#Anyways this one has been laying down with the rest of my wips for like two months so I decided to post it before forgetting it exists again

[floralcyanide]

𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 - 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲

Cillian Murphy x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

Your husband decided to grow out his beard for a little while. You take full advantage of this.

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), squirting, fingering, cum eating, beard burn

word count: 1523

author’s note: NOT PROOFREAD this is just a drabble idea I came up with and had to get out before working on WIPs lol. I fucking love beard burn and imagining it with Cillian does something to me especially when his beard isn't super long,,, anyway pls enjoy (: feedback is appreciated.

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Cillian usually kept his face clean-shaven every day, and it suited him. But when he decided to grow his beard out just to see how it looked, it was a daily test for you to not attack him like you were a predator and he was the prey. When it finally reached a respectable appearance and length, you couldn’t help but run your hands over it and your fingers through it. The beard was a ginger color despite his fawn-colored hair, but you found it endearing. You also found it incredibly sexy. It wasn’t too long, and he kept it trimmed into a neat style. Sometimes, you’d daydream about how it’d feel against the skin of your thighs. It had been a while since Cillian had gone down on you, which you didn’t mind. Nowadays, you both don’t have much time for intimacy, but when you do, it’s immediately down to business.

One morning, Cillian is getting out of the shower, and you’re lounging on the bed. You have already taken your shower, so you’re flipping through a book you’ve been reading. You watch as your husband prepares to shave his neck where the stubble has grown noticeable. Getting up from the bed, you walk to the bathroom, where Cillian stands at the sink. Watching as he delicately shaves himself, you wrap your arms around his torso, careful not to undo the towel around his waist. 

“Time for a little maintenance, hmm?” you rest your head on his shoulder, watching his movements through the mirror.

“Yep,” he says, leaning his head up to get underneath his chin.

“I think it looks sexy,” you run your hands along Cillian’s stomach and chest, feeling him vibrate as he chuckles.

“I know you do,” he glances at you in the reflection, “You can’t keep your hands out of it.”

You comb your fingers through his damp hair, “So what? I can’t admire my handsome husband?”

Cillian laughs through his nose, finishing shaving. He shakes his head as he rinses off the razor in the sink filled with water, “Didn’t say that, love.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I can tell by how you look at me that you love it,” Cillian smirks.

“Is that so?” you hum, “You won’t do anything about it.” you pull away from him and teasingly cross your arms.

Cillian drains the sink, resting his weight on his hands on either side of it, “Get on the bed.”

“What?”

“I said for you to get on the bed, sweetheart. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Cillian says, a playful warning look on his face.

You do as told, jumping onto the bed and laying against the pillows, legs crossed over one another and your hands intertwined across your stomach. You patiently wait for Cillian to come to the bed, watching him drop his towel before stepping into a pair of underwear. For a moment, you wish he’d just drop the towel and leave it at that. He climbs onto the bed, crawling over you and sitting beside your legs. Cillian places his hands on your thighs, running his palms up and down the skin there before pushing them apart. Cillian pulls down your lounge shorts, revealing this morning’s choice of underwear. A lacy pair of black ones that leave only a little to the imagination. Cillian traces the patterns in the lace on your mound, avoiding touching you directly. Your hand reaches down and lovingly pets Cillian’s hair as his eyes meet yours. He sneaks his fingers underneath the lace and pulls them down your legs, discarding them as he repositions himself back between them.

“Spread them further for me, babe,” Cillian says, and you obey, letting your legs open wide.

Cillian’s eyes darken as he stares at your glistening pussy, all exposed and ready for him to devour. He delicately runs his thumb over your clit, pushing your hood up and back from it to fully expose it. You moan quietly at the feeling, and Cillian uses his other hand to open your lips even further before circling your clit with his tongue slowly. You can feel his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your thighs, much like how you figured it’d feel in your daydreams. Your cunt is spread as open as it can go, your legs unable to clamp around Cillian’s head. He ensures you can’t move your legs at all, hooking his arms around your upper thighs with his total weight on them. Cillian begins to lap at the fully exposed bundle of nerves, swirling and flicking his tongue against it. You feel yourself getting impossibly wet at the stimulation and the roughness of Cillian’s beard that is able to reach your inner thighs. He becomes more vigorous, shaking his head and moving it around as he licks, his facial hair scrubbing your skin. 

“Feels so good,” you manage to whimper, your fingers curled firmly in your husband’s hair.

Cillian hums, the vibrations hitting your clit perfectly as he sucks it into his mouth. He lets his teeth graze it as he releases it from his lips, letting his tongue slip downward toward your weeping entrance. Cillian starts to lap at the gathered arousal, letting his tongue fuck into you. If you could move your hips, you would. But the way he is pressing his weight onto your thighs keeps you from being able to move much. Cillian’s eyes meet yours again, and you let his darkened irises bore into yours as he tongues at your spongy walls. He moves a hand out from around your thigh, shifting your leg onto his shoulder as he lightly pinches your bundle of nerves between his fingers. You cry out, wishing you could grind against his face. 

“Cill,” you gasp as he rolls your clit between his fingers, “Please.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, not letting his tongue leave your cunt.

“I wanna ride your face,” you beg, pushing his other arm off from around your thigh. 

Cillian then grabs your other leg and places it on his shoulder, sitting up as he motions for you to slide him a pillow. He puts it under your back, letting your pelvis tilt upward at a different angle. Cillian digs his fingers into your thighs, his beard now flush against them as he runs his tongue up your slit and around your clit again. He shakes his head as he flattens his tongue against you, his spit mingling with your endless arousal. The mixture is coating his facial hair, causing it to spread along your inner thighs. The delicious burn of his hair scraping against you turns you on even more as you move your body up and down on Cillian’s tongue. He reaches a hand out to prod at your entrance, letting two fingers easily slip inside you. You let out a high-pitched moan at the stretch, your hips stuttering as you grind on Cillian’s face and fingers. 

“So good for me,” Cillian mutters, pulling away from you to focus on fucking you with his fingers, “Thighs all red from my beard. Is this what you wanted?”

You nod, wordlessly slamming yourself on Cillian’s fingers as he adds a third, letting them thrust into you simultaneously. You couldn’t focus on forming words as the growing warmth in your belly outweighed every other sense. Cillian bites harshly at your thighs, where redness is already showing. The sound of your arousal and Cillian’s spit squelching around his fingers fills the room with his quiet pants and your wanton moans. He watches as your cunt leaks onto the sheets, and he adds a fourth finger, fucking you with his hand without any signs of stopping. You cry out, fucking yourself onto Cillian’s hand as hard as you can, your orgasm creeping up on you. He sucks your clit between his lips, harshly suctioning the bud and flicking his tongue against its tip. Cillian curls all four of his fingers inside you against your g spot, causing you to quickly unravel. You let out a guttural moan, feeling yourself gush around his fingers and onto his face. You look down at Cillian, who isn’t letting up on his thrusts, repeatedly brushing his fingertips along your spot inside, making your body quiver as another squirting orgasm comes over you. He graciously laps up your arousal, his beard and perfect lips glistening. 

“God,” you gasp, letting your body relax into the bed as Cillian pulls his hand out of you, his mouth still attached to your soaked pussy, licking up everything he can.

“I should eat you out with this beard all the time if you’re gonna cum like that,” Cillian sucks off his fingers.

You grab his wrist, stopping him before he can entirely clean off his fingers and take them into your mouth. The taste of yourself and Cillian’s saliva coats your tongue as your eyes meet his. Cillian groans, the bulge in his underwear becoming more painful at the sight of you tasting your own squirt.

“Don’t think we’re done,” you chuckle as you nibble at Cillian’s fingers, “It’s your turn to lay down now.”

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x reader smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic' #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy one shot #floralcyanide writes

[tangledupinyellow]

Tonight | Joel Miller X Wedding Planner F!Reader

authors note: finally got this one out! with a new job and new house, life has been pretty chaotic recently but I finally got back into my usual writing schedule!! lots of wips at the moment so prepare for those!

part three of love is in the air part one here: love is in the air part two here: tensions rise

summary: Joel thought that he would be having the time of his life the night before his wedding. But he’s conflicted, for all he can think about is you.

warnings/tags: 18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, infidelity, age gap (24 and 46), nicknames (baby girl, doll, baby) fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, angst

word count: 4.6k

“We really can’t be doing this anymore, it isn’t right…”

The words repeated in Joel’s head over and over and over again. He gripped his drink of whiskey, swirling it around before taking a swig. Looking around, he saw all his buddies laughing and dancing, having the time of their lives and partying. Partying just like how he should be doing. But instead, he stood in the corner with a drink in hand, lost in his thoughts.

It was the night before his wedding, the last night he would be considered a single man. Much of his freedom will be washed away from him when he finally ties the knot. He was supposed to be getting wasted with his friends and having a blast, having one last ‘hoo-rah.’

But he felt like shit, to put it lightly.

He watched as all of his friends were having a good time without him at a party that was supposed to be for him letting loose.

He would say that he would much rather be home than here, but that would also be a lie. Jenna would most likely be home. He wanted to be with you.

Taking a deep breath, Joel finished his glass of whiskey in one go before setting it down. With a groan, he rubbed his temples and another sigh left his lips.

“Pre-wedding nerves?” Tommy joined him in his corner with a laugh. He could smell the alcohol on his breath.

Joel chuckled and nodded, “S’pose you could say that.”

Yes, he was nervous and anxious, but they didn’t feel like the pre-wedding jitters he’d heard so much about from his married friends.

His nerves felt more like a sense of guilt, of regret. Possibly regret of sleeping with someone that wasn’t his fiancee, but he knew damn well that wasn’t it either.

His thoughts were messy and unorganized, all because of you.

All he could think about was you.

“Don’t be all mopey for the rest of the night. Come dance with us.” Tommy’s words were slurred, but Joel was barely paying attention anyway. With another laugh, his brother walked back to the rest of the group, leaving Joel on his own once again.

Instead of going with him and having a good time, he ordered another whiskey, drinking in silence.

┉┉┉

It’s late, nearing one in the morning. Sitting at your kitchen table, you dunked your tea bag into the warm water several times. Your eyes were tired and droopy as you watched the lemon tea bag go up and down, feeling as though you could fall asleep right then and there.

However, sleep seemed to be a big struggle for you. You were laying in bed for hours, restless. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Joel and Jenna standing at the altar, sharing a loving kiss as they became one. Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Your heart would initially sink, and your stomach would be sick. And immediately after, you would feel guilty and stupid for feeling that way in the first place.

They were your clients—Joel was only a client. You were the one who helped them plan their wedding. You should be ecstatic to see them finally marry. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t.

What’s worse, you’ll have to attend their wedding tomorrow to make that a reality. You wished you could bail somehow and devise an excuse, but this was a part of your job. You needed to make sure that everything ran smoothly at their ceremony.

The thought made you uneasy. However, you tried your absolute best to push your feelings aside. You couldn’t let yourself be selfish. Not when you need to remain professional. 

Sipping your tea, you hoped it would help you relax and ease your mind and racing thoughts. Maybe then you could sleep without having to envision Joel and Jenna kissing at the altar over and over again.

You almost felt like you were losing your mind. You had never felt so reluctant about attending a wedding that you assisted in planning before. But it was different with the Millers. So, so different.

You thought your time with Joel was just going to be a one-time thing, one mistake. But that one mistake turned into two. And now, you couldn’t take your mind off of him. 

You had to keep reminding yourself that you needed to keep things professional between the two of you. Even though you had failed this before, you needed to put it in stone now before it was too late. He was getting married tomorrow, and you needed to accept that fact. He is in a happy and loving relationship; that’s something you need to swallow.

Taking a sip of your tea, you closed your eyes and felt the relaxation hit you instantly with the warm lemon flavor. It never fails to calm your nerves. While they weren’t gone completely, they did decrease significantly.

With a few more sips, you were sure that you’d be able to fall asleep in no time. After all, you needed to be wide awake and perky tomorrow morning for the wedding. But no matter how many times you tasted the calming lemon tea, Joel never left your mind. 

You kept thinking about the way he felt, the way he touched you, the way he held you as he would thrust into you over and over again. Just thinking about it made your cheeks hot and your pussy throb. But the way he made you feel was what stuck in your head the most. 

Clearing your throat, you sighed before sipping your tea, already close to finishing it off. You were just hoping that this would work and you would be able to drift to sleep without another thought of Joel.

After a few minutes, you started feeling more relaxed and drowsy. You felt as if you were going to lie down in bed and attempt to fall asleep, and you may have been successful.

That was until you heard a knock on the door.

Your eyes quickly widened as your heart rate picked up. A knock on your door was the very last thing you were expecting. It scared the shit out of you, to say the least.

Your heart was still pounding as you slowly turned to face the door. You were cautious, for it was the middle of the night, and you had no clue who was at your door or why. You felt your heart in your throat as you slowly stood up, still overly wary.

Surely, if it was a murderer, they would have already attempted to break into your house, right?

A second knock followed shortly after the first as you approached the door.

With a deep breath, you slowly creaked the door open, cracking it open an inch to see who could be at your house at this hour before opening it up completely.

It was Joel.

You furrowed your eyebrows and opened the door, knowing that it was safe and that it was somebody you actually knew. But that didn’t calm all of your thoughts. You were still beyond confused. Why would Joel be at your doorstep? On the night before his wedding, of all nights? Shouldn’t he be cuddled up in bed with his bride-to-be all fast asleep?

While you were lost in your thoughts, Joel was staring at you, lost in his own. His eyes bore into your own, a swirl of thoughts in his mind. 

“Joel?” Was all you could say before he took a step forward, not even saying a word before putting his hands on either side of your face and pulling you into him.

His soft lips crashed into yours, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so. He kept you close, as if he were to let go, he would lose you completely, and that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.

You didn’t hesitate for a second before kissing him back passionately. You felt as though you wished upon a star, and now your dream came true. You had been thinking all night about Joel, and now here he was, standing on your front porch kissing you as if you two were the last people on Earth.

Your arms draped around his neck, bringing him in even closer to you if possible. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting all of you that he possibly could. It pained him to know that this could potentially be your last kiss. Although, there shouldn’t have even been one in the first place. He was supposed to be a married man soon, for fuck’s sake. But you were like a drug to him. He kept on coming back for more. Neither of you could get enough of each other. Each promise that you made to yourselves never lasted. There was always a part of you that knew you two would find each other again one way or another.

“Joel.” You tried to mumble against his lips, but your words were muffled as he kept kissing you, never wanting to stop.

He shook his head to shush you and brought your lips back to his into a passionate kiss.

He moved his hands down to your ass, giving them a cheeky squeeze before grabbing your waist, picking you up, and placing you on his hips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the kiss never breaking in the process.

His strong arms kept a grip on you while he moved you over to the counter to place you down, his hands squeezing and caressing your hips. Pulling his lips away slightly, he moved them down to your jaw, placing kisses down to your neck.

“Joel..” You took the opportunity to speak but interrupted yourself with a moan when Joel found the weak spot on your neck. He already knew you and your body much too well, “Your wedding’s tomorrow. We really shouldn’t-”

You trailed off from your sentence when Joel pulled away to look you straight in the eyes, “You want me to stop?” He whispered, his hand still firm on your hip.

You didn’t want him to stop. And he knew that you didn’t from the way you looked at him, the way all your emotions swirled in your eyes. 

“We shouldn’t.” You repeated, but Joel quickly stopped you before you could say anything else.

“I asked if you wanted me to stop.” He shook his head slowly, never looking away from your eyes. He could feel you tense slightly under his touch, debating with your mind on how to answer.

“I…” You whispered, licking your lips as you looked him up and down. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the bulge in his pants, and your mouth went dry. You wanted this man in front of you so damn bad. You knew it was beyond messed up and wrong, but you knew that this was your last chance with him, that after this, he would be married for good, “No. I don’t want you to..” You whispered breathily and pulled him in for another kiss, your fingers getting tangled up in his hair.

He smirked against your lips as he kissed you back instantly, proud of your words. They were exactly what he wanted to hear. He wasn’t ready to let go of you yet and wanted to show you that.

He moved his hands from your waist up to your chest, cupping your breasts in both of his hands. Your moan vibrated against his lips as he slipped his hands underneath your tank top, his strong hands now caressing your skin. The coldness of his hands sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps up your arms.

His thumbs moved over your nipples as he massaged your breasts with both of his hands, knowing just how to touch you to please you.

It was a familiar feeling, the feeling of guilt and pleasure all in one. Your mind has already told you, screamed at you, countless times before that you shouldn’t be doing this, that you shouldn’t allow yourself to be in this position. But no matter how much you reminded yourself that this wasn’t right, you couldn’t stop. Especially now, when this may be your last chance to be with him again.

The thought that you may lose him after tonight made you pull him in closer to you, wanting to be as physically close as you possibly could. You wanted to touch and feel all of him, memorizing every nook and cranny in his body to keep stored in your memory when he would inevitably disappear from your life.

You didn’t want to lose him, but you couldn’t express those feelings, especially not now. You didn’t want to ruin this moment between you. You just wanted to enjoy it while you still could.

“God, I need you so bad, baby girl.” Joel mumbled quietly in your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe. This caused you to lean your head back slightly and sent a warm vibration over your lower body.

You need him just as much. But you didn’t need to say any words to get that message across. He could tell the second he moved his hand under your panties, slipping a finger rather easily into your wet folds.

Joel groaned as he looked at you, his eyes darkened with lust and want. Knowing and feeling how much you wanted him turned him on even more. His bulge was prominent in his pants; it was almost unbearable. He could feel it throb with eagerness, being trapped by his boxers.

“Tonight, you’re all mine.” He growled, attacking your lips with his.

That one word stuck with the both of you. Tonight. He was yours, and you were his, but only for tonight. After that, he would belong to Jenna. And tonight, you would make sure that you would make it one hell of a night, for it may as well be your final night.

Agreeing with his words, you kissed him back passionately, your teeth nearly clashing with his. You put your hands on his cheek, his scruff prickling against your skin. You nearly held onto him as you kissed him, letting out all the emotions you’ve kept down since now.

“Bedroom.” Joel demanded, out of breath, panting against your lips for a quick moment before pulling away. He held onto your hips and helped you down off the counter. You could only smile in excitement as you made your way to the bedroom, Joel right on your heels.

Joel’s shirt was already half off when he stepped into the bedroom. He really wasn’t wasting any time.

You lay on your bed, resting your head on the pillows, your eyes watching Joel’s every move. Within the blink of an eye, Joel was on top of you as he threw his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner of the room.

Your hands instantly moved up to his chest, running your hands up and down as he started to take off your pants effortlessly. You were sure that by the end of the night, you would have touched every single inch of his body.

“Look at ya, look how damn gorgeous you are.” Joel shook his head, his tongue going over his lower lip. He gazed upon your body, putting his entire focus on you as if it was the first time he had ever seen your body underneath him.

You blushed and failed to hold in your smile as you stared up at him, “Oh, just fuck me already, Mr. Miller.”

Joel chuckled lowly and shook his head as he moved his hands down to his hips, his fingers grazing your skin gently, “Little impatient are we?” He whispered, lowering down to press kisses on your jaw down to your chest.

“Very.” You admitted with an involuntary whine, needing him more than ever. You didn’t know how much longer you would be able to wait without him inside of you.

Joel smirked at your confession and shook his head teasingly. Oh, how he loved to tease you and see you squirm under his touch, just desperate to feel all of him.

“I love seeing you needin’ me so bad..” Joel cooed and caressed your hips firmly with his thumbs, “I won’t make ya wait any longer.” He didn’t admit it, but he was just as desperate as you. He didn’t want to spend another second without him inside of you. He wanted to fuck you until you were unable to walk, wanted to make this a night that you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about for the rest of the week. 

Without any more warning, he slipped inside you with ease.

“Fuck, I love this pussy.” Joel groaned and held onto your hips tighter as he pushed himself inside of you. It wasn’t his first time fucking you, but each time felt like the first. He could never get sick of you. Whereas with Jenna, he couldn’t even remember the last time they spent a night together.

You fit him like a glove as if your pussy was made just for him, and he had found the missing puzzle piece. Joel took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself down just a little. He didn’t want to get himself too excited, for he wanted this moment to last. And seeing you like this and just being inside of you was more than enough to get him going. He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want this to be the last.

You and him both knew that you didn’t want him to go through with this marriage. Jenna never did anything wrong necessarily, but there was just something about you that she was lacking. He wanted to be with you and to stay with you. And even though you couldn’t admit it to him, you wanted the same exact thing. You had an ounce of hope that after tonight, he would tell you that the wedding was off and he was going to stay with you. But that was just wishful thinking.

“Nice and wet just for me.” Joel breathed, his hot breath hitting against the sensitive skin of your neck. Your skin tingled, yearning for the feeling of his lips on your neck.

His thrusts were slow and steady at first, getting you nice and eased in. But it wasn’t long until he pulled out before going back in one thrust, getting as deep as he possibly could, “God, I just wanna be deep inside of ya, doll.” he mumbled before doing it once more, the feeling of being empty to completely full causing you to moan.

You tried not to think about the possibility of it being your last time with him, and it was easy to do so at the moment, considering that your mind felt foggy from him thrusting into you over and over again.

You leaned your head back and grabbed onto his hair for something to hold onto as he thrusted mercilessly into you. The tugging of his hair only made him more motivated as he quickened up the pace. He could feel himself getting close, but he tried his best to distract himself from finishing for he didn’t want this to end any time soon.

He held himself up with one hand over your head, the other grasping onto your breast, squeezing and teasing the nipple while he kept the pace of his thrusts. With each thrust, you let out a moan or a breath of pleasure. 

This was something that you had enjoyed about sleeping with Joel so much. The fact that he knew exactly what you liked and that he knew what he was doing was incredible for you. He was the first to make you finish, and he’s always ensured you did.

You loved it. And for your own selfish reasons, you weren’t ready to let it go. To let him go.

Joel moved his hand from your breast to caress and squeeze your hip, the gentle squeezing making you even wetter. You loved the effect he had on you.

“Fuck, Joel! You’re incredible, fuck” You moaned out, feeling like your words were choked up in your throat. Moans followed your words, making you feel almost pathetic for how he easily made you feel like this.

Your head leaned back against the pillow, and you bit your bottom lip. So hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were able to taste blood sometime soon.

Joel groaned and smirked at your praise. It was just that little bit of motivation that kept him going.

There was a deep sinking feeling in his heart. Not because he knew he would be married to someone else soon, but because he was sleeping with somebody else. But knowing that this might be the last time he would be so intimate with you. It pained him to think about it.

However, he wouldn’t allow himself to get distracted and doleful, for his current goal was to make both of you feel good. And damn, he was going to do a good job of it.

“God, so fucking sexy,” Joel groaned and leaned down slightly to kiss your neck, a place that you were badly aching for him to touch, “Can’t get enough of you.” He bit your neck gently, pulling the skin slightly before placing a kiss over and over again on that same spot. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m close.” You moaned and squeezed your eyes shut, putting all of your focus on getting to your climax. 

Joel took these words and continued to do precisely what he was doing, gripping and squeezing your waist while keeping the same pace with his thrusts, knowing just what you wanted, just what you needed. He knew you like the back of his hand.

Your hands moved down from his hair onto his shoulders as you felt the finish line getting closer and closer.

“Come for me, baby.”

With your nails dug into his back, you kept your eyes shut and moaned and screamed out his name, your climax taking you by storm. You felt elated as he continued his thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm.

Your breaths became quicker as you came down from your climax, your heart racing at a million miles an hour. You felt as though you were on cloud nine. The idea that this was possibly the last time wasn’t even in your mind anymore. All you could think about was how incredible this man was able to make you feel, each time without fail.

With you finishing, Joel didn’t feel the need to hold himself back anymore, knowing that he had gotten you where he wanted you to be. He squeezed your waist gently and leaned his head back, the veins in his neck nearly popping as he came inside of you. Wet and hot rope after rope shooting inside of you, he felt as though it was one of the longest and most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced.

While he was with Jenna, you were the one who made him feel good about himself. You made him feel like the man he was. His legs nearly shook as he slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you instantly missing the feeling of being connected so intimately.

Joel kissed the top of your head before slowly laying down next to you, wrapping his arm around you. You had already come down from your climax while Joel’s heart was still racing, and his breathing was unsteady.

“God, you never fail to amaze me.” You break the silence and laugh.

Joel chuckled along with you and rubbed your arm as he pulled you in closer to his naked body, “Same goes for you, doll.”

While the two of you were feeling incredible, you knew that there was an elephant in the room that neither of you wanted to begin to discuss. But you know you had to.

“So, you’re getting married tomorrow.” The words felt forced from your lips as you glanced over at him.

You could feel him tense up once you brought it up.

“Mhm.” He hummed out and looked down, refusing to look at you.

You almost felt bad for asking, but you knew that it had to be done, “Must be pretty exciting, huh?”

You were hoping that he would say what you were hoping, that the wedding wouldn’t be happening in the first place. But again, that was nothing but hopeful thinking.

Joel opened his mouth to say something but sighed, his body still tense, “You would think so,” he spoke quietly, holding onto your shoulder a bit tighter to reassure himself. He couldn’t hide the truth from you. He didn’t want to, “But I’m not feeling the least bit excited. It’s dread, is what I’ve been feelin’. And I can’t lie, baby, you’re all I can think about.”

This is what you wanted to hear. But it didn’t feel right. Your heart was still sunken in your chest.

“But the wedding?” You whispered while staring up at him, wanting him to continue.

“The weddin’s tomorrow. I can’t just not marry her, she loves me.” The corner of Joel’s lips turned into a frown, “I can’t do that to her.”

The words hurt you more than you ever thought they would, especially now that you were cuddled up against him, close in his arms. You weren’t ready to let him go. 

With your head resting on his chest, he felt at home. You felt safe in Joel’s arms. You couldn’t deny that feelings for him were beginning to develop, which made this all that much harder. And saying goodbye wasn’t necessarily ever easy.

You swallowed the big lump in your throat and nodded slowly. Now was quite possibly the only time you could ever tell him the truth. If you stayed silent, you knew that you would regret it in the near or far future.

“I understand,” Your voice was soft, your throat was tight, “I really do like you, Joel… I’ve loved spending these nights with you. I ended up looking forward, wondering if I may see you again,” 

His eyes bore into you as you spoke. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed along with a frown on his lips. He had a gut feeling that he knew where this was heading, and he dreaded the words coming from your lips.

“And I want you to be happy. I know that if you cancel this wedding, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. I don’t want to get in the way of that, not more than I already have. You and Jenna deserve to be happy.” You fought back the tears, refusing to choke up in front of him.

Joel stayed silent and frowned as he looked at you, squeezing his hand gently. He didn’t say a single word as he stood up from your bed. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You squeezed your eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling down.

It was a silent goodbye. He was hesitant, but he didn’t want to make this goodbye harder than it already was.

He left the room without turning back. 

Once you opened your eyes, the tears fell down.

You tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep that night. They are getting married tomorrow. And there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #18+ #female reader #writing #fiction #joel miller smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut #joel miller angst #tlou angst #the last of us angst

[formula-fun]

Hi!!!!!!

So happy that you have found time to write again!

By now I have reread the story too many times so I have been trying to “force” your two amazing stories on my best friend in hopes of finding someone to scream together (I have successfully dragged her across most of the fandoms I have dabbled in) and she was very excited when I explained the plot and showed her my too-long asks on your tumblr to her 🤣

Of course she would love them as much as I do, and she would be running out of excuses for wips (hahahaha) when it looks like the final chapters might be happening!

Very very excited! Thank you so much for taking the time to write! 😘

Hey hey!!!

Aww thanks so much!! I know its not for everyone and wips sometimes arent everyones cup of tea either but i hope she likes it if she gives it a try!! ive had the wildest month in the world so im only now starting to clean them up, but really hoping to have them up soon before school gets crazy again <3

leaving a snippet here for you since i love it so so much but am unfortunately about to cut it!

In Brazil Max doesn’t even bother pretending he wants to use his own hotel room. Charles has only been settled for fifteen minutes when a polite knock rings through the room, and when he opens the door it’s to the sight of Max standing in front of it, tapping away on his phone, his backpack slung precariously over the handle of the suitcase resting beside him.

“Is the WiFi working for you?” he asks in lieu of a greeting, wandering past Charles when Charles steps aside.

“I don’t know,” Charles says, amused. “I just got here.”

“Oh. Same.” He flops backward onto the bed, his knees hanging over the edge, not looking up when his suitcase finally overbalances and falls to the floor with a clatter. He drops his phone somewhere over his head, stretching his arms until they shake. He looks lazy and content, easy with the way he’s made a place for himself in Charles’ space, like he knows he’s always welcome. Charles wants to get on the bed and crawl toward him, one palm on his sternum, and see what his mouth feels like against Charles’ upside down.

He swallows hard.

“Do you want to order room service?” Max asks him.

They have places to be. Charles is pretty sure they do, anyway. They always do. He and Max have been apart for barely ten hours. It’s not long enough to miss someone; not at all.

He lets Max pick up the menu and narrate it aloud to him, halfheartedly debating each item while Charles systematically empties his suitcase across the entirety of the room. Max finally toes his shoes off and slides backward to sit against the headboard, picking up the phone and fiddling with the cord as he orders them a ninety dollar pizza and a seventy dollar fruit tray and a fifteen dollar bottle of sparkling water, and then mumbles something about putting it on his room’s tab instead of Charles’, even though their teams foot the bills anyway. As soon as the phone thunks down into the cradle Charles drops the shirt he was pretending to fold and turns to crawl onto the bed and curl into Max’s side.  

Max’s hand settles on his waist, heavy and warm. “They said fifteen minutes,” Max tells him. His eyes are wide and soft.

Charles shakes his head. “That’s fine,” he answers. His chest feels too big—too full. Max is looking at him with a gentle kind of happiness, and when Charles thinks about him seeking Charles out and living in his space he feels too much. He doesn’t know what to do with it all.

He cups his face and kisses him in greeting, finally—means to keep it short and sweet, but Max pulls him closer immediately. It’s stupid; it shouldn’t feel the way it does, when they’ve barely been apart a day. It doesn’t matter.

He relaxes into Max’s hold a little too much, half-sprawled across his lap and unbalanced because of it. Max just rolls them until they’re laying sideways, their heads at the foot of the bed, kissing lazily all the while. Time turns soft and elastic, everything else drifting away, Charles caught somewhere in all the things they’re pressing against each other’s lips: hello’s and how are you’s and I missed you’s and I love you’s.

When a woman comes with the room service cart Charles has to get up and let her in with wobbly legs, his lips tingling. He winces behind her back when he registers her alpha scent as she passes him, a stark contrast to the happy tangle of Charles and Max’s scents that’s taken all of half an hour to permeate the room. There’s no way she doesn’t notice it, but she doesn’t say a word. Max gives her a bashful red-lipped smile and a tip that’s double the cost of their food, and Charles resists the urge to put his face in his hands.

#if i had words #if anyone saw me posting anonymously on ao3 in the last few weeks? look away #busy means too busy to work on the 68000 word project #it doesnt mean too busy to dick around on anon #lestappen #writing tag

[buckyismybicycle]

I don't know how terrible this quality will be on Tumblr, but the higher resolution/original can be found on AO3!

Title: swim for the music that saves you Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Tags: ShrinkyClinks, Social Media AU, WIP/teaser Summary: It all started when he sent a video singing Happy Birthday to his sister, not knowing that she would post it on her social media.

Now, JBuckyBarnes has millions of followers all hearing his story, following his recovery, listening to him sing. Little does he know, he's going to change the life of one follower in particular.

Steve Rogers, chronically ill and spending most of his days inside, has to live vicariously through others. He longs for adventure, trying new things, feeling the sun on his face. A/N: This fic has been sitting in my drafts for some time now... Thanks to @buckybarnesevents: Alternate June-iverse giving me a little kick, I've decided to post an excerpt/the beginning and the rest of it will come in due course.

“Hiya folks… Well, it was, uh.” The brunette on screen pauses and then smiles sadly. “Alright, you know I can’t lie to you. I wanna say it was fine and dandy, but it was honestly rough. That’s why this video’s a bit late, sorry ‘bout that, by the way. It took longer than I thought it would to edit so I honestly kind of gave up.”

He lays his head in a propped up hand, resting against his piano. 

“So, I got home Sunday afternoon and crashed. I don’t even remember getting into bed. Didn’t sleep through the night, of course. I never do. But! That’s just me, my body’s not a fan of the meds. I was feeling crummy — you know when you’re so hungry you’re nauseous but you can’t eat ‘cause you’re nauseous? Anyway, so that for like, six hours. Finally got to sleep when the sun was risin’ but only managed about an hour or so. You lot haven’t heard Brooklyn traffic.”

Steve can’t help but smirk at that because he has, and he is in fact listening to the god-awful Brooklyn traffic outside his window. He could always move his desk away from the window, but he needs some sort of sunlight from time to time.

The YouTube video plays on his phone while he takes a break from work, stretching and wincing as his joints crack.

“So, it’s like, ten in the mornin’ and I decide I’m gonna get something to eat. Nausea won that round, unfortunately, so by three o'clock I am starving. I was cranky for the whole day, and I don’t wanna make cranky videos for you guys. So, that’s enough rambling from me. My brain’s been a little all over the place so I haven’t written anything in ages, but how about a cover of the best of the best? Thanks for sticking around! Hope you like this one.”

Steve watches as Bucky lifts the cover of his piano and stretches the fingers on his prosthetic. Today, it’s the metal titanium one, with its beautiful plate work and a small Hydra Industries logo on the forearm. 

You gotta swim… Swim for your life

Swim for the music that saves you

When you're not so sure you'll survive

You gotta swim… Swim when it hurts

The whole world is watching

You haven't come this far to fall off the earth

The currents will pull you, away from your love

Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave begging to tear down the dawn

Memories like bullets, they fired at me from a gun

Cracking the armor, yeah

I swim for brighter days, despite of the absence of sun

Choking on salt water, I'm not giving in, I swim

You gotta swim… through nights that won't end

Swim for your families, your lovers, your sisters, and brothers and friends

Steve listens to the beautiful voice fill the empty space of his studio apartment, caught up in the soft yet powerful melody. What really hits him are the words, though. 

Bucky’s life is no secret — except maybe his real first name because there’s no parent on this planet that hates their kid that much. Steve doesn’t know exactly how Bucky had started off, but the channel was a newer discovery for Steve. 

Well, there it is. As always, thanks so much for tuning in! Hope you liked the song, and maybe I’ll see you guys next time with something original, huh? Bye!” 

#connect4AU #alternate juneiverse #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #and moodboard I suppose #bucky barnes fanfiction

[samanddeansannoyingsis]

Heaven and Earth

Just a Gabriel x reader that's been sitting in my wip box for a month.

Characters:

Sam x reader (platonic), Castiel x reader (platonic), dean x reader (mentions of romantic), Gabriel x reader

Summary:

You are an angel who became human with immortality after God takes your wings for helping Gabriel escape. When an old friend comes to town you meet up and plan a prank on the Winchesters and then celebrate.

Warning gets spicy but there's no outright smut, mention of you wearing a dress, but mostly gender neutral. Also tried to keep in the second person. And I definitely got carried away. It's kinda long.

I hope you enjoy reading and always comment, like and repost to remind me to write more.

You go to the bar a few miles out of town, Gabriel was in town. You take a breath and enter the door to see your favorite archangel sitting at the bar. His lips turn to a gentle smile as he looks at you. He waved you over and pats the empty seat next to you.

"Well hello, Dolly!~ What brings you to me this fine evening?" Gabriel says while you sit down and order a drink.

"Just need some company. The boys are driving me crazy. You know how protective Dean and Sam are." You shake your head and sigh.

"Oh? What happened this time?" He says knowingly.

"I was hunting and got sick. God forbid i do anything." You sigh. "I'm not made of glass, but they seem to think so." You take a big swig of your drink.

"I can understand that. But they just wanna look out for you, y'know? You can't be mad at 'em for that." You look at him glaring slightly.

"I can when they abuse their own bodies ten times worse then I do." This makes him smile and in turn you smile.

"Hah! Ain't that the truth! Those two are a mess. It's always a fight to get'em to lay down and rest their weary bones. Always have been."

"Tell me about it." You roll your eyes but smile anyway. It goes silent for a minute but it's comforting. Gabe breaks the silence.

"You know, you and me, we got more in common than you might think."

"Oh yeah? How do you figure?"

"Well, let's see. We're both angels. We both used to be up in heaven. And we both love to just cause havok. Just to make things interesting, yeah?"

"True enough. I mean after I had my wings taken away for helping you escape I'm more human than angel." You smile and shove him playfully.

"And we both know that things haven't exactly gone our way lately. I mean you, you lost your wings. And me, I'm a mortal now. I sure miss the good old days..." He sighs stuck in memories long since passed.

"Yeah but who says it's all over? I mean at the end of the day we still have each other right?" You smile.

"And I'm gonna count that as a win. So you know what I think we need?"

"Not a clue, another drink?" You smile and he shakes his head, "What then?"

"A little razzle dazzle. Some good old fashion mischief making. Just to let these boys know we're still around. Don't you think?"

I smile at the idea. "I'm in. What's the idea Gabe?"

"Ooh... I have the perfect one. These boys are really something when it comes to pranks, right?"

"Supposably, but they both get sour when I do something."

"Well that's exactly what I mean. We gotta get 'em back. You know what these boys hate?"

"Sam hates clowns and Dean hates heights." You shrug not fully getting what he's thinking.

"Ah ha! So... We combine the two and then throw a little cherry on top for shits and giggles." You raise an eyebrow.

"How exactly are we gonna do that?"

"Well you know that fair that's coming to town?"he says causing you smile.

"Yeah. I was going to avoid it like the plague and hoe up in the bunker for a week."

Gabe gives you a look.

"Now why on earth was you gonna do that, dolly?"

I shrug. "I don't like large groups of people."

"That's a shame. Cuz I got this lovely little plan for that place and it's gonna be a hoot. You in?" I sigh and contemplate.

"I guess, but after I vote movie night. Just us. No Winchesters."

"Deal, doll! Deal!" Gabe shakes your hand excitedly, "So how's this for a plan. We're gonna get Sam and Dean on the Ferris wheel all harnessed up. And here's the kicker, there will be clowns running the ride." Gabe laughs diabolically, causing you to chuckle.

"That's good. And for extra kicks I pay off a clown to follow Sam around."

"Oh!" He raised his eyebrows and laughs more. "Now that's a plan worth following, doll."

I laugh. "This is payback that means no mercy."

"That's right. I can only imagine the look on Dean's face when we pull this off." You can see an anxious dean in your mind causing you to laugh more.

"He's gonna hate me for a few weeks."

You look at Gabe's eyes. "Thank you for hanging out with me. I always enjoy your company"

"Anytime, doll. Anytime." You blush slightly but cover it up.

"How am I gonna get the boys out anyways? Ideas?"

"Well let's see.. Dean likes to hang around the carnival food stands and sam well.. He likes to win stuffed animals. You got a plan with any of that?"

"Maybe bribery and just saying that I'm meeting you there. You should have seen them when I said I was going out tonight. Cas looked ready to fight me."

"Oh I can only imagine. The boys are really attached to you, ain't they?" You laugh at Gabe's comment.

You've been a part of the boys life since they saved you from a group of demons trying to torture information from you about Gabriel. You might be almost immortal but that doesn't mean you can't die. Key word almost. Since they saved you they just kept you around. Figuring you'd be a good addition, you did grow a special place in your heart for the boys though.

"They are something. Can't do without me for too long."

"Well who could blame 'em? You're lovely to look at, that's for sure." Gabriel smirks at you. You roll your eyes and blush.

"Oh hush you. You don't know what you're talking about."

"I see the way Dean looks at you. I can't blame him though. The guy's head over heels for ya." You roll your eyes at him.

"Please he sees me as a sibling and nothing more. And even still, he's sweet but I prefer a little more spice." He perks up at that.

"Oh? Does that spice possibly come from Cas?" I shake my head.

"Nope, but it does come from an angel of sorts"

Gabe laughs and smirks, "And just who might that be?"

"I can't tell you that." I smile knowingly, "connect the dots yourself. You're smart."

"Well, that narrows it down. I'm thinking of a certain angel of justice perhaps..." He looks at you. You smile.

"Perhaps."

"Well it's nice to see you've found yourself some spice. You make that little angel very happy, don't ya?" He smirks at you. But you hold strong, trying not to reveal your cards too quick.

"I try to."

"Well I think you're doing a damn good job, doll." He smiles at you warmly.

I smile back as he puts an arm around me.

"That's good."

"Alright, little doll, I think we should get to it. We're burning the night away. And I wanna make this the best damn plan I come up with in centuries. Whatcha say?" You smile as he rubs his hands together.

"I say, let's do it!"

"That's the spirit, dolly!" He laughs. "Let's teach these boys a lesson they'll never forget."

"Oh for sure! It'll be great!"

"Oh don't worry. It'll be amazing. And afterwards, you and I will celebrate." He wiggles his eyebrows but you smile anyways.

"Heh, you're too much, doll. Now, go get yourself pretty, we got work to do!"

"Do you think daisy dukes or a sundress?" You contemplate.

"Hmm... Sundress." He says firmly. You smile trying to mentally pick which one to wear.

"Good choice!" You say. You smile and go to get up and get ready.

"Oh and bring a few extra bucks with ya. Cotten candy is good for my mind." You smile and shoot him a thumbs up. Starting to make your way to the door Gabriel shoots one more comment your way.

"And make sure you look fine. I wanna see just how much Dean's head spins round for you." He winks at you, butterflies fill your stomach.

Whispering to yourself, "With any luck it won't just be Dean." Gabe must have heard you though.

"You sly devil. That's my doll..." This causes you to blush.

"Now go on, get yourself over to the carnival. And give 'em hell, doll. " You shoot him a wink as you leave and drive your motorcycle back to the bunker and get a few hours of sleep.

Later, you are dressed in a green sundress with a slit in the thigh and matching makeup.

You shoot yourself finger guns in the mirror as you give yourself a final once over. You walk out to see Sam nursing his 3rd cup of coffee and dean finishing his breakfast. Cas is sitting near dean, talking about something.

Dean looks over hearing you come to the kitchen. His eyes go wide and are glued to your exposed thigh from the slit. You see him gulp slowly.

Sam looks impressed, "You look nice. Any occasion?"

"Do I need an occasion to dress up?" You shoot back teasingly.

"Looking like sex on heels like that you do." Dean says finally. You shoot him a playful wink causing him to turn red.

"I wanted to go to the carnival in town today! I was hoping you guys would come too. If not I'll have to just meet up with Gabriel. " Hearing Gabe's name, Dean and Cash shoot up.

"Were going." Dean says finally. Wrapping an arm around you protectively. You smirk.

"Then go get dressed!" Everything goes according to the plan. Dean rushed to his room. Sam just finished his coffee. Cas is always ready, eying me suspiciously. You smile innocently at him.

-Later-

Once you get the boys to the carnival the fun starts. You bounce in excitement. You get in and look around at all the rides.

Gabriel smirks and appears next to Sam.

"Well well, what do we have here? A little angel in a sundress? I must be dreaming." He eyes you up and down and licks his lips. Dean pulls you into him. Gabe turns to Sam and smirks, "You think we can get balloon animals later? The clowns are running around making them for kids." Sam gets noticably more uncomfortable.

You smile and blushes lightly as Dean puts his hand around your waist. Trying to keep you away from Gabe, who's eying you like a piece of meat.

"Sammy will you win me something? I see games over there!" Sam gives a curt nod and walks over his eyes silently thanking you for the exit. Not yet noticing the clowns behind him.

Gabe smirks. "Yeah I'm sure he will, doll. And while he's doing that... "

He turns to Dean and smirks.

"Well well who's that? You look like you've seen a ghost, Dean." Dean gulps.

I squeeze Deans hand lightly.

"It's just Gabe? No need to be worried, he's mostly harmless." You wink at Gabe.

"Mostly?" Dean says concerned. You nod.

"Mostly." You smile at him as you look up at him.

"Well aren't you two adorable? Now Dean, I think it's time we have a little fun, don't you?" Gabe pulls Dean off you and puts a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I guess leave me by my lonesome with my favorite angel, Castiel! We can go get cotton candy!" You smile and clap.

Gabe winks. "Sounds like a plan, doll." Gabe turns to Dean and laughs.

"Now Deano, I think you're in trouble."

You start walking with Castiel to get sweets.

Gabe laughs and then turns to Dean.

"What's wrong there Deano? You seem a bit... nervous."

"Wh-why would I be nervous?" Dean says trying to put a brave face on but failing.

"Are you kidding? You're shaking like a leaf. You really don't know, do you?" Gabe smirks at Dean.

"Why did I let myself get dragged here?" Dean curses to himself.

"Oh Deano... How adorable. You do realise why we were doing this, right?" Dean looks at Gabe distraught. Gabe laughs.

"Alright, I'll fill ya in you dork. You know how much you hates heights and Sam hates clowns?

"Sam yeah? But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, what if I told you that little prank that me and Hailey are doing has something to do with both?"

Dean smirks, "She wouldn't, you would. Don't drag her into it." This causes Gabriel to laugh.

"Dean! This little angel is smart, you know? She helped me fool god." Gabe smirks at Hailey, who's walking back with Sam.

You smile and hold a teddy bear Sam won. "Hey Gabe, howdy Dean! Look what Sammy won me!" You show then the pink bear. Sam looks less nervous.

" Hello, dolly. Welcome back. So did you get your cotton candy?" Gabe says, Dean is pale.

You hold up a bag of pink cotton candy.

"Yep! It's really good!"

"Aww I love pink cotton candy. It sure is delicious. But I think we can make our night even better, don't cha think?" Gabe smirks at you and you motion to the giant ferris wheel.

"You really want to go on it!"

At this point the prank is pretty much over for Sam. But dean's nightmare is just starting.

"Come with me, doll. Because the Ferris Wheel is calling our name." You grin widely and grab Gabriel's hand pulling him towards the giant moving ferris wheel. Sam and Dean stand there dumbfounded. But follow you regardless. They talk about wanting to go home, but refuse to leave you alone with Gabriel.

"Ahh, this is gonna be even sweeter than cotton candy, dolly. I'm tellin you." He whispers in your ear.

You smile and pop a piece of cotton candy in your mouth, moaning as it melts in my mouth. Closing your eyes to savor the sweet flavor, you miss Gabe's eyes get darker.

"Doubtful. Nothing is sweeter than cotton candy!" You smile at him.

Gabe laughs and gives her a small look of approval. Then turns to Dean and smiles menacingly.

"Well well, look at you boys. Just following your dolls lead. This is gonna be great. Aren't you excited to see the world from up there!"

The boys grumble but decide going on after you and gabe is the best way to keep an eye on you.

"Gosh you boys sound like parents!" You shoot back quickly shutting them up. Gabe laughs at this.

"We're gonna go on, are you two chicken?" Dean shoots up. You shrug.

"We're in line aren't we?"

Dean grunts. "No. I'll be right behind you both."

I stick my tongue out at Dean, Gabe and Sam both laugh at this.

"Yay! It's gonna be so fun!" You smile and give off happy wiggles as the line gets shorter.

"And you boys better hold your ground. This little doll doesn't take no for an answer, do you dolly?" You shake your head. Gabe smirks and winks at you, grabbing you by the waist and starts to walk towards the front of the line.

Dean follows with his arms crossed and a sour face. Sam nudges him.

Gabe laughs as I get more excited the closer we get to the front of the line.

"I can tell, doll. Now, I think the two of us should get our own seat, don't you?"

"Oh definitely." You smile and laugh.

"Excellent." You all reach the top of the line and starts waving the people ahead of us through as there was only one more seat left and knowing dean wouldn't ride it if he didn't have to.

"See, dolly? I'm not all bad. I have some good manners too." Gabe smirks.

"I think you just want to get the boys anxiety up." You look back at an antsy Sam and Dean.

"Oh, come on! They need to loosen up a little, don't they?" You roll your eyes at Gabriel.

"Our turn!" You pull him towards the seats. He laughs.

"Right on schedule." Gabe grabs your arm and helps you into one and then takes a seat in the one across from her.

"Ready when you are, dolly." He smirks at you as the ride starts moving you up.

"Let the fun begin!"

"Oh, it will, dolly. This is gonna be one Hell of a ride, and I'm gonna enjoy every minute of it. " He smirks causing you to wiggle in your seat. I toy with the slit in my dress.

"I should have chosen a lower slit. I feel exposed."

"Well, I'm not complaining." Gabe smirks seductively at you.

You blush harder and squeeze your legs together.

"You wouldn't." You laugh at him.

"Oh, you know I would." You both look at the boys and smirks.

'You boys ready for this?' You text Dean. Smiling, you look down and see Dean look up after reading the text and flip you off.

"How rude!" You say sarcastically, this makes Gabe smile and laugh.

"Don't take it too hard, doll. It just means he really cares." Gabe laughs when you roll your eyes and turn back to the boys.

'At least we get a little alone time now," he wiggles his eyebrows at you causing you to giggle.

"That we sure do." The ferris wheel starts to move making everyone's stomach churn. Gabe smirks seductively at you.

You blush.

"Later cutie. Let dean enjoy the view first." You smile.

"I'm just gonna get it while it's good." Gabe leans his body into yours to shield your view of Dean, so you only sees him.

"Oh, don't worry dolly. He's just being his grumpy self. You can tease him about it later, trust me." Gabe says. I smile.

"I plan on it." He smirks.

"Now, where were we, doll?" He puts his hand on your thighs, caressing them and looking at you seductively.

"Gabe. Be careful with what you're getting yourself into." You warn him gently.

"And what would that be, dolly?" He smirks and starts to move his hand up my thigh.

"I think you know exactly what you are doing." You suck in a breath.

"Oh yes, I think I do." Gabe smirks and caresses your leg more.

"I love how your thighs feel. So smooth. So... Perfect... " He leans in closer to your body and whispers in your ear, "so... delicious..."

This sends goosebumps down your spine. You straddle him which is easy because you practically already are on him.

"You flirt, absolutely shameless." You smirk at him, testing him. He kisses your neck.

"You love it." Gabe smirks seductively at you and caresses you more.

He continues, "I can tell in the way you look at me. In the way your cheeks grow a deep red color. In the way your body reacts to every little touch. You want this just as much as I do, don't you?"

He leans his head closer to her legs, caressing it and nibbling on your thighs.

"If I say yes?" You sigh contently.

"How about you show me just how much you love it, doll?" Gabe smirks. I roll my eyes but smile.

"Absolutely shameless. Too bad I'm into it." You break the invisible barrier and kiss him hard. He leans in.

"Mhmm, that's a good girl." He smirks and starts to trail kisses up and down your body, nibbling on your neck.

"I've wanted this for so long, dolly." Gabe caresses her cheek and leans in close again, nibbling on her lips slowly but seductively.

You moan lightly.

"Gabe please, what if someone sees?" You try to beg, your mind starting to give in.

He caresses your body and whispers seductively in her ear "What if that's what I want. For everyone to see you are mine." He growls in your ear.

"You couldn't possibly want anything else on earth more than me, dolly. Especially with the way you can't keep your hands off of me, doll. So why should I keep mine off of you?" He continues while smirking and moves his body around your legs, nibbling at her thighs again. Your hands go to his hair.

"Someone could see. Please." You moan lightly "Gabe please." Your body reacting the opposite from what comes out of your mouth.

He smirks and leans in closer again, "I can't help it, dolly. I'm trying, but I'm not strong enough. And I think you're the same." He whispers seductively as he leans back slightly.

He snaps his fingers to reveal the massive ferris wheel in the background.

"See? There's nobody around for miles. We're alone. And your body is telling you exactly who you want. You want me." He nibbles on your thighs again.

"Gabe please touch me." You moan in his ear now comfortable that no one is around.

He smirks at you.

"Oh, dolly... You're killing me." Gabriel says sarcastically then he laughs and nibbles harder, caressing you more seductively.

"I might have to make you beg me though, doll." He nibbles the inside of your thigh in a sensitive spot, causing you to moan and grip his shoulders for support.

"Gabe please. Don't make me." You moan gently.

"Oh I think I'm going to, doll." Smirks and nibbles harder, caressing you more seductively "You know you want me more than anyone on heaven or earth."

#spnfandom #supernatural #dean winchester #spn x reader #dean x reader #spn gabriel x reader #gabriel

[hoodie-buck]

so we can get to the fun part

my fingers slipped and i accidentally wrote another coda to 5x17 instead of working on any of my wips 🙃

rated g | words: 1.7k

—

Eddie had finally gotten Chris tucked into bed when his phone began to buzz, the all too familiar picture of Buck and Chris lighting up his phone, the one they’d taken and sent to him on one of their many zoo trips.

He smiles down to his phone as he accepts the facetime call, laying back on the bed in his parents’ spare bedroom.

 “Hey Buck.”

It was late, though Buck seemed wide awake, something like pain flashing across his face before it was replaced with a smile, his blues beaming to something off camera. Eddie raises a brow as Buck flips the camera, displaying a sleeping Jee-Yun over his lap; Eddie commits the image to memory instantly.

“We’re having a sleepover.”

Eddie has to admit that he’s a little jealous, though he’s glad to see his best friend safe after everything that happened, tucked in with his favorite niece for the night.

 Buck had texted him a series of messages earlier, giving him the rundown about Jonah and what had gone down; it made him sick. Eddie hated that he couldn’t be there with his teammates, his family, but he was where he needed to be for the moment.

“How’s everyone doing?”

“Hen and Chim checked out ok, but they wanna keep them overnight to make sure. Maddie said she’s gonna stay with him for the night.”

With the camera still on Jee, Eddie can see as Buck runs his fingers through her hair, brushing the stray pieces off her face. Eddie gets lost on the sight, almost forgetting they were having a conversation until Buck’s face fills the screen once more.

“So, how’s everything going there?”

“Better than I thought it would’ve actually.”

Buck nods, though he still seems far away, his gaze not quite meeting Eddie’s like it usually does, even through a screen.

“That’s good Eds. Guessing you and your dad were able to talk?”

“Yea, we uh, I think we’re gonna be ok.”

His relationship with his father wouldn’t change overnight, though they’d made more progress than they had in years, so that was something.

 “I’m glad. You look lighter Eds. You’ve been smiling more again.”

Was he?

“Yea, I um, I’ve been feeling a little more myself lately.”

They don’t say anything for a while, Eddie watching as Buck changes expressions several times, the camera shifting as he fidgets with his fingers beyond the screen.

“Hey, you know you can talk to me, right? I mean, if something’s bothering you?”

Buck does look to the screen then, those blues of his a little darkened.

“I—it’s nothing. Everything’s good here Eds. Just tired.”

Eddie doesn’t buy it for a second; Buck’s a terrible liar, especially with the way Eddie can read him, almost better than himself.

 “If you don’t tell me now, I’ll just have to fly home tonight and get it out of you in person.”

Bucks face softens again, his hand bringing the phone closer to his face on instinct.

“You would do that?”

He would; he wished Buck understood that without having to ask.

“Of course, you’re my best friend, Buck. Tell me what’s going on.”

Eddie doesn’t add that Buck means so much more to him than that; that’s for another night, preferably one when they’re not thousands of miles apart. Buck sighs dejectedly, biting at his lip before answering.

“She promised. She-she promised, but she did it anyway.”

Eddie doesn’t have to ask to know he’s talking about Taylor.

“What did Taylor promise?”

Buck scrubs a hand over his face, sitting up a little, making sure not to jostle Jee who’s still soundly resting over his chest.

“Hen and Chim came over to talk about Jonah…asking if Taylor could help them find some footage. It was supposed to be off the record, but I found her looking into it later and talking to someone on the phone about it. She-she promised me Eds, but I saw her on the news tonight talking about it anyway.”

Eddie has no idea what facial expression he makes, though he tries to keep his tone neutral; it wasn’t exactly a secret that he wasn’t Taylor’s biggest fan, and not just because she was Buck’s girlfriend—Taylor had given him plenty of reasons over the years.

“I’m sorry Buck, that’s shitty. She shouldn’t have violated any of your guy’s trust like that. I can’t say I’m surprised though.”

“Yea, me either.”

And Eddie—wasn’t expecting Buck to agree with him.

 “Did something else happen?”

Buck’s shoulders rise and fall as he lets out another heavy breath, fingers picking at some invisible lint on his hoodie.

“Well, I don’t think anyone’s forgotten about how we first met her, with those brownies and all, but she just—she always chooses work, her stories, over anything, no matter who she hurts in the process. All she cares about is having the ‘best’ story and getting the coverage out there first.”

That had become abundantly clear to Eddie over the years, though he didn’t know Buck had been taking note of it as well.

“Have you talked to her about it, about tonight?”

“She was still reporting when I called her, so I left her a voicemail. I—I’m just so angry Eds.”

Eddie knows Buck’s more upset with himself than Taylor; Buck always blames himself.

“Hey, you’re allowed to be angry Buck. What she did is wrong. She only had that information because of her tie to you, and she gave you her word she wouldn’t use it.”

Buck’s head slumps back against the couch then, his hand moving to rub over his eyes.

“She’s probably punishing me.”

“What the hell would she be punishing you for?”

“Because I kissed Lucy.”

Oh yea, that.

“Well from what you told me, she didn’t seem all that upset about it. I mean she could’ve left Buck, but she chose to stay.”

“Yea well I didn’t really give her much of a choice since I asked her to move in and she dropped her lease.”

Yea, Buck had definitely over compensated with that one, but again, Taylor chose to stay.

“You fucked up Buck. That doesn’t make it right for her to turn around and do this, especially when it doesn’t just affect you. I think we both know that Taylor wanted that story, and she was going to sabotage anyone to have it, even you.” Buck rubs at his eyes. Eddie can see the way they’ve turned glassy, Buck refusing to meet Eddie’s gaze.

“Can we—how’s Chris, and Abuela?”

Eddie knows it’s a deflection, an easy way out, one he gives Buck because he hates to see him in pain, especially when he can’t be there physically.

“Well, Abuela made tamales.”

 That instantly gets a smile from Buck, one Eddie is all too happy to see. They talk for a while longer, avoiding any topics that are too heavy, Eddie watching as Buck’s eyelids droop further and further, his soft sleep sounds eventually coming through Eddie’s speaker; if Eddie takes a screenshot that’s all too adorable, well, that’s his business. ~

It’s not until later the next week that Eddie sees Buck again.

  He’d gotten back from El Paso a few days after their conversation, Buck on shift the next couple.

  They were working together in Eddie’s room, patching up the holes so that the walls could be re-painted. Eddie would be lying if he didn’t still feel shameful about that night, but he was working on it. He was working on letting people in, Buck being one at the top of that list.

 “I broke up with Taylor.”

Eddie nearly drops the paintbrush in his hand, staring over to Buck with wide eyes.

“Are you ok?”

Buck seems surprised by his answer, though he continues on with his painting.

“Yea. I just, it hadn’t really been working out for a while, you know?”

Yes, Eddie had been able to come to that conclusion years ago, though he’d been too afraid to mention those observations to Buck.

 “How um—do you wanna talk about it?”

One thing Eddie had learned over the years with Buck was not to push; he would open up when he was ready.

Buck pauses his movements, shrugging his shoulders.

“She was upset, but eventually agreed with me. I told her she could keep the loft.”

“Are you gonna try and find a place with Maddie?”

Buck sets the tray and brush down then, finally looking over at Eddie.

“No, I um, she said she really needs to focus on herself right now, so I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”

“Yea, that-that makes sense.”

Eddie wants to offer his place, he does, but he doesn’t want Buck to feel obligated.

Buck looks down to the floor, his hands fidgeting as he finally looks back up to Eddie.

“I was wondering if um, if maybe I could stay here for a while, with-with you and Chris?”

When Eddie doesn’t immediately answer, Buck tags on, “I mean you can say no, I can uh, always find somewhere else, or—”

“Buck, of course you can stay with us. You don’t even have to ask.”

Buck does that little head duck, the one that’s all too adorable, smiling softly over to Eddie.

“You uh, you won’t mind my snoring?”

Eddie lets out a laugh, one that has Buck smiling brighter.

“Not as long as you don’t mind me having a mental breakdown in the middle of the night.”

Buck’s gaze turns serious then.

“I’ll always be here Eds, no matter what.”

 Why couldn’t Buck have said one of his ridiculous random facts instead of getting all sappy on him?

“Or you know, I could-I could be there for you.”

There. Two can play at that game.

A bashful smile creeps over Buck’s face, one that has his cheeks tinging red.

“C’mon partner, lets’ finish these walls so we can get to the fun part.”

Eddie easily agrees, picking up where they left off, the two of them working in sync as always.

They work on the room little by little, putting it back together, everything falling right into place. Everything fit together perfectly; the bed, their legs tangled together beneath the covers, Buck’s lips over his, just—everything.

As it turns out, ‘the fun part’ ends up being Eddie’s favorite step, Buck’s too. It was like having a sleepover of their own every night, one Eddie never wants to end.

tagging squad below, lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

tags: @buddiextarlos @swiftiediaz @mansikkaomenabanaani @confetti-cupcake @chimneymisteraprilhan @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @loveyourownsmiilee @corgiqueen14 @justsmilestuffhappens @prettyboyandthekid @honestlydarkprincess @zainclaw @reallysmartladymariecurie @djdangerlove @constructiononsunset @love-buddie @bifirefighters @perfectlynervousbeard @blaidddrwg1982 @buddierights

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911 fox #911 spoliers #911 5x17 #coda #domestic buddie #late night conversations #fluff #idiots in love #anti bucktaylor #just to be safe #this is soft y’all #i’ll put this on ao3 eventually #kel(s) writing

[theodora3022]

Opportunist

Summary: Idia Shroud thought he is content with just watching you. But when an opportunity present itself, he is not going to let it slip through his fingers.

A/N: Sort of a birthday gift for @187-mg !! This has been colleting dust in my WIP folder for a while now...Now it has seen the light of day! I love Idia too much and my brain just empties when I think of him...

Reader is gender neutral (Let me know if I missed anything)

Warnings: Sfw, Yandere, Unhealthy relationship, stalking, mentions of drugging, Idia being a hermit&creep (nothing new, just here to remind you)

Disclaimer: This is not healthy love and it is MEANT to make you uncomfortable!!

Idia Shroud has found himself having mixed feelings at the sight of your smile for quite a while. On one hand, he would wish to cherish that image in his memory forever (in sketchbook and cloud drive too but shshsh). On the other hand, Idia would sometimes feel beside himself whenever he sees you do it. 

This feeling is not hatred. The word “hate” is way too generalized for that feeling. He certainly does not despise you. Why would someone like him hate someone as wonderful as you? But intense unease does stir up in his chest, whenever he sees you flashing that look to your friends.

He needs to gather more intel to make an informed statement or decision.

All it took is for Ortho to offer you some help with textbooks and shopping, to let him lay down appropriate devices. Spying on you? That is such a negative term! Idia has neither the intention nor the reason to harm you! This...this is just to sate his little harmless curiosities towards you! Surely you, someone known for being considerate and understanding, would forgive him for such a minor intrusion!

“Aw, aren’t you a naughty one? It is no big deal, no need to apologize!”

Idia had convinced himself that is how you would react, although you never once expressed such attitude outside of his dream realm.

Before Idia knows it, watching your daily activities has become one, if not his most enjoyed pastime. His brother has made humorous remarks about his interest in you, ever since he discovered big bro’s questionable sketches of you. By having almost unlimited access to your life, Idia found himself desperately wanting to know more. Is his “innocent” curiosity getting out of hand? Maybe, but he is long past the point of caring.

It gives him the sense of companionship he so desperately longs for, without the hassle of a real friendship. One could argue there are other ways to achieve the same outcome, but sadly blue hermit has only so many options.

Yet you are none the wiser to his prying gaze.

Maybe you do know all along, and it never bothers you?

No.

What, is, HAPPENING??

Did you just opened the door, walked in humming, and took a seat on his bedside carpet? Last time Idia checked, his VR lens are charging in the corner.

“Ortho said you can help me with this alchemy theory. I been struggling to grasp it...”

Fortunately(or not), you quickly turn away from him to fetch the textbook-missing his embarrassed, flustered face expressions.

Eh????

This is moving way too fast! Ortho did not even give him the time to clean! (Read: put away some inappropriate material he owns)

However, Idia Shroud knows the rarity of an opportunity, when it is served up to him on a silver platter like this.

Does the pros outweigh the cons?

What are the pros of stopping you from sipping that special lemonade anyways?

"Thank you for the summery drink, Ortho! Now, shall we begin?"

There you are wearing that delightful, polite smile again. The thought of seeing that every morning for the rest of his days...

Begin, for sure.

Not the same for you and him though.

(Ortho: Nii-san just needs a push in the right direction! All done now I can go plan a wedding)

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere idia shroud #tw: dark content

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

I Wish I Could Quit You

(Brokeback Mountain Nielan) Excerpt 1

Less than three hours after I started the document...how about 3k words of The Tent Scene?

(cut to me wailing screaming crying etc about why can't I have similar bursts of inspiration for my ONGOING WIPS?!?! anyway it's fine I'm fine it's GRAND, I'M SO COOL ABOUT IT)

anyway, @wincestielfttfwin, @scarlet-gryphon, and @wishthatiwasnessiesgirl - here you go lol

--//--

The cold comes in as bitterly as the afternoon’s hailstorm had promised.

A little over an hour after they separate to go to sleep, the wind howls through the crags of the mountains enough to rattle the tent nearly off its pegs. When it dies down again in the darkest part of the night, its howling is replaced by the sound of Mingjue’s shivering just outside.

Xichen sits up, reluctant to leave the pocket of warmth in his sleeping bag but unwilling to let Mingjue continue this ridiculous crusade of his, acting like he isn’t freezing his ass (or really any/every other body part) off out there trying to sleep alongside the dead black coals of the evening’s fire. So Xichen sits up and he shivers even before he unknots one of the ties holding the oiled canvas together and parts it enough to just make out Mingjue’s hulking figure by the light of the moon.

“Mingjue,” he calls, sleepy around the edges. The shivering and chattering cuts off abruptly, guiltily. Xichen fights not to roll his eyes. “Just get in here.”

For a long moment, it seems like Mingjue’s going to pretend not to hear him; his stubbornness has already been made painfully apparent in the month or so they’ve been up here, Xichen wouldn’t be surprised if he stuck to his guns on this one and shivered through the night just to prove some ludicrous point. But in the end, after a long silence, he shudders to his feet and drags his paltry excuse for a blanket with him, enormous shoulders huddling inwards as he accidentally kicks their water jug with a tin-can clatter on his way back around the fire. Xichen makes short work of untying the rest of the knots holding the tent flaps shut with deft flicks of his fingers, and then there’s more shuffling and jostling than the poor tent should ever really be asked to contain as Mingjue hurries into the promise of warmth.

Xichen ties the tent shut again over and around Mingjue’s bulk as the other man tries to fold himself into the too-small space, and once it’s firmly tied against the weather he lays down again to scoot a little further into the one-man shelter in an attempt to give Mingjue enough room to actually manage it. It’s clear immediately, though, that such a thing is great in theory, but the reality of their sharing the space is just inevitably going to have to be more intimate than that.

In all their shuffling, Xichen ends up turned on his side, Mingjue’s enormous bulk pressed against him from head to toe. Literally. Mingue’s cold nose is buried in his hair, chest pressed to shoulder blades (closer with every breath, still touching on every exhale); hips to ass, thighs cupping thighs and ankles knocking, boots tucked up against boots where they both have to curl up in a space never meant to accommodate even one man their height, let alone two.

Xichen’s heart thumps hard in his chest as they settle.

He can’t remember the last time he’d been held, even for something as basic as warmth.

Perhaps never.

Mingjue’s hand, he realizes after a few more rustling readjustments as Mingjue attempts to get comfortable, is on the curve of his waist, too light and uncertain a touch for Xichen to have any hope of sleeping beneath it. This is an easier decision than the one to get up and untie the tent. 

He withdraws his hand from the depths of his jacket, his sleeping bag, Mingjue’s blanket tossed over both of them, to curl his fingers around Mingjue’s ice-cold hand and drag it forward. Up.

He curls his fingers around Mingjue’s and presses the man’s hand to his chest under the open side of his jacket. If Mingjue can feel the too-hard ba-dump of his heartbeat pounding against the press of his palm, under the layers of his shirts, he says nothing of it.

Kind of him, in that quiet way Xichen is learning he has.

Mingjue’s hand warms in his slowly until it isn’t just cold skin pressed to his, it’s work calluses and blunt nails; it’s dips and valleys between the tall, craggy ridges of his knuckles that Xichen cautiously explores with a fingertip — the mountains around them in micro, held gently in his one hand and traced in reverence.

In the strange place between sleep and waking, he doesn’t fight the urge to feel them with his lips, lifting Mingjue’s hand to his mouth just to brush them with the sensitive skin. He barely applies pressure, and Mingjue’s breathing stays even and slow behind him — asleep then, in the warmth, the quiet, the safety of a shared space with him? Xichen hopes so. He wants Mingjue to feel safe with him. There’s no one out here to look out for either of them but each other, after all. They have to trust each other for the length of the summer, at the very least.

Xichen presses his lips against Mingjue’s knuckles with more intent. His skin is rough from ranching, from calf-roping, from leather reins looped over them, from the sun that beats down on him every day of his life. Xichen lets the roughness of it catch on the soft give of his lips and he closes his eyes to better feel it reaching down into his soul, this stolen intimacy.

Lips, warm now and chapped from the wind, press against the back of his neck just above the stiff fold of his collar, too firm to be anything but intentionally done.

“What are you doing?” Mingjue asks against his skin, breath tickling and slinking its way down beneath Xichen’s jacket, his shirts, to shiver down his spine. Warmth pools low in his belly, unbidden and unexpected, but not at all unfamiliar.

At the volume he’d used, Xichen can’t tell what Mingjue is feeling, what he’s thinking.

He has to trust him.

He doesn’t have a choice.

Xichen doesn’t answer with words — what is there to say? He releases Mingjue’s hand and turns onto his back with as little jostling as he can manage, and suddenly Mingjue is right here, not shivering out by the remains of their fire, not an unseen solid presence behind his back. His eyes are open, glittering in the dim light of the lantern Xichen had left burning in the corner for the spare bit of warmth it throws off, and he doesn’t look like he’d been asleep at all during Xichen’s little exploration. He looks…wary. Afraid.

Xichen doesn’t think twice about leaning up to kiss him.

For a heartstopping, breathless instant that seems to last an eternity, Mingjue does absolutely nothing about it. His mouth is still against the insistent press of Xichen’s, lips softly parted in shock but Xichen doesn’t take the opportunity to slip his tongue between them. He nips at the curve of his bottom lip, hungry for something he can’t name, and that, at least, gets Mingjue moving.

Mingjue lets his mouth fall open wider around a gasp like a sudden dousing of ice water and tries to shove him away, but Xichen knows. He knows that Mingjue is like him. It has to be true. He can feel it, the ache of it, the empty yearning of it, and so he grabs Mingjue’s shoulders, his waist, and yanks him in closer until he can roll the other man on top of him, his bulk pinning him down in the tangled mess of their blankets. He slides his hand up from behind Mingjue’s shoulder to the back of his neck to yank him in for a bruising kiss this time, all passion with no finesse, and he doesn’t allow Mingjue the space to attempt to pull away again.

Xichen’s ridden rodeo his whole life. He knows that the best way to stay on a bronco is to move with it — to know what it wants before it wants it, to expect the way that it wants to protest, and to become, very briefly, an extension of it that cannot be thrown. He’s a damn good hand at it, he wins most any competition he enters, and as Mingjue wrestles him without seeming to know what it is he even wants beyond an excuse to touch him in the only way that’s ever been acceptable — rough, violent, hungry for something unnameable — Xichen rides it out with him until the urge to fight fades, and when Mingjue tries to pull away again Xichen lets him only because he’s doing it to trail desperate, biting kisses down the column of Xichen’s throat.

“Mingjue,” he breathes around the pleasure of it, the thrill of victory entwining with the sweetness of being touched like he’s something worth savoring. “It’s alright. It’s okay, it’s…we need it, that’s all.”

Mingjue doesn’t reply, apparently too busy where he’s biting and sucking at the juncture of Xichen’s neck and shoulder to use words (not that he’s a man of many of them anyway). But then again, maybe he does reply, in his own way. Xichen flushes at the sound of jingling metal, the feeling of a broad, firm hand down between their hips muffled through their layers that in moments, he knows, won’t be a problem anymore.

Mingjue manages to unhook Xichen’s championship rodeo belt buckle he’d turned his nose up at mere days ago, and when it’s out of the way Xichen arches his back to help Mingjue in his apparent quest to get Xichen’s jeans down his thighs enough for whatever it is he wants.

The wool blanket rumpled up beneath him is rough against his ass, the tender backs of his thighs. The denim waistband of his jeans is too tight around his knees, and Xichen yanks MIngjue back up to kiss him again with hard hands in his hair, both of them gasping each other’s air and their bodies rocking together without thought (at least Xichen certainly isn’t thinking about anything beyond what it feels like to have Mingjue’s broad hands gripping his naked hips tightly enough to bruise, and he can really only hope that the same is true for Mingjue).

When Mingjue turns him over Xichen hisses for the scratch of the unconditioned wool against his cock, hard and leaking already and far too sensitive for this. Mingjue presses him down harder with an arm laid across his back, an iron band of pressure that Xichen has no interest in trying to escape from.

They don’t speak as Mingjue unbuckles his own belt, nor when he shoves his own jeans down. Mingjue ducks in to bite at his ear before he leans up to spit in his hand and use it to ease his way, Xichen’s entire existence narrowing down first to the obscene and familiar rasp of a rough hand against much more tender skin, and then to the enormous sense of weight and pressure he barely has time to brace himself for before Mingjue forces his way inside of him.

It aches, too sharp, too insistent. Xichen groans and reaches back blindly with one hand, clumsy between all their layers and the angle and the way he shudders for the intrusion somewhere he’s never felt such a thing before (well that’s not quite true, but it’s far from the same when it’s like this so it’s true enough anyway). He finds Mingjue’s hip and wastes no time in sliding his hand under the other man’s loosened jeans and around the broad plane of his pelvis until he’s got as firm of a grip as he can hope for at this angle on his ass.

A single squeeze, a gasp of Mingjue’s name, and a strangled, “Please,” is all it takes to coax Mingjue into finishing what he started.

Xichen tries to muffle himself in his sleeve, in the blankets, something, but Mingjue buries a free hand in his hair to yank his head to the side so he can lean in to kiss him as they fuck and Xichen can’t find it in himself to complain.

It’s quick, and it’s dirty, and it’s everything Xichen has never allowed himself to want.

He comes on the horrible scratchy blanket with a bitten-off shout for the way it tears something loose inside him, something he already knows even now he’ll never be able to put back exactly as it was. It’s pleasure so intense it’s more pain than anything else, and it leaves him feeling raw and exposed as Mingjue’s hips snap too hard once, twice, and then on the third he stays there as deep inside as he can get as Xichen feels his cock jerk inside him. Within moments the place where they’re joined isn’t dry enough to burn anymore.

Mingjue pants in his ear and Xichen’s eyes prick with overwhelmed tears he absolutely will not allow Mingjue to see, but the other man isn’t paying that much attention to him anyway. He doesn’t pull out as he rummages around for something beside them. When Xichen turns his head with an effort he has to bite back a smile upon realizing that it’s the blanket from outside; Mingjue tugs it clumsily over the both of them laying there spent and too tangled up with each other to bother untangling again tonight. Xichen falls asleep with chapped lips pressed to his cheek and an ache in his hips he can already tell will keep him off his horse for at least a day or two.

Morning comes early, birdsong and the peculiar damp coolness of dawn both stealing their way into the tent. The sweat (and other fluids) from last night have grown tacky and cold; Xichen shivers in the gray dawn haze and tries to huddle into Mingjue’s bulk, seeking warmth. An arm curls around his shoulders, but through their layers of cotton and denim and leather it offers little more than pressure. He presses the cold tip of his nose to the little bare patch of Mingjue’s chest exposed by the open top two buttons of his shirt, and he thinks he might receive a kiss to the forehead in return, but if so it’s too soft and his mind too sleep-fogged for him to be sure.

He wakes again properly when bright sunlight cuts across his eyes with a blast of cool, fresh air that doesn’t smell like wool and sweat and sex, and he sits up on his elbow, blinking, to watch Mingjue unfold himself from the tent into the morning and stretch. Xichen glances down at himself, alone once again, to find that his pants are still around his knees, their combined mess dried to flaking trails of white on his hips, the insides of his thighs.

He lays there for long, hazy moments contemplating how the fuck they’re going to talk about this when getting Mingjue to say anything much at all that isn’t about the sheep or the horses is such a challenge (a welcome one, but a challenge all the same). When his thoughts bring him no closer to an answer, and his stalling makes it more and more likely that Mingjue will simply leave him there at their camp to go tend to the flock for the day, Xichen shimmies his jeans back up and makes his own way out of the tent, standing with a soft, startled groan for the expected ache in his body. It radiates from navel to knees, and he finds he can’t bring himself to feel anything but pleased by it.

“Listen,” Mingjue says from where he’s focusing on saddling up his placid mare for the morning’s ride. He doesn’t look up from the girth he’s tightening. Xichen tries not to think about how he knows the shape of the calluses that other leather straps just like it, wrapped around his fingers too many times to count, have left. “I’m not queer.”

The word — dangerous, taboo, electrifying in its naked honesty — sends a jolt through his belly, though of what emotion, good or bad, he isn’t exactly sure.

“I’m not either.”

Mingjue looks up at him then, his eyes unreadable. “It’s just for the summer.”

Xichen nods, something like hope flickering in his chest though he tries not to let it show.

“I’ve got a fianceé back home, when we come down in the fall. This’s got nothin’ to do with her.”

“Of course, Mingjue.”

Mingjue nods. Tightens the girth with a final creak of leather, his mare sighing her displeasure but otherwise making no complaint. Xichen watches Mingjue check over his pack job one last time, his lunch and his canteen in a satchel hanging off the saddlehorn, the shotgun strapped behind the high crest of the saddle at the back on the patterned blanket beneath it that he tugs straight next, ensuring there are no wrinkles in it beneath the saddle. It’s his usual pre-ride check, Xichen’s seen him do it plenty of times now and he knows all the beats of it.

Mingjue stops with one foot in the stirrup, and Xichen drifts a little closer when he doesn’t actually mount up, concerned by the sudden break in routine. Before he can ask, Mingjue drops his foot to the dirt again with an irritated huff and turns around so quickly Xichen jumps. He doesn’t have time to react before Mingjue has stomped across their tiny camp to grab him by the lapels of his jacket — leverage he uses to pull Xichen in for a kiss that stings his bruised lips and curls his toes as he grips Mingjue’s collar in both hands to hold him still right there, just like that, just for a little bit longer.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” Mingjue tells him, mouths brushing together with each word. He knocks the tips of their noses together once, a gentle bump that might even be affectionate, and then he’s gone again, breaking Xichen’s tight hold easily to sling himself up onto the saddle and nudge his mare into a brisk canter without a glance back.

Xichen watches him go long past the time he’s lost sight of him between the trees.

#the untamed fanfic #nielan #Lan Xichen #Nie Mingjue #brokeback mountain au #I Wish I Could Quit You #does the Tent Scene happen so soon after the hailstorm? I can't remember #It does now #as per usual we're here for vibes y'all. Sad (and horny) gay cowboy vibes.

[asha-mage]

The Warrior in the Woods [RWBY]

>:C

[Send me in an Ask with one my WIP titles from this post, and I'll post a snippet of it and tell you a bit about it!]

Listen. Listen. It's ON THE LIST okay. I just have to work more on my posted WIPs first. Also probably need to rewatch RWBY at some point.

This is my 'Jaune and Adam are stranded together in the frozen tundras of northern Anima circa v5 au and have to work together to survive, causing Jaune to learn Adam's messy history and get a new perspective on him, and forcing Adam to question a lot of his assumptions about the cruelty of the world now that he has his lowest point and finally encountering someone who seems to just be good in a uncomplicated straightforward way, but is a human which runs so hard against Adam's lived experience that he doesn't know how to deal with it' au

(I wonder sometimes if my inability to sum up my ideas in a succulent fashion is why so many of my works use references and song lyrics as working titles)

Anyways-

Jaune stood there, staring at Adam who lay on the ground, motionless. The snow had not stopped falling, if anything the storm was growing more intense as the moments passed and Adam’s body started to collect a light dusting of snow, his gray clothing quickly covered in a layer of faint sparkling white. Jaune could faintly hear the strident cries of the huge Strix, likely still circling up there somewhere overhead. And the huge Cereian would be  back for revenge as well, soon enough. Jaune’s best chance was to find shelter in the castle and wait them both out, while his Aura recovered. But if he had to drag an unconscious Adam on his shoulders while he did that, his chances of making it through the next few hours would go down sharply. But Adam’s chances of surviving if Jaune left him here, were nothing. You don’t owe him anything. He only worked with you to save his own skin, then only with his teeth clenched the whole time. Jaune told himself. He tried to kill you. He dropped you to your death. He ambushed you while you were fighting Grimm. He helped Salem at Beacon and Haven, and has probably killed dozens, maybe hundreds of innocent people. He hurt Blake. He hurt Yang. He wants to hurt everyone. No one is here to judge you, and if they were they wouldn’t. He’s a monster. But you are a Huntsmen. A voice that sounded a lot like Pyrrha’s whispered in the back of his mind. And Huntsmen do not leave people to die. Jaune exhaled and forced his feet to walk forward. He leaned over to dust off some of the snow from Adam’s body, and gave a start as he realized the blindfold had fallen the rest of the way off, exposing his left eye. The pale skin around it was twisted and gnarled red as if it had been burned, the darkest pieces raised into rough ridges that spelled something out. SDC. Schnee Dust Company. Jaune felt his skin prickle, his stomach lurching in horror at the sight. So this was why he had worn the Grimm Mask, and then the blindfold. Before Jaune could stop himself he had reached out to thumb open the eye, and instead of icy blue a pale milky white iris and pupil stared back at him, filmed over the way a corpse’s eye was filmed over, the whites so blood shot they seemed red. Jaune pulled back his hand as if burned and felt the urge to shiver for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold. He steeled himself, and gently as he could manage, rewrapped the blindfold around Adam’s eyes. He had chosen not to show this to the world, and Jaune felt the need to respect that. Then he lifted the other man into his arms, feeling a stab of surprise at how light he was, and set out to look for a place they could shelter, before the cold and the Grimm killed them both.

I've always had this weird soft spot for Adam/Jaune, because I genuinely think their dynamic could be fascinating and challenging to both characters, and also I am huge sucker for dark knight x paladin style relationships (Someone whose power is draw from anger and rage at a unjust cruel world, who can believe in their strength to see them safe, and a person whose power is drawn from an ideal, tirelessly working to create a world where their isn't suffering and pain and refusing to let either thing burn them down- delicious). I defiantly want to return to this work and flesh it out properly. Probably will once Vol 10 finally drops and I descend back into RWBY hell.

#Rwby #Jaune Arc #Adam Taurus #Matador #Rwby Fanfic #wip ask meme #about me

[josephtrohman]

sorry if you’ve been asked this before, would you be willing to spare some joetrick fic recs? i’m getting super back into them and the bandom so wanted to jump back in with some recs maybe!! (do you still prefer top joe? do you have any toppy patrick? if thats not your bag i don’t mind i’ll honesty take anything you think is well written atp 😁 ty!!!)

i’m sorry it’s taken me a couple days to answer this anon!!! finals got me both tweaking and sleep deprived at the same time somehow. also tho let it be known there is nothing to be sorry for at allllll omg, and there Never is, imagine my inbox as a safe warm place where i’m always here for ANYTHING. anyways, i have answered some joetrick fic recs earlier, here is the link to that post which has my crème de la crème joetrick fics, but i always have more in my back pocket!!! start with that other post’s list tho first for sure!!!! just bc they are THEE BEST. ok gonna put the rest under a break here (including my answers to ur question LOLL) :3

i truthfully have mellowed out when it comes to top/bottom preferences lol (i wonder if ur an og follower and saw my ask from like 2016 that i may have answered more intensely about preferring top joe and oh god the 'bottom patrick network' i was in way back when networks were a thing HDKDJDKDJSJ). i actually really enjoy top patrick/bottom joe in this day and age but there is like. none still. so i dont have much to offer u 💔 but im working on something and so is a fobtwt friend of mine so keep ur eyes peeled!!!

i combed my archive and found u my (very) slim pickings for toppy patrick. which imo is a disgrace and i Have contributed to this pattern of mostly bottom patrick w my fics BUT i hope to change this fact as i have a wip that’s just pwp top patrick/bottom joe maybe coming in the next several months LOLLLL (also my fobtwt friend as i mentioned). but i’ll start with the closest things i can find. i’m gonna break it down with the kind of adjacent to ur request fics First and then give a few more recs after :)

an exploration of the bounds of venus by disloyalorder. this might be the only top patrick pure joetrick smut on ao3 (that i found well-written enough to save at least <3). it’s got a heavy dose of mommy kink/mommy dom stuff so i guess if that’s not ur thing then u really will have to stay tuned for my fic ;) haha

wasted summer by terriblewritings. shoutout to the author for dropping it in my inbox!!! it has the mommy kink too and a liiiiiiittle talk of weight just in an appreciative way idk but a warning; it’s toppy patrick in the sense of dom patrick bc there’s no penetration, but it’s rly good!!! author says there might be more coming too ;3

token by gigantic. this one i found on total accident, i had been digging around on this user’s livejournal because they have two PHENOMENAL wentzman fics up (if u want those recs too lmk) but basically this one is joe on a gay sex mission lol, it is explicit but ofc when u get to the goods (aka the JOETRICK SCENE) it's all fade-to-black instead 💔 but still SOOOOO good so unbelievably well written!!!

i had it listed it in the other rec ask, but bdsm by heyginger has a brief mention of joe riding patrick (not explicit smut tho lol) AND of patrick tying joe up so it feels on the toppy patrick side for sure :)

also for good measure, though patrick is not toppy to JOE in these ones, there are two jeterick fics that feature patrick topping pete while joe does stuff to them etc just maybe to scratch a similar itch? lay your head down -- and feel the beat and two's company, three's just right both by likeasugarcube.

begging all ao3 writers to PLEASEEE write more top patrick/bottom joe joetrick fics i want to read joe get fucked like he deserves <3 ok anyways

and now here r some general recs that aren’t toppy patrick related :)

my tongue is my choir by coricomille. patrick is mute (mixon is their vocalist) and it’s a wonderfully written, very sweet fic!!!

capture the phrases by rosiedoes fic. patrick has a secret admirer in the form of anonymous post it notes. so good<3

expensive mistakes by rosiedoesfic. cute little fic about the insta posts in mania era that had very joetricky captions :')

the cure to growing older by rosiedoesfic. a au fic where joe and patrick have been friends since they were little kids, a very cute growing up together type story :)

message in a bottle by bunnytrohman. a sweet lil getting together fic sent during 2ourdust. saur beautiful and the world needs more fics set in the stardust era imo!!!

take a breath (i know what's behind that door) by thesecondshow. joe checks in on/takes care of patrick right after the we liked you better fat post. really really beautifully written <3 (hai mitch if u see this)

your secret's out by the_seventh_avenger. cute lil fic, honestly hard to summarize with a lil blurb without giving everything away but love it so much!!

alpha dog by bunnytrohman. puppy play joetrick. i needn’t say more READ THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

leaving it there bc looking at my bookmark list there aren't like a TON more that i even really could rec so i'll save those for if someone else asks in another 10 months <3 lol love u anon my inbox (and dms!!! if u wanna reveal urself but no pressure) is always open to discuss these fics or ANYTHING too 💖

#anonymous #asks #fic recs

[adamprrishcycle]

Just a wip I’m working on (that I’ve been working on since november) canon divergence pynch that is just an excuse to make them fall in love under diff circumstances and also an attempt to satisfy my need to dig into adam parrish’s brain and sort the contents into little piles. This has no context but if you like adam you might like this :) send post close app

He knew now that he wasn’t in a dream, not the usual kind anyway. The rainfall had been brief but thorough and the clouds had closed in making the summer night as dark as winter. There were voices somewhere close to Adam, behind doors and down corridors but the room he was in was silent. He stood over the basin in the corner with the shades closed and he’d filled it with cool water, letting his fingers slide through it a number of times before drying them somewhere on himself. He didn’t feel the wet as he stared into the gently rippling water, unfocusing his eyes and staring into the dark liquid.

So he was among the trees. And it was comforting like heavy velvet draped around his shoulders, perfectly weighted and soft to the touch. He wasn’t alone and this fact had his heart beating faster with anticipation. He felt the pull of the other being strongly. A deep, heavy tug that sat low in the base of his stomach, so warm and indulgent, he sensed his body taking a shaky breath. It had never felt quite like this before, perhaps because he was so close to the pure, raw energy of the ley line.

He plunged, leaving everything that was Adam Parrish behind. He told himself it was just for a moment, that he could get back to the conscious world but he had doubts about that and he was prepared to ignore them.

The trees knew Adam by name and he knew them too. It was a word that was made to be said in a hushed whisper. But he didn’t say it.

The energy from the ley line fed Adam willingly and he reached out with fingers made of light and dust and stroked something dark and coiled. It tensed, pulling away and for a moment he saw a flash of familiarity.

He saw his own face looking back at him, standing in broad daylight, frowning and stubborn and sad.

He pulled away too. He pulled hard, rocked off balance and he began to fall.

And fall.

And fall.

And fall.

When Adam hit the ground, he gasped in pain, the surge of it so strong that he saw stars and for a moment he lay there winded, his nerve endings alight with a deep seated panic that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Eventually he grasped a hold of what was going on. He remembered he was at 300 Fox Way in Persephone’s old bedroom and the daylight outside was dim as the sun began to sink below the rooftops before disappearing behind the distant mountain range.

“Well, that’s one way to wake up.”

Adam started at the voice, turning where he sat on the floor to look at the bed in the corner where Calla was now sitting in the gloom.

“How long was I– How long have you been there?” Adam asked, his voice sounding heavy and sleep-drunk to his own ears.

“About twelve minutes,” Calla told him, “luckily I didn’t have to use this.” She held up a large kitchen knife and Adam stared, open-mouthed despite himself. He hadn’t needed the shock of physical pain to bring himself back to his body. He’d fallen. Or he’d been pushed.

As he struggled to his feet, Calla stood up as well and she left the knife on the sheets as she approached Adam, reaching up without warning to touch his cheek. The gesture wasn’t aggressive, but Adam flinched anyway and pulled away from her, only for her to latch onto his wrist next, gripping firmly and closing her eyes.

“Quit it.” Adam yanked his arm free and backed up to the window. He saw the look on her face. Her eyes widened, then narrowed and she rested a hand on her hip as she studied Adam coolly.

“That hunger of yours can never be sated, can it?” She said, her tone accusing. “You’re never full up.” Adam’s jaw tightened and he tried to set his face into one of indifference, but from the way Calla straightened up, he knew he was wearing the face his father gave him.

“I didn’t say you could touch me,” Adam said as calmly as he could muster but there was venom beneath the surface, “this is none of your goddamn business.”

A rush of air came from Calla’s nose in the form of a single, humourless laugh and she smiled darkly. “What will you do with it, Adam?” She said his name with a sneer. “When you find this power source, what will you do?”

Shame was like a disease, something that no matter how hard Adam tried, he couldn’t be cured of and it gnawed at him now. The only defense his body had ever devised to combat it surged through him and he gritted his teeth, balling his hands into fists at his sides. He tried to shake it off, he took a deep breath but he couldn’t get a handle on it and he knew he needed to leave. Now.

He turned, nearly falling over a cat who was loafed just outside the door. He swore and the cat yowled its own protest as he stumbled and caught himself on the wall loudly. A face appeared from a doorway down the corridor. He ignored them, jogging down the staircase with his head down.

Out on the street, although daylight was failing, everything felt too big and too bright. Adam felt as though he’d been asleep for a long time and he’d just been rudely awoken. He ran to his car and instantly felt better once he was shaded from the afternoon sun but he could feel his heart beating in his throat, the thud of it making him shake all over.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, skull pressed into the headrest. He thought of the trees. His trees. He felt himself calming, his pulse steadying.

When he opened his eyes, movement caught his attention. There was a car parked further down the street and the driver was sitting inside. Adam pressed his cheek to the drivers side window, squinting into the side mirror to get a better look. The person was shadowy and nondescript but it looked as though their face was turned in this direction.

Adam felt watched, the invisible eyes of the stranger upon him like the sun shining through a magnifying glass onto an unsuspecting insect. Adam was that insect.

He started the engine and the car revved loudly as he gave it too much gas. He took off, reaching the speed limit and exceeding it.

He was running away.

He thought he’d stopped doing that.

#and maybe one day I’ll finish it #and post the whole thing #and you’ll understand wtf is going on #adam parrish #pynch #calla lily johnson #persephone poldma #wip #trc #the raven cycle #ronan lynch #I mean… he’s not in this but it’s still from a pynch wip #deleting this later when it has no notes lmao #no NO I will not #I don’t need validation…. #do I??

[lady-lostmind]

WIP Weekend

It’s WIP Wednesday weekend!! @starryeyedjanai thanks for posting so I could steal this.

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

wip filenames:

Steddie Big Bang Fic

V18

lamb4

coin6

Snippet from my BB fic under the cut. (Snippet technically not from the last 7days. But I haven't been allowed to post from this one so shh. Let me be excited.)

The hospital lights flicker as Steve rushes through the emergency doors. Eddie's body has gone limp in his arms and he hasn't been answering any of their pleas to talk to them, to keep his eyes open, to stay alive. 

"HELP! PLEASE HELP-"

The place is in chaos. Doctors and nurses running between patients, people gathered in large clumps trying to escape the disaster zone outside, coming to the first safe place they could think of. Steve spots an empty gurney, hurries his way over to it and gently lays Eddie down, hands hovering uselessly over the makeshift bandages they wrapped tightly around his wounds, now completely soaked through and dark red. 

Steve reaches a hand out and grabs the shoulder of a doctor hurrying by, eyes desperate and voice cracking, "Please. He's going to die. Please." 

The doctor looks down at Eddie's pale form and nods, calling over to a nurse. Steve watches as they wheel Eddie away, feeling his own eyes grow heavy as the darkness pulls him under. 

Steve wakes with a start. He's on the ground, his head cradled in Robin's lap. She's crying above him, hand running through his dirty hair soothingly, keeping her voice soft and calm as she talks. "Hey-hey. You're alright. The doctor said you had an adrenaline crash." 

Steve's eyes flit around as he searches for the rest of his people. He spots Nancy who shoots him a small smile, but no one else. He feels panic rise in his throat. "Where's Dustin? Where are the kids? Is Max okay? Eddie- Is Eddie…"

Robin shushes him, hands moving from his hair to cup the sides of his face, her thumbs rubbing softly on his cheeks. “It’s okay. They’re all…” She closes her eyes and takes a steadying breath, tears streaming down her face. “They’re alive.” 

Steve doesn’t miss the hesitance in her voice on that last word, like she’s very pointedly leaving off for now. Steve pushes himself up to sit between her and Nancy. Pulls Robin into his side where she turns to cry quietly on his shoulder. 

Nancy glances over and he sees her hand reach out toward him before she stops herself, like she’s not sure she should, like she’s not sure where they stand after…everything. Steve closes the distance between them, taking her delicate hand in his and squeezing her fingers reassuringly. Whether she loves him or not, wants to be with him, or not, he still loves her. He’ll always be there for her. He hears her let out a soft sigh of relief as she leans into him as well, finally slumping from her alert position on the wall. They sit like that for a long time, the three of them huddled together on the dirty floor of the E.R. that is still frantic and fluid around them, silently hoping everyone they love is safe. Is alive. That they’ll stay alive.

no pressure tags: @oh-stars @rindecision @eddywoww @attic-cat-blog

#steddie #wip weekend #wip #ao3 author

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 7: Sloppy

WIP: WASTE Pairing: Guetry x Oren Timeline: before shit went down, obviously CW: drug use, drug mention, sexual situations Rating: M Words: 845

***

Playing a show while zooted to oblivion on reaver rock has always been one of my favorite things to do.

Alec hated it, of course, but she always preferred me to be high under her supervision rather than to do it alone, or, worse yet, with Oren. However, despite spending the majority of my high times around her—on show nights, anyway—I still had to go back home to Oren.

And sometimes that was even worse than the drug.

One night in particular, I dragged myself through the front door of my Node apartment to find him sitting on the couch, a pipe already prepped for me and outstretched in my direction.

"Man, I dunno," I muttered, propping my beat guitar against the wall. "I'm coming down hard."

"This'll help," he said. "You'll sleep better."

I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face...my soft face, my pillow face that always puffed up when I was coming down. Sticky with dried sweat and warm, and gross. "Yeah, I feel like shit."

He handed me the pipe as I dropped onto the couch beside him and lit up.

"You didn't come to the show?"

"Nah," Oren said, wrapping an arm around me. He loved it when I was at my lowest, loved it when I didn't have the energy to be anything but pathetic. "I was tired. I'll be there next time, garçon."

He never was.

The smoke in my lungs numbed my skin and once the air started to feel like fur, I climbed onto Oren's lap and drowned him in lazy kisses, peeled his shirt from his body, and marked his shoulders with my teeth.

I'm taller than him, but not by much, yet it always surprised me when he could maneuver me by carrying me or laying me over the coffee table, or even the times he would fuck me against the wall or...whatever. Truly, the sex was nothing special. As it was happening the rock made it seem mind-blowing, which I think was part of the reason Oren would make sure I was high when we did it half the time.

Another reason was that he liked to test his products on me, too, but that's neither here nor there.

I left my room as common morning broke and started to put the rock away, head pounding and the rest of me sore from being a bit too rough with Oren. He came out sometime later to find me still trying to tidy up, which was slow going due to having just been body-checked by a passing lenayan dreadnought.

"No, no," he said, taking the box of rock from me and setting it back on the coffee table before I could stuff it into my stash safe. "This is the one I'm selling later."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," I groaned.

He grinned. "I could make you breakfast. How's that sound?"

"I guess." I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the island in the kitchen. "How much is this haul gonna net you?"

"Twenty-five easy," Oren said, bare chest puffed with pride as he baconed my eggs and sausaged my toast. I don't know what that means, either. "How much you need for that new drum set you wanted to give Alec?"

I waved the thought away, nursing the cold bottle and relieved the headache was on its way out. "I've got enough. I just got my deposit from the vineyard the other day."

"Right, right." Oren glanced at me from the stove. "That reminds me...how's Gisella been, d'you know?"

At the mention of my mom, my hand tightened around the beer and I turned a lethal glare onto him. "And why the hell do you want to know that?"

"I'm just curious."

"I told you to stay away from her. She's actually trying to get clean for once."

He shrugged. "Okay, relax. I just..." He grimaced and took the pan off the heat. "Well, this is, what, attempt five? You don't really believe it'll stick after so long, do you?"

The smell of food and the physical hell racking my bones were the only things keeping me from vaulting over the island counter and braining my boyfriend with the frying pan. That was a startling realization, but I didn't feed the intrusive thought too much. "You see why it's extremely fucked that her former drug dealer is pretending to be concerned about her trying to get clean, yes?"

Oren, sensing that I had cleared the pathetic stage and was no longer in the headspace to take his shit, nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, garçon."

I rolled my eyes and took the plate of food from him. "Come eat with me."

We shared breakfast, which helped return some of my strength to me. I showered and lit up again, which returned the rest of it, and then I left the Node altogether for an assignment I was given to take down an allegiant base on Voka.

And if you were wondering, yeah, my mom relapsed the next week. Wonder why.

#ockiss23 #WASTE #pair: Permanent Geometry #going out with a bang I guess pfft #as much as we like to pretend they weren't y'all #Guetry and Oren were together at some point lmao

[thetruearchmagos]

Chainbreaker

An Excerpt: Storm And Siege

Well! This exists! Seeing as most of my 'action' recently has been, uhh, not great in dire need of work, I decided to practice. So, here!

Tagging @lividdreamz @athenswrites @theprissythumbelina @caxycreations @thatndginger @hessdalen-globe @writeblrsupport @wip-nook @dogmomwrites

Here, there, and everywhere, the first impression that the fine soldiers of the 5th Penzstadt Guards would get of the city of Angphong was that its dominant state of existence was 'wet'. The fact they'd arrived in the monsoon season hadn't helped.

"Why don't they ever send us somewhere nice, ma'am? I could use some "

Private Franz Meyer was about three metres to her right, but still practically had to shout to be heard over the downpour. The grey, almost horizontal sleet of rain made him practically identical to everyone else, just the silhouette of his thin frame wrapped in drenched olive fatigues that clung tight to their bodies.

"Shut your mouth, Fritzy, or Sarge'll shoot you himself. If he can even fuckin' see us."

Corporal Haneul and her section were taking point at 1st Platoon's front, and their job of keeping a watchful lookout was made effectively impossible by the, according to the locals, once-in-a-decade monsoon that had descended upon the city the week before the Army did. Which was just peachy.

They'd been walking for half an hour when they arrived at their first objective, the cramped intersection of two wider streets hemmed in on all sides by rows of shop houses, burned out or turned to rubble. Just like the rest of the city, but Haneul couldn't shake the sense of something that had wormed it's way into her gut as her section of ten crept up towards the open space.

"Either side, stay off the center!"

Ten split into two pairs of five, the other half suddenly invisible on the other side of the street to their corporal. They weren't joking now, were utterly quiet though it wasn't likely that they'd be heard over the din. Keeping low to the ground they crept along either row of shattered homes, and Haneul had to turn away from looking at their hollowed out insides.

For a minute, then two, they were rewarded with nothing. Then.

Ratatatat!

They were right, and lucky. The machine gun's spray riddle the center of the street with bullets which flew here and there, though the section hit the deck and hugged the pavement anyways. Hanseul tore her head upwards to try and get a look, but was forced down by a hail of rifle fire that seemed to be aimed at nothing in particular, but was deadly all the same.

"Cover me!"

Corporal Haneul practically lept the five metre gap, and a hail of lead tore into open air as she crashed to the ground. Her comrades kept up a similar rain themselves, though just a bolt-action one and just as blindly fired.

"Hold fire, hold!"

Haneul stood to a half crouch, hiding behind a pile of rubble that had collapsed to lay itself across the street. Peering into the thick smoke she couldn't make out their attacker's position, other than that they'd come from the second floors of the row of shophouses on the other side of the small square, now a lethal killing ground.

"Ah, damn."

#my writing #writeblr #writing #writeblr stuff #original writing #my wips #Stay tuned for part two! Someday! If anyone cares enough to want it!

[crushedteeth]

Creepypasta fic WIP

(I’m not sure what direction I wanna take this in but the main gist is that it’s Toby’s pov joining the proxy gang and slowly losing his mind and fully becoming a killer. It might get a little introspective.)

About a week ago I burnt that house down with those bastards still inside. It doesn’t matter now, whether this is really what I wanted or not. All that matters is that I survived. That I escaped that wretched beast. I won’t ever go back. I wouldn’t go back not even if I knew Lyra was there waiting for me to get home, just like she would all those years ago when I would come home from school. Even if I wanted to.. the police were looking for me anyways.

It’s cold, not enough for it to snow but just enough that it’s clear autumn is ending. I walked, I hitchhiked, and rode buses all the way to Alabama. Once lush green trees lost all their leaves and it left the whole region looking dull and withered. I had finally stopped in some hick town. The roads lay dilapidated because the last time they’d been paved was when they were built.

At about 6 pm the sun was already down and I decided I should rest for the night because the next day I’d be traveling, as well as the next day, and the next day, and even the day after that. My life had just become one shitty road trip.

I walk into a filthy gas station restroom. It isn’t even attached to the main store and I had to make the embarrassing walk back out of the store and down the side of the building just to use those putrid bathrooms. I don’t even need to use the restroom. I just wanted to look in the mirror and pretend like nothing had changed at all. But things have changed. That’s apparent when I gaze up into the hazy smudged mirror to inspect the gash that now rests on the left side of my face. I’ve been shoddily covering it up with gauze and peeling medical tape. At first it upset me but now it doesn’t matter, I never felt it anyways. I never felt anything.

The gash is repellent, not just because it widened my mouth allowing view of my yellowed gnarly teeth, but because it was probably infected. It’s red and irritated creating the perfect spectacle of disreslish, and if anyone could see behind the gauze they shoot him an even worse expression than they already give.

I rub my eyes harshly until all I see is fuzzy grayness. I leave the restroom squashing a fat cockroach on the way out and I don’t even bother to gag or scrape my shoe off. I just don’t care anymore, about anything really, except surviving.

I realize that I’m walking with my head down so I look up. I stop for a moment, I look at those dreadful trees. They look ugly as ever, but just for a little I can pretend that I’m enjoying nature and maybe even the breeze if I could feel it.

I turn back to the gas station’s store. My eyes scan the posters plastered to the plexiglass, looking for any fleeting sense of amusement. I spot a flier for the town’s local bar which piques my interest. They never check ID’s in places like this and I could use a drink. I have 35 bucks left, I’ll probably only be able to afford a single crappy beer. A single crappy beer that will drain my minimal cash. Logically I should ditch the bar and find a motel, do something nice while the money lasts. But there’s a lot of things I don’t care about now and comfort is one of them.

There’s no sidewalks in the town and I stumble on roadside debris more than I’d like to admit but I make it to the bar after a crisp 5 minute walk. It’s not bustling but a familiar amount of people appear to be there. I imagine that they’re regulars and that most of them likely walk home because there are only two cars parked in the dirt lot.

As I walk up to the entrance I notice a man leaning against the bar’s wall. He’s a little over average height and he’s wearing a beige sort of jacket. He’s smoking a cigarette and two more burnt ends on the ground make me think the one he has in his mouth may not be his first. He doesn’t lift his head up or open his eyes to look at me but I still feel rude for staring and I look away quickly. I commit to my plan and waltz into the bar in a semi fluid motion.

Immediately eyes are on me, but as soon as they look at me they’re gone. No one in the bar seems to particularly care that they’ve clearly never seen me before so they go back to drinking and talking quietly.

All of the patrons are at various worn down tables scattered around the bar save for one man sitting directly at the bar. I sit two seats down from the man and I try not to look at him but I see his head turned towards me in my peripheral vision. He’s wearing a yellow hoodie and that’s just about all that I can tell from my limited view of him. He turns away and a tension lifts from my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized was there.

The bar’s staff doors swing open as a young woman walks out. Her hair is up in a bun and if I were to guess I’d say she’s probably the daughter of the owner. She makes her way towards me and asks me “Can I get you anything?” with a polite but disingenuous smile.

“Uh-a beer, please, cheapest kind you have”. I try to be as normal as possible, I try to sound like I’m actually allowed to be in here drinking beer. “Alright” she nods and turns around to the bar’s alcoholic supply and she begins to pour beer from a container that can’t be anything other than someone’s local craft. She swiftly turns back to me, placing the cup on the table.

“Holler if you need anything else” and then she’s off to attend to all the other likely more important customers. I look down into the amber liquid and I feel a little queasy, like I’m doing something I’m not supposed to. Well, I am, but I thought that being on my own for so long now would make me feel more independent. I’ve never felt more helpless and incompetent.

#crepypasta #fanfic #ticci toby #creepypasta proxy #wip #writing wip #cp masky

[aladaylessecondblog]

The Divine Plan (Chapter 2)

To newcomers: Skyrim Special Edition quest where you get the mask of Dagoth Ur, Dragonborn used to be a Sleeper, and she absorbed Alduin's soul. Akatosh abandons her to Dagoth Ur's influence, saying it is part of his divine plan, and since she absorbed Alduin's soul she will take on his role.

AU of my main Skyrim idea because I am queen of OC recyclers

Summary of this chapter: Dragonborn's mother gets a letter from her daughter that grows more disturbing with every paragraph.

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The Last Letter

Mother,

I am sorry I did not listen to you, and now we shall all pay for it. I would beg for your help but I know now that none can ever reach me. I have not much time left. Every time I sit down to write to you he seems to hold me back.

I found a mask. A golden mask, the only one whom we have ever feared...it whispered in my head, but I thought that since I was the Dragonborn, I could withstand it. That it could not affect me. That I was safe.

On she read, a feeling of cold dread filling her stomach and then the rest of her being. The handwriting changed--it only made sense, Sadrith had never been able to write a letter in one sitting to begin with, and this change in handwriting happened often, but this time--as the page progressed, it grew more scrawly and yet hesitant, as if every word was painful to write but was being forced out anyway.

I dream again, as I did what felt like so long ago. Somewhere, the worshippers of the Tribunal still gave praise to Almalexia, and in disposing of them I learned of an artifact they were in fear of. An artifact I should never have pursued. A thing of evil I should never have laid my hands on.

Mother, please, I beg you, do not come to Raven Rock. I beg you again, for I have fallen...I was falling the instant I laid hands on that accursed gold, but...but somehow, I forgot about that moment, until I was too far gone. It would be so easy to fall, and yet I struggle on, but I know it is fruitless. Mother, forgive me. Forgive me. I was weak as a child and he was able to take me as if by the hand, and lead me into his will.

I felt the presence of Akatosh, when I begged for help, and he only said that this, that I, was part of his plan. Then he was silent, and not even his shrines will answer me now.

What kind of god abandons his followers? Makes them part of his plan in this manner? What reward is this to a believer who has done his will again and again?

"Are you well?"

A voice ripped her from the maelstrom forming inside her, and she looked up, her aged brow wrinkling even more in concern. Before her stood the Wise Woman who took the place of Nibani Maesa once she passed away.

"No. No, I...I am not well at all."

She looked down at the letter in her shaking hands, and read the rest.

Dagoth Ur tells me I have no reason to fear, that I will be his instrument that brings Akatosh low. 'Are you not dragonborn, greatest of all dragonslayers? What could be more grand a dragon to slay than the first of the false gods?'

A final break and change in handwriting. This time it was as if the letters had been carved into the page in ink.

forgive me for the choice i make for if it is between he who deserted me and he who promises vengeance then i must choose the latter

if this is a grave he leads me into it is not so hard to lay down in

the sixth house is risen and lord Dagoth is its glory

She was up in an instant, unsure of everything--what she could do, how far gone her poor daughter would be when she arrived, but there was no question of staying away. Her baby girl, the gift given when she thought herself beyond childbearing years, her treasure, needed her.

And no force in Mundus could stop her from coming.

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I want to do a longer version of this but I do not need another WIP to ignore.

This is basically what I played on repeat as I was writing this when I posted it on AO3

#dagoth ur #dragonborn #akatosh #dunmer #skyrim #Youtube