#I STARTED THIS LIKE 800 YEARS AGO AND I WAS SO CLOSE TO DONE finally i came back to it LOL

[slut4thebroken]

Hysterical

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Capa x reader

Summary | Capa finally gives in to his urges and is pleasantly surprised with the turn of events.

Warnings | NON CON, smut, coma sex??, knife play? but like non con, super fucked up, I need therapy, idk this fic is kind of a flop.

Words | 800+

Notes | Yeah the first and only Robert Capa fic I posted sucked and honestly I don’t think this is much better😭 idk why I can’t write anything good for him skdhsk

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 7: non-con

For some reason, after the first incident, you went completely hysterical. It got so bad that you had to be sedated until they could figure out what to do and how to help you. Which was the perfect opportunity he needed because after last time, he was a little addicted. 

He waited until everyone was asleep, then quietly walked over to the medical bay. You were laying in one of the observation rooms, sleeping soundly. 

Not wanting to increase his chances of getting caught by staying here for too long, he quickly pulled down your pants and underwear to your ankles, then climbed over you. He pushed his clothes down just enough to free his cock and spit on his hand to rub over the tip before lining up. 

You were even tighter than last time, especially in this position with your legs so close together, but he finally managed to force his way in. Your brows furrowed the tiniest bit, giving away your discomfort even while unconscious, and he let out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him again. He took a moment to catch his breath and try to hold back his orgasm so he could at least fuck you for a little bit first, then he was pushing in the rest of the way. Once he was buried inside you completely, he slowly dragged his hips back to repeat the process. 

Your cunt squeezed him like a vice, practically forcing him out. He was grunting quietly, savoring the feeling of being inside a tight, warm pussy again after going so long without it because he was in space. Honestly, part of him regretted not doing this sooner. He’s always found you attractive and would frequently fantasize about you. If he would’ve known you’d go insane after the first time and gotten yourself put in a medically induced coma— basically giving him free rein to fuck you again as many times as he wants— he would’ve done this years ago. 

He couldn’t help but think about the first time it happened— a little over a week ago now. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen and made his way to your room. The knife was just a precaution because he had an idea of how you’d react, but he wasn’t completely certain. 

You woke up to him on top of you, sucking on your nipple and groping your other breast. The second you started to raise your voice, he presented the knife. “Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, and I won’t have to use this.” You went completely stiff under him, almost in shock as he reached down to free his cock and pull your shorts and panties to the side. He forced himself in with a low grunt, covering your mouth to muffle your wail. 

“Shh… You’re okay. Just take it…” He whispered, voice thick with arousal. You sobbed violently and squeezed your eyes shut as he dragged the blade down your cheek, not yet cutting you, but just showing you that he could if needed. 

You made the prettiest little sounds for him as he rutted into you desperately, already nearing his orgasm after so long without any sex. He took his hand away from your mouth to kiss you, making you whimper and try to turn away, but you went still when he pressed the knife to your neck. 

“You feel so good, baby… So fucking good.” He groaned into the kiss, ignoring the way you continued crying. Even though he wanted nothing more than to feel your tight pussy milk his cock, he knew he had to pull out if he wanted to fuck you again. So he leaned up and fisted his cock rapidly, shooting ropes of hot come onto your stomach. You cried silently, unable to move or speak and he leaned back down over you to kiss you again. 

“You’re not going to tell anyone about this, right?” He asked, pulling back to make eye contact as he dragged the blade down your cheek, reminding you what would happen if you did. You let out a choked sob, but shook your head. “Good girl.” 

His orgasm was quickly approaching as he rutted into you frantically, chasing the pleasure. He desperately wanted to come inside you, but he reminded himself again that if he wanted to keep doing this, he had to pull out. So with a growl of frustration, he leaned up and pulled out, fiercely pumping his cock, coming on your stomach again. He took a moment to catch his breath, then stuffed his cock back in his pants and got up. Before leaving, he grabbed some paper towels to clean your stomach and fixed your clothes, then walked out as if nothing had happened. 

[xythlia]

︶꒦꒷♡ . . . MAMMON 𓂃 SWEET NOTHING . ·˚ ༘

♡⃕ ࣪ WARNINGS | fem!reader ⸝⸝ hurt no comfort ⸝⸝ emotional turmoil ⸝⸝ emotional smut ⸝⸝ creampie ⸝⸝ handjob ⸝⸝ begging ⸝⸝ crying but no dacryphilia ⸝⸝ soft smut all things considered

♡⃕ ࣪ NOTICES | bc of nightbringers premise I'd been dreading seeing them not remember us but starting the game tonight made me realize id have a category ten breakdown if I was mc & it made me finish this mini hurtfest I started a few days ago

♡⃕ ࣪ WORD COUNT | 800+

He stays silent beside you, even as you lace your fingers with his and pull him closer, ignoring the way he can't look you in the face.

"I love you, I've loved you."

He doesn't say anything, and you know it's both because he partially doesn't believe you and out of fear of having forgotten if he loved you. You know you shouldn't be fine with it, should be angry at the entire situation, but you are fine with it because even if he can't fully believe you he isn't outright denying it's existence. If the love had existed, isn't that what matters? Can't it exist again?

He can feel it in the way you squeeze his hand, pulling him back to you with quiet desperation. It's why he hasn't let go of you, either.

"I love you," you say again, this time a whisper. Finally he looks up at you, meeting your eyes for the first time throughout this painful conversation. Everything slows, becoming a sticky syrup you're both sluggishly moving through as your lips meet, as he feels for a sense of rightness; of having done this before.

His lips feel cold, and it makes your heart clench knowing he's searching for familiarity after you've battered him like a rouge wave with the knowledge of lost love. Is it possible to grieve for a lover while they're still breathing life into your kiss?

The emotional instability makes you suddenly reckless, needy as you close the gap between your bodies- urging him to the edge of the bed and frantically sliding your fingers through his hair, caressing his jaw, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones. Recommitting him to memory.

That icy chill is gone from his lips as your tongue slides past them and his hands grip your sides with a tremble, pulling you down on top of him as he lays back against the mattress. You trail sloppy, wanting kisses down his neck as his hands shakily run up and down your sides, as if he's unsure how to touch you but affirming between unsteady breaths that he wants this. Wants you.

As you lean back to straddle his hips, hands splayed against his chest, your heart aches again. He's so beautiful. Maybe it had been cruel, selfish even, to tell him about your past just because you couldn't handle pretending he wasn't the one who held you at night, got you through the turmoil of your first year, and who you whispered love to every morning and every night.

But as you helped him out of his clothes and haphazardly flug your own off your resolve grew to simply fill him back up with the love you'd already given, love him again and again until you're both whole.

As you cradle his cheek he looks away again, something unreadable on his face. You bite your lip, a wobbly half smile on your lips as you silence another admission of love.

"Let me make you feel good?" you murmur.

He nods, wide eyes now bouncing between your face and your chest as your hips move ever so slightly. It makes him gasp, fingers digging into the fat of your ass as your bare cunt grinds against him. You don't want to tease too much, halting your movements before he can get too worked up and reaching down to grasp his cock- thick, heavy and flushed a deep pink with beads of precum gathering at the tip.

You have to remind yourself to go slow, this isn't like all the other times before. It's the first.

He gasps once more as your thumb smears the precum along his tip, letting spit drip from your lips as your hand slowly works up and down his length. It isn't long before his thighs tremble, hips bucking as he fucks into your fist but before any release comes he grabs your wrist in a tight grip.

"Please," he croaks, "need to feel you."

Your body feels like a live wire, taught with built up energy as you adjust your position, part your thighs and line him up with your slick cunt to sink down. You go slow, watching his mouth drop open as his tip pushes past the wet muscles, feeling the way your pussy hugs against every inch as your hips finally connect in a satisfying feeling of fullness.

Leaning down you press sweet kisses to his lips, cheeks, and forehead as your hips move to start leisurely bouncing on his cock. As he whines and gropes every inch of your skin he can reach you trail soft kisses back to his lips, swallowing his moans with every roll of your hips.

From the way his chest is rising and falling beneath your hands more rapidly, and the returning tremble in his thighs you know he's close. It's there, in that moment of losing yourselves in ecstasy as he holds you tight against him and his hips pound up into you roughly, that you selfishly plead. "Say it."

He doesn't answer, making you dig your fingers deeper into his skin as his grip tightens, your earlier hurt crashing against the force of orgasm to create a bomb cyclone inside your head. As your cunt spasms around him and stars cloud your vision, your sobs and hiccups hitching in time with the snap of his hips, Mammon presses a heated kiss to your lips. You can taste everything he can't say.

The taste of salt dances across your tongue as he gives in to your clenching muscles, letting you milk thick, warm spurts of cum from his throbbing cock. The heat seeping across your insides is a small consolation.

As you cry, still connected, against his skin he remains silent. But he holds you, holds you until the sobs fade into rough breaths and those give way to only the occasional whimper from your throat. He holds you until your eyes feel heavy, sore and demanding rest from the outpouring of tears.

It's painful and bittersweet.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

The past and the future

Azriel's week: Day 6

Hosted by: @azrielappreciationweek

Word count: 800+

Azriel's lips were warm and soft as he hungrily explored your mouth. This kiss was nothing like the first gentle one. It wasn't uncertain nor cautious. This one was deep, burning, fuelled by long suppressed lust.

Gradually his previous words reached your brain and settled there. 'Finally' he said. You broke the kiss and gasping for air you gave him a confused look. "What do you mean 'finally'?" you asked looking into his shiny hazel eyes.

He seemed different than before. He beamed, looking much more alive than ever before. You felt something electric, pulsating from him, something that pulled you to him like a magnet.

"I've been waiting for this moment for years. The bond snapped the moment I first time met you. All those years I was praying to Mother you could feel it too," his deep voice was full of pain, eyes full of love begged you to understand. "I already lost hope thinking that it is punishment for everything I've done in my life. That it will never snap for you."

Suddenly needing a space you pushed away from him. "You knew it for years." It wasn't question, you were only making sure you heard him correctly. "Have you ever consider telling me about it?"

Azriel huffed shaking his head. "At least million times. But every time when I saw fear in your eyes as I stepped closer to you, I ran away. I didn't want to completely scare you away."

He had a good point in this. It was all because of the stories you heard about him. When you eventually met him, you feared him even more. But it lasted just for a year or two. Then you understood that in real he wasn't so bad and fear disappeared leaving only feeling of discomfort in his proximity.

Azriel waited for you to think things over, his jaw tight, pleading eyes full of hope. But when you didn't say anything even after ten minutes, he got nervous. "Please, say something. Be angry, yell at me, anything, just don't be this silent."

"I'm not sure what should I say," you admitted. Your feelings were mixing together until you didn't know how you felt anymore. Only emotion you were sure of was what you felt for him. "I must have been hard for you."

"You can't imagine how hard. I swear if I knew that all it needs is only one kiss, I would do it long time ago. Even if you would hate me for that." Azriel looked down on his hands trying to hide them in the sleeves.

Usually he pretended he didn't mind his damaged skin, however you noticed him doing it quite often. Maybe it was just some kind of habit he didn't realise he was doing, but your heart hurt at sight of it.

You reached out and took both of his big hands into your small ones and with thumbs caressed back of them. He watched it holding his breath.

"Who could do something so cruel to you?" you whispered to yourself, but he heard you.

"My stepbrothers," he answered, his voice empty of any emotion. Your head snapped up, eyes went wide and lips parted.

'Why' was the only word you could muster. Azriel shrugged.

"I was just bastard that their father begot. I guess it was fun for them."

Your brows furrowed. "I'm sorry," you whispered watching him closely. However his face didn't reveal any emotion, it was blank as a sheet of paper. It made you worry even more and you cupped his cheek. Azriel finally looked up at you, thinking about something. Then his lips curled into sad smile.

"This isn't how I imagined this moment," he mumbled. You gave him small smile.

"You did, huh. So how did you imagine it?"

He teased his lower lip with teeth, intensively watching you while putting the words together in his mind. "I thought it would be romantic. Like.. we would be infinitely happy, laugh, kiss a lot, snuggle. I would tell you how much I love you and you would tell me you love me more." His cheeks blushed lightly and his smile changed into teasing one.

You giggled. It was really sweet imagination. "It sounds great. Maybe we should start all over again."

"Maybe," his eyes shined brighter. "But it would only delay everything that will come after that."

That got your attention. "And what exactly is coming after this?" you asked curious.

His smile widen as if that was the question he wanted you ask. "We will go to another five, maybe six dates just to get to know each other better before you accept the bond and I ask you to move in together. After living together for a year I will propose to you, we will get married and then we will work hard on a little babe."

You laughed so hard that you burst into tears because obviously he was teasing you and Azriel laughed together with you. "But jokes aside," he said when both of you calmed down and finally caught your breaths. "I'd really love it to be like that. Of course only if you would like it too."

You leaned closer to him looking into those beautiful and warm hazel eyes. "I'd love it too. It sounds like good plan for the start."

Azriel smiled showing those lovely dimples and closed the distance between you. This kiss was sweet and full of love and promises of nice future.

[lovestay-channie]

Traditions- Jeongin Imagine

Pairing: bff!jeongin x gn!reader

Genre: fluffy birthday

Synopsis: it's innie's birthday, and you have a fun way of celebrating!

Word Count: 800+

Warning: n/a

A/N: happy new birthday jeongin!

February 8th

Jeongin’s birthday has arrived, and you have been preparing something for this 23rd. You and Jeongin have been best friends since primary school, and you two have a tradition you like to do with one another. You make each other cursed birthday cakes. This tradition started about 3 years ago when you accidently butchered his cake. He decided to get playful revenge and make you a terrible looking cake for your birthday. Since then, the tradition has stuck.

This year, you decided to make him one that looked nice until you could read the lettering on the cake. As you were smoothing the icing, your doorbell rang. “Come in!” you call out. The door opens and Jeongin walks into your apartment. “There’s the birthday boy!”

“Oh my gosh,” he smiles, taking off his coat to hang up on your coat rack. He pauses to see the cake you were decorating for him.

You catch him staring at his cake with a look of confusion. “Don’t look at it yet! Put something on the TV; I’m almost done!” you say, covering the cake with your arms.

“Okay okay!” he says. “I’m putting on Miraculous Ladybug then.”

“Whatever you want. It’s your birthday!” you exclaim while taking the cake off the island and on the counter so he can’t look at it.

While he was watching his show, you added the letters on top of the cake as well as a few final touches. Just as his episode was ending, you finished the cake. “Alright birthday boy, time for presents and cake!”

Jeongin pauses the TV and stands up, “Should I close my eyes?”

“Of course!” you exclaim and take off your apron.

He closes his eyes and holds out his hands for you to guide him into the kitchen. Once you bring him to the kitchen, you place his hands on the island to let him know where he is. You carefully place the cake back on the island and take out a few birthday candles to light.

“Alright, you may open your eyes!”

Jeongin opens one eye at first, scared to see why the cake looked pretty from a distance. As soon as he read the words on the cake, he busted out laughing.

Peepeepoopoo

A phrase you could not stop saying when you sent him a TikTok one day. It annoys the crap out of him, but he secretly finds it funny when you say it.

“Do you like it?” you question once you stopped laughing.

“I love it!” he wipes the tears from his eyes. “I expect nothing less from you.” He ruffles your hair. You push him to get him to stop messing up your hair.

“Make a wish!” you smile and hug around his waist.

Jeongin puts his hands together and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he blows out the candle. You release your hold from him to clap. “Happy Birthday Innie!”

“Thank you, Y/n.” He slices his own cake to portion how much he wants. Once you both have your slices of cake, you guys sit on the couch together. “I love this tradition we have. It helps make the day feel special.”

You nod in agreement, “I love it, too. It’s a surprise you know you won’t be disappointed in. Oh! I need to grab your present!”

You quickly finish your cake and bolt to your room to grab the wrapped package for your friend. In a hurry, you place the present in Jeongin’s lap and sit next to him again. You were very excited to see his reaction to his present.

“You didn’t put a bomb in here right?” he teases. You roll your eyes, not commenting on his not so funny joke. He takes apart the present to see a small, plain, brown box. “I love boxes! How did you know?!”

“Oh my god Jeongie. If you don’t open your present now, I’m taking it back.”

He says something along those lines every year without fail. He finally opens the box to see a picture of his house. He gives it a puzzling look. He turns it around to see dates written on the back: February 16th-24th.

“What is this? Is this a picture from a few years ago?” he asks.

“Technically yes. You should see what else is in there,” you point at the white paper still in the box.

He puts down the picture next to him and picks up the folded paper. He unfolds the paper, scanning what is printed on it. He eyes widen in realization, and he snaps his head to you. “Are we going home?!”

You nod your head, your eyes filling up with happy tears. “We are going home!”

He sets the paper back in the box and moves it to the side to give you a bone crushing hug, causing you two to lie down on the couch. “Thank you thank you thank you! I haven’t been home in so long,” he whispers.

“I know. Me too,” you say.

You couldn’t wait to visit home with your best friend.

© lovestay-channie (2024) - please do not repost. all rights are reserved.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Moving update

I'm grateful to the folks checking in on me and @crowtoed and thought I'd drop a quick update.

We're almost done putting all non-essentials in storage. The many bins are an investment in case we have to do this again. (I have already started researching shipping containers for an overseas move.) I'm going to buy storage unit insurance this week because I have more valuables stowed away than standard homeowners will cover.

My storage unit is almost the same size as the moving truck, which makes it easy to guage if I have to purge/store anything that won't fit. I'm going to hire the biggest trailer from upack.com when it's time to leave. The prices are amazing - less than $4k to move to Connecticut.

The Florida realtor (a condo expert) is viewing my place tomorrow, and with her advice, we'll start on final repairs/refreshes (this place is 23 years old, about when things like windows and tile get rather iffy). My mother graciously gifted me money to cover the majority of the fixes. This move would be a lot harder without her help.

Mom is also letting us stay short-term in her MiL suite a few towns over, so we can sell my condo asap. That means we don't have to worry about timing the purchase of the new house with closing on the old. Plus, I should have a few paychecks rent-free I can sock away / apply towards mutual aid.

We're hoping the condo sells by June or so. Once that happens, I'll use some of the funds towards old debt to nudge my credit rating ever closer to 800 (it's 778 rn, a multi-year project as I used to be in the 400s). Most of the rest of the money will be earmarked for a generous down payment on the new home.

We're still looking in Connecticut and have a realtor there as well. If it's possible, we can afford to fly up a few times to check out houses. The realtor told us our budget for what we want (1500sq ft or larger) is totally doable. The housing market there is weirdly reasonable.

Work is incredibly kind and has said if I need more than 2 weeks to move, I can take whatever time I need. I am fully remote now and blessed to be part of such a progressive company.

We still have some household and personal things to sell, but it's more out of "I no longer like/need this" than an urgent need for money. But thank you to everyone who has offered cash. It means so much to us to have such a strong safety net. If this happened even 5 years ago, we'd have been up shit creek.

Once we close on the new house, we'll drive up asap to move in. This is when we'll know our route and we'll connect with folks along it who have offered to be pitstops for us and the cats. The moving truck will meet us there in 5-7 business days after we leave Orlando.

My HRT Rx also got renewed for 6 months, and with my current stash + a little rationing, I shouldn't have any interruption with my shots, even if pharmacies start refusing me come July.

We're hoping to be all settled in the new home come October, but are dependant on the housing market. But we're stacking as many chips in our favor as we can.

Again, thank you, thank you to everyone who has reached out. I'll update again when something major changes.

[eddiesblklvr]

dad eddie taking care of his black kids morning routine. like he let's reader sleep in and wakes up his daughter and does her hair, picks out her outfit, and makes breakfast for everyone and reader gets up and sees her little girl all made up. honestly I just want eddie to be the best dad in the world and be able to take care of his kids

MORNING ROUTINE. | EDDIE MUNSON

PAIRING: modern!dad!eddie munson x mom!black!fem!reader

SUMMARY: eddie munson taking care of his black daughter in the morning.

WARNINGS: just hella fluff!

WORD COUNT: 800+

A/N: don’t mind the ending or the mistakes i didn’t proofread

SKYE’S NAV. | EDDIE MUNSON M.LIST | REQUESTS

“hey, baby. you sleep okay?” eddie asks, sitting on the edge on her tiny bed as he rubs her back. with her eyes closed, she nods her head and lets out a raspy hum.

“hey, baby. you sleep okay?” eddie asks, sitting on the edge on her tiny bed as he rubs her back. with her eyes closed, she nods her head and lets out a raspy hum.

“hey, baby. you sleep okay?” eddie asks, sitting on the edge on her tiny bed as he rubs her back. with her eyes closed, she nods her head and lets out a raspy hum.

“okay, let’s get up and get dressed.”

“where’s mama?” the little four year old asks once she finally opens her eyes and takes a look around the room.

“she’s still sleeping, daddy’s gonna do your hair and all that stuff today.”

“okay, daddy,” christina says, scratching her head over her little bonnet while staring blankly at the wall. she lifts her arms and looks up at her dad with the same big, dark eyes as his. eddie smiles as he reaches for his daughter, picking her up out of bed before attacking her little chubby cheeks with kisses.

the toddler squeals, laughing as she attempts to push eddie’s face away, “no, daddy, no!”

eddie helps her pick out her outfit for the day before carrying her to the bathroom. he helps her brush her teeth and wash her face before focusing on her hair.

“alright, what are we doing to your hair today?”

“hm,” christina looks up at the ceiling, tapping her chin signifying that she’s thinking. “i want twist, daddy.”

eddie pulls out all the products he knew he needed to do his daughter’s hair, sitting them on the counter beside the sink. it takes him a little longer to do since he lets her play whatever music she wanted to, smiling widely at her little wiggles and head nods.

she had the same music taste as you, r&b was both your favorites. you even got eddie into it when you first started dating a decade ago.

“all done, lil’ mama. you like it?” eddie asks, closing the cap on the oil container.

“so pretty. thank you, daddy!” christina replies eagerly, turning around to give eddie a hug. eddie lifts his daughter out of the sink and sits her feet on the floor. he hands her the spray bottle and the bottles of different oils for her to put away while he put away the brush, comb, and bows. he washed his hands, dried them, before leading the way for the both of them downstairs to the kitchen.

christina chose to sit in the living room and watch tv while eddie made breakfast. he made pancakes, bacon, and eggs, plated the food and set the table, as well as poured the drinks.

“hi, mama! good morning!” eddie hears tina’s tiny, cheerful voice. he smiles to himself as he walks into the living room and sees you curled up on the couch, eyes closed with tina sitting in front of you, focused on the tv.

eddie kneels over the couch and plants soft, loving kisses on your cheek, temple, forehead, and lips. “good morning, mama,” he whispers, continuing to place kisses all over your face. you hum out in response, your eyes still closed with your hands tucked underneath your head.

“why’d you turn my alarms off?” you ask, feeling eddie fix your bonnet since it was slightly sliding over your forehead to your eyes.

“just wanted you to sleep a little longer, baby. now, i made breakfast, get up.” eddie moves to stand up and walk back into the kitchen. he feels a hand grip his wrist and bring him backwards.

“carry me please?”

“but mama’s a big girl. right daddy?” christina says, frowning as she looks up at her parents. both you and eddie always told her “big girls don’t need to be carried” so of course she’s going to use it now.

“right. tell mama to be a big girl and walk,” eddie replies, laughing as he walks back into the kitchen.

“come on, mama!” christina hollers, wrapping her tiny fingers around your wrist as she attempts to pull you up to your feet. you groan while sitting up. “morning, mama! look at my hair! daddy did it!”

“i know, you’re so pretty.”

from the kitchen, eddie still has a tiny smile on his face at the conversation between you and your little creation.

“did you tell daddy ‘thank you’?” you watch as the four year old puffs her chest out and nod her head with each word.

“yes, i did.” tina then turns around and skips her way into the kitchen, demanding help from eddie to help her into her seat.

you finally make your way into the kitchen, your heart swelling once you see eddie helping your daughter with her food, cutting up a “big” piece of her already cut pancake up so that it would be easier for her to eat it. you were so in love with your little family, glad to have picked the right person to settle down with.

eddiesblklvr © 2022. DO NOT REPOST, MODIFY, PLAGIARIZE OR CLAIM ANY OF MY WORKS. DO NOT SHARE MY WRITING ON ANY EXTERNAL PLATFORM WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

[idy-ll-ique]

Paparazzi.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: TOO META, m*sturbation, mentions of s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me... Y/N Y/L/N writes Marvel fanfictions. One day, Sebastian stumbles upon her account and, unable to help himself, reads all the stuff she has written about him. He didn't mean to fall so hard for her but he does. How can he not? She has shown him parts of himself that he never even knew existed.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so a few weeks ago I read a similar (but dark) fanfic and I really wanted to write a softer version of it... Enjoy!

---

Same old, boring routine.

Y/N hit post and slumped against the headrest of her bed, sighing. She waited; a minute, then two passed and she noticed that someone had liked her post. She smiled to herself as she kept her phone away. Though boring, she wouldn't trade her life for the world. Y/N… well, she was a university student first and foremost but she was also a writer.

Being a big fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, she had started writing fanfictions a few years ago. She posted them on Tumblr, where her blog, though not very well-known, stood out enough for her posts to get around 800-1000 likes per post. She loved it; she loved writing, she loved posting her stories and especially, she loved the feedback.

Sometimes people were rude, but most times, the reviews she got were fantastic. She read each and every one of them, smiling goofily as people freaked out over her fanfictions. It warmed her heart. A smile automatically blooming on her face, Y/N lay down on the bed and decided to go to sleep, it being almost 3 am.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else was up at the same time, tossing and turning in his bed, restless.

Sebastian sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He drank some water and lay down again, closing his eyes but it was like sleep was mad at him. Refused to be anywhere near him. He groaned to himself and picked up his phone from the nightstand, deciding to go through Instagram, hoping he'd finally fall asleep to the glare of the screen.

As he logged into his account, he skipped the activity page and went straight to the explore page. Bored, he continued scrolling until his eyes landed on a specific photo. And the breath escaped his lungs when he clicked on it; the woman in the picture was absolutely gorgeous. He just couldn't resist going to her page, smiling widely when he read her bio.

It gave him her basic information; her name, her age, the university she attended. But what caught his eye was the link below the bio. My Marvel Fanfictions Master List. Marvel fanfictions? She was a writer? Smirking, he clicked on the link and it took him to Tumblr. Of course, he'd heard of the site, but didn't have an account on there. At 3 am, his mind sure wasn't working right.

A post popped up on the screen, the same master list she had mentioned earlier. And his eyes bulged out of their sockets; damn, those are a lot of fanfictions. He went through the whole thing, smirking again when he noticed that she had written the most fanfictions about him. Not Bucky Barnes, no, Sebastian Stan.

He clicked on the first one. The date of posting was way back, in 2019. He started reading; nothing about it felt weird to him; he was intrigued, if anything. And as he continued reading, he couldn't help but imagine her being in the stead of the female protagonist. Her, the writer. The woman whose picture had made him end up reading in the first place.

When he finished the story, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. Wow, she really has a way with words. And he had also noticed how in the author's note, she used a lot of slang but reading the story had made him realize that she had an amazing, extensive vocabulary. He went back to the master list and clicked on the latest post under his name.

Posted: 15 minutes ago.

His breath hitched in his throat when he read the warnings: there was going to be sexual intercourse in this one. For one moment, he hesitated; did he really want to read this? "Oh fuck it," he huffed and scrolled, starting to read. The more he read, the more his shaft twitched in his pants. He wasn't really like that during… but oh damn, he wasn't complaining.

"Oh, Seb…"

His hand slid down and he rubbed himself through his boxers, unable to take his eyes off the text in front of him. His strokes got harder and faster as the sex got steamier. "Ungh, I'm gonna cum—" And he suddenly came in his boxers, groaning. Slumping down on the bed, he quickly finished reading the rest of it, going back to the master list.

He took a screenshot with the account's name in it and then went back to her Instagram account to take another screenshot. Keeping his phone away, he slipped out of his boxers, cleaned himself and pulled the covers on top of him, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep.

---

Y/N was walking across the campus of her university, going to the cafeteria when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Taking it out, she opened Tumblr to read the message someone had sent her just then.

his-username: Hi there! I was binging your account last night, you write really well

your-username: Omg thank you!!!! I really appreciate it, I love getting feedback! 🥺❤

his-username: You're welcome! Especially your latest post, that was really good ;)

your-username: hehe 😈 glad you liked it!

Smiling widely, she kept her phone away and continued walking, not knowing that the person who had texted her was the same man she had written about. Sebastian smiled to himself when he read her text. After getting up in the morning, the first thing he had done was install Tumblr on his phone. Then he made an account for himself.

Figuring out the app was easy; he found out that there was an option to keep your liked posts and the accounts you followed hidden, and selected it immediately. No one needed to know what he did on the app. Then he went back to her account, pressed the follow button and started binge-reading her fanfictions again. Last night had he read only two, and that had left him wanting more.

Funny how much things can change in a night. He liked and reblogged all her posts without a second thought; he even read all her Bucky Barnes posts. She understood his character so well, put him on what he thought was an undeserved pedestal while writing about him. Some of the stories were AUs, which he found out stood for Alternate Universes. Mostly mobster or mafia stuff.

He had the day off, and he spent the entire time cooped up in his apartment, on his bed, reading. The more he read, the more he started fawning over her, over the version of him that she put out to the world. Dominating, suave and just perfect. He loved it. At the end of the day, he decided to text her again, hoping she wouldn't think he was weird or find out the truth.

his-username: do you wanna be friends, maybe? I'm new to the app, don't really have any friends here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That was a lie, he knew Mark Ruffalo had an active Tumblr account. But it's not like he could tell him.

your-username: Yes sure!!!! I was also thinking of making some friends on this app lol

his-username: You don't have any on here? But you've been here for years, haven't you?

your-username: haha yeah, but I don't really reach out to people much. Sometimes people leave their feedbacks on my posts, text me but that's that

his-username: Ohhh

his-username: well, let's start with names. Mine's Sebastian

your-username: Really?????? omg that's so cool lmaooooooo (didn't think you were a boy but 😳👀)

his-username: Not a boy, I'm a man 😤😂

your-username: 🤣 im y/n, btw

his-username: Y/N, that's a nice name

your-username: thank you!!!! So, what do you do?

his-username: nothing really that interesting, I'm in theatre

your-username: theatre is nice! I'm studying at [university] in New York lmao

his-username: Wait you're in New York? So am I!

your-username: ASDFHKSHKGF that's awesome!!! also I noticed that you've been going through my account the whole day 😏 notifications upon notifications keeping my phone busy

his-username: Oopsie?

your-username: 😂😂 I really don't mind, it was great! Despite the amount of likes on my posts, I only have a few loyal followers lmao gaining one more felt nice

your-username: You a big fan of Sebastian Stan? Cuz I noticed that you were only reading his and Bucky's fics 👀

Sebastian's face heated up.

his-username: kinda yeah 🤷🏻‍♂️😁

your-username: Cool cool cool, I'm a big fan of his too!!!! also got a crush on him but whatever 😳

Sebastian smirked at his phone. A crush on him, huh? That… was acceptable. He suddenly felt his cocky side coming out; the one she described in nearly all her fanfictions.

his-username: wouldn't blame ya, I mean, look at him. You have also written the most fics about him and Bucky

your-username: right????? damn that man has raised my standards. Anyway, I gtg now, I have to finish a paper before midnight. ttyl!

his-username: Bye! 👋🏻

He kept his phone away and took in a deep breath. This was the most fun he had had in years, and he was not letting her go so easy. He realized he was quickly falling for her; rather unhealthy, but he couldn't help it. Look at her. She looks like a goddamn angel, writes like one, makes him feel like one, do you really expect him not to fall for her? That's insane.

---

Months passed by like a breeze. Y/N and Sebastian had become very good friends, and he knew his way around words just enough to keep her from finding out his identity while not lying to her. Y/N also appreciated his friendship, because he was the one to whom she could rant about her most favorite man in the world— Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes, she thought about how weird of a coincidence it was that her new friend and the actor shared the same names, but then she used to brush it off; that was a common name, right? They talked for hours on end; Sebastian (her friend, not the actor) was extremely witty, smart and fun to talk to, she had to admit. Sebastian felt the same way.

His feelings had worsened. Y/N entirely owned his heart now. Somedays, he'd just go on Instagram, go to her account— her username memorized by him— and stare at her photos until he grew tired; he'd never get tired of looking at her beautiful face but his stiff body afterwards begged to differ. She was just so Elysian. He longed for the moment when he could meet her in real life.

His personality had also changed majorly, and people had caught on. Especially his Marvel co-stars, who knew him to be introverted, shy and, in Anthony Mackie's words, "boring". They were surprised at his sudden change in attitude; he knew his worth and Y/N had helped tremendously in finding it. Now, all those adjectives that she used in her fanfictions fit him perfectly.

Sebastian was never tempted to read fanfictions about himself from authors other than Y/N. No, he only loved her work. He was sure no one else could write as beautifully as she did, he was her #1 fan. Y/N even sent him funny Marvel memes she found on the app and he used to enjoy them heartily; God, the others have no idea what they're missing out on. Our fans are awesome.

Everything was going well.

Until one day.

Sebastian was getting bored at home, so he decided to go to the nearby library to clear his mind. He had read not one book in the past few months, hung up on Y/N's fanfictions. At this point, he was obsessed with her and he knew it. It was nothing dark, per se, it was— it was similar to how Y/N was attracted to Sebastian. How she was a fan of his work.

Just the same. He was a fan of her work in the same way. Just how she was attracted to him, he was attracted to her. Walking into the library that he visited often, he gave the librarian a smile and ventured further into the dark place. He checked his watch; the library closed at 12 am, it was currently 9:30 pm.

Not many people were around, heck, nobody was around. He thought himself to be all alone until he heard it. A sigh, coming from a few aisles away. He walked in that direction and peeked around the corner, freezing when he saw the other person. Y/N? Her books were strewn all across the table as she sat alone at the booth, rubbing her temples.

"You okay?"

She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. I'm dreaming. This is not real. Now I know for a fact that Sebastian Stan is not standing in front of me, asking me if I'm— "Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I, uh— I'm— h-hi," she stammered and he almost chuckled. "Hi." She gulped visibly and blinked at the table, not meeting his eyes.

"Can I have a seat?" He wants to sit with me?! "Y-Yes, sure, sir," she blurted out and he easily slid into the booth next to her. "Hey, please, call me Sebastian. What's your name?" He gave her a friendly smile, even though all he wanted to do was push her back into the booth and kiss her wildly. His shaft twitched just by thinking about it; Y/N was a thousand times more beautiful in person.

"I'm Y/N, it's very nice to meet you, I'm… I'm a fan," she admitted, playing with the ring she wore on her left thumb. I'm your fan too, sweetheart, the biggest one. "Y/N, nice name. You come here often? I haven't really seen you around." She shook her head. "Oh no no, I moved to this part of the city just a week ago, this is my first time here. The library is cozy," she shrugged, easing out of her tense position.

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, I know, this place is awesome. Got all my favorite books here," he chuckled and she smiled at him. "What's all this?" A groan left her lips. "Ugh, stupid university work. I have to write a book report but I don't even know what to write about." He smiled gently. "Well, I have a few favorite books, would you like some suggestions?"

"Oh, please! Tell me!"

He started listing some of his favorite works and Y/N noted the names down until he said the last name. At that, she froze. That's the name of my latest— She looked up but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, and the last one is by my favorite author." He took a pause. "Y/N Y/L/N." She froze completely, staring at the man with her jaw dropped.

Sebastian grinned. "We finally meet, Y/N, I've been waiting for months." Her mouth opened and closed several times as she recalled every interaction she had had with her online best friend— scratch that— her celebrity crush. All the times she had confessed her love for Sebastian Stan, all the dirty and inappropriate memes that she'd sent him…

Embarrassment flooded her entire body as she exhaled shakily. "It was you," she croaked out, "On Tumblr, the account— I'm so sorry—" Sebastian frowned in confusion when she blinked back sudden tears, a few still rolling down her cheeks as shame replaced embarrassment. "Y/N, please don't cry…" She looked up at him, his figure blurry due to her tears.

"You've read everything, haven't you? I just— I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable—" He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Y/N couldn't hug back, though she appreciated the hug especially since it came from him. "You don't know how much you mean to me, doll," he mumbled into her shoulder, using the nickname she often used in the stories she wrote about him. He grew accustomed to it easily.

"Huh?"

He pulled away to wipe her tears. "It was an accident," he admitted, "But I stumbled onto your Instagram account from my explore page. Then I clicked on your account, saw that you wrote Marvel fanfictions and I just couldn't resist the urge to read what you had written. Blame it on 3 am me, to be honest. You're a great writer, and I was immediately drawn to your works. They're awesome.

"They've helped me so much in the past few months. You see this changed attitude that everyone's been talking about lately? All because of you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for keeping my identity secret, but after reading your works, I knew I had to get closer to you. I made the Tumblr account just for you, just so I could talk to you. I'm sorry for lying, but thank you."

Y/N dumbfoundedly stared at him for a few moments, her heart beat getting steady with each thump. Here was a man she admired, loved more than anyone else in the world, telling her that he harbored the same feelings for her. How crazy was that?! Not trusting her words, she simply pulled him into another hug. Sebastian wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Can I kiss you, doll?"

She slowly pulled away from him and nodded, shyly biting her lip. Grinning at the endearing gesture, Sebastian cupped her face and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss grew hungry in a matter of seconds, and Y/N responded just as eagerly. His hands slid down to her waist and tugged on it, pulling her on his lap. She straddled his thighs as they continued kissing.

"Fuck," he groaned when they finally pulled away from each other, out of breath and panting. "You see what you do to me, doll?" Sebastian spoke huskily as he took her hand, placing it right on top of the tent that was forming in his pants. "Oh," Y/N whimpered when she felt him, the sound going straight to his shaft. "How about I take you home and we recreate some of the scenes from your stories, hm?"

"O-Okay."

"Good girl."

---

A/N: What a meta experience 🤡 Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[jamespotterthefirst]

Can u write a small fic where a female intern is flirting shamelessly with ethan and he is completely unaware of it😂😂(well his mind is actually not on her but on lilac he just pretends to listen😂🤣) and lilac sees this sets intern in her place(they r married at that point) and it is only fair if lilac is also jealous😛

Autograph

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x f!MC  (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 800 Warning: language   

It isn't until the roaring of the blender comes to a complete stop that Ethan realizes someone has been talking to him this whole time. Although, in all honesty, his distraction had nothing to do with the crowded, bustling coffeehouse and everything to do with the picture coming into his phone's inbox. Lilac's beautiful face contorted into the most ridiculous expression, one Ethan always pretends to mock even when it leaves him glowing with contentment. 

“Dr. Ramsey?” a voice says next to him. 

It's a short, blonde intern he remembers from rounds that morning. At least, he thinks it's the same one he is remembering. They all blend together into a swirl of terrified faces at this point. 

The blonde smiles coyly, parting her lips deliberately, her posture straightening. 

Ethan is unmoved, teetering on the edge of impatience. 

“Dr. Ramsey,” she repeats, his name uttered with the cadence of a breathless murmur. It  almost drowns in the clattering background, forcing him to strain to hear her. 

Ethan is already annoyed. 

“Is there something I can do for you, Doctor. Or can it wait until after I'm done enjoying a scrap of peace during my free time?” 

The young intern pouts her lips and, to Ethan's dismay, she doesn't look offended or discouraged. Instead, she produces a hardcover book from her bag, holding it up to Ethan like an of offering to a vengeful god. 

When he peers down at it, he can see it's a brand new copy of his book, complete with plastic wrap and price tag. 

“I was wondering if you could sign my book?” She makes her voice deliberately melodious, no doubt thinking it irresistible. 

“No.”

This does give her pause. 

“What? But—” 

“I don't do autographs.”

The brash intern opens her mouth as though to argue. Ethan waits, almost stunned with disbelief, though his face betrays nothing. Maybe Lilac is right (as always) and he was going soft. No intern who valued their job or their dignity would have dared challenged him years ago. 

Well, except maybe one. 

“Don't take it personally,” a soft voice says from a few feet away, sending every nerve ending in his body into high alert. “The last time he autographed someone's book, the person just gave it away as if it were a Nicholas Sparks novel.”

Ethan readies a stern, disapproving glare but the sight of Lilac, looking fiercely irresistible in an elegant and rather form fitting pant suit, easily inspires a fond smile instead. Lilac, on the other hand, is far from smiling, sending a cool, assessing look at the puzzled intern. 

“It was an overall traumatic experience for him so he doesn't do them anymore.”

Ethan narrows his eyes at her when their gazes finally meet. This brightens her expression with amusement, the hard edge of her features softening considerably as she gives him a charming little smile. 

“I don't under—” the befuddled intern begins. 

The words halt abruptly, however, because at that very moment, Lilac settles into his side, her arm encircling his waist, her body fitting like a puzzle piece against his. Green eyes glance up to meet his from behind those cute spectacles she started wearing a few years back, her cheeks glowing the prettiest shade of pink from the mid October chill. Pulse affluter, he decides he cannot resist another second without kissing her in greeting. 

The intern, whom Ethan had forgotten about, lets out a surprised squeak. 

“Dr. Ramsey, I didn't know you were—” 

“Married?” He doesn't hide the irritation at being interrupted. “Happily so. A fact you could have discovered with a modicum of research before deciding to flirt with one of your attendings.”

The intern clutches the book to her chest, mortified. In the end, she escapes back to Edenbrook, dignity in shreds. 

“You are quite the celebrity, Dr. Ramsey, ” Lilac teases, exaggerating the intern's breathy tone. 

The tiny space around them tightens with customers and Ethan pulls her close in front of him. 

“Are you jealous, Dr. Allende?” 

“Yes,” she returns without hesitation. “I'm big enough to admit I don't enjoy it when my husband gets hit on with my own autograph move.”

Ethan laughs. 

Hands at the dip of her waist, he leans in to whisper, “So are you finally admitting you were hitting on me that day?” 

“In your dreams, Dr. Ramsey. ” 

She is taunting him again, her voice an alluring, breathy murmur. Hearing it from her in that sexy, dark whisper, has his skin humming like an exposed wire. 

“Say it again.”

“Your name?” 

“Yes. The same way you just did.”

She gives him a devilish little smirk, eyes glinting in the gold lighting of the coffee shop. Her voice is a lush whisper, barely audible over the blenders, but Ethan leans in to catch every word. 

“No. I only call you that at work,” she begins casually. Then her voice plunges dangerously. “Or in bed.”

Ethan groans. 

The barista calls out their order, completely breaking the spell. 

“Come on,” she says with a laugh, tugging at his hand. “We only have twenty minutes of lunch left. For now, I'll have to keep you awake and alert with good coffee.”

A/N: Again, a little piece of nothingness. Thank you anon for this. And also, other anons (old and new) I am working on a few of your requests! (Coming up are the Ethan with the kids request, the parent jealousy request, and Naveen with a neighbor request from months ago)

Thank you for reading! 

Perma Tags (All Works/Edits)

@openheart12, @takeharryandgo , @aestheticartsx, @rookie-ramsey , @utterlyinevitable, @doilooklikeiknow, @snesdudes, @paulfwesley, @nikki-2406, @mvalentine, @casey-v, @blossomanarchy, @rookieoh, @lucy-268, @maurine07, @bellcat2010 , @iemcpbchoices , @potionsprefect , @heauxplesslydevoted , @writinghereandthere , @schnitzelbutterfingers , @gryffindordaughterofathena , @lovingramsey , @dr-ramseys-rookie , @udishaman , @forallthatitsworth , @canigetanawwjunk, @thegreentwin , @blainehellyes , @parkerattano , @lady-calypso , @nazarihoe , @rookiemarsswiftie , @queencarb , @fayeswiftie , @trappedinfanfiction , @alina-yol-ramsey , @chasingrobbie , @ashiiknees , @professorkingslay , @whimsicallywayward15 , @mysticalgalaxysstuff , @red-rookie , @bluebellot , @ramseysrookiex , @i-bloody-love-drake-walker , @interobanginyourmom , @mercury84choices​ , @drariellevalentine​ , @caroldxnvxrs​, @gardeningoumet , @enmchoices, Except Bryce x MC: @openheartthot , @casey-v , @binny1985 , @tsrookie, @perriewinklenerdie , @drakewalkerfantasy​ , @choicesfanaf (except Bryce x MC/ Blaine x MC)

Open Heart- Ethan x f!MC Only

@octobereighth,   @helloblueeyedcat , @genevievemd ,  @stygianflood , @ohchoices, @aworldoffandoms, @mysticaurathings , @myusualnerdyself , @ruinedbypixels, @custaroonie, @caseyvalentineramsey, @jooous​, @aarisa-frost,  @choicesaddict5 , @sizzlingcashherohumanoid

Unsorted tags (Assumed Ethan x MC)

*Please message me if you want to be moved or removed <3

@kites-in-our-skies,  @kingliam2019,  @cinnamonspongecake,  @ethxnrxmsey, @missmiimiie, @jens-diamondchoices,  @apphia12, @kalogh, @binny1985, @queenbirbs, @honeyandsunfl0wers, @newcolonies, @lilyvalentine, @rigatonireid, , @lilypills,  @nooruleman,  @lonely-mxxnlight, @shadynaturehilariouscookie @togetherwearerapture,  @rookiemarsswiftie,   @hatescapsicum, @choices-lurker, @kiara-36, @junehiratas, @danijimenezv, @macy-ray85, @adrex04,  @sanchita012, @overwhelminglyaquarius , @scorpiochick8, @skylarklyon, @starrystarrytrouble,  @ethanrcmsey,  @a-crepusculo, @quacksonlover , @ramseyandrys, @whatchique, @varikasnuori, @dimitriwife,  @shanzay44, @fabi-en-ciel, @trebondialanna,  @ashiiknees,   @alookseeblog, @whimsicallywayward15

@emotionalswift2,  @lion-ess24,  @forcverandalways 

[sharkfish]

love ‘em, can’t live without ‘em: early-career writers!

[masterpost of rec lists]

new content creators are the lifeblood of fandom, so here i present stories by folks who have five or less destiel fics published (...so far) as of december 2020!!! 

please give them some love!!! 

under the cut since it got long~ 

the burden of belonging by Newtondale @soft-klaus (8k)

Dean doesn't know where he's going, he just drives.

He meanders. Takes whatever road he wants without worrying about efficiency or speed. He watches the landscape change around him as he heads east, towards the sea. Sometimes he listens to music, and sometimes he doesn’t. Most of the time he just thinks, the way he has always thought best; with an open road ahead and horror close behind.

Cas always comes back to him. Cas has always come back. Whether it takes minutes, or weeks, or months - Cas comes back to him.

But Cas hasn’t come back. How much longer is supposed to wait? Minutes? Months? How long is he supposed to live like this, like there’s nothing else that matters except the space beside him where Cas should be?

So he just drives.

Dean Winchester’s 12-Step Guide to Inebriated Online Retail Therapy for Fallen Angels and Judgemental Brothers With Bad Hair (Suck It, Sammy) by justholdingstill @justholdingstill   (3k) 

Alternatively titled Dean Wayne: The Life & Legend

Dean gets drunk. Dean orders things online. Hilarity ensues.

Hang-Ups by anupalya @anupalya (2k)

A slip of the tongue while hanging up a zoom meeting with Castiel leaves Dean in a panic.

****

Jsksdjdjskal

I'm starting to think you're letting Blueberry walk over your keyboard again.

i'm moving to Thailand

?????

I have to

Dean

I have no choice

... so I take it the meeting went well?

dream root & fumbling through the darkness by visionsofyerface @omnishamblegreg (1.3k)

Dean takes dream root for some fun angsty wanderings into Cas’s head, and then actually goes to the Empty, but Cas doesn't believe it's really him.

How Long? by MinxyOne93 @substitutesalt93 (WIP - 37k)

Dean has been going on reckless hunts by himself. Cas confronts him and all those years of unresolved pining come to a boiling point.

_

"Dean. How long?" The angel said, still quiet but so raw with emotion, eyes still wide with shock.

Dean looked down at the floor and sighed. "Since... always. I knew it for sure in Purgatory. But always." He then added in a near whisper, tears threatening to spill from behind his now closed eyelids, "I'm sorry, Cas."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" Castiel felt dumbfounded. The constant loneliness and longing he had sensed from Dean that seemed to grow worse and worse with the passing of years made so much more sense now.

"Dean," was all Cas could say before releasing his grip on his collar and gently, slowly, deliberately, kissing the corner of his mouth. A shocked gasp left Dean’s mouth of its own accord and he melted into Castiel's tight embrace.

It's The Thought That Counts by oceaxe @oceaxe-ifdawn (3k)

It’s Dean’s birthday and while angels have no birthdays, Castiel has a) been around human cultures for long enough to be aware of the nearly universal customs of celebrating the anniversary of a loved one’s birth and b) has been living with humans for long enough that he’s been included in some of those celebrations. But the art of gift-giving continues to elude his comprehension.

Lucky Winner by natmoose @natmoose (32k)

Dean wins a trip to Paris. In and of itself, that’s an amazing thing, but the problem is: he isn’t in a relationship with Lisa anymore, and the trip requires a romantic partner. The obvious choice is Cas, his roommate and best friend of 3 years, but coming with that are some very very complicated feelings and things Dean absolutely doesn’t want to deal with.

But Dean isn’t selfish and also really wants to give his overworked best friend a well deserved holiday, so the only and best solution is to take Cas to Paris, romantic theme be damned. What Dean doesn’t know is that their whole trip will be documented by a photographer from the company - so to avoid their vacation being cut short, Dean and Cas will have to convincingly play a couple.

Once Upon a Falling Star by GrandestBlood @grumpy-mccat (WIP - 3k) 

Alternate outcome for season 5's Endverse where Castiel never lost his grace but he was tricked to retreat back to heaven with the other angels, leaving Dean behind in the refugee camp.

Prompt for this was: The world has ended 500 years ago. You finally went back to Earth and discovered a voice message. You learn a shocking secret about 500 years ago.

Sending A Message by ivebeenpossessedbysatan @ivebeenpossessedbysatan (WIP - 15k)

Castiel Novak didn't expect to be kidnapped. Sure, he'd seen it happen before, but that was all in movies. Just because his mother had married into money didn't mean that someone was actually going to kidnap him and try to ransom him for money.

Only apparently it did, because here he was, tied to a chair in the corner of the most cliché warehouse he'd ever seen.

Why was this is life?

so leave me // at the roadside by LinkInThePark @saminzat (3k)

”This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone out on his own at all, but he was tired of sitting around in the bunker, where the walls seemed to close in on him and the halls were too empty at the same time. Where everything reminded him of what had happened, of the battles they had fought and the people they had lost.

Of the words left unsaid.”

Dean is taking the Impala on a ride, trying to escape everything that's happened... And, in the process, is finally forced to confront his grief. 15x19 coda.

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, but Words Might Get Me Laid by Mrs King of Hell (Slytherkins) @slytherkins (3k)

When Dean's name calling goes too far, Castiel decides to teach him a lesson in manners.

"Take a Sad Song and Make it Better" by Shishquah_CustardTree @shishquahcustardtree (WIP - 27k) 

After being bought and abused by Alistair for many years, Dean Winchester finally gets another chance at life and love by the means of a car crash and a bullet.

The One (1) Time Dean Winchester Tried Something New by archangelgabe @3dg310rdsupreme (2k)

What fun is a relationship that doesn't start with the gross misunderstanding that your crush is hitting on your kid brother?

The one where they get heaven-married by mercurialkitty @mercurialkitty (1.3k)

First a quick chat with Sam in the Impala, then it's off to find Cas.

A finale fix-it where Dean and Cas get heaven-married

There'll Be Peace When You Are Done by diaryofageekgirl @diaryofageekgirl  (5k) 

Somehow, in the middle of severing vamp necks in the dead of night in a run-down barn in Ohio, Dean had a revelation.

Or: nothing stays dead on Supernatural.

This is heaven by madbrilliant84 @madbrilliant84 (800)

“Come on dude! Don’t tell me you don’t know what your legs look like! I bet you could crush melons with those.”

Cas seemed incredibly amused by this. “And that’s something that turns you on?”

Dean smiled while biting is bottom lip. He slowly nodded. His playful tone dropped to something more heated.

“Uh huh. First thing I noticed when I saw you sitting on that bar stool.”

You're Not Alone by Wordsintothevoid @deancas-stan (15k)

Dean has an imaginary friend. Sure, that's weird as hell but he doesn't care. Cas has been there to support him during every horrible thing in Dean's short miserable life and he is not giving up Cas. Sure, Dean may also sorta kinda be in love with him. Oops. And it hurts but Dean will keep it platonic. But then Cas leaves. And then Dean breaks.

We’ll All Arrive in Heaven Alive by invisibledrugs @reasonsweweresinging (1k)

The Winchesters are finally dying, and for good.

But that's okay, because Dean knows what - and who - is waiting for him.

last but definitely not least, @uncastiel doesn’t have any fics yet but is taking prompts! 

[sweetsunflowerkisses]

the library.

Pairing: Loki (MCU) x Fem!Reader 

Genre: Angst (??)

Warnings: Implied Character Death , Mentions of Loki’s faked death, Descriptions of falling?, Cannon Divergence, Making a bunch of shit up about Asgardian relationships and Asgardians in general? Angst, Bad writing TvT

Summary: In your final moments you reflect on your relationship with Loki and wish that you could be back at the library with him.

Word Count: 1.9k (It’s kinda short TvT)

a/n: I was rewatching Thor and the first avengers movie and this idea popped into my head and I kinda hate myself for writing it :D Also I’m working on Secret Identities Are Hard To Keep, I promise TvT

Falling. You had always wondered what it would feel like going from a height like this. It was almost euphoric, the wind pushing against your back as you fell, carrying your tears up with it. These were your final moments, you knew that, there was no surviving a fall from this height, not even with the strength provided by the asgardian blood that ran through your veins. So you did what most people did in their final moments, reflected on how you got here.

It all started centuries ago, in the golden palace on Asgard, the place where you were raised as a noble, your father being one of the Allfather’s most trusted advisers. Your memory of those years were riddled with the overwhelming feelings of loneliness, your only company being the vast array books in the palace library. You were lonely until the day you met him.

It was a day like any other, your father was tied up in various meetings with the Allfather and other important asgardians and like always you were camped out in the library. Through the years that you had spent here it had become your safe space and in the very back in a small corner was your place of happiness there was a small emerald chaise lounge with just the right amount of light and all of the books you had ever enjoyed stacked up around it. What you didn’t expect was for someone to already be occupying your oh so sacred spot.

He was stretched out on the lounge, his thin form but tall form draping over the edge a book in hand. You knew who he was of course, you were a noble after all, the dark prince, the forgotten prince, the boy that spent his years in his brother's shadow. In all of your 400+ years you don’t think you had ever seen him so peaceful, so you did what you usually did around people, you turned to leave. What you weren’t expecting was to feel the feather light touch of a hand on your wrist.

You looked up your eyes meeting his soft green ones. You wondered how he knew about this corner, about you and your time here, but pushed the thought aside as your gazes locked. There was something there, an unspoken understanding from one outsider to the other. He smiled softly, pulling a book out of seemingly nowhere and handing it to you wordlessly. You smiled in thanks and watched as he left, his green cape swaying behind him. And that was how it started.

You would have expected falling to be something that was over quickly yet it somehow seemed like the longest moment of your life. You knew you were getting closer though, you could see the tops of other buildings now, so as you waited you went back to thinking.

After that fateful meeting your relationship with the raven haired prince slowly started to change, for nearly fifty years the two of you would simply give each other books you thought the other would like, starting off wordlessly and eventually progressing into bigger and bigger conversations until the two of you would spend hours in the library together, animatedly talking about whatever book you were interested in that day, no doubt blowing off countless responsibilities your fathers had begun to place on you now that you were growing older.

It was around a hundred years after your first meeting that your relationship crossed from friendly conversations to stolen kisses and secret meetings. The two of you were around 500 and 600 now, both preparing for your futures. Loki trained to become both a warrior and a king, despite the limited possibility of him ascending to the throne, and you training alongside Her Majesty the Queen and other female nobles, preparing to become the perfect wife and partner for the next generation of Asgardian nobles. Yet you still found time for each other, spending as much time as you could together, only finding comfort in one another.

It was when the two of you hit 900 and 800 that Loki became consumed by his anger. It was in secret of course, as most of his emotions often were, but his emotions were always something you and you alone had the privilege of seeing. By now you and the pale prince were an official couple, Odin and Frigga having blessed the relationship, allowing Loki to court you and eventually allowing the two of you to biome some form of official, not married, but official enough to be allowed to share a bedchamber without getting odd looks.

In the past Loki had always confessed his anger to you, never allowing it to influence his actions, reveling in the catharsis he achieved by ranting to you as you played with his hair, but now, as he watched his arrogant brother become more and more loved by the people, as he watched his brother be promised the throne despite his hotheadedness and obsession with being a warrior, something within him snapped. Now he would yell for hours on end, often trashing your chambers, rather than his usual soft kisses that were full of love, his kisses were messy, needy and full of all the rage he could never show. It was in everything he did every emotion tainted by the anger that masked the true emotion. But you accepted him, every bit of him and so you did what you could. You matched his energy but also reminded him that you were still there, still there to give him new books, still there to play with his hair and still there for him to lean on.

As you fell your thoughts wandered back to the present, you were nearly there, you could hear the screams below, and you could see the chitauri army and the chaos that they brought with them. You could see the faint outline of Iron Man landing on the tower and your thoughts once again returned to Loki and everything that brought you here.

After the exile of Thor and the era of Loki as King you thought maybe everything would stop, the looks and the whispers that everyone would finally stop treating Loki like he was just a liar and a danger, you yearned for and prayed for the return of the Loki you fell in love with. You were distraught when Thor returned, telling you that Loki’s ascension to the throne was all based on lies, that he had been responsible for the frost giants that had gotten in the palace, that he had tried to kill his friends, that he had tried to kill his brother. And that he was now plotting something far worse. Somehow, as much as you didn’t want to, you knew it was true, but despite everything you knew that your feelings wouldn’t change. So you fought Thor, or at least tried, not being able to actually bring yourself to deal any damage to the god, too overwhelmed with the truth of it all, so you ran. You ran back to the place where it all started, back to the library, back to your corner of safety.

You found out he was dead the next day, Thor sought you out to tell you himself, yet somehow there was the nagging feeling in the back of your brain that Thor was wrong, and boy were you right.

It was 2012 when he finally resurfaced, you had spent most of your days hiding from the asgardian population, from the prying eyes of everyone who figured you had something to do with the events of the previous year. You were once again faced with the fact that your feelings remained unchanged for him, that despite the reality of what he was doing, trying to enslave a whole population you would still do anything for him. It was Heimdall who alerted you of his return, but it was the Queen who convinced you to go to him, to try and bring back the love that you had spent nearly 600 of your years devoted to. So you did.

You landed on the rooftop of Stark Tower, admiring the pretty pattern the bifrost has burned into the gravel. It wasn’t long before Loki found you, after all the Bifrost was kinda hard to miss. It was emotional for you, seeing the man you loved after spending so long thinking he might be dead. You approached him slowly, he rushed to you in return, overjoyed at the sight of you, telling you of his grand plan, inviting you to join him, to be his queen, to rule over Midgard with him. It was tempting and for a moment, just a single moment you considered it. But you refused, nearly begging him to stop the madness, to return to you, attempting to reassure him that no matter what you would still be there, that you would still love him despite the things he’d done in the past few years. You told him how that while you didn’t quite understand everything that you could listen and love him, that you would give him everything the world never did. Yet, it was when you looked up into his eyes that you realised that something was truly wrong, that your prince might truly be gone, rather than the normal green that usually stared down at you a piercing blue met your gaze.

You backed up slowly, this was the man you loved yes but there was something else in him too, something that was evil and corrupting, something you were sure would infect you too if you joined him. And it was backing up that had been your mistake, the platform on top of Stark Tower was by no means small but you had simply landed too close to the edge, and as you stepped back you felt nothing and you began to fall.

Loki lunged, moving faster than he ever had, just barely grasping your left hand in time. And you watched as his eyes flickered in between his green and the unnatural blue and that's when you realised, he was scared. But you were slipping and his grip simply wasn’t enough. You smiled softly, knowing what was going to happen next, tears beginning to stream down your face, and with your last words you simply whispered “I love you.”.

You fell, leaving Loki only clutching air, but then he felt something else as his fist closed around the air where your hand had just been. He knew what it was almost immediately and looked down to find the gold band with a single emerald in it sat in his hand. The ring that had adorned your ring finger for the past three years, the proof that despite it all you loved him. And you smiled.

You knew it was the end now, the sound of cars and people louder than before, and you wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t been in the library that day. With your very last moments you imagined yourself on the emerald chaise, surrounded by books with Loki on your lap, playing with his hair as he read to you and you smiled for the last time

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ I'M GONNA LOSE HER ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Request: podria ser (si nadie te lo ha pedido o si no te parece bien) de la nueva prompt list, el numero 22 con angel?💖

Prompt: Person B looks at Person A and gently cups their face to examine it. Person A is a little confused and asks what Person B is doing. 'Hold on, there's something on your face,' Person B responds and then kisses Person A. 'It was me.' Person A becomes red and flustered.

BY @aquamento

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.2k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist.

You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

You have known the crew since you started to work for them two years ago, assisting them as mechanic in the scrapping. Your father was friends with Marcus, and he knew that you were through some shit you have never talked about. Not even with Angel, who is supposed to be your best friend. You couldn't help but fall in love with him at first sight, having to live with it, seeing him flirting with every woman who breathes close to him. Not giving you a single chance.

Coming into the clubhouse, cleaning the black oil from your hands with a cloth, you walk towards the kitchen to grab a mug for some coffee, when your shift is already done. The environment is tense and heavy, looking for a second at the guys sitting at the round table, smiling at you with a kind of gesture that makes you feel scared. Giving them your back, you scream for a second with your heart racing, finding Angel in front of you.

“Sweet… Jesus Christ, you're gonna ki—”.

“Hold on”. He says so focused, raising his hands slowly to you.

“What?”

“There… There's something on your face”.

Frowning for a second, before you can't say anything, he has pressed your lips with his placing his fingers on your cheeks. Your pulse speeds up with your eyes too opened. Your mind is blank. There are no thoughts in it. You can't even return the kiss, pulling himself away with feigned innocence.

“Nah, it was me”.

Feeling your cheeks burning, not knowing because of the embarrassment or because of the rage, you stare at him confused. And when you finally think that he has the same feelings for you, Angel opens his mouth again to destroy you in the worst way.

“Hey, react! It was… one of those Tik Toks pranks”.

Your brain decides that utter a nervous laugh it's enough to answer, before turning around in silence and running away from there trying to look normal. But you're not. You are not okay, feeling the desire to cry burning inside your chest. Going downstairs to the emptied office of the scrapping, you close the door before getting locked into the bathroom. When your back is resting against the white tiles, you drag it down until sitting. With your legs stretched on the floor, you break in tears, covering your face with both hands to contain the noise in them.

You have tried to talk with him about your feelings thousand times, but you haven't enough courage to do it. And if you have ever had a chance, he has trample it to share some laughs with his friends. Even Ezekiel was laughing about your face. It wasn't funny. It was humiliating. At least, you thought he was your friend, but maybe you were wrong. Pulling your hair by a side, from your right ear and over your head, you curl your knees to rest your face on them; cleaning the tears springing up from your eyes, closing them after that.

The next time you open your eyelids is because you feel a gentle touch over your shoulder, softly shaking you. Somewhat sleepy, you raise your hand with a brief pain concentrated on your nap, knowing that you have been sleeping for more than two hours. Bishop seems worried, while the rest of the crew is standing at the door.

“We have been looking for you”. He says, helping you to get up ashamed.

“Ah, I just… I think I just was… tired”.

“Yes, or maybe you were hiding from Angel, querida”. El Presidente replies with some sarcasm in his voice, turning to the aforesaid.

“I'm sorry”. He mumbles then, with his head bowed to the floor.

“Talk with him”. Bishop asks you in a whisper, before leaving you alone.

The crew disappears from the office, closing the main door behind their backs, while Angel tries to find the brave enough to look at you. Whatever he has to say, you don't want to hear it. Passing him away, you pick up your things from the desk to keep them inside your bag, before tying your hair in a tail. Hanging your stuff by a shoulder, you grab the keys of your bike and the helmet, about to leave the scrapping too.

“It wasn't a joke”.

Angel's hoarse and trembling voice stops your steps. Turning at him, you cross both arms over your chest, waiting for an explanation of why he broke your heart to have some laughs.

“I told them I didn' want to do'et”.

“Then, why the fuck you did it?”

“The… plan was… using the prank to have an excuse to kiss you”.

Frowning, you take a step forward. He finally raises his eyes towards you, heavily snorting.

“I like y— I'm in love with you. They said that if you didn't respond back, I could… say it was a prank. But… But it wasn't”.

As he continues talking, you can see his chest swelling a little, looking like he at last is admitting his feelings and that he doesn't want to hide them from you anymore.

“I saw that gesture of rage on your face, that scared the shit outta me. You didn' say a word, just staring at me about to… punch me or somethen'”. Placing both hands tangled on his abdomen, Angel just shrugs his shoulders. “I'm realle' sorry. I didn' mean to hurt you, or make you feel… bad. And it's okay if you don' feel the same, I don' want'o lose you… as my friend”.

His confession has you shocked, again, like some hours ago when everything happened. You don't know what to say or, at least, you don't know where to start. But Angel is looking at you with the same beaten puppy eyes than when he argues with Felipe or EZ. Almost shaking because of the nerves.

“Please, don' put me apart. Not you”.

That beg breaks your heart into pieces a little more, placing your bag over the desk, to take the enough steps to reach his position. Cupping his face into your hands, before he can say anything else, you kiss him. Now, he is the confused one, not able to believe that it's really happening. His fingers get secured on the back of your head, and around your waist by an arm, to push you closer to him. Gently stroking the beard on his jaw, you peck his lips twice, almost touching his nose with yours. A shy but conspiratorial smile appears on your face, hearing him chuckling when he realizes that you have been acting like stupids for not talking to each other about your feelings.

“I'm realle' sorry, baby”.

“Yeah, you better, Reyes… My neck hurts like hell…”

“I'm a good masseur, you alreade' know'et”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @that-chick212

[uchukiyoo]

Making Me Jealous Pt.5 (Final Part)

Prompt: Your boyfriend breaks up with you but he can’t seem to let go of you, as he sees you getting closer to another boy.

Pairing : Taeyong X Reader

Genre : Angst ? I guess

Word count : 800-ish ?

parts : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“I do, I love you, I’ve always loved you and I can’t do anything about it. I tried to stop, I tried to hate you, to convince myself that you were over our relationship and that it was pointless to continue thinking about you, but I just can’t help it.”

He took a deep breath and wiped his tears with the palm of his hands.

“You don’t have to say anything Y/N…I-I’m just going to leave now…” He finally said after calming down.

You wanted to say something you really wanted to, but your brain was blank.

Your head was telling you to tell him to leave and never come back, that it was too easy to just cry and apologize for what he’d done after being so mean to you, that you didn’t love him anymore but you heart was telling you to run in his arms and kiss him.

After a few seconds, he stood up, ready to put his shoes on but you took his hand and led him to your small bedroom.

You could see the confusion in his eyes but you simply opened the drawer of your bedside table and took out an envelope with Taeyong’s name on it.

“I wrote this a few weeks ago…when I was feeling very bad.” You said, handing him the letter

“Oh…you wrote it for me or…?” He asked, sitting down on your bed.

“Yes…I- well just read it, if you want of course…and for your information, the photo of us is right here.” You took the photo out of the drawer. “I’ve cried so much looking at it, I used to stare at it for hours every night, it made me sad but I love this photo, as you said it’s special and I would never throw it away…”

“Can I read it now ?”

“I’ll go in the living room…to give you some space” you said

Taeyong opened the envelope and started to read, quietly.

I don’t know why I’m writing this, maybe I need this to move on. I don’t even know if you will read it one day but anyways…I just need to talk.

The past two years have been crazy. I can confidently say that those were the best years of my life. I’ve loved every minute I spent with you, even when we fought. I still remember the day we met, you helped my move some furniture into this apartment and then we talked, for what? 2 hours maybe more? I remember thinking “this guy might be my soulmate” and for two years I thought I was right.

You’ve honestly made my life better and even if it’s over now I want to thank you for that. Thanks for always inspiring me, helping me, being patient with me…

After you told me it was over, I tried to hate you, I thought I wouldn’t love you anymore, that I could forget you, but I was just lying to myself.

I’ll always love you TY and I hope we could keep good memories of each other…

Thank you again, for everything.

I wish you the best.

Y/N

Taeyong read the letter, re-read it and read it again. He wanted to be sure to get all the words.

Once again, his eyes filled up with tears, he was feeling a mix of joy and sadness.

I ruined everything… he muttered to himself

You gave him a few seconds and went to the bedroom door. He was lying on your bed, the letter on his chest and his eyes closed.

“I ruined everything, all we had…we were good together? Right? We were happy…why did I do that? I’m so fucking dumb…”

You walked to the bed and laid next to him.

“yeah…can’t deny that…” You said, crossing your legs

“You know when I told you I never loved you…when we were at the cinema…”

“yeah you told me you only had good sex with me…yup I remember veeery clearly…”

“Yeah…sorry about that, I was just being a moron…I was so mad and jealous. I love you, I mean we had pretty good sex too you know I can’t deny that it was…reaaally good and-

“Okay Taeyong I got it. You really don’t need to talk about this now” you cut him off, as your cheeks got redder.

“Yeah sorry... erm... anyways…I love you and I hope you could forgive me. I was a huge asshole I know but…”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it a little. You had missed this feeling so much.

“You were…but you’re also an amazing person, talented, caring, sweet…and I want you by my side.”

You turned to face him and he did the same.

“I could never hate you Taeyong…”

“Great because I really really want to kiss you right now…I missed you so much”

He slowly got closer to you and gently kissed your lips. It felt like nothing had happened. You were ready to forget it all and start a new journey with the love of your life.

Annnd here is the final part of this little fanfic ! I hope you enjoyed it ! I definitely will write some new ones (i love angsty fanfics haha).

I started something new that i'm quite proud of i can't wait to post it !

Have a nice day !

stay safe ♥

-Sun ☼

(english isn’t my first language, excuse me if there are mistakes :/)

Tag list ~ (don’t hesitate to tell me if you want to be added !)

@aquaalanah

@justineasian

@dreamlesswonder86

@jenyongcas

@xofanfics

[teendollsquad]

*gasps* Is it true? Could it be? Is one of the Dusty’s I bought ~5 years ago finally getting a new body?!

Yes! But it’s not done yet lmao. I’m terrible at keeping a secret and wanted to share! More pics and details below the cut:

So. Dusty! I started admiring her years ago, and eventually happened upon a lot for a good price. She’s generally pretty cheap, I think that’s true because she’s remembered mostly as an oddity *and* her hard plastic body with rubber-y legs tend to melt together over time. Not a pretty sight! But I find her charming, and she’s an important part of doll history.

First things first: I got my torso ready. Dusty’s rubbery legs were removed, and the portion that her legs attached to was trimmed away with a craft knife. It was easy because the hard plastic was soft from the yucky legs.

I then used brute force (not smart!) to crack her torso open. I have two Dusty dolls: an original issue, which has a mechanism for her to “swing” her bat or tennis racket. The other is a mail-in doll with longer hair and no internal arm swinging parts. Her complexion is also different from Dusty Prime, in that it’s a slightly peachier tan than her original body which is tan-brown. So I cracked the peach-tan body apart. Her torso is stamped (not a raised “stamp,” but like an ink stamp) S 800. No idea what it means but fun fact!

These pictures illustrate how I modified the crotch and chest areas of the body, and ended where it is in the 1st picture. I trimmed a lot of the area underneath the chichis (trying not to get found by the bots!) away for a better look and range of motion. The midsection of the Obitsu male body is very thick, and was much too long. So I ended up cutting most of the middle away, and using epoxy to glue the top half (which holds the arm connector pieces) and the bottom half (holds hip/legs) together. They’ll most likely never come apart again but that’s great actually! The openings that hold the pins of the arms have also been trimmed down since this picture was taken, so her arms sit more close to her body than before.

I’ll do another post about dying her limbs and attaching everything, but I wanted to share my progress so far! 🤗

[myhockeyworld87]

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 12

Word Count: 3,765

POV: Reader

Warning: NSFW, Sweet smut (is that a thing), Language, Oral, Sex

Notes: Big shoutout to the 4 new people that followed me to put me over 800 follwers and actually got me to post this early. Never imagined that this is where I’d be almost a year ago when I started this thing. I had this Crosby piece in my head even back then, and it’s been so amazing watching it come to life.So glad you guys enjoy it. So here’s the smut that has been building between these two since the beginning. Let me know what you guys think! Happy Reading!

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

Part of you still couldn’t believe you let Sid kiss you right there as you were leaving Mario’s house. You knew some of his teammates saw you, but honestly after the whole night; you just didn’t care. Well, you did, since you really enjoyed your job, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t go back to your old one. They’d already asked you back a couple times, but you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

You still weren’t sure how a couple nights with Sid had led everyone, including him, to believe that the two of you were now dating. Were you guys that obvious? Of course, you knew Flower and Vero knew that something was going on between the two of you. Which lead you to believe that Tanger and Catherine also had an idea, but Mario? It just seemed unreal since the two of you hadn’t really defined anything until that night.

All these thoughts ran through your brain, as the two of you made your way back to Sid’s house. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Sid asked as you strolled hands linked together.

“I don’t know, everything…nothing…the whole entire night. Does that make any sense?”

He stopped so that he could look you in the eye when he answered. “Kind of. I mean tonight was kind of big a step.”

“Ya think.”

He kissed your forehead, before continuing. “Look (Y/N), I know this is all kind of moving fast, but it’s not like I haven’t been thinking about it…or rather you.” You understood that since he’d kind of been on your mind constantly as of late. “I was stupid last year, after Flower’s party. I thought you’d be this huge distraction to me and set me off my course for everything that I want to accomplish.” A dry laugh escaped his mouth. “It was really the opposite, now that I look back on it. Once I realized, that I could have both, I’ve thought of nothing but you…well, and hockey. It’s like we were made for each other, ya know?” Funny, you actually thought the same thing that first night that you’d really got to know him. Sure, you liked Sidney Crosby hockey player extraordinaire, but Sid the person…well that was someone that you could grow to love. “I think some people, the ones that really know me, realized this long before I did.” You knew he probably meant Mario, and Flower, among others. “But now that I know, I just don’t want to waste any time with all the bullshit stuff.” You cocked your head wondering what he exactly meant by that. “Well, maybe that’s not the right word, because I still want to take you out to fancy dinners and show you off. I just want you to be part of my world right now. Like I don’t want to have to wait, because I don’t think we need to.” You kind of understood what he was saying. It was as if you two had skipped the getting to know you part of dating, because well, you essentially already knew each other. You knew how he took his coffee, and what history books he had and hadn’t read. How even though he told the media oatmeal cookies were a good choice, he never called them his favorites, because secretly chocolate chip were. You also knew how he had to have a certain brand of peanut butter for his sandwiches. He was truly right; you two kind of had been dating all along.

He went to say more, but you stopped him. “You’re right. We don’t need official dinners or any of the other things. I know you Sid, and I think you know me. I like where we’re at right now, so let’s just keep moving forward.”

“So does that mean you’re going to tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll go.” You tugged on his hand to continue on to his place.

“And you’ll ride in my car in the parade then?” You hadn’t really given much thought to that. That would be a huge step. His parents would be there and all of Pittsburgh would be watching.

“Um…let’s just see how tomorrow goes.”

“Deal,” He answered, and put in the code to let the two of you into his drive. “So, can I talk you into coming in for a drink? Or maybe…”

“I think we’ve both had enough to drink.” It wasn’t like either of you were drunk by any means but you knew that neither of you needed another glass. “Why don’t you just ask me what you really want?” After last night, you kind of assumed sleeping over was going to be a thing with him.

“Ok. How about you stay the night with me, again?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You teased him before he pulled you close to him.

“Well if I knew you were waiting for an invitation; I would’ve asked the moment you pulled in the drive.” He spun you around, arms still circled around your waist, and made his way to the door. “So, no alcohol, but do you want something else instead?”

“Just water.” He grabbed two and then led you upstairs to his room. You remembered being up there the night of the Eastern Conference final win, but you hadn’t been adventurous enough to figure out which room was his. You’d simply made your way into what you assumed was the guest bathroom. This time though you took every little detail in. His room was off to the left, done in mostly shades of gray. It had a masculine aura to it. Quiet and understated, there were very few tokens of his hockey career in this room unlike some others in his house. There was a comfy chair by the window, with one of the history books you’d given him sitting on the side table next to it. You could picture him reading there as the rain gently hit the glass. He ducked into a huge walk-in closet, with built-in drawers and shelves, that any person would envy.

“I’m assuming you didn’t bring anything to sleep in.” You shook your head no and he pulled you out another one of his t-shirts just like he had a few weeks ago, then took your hand and headed into the ensuite. A massive jetted tub that could hold the both of you, captured your attention.  Gray marble showcased the entire room, which had a double vanity sink and a shower with so many gadgets in it; you weren’t sure you’d know how to turn the water on. There were even two toilet rooms, one for him and one for her, which made you wonder what he was thinking when he’d remodeled the home or was this something in its original design. All in all, the entire master suite took your breath away, kind of like the man who owned it.

You set your bag on the edge of the tub. “Do you care if I lay these out to dry? Since someone threw me in the pool.”

“Of course, I don’t care, and in my defense, you had a bathing suit on already.”

It was true, but he still could’ve sounded a bit remorseful. “My dress is probably ruined though.” You knew it wasn’t but you enjoyed teasing him about it, as you laid the garment out on the tub.

He wrapped his arms around you and peered over your shoulder to look at it. “Hmm seems fine, though I’ll gladly buy you ten to replace it if I can throw you in the pool again.”

“Sid,” you chided.

“What? I enjoyed looking at it clinging to your body.” Your eyes grew wide, and you barely had time to comprehend his words as he spun you around and kissed you hard, turning you into jelly, before releasing you. “So, do you need a toothbrush or anything?”

“What, if I open one of these drawers, am I going to find your secret stash you keep here for all the women that sleepover?”

You were totally teasing him, but he frowned none the less. “You know it’s not like that (Y/N).”

“I know. I was just kidding you. Now, if you have a purple one, I’ll totally take that.” He smiled then grabbed one out of the multi-pack he had in the drawer. The two of you stood at the dual sink brushing your teeth like a couple who had lived together for the last six months. It was kind of surreal. Once you were finished you changed into the shirt he’d offered in the small toilet room. By the time you came out to the bedroom, he’d stripped down to his boxers and was taking pillows off the bed. “You know I forgot to ask you which side you wanted last night.”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m holding you.” It was corny and sweet, and it made you blush. The king-size bed seemed even larger than the one you two had shared last night, as you crawled in under the covers; Sid joining you. He shut the light off, then pulled you near. You were both laying on your sides facing each other, his arm draped across your waist, idly drawing small circles on your lower back. The smile plastered on his face was a mirror image of your own. Neither of you said a word, for a full minute, before you reached over and cupped his jaw, bringing your mouth to his. Your tongues mingled, lightly sucking and tasting each other. You let your hands roam down his chiseled chest feeling the muscles bunch under your touch. Your fingertips just lightly grazing over his skin.

His hand at your back pulled you closer so that there was barely any space between the two of you. You felt him reach for the hem of your shirt, and gently raise it so his fingers could caress your bare skin. Everywhere he touched set you on fire and you felt your legs move restlessly so that one was draped over the top of him. Sid’s hand glided up your sides and along the underside of your breast, making you whimper softly into his mouth. You longed to feel his touch there, and he didn’t disappoint as his thumb gently slid back and forth over your nipple.

You had to break the kiss for a second to suck in a breath of air, for he had you panting with need. But Sid just continued to kiss you; down your jaw, over to your ear, then sucking at the hollow of your neck, while his hand fondled your breast. It wasn’t enough though; you wanted more. Your hips flexed into him and you could feel the hard length of him against your body. He gently rocked into and you groaned from the pleasure. The two of you like teens dry humping each other afraid of being caught by their parents.

He slowed then, coming back up to sweetly kiss your mouth, as his hand dropped away for your breast. “No, Sid,” you whined. “Don’t stop.”

He pulled back to look at you, to make sure that this was what you wanted. “Are you sure?”

“God, yes,” You breathed out, then added. “I want you so bad.”

“Oh god, (Y/N), I want you too.” His mouth was on yours again with renewed passion, only breaking the kiss long enough to strip you out of his borrowed t-shirt. He rolled you onto your back, lifting up to stare reverently down at your body. “You’re so beautiful.” He said the words like a prayer, one full of worship and meaning, and then his mouth was on yours in the same manner. Kissing down your collarbone, to take one of your peaked nipples into his mouth. Your back arched into him and cried out with pleasure, your body responding to his every touch. He moved to your other breast giving it the same lavish attention, as your hands sifted through his freshly shortened locks to hold him to you. Involuntarily, your hips lifted up into him seeking something only he could give. One of his hands forced them back down. “Easy baby.” He whispered, then loving kissed your lips.

His hand at your hip skated down between your legs where he cupped your mound. You were slightly embarrassed as you knew that he could feel the wetness seeping through your panties there. All mortification was lost when the heel of his hand ground into your pussy. It was the exact friction you were looking for and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. His fingers danced along the folds of your lace-covered mound, teasing and making you squirm. When his index finger slipped under the edge of your panties, you about jumped off the bed, but his strong body pinned you down. A whimper came out of your mouth, as that same digit slowly dragged up your slit to circle your clit a few times.

He released your lips, both of you breathing heavily, as his finger still tortured your throbbing pussy. Sid’s mouth started its unhurried descent down your body. The covers of the bed falling to the bottom as he went, leaving your body exposed. His finger slid out, as his mouth hovered above the top of your panties. He breathed in your scent, before hooking his fingers around the strings and pulling them down. You lifted your hips up to help him, and in no time, he was tossing them to the floor. His hand glided up from your ankles, over your calves and onto your thighs, where he pushed your legs a little further apart. Lowering his head, he peppered your inner thighs with kisses, and you could feel yourself growing even wetter if that was even possible. The anticipation was killing you. You willed yourself to relax under his gaze, as you looked down at Sid, who was poised at your most intimate juncture. A small smile graced his lips before his tongue flicked out, licking his way between your folds. Just that small movement had you crying out. “Oh god,” you felt his grin grow wider against you, before sucking on your clit, tweaking it with his tongue. Your legs trembled slightly, and you fisted the sheets in your grasp, needing something to hold on to. He slid one of his long fingers inside you and had you moaning out loud. The digit moved in and out working you into a feverish frenzy, as his mouth worried your little nub with his lips and tongue. Everyone knew Sid excelled on the ice, but apparently, he was also an award winner in the bedroom.

You could feel the orgasm bubbling up inside your body, and as he slid a second finger into you; you were close to falling off the edge. Your hips bucked forward into his mouth, and he used a strong arm to keep you pinned to the bed once more. “Please…” you pleaded, as you chased the high that was just hovering out of your reach. He hooked his fingers then, making the come-hither motion; the action tickling that spot that would bring you the pleasure you sought. It started then, from deep within you; the small tremble of your legs, the way you panted out for air, and then it crested. A climax so strong, you found yourself screaming out his name, as wave after wave of pleasure wracked your body. Sid slowed his assault on pussy as the last tremors of your orgasm subsided.

Once your body had finally calmed, his fingers slid out of you as he lifted his head, that signature smirk on his face. He took the back of his hand, wiping away your juices that were left on him, before sliding up the length of your body. His mouth found yours and you could taste your essence still on him. It was heady and intoxicating and brought your body back to life. You skated your hands down his abdomen, to the waistband of his boxers, where you snuck your hand inside to feel his hard erection. He hissed out his pleasure as you took his length in your hand, just stroking him up and down. The garment impeded what you really wanted to do, so you pushed them down and he kicked them off. You continued to pump him, before breaking your kiss to nudge the wall that was his chest, so that you could take him into your mouth. Sid wasn’t having any of it though and he captured your gaze before taking your hand and removing it from his member. “Not tonight baby.” He kissed your lips again, before clarifying. “I won’t be able to last, and I want to be inside you.” You nodded your understanding, and he rolled off you to search the nightstand for a condom.

He ripped open the small pouch with his teeth. “Let me,” you asked taking the thin piece of latex in your hand. You stroked him a few times, biting your lip to keep from taking him inside your mouth. The condom rolled down his shaft and you tugged the tip leaving a small amount of space for him to fill with his seed. He drew your body down on top of him then, your chest pressed against his as your tongues mated together, mimicking what your bodies would soon do. He grabbed your ass and rolled you onto your back again; your legs wrapping around him as he did. Taking his cock in hand, he positioned himself at your entrance, lightly running it between your folds to coat it with your wetness, then nudging ever so slowly the tip inside. His left hand reached up and entwined with your right, as he carefully entered you inch by inch. When he bottomed out, you released a moan of delight at the feel of him within you.

“God you feel so good, baby.” He hissed out before capturing his lips with his. Only then did he start to move, interlacing his other hand with yours as he pumped in and out of you. It was a dance as old as time, and the two of you moved to a rhythm that had your body burning to a feverish crescendo. He sped up his pace, a sheen of sweat building on his brow, and while it may have been your first time with him; you knew that he was close to cumming. Breaking the kiss, he groaned with an effort to stave off his climax, determined to bring you with him. You shifted slightly, changing the angle, and then you were there, the orgasm peaking with each thrust of his cock.

“Sid,” you called out, his name like a benediction as you quivered underneath his body. A few grunts and sloppy thrust and he was there with you, moaning your name in his own ecstasy. With one last push, he slumped down on your body, sated and relaxed. When he went to roll off you, you held him close, just cherishing this moment for a minute longer. You knew the two of you had chemistry, it was there from the moment almost a year ago, but this; this was just on another level.

“I’m gonna crush you.” He whispered, a light chuckle to his voice as you finally let him roll you both onto your sides. As he did, his cock still stayed deep inside your body, though you could feel him going flaccid. He cupped your cheek and kissed you tenderly, his lips soft, gentle, and loving on yours. It was one that spoke to you on some other level, but you didn’t examine it too closely. “That was…” You held your breath waiting for him to finish even though you want to say that it was everything. It was magical, and wonderful, and almost like being in a dream. “Perfect,” he breathed out and you had to agree. It was the one word that encompassed all those things.

“Yeah, it was.” You echoed back. He slipped out of your body then and made a move to leave the bed. You didn’t realize you whimpered until he looked back at you.

“You ok?”

Of course, you were; you just missed the feel of him inside, on top of you and all around you. “Yeah,” you whispered before he leaned down and placed yet another kiss on your lips.

“I’ll be right back.” It hadn’t occurred to you that he was leaving to dispose of the condom until he slid it off. He made his way to the ensuite, where you could hear the water running. You slid out of the bed and padded your way across the floor to find him. He was splashing water on his face. As he padded himself off, he caught you staring at him, so you went and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Looks like I should be the one asking if you’re ok?” You dropped a kiss to his shoulder blade as the two of you stared at each other in the mirror.

“Better than ok.” He answered, then turned in your arms, his hands going to your waist and lifting you, to set you up on the vanity. He took the cloth he’d just wiped his face with, wet it, and spread your legs before wiping the remains of what had just happened between the two of you. Part of you cursed the loss, but the gesture was so sweet, it had your smiling in the end. Once he was done, he tossed the rag back into the sink, then wrapped your legs around his hips and carried you back to bed. He kissed your forehead, then your nose and finally your mouth. “Time to sleep.” He whispered and you smiled against his lips.

“Should we set the alarm?” You were so used to both of you getting up for practice that it was a force of habit to ask.

“I think we deserve to sleep in tomorrow (Y/N).” He chuckled. “We don’t have to be anywhere until late afternoon. Which gives us ample time to do that again.”

“Mmm, I do like what you’re thinking there.” He stole one last kiss, before tucking you into his side; your head resting on his chest. Your fingers danced along his skin as he ran his up and down your arm and you thought this just might be a little bit of heaven.  

[soulwillower]

buttercup • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: Would you mind writing a Richie Tozier X reader soulmate AU where Richie is VERY self conscious and he finds out that the reader is his soulmate and the reader is well known and very pretty, so he’s just like djjdjfgjjcbvnfnf but once they actually meet she really likes him? :0 thanks if you consider!

warning: swearing, angst, richie being edgy and also a bit unstable (king shit), neuroatypical richie!!!, fluff, soulmate au!! <33 also sorry this may be rough, i havent edited it at all

[reader + losers are in college]

lmk what u guys think of this one,... idk LOL

4.1k words

♡

richie was about to be sick. yes, he really, really was going to vomit in approximately ten seconds and he didn’t know what he was going to do. the room, full of barely-adults chugging jungle juice was sweaty and bustling and the walls were closing in on him quick. those people who weren't in the main rooms were doing sniff in the bathrooms and blocking his pathway to heaven (the toilet) so he quickly stumbles towards the sliding-glass door.

he passes a guy who claps his shoulder and says in a deep voice, "you good, bro?"

no, no. he's not good, bro. thanks for asking, though.

as he finally breaks free of the plastic, out of the crusty balloon that was holding his body hostage, he takes a deep breath and sprawls himself on the back deck, staring up at the clouds in the nighttime sky. maybe he should go home and mull this over, before he crams it down his own throat and chokes to death, alone and broken on the back deck of a 22 year old business major's rental house.

he laughs to himself - an image which he's sure would be a full on maniacal scene to an onlooker - as he lights a cigarette with very shaky fingers. even if he chooses to give this situation some thought, he will end up being forced regardless because this is, quite literally, richard tozier's destiny.

y/n y/l/n is richie's destiny, and it makes him feel like complete shit.

you see - his whole life, richie knew about the fucking soulmate tattoos. of course he did, everybody did - it was, like, one of the first things you learn, ever. he knows that there's basically a soulmate for every person and often times the soulmate marks were different, the ways of finding your soulmate were wide and far.

for most of richie's life - actually, almost all of it up until the last month - he'd had a big, fat 0 tattooed on his arm and below it a humiliating phrase that was quite the epitome of richie himself.

yet it never changed, which led him, his friends, and his parents to determine that he'd gotten a time-counter soulmate mark, which he likes to pride himself on believing he did not give a single fuck about.

the number is supposed to count the amount of time that you've spent with your soulmate, and there's usually a sentence or phrase that's associated with your soulmate's first thoughts of you below it. and yeah, of course the first thing the lucky guy or gal thought of richie is 'wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.' pretty fucking on-brand, if richie says so himself.

so yeah, he never really paid attention to his soulmate mark - partly because the thought of emotionally opening up to someone enough for them to know his whole and true self was repulsive and terrifying enough to make him physically ill, enough for him to develop a crazy sense of humor as a less-than proficient coping mechanism for the insecurity and fear that lives in his mind rent-free, 24/7 365. but mostly he didn't pay attention to the mark because, you know, he thought it was lame.

that is, until it changed from the 0.

it happened on the first day of classes fall semester of this, his freshman year of college.

which, honestly, was a huge fucking bummer, because he literally came into contact with almost 800 new people that first day through classes, dorms, walking around campus, and the dining hall. and yet, as he got back to his dorm and smoked a bowl with bill, he'd noticed that his arm had said 00:51:26.

bill had been so excited he'd almost lifted richie through the roof, because 'holy sh-shit, rich, y-you did it!'

it was hard to believe someone was out there for him, though. and yeah, he didn't give a fuck about it, but he also kind of did.

richie, now thinking back on that day, groans a bit. if he'd just known, if he had just fucking looked at the thigh of the girl in front of him with the soft-looking grin and the alluring scent of orange creamsicle shampoo, who'd smiled a bit when he borrowed a pen - if he'd just known then that y/n was meant to spend the rest of her life with him, he could've... well, he's not really sure what he could have done.

he thinks to that moment in time, as he was blowing smoke out the dorm window with bill and giggling as he ate an entire bag of cheez-its, and how much he wanted to know who it was back then.

but tonight, it had become a nightmare when the information practically fell into his lap. he's at this house party in late september, and about five minutes ago it was just boring enough to warrant sitting on the rug in the living room and just fun enough to actually stay.

“-yeah, she said the first time you guys met was in microeconomics, right?” ben says, and richie huffs in agreement as he picks at the skin on his nails. ben was talking about her again, and richie's heart was beating stupidly hard. y/n, one of his closest friends that he'd made outside of the losers, never failed to make his heart run a goddamn marathon.

“-she told me the first thing she noticed was that you were wearing socks with sandals. and she thought that your socks were really ugly.” he finishes with a laugh and richie’s head snaps up at that. he feels chills spill over back as if he’d been doused with ice water and he gapes at ben. “wait, what?” richie shudders, the words escaping his lips quietly enough that his friends mistake it for a forceful exhale brought on by offense at the word 'ugly.'

“well she was right to think that.” stan says from behind his solo cup, carefree, as if richie’s life wasn’t crashing to an alarming and unbelievable halt. eddie giggles faintly somewhere from the floor where the losers are sitting, but richie’s mind is reeling too much for him to react to or even comprehend anything.

“rich, i th-thought i got you to st-stop wearing socks and sandals so long ago.” bill adds, laughing into his hand. but richie’s barely registering any other fucking information because he’s staring at ben, who is finally noticing his friend’s perplexed face. “you good, rich?” ben asks carefully.

“wh-er, wait. what exactly did she say?” richie asks, really not wanting to know the answer and yet wanting to know more than life itself. it can't be her. he’s getting odd looks from everyone now, but he's starting to breathe quickly and he thinks he might vomit. he kind of regrets never showing anybody but big bill his soulmate mark, because he's suffocating right now in embarrassment and bill is a little too drunk to assume what richie's assuming right now.

“wait, y/n y/l/n, right? from my dorm. she’s here tonight, she told me- oh, y/n!” stan calls, looking directly over richie’s shoulder. it happens so fast. y/n, in the flesh, walks past at just that moment, breaking out into a breath-taking, world-halting smile. richie's chest hurts worse than it ever has before as she waves and bustles over to plop herself next to richie. and holy shit, she's wearing shorts because even though it's cold out, the house is warm and richie can see dark ink on her thigh. a soulmate tattoo. he can't draw his eyes away even though his brain is screaming to knock it off because there's going to be something there he doesn't want to accept, but he then does it anyways.

he almost hyperventilates as he reads the words emblazoned on her thigh,

27:36:08 and right below it: "holy hell her hair smells like orange creamsicle"

he almost sobs right then and there as she greets him with a soft hand on his shoulder, completely unaware of their fate and richie has to stand up abruptly because he can literally feel the numbers changing on his arm as the seconds go by with y/n at his side.

and now, mere minutes later he's out here, laying in self pity as anxiety claws at every inch of his body and fear tingles on him like the slight presence of snowflakes falling on his skin - briefly he wonders if, as an older man, he'll wonder how he never got cold wearing nothing, vulnerable as he welcomes in that falling snow.

he would be totally daft not to wonder how he ended up with a soulmate like her, someone not only so fucking attractive but so kind and undeserving of a monstrosity of a human like him. she is, in every place he isn't, a complete and utter success of a person; he's a hurricane where she's whitecaps in the sea, he's loud and abrupt while she is kind and outgoing. maybe they do work well together, hell - they spend enough time on study dates outside of class for him to know that he does really like her. but richie also knows his standoffish, happy-go-lucky and untamed personality paired with his unwillingness to make himself appear vulnerable to most people will probably have a very large impact on... whatever it is that happens with y/n.

because that's really the point, isn't it?

she is stuck with him. bucky beaver, the trashmouth, mr. i-can't-keep-my-trap-shut-for-three-seconds. y/n, the most incredible person in this world, is the kind of person that was designed for richie to admire from afar, as he is so willing to suffer through. because as much as it hurts to watch her and to love her without loving her, it is a thousand times safer for both of them than the inevitable look of disappointment that will befall y/n’s angelic features when she discovers who her burden of a soulmate is.

the thought makes richie choke out a weak sob, sitting up and digging the heel of his palms into his sockets, trying to scrub out the image of himself from his brain. awful, awful, bad.

he takes a long drag from his cigarette and for a brief moment he wonders if, just maybe, she’ll love him back eventually. the thought makes him feel like crying all over again.

huge nose, big teeth, awkwardly skinny and too tall. maybe he's got nice hair, but he sometimes wakes up too late and can only brush his teeth and swipe on deodorant before he's sprinting out his dorm with his pickle socks and stan's old sandals, trudging to class and getting in the way of y/n's future.

but he is her future, after all - how can that be right?

he doesn't have enough time to take another drag from his cig as he hears the glass door open, the noise from the party bursting through the gap in the foundation of the house and sending him back to five minutes, ago, inside. he cranes his neck and can't bring himself to be surprised when he sees her, backlit from the party inside and figure in his mind standing like the only being in the world.

she thinks he looks devastatingly beautiful tonight. she loves the awkwardness in his bones, the way he carries himself with confidence although she's not sure he always really has it. he's wearing some dumb socks again as usual, though they're mostly covered by his black pants and red high-tops this time. it makes her smile softly.

she wants to know him, really know him, as more than just a classmate, a crush, a boy who's friends with stan uris from the floor above her own room. she wants to feel his large hands on her in more than just fleeting greetings, knucks to the shoulder or jaw. she wants the sharp taste of nicotine and mint from those life savers he was always sucking on in her own mouth as he holds her tightly against him, she wants to know everything about him and be with him, even if they aren't somehow destined to be forever. which, she thinks with an array of wild animals tumbling around her chest, they might be.

after all, someone at this party is her soulmate, and she's almost 99.8% sure it's richie. it gives her the most beautiful butterflies she's ever had, even when he stares at her from the deck with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"what’s up, buttercup?” is all she says, in her mind because he's stunned her to near-silence once again by just existing, and in his mind because she is the most perfect being.

he doesn't respond despite being completely charmed by her, because he's breathing in the nicotine and its making his fingers twitch and even though he's sober by now, he thinks he may be tweaking a bit, mostly from the overwhelming set of information that just smacked into his face when y/n walked over into that room.

he watches as suddenly she's dropping herself so she's sat next to him, her legs swinging off the edge of the deck. she eyes his cigarette. "that's so unhealthy, rich." she says softly, teasing but with a lacing of truth behind it that really makes richie itch to never smoke ever again in his life. but he's a stubborn ass, so he instead takes a deeper drag, maintaining eye contact. he can feel one tear slip from his eye and he feels so fucking melodramatic as he does so, but he's at the lowest he's been in a while, so he gives himself a bit of credit.

she reaches out and pulls the cigarette directly from between his lips, sending him a pointed look as she presses it out on the finished wood of the deck. he wipes the tear away when she's not looking. and as she turns back he smirks, unsure what else to do, as he blows the smoke out of his mouth towards her face.

"hi, toots." he says in what he hopes is a normal tone, despite his blotchy and tear-trailed face. she blinks her eyes owlishly at him but just shrugs, "you left a little prematurely back there. what, do i smell that bad?" she jokes. no, he thinks, you smell like orange creamsicles.

it's bittersweet, the irony in her statement. because he knows that she probably knows what she smells like every day, as it's literally tattooed right on the meat of her leg, on display for her and whoever else lucky enough to find themselves being acquainted with the skin of her upper thigh. the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

maybe if he were feeling a little less in-the-dumps, a little less like a complete and utter disappointment and failure that ruined this sweet girl's life, he would have ribbed her back a bit. you know, grind her gears in typical tozier fashion.

but he's exhausted and so distraught that he can't bring himself to even look at her. "i'm not in the mood" he grumbles, his heart pounding. she frowns, tilting her head.

"okay, what's wrong, richie?" she asks, and it's in that caring voice that she uses that isn't pitying but simply solicitous in nature. her calming force on him is obvious and immediate and his teeth stop rattling around in his head

he wants to scream because she's burning warm and perfect while he's frigid cold inside his body; a wasteland full of broken slinkies and half-formulated 'your mom' jokes that are melded to the crust of him with the tar that's been sucked straight from those damn ciggies. for crying out loud, if he were to so much as touch her, she'd get corrupted.

she notices as he scoots a bit away from her, and her heart hurts. he's so upset, clearly, and yet it hurts her that he can't trust himself or her enough to open up; no fault of his own surely, but heartbreaking all the same. "i care about you, and i really want to be here for you." she says it like there's going to be more, but the words kind of die in her throat as she realizes the extend of her words.

holy shit, she thinks, i'd go to the ends of the earth for him. if richie asked me to, i think i'd probably kill the queen.

"i stubbed my toe, and it really hurts." he says then, and the absurdity of his excuse makes her laugh out loud, head tilting back towards the moon as the bubbly giggles tumble from her lips. she looks at him after and his face is a twisted mix of affection and utter pain, a combination that hurts her to her core but lights a fuel in her that makes her want to help him.

"it's true." he mutters, motioning to his shoe limply, and she looks at his foot, the tip of his converse scribbled in sharpie with the word 'half-brain' and then a bunch of hearts.

"i like your socks." she says absentmindedly, grinning at him as she says it, voice teasing. but the reaction she was hoping for was nowhere to be seen as richie suddenly heaves a hiccup-sob, one so upsetting and quiet that she thinks she misheard it.

but he's keeling over and clutching his face with his hands, shaking his head, and her heart breaks. "richie, honey please tell me what's going on. or i can just sit here, if you'd rather-"

her sentence is cut off with richies own rushed words, expelled from his mouth so quickly that it's almost as if they were trying to escape while his lips tried to hold them in.

"-you're going to have to spend the rest of your life trying to force yourself to love me, and that terrifies me.”

as he says it, his stomach twists itself inwards at his admission and he thinks he's going to be sick. he doesn't deserve you, you're going to resent him for it. she's silent for a few moments, and he doesn't dare look anywhere near her as tears trail down his solemn cheekbones and drop onto the black corduroy that wraps around his jittering legs.

"richie, please, what are you trying to say?" she says quietly, sounding scared, nervous, upset... richie did that. it's his fault. he tilts his head back, his brain buzzing in guilt. "fuck," he says, and it comes out broken, "you... i- you're my soulmate." he says, looking down to where his chest rises and falls almost unnaturally, a consequence of muscle memory being tampered with by the lethally college combination of nicotine, alcohol and marijuana on an empty stomach.

earlier he was afraid that if he opened his mouth too wide he would lose control of his tongue and then the words would come out without him wanting them to, but he knows he's basically sober by now, as sober as y/n is next to him - he's just neurotic, but he doesn't want her to know that, because oh god, what if she hated him for it?

she wouldn't, right? isn't she supposed to find a way to love him?

this was a really stupid idea, but in his mind it was one that had to be done. shutting his eyes, he tugs the sleeve of his left arm upwards, taking a shaky breath. again, it's silent as she reads the words written there. wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.

she stares at the words, and the number above it, then she looks at her own thigh, where the exact same number counts on in time with his.

he wastes no time, though: "-don't worry, doll. i've got it figured out, we can just- maybe we can get yours covered and you don't have to think about it anymore. fi-find someone better, like, oh, bill - he'd treat you nice i think. just- we don't have to think about it, i'm sorry." he says in one breath, not looking at her at all.

"richie, how can i be yours if you're not mine?" she says thickly because she's fighting off tears wondering how someone so incredible and full of life could feel so undeserving.

"you can't want me, you can't." he insists, not looking at her as she gapes at him because if he were to look at her expression he may lose it. it's quiet again in their own little world here, the air silent and numbing as y/n takes a breath.

"oh my god, wait richie how are we this stupid?" she asks, perking up and lightly slapping his arm. he looks at her in shock as she begins to laugh, "we've been alone together so many times. how did we not notice?" she asks, and he chuckles a bit, shrugging.

"maybe we're not the sharpest crayons in the drawer, toots. all i'm sayin' is that i figured it out first." he says cheekily, and secretly both of them are shocked to see how quickly they fell together, as if the knowledge that they were made for each other made all their insecurities fall away.

her face softens again. "you know, i saw my timer counting tonight and i was hoping more than anything that you'd be here. that we'd be-" she adds softly, a hand landing lightly on richie's thigh, sending licks of flames up his body. she takes a breath and restarts. "do you know how fucking bad i wanted it to be you?"

and just like that, y/n unintentionally provides a luscious mix of words and tricks that fill him with barely enough confidence to let him bet when he knows he should fold.

what's life without a little risk?

he meets her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and hers are large and hopeful as they wait patiently for him to give her something. but he still can't speak without running his mouth, so instead he cups her cheeks. her lips part slowly and he stares in awe at her raw beauty, unable to hold it in longer.

he presses his lips to her quickly and to her it feels like he is trying to prove something. it makes her heart soar as he comes alive against her, pressing as enthusiastically as she is into him. he tastes, as she'd guessed, like nicotine but mostly like a mint and it makes her grin as he pulls back.

"is this okay?" he's asking then, his thumb soothing over her cheek sweetly and giving her the same butterflies she gets when he smiles; the very same butterflies that release when he says anything to her, when he comes to her dorm for a study date with two red bulls in his hand, and when she realized their tattoos beat the same.

"yeah, of course." she whispers against his lips, the feeling of his teasing lightly making her sniffle. she presses their lips together again, this time warmer, more comfortably and his hands move to her hips and tug her closer, her hands winding to his neck as his own hands explore her body, caressing her sides gently. he pulls back and holds her softly.

"your hair smells nice." he says sheepishly, and she grins so widely she thinks she may split in two. her heart flutters as she looks into his eyes, finding nothing but love. "orange creamsicle, huh?" she asks with pink cheeks, and he laughs lightly, nodding his head. "best smell ever, babe."

"you make me happy." she says it onto his lips again, and the shiver that runs down his spine is a feeling he wouldn't mind feeling forever. his heart soars because he believes her, he trusts her. she wouldn't lie to him.

"we're so dramatic, aren't we?" richie jokes, his walls sliding back up a bit, but as y/n cuddles into his chest, head against his beating heart as she presses kisses to his neck, he realizes she accepts him.

"yeah, well. we're made for each other, aren't we rich?" she asks gently as his hand falls to brush over her thigh, right over the words. "that's right, toots." he says softly, looking down at her hairline softly, still in disbelief that it worked out for him. she turns to look at him, cheeks dusted a bit as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​ @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs 

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 9 of 26

Title: The Priory of the Orange Tree (2019) 

Author: Samantha Shannon

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Third-Person, Female Protagonists, LGBT Protagonists

Rating: 10/10

Date Began: 3/12/2021

Date Finished: 4/12/2021

1000 years ago, the world burned. Draconic creatures terrorized the land, led by a horrific evil known as the Nameless One. But then something happened that sent the monsters into a seemingly endless sleep, and the world has rebuilt in the centuries since.

But the Draconic evil begins to stir in its slumber, and the divided nations of the world have little chance to stop it. Eadaz is a mage from the Priory of the Orange Tree, sent to spy on the northern queendom of Inys. Legend has it that as long as the royal line continues, the world will be free from the Nameless One. While it's a long shot, Ead guards the young Queen Sabran closely to preserve the peace. However, as she and the queen grow closer to each other, Ead has to decide where her loyalties lie. Meanwhile, her close friend Loth is secretly sent into exile by the royal spymaster due to his controversial friendship with the queen. Supposedly sent as an ambassador to the newly Draconic kingdom of Yscalin, he soon finds himself out of his depth, entrusted with a deadly secret.

In the isolationist Eastern country of Seiiki, Tané wants nothing more than to become a dragon rider. The dragons of the East are old, wise, and revered as gods-- eternally opposed to the Draconic legions of the West. However, the night before the choosing ceremony that will decide her fate, she breaks isolation and discovers a young man from the West on the shore. Rather than report him to the authorities, she and her friend smuggle him to the island of Orisima, the only place Westerners are permitted. Niclays Roos, an old man exiled to Orisima by Queen Sabran, soon finds himself caught in the conflict. He believes if he finds an elixir for eternal life, he will finally be able to return home. When he's forced to shelter the forbidden Westerner, Niclays' entire way of life is upended-- but he is soon granted the opportunity to escape his exile.  

'My grandmother once said that when a wolf comes to the village, a shepherd looks first to her own flock. The wolf bloods his teeth on other sheep, and the shepherd knows it will one day come for hers, but she clings to the hope that she might be able to keep him out. Until the wolf is at her door.’

Full review, minor spoilers, and content warnings under the cut.

Content warnings for the book:  Some sexual content. Blood, gore, violence, traumatic injury, suicide, and death. Torture and execution. Miscarriage. Body horror (kinda). Drug use.

Clocking in at just over 800 pages, The Priory of the Orange Tree is a long, detailed story. I tend to label things Epic Fantasy when they have world-changing stakes. While Priory certainly fits that criteria, it's the first fantasy book I've read in a while that really does feel like an epic. It stars a huge cast of interesting characters from many walks of life, all of whom find themselves caught up in a world-spanning conflict. It captures the sense of a standalone, grand adventure that shorter fantasy novels of today don't typically reach.

With a book this long, it would be easy to ramble on forever about everything I liked. However, I'm going to try to keep it short and simple.

One of my favorite things about this story was the sheer depth of the world. Lots of people compare this to The Lord of the Rings not for its tropes, but the attention to detail regarding the countries, politics, history, religion, and so on. I'm inclined to agree with this assessment. The world felt alive and multi-dimensional. I could pinpoint many parallels to our own mythologies and histories-- particularly drawn from Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. There's also a clear love of language in the story via its beautiful prose. I like to think I know English pretty well, but this book taught me quite a few new words! Might fuck around and call sunsets "rutilant" from now on.

I thought all four leads were interesting. Ead is kinda the "main" lead of the novel, although Tané overtakes her in the latter half. Everyone had different personalities and backstories, and I genuinely enjoyed all of their arcs. Niclays in particular would be an easy character to hate; of the four, he's the most selfish and does some real questionable shit. At the same time, it's hard not to sympathize with him. He's a sad, unjustly exiled elder who's lost the one man he cared about, and finds himself in a desperate situation. These types of characters are interesting to me; a glimpse of what anyone can become given the wrong circumstances and cruel treatment.

With stories like this, one of the most satisfying payoffs is how the different characters and stories come together. It was interesting to see how their paths converged and diverged over time, and ultimately how everything tied together in the end. I also appreciated the character relationships. I liked that Loth's close friendships with both Sabran and Ead were intimate yet platonic without some awkward love triangle.

From some story specifics... I'm a sucker for the bodyguard romance trope, and seeing it done with women in a mainstream novel gave me life. I thought the romance between Ead and Sabran was really sweet; I didn't see how it would work early on since Sabran was a little insufferable, but she had hidden depths (oh god, another weakness of mine). I also really liked the idea of traditional European and Asian dragons being diametrically opposed, and that being a core theme of the story. Intelligent and/or talking animals are another thing I adore in spec fic, so I dug characters like Aralaq. Kalyba's ongoing relevance and gradual exposition was also neat; I love minor world details that turn out super relevant later.

Also, the entire final battle/ending sequence was SO good. Really creative and action packed. Action scenes often blend together for me (and can be logistical nightmares) but Priory's climactic ending was just awesome. I don't want to spoil specifics, but it reminded me of many beloved epic battles in modern fantasy. Avatar the Last Airbender, How To Train Your Dragon, and Pirates of the Caribbean all came to mind. 

My main criticism with Priory is that often, the plot relied on convenient coincidence to get the characters out of a jam or otherwise advance the story. I can excuse a minor contrivance or two for the sake of a smooth story, and the scope of this book is big enough that it'd be hard to avoid. But some are nuts. For example, Loth gets rescued from certain death by a giant ichneumon while traveling through the mountains. We later learn the ichneumon is Aralaq, a friend of Ead's, and he just happened to be in the middle of nowhere, far from his home, and stumbled upon Loth. Loth, who ALSO happens to be Ead's best friend... which Aralaq presumably doesn't know?

Another is the MAJOR SPOILER regarding the rising jewel's location. I didn't hate the twist itself, but there was so little build up to it. I wish there were more early hints to justify it, because with setup it would be a pretty cool development. These things didn't ruin my enjoyment of the story, but the borderline deus ex machina (machinae? machinas?) did take me out of it a bit. It’s possible I missed stuff so I’ll give some benefit of the doubt. 

Overall, though, The Priory of the Orange Tree is a fun, world-spanning adventure. Like any long book, it's an investment to get into. However, if you're looking for a standalone, feminist fantasy epic, this is certainly a good place to start.