#the good doctor offers him some ‘animal meat’

[doveinruins]

deranged scientist who will stop at nothing for the results they desire x carnivorous experiment who’s not the same human they were before meeting the scientist. in fact, they’re not even sure if human anymore.

[retiredteabag]

An Uninformed Narrative

Synopsis: You had lived in Stardew Valley for a year before you met the hunter from the adventures guild, Sukuna Itadori. It did not take long for him to catch your attention but you couldn't help feeling as if his affection resided anywhere but you.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

This is a Sukuna stardew valley au, heavily inspired by @tearzintheclub's similar series with butcher!sukuna, I highly recommend reading their work, they are super kind and were a big motivation for me to make this!

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been dying for a decade before coming to the valley, still, unmercifully, alive. The bitter years you spent milling away on a computer, endless days blurring onto the next. A monotonous cycle of tireless work for a corporation that left you unfulfilled, complacent, and depressed. Holed up in a city you did not even like.

It was corrosive, only now, a year later, could you look back and realize that life didn't begin for you until you moved to your grandfather's farm.

It had been hard work. You knew it would be. Still, the labor it took to keep up with crops and farm animals had been more than you anticipated. But you had friends now, and goals. And that was more valuable than anything.

One year ago, when you came to the valley, romance was quite possibly the last thing occupying your mind. Only now, being able to comfortably settle into your home, could you allow yourself to think about things other than the prosperity of your land and the health of your animals.

That brings us to now.

You had read books about the Stardew Valley mines back in the mountains north of town. Harvey, the village doctor, had warned you of its treacherous depths. Having focused most of your efforts on farm/house maintenance, you had not traversed into dangerous territory beyond upgrading your tools and acquiring bug meat.

This is why, after a whole year of living in the valley, you were surprised to receive a notice in your mailbox from "The Adventurers Guild", an initiation of sorts, requesting you to slay 10 slimes to be granted entry.

You had thought about it all evening. By the next morning, you felt up for the challenge. After taking care of the chores you left you made your way up past the carpenter's shop, dropped off a fish you caught the night before to your friend Linus, and entered the mines.

It had been scary but you protected yourself well and acquired some gems and geodes to show for it. It was late when you made the trek home, but you were determined to enter the adventurers guild the next day.

It had been a delight to meet Gil and Marlon, the two men who ran the guild. They sold weapons and protective gear, offered rewards for monster slaying, and purchased monster loot. Still having some on you, you traded them in for the cash. With a smile on your face, you decided to go into town to buy some icecream for Yuuji, Jas, and Vincent.

Penny, the town's teacher, had the kids in the museum for lessons until 2 PM, so you traveled quickly to meet them in time.

Penny was always a delight. Kind to everyone, even if they did not deserve it. She was so good with the kids as well, and dedicated much of her time to their education.

You had met Penny just a few days after moving to the town at the local flower shop in the Cidersap Forest. You had learned she was quite fond of Poppy flowers and the owner of the little place, Jin Itadori, was unbelievably generous, always interested in hearing about your farm, and always willing to give out a flower or two.

Yuuji, being the florist's son and Penny's student, became a quick friend of yours and always wanted to talk whenever you came by the shop. Of course, you never minded and listened intently whenever the boy felt like sharing a fun fact about the flora in his home.

--

Time passed with the changing of the seasons and it wasn't long before fall was upon you.

Ever since entering the mines and joining the Adventures guild, you have been thinking about the quests Marlon and Gil have sent you on. Though it is dangerous, scouring the mines for the flesh of monsters, it brings you a thrill to know you are doing something good for the community.

A post had gone up on the community board in town about collecting bat wings and bringing the population down to a manageable level the other day, and in your spare time, you had been working on completing the quest.

It was late one night when you began to make your way back up to the mountains from the mine's elevator, you had quite the collection and enough time to sell it at the Guild before making your way home.

"You've been keepin' busy." Marlon greeted you as the wind pushed the door open along with your arm.

You smile at the man, unloading the backpack of your finds. "Well there's always something to do around here." you reply.

"True as the day is long...." Gil rocked back and forth in his chair, pretending to hear your conversation.

"I must say I'm glad to have you 'round. The quest board in town seems to be worked through much faster now." Marlon takes the post you handed him and the 200 bat wings, he was just about to hand you the payment when the door to the Guild swung open.

The hinges seemed to rattle with the shock of the large man's blow of it. He's huffing, yanking a balaclava up and over his face.

He has thick, pink hair and bright red eyes, he's enormous, having to duck just a bit so as not to hit his head on the door frame.

You looked at him, a bit shocked at his garish entrance. He looks so familiar, but his face is covered in tattoos. A unique style you've never seen before, certainly not in Stardew Valley

Despite being at the counter yourself, the lumbering man strides right up next to you, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. And just then, you have a thought.

Was he doing town board requests too? He was clearly not from the village, you would have met him by now. But Marlon does not spare him much of a glace, even when a stack of bones and a collection of rings is placed on his counter.

"Those damn haunted skulls are somethin' else." The man looks at Marlon with a gaze of distaste but the Guild leader just laughs. The large man doesn't look at you once.

Despite the chill of fall present in the air, he has sweat glistening on his exposed neck, he runs a hand through his hair and you can't help but notice how handsome this man is. The only thing, who was he? And why was he monster hunting in the Valley's mines?

"You got a problem?" Shocked from your thoughts, you look up. You hadn't meant to stare but upon his antagonized question your eyes bulge a bit.

"No! No, no, sorry..." You turn away, collecting the gold Marlon left out for you, ready to turn and leave when the man behind the counter made a gesture with his hand.

He called your name, "This is Sukuna, likely haven't met em' have ya? He's real reserved and all."

So he lives here? How could that be? "Oh, it's nice to meet you!" You go to shake his hand but he just looks you up and down, effectively dissuading that desire.

"So you're the rookie taking all the board requests in town, hmm?" He looks so domineering, still, even having just met him, you can reasonably assume that's just what his face looks like.

You shuffle where you stand, "Er... maybe so, yes... I'm sorry, I didn't know that was your area..." You wave your hand to the array of loot he had seemingly just acquired. He scoffs.

Marlon looks to you, "Sukuna is our most tenured monster hunter-"

Gil interjects from his rocking chair, "If ever there's a board request this here man can't handle, I know hell's right about frozen over."

The man before them did not crack a smile. A shiver went down your spine.

"I see, well, I live on the farm behind the Cidersap Forest-"

He cuts you off, looking almost annoyed, "I know who you are."

Oh.

Okay...

"Gotcha, sorry, well... it was nice meeting you." Sukuna stares at you for a moment before turning back to the Adventurers Guild leaders.

The awkwardness of the moment was painful, you already know youll be obsessing over this first impression for the next month or so and your shaking leg is telling you it is time to escape the embaressment before this man shuts down any more small talk.

You wonder if perhaps Sukuna is upset with you for "taking his job". Or maybe he had a bad day. If he really had been hunting Haunted Skulls, he had probably been dangerously deep in the mines.

Even though his gaze had been piercing, his frown looked permanent, and his tattoos gave off a highly intimidating look. You could tell there had been no malice behind his demeanor. And that, would be a small comfort as you mulled your way through the darkness.

You spent the whole walk home thinking about the large man. You had been everywhere in Stardew Valley yet had never met him.

He must live out of town, you thought as you checked the weather for tomorrow.

Rain. That meant another day in the mines. You needed an upgrade on your equipment if you were going to continue supplying for your growing crops' demands. That meant plunging deeper into the depths of the mine.

Sleep pulled at you even still, just as your eyes fell shut the memory of the pink-haired man popped back up into your brain.

His shirt stuck nauseatingly to his toned chest, his neck glimmering in the firelight of the guild, and those eyes. The red, sharp eyes he had looked you up and down with.

"I know who you are."

It was a small town. Even if you were from the outskirts. It was a shame though... having not met the man before... he certainly seemed interesting.

You shook the man from your thoughts as your dog climbed into the bed and the two of you began to doze off.

Unknown to you, a long and unexpected day awaited you at dawn.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

How would the yanderes react to reader having super bad anxiety?

-😶‍🌫️anon

I didn't know if you wanted generic yandere subtypes, or specific characters, so I just chose a few of my favorite OCs!

Listed from (arguably) best yandere to worst (when it comes to dealing with anxiety) Some NSFW towards the bottom ❤️

Kirtch (10/10) expert

❤️ Knows all about anxiety (he is an expert an humans)

✨ Might seem a little cold, but that's because he will go into immediate nerd doctor mode

❤️ He would prefer to solve your anxiety issues without the use of the collar

✨ So expect a lot of pampering and note taking, presenting you with different solutions he's read about in outdated psychiatry books while watching you diligently

❤️ Baths with snacks and deep breathing exercises

✨ Would neglect his duties for you, and when you eventually look to be doing better, he's baby monitoring your room so he can leave work the moment you look like you need him <3

Lydia (9/10) too clingy

❤️ Undead, weighted blanket

✨ She doesn't understand what "anxiety" is, but knows it makes you look sad? Scared?

❤️ She doesn't like it, and it makes her mad that she can't kill it for you

✨ Since you won't tell her how to fix it, she keeps you inside the apartment

❤️ Expect a lot of kisses, everywhere

✨ The second it looks like you're hyperventilating, she's wrapped around your torso like a monkey, squeezing you as tightly as she can

❤️ She'll whisper words of love and affirmation into your ear as she constrains you, until you finally calm down

✨ Even after you calm down she'll still cling to you, murmuring (more to herself) about how sweet and lovely you are

Baby (7/10) what anxiety?

❤️ The second there was even a flash of adrenaline, that weird tingle that races down your spine, before your heart even starts to speed up: Baby would shut it down

✨ What anxiety?

❤️ He's literally controlling your mind at every second

✨ You don't need to worry; about anything

❤️ Unlike Kirtch who hesitates to use the collar, Baby has no issues manipulating your brain's chemistry

✨ And he sees nothing wrong with it, because it's all for keeping you happy <3

❤️ Of course, it'd make Baby a little upset that the anxiety showed up at all..

✨ But he can fix it

❤️ So don't worry <3

Cain (5/10) short fuse

❤️ His emotions (although oft hidden) always takes precedence over yours

✨ He understands what anxiety is, but because he's the type to kidnap his darling, he assumes the anxiety is his fault

❤️ and that pisses him off

✨ Assumes every and any negative emotion you feel is because of him, even if it's something you were diagnosed with long before the abduction

❤️ If he is feeling remorseful he may shift into a giant lynx to cuddle, trying to soothe you with his giant warm body

✨ If he's already upset he may respond in one of two ways:

❤️ Leaving you alone for hours to go hunting

✨ Fucking you into submission (if you're too exhausted to cry, that means he won, right?)

Xyleth (0/10) either the best or the worst...

❤️ It depends on if you need a distraction or if you're the type to need a calm environment

✨ Because his species doesn't experience anxiety, they'll treat you how they treat one of their own when they are feeling blue

❤️ And they only feel blue after losing a fight

✨ Xyleth would parade you around the village (even while shaking, hyperventilating, crying, hitting him..) so that everyone can "cheer you up"

❤️ Everyone would be passing around their favorite little human, petting your head and trying to gift you with weapons and meat

✨ Children would be offering to find you animals to kill

❤️ It would be overwhelming

✨ An entire community of monsters trying to cheer up their leader's mate, genuinely out of love

❤️ If receiving words of encouragement, affirmations (about your strength), and food help your anxiety, then Xyleth is 10/10

✨ If you need a quiet room with someone helping you with deep breathing and grounding, he's a -100/10

Now, honestly, a good chunk of the guys would not be good at all for anxiety, they don't even rate out of ten haha

Some of them are sadistic enough to purposefully try and trigger panic attacks when they learn you have anxiety, like the Living Death. Now, he's a pervert, but I feel like he would enjoy your anxiety because he could feel more in control of you; it would help him isolate you further. If he could manipulate you into never leaving his cabin, he'd be the happiest man on the seven seas

But some guys like Dr. Campbell would enjoy seeing you crumple before him for more nefarious reasons. I can imagine him mocking his darling as he fucks them, telling them how much he loves it when they act hysterical because they clench him so good. He's a complete sadist who would get turned on the second he knew he was the one causing his love anxiety. There would never be even a second of comfort for you in his home, Ichabod would do everything in his power to keep you on edge all the time.

And finally, my lovely bedbug monster ❤️ he definitely cares about you, but only in a primal sense. You are his mate, you shall carry his spawn, and you shall stay at his side. He wouldn't understand what anxiety is, since he keeps you in a constant state of pain and fear. Yeah, he may be cuddling your side, but you're never not covered in blood; and not all of it is your own. If you're struggling, it's no different than when he's tearing into your abdomen to pump children direction into your body ❤️

I hope your day is going well, and if you suffer from anxiety, I hope that your days are stress free, and that you're able to have a good week without anything triggering you ❤️ Sometimes, I get a random shake, a random rush of anxiety even when absolutely nothing has happened, so I know you can't avoid triggers all the time, sometimes anxiety just happens, but regardless, I hope that you can enjoy today anxiety free ❤️

[kit-williams]

Pastel Bats

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

There were pastel bats upon the walls... this was your new home as you looked down at the infant drinking from the bottle. The room was bright with soft yellow walls and cute looking animals painted upon them. Your humming paused for only a moment and you swear you can hear a distant scream. You look to the large door. You were well fed... you were safe in the nursery... and that was alright. "Such a big boy you are Amir." You coo down to the grey eyed baby.

How a gummy smile is around the teat of the bottle as he slams his little feet against the padded floor of the playpen. No longer content on being contained by any sort of bed for a less active baby... no no the small boy had decided that standing was fun and had taken one to many tumbles on his head meaning he had to go see the doctor.

His eyes still wet from his most recent crying fit as he was a needy little thing with such big demands who liked bananas and didn't like green beans... he wanted to be held to fall asleep... and... you just find yourself holding the little boy with the odd growths on his skin... his mouth hurting because he's teething... and he still growing. You just sigh picking up the impatient to grow up little man to go see the doctor.

You watch Anrir Nor work as the two servo skulls fluttered about... one above Amir just out of reach of his grabby little hands trying to pull on the cabling and thrash it around when he does succeed making the cutes little gurgles. The other keeping notes as you watch the robotic limbs on his back move to grab things or seem to move in an almost behavioral tick.

"Any worrying things you'd like to bring up today." He says akin to how a pediatrician would ask you wonder if he says it on purpose or is simply saying it to make fun of you.

"He's scratching a bit and causing cuts but... other wise it's fine."

You watch him sit Amir up as he listens to his hearts. His eyes closing as he listens. "The scratching is from the subdermal growth of black carapace so its normal." He says with medical precision.

----

That was weeks ago... as you lay in the playpen that you laid with Amir as you and the others here followed protocol and the kids were asleep... they just fell asleep so quickly... it didn't work on you. You had to sing to Amir to get him to settle in his little pod to let whatever was in there to work on him.

There are pastel bats upon the walls... food's run out and the door is locked so tightly as there was a pressure leak outside of this safe haven in hell. You were all going to starve to death looking at the pastel animals upon the walls....

----

"His egg doner died today." Anrir says muttering softly as he continues to check over Amir and give him his shots.

"Oh that's not... good?" You say unuse to him talking to you.

"Yes... but you seem to like Amir so how about a proposition?" He says and you see the wickedness of his grin and all you could think to say was...

"What is the offer?"

----

You killed someone today... he was trying to break one of the pods. You had enough strength to do something about it. You wandered over to Amir's pod to sing to him... ignoring the way how someone... or some others were shamelessly ripping into the body... you sang to him to drown out the sounds... you sang to him as someone came by with cooked meat... and bought into the lie of them finding some... it gave you enough strength to draw... and all your numb mind could draw were those damned pastel bats...

----

"What if I just tell you what you'll get out of it?" Anrir says which that dangerous purr... you shifted as you had learned... or well it was a rumor that this man was also the head of the warband you found yourself in service to. You watch him brush some of that silky black hair behind his ear. "You may talk freely if you need to hear me say that."

"I mean I'd like to hear that too but what do you want from me?"

"Your body my dear."

----

You stopped leaving Amir's side as you hardly had any strength left to do so... you were being fed enough to stay alive... just barely. Someone came by to say that there were people outside and it might be a few more days before they could leave... that or they could just be telling you how you were next to be eaten... you didn't know any more.

----

He told you what he wanted with medical precision as you feel the marker tip tickling your skin and the metal appendages on his back caging you in. But you'd get better rations... you'd get better things... better treatment... it was all very tempting... all for the low low price of your body.

"Why... what do you get out of this?" You ask the black eyed man who looked surprised you even asked.

"Do you want the long answer or the the short answer?"

You broke eye contact with him for a moment as you thought before speaking, "Long?"

"The short version of the long answer is... I'm tired of watching the legion that I love fall apart via treachery and cowardness. Your corpse emperor isn't the answer but neither is the Four. And loyalty is a fickle thing..."

"So you're raising those who would be loyal to you?"

He grinned so wickedly, "Smart girl. Plus I can instill them the meaning of the legion! While fixing a few things that... lets say our environment was lacking at crucial stages of development."

"Giving them something you lacked?"

"Exactly."

"Didn't know childhood development was part of your education."

"Its not I ordained myself to learn it after I decided to say 'fuck it' to my last warband. So... what do you say?"

----

You should have said yes... you think as you stare at the sleeping little boy... the only thing you latched onto in this hell that you were dragged into screaming. Given a baby boy to keep alive and told your survival was tied to his development.

The boom of the bolter causes you to jump as you feel something splatter against your back as red paints the glass of the pods and you struggle to sit up. You see the midnight blue armor something different from the soft pastels around.

"Aww you left a list of his likes." The skull faced mask looks down at you with glowing red eyes. "But did you think of my offer dear?"

You try to say something which causes him to lean in before picking you up and hearing you whisper. "Yes"

[milocaine]

The Hunter's Folly

Hi! Below is a snippet from a personal short story featuring my OC, Fenrir Zuldovah. Enjoy!

Lurking in the shroud of leaves offered by a bush at the base of a tree, Fenrir kept a watchful eye on one of the wild boar that called the wood their home. Being in season, the meats and pelts from an animal like this would fetch a good price at the weekly market held at the association's main outpost. The long eared hare had been tracking it for a while, finally encroaching on his prey as the seemingly docile creature sniffed at the ground in search of something tasty to eat.

Quietly, Fenrir tip-toed through the brush without so much as a single snap of the twig. Rather than sport the usual hunting quiver and longbow, the avid hunter chose a blade for this trip. Long had it been since he wielded a blade for this purpose, and a recent passing thought made the rava huntsman curious about how well he managed to keep his skill. Holding the blade as he once knew, he crept silently, getting close enough to be able to apprehend the beast with giving little warning to its end.

Assessing his surroundings, Fen made his move, quickly launching himself from the brush and onto the back of the animal, taking the blade to its neck in one swift motion. The cut was clean and quick, but it was not as immediate as he would have hoped for. The poor thing began to thrash about, knocking the dark haired man onto his back as it rolled onto the hare's ankles. The hunter's heart sank, realizing that he might not have held onto his skill as well as he'd hoped. Pushing the creature off of his feet, he tried to stand so that he could end the suffering he'd caused this poor creature. A sharp pain shot through his right leg from the ankle upward. In the fall, he must have twisted or fractured his ankle once the boar landed on him, but he managed to stabilize himself before falling against a near by tree. Thankfully, despite the horrific beginnings of the wild boars end, the ordeal went rather quickly, the beast taking its last breath mere moments after Fen tried to stand. The hunter sighed, sitting down slowly at the base of the tree.

After a few moments of breath, he crawled over to the animal, placing a hand over its still form, hanging his head in mild shame as he began to speak softly to it.

"You beautiful thing, I pray you forgive me for such cruelty." He said, taking a moment to breathe as he sat with his ill gotten kill. In good faith he'd no longer allow himself to gain profit from this endeavor, instead offering it freely to whom ever may need it.

More moments passed as the hare reached into his bag for some of the pain relieving elixir he'd kept on hand. A small sip would dull the sharp jolts of pain racing along the nerves while he reached out for assistance. With a hand to his linkpearl, he called for his resident doctor, a fellow viera man by the name of Azriel, who's practice resided in the main outpost of the GAHE - (Gleaner and Hunter's Association of Eorzea).

"Hey doc…" He began, his voice holding a bit more gruff-like tone than usual.

"I'm in a bit of a bind. Seems I made a grave mistake and am paying quite the price as I can no longer stand on my right foot. If you'd be so kind to help me back to the office I'd greatly appreciate it. I'm sat here in the clearing not terribly far from the house. I can light a flare if need be."

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

A Scooby Re-Write Inspired by Me and My Brother talking

After reblogging that, I got reminded of a discussion my brother and I had over Scooby-Doo. Basically we were talking about how Velma, while not the worst idea, is failing HARD at delivering anything. There's plenty of people on YouTube explaining WHY the show isn't doing well, so I won't bore you. Instead I'll talk about what me and my brother discussed.

First thought: Watch this Video. It's a good talk and honestly was the basis for our thoughts.

Most of this is mine with some thoughts of my brother.

First, I'd have them be college kids. Shaggy is the eldest at 21, and Velma is the baby at 18. Note as well: this follows my Canadian understanding of college and university.

Shaggy is a rich kid whose parents shoved him into all sorts of programs, and he killed it in theater club and culinary classes. Scooby is his dog he rescued at fourteen from an abusive relative. His parents actually helped to. His parents weren't neglectful, and fully support his dreams. They just really wanted him to find a hobby that wasn't eating. They're rich but also kinda hippies who own their own farm where they get fresh food, have chickens and also humanely butcher their animals. Shaggy is only vegetarian when he doesn't have access to meat he knows is ethically sourced. He believes in protecting the planet and might, a few times after catching eco-villains, buy the land they we were worried about to protect. He also is personally rich after creating a snack he calls 'Scooby Snacks' that are healthy and delicious.

Daphne is also a rich kid who knows Shaggy in the 'our parents do business together so we sat at dinners with each other'. Her parents also shoved her into programs a lot, but her interest ended up being fashion and judo. Like Shaggy, her parents aren't neglectful. They're just very busy and wanted her in programs to limit her alone time. Daphne and Shaggy are kind of friend. They get along, and when they see each other in class sit next to each other. But Daphne isn't that interest in spending time with him outside of class, mostly because she's busy with her designs and judo classes. And her boyfriend, Fred.

Fred isn't a rich kid. I like how his dad was mayor in Mystery Incorporated, and I like his trap obsession, so I want to keep that. His mom is a former socialite who became a social worker and is always busy like his dad. He ended up hanging out with his uncle, who is a stunts and props expert for movies. Traps came from this, and so Fred developed an obsession with it. Fred is a good kid, and he owns the mystery van that he painted like it is on a dare. He liked it though! He and Daphne went to the same school cause his mom used some of her money to pay for a private school.

Velma is a genius kid who graduated at age 15. She's in her third year, and striving to go into criminology. Her parents are the type who PUSH and PUSH to have her work harder and harder on school. They imagine her as a famous doctor who will make millions and have them in a life of luxury. She in turn has been working towards her criminology degree and when she turned 18, moved out and now lives in the dorms, where she is Daphne's roommate.

Daphne and Velma ended up close when Velma's parents tried to force their way into the dorm. Daphne prevented this, and they became very good friends. Daphne is in fashion studies, but takes a couple of justice courses for fun. Mostly due to Fred who has an interest thanks to learning his mother was disowned for blowing the whistle on her cousin's criminal life. Fred wants to go into movie making but takes the other stuff for fun.

Shaggy is kind of the odd man out, here. But it doesn't last. One summer, a really good university for future criminology students offers a scholarship for someone who can have a video where the student talks about famous crimes. Bonus if you actually go to these places.

Velma really wants this, but isn't sure if she can afford it. Daphne suggests going with her, and Fred can work the camera/drive. But they honestly don't have enough money. Daphne's parents firmly believe in their daughter making her own way. They pay for school, send her 500 every two weeks for food/gas, but do NOT pay for extra stuff. This, while nice, isn't something they would pay for.

Shaggy comes in. He's bored and overhears them as he's at Daphne's dorm for a group project they have in their costuming class as he's taking theater and culinary classes out of mostly boredom. He offers to pay cause 'I don't have anything to do over the summer and my extended family will be around cause of *reasons* and I hate them'.

So they all go off for Velma! And then of course, they start to find various supernatural crimes going on. Velma is secretly a ghost junkie, so is Fred. They have time, and go off to see it. And that is how them busting crimes start.

They go through about ten crimes, and there is some joking about how 'what the fuck, why is there so many people doing this shit' before they meet a REAL witch who has been terrifying people away from an area due to another witch trying to murder people. They team up to stop the evil witch, and in thanks, the witch casts a spell to give each of them a true desire.

Fred gets a book about ALL traps in the world that is self updating. Daphne gets a suitcase that has the perfect outfit for any occasion. Velma gets a book all about the supernatural that also updates or tells them things they need to know. Shaggy? Shaggy truly wants his dog to live as long as he does. And Scooby? He wants to talk.

After this, they keep going and end up finding real supernatrual mixed in with regular. Daphne begins posting it online, the police know of them...

And at the end of the summer, Velma gets her scholarship. But also is allowed to do her classes online thanks to a wish granted by a grateful genie. They keep going, all over the world, happy as can be.

Notes:

-Velma is a lesbian and ends up with a new love interest every few episodes who keeps being the villain. She's teased for having crushes on felons.

-Scooby turns out to be a fae dog who stays with them.

-Shaggy I feel has a long distance girlfriend who ends up appearing once in a while and is brought up each episode so she is a major character but not around cause she is busy like... discovering the cure for cancer.

-Fred and Daphne get married in Vegas.

-While mostly episodic, there is a few long arching plots (IE: The scholarship and then later probably something like an apocolypse)

-Shaggy and Scooby are both still cowards but Shaggy will also punch a ghost for his friends and Scooby will run back to save them.

-Shaggy ends up getting magic.

-One gets bitten by a werewolf that that's a sub plot for like ten episodes or a season looking for a cure. Either they get cured or stay like it cause why not.

[luesmainblog]

yknow what i've got thoughts on this, actually I have been in a number of fandoms where there WAS no source material. not really. Goncharov is the most obvious example, of course, but there's also Lost Media fandoms - people who become obsessed over what little information we have on something. Go For A Punch/Saki Sanobashi comes to mind(don't look up if you're not a fan of guro). the anime may well not even exist, yet you'll find plenty of fanart for it, people who honest to god care about it. then there was Fanpro, a social experiment to see if you could form an entire fandom with JUST character designs, no names(outside of designated numbers) or information or anything else. The answer was yes. fanpro grew to be pretty popular among tumblr, and you can STILL find people participating in it to this day. Then we got even weirded with Fandomstuck. Now there was some actual expected context; Homestuck, and Hetalia. see, the entire thing was based around Homestuck in artstyle and general vibe, but the idea of a single person who Represented a people - in this case, a fandom - was born from hetalia, where there are people who represent an entire country. But the concepts were easy enough to grip; i can almost guarantee that there were active members of the Fandomstuck fandom who hadn't ever TOUCHED homestuck, and were going off of pure vibes. One of my current fixations is very similar. Sakura Clicker, as an idle game, has no real story; just a bunch of character designs and some basic mechanics. and yet, i want to expand it so so bad. i want to Know them! But alright, how about the real meat of this. Can you be an active fan of something you haven't actually see, that HAS something to be seen? well, let's see. One of my first ever experiences with fandoms-in-law was Doctor Who. due to the inability to watch the original series and no good place to pirate live action shows, I never did get into it. But it was all over my dash, and it was CONSTANTLY being crossed over with MLP - my fandom of choice at the time. Nearly everything I learned about Doctor Who, I learned from pony crossovers. and I loved it. but i never called myself a fan, because i haven't actually seen it.

My girlfriend is a more direct case. For a NUMBER of reasons, she really can't sit through South Park - it's too full of things that disturb and upset her. And yet, when I liveblog parts that are safe for her, she enjoys it. She appreciates the characters with me; she remembers things about it and happily engages me when she comes across memes for it. I don't know if she'd call herself a fan or not; i doubt it. but then.... then there's my boyfriend.

My boyfriend(we're poly) is a fellow lover of dark media, so when i got into Fear and Hunger, I of course talked to him about it. and he got pretty into it! ... but he can't really play or watch it himself, because of some pretty severe phobias around mold and parasites - both of which appear constantly in the game. But through my filtering - through sharing what i CAN share with him, and offering the wiki to delve through, and being willing to play the game into areas he's curious about - through that, he's become a member of the fandom. for a game he can't play, and can't watch playthroughs of.

it IS a baffling thing on the face of it. why would you get into the fandom for something you've not actually witnessed yourself? but... there are situations where it makes sense. where friends who HAVE seen it can act as a filter and information source. and you SHOULD always acknowledge that you haven't actually played the game, or watched the show, or read the book. but if the fanfic's accurate, how much does that really matter?

turning this into a poll because i am just so beyond baffled right now.

[boxofteethrpg-blog]

To Have and To Hold Chapter 4

Estelle hadn't had an easy time moving for the last six years, yet she slipped off of the railing as spry as she'd been when they first fell in love. She beamed even without her dentures and closed the distance similar to a nocturnal predator. Cradled like an infant to her long-mummified bosom was a writhing mass of tumors. The visceral lumps twitched; sinewy globes rolled against one another in the way only a living thing could. Blood and viscous ichor dripped between Estelle's fingers, stained her gown.

"Where did you get that?" he asked but didn't really want to know.

She tilted the largest clump of fatty malignancy closer to his lips as if it was a baby's head to kiss, saying, "I called and it came. It wants to help."

The coppery taste befouled the roof of his mouth, tickled the back of his tongue. Barney pressed against the door. Muffled shrieks of horror and cries of anguish penetrated cheap wood. He asked, "who are you?"

Estelle rolled her eyes and tucked the quivering cysts back to her breast. The restored matron straightened up. Her warm breath flowed over his face as she said, "your wife, parts of her anyway. Every ounce of me adores you, even the so-called rogue cells. In sickness and in health, right?"

She swiftly stole a peck from him before she turned back to the bed.

On the other side of the door, someone blubbered, begged the doctors to stop her father from tearing himself inside out. Barney barely registered it as he fixated on his wife's bared spine. Hospital gowns offered little dignity. While Estelle had lost all the curves that'd turned his head with youthful lust, he still adored her and never recoiled from her. Not until now. All down the spine, he'd kissed hundreds of times sprouts of pestilent meat writhed akin to a metropolis of botfly larvae. Her older wounds earned battling the big C wept clotted ooze.

"Shh, there we are," the corrupted woman murmured fondly, setting the foul collection down on the bed, and then traipsed over to the wall. Barney noted streaks of red running from the ruptured vent. A new clump of cancerous growths 'peered' over the edge with a dribble of grease. Estelle lifted her hands and cooed to them encouragingly. As hesitant as a kitten, the animate tumor tested the drop once, then again, before mustering up the courage to spill over. It didn't fall but instead inched as a slug would straight down into Estelle's clutches. The woman explained, "people think of us as some sort of invader, an illness, when we're actually a part of them. We're as natural as having a heart, lungs, brains, and eyes. We have a function, a completely natural one at that. Everything is meant to die."

Barney fumbled at the door handle; his venerable hands made it harder than it should be. He whimpered, "oh God."

"Not everything I suppose. Not anymore," Estelle said. The steaming pile of viscera was added to the first, and Estelle turned to catch the next batch crawling forth. She continued, "not me. Not you. Not us. If anyone deserves to be together, forever, it's you and me."

His hands finally worked right and Barney tore the door open, once again abandoning the walker. He slammed the door shut behind him once he escaped, only to find chaos. While some staff and visitors rushed from room to room, most of them huddled in doorways rubbing at their faces, rocking as they wept, or stampeding to the lift and stairs. Above all the screams, howls, the wailing of monitors, and rain lashed the building. The offal stench of ruptured internal cavities overpowered once-sterile air.

Without his walker, Barney lurched. He'd intended to join the mob in its panicked escape. Stress and age sapped him. Barney faltered with a cry and fell against the opposite door frame. With what strength he could rally, Barney clung to lacquered wood. He stared at the dying man on the bed inside. The poor bastard didn't have as much as a get-well-soon bouquet, which was good as it would have been a waste of money. Despite being perhaps two decades younger than Barney, the patient looked fit for the grave and that wasn't counting the rapidly pulsating sacs covering his chest. The bedridden man gurgled when he should have screamed, and identical to emerging butterflies, neoplasms pulled themselves from meaty cocoons.

Barney flailed away and collided with the side of a discarded gurney. It started to roll but with a deep-rooted moan, he kept it in place. The rest of the world continued to go mad around him. Red pools seeped from many of the doorways. The healthy stumbled haphazardly, stained ruddy, and numb from what they'd witnessed. Some of them even clutched at burgeoning wounds as undiagnosed growths answered Estelle's siren call. Others worked self-inflicted lacerations further open.

The geezer tried to focus and found himself meeting Dr. 'Selleck's' bewildered gaze. Slick gore covered the physician. As the two men stared at one another lucidity cleared the young man's fogged eyes. The doctor brushed giblets from his facial hair and shifted his attention to Estelle's door. Murderous intent saturated the young man's face as he plucked a fire extinguisher from its mooring.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

headcanans of Idia and Vil with a S/O that’s a foodie? like they love food and eating trying new dishes 🤤

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Idia’s not much of a foodie himself (he’s perfectly fine with guzzling energy drinks and chomping on candy and chips, which he’ll sometimes offer to you), so he can’t relate to your interest in food. In fact, he thinks it’s kind of a “normie” thing to rave over restaurants and look up cool food pics on Magicam.

Idia recommends a lot of cooking and food-based manga and anime to you. It’s the least he can do to entertain your interests and find some common ground with you. (All the clothes ripping off and the over-the-top reactions to tasting food is silly, but it brings you both a good laugh.)

He scours the internet for some cookbooks that attempt to recreate dishes from various anime and manga! You can use them to try your hand at cooking and bringing iconic items from your favorite series to life—and while Idia might be a little clumsy in the kitchen, he’ll do his best to help if you ask for it (or invent a machine to do it all for you).

For those lazy days where you don’t feel like going out, you bring a bunch of raw meat and veggies to Idia’s room and camp out! Between playing games, you roast items over his hair (while Idia grinds his gacha games or tries his hand at a super hard boss battle). Toasted marshmallow in hand, you cheer him on!!

With a lot of prompting from Ortho, Idia gathers the courage to take you out to a maid/butler cafe! He brings along light sticks for the two of you to encourage the dancing servers, and you wear a pair of cat ears while you enjoy your meal together! You even take a commemorative photo in those cat ears to celebrate—a cute souvenir of your fun outing.

One day you walk into his room to find Idia decked out in a... fancy suit? In a stammering voice, he mumbles that it was Ortho’s idea to recreate the “butler cafe experience” for you. You’re seated at a makeshift table at the center of his room, and waited on hand and food, served omurice with a loving message scrawled in ketchup: i <3 u!

As a connoisseur himself, Vil enjoys the finer things in life, including food. He’ll arrange for dates at exclusive, upscale restaurants—the sorts that have a strict dress code and waiting lists that span several months. Occasionally, he’ll bring you to small, understated gems as well—little diners tucked away in hidden corners and famous food trucks.

Since he’s always traveling for his job, Vil brings back snacks as gifts for you! Here are candied flowers from the Queendom of roses, sugar dates and silk melon from the Scalding Sands, gummy bugs from the Sunset Savanna... All kinds of delicious novelties and local specialties!

When his schedule is super packed, you may not be able to see him right away, but you’ll definitely feel his presence with you! Before departing for work for the day, Vil might leave a little note attached to your lunch box or on a fruit with reminders: an apple a day keeps the doctor away, be sure to stay hydrated, etc.

Whenever you eat something with a potato in it, you and Vil casually joke about how you can serve them so many different ways. Since he also calls first years “potatoes”, you’ve come to nickname each first year after a certain method of potato preparation—boiled, fried, steamed...

Vil isn’t a super skilled chef, but he’s willing to experiment and try out healthier alternatives and substitutes to standard recipes. With you as his taste tester, he’ll keep your critique in mind when he’s tweaking his dishes just to your liking.

He usually smells nice anyway, but he adjusts his perfume to suit you. When you embrace Vil, he might smell warm and sugary like a bakery, or dark and smoky like a candlelit dinner. It makes your mouth water—for food, or for the taste of him, you aren’t sure.

Riddle has always prioritized moderation over indulgence. He likes to see you enjoying yourself, of course, but he also stresses the importance of not overeating (stomachaches are not pleasant things to deal with!).

When you join him for tea, he arranges for all your favorite cakes and sandwiches to be prepared. Riddle even pours tea from the pot and into your cup for you—a sign of respect and affection, he informs you.

He notices that you sometimes curiously eye his strawberry tart, and he offers to share. Riddle plucks off a fat, glistening strawberry and tries to place it on your plate—but too he’s too slow about it! You’ve already leaned forward to eat it right off of his fork. His face flames at the implication of that indirect kiss.

Riddle fusses over you when you’ve made a mess eating. He’ll wipe your mouth with a napkin and dust crumbs off of your shirt for you, muttering about how you should take better care of how tidy (or rather, how untidy) you are.

You help loosen up Riddle’s own ideas of what constitutes as a meal. He’s normally averse to eating with his hands—a true gentleman uses only a knife and a fork—so you demonstrate for him with various finger foods, even feeding some pieces to him yourself! It’s cute to see him turn pink, his mouth trembling slightly as he opens for you.

He tells you of a tradition in his home country where they eat flowers. Riddle warns you to not just eat anything you find growing along the road, though! He’ll personally escort you through the Heartslabyul gardens, directing you to what is and isn’t edible, and allowing you to immerse all of your senses. The sights, smells, and tastes of nature at its pinnacle is incompatible to anything else, especially when it is shared with a loved one.

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader 

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work. 

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest." 

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago. 

[meri-l]

Facts about the characters in the Plague Doctor comic book. Facts taken from ASCfm the writers of the Plague Doctor comic book

Sergey Razumovsky

Height 185.

Sergey can't fence, but he loves knives.

Because of sitting at the computer ruined his eyesight and wears lenses not just for color.

At 'Vmeste" he has introduced a corporate ethic to address him informally and by name.

Seryozha is very skeptical of modern literature and loves Pushkin (russian poet)

Seryozha likes pizza, depending on his mood, the most varied: both gourmet and cheap.

In principle, he is an omnivore and does not turn his nose up at anything edible, but is very fond of beautiful serving.

He likes chocolate bars of all kinds.

Sergey continues to make sculptures.

He is a good shot and has been practicing for a very long time (since Major Grom)

Seryozha does not like swearing, Oleg is indifferent to it.

Oleg Volkov

Height 190.

During his school years Seryozha forced Oleg to read a lot of books, but now Oleg is more accustomed to reading than to perceiving information in a different way. He prefers text recipes to video.

Oleg is a fan of European cuisine, but even though he can cook anything he likes, he is more inclined towards meat and ethnic cuisine.

He was an economics major. That is, economist, accountant, and other related education.

Oleg first killed a man somewhere in the Special Forces, before his career as a mercenary.

As he grows older, Oleg finds only the sweets and desserts he has made himself tasty. Occasionally he condescends to some very expensive and delicious sweets, plus he loves fruit.

Dreams of getting a dog.

Continues to smoke even after his lungs are shot.

There was a brief episode in Oleg's life when he was a gamer, but a very brief episode

Oleg is indifferent to art and classical music, but understands them by virtue of the fact that Seryozha was constantly rambling on about them in his youth. Oleg was always telling Sergei about pokémon and rock bands

Oleg would not have been thrilled to be called Olezha, because it was childish.

The writers did not confirm that Oleg was Tatar 😔

Lera Makarova

She didn't have a prototype.

Lera's height is 179.5

She is a fifth year medical student.

Loves listening to sounds of nature and audio of whales singing.

Loves soups and broths, steamed food, does not like heavy home-cooked food with lots of fried, lots of fat.

When she was in school she got A's and B's.

Prefers natural makeup, does not do it every day, but knows how to make up.

Before she met Seryozha and her total fatigue, she liked to run in the morning.

Her ex-boyfriend's name is Artem.

Lera has a book "Witcher". On her bookshelf she has "Dubrovsky" by A.S. Pushkin and "Kamaleinik's Flower" by O. Gromyko.

Lera is 5th dan in kendo, which means she is at least 23 years old. Kirya (Lera's brother) is 2 years younger than Lera.

Her parents don't mind that Lera does kendo, and her family supports her.

Vadik

Height 190.

Vadik is 35+ years old, never called Dragon in canon.

His car is a Jeep Cherokee.

He has a perfectly legal driver's license, he didn't buy it.

He has an ethnographic interest in all national cuisines and always tries to taste the local food when he visits a particular country. The more unusual the dish, the more interesting it is. In St. Petersburg he is a fanatic about the local puffins.

He can cook, but without any soul or fanaticism.

Dolph Lundgren was offered as an example of the artist's appearance.

He studied at the Department of History and Theory of World Culture. Defended his doctoral dissertation.

Not against animals, but he can not afford to have one.

Only one tattoo, but it's a big one, occupying the upper torso and shoulders.

Altan

His height is 182.

After the explosion and the wrecked car, he has pins in his legs.

Altan is a Buddhist, like the rest of his family.

Wears things with his neck covered, collars and scarves, and is a fan of gold inlays and epoxy

At home he may be in shorts, t-shirts, and a bathrobe, but those who saw him like this would die.

Nemetaphorically can buy up wilted roses for 50 rubles, just so they don't die.

He studied bioengineering at ITMO, but was forced to graduate from another university.

He and his sister are half-siblings: the mother is the same, the fathers are different.

He never saw his father or his sister's father, as his sister's father died a long time ago and his own father abandoned Altan's mother before he was born.

He is a club-goer (in fact, he asked to go to Hong Kong just for that), but has become quieter with age.

Doesn't like to ride in the front passenger seat in a car.

If he wants to offend Dragon, he'll say Gaga's country album sucks.

Likes to walk on the shore of the Gulf of Finland.

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish. 

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything. 

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge. 

“Yes, darling?” 

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.” 

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected. 

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself. 

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?” 

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

-

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day. 

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.” 

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them.  “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment. 

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive. 

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands. 

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him. 

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to  let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.”  He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.” 

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting. 

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too. 

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his. 

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured. 

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin. 

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. 

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste. 

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him. 

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed. 

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?” 

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind. 

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.  

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place. 

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers. 

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully. 

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage. 

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.” 

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him. 

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty. 

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.” 

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw. 

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips. 

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach.  Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation. 

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you. 

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep. 

NextChapter

[medicus-mortem]

medicus-felini: @medicus-felini

With utter caution, the mink kneels down to get better access to the reptile’s jaws, the glass vial inviting the snake to bite onto the insides of the jar, finally rewarding them with its precious venom. With no further questions asked, Linn proceeds to repeat the same procedure for each set of fangs. A thought that didn’t even cross her mind. These subtle distinctions truly distinguish Law from the obscure doctor you encounter at every turn. The venom is extracted, and the jars are neatly put away. Turning around from her bag again, the woman looks up at Law and the poor fella in between his fingers. ❝ Truth be told, I’ve never seen a snake with two sets of fangs up close. What will happen to it now? ❞ Her blue eyes follow the rather calm snake. There was not much to fight against, since Law’s grip was making it impossible for the reptile to move away. Her people would probably take this chance to bring it home, cook it, or grill it, at best. Even though she feels hungry, she can definitely hold back the craving for… snake meat.

❝ If this animal really has two different types of venom, there must be a reason behind it. They would usually use it to hunt for different types of prey, different sizes of prey. I can’t imagine the sheer range of variety regarding enemies this little guy has to face daily. Hopefully, we don’t run into one of them…❞

The cat mink fills those vials with a level of efficient skill Law appreciates. She's seems a bit on the silly side but it seems the Kid pirates doctor can get down to business when she needs to. Law wonders if she has her priorities more straightened out than that dipshit that's her captain. Has him also wondering what she sees in Kid. Sure, the guy is strong and driven but that uncontrollable rage makes him a volatile leader. So volatile that Law figures he'll get himself killed one of these days if he can't get a hold of himself.

She finishes up the process and without any sort of warning or a second thought, Law twists his fingers. The snake's neck snaps where he holds it, the thing going dead in his grip. If it was just a normal, boring snake, than Law would have let it go, but it's not boring and normal. Which means Trafalgar Law is going to have himself a fun evening of dissection something new and exciting. The surgeon looks up with his fellow doctor's question and gives her a wicked grin.

"I'm gonna cut it open and discover every one of it's mysteries," he drawls, that excitement slipping through.

Law rises to his feet, pushing himself up and gathering the heavy coils of the now dead snake. Linn offers some other musings and questions. They are good ones and has Law considering manning a proper exploration of the island. Maybe he'll do that after Kid leaves. He doubts the big oaf can manage to move quietly anywhere.

"To answer those questions I figure we'd need to do months of observation," Law states. "Somethin' I don't got time or inclination for." Besides, it's not his forte. "But we can at least figure out its anatomy and extrapolate from there. Feel free to give me a hand if you're interested." The captain then spins on his heels, ready to return to camp. He does pause, giving the mink one of his smug smirks. "And don't worry 'bout the other beasties. If they bother us they'll just end up on my dissection table too."

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 13) - Whiskey & Cookie Cake

Summary: After returning from his parents, the reader and Jensen have a very special impromptu date. The following day, they make things official and the reader shares an important part of her past with Jensen...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,000ish

Warnings: language, flangst

A/N: It’s not my fault if anything in this part makes you cry. Nope, none. Or if you want whiskey and cookie cake ;) Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

“I appreciate you two coming shopping with me,” said Alan as he stared at the flour section of the grocery store, Jensen off in the deli section getting some fresh meat for the grill. “Would you mind getting two bags for me?”

“No problem,” you said, bending down to get some. You sat them in the cart and walked down the aisle with him as he tossed in some yeast. “Are you gonna make your own hamburger rolls?”

“No, Jensen’ll get some from the bakery. My wife likes to make bread and send the kids home with a fresh loaf or two whenever they visit.”

“By kids you mean Jensen,” you said with a smile.

“Well, the other two are close by. They still get it. He liked it a lot after the accident. Couldn’t keep much down the first two weeks aside from bread and rolls,” he said.

“Why’s that?”

“Something about trauma, grief and a major leg surgery not being a good combo the doctor told us,” he said as Jensen came up the aisle with his own cart. 

“Hamburgers. Hotdogs. Oh and steaks for me and Y/N,” he said, smiling at his dad.

“You really gonna milk last night for all it’s worth, aren’t ya,” he said. 

“Relax. It’s salmon,” said Jensen with a smirk, his dad groaning. “So yes. You’re gonna eat your fish and stay away from the red meat today and maybe we can start letting last night go.”

“You’re blackmailing me.”

“Blackmailing you would be saying you’re gonna start taking your cholesterol medication everyday,” said Jensen. His dad opened his mouth and Jensen crossed his arms. “Dad. You’re old. Take the medicine. Please.”

“Old. I run three miles every morning. Three,” he said.

“Daddy. Take your medicine.”

“What else do you want?” he sighed. Jensen smirked and walked down the aisle, pointing to the left. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“One time offer. We will never discuss last night ever again if and only if, you get me what is owed to me.”

“This is a grocery store?” you asked, Jensen chuckling. He ran back to grab your hand, pulling you away towards the bakery. 

“Boom,” he said, showing off a massive, massive cookie about the size of two sheet cakes.

“Jensen that’s like two hundred dollars,” you said.

“Eighth birthday. I remember being promised a particular cake from this particular store for my birthday if I got a A’s on every single one of my spelling tests all second grade long and guess who kept up his end of the deal,” said Jensen, crossing his arms.

“Spell optometry,” you said. 

“O, p, t, o, m, i-”

“Etry,” you said, his dad walking over. 

“Well I think I’ll buy the cake for the one that can spell after all,” he said. Jensen’s jaw dropped and he pouted. “Should you tell him or should I?”

“Jensen that cake behind you says Happy Birthday JJ.” He spun around and looked at the cake, cocking his head. “The one next to it says For Mrs. Rodeux’s best speller. Better late than never.”

“Oh. You...got me a cake,” he said.

“I called them first thing to get the second one done. You think I don’t know you kid?” chuckled his dad. Jensen looked at you and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to share it. It can go home with you.”

“Yes!” he said, doing a fist pump.

“Yeah, figured that’d win you over,” said his dad with a big smile.

“He really likes cookie cake huh,” you said.

“Just don’t let him eat too much at once or he gets sick.”

“I will do my best.”

Later That Evening

“Where’d Daddy go?” asked Zeppelin as you watched him take a bath back home in Austin. You were starting to get him comfortable with at least somewhat washing himself but for the most part he was still too interested in playing.

“I think he went to the bathroom downstairs,” you said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “You want to get in some warm jammies and have a bedtime story?”

“Not particularly,” he said. You got off the bench and squatted down next to the tub, ruffling his damp hair. 

“How about we dry you off at least,” you said as you felt the water, a little cooler than you would have liked. “Come on. Time for jammies and bed.” 

“No thank you,” he said. 

“Hm. Well that sucks considering...well, you know…” you said. He turned his attention away from his boat and stared up at you. “Don’t you know?”

“No. What?” he asked as he got to his feet.

“You don’t know?” you said, his head shaking. “You gotta dry off and get in your pajamas then so we can go see.”

“See what Y/N?” he asked, climbing out of the tub with your help and picking up his towel. You helped him dry off and handed him his shirt and a pair of pull ups. “Y/N…”

“It’s in your room,” you said, never seeing him change faster as you drained the tub. He ran out the second his shorts were on and down the hall to his room, opening the door. He looked up at you and you nodded to his bed. He climbed on top and and you went over to his bookshelf, picking up the stuffed animal. “You know Wolf Wolfington?”

“Yeah,” he said, kneeling up in bed.

“You know how he’s your favorite?” you said, walking over with the animal behind your back. He nodded and you smiled, pulling the toy out. “I thought you might like him.”

“Wolfington!” he said, giving the stuffed thing a squeeze. “This is awesome!”

“I talked to Wolfington you see and he really wants you to get a bedtime story,” you said. “A really quick one even.”

“Okay,” he said, climbing under the covers with his new toy and his favorite blanket. Ten minutes later he was passed out and you put his book back on the shelf, hitting his light off and nightlight on. You skirted out of the room and shut the door. After cleaning up the bathroom, you wandered downstairs and found Jensen on the back balcony. 

“Hey,” you said as you opened the back door. You slid it shut behind you, Jensen looking out over the yard. “Feel alright?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. You stood beside him, Jensen shifting behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He rested his chin on your shoulder and you smiled.

“S’nice night,” you said.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. You took his hand and turned back towards inside. 

“Meet me on the trampoline in five,” you said. He smirked and headed down the stairs while you gathered up a few items. He was bouncing up and down by the time you got out there, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a container in the other.

“Well this looks promising,” he said, plopping down on his bottom. You set the items down and stepped inside, sliding the container over to him. He popped off the lid and grinned. “You cut up my cookie cake for me.”

“Only if you share,” you said. You cracked the peel off the bottle and took a swig, mouth burning but the taste was good. You handed it to him and took out a piece of cake for yourself, Jensen smirking as he threw back a good two shots. He shook himself out and put the cap back on, taking a big bite of his cake and moaning. He lay back with his head in your lap, smiling up at you. 

“I’m gonna keep you,” he said, smirking and taking another bite.

“I’ll make you a deal. You catch me, you can keep me,” you said, leaning down and pecking a kiss to his nose. He wrapped his arms over his head and around your waist, leaving his cookie on his chest. “No silly. You’re supposed to wait until I’m ready.”

“Oh, my mistake, miss,” he said, popping the last of his piece in his mouth. You took a few more of yours and wiped off your hands, Jensen sitting up just in time to tackle you back on the net, making you both along with the bottle and container bounce. “You’re not very good at this.”

“You don’t play fair,” you said, Jensen smirking before he plopped down on top of you. “Jensen.”

“See that’s twice I’ve caught you. I think you should honestly give up now and accept your fate with me forever.”

“Oh no! The cookie cake!” you said. He sat up and spun around, giving you a chance to crawl out from under him and over to the other side of the trampoline. “Sucker.”

“That you’re just gonna have to pay for,” he said. He jumped and bounced over to you, missing you as you rolled away. You giggled and went to stand but he was already right there and picking you up. “What to do with a troublemaker like you?”

“Drink, eat way too much dessert and look at the stars?” you asked.

“Cuddling is non-negotiable,” he said. 

“I suppose I can live with that,” you sighed dramatically. He grinned and started to bounce lightly, your arms going around him. “Don’t drop me.”

“Never,” he said, jumping up high with you, your arms squeezing him tight. He laughed and did it again before setting you down. He held up a finger and jogged back to the house, ducking inside and returning with a blanket. He handed it to you and you laid it out on the trampoline, Jensen laying back beside you.

“Just so we’re clear,” you said, taking a sip from the bottle while he got out another piece of cake and trading with you, “I totally let you catch me.”

“Gonna play it that way are we?” he chuckled. 

“Yup,” you said, Jensen turning and resting his head back on your stomach. You played with his hair, his eyes closing briefly while he chewed. He stared up at the dark sky, humming to himself. “I can tell you’re better than this morning.”

“Yeah. I know this chick. She has a knack for making everything better,” he said. You ran your fingers through his strands, taking a deep breath. “Did you know I make music on occasion?”

“The guy with guitars and records and music stuff all over his house? No, never,” you laughed. He reached a hand up and ruffled your head. 

“I’m serious, like I’ve recorded in a studio. I have an album,” he said.

“Really?” you asked. “You’ve never told me that.”

“I lost the mood for it a while back. It might be coming back,” he said. He was quiet and you twirled a piece of his hair, Jensen smiling and nuzzling back against you.

“Where’d you go during kiddos bath?” you asked.

“Mom had it handled,” he said. You took a bite of your cookie and felt him pull your hand in his hair down to his chest. “Was that okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. You finished off your cookie and he reached into the container for another. “Plane.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Kinda to the left,” you said.

“I think I missed it.” You felt his gaze on you and you turned your head, green eyes looking back. “They get two moms is all. It’s no big deal.”

“They don’t have to call me that,” you said.

“I know.” He went back to looking at the sky, a few stars out in the clear night. “You know I heard from this chick, same one as before and all, that adoptive moms are kinda the shit.”

You sat up and his head wound up in your lap. 

“You want that?” you asked.

“Eventually, yeah. After the wedding and everything,” he said. “Speaking of which, and I know a lot of women have their vision and all that but I was thinking maybe you’d be interested in something smaller? You don’t strike me as the let’s have a huge thing kind of person.”

“You want me to adopt the kids?” you asked again. He nodded and sat up, moving an arm around your back.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” he said, your head shaking. “What is it?”

“I don’t...want to overstep and…” you said. He smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper.

“We have permission from the beyond it turns out,” he said. He held it out to you and you swallowed. “She wrote me a letter a few years back after the twins were born. I found it in my desk drawer last fall. I finally read it after we got home tonight.”

“Jensen, I can’t. This isn’t for me.”

“Well if you don’t read it, I’m gonna tell you what it says anyways.” 

“This is yours,” you said, pushing the paper back towards his chest. “She was talking to you. This was meant for you and only you.”

“Actually you’re wrong,” he said, putting it in your hand. “Some of the letter was for me but this page? This page I haven’t read because it’s not addressed to me. It’s for you and I need you to read it because this is the last of her voice I ever get from her for a really long time so I need you to read it and tell me what it says.”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath before unfolding the sheet.

To The Next One,

I hope there is a next one. Like seriously. I’m telling you upfront that I was the one that did the asking out, not him. He’s shy and I swear Jensen if you’re reading this I’m kicking your ass the second I see you again.

“She’s funny,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

So. Next person he falls in love with. Here’s the deal. I got some contingencies for you and him getting together. Technically I have no say. Technically I can guilt trip from beyond the grave though so, you know, I win. But if you are the person he loves, tell him that you love him. He bottles shit up and shoves it down. He pretends he’s fine and he’ll take on the weight of the goddamn world with a smile cause he’s good like that. But he hurts and you’ve probably seen him cry as much as I have at this point. You can only be that good and kind and loving when you got a lot of love jammed in there.

So I imagine he was pretty fucked up after I bit the big one. Probably put on a brave face and powered through. But you know that. Do me a favor and put that boy in his place. Tell him to go cry or watch The Notebook. He says he hates it but it’s what he watches when he needs to cry. You know what else? Encourage that shit more. He’s getting there, really he is. He is the least toxic man on the planet. But you know, try to help him diffuse or something? I used to give him lavender bubble bath and he was all, no way and then next thing I know, he’s taking his bubble bath on a stressful day. Pay attention to that stuff I guess is what I’m saying.

Another thing. Presuming he’s not the most handsome geriatic man there could be when you’re reading this, have a fucking kid with him. Have two if you want, or more. Adopt the three that we made. Or adopt if you can’t. It’s fun and he is so good with a baby. He was walking around with Arrow earlier cooing at her and that’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever seen in my life and you deserve to see it too.

He’s special. Normally I’d never agree to sharing him but if you’re the person he gave this letter to, I’ll make an exception for you like I’m sure you had to make an exception for me. Make him happy and the kids. Let them make you happy. Maybe in another life we can catch up over a drink, figure out how to share there too.

And just between us, don’t stop acting like kids in love for the first time. He won’t and you shouldn’t either.

See you around The Next One.

Dee

P.S. His blue henley is the softest thing on earth. He hides it in his gray suitcase. Steal it or I swear we can’t be friends.

“Y/N?” asked Jesen as you folded up the paper. You smiled and put it in your pocket. “What’d it say?”

“I don’t think it was meant for your eyes,” you said, planting your hands behind you and leaning back. “But she’d like us to do everything we’d like. Also found out a few things I’m gonna have to keep a secret.”

“Oh really?” he said, smirking at you. “Like what?”

“I think that’s between us girls,” you said, laying back on the trampoline. “We are going to share you though so I think you’ll like that.”

“You’re really not gonna tell me?” he chuckled. “After all that?”

“She loves you a lot. I mean a lot Jensen. Pretty much it’s her asking me to take care of you guys and some little ways to do that,” you said. He nodded and lay back, smiling to himself. “Do you-”

“No. If I change my mind I’ll just ask to see it,” he said. 

“Why’d you finally read the letter she had today of all days?”

“I was ready, after my parents and how you acted. I’m not letting her go or moving on so much as...I want my first girl to love my second girl and I’m pretty sure you two would care about each other, for me and the kids sakes.”

“Well I gotta love her. I happen to know the location of a certain...shirt I’m supposed to steal,” you said. He turned his head and his jaw dropped.

“She told you about the blue henley! No, it’s so soft!”

“I was instructed to steal it so I’m afraid I must make this sacrifice for Dee. It’s really the only respectable thing to do.”

“You two are somehow still managing to gang up on me,” he said with a laugh. “Oh my God. I don’t know if I can handle an afterlife with the both of you.”

“Yeah but threesomes on the reg,” you said. He let out a deep laugh, running a hand over his face while you giggled. “Sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

“No, no that’s Dee for ya. She would be more than down,” he chuckled. “Yeah, she’d like you a lot.”

“We both have excellent taste in men,” you said, reaching for the container of cookie. There was one piece left and you held it out, Jensen leaning up to take a bite.

“That’s not the whole thing right?”

“Jensen it was the size of a sheet cake. This is like, a fifth of that,” you said.

“Good cause as you can see, I have no cutoff when it comes to this stuff.” He took another bite and you put the rest in your mouth, his eyes narrowing. He pecked a kiss to your lips and pulled you to lay back with him. “I have a fun idea for tomorrow while the kids are at school and daycare.”

“Lay in bed naked and drink coffee?”

“That is an excellent idea we will be touching upon Tuesday morning. However, it seems to me that my fiance is missing something,” he said, lacing his fingers with your left hand. 

“You want to go pick out an engagement ring?”

“Hm, I think you’ll just have to trust me on this one,” he said. 

“Okey dokie.” You turned onto your side and curled up beside him. The air was warm and comfortable, Jensen stretching out. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

You woke up to the sound of birds, Jensen groaning beside you. The air felt different and opening your eyes told you exactly why.

“Howdy neighbors,” said Jared. You bolted up and turned on your bottom, Jared chuckling while Jensen grunted again. He pulled you down to lay and Jared laughed. “Stopped by to get the keys to your jet skis when I saw those three inside eating cereal out of the box and watching cartoons.”

“See? They can fend for themselves,” mumbled Jensen. He sat up and brought you with him before rubbing his eyes. Jared walked over to the entrance of the trampoline and smirked. “Shut up.”

“What’d you two crazy kids get up to last night?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said Jensen. 

“There is a half drunk liquor bottle and you both smell like whiskey and chocolate.”

“It was cookie cake,” you said. “I think we accidentally fell asleep out here.”

“The trampoline don’t make a half bed mattress,” said Jensen. You crawled out of the entrance, Jared holding the bottle and empty container when you handed them off to him. Jensen followed after as you stretched out. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight,” he said. 

“Shit. JJ’s late for school,” he said, Jared shaking his head. “Ah, thank you.”

“Gen took her and the boys. I dropped the twins off at daycare after I came out here and made sure you were both alive,” he said.

“I thought something poked my back,” you said.

“I figured I’d let you guys sleep,” he said. “You want to hit up the water with us? Double date while the kids are at school?”

“We have plans,” said Jensen with a soft smile. “But dinner here later?”

“What are we having? Cause you know we got our tradition for last week of school,” said Jared with a grin.

“You guys handle the sides, we’ll handle the meat,” said Jensen. Jared smirked and you shook your head. “You’re a child.”

“You handle that meat real good,” said Jared, Jensen whacking his arm.

“Be careful with the skis. Wear your life jacket doofus,” he said.

“Yes mom,” said Jared as he handed you back the bottle and container. “Six thirty ish?”

“Sounds good. Oh and if Gen is in the mood to make extra queso…” said Jensen, Jared rolling his eyes. “Thank you Jared.”

“Yeah, yeah. You guys finish up your thing early you know where to find us,” he said. He headed back up the yard as you and Jensen ducked inside. 

“I am going to shower,” you said. Jensen grinned and grabbed your free hand. “Do...do you want to shower too?”

“We would save a lot of time if we did it together,” he said. 

“I like the way you think Ackles.”

“I am so confused,” you said an hour later, sat on the hood of Baby with a blindfold on. “You know normally you would do the blindfold and then give the ring, not the other way around.”

“Eh, quiet with your back sass. I have a surprise for you that requires some preparation,” he said. 

“Oh you know prep work is very important,” you laughed.

“Jared’s a bad influence on you.”

“You’re a bad influence on me,” you said. “So to recap, after we showered and got dressed in what I should say is a particularly flattering romper-”

“I like the red one but you had to go with the blue, didn’t you,” he chuckled.

“The red one is so tight on my ass it’s not even funny.”

“We have different definitions of problems with clothing,” he laughed. 

“Well, this light blue one is strapless.”

“I know. I find that very, very appealing.”

“Anyways, my randy fiance hits me out of nowhere with a ring he’s had in the closet apparently and then he kidnaps me away to his muscle car, throws a blindfold on me and after approximately twenty one minutes of driving, mainly highway, we park and he has abandoned me like a damsel to fend for myself in the summer heat.”

“You trying to win an Oscar over there?” he chuckled.

“I’d settle for an Emmy.”

“Oh yeah. Everybody can get one of those,” he laughed. “You can calm yourself little lady. I am almost done and frankly your timing estimation is scarily accurate.”

“Well I know how far the brewery is from the house so not that impressive,” you said.

“We’re not at the brewery,” he said.

“We are literally at the brewery. I heard someone shout your name.”

“Technically we’re on the land next to it, smarty pants. Two more seconds,” he said.You leaned your head back, enjoying the breeze and smell of fresh pizza. 

“Hey Jensen. What’s this dinner tradition thing with the Padaleckis?”

“Oh we started it a few years back. This is the kids last week of school. Since tomorrow and wednesday are half days, we kinda always get together as like an end of school celebration that Monday night. We’ll go out this weekend with them but we do a home cooked meal, normally a tex-mex blend sort of thing for this. I got a guy we can get some marinated brisket from on the way home. We’ll put her in the grill on low and she’ll be good to go.”

“You ever have a sandwich with brisket, coleslaw and jalapenos? It is so, so good.”

“I’m gonna have to try that out tonight,” he said, his hands on your arms. “For now though, please remove your blindfold, madam.”

You undid the bow in the back and pulled it off. A small table was set up with a two candles on top, a box of pizza at the end and a six pack beside it.

“You really do know the way to my heart,” you said. You laughed and he walked you over to it, pulling out your folding chair. “I thought I smelled pizza.”

“I know you like the one we sell quite a bit,” he said, taking a seat next to you. “I actually...don’t laugh but this was kinda my idea of how I actually wanted to propose. It’s private but simple. You’ve never been the fanfare type. I thought you would have liked it.”

“You could always ask again.”

“Wanna marry me?”

“Yup,” you said. He wiped off his brow and and you gently smacked his arm. “I do like it. Just us. It’s really peaceful here.”

“I’ve always thought so. Our own little slice of country,” he said.

“I never told you, did I,” you said, smiling to yourself. “I grew up on the outskirts of Austin, about ten minutes down the road.”

“That’s all farm country out there,” he said. You shrugged and he chuckled. “You grew up on a farm?”

“My mom owned acreage from her parents, their parents before them. She left it to me. I haven’t been in over a year. A local farmer makes sure the house is in order but we got fields and a house and barn. I never sold it in case I needed a place between nanny jobs.”

“Would you show me sometime?” he asked.

“Yeah. We can go after our lunch date. Promise.”

“What do you think?” you asked when you walked up the front path to the house nearly an hour later. 

“This is gorgeous out here. It’s so quiet,” he said as he looked around at the small hills and trees, the swaying long grass in the breeze. “We should keep this.”

“Huh?”

“You said you kept it for a place to stay between jobs. I think we should definitely keep it though, for us. It’s like a different world almost but it’s within driving distance of home.”

“I haven’t lived here since I was sixteen,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “But...I think you’re right. Mom would want us to keep it. I really did love it here. It’d be great too for when your family is in town. We only have the one guest room but this is a much shorter drive for like your siblings families and they don’t need a hotel or anything.”

“That’s a great idea. I know they’d visit more often if they had the space for the kids and some grown up space even,” he said. You picked up a rock by the steps and grabbed the key, undoing the front door. It smelled only a bit musty as you stepped inside. You left the door open, leaving the screen one shut to air it out as Jensen turned his head. “This place is huge. Your mom got it from family?”

“Her parents died when she was in college. Only child. There’s five good sized bedrooms,” you said. “That was the dining room which honestly we only used for holidays. Stairs, hallway to the back. Left is the family room.”

He started to wander and you followed after, showing him the kitchen before taking him up.

“This was my room,” you said as you opened a door. It was fairly empty aside from a bare bed and a few boxes. He thumbed over the doorframe, catching each notch in the wood.

“Hit your growth spurt around twelve?” he asked. You nodded and he smiled. “I was so short.”

“Not short anymore,” you said while he walked around.

“Do you have any pictures of your mom? The downstairs looked a little bare.”

“Yeah,” you said. You showed him down to the master, opening up a box on the bed. “That’s where they all are.”

“Would it be alright if we took these home with us?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, taking a seat. He sat beside you and you took out an album, Jensen smiling at the first page. “Don’t laugh.”

“That is the ugliest dress I’ve ever seen.”

“I didn’t have much say in the matter,” you said. “That’s from the day I got adopted.”

“You were adorable, even if it looks like you’re wearing a drape,” he chuckled. He turned the page and cocked his head. “Is this your mom?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s so happy,” he said. “I bet that was one of the best days ever for her.”

“I agree,” you said, Jensen flipping some more before stopping at one. “What is it?”

“Where’s this from?” he asked.

“I think Miami. We went there on vacation one year with Ray. I was nine I want to say,” you said. 

“Was it March?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Dee went on her spring break to Miami one year in college,” he said. He pointed at a couple of girls that were in the background behind where your set up was, one of them looking very familiar. 

“That looks just like-”

“I know. Might not be her. Odds are-”

“How many Danneel’s have you ever met with their name on their bag,” you said, pointing at the purse.

“Oh my God. She was such a little preppy nerd,” he chuckled. “I bet she did that cause of her friends.”

“You can have that if you want.”

“I think we can share it,” he said. He turned through the pages and finished with the album, picking out another. You let him look and ask questions for a while before he’d gone through most of the box. He carried it downstairs with him and packed it away in the backseat before you brought him around to the back of the house.

“Come here,” you said. You dragged him over to the tree with the wide swing, space enough for the both of you to sit. “I used to stay out here all day sometimes. Day of the funeral I must have sat here for hours and hours.”

“Not a bad place to grieve. It’s pretty.”

“It was the last time I sat on this swing. I said I’d never feel at home here again,” you said. “Ray and I got an apartment closer to town, moved the next week.”

“How do you feel now?” You smiled and leaned back.

“Now...home is people, not a place. I want to share this with you, the kids. Our family. I was so unhappy as a child and this place changed that for me cause of my mom and even Ray. It’s a good place again for me. Home is somewhere else now but it feels warm here again, not sad and cold.”

“Thanks for taking me out here today,” he said.

“Maybe we can even do that camping trip in one of the fields. You gotta see the stars out here, way more than at the house.”

“Camping with indoor plumbing only steps away. Best of both worlds,” he said. “Do you own anything else big? We never really talked about that kind of stuff I suppose.”

“Actually I own the Dallas Cowboys. I didn’t want to intimidate you,” you said. He rolled his eyes while you bumped his arm and giggled. 

“Okay wise guy.” He threw his arm over your shoulders and you expected a noogie but only got a kiss on the head. “You’re lucky I know how long you spent on your hair this morning or else you’d be so screwed right now.”

“Losing your edge, Ackles.” He didn’t hesitate that time to put you in a headlock and you managed to ruffle his some before he gave in with a laugh. You could feel a few strands out of place but he stood and undid your hair tie, moving behind you and scooping it all up. He hummed and put it back in a messy bun for you, smiling as you leaned back to catch him fixing his hair. “I don’t have much else besides this place, my car and a savings account.”

“You know, speaking of your car...I’m gonna have to be an asshole about something,” he said.

“Oh? What’s that?” you said as you stood. You walked in front of him and he rested his hands on your hips.

“I’m going to have to insist on a new one.”

“Ah, come on. It’s my first car. I got if for my sixteenth birthday,” you said.

“That car is almost as old as you are. I know you don’t have to drive it as much lately since we take mine but please can we get something from the current decade? Pretty please?” he asked, jutting out his lip. 

“Are you worried?” you asked. He nodded and you smiled. “I will look at something newer, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he said, checking his watch. “Want to go get that meat, get started on it?”

“Oh I bet you want to handle that meat,” you said. He gave his bitch face and walked away as you laughed.

“Your crude humor is very immature,” he said as you caught up with him. “I don’t go for that kind of low brow thing.”

“I watched you make a dick out of a banana and two oranges at the grocery store yesterday.”

“Touche,” he said.

“You’re silly,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist. “But I like that.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple. “Anything besides the brisket you want to pick up? Chicken? Burgers?”

“Hm, I’ve never made my world famous chicken thighs for you yet. I gotta grill ‘em but the secret is you heat them up in the oven again with this marinade sauce. I got a raise out of it once actually.”

“First off, the face you can grill is extremely attractive. Second, how’d you manage a raise?” he asked, stopping by Baby.

“I made them for the couple I was working for at the time. She took credit of course but they had a fancy dinner party with her boss and she got named partner at her firm for it so she gave me a raise for helping out.”

“Well now that you’ve hyped these things up to here we gotta have some for sure,” he said. “Why don’t we head out to the store. We only got about an hour before we need to grab the twins from daycare.”

“After you babe.”

________

A/N: Read Part 14 here!

[littlemouserat]

Jervis Tetch HCs (TNBA Ratter)

Basic Info & Fun/ Not So Fun/ Facts:

• Cis guy. 

• Pansexual, but is in denial (dealing with some internalized negative feelings). But has had crushes on many people regardless of their gender (whether he wants to admit it or not.)

•  Has a lazy eye

• Was born in the UK, but moved to America when he was 5.

• Is insecure about his height and appearance in general. He cracks jokes about it, but it bugs him more then he leads on. 

• Jervis was bullied relentlessly as a kid. His peers mocked him for his looks, for being the shortest one in class and for his love for Alice and Wonderland. Even some adults would make whispered remarks at his expense.

• Laughs at his own terrible puns/jokes and it has been his downfall in the past (ex Animal Act )

• Gives big over the top monologues to strangers when he’s committing crimes, but is very shy/timid when it comes to one on one conversations (like asking for help reaching the top shelf while grocery shopping or small talk with the cashier)

•sneezes like a kitten (yes I’m plugging my own comic X’D)

• Vegetarian, but will eat meat out of politeness if it is offered to him. Someone is willing to feed him and he’s just gonna turn it down? How rude.  

• A master of technology, but shit at using social media  

• Other then his knowledge of technology and neuroscience, he is multi talented in other regards: he can play the piano, chess, cards (solitaire is is favorite), bake, sew, ect. 

• Values manners and politeness, but can be a selfish, rude little bastard lol 

• He does not swear. Well, okay, he does ‘minor swears’ like hell or damn sometimes, but rarely goes any further. Unless it’s for a funny reason like this comic

• A side sleeper. On a good night he’s out like a light and sleeps so still and quietly it looks like he’s dead. On a bad night he’s tossing, turning and whimpering from a nightmare.  

• Sleeps in a Victorian nightgown .In fact all his clothing are accurate to the Victorian area when he can help it. Also he makes all his clothes.

• Sleeps hugging a pillow or a rolled up blanket. This has caused him grief from Arkham inmates and guards to the point where he doesn't do it anymore to stop the taunting, but it causes him restless nights.

• A hugger and a cuddler. However he does not have many people in his life who would enjoy to receive hugs or cuddles from him. Touch starved bastard. 

• Is scared of doctors thanks to mistreatment by Arkham staff and bad memories of his frequent visits to the doctor as a child thanks to his poor immune system (poor fella seemed to get ill with just the slightest gust of wind). Also Don’t tell Scarecrow.  

• As a child he would hop around like a rabbit at the park/ playground (I'm late I’m late), other adults found this endearing and so did some kids. But with Jervis’ shy nature he played alone most of the time. When he did get the courage to ask to play with others it hardly went well.  

Relationships:

• He was not close with his parents; they were emotionally distant, strict, and hardly ever said an encouraging thing to him.  They were never outright abusive, but they did the bare minimum in childcare and Jervis felt emotionally neglected. Jervis’ mother passed away from cancer when he was 8 and his father passed a year after Jervis got his job at WayneTech. He mourned them, misses them, and loves them despite their treatment of him, but the feelings are complicated... mostly, with them gone, he just feels alone. 

• However, he had a special connection with his grandmother. She was overjoyed when he was born; taking any excuse to hold him and coo with her wee grandson. When others would question/ mock Jervis’s features as an infant (”What are his ears so pointy?” “He looks small and sickly” “Who’s nose is that? he didn't get it from my side” “His teeth are coming in funny” “Are you sure this is mine? Looks nothing like me”) She would shut them down. He was the most perfect and adorable little boy in the world in her eyes. She encouraged his creativity and played a long with his imagination and games; she was always happy to play tea party. She also taught him to bake and sow (despite his father abjections to his son learning ‘women's’ work *eyeroll*). However when Jervis and his parents moved to the USA (for his father’s new job) She stayed in the UK, but would send him letters and gifs by mail. After a while the the gifts stopped coming and his letters would be returned to sender. He’s tried to ask his parents about her, but they do not approve of her (for reasons Jervis is not aware of... for now) so they always brushed off his questions. Jervis has no idea if she is dead, moved away without telling , or, worse, she stopped loving him.

• He gets a long well with most of the Gotham Rouges or at least tolerates ( more likely is tolerated by) them. His strongest bond is with Jonathan Crane / The Scarecrow. With their mutual love of science, literature, and hating batman ,among other things, they slowly but surely build a rapport . Also, unbeknownst to them, they seem to treat each other rather tenderly ? Well, tenderly  in the Scarecrow sense is speaking calmly and offering the short man his jacket when he’s visibly shaking despite his multiply layers (”Oh, Dr. Crane, I’m Fine. Put your jacket back on, you’ll catch cold.”  “Nonsense Jervis, You’re shaking like a leaf, come on now” “*sighs reluctantly* Oh, honestly. Causing such a fuss...Thank you, dear” “Don’t mention it”)  and Jervis offering John any teacup from his collection to call his own and sewing up his clothes when they get torn.

As Ivy puts it “They're too stupid and gay to realize that they’re stupid an gay for another.” 

• Has a soft spot for Harley Quinn. Not in a romantic sense (though he must admit he thinks she’s pretty , but even if he view her romantically ,do you think he’s try to get in the way of Joker or Poison Ivy ? Hell no ) she is just not his type. She is too hyperactive, dangerous and visits with her leave him exhausted (”I’m not as young as I use to be Miss Quinn”). He thinks of her as a niece, someone he doesn't have responsibility for, but is oddly protective of  (idc that scene in ‘over the edge’ was a dream it’s canon to me!) and he tolerates her infantilizing treatment towards him because the man is a sucker for any positive attention even if it’s a bit humiliatingly (ex. Harley picks him up bridal style and spins him around humming carnival noises in the Arkham rec hall just cause she can). 

• He’s one of the few rouges that treats Mary Dhal as an equal adult and they get a long well for the most part. Although they both have a tendency to act immature together. Honestly, they are a bad influence on each other. When Dhal starts acting like Baby Doll and Jervis goes full Mad Hatter mode, it’s a recipe for disaster for everyone involved. Also if caught the mere sight of them is confusing; “Why is that old man lighting a cigarette for a child!!??”

• Jervis and Arnold Wesker don’t talk too much, but with both of them having  trouble with fantasy and reality, they have a mutual understanding. They share advice and coping skills with each other  and play chess on occasion in Arkham.  Being roughly the same age they can relate on that level as well. Arnold is more a long the path back to his pre crime days so they don’t see each other much, but if they happen to cross paths they acknowledge each other with a smile and a ‘take care dear’ as Jervis runs from the bat. 

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

It Had to be Witches

Dean and Sam are on a hunt at Rowena’s request. When Sam is out of commission, Dean has to work with you.

Warnings: Unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) male oral receiving, fingering, mention’s of witchcraft, brief mentions of ritual style murders, brief mention of animal sacrifice, Dean is a sad boy.

Word count: 3567

All written and proofread (poorly) by me. All mistakes are my own. Please don’t copy or repost my work. Likes are great and I’ll love you forever if you repost and comment. Thanks for reading.

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Sam and Dr. Philips examined each of the women’s bodies. Carved into their limbs were runes consistent with the ones Rowena described. She said she was sending an expert who lived in the area but the boys hadn’t made contact yet.

“The other agent who was just here asked the same questions. Don’t you guys talk to each other?” Dr. Philips covered the bodies. Some of the women he knew personally.

“Different departments. You said he was just here? How long ago?”

“She. Her name is Diana Luna. She’s down at the evidence locker. All the women had the same necklace. She went to check it out.”

Sam thanked the doctor and set off to find you. First he called Dean. “Looks like Rowena’s story checks out. Her expert was just here. The bodies were marked with runes and all of their tongues cut out. And, get this, they all had the same necklace. Maybe a coven?”

“Of course. Of course it’s witches, Sam. Look, don’t go far. I’m on my way.” Sam was sitting on a bus bench reading coroner's reports when you approached him. Due to the nature of the case, Rowena insisted the elder Winchester carry out the task at hand. “Use Sam as bait.” she instructed.

“Agent Cornell? I’m agent Luna from the Lansing office.” You extended your hand. “Director Macleod sent me.”

“Yeah, I bet she did. Bring me up to speed.”

“Sure. I’ve got what you’re looking for right here.” You blew a very potent powder in his face knocking him out. You put the lankier Winchester into your truck and sped back to your house. Getting his dead weight up the stairs was a task but you did it. “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

Dean searched the entire town square for Sam with no luck. He tried his phone again and it was going directly to voicemail. Sam could hold his own against any witch but Dean was still worried. As he unlocked the door to the Impala, he heard you call his name over his shoulder and turned his head to see who was speaking. You blew the dream dust into his face rendering him unconscious.

He was heavier than he looked. You shoved him into the back seat and pried the keys from his hand. Baby growled angrily when she started but you had her purring for you in no time. You drove him back to your house and dragged him inside where you intended to tie him up. Rowena coached you on all their tricks. You took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and divested him if anything sharp. With his wrists and ankles bound in a pretty decent slip knot you splashed his face with water to wake him.

“Morning, handsome.” he smirked as you wiped his face.

“Big mistake, sweetheart. I’m guessing you’re the one we’re looking for.”

“Pretty and dumb. Rowena was right and you would be guessing wrong. Her name is Teresa Wilson. She came seeking asylum with our coven a few months ago. Said her whole order was obliterated. Turns out, she wasn’t exactly who she said she was.”

His face split into a cocky grin, “They never are. What do you want with me?”

“You need to help me find her. Rowena gave me a locator spell. When I cast the spell, I’ll need your fancy bullets. Problem is…”

He laughed heartily, “Problem is you can’t touch ‘em, am I right, sweetheart?”

“You would be correct.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

You took a step back just out of his reach just in case, “If you help me I’ll let your brother live.”

He strained against the ropes veins bulging in his forearms. “If you touch one hair on his head I’ll rip you apart myself. You hear me, witch?”

Your nails dug sharp into the meat of his cheeks so he would look at you. “Relax, baby. Your brother is safe. He’s asleep upstairs dreaming of puppies and rainbows as we speak. But if you don’t help me, he’ll never wake up. And, Dean, when I kill someone, it sticks. No resurrections for Sammy this time.”

You’ve never seen a human man snarl before. It was pretty cute. Rowena warned you not to be mesmerized by his sweet face and his Disney Princess eyes but you couldn’t help it. The man looked like he would, in fact, rip you apart. And, Hecate help you, you wished he would. You traced a finger along his sharp stubble covered jaw. His eyes turned up to look into yours, throwing daggers at you. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re angry?”

“All the time. Get to the spell so I can take my brother out of here.” he growled.

“It’s not time. If I untie you, are you gonna be a good boy or do I have to hit you with my knock out dust again?” You couldn’t take your eyes off of his perfect lips smiling at you.

“Sure, mommy, I’ll be a real good boy.”

You knelt in front of him and parted his knees slightly to undo the first knot. “Such a smart ass.” He growled low in his throat when you peered at him through your lashes. His dick grew painfully hard against his jeans as you slid your hand up his legs to maintain balance. Of course you noticed though he tried to squeeze his thighs together to hide his arousal. “Do you like me like this, Dean?”

Of course he did. You were just his type. A little bratty but you had a good heart. Rowena told them about you. The little warrior for the Grand Council. They constantly sent you to do their dirty work and you did so without question like a good soldier. No wonder Rowena paired the two of you. You were the female version of him. “Like what?” His voice was low and dripping with need.

“On my knees for you. Looks like you do.” You winked at him but he looked away embarrassed.

It had been a long time since he felt a woman wrapped hot around him. Everything in him wanted to follow your siren song and happily crash. He couldn’t do it. This story always ended bloody. “You couldn’t handle it, sweetheart.” He peered down at the bulge in his pants. So did you. Your core heated at the thought.

“Is that a dare or a double dare?.” He spread his legs and licked his lips inviting you to take what you wanted. You shook it off and focused on the task at hand. “Well in any case, I made you dinner. Pot roast, potatoes, peas and carrots. Eat if you want.”

It did smell amazing. His stomach growled remembering that all he had was coffee this morning. The living room and kitchen were well lit and warm. He felt at peace in this place. More so than the bunker where it could sometimes feel clinical and cold. “You got a pretty nice place here. You all alone?”

A sly smile played on your lips, “Just me.” You sat the plate down in front of him with a cold beer and a bottle opener. The oven timer dinged and, when you opened the door, the aroma of cinnamon and spice wafted through the air.

“That pie?” He sounded choked up.

“Apple. I have an orchard in the back. Rowena filled me in on how to keep you happy.” You sit it on the windowsill to cool while you ate. “I can’t have you bashing me over the head and running off before we kill this bitch.”

He shoveled a fork full of potatoes and gravy into his mouth humming in appreciation. “Why me? You had Sam here. He’s much better at this witch stuff than I am. Why drag me out here?”

“You’re more reliable when making difficult decisions. You’re what I need. Another beer?” He nodded breathing in the soft floral scent that wafted off of your skin as you moved.

You didn’t offer any further information and Dean thought that was probably for the best. If he got in his head about the situation he would lose his nerve and that can’t happen. That’s how people die. As of late, Sam has had a lot on his mind. Dean would have to shoulder this burden. At least Sammy was getting some rest.

The two of you shared a comfortable silence only marred by silverware hitting ceramic. “Well that was delicious. Thank you….umm…I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I didn’t give it to you. I’m Y/N. But I wouldn’t mind if you kept calling me sweetheart. Pie?”

Dean's heart beat hard in his chest at the thought of calling you sweetheart “Maybe a little. So when do we do this thing?”

“Eat your pie then meet me outside. I have to prepare.” You slipped out the back door down a dimly lit path to your cauldron. You threw in the mandrake and tobacco. Last was the chicken that you had to slaughter. You grabbed a hen from her coop and stabbed her with your athame. It made a terrible sound which sent Dean flying through the back door ready to fight.

“What the hell was that?”

“Chicken.” You allowed the rest of its blood to drain and discarded the carcass. “periisti. lates. Ego te quaero. I vestrum adprehendet vos.” You chanted over and over until a glowing beacon appeared. “We have to follow it.” The orb circled the two of you then floated towards the Impala. You retrieved his keys from your pocket and started off for the car.

“Whoa whoa whoa. What are you doing?”

“Following the orb.” He grabbed your arm as you started to slide into the driver’s seat.

“No one drives my baby but me. You sit shotgun.” He impatiently waited for you to scoot over. When you reached for the radio he slapped your hand away. “Are you serious?!”

“What? There were other decades besides the 70’s.” He bit his lip and flared his nostrils letting out an unsettling growl. “Driver picks the music.”

“You are a child. Just drive. The spell won’t last forever” you huffed.

“So, just you huh? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?” You didn’t answer keeping your eyes trained on the orb. “Yeah me neither. Maybe later we can grab a drink.”

“My god. Can you keep it in your pants until we’re done? It took a left!”

He sped up taking off after it, “I see it. So that’s not a no.” That was all the invitation he needed. The truth was you would have given it up the moment those green eyes stared into your soul.

“It’s not a no. Let’s focus.”

Baby ate up miles of dirt road before reaching the highway. A couple of miles ahead the orb sped for an exit into town. You were led to the motel where the boys were staying. The door to their room was wide open and there Teresa stood bathed in the light of the orb. You bid it a job well done and sent it on its way.

Teresa, caught off guard, quickly muttered a spell pinning Dean to the wall, sending the gun skittering away. You faced each other down while Dean struggled. “She’s a kid!” he groaned in pain.

“I’m nineteen thank you. You don’t have to do this Y/N. Come on. We’re sisters. We share the same DNA. Let’s take them on together.” Tears welled in your eyes. You may have been blood but you weren’t sisters. She grew up far out of the Grand Council’s reach while you were their trained lap dog.

“Only half little sister. You’re hopped up on enough stolen magic to power the entire city. The Grand Council sent me to take you down. Adiuro te in nomine Hecate. Adiuro te in nomine Dianae. Tuae vires cum luna decrescant.” you chanted. She fought back but the binding spell was powerful. She didn’t have enough magic to hold Dean and fight you so she let him go. When he regained composure, he dove for the gun.

Without warning, Teresa gained the upper hand. She held out her arm and used all of her might to pull you towards her. Blood stained tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breath. With every last ounce of strength you had you doubled down on the binding spell long enough to hold her so that Dean could put her down. The blast of the shot filled the small motel room filling your ears with a high pitched whining. You collapsed onto the floor where Dean scooped you into his arms.

“Hey, Y/N. Wake up. Stay with me. Shit.” He carried you to the car and gingerly set you down next to him. The drive back to your house felt long. When he got you inside he placed you on the couch and called Rowena.

“Is it done then?” she asked in her thick Scottish brogue.

“Yeah but your girl’s unconscious. She’s breathing but she used a lot of magic. A lot. I don’t think you’ll be calling on her anytime soon.”

“Keep her warm, Dean. I’ll be there soon.” The line went dead. He sat on the floor in front of you and brushed your hair from your eyes.

“Sweetheart, you need to wake up. We were supposed to grab that drink, remember?” He pressed his lips to your temple lingering there for a moment when he heard Rowena’s laugh trill behind him.

“I should add matchmaker to my long list of talents. Out of the way, Dean. I’ll get your girl fixed right up.” She patted his hand and pushed him aside.

His face flushes hot burning all the way to his ears. ”She’s not my girl.”

“Of course. Now, what seems to be the trouble, dear?” She placed her hands on your head. Her eyes glowed as she spoke over you. Your lashes began to flutter and you woke up. “There she is. Good as new.” You and Dean exchanged a look. “That appears to be my cue to go check on Samuel.”

“Thank you, Rowena.” your voice was hoarse barely above a whisper.

“Not at all, dear.”

Dean pulled you into his lap rocking you gently, “You scared the hell out of me, sweetheart.”

“I had to stop her. She hurt too many people.” You felt guilty for ending her but even guiltier for letting her go as far as she did. Guiltier still for not pushing harder to be in her life. “It was my fault.”

“Hey, no it wasn’t. What? You think you should have been a better big sister? You didn’t lead her down this path, Y/N.” You rested your head on his shoulder “All these years and all the stupid fucked up shit Sam and I did, I blamed myself. I took on that burden. Alone. It’s a lonely awful place to be. I’m begging don’t do that to yourself.” He held your face in his hands forcing you to look at him. He wanted to kiss you. You would have let him if he leaned in. Instead he brought you back down to his chest just to hold you. He saw so much of himself in you. You were headstrong and self righteous but your intentions were altruistic.

You melted into his arms so lost in him that you didn’t hear Sam and Rowena slip out. Dean offered his brother only a small nod to let him know you were ok. He had several texts from Eileen anyway. Happy to see his brother didn’t have to spend another night alone, he went back to the bunker.

You sat in silence for a while when you started yawning. “Shit. What time is it?”

“After midnight. I should get outta here.” You untangled yourself from his grasp but didn’t stand. His hands stayed respectfully at the small of your back. You locked eyes with him. Your core tingled as he brushed errant hair from your forehead.

“Or you could stay. We haven’t had our drink yet. Though, you don’t need to get me drunk, handsome.” You kissed his jaw and down his neck working your way to his collarbone. A soft moan escaped his lips when you nipped at his neck. “I mean you enjoyed me on my knees and all.”

“As pretty as you looked,” his voice was low and gravelly, “And, I mean you looked gorgeous. We really shouldn’t.”

You genuinely pouted your lips backing off of your ministrations, “Why not? I want to. And you clearly want to. You’re a fucking legend, Dean. Show me just how legendary you are.”

He arched a brow at you and smirked in the way that only Dean Winchester does. “Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” Finally his lips were on yours. The force of his kiss took your breath away. It wasn’t predatory or greedy. It was slow and sensuous bordering on hunger. His whole body was hungry for you. Dean Winchester was hungry constantly looking for something to fill the hole inside him. For the moment, that was you. He felt like he was floating and was suddenly very warm. If he stopped kissing you he knew he would just stop breathing. He couldn’t bare the thought.

“What are you doing to me?” His chest heaved. “I feel like I’m on fire.” Surely this must be a spell or enchantment. He pulled you back in for more but this time his hands strayed from your back. They traveled to your hips then under the hem of your shirt to feel your flesh warm against him. He had to feel you. To be inside of you. Deft fingers unbuttoned your jeans. Without breaking the kiss he stroked your clothed core working up a rhythm that flooded you with arousal.

“Touch me, Dean. Please” you cried. Pushing your panties aside his fingers explored your dripping pussy. His pace is maddening. Your hips snapped fucking back hard. “Fuck, Dean. So good. I need your cock. Want you to split ne open.”

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Princess. Come for me and I’ll give you what you want.” And so you gushed around him moaning like a witch on fire. When your heart slowed to a normal rhythm you stripped naked. Before he could get undressed he took a moment to kiss and touch every inch of you. If this was only for tonight he wanted to savor you. “God you’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” You pulled him up and undressed him, never once breaking eye contact. His cock was red and weeping just aching to be touched.

On your knees in front of him you took the whole burning thing in your mouth. To Dean, you were the most stunning creature to exist. You swirled your tongue around the head while you hollowed your cheeks sucking him in deeper still.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Fuck that feels good.” His hands grasped the back of your head keeping you steady while he fucked your face. It started feeling too good like he would blow his load in your mouth. He had to feel your sweet cunt. “Let me feel you, baby. Fuck I need you.” You pulled off with a pop and climed into his lap. Both of you whimpered when you sank onto his length. The stretch was exquisite. Your pussy held him so tight. You ground your clit over his pubic bone while he fucked into you with a brutal pace. “You feel so good. M’not gonna last. Come for me, baby. I need it.” Your twat fluttered around him, milking him for all he was worth. You kissed once more fighting to hang on to the last tendrils of tenderness and warmth that you could.

“Stay. Please. Just for tonight” you whispered.

He tightened his grip on you. “Of course, sweetheart. All night.”

He hated to leave you but the sun rose like a beacon calling him away. If he didn’t leave then, he wouldn’t have ever left. Last time he stuck around and fell in love, he had to learn the hard way that he could never have this. Maybe he would call you the next time he swung through town. Maybe you’d spit in his face for bailing. He brushed the hair off your forehead and kissed your temple. “Bye, sweetheart.”

You woke when you heard the Impala roaring to life in your driveway. He left a square of paper with a phone number scrawled in pencil “I’ll always answer. -DW” You put on your robe, went down to your cauldron and threw it in with a few bundles of sage and some witch hazel to sever any feelings. On the next full moon, you’d do a cord cutting to make sure it sticks.

“See you around, handsome.” In his eleven hour drive back to the bunker, any feelings that you have would slowly fade. The two of you would go back to being too afraid to feel and far too afraid to fall in love. Dean wouldn’t hear from you again. He wouldn’t really remember where you lived. But, every time he drove through Michigan, he’d feel a twinge in his chest. And, no matter how many rituals you did, you’d feel him too.