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ma1dita · 5 months

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heavy hitter

part one can be found here!

this was a request, find it here!

words: 3.5k (yall im so sorry)

summary: james potter x beater!reader James might’ve won the game, but he needs to let people know he has the girl too.

warnings: smut. minors DNI. afab!reader, p in v, pwp, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap) locker room sex, creampie, oral (m!receiving) reader is a brat… this is nasty don’t look at me (jesus tagging this is crazy)

a/n: …. what plot? i wanted to write angst again but got bored so… *jazz hands* erm…. this is my first smut fic, i’ll go crawl in a hole now

(posted 12/19/23 not edited will return)

—

Hitting the shower was James’ chance of washing his anger away before seeing you again tonight. He always gave quidditch his 110% percent, but something animalistic rose out of him when he saw you get manhandled by Wilkins, his team keeper. And regardless of the Gryffindor win, he was planning to chew off his ear later, whether it be with extra laps at the next practice or a good ol’ fashioned wallop to the head. But this anger wasn’t due to a foul play, not even because you got hurt (your arm was clearly fine since you used it to swing your bat at Wilkins’ head after). What got James mad was the fact you ripped your jersey.

No, actually, it was definitely because of what happened after that.

He’s not the type of boyfriend to decline you showing a little extra skin, but any fantasy that entered his mind was quickly cleared away when he saw you re-emerge from the locker rooms wearing your teammate’s jersey. McGonagall said it would be the only way to let you play the rest of the game since there’s no magic allowed on the field, but ever the rulebreaker, James thought that was absolute bullshit.

He rinses the shampoo out of his mop of curls as he thinks about that tosser whose name he can’t even remember. The guy was way too eager to give you his jersey, flirting with you at practices and just not taking a hint. Everyone knew you’d been dating him for a while now, and of course, James knows you can handle yourself, but there are just some things he can’t let slide. Namely, assholes that can’t take a hint. Also, he was a benchwarmer at most. Cocky motherfucker.

Watching you fly around with some other guy’s last name on your back did terrible things to James’ ego. The blur of suds pool at his feet, circling down the drain as he takes a deep breath. He’s got it bad for you, but luckily you like him enough to call him yours.

The Gryffindor locker room was empty by now with everyone too eager to celebrate their win. It was his last year as team captain and at Hogwarts in general, so he should be right up there drinking with all of them, but James really needed to let off some steam.

“Babe?” Your voice calls from the doorway, echoing against the empty walls. Condensation drips off the door handle as you take a peek to see the one shower going in the corner. What was taking him so long? You saw the rest of the team leave without him and they were trying to drag you to celebrate with them, but with your boyfriend still drowning himself in the stall….

“Over here love,” he calls out, hearing your sandals clomp against the wet tile as you turn the corner.

“You almost done? We have a party to get to, Jamie.”

The falling water makes it a bit hard to hear you, so he pops his head out from behind the curtain and squints at your frame. You giggle and pull his chin closer for a few quick kisses.

“Is that your jersey?”

His lips feel so soft against yours as you get distracted, slipping your tongue into his mouth instead of giving him a proper answer. Godric you’re good at that. James’ wet hand quickly pushes the curtain open grabbing at your ass and tucking you against his naked body, soaking the front of you in the process. A muffled yelp escapes you as your body adjusts to the temperature and the feeling of his semi-hard dick against your front.

“No, coach still has mine and I have to return this to Steven after.” You say calmly, smiling against his cheek as he sucks at your neck. He would’ve enjoyed getting lost in the scent of your still-damp hair, but your statement makes him stop as he bites at your pulse point. A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Why the fuck are you still wearing whatshisname’s jersey?”

James’s hands trail up your back to feel the embroidered letters against your back, and he swears his eye twitches. The incredulous look on his face makes you hold back your laughter.

“Steven. You know him! Don’t tell me this is a big deal for you, baby. You know I couldn’t magically fix mine during the game…”

Your hands trace down his slippery biceps as he unconsciously ruts against your belly, cock now at full attention from rubbing up against you. Your nipples are pebbled up under the material of the jersey, soaked from your less-than-innocent embrace, and he lifts a hand to brush over them, making you groan.

“Definitely not. I wouldn’t get jealous of a prick like him…” He scoffs, hands going back down to fist the fabric over your hips, “Not a big deal at all.”

“Mhmmm… I’ve got a way to make it up to you, even if it’s not a big deal.” You muse, fingers reaching to tease his swollen head as James exhales harshly.

“I’d hope this is a big deal for you, baby. Would want nothing more,” he breathes, pushing your back against the wall.

“You just want me to say your dick is big.”

The both of you laugh before he tugs the jersey over your head, ripping it in the process.

“James!”

He shrugs, burrowing his head into your breasts and lapping at your right bud. You moan, shoving your shorts down past your ankles before pulling his hair away from your chest.

“Mmmm…fuck, babe. I’m supposed to be congratulating you right now!”

Your hands push at his torso slightly as you fall to your knees, placing yourself onto your sandals. Gentle hands graze his thighs, as he feels your nose bump into his cock. The water hits James’ back perfectly, and the sensation of your hand pumping and sliding along his length makes him almost feral, shutting his eyes in pleasure.

“You played so well today baby… deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Your tongue slips out from behind your lips to lick the underside of his length, holding yourself there as you look up at him to answer. Droplets cascade down his pecs as he breathes heavily at the feeling, precum leaking from his cockhead. James hisses as you tap him against your tongue.

“Fuck, baby. Need your mouth right now.” He can feel you grin against his girth before his cock disappears into your mouth, hot and warm, and his instinct is to grab your hair. Goosebumps rise on the parts of him untouched by the shower. Your throat rumbles with a groan as you let him work himself down into your throat, the resistance waning as your jaw slackens. Cheeks hollowing, your lips retract with a pop.

“Like that, Jamie?” you say, reaching around to massage his balls as your tongue continues to play with the long vein that runs along the surface of his cock. It’s hard to fit all of him in your mouth, fingers barely able to wrap around it, much less the rest of you. His hand massages the part where your mouth hinges open, squeezing your cheeks around him as he fucks into you with a bated sigh.

“You always take me so well, baby. You can handle more, that’s it,” he pants, biting his lip as you concentrate real hard on letting him use you, the corners of your eyes watering. His heart is racing now as his hips piston to the noises that come gurgling from your throat and he almost slips before his reflexes help him catch the back of your head before it bangs into the stall wall. A loud moan sputters from around his cock as your eyes roll back, and the lack of oxygen makes you press your fingernails into his quads harshly.

He pulls out from between your lips, cradling your chin as the both of you catch your breath, coughing a little.

“You okay? Mouth so good I lost my footing.” All you can do is laugh hoarsely as he grins boyishly before you realize he’s not wearing his glasses.

“Can you even see me? S’bit cold down here, Mr. MVP.”

He pulls you up, strong hands lifting you at your armpits until you stand in front of him, reaching over to grab his glasses from the shower shelf. You slide them on as water sprays onto them slightly as he shifts, blinking at you in clearer vision.

“There’s my boy,” you whisper, cupping his jaw and slotting your lips between his once more. You could kiss James forever, all muscles and hard exterior, but everything else, his lips down to his insides feel and go soft for you. He groans lowly and it rumbles between the both of you, before the slick motions against your core remind you of something else that’s really hard right now.

“All for you,” he sighs, hands gripping onto your hips with a force that you think they’ll bruise tomorrow, and you love having physical reminders of him wherever you go. Huh, maybe he is jealous. And if not, he’s possessive. It makes your cunt pulse harder just thinking about it, your arousal helping his head slide nicely against your bundle of nerves and the softness of your stomach.

“I’m yours, you know that right?” Not replying, he instead inhales the sweat from your neck, following it with a dip of his tongue up towards your ear.

“James.”

Your boyfriend scoffs lightly, a small smirk on his face as he pulls your chin up to meet him at eye level. You’re so gorgeous like this, just letting him do what he wants to you. Always so reassuring of his needs. His thumb rubs against your bottom lip before you open your mouth and swirl your tongue around clean skin.

“Just feels like I have to remind you sometimes, pretty girl. Can’t let everyone walk around thinking you’re not mine.”

“I wouldn’t mind a reminder. Some marks would be nice too,” you grin, biting at his lip while your hands stroke him slowly, your own knees buckling in excitement.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Brat.” James hoists your legs over his hips, slamming your back into the wall as you squeak. Sandwiched between the warmth of his body and the cold of the shower wall, your eyes roll back as he eases his cock between your dripping folds, moans falling from your lips when he sinks into you, inch by inch.

His girth always has a way of stretching you open, and every time feels like the first as he taps at your thigh reminding you to take deep breaths. Fuck the party, you could stay here all night.

“Fill you up so nicely…we’re almost there, good girl.” His voice shakes, wanting to slam the rest of him straight into your cervix.

Your hands are gripping his shoulders until you finally feel him nudge the deepest parts of you, and you sigh when it all fits. Perfect.

“Always so big Jamie. Almost too much.” He kisses your cheek, hips starting to create a rhythm as he mutters into your ear.

“Not too much for my girl. Just perfect. Perfect pussy for this cock. All for you,” he grits, skin sliding and slapping as your thighs get pressed into your chest with the intense force he’s plunging into your guts.

“James, fuck….fuck you’re so deep! Feels so fucking good!” Filthy whimpers leave you and he loves the sound of your desperation when he’s inside of you like this. Too bad there’s no one else here to hear it. If Steven could only see you now.

“Such a good cunt for me to use. Only mine.”

He gasps for air as his feet slip against the tile once more, his heavy breathing fogging up his glasses, and his hold on you just as tight as your grip on his cock. Shit. His heart almost fell through his ass.

Your eyes open to see him struggling and a giggle escapes your mouth as you watch the stupid fucked out look on his face.

“How do people even fuck in the shower? This shit’s dangerous. Don't wanna maim the Gryffindor captain again.”

Your laughter sends jolts down to his throbbing shaft and he shakes his head with a smile, parting the curtain with one hand before carrying you still impaled on him towards the metal benches, placing you down softly.

“At least you finally admit it was your fault, baby. Could barely see straight for a week after.”

He wipes his glasses between his fingers before gazing at you lying across the bench, legs spread and ready for him. What a woman.

“And here I am hoping that when you’re done with me I won’t be able to walk for a week after,” you breathe, hands squeezing your tits as his pupils dilate further at the sight of you. What a fucking witch!

“Fucking hell, you know I love you, right?”

James positions himself over you, kissing your ankle as he sheathes himself back into your sex, resuming his brutal pace and hurtling you quickly towards your peak.

“Y-yes! Merlin, fuck I… looove you!” you wail, hips rolling to meet his and his balls strike your ass hard with each thrust. Your insides are being shifted around with him spearing your cervix like this and there’s nothing in this world that you could name that’s able to compare to how he makes you feel.

Your pussy contracts as he somehow nestles himself deeper, body trembling in this position as he throws your left leg over his shoulder, lips chasing your nipples trying to suck the life out of you, and perhaps that was his plan so you could forget anyone else but him.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop, James. Don’t you fucking DARE!” you beg, clawing your way down his back, making him nip at you in pleasure as you draw pinpricks of blood.

The tight pressure of release starts creeping at your core, making you squirm under him but he pins your waist down harder to the bench, the metal leaving prints against your flesh. His hands press harder on your stomach, silently encouraging you to cum and you can feel the imprint of his dick bulging from inside your stomach.

“Don’t struggle for me baby, just let it go. I know you wanna cum…. That’s it.” James praises in a shattered breath, watching you writhe underneath him as he holds you close. Your legs are shaking as your vision goes black for a moment, cunt gushing with release and squirt coats his pubic hair as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You lay there, catching your breath as the stars clear from your vision, and you look up at him stroking himself to the sight of you coming undone.

“Sheesh, look at the mess you made. You okay?”

“More than okay, Jamie. Need you to finish the job,” you tease, toes grazing the skin of his hip and he slaps at your thigh with a smile.

“Insatiable minx. Turn around then, ass up f’me.”

You do as he says, getting on all fours and showing him the perfect round of your asscheeks, covered in milky residue from your recent orgasm, but you turn to look at him when he doesn’t come near.

“Babe?”

His locker clinks open as he pulls a fresh jersey out, walking back to you and guiding it over your head and arms as you smile, pecking his cheek. Your silly boy. There was no way you actually thought you hated him this time last year with how sweet he really is. His large hand grazes the embroidered patches now resting on your back, POTTER, in huge white letters, CAPTAIN, now resting at the base of your spine.

James’ eyes drift lower and he hums at the sight of you perched on the bench, dropping his face to your throbbing holes and taking a long swipe with the flat of his tongue as he savors your taste along with the sounds of your whining. From your swollen clit to the ring of your asshole he’s languishing in a flavor that’s so uniquely you, and he pulls back, smacking his lips.

“Scrumptious. How are you hotter with clothes on?” James grins, taking a playful bite of an asscheek before he slaps it lightly and stuffs you deep, without any further hesitation. Your sarcastic reply is lost in a moan that makes your toes curl.

He works you open onto his cock again, your back arching desperately to be as close as possible and his hand presses you down, sliding up your spine until his fingers curl around strands of your hair. Tits swinging until they’re crushed against the bench, your face is smooshed as you mumble pathetically in his grasp.

“What was that baby? Can’t hear you well…” He spits at you, and if anyone could see this they’d know he was enjoying the sight of you at his mercy. He grinds his shaft against your walls, ramming against your g-spot and you drool like a mindless plaything, greedy for his attention.

“Right…right fucking there, ohmygod!” His cock pummels your cunt deliciously, hands spreading your cheeks wide and the stretch is so good, perfectly stroking the need in your belly.

“You’re so needy, pretty girl. You love it like this, huh? Good thing I fuck you so well, right?”

Merlin, this boy can pull orgasms out of you as well as he plays quidditch. He’s the only person in the world you’d gladly submit and be this pathetically cockdrunk for. Good thing he's yours.

“Yes…yes! So good Jamie. No one can fuck me like you….”

The white-hot sensation digs at your insides as his fingers fall to your clit, rubbing at you just the way you like as shockwaves shake every crevice of your being. He's breathing over your neck, hot air puffing and elevating your senses before they shut down completely.

“Yeah? Then come on my cock again right now. Show me you like it that much. Now.”

Your arms give out, falling completely forward as your body jerks in searing pleasure, pussy fluttering around his cock once more, so intensely. Your hands flail behind you until they find his, and he's pulling you up against his hard chest as he bounces you onto his length and chases his high.

“Give it to me, please, please… I can take it!” You’re screaming now, at the intersection between pain and pleasure but wanting to make sure you can milk him for his efforts. James’ thrusts stagger as he leans his head on your shoulder, biting you as he cums hard.

“I know you can, baby. All yours…” he chokes out.

Thick white ropes coat your insides, wrapping you tight around him like a present until the excess seeps out to the base of his cock. You kiss his temple as James starts to regulate his breathing.

“Fuck. Fuck….” you drag out, the two of you more winded than you were playing the damn game.

“I still have to return Steven’s jersey,” you mumble, and James can’t do anything but smirk at the thought of the clueless boy standing outside your House's locker room while he fucked you senseless a few doors over. What a shame.

—

The two of you walk hand in hand into the Gryffindor common room to a crowd of students cheering for James. The party is well underway and many hands clap his now injured back, to which his grimaces make you bite back a laugh. Speaking of bites….

Sirius walks up to you with two cups of punch, wide grey eyes zeroed in on you wearing James’s jersey and the glaring red marks of your boyfriend’s teeth on your neck.

“Merlin. I thought you two would take time to celebrate on your own but did you fucking attack her?”

You both take the cups out of his hands, searing blushes on your faces and leave Sirius to his own imagination before James whispers in your ear that he’ll be gone for a moment.

“Okay, but hurry back, baby.”

A peck on the lips sends him on his way to walk straight towards that wanker–er, Steven with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Potter! Have you seen–” the dumb boy says eagerly, before James cuts in, “Yeah, my girlfriend couldn’t meet you earlier, sorry mate.”

His hand digs into the undetectable extension charm in his knapsack, pulling out a soggy, ripped jersey.

“We were kind of busy, but you know how to fix that don’t you? You’ll need it to keep you warm on the bench for the rest of the season after all.”

It plops sadly onto the floor in front of the guy, and James looks at him, hazel eyes conveying what he knows he doesn’t have to remind him anymore.

“Thanks again! Appreciate you looking out for my girl.”

He walks away from Steven, who’s sputtering sad excuses and your eyes meet his as James finds you near the drinks table.

“What did you do?” You say with a lifted brow.

“Nothing, pretty girl. Just making known what’s mine.”

—

"you are pressing against me

like i press flowers

against the pages in my book.

you are kissing my neck

and it feels like the start of forever.

i want to touch you until my palms burn."

-amirae garcia

taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue

#james potter x reader #james potter x reader smut #guys i really lost the plot w this one #made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #marauders era

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nyoomiin · 16 days

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roommates: part ten.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

prev. masterlist. next.

You can't breathe. You can't breathe and it hurts and it burns and oh god, are you dying?

You jerk upright, chest heaving, skin slick with cold sweat. Your hand reaches for your heart, and it scorches with a fiery rage. You died. You were dead. You were killed. You had died and then you hadn't and you had lived a lifetime in a moment and —

Someone's calling your name.

Your vision clears.

A white bed. Oakwood flooring. Sunlit windows. Someone by your side.

Kunikuzushi.

His eyes are wide, marred with concern, and for a second, you can't tell which Kunikuzushi you're looking at.

“Are you okay?” someone else squeaks. It takes you seconds to remember her name. Paimon.

No, you want to snap, but that wouldn't be very fair to her. She wasn't the reason you were feeling like you had been thrown down the Palace of Alcazazaray, then fallen into a rose bush of thorns.

“I need some space,” you say, swallowing thickly.

Aether nods understandingly. You stand, legs shaky, and Kuni moves to follow you out the door.

“You should leave them be for now,” Nahida cautions him.

You can’t see his expression, but you can hear the growl in his undertone. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

You turn to him, and his agitation melts into something softer. He doesn’t expect you’d send him away. But… you don’t have the strength to face him just yet. How could you have, after everything? Was that even the right way to phrase it?

He must see it on your face. He glances away.

“I’m sorry,” you offer weakly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Crossing his arms, he raises a fine brow, as if there wasn’t any reason to be apologizing at all. You suppose there isn’t, but you feel bad all the same. He waves you away. “Sure.”

Shutting the door behind you, you duck into an empty hallway, back hitting the wall. Archons, you think. What a clusterfuck.

You find yourself staggering into Alhaitham’s office. You don’t even know how you got there, but with the way your feet ached, you supposed you had walked. For a second, you wonder why you hadn’t gone home instead. Stupid thought. Kunikuzushi is bound to be there.

Alhaitham’s gaze flicks upwards at you, then back down to his work. Still, he shifts, making some space for you. “You look unwell.”

“Nice to know,” you say, flopping down next to him. Your cheek smushes against his arms. Honestly, this man did nothing but sit around reading all day — why the fuck was he so fit? He was nothing like Kuni. That scrawny ass could never compare, both in the present and back then —

You stop yourself there before your train of thought can derail any further. Suddenly curious, you turn to Alhaitham quickly. “‘Haitham, do you… believe in past lives?”

He gives you an odd look.

“There is no scientific proof on the existence of reincarnation,” he replies slowly. Then, he pauses, and he has that slight squinty-eyed look on his face again, also known as the face he makes whenever he thinks about Kaveh. “Though, I assume my past life would’ve been much less insufferable without having to deal with someone like Kaveh.”

You roll your eyes. Insufferable, he says, as if Kaveh was someone he could ever live without. Sighing, you massage your temples. Gods if you weren’t exhausted. You need your brain to shut up and stop thinking about anything related to all this nonsense.

“I’m going to sleep on you,” you tell Alhaitham.

“You can sleep in your home.”

“But you’re more comfortable.”

( You were avoiding him.

He had expected it wouldn’t take more than a week to settle your thoughts, yet two had passed, and you showed no sign of seeking him out at all. Worse still, these days, it felt as though he lived in an apartment for one. You’d leave at dawn and return after dusk, claiming you were too tired to speak with him. You stopped meeting his gaze and that bright, stupidly endearing grin you always wore turned tight and pressed thin.

How utterly unamusing.

He refuses to let this drag on any longer. Frankly, the entire situation should’ve been resolved weeks ago — and you’d have gone back to being yourself. Bothersome and foolish and the only person in the world he’d allow to treat him the way you did.

Tonight, he decides. He’d speak with you tonight, even if it was the last thing he did. )

taglist. (send an ask to be added.)

@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth @thenyxsky @kiyiiaarchived @skyvella @theautisticduck @someonealreadyhadmynickname @wanderersumbrella

#—stellaronhvnters.#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #man its been awhile #JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT THEN THE EPILOGUE I THINK #☝️☝️☝️💪💪💪

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underground-secret · 2 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

Scarecrow

(Master List, Prev. Chapter, Next Chapter)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She sighs, “I’m worried about you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.” Dean nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sam.” Dean warns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, dear friends,” I answered.

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would I say sorry?” he counters.

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

“I think it’d kill us either way”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice tat indeed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sundown.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah we’re sure” The girl insists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Thinking the same,” He answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles, “ ‘Night baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t ask.” Dean responds.

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

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

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

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

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

“God no” I scuff.

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

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

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

“What makes you say that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam laughs, “What do you mean issue?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“Call me when you find Dad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I, uh–I stole a car.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I think you’re stuck with me.”

“What made you change your mind?”

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #john winchester #slow burn #witch reader #witchcraft #dean winchester x witch reader #dean winchester x f!reader #the hunter and the witch #the hunter and the witch update #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #angst #arguing

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starksbabie · 3 months

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The Ink That Binds Us - Chapter 5

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Summary: In the weeks following your heat Roy has been keeping Gator extra busy, so you're missing your Alpha. Gator takes it upon himself to make sure you know he'd do anything for you, give you anything you want because you are his.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmates AU, A/B/O, smut, 18+ mdni, soulmates have matching tattoos, Gator Tillman (he’s his own warning). p in v, creampie, oral (fem receiving), breeding kink, reader takes a pregnancy test, use of pet names.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: It's here! Sorry for the delay I have been wrapped up in a Prince Steve AU so be on the lookout for that coming soon!

Once again, you woke up alone in your nest. It has been two weeks since your heat, and you’ve barely seen your new mate.

Gator slinks out of bed before dawn, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before he goes, and does not return until long after dark if he returns at all.

Sometimes he’s been opting to stay at his father’s ranch since most of his belongings still reside there, and it leaves him closer to be at Roy’s beck and call.

You climb out of bed to begin your day, heading to the kitchen and wondering if Gator even made it home last night.

Blossom 🌸 8:02 am: I miss you. The nest is beginning to smell wrong. Like you’re missing.

His reply comes just a few minutes later.

Gator 🐊 8:09 am: Dad’s got a lot going on so I have to be in charge for a while. I’ll be home for dinner tonight. I promise.

You smile and bounce on the balls of your feet looking around the kitchen, you’re going to make the best dinner you can, your alpha’s been working hard. He deserves this.

Gator pulls into the drive long after dark. He’s absolutely, overwhelmingly, exhausted, but he’s surprised to see lights still on in the house. Usually, you’ve been asleep for hours by this point. That’s when he remembers. He promised to be home for dinner.

“Shit.” He curses under his breath.

He hops out of the truck and quickly walks up the path, jumping the stairs before letting himself in.

What he finds there nearly breaks his heart.

You’re lying on the couch, wearing his favorite dress, it’s obvious you fell asleep waiting on him.

And he can smell fresh-baked oatmeal-raisin cookies, and steak and potatoes. He knows you must have worked hard all day for him and he couldn’t even show up when he said he would.

‘Deserves better’ his alpha snaps from the back of his mind.

He pushes that down, walks over to the couch kneels, and softly runs his hand over your hair.

“Blossom, wake up, baby.” He mumbles, gently shaking you.

“Hmm?” You groan softly, waking up.

You blink up at him, your eyes half-lidded and tired.

“You’re home,” you smile sleepily, “I missed you.”

You sit up and wrap your arms around his neck pulling him close. He buries his face in your neck as he climbs up onto the couch with you, lying down on top of you, inhaling your scent.

“Missed you too, Omega. M’sorry, I’m late.”

You gently run your fingers through his hair, softening the slicked-back locks into the soft tendrils you love.

“S’okay-“ you begin.

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. Fuck…” he groans softly, arguing with his Alpha.

You hold him for a long moment. Letting him gently crush you into the couch cushions.

“I’ve been a shit Alpha. You deserve someone who takes care of you. Who takes you out on dates? Who is good to you? Not me… not this fuck up.” He mumbles into your neck.

“Gator, look at me.” You say softly.

He refuses, sinking further into your scent and his self-doubt.

You sink your fingers into his hair and gently tug at the roots.

“Gator Tillman. Look at me.” You say, using the sternest tone he’s ever heard from you.

He raises his head and looks at you, a little perplexed by that tone.

“You are not a shit Alpha, and I never want to hear those words ever again. You’re my Alpha. Mine. I don’t care about going out on dates, and you’re very good to me.” You say, looking directly into his eyes, refusing to be the one to look away first.

He leans in and rests his forehead against yours, basking in your words, for a moment.

“But what about-“

“Gator, I swear,” you say, effectively cutting him off.

He lets out a soft little laugh.

“Don’t go turning into a brat now.” He says softly, brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“Then don’t act like a knothead.” You mumble softly, spreading your legs so he can slot between them.

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces, completing one another as he presses his lips against yours in a slow, gentle drag, his chapped lips against your pillow-soft ones.

You pull away and press a small, soft kiss on his head.

“My Alpha, perfect for me.” You whisper against his skin.

He wraps his arms around you and buries his face back into the crook of your neck, softly kissing your mating mark as he falls asleep.

You hold him close and close your eyes as well, letting yourself relax and be lulled into sleep. Comforted by your Alpha.

You wake up the next morning and groan softly, stiff from having slept on the couch but feeling more at peace and well-rested than you have in days.

You softly card your fingers through Gator’s soft hair, relishing the sleepy sounds he makes as he wakes up.

“Good morning, handsome.” You whisper.

“Mornin’ Blossom.” He mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

You smile, you relish this, this softness, that no one else gets to be privy to. Something that is only between the two of you.

“You want me to make ya some breakfast before your shift?” You ask, as you softly run your hand up and down his spine, unable to keep your hands off him.

He relaxes into you a little more.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all, handsome. C’mon. Get up. You get ready, and I’ll fix you something to eat.” You kiss his cheek before dropping your arms from around him.

He rolls off the couch, less than gracefully, before popping up and helping you stand.

He drops a kiss to the top of your head, before heading off to the shower.

You step into the kitchen and begin to fix him some breakfast.

Eggs, toast, bacon. Doing your very best to have it all finished at the same time.

Gator steps into the kitchen, hair slicked back, holster around his thigh, and the rest of his gear situated just right.

You both sit to eat, and you watch as he devours his food, as always. Light conversation about plans for the day.

As per usual, Gator can’t tell you much about anything. You try to not let it bother you. Even though it does.

You hold onto his vest as he kisses you hard before he leaves. His tongue slid alongside yours, his hands squeezing your hips, pulling you flush against him, making sure you’ll think about nothing but him all day long.

After your shift at the diner, you stop at the pharmacy to pick up a few things. You walk past the pads and tampons and pause. You do the mental math and your eyes go a little wide.

Your hand instinctually rests on your lower belly.

“Oh my god…” you bite your lip and glance at the tests next to you. You grab one and toss it in your basket before you can think too hard about it.

Once you get home, you sit in the bathroom on top of the closed toilet lid and stare at the package.

“This is silly… it was one heat. There’s no way…” you toss the test into the drawer and head back into the living room to watch some mindless television.

However, it’s like the test is mocking you from the other room.

Soon you find yourself back in the bathroom, the foil ripped open, and you take the test. You sit on the floor with the test on the edge of the tub as you wait for the results.

Your hand once again goes to rest on your lower belly.

“You’re going to be so loved…” you smile softly.

A few minutes later you lift the test and it’s like a rock develops where your heart should be.

Only one line.

Negative.

“Oh.”

You suddenly feel so silly and stupid for your behavior. You quickly toss everything in the trash bin as your eyes well with tears.

You’re not even sure why you’re so upset. It’s not even something you were really thinking about, but now that it’s not happening you’re crushed.

You move to the bedroom and crawl into your next hiding yourself under your blankets as the tears begin to fall. ‘Bad Omega, failure.’ Your omega whispers in the back of your mind. That’s where Gator finds you.

He’d come home expecting to find you in the kitchen making dinner, or at least in the living room watching something on the TV. When he doesn’t see you he begins looking around calling out for you, becoming a little more panicked when you don’t respond.

When he finally finds you buried in your nest he’s concerned.

“Blossom? What’s wrong, Omega?” He sits next to you softly cupping your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears.

You turn your head away from him hiding yourself from his gaze.

“Don’t. Look at me,” He says, “Omega, what is going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s s-stupid.” You mumble into the sheets

“It��s not stupid if it’s made you this upset. C’mon little one. Tell me what’s wrong.” He says, lifting your chin so he can look at you.

You pause for a long moment looking up at him, thinking about how you want to tell him.

“I took a pregnancy test.” You finally say. The words slipping out easier than you thought they would.

His face lights up, and that joy you see on his face, it kills you. It makes you feel even worse because you know what you have to say next, but he interrupts you before you can get the words out.

“Omega mine. Why would you be upset about that? A baby is amazing.” He smiles and he moves to put his hand on your belly but you know if he touches you there you’ll scream.

“It was negative.” you choke out.

“Oh…” he pauses and lays down pulling you close, letting you rest your head on his chest.

You hold onto him nuzzling your face into his scent gland, calming yourself.

“I didn’t know you wanted a baby so badly.” He whispers.

“Neither did I.” You say, your lips softly brushing against his skin.

He tries to contain the shiver that runs through him at the feeling of your lips on him.

“But I do,” you whisper, “please Alpha?”

He groans and rolls over on top of you pinning you to the mattress.

“You’re killing me, Omega,” He softly rolls his hips against yours as he kisses you, “I’ll give you a pup. Fuck one into this cute belly of yours. Make you a mommy.”

He takes his time, slowly peeling away each layer of clothing. Pressing kisses to every inch of newly revealed skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I’m the luckiest Alpha alive.” He growls as he slips your panties off, and situates himself between your thighs, inhaling deeply.

You blush at his actions, lying back in your nest.

“Fuck, you smell so sweet for me. M’gonna get you nice and wet. So ready to take my cock, okay?” He slowly trails kisses up your inner thigh before burying his face in your cunt, tracing his tongue up and down your slit as his large hands hook under your thighs and settle on your hips.

You gasp softly and close your eyes, settling more into the feelings. The softness of your nest, the roughness of Gator’s hands on your hips, the soft wet sounds of his tongue between your thighs, and the pleasure he brings you.

He begins to softly suck on your clit as you begin to get wetter, he moans and the vibrations cause you to arch your back.

“Good girl, Blossom. That’s right. Grind on my tongue, sweet girl.” He moans again.

You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out his name, the flames of pleasure licking up your spine.

He slips two fingers into your entrance, your wetness making it easy, as he curls them and massages the soft spongy spot he knows drives you insane.

You dig your heels into his back trying to scramble away from him as you reach that precipice. Your Alpha only holds you tighter refusing to let you run from your own pleasure.

You scream out his name as you come apart on his tongue.

He laps up your essence before pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand smirking.

“Fuckin’ delicious, Omega.”

You blush and hide your face in the crook of your elbow.

He grabs your hand and uncovers your face smirking down at you.

“Hey there pretty girl.”

“Hi.” You smile softly looking up at him.

He holds your hands down on either side of your head and kisses you softly as you wrap your legs around his hips, the head of his cock nudging gently against your clit once, twice, before he presses into you.

He groans softly against your lips, “holy shit, Omega… how are you always so fuckin’ tight?”

He gives you a moment to adjust before he begins slowly rolling his hips against yours. Each thrust was measured, slow and deep.

“Feels so good, Alpha. Always feels so good.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him, clinging to him.

He presses his forehead to yours, taking his time as the pace of his thrusts speeds up, still just as deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time he presses into the hilt.

“You feel like heaven, my love. I’m gonna give you a baby sweet Omega. Gonna give you everything you want. I promise.” He kisses you deeply as he gets closer, picking up speed as he gets closer.

You gasp softly at his words, “I’m close Alpha, please.”

“I know, Omega. I can feel you squeezing me. I’m almost there. Gonna fill you up. Gonna give you all of me. Fuck… wait for me, baby.” He growls softly.

He holds you close and kisses you deeply the curly hairs at the base of his cock stimulating your clit in just the right way as he grinds his hips into yours.

He thrusts a couple more times as he cums deep inside you, his thick spend painting your inner walls as you gasp and come hard around him.

“That’s right, Omega. Doing so good for me. Taking me so well. Love you so much.” He holds you close as you both come down from your euphoria.

“Love you too, Alpha. Thank you… thank you.”

You press soft kisses everywhere you can reach, keeping your legs up and wrapped around him.

He presses his hand down on your lower belly.

“This is where my pups will grow. Just give it time, Omega mine. Just give it time.”

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#alpha!gator tillman x omega!reader #gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator x reader #gator smut #gator fargo #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo s5 #onyx writes things #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x you #gator tillman fic #gator tillman imagine #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au

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99hook · 10 months

Text

Personal Photographer

Synopsis: he wants to vividly remember what you look like when you’re coming undone for him

18+ it’s nothing but smut and tooth aching sweet shit cause I couldn’t help myself lmao

Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, dirty talk, picture taking in the act (if that’s even a warning idk)

A/N:This is one of the ones you all collectively pitched concepts and ideas on and I just ran with it! Enjoy babes! Keep an eye out for your requests over the next few days and lmk if you wanna be tagged! 🫶🏼

Tyler always took pictures for you when you couldn’t be with him. Everywhere he went, he made sure he brought that camera and snapped some shots of places or things you would’ve loved to see. It was also a good way for him to remember where to take you when he gets some time off. At this point, he has certain places he wants you to see all across the country.

“You’ll love this place.” He shows you the picture of a beach he checked out. “The water was so clear and blue. I know you don’t wanna get in unless you can see what’s around you, so we’ll have to go there one day too.”

You smiled as you raked your fingers through his hair, and he mindlessly rubbed your legs that were stretched out across his lap. You leaned your head against his shoulder and placed a single kiss to it.

“Missed you so much.” You whispered against his skin. He glanced down at you, cheeks a tad bit rosier than usual before he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pushed some hair off of your shoulder and placed a series of hot, wet kisses down the side of your neck before he set the camera down and picked you up, taking you to the bedroom.

“I’ll show you the rest later. We have lost time to make up for right now.”

He’d only been gone for five days but it felt like eternity for both of you. He really wanted to take things slow tonight, but there was a neediness taking over that he couldn’t control. As much as he wanted to make slow, sweet love, the look of you laying underneath him wearing nothing but his t-shirt and panties was simply driving him wild.

He hovered over you letting his eyes roam. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. You know that?”

The shade of your cheeks deepened and he smirked at how shy you still got when he complimented you. It was his goal to make sure you always knew how beautiful you are to him, and make sure you wholeheartedly believed it, too.

He leaned down and placed a tender kiss to your lips, letting them linger for a moment. He felt your hands roam his back, nails gently digging into his skin, and a sly smirk formed on his lips when he picked up on your own neediness for him. As always, it was mutual.

The tips of your noses brushed before your lips connected again, this time far more intense and fueled by the desperation for each other. One of his hands cupped your jaw while the other one roamed down to the hem of your (his) shirt, sliding up your thigh until he found a drenched spot on your panties.

You felt him smile against you and let a little chuckle slip. He already knew the affect he had on you but it was always appreciated when he could physically feel it without even trying.

Your breath hitched in your throat when he used his middle finger to push your panties aside. A sudden series of needy moans and short gasps were lost within his mouth when he started gliding the pad of that same finger up and down and collecting all those sweet juices just to use them as lubrication for when he does this.

Another smirk effortlessly plays on his lips when your nails dig into his back. He pushed his finger between your walls, up to the last knuckle and curled it against your g-spot slowly. He pulled back to watch you, one of his absolute favorite things to do.

His eyes intently studied your reactions as pride swelled within him. Just one finger and you were a moaning mess beneath him. He liked to play around with the rhythm to find what you liked best and by now he’s got the sequence down like second nature.

Three pumps against your sweet spot slowly, then five quicker, rougher ones. You spread your thighs as far as they’d go but involuntarily shut them around his hips when he started rubbing circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. His mouth slightly fell open as he watched you, brows furrowed in concentration as he made a mental record to give you as many orgasms as you possibly wanted tonight.

“Fuck you’re so hot like this” his voice was filled with an edgy rasp that had your head spinning. “I can feel you tightening around me, you’re already so close you can probably taste it, can’t you baby?”

All you could do was nod eagerly as your mouth fell open and strained gasps and broken whimpers flew threw the air. You started squirming around, hips bucking to match the pumps of his finger and he felt the sudden warmth against his skin, and the way your walls throbbed around him.

“Oh fuck, Tyler I-“

“Mhm, record time” he muttered before he dipped down and latched his lips to your neck, sucking your skin roughly to add to the sensations of it all. “I can feel it babygirl” he muttered against you, “can feel you coming around my finger, fuck I can’t wait until it’s my cock your coming on”

Within seconds you were hit with a high that nearly blinded you. Tyler knew exactly how to ride you through it, and he made sure you were trembling until the very last second. He pulled back again to look at you, sliding his finger out and bringing it to your lips, tracing the wetness across your bottom one before he watched you open your mouth to invite it in.

You could’ve swore you saw that man internally lose it when your lips cupped around his finger and sucked your own juices clean off with a smirk. Within a split second he pulled that finger out and replaced it with his lips. A teeth clashing, tongue fighting type of kiss that sucked the air right out of your lungs.

Your panties were swiftly pulled all the way down to your ankles and you kicked them onto the floor while he raised your shirt up to your neck and leaned up on his knees, quickly sliding his sweats down to his thighs, along with his boxers and grabbing his hard shaft in his hand.

Your eyes fell to it, widening slightly. You’d seen it a trillion and one times but for some reason it always surprised you when it stood proudly. You were always certain you couldn’t take all of him but somehow you did.

The corner of his lips lifted at your reaction before he wrapped a hand underneath your thigh and pulled you down from the pillows you were propped up on. He tapped the tip against your clit three times, then eyed you as he slipped between your walls, but couldn’t help but let his own eyes roll when he felt you squeezing around him.

“Fuck.” He muttered underneath his breath, tipping his head back for a moment. He looked back down at you and the way your brows were knitted tightly together, a general response to his size that he always adored seeing.

He brought his hand up to cup your jaw, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip as he pushed all the way in, and when your mouth fell open, his thumb took the invitation in. You sucked on it, eyes on him doing your best not to close them. His lips parted and a look of pure euphoria washed over his face, but as soon as it was there, it vanished.

You could practically see the gears turning in his mind. An idea forms and he can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before.

“Hold up, let me grab something real quick.” He pulls out of you and slides off the bed, leaving the room for a moment to return with his camera in hand and a boyish grin on his face.

You glanced down at it and then back up at him questionably.

“Will you let me do this? I promise nobody will ever see these. I would have to kill them if they did.”

He made his way back between your thighs and waited for your answer. There wasn’t a lot of uncertainty around it. You were just a little self conscious and he knew that, but this was a part of wanting you to realize how stunning you are.

“Okay.” You whispered, watching as his eyes lit up. He set the camera next to him and pushed back in, a little rougher this time. He was now on a mission to pull more reactions from you. He wanted to capture every single thing you did in these moments. Everything he made you feel.

He hiked your leg up, your ankle resting on his shoulder as he pulled out, almost fully, just to slam back into you with a force that had the headboard hitting the wall.

Once he picked up the pace and had you consistently moaning and whimpering beneath him, he grabbed the camera, never once slowing down as he held it up and snapped the pictures he was going to be looking at a lot when he was away from you.

“You’re so fucking hot right now gorgeous” he praises as he captures your blissed face, coupled with your shirt riding up to your neck and your breasts on full display for him. He took his hand and cupped one of them, snapping a picture of that.

Any sense of insecurity that you originally had was washed away in that moment. He was admiring your body while he simultaneously fucked into you. Some of the pictures were probably going to be blurry as he picked up the pace but those were going to be memorable anyway.

He angled the camera down to where his cock disappeared between your walls and gripped your hip with one hand, taking a picture of that too. Two, to be exact.

“You are a fucking masterpiece.”

You moaned to his praises and reached up for him. He placed the camera down and leaned down, holding your ankle against his shoulder as he rocked into you. You were an absolute mess of whines and moans and shortly you were going to be screaming his name and he knew it.

That’s exactly what he was aiming for.

He put all his focus into making you come harder than you ever have. He wanted to see everything he could possibly do to you. He wanted to make this something you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about next time he has to leave.

“You’re taking me so well, baby.” He praises. He reaches over and finds your hand, intertwining your fingers and pinning it over your head. His forehead presses against yours and he looks down between your sweaty bodies and watches his length disappear into you.

“That tight little pussy is squeezing my cock like your life depends on it.” He grits his teeth as he pulls his hips back and crashes back into you, earning a squeal to echo through the room. A sound he knows he hasn’t yet heard from you, and one he wishes he could hear forever.

“Like that?” He breathlessly starts to pant. All you can do his nod and hum a response. Any words you have ever learned in your life are long forgotten.

He picked up on your body language and switched the pace, pulling out to snap back in, hitting your sweet spot just right every single time.

His hand gave yours a squeeze when he felt your walls clench down around him and he knew then and there that you were on the edge of an all consuming orgasm and he wanted to make absolute certain that it was going to leave you in shambles.

“Look at me” he demanded as he pulled back and hovered above you. You felt his grip around your hand loosen and his fingers slip away before he cupped your jaw instead. “You wanna come?” He quirked a brow, watching as you nodded needily.

“Need to hear you say it. What do you want?” His hips snapped in and you swore you could feel it in your stomach.

“Yes! Fuck yes tyler!” You shouted, your voice strained and rasped.

“Yes what?” His tone grew deep and thick as he continued rocking into you, sending your mind far off from your own body.

“I want to come!” You cried out. “I’m so close, I need it! I need to come so fucking bad!”

“What’s stopping you?” A condescending edge lingered. “Need me to fuck you harder?” and before you could even respond, he dropped your leg off of his shoulder and rose up to his knees, wrapping his hands under your thighs and hiking them up to his waist to hit at an even deeper angle.

His thrusts sped up and his cock drove even deeper, hitting a spot you didn’t even know you had that caused tears to prick the corners of your eyes. You tried to look up at him but he was a blur and when you squeezed your eyes shut all you saw was a white, blinding light.

“That’s my girl. Taking all of me so fucking well.” He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly and your breasts bouncing from the impact and he knew it wasn’t going to be long for him either.

“Oh God!” You cried out. Your stomach was churning as a warmth spread rapidly through your veins and Tyler could see that you were seconds away from coming completely and utterly undone.

He quickly grabbed the camera and held it up, thrusts still strong as he tried with all his might to fight his own release. The moment he felt that warm sensation engulf him, your walls throbbing around him, he snapped a photo, probably his favorite one, for that matter.

You pressed your head hard against the pillows, back arching high off of mattress as he kept fucking into you, praising you as he helped you ride out that high.

“That’s it baby, thats what you needed.” He felt it himself, and he was able to give into it now. “Im about to fill you up, I want you dripping for me when you get up in the morning. Then ima fuck it all back into you.”

His thrusts got stronger yet sloppier. You felt his fingertips digging into the skin of your thighs as he watched you, still consumed by your own orgasm.

“Ima make sure you stay filled up with me when I’m home. Not gonna be a time my come isn’t dripping down these thighs.” He bends down and gives your inner thigh a series of kisses and a few bites in between, only adding to the euphoria you were succumbed in.

“And when im gone, you’re gonna remember this. Remember me fucking you how you deserve to be. ‘Cause I’ll be back to do it all over again.”

You could hardly comprehend him due to the ringing of your ears but you peered your eyes open and managed to catch his head tipping back, jaw clenched tight as he crashed into you three more times.

His hips stuttered then stilled, chest glistening with sweat and low groans buzzed through his throat as he did exactly what he said he was going to do.

It was then that you grabbed his camera, quickly sneaking a pic of him in that exact moment. His cock twitched and you felt the warmth fill you to the brim, watching as his chest heaved heavily and beads of sweat slid down from his collar bone to his torso.

He looked back down at you, clearly fucked out himself. His hair was sticking to his skin and lips parted and swollen, cheeks slightly rosy too.

He noticed the camera in your hands and pieced it all together through the brain fog.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece.” You whispered breathlessly, the corners of his mouth lightly twitched upwards. “I want that picture. Wanna remember that when you’re gone.”

He pulled out of you slowly and collapsed on top of you, holding his own weight with his elbows as he cradled your face. He placed two gentle kisses to your cheek before he pulled back with a dimpled grin.

“I won’t let you forget.”

#hook aew #aew hook #hook imagine #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #hook nation rise #hook #aew hook fluff #aew hook fanfic

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widowbitessting · 1 year

Text

A Trio of Brats

How would each of our ladies react/handle R, if while on the elevator up to the penthouse, during a heated discussion, R spanked their ass and said “you’re being a brat”? 😈

18+ ONLY. Minors Do Not Interact.

Pairing: NatashaxReader|WandaxReader|CarolxReader|NatashaxCarolxWandaxReader

Words: 8137

Warnings: Smut, so much smut, strap on, edging, fingering, mommy kink, daddy kink, captain kink, hair pulling, no touching allowed, punishments, Dom/Sub relationships [there’s more but I’ll tag later]

This is my own work. You are not allowed to copy, steal or claim as your own.

If you would like updates on my universe, please feel free to follow littlelivslibrary and make sure notifications are turned on; as a tag list is no longer an option.

- Natasha’s POV -

“You’re not bringing a puppy into the penthouse, Baby.”

You frown over at the back of Natasha’s head.

She is still standing facing away from you, gazing out of the windows.

While you stay near the doors.

She’s been standing like that ever since the two of you had walked into the elevator.

After you had been badgering her the entire car journey to be allowed to bring MJ’s puppy with you.

It’s safe to say you know you’re grating on Natasha; possibly reaching her limit - but does that stop you?

No.

Because there is a cute little puppy on the line.

You can’t back down now.

No. It’s too vital.

And you want to bring the puppy up to show Wanda and Carol.

No matter what Natasha, ever the bossy boots, says.

“I don’t get why though.”

“Because, dumb girl; I don’t want a flea covered, yapping thing let loose in my home. It was bad enough when you brought Hedwig here.”

Your mouth falls open.

“Hey that was mean! I’m not dumb!” You say. “And she doesn’t have fleas. MJ’s keeps amazingly good care of Spider-pup. And Hedwig was a wonderful guest.”

“For someone who frequently locks herself out of her house.” After hearing the name of the dog, Natasha finally looks around: “Spider…pup?”

“Yeah.” You reply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s dating Peter Parker…the biggest Spider-Man fanboy around. Plus, she couldn’t bring herself to yell Princess in the park.”

“And Spider-pup was the way to go, clearly.”

“Yeah.” You reply, edging forwards a little. “Plus I know Spider-pup has a thing for redheads too.”

Natasha’s eyebrows raise and you quickly back peddle.

“Not in a sexual way! She just loves red headed people. Like, adores them. She’d be on your lap all night, Natty.”

You’ve reached her now and you’re about to twirl some of Natasha’s red hair between your fingers, and offer her your best puppy dog eyes; when her hand grips your wrist tightly, stopping you.

“The mongrel still isn’t stepping a paw into my home, baby girl.” She growls. “Nice try.”

You try to snatch your hand away but the older woman holds you firm.

“Now stop pestering me over an animal, Y/N.”

You gasp.

“Did you just full name me?”

“Yes I did. Because you’re being a brat.”

“I’m hardly being a brat…” You reply, before adding on: “Natasha.”

You’re being slammed into the handlebar before you can even protest.

You’re now looking at the view outside, with the hand Natasha still has in a bruising grip, pinned behind your back.

You let out a whimper, moving as the bar digs uncomfortably into you.

“What did you just call me, Y/N?”

“I don’t remember?”

“Don’t. Lie.” Her free hand smacks your ass hard. “Don’t make me ask again.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“I called you Natasha.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

“Because…?” Another hard slap and you wince.

“Because I felt cocky.”

“Such a dumb little baby.” Natasha drags your other arm behind you; pinning both hands in one of hers. “What’s my name, little one?”

“N-”

She slaps your ass so hard this time that you let out a cry, trying to get your wrists free.

“Colour, kitten?”

“Yellow.”

Instantly Natasha spins you around and kisses you deeply; humming when you physically melt into her.

“Good girl, thank you for communicating with me.” She smiles down at you. “What’s my name?”

“Daddy.”

“Good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

“I’m still not letting that dog in my apartment.”

She lets you go, seemingly knowing that you’re nearing their apartment and as she walks, you catch her muttering something under her breath.

“You’re being a brat now.”

You slap Natasha’s ass before you can really stop yourself.

And end up swallowing thickly.

“Holy shit.”

Yep, you’re gonna die.

You’re dead.

MJ, you’d better say something good at my funeral.

Natasha turns around, completely ignoring the doors that are now opening.

“What was that?”

She’s glaring at you.

Daring you to say it again.

What the hell, right?

“You’re being the brat…” It’s nothing more than a whisper but you say it.

Natasha lets out a chuckle.

A low chuckle that has you quaking right where you stand.

You glance behind her at the doors which are now closing.

Natasha catches the door without taking her eyes from you.

“Well if I’m the brat then that makes you the Dom, baby.” Natasha steps out of the elevator. “So I think I’ll go ahead and put myself in a time out; you’ll be able to entertain yourself without me, won’t you?”

The colour drains from your face.

“What?”

Turning without another word, Natasha leaves you standing there, completely dumbfounded.

You’re quick to move when the doors shut you off from her, and you manage to weasel through, hot on Natasha’s heels.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

But you don’t get a response from her the entire walk up through the apartment and down to her office.

When she gets there, she offers you a glance and a small, smug smile, before vanishing quickly inside; shutting the door behind her.

For the entire hour she is in there, no matter how many times you knock on the door, attempt to pick the lock - something Natasha herself had taught you - and begged; literally begged, the red head just wouldn’t open the door.

For the entire hour.

The entire long and extremely boring hour.

You end up leaning your back against the door as you text MJ; doing nothing short of complaining of how mind numbingly bored you are, when the door suddenly shoots open and you’re sent flying backwards.

Landing in a thump between Natasha’s heeled feet.

“Hey detka, still here?”

“That was mean, Daddy.”

The red head shrugs.

“Have you finished being a brat?”

“Should I be asking you that question?” You ask.

“Another hour it is.”

You jump to your feet quickly.

“No, no! I’m sorry! Please.”

Natasha is smug as she keeps the door open for you and you scramble inside.

“Well seeing as you apologised…I think it’s time for the good girl to get her reward then…isn’t it…”

You all but jump into her open arms and wrap yourself around her like a koala.

Natasha attacks your neck with vigour, licking and biting at the skin you have to offer her, all the while walking you into the room towards her desk.

You squirm and let out a small whine.

“You’re packing.”

“Would you expect anything less from me, kitten?” she asks coyly.

Natasha drops you unceremoniously on her floor.

“No. Never.”

“Knees. Now.”

You get into position instantly, hands resting on your lap.

“Think you can suck my strap for me? Get it nice and wet for that pretty pussy, baby?”

Your mouth opens automatically, watching with eager eyes as she unzips her pants and takes out her strap.

“Look, baby girl. I made sure to choose your favourite too.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Natasha cups your face and rubs her thumb over your bottom lip.

“Such a good girl.” She says, “Now stick out that tongue.”

When you do, she spits directly onto it and makes you swallow.

“How did I get lucky to get such a good girl, hmm?” Natasha asks. “Can you suck daddy’s cock for me? Make me feel good?”

You surge forwards without needing anymore instruction.

Sucking most of it into your mouth, you move your hands to Natasha’s legs as you fight the urge to gag almost immediately.

You hear Natasha coo at you as you struggle.

Knowing this wasn’t your forte.

She grips the back of your head and gently guides you down her faux cock.

Enjoying the way your eyes are already brimming with tears.

You wretch loudly and Natasha coos you again.

“Poor baby, doing so well on my cock - such a good girl.”

Spit dribbles down your chin.

When your nose presses into the fabric of Natasha’s pants, you force yourself to breathe through your nostrils.

Trying so hard to stop gagging.

“You okay, detka?”

You give her a thumbs up and it urges her to continue.

Her grip on your hair tightens as she grabs the strands and pulls you back, before dragging you back down.

Over and over.

Until your throat has gotten used to her member.

Until you’re sucking her into your mouth with much more ease.

“There we go, little one. Get it nice and wet for your pussy.”

She fucks your face a few more times, softly pounding her hips into your mouth; forcing her cock down your throat.

When she pulls out, strings of spit still connect you to her strap.

It’s one of the hottest things Natasha has ever seen.

Your chin and neck are covered in drool.

Natasha leans down and kisses you sloppily, humming when you try to suck her tongue into your mouth,

Before hoisting you up off the floor and down onto her desk.

She automatically pulls at your shorts so fast that you’re sure they’re torn.

Natasha flips you on your stomach, fingers dipping into your wetness.

“So wet already, detka.” She murmurs, “did you miss daddy?”

She slaps your ass.

“I did; so much.” You pant, “I’m so sorry for being a brat. So, so, so sorry.”

“Thank you for all the apologies, baby.”

When she finally thrusts into you, your eyes all but roll back and your head screams: “Finally!”

You moan loudly.

So loudly.

“That’s it baby, taking my strap so well.”

Natasha keeps on slowly pushing inside of you, knowing that it's driving you mad.

Once she’s fully inside of you, she pauses for a second, allowing you to get used to her length, to the stretch that parts your walls, before she pulls out slightly and thrusts back in.

“Oh good girl.” Natasha sighs, pulling out again.

When she slams in, you let out a startled moan, near head butting her desk.

Her new pace is just brutal, holding your hips as she pounds over and over into you.

Natasha is chasing her high, just as you are yours.

The end of her strap rubs deliciously against her clit.

Mix that with your moans and the sounds coming from between your legs, Natasha is already close.

“You’re such a good girl when you want to be, kitten.” She lets out a shaky breath.

You preen under her words, shuffling on the desk as you start bouncing back on Natasha’s strap.

“That’s it slut, take my cock.”

You angle your hips down, jolting when it hits the spongy spot inside of you.

Oh, that feels so good.

Christ, how were you so close already?

But then again, you've lost all sense of time.

“Is my little baby gonna cum?” Natasha asks, voice slightly breathless.

“Uh-huh. Please, please can I cum, daddy?”

Not bothering to give you a verbal reply, Natasha pounds into so fast you’re sure the back of your thighs are going to bruise.

She watches with glee as your hands wrap around the edges of the desk to try and stop your body jolting with each thrust.

Your moans bounce off the walls.

The coil in your stomach tightens as Natasha constantly hits your g-spot.

“Cum. Cum now or don’t bother at all.”

Your orgasm is torn out of you, just as is the exhausted scream that follows; your legs tremble and you would have slid off the table right there and then if it wasn’t for Natasha holding your hips in death grips.

A few more thrusts and Natasha reaches her high too; slamming into you one final time before she lets out a whine and stills, body shuddering.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your legs have become jelly. Your pussy too sensitive to take anymore.

Natasha pulls out, quickly leaning down to lick a long strip through your folds before standing up straight and turning you round.

When she kisses you, all you can taste is your own arousal.

You pull back and lick the tip of her nose.

“Am I forgiven, daddy?”

“Yes, detka.” Natasha smiles. “How does a shower sound?”

“A shower sounds amazing.” You reply, grinning.

“Good.”

You reach down to pick up your shorts but the redhead snatches them from you.

“You won’t be needing them, silly girl.”

You can’t help but grin.

“Yes, daddy.”

You walk to the office door, turning when Natasha calls your name.

“I’m still not letting MJ’s dog in my home, Y/N. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

- Carol’s POV -

“No. Means. No.”

“Oh come on, Carol!”

You follow the blonde into the elevator, a box containing the most delicious pie you have ever tasted, in your hands.

“No, kitten. You heard me. We are not eating pie before dinner.”

You stand next to her as she beeps her card and presses the button for the penthouse.

“Car, come on. What’s the worst that could happen, hmm? We don’t eat all of our dinner? Wow, call the cops now.”

“The worst that could happen is you getting put in your place, little girl. Don’t make me throw that pie out of the window, because I will.”

You hold it closer to your chest.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Using her full height against you, Carol towers down at you and narrows her eyes.

“Try me.”

You shuffle back, taking your precious pie with you.

Carol follows.

“I see this thing as my child; you throw this out and you’re throwing my…like heart out too…”

“God you’re so fucking dramatic.” Carol rolls her eyes. “Plus you want to eat that pie. How sick is that?”

You open and close your mouth a couple of times, unable to think of a snarky reply.

“That’s what I thought.” Carol replies, “want me to shut that mouth for you, kitten?”

Glowering up at her, you do it yourself.

“Are we finished going on about this stupid pie now?” She asks.

“S-stupid pie?” You look down at the box. “Carol, I’m hurt. Hurt! This pie is not stupid; it’s a beautiful creation and I think I’m in love with it.”

Carol laughs, exasperated.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, baby.”

“Y’know what else is cute, Carol?” You ask before holding the box out. “This pie. And it’s cruel for us to wait to eat it until after dinner.”

“Y/N…” Carol warns. “I’m getting sick of hearing about it. I mean it. We’re eating it after dinner. Or not at all.”

You glance down at the box in your hands.

“Fine.”

Smiling, Carol leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I knew you could listen to instructions; good girl, kitten.”

“It’s amazing what happens when you threaten my pie, isn’t it?”

Carol smirks.

“It sure is.”

The two of you settle down, Carol taking her phone out of her pocket to check a couple of emails while you find it really hard to not roll your eyes.

God, the whole thing is stupid.

What was the big deal anyway?

Food is food, right?

You open the lid and inhale the sweet smell of the treat in your hands; mouth instantly filling with drool.

Your stomach rumbles.

“Fuck, I’m so hungry.” You scrape a little of the crust off with your finger and pop it into your mouth. “Can’t we just, like I dunno; nibble the crust, Carol? Consider it an amuse-bouche.”

You’re too busy giggling at your very pitiful joke to notice Carol.

Maybe if you had you could have gotten away from the situation.

Doubtful.

But maybe.

The pie is snatched from your hands before you can fully process what’s happening and thrown on the ground.

"Hey!"

You’re then pinned by the blonde, back bouncing on the elevator wall; where, not even waiting for you to reply, Carol’s hand trails up your chest, tickles at your neck before settling in your hair.

She grabs a handful, relishing in the way you flinch, readying for her to yank.

“Kneel.”

“Excuse me?” You say.

“You heard me, kitten. Kneel. Remember your place.”

You shake your head.

The final nail in your coffin.

Carol’s hand slams down on your shoulder and she pushes you down onto your knees.

You quickly find it difficult to maintain eye contact with the incredibly smug woman standing over you.

The second you look away, she cocks her head to the side.

“Where you looking at, kitten?” Carol asks. “My eyes are up here. You know I like looking at your pretty eyes.”

You make yourself look at her.

And as you part your lips to talk, Carol roughly pushes two fingers into your mouth.

“Brats don’t get to talk.” She growls.

You choke as Carol’s fingers hit the back of your throat; and when you try to pull back, the other woman doesn’t let you, the grip on your hair tightening to keep you in your place.

“Where are you going, baby?”

Carol fucks your mouth a few more times before keeping them lodged between your lips; loving the way your eyes widen and you gag around her.

Carol doesn’t miss the small intake of breath through your nose when her boot grazes your core.

She pulls her fingers from your mouth, deliberately pressing down on your tongue to just earn one last gag before her digits leave fully.

Spit dangles from her glistening fingers and she wipes them clean on your cheek.

“Stay.”

You look at her in confusion; watching as she crosses the elevator to hit the STOP button; causing you to nearly fall out of your kneeling position from the floor.

When Carol returns to you, you try to speak again, voice your innocence, but she raises an eyebrow and your voice dies in your throat.

Her feet shift and one slips between your spread legs.

“There’s a good girl, that’s what I thought.”

You stay where you are, legs spread on the elevator floor with one of Carol’s feet between them.

“Look at you,” she mockingly pouts, “on your knees for me. Right where you belong.”

Carol lifts her foot and smiles when you jerk.

“You think bad girls have the right to try and get off on my feet?”

She moves her foot and you all but whimper when the contact leaves you.

“But considering you look so fucking cute right now…I’d say you deserve…something…” Carol’s face is incredibly smug. “Go ahead and hump my shoe, slut. I'll allow it.”

Your eyes go wide.

“W-what?”

“You heard me, baby.” Carol says. “Or is that dumb submissive brain of yours too fuzzy to understand simple instructions?”

Her boot goes back between your legs and presses right against your clit.

“Hump my fucking shoe or I’ll turn your ass red. The choice is yours.”

You move automatically, despite the humiliation slapping you right in the face, and grind yourself down onto Carol’s shoe.

The friction feels amazing and it causes your eyes to flutter.

“Oh.”

“Go on. Get yourself off on my shoe. It’s a nice sight, I won’t lie.”

You roll your hips and groan.

When you try to sit up, to rearrange yourself on her shoe; Carol’s hands slam firmly on your shoulders again and shoves you back down; grinding you against her boot.

“Fuck, c-captain.”

“What was that, baby girl?” she asks.

“Nothing, captain; I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you need something in that mouth of yours…to keep you quiet. What do you think?”

You go to reply when two of Carol’s fingers re enter your mouth.

“Suck them.”

You’re quick to do as you’re told, sucking on her digits as if your life depends on it.

“There’s a good girl. Knew I’d find better use of that mouth instead of talking utter shit.”

You gag loudly when her long fingers poke at the back of your throat.

“You know,” Carol continues, shifting her boot to make you groan, “you’re such a good girl when you’re not complaining about your stupid pie.”

Something clicks in her brain and she smiles deviously down at you.

“I think I might take you up on your offer from earlier, sugar.” She continues, gripping your jaw tighter when you try to speak.

And then just like that, everything stops.

You can only watch helplessly as she moves away from you and picks up the box.

You miss how good her shoe made you feel.

You clench your thighs, pussy throbbing.

When she opens the box lid, you can’t help the pathetic whine when you see your delicious pie in front of you.

You swallow thickly.

“It smells delicious, kitten.” Carol says; eyes snapping to you when you open your mouth again.

You watch, mouth agape as she breaks off a part of the crust and pops in into her mouth; moaning loudly when the buttery flavour explodes on her taste buds.

“And this is just the crust, I can’t wait to eat the whole thing.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh? And what’re you gonna do about it, brat?”

You’re on your feet in seconds, legs shaking from being knelt down for a long period of time.

“You’re the one being the brat now, not me.”

How you manage to slap Carol’s ass before she pins you to the wall is beyond you.

Yet somehow you manage it.

The blonde is seething.

“Say that again.”

You meet her eyes and all the courage you have vacates your body.

“I-I’d rather not, thank you.”

“It isn't a request, Y/N. It's an order.”

“I -”

“3.”

“Don’t count!”

“2.”

“I said you was the brat!”

“And why did you call me a brat?” Carol asks.

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh? An apology already?” Carol grins. “Where did that bratty energy go?”

“It left. Really quickly.” You pout slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry, baby?” She leans to kiss your jaw. “Really sorry?”

“Mhmm.” You whine when her teeth nip at your skin.

“I guess that’s okay then isn’t it, if you’re really sorry.”

You’re sceptical at first - because why would she let you get away with being a brat so quickly? - but when her hand slips into your pants, the scepticism dissolves.

Her long fingers circle your clit and you let out a small whimper.

“Does that feel good, kitten?”

She grabs your jaw with her other hand.

“Use those words, baby.”

She says this as her fingers dip inside of you, pulling back before she fully does.

“Yes, captain.” You whisper. “Please.”

“Oh such a good girl, using her manners for her captain.”

She lifts you with no effort, yanking your pants and knickers down to your knees before shoving two fingers easily inside of you.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby girl. I love it.”

Carol moves you again, carrying you across the elevator with her fingers still inside of you and somehow - you’re not sure how - presses the button to make the elevator move.

Your back ends up pressed against the elevator doors and you gasp when the cool steel presses against your ass.

“What if someone comes in?” You gasp out.

Carol adds a third finger, enjoying the way you react to her stretching you out.

You whimper, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip.

“Then you better cum fast, baby girl.”

You nod.

You can do that.

You wrap your legs around her waist, moaning when Carol growls.

Her teeth find home at your neck and she bites and sucks at what you have to offer her.

“Gonna mark you up,” she says, licking the large red mark she had just made.

You grind against her hand.

Her fingers squelch inside of you. “Everyone will know who you belong to.”

“You, captain. I belong to you!”

Her thumb rubs at your clit and you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from screaming out.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.”

“Oh god, yes, right there - please!”

You’re stuffed with Carol’s fingers, clenching around them as she moves and curls inside of your pussy.

Lewd, wet noises fill the elevator.

It should be embarrassing but it isn’t.

Not when you’re feeling this good.

“Mmm, close, so close.”

It’s almost obscene how quickly they can make you cum.

“I’m gonna c...!”

Your body tenses -

- and Carol abruptly removes her fingers from you, throwing your legs down as she goes.

“What? What are you doing?”

You hastily pull your pants back up, breathing heavily.

“Brats don’t get to cum, silly girl.”

Your eyes all but bulge from your head.

Sucking her fingers, she grabs onto you when the doors to the elevator open, stopping you from tumbling out.

You don’t even notice, far too enraged by your denied orgasm.

“What?! That’s not fair!”

“Shall we make it a week of edging then instead of just tonight, kitten? ‘Cos that wouldn’t be fair.”

You hastily shake your head.

“I - let’s not be too hasty now.”

“That’s what I thought.” Carol towers over you. “Now, fetch your pie and come along little kitten. You’ve got a long night ahead.”

- Wanda’s POV -

“I can’t believe you dropped your coke, Y/N.”

“I didn’t do it intentionally!” You’re all but pouting as you stomp into the elevator to the penthouse. “I was looking forward to drinking it too; stupid curb. I could have broken my neck.”

“Bit dramatic there, detka.” Wanda smiles, slurping her drink, just loud enjoy to make you glare.

She moves the reusable carrier bag to rest in the crook of her arm. “I’d have caught you.”

“You were doubled over laughing, Maximoff. When would you have caught me?”

“After I finished laughing, duh.” Wanda hands you her drink.

You accept it happily and inhale a large mouthful, momentarily struggling to swallow all the carbonated bubbles.

“Also, Maximoff, huh? Channelling your inner Natasha and Carol there are you?”

You shrug as you continue to drink her soda.

“So what if I am?”

You watch as Wanda commands the elevator to take you to their floor before coming to stand in your personal space.

She taps your nose.

“I prefer you calling me Wands.” She whispers, leaning down to take the straw into her mouth. “Or mommy. I know how much you enjoy calling me mommy.”

She says it with such nonchalance that it takes your brain a second to understand what she just said to you.

“I don’t…you…” Your voice trails off and you suddenly find you can’t keep Wanda’s eye contact.

She giggles and your brain mercifully starts to work again.

“I love how flustered that makes you, baby. You’re so cute.”

“Oh whatever.” You scoff, shoving Wanda away with a smile.

She lets out a giggle but doesn’t budge too far from you.

“It’s so easy to do. Even when I’m not fully in dom mode, I can still make you blush. Talk about giving me an ego boost, sweetheart.”

“I can easily burst your bubble, Wands.”

“Oh yeah?” She raises an eyebrow. “Go on then. Burst my bubble. I dare you.”

“You dare me?”

“Mhmm. I’m waiting.” She checks her watch. “Although, if you make me wait any longer I might end up ageing a few years…”

“I -” You start but when Wanda’s lips suddenly find your neck, you falter. “That’s….that’s mean.”

“Use your words, baby.” She sucks on your skin. “Go on.”

“I…just…” You’re begging your brain to function. It becomes increasingly difficult, especially when Wanda drags her teeth over your collarbone. “Y-you…”

“Yes, baby girl?” Wanda moves up to suck your earlobe into her mouth. “My not-at-all-flustered-baby-girl.”

You shut your eyes and try your best to focus.

“I’m not - I’m…” You swallow thickly. “I’m not flustered. I don’t get easily flustered.”

“Just admit defeat, baby.” She kisses along your jaw until settling on your lips, kissing you once, twice, three times. “My flustered girl, I love that I can do this to you.”

“You do?”

“Yes, detka.” Wanda mercifully pulls back slightly, giving you enough space to regain some control of your thoughts. “It’s so hot.”

Your cheeks blush.

“Even if you do try to lie to me.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Mhmm.”

“Tell that to your crimson cheeks, baby girl.” She winks before stepping fully out of your personal space. “You cutie pie. Trying to lie to your mommy. You know I don’t like liars, sweetheart.”

“What’re you gonna do about it, mommy?”

She leans down and recaptures your lips with her own; holding the side of your face with her free hand in a gentle caress.

It’s a tender moment.

And you fall fully into it.

“For that, I’m gonna play our new video game when you’re in school this week.”

You pull away from her.

“You what?”

“You heard me, baby.”

You let out a whine, frowning.

“But that’s not fair!”

“It isn’t?” She asks, grinning, showing her pristine white teeth. “How so, baby?”

“B-because you’re gonna learn all the tricks and I’ll be at a disadvantage when we play!”

“Aww,” Wanda mock pouts down at you. “Such a silly little thing. You won’t be at a disadvantage.”

“So…wait, you’re not gonna cheat?” You ask, tilting your head slightly.

“I didn’t say that.” Wanda replies. “I’m gonna learn everything whilst you’re stuck in class. You’re not gonna be at a disadvantage, detka; you’re gonna be at a loss when we play.”

You gape up at her.

“And then when you get home to me, I’ll make you a bet that I just know you won’t be able to refuse…”

“I’d be able to refuse it.” You mumble in a hushed tone.

“Shh baby, mommy’s speaking.” Wanda bumps her nose to yours. “When you lose my bet, your ass is gonna be mine.”

“I - I won’t fall for your bet.”

“You won’t?” Wanda asks. “My stubborn, proud, little girl, won’t accept a bet I lay out for her…won’t take the chance to try and prove me wrong?”

Oh you can feel the moment your eye starts to twitch.

“No…I won’t fall for it, Wanda.”

Wanda smirks.

“I think you already have, buttercup.”

The elevator dings, catching Wanda’s attention.

“Come on, kitten. Mommy wants a cup of coffee.”

She turns and you find yourself staring at her ass.

You glare at her.

“You’re being such a brat.”

Those five words alone are going to get you into trouble.

But you don’t stop there.

No.

Of course you don’t. It’s you.

The temptation to spank her overrules any logical thoughts you have and, without fully thinking the idea through, you smack Wanda’s ass.

With a lot more power than you had anticipated.

The older woman jerks, a surprised noise passing her lips.

She turns to you slowly, both eyebrows raised in shock.

You stare at her.

Just as shocked.

“I - you…”

“Did you just spank my ass, little one?”

“No.”

“Again with the lies.”

“I’m not -”

Her hand is in your hair so fast; palm scraping against your scalp before her fingers latch down, hard.

You let out a tiny squeak as she holds you where she wants, eyes glaring down at your stunned face; your eyes lidded in pleasure.

“Did you smack my ass, baby girl?” Wanda asks.

You’re finding it really difficult to maintain eye contact with her.

“So what if I did?” You ask, the adrenaline from Wanda pulling your hair fuelling your brat energy.

“Oh, so that’s the mood you’re going with is it?” Wanda’s smile grows. “For a second I really thought you were gonna chicken out on me, sweetie.”

You avert your eyes from her gaze and Wanda quickly rectifies it; hand dropping from your hair to grip your chin.

She lifts your face up, tilting her own head to the side when you try your best to keep from looking at her.

“Aww, is the little baby too afraid to look me in the eyes now?”

“No.”

“Then look at me.” Wanda orders simply.

When you still refuse, she sighs.

“Come now, baby girl; look at me or I’ll let Natasha and Carol deal with you.”

You tentatively peak up at her.

Wanda’s grip on your chin tightens.

“Ignore me again and I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to walk for days; is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good girl.” Wanda kisses your nose. “Coffee?”

“Coffee sounds perfect.”

Two minutes later and the two of you leave the elevator, hand in hand; softly discussing your upcoming game night plans, when you hear it.

Gentle moans coming from the front room.

While you pause mid step, Wanda continues on, dragging you with her without stopping to check if you’re okay.

“Wanda!” You whisper, “I think they’re busy!”

“Who? Our girlfriends, you mean?”

You’re blushing.

“I know that.” You reply, gripping her hand as you climb the stairs. “But they’re having alone time.”

Wanda can’t help but grin.

“You’re so fucking adorable, baby. Come on, it’s okay. They won’t mind. If anything, seeing us watch will spur them on…”

What you’re met with, is Carol kneeling between Natasha’s bare legs as she laps away happily at her pussy.

Natasha, with her hair shoved messily on her head, has her eyes screwed shut.

Her hips jerk and she gasps, then letting out a little sigh when Carol inserts two fingers into her.

“There you go, my love.” Carol mutters, moving away to kiss Natasha’s inner thigh.

“If you make me squirt on our couch, I won’t be impressed, Danvers.”

“Challenge accepted, Romanoff.”

Carol throws Natasha’s left leg over her shoulder and pulls her closer.

Casting a devious wink up at the red head, Carol licks her lips and dives back in, feasting on the other woman like it was her last meal.

You can only watch, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes gaze over Carol’s toned arms pinning Natasha in place.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Wanda asks, glancing at you. “See something you like?”

“I’m just -”

You’re too enamoured by Natasha and Carol to even notice Wanda moving around you; placing her things down before going to stand back at your side.

She moves your hair from your neck and peppers kisses at the skin you offer to her, grasping your body to stop you from pulling away in surprise.

“Hush now,” She whispers, earning fresh goosebumps to rise where her breath tickles you. “You wanna watch them with me, baby?”

You let out a breathless moan as Wanda licks up to your earlobe.

She takes it between her teeth and nibbles.

“But…we…”

“Use your big girl words.”

You try to drag your eyes away but Wanda is one step ahead of you; she grabs a fist full of your hair again and keeps your head from moving.

“Watch, baby girl.”

Wanda’s right arm moves slides around your stomach to dip between your waistband.

“What do we have here?” She murmurs, dragging one slender finger over your clit. She moves lower, to the slight damp patch giving you away. “Did mommy do this? Or is it because you’re watching our captain eat daddy’s pussy?”

You drag your eyes from Carol’s tongue, watching in a daze as it disappears inside of Natasha, to glance back at Wanda.

She’s watching you both with a similar gaze; pupils blown wide with lust.

When you look back to the pair on the sofa, you’re met with dazzling green eyes staring at you.

“Looks like we’ve got some onlookers, moya lyubov’.” Natasha’s breath hitches.

When Carol turns to you and Wanda, her mouth shimmers.

“Are you two gonna join us?”

“I was thinking of something different.” Wanda replies, removing her hand from between your legs.

You let out a whine, wincing when Wanda’s grip on your hair tightens.

“Don’t think I forgot about your little stunt, brat.” She shoves you forward.

“Oh? Has our baby girl been naughty?” Natasha asks, letting out a loud moan when Carol curls her fingers.

“Our baby girl thought it was appropriate to slap my arse and call me a brat.”

You snap your head to look at Wanda; eyes wide in shock.

“You said you wouldn’t tell!”

Wanda shrugs. “I never said such a thing. But maybe now you’ll rethink your actions, detka.”

“Oh, she has been a bad girl.” Carol is grinning against Natasha’s folds.

“And I think I know the perfect punishment…” Wanda replies, squishing your cheeks between her fingers. “Kneel.”

“No I don’t -”

“I. Said. Kneel.”

Wanda’s hands move to your shoulders and she shoves you down to the floor.

You end up on your knees with Wanda’s hands clamped on your shoulders, painfully close to Natasha and Carol.

“Now, be a good girl and stay put. Mommy needs to get something just for you.”

You all but sigh in relief when Wanda removes her hands from you and she quickly leaves the room.

You move on instinct, your knees already sore from the wooden floor.

But Natasha, even with her eyes shut in pleasure, just knows you’re trying to move and she catches your arm in a vice grip.

“Mommy told you to stay, little one.”

Another harsh tug and you’re pulled forward, landing on your hands, nose bumping into Natasha’s raised leg.

“I - um -”

“Why don’t you watch daddy cum, baby girl?” Natasha gyrates her hips on Carol’s face. “Fuck, baby, I’m so close.”

Natasha’s grip tightens on arm and you wince, automatically pulling away.

“Kiss me.”

You glance at Carol, who is leaning up from Natasha. She’s looking at you with wet lips; her fingers still working in and out of the red head.

“What?”

“You heard me.” Carol says, “kiss me. Come here.”

You do as you’re told, leaning across to capture Carol’s lips with your own.

You immediately taste Natasha’s arousal. It attacks your senses.

It coats your lips, fills your mouth and invades your nose.

You quickly get lost in it, sucking on Carol’s tongue.

The blonde pulls back, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Fuck.” You whimper.

“Now what’s this about you spanking mommy, hmm?” She asks, trailing her thumb across your lip.

“I didn’t mean it, captain.” You give her your best doe eyed look, sticking out your bottom lip for good measure.

It only earns a snicker.

“Nice try, baby.”

And just like that, Carol shoves you away from her.

With such force that you topple onto your ass.

Just as Wanda re-enters the room holding a collar and a leash.

Looming over you, Wanda motions you to sit by her feet.

You do as you’re told, quickly; earning a soft “Good girl.” to be whispered in your ear.

You’re far too infatuated with Wanda that you miss Natasha’s eyes rolling to the back of her head as her orgasm rips through her.

You want nothing more than to watch her fall apart, but the stern look that Wanda gives you is enough to keep you in place.

“You want to be my good little pet?” she asks, locking the collar around your neck. She checks the tightness and then asks if it feels okay on you.

You nod and Wanda connects the leash to the heart shaped part of the collar.

“Then good little pets obey and listen to their owners, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“I like where this is going.” Carol mutters to Natasha.

“Come.”

Crawling behind Wanda’s feet, and earning a few slaps on your ass from the other two women, she moves until she has you kneeling in front of the coffee table.

You silently watch her as she ties the end of the leash to the table leg.

“Good little pets also deserve to be punished for spanking their mommies, don’t they?”

You pout and nod.

“…yes mommy.”

Wanda walks back to Natasha and Carol, kissing them both deeply before whispering something into their ears.

Just quiet enough that you can’t fully make out what she’s saying.

You’re interested.

Curious as to what is being said.

“My devious, devious little switchy.” Natasha grins, pulling Wanda in for another kiss.

“Maybe this will teach our little brat to think before she acts.” Carol says, glancing at you.

“Tell her, moya lyubov’.” Natasha tells Wanda. “ So the poor girl doesn’t get into more trouble.”

“You’re to sit there baby, as Natasha and Carol fuck me. You’re not allowed to be involved. No touching. No whining. No moving. Do I make myself clear?”

Your face falls.

Your good girl act crumbles.

The brat inside of you rises up, screaming like a banshee.

How could they do this to you? Over something so small?!

Your eye twitches and you open your mouth to fight back.

“Behave, kitten.” Natasha orders. “Or should I take matters into my own hands and make use of our new paddle?”

The words die on your tongue.

Your inner brat dropping to hide once more.

And now you know exactly why Wanda placed you directly in front of them.

You’re in the front row seat of torture.

“That’s what I thought. Dumb baby.”

“I’ll ask again: do I make myself clear, Y/N?”

“Yes!”

A single eyebrow raise.

“Yes, you make yourself clear, mommy.”

“Such a good little pet.”

Wanda’s top gets torn off first by Carol, quickly followed by her leggings.

“You’re gonna make the cutest sounds for us, bunny.” Natasha says, nipping at Wanda’s neck. “All for us.”

“Yes, daddy.” Wanda replies, letting out a shuddering breath when teeth scrape her collarbone.

You lick your dry lips, hands curling into fists on your lap.

This is so unfair, so unfair!

You shuffle forward, yearning to get nearer; eyes watching the two women as they begin to devour Wanda.

Jealousy pangs through you.

You swallow what moisture you have in your mouth and try to move forward again.

Only, this time, the leash prevents you from moving.

It strains, keeping you in your place.

The collar presses into your neck but you don’t stop.

You continue to lean forward, determined to be part of the fun happening in front of you.

The table drags loudly against the floor and you instantly freeze, eyes going wide.

Three pairs of eyes turn to look at you.

“She’s really being determined to be a fucking brat today, isn’t she?” Carol says. “I say we add to her punishment. See if she finally listens then.”

You cower back as Carol approaches, Wanda’s long sleeved shirt in her hands.

Behind her, Natasha pins Wanda down on the sofa and kisses her deeply.

“Now, now,” she says, stroking your cheek. “Less of that. You’re safe, remember. Check in with me.”

“Green…a little yellow, but it’s because I’m nervous.”

Carol smiles, leaning down to kiss you.

“I’m only going to blindfold you, my love. Is that okay?”

“Yes, it’s okay.” You pout up at her, “just please let me touch you. Please.”

“Poor thing,” Carol quickly kisses you again. “But it’s not me you should have begged to.”

“Wait -”

But Carol doesn’t let you finish your sentence; doesn’t let you finish your plea for pleasure.

She wraps Wanda’s sleeves around your face, tying them behind your head, cutting off your vision of Natasha kissing down Wanda’s stomach.

“No…”

You know you look ridiculous but it’s the least of your worries.

Instinct takes over and you go to grab at the offending material over your eyes but Carol’s catches your wrists before you can.

“Keep them on your thighs and do not move them. There. Some more rules for that pretty head to follow.” Carol says. “Think you can do that?”

“Um, I think so.”

“I want you to tell me what you’re not allowed to do. Now. Just so I know we’re on the same page, kitten.”

You open your mouth and Carol leans down to attack your neck.

You’re not expecting it, caught fully unaware and you let out a startled scream, body jerking back so suddenly that you tumble off your knees and onto your ass.

Again.

Carol lets you fall and you just know she’s smiling.

“Mean.”

“Mean?” Carol asks. “No, my sweet, sweet girl; this is mean.”

You’re stripped down to your underwear in record speed, despite how much of a fuss you put up.

“On your knees.”

Wanda is whimpering.

You want nothing more to see what Natasha is doing to her.

“How? I can’t see.”

Carol chuckles as Wanda lets out a soft, “Fuck.”

“Ever the fucking brat.”

One spanked - and slightly redder - ass cheek later, you’re back in your original position with your hands clenched into fists on top of your thighs.

“Now, what is it you’re not allowed to do, kitten?” she asks.

“Well I’m not allowed to see for one thing…”

A hand slithers around your throat and gives you a warning squeeze.

“With less attitude, darling girl.”

Hearing Natasha’s voice so close causes you to gasp.

When did they switch?!

“I’m…not allowed to touch myself…to whine or to move…”

“Annnnd…” Natasha encourages, finger circling your nipple into a hardened point.

“Please, Captain, please!” Wanda groans from the sofa.

You shuffle uncomfortably on the floor.

“I’m not allowed to watch.” You say. “Or move my hands.”

“Good girl, following my orders so well.” A kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Stay put now, yes? Daddy and Captain want to enjoy their bunny without the disruptions.”

Without waiting for a reply, Natasha leaves you.

It doesn’t take long for Wanda to become more vocal.

Every whimper, every moan is heightened and your body reacts when you hear them.

“Bend your legs for me, bunny.” Carol says as you let out a shaky breath. “Let captain see that gorgeous pussy of yours.”

God, you’re going to ruin your knickers.

“Fuck, she’s so wet. It’s dribbling down her thighs.” Carol continues. “Can captain eat your cunt? Make you feel good until you’re cumming on my tongue?”

Your nails are digging into your palms.

Wanda lets out a loud moan and you almost do too.

“Yes, captain, please!”

“I just wanna see, please, let me watch.” You beg.

It goes ignored.

You’re so jealous.

Natasha and Carol continue their feast.

Blissfully.

They don’t stop until Wanda is a sobbing mess.

Until she’s moaning and writhing just for them.

It should be for you.

You should be making her feel this good.

While Natasha and Carol watch.

It’s not fair.

By Wanda’s first orgasm, you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been on your knees.

When Wanda cums again, the pins and needles in your legs have set in.

After her third orgasm, you’re a panting mess; and this is when you’re finally given reprieve.

The makeshift blindfold is carefully removed from you and it takes a couple of seconds for your eyes to adjust to the lights in the room.

It’s Wanda who crouches in front of you, helping you switch positions so your legs can stretch.

She smiles lovingly at you, sweat glistening on her forehead.

The smell of sex fills your nose.

Your mouth waters.

“Have you learnt your lesson, love?” she asks and you all but jump to reply.

“Yes! Yes, mommy I have! I’m so sorry for calling you a brat and spanking your ass!”

Carol and Natasha appear at your sides.

They’re in varied stages of undress: Wanda completely bare, Natasha has nothing but her bra on while Carol has the pair of boxers she wears when wearing your current favourite strap.

“Will you do it again?”

Maybe.

“No. I won’t.”

Wanda cups your face with her hands and kisses you.

She pulls back and your lips are left still puckered.

“I know you’re fibbing but I’ll let it slide.” Wanda says. “Staying knelt like that. Are you all needy, baby? Is your pussy soaking wet for us?”

“Mhmm, it is mommy.” You’re pouting again.

“You look good enough to eat, detka.”

“Then eat me…”

The three women laugh and it makes you smile.

“I’m not sure…should we drag your punishment out, baby girl?” Wanda asks. “Make sure you really learnt your lesson?”

“No!” You look at each one of them frantically. “Please, don’t!”

“Then get your cute ass up those stairs, sweetheart.” Natasha orders.

“Race you.” Wanda winks.

The woman jumps to her feet and lets out a startled gasp when Carol drags her back to the floor.

“Go, baby, go!” The blonde shouts, wrestling to keep Wanda down.

Natasha helps you up and gives you a shove.

“Go on! Carol won’t be able to hold her forever!”

Grinning, you dart past the two forms wriggling on the floor and charge up the stairs, letting out a frantic laugh when you hear footsteps start to follow you.

You’re the first to the bedroom and when Carol finally makes it there too, four bodies collide and fall onto the bed in a heap.

You don’t resurface until the following day.

Your new game, for now, is completely forgotten.

Hope you enjoyed!! Go and take a cold shower, that’s an order😏

Also thank you to Maxy for helping with the gifs! *mwah*

#submission #18+ only #no minors #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #sugar mommies #sugar mommies!asks #sugar mommies suggestions #sugar mommies au #sugar mommies drabble #sugar mommies drabbles #over 8000 words #damn

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talkfastlibrary · 11 months

Text

Diamonds, Candlelight & a Question--Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 4.1k (she's a longer one!)

warnings: none really, flirting, lingering glances, Jake buying you more things...

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

Jake sent you a text asking if you’d like to go to a candlelit concert in the city with him later in the night. You’ve never even heard of a candlelit concert so you said yes. He then informed you that Reynolds’ will be by to take you for a mani pedi and then shopping for some new outfits.

When Reynolds arrived he had an iced coffee in hand that was made just how you liked it. You vaguely remember mentioning briefly in passing at your first dinner with Jake. Did he really remember that?

While you were getting your feet and nails done, he stayed up front looking through the magazines supplied up front. You decided on a pretty indigo color for both your hands and feet and before you could even reach into your purse, Reynolds handed over a master black credit card. Then he took you to a very high end clothing store called Madame Floquet’s Closet that you would only peek in on the street.

Yet here you are walking around the store with Reynolds behind you like a shadow as you look through the racks. You saw one of the price tags and it made you light headed. This designer is completely foreign to you and you can feel the eyes of other shoppers on you as you walk around aimlessly.

“Reynolds?” you ask for him quietly.

“Yes, miss?”

“Does Jake really want me to wear this stuff? I’ve never…I don’t know if it’ll suit me.”

“He did say to call him if you needed anything.”

“Right,” you sigh, then pull out your phone. You tap on his name and hold the phone to your ear trying to ignore the onlookers.

“Hi sweetheart, how’s shopping going?” He asks after answering.

“You really want me to wear this stuff?

“You don’t like it,” he breathes.

“It’s very…nice but I’ve never worn anything designer in my life. And everyone is staring at me–”

“I’m sorry, y/n. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Tell Reynolds to take you to any store you’d like and buy whatever you want from there, okay?”

“You don’t want to shop with me?”

“You want me there?”

“Well…it’d make me feel less awkward. It’s like Reynolds is my bodyguard or something for some reality show. Don’t you want to see what you’re…buying for me?” It felt weird to say it out loud.

“You want me to be there with you?” his voice has turned tender.

“I know, I know, shopping with a woman isn’t at the top of any man’s list–”

“No, no, I’d love to join you. I’m on my way now. I just thought this would be easier for you; less pressure about our arrangement.”

“It’s the exact opposite,” you chuckle then nod to Reynolds to leave.

“Yeah, I’m finding that out about you,” he laughs. “Tell Reynolds where to go and I’ll meet you there, Sugar.”

Jake showed up at your favorite store in his service khakis and every eye was on him as soon as he entered the building. His eyes were only on you as he wove through the racks and aisles, he nodded to Reynolds in greeting then stopped in front of you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you sigh. “I didn’t pull you from work, did I?”

“No, I was doing some paperwork,” he waves it off. “I’m glad you called.”

“I’m glad you came,” You smile shyly then glance around the store. “What do you normally wear to a candlelit concert?”

“Something comfortable,” he shrugs. “Buy as much as you’d like.”

“Yeah, okay,” you snort, then move to the dress section. He quickly side steps in front of you, you have to take a few steps back to see his face clearly.

“I’m serious. If you need more of something or see anything you think looks nice, pick it out. This is me taking care of you, remember?”

“But I haven’t even signed the paperwork yet, we haven’t even discussed–”

He presses a finger to your lips, silencing you.

“Stop,” he smirks softly. “I know we haven’t. This is me earning your trust. You lead, I’ll follow.”

And he did. He commented on items you picked out and gave his opinion when you asked. He could tell you were debating on some of them and offered words of encouragement of how lovely you’d look in it or how the color complements your skin. He loved every outfit you tried on.

“Would you like to pick something out?” you ask laying another blouse on top of the cart.

“This is for you to pick,” he shakes his head.

“Jake,” you cock your head and put a little, “please?”

“You won’t like it,” a slow smile spreads on his lips. The way he keeps glancing down at your pouted lip shows you’ve almost got him.

“Why not?”

“It’s a dress from the first store.”

“Can we go back and see it?”

“You don’t have to, y/n. You didn’t like that store and this is what you want,” he waves his hand at the cart full of clothes.

“I want to see the other dress,” you say with a bit more conviction. Please, Jake?”

He stares at you clearly battling with the predicament at hand. “Okay. Let’s check out and we’ll go back.”

“Can I drive with you?” you follow along with Reynolds as he pushes the cart to the front of the store.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I feel bad having Reynolds follow me like a shadow all the time.”

“I don’t mind it one bit Miss y/n,” Reynolds smiles over his shoulder at you. “I’ll make sure these are bagged and back at your home.”

“Thanks Reynolds.”

“Thank you,” you smile at him then split directions towards the door with Jake.

You’re not surprised when you find out his car of choice is a steel gray F-150 truck. It’s very shiny and still has that new car smell when he helps you hop up in the passenger seat. You tried not to think about how well your hand fit in his. You are surprised to hear jazz music when he turns the truck on and you stare at him.

“What?” he grins backing out of the parking spot.

“You like jazz?”

“I’m a man of many tastes. We can change it if you’d like–”

“No! I like it,” you smile then lean back in your seat.

On the drive back you can’t help yourself and glance at him the whole time. What is it about guys driving that is so attractive? Especially when he uses one hand to turn the wheel expertly as he takes turns, or the way his neck veins accentuate when he checks his blind spots. Or maybe it’s because he’s in his service khakis and it hugs his biceps and thighs a little too perfectly.

“You okay over there Sugar?”

“Huh?”

“You’re staring,” he smiles as if he’s just won the lottery.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you shake your head then look out the windshield.

“I don’t mind, you know. If I weren’t driving, I’d be staring at you, too.”

You inhale deeply. There he goes again, saying sweet things that leaves your stomach in knots and butterflies.

When you arrive at the store he makes a beeline to the front desk and one of the associates smiles at you both.

“Hello Lieutenant.”

“Hi Tracy. Can we have that dress I asked you to keep on hold for me?”

“Of course, I’ll be right back,” Tracy heads into the small hallway behind the desk and into a sleek black door.

“You had it on hold?” you ask him quietly because eyes are on you again. You drum your nails on the white marble counter.

“Mhm, I didn’t want anyone else to have it. I like this color,” he muses, grabbing hold of your fingers to look at the polish.

“One of a kind?”

“Lieutenant Seresin!” A tall woman with a French accent appears from the back room in place of Tracy. She’s holding a black garment bag with the store’s logo embroidered in gold lettering. She’s slender with tight black curls and a perfectly proportioned face and striking hazel eyes. She reminds you of Catwoman, lithe and graceful but also fierce.

“Hello Madame Floquet,” Jake smiles then kisses both of her cheeks when she rounds the counter.

“Izz she ze one?” Madame Floquet turns to you.

Standing next to her makes you feel like the plainest Jane.

“She’s the one,” he responds, his eyes on you. It’s different when he says it, it’s as if you’re the only one. “This is y/n.”

“I’ve heard so much about you mon cher,” Madame Floquet leans in and kisses both of your cheeks. “Come with me.”

She takes your hand leading you to the back by the dressing rooms and opens up the first one. It’s spacious and white with a wall to ceiling mirror outlined with bulbous lights. A black pouf sits in the corner.

“Put this on and I will get Monsieur Jake–”

“Wait, Madame Floquet,” you grab her wrist before she can spin out of the dressing room. “When did Jake ask you to put a hold on this dress?”

“Put a hold on it? No, no, no he asked me to design it. Now, put it on and I will get him.”

She brisks away and you’re left dumbfounded. You stare at the garment bag nervous to open it now because he asked her to design it for you? You trace the letters, ‘MFC’ and put two and two together. Madame Floquets Closet. This is her store.

You unzip the bag slowly gasping at the dress inside. It’s black velvet with a backless back and diamonds cascading all along the perimeter from shoulder to waist to the other shoulder. It was exquisite and when you touched the velvet, it’s the softest you’ve ever felt in your life. You pull it out, the skirt falling to the floor but you saw a slit go up on the right side.

You touch the cascading diamonds, they tickle your fingers. Clearly you can’t wear a bra with this so you strip down to your underwear and step into it and shimmy it up your body. Panic sets in because what if it doesn’t fit? You’ll be horrified to step out with it hanging off your body like a potato sack or worse, not being able to go out at all.

The sleeves slip on your arms like a second skin, not too tight and not too loose. The diamonds are like ice pecking against your back as you try to do the three velvet buttons behind your neck. Your hair gets in the way so you twist it up into a messy bun but you still struggle with the last two buttons.

There’s a knock behind you.

“Are you ready mon cher?” Madame Floquet asks.

“Almost!” you call and try to get the last buttons

“Do you need help?”

“Yes…” you sigh, then open the door.

“Allow me,” she smiles then buttons them up quickly. She spins you around and pushes you out the door in front of Jake.

He was leaning against the wall but when you appeared, he stood up straighter. His eyes are trained on you, unblinking as you come closer to him. You’re twisting your fingers together in front of your waist, nervous of how you look and what he’s thinking.

“Gorgeous, yes?” Madam Floquet smiles and adjusts the skirt for you.

“Perfect,” he says. His green eyes seem lighter as he takes you in.

“Spin mon cher, show the back!”

You rise on your tiptoes and spin around slowly, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror but you find Jake’s eyes in the reflection. You follow his eyes as they move over the slope of your back.

“Shall I ring it up?” Madame Floquet asks.

His eyes find yours in the mirror anticipating your answer.

“It’s up to this beautiful woman right here,” he nods at you.

“Yes,” you say.

“I’ll give you a moment to change,” she leaves you be then you spin and stand in front of Jake.

“You had her design this for me?”

“Yes,” he blushes rubbing at his neck. “I thought you might want to wear it to the Navy Ball.”

“This wouldn’t be too much?”

“No. You’re perfect, y/n.”

You’re caught in his eyes for a moment then remember you need to take the dress off.

“Um, can you help me with the buttons?” you ask shyly and spin around.

“Of course.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest then you feel his fingers at the nape of your neck. He undoes them slowly, you can feel his breath blow on your neck and ear. Goosebumps rise on your skin. When you look in the mirror you see the way he’s looking at you, with such tenderness and intensity you aren’t sure how to respond to that so you run quickly back into the dressing room.

With the door closed safely between you two you lean against it and catch your breath, waiting for your racing heart to calm down.

He takes you home and he looks up and down the street as sirens wail away somewhere in the distance. There’s litter along the sidewalks and old abandoned houses surround yours with broken windows and doors hanging off their hinges. You didn’t live in the best part of town but you could afford the small townhouse and it was close to your flower shop.

Jake follows you to the door with your garment bag in his arms and watches you unlock four sets of locks, the last one being the hardest because you had to turn the knob just right for it to open. You bustle in and find all of your other shopping bags in the living room where Reynolds left them for you.

“You can hang the dress on the basement door,” you call to Jake and open your windows in the living room. When you come back to the kitchen he’s opening and closing your front door peering at the hinges as it sticks.

“The landlord hasn’t been by yet to fix it,” you explain.

“When did you call?” he shoulders it shut then presses on it with his full weight.

You roll your lips into your mouth.

“y/n?” he spins around to look at you.

“A few months ago,” you sigh.

“A few months?!”

“It’s fine, Jake–”

“No, it’s not. It’s very easy for someone to break this and come in. The houses next to you are broken. This is too dangerous.”

“It’s all I can afford. I have locks and a jam that goes in it so no one can get in if they try. Thank you for today and driving me home,” you say walking past him to open the door. “I’ll see you later for the concert.”

You decided to wear dark high-waisted jeans and one of your new blouses for the concert. You stashed away the velvet dress in your closet and waited for Reynolds to come pick you up. You were unloading your dishwasher when there was a soft knock so you closed the cabinet, gathered your purse and keys and opened the door.

“Hi Rey–oh! Jake, hi,” you stare up at him in shock. He hadn’t mentioned he’d be picking you up tonight and he looked very handsome in an all black ensemble. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I hope you’re not disappointed,” he smiles. “You look beautiful.”

“No, not disappointed,” you shake your head smiling, “and thank you.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yep. Just let me lock up,” you bustle past him in the doorway getting a whiff of his cologne. It’s becoming your favorite smell and you notice his look of disdain as he watches you lock your locks.

The concert is in the center of the city, the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon so his eyes were a pretty golden green. He handed his keys to the valet, slipping him a fifty dollar bill and ushered you inside.

“I’ve never been here before,” you tell him hushedly as you enter inside.

It’s an old theater that was made in the early 1800s, tons of plays and orchestras were displayed here even a few rock shows. You always admired the old building when you drove past it but the inside was even better than the exterior. It had that old building smell but the carpets and upholstery were new.

Chandeliers hung in the main foyer with smaller ones leading up the staircase to the second level. A quiet murmur of the people inside echoed around the vast space and you admired the large paintings adorning the walls displayed in gold frames.

“Wow,” you breathe.

“We’re in the balcony but I assume you’d like to take the stairs instead of the elevator?” he asks.

“Yes! This place is so cool,” you gush and head for the stairs. He catches up in two strides placing his hand on the small of your back. “I feel like we should be wearing ball gowns or something. Well, maybe not you, unless you’d like to of course. Doesn’t it remind you of the Victorian age or something? This would be a great place to have a Bridgerton themed party.”

“You’re right, Sugar, it would. Does that mean you and I would be the Duke and Duchess?”

You turn your head at him in surprise.

“You know what Bridgerton is?”

“It’s my guilty pleasure show, don’t you dare share that with the members of my team. I have a reputation to uphold,” he winks.

“I feel so underdressed,” you stop at the top of the stairs to gaze at one of the paintings.

It’s a portrait of a woman sitting poised with her hands placed delicately in her lap, a soft timid smile on her face. There’s a description of her name and that she was the owner of the ballroom and hall.

“Her name was Florence Cash,” you tell Jake.

“She built this for her husband, they loved going to plays and concerts together. When he went off to fight in the Civil War down south he went missing in action and she didn’t believe he was dead so she held music here every night in hopes he’d hear it and come home to her.”

“Did he come home?” you whisper, tearing your eyes from her portrait to look at Jake.

“No, he didn’t. Some of the performers claim to see them dancing together onstage by the ghost light. At night, they play their song ‘Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming’ so they’ll be together forever.”

“That’s such a lovely and sad story,” you frown. “What was his name?”

“Jack. She did remarry but only so that her children would keep the ballroom and they did. His painting is over there,” he angles your body around so you can see a large painting of a man in a Union uniform.

“So they’re always facing each other,” you mutter and shiver at the intimacy of the story. “I love this place.”

“I thought you might. Let’s get to our seats, yeah?”

You nod and let him guide you to the curtains where an usher is standing. He walks you to the balcony seats and you’re surprised to see only two chairs. It will only be you and Jake but what really makes you gasp is the view of the stage below.

There has to be a thousand and more candles lit and placed throughout the whole area casting it in a wondrous golden glow. A grand piano is center stage with a cello and violins set in front of chairs on either side of it. Near the back of the stage is a lift of bleachers and music stands.

“Would you like some wine, Sugar?” Jake asks behind you.

“Sure.”

You feel like you’re in a dream with how beautiful this place is, especially when you look up and see the largest chandelier yet. The crystals sparkled and shimmered from the glow of the candles, you’re so overcome with the grandeur you drop into the velveted seat trying to take it all in.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks taking the seat next to you.

“It’s wonderful,” you shake your head in disbelief. “It’s like a dream.”

The usher brings your glasses of wine and more people file into their seats. A murmur of conversation buzzes until the curtains to all the entrances are closed and the murmur moves to a silent hush. The performers come onstage and then one of the singers picks up the microphone.

“Welcome, ladies and gentleman to the Cash Theater. Tonight is a very special night as it is the anniversary of Jack and Florence Cash. We will be playing a collection of their favorite pieces ending with a lament. Enjoy.”

As soon as the instruments start to play you hold your breath. The songs are telling a story of what you’d like to believe is Jack and Florence’s. It paints a picture of dances and calling cards, picnics in the grass and love letters sent from the lines of war.

The singing leaves your body tingling the whole time, and tears prick your eyes when they sing a song of being on a journey home. The song following that is the one Jake told you about on the stairs, and it was sung by a quartet of men. It made you think of how Florence must have dreamt of her love coming home but in the end he never did.

Their voices echoed into the rafters beautifully. You were transfixed and transported to a different time thanks to the atmosphere of the theater and of the candles. The last song was “Wayfaring Stranger” and the woman’s voice was so chilling and tragically beautiful that you couldn’t help the tears that rolled down your cheeks. Jake reached over and took your hand giving you two squeezes. You tore your eyes away from the sad song to look at him and of course, he was already staring at you.

His thumb rubs soft circles on the back of your hand, you can see that storm again in his eyes lit up from the candles. Was the song reminding him of something? The cacophonous applause makes you jump and you lift your other hand to wipe the tears from your face. Jake beats you to it, his warm thumb swiping over the apple of your cheeks.

The curtains to your balcony are pushed open, drowning you in light and bringing you back to the present day. The time warp is gone but Jake still holds your hand as he ushers you from your seats.

You’re both quiet when you exit the theater and get into his truck. Your mind is still thinking of what you experienced and how much you loved it. How did he know you would like this? He seems to know you better than anyone which is strange considering the amount of time you’ve known each other. He takes you to a snazzy bar a few blocks away and he’s still quiet as you take a seat at a table near the back.

He orders you a wine and a bourbon for himself, leaning back in his chair with one arm on the back of it, staring at you. Is he thinking of the moment you had in the theater? How nice his hand felt in yours?

“What are you thinking about?” you finally ask to break the silence.

“I’m thinking of your door,” he replies simply.

“My door?” That leaves you puzzled, clearly he didn’t feel what you felt then…

“I didn’t realize how unsafe you were.”

“Jake,” you roll your eyes, “it’s really fine. I’ve lived there for years.”

“That doesn’t make it safe, y/n. For you or your grandma once she’s out of the hospital. It needs to be fixed.”

“Are you going to buy me a new door?” you tease snickering.

“No. That’s only a temporary fix for a long-term problem.”

“Well then…” you shrug at a loss.

He’s still staring at you as he takes a sharp drink of his bourbon, finishing it off in two gulps. His gaze is intense again, leaving you feeling self-conscious but also curious as to what he’s thinking about now.

“I can’t think of a long-term fix,” you try to get him speaking again.

“I do.”

“Okay, what is it?” you lift your wine glass to your mouth.

“Move in with me.”

You gasp before the wine touches your lips.

#jake seresin writing #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #an arrangement #an arrangement series #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin au #jake hangman au

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abbygalz · 4 months

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♥️It’s Alright♥️

You had a long day come home to Cowboy Wilbur and he lets you rant while holding you.

Tag list: Let me know if you want to be added<3

this is a bit self indulgent

Tw: venting, pet names, feminine based reader, swearing, if you find anymore let me know please

———

Wilbur had been your boyfriend for around 2 years and he was aways a amazing boyfriend everything you could ask for. Today was a long day at work not to mention you have a clients horse to train later today, on the way back from work you almost had a full breakdown in your truck.

Once you got home you did a shit parking job and went in the ranch house not bothering with your boots just going to Your Wilburs room. “Hi beautiful!” he spoke before looking up and seeing you about to cry “Oh, sweetie..” *his voice got much softer and her walked up to you hugging you tightly* “What’s wrong, do you wanna talk?” He asked you softly rubbing small circles along your back.

“I hate my job!” You cried “My boss is annoying and the customers were bratty kids with dads money!” You ranted about your day “When I was a kid I never got fancy bridals or tack I got one saddle and that was all! I had a lesson horse that was overworked that’s all!”

There was obviously more than just a bad shift happening but he didn’t push her to much “I know, but look now, you live on a ranch and own a amazing show horse with fancy tack, hm?” He kept rubbing gentle circles along your back.

“But that’s a problem too! I live on a ranch so I can’t just say traffic is bad when clients need me to ‘fix’ there horses, oh my god! I have to go work with that damn horse the new one, I don’t remember it’s stupid name!” You turned around and started to get ready in barn clothes but Wilbur quickly stopped you.

“You can do that tomorrow, I’ll even help you okay. Just stay here and let me hold you.” He mumbled sitting you down on the bed helping you take your boots off.

as you slowly laid down so did he pulling you close to him, he wiped your old tears and whispered sweet nothings as he ran his fingers through your hair the last thing you heard before drifting to sleep was him whispering “It’s alright.”

#wilbur #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #wilbur fluff #comfort #wilbur x y/n #wilbur x you #cowboy wilbur

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youaintnothinbuta · 2 years

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austin - “the hell you doin’?”

Summary: you run into an old friend(?) and Austin decides you been acting a little too cheeky for his liking

Pairing: austin x fem!reader

Word count: 1490

Warnings: dom!austin, LIME! no actual sex (yet, part 2 coming soon), choking

MASTERLIST

__________________

One of your old friends (I say friends as an act of curtesy, however, frenemies who would constantly be stabbing at each others backs yet still insisted you were besties was a more accurate description of your relationship with this girl) from high school, a year younger than you, had just called your name from the opposite end of an isle in the grocery store, which is how you ended up in this conversation.

“So, how’s everything with Michael?” You asked this girl, who had spilled to you practically every other detail of her life.

“Oh, we broke that off a few months ago.” She frowned slightly.

“Oh, I’m sorry I had no idea. Have you gotten back out into the dating world yet?”

“Funny you say that, actually, I was just thinking about Austin, from high school. You remember Austin, right? He’s like a full celebrity now.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course I remember. Austin.”

Yes, he was a “full celebrity” now, and he wasn’t in high school, this girl really had an eye for the obvious. Perhaps more importantly, he was your boyfriend. Maybe she actually wasn’t that observant, because you showed up to every event with him, but regardless; you found it rather amusing that she didn’t know of yours and Austin’s relationship. You had a choice- stop the conversation and be honest or let it play out and see how far she’ll take it.

“So you guys still friends or…?” She trailed off.

“More or less.”

Definitely more.

“Perfect. Can I have his number, if you have it?”

“Yeah, ‘course, I’ll give it to you in a sec.”

“Thanks.”

The conversation faltered, leaving you to think. A little tiny bit of harmless misleading wasn’t going to hurt, right? After all, you knew Austin wouldn’t at all give her the time of day, not even a little bit.

“Hey, actually, I’m going out to dinner tonight with a group and he’ll be there, why don’t you tag along?”

“Oh wow, okay, sure, I’d love to.” She smiled.

“I’ll text you the details when I get home.” You smiled back, as the pair of you slowly made your way to the checkout, exchanging details and then parting ways.

Later that evening, Austin was sat with a group of mates, waiting for you and a few others to arrive at their table. You walked in with your friend, your boyfriend lifting an eyebrow, surprised to see you walk in with her. He, being your boyfriend and the only person out of the group you’d known since high school, was the only one who knew your history with this girl.

“The hell you doin’?” He whispered as you gave him a hug. He knew you, and while you were a very kind person, he knew you had an ulterior motive with this girl.

“Nothin’ baby.” You responded, kissing him on the cheek. You sat down together, your friend sitting with you. His left hand gripped onto your thigh for a solid 10 minutes, and while you were enjoying as you always did, you wanted more of a reaction from the girl next to you.

“Do you like my hair, Aus? I tried braiding it and getting curls from that.” You asked him, knowing he’d compliment you.

“I do like it, s’very pretty, darlin’.” He took his hand off your thigh, instead reaching around your shoulder to the front of your face, brushing your hair back from in front of your body to behind your back, before resting his wrist down on your shoulder. He continued talking to his mates, his hand waving around in front of your face as he often spoke with them.

While she still was yet to be visibly angry, she was most certainly watching Austin intently. You locked eye contact with her, moving your face to kiss Austin’s fingers. She watched as you did so, keeping eyes locked with her the entire time. Your lips curled into a grin once you’d removed them from his knuckles, his thumb and index finger grabbed your chin gently in response.

“You bitch.” She stood up and stormed out. You laughed and waved her goodbye.

“What was that about?” Your boyfriend asked, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder.

“I’ll tell you later.” You smiled.

“Okay,” Austin laughed, “What’d you want to eat now, darlin?”

You, Austin and a group of your friends finished your dinner, you and Austin being the first of the couples to leave. He left his share and yours of the bill with them as you gave everyone a kiss on the cheek goodbye and headed out, his large hand wrapped around yours.

“Now, you wanna tell me what the hell you were doing? You’ve hated her since year 11.” He asked, reaching for his seatbelt, as were you.

“She expressed an interest in you, so I did what I had to.” You spoke, nonchalantly.

He raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what you were saying.

“Romantically. She wanted me to set her with with you.”

“And your first instinct wasn’t to tell her we’re together?” He asked.

“Well, I considered it.” You said, earning a chuckle from Austin as he pulled out the car park and the two of you headed to his place.

“And ultimately you decided upon…”

“I told her I’d be going out for dinner and you’d be there. She was expecting you to be hitting on her so really I don’t blame her for leaving. I guess she found our PDA nauseating or something. But at least I won’t have to talk to her ever again, which is nice.” You smiled.

“Angel, why was she expecting me to hit on her?” Austin asked, though he was pretty confident he already knew the answer.

“I told her you would.”

“You are evil.” He shook his head slightly, with a smile. “If I didn’t know you any better, I’d be scared of you.”

“Nothing to be scared off, you’re on my good side.” Your hand found its way to his knee, tapping it twice before resting it there. After a few minutes, you trailed your fingertips from his knee to his thighs, running a finger along his groin.

“Sweetheart.” He stuttered.

“Yeah?” You asked, fingers playing with his semi-hard dick through his pants.

“We’re ten minutes from home. Can ya just, hold on?”

“I can, but you look like you’re about to burst.”

Austin grabbed your hand from his body and moved it to your own thigh.

“Your behaviour the next ten minutes will decide how the rest of the nights gonna go, okay darlin’?”

You held back a scream. God, his tone of voice, his choice of words, it was all so sexy. You contemplated all the possible outcomes of the actions you may or may not partake in, ultimately deciding that no matter what Austin had in plan you’d enjoy it, so you might as well have your own fun. You reached back over to his crotch, unzipping his fly and cupping him in your hand.

“You don’t know what you’ve just got yourself into.” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I may not know what it is,” you bit your lip, “but I know it’s gonna feel so good.” You whined the last half of that sentence. Instantly, you felt his cock press against your hand and watched as he exhaled sharply. Your fingers trailed their way to his tip, swirling your thumb around, spreading his precum all over his tip.

You felt his hips buck. He didn’t say a word, his eyes fixed on the road. You were only streets away from his home now, and your heart started to race knowing he was not going to let this slide. What’s the point in stopping now? you thought.

“Feel that, Aus?” You asked him, squeezing his cock, making more precum ooze out of him. “So wet for me.” You teased him, something he’d always say to you.

The pair of you pulled into his driveway. He zipped up his pants and followed you to the front door, the car locking 20 seconds later.

“Get inside. Upstairs right now.” Austin snarled as he unlocked the front door, letting you inside, he wiped his boots on the doormat before stepping inside and locking the door behind him.

“And if I don’t?” You challenged him, arcing up to him, playfully. He grabbed your throat and jaw with his hand, his cold keys scratching lightly against your throat. He walked you backwards until your back was pressed against the wall.

“Get on your knees. I ain’t playin’. Ya hear me?” He growled.

You listened, sinking to the ground in front of his feet. He unzipped his fly once again, pushing his pants and underwear down around his knees. You steadied yourself with one hand gripping his thigh, the other holding his cock at the right angle for you to have your way with it.

A/N: sorry to leave y’all on a cliff hanger there but this has brought the FILTHIEST ideas to my mind and I’m trying to decide what Y/N’s punishment will be…. Hehe ;)

#austin butler #austin!elvis x y/n #austinbutler #austin x reader #austin elvis imagine

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elianamarie-blog · 2 years

Text

The Things You Give Part 28

IT'S ALMOST FAAAALLLLLLL! I am SO excited, but this chapter still takes place around Christmas and if you know me, I'm a huge Christmas person! I hope you guys like it! It maybe a little short, but I'm trying to make this like how the actual show would go. Tag list is open! (Imagine the gif as reader insert XD)

Y/n stared down at the paper, not able to comprehend what the hell she just read. She couldn’t tell if this was a dream or not. Then, she thought it was a joke. But after she had realized that it was real, her blood was boiling and she was shaking.

“Who would do this?” Kitty asked.

“I think I have an idea,” Hyde said and pointed to the name at the bottom of the article. Below it read the name Y/n never wanted to hear from again.

“Zack,” she quivered and all she could see was red. “I’m going to kill him. I’m actually going to kill him. Mom, you’re a nurse, what’s the best way to dispose a body?”

“I know you’re upset, but there’s no need to resort to felony,” Kitty said.

“Nope, nope,” Y/n huffed, walking away with her hands on her hips. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to hunt him down like a dog and I’m going to do things to him that Dad did to the Koreans during the war.” She looked up at her mother and husband. “I look good in orange; I can pull it off.”

“Y/n, you need to—” Hyde began but was cut off by his wife.

“I knew this wasn’t the end when we last saw him,” she continued, adrenaline pumping through her veins. “I don’t know what he has against me, but I’m going to make that son of a bitch pay.”

“It maybe something he has against us actually,” Steven said slowly.

“You know what it could be?” she asked, ignoring him. “It could be because I humiliated him in front of you guys a few months back. Yeah, that’s it. Now he’s trying to get back at me.”

“Or both of us,” Hyde repeated, this time catching her attention.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you this, but Kelso, Forman, Fez, and I ran into Zack at the bachelor party.”

Her face hardened and her eyes grew cold. “What?” she spit.

“It’s not like we went looking for him,” he continued. “We were at the bar and he and his dillhole friends showed up and started giving us crap. Then he mentioned you and I snapped.”

“Is that why you were in jail?!”

“Partially. After we got thrown out, they jumped us on the street then they bolted when the cops came.”

Y/n’s glare could burn a hole through the wall. “And why didn’t you tell me?” she asked calmly, too calm.

“Because I didn’t want to upset you…and by the look on your face that clearly didn’t work.”

“Ya think?!”

“Y/n, honey, you need to calm down,” Kitty said gently. “You need to watch your stress level; it’s not good for the babies.”

“I’ll calm down after I’m through with him,” Y/n said and turned back to her husband. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I have someone I need to go take care of.” With that, she snatched the paper out of Kitty’s hands and stomped out the basement, slamming the door behind her.

“You ran into Zack and you didn’t tell her?” Kitty asked, popping a hand on her hip. “And you didn’t even win?!”

“Yeah, that was a bummer for me too,” Hyde replied and trudged upstairs. “I better go after her so that she doesn’t do something stupid.”

“Is it bad that I want to see her kill him?” Fez asked.

“Fez…” Kitty trailed off, shaking her head, but then remembered who it was. “Actually, no…no, it’s not. I want to see that dumbass pay too.”

“Let’s go, then?” Fez asked the group excitedly.

“Let’s go!” Eric answered as everyone hurriedly followed him out the door.

--Time Skip--

“Where is he?!” Y/n roared as she practically barged into the Hub. Everyone inside whipped their heads at her, startled. “Where is Zack?!” She snapped her head to the guy at the counter. “Simon, have you seen him?”

The long haired blond hippie pointed a finger at the men’s room. With fire in her eyes, she stomped over to the door and started pounding on the door with her fists. “Zack! Get out! NOW!” She continued to pound on the door, yelling, until the tall brunet walked out with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, Y/n, what a pleasant surprise,” he purred, leaning into the door frame. “What do I owe this pleasure to?”

“You know exactly what this is about, you jackass,” she spat. “What the HELL is wrong with you?! Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”

He cocked his head to the side mockingly. “I don’t what you’re talking about.”

“This, you son of a bitch!” she screeched and threw the paper at his head. He ducked as the paper hit the bathroom door with a loud thud. “I don’t know what the hell I did to make you hate me so damn much, but this crap ends now!”

“Hey, hey, hey calm down,” he said gently, pretending to care. “You need to calm down so that you won’t hurt the baby.”

“How did you find out?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.

“It’s a small town; people talk.”

“And yet you felt the need to put it in the paper.”

“Oh, but it’s such juicy gossip, I just had to.”

“Or you can just mind your own freaking business. This doesn’t concern you.”

At this point, the gang had shuffled through the door, eager to watch the show.

“Yeah? Or what?” He smirked and looked down at her, crossing his arms. “You’re pregnant, not like you can do much.”

She didn’t respond, but angrily glare at him. Before she could think, she drew her leg back and swung it straight into his crotch. The group cringed outwardly as Zack whimpered and fell to his knees.

“That,” Y/n spit as she looked down at him. She watched with satisfaction as he fought to breathe.

“You…bitch,” he breathed through gritted teeth.

“What’s it going to take for you to get the hint, huh?!” she yelled at him, drawing more attention to them. “I want nothing to do with you! If anything, I should be making your life a living hell after what you did to me.”

Zack couldn’t speak as he was too busy holding his nads and breathing through the pain.

“Why did you do this?” she demanded. “This isn’t high school anymore; you’re never going to relive your glory days ever again. When you get out into the real world, no one gives a crap about who you were in high school. Face it, buddy, you’ve peaked.”

“Have…not…” he continued to breathe.

“You’re never going to be the star of the show ever again. You screwed that up when you got kicked out of your university. Congrats on that, by the way.” She knelt to his level, inches away from his face. “If I ever, ever see you again or hear you being near my husband or my friends, you’re going to be waking up in a hospital bed. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah?” Zack let out a breathy laugh and stood himself up to his knees. “What are you going—”

Before she gave him a chance to finish his sentence, she pulled her fist back and delivered a hard blow to the side of his face. Zack let out a pained wail as he hit the dirty floor.

“You want to keep going?!” she screamed.

“What the hell?!” He slowly got up again, holding his face.

“Keep at it, and the next time I see you, it’ll be my foot in your ass!” She turned to leave, but before she did, she delivered another hard blow to his face. Once again, he let out a screech and fell to the floor, but this time stayed down. “And that is for my husband!”

The room was in stunned silence as they watched Y/n walk out the building.

“Holy crap!” Donna cheered once she walked out the building. “Y/n, that was amazing!”

“Thanks,” Y/n said, waving her sore hand. “You know hitting someone hurts more than it looks.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hyde said. “I can’t believe you actually did that. You totally kicked his ass!”

“Yeah…it feels kinda good,” she admitted sheepishly.

“I’m so proud of, honey!” Kitty giggled. “For a minute there, I saw your father.”

“My girl’s a scrapper!” Steven cried out excited, slapping his fast into his palm.

“Awe, thanks, baby,” she cooed before giving him a kiss. “Now, about you and Zack…”

“Yeah, about that; I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t think it would be a good idea to add more stress onto you and—”

“Steven—"

“And I don’t think it would’ve made a difference—”

“Steven—”

“And I didn’t want you to think that—”

“Steven! Shut up for a minute and let me talk.” He closed his mouth and nodded. “What happened, happened,” she began. “We can’t change that, but I only wanted you to tell me because I wanted to do that sooner.” She motioned toward Zack who was ambling out of the diner, hunched over in pain.

Hyde chuckled. “Well, now maybe he learned his lesson not to mess with a pregnant Forman girl.”

“Hyde,” she corrected and smiled at him. “He learned not to mess with a pregnant Hyde girl.”

“Aweeee,” the group cooed.

“Are you still here?!” Steven snapped, making Y/n laugh.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” she offered, extending her hand to him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing my ass off.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” He accepted her hand as they made their way to the cars.

“Can we get hot chocolate on the way home?” Fez asked as they piled into the vehicles.

--Time Skip—

“I can’t believe you came back, Teddy!” Annalyn cried out in joy. “I knew you would!”

She hugged the little bear that had come to life to meet her there on the snowy Christmas Eve. It wordlessly looked at her and touched his nose to her cheek, kissing her.

“I love you too, Teddy!” she squealed.

“What do we have here?” her mother asked, coming to the front door and looked down at her daughter. “Where did this come from?”

"He was at the door, waiting for me, Mom! He came for me!”

The tired woman knitted her brows together. “I wonder who could’ve possibly dropped it off? Was there a note?”

Annalyn nodded, handing a piece of white paper to her and clung Teddy to her chest.

“Have a Merry Christmas. Mr. C.,” her mother read aloud and felt something she hadn’t felt all Christmas long. “I can’t believe Dennis did this.”

"It wasn’t Dennis, Mom! It was Santa!”

She smiled kindly at her daughter. “Sure, baby, it was Santa.”

“Oh, Mom, before I forget,” the young squealed and hugged her mom around the waist. “Tell him yes.”

“What?”

“Say ‘yes’ to Dennis!”

“What do you—”

“I’m not supposed to tell you, but Santa told me your gift from Dennis. Say ‘yes’ Mom!”

She was speechless, but nodded her head. “I’ll talk to Dennis when he comes over tomorrow.”

Annalyn squealed with delight and turned to her stuffed friend. “Can you believe it, Teddy? I get you and a dad!” She hugged the bear tightly again. “Best Christmas ever!”

As she turned to walk away, Teddy faced her mother and winked at her. Her mother stood there completely stunned as she had just seen the truth Annalyn had been talking about the entire time.

Y/n sat on the couch, sniffling and wiping her nose as Steven sat beside her with a puzzled and disgusted look.

“You actually like this crap?” he asked.

“It’s not crap, it’s sweet!” Y/n croaked and blew her nose. “It’s a heartwarming Christmas movie.”

“Y/n, it’s crap,” he repeated.

“Okay, Grinch, what kind of movies do you like?”

“You know I’m not really into things like that,” he responded. “Or the holidays in general.”

“Is it because of your mom?”

“Everything wrong with me is because of my mom,” he retorted.

“Well, like I’ve said, she’s not around anymore,” Y/n responded and laid a hand against his chest. “You can start to enjoy things that you couldn’t as a kid. And one of them being holidays.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said and placed a hand over hers. “I guess with the twins on the way, I can start to enjoy things like that.”

“Yeah,” she answered gently, giving him a wide smile. As she leaned up to give him a kiss, there was a knock at the door.

Hyde checked his watch that showed to be past 9pm. “Who the hell is here at this hour?” He got up and walked to the door, answering it.

There, stood Edna Hyde once more. “Hi, Steven.”

“Ah, crap.”

--Time Skip--

“I don’t know where to live,” Fez whined as he chewed on his drink’s straw. “My foster overly religious-pieces-of-crap foster parents kicked me out. Where the hell am I supposed to live?” He sat at a booth at the Hub with Kelso and Donna while agonizing over a newspaper with local listings.

“Yeah, me neither,” Kelso chimed in. “I can’t stay at my parents’ house anymore. I need a private area where I can raise my daughter."

“Understandable,” Fez said, nodding and turned back to the newspaper. “Man, there is nothing! It’s like I need a roommate or something.”

“Yeah, same,” Kelso muttered, balling up the paper from the straw.

“Well, I hope you find someone,” Fez said.

“You too, buddy,” Kelso said.

Donna looked between the two of them. “Or,” she started and leaned forward in her seat. “You two can, I don’t know, room together?”

The two men looked at each other.

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Fez said.

“Why didn’t we think of that?!” Kelso asked.

“You’re welcome,” Donna said, leaning back in her chair.

“We should go tomorrow and check some out,” Kelso said. “We can find a nice place!”

“With a pool!” Fez said excitedly. “We can meet some girls there.”

"Yeah, that’s right, buddy. We can bring Betsy too. She’s a chick magnet.”

“Two guys and a baby? We’ll be the hottest ones there!”

“That’s not how I would put it,” Donna said, smirking.

“What do you mean?” Kelso asked.

“I wouldn’t think that two guys with a baby would make them available to women if you know what I mean,” she responded.

The two men looked at her confused.

“Oh, for the love of—they wouldn’t be into you because they’d think you’re into each other!”

“Oh,” Kelso responded, it daunting on him. “Well, we don’t want that.”

“No, no,” Fez said. “We can take turns!”

“Are you asking to borrow my baby to pick up chicks?” Kelso asked, offended.

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. Sorry,” Fez said.

“No, that’s totally awesome!” Kelso said and high fived Fez, laughing. “We’re gonna get so laid!”

Donna groaned and hid her face in her hand. “Oh, my God.”

--Time Skip--

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hyde asked, irritated. “I told you to never come here.”

“I wanted to hash out our problems,” Edna replied and let herself in. “I think I’m owed that.”

“You’re not owed anything,” he spat. “You don’t get to come here when you were never around. And come in by the way.”

“Come on, Steven. Let’s talk,” Edna said, closing the door.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Good. You can just listen.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“God, you’re just as stubborn as me. You know what they say, ‘Like mother, like son.’”

“Don’t do that!” Steven said harshly and pointed a finger at her. “Don’t compare me to you. I am nothing like you!”

“Hey, come on, can’t we talk about this like civilized adults?” she asked coolly. Too coolly.

“I don’t need to hear you play victim and give me excuses as to why you were a crap mom.”

“Oh, ouch. That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No. In fact, I think that’s the nicer way of putting it.

“Look, Steven, I want to be a part of these kids’ lives.”

“Absolutely not,” he said curtly. “You’re not going to mess up my kids the same way you did to me.”

“Would it help if I apologized?”

Her questions surprised him. It’s like the gears in his brain stopped as he heard her say something she has never said before. “W-would it help if-if you what?!”

“Apologized. Look, Steven,” she began and took a hesitant step toward him. “I know I wasn’t a good mom to you and I…am sorry, but I want to make it up to you by being a good grandma to your children.”

He glared at her coldly. “Apologize for what?”

“Well, for everything.”

“No, that doesn’t mean anything to me unless you apologize for all the crap that you put me through!”

“I’m sorry for all the crap I put you through,” she repeated, rolling her eyes. “There, are you happy?”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Am I happy? Hell, no I’m not happy! You really messed up my childhood and I’m not about to let you do the same to my kids. I don’t know you even care as much! If you didn’t care about me, what in the hell makes you think you’re going to care about the kids?”

“Well, I see how successful you’ve become working with your dad and I wanted to watch you become the parent I could never be.”

The air in the room dropped to deathly silent, Hyde realizing what this was about. “This is about money, isn’t it?"

“It’s not about you or your money,” she said sharply. “This about me and my future grandchildren.”

“Nah, I know you,” he responded. “You want something. Are you using me to get to W.B?”

“Now, what makes you think that?”

“You’ve never given me a reason not to,” he spat. “I find it odd that you’re back after a couple months of seeing him and just want to suddenly be better. What—your last boyfriend just dumped you and you have no means of paying the bills? Or you owe money to”

“That’s not fair, Steven.”

“You want to talk to me about fair?!” he started to raise his voice, attracting Red and Kitty’s attention. Y/n sat there, frozen. “Everything you ever did to me wasn’t fair! I already told you everything I needed to and I shouldn’t have to repeat myself. So, get out.”

“Steven, come on—”

“No, you don’t get to decide when to come back into my life,” he snapped. “I decide when you can and right now, you��re looking at never. Get. Out.”

“But, I just want to—”

“He said get out,” Red said sternly from the stairs. “If you don’t want to be escorted by the police, you better do what he says.”

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Steven said. “She’s on a first name basis with them.”

Edna’s eyes never left Steven’s cold ones. “Fine. But you’ll see me again.”

Steven set his jaw. “And what a horrible day that will be.”

“It won’t be fun for me either, boy,” she hissed.

“Edna, that’s enough,” Y/n cut in, standing between in front of her husband. “Leave, or I’ll make you leave.”

Edna snorted. “You’re cute. I can’t wait to spend more time with you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you do what you do best and leave?”

“Oh, ouch. I have to admit, that one hurt my feelings a little bit.”

“Yeah, if you had feelings,” Steven said.

Edna snorted again. “Bye, Steven. I’ll see you later.”

“No, you won’t,” he responded and pushed her out of the door, slamming it shut. Once she was gone, he ran a hand down his face. “Son of a bitch.”

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked, comfortingly rubbing his back.

“No,” he replied and walked down the step to the couch. “She’s the most repulsive human being I’ve known…and I dated Jackie!”

“She only does that to get under your skin,” his wife responded and sat next to him.

“She does it because she wants something from me,” he said. “She heard about W.B having money, and now she thinks we do. Well, let me tell you this: I’m not giving her a damn dime.”

“As you shouldn’t,” Red boomed from the stairs and lazily trotted down to meet them in the living room. “Every single penny that you make will be going towards you and your family. You owe her nothing.”

“Exactly,” Y/n agreed and wrapped her hands around Steven’s. “Don’t let her get to you. By being upset means that she's winning. She doesn't deserve that.”

“Okay, Hallmark,” Steven chuckled and ran his hand up her arm, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”

Y/n smiled and kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome.”

“Well, now that’s sorted out, I made eggnog and cookies,” Kitty announced excitedly. “Who wants some?”

“I’ll take some cookies!” Y/n jumped up from the couch.

“Y/n, you just ate an entire bowl of candy,” Steven pointed out.

She started at him blankly. “What’s your point?”

--Time Skip—

Christmas Day….

The outside world was peacefully quiet; the birds didn’t sing as they snuggled to each other to keep it warm. The sun hid behind grayed clouds where the whitest snow of the years gently drifted to the ground, making Point Place look like a Winter Wonderland.

The Forman and Hyde—and Fez—household laid comfortably in their warm beds. For the first time in a long time, everything was peaceful and quiet, a state that they all haven’t felt in a long time. And that was the only Christmas gift they could all ask for.

Y/n stirred gently in her sleep, her eyes peeling open. She peaked at her clock beside her and it read 6:48am. She turned to her side to her handsome, sleeping husband; his breathing slow and deep. He looked younger when he slept, his lashes danced along his cheekbones and while his tousled curls rested against forehead.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked deeply, his voice groggy.

“I can’t help it. You’re just so good looking,” she responded and combed her fingers through his hair before brushing it down to the side of his face, scratching his sideburns. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he grunted and scooted closer, pulling her closer to his chest—well, as close as he could without her baby bump getting too squished. “You’re belly got bigger.”

“Thanks. Maybe I should’ve played Santa at the mall this year,” she grumbled.

He chuckled. “Nah, you’re way too hot for that.”

She laughed quietly and pecked his nose. “At least there’s that.”

He smiled back at her as his eyelids drifted closed. “What time is it?” he whispered.

She yawned. “Almost seven.”

“Should we get up?”

“Let’s just stay here for a little while,” she responded. “Before everyone wakes up.”

"Sounds good,” he grumbled, falling asleep again.

As Y/n snuggled into her husband’s side, their bedroom door flew open.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” Kitty bellowed. “Get up, get up! Santa came by!”

The couple groaned in unison as they pulled apart, rolling onto their backs.

“Mom, please, it’s too early for this,” Elena groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Yeah, well, get used to it,” Kitty responded. “It’s going to be worse when your kids are here.”

“Yeah, let us enjoy this last year,” Steven said, pulling a pillow onto his face.

“Nope! Get up!” Kitty squeaked. “Be downstairs in five minutes to open presents!” She closed the door behind her as she walked into Eric’s room.

“You know, we can just lock the door,” Steven offered.

“You really want to do that and deal with an angry Kitty later?” Y/n warned.

“I mean, come on, we’re adults, I’m sure she won’t—”

In the distance behind their closed door, they heard from Eric’s room, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

“MOM!”

40 minutes later…

“Wow…another rain coat,” Eric’s faux enthusiasm filled the room.

The living room was littered with empty boxes and unwrapped gifts. Red sat in his usual chair, Eric and Kitty on the couch, Y/n and Steven sat on the floor by the piano and Fez sat in front of the coffee table.

The gifts were almost completely opened, everyone getting a few presents each; even Fez got a few things from his friends and Kitty. A leather jacket, some records, and some cash. Not to mention a bag full of his favorite sweets. The smile on his face said his appreciation.

“I know you wanted one,” Kitty said proudly. “I even put rocks to distract you. And see the suede of the jacket? It’ll keep you warm indefinitely.”

“Wow…thanks, Mom,” he said and put the jacket back in the box. “I’ll make sure to add this to my collection of the other raincoats.”

“Okay, okay, now open my gift!” Y/n said excitedly and handed him her gift. A decent sized, heavy gift.

He picked it up, surprised at its weight. “I swear to God, if it’s another box with rocks—”

“Just open it!” Y/n said, giddy.

Eric sighed through his nose as he began to unwrap it. “Wow! A box!” he shouted sarcastically. "Just like I've always wanted!"

"Shut up, Forman and open the damn present,” Hyde said impatiently.

Eric chuckled as he opened the box. “Oh, wow! Star Wars blankets. Thanks, guys,” Eric said calmly and appreciatively. “Very nice. But did you really have to go Mom’s route and put rocks in it?”

“The blankets are wrapped in something,” Y/n said, smiling.

His eyebrows knit together as unfolded the blankets. Under the blankets, was a brand new gaming console: The Atari 2600. “Oh, my God!” he shouted. “I can’t believe you bought this for me! How did you know that I wanted it?!”

“Call it twin telepathy,” Y/n responded, laughing. “Also, you may have only mentioned it a thousand times.”

“Thank you, guys, this gift is really awesome,” Eric said as Fez ‘oohed’ the gift.

“Here, I got you something too,” Eric said and reached behind the couple to their gift. “It’s for the both of you.”

It was a small, light box. “Is it a book? Feels like a book,” Y/n said as she ripped the paper open. Inside was a book and another small gift wrapped. “What To Expect When You’re Expecting,” Y/n read aloud.

“Yeah, I heard a lot of expecting parents like to read this sort of stuff to prepare for their babies,” Eric said.

“Oh, well that’s very thoughtful. Thank you, Eric,” Y/n said and set the book down. “Very helpful.” She turned to the wrapped gifts and ripped it open. When she saw what the gift was, her eyes teared up.

“What? What is it?” Kitty asked.

Y/n sniffed and held up two small, baby T-shirts that read My uncle loves me more than Star Wars! And that says a lot. Beneath it was the face of Darth Vader.

“Oh, Eric,” Kitty said softly, tears welling up in her eyes as well. “That is so sweet.”

“I hope you like it,” Eric said. “I saw it at the store and thought it was cute for them and—” He didn’t get to finish before Y/n threw her arms around his neck.

“I love it,” she whispered. “This is the best gift you could give me.”

“Oh, well, if I knew you’d be that easy to shop for, I would’ve stuck to T-shirts a long time ago.” He patted her back as she pulled away from him.

“Thank you,” she said. “It’ll look perfect on the babies.”

He smiled gently. “Good.”

As Y/n resumed her seat next to Hyde, Eric looked to Red who was giving him a softened look.

“Good job, son.”

Eric nodded towards him. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Alright, is that everyone?” Kitty asked, wiping her eyes. “Let’s all clean up and get changed and get the ham started!”

As everyone started to clean up, Eric brought Hyde and Y/n to the side.

“You think I forgot about you, my friend?” he asked Hyde. “I have your gift downstairs in your old room. It’s from our good friend, Mary Jane.”

Steven laughed. “Hell yeah, man! We’ll do circle time later!”

Eric gave him a lopsided smile and turned to return to everyone else.

Later that night, after dinner was over, Fez, Eric, Hyde, and Elena sat around circle time. Y/n leaned back as to not inhale any of the smoke.

“Best Christmas present ever,” Hyde said with a lazy grin on his face.

“Yeah,” Fez said with a dopey grin. “Whoever you got this from, Eric, knows his stuff.”

Eric laughed. “It’s Leo, man!”

“Why am I not surprised?” Y/n chuckled.

“Hey, what time is it?” Eric asked and looked at his brand-new Star Wars watch. “Oh, shoot, we still need to go to Donna’s.”

“Alright, I’ll get our coats,” Fez said and trotted up the stairs with Eric.

Steven got up to join them, but Y/n stopped him. “Hang on, I got something for you.”

“You already got me something,” he chuckled.

“No, I got you something else.” She reached into the shower and came out with a small box in hand. “Here.”

He wrapped his fingers around the box and opened it. Inside was a white, ceramic mug. When he pulled it out, bold letters were imprinted on it: Worlds Greatest Dad.

“I saw it and thought of you,” Y/n said. “I thought you could bring it to work. I hope you like it.”

Hyde didn’t respond, which made Y/n nervous, but that soon melted away when he wrapped his hands around her face and his mouth met hers. “I love it.”

She smiled into the kiss. “Good. ‘Cause I love you."

“I love you,” he whispered and pecked her lips once more.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Hyde,” she said lovingly.

The corner of his mouth lifted in an endearing smile. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hyde.”

Tags: @not-shy-nanya @taysirene @05-feet-off-the-table-06 @mdittyz123 @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-003 @lieswithoutfairytales @xxivy-32 @chloem4a1 @srhxpc

#steven hyde x y/n #stevenhydeedit #steven hyde x reader #that 70s show #that 70's show fanfic #eric forman x reader #eric forman #i just love when fez sings this because it's so cute haha #fez that 70s show #red and kitty forman #donna pinciotti x reader #donna pinciotti #eric and donna #michael kelso x reader

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mychemicalimagines · 2 years

Text

Black Flame Candle-Max Dennison-Chapter 1

Summary: Max Dennison is the new kid in Salem, Massachusetts. On Halloween, his life takes a dramatic turn when his parents force him to take his little sister, Dani, trick-or-treating. He, his crush, Casey Blackstone, and his sister are in for a ride when Max lights the Black Flame Candle.

Series Warnings: Slight Language, Fluff, Flirting, Angst, Supernatural, Paranormal, Canon Deaths, Bullying. This series is a little more adult than the Disney movie.

Words: 3,446

Tag List: Reblogged

A/N: Here it is! Our secret Halloween Story!! We worked so hard to get this out to you for the month of October!! Divider belongs to firefly-graphics. Do you guys like the gifs? Let Me know if you want them to be continued.

Comments are always welcome! They give me motivation to post!

If you would liked to be tagged, Message Me, Comment, Submit an Ask or Tag Yourself in My Bio!!

Third Person POV

‘It’s all just a bunch of Hocus Pocus.’

Salem, Massachusetts has always been known for its witchcraft allegations as well as for how they handled each case, calling them the Salem Witch Trials. Three centuries ago, hundreds of people were accused, but only a mere thirty were found guilty. Nineteen were hanged due to the false accusations placed upon them, while others died in jail or were pressed to death.

Thackery Binx found his sister being whisked away by three actual witches, The Sanderson sisters, who needed her for a spell to stay young and beautiful. The same night his sister had passed away, and his disappearance, the three witches were hanged for their witchcraft, but vowed they’d be back.

Now every Halloween, the entire town goes all out for the festivities. Casey Blackstone has lived in Salem all her life and loves the holiday. It’s the one time of year she can eat as much candy as she wants and no one will bat an eye, well except for her dentist father. She also loves wearing costumes, being someone else besides herself for a night.

Since her family, as well as her friend Allison’s, thinks they are too old to be trick or treating, they are forced to give out candy this year while Allison’s family has a party. Her parents wanted to go to the party at Town Hall but they got sick so they’re staying home. Her costume is already at the Watt’s house, waiting to be put on later that night.

Sighing to herself as she fixes her hair in the mirror, Casey turns to her black cat that is sitting on her bed watching her.

Due to the holiday and the history they are taught every year, she felt there was only one name fitting for a black cat such as the one she found almost eleven years ago.

“What do you think of today’s outfit, Binx?” She throws her hands out, showing off her purple low-cut shirt as well as her slightly ripped jeans.

Binx meows his response before stepping toward her to rub his face against her hip, causing his collar to clink against the bell she forces him to wear.

“I like it too.” She smiles and pets his head as she kneels down next to her bed. “Alright, I got to go to school. Remember, don’t bring mice into the house. If you’re going to bring female cats home, make sure it’s not in my room. I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re my best friend and I love you.”

She kisses the top of his head before picking up her bookbag and walking out of the room, not noticing him climbing out of her window as soon as she closes her door a smidge. She wasn’t lying. Her cat was her best friend and she makes sure to tell him everyday, despite him probably not knowing what the hell she’s saying.

She had found him in her backyard one day, eating a mouse with no collar. It was clear that he belonged to no one, that he was on his own. She knew she had to take him in, after asking her parents of course. Ever since, she’s been feeding him, playing with him and letting him sleep on her bed, cuddled up next to her.

She even lets him roam free, knowing he’ll come right back home. He’s literally her best friend and she wouldn’t trade him for the world, even if he leaves her surprises on the back porch. After slipping on her shoes and red jacket, she walks out the front door, ready to take on the day.

Max Dennison has only been in town for about a week and a half and he already hates it. He misses the sunny days of California. He misses his friends. Hell, he misses his old house. To him, Salem, Massachusetts is a horrible place to live. It’s gloomy, rainy and far too obsessed with this witchy, Halloween stuff.

It was never his favorite holiday to begin with so moving to a town that is all for it irritates him. He can’t wait to move once he turns eighteen next year. The only thing good about this town is this one girl. On Max’s first day of school earlier this week, he caught sight of a beautiful girl. Blonde hair. These crystal blue eyes that remind him of the ocean back home.

He’s never even spoken a word to her and he’s already hooked. He rubs his eyes as he walks to his final class of the day. History. The third class he has with the girl he has his eyes on. Seeing her will make this boring class worth it. He sits down in his assigned seat and pulls out his notebook, unsure of what they will be learning today.

As he opens his notebook, he glances up at a soft giggle that enters his ears. There she is. The purple shirt she’s wearing really brings out her eyes, and he’s really trying hard not to look down a smidge. As she walks by him, he quickly looks down at his notebook, not wanting to be caught watching her.

Since she sits in the row next to him, but one seat behind, he can easily get caught by the teacher, or hell, another student! Maybe today, he’ll finally talk to her…yeah, probably not going to happen. As class starts, their teacher, Miss Olin who is dressed as a witch, begins telling the legend of the Sanderson Sisters.

The very legend that Casey got her cat's name from. Even though she knows every bit of the legend, she’s listening closely, hoping to hear something different but she never does. Max, however, is doodling in his notebook, not believing one ounce of the story.

“Poor Thackery Binx. Neither his father, his mother, nor anyone else ever knew what became of him…those 300 years ago.” Miss Olin says, walking up an aisle before stopping in front of the classroom. “And so the Sanderson Sisters were hanged by the Salem townsfolk. Now, there are those who say that on Halloween night…a black cat still guards the old Sanderson house, warning off any who might make the witches…come back to life!”

She then throws a black ribbon attached to her hand at a girl’s face causing the teenage girl to scream in fright. The rest of the students in the room, besides Max, laugh at her scream. Max shakes his head in disbelief as he doodles.

“Give me a break.” He mumbles, moving his pen along the letters he drew.

“Aha, we seem to have a skeptic in our midst.” Miss Olin raises an eyebrow as she steps toward his desk. “Mr. Dennison, would you care to share your California, laid-back, tie-dyed point of view?”

The room erupted into laughter again at her sarcasm. He looks up at her after glancing around the room and smirks, gaining some courage.

“Okay. Granted that, uh, you guys here in Salem are all into these, uh, black cats and witches and stuff…”

Miss Olin cuts him off with a scoff while the rest of the room let him know that his words were unneeded by their tones of displeasure.

“Stuff?”

“Fine. But everyone here knows that Halloween was invented by the candy companies. It’s a conspiracy.” He finishes, smirking at his teacher.

A voice speaks up, capturing Max’s attention. He turns toward the voice and his cheeks redden a bit at who is talking. It’s her…

“It just so happens that Halloween is based on the ancient feast called All Hallows Eve. It’s the one night of the year where the spirits of the dead can return to earth.” She explains, giving the teenager her own smirk.

The class breaks out into cheers and claps at her comment, happy to prove the new kid wrong with his non-beliefs and crappy theories. He turns back to his notebook and flips to a new paper, quickly jotting something down, a small smile on his face as he keeps his courage.

“Well said, Casey.” Miss Olin says, smiling widely at her, clapping herself.

She grins to herself and high fives Allison who is sitting right behind the non-believer. Max stands up from his chair as his classmates talk around him. He takes a few steps toward her desk, capturing her attention.

“Well, in case Jimi Hendrix shows up tonight, here’s my number.” He says, holding out the piece of paper.

She raises an eyebrow, ignoring her classmates groans, and takes the single sheet before opening it up. ‘Max Dennison 555-9142’ it reads. The bell rings and Casey stands up from her chair, giving the boy a small smirk as she puts the number in her pocket. He smiles at her actions before watching her walk away.

“Max.” A boy that sat behind her captures his attention. “Fat chance.”

The new kid just rolls his eyes and gathers his stuff up, ready to go home. Casey quickly stops at her locker, making sure to grab her jacket while sticking all her books in the metal container. Since Halloween is such a big holiday in Salem, the school doesn’t give out homework if it lands on a weekend such as today.

As she puts her notebook away, she notices a pen sitting on the top shelf. Smirking to herself, she pulls out Max’s number and rips the paper, jotting something down on one half. Shoving one piece into her jeans pocket and the other, along with the pen, into her jacket pocket, she hangs her bookbag on the hook and closes the door.

Casey then jogs out to the front doors, meeting up with Allison as she glances around the parking lot.

“So did he really give you his number?” Allison asks, fixing her bag that rests on her shoulder as they walk down the sidewalk.

“He did.” She nods, smiling softly to herself as she plays with the paper in her jacket pocket.

“And are you going to call him?” Her friend raises an eyebrow.

“If I do, it won't be till…”

“Casey!”

The blonde turns around and sees the new kid on his bike, riding toward her. She looks at her best friend and gestures down the road.

“I’ll catch up.”

Allison raises an eyebrow at the brunette haired boy before nodding at her friend. Casey turns back around and watches as Max stops his bike beside her, panting very softly as he straddles his seat.

“Hi.” She says, smiling slightly at him.

“Hi. Look, uhh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in class.” He says, regretting his actions.

He thought about it on his way to his bike. He shouldn’t have done that. What if she hates him now? What if she never wants to see him again? He practically humiliated her in front of their entire class.

“You didn’t.” She shrugs, not caring one bit about the awkward exchange that happened.

If anything, she’s the one that embarrassed him in front of the entire class by proving him wrong. He pauses for a moment, unsure of what to say so he lets go of his handlebars and holds his hand out to her.

“My name is Max Dennison.” He says, despite having practically told her through his note.

“Yeah, I know.” She says, shaking his hand. “You just moved here, huh?”

“Yeah, last week.” He says, not wanting to think about how soft her hands were compared to his.

“Must be a big change for you.” She says, letting go of his hand to put her own back into her jacket pocket.

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” He says, scoffing slightly, gripping his handlebars again.

“You don’t like it here?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, the leaves are great…” He says, gesturing around them. “But - I - I don’t know. Just all this Halloween shit.”

“You don’t believe in it?” She asks, pushing her hip out slightly as she rests most of her body weight on one leg, not caring about his language.

“What? Do you mean, like The Sanderson Sisters?” He shakes his head with a light chuckle escaping his lips. “No way.”

“Not even on Halloween?” She asks, biting her lip softly, trying to hide her amusement.

“Especially not on Halloween.” He says, putting emphasis on the beginning of his sentence with a smile.

Casey licks the inside of her cheek before reaching into her pocket. Holding up two fingers with a piece of paper sitting between them, she gently pulls Max’s left hand off his handlebars. He opens his hand, watching her movements, praying that his cheeks aren’t turning red at her actions. She presses the piece of paper into his hand, smiling as she looks up at him as she closes his hand around it.

“Trick or treat.”

Letting his hand go, she turns around and starts walking toward where Allison is waiting, talking to another friend of theirs. Max’s eyes watch her before looking down at the folded paper. His heart is pounding in his chest as he moves to open the paper.

“Max!” He hears her call out for him, causing his head to snap up. “Call me Cas.”

Not knowing what to say, he nods at her words, watching her walk away again. This time, she turns around and puts up her red hood, making it look like she was wearing a witch’s pointed hat. He bites his lip and looks back down at the piece of paper. Swallowing the small amount of spit in his mouth, he unfolds the paper.

The first thing that caught his eye was that the top half was ripped off, meaning…she kept his number! He smiles softly before looking at the words written. ‘Casey Blackstone. 555-????. No tricks, Max. Earn your treat.’ with a smiley face. The smile drops from his face for a moment before it shows up again.

She didn’t give him her full number, but by the way she wrote this note, she might plan on giving it to him later! Hell, if she did keep his number, is she going to call him later? He looks back up toward the direction his blonde crush was walking to see her in the distance, walking with her friend. He bites the inside of his lip before putting the note into his pocket.

“What was that about?” Allison asks, glancing over her shoulder to see Max pedaling away on his bike.

“Oh, nothing.” Casey grins as she walks. “Just apologizing for embarrassing me in class.”

“Oh!” She nods before squealing softly. “Anyway! My mom said your costume will go great with ours.”

“Do I really have to be a peasant while your whole family, as well as their friends, are wearing Masquerade outfits?” She groans slightly.

“She said there were only two dresses so she had to get you something else.” Allison says, shrugging.

“I knew I should have gotten the bunny costume when I had the chance.” Casey mumbles, walking down the road.

Max is ready to go back home to California. Today has been one of the worst days of his entire life. First, he embarrasses his crush in class. She said he didn’t, but he knows he did. Then he was stopped at the graveyard by two wanna-be rapper bullies, Jay and Ernie. Sorry, Ice - not Ernie. Lastly, they took his brand new shoes!

His shoes! What jerks take someone else’s shoes? He had to pedal all the way back home in just his socks. It was so humiliating. He parks his bike next to the house and practically stomps up the stairs to the back door. Slamming the screen door open, he opens the wooden door that leads to the kitchen to see his mom and dad putting away items from their move.

“Hey, Max!” His mom says, smiling at him. “Hey, how was school?”

“It fucking sucked.” He says, leaving the door open as he makes his way through the room.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch your language.” His dad says, standing up from the floor.

He ignores him and starts walking up the stairs that lead to the bedrooms.

“I can’t believe you made me move here!” He calls down before walking to his door.

He slams his head against the wood, next to his name plate that he put there, causing his hat to bunch up. He sighs and smacks the door with the side of his fist. Taking a second to himself, he opens the door and throws his book bag onto the floor near to his drum set. He rips his hat off his head and throws it against the stairs in his room that leads to the window seat above.

He shakes off his jacket as he walks and tosses it to the ground behind him. Trying to calm himself down, he sighs deeply as he looks out the window before glancing down at the fish tank he has beside his bed. He picks up their container of food.

“Hey, guys.” He says, leaning down to sprinkle some into the water.

He puts the flakes down before sitting on his bed, laying back into the pillows. There was one good thing about today, though. She talked to him! He rolls away from his fish tank and grabs one of his extra pillows, cuddling it to his chest. He grins to himself as he thinks about her. Her voice. Her hair. Her smile…

“Oh, Cas.” He mumbles, smiling as he closes his eyes, imaging her right beside him. “You’re so soft. I just wanna hug…”

His closet doors slam open as a child's voice is heard.

“Boo!”

He jumps slightly, looking over his shoulder as he lets his pillow go.

“Dani!” He snaps at his little sister who was hiding in his room.

She laughs and squeals in victory as she claps, knowing she scared him. She runs toward him, still laughing and jumps over him to lay down. He sits up, raising an eyebrow at her as all his anger from the day comes back.

“I scared you, I scared you!” She leans up so she’s close to his face. “Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Ha!”

He shakes his head but before he can speak, she lays back and throws her arms out, a smile still on her face.

“I’m Cas! Cas! Kiss me, I’m Cas!”

Embarrassed that his sister caught him daydreaming about his crush, he stands up and looks at her.

“Mom and dad told you to stay out of my room!”

“Don’t be such a crab.” She says, standing up on his mattress before jumping up and down. “Guess what. You’re taking me trick-or-treating.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Not this year, Dani.”

“Mom said you have to.” Dani says, jumping off his bed, landing on her feet beside him.

“Well, she can take you.” He says, turning to walk away.

She grabs him by his sleeve and pulls him back.

“She and dad are going to a party at Town Hall.”

“Well, you’re eight! Go by yourself.” He says, pulling his shirt from her hand and walking to his drum set.

He sits down as he grabs his sticks and immediately begins to play a beat, ignoring his sister as he closes his eyes. She sighs with a determined look on her face and walks over to him.

“No way! This is my first time! I’ll get lost! Besides, it’s a full moon outside! The weirdos are out!” Noticing he isn’t backing down, Dani walks around the drum set to wrap her arms around her older brother’s shoulders forcing him to stop playing. “Come on, Max. Couldn’t you forget about being a cool teenager just for one night? Please…Come on. We used to have so much fun together trick-or-treating. Remember? It’ll be like old times.”

He shrugs her off and shakes his head. If he was going to willingly take her, that just ruined her chances.

“No. The old days are dead.” He says, beginning to play the same beat again.

Dani puts her hands on her hips and glares at him.

“It doesn’t matter what you say. You’re taking me!”

He instantly stops and looks at her, the same glare on his own face.

“Wanna bet?”

He drops his sticks onto the Floor Tom drum and jumps up from his seat. He runs up the small flight of stairs, skipping a few steps and sits at the top, near the window seat, crossing his arms on his knees. His little sister stomps toward the stairs before putting her hands on her hips again.

“MOM!!!!” She screams loudly.

#max dennison love story #max dennison fanfiction #max dennison x original female character #max dennison x original character #max dennison imagines #max dennison imagine #max dennison x reader #hocus pocus love story #hocus pocus fanfiction #hocus pocus

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oakgreenoak · 2 years

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The Hitchhiker’s Guide to AO3

I’ve noticed lately there’s more and more people out there who come into ArchiveOfOurOwn from somewhere like Wattpad and don’t know how to work it. I’m taking it upon myself to make a sort of user guide to show people that nicely explain all the little fiddly bits. I’m sure plenty have made their own guides, but this one is mine.

I’m going to have headings for different features and screenshots, so I’ll stick it all under a readmore. I’m not going to go SUPER in depth on everything, but I intend on giving a basic rundown on stuff relevant to looking for and filtering fic. So! Onward!

Finding Your Fandom

Let’s start simple- the fandom. If you don’t have an account or don’t have any saved tags, the different categories will show up on the front page. In any case, they’ll appear when you hover over the Fandoms tab in the top right.

All Fandoms pulls up a page that shows each of these categories in their own boxes, with the five most common fandoms in each listed. For our guide, we’re going to be looking for Hitchhiker’s Guide. So, let’s start with books.

This pulls up a page which lists every single fandom in this category organised by first character. Articles like A or The are ignored, so we’ll go to H.

Uh oh! There are two tags here! Why are there two? (You may notice that there are two tags for The Hobbit, too.)

This is because Ao3 fandom tags are nested. The left tag- the one that simply says “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”- is called a metatag. The right one- the one that includes “- Douglas Adams”- is a subtag. Not every fandom has a separate metatag with subtags- they exist for a particular reason, which I’ll come back to in a moment.

For now, let’s click on the metatag.

Here we have our main fandom tag in all its glory. Congratulations, you’ve successfully navigated your way to your first fandom page! It’s from here that we can start to narrow down our search.

There’s a lot of fandoms there and that’s scary. Is there an alternative?

I’m not going to go in depth on the search function in this guide- you can apply pretty much of the information I give you later on to this page as well, and I’ll touch on it towards the end. I’m just going to direct your attention down to the Work Tags section.

As you can see, as long as you know a fandom’s name, you can find it.

Now, let’s go back to that fandom sort page.

Fandom Tags

You’ll notice that the fandom tag at the top of the page is a link. Click on that.

Holy information overload, batman!

This is a tag information page. It tells us that this is a fandom tag under the Books & Literature category, gives us a list of synonyms, a list of subtags, and a list of child tags in 3 categories - Characters, Relationships, and Additional Tags.

On a subtag’s page, in place of the subtags category, it tells us what metatag the given tag is attached to. In a fandom that only has one tag, this category is skipped altogether.

Metatags & Subtags

Remember how I said I would come back to these in a moment? That moment is now.

Some pieces of media appear in multiple formats. There are often differences in canon, continuity, or even simply appearance/descriptions between versions. This is where subtags come in- they correspond to different formats.

Conversely, a fandom’s metatag is basically a catch-all. It aggregates every fic tagged with any of the subtags, as well as being taggable in itself.

This is what the subtags look like in our Hitchhiker’s Guide example. If you, for instance, only wanted to read fanfiction based on the 1981 TV show’s continuity, you could click that tag and then click on the filter works link.

If you don’t care which continuity a fic is based on, you can filter works by the metatag. If you want to see fic from some continuities, but not others, this is also possible through the metatag- keep this in mind when we get to filtering.

Child Tags

This category holds all your fandom-specific tags. Fandom metatags and subtags may have different child tags, a tag being attached to one doesn’t necessarily mean it will appear in the other. These tags are also all listed individually; synonyms aren’t grouped together under one tag. This can make them a little difficult to navigate, especially in bigger fandoms. That said, it can be helpful for finding specific tags you may be interested in.

Child tags are grouped in 3 categories, which are also how most tags are categorised sitewide. So, we’ll use this as a segue into talking generally about...

Fic Metadata- Information and You!

Let’s navigate back to the main fandom sort page and find a fanfic. Here’s one, by yours truly:

(In light mode now, because it’s in a private window- you may have noticed I have a browser extension that shows additional stats lmao. Unlike tumblr, however, ao3 is pretty functional even without addons, though they’re worth looking into for some uses.)

There’s a lot going on here, so we’ll break it down piece by piece. Let’s start with the...