#-600 words

[tllgrrl]

Ain’t Nothin’ But a Number by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

James “Bucky” Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rating: (Silly/Sweet with a spicy penultimate sentence) Mature.

Summary: After a birthday dinner, including Bucky’s favorite chocolate cake complete with almost fifty-eleven candles, Sam and the boys head out to spend the weekend in NOLA to take in a Pelicans back-to-back home game stand, so Sarah and Bucky can take the weekend off from work and enjoy some rare Alone Time.

In the midst of birthday ”celebrations” there’s an unexpected interruption.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I’m not…too heavy, am I, nandi?”

“Never…don’t stop…”

“Yes, ma’am…”

“I like it…feeling…all of you…”

“Likewise…”

”…James…”

Her right heel is on the back of his left thigh, then she plants her left heel in the mattress.

”…Sarah…”

She slightly shifts her right hip…

”…baby…”

”…y-yeah…”

…and drops her left knee a little…

”Happy Bir—“ [*POP!!*] “UNNH!!!”

“What!?!”

He springs almost straight up into the air, off of her, onto his hands and knees on the mattress, then crawls backwards off the bed.

“No!! Sarah!! Jeez! Are you okay?!?”

“Of course I’m okay, baby!” She gasps and giggles. “Calm d—“

He begins pacing, grabbing and putting on various pieces of clothing.

“Don’t worry! It’ll be okay! I’ll call the paramedics! Holy shit!!! What did I do?!?”

“James…”

“I knew I was too heavy, too much…to be—”

“No, you’re not—“

“Now, I…I broke your hip!!”

“What my what?!? Mthandi, you have not broken—“

“Are you in much pain? Hold on. I’ll go get my First Aid bag! I have some—“

“JAMES BUCKY BARNES, LOOK AT ME!!”

He stops—jeans hanging off his hips, t-shirt around his neck, holding his boxers in one hand, a sock in the other—and does, indeed, look at her.

She’s kneeling in the middle of his bed, wearing his old dress shirt that’s missing the left sleeve, smiling and holding out her hand to him.

“Come here, you.”

Cautiously, carefully, he crawls up onto the bed, kneels opposite her, and gingerly takes her hand.

”What…” He points a metal finger at her hip, “…was that?!”

”That”, she shrugged, “was, in my case, the result of middle age…and a tight hip. It happens. Not usually that loud, though. To be honest, I’m surprised it hadn’t happened before now. It didn’t hurt. I’m fine, okay? Sorry I scared you.”

“Scared? Me? Come on. I wasn’t…I was…concerned.”

“Yeah, baby,” she cooed, cupping his cheek, then gently raking his hair off of his forehead. “You were concerned, all the way off of the bed.”

“Oh! She’s got jokes!” he snickered, hand slowly roaming up her leg, settling on her upper thigh. “So…d’you want me to help you loosen up that other hip?”

“Well…” she raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re up to it? Maybe we should just…call it a night…so you can get your rest.”

He jumps up, takes his jeans off. ”Did you just ask if I’m up to it?” he smiled broadly, letting his eyes take a tour of her, then crawling back onto the mattress as she scooted back to her pillow.

“I mean, you turned another year older today. What’s that make you, one hundred and…eleven now?”

“Yeah,” he crawled closer and rubbed his bearded cheek on her shoulder. “Know what I say to that?”

“You’re only as young as you feel?”

“True,” he chuckles, and starts to unbutton the shirt she’s wearing, “but…no.”

“Age ain’t nothing but a number?” she offers, removing the t-shirt from around his neck, and running her hands through his hair.

“Again, true….but no.” he whispers, before kissing her mouth, her neck, kissing his way down her body, lingering at her breasts to lavish some attention on her nipples, before finally getting to and kissing that hip that popped. Then he opened her knees, kissed her soft inner thighs, and deeply inhaled.

“Well, what do you say to that, Lover?” she smiled down at him.

He gives her a long, luxurious, lick. “Happy Birthday to me.”

”Mmmmm….”

[*pop*]

* * * * *

Also posted HERE on AO3.

Thanks for reading!

[ennard-is-near]

>Be me

> Just moved to neighborhood in Hurricane, Utah

>At a welcome party thrown for me

>Party is fun

>party suddenly stops and neighbors say they have to tell me something

>what?

>they give me a heads up about Michael.

>I ask what the deal is

>he’s not dangerous, you’ll know him when you see him. He’s just Michael.

>confused.png

>Few months later

>see a literal decaying body walking down the street.

>it’s just Michael.

[irisbaggins]

In rewatching the season, I'm noticing how clever Aabria and Brennan were in crafting Tula's story. How well thought out everything was.

Specifically, the bear. It's been mentioned so many times before, but with the context of the completed season, I cannot help but be in awe at the skilful storytelling at display here. The way in which the Blue is described to appear wrong only in reference to Tula and her heart, the way in which Tula talks about curiosity and and having experienced knowing someone who died because of it. Of how Aabria describes to Izzy how Tula looks when she heals the bear, of how Aabria specifically points out that Tula recognises the commonalities between herself and the bear. These breadcrumbs that mean little in the beginning, that tell everything at the end. It's amazing, stunning, masterful storytelling. I am in awe.

[garou-art]

⭐

A lil' angsty, mushy, something-or-other fan comic

Super quick and far from perfect, but this was fun to play with rough lines and colour coded text. I love Kingdom Hearts with my whole being, but boy, this was a fun challenge to write stunted and cheesy dialogue while trying to remain in-character.

Basically, I've been thinking a lot about how Riku had been such a prick growing up, and how despite changing his actions he hasn't ever truly apologized to the folks he hurt. I imagine that after his self-reflection and grievances, he would travel to each world to personally apologize. Also he has cuff earrings.

Also, I'm equal parts proud and ashamed, that the only references I needed were the collars of Riku's younger selves - everything else was from memory

[bizarrelittlemew]

me when i outline

[yurislotusgarden]

ʚїɞ Not just a little crush ʚїɞ

ʚїɞ Port mafia!Dazai Osamu x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ word count: 1k

ʚїɞ Tw’s: literally nothing, just pure fluff of him being down bad

ʚїɞ This is literally just 1k words of Pmzai being down bad, whipped, even lovesick, for his crush🤷‍♀️

How did he end up like this?

The youngest executive in Port Mafia’s history, The demon Prodigy, one of the most feared people in Yokohama if not the whole of Japan, Dazai Osamu has fallen in love.

He tried to tell himself that it wasn't that. That the nice feeling he got whenever he was around you was just because of him standing near, or spending time with a friend, a close one, but denial can go on only for so long.

The brunette at first thought that his crush, as Chuuya had called it when he had caught onto Dazai's more than normally weird behavior, was one-sided. After all, there was no way that someone like you could love him, that just wasn't a possibility in Dazai's mind, yet you decided to go against his calculations once again, you seemed to like doing that and causing him to freak out.

It wasn't too long before he realized that, just maybe, you did at least like him in a romantic way, some acts just couldn't be brushed off as a friend gesture.

One thing he just couldn't brush off, as well as it being the reason he realized his crush may not be one-sided, was him remembering one of the times you cooked him food, even though you were aware how picky he could get with that matter.

///////////////////////////

A figure with brown-haired locks could be seen walking on the deserted sidewalk. Moonlight shone on him as he arrived at his destination, your house.

You always greeted him so sweetly, especially when compared to all the people in his life. Welcomed him like he was a classmate, a friend, a normal person that you both knew he wasn’t. He wasn't treated like a superior, like someone who would kill if the smallest mistake was made around him, and Dazai knew that he liked it from the very start.

Dazai had thought before how would it be if you somehow were in the PM, but to his surprise, he realized he hated, even despised that idea. Something about the concept of someone like you, a person who in his eyes could be an angel for all he cares, being in a dark place full of violence and death like the Port Mafia, was just absolutely not right.

Dazai had arrived at your door, not having to wait long after knocking for the door to be opened by you.

“Dazai?”

You. Oh, the lovely little thing that you were in his eyes. Innocent compared to him, a civilian who somehow met and befriended a feared mafioso without the slightest care in the world.

He had no idea how he managed to get where he was, but he had no regrets.

“Yes, me! Now let me in, it's damn cold!”

///////////////////////////

You disliked crab.

In fact, you disliked most seafood, he was perfectly aware of it, and yet, you did this just for him. 

A crab that could as well look like it was made by a restaurant chef laid in front of him on the table. It looked well-seasoned, the crab’s shell was purely gotten rid of, and the smell wasn’t overwhelming like a lot of food tends to be like to him… you really thought it out carefully. 

“What is this?” It was kind of a stupid question, but he wanted to know your reasons.

“What do you mean? I thought you liked crab?”

“I do-”

“Then shush and eat, you stick.”

What did you just call him? Did he hear it right?

“...’Stick’?” You turned to look at him as he said that, stopping the cleanup you were doing just moments before.

“Yes, have you seen yourself? When was the last time that you ate a proper meal, dear?”

Oh. Goddammit. Don’t get him started on the pet names. He was aware that you used it on people you considered close to you, as long as they agreed, and he’s been lowkey embarrassed ever since you asked for his permission to use them on him, or more like embarrassed on how fast he agreed to that. Dazai didn’t know why he liked it so much, maybe it was because of how no one ever referred to him as such, maybe it was the way you sounded when you addressed him with them, or maybe it was entirely just the fault of your voice but he simply didn’t care anymore.

“I think we both know that you’d rather not know the answer.” His answer caused you to let out a soft sigh, but what he said was kind of true. In truth, he would answer that it was the last time he ate at your place, which on one side wasn’t that long ago, but otherwise, he barely eats anything. You and Chuuya were the only ones getting any kind of nutrition into his body, which he supposed he should be thankful for… not like he’s ever going to voice it out.

“Right. Now eat, I don't need you collapsing on my floor.”

“But I don't wanna!” If any of his subordinates saw him like this, whining because of food, they would be dead on the spot, but he's alone with you, and he’s been over being embarrassed about his behavior with you a long time ago.

You sighed, and he knew that you were about to use the biggest thing you have on the brunet against him, just to get him to eat… Not like that wasn't Dazai’s plan from the start, he's gotta get his fair share of you, doesn't he?

“You eat the most you can and you get cuddles.”

“With you playing with my hair?”

You smiled softly and said, “I'll even add head kisses to the mix.” knowing damn well that it’s gonna win him over.

You knew what you were doing, you had to, and he didn't mind as long as you kept your side of the deal. He's gonna finish that damn plate if it means affection from his favorite person will be solely on him for as long as he wants it.

Hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[kastheory]

steve did not bully eddie in "the past" steve was a grade below him for 3 out of 4 years of his high school career freshman steve heard this weird loudass sophomore talking w his friends at 100 decibels in the hallway about fighting elves in the woods or something (steve did not know what larping was nor care to find out) and then he went to class bc are you insane hes not fucking w a sophomore you dont normally fuck w people ahead of your grade especially if they yell at people and wear chains and get into fights in the woods (with elves?) and you dont even have classes w them. you dont even care much about them in the first place beyond passing gossip like HAVE YOU GUYS EVER BEEN IN HIGH SCHOOL. sorry. anyway.

then steve keeps catching this guy in his periphery over the next two years shouting about board games and controversial food opinions and metal bands that steve likes a few songs from but could not ever imagine giving that much of a shit about. like at all. and by (steve's) year 3 the motherfucker is bouncing off the walls giving speeches about what the hell ever and saying he cant fucking WAIT to get out of this FUCKED UP PLACE!!!! YEP ITS TRUE IN LESS THAN ONE MEASLY YEAR ILL BE SAYING MY SWEET SWEET GOODBYES TO THIS BRAINLESS CONFORMIST PRISON!!!! and hardly anyone reacts beyond rolling their eyes or snickering to their friends about it and this includes steve because who cares literally who cares. this guys been causing a ruckus since the beginning of time and hes weird and unpredictable and not worth trying to shove in a locker he would probably evade the attack anyway like a nimble mouse or squirrel he might even try to bite you. and steve didnt shove anybody in lockers in the first place so who cares and yeah he has pretty eyes and a funny way of talking and moving around but WHO CARES

and then steve goes through the first round of nightmarish shit that would become a yearly ordeal and then wraps up junior year in a perfectly normal not haunted whatsoever fashion. and then hes a senior and in his subtly cringefail era (ongoing) and that freak guy is STILL HERE for some reason and kinda pissed off and possibly a bit devastated about it so okay great now steve has a few classes with this angry weirdo loudguy but. crucially. he has had a lot of OTHER SHIT to deal with lately (MONSTERS ARE REAL) (GIRL DIED IN HIS POOL) (GF RESENTS HIM) (HAS NO FRIENDS) (COLLEGE APPS) so the only effect eddie's constantly loudmouthed & often unwarranted input during class ever has is that it adds a little flavor to the constant metaphorical and literal headache of steves life.

and then he goes through round 2 of shit and finishes his senior year with little hope for a satisfying future ahead of him and never once thinks about that guy again except when his fellow grads whisper about oh my godd did you hear that the freak flunked out again hahaha and yep sure enough eddie's not there at the graduation ceremony. and he thinks huh i wonder what his fucking problem is and then he MOVES ON. the end. thats the extent of """their past""" at least in terms of any actual interactions btwn the two of them i promise okay listen to me. i was there

[manglam-marfach]

Kabru/Mithrun manifesto:

As that other tumblr post says: guy who loves to pull strings/guy who has not strings to pull. Also: Guy who has a lot of power and influence but doesn’t care about it/guy who has very little power and influence but cares about it so much. Delightful.

AND THEN Guy who is trying to develop strings. Asking the other guy: hey I think i might be developing a string? Could you pull it for me maybe? Just to see if it really is there (I mean a sexual desire. I mean fuck me.). Kabru is. Of course. EMBARRASSED AND TURNED ON AND PERPLEXED.

Thoughts in Kabru’s head: Why does he want this? Why does he want me? Does he even want me? Or does he see me as a safe person to fool around with because i don’t have power and influence in elven politics? I’M A THREAT I’M A THREAT I’M A THREAT I HAVE INFLUENCE. Is it a race thing. Is it a race thing. Am I being objectified? I’ll fucking kill him. Wait. Wait. I DO have influence is he playing me? To influence the policies of the Golden Kingdom? Is this an ELVEN PLOT OR SCHEME??? HOW DID THEY KNOW I’D BE INTO IT. What’s his angle. What’s his position. uhh. Position. Positions. Angles. Skin. His arms. His eyes. The memory of holding up his weight. The memory of his cold hands. His eyes looking at me. Looking through me. WHY IS HE ASKING ME HE DOESN'T EVEN SEE ME. Does he even know what he’s asking? Does he really have the ability to consent to this kind of thing? Of course he's not scheming he doesn't care enough to scheme. Of course he's not scheming he doesn't care enough about ME. Or IS HE JUST ASKING EVERYONE. Why do i feel weird about that. Wait [moment of harrowing realisation] am i into him? I am so into him. Is it creepy that I’m into him? Is it creepy that he’s into me? Are his ears as sensitive as other elves ears or -

Thoughts in Mithrun’s head: [30 years of dial up tone] ... ... ... 🍆✔

Holds up my hands. I JUST THINK MITHRUN REDISCOVERS DESIRE AND GETS ADDICTED TO KABRU’S COCK and also actually falls in love with him. All without changing his dead-eyed expression. I also think its funny that Kabru is a twink by human standards and incredibly butch by elven standards. I think Mithrun genuinely appreciates Kabru in a way he hasn’t appreciated anyone in a long long time. I think Kabru feels a little insane about that.

I think Kabru’s mother would be SO. MAD.

[tswwwit]

Have you ever thought of writing your own boon?

Ok, hear me out, but I find your writing style so much more "grabbing" than most modern books I read. I can't really put it into words, but the way the characters act, how they harmonize the way there are (hidden) emotions, little tiny details, foreshadowing, and also a bit of comedy, makes your writing feel so much more attention grabbing, intriguing, and alive. While recently re-reading Faking It, I stumbled upon how much your writing has improved over the years. Thumbs up for you that's impressive!!

(Don't ask me what exactly I mean by all of this, please. English isn't my first language, and I don't have my way with words the way you do. I just got the urge to write this since I had bad luck with the books I read recently, and they just appeared so dull to me. If you have good book recs please share a few. I'm desperate. (Literally, ANYTHING will do.)

ANYWAY

If you ever publish a book, I'm sure a lot of people would buy it.

Thank you for all your kind words!

I figure since I'm not going to stop writing anytime soon, at some point a book is inevitable! But it'd be quite a ways off, as I don't have a concept that really compels me at the moment. If I ever set out on the stormy seas of that particular project, I'll be sure to obnoxiously advertise it to you all.

[sf-bl]

Art-a-Day Day 16:

CCEO AU.

Just after getting Rhys out of Old Haven with his head tangled in a space station.

Taking the very best/worst decision. Jack inside Rhys, Rhys inside Helios. 200% as good as they imagined it'd feel to have the physical/digital pressed right up against their senses. Got a little exploratory. It's better when there's someone in there to feel it with you; don't think about why.

(Immediately followed by Rhys passing out in a cold desert covered in sand and regret.)

[Putting these here to bring the AU all into one tag: https://sf-bl.tumblr.com/tagged/cyber%20ceos mostly Rhack, totally out-of-sequence]

[a11eya]

and what if i’m working on a thing

[morriganravenclaw]

Ok picture this bucky fixing bucks tie because it was crooked or something else on his uniform and that's not something unusual because he helps all of the man with their uniforms. But curt being the little shit he is decides to tease him about it , saying something among the lines.

" thank God you have the wife here to help you, buck " they all laugh about it but for the next couple days bucky can't stop thinking about It.

And gale clocks it because of course he does , he can pick up his moods just as well bucky knows his . And when John egan is uncharacteristically quieter you will notice .

And he probs bucky about it and all he gets back is a mumbled " curts comment " .

Buck would reply back lighthearted

" what you being my wife , you'd make a great wife bucky, always taking care of me "

He really only meant to tease him to make him laugh , what he doesn't expect is a strangled gasp from bucky and for his pupils to be completely blown out .

Something Something slight feminization kink Something Something bucky is madly in love. Something Something buck calling bucky his good housewife , WHAT ?

[megamindsupremacy]

I need more dpxdc crossovers making use of the way technically, Valerie is Amity Park’s hero. Phantom is the menace running around destroying shit with other ghosts, and Valerie is the vigilante who’s dedicated herself to stopping them.

It can go a few ways- a post-reconciliation fic where Danny and Valerie have moved past their rivalry and now they’re buds. bros. besties. running around and corralling ghosts together. the Justice League is working off of way outdated info and they think Valerie is still the sole hero of Amity, fighting off Phantom and other ghosts as they try to take over the Living Realms. They try to interfere with a fight to help Valerie against Danny until they both stop like "dude why are you interfering in our spar, we're busy here, go away" and continue trying to knock each other into the ground.

Or they approach Phantom, thinking he’s the hero and not knowing anything about Valerie, until she shows up and attacks Danny, yelling about how he ruined her life. and now the JL think Phantom lied to them about being a hero and they’re on Valerie’s side helping her hunt down Danny, who is 10x more stressed than he was that morning before the Fucking Justice League started hunting him down trying to capture him while Valerie tells them all about how evil ghosts and Danny are, with help from the Fentons

Or Danny is an established JL member, and the JL doesn’t really know much about Amity or that Valerie exists at all, until they’re facing a relatively big ghost problem and Danny's like “alright we’re calling in the calvary”. The JL expects another ghost, like the clone Phantom apparently has that he brought to work one day, and then some woman shows up, punches Phantom in the arm for never calling her, and then the pair wreck ghostly shit together while everyone watches in awe

Or the reverse, where Valerie is an established JL member or at least auxiliary member, and she’s their on-call ghost expert. Until one day there’s a question she doesn’t have the answer to and she’s like “alright one sec let me call my friend Danny”, and an hour later a ghost flies through the wall, hugs her, yells something excited about SPACE!!! and helps them with whatever problem the JL is having. Everyone is like “hey i thought you hated ghosts?” and Valerie just goes “yeah, but this guy is cool.”

Or the JL approaches Valerie in Amity Park and she introduces herself as Amity Park’s sole ghost-fighting hero, don’t ask what happened to the last guy. Everybody fully assumes she was dating “the last guy” and he was killed by the ghosts, and she took his mantle to get justice. Turns out, no, “the last guy” is Danny and he’s no longer the Amity Park hero because now he’s the ghost king, and he’s in charge of the fuckers now. Nobody ever clarifies that no, Danny and Valerie were not a couple who fought ghosts together until Danny was killed by a ghost, forever warping his personality and forcing him into the position of Ghost King. Because you’re not supposed to ask about it.

There's so much you can do with it, I have so many thoughts

[finniestoncrane]

Can I ask for reader giving Deegan from Fallout 4 a little relaxing blow job for being such a brave and hard working guy? (So nervous but I saw he was in your list and I love him!)

Edward Deegan x GN!Reader, word count: 1.2k don't be nervous!! i'm so glad someone asked for him finally, and this is perfect ;-; i'm writing this post-lorenzo shit, because when he was on the floor all weak URGH my heart ;-; ☢️ request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: blowjobs, sweet deegan!! don't tell me he isn't soft and kind, he put up with jack cabot long enough, smutty fluff, tiny mention of an injury on deegan

It was late, well past midnight, and you moved quietly through the Cabot house as you made your way to Deegan's room, not wanting to wake anyone up. You didn't want to disturb Edward's rest either, but you hadn't been able to sleep for thinking about him, worrying over him after the day you'd been through.

"Edward... Ed? Can I come in?"

Your whispered words were accompanied by a soft tapping of your knuckles against the door. Any louder and you'd wake the whole house. And besides, if he couldn't hear you, then it meant he had managed to fall asleep.

"Sure, door's unlocked."

His voice cut through the silence, gruff, gravelly, louder than yours. You cringed at the sound, worried it might disturb the others who would no doubt interrupt what you hoped would be a private conversation with Deegan. But as you carfeully, so slowly, turned the handle of the door, you could hear nothing else but your own breathing.

You closed the door just as quietly behind you, keeping your voice hushed, but adjusting the volume to a slightly louder one now that you were in the privacy of the four walls.

"Are you ok? You look worried."

Edward was sitting up on the edge of his bed wearing only a pair of underwear. His stomach was wrapped in bandages, but other than that, his body was bare and exposed to your lingering gaze, though it didn't seem to bother him. Realising that you were staring, you turned your head to the side, letting your hand find his hat on top of his dresser, fingers skimming over the shallow brim as you spoke.

"I'm ok, I just couldn't sleep. I was worried about you."

"Really? You couldn't sleep because of me? That's ridiculous. I'm fine."

He patted the mattress beside him, a gentle gesture, welcoming and kind. Once you were resting beside him, he placed an arm around you, pulling you into a comforting side embrace. Physical affection was one of his surprises, a trait you'd never have expected from him, but one that was prominent once you were amongst his "inner circle".

"I know, I know. You're always fine. But how many times can you get knocked around like that and still be ok afterwards?"

"It's been two hundred years so far. I can't imagine I'll be downed any time soon."

You slumped into his body, letting him take your whole weight. The more you relaxed, the more your body slipped until you were laying at an angle uncomfortable enough for you to shift your body. Kicking your legs up onto the bed, you settled your head into his lap, sighing contentedly as he tucked the stray strands of hair behind your ear.

Edward let his fingers travel from your hair to your neck, following down to your shoulder and tracing your upper arm, soft strokes back and forth as he tickled your skin, soothing, comforting. It was more than that though. His strong body supporting you, his surprisingly gentle touch, the way he hummed in satisfaction when you shifted into him. For all he did for you, risking his life, finding you work, convincing Jack to let you stay in the house, and now, comforting you when you'd come to comfort him, you knew he was due more than just an embrace. And you knew you wanted to give it to him.

As you nuzzled your head against his crotch, you brought your hands up to his thighs, skimming your palm against them, travelling upwards until you were at the top of his underwear. Edward sighed against you, a soft, growling moan as he felt your caress against his strong, but tired body.

Tugging the underwear down, you exposed his cock, stiffening already at your touch, pulsing as you let it fall out over the band, bobbing in front of your face.

His hand was against your cheek, warm, delicate, but he was pushing at you, trying to guide you away from him, only easing up when you were focused on him, your eyes trained on his.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You deserve this, Edward."

He closed his eyes, blinking slowly.

"You don't have to do that... this. You don't have to pity me. I do my job, and I watch out for my friends."

"It's not out of pity, Edward. I want to do this. I've wanted to do this."

He put up no fight after those words, instead leaning back on his elbows to give you more room in his lap as you turned your had back towards his cock. WIth your hand gripping the base of his shaft, you let your lips slide down over the head, tongue flitting back and forth, coating it with your saliva to make it easier to bob your head up and down his length.

Your lips bumped over the smoothed ridges of his cock, a texture that was satisfying and new, exciting, different. You could feel the skin warming against your mouth and your tongue, the way his thick, hard dick throbbed at the attention you were giving it.

Freshly washed, always taking advantage of the hot, running water in the Cabot house, Edward didn't taste like much, but you could still smell his musk. And as he relaxed into the pleasure, the tang of his precum settled on your tongue sending you into a frenzy. With your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked, hoping to encourage more of the sweet, salty essence.

Edward choked on his words a little, surprised at how hungry you seemed to be for him. Gently, so as not to incur any more damage to his bruised body, he eased himself down lower, still raised enough though to watch you as you worked your way over his cock.

With a crude 'schlick' you let his cock pop out of your mouth, smiling up at him as you turned your head to the side and ran your tongue up and down his dick, running it through your lips at the angle before you sank your mouth back down over it.

You looked up at him, catching his eyes and smiling even with your mouth full of him, an act that made him blush and lose a little bit of the control he had over his reactions. With a hitched breath, he muttered something, unintelligible murmurs underscored by half-swears and sounds of pleasure.

"Ah... fff... ngh!"

Edward's breathing was heavy, panting, interspersed with moans and groans that only got louder the more you sucked on his cock, tongue swirling over the head as you reach the top and gliding down the shaft as you let the tip hit the back of your throat.

Your fingers travelled up his chest, gripping his prominent chin and playfully shaking it before you placed your palm over his mouth. It was late, and Wilhelmina was a notoriously light sleeper. The last thing you wanted was to be interrupted before you'd had the chance to properly thank Deegan for his bravery and his kindness.

And with the way he had begun to buck his hips up, his hands gripping the sheets as he strained his neck and gritted his teeth, you wouldn't have to wait long to see it through.

[solqrays]

obsessed with the idea that due to the flower valley wall being burnt down by joel, and the events that followed it, jimmy is afraid of fire, or more specifically he believes fire to be a root cause of their destruction, the dare to flare game with lava, the flower valley wall being burnt down, the fact that in empires and xornoth and everything- jimmy believes that fire is a bad omen to destruction and death, the prelude to the canary curse. (thats why in lim life, he knew he would be the first out, because of the fact that the bread bridge was destroyed). flash forward to double life, and jimmy is paired up with tango, a blazeborn with fire for hair. he's the reason they lost their first life and even if jimmy doesnt blame him for it he knows he wouldnt last long in this season. but when he meets tango and he feels like his world has been shifted upside down, because before fire reminded him of death and destruction, of unhappiness and eternal doom. now it reminds him of home, a sanctuary in the death game, he thinks he's finally safe from the eyes of the watchers and that perhaps, just perhaps fire could mean something more than a curse. but alas nothing ever seems to go his way as fire comes back again, messing with his life when scar comes back and burns the ranch- a physical reminder that fire will destroy everything that comes in the watcher's way of torturing jimmy. but little do they know how much the ranch and tango has affected him, when he walks up to tango who is in his rage, flaming hair and hands and everything, he knows rationally that he will get hurt, thanks to his avian heritage and his curse, but at that moment he finds himself not caring, he holds tango's hands, and even if the fire burns his own hands he finds himself not caring. because he was sick and tired of fire getting in the way of things he loved (with scott distancing him after the walls burnt down and then leaving him after he died and joel who used to be his loving and caring brother-in-law betraying him and after the grimlands explosion- forgetting him and turning into a cruel shadow of his former self)- but jimmy couldnt let that happen to him and tango's relationship. he wanted to break the phoenix's cycle, burning up and then reincarnating to lose a small part of himself. he couldnt let that happen and so when jimmy took tango's hands into his own, he wanted to change the watcher's plans, and to pay for that he died again, sooner than expected- but to him it didnt matter anymore, because he finally had someone who would be there for him. his relationship with fire was still shaky, not trusting it completely, but he knew he could trust tango, and he knew that he wouldnt hurt him or leave him be- and even when they returned to empires and jimmy was faced with the cruel remarks of the other emperors and their meaningless insults, he longed to be with tango, to be with his fire. sure he may not be doing the best on empires, but he had someone to live for, someone who would help him break free from the cold clasps of the watchers, and thats what mattered. no amount of fire would break this bond, for it was forged in the brightest flames of love and understanding.

[rockingrobin69]

red-eye

Harry got home a little after two in the morning, bleary-eyed, mouth bitter with the taste of airport canned-air and mints. Rolled the suitcase as quietly as he could, probably making a racket: two in the morning, and he was dizzy-tired, all emptied out from the long layover, and the two-hour wait on the runway, and the taxi ride he absolutely insisted on when his flight was delayed yet again.

Gently, gently opening the door, which creaked so loud the whole world had to have heard. Sneaking inside his own apartment: Draco would be fast asleep, would need to be up at half-five tomorrow for work. Harry’s chest squeezed at the thought, Draco all wrapped up in their duvet, rumpled and sleep-warm, and—

On the sofa, all twisted in between the cushions, arresting and lovely and still in his fancy trousers. With his mobile clenched in his fist. His neck’s going to kill him, and Harry forgot how to breathe.

“Darling,” barely able to swallow the grin. “Draco. Darling.”

“Hmm?” long eyelashes blinking. “Harry? What’s the—fuck, I fell asleep?” grumbling himself up into sitting, flushed and so, so, sweet. “I was going to stay up.” Frowning. “I was going to pick you up!”

“Sorry,” laughing, wrapping an arm around him, trailing kisses down his nose, cheek, neck. Draco’s scent, warm and lemony and familiar, intoxicating. “Silly creature. You have work in the morning.”

“I haven’t seen you in ten days,” Draco yawned into his neck. “Did you bring me anything.”

Still laughing, “Of course. C’mon, let’s get you to bed. It’s so late and you’re—darling, come on.”

To Draco’s grey eyes blinking up at him all sparkling with delight. “Gift first. You know the rules, Potter.” There was a mark on his cheek from where he rested it on his wrist. Harry felt lightheaded with it, a rush of fizzy, scorching affection.

“All right, but don’t get your hopes up. It’s truly a small one this time.”

Leaning away for his case with Draco hanging on to him, smile so thick it hurt his face. “You’re not making it easier,” mumbled into his hair, and a kiss on top of his head, irresistible. “Here, darling.” From the front zip pocket he produced the tiny stone, dark grey with a thin white vein crossing it. “From an actual river this time. I woke up at five the last day of the conference and hiked up the hill.”

“You’re mad,” Draco said, but his smile gleamed. “It’s hideous. I love it.”

“I’m the mad one,” herding him up and then down the corridor, “it’s three in the morning, you absolute knobhead. You’ve no time to sleep.”

“What a tragedy,” Draco said, then turned to pull on Harry’s tie, to pull him closer. “Suppose you’ll have to find a way to keep me up.”

Harry was knackered. He hadn’t slept well in ten days and the flight, and the delay, and the layover. In his own bedroom, with the sheets that smelled like heaven, with the soft light and, god, his bed, his real actual bed, so inviting and so—looked at Draco, felt this warmth sizzling in his belly and growing only warmer.

“Suppose so,” he conceded with a grin, and kissed him again.

It’s been ten days. The plant on the cabinet grew at least three new leaves. Harry missed this place so badly he was sick with it: now, with his partner in his arms, with his back muscles screaming and a no-sleep headache—now he was happy enough to melt. Did, a little, in Draco’s arms.

Home.

(For flufftober day 23. Find the soft AO3 collection here).