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geralts-yenn · 1 year

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Bonfire

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

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

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

word count: 6,7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May, one year ago:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Darlin', I'm sorry. I really am."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sequel: Something like that

#captain sy x reader #syverson fanfiction #syverson #captain syverson x reader #my writing #bonfire #syverson x reader #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill characters

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 1 month

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kdnfb's Ten Years of Fanfiction Mania

Featuring: Unmasked

Summary: Written under an Anonymous pseudonym ~M~ to fill the following prompt ~ Historical Katniss and Peeta hate each other. They attend a masquerade ball and for some reason end up kissing each other. Sparks fly everywhere. Katniss tries to find the man behind the mask but Peeta knows it was Katniss though he doesnt say anything. They end up bethrothed even if they 'despise' each other. How they fall in love is up to u and how katniss figured out it was peeta is up to u

Rating: E for explicit sexual content, explicit language, implied/referenced rape/nonconsensual (not everlark), implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced miscarriage, discussions of illness, war, and injury in a historical setting, ptsd, minor character death. They worst of these tags happens offscreen and is merely discussed and dealt with rather than shown here.

A/N: ~Unmasked~ is my longest fic in terms of word count (around 234k), although Outside Chance and Spellbound are not too far behind and are both incomplete. Unmasked started as something meant to be fun and cathartic, then turned into a ridiculously long and self indulgent fic that I still, to this day, have no idea if the anonymous person who submitted the prompt to @everlarkficexchange even read, let alone whether or not they liked it. But I love what I produced for this fic.

Why write it anonymously and only reveal myself later? A couple reasons. 1) Historical is not my wheel house. At least not writing it. I am a shameless consumer of historical romances. I did some research for this fic but not nearly the level I would've liked to have done. Eventually, I said screw it, it's about the vibes not the accuracy. 2) I had a pile of unfinished wips when I started this, to include Outside Chance and Spellbound (both of which are still unfinished hmmmmm) and I really didn't want a lot of questions about when I was going to get back to those while I was working on this because 3) I'd just gone through a small slice of writerly hell to the point that I seriously considered deleting my entire tumblr and all of my fanfic. Details are not important right now, the result is. That's probably the closest I've ever come to calling myself done with fandom.

Then this prompt posted to EFE and wouldn't leave me alone. Eventually, I decided that if I was going to write it, I wanted to write it with as little pressure as possible. So I chose to write and post it as ~M~ until it was finished. Plus, I thought it might make it fun for people other than me if there was a bit of mystery behind it. And I don't regret doing that.

Writing behind a mask allowed me to be as long winded and self-indulgent as I wanted to without worrying about how tight the storyline was or how accurate the historical details were, or wondering if I'd be walking into my tumblr and a barrage of the kind of messages I'd come to dread receiving. The only thing I worried about, really was if the amount and kind of smut I included gave me away prematurely lmao.

While this was my first real foray into the realm of historical fics, I am hoping it's not the last. I've got too many ideas and half started pieces to back out of it now. But those, like this one, will probably remain untethered to a specific real place, and a specific time, mainly because I just don't have that kind of time for research if I'm not getting paid to do it lol. They will be works of love if not works of accuracy.

Unmasked on AO3

#ten years of fanfiction mania #unmasked #unmasked nonsense #i meant to post this like three weeks ago #ooops

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safe-from-sharp-teeth · 7 days

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Ayo! I haven't answered asks in FOREVER, so it's time for some spring cleaning :) Also answering other stuff, like what I've been up to.

If you sent an ask and it's not here, sorry! I may have deleted it because the prompt required too much work of me and I wasn't feeling it, or I was uncomfortable.

Let's gooooo !

Firstly - where have I been? Work REALLY picked up in a way I wasn't expecting over the last...4 months? I was working double and often triple the hours I was used to. With work, vacations, random illnesses, and many video games I got a bit too obsessed with, this blog took a backseat. Plus, sometimes I get disinterested in vore when obsessed with something else. Sometimes, that lasts months, and it did this time.

But now I can confirm that work will FINALLY chill for a long period of time. I'm free! And more motivated than ever! Wahoo! Thanks for your support ALWAYS.

Next big question - when am I going to do more of my story? The one with Asyr? AHHHHHGHHGHH this story has consumed my life. I think about it daily. I dream about it. And yet I'm not as comfortable writing as I am drawing, so writing is a slow process that my perfectionist ass struggles with. I can assure you that there is a story in the works - and I am working on it at a snail's pace.

Okay, ask time...

@ponyluvesonic09 AYO maybe I'll make a full ghost pred pros/con list for you, because that sounds awesome! Kir//by is one of the silliest canon preds out there. Honestly getting eaten by him would be like getting vored by a vacuum, LOL. Galaxy tummy!! Imagine a prey floating around in one of those item bubbles all grumpy. Thank u for the ask, this is good stuff.

no. ( /・・)ノ

UWAGHHHHH I LIKE HER!!! Never played O/verwat/ch but what a gem!! I have a random fondness for centaur-like preds nowadays. She looks so cozy. THANK U I LOVE HER!!!

@tiger9o0 I have not played r//ain w//orld or know what it's about, LOL. Looks like a platformer? Man, I'm terrrriiiiibblleee at those. But whoever this is on the cover, I LIKE EM. A+. (That might not answer ur question shdjbghkjg SORRY)

@heimkoheimkofan LOVE THAT I GOT THE ROBOT ENJOYERS AFTER THAT ONE POST....YES yall are so right and I'm so wrong for just hard metal robot tums. I will rectify my mistake soon I PROMISE. Also oh! You were the one asking about stomachs other than elemental ones! IVE HAD THAT IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER IM SORRY AHHHH. I REALLY love your imagination with tums and you've inspired me to think of some awesome environments! THANKS

@fastfur07 BWAH?? Ugh I'm all over the place when it comes to art. Some pieces take 30 min (like the zangooc I drew at the top of this post), most take 2 days. Some really hard drawings like my wolf bat creechur from a few months ago and my shrimp from last year took a month. THANK U??

We're going back so far that I think this is about my naga oc (which I'm in the midst of redesigning cough cough). For him, he would never tolerate being prey, extremely unwilling bahaha. In general, I haven't thought much about naga or snake prey! I get the appeal of slurping up a noodle, but I just prefer human prey :)

@fastfur07 you fiend, you always give me the best drawing ideas. UNFORTUNATELY, I didn't have time to draw something for this one. BUTTTT....

(i've had this next one in my drafts for forever)

then i had a silly comic. I'll post the wip here because I won't finish it, so enjoy bahaha.

@blizzaria123-blog THANK U im rapidly melting into a puddle from ur words

@mrpotatomanversionsix relevant. i will continue drawing them 4 u

?!??!!??!?!??!?!?!??!?!? how dare u enter my ask box with this blasphemy

@sfwsillynoms WAH!!! you!!! I'm currently redesigning my naga oc but when I finish I'll tag you, if you're still around! And he can 100% be drawn with ur preysona :)

@mystorl i am SO late to this, but SMART. I like it. I shall give my lil guy this friend. I just want to let u know that I see this and it's wonderful and I will do something abt it.

I remember this ask made me laugh a ton when I first got it. thank u. idk why I find this so funny

@sillylilprey IM CRYING RIGHT BACK AHHHH this is an ancient ask, but thank u! hope you're still enjoying!

@terrytheinsane finally, the last ask in my askbox. I love it. You have been wronged with how long it took me to answer you. I have gained knowledge from your ask. THANKS

AND THAT'S IT!! Thanks guys, I hope to make you proud! Feel free to send more asks, and hopefully I will answer in a TIMELY manner.

Goodnight! And remember: Nice Vore ᕕ༼⌐■-■༽ᕗ

#zan asks #phew that was an essay #tldr im a lot more free now aaaanddd I shall answer asks in a more timely manner from now on #and i say thank u a lot #i appreciate and read EVERY ask #zan art #zangooc

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starsnores · 2 months

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Ok so. I wanted to share a wip of what I was working on for the prisoner au fic. I do really wanna write more for it, I’m just. Very stuck. Writing things and then deleting them, really chasing my own tail. Writers block? I feel like I’m very bad at stringing the little scenes or ideas I have together into something bigger. But I do like how this next part was coming out and idk. Part of me hopes that talking about it more will encourage me to work on it. Bc I liked talking about my aus and stuff and I haven’t in a while. This is supposed to be a very, very rough start to the next chapter.

Rough fabric chafed his chitin. The clothes he’d been given were almost as threadbare as the old tshirt now lying on the floor at his feet. He had scrambled away from the clown, locking himself in the ablution chamber. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there. Rummaging through the drawers and cabinets hadn’t turned up anything useful, would have no way to hide it if he had, didn’t even have underwear to tuck something into. Karkat wondered if they still had his things or if it had all been incinerated already. He could hear gamzee on the other side of the door, moving with slow heavy steps, evidently not worried about him, at all. How long could he stay in here, avoiding the inevitable. He couldn’t stop the clown from dragging him out if he wanted.

The door hissed as it slid open, and the first thing he saw was Gamzee perched on the back of the couch. In the time that Karkat had locked himself in the abultion chamber he had changed, dressed in an initiate subjugglator uniform, boldly patterned but far less ostentatious then other branches of the cult. It made the sharp angles of his body appear that much more dangerous.

Gamzes eyes flicked toward him, and the fine hairs on his neck stood on end.

"You done, motherfucker?"

Karkat crossed his arms over his chest, still feeling naked, "Yeah. You’re r leaving?”

"We got shit to do. C'mere."

"What do you mean ‘we’?”

Gamzee was already stalking forward something in his hand. Karkat flinched back but Gamzee moved faster, dropping onto a knee and grabbing his foot, throwing him off balance. Karkat reached to steady himself on the first thing his hands could find, tangling his fingers in Gamzee’s wild hair.

He was gently laced into a pair of sandals, and he tried not to shiver at the feeling if cold calloused hands cupping his ankle.

"Never knew they made fuckers as tiny as you."

Karkat thought about ripping the curls from his head.

When he finished he herded Karkat out of the front door. The door clicked as it slid shut behind them. “That’s it? You’re not going to put me on a leash or something?”

The clown shrugged. “Ain’t really got to. You can wander off if you’d like, just don’t think most juggalos would take to kindly to a mutant poking around where he shouldn’t be.” He turned down the corridor and, after a moment, Karkat followed.

The further Gamzee took him out of the hab blocks the more crowded it became. He had never seen so many of the cult in one place, had avoided seeing this many at all costs. Most didn’t seem to notice him. Something less than not caring, their eyes bouncing off of him as he trailed behind gamzee. A few, though, stared openly. Like they were trying to peel back his skin.

Hiding his blood color was habit, but he hadn’t felt this conscious of it in perigrees. Too much time spent alone, maybe.

He tried to keep pace with Gamzee, his long strides carried him far even at his leisurely pace, and karkat was still fatigued by his injuries. He felt like he was chasing after his lusus again. He hated it.

#textsnores #prisoner au

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writerscafehub · 27 days

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀: 𝐋𝐢𝐳

@avengers-resident-idiot

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

About a 3 I think, I hav𖤓 liz 𖤓en’t written anything in a while because I’ve been busy with work and school. I struggle with actually finishing anything, I swear my drafts is a graveyard of WIPs. Once I get done with my finals I plan to actually try and sit down and actually write a fic or at the very least headcanons

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I feel like my writing is very self indulgent, I fantasize for literal days or weeks about what I personally would want to happen and imagine myself as the reader in the fic and just run with it. I have tried a few times to write an idea that a friend gives me and I just struggle cause I get stuck in my own head wondering if I’m writing it how they personally would want it.

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Literally everybody in the server, the fact that y'all are so imaginative and are so motivated to write fics on a consistent basis never fails to amaze me, I am on my knees begging for a crumb of the kind of motivation y’all got.

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

Honestly probably the very first fic I ever wrote, which was a Zayn Malik fanfiction (I was a HUGE One Direction fan…honestly I still am). It was terrible, and so ridiculously cringey but to middle school me, I was the next Shakespeare and was just proud that I actually wrote something and put it on the internet for the world to see and I regret nothing.

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

The easiest is probably Peter Parker cause he’s such a sassy little shit and I love him. The hardest is probably Dr. Spencer Reid, I’ve tried before and I just can’t get his mannerisms right.

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

I feel like my most of my wips are friends to lovers with misunderstandings galore

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

I’ve been planning this fic out in my head for the past month, idk for sure what I’m gonna call it, but it’s gonna be an Evan “Buck” Buckley x reader fic, I’m considering adding Eddie Diaz into the mix cause honestly it’s what we deserve. Basically the reader is going to open up a bakery across from the fire station and our lovely firefighters can’t resist the smell of warm bread and coffee in the morning so they go and meet Reader (considering giving her a nickname) who is dancing to 80’s music and may or may not be covered in flour, and from there hijinks, first dates, and love confessions ensue.

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

One Direction and I regret nothing

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

Ooo misunderstandings that can be easily resolved if they JUST TALK, found family tropes almost always make me cry, fake dating never fails to make me laugh because the characters never think it through and I love that for them with that being said idiots to lovers is another big one, especially if they share exactly one brain cell.

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

Probably anything dark, nothing wrong with dark fics, I just don’t think I’d ever be able to write a dark fic well enough where it was actually understandable or good for that matter.

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

Another One Direction fanfiction, but this time Liam Payne, it's since been deleted but basically gang leader!Liam and the reader were highschool sweethearts and broke up cause Liam betrayed her, if i remember right he gets her brother arrested? Years later she comes back to town and is part of an all girls gang and Liam's gang (One Direction) start fighting over territory, there were drunken confessions, a secret child, and attempted kidnappings and literally every other chapter one of them almost died. Middle school me was very proud of it.

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

Steve Rogers x innocent!reader, knight!Bucky x princess!Reader, Evan “Buck” Buckley x reader

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Yes, I have so many playlists, everytime I get an idea for a fic I run to Spotify and immediately create a new one and add songs that fit the vibe I’m going for, doesn’t matter what genre or language so long as I think it fits it gets added to the playlist.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

Definitely both, I am not picky whatsoever.

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

Omg yes, I honestly think this is part of the reason it’s so hard for me to finish writing anything. The second I get a new idea for a fic I start imagining all sorts of different scenarios I could put them in like trips to the zoo, grocery shopping or like the same scenes from the fic, but from another character's point of view. Even if it’s not going to be part of the fic I imagine what the proposal would be like, what their vows would be, or how they'd react to their first child being born. My mind goes a hundred miles a minute when I get a new idea, but the second I sit down to write it out poof all the ideas are gone.

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Honestly smut. There are so many talented writers out there who do a great job at writing smut, but whenever I try it just comes out to stiff and doesn’t sound write, so I always end up deleting it

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I was once told I was very good at descriptions, they said they could picture the night sky in their mind and it was like they were there.

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Eh not really, I usually stick to fluff, humor and slight angst, I want to try step out of my comfort zone by writing smut, but it’ll be a while before I post anything

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

Oh my gosh how could I possibly choose, most of the time it just depends what kind of mood I’m in but lately it’s been tooth-rotting fluffy with a tiny bit of angst mixed in

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

At this point in time I do not have any oc’s, but I’m considering creating one for my Evan “Buck” Buckley fic.

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

Probably my WIP Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader because who wouldn’t want to be protected by an extremely handsome Bucky who acts like you're a nuisance, but would do anything to protect you no questions asked if ever necessary?? And also I just love the idea of running down a castle hallway at night wearing a floor length ball gown.

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

Just that my process involves creating the perfect playlist for that specific fic and tons of daydreaming, and while it may take me a long time to finally finish writing, I’m always excited to share it and get feedback!

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

This is from my knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!reader wip

“Do you think I am inadequate because I am a female, my Lord? Is that what you’re saying? You think that I am unfit to rule because I'm a little emotional right now? Well you’re right, I am a little emotional right now. From the moment I was born, it was known that I, and I alone, would be next in line to assume the throne. My entire life was spent preparing for the moment that my reign would begin and I intend to use all the knowledge my father, may God rest his soul, taught me. Just two weeks ago I watched as they lowered my father’s cold, dead body into the ground and not a week later a crown was placed atop my head…. a crown I thought my father would be giving me. I am emotional because right now at this very moment there are rebels out there, only God knows where, hatching plans to storm this castle! This castle has stood here for 300 hundred years and I intend for it to stand for many more. I refuse to let the rebels take my country and everything that my family has worked for. Now, we have much more pressing matters to deal with than your fragile egos, don’t you think my Lords?”

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

Have fun with writing! Don’t worry about whether or not the idea you want to write has been written before because it most definitely has been, but it’s never been written by you!

I’m excited to finally be done with my classes and I hope to to write more and post my fics throughout the summer!

#𖤓 liz 𖤓

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colgatebluemintygel · 4 months

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Pls tell me about oao for the wip ask game

HELLOOO EL my beloved mutual ... oao well.. it's just this silly little thing that i've been working for er ... nearly 2 years 😇 hehe allow me to share some lil deleted snippets with you <3333

from: tuscany part one

Sirius suddenly feels sad and furious all at once. He’s sad that this is a side of Regulus that he’s not allowed to see anymore. He’s furious at Regulus for maintaining this inexplicable distance that seems to have developed between them. Where had everything gone so wrong? Sirius doesn’t even want to answer that question. Where hadn’t it? At some point, they’d stopped talking to each other; Sirius self-destructed and tore through that house like a comet. Regulus retreated so far into himself that Sirius is certain that he left a part of himself behind in that house. Sirius doesn’t blame him. Sometimes he feels the same; that he’s permanently lost a vital part of himself. Perhaps that’s why Sirius is so desperate for love; to feel loved. To feel wanted. To fill the void he feels inside himself. To fill the gaping wound inside himself. And, if Sirius is honest with himself, he’s jealous. He’s horribly, dangerously jealous: he’s jealous that Regulus, who grew up in the same loveless environment as him, has found not just one but two people to spend his life with. Sirius couldn’t even hold down one. And if he’s honest with himself, what Alphard had said the day before had been completely right: the love had long worn off between him and Emmeline. He’d clung to her like a raft. The fear of being alone was worse than whatever hadn’t been working between them.

from: tuscany part two

Sirius remembers the way that Walburga’s face would ripple and contort, her mouth a tight, white line as she’d say, ‘Regulus is a good child, quiet. Not like you were.’ Her comments always perplexed Sirius. he doesn’t remember himself ever making much noise at all. In fact, most of Sirius’s childhood memories involve him trying to take up as little space as possible. He remembers the time that they passed Hamleys and he got a bit teary-eyed because Walburga always refused to let him go inside. He remembers her eyes flaring like quicksilver and the tight grasp of her hand around his wrist as she led him to a nearby restaurant bathroom. He remembers how the lemongrass soap had burned on his tongue for hours afterwards. He’s never liked lemon, since. He has plenty of other memories just like it, accompanied by all the others that he tries his best to forget. Even now, Regulus will make the odd comment about how Sirius rebelled, in ways both small and large, quiet and loud. Sirius doesn’t remember those moments. What he does remember is trying to make himself so small, so quiet and insignificant, that he constantly felt like he was bursting at the seams. Sirius remembers trying so hard, all the time. Regulus remembers Sirius not trying at all. He’s always found it strange how people remember the same events. He wonders how it felt when he was even younger and didn’t know any better than to throw himself down on the ground and scream. Sirius wonders if he’s ever really, truly screamed. He feels like he’s stuck there, sometimes. Stuck in that limbo, that precipice, between a child who screams because they don’t know better, and a child who no longer needs to scream because they’ve learnt how to process their emotions in other ways. Yet, Sirius doesn’t scream, and he doesn’t throw a tantrum. Instead, he slouches back in his seat and stares out the window.

from: berlin??? i think..

The pieces start to slot into place. He remembers their uni years, and how Remus would disappear every night for a few hours, always to reappear looking pink cheeked and messy haired. Even when their lives started to become more separate, their flats scattered across different London boroughs, Remus would always find his way back to Sirius’s flat at the end of the night. He remembers Emmeline the first few times it happened, face drawn and tired, answering the door at 4 am. “It’s Remus,” she’d say, tired and annoyed. “Isn’t there somewhere else he can stay? He has his own flat—“ Then, after the twentieth, fiftieth time, nothing. Remus would always be gone in the morning. They never talked about it. It never struck Sirius as odd until now.

#oao #el tag

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compacflt · 9 months

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I've just started watching The Queen's Gambit and it got me wondering: does Iceman play chess? Cause I can totally see it happening

yeah

this section of my wips got preemptively deleted for being boring and “who cares” and not well written

but yes

#where did you think all the chess metaphors in my fics come from #mav comes home several times to ice and Bradley halfway through The Most Intense Game of Chess you’ve ever seen #he turns around and gets back on his bike and goes somewhere else. not worth it.#those two are crazy.#the point of this one was: mav is the only person ice lets see ‘not perfect’ or ‘perfect but in progress’#Mav gets to see icemanification #everyone else just sees iceman #+ money handling and logistics #+ ice having fun with his subordinates before he outranks the possibility of doing so :)#boring; who cares; not well written #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #dragged out of the Dark Google Doc of deleted shit just for you #every time i enter that Google doc i get seasick

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darkkitty1208 · 5 months

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The past few weeks before I finally returned from my unofficial hiatus, I've lost a lot of my motivation to write and anything to do with being part of the fandom as a whole. I contemplated quitting and never returning again, deleting all my works and socials and any other trace of me anyone could find, but I know that it's just the anxiety talking and my brain playing tricks with me due to IRL stress and that logically, I *do* have a place here in the fandom space. So I held back.

Now that I'm here again -- and have been welcomed very warmly by dear friends -- the urge to create has finally come around again and I want to get back into writing. It's just that, god, I feel very rusty. It's been quite a while and I feel like the words have run away from me after not using them for so long. I look into my mostly-abandoned WIPs and I can't find the right way to continue them.

But despite that, I decided to do a bit of the good ol' self-projecting and started a WIP (instead of finishing my old ones, lol). It's not much, but it's something. I felt compelled to share in hopes it would motivate me to write some more. This is all I've got so far, and it is admittedly very rough, but it's getting there.

Here’s the thing: healing isn't linear.

These are words repeated over and over again by those who you wouldn't think ever even had to heal. They're the kind of words that would lose its meaning the more they're said, and have you start wondering if to some people, they ever had any sort of meaning to begin with.

You can never really tell where it starts or where it finishes, or how it happened or if it ever did happen, the same way the flawed five stages of grief could never explain the true act of mourning and the same way your every emotion defies anything your logic could ever tell you.

Sometimes, Stephen finds, some things are just unexplainable like that.

Sometimes, Stephen doesn't think he's capable of healing. Sometimes, especially in nights where every bit of his sanity starts to fall apart and each choking breath would sting as it enters his damned lungs, he thinks he's too far gone to be capable of it at all.

(Sometimes he would sit silently and stare into nothing, thinking about the way nobody would understand that at some point in his life, he wasn't the man he used to be anymore. Sometimes he could feel it, the thing that consumed him, that took away who he was, and the way it would take up every space in his ribcage and burn his insides like acid, the way it would rip apart the space in his chest where his heart used to be. Sometimes he would think about it, and the way that it makes him nothing but an empty shell of a man. Every day that thing would grow inside of him and one day, it might ruin him; as if he isn't already far too broken to begin with.)

But it's here, in the roof of a sentient building he's grown to call his home where various pots are neatly arranged in small shelves, with his trembling fingers digging into rich soil and dirt sticking underneath his fingernails, that he starts to find proof that maybe, he had the capability after all.

It's here that he understands why humans would pick up a trowel and spend so much time getting on their hands and knees to dirty themselves with grimes of dirt.

There's something about the green of the Earth and the smell of her moist dirt in the early mornings, damp from the moon's tears, that soothes a part of him that he couldn't quite identify. There's something comforting about the mindless action of digging and burying and placing and watering. There's something comforting about knowing that his damaged fingers could sprout life even if it all depended on time.

But that's the thing, isn't it? Everything is just a matter of time.

(Sometimes he wishes healing isn't linear, the way he wishes time doesn't march on an ascending line.)

He remembers the same damp smell of moss and the same smudges of dirt on the knees of his trousers back then, the first time he was taught about gardening and farming and sprouting life from seeds.

He had still been a small boy in Nebraska, back then. He had been young, and he had never understood patience the way he does now. He didn't understand that what he planted was something that, if anything, was considered a miracle, and that miracles took time, and that miracles don't last forever. He didn't understand that life and decay is just a matter of time, and that everything including himself would eventually be nothing but rotting flesh and cracked bones, becoming one with the earth and consumed by the maggots and mushrooms.

Because that's the thing: everything is just a matter of time.

The experience had meant nothing to him then, and had taught him nothing much of anything at all, but it means something to him now.

#my writing #wip #ramblings

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writeblrfantasy · 1 year

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around six years ago, i started writing seriously for the first time. it was fanfiction. (glee fanfiction if you're curious.) i wouldn't write something original for the first time for another year.

i loved writing fanfiction--i put my whole unashamed heart into it, i didn't even think about whether it was good or not, because i was having a blast. i wrote for many different fandoms, i wrote one (short) fanfic a day during december based on one word prompts, and i would send them to my friend each night--a routine which got me through a very hard week of my life. i wrote buckets and buckets of fanfiction.

and then, i'm not sure when and why that changed--i read and still do read something on ao3 almost every night for dozens and dozens of fandoms, after all. but the more i wrote original books, i stopped writing fanfiction, and over the years, writing fanfiction seemed like an impossible task.

i tried a few times, i wrote a customized fic for my bestie's birthday, but i could never get far usually. it felt alien and intrusive to try and write someone else's characters. it would always end in shame and this feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong.

i don't have any of those early fanfictions from six years ago because i deleted them, convinced they were hot garbage (and they were, but i still would've liked to have them!)

i continued to write originally, still reading fanfiction almost every night and participating in fandom in other ways. and then in late 2021, i wrote and finished a good fic as a herculean labor of love. in spring of 22, it took me an incredible effort, but i took one of my old surviving fanfics and edited it to new standards, and then encouraged by my victory, i wrote 2 more fics and started a bunch of others.

i made an ao3 account and posted these all, and was encouraged like never before by the comments i received, the love i had never received because i'd never posted my fanfics before. slowly, the shame wore off. i could write fanfiction again. it became something i could do while sitting on my phone in a waiting room having an anxiety attack, something to do before i went to bed, something i could do when a fic i wanted didn't exist--i could finally just write it!

and now, we come to this year. in 23 so far, i've written and posted 11 fanfics adding up to 100,805 words in total, in two fandoms, with several fanfic wips in the works. two weeks ago i wrote, without meaning to, 7k of a fic in one day to finish it, a week after finishing the source material. i'm still hesitant to share snippets of fics with friends not in those fandoms, but i did in this case and was told by a friend that it was some of my best writing ever--original and fanfic combined. period.

in january when i watched my favorite movie too many times to get anything more out of it, i turned to fanfiction, where i had a fic i mentioned was inspired by my favorite fic in the tiny ass fandom, which the creator then saw and was flattered by, and continued to read all my fics in that fandom!

this would turn into a 7 part series which i would post once a week, whipping up 5k minimum fics in a matter of days. i was shameless. i was carefree. i was living for the familiar usernames in my comments, and the serotonin of pushing that "new post" button. i was having fun.

in moments where i would wonder if the fic i was writing was cringe, if anyone would like it if i posted it, i reminded myself that i read fic every night. fic is often the first place i turn after finishing a source material, and what i look forward to while consuming that material. if everyone who thought like me about their fics didn't post, i would be without fanfics to get me through my fandom experience, and i would hate that. so i kept writing and posting.

now: my relationship with writing fanfiction has never been healthier. i am better than where i was at six years ago, because my overall writing skills have improved about 1000%, and because i'm posting now. writing fanfiction now often provides me a break from the stress and complexity of writing original novels, and it's a lovely wind down bedtime activity.

so, i suppose if there's a takeaway from this post, it's that fan content creators, no matter what you create, and no matter how small the fandom you're creating for, even if you're the first work in your fandom, keep creating. what you're doing is real and worthy and just as important as original content, and keeps the heart of fandom alive. i am so happy i repaired my relationship with writing fanfic, and it's made me happier this year than i thought possible, due in large part to the incredible commenting communities in fandom. i wish the same for all of you <3

#fanfiction #fanfic #a love letter to fanfiction #writing #writeblr #writers #this got much ramblier and longer than i intended but i'm glad i made this post #been ruminating in my brain for a long time :)#other writers encouraged to rb with their experiences!

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shootingstarpilot · 7 months

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Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @merlyn-bane!

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

Eight!

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

217,911

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

*sobbing* Star Wars, my beloved. The brainrot is real; I am consumed. When I was still on FF.net, though, I had stuff up in Harry Potter and How to Train Your Dragon.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

back then, i was dauntless

how to bring him home

if i don't make it back (from where i've gone)

though some would harm you

like lightning changing hands

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

I absolutely do! I feel bad because I know I've gotten some lovely comments on chapters that aren't the most recent one, and those tend to get lost in the inbox, but I promise I'm working on it- if you get a response from a comment you left a year and a half ago, don't hold it against me 😅

I do it because I want so badly to build community here! I love getting comments from people, responding to something with a wee hint of a tease because I'm AWFUL and then getting a keysmash of a response and then exchanging snippets in the comments, truly, it fills me with delight- and I've met some absolutely wonderful people who I got introduced to by responding to comments-

Anyway. Community. That.

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

Oh. Hm. Hm.

I... guess it would have to be though some would harm you? Although I'm not sure if I feel confident in that designation, because it's very much part of a multi-work series. And I'm too much of a sucker for happy endings to write a stand-alone fic that doesn't have one, I think.

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

Oh, neural plasticity, for sure! Short and sweet <3

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

A bit. I can brush off the "actually the Jedi were the real monsters" assholes easily enough, but honestly, the comments that hit the hardest are the ones that clearly come from people who think they're offering ✨constructive criticism.✨ Not only because I didn't ask for it, but also because saying my work is "fatiguing" or "I'm sure there's a decent story here, but it's being buried under what you're trying to do with it-" there's nothing constructive there.

Side note: the person who left that last comment deleted it about half an hour later, because when I went to reply, it had vanished from my inbox. I don't know if they did that because they didn't want me to be able to reply, or if they realized that what they said was unhelpful and mean, but if they ever happen to see this-

I still got the email, prick.

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

Write? No, I haven't quite worked up the panache to try. Reading, on the other hand...

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

I do have snippets of one crossover that I actually posted in an anonymous collection, ha- an old BBC Merlin/ Good Omens/ Supernatural fic that I dug out of my old documents. Other than that, no- unless you count the Prequels and the Clone Wars as different enough to qualify as a crossover.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I know of- very much open to it, though!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Since I don't think taking drabbles in tumblr chats to ridiculous lengths counts, I'd have to say no- I'd like to, though!

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Codywan. Fiercely, unwaveringly Codywan.

Just to reinforce this- 292 of my bookmarks consist of Cody/Obi-Wan. The next most common romantic pairing (Aziraphale/Crowley) has less than half that, at 121.

I'm a goner, and I can't even bring myself to regret it.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

OKAY SO I've written snippets of a modern AU focusing on Helix, Needle and Stitch, and I'm totally gonna take this opportunity to rage about it. I'm probably never gonna finish it, but it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, so, hey- what else is fic for, really, if not for indulging yourself?

At first, it's just Needle and Stitch. It's just been the two of them, for as long as Stitch can remember. Needle's only a few years older than him, but he's raised him, kept him in school, kept a roof over their heads and food on the table-

Food on Stitch's plate, at least.

Then, one night, Needle does not come home.

A hit-and-run, the nurse tells him, although the words will not trickle through until much later. A coma.

He will not, they say patiently, come home for some time.

(There is so much that needs doing.)

Helix, meanwhile, is studying physical therapy at the local community college and working part-time at his brother Ace's bakery.

It's during one of these shifts that a skinny little twerp comes in and hands him a job application.

(Rent and bills and Needle Needle Needle-)

It doesn't take Helix long to realize something is... off.

Ace tells him not to push it, but-

The kid's a good worker. Great, as a matter of fact. He's never late. Stays past closing, too, if they've had a rush. He tells Helix about his brother and nothing else.

(His brother hasn't come to visit.)

Everything that's not sold at the end of the day gets packaged up and given out. They only toss in the dumpster what's really, truly inedible- stuff that got dropped in the kitchen, scraps left over from customers-

He thinks it's raccoons, at first, until he peers in and sees Stitch flatten himself against a heap of bags in the corner.

They package up leftovers for him, after that. A bit more than leftovers, maybe. Ace sets aside sandwiches. Helix buys him a thermos and tells him it's been in the lost and found for over a year. They make sure he eats.

(Needle's getting transferred out of the ICU.)

Stitch is trying. He's doing everything he can, and more besides. But Needle's life is too expensive and he's buckling under the weight.

(He hasn't even grieved. Not really. No room. No time.)

Eventually, something has to give.

He does.

(He hadn't expected someone to be there to catch him.)

Featuring:

Helix stumbling into adopting first one, then two idiot kids

Ace being a supportive brother

Needle finding his way home

Mace Windu as Needle's (unfairly attractive, Helix thinks) neurologist

Obi-Wan as a hospital social worker who gets assigned Needle's file

Cody as Obi-Wan's husband, Helix's cousin, and children's book author (Stitch's favorite)

(listen I am WEAK for author!Cody, truly)

(Helix was totally the one who got them together and he regrets it every day of his life.)

Sheev Palpatine as the epitome of the evil of the American healthcare system

The Melidaan crew running a long-term, non-profit care facility that offers both in-patient and out-patient rehab services

16.) What are your writing strengths?

(I'VE PUT TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS. SHIT.)

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I am, apparently, really good at writing breakdowns. >:3

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

Dialogue does not come easily to me. I have to work a bit to hit my stride. But I think it turns out well enough!

Hm. Coming from a purely technical perspective here, I think the reader should be able to understand everything that's spoken in a fic. If a character says something in another language, then I think the best way to convey that is, "X muttered something Y didn't catch," or, if the listener recognizes that it's at least in another language, "X muttered something in French."

If the reader should understand it, then something along the lines of: "'I knew we shouldn't have trusted him,' X muttered in French."

If the POV character doesn't understand the language, it doesn't make sense to provide the reader with a perfect transliteration of what the other character is saying. The character wouldn't have that knowledge. It can really take me out of the fic when two characters suddenly start conversing in written-out sentences in another language, and I have to scroll all the way down to the footnotes for translations.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

But then again, that's just my opinion- I'm sure others have their own thoughts on this!

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Harry Potter.

Hell, I have to say like lightning changing hands, if only because whatever fic I'm writing at the moment is my favorite. It's the act of creation that does it for me!

(Also because it's such a good opportunity to explore so many relationship dynamics.)

No-pressure tags for @jedi-enthusiast, @themonopolyhat, @shadow-pixelle, and @foreverchangingfandomsao3!

#shoulder the sky #me: let's summarize this lil nebulous au for sharing! :D #also me ten minutes later: shit. it's grown legs.#personal #my writing

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