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typicalopposite · 12 days ago

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we almost had it all

rated T | Trigger warnings: mpreg, blood, miscarriage

Based on this post

Tommy turns the little stick over and over in one hand while he holds the box up close to his face with the other. Damn tiny print… he thinks, still having to squint just to read it. Place a few drops on the test. A few drops?! Who has that kind of control… “Oh…” he says aloud, his voice echoing off the walls of the store’s bathroom— he was so anxious he just went straight there from the register.

He stares at the little guide doodle showing the mock tester using the syringe— that he didn’t realize was still in the box— to draw up a sample from a cup— that was definitely not in the box— and the syringe is used to manage the few drops. But he has no cup… and he is due at work in less than half an hour.

A lot more might be due if his suspicions are correct.

He groans and unfastens his pants.

Definitely more than a few drops later and he is pacing the small space of the accessible stall bathroom, the test is face down on the floor in the farthest corner from him, while his phone ticks down three minutes. Please be negative, please be negative, please be negative… he silently chants, knowing good and god damn well it won’t be.

The timer goes off…

He sulks over to the corner and picks up the test…

He flips it over…

He sees the two blue lines…

He barely makes it back over to the toilet to puke…

Working the few shifts after that… was awkward.

Or should he say coming up with every excuse to not do much work without letting Lucy and the rest of his team know he was on light duty… was awkward. His captain knew and that was all. So he made sure he was man behind for every call, under the weather for any heavy duty in-house work, and just claimed seniority for anything else that he deemed might be too strenuous for him.

He just wanted to tell Ev- Buck… first.

There had never been a doubt in his mind Buck would know about the baby. He just had to wait until they were both free, and by some miracle their calendar’s were still linked together on his phone… so he could see when they would both be off work. Not that having a clear visual on the day he was going to face the man he is madly in love with… but broke up with (because he is likely clinically insane) and broke both their hearts in the process… could really be considered a miracle; more like karma. Karma on him for putting them in the situation that this discussion would be anything less than an overly joyful celebration in the first place.

Buck was going to be joyful, regardless. Tommy knew that. The man loved children, and talked about having his own someday often. He was going to be thrilled. Hell… after the initial shock, so was Tommy. They were adults… they could act like it and figure out how to raise this kid together.

It’s the last shift before Tommy’s 48 off and Buck was already 24 into his.

The call came in right when the crew was about to call it a day and start getting ready to leave. Two-vehicle collision at the intersection of Victory Boulevard and Lindley Avenue. A semi and a firetruck. Truck driver was stable and three of the firefighters inside were injured but stable; one was in critical condition, requiring immediate air support.

Please don’t be them, please don’t be them, please don’t be them…

Perhaps it was wrong for Tommy to hold his breath and hope it was any other station. It’s not like his hope helped much anyway. “This is Captain Bobby Nash…” the tired, and stressed sounding, familiar voice came across the radio. “We need an ETA on air support, Firefighter Buckley has fallen unconscious. We need to get him medical assistance fast.”

Tommy’s entire world seems to start moving in slow motion, while he watches stuck on autopilot and can't do anything. He is off the couch and ignoring his captain’s concerned voice when he asks what he thought he was doing. Tommy would have liked to see him stop him from getting in that helicopter with Lucy.

He climbs into the cockpit, and pulls his headphones on, letting them know they’re on their way.

“Are you okay…” Lucy has asked a dozen times, when she’s not overly insisting Buck is going to be okay. The bird is high enough in the sky that it makes it easy to control, so Tommy assumes her questioning is due to his death grip being so tight on the controls that his knuckles are turning white.

“M’fine…” Tommy says, with his jaw clenched so tight he might be cracking his molars.

The truth? He’s not fine. Not just because he is flying into the unknown in regards to Buck’s fate and that scares the hell out of him… But also— he’s not fine because the moment he heard the distress call over the radio, his stomach twisted into the most intense knot he’s ever experienced and never let up.

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay… he repeats in his head the entire flight, and it holds two meanings. He listens as Bobby updates them on Buck’s condition— which is not looking good— and in return urgently asks their ETA. “F- Five minutes…” Tommy manages, trying his damndest to sound calm and professional, knowing he’s probably failing miserably.

His stomach twists and cramps, and he grits his teeth trying to ignore it. Then he feels it. A small gush of warmth between his legs… and he just knows.

He navigates the rest of the way, trying to not visually react to what is happening… They arrive at the accident, Buck is loaded into the helicopter, and Tommy lifts them back into the air. He doesn’t say a word, but he listens as Harbor’s medics work on his— fuck… he’s back to just being his ex again, it seems. Nothing tying them together now…

He blinks back against the tears threatening to spill and thinks… At least everyone will just assume he’s crying over Buck— which he is… of course— and not because he just lost the little piece of Buck he had thought he’d actually get to keep.

“Tommy…” Lucy tries again, and he sharply jerks when she lays a hand on his arm. They have been landed on the hospital’s helipad for a while now… Buck has long since been taken from the helicopter and whisked off through the double doors. “Hey… what’s— what’s going on?” Her brows are pulled so tight together they’re nearly touching; she looks so worried, and he can’t blame her… He’s sure he’s acting incredibly off.

“You’re gonna have to fly her back,” he eventually says, his voice hoarse and small, and her confusion only seems to grow. “I— I need to go inside…” She doesn’t question, just gives a quick nod, reaching over to squeeze his arm.

He opens his door and unhooks his seat and climbs out of his seat and Lucy all but screams, causing him to turn back towards her. He sees the culprit for her reactions is the blood he left behind on the seat and he stares at it for a moment.

“Oh that’s b- because—” His voice seizes upon his throat and tears begin to build in his eyes… and they are alone out here anyway, why hold them back now. “—because I just lost our baby…” He can’t break his eyes away from the blood stain. He doesn’t even register when it clicks with Lucy what he means and she turns the helicopter off and rushes out and around to him. She catches him just as his knees finally give out, and he cries in her arms until staff come out to check on them, ushering him inside to be treated while Lucy explains the tragedy within a tragedy that has happened.

Part Two

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #lucy donato #mpreg #bucktommy mpreg #pregnant tommy kinard #miscarriage

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thatmexisaurusrex · 6 months ago

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The First Evan

Hey, people! Never thought I'd be writing a Buck 1.0/Recently Out Tommy fic, but here I am. And it's a multichapter fic 😂 It's based on this microfic. This is also for @bucktommyweek's prompt "Date Night" (it will get to date night, I swear). I hope y'all enjoy! 🥰

The First Evan

Summary: Tommy Kinard recently came out to the entirety of the 118 during a drinking night... only to take a month-long vacation. When he gets back, there's a new probie - Evan "Buck" Buckley. And Tommy is doing his damnedest not to have a crush on that straight guy.

Excerpt:

“Shit. He did it again! I can’t believe the probie did it again!” yelled Chimney as he rushed out of the locker room. “He can’t be that far, let’s go!” said Hen as she ran to catch up with Chimney. Tommy. Had no fucking clue what was going on, but he was going to help. “What?” asked Tommy, genuinely confused, “What did he do?” “Fucker just stole the engine again for sex,” stage-whispered Chimney as he glanced up at the office to make sure Nash wasn’t watching them sprint outside, “He’s probably parked it somewhere nearby. Maybe if we find him quick, Bobby won’t notice.” Sex. He. He was having sex in the engine? “The probie is having sex where we work?” asked Tommy, a little horrified.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

#bucktommyweek2024 #911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy fic #tooth rotting fluff #buck 1.0 #light angst #mutual pining #tevan #tevan fic #kinley #kinley fic #the ally and the beast #my fic #The First Evan

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quinnynation · 1 month ago

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hiiiii!!! normally i’m a silent reader but i had an idea pop into my head lmao

artsy!reader with chris but they’re on live on twitch and she’s drawing things that the chat recommends??? i know it’s simple but i think it’ll be cutee

"such a cozy room" ᯓᡣ𐭩 chris sturniolo one-shot

pairing : bf!chris sturniolo x gf!artsy!reader

summary : cozy art stream with chris

warning/extra tid-bits : use of y/n, explicit language, pure fluff!!

word count : 560 + not proof-read

divider credit : pics from pinterest, divider from @saradika-graphics

"Okay chat, one more 'n then I'll probably head offline for the night." You smile, your sleep-deprived eyes glancing over towards your spare monitor where you had your Twitch chat pulled up; the messages flowing in at a readable rate- thanks to slow-mode.

"Chris is here?" You ask, seeing the various messages about your boyfriend lurking as a viewer. "Chris...get the fuck out of here..." You grit through clenched teeth- hoping your chat would understand the reference you were making.

Some did, some didn't.

Chris did though, he always understood your jokes.

"Draw me!!! 🧡🧡"

Chris' begging in your chat made you smile fondly and just as you were about to give into your boyfriend's pleas, the familiar sound of a donation came through.

You glanced up, readjusting the volume on your headphones as you read the dono message; "HIII Y/N I LOVE YOUR ART SO MUCH, PLZ DRAW A DEER FOR MY FRIEND CHRISTINA?"

"Thank you so much for the ten dollars!! Okay chat, we're drawing a deer for Miss Christina" You giggle, commenting on how sweet it was for the donator to commission a doodle for their friend.

Just as you began humming along to whatever indie song was playing through your headphones, you felt your phone begin to buzz against the wooden desk.

You wrinkled your brows together, pushing your headphones down and muting your mic as you picked your phone up.

It was Chris.

You sigh lovingly as you swipe to answer your boyfriend's call, putting the cellular device up to your ear. "Yes?" You ask, already sensing where your boyfriend's antics were headed.

"Nono, unmute yourself on stream!" Chris whined, already giggling at whatever joke was about to spill out his mouth. You fake a dramatic sigh as you unmute and put him on speaker; leaning closer to your mic and looking straight into your webcam.

"Chat we have Mr.Sturniolo on the phone, and he has something to tell you all." You joke, watching as chat instantly began spamming the ear and eyes emoji.

"I do!" Chris' giggles filled your ears, making your lips curve into a smile. "Chat, do you guys see how mistreated I am?!" He joked, earning a laugh and an eyeroll from you.

"Yes, yes, you're so mistreated..." You sigh, letting Chris go on and on about how you ignored his nice request. "In my defense, you didn't even say please." You mentioned, instantly causing Chris to shut up.

"Listen...I...." Chris sputtered for words, making you crack up. "So who's really mistreated now?" You joke.

The two of you bickered back and forth, you mentioning how often you doodle him off stream anyway- Chris pretending to be hated and ignored. You loved the playful banter, because it was just that.

Playful banter.

No risk of hurting each other's feelings because you both knew deep down that you respected Chris (and spoiled him with drawings) and vice versa.

Eventually, you transferred Chris over to discord so you could actually begin drawing the requested animal- which actually reminded you of your beloved boyfriend.

"To be fair, I'm drawing a deer- so that's basically the same as drawing you." You pointed out, waving your stylus around as you spoke.

"Oh I know, who do you think sent in the 10 bucks?" Chris laughed, instantly making your jaw drop.

"YOUR CHRISTINA?"

a/n : artsy!reader the star that you are

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 9 months ago

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Stay Awhile & Listen

Elks Chapter 5 Version 2.0

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Joel's back from patrol and he has a surprise for you. Chapter Warnings: an abundance of softness, joel has feelings and actually talks about them!, smut, oral (m & f receiving), cum swallowing, a lot of feelings and then a lot of filth, couch shenanigans, they're falling hard for each other folks. Words: 4,700 Headers courtesy of @saradika-graphics.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist “See The Changes” by Crosby, Stills & Nash.

Your week is a slow, arduous march towards Saturday and Joel’s return. You’ve never paid much attention to the passage of time when patrollers are gone–at least, not until Joel. You miss him.

Monday, you stay up too late playing the guitar Joel fixed for you. You wonder how far he is from Jackson. Tuesday, you help in the gardens, watering, pruning, and harvesting fruits and vegetables until the sky turns dark. You wonder if he has enough food. Wednesday, you sketch a young elk surrounded by bluebells on a salvaged canvas. You wonder if he’s okay and safe. Thursday, you join your friends at the Bison, but you find yourself staring longingly at the table where you first saw Joel. The whiskey doesn’t taste nearly as good as it does when you’re at home drinking it with him. You wonder if he has a flask and if he’s thinking the same thing. Friday, you toss and turn embarrassed by how eager you are to see him again. You wonder if he misses you too.

The library has been slow today, the residents are busier during the summer months, you relish the slow time, allowing you to organize and catalog your books.

You’re sitting cross legged on the floor of your classroom, rearranging a bookshelf when heavy bootsteps entering your room catch your attention.

You turn, eyes widening when you see Joel, he’s wearing the same green plaid shirt you first saw him in all those months ago.

“Joel,” you gasp, a large grin lighting your face. “Hi.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he greets, his voice even more gravelly than usual. He looks tired, more worn from the days out on patrol. You admire him so much for what he does to keep everyone safe.

You blink up at him, suddenly reminded of how big he is. He reaches down, offering his hand, and you take it, helping him pull you up.

His arms wrap around you in a hug that tells you he missed you just as much as you missed him.

“Sorry, I’m filthy–haven’t even been home yet,” he murmurs against your hair.

“You’re fine. You–I– missed you,” you sigh, inhaling the scent of him, he smells of Joel with a tinge of sweat and dirt. God, he smells good.

He chuckles softly. “I missed you too.”

You tilt your head up, failing at trying to hide your smile of excitement. He gazes down to your lips, slowly lowering his lips to meet yours, kissing you tenderly. God, how you missed him. His hands pull you closer, your hands grasp at his flannel-covered biceps. You sigh against his lips as his tongue licks against yours.

The clang of the schoolhouse doors interrupt your kiss. Laughter echoes through the halls as a child’s voice grows louder. Joel steps back with a mischievous smirk.

“I finished the book!” Claire, the daughter of your friends Robin and Peter, bursts into the room, holding up a well-loved copy of James And The Giant Peach. “I loved it!”

“Oh, that’s great news! I knew you would kiddo,” you say, walking over to high-five her. You greet Robin with a nod and a smile, she does a double-take when she spots Joel standing in the classroom.

“Yeah! It was soooo good!” Claire says excitedly. “What can I read next?”

You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Well, hmm. If you liked that one so much, how about you try another Roald Dahl?” You pull a paperback off the shelf with a friendly looking old giant on the cover. “The BFG, it’s just as fantastical and fun as James.”

Joel watches you from the same spot, you feel his eyes on you the whole time.

“It sounds so good!” Claire says, happily thumbing through the pages as you fill out the check out card. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Hope you like it kiddo,” you say.

“Come on, let’s get home so you can start on your book,” Robin says, gently taking Claire’s hand. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime,” you smile.

Joel stands silently, nodding a goodbye at Robin as they turn and leave.

“I should head out. I haven’t had a shower since Monday, and I need to go pick up something from Tommy and Maria’s. Do you still want to come over tonight?” The way he looks at you, hope rounding his brown eyes as he waits for your answer, makes your heart thud against your chest.

“Y-yes,” you smile. “Of course.”

“Great,” he says, cupping your chin and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Come over when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

You’ve never been outside the gates of Jackson since your arrival. You’ve lived with barriers longer than without them, so why would you ever sign yourself up to see what lies beyond the iron and wood confines? You know how little you understand about surviving out there—less, even, than your own students. You’re sheltered, and you’ve never doubted that. You’re okay with it. Joel? Not so much.

“You’ve never wanted to leave?” he asks, sitting beside you on his couch, his arm casually draped around your shoulders, the other hand holding a cup of coffee as he relaxes after dinner.

“Not really,” you reply, setting your empty cup on the table, “I’ve really had no reason, and it was never asked of me. I’m sure it’s really dumb of me.”

“Not dumb, just not smar–“

“Just say dumb, Joel,” you tease, turning toward him with a grin.

“Never call you dumb.” His hand reaches up, cradling your cheek gently. “I just think you should know the basics of how the world works outside here. Just in case there’s a problem. I don’t like the idea of you being unprepared. Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

“I do,” you say, resting your head against his chest. “They put us through a rudimentary training program here when I first got here. I know how to defend myself.”

“Rudimentary?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, it means basic.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You’re so smart, glad there’s people like you still around.”

“Well,” you say, tilting your head up to look at him, “you just spent almost a week in the wilderness protecting us and scavenging for supplies. I’m glad there are people like you.”

He hums, with a thoughtful look on his face. “Speaking of supplies, I’ve got something for you. S’why I wanted you to come over tonight. Close your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you, okay?”

“Is it good, Joel?” you ask, feeling the excitement build inside.

He laughs and kisses your forehead. “Of course it’s good. Go on, now do what I said.”

You close your eyes, placing your hands over them for extra measure. You hear him grunt softly as he stands, then feel his hand gently tip your chin up as he steals another quick kiss before walking away.

You feel giddy as you hear him walk away, you try to ascertain where he’s headed over the soft music playing, hearing his footsteps bound up the stairs. You don’t dare peek.

“Eyes still closed?” Joel shouts from upstairs.

“Yes!” you yell back, your voice sparking with excitement.

“Alright, comin’ down,” he says, his heavy footsteps thudding down the steps. “Don’t peek.”

“I’m not. Promise.”

You rock back and forth on the edge of the couch, feeling nervous excitement flutter throughout your body as you hear Joel take a seat on the coffee table across from you. You haven’t felt this type of excited nervousness in years.

“You can open ‘em,” he says softly.

You open your eyes, first focusing on Joel, sitting there with a shy, half-smile on his face. A small gray box in his lap catches the corner of your eyes. Your heart skips a beat when you realize what it is.

“How in the world…? Joel! How did you find this?” your voice peaks with elation as you snatch the small stereo from his lap.

“Traded Tommy for it. He ’n Maria need a crib, so I just signed myself up to furnish their kid’s room in exchange.”

“You didn’t have to do that! I don’t want to take their stereo. I can’t do that to them,” you reluctantly lift the stereo towards him, feeling guilty.

“They’ve still got a record player and besides, they were happy to help you out once I told Tommy it was for you,” he says, gently pushing the stereo back into your lap. “It’s small, but it’ll do until we can find you something better.”

You push down on the CD door and watch it pop open, you’re amazed the hinges still work. You had something like this back in middle school. It was blue, and covered it in butterfly and smiley face stickers.

“Joel, this is… wow,” you say, tears welling in your eyes at his thoughtfulness. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me. You just fixed my guitar last week, and now this?” You hastily wipe a rogue tear that escapes away. “I can’t thank you enough, this is so sweet.”

“No need for tears, it was nothing,” he wipes a tear from your cheek. “Really sweetheart, I wanted to do this for you.”

He takes the stereo from your lap, setting it down on the table beside him. “I still feel like I owe you so much for what you did in there,” he nods towards his studio. “For years I never believed beauty could exist in this world. People like you… they don’t usually survive. And then one day, I walk into my home and see you there with Ellie. I finally meet the teacher she wouldn’t stop talking about.” His voice softens, as he gazes into your eyes. “You were so beautiful, ’n when you left, you forgot your CD. I listened to it, selfishly, because I wanted to know more about you.”

His words wrap you in a feeling you’ve never felt before. You’re speechless, the moment and Joel’s revelation far too tender to break with words.

“All the songs on there I’d never heard, pretty new things you left that I got to hear. Then, you fall ’n I bring you in here, you tell me you painted that elk picture… all I could think about was how beautiful you were, inside and out. Just like your painting–hell–just like everything you do. Your classroom, how pretty it is, how nice you made it for your kids, how you painted the flowers everywhere.” His voice drops, low and warm as he spills his heart into your accepting hands. “After all these years of living the way I did, I needed you to bring something like that into my life. Every time you’re not around, I can’t wait to see you again. Damn near lost my mind on patrol because of how much I missed you.“

He leans closer, his calloused palm tenderly cradles your face, his thumb tracing circles across your chin. “I keep on thinking about that enigma word you called me.. but you’re the enigma for me. You still want to make this world better… and you do, sweetheart. I can’t believe you’re here, so caring, so soft, so smart, ’n so beautiful. I like when you’re near me, I like how you make me feel new after all this time.”

Your chest tightens and blooms all at once, warmth spreads across your body. Joel’s always a man of few words, but the way he confesses his feelings, the way his voice deepens as he tells you how he feels, it makes you want him even more.

“Joel,” you whisper. “I like being near you too.” You can’t think of anything else to say.

His face softens, relief and affection behind his gaze. “That’s good, sweetheart,” he leans forward and kisses you.

Your hands grab his solid arms. He’s so big and strong, yet his skin is always so soft and cushioned against your touch.

His tongue parts your lips, moving languidly as he explores your mouth. You taste the remnants of coffee left over on his tongue. The way his mouth fits against yours after his words of adoration makes you deepen the kiss grasping his arms tighter.

You need Joel, you’ve thought about last Saturday all week, tensity radiating through your body whenever you’d think about the feeling of your body pressed against his. Every night since, lying alone in bed, you’ve been tempted to reach your hand between your legs and soothe the want, but you refused yourself. You dedicated a whole page in your sketchbook to drawing his plush lips, and now they’re back on you.

You break away from the kiss, your breath ragged as you rest your forehead against his, your hands still clutching his arms. “I’ve been thinking about you… every night,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, your lips brushing his as you speak.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been thinkin’ about you too,” he rasps.

“I just… I keep thinking about how little time it’s been.” You nervously stammer. “Everything is happening so fast, and I like it, but… I don’t know. Is it okay?”

He rubs your knees as he thoughtfully muses. “It’s okay with me, if it’s okay with you. Time isn’t the same as it was, you take what you can get with the time you’ve got.”

You nod in agreement as goosebumps prickle along your legs from his touch.

“You were in here only a few weeks ago when you fell,” Joel looks down at your knees. “Still can see some of the marks left from the rocks.” His fingers press into your skin firmer, like he’s trying to contain himself. “You’ve been on my mind since then… sometimes you’re all I can think about. I know it hasn’t been long, but…” His hands slide up to your thighs. “I want you, ‘n I really hate wasting time.”

His lips crash against yours. He’s never kissed you like this– so tender yet so intense. His hands knead your thighs, with slow, deliberate care, in the same way he touched your knees. His tongue brushes against yours, pulling a moan from your throat. His touch is firm with tensity and yet he caresses you gently. Your arms wrap around his neck as you lift yourself off the couch. Your knees knock against the table as you straddle his thick thighs and sit on Joel’s lap, never breaking the kiss.

Two weeks, it’s only been two weeks. Two weeks of longing glances, shared stories over meals, quiet understandings, and feelings blooming like the flowers that bloom all around Jackson. You’ve wanted this since the moment you first saw him, and the desire only grew once he was no longer a handsome stranger. Now, you’ve reached an ignition point, and Joel is right there with you, holding the match.

His hands grab your hips, you can feel him against you, his pants tenting against your core.

Denim rubs against denim as you grind down on Joel’s lap. His mouth moves down your jaw, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your neck down to your collarbone. He explores you like he’s mapped his journey in his head.

You lean your head back, moaning softly when his hands slide up your torso, cupping your breasts. He kisses his way back up your neck, you reach for his jaw, feeling the bristle of his beard against your palms. His eyes meet yours, darkening with desire.

“Joel…” you breathe out, your voice trembling.

“What is it sweetheart?”

“I—I want you.”

“Heh,” a low chuckle rumbles as his forehead rests against yours. “I want you too, baby.”

Baby. A new name, nobody has ever called you baby. Your lips part with a soft moan. He catches it with his kiss, his lips tugging on your bottom lip.

His hands grip your hips, pulling you down harder against him as you grind, trying to soothe the ache between your legs.

His hand slips beneath your shirt, a calloused hand palms at the soft skin of your breasts. You haven’t been touched by anybody in over a year, but this? You’ve never been touched like this ever. Other men pale in comparison to Joel Miller.

Your shirt feels too hot against your skin, you grab the hem of it and pull it over your head. He leans back slightly, his eyes devouring your half naked body. He lets out a low, rumbled curse as you sit bare chested on top of him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. “Smell so sweet.”

His mouth trails lower and buries his head between your breasts, thumbs stroking against your nipples as they harden under his touch. His mouth finds your breast, plush lips sealing over your nipple, your back arches when he sucks it farther in. A needy whine escapes your lips at the sensation, as you grab his shoulders. The want in you begins sparking even hotter at his touch.

“Good baby?” he asks, his voice muffled by your skin, his lips never leaving your breast. Baby again.

“Y-Yes, want your shirt off,” you gasp out. “Want to feel your skin.”

He pulls back just enough and straightens, lifting his faded black shirt up and off, tossing it behind you onto the couch.

Your hands move instinctively, feeling the broad expanse of his chest. He’s so warm, you feel the raised skin of the small scars scattered across his body, reminding you of the cruelty this man who holds you gently has experienced. A smattering of hair across his chest leads a trail down his belly to his jeans. Your hands follow the path, fingers lingering at the waistband. His breath hitches as your hands move lower, your fingers unbutton and unzip his jeans.

“Couch, let’s move,” Joel hisses out. “Here, get up."

You rise on shaky legs. He stays seated on the edge of his coffee table, his hands holding your hips drawing you closer to plant a kiss on your stomach.

“Want to see all of you first,” he says, voice thick with longing. “Been thinking ‘bout this after that first day you were on my couch.”

Your cunt clenches at his words, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, and he’s barely even touched you.

Joel unbuttons and unzips your shorts, glancing up at you for reassurance. You nod, giving him a small smile that he returns. He pushes your shorts and underwear down, leaving you bare and standing in the middle of his living room. Dark brown eyes roam over your body fully on display for him, brows furrowed in concentration as if he’s trying to memorize every mole, curve, scar, and mark on you.

“Can’t get over how pretty you are,” he breathes out, standing up from the coffee table. He leans forward, taking your chin in his hand and places a kiss on your lips. “Now, sit on the couch for me baby.”

You slowly lower yourself onto the cushions, pushing your legs together to try to quell the ache in between them.

He stands, his large body towering over you, jeans slung low on his hips, his cock pressing rigidly against the denim. He bends down to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart, exposing all of you to him.

You can feel his breathing accelerate against you as his fingers glide over your folds, testing your response. You moan into his mouth as he dips a finger in and traces a line from your clit to your entrance and back.

You’ve imagined him doing this to you back when he was just a crush, just a handsome stranger, your enigma. You never imagined how thick his finger would be, how gentle his touch would feel, how his teeth would gently nibble against your bottom lip.

“Christ. You’re so tight and it’s just one finger baby,” Joel says, voice low and whispered as he looks down. “Can I taste you?"

You have no words, you grunt a yes as he lowers himself on the floor and pulls you forward, spreading your legs wider. You’re not even shy, being on full display like this, legs stretched open to expose your soaked cunt. You want him to see all of you, it’s all you’ve ever wished for since that first day you saw his handsome face.

He leans forward, nuzzling his nose against your core. His low groan vibrates against you when his tongue licks its way up and down the shape of you.

His dark brown eyes gaze into yours when he looks up from in between your legs. You can’t stop staring at him, almost in disbelief that Joel Miller’s tongue is swirling gentle circles around your clit while the lines between his eyebrows are set in determination, wanting to make you feel good.

Your hips begin to cant against his mouth. And when he adds a second finger, slowly pumping and stretching you, your fingers run through his hair, softly combing the waves as his fingers and tongue devastates you.

He’s proven to you numerous times how much he cares for you, but this? This is the ultimate way. This is the care you’ve always wanted.

It’s all so overwhelming. What the two of you are doing here in his living room, the build up over the past couple of weeks, the crush you’ve harbored for months, now culminating here on this very couch. The same couch where he once touched you so tenderly while he bandaged your knee. Now those same hands roam your body and grips your thigh, holding it wide open as he devours you.

Your orgasm climbs within you with each lick against your swollen clit, each rub of his beard against your sensitive folds, each twist of his fingers inside you. You’re close, so fucking close, and when Joel moans against you, your pussy clenches as it floods with your orgasm. He pulls his fingers out, his tongue licking down to drink you in, tenderly lapping up your wetness, like he’s savoring you and trying to stretch out the time he has between your legs. You moan his name as he leaves a kiss on your clit before pulling away, his mouth and chin glistening.

Your body tremors through the aftershock of your orgasm, legs still spread wide, mouth held agape as you pant for air. His hands rub up and down your legs, watching you in awe.

“Everything about you is too sweet,” he says with a shake of his head as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still can’t believe you’re real."

He leaves a kiss against your knee before bracing his hands on the couch, anchoring himself to stand. He winces as he rises and stretches his back out with a groan.

“You okay?” you ask, leaning back against the couch, noticing how his cock still lays hard underneath his jeans.

“Yeah, just a bad back… probably shouldn’t have been on the floor for that long,” he sees you grimace in guilt, “but it was well worth it.”

He settles on the couch next to you with a huff, pulling you into him, pressing you into his bare chest against yours.

“What about…” your hand runs up and down his thigh.

“Mm?” Joel kisses the top of your head.

“What about me… doing the same for you?” your hand moves to grip his bulge. “I want to taste you too.”

He groans against your hair. “Yeah?” his voice tinges with awe. “Not gonna argue with that sweetheart.”

You quickly rise from the couch, your body thrumming at the thought of having him in your mouth. Now you can show him how much you’ve thought about this moment.

“You just might be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen baby,” he whispers in awe as you stand between his legs. “S’not gonna take me long.”

Accepting his sweet words, you kneel down and tug at his jeans and briefs revealing his cock. It’s so large, just like his focus on you, just like the tension in the room, just like the orgasm he just gave you.

Your hand rests against his thigh, rubbing back and forth across the soft hair. When your other hand wraps around his thick shaft, your eyes follow the gulp of air he swallows travel down his neck. His skin is so soft here, so warm, you can’t wait to feel him inside your mouth. You slowly pump your fist down his length while lowering yourself to the floor.

God, he’s gorgeous. His cock twitches in your hand as you hold it, wetting your lips, you bend forward and lick the drop of precum that’s leaked the tip. You moan at the taste. Salt, sweat… Joel. He lets a low curse growl out of his mouth when you take him deeper into your mouth. He stretches your lips, opens your throat, and fills your mouth fully.

“S’good,” he croaks, his hand brushing a piece of hair away from your forehead. “So pretty.”

He groans when you swirl your tongue along his wide tip, leaving a kiss against it as Joel looks down at you with lust filled eyes of adoration.

He feels so good in your mouth, velvety and rigid, you begin to bob your head down his length, taking him to the back of your throat. The thought of how much his big cock will fill your cunt sends a flutter through your body.

He tangles his hand in your hair, lightly tugging and setting a pace as you suck him.

“S’good baby, close— m’close,” he groans, his hips rising and falling to meet your movements.

You nod and hum in agreement hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder.

His hips pull up, your name deeply hums out of his mouth as he cums down your throat. You swallow every drop, reveling in the taste of him now being a part of you.

“Jesus Christ,” he pants, shaking his head, as he pulls you into his lap, his hands wrapping around your waist. “S’amazing.”

You giggle, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You still can’t quite believe your luck to know and feel Joel the way you do now.

“So, about the CD player,” Joel’s voice breaks through the silence, “I’ve decided it comes with a condition.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, you come with me outside of Jackson for a day.”

“Joel…”

It’s too late for ultimatums, the only reason you haven’t gotten off his couch and walked home is you’re too comfortable laying against his body that’s currently only clad in his underwear while all you wear is his t-shirt.

“It’s important, it doesn’t have to be now, but soon,” he continues, his tone serious, like he’s overly concerned about your safety and wellbeing. “Please do it for me, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know what’s out there…”

“And I do,” he reassures. “I’ll keep you safe, it doesn’t have to be long… just long enough so if you ever do have to leave… it won’t be your first time out in years,” he urges. “Get your bearings ’n everything.”

“You think I’ll be okay out there?”

“I wouldn’t ask of it if I didn’t think you’d be okay.”

You nod softly. “I guess it makes sense.”

“S’pose so. Doesn’t have to be now but just, when the time is right, I think it’ll be good for you.”

“Okay… if it means I get to keep the CD player.”

He tightens his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “You get to keep the CD player darlin’.”

Neither of you moves for the rest of the night, falling asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. You don’t leave until morning.

Stay Awhile & Listen - Joel's Version

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #elks #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou joel #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel tlou

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rainchyna · 21 days ago

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˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓂅۰˚˚｡˚⋆ ˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓄹۰˚˚｡˚⋆ ˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆’

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓂅 🐆 ⋮ series

SOUR GRAPES (1996 — 1998)

⋆ starring: SHAWN MICHAELS ⋆ HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY ⋆ CHYNA ⋆ LITA ⋆ BRET & OWEN HART ⋆ features other WWF & WCW stars!

▷ watch here:

season one (complete)

Offer [36:19] ⋆ The Torch [21:59] ⋆ Heat [27:29]

Blurred Lines [11:11] ⋆ Wrestling War I [29:46] ⋆ It Begins [31:00]

First Defense [19:46] 🎄[1:30] ⋆ Wonderful Bullocks [25:38] ⋆

The Heartbreak Kid’s Plan [49:26] ⋆ Cherry Coke [36:40] ⋆

She’s Evil, Most Definitely [1:23:59] ⋆ Insanity Arc [26:19]

season two

Despite Everything [21:37]

more to be added.

BLACK SWAN (2014 — 2016)

⋆ starring: HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY ⋆ THE SHIELD ⋆ STEPHANIE McMAHON ⋆ features other NXT & WWE stars!

▷ watch here: trailer

more to be added.

˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓂅 🥥 ⋮ headcanons

CHANELLE’s DATING SHOW

episode one: “THE HEARTBREAK KID” — [1:35:48] ⋆ starring guest: SHAWN MICHAELS (behind the scenes)

episode two: “EXCELLENCE OF EXECUTION” — [1:20:00] ⋆ starring guest: BRET HART

episode three: “KING OF KINGS” — [1:16:48] ⋆ starring guest: HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY

episode four: “THE LATINO HEAT” — [1:36:17] ⋆ starring guest: EDDIE GUERRERO (director’s cut)

episode five: “QUOTE THE RAVEN” — [1:00:45] ⋆ starring guest: RAVEN

episode six: “OUT OF NOWHERE” — [1:22:41] ⋆ starring guest: RANDY ORTON

episode seven: “HIDE YOUR WIVES” — [1:21:51] ⋆ starring guest: EDGE (director’s cut)

episode eight: “THE CHARISMATIC ENIGMA” — [1:05:20] ⋆ starring guest: JEFF HARDY

episode nine: “WHAT THE ROCK” — [1:59:59] ⋆ starring guest: DWAYNE JOHNSON

episode ten: “ISLAND OF RELEVANCY” — [1:46:00] ⋆ starring guest: ROMAN REIGNS

more to be added.

˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓂅 🧸 ⋮ one shots

RARE COPIES ARCHIVE

tape one: “LEARN TO SHARE” — [25:00] ⋆ directed by: BRET HART & SHAWN MICHAELS

tape two: “DO NOT KLIQ” — [17:00] ⋆ directed by: SHAWN MICHAELS, KEVIN NASH, SCOTT HALL, HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY, SEAN WALTMAN.

tape three: “COME EXECUTE THIS” — [10:00] ⋆ directed by: BRET HART

tape three: “RATED ‘R’ SUPERSTAR” — [10:00] ⋆ directed by: EDGE

tape four: “PLAY MY GAME” — [10:00] ⋆ directed by: HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY

tape five: “PENT UP” — [35:00] ⋆ directed by: SHAWN MICHAELS

more to be modified and added.

#rainchyna #wwe x reader #wwe headcanon #wwe imagines #wwe fics #wwe smut #wwf headcanons #wwf x reader #wwf fanfic #wwf smut #wwe shawn michaels x reader #wwf shawn michaels x reader #wwe triple h x reader #wwf triple h x reader #wwe edge x reader

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sunburnacoustic · 18 days ago

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Muse - Q Awards 2007

Some shitty quality but fascinating pics of Muse with other musical stars of the 00s at the 2007 Q Awards, where Muse were seen talking to Shirley Bassey, Nicky Wire (Manic Street Preachers), Ricky Wilson (Kaiser Chiefs), Ian Brown (Stone Roses), the singer Mika (who apparently really likes Muse!) and Kate Nash.

And Muse themselves, triumphant winners of the Best Live Act award at 2007 Q's, beating Arcade Fire, The Killers, Arctic Monkeys and Kasabian.

Q Magazine did feature their awards in the Nov 2007 edition of Q, so I can sneak in a picture from there too (thanks Musewiki <3)

Here's what Muse had to say about it all (Q interview)

Rate your day on a scale of 1 to 10. Dominic Howard (drums): I'd say pushing eight. When we woke up hung over in Serbia this morning, it was about minus 5. But getting back to London pushed it up a few points and then winning this award pushed it up further again. By the time we get to the party later we'll hopefully have pushed it to 11.

This is the 3rd time you've picked up the Best Live Act Award. Not getting bored of it yet, are you? Matthew Bellamy (vocals/guitar): No, it's nice that we've bagged this again. We're not getting bored of playing live and we're not bored of people liking our performances either.

Your plane from Belgrade landed about an hour ago. you didn't get a nice early night in preparation for today, then?

MB: Not quite. Last night Belgrade was Bel-degrade. It got quite dark. I wasn't involved, but it included a transsexual called Pete. And a dildo. Pete was sat on your knee for quite a while Dom, wasn't that right? DH: (Solemnly) No.

Does visiting new cities give you more licence to misbehave? MB: Yeah, a bit. We've been lucky this year in that we've been able to go to new places - Eastern Europe, Asia, Mexico. Sometimes on tour you just cocoon yourself in your hotel room and keep your head down until gig time. being somewhere new puts you in the mood to get out more and meet new people, just to find new experiences.

So what's the oddest experience on tour this year? DH: Sorry, I can't get the transsexual out of my head now. Indonesia was interesting, mainly because I could've got killed. We'd taken a few silly things and we decided to check out some local bars in a really rough part of town. The houses were all corrugated iron and we had chickens running over the bonnet of the car, people banging on our windows. One of the guys got out of our car and he got shouted at, so we got out of there as fast as possible. But we were told later that we were lucky we didn't get shot, then robbed.

MB: Our tour manager got robbed by three ladyboys in a lift there, too.

Have you had any celebrity fans coming to the shows?

Christopher Wolstenholme (bass): In LA the kid for The Sixth Sense (Hayley Joe Osment) came to see us. I think he crashed his car on the way home.

MB: Paris Hilton to the LA show, too. But she left during Knights of Cydonia, which is the first song on the set. If we're offending Paris Hilton we must be doing something right.

The UK people will see your two Wembley Stadium shows in the summer as the pinnacle of the Muse live experience. How were those shows for you?

MB: I think we did our best. It's an amazing venue and the crowds made those shows. Big shows like that aren't just about the band, its about the whole experience and watching the crowd is part of the fun. It definitely gave us a taste for more of those big shows.

Any outrageous stage props that got vetoed by the council? Ten-foot-high robots and the like?

MB: Well, we wanted to have helicopters doing a balloon drop and circling above us with searchlights spotlighting the crowd, but apparently you're not allowed to have helicopters fly over big crowds in case they fall out of the sky and start mincing up. Which is fair enough, I suppose.

DH: We wanted to arrive by Zeppelins and drop down to the stage, but we weren't allowed to do that either...

MB: We're gonna make that happen next time. You can get these business Zeppelins now, like a private jet, so we could fly from gig to gig, descend for the gig and then get lifted back into the Zeppelin lounge.

So how do you go about topping Wembley? MB: We'll probably start from scratch again and build things back up with smaller gigs. DH: We'd like to do multiple nights in smaller venues. We might have more people onstage.

[Q mishears] Q: Small people onstage? DH: Yeah, more small people. Like Spinal Tap. No, it'd just be good to have the time to evolve the whole musical side of the show.

Is this tour ever going to end? MB: Technically, it's over in December. But there are a few more things that we've been offered for next year, so who knows?

The rumour is that you're going to headline Glastonbury again next year... MB: Ooh, that's a strong question! Very strong. Well, Glastonbury is a festival that's very close to our hearts. And it'll be amazing to play it again...sometime. But next year's plans have yet to be settled upon.

So we'll take that as a "yes" then? MB: No, don't take it as anything. DH: It's a maybe. CW: It's a flat "no".

Back to today: is there anyone here you really want to meet? MB: I'd love to say hello to Paul McCartney. But so would everyone here, I bet. We'll not be allowed near him.

Are you pretty sociable when you're at parties without musicians? MB: It's like when two dogs meet in the park: they eye each other up for a bit, then have a sniff around each other. So we'll see who's smelling OK later. Who's that? (Points at Damon Albarn posing for Q's photographer) Damon Albarn? (Unimpressed) Oh...

What do you want for pudding? DH: What's the obsession with pudding here? Someone else just asked us that. CW: We'll say something classic. Bread-and-butter pudding. Can't go wrong there.

So what are you doing next? MB: I have a meeting with out lawyers. Very rock'n'roll. But we'll be out at the party later. These days if we're in London it usually means we have to work, so one of the ideas in coming to this was to have a big night out.

Pics - microcuts.net archives | article - MuseWiki.

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sammyunhinged · 6 months ago

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Breath is of Little Consequence

11k | Rated T | One-shot | Read on Ao3

Anonymous prompt fill for 9-1-1 Gotcha for Gaza. Donations have closed but please consider donating to any of the many GoFundMes, fundraisers, or organizations like Save The Children if you can afford it.

Eddie kissed Buck once and then he kept making excuses to keep doing it, because kissing Buck was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

Featuring: first kisses, practice kisses, Buck and Eddie being idiots in love, feelings realization, and queer Eddie Diaz

Eddie downed the rest of his beer and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, a smile still etched on his face from laughing only moments ago.

“What do you mean the second time you kissed a guy, Chimney?” Hen leaned on the table, ignoring her drink which sat mostly full, the ice melting and condensation fogging up the glass. It was their favorite booth at the karaoke bar Hen and Chim loved and the only one that could fit them all comfortably. It was large and round and tucked in the corner of the room closest to the currently abandoned karaoke stage.

Chimney waved Hen away, trying not to dwell on the comment he’d made casually. “I said what I said Hen. That’s not the point here.”

“And I didn’t know this about you how?” She cocked her head and looked over at the man sitting next to her. Eddie shook his head fondly and fiddled with his now-empty beer bottle. He was amused, but every time he learned something new about Buck he acted the exact same way, shocked and vaguely offended he hadn’t been told the information before.

“It wasn’t exactly of consequence!”

“When was the first time you kissed a man?” The whole group was watching this conversation go down. They’d all gone out, which was rare. They could get Bobby and Athena to join only occasionally, Ravi was always picking up extra shifts to fund some renovation project or another, and kids always made making plans difficult. They only ever managed to all get together, outside of holidays or celebratory dinners at the Grant-Nashes, a few times a year.

“Uh, 2002? Something like that.”

Maddie looked at her husband and grinned, raising her glass. “Same year I kissed a girl.”

Chimney clinked his glass against hers with an acknowledging nod of his head.

Eddie couldn’t see Buck’s face from where he sat next to him in the booth, but he whipped his head around to look at his sister and Eddie could imagine him raising his eyebrows questioningly. Maddie just shrugged. “What? I was in college.”

“Every straight girl kisses other girls in college,” Hen said.

“That feels like a stereotype.” Buck leaned back and put his arm around the back of the booth, right over Eddie’s shoulders.

Keep Reading on Ao3

#buddie #buck x eddie #911 abc #911 on abc #911 actions #buddie fic

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sleepyfireball · 4 months ago

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A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 7: Harmony

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: Well, this is the end! Finally here. I cannot tell you how excited I am to finally have a completed story fully released. I really hope you guys all enjoyed the story and I love every one of you. Massive thanks to my duckies @lifesizehysteria and @cptn-nash for betaing this whole story and genuinely being the best support in this whole crazy journey. I never thought that fandom would bring me some of my closest friends, but I am so so thankful that it did. Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1 AO3

Francesca and John’s wedding was, in Violet’s opinion, perfect. They were so clearly comfortable with the small wedding, and with each other, it warmed Violet’s heart. Her doubts had vanished after her conversation with Francesca. She could appreciate that their love was a slow and sure one, rather than one that was explosive and quick.

Violet smiled to Agatha during the ceremony, and when Agatha had smiled and nodded back, Violet felt her heart become a little more full. Her season had turned out better than she could have planned, with two children successfully gaining a true love match, her friendship with Agatha now stronger than ever, and her own ventures back into the romantic fray.

Speaking of the romantic fray, her eyes slipped over to Lord Anderson, standing just behind Agatha, as he smiled softly at her. Violet dipped her head and smiled giddily, feeling her heart flutter, just a little, remembering the last time that she and Marcus had been in the drawing room together. She swallowed and hastily returned her gaze to the happy couple, pushing such thoughts from her mind.

As Agatha made her excuses to leave Violet alone with Lord Anderson, Violet felt her pulse quicken in her veins. She watched Agatha speaking to Hyacinth briefly, then heard Marcus’ voice speaking lowly in gentle conversation.

“It was a beautiful ceremony.” She turned her attention back to Lord Anderson, smiling at him as she nodded.

“I thought so,” she said. Lord Anderson smiled before he continued as if she had said nothing.

“Second only to the beauty of its hostess,” he said, and Violet almost thought he may have rehearsed his words before he said them.

Violet laughed softly. “You flatter me.” She felt a flush rising as she swiftly took a drink from her glass, desperately trying to prevent herself blushing even more. How was it that she could look at him and have entirely impure thoughts, but the moment that he spoke to her, she turned into a blushing debutante once more?

“I am sincere.” Lord Anderson continued, still watching her even as she turned away briefly. “And sincere in wondering, if you would be so kind as to, uh…” He trailed off. Violet watched, smiling, as he uncharacteristically avoided her eye contact. She felt lonely without having his warm eyes watching her and she sought them out once more. “Save a dance for me at the next ball?”

Violet blinked. And blinked once more. Had he– Had he just asked her, Violet Bridgerton, to dance?

“Uh, wha-- The, uh… Uh… Dankworth-Finch Ball?” Violet’s words escaped her as she desperately tried to pull herself together enough to be able to answer his question. “I… Uh, well…” Violet cast about the room, laughing slightly, hoping she would find the words she wanted to say written in the curtains. “Yes.” Marcus chuckled and Violet’s heart skipped a beat. “Ye-- Uh, That… That would be most adequate.” Violet finished feebly.

She took another sip of her drink as she exhaled, disappointed in herself for being reduced to stuttering. Again. She felt, rather than saw or heard, Marcus next to her as he also appeared to sigh in relief.

“Good. Very good.” He said as he huffed out a laugh, Violet hearing it as if from very far away. She heard her blood rushing in her ears and the tips of her ears pinked in embarrassment. As John clinked his glass and began his toast, Violet heard her own words to Francesca, from earlier that morning, repeating in her head.

“You know, when I first met your father… I could barely speak my own name; I was so taken by him. I stumbled over words most familiar.”

Had love really snuck up on her in such a way that she had not expected it, but welcomed it home with open arms anyway? Perhaps she understood Francesca’s own love better than she had thought.

“So, instead, I shall offer a few humble words to your family, especially your mother.” John’s words pulled Violet from her thoughts. “Lady Bridgerton,” I really must remind him to call me Violet now, we are family. “I see your openness reflected in Benedict, your charm in Colin, your wisdom in Eloise, and a brightness you have instilled in both Gregory and Hyacinth.”

Violet felt the blush warming her cheeks as she looked down, uncomfortable in the face of such brazen praise, especially from John, who always chose his words so carefully.

“In this moment, when I feel so much gratitude for my new wife,” John continued, “I feel it in equal measure for the remarkable woman who raised her.” Violet looked up to him, overcome, smiling softly as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “I thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart.” He finished, raising his glass for the toast.

Violet laughed gently as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She felt both Marcus and Eloise’s hands on her arms, taking comfort from them. She had certainly not intended to cry at another of her children’s weddings, but the emotions of the day, coupled with John’s heartfelt toast, had overwhelmed her.

Seeing her tears, John spoke up once more, smiling. “Ah. Forgive me. Tears were the last thing I meant to evoke.” As everyone chuckled, Violet breathed a sigh of relief as the attention moved from her.

“Hyacinth has been crying this entire time.” Gregory said, much to Hyacinth’s indignance.

“One day, you, too, will have a heart.” Hyacinth retorted and Violet could not keep the smile from her face in watching her two youngest bicker. At least, not everything would be changing by the end of the season.

“Mama, will you play a duet with me?” Francesca turned to Violet, a pleading smile on her face.

“Oh, heavens, when-- Now?” She chuckled awkwardly, torn between having one last moment to bond with the daughter that she was soon to be waving away or maintaining the last shred of her remaining dignity after being reduced to heartfelt tears. “I… Well, I am dreadfully out of practice.” She had not played the pianoforte since she and Edmund had played together, serenading the children. It had simply been too painful to play without him, but, perhaps, with her children, new memories could be formed.

“I believe the last time I nearly moved you to tears was when I first started playing.” Francesca said and Violet was no longer torn, deciding that whatever her mischievous child was about to do was worth it if it meant that she got to celebrate this time with her.

“She was not the only one. I wept in my room from the hideous chord combinations.” Eloise interrupted, prompting soft laughter from everyone and a gentle tap on the shoulder from Violet.

“Oh, haha.” Francesca dismissed her sister’s taunt, turning back to Violet and taking her hand, saying. “Thankfully, Mama did not abandon me.” Violet smiled, as Francesca continued. “And I shall not abandon you now.”

“Is that a threat?” Violet said laughingly, suddenly very nervous that Francesca would not simply let it go.

Francesca nodded wryly, and Violet chuckled softly, hearing Marcus echo her from where he stood beside her. Violet allowed herself to be dragged to the pianoforte, handing her champagne to Eloise. She felt her nervousness rise, and she took several deep breaths as she sat next to Francesca, who started their duet.

Under the watchful eye of her family and friends, Violet drew a little strength from Francesca, who had grown so much during the season. Violet could still scarcely believe that she was married, and would be leaving for Scotland all too soon. She laughed with Francesca as the chords clashed, releasing some of the nervous energy she felt, but, in following her lead, Violet found a harmony with her daughter. Her words with her from the start of the season echoed in her head.

“When you play with another person, there is a certain vulnerability which can be quite frightening, I would imagine. But it is worth it, once you find that person with whom you make an unexpected harmony.”

Perhaps her words had applied to herself this season as well, not just with Francesca.

As Violet played her duet, she was overcome with the overwhelming love for her children that always threatened to spill out. She had always tried to steer her children in the right direction, but it appeared that Francesca had managed to steer her, too. Francesca’s insistence for her own happiness had warmed Violet’s heart, to know that her daughter felt comfortable enough to stand for what she believed in, but it also opened Violet’s eyes to a new perspective. Violet looked up and caught Marcus’ eye as she played. He smiled, oh so softly, and Violet felt her heart fall a little more in love.

***

As Violet entered the Dankworth-Finch Ball, leading her children, she took a steadying breath. Tamping down the nerves that constantly threatened to arise was proving difficult. However, when Violet’s eyes settled on Marcus, she felt her nerves suddenly calm and explode simultaneously. The butterflies in her stomach took flight and Violet swallowed, to ground herself. As he noticed her, he excused himself and walked over to her family.

“Lady Bridgerton.” Violet would never tire of hearing her name in the rich timbre of his voice. “May we take a turn about the room?” Marcus offered his arm to her. Violet swallowed once more, before taking his arm in her hand. The moment she touched him, felt the warmth of him through his coat, her nerves finally settled. It was not explosive and powerful as it had been with Edmund; it felt like coming home after a long time away. A different love, Violet supposed.

“I would like that.” Violet said softly, smiling. She could feel the eyes of her children, watching her, but, for tonight, she put her worries aside. Her children were bright enough to realise that she was being courted, especially if Benedict’s parting wink was anything to go by. Violet entered the ball as a partner and not just a mother for the first time in 12 years.

***

Penelope’s speech had both worried and impressed Violet. She was so proud that she had finally managed to find her voice after so long hiding herself underneath the voice of Whistledown. Violet, however, worried of how the ton would react, but, seeing the ball return to its festivities, she realised she need not worry so much. Her children were growing up and she had always counted Penelope in that number, ever since her yellow bonnet had blown Colin off of his bicycle.

Marcus turned to Violet, his voice low. “Did you know?”

“That she was Lady Whistledown? Not until earlier this week. I received a letter, much like Her Majesty.” She turned to him, seeing a quiet look of amazement on his face.

“I am quite impressed, she seems like a very bright young woman.” Marcus said, looking over to see Colin speaking to Penelope.

“Indeed, she is. And, if I am not mistaken, Colin has finally realised just how lucky he is to have her.” Violet watched the pair as they began to move to the dance floor. She felt Marcus shift beside her and her attention turned to him, to see him offer his hand to her.

“May I have this dance?” Violet stood, for a moment. She knew he would ask, of course she knew, it was the primary cause of her nervousness tonight. But it had slipped her mind through the commotion with Penelope. She blinked, still staring at his hand. Before she realised it, she felt her hand in his, her attention focusing on the warmth spreading from his hand to hers. Her other hand rested on her stomach, as it always did, a shield between herself and the rest of the world. He led the way to the dance floor and Violet swallowed, pushing her nervousness down as best she could.

I have not danced in so long, what if I do not remember the steps? Surely people must be looking. A widow dancing with a widower, it is sure to -- Violet’s racing internal monologue was silenced by the feeling of Marcus’ thumb stroking over her hand reassuringly. He watched only her as they moved into position on the dance floor. He stepped in toward her, slightly closer than what was proper.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered to her. At his words, Violet felt herself relax slightly. She was not alone in this; every courtship took two people and she felt safe by his side. She had felt safe by his side for far longer than she was willing to admit.

As the music began, Violet remembered the steps for their dance. It all came back to her surprisingly quickly. While it had been 12 years, she had coached all of her children through their dance lessons and it appeared Violet’s own dance lessons were still embedded in her memory. Glancing over to the other couples for a cue of the next steps, Violet felt Marcus take the lead. She focused on him.

As they danced, she remembered the last time she had danced. With Edmund. She felt a wave of nostalgia and melancholy wash over her. In a perfect world, she would have been here with Edmund, dancing with him. However, he had passed on and Violet had made her peace with that.

As she danced, she was brought back to the present, instead of lingering in her memories. She smiled softly as Marcus spun her under his arm. She could not deny that she was excited to explore whatever this would become with Marcus. As the memories of dancing with Edmund flooded her, she allowed them to come to her, but not to overwhelm her. She wanted to stay in the present, with Marcus, enjoying her first dance with him.

He took her in his arms, the closest that Violet had ever been to him. She felt him behind her, solid and sturdy; safe. The longer that she danced, the less the memories of Edmund overwhelmed her and she truly began to enjoy herself. Of all her deportment lessons, dancing had always been her favourite.

Violet beamed at Marcus, seeing him return her smile with one of his own. She realised that she had fallen in love with that smile the moment that it had graced his lips. She looked up to his eyes, to see them twinkling with happiness. She spun underneath him once more, unable to hide her own happiness shining through, and as she danced, she found that her heart was making room for this new love for Marcus alongside her own, ever enduring, love for Edmund.

#bridgerton #violet bridgerton #violet bridgerton x marcus anderson #marcus anderson #agatha danbury #francesca bridgerton #john kilmartin #hyacinth bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope bridgerton #written by sleepyfireball #fanfiction #a quiet acceptance #my last time using that tag 🥹#bridgerton fic #violet bridgerton fic

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s-rosie · 7 months ago

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TIG CRACK

helllooooo!!!! i hope you like these hcs and please let me know how i can improve. tysm

nash and jameson did the wap dance at his bachelor party

one time, xander put on a really dirty song on (like mad at me by sexyy red) in the car and gray almost had a stroke

the brothers, ave, libby, and max once had a nerf war that lasted for 72 hours straight (avery and jameson teamed up and won)

avery’s go-to karaoke songs are obsessed by Mariah Carrie, NO by megan trainer, etc. and jameson was like “is this targeted?” when they first did karaoke

one time max was listening to a spicy audio and it accidentally connected to the car with just her and avery and now she blackmails her with the memory

when they were younger, nash paid xander in ice cream to keep quiet about a hickey he had

libby always has to pee on road trips like im talking every 30 minutes and everyone debates on leaving her at the rest stop

ave once had a dream (if you know what i mean) about jameson before they were dating, and she couldn’t look him in the eye the next day

grayson once failed cooking so bad, he had sauce splattered on his suit and had to awkwardly walk to his room to change (while everyone made fun of him)

xander and jameson will randomly break out in song like they are in a musical or sum

libby and max watch anime together

rebecca once yelled because she was mad and everyone stopped in their tracks because she never yells

nash loves legally blond because it was alisa’s fave movie before she was a lawyer and she got him into it

grayson watches the golden girls as a guilty pleasure

nash watches soap operas and always gasps dramatically at every plot twist

thea only drinks black coffee because she thinks it makes her ✨qUiRkY✨ (she doesn’t even enjoy it)

rebecca and xander hold the world record for largest blanket fort ever built because of a sleepover they had when they were kids

max says things like “im just not like the other girls ✨💖😝🤪🤩🎀💝” ironically

jameson knows swear words in almost every language

one time, jameson started to tickle avery, so she pulled out a swich blade on him

max and avery have a system where they cover for each other no matter what, no questions asked (it saved both of their asses more times then they can count)

libby, max, and avery make up code names for everyone (code name list on next post) (jameson eventually figured out who all the code names were for and now listens to the conversations and gets all of the tea and the girls have no idea)

avery is flexible, and one time max said sum like “ave, your flexible, right” and avery eas like “yeah” and jameson started to think some not-so-g-rated-things (nash then elbowed him and told him to knock it off)

libby once messed up so bad dying her hair, a chunk of it came out

xander once made a robot spider to scare jameson (becauae i hc hes deathly afraid of spiders)

those are my hcsss! i hope upu liked them. please give me tips on how i can improve and please give me hc suggestions and recommendations so i can make more. tysmm!

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #avery grambs #averyjameson #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #libby grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #maxine liu #max liu #rebecca laughlin #thea calligaris #alisa ortega

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nobigsecrets · 2 hours ago

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Prompt #44: Triage

@118dailydrabble | Rating: G | BuckTommy, Bathena

Tommy follows the 118 guys onto the deck of the rescue ship, glad to finally take a break from flying.

In the middle of the triage area Captain Nash and Sergeant Grant fall happily relieved into each other's arms. Tommy watches them fondly. He can't say he knows either of them well and it's surely not a romance he would've seen coming back in the day, but they seem very much in love. He longs to find that kind of love one day—

A strong hand lands on his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. Tommy looks up and straight into the brightly smiling face of Evan Buckley. His brain short-circuits and all he can do is smile back goofily.

#118dailydrabble #prompt: triage #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #love at first sight #911 #fanfic #steph writes

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nine-one-wanton · 1 month ago

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Prompt: Abandon

Rated: g | Gen: Henrietta Wilson & Old 118 Crew | for @118dailydrabble

Hen had heard the mayday call.

She had heard her captain give the order to evacuate.

She could have sworn she had locked eyes with the mother and two children she was forced to abandon from across the room.

When she talked about it with the counselor later, she couldn’t reconcile the sight with how black with smoke the space had been.

She collapsed into Kinard and Chimney’s arms once she’d cleared the building.

Hen had been blinded by smoke. Then by rage, watching Captain Nash callously taking notes in a little book after the incident.

She hadn’t known that he was adding names.

Adding names.

To a book where he was meant to be crossing them off.

[My series of these prompts on ao3]

#118dailydrabble #prompt: abandon #henrietta wilson #old 118 crew #jo writes fic

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forasecondtherewedwon · 11 months ago

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stop-motion poetry

Fandom: Masters of the Air Rating: T Word Count: 1295

Summary: the irony of loneliness / is we all feel it / at the same time - Rupi Kaur (Italicized passages are also Rupi Kaur poems.)

i tried to find it but there was no answer at the end of the last conversation

Everywhere was empty, like a museum. Crosby’s skittish fingers kept tracing around inside his pocket, and he finally realized what he was absent-mindedly feeling for: the snow globe.

In his other pocket, he had the intercepted letter. He was treating those words as Bubbles’ last to him, though… would Bubbles have shown him the letter? Maybe, if Crosby had asked. Maybe, because Bubbles might feel he was coming between Crosby and Jean if he didn’t. He could be funny like that. Whenever Jean came up, Bubbles made Crosby feel like Wendy regarded by the Lost Boys—an adult among children.

Wouldn’t you like to know, Bubbles had shot back when Crosby’d repeated the name of the plane. Suddenly, Crosby was the clueless one, Bubbles with the inside baseball on the mystery of women, high on the promise of She’s Gonna. Now, Crosby wasn’t so sure Bubbles was correct; why should he have liked to know? He had no inclination to know what Bubbles knew. What the sky looked like when all the planes in it were falling. Whether you felt an explosion that happened so close, so fast. How long it took to die from a thing like that. Nope, Crosby wasn’t interested.

He preferred to remember Bubbles the way he remembered the snow globe: a little something to carry with him everywhere he went. When the world slanted, something to be plucked from the tilt and, once held, leveled.

—

i hardened under the last loss. it took something human out of me. i used to be so deeply emotional i’d crumble on demand. but now the water has made its exit. of course i care about the ones around me. i’m just struggling to show it. a wall is getting in the way. i used to dream of being so strong nothing could shake me. now. i am. so strong. that nothing shakes me. and all i dream is to soften.

She recalled that he’d had too much to carry, heavy kit bag slung over his shoulder, but when he’d taken the provisions she’d passed him, he’d managed not to crush the donut against the mug of coffee he’d held in the same hand. Herbert had been gentle, that was what Helen recalled. Forward, yes. Obvious, yes—but gentle.

Some of them hadn’t taken the donut, but just about all of them took the coffee, unless they were very young and shied from the bitterness. There had been others before Herbert. Men who’d crossed a room to talk to her, men who’d announced their name and stuck out their hand. Helen had felt their palms on the small of her back when they’d danced. She’d seen their faces up-close, with the bravado gone, had understood herself an as object of lust or a tap on their watch, reminding them time might be running out. Sometimes, she’d only danced with them through words. Sometimes they hadn’t come back from the mission, and she’d wished she’d been kinder.

It was good though, that she and Herbert hadn’t kissed on the mouth. It meant she couldn’t miss that feeling. Missing the smile he’d given her the morning they flew out was plenty hard. Missing the scent of the oil he’d used in his hair, the rosy smudge of lipstick she’d left on his jaw during their dance.

Ever since Major Rosenthal had told her, since he’d said Lieutenant Nash had gone down, Helen’s chest had been a crater she covered over with smiles like old boards, stiff and creaking, threatening to cave in. She felt guilt, because Herbert had called her “Helen of Troy.” She hadn’t sent them, but she was too smart and too good at punishing herself not to figure that she had, in a way, launched those ships of the air. She represented the innocent, to them. Sisters and sweethearts. To fight for her or something like her, they would all go, go by the hundreds. One less, now.

At the next dance, Helen decided, marooned on the grass by Rosenthal, she would shake her head and stay at the table.

—

yesterday when i woke up the sun fell to the ground and rolled away flowers beheaded themselves all that’s left alive here is me and i barely feel like living

Dawn came. Bucky wasn’t convinced the sun came with it. Through the windscreen and the cigarette smoke trapped in the cockpit, the sky changed colour, definitely paler than night as it arrived before his itchy eyes, but if there was light, he didn’t register it. Like a telephone call in another room, it wasn’t for him.

He wanted to drink himself into the plane. Become so liquid that the seat absorbed him, that a thin trickle of whatever was left of him dribbled into the fuel tank. Then he could be burnt up. Sic transit Major Egan: He was an unpredictable drunk, and a more successful flirt than he’d deserved to be. He’d had a best friend, once. That man—that better man—was gone and nobody was lookin’ for him. Bucky was looking pretty damn hard in the bottom of this flask, but so far, no luck.

The horizon turned blue, which was bullshit. Blue was for eyes. Bucky laughed harshly at nature’s mistake.

“Hey, Curt,” he called over his shoulder, loose grin sliding all over his mouth. “Curt!”

But that had been a different today-is-tomorrow. Bucky blinked more tears back into his eyes, like he’d been doing all night. His smile withered. Too much water. Not enough light.

—

in order to fall asleep i have to imagine your body crooked behind mine spoon ladled into spoon till i can hear your breath i have to recite your name till you answer and we have a conversation only then can my mind drift off to sleep

It was usually that Curt’s body did what his mind would’ve urged him not to if it’d been paying attention. As the plane swept towards the ground and his body, shoved back against the pilot’s seat, couldn’t slow the descent, his mind took the controls and slowed time. He began to be able to separate the breaths in his rapid panting. He could think of stuff that wasn’t this, climb into the top turret of his own brain. He could see that it was a stupid fuckin’ idea to try to land a Fort with a belly full of bombs while his hands distantly and futilely kept trying to pull up and slow the glide. His body knew how it ended: in an orange ball, fire round as a cloud. His mind reached out and tugged up another reality like a blanket.

A blue hour, walking the wing, the air damp and cool, but it didn’t matter because he was warm from drinking, but not so much drinking that he couldn’t strike a taunting Bucky hard and sharp with a clean, swift hook, but not so hard and sharp that Bucky didn’t still smile after it connected, but not such a big smile that Curt was in danger of thinking it was real. The smile. The memory.

The plane battered through the trees.

“Oh god.”

He tugged up another place, another time. Dickie with a whole, smooth face. Buck’s voice coming down the line, callin’ Curt Bucky’s little spoon. Smilin’. Sleeping in a Scottish bed that smelled like wool and the fire that’d burnt down in the hearth. He’d been wound up so tight after the crash-landing, scoring those rows of cabbages from the earth. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to surrender to anyone, ever, including sleep, but sleep had come eventually.

“DICKIE—”

Yes, sleep had come.

#my writing #Masters of the Air #MotA #MotA fic #Harry Crosby #Joseph 'Bubbles' Payne #Helen (Masters of the Air)#Herbert Nash #John 'Bucky' Egan #Gale 'Buck' Cleven #Curtis Biddick

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