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#and im getting my hair cut soon and im worried about that as well
catinasink · 14 days
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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
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lowkeyremi · 5 months
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jjk men and aftercare ft. Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Toji, and Geto.
a/n: I saw something like this awhile ago and forgot to write abt it but here I am now babyyyy (there is already a part 2 in progress bc i wanna do 10 characters lmaoo) also not proofread bc im tired :P
cw: really suggestive, established relationships, how they are after sex basically :)
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Gojo Satoru
When you two first started hitting third base Gojo was all about himself and about how he felt. When you had cleaned yourself up and prepared for bed that night Satoru finally realized something was wrong.
"What's wrong, babe? I thought you liked it??" He asks, worried about his performance in bed. Your silence prompts him to try and figure out what he had done wrong, and honestly he couldn't even think of anything.
"Pleaseeee tell me. I won't know if you don't say anything." Those invasive thoughts that tell you, "you don't matter to him." start to attack your brain once again. He's way out of your league you start to think.
"Aftercare. You didn't even offer to help me clean up, Satoru." Saying it out loud makes you sound kind of petty in your opinion but it does matter.
"OH. Shit baby I'm so so so so sorry!!!!! I- It's just-" He cuts himself off and tries to reword his sentence, "Well, back then I.. I was sleeping around so my pleasure was the only thing that mattered to me. It's different.. you know? Dating. I'm still working out everything. I won't forget next time I promise."
He'd been telling the truth because from then on he always went all out with aftercare. He would run you a bath with your favorite salts and oils, he'd make you your favorite snacks, he'd even cuddle you afterwards until you fell asleep. (rich boyfriend privileges)
Choso Kamo
He'd been waiting so long to finally sleep with you for the first time so he had done all his research prior to the day. He was looking at your dilated pupils, messy hair, and the cum that sat on your stomach.
"Okay so, according to the article I read, I should run you a hot bath, yeah?" He asks nervously.
A small smile braces your lips. In all honesty you probably should have expected this much from Choso. He wants to make sure everything is perfect.
"You looked up aftercare???" You sit up on the bed and a back cramp decides to hit right then and there. As soon as he hears your groan he sprints the the kitchen, only to return with a heat pad.
"Heat pad for cramps?" He's truly nervous, and eager to please you, the love of his life.
"Thank you, Cho. I'll take you up on that bath."
"Of course, I'll get in with you if that's okay." The smile on your face is enough of an answer.
Nanami Kento
YOU ARE WINNING!!!!
Massages, baths, homemade snacks, you name and he'll do it for you. In his mind it's the least he can do for you, because you treat him so well and give him that pretty pussy he loves so much.
"Right here?" He's currently working those skilled fingers into your tight muscles after bending you every which way.
"Ohhh... yes right there, baby. Hurts so muchhhh." You whine and moan at the same time. At this point you two have already bathed and he's made sure to moisturize your body leaving you clean and refreshed.
He seemed to notice the way you limped and asked if you need anything. The sex was good really, but you didn't want to tell him that folding you in half wasn't the best idea. Oh, but he's persistent would not leave you alone until you told him what was wrong.
Once you told him he had immediately sat you down, picked up your favorite lotion and started to work out the kinks in your body.
"I'm so sorry, again." He mumbles quietly.
"Stop apologizing, Kento. These things happen. At least I know to stretch before hand next time." His face softens at your giggles and he presses a small kiss to your thigh.
"Oh do not get me started." A smile creeps up his face, while blush slowly spreads across yours.
Toji Fushiguro
BOOOOOO no aftercare. well maybe not much at least.
Has not properly cared for a woman since his late wife but he realizes if he wants you to stay he'll have to fix that.
At first he would throw a wet rag at you and give a simple, "here clean up." When he got out the shower he was genuinely confused why you were no longer at his apartment.
As soon as you picked up he could tell you were pissed, "What do you want, Fushiguro."
He's a little shocked, did not expect that from you, "I'm your boyfriend so it's Toji and not Fushiguro. The hell is your problem??"
The silence is so loud. For a second he thought you'd hung up on him. "Hello??"
"I'm giving you some time to think about that dumbass question and figure out why I'm mad at you." He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes too. He's lucky you can't see it.
"Ugh, I don't have time to play the damn guessing game. You're always mad about the little things.. what is it?" He's running through anything he could have possibly done wrong recently.
"Toji, you threw a fucking wet washcloth at me and told me to clean myself up. I'm your girlfriend, not one of your one night stands!" There it is, and the bad part is he doesn't even see what's wrong with that. (at first)
"I don't even give them something to clean up with, I just leave. But damn if you want me to get all fancy and shit I'll try." He scratches his head and begins to wonder why women are so hard to please.
Let me tell you he's no Nanami, but it's getting better. Still falls asleep afterward most times tho :/
Geto Suguru
You do it yourself for the most part, and here's why.
He's over here washing you up in the tub and he can't stop staring at your soapy titties and it just leads to more sex.
It's never just aftercare with him. He's always chasing more. Like that time you asked him to massage your legs after you two had finished fucking in the tub.
"Yeah shit why not? Lotion or oil??" He asks looking through your products.
"Uhhh lotion's fine." You'd grabbed your phone to see if your mother left you a voicemail which she did. She talked about how you need to pick up the phone or at least text her your alive if you're not gonna pick up. You were NOT going to pick up earlier though. Suguru likes to tease and you learned that the hard way when he was eating you out while you were discussing group bonding dinner ideas with your boss over the phone.
Anyway, he made his way to the bed with your lotion and all things went to hell. It was slow at first, nothing too sensual, then of course he had to slip a finger in your pussy and you sat there and stared.
"We are not doing this, we just got out of the bath." You were so serious, but so was he. (you were also aroused so)
"Another bath never hurt anybody, 'fraid of a little water baby??"
(such an annoying whore)
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yuyusboyfriend · 5 months
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Sweet Dreams ☾˚✧
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pairing: best friend!wooyoung x reader
wordcount: 2k
content: Playing with your best friend's hair seems to do more to him than you think.
warnings: nsfw, slight somno, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, love, honey) afab!reader, no use of gendered pronouns but words like cunt, clit etc. are used, nipple play, cunnilingus, wooyoung is still a brat, lmk if im missing anything!
Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
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He squeezed your waist as you continued to brush his soft locks, letting out soft snores against your thigh. You swiped your finger over what he called his "dot", before returning to playing with his dark strands.
Wooyoung had been by your side since your first year of college, sitting down next to you on the first day; He purposely flicked his pencil onto your desk to distract you both from the task at hand.
"whatcha doing?" He said to you in a failed attempt at whispering. You gave him a quick side eye before returning to your work and dropping his pen on his desk.
"The work. I'm doing the work."
"Cool! Cool… what was the work again?" You finally give him a proper look at his face. Fuck, he's gorgeous. The mischievous grin he had plastered across his face was angelically evil and you could hardly tear your eyes away as you analysed his perfect features.
"Like something you see?" He ran his tongue against his top teeth as you stared back at him in now horror.
"What?" you yell, flustered and loud enough for a few classmates to whip their heads in your direction with a glare.
"My name's Wooyoung, you?" He-Wooyoung carried on as though nothing happened, as you noticed he was holding your phone and adding his number, texting himself so he could save yours.
"y/n, but what are you-" The professor announced the class was over and Wooyoung had already hopped out of his chair and walked to the exit, before turning around one last time,
"Talk soon, yeah?" He softly smiled at you and left.
That's what led you here, as his sleepy sounds echoed in the silence of your bedroom. The laptop that had been previously playing the movie you were watching on mute, careful not to wake him up. It was the last day of exams and you were both taking your well-deserved rest. Wooyoung looked so innocent in his slumber; long lashes resting on his smooth cheek, hands squeezing tighter around you occasionally as if he wasn't already close enough to you. He was so… kissable.
Fuck, you shouldn't be thinking about that - You had been trying your best to forget the silly flutter you felt in your chest when you thought about your best friend. You knew better to feel this way about Wooyoung, but every time he invaded your personal space, which was a lot, the ache in your stomach became worse with each touch. To say you were suffering right now would be an understatement.
"Mmhm…." Wooyoung hummed in his sleep, fidgeting against your outstretched leg under him. You stared at his lips as he huffed again.
"You having a dream woo?" You knew he was still too deep in his sleep to hear you, but you still hoped he would wake up and put you out of your misery. He shuffled against your leg again and squeezed you once more, rolling his hips slightly.
Was… was he hard?
"woo, seriously" he cut you off with a whimper against your waist, his jaw dropping open slightly to let the noise slip out onto you. Your muscles froze as he grinded on your leg, desperate for friction. You tried to escape the grip of the boy but as you shuffled away he only readjusted his tight hold on you and pulled you further down grinding into your inner thigh. You could feel yourself getting wet at the situation as well as the growing patch on your thigh from Wooyoung's precum leaking through his jogging bottoms.
"y/n, fuck" his sleepy form dug his nails into your lower back making you moan at the pain and pleasure, making you squirm enough to-
"y/n?" Wooyoung was looking up at your restless form, worry forming in his darkened eyes as he tried to halt the drag of his hips against your crotch. Your own body holding back the urge to push your hips up to him closing the minuscule gap between your heated bodies.
"Woo,
I'm sorry I should've woken you up-"
"y/n, please shut up for like two seconds" Wooyoung breathily whispers before reaching up to your face and lunging his lips against yours. His kiss was overflowing with desperation as he gripped the back of your neck to pull you towards his form, resuming his hips movements over your clothes. You could feel his head pressing down into your cunt through the stupid amount of layers separating your bodies.
"Fuck baby, you think I can get these off you?" Wooyoung whispered sweetly into your ear, snapping the waistband of your sweatpants and grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin under your ear. You tried to wriggle them off by yourself but Wooyoung wanted to hear your words.
"words baby." He peered through his long lashes.
"please Wooyoung."
"'Please Wooyoung' what?" Oh, what a bastard. He was getting off on being bratty despite his growing need in his pants getting harder by the second. Knowing Wooyoung meant you knew he wasn't gonna give up this fight no matter how in need he was.
"Woo take these off me right I swear to god" He snatched your sweatpants from your waist along with your undies and stuffed them in his pocket before you could finish your threat.
"Honey you're soaked, all from me rubbing up on you while I was asleep? that's dirty." his hoarse voice seeped through a wide grin. He dragged his thumb against your cunt, spreading your arousal to your sensitive clit.
"Shit! Wooyoung, please oh my god" you whined under his soft touch.
"Not God, love, I'm better" He gave you a wink before lowering his head to kiss down your thighs, each kiss nearing further to your aching cunt as you pleaded and begged him to end your suffering. Your hips lift as his lips latch around your clit, tongue moving expertly against it while he slides a digit into your begging hole. It wasn't enough. You needed him, his cock to fill you. As though he could hear your thoughts raging around your head, he takes his mouth off you for a second.
"I need you wet enough to take me, sweetheart, I can't go hurting you now can I?"
"Wooyoung I can take it you dickhead, please," You pant, tipping your head back.
"You're so impatient, can't even let me enjoy my meal" He huffed wiping his mouth, standing up to untie his sweats and rip them off, "You got a condom?" He looked at your bedside drawer and opened it before giving you a chance to answer. He closed his palm around a small silver vibrator and presented it to you.
"you think about me when you use this baby?" he bit his lip as he examined the toy, turning it on to feel the vibrations on his fingertips. "You probably touch yourself with this while whining my name under your breath, huh." You shivered under him at the filth spilling out of his mouth, your own words stuck in the back of your throat at the sight of him. You leant up to tug his shirt off of him, desperate to feel his skin against yours, thighs clenching together as your eyes take in his naked form.
"please." Your whimper was enough for Woo to reach back into the drawer and fish for a condom, finally pulling one out and ripping the foil with his teeth as his other hand busied itself massaging your thigh. He slipped the condom over his hard length, groaning at the feeling of how turned on he was and leaned over your form.
"you sure?" He looked into your eyes, looking for any doubt or concern and being met with nothing but lust and your love for the boy.
"Wooyoung, now please, please" He cut off your begs, his tip slapping against your clit and meeting the entrance of your cunt, pressing into you with a hard thrust. You knew he was big but the feeling of your hole being filled so well had you writhing under him at the stretch.
"shit woo, I'm gonna cum," You pant, not registering your blabbering.
"Then cum baby, but I'm not done with you yet," He nipped at the skin of your collarbone, leaving a trail of blooming marks on your skin that made you whine. He thrusts into you a few more times before feeling you clench around him, feeling your release leak onto his cock, not halting his movements. He rocked himself deep into you, slowly turning the feeling of overstimulation into mind-breaking pleasure. The way he slammed into you every few strokes brought you back to the reality of him burying his length in your wet cunt. All you could muster was a string of moans mangled with his name, the pleasure suffocating your ability to think comprehensibly.
"My cock making you forget your words, babe, ah, fuck you're so cute under me. " He ran his tongue along your sternum, before latching his mouth onto your aching nipple. Ludicrous noises of his mouth lapping at your skin, his lips leaving your nipple with a pop before moving to the other and repeating his actions. You could only moan in reply, wrapping one arm around the back of his head to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, the other dragging your nails across his back in a way that was sure to leave a few marks by the time you were done.
before you could process what was happening you heard a buzzing noise coming from the boy's hand, "Better give this a go shall we? wanna see you come undone again." Your eyes shot open as you felt the cold metal vibrator around your clit, Wooyoung running it up and down as to deny your your second orgasm for a bit longer while his own began to build. He snapped his hips into you harshly, still with a consistent rhythm despite him slowly losing a grip on his sanity being buried so deep in you. His cock managed to brush up on your g-spot with every slam making you see stars.
You felt the vibrations directly on your clit now, your screams filling your bedroom as he continued to drive into your aching cunt - with the extra stimulation you were on the edge of your orgasm, and Wooyoung was basking in your noises, hips movements growing more sloppy by the second. The dirty noises from the base of his cock meeting your soaked cunt mixed with your moans in the air had his eyes rolling back.
"Woo I'm gonna- I can't-"
"You gonna ah- you gonna come on my cock again? Do it, I know you can" He grunted into your ear, voice hoarser than before. Your cunt squeezed his aching member as you came around him once again, feeling the condom swell with his own release inside your sore walls. He continued to roll his hips into you, riding out your orgasms together till you were done.
He looked into your eyes, and to your lips before connecting them again. You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck to pull him in closer, desperate to be close to him still.
"I need to pull out and get you cleaned up love," He whispered to you as you protested, wanting to feel him in you for a bit longer. As he pulled out, you let out an airy moan, sighing at the loss of feeling full. Wooyoung tied the condom and tossed it in the trash before pulling his boxers up and leaving to get something to clean up with.
You watch the way he moved as he helped clean you up, before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
"Woo-"
"I love you y/n." You whip your head up to look at him, a little annoyed he just stole the words out from your mouth.
"I was gonna say that! You bastard i wanted to say i love you first!" He let out a high pitched laugh at your pouting face, before reaching to you and kissing you softly.
"You snooze you lose, love."
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oh my god i've wanted to write for woo so bad, its kind of shocking out of all the members I wrote woo as a dom but the heart wants what the heart wants❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 sorry for not posting in forever but I've had noooo motivation it's been ass 💔 thank you for reading !!!!
also this isn't proof read so most likely some mistakes 🙏
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hyuckiefluff · 10 months
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drunk in you | mark lee
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pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers word count: 1.9k ish warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, suggestive language, reader is down bad for mark (aren’t we all), implications of drunk sex summary: was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol. author's note: i’m backk!! srry for disappearing for *checks calendar* two months lol this has been sitting in my drafts since mark cut his hair aaand i wanted to post it for his bday so let’s pretend im not 3 days late! HAPPY BDAY MARKIEEE <33 it’s a bit short cuz i felt like i’d have to make a second part if i wanted to add smut to yknow fully get into it lol idk but consider this a little teaser and if it doesn’t flop I’ll post a second part :)
part 2
A sudden burst of bright light pierced through your closed eyelids, jolting you awake from the deep sleep you were in. As you gradually became aware of your surroundings, you couldn't ignore the soreness in your muscles and the strange stickiness between your legs. However, it was the foreign hand resting right on top of your ass that sent alarm bells ringing through your mind. Your eyes shot open, and regret instantly washed over you as a pulsating pain hammered at your head.
"What the fuck..." you groaned, attempting to focus your blurry vision and make sense of the situation. Upon looking around, you realized that you were in the guys' dorm, more specifically, in Mark's room...
Then it hit you like a ton of bricks.
If you were in Mark's room, then that hand... and the body it belonged to, had to be...
Oh my god, what happened last night?
8 hours earlier…
Drinking with your friends after a grueling week at uni wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. In fact, it'd be weirder if you were cooped up at home worrying about midterm grades instead of laughing your head off at whatever Jeno just blurted out. First sign that you were drunk, the boy wasn’t even that funny. His neck and ears were flushed crimson, a clear sign that he, too, had indulged in one too many drinks. And there was Jisung, practically glued to Jeno's side, oozing a whole lot of gooey affection that he would vehemently deny once he sobered up. 
Renjun and Haechan were locked in a heated argument on the floor, their voices rising in the air over some trivial matter that would probably be forgotten by morning. Surprisingly, though, they seemed to be the least intoxicated among you. 
Meanwhile, Jaemin was frantically rummaging through the kitchen, his frustrated groans and curses echoing throughout the room. It was clear that his search for more alcohol was proving to be a fruitless endeavor.
Beside you, Chenle was on his phone, engrossed in a replay of the Warriors game. At first glance he doesn’t look drunk, but you knew better. If he were truly sober, he'd be shouting and cursing at his phone screen, venting his frustrations as his beloved team struggled to keep up. Instead, he was lazily sipping from his nearly empty cup while his glossed over eyes remained glued to the screen.
Mark Lee was the only one missing from the group. You sent him a few voice messages letting him know that if he didn’t arrive in the next 10 minutes you would eat his portion of the kimchi jiggae you’d ordered earlier. He responded within seconds with a funny GIF that showed a man running and tripping.
Mark stumbled through the door just a few minutes later. He was soaked from head to toe, his hoodie covering most of his head. He was panting and his shoes were muddy and wet, he got rid of them in the entrance and looked up, clearly out of breath.  But you were already stuffing your face with his food anyways. Whoops. 
Though as soon as he pulled down the hood a chunk of food went down the wrong pipe. You coughed uncontrollably, your chest heaving as you desperately tried to regain your breath.
"Dude!! Are you seriously eating my food?" he exclaimed.
But when he noticed your struggling state, his words trailed off, replaced by genuine worry. "Yo, are you good?" he asked, walking closer to you and patting you in the back.
You managed to nod weakly, staring up at him. 
"Why’re you so late? Oh, new haircut?" Haechan chimed in from the floor.
"Yeah... what's the verdict?" Mark asked, turning his head to the side to better show off the lines of his undercut, his gaze lingering on you. 
So many thoughts raced through your mind but you were unable to form a single word. Mark had had long hair for quite some time now, and it was you who had encouraged him to let it grow. You enjoyed styling it, braiding it, and adorning it with charms—Mark gave you the freedom to do whatever you pleased with his hair. You had grown fond of his long hair, especially after helping nurse it back to health from the damage caused by bleaching and dyeing. Yet now he was sporting short hair and an undercut with edgy designs on the side, and you couldn't help but openly ogle at him. 
He looked hot as fuck.
It’s true that you harbored feelings for Mark that went beyond friendship but you were always able to hide it well and it worked out better this way for both of you (or that’s what you liked to believe). Needless to say you liked him a lot and had for a while so the sight of his new look had sent your emotions spiraling. He showed up merely minutes ago and you already felt so weak at the knees and your brain was fuzzy even though you hadn’t drank that much yet.
"Don't like it," you muttered, hoping your words would deflect attention from the clear shift in your expression. Turning around, you sought refuge on the couch next to Chenle, placing the bowl of food aside. Your stomach was turning weirdly, making it impossible to swallow another bite.
You scolded yourself inwardly for being so dramatic. It was just a haircut. But, god, he looked so good.
In an attempt to calm yourself down, you chugged your cup with soju and let out a big groan after emptying it. The sound catching Chenle’s attention as he peered curiously from his phone. You offered him a closed-lip smile, prompting an intrigued eyebrow raise from him.
Mark was awkwardly standing on the same spot. He was a bit taken aback by your sudden coldness. He definitely picked up on your strange reaction the moment he walked through the door. But he brushed it off.
"Okaay… Well I was late 'cause I was getting the good stuff," Mark explained, his frown replaced by a grin as he pulled out a beer from the bags he was carrying.
"Let's goooo!" Jaemin yelled, returning from the kitchen right on cue as if he some sort of alcohol detector. He eagerly snatched the bags from Mark and made a kissy face to the boy.
The tension eased a bit with Jaemin's infectious enthusiasm, and you decided to not focus on whatever Mark was making you feel right now. The drinks were here, and the good times were about to roll. You made a mental note to sort out your feelings later.
~
Alcohol definitely did not make your situation better. The more you drank the harder it was to keep your thoughts at bay. Mark was now sitting on the single couch in front of you and every little expression or movement he made had you either biting your lip or pressing your thighs together.
Talking about thighs… the shorts he was wearing displayed his muscular legs in a way that was making it quite impossible for you to not devour them with your eyes. God, your brain had turned into that of a hormonal teenage boy. Were you seriously staring at his thighs and imagining how it would feel to ride them?
Haechan came over to you and filled your glass with more Soju. You downed it as soon as he was done pouring it, earning you a weird look from Chenle who had been eyeing you ever since Mark arrived. 
"Okay, what's with you?" Chenle mumbled, the words escaping his lips just loudly enough to capture everyone's attention. Considering you had the noisiest group of friends, all eyes turned your way, including Mark's.
Mark seemed to be getting tipsy; you could tell by the way his big, expressive eyes shimmered even more than usual and the faint blush that adorned his cheeks and neck.
"Hmm?" you managed to reply, your gaze still fixated somewhere on Mark's face. You were completely unaware of the intense amount of attention you were giving him, but Chenle, who was relatively more sober than both of you, picked up on it.
"You're literally looking at Mark like you want to eat him," Chenle chuckled, teasingly calling you out.
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Renjun asked, suddenly intrigued by the topic.
"I am?" you replied, sounding genuinely confused, though your heart raced with thoughts you were about to voice out loud. "Uhm… yeah I kinda do..."
An audible gasp followed, and you knew without looking that it came from Haechan.
Mark's expression remained unreadable, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, revealing no discernible emotions. Was he weirded out? Normally, you might have felt self-conscious about blurting out something like that, but alcohol had significantly lowered your inhibitions.
"That's a wild thing to say," Haechan interjected with a mix of shock and amusement. "Do you actually wanna tap that?" He pointed at Mark, who was still gazing at you.
"Very much so," you replied nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, even though you were openly talking about hooking up with your best friend in front of all your other best friends.
"Why don't you come here then?" Mark's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice the way he shifted, his legs spread invitingly.
You burst into laughter assuming he was only joking to tease you. However, the lack of a reaction from him made you realize he was dead serious. Your eyes locked on his own, reflecting the same desire you had been giving him just moments ago.
The idea of getting up and walking to him, straddling his lap, and kissing him flashed through your mind.
But the moment was interrupted by a voice that snapped both of you out of your trance. "Gross!" Jisung whined, hiding his face in Jeno's back, the older one lazily laughing and patting Jisung's thigh. "Okay, c'mon, I think we've all had enough to drink," he declared, getting up, with Jisung clinging to him. Chenle follow suit also giving you two a slightly disgusted stare.
"Yeah, one more drink for me, and I'm afraid the kimchi jiggae I had earlier might end up all over the carpet," Haechan chimed in, rubbing his stomach before disappearing upstairs.
Renjun also stood up and playfully messed up Mark's hair while saying, "By the way, happy birthday."
You glanced at the table clock and realized it was already 12:01. You had been so excited about Mark's birthday earlier in the day, but the alcohol and the tension between the two of you made you totally forget about it. Gathering your courage, you approached him. He remained sprawled with his legs out, but now he looked up at you, his lips slightly wet, distracting you momentarily.
"Happy birthday, silly," you smiled and awkwardly patted his head, hoping he didn't notice how you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the uncomfortable ache between your legs.
"What did you get me?" he suddenly asked, and you blinked a few times, your brain struggling to register the extremely flirtatious tone he used.
When you didn't respond immediately, he continued, "Because I can think of one thing I want the most right now," lightly grazing your leg with his hand. You didn't flinch or move away.
"R-really? What is it?" you found yourself stuttering, a reaction that would have made you cringe if you were more sober.
"Come here, and I'll show you," he smirked and with little protest from you, he pulled you onto his lap.
a/n: i have a smut scene ready for this (well it’s in my brain but I’ll squeeze it out if u guys want that second part) soooo comment or simply like this so i know the audience wants it
also yes i did change the title of this but pls disregard that lol
© hyuckiefluff
part 2
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sturnsreader · 5 months
Text
scars
TW: self harm
!! requested by @sturns-posts !!
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౨ৎ ⋆。˚
“y/n?” you heard your boyfriend, matt, call from upstairs. you sighed and made your way up stairs to find matt on his laptop. you walked around the corner and smiled walking up to him.
“yes matty?” you asked cheerfully.
“are you okay?” he asked sounding concerned.
“yeah, why?” you asked confused at by the sudden worry.
“well, im just worried about you.” he sighed. you noticed that he kept looking back down to his computer screen to making glances at your arms.
“you would tell me if you weren't, right?” he asked.
you gulped wondering what he knew.
“yes, baby, please dont worry about it.” you nodded quickly before turning back to go downstairs.
he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his arms playing with your hair.
“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again repeating himself. you nodded into his chest before he pulled you back leading you into his room. he didn’t say a word, just sat you on his bed and opened up the screen. on the left hand side of the screen was a recent picture of you in mcdonalds that a camera man had taken, on the right hand side was the same photo just zoomed into your wrist. your scars visible for the world to see. you read the headline over and over in your head sighing.
'HAS TWITTER TROLLS PUSHED MATTHEW STURNIOLO’S GIRLFRIEND OVER THE EDGE?'
“what is this? you told me you stopped a while ago and if you felt like that you were going to tell me. did i do something wrong?” he asked pointing to your wrist on the screen with teary eyes. you couldn't speak, your whole throat had closed up.
he noticed and pulled you onto his lap staring into your stinging eyes.
“i love you so much and i want nothing but for you to be the happiest girl ever. i let anyone hurt you. whether they're old or new, i don't care because i'm here for you now and i always will be." he smiled before kissing your forehead softly. a tear escaped your eye making you smile.
“we don't have to talk about this now, whenever you're ready.” he smiled resting your head onto his chest as he wiped the tears off.
| 2 hours later |
“hey, i know you wanted to go to the cabin back in massachusetts, so were going with nick and chris tomorrow morning!” he said with a smile while tucking your hair behind your ear.
“baby, you didn’t have to”
“shh, i wanted to.” he said as he hugged you around the waist.
you waited at least 10 seconds before letting go. matt’s hugs were the most comforting thing ever. “can you help me pack, please.”
matt shook his head up and down with a big smirk while grabbing your hand and walking downstairs to the bedroom.
“oh, how long are we staying.”
“since were with nick and chris we are staying for a week and a half, but soon we can go alone.”
he was digging through the closet trying to find a bag big enough before you made him stop.
“i love you so much.”
“i love you more, my love” you could tell he meant it. “we are going down to nick and chris’s house tomorrow morning at 4 am. i know its early but i want to get there earlier, if its okay with you.” he said right after he found a perfect suitcase to fit all your stuff.
| two days later |
“hey babe i was scrolling through things to do here and there is a tattoo parlor like five minutes away from us can we PLEASE get tattoos together!” nick said excitedly.
“shut up you have been rambling about tattoos the whole time we-“ chris said as you cut him off.
“nick i would LOVE to get a tattoo with you and i know exactly what i want. follow me!” you said as you go to find matt in the store.
“im getting a tattoo with nick and i just want you to draw stars around my scars.” you say while going through your purse to find a pen.
matt looks at you in awe as he takes the marker and draws the cutest stars ever. you start to tear up. you look up at him as he concentrates on drawing them all.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚
not my best work but i tried 🥲🥲
i hope you enjoyed and if you have anything you need to talk about message me! i love you guys sm🩷.
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empressgetou · 1 year
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YOU'RE MINE, I'M YOURS
boyfriend senku x reader
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hours after both of suika and y/n who went across to shore to the island where senku and the others were supposed to be. luckily for them ryusui managed to throw suika overboard who was cleaning the docks and y/n who was nearby the kid just in time for the petrification by a second.
y/n stayed behind the island to look for senku as suika went back to the ship to check up on the others and just as night the night falls ibarra and kirisame's group came checking up on the ship making the woman worried about the poor girl on her own in the ship.
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"the lab!" echoed through the island.
i recognized that voice anywhere, kohaku! senku and the others must be near. as i look up on the side of the island there they were in a gather with a few people i don't recognized, i was about to ran up to them then i saw kohaku kissing senku...
KISSING SENKU??
i was never the type to be the "im jealous" girlfriend, even before the petrification my relationship with senku is actually great than the usual couples around. that's because he never gave me a reason to over something minor. sure, i may or may not have been a little jealous over the whole marriage thing that was set up with ruri back a few months but that was in the past and now i see this? boy you better have an explanation to this too or i might cut your–
i ran fast as i could to catch up, as i can already see the mobile lab who im assuming suika managed to drive through up to the mountains. as soon as the vehicle stopped they too have stopped their tracks and managed to spot me in my place.
"y/n! you're here! you weren't petrified?" gen asked surprisingly and his eyes went to the leek head whom im not naming.
"nahh ryusui managed to throw me into the ocean just in time with suika" i laughed a little remembering a few hours ago how pissed off i was thinking he has even the audacity to throw us like we're a rock or something but im glad ryusui did managed to save us.
"kekeke somehow i had a feeling you survived that thing though i never expected you'd be here on the island" senku already on my side and had a little smirk on. oh how i wanna punch that handsome face so bad right now.
i rolled my eyes, "course i did. m'not really and idiot ya know." i smirked back.
"good job, you two!" praised senku.
we managed to get out of the villagers hair and went to the underwater cave to hide in the meantime while we prepare in infiltrating the harem and well that includes getting kohaku ready for the act.
"the ingredients are simple!"
"honey, lemon and coconut?"
"ahhh you're making a conditioner?"
"that's ten billion points for you, my dearest!" senku pointed at me as if ive won the lottery.
"you mind leaving me some for my hair?"
and then here's amaryllis having the greatest idea i never would've thought i'd come up with. but men dressing as women? specially senku? i never thought i'd see the day.
"pftt"
"yeah, yeah laugh it while you can honey. you don't know what's coming next for ya." he said while having an obvious annoyed face.
gen however pulled it off but his height was a bit much for an average girl. then there's soyuz, yeah i dont even wanna explain how he looks. and then lastly ginro, well he passed, perfection i might add.
"well that's that. obviously we know who is coming to the harem" i said as i was about to go back to the mobile lab, kohaku spoke.
"we're not done yet y/n, you're next!" and managed to pull me to her side.
"waittt! im not–"
"no buts! come on, you're a candidate yourself if i say so myself plus we could totally infiltrate the harem without a problem if both of you and me work together inside."
"ughhh nooo i don't wanna. too much workkk"
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kohaku and amaryllis managed to dress up y/n nicely and while doing so senku's eyes never left her figure and her hair specially. he realized that y/n never actually leave her hair down just like before the petrification maybe because they were always busy working back at the village it would be distracting having her long wavy hair in the way, he only saw her hair down whenever she'd take a bath by the river and whenever she would sleep beside him. amaryllis also put make up on y/n and it definitely just made her even more beautiful and vibrant much to senku's pleasure. he was falling all over again.
"looking good there", he complimented
"thanks. i thought you'd never notice", y/n sarcastically said.
"been a while since i've had make up on too. does it look weird?" she asked worriedly.
"nahh you're good. you're beautiful." he said almost whispering.
"alrightyyy y/n, you're coming with us right?", kohaku asked
"huh? but i'm not really needed there right? hehe", y/n tried to convince her friend.
before y/n and her group went to the harem selection she managed to get inside the mobile lab and talked to senku.
"so i was thinking since ya' know could be a few days or weeks before we'd succeed in the infiltration but i just wanna clarify something." fiddling her hands thinking maybe she just misunderstood what kohaku did to his boyfriend.
"yeah, got something to say before you leave me here all alone?" senku joked still doing his science work.
"i saw kohaku kissed you last night." and went silent, it made y/n think maybe she was stupid to even conclude at that idea.
"ah yeah she did"
"what! why?"
"easy tiger, that was unexpected for me as well, we have to get a distraction from the enemy. gen's fault he included me."
silence again.
"but i guess that made you uncomfortable huh?" she nodded still fiddling her fingers.
he saw this and went to holding her close.
"m'sorry if it made you feel bad, i take full responsibility of how you're feeling right now. tell you what i'll give gen an earful about that and maybe after this whole infiltration thing, we spend time more together after, hmm?" trying to apologize the woman.
"mmm, i see.."
"i understand i just want to know why it had to be done." she said faintly smiling.
"m'sorry if you understood that way. there's nothing going on. m'still yours forever and always" he tried to cheer up.
she then hugged him and he immediately reciprocated. silence engulfing them once again while enjoying the company of each other.
"i love you"
"me to honey. i love you so damn much. i'm yours. okay?" reassuring her and gently pushing his lips into her sweet candy flavored ones.
masterlist
"mmm, you're mine and i'm yours" she giggled.
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myluvrrhea · 10 days
Text
— Girl Of My Dreams |R.Ripley
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Request - Would you consider writing judgement day or rhea Ripley x reader [platonic but can be romantic if you prefer that] And basically the reader gets betrayed by their tag team partner, and obviously they are devastated because they were really close (think like liv4brutality, for example) — @princessthatcantfuckingsleep 💞
Song for this fic — Girl of my dreams :: Guti
Pairings - Rhea Ripley x Fem!Wrestler!Reader
Warnings — R!getting punched, passing out, crying, Angst + Fluff, Rhea comforting you in the end 🩷 [Lemme know if I missed any]
You looked up at Shayna. She had been your tag team partner for about 5 months. Everything was going smoothly until you two lost the only title chance you guys would have for a while. 
The anger on Shayna’s face told it all. She sneered as she looked down at your broken figure. 
“Why did you tap out? You knew this was the only title chance we have.” She spat at you. 
You knew she was enraged when she combed her fingers through her hair. The same angered expression staying the entire time.
“Look Shayna im sorry— It was just too painful you know-“ You were cut off by a punch. You were dumbfounded, as you put your hand on your forehead. Tears threatening to spill.
Shayna gave you a few more punches before walking out of the ring. A cold expression painting her face. The pain was unbearable. Not only were you hurt, but embarrassed. You knew she would be mad about the loss. But this — this was unexpected.
The camera panned on your tearstained face. The pain clear as day in your expression.
“THIS IS MY BRUTALITY”
The crowd erupted into cheers hearing Rhea’s theme. Ready for what would happen next.
Y/N’s POV
I looked up as I heart the infamous theme song, of Rhea Ripley.
“Well lady’s and gentleman’s we have a sudden visit from non other than Rhea ripley, who has been women’s world champion for a while now. Seemingly undefeated. But what is she doing here?” I heard Michael Cole comment. I was just as confused as everyone else was.
I saw Rhea holding her title as she ran over to the ring, sliding in. I looked up at her standing figure. She scooped me up into her arms. I felt my vision growing blurry, and before I could talk my vision had gone black.
No ones POV
“It appears Y/N has passed out in the arms of the seemingly terrifying, Rhea Ripley.” Michael commented the worry evident in his voice.
Everyone in the arena watched as Rhea carried you backstage. Her title on her shoulder and a worried expression painting her face.
As soon as Rhea had gone backstage people crowded the halls trying to check on you. You had been a favorite to many of the wrestlers. Your bubbly and energetic made you loved by many. And when people saw what had happened— they felt scared and worried about you.
You had a dark purple bruise on your lip and forehead. Rhea had been yelling for everyone to move out the way. She was enraged because of what Shayna did to you. Although She had done the same thing to liv. 
“She needs help move over,” She spoke with an attitude. Pushing pasted the crowds of worried crew members and wrestlers. 
Once she sat you down on the medical bed, she quickly yelled at the medic to help you quickly. Her worry and anger pilling up inside her.
YOUR POV
I squinted my eyes adjusting to the white lights flashed at me. I opened my eyes and tried sitting up, soon feeling a stinging pain on my shoulder. I heard yelling next to me a familiar deep aussie accent.
“Do you not understand she needs help. Look at her look at the condition shes in,” Rhea spoke, pointing down at me. 
She. Was.  Pissed.
“I know ma’am but she’s-“ the medic was cut off by Rhea. 
“No, no “buts” she needs help cant you see-“ 
“Rhea?” I cut rhea off while sitting up. Pain taking over my body. I was confused on why Rhea had carried me backstage. Better yet why she was still here.
Rhea turned to look at me, a small smile forming on her face. 
“Hey, are you feeling any better?” She asked me. It seemed like her mood had taken a 360. The anger she had from before had faded off.
“My head and arms still hurt, but I think I’ll do just fine,” I answered flashing her a sad smile back. We sat in silence for a moment before I spoke again.
“It just hurts what Shayna did to me. I just thought she was different,” I looked up at rhea tears pooling my eyes. 
“It’s gonna be alright. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll be your tag team partner. The fans will love it,” Rhea sat onto the medical bed, pressing a kiss on my forehead. 
“Thank you.” I spoke.  bearying  my head into her neck.
“No problem. Ill always be here for you.” Rhea replied, laying her head onto yours.
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A/N — @princessthatcantfuckingsleep thank you for requesting <33 im still getting to other requests at the moment so expect for more to come 💞
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munson-blurbs · 8 months
Note
i am alrREADY SENDING IN MY REQUEST SO I DONT FORGET AND I NEED THIS
Peanut Butter Cup - Nerds
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IM SO EXCITED.
Fake dating/Bookworm!Reader/Steve Harrington
Warnings: fake dating, Harrington familial dysfunction, drunk family members
WC: 1.1k
Divider credit to @saradika
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Steve had heard it all from his parents:
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?”
“Just go out on a date, Steven.”
“You spend all damn day at that video store; you’re never gonna meet anyone that way.”
He normally shrugs it off, until his parents give him an ultimatum: get a girlfriend before the annual Harrington Family Reunion in two weeks, or don’t bother showing up at all. 
“Twenty years old, and you barely passed high school, work a dead-end job, and don’t even have a girlfriend,” his father mutters, disgust marring his features. “You’re a disappointment.”
The insult reverberates around his skull all day: disappointment, disappointment, disappointment. It’s not the first time his father has hurled the term his way, and it likely won’t be the last, but the impact continues to sting.
It’s still gnawing at him when you walk in the door, sliding a VHS copy of The Shining across the counter with a bashful smile.
“Sorry, I know it’s a day late,” you apologize, already digging into your bag for change. “How much is the fee?”
Steve dismisses the notion with a wave. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, already checking the movie back into the system. “You, uh, went to Hawkins High, right?”
“Mhm,” you confirm, zipping up your purse and hitching it back up your shoulder, “class of ‘86.”
“‘85,” he chirps, clearing his throat to temper his enthusiasm. “Anyway, hope the movie was good.”
You nod and smile again; the gentle upturn of your lips has Steve melting. “It was. The book was better, though.”
And that’s when Steve finally places you: back in high school, you volunteered at the school library and, on more than one occasion, had helped him find a book for research projects. You were pretty then, and you’re even prettier now.
“I haven’t read the book,” he admits, embarrassed that he hasn’t read much of anything besides a comic book or two since graduation. 
Your jaw drops. “Well, now you have to!” You grab your car keys from your back pocket. “I’ll swing by tomorrow with my copy, if that’s cool?”
“Y-Yeah, ‘s cool,” he stutters, giving his head a soft shake to shift the hair from his hazel eyes. He watches as you walk out of the store, the sway of your hips drawing him in. 
He probably would have stared forever if Robin hadn’t cut in. “Hey, Dingus, you’re drooling.”
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You stop by Family Video the next day to drop off the book. And then a few days after that, you go there again to grab another movie. Soon enough, you’re a regular customer.
“Can I ask you for a favor?” Steve blurts out from where he’s standing next to you as you peruse the horror section. “Feel free to say no, to tell me to fuck off, and I will. I will just…fuck right off.”
“Shoot.”
“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend at my family reunion next weekend? Nothing weird,” he rushes to add, not wanting to imply any unwanted contact. “Just hand holding, arm around your shoulder…no feels will be copped, I swear.”
You pinch your eyebrows, perplexed. “Is this the trade-off for having my late fee waived?” you tease, thumbing The Exorcist and tugging it from its spot on the shelf. “Because I’ll pay it.”
Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, just tired of hearing my folks complain about me not having my life together. Figured if I showed up with a smart, pretty girl on my arm, they’d shut up for a little while.”
Your face burns at the compliments, both at the words and that King Steve is the one saying them. “What’s the dress code?”
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You and Steve arrive in his Beemer, his hand already pressed to the small of your back as you walk into the restaurant. A room filled with Harringtons greet you as you enter the room, and your stomach flips as you wonder if you can pull this off.
“Showtime,” Steve murmurs in your ear, taking you around the room to meet his family. You’re suddenly self-conscious of where your black dress lands on your thighs and the cut of the neckline. Sure, Steve had approved it, but what did he know?
You note that he’s been gazing at you since he’d picked you up earlier, eyes drawn to you like a magnetic force. It’s part of the whole bit, you try and convince yourself, but something nags at you that Steve isn’t that good of an actor.
The conversations go as easily as they can; you spend the evening peppering in “facts” about your relationship that you and Steve had rehearsed over and over. Some of the details were truthful, like meeting at Family Video and bonding over horror movies. Other parts were much more embellished: relationship duration, your first date, the way Steve bragged that you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on.
It’s smooth sailing until Steve’s inebriated father stands up, clumsily clinking his knife to his wine glass. “I’d like to make a toast,” he slurs, swaying as he speaks, “to my son, Steve, and his girl! Never thought I’d see the day he’d land someone like her.”
Your eyes remain glued to the floor, waiting for the moment to be over, but if the impromptu speech wasn’t awkward enough, one of Steve’s equally drunk uncles calls out, “Give her a kiss, Stevie!”
Steve shakes his head with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Nah, we’re not really into the public–”
“Aw, c’mon!” His boisterous voice echoes throughout the restaurant. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” he chants, and soon enough, most of the family joins in.
“Shall we shut them up?” Steve mumbles, turning to you. “Y’don’t have to…”
“N-No, we can.” It’s not the most conventional first kiss, but then again, nothing about this arrangement is normal. “We can just…”
Steve’s hand is on your cheek, nose nudging against yours as your lips press together. This isn’t a simple peck; no, it’s far more involved, more intimate, than you had anticipated.
You melt into him a bit more, resting your own hand on his bicep until the kiss comes to an end. The men hoot and holler; the women exchange awws.
“Now that,” Steve’s dad guffaws, clapping a hand on his son’s back, “is the kiss of true love!”
You manage a small smile, wondering exactly what just happened. The kiss was the best of your life, and it was supposedly just for show.
Steve’s breath tickles your earlobe as he whispers, “he may be drunk, but he’s not wrong.” His cheeks are pink at the admission.
It’s certainly a conversation you’ll need to have later, but you can’t say you disagree. For now, your fingers intertwine with his, and you give them a quick squeeze. 
Maybe it’s the wine, but you swear you love him back.
--
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tygoii · 1 year
Text
Sub Scaramouche x Goddess Afab Reader Smut
Warning: Dacraphilia, Dom Afab Reader, Brat Scaramouche, Boobsession, Edging, Collar, Cockwarming, Humiliation
“Oh please i’m gonna fuck you up you’ll be begging me to stop” said an indigo haired short boy “..You wanna challenge me?” said a woman who opened her eyes showing her eyes pupil shaped four pointed star shaped “Yea because you keep ignoring me every time thinking your better only because your a god!” said Scaramouche his face red due to anger the woman sighed “and if i win what do i get?” said the woman she stopped floating and her heels touched the ground she was taller then the boy “Ha really im in the status to being a god myself!” said Scaramouche smirking the woman sighed “Brat.” said Y/n “What did you say.” said Scaramouche “I said your a brat seeking for attention.” said Y/n looking at the short boy the indigo hair boy mumbled something making the woman smirk “I’m sorry i couldn’t hear you from how short you are” said Y/n “Are you changing the subject so you don’t have to fight me how pathetic.” said Scaramouche “Oh you were being serious?” said Y/n she summoned a sword and pointed it at Scaramouche “Gine if that is what you desire.” said Y/n Scaramouche smirked summoning a catalyst “Don’t worry if you want me to stop just beg.” said Scaramouche he raised his fist and electricity surrounded Y/n bolts shot out Y/n raised her hand suddenly the bolts were gone she threw her sword at Scaramouche nearly hitting his face but only made a small cut on his cheek Scaramouche groaned he summoned more electricity at Y/n she hits the boy with a energy bolt Scaramouche fell on his knees he looked up seeing the woman standing unfazed “I won little boy.” said Y/n smiling the boy blushed for some reason he felt some kind of excitement built up “I won i get to choose anything~” said Y/n she
bent down to scara and she had a leash in her hands Scara whimpered feeling Y/n’s hot breath on his neck “I wonder what the harbingers would think about you on your knees so needy for attention isn’t that the reason why you wanted to fight~” said Y/n Scara’s cheeks were red and he was trying to protest but the only thing that came out was a whimper “I-i don’t wanna go out in public like this!..” whined Scara “Well that’s what you get for challanging a goddess” said Y/n the boy’s head fell onto Y/n’s chest and muffled cries could be heard “No no no!” said Scara he looked at Y/n hoping she would have mercy “Don’t look at me with those eyes now let’s get going if your a good boy i’ll give you a good treat~” said Y/n the boy stopped complaining but had a frown on his face he teased Y/n’s nipple making her whimper she looked at the boy before pinning him to the floor “Ok that’s it wait til we get home.” said Y/n.
“P-please hiccup ahh! m-mommy!” Scara was babbling he wanted to cum so bad but every time Y/n felt he was close she would stop teasing him “I told you to behave but you didn’t listen” said Y/n rubbing his red tip “y-you f-fuckin— hng!” Scara couldn’t even form a sentence he was to busy feeling Y/n’s tight walls hug his dick “P-pweees! Y-y/n” Scara kept begging for release but Y/n wasn’t having it Scara tried thrusting into her but he was tied by some kind of barrier Y/n pulled on his leash making him stop “I-i swear when i gwet my h— hah!” Scara felt Y/n’s pussy tighten around him “Well it’s been a hour i guess you do deserve to cum~” said Y/n she started riding Scaramouche’s dick making him whimper and roll his eyes his chest marks glowed purple before coming inside her Y/n snapped her fingers Scaramouche was soon released and he hugged her laying his head on her soft tiddies and giving kitten licks “Now don’t challenge me again i will have you babbling nonsense.” said Y/n Scaramouche nodded his eyes closing and cuddling closer to Y/n still inside her.
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girl-failure · 28 days
Text
Transwoman needs answers
this isnt an easy post to write and it's going to be full of info about me that's personal and embarassing but I am desperate for answers and assitance so please bear with me. Long story short, im almost 3 years hrt (may 19th will be exact) and it's like nothing has changed. More info under the cut.
I'm going to try and explain everything to the best of my memory, but exact dosages and stuff might be fuzzy and inexact. I began HRT on May 19th 2021, when I was 22. I took one and a half 2mg pills, twice (morning and night) daily. I took them sublingually. I was also prescribed Spironolactone, though the exact dose escapes me (i remember it was 1 pill nightly). I had only come out as trans in the December the previous year, so i considered myself unfathomably lucky to get to start so soon. I had done this through informed consent at a planned parenthood and was excited by the possibility of a future where my own body didn't make me want to die. The idea of changing my body gave me a feeling of control in my life that had been entirely absent until that point. I knew I wanted all the help I could get with breast development (the women in my immediate family are well endowed) and I had read & heard from other trans women that prog could help, but I'd have to wait to ask for it.
I think it was on December 15, 2021, I was officially prescribed 100 progesterone nightly. At this point I had began to notice softer skin, lighter hair, the few bits of acne left over from high school had gone entirely, and the inklings of breasts beginning to form. My libido had all but dissipated entirely at that point, but I was told (mostly by other trans women) it would come back, especially after starting prog, and that my body would likely experience pleasure differently, and that my orgasm would be very different. The fat from my stomach (i wasn't overweight or underweight, i was pretty average for a man my height, but I did have a masculine stomach I despised) hadn't relocated at all, but I knew HRT wasn't a sprint, but a marathon, and I had a long way to go. This continued for a long time, eventually i would be bumped up to two 2mg of E (sublingual pill) twice daily (8mg total), and my Spiro would change to 200mg a day EDIT: My Spiro dosages did fluctuate, though again I don't recall the exact dosages, (I initially got it confused with my prog dosage, sorry), though there was the occasional few week period where I'd be bumped back down to one and a half E pills because I had timed my blood-work poorly. It had been a while since starting HRT and I was starting to worry. My libido never came back, I was unable to feel the sensation of pleasure entirely, my breasts & nipples never became sensitive or had growth pains, and my breasts really hadn't grown at all. My stomach still made me feel awful and masculine because fat continued to pile up there instead of in the feminine places I was told and led to believe it should!!! I was scared and frightened and upset. I'd say I developed an eating disorder but my eating was already disordered. I was afraid of food. Afraid it'd just make me look manly, instead of going to my hips/waist/whatever and breasts like it was supposed to. I began to feel like the hrt that was supposed to save my life was just making me feel worse.
On October 23rd, 2023, I finally started seeing a doctor again after 9 years of not being able to afford it, and only then because a parent got insurance through their work. I was officially prescribed Estradiol Valerate (.3mL intramuscular, and the bottle itself is 20mg/mL) , and quit Spiro outright. Now that I was talking to a doc, especially one who had been working with trans people in my area for years, I was starting to have hope again that maybe injections would solve my problems. After all, they're supposed to be more powerful right? Well after some blood-work revealing that my T levels were so low they were undetectable, we started fiddling with my injection dosages. I went down to .25mL. Nothing changed. I went down to .2ml. Nothing changed. I stayed at .2mL and was prescribed a med called EstraTest (.625mg E and 1.25mg T), a single pill which has both E and T in it, to try and raise my T levels back to measurable levels and hopefully find that golden ratio of E and T where maybe my body will start working again and start changing. But that brings us today. I still don't feel any sensation of pleasure (masturbating is pointless, intimacy just feels like I'm disappointing my partner), let alone a female orgasm (which as embarrassing as it is to admit, I was really looking forward to), my nipples still don't get sensitive and my chest doesn't get sore or get growing pains. My breasts look the same way they did 4 months into hrt. I've still had practically no fat redistribution, though I've gotten better about eating and not being afraid of food. I'm even beginning to notice my acne slowing starting to come back. I feel like I'm losing my mind. Why has nothing worked? Why does it feel like I'm regressing? I lost my health insurance earlier this week, and I can't afford to see my doctor again with my dumb pizza delivery job, so I haven't been able to ask to try anything more drastic to try and fix these issues. My current theories are that maybe my body is just more resistant to E? Which would be awful, but might be handled by just tripling my dose or something? Or
that my receptors are fried, and that the only solution would be to stop taking my HRT for a while (maybe even a long while). I pray that isn't the case, because I'd sooner off myself then let my body regress any further.
So this is a call for help. If anyone has any idea what could be causing these problems for me, or knows how I might be able to fix them, PLEASE let me know. I've lost hope in having a future as a woman, or even just feeling apathy towards my body (instead of intense self-loathing) at this point.
Here's my ca$happ if anyone wants to throw some money my way and maybe I'll be able to see the doctor again. cash.app/$occultChloe
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bueckerslover · 3 months
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Does she even exist? - c. sturniolo
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warnings: mentions of abuse and death, cursing
this will be from chris’s perspective (takes place when he’s 17-18 years old then it jumps till when he’s older at least 21-22) street names are made up! (they’re not famous in this)
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late night walks weren’t really my thing but tonight i felt like i really needed one especially to get an energy drink from the gas station a few blocks away from my house.
i felt my phone buzz looking down at it i see it’s a message from nate deciding ill read it later i check the time 1:45 am, shit i needed to get to the gas station before anyone notices i’m gone.
as i walked the streets the cool boston air hitting my face making my cheeks and nose turn a slight pink color, from the distance i can see the lights of the gas station.
at the corner of the gas station where the lights are dim a girl around my age is standing there alone she kept looking around as if she was looking for something or someone.
“hey, is everything alright?” i asked her my voice seeming to grab her attention as she slightly jumped “yes, i’m alright! sorry i’m just looking for my boyfriend” she spoke softly still looking around “is he in the store? maybe i could go get him or something” i spoke pointing at the store behind her.
“oh no! he’s at work but he should be getting here soon since he got off at 1:30.” she explained looking down at her watch i pulled out my phone to check the time 2:00am “do you know how far his work place is?” i said “yea he works at booster juice you know that restaurant that’s a few blocks away?”
“oh yea that’s a great restaurant! what’s your name by the way?” i asked now seeming intrigued by the strange girl in front of me “oh my name is y/n l/n what about you?” she replied now looking at me “oh i’m christopher sturniolo but you can call me chris, hey do you go to somerville high school?” “yea i do!” she smiled “really why haven’t i seen you around?” i asked “i don’t know i’m very quiet and get to class as soon as possible maybe that’s why” she said with a shrug.
we spent a good 30 minutes talking getting to know each other until i felt my phone buzz.
NICK:
where the fuck are you?! it’s 2:45am! you said you were going to get something from the gas station that was over an hour ago!
shit. i look at the time and it surely was almost three am i quickly replied to his message before putting away my phone. “sorry to cut our conversation short but my brothers are waiting for me at home, are you sure your boyfriend is coming? i mean it’s almost three am” asked looking around for any sign of a car approaching us. “oh yea that’s okay and yes im sure he’ll be here any minute don’t worry!” she smiled at me.
“well it was nice meeting you y/n i’ll see you around!” i said as i headed towards the store and grabbing the energy drinks and heading to the cash register i pay and head out, looking towards were y/n was standing just to see she wasn’t there anymore maybe her boyfriend did come pick her up after all.
-
five years later
“oh my gosh remember that one time when we had hockey practice you accidentally ran into the wall because you tripped over chris hockey stick?” laughed nate as we were talking about old high school memories.
“i remember that!” laughed matt across from me as he nearly spilled his soda.
“i remember this one time chris scared the shit out of me!” spoke nick from next to me.
“what how?” asked matt leaning forward now intrigued by the conversation “yea it was like around january or so we were the only ones awake so he said he was going to the gas station a few blocks away to get a few energy drinks he didn’t come back till nearly three thirty am! what were you doing there for a long time?” questioned nick looking at me.
“oh i ran into y/n” i replied shrugging my shoulders “y/n?” asked nate confusion taking over his features “yea y/n you know y/n l/n? she had shoulder length hair and y/e/c eyes?” i said describing her but not seeming to ring a bell to the three boys in front of me “are you sure she went to high school with us?” asked matt
“yea she told me!” i replied “hold up i have the yearbook let me go get it” spoke nate as he made his way into the house.
not even five minutes later he came back yearbook in hand placing it in the table in front of us and flipping through all the pages no sign of her anywhere.
what? did i imagine her? was she even real? does she even exist?
“what the fuck, i swear i met someone that night named y/n and she went to our school!” i said pointing at the book confused as to why she wasn’t there.
-
the next morning i made my way to the library to research her online i tried looking for her social medias but nothing popped up.
as i walked in i made my way to the back where the computers where, i pull up the research bar and type in her name ‘no matches found’ read the screen fuck.
‘y/n l/n somerville high school’ i typed clicking the enter key to see if anything popped up ‘256 matches found’ the screen loaded to a bunch of articles “bingo” i smirked scrolling through the articles most of them being about the awards she’s gotten for being the top of her class or how she was nominated for scholarships.
nothing seeming to grasp my attention all being the same thing but rewritten as i was about to give up on my research an article at the end caught my attention,
‘TEEN GIRL FOUND DEAD IN THE WOODS BEHIND A GAS STATION NEAR OAK STREET!’
read the title of the article catching my attention i double click on it to get the full story when a newspaper article appeared on the screen making my heart drop.
‘local teen girl known as y/n was found dead in the woods behind a gas station near oak street, police say they’re investigating the incident but as far as we know the victim had several bruises on her face and body the cause of death being stabbed in the back thirteen times, the murderer has yet to be identified.’
published:1/24/99
said the article i looked through the whole article trying to find out if they ever found out who killed her or any updates on her death but nothing was updated since 1999, meaning it was a cold case and she never got her justice.
until now.
i’ll make it my mission to find out who killed her and why they did it even if it’s the last thing i do.
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how we feel about this? should i continue it? lmkkkk !!!
taglist: @sturnioloslurps @patscorner @hearts4chris @arisslifee
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dorims · 2 months
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make you fix me [ sneak peak ]
gif creds @/endiness
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roman roy x therapist!reader
wc. ~550
genre. fluff, angst,
spiraling into a more than confusing dynamic, roman roy's relationships have always disrupted the balance between professionalism and an HR complaint. It wasn't his fault his authentic-roy-ways didn't follow the 'being a decent human being' guidebook. People fell in love with their therapists all the time anyway, and being a nepo-baby billionaire didn't save him of that fate.
tags. WORKING TITLE, NO BETA AS OF RN, prone to grammar mistakes !! the story is set some time after s4 as of rn, gif is not representative of the timeline this takes place in, allusions to abuse, being dismissive of therapy, roman uses the word looney as an insult once, tags will be added as the story progresses, these are mainly for the text below the cut
a/n. this is a little sneak peak of one my wips! the full document has 3.5k words ish but im aiming for at least 7k, maybe a little more. if anyone wants to join the tag list for this fic please send me an ask off anon or with your url
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“Are you writing that down?” He frowned, “why are you writing that down? I literally just said I wasn’t.”
Yet again, another bold demonstration of your therapeutic ineptitude. You dared to look up at him for a couple of seconds too long, scanning him over until his eyes widened in confusion while he jostled his hands in the air, preparing to retaliate. But just when he started stringing words together, you decided to start what seemed like a new sentence.
“What are you even writing?!” He wanted to tear all his hair from the roots. “I haven't said anything!”
“Well, you have.”
“It doesn’t matter!” Groaning in protest, he scooted closer to the edge of the couch, almost like he wanted to stand up. “I said nothing that means anything.”
“Then,” you clicked your pen, and his gaze immediately zeroed in on your fingers toying with the shiny metal. He gulped, knowingly so, like waiting for the stationary to stab him in the neck. But nothing had happened, and instead, he missed the way you [had noticed] “There’s nothing you should worry about.”
His shoulders dropped with the heavy weight of being scrutinized. One would have thought he would’ve been used to it by now. But from experience, he had learned that the everlasting bitterness of getting examined under a microscope would always linger. No matter what he tried, the only way of coping with it was to wait for it to pass with his tail between his legs. 
“Can you just like stop? Writing?” With his elbows resting on his knees and his face burrowed against the nook of his hands, his voice came out pityingly muffled, much like the hint of the child he had been tasked to cast aside way too soon.
 “Why?”
“Because, it’s, fuckin’ weird?” He forced himself to stare straight at the spot right between his Oxfords, shaking his head in disbelief as he attempted a laugh. “I’m not paying you to scribble on your looney book.”
You had hummed once more, and he had wanted to tell you to stop. With his gaze still zeroed on the floor, he failed to notice how the plain Moleskin had been pushed to the side, neatly closed in a genuine display of concern. Or as genuine as a therapist would allow themselves to be during their first session. 
“Then what are you paying me for?”
“To like, you know,” he shrugged in disbelief. “Ask me to draw a stick figure under the rain and tell me how to fix this.”
“Fix this?”
“Yeah, this.” The words had left his tongue sitting, heavy in his mouth, and the rest that wanted to tumble out felt foreign in size and shape, though similar in weight to that of shame. The same one that had seeped from between his teeth and gums and skin countless times when the inconceivable consequences of his actions caught up to him growing up. Shame so thick it would put blood to shame, though they sure shared the same taste. And it had always been easier to spit it out in private, drown the aftertaste with fierce scrubbing and hide the searing imprints on his cheeks underneath the covers. But the walls surrounding him were no longer the ones in his childhood bedroom, and you were still waiting on an answer. “Fix, I don’t know…me?”
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underground-secret · 3 months
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The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x F!reader
Description: After getting a call from John Winchester after no contact for months. The group gets led to a town in which a couple goes missing every year around the same time. But Sam doesn’t want to follow orders anymore, and the town still needs help.
Warnings: Cannon Violence, fight scene (tell me how i did, im still learning how to write it!), arguing, a little angst, talk of crimes, cursing (i think), talk about sacrifices and Pagan rituals (i fricken love learning about Paganism), Y/N gets a little snarky and cocky, use of magic and abilities
Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn
Word Count: …14,005
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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!”
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“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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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My eyes flutter open, my horrible headache accompanied with an even worse head-ache. Both in my head and outside. At this point my brain should be a scrambled mess.
My wrists were zip tied to a thinner part of the tree trunk my back rested on. It was just beginning to be dark out. I move my gaze from above me to across me, Dean sitting against a different tree in the same position I was in. His eyes widen and he attempts to move closer before grunting in frustration at the restrictions of his wrists, “You're awake. Are you okay?” He licks his lips, “I swear to fuckin’ god I’ll kill ‘em.”
I don't say anything, my head is too heavy. He's staring at me with wide eyes, fear clear in his irises. “‘You okay?” he asks again. I nod, my head hurts and I’m confused and upset, but I’m alive so I’m okay. He shakes his head, “No.” I look at him confused, I don't understand. He continues to shake his head, wetting his lips again, “Say it. I need to hear you say it,” he sounded breathless, “I need to hear you say you're okay.”
“Im okay” I say weakly. He sighs, relief clear in the way his shoulders drop. But I had a feeling he knew I wasn't being totally truthful.
He swallows roughly, “Can you see the scarecrow?” Despite my heavy head I look in each direction for the thing, until I can slightly see the post. “Dean” I start and I can hear my own voice wobble with fear, “It's not there.” He fights against his restraints, and I would join him in that effort if my head hasn't already given up on me. “I hope their apple pie is frickin’ worth it” he grumbles.
A shadow catches just behind Dean, I squint hoping I'm just seeing things from potential brain damage then the actual scarecrow. “Dean, I think it's behind you.” Forget everything I said and thought, I begin fighting against my own restraints, the zip ties digging into my wrists harshly. “Dean?” a familiar voice called out.
Sam’s tall figure comes into view as he rounds the tree Dean is tied to. Dean twists his neck oddly to see his brother, “Oh!” he sighs in relief, “Oh, I take everything back I said. I'm so happy to see you. Come on.” Sam takes that as his chance to assess his brother's binding before pulling out his pocket knife, “‘You okay, Y/N?” he asks as he works on sawing the bindings. “Dandy” I respond, truly done with this all.
“How’d you get here?” Dean asks his brother.
“I, uh–I stole a car.”
Dean laughs at that, “That's my boy!” His bindings finally break with a snap. Sam doesn't wait for his brother to get up as he walks the short distance to me, beginning to remove my own restraints. His eyes gaze down at me every now and then, most likely assessing the damage.
Deans at my side a breath later, squatting down to be at my level. He brings his hand carefully to my face, gently moving a piece of my hair behind my ear. Something feels dried and stiff there and I wonder if it's blood from being hit or just dirt. I tilt and roll my head away from him, the pain overwhelming even with the delicate touch.
My restraints snap above me, bits of the plastic tangling itself into my hair. My wrists are raw and red, just one more thing to add to the list. I place my hands on the cold dirt, trying to pick myself up but my ears begin to ring and my vision spins. I sit back down again, huffing. Strong arms grab my arm and waist all but lifting me off the ground and onto my feet, “‘You got eyes on the scarecrow?” Dean asks, looking at his brother who shakes his head. “Alright, I can carry you, the clearing isn’t far off” Dean says looking down at me.
“That's ridiculous,” I shake my head, “I’ll slow you down. I’ll just push through, and we don't have time to argue this.” He grumbles, he doesn't like the idea. But again we don't know where the scarecrow is and we can't waste time bickering over stupid logistics.
I immediately regret not taking the offer. My brain feels like it's jumping around in my skull and swishing side to side as if on a boat. I feel like the orchard is spinning around me, tumbling over itself like one of those tunnels in a fun house.
“Alright, now, this sacred tree you’re talking about–” Sam pants lightly as we run, Dean having filled him in on the information we gathered. “It's the source of its power” I finish, my voice feeling far away even in my own ears. “So let’s find it and burn it.” Sam annonces.
“Nah, in the morning.” Dean counters, “Let’s just shag ass before Leather face catches up.”
We come to a skidding stop, just at a clearing of trees the four jerks from before as well as a couple others stand guard. Sam nudged us in a different direction just to be met with a wall of people, we were surrounded. “Did the whole fricking town come to watch us die?!” I exclaim, “Just let us leave!” I was so tired of this, I just want to go to a motel or something and shower off today's fears before falling into a deep sleep. “It’ll be over quickly” Harley says, and if it was meant to be comforting it was not working. “It's for the greater go–” suddenly a sickle is pushed through his stomach. His mouth opens in shock, blood dripping down the sides. Screams come from all around us, and I hardly know if I was screaming too.
He’s raised off the ground before the sickle is quickly pulled out. Stacy still stands there screaming, watching her dying husband on the floor. But soon her screams are cut off too, the sickle going through her throat. Her eyes are wide, her mouth hanging open too as blood not only spurts out of her neck but spills down like a waterfall onto her shirt. The air fills quickly with all the blood's metallic scent. The scarecrow does not retract its weapon, keeping the curved blade in her neck as it grabs onto Harley's collar dragging them both behind it.
Shock had frozen us in place, but apparently not the townspeople. “Come on let’s go,” Dean insists, leading us away.
Morning came by far too slowly but at least we passed the time by using the stolen car to drive back to the college to get the Impala before returning to the orchard. It all went by so weirdly, I knew I was moving but it felt like I never left that road outside the expanse of apple trees. I hardly remember the drive there or the drive back, everything still spun and the ringing only got louder. I think I might have lost my mind.
We stand in front of the sacred tree though I don't remember how we found it. The tree had Vince’s tattoo printed onto it, that was a tell tale sign it was the right one. Sam pours gasoline all over it, Dean picks up a long branch lighting it on fire before throwing it onto the tree. “‘Think the towns ‘gonna be okay?” Sam asks as the flaming tree roars with the crackling flames. “Don’t know” Dean shrugs, but I think the answer was apparent to all of us.
“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?” Sam adds.
“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough.” Dean answers.
We walk back to the car leaving the burning tree behind us, though I hope it won’t spread and cause a whole forest fire, “So, can I drop you off somewhere?” Dean asks.
“No, I think you’re stuck with me.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you’re still a pain in the ass.” Sam explains, “But, Jess and Mom—they’re both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, me, Y/N. We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.”
I give Sam's arm a little squeeze, it was a really sweet speech.
“Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.” Dean smiles, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder who hits it away. They fall into a fit of laughter, “You should be kissing my ass, you were dead meat, dude.” Sam says between laughs.
“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten us out.” Dean scuffs.
“Right.”
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Shells
Chapter Five
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Kim Hongjoong x fem reader
a/n: i know i said DJANGO chap two would be next but i've wrote over five thousand words for it and lost the train of thought and wraaaaa 😭 a/n2: EVERYBODY STAY CALM OKAY EVERYBODY STAY CAAAAALM I COULDNT HOLD MYSELF BACK ANYMORE OKAY IM SORRRRY
"For now, he's content to just press his body onto yours and cage you in the nest he made just for you."
Shells Masterlist
✫彡wordcount: 2.7k
♡'・ᴗ・'♡(✯◡✯)genre: yandere, fantasy, smut w/plot
ಠ_ಠwarning/contents(chapter specific): wet dreams, masturbation, mutual masterbation(?), somnophilia technically, no actual smut, more plot development mwhahaha
Shells tags: @ddaeing @the-flavour-of-deaths-ass @wnewoo @catwhisk @silentcry329 @dear-dreamie @atinycafe @is4b3ll3s s @stvrfir3
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
The nest is so warm. It feels safe as the thunder rumbles seemingly nonstop. His arms are wrapped around you tightly and squeezing you close protectively as he hears your heart thud in your chest. "Are you scared of the storm, My Precious?"
      A soft nod is his only response, a whimper pressing past your lips as a particularly loud crack of thunder echoes in the cave. "Don't worry, Joongie will protect you." His hand softly rub your stomach and trail down to your bare thighs.
    When did you take your clothes off?
      His hands are so warm and calming as he caresses every inch of skin he can reach before one finally lands on your epicenter. He cups your heat warmly and moans into your ear as he grinds onto your hip, whispering obscenities about how well you'll take his cock one day soon.
     He kneads your plush flesh in his hand for a moment, seemingly basking in the feeling of your juices wetting his palm before he pulls away and crawls down your body, his eyes trained to you like the predator that he is- shining darkly as his scales flush a bright red that rivals his hair. "Will you let me?" He croons deeply as he comes face to face with your wetness.
    "Mmm please, Joongie," your soft moan wakes him with a start, eyes flicking black as he searches the den for any potential danger.
     "Precious? Are you quite alright?" He whispers as he curls closer to you, feeling your head and frowning deeply as he feels your heated skin.
   Is your fever back so soon? It's been three days since your first dosage and you've been fine. Why all of the sudden should you be s-
    "Nngh," another moan stops all of his movements, frozen like a statue as he catches a glimpse of your hips rolling subconsciously. He backs up and off of your body, forcing himself to ignore the small whimper that leaves you as he heat disappears.
    You've got his, and now your, favorite blanket balled up and pressed between your thighs, moving your hips lazily for any kind of friction. "Like that," you purr subconsciously, and that's all it takes for all of his blood to rush downwards, a raging hard on in his sleep shorts in a second flat as his eyes flick up to your blissfully unaware face.
    Your jaw is slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed together as you hump your hips upward clumsily.
     "Oh sweet Huntress," he curses under his breath, slapping a hand over his mouth to cover any noises you may have caught over the storm outside.
   He backs away further, pressing himself to the cool rock wall. He doesn't want you to wake up and think he was the cause of whatever clearly wet dream you're having. And, Gods, is it wet.
     His blackened eyes are trained on the small patch that you rub your core on over and over. You've soaked through the shorts that he made for you to sleep in and are smearing your eagerness on his blanket with continued soft moans trilling off of your tongue.
     He's just about to get up to relieve his hardness elsewhere for your own modesty, knowing full well you can't control this dream your having and knowing even more that if you ever ever knew he had jacked off beside you that he would never so much as get an innocent smile thrown his way.
   But then?
   "Oh, Joongie," it trails off your lips and causes a pang of arousal to hit his gut roughly, biting into his hand with his own sharp teeth as his tip leaks into his shorts.
    Is this his own dream. His mate having a wet dream about him is his wet dream? There's no way. No way.
    "Fuck harder, Hong," you slur and stammer in your sleep, and he has to free himself of his fabrics immediately. Gone is any of his modesty or care for yours. If you're having a wet dream about him, he can just say he had one about you. That's what he's making himself believe is happening even.
     The electric spark he feels when you roll and hike your knee up on his thigh assures him that it's real, however. That he, in fact, is not having the best dream of his life.
    But he chooses to ignore that as he slowly strokes his girth. You look so delicate and beautiful as you smoosh your head deeper into the nest that smells like your mate. He matches his strokes to the way your hips swirl and grind as deep into the balled up blanket as possible. Your body must still be processing his bite too fast. Your horniness is exactly what he was feeling since he bit you, and what he would expect of you in a few weeks if you had been taking his bite normally.
    But he isn't complaining, he's thanking the Huntress as one of your hands seeks out his body heat subconsciously and grips onto his thigh, digging your nails into his skin. "Mate," the word that rumbles off your trembling lips nearly has him cumming on the spot. Five days in, and he's never so much as heard you utter the word besides with disgust. But this time- oh this time. It's laced with honey and desperation and a passion he's never heard from you.
     "Mate," he whispers back as he fists his length roughly, biting his lip to hold back the growls he so badly wants to let out, afraid that he'll wake you before either of you have a chance to relieve the build up of intense hormones that come with the bite he left on your neck.
    He feels an immense amount of guilt for watching you in such a vulnerable state without your expressed permission, but he'll be damned if he lets the opportunity slip away. You'll never know, and he'll never tell. But that doesn't stop his from feeling a bit guilty. What does stop him- what washes away all doubt of his actions is when you lay flat on your stomach and reach your hand under yourself, into your shorts.
     The smell of your sweet, sweet aroma finally hits him full force and he paints his stomach white with his own pleasure, a quiet growl that he can't hold back ripping out of his clenched teeth.
     And even in his pleasure induced delirium, he doesn't dare miss the way that your body seizes up and the wet patch in your shorts grows tenfold before you slump to the warmth of the nest and nuzzle his pillow with a delicate whine.
     "Hongjoong," you murmur through you deep breaths, clearly spent from your unconscious release. He tucks himself back into his own shorts and wipes his stomach on a spare piece of fabric before curling up ontop of you and holding you close securely, ignoring the way that he's still hard. It will go away on its own.
     He's taken more than what you would give in your waking state and for now, he's content to just press his body onto yours and cage you in the nest that he made just for you.
-
     You wake with a newfound pep in your step, metaphorically of course: because Hongjoong refuses to get off of his place on your back for a few hours. He trills happily and holds you close tightly, clicking in the language you don't understand.
   Unbeknownst to you, he's confessing his sins with that sickly sweet tone and bright smile that has you holding back a smile of your own. He tells you exactly what happened with a smile on his face even though he feels like collapsing in on himself a tiny bit. Just to get it off of his chest.
    You fail to notice your dried up arousal until you get up and skip to the separate room to relieve your bladder, and then you're staring down at it dumbfounded. The splash of the water outside of the room lets you know he's gone for a bit.
      He told you, thankfully in the language you understand, that he had some matters to attend to with the tribe.
   So you waited for a few minutes to make sure he's truly gone off before you run out in one of your new outfits that he tailored for you in the past days, diving into the nest and shoving your soiled shorts to the bottom of the thick pile of fabrics.
    You also fail to notice that you had shoved it right next to the rag Hongjoong used to clean himself up, copying his exact shameful actions as you tried to hide the evidence of last night's subconscious rendezvous.
     You don't remember exactly what had happened in your dream, but you do remember that it made you want to kiss him when you woke up. And that fact scares you.
So, you distract yourself with the chest of goodies he gifted you on that second day before all hell broke loose. With your ever growing collection of shells, a small knife, and the wires from a discarded ball gown, you sit down by the fire to work: listening to the storm rolling outside.
-
Hongjoong pushes his way all the way to the front of the crowd and up to the small throne, sitting himself down next to the smaller, empty chair.
"Begin." Is all he clicks. And nobody makes a move.
Annoyance is clear on his face as he scans the people, and it's not hard for them to tell that it's because he had to leave you. He's nearly bouncing to get back to your den, and he doesn't try to hide the fact.
"Today!"
One of the lower ranked sirens swims forward and refuses to look up as he communicates in a quiet voice, "Sir, a few of us had heard of your mate's condition. And we were con-"
"Unless you are going to pray for her speedy recovery and wish us luck, I don't want to hear it. Save your breath."
"Sir, we heard you're treating her with Tophra..."
"That we are. Is there a problem?"
"I thought that it was outlawed because of la-"
"It is. Nobody else is to use it. We used it to save your future den mother, does that fact bother you so much, Minjae?"
"No, Sir. We're concerned for her, is all."
"Don't be. Yunho knows what he's doing and so do I." His dismissive tone makes the young siren realize that their cause will be going no where, so he slides back into his place amongst his brothers and gives Angel a sad glance from across the room.
"Next matter of business?"
-
     "Of all the comrades that e'er I had...They're sorry for my going away," your voice echoes in the quiet den, loud enough that it drowns out the rippling of the water as the top of Hongjoongs head emerges. His brown eyes shimmering and scales on his face a light pink as his ears twitch, focusing in on your voice.
    "And all the sweethearts that e'er I had, they'd wish me one more day to stay..." Although the treatment had stabilized your hormones and slowed the progression of you accepting his bite, it hadn't fought off all of your symptoms. Just the most painful ones.
     You sang. Very much, and very well. The past three days in the den have been filled with soft lullabies that you remembered from your childhood. More often than not luring you and Hongjoong both to sleep.
      You nested- scraps of fabric that he insisted were useless after he finished fixing a garment to fit you, you padded your sleeping area with even more- even if they did little to nothing. Sleeping deeper into the morning despite the fact that you were an early riser back home.
Your bones ached when you were away from him for too long, growing cold and tired on your lonesome.
And above all, you slowly began accepted him as your mate. Though you still preferred the words 'My Hongjoong' instead. Mate sounded too primal.
"So fill to me, the parting glass... Good night and joy be with you all. Good night an- JESUS!" You yelp as he hops out of the water noisily, shorts already on. You hold your project to your chest and muster up a glare to throw his way, only met with a cheeky smile as he joins your side by the fire. He begins skinning an unfamiliar animal, his smile unwavering.
You flatten out your hand over your DIY secretively, which gains a peek from him. "What's that?" You both ask simultaneously, a smile pulling at your lips as he chuckles.
"A secret. What's that?" You turn your body to keep working on it as he works on what is clearly dinner.
"A mammal," he explains shortly, smirk tugging at his lips as he moves to look over your shoulder- pushed away as you place your palm to his forehead and push him back. He laughs and leaves you to it, "okay then, Precious."
You both work separately until he taps your back, a wooden plate of food ready for you to share. "One more minute." You stick your tongue out in concentration, jumping slightly when he places his palm flat on your back and rubs gently.
"Your food will get cold," he pouts and he rests his head on your back, humming softly as he listens to your heart.
"I'm almost..... done!" You turn with your hands cupped together, hiding your project effectively. "Close your eyes," you blush softly as he looks at you with wide and sparkling eyes.
"It's for me?" He asks as he complies, listening to your movements closely as you crawl behind him and latch something onto his neck loosely.
"For you," you whisper as you give into your strange urges and hug him from behind, stroking his bare chest softly, "open."
His eyes flick down to the loose necklace in a millisecond flat, tears welling up as he sees the dark green shell he gifted you on your first night in his care. It's surrounded by littler ones of various colors and shapes, all dangling by his heart. "You-"
    "Mhm, I made it for you. I want you to wear it."
    You don't know the effect that your words have on him. Gifting is a way of courting in his world, and accepting is a way of also accepting the person. This is the first time you've gifted him something, and it's handmade of all the things you've accepted from him.
    "You don't have to but I pricked myself quite a few times so I'd ap-"
    "I'll wear it. I'll wear it every day, I'll never take it off!" His eagerness makes you laugh. A soft and comfortable sound that he cherishes, he gets to hear it so rarely. "I want t-" He cuts himself off as he runs his finger tips on the shells.
     "Hm?" You rest your chin over his shoulder and peek at him, a gently smile on your lips- which he seems to be zeroed in on, his eyes slowly darkening. You let go of him and back away slowly, lowering your eyes.
   "Kiss you." His short, broken, sentence makes you look up as he approaches: slotting himself between your legs and pressing his chest to yours and pushing you down to the cool floor, the necklace resting between you. "Mate."
    "Hongjoong-"
    "Mate. Kiss you," he pants as he rests his forehead on yours, his next word a desperate and drawn out whine, "please?"
    Your head moves to nod, and not even a fraction of the way there his lips are collided with yours as a feral groan rips through his throat. His hands grip at your cheeks, holding your face close to his as yours wrap up in his damp hair. A collection of clicks and purrs come from him as you moan into him softly. He just feels so right. His lips. His warmth. His love. It all feels right now.
He wants to hold you and never let go, but he remembers that you still have to breathe more than he does and pulls away from your lips just enough to let you inhale deeply- still ghosting over your soft skin. "Hongjoong," you coo softly, grabbing one of his hands and blowing on his palm, making him shiver with pleasure as your name shows up once again.
"My (Y/n), I'll always wear your shells."
-
306 notes · View notes
gavisfanta · 5 months
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Secrets - Pedri
Just trying out something new. tell me if you like it tho ;)
pov: you are frenkie de jongs sister and there are a lot of rumours around you and some barca players
part2
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yourinsta
2nd pic is me thinking if i should dye my hair for vacation or not.
liked by pedri, frenkiedejong and 192.389.290 others.
pedri im voting for blue!
yourinsta @pedri ofc you are
frenkiedejong where did you even get that pic from?
yourinsta @frenkiedejong🤫🤫🤫
iloveyn omg! you're so pretty!!!!
barcafan2829 frenkies picture is killing me 🤣🤣🤣
luv4pedri why is suddenly every barca player liking her pictures?
ynamor @luv4pedri y/n is Frenkies sister thats why
grosn14 @ynamor she's hanging out with them more the last few weeks no?
ntrdame so pretty 😍
joaofelix79 me personally, I'd choose blue for your hair, i feel like it'd suit you pretty well
pedri @joaofelix79 that's what I'm saying
yourinsta @joaofelix79 @pedri no ❤️
joaofelix79 @pedri lets not give up
pedri @joaofelix79 understand sir
user729 @joaofelix79 LMAOOOO
ilycr7suiii who cares?
macaronparatoi i feel like blonde would suit you pretty well 🫶🏻
user920 joao what are you doing here?????
mikkykiemeney you're pretty either way 😘❤️
yourinsta @mikkykiemeney nawww youre too sweet 😘😘
siramartinezc love you ❤️
yourinsta @siramartinezc love you more ❤️
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yourinsta
Ibiza was great! Thanks for sticking along @pablogavi 😘
liked by pablogavi, pedri and 729.926.292 others.
pablogavi no problem 😘
yourinsta @pablogavi 😘🤣
pedri i cant see your blue hair y/n
yourinsta @pedri shut the heck up
joaofelix79 @pedri real me neither
yourinsta @pedri @joaofelix79 you both shut up please
iloveyn so pretty!!!!
user392 where is she going next?
mikkykiemeney come home! I miss you 😪
yourinsta @mikkykiemeney Ill be back soon dont worry
joaofelix79 and she cried over nothing...
pedri @joaofelix79 so there was nothing i could do to stop...
joaofelix79 @pedri her from cutting...
pedri @joaofelix79 her beautiful blue hair off...
joaofelix79 @pedri dum dum dum...
pedri @joaofelix79 dum dum dum.
yourinsta @joaofelix79 @pedri i swear to god you two are so annoying
carsrliffe why is Gavi with her?
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yourinsta
about rome... @pablogavi
liked by pablogavi, paulodybala and 279,829,231 other.
joaofelix79 still can't see blue hair
yourinsta @joaofelix79 im gonna block you
pablogavi "Gavi take a picture, it'll look aesthetic"
yourinsta @pablogavi it does look aesthetic no?
pablogavi @yourinsta fuck yeah
frenkiedejong ❤️
yourinsta @frenkiedejong ❤️
ynlove she's so gorgeous 😍 💖
user729 did she meet dybala or why did he like her picture?
brycehall Looks fantastic next time bring me too please
yourinsta @brycehall I'll make sure bryce
heiznorm where is she going next?
siramartinezc Rome is beautiful but you're prettier ❤️
yourinsta @siramartinezc nawwww stop sira youre making me blush ❤️
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kosije · 10 months
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a/n: never have unprotected sex with strangers! only read about it <3 also this is a old work i just added a bit onto...
cw: mdni, mechanic!hawks x fem!reader, use of doll/ma'am/miss, unprotected sex, missionary, pretty vanilla, simp behavior by hawks, reader calls him keigo, corny dialogue, horrible capitalization (im so srry), probably wont edit this lol...
It's been hours. It's been hours and you're dripping sweat despite the multitude of cold drinks you've ingested from the vending machine in your local auto care. You just took your car in for an oil change and regretted not getting a bus ride back. The more the round clock above the register desk clicked, the more impatient you're getting and the smell of gasoline was hurting your head. After bobbing your leg up and down a little more, you decide to just go out and check on your car.
"Hey! Uh, my car was scheduled to be done 30 minutes ago. Is there any way I can check on it right now? Do you have an ETA of some sort?"
The receptionist, a dark-haired boy with a red choker, looks up empathetically before clicking his keyboard.
"Sorry miss, I dunno much about that, but let me call up your mechanic. What number are you?"
"3389"
"3....3....8- oh Hawks is working on that one! I'll call to see if you can get buzzed in, but no need to worry. He is our fastest and most skilled mechanic, so your car will be good as new as soon as he's done."
The boy's voice becomes the slightest bit animated and you feel your annoyance tone down. But you didn't care if it was "good as new," just as long as you could get home safe.
"Okay, thank you."
His fingers quickly punch into a corded phone before a voice comes on the other line.
"He said it should be done in 2, but you're more than welcome to go in."
You nod and thank the teen before stumbling past wired gates and stray cigarettes before finding your car. It looks damn good. Originally a somewhat hand-me-down from your mother to yourself, it was always beautiful on the outside. The silhouette was a classic thing. real sleek and "real groovy" according to your mother. But the upsides stopped at the exterior.
The ac was loud, and the radio was spotty. Even the leather seats were chipping, despite the multitude of repairs you've paid for out of pocket.
But now the car looks brand new. The shell of your car is clean and shiny. When you open the door, you're pleasantly surprised by the smell of musky cologne and your clean linen car freshener, and even more surprised when you can't see where the patches of missing leather are. you almost let yourself smile before realizing this might be a scam to force you to pay for the advancements.
You're too busy peeking into your interior to notice another person walking up.
"Is this ya car, or you lookin' for a ride to jack?"
You flinch slightly but recover yourself well enough to turn to face the deep voice and a rush of heat flushes over you. Sharp amber eyes run over your figure as you busy yourself with getting a good look at the man leaning against the bumper of your car. messy blonde hair, healthy tan, scruff, and muscular. All things you like, except (so far) his personality.
"And you are?"
"The mechanic, doll," He replies in a "duh" voice, slipping his arms out of his dirtied blue denim overalls and crossing them over the other. You don't miss how his biceps flex slightly at the gesture.
"You got anything else to ask, or are you jus’ gonna keep checking me out?"
"I wasn't checking you out."
"Whatever makes you feel better," He laughs, walking up only to lean on the steel table behind you.
"Look this is my car-" He cuts you off by reading your name off a stray paper that has dirt and oil on it, raising an eyebrow and you nod a confirmation.
He offhandedly purrs something about the name being pretty, and you have to consciously ignore the burn in your cheeks.
"Just tell me how much the repair is gonna cost," the question comes out with a sigh, and now it's your turn to cross your arms. It's done out of attitude, but when his eyes lower to focus on your chest, electricity trickles down your spine.
"You gonna answer or keep checking me out?"
coughing and readjusting himself on the table, he tells you $110.
"Are you kidding? The oil change was 60!"
"I did a whole lot besides an oil change, doll"
"without my consent! This has got to be illegal!" 
"Well, how about this?" he says, moving closer to you, and you can now see just how much he dwarfs you in size. "You pay $40 bucks, and let me take you out to dinner."
well... that wasn't something you were expecting.
"I don't know you."
"I know."
"You don't know me."
"Let's change that then." He says. The smirk he has is toothy and could almost be seen as sweet if he didn't just try to scam you out of $50. After another beat of silence, he talks again.
"Don't be brutal, doll. You know you're just as excited to see where this goes."
"I don't usually date scammers." You finally say, but it's meek and you instantly regret it because all he does is smile wider.
"There's a first for everything."
... 
You don't know why you agreed and gave him your number and address. But you did. You also don't know why you're wearing such an expensive dress and perfume. Or why you're putting on makeup. But you are. It was all too elaborate for a one-off date with a random man. Nevertheless, here you were, crouching down to put your bobby pins in your hair because your dress didn't allow for enough movement.
There are three quick knocks at your door before you hear Hawk's voice. 
"I'm starving, doll. Don't leave me like this." 
Bastard
You quickly give yourself a one-over and head to the door. When you open it you see Hawks, except he looks different. His hair is neatly brushed back, and he swapped his stronger cologne for a much more elegant one that matches even better with yours. simple suit and tie with square-cut earrings.
"you look good" he looks better than good, but you don't wanna say anything that'll inflate his ego more.
"you look perfect," and he punctuates it by saying your name instead of 'doll' and you like the way it sounds more than you thought.
Hovering over you now with one arm on the doorframe. He stretches out a hand with a small grin.
"May I? " You place your hand in his.
"You May."
...
5 things you've learned about Hawks Keigo so far
1. his real name is Keigo, hawks being a nickname he got in his youth because of his speed and eyes
2. his hand is much larger than yours
3. he has great taste in restaurants
4. his favorite food is yakitori (a new favorite of yours too)
5. he's ready to go back to your place
"How was your food?"
"It was actually... great"
"C'mon, don't act all reluctant! This restaurant has never done me wrong!" He says as you shift the air conditioner to fan your face and turn the radio up a bit.
"Right, yakitori connoisseur. I can see why you'd take your dates here."
"You're the first." He says emphasizing the last part with a sly look over to your spot in the passenger seat of his Mercedes. It's an admission that has a smile threatening to find a home on your lips, but you turn your head to face outside the window and he chuckles knowingly.
"Or are you saying this should now be the spot? Cuz I could make that work."
"You sure know how to ruin a mood." You're laughing at his feigned hurt expression as he steers with one hand while the other goes over his heart.
"How rude!" He says before the hand over his heart falls to your thigh and suddenly you're hyperaware of how warm he is. "I'll make sure this spot is special to just you."
If the hand on your thigh wasn't enough, the sincerity of his tone has you reeling and reaching over his middle console to kiss him. Soft, short, and sweet on his cheek. You can hear his breath hilt and the smell of his cologne is stronger. When you pull back, you can see the mark of your lipstick on his cheek. And his hand squeezes your thigh tighter.
"You're driving me crazy, doll."
"...was that a pun because you're driving?"
"What?"
"I said-" 
he dramatically turns up the radio and you roll your eyes when he excessively mouths 'I can't hear you!' 
"YOU'RE LUCKY THIS SONG IS GOOD!" you yell into his ear and he laughs, drawing circles onto your thigh with his thumb. The ride back to your apartment is shorter than you'd like, but at least he walks you up to your door, right?
"I don't usually invite scammers into my house."
"yeah?" he asks, hands already on your waist and head tilted.
"but there's a first for everything, isn't there?"
"id like that," he says, smiling down at you as you walk backward into your living room.
His lips are feverish on yours, tongue exploring as deep as it can into your mouth until his and your lips are purple and swollen before drawing purple bruises all over your neck and chest, just over your tits. Your body is hot and you hurriedly pull your arms out of your dress and shimmy it off-eliciting a pleasured hum when he finds that you're not wearing a bra- as he quickly tosses his button-up and jacket before his lips are back onto yours. Your hands wrap around Keigo's neck and his hands cup under your ass and lift you up.
"First door on your right." 
Following your instructions, he walks with you to his arms to your room and tosses you on the familiar sheets of your bed.
"Do you want this?" he asks, hands working on his belt
"Please."
His jaw clenches, and in a second he's bare in front of you.
And big. Much bigger than you think you can take. Thick veins wrap around his cock and you can tell he shaved just for tonight. He runs a finger up and down your clothing slit. Your lips part and a soft sigh rolls off your tongue.
"Don't be a tease."
"Yes ma'am," his finger hooks on the edge of your lace panties and slides them off before running his cock up and down to gather your slick with a quiet groan. Without warning, he slides into you, and you're both vocal. after letting you adjust to his length, he slowly starts moving inside of you, then faster and you're whining around him.
"so pretty," comes out a gasp when his hands pull your legs over his shoulders.
"yer so pretty. And yer the tightest lil' thing I've ever had. Why don't we make an h-habit of this, hmm?" 
"The sex or–fuck–dinner?" You ask, trying to slow the coil in your gut with deep breaths.
"Both."
"That sounds like dating." 
"It's not–shiit"
"How so?" You ask, moaning into the back of your hand when he switches his angle and hits that spot that has you seeing stars.
"You don't date scammers," he says and you would laugh if you didn't have drool sliding down the side of your mouth. His eyes flicker to it and when he licks it up, only to kiss it back into your mouth, and your nails find his back and rake over the skin in an attempt to ground yourself.
"So...what...' bout...it," he asks between kisses and you roll your eyes. When you don't answer, he grunts and stalls all movements.
"What-"
"Answer me and I'll move." 
His eyes widen as he watches you move up and down on your own.
"Stubborn," he whispers out, still wide-eyed when his lips split into a grin. "you won't be able to fuck yerself the way I do it. So just be good 'nd-"
"Yes." you bite out. Your pride feels robbed, but you can tell he's right when you feel your stomach ache.
"Yes, what?"
He's moved again, but it's too slow for your liking and leaves you irritated. You're exactly where he wants you, and so—reluctantly — you mutter:
"Let's make this a habit!" 
An uncharacteristically soft hand cups your cheek and your stomach twist.
"I knew you could be good for me," he says, lips pressing into the side of your mouth and you're writhing. 
Speeding up again, you feel that familiar flame of pleasure ignite within you and tangle your hands into his blonde strands. The room is filled with slaps and moans and if you weren't so fucked out, you might've been able to hear your headboard knocking against the wall and how the mess of your nightstand slightly bounces from the source. Praises are whispered in between messy thrusts and you try your best to focus on the sweat running down your back to let the feeling of him inside you last longer, but your toes are curled and can taste blood from how hard you’re biting down on your lip. 
“Don't shy away now, I love that pretty voice of yours,” and his face looks so much in ecstasy that when his tip hits that spot in you again a pornographic moan leaves your lips, and the flood of pleasure hits you is as foreign as it is blissful. You almost gave no control of yourself. barely hushing yourself, barely able to unravel your legs from around his hips, all too consumed in your high. But Keigo is no better. When your legs ease the hold around his hips, he hurriedly pulls out, but not fast enough, and globs of white spray onto your pussy and all over your chest, even up to your neck. He can only pump himself a few more times before he's falling on top of you with a huff, knocking the air out of you. 
"U-P!" you gasp out, hitting his chest until he rolls over with a sheepish look.
"'M sorry," is all that he says before narrowing his eyes when you giggle.
"Didn't know nutting took that much energy out."
"me neither," he says, joining in on your giggles with a squawk-like laugh that makes you laugh even harder. "I've never come that hard."
"I'm flattered." You purr, smiling up at the ceiling. "I don't think ill be able to walk for a couple of days myself."
And you were joking, but when he laughs and hoists himself up with a hand on your thigh, the soreness humbles you and you realize there's more truth to that statement than you care to admit. You point to the bathroom and he nods, disappearing and reappearing with a damp rag and cleans you up. 
"How do you like your baths?"
"Warm." you twitch when he wipes over a sensitive part, earning a reassuring kiss on the cheek.
When he's done, he moves back into your bathroom and you can hear him turn on the faucet, and you stretch to your legs until the water is turned off and he's scooping you into his arms. When you've finished, he offers to carry you back to bed, but you insist on getting back on your own, even if your legs felt a bit wobbly. You slip into something comfortable while he puts on what he had on before, only now it's wrinkled. You expect him to leave immediately after he's dressed.
"what are you going to watch me sleep?"
"just waiting for you to invite me to stay the night"
"not gonna happen," you say and laugh at the way he pouts. "next time, maybe." And now you're laughing harder at how quickly his expression changed to a smile.
He leans down to kiss you long and slow, pulling away to leave a peck on your cheek. 
"Same time next week?" he asks, giving you another peck, this time along your cheek. You mumble an affirmation, eyes blissfully shut as his lips move to our neck.
"and the one after that. " And he's grinning against you again when he says this.
"Overzealous, don't ya think?" not missing the glint in his eyes when they meet yours again. Same gold that seems to shimmer close up.
"Just makin' a habit of it." Is all he says, same beautiful eyes looking down at you, same lopsided grin, now pretty purple marks on his neck. 
And all you can do is say,
"okay, same time next week."
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