#thah one fucked me up good
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Hands of hips looking down shaking my head I don't know how to sugarcoat this so I won't but signs is so much better than nope. I don't know how people even say the movie aged bad. I think the feelings they have for the director cloud their view (I don't even know how either of his names). You got a 1:30hs movie vs a 2hs movie (I'm cutting the 10 minutes of credit for both) where in one you are never bored and are gripped by emotions and the other where you sit waiting for anything to happen. Like I'm sorry but there's no fight here. Hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby.
#luly talks#like i never questioned a thing ppl did during i got dizzy#holy fuck#um. fuck was i saying thst was a lot um#ah yeah. no aside from jupe everyone else is weak as fuck in nope writing wise. when angel was almodt getting killed i was there like 😐#while i went thru a whole back and froth w Merrill from hating to loving him#signs has a lot of soul. AND A SOLID FUCKING MESSAGE. UNLIKE SOMEONEEE TELLING YOU TO KILL ONE OF A KID NON INVASIVE SPECIES#I'M SO MAD ABOUT WHAT THEY DID TO MY GIRL#AT LEAST THE ONE ALIEN THEY KILLED IN SIGNS WAS LIKE. *ONE*.#the rest of his kind just fucked off and also he was a PETTY ASSHOLE#so you know it's justified. bc whah they did in nope wasn't#im so mad i dont wanna be mad i wanna be happy thinking of a family who is shown to deeply love each other#nope wishes.#also the later has nothing scary at all like. it's a bit uncomfortable but 2002 alien man had me jumping in place screaming man.#saw a shadow outside its the fucking birthday alien coming to. touch my neck with his fingers or something.#last time this happened was when i watched the first evil desf#and before that it was the second coming#thah one fucked me up good#the bigger public is just wrong about horror movies but i get it. i get it like no one gets it.
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hiiii do u have like, any advice on how to be more slutty/hookup with lotsa people? i see u post about it all the time and i wanna do it too 🥺
Awe I so love this ask. It made me all happy that I’m like someone that could get an ask about being slutty and hooking up. Not sure I’m the best at advice but I do like a chance to ramble on about stuff I like. Which slutty def is stuff I like lol
So I think there’s like too points w this. One is meeting the people. And second is the getting fucked part. Def feel like the first part is the harder part. Especially cause like I def still consider myself a bit of an anxious homebody. I think the apps are prolly like the easiest way to meet people but like you also deal w more time wasters. I’ve only been on one app, feeld, I like it but I have no comparisons (unless you count Fetlife which I don’t recommend for meeting hookups). Part of why I like feeld tho was I felt like it didn’t come off bad to not have a face pic on my profile and then I felt more comfortable being more straightforward about what I was looking forward. I do think if you do the apps you gotta be more straight forward and blunt about what you’re looking for and work on getting better at identifying those just who will just waist your time. I do generally aim to meet people quickly. Def encountered people who seem like they are just there to chat and I’m so not about that. Or they can’t lead things enough for me to thing it’d be a good fit, I rule Thah out fairly quick too. I also don’t feel like I’m doing anything that special on the app, like have some body pics in like dresses I wear out, and idk exactly what I have on my profile but it is very like I’m ideally looking for someone who can be more a fwb, like the friend part would be nice but also not a requirement. And something about big cocks.
I’m not as about meeting people in person bc I basically don’t like to go anywhere by myself other than like to the grocery stores. And like I dress up kinda when I go to the store and have had some guys start chat w me but like not a lot prolly bc I’m usually feeling more stressed there anyways. So I’m not as good w advice on that angle.
So part one, in summary, find a way or place you feel comfy meeting people and be straight forward about what you’re looking for. As a girl, I feel like the apps give you lots of guys to pick from. So like have priorities and no what you’re looking for. Like if tje goal is slutty they don’t have to be some perfect match.
The for what like I’m saying like the second part is w like the getting fucked part. The straightforwardness on the app I think def helps but I have then still went on to meet people who like aren’t as assertive as I’d like. Sometimes I think encouraging it is good. And other times I’m like nope, they aren’t a good fit. But like tbh they usually still got a blow job bc that made things a little more fun for me. I do have another post I’m gonna reblog that I made where I was like out things I try to do to encourage someone to be bolder about making a move or whatever. I think that kinda covers what I do to actually try to move it forward from just like meeting up w someone. And like maybe not the safest move, but like usually I’m inviting the guy back to my place after like meeting him for a drink or maybe dinner.
God damn I right a lot when it’s something I like. I think also like bad ar getting to a point quickly. And I have no idea what’s common sense or not. lol. Also I could very happily ramble on more about stuff if it seems like there’s anything I could be helpful w. I’m allll for encouraging more slutty.
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GingerPilotWeek2023
"Oh no, he's hot!"
Poe was tired, cold and hungry. And in pain. Stormtroopers took him off interrogation chair and sat him down on a regular one. He was cuffed to the table and left alone. Pilot sighed trying to sit straight. He was worried about his ship… And BB. He hoped they didn't destroy him as they captured them both. He lifted his head when someone entered the room. Poe looked at him and licked lips nervously. He remembered him from First Order holos but… Ah well. Holos are blue. And he was ginger. Lean and tall. With bright green eyes. Just… Exactly his type. And Poe was tired okey? Exhausted and the only thing he could think at that moment was Damn. He is hot as fuck.
Hux placed a glass with (presumably) water before Poe and sat down.
"Drink up, commander." Poe glanced suspiciously at the glass.
"You are the general right? General Hux. Since when generals talk with common prisoners?" His voice was harsh. Silent. Not like him. Hux smiled leaning back on his chair.
"Since the prisoner is stupidly stubborn. Listen… You are not going anywhere, they will not come for you. I think you know that, already. So. Be wise, commander. We can come to some sort of agreement." Poe swallowed looking at Hux who took off his coat. He was doomed. Focus Dameron. Focus. The glass on the table looked tempting.
"It's just water."
Poe snorted "Sure, buddy. I am not that stupid."
" And how stupid are you?" Hux glanced at him. Poe shook his head slightly. It was hard to think. " you know… I have read about you." He rested chin on his hands "Poe Dameron. Best pilot of the Resistance. Spice runner. We could use your skills… "
Poe laughed.
"No thank you."
" That's your…
"Is that natural colour?" Hux blinked confused. "Your hair… " Poe added clearing his throat. Hux raised his eyebrow. "I… It must be some drugs you gave me i am talking nonsenses" he mumbled. Hux smiled amused watching him closly.
"It is. Quite common hair colouration on Arkanis where i am from. But… as I have learned not very common in other parts of galaxy. Certainly not on Yavin IV. Am I right? " pffaskin bastard.
"No. Nor the eyes. Or… Freckles… " Shut your mouth Poe. Shut up. Hux was still amused. Poe took a glass and lift it to his lips. It felt good. To drink something. It tasted like water. And he was thirsty, very thirsty. He looked at the glass in regret. Angry that there was nothing more in it. Hux stood up and took a carafe and poured more water into the glass. Poe swallowed and drank up another two glasses.
"Do you like it? My freckles?" Hux's smile was sharp as knife. And Poe felt dizzy almost. Shit. So there were drugs in that water. He blinked few times and took a deep breath.
"A little too much maybe." General laughed at that.
"I like you honesty, commander. Its a rarity here."
"Here?" Poe looked at him "In First Order? Troubles in paradise, general?" He was ignored.
"The hair, the eyes, the freckles. What else do you like about me?" Your ridiculous hat, your lips, they are looking soft. Your fingers, thin and long. Your voice. It's firm but almost sweet. Sweet like poison. Poe shook his head. There must be drugs in that water. "Well if you refuse talking with me i will have to call back interrogation team.."
"No." He said quickly "I… That was an… Actually question?"
"Yes."
"Well… I mean you are quite… Appealing but… I am not dating war criminals. No offence." Hux almost giggled.
"Non taken. You are entertaining. Especially after drugs."
"Ha! There were drugs in thah water! Liar!" Poe laughed in triumph, his head spinning, his body weirdly warm.
"Yes, commander..i thought you are not that stupid. Are you alright?"
"Never better, sweetheart. "He mumbled.
"Good. Now. Will you tell me? Where is your base.? I will appreciate that."
"For a kiss." Hux blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"I will tell you if you kiss me." Poe grinned losing any self control. "You are fucking stunning. I will tell you anything for…
"Enough. That's enough. I will kiss you if you tell me."
"I am not that stupid, starlight." He could promise Hux was blushing. He laughed. That was fun. He felt warm, relaxed. He was not in pain. That was nice. Really, really nice. Oh. Oh kiff… Hux stood up and sat down on the table next to him and lifted his chin with two fingers.
"Listen, Flyboy. You will get much more than the kiss out of this if you answer my questions. You are alone. No one will help you. I am offering an easy way out. Just tell me what i need to know. And you will get your kiss, nice room and maybe more." He clenched hand on Poe's jaw. Painfully. "but be stubborn and i will destroy you" he hissed "piece by piece… You will beg me for death and i will refuse. You will feel every second of your life and it. Will. Be. Painful." He took away his hand. Poe swallowed processing his words for a few more minutes. His mind was slowing down. You are alone. No one will help you. An easy way out. A kiss and a room. He blinked few times feeling as Hux brushed his hair back. " You are losing time, commander." He whispered" i don't have all day."
Poe wanted to lean on him. Hide face into his chest. Let him hold himself. He wanted his touch, his attention, anything. But it was the drug. He knew that. He might be attracted to an enemy but not like that. He knew himself. Poe straighten his back fighting for breath and trying to bring back clarity of his mind. Hux's eyes were not helping. At all. He swallowed and shook his head very slowly.
"Sorry. " he mumbled trying to keep himself straight and shook his head again" Not an option. That's my friends down there. On the base. Do with me whatever you want. You will not get anything on them" he pressed his lips because it was physically painful to deny Hux right now. He wanted to scream when general stopped touching his hair. He took a deep shaky breath. He expected to see hate in Hux's eyes but there was something else.
Respect. And It helped. Immensely.
" As you wish. But remember that i wanted to spare you this." Poe shivered seeing Kylo Ren entering the room " He is yours." Hux glanced at the knight. " but leave him alive. He might be useful." His eyes stopped on Poe for the last time, and he left.
Dameron was rescued after few days. But he saw those eyes in dreams for the rest of his life.
#gingerpilot#armitage hux#poe dameron#gingerpilotweek2023#tw drugs#shady first order drugs#woohoo is't gingerpilot week!
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Do not play code vein
It's not a bad gane it's just not a good one imo
It started as like a B tier dark souls and then it kept rising and falling between from B to C to D to C back to just being okay again. Like not a even a actual B or C, just this state of okayness that was neither remarkable nor despicable.
Final boss is such a pain in the ass that I'm fine with just leaving it there.
It's not even a souls gane it's most accurately a somewhat generic action rpg that marketed itself as a dark souls like but was if anything more closely resembling God Eater which I'm pretty sure was a Bandi Namco rip off of Capcom's monster hunter but instead of monsters they were capital M. MONSTERS LIKE DEMOSN ITSNT THAH FUCKED UP and it's all just kinda messed amoung the grey.
I burned through it in like a week or so. Wanna say 40 hours. What a wasted 40 hours. Idk after awhile it just sucked and didn't get any better. Just kept sucking harder and harder til I just didn't care anymore was willing to skip cutscenes and entire areas just to get over it which I only do when a gane really gets on my nerves that much cause I make an effort to take everything in.
Like 3/10
This gane doesn't even feel like it deserves the title of dark souls like. It's a God Eater-er cause jt was essentially based on that series or whatever I couldn't even tell you what it was about cause it just kinda looks lame to me.
It just falls into the area of game like genshin impact and cookie run where the only fun your actually having is with the story and even then it's not enough to keep me hooked. I'm letting this white Whale go, I'm not starting beef with fish for Christ's sake.
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NSFW Alphabet - Yang Jeongin (m)
A - Aftercare
Despite being on the more inexperienced side, I think Jeongin is responsible enough to know that aftercare is a must following sex, whether it be making sure you both are properly hydrated or helping you change the bed sheets. Because he’s usually babied by his members, this sweet boy treasures each moment he’s able to take care of you for a change though he won’t say no if you request to be the bigger spoon for a night or two.
B - Body Part
Seeing as our dear maknae has apparently gotten buff somewhere over the years, he likely takes pride in his biceps and arms in general as he damn well should. We’ll go more in depth about it later, but let’s just say Innie likes to use his strength in more ways than one… Moving on, Jeongin will never not be a fan of your neck. Mans has a bit of a marking tendency, but hormones aside, Jeongin’s in love with your scent, which seems to be more pungent around thah area. Plus, the crook of your neck also makes a good hiding place when he’s shy.
C - Cum
The only place this man’s cumming is in a condom. He may not be a baby anymore, but he doesn’t want any other baby Jeongins showing up anytime soon. Changbin is already a handful enough as it is…
D - Dirty Secret
Now it’s a bit out of the element here, but Jeongin sometimes gets tired of being coddled by his members. That being said, he’s had some fantasies about proving his growness—fantasies that may or may not include getting caught eating you out until you’re a literal puddle by Chan or Hyunjin, or maybe fucking you into the wall just in time for Changbin or Seungmin to walk through the door. Not wanting to disrespect you or anything, he prefers to keep these thoughts to himself… just don’t ask questions if he starts to get a little handsy during movie nights with the other boys.
E - Experience
Like most of the younger Stray Kids members, I don’t think he has too much sexual experience. He’s probably made out with a girl or two over the years, maybe felt her up a bit, but that’s as far as his hands-on exploration goes. Even so, he probably has a general idea of how things are supposed to go, generously provided by stories from his members and the wonders of porn.
F - Favorite Position
Due to his lack of sexual practice, Jeongin probably has not found his all-time favorite position just yet. He’s eager to try everything he possibly can, so expect to be blown away literally every time y’all do the do.
G - Goofy
Jeongin doesn’t mind getting a little silly during sex every once and a while, but he also knows that a more sensual, serious mood is needed too. The first few times will definitely be more casual and light-hearted, kept alive by his playful grin and mischevious fingers. But even as you two begin to become more mature, that same youthful atmosphere will remain, making it feel like the first time every time.
H - Hair
He probably just lets it do it’s own thing honestly. As long as it doesn’t get too unruly, he doesn’t mind it all that much.
I - Intimacy
Seeing he’s likely never been in a serious relationship before you, he’s all about the ideal, romantic aspect of love making. And while there won’t necessarily be rose petals and silk sheets every time you guys have sex, he knows how to make you feel loved and wanted with just his touch alone. Eye contact is also a huge must for Jeongin—he needs to see your face in the moment, to watch the pleasure overtake your body as he brings you to a headspace only few have the privilege to witness. It may sound cheesy, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he has a secret plan to marry you one day, already knowing you’re his forever person.
J - Jack Off
Innie is young, so it’s no surprise his hormones are a bit on the overwhelming side at times. For him, getting off largely depends on if and when he has a moment to himself, which is quite rare between his busy schedule and lack of privacy in the dorm. That being said, he probably masturbates no more than three times a week. If that.
K - Kink
Alright hoes, I’m gonna start this off by saying Jeongin damn well has some sort of strength kink. We’ve all seen the size of those arms. Now he wouldn’t necessarily manhandle you, but if the moment requires him to pick you up by your thighs, or maybe pin your wrists to the bed cause you’re getting a little too frisky, then a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. He also has a HUGE thing when you get all dressed up for him, whether it be in a dress/suit or a lingerie set. Some other honorable mentions of his include marking, praise, and the occasional teasing.
L - Location
Please, please, PLEASE let this man take you against the wall, or anywhere that lets him show off his strength. He turns into some type of beast, I swear—Bonus points if y’all have the dorm to yourselves, because then he will literally take you against every single surface…
M - Motivation
The second you compliment him, this man will be literal putty in your hands. He loves, and I mean LOVES, when you praise him for his stage performances or MV scenes. And don’t let him catch you watching his fancams… or else prepared to get dicked into next year~
N - NO
BDSM is completely off the table for Jeongin. While he doesn’t mind trying something new every so often, he’s just not comfortable treading into the kind of intense territory that would require use of a safe word. He’s also just not a fan of power dynamics in general.
O - Oral
Sorry fam, oral is just not it for Jeongin. It’s nothing against you, he just doesn’t prefer blow jobs because of his tendency to finish too early, and he’d much rather practice other methods of foreplay to get you both off.
P - Pace
In the beginning stages of your relationship, Innie used to utilize a rapid, sloppy pace. After obtaining more experience, his stroke game is much, much better and more fluid, though he sometimes tends to revert back to an awkward pace when he’s close to climax. But like everyone, his skill and confidence will grow more over time.
Q - Quickie
The only time he’ll settle for a quickie is if he’s completely and totally desperate for your touch. But even then, he needs to be sure your session will take place in an environment that is both private and isolated from any other people. But once he’s comfortable and secure, he’ll drive you into the nearest wall with no further hesitation whatsoever.
R - Risk
Nope, nope, nopity, nope. While the idea of getting caught makes him feel all the things, Jeongin would rather not risk anyone actually walking in on you two when you’re being less than innocent. Especially his members, because if they do, he knows he’ll never hear the end of it.
S - Stamina
He’s got pretty decent stamina. Jeongin can usually go for some foreplay and maybe two rounds depending on how exhausted he is from his schedule. Then again, on days he is a bit more on the tired side, he wouldn’t mind sitting back and letting you do most the work.
T - Toy
The most curious boy omg. Innie’s experience with toys probably stems from porn and the dark side of Reddit, so he’ll be utterly fascinated if you own any nifty gadgets of your own. And while I don’t think he’d actively shop for sex toys, he doesn’t mind spicing things up in the bedroom with a couple vibrators, restraints, or sensation play objects.
U - Unfair
Don’t let his adorable facade fool you—this boy can be the WORST tease on any given day. He’s the type of lover that will suggestively trail his hands across your breasts and thighs, then act all innocent when you call him out. Jeongin is also an expert in getting you to tell him what he wants to hear. For example, “You want me to make you cum, baby? How exactly do you want me to do that?…”
V - Volume
Honestly, this man is a moaning machine. And you may hear some cute little whimpers and whines in that mix too… At first, he was probably a bit bashful to make any noise in that context, but after some coaxing and needed praise from you, he’ll never try to be silent again.
W - Wild Card
Let me set the scene for you: You and Innie watching some horribly budgeted rom-com you found on Netflix, and literally just making fun of the entire movie. That is, until the two main leads start making out in the back of a car. Oh, this shuts you both right up, especially when clothes start coming off and the car windows begin to steam up. The scene ends eventually, but this awkward, sexually tense silence still remains between you and Jeongin, and when you look to your blushing lover, you find him poorly attempting to cover his raging hard on. Then, he clears his throat and cutely stutters, “S-So… You wanna… you know?…”
X - X-ray
He’s a bit below average: 4.5-5 inches. But he’s got some thickness to his name.
Y - Yearning
As already mentioned, Innie tends to hold back in regards to his sexual needs for fear of coming across as a horn dog. You two probably do the nasty at least once a week, but I guarantee you can raise that number if you sit your boyfriend down and explain the concept of a mutually beneficial relationship huehuehue.
Z - ZZZzzz
If there’s one thing that Jeongin loves most in the world, it’s being in your arms after a long and stressful day. Whether or not you choose to end the night with an orgasm or two, he’ll settle himself atop your body, using your breasts as his own personal pillows, and just let his tension melt away in the comforting warmth of your touch. And though he’d never admit it, sometimes he doesn’t really mind being babied after all…
#i honestly cant believe i actually wrote this...#wtf did this kid grow up?!?#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader smut#stray kids smut imagines#yang jeongin smut#yang jeongin x reader smut#kpop smut
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I haven't written much for the actual story lately but here! Have some more fluff!
It was one of the rare quiet moments amongst the group of young heroes (and an old Dwarf). They sat silently around their small fire, each of them weary from their recent travels.
They'd had a busy week after all; Kayle somehow managed to not only sleep with a magistrate's wife, but also his mother, and then proceeded to beat him in the ensuing honor duel. All whilst blacked out drunk and unable to recall any of it.
He and Nyah got engaged, she'd put their special dagger on her belt and was constantly thumbing the hilt or fiddling with the straps. It amused Jared to no end, a stupid grin appearing on his face every time he saw her doing it. No doubt the others would soon grow annoyed with how obnoxiously engaged the two were.
Brock, after winning several dice games and a cock fight, had come into possession of the deed to a gold mine, which he subsequently lost betting on how many beans were in a jar.
Oren had, well aside from a bit of drinking and general revelry, no one really ever knew what he got up to. He somehow managed to slip away each night and do who knows what.
So suffice it to say they were exhausted and no doubt appreciating the down time. No partying, no swooning fans, no hangovers to look forward to, and no monsters to look out for. Just a warm fire, the chirping crickets, and each others company.
He was enjoying the silence and calm, Nyah resting her head on his shoulder, her fingers intertwined with his. Absently chewing a piece of jerky he simply sat there gazing at the small crackling fire, thinking of nothing in particular and happy for the reprieve from his usual worries.
"Nyah.Jared. I just wanted to say sorry. That town would've been a great place for a wedding and I got us banned for life." Kayle lamented, breaking the long silence.
Nyah's head lifted, as Jared nearly choked on his jerky.
Before either of them could reply, Brock grunted with a mouthful of hard biscuit, "Technically, was yer cock what got us banned."
"Guys, it's fine. Really," Jared replied. "It's not the first town we've been banned from and it won't be the last knowing us." Jared chuckled.
"We thought we'd wait until there isn't a Dark Lord with a price on our heads anyway." Nyah chirped.
"Ye know, ye really should invite him to tha wedding. If it wasn' fer him, the two've ye might n'er have met." Brock said, matter of factly.
"None of us would." Said Kayle, eyeing the group. "I just realized, Jared, the boys and I never heard how you ended up in that ditch. Or The Legion. Or why you have such a murder boner for the Dark Lord."
Taking a sip from his canteen, Jared wiped his mouth and answered, "You first prettyboy." His mouth twisting in a faint smirk.
"Ha! Well if you insist." Kayle boomed.
"Oh gods, ye had'te get him started didn't'ye." Brock lamented.
"My father was a retired monster hunter, told me all these amazing stories about his adventures. The things he'd seen, the places he'd been, the women he'd… well they were great stories." He cleared his throat before continuing, "Once I was old enough to lift a stick, I started practicing. I decided I was going to be the greatest swordsman that ever lived. I'd travel the world, fight men and monsters, bed tavern wenches and princesses, living on my wits and skill."
"Oh get on with it!" Brock groaned.
Ignoring him completely, Kayle continued. "Well, turns out that's a lot harder than it sounds and I ended up going hungry more often than not. Adventuring doesn't pay the bills, so I took to selling my services. Bodyguard, debt collector, the occasional cuckolding of the odd nobleman. Ran in to Brock on a job and haven't been able to get rid of him since."
"I swear ahm gonna kneecap ye someday." Brock replied dryly.
"He told me a legend about a magic Dwarfen sword, and we set out the next day. Figured killing the Dark Lord would get my name in the stories."
"Wow." Jared said flatly.
"I thought it was a good story." Nyah chimed in, obviously trying to be nice.
"Well now I gotta know how you ended up shackled to this charmer." He asked. "Why're you after the Dark Lord Brock?"
The old Dwarf took a moment, gently scratching his chin and smoothing his beard. His eyes filled with memories, Jared knew the look well. Before he even spoke, Jared knew the old grumbler had lost someone.
"There aren't many Dwarfs left in thus world." He murmured sadly, gazing into the fire. "The Dark Lord saw to thah… so when two meet, is a rare thing." Brock paused and sighed before continuing, "Her name was Vurna."
"Wait there's Dwarf women?" Jared asked in confusion.
"Course there is ye twit! How'd'ye think it worked?"
"I… honestly I had no idea. I've just never seen one."
"Well, maybe ye should get out more. Now can ah finish mah bloody story lad? Or d'ye have more stupid questions?"
"Yeah. Sorry." Jared replied sheepishly.
"We were t'be married in secret so the Dark Lord an his agents wouldn't know about'us. Ah made our armbands and everything… but, before we could, they took her. The blacksmith who'd let me use his forge… must've thought they'd pay 'im. Stupid cunt was burned along with his forge 'fore I got mah hands on 'im." A single tear ran down Brock's cheek as he sniffled before continuing, "Ah tried t'drink mahself t'death an almost got there when this giant fuck starts goin' on 'bout how 'is Da worked with a famous Dwarf or some such nonsense."
"Kirik the unkillable for your information." Kayle interjected.
"Ah let 'I'm by me a drink an… well ye know he ne'er shuts up once he gets goin'."
"I'm sorry Brock…" Jared said solemnly.
"Ye think thah's sad? Should hear Oren's story." He gestured at the silent archer with his thumb.
Not entirely sure if the old Dwarf was fucking with him, Jared slowly looked to Nyah for confirmation. She saw his face and reading it immediately, she gently shook her head.
@hannahs-creations @emdop @kittensartswriting @themerrywriterreturns @create-and-procrastinate
#writeawayjake#writing#fiction#fantasy#stories#mywriting#oc's#wip#jared#nyah#brock#kayle#oren#foundfamily#Dawnbringer#Writeawayjake
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Discord Text Thread || Khoman ♥
Discord thread featuring: Khai and Roman @romanbeckett
When: December 24th (day & night)
Mentions: Landon Davies @davieslandon
Description: Roman texts Khai to forgive him after his voicemail. They start texting again later in the day and Khai is beyond fucked up and Roman once again expresses his concerns for him.
Trigger Warnings: HARD drug use, drug mentions, light sexting and dirty talk.(sorry this one is kinda looooong)
Roman.
babe. You’re forgiven. Shit happens. I just worry...which is one of my issues. I worry constantly about everything. Always afraid something will happen to you.
Khai.
I know, and I’ve been real careless. I didn’t mean to be a shit I was just... being stupid and fucked up
I hope you know I really don’t have a problem with you staying with Landon. Idek what my deal was
Roman.
are you sure it doesn’t bother you?
Khai.
I’m sure baby. I just want you two to have fun
Roman.
I’ll still see you there tomorrow right?
Khai.
of course you will. Fancy pjs and all lol
Roman.
oh my god I can’t wait lol
Khai.
me either. It’s gonna be an amazing day for sure
Roman.
I’ll be off work soon and I’ll bring us dinner
Khai.
I look forward to it! I’m starving
plus I really wanna kiss you
Roman.
I reallllly wanna kiss you too. Maybe we can sneak in a quickie
Khai.
maybe huh?
Roman.
okay definitely, because I want lol
Khai.
hahaha well I’m always down baby. You know I can’t keep my hands off of you.
- Later that same day -
Roman.
I miss you already
Khai.
Miss you too
Roman.
dinner and messing around was fun though. Best Christmas gift ever.
Khai.
it was fun indeed! I couldn’t agree more
Roman.
are you okay?
Khai.
yeah I’m okay why?
Roman.
idk just checking. I feel guilty now that I’m not there
Khai.
don’t feel guilty. I have my drugs and hot chocolate to keep me warm haha
Roman.
ooo what drugs lolll
Khai.
Just the usual.
I also have my tequila so I’m set lol
Roman.
damn. I do wish I was there
Khai.
I always wish you were here. But it’s okay. We will make out all day tomorrow
Roman.
yesss. Can we cook a late night breakfast for dinner together and watch Christmas movies
Khai.
absolutely! We can do whatever you want baby
Roman.
I'm having wiiiine
Khai.
mmm what kind?
Roman.
it's a good ass Pinot
Khai.
oooo im jelly
I’m half way through my tequila advent calendar haha I got behind
Roman.
Lmao omg babe!!! How much have you has?? lol
Khai.
like 6 so farv ? Lol
Roman.
FARV 😂
Khai.
oops haha
Roman.
I am laughing. I love you lol
if I was there, I’d be in your lap right now.
Khai.
I love you mooooore
yeah you would
Roman.
thighs on either side of you, straddling you with my forehead against yours, running my fingers through your hair...
Khai.
damn baby... don’t make me come there and crash your party
Roman.
SHSUSJEJEJEJENEJDJJE
why is my boyfriend so HOT
Khai.
because you were a good boy this year? haha
Roman.
well we both know THAT isn’t true lol
Khai.
hahahaha
well then idk. But my boyfriend is pretty fucking sexy too though
and lord knows I’ve been baaaaad
Roman.
we got lucky now if we could just keep our damn apartment
Khai.
I know... that would be nice wouldn’t it?
can’t have it all though I guess lol
Roman.
I still haven’t found a place and I’m stressed
Khai.
yeah, idk where I’m going either. Maybe we can go look together after Christmas
Roman.
yeah, let’s do that. Bleh. Anyway, don’t wanna bring down the mood!! How ya feelin?
Khai.
I’m feeling goodz how you feeling?
Roman.
goodz too I feel all warm and buzzy
Khai.
hahaha dammit
I’m glad baby. I want you to have fun just not to mush fun haha
Roman.
I won’t have too much fun. Not without youuuu
Khai.
good. Cause J like the sound o g that
Roman.
babe you’re wasted aren’t you
Khai.
yes I am ll
I misssh you
Roman.
omg mish. That’s so cute omg. I wanna hear you say it
Khai.
nooo hahaha
Roman.
mish mish mishhhh
Khai.
you’re so mean lol but I love youuu
Roman.
noooo I just think it’s adorable lol I love your typos. They make my life better.
Khai.
Mhm you mage my life begetter. I should prolly stip drinking now hahaha
Roman.
You probably should babe
Khai.
that tot out of hand fasty lol oops
Roman.
fasty omg you’re SO cute
Khai.
lmao wow I gives up
Roman.
I’m just imagining you saying all of this outloud, and it’s like making my night
Khai.
hahaha I’m glad. I’m imagning you laughing and it’s making my nifht too
Roman.
my squawking laugh god
Khai.
nooooo it’s the bstes laugh wver
and beast smile too
Roman.
I would argue that YOU have the best smile my love.
Khai.
Nope nope
Roman.
UM *picture of Khai’s smile*
Khai.
I look liek a weirro
Roman.
WHAT you’re crazy lol
Khai.
I’m crazy anout youuuuuu
I wanna snugs you
Roman.
me too. I love snuggling with you every night and it’s so weird when we don’t like !!! I’m so used to going to bed with you.
Khai.
it is weird. Indint like it
but Im gonna sleept in y it bed
Roman.
sleep in my bed any time you want love. You’ll like the new book I have
Khai.
ooooo
I wish you erre here
Roman.
I know. I do too. I miss those eyes. I also miss your scruff. That sounds so dumb, but I love the way it feelssss
Khai.
I love yyou
I’m gonna scrufff you up when I se you
Roman.
scruff up the inside of my thighs PLEASE AND THANKS
Khai.
you know j will
Roman.
god I love when you give me beard burn
Khai.
I thinks that the hottest thing yku ever said to me
I want you sinebws
Roman.
what can I say? I just love your head between my legs
Khai.
I love it too baby. I luv makings you deel good
Roman.
ugh I’m starting to get buzzed now lol
Khai.
hahaha dinally
this whol room is so pinky
spiking lol
yup nvm haha
Roman.
it’s so what?? Hahaha
spinning? Lol
Khai.
yessum Jm good
Roman.
bleh I worry about you.
Khai.
I’m oka I promisee
I hust miss you
Roman.
I miss you too. So much baby. Keep talking to me so I don’t have to miss you even more.
Khai.
what ya wanna talks about? Tell me ykyr favorite chrismas present
Roman.
you won’t believe me if I tell you lol
Khai.
yesss I whll
Roman.
everything you got me. You know me so well. I’m obsessed with all of it. Ugh. The jacket, the shoes?! The freaking clock. You really did so good.
Khai.
really? I’m so hapy you love it. I just wanted you to gave the best. You lok so good in those shows too
Roman.
you know exactly what I like and feel good in.
Khai.
cause I lover you
Roman.
I love you too. How are you feeling?
Khai.
sleepyyy
but good gaga
Roman.
baby I’m worried about you.
Khai.
why? I’m fdine
im jus laying in bed
Roman.
i don’t like that you’re doing heroin
Khai.
romsn it’s ojay
Roman.
but you’re not even making sense
Khai.
I ehould jus got to bed
Roman.
maybe but bleh idk I’m worried and I should be there
Khai.
no no, eont worry. I wsnt you to have fun.
Roman.
I know but ugh. I love you.
Khai.
I lowe you too
idknt wanna hpset you
Roman.
will you promise me you’ll try to stop?
Khai.
fan we talked about tbis latr?
Roman.
yeah of course
Khai.
I jus imn so tucked up
byt I wanba talk
Roman.
I know
Khai.
I love yky so mhch
Roman.
I love you too.
Khai.
I relly sm sorry. Ilm do better. Pleas have fhn tonight okay
Roman.
I’m worried to death about you
Khai.
I orimse Jm ok. I just nee to skep it off
Roman.
okay
Khai.
Smile is chrismaaaas
Roman.
lol okay, I smiled
Khai.
good boyyy
Roman.
lol hate you!!
Khai.
I knoooow but you lve me
Roman.
I definitely love you
Khai.
you’re my everything
Roman.
Khaiiiii. You’re making me smile so much it fucking hurts lol
Khai.
I mean itttt
you’re all I ever need
Roman.
god I think my heart is gonna explode lol you constantly wanna kill me
Khai.
nooo baby. I just want you tk know how mych I love you
and I am feelig better so thahs good
well jot better but less high lol
Roman.
lol!! Well. Bleh. Scared me there, not gonna lie.
Khai.
I’m sorry baby
I know I newd to stop it’s jus hard
Roman.
i know.
Khai.
We can talk about this after the holiday tho. I don’t wanna ruin it for anyone
Roman.
you’re not ruining anything for me. I promise.
Khai.
I hope not cause I’d never forgive myself
Roman.
babe. Don’t be silly. Everything’s okay *heart emoji*
Khai.
you’re the best do you know that?
Roman.
I’m not. But I’m glad you think so
Khai.
I know so.
#chats:roman#chats:discord#ft.roman#ft.landon#tw:hard drugs#tw:drug mention#tw:nsfw-ish#tw:light sexting#{Roman Beckett ;; my peanut butter chocolate cake with Kool-Aid}#//this whole thread dlknfl;sknv;xnvd#text.
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this is long and im so sorry
“Dont touch me” Nickel hisses, shifting away from Trophys hand while glaring at him.
“why?” Trophy asks in a smug voice. He contimues to mess with nickel. He keep reaching to try touching Nickels hair again and again, each time being more sudden than the last.
“Cause i dont like being touched!” Nickel says, getting more and more agitated and panicked, swats at the taller man with a shaky hand in a feeble attept to get him to stop.
“Thats a stupid reason” Trophy jeers, now using his entire hand and placing it on Nickels shoulders, head, and neck. He is borderline pulling his hair also. Trophy starts to use both of his hands and he starts stifling laughter as Nickel continues to get more and more panicked. It isnt long until poor boy starts to get overwhelmed. He starts shaking and, very soon after that, crying. Trophy stops for a moment, staring at the hyperventilating mess infront of him, berfore laughing.
“Are you really crying?” Trophy asks through laughter as Nickel pulls his hood over his head and burries his face in his arms. He still swats at Trophy.
“Thats so fucking pathetic!” He teases. That finally got Soap to snap and rush over to put an end to Trophys bullying. The woman quickly rushes over to where the two guys are, slapping Trophy.
“Trophy stop harrasing Nickel” Soap scolds, grabbing Trophys arms before he could reach for him again and lifts them away from Nickel. Nickel took this time to get out of the bar stool he was in to move to the settee in the main lobby and circled around the chair onto one of the seats, curling himself up and yanking his jackets hood over his head more than before.
“But its funny!” Trophy whines in a almost childish manner, yanking his wrists out of soaps tight grasp.
He looks around for where his prey went, and he let out an annoyed sigh and turns back to Soap while saying “You let him get away!”. Soap immediately gains an offended and angry look. Its almost similar to how a mother would look at a rebelious teenager.
Soap scoffs and responds, in an equally annoyed tone, “You where the only harrassing him and making him want to hide!”
While they are arguing, Nickels cat, Asher, quietly trotted to him. She quickly sits infront of when Nickel lay before bouncing up and crawling into his arms. Nickel hugs her back tightly.
“pfft, I dont care about if it hurts him, its funny” Trophy says, a uncaring and snarky tone in his voice. He paces over to the settee and leaning over the back of the seat and laying his hand on Nickels shoulder, smirking when he feels the latter tense and start to shake again under his palm.
“You gonna start crying more, you baby?” He mocks, hitting Nickel on the shoulder roughly as the latter shakes more and hugs the smokey grey cat tighter. He ignores Cheesy, who was sitting next to Nickel, telling him to stop, and he ignores anyone else to tells him to stop.
The only time he stops is when Asher finally has enough and stands up, still in Nickels arms, and hisses and swats at Trophy, who reels his hand back and walks away muttering about how stupid the grey cat was.
Asher lays back down and immediately goes back to purring and trying to comfort Nickel, who has yet to stop shaking but is noticably more calm now that Trophy is gone.
Sadly enough, that only marked the begining of Trophys harassment.
Many months after that Trophy bullys Nickel to the point of overwhelming him. And, when he shakes and cries, he makes fun of him for that while still harrassing him. It only makes Nickel feel worse. Most of the time, Trophy only mocks him and verbally abuses him and laughs when he reacts the way he does.
Sometimes, though, he will get physical.
He will do things like steal his box of stuff he collected at the forest and hold it to where he cant reach, randomly touch him and continue doing that, lightly tugging his hair for a long time, and, every so often, he will steal his bandana and hold it so where he cant reach and watch him and laugh at him try desperately to get it back.
Trophy keeps doing this throughout Paintbrushs and Fans elimination. He ignores everyone who tries to stop him, and he only will stop if its only of Nickels “Dumb Animals” who stops him, or if someone physically puts an end to his torment.
He doesnt even notice people treating him differently. He doesnt notice that people avoid him more, dont talk to him as much, and when they talk bad about him when hes not paying attention.
It happens less since Paintbrush arrived, since they always put an end to it quickly.
This goes on for almost two years. Until, Trophy finally causes something bad to happen.
Trophy was being physical, but this time he is hitting and tugging his hair. Trophys laughter filled the area as he sees Nickel start to shake. He continues hitting and tugging the latters hair, pulling his hands away when Nickel swats at them only to resume right when he stops depfending himself.
“Are you gonna cry? fucking Crybaby” he says, a cruel and terribly happy tone in his rude voice. He only continues on when tears start leaking down Nickels cheeks and he starts hyperventilating.
“Leave me alone, asshat” Nickel barks, his voice breaking due to tears. Trophy merely scoffs at this and attacks the smaller male more.
“No! Seeing you like this to too good to pass up!” Trophy smirks. He continues on like hes watching the most entertaining scene in his lifetime.
“Trophy stop” Paintbrush says, starting to get angry. They tower over the mentioned person, placing a hand onto his shoulder in a tight grip.
“why? its to funny seeing him like this!” Trophy says, shaking off Paintbrushes hand. He starts to make his movement quicker, and now Nickel is just covering his head with his arms in a weak attept to stop Trophy from reaching his hair. It doesnt work.
It wasnt until Trophy does a fast reach to touch Nickels face does shit really happen.
Right at Trophy did that, Nickel violently flinched away, now covering his face with his arms and letting out a loud, fearful yell of “Please stop!!”. While he screams that he collapses to the ground into a ball, shaking and crying while whispering “im sorry” and “please dont hurt me” over and over again in a panicked, muffled voice. His face digging into his knees and his head covered by his arms and hood.
Everyone stands still. Trophy is frozen in place, his arm still raised and a shocked and slightly confused expression in his face. He snaps back to reality quickly and he attempts to reach for him.
“H-hey man, cut that out-” Trophy tries to say before Paintbrush violently punches him to the ground.
“LOOK WHAT YOU DID YOU DUMBASS FUCKING ASSHOLE” They scream at Trophy, literally flaming in sheer rage and hatred, before calming down and turning their attention to Nickel. Paintbrush quickly walks over to the tiny man, crouching down to him.
“hey hey, it me. Its paintbrush. Im going to pick you up, ok?” Paintbrush asks, taking off their paint stained apron, dropping it on the floor, and carefully pulled Nickel into their arms. Nickel immediately wraps his arms and legs around Paintbrush’s torso and sobs into their chest.
“its ok, you are going to get hurt. Its ok” They whisper to Nickel as he shakes in their arms. They quickly walk up the stairs to Nickels room with Asher right behind them, not before stopping to spit on Trophys face and call him a terrible person.
Trophy just sits on the ground, wiping the spit off of his face and then holding his throbbing cheek.
“what the fuck” is the only thing Trophy mutters before Soap starts screaming about how stupid he is.
Once Paintbrush, Nickel, and Asher get to Nickels room, Paintbrush quickly grabs the key from the top of the doorframe and unlocks the room, slipping in with the cat. They immediately went to one of the beds, sat down, and started to comfort Nickel. It is easier that expected, because Nickel calmed down on the way to his room.
“shh, shh. Its ok. Its ok. Take deep breaths. Your not gonna get hurt. Nothing will happen too you” Paintbrush mutters to Nickel, rubbing his back as they felt the latter start to relax.
They both sat in silence as Nickel relaxed and came back from his panic attack. Soon enough, Nickel was sitting next to them, holding Asher and leaning against their side.
“hey paintbrush?” Nickel mumbles, almost too quietly for Paintbrush to hear. He is still leaning against them. “yes?” Paintbrush responds, curious of what Nickel would want to ask.
“Dont tell Baseball about this, Ok?” Nickel says, not looking up at the extremely tall person next to him. That takes Paintbrush offguard for a second, but the more they think about it, the more it makes sense.
If Baseball, undenyable the closest person to Nickel, finds out about the months of Trophy tormenting Nickel and what happened today, He would loose his mind and surely hospitalize Trophy, if not kill him. And after that happens, Baseball would hold it against Trophy for centuries. He would also become even more protective of Nickel thah he already is.
Paintbrush winces at that thought.
“I wont tell him” Paintbrush reassures. “-Now i gotta leave so i can go beat up Trophy” They say, getting up and walking out of the room. Nickel only hums in response, now fixated on Asher. Paintbrush shuts the hotel room door with a soft sigh before rage starts to boil in them again. They start speedwalking down the hallway and down the stairs, already getting angry at what Trophy did again.
from crow! bless
#writing#submission#ii#inanimate insanity#nickel ii#trophy ii#paintbrush ii#baseball ii#tw bullying#ask to tag!#sorry if the formatting isnt the same as how you sent it tumblr makes it weird
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Breakfast in Bed
A sequel to Home
Pairing: Gabriel x Winchester!sister reader
Summary: Gabriel starts his morning by savoring one of his favorite meals. You.
Written for:@spnkinkbingo
Square Filled: Domestic
Word Count: 1791
Tags/Warnings: Fluffy feels, oral sex (female receiving), pleasuring awake
It’s amazing how you already know he’s not there in the space beside you. You don’t even need to check, your arms heavy at your side as sleep keeps your thoughts slurring muzzy.
“Babe… what’rydo...?”
Gabriel’s surprised you manage to get that many words out before you slip back out of consciousness, though he can feel the way some parts of your brain are beginning to shake off the fog at the light pressure his mouth leaves as he presses a series of kisses down the center of your body.
There isn’t as much activity as he pushes your T-shirt up to your chest, exposing the softness of your stomach. Though, he aims to fix that, but before he does, he takes a moment to admire you, breath ghosting over you in warm, short waves.
Your skin, however, feels everything, from the sear of his fingers as he palms your waist to the gentle flick of his tongue, warm and wet along your hip. He can hear your nipples harden, cloth fibers giving the faintest of stretches as peaks form through your shirt.
He notes with pride the way goosebumps radiate from his touch, your brain cells firing in ways that suggest pleasure rather than alarm.
You draw the comforter up to your elbows, mistaking everything for a chill.
He smirks. "Can't have that, sweetheart."
His hands emerge from beneath the covers, gently cupping your breasts and drawing a breathy sigh from you. He loves every inch of your curves, how the lean hardness of your old life has faded beneath soft, well-nourished contours. He could spend hours appreciating them, but that's not on the menu for this morning.
His thumbs begins tracing a wide arc, starting at the edges of soft swells before moving toward the center. Round and round they go at a maddening pace, drawing your senses into awareness and making them stand on end despite the fact that you're still so very not awake.
Your body knows, a petulant whimper catching in your throat. Your need sparks; beautiful, fleeting hues across synapses that remind him of clusters of Christmas lights. You arch into his touch as he continues, feather light, drawing out the colors as he keeps himself just shy of reaching taut nubs.
They never reach them, and the spectrum that flares when he pulls his hands from your chest resonates closer to frustration.
That almost rouses you. Definiately arouses as he listens to the cadence of your heart get a little faster, your blood rushing lower.
You mumble something that suspiciously sounds like dick, though it’s hard for him to tell.
His lips give a wide stretch before descending upon your naval, hands teasing along your waist. They hook beneath the band of your underwear, dragging it down as his fingertips drink in the smoothness of your skin.
Cotton whispers along your thighs which shift in response, and he leaves the garment bunched around your knees. He could just snap them away, but you don’t like that. You want everything to be as normal as possible, and there’s something oddly rewarding to him about doing it all the “hard” way.
It’s been easier than he thought, living like a human rather than just pretending to be one. No magic snaps. No shortcuts. No mojo whatsoever (save the occasional indulgence in the bedroom), though he still doesn’t understand the need to spend so much time away from you.
Sure, you both have a keener appreciate for the time together, but he would regardless, knowing that your lifespan will pass by him in the blink of an eye.
He hasn’t told you that. He’s not sure how to, because he knows how difficult it is for you already. You try so hard to keep your insecurities hidden, but he can’t help but pick up on the questions that plague your mind late at night when you think he’s sleeping.
How long before my youth fades and I no longer catch his eye?
How long before the novelty wears off and he grows tired of me?
When will he realize he deserves so much more than I can give him?
He doesn’t. If anything you deserve more, but he has yet to find a way to make you believe that.
But, most moments you’re happy. With him. Together. And that’s all that matters.
He brings his mouth down at the edge of your hip, smiling at the way you wriggle as he hits a sensitive spot. He’s spent hours mapping them out, each one of them seared into his mind. What really amazes him is the way you’ve diligently memorized his as well, as much as you can anyway, given the limits of human cognition.
He’s never met anyone who’s so focused on him. On what he likes. His thoughts. His feelings. It’s like he’s as much your world as you are his, and he almost doesn’t know what to do with that.
Pleasure, however, now that’s an area he knows.
By the time he’s scraping his chin against your thigh he’s wearing a full on grin, the familiar tickle lighting up cells across your body and mind in ways he’s never seen with anyone else. It’s like you recognize him on a whole other level. With every fiber of your being, you brighten to him and only him, whether or not you’re awake.
When his tastebuds hit your folds you’re aware enough to hum, and your sweet tang erupts across his awareness like the finest of nectars. Your legs part unconsciously as he tongues deeper, gliding along your slit to lap up the juices already gathering there before lifting higher.
It isn’t until he reaches your clit that you finally float into consciousness, pleasure exploding across your neurons like fireworks in the night.
You gasp, hand shooting straight beneath the covers as your instincts immediately take over. A fullness spreads through his chest at the way your fingers simply slide through the tangle of curls at the back of his head, fondly stroking, when months ago, you would have wrenched him off you in panic.
“Mmm,” your fingers tighten in his hair as you arch into him. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”
“Just having some breakfast in bed,” he purrs before getting back to business.
He knows what you like, working his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves as his hands reach back up to your breasts. There’s no teasing this time as his fingers head straight for pebbled peaks, brushing lightly to watch those scintillating colors burst into flames before he gives your nipples a light pinch.
“Fuck, Gabe,” you groan, legs shifting as you try to shimmy your panties low enough to catch it with a foot.
He reaches down, assistance given in the quick snap of elastic. It draws a small white flicker of discomfort through your desire before quickly being drawn into it.
Your range of sexual appetites has been a pleasant surprise. You like roughness as much as tenderness, the day and mood determining where along the spectrum you lay. Right now, you’re happy to let him take the lead, knees eagerly falling open with their freedom as you wait for his next move.
“Take your shirt off,” he says. “I want to see you.”
You do, without hesitation, and before the garment even hits the floor he feels his chest stop moving.
It amazes him, how you're still able to do that. He's had many attractive paramours over the years, but looks have only held his interest for so long. Kali held his interest far longer than anyone, her tenacity reeling him back in every time he thought he might be ready to move on.
But you are different. As cliche as it sounds, you are the embodiment of beauty on every level possible, your mind and body lethal in their own right, but add your heart and soul to that mix and you are nothing short of stunning.
He can't imagine a time where you won't steal his breath or send a tremor of nerves dancing through his system.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”
“Shut up." It's a knee jerk response, false irritation trying to cover the shy tiny tint that blossoms across your face and tugs at the edge of your lips.
You've gotten much better at accepting compliments from him, and he's noticed it's only in the moments you feel vulnerable that you revert to deflection.
"You're such a dork - stop looking at me.”
He wonders if you realize just how many places you blush when you’re embarrassed? It’s not just your cheeks that get a dusting of pink, small rosy patches springing up across your chest and highlighting the tops of your breasts.
One day he'll find out just how many other shades he can paint your body on words and looks alone.
“Seriously, Gabe, if you don't get back to business, the only place you'll be dining this morning will be Louise's diner."
He holds back a chuckle, knowing his amusement would only rub salt into the rawness you feel beneath his gaze.
“Somebody’s demanding before they’ve had their coffee." He infuses just enough sarcasm to toe the line of snarky, a place he finds you feel the safest when exposed.
"Yeah, well…" You begin talking as he settles between your legs, hands smoothing up the back of your thighs as he hooks your knees over his shoulders.
"You knew what you were getting into when you -- ohhh."
You groan as the flat of his tongue immediately finds that sensitive spot again, licking broad strokes in ways he knows gets your blood flowing.
“Ah - You're too good at this." You throw your head back into your pillow, rocking yourself into his face.
He pauses, just to be a shit, his tongue freezing in place.
"Ith thah a complain'?" He smirks, watching the glow of vivid colors flare bright with burnt copper as he takes it another step further and withdraws his mouth. "Because if it is, you're welcome to--"
"Eat me, choir boy." You're only partially joking, fingers grasping strands of honey, tightening their grip before pushing him back into position.
This time he does chuckle, vibrations jolting your brain waves back to desire as he wisely doesn't argue. His goal isn’t to tease you, for once. Not much, anyway.
No, today is about savoring. You. These simple moments where he can pleasure you awake in the comfort of a home you’ve created together, a place where you can slip back into an endorphin-soaked haze without being interrupted while he whips you up an actual meal.
But first, he needs to finish his. After all, they say breakfast is the cornerstone of the day.
ALL the tags:
@girl-next-door-writes @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @lucifer-in-leather @blondecoffeecake @tistai @room-with-a-cat @authoressskr @revwinchester @flufy07 @tardis-is-mine @tangle-of-ivy @luciferseclipse @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectivedestiel @angelofwinchester17 @phantomwarrior12 @jeanjeaniethings @wontlookaway @copperseraphim @fandomsrourlives @archangelgabriellives @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mizzezm @disneymarina @zpandaqueen @idabbleincrazy @katekvnes @han68000 @brokencasbutt67-writer @crashdevlin @klinenovakwinchester @bofa-deans-nuts @sherlockedtash88 @lovelyhexbag
Gabe Squad:
@bloodstained-porcelain-doll @lacqueluster @baritonechick @samikitten @kazosa @nobodys-baby-now @acarpouschimerical @cipherwheeldecoder @megasimpleplan4ever @azlinh @fruitypieq @koithings @booknerd1324 @the-kryomancer @karichanarts @archangelashiah @calamity-chaos @erisunderthemoon @hankypranky @missihart23 @curious-trickster @gabegirrl86 @trickster-emissarie @sweetmisseddreams2002 @bun-dpdbny @greeneyedtrickster @marichromatic @ourloveisforthelovely @supernaturalways
@a-wing-and-a-pen
#gabriel x reader#gabriel#spnkinkbingo#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#supernatural reader insert#spn reader insert#gabriel fanfic#gabriel oneshot#spn gabriel#rabbit writes
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Do you know those persons thah you‘re really good friends with and are alwqys talking about how love is shit and they don‘t need it and don‘t want it but not in this „i was hurt“ but in this „oh ew i hate everyone in a relationship cause it‘s so cliché“ way? And then one day they are in a relationship and suddenly they are like this girlish cliché relationship girl? And then they get used to the relationship and gain back their character. But as they break up they are like „i didn‘t like being in a relationship. I‘m not a relationship person“ and then a year later they are in a relationship and have no time for you and are still like „but gurl - you - you are definitely a relationship person, like, the thing you just did, that‘s a perosnalit trait i want to see in a relationship! Gurl! You‘re gonna make someone very happy! Me on the other side, i‘m not that way“
And your just like.
I have been fucking. Single. My. Whole. Life. And you are. In. Your. Third. Relationship. And i know. If you ever break up with that dude. You‘ll be like. Ugh. I‘ll never have a relationship again. But you go girl. Until a year later. They — puff — suddenly have a boyfriend again.
Like
Just fucking admit that you‘re a relationship person.
Thanks.
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@ursy153 & @imberbimber, can I prevail on you two to read this chapter 3 and tell me your thoughts. I was editing it, and put more in, then edited that... and it’s 3am again. Also tumblr stole the italics, again.
-> “No Quick-Fix for the Common Cold” Unedited Ch3
Chapter 3: Getting Uber Your Differences
The world burns as if Pyro had turned their flamethrower on it, until it’s almost unbearable; then, without any warning whatsoever, turns icier than Spy’s heart.
Someone’s talking at him, he thinks, but he can’t be quite certain. Sounds like they’re asking… something he can’t seem to make out; the words, the sounds… they don’t make any kinda sense?
Failing to understand who or what is being spoken just heightens the sense that something is so very, incredibly wrong… like he was broken, or the world was. And just when he thinks he’s maybe grasped onto a familiar syllable or tone, the voices start again with new phrases that sound alien in origin.
He doesn’t know what they want…
What do they want?
He can’t tell these mystery beings he doesn’t understand what they’re trying to communicate, however. All chance to do so ceased what had to have been eons ago; his throat felt as if all of Dustbowl was trapped in there. Searing heat and burning sand that had never known rain, rubbing everything red-raw, eroding his voice all but completely.
Everything is… everything is nothing more than impressions and ideas. Shades of hot and cold that flush through his body, head to toe; wracking his overtired frame with shudders that make his joints ache. It feels... like the two teams are facing off against one another, and his body is the battleground; the clashing roams all over, different areas experience pain seemingly without any warning or pattern, before the war moves to a new capture point.
Sure, maybe that’s a weird-as-fuck analogy, but it’s all he has.
The only certainty in Scout’s mind is that he is at RED base right now… probably. He clings to the familiarity of that scenario… it’s all he can do to stay in the moment.
Red, Blue, battle, team, win, lose, war… game. The words mean everything and nothing.
There is no equilibrium, up and down are utterly subjective for the moment, but he doesn’t want to open his eyes and find out which is which. It seems so superfluous, so… unhelpful, to be aware of. All he knows is that his body shivers, aching and numb in odd little bursts that seemed designed to undermine his tenuous grip on reality.
But he could not sleep. It eluded him, any and all rest that might bring a moment’s peace… held so far out of reach that he could cry, if that were still an option.
And then, something changes.
At first, it feels imagined, like the phantom fingers that had held fast his throat earlier in the evening. The ones that dredged up one of his single worst memories, and saw the runner strike the Doctor, even though the man had only tried to help.
He hadn’t meant it…
Medic… so angry…
He didn’t mean to hurt the doctor…
Before he could concentrate on the thought, the memory... it happened again. Someone… touched him. And he felt his heartbeat accelerate in panic, as fingers brushed against shoulder, cheek, wrist, and finally, throat. He jerks back at the last tentative touch, not wanting to have to think about That Time again.
They said something, but it didn’t feel like it was for him; perhaps the other voices were sharing amongst themselves. That sounded like a thing they would do, right?
He is aware of something clamping firmly about his shoulder, a solid something to focus on, even as it causes overstressed senses to go on alert.
Why couldn’t he open his eyes and see who, or what, it was?
Why was that so hard all of a sudden?
The pressure decreases, as if they thought he wanted them away… as if they intended to leave; and he flails out, with an odd almost-word of a cry. He wanted them to stay, he didn’t want to be alone in this. Alone in the dark and unable to communicate.
Someone shouts in alarm, as he realises he’s struck something.
Had he done it again? He hadn’t meant to… you know, strike them; Scout just wanted them to stay, and couldn’t think of how else to tell these soft-voiced beings that. Especially as the cry from a moment ago refuses to make a repeat performance; his throat has closed for good or ill. Hah, probably because he was, ill that is. It was an oddly amusing thought.
Still, no matter how much Scout feels like he wants to scream and beg them to remain here; there is nothing emanating from his ravaged throat. And worst of all, the hand is gone… his one anchor had abandoned him.
It feels like an eternity before something else happens, and he Bostonian is aware of every passing second in the void. In a way you might never put properly into words; like the first time you experience respawn, and you find there can be no true description of the sensation in anything as crude as words, it simply is.
Every sense is overstimulated, trying to work out where the voices went, even if his eyes refused to open and ears failed to translate the words they had spoken. A muffled whine of alarm escapes as hands return, touching first the pulse of his wrist and then brushes at the one in his throat; the memory rises like a tidal wave and threatens to consume him.
As in many of the recent nightmares he’d had since the team’s reintegration; the ones so vivid that they wrenched him from sleep in a cold sweat, screaming for help, and spurring him on to seek out even the most rudimentary form of comfort. Funnily enough, Scout always seemed to end up in the Infirmary perched on a cot, or sitting in the soft armchair in Medic’s room; shaking and muttering gibberish as the memory faded slowly. The German physician always just sighed, wrapped the runner in a blanket, and provided him with a myriad of reassurances in a soothing tone. Sometimes the intervention was nothing more than the calming repetition of ‘all is vell und you are safe, hase’, along with a cup of some of the best hot cocoa the Scout had ever had; but it worked miracles. He never remembered falling asleep again after a nightmare, only what happened afterwards; when he’d wake up in his own bed the next morning, the rest of the team none the wiser of the previous night’s incidents.
Perhaps it did not show, but Scout had always been grateful for that.
The memory, so recent, etched so deeply on his mind, made him shudder once more. He would quite literally pay just about anything to erase it completely… to remove the sick flashes of little things that seemed to make it all the more realistic. The taste of dusty air heavy in his mouth, the groan of a wooden floor... that suddenly wasn’t, and the strong certainty of a rope looped about his neck, holding fast when his beloved Miss Pauling grew distracted in her attempts to save his life.
“Nnngg...ooooh… nnnnnoooo…” he manages, using what little energy he had left to exert enough control over his aching arms, in order to shove the intruding person away. “Nnnnooo… pl-...ss…”
“Crikey!” comes the startled response, and the runner cannot make hide nor hair of what it was supposed to mean. Only that the figure is close by still, hovering and uncertain what to do. Scout cannot really give them any suggestions, as he did not know himself. Nor could he think of himself as a singular being, at the moment… he was just a group of loosely connected aches and pains, extremes wrapped in confusion and left to suffer.
There’s someone else there too, he thinks; their voice is different but… he thinks he knows it. He can’t understand the words, exactly, but the tone is low and soothing; full of familiar sounds that might be phrases of comfort and explanation. It feels like they’re trying to tell him something, but it just doesn’t… translate.
But… most importantly, it feels safe. He wraps the cadence about his mind, almost like a physical thing, to block out The Memory… and it seems to work.
He tries to focus on them, he does. It’s a lot harder than he initially thought it would be, but they are patient. Up is down, the sun is cold, and his throat burns even as he struggles to make some verbal acknowledgement that he can sorta hear them. Can understand they are helping… but his mouth and brain are not on speaking terms.
And then someone is dabbing something cold on his lips… it’s cool and wonderful on the chapped flesh, with small dribbles of liquid seeping through. Not a lot, not enough to truly quench the burning in his throat, but even this taste of rain on the parched desert of his dry mouth is a blessing. It is appreciated, and he wants to say so… but all that comes out is a slurred, ‘Thah...kssss’.
“No problem kiddo,” sighs the voice, taking away the cool-wet thing, much to Scout’s distress. He knew that voice, he knew… knew who it belonged… to… why couldn’t… he think… of the… name?
“Kid, ya’in there?” they queried again, gently touching his shoulder. Then more vigorously, “C’mon Son, open those baby blues… we need ya ta stay with us.”
The hands that began to shake him were broad, and the voice familiar; but he couldn’t place them. His aching body protested the treatment, but the dribble of water seemed to be just what he had needed to finally feel the call of sleep. They were growing more frantic, and he… he really did want to respond, but… it was just so much easier to let himself drift off into the welcoming void of dreamless rest.
So he did.
~)0(~
Relentless banging jerked Medic back to something approaching consciousness. He shuffled upright, mind foggy and body aching from where he had fallen asleep over his desk… in what was possibly the worst possible position for someone his age. Ach, so much paperwork!
Donning his most scathing expression, Medic wrenches the Infirmary door open. “It is four in zhe verdammt morning, vhy zhe hell are you here?” he shouts, glaring daggers at the unexpected form of Sniper. The sharpshooter seemed oddly flustered, and had a welt on his neck that looked suspiciously like he’d taken a blow there, possibly due to a delirious teammate.
Medic immediately knew why he was there, but let Sniper explain the situation anyway.
“It’s Scout, mate. Looks like he’s gotten worse in the last little bit and Truckie said he’s real worried about the ankle-biter. He can’t seem to open his eyes or stay with us for more than a minute or two at a time… most of that is this weird strangled screaming, or trying to give you a good old shot to the chops.” Sniper grinned a little at that. “Oh, yeah, and Engie said the kid’s a lot hotter that anyone has a right to be… said he could feel the heat through his Gunslinger. Which I thought was impossible, but you never know with Truckie.”
“One moment,” Medic says, striding across the room for his bag; which had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor when the doctor had stormed in hours ago. “Yes, I seem to have everything I need, lead zhe vay, Herr Sniper.”
“You sure it’s just a cold, mate? Just seems to me like he’s gotten pretty bad real fast.” Sniper asked in his unobtrusive way. They’d never been overly close before… the whole Classics nonsense… and Medic dragging the man back from the dead had not improved relations overmuch. Still, he was less than totally indifferent towards the German, so there was that.
“Yes, vhatever zhis is, it has acted far more rapidly zhan anticipated.” Medic conceded, musing aloud. “But zhen, ve are not normal men… it vould not surprise me if the rapid acceleration of vhatever he has contracted vas in some vay linked to zhe fact his blood is most likely more than half BONK! at zhis point.”
Sniper huffed out an almost-laugh in response, more an acknowledgement, if anything. Medic was delighted, even if he hadn’t really been joking all that much; he was quite concerned with the youngest member’s continuous utilisation of that radioactive drink. It would be no great shock to anyone if it was altering the Scouts on a biomolecular level.
Reaching the room changed everything, however. The almost-companionable dynamic Medic had been sharing with Sniper was immediately crushed underneath the sudden realisation that pretty much the entirety of RED team was crammed inside the medium-sized Scout Class quarters. Those who did not quite fit, or had retreated to avoid being an accidental casualty, littered the hallway outside. The whole scenario sent Medic’s heart hammering wildly within the confines of his chest.
Many of the mercenaries present still harboured perfectly logical grudges against him, considering the whole situation with the Classics had been resolved not even three months prior; and even those who deigned to look past it, in the name of group cohesion, were still somewhat cagey about interacting with the good doctor. Holiday periods and feasts excluded, obviously, as both Thanksgiving and Smissmas had been delightful events where hatchets had been buried so that all may enjoy the celebrations.
The only problem… was that many of the mercenaries had recalled where, exactly, they’d buried them. Medic could see it in their faces as he entered, the brief flicker of mistrust that spoke volumes; he was not now, nor may never be, forgiven his transgressions. A fair call, from an objective perspective on the situation… but it still hurt Medic deeply to be alone in a room full of people he once considered family.
Individually he could bear their sullen stares and simmering ire, accept their curses and comments regarding his temporary defection as part of the road to reconciliation. There was time to hear them out, let them vent and talk them through it; but in a group, such as this, he held no chance.
A cold, clammy sweat broke out over the doctor’s entire body; though outwardly he managed to maintain some degree of his usual calm and collected persona. Though perhaps not as well as he had first anticipated; for Sniper, who always seemed to just know when someone was distressed, out a companionable hand to Medic’s back and steered the other through the crowd.
The others parted, silent as tombstones, but unlikely to stonewall this ‘home visit’ as it were, with the stoic sharp shooter standing guard. Of all those gathered, it could be said that Sniper had the greatest claim to mistrusting Medic; but if he chose to vouch for him, then no one on RED would contest it.
Slightly reassured, Medic found it possible to focus on the patient before him, and his hovering Texan guardian.
Engineer had taken a real shine to Pyro and Scout when they’d all originally arrived, liked to think of himself as some degree of father figure towards the pair; so when one of them went down for one reason or another, he was always there to throw down a dispenser to heal what ailed them, offer words of encouragement to keep going, or help them get a revenge kill. Engie tended to be a versatile paternal figure with more patience than most; he was perfect for the role he’d adopted.
In anycase, it was no great surprise to anyone that the builder had placed himself by the bedside of the team’s youngest member; monitoring Scout’s every breath and twitch like some sort of living medical monitor. Although, Medic himself had had a… well, a hand, in helping Engineer affix his Gunslinger; a [piece of technology for which the specifications were both impressive and ambiguous. There was a very real chance that the metallic hand lightly holding a concerningly limp, bandaged wrist, was taking an accurate reading of the runner’s resting pulse and oxygen saturations.
The silence was beginning to press, as Medic tried to perform a visual assessment of Scout; mentally comparing current observations with those he had taken earlier in the night. Indeed, the lack of proper response to stimuli was of concern, and the majority of symptoms appeared to have increased in severity over the previous hours. It seemed to be acting rapidly, though for all his medical knowledge, Medic could not think of what this could be outside of a rather virulent strain of a cold or flu. Those sorts of everyday infections tended to breed like wildfire in cities, after all; every person who contracted it mutating the disease to a degree before passing it on. Children, of course, were the most frequent carriers of the pathogens; therefore Medic was feeling quite confident in the prognosis, given the information the runner had imparted before their rather unfortunate encounter ended.
“Vhen did you first notice he vas in zhis state?” he enquired aloud, moving closer slowly, so as not to raise anyone’s hackles. “Or, I should ask, vas he conscious or coherent vhen you first saw to him… how long ago did zhis unresponsiveness start?”
“Ah… ah reckon it was about ten or eleven when ah came ta look in on him again after ya checked the boy over,” Engie answered, goggles fixed on Medic’s every movement. “He seemed a bit shaky, real tired and the like, but he was talkin’ a little. Said his throat was bad, but didn’t wanna be touched, and ah can respect that.”
Medic nods, both in affirmation and as a polite means of requesting that Engineer continue speaking. There’s a pause.
“He did say he wanted me ta tell ya he was right sorry about hittin’ ya, made me promise ta say it if ya came back and he’d finally gone ta sleep. Thought about comin’ ta getcha then, so he could at least hear me say it, might help him settle down and all, but ah couldn’t leave him. Didn’t wanna be left alone, see?” Engineer tossed a meaningful glare over his shoulder. “And ain’t none’a ya gonna hold that against him when he’s better, ya hear?”
After everything the team had been through, it was doubtful anyone would be callous enough to mock a teammate for finding comfort in the presence of another living being when they were unwell. Though many had a feeling it might be more aimed at the Spy, who had a tendency to prod each mercenary’s weak points when he felt rankled, or was just exceptionally bored and ready to start drama to relieve the doldrum of it all.
“Alrighty then, now that’s settled.” Engie turns back to face the Doctor. “About an hour back aways, me’n’Stretch thought he’d dropped off ta sleep finally. We were gonna switch out, so he wasn’t alone but ah could get some shuteye… when Scout starts shaking worse, mumbling and the like, and we realise he ain’t asleep… just can’t open his eyes. Tried to talk ta him, calm the little fella down, but then he clocked Sniper one… and went real still.”
Medic was nodding, half-listening to Engineer and focusing on the rabbit-face heartbeat under his stethoscope; the crackle was still there, but perhaps not as severe as earlier. Satisfied, he takes the runner’s hand, and pinches him. There was a full second where he thought the Texan was going to lay him out for the movement… but it passed, as the doctor tutted worriedly. There had been a slight flinch, but it was very weak.
“What’s the prognosis, doc?” prods the inventor, after Medic seems disinclined to elaborate on the purpose of his tutting.
For his part, Medic starts somewhat, as if he’d forgotten there were other people present. “Oh, yes. Vell, apart from zhe fact he did not respond properly to zhe external stimulus of pain… it is also apparent zhat he is somewhat dehydrated, given the lack of elasticity in his skin. Und, it vould most likely not be far off zhe mark to suggest he may not have eaten in approximately zhe same amount of time, given his sore zhroat. Neither of vhich vill be helping him.”
“You might be right there, mate. Truckie and I got a little bit of fluid in the ankle-biter earlier with the old cottonball method, but it didn’t sound like he was able to do anything even close to swallowing with a throat that scorched.” Sniper adds in his no-nonsense manner, quietly watching the physician who had brought him back to life not a few months back, lift one of Scout’s eyelids.
“Mmm, at least zhere seems to be some dilation occurring in zhe pupils…” Medic mutters to himself, snapping the penlight off as he straightens. “Indeed, Herr Sniper. I zhink it vould be best if he is moved to zhe infirmary so I can start some intravenous fluid und do further tests to see vhat else can be done to hasten zhe virus’ egress from our resident Scout. I vould caution you to perhaps consider laundering your attire and showering, to prevent any spread of infection; und, could someone tell… Her… zhat Scout vill not be able to attend any match in zhe foreseeable future, should Blu be returned in zhe next veek or so?”
“Of course, docteur.” Spy answered, materialising far closer to the bed than anyone would have assumed him to be. For once, the man does not take out a cigarette to smoke, with his ominous statement; clearly having heard and understood Medic’s warnings pertaining to potential contagion.
“Danke, Herr Spy.” he nods in acknowledgement, and turns to the problem of transporting Scout. Of course, he could carry him, but then he would have to leave the boy alone in order to retrieve his medical bag, and-...
“Doktor, I vould be happy to carry small Scout to infirmary for you.” Heavy offers, resolving the problem, and acting as if this wasn’t the first time they had exchanged more than a fleeting verbal exchange since being back at RED base. The Russian mountain of a man moved over to the small bed, slipping his hands under the ashen runner and lifting him with all the care one would take with a baby, or a puppy.
To be so large, to have such power and yet be so kind, so gentle and caring… it was one of the many reasons that Medic had loved the man. Well, before everything happened. Heavy’s curtness held more weight than that of the other members of their team, for the ‘good doktor’s betrayal had struck on many personal levels. Medic understood, and he bore the weight of such a burden silently.
“You have my thanks, Mi-... Herr Heavy, danke. Let me grab my zhings und I vill precede you to open zhe infirmary door…” Medic pauses as he clasps the bag shut, turning to address the rest of the room. “Und everyone else? I vill let you know in zhe morning vhat is happening vith zhe junge, or sooner should something change drastically, zhough I do not feel zhat is a distinct possibility in zhis case. Rest assured, from vhat he told me, it is most likely just an unintended Smissmas present from one of his nieces; for vhich rest und some fluids are zhe answer.”
There was grumbling, but not even Soldier had anything to say regarding the matter, so Medic decided now was the best time to take his leave of the room. Heavy followed behind at an even pace, cradling the runner carefully, as he had no doubt done for ill sisters in the past.
Neither man said anything; the only sound filling the corridor was the soft, wheezy rasp of Scout’s breathing.
And when it stuttered slightly, both men unobtrusively picked up their pace; urgent footfalls echoing throughout the seemingly never-ending corridors of the base complex.
~)0(~
- - - - - -
Tell me your thoughts, people... most has been re-edited, but thee’s about a quarter I can’t get to or i will fall asleep in the shower, as it’s 3am. Ch4 is well under way but I was double-checking this chapter for continuity, and... got distracted. Also 1 & 2 are on AO3, if you want to read them with italics and bodl in place... >.>
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CHAPTER 12!!!!!
Chapter 12
Relentless
“Damn that son of a bitch hits hard,” Jared panted, slumping into his stool.
“Sit down and shut up lad, let me have a look at ye’.” Said brock, tending to his eye. Reaching into the bucket of snow next to him Brock pulled out a large silver coin, pressing it against the swelling welt. The only good thing about fighting in the winter was that you could always pack some snow in it. Even seated Brock only came to eye level with Jared.
“How’s it look?” He asked.
“Ach, nothin' Nyah can't fix.” The old dwarf reassured him. “But fer now yer stuck with ol’ uncle Brock. Ya need to work yer way inside boy, slip that right o’ his and destroy ‘im.” Brock growled with his usual gruffness.
“Easy for you to say, it's not your head he's bashing in.” Jared snapped back.
“Oi lad, everyone's bigger than me but ya don't see mah ass whingin’.”
“I still don't understand why I had to be the one who signed up, why isn't Kayle here? He’s the size of a fucking barn, he'd be tearing this guy apart.”
“‘Aye exactly, folks bet on Kayle, no one's gonna bet on your scrawny arse. No offense intended laddy but we make more money this way.” Jared could see the bookie walking around taking bets, placing the audience members money into his hat.
“There's no way I'm i can beat him in a fair fig-
“Who thah bloody hell said anything about fightin’ fair?!” Brock bellowed. “This is a fight no’ a gentlemans duel. You do what ya have to ta win!”
“How do you know I'm gonna win?” Asked Jared with a furrowed brow.
“Well, cause you're a relentless little shit.” Brock replied. “And the meanest bastard ah know. Plus, you have a very good teacher.” he said with a wink.
As if on que the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next round. “Now. Go in there, an bury tha bastard.” Jared stood up, his cheek throbbing, and his lungs burning. Across the ring, if you could call the loose arrangement of hay bails and ropes a ring, his opponent stood up, easily ten years his elder, easily twice his weight, and no doubt at home in his current surroundings. But at least they were roughly the same height. The man looked like a bear; a broad chest, heavy rounded shoulders, long thick arms, and an entire body covered in black hair.
Gotta be something to go after, Jared thought. Gotta be an opening. The referee, also known as the least drunk man in the audience, beckoned them toward one another to begin the rounds festivities. Jared’s sharp eyes looked his adversary up and down, searching for a weakness to exploit. So far all he'd been able to deduce was that the man was capable with his hands, had been fighting for some time, and favored his right.
That'll have to do. He thought.
His opponent came flying at him, whipping a long left hook from under his shoulder. Jared barely had time to sidestep it, feeling the wind of the punch on his face. Immediately they followed it up with a quick one two, Jared managed to parry the jab with his palm but caught the straight right on his eyebrow. Not being one to lie back and take it, Jared quickly fired back a snapping right cross followed by flicking jab to block his opponents vision before sidestepping and slamming a right hand into the bastard’s kidney. Shuffling back to give himself some room he paused.
Above the raucous crowd he could here Brock screaming,
“Slip tha bloody right!!!”
He's right, Jared thought. Never gonna win trading punches. Alright, let's do it your way old man. Jared dropped his left hand towards his belly but leaving the right firmly cocked back near his cheek prepared for the inevitable onslaught.
Of course the bull rushed forward, more brawn than brain. The brute lurched forward throwing a wild right hook Jared leaned back slightly, letting the blow miss him by inches, and followed it with a snapping right hand to his opponent’s jaw. Making contact with a clear smacking sound. Stunned, the brute paused. Trying to make sense of what had just happened.
He came forward once more, again throwing a right at Jared’s head. However instead of dodging it, this time Jared stretched out his left arm, catching and trapping his opponent’s. In an instant the look on the brute’s face went from one of confusion to anger, to shock as the realization of what was coming took hold of him.
Jared’s fist came hurtling up, slamming into the brutes throat. Dishonorable? Maybe. Effective? Yes. The brute gasped for air and let out a sickening,
“Gack!!!” accompanied by a mist of blood. Jared let go of the man's arm. Not wanting to injure him any more than necessary. The bear desperately gasped for breath, falling to one knee and holding his throat.
Just stay down, Jared thought. The referee began counting,
“One! Two! Three!” when, to Jared’s amazement, the his opponent began standing back up.
Stupid proud bastard. Before the bear could get his composure Jared hurled an elbow that connected square on his jaw. He would not get up a second time.
The crowd went silent, except for the sound of clinking bottles and shuffling feet. He was afraid they might storm the ring or throw bottles at his head. However after what seemed like an eternity they erupted into applause.
Huh, how about That? He thought, surprised. The only one who stormed the ring was Brock, his stubby legs hurling him into Jared’s chest, choking him in an ecstatic embrace.
“Hahaaaaa! Ya did it lad! We’re gonna eat like kings for a month!” Brock quickly let go and rushed over to the bookie, greedily snatching the hat from his hand. Jared followed close behind, stopping at the stool to grab his shirt.
Brock swaggered toward the exit, kicking the door open and letting in the blinding white of the overcast of the day outside. Jared stepped outside, the cold air causing steam to waft and swirl from his scalp. As cold as it was, the fresh air was a welcome change from the stuffy, sweaty barn.
Taking in a deep breath Jared felt a sense of shame wash over him. For the first time he was ashamed of winning a fight. Being built the way he was, fighting fair was rarely an option. So why was he ashamed now?
He didn't have time to answer that question as a mass of curly red hair slammed into him, squeezing him so hard he thought he might break a rib. She let him go as quickly as she’d grabbed him and in a flash she had a hold of his face. Inspecting his eye, worried sick.
“Its nice to see you too Nyah.” Jared laughed, trying not to fall as she pulled his head down toward her. Furrowing her brow she pushed and prodded the swelling. “Nyah I'm fine really.” He chuckled.
“No you're not fine. Someone put their fist in your eye. Where is he I wanna talk to him.” She said scowling. Cupping her face in his hands he assured her,
“Nyah, I won. I'm fine.” He said with a smile. Brock chimed in while counting the coins they'd won,
“Thing a beauty Nyah, shoulda seen it.” She let out a long sigh,
�� “Fine. Let's get something to eat. And put some ice on that.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jared groaned, putting his shirt back on.
“Me too.” Brock barked. As they walked toward the local excuse for an inn, Jared looked around at the squalid mining camp they were passing through. Puddles of filth everywhere, brothels and taverns every other building. Until his sharp green eyes fell upon a woman sitting at the entrance of an alley.
In her arms, wrapped in a blanket was a squealing child. By the look of her, she’d been on the street a long while. The shame from earlier crept over him once again. Seeping into his bones, burning his blood, stinging his skin. Gritting his teeth he snatched the hat from Brock.
“What tha bloody hell are ye doing lad?!” he screamed. Jared trudged over to the woman and knelt down, handing it over to her. A Look of gratitude spread across her face followed by joyful tears. Jared gave her a friendly smile in response and placed his hand on her shoulder. “That was all our cash!” Brock continued. Jared stood up and began marching back toward the barn with fire in his eyes. Taking his shirt back off mid stride he responded,
“Then I guess we gotta make some more…”
#write#writing#mywriting#story#stories#mystories#fiction#fantasy#fight#boxing match#Dawnbringer#WriteAwayJake
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