I didn’t mean that you had to get pregnant the first night you had sex with my brother.” Ames says, unlocking her phone to prepare the timer. 

“We don’t know if she’s pregnant, Ames. That’s why she’s taking the tests.” Nat comments, reading the instructions. “You weren't drinking that beer I saw in front of you, right?” 

You flush the toilet and get out, leaving the two tests on the counter and washing your hands. “Of course I wasn’t”

The three of you stare at the tests, silence surrounding you. “What are you gonna do if it’s positive?” Ames questions, hugging your arm. 

“Take maternity leave.” 

“Are you gonna tell Jake?” 

“I’ll go to the ob-gyn first, make sure everything is okay. It might be Jake’s first pregnancy.” You lean against the wall, closing your eyes. “How am I supposed to bring another baby into this world when their big brother has to be constantly guarded in case someone tries to take him away from his parents?” 

Nat hugs you tightly, caressing your hair. “You’re not alone. You have this big, crazy family that will help you every step of the way.” 

You wipe your tears away, chuckling at the idea of being pregnant again. “He’s getting a vasectomy after the third baby.” 

“Third?” Ames' eyes widened in excitement. 

“Yeah, we want three kids. We talked about this a few weeks ago, but I literally didn’t think that we had one bun in the oven already.” 

“His aiming skills aren’t legendary only on the air.”

You and Nat both look at Ames, the young girl biting her lower lip so she doesn't laugh. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Amelia’s phone starts beeping, signaling that the three minutes are over. 

“It’s time to look, Red.” 

You take a deep breath and walk slowly to the counter, looking at the two tests. 

Two lines. 

Positive. 

You’re pregnant.

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[lonesome-witching]

The Middle

Another anon has sent me a prompt and I tried my hand at writing it. This one has hurt Nancy and sort of protective Robin. I tried my best. So, please enjoy.

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Sometimes Robin didn’t know how to start. She had a problem with stopping too. She usually just jumped in in the middle and stayed there. That was kind of how it happened with Nancy too. There wasn’t a beginning and Robin hoped there wouldn’t be an end. There was just them, together, the middle. Robin liked it there.

She liked it less when the middle was filled with monsters trying to kill them and the possible end of the world still being near despite everything they had fought for. But she had jumped in in the middle for that too. She shouldn’t complain though. Nancy had been there from the start. Nancy had lost and fought and lost again for years.

So, Robin didn’t complain. And Robin stood by her girlfriend’s side. Holding her hand whenever she needed to. The last thing she wanted was for Nancy to get hurt again. She’d do everything she could to protect her. Everything.

“I can come over after my shift?” Robin said into the phone. Somehow Family Video had survived the end of the world and if their patrols went well, Robin wouldn’t be out of a job anytime soon. They were able to keep the monsters out of the town center. For now, at least.

“You don’t have to,” Nancy replied.

“I know, but I want to see you. When do you get home from your patrol?”

“Ten, probably.”

“I’ll be there.” Robin hung up the telephone with a smile. She had been smiling a lot since that first kiss. Robin had never expected to find love in Hawkins, Indiana, especially not Nancy Wheeler.

“Do you need to leave early again?” Steve asked from in between the racks of tapes.

“No, Nance got her patrol tonight.”

“Oh, alright.”

Time always seemed to slow down when you were looking forward to something. Robin had noticed it before. How the clock slowed down just to torture her as she waited to go see Nancy. Someday it was going to make her go insane. Someday. Just a few more minutes and she could rush out.

“Just go, Robs. I’ve got this.”

“Really?” Robin turned toward her best friend with a hopeful expression on her face.

“Yeah, just go. Get your girl.”

Robin leaned over to kiss Steve’s cheek. “You’re the best.”

She could barely hear his response over the bell ringing through the store as she opened the door. It was only a few minutes on her bike. But she didn’t have her bike right now. Steve had picked her up that morning. It would be a longer walk. But she could manage.

They had a routine. Robin wouldn’t ring the bell. She wouldn’t even approach the front door. Instead, she would walk around to the back door. Nancy would leave it unlocked when she was expecting Robin. Only when she was expecting Robin.

This time when Robin tried to let herself into the Wheeler house, she banged herself into the locked door. It was already a few minutes past ten. Nancy should be home. Maybe she had forgotten to unlock the door.

Robin reached into her backpack, grabbing her walkie. “Nance? You there?”

“You’re supposed to end with over, over,” Dustin interrupted.

“Does anyone know who Nancy was on patrol with?” Robin asked. “Over,” she added a few moments later when no reply came.

“I think she was scheduled to be patrolling with… Jonathan tonight, over,” Dustin answered.

“Mike? Are you on this line? I need you to open the backdoor.”

“On my way,” Mike replied.

“You’re supposed to say—”

“Over,” Mike and Robin said in unison.

The door opened. “Do you want a key for in the future?” He sounded annoyed.

“Thanks, Mikey.”

He groaned loudly.

“I’m worried about Nancy, she’s never late. Do you think something happened?” Robin fell down on the couch.

“No, she’s with Jonathan. She’ll be alright.”

“I don’t know. Something is wrong.”

“She’ll probably be here any minute now.” Mike made a move to walk away. “Also, when she does, please be quiet. Holly is already sleeping.”

Robin saluted, watching Mike walk away. She’d give it five more minutes. Five more minutes and then she’d go out and search for her.

Five. Time felt like it had stopped moving. Like it had all stopped. Maybe that was why Nancy wasn’t here yet.

Four. Maybe she shouldn’t wait. She could go upstairs and grab one of Nancy’s guns. And she could go out there right now.

Three. She should wait. Nancy would walk through that door any second now. She had to believe that.

Two. Okay, she was going to—

The door flew open. Jonathan walked in, holding Nancy in his arms. Robin jumped up. “What happened? Is she alright?”

“Robin? Is that Robin?” Nancy sounded half delirious.

“Yes, it is,” Jonathan said to Nancy. “We encountered some demogorgons. Nancy got hurt.”

He placed her on the couch. There were some scratches on her arm and a gaping wound on her shoulder. Robin could feel her blood boiling. If they hadn’t already killed the monster who did this, she would.

“Nance, are you alright?” Robin fell to her knees next to the couch, holding Nancy’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I was so worried about you, Nance. I still am actually. From now on we’re patrolling together, got it? From now on, I’ll be there to protect you, okay? I’m not leaving your side anymore.”

“Yes, Robbie.”

“I’ll take care of you, Nance.”

“You always do, Robbie.”

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 5

“What do you want me to do?”

Owed a favor | Whispered conversation | Sneaking around

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

CW: alcohol, mentioned kidnapping, mentioned potential character death, mentioned gun

Continued HERE

-------------

Caretaker’s eyes shifted warily as they scaled the walls of the enemy base, rope burning in their hands and they hauled themself up, one after the other. This would all be for nothing if they got caught. Less than nothing. They wouldn’t be of any use to Youngest if they were captured, and that was on top of the agony they’d have to endure at the hands of Villain and the rest of their team if they were captured. So don’t get caught, Leader had reasoned. As if it were that simple. As if that weren’t the most obvious thing in the world. But Leader believed in them, and Youngest needed them, so here they were, freezing their ass off on the wind- and snow-swept window ledge of their most formidable foe, praying to God that they could plead well enough to the only person who could truly help save Youngest’s life.

They pressed their hand into the glass, using the friction and sticking frost to pull open the suspiciously unlocked window. No time to dwell on that, Caretaker supposed. They dove in through the small gap and landed into a silent forward roll across the hardwood floor, only to immediately be greeted by the sound of a glass shattering as it was dropped by shocked hands, followed by a long string of curses as the dropper of the glass stared at Caretaker with abject horror.

“Caretaker–” Spy hissed. “What in the actual fuck are–”

A soft knock at the door. “Medic? Everything alright?” Villain called.

Spy glared at Caretaker, commanding them to hide with a sharp nod that even Leader themself wouldn’t question. Caretaker looked around frantically, before spotting a lovely little wooden wardrobe. That’d do.

“Yeah, everything’s– great,” Spy yelled back, speech slurred. “Jus’… dropped the whiskey bottle. Just a little. Probably too much to drink– Imma gonna… gonna… jus’ clean this up an’ head to bed…”

The door creaked open. “You need–”

“Don’t come in!” Spy leaped over to the door and slammed it shut with their full body, back pressed into the painted wood. “I’m not decent!”

A pause. Caretaker bit their lip inside the wardrobe, cursing themself for not choosing any better hiding spot. The door couldn’t even close all the way!

“...alright then.” Villain’s voice finally came through the door, taken aback. “You’re a very strange drunk, Medic… I’ll leave you to it, just put on some clothes before you deal with the glass, yes?”

Spy groaned dramatically, as if Villain had just asked them to egg the neighbor kid’s house. “--fffffff-ine…”

“Thanks. No pity if you’re hungover tomorrow, yeah? Drink some water and get to bed.” Villain knocked on the door twice in lieu of a farewell, and footsteps could be heard creaking down on the hardwood floors, slowly getting quieter as Villain walked away.

Spy slammed open the doors of the wardrobe, very clothed and very sober. “You better have an amazing explanation for this, Caretaker,” they whispered with enough venom to knock out an elephant. They yanked Caretaker out and picked up a towel from where they had just been sitting, turning on their heels toward the broken glass. “Amazing, perfect, justifiable, and totally not insane reason for almost blowing my cover and getting the both of us killed.”

“They have Youngest,” Caretaker whispered urgently, grabbing another piece of fabric at random and following closely behind Spy. Spy didn’t even flinch as they threw their own towel widely over the glass and started collecting it all into the thick cloth.

“Okay. And?”

“That’s all you have to say?!” Caretaker hissed, soaking up the spill with what they now realized was an old t-shirt. “No ‘where?,’ no ‘are they alive?,’ no ‘how can I help save my teammate from being tortured to death?’...”

“What do you want me to do?” Spy finished placing all of the glass into the towel, then trudged to the other side of the room and threw the entire thing away. 

“Not sure if you noticed, Caretaker, but they think I work for them. And they need to continue thinking that I work for them until I can finish my directive,” Spy nudged Caretaker out of the way with their foot, kneeling down beside them and finishing the job of drying the spill themself. “And helping one of our captives escape is a wonderful way to make sure all my hard work goes straight down the toilet. Then you’ll have two captives that need saving–” They threw the now alcohol-soaked t-shirt into the hamper across the room. 

“--If they don’t put a bullet in my head right there and then.”

“I’m not asking you to save them, idiot,” Caretaker said through gritted teeth. “Just… keep an eye on them, please? You’re their medic. Maybe say they’ve had enough early if the team is torturing them, or, or keep them in the med bay for as long as possible with an unknown illness, or discredit any information they give, or misdiagnose their power so Villain underestimates them, and don’t shoot them if you have the chance to, and on that note, don't let Villain kill them. Just–...” They waved their hands around in front of them frantically, pleading. 

“Do something. Don’t just stand by and watch, and for the love of God, don’t join in. Please.”

Spy stared at Caretaker for a long time, face excruciatingly unreadable. “I acknowledge your request for me to help Youngest. Now get the fuck out.” Spy grabbed the collar of Caretaker's shirt and shoved them toward the open window. 

“Is that a yes?”

Spy spun Caretaker around to unequivocally ask if they were purposefully trying to kill them, only to find Caretaker's hopelessly worried puppy-dog eyes staring back at them. Always with the puppy-dog eyes. They threw their head back with a groan, fingers pinching the bridge of their nose.

“That’s an ‘I’ll do what I can without compromising my mission.’” Spy stated. “Now leave. I can’t have you getting hurt too.”

Caretaker let out a sigh of relief as they leaped up onto the window ledge. They crouched down to fiddle with the rope. “Thank you, Spy. Seriously, it means a lot." Caretaker stared down into the frozen white dust-filled abyss below them. "See you later. I missed you.”

Spy’s shoulders sagged a little. “I missed you too. Send my regards to the team.”

“Will do.” Caretaker saluted to Spy. They pulled on their repelling rope to make sure it was secure, and they were just about to swing back out, when–

“Oh, and Caretaker?” Spy called out from behind them. 

“Ye–” Caretaker turned around, but before they could react, Spy reached up and yanked their head downward by the back of the neck, desperately shoving their lips onto theirs. Caretaker almost pulled back from the shock and force of it, only before fully closing their eyes and leaning down harder into the kiss. Caretaker's breath shuddered hot on Spy’s face as their hand grasped at the back of Spy’s head, the other pulling them in tighter from the spot it found nestled in the arch of their back, holding Spy ever closer so the moment never had to end. 

Spy finally pulled back and gazed into Caretaker’s eyes, breathless. “Don’t get caught.”

“I could say the same to you,” Caretaker chuckled lowly. “Please.”

Spy scoffed and rolled their eyes, pushing Caretaker's chest lightly. “I won’t.”

Caretaker stood and backed up to the very edge of the ledge, grinning from ear to ear. “See you on the other side, Spy.” They grabbed the remaining slack of their rope and vaulted backward off the edge of the windowsill, pumping their fists and grinning like a 5-year-old at a birthday party. 

“That we will,” Spy muttered. They poured themself another glass of whiskey, a real one this time, as they gazed at the spot where Caretaker disappeared.

“One way or the other…”

@whumptember

[prismabird]

*Collapses* I did it. They’re home.

For those of you who are on Reddit, a Mythical Beast in the Austin area put out a message that the Mythicon Rhett and Link cowboy wooden cutouts were in the back of their warehouse, about to be cut up and thrown out, and would anyone like to rescue them? I live 45 minutes away, so I posted ‘sure, of course! How much fun would it be to get them, decorate them for Christmas, prop them up in my lawn, and confuse all my neighbors? I could shoot a Wheel of Mythicality video! I’ll put them in front of the mall, by the world’s biggest cowboy boots! I’ll leave them on top of the HEB!’

I was half kidding, half serious, 100% high. I don’t even own a truck.

The next day, they message me the address and let me know that the guy working in the warehouse knows to expect me on Monday. Uh oh. I think I’m locked in. What am I going to do? Rent a truck?

Rent a truck, apparently.

Monday morning, I call my friend Liz and ask if she wants to come with me. I’m not so sure about this because you see, I had never DRIVEN a truck before. I’m a bit of a nervous type, and… to say I’m prone to distractions would be an understatement. I’m walking ADHD with a face. I can barely focus on typing up this story because my cat is sitting two feet from me, licking his ass. If I’m going to do something new, especially something physical, I’m usually better alone because even WALKING and talking will cause me to trip over my own feet. This could end in disaster.

But she wants to come, and we head to the Home Depot. I pay, we get the keys, buy a bungie cord, and head out. First obstacle: it is raining, and foggy as hell. Second obstacle: I can’t figure out how to get the door to the truck open. It’s just – I’m turning the key, the little door lock nub pops down, but the door wont open. By this point, Liz is laughing her ass off at me, but takes pity on me and opens the door. Turns out, it was already unlocked. This is going great.

I’m in the driver’s seat. This thing feels HUGE, and I’ve never driven anything bigger than my Mazda CX5. When I back up, it beeps. It FUCKING BEEPS. I am out of my depth. It takes me 5 minutes to get out of the parking lot. I was shaking, refusing to get on the highway for the first 10 minutes. But sure enough, I get a little more confident and finally get the monstrosity out on I-35.

Eventually we make it to the warehouse, and I find a very nice man welding back there. Sure enough, he knew I was coming. “Just back the truck up the loading ramp,” he says.

JUST. BACK. THE. TRUCK. UP. THE. LOADING. RAMP.

I am barely comfortable driving this thing forward on a road. Immediately, thoughts of us tipping over the side of the concrete ramp fill my mind. But we’re too far in. It has to be done.

All the while, Liz is trying to direct me, not from outside the truck like I want, but from the passenger seat. She’s not even looking backward, like she has the fucking Force or something. I’m trying to do it my own way. She keeps yelling directions at me. I start to lose it. “STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP YELLING AT ME! I’M TRYING TO DO THIS BLIND!”

“You’re not blind, I’m guiding you.”

“IF A PERSON IS GUIDING A BLIND PERSON, THEY’RE STILL DOING IT BLIND!”

“No they’re not, they’re -”

“Shush! This is the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life!”

We do not tip over the edge of the ramp, and the nice man loads the cutouts for us. We pull off the ramp and get out to strap them down. This takes twenty minutes (mostly Liz did it, for which I am extremely grateful), and I make a new discovery – these things are SOLID. Like heavy as hell. I don’t know how that man loaded them himself, but I was impressed.

Something about the truck – its shocks suck. So every bump and dip on I-35, Rhett and Link are bouncing and SLAMMING together. Multiple jokes about Rhett and Link banging in the back of the truck ensue, but rest assured, I am terrified. I’m picturing the headlines: “Giant Wooden YouTube Cowboys Kill Family of Four on I-35.”

Finally, we get them to my house. Link is easy enough for the two of us to unload. Rhett is ... more of a challenge. It’s at this point that it occurs to me that my plan of shooting a Wheel of Mythicality video are going to hinge on whether or not I’ll ever get these guys to stay upright in my lawn. This is yet to be seen.

So thanks to my extremely capable friend, and marijuana, there are now two 10-foot tall, 100-pound wooden cutouts just chilling in my garage. I can’t say I regret it. I have the most unique Mythical merch ever. I have no fucking clue what I’ll ever do if I move, which is great because I’m planning to move in a year. Still…no regrets (mild regrets).

[autobot2001]

Painful Death

@mediwhumpmay: alt 3 poisoning @themerrywhumpofmay item 2 hydrochloric acid (snippet from Hidden Killer) TW; death, murder

Austin is given a tour of Que and Wheeljack's science lab. He is interested in science, but he is currently hoping to find something to use for his next kill. Austin knows he needs to be careful about what he takes, and he finds a hidden bottle behind a larger one. Taking the chance, he takes the bottle, a syringe, and a box of needles.

Once back in his room, Austen researches the chemical and its effects on the human body. This information aids in figuring out a plan. The only challenge is figuring out when to cross paths with his target, and social media and his target posting where they go make this easier. Dumbness posting where they go to work out. Austin smiles. Reviewing the map of the area. He's able to figure out where his target lives.

Austin leaves the base at four in the morning. Liking his target is someone who likes early morning workouts. He finds his target's car and can jumpstart it. He prepares what he needs to get the target to the designated location. He covers himself as he does when approaching his targets.

".... I'll be there at nine," Austin hears his victim. "You'll be a no-show," Austin tells them. "You don't want to challenge me," his target warns. The two start fighting. "Sh, I see you've been preparing for this day," Austin smiles. "I don't even know you." Ystin continues to fight his target until they're by the car. He can tie up his target, gag, and put him in the trunk. "Whoever taught you self-defense sucks." Austin finds his victim's keys, closes the trunk, and speeds off to the location.

Once at his victim's house, he drags his victim into the house after unlocking the door. He drags the victim upstairs to a bedroom.

Austin puts his target on the bed and removes the gag. "Untie me bitch!" Tsk tsk, I thought you'd remember me, Donald." Austin removes his hood and face covering. "You! I was hoping you would have been one of the deceased in the fire." "Who do you think set the fire?! "You're not the only one to underestimate me. In fact, I'm surprised the police didn't warn you, Donald. I've killed the judge who sentenced me, the fucker who runs the asylum, and your torture partner," Austin loves seeing the fear on Donald's face, "now it's your turn." Austin injects the chemical, eager to hear Donald scream, and he thought he'd be waiting a few minutes to hear Donald scream. "What did you inject?! Fuck, it burns!" Austin stays for a few minutes, hearing his victim scream.

"911, what's your emergency?" I hear screaming from my next-door neighbor. Like in pain screaming." The caller tells dispatch who lives at the house the screaming is coming from. They watch from in their home, hoping to see someone run out of the house to help the police with their investigation, but it seems no one leaves the home from when they've called 911 to when emergency services arrive.

Prowl, Jolt, and Ratchet chose to be part of the team who rushes to the home. They are concerned about how much pain the human in the bedroom is in. "The killer is...," the victim tries to say but struggles with the pain. The medics hoped to help with pain to find out what the victim was saying, but he soon goes I ri respiratory failure. They're concerned about how rapidly their patient is declining and worried he won't survive the trip to the hospital.

By the time they get to the hospital, the patient cannot breathe on their own, and their heart rate is above one-hundred beats per minute. The medical team and medics who responded to me the call quickly realize how serious the case was. All believe they'll need a miracle for this patient to survive as they see signs of internal bleeding. Worried surgery isn't an option; the alternative is letting the patient die.

They try all they can in the operating room, but the patient dies within twenty minutes. The surgical team discovers part of the cause of death. "What the hell caused his organs to be corroded?" One of the surgeons asks. They thought they'd have to wait until an autopsy happens, but blood tests showed hydrochloric acid in the blood. "Suicide?" "No, they were trying to say something," Ratchet argues, "perhaps the name of the one who injected this chemical." They know they'll never find out and can't assume it was the Holiday Killer. Worried others are in danger of dying this way, and hating there's nothing they can do to prevent more people from dying this way.

Austin knows he can't reuse the same weapon to kill as much as he loved hearing his victim scream.

[yelenasdiary]

Hold On - Cold Chills

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: Things have been tough since you split from your wife, Natasha. Now wanting a fresh start elsewhere, Natasha sees what she’s truly losing. Is it too late for her to save what’s left of her family?

| Angst, light fluff | 3.8K | Warnings: None beside you and Nat have two children. Held hostage, mentions of murder, weapons, drugs, child birth, 

Translation: detka (baby), malyshka (baby girl), moya lyubovʹ (my love), malenʹkiy prints (little prince)

Hold On Masterlist

“Na-Natasha isn’t here… she d-doesn’t live here anymore” you tried looking for the man’s eyes. “Probably a good idea she isn’t here” he chuckles, pulling up a seat in front of you and taking a seat. He placed the gun carefully on the table still in your sight, “I did hear that sad news about you two” he adds with a sarcastic tone “the black widow and her wife break up, I have to say I wasn’t expecting that” he laughs. “What happened huh? She cheats? Lose her cool with you? Or couldn’t you kick it as an avenger’s wife anymore?” he asks. 

You ignored his words, distracted by the sulking whimpers of Rooster. “Pl-please let me check the dog, he’s just an an-animal” you looked to your intruder. He shook his head, “I don’t care about your mutt of a dog” he lent back in his chair. 

Tears filled your eyes even more, “wh-what to do want with me?” you asked. The man pulled out a mobile from his back pocket and placed it next to his glock. “I’m glad you asked” he smirked, “do you want me to be honest or give you the sugar-coated reason?” he asked. 

“Just be honest” you sobbed. 

“Okay, well” he starts, leaning forwards towards you, “I’m going to kill you before I leave. You can blame your ex-wife for this, like I said before, she took everything from me, and I think it’s only fair I take everything from her” he explains. The tears becoming stronger. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in hurting those kids of yours” he assures you. 

“Whatever Nat did, I’m sorry but you do-don’t have to do this”

“Sweetheart, you don’t get to plead. I’m already being nice enough to leave your kids unharmed. The least you could do is thank me” he grabs the mobile and wipes your endless tears off your cheek. “Now, would you like to call them before we do this?” he unlocks the phone. 

“Don’t k-ki..kill me here, please” you whimpered. Thoughts of Natasha returning to drop the children off only to see your lifeless body started to haunt you. The cold man looked up from the phone, “I don’t want them to see me…li-like that” you added. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cover you well, leave a note for Natasha at the door” he gives you a chilling smirk. “Are we going to call them or not?” he asks once more. 

Your mind was a mess between trying to stay calm, thinking of a way to buy yourself more time and of course, your family and friends. “Answer me!” he snaps. 

“Ye-yes” you stuttered.  The man gave you a nod, “right now what number do we call? Natasha’s?” he asked, his thumb hovering over the dial pad. 

“No…Nat is on a mission, th-the kids are at their aunties house” you lied. 

“Oh, this keeps getting better!” he smirked once more, “Natasha on a mission, the kids away, Natasha comes home to a dead ex-wife then has to explain her actions to the kids!” his chuckle made your stomach turn. “Number?” he cocked an eyebrow. 

You stutter but finally managed to give him Wanda’s number, he placed her on speaker. 

“Hello? Who is this?” Wanda’s Sokovian accent travels through the speaker. 

“Wanda, it’s me” you spoke trying to hide your broken voice. The man placed his free hand on the glock as he waited. “Y/n, it’s late, is everything okay?” Wanda asks with a worried tone. 

“Ju-just fine, uhm, I was just wanting to check in on the kids, say goodnight?” you explained hoping Wanda would quickly work out something was wrong. “Of course, Soph is asleep, but Riley is up in the boy’s room, I’ll just go grab him for you, I’ll be back” Wanda replied in a more cheerful tone to your relief. 

----

Wanda muted her end of the call and looked at Vision. “Wanda, love is everything okay?” he asked his concerned wife. “Can I borrow your phone?” she asks, Vision didn’t hesitate and handed over his phone. “Can you get Billy for me please? It’s important” she asks, scrolling through Vision’s contacts. He didn’t speak, nodded and wandered to the boy’s room. 

“Hang on Y/n, he’s just in the toilet” Wanda unmuted to buy more time before muting her end again. Finally finding Natasha’s number in Vision’s contacts she presses call.

“Hey Vision?” Natasha answers. 

“Nat, have you heard from Y/n?” Wanda jumps to the point. 

“No..not since this afternoon. Why?” Nat replies. 

“Something is wrong. I have her on speaker, she called from an unknown number and asked to speak to Riley and Sophie, but they aren’t here” she quickly explains, “I can’t talk much longer but something is wrong Natasha” she adds in a worry. 

“Let me call her phone and call you back” Nat suggests. 

“No, Nat don’t do that. She could be in trouble, go to her!” Wanda hangs up once Vision comes back with Billy. 

Wanda quickly explains that Billy needs to act like Riley and talk to you as if he were Riley. “It’s very important okay baby?” she looks at her son, Billy nods. 

----

“Tell her to hurry up!” the man whispers to you. 

“Wa-wands... ar-are you there?” 

There was a moment of silence before you heard Wanda’s voice again. “I’m back, sorry about that we had a little accident” she returns her cheerful tone. “Can I pl-please speak to Riley?” you ask, hoping Wanda would make an excuse as to why you couldn’t. 

“Sure, he’s right here” she says to your surprise. 

“Mama?” you quickly worked out Billy’s voice, a sigh of relief leaving your body as you knew Wanda had worked out something was wrong. “Hi b-baby” you replied, playing along. “Are you being good for Aunty Wanda and Uncle Vis?” you asked. 

“Yes! Tommy and Billy are showing me the new board game Vision brought them” 

“That so-sounds like fun my love”

“Is everything okay Ma? You keep stuttering” 

“Everything is fine my baby, I j-just miss you and Sophie and wanted to tell you how much I love you both”

“We love you to Ma! So much!” 

Even though you knew it wasn’t Riley, your heart felt warm. “Wrap it up” the man whispered. You gave him a soft nod, tears still streaming down your cheeks. “Mama is going to bed now; you keep being a good boy okay baby” you spoke. 

“I will mama! Goodnight!” 

“Goodnight my love” you replied before the man hung up. 

“Right, now that part is over. We should get things moving” the man stood from the seat and walked over to the kitchen island, unzipping a bag. You couldn’t help but break down, unable to move your arms or legs, your tears falling freely onto your neck and soaking the top of your PJ top. 

“I’m going to let you pick your faith” the man spoke as he returned with a roll of tarp, a needle and of course, his glock. He lay the tarp on the floor beside you before returning to his seat. “You have two options. I can give you a hotshot or I shoot you in the back of the head” he says bluntly. “Either one will kill you instantly of course” he adds.

“C-can I pl-please leave them a l-letter?” you ask, again to buy more time. 

“You want to write a letter? To whom? The kids? Don’t worry about that, I’m sure they’ll forget about who you are before they turn 18” he returns the cold smirk from earlier. 

“pl-please, ju-just one” you begged. 

“No” he shakes his head, “I let you call them, that’ll be enough” he says. 

He laughed a little while you cried harder. Your mind processing this was it for you, your children would never truly hear from you again. “Now, which one? Needle or gun?” the man breaks your thoughts. 

“G..Gu…gu-..gun” you stuttered, your tears falling harder.

“Good choice” he winks, grabbing the gun and walks behind you. You closed your eyes, saying your last mental goodbyes to those you love the most. 

“You know, I do really hate to do this but sometimes things are just out of our control” the man’s voice haunts your thoughts, “any last words?” he asks. You shook your head, anything you wanted to say was being said in your mind. 

Your eyes squeezed shut tighter once you heard him turn the safety off. Waiting for the sound of the shot if you could hear it. 

“I love you; I love you; I love you” you whispered to yourself as you remember your most favourite memories. 

--Flash Back—

*Memory 1: *

“Detka please, let me take you to see Bruce. You’ve been sick for weeks now” Natasha spoke holding your hair back and rubbing your lower back as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet. 

A few more chucks and a sip of water you felt fine again, “Detka, I’m calling Bruce” Natasha pulls out her phone. “Don’t” you placed your hand over her phone. 

Natasha looked at you and frowned with concern. A small smile formed on your lips. “Nat, I’m pregnant” you said softly. Natasha’s eyes lit up, “W-what?! It worked?!” she asked with a big smile, you nodded as your own smile grew. 

“We’re having a baby?” she whispered, placing her forehead against yours, one of her hands gently rubs your stomach “We’re having a baby” you confirmed. 

*Memory 2: *

“I can’t do this!” you cried, squeezing Natasha’s hand tightly. “I’m so tired” you cried. Natasha kissed your forehead, “you’re doing great moya lyubovʹ” she tells you. Sweat dripping from your face, tired and in pain and somehow you still felt comfort in her words. 

“I think two more big pushes will do it Mama!” the doctor says. You shook your head, looking at Natasha in tears “I can’t!” you repeated. 

“Breathe with me baby” Natasha brushes your hair back, helping you find a rhythm again. 

“Ready? I need you to give me one big push” the doctor adds. 

“You’ve got this detka” Natasha whispers before you give the doctor another push, screams learning your lungs. “That’s it! One more” the doctors says. 

You swore you almost broke Natasha’s hand as you give on final push before the room soon filled with the first cries of your new-born. 

“Congratulations guys, it’s a boy!” the doctor smiles, holding up your son. A nurse hands Natasha some scissors and she carefully cuts the cord. Before the wrap your son up, they handed him to you for a moment. 

Tears of joy filled your eyes, suddenly distracted by the pain of giving birth. 

“I’m so proud of you moya lyubovʹ, you’re so beautiful” Natasha kisses your forehead again before her eyes met the crying baby.

*Memory 3: *

You drifted in and out of a slumber while Natasha watched over you and your son who was only a few hours old. 

The baby started to pick up a fuss and Natasha scooped him into her arms. “Shh malenʹkiy prints you’re okay” she slowly swayed him in her arms, she smiled at him once he started to settle again. “You made quite the entrance, didn’t you” she starts. “Couldn’t wait to meet your mama huh?” she adds. “You’re a very special little boy, you know. Having the mama you have, she’s amazing” you faintly heard her speak. 

“Your mama and I love you so much my little man” 

When you woke up, Natasha was still sitting by your side, your baby peacefully sleeping in her arms. “Hi” you whispered, careful not to wake the bundle of joy. “Hi mama” Natasha smiled as she looked at you. 

“How is he?” you asked, taking in the scene of your wife holding her son. “He’s perfect detka, he has your nose” she speaks softly. You smiled at her comment, “He needs a name” you said. 

“I’m happy with the name we picked if you are” she looks down at the little baby. Your heart filled with more love, even though you didn’t think that was possible. “Riley Clint Romanoff” you whispered. 

“Riley Clint” Nat repeated.

*Memory 4: *

You held 1 year old Riley in your arms as you waited for the quinjet to land. “Look Riley, Mommy is home!” you pointed to the large aircraft, Riley also pointed. 

Natasha walked off the jet with a big smile on her lips “Is that my big boy I, see?” she cheers, walking over to you both, talking Riley into her arms and placing a kiss on his chubby cheek. “I missed you both!” she says before kissing your lips softly. “We missed you” you smiled. “Where you a good boy for mama?” she asks Riley who still hasn’t mastered the talking trait. 

“A very good boy” you answered for him. 

“Look out, there’s a mini-Romanoff on campus!” Steve came up behind the three of you, Riley wrapping his little hand around Steve’s index finger. 

“Are you scaring my god son Rogers?” Clint calls with a chuckle. “I think you’ve already done that” Steve replied. 

That afternoon you, Riley and Natasha spent at the compound, surrounded by Natasha’s second family. You already knew this but seeing how loving and fun everybody was with Riley made you soon realise that no matter what the world would throw at your son, he would always have the love and support of his big extended family. 

*Memory 5: *

“Mommy!! Ma is being sickie again!” A little 4-year-old Riley ran towards Natasha. “Stay here baby, play with your blocks okay” Nat instructed before rushing to be by your side.

“Oh detka, are you okay?” Nat cooed when she saw you on the bathroom floor. You nodded, reaching your hand out for her. She took your hand and helped you to your feet. “I just want to go to bed” you said. Natasha knew recently you’d been having trouble sleeping, “Let’s get you to bed then” she smiled softly before leading to you bed. 

You slipped under the covers; Natasha kissed your forehead “get some rest detka” she spoke. “Natty, could you please get me my favourite hoodie?” you asked with begging eyes. 

“Of course,” she smiled, walking over to the drawer to grab your favourite hoodie of hers. She stopped in her tracks when she lifted the hoodie up to see a pregnancy test sitting right in front of her. Placing the hoodie on top of the drawer she grabs the test and turns around to face you. “Detka?” she says. 

“Surprise mommy” you tiredly smiled. After a year of failed attempts, worried there was something wrong entirely, Natasha slowly walks over to you and sits on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure?” she asked already searching your eyes for an answer. “I had Dr Cho confirm with blood tests after I took that test” you explained. Natasha’s lips quickly grew a big smile, her left hand grabs your right, “you’re pregnant?” she asks just to be sure again. 

“Yes, my love” you smiled as you saw the love in Natasha’s eyes. She places the test the side and wraps you tightly in a hug “I love you” she whispers.

*Memory 6: *

“She’s finally asleep” you slump down onto the sofa, resting your legs over Natasha’s lap. “I told you I’d help” Nat smiles, rubbing your legs to relax you. “I know but you were busy with Riley, and I don’t mind tending to our daughter” you smile, “it’s kind of my job” you joked. Natasha chuckled, “can you believe how quiet it is right now?” she asks as you felt yourself becoming more and more relaxed. 

“It’s beautiful, I mean I love our babies, but the silence is so nice” you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of Natasha relaxing your muscles. “You know I love you right?” she says softly.

“Nat, she’s only a year old surely you can’t want another one just yet” you chuckled. Nat shook her head playfully, “No uh, what we have is already perfect” she says. 

There was a moment of silence before you felt her hands stop rubbing. “Natty?” you questioned. 

“I can’t do it” she says more to herself. 

“Do what?” you open your eyes, slowly sitting up to look at her. “I can’t retire” she starts, “I know we’ve spoken about it, and I thought I could do it, but I can’t. Every day there is almost a new threat, and I can’t help but find myself thinking about you and kids. What if something happens to you and I could’ve stopped it?” she continues. 

“Nat, baby, I know” you held her hands. 

“You do? You understand?” 

“Of course, I do. I knew the moment Riley was born that there was no way I could convince you anymore. I hoped you’d come to it on your own, but I see how much you stress about the kids when they get sick, I can only imagine how you feel with the things you hear and see when you’re not at home being a mother” you explain. 

“You’re okay with it?” Natasha asked. 

“No” you said honestly, “but I won’t stop you from doing what you love” your eyes fell to her hands, “I just…I just hope you’re more careful and more aware that you need to come home more than ever, we have children now” you add. 

“Y/n, I promise you, I will always come home to you guys. I mean it”

“You can’t promise that Natasha… death is… death.” 

“Detka”

“I’m serious Nat. Don’t promise me you’ll come home after every mission…realistically anything could happen. Just be more careful, I know what you’re like” 

After that, that’s when the issues in your marriage started to show more. 

--Flash Back Over—

“I’m sorry it had to be this way” the man’s voice brought you back to the harsh reality. 

“So am I” 

The loud sound of the glock filled the house. You squeezed your eyes tighter, your body went into shock, the tears soaking your face. 

“Detka!” you felt a pair of soft hands cup your face as you shook. “Detka, open your eyes it’s okay” the familiar voice coached. Slowly you opened them to see Natasha kneeling in front of you, stroking your cheeks with her thumbs. “N-n-n-Nat?” you stuttered. 

“You’re okay, detka” she gently wrapped her arms wound your neck, pulling you close to her chest as your body was still in shock. “Breathe for me” she says as she looked at the lifeless body in a pool of blood. 

Natasha held you until your body came out of shock. “Natasha” you sobbed. 

“I’m here detka, shhh” she kissed the top of your head. “I’m right here” she adds. 

Shortly, you began to calm your body down, the shaking tops but your tears still ran freely. Natasha untied you and instantly you wrapped your arms wound her. “I’m so sorry” you cried into her. 

“Y/n, it’s okay don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. I should’ve been here” she held you tightly. 

“No, Nat, I’m sorry. It was my fault. I told you to leave” you spoke as you pulled away from Natasha, “I was just so – “

“Shhh detka, don’t you dare apologise. You did the right thing. You did what you had too, okay? I’m sorry this happened, I should’ve been here. Are you hurt?” 

You shook your head, “no I’m fine ju-just check Rooster! He’s in the bedroom” you told her. She nodded, “I’ll go check on him. Don’t…don’t look behind you, okay?” she instructs, protecting your eyes from the scene that showed behind you. 

----

Natasha called Tony, Steve and Clint who came over and helped clean up the mess, Bucky took Rooster to the vet to get check out while Natasha comforted you on the sofa, your head rested on her shoulder. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked for the 100th time. 

“Natty, I’m fine… I’m just a little shaken” you replied, “where’s the kids?” you asked. 

“They’re with Yelena” 

“How did you know?” you asked her, trying to work out how she knew you needed her. 

“Detka, you called Wanda wanting to speak to the kids. She called me from Vision’s phone and said something wasn’t right. When I pulled up, the neighbour said they heard a smashing sound like glass breaking and the dog barking, so I knew something was wrong” Natasha explains. 

Tony came into the living room and said everything was all clear and that Steve and Clint would take the body back to the compound for the authorises to deal with. 

“Thanks guys” Natasha thanked them while you spaced out. “Detka, lay down. I’m not going anywhere” Natasha said once the guys left.

You looked at Natasha, your eyes red from crying. “I shouldn’t have let you leave; I mean it Natty; I love you and I can’t stop.” You admitted, “I miss you, everything is just cold without you here” you added.

“Y/n, we don’t have to have this talk right now, I want you to rest” 

“No, I need you to know Nat… I was just so over the fighting and the not knowing. I knew when I married you that I would also be marrying your job, I knew that, and I was okay with that. Then we had Riley and I hated when you’d miss the little things, his first drawing or when he learnt to spell his name. Just moments I wanted to share with you, but something always dragged you away from me, from us” you went on.

You gently cupped Nat’s face, looking into her eyes once more “I was selfish and I’m so sorry I tore us apart. I love you; I always have, and I always will” you added. 

Natasha searched your eyes for any sign of regret before she passionately pressed her lips against yours. You wrapped your arms around her neck and deepened the kiss. Her lips were soft as she kissed you with her all, her hands resting on your hips. 

“Don’t retire” you whispered against her lips, pulling away for air. 

“Wh-what?” She frowned at your words. You slightly pulled away, licking over your lips. “Talk to Tony, get it lifted. I should never have pushed you to retire. As much as we need you, the world also deserves to be protected” you explained. 

“Detka, I meant what I said. You and kids deserve better of me. My life with is you, if you’ll have me again…” she paused “you and the kids mean more to me” 

There was a moment of silence. With everything that has just happened and sharing a much-needed kiss, you weren’t sure what to do. All you knew was that no matter what, Natasha would always be there for you and kids. 

“Nat…I – “

“It’s okay, Y/n, I don’t expect you to have an answer, not right now. I just want you to know you’re safe and I will do everything I can to make things right” Natasha cut you off. 

“Come home” you said as soon as her mouth closed. Natasha tried to hide the light smile on her lips “are you sure?” she asked. 

You gave her a nod, “I want to try again”.

Taglist: @agalsmaraudersobsession | @thatonebrazilian | @an-evergreen-rose | @ygtft-chen | @pewpughpew | @reginassweetheart | @mrsromanoff | @shanmik | @katherineromanova | @sayah13 | @wackymcstupid | @imnotslouching | @marvelwomen-simp | 

[holylulusworld]

Never gonna love again

Summary: Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of abandonement, regrets, fluff

A/N: Inspired by  Lykke Li‘s ‘never love again’; lyrics taken from the song

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

He stands outside the fancy house, clothes and hair soaked from the rain. What else can he do? Storm into your new home, and shoot the guy next to you in the head?

Dean still doesn’t know why he follows you and the guy to your house. He was simply strolling through town in need of a drink.

Life is funny sometimes. Right when he was about to at least forget about you for the night, you stepped out of the nearby drugstore to follow your new man toward his expensive car.

Now he stands here and doesn’t know what to do with himself.

It’s all on him. Dean knows it’s his fault you are celebrating your birthday with someone else but him. And that you will wear that guy’s ring in no time. You always wanted Dean to be your one and only but he, well he just couldn’t give you what you needed the most.

Instead of telling you, he feels the same, Dean did what he always does when someone gets too close to him. He ran. Fuck, he almost broke a new speed record when he jumped into his car and never looked back.

Baby can you hear the rain fall on me

 Never gonna love again

 Baby can you hear my heart cry tonight

 I can't keep running away

 This time

 I can't keep running away,

 'Cause I'm never gonna love again

Dean knows he’s got no right to have a broken heart. Not when he broke yours first and thoroughly by leaving you behind. In the rain. On a night like this. 

He looks up at the sky, huffing as more dark clouds seems to follow him. “More rain, huh? Or how about a thunderstorm? Yeah, that would be nice.”

The night sky illuminates with lighting and thunder, making Dean laugh even louder. “Here I am,” he slurs. “Come and get your pound of flesh. I’m right here for you to take.”

“What the fuck?” he drops his eyes toward the now open door. “Who are you? What are you doing out here?”

“I-“ his eyes widen as you aim your shotgun toward his head. Dean swallows thickly. “Uh-I just came by and wanted to…” He trails off. There is no rational reason for standing outside your house. “My car broke down.”

“And then you come here to yell at the moon like a lunatic,” you unlock your shotgun. “Get back inside.” You glance over your shoulder at a woman and the man Dean saw with you. “I’ve got this.”

“Is that the monster?” the woman asks as the man places his hand on her shoulder. “Is it over when you kill it?”

“Monster? I’m not a monster,” Dean grumbles as you blink a few times. It’s hard to see anything beyond his silhouette in the darkness and with the rain pouring down on you. 

“Step inside the light, but don’t you dare to try anything. A bullet is still faster than you,” you threaten as the stranger steps out of the shadows to reveal his true form. “Dean? What are you doing here? Where’s Sammy?”

“Hi, Y/N,” he awkwardly waves at you.

“Do you want to take over my case? That’s not going to happen, dude.”

“I,” Dean licks his lips. If he tells you he came here to spy on you and your new boyfriend you’ll chase him away without a doubt. “I didn’t know you are already taking care of the case. Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Well,” you ponder. Can you trust Dean after he chased you away and broke your heart? He’s one of the best hunters you know. “It can’t hurt to have a backup, I guess. Get your shit.” 

Dean watches you walk back inside the house. He acts as if his heart didn’t stop beating for a second when you smiled at him. 

“I’ll be quick.”

“That’s what a girl wants to hear from a guy, Winchester,” you sass back as he takes too long to walk toward his car to get his duffle bag and guns. “Hurry up. If you make it inside within thirty seconds, I’ll pay for the drinks next time we meet.”

“I’m on it,” Dean runs toward the house, snickering as you roll your eyes. “Never offer free drinks to me, sweetheart. You’ll only make me run faster.”

“Yeah. You’re an expert in running,“ you turn around and focus on the task at hand. “Especially in running away from your feelings and shit.”

Every time the rain falls, think of me

 On a lonely highway

 How can we

 Turn around the heartache

 Oh, I'm alone tonight babe

 And I'm never gonna love again

“Straight to the point, huh? No, hi. How have you been, or do you want a beer?” Dean tries to play it cool. Inside a thunderstorm of emotions is fighting to win the upper hand. He’s close to falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness. Dean wishes he could tell you how he feels since you’ve been gone.

“Why waste time on small talk Dean? I never beat around the bush. If we do this, we should make one thing clear,” with hands on your hips you glare at Dean. “I won’t work with you before you admit that you fucking missed me!”

“I,” he chuckles as you look him up and down. You cock your head and wait for his reaction. “Y/N, sweetheart.”

“No sweet-talking Winchester. I wanna hear it,” pointing your index finger at him you purse your lips. “Or do you want me to say it first?”

“I…shit,” he drops his bag and cups your face to press his lips to yours. “I fucking missed you, Y/N. You don’t know how much. I should’ve never run away from you and my feelings.”

“Was that so hard?” you lift one brow, smirking as he looks down at you. Confused as hell. “Damn you, Winchester. It only took you like a year and a half and a case to make you come to me. Now you will apologize for leaving me after I admitted my feelings.”

“I’m sorry…so fucking sorry,” he hastily says.

“Never mind,” you run your hand up and down Dean’s chest before you grip his jacket roughly. “You still owe me so much more. Like dinner, and candles and all that stuff girls like.”

“You’ll get it,” he clears his throat. “But we should get this job done first. Don’t you think?” you nod as Dean looks around the living room of the house that, as he knows now, isn’t yours. “Let’s kick some ass.”

“Welcome back, pipsqueak,” Sam gives you a hive-five as you walk into the library. While Dean carries your belongings into your room, his brother smirks. “Took him long enough to apologize.”

“Samuel Winchester,” you whisper, “did you lie to your brother about my non-existent boyfriend? Don’t lie to me. Dean told me about the things you told him. And how did he find me?”

“I dropped that someone saw you with a guy. It wasn’t my fault Dean believed he’s your boyfriend,” Sam shrugs. “Dean wanted me to trace your phone and the rest is…history”

“You’re the best,” you stand on tiptoes to peck Sam’s cheek. “I’ll keep it a secret.”

“Sweetheart, are you coming? I need to show you something,” Dean calls for you, making you giggle as he hurriedly walks back inside the library. “Y/N, I need to show you something…”

“You mean the shrine with the things she left and her pictures on your wall, in your room,” Sam teases as his brother’s eyes widen. Dean believed he hid his secret well from any prying eye.

“No. Uh-I got you a knife matching my favorite one,” Dean shows you a knife with your initials on the blade. “See, it says Y/N, toughest hunter ever.”

“I love it,” you wrap your hand around Dean’s wrist. “Let’s have a closer look at those pictures on your wall now…”

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