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zepskies · 9 months

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Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster.

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood.

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming.

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done.

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his.

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires.

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest.

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital.

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead.

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness.

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?”

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him.

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son was dead.

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it.

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls.

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.”

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps.

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.”

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.

You truly become incensed at that.

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks.

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn.

Dean calls your name in frustration.

“What?” you hiss.

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks.

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything.

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town.

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own.

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes.

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music.

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts.

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table.

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself.

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart.

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.”

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible.

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him.

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—”

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand.

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

…That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it.

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.”

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday.

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea.

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet.

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room.

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.”

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve.

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head.

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing.

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand.

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance.

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing.

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.”

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot.

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit.

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest.

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.”

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders.

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance.

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles.

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss.

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question.

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking.

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts.

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine.

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close.

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there.

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms.

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze.

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him.

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs.

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye.

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms.

Oh, fuck yeah.

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs.

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up.

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control.

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls.

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums.

He shudders and gasps for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk.

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground.

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit.

He’s still struggling for breath. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck.

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you.

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask.

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love.

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze.

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease.

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts.

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs.

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase.

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room.

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest.

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room.

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again.

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand.

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]:

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re fucking shameless. Keep messing with me. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]:

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

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@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @deanwinchesterswitch @freewastelandstrawberry

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certkidwhocantdomath · 2 months

Text

The artist's user is literally on the top and bottom of the art.

You May Just Live To Regret It

Additional tags: Blind Character, Blindfolds, Referenced Character Injury, Character Death, Angst, Hurt/no Comfort, Kenshi Takahashi needs a hug, Kenshi Takahashi-centric, Survivor's Guilt, Backgroud Relationship

☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠

"I guess the ayes have it, outvoting Kenshi here. Motion carries!"

It should have been him.

"Lead the way, Ashrah."

It should have been him.

That’s what keeps echoing in Kenshi’s head, as he guides the hand on his shoulder through the Living Forest.

"Lagging behind, Takahashi? We gotta keep going."

He was scared to look back, like Orpheus, afraid that if he did, the person following him would be lost forever. Kenshi stepped up his pace following their new friend from the Netherrealm, Ashrah, in the hopes of finding Shang Tsung’s partner in crime.

"There you go. Don’t worry about me, Kendoll. I know it’s hard to stop thinking about me but we gotta find this Quan-Chi first."

It happened so fast, yet Kenshi knew he could have been faster, smarter, he could have fought off Mileena’s hold on his shoulders in her feral state, he could have shouted at Johnny earlier to duck but all he did was watch as Cage ripped the princess from him and she-

"God, this reminds me of Wicked Planet," Johnny mused, listening to the sounds of the forest around him.

Johnny will never be able to see a movie again.

The spine-chilling scream of agony echoes in his ears, drowning out his cry for Johnny, as Mileena’s sais stabbed into the star’s skull-

"We had this forest in the second act-"

Kenshi turned his head by instinct to ask, "The manticore battle?"

It was a mistake.

"Yes!"

The sight choked him with guilt painfully in his chest, Johnny’s smile marred by the red blindfold covering his gouged out eye sockets. The same salve treated cloth he wrapped as gently as possible around the man’s head, the barest he could do to relieve the immeasurable pain he had caused.

You saved me, and it cost you everything.

How can I ever forget that?

"It was a pain to shoot, but man did it come out epic."

Because of him, Johnny’s career, his entire livelihood, is over.

He can see how Johnny’s mood had improved since they escaped Shang Tsung’s laboratory, how Kenshi had angrily talked the martial arts actor out from leaving him there, dragging him out, because he had to live, he had to-

Takahashi smiled despite how horrible it felt to do so.

"I can picture it exactly."

And yet the smile was worth it to see Johnny brighten at his words, to feel then the assuring squeeze on his shoulder, silently communicating to him.

I’m not dead Takahashi. I’ll work my way round this, even if it takes years to do it.

If there was anyone who would change Hollywood to adjust to him, it was Johnny. He doesn’t know how, but…

Kenshi swears to help him every step away, to try and start repaying the star for saving his life.

╬╬═════════════╬╬

"Woah there, Samurai Jack. I gotta stop you right there."

Kenshi felt Johnny’s hand on his chest, stopping him from following Ashrah and the others from stopping Quan-Chi’s soul stealer machinations.

"Johnny, you heard her! Millions could die. And I can’t-"

I can’t stand by again and do nothing to stop it from happening.

"I know, Takahashi, I can’t fight with you guys. I’m blind now, not stupid."

That made Kenshi flinch, and the reaction distracted him enough for Johnny to unclip the sword from behind his back. The swordsman turned to face him and-

“Which is why we don’t want you tripping us up out there for the both of us.”

In Johnny’s hand was Sento, waiting to be taken.

Kenshi’s heart stopped.

Johnny pushed his ancestral sword, what he swore to reclaim, into his tattooed hands, grip tainted with the remains of the actor’s blood.

"What?!"

The man gave him his signature smile as he clipped the old sword to his back.

He didn’t deserve Sento anymore, if he ever did, why was he giving it to him, after he lost his sight because of him, leaving him vulnerable and unable to-

"I can’t. Not when you’re-"

It’s his fault, it’s all his fault-

It should have been him, not Johnny-

Johnny grabbed his wrist firmly, the star’s gaze piercing into him, even when blindfolded now.

"I saved your life. And when you save those people, your dept to me is repayed."

"Johnny, it-it's not that simple! I-"

"It is that simple."

Kenshi’s hands trembled slightly, Johnny’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

"It’s yours."

The Taira clan’s legacy, returned after centuries apart…

Kenshi raised the sheathed katana, feeling as though an invisible bond was reignited within him.

Then before he could utter another a word, say anything back to Johnny, thank him or protest he didn’t deserve it in his dishonor, Quan-Chi’s spell disrupted them, as the necromancer created a monstrous soul amalgamation they needed to stop now.

Kenshi Takahashi…

In your time of need, the Taira will not fail you.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

"Well... Clearly, I underpaid for that. Did you know it could do that?"

"The legends never mentioned mystical powers. The souls of my ancestors live within it... They intend to guide me."

"Just don’t forget who gave it to you, Takahashi."

"I swear on my life, Cage. I won’t."

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

They were close to the portal, every battle they’d fought was won and all they had to do now was run as fast as they can from Sun Do’s forces. Quan-Chi may have escaped but what mattered more was their own withdrawal, back to Earthrealm, back to Liu Kang.

Johnny had given him Sento, with all that they went through together, and Kenshi could see it exactly, what he would do with the Taira’s ancestral sword guiding his clan out of the yakuza, freeing them, and being by Johnny’s side as they rebuilt their lives together-

"Run, Kenshi!"

Syzoth, Kung Lao and Ashrah made it past the glowing mist of the portal gate, disappearing to the other side and no doubt Kenshi knows when Liu Kang learns from them all that this mission, that yielded neither Shang Tsung nor Quan-Chi, cost the eyesight of one of his champions-

"Get them!"

"Johnny, we’re almost there!"

He refused to look back, he was sure they would make it, he was a hand outstretched away, the other holding Johnny’s-

Krakk!

Kenshi abruptly stopped dead in his tracks.

His hearing was deafened by the sharp sound of breaking bone.

He had to look back-

Slowly, agonizingly, his stomach dropped in what must have been a second to take in the sight-

Johnny raised his hand to grasp Reiko’s spear pierced through his chest, blood spilling out in a gasp. The blindfolded star took a step back from the strike, staggering.

No, no-

Outworld’s forces were closing the distance and Kenshi couldn’t move, he can’t, he has to-

Johnny, through the excruciating pain, smiled at him.

"See ya, Kenshi. Don’t forget to live, okay?"

Then before he could stop him, Johnny kicked him in the chest, sending Kenshi through the portal to Earthrealm and on the floor-

"Johnny, NO!"

And the last thing he saw before Liu Kang’s fire brought him back, was Johnny turning to face General Shao and his soldiers charging at him, the superstar smirking as he took his last stand.

─────────ೋღ 🥀 ღೋ─────────

After he had yelled his entire heart out, he began sobbing and weeping at the pain of losing a friend.

The weather must have known what he was feeling right now in this very moment. Because when he screamed his lungs and vocal cords out, thunder had struck next to him.

Another one of his loved ones..

Dead.

Just like Suchin.

Just like his mother.

Just like his father.

The gods must be punishing him for his sins as an assassin and working as a member of the yakuza.

"Kuso… Zenbu watashi no seida… Warui no wa watashida… Watashi ga subekidatta nda!" He whispered then yelled at himself.

Kenshi continued his mantra of survivor's guilt and self-loathing, uncaring about the violent rain hitting his back, until he noticed something shiny on the now muddy ground.

A dogtag.

His eye brows furrowed and he grabbed it and wiped the mud off.

The text on the dogtag brought more tears to his eyes.

JOHNNY CAGE

Blood: YOURS

Religion: CAGE

Johnny must have thrown it into the portal before it closed and before he was brutally killed. Johnny had told him about how his mother had this dogtag custom made for him as a birthday gift.

He brought the dogtag to his chest, right where his heart is, and clutched onto it like it was the most precious thing in the world. Because it is, his blood is on your hands and this dogtag is the only thing left of him.

Kenshi put the dogtag on and stood up. He wiped the tears from his eyes and started making his way towards the academy.

═════════•°•⚠•°•═════════

Kenshi entered the academy, not caring about the fact he was soaking wet, and was instantly greeted by several familiar face.

Kung Lao was the first to notice him. But he also noticed another thing.

"Kenshi, where's Johnny?"

Tears welled up in Kenshi's eyes again and he looked down at the ground and shook his head.

Silence.

Everyone knew what had happened.

Johnny is dead.

"H-how?-" Raiden attempted to ask but was interrupted by Kenshi.

"Stabbed through the chest by Reiko's spear." Kenshi's voice was hard and stern, clearly it intimidated everyone.

Or rather, nearly everyone.

Bi-Han walked towards him with his brothers attempting to stop him.

"Brother, please-" Kuai Liang tried.

Bi-Han walked up close to him and growled in his ear. "What did you just say?..." Bi-Han's voice was deeper and more intimidating than usual.

"I said, Johnny was stabbed through the heart by Reiko."

Bi-Han got even closer and more quietly whispered.

"You swore you would protect him. That you would bring him back me and his daughter."

Kenshi did swear that and he failed to fulfill that promise.

Having had enough, Kenshi walked past Bi-Han while aggressively and purposefully bumped his shoulder against Bi-Han's own.

When he passed Liu Kang, he brushes his cold wet sleeve against Liu Kang's.

Now, there was only one other person to face.

Cassandra Carlton "Cassie" Cage.

----AUTHOR'S NOTE----

Now I will admit, I've never written angst before but this was actually pretty good! And remember those coldstar headcanons centered around smut? That was my first time writing smut too!

Next will write about coldstar's first kiss and then Johnny's revival!

#johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #angst #angst with no happy ending #hurt no comfort #backgroud coldstar

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clonelyhours · 8 months

Text

Stay With Me

Pairing(s): Tech x gn! Reader

tags/warning: angst, major character death

Word count: 1k

heavily inspired by the death at the end of TASM 2

"Come on Tech!" Wrecker shouted. "Hurry!"

"I am climbing," Tech struggled. "as fast as I can."

"Get him up here, Wrecker!" You started barking orders. "Now! We don't have much time!"

You tried to catch a glimpse of Tech, but it was no use. There was too much metal in the way but not enough cover from the blaster fire.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter grumbled as he took cover. You all needed to get out of there now, or you'd all die.

Echo moved from his cover spot and returned fire at the enemies, stealing a quick glance at the track above him. "The car's being ripped from the track!"

You were at a stalemate. The car wouldn't move with the broken half pulling it down, and none of you would do anything about it until Tech was on board. "Wrecker, you gotta hurry it up!" You told him.

You too, began to return fire with Echo, Hunter soon joining.

"Wrecker!" Hunter snapped. "Get him onboard!"

Wrecker took a hesitant step forward, quickly stepping back when the car began to rumble.

"Don't!" Tech shouted from where he hung. "Any shift in weight could send both of these cars over!"

"Then keep climbing, Tech!" Hunter took cover once more. "I'll shoot you a line as soon as you get close enough!"

The sound of imperial ships echoed in the sky. You heart nearly sank as soon as you saw them. "We've got ships inbound!"

One of the ships fired at the track, the car dropping a bit. There wasn't much left that you could do. "Hang on Tech! I'm coming down!"

"No! Don't!" He insisted, hanging on as tight as he could to his line. "You must sever the connection hinge!"Now!"

"Not until you're up here!" Wrecker argued back. "I'm not gonna lose another one of ya!"

The second ship shot at the track again, the car shifting tremendously.

"There is no time, Wrecker." He withdrew his blaster from its holster and aimed up. "Plan 99."

"Plan 99?!" Your head snapped down at Tech, eyes wide. "Tech you can't!"

Wrecker was determined to bring his brother up. He grabbed the half of the falling car and attempted to pull it up. "Don't you do it Tech!" Wrecker begged.

"There has to be another way!" You cried out. "Think for a second!"

He sighed and took a deep breath, aiming at the perfect spot to sever the broken half of the car. "When have we ever followed orders?" He shot right at the sweet spot, finally freeing the good part of the car from the bad part.

For a second, Wrecker thought he could handle the weight.

But then he failed. The heap of metal slipped from his grasp and went falling down. "No!"

You wasted no time going after him. With one blaster you shot the grapple at the platform and attached the other side to your belt. You immediately jumped down after Tech, your second blaster in hand and ready to shoot it's grapple towards him.

He stared up at you, his hands subconsciously extending towards you. He was glad you couldn't see his face behind his helmet— he was scared— scared to die.

At least he was able to see your sweet beautiful face one last time.

"I love you Y/N!"

Leave it to Tech to admit his feelings that the wrong time. You'd make sure to tease him about it later.

"Grab on!" You shot the second line to him. He caught the end and attached it to his own belt, attempting to grab the line with his hands for more support.

He was going to make it, he had to— but then he didn't.

You were yanked upward by the first line and the second had shot out too long.

And because of the extra few inches of line that shot from your blaster, his body hit the ground with a thud, instantly lifeless.

And you saw the whole thing. You were too late. You couldn't save him in time.

In a matter of seconds you would be whipped away by the car you were still attached to. Swiftly, you took your first blaster and released the line, falling only a few feet to the ground. You wasted no time getting up on your knees and crawling over to him. "Hey, hey..." you hesitantly slipped a hand under his lower back and lifted him up. "Tech?"

This couldn't be for nothing. He had to be alive.

"Tech." You pulled him into your laps, tears swelling in your eyes and your voice cracking. "Breath... Tech, breath. You're okay."

With your free hand, you careful removed his helmet and set it aside. You then pushed his now cracked goggles to his temple, your heart breaking as you discovered the tears in the corners of his eyes. "Tech... stay with me, please stay with me. Stay with me!"

You gently wiped his tears away as yours rushed down your cheeks. "Tech..." you cried "Tech! No please! Please!" Your forehead rested against his goggles, eyes squeezing shut. "Please..." you begged once more. "Stay with me, Tech."

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, hoping that maybe he would just wake up. Tech couldn't die like this, he couldn't. Not when he deserved a long and happy life, not when the Bad Batch had finally found a peaceful blade to live on Pabu— not when he had finally admitted his feeling for you moments before.

It wasn't fair.

Tech deserved to rest, but not like this. He deserved to live his life in peace, he deserved to watch that beautiful sunset every single night— he deserved to hold you in his arms every single night— because that's exactly what he had wanted.

To settle down with you.

But now he never could.

When you pulled away, you began sobbing, holding onto him so tight that you were afraid he would disappear if you didn't. You would stay there day and night if it meant not leaving his side, but unfortunately, the empire had other plans.

"I love you too, Tech."

#Star Wars #star wars the bad batch #star wars tbb #sw tbb #tbb tech #tech #tech x reader #tech x you #tech x y/n #angst #plan 99 #clone force 99

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aikofanfan · 2 years

Text

I don’t know what to call this it’s just MC being protective and feral pt 2

A/N: Do the bros really need protection? No probably not. Do I care? Also no. I write MC op as hell so therefore they can and will deck a demon in the jaw if one messes with their guys.

Warnings and more notes: MC gets called “sir” in Asmo’s part but it’s gn so bloop. Some blood mention in Belphie’s part.

Part 1!

Side Characters!

Barbatos!

Luke!

~~~~~~~

Asmodeus

WHAM!

“MC!”

“What?”

Asmo isn’t sure if he should be mad or impressed or possibly turned out. Maybe all three just to be safe.

You had tagged along with Asmo to shop and some rich lookin snob of a demon was flirting Asmo up, offering him this modeling job or some crap. Normally you’d let it slide. He’s a popular guy but the more this jerk spoke the more your blood boiled and well here you are.

You punched the guy in the gut and he’s curled up on the ground.

“Hand must’ve slipped. My fault.” You sigh and help him up. But keep a grip on his arm for a moment. “Be grateful you piece of shit. If I hear you make one more comment about him being a walking fuck toy I’ll rip your tongue out. Ya hear me?”

“Yes sir!” He nods and you let him go. He quickly gives Asmo his number and runs away.

“Honestly MC. This is nothing new to me. I am the avatar of lust.” Asmo sighs dramatically.

“You are more than some title, Asmo!” You hiss. “You maybe the personification of the sin but there’s more to you than just that!”

You pick up a bag you had dropped and wrap your free arm around him, give him a kiss on the forehead.

“Devildom can freeze over before I let people treat you like some toy.” You mumble to him.

~~~~~

Beelzebub

Beel is a big guy. No duh. But unless given a reason he doesn’t really say or do much. Well unless he’s hungry. Duh.

Which makes you jump to defend him much more. Like right now.

Even in the Devildom there’s always those group of girls that gotta have a comment on everybody.

“Careful there, hot stuff. I’d hate for all that food to effect your looks!” One demon girl laughs.

“I work out. So I’m not worried.” Beel states.

“But how can you keep a routine with all this food you eat????”

“Well I-”

“Not to mention all the sweets!”

“I-”

“All this junk food is going to catch up to you, you know.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP”

You appear behind Beel in a flash when these group of girls crowd around him in the cafeteria. They flinch and step back, recognizing very quickly who you are by the wrathful green glow of your eyes.

“Mind your damn business before I send you back to the plastic surgeon where your faces came from!” You growl, cracking your knuckles to make a point. They freak out and run away without a fight thankfully. You watch them go before checking on Beel.

“You okay?” You ask, sitting beside him. “If they hurt your feelings-!”

“I’m fine, MC.” He smiled. “Don’t go getting into a fight because of me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You grin.

~~~~~~~

Belphegor

Unlike the other six. Belphie will actually come to you when someone makes a mean comment about him. Then greatly enjoy the show when you track them down.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?!” Luke gawks as he and Belphie watch you fight a demon in the RAD hallways.

“Mmm in a second.” Belphie yawns but the younger Angel saw the amusement in his eyes. When the avatar of sloth sees blood is when he wakes up more and pulls you off the other student. Who’s blood? Not sure. The other student just laid there, not passed out or anything more shocked that he got his ass kicked by a human it seemed.

“Okay MC, that’s enough.” Belphie hums. You stop growling and calm down, spitting blood out of your mouth and fix your uniform when he lets you go.

“You’re the one who told me about it.” You huff.

“Yeah but I’d never hear the end of it if you got seriously hurt because I like watching you get angry.” Belphie shrugs then realized what he just said.

“You what?” You ask with a smirk. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

#nerd speaks #nerd of the blog #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #asmodeus x mc #beelzebub x mc #belphegor x mc #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me hcs #obey me drabble #obey me x gn!mc

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seraphfighter · 21 hours

Text

15 Lines Game

Tagged by @totentnz and @glitchinginthegarden <3 This was surprisingly harder than I thought it would be lol

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well. I'm hijacking this addition because it's really fun -> if you wanna you can send me one of these and i will give you context/ a snipped of what it is from! (you could also guess the context if you like!)

Of course, all of these lines are from Val.

"And how many times do I have to say we need to have this conversation? I’m being realistic. We don’t know if I’m going to survive this.”

“What? Are we resorting to fuckin’ like joytoys in a rented room now?”

“I still feel like this is all just a fever dream and I’m going to wake up and be shoved back into the nightmare.”

“I’d rather die than crawl back to you.”

“And I’m going to puke if I have to look at your face for another second. You’re free to go.”

“Nice one, smartass. Do you want a gold star for that? I meant where did you get these? Half of them are barely holding together.”

“Be like what, Johnny? How the fuck do you expect me to act? Ain’t exactly like we parted on good terms.”

“Don’t you ever fucking speak his name again. I’ll rip this goddamn chip out and kill us both. Do you understand?”

“Listen, you’re welcome to stock the bar with all the alcohol you want. Otherwise, stop bitching.”

“Nobody even uses pennies anymore."

“I fled my own party all because of some words a merc said. Seems pretty fuckin’ stupid to me.”

"Absolutely not, that's hideous."

“If I'm staying then we gotta do something about this because I am not drinking black coffee every day.”

“I grew up on the streets. Looking pretty wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities.”

“I ain't exactly a saint myself. Fuck, I kill and steal for a living."

No pressure tagging: @tarmac-rat, @streetkid-named-desire, @merge-conflict, @bloodydragam and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it!

#doing this made me realize how i really need to write val with characters that aren't johnny lmao #tag game #ch: valerie ramirez

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ladyanidala · 6 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

@sleepingbeauty21 thank you for tagging me!! This looks like a lot of fun!! :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

46! (That's wild, dude)

2. What's your total A03 word count?

Total AO3 word count is 127,857.

3. What fandom's do you write for?

Almost all of my fics are for Star Wars, but I do have four that are in the Attack on Titan fandom! (Still gotta watch the end of the show, rip)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

We're Not Needed Here - 709 kudos (oh crack fic, my beloved <3)

Her Step Forward - 155 kudos (this is my first published fic on AO3, and I love it, even if I'd rewrite it differently now, haha)

(Galactic) History in the Making - 125 kudos (this is an Obitine proposal fic! Qui-Gon meddles too, and it makes me happy)

Though Darkness May Be Our Companion, I Will Watch Over You - 121 kudos (this is a Merrical fic that I wrote after I either finished playing or watching a gameplay of Jedi: Fallen Order. I love those babies :') )

Sparring with Buir - 110 kudos (Korkie and Obi-Wan spar after reuniting on Mandalore.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I like to interact with everyone who reads my stories. I like building community!!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oooooh, that's a hard one. I don't write super angsty endings, bc everyone deserves a happy ending, dangit, but the one fic that does foot the bill is Ghost Star, Are You Very Far? This is a fic centered around Kata Akuna and her love for stories. Sounds cute, yeah, but BROOOO there's some angst in there, I promise.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The happiest ending? That's a hard one as well. The one I love the most is Tequila. Very cracky, and very fun to write.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, not really (and that's not an invitation to start, lol)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No, I don't write literary pornography. It's all kinds of damaging to your brain (see increased anxiety and depression rates) as well as the rest of the body (see erectile dysfunction). Click here if you want to see more of my reasons.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No, I don't. My brain honestly has such a hard time making characters from different universes meet like that. They stay separate in my head XD

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! (And again, not an invitation to start XD)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! The beautiful @sleepingbeauty21 is translating We're Not Needed Here. Check out No Nos Necesitan Aqui!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Kinda?? My brother helps me out and writes some things in my fics sometimes, but I've never done an intentional co-authored fic before.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Anidala, hands down. I love them so much :')

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I doubt that all my WIPs will get finished, does that count? XD

In all seriousness, my very first WIP - that's still unpublished - is sitting in my docs folder, just begging me to write more, but I feel like I'm at an impasse. I don't know where to go from where I stopped, haha.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Ummmmm, my ability to keep characters in character when I write crack??? Idk, dude, I just put stuff on a page and people like it enough XD

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I definitely don't describe things as well as I want to. I often feel like I'm jumping from point to point in my writing without connecting it on paper. It all connects in my head, but it comes out clunky on paper.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Would that I could :') I'd LOVE to become fluent in German or Spanish one day and write a fic!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars!!

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Oh, dang, that's hard XD Ask me to pick a favorite child, why don't you? :P For the sake of finishing this, I choose Tequila again, lol. I love it so much XD

Tagging: @screwtornadowarningsimsouthern, @clawedandcute, and anyone else who wants to join, I don't speak to too many people on here XD

#star wars #fanfic #fanfic writer #ao3 #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #obitine #kata akuna #merrical #calmerrin #jedi survivor #nightsister merrin #cal kestis #padme amidala #anidala #tag game #this was fun

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awaytobeunshaken · 7 months

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Spinning Through Stardust (2613 words) by awaytobeunshaken

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ashton Greymoore/Orym, Fresh Cut Grass & Ashton Greymoore, Ashton Greymoore & Milo Krook Characters: Ashton Greymoore, Orym (Critical Role), Milo Krook, Fresh Cut Grass (Critical Role) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Space Opera, Futuristic with Magic It was supposed to be a basic cargo run. Drop shit off, get paid. Instead, Ashton's stranded on a moon at the ass-end of space, smashed half to bits with only their engineer for company.

Orym's been wandering the galaxy on his own since the attack that killed his husband. The work he's been doing for Lord Eshteross hasn't quite given him back a sense of purpose, but he'll settle for direction and companionship.

It seems like just chance that allowed them to meet. But what is chance, really, if not the culmination of all that came before.

Prologue: Abandon Ship "What the helling fuck?” Ashton shouted, mostly to himself, as he made his way down to the cargo hold among the debris that had once been his pride and joy. Up until whatever anomaly they’d jumped into had ripped half its systems apart and sent its crew scattering. “Milo!” they yelled, thankful to at least have personal comms. “Tell me you have some good news.” “There’s no way I’m gonna get these engines stabilized before they blow. We’ve gotta get out of here.” That was a ‘no’ then. “Just buy me a few more minutes,” Ashton replied, hoping his voice was still audible over the fizzling and hissing of the door panel leading to the hold. Half the shit in there was already trashed, but if they could at least salvage something it might still be okay. After all, it wasn’t his fault. That would mean something to most people. But Jiana Hexum had a reputation; she wasn’t an easy person to work for, but it meant she paid well if you needed some quick cash. It also meant she wasn’t someone you wanted to cross, even on accident. They were still trying to stack a few crates on the hover dolly when the explosion hit, sending Ashton flying across the hold, grasping for the contents of the now shattered crates as they flew with him. He didn’t recall much after that. Pain, mostly. Especially in their head. Begging Milo to leave without him, that maybe if he went down with the ship, Hexum wouldn’t concern herself with the rest of them. Milo ignoring them, scooping debris from the floor, then dragging them through the ship, Ashton clutching… something to their chest with one arm, the other… draped across Milo’s shoulder, they supposed. Funny how he couldn’t feel that arm at all. And then Milo finally, blessedly shoving them into the last escape pod—they left us one, that’s nice—and shooting it off into space. Milo’s voice, begging him, “Stay awake, Ashton. Please, just stay with me.” And they tried. Ashton Greymoore, who made it a point not to get played by anyone’s emotions, was also not gonna back down from a challenge. “C’mon Ash, please, just talk to me.” “I—” But that was as far as they got. Breathing was hard. Words were harder. Milo was keeping one eye fixed on Ashton even as they dug through the pod’s medkit. They didn’t think he could do it. So he would. Just keep his eyes open. Keep taking one raggedy breath at a time. Just keep his eyes

Chapter 1 on ao3

#critical role #cr3 #alternate universe #space au #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #ashrym #cr fic #my fic

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jimmyandthegiraffes · 3 months

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Fic Writing Review 2023 🌈

Thank you sm @itwoodbeprefect for the tag!!!

I hardly published anything this year so if u wanna skip to 'projects for 2024' that's gonna be the most interesting bit >.<

Words and Fics (on ao3) 📚

words posted: 714 💀 but many more words were written, just not posted lol fics posted: 1 first fic/last fic 😅: King of the Eyesores - Doctor Who (1963)

Ships and Fandoms ⚓

Doctor Who - no ships really but KotE is Mike Yates-centric.

Top 5 Fics by Kudos 🏆

It's KotE again lol which is at 6 kudos. Of all time, tho:

After the Hour(glass) - Night at the Museum (Jedtavius)

Less Than Ideal Circumstances - The Man from UNCLE (TV) (Napollya)

When They Sleep - The Man from UNCLE (TV)

Dismiss Your Fears - Back to the Future

After All, I'm Only Sleeping - Doctor Who (1963)

Top 5 Favorite Fics 💖

KotE......... I do actually rly enjoy KotE I think it has potential in terms of where it's going. But since I only posted one fic in 2023, I'll do my top 5 of fics I've ever posted. Apart from the first one this is in no particular order

tickertape - The A-Team (TV) it's my baby it's all I thought about for months of my life, it's like an iceberg (i.e. most of it is in my WIP doc, and only a tiny fraction is published so far), it got me thru a difficult time, it's an exploration of mental illness and complicated messy relationships expressed in epic format (i.e. it's probably gonna be novel length when it's done)

Bullet Number Six - Starsky & Hutch (TV) it received criticism for being obscure and hard to follow bc it switches pov briefly halfway thru but idc i love it anyway

I Gotta Right to Sing the Blues - The A-Team (TV) it was my first A-Team fic and I still think for a beginner it nailed some p realistic in-character dialogue and addressed an undertone I wished I'd seen addressed in the ep it's a coda to.

When They Sleep - The Man from UNCLE (TV) it's kind of riddled with certain mannerisms of my slightly older writing which I personally find a bit annoying and have worked to iron out for the sake of elegance over the years. but I still think it's a cool little exploration of all my sleep headcanons for the pair of them in one place

King of the Eyesores - Doctor Who (1963) see it made it to the list after all! I kinda like it more for its potential than for what it is right now butttttt who cares.

special mention to Unbereft (Starsky & Hutch) which I really really like but I wrote it in one frenzied sitting and only remembered after I'd posted it that it was very like someone else's fic I'd read several years previously. I don't think it's too much like to be taken down and I've since mentioned the writer of the other fic (it was dawnwind, hello!) in the notes. that's the only reason unbereft isn't in my top 5 because I'm otherwise really proud of how well it's written. Not to tootle on my own trumpet.

Fandom fic events

none RIP but maybe this year!!

Projects for 2024

Okay here we goooooooooooo

priority 1 is to finish the unfinished works that I've already half posted: King of the Eyesores, Every Line A Comedy, OUTATIME, The Windhover, tickertape, The Hanoi Bank Job and Other Misadventures, 38 Hours. Bolded are my top priorities.

other works that I'm writing but which haven't seen the light of day at all yet:

Dear Mike - an epistolary between Jo Grant and Mike Yates following her marriage to Cliff Jones.

The Lark/Behind That Locked Door (working titles) - a 30-chapter 2/Jamie fic about season 6B in which Jamie suffers permanent memory problems after the War Games. It explores grief, social ostracism, feeling abandoned, undirected anger, guilt, and acceptance that healing sometimes is a process that is never complete. I've been working on it since about 2016 lol but I'm lazy I just need to press on.

hell valley au - as yet untitled lol. In which the Hell Valley!Marty (who is never seen in BTTF2 as he is in Switzerland) and Hell Valley!Doc (who has been institutionalized) break out of their respective situations and go on the run together. But there's a problem - they had to leave Einstein behind, and when they get information that Einie is to be used for a dogfight, they make the risky decision to go back to Hill Valley to rescue him. However, going back to the place they just escaped by the skin of their teeth also brings them face to face with the last person they expect to meet.

a changed man (working title) - a Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased) fic from Jeannie's pov. mostly it's about their picnic excursions but it's also about Jeannie wishing Marty wasn't such an elephant in the room

mfu/rahd xover (untitled) - the first chapter of this is almost ready to go tbh. it's what it says on the tin lol, Napoleon and Illya go to London and get help from a rather eccentric private detective who has uncanny powers of solving impossible cases but also they think is probably clinically insane

to see him happy - VERY weird rahd fic. it's smut but its also about grief. might never post it because several of my family members have access to my tumblr and therefore my ao3 lol they dont need to see that

the winter of '62 - a study of jeff and marty's life when they lived together in a grotty bedsit and couldnt afford to put the heating on

star wars (untitled) - set during ROTJ, han pov. han's lost a lot of time and now everyone is one step ahead of him which isn't a sensation he's used to

skyrissian - what it says on the tin lol

the older gen (untitled) - jeeves fic about bertie's aunts and uncles and parents as they were as they variously grew up, got married, had children, died (or didn't), fell prey to alcoholism or insanity or petty crime, went to war, prospered (or didn't)... This is pretty unlikely to be finished this year tbh as it's very detailed but I can dream

a couple of long form fics about starsky & hutch and mfu respectively (the s&h one is set post sweet revenge, the mfu one takes place at various moments throughout the show)

x-files series - canon compliant until paperclip and then gradually diverges into how i think the show should have gone lol. another biggie

and a handful of tintin fics that im protective of and might never post but we'll see - one where tintin and chang go on holiday in london after picaros, one where the gang encounters rajaijah one last time (featuring a letter from didi, chang making a very daring crossing at the songolese border, and tintin taking about ten years to chop up a clove of garlic), and one where tintin gets shitfaced at an embassy ball and accidentally starts an Incident. haddock looks on, appalled.

i knoooooooooooooooowww this is a lot but i'm not realistically hoping to finish it all this year but it's nice to have lots of things to play around with lol.

unfortunately i have the eternal problem of not ever knowing which of my mutuals write fic and which of those havent already been tagged but imma tag @theteaisaddictive and genuinely if u see this and u write fic ur tagged i want to knowwwwwwwwwwwww <333

#tag #doctor who #the a team #starsky and hutch #tintin #tag game #jamie mccrimmon #randall and hopkirk deceased #bttf #mike yates

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