#DELETED THE WIP no one needs to see that. look away

[ratedfleur]

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 mail incoming!

⋆˚˖° minji and noncon. °˖˚⋆

kim minji x fem reader    genre ౨ৎ smut

“imagine g!p minji was a perv.. and she was ur sister's bestfriend! (ur choice to choose who) and one day when ur sister was out to buy groceries minji use the opportunity to force herself on u :((( she was meann and likes to see you cry.. you're a crybaby though.. how pathetic!“

✏️: OMG super late response smh, this got buried in lots of requests TᴖT also i accidentally deleted the ask?! good thing i had it saved in my wip list.. also this is so mean, i don’t think i’ve ever written something like this 🥹

i could so see this happening especially you were to be hanni's younger sister. because of how close minji was with hanni, hanni would let you tag along on their hang outs or even she'd let minji accompany you if she couldn't.

unknowingly, minji had the hots for you. minji always took a liking on you, even before she and hanni became friends– that is exactly how she got to be close to you and that was through befriending a clueless hanni.

"minji-yah! y/n! do you need anything from 7-eleven? i'll buy ramyeon!" hanni asked from the foyer whilst you and minji were in the living room, watching a movie that you've been wanting to watch.

"nope!" minji answered back meanwhile your ears perked up, "eonnie! can you get me lychee jellies? the peelable ones!" you hollered back until you got a response from your older sister.

"okay, i'll call if i get there!" hanni says as she shut the door behind her.

finally, minji thought.

5 minutes pass by and minji's arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you close to her, you let it be since you saw how comfortable she became.

then minji started to move closer towards you, hand gripping your shoulder tightly. you hiss when you feel her nails digging into your skin, you even whimper as you look at minji, silently telling her to stop.

"m-minji.. it hurts.." you say to her, trying to pry minji's arm away from your shoulder. suddenly minji unravels her arm from your shoulder as she stands up, pushing your shoulders back onto the couch when you sat up.

whimpering as minji stared you down, your eyes start to glisten with tears, "eonnie, you're scaring me.. w-what did i do?" you say as a tear cascades down your cheek. minji leans down and wipes the tear of yours, "what did you not do, honey? you think you could get away with looking so pretty every time i'm around? it makes it so hard not to touch you, honey.." minji says as she starts to take her sweats off, stepping out of them along with her underwear.

your eyes shake when you see minji's cock, attempting to look away was not a choice because minji's hand holds onto the back of your head, forcing you to sit up as she angled her cock against your lips, smearing her leaking pre-cum all over your closed lips.

you refused to look or open your lips, keeping them shut as minji continued to try to get your mouth to open. unable to get you to open your mouth, minji's hand quickly slaps your cheek, making you gasp as you opened your eyes and looked up at her in disbelief.

"don't look at me like that, lovey.. it just makes me want to ruin you even more." minji says as she angles her cockhead towards your mouth once more, liking how you kept your mouth open as she sunk into your warm cavern.

the smile that creeps up on minji's face is eerie when she starts to thrust into your mouth, paying to mind to you gagging and to your hands scratching her lower back through her shirt as she begged you to stop.

you gag repeatedly as minji thrusts into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your mouth, "you feel so good, lovey.. i could fuck this slutty mouth of yours forever.." minji moans as she fucks your mouth harder, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as she bobs your head up and down her cock as she thrusts simulaneously.

your throat continues to gurgle around minji's cock that huge enough to leave no space in your mouth. minji was long and girthy with trimmed pubes, she liked to be clean and trimmed.

minji's adrenaline only keeps going when you look up at her with tears in your eyes, cascading down your cheeks as you gagged repeatedly around her cock. she simply thrusts harder and bobs your head up faster, loving the sound of you gagging.

"god, you're not doing the right thing if you want me to stop. i'll only fuck you if you keep doing this." minji pouts when she acts like you're moving on your own on her cock, bobbing your head up and down. she even fakely whines and begs for you to stop sucking her only for minji to laugh like a maniac as she bucks her hips into your mouth.

stilling your head with her cock buried deep into your mouth, minji pats your head sweetly, "can you make me cum, lovey?" minji asks before she pulls your head away from her cock, she makes you nod by moving your head even if you desperately tried to shake your head as you coughed.

she forces your mouth open once more before pushing your head down her cock, making you gag once more as she thrusts repeatedly into your mouth, moaning when your mouth only tightens up around her cock. minji's pace is relentless as she chases her orgasm knowing that hanni could come home and see her bestfriend devirginize her sister's mouth.

"oh my god lovey! i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna fucking cum! gotta make sure to swallow everything up, yeah? we can't leave any traces of what you did to me.." minji moans out as she bucks her hips harshly into your mouth, making you gag and cough around minji's cock when she stills her hips with her cock down your throat as she starts to release her hot cum into your warm cavern.

pulling away, minji's hand holds your cheeks roughly as she stares you down, "swallow it." she says as she watches you swallow every bit of her awfully bitter cum.

you gag when you swallow it all up, minji even forcefully opens your mouth to see if you swallowed everything up. seeing that you swallowed her cum up, she smiles with a glint in her eyes as she leans down to pick her sweats off of the ground and begins to dress herself up.

watching as minji began to compose herself, she was making sure there were no traces of what she has done to you. you began to cry, fat globs of tears start to cascade down your face as you hiccup, your chest starts to heave as you desperately tried to catch your own breath despite sobbing. 

minji coos as she pulls you close, making your head lean on her stomach as you cried, no words could be understood no matter how hard you tried to speak.

it was as if your angels came right in time when hanni arrived, a confused expression was on her face when she passed by the living room and saw you sobbing into minji's stomach. "the film was a bit too sad." minji says to hanni who simply blinked at her. 

but it was a comedy film.. hanni thought as she walked away, still hearing your intense sobs as minji tried to calm you down.

© RATEDFLEUR — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[moongreenlight]

Need more secret wife please 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday? WIP Wednesday.

Secret Wife p3 SMALL UPDATE that I have been hoarding like a dragon with treasure lol (I am riddled with guilt)

It takes Johnny upwards of two hours sat alone in his car in silence to fully process what just happened. He’d tried to ask a thousand follow up questions in some rapid-fire babble, but he was met with a wall of stony silence. Goes on stupidly for well over two minutes until Ghost knocks him with a cupped palm on his temple. Little rougher than could be considered friendly, but nowhere near harmful. Served to bring him back to earth.

“Take a breath, sergeant.”

The low rumble of Simon’s voice barely rises over the dull roar of the cars around them.

“Fuck off.”

Johnny looks less gobsmacked than he feels.

“Mind your manners.”

A bite. He must’ve quit smoking around you for the time being. Made him more waspish than usual.

“Cannae believe you, bastard. Kept a secret tha’ big from us all this time?”

Simon took a labored breath in. A sigh like the stiffness of his muscles was creating a vice around his lungs. He threw a sideways glance back toward your car a few aisles over. Like he was making sure you were still there and situated. Pursed his lips and rubbed the bridge of his nose while saying something about how Soap was to under no circumstance take you up on the dinner offer. Turned on his heel and made his way back over to you without a goodbye.

Johnny had half a mind to disobey out of sheer bull-headedness but decided against it just before he sent you a message on his last day of leave. Deleted the text he’d drafted and resigned to trying to press Simon more about things when they got back on base.

He tried, persistent bugger that he is, to pester his L.T. to give up more information. When the two of you’d gotten married. Why he hadn’t said anything. Why wasn’t he invited to the wedding? Was there a wedding? Does anyone else know? All fruitless. Snubbed each time.

He would have been offended if he hadn’t come to know Ghost so well over the years. He’s cagey at his warmest, so it’s no real surprise that he’s kept this under lock and key. The real shock came from the understanding that it happened at all in the first place. Johnny had a hard time wrapping his mind around someone as kind and welcoming as you somehow getting tangled with someone as stoic and brutish as Ghost. He tried to conjure up infinitely many situations where the two of you met and the coupling made sense, but he never stumbled on one that felt right.

Your went into labor over a month early. Just a few weeks after the boys had returned to base. Four hours before the boys were due to board a flight that would deploy them for three weeks. It was the only time Simon had ever been late to call. Johnny was sent to go track him down by an extraordinarily eggy Price.

He found him ready to leave, rifle slung over his back like a soldier. Pacing the hall outside your room in the bay. Down a short corridor in the back that usually hosted surgeries. He was whale-eyed and hostile toward the sound of Johnny’s boots echoing across the brick. It was jarring to see him so agitated. His hulking frame tangibly vibrating through the pounds of gear he was sporting. He truly considered just walking away. Spinning some tale about desertion because that seemed entirely less daunting than trying to corner an animal like Ghost.

Johnny eventually got him to leave. It was a non-option at this point, just a matter of getting the big bastard into the chopper. Tugging him away was like leashing a feral dog. He was fanatical, tugging at the lead and choking himself the entire way across the landing pad. Didn’t stop snarling until he was pushed down into his seat by Price and made to shut up.

[enhaven]

— polaroid love | yang jungwon

pairing: jungwon x reader

genre: fluff, romance, high school!au

word count: 1.5k

summary: wherein a series of polaroid pictures may be helping you realize your feelings towards jungwon

warnings: none really, just two mild swear words XD

a/n: i pulled memories from years ago for this but yeah it's been a while lol happy 20th to my baby wonie 🥺, wishing you the best for this milestone of your life 💕

— masterlist & wips — faq & navigation

"take pictures of me"

a high pitched voice alerts you at once, and it's unfortunately too cute for you to ignore each time he asks you that same phrase when you have a polaroid camera in your hands.

at any chance he gets.

you don’t mind it now, already getting used to the times when Jungwon would just come up to you for basically anything. in the past, you used to question why he acts like this towards you when he doesn’t to others. you’ve grown fond of him, his habits rather but that doesn’t mean that you don’t whisk him away each time he’s near you, be it during lunch or after school clubs.

he’s not hard to love really, with the way he cares for someone and how thoughtful he is in everything that he does, it’s no wonder that anyone would immediately fall in love with him easily.

not you, or yet you think. you’re not really sure at this point though your heart does this weird thing whenever he says your name these days. what’s strange is that you’ve known this as a sign since you’ve fallen in love before but you couldn’t figure out why you’ve been resisting it.

it’s definitely a you problem, not his but you don’t know what to do.

.

lunch is the only time where you can do this. developing the pictures from your polaroid which mostly consist of Jungwon posing cutely in each of them. honestly, you’ve been questioning why cause really could’ve deleted them but here you are instead, just because he’s been asking about it.

he was adamant about needing to have his own copies since he loves posting on socials.

and you, for whatever reason eventually complied, even choosing to do it now and here at school of all times.

looking at them one by one right now, you reminisce the times Jungwon made your heart race as you pick each one of the polaroid pictures. your heart races even more which freaks you out again even though you’re alone in this empty classroom so no one’s here to see you like this.

you’re dumb. really dumb for doing your best to not fall in love with him because it’s pointless. no one could blame you really with the amount of immature guys your age but Yang Jungwon’s different.

it’s funny how you’ve only realized it now, though you can’t exactly pinpoint when it started since you may have been feeling something for him without realizing it. this is not even complicated unlike your previous ones and you’re surprisingly loving the vibe of it, the feeling of falling in love.

you must’ve been staring at them intently that you didn’t realize someone was entering the room and sneaking up on you.

“do you finally love me?” the very familiar voice asks behind you and you let out a surprise shriek, getting up from the chair to give some distance from him.

“what the hell!” you’re not really annoyed but more so mortified that he, out of all people caught you at this kind of vulnerable moment. 

“answer the question y/n~” he starts as he leans a bit, tilting his head with a playful smile which you find very adorable.

and now you’re having a hard time suppressing the urge to smile back, hoping your face is not obvious but you already couldn’t look Jungwon in the eye.

"uh, what makes you say that?" you ask, trying to subdue your nerves by talking as calmly as you can as you return your gaze to him, to those very beautiful eyes of his.

eyes that caught yours in the first place.

"you have that look in your eyes..." he tells you with a teasing lilt in his voice, eyes shifting to his polaroid pictures laying on the desk.

what look dammit. is he really gonna make you confess right now—

"it's okay to admit it y/n…” he adds before looking back at you, eyes searching for something, probably a confirmation so you shoot him a glare in return. it’s a facade really to hide your embarrassment but it washed away quickly when you heard him say "i love you back anyways" quietly.

you were so stunned at his sudden declaration that you didn’t even realize he ran away before you could confront him about it.

so silly, you chuckle at his antics.

you’re debating if you should follow him or not but before you can decide, the bell rang so you had to hurry out to not miss the next period.

.

after your last class of the day, you immediately ditch your friends to look for Jungwon. they didn’t mind, not even asking you why though they probably have an inkling already after seeing you being restless at class earlier.

you have to catch Jungwon before he goes home, cause you might not be able to do this after today. fortunately, to your relief he’s still here, sitting by the benches outside with two of his close friends.

approaching their table, you dropped his polaroid pictures without a word which surprised everyone at the table, but not much for Jungwon.

he never thought you’d approach him first because it’s always been the other way around but he should’ve seen it coming when he ran away from you earlier. he wonders why you’re here other than the pictures, it couldn’t be just that, right?

“oh let’s look at these” his younger friend Riki suddenly picks one of the photos, looking at them with an amused smile.

for the first time, Jungwon feels shy because those pictures are specifically for you. he posed cutely in them for the sole purpose of wooing you but Riki’s like a younger brother to him since he only has an older sister so he doesn’t really mind. he met the latter from the dance club, easily befriending him when they both got closer due to being chosen to represent their school in the local dance competition against other schools.

“you look cute in them wonie!” his other friend, Sunoo adds, examining the rest of the pictures with adoration. he’s from a year above you both while Riki’s from a year below. but because Jungwon’s done summer school for some courses that made him pretty much more advanced than his peers, he’s sharing a few classes with Sunoo this school year.

“jungwon, can i talk to you for a minute?” 

it’s already embarrassing to approach them this way when he’s clearly in some serious talks with his friends but you had no choice. it’s now or never.

“sure!” he turns to his friends excitedly, about to say goodbye but Sunoo smiles brightly at you both, returning the pictures on the table before grabbing the complaining Riki with him as they both leave to let you guys talk. 

you smile gratefully in return, waving at them as they leave. you wouldn’t want those two to witness whatever more embarrassing things you might say to their friend. those two are already known in your school with Sunoo having quite a lot of friends and Riki’s status due to his dance achievements but you’ve never really talked to them before.

facing Jungwon now, you watch the challenging look in his eyes. but you didn’t miss the knowing smile, hoping it’s not because he already knew what all this is going to be.

“can you be my valentine?” you say as fast as you can to fight your increasing heartbeat. the nerves did go away when his smile turned into shock.

your question did surprise Jungwon a lot. he thought that you were here to talk about his quick confession earlier but he didn’t think that you’d ask him this. 

he was actually planning a grandiose proposal to ask you even knowing that you could reject him. 

but somehow Jungwon’s assured that you won’t. he’s indeed been annoying and clinging to you since the beginning of last year to get your attention but you’ve been softening to him lately so he’s confident and he was right.

“can you be mine too?”

“i asked first”

“well, i was going to ask you” he countered. “that’s why i was talking to Sunoo-hyung and Riki” he added.

“oh” you pause, nodding in understanding as a genuine smile appears on your face but your eyes hold that mischievous glint that Jungwon immediately recognized.

“but now you ruined it” he continues, now sulking a bit with his lips jutting out which made you laugh a little.

"how could i ruin it when it's for me?" you deadpan, your tone and smile teasing him further, causing his face to slowly become red.

"you asked me first and i said yes first so mine's more valid than yours," he says indignantly, huffing as he looks away from you which you find cute.

“okay wonie, let’s see how grand this surprise of yours is” you relent, stepping closer to him before planting a quick peck on his cheeks, making Jungwon’s eyes widen.

the boy’s totally flustered, which erupts another hearty giggle from you. he never thought you’d call him that let alone kiss him so he’s having a mix of delight and content of you reciprocating his feelings.

“i love you won” you add softly, looking sincerely into his eyes before walking away, leaving him still speechless at where he’s standing.

maybe it’s too early to tell him that but with how long you’ve been repressing this feeling, you’re pretty sure this time that it's certainly more than just a crush.

e/n: idk how i wrote this really cuz this is so out of my comfort zone since it's the first time that i've written an only fluff fic so i hope it's okay 😅. btw i based OC's inner turmoil on pola XD

[geralts-yenn]

Bonfire

Captain Syverson (Sandcastle) x reader (female reader, no race, body type or physical features mentioned other then blushing)

summary: After months you finally see Sy again. But how will he react to you after he cancelled his date before he left?

warnings:  fingering, oral (f and m receiving), protected p-i-v sex

word count: 6,7k

A/N: I had this in my WIPs for sooo long, probably wrote this three times, deleted, changed, wrote it again. Sy just didn't do what I wanted to. But when I stumbled over that gif I knew I had to finish this story and I think I am finally happy with everything. Hope you like it too.

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I'd love to get some feedback so please don't hesitate to reblog, comment, ask. Like all my fellow writers I long for every bit of interaction with my readers.

taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel @deandoesthingstome @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @ylva-syverson @ellethespaceunicorn

(please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

You feel lost. Why the hell did you even come here in the first place? This was Sy’s coming home party. And you two aren’t really friends. Maybe you could have become. Maybe even more. But time wasn’t on your side. You look over to the man that held your mind and heart captivated in the last year, without even being near you most of the time. 

You were surprised when you first saw him today. The buzz cut and the beard were new and unfamiliar. But it made him even more attractive. You wonder how it would feel to be kissed by him. Would his whiskers be soft or would they rub your soft skin and leave red marks?

You take in how he pulls his upper lip into his mouth, licking the beer from it. The next girl is coming over to him. You have watched them the whole evening: Making doe eyes at him, playing with their hair. All trying their best to get his attention. Of course, he had this effect not only on you. They all wanted him.

Well, you wouldn’t stand in their way. If Sy had had any interest in you, you would have heard from him. But he never called, he never texted, he never wrote. 

All your friends are enjoying the evening, drinking, talking and laughing by the fire. No one seems to notice that you don't join them. You walk away from the bonfire into the woods. 

You sit down on a rock and think about what led you to feel so sad.

May, one year ago:

You were excited to go to your friend’s wedding. It was the first event in your new life. You’d finally be able to get to know some of the people here. You had moved from Chicago to a small town in Texas. Your college roommate Megan had got you that amazing job offer that you couldn't decline. And, because she moved in with her fiancé, she even offered you her old apartment, which you gladly accepted. But the first few weeks in the new job had taken all your time. And Megan didn't have time to show you your new home in Texas either, she was occupied with her wedding. So you didn't know a lot of people yet.

When you saw him for the first time at the wedding, you immediately knew that you would fall for him. He was not only attractive, he had an aura of self-esteem and authority that you couldn’t call anything but ‘big dick energy’.

You watched him striding over to the bar. He took his drink from the bartender and turned, letting his gaze wander through the crowd. You realized too late that his head turned in your direction and when your looks met, you dropped your eyes to the floor hastily. Surely he could see you blush even from the opposite of the room. You walked over to your friend, trying to look like you were very much busy with something else as that gorgeous big guy. But to your shock, only a few moments later, he came over to you. 

He bent his head down to you and whispered: “No need to turn away darlin', I like being eye-fucked by beautiful women.” And he winked at you and walked away with a cocky smile spread over his face.

Now you were sure that everyone in the room could see your cheeks glow brightly. Megan grinned at you, she was near enough to overhear his words. 

“That was Sy. He's quite the charmer, right?” You covered your eyes with your hand. 

“Doing my best to embarrass myself at the first opportunity,” you said, grimacing. But Megan insisted that he didn't want to embarrass you but he was flirting. 

Over the evening, every now and then your look met Sy's. And every time, he gave you a smile. But you were glad that he didn't come over to talk to you anymore because you felt like you would only be stuttering. Especially after the wine you were drinking made your tongue heavy.

When Megan and her now-husband Fletcher had left, you decided to go home, too. You got to know some people and had fun during the evening but you still felt a bit like an outsider and you were too tired for conversations anyway. So you grabbed your cardigan and your purse and headed for the door.

As soon as you looked up, you saw Sy’s eyes, following you the whole way through the room. He had gotten rid of his jacket and his bow tie. The first buttons of his shirt were open now and the sleeves were rolled up over his elbows. That man was a fucking tease on legs and he knew exactly what he was doing. He was standing close to the exit, so you had no other choice as to walk past him. And when you were close enough, he saluted you with two fingers. 

“Sweet dreams, sugar! Hope I see you again soon.” You gave him a shy smile, not daring to speak. Sitting in the Uber that got you home, you wondered if he was talking like that to all the women today, or if he was curious about the ‘new girl’, or maybe he truly was interested in you.

It was unbearably hot the last few days and you were so happy to finally have a free weekend to spend with your new-found friends. Megan, you and a couple of other people had planned a trip to the beach. When you walked down the boardwalk you got really excited. You were a summer girl through and through and you loved the sea.

You were lying on a blanket, sipping on your drink and reading, when you heard some of the guys cheering. You looked up, thinking they were playing a game or something like that, when you saw them waving at someone. You turned around and almost choked on your lemonade when you saw who was walking up to your group. He was wearing camo shorts, a red shirt that was probably a size too small for him and some dark aviators. Like the first time you had seen him, Sy strode along with an attitude of big dick energy that took your breath away. 

After the wedding you couldn’t get him out of your mind anymore and so you were really disappointed that you hadn’t met him ever since. You had tried to subtly ask Megan about him, but of course she knew right away. She told you that he is in the army and he was always quite busy when he was on leave, working on his house, meeting friends and family. But yet you always hoped he would show up when you were out. Three months later you had given up and almost forgot about him, and that's the moment he appeared in your life again.

You turned back to reading your book, trying to look unaffected. But Megan dropped beside you the next moment.

"Look who has time for his friends today…" she said to you playfully. You closed your book and sat up, but instead of an answer, you just rolled your eyes at her. Sy had reached your group and greeted everyone with a nod and a smile. One of the guys handed him a beer can and they started talking. 

Megan, of course, couldn't stop teasing you. "So, how do you like him better, in a suit or with that tight shirt?" She grinned at you. "Damn, I should have waited until he went swimming for that question, I guess. It would be an easier decision then." 

You smacked her on her shoulder but both of you were giggling. "I don't think it would be an easy decision at all. He looks damn fine in a suit, but this shirt is… uh… nice, too. I doubt it can get any better." Megan knew you were going to learn soon how wrong you were so she just let out a loud belly laugh.

Sy looked over to you two, probably searching for the source of laughter. And you could tell the moment when he noticed you were there, too. His eyes got slightly wider and his mouth fell open for a second. He turned his head back to the guy he was talking to, but he seemed to be distracted, fiddling with his fingers, licking his lips and every so often squinting over in your direction. You were surprised to see him like that. This wasn't the confident guy you had seen until now. 

Megan saw it, too.  "D'ahw, he likes you, girl!" she remarked. 

You tried your best to act normal and apparently Sy found back to his cocky self after a while, too. But when he grabbed the back of his shirt to pull it over his head, you couldn’t keep your composure any longer. 

“Fuck me!” you mumbled under your breath. Megan shoved her elbow into your side, grinning. 

“Told you so!” she sing-songed into your ear. You both watched how Sy stepped into the water, diving into a wave. 

Megan’s husband Fletcher dropped down next to you. “Ladies, you are staring!” he said amusedly. 

You decided that you should go back to reading when Megan and Fletcher got up to get some sandwiches. But the book you read lead into a quite smutty scene exactly now that you tried to stop thinking about that half-naked hunk in the water. That didn’t help at all! You rolled over to lie on your stomach. At least you weren’t able to look at him now. 

Two pages later, a shadow fell upon you and your book. Followed by tiny cold drops of water dripping down your warm skin. You let out a shriek and turned to see who it was that startled you like that. You had to squint your eyes due to the sun, but it was very clear whose wide frame was standing in front of you. Sy threw a towel into the sand next to you and sat down.

“Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to make you scream like that.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a cocky smirk. "Watchu reading?” He nodded at your book. 

Oh no! You definitely didn’t want to tell him about that cheesy vampire smut. “Uhm, just a fantasy novel,” you muttered under your breath, hoping that this would be enough information for him. But you weren't lucky. 

“Fantasy? Really? I read a lot of fantasy stuff myself. What is it? Maybe I have read it, too.” Sy grabbed your book from between your arms faster than you could react. He turned it to look onto the cover. 

Sy amusedly raised an eyebrow when he saw the artwork and the title. “Hu, now that is probably still on my to-read-list,” he said with a deep chuckle. 

You wished the sand under you would just swallow you, so you didn’t have to look into these beautiful ocean blue eyes next to you ever again. You were mortified! As Sy noticed you not only blushing but also turning your head away from him, he shook his head. 

“Shush, hey, I’m just joking. I didn’t want to make you feel bad.” He laid your book down again onto your blanket and instead put his hand onto your shoulder. 

That was unexpected. But it felt good and somehow it made you feel more comfortable again. You turned to look into his face again and you noticed that the cheeky grin had disappeared and was replaced with a warm smile. 

“I’m Sy, by the way. But I guess someone already told you.” He looked over to Megan.

You nodded and gave him your name. “But I guess someone already told you,” you parroted him, which he answered with a smirk. “But Sy isn’t your real name, right?” you asked. Sy raised his right eyebrow and pulled up one corner of his mouth. He probably had to answer this question way too often. 

“Benjamin Jacob Syverson it is. But since there were four Ben’s in our football team we had to get creative with the nicknames.” He drew quotation marks into the air with his fingers at the word ‘creative’. “And somehow ‘Sy’ stuck with me. Even my sister calls me Sy now, which is quite stupid if you think about it.” There was that deep chuckle again that gave you goosebumps despite you lying in the warm Texas summer sun. 

Sy and you got to talk and you soon realized that he not only had a hypnotizing appeal, but he also was smart and your conversation with him just felt so easy and relaxed. Damn, you were falling hard for him. It was the second time you saw him, the first time you talked to him and there you were, totally smitten.

When Megan came back to you and practically pulled you with her into the water you were almost furious that she had interrupted your talk with Sy. But then you saw him following you into the waves and you couldn’t be mad at Megan anymore.

The rest of the day felt like a summer daydream. You were swimming, drinking, laughing. And all the time Sy was somewhere around you. In the evening Megan and Fletcher asked you to join them for a beach volleyball match. 

“We need a fourth person,” you said, looking around. 

Megan's cousin Terry came over to you. “I could join!” he suggested. But then Sy stood up and stepped between you and Terry.

“No offense, but it would be kind of unfair teaming her up with you, Terry. You would look like hobbits playing against giants. I think she needs a partner that is a little bit taller than you.” And yes, Sy looked ridiculous tall next to Terry. And broad. And sexy. 

So it was you and Sy against Fletcher and Megan. It was no surprise to you that Sy was very competitive. He went all in, throwing himself into the sand, sweat running down his bare back. You enjoyed every minute of it. In the end you won and before you could think, you found yourself jumping onto Sy, hugging him like a koala. 

He grabbed you by your thighs and chuckled. “That was worth the fight!”

In the next couple of weeks you met Sy sometimes at the bar or at gatherings with friends but to your disappointment you never got that close to him anymore like you did at that day on the beach. You were tempted to ask Fletcher for his phone number, but somehow you wanted him to make the next step. Maybe you were kind of old-fashioned but you wanted him to woo you. And so you were waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

And then there was this day in October, the sun was shining and you were driving home from your office, singing loud and wrong to your favorite songs. Ahead of you you noticed a truck standing in the dirt beside the road. The hood was open and you saw a pair of jeans leaning against the front. 

Okay, you were taught to be kind and offer help. But you were also a woman alone on an empty road. You struggled if you should stop. Reducing your speed, you carefully approached the car. And then you let out a snort when you saw who was standing at his broken truck. 

“Hey Sy, need a savior?” you asked him with a wide grin when you stopped next to him. He looked up from under the hood and answered with a surprised huff.

"I'm not sure what kind of help I need at all right now, darlin'. I thought I could fix that goddamn piece of scrap like I usually do. But it seems this time it's not that easy." Sy scrowled while scratching the back of his head with his greasy fingers.

You parked your car in front of his truck and got out to him. You leaned against the fender and looked onto the engine as if you had any idea how cars work. Well, to be honest, you looked at Sy's arms and hands that rested on some parts of which you had, of course, no idea what they were. Somehow this grime look, greasy and oily, affected you more than you would have guessed. As if you needed to be more drawn to that guy as you already were.

Sy ruttled on some cables, according to his facial expression not with any success. "Sugar, can you get into the car and try to start it?"

You climbed into the driver's cabin and adjusted the seat a good amount forward so you'd be able to get to the pedals. You turned the keys but the car just spat out some sad noises.

Sy shook his head and worked on some other cables. "Once more, please?"

You tried again but there was no change. The engine didn't start.

Sy dropped the hood shut and kicked against the tyre. "That damn marten probably munched on my cables again. I'm gonna kill that little bastard!"

He got to the driver's cabin and held out his hand. "Can you give me a ride into town, darlin'?"

"Sure!" you answered, although your voice didn't sound sure at all. You put your hand in his and jumped to the ground. But you didn't expect that fluttering feeling that suddenly hit your stomach and so you stumbled forwards. 

Sy's arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush into his embrace. You didn't even feel embarrassed as you inhaled his scent while you stayed in his arms way too long for that accidental situation.

"You okay?" he asked you when you had finally managed to take a step back.

You nodded and gave him a smile. "Yeah, I'm just awful clumsy," you told him. 

Both of you got into your car, Sy looking ridiculously big in the passenger's seat of your Toyota Yaris. You turned down the volume of the radio and talked with him for a few miles. 

"You really care for your truck, don't you?" you asked him. You had noticed that although it was an old model it was very well maintained.

Sy gave you a strange look, somehow sad. "Yes. I really hope it's just that stupid rodent again and nothing more serious. The truck was my dad's! He gave it to me on my 16th birthday. It was old even back then but it was mine." He took a deep breath before he continued. "I lost my dad half a year later. He didn't come back from Iraq."

"Oh!" Your hand reached out to his and pressed it slightly. This time you were prepared for the sensation of feeling his warmth. "I'm sorry," you said in loss of other words.

A silence fell upon you that wasn't actually uncomfortable but after some time you felt like you needed to say something.

"So, where can I drop you off? Some repair shop?" Sy shook his head.

"No, I'm just texting my cousin to go fetch the car and I'll fix it on my own. Could you please drive me home?"

You nodded and continued to drive in silence until you made it to town. Sy cleared his throat like he wanted to say something, but didn't continue. At the next crossroad you turned left. Sy turned his head to you and finally started to speak.

"You know where I live?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, although he looked more amused than surprised. Heat crept up your cheeks and ears. You felt like a stalker. Probably because you were a stalker.  Megan had pointed out his house when you were driving by a few weeks ago. And maybe you had made a little detour sometimes since then, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. 

"It's a small town." You shrugged awkwardly and luckily he didn't seem to mind.

"That's true. How'chu like it here? A little bit different than Chicago, hu?" A grin spread over his face.

"Hell, yes, but in a good way. I know people are always talking about southern hospitality, but you know, it's really true. At least here in this town. I feel so welcome, I made more friends in these few months than in Chicago in half of my life."

Sy's chest puffed out proud when he listened to you, which was really kind of cute.

"And do you enjoy the southern hospitality of someone in particular?" he asked next. You weren't quite sure if you understood that question correctly so you just blinked at him.

"Are you seeing someone?" Sy rephrased with a wink.

"Oh!" You felt stupid. "No, not like that." You hadn't even finished your sentence when Sy's smile widened across his face.

"That's good!"he said, just to correct himself in the next second. "I mean, it's not good that you don't have someone. It's good because I actually wanted to ask you out."

You felt your heart race in your chest. He really wanted to go on a date with you? Yes, that's what he had said.

"I'd love that!" you told him.

Sy didn't say anything in response but grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your palm. Though you felt like you couldn't focus on driving any longer somehow you made it to his house shortly after. 

Sy let go of your hand and you both got out of your car. With wide steps, Sy circled around the car to get to you. 

"Thanks for the ride, sugar!" He leaned down to you and gave you a kiss on your cheek. It was so gentle you almost weren't able to feel it. What a shame!

Sy pulled his mobile out of his back pocket, unlocked it and gave it to you.

"If you give me your number I'm gonna text you later. If you really want to go out with me, it is, of course." The wink he gave you made sure that he was very well aware that you wanted to. So you added your number and gave it back to him. He held the phone up, silently asking for permission to take a photo of you. You gave him a small nod. But instead of taking a picture immediately, Sy leaned forward to kiss you once more on your cheek. This time his soft lips rested longer on your skin. And while he was kissing you, he took a selfie of you two.  

"Sy!" You were too flabbergasted to really enjoy it but the feeling in your stomach told you, you really liked him being so near to you.

Sy looked at his screen grinning and held it up for you. You looked absolutely ridiculous, eyes wide in surprise.

"Oh no, please delete this. I'm looking so stupid!" you begged him, but he just chuckled and shook his head. 

"No, you're pretty as a speckled pup!"

Over the next week Sy and you had texted with each other every day and when you really had a bad day at work, he had even called you and you talked for almost two hours, feeling so much better after. 

When you met with Megan on Friday for lunch you were starting to get nervous because of the upcoming date.

"I have no idea what he's up to. He told me it's a surprise but what the hell am I supposed to wear?" You shoved your salad from one side of the plate to the other, not really eating much at all.

"Girl, calm down. Just wear some tight jeans and a top. And nice matching underwear, of course." Megan giggled as you gave her an annoyed look.

You were under the shower when you heard your mobile ring. Hastily you grabbed a towel and went to answer the phone. It was Sy. 

"Hey, handsome!" You sat down on your bed, ignoring the fact that you were still dripping wet.

"Hey!" The hesitant, almost silent answer made your heart drop. This was the sound of someone knowing they'll disappoint you soon. He changed his mind.

"Sugar, I'm so sorry. I won't be able to go out with you." There it was. You gulped, not able to say something, so Sy continued.

"I got notice that I have to leave next week. I..  There's a lot I have to get done before that. I wasn't expecting to be deployed that soon."

You still just sat there. He was leaving in a few days. You won't be able to see him for months. And he chose to cancel your date. The last chance to be with you.

"Darlin', I'm sorry. I really am." 

"It's okay, Sy. I understand." You really did. But it hurt nevertheless.

You had hoped for some texts coming from him. Some sign that he was thinking of you. 

Then you thought that maybe he wasn't able to send messages at all. But when Fletcher told you that he had gotten text messages from him you knew that this wasn't true. He just didn't want to stay in contact with you. 

Well, it's not like you two were a thing after all. You barely knew each other. 

You tried to move on, tried to forget him. Megan even managed to persuade you to go on a few blind dates with guys she thought would distract you enough. 

But nothing you did was enough to stop thinking about him. Every night you lay in your bed, thinking of the few moments you had shared or wondering what he was going through right now.

After a while you hid your heartache from your friends, even Megan was sure you were over Sy. And so no one thought it would be hard for you to come to the homecoming party your friends organized for him. But it was.

You look up to the stars, blinking the tears away that gather in the corners of your eyes. The night sky in Texas is so beautiful. But it makes you feel even smaller and insignificant. Maybe you should just go home. 

You get up but instead of just leaving, of course, you have to glance over to him again. He leans over to Fletcher, talking and gesturing. Both men share another look and then Sy walks away. He moves into your direction. Fuck!

The whole evening you pondered what you would say to him when he would come over to you. If he would come over to you.

Now your brain just feels empty. You turn around again, looking up to the sky once more. You hear his heavy footsteps approaching. And then you feel his warm hands rub over your arms.

"Damn, you're freezing, darlin'. Why dont'chu get a little closer to the fire?" His hands don't stop moving up and down your arms and he even moves closer to you and you feel the heat of his chest on your back.

"I want to look at the stars. At the fire it's too bright." 

You feel Sy nodding. You two stand there for what feels like an eternity without talking.

"You didn't say hi," he remarks after a while. 

“You didn’t say goodbye!” is your answer and you can’t hide the bitterness in your words. 

Sy inhales deeply. “I didn’t,” is all he says. Then he pulls his Hoodie over his head and gives it to you. “Here, you are shivering.” 

You don’t want to accept it, but he is right. You really are freezing. And you need to talk with Sy, give it a closure, whatever it was that you two had last year.

So you put it on. And you realize immediately that this was a fault. You take in the scent it radiates. The scent that takes you back to the moments where you were lucky enough to be near him. When he leaned down to you at Megan’s wedding, that day on the beach when you jumped into his arms, the day you stumbled into his embrace and he kissed your cheek. 

“I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want you to sit there waiting for me when we didn’t even know if this is something worth waiting for. And to be honest, I wanted to protect myself, too. I was afraid I couldn’t make it through these months if I felt more for you than I already did.”

Sy sits down on the rock, his thighs spread wide. He pulls you down to sit in between them and wraps his arms around you. 

“Didn’t help anyway. I couldn’t stop thinkin’ of you the whole fuckin’ time. Every hour of every day of every week of every month. Was starin’ at the stars so often. Always thought that at least they are the same, shining down on me and you. That made me feel a little bit nearer to you. And I was lookin’ at your photo all the time.” You hear his deep chuckle, although it sounds a little bit different than you know it. It has some sad undertones this time.

Of all the things he told you, you pick the most stupid thing to answer him. “Noooo, not that stupid photo, I’m looking awful in it.”

This time Sy’s chuckle is brighter, the way you know and love it. “Nope, darlin’, already told you. Pretty as a speckled pup!”

You turn your head to look at him. And at the sight of him, looking at you so soft, the fire throwing light and shadow over his face, you know it’s going to happen. You lean into him, you can feel his breath and then finally he closes the last distance and his lips brush over yours. His whiskers tickle at the corner of your mouth but you decide immediately that you love it. 

Sy grabs you at your waist and pulls you sideways onto his lap. With the new angle, he is able to pull you closer and deepen his kiss. His tongue carefully licks over your upper lip and you respond to it by opening your mouth to let him explore it. You feel like the world around you fades away and it is just Sy and you. Both of you put all the love, all the desperation you felt in the last eight months into this kiss and so your hearts are racing when you finally part your lips again, gasping for air. 

Sy stands up, carrying you bridal style without any effort. When he moves you near the fire, you notice that everyone else is gone. Sy sees the confused expression on your face and grins.

“I asked Fletcher if he could make sure to give us a little more privacy.” Sy kneels down on a blanket next to the fire and puts you down. His wide frame leans over you the next moment and his mouth is on yours again. Soon his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw and neck, finally resting on a spot under your ear where his kisses and sucks made your whole body shiver. 

He pulls his head back, looking down onto you with his eyes dark. “Are you still cold?” he asks you. 

“No, I’m feeling as good as never before,” you whisper. Your hand travels to his jaw and you run your fingers through his coarse beard. Sy leans into your touch, closing his eyes.

“I can shave it!” he tells you but you shake your head. “No, I think I like it. Missing your curls though.” you answer him while running your other hand through the soft hair on the back of his head. 

“Yeah, gonna need to grow them out again. You will need something to hold onto.” He winks at you and you can’t hold back a laugh. That’s the Sy you missed so much.

You get back to kiss each other, and soon your hands are traveling over each other's bodies. The heat of the fire and of Sy’s body gets to you and you lean up to get rid of Sy’s hoodie. Sy mirrors you and pulls his shirt over his head. You gasp at the sight of his bare chest. His shoulders are even wider than you remember and you can’t help it, you want to bite into his pecs that heave with every one of his deep breaths.

You straddle him and kiss him passionately. Sy’s hands grab your ass and he pulls you impossibly close to him. You feel him pressing against your core, hard and big, and you moan at the sensation. Sy tugs on your shirt and you help him to get it off of you. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra and Sy grunts in appreciation as his hands cup both of your breasts. Soon he repalces one hand with his mouth and he circles your hard nipple with his tongue. “Damn, baby you are gorgeous!” he tells you and sinks back into the soft flesh of your breasts.

Then he moves, laying you down onto your back and slowly he trails a path of wet kisses down to your belly until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. His eyes move up to your face as his hands go for the button. Instead of an answer you help him open it and pull at your zipper. Sy rolls down your jeans, tugging the tight fabric until you are finally laying in front of him, only in your soaked panties. His beard tickles you as he kisses you all the way up from your ankle to your knee and then further up your thigh and you squirm under him. Soon you feel his warm breath through the lacy fabric of your underwear. 

“Please, Sy!” you beg and he answers you teasingly with a chaste kiss onto your clothed mound. “Sy! Please!” you plead once more and he finally listens. He pulls down your panties and parts your legs with his shoulders. And then his mouth is where you wanted it to be. 

Slowly, way too slowly, he licks with his tongue through your folds up to your clit. A gasp escapes your mouth when he reaches your pearl. Sy keeps playing with it, drawing circles around it, sucking it into his mouth. With his tongue flattened, he laps along your entrance and then he gets back to your clit again. When you already notice the tension in your middle build up, you feel a finger push into you.

Sy curls it to find your most sensitive spot. And when he reaches it, he adds a second finger and pumps them into you. All the while he rolls your clit between his lips. You can hardly breathe over the sensation Sy's tongue and fingers give you. You press your hips up to his mouth when your climax washes over you and you feel your whole body melt under his ministrations. And even after you come down from your high, Sy doesn’t stop moving over your now oversensitive pearl.

You wriggle under his touch. „Sy, come here!“ you tell him and pull him up to you. Droplets of your juices fall from his wet beard onto your chest when he leans over you with a wide grin.

He sinks his head down to you and kisses you frantically, building up the ache in your core again. You start to fumble on his belt. You’re impatient and want to feel him in every way possible. You had waited so long for this to happen, now you can’t wait a minute longer. But Sy takes all his time to drag this out.

Finally, you manage to undo his belt and your fingers work on the buttons of his jeans next.

“Sy!” you moan into his ear. “I want this so much. I want you.” He just growls in response. His mouth is on your neck and his hand travels down between your legs again. You are still not able to free him from his damn pants and you let out a frustrated huff. 

“Will you just already get out of these jeans and fuck me?” you almost cry out. Sy chuckles lightly. 

“Oh, baby, I will. Trust me. Just give me one minute. There’s a condom in my jacket.” He gets up and your gaze follows him as he walks to his truck. You take in how the thin layer of sweat that covers his back glistens in the light of the bonfire. It’s the hottest thing you have ever seen. 

He gets the condom and then, when he turns back to you, you have to correct yourself. THIS is the hottest thing you have ever seen: Sy walks back to the fire, and when he is towering over you, his chest glistening of sweat all the same, he opens his jeans and lets them drop into the dirt. He’s been going commando under them, so he stands there in all his glory. And because it’s Sy, he’s looking at you with his signature cocky smirk and his eyes dark with desire. 

You grab his hand and pull him down to you. Sy drops next to you and the moment he’s on the ground, you take your chance and get on top of him. You kiss him, starting on his neck, then going down over his chest and stomach and then you follow the trail of dark hair to his hard and veiny cock. You pause your movement to lick your lips and then you finally sink your mouth over the swollen head of his cock. Your tongue circles around it and Sy answers with a loud growl. 

You can’t take him fully into your mouth but you do your best to make him feel good with your lips, tongue and hand. And you feel him twitch and grow on your tongue.

“Baby, please, you need to stop or I’m not going to last. It’s been too long.” He pulls back and puts the condom into your hand. You sit up and carefully you open the package and roll the condom over his dick. 

Then you straddle him, one fist around his cock. Slowly, you guide him through your wet folds to your entrance. You stop for a second, your eyes meet, and your heart is going to burst by the sight of him, looking at you hungrily but also so soft. You sink down onto him, inch for inch and you can barely breathe at the sensation of him stretching you out. When you are seated completely, Sy leans up to you and kisses you. You hook your legs around his hips, put your arms around his neck and pull him tight. Your lips meet again as you start to roll your hips in a slow rhythm. 

Your breasts brush over his chest with every movement. You kiss over his jaw and his throat, grind your core on him as you ride him. Sy's head sinks down to your breasts, needily he sucks on your nipples while he rakes his nails over the soft skin of your back. 

After some time where you move on top of him in a slow pace, Sy loses his patience, grabs your sides and starts to thrust up to you. Now your hips are crashing together roughly as you both chase your high. Sy lets out deep moans in the same rhythm as his thrusts. One last time he pushes his hips up to you and then he comes with a rumbling groan. He holds you tight against his chest. You follow him only seconds after, just by feeling and hearing his release you reach your high, too and you ride him slowly until the shockwaves that rush through your body cease.

Sy softens the grip of his arms around you and looks at you with hooded eyes. You climb off of him and you fall onto the blanket next to Sy. Panting, both of you look at each other and just smile like idiots.

“So, can I finally take you on a date, then?” Sy asks and you both laugh.

Sequel: Something like that

[ciahasnolife]

I knoooow, I should post the second part of the loscar fic but... I might've or might not have been working on a lestappen omegaverse fic?

So here's a wip of it

So the problem with being an omega while everyone thinks you're an alpha is that they treat you like an alpha. It's not like Max wanted any special treatment, exactly the opposite of that. That's why he hid his secondary gender from the public who just then assumed he's an alpha. With his board shoulders, his careless reputation towards the media and with his bluntness it was logical. Since the FIA and pretty much everyone in the paddock already knew, he doesn't have to tell the world which he is grateful for.

He would hate being pictured as a fragile, weak person who needs someone to take care of him. He is a lot of things but weak is not one of them. But sometimes - just sometimes - when people boo at him for example on the podium at the Miami GP, he just wants to hide in his nest, curled around his boyfriend, who would then draw circles on his back with his other hand soothingly in his hair.

There are two problems with that. One is that he for obvious reasons can't do that and the other is that he doesn't have a boyfriend. He doesn't want to share with anyone that he's an omega because of the fear of them telling the whole world if something goes wrong between them, his father made sure he developed this fear very soon after he presented as an omega. His father was so angry and ashamed of him because of something he couldn't even change. So now, he doesn't really trust anyone except for the ones who already know, not that he would have the time for dating, he's too busy breaking records.

Besides, he wouldn't want anyone else but a certain man with the most charming style you've ever seen and his hot accent, a dream come true. Of course, with a personality and looks like that, the alpha has omegas after himself 24/7. Max couldn't even stand a chance.

The point is, that when people whistle or boo at him, he just wants to hide away. Under the covers or preferably behind the alpha but of course in those moments he can't do either.

So when he's about to do his interview, which he doesn't want either and if neither the fans are interested, they could all just leave it, but no, the fans have to boo at him and whistle and make him feel bad because neither of the Ferrari drivers could catch him, he couldn't be more grateful for Charles to shush them. And if he's being completely honest, it makes him fall for the monégasque even more.

He shoots a quick smile at the other and does his interview then goes on with his day like he always does on quali days. Team debrief, stay in with GP to find the perfect strategy for tomorrow's race, go back to the hotel, get the scent blockers off and go shower. What he doesn't expect is a message waiting for him as he gets out of the shower from someone who makes his heart flutter.

Hey, just wanted to check on you, if you're okay?

Charles:

I know that the Italian fans can be a bit harsh on everyone who isn't at Ferrari.

I'm sorry they're so mean to you :(

And Max can't believe his eyes. Because one, did Charles really waste even a minute on texting him instead of basking in the love of the Tifosi and two, was that a sad face?

He just shakes his head and replies.

Yeah, everything's alright.

Max:

Thanks for shushing them, means a lot

The last bit gets deleted before he sends it. Not like it doesn't mean a lot, he's just afraid that he's giving away too much and the younger will learn about his embarrassingly huge crush on him.

He doesn't think too much of it though just makes his way over to his suitcase to get a fresh pair of boxers out of it.

But as he goes back to the bed and picks his phone back up with his WhatsApp with the monégasque still open, he sees the three dots pop up and then disappear only to reappear seconds later.

It makes the omega curious because even if they’ve been on good terms, friends even with the other for a while now they don't really talk outside the track on race weekend so the first message was already unexpected just as it was also sweet of the alpha to check on him, Max can't even take a guess on what the other would want from him.

As he was thinking the text finally came in so he checks it with a bit too much enthusiasm. And Max once again can't believe his eyes.

Which hotel you're staying at?

Charles:

Just as he goes to reply, another bubble comes up.

Fuck, no, that sounded weird.

Charles:

I meant if I could come over to keep you company and I could also get away from the fans waiting for my every move under my window.

It is of course okay if you want to be alone I totally understand that too

Just thought we could hang out a for a bit play

With each mesaage his eyes open wider. Surely Charles finally lost his mind. I was only a matter of time anyway with the shitbox he has under him. He, however, doesn't want to be rude so he sends out a message that - hopefully - doesn't give away too much of how excited he is.

Sure, I have my FIFA on me if you're in the mood of losing

Max:

He can only hope that the other gets the joke because Max has been told that he's a dry texter several times. But today, luck decided to be on his side.

Ooh, it's on

Charles:

Send the address, Verstappen

If you dare;)

And with a grin that could blind the Tifosi camping outside the alpha's hotel, Max sends the address.

[emsgwenstan]

Unending, undone.

Larissa Weems x fem reader. (Angst)

Words: 2k?

Warnings: angst, delusions, unrequited love.

Note: I hate this. one of my wips I need to get rid of, I didn’t want to delete the entire thing, I really couldn’t be bothered to edit and make it better. Anyway- hopefully it’s kinda enjoyable, apologies in advance I wrote this like 7 months ago.

———

It was the weekend and as of that, yourself, Larissa, vlad and the elderly library lady from nevermore were chaperoning the students that wanted to go into Jericho. Before the kids got off the bus it was made clear once again that they will all be departing at 3:30pm and if not accounted for find your own way back to the school and expect consequences.

all departed off the bus to do their own things, old mrs Byrnes to the local library, vlad to the sports and recreation shop, Larissa entered the wethervain and you opted to stroll the streets.

After about two hours of walking in the bone chilling autumn air, you decide to cross the street to take refuge in the weathervane, hoping Larissa is willing to have you as company if she’s still in there, you hadn't seen her since she walked into the café. Reaching the door her silver hair caught your attention, Larissa was sat at her usual booth close to the back almost tucked away, your gaze was strictly on her, eyebrows slightly furrowed eyes glued to a spot out side, but the small twitch of her lips made her seem to be deep in thought. after working with Larissa for a long period of time you found yourself observing her closely, admiring her from afar, knowing, understanding what makes her happy or mad, keeping a mask was enough to fool others but to you, she was like an open book.

Entering, you walked up to the counter, ordered and paid. Turning to face her, she still hadn’t moved, her shoulders rigged and back straight, statue looking. You waltz over, placing your phone and purse on the table in hopes it breaks her trans like state with a simple. “Hey.” It doesn’t. You took to squatting down and wrapping you hand gently around her gloved wrist that was nursing a cup of black coffee, Larissa let out a small gasp turning to face who ever it was that startled her, only to look down a bit to find you.

“Oh how rude of me I didn’t realise you were there, apologies.” She said softly with a forced smile. You didn’t respond, merely giving her a look of concern, the longer she peered into your eyes the more she knew what you were trying to say. “How could I be so daft to think she couldn’t see right through me?” She thought.

“Do you want me to sit across you or beside you?” You asked standing, sounding maybe a little to stern, however when it comes to the people you deeply care about only seriousness and attentiveness are needed plus a ton of comfort. Larissa shifted over in the seat to make room for you and took to peering back out into the town.

"two large hot chocolates?" the waiter asked slipping the cups gently onto the table. You whipped your head around to him. "yes! thank you so much." you said feeling a little reprieved having to take your eyes away from Larissa, although her interest was piqued at the words 'hot' and 'chocolate'. "oh um would you mind taking this one please?" you asked him, whilst dragging the coffee from Larissa grasp. "yeah no worries, enjoy ladies." he said before returning behind the counter.

Larissa was giving you the biggest look, at this point. “I wasn’t fini-“. She began. “No.” You simply said cutting her off. “The amount of sips you took from the time of me being here, to the lack of steam, means you have had the same cup for quite some time, so you have most definitely finished dearest. Not to mention it was straight black coffee, very unlike you.” You stated proudly, whilst pushing her a cup and pulling one towards yourself.

Watching her hesitantly take a drink, not wanting you to see her defeat, you smirked in victory. Sitting in silence for a while you noticed her demeanour shift, reverting back to her former melancholy state. You took to laying your hand on her thigh and tilting your head in a concerned way. Larissa was unfazed by the action, however still hyper aware of you touch.

Stroking your thumb over her exposed knee, “come, we only have ten minutes.” She blinked a few times to settle back into the air of reality before downing the remanence of her drink. You scooted out of the booth and offered a hand to Larissa, you could feel the warmth radiating from her soft leather gloves. Once standing, she habitably smooths down her dress, you take ahold of her upper arm and waltz out of the cafe and towards the bus.

Doing a head count of all the students that re-entered the vehicle you usher vlad and help mrs Byrnes, before resting your hand on the small of Larissa’s back to help her get in, not that she couldn’t do it herself of course, but you felt the need to gently coax her out of her mind and try getting her to focus until she was back at the school.

With all the children off and back on campus, you were the last ones off I the bus. “I’ll take you to your room.” You said, reaching for her hand. Instantly though, she dodged your grasp only to looked at you as if you tried to burn her, confused you took a step back thing you overstepped. After a moment of awkward silence you spoke. “I’ll uh.. I’ll just go and leave you to it.” You said turning to walk away, your face bright red from embarrassment.

Although you must have taken only about three steps until you felt a warm ungloved hand and fingers threaded through your own and another wrapped around your elbow. Stopping, you peered into her eyes trying to figure out what she’s trying to say, but instead of asking you resumed walking with her attached to you.

Reaching her quarters, she let herself inside only to turn around and see you didn’t follow her. Popping her head back out the door to see you walking back to your own room. “Y/n?” She questioned. You turned back to gaze at her. “What are you doing? Did… you want to come in?” She said softly. “I just thought that- well… you? I?” You stuttered not really knowing what you thought. Larissa left the doorway making a b-line for you. “Would you like to come in? I assumed you would come with me.” She started, sounding confident but gradually became more timid.

Nodding as a yes you both walked separately into her home. Your eyes widen in awe at her living decor, all pieces, trinkets and art were the embodiment of Larissa. She was amused at your staring, pointing out a couple of artists to the paintings you seamed fixated on. Your amazement wasn’t just about the objects themselves more the fact that Larissa and yourself have very similar tastes, however she can afford to buy the finer things in life.

Everything was gawked at, Larissa took note of how you shared the same interests. “Y/n? Do you happen to like shoes?….designer shoes?” She asked your face dropped. “Yes! I do.” She smiled and told you to follow her. You entered what seemed to be her very own room and walk in closet. It was beautiful and organised, she bent down and pulled out a few shoe boxes. “I have these brought over from London every couple of months and I haven’t gotten to sending them back, there the wrong sizes, I think they may fit you.” She said. “Really!… I mean no.” You said trying hard not to be overzealous.

She pulled out a pair of black heals. Ones you’ve had your eye on for years and there they were in her grasp. “Here try them on.” She pleaded. “I mustn’t.” You said “sit.” She commanded taking a hold of your shoe and pulling it off putting it on herself. “There perfect. You may have all of them.” She said. “No, Larissa I can’t.” You said. “Either you take them or I’ll find a way to put them in your room.” She said. Giving in you thanked her and you understand how much they cost and will take care of each one.

After a while of sitting on the floor she lay down with her eyes fluttering. “How about I put you to bed hmmm?” You asked. Larissa looked at her watch. “It’s only five.” You placed the shoes back in there boxes and stacked them on top of each other. “Yes but your exhausted, if you like I’ll come back later and bring some food?” You wondered taking a hold of her elbows as she held onto the insides of yours. Larissa didn’t answer, she merely smiled and walked out into her room and paced to a beautiful tall chested draws and pulled out a navy satin sleep set.

You stood awkwardly in the closet doorway as you watched her ‘should I go back and rearrange the shoes or?…’ you thought, not knowing if you should just leave to give her privacy or what. Larissa tossed the set on her ridiculously large and lavish bed and turned to you. “Y/n would you mind unzipping my dress, I just have trouble reaching behind.” She asked. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at her request, your strong, stern and hopeful front melting away.

You reached up and grabbed her zip dragging it down the expanse of her back, her bra clasp came into view as well as the freckles that littered her skin that you hadn’t seen before. Your hands lingered a little to long and Larissa slowly turned to face you. “I know, someone like me not being able to reach is quite sporadic isn’t it.” She blushed ducking her head. “Not at all, not everyone is as flexible as others, I know I’m certainly not.” You said with a chuckle.

Larissa smiled and moved her hand to her shoulder to peal the material away, slow enough for it to be your queue to leave if need be. That you did, you turned on your heals and made your way back into the walk-in robe to peer at her other belongings.

“You can come back.” She spoke softly, if it were you, you’d probably yell it for some reason even if it’s unnecessary. “Larissa?” You asked, walking to her bed pulling back the covers for her, she plopped on the bed taking out her earrings and removing the rest of her jewellery. “Mmm?” She hummed in acknowledgment. You busied yourself with pulling out the pins in her hair and for once you weren’t the first one to relies how intimate the whole afternoon has been.

“Do you think you could tell me what’s going on in your mind.” You asked concentrating on her hair, trying hard not to pull or hurt. Larissa let out a sigh as if she was dreading the question. “I’m just… not myself today. I’ve been thinking of the past a little to much lately and things I should have done and what things I could have done differently, unhealthy I know but that’s all.” She said in a low velvety voice. “I see. You know I’m here to listen to anything you have to say, I support you and care very much about your wellbeing, no matter how laughable that sounds.” You said.

Larissa raised her chin and looked up through her lashes at your face. A doting, sweet expression graced your face. “Thank you, darling.” She whispered. “Lay down, I’ll draw the curtains and I’ll go ok.” You pulled the covers up over her body to get warm.

With the curtains drawn and all things done, you made your way back to Larissa’s side of the bed. Her eyes fluttered shut as you dipped beside her, larissa looked peaceful and relaxed, it’s a little foreign being so close to larissa in her own home and in her most vulnerable state. You couldn’t manage to tear your eyes away from her soft lips and gorgeous free hair, until you relised her pyjamas had slightly fallen down her shoulder. More freckles adorned her pale skin, had you been aware of her lingering gaze you wouldn’t had stared for so long with out a word.

“What’s the matter?” She asked. “Oh! Nothing, I… sorry I was just, admiring.” You confessed. Your skin turned red once again, you could have just lied but what the use in not telling her how utterly beautiful she is. “Admiring?” She asked with a little smile. “Yes. Your just so…�� you began. “A curiosity.” She whispered with her eyes turning sad and seemingly hurt. “No not at all, your beautiful, stunning, exquisite even.” You grinned down at her seeing the way her eyes sparkle at your words.

“Oh.” She said clearly not ready for you to say such wonderful things to her. ‘I love you’. You thought. For the longest time you had been alone and so had Larissa, it feels like your saving each other from drowning in loneliness, a life raft for one another. Her expression changed to complete confusion with wide eyes. “What?” You asked. “You-just…. Did you just say I love you.” She asked almost out of breath. ‘No. No fucking way I just did that.’ Without thinking you shot up and ran to the door and left without so much as a peep.

“Wait-no! Please, I, y/n!” Larissa shouted clambering off and out of the bed, she ripped out her dressing gown and slipped on a pair of flats within 30 seconds and sprinted to your quarters through passage ways to avoid potential eyes. Arriving, she knocked on the door relentlessly to no avail, only to find that the door was unlocked. Stepping in the room cautiously she found you curled in bed with multiple layers of bedding covering your shaking body. Larissa took it upon herself to remove her shoes and gown before fighting you to let go of your vice grip on the blankets, you were laying on your stomach with your face pressed into the pillows. Larissa sunk down into the bed slipping beside you re-covering you both with the covers before she turned on her side and wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you flush to her, front to front.

You hid your head in your hands against her breasts wishing your were invisible. “Y/n. I need you to look at me for what I’m about to say.” She asked, earning a whimper of refusal from you. So she did what was necessary, Larissa grasped your hands prying them away from your face to be met with a wet mess of a face, your eyes open and involuntarily you mouth twitches into a small smile just by looking at her, but faded when you remember what just happened revoking your sight and shutting your eyes again. “Look at me love.” She asked, cupping your cheek using the backs of her fingers to wipe away the tears.

You took a deep breath and looked at her again. “Y/n..” she started. “I love you to.” She said running her fingers through your hair. You stared at her and waited for her to continue. “You asked me what I was thinking about today and I told you I wasn’t feeling like myself… but the truth is, I was watching you for a while this morning, admiring. But I relised that you could never want me. You could never possibly feel the same. Then when you walked in I started to think about previous relationships I’ve had and how terrible they turned out.”

You couldn’t believe it, Larissa Weems, your boss and friend, the most elegant and graceful woman you had ever met loves you. “I-I…” you stuttered , but being unable to conjure words the only option was to show her how you feel. You moved your hands to her face and slowly moved up, each others breath’s mingling, noses and lips lightly brushing, you pull back just to look into her eyes silently asking if it were ok. Larissa crashed her lips onto yours, passionate and strong but oh so loving.

Or at least that's what you wished would of happened if she hadn't let you go back to you quarters when you arrived back at the school. if only Larissa had caught up to you when you turned to leave her, if only she threaded her fingers through your own and stopped you. The small imaginary scenarios are what keeps your mind active but heart heavy, you wouldn't be laying in bed sobbing dreaming of such delusional things, but i suppose we cant all get the ones we love in the end right?

______

its been a week since your little awkward incident and both yourself and Larissa have been avoiding each other like the plague, although every night Larissa walks past your quarters to get back to her own, trying to have enough courage to just ask if your ok, but never does, not until she heard struggled breaths and choked sobs emanating from within your room. it was quiet late, very late in fact, almost ten past three in the morning.

she stood outside your door with her back resting on the architrave. "i don't know what I'm supposed to do, i mean i look so stupid crying over a woman i know doesn't want me, why would she? i give her no reason for her to be interested in me, I'm nothing, no one, but is it so wrong to be in love with Larissa?" you asked talking to no one in particular out your window. Larissa's pursed lips pried open in disbelief at your words.

she turned and and without hesitation knocked, wanting- needing to see you, needing your eyes to look at her, needing to be close, not caring who or what you were talking to. after a brief moment you swung open the door with furrowed brows until you saw her, your face dropped at her appearance.

standing there in silence her eyes seemed to tell you something you couldn't understand. Larissa brushed past you and welcomed herself into your room, confused, you closed the door to face her. "I'm afraid I've been quite the asshole." she said. "pardon?" you asked. “I’m sorry y/n, it’s been hard avoiding you and if you would let me… I’d like to apologise and hopefully we can work on this.” She said gesturing between the two of you.

You stood planted to the ground until you took small steps towards her and embraced her in a hug as an acceptance. “I don’t know what you’re going through right now but I only wish to help, please don’t push me away. Even though you don’t feel the same way about me, assuming you just heard, then that’s ok.” You said pulling away from her looking into Larissa’s sad eyes. “I think I can love you, I will learn to, I have to learn how to love again first y/n, but I won’t push you away I’ll try to keep you close I promise.”

At that you lead her out to your balcony and sat down watching the stars soaking in this new kind of relationship, whether it will eventuate into something more then a friendship doesn’t matter because at the end of the day Larissa knows you will always be there, the cards are now resting in her hands, not all expectations are met, not every story ends happily, but for now it’s just the two of you, no one else and you will forever be bonded, now we will never know.

@sabraaabra

[writingquestionsanswered]

How can I avoid plot armor? I love the way my wip is going but it's starting to look like everyhting could be solved easily if a character just told the truth of what's going on. I can't really take that truth away from this character because then it messes up their whole goal and motives. I can't change anything else because it's crucial to the plot, but I don't want to weaken my writing with this plot armor. Help please

Conflict Could Be Solved if Character Told the Truth

This actually isn't "plot armor," so let's start there. :)

"Plot armor" is a term that refers to when a main character is able to survive serious injury or death in a way that is implausible and convenient, particularly when it happens multiple times. In other words, it is as though the character is wearing "armor" that protects them from the dangers of the plot. An example of plot armor would be: a character who is unscathed after a deadly battle with armed enemies, escapes a space station moments before it explodes, survives a horrific fall with only minor injuries, tries to disarm an alien weapon with know knowledge of how it works and succeeds, is able to safely land a crashing alien spaceship despite having no piloting knowledge or experience.

It sounds like what's happening instead is that you haven't come up with plausible reasons for why this character is hiding the truth. How you fix this will depend on who knows what in your story. If the character is simply hiding the truth from other characters, but the reader is able to know about it, it's much easier to deal with because all you need is the plausible reason/s why they're not telling the truth. However, if the truth is also being hidden from the reader, you need to set up those plausible reasons in subtle ways... in ways that don't make it too obvious that there are secrets being kept, but in ways the reader will remember when the truth is revealed--so they can look back and understand why those secrets were kept. In other words, you'll probably want to read up on using subtext in your story. Google "spotlight on subtext Jami gold" because there's a really good guest blog there by one of the ladies who does the Emotion Thesaurus books, which gives you different pointers on how you can build that subtext into your story. In other words, the ways you can subtly hint that secrets are being kept and why.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[queerweewoo]

SEVERAL SENTENCE SUNDAY

tagged by @inell—thanks, lovely! this is from yet another wip i have on the go; this one is about buck stealing an old photo of eddie from eddie's phone, for... nefarious purposes (p0rn. it's for p0rn purposes). however, this part is sfw. my no pressure tags are beneath the cut at the bottom of the excerpt xp

.

Buck knows it's wrong, okay? He does, he knows it.

Then again, he thought he'd known that he was long past Buck 1.0's chaotic, hedonistic ways (S.S.D's as he calls them only in his own head i.e. his Shamelessly Slutty Days), and that he'd grown into a more respectful, level-headed kind of man. A better man.

Buck really, honestly thought he had finally become a Grown Up.

But there's just something so enticing, and so fucking hot about this photo of Eddie—and it has him handbrake-turning and pedal-to-the-metal reeling straight back to Fuck It Town.

Literally.

Because he—he seriously wants to fuck the Eddie in this photo.

The fratboy-looking cap? The way Eddie's pearly whites are sinking into his bitten lip? The almost challenging sneer? God, it's making Buck want to wolf whistle or rev like a motorcycle or sing opera in soprano or hell, some kinda crazy shit. Also, he is sure that the white-hot fire dancing in Eddie's gaze (the one anybody with eyes can see) isn't purely from the reflection of the camera flash, like, there is definitely a juicy story there to tell. And just—the overall effect of... of... of fucking everything; of this particular Eddie that Buck has never seen before. It's all just lighting something wild inside of Buck, me it's a spark that wants to catch on every one of his major organs and blaze through his body like convection flames and shit, the Good Decisions section of his brain has logged off. Gone offline. Shut down.

Error 401

— Unauthorised

Buck knows he is breaking both his own self-preservation rule and his best friend's trust when his thumbs fly across Eddie's phone screen like The Roadrunner, a cartoon explosion that is equal parts shame and excitement going off in his chest as he almost gives himself whiplash checking that Eddie is still busy in the mud room loading the machine with Eddie's, Chris’s and Buck's clothes, before Buck is rapidly getting back to committing his (hopefully) perfect crime.

“We need to buy fabric softener this week, bud,” Eddie shouts through, and Buck is starting to panic.

He's sent the old picture that he accidentally happened upon of this younger, definitely drunk, hot-as-all-fuck Eddie from Eddie's phone to his own phone, and although he can currently still see the curve of Eddie's beautiful bubble butt just peeking out past the door jam—meaning that his best friend is indeed still crouched down in front of the tub—Buck has yet to delete all of the evidence. As he fumbles, be can hear the machine's buttons beeping from being pressed by Eddie (like all of his own buttons with this damn photo) and knows that Eds must be almost done in there. 

Fuuuuck. 

“Er, yeah, okay, on it. I'll put it down on the list in a sec,” he’s calling back, desperately hoping he doesn't sound like the freak he thought he wasn't anymore.

But before he's had a proper chance to check he's scrubbed away every bit of evidence of his misdemeanour, like deleting both the sent picture message and the duplicate photo from the WhatsApp gallery in Eddie's phone, Eddie is done with the laundry and is standing up and striding back into his kitchen, those sinfully tight blue jeans of his—and Eddie's crotch, Christ!—now squarely in Buck's eyeline and very understandably putting him off his clandestine game. 

See! This is not your fault!

Buck's brain is trying to convince him of his innocence, but he knows as soon as he thinks it that it's a weak as fuck defence, and if he were to be found out he would definitely be getting jailed by the Stealing Sexy Photos of Your Best Friend For Your Own Sordid Desires police.

Eddie is then walking past him and stretching his fine self across the kitchen counter to reach out and push the window open a little further, and that perfect ass is right. Fucking. There, in all of its impeccable stonewash glory, right fucking next to Buck's fucking face where Buck is is sitting at the Diaz kitchen table and supposedly looking at old baby photos of Christopher that Sofia sent to Eddie this morning (yes, he knows he is a truly awful person for that one), so when Eddie is easing himself backwards and brushing off both his of pretty, big hands on those spectacular denim-clad globes before turning around to face a Guilty Evan Buckley, Buck feels almost justified about his surreptitiously mad, bad behaviour.

I cannot be held entirely responsible for my actions, your Honour!

.

weewoo taglist, play or nay:

@rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @eddiegettingshot @veronae-buddie

[whatevertheweather]

Well, hello again.

It's been a very busy month, and I have roughly nothing left in my head, but it's Wednesday okay, and that's finally aligning with a day I ended up driving home thinking I want to do a wip post okay. So first, thank you to everyone still commenting on Musical Chairs, and I'm sorry to anyone who's been hoping I can get the last chapter out in a timely manner. I can't, obviously, but as a sad offering in that chapter's stead, I have here An Ode to How Soundly Musical Chairs Is Kicking My Ass.

This is a multimedia presentation. In this essay I will-

I don't have a posting goal anymore. As soon as possible is a moving target. But I do have two deleted scenes, and here's one.

“Stupidity has no bearing on whether or not I hate something,” Baz said. “No? The two’ve always struck me as pretty intertwined,” Niamh said, picking up her drink. And then, like it was a completely separate observation, “I’ve noticed you seem to hate a lot of things.”

I also have 44 pages at the top of my Miscellany document that contain nothing but snippets for musical chairs, and scenes cut from musical chairs, and scenes rewritten for musical chairs, and checklists made for musical chairs, and all caps yelling for musical chairs, and-

Featuring such goodies as:

And:

So in theory. And I hate this because I’D HAVE TO REWRITE AGAIN but in theory.

And:

[HEY MAYBE JUST FULLY FUCKING SWITCH TRAJECTORY AND GO] “[Redacted].” Baz raised an eyebrow. “[Also redacted].” [FUCK BUT ACTUALLY. IT’S WEIRD AT THIS POINT. AFTER HE’S ALREADY PUSHED THIS MUCH. FUCK. YES OKAY MOVE IT UP TO COULD HAVE HAD SOME FUN. SIMON JUST PIVOTS FROM COMMITTING TO THAT/MAKING BAZ MAKE HIM COMMIT TO THAT BY SAYING HE DOES ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT. AND THE SCENE WILL DEFINITELY AND FOR SURE WORK THIS TIME AMEN.]

It's possible these latest two yellings are leading me in the right direction, but I don't know yet, because I made those notes and then dusted off my hands and ran walked away for a month. We'll see. I've at least started thinking about it again. (The trick is apparently pacing small circles around your enclosure while you're on hold with customer support for an hour.)

Here's that other deleted scene, as a treat. It was a treat for me, anyway, because I don't remember writing it.

“Despite our best efforts,” Agatha muttered, and everyone looked at her. She raised her eyebrows. “She started it. I was out for a week because of her.” “You gave Agatha a concussion?” Baz smirked as Simon said, “You’ve had a concussion?” “Yes,” Niamh answered, and Simon added, “That explains it.” Agatha turned from whatever she’d been about to say, replacing it with, “Explains what?” Simon gave a sad little hum and nudged her chin. “Why you don’t even know what it explains.”

By the way, the actual final chapter is 45 pages at present. One (1) page deeper than the burial ground for its failures. Though the burial ground has a lot of gaps between graves. That probably adds a few pages.

Anyhow, I do sincerely hope y'all will be able to read it before another 7 months have passed. I'll do my best. In the meantime, thank you to everyone who's still tagging me in things, and I'm sorry I disappear a lot and don't shower y'all with the love you deserve for it <3

Here's an incomplete mess of tags, because I do need to go do many other less fun things now.

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @cutestkilla @whogaveyoupermission @aristocratic-otter @alexalexinii @iamamythologicalcreature @facewithoutheart @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @run-for-chamo-miles @rimeswithpurple @thewholelemon @forabeatofadrum @monbons

[britcision]

So these past few months have been A Time, but the past few weeks in particular I’ve held off giving y’all any snacks because I am at Lady Gotham and I really want everyone to see her for the first time together

And I’m also at the last damn 1000 words for the chapter it is so close

But the tone is fighting me and I think it’s because I haven’t fully nailed what I want from this conversation and what will need to wait for the next one

So instead of something from the active chapter WIP here is a probably-to-be-deleted (or at least thoroughly reworked) scene from Jason’s first meeting with Lady Gotham 👀

(Cuz Jason’s been having A Goddamn Time these last few chapters and I think he deserves a break from breakdowns and daddy issues)

Happy WIP Wednesday!

————

It was almost a relief when her attention snapped back to Danny, her smile a little cooler, but still fond.

“You did not bring him to see me before,” she remarked blandly, and Danny winced.

“Yeah… if it helps, last time we were here we were kinda distracted?” He offered hopefully.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly, crossing one knee over the other and sending smog billowing around them.

“I’m aware. Clockwork told me he intended to ask for your services,” she added to Jason directly, blatant pride and approval making him wonder about his own doubts.

They came from John fucking Constantine, after all.

And from a decade of strenuous training for a job that at one point had literally kill him. Jason wouldn’t say he regretted his call, but he still wanted to know more. And about that weird shadow he’d seen in the visions she had showed him.

Danny seemed a little more hung up on something else.

“Wait, Clocky came and told you about it?” He asked incredulously.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly.

“The Master of Time may not technically need my permission, but he knows well enough to ask before interfering with what’s mine,” she agreed with a regal incline of her head.

Jason almost laughed at the feeling of Danny’s indignation beside him. He didn’t even have to look to see the pout as he folded his arms. It rather effectively killed any lingering tension.

“Oh, sure, the Ghost King he just drops in and ambushes, but we wouldn’t want to offend a city spirit,” Danny grumbled melodramatically, then looked sharply at Lady Gotham. “No offence, obviously.”

The larger ghost was clearly more amused than offended, blowing another stream of smog in Danny’s direction.

“None taken. You yourself were quick enough to ask my permission before entering my city,” she reminded him with an easy nonchalance.

“Yeah, but I have manners,” Danny grinned back, relaxing and leaning in against Jason’s side like either of them had any gravity pulling them down.

Gotham’s lips quirked as she nodded an agreement and she gestured with one hand at the mostly obscured length of her legs.

“They are appreciated. Do you like them?” She asked with just a hint of smugness that made Jason think there was something… more to the gesture.

Both men obediently followed the gesture, looking down the length of her legs into billowing smog and the occasional flash of her pearls. Jason could feel Danny’s confusion.

“Your, uh… your dress? It’s very nice?” He offered cautiously, his aura a delicate balance of polite-sincere-I’m just a little guy help me out here that almost made Jason snicker… until he realised that he couldn’t feel an answering aura from Lady Gotham.

She was so there, larger than life and overwhelming even sat on his level, but he wasn’t getting the same insights into her feelings he’d gotten from every other ghost he’d met. It kinda reminded him of that first meeting with Frostbite and realising he couldn’t feel the yeti’s aura… only to find it all around him.

He knew better than to go looking this time. He could confirm with Danny once they were away.

Meanwhile the Lady laughed softly, reshuffling long brown legs so the other was on top and recrossing them, smog trailing from where her feet should have been as it cleared for just the briefest moment. And set the dangling pearls shining bright.

“A decent try, my king, but once more?” She hinted, a flash of a smile setting the pearls briefly aglow. They almost bounced with the motion.

Jason knew the story, of course. All the bats had, usually from Alfred or the records of the police commissioner.

Bruce never talked about it. They were never quite so rude as to ask.

Which made it even more bullshit that Bruce constantly brought up Jason’s darkest secrets, his own past.

Squashing the thought, he tried convincing himself it tasted like Pitty. Despite the little grumblings of protest below his ribcage.

But no, he knew what the pearls meant to Bruce, knew from the bat signal eyes what they had to mean. Bruce fucking Wayne, Batman, was so intrinsically a part of Gotham he’d changed the way her spirit looked.

Jason had fucking given his life for the city, and what had it gotten him? A permanent passenger who wanted to kill everyone he cared for, a family that could barely look at him, a half life of always coming in second to Tim fucking Drake… a little brother he had nearly killed because everything Jason had ever wanted had just fallen into Tim’s lap.

He knew better now. He did. He knew it wasn’t true; Tim butted heads with Bruce every other week, got himself a Robin cape by larceny (and hadn’t Jason loved hearing that? Almost better than going for the Batmobile’s tires), embezzled enough from the Bat-Budget to build an entire second Batmobile that he kept below his Nest like a trophy.

(Jason had stolen the tires off that once he found out about it too. Tim had never brought it up or retaliated, but he was too good not to know who did it. They’d been replaced by Bat Budget anyway.)

Point was, Jason knew the Pit lied. That Tallia and Ra’s and all that lot lied. He had been missed, he was loved, his family wanted him home. Gotham was his as much as Bruce’s, and the Alley was his alone.

It just… tugged at something bitter and dark in his chest to look at Lady Gotham, the beating heart of his city, and only see Bruce reflected back. Only the glitz and glamour of the rich, just like in real life.

The thought was barely more than words, half choked words he knew weren’t anything but a ghost fear from the kid who’d been left behind or forgotten more than he’d been cared for, before Lady Gotham responded. Not verbally, but for all that Jason hadn’t felt anything a moment ago, he was suddenly surrounded by her.

WARMTH-GENTLE-LOVED-LOVED-LOVED

It wasn’t that which broke through though; no, that was the sudden soft, watered down scent of Catherine Todd’s favourite perfume, the one they could almost never afford so she would refill the bottles with water once they were about half empty.

It hadn’t covered the stink of cigarettes and worse coming from the very walls of their apartment, he’d only smelled it when she was holding him close. Shielding him from Willis’s rage, tucking him into bed, cuddled up on the couch to wait out the rain.

It brought tears to his eyes, the pressure of the day threatening to spill over and overwhelm him again.

He could feel her signal-eyes on him, dimly hear her bantering with Danny about whatever the other was missing, but none of it registered. Not through the phantom arms wrapped around him, the soft whisper of Gotham’s voice in his head.

Not unloved, my son. Never unloved, never alone.

————

We’ll see if this makes its way back in either this chapter or the next one, Jason is certainly due a couple dozen complete breakdowns just from the backstory, let alone the events of the fic

I’d love to say I think it’ll be soon but tomorrow’s gonna suck and I have no idea what this month is gonna be I couldn’t breathe all through October and it’s touch and go now

Tag List:

@welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith h @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched d @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation n @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291

[cheolsfae]

☾ Enhypen: Future Spouse's as songs

Notes:

I was going through my requests and deleting repeats of ones that are on the wips list, and I accidently deleted the original request! So this one is for you anon!

I'm really exposing my taste in music here. Embarrassing, lmao

*Disclaimer: just for fun!*

Jungwon's - War of Hearts - Ruelle

"Come to me in the night hours, I will wait for you...I know that I'd die without you. I can't help but be wrong in the dark cause I'm overcome with war of hearts"

They could end up having a lot of issues going on in the relationship. They both could feel like they aren't sure where they ultimately want this to go. It could come to a fork in the road at some point. A pros and cons list might be made. Generally, if you have to make a pros and cons list, it's better to end things, but I don't know. We will see what happens.

Jake's - Training Wheels - Melanie Martinez

"Letting go, letting go, telling you things you already. I explode, I explode, asking you where you want us to go"

So because I suspect this is his Twin flame (as suggested in other readings I've done for him), they could end up fighting a whole hell of a lot. They both have a lot of things to work on. More internal work is needed.

Jay's - Love Somebody Else - George Ezra

"Love somebody else cause I'm giving up on myself. And I bought an old Mercedes and drove it down the motorway. And on every inch of that car, babe, I spray-painted your name. I took a lighter from my pocket, set it up in flames... is there anybody out there in the silence? Give me a sign let me know that you're there."

Why are they all so angsty? Lmao, anyway, again another rough patch. Could be a little bit over dramatic, but not completely sure. Someone could be.

Heeseung's - You Were Beautiful - Day6

(Looked up the English Lyrics) "Every time I got out of bed to (Oh, no). Start my days when I would hear you (Oh-oh-oh). And with a tired yawn, you'd tell me that you loved me, I'll be fine. And that's what got me through the day, alright"

So, this tells me he really is going to rely on this person just to get through some days. Sometimes you just need someone. Sometimes just a simple I love you is enough to keep going and I feel like that's the kind of person he needs.

Seonwoo's - Cure - The Rose

"Let the rain fall and wash away. To find a way to heal the world, without a single word, recover us"

They have a very healing energy towards one another. They might end up healing each other's childhood wounds. They might be really positive influences on one another.

Ni-ki's - A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

"Time stands still, beauty in all she is. I will be brave, I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me"

This man is so into who ever his future spouse is! I absolutely love it! He's willing to go to the ends of the earth for this person and its so adorable. He's a little dude who wants a little dude(tte). Wholesome wholesome wholesome. They are both down bad for each other.

Sunghoon's - Who Makes you Feel - Dido

"Who touches and holds you quite like I do? Who makes you feel the way that I make you feel? Who loves you and knows you the way I do?"

His have been a little much! This is the PG version because this song...his person might be a Scorpio or have it in their big 3. Anyway, they feel like they know how this person is. They know each other like the back of their hand.

[aclockmaker]

WIP Wednesday Thursday because if I don’t post something I might die :)

Based on this post

steddie, cw drugs

Find another weed guy, I can’t fuck with you… uhhmm nothing personal I can’t fall in love with another straight guy and you’re Everything I love so if I see you again i’ll never let go of your hand so yeah

Eddie types out the text with one hand, flat in bed, despondent. His other hand is busy laying across his eyes dramatically. He’s squinting out from under it to type. He deletes the message without sending it. Again. He knows he’s going to see Steve again. Aside from everything else, he needs the money. He doesn’t have that many customers. It would be stupid to not go.

Hey man, you free to come by tonight? Steve had texted. Like he was talking to a buddy. Eddie usually sold Steve weed, sometimes shrooms. Sometimes his roommate Robin was there and that made things a little easier. Usually Steve asked and Eddie stayed to smoke and that made things a little worse.

Steve asks today. And Robin isn’t home.

“God, work was—never mind, I don’t even want to bore you with the gory details,” Steve says. He does something in finance, like his dad, and he hates it. Eddie wishes he didn’t know this. “But anyway, I really needed this. Thanks for coming over.”

“You literally pay me,” Eddie reminds him, the last threads of his sanity wearing thin in the face of Steve’s unnecessary niceness, “so.”

“I know, man, but still,” Steve says, pops off his baseball cap and fixes his beautiful hair underneath, tugs it back down. He looks like even more of a jock in the hat and unfortunately it does nothing to kill Eddie’s boner for him. If he’s honest, it’s part of the appeal. Sometimes he literally plays basketball right before calling Eddie, and he answers the door sweaty in low-cut tank tops, thick chest hair on display. “You want a beer?”

Steve drinks terrible beer. Unfortunately Eddie would like to tease him about it and kiss the side of his mouth while introducing him to something decent. “Sure, why not,” Eddie says, because it’s still free beer and also he’s an idiot.

Part of being a dealer is seeing inside people’s lives. Just briefly, though. That’s what you have to remember—you’re the interloper. Eddie delivers all over downtown Indianapolis—does it to put himself through school, slowly. He doesn’t want anybody else like he wants Steve. Has maybe never wanted anybody this much and he’s had his fair share of ill-advised hookups with people he was half in love with who didn’t care about him enough.

It makes it worse (better) that he knows nothing’s ever going to happen with Steve.

Steve hands him a Sam Adams without a trace of embarrassment and Eddie sighs internally, takes a pull.

He gets out the lunch box he deals from out of his bag and puts it on the table. Steve doesn’t like it when he does it right away, like he’s trying to make it fast and get out of there. He’s never said anything, but Eddie can, like, tell. Doesn’t like to make him sad and shit. It seems like his life is kind of—Eddie doesn’t want to say sad, but he never talks about his parents except to say that his dad did such and such new shitty, annoying thing at work, pressured him and made him feel not good enough. He doesn’t say it exactly like that, but Eddie gets the picture. He wants to tell Steve he thinks he’s good enough, and all kinds of other ridiculous shit.

Steve clinks the neck of his beer bottle against Eddie’s and takes a grateful sip. It’s the middle of summer and hot, and even the central air in Steve’s building is struggling to keep up.

“Anything good?” Steve asks, eyeing the bags of drugs Eddie’s pulling out.

“This is decent,” Eddie says, flicking one. “Mostly sativa, but it’s like… friendly. I’ve gotten good feedback.” To be more accurate, one person had texted and asked for the same thing as last time. But still.

“Whatever you say,” Steve says, like always. He’s very easygoing about his drugs. With him it really seems to be more about the journey than the destination.

[nogitzune]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Hopping on this (late as well lmao) but @aurevell left it open for whomever and so I will!

Here's some more Nightfall, that twilight au I mentioned a bit ago. Say hello to Beacon Hill's High.

The next morning is his first day of school and with the start of all those new kids and teachers and no Allison–because apparently her mom and dad have her go to some fancy private school–Stiles ends up taking some of his emergency anxiety medication. Technically he isn’t supposed to also drive after taking one, but what his dad doesn't know won’t hurt him. It’s not as if he hasn’t done it before. News about his arrival must’ve gotten out somehow–small town gossip is a beast, really–because his arrival at the school is watched like a hawk. Every single person in the parking lot seems to catch sight of him at least once, and Stiles can practically feel their piercing stares as they try to look, look, look, underneath his skin and into the whole of him. He tries to turtle into his jacket and away from the many faces facing him, so he’s caught by surprise when someone actually approaches him and says something. “Um, what?” Stiles asks, missing what the person suddenly in front of him said completely. “You’re the Sheriff’s kid, right? Unpronounceable first name Stilinski?” The guy in front of him questions callously. He’s just this side of shorter than Stiles, and his face seems kind if curious. He’s kind of cute, Stiles guesses, but not really his type. “You mind if I get your picture for the yearbook?” He continues without waiting for an answer, lifting the camera hanging from his neck.  “I go by Stiles, and no thanks.” Stiles says even as the guy takes a picture anyway. He’s sure he’s grimacing in it and he really hopes it doesn't end up in the yearbook. “Oops–I’ll delete that later then, sorry.” The guy says sheepishly. “I’m Matt and–obviously I work with the yearbook club. They’ll probably wanna interview you–” Stiles interrupts the guy–Matt–and feels a little bad when he deflates. “No, no, they don’t need to do that. I’m sure you guys get new people all the time.”  “Not really.” “Oh, um, anyway I’ve gotta–get my schedule, figure out my classes–” Stiles starts backing away. “No problem! I’m sure Daniel or Heather will find you later about the interview. See you sometime–” Matt yells as Stiles rushes away, words lost in the crowded hallway. Stiles makes his way to the office after all but running away, face no doubt red from his embarrassment. He doesn’t really need to get a schedule, as his dad had already got it sorted out for him, but he figures that grabbing a map of the school wasn’t a bad idea. Anything to avoid high school paparazzi.

There's a bit not seen here between the last snippet and this one--y'all will have to wait for the whole thing to see it!

[primewritessmut]

7, 11, 17, 18, 19 distracting you despite it being against my best interests

The way this post was for everyone but you. 💀

7. Favorite Character To Write?

This is probably going to sound weird and very niche, but my favorite character to write is Gwen from every star for you. I was re-reading it today (bc it's bot infested and I had to go comment deleting) and I love an unapologetic, mean, awful woman that fucks. For this same reason, I also really enjoy writing Harley Quinn (even though I don't do it very often) and most of my original work has some flavor of unlikeable woman in it.

11. Have Any Sneak Peeks Of A Current WIP?

You are insatiable. And I even told you that story about my awful cat terrorizing the neighborhood in the middle of the night! But, since I wrote 1500 words on my cat!Loki wip yesterday... I'll give you some of that.

Very little of what Loki had learned about the TVA before deciding to come here had prepared him for seeing his own face on a screen. Parts of his own life, fast-forwarded and rewound like just another movie committed to celluloid film. The idea that all the choices he’s ever made are simply steps on a predetermined path. Or that there’s been someone walking those steps with him the entire time. At least a little.

He arches his back and yawns, stretching his legs out as far as he can until one paw lands lightly on Mobius’s back.

“Sorry,” he mumbles in his sleep, scooting further away from Loki’s sprawl across the surprisingly luxurious mattress.

Loki rolls over and stretches again, pressing both front paws harder against Mobius’s spine. The analyst scoots away a second time, giving Loki all the room a feral little cat might need, and falling off the edge of the bed with a heavy thud in the process.

“Ow. Shit.” Mobius rustles around on the floor for a minute, then exhales loudly. “I guess I can just sleep down here?”

Loki slinks up to the head of the bed and burrows into the soft down of both pillows, flopping onto his back and flicking his tail side to side since it’s the closest he can get to laughing.

17. Your Favorite Writing Conditions?

I assume we're talking ideal writing conditions? Not just the wet rag I manage to wring out every day?

My favorite place I've ever written was in a cabin on a cliff overlooking the ocean (spirit box vibes) in a place with shitty wifi and phone service. I've gotten to do this TWICE and it's incredible. I stayed there for three days making sure I always had drinks in multiples of three and bounced around between writing, napping, hiking, and doing other hobbies.

So those are my ideal conditions, I guess. A few days to decompress from life, then a few more days alone in a cabin where the paint has been worn thin by wind and sun and salt water, and I can just write whenever I want and I don't have to give a shit about anyone but me.

My headphones are probably there, too.

18. Favorite Writing Style To Read?

Ugh. I'm a simple lad and I like simple fair. I like books that are irreverent and show an author's sense of humor even if it doesn't seem like the genre for it. I also think my tastes run toward... bubblegum is the best word I can think of for it. I don't want to have to bring a machete into a book with me just to be able to understand a third of the plot.

And there's also a soft spot in my heart for author's that take you by the hand and walk you through the book, showing you the sights as you read and when you get to the end and you're looking at the sunset, they shove you off a cliff. Love a good "fuck you, bye", truly.

19. Last Thing You Read?

The actual last thing I read was the third chapter of spirit box as you know. Which I love every time I get to read it. 🚨 FIC REC ALERT EVERYONE 🚨

The last book I read was I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman which is sort of stuck in my brain like a splinter. It's one of those books where you read it and you're like, "Huh. I guess that's over." and then six days later you're in the shower and it hits you again and you feel like you're going to cry or throw up. It's really bleak and really human, and I think I'll be thinking about it a lot.

I have a couple books that are in the "just started" phase that I think I might DNF so I'm not mentioning them. But I'll probably tell you later so you don't waste your time.

x

[prettyflyshyguy]

Anyway shhhh don't tell anyone but have some WIP writings.

May or may not delete later.

(dean encounters Lisa for the 2nd time)

His shaking hands rattled the keys, the sound clanging in his ears, making him wince. Pressing his eyes closed he felt for the lock and fumbled for a few agonising seconds in the searing light of the hotel corridor before he heard the familiar clack of the latch sliding open. Stumbling inside, he was relieved to find the interior of their room cold and for the most part dark. 

“Dean?”

Sam’s familiar voice called out from the table in the center.  

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Dean groaned as he lurched towards the kitchen, eyes fixed on the floor as it began to shift and spin. Waves of nausea had flowed through him all night, rolling through his body, progressing from his stomach to his chest. Placing a hand on the wall for support, he shuffled through the room, holding his other out to block the light coming from the relocated bedside lamp that was placed on the table where Sam was working.

“... You ok?”

He stiffened as the feeling rippled through him. His stomach convulsed, his head spun.

“I’m good, Sammy.”

He heard his brother start to speak again, but stop. Thank god. He needed a beer or two. Or three. And a nice dark corner, as far away from the table, and the windows, and the noise from the upstairs room, and the opposite corridor room. And the pipes. And the heartbeats.

He could hear two of them as he rested on the wall, breathing heavily as he willed himself to recover from the growing ill sensation in his abdomen. His back was to the table but that didn’t stop him sensing and feeling and hearing. Every. Pump. One heartbeat was significantly faster than the other. Samuel must’ve gotten back early, he noted. He’d had moments of nervous spikes, which made sense. Samuel had so far maintained a cool head throughout the whole ordeal. Sam on the other hand…

Dean grunted as he shuffled in front of the fridge and yanked the door open. The hinges whined and creaked, spiking the throbbing pain that had been building in his head. He groaned as the light sprung on with the intensity of the daytime sun. Squinting at the contents of the fridge, he assessed the rations.

One beer, three cans of soda, two mason jars of cow's blood. One full, the other leftover from his earlier experiment.

Scrunching his face in disappointment, he reached for the beer.

Leaning against the bench, he gently nudged the fridge door closed with his right foot. It creaked shut with a sharp and piercing squeal. He growled at it in response as he twisted the bottle cap open.

“I uh… accidentally… ran into Lisa just now and–”

He paused to take a swig of beer. The cold sensation of the refrigerated drink was refreshing, but the taste was stale, and wrong. He gagged on the mouthful before forcing it down. 

“Augh, what the hell.” 

He brought the bottle up to examine the label. He’d had it before and it’d tasted fine then. Frowning, he turned to look at the table, blinking in a futile attempt to compel his vision to adjust as the lamp drowned out the area around it in a hot, white blanket.

“Hey did you–”

He paused as he glimpsed the figures seated through his strained, hazy sight. Sam was staring at him quietly. He was fiddling with a bottle of the same beer, empty, in front of him. To his dismay, Samuel was not with him. Her face was a mixture of emotions, though he could hardly see through the light. Terrified, worried, confused. She stared at him the same way she stared into his eyes when he was in her room, though she seemed to recoil in her seat as Dean’s eyes widened. His heart sank as the sounds of the water pipes, the street, the tv upstairs all began to fade out, as the backing track of miss-matched bass ticking in his ears became a thunderous roar at the forefront of his mind.

“Uhm, the uh, the eye thing is to be expected.”

Sam’s voice was a whisper, intended only for Lisa, but Dean heard it as clearly as if he was standing a foot away. His mind jumped to the nest. In the gloom, when the light caught their eyes, it reflected, like a deer when the car headlights scanned the countryside.

Or like a wolf.

She was holding a hand up to her mouth now. Sam had begun to slowly rise from his chair.

“Oh god. I– I gotta go.” 

He barely blurted out the words, tossing the bottle of beer into the sink as he veered on the spot and bolted for the bathroom door. Past the table. Past the sound. The unbearable, overpowering sound.

“Dean, wait!”

Slamming the door behind him, he cursed when he remembered there was no locking latch. Pressing his weight into it, he felt the door handle turn gently. He pushed back against it, digging the heels of his boots into the grooves of the tiled floor as he let himself collapse in a slump at its base, breathing in shallow pants. The bathroom was his escape, the walls dampened the sound, he could turn on the tap to create white noise if he needed to. The shower was the only time he felt safe. The drowning sound of the water droplets blocked everything else in the world out.

He could hear it, through the door. Two channels in parallel, overlapping. The beating, beating, beating, beating, beating.

“Dean please don’t jump out the window again!”

-

Creaking the door open just enough to peer out, he sighed in relief when he saw the hotel room was empty again. Sam was standing near the door, the lamp turned off. He turned around and began to walk back towards the table, hitting the corner of one of the beds in the process, making him stumble. Dean would have laughed, if it had been any other day.

It suddenly occurred to Dean that it was dark. It was late, the blinds were down, and all the lights had been turned off. He could see everything as clearly as if it was a normal, overcast day. Sam was clearly struggling in comparison, as he slowly walked holding his arms out to avoid crashing into another obstacle. Once he had made it to the chair, he sat down and looked in the direction of the bathroom, though Dean could see he wasn’t exactly sure where to look.

“You can come out now, Dean. She’s gone.”

He could have told Sam that.

“The hell’d you let her in here for in the first place, Sam!” 

He gingerly took a few steps out of the comfort of the bathroom. The low thrum of Sam’s heartbeat was noticeable, but tolerable. 

“She was owed an explanation, Dean. She called me, practically demanded and honestly, she deserves to know what's going on.”

Sam was staring at him now, with that stupid puppy dog face he always used to get people to listen to him. Typical emotional bullshit. Didn’t work on him, though.

“I mean c’mon Dean how much have you kept her in the dark?”

“I almost bit her the first time, Sam. I came so close and I–”

“I would have stopped you.”

“Could you?”

Sam was silent. Grinding his jaw slightly, he breathed out and looked back towards the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Look, it's not your fault.”

Idiot.

He didn’t blame Sam for anything, genuinely. It was just bad luck and shitty timing. If he wanted to have, he could have pinned her to the floor and his teeth would be an inch deep in her throat before Sam even stepped inside the room again. If I wanted to… 

No. 

If I let myself. 

The realisation repulsed him. His arm ached. His stomach lurched. He couldn’t tell if he was going to be sick or if he needed to eat. Whatever that even meant to him anymore. He didn’t want to dwell on it, and returned to the kitchen. He once again reached for the fridge door, pulling it open despite the creaks and squeals in protest. Once again, forgetting to shield his eyes before the blinding brightness flooded his retinas. 

“Augh, god. Fuck.”

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

Dean glanced over at Sam, then down to his bandaged forearm. The white gauze was just visible underneath the edge of his rolled up sleeve as he reached into the fridge. The light of the bathed it in a sickening glow, the spots of red poking through were nearly impossible to hide.

“Nothing.” he responded curtly, kicking the door closed and shutting off the light.

[jenanigans1207]

Hi, i was wondering if you have any advice for a first time smut writer? Especially when the writer doesn't even have experience kissing?

I've had an idea for a bonus nsfw chapter for my long term GO wip, and over the months, I have created a detailed account of what will happen with dialogue in my head. But I'm worried that only reading NSFW fics will not be enough to help write it well.

I would ask in a discord server, but may end up gifting it to a friend, and they're in all my servers 😅 Getting advice there might ruin the whole "surprise! I've written a sexy fic!" if I do end up gifting it.

Hi!! Oh man, I don’t know how much help I’m going to be, but I’ll sure try!

I think the biggest thing I can say, and I genuinely can’t stress this enough: you’re going to feel awkward as hell the first time you write smut. To this day I still feel super awkward when I write smut, like I need to look over my shoulder in case someone is looking at my computer screen or this happens to be the moment I’m finally proven right that mind-readers exist and one is reading the smut straight from my brain. So if you feel that way when you write it, don’t panic! It’s not a sign that you aren’t meant to be writing it or that you’re doing a bad job writing it!

My second biggest piece of advice is to remember that this is part of a larger fic. And I hope this makes sense when I say this! It’s not just smut that you’re writing, it’s a natural progression of the dynamic that you’ve been building up for all those chapters. By now you have the character voices and personalities in your head— trust those! Lean into it a little, let them take the lead a bit. If you don’t end up liking how something is written, you can always rewrite it! (Though I will always advocate for simply pasting what you’re getting rid of in another doc instead of outright deleting it just to be safe!)

Third: remember that they’re people. Whether it’s an au where they’re human or they’re still celestial beings, the boys are disastrous idiots at the best of times (that’s why we love them). So don’t be afraid to let it be awkward or uncoordinated sometimes. If you feel like one of them doesn’t know what they’re doing, okay! A lot of us don’t!! And depending on the scenario you’ve put them in, maybe one of them hasn’t ever kissed before either, which allows you to lean into it a little and hopefully make it more comfortable! The point is, nothing is ever perfect. It’s messy, it’s full of emotions, and it’s usually clumsy and heartfelt and it’s okay to write it that way!

If you don’t have a deadline or need to post/send to your friend right away, I recommend taking a few days away from it and reading it again. It’s hard to look at anything you write objectively when you’ve been so close to it for so long. Taking a step away and coming back gives you a better chance of seeing the story the way your readers will— and I guarantee you that you’ll think it’s even better than you remember it being. Even if you thought it was the best thing you ever wrote, you’ll love it more when you are able to look at it a little more objectively! If you can’t take the time away, totally fair. Find someone you trust, someone who knows the rest of your fic so they have the whole story, and ask them to read it.

If you get stuck, and you have someone you trust enough, you can do what I do with my writing friends which is playing Questions! You talk a little about where you’re stuck at in the plot and they just ask you any question that comes to mind. Not always huge, plot-relevant questions, but questions about how a character feels, or how an outside character would respond, etc. and in working out the answers to those questions, I think you’ll find the bits of plot that you’re looking for! It’s always been a huge help to me, and it’s tons of fun!

Oh, and lastly— I think it’s absolutely phenomenal that you wrote an outline of everything! I’ve never been great at plotting or outlines so I’m jealous. But remember not to hold yourself too rigidly to the outline. If you forget something or veer off of where you intended to go for a bit but you like the outcome, don’t beat yourself up over it! Like I said before, you can always rewrite something you don’t like.

So I guess my biggest piece of advice is don’t take it too seriously and don’t put too much pressure on yourself. It’s still writing and it’s a natural progression of a story you’ve already spent all this time telling. You know how the story goes, you know how the characters act, you got this!!!

I don’t know if this ended up being helpful at all, but I hope it is! It’s lovely that you’re doing this for your friend and I’m sure they’re going to adore it!!!