#wip: i saw the dimples first and then

[ninzied]

wip wednesday

In the following days, all Alex can think about is him. Henry. Henry with the face that looks it could start a war. Henry with the high cheekbones, the full pink lips and remarkably broad shoulders. Henry with the dip in his waist that looks so damn soft Alex would give away his own hand to be able to touch him there just once.

Henry in his beauty, and in his bashfulness too. Henry and the brave tilt of his chin that Alex wants to bite into somehow.

Henry, who is also Lord Henry Mountchristen.

Alex has heard the name before. The Mountchristen family are more or less royalty here, ruled by their ailing grand matriarch. There’s an older brother, who’s recently married and thus assumed all the responsibilities of landowning. This has left Henry—the spare, as Pez fondly refers to him—to pursue his own interests, which are primarily philanthropic in nature.

His posing nude at clandestine social gatherings definitely serves the greater good, as far as Alex is concerned.

tagged by:

@kiwiana-writes @suseagull04 @cha-melodius @piratefalls ♡

tagging:

@anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @carrythesky @celeritas2997 @eusuntgratie

@firenati0n @garglyswoof @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @nocoastposts @notspecialbabe @priincebutt

@onthewaytosomewhere @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @theprinceandagcd @wordsofhoneydew

[loucifersbitch]

wasn't tagged by anyone, just wanted to share from the wip i've been working on 💚 affectionately called The Kink Club Fic

*editing to add, I was tagged by @loveyouanyway 💚✨

Buck’s leg hasn’t stopped bouncing, and he makes a conscious effort to relax and be still. He wants this. He knows he wants this. He’s 31 years old, has recently come to realize his jealousy of other men was actually attraction, and he wants - no, he needs a man to take him apart. Almost as if on cue, the door handle on the opposite side of the room turns. The fluttery feeling in Buck’s belly becomes a full swarm when the man walks in. He had seen the man around the club before he took his year-long break, but he’d never allowed himself to actually look.  The first thing he notices is that the man is tall. Really tall. As tall as Buck himself, if not taller. He’s also broad in a way that Buck has always admired but never tried to achieve. And he’s very attractive with bright blue eyes and a strong jaw. Buck’s eyes follow the line of that jaw until he gets to the cleft in the man’s chin. He feels himself twitch in his boxers, and the man hasn’t even walked into the room properly.  Buck’s mouth is suddenly dry, and he hears his throat click when he tries to swallow. His dom comes fully into the room, closing the door behind himself. His eyes lock with Buck’s, and a soft smile spreads across his face. Maybe he recognizes Buck, too. He can’t seem to find his voice to ask at the moment.

“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice deeper than Buck expected.  Buck tries to respond, but it comes out as more of a squeak. He clears his throat, and finally stutters out, “H- hi.” The dom’s smile grows, and Buck notices he scrunches up his nose and crinkles appear at the outer corners of his eyes. And he has dimples. Oh, Buck is so fucked. He sits stock still and tries to keep breathing as the dom walks toward him, eyes never leaving Buck’s. He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of Buck, not touching, but Buck can feel his body heat through the fabric of his jeans. The dom tilts his head, considering. Buck can hardly breathe at the intensity in his eyes. Then he’s stepping forward and settling himself between Buck’s thighs. Buck’s breath hitches as the dom places two fingers under his chin to tilt his face up. The dom leans in, stopping when his nose is nearly touching Buck’s. “Have you eaten recently?” Buck takes a few seconds to process what his dom had said. That was not what he was expecting. “Uh, wh- what?” The dom only smiles and repeats his question. “Have you eaten recently? You look a little pale.” “Oh, uh,” Buck stutters, “I - I think an hour ago? I ate before I left work.” “You ate before you left work -,” his dom repeated, leaving the end of the sentence open. “S- sorry, uh - I ate before I left work, sir.” His dom smiles softly, then says, “Good boy.” A pleasant shiver runs down Buck’s spine at the praise. “Always eat before we scene. I don’t want you coming in when you’re hungry, okay?” his dom continues on, his thumb brushing across Buck’s lower lip. “Yes, sir,” Buck says. He sounds breathless already, and he would be embarrassed, but this guy is mesmerizing. Plus he doesn’t seem the type to make fun of him for it. In fact, his eyes only seem to get warmer. His thumb finishes its trek across Buck’s lip, then slips forward to rest on his lip and pauses, eyebrows lifting as if asking for permission. Buck nods minutely, and the thumb slides into his mouth, bypassing his teeth to sit on his tongue. The dom doesn’t press down, he just lets it sit there for a minute, studying Buck’s reaction. Not one to pass up an opportunity, Buck seals his lips around his dom’s thumb, sucking gently. His dom hums in approval, his eyes darkening further. “I saw you wrote on your form that you have an oral fixation,” he says, his voice somehow dropping even further. Buck gives a quiet, “mhm,” around the digit in his mouth. He’s not going to deny it. He knows full well that it’s true. To drive the point home, he runs his tongue along the pad and then around the tip of the thumb. A small gasp escapes between his dom’s lips, and Buck smirks. Then his mouth is suddenly empty. His dom takes a purposeful step back and says, “Strip and kneel.”

[geralts-yenn]

I need you now

Evan Marshall x female reader (second-person pov)

summary: after an accident, your cute neighbor takes care of you

warnings: mention of a car accident, reader gets an injection, has a broken arm, that's it, I think

word count: 3,6k

A/N: A sweet nonnie asked me to write some Evan fluff. My first thought was "Another WIP, I can't do that!" But then the little devil on my shoulder whispered "You always wanted to write for Evan!" And one sleepless night later, I had the plot for this in my head.

Hope you like it, nonnie!

My masterlist

Slowly, you tried to open your eyes, but everything was just a blurry mix of colors. You realized you felt hot streaks running down your cheeks and assumed that tears must be the reason for your limited sight. Other than that, the only thing you noticed was a piercing pain in your left arm. The kind of pain that suffocates all other senses. 

You didn’t know how long you sat there but after some time your body moved. You blinked again and saw a blurred face hovering above you.

“Hey, ma’am, can you talk to me? What’s your name?” You wanted to nod but realized that your head wasn’t moving. With difficulty, you drawled out your name.

“Okay, that’s good! Are you experiencing pain right now? Do you recall what happened?” You told the guy about your arm and after some thinking you remembered being on your way to run some errands when suddenly there was a loud bang and your car spun around in circles. Then another bang. That was all you knew.

The man kept talking to you, his voice deep and soothing, even if you couldn’t follow what he was saying. Then you felt a sting on your other arm, followed by the sensation of ice running up your arm through your veins. 

After this, everything got clearer with every minute. And the pain in your arm slowly faded. You opened your eyes once more, and now the face in front of you wasn’t blurry anymore. In fact, it was gorgeous. Sharp jaw, covered in maybe three days of hair growth. Dimples on his nose and on his chin. Blue eyes with lashes to die for watching you attentively. Oh, he’s cute. And somehow familiar. You heard a chuckle and realized you probably said this out loud. But you were still too dizzy to really care. 

“Your arm is broken, but apart from that, you seem to be fine. We'll take you to the hospital, but I think there's not much to worry about. You'll get a cast and some painkillers for the next few days.”

Your gaze was still on the medic that was now sitting beside you. And you finally recalled why he looked so familiar. 

He was the guy who ran by your kitchen window every morning. You had seen him the first day after you moved into your new home, he lived across the street from you. 

“You're my neighbor,” you told him with a stupid smile on your face. So you were still a little confused because if you were thinking straight you would have been too shy to tell him.

He looked at you curiously, but then you saw how it clicked. “Yeah, the house with the blue door. You're the girl who moved in recently.”  He gave you a warm smile. “I'm Evan.”

***

There was a knock on the door and you wondered who it could be. You didn't know anyone in this town and you hadn't ordered anything. Maybe it was the police, wanting some more information about the guy that cut you off and hit your car. 

But you would have never suspected to see Evan when you opened the door. 

“Hey! I just wanted to check on you and see if you need anything.” His smile was adorable. You greeted him and let him in, even if you were painfully aware of how horribly you must have looked. 

You told him that you were doing fine. You really did, considering the fact that you had a cast up to your shoulder and you were living alone, most of your stuff still packed away in boxes. So, objectively, you were probably not doing too fine.

And that's what Evan noticed, too, when he saw the plate with the left-overs of dry pasta and ketchup that you've been eating. You were on your way to grocery shopping when you had your accident, so your fridge was almost empty.  Evan looked at you with a frown. 

“And now the honest answer?” He was probably trying to look stern but you couldn't think of anything else as "puppy". 

But you admitted that it would be helpful if he could get you some food and maybe he could also go find the box with your books because you were already bored as hell, not being able to do anything but sit around. 

Evan opened the fridge and made mental notes of what was missing. Then he accompanied you to your bedroom and after opening some boxes, you finally had a book to spend some time with. 

When Evan was gone to get your groceries, your mind went back to how his shirt was riding up his stomach when he reached for your boxes and you had gotten a glimpse at his toned abs. 

You decided you needed to stop thirsting over the nice guy who only wanted to help you, so you carefully sank onto the couch. There was a cup of tea that Evan had made for you before he left and you sighed contently as you opened your book. 

You were about fifty pages in when you realized that your brain had made the male protagonist in your story look like Evan. Maybe you should have been embarrassed, but to be honest, who could blame you? He was incredibly attractive and you were just a woman, not a saint.

You had just arrived at the scene where your book hero admitted his feelings to the oblivious main character and they shared a first kiss, when there was a knock on the door again. 

And seeing the real Evan standing there, packed with bags, did so much more to your heart than the story you were reading. And the way he moved so comfortably around in your kitchen, stowing away the things he got for you, you couldn’t help but think that he really fitted well into your home. Damn, so you really had a crush on him! 

You were trying to help Evan, but he took everything you picked up out of your hand, just asking you where to put it. When everything was put aside, you made your way to the door. 

“Thank you so much, Evan. You really saved me today.” But Evan didn’t follow you. He kept leaning against the kitchen counter with his adorable smile only widening. 

“I’m not done yet. You need to eat some real food. Let me cook something for you, please.” Now, that was unexpected. How could you say no to that? And so Evan started chopping vegetables while you sat back on the couch with your book, as he had insisted. 

Soon the room was filled with the scent of the curry he was preparing for you. Every now and then you glanced over at him and your heart skipped a beat when he caught you and winked, dimples forming on his cheeks by the way he smiled. 

You got up and eventually Evan let you help to set the table and then you both sat there with a plate of curry in front of you. Evan looked at you expectantly as you took the first bite.

“Oh my god! This is delicious. How can I ever make up for your help, Evan?” He chuckled and shook his head. 

“You don’t have to make up for anything. I love cooking and having someone to share a meal actually makes it so much more fun.” 

You chatted about your work and the town and whatever came to your mind while eating and everything felt just incredibly comfy and easy. Evan put the left-overs into your fridge so you could warm them up. And then, of course, he also took it upon himself to do the dishes. You wouldn’t let him, but he was having none of it. 

But then he had put the last plate into the cabinet and it was about time for him to leave. You didn’t want him to, but you would have never told him. So he was standing on your porch, smiling at you. For a second, you considered if kissing his cheek was an option, but you didn’t dare. 

“Thank you, Evan, really! You are my hero today.” To your surprise, he wrapped an arm around you and hugged you. It was a little awkward with your cast in the way, but nevertheless your heart skipped a beat when you felt his touch. 

***

The next day you spent with more reading. And more daydreaming about the man who had turned your life upside down in an instant. You ate the rest of his curry around midday, and the memories of the last night its taste brought back were too sweet. 

You had been sleeping on the couch for a while when you heard the knock on the door. Could this be Evan again? He hadn’t said anything about coming back yesterday. 

You could have jumped for joy when he really stood there at your door. 

“Hey! Are you hungry? I brought some steaks.” He held up a bag. 

This time he actually let you help him. At least the little things you could manage to do with one hand. Evan cut the potatoes and vegetables and put them on a tray, while you were allowed to put the olive oil and herbs on top. When they were in the oven, you started to set the table while Evan took care of the steaks. 

When you both sat at the table and you looked down on your plate, you started to laugh. Evan frowned but then he realized his mistake. 

“Oh shit! I haven’t thought of that. Damn!” Quickly, he moved around the table and squatted down beside you. He took your cutlery and began to cut your steak and vegetables into small pieces, his arms wrapped around you and his chest pressed against your back.

You could feel his breath on your neck and it took all of your willpower not to turn your head and kiss him. Way too soon, all your food was chopped into small enough pieces and Evan was back in his chair. Again, talking to him was so easy and sitting there and eating with him next to you felt incredibly cozy.

Some of the pieces of food were a bit unruly and you had to fight to get them on your fork with one hand. Evan noticed and leaned over. He put them on his own fork and held it out for you. And damn, having this man feed you this delicious meal made you feel things. You watched his slender fingers wrapped around his fork moving to your mouth and you thought about what you wanted those hands to do to you. 

After taking a deep breath, trying to keep your composure, you locked your eyes with Evan. And for the first time you noticed something in his gaze that told you that maybe you weren’t the only one that felt like this. Evan watched you with hooded eyes and licked his upper lip as you took another bite from him. 

The rest of the time you spent eating, you dwelled on how to tell Evan about your growing feelings. This was all happening way too fast for your liking. And the fact that you couldn’t just ask him out on a date because you were forced to stay at home with that stupid cast, sitting here in an old shirt and sweatpants was utterly annoying. Without coming to any conclusion, you just helped Evan to put away the dishes he had washed and then he grabbed his jacket. 

“Hey, can we share numbers? I thought that it would be a good idea. You could send me a text when you need something.” 

‘I need you now’ probably wasn’t the text he had in mind, but it was the first thing that came into your mind, and somehow it felt good to know that you had the opportunity to do this if you ever were brave enough.

As you said goodbye to each other, this time you expected the embrace, so it wasn’t that awkward anymore. But Evan surprised you another time when his lips brushed gently over your cheek. “Good night. Tomorrow I have to work the evening shift. Would you mind if I got us breakfast?” 

***

You hardly slept at all, pondering about your feelings and cursing about the cast that was in your way, no matter how you turned. 

A look in the mirror after you got up made you curse even more. Damn! You managed to wash yourself and you could change your pants. But you just couldn’t get out of that stupid shirt and after three days in it, it was wrinkled and you thought it was smelly too. And your hair!

You tried to comb through it as good as possible with your good arm, but it still looked awful. You needed to wash it, but how? Taking a shower wasn’t an option, and you needed two hands to wash it in the sink or in the bath tub. 

Long story short, you felt like shit. And thinking of Evan seeing you like this wasn’t improving your mood. Okay, he had seen you twelve hours earlier, and probably you didn’t look considerably worse. But twelve hours earlier, you hadn’t yet realized just how much you felt for Evan. At least you hadn’t admitted it to yourself.

Speaking of, there was the knock on the door. 

“Hey! Good morning!” He greeted you with the smile that you had grown to love, but today you didn’t reciprocate. You barely nodded as you let him in. And of course Evan immediately knew something was off. 

“Hey, are you in pain?” He guided you to sit on the couch and squatted down in front of you, switching to paramedic mode instantly. You shook your head but Evan didn’t let go of you. “What’s the matter? You’re not okay!” 

Lacking of other ideas what you could tell him, you went for the truth. At least for half of it.

“I feel horrible. I need to get out of those smelly clothes and I really need to wash my hair.” 

Evan let out a breath he was holding when he heard you. 

“Oh, sweetheart! First of all, you’re not smelly.” He chuckled. “And I can help you with that. I’m a medic, if you forgot.” You hadn’t even thought of that option. And now it was too late to wonder if you were comfortable with Evan doing this for you. Because by now you knew how stubborn Evan was and he surely wouldn’t leave you without helping you. 

He guided you to your bedroom. “Do you have a shirt with buttons or a zipper? It would be easier for you to undress with that.” He looked around in the chaos of boxes that were still spread over the room. 

“I think there should be a zip hoodie in this one.” You pointed to a box standing on top of your bookshelf. Evan fished for it and started to browse through it. As you poked over his shoulder you realized your mistake too late. Evan carefully put your lingerie aside and acted as if he hadn’t seen it, though you noticed his ears reddening. Finally he held the hoodie in his hands. 

That was when you recognized the next problem. You weren’t wearing a bra. You couldn’t let Evan help you into the hoodie with no bra on. There was just so much embarrassment you could endure. But you weren’t wearing a bra for a reason, you weren’t able to close the clasp, dammit.

“Uhm, I may need you to help me into a bra first.” You hid your timidity behind your hand. All of this was not at all how you had imagined getting closer to Evan. In fact, it was so absolutely awkward that it was almost funny. Almost!

Evan’s ears reddened further, even if he told you that this wasn’t a problem at all. You managed to fumble a bra under your shirt and pressed it against your chest. Evan’s hands moved under the shirt, too, and you held your breath when his fingers brushed over your skin. He skillfully closed the bra without needing to look at it, which you were very thankful for. 

Next, your shirt had to be removed. Now this wasn't as easy. Evan helped you out of the sleeve with your good arm. Okay. Then he grabbed the hem of your shirt and locked his eyes with you, silently asking for your consent to lift it. This felt incredibly intimate. It WAS incredibly intimate and you were surprised at how comfortable you still felt.

Evan pulled your shirt up and over your head. You heard him taking a breath before he pulled the shirt sideways over your cast as carefully as possible. When your head was free again you looked at him and he gave you a shy but encouraging smile. 

Evan circled you to stand behind you. Probably so he didn't need to focus so much not to drop his gaze to your chest, you thought, and to your own surprise it amused you. This was probably the most awkward way of flirting you had ever done, but it worked. 

He helped you get into the sleeves of the hoodie. Without him, you wouldn't have managed to get it over your cast. And the way his hands moved over your arms and shoulders to adjust the fabric made you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Then his hands wrapped around your waist to close the zipper. More butterflies. You really tried to suppress the moan as you felt his touch but it slipped your mouth. And it got you a sharp inhale of Evan in response.  But in the end you were decent again.

“Uhm, bathroom?” Evan's voice told you how much he was affected by the situation, too, and somehow that knowledge was calming. 

You led the way to your small bathroom. Evan looked around and after some thinking he put down a few of your towels and guided you to sit on them. Your back resting against the bathtub, you looked up at him. 

"I think this will work. Is it comfortable for you?” he asked and you hummed affirmatively. 

Evan knelt down next to you and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. You watched him, your eyes fixed on the veins of his forearms. 

And Evan watched you watching him, clenching his jaw. By now, the tension between the two of you was undeniable. None of you spoke more than needed, and every movement seemed to happen in slow motion. 

Evan bowed down over you and turned on the water on the hand shower. His chest was hovering inches over your face and you took in his scent. 

As Evan checked the temperature with his wrist, you decided to shut your eyes. You definitely had to reduce the sensations that hit you while he washed your hair, else you'd go insane. 

There was Evan's hand in your hair, carefully running his fingers through your locks. Then the warm water was gushing over your head. Evan's hand kept brushing through your tresses, making sure that every strand got wet.

“Is this okay?” he checked on you once more, and again you couldn't give him more than a hum. 

It seemed to be enough for Evan to go on. He turned off the water and after checking your numerous hair care products, he decided on one and lathered his hands before putting them back on your head. His fingers massaged your scalp with just the perfect amount of pressure. 

The strawberry scent of your shampoo filled your nose, replacing the notes of sandalwood that Evan's cologne had left. But you couldn't be sad about it as long as his hands worked their magic on your head. 

A trail of foam ran down your forehead but Evan was fast enough to catch it before it reached your eye. 

He started the water again and rinsed your hair. You thought this wonderful experience was almost over but then Evan repeated the procedure with your conditioner.

At one point you decided you were brave enough to open your eyes again and when you blinked them open, they fell directly onto Evan's. The blue of them was almost gone, his pupils blown wide. When he saw you looking at him a soft smile played around the corners of his mouth. “Hey!” he just said.  “Hey!” you returned, a sheepish smile on your own face. 

As long as Evan had managed to drag this out, now he was done. Your hair was rinsed clean and he took a towel to wrap it around your head and rubbed your hair carefully. 

With a sigh, he got up and held a hand out for you. As you stood, you could see yourself in the mirror and watch how Evan continued to dry your hair. He removed the towel and started to comb through your strands. Goosebumps spread from your neck over your whole body. 

Evan looked deeply at you through the mirror. “Are you feeling more comfortable now?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 

“So much more.” you whispered and you turned to face him. Your hand cupped his cheek, brushing your fingers over the stubble that covered his jaw.

“That's good!” he breathed. “So you're comfortable enough to finally kiss me?” 

Instead of an answer you closed the small gap between you and pressed your lips firmly on his. 

[sommerregenjuniluft]

something something day of the week snippet

helo tumblr *wrings hands* i've been a little mia recently especially in tag thingies because we've not been doing too hot mentally but alas here i am :p

@grimsneverendingfuneral tagged me (kissing u) in a mouthwatering rosekiller wip snippet and i saw saints' too so i thought i'd just keep the theme going so have some Ant Pile (btw i'm trying to finish this until my birthday so mid february! fingers crossed you get everything of this soon)

Evan hits him upside the head making Barty growl. “Well, bitch boy, maybe. Since it seems you like to do that so fucking much.” 

“Dickface.”

“Bitch boy.”

“You–” and then Barty’s upper lip pulls back and- oh, fuck no.

“Ay! Don’t fucking bite me again, B,” Evan rears his arm back and out of reach, “I swear to– get the fuck off.”

Barty snarls, teeth bared in a too wide smile, cheeks crinkling with stretched dimples. Evan is only mildly obsessed with them whenever they pop out.

That’s probably the reason Barty gets the opportunity to make a swift grab for his wrists and pin them over his head. They scramble against each other, trying to win the upper hand as their legs wriggle, slip, knees knocking, and then Barty is suddenly perched on his chest, straddling his torso and sinking his teeth into the soft underside of Evan’s forearm.

He cries out through clenched teeth, more startled than hurt, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting like a motherfucker as Barty’s jaw stays clamped shut around Evan’s flesh.

There’s a sucked in breath against Evan’s skin, sounding excited, and there must be some kind of blood flow interruption because his head gets a little dizzy then.

It draws a noise out of him, body involuntarily starting to squirm and eventually prompting Barty to let up.

The first thing Evan feels is relief which is promptly inundated. Another noise punching out of him, a pained hiss when the marked skin starts throbbing. 

Barty above him gives a pleased chuckle, then a wet slurping noise, collecting the spit back up into his mouth. 

Another throb, whole-body, and Evan groans.

Barty adjusts on top and leans down again.

Evan’s eyes fly open, frantically wiggling to get away but Barty’s grip is iron and then there’s something warm-wet. Pleasant.

Evan blinks and tips his head back, something lodging in his throat when he watches Barty lap over the teeth indents with his tongue. Warm and careful, a soothing gesture. 

He doesn’t slobber on it, rather alternating between long swipes with the flat of his tongue and little kitten licks. Until Barty makes a small sound and then his lips come down over the marred skin too.

Soft pressure, damp lips coming down randomly over and over again, here and there and over there, too.

A constant, recurring puff of breaths spilled over Evan’s sensitive skin, much too gentle in the face of the firm way Barty’s hand still holds him down by the wrists.

“B,” Evan chokes out when he feels some of the returning blood rushing south too.

His friend grunts, not really in acknowledgement but more in a dismissive let me cook here way and Evan bites down hard on his lower lip. That doesn’t help him suppress the startled moan though when Barty suddenly sucks the pulsing skin into his mouth.

Adam’s apple bobbing and holding the patch of skin in his mouth, cheeks hollowing and takes everything in Evan not to buck his hips when he feels himself twitch in his pants.

Evan’s voice is so husky he barely recognizes it himself when he strangles out, “Barty, you gotta let go.”

The skin pops out of his mouth with a wet smacking noise and Evan feels positively stupid as he watches Barty’s lips come down for one more gentle kiss like he just can’t help himself.

Barty sits back, still kind of looking at Evan like he wants to eat him, hands sliding off his wrists and Evan barely refrains from whimpering.

“Fuck, I hate you. You’re insane,” he pants, feeling where Barty is hard against his stomach, “Why was that hot?”

“Dunno,” Barty responds, eyes still glazed and staring down at Evan with something akin to awe. “Kinda wanna do that to your neck now.”

i have lost any concept of time and as mentioned been not too active so apologies if youve been tagged in one of these fairly recently lol <3 @stagpdf, @static-radio-ao3, @itsjaywalkers, @rottin6, @veryinnovative, @messrsage, @maliceofminds, @lemndrps, @214lilacsky, @regscupid, @xjustakay, @standardlovers and @kaleidoscopexsighs

[gumnut-logic]

This is a very old WIP that I thought I would post for @idontknowreallywhy as she likes to drop things on Scotty.

I blew him up and Virgil was not impressed.

Warning for very much not finished WIP from 2020 that probably has been read by some of you before, possibly several times. Also, everyone gets whumped.

-o-o-o-

Scott Tracy had an amazing smile. His dimples were legendary and those blue eyes of his certainly added their own sparkle to the equation.

And the commander of International Rescue, President of Tracy Industries and all out billionaire was very much aware of the power he wielded with that simple facial gesture.

He was a ladykiller.

Well, perhaps not quite a ‘killer’. More a ‘I’ll do whatever you want if you will just keep smiling at me’ lethal mouth muscle wielder. Or so Gordon claimed.

Gordon’s descriptive skills weren’t one of his strengths.

It was also an excellent tool out in the field. Male or female, when that smile was directed at a person in charge, they either melted and did whatever Scott wanted them to do.

Or the opposite.

The ratio of the non-receptive vs receptive to that smile was definitely a low number versus a much higher one, but unfortunately, today they had encountered one such person.

And they were being a real pain in the ass.

Virgil would have been on Two, but no negotiation on Scott’s part was convincing the mine manager that International Rescue knew what it was doing.

They were down to technical facts and time was growing shorter by the moment.

Two was hovering above with Gordon on board while Virgil rappelled down to discuss engineering concepts with this idiot and convince him that the great Thunderbird was not going to make the situation worse.

Scott was steaming.

Virgil appeared to be nearing boiling point himself and that was quite a feat on the manager’s part. Virgil had battled Fischler without a blink, for crying out loud.

The conversation had slipped into engineeringese quite early on and most of the concepts were beyond Scott, leaving him edgy and worried about the miners trapped below.

Thunderbird One was parked not far away and his eyes wandered in that direction before skipping back to the mine entrance.

Just in time to see someone slip under the warning tape and start climbing over the collapsed debris.

Scott was moving without thought. “Hey! Get out of there! It’s not safe!”

The suspect turned, saw him and disappeared inside the cliff face.

What the hell?

Scott made it to the tape before the manager started yelling.

The commander ignored him and poked his comms. “Thunderbird Five, can you give me an updated scan of the mine. An idiot just entered-“

A flash, and the rock face exploded.

The blast hit Scott face on. He didn’t even have a chance to scream.

-o-o-o-

Virgil did.

The shockwave knocked him of his feet, the mine manager landing on top of him, but they were far enough away to only be pelted by the edges of the explosion.

Something solid hit Virgil’s left arm, numbing it from the elbow down. Beside him the manager screamed as a large chunk of rock landed on his foot.

Far above, Thunderbird Two deviated from her hover, banking off to the north only to circle back and begin her landing sequence nearby.

He felt her in his bones and it was only then he realised his eyes had fallen shut.

He forced them open.

Scott.

Scott had been closer.

Virgil struggled to his feet. The manager was writhing next to him, a rock pinning his ankle. A rock that would need his exosuit to move it.

Scott first.

Scott had been closer.

“Virgil, status!”

Virgil was running. He thumbed his comms as his legs closed the distance to where his brother had been. “John, I need Scott’s location.”

“Five metres to your left.”

There was rock everywhere, dust and haze obscuring everything. “Scott?”

A stumble and a flash of blue.

A gloved hand lay limp. Virgil skidded in beside it.

Scott hadn’t been wearing his helmet. After all, he was only negotiating Virgil’s entrance into the mine.

Dirt and blood on pale skin.

Medical assessment. “John, Scott’s unconscious.” His own gloved fingers touching dusty dark hair, gently searching for the source of the blood and the damage level. “Head injury.” His fingers encountered a dip in his brother’s skull that should not be there. “Possibly serious.”

His brother was breathing, his pulse strong, and Virgil thanked whoever or whatever protected their family for that mercy.

Gordon joined him, first aid kit in hand, while Virgil was inspecting the rest of his brother’s body for injury.

“What the hell happened?”

Virgil peeled back a gash in Scott’s uniform at his thigh to reveal another injury.

“I don’t know. Scan him while I get the exosuit.”

Gordon frowned at him. “What about you?” Carnelian eyes looked him up and down only to settle on his limp left arm. “How-“

“Worry about Scott. I have another victim to attend to.” He brushed his fingers across Scott’s baldric and stood up.

“Virgil-“

“The man’s pinned, Gordon. Time is of the essence. Look after Scott.”

He didn’t miss Gordon’s glare, but he did ignore it and with an indrawn breath, broke into a run towards Thunderbird Two.

-o-o-o-

He ended up taping his left arm into his exosuit. It was slapdash and done in a hurry using some of the electronic insulation tape he kept for emergency repairs. He could lift his arm, but his fingers had no strength or coordination. It was only for a matter of minutes. He had to lift the rock off the injured man. That was all.

His arm didn’t like the added weight in the slightest.

He’d live.

He ran from the module back to the pile of rubble dragging a couple of hover stretchers behind him. He tossed one in Gordon’s direction

By the time he reached the mine manager, Virgil’s numb arm was no longer numb. In fact, it was hurting like hell with every movement.

Lift the rock and he could shed the suit.

“What the hell have you been doing?!”

“Hold still, Mr Ginley.” Fortunately, it was his right hand that controlled the largest claw, but unfortunately, he had to use his left to steady the load as he lifted.

Ginley’s cry of pain as the rock was shifted hid Virgil’s own.

Sweat broke out on his forehead as the engineer let the rock fall harmlessly to one side. He found himself panting.

“It’s bleeding! It’s bleeding!” Ginley was pointing at his foot where the rock had gashed the bare skin of his shin. The man was wearing steel toed boots and the rock had apparently only pinned him rather than doing any extensive damage beyond grazing him.

“Thunderbird Two?”

“Yes, John.” Virgil stumbled back towards the stretcher and grabbed the medkit.

“I’m still reading one life sign within the mine.”

Virgil blinked. One.

There had been five. Plus the person Scott had tried to stop from entering

All that time talking.

But then he and his brothers had been underground during that explosion…

“How far down? Mole or exosuit?”

...

[effervescentdragon]

and also a MERLIN AU PRE/SEQUEL HMMMMM??? 👀👀👀

okay so i answered this ask in the one sol asked me and tagged you, and the reason i did was because i wanted to use this to offer you a snippet of a wip i forgot to offer, which is called gold and gifts and is a PIARLES SPY AU. so. here we go. i ppsted about it before, snippets, but this one is for you Can 🤍

"Non, non, stay with me Pear, please," someone said, and Pierre thought he knew that voice, but that was impossible.

"He's losing too much blood!"

"I can fucking see that-"

"- emergency transfusion-"

"- the fuck do we find it in fucking Baku-"

"- always Baku-"

"- not the fucking time-"

The yelling was loud, and chaotic, and Pierre could piece together that his situation wasn't really positive nor optimistic in the outcome, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He hurt too much to care. He thought he might be hallucinating, because there was a voice there, Monegasque accented, which couldn't have been real.

"- stay with me, please, calamar, I can't-"

"Ch- Charles," he whimpered, saying the name he'd refused to say for years, because that was Charles' voice, and that was their nickname for each other ever since they were kids, sharing beds and clothes and dreams.

"- dropping fast, he needs a hospital-"

"- no treaty-"

"- don't give a fuck-"

"Yes, my darling, please," the voice begged, and Pierre's heart broke at the tone. "Stay with me, Pear, please."

"Charles - dead," was all Pierre could say, because Charles, his Charles was dead, for years now he'd been dead and Pierre refused to think about it, refused to even think his name because even that tore Pierres heart to shreds.

Charles was dead and gone, and if Pierre was hearing Charles' voice, that meant only one thing.

"I'm - dying?" Pierre asked, and the voices quieted down. "Be - with - with you then - Char - Charles?" He managed to cough out, and he thought he might be smiling as he said it.

"- well fuck, that's just -"

"- to get him to our medic-"

"Non, non, mon cheri, you're not - stay with me Pierre, I'm here, please, please don't let go."

There was a gentle pressure on his face, a touch that felt reverent and familiar, and everything hurt, but Pierre knew he needed to open his eyes, so he did.

Green. Green was the first thing he saw, green eyes in a beautiful, beloved face which looked even handsomer than he remembered. He'd forgotten how Charles' eyes had flecks of yellow in them, imperceptible unless one was to come too close. He didn't remember his eyes being circled with red normally, or so watery. Another thing he got wrong was how beautiful they are, because they were even more beautiful in this imminent-death hallucination of his than they were in his memories.

"Be- beaux yeux," he smiled despite the excruciating pain that coursed through him. "Mon Charles, mon ange," he said, because he wasn't going to have the chance ever again. "J' mourrai - heureux."

The beautiful eyes above him widened. If Pierre had any strength left, he would've touched Charles' frown and turned it into a dimpled smile. Perhaps in the afterlife, he'd get the chance to do so. Probably not. He'd be going straight to Hell, and Charles was Heaven personified.

"You will not die," Charles' voice said, but it sounded too far away. "You will not die on me, chéri, don't you dare!"

Pierre never wanted to look away from Charles, but his eyes were too heavy, and his everything was on fire, so he closed his eyes, content in the knowledge that he got to see Charles again, even if only as a hallucination, before he died.

I will see you soon, chéri, he thought, or said, and succumbed to the darkness.

[warpedpuppeteer]

Fuck-it Friday

I have completed zero of my wips unfortunately. But here's some bits from one I'm currently obsessed with!! This one's a bit fucked up story- wise but I'm keeping it under wraps for the element of surprise.

⚠️⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️⚠️

violence, blood, stabbing, disturbing content

⚠️⚠️⚠️ WARNING ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Can't tell much without spoiling it but this scene depicts Buck forcing Eddie to kill his date 😀

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry”, he says hysterically, his hands shaking. Hands come up from behind him, covering both of his around the knife. Hot air on his ear. “Hold it still, Eddie. You want a nice clean stab. Hurts less that way”.

Tyler's eyes are wide, terrified. His mouth is covered with grey tape, wrists and ankles strapped down to the chair. The tape around his mouth is wet because he's started crying as well. There's a cut on his forehead bleeding lightly.

Eddie is pushed closer to Tyler, the body behind him a line of heat scorching his back. The hands steadily guide his shaking ones closer, and the blade sinks into Tyler's body like a hot knife on butter until the hilt.

He falls to his knees, hands still holding the handle because even now, his medical training kicks in. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!” Eddie's crying, sobbing really. He's forced to pull the knife back though, and blood spills over his hands, warm and viscous. He stares in horror, still holding the bloody knife that he just stabbed his date with.

He doesn't know how they ended up here. They were having a nice date at his place; Eddie had cooked again, getting the chicken recipe from Linda that she had sworn up and down would blow Tyler's socks off. He had shaved, put on a blue button down and worn his nice cologne. He had repositioned the vase of tulips on the table 6 different times.

When Tyler showed up, he had stood there by the door blinking at Eddie and going “wow”, making Eddie blush. Once inside, he had complimented the tulips and Eddie added the roses Tyler had gotten him to the vase, happy inside because this is the first time someone has gotten flowers for him.

The chicken had been as fantastic as Linda had promised; Tyler moaned appreciatively which he then got very embarrassed about, cheeks pink as Eddie grinned at him. He had hooked his ankle around Tyler's, letting him know he found his reactions cute.

They didn't have wine, because Eddie had a shift tomorrow and Tyler doesn't drink. He had made his Abuela’s famous lemonade instead. He was thinking about how to make the date longer- how to ask if Tyler would like to stay the night- when there had been a knock at the door

FOUR HOURS PRIOR

He jumps when he hears the knock, and Tyler looks at him questioningly. Eddie wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Can you excuse me for a moment, I'll see who that is”.

Tyler had nodded at him with a sweet dimpled smile. “Sure, go ahead”. Eddie couldn't help but lean down to press a kiss against Tyler's cheek as he passed him, Tyler's pretty green eyes sparkling at the act.

But it turns out, Eddie didn't have to excuse himself. Because before he could even leave the kitchen, someone walks through the entryway.

“Buck?” surprise marred his voice. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

Buck froze when he saw that someone else was in the kitchen. His eyes trailed from Eddie's head and down to his toes, making Eddie shift consciously.

Buck blinks at him, sheepish, “sorry, I didn't think you had…company”.

Of course by then Tyler had moved to stand closer to Eddie. Eddie sucks his bottom lip lightly. This isn't exactly how he wanted his best friend to find out. But what's done is done, he supposes.

“Uh Buck, this is Tyler, my date. And Tyler, this is Buck, my best friend”, he shifted his eyes from one man to another, gesturing at them for the introduction.

“Oh, Buck! I've heard so many great things about you from Eds, it's great to put a face to the stories!”, Tyler reaches out with his hand, his natural charm and bubbliness shining through.

Buck shakes his hand awkwardly, “Uh, thank you. I'd love to say the same but I wasn't really aware…of um…you”.

Tyler, god bless his sweet soul, laughs lightly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I'm the one who asked Eds to keep it down low for a bit”.

He didn't. Eddie is the one who had asked Tyler to keep it quiet for a bit because he wasn't really out yet. Not because he was worried about anything but it was nice, having this one secret thing for himself. His heart skips a beat at how sweet Tyler is.

Buck gives his customer service smile - the one he uses during calls with annoying and difficult-on-purpose victims- and nods. “Uh yeah, I totally get that man. I really am sorry for crashing your date though, I thought Eddie was alone so I let myself in with my key.”

Tyler politely doesn't ask why Buck has a key to Eddie's house, though Eddie thinks he's probably aware of how ridiculously codependent they both are from all the stories he's told him before anyways.

Usual disclaimer: Rough draft and unedited 🙏🏽

[adelaidedrubman]

it’s serving absolute wednesday

i was tagged on this particular wednesday by my dears @nightbloodbix @cassietrn @deputyash @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat to share a wip! (and by folks last week too i think but scrolling through notifs hard so apologies for any double tags for those who just posted and obviously no pressure).

unfortunately have not been able to write much this week due to the Week of it all, so fished up (haha) a hl&s chapter 4 excerpt i have already posted a little bit of before (if you saw it pretend i didn’t).

And she wore the wide, toothy grin of a bear with a fresh caught salmon between her paws as she shucked off her shirt, single auburn brow quirked up as she held it out to him as if offering food to a cub. “Think you can get dressed all by yourself like a big boy, too?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she thrust a hand against his chest to push him back flat against the fence again, shoving the collar over his head herself.  “I’ve got it from here,” he bit out, elbowing her away. “Thank you for all the unrequested manhandling.”

“Funny way of saying ‘emergency medical care,’” she grunted, crossing her arms over her barely covered chest. “And a fine of job of it, too, you could fucking add. You’ll still need to find a real doctor eventually to pluck out the fishing line and super glue everything back together, but I’m sure you can manage a few more weeks of not buying a new boat to afford the co-pay on glorified Elmer’s. So long as you’re up to date on your tetanus shots, everything’ll heal up just fine. I did good stitchwork.” “Go to a real doctor, you say?” he replied, forcing a hint of condescension back into his tone as he poked shaking arms through sleeves. “Does that mean you fancy yourself something of an amateur? A would-be? Perhaps a failed ambition, before you chose to cast your lot amongst trout and speeding tickets?” She flashed him a sweet, dimple framed smile clearly meant to exaggerate the straining of a patience she’d never actually once exercised.  “It means I’m someone who usually has to settle for doing my own first aid,” she chimed brightly, swinging her head away from him. “My fuckin’ condolences. I understand that must be a scary new experience for you.”  “So I shouldn’t use the satellite phone I’ve been hiding this entire time to summon the private jet I keep on retainer to fly me straight to the Mayo Clinic over this?” he hummed, sparing a brief, belated glance to the freshly-tended wound as he pulled the borrowed shirt down over his chest. She wasn’t wrong — she did well enough. The skin had the sheen of thorough cleaning, her stitchwork tight but precise in its binding. There had certainly been far worse done by his own immature hand in its day, faded silken webs of scarring memorializing unsteady job of a sewing needle and thread in the dark of his childhood bedroom forking out and framing the fresh set of stitches.  Mementos she’d also seen, it occurred to him in retrospect as he tugged the hem of the shirt down, stopping just below his navel to leave a small sliver of stomach exposed above his waistband. And perhaps that was the source of her arrogance about her own work — heartless, smug little thing she was.  Yes, he knew the likes of her, knew that every little act of seeming kindness was merely an opportunity to cruelly poke and prod for her own amusement. Right down to the shirt given off her back — still smelling of her, he noted, tilting his head down as he rubbed the fabric of the collar between his fingers to stir up the scent. 

sending tags out to @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @theresaruggedroad @just-another-wasteland-merc @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @simplegenius042 @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @nuclearstorms @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @corvosattano + opt in here to be tagged + again, no pressure!

[bluecatwriter]

🤲 please share a snippet of your WIP

From my Jack/Arthur fic "Unworthy":

As Jack took another sip of his champagne, he scanned the crowd to see where Arthur was at the moment, and saw him tucked into a corner, speaking to a pretty young woman. Jack observed without much thought for a moment, looking at the girl's dark ringlets and her gauzy pastel pink dress. Then she said something, and Arthur laughed with such mirth that Jack lowered his drink and started paying closer attention. Even from over here, he could see the dimples on Arthur's cheeks, which did not show themselves except when his smile was genuine. The woman was laughing along with him now, and they continued talking, quite animately.  Jack sized her up, trying to absorb everything about her appearance and manner.... Jack's eyes flicked to Arthur, taking in the relaxed set of his shoulders, the delighted grin on his face, the way the lights glittered in his blue eyes as he looked at the young woman before him. He heard a roaring in his ears, a knot the size of a boulder forming in his chest. With a lurch, Jack stood up, and he was walking toward them before he even realized what he was doing. He walked steadily, trying to remember the correct muscles to engage in his face to put on a smile.  He came to a halt right beside Arthur, gazing fixedly at the girl, but his voice failed him. He couldn't speak, only stand there like a mute. The woman glanced uncomfortably at Jack, and Arthur followed her eyeline and turned to see him. "Oh, Jack!" he said. Jack stared at his face, looking for a blush. His cheeks were a little red— was he embarrassed, or was it just the drink? Typical of Arthur, he allowed no space for awkwardness, touching Jack's arm to guide him closer. "May I present Miss Clarke. Miss Clarke, my dear friend, Dr. John Seward." "Charmed," she said with that same winning smile. Jack meant to say something, but all he could do was shake her hand as a sense of dread poured over him, like tar that dripped over his head, slid down his shoulders, settled in a thick mat in his guts. 

Spoiler alert: Jack isn't jealous, he just thinks that Arthur should dump him (again). The last half of this chapter is giving me all sorts of trouble but the first half is nearly done.

Thanks so much for the ask!

(Ask game here)

[ninzied]

wip wednesday

The first thing he sees of the man are the dimples. Twin divots in the low arch of his back, nestled above a perfect, round ass that looks like it’s been carved from marble.

He’s standing at the center of a dimly lit room, encircled by easels and chairs. There are men and women alike setting up at each station, but Alex isn’t looking at any of them. Every step brings him a glimpse of the man from a new angle: a stretch of smooth skin, the sharp line of his jaw. The glint of a signet ring. A flicker of candlelight in his golden hair.

Alex blindly follows Pez’s lead as they walk along the perimeter of chairs.

“Lord Henry Mountchristen,” Pez whispers into Alex’s ear. “But here, he’s just Henry. First time he’s posed for us, so your timing is impeccable.”

From behind, Just Henry had looked as still as a statue. But as Alex keeps moving, he gets a better look at his face and notes the flush to Just Henry’s cheeks, the bob of his throat as he swallows. Henry closes his eyes for a moment, a muscle in his jawline twitching. He takes a quick breath before squaring his shoulders again.

Alex is staring openly now. These small vulnerabilities are somehow even more mesmerizing to him than Henry’s beauty itself.

Alex trails after Pez, unable to tear his gaze away. All he wants is to see more of Henry. He tries not to blink in case it’s a mirage and he loses the chance to draw him in time. He commits everything he can to memory, from the lines of Henry’s thighs to the pink tip of his cock coming just into view as Pez stops by an unclaimed easel.

“Here, Alexander,” says Pez, too late, as Alex takes another mindless step forward and promptly collides with the easel, the scrape of impact echoing loudly all throughout the room.

tagged by: @magicandarchery tagging: @eusuntgratie @carry-the-sky @garglyswoof @firenati0n @stereopticons @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @kiwiana-writes @piratefalls @sparklepocalypse @mulderscully @dreamsinthewitchouse @junebugclaremontdiaz @guillermosfamiliar @indestructibleheart @theprinceandagcd @celeritas2997 @anincompletelist and an open tag to anyone reading this! sorry to any who've done this already today ♡

[almostfoxglove]

hi my lovely! if you haven’t had them already for your ask game, would you consider answering ❤️ and 🎁 please?

and also i just wanted to say that i saw you talking about how LTG is one of your faves and i have to agree with you, i am obsessed with it!

HI ANGEL omg thank you for these :,) and AH thank you so much?! I'm so glad you've liked LTG so far - I'm really excited to get back to those two soon <3 TE QUIERO MUCHO

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

AH okay hmmmm the first things that come to mind are this bit from part 2 of I'll Carry You:

You lie to yourself. To the version of your heart that never got older than eleven, enraptured as you were the moment he walked into that classroom and hijacked your life. A bedtime story blooms in your head: you get him, somehow, over everybody else. Call it a birthday wish.

or this from chapter 1 of Lock the Gate (mild spoilers):

Sweet is the air of mid-October, made crisp by the approaching cold. It gets harder to think as the seconds tick and tick and tick—you feel a little like you’re floating away. Drifting out to sea on a tide. As your hands lose their strength and fall from your stomach, leaving your wound to river freely, you picture Walt’s face, the dimple in his chin. How his skin colored like candy beneath the marvel of fireworks every New Year’s Eve. How he had, done up in cufflinks and his brother’s tie, looked at you like you were worth more to him than the world. It’s not that you believe in any afterlife—it’s that you hope. That when you die any second now, he’ll be waiting for you behind the door on which for ten years you've heard death knocking. Waiting. Biding its time. Yes, you hear it now. The click of a latch unlocking inside the door, just moments before it swings open and lets you finally inside.

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

okay my wip with the most in it is the final chapter to I'll Carry You, so I'll put it under the cut to avoid spoiling anyone!!

💘 fanfic writer ask game

** ! SPOILERS FOR I'LL CARRY YOU FINALE BELOW ! **

[sopherfly]

WIP Wednesday {i saw you and i knew}

Okayyy we’re going to try this out and see how it goes. WIP Wednesday! A bit more from my chapter 2 draft of i saw you and i knew. Putting most of it under the cut in case folks don’t want to read spoilers!

P.S. I’m not saying asks about this will make me write it faster, but I’m not NOT saying that, either 💙🩵

Anakin’s thoughts come to a screaming halt when he sees the name Obi-Wan Kenobi flashing across the screen.

It takes him a moment to process that Obi-Wan is calling him, and another to remember that he’s actually supposed to answer. Nervous adrenaline makes his tongue feel thick in his mouth. He swallows, accepting the call and holding the phone to his ear.

“Obi-Wan,” he says, still a little out of breath. “Hi.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan greets, his voice frustratingly neutral. No hint at all of what kind of news Anakin is about to get. “Is this a bad time?”

“No! No, it’s fine.” Anakin sits down and leans back against the wall, brushing sweat-damp hair away from his forehead. His heart is racing. “Sorry, I probably sound kind of—I was just working on an acro routine.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, and Anakin closes his eyes against an absurd pang of longing. “Do you spend all of your days off at the studio?”

“Not all of them,” Anakin says, well aware that he puts in more weekend hours than any other Company 501 dancer. “I just enjoy dancing. It helps clear my head.”

“We have that in common. I could’ve benefited from an hour or two in a rehearsal room the last few days.”

“Oh?” Anakin tries not to sound strangled. After all, it’s only his entire world hanging in the balance. “Were you agonizing over that contract?”

“As a matter of fact, I was.” 

Anakin gets the distinct impression that Obi-Wan is smiling, teasing him with dimples and parted lips that he wishes he could see face to face. 

Come on, Obi-Wan, just tell me, he wants to say, but doesn’t. Put me out of my misery.

“And?” Anakin manages. He bites his lip, clutching the phone tighter.

“And,” Obi-Wan says slowly, “I signed it. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

[daincrediblegg]

teasing wips ask game: 🌈💧 ^_^

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.

This bit that I wrote some months ago always gets me... idk but tl;dr it's after a birthday dinner he hosts for Lady Terror during their first year iced in:

Francis saw her climb the ladder, watched as her skirt lifted into the beyond, and before Jopson could make to mother him, slid the cabin door shut. He felt, then, a violent surge within him, as he stood gazing upon the remnants of their supper with no music but the gentle creaking of the ship to accompany his thoughts. It was a feeling that he hadn’t realized had been absent these past few hours, but as he looked upon her place setting. What little scraps of fatty meat and cognac she had left behind, it occurred to him that perhaps it wasn’t the presence of this feeling that affected him so acutely now, but rather her absence…

He regarded this, staring at the amber swill that was left of her glass, glowing like a lighthouse beacon in the lamplight, then plucked it up, tipped it back, and swallowed. It was, as she had said, sweeter and brighter than the whiskey. But he would need more than that to drown the damnable thing that had curled its way back around his heart, at least, for tonight.

💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it’s gen.

*cracks knuckles* well, since you asked...

“James…” She whispered gently, cupping his dimpled cheek in the palm of her hand, where tears began to spill. He looked at her, his eyes brimming over and blinking, begging for more than he could ever ask. And then she kissed him. His eyes shut and overflowed, as if in pain. And there was, as the faint taste of blood bore itself on her tongue as she drew into him deeper. A few moments later, his hands were on her waist, keeping her there as though she might leave him if he did not. But she made no such move, her other hand reaching for the back of his neck, where his hair fell in gentle curls. 

Francis thought he should feel some touch of jealousy on such a sight. It would be the gentlemanly thing, for loving her as he did, after all. But he found he could not. In fact, he felt stirred by watching them, contented, even, somehow. It felt right to watch their mouths slot together, to watch as she held him in the same gentle way he’d known these past months. The way James wept to be held by her was something he understood all too well. But more than that, he wanted to join her. He wished to be as she was now, holding him, caressing him with hands and lips and tongues. He wondered if he could draw such a man out of James as she did out of them both. If he would weep to feel him.

The thought emboldened him to stand. He saw Genevieve flinch as though she could sense him, even with eyes closed and lips locked. He shot her an affectionate smile, untying his neckerchief and shrugging out of his waistcoat, setting them aside.

James started at the feeling of Francis’ broad fingertips against his arm. Breaking with the woman before him to stare bewildered. Francis came up behind him with his eyes unbearably bright and kind. He’d never thought he’d ever find such a look in his eyes, in all four years he’d known him. But he found it here, as Francis held his gaze, daring his hand to tease up to the edge of his lapels, offering to take them down.

“Do you want this, James?” he asks, his meaning clear in his lilt, in the compassionate tone he’s taken with him these last few weeks. The offer is for them both. For him and his Lady Terror, who pets the scruff of his neck in approval as Francis waits for a reply. For after all, they may not survive what they do here. They may not survive at all. But to feel what they have, curled against him, surrounding him in a way he’s never known… it forces a nod from him.

“Yes. Yes, Francis,” he whimpers, and finds a kind smile grace his lips before the other man leans forward to capture his lips himself.

WIP ASK GAME

[otpcutie]

My year in fic🧚🏻

@tackytigerfic after seeing yours and the open tag, I decided to have a go at this as well & share a few lines from each of the fics I posted this year🥳 I checked my AO3 and I have 23 works for this year, which really surprised me lol — 20 fics (a mix of Drarry and Marvel ships) & 3 fanart pieces I posted on their own. I mostly wrote shorter fics this year, which was a lot of fun to experiment with and behind the scenes I’ve been working on my growing hoard of WIPs😂 Two of them are longer and multichapter (not my usual comfort zone), and I really want to finish at least one next year. So it looks like we’re goal twins, yay!

Drarry:

Duel (M, 0.4k, includes fanart — Drarry Discord Challenge, ft. Ancient Greece AU & T4T)

“Oh? How strange...” Draco schooled his features and appeared nonchalant, before arching an eyebrow. “I remember having felt quite victorious.” 

Harry almost choked on air when the memory rushed to the surface, along with vibrant images of Draco knelt before him. A flush crept up his cheeks and before Harry could attempt to string together a response, Draco raised his own weapon.

Harry accepted the challenge, as he always would. 

Hide and Seek (M, 0.5k, includes moodboard — Nonsexual Cg/l ft. Daddy Draco’s & Little Harry)

Harry sounded adorably entertained, his giggles getting louder. It was unreserved too, which made Draco think Harry had forgotten that he could hear him. It was very endearing.

“Are you in here, love?” Draco crouched down in front of Harry’s tent and rolled up the door. “You’re such a good hider, too good even for Daddy.” He looked inside the tent, pretending he hadn’t noticed Harry’s sock covered toe poking out of his invisibility cloak. 

While he couldn’t see Harry’s chest swell with pride, Draco imagined his beaming smile at the praise. 

Besotted (M, 0.2k — Fluff, ft. Transguy Harry)

He pulled Draco up the rest of the way and brushed their noses together, gazing into each other's eyes affectionately. Draco swept Harry’s fringe out away from his face, his heart nearly overflowing with love. 

Harry decided to take advantage of Draco’s distracted state and flipped them over, straddling his hips. It earned a surprised and fond laugh from Draco, anticipation crawling up his spine.

Harry smirked and purred, “It’s my turn, love.”

Bloom (T, 0.2k, includes fanart — Drarry Discord Challenge, ft. Transwoman Draco)

Before Harry’s eyes, Draco had shattered like broken glass. She’d told Harry something she had suspected about herself for a long time but had repressed, until she couldn’t anymore. That she was a woman. Harry’s love never wavered and he saw her blossom, able to express herself and embrace her womanhood. It unlocked a lightness in Draco, as though she could finally breathe. 

Missing You (T, 0.1k, includes fanart — Drarry Discord Challenge entry, ft. Autistic Harry)

Draco knew that smile, with the affectionate gleam that meant it was only for him. 

Tenderness washed over Draco when he thought about the cute dimples it revealed in Harry’s cheeks and the crinkles in the corner of his eyes—yet neither compared to his sign of completely unfettered happiness and excitement. 

In those moments, Harry would stim by clapping enthusiastically. 

Smooch (M, 0.2k — T4T fluff, ft. Transwoman Draco)

The energy in the room shifted as Harry gazed at her. It brought a blush out of Draco and her lips curled into a smirk. “Do you like this colour on me, my love?” She asked from under her lashes. 

Harry’s eyes dropped to Draco’s painted lips and his stomach clenched. He met her eyes again and breathed out with a smirk of his own, “You know I do.” 

Fun In The Sun (M, 0.2k, includes fanart — Drarry Drabble Challenge entry, ft. Nonsexual Cg/l with Daddy Draco, Aunty Pansy & Little Harry)

“I’m looking, sweet boy.” Pansy smiled indulgently because even she wasn’t immune to little Harry’s charm. “There’s so much to choose from. What would you like to make first?” 

Harry frowned cutely while he considered that, then he gave Draco an expectant look. 

“Oh!” Draco caught on a moment later, and ruffled Harry’s hair affectionately. “Is this super secret squirrel business?” 

> Bonus Drarry fanart: Frolicking (T — T4T, gender euphoria)

Marvel:

Dreaming Of You (Stucky, E, 12k, includes moodboard — 40s, ft. First times & Transguy Steve)

Steve’s mouth parted and his tongue darted out to lick it automatically, under Bucky’s attention. He pulled Bucky from his daze with a teasing tone, this side of a challenge, “Are you gonna stare all day or show me what I’ve been missin’?”

Bucky met his eyes and while they darkened with want, there was an underlying softness. Steve nearly melted into a puddle from that alone. He never imagined Bucky would look at him as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on him—like he wanted to devour him. It was an utterly thrilling thought.

If You Were Mine (Winteriron, M, 0.9k | Part 1 of My Heart I Surrender, includes a moodboard — Medieval A/B/O, ft. Knight Bucky & Tony, the King’s Omega)

Bucky could see what Tony’s own husband clearly couldn’t and if he were his Alpha, he’d treat him the way he deserved.

Still, that didn’t mean he was longing. 

Natasha finally sighed, her tone serious despite how quiet her words were. “You are playing a dangerous game, Barnes.” 

Tempting Fate (Winteriron, M, 3.3k | Part 2 of the series mentioned above, Chapter 1/?, includes moodboard — More protectiveness and mutual pining)

“Forgive me, Sir Barnes. I should not have asked. That is private, between you and your Omega—”

“I don’t have an Omega.” Bucky walked until he was by Tony and lowered himself to a knee, a sign of respect not often afforded to Omega’s. He flashed him a crooked smile, “So you see, there is nothing for you to be embarrassed about.” 

That charming smile and the gentleness of his voice, the way Bucky reassured him that he didn’t see him as weak, and listened as if everything he said was important… 

For the first time in his life Tony truly felt seen. And safe.

Sweet Surrender (Stucky, M, 3.3k, includes a moodboard — Friends with benefits, ft. D/s & Aromantic Bucky)

Then Steve stretched out much like a kitten would. He tucked himself against Bucky’s side, watching him smoke with half lidded eyes as they basked in their afterglow. Bucky loved this kind of attention, his confidence flourished under it. When Steve caught a glimpse of that charming curl of his lips it was as if he was transported back to their shitty little shoebox of an apartment in Brooklyn. 

A Learning Curve (Winteriron, M, 1.9k, includes a moodboard — A/B/O and angst, ft. Brat Tony & Daddy Bucky)

“I’m a handful, Buck.” Tony reminded him weakly, pulling his focus to the present. He loved Bucky so much he was willing to give him an out. “And I don’t think I could change that even if I tried.”

Bucky flashed him that crooked grin of his, that was smitten and also meant trouble. “I fuckin’ hope so,” he pulled Tony closer by the front of his shirt and ducked his mouth by his ear, “‘Cause I got two big ass hands, ‘n they belong on my pretty Omega.”

The Brat Flag (Stucky, M, 0.8k — A/B/O, ft. Brat Bucky & Older Daddy Steve)

The responding silence was suspicious enough for Steve to lift his gaze from his screen. The second they landed on Bucky, his breath caught in his chest and his cock stirred. 

“So you say,” Bucky hummed softly and carefully undid the tie of his silk robe. The fabric parted just enough to reveal the lace beneath, before he let it fall from his shoulders. “Answer your emails, Daddy. I’ll just be here, entertaining myself…”

Trouble (Stucky, M, 0.6k — A/B/O College AU, ft. Non-binary Bucky & Alpha/Alpha dynamic)

Steve wished he had Sam’s confidence in the matter, but… “Have you seen Bucky, Sam?” Sam couldn’t help laughing under his breath at Steve’s pained tone, he was quite dramatic when it came to Bucky and their attractiveness. “They’re so far out of my league it isn’t even funny.” 

Before Sam could chastise him for that last comment, someone spoke up from behind them with an amused huff. “You looked in the mirror recently, doll?”

The Loveliest Pup (Stony, M, 0.5k — Nonsexual puppy play, ft. Daddy/Owner Tony & Puppy Steve)

Once he was finished Tony gazed down at him and teased, “Oh no, is someone too full for one of his cookie treats?”

It earned an adorable head tilt and affronted ‘ruff!’ from Steve. 

“Of course,” Tony chuckled and mused in a playful tone as if it were life and death, “What was I thinking? My sweet puppy could never be too full for a treat.” 

Thick (Stucky, E, 0.3k — Teasing and denial, ft. Transguy Steve and Daddy Bucky)

Steve was a good boy—Bucky’s good boy—and a spoiled one at that. One of Steve’s favourite things was when Bucky teased him and turned him into a mess, making him feel so good he could hardly think beyond Daddy. 

It was definitely one of those days. 

Ritual (Winteriron, E, 0.2k — Cock piercing kink, ft. Daddy Bucky & Brat Tony)

Bucky watched Tony with half-lidded eyes, steadily leaking precum into his mouth. He ran a thumb around those pretty pink lips and stated, “Best decisions I’ve ever made.”

Tony let out a curious noise so Bucky explained with a smirk, “Making you mine and gettin’ that damn piercing—but fuck if they ain’t both gonna kill me.”

Making Out (Up) For Lost Time (Winteriron, M, 0.1k, includes a moodboard — College AU and dialogue only, ft. Banter)

“Just shut up ‘n kiss me already, pretty boy.”

Heaven (Stucky, E, 0.1k — Finger kink, ft. Older Daddy Steve & Brat Bucky)

Steve stared down at Bucky with a smirk and lifted an eyebrow. “Is there somethin’ you want, sweet boy?” He murmured low and sultry, while he tapped two fingers against Bucky’s lips.

Syrup (Spidershield, M, 0.1k, includes a moodboard — Fluff, ft. Daddy Steve)

“Oh yeah?” Steve nipped at Peter’s bottom lip and then crooned playfully, “So you don’t want Daddy to eat you next, pretty boy?”

Peter’s cheeks tinted pink and he poorly contained a breathy moan, “Well, I suppose I could be persuaded…”

> Bonus Marvel fanart: Reel Him In (Stucky, ft. Bucky in a Wonder Woman costume)

> Bonus Archie Comics fanart: Food > Everything Else (G — Aromantic Jughead)

Tagging: anyone who’d like to! Please tag me if you do, whether it’s for fics, fanart or both I’d love to see🧝🏻💚 I hope the fandom gods are kind to everyone in 2023.

[zestymimblo]

OC Description Tag - Tag Game

I was tagged by @thewardenofwinter, and you can find their post here.

Rules: Share an excerpt from your WIP that describes one of your OCs.

This excerpt is from 'The Strings of Willis Manor'. Within the first chapter of the story, Thistle suffers an attack caused by her illness and her friends come to her aide. Enjoy!

Her head eased up as she saw us enter, and her playing abruptly stopped when her eyes locked on me. In an instant she was in front of me, and doing the exact same things that Clementine had done for me in the garden, except asking more questions than I could possibly answer. Andromeda Marrow has always been… ethereal. Her dark skin gleamed in the soft light that was streaming in through the windows. White freckles danced across her usually-dimpled cheeks, and her dark eyes were a welcoming pool of love and comfort. Her black kinky hair floated around her face and drifted down to her shoulders. She was currently sporting a wrinkle of concern between her brows. Looking at her was like looking at the expanding possibilities of the night sky, and feeling the embrace of the universe. Her red striped dress, with a high collar and short sleeves, pooled around her knees as she knelt down in front of me. In complete honesty, I hadn’t been following what she was saying, but she continued to speak as though I'd been responding the whole time.

I love my baby Andromeda. She's excellent and cool.

I'll be tagging: @the-dragon-chronicler, @avi-why, @surroundedbypearls, @oliverferrie, @morganwriteblr and @imslowlydisintegrating

[green-socks]

TALK TO ME ABOUT cowboy hangman please

You got it my love!!!

(So he's actually still a fighter pilot and not a full time cowboy or anything, it's just titled that because well we've all been there.) This was my first ever top gun wip that I started in june, so the progress has clearly been slow and not steady.

It's Jake x reader, where he goes home to texas after the mission and basically I just wanted the opportunity to ogle him doing farm work (shirtless) and cooing at baby cows and riding a horse and all that sexy stuff ya know. I gave him a sister and became weirdly attached to her. Reader is her good friend and that's why she hangs around a lot.

It definitely shows that this was my first wip for him, but I still think it's a good time. Light and easy fun! I'll give you a silly little snippet:

You burst out laughing when you saw him do his toothpick trick.

“What?” Jake asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh nothing, I just remembered how I saw you do that once, years ago, at the mall parking lot, I think, and thought it looked so cool, I wanted to try too. I gave up after I almost stabbed the pick through my bottom lip. Couldn’t figure out how the hell you did it,” you chuckled.

“You think it looks cool huh?” he asked, grinning, showing off his dimple. “It’s all about the tongue, sugar,” he winked.

wip title game