#wip the same coin

[akindofmagictoo]

secret third WIP 👀

@ellatholmes @e-lisard @klywrites much love for all of you <3

you will have to bear in mind a couple things: this is a revamp of an existing concept that never made it to first draft, and a lot of what i'm revamping is still very up in the air. oh, and also, this contains lots of spoilers because i can't talk out my plot without including twists.

but essentially our story follows Nyx, an assassin/soldier on behalf of a country at war; Albin, a prince of a nearby country which has broken off contact with Nyx's people some time ago ... and also the guy Nyx was meant to be killing at the start of the plot; and arguably Minerva, who is the main reason Nyx and Albin don't kill each other by page five.

Nyx's people are known as the Underworld. Albin comes from the Upperworld. there is some kind of physical separation; probably a big cliff. the Underworld has control of the underground water supply, which was cut off some decades ago (through no fault of their own). in response, the Upperworld cut off communication and has been refusing any interaction.

here's what I do have. Nyx is on an assassination mission, i think. her people are at war, invaded by [probably] underground shapeshifting monsters. they have been trying to call for help for literal decades, and no one's listening, so it's murder time. logic of "if this doesn't get their attention nothing else will". except ... she doesn't make it there. she's ended up in prison, accused of murdering the queen. she was here to do a murder, yes ... but she's pretty sure she didn't do that one.

she's approached by Minerva, a member of the Upperworld's court, who offers an opportunity to get out. she has to go on a dangerous quest to retrieve a stone of some variety, which according to prophecy will reunite the countries and end the war. Nyx likes Not Being In Prison, and agrees. except she also has to travel with Albin, the murdered queen's son. and also the guy she was supposed to be murdering. great. cool. fine. no one is happy about this except maybe Minerva.

(Nyx is a little bit happier when she is informed that if she kills Albin in the stone's location it will be helpful for her, she just has to persevere).

now, here is where things get messy (both in and out of world). Minerva is a shapeshifter, but she has defected to come help the Upperworld and Underworld to get their act together. or has she?

the stone would be useful for the war, but it's also within the stronghold of the shapeshifters, deep underground. will Nyx and Albin get there? or will they both die? is Minerva's claim that Nyx can sacrifice Albin for the stone legit, or has she perhaps said the same thing to Albin? is the prophecy even real...?

(short answer: prophecy not real, Minerva is trying to get them both killed and deepen the civil war so there's no chance of reunion and thus victory)

(however, tough luck for Minerva, Nyx and Albin grow to actually care about each other and manage to pull through, save each other on several occasions (after the occasions where they tried to kill each other), and reunite their two countries to drive out the shapeshifters)

primarily i have lots of feelings about Nyx and Albin as characters so i'll follow this up with a reblog, hang on.

[millportisntreal]

Hiii

I saw your wipw post, could I ask for a snippet from Two Sides, Same Coin? I love the jostwins

Thank youu :D

Hello!! Yes of course you can! Here is a bit of Nathaniel teaching Jean English in the nest (and Nathaniel doesn’t know French because he did not go on the run with their mother so it is Hard)

Nathaniel decided to start with the basics, ones that Jean would know or understand the easiest. Also, the ones that were most vital for him to know now that he, too, was property of the Moriyamas and a captive bird in the Nest. A rudimentary depiction of an exy court with the word "court" written in blocky letters was first, followed by drawings and descriptions of “goal,” “bench,” and “referee.” Jean huffed when Nathaniel wrote the word "racquet" next to a small image of an exy stick.

He pointed aggressively at the word. "Ce mot est français…racquet is French." The English came out sticky, as if the sounds did not want to fall off his tongue.

[malifiquemakes]

I've been gone a little while, so lovely to come back to over 500 followers, thanks everyone! Please have some wips as a token of my appreciation <3

[krikeymate]

Just noticed for something I'm writing (finally finishing off IIELYIWLM), but how perfectly matched are Sam and Tara's injuries at the end of 6. Tara's left arm is injured, and Sam's right shoulder. They can still stand together, right shoulder to left. When back to back, their injuries match. The way they match, two parts of one whole.

[regulusrules]

The journey of writing MBARBYC is truly changing my perspective on a lot of things. I'm simply loving the fact that, for the first time ever, I'm writing a WIP, and how it's fueling me to become consistent, not just in updates but in life as well.

Honestly I have always avoided posting WIPs like a plague, but now? I'm finding it freeing in ways I had no recollection of before. The fact that there is always something to go back home to do - the fact that there are a few handful people reading your fic, waiting for you - and the fact that you're building a little community of friends who are willing to go to the end of its line with you.

Writing stops being about validation or kudos in WIPs, and instead, you're more interested in hearing your readers bash you with invisible maces for what you're doing to their favourite characters, or giving you multi-coloured hearts for healing them. And in these few comments, these few expressions of love, you realise we're all just sides of the same coin, sharing our love for fandom in different manners.

Truly freaking awesome

[taketheringtolohac]

So since blaseball is ending, I’ve officially decided to amnesty all of my blaseball related WIPs given the fact that blaseball is incredibly difficult to learn about when it isn’t actually happening.

The first in my series of amnesty fics is about Parker being a clone specifically designed to be “better” versions of himself that his mother (the Coin) created of him so that he would be more efficient and also so that she could manipulate his memories to forget that she was ever his mother. Parker IIIII finds out about this after starting to experience flashbacks when Parker MacMillian is revealed in the Library’s Prehistory for the first time and discovers a series of records related to the cloning experiment in a classified section of Blaseball HQ. You can read it here!

[seedlessmuffins]

.

[navybrat817]

Navy's Nonsense: 4/24 - 4/30

God the Bounty Hunter took over my blog last weekend, lovelies. Let's return to my regularly scheduled nonsense, shall we? Or not. 😂 Planned fic below will be posted this week! Anything else shared if there's time is extra. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog so you don't miss out on any new fics, updates, or polls. 💙

Planned nonsense posted 4/27: Two Sides of the Same Coin (Bucky Barnes x Reader, The Winter Soldier x Reader)

Unplanned nonsense posted 4/29: So Innocent (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Unplanned nonsense posted 4/29: Long Night (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Unplanned nonsense posted 4/29: Take the Edge Off (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Did you miss last week's Nonsense? No worries! Check it out here. Love and thanks for reading. 💙

[ellierenae]

Got a new WIP under my belt that the FNaF fans are gonna LOVE

It's called Company Town Arcade and it's a dystopian orphanage where kids go to "play" and to survive- maintaining their own living quarters in order to earn tokens and play claw machines that dispense "goodies" like food, blankets, tents, and bottled water.

First paragraph (subject to change)...

The claw game sirens rang out in clownish delight, lights strobbing wildly as the girls crept between them. Pink. Blue. White, white, white. The kids were only sixteen, and this was their first job: restacking the chocolate ball prizes, buzzers blaring in their ear pieces when the stack fell off-center, when they would be too easy to win. "RESTACK! RESTACK! RESTACK!" it cried until they shoved the water bottles, the sleeping bags, the TV dinner prizes back, back to an unwinnable ledge. Then it rang and laughed and oozed with sadistic pleasure. "ONE token! You've earned ONE token! HAHAHA!"

[akindofmagictoo]

last line tag

i have a lot of old ones kicking around, but i also just wrote a bunch for my class (Secret Third WIP)

we shall count this as a tag from: @zmwrites @diphthongsfordays @talesofsorrowandofruin @memento-morri-writes

here is the new opening, still involving Nyx being a snarky teenager

Sundown marked approximately four hours that Nyx had been lying on the floor of a prison cell. Said floor was hardly comfortable and her head ached, and to add insult to injury, she hadn’t even had the chance to commit a crime first. The severe-looking Upperworlders who’d thrown her in here had said she’d been arrested for the attempted murder of their queen, but that was bullshit. She hadn’t been anywhere near the queen. But she was an Underworlder in the exact wrong place, and that was probably the real reason they’d arrested her. It was definitely the reason for the bruise under her eye and the scabbing cut on her lip. At least now it was nighttime, so it wasn’t blindingly bright anymore, which meant she could think.

tagging @ashen-crest @isherwoodj and anyone else who wants to play!

[sorryiwasasleep]

ive written myself into a corner with literally all of multi-chapter work-in-progress fics rn and lady inspiration refuses to visit :( so I can’t rely on her to power me through and ugh because I want to update my fics but my brain won’t cooperate :/

[millportisntreal]

hiii if you’re still taking asks two sides same coin please!!

-@you-know-i-get-itt

Absolutely Gia!! This is a continuation of the one I just posted here where Nathaniel is attempting to help Jean learn English after he’s taken from France

Nathaniel hesitated briefly, but continued to write and draw the little pictographs. He didn't know how much time they had before Riko came knocking, bored of just having Kevin to boss around after practice, and he wanted Jean to have a fighting chance. The Nest, the Master, the lines on the court all were scribbled hastily on the page, caught between horizontal blue lines. He tried to have Jean practice them out loud, but the French teen was as stubborn as he was talented.

"C’est quoi le but ?" His gray eyes bored into the side of Nathaniel's head, but the shorter of the two met his gaze head-on. He did not have to understand French to read body language, to understand that Jean had not yet been broken by two years of brutal training, punishment, and humiliation. Nathaniel couldn’t decide if the feeling in his gut was jealousy or pity.

[subtlefires]

waking up at 2am to jot down hm ideas turned into yet another very painful dual pov scene where seven and dazeah unintentionally hurt each other while trying to be more like the other

[lucky-fy]

For the Laicion nation (aka, me and three other people)

I had this illustration commissioned (a big thank you to @lunehowls) for my werewolf AU Laicion fic (still a WIP).

The general pitch is as follows :

AU in which Laios never got to meet his sister again, putting his life on a whole other path, a more desperate one. A military deserter with barely a coin to his name, Laios hitches a ride on a boat to one of the elven continents, where he learns about magical tattoos that binds one’s soul to a wolf’s, effectively making them artificial werewolves. Illegal magic be damned, this feels like the answer to… everything.

In the process, he learns about the existence of an illegal fighting ring in one of the elven cities, where beastmen gladiators gather. Freshly tattooed and without anywhere else to go to, Laios decides to head there, where he meets Lycion, an elf and artificial werewolf gladiator. If they first bond over a simple shared meal, by spending time together (sharing the same room in the barracks, maybe the same bed? gasp) they find that they have a lot in common, notably a shared distaste for the body they were born in, a dysphoria partially remedied by becoming a werewolf.

They bond :)

NB: I commissioned another piece, go take a look :D

[tonia-aaaaa]

Hello!!!

Welcome to Tumblr first of all, been following you on Instagram for a while and glad to see you here too :))

Second my boyfriend and I literally love your art so much, every time either one of us saw a new post from you on our feed we'd excitedly send it to each other or say "BABE WAKE UP NEW TONIA POST JUST DROPPED"

Third, I'm not sure if you're taking art requests at all but I was wondering if you'd be willing to draw Martian (GrianxMartyn) being sweet and cuddly?? I understand that ship isn't some people's cup of tea and it's okay if it's not yours!! We just love the ship and love your designs of the two and I thought I'd shoot my shot!! :>

Either way I hope you have a wonderful day!!! :D

Hi!!!!!

First of all, thank you! :D

Second of all, you have no idea how happy "babe wake up new tonia post just dropped" makes me

And third of all... youre not gonna believe this.... but i actually LOVE Martian. Severly underrated ship methinks. They are so friends-to-enemies-to-lovers, we're-not-so-different-you-and-i, two-sides-of-the-same-coin!!!!!!!Grragahahhahahgrr!!!!!!!!!!!¡!!!!!¡!! Ur honor i care they.

I have some WIPs of them that i plan on actually finishing sometime soon, so stay tuned for that ;)

[streetlightyeri]

false god ; boone

“i know heaven’s a thing, i go there when you touch me.”

[aka, boone is good at using a camera for more than just storm chasing]

w.c: 3444

warnings: 18+ MDNI. smut (oral, piv, breath play? in the lightest sense of the word, bandana used as gag).

notes: no beta, not even proofread lol i just needed to post this, i'll come back and edit at a later time. this is a piece from my wip about boone for my twisters/zach bryan song fic series (scott's is in progress as well a part two for "oklahoma smokeshow" for tyler). this was supposed to be fluff, slice of life moment, idk what happened <3 and as always, the fmc has a name but no descriptors bc i cannot personally write in 2nd person

-

She surprised him while they were on a chase. She was going to be in the state for no more than a few hours - when he headed out tomorrow she would be too. But she was able to get the information of where the crew was staying from Dani with the promise she would keep her mouth shut about it. Dani must’ve talked Tyler into letting them crash at a nicer place for the night because instead of a motel that Rowan was sure would give her hives, she pulled up to a very respectable 3 star chain hotel. She made a mental note to buy that girl whatever her heart desired.

Rowan pulled her hood closer around her neck and her hat farther down onto her head. She locked her vehicle behind her, keeping her head down as she walked to the side entrance Dani propped open for her. Once she made it in, she kicked the rock out the door jam and made her way to the elevator.

Rowan tried to calm her nerves as the elevator rose to the 4th floor. Her heartbeat picked up once the doors opened. She followed the signs to room 435. It was a corner room. Now Rowan was certain Dani had roped everyone into the plan; otherwise, a room like this would’ve been a coin toss or a game of pulling straws to see who got it. Her face burned at the thought.

But nevertheless, she knocked on the door. Boone’s voice came from the other side. “Yeah?” He was expecting someone from the team to respond, but heard nothing. He called out again. Rowan knocked in response.

She heard shuffling before the sound of the lock clicking. When the door swung open, she looked up, met with the sight of her boyfriend dressed in the same clothes he must’ve been wearing that day: jeans, a wifebeater, and a bandana tied around his neck. She could see his camo button down discarded on the end of the bed and his hat on the nightstand. A smile grew across her face as the moment started to click for him. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the room, double checking no one was lurking in the hallway before shutting the door. He turned the lock again and also flipped the deadbolt now that she was here.

When he turned back to her, he nearly tackled her onto the floor, throwing her hat to some corner of the room. But he managed to get his bearings before they lost their balance. His lips found hers; she could feel his smile as he kissed her. He walked them to the bed, keeping his hand behind her head to absorb the impact as her knees bent and her back hit the mattress.

He paused to pull back and look at her again, making sure she was real. “Hi, baby.”

She let out a giggle. “Hi, Boone.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, but stopped when her hand came up and pushed his shoulder back slightly. He knit his brows when she patted the bed next to herself but complied. She sat up to be eye level with him. He couldn’t believe she was here; his hands found her hips, sliding up her sweatshirt to rub circles on her soft skin. She wasn’t any better; she was trying to find her words but the way he was looking at her with his big doe eyes, like she was the best thing he’d ever seen, was making her brain short circuit. A haste kiss from him jump started her again.

“I have a . . . gift, of sorts, for you.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Is you being here not it?”

Rowan felt her cheeks heating up, her hands dropping from playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She stood up and walked to her duffle bag she discarded blindly when he tackled her. She reached in and brought out the small box she wrapped in a haste and walked back over to him, leveling him with a serious gaze. “No one can know about this. Absolutely no one.”

“What is it, baby?”

“Promise me you will never show anyone this. Ever. No matter what.”

“I promise.”

She sat back down and handed him the box. He made quick work with the paper, his jaw dropping when he saw the picture on the side of the box: a camcorder. Nothing fancy, absolutely no bells and whistles. But Boone always had a thing for cameras. He’d started messing around with them back when he was enrolled in community college, fresh out of high school, still trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do with his life. There was nothing more exciting to him than getting the perfect shot.

“You know how hesitant I’ve been about, uh,” she cleared her throat, “filming. But I thought about it. With something like this, there’s no cloud it gets uploaded to, no internet required. Nothing anyone can hack. It’s not the best quality, but it was the best I could find that I was comfortable with.”

He dropped the box on the bed next to him and grabbed her head in his hands; they were so large his fingertips met at the back. “Rowan, baby, please tell me you know I am fine with never recording us? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I let go of that fantasy a while ago. If you’re not comfortable with it, then it isn’t hot anymore.”

She nodded through his grip. “I know.”

He kissed her again, letting go of her with a whoop of excitement before he opened the tape on the box with his pocket knife. He pulled out the recorder and inserted the SD card, flipping open the screen, taking a sweep of the room. He played around with the settings, adjusting it for the room’s lighting. He was so confident in his knowledge of the camera. In seconds he got it looking more like 720p instead of the 480p she saw when using it in the store.

He flipped the screen so he could see himself as he recorded. He introduced himself to his imaginary audience while Rowan rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his torso. He used his free hand to run a hand down her hair. He lowered the camera to capture her face for a second. “And this is my beautiful girlfriend.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “She is the reason I have this camera. I think she’s embarrassed, but don’t worry, I’ll get her used to showing her face.”

She pulled back and hit his shoulder with a laugh while he winked at the camera. He flipped the screen and turned to film her, catching the perfect angle where the setting sun cut through the curtains to leave a beam running across her face. “She loves me so much she surprised me. Can’t believe she kept this a secret.”

“I was so close to spilling! You kept texting me about how much you missed me! And I had to lie that I wasn’t in Oklahoma. I even had Dani working with me to cover it up. I would send photos from the view outside my apartment that I’d been saving up for her to show you. I was scared you’d get suspicious when I kept refusing to FaceTime.”

He laughed from behind the camera. “You are a terrible liar.”

She faked a gasp, “Take that back!”

He smirked, “I think I can think of a way to make it up to you.”

She pulled her legs to her chest and looked straight at the lens of the camera, “Well then, why don’t you show me?”

He deposited the camera on the nightstand, throwing his hat elsewhere to make sure he had enough space to get the entire bed in the frame. One he was certain they’d be visible, he tore his shirt off and made quick work of hers. He lifted her bridal style to put her correctly on the bed. He untied his bandana and tied it around her neck; he liked seeing her wear it. He hovered over her on his arms, his hair and gold chain dangling into her face. She felt her face and chest flush. No matter how many times they found themselves like this, Rowan always felt like Boone was admiring her like a precious stone.

He shifted his weight and used his right hand to run his thumb over her red cheek. “God you’re so beautiful, baby.”

He undid her bra and he moved to sit on his haunches, admiring her from above. Her chest rose and fell as his brown eyes raked over her entire frame, leaving her skin burning in their wake. His calloused hands ghosted over her waist so lightly, her body jerked from the tickling sensation. His two index fingers ran under the waistband of her jean shorts; his eyes flickered up to her for permission. She kept her eyes stilled on him as she nodded. His eyes flickered over to the camera; he could see her side angle perfectly, surrounded by plush sheets while he hung over her.

“Is the camera okay?”

She nodded again, not looking at it.

“Need words, baby.”

She opened her mouth but hesitated. In seconds, he had the camera in his hand, about to snap the screen shut and stop the recording. Her hand reached up and wrapped around his wrist. “It’s okay, Boone.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re tense. We’re not doing it if you’re not 100% with it.”

She tightened her grip on his wrist when he tried to turn it off again. “I am. I promise. If you’re okay, I am. I’ll get used to it.”

He hesitated. He didn’t want her doing this for him.

“If I wasn’t comfortable with it, I wouldn’t have bought the camera.”

“You’re allowed to change your mind, no matter who bought the camera.”

She moved to intertwine her fingers with his, bringing his knuckles down to kiss them. “I’ll tell you if I change my mind.”

He pursed his lips, “Promise?”

She smiled up at him, “Promise.”

She helped him set up his perfect angle again before he rided her of her shorts and underwear. His hands ran up and down her side, taking count of every inch of skin. He rememorized every mole and freckle. His lips found hers again, making his way slowly down her neck, shoulder, the valley of her breasts while his finger twisted at her nipples. She felt him smirk against her skin when she gasped, hands reaching out to grip the sheets. He left bites on the smooth skin of her stomach, a place he was often drawn to. A place he could mark that no one would know.

When he made it between her thighs, he groaned. “There’s my girl.”

Rowan bit her bottom lip to stifle the sound that brought out of her.

Boone’s hands tightened on her hips; she could feel each finger digging into her skin. He pressed sloppy, wet kisses to the inside of her thighs. Her toes curled in anticipation, legs locking to try and prevent them from tightening around his head. Not that he would’ve cared. He had spent weeks warming her up to the idea of sitting on his face so he could finally feast like he wanted. She would never forget the way he locked his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her core connected with his mouth while he ate her out like his life depended on it, like he wasn’t destroying her for any other man ever. 

When he finally connected his mouth to her cunt, he moaned into her, making a shiver run up her entire body as her hands moved to grip his hair. Her fingers twisted in his locks, making him let out another satisfied noise. His tongue reached out to lap at her core, taking in the sweet release and relishing in the taste. One hand moved to splay across her stomach, lightly opening and closing to keep her down and to scratch at her skin comfortingly; the other moved to leave bruises of his finger prints on her thighs before one finger, then two, then three pushed themselves into her. Her rapid breaths and whines filled the room as her hips jerked from the way he ate. While his fingers curled into the spot he knew made her see stars, his tongue circled her clit with unrelenting determination.

He glanced up at her, seeing her head thrown back with eyes screwed closed as he increased his pace. He knew he was doing good when he felt her body tensing up below him, her legs beginning to shake. She gave a hard tug on his hair when he pulled away and let out a stream of cold breath onto her clit before attaching his hot mouth back to it. She came with a cry of his name, tensing around him as her blood seemed to run through white hot fire. Her thighs clamped around his head, spurring him on to continue his feast as he rode her through her high. He managed to get his right hand free and bring it up to her mouth, tapping her lips which she opened without question. He shoved them in, so long he almost triggered her gag reflex. She instantly closed around them, sucking herself off of him while effectively silencing her from their neighbor’s ears. He used his thumb and pinky to grip her chin and turn her face to the camera. She whimpered when she saw how much of a mess she was, how much of a submissive puddle he turned her into without trying. The visual spurred her into another orgasm. When she finally came back to Earth, she let her legs go limp and released her boyfriend, much to his dismay.

He traced his lips back up to hers, pushing into her mouth. When he released their kiss, he left small pecks on her jaw, coming to her ear, “My favorite meal. Now my favorite show.”

She grabbed his jaw and brought him back to her lips where he lost himself for an unknown amount of time. He was achingly hard. Rowan ran her hand down his shoulders, past the scar on his ribs from when he got hit by a tree branch in the field, down his abs that he gained from always running from tornadoes, to run her hand over his length. She would never get used to it; he was the biggest she’d ever had, and he knew how to use it. He could bring her to tears without being fully seated in her. He had to coach her into taking deep breaths the first time they’d done it because she was so tense he couldn’t push in. Now, they knew the drill.

She pulled his belt off with one hand and discarded it somewhere in the room before popping his button. He discarded his pants and underwear off the bed, once again on his haunches, pumping himself in his right hand. Her hair was a messy halo around her, her skin shiny with sweat.

He lifted her legs to hang over his thighs, leaving her wide open for him to push into her without pain. His eyes flickered to the camera before coming back to hers; she nodded. He picked the camera up, and fixed the angle to where it was a clear shot of him entering her. With every inch he gave, her whimpers grew louder. “Bite down on the bandana for me sweetheart.”

She nodded blindly, biting down on the cloth that smelled exactly like him, like the cologne he wore that made her nearly stumble when she first met him. Her senses were clouded from anything else in the world. All that existed was him. The camera was an extension of him, like it always was.

When he was fully seated in, he gave a few long in and out thrusts, letting her adjust to his size before putting the recorder in its spot. When she gave him the nod that he was okay to move, he lifted one of her legs to rest on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to her ankle where she had a tattoo of a tornado, courtesy of Lilly and an empty bottle of Jack.

He gripped her hip with his free hand before he began to hammer into her. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. Her noises were one of his favorite things about sex with her, but he really did not need the neighbors knowing that he hadn’t even given her 30 minutes before they went at it; the bandana was not cutting it. He gathered up the material that was still hanging out her mouth and shoved it in. He gave a short “sorry” when he heard her gag but he wasn’t sure she heard it because he gave a very hard thrust at the same time that caused her eyes to roll backwards. He placed his hand over her mouth as well to keep her silent, her leg pressed against her chest.

Her hands dug crescents into his biceps and left long marks down his back. He had absolutely no complaints. If he could find a way to make the feel of him buried in her cunt permanent, he would. Boone grunted in her ear when she squeezed around him, “Be good, honey.” He felt her moan vibrate through his hand. 

She was getting close, he could feel it. She kept lifting her hips in a way to both escape the pleasure but also find new angles for him to hit in hopes it would be what set her off. He snaked his hand off her hip and used his rough thumb to circle her clit. In seconds, he sent her over the edge. She tensed so hard around him he couldn’t thrust her through it. Her tightness sent him over the edge, his face buried in her hair while he was groaning her name paired with a whimper of overstimulation. When he finally pulled out, he got the camera again to film the dripping of his spend out her cunt. He reached a hand out and smeared his cum across her cunt. She jerked and whimpered, the feeling too much so soon after he finished her again. 

He turned the camera to her face as he gave her his cum covered fingers to suck on. She had a sleepy, not-fully-on-Earth smile plastered on her face. She stared at the lens, at the extension of Boone, “Hi, baby.”

He held the camera out with one arm while he moved to connect their lips again.

The camera ran out of battery just as Boone was setting it up to look into the shower, right after he got a shot of Rowan on her knees with her tongue out, covered in his release, before she swallowed and showed her empty tongue to the camera.

He cursed when the screen turned black, an alert to change SD cards coming up. Rowan laughed and closed it after turning it off, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the shower. “You’ll just have to remember this round.”

-

Her hair left a damp spot on the pillow beneath him, but he didn’t mind. She was half asleep in the nook he made for her between his shoulder and arm, her eyes closed as she inhaled the scent of his soap and shampoo. If his arm was asleep under her, he said nothing. He had changed the sheets with the ones from the closet while she searched through his bag and her own to find something to wear. She ultimately decided on a pair of sleep shorts she brought and one of his plain t-shirts that hung oversized on her. She had a fist resting on his chest and had her leg across his waist; he lightly scratched at it, a comforting motion to help lure her to sleep.

He adjusted his head to leave a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you, Rowan.”

She was too tired to make any words, so she gave him a hum that both acknowledged his words and returned the sentiment. She kissed the nearest part of him she could before settling back into her cocoon. He pulled the blankets up closer to her chin.