#it's not enough to touch grass go eat some instead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taeyongdoyoung · 6 months

Text

strawberries & sunshine

summary: your adorable best friend takes you to a picnic in a secluded spot but his intentions may be far from innocent... pairing: haechan x reader genre: smut, established relationship warnings: cnc/dubcon, corruption kink, innocence kink, pet names (angel, sweetie, my flower, etc.), mention of doctors/made-up sickness, manipulation, bf2l roleplay, inappropriate touching, rubbing, fingering, unprotected sex (pls dont), public sex (there is no one around but still), creampie, safeword is referenced but not used, swearing, degradation (reader is called slut), aftercare author's note: this concept has been haunting me for a while now and i finally gathered enough courage to put it into words 🥴 word count: 1.7k

Your best friend is the sweetest guy in the universe. Haechan is thoughtful, funny and always does kind gestures like bringing you flowers or your favourite chocolates without asking for anything in return. Despite being talkative himself, he always listens to you rant about what’s bothering you, checking to see if you want advice or simply emotional support.

Haechan is also very cute and pretty. Spending time with him truly energizes you and you trust him to have your best interests at heart 100%. Which is why you don’t think twice when he asks you to go on a picnic with him. You love eating and nature, but more importantly, you love being around Haechan, so you find no reason to worry.

When he first mentioned this idea, you assumed you two would go to a park inside the city. But now that the sunny day you chose for your picnic finally arrives, you are stunned that Haechan is driving you two out of the city, entering the mountain nearby.

“Woah, isn’t that a little far away?” you ask in amazement.

“Relax, angel, I’ll take you to the prettiest place,” Haechan responds.

You nod absentmindedly, not even a little bit concerned.

After what seems like forever, Haechan stops the car. He insists on carrying the picnic basket, as well as the blanket, and leads the way into the woods. You walk for around 15 minutes when you are eventually greeted by gorgeous green grass, surrounded by tall trees and birds chirping.

“It’s so lovely, Haechan! How did you find this?”

“I like exploring every once in a while,” he shrugs humbly.

You lay down the blanket, spread out the insides of the picnic basket and sit down, satisfied with the results. There are strawberries, little croissants, ham and cheese sandwiches, French macarons, some homemade kimbap and lemonade. It is so peaceful and quiet here, you really needed an escape from the big city.

You don’t talk much, too busy eating, enjoying the sweet strawberries, the bright sunshine and the lovely atmosphere.

“Oof, I’m so full,” you groan at some point.

“That’s the whole point of picnics, isn’t it?” Haechan chuckles.

“So true!” you laugh.

You two put the remaining food back into the basket and place it on the grass, making space for you to lie down on the blanket.

“To be honest, I’m still kinda hungry,” Haechan murmurs bashfully.

“What? Why didn’t you say so before we put the food away?” you exclaim in surprise.

“Not hungry for anything inside the basket.”

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“I’m not just hungry, I’m also in a lot of pain.”

“Huh? Should we go back to the city for you to see a doctor?” you are instantly concerned for your friend’s well-being.

“Oh, I’ve talked to many doctors already and they all said the same thing. There is only one cure possible for my sickness,” Haechan explains patiently.

“Well, what is it? If there’s anything I can do to help you…” you offer without thinking.

“There is, actually. But do you promise to do anything for me? You’re my best friend, right? You wouldn’t want me to be in pain?”

“Of course not, Haechan! I promise I’ll try to help you but you gotta tell me what kind of pain are you talking about?”

“How about I show you instead?” Haechan’s lips tilt in the slightest of smirk. You are confused by the change of his expression, when he grabs your hand and puts it on his heart. “First, it hurts here.” Then, he moves it so that your hand is now placed on top of his cock. “But it also hurts here.”

“Oh, Haechan,” you sympathize with him. Truly. “This is so strange but I think I might have the same sickness?”

You take hold of his hand and place it on your breasts.

“It hurts me here, as well,” you blink at him softly, then move his hand to your clothed pussy so he touches it through your floral dress. “And here.”

“My angel, I had no idea you were also suffering from this cruel sickness. Do you think maybe…we could be each other’s cure?”

“I don’t know, Haechan…Isn’t it wrong to feel this way?” you express your doubts.

“Oh no, sweetie, it’s completely normal, at least that’s what the doctors said. If we help each other, the pain will disappear.”

“Well, then I guess it’s for the best,” you concede. “The hurt is becoming quite uncomfortable.”

“Same here, my flower. I think we should hurry if we want to cure ourselves of this terrible illness.”

Haechan wastes no more time trying to convince you and climbs on top of you, pressing you down. He spreads your legs apart with one hand, touching and brutally rubbing you through your panties.

“Hyuck, n-no, this isn’t right,” you cry out and try to push him away.

“Shh, my sweet, I’m just trying to cure you first. Don’t you want it?”

“N-no, I’m not sure anymore, please stop,” you whine helplessly but he is too strong to fight off.

“It’ll be over before you know it, just stop struggling, my dear,” Haechan assures you and continues to attack your pussy with his hand. Eventually, he tears your panties apart, sticking his long fingers inside of you.

“P-please, you don’t ha-have to do this,” you try your best to resist but your damn pussy betrays you, squelching noises revealing your juices all for your best friend to see and hear. You would be embarrassed if you aren’t so turned on right now. You come around his fingers so quickly and powerfully that you are unable to think clearly any longer.

“You can help me now, no? I healed you, so now it’s your turn to give me the cure,” Haechan tries to talk you into this.

“I don’t know…” you shake your head. “Maybe there’s another way.”

“There isn’t. Trust me, okay?” Haechan insists. “You promised…”

His reminder, paired with his soft yet cruel smile is more than enough to convince you. But you say nothing as he unbuckles his belt, lowers his boxers and enters you in one swift movement.

“N-no, it h-hurts, Hyuck, p-please,” you whimper around him, as he goes deeper than you could ever imagine, stretching you out to your absolute limits.

“Take it, you slut, going alone into the woods with a guy, acting as if you had no idea what’s gonna happen to you,” Haechan’s words are so unkind, so unlike the sweet guy you’re used to seeing.

“I didn’t know, I swear,” you insist, pushing against his chest with your tiny hands.

“Shut the fuck up,” he laughs meanly, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“N-no, this is wrong, H-hyuck,” you sniffle pitifully. “We’re best friends, we shouldn’t do things like that.”

“Well, best friends ought to help each other no matter what. So, take it like the good little slut you are and cure me of this sickness you caused,” Haechan keeps fucking into you, making you feel so full and satiated.

“Am not a slut,” you argue.

“Oh yeah? Then, why didn’t you wear a fucking bra, huh?” Haechan asks, letting go of your wrists and sliding his hand under your dress, grabbing your tits roughly.

“F-for you,” you admit shamelessly. “Wanna be your good girl, Hyuck.”

“Too bad, because I wanna turn my good girl into a slut,” he snickers at you, spilling his seed inside of your pussy. You come around him without thinking and are foolish enough to think he’s done with you. Taking his cock out and using his fingers to fuck the cum threatening to spill out back into your pussy. You are too exhausted to fight back but you do your best anyway.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Making sure the cure is permanent,” Haechan explains calmly as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Then, without bothering to ask, he flips you around so that you are on your knees, face down, and slips back inside of you smoothly.

“N-no, that’s enough!” you scream in frustration.

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Haechan grunts loudly.

“Nngh, aren’t we cured already?”

“What are you talking about? The disease is only spreading further,” Haechan laughs maniacally at this point.

“Haechan, please, stop, I can’t…” you cry and plead and whimper, again and again.

“You know what to say if you really want me to stop,” Haechan reminds you. But when you say nothing, he continues using your body, right there in the middle of the woods, too far away from society, where no one could possibly hear you asking for help, where you are left entirely at your best friend’s mercy.

Eventually, he exhausts himself after cumming too many times, inside of you, on your back, on your belly, and all over the poor blanket. Haechan reaches his hand out to get water from the picnic basket, thoughtfully giving it to you. After you are both done drinking, he does his best to clean you up and make sure you are...well, alive. Taking a deep breath, he lies down next to you, enveloping you in a warm and soft hug.

“Was that too much?” he wants to know and brushes a piece of hair behind your ear gently. You melt under his touch, just like always.

There he is. Your sunshine boyfriend is back.

“No, it was perfect. So much better than what we talked about previously,” you reply honestly.

“I wasn’t too mean to my baby, was I?” Haechan needs to make sure.

“Just the right amount of mean,” you laugh. “Did I play the innocent angel part well enough?”

“Too well,” Haechan praises your acting skills. “Maybe because you were my innocent best friend back when we first met.”

“And look where that got me,” you sigh. “Miles away from home, overflowing with cum, no one to save me. Such a tragic fate.”

“Oh, come on, don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Haechan rolls his eyes.

You lean in to kiss him softly.

“Loved every minute,” you admit. Then, you grab his chin firmly. “But next time, I’ll be the one corrupting you.”

The End

#nct #haechan #nct smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #nct imagines #haechan imagines #writing

596 notes · View notes

dreamerinthemoonlight · 6 months

Text

Spring Date HCS (Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo)

I always love it when spring finally comes around. Even though the grass where I live is almost perpetually green (like wtf??!! How can it be freaking Christmas and some of the grass is green?!!!), I love seeing the trees start to bud out. And the sun. Having the sun out more is nice too

Under the cuts, spring dates with Kaeya, Diluc, and Albedo

GN reader

cw: slight mention of after hours fun. Not much because that’s a different set off head canons entirely, but it’s there

Kaeya

His first suggestion was to go drinking

Of course the answer was no, not happening

So instead you’re walking around on the Mondstadt version of a mall date

Kaeya seems like he’s the type who looooves PDA, so he’s always holding your hand

Or maybe you’re holding his hand because he’s definitely the type to tease you with little touches that are designed to turn the date very R18 by the end of the day

To be fair, he really doesn’t have to try that hard

He’s hot and charming and he uses it to full effect

In the evening you two climb up venti’s statue (Kaeya is a charmer and will happily go the extra mile. Probably made you a pretty staircase else style to get up there too hehe)

You sit and he pulls you closer so that your head rests against his chest

And the two of you want the sunset from the best seats in city

Diluc

Have you seen this man’s voice lines?

The guy is sweet as hell (10/10 would date)

He picked you up, right on time and had roses waiting. Really nice ones because he can definitely afford them

Instead of staying in the city, you two went out on horse back

Brought a picnic lunch

But most of the time is spent riding and talking. Or riding and not talking.

The both of you are just happy to have a day off with no real itinerary

Just let the wind lead

So around lunch time you guys find a nice spot-- preferably slime free, but Diluc doesn’t have any problems clearing a spot for you if the spot is nice enough’

You eat lunch and continue just handing out

Really date day is the day that both of you can just be you

You watch the sunset while you’re out

And when you get back into the city he walks you to your door, gives you a goodbye kiss that might turn into more but shhh

Albedo

Last but not least

Our favorite Mondstadt nerd

It’s not on Dragonspine

You put your foot down on that one. No freezing on a spring date

You also handed off Klee to Kaeya archons save us all so the two of you have time alone

I’d say it’s a work date, because his work is basically being as curious as possible, but really, his focus is on you

He can’t stop being curious

But he’ll spend the entire time studying you, figuring out what makes you laugh and smile and then work on doing those things

He seems like the kind who remembers all of the small stuff

If you told him your favorite flower, that’s what he brings you when he picks you up or greets you at the foot of Dragonspine

After that you go exploring

Not unlike with Diluc, but with Albedo your wandering has a distinct purpose

For some reason the desire to know is just there when you’re around Albedo

Not that you’ll complain, not when his attention is on you

If your hair is in your face, he’ll tuck it behind your ear, letting his fingers linger on the edge, feeling the skin only he gets to feel and feeling a certain amount of satisfaction that your his

Even if he doesn’t talk much, he listens. He’ll respond when need be, but he really does love to listen

While you’re out, you eat a picnic lunch he packed and then continue walking around

Instead of taking you home that night, he brings you up to his cave in Dragonspine

It wouldn’t be the first night you’ve spent there and it beats the noise of Mondstadt city in the spring

And there’s no one to hear if you decide the two of you want to do some more intimate experimentation

133 notes · View notes

avonne-writes · 2 months

Note

[ GIFT ] sender gives receiver a present (specify)

Aw I have to request this cause Bucky gift giving is the sweetest thing ever. Happy birthday week ☀️

Thank you so much! ❤️ I decided to write this in my friends with benefits au 🥰

Gale licks the ice cream off his spoon serenely as Bucky fidgets opposite him, sideways in his seat. Bucky's eyes track the motion, so Gale makes sure to drag it out and show how much he enjoys it. Not a hard feat to pull off when one likes it as much as he does. The taste, the thick liquid on his tongue, the spoon pressing down... Bucky's attention is a bonus. It’s nice to have it, especially now that Gale knows he can touch those thick thighs if he plays his cards right.

Bucky drums his fingers on his own forearm, then shifts again. Gale scoops up another spoonful and puts it in his mouth. He draws it out, his eyes on Bucky the whole time. He wonders if Bucky realizes that Gale had him figured out the moment he showed up with his jacket draped over his arm and refused to leave it at Gale’s place even though it's hot and sunny outside.

There’s something in that jacket he’s trying to hide. When he started his telltale restless shifting, Gale’s suspicion became certainty. It’s a gift, and Bucky's thrumming with excitement as he waits for the perfect moment to "surprise" Gale with it. God help him, Gale finds it endlessly endearing. He doesn’t want it to stop. Like good sex, he wants to enjoy it as long as possible even if it means denying himself the climax a little longer.

"Need some help with that?" Bucky jerks his chin towards Gale's melting dessert.

Gale debates his options, but his longing to act like Bucky's boyfriend wins over his desire to drag this out as long as possible. He takes a spoonful of ice cream and holds it out, heart fluttering when Bucky barely falters before leaning forward and letting Gale feed it to him. Thank God that Bucky had a cone instead of a cup, leaving them with only one spoon and just enough willingness to go with the excuse.

"You can leave it if you don’t wanna eat the whole thing." Bucky says, squirming in anticipation again.

Gale scoops more liquid ice cream into his mouth. Heat pools in his stomach when he thinks about the fact that he’s sucking on the spoon that has just been in Bucky's mouth. "What's the rush, you have a date or something?"

"I wish." Bucky sighs wistfully, and, well, that does sting. "I'm just... uh, bored."

It's painful enough that Gale’s appetite, for ice cream or anything else, vanishes as if it never existed. He puts down the spoon and pushes his cup away, then moves to stand. "Didn't they teach you how to sit still in first grade?"

"They gave up on the first day."

Bucky lets their elbows brush together as they start walking towards the exit. He grins wide and bright, and all of Gale's disappointment succumbs to the butterflies in his stomach that set off at the sight. As they leave the café and step into the bright summer sunshine that lights up the green grass of the park, Bucky reaches into the jacket he keeps carrying around and pulls something out.

"Got you something to celebrate your paper."

Gale takes it and turns it around in his hands. It's a mug. Dark as the night sky, a spaceship doodle and a dorky text breaking it up with white lines. 'Forget princess, I want to be an astrophysicist'.

It doesn't even make sense why Bucky wanted to give it to him now and not in the café, but Gale doesn’t mention that. He just runs his thumb over the cool ceramic and tries not to smile like he’s in love. Wouldn’t do them any good if he did. "Thanks."

Bucky throws his arm around Gale's shoulders. "You should give me a best friend of the year award."

I would if I didn’t know that you’ll break my heart, Gale thinks, but he just keeps on walking forward. "Don’t count on it." He says, and Bucky laughs.

#buck x bucky #mota #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #anon #my writing #fwb au #yes this is still a birthday prompt i'm sorry i'm slow #2 more to go

63 notes · View notes

buckyshoneybunny · 1 month

Text

Stings & Kisses

Summary- A Day of yard work takes a painful toll.

W.C.- 894

Warnings- Cursing, fluff, Bucky being the best boyfriend, all most panic attack.

A/N- So I got fucking stung by hornets yesterday trying to do a good thing and weed eat for my grandmother since her daughter was slacking and not doing it. Was home alone and on the verge of a panic attack, had to call my dad to figure out what to fucking do. So I decided to write a drabble of Bucky taking care of reader who gets stung. This is probably trash but I hope you guys like it!!

You and Bucky had decided to spend the last few weeks of summer break with Sam, Sarah, and the boys. It turned out to be the best part of yours and Bucky’s summer. Hot days out at the dock, shopping trips, waterpark adventures and so much more.

You were having the time of your life.

Today was one of the rare days it wasn’t blistering hot. Sarah had decided to take the boys school shopping, you declined her offer of tagging along. Instead, you wanted to tackle the yard, something that had gotten pushed to the side in yalls days of fun.

After an hour of trying and failing to restring the Weed Eater, choosing to just have Bucky do it, and an extra couple of hours waiting for the batteries you may or may not have forgotten to plug in that morning, to charge. Just after lunch you were finally all set to head out to work.

Headphones connected, phone and Weed Eater in hand, you leave Bucky and Sam to tackle putting together the two new desks that AJ and Cass insisted they needed. After AJ ‘accidently’ broke it. How do you accidently break a desk? You snickered as you listened to AJ’s lame excuse.

You’re about half way through, everything was going smoothly. You were currently tackling a spot under a low hanging tree, there had been tall grass and brush. That was when you felt it.

Stinging, searing pain in your right ass cheek. You didn’t have to see them to know what it was. A split-second after the first sting you drop the Weed Eater and haul ass up to the house. As you run you feel more stings, your whole body feels like it’s burning.

Once you get a good distance away, you pause, already shaking and panicking. You look down to see one still on your shirt, you yelp and smack it away. You run to the porch, throwing your phone, headphones, and wallet, and strip off your shirt and shorts, neighbors be damned. You were thick enough on the thighs that you could sometimes wear Bucky’s boxers. Left in his boxers and a sports bra you run inside.

Tears burn your eyes and you gasp and cough, driving yourself to a panic attack. Bucky looks up when the door opens, one look at you and he drops whatever he’s holding. You start to pace the living room, the pain almost unbearable.

“Y/N? Doll, you okay?” He frantically asks as he walks to you.

You shake your head, still gasping for breath you walk around him, trying to ‘walk off’ the pain. Sam furrows his eyebrows and studies you; he curses when he realizes what’s going on.

Bucky reaches for your left elbow trying to stop you.

“Bucky no! She got-” You yelp when he touches one of the stings. “Stung right there,” Sam finishes on a grumble.

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Shit baby I need you to calm down, you’re gonna drive yourself to a panic attack if you don’t stop.” He gently cups your face.

“It h-urts," you cry.

“I know, baby I know. I need you to calm down and tell me what stung you.”

“I don’t k-now, I w-was all yellow I think.”

While Bucky works on calming you down Sam looks out the back door.

“Hornets!” Sam yells.

“What?” Bucky calls out.

“She got stung by hornets,” he says again. Sam makes a paste out of baking soda and water to put on the stings to help draw out the poison.

Once Bucky gets you calm, albeit you're still shaking and tears in your eyes. He gives you some Benadryl and takes the paste from Sam. He gently puts the paste on and then a band-aid over top to help the paste stay.

“Shit doll, you got stung at least 10 times.” He mumbles, tongue between his teeth as he works

“Those fuckers got me in the ass first,” you grumble and pout. Bucky snorts and you flick his nose. “That’s not funny,” you say despite the smile that breaks through.

“Have you ever been stung by hornets before, doll?” He’s on his knees in front of you, having just finished taking care of all the stings, his hands hold your hips. You shake your head.

“If you have trouble breathing or swallowing, or feel like you’re swelling up, tell me immediately, okay?” He has that concerned crease in between his eyebrows. You nod and take a deep shaky breath.

“You okay?” He asks softly and rubs your hips with his thumbs.

“Yeah,” you sigh and wipe your face.

“You need anything?”

“Some Chick-fil-a, kisses, and cuddles.”

He grins and with a ‘yes my love’ he leaves to fetch your order. Sam goes back to putting the last desk back together while you head to the guest room you and Bucky had been staying in. You kick your shoes off and very carefully crawl under the covers. You put The Rookie on, rewatching a couple of episodes so you don’t watch anything new without Bucky.

When Bucky gets back, he cuddles and kisses you, you both eat and watch your show. It takes you a good hour after it happened to stop shaking. Later that night you shower and Bucky puts some ointment on them with more band-aids and kisses them all better.

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #honeybunnywrites #marvel #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader

48 notes · View notes

mosylufanfic · 8 months

Text

A Mere Trifle

My first contribution to Rebelcaptain Fluffbruary! The prompt I went with was "dessert."

A Mere Trifle

Bodhi opened the fridge. "Oooooh," he said in delight. His roommate made sweets and desserts to relax, and Bodhi was usually the beneficiary.

"Don't you fucking touch the fucking trifle!" Jyn yelled from another room.

"Why not?" he yelled back, but set the bowl of trifle back where he'd found it.

"Because I'm saving it for poker night, you glutton."

Bodhi raised his brows at nothing. Poker night was at theirs tomorrow night, and while most everyone brought food, it was more along the lines of grocery-store chips and dip. Not a dessert of multiple layers and steps and approximately thirty thousand calories.

He grabbed the leftover Chinese instead, gave it a sniff, and concluded it probably wasn't going to kill him. Eating beef and broccoli out of the container, he went to the other room where Jyn scowled at the computer screen full of her photos that she was working on. "Not even a nibble?" he asked pitifully.

"Nope."

He licked sauce off his thumb. "It's got all berries and whipped cream and custard. You seriously expect me to resist?"

"Yes, I do, or I'll shave your head in your sleep."

Bodhi put a protective hand over his ponytail. "You're a cruel woman, Jyn Erso."

She bit her thumbnail, narrowing her eyes at two virtually identical images of an empty lot. She twiddled a setting and suddenly the tiny yellow flowers blooming amongst the lanky dried grass burst into focus. "You've known that for years," she said.

Poker night started around seven, or whenever enough people straggled in to get a decent game going. Bodhi expected the trifle to come out as they set up the table and pulled mismatched chairs in from all over the house. But only the two party subs that Jyn had picked up on her way home from work made an appearance.

"It's got to stay chilled," Jyn claimed when he asked about it.

"Uh . . . huh," he said, but had to go answer the door before he could needle the truth out of her.

It was Melshi, who came armed with various chips. "You ready to lose?" he crowed, setting a bag of tortilla chips next to the subs.

"No, but you'd better be," Bodhi told him.

"Big talk. Beers in the fridge?" Melshi asked.

"Yup."

He opened the door, grabbed a beer off the door, and paused. "Holy shit, Jyn, did you make that?"

Jyn was across the room in a split second, smacking his hand. "Don't touch!"

"Why not?" he whined, cradling his hand.

"Cos I said so." She slapped the door closed. "Go stuff your face with a sandwich. Veggie's on the left side."

Melshi sighed heavily and went to pile his slice of veggie sub high with peppers and mayo.

Leia and her brother came in next, then Kay, then Luke's truck-driver friend, Han, and his large, hairy roommate, Chewie, and then Shara and Kes from down the hall. About half of them mentioned the trifle, and every time, Jyn refused to let them get it out.

It didn't escape Bodhi's notice that Jyn's head snapped around every time the door opened. It also didn't escape his notice that Cassian Andor, who worked at the paper where Jyn sometimes picked up photo gigs, wasn't there yet.

People skipped poker night for work, holidays, hot dates, classes, and exhaustion. Usually they put it in the group text. Bodhi checked his phone.

"Nobody's canceled," Jyn said without looking at her own.

"Right," Bodhi said, grinning to himself, and arranged his bingo chips. "Okay, who won the last game at Han and Chewie's?"

"Me," Kes said, raising his hand, and taking the deck to deal.

Two rounds in, Jyn was looking very downcast, but she still snarled like a Doberman whenever anybody went near the fridge.

"We ever gonna get some of that dessert?" Han whispered to Bodhi.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Bodhi whispered back.

The doorknob rattled, and Jyn got half out of her chair before the door opened. She sat back down as Cassian came in. "Hey," he said, brushing snow out of his hair.

"Hey," Jyn said casually. "Thought you weren't going to make it."

"Sorry," he said, shrugging out of his coat. "I kept thinking I was almost done with the article and then I wasn't. How much has Melshi lost?"

Melshi flipped him off.

"Not enough yet," Jyn said, and got Melshi's finger next. "Did you get anything to eat?"

"No, and I'm dying. Tell me there's something left."

She waved a hand at the subs, mostly decimated on the counter. He put one of each kind on his plate and added mustard, then piled the rest of his plate high with potato chips and the baby carrots that Luke had brought.

"Should be beers in the fridge," she added. "Oh, and I forgot about a dessert I left in there, can you get it out?"

"Ohhh!"

"So he gets some of that first?"

"I see how it is, Erso!"

"That's who it was for?"

"Well well well!"

Jyn scowled. "Okay, the lot of you can go fuck yourselves."

"What?" Cassian asked, popping his head up over the fridge door and looking at all of them quizzically.

"Nothing," Jyn said. "Everybody here is a fucking moron, that's all. You find it?"

"With all the whipped cream? Wow," he said, pulling it out. "This looks amazing, Jyn. Is this the thing you were telling me about last week? Whatsits. Trifle?"

"Oh, yeah, it is," Jyn said as if it was a massive coincidence.

He looked at her for a moment, a little smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "I can't believe it survived this long with these animals."

Melshi opened his mouth, then yelped as if a Doc Marten had met his shin with force.

"Well, like I said, I forgot about it," Jyn said.

Bodhi looked across the table at her and mouthed, You're so full of shit. She ignored him, a blush spreading up her face.

Cassian sat down next to her, juggling his plate of sandwiches and a serving of trifle in a bowl. "This is really good," he said with his mouth full. "I mean, really. Wow." He nudged Luke. "Get some of this, it's incredible."

"Thanks," Jyn said, shrugging, dealing the next hand. "It was nothing."

FINIS

#Jyn Erso #Cassian Andor #rebelcaptain #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #Modern AU #fluffbruary #star wars

65 notes · View notes

etherathena · 4 months

Text

100 things to do instead of eating

look in the mirror

play an instrument

scroll on tumblr, twitter, tiktok, insta etc

add to ur th1nsp0 pinterest board

look at photos of megan fox (shes so beautiful)

look at photos of adriana lima (shes also so beautiful)

make your bed

journal

watch mukbangs of WAY too much food (dont make yourself more hungry!)

enjoy the sick hungry feeling

eat gum

drink a lot of water

girl blog / shitpost

read fanfic lol

take a shower

manifest

go for a walk

work out

stretch

watch a movie

play a videogame

make yourself in the sims but skinny

learn a kpop dance

do chores

watch YouTube

do a face mask

think about why you want to lose weight

think about how gross you will look and feel after eating

delete emails

talk to your skinny friend

listen to a new song

online shop

sleep

do as many push ups as you can

go to the gym

drink 0 cal drinks (coke zero, etc)

eat ice

0-5cal jelly

do makeup

do skincare

walk your dog

play with your cats

read a book

watch a show

talk to your family

facetime someone

make a playlist

manifest

make a vision board

touch some grass

try to lick your elbow

try to tie a knot with a shoelace in your mouth

buy a piercing gun from temu and pierce your ears

do 5 star jumps

try the le sserafim workout (not for the weak 🙏🏻)

stan txt

write self insert fanfiction

read old diaries

clean your room

clean your car

stalk someone on facebook

create a wishlist

try a new hairstyle

learn a language

do a puzzle

plan your week/month/year

look at air b&bs and flights and pretend you have enough money to go on a trip somewhere

get a job

go to school

start a bullet journal

paint

draw

write a story

write a letter to your future self

try to travel back in time

try reality shifting

meditate

clean out your camera roll

physically clean your phone (its probably gross)

change your passwords

"take me to a useless website"

watch cartoons

paint your nails

dye your hair

do a hair mask

pray

pluck your eyebrows

shave your legs

buy yourself flowers

clean your makeup brushes

ride a bike

go for a swim

go to the beach

learn a magic trick

play a card game

play a board game

invent a new language

mew

do yoga

think about how your life will be when you're skinny

still hungry?

do it all again.

#athena rambles #wonyoungism #ed tmblr #tw ed sheeran #tw ed but not sheeran #tw ana bløg #an@rexi@#affirm and persist #manifestation #loa tumblr #change your life

19 notes · View notes

artyandink · 8 months

Text

we could be more | dean winchester | 4

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DRIVER’S LICENSE - OLIVIA RODRIGO

“Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid.” Dean groaned as he drove the car.

”Why?” Sam asked.

”Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave- there-there was no body left after the fire.”

“She has a headstone.”

“Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on.”

“It’s not about that.”

”Enlighten me then, Sam.”

“It's not about a body, or, or, a casket. It's about her memory, okay?”

“Mhmm.”

”And after Dad it ju-just feels like the right thing to do.”

“It's irrational, is what it is.”

”Look, man. No one asked you to come.”

”Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that thing down.”

”That's a good idea, you should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you there tomorrow.”

”How about we ask what Beanie wants to do?” Dean turned slightly. “Whatcha wanna do?”

”Go to the graveyard.” I replied. “Believe it or not, my family’s tombstone is nearby. The night my family died was spent in Lawrence.”

“Well, then, you can pay your respects there.” Sam agreed.

We reached the graveyard, and I instantly started searching for our family plot. As soon as I found it, I sat at my dad’s grave, staring at the inscription of his name.

“Hey, dad.” I whispered. “It’s been 7 years since I last saw you, and if I’m being honest, it’s eating me alive cause I need you with me. I found your book and I saw your notes on Sam and Dean, so I found them and they’re protecting me from the dreamwalker cause the devil came after me, but only took away my powers. It feels like I’ve let you down.” My voice started breaking uncontrollably. “You told me to take care of my family, but there’s no one left to protect, so what am I here for?” I felt a tear drop onto my Panic!At the Disco t-shirt. “Dean and Sam have their own problems to deal with, b-but they insist that I don’t intrude. It’s… c-confusing.” I paused. “And there’s another thing. Everyone expects me t-to live up to either yours or mom’s name, but it’s so hard to do. I doubt I can-”

”Beanie!” I heard, so I left some flowers at the grave and went over to Dean.

“What?”

“Does this mean anything to you?” He pointed to the ground. There was a ring of dead grass surrounding a tombstone, along with a wreath of dead flowers. I wiped a tear from my eye, then nodded.

“It’s an odd ring of dead grass around a grave, it’s usually a sign of a troubled spirit or unholy ground.”

“You hear that, Sam?”

“Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide.” Sam suggested, so I bent down and touched the soil, bringing it up to my face.

“Nope.” I shook my head. “If pesticide was still here, soil wouldn’t be dry. Excesses of it make the soil wet for a few hours after.”

“Okay, so what are you thinking?”

“Unholy ground.”

“Un-“ Sam stopped, looking dumbfounded.

“What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground.” Dean explained. “Remember the-the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?”

“Yeah, b-“

”Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the-the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough.” Dean grimaced at Sam’s nod. “Well, don’t get too excited, you might pull something.”

“It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?”

“So?”

“So… are you sure this is about a hunt and not anything else?”

“What else would it be about?”

“Boys.” I sighed, going and getting a newspaper from a nearby stand.

“You believe what you want, Sam, but -- I let you drag my butt out here, the least we could do is check this out.”

“Yeah. Fine.” Sam grumbled.

“Her dad works as a professor at the university here.” I informed, looking up.

“Dr. Mason?” Dean knocked on the door in the university, and Dr Mason opened it.

“Yes?” He replied.

“I'm Sam. This is Dean, and this is Ivy.” Sam introduced. “We were friends of Angela's. We... we wanted to offer our condolences.”

“Please, come in.” We entered, and while Dean went to the shelves, Sam and I sat down.

“She was beautiful.” Sam smiled, looking at a photo.

“She was.” Dr Mason nodded sadly. I got up, going to the door.

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” I excused, then shut the door behind me. I looked around at the bustling students, and I gulped, remembering my brief time at college before I dropped out.

“You look lost.” I turned to see a dude who seemed to be six foot tall, making me feel small since I was 5’ 8”. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that could probably blind me. He was dressed smartly, and glasses framed his eyes, giving him a geeky look. “Are you a student?”

“God, no.” I chuckled. “I’m here visiting Dr Mason with my brothers. We were friends with Angela.” I held out my hand. “I’m Lily Carter.”

“Nate, but the students call me Mr Coleman.” He shook my hand. “I’m sorry about Angela.”

“So am I.” I smiled. “It’s hard, but I’m dealing.”

“Your brothers are helping, huh?”

“More than I think they are.” I nodded. “They’re going through things too, so they need my help as well.”

“Sounds like a good thing.” He grinned, then looked like he was hesitant for something. “C-Can I get your number?”

“Oh, sure.” I pulled out my phone and so did he, and I read out my number. When we were done, his cheeks were red, a goofy smile on his face.

“Do you think we can-“

“Beanie?” Dean and Sam came out from the office, and found me. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” I asked.

“Course I will.” He grinned. “It was great meeting you, Lily Carter.”

“And you, Nate Coleman.” I replied, then walked off with the boys.

“I never knew ‘a breath of fresh air’ meant ‘find a new man’.” Dean teased.

“Dean, it wasn’t like that-“

“Don’t think that we didn’t see you staring at that dude like he was a cup of coffee.” Sam chuckled. “Just couldn’t resist him.”

“I got his number, but-“

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about Will.” Dean snorted.

“Yeah, Will.” Sam laughed. “Speaking of Will, have you two been in contact since we left?”

“Nope.” I replied. “Just another relationship on the go.”

“We’ve had our fair share.” They both nudged me.

“Speaking of which, where are we staying for tonight?” Dean asked.

“I’ve got a safe house here.” I offered.

“How many safe houses do you have?”

I held up a set of keys.

“Damn.”

The moment we had gotten into the Impala, Dean had been blabbing on about how we ‘found something’. Sam was forever sceptical, and I was trying to find a quiet moment so I could text Nate.

“I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet.” Dean repeated as we closed the house door.

“Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing.” Sam groaned.

“Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground.”

”There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father.”

“Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?”

“You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore.”

“So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?”

“I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is about Mom’s grave.”

“Oh, he just went there.” I whispered, breathing out.

Dean scoffed. “That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad.” Sam persisted.

“I’m not taking this-“ They were interrupted by my keys jingling, and I put my leather jacket on, ignoring their faces as I fixed my crop top.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Thanks for realising that I’m still here.” I smiled falsely. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m heading to the bar, alone, to get a drink. You two have a copy of the keys if you want to do something similar.” I went out of the door, walking to the bar.

I was busy drinking a whiskey at the bar, merely cause I was in the mood for something fancier than beer.

“You alright, sweetheart?” The bartender asked, prepping a drink.

“Yeah, I’m just getting away from my brothers. They might be wrestling at this point.” I replied with a scoff.

“I used to do that with my brothers. My mom said it should be professional.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I have something for you.” He gave me a Cosmopolitan, and I frowned.

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“But the gentleman across the bar did. Paid for it an’ all.” He pointed to…

“Nate.” I half exhaled, half laughed as he walked up to me, sitting down on the bar stool beside me.

“Lily.” Nate grinned. “I never thought I’d see you again, not after your… brothers… whisked you away.”

“Why the emphasis?” I asked, sipping the Cosmo.

“Because I never knew that Lily Carter could be the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.”

I choked on my drink. “You know?”

“A lot of hunters know who those two are.” He nodded. “So your name isn’t really Lily Carter, is it?”

“Nope.” I chuckled. “Ivonne Rainer.”

“Michael Rainer’s daughter?”

“You bet.” I smirked, then took out his ID, which I’d nifted from his pocket. “And your name isn’t Nate Coleman, is it, Xavier?”

“You got me.” He grinned. “I’m actually Xavier Jackson.”

“I never thought I’d see a hunter work undercover as a school teacher.”

“I joined the day after Angela’s death.” Xavier explained. “Something was up, cause I’d seen her grave. I’ve never seen a more obvious mark of-“

“-unholy ground.” We finished together, then started laughing. I drank my Cosmo to stop laughing, but then he seemed hesitant to say something.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“The first time I saw you with Sam and Dean, I thought you and Dean were dating or you liked each other, and I was scared to text you-“

I started laughing again, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. “No way, Dean and I are friends! He just calls me Beanie cause I wore one the first time we met.”

”Phew.” He pretended to wipe off sweat from his forehead, adjusting his glasses. “I-I thought I had some competition, to say the least.”

“There’s nothing in your way, trust me.” I grinned.

I woke up, squinting my eyes at the bright light of the sun and sighing. I giggled when an arm wrapped around my waist, somebody peppering kisses along my shoulder.

“Last night was amazing.” Xavier whispered in my ear, and I turned around to face him.

“Last night was a blur.” I joked. “Can you remind me what happened?”

“Are you-“

“I’m kidding!” I laughed, cupping his cheek and rubbing my thumb against it softly. “Yeah, last night was… I don’t have words.”

“Your phone is ringing, though.” He whispered, and I pulled the sheets over me as I reached over, seeing the caller ID.

Sam.

“Oh, damn.” I cursed, then picked it up. “Hey, Sam?”

‘Ivy, thank god. You didn’t come home last night, where are you?’

“You know Nate, right? I met him at the bar, but I was a bit drunk and he took me to his house since it was nearer and neither of us brought cars.”

‘You could’ve called either me or Dean.’

“And risk either of you ranting about how dumb the other person is? Hell no.”

‘True- Dean, you’ll get your chance to talk- hey!’

‘Text me the address, Beanie, I’ll be there in five.’

“Fine.” I cut the call, texted Dean the address, then grabbed my clothes and quickly slipped into them.

“Call me later, yeah?” Xavier asked while putting his shirt on. The moment it went on, I never could’ve guessed he was jacked.

“Of course I will.” I kissed his cheek then his lips, but he kept me there by holding my hips. I pulled back, grinning. “Dean’s gonna give you the dad talk if he finds us kissing, even if he’s not my dad.”

“Right.” He combed his hair while I reapplied my lip gloss, picking up my keys and putting on my jacket.

“By the way,” I breathed, “you have the hottest sleeper build ever.”

“Glad to know.” He smiled, kissing my hand just as the roar of the Impala came from the other side of the door. I opened the door, waving and getting into shotgun, turning to Dean.

“No call.” He lectured. “No text, no warning that you might not be back-“

“Chill, Dean.” I sighed.

“And even after that, there’s no sign of a hangover. In fact, you’re weirdly glowing…” He paused, his head whipping round. “You got laid.”

“I, uh…” He pulled my collar down then let out a loud laugh, returning my collar to where it was. “You did! And by geek guy as well!”

“His name is Xavier.”

“I thought it was Nate.”

“He’s undercover investigating Angela.”

”We’re on a hunt and you got yourself laid.”

“Don’t think I don’t know about Cassie.”

The comment made him pause. “No comment. Was he good?”

“WHAT?!”

”It’s a genuine question! Did he treat you right?”

“He was great.”

“Then I have no problem.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You deserve to be happy, Beanie. My job is to protect you.”

We ended up at Angela’s roommate, Lindsey’s, apartment. Dean unlocked it, and we walked in, and he picked up a picture, but there was a reflection.

Of Lindsey.

“Who the hell are you?” She confronted before she shut the door, seemingly locking it.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!” Dean called.

“I’m calling 911!”

“Hear me out!” I spoke up. “I’m here with Angela’s cousin. Alan? Alan Stanwick? We’re here to pick up Angela’s stuff because her dad sent us.”

She opened the door slightly. “He never told me you were coming.”

“We have the keys to your house, sweetheart.” I smiled, holding up the keys.

“Who are you?”

“Naomi Wickham.” I lied. “Alan is my… boyfriend.”

She came back out, coming face to face with us. She sat down on the sofa, and started crying, so we sat down and handed her a Kleenex tissue.

“So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see.” Dean- I mean Alan- said. “Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?”

”She was great.” She sobbed. “She was so, so…”

“Great?”

“Yeah.” She nodded before breaking down again. In an attempt to play the kind girlfriend, I gave her a tissue.

“Here you go.” I soothed. “You two must have been really close, huh?”

”We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt.”

“Who?” Dean asked.

“Angela’s boyfriend.”

“Right.” I nodded. “What about him?”

“He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?” Lindsey wailed, taking another tissue.

“That’s terrible.”

“He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days.”

”Messed up how?” Dean asked.

“He kept on saying that he saw her everywhere.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s normal, with everything he was going through.”

“No, he said that he SAW her. As in, an acid trip or something.”

“Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?” Dean persisted.

“What? No, of course not, why do you ask?” She looked confused, so I had to step in.

“Just checking, Lindsey. Where did Matt live?”

We opened the door to my safe house, hearing something weird going on with the television. Sam threw down the remote, acting as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey.” He coughed.

“Hey.” Dean grimaced.

“Awkward.” I whistled. “Let’s not have me come home to that again, eh?”

”Where in the hell were you?” Sam asked, deflecting.

“Working my imaginary case.” Dean sniped.

“Yeah? And?”

“Well, you were right, I didn't find much. Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings.”

“Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here.”

“Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think.”

“Hey, maybe we should check out the overall situation.” I interrupted. “We went to Matt’s apartment and it’s the same thing as the cemetery. Dead plants, hell, even dead goldfish.”

“So, unholy ground?” Sam asked.

“Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela.” Dean picked up a pink book, showing it to us. “I have been reading this, though.”

“You stole the girl's diary?”

“Yeah, and if anything, she’s a little too nice.” I remembered a book from Dr Mason’s room, so I pulled out every language book I had in my satchel.

”Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Dean turned to me. “What’s going on, Beanie?”

“Did you see a book with strange symbols in Dr Mason’s room?” I asked, flipping the book.

“Yeah, I showed him it.”

“I’m gonna need at least a few samples.”

“I didn't realise the college employed grief counsellors.” We were at the house of a guy named Neil, who seemed to be close friends with Angela.

“Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing.” Dean nodded.

“Well, I think I’m ok, thanks.” Neil refused.

“You heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I smiled. “Grief can make people do crazy things.”

”Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't 'cause of grief.”

“No? Then why?”

“It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it.” He said it almost bitterly, piquing my interest.

”How, Neil?”

“Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl.” Neil explained. “She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay.”

We left the house, a little more assured than last time.

“Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense.” Dean shrugged. “I mean, hell hath no fury...”

“So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?” Sam asked as we got into the car. I was in the driver’s this time to give Dean a break.

“Well, there's one way to be sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Burn the bones.”

“Are you high?” I scoffed. “By ‘burning the bones’ you mean burning a still rotting body. That could release an angrier spirit.”

“C’mon,” Dean chuckled, “since when are you afraid to get your hands dirty?”

We were digging Angela’s grave, the three of us panting as we tossed soil into a large pile. When we were done, Dean gestured to the coffin.

“Ladies first.” He joked to Sam, who winced and opened the coffin-

“What the hell?” I exclaimed. The coffin was empty.

“This can’t be possible.” Sam frowned.

“They buried the body four days ago.” Dean fumed.

“I don’t get it.”

I aimed my torch at the side of the coffin, seeing inscriptions. I got in, bending down so I could see the letters properly.

“Beanie? Got something?” Dean called. I pulled a pen and a flip notepad out of my inside pocket, balancing the notepad on my knee as I quickly wrote down the inscriptions, every small marking possible. “Beanie!”

“We need to get back to the safe house.” I clicked my tongue, holding out my torch to see the paper. “I’m not translating this thing in a graveyard.”

“Alright, what now?” Dean asked, sitting down at the table. I sipped a cup of coffee, taking out every language book in my satchel and laying them out on the table, opening them to the title page. Then I reached in, digging my hand around, shoulder deep.

“Ivy, say something.” Sam urged.

“Alright, then.” I cleared my throat, still searching. “Where is this thing? Oh, right. So, that is an Ancient Greek dialect, as you know. But it’s gonna take me days to find the right one, and we don’t have that kind of time, so I need a little help.” I closed my fingers around a long cylindrical vial full of clear liquid. “Is this the truth serum?” I pulled the cap off, tapping the side twice. It glowed blue, so I smiled. “This is it.” I dipped a finger in it and made an inscription on the paper, feeling proud that I could actually still somewhat retain something from my witch days. “It’s actually relieving that I can still use some parts of sorcery.” I poured a careful amount in my hand and flicked it, drops of water landing on the front pages, but they absorbed the liquid and were left dry.

“What are we waiting for?” Sam whispered.

“Wait for it.” I grinned, and then the pages of every book started moving, flipping back and forth, searching for the right dialect.

“This is cool.” Dean laughed, his hands out and his expression like a child. “We’re experiencing witchery firsthand, Sammy.”

“I can see that, Dean.” Sam quickly replied. Then some books started closing with a snap, all of them shutting until one in the top left corner opened on a page with the exact dialect on it. I picked it up, placing it down on the left of the sheet I’d copied the scripture down on.

“Vitam superiorem voco. Legiones inferorum voco. Magnam virtutem invoco, o diabole, ut hanc animam vivifices. Mihi, illis, vitae.” I recited.

”Hey, you might summon a body!” Dean warned, but I waved him off.

“I need to inscribe this on a coffin for it to work, so chill, you little squirrel.” I chuckled, then looked over them again. “Translation: I call it a higher life. I call the legions of hell. I invoke a great power, O devil, for you to revive this soul. For me, for them, and for life.” I whistled. “This is an incantation for a ritual typically used in necromancy. You can use it to chat to souls on the other side or revive fresh corpses. But you can’ just do a random person, it has to be someone close to you and it requires a blood sacrifice.”

“Blood sacrifice?” Sam repeated.

“You heard me. Person we’re looking for most likely has a rune in their arm. But best bet? Dr Mason. Man knows his Ancient Greek.” I drew air in through my teeth, stacking the books one by one and placing them in my satchel.

“I know we’ve never really touched the subject, but…” Sam pointed to my arm, the one with the rune on it, “how do you get by without your powers?”

“I’ve done a lot of hobbies, and one was hunting. I’ve been training since I was around six or seven, which was when Dad taught me how to draw pretty shapes with salt, what he called holy water and oil. Then when I was ten, he gave me books on different creatures and how to kill ‘em. Then when I was thirteen, he took me to a range in the middle of the woods where he taught me to shoot. By the time I was off to college, I was an expert marksman, a good fighter since he’d put me in martial arts, I knew almost everything there is to know about things and how to kill ‘em. I only got my powers at 19, so I could get by pretty well if I didn’t have ‘em.”

“Your dad taught you well.” Dean smirked.

“Yeah, by the time I was, what, fifteen, I could just do this.” I covered my eyes, aiming for a target board on the wall and firing, uncovering my eyes and seeing that it hit bullseye.

“I couldn’t do that at fifteen.” He grumbled. I checked the time, then cleared my throat.

“I’ve gotta go, boys.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“I’ve got a date.” The two whistled, making me grimace. “You’re both idiots.”

“Well, c’mon, we need to get you ready!” Sam grinned, starting to fluff up my hair. Dean folded my jacket’s collar, clicking his tongue.

“You go and spend some time with Xavier, we’ll confront the old man.” Dean winked.

“If we need you, we’ll call you.”

“Thanks, guys.” I smiled. “Even if you two are both annoying.”

”You’re like our sister, Beanie.” Dean smirked, taking my necklace and hanging it down the front of my shirt, where the green stone was visible. “But if Xavier breaks your heart, I am taking my pistol and going for him myself.”

”I don’t know, maybe I can talk to Angela to get the deed done.”

I was waiting for Xavier outside a bar, when I felt someone’s presence.

“Who’s there?” I frowned, putting my hand on my gun.

“Don’t shoot.” Angela was beside me. “You’re Ivonne. Ivy.”

”Speaking.” I still kept my hand on my gun. “But why?”

”I know your brother. Carter.” She explained. “We met on the other side and asked me to find you. He wants to tell you who took over his mind the night he died.”

”Tell me.” I gritted my teeth. “Angela, so help me, tell me who did it.”

”It was-“

”Ivy?” Xavier was walking towards me, and the next thing I knew, Angela was gone. “Hey.”

”Hey.” I grinned, pecking him on the cheek. “It’s been such a long time.”

”I know, eight hours is way too long.”

After a while of talking, I got a phone call from Dean. I picked it up, sighing. “Really? Three hours?”

’It wasn’t Dr Mason.’ Dean replied. ‘But, uh, we need some help with the rest of this.’

“Do you need my help so you don’t verbally assault anyone else?”

‘Pretty much.’

“I’ll be there.” I cut the call, grimacing. “The boys need me.”

”That’s fine.” Xavier shrugged. “I don’t mind it, cause I know how it is. Go, solve the case.”

”Ok, Xavier.” I smiled, giving him a kiss. “Thanks.”

”Go get it, then thank me again.” He grinned, and I picked up my stuff, got a taxi and drove back to the safe house. I unlocked the door, hung up my jacket, and went into the kitchen.

“You needed me?”

”We think Neil is the one who brought back Angela.” Sam explained.

”Is there some voodoo that you can use to track the spell’s caster down?”

“There should be, yeah.” I nodded, reaching in my satchel and pulling out a spell book and a bundle of rosemary. I arranged the rosemary into a rune, writing Neil’s name onto a sheet of paper and taking Dean’s lighter, muttering an incantation before burning the paper, letting it fall onto the rosemary. All of it burnt to ashes, but then turned red and started forming a person. A person who looked like the spitting image of Neil himself. “There we go.”

“Neil resurrected Angela.” Sam breathed. “The things you’d do for love.”

“But these things are typically what you shouldn’t do.” I clicked my tongue. “Sam, anything in John’s journal?”

“No lore.” He shook his head.

“What, you can’t just smoke ‘em with a headshot?” Dean asked.

“Man, you watch way too many Romero flicks.”

“Well, they can’t be unkillable.” I pulled out a book and opened it. “Oh, god help me, this is in Babylonian even though it’s an Ancient Greek manner of killing the revived. Give me a second.” I peered at it for a second. “The most sure-fire way to kill these things is through a blood sacrifice. Theirs. In order to get the blood, they say you have to ‘nail the dead into their grave beds’.”

“We have to find dear Angie, then.” Dean resolved, storing his gun on his person.

”But Angela’s going to be hard to neutralise, so prepare silver bullets just in case.” I replaced the cartridge full of lead bullets in my gun with a cartridge of silver bullets.

“Got it.”

We unlocked the door to Neil’s house, my gun held up.

“Hello? Neil?! It's your grief counsellors- we've come to hug.” Dean called, and I gave him a look. “What?”

“Really?!” I whispered as he pulled out a gun.

“Silver bullets?” Sam asked.

“Enough to make her rattle like a change purse.” Dean smirked.

“Wilted plants.” I nodded. “And creepy basement door. Unless he keeps his private collections down there, I’d say this is a good place to keep a killer zombie.” Sam opened the door and both Dean and I sped to the landing, holding our guns out as we stepped down the stairs. However, it was empty.

“Sure looks like a zombie pen to me.”

“An empty one. You think she’s gone to get someone?”

Dean pulled back a vents revealing a hole. “Nah, I think she’s gone to rent beaches.”

“Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We gotta find her, Dean.”

“Well, Matt was killed because he cheated on Angela, right?” I asked, hands in my pockets.

“Yeah.” They both answered.

“So it takes two to tango. Plus, Angela’s roommate Lindsey seemed a little too attached to Matt’s death.” I deduced. “I think we need to pay another visit to Lindsey.”

We drove up to Lindsey’s house, running up to the front door. We opened it and I ran past the boys, aiming at Angela and firing three times. She writhed, screaming and facing us. I shot one more time, hitting Angela in the chest, and she cried out and ran out of the window.

“I’ve got you.” Sam whispered to Lindsey, holding her. Dean ran out of the window that Angela burst through, running back in a second later.

“Well, that dead chick can run.” Dean scoffed. “I think we should have a little chat with Neil.” We made sure Lindsey was safe before running to the car, getting in and driving off to Neil’s house.

”So the silver bullets, they did something, right?”

“Something, but not enough.”

“Time to try the nailing into their grave thing as a Plan B.” I grimaced. “I know where we can get a pole from, so I’ve made a call. This is probably where all the vampire lore comes from, now that I think of it.”

“How the hell are we going to get Angela back to the cemetery?” Dean asked.

“You tell me, Winchester.” We pulled up at Neil’s office, knocking sharply on the door. When there was no answer, I took a picking tool and opened it, all of us advancing into his room.

“What are you guys doing here?” Neil asked, standing up.

“You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you -- you take the cake.” Dean scoffed.

“Ok- who are you guys?”

“You might want to ask Angela that question.”

“What?”

“We know what you did, Neil.” I persisted. “You brought back Angela. Kid, I’ve gone through a fair share of rituals myself and I know one when I see one.”

“You're crazy.” Neil stammered.

“Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy?” Dean scoffed. “When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff.”

”It’s black magic, Neil.” I sighed.

“Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey.” Sam exclaimed urgently.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Neil whispered.

Dean stomped over, taking Neil roughly by the collar. “Hey! No more messin’ around, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. All of us can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!”

“She’s at my house!” He burst out, looking hounded. Dean spotted a wilted plant and so did Sam and I, so Dean formulated a plan.

”You sure about that?” When Neil nodded, Dean smirked his proud smirk. “Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some-some scar weed, some candles... It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us.” Dean stared intently. “I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now.”

“No, no.”

I leaned in, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I get your situation, Neil. But more people could die. So, listen to me carefully. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad.” He nodded shakily, and I patted him in the shoulder. I raised my voice deliberately, turning to Sam and Dean. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You really think this is going to work?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Dean shrugged. “But it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

”You ordered a metal pole?” Xavier showed up with a pointy metal rod, which he gave to Dean.

“Yeah, we did.” I grinned, kissing Xavier briefly. “Thanks, Zay.”

“We owe you, man.” Sam grinned, shaking his hand.

“Yeah, we do, Zay.” Dean teased. “I’m kidding. Name’s Dean.”

“Xavier, as you know.” He smirked, both of them shaking hands. We heard a noise, and I pulled a gun from my arm holster, going in the direction of the sound. I heard steps behind me, so I turned around and pointed my gun at Angela, who stopped short, putting her hands up.

“Wait! It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back.” She begged. “But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please.”

“Do I care?” I scoffed, then shot her in the forehead. Her head snapped back as she screamed, and I started for the grave, but she tackled me, and twisted my head back.

“I could’ve told you who killed your brother!” She snarled. “Now you have to die, just like he did.”

“Yeah, right.” I shot her in the chest, getting up and shooting again. Another bullet joined me: Dean’s. We both fired at her again and again, until she reached the end, to which Xavier fired a shot from his gun, and she fell in. Dean took the pole, stabbing it into her.

“What’s dead should stay dead.” He growled.

“WAIT! NO-“ Dean drove the stake through her, and she immediately went limp, cutting off her last plea.

”Finally.” I groaned, replacing my cartridge.

Dean seemed rather off after we re-killed Angela, and Sam wanted to keep Xavier company, so the other two were driving back to my house in Xavier’s car. Dean’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, and then he suddenly pulled over. He got out and so did I, watching as he sat down on the hood.

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting down.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking down.

“For what, Dean?”

“The way I've been acting. And for Dad. It’s my fault that he’s dead.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you and Sam've been thinking it -- so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone.”

I sighed. “Dean…”

“You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know.”

“We don’t know that, not for sure.”

“You, Sammy and Dad ... you're the most important people in my life.” He started crying, and I took his hand. “And now ... I never should've come back, Ivy. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You and Sam wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it. So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?”

“I can’t.” I whispered, but I instead leaned his head on my shoulder, letting him cry it out. “But I know how you feel.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

#dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #sam and dean #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn masterlist #supernatural oc #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x you #supernatural #ivonne rainer

29 notes · View notes

murderbirds · 9 months

Text

Day 6- Crossover

For today, have my Gotham pokemon AU. I wrote a new chapter to go with the art. You can read all of it at the end, but here is the new chapter:

When Edward decided to take an ex champion, alleged evil team leader and killer in his home, he expected one million things. He could decide to just kill Ed for the hell of it, maybe he enjoyed the sound of his screams and decided to torture him to know all information he knew about Galavan. Ed did work for the police after all. Perhaps he would force his savior to become his servant or, maybe, if the forensic scientist was lucky, he would take him under his wing and make a true trainer out of him. Instead, it took a week for Oswald to properly wake up due to his infections.

At first, he was skeptical, he even threatened Edward and assumed that the other would be a danger to him, but upon realizing that wasn't the case, Gotham's greatest trainer in the past fifty years became docile. He would spend most of his days either crying or sleeping. To even eat, it took everything out of him.

Now, Edward knew something had happened to the man's mother. He spoke about her when he slept occasionally and even sang to himself. He was understanding at first, allowing Oswald to take his time to mourn, however, after the first month, his patience was running thin. If the champion had at least tried to kill him, that would have been interesting.

Worst of all was Ogerpon. She wasn't exactly the patient kind and she seemed to be particularly unhappy with Oswald's pokemon eating her favorite snacks. Ed tried to buy enough for everyone, however he wasn't made of money.

That evening, Ed was getting home after work. Despite being tired, he had stopped by the supermarket to buy a few things for dinner. Just as he was making his way up the stairs, he heard a loud noise coming from his apartment. His eyes widened and he immediately dropped his bags to run home faster. He would recognize the sound of Ogerpon's attack anywhere. “Oggy!” He shouted as he unlocked the door to find Oswald's empoleon blocking the ogre's club just before it could hit his trainer.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Ed shouted and Oswald barked back.

“Your pokemon went crazy!” The champion's words seemed to spark something in the grass pokemon as her eyes burned and she let out a cry before jumping into the air to try and stab the trainer with her tiny horns.

Before she could hit, however, a glow came from one of Oswald's pokeball, revealing his togekiss which immediately used its wing to slash at the grass type, critically hitting it and sending the creature flying through the bathroom door.

“No!” Edward shouted and ran after her.

Oswald stood up from the bed and followed after them. “Crap- I- is she ok?”

Ed cradled her in his arms and stroked her head. The attack had been strong enough to knock her out. “S-she will be fine. She just needs to rest.”

Oswald sighed with relief. “Thank Arceus.”

“What happened?!”

“I'm unsure, I was watching television and I think my blaziken decided to eat something, one of the treats in the jar from the top shelf so I grabbed it for him and your pokemon suddenly freaked out. What is she anyway? A legendary I assume. Are you a member of the elite?”

“That's it then… those aren't snacks, they are special herbs from back home. I told her not to touch them because they were special, so she must have been trying to protect them.” He kissed her head, “I'm not an elite. Just some kid from a small island. Ogerpon is said to have arrived on my island a long time ago with her friend, but they were attacked and her original master killed so she got her revenge. This caused the people of the village to become terrified of her. Really, she is a sweetheart with just a bit of a temper.”

“Shit, I'm really sorry Ed…”

Edward glared at him. “Where did you get a togekiss anyway?! I thought those pokemon only went with good people.”

Oswald winced and the togekiss flew in front of him protectively. “It's ok, Eli.” The champion stroked its white feathers, causing it to relax. “My mother actually brought it with her when she moved from her region. They used to be quite common there until- until the elite trainers invaded searching for their legendary pokemon and stronger ones.” He spat, “people like the international police you so proudly work for.”

“They are just trying to keep people safe!”

“Really? Legendaries have been doing that for thousands of years without their help. Now look, you have people capturing them into mind control balls and using them to force those who can't afford a master ball into submission. Is that what you want to keep?”

“Well, I don't see anyone trying to do anything better!”

“I did! I tried! I reached the top, all without a single legendary pokemon, defeating one after the other, do you know what the thanks I got?! The whole city was hunting me down like a beast and my mother- my- my mother-” Oswald teared up. His lips quivered and Ed knew he had said what he shouldn't have.

“What happened?”

“It doesn't matter.” Oswald whispered and turned around, limping back to the bed.

Ed frowned and grabbed his pokemon before joining his roommate who was now sitting by the window with his pokemon around him. As the scientist sat down, the empoleon, togekiss and blaziken glared at him, protective of their trainer.

The brunette simply sat on the floor in silence trying to think of what to say and how to apologize.

Oswald was the one who broke the silence though, “El was her pokemon. Not mine. He joined my team to help me bring her back.” He wiped his tears with the palms of his hand. The champion didn't need to speak for Ed to know they hadn't been successful.

“Did you lose?”

Oswad laughed. It was a bitter laugh. “No. I won. It wasn't even difficult. That was the problem though. These people don't accept losing. It was my fault. I should have just let him win. Gotham isn't worth it. Nothing was.”

Ed watched him with pity. Even evil team leaders were capable of love, huh? “Well… what are you going to do about it now?”

The champion looked at him. “Huh?”

“Well, no offense, Oswald, but your mother was only dragging you down.”

“Excuse you?! My mother was a saint!” His pokemon seemed ready to attack and with Ogerpon still unconscious, Ed knew he wouldn't be able to stop them.

He still kept going. “Exactly! She was a good person, the thing you loved most. And she is gone. That means you are not tethered to anything else anymore. Nothing to hold you down.” Ed crawled to him and placed his hands on Oswald's thigh, causing the other to tense up and blush. “You can make a real difference, Oswald. You could save this region.”

The champion finally looked down to meet his eyes, cheeks still pink. “Y-you really believe in me?”

“More than I have ever believed in anyone.”

Oswald was silent for a moment. He inhaled and looked down at one of his pokeballs. “Maybe… maybe I could try again. There is just one problem. Galavan took half of my pokeballs. Elijah, Gertrude and Blaziken are the only pokemon I have left and I don't think I have the energy to train three new pokemon from zero.”

“What's your plan?”

“I'm unsure. I need to talk to some people, hope someone is willing to help. I still don't know if this is a good idea, but like you said, what do I have to lose?”

Edward smiled a little. “Well, Ogerpon and I will be by your side the entire time.”

“I'm not sure how happy she will be about that, but… thanks. Edward, was it?”

Ed felt beyond happy. “That's my name, alright".

#gotham #batman #dc comics #dc #penguin #nygmoblepot #riddlebird #riddler #my art #riddlebirdweek #pokemon

21 notes · View notes

kichimiangra · 4 months

Note

Please tell us more about the differences between goats and sheep; you're the only person I know with firsthand experience.

Personality wise, from my experience, Sheep are more standoffish than Goats are (Though either can have an array of personality), and they need different minerals for good health. Sheep are great for mowing the lawn because they like to eat the grass, while goats are good at maintaining weeds and eating stray leaves off the ground

youtube

Sheep also tend to be more skiddish than goats from my experience, while goats are more inquisitive.

Sheep have a split upper lip (Doing 'Kitty Face' :3 ) while goats don't.

Sheep *usually* don't have horns while almost all goats have them, and when sheep DO have them they tend to curl downwards in a spiral while goat horns tend to go upwards. There are exceptions to this rule on both sides though.

Sheep tails hang low (And are often docked into nubs for hygiene and not-getting-bit-off reasons) while Goat tails curl upwards. Also the back side of a goats tail tends to be bald but from experience if you can get close enough to touch that tails skin it is the softest baby smooth skin I has ever felt in my life oh my god so soft!!!!! SO SMOOTH!!!

Also Sheep don't tend to get beard while not all but A LOT of goat breeds do.

There are other differences but those are more like "Mineral supplementary needs" so not something you just see.

Sheep like to stick together and I don't know them to climb, but goats love to explore and climb and sometimes they like to be by themselves because they're more independent than sheep are.

They do tend to have more in common than they do differences. While sheep are more known for Wool there are plenty of breeds of Goats, such as cashmere, angora, and Altai's who produce wool, while there are also sheep breeds called "Hair Sheep" that instead of wool grow hair so they don't need to be sheered.

Both need their hooves trimmed regularly. A lot of people think of Hooves as something hard and good for clobbering, but in reality they're like thick flexible toenails. On both hoovling species they can grow long and curl under the foot and need to be trimmed off with some cutters

a lot of the bottom of the foot is cartilagey and you have to scrap to poopy and mud out from under their nails or they can get something call "Hoof Rot". The cartilage also grows up like a High heel heel and that needs to be trimmed down as well.

While they differ in what they like to pick out of the grass both species love to eat Hay, and as ruminant animals if it's cold in the winter you can give both a bit of corn to trigger rumination and that helps them warm up.

That's all I can think of off of the top of my head? NOW Time for a story! I like when in Cult of the Lamb people draw the Lamb with a demon form with extra horns because it reminds me of a story from my mom! So this takes place in the 1970's when my mom was a little girl. She lived in a religious farmish community that also had a bit of mob activity but that parts not important. There was woodland paths and it was often safer for the kids running around the neighborhood to use them rather than be on the street. One day my mom was a little girl using the wood paths when she saw this multighorned monster in the woods watching her from behind a tree. She swore she saw the devil that day and ran home in tears.

A few days later one of the local farmers came by asking about a Jacobs horned sheep he had had imported that went missing and wondering if anyone had seen it. It didn't take long for him to be pointed to my mom's house as she had been screaming for days about seeing the devil in the woods behind her house.

Why it was upright... who knows but it was probably using the tree to scratch between it's horns

#kc rambles #kc answers stuff

12 notes · View notes

thegreymoon · 11 months

Text

So, a couple of weeks ago I came across an idiotic post in the 2ha tags from someone who had NOT EVEN READ THE BOOK but had gone on to spoil themselves for the ending and then had the audacity to think they had a seat at the discussion table with hot takes such as “Mo Ran is so stupid, reading about him makes me barf” and “Evil Flowers are so unbelievable” and “deus ex machina, blablablaaaaa” 🙄🙄 I admit that my reaction to that post was not my best moment because I generally do not go around calling people stupid to their faces for objectively stupid fandom takes. And yes, I have since stopped engaging, blocked and gone on to touch some grass because in the grand scheme of things, This is Not Important.

But here I am again, digging up the corpse of this dead horse to beat it some more.

It is not my intention to tell people they must like 2ha and that they are objectively wrong for not liking it. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it; I will probably not be taking reading recommendations from you because our tastes in fiction don’t align, but otherwise, I don’t really care. There are a million reasons why this book would not be somebody’s cup of tea, from the eroticised rape, icky age gaps and explicit gore, to more benign things, such as episodes that stretch the suspension of disbelief a little too thin (for example, casting a spell to walk under water in exactly the same way as you would on ground, disregarding all laws of physics—which was my personal snagging point). Hell, in spite of literal decades of effort, I could never get my own mother to sit through The Lord of the Rings because she just couldn’t get past the walking trees, so mmv and that is fine.

Also, addressing the blatherings of someone who had not even read the book and was just parroting what they had seen other people say with a dash of half-baked high school literary criticism that they were not even applying correctly is absolutely a waste of my time and I am fully aware of that. However, this was not the first time I had seen “deus ex machina” leveraged as criticism against 2ha, it’s just that this time, I got angry enough to sit down and write a rebuttal on why this is simply not true.

I have many thoughts on this topic and this whole thing got entirely too long for Tumblr, so I decided to post it on AO3 instead. Here is the link ☝☝

#2ha #2ha meta #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan #shi mei

24 notes · View notes

hydropyro · 7 months

Text

Webs of Fate Chapter 5

AO3 Link

CW: Abdirak and all he entails

Astarion feeding

———

“You actually have to stay in camp if you mean to watch over it,” Abdirak said some time later after everyone else had gone to bed, startling the vampire.

“Gods,” Astarion put a hand over his chest in overdramatized shock. “You’re quiet.”

Abdirak moved closer to the vampire should they be overheard. He had been studying the man and he didn't seem terribly feral.

“If you're offering to help keep watch it is appreciated, darling, but unnecessary. I was just going to do a walk around the camp border.”

“Let me walk with you,” Abdirak said. “I enjoy this time of night.” His tone made it clear to the less mature man that he was not interested in debating the subject. He saw the high elf’s shoulders slump some, but Astarion didn’t argue. The pair paced off together.

When they were out of earshot of anyone who may have still been awake, Abdirak broke the uncomfortable silence between them. “I do want to help. Not in keeping watch, though.

“You’ll need to fight tomorrow — it won’t be easy. Goblins are vicious — animalistic. You need to be well rested — and well fed.”

Deep red eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dark turned onto him. Abdirak could not see as well as the elf could in this light, but could make out the contours of a frown on the other man’s face.

“Gale’s cooking is passable.”

“Did you eat any of it?”

Before Astarion could make another excuse or try and weave another tale, Abdirak held up a hand.

“I know, child. I noticed the first moment I saw you. How no one else has realized is — concerning, really. Though I imagine you must all be in your own heads — alongside your ‘guests’.”

The vampire tensed. Abdirak felt it more than was able to see it.

“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to tell anyone. It is not for me to speak of.” Abdirak patted the elf’s shoulder, smirking as the man shied away. “But I am willing to help you. When did you last eat?”

He could hear Astarion swallow. Could hear the subtle mouth sounds as he bit his own lip or cheek and worked his jaw in thought. Abdirak continued walking, carefully picking out his steps in the dim light.

“I’m not a monster—” the elf said quietly, defending himself against a judgment that the Loviatan hadn’t made.

Abdirak shrugged. “Who said you were?”

Footsteps started again behind him and the Paingiver consciously relaxed — though the vampire didn’t attack. Instead, the surefooted elf fell in step beside him.

“Two days,” Astarion said. “I had a boar. Animals are okay — but all of this adventuring and fighting is exhausting.”

“Are animals enough?” He met those glowing eyes again, but they flicked away — he was ashamed — though Abdirak did not yet know why.

“I — don’t know.”

Abdirak caught his arm and stopped. “I was sent by my goddess to assist your camp. And I see that you are in pain, child. You’re pained by your hunger — and by a shame I don’t yet understand.

“Let me relieve you.”

In the moonlight he could see the elf’s disgusted grimace. “I am not going to let you beat me.”

Abdirak laughed, his hand falling away from the elf and back to his side. “It’s not time for that — yet.” The elf’s eyes narrowed but the human continued, “I will give you what I can of my blood. You will probably still need to hunt, so I’ll keep watch while you’re gone.”

Those narrowed sanguinous eyes widened then. Astarion searched Abdirak’s face questioning, before falling on the hollow of the Pain’s throat. He swallowed audibly again.

“What — what do you want?” The elf was untrusting, but his gaze was transfixed now. “In return, I mean.”

Abdirak knelt. The ground was cool, and the grass was just a touch damp. “Must I want something?”

“Most people do—” Despite his clear reservations the vampire followed the Paingiver to his knees, shuffling a bit closer as he did.

Abdirak shrugged. He reached up to his shoulder and unclasped the high, flared-collared, spined pauldron, pulling it off and folding it neatly before setting it out of the way. “I am here only to serve my goddess. Accompanying you and your acquaintances is how she wishes for me to serve.

“My Maiden only asks for pain. It needn’t be your own.” Abdirak smirked. “I prefer pain wilfully given — I won’t harm you, Astarion.”

The elf had raised his hands now, looking like a cat about to pounce as though he expected Abdirak to run away at any moment. Though his body was ready, driven by the insatiable thirst Abdirak had read vampires were plagued by, his eyes still held shame and fear.

The Pain took one of the elf’s outstretched hands gently into his own. His bare skin was cool and soft. He pulled Astarion closer to him, the vampire having to put his free hand on Abdirak’s thigh for balance, before he released his hand.

“All I ask is that you don’t be gentle. My goddess demands pain,” Abdirak murmured, but he wasn’t sure that the vampire was able to hear him, now leaning close only inches from the Pain’s exposed, warm neck. “It also wouldn’t suit anyone should you lose yourself and kill me, Astarion.”

The sound of his name brought the vampire back to the present for a moment and he choked out, “Yes — of course. I’ll only take as much as I need — I can — hunt — after—”

Abdirak chuckled and he could see the vampire's glowing eyes darken as his pupils dilated when the Pain swallowed. “Go on—” Abdirak urged.

The other man didn’t need to be told twice. He reached forward and put a cold hand on Abdirak’s shoulder and cradled his head with the other. He was tender as he leaned forward, using his hand to tilt Abdirak’s head to the side.

The Pain made a discontented sound and the vampire paused. Then his hands tightened on the human’s flesh — his well-manicured nails dug deliciously into his shoulder and wrenched his hair.

The bite was a sharp pain, unlike anything Abdirak had experienced before. The human gasped as he felt his skin relent to the pressure of the vampire’s sharp fangs. It was not a severe pain, but the Loviatan was accustomed to savoring and celebrating all pain, and so hid no sound from his goddess or Astarion.

He grabbed the vampire’s elbow and added pressure with his fingers. It wouldn’t be enough to harm him, but Astarion understood the meaning and clamped his jaws down harder, the blunter lower teeth just piercing into the Pain’s flesh. That was a familiar pain. Then he moved his hand to his own thigh and dug his nails into his flesh, silently thanking the Maiden. The metallic scent of blood filled his nose, and he could hear Astarion draw a heavy breath.

Astarion quivered as he drank. The sounds he made were not that much unlike Abdirak’s, though the vampire was surely only experiencing pleasure.

Abdirak felt the coolness spread from the side of his neck, sharp like ice crystals, but also dull and throbbing into a sort of numbness. The longer Astarion drank the more weak Abdirak felt. Before too long his hand lifted from his thigh and grasped the vampire’s forearm to steady himself, and he slumped back onto the ground, his body now being supported by the hand that still clutched desperately at his hair and scalp.

It did not seem that the vampire was able to stop.

Abdirak reached out to the side, feeling around in the dirt, and cast Light on a small stone once he’d collected one in his hand.

The vampire leapt back, dropping the weakened human onto the ground. Outside of being startled, though, Astarion was not harmed by the light being emitted from the stone. Abdirak dismissed the spell, and the wilderness fell dark again.

“I got carried away,” the elf murmured. “How do you feel?”

“Weak. I will need to rest. But I’m fine. Loviatar is pleased.” The warmth around his soul was in stark contrast to the ice in his veins at that moment. He’d lost blood before, sometimes in significant amounts. Either Astarion had consumed more than he’d thought, or there were some properties to vampire bites, even from spawn which he believed the elf to be, that he was not familiar with. Abdirak made a mental note to read up on vampires.

When he began to sit up Astarion helped him, looking him over almost anxiously.

“I’ll be alright,” Abdirak assured him. “Hurry and hunt — I can get back to my tent.” He pulled himself to his feet, feeling woozy but otherwise steady enough to walk back to camp. The vampire handed him his shoulder garment while Abdirak murmured words of healing — a palm pressed over the bite. Normally he would have left the wound to heal on its own, but the bites may raise questions he didn’t feel he had the right to answer. He left the self-inflicted claw marks on his leg. He would clean them so they would heal properly, but would not magically mend them.

“How do you feel?” Abdirak asked, still smiling at the vampire. Astarion’s shame had faded some, but he was uncomfortable, still, despite seeming overall pleased.

“I feel — strong.” He gave a small laugh, “Happy.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, I assume,” Abdirak gave him a small wave and began to don his garments again.

“Thank you.”

The Paingiver glanced up and saw very serious red eyes locked onto him.

“This — was a gift.”

The two men regarded one another a moment in silence, before the vampire gave a small nod and turned toward the darker parts of the forest. He had always looked graceful and sure but seemed powerful now as Abdirak watched him go.

Abdirak was careful as he made his way back toward the camp. He would sit by the low burning fire and eat something before going to sleep.

A gift? Not really. The Pain had only been doing as his Maiden willed. The vampire’s gratefulness felt odd, and Abdirak couldn’t help his smirk as he settled himself down by the fire. He was grateful that his goddess had allowed him this opportunity. He didn’t fully understand his mission or the people with whom he now traveled — but had a feeling that it was going to be interesting, to say the least.

#baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #Astarion #Abdirak #webs of fate #fan fic writing #fan fiction #Abdirak as a companion

11 notes · View notes

jaegerjackoff · 1 year

Text

The Doctor | Part 5 | The Mandalorian

< PART 4 | Part 6 >

SUMMARY: The Mandalorian makes his departure. The Doctor has visitors.

PAIRING: slow burn Din Djarin x afab!reader

(no physical descriptions or y/n; has vague relatives, a surname, and backstory/personality)

WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, implied needles

WC: 1.6k+

A/N: I'm so excited to share this lil bit! 😌 I haven't written any action-y stuff in a while so I hope this is up to par. Also, kinda rawdogging this - I just finished, slapped it into grammarly to catch my big mistakes, and decided it's time to post. Enjoy!

Sure enough, the Mandalorian kept true to his word.

You saw him and the Child off around dusk, padding through damp grass to where the Razor Crest first touched down outside of town. By some shred of grace, you were allowed to carry the baby, whose little hands touching your face in a gentle goodbye nearly brought tears to your eyes. You would miss him and mourn the ambiguous could be of his guardian.

The Mandalorian didn’t seem mad but locked down in what little he let on. You regret speaking impulsively – you should have just rattled on about something mundane, like the plants you were harvesting or the weather. Anything else, rather than asking questions that are none of your business, especially with a bounty hunter. You wipe a hand down your face, realizing how lucky you are. Though (vaguely) familiar, you don’t know the Mandalorian. For all you know, you were toeing a fine line in asking.

When the light of the thrusters fades into the distant blue-grey atmosphere, you trudge back through the treeline into town to pick up something to eat, as much a treat as it is to placate for the severe misstep. You find yourself entwined in an unwilling conversation while waiting for Yvret to finish your order, dismissing what questions that come your way about “Mando” with a shrug and crooked smile.

Where is he going? (I don’t know.)

Why did he leave so quickly? (I don’t know.)

Will he be back? (I don’t know.)

He was nice. (I know.)

Opening your mouth last time earned you knowledge of someone tantalizingly new and adventurous: a wounded, russet-armored man who took a chance on a sparsely populated moon that a stranger suggested he visit for his poor healing. That Mandalorian provided you the tiniest, secondhand morsel of a life you would pursue the remainder of your university stint.

The bounty hunting part frightened you at the time, though the rest satisfied a deep itch you’d always had. Of wandering. Adventure. Freedom. Your formative years were spent mostly on rebel bases, so you craved it. But you couldn’t – shouldn’t – participate in the alliance. It was too dangerous. In the name of the education your parents so kindly sponsored, you placated yourself with field schools on far-off, less habitable planets to study robust and sometimes dangerous plant life.

When your second field school wrapped up, you traveled home from university one last time before the destruction of Alderaan. When an invitation to transfer to Naboo was extended, you were already assimilated into a role with your father. Resigned yourself to the moon, studying its flora in your free time, back to restlessness. (You couldn’t bear to tell your father.) Now, look at you.

So — you’re blissfully unaware as far as the townsfolk are concerned. Not ignorant and torn up over crossing an easily-assumed boundary. Hopefully, you can keep it going; otherwise, you might never hear the end of “running off that nice fellow, Mando,” were they privy to your last few tense hours.

Once home, you soak. Eat in the tub. Pull yourself out sluggishly. The toll of the day is weighing on you now, manifested in the dull ache of your lower back and the fuzz around the edges of your consciousness. You consider calling your mother to seek comfort from a loved one parsecs away, but disappointedly put a pin in that when 2-1B pipes up that it’s definitely too early on Yavin 4. Instead, he urges you to go to bed, sweetening the deal by offering to settle in your room for the night. You can’t complain.

With 2-1B sat in the worn armchair opposite the bedside table, the gentle whirring of parts dissolves into a white noise that lulls you into easy slumber.

You wake to persistent knocking at your front door. Blearily – foolishly – you half-hope that the Mandalorian will be there, green baby tucked under an arm. You’ve run to the clinic in slippers enough times that you pull on a pair of boots and a soft coat on your trudge to the door. 2-1B follows behind, in case you’re needed.

The door slides open, and you pull the zip high on your coat, covering your throat from the bite of morning air. Two men stand on the stoop, expressions pleasant despite their grizzled appearance. You look between them, and they look at you. For a long moment. They don’t look hurt, and you definitely don’t recognize them. They glance at one another briefly. You try to keep an open posture.

“How can I help you?” You ask finally, uncertainty curving your brow.

“Have you seen our friend, Mando?” One asks, proffering a puck from his pocket. Sure enough, it fizzles alight with the Mandalorian’s likeness, helm shimmering in its image. You want to roll your eyes but resist the urge – whatever Maker is out there really won’t give you a break right now, will they?

You look at his hologram closely, knitting your brow. “That could be anybody with a helmet on. Got a holo without it? Or a name?”

“’S all we got, miss.”

“Then I’m afraid not. I’ve read about Mandalorians but never met one,” you sigh wistfully. You think you’re selling it. “I’ve heard they’re rare.”

“That’s funny ’cause we know you have.”

Hopefully, the chill that ripples down your spine isn’t too noticeable. “And how would you ‘know’ this if it were true? This is a small moon, a small town. Locals don’t take kindly to strangers.”

They share an amused look, one bouncing their brows at the other, before their steely gazes return to you.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure.” One says, and has he taken a step closer? You take one back, hand resting on the doorframe.

“I dunno. It was pretty simple.” The other sighs, clicking his tongue in faux disappointment. Slowly, they begin their advance. “This is a town of old scuds, sweetheart. A lil’ strongarming and a few folks mentioned our buddy stayed here, in your place. You have history.”

You blink, having to stifle the pang of hurt. Fear. You care so kriffing much, and it’s inevitable they can glean as much from the wild look in your eyes. Their smug expressions, like they’ve won, make your skin tingle and tears prickle the corners of your eyes.

“If by history, you mean the one time we met ten years ago, sure.” You scoff automatically, cheeks feeling hot now. You aren’t sure what you expect, keeping up this crumbling farce for someone you really have no clue about, but you’ll feel lucky with your life and all four limbs. At least you’ve got a med droid. (If they don’t disassemble him for parts). “He’s got shitty red plate armor and a shiny helmet. That’s all I’ve got.”

It’s a stretch – you don’t know how long he’s looked like he does – but the dated description is enough for their eyes to meet briefly, providing you with an adequate enough window to retreat and slap the door closed. It’s so unbelievably stupid, but now that adrenaline propels you forward, it feels almost thrilling, like what you once chased. Almost because, this time, you’re dealing with bounty hunters sent for a Mandalorian instead of a carnivorous plant or two.

“Come, quickly!” You hiss at the droid, bounding down the hall and opening every door, hoping to slow them down. They pound on the door behind you, shouting indiscernibly.

“What is the plan?” 2-1B asks, looming protectively as you slide the blaster rifle out of its case, now laid out on the bed. Transparisteel shatters distantly as they probably crash through the most accessible route: the great window in the living room.

“I’m going to stun them when they come in. Then I need you to sedate them.” You whisper shakily. “Maker, we should have a real plan for this.” His eyes flicker as you check the gas canister and rise, fingers flipping a small switch near the trigger. There’s no time for affirmation or reflection because you can hear one fast approaching, the tread of his boots sloppy compared to the light-footed Mandalorian.

2-1B flanks you at the ready as you brace the rifle at your shoulder, finger hovering. The rush is making your face numb, and fingers tremble somehow harder. The mere moments drag into hours, and you focus on the corner where they should emerge.

At the first lick of dark fabric, your body pulls tight, and you take the shot. It’s the one who held the puck – he collapses in a heap, blaster skittering away by sheer force. 2-1B pivots the tiniest bit, and you nod. He pulls the man out of sight from the door.

You wait some time before the other comes around – or, it feels like a while, the roaring staccato of your heart practically drowning out any noise from the rest of the house as he rifles through things. Calls his partner’s name once, which you immediately forget.

When he’s down the hall, you speak, “F-fine, I’ll tell you where he’s going! Please, just don’t hurt me.” The sob that forces its way from your chest is genuine, tears flowing freely. The man to your left makes a low sound, wide eyes staring at you, and his partner sounds to pick up the pace. You almost don’t get him in time, firing simultaneously. He drops hard. The bolt he fires is hot, melting the fibers of your jacket to your shoulder, where it grazes past and burns into the wall behind you. You’re sure it hurts, but you can’t feel it yet.

You finally let out a long breath, shoulders sinking. The rifle drops to your side, held by its sling.

< PART 4 | Part 6 >

FEEDBACK POLL! (google forms)

JOIN MY TAGLIST! (google forms)

#cowboy hat emoji #hope you enjoy #i REALLY thought this was a great idea so i hope u all think so too #reader will reflect on this and be highkey-lowkey mortified #fun stuff #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x reader #star wars x reader #mando x reader #din djarin #mando #the mandalorian fanfiction #gif cw #series: i dream of chrome #fic: the doctor #din djarin x you #mandalorian x you

31 notes · View notes

zappedbyzabka · 1 year

Note

It's around Prom season/almost past. And got a couple ideas for you. 1. Daniel goes outside after having his break up with Ali and is pissed and sees Johnny smoking an awful blunt, because the poor guy can't seem to roll anything worth smoking. But he's trying. And something Ali said is sticking Daniel wrong, that maybe she was just a convenient excuse between two idiots and he thinks about how angry he's been for months because after the tournament Johnny's left him alone. Which is what he wanted right? But there was something that felt so intimate about their fight about the thrill of winning and seeing the way Johnny had looked at him afterwards, drenched in sweat from the fight and then the irrational anger at seeing him distant at school, closed in by his cobras who still touch him but avoiding Daniel and there he is, alone at prom, and maybe Daniel's a little drunk, maybe a cobra spiked the punch but he's mad and it suddenly clicks seeing that cherry red burn of a comically small blunt around soft pink lips and the soft fluff of his hair that this is what he wanted. Ever since the beach. Maybe Ali was right. Maybe, like Mr. Miyagi said it's best not to leave people waiting too long, and Daniel goes for it, takes the blunt, says let's get out of here, takes Johnny's hand, delighted when he doesn't pull away and pulls him to his Ford and decides to take him somewhere better, somewhere where they can see the city and maybe Daniel teaches Johnny how to blow smoke rings and then kisses him and fucks him in the back of the Ford, or outside in the grass and that annoyance he'd been feeling for months is soothed by the way Johnny clings to him and begs for more. 2. Someone dares Johnny to attend prom in a dress and Daniel decides he has to be the one to dance with Johnny all night, and at first Johnny thinks it's a joke, that Daniel's teasing him and making fun of him but then he realizes how turned on Daniel is and decides to go for it but then has to figure how to keep his dress clean when Daniel's touching him.

Thank you for sharing these wonderful ideas!👀 I’m so sorry I didn’t reply to this around prom season

:( <3

They went somewhere nice, somewhere clear, where they could just sit and watch the stars shine—but ended up watching each other instead. Johnny thought all those smoke rings were pretty cool and took in Daniel’s instructions before attempting them himself.

And after he got all proud of himself after successfully doing one, Daniel kissed him. Gentlemenly, yet eager and in control. Johnny made a sweet noise against his mouth and allowed Daniel’s tongue in the second Daniel told him to "Open up, sweetheart, come on."

He pushed Johnny to the grass with zero fight, and their hands wandered all over one another.

Some of that pent up frustration eases just from Johnny laid out beneath him like a damn 5-course meal, flushed down to his neck and glassy eyed, pupils blown, lips parted, and a little puffy. Daniel felt pride in his chest; this is the Johnny he knew was in there.

Some more of that frustration let up when he got to see more of him, rucking up his shirt and tugging off his tight jeans. Daniel wanted to fucking eat him, the way his cute dick dripped and that rack of his looked in the moonlight. When he pushed inside Johnny, he forced himself to keep his eyes open so he could watch that pretty face as he did so. But Johnny looked up at him like he was falling in love, and Daniel just had to kiss him; it’s like their lips were just meant to be pressed against each other. They’re two puzzle pieces, it’s true.

And Johnny’s frustration hadn’t much to do with Daniel but with himself. So filled with guilt for losing, for not being good enough, for hurting Daniel—all of it. He didn’t know what to do; he had no one but his cobras. But having Daniel walk up to him and take his panic spliff was what he needed. Listening to his voice as he explained how to do the rings—so patient and gentle with him, unlike Kreese—was like a dream. Getting fucked by him is like heaven, and he’d love to have Daniel inside him every damn day until he dies. He thanks Daniel.

He hopes one day he’ll be folding their laundry while Daniel cooks them dinner in their kitchen. He hopes he’ll finally be good.

2. YES. I’m an absolute sucker for Johnny, a pretty thing wearing a pretty thing.

Tommy dared him almost every year to wear one, sometimes he’d even have recommendations for what kind of dress he should wear specifically. It was always easy to tell when he was watching too many of those fashion shows when he’d start saying things like "bodice". Johnny had decided to just give in; he’d always liked dresses in secret anyway, and if anyone asked, he could tell them to fuck over or tell them about the 50 dollars Tommy promised him, then the added 30 Dutch promised if he actually did it.

He went with something that actually fit well on him—which was hard but also strangely not given his waist-to-chest ratio

(This, maybe in blue.)

Even if he was joking, he didn’t want to be seen as a joke.

He was nervous, a little worried about how people would react to him like this when he always acts so tough, but why does wearing pretty things make him weak? He could kick all their asses in a dress in heels and is willing if anyone says anything.

He danced with Bobby for a bit when they got there, allowing him to help him relax a little and let loose. Bobby was surprisingly into having people's attention on him, Johnny thinks it’s because he was in a choir when he was younger.

Johnny still ended up sitting in a corner with Jimmy, who had left the girl he was dancing with to sit with him.

"Why’d you leave her hanging?"

"I didn’t; I just wasn’t interested in doing that anymore."

"Why?"

"She said Tortoises were boring. When they live, like, hundreds of years. Pfft. She’s lame."

"Oh, yuck. Turtles are cool. But you want to sit here instead because of that?"

"Tortoises. Least until I hear a good song or one of the other guys gets me. And maybe I just wanted to keep you company."

Johnny smiles and rests his head on Jimmy’s shoulder. He can always count on them.

But that’s also why Daniel is stewing in jealousy when he walks up to Johnny and asks him for a dance, pointedly not looking at Jimmy.

Johnny purses his lips, looking over at Jimmy, having a conversation with just their expressions. "Okay. I’ll bite. But if you—"

"I won’t pull anything—"

Johnny makes a zip-it motion with his fingers, and Daniel’s mouth snaps shut. "As I was saying, if you attempt to mess up my dress, I’ll kick your ass."

"I believe it. So…dance with me?"

Johnny agrees, taking Daniel’s hand and dragging him over to the dance floor. He can still feel how sweaty Daniel’s hands are through his lace gloves. "Why are your hands so sticky?"

He was sweating a lot; he does when he’s upset, he does when he’s jealous—pretty much any strong emotion. "It’s hot in here."

"They have the AC blasting, but alright."

Johnny stops, turning around to face him and throwing his arms over Daniel’s shoulders. Daniel rests his hands on Johnny’s waist; the fabric of the dress feels nice. They start to sway.

Johnny stares at the banner behind Daniel.

"Trying a new style? You look, uh, really pretty."

Yikes, Daniel thinks. Is Johnny okay with "pretty"?

"Don’t make fun of me, punk"

Daniel shakes his head, his hair moving with it, and squeezes his waist assuringly. "I wouldn’t do that. I meant it, you look good."

Johnny studies his face for a moment, then smiles. "Oh. Thanks."

Daniel is a cute guy for sure.

Daniel nods, wracking his brain for other things to say—the perfect thing that will get Johnny on a date with him—or in the janitors closet with his skirt rucked up his legs while Daniel—

"You look good too. Really good. I like your suit, it’s very…blue."

"Like your eyes, I guess we match." Daniel grins up at him.

"Guess we do. You trying to copy me?""

Daniel shrugs. "Maybe I am."

Johnny's brows crease, then he laughs.

It’s comfortable, not weird like either of them thought it would be—were scared that it would be. Johnny presses his forehead against Daniel’s, and they listen to the music."

"This is the sound!

Always slipping from my hands

Sand's a time of its own

Take your seaside arms and write the next line

Oh! I want the truth to be known…"

Daniel encircles his arms around Johnny. "Hope they play Speedwagon."

Johnny pulled away then, and Daniel’s arms tightened around him.

"You like Speedwagon?"

"Uh, duh? Only people with bad taste don’t I mean, in my opinion, obviously, if you don’t like them, that’s—"

"Shut up, I love Speedwagon, Daniel. Why didn’t you tell me you had good taste in music before? I coulda’ shown you my cassettes and CD’s!"

He pushes Daniel away and grabs his hand again, pulling him over to where Dutch was sitting instead of Jimmy and shoveling chips from the vending machine into his mouth.

"Hey, man! Can you tell the other guys I’ll be in the parking lot? I’m showing LaRusso my mixes."

Dutch glares at Daniel, lip twitching like he’s disgusted, then looked back up at Johnny. "You gonna hang alone with this dick? Why don’t I come with—"

"Come on, Dutch. It’s fine, okay? Nothing to worry over. We’ll be back." He ruffled Dutch’s hair. "And remember, you owe me thirty in cash."

He blows a kiss at Dutch, who points a middle finger at him as he walks away.

"I’ll kill him if he tries anything, Johnny. I’m not afraid to go to prison!"

Johnny snorts, and Daniel laughs weakly.

"That’s scary."

"He doesn’t mean it, okay? He’s just a worrier."

"But what if he did?"

"Then I’d tell him to stop, simple."

That does make Daniel feel a little better. Dutch may be as aggressive and ready to attack as a wild dog, but he almost always listened to Johnny (and sometimes Bobby.)

He leads him to the parking lot, letting go of Daniel’s hand to unlock the door. Daniel missed the warmth; he wanted to know every line on Johnny’s hand.

"Get in the back. It’s cozier."

Johnny winks at him, and Daniel’s heart pounds, hard on aching. Normally he’d question, but…

He opens the car door and slides onto the seat. It smells like cigarettes and cologne—not Johnny's, though. Johnny always smelled like soap and musk (which had a sweet tinge to it.) He wonders if there’s a little unused bottle of some expensive scent sitting on Johnny’s dresser. He doesn’t know what Johnny’s home life is like, his mother is never at any of his practices, not like Lucille.

Johnny gets in next to him and locks the doors, leaning between the two front seats to dig in his glove box, his dress riding up his thighs. What’s he wearing under there?

"Ah ha!" Johnny exclaims, presenting a CD. "Speedwagon: Lost in a Dream."

He starts the engine and feeds it to the radio, settling back down with his leg pressed against Daniel’s as the music starts up.

"Give me a ride on your roller coaster

Give me a thrill, I can't help feelin' bored…"

Daniel keeps his breathing even, looking at the interior. "I like your car."

"Thanks, Dutch and I did a little remodeling."

They seem pretty close… "Oh, cool."

Johnny thinks about Daniel in his convertible, as an old man, rolling around in it and telling people about the good ole’ days. He wants to be there with him. "Yours is pretty rad too. Outdated and small, but still."

"Hey!"

Johnny snorts, slapping Daniel’s shoulder. "Cool it. Smaller cars are faster!"

Daniel rolls his eyes with a smirk.

They hardly bother to nod their heads to the music before they’re latched onto each other's mouths, magnetitized. They both knew why they were relly there.

Johnny swings his leg over and straddles Daniel, pulling at his inky hair and rocking his hips in his lap, pressing his ass purposefully against Daniel’s crotch, causing him to groan against his lips, a noise Johnny devours.

"Can…fuck….can I get my hands under here, sweetheart? Is that okay?" Daniel asks breathlessly, his fingers kissing the edge of Johnny’s dress.

Johnny nods, and Daniel wasted zero time, greedy hands shoving under and grabbing at what he could.

Is that more lace?

"Jimmy threw in another 20 if I wore them." Johnny explains, leaning down to kiss up his face. "And I already had them. Easy cash."

Daniel lets out an almost pained chuckle "You’re killing me, honey. Tell my mother I said I love her at my funeral."

Johnny reaches between them and unbuttons Daniel’s pants. "Don’t talk about your mom right now, weirdo. Touch me instead, come on."

Daniel gasps and grabs handfuls of Johnny’s ass for support when he starts grinding faster. "Johnny—"

"Y'know, I want you to fuck me, been wanting it."

Daniels gulps. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Been using my fingers while thinking about you, but it’s not enough. Need you to put it in me, Daniel, I want it."

He sounds so whiny, and Daniel is going to cum in his pants prematurely.

"Actually?"

"Yeah, actually. I can take it so good, just you wait."

"Tonight? Like now?"

Daniel lays his head back against the seat, getting closer to the edge at just thoe thought. He’s always thought about Johnny, even when he tried not to. Countless night of jerking himself off to the thought of that ass and pretty face. Does he mean tonight? Is he going to let him do it right here?

"No, LaRusso, not tonight, unfortunately. Can’t let you get my dress dirty, and we’re on a timer."

"Timer?"

"The Cobras are going to check on me soon enough, and if it’s Dutch he'll start a scene."

Ah, right. So is this it for now? He’s grateful, but…

Johnny gets off his lap and back into the seat next to Daniel, taking his arms out of the sleeves of his dress pushing the top down to his hips. He put a hand on Daniel’s thigh.

Daniel really wants to bury his face against Johnny’s chest.

Johnny's lips are moving.

"We can still go all the way, just not tonight. But I can suck it."

Daniel breathes out shakily. Thank god. He nods his head clumsily, and Johnny tugs down his boxers.

Johnny looks captivated. "Wow, man. You’re like…way bigger than I pictured. Fuckin freak of nature having a cock like this with that stick body."

Long and thick, tan and curved. Johnny needs it.

Daniel would usually be annoyed at that, but it sounds like a compliment coming from Johnny, and he’s really, really desperate to get his dick wet. Thanks, I guess."

Johnny hums, then leans down, back arched, so Daniel still has a good view of his ass. He takes the tip into his mouth and sucks.

Daniel keeps himself still, fighting not to buck his hips and choke Johnny. His mouth is so perfect. Hot and slick. He can’t even imagine what the other end of him would feel like.

Johnny swirls his tongue, wrapping a hand around Daniel and taking his mouth off the head for a moment, opening wide and just resting Daniel’s dick there, shaking his head to rub his tongue on it and looking up at Daniel.

"Johnny…you, god, you—"

Johnny giggles, letting his eyes flutter shut as he takes Daniel down his throat this time like a pro.

Daniel chokes on his spit, putting a shaky hand on the dip of Johnny’s back when he really wants to reach farther and squeeze.

Johnny looks up at him again, wiggling his hips a little in a clear invitation that Daniel takes readily, resting his hand on Johnny’s firm ass and patting it before giving it a good grope.

Johnny whimpers, sneaking a hand between his own legs to touch himself through his underwear, which are already damp with precum.

Daniel’s eyes are squeezed shut, and throaty noises escape him as Johnny bobs his head. He looks so hot; Johnny speeds up his hand and takes him down to the base, keeping himself there and waiting.

Daniel peers down at him. "Johnny?"

Johnny lifts his head up again, then drops back down. Doing that a few more times and effectively fucking his mouth with Daniel’s cock.

"What are you doing?"

Johnny picks up Daniel’s other hand and puts it on the back of his head. "Mm!"

Johnny want him to….

He fists Johnny’s hair, still gentle as he can be with it, and pulls his head up so some of his length slips from his mouth, then shoves him back down on it.

God that feels so good. "Is this alright? Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"Mhm." Johnny replies, arching more into the hand on his ass and speeding up the hand between his legs. Daniel keeps doing it.

He takes a leap, licking the pads of two of his fingers before slipping his hand down the back of Johnny’s underwear and lightly rubbing them on his hole. He wants to be inside it so, so bad. He presses down a little more when he feels Johnny swallow around him, and the tip of his middle accidentally slips in.

Johnny chokes, and his whole body tenses, his thighs pressingand whines leaving his mouth as he cums, too drunk on it to feel embarrassed yet.

Daniel feels very pleased with himself. "God, Johnny, I’m gonna…Where do I….?"

He pulls Johnny all the way off by his hair, swearing to commit the sight of Johnny’s debauched face—his mascara a mess on his cheeks and his lipgloss smeared all over Daniel’s—to memory.

"In my mouth." Johnny croaks, holding Daniel’s forearm for support. "Please."

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you want.”

Daniel bites his lip and fills Johnny’s mouth again, letting him lead the pace.

Johnny suckles around him, wriggling his tongue on the underside on every downstroke, and doing his damndest to push Daniel over the edge; it works.

Johnny drinks down every drop that Daniel gives him, pulling off and sticking out his tongue while he wrings Daniel’s cock for more until he pushes his hand away with a pained noise.

Johnny rests his cheek on Daniel’s thigh as they both catch their breath.

"Wow, Johnny, that was—"

Johnny sits up quickly, grabbing a box of tissues from under the passenger seat and wiping his face vigorously. "Yeah, yeah, it was really fuckin’ good, Daniel, but I’d suggest tidying yourself up so we don’t have issues with—Tommy is literally walking out the entrance, man."

Daniel jumps into action, running his fingers panickedly through his hair and stuffing his dick back in his trousers.

There’s a knock at the window; they barely managed.

Johnny leans across Daniel’s lap and turns the crank. "Hey, buddy! You’ve been out here a while. All good?"

He gives Daniel a suspicious look.

"Yeah, man, all good. We were actually just about to head back inside."

Tommy hums. "Why do you sound like that? You getting sick?"

Tommy reaches through the window and puts his hand on Johnny’s cheek. "You’re burning up!"

Johnny lightly smacks it away. "I’m fine, was just singing to the music and got a little hoarse and sweaty."

Tommy raises a brow, but leaves it be. "Alright. We’re missing ya in there, J, so hurry."

"For sure."

Johnny starts shutting the window before Tommy can say anything, and Tommy puts a hand to his heart dramatically before laughing and turning to head back inside.

Johnny turns to Daniel. "One more kiss?"

Daniel smiles and leans in.

#lawrusso #nsft #safety first #I Made it a little fast paced #Daniel is nervous. He’s gonna be A LOT more filthy with his words the next time he sees Johnny

26 notes · View notes