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#also oh my god that fanfic I found was SO BAD
tendebill · 8 months
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chapter 14 has almost 8k words so far. i have a plan for it. i intend to try and finish it and edit it until the end of this week. wish me luck :3
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scuopsie · 1 year
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nah fanfic writers mess up phase/faze all the time so if that's a big part of where you read it that's definitely not on you haha
Yea….
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hollybell51 · 1 year
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Don't bet on it
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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader
Supernatural (2005)
Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)
Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.
Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.
Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.
Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…
“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?” 
There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful. 
“(Y/N)?” 
Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine. 
“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?” 
Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?” 
“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added. 
“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.” 
He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.” 
You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression. 
“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly. 
“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once. 
“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink. 
Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily. 
You smiled. “Lemonade.” 
He nodded slowly.
“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently. 
He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter. 
“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly. 
“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.” 
Despite yourself, you laughed. 
Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face. 
You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.” 
“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip. 
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.” 
“Thankyou,” he said after a moment. 
“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left. 
You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them? 
“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.” 
Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it. 
Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off. 
“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you. 
“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?” 
“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing. 
You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing. 
But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone. 
“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows. 
“Sam said this was a double,” you told him. 
“It is.” 
“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.” 
“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.” 
“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright” 
The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking. 
You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you. 
“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.” 
“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?” 
“No, we’ve got two singles.” 
“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.” 
“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.” 
“I know, but–” 
“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.” 
“What’s that supposed to–” 
He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.” 
You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed. 
By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?” 
“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.” 
Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant. 
You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now. 
“Would you like some help?” 
You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you. 
He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.” 
“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.” 
“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched. 
Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault. 
He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab. 
“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly. 
“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.” 
Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 
“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.” 
“Should I keep going?” 
You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. 
“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad. 
“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead. 
He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.” 
“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”
Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.” 
You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you. 
“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?” 
He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer. 
His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).” 
Oh. Oh. There it was.
He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to. 
Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his. 
He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade. 
It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound. 
It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright. 
You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it. 
“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.” 
“Hm?”
You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses. 
“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing. 
He looked up, frowning. “What?” 
“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.” 
He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes. 
“Is this alright?” he asked. 
You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside. 
“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive. 
You nodded. “Are you?”  
He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters. 
Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused. 
“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips. 
“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.
“Hm?” 
“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering. 
“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.” 
He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…” 
Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed. 
You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.” 
“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.” 
“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away. 
“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?” 
He nodded. 
You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?” 
“Please,” he murmured. 
You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him? 
Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him. 
Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment. 
“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. 
“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.” 
You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?” 
At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked. 
You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.” 
He stared. “Do you want to?” 
You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath… 
Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.
His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?” 
Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.” 
A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you. 
“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life. 
Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?” 
You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”
“Touch me?” 
“Mhm.”  
He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.
“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that. 
You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful. 
It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.
“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake. 
“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.” 
You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning. 
His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before. 
He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to. 
“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that. 
“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out. 
You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…” 
“But?”
“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled. 
His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.” 
“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes. 
“Mhm?” 
“Are you sure?” 
“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?” 
“Yeah, alright.” 
“Alright?” 
He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.” 
You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip. 
Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat. 
“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps. 
“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?” 
You smiled. “Magic word?” 
“Please,” he practically growled. 
Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute. 
“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–” 
“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.  
“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.” 
The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure. 
“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade. 
You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely. 
“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).” 
“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair. 
“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.” 
For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless. 
He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.” 
You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright. 
Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face. 
As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting. 
Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up. 
“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?” 
“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”
“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?” 
He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.” 
Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.” 
“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?
You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning. 
He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on. 
Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath. 
“Is this alright?” he asked. 
You nodded. “Mhm.” 
“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body. 
“Mhm.” 
“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most. 
“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.” 
“I want you to feel–” 
You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?” 
“But I’m–” 
“Cas.” 
He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch. 
“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”
He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you. 
“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.” 
This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy. 
“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit. 
Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves. 
“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked. 
“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face. 
“Yes, Cas, just like that.” 
He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily. 
“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.” 
“Is this alright?” he asked mildly. 
“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good? 
“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully. 
“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps. 
“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?” 
“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing. 
He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said. 
It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.
And God, you wanted him to fuck you. 
“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine. 
Cas froze immediately. 
“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.” 
“Is this not–” 
“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs. 
Cas frowned.
“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small. 
His eyebrows shot halfway up his face. 
“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.” 
Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.” 
“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged. 
He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable. 
“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.” 
“I don’t want to squash you.” 
You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.” 
“How do you know?” 
“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.” 
He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?” 
You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out. 
“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.” 
“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed. 
You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.
You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock. 
“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours. 
“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?” 
He swallowed, his eyes dark. 
“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.” 
He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked. 
You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.” 
Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide. 
“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?” 
“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time. 
“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?” 
He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name. 
He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.  
“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that. 
Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut. 
“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs. 
“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!” 
You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra. 
He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer. 
You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm. 
“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment. 
“Hm?” 
“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.” 
“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.” 
You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be. 
You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch. 
You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat. 
When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed. 
He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked. 
“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”
Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?” 
After a moment, he nodded. 
It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again. 
“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.” 
Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?” 
“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty. 
You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.” 
“Should I not have?”
“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.” 
“You don’t?”
You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him. 
“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much. 
You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”
You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.
“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile. 
“Hello.” 
You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”
He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).” 
“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”
“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.” 
You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” 
“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.” 
“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.” 
“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully. 
You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…” 
He waited, watching you stumble over your words. 
“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely. 
“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.” 
You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang. 
“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen. 
“What do you want?” you growled. 
“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?” 
“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.” 
He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?” 
You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked. 
He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden. 
“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam. 
“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt. 
“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.” 
“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”  
“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.” 
“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question. 
You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”
Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier. 
“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point. 
“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!” 
You froze, fork halfway to your mouth. 
“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing. 
Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.” 
“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam? 
“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck. 
Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.” 
“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. 
He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?” 
Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything. 
“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.” 
“No, it wasn’t the waitress.” 
Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.” 
“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared. 
“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.” 
Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.” 
“No? Who else?” 
Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now. 
Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.  
“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.” 
It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all. 
“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas. 
“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.” 
“No, I mean–” 
You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.” 
“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?” 
“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug. 
Cas frowned. “Told him what?” 
“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!” 
Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.” 
“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?” 
“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas. 
You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.” 
“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.” 
You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?” 
“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.” 
“Mhm, back at Stanford–” 
“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.” 
Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.” 
“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.” 
“Me too,” Cas added solemnly. 
You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back. 
“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.” 
Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”
3K notes · View notes
juqtier · 3 months
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☆◞: IM ALWAYS JUST A DOOR AWAY ✧ SPENCER REID
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SPENCER REID X FEM READER
SUMMARY: when you moved in to your new apartment, you never imagined your neighbor, spencer reid, would be such a nightmare. he wasn’t your favorite guy. in fact, you hated him. unfortunately for you, you can never seem to escape him. the universe clearly has other plans for you two.
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption in some chapters, angsty, arguing, spencer is kind of (definitely) an asshole, kissing, cursing, somewhat darker plot points as story progresses (this is my first ever full story fanfic! so it might be bad…) this will also be 10 parts so yayyy
GENRE: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst
⋆·˚ ༘ *
chapter 1 : a nightmare..
✎Was it even possible to hate someone so much that even the thought of them made your blood boil?
You never thought that was even possible. You were always trying to see the best in people, even if they were rude to you. That all changed when you moved next door to Spencer Reid.
Spencer Reid
The bane of your existence.
You had moved into your first apartment alone, with the help of your parents loaning some money and your waitressing job, when you had the unpleasant experience of meeting him.
God, he was so stuck up and pretentious. Getting to know him might have been your biggest regret.
The first day you met him, he immediately gave you an attitude.
You weren’t all that familiar with this area, so you took it upon yourself to try and make friends with the neighbors.
As you walk up to the door and knock, you become excited at the potential of a new friendship.
Behind the door, you can hear a quiet, muffled voice and some shuffling before it’s opened to reveal a rather tall man looking down at you.
“Yes?” He sounded a bit annoyed, yet you continued your introduction.
“Hi, I’m your new neighbor! My name is-“
“Cool, I’m really busy, and if it isn’t important, don’t bother me.” The man quickly shuts the door.
You were so puzzled and quite upset.
Who just shuts the door on someone’s face like that?
-‘๑’-
However, after some time, you forgave it. Everyone has bad days; everyone is very busy at some point. Maybe he was just overwhelmed, right?
That was until you saw him again, in the parking lot of the apartments.
You found out his name was Spencer Reid from some other neighbors. This only made you more interested in getting to know him, or at least being civil with each other.
You were getting out of your car after returning home from work when you saw him coming down the stairs to the parking lot. Trying to be friendly, you waved and smiled.
“Hello!” Your expression was bright and kind, as always. Something Spencer never seemed to return. He visibly rolled his eyes at you, rushing to his car.
Did I do something wrong? Did I say something to offend him? Do I have something stuck in my teeth
Your thoughts ran wild, doubting every interaction you have had with anyone before. Were you just annoying? You barely had a conversation with the man; how could he find you annoying?
Maybe he just sucked?
-‘๑’-
For months, your interactions were the same. You’d attempt to be friendly, and he’d quickly (and quite rudely) shut you down. You had convinced yourself he was just a busy man until you were proven right. He just sucked.
Friday, 10:49 pm
Music played throughout your living room as you unwinded on your couch. The weekend had just begun, so you decided to finally relax. Work had been extra shitty today, and you felt you deserved a break. You sat on your couch, reading a book, as your favorite songs played when you heard a knock at the door.
Who could be knocking so late?
Placing your book down and quickly turning the music off, you rush to answer the door.
As it opened, you'd never been more confused to see Spencer Reid standing in front of you.
“Uh, hi? Is something wro-”
“Can you turn the music down?” He seemingly snaps, not even letting you finish your sentence.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to have it so lo-”
“If you’re going to blare your music, you shouldn’t have such terrible taste.”
You were taken aback. You were used to the interruptions, the eye rolling, even being completely ignored. But now, he was just being plain rude.
“What? I said I’m sorry.. What’s your problem?”
You were almost about to snap at him. It took all of your power to not rip into him, calling him every name you could think of.
“My problem? My problem is that ever since you moved here, I can’t get even a moment of peace. Some people have jobs and commitments.”
What the actual fuck?
“Holy shit, Spencer. I’ve done nothing to you, but all you’ve done is be an asshole to me!”
Your anger and frustration seemed to boil over in that exact moment, not caring if you hurt his feelings anymore.
“Actu-”
“No, let me talk for once. I don’t know where you work or what you do to make you think you are so morally superior to me, but fuck. You are so fucking mean.“
He seemed shocked at the sudden outburst, as you only ever showed him your bright and bubbly side. His eyes widened slightly, not expecting the blow-up.
“You don’t get to talk down to me because you’re in a pissy mood. So leave me the fuck alone.”
With that, you slam your door in his face and quickly turn around. Your fists clench as you storm to your room and flop onto your bed, letting out a groan of frustration.
God, he was a nightmare.
-‘๑’-
PT 2
a.n : sorry if this sucks or is boring! i’ve never wrote a story like this before but i hope it’s okay!
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inflorescnce · 3 months
Text
"They have nothing on you."
pairing : Luke Castellan x daughter of hypnos! Reader setting and time : Camp Half-blood, june 2006
warnings/content : fluff summary: in which luke only has eyes for you. word count : 2,374
authors note : This is my first time actually writing a fanfic, so this may just be very bad. My writing style also may be all over the place, I just haven't found one I like yet 😿
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“Why aren’t you dressed?”
You looked up to where the voice was coming from, only to be met with the face of your best friend, Alyssa. She was wearing a really cute sparkly dress, one that fit her perfectly.
“Don’t want to go,” you shrugged, your voice the same sleepy tone as it always was. But that comes with being the daughter of the god of sleep. Alyssa rolled her eyes before grabbing your arm and dragging you out of bed.
“Absolutely not; you are getting dressed, and we are going to that party.”
Before you could protest, you were already in the Athena cabin. “It’s not everyday we get to have a party here, and you want to spend it sleeping? sometimes I really dont get you.”
Alyssa was going through her closet, presumedly trying to find a dress for you to wear.
“It’s not my fault my dad is the actual god of sleep.” You groan. “And why should I even go to this party? I’m not a party person at all. You know that.”
“Because,” Alyssa turned to look at me. “He will be there”
“As if that means something, you really think out of all the girls he could pick at camp, he would pick me?”
“Well you’ll never know if you dont go” Alyssa finally seemed to have found something, and she turned to me once again. “put this on,” She was holding a dark grey mini dress.
You knew there was no use in arguing with her, if you said no she would probably put it on you herself. Reluctantly, you got up and changed. The dress fit a like glove, it was at times like this being the same size as your best friend was a livesaver. Alyssa gave a small clap when you went to show her how you looked in the dress and after that she spent almost 30 minutes doing your hair and make-up.
“You look so beautiful” Alyssa hugged you from behind, using the mirror to look at you “Luke would be an idiot if he didn’t think so too”
The amphitheatre transformed it to the perfect party spot, with tables full of drinks and foods and speakers blasting Rihanna and Eminem. You and Alyssa were sitting on the stone benches a few steps up, talking to a few apollo kids. You tried to listen to what they were talking about but you just couldn’t, not when he was there.
Standing in the middle of the dance floor was Luke Castellan, son of hermes. You’ve had a crush on him for almost three years now. But you’ve never told him about it, which was getting harder everyday as you had to see him every morning walking around the hermes cabin shirtless in search for his camp shirt that he had once again lost. Being the child of a minor god meant that you didnt have your own cabin, so you stayed in the hermes cabin with all the other minor god children. You had no complaints though, being able to see Luke come out of the bathrooms with wet hair, wearing only a towel was an absolute blessing. You were snapped out of your trance by Dahlia, your other best friend.
“oh my god ‘lyssa actually did it, you’re here” she faked a surprised voice before letting out a laugh “want to get a drink?”
You nodded before standing up, you wanted to aks Alyssa to come with you, but she was to busy talking to one of the apollo boys, so you just let her be.
You and Dahlia chatted about nothing and everything while walking to the drinks table.
“Have you seen clarisse’s dress?” Dahlia said while stuffing her mouth full with chips. She didn’t wait for you to awnser “I’m going to talk to her” and again without waiting for you to awnser, she walks away.
“Atleast someone has balls” You mutter under your breath. “Now what to drink?”
“I’d go for the grape juice, closest thing to wine we’ll get” A voice from behind starteld you.
You turned around to that Luke was standing behind you.
Your heart fluttered and the breath caught in your throat, leaving you momentarily gasping for air. The fairy lights above highlighted Luke's mischievous smile, his eyes twinkling with a carefree joy that only someone like Hermes' son could have. His suggestion about grape juice brought a wave of laughter that released the tension you didn't know you were holding.
"Definitely," you replied, managing to keep your voice steady. "You can never go wrong with the classics, right?" You filled two cups with the juice and offered one to Luke. He accepted it with a nod, his fingers briefly brushing against yours.
The music changed then, transitioning from fast-paced Rihanna and Eminem songs to a slower, more enchanting tune that seemed to wrap around each person like silk threads, pulling them towards the dance floor. Couples began pairing off, swaying in a rhythm that was both timeless and new.
"Would you like to dance?" Luke asked formally, extending his hand towards you.
You were taken aback by the unexpected offer. It felt surreal, as if you had stepped into one of those dream sequences where everything fell perfectly into place according to your deepest desires. But this was real; it was Luke standing before you, waiting for your response. For a moment, you hesitated, the years of hiding your feelings for him weighing heavily on your decision. Then, without thinking, you placed your hand in his and felt a spark ignite within you that threatened to consume your entire being.
Following Luke's lead, you stepped onto the dance floor and felt your heart pounding against your chest. As the music swelled around you, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a sea of soft light and shadows. Luke moved with confidence but also with a gentle touch, as if he knew the power of every step they took together.
Your hands found their place on his shoulders, radiating warmth from the summer heat, while his settled lightly on your waist. The closeness between you sent waves of warmth throughout your body, reminiscent of evenings spent around bonfires and secrets whispered under starry skies.
The way Luke looked at you - with a sense of truly seeing you for the first time - melted away any uncertainty that had been building up over time. In his gaze, you were no longer just another pretty face among all the others at camp; you were the sole focus of his attention.
Your breath caught as he leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear. "You know," he murmured amidst the music, his voice rumbling softly, "I've always thought you were the best dancer out here."
A shy laugh escaped your lips. "Me? You must have me confused with one of the Apollo kids. They practically have rhythm flowing through their veins."
"Nah," Luke replied with a grin, spinning you effortlessly before pulling you back into his arms. "They have nothing on you."
In that moment, the world seemed to pause and catch its breath. His words were a ray of sunlight, piercing through the dense foliage of doubts and fears. A blush spread across your cheeks, feeling as though an artist had painted them with shades of warmth.
"Come on," you playfully retorted, trying to maintain composure despite the fluttering in your chest. "You must have been struck by Cupid's arrow to be saying such sweet things."
"Maybe I was," Luke shot back, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Or maybe I've just found the courage to speak what's been on my mind for some time now."
"And what's that?" You couldn't help but ask, curiosity mingling with hope like vines creeping up an old stone wall.
Luke's smile softened and he leaned back slightly, relishing in the intensity of your gaze that made the background noise of the party fade away. His voice lowered to a whisper, filled with a sincerity that sent shivers down your spine.
"That you, my dear dance partner," he began, "are the most captivating person I've ever met. Not because of how you move on the dance floor or how your laughter brings joy to those around you. But because when I look at you—I see home."
A surge of emotions washed over you, like a warm blanket on a cold night. It felt as though every secret glance and unspoken conversation had led to this one moment in time.
"Luke, I—"
As you spoke, he placed a gentle finger on your lips, silencing you but igniting a deeper conversation through his touch. "Shh," he whispered with a playful yet sincere tone. "No need for words right now. Let's just…dance."
And so you did.
The music enveloped you like a vine as you danced together, the world shrinking until it was just the two of you amidst a sea of beating hearts and rhythmic feet. The lights above cast a warm glow on your union, creating an intimate atmosphere. You moved to the rhythm of an ancient dance, swaying as if on gently swelling ocean waves.
His eyes never left yours, reflecting the twinkling stars in the night sky. In this dance, all your hesitations vanished and were replaced by newfound courage. Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, anchoring yourself to the moment.
Eventually, the song ended and the crowd erupted into applause for the band's final bow. But their noise was nothing compared to the symphony that played in your hearts.
He smiled mischievously at you, sparks of adventure lighting up his features. "Come with me," he said, barely audible over the cheers and clapping.
Without waiting for your response, Luke took your hand and led you through the crowd of dancers and out into the tranquil night. The cool air brushed against your skin, contrasting with the warmth still lingering from his touch. You followed him eagerly, barely touching the pebbled path as anticipation fluttered within you like a captured butterfly.
The moon hung like a silver coin in the sky, casting its ethereal glow on everything below. The world was transformed, familiar objects taking on a magical quality – trees becoming silhouettes guarding secrets and the lake turning into a pool of liquid silver.
Reaching the edge of the lake, Luke didn't pause. He took off his shoes and rolled up his pants before looking at you expectantly. Without speaking, you did the same, feeling the cool grass under your feet and then the shock of cold as your toes touched the water.
In unspoken agreement, you walked hand in hand into the lake, its surface parting around your ankles and sending ripples through the water. The sound of pebbles tumbling underfoot created a symphony just for the two of you. As you moved deeper into the lake's embrace, it hummed around your knees, beckoning you to dance.
Luke's hand was warm and steady in yours as you both paused to take in the beauty of the world from within the heart of the lake. It was a breathtaking sight - the moonlight shimmering on the water, starlight seemingly captured beneath the surface. Your reflections were side by side, two souls intertwined in a nightly masterpiece.
Turning towards you, Luke's eyes mirrored the galaxy above, full of mysteries and silent promises. Your breaths mingled with the misty air as he stepped closer, closing the gap between you until there were only inches separating your bodies. In his gaze was an unspoken question, an invitation to a place where time couldn't touch you.
The answer was already clear to you, like a flower blooming in your heart. You felt a magnetic pull towards Luke, one that seemed to defy the laws of gravity and connect you two in a way that redefined nature.
You met him halfway, your previous shyness melting away in his presence. His hands fit perfectly on your waist, as if they were meant to be there since the beginning of time. The world faded into the background, leaving only this moment between the two of you.
Your heart beat with an intensity matching the crashing waves against the shore. As Luke's eyes locked with yours, you saw all of your feelings reflected back at you—a depth that could never be captured by words alone.
As the air stirred and the light shimmered, every breath between your lips seemed to dance in anticipation. And when he turned his face towards yours, it was as though the stars had aligned to bring you together, destined for this moment.
At first, the kiss was tender, like a feather's touch or the gentle caress of moonlight on earth. But as your lips moved in unison, tenderness gave way to a surge of passion that pulsed through your body. Your urgent response matched his own, your bodies pressing together as if trying to meld into one being under the glow of the moon above.
In the stillness of the night, time paused, allowing the world to witness the union of two hearts. The cool water around your knees could not quell the fire ignited by Luke's kiss. It was a kiss that fulfilled longings, broke barriers and crumbled walls in a silent surrender.
You gently placed your hands on his cheeks, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your thumbs. A smile spread across your lips as you felt him return the gesture. Slowly, reluctantly, you both pulled away and rested your foreheads against each other, trying to catch your breath. Each exhale was a shudder of pleasure; each inhale was a silent vow.
The stillness surrounding you was profound, broken only by the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the distant sounds of celebration fading into the night. In Luke's embrace, with the cool water caressing your skin and the moonlight highlighting his features, it became clear that this was more than just a temporary escape or a fleeting entertainment. This moment—it was an awakening.
"Look at us," Luke whispered softly into the night air, "dancing under the moon in a lake like something out of a romantic fairy tale."
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csl0ml · 3 months
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So needy… part 2
Chris x femreader!
Pt 1
HOLY MOLY 🤯
for my first fanfic yall really liked that. Thank you 🙏
Warnings‼️
smut, smut, smut 😍
pink: you
orange: chris
(Not proofread again bc I wrote this at like 1 am 😍)
Enjoy!!!!
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“Want me to fuck you now?”
I already know his answer but I asked him anyways.
“Please ma”
“Good.” I get on his lap and start kissing him. Chris starts making his way to my neck, then the bottom of my neck, then to my chest.
He grabs my bra and takes it off. He throws it somewhere in the room and starts sucking of my left boob.
I let out a moan as he grips my right boob. He lets it go with a pop. He moves to my right boob and starts sucking.
I slide my hands under his shirt and start massaging his chest. I tug on the bottom of the hem the shirt singling that I want it off.
Chris let’s go of my boob and takes his shirt off.
“Chris hurry up and just put it in.”
“Put what in?” He asks me with a smirk forming on his face.
I hate when he does this. He makes me tell him what I want when he damn knows what I want.
“Will you please put your cock in my pussy?” I ask him with a straight face.
“Of course ma. So needy.”
I scrunch my nose and look at him with a smirk. “Oh yeah? I’m not the one who was crying because of how bad they needed to cum was I?”
Chris just rolls his eyes and quietly giggles. He grabs my hips and lifts them up allowing his dick to be right under my throbbing pussy.
I grab his dick and align it with my dripping hole. I slowly slide it in as Chris lets go of my hips and lets them drop which leads to me letting out a loud moan.
“Oh my god Chris”
Chris starts thrusting up into me. Once I finally get used to him I push his hips down and I start bouncing on his cock.
Chris absolutely loves it when I take the lead. All he does is put his hands on my hips and lets his head fall back.
“Oh my god baby you feel so good”
I can feel me start to reach my orgasm.
“Chris I’m close” I moan out his name
“Me too baby, me too”
I bounce down and reach my orgasm. As I ride out my high I feel Chris reach his orgasm. Once we’re both calm from our orgasms I fall into Chris’s chest.
“You did so good baby”
I just hum in response since I’m so tired.
“Want me to run you a bath?”
“Please.” I look up at Chris and just find him staring at me. He smiles at me. I give him a small smile back.
He gently pushes me off of him so he can go to the bathroom.
He goes to the closet grabs himself some boxers and grabs me a bra and panties.
He also grabs our pjs for after the bath.
“Come on baby let’s get you cleaned up”
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a/n : sorry that was short but my friends found my acc so I felt weird writing more smut 🤷‍♀️. I have another idea for another story but I’m still deciding if it’s gonna be Matt or Chris. Also tysm for all the support on part 1. I’m really glad yall enjoyed it and for my first fanfic yall thought it was good. I’ll be working on the other story so it might take a little while
Anyways thank you again! 🤍
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pasdasin · 6 months
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Ktober day one - Size kink - Loki x reader
a/n: welcome to kinktober! enjoy ur month of fanfics lol this is made in collab with my two of my irls @fuckmachine42069 and @honeybeedrabble! sorry if this is bad lol
cw: pnv sex, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), cussing, slight degradation, prob more
reader under the cut ------
Loki never felt truly loved until he met you. You knew him, witnessed his destruction, and still decided to give him a chance. He never knew that he could feel like this. Especially when you decided to take him to a remote cabin in the mountains, just the two of you. Just as friends. 
God he hated that you just saw him as a friend. He means that friends don’t just share their darkest secrets, they don’t occasionally flirt, and they don’t get drunk and make out- but that was just a drunken mistake, right?
The snow fell outside the cabin the two of you shared a glass of wine you stole from Tony’s collection. He watched as you giggled at the silly card game the two of you were playing. 
“OH! This is a good one” you looked up at Loki from across the couch.
“Oh?”
“Yeah… is there one physical trait you haven’t shown anyone?” Loki was taken aback by the question. Were the two of you close enough for him to show you his true self? The two of you did make out a lot, flirt, but emotionally? Were you more than friends? Could he truly trust you? Fuck it.
“I believe there is one thing…” Your eyes lit up with excitement at this revatation. “Before I show you, I need to know I can trust you.” His eyes scanned your face, praying to whoever would listen that you would say the words that he needed to hear. 
“Of course you can trust me Loki.”
“No that’s not what I mean. I need you to be honest with me…”
“What are you asking me?” Your heart was pounding in your chest. 
“Are you in love with me the way I am in love with you” Silence filled the air. Loki turned his back and sighed in defeat . It was so stupid of him to think you’d be in love with him. You two weren’t more than friends who kiss. He felt his arm be pulled by you, causing him to turn  to face you. 
“I…I’m in love with you Loki” He leaned down and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was passionate and full of the mixed emotions the two of you felt towards each other. The kiss grew more heated and the two of you moved back onto the couch. He pulled away from you, straddling your hips and effectively trapping you. 
“Once I show you this. you have to be mine. remain mine.” You only nodded your head and watched in amazement as he transformed before you. His once pale skin turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was icy and cool. His eyes turned a shade of deep, blood red. His height greatly increased as well. Your eyes scanned his body, absorbing all of the new side of loki. 
“Well?” He asked nervously. Your jaw dropped slightly and he slowly felt himself getting amused by your reaction. “You never seen this before?”
“Obviously not. Just… let me” Your hands dragged up and down his body, getting used to all the new bumps and scars that littered his body. His skin was impossibly cold and only turned you on more. Your hands trailed down his abs and hovered over his cock. You looked up at him and searched his face for any signs of regret. 
His eyes only encouraged you further and his hands guided your own to touch him. In his frost giant form, Loki was impossibly bigger than any man you have ever been with before. His cock had barely fit in your hand and as you continued to pump him up and down, you found him to only get harder and harder. He moved to undo his pants and free his cock from his boxers. You watched as his cock sprung free and nearly hit your cheek. 
“Loki,” you looked up at him, his blue skin and red eyes intimidated you, but also made you feel a new kind of excitement. “Once we start, I don’t wanna stop”
“Then what are you waiting for?” He said, gripping your hair. You licked a long stripe up his cock from the base of it to the tip. He involuntarily shuddered and pulled your hair tighter as you moved your mouth to take in his tip. Even that felt like it was a lot. You gently started to bob your head up and down his length, trying to find a satisfactory pace. Loki had other plans, deciding that  he needed more. Your eyes rolled back and tears streamed down your eyes as Loki fucked your mouth, losing himself slightly. 
Looking down he realized only about a third of his dick could fit in your mouth before activating your gag reflex. He reveled in the fact that his size was making you react like this. You moaned and gagged on his cock, making him groan at the vibrations. His grip tightened on your hair. 
“You can’t even take all of me in your mouth and yet you're whoring yourself for me.” You only could moan in response, trying to swirl your tongue around what was in your mouth and jacking off the rest. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his orgasm. 
When he was on the brink, he pulled out of you, leaving you confused. 
“I’m gonna cum in that pretty little cunt if yours.” He muttered to you, as he moved you to your hands and knees. 
“Loki you didn’t-“
“I’ll be gentle” He said as he started to push into your cunt. Your breath grew labored and you started to feel the painful stretch as Loki started to fill you as much as he could. You looked up past the couch and straight into the mirror that leaned against the wall. You could only moan at the sight of his 7 foot body pressing into your much smaller frame. He was like a giant trying to fit into a regular sized door. 
He was anything but gentle. He barely gave you time to adjust to his size before he started pounding into you. The sheer. size of him had you feeling his cock up and into your stomach. He was rough with you, making you believe he was chasing his own pleasure. It didn’t matter when his dick rubbed and filled every inch of your cunt. You were shaking and moaning under him, feeling as though your arms were gonna give out any second.
“Look at you. You barely can fit my cock and here you are already about to cum.” He started to pound into you harder than before, making your legs shake. 
“Please- please let me. I need to-“ Loki hushed you. 
“Cum for me” You felt your pussy clench at his command and a wave of pleasure wash over him. Loki thrusted harder and got sloppier until he finally came inside you. He stilled inside you and panted. Slowly he disconnected himself from you and watched as his cum spilled out onto the couch. 
“Are you okay?” Slowly, you turned to face him, a fucked out expression washing over you.  
“We should’ve fucked sooner”
-----
day 2: titfucking - mista x reader
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plutoccult · 2 months
Text
NO ME QUEDA MAS
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pairing: hajime iwaizumi x female reader
description: iwaizumi’s wedding day was a day you dreaded for many years. now that the day had finally come, you regret never telling him how you feel.
word count: 1.6k
also available to read on my ao3 here
author’s note: finally, a new theme! i’m on an angst GRIND, you guys. been feeling really unhinged lately thanks to my girl @intorder for giving me fuel for angst, who also beta read this hurt piece. oddly enough, my life has been pretty good lately, so idk why i thought to write this. i’ve never written for iwaizumi before, but he came to mind first when i thought of this idea. this was definitely inspired by that one scene in 13 going on 30, but i made it hurt even more. i hope i did iwaizumi justice, and i hope you all enjoy without crying?
tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @dragon-slayer5 @jeanboyjean @femme-lune @darthferbert @kob3nie @thelazyhuevito @multi-fandom-fanfic @sterieshinso @kiiyomei @chrybdcsm @alienlatteinspace @abonbonblr @luverofutoshi @p3ritwinkle @juuzou13
taglist form here
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“well? how do i look?”
iwaizumi turned around to face you as he showed off his suit. you couldn’t believe he was actually getting married today, and that the person he was marrying wasn’t you. it was hellish to shove your feelings down your throat for decades, especially when your friendship suffered god knows how many miles apart.
a part of you died the day he returned from california. you were so thrilled to see him, missing him so, but your heart shattered the second you saw he brought a girl with him. it was even worse when iwaizumi spoke to you about her, saying he felt like he knew she was the girl he would marry the second he saw her. you wanted to be that girl, and maybe you could’ve if you simply spoke up. after all, everyone always teased you two about ending up together growing up.
“you look great, iwa.” you force a smile. it wasn’t a lie, he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen, standing so proud and tall in his suit. not a single scratch or crease on his shoes nor any signs of wear in his jacket. as much as it pained you to see it, iwaizumi had grown up.
“you think so?” he asked, checking himself out in the mirror, scanning for any flaws in his outfit. “i could’ve sworn i saw lint on the back of my jacket.”
“oh, i can get it.” you offer. iwaizumi immediately said “yes, please” and “thank you” before you stood up to help him. his back faced you, shoulders as strong as ever, making this all the more difficult for you. if you were his bride, you probably wouldn’t be seeing him like this right now. it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, after all.
“how come your groomsmen aren’t up here helping you?” you ask, cursing yourself in your head for being so nosy.
“i’m sure you can understand i didn’t want oikawa up my ass before i go down there.” iwaizumi chuckled. you force yourself to copy his laughter, pretending as if you found this so hilarious. if oikawa were here, you wouldn’t be ridden with temptation right now. only he could stop you from saying things you knew you’d regret.
“i guess i should feel special then, huh?” you question. “be the first to see you like this…”
“mhm.” he replied, you see him nod in the mirror. “special privileges for my best friend.”
you felt your stomach tie up in knots as he said that. best friend. that’s all you were, that’s all you ever allowed yourself to be. it could’ve been you waiting for him at the altar, but instead you’re helping him get prepared to marry another woman, ready to beg him to run away with you.
you pretend to inspect the back of his jacket, knowing there wasn’t any lint anyway. it was absolutely flawless, just like him. this was torture for you, and you couldn’t stand another second longer.
“listen, iwa…” you begin to say. “i should tell you something before you go down there.”
“oh?” iwaizumi turned around to face you. you felt as if his eyes were piercing through your soul, making your heart race faster than it was before. “what is it?”
“i, um…” you hesitate. was it too late to go back? yes, yes it was. “i think you’re marrying the wrong girl today.”
“huh?” he furrowed his eyebrows.
“i mean, i think you should be marrying me instead.” you blurt out.
“y/n, what are you talking about?” iwaizumi questioned. this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening right as he was about to get married.
“i’m in love with you, iwa. i love you.” you admit, your heart racing upon your confession. you should feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but something heavy still lingered on top of you.
“no…” he shook his head. iwaizumi had rejected the possibility a long time ago. even if he loved you just as long as you loved him, you were just too late.
“yes. i am.” you say.
“you’re saying this now?” he asked you. it almost made him want to laugh. life was just so funny, he thought to himself. why couldn’t you have said this before? why did you wait until he was about to get married? if things were different, iwaizumi would be reacting to this much differently right now.
“i know i should’ve told you before you went to california—“
“should’ve? i wanted you to!” iwaizumi interrupted you, much to your shock. “everyone said you were going to before i left! i just figured they were just messing with me afterwards…”
you remember telling oikawa how you felt about iwaizumi, it was his idea to tell him before iwaizumi left for california. you had it all planned out in your head, but as you stood there at the airport, you couldn’t find the words anymore. you chickened out, cursing yourself on the way home and the days that would come. it only made you feel worse when iwaizumi found someone.
what you didn’t know was that he expected your confession that day. you should’ve known oikawa would run his mouth. he always meant well, always hoping you’d end up with iwaizumi, but look at you now, a delusional fool.
“i was going to, iwa. i just got scared…” you confess to him. “if i could go back to that day, i’d do it differently.”
“well, you can’t turn back time, y/n. it’s too late.” he said coldly, almost like a stab to the heart.
“why not?” you ask, desperately clinging onto your delusions.
“i moved on.” iwaizumi replied. he might as well be twisting a knife, even if he was merely speaking the truth. “we've both gone down different paths, we both made choices, and this is what i’m choosing.”
“i just thought…” you began to say, but fall silent.
“just thought what?” he asked, raising his voice. “that i’d give up everything i’ve built for a last minute confession? one that i gave up on waiting for years ago?”
you don’t say anything. what was there to say? it was exactly what that sick part of you deep down expected. how stupid of you to think he would drop everything just because you finally had the courage to confess your feelings. if there wasn’t a whole wedding waiting to happen, maybe iwaizumi would change his mind.
you look away in shame. even if you didn’t speak your thoughts aloud, you still felt disgusted now that the reality of your confession hit you. you were terrible to think this way. not just a terrible person, but a terrible friend too. it was unfair to expect such a tall order out of him, especially now.
“my family’s down there, my soon-to-be in-law’s are down there.” iwaizumi said. “we care about each other, you know?”
“i know.” you say quietly as you bite your lip.
“y/n, you…” he let out a sigh. “you don't always get the dream house… but you get awfully close.”
you look up to meet his eyes, tears streaming down your face. to him, you were always the dream house. if only you had known that before, you thought. iwaizumi felt ridden with guilt rejecting you like this, and it didn’t help that you were crying your eyes out.
“please don't cry, y/n.” he begged you.
“what? no, i'll be fine, i promise.” you force out a laugh, no matter how much it killed you. you saw the look in iwaizumi’s eyes. he knew you weren’t truly okay, but he also knew that you were letting him go. it was the right thing to do.
“y/n…”
“it’s okay. i'm fine.” you wipe away your tears, trying your best to be strong. “i'm just crying because i'm happy. i want you to be so, so happy.”
you did, you wanted him to be happy. even if it wasn’t with you, you owed him the ability to be happy. it was the least you could do while you still had some of your dignity left.
“i love you, iwa.” you barely get the words out. “you… you're my best friend.”
you see iwaizumi’s eyes well up with tears, a rare sight to see. only you could produce such a reaction out of him. only you would truly have his heart forever, but life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. it was just the way things go.
“i should go. everybody’s waiting for you.” you say, on your way out the door.
“y/n, i...” you stop in your tracks, waiting for what he’d say next, and it only crushed you even more. “i've always loved you.”
overwhelmed, you walk out of the room in tears, ready to bolt out of the venue without another thought. oikawa found you on your way out, asking what was wrong and where you were going, but when he saw mascara running down your face, he knew exactly what happened, and he knew he should’ve been there to stop it.
you insist to oikawa that he tell iwaizumi you were sorry before you finally left the venue. you couldn’t stand to be there a second longer, you just had to get out of here. as you head to your car, you hear the beginning of the wedding march play. the sound brought you to your knees as you violently sobbed. if this was rock bottom, then you finally reached it.
as much as you wanted to cry there forever, you force yourself to get up, finally finding the strength to get into your car. you didn’t know where you were headed, but you knew you had to drive off somewhere far away from here. if only you could just turn back time.
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© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3
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i think you're onto something with the romance novels world and plot points needing to mirror the kind of outlandishness of the love story. bc the main characters are already inherently acting absurd just by falling madly in love in a month or whatever and then if you add in the contrivances of romance tropes, it starts to feel like whiplash trying to pretend the characters live in any sort of grounded "normal" world. Like when the author adds in a family conflict subplot where the MC is like in absolute shambles because her mom said something slightly passive aggressive at lunch. that reads as more jarring to me than like conflict being something ridiculous that her mom doesn't want her being a marine biologist bc they come from a long line of fishmongers. Give me absurd drama to match the over the top dialogue and character emotions, I knew it would be unrealistic it's a romance novel! I guess this applies more to romcoms, but the same would apply I think to an analogous serious scenario. Or at least that's my take on it
okay so having just finished genuinely the most boring romance novel I have ever read in my LIFE I'm going to expand on this a little so thank you for sending an ask that gives me such a great platform to do that
I personally generally prefer a romance that just gets fucking silly with it, like really outlandish. A Lady for the Duke (Alexis Hall) is obviously the dream, being a whole swoony historical trans-affirming fantasy, but contemporary fake relationship stories can also be fun in their sheer ridiculousness, like Love, Hate, and Clickbait (Liz Bowery), which I actually liked, and Unfortunately Yours (Tessa Bailey), which I did not like but was very funny. and let's not forget queen Helen Hoang's Bride Test, which has a premise that dances perilously close to human trafficking but all works out in the end!!!
BUT HAVING SAID THAT. I don't think that something needs to be totally implausible to be a good romance. two of my very favorites romance novels anywhere ever are Helen Hoang's Heart Principle (no one should be surprised Hoang is on her twice I adore her) and Akwaeke Emezi's You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty. both of these books are very grounded in reality but with very uncommon situations to heighten emotions and add urgency; in Hoang's case it's a character's adult autism diagnosis + death of a parent and in Emezi's case it's a very sudden and #problematic attraction coming out of absolutely nowhere. the stakes are very real, mostly centering around being true to yourself v disappointing your family, but the circumstances are still wild enough to make you say "god DAMN" and keep turning pages. hell, I'll even be extremely generous and include Mistakes Were Made (Meryl Wilsner) which is kind of a flop but does have the intriguing premise of "what if you were fucking a milf but her kid was YOUR BEST FRIEND and it was a secret?"
those are like the two sweet spots TO ME, and this book I just read (which was Thank You for Sharing by Rachel Runya Katz, I feel so bad putting it on blast but I know people are going to ask) really solidified it for me because TYFS didn't fall into either of those categories. I'm going to say something absolutely insane, which is that multiple times while I was reading it I found myself wishing that the book was fanfic, because on its own it just... didn't bring a lot to the table? it falls into the grounded category but doesn't really bring any of those heightened stakes to the story, it's just 330 pages of people in their late twenties complaining about dating and their office jobs. if I wanted that I could just ask my group chat! there's nothing particularly particularly gripping about watching made up strangers do it!
but then I was like oh hang on... if this was two fictional characters who are usually fighting with swords or throwing cars at each other or something this would be so gripping. it's literally the coffee shop AU principle, right? like seeing people in a very mundane setting having an office job and going to a bar is very shrimpteresting when they're normally defusing space bombs. I was explaining this to my housemates and I couldn't think of a straight couple to apply it to (the book is m/f) so I said Naruto and Sasuke, which is crazy because I've never seen a single episode of Naruto, but like. idk Naruto being a museum curator who has to work with Sasuke, a marketing specialist who he had beef with a summer camp 14 years ago, sounds kind of compelling, right? definitely more than just two people I don't know.
there's a post on here that I think about a lot that talks about why advertising a story with tropes doesn't work for original fiction as well as it does for fan fic because knowing the tropes is more helpful when you already have a sense of investment in the characters and their personalities, and I think this is related to that! I think sometimes you NEED to have a wider sense of scope for the characters for them to be interesting in a very mundane setting!
ANYWAY. much to consider, etc.
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ominous-auburn-orbs · 4 months
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Can you do a fanfic for Kinger and Caine's first kiss with mild NSFW
Here's some dialogue for help
Kinger: Wow.
Caine: Yeah.
Kinger: That was...intense.
Caine: Yeah.
This. This one was a struggle. But you were nice enough to give me dialogue. If you read my stuff for plot, there's not a lot of that to be found here lmao.
Also, same warnings as in the ask, slight NSFW, but it's basically just them semi-failing at making out like the sillies they are.
Kinger and Caine stood outside of the tent, watching the sunset. They held each other's hands, enjoying this moment of peace. Kinger eventually spoke up.
"Hey, Caine?" The ringmaster looked to him, immediately giving Kinger his undivided attention, although that was far from irregular. "This is our 7th date, right?"
"Indeed it is, my dear! It's sweet that you've been keeping count." It took a few moments, but the tone of Kinger's question started to sink in. "Wait, is something special meant to be happening? Is- does the 7th date hold a sort of significance? Was I meant to get you something specific? I-I'm so so sorry, my darling, I didn't-"
"No no no, you're fine!" Kinger chuckled, "There's nothing too important about the 7th date. At least, I don't remember there being. I was more referring to... our progress in our relationship."
"Why, whatever do you mean?"
"Well, we've been together for a little while now, and we, uh, haven't even kissed." His voice trailed off slightly. He knew he'd kissed people before, but all of those memories had a dream-like quality to them. He hadn't done much of anything romantic since he got stuck in the circus, so it felt like he was about to have his first kiss overall. It did make him feel rather self-conscious before it even began, worried that he'd do something wrong or embarrassing and ruin the moment.
"Oh. Yes, you're right, we haven't. I have done research on that, and kissing is allegedly a staple part of romantic relationships. But, I'm not quite sure how we'd go about it, considering our severe lack of lips." Caine chose not to admit that he had near to know idea on how to kiss someone, despite his extensive research. Very, very extensive.
Kinger brought Caine's hand to his cheek, requiring the ringmaster to fly in order to reach him. "How about we try anyway? Just use our collective knowledge, and... experiment, until we find something that feels right."
Caine felt heat spread across his gums. "A-alright, that sounds, uh, good. Very good."
Unsure, the two started to lean towards each other, Caine's teeth and eyes shut tight. Eventually, their faces touched, causing them to relax a bit more. Kinger moved the spot where his mouth would be against Caine's teeth. It did have a similar sensation to what kissing had felt like. Or perhaps he was remembering wrong. Either way, he loved it.
Caine opened his mouth partially, nibbling on Kinger's face, which was admittedly more pleasurable than he thought it would be, although the chess piece did have to hold in a laugh at the mental image of what their current situation would look like.
The ringmaster opened his mouth further. He remembered that he had read about how people would use their tongue to show more affection and passion, so he somewhat awkwardly ran his tongue across Kinger's 'mouth', which drew unexpected noises from both of them.
Since Caine didn't need to breathe and only God knew how Kinger's respiratory system worked, they continued this for a while. Saliva dripped down the front of Kinger's face, but he didn't care enough to stop. In an attempt to further chase the feeling of what he could only describe as his chest exploding from the inside, Caine bit Kinger's face, although harder than he intended.
"Ow-" Kinger pulled away, bringing a hand up to where he had been bit, but stopped before he touched it. There was no lasting mark on his wood, and the pain wasn't that bad. He started to think about how he wouldn't have minded Caine doing it again, but decided to leave that new feeling for another day.
"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, my sweetness, are you okay?" Both of their faces were bright red and their collars were crumpled from where they had been grasping at each other to try and get closer.
The chess piece wiped at his face to clean off some of Caine's spit. "I-it's fine, I'm fine, I promise." Kinger put one of his hands on the ringmaster's shoulder and the other on his waist, while Caine encircle his 'neck' with his arms. "That was- it was a lot."
"Yes, a-a lot would be a good way of describing it." They continued to stand there in each other's embrace. Well, Kinger standing and Caine floating. "Did you like it, though?"
Kinger was silent for a moment before pressing his face to Caine's teeth. "Yes, I did. I'd love to do it again some time, sweetheart, if you don't mind."
Caine couldn't help but be flustered at the petname. Kinger knew how much of an effect it had on him. "O-oh! Ah, of- of course, yes, whatever you wish for, my dear."
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ladykailitha · 1 year
Text
Little Runaway Part 6
Oh my god!! You guys are fantastic everyone!! I just wanted remind people that I have little practical experience with the show outside of meta and fanfics and gifs. As fully explained here. But I love everyone’s response to this story. It’s one of the earliest stories I wrote before I got further involved in fandom. So if you want to DM if you think something is off that’s fine, I’d love to chat! Also I have hit the tag limit, so if you want to see more, follow away!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Steve was in Eddie’s room reading the book he borrowed when there was a knock on the door of the trailer. He frowned. He wasn’t sure he was supposed to open the door when Eddie or Wayne weren’t home.
“Steve Harrington if you don’t open this door I swear to god I will let out the air on your tires!” Max yelled.
Steve went rushing to the door and threw it open. “Jesus Christ! Don’t yell my name.”
He dragged her inside and pushed her the direction of the couch.
“You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Max asked, sitting down. “You go missing for two weeks and come to find out you’ve been hiding out here. Everyone is worried about you!”
Steve sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Came out to my dad as liking boys, he beat the shit out of me and if he finds me, he’ll probably kill me. And I don’t mean in the nice parent way either.”
Max nodded. She knew better than almost anyone else what that was like. “So why here?”
“You think my dad would think to look here?” Steve scoffed.
She cocked her head. “Yeah, all right.”
“You really can’t tell anyone I’m here,” Steve pleaded. “Not even Will or Mike or any of them. It’s bad enough Dustin knows.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“Because my dad isn’t above beating up children to get them to tell him what he wants to hear.”
Max took that in for a moment. “Okay. Fine.”
Steve’s eyebrows went up. “Fine?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Fine. I get it. You know I do. Wait, is that why Dustin stopped by in the middle of the night last week? Was that about you?” Steve nodded. She pursed her lips. “Okay, but you may want to move your car.”
“Shit,” he cursed. “Yeah. If you found it, my dad might, too.” He ran his fingers over his face. And then he got an idea.
“I know that face,” Max said. “That’s your ‘I have a dumb plan’ face.”
He looked over at her sidelong. “You could move it for me.”
She thought about it for a moment. “You’d trust me with your car?”
“You’re a better driver than most people with licenses,” Steve told her. “I learned that first hand.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Just then Eddie came home and stopped short, looking at the unruly teenager on his sofa.
“Red,” he greeted coldly.
“She’s cool,” Steve told him.
“You two know each other?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“She saved my life once,” Steve said, crossing his arms.
“Hell yeah, I did,” Max replied with a grin.
“She is also the only one of the nuggets that knows to keep her mouth shut,” Steve said.
Her grin got bigger.
“Hey, Steve,” Eddie said, “your dad showed up to the session today.”
And suddenly all the light teasing joy between Max and Steve exited the trailer is a roaring gush.
“Holy fuck!” Steve said. “Is everyone okay? No one got hurt, did they?”
“Everyone’s fine,” Eddie said with a reassuring smile. “I sent him packing with his tail between his legs.”
Steve’s eyes went wide and a happy, almost delirious smile spread across his face. “You did?”
Eddie shrugged, shoving his thumbs into his back pockets. “I gave him a Munson tirade special. He left in a hurry after that.”
“Huh.” Steve bit back the next words that would have tumbled from his lips if Max hadn’t been there. I could kiss you! He blushed and scratched his cheek in embarrassment.
“I should get going,” Max said. “Take care of yourself, Steve. Or at least let someone else do it for if you can’t.” She patted him on the shoulder as she passed.
Steve stopped her at the door. “Hey, take care of it for me.” And tossed her his car keys. She caught them and then saluted. With a smile on her face she walked out the trailer, a skip in her step.
“She saved your life?” Eddie asked, deeply concerned.
“I got a really bad concussion, like out for a long time bad,” Steve said. “She was the one that was able to drive me to get help.” He gulped and looked down at his feet. “I think she learned because of her mom.”
Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. “Yeah, yeah. I can see that.”  
He took a deep breath and let it out. “Another unfortunate side effect of tonight: everyone at Hellfire knows your dad beat you and not just two weeks ago.”
Steve dropped his between shoulders and let out a shuddering breath. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know that. And now everyone did. “I don’t want their pity.” The words came out as a hiss.
Eddie came up to him and put his hands on Steve’s biceps, rubbing his arms up and down. “I’m afraid it was Dustin that let that out of the bag. He was just so terrified that he might have been the cause of your dad beating you that I said that it wasn’t his fault, that your dad was a grade bastard and had been for a while.”
Steve pinched his nose and nodded. “It not your fault or his. If it goes to trial what he did to me, everyone was going to find out anyway.”
Eddie nodded.
“I think I would die if anyone started being nice to me because they knew what he did to me,” Steve whispered. “I don’t want to be treated differently because I abused.”
“What’s wrong with a little sympathy?” Eddie asked.
“I acted the way I did, not because my dad is an asshole, but because I was.”
Eddie sighed. “Look, I’m going to say this only once and if you tell anyone else, I will tell everyone that you drool when you sleep, do you hear me?”
Steve nodded again.
“Right, you were never a bully, Steve,” Eddie continued.
“But I–” Steve said.
“No, Steve,” Eddie said. “You were a kid trying to fit in with the wrong crowd. You never pushed anyone down, you never called people names in the hallway. Did you stand aside and let Tommy do that shit? Sure. But, dude. That was never you.”
“How-how do you know?”
“Because fundamentals don’t change, Steve,” Eddie said earnestly. “If a good person does bad things it eats them up inside. They will try to fix it if they can, but often times they feel like nothing they could do would be enough. But bad people? They don’t give a shit who they hurt. Because seeing someone else get hurt, that makes them feel good.” He leaned down so he could see Steve’s face. “Which one are you?”
Steve looked up into those beautiful brown eyes and took a deep breath that rattled in his chest. “I’m a good person?”
“Hell yeah, you are,” Eddie said, straightening up. He pulled him in for a hug and held him close. And if he felt his shirt getting wet, he certainly wasn’t going to tell.
*
On Monday he ran into Robin Buckley who looked like she was going to murder someone, most likely him.
“Oi!” she said calling him over. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”
Eddie’s eyes widened and he tried to back away but she was faster.
“Hey!” she said grabbing him. “What the hell? I was told you know where Steve is and you will tell me what I need to know.”
“Jesus H Christ!” he hissed and tugged her toward the van and threw her in the back. He got in behind her and slammed the door. “Are you trying to get Steve killed?”
“What?” she asked, blinking at him rapidly.
“Steve’s dad is trying to find him and here you are yelling out on the street that I know where he is?” Eddie snarled. “Fucking hell.”
She got quiet. “I thought that was just a rumor. There’s also a rumor that you kidnapped him and are holding him for ransom.”
Eddie threw his arms in the air. “Why the fuck is it always me?”
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“All right who told?” Eddie snarled. “Because if there is going to be a murder in this town it’s going to be me against whoever told that I knew where Steve is.”
“I don’t know, but pretty much the whole town knows now,” Robin murmured.
“Shit I don’t know where to go,” Eddie said, feeling his panic rising. “I need you to get to Dustin. Let him know that Steve’s dad knows about me and to warn Steve.” He pressed his hand to mouth, trying to fight down the bile that coated his throat.
His eyes caught a bag of weed and he got an idea. He licked his lips. “If you see my uncle Wayne, tell him I’m sorry.” He opened the door and pushed her out.
Before she could protest he slammed the door and hopped into the driver’s seat.
Fuck.
Part 7 Epilogue
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bubblegumfrosting · 1 year
Text
Torture
Pairing: Nolan Booth x Fem!reader
Summary: What happens when The Bishop decides to torture you instead of Hartley?
Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, torture
A/n: I love me some Ryan Reynolds and I was shocked to see that there weren’t a lot of fanfics based off Red Notice so I had to write something
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You met John Hartley and the infamous Nolan Booth after getting arrested in Rome. Your life as a criminal was just starting and this was your second heist. Call it beginners bad luck. Somehow all three of you found yourselves intermingled with unearthing the three cleopatra eggs. It has been quite an adventure, an FBI agent, the world’s second best art thief, and the worlds best failed art thief.
Unbeknownst to you, Nolan and Hartley were handcuffed together in a room further down. You couldn’t hear a thing over the sound of a crowd cheering.
For some unknown reason the only thing you could think of was whether Nolan was okay. Your heart raced at the idea of the Bishop torturing him for information on the third egg. You hated to admit that the criminal had grown on you, his constant humor and dashing looks made him completely irresistible but there was also something much deeper and gentler that drew you towards him.
“Where is she?!”, Nolan spit at the Bishop.
She walked in front of him, “That’s not important Booth, this is the time where you tell us where the third egg is.’”.
Nolan let out a breathy laugh, “Piss off for a thousand years.”.
“Oh bummer, I really wanted to do it the easy way.”, she sighed, “That’s okay, I’ll get the information from you, by hurting him.”., she gestured towards Hartley.
“I’m sorry what?”, Hartley questioned.
“I love this plan.”, of course Nolan would.
Bishop turned up an electricity machine and made her way towards Hartley, “You two share a special bond, I mean why else risk your lives together attempting to steal the eggs.”, she grabs two metal pliers, “Isn’t that right, Agent Hartley?”.
“There isn’t any bond between us, I barley know the guy…Booth tell her we’re not friends.”.
Of course being the cheeky one, Booth had to play this one out, “She knows about us pal.”.
“That’s bullshit..”, Hartley immediately knew what he was doing.
“She knows about our special bond..she knows you were the best man at my wedding…”.
“You son of bitch.”, Harley spat at Booth, “He’s lying!”. The Bishop teasingly sparks the pliers in front of Hartley’s face.
“If she hurts you bad enough, I mean if she gets really creative with it, than I’m gonna have no choice but to tell her everything.”, Nolan continues his speech.
“Now Mr. Booth, where is the third egg?”, Nolan stayed silent, “Okay..here I go..”.
“No don’t wait..”, Nolan sarcastically pleas.
He seemed completely unfazed with the torture his new found friend was being subjected to.
“Hm, let’s switch it up.”, the Bishop nods to Sotto and he exits the room with one of the pliers, “If this isn’t working maybe giving a few shocks to that pretty little thing down the hall will.”.
Nolan freezes, suddenly the air feels stiff and the once humorous situation turned sour, “Don’t you fucking touch her.”. He says in a serious tone.
“Seems like we’ve struck a nerve, tell me where the egg is.”.
“Eat shit!”, she lets out a low chuckle and presses a button.
Your screams could be heard clearly, crying for help, crying for Nolan’s help, “NOLAN!!”.
“NO NO STOP IT!”, Nolan thrashes around, “ITS IN EGYPT!”, Nolan finally caved in.
She stoped the machine, “Where in Egypt?”.
“It’s buried with Cleopatra in the Grand pyramid, there’s a secret entry way, alright!Just please stop hurting her.”, Nolan breathes heavily.
“See! That wasn’t that hard, I would say nice working with you but we both know that would be a lie.”, and with that The Bishop left.
“I swear to God I’m gonna to kill that bitch”.
While the two of them got into a shooting fight with Sotto, you were still trapped in the chair. Your body felt numb and your cheeks felt wet, you presumed it was your tears. There was a metallic taste in your mouth and all you could do was whimper as you heard gun shots.
Than there was silence, you heard a door open and your blindfold was ripped off. It took a minute for your eyes to adjust to your environment but the only thing you could see was Nolan’s worried expression as he looked down at you.
“Nolan, it hurts”, you sobbed.
“Hey hey hey, I know sweetheart.”, he didn’t mean for the name to slip out but he was too distracted to care.
Nolan unhooked the restraints and guided you to your feet, you immediately crashed into his chest due to how weak you felt.
“The electricity affected her worse than me because she’s much smaller than I am.”, Hartley spoke and met Nolan’s eyes. Hartley knew the look Nolan had and felt guilty for how badly injured you were.
“I was so scared they were going to hurt you.”, you spoke.
“I wish it was me rather than you.,” he said in a whisper.
You pulled back from the embrace and met his eyes which looked down upon you lovingly yet concerned. He lowered his head and placed a hesitant kiss on your forehead. As he pulled back he analyzed your face for any sort of reaction, once he saw the faint blush on your cheeks and your smile he returned it. He cupped your face and leaned in, your breath hitched as your two lips connected.
You deepened the kiss by pulling him closer by the neck earning a short groan from him.
“Okay okay, break it up!”, the two of you pulled away both out of breath and looked towards Hartley.
“Dude! A little privacy here!”, Nolan said and promptly returned to kissing you.
“Why did I agree to any of this.”, Hartley left with a huff.
You didn’t know what the futures has in stored but for now you felt safe in Nolan’s arms and you knew that this is where you belong.
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gynnnicsworld · 24 days
Note
Hellooo! i was wondering what your all-time favorite hurt/comfort fics are? also I love your account, I scrolled through not too long ago and immediately was like yes, I've found my people
*screams internally* oOH GOD, thank you for asking that, I've been waiting for someone to ask that and I'm so glad this is happening! OK.
From what I can see in your profile picture, do u like spn too? Do u have any favorite couples there? cause I have a long list of fics in that fandom too *wink wink*....
Please ask me questions to recommend fics, because I have been trying for weeks to organize a part 2 of rec list but I haven't been able to, I have too many fics and I have no idea how to start organizing them. So by asking questions like these you help me recommend some fics and get organized. thks u <3ily
Life's (Kate's) a bitch and then you (she) dies
by: Littleredridinghunter
While everyone is busy saving Jackson, Stiles is taking a beating in the Argent's basement. When his dad gets hurt, he leaves a note for Scott that he is getting away from everything and to never contact him again.
Too bad Scott and the pack take him at his word....
One year later and they finally see Stiles again but it isn't a happy reunion. Can they repair all the damage that has been caused in their time apart?
(This is one of the most recent fics I've read and it left me completely destroyed and in love at the same time, the author of this fic is the same author of most of my favorite fics. Anyway, all the fics I've read by this author will appear here. (oh by the way you would like to know that spn characters appear here.))
Home
by: TheTypewriterGirl
God, this fic is BEAUTIFUL, it's glorious, this fic can basically be described with any adjective that refers to beauty and perfection. But there is pain, a lot of pain, this fic must be praised.
There are illustrations that complete the beauty of this fic. Like this↓
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Yes, you guys definitely have to read this fanfic.
You haven't read it??? WHAT ARE YOU EXPECTING?? RUN TO READ IT.
I downloaded the fic because I don't want to lose it, I would cry if one day this fic is deleted.
It's all part of the master plan - Sterek version
by: Littleredridinghunter
every fic that I put here you must read it, truly and seriously, you HAVE to read it, you can't not do it.
Sense of Home
by: siny
Home can be a place, but it can also be a person.
After the events with the Nemeton, Stiles starts suffering the consequences of their sacrifice. A journey he attempts to make on his own, but only becomes worse with every step he takes. In the process he seeks comfort in an unexpected place and it draws him toward an unexpected person.
(This fic explains one of the theories quite well, maybe you know this theory x if that theory caught your attention, you will love this fic).
hold me tight (you'll be alright)
by: orphan_account
Stiles is captured by the alpha pack for over a month before escaping. Derek finds him in the woods and takes him home.
Homeland
kitkatpancakestack
"And if you bleed for Beacon Hills once, you can be sure you'll bleed for it again."
(Tthis is a fix fic, but it's really good. I actually have many VERY good ones of this type.
God, I actually have a colossal mountain of fics to recommend and I have no idea how to start organizing them.)
It's where my demons hide
by: Littleredridinghunter
Stiles was used to his life going to hell. He'd just never expected it to be quite so literal.
When Rafael McCall returns to Beacon Hills after a five year absence it brings back lots of unhappy memories for Stiles, he'll do whatever he can to keep his secrets buried in order to protect those closest to him.
With Rafael's return Stiles discovers that secrets are always revealed, even if this particular time it's because of supernatural interference.
(By the way, I don't have an order, because all the fics that I'm putting here are really good and all of them are my favorites. BUT this fic right here is probably my favorite among favorites, this fic has a way of destroying your soul and putting it back together that you will love and hate at the same time and leave you wanting to read more.)
A Melody That Climbs And Then Falls
BY: siny
They won the fight against the alpha pack; the nightmare was apparently over.
That was until Stiles fell on the ground with blood coming out of his mouth when Derek reached him.
--
Or the fic where Stiles gets an internal bleeding for saving Derek, only a tragedy like this would make Derek realize his true feelings.
Peter betrayed them all and is currently missing. Allison and Stiles are buddies, as much as Derek and Erica.
Can't rely on me
By; Littleredridinghunter
Set at the end of season 2, Gerard beats Stiles up, but it's a lot worse than anyone knows.
The pack let him down, that's not really a surprise lately.
When Danny finds Stiles nearly bleeding to death the next day it's the start of a beautiful friendship.
Can the pack make amends before it's too late? Will Stiles ever forgive them for not being there for him when he needed them the most?
Echoes
by: jjmash
Stiles' magic accidentally creates a lifelike echo of Derek's baby sister who died in the Hale fire. Between games of tag and trips to the zoo, Derek helps Stiles pick up the pieces of himself post-Nogitsune possession.
(This one is short but sweet and sad.)
Finding His Home
by: OKDeanna
Derek Hale was a lot of things, and none of them very good. Yet, the one thing he couldn't shake was the one thing he knew he shouldn't want. But when an unexpected late night call reveals Stiles Stilinski has been injured, he will stop at nothing to get to him. Even if it means opening himself up in ways he never has before...
(I love that in the sterek fandom we have these unspoken truths, like the fact that we all know that no matter what, Derek is always going to believe and care about Stiles whether he's in Mexico or on the other side of the world, if Stiles calls, he'll go to Stiles.)
Wait For Me
by: Hedwig221b
“Stiles, we know about your Spark,” Scott looked at Stiles with desperate eyes, trying to convey something. “He is the Werewolf who's been chasing you. You must run. We’ll help you…”
Stiles stared at his friend, genuinely concerned for his sanity, because the nonsense he was sputtering was really fucking confusing.
This one is really good but fucking confusing or something, it really made me hate certain characters here and scream in frustration but I always trusted stiles/derek.
The Moon's Gonna Follow Me Home
turningterrific
Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.
He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.
Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.
He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.
And then he leaves.
(This fic will always be in my favorite fic recommendations, because I read it at a difficult time for me and it helped me a lot emotionally to move forward, so yes, this fic is one of my favorites among favorites, and I will always mention it at every opportunity. Plus we have Derek healing and that's beautiful because Derek deserves nice things just like Stiles.)
____________________________________
okay, I'm going to stop here because I have some things to do, but actually I have more favorite hurt/comfort fics. But I won't be able to put them all here right now, apologies for that, but please send me another question for a second part, but I think at the moment you have several fics to read.
I hope you like them, and please do not hesitate to send me messages to talk about all these incredible fanfics, I will be waiting for your comments. (and thanks again for the question)
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wjehfshs · 10 months
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Hi can i request a reader that has infinite feral energy? Like reader acts as if he drank 27 cups of coffee and 29 cans of energy drinks everyday and he is just... feral af. People are scared of ghost because he is tall and scary but people are scared of reader because he is just so fucking unpredictable, if reader walks up to you he will either give you the tightest hug and pat your head or kick you in the shin and call you a loser while your on the floor crying over your poor shin, and it doesnt help the fact that reader also has the thickest, deepest european accent known to man. Reader made it his lifes mission to try and climb könig everytime he sees him. Price made it an official rule to never give reader any coffee or energy drinks because the last time reader drank coffee everyone had to suffer a sleepless night because reader was stomping up and down the halls. Does crazy shit with soap cuz c'mon we all saw it coming. Whenever reader gets tired (which is almost never) reader acts like a completely drunken man, bumping into things and walls, always trips on the stairs, dramaticly tumbles and falls, when he finally reaches the end of the stair case instead of getting up he just lays there on the ground re-thinking about his life choices, silently and blankly staring into space, this happens so much that tf141 makes bets on how long reader will stay on the floor. Readers favorite thing to do is chase and terrorise shadow company soldiers and new recruits, while chasing after them he will yell in his deep and heavy accented voice which causes the shadow company soldier and new recruits to think he is putting a curse on them.
Oh my god I love this
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Reader is chaotic, crack fanfic, reader climbs König, MW/MW2 and Ghosts is kinda merged into one here with a huge select few of characters don’t ask why, male reader
Dude you where fucking terrifying
Energetic, heavy European accent, and completely feral
Before you came everyone thought Ghost was the scariest
Good god once they met you they feared for their sanity
Poor König can’t even stand without you climbing up on him
It’s like a daily thing
He’s just accepted it
You would grab onto his shoulders and climb up him like he’s a tree, then hug him like a Koala
Once you were given coffee by a rookie who didn’t know how feral you are
No one slept for the next 2 nights
Day and night you were running around, laughing, giggling, screaming, stomping
Like a literal child
After night 2 you crashed, on the stairs
Gaz found you laying on the stairs, face down just thinking, not blinking at all
“How long do ya think he’ll be there?” Soap asked
“I bet you 20 dollars he’ll be there for another 4 hours” Gaz laughed
Soap got the 20 dollars, you got up in 3 1/2 hours
Gaz was not happy but obliged anyways
The scariest part of you though was when you would chase people
The poor rookies would be screaming, running away as you laughed with your deep accented voice
You always caught them and tickled them
Ghost was just waiting for the day it was his turn to book it for the bunker as you chase him down
On the rare occasion you were tired, usually after a particularly tough mission, you were still just as bad
Stumbling around, giggling, no filter between your brain and mouth, and not to mention when you would randomly fall asleep anywhere
And I mean ANYWHERE
Once Price found you asleep in the shooting range after you stumbled in there in your tired, delirious state
Even with Rookies shooting guns and trying to ignore the man asleep in the corner of the room
You didn’t budge
But god did all of them breathe a sigh of relief
They wouldn’t trade you for the world, but they just couldn’t keep up
Once you went up to roach and nearly snapped him in half with a hug, he swore he heard a crack
But another time you went up to Keegan, hugged him, lifted him up, and threw him over your shoulder
Graves is usually the victim of your kicks
Rudy and Alejandro made a promise to each other to never give you any spicy food, who knows what could happen
Once you stole Alex’s prosthetic leg and ran around with it
He was hopping after you, screaming how it wasn’t fair as you just laughed manically
Farah once made the mistake of letting you use her bike
You rode around for the next 5 hours, once you finally got off everyone felt themselves melt from relief
Soap will occasionally rile you up when you’re actually sitting down, as calm as possible
He’ll do stuff like tickle you, make you laugh, anything to get you going again
Everyone loves you a lot but they have a lot of sleepless nights because of you
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bettsfic · 6 months
Note
hi betts!
i’ve been a fan of yours for years now (training wheels is one of my favorite stories— not just fics. stories— ever, and i really admire your style. as a writer myself, i want to ask how you’re able to keep your motivation up to complete your projects? i feel like i start out so motivated when i fall in love with an idea, but once that fevered haze fades, it’s almost impossible for me to get the motivation i need to write. i have a few wips that i feel so guilty about not finishing/not wanting to finish/wanting to finish but being unable to get the inspiration to. so, in short, how do you maintain the motivation to finish your wips?
thank you so much! i'm glad to hear it; training wheels is still very dear to me.
first, if you want a step by step guide to finishing your wips, i wrote a tutorial earlier this year in my newsletter.
also as i've said elsewhere, i believe it's more important to follow your inspiration and interest where it takes you even if it means not finishing things. one of the reasons i love fanfic is because it's the only genre i can think of where you get to read unfinished works and be present during the writing of them.
but you asked about *my* motivation to finish things, and i'll say it's taken me a long time to build the endurance necessary not only to complete big projects but also complete them to my satisfaction. in my experience, the better you are at finishing things, the worse you become at starting them, and so whereas i used to have a million wips and ideas happening at once, now i can see the ridiculous endeavor ahead of me and pick my battles more knowledgeably.
also, i don't finish everything, especially not right away. sometimes i sit years on a story before i eventually come back to it. but i've found that it's inevitable that when i put something down that i care about, i'll come back around to it when i'm ready. it's not something i have to force. my attention and interest bounces around all over the place but the things i love, i love forever. so i'll always come back around to them.
most importantly--and this is really very important--i lie to myself.
here are the two main lies i tell myself:
"this is the best thing i've ever written," and
"i'm almost done."
being a little delusional is a huge benefit as a writer. if you're too honest with yourself nothing can get done. but i've always had a natural talent for convincing myself of things that aren't true and although that's gotten me in a lot of trouble in all other aspects of my life, in writing it keeps me just far enough away from reality that i can finish things.
the process is something like this:
vague story idea!
will probably be very small, the shortest story i have ever written in fact
begin writing
feels good, feels organic
no no that's not right, bad vibes
start over
ohhh i see what i'm trying to do
outline the tiniest, easiest outline i have ever made. five bullet points. this happens, and then this and this, and the story ends. EASY
will finish by tomorrow, probably
write write write
will finish by tomorrow, probably
write write write
definitely tomorrow, almost done
check word count. 25k. uh oh
doesn't matter, almost done. have *checks* four out of five bullet points to go
write write write
five point bullet outline no longer effective
re-outline. five points turns into five pages. uh oh
check word count. 60k. big yikes
but! almost done! will finish tomorrow, probably
write write write
get stuck? how? but the outline...
the outline is ineffective. re-outline.
check word count. 100k. :(
almost done :)
a plot knot arises. spend six hours staring at a wall to undo the plot knot
plot knot is more insidious than expected. open new document. start over
*now* i'm almost done
rewrite, restructure, reorganize
check word count. 20k. :(
write write write
check word count. 200k. :((
weeks-long fugue state during which i am god
awaken to filthy apartment. i have not eaten a vegetable in many days. i have not seen the sun.
eat a broccoli
go outside
am i living? am i truly living? is this all life is? am i loved? am i worth loving?
return to safety of fictional world to avoid existential despair
write write write
will finish by tomorrow, probably
so it's really less about motivation to finish and more about motivation to chase down an increasingly elusive feeling of joy through immersion into worlds of my own making and control. it's way easier to run away from something than toward it.
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writerscafehub · 3 months
Text
𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙰𝚈: @the-iceni-bitch
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ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ . 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄:
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From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)
Oh god, a 3.5? I will admit that it’s very hard for me not to downplay myself, it’s what I’m best at. I will say that I have gotten much better as a writer since I took it back up.
2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?
I think probably my dialogue. I find myself able to sink into relationship dynamics quite easily and am able to show a character’s personality through their conversation with other characters rather than just describing it.
3. Are there any writers that inspire you?
Well, I have to give credit where credit is due as @stargazingfangirl18 is the whole reason I started writing fanfic. Other fanfic authors I find myself drawing inspired from would be @angrythingstarlight, @boxofbonesfic, @slothspaghettiwrites, @onsunnyside, and @howdoyousleep3. For my non-fanfic writing I draw a lot of inspiration for Ursula LeGuin, George R.R. Martin, Robert Jordan, and Tolkien of course.
4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?
Definitely In the Pines. It’s so different from anything else I’ve ever written and I honestly love it. It’s so haunting and I’m very proud of the prose.
5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?
Easiest is absolutely the quadrouple - my Ransom/reader/Ari/Jake kinda polycule that’s part of my No Love Like Your Love AU. I also find it really easy to write for Natasha and her peach from that same AU. Most difficult? Oof, off the top of my head Mike Weiss, he’s just kinda depressing.
6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?
Again, the quadrouple. They’re my comfort characters for a reason. I also just love writing about people in relationships, about them being in love and working through tough times but coming out better for it. I love when two (or more) people are just completely open and honest with each other and do their best to make each other better.
7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!
Fic wise all the upcoming stuff for the NLLYL verse, and there’s a lot. But I am most excited about my novel! It has so many characters that I love so much. It delves into stuff I’ve never written before but that I found surprisingly intriguing. And of course, there’s a ton of bangable characters. Blorbos for everyone.
8. First fandom you ever wrote for?
The Chris Evans fandom. I can’t help it, I want to fuck so many of that man’s characters. 
9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?
Omegaverse for sure. Specifically knotting and scent. I just want a giant, masculine smelling animal of a man to fuck me and then have his cock locked inside me for an hour. And the snuggly vibes of nesting and just having a bunch of soft and comforting things around you that smell like someone you love feeds the marshmallow romantic inside me.
10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.
Look, every time I say I’m never going to write for something I end up writing it. But I can hopefully say that scat will never happen.
11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?
Probably the one where Deadpool is stuck in a self-insert fanfic. It breaks the fourth wall and it’s short but it’s weird as fuck.
12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)
Ari and Jake. They’re so soft and sweet and perfect and I am never going to let anything bad happen to them ever.
13. Do you listen to anything while you write?
With my ADHD I have to. It’s usually just the tv though. I’ll put some sitcom I’ve watched a million times on in the background.
14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?
This is kinda tough! I love creating AUs but I feel like those are more a bunch of one shots that just happen to be for the same couples in the same setting. But I also really love the actual series I’ve done. So I’m going to say multi-chapter.
15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!
Constantly! I mean, if I daydream about it I typically add it to my WIPs which is why I have so many. It’s usually just about my characters being happy and living their best lives in some way.
16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?
Not yet! I will say I’m a little bit intimidated still about writing for a male reader but after my first foray into it I feel much more comfortable.
17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?
I can’t think of a specific one but I’ve gotten a few from people who have told me my fics provide a little bright spot for them and I always enjoy hearing that! There was also an ask I got where someone told me they recommend and discuss my writing more than they do real authors and that felt pretty good.
18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?
This goes back to what I mentioned before but definitely writing for a male reader. The reason I wanted to do it was part curiosity to see if I could do it and part desire to write for an audience I hadn’t had a chance to connect with. It turned out really well and aside from some cliche accusations of fetishization I had a lot of positive engagement.
19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?
Fluff, always fluff. If I do the angst I end up living in it for days and I hate it. (I say this while hosting a giant angst ask a thon on my blog)
20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!
For my fics, aside from my reader characters who in spite of being inserts are basically OCs, there’s the second generation of my NLLYL core group. All the kids are so cute and when they grow up there’s a lot of fun to be had, new romances and I could just go on and on about them. For my novel, oh my god you guys. There’s the Viking pirate sealord, the feminist icon, the super hot himbo best friend, the tiny and fiery lady of the lakes, the sexy villain, the spoiled but handsome prince. And that’s not even all of them.
21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?
Would it surprise anyone if I said the NLLYL verse? Because that’s the one. It’s like my security blanket.
22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?
Just that I have zero control over where my muse goes. If you’re craving the next installment in a series or an AU I am also craving it, but I’m also not going to force my muse to go somewhere and put something out that isn’t up to my standards.
23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.
“The cold wind whipped through your nightgown and tangled it around your limbs as you stared at the sky in rapture, bathed in the silvery light of the moon like some kind of goddess.” - In The Pines
24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!
I just love the community I’ve been able to cultivate in the fic writing community. Not just the members of this server but so many readers who leave thoughtful and sweet comments that always make my day. 
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