#VERY MUCH A WIP. jesus christ

[bromcommie]

Sokovia falls in spring.

Much of it is blurry now, forced into oblivion, but he remembers that part with vicious detail - the unassuming, forgettable prelude to hell; Lazarus Saturday, the intermittent tinkling of bells down their cul-de-sac and the heavy wet air while he sat out on the wide expanse of the balcony, sipping on his lukewarm coffee and sneaking a rare indulgent cigarette while the house was empty. It'd done little to ward against the chill of the morning, the kind of cold that broke him out into consistent goosebumps and seeped down into his bones, seemingly misplaced in early April. The metal railing stuck to the warm skin of his forearms when he leaned over it to peer idly down at the street, to where snow had accumulated in front of the row of brand-new luxury apartment buildings; all alike in their appearance, all that same shiny glass and metal and blinding white that had become popular in the last fifteen years, fifteen years too late in regards to the rest of the world, and that would fall apart in about as many. All laid out like a poor man's idea of opulence and a stark contrast to the unkempt street.

He'd hated it initially - hates it still, really. The cheap sterility of it, this sign of the times made palpable infrastructure that was devouring what was left of a once beautiful neighborhood, clashing with the old, dilapidated villas and steadfastly grey communist architecture. But Sandra had said, it's a peaceful neighborhood. There's a good school nearby. Sandra had said, There's a life for us here, love, and it'll be a good change of pace. Look how beautiful the view is from up here. Sandra had said: just because you grew up in exile doesn't mean Miho should.

And she was right. So a pristine-white, new-century-cold castle on the hill it was. He could still fit his dream of a future in Sokovia into a different shape, he told himself; what mattered was what was inside, anyway.

He'd watched as a gaggle of children slipped and skittered their way downhill from the international school, kicking the stray willow wreaths that had slipped off the heads of previous passersby back and forth until they'd get stuck in the muddy slush, and found himself wishing again that he'd gone with his wife and son to visit her mother in Kralyev Pole. But he was scheduled to go back to Vienna in the morning - it was a familiar rhythm by now - and Sandra had just pressed a firm kiss to his cheek and said we'll see you back home at Easter in a purposeful, loving tone that almost got lost between the distracted flurry of packing and her distant eyes.

Looking down at the murky palette of the street below he'd wished, not for the first time, that it'd all felt a little more like home. That he wasn't itching to be back on that plane out of the country the second he landed, a feeling amped up to 11 the second his family had set foot outside the building.

But then again, Novi Grad had never been his home; not really, not in any way that mattered.

He'd been in a foul mood already when his father called, the glaring absence of sound from the open double doors behind him and the grey sky pressing down over his head like a steel trap setting his teeth on edge. He'd let the phone ring and ring for almost a full minute before guilt had finally, inevitably, won over.

Their conversation had been relatively brief, caught between perfunctory and utilitarian, much like all of their other phone conversations since he'd started splitting his time between Sokovia and work abroad. They talked about the unexpected snow, about what is to be done for the anniversary of his mother's death, about whether Mihailo would like a BMX sports bicycle for his birthday. He'd tried explaining that his son still didn't really know how to ride one well - that at eight, the five-speed he already had was perfectly fine, thank you, but it's a nice thought. His father had just scoffed.

"You were never athletic as a child either, you know. Never climbed trees with the other children. Always too afraid of falling, I suppose," he'd said mostly to himself, and then, "If the kid actually had someone around to teach him, maybe he'd be learning faster."

On a different day, he might've let it slide. On a different day, he wouldn't have let the sentimental old age in his father's voice feel like a personal affront. "Nobody ever taught me, and I learned just fine."

This wasn't necessarily true. For most of his young life, Zemo had been coached by a wide plethora of professionals: French, German, Latin, shooting, violin, tennis, horseback riding, mountaineering, art, diplomacy, you name it - he'd had a teacher for every single one of the skills his parents and his surroundings had deemed necessary for a young man of his stature, and eventually, with more or less effort, he'd excelled at all of them; but never alone. There'd been Katya, the au pair that practically raised him in his childhood, young herself and lost in a foreign country and still the warmest presence he'd had in his life. There'd been Oeznik, who'd governed him with a much stricter hand than his own parents, but who had guarded Zemo's life with his own nonetheless.

It's just that things like big-game hunting and history lessons took precedence over things like bike riding and soccer, which was just as well, really. He never liked being mundane.

At the Academy it was a different story altogether. Unnoticeability, the skill of being no more interesting than the person next to him, only came later, and at a cost.

"Just make sure your Germans let you out in time for Easter," the old man'd muttered, "if they even recognize that sort of thing."

He remembers that part clearly, too, that bitter emphasis: your Germans. Like Zemo'd picked the wrong thing to do with his abundant time and money, the wrong way to employ his very specialized skill set, the wrong side of the family to lean into; like his name and heritage were something he'd picked himself and not something that was hammered into him by way of memorization, that he was taught to take pride in and embody down to the last detail. Like this mild-mannered, West-oriented young man who spoke German and a handful of other languages softly but deftly, who subsumed all his wilder impulses and hid his smoking and all his other dirty habits from his family and from the world behind a courteous smile wasn't an inadvertent yet nonetheless direct creation of the man on the other end of the line. A prince and a baron, turned a lowly gastarbeiter.

"They're Austrian," Zemo'd said simply. "Look, I have to go - Sandra and the kid just came in. I'll talk to you later."

It's not the last conversation he had with his father, but it's the last one he rememebers. Subtle judgement, the smell of smoke and cold and stale Turkish coffee and all those little clear bells, ringing, ringing, ringing: Lazarus rising, just to fall a week later.

Novi Grad falls on his son's birthday, the 11th of April, the day before Easter. It takes everything else down with it.

This was not the first time Novi Grad had fallen. Historically, this wasn't even the first time it’d suffered this extent of loss of life. But it was the first time the ruins were cauterized before something could grow from in between them like weeds out the sidewalk. It was the first time that what was lost was acknowledged as such: dead, gone, our condolences for your loss. Nothing more to be done.

There’d been excuses, of course, and platitudes spoken by the feeble remaining government, echoes of the UN and NATO and the EU he'd learned to recognize as empty long before he started working in security consulting:

We empathize greatly with all Sokovian nationals in this trying time. We’re doing everything in our power to stabilize the situation. We’re doing everything we can to never let a catastrophe like this happen again. It’ll just take a few weeks, a month, a year or two or five to rebuild, but patience is of the essence here.

We’re all very horrified, you understand. There aren’t enough resources for everyone, you see. It’s a very complicated situation, there’s no one answer here – now’s not the time to be pointing fingers. But we’re doing everything we can. We’re sure it’ll be enough.

Daće Bog. That’s what his mother used to say – like a vague handwave to ward off all the legitimate fear and anxiety before it can ever take root in her body, in her home. If she saw even a glimpse of it in her son’s face she’d take it as a clear sign that she had personally failed somehow, which would, exacerbated by alcohol and pent-up emotion, upset and anger her more than the original problem itself. Zemo'd learned how to bury and snuff out these embers of fear very quickly.

There's talk of persecution of royalist dissidents abroad - God will protect us from the infidels, you'll see. The regime changes and the country plunges into economic crisis - so what, it'll pass, God willing, and then we'll be able to return. Yet another war breaks out, nothing but a parasitic twin to the last, devouring the country from the inside out and draining off fresh blood – well, it's nothing new. it'll be alright, God willing we'll get the bastards before they get us. Crkli dabogda.

And he’d just nod his little head and allow, very neutral, very acquiescing for the tender age of nine, thirteen, sixteen - sure, of course, it'll all be fine. Much later, he'd adjust the poorly-fitted camouflage greens that would squeeze too tight around his neck and say in that same steady tone of voice into the payphone receiver, Don't worry, mama, don't worry, it'll be taken care of. Daće Bog.

That’s all she’d ever say on the topic, or any topic really. God save us, God willing, God will provide – that was her eternal refrain. Well that and, just you wait until your father gets home, if she'd perceived him to be acting up somehow - more often than not by virtue of sheer existence alone.

This was, of course, yet another half-truth - his father never really took to beating him. There were always bigger things to worry about, things that belonged to the grander picture - too wide for him to fit into as an important variable and just manageable enough to squeeze into his young body like a manifestation of a future his father was pouring all his hope and dreams into.

Either way, the fear was there. The fear of disappointing, of coming up short to the ideal of what a son should be; it was all it took to keep him in line. Father, God – they became two sides of the same coin, the same promise of impending judgement. Both instilled far more trepidation in him than comfort.

It’s only when the bulldozer finally digs up what remains of their old country estate and he can pull his father’s unrecognizable, mangled body into his lap – so small and frail, when did his father get to be so small and frail? – that he thinks: what was I so afraid of all those years?

*** Excerpt from my Zemo character study - turned out to be much longer than a snippet, but I got carried away. Still very much a WIP, but thought I might as well post it until I figure out where I want to go with it.

Translations: Daće bog - God will provide, God willing Crkli dabogda - may they all die, God willing gastarbeiter - (German) foreign or migrant worker

[themyscirah]

Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

[musical-chick-13]

The thing is, that I want to write about topics that are important to me. Not exclusively, obviously not everything is some Big Personal Thing, but I do want to express them because there are discussions to be had, and people are not having them. People are SO AWFUL about...quite a lot of concepts, really.

And at the the same time, there is the constant impulse to go, "Well you don't get my thoughts or my writing on this subject until you learn how to stop being so fucking Weird™ (derogatory) about this topic."

[cream-and-tea]

LAY ME DOWN. chapter seven excerpt. unedited. featuring: agnes’s first meeting with several students of The Library after pallas is forced to go to them for help. mention of injuries. threats of violence and just a Lot of unresolved tension

[Transcript under the cut.]

hello and welcome to another instalment of This Book Has More Than Two Characters I Swear! this time we have judge, calliope and max, a trio of oddballs who pallas has a history with and agnes is meeting for the first time. they’re all really fun to write (calliope especially) and have really grown on me as the plot has progressed lol

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-).  @vellichor-virgo​ @nicola-writes​ @doctormoss​ @gerbermatter​ @cactusprincewrites @houndmouthed @muddshadow @aeipathys @just-wublrful @midnights-melodiverse @corkywantstowrite @paradisiacalshroud @andromedatalksaboutstuff

The one all in white cocks her head to the side, face twisted in a weird not-smile. Agnes has never seen a girl with hair this short and bright before, a soft cap of copper offset by a multitude of dangling earrings, little charms hanging from pastel ribbons that tinkle whenever she moves. Her face is very oval and her smile is very crooked and wide across it, freckles wrinkling up around her nose in disdain.

“Would you look at that Judge? It’s the principal's little lapdog,” she says in a high, dramatic drawl. “Thought you’d finally gone and found a hole to die in Bloodhound, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

She bows mockingly and from behind the shelves Agnes winces, but Pallas doesn’t even blink. 

“Ah Calliope, glad to see you’ve lost none of your charm,” they say cooley. “Your nights have been restful, I presume?”

The girl in whites smirk shifts into a very unlovely snarl and she moves forward. But before Agnes has time to squeeze her eyes closed a hand comes forward to rest on Calliopes shoulder. From her narrow view between the shelves Agnes can see the third figure stepping forward, touch instantly setting her friend to rest. She’s tall, wrapped in a long tweed coat with straight, narrow black braids framing a straight, narrow brown face, and Agnes is struck in the moment by just how small Pallas is. Smaller than her and definitely smaller than this person. They look almost frail in comparison.

“Easy, it’s not worth it,” the second girl says, her voice deep and raspy and flat. Then, to Pallas: “What do you want?”

“A favour.”

“Interesting idea, one counterpoint: why would I ever do anything for you?”

“Because you owe me Judge. Because if it wasn’t for me you’d be dead.”

At this the one called Calliope starts laughing until a stern “Cal, please” cuts it off. Agnes has never been good with expressions but she thinks the girl with braids—Judge—looks more confused than anything else, a tiny divot appearing between her dark brows. “You’ve never asked for anything before, why now?”

“I’m very tired,” Pallas says and Agnes takes a moment to marvel at how a conversation can somehow sound like the clash of steel on steel. “And I don’t want to go through the mess of making Max’s little brain come out his ears to get you to listen. I'm not going to take chances on this. It’s quite delicate.”

Calliope’s face twists again and she steps further in front of turtleneck boy. There’s something off about her eyes. This is a place filled with terrifying people with weird eyes. “Wanna say that again you demented little–“

“Cal. Not. Worth it.”

“But—“

“They’re trying to rile you, it’s what they do,” Judge says, knowing and measured, straight-edged profile facing her friend before she turns back to Pallas. “Spare the theatrics Bloodhound, and tell me what it is you need. I can decide whether it’s worth my time from there.”

Agnes is starting to think that Pallas smiling is never a good thing, this one is tiny and contemptuous and probably means you are but a tiny ant and I will not hesitate before squishing you very badly under my chunky black boots, or something like that. Judge doesn’t seem like she can be squished, but there’s a first time for everything. “It’s funny you think this is a negotiation, but all right.”

And then they turn and their awful, awful eyes meet hers from between the books. They make an unmistakable beckoning motion with their hand and Agnes has to scramble to drag herself up, avoiding putting pressure on her bad ankle. She pokes her head out from behind the shelves and waves slightly, unsure of what else to do. 

“She’s hurt,” Pallas says, not even sparing a look her way. “You’re going to heal her.” 

The redheaded Calliope makes a whistling sound between her teeth and says: “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Then she turns towards Judge, who’s already looking Agnes up and down in a way that makes her feel the most awkward she’s ever felt in her life. It’s a magnifying glass stare, one that catalogues and processes, every inch of her laid bare. The line between Judges eyebrows deepens and Calliope says again, now in a tone of complete exasperation and disbelief: “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Cal–“

“Nope. No way.”

“Calliope–“

“We’re not helping the creepy little murderer! Group Rule Number One is not helping creepy little murderers!”

“Group Rule Number One is about healthy communication.”

“Semantics!”

The boy in the black turtleneck and glasses looks out from behind Calliope. The short crop of dreadlocks on top of his head have been strung through here-and-there with colourful beads that pop against his dark clothing. Agnes gives him a nervous smile, hoping that her mouth is moving the way mouths are supposed to move when they smile, and is relieved beyond measure when he raises one hand in a tiny wave. Agnes leans against the towering bookshelf, feeling a lot like she’s stepped into a place she shouldn’t be while Pallas makes a show of examining their nails. 

“It’s just one girl. It won’t cost me anything.” 

“Oh don’t ignore basics, there’s always a cost. And besides, it’s Bloodhound business!” Calliope hisses, pointing as the Bloodhound picks a tiny bit of dirt from under their left ring fingernail.

“Calliope, please,” Judge says in a voice that Papá used on Mother all the time. The I don’t wanna fight voice. The we can talk about this later but not right now voice. Agnes' face burns from just looking at the two of them. Her ankle and throat will probably be fine, why did Pallas have to bring her here at all?

Calliope puts her face in her hands in what must be defeat because Pallas smiles a smile like a crack in marble, and Judge sighs in a soft, exhausted kind of way that makes guilt bubble like mud in Agnes’s stomach. 

“Okay,” she says. “But you’ve got to do something for us.”

Pallas raises an eyebrow. “I’m not bartering with you Judge.”

“Tough luck,” Judge deadpans. She turns to Calliope and the boy in black: “Max-Attack, Cal, this’ll only take a few minutes.” And then looks directly at Agnes, who jumps: “Come on then, we don’t have all day.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Haircut

Summary: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.

Word Count: 2.1K (I sprinted to write this after I saw this picture)

Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) Oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, (lovingly?) possessive Javi, Javi's back at again with his filthy mouth, hair pulling, Javi is hungry and the man is gonna EAT, allsions to more smut, Jonas Brother's references ( bc Javi is our girl dad king and his daughters love them LMAO)

A/N: Y'ALL REALLY THOUGHT THIS PICTURE OF PEDRO WAS SURFACE RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR DOT COM AND I WASN'T GONNA DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!? WRONG. I legit have 3 WIPS I started in the past 24 hours based on this picture alone. Pedro really did this one for the Javier Peña girlies (gn) and I will forever be in debt to him for that. You cannot tell me that this is Dad!Javi when his kids are a little bit older bc HOLY SHIT?! This really may the nail in the coffin for @notjustjavierpena and I bc really fear this is the dilfiest Husband Javi has ever looked 😩😵‍💫 anyways, never getting over this!!!!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“God, I can’t even remember the last time my hair has been this long. Lucy keeps saying I look like a Jonas Brother. Am I supposed to know who they are? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Javi sighed, playing with his dark brown curls in the bathroom mirror as you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, peeking out to watch your husband’s longer than usual locks twist between his fingers. 

“They’re the goofy looking boy band on Disney Channel that the girls are obsessed with. Like the Backstreet Boys, except cooler, apparently.” You laughed, planting a soft kiss into the fabric of Javi’s worn t-shirt covering his broad back before stepping next to him, leaning your hip against the bathroom counter to admire your husband as he fiddled with his hair. 

“Jesus Christ, those guys? God, I really do need a haircut before I start looking like the poster what’s-his-face hanging on Lucy and Elliot’s walls.” Javi chuckled, running his hand through his hair once more before mirroring you, his hip resting against the counter, leaning his weight on his palm splayed flat along the granite surface. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think he’s supposed to be the best looking one.” You teased, giving Javi a playful shrug. “Besides, I like your hair long.” 

“Seriously?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “It looks like a mop right now.” 

“A very sexy mop.” You smirked, nudging Javi before stepping closer into him, reaching up to run your hand through his curls, slowly twisting the ends with your fingers. “It reminds me of that trip we took to Jamaica a few years ago. Your hair was almost this long, remember? You looked so hot in those stupid floral button downs you insisted on buying, and hanging out shirtless by the pool all day while you played with the girls.” 

“Fuck, I forgot about that. I’m surprised we didn’t end up with a fourth kid after that trip.” Javi chuckled, slowly shifting the palm that had been holding him up towards your waist, letting his fingers gently toy with the waistband of your pajamas. “You really like my long hair that much?” 

“Mhmmmm.” You cooed, continuing to close the gap between your bodies, your free hand resting on Javi’s chest as the other continued to stroke his curls. You could feel a low groan rumbling in Javi’s throat as your fingers weaved back and forth through his hair, the other creeping up to cradle his jaw, thumb tracing back and forth across the stubble on his cheek. 

“Yeah? What else do you like about it?” Javi groaned, his hand slipping under the elastic waistband of your pants to grab a fistfull of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand. 

“I like…” You paused, bringing your lips to Javi’s, pressing a tender kiss on his lips, “I like that it gives me something extra to hold on to.” 

“Hold on to?” Javi asked, cocking his head in slight confusion. 

“Hold on to when you go down on me. I love being able to run my hands through your hair when you eat me out, especially when it’s long like this.” You smirked, watching Javi’s eyes go wide in delight, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he bit down on his lip. 

Before you could say anything else, Javi’s hands were gripping around your waist and hosting you up to sit on the counter, caging his body against yours, hands planted around the outside of your hips while his lips crashed into yours, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth. 

“Fuck…” Javi whispered to himself, pulling away from your lips to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck, running his hands over your thighs. “I love it when you play with my hair, Hermosa. Love feeling you pull on it when you’re close. Makes me lose my fucking mind every time. Fuck, I’d stay burried between your legs forever if I fucking could.” 

Javi began to let his kisses trail down your body, past your chest and across your stomach before he was dropping to his knees in front of you, draping your legs across the width of his shoulders. Pulling at your waistband, you lifted your hips off the counter so your pajamas and underwear could fall to the floor, revealing the wetness that had been pooling between your thighs since you had walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago. 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered, further parting your legs to see the arousal already dripping through your folds, staring up at you with a boyish grin on his face, “So fucking wet for me, Hermosa. Didn’t realize you liked my hair that much.” 

“Oh shut up you goof, you know I- o-oh fuck-” You whimpered, Javi cutting off the rest of your sentence as the flat of his tongue dragged across your cunt, the suddent sensation making you gasp in delight, already playing in to Javi’s plan as your hand shot down to his head, digging your fingers into his messy hair. 

“Better hold on tight, querida. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Javi smirked, pulling away just enough to see the smug smile between his cheeks, peppering a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his head was back between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit, already aching and throbbing for more of what you had just been promised. 

“Do your worst, Peña.” 

That one sent a low growl of approval humming through his chest, laughing to himself as his hands gripped tighter around your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your skin before another slow, broad stroke of his tongue was traveling through your folds. 

While you were truly convinced there wasn’t another man who loved going down on their wife more than your husband did, you could always tell when Javi wanted nothing more than to stay buried between your thighs, making you cum over and over until you were begging him to stop, lapping up every last drop of you until there was nothing left to give, and right now, you already knew Javi meant what he said when you were about to have to hold on for dear life. 

The hand buried in the dark waves of Javi’s hair only began to tug tighter as his tongue began to work meticulously across your cunt, pressing just enough pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves to already have you a squirming, whimpering mess, but painstakingly slow enough to have you begging for more. 

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face. 

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt as he eased one, then two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down. 

“Oh my god, f-fuck. You feel so good, baby.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked another long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine. 

“Fuck, I love this perfect pussy so much. I still can’t believe she’s all fucking mine. My perfect fucking wife. Tell me, Hermosa, whose pussy is this?” Javi asked, pulling away for you to see your slick covering his mustache and the lustful look pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, the quiet possessiveness of his tone making your cunt clench even tighter around his fingers as they continued to pulse in and out of you. 

“It’s y-yours, Javi, It’s all- fuck- It’s all yours.” You whined, your breath hitching in your throat as you spoke. 

“And who’s the only one who makes you feel like this, huh?” Javi tutted, sliding a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting making you let out a ragged whimper as you threw your head back in pleasure. 

“Y-you- Jesus- Y-you are, Javi.” 

“And who’s gonna be a good girl and soak my face when she cums for me?” 

“M-me.” 

“That’s fucking right, you are.” Javi growled before diving back between your legs, working his tongue relentlessly against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your core, eating you up like a man starved, desperate to make you fall apart. 

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around him. 

At this point, your fingers were tugging so tightly around the soft, brown curls of his locks to try and hold yourself together, that you were convinced that you were close to pulling his hair out of his skull, but with the way you were on the brink of collapse from the way Javi’s mouth was working against your cunt, you almost didn’t have a choice. 

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop.” 

“I won’t stop, mi amor. Won’t stop until this pretty pussy fucking soaks me.” Javi mewled, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Promento. Damelo, bebita. (I promise. Give it to me, baby).” 

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder as your hands stayed buried deep in his hair, grasping onto his now sweat-dampened ends to try and pull yourself back down to reality.

After a few moments of letting you come to, Javi gently pulled out his fingers, all three drenched and glistening with your slick, pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face. 

“God, you taste so fucking sweet. You really weren’t kidding about the hair, huh Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, cupping your jaw to cradle your cheek with his broad palm, forcing your gaze up at him. 

“I told you.” You giggled softly, still trying to catch your breath as you smiled at him, pulling him in for another long, tender kiss. “Hottest looking Jonas Brother I’ve ever seen.” 

The two of you burst out into laughter, practically snorting at your comment, taking a second to compose yourselves as Javi crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you. 

“If that’s the fucking case, I’m getting out the clippers tonight.” 

“Not until you take me to bed and do this all again, you aren’t.” 

taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

[garbinge]

BIO-HAZARD

Leroy Jethro Gibbs x F!Reader // Word Count: 670 Summary: Based on S2E22, Swak. When Tony opens an envelope with an unknown white substance, Gibbs gives you a call to give you a heads up. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Light angst. Bio-Hazard material mentions, banter. A/N: A little small Gibbs fic I've had in my WIPs for a while :)

When the phone rang, it was clear you weren’t expecting the news that it was ringing with. You thought it’d be a quick minute to tell you he’d be home late, again. Which never bothered you, you knew Gibbs was married to the job just as much as you. It was more of a disappointment these days than anything else. You had a few weeks off and were taking the opportunity to be home, catching up on relaxing and being still. Two things Jethro was never good at. Currently, you had decided to give baking a try, the kitchen was a disaster, and so were the brownies you were attempting to make from scratch. 

“Why do people bake again?” You answered the phone, wiping some batter off your forehead and moving to the sink to wash it off. 

You couldn’t see it, but Gibbs gave a slight smile, a disappointing one as his eyes shut. All his way of preparing to tell you as he realized how good of a mood you were in. He was able to see past your disdained comment to know despite failing at baking, you were having a damn good time doing it. 

“Oh no, you’re doing that silent brooding thing that usually means you’re gonna be home late. Look I don’t normally mind, but these are my last few days home before I’m back on the job and I’ll be the one calling you that I’m coming home late.” 

You were met with more silence. 

“Jethro?” You stopped what you were doing and grabbed the phone with a slight eagerness. 

“We got a letter sent here with white powder in it. Got opened up in my bullpen.” His voice was solemn–straight to the point. Giving you the information he had and you needed. Nothing else. 

“Jesus Christ.” You felt like you needed to be moving, grabbing your keys to go rescue him even though every logical fiber in your being knew there wasn’t anything you could do. 

“We’re on lockdown here until we know more. I’m workin’ with Duck. Everything’ll be fine.” His voice was so calm, it was so like him, if you wanted to be with anyone in a crisis, it was Gibbs for this very reason.

“You know, you say that every time and it never makes me feel better.” You fully let go of the idea of rescue now, trying to wrap your mind around what you were going to occupy yourself with while you waited for more information from him which definitely wasn’t going to come now. You had to be just as strong as Gibbs was right now. 

“But every time it’s true, right?” Now you two were talking like there wasn’t a biohazardous emergency at hand. 

You tossed your head back and forth before teasing him. “99% of the time.” 

“What’s the 1%?” 

“When you forgot our anniversary. I’ll get a last minute reservation for tonight, everything’ll be fine.”  You mocked his famous words from that one forgotten anniversary. 

“I recall everything being more than fine that night.” The power he had to be making sexual innuendos to you in a moment like this. 

“We ate goldfish and whiskey for dinner.” And the power you had to continue the conversation just the same. 

“Wasn’t talking about the food.” 

After smiling to yourself over the quiet line, you brought the conversation back to the reason he called. “Call me with updates please.” 

“Yes, boss.” 

That earned him a bigger smile from you. Always did. It made you not want to hang up the phone yet even though you knew you were on a short timeline. “How’s Abby?”

“A working wreck.” His answer came quickly, and you could tell he was on the move now. 

“Me and her both.” You took a deep sigh. “I’m gonna be at the edge of my seat all day.” 

“Work on that brownie recipe. I’m gonna need one when I get home.”

Divider by @realitycanbewhateveridesire *ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🕵️ NCIS Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @ilovemark1951 @shamelessturtlebeliever (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[obsessedobsesser]

It's been a while since I put together Part 1 of my GO fanfic recs. Having read a ton more since then, I figured it was time for another list.

In no particular order:

1. 'On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller)' by RockSaltAndRoll (Explicit)

This fic takes place in 1941 with MI5Agent!Crowley and bookseller!Aziraphale. Aziraphale is first recruited by, who he thinks, is an MI5 but turns out not to be. Crowley, an actual MI5 Agent then recruits him to "double cross the double-crosser". Lots of pining and badassery (from both sides) ensue in this one!

2. 'Ricochet' by NaroMoreau (Explicit)

I'm a sucker for anything written by Naro but 'Ricochet' has become one of my favourite fics of theirs. Crowley is missing his angel after S2 and ends up summoning another version of Aziraphale. So, we get 1 Crowley, 2 Aziraphale's. The best mix. The writing in this is *chef kiss*. How Naro writes Crowley's pain and the characterizations of the 2 separate Aziraphale's -- just gorgeous.

3. ‘Terminus’ by BraveLight (Teen & Up Audiences)

I had no idea how much I needed an Astronaut!Aziraphale and MissionController!Crowley AU in my life until I read this fic. They have to team up to get Aziraphale home, but there’s way more to the mission than meets the eye. The twists and turns had me clicking 'next chapter' instantly. And the way Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship is written is so gentle and romantic—it’s perfect.

4. "Villainous" by IneffablePenguin (Explicit)

This is THE fairy tale AU you need to read! Crowley (Crow) is a sorcerer, and Aziraphale (Azra) is a prince—this fic honestly feels like it belongs on a best-seller list. IneffablePenguin has a real gift for painting vivid scenes that are so easy to picture. And those final chapters? They totally got me. I couldn't put this fic down.

5. "Cilice It To Say" by izzyspussy (Explicit)

Ho boy. This will be a fic I'll think about often. It's up there with the one I mention next. It's not as explicit as some of the other I've read but jesus christ. As it says on the tin: Crowley has a kink - The kink is Aziraphale. This is big on divinity kink, if that's not your jam, you may not like this one.

6. "Tether" by Ginger_Cat (Explicit)

It's coming up on a year of reading this fic and I think about Chapter 6 constantly. I don't want to spoil it but let me tell you, it's worth it. Aziraphale, now Supreme Archangel, keeps getting summoned back to Earth by Crowley but they don't know why.

7. "Intermezzo" by FeralTuxedo (Explicit)

Aziraphale is a music critic who, back in the day, tanked Crowley’s classical music career with a harsh review of his debut opera. If my fic recs haven’t given it away yet, I’m all about that bickerflirting, and this fic provides. It's also by FeralTuxedo. Anything written by them is 10/10.

WIP'S

8. “Reclaimed” by gallifreyshawkeye (Mature):

Are you in the mood for some Crowley Whump? If so, this fic DELIVERS. Gallifreyshawkeye knows how to paint a very vivid image of injury, so do mind the tags. This takes place 4 years after S2 and Crowley gets dragged down to hell by Satan in front of Aziraphale. It's honestly one of my favourite WIP's at the moment. I am on the edge of my seat whenever a new chapter comes out.

9. "Wavelengths & Frequencies" by imposterssyndrome, shades_of_eccles_cakes (Explicit)

Who doesn't love an enemies to friends to lovers story? While this fic only has 3 chapters so far, I am hooked. But hey, you give me a fic with Crowley and Aziraphale as radio hosts, I am there! I'm so excited to see how this develops and to see more of our 2 idiots going at each other.

10. "Stroke Play" by moonyinpisces (Explicit)

Moony knows how to write pining and I am here for it. In this AU, Crowley competes in beach volleyball, while Aziraphale takes on the golf course at the 2024 Olympics. They're both so down bad for each other but no one communicates. I love it!

Got any good fic recs? Send them my way :) Sharing is caring.

[elvensorceress]

wip wednesday

tagged by @hoodie-buck @exhuastedpigeon @eddiebabygirldiaz @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @diazsdimples @tizniz @heartshapedvows @theotherbuckley be sure to read their lovely snippets! 💕 tagging @spotsandsocks @shortsighted-owl @hippolotamus @messyhairdiaz @rogerzsteven @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @bekkachaos @daffi-990 @wh0re-behavi0r @eddiediazisascorpio @evanbegins @confetti-cupcake if you want to share anything 💕 More Unless because I WILL finish this monster. I WILL.

Eddie leans down, but only a little because his son is already ridiculously tall, and kisses Chris’ forehead. “You know you’re my favorite, right?” 

Chris rolls his eyes but grins. “Buck can be your favorite, too. I know he is.”

“It’s different. You both are. But you are always first. He thinks so, too. You’re our son. We love you more than anything.”

The smile fades a little and then disappears as quickly as it appeared. “He’s going to stay with us, right? He’s not going to leave?” 

Why is it always Chris who can so effectively drive a knife through Eddie’s chest with the way he’s suffered and lost and been in pain? Chris never should have had to experience so much pain. “Yes, Chris. He’s going to stay with us.” 

Chris gives him that pointed, very Shannon look that twists the knife so well. He sounds fragile and so much closer to being the heartbroken six year old who missed his mom than he is to being the teenage survivor that he is. “Promise?” 

He can’t promise that. Eddie can’t even say he believes it himself all the way. Why wouldn’t he fuck up and lose the best thing that’s ever happened to them? Why wouldn’t Buck get tired or fed up and leave Eddie? 

Eddie’s not enough for him. 

“I promise Buck is never going to leave you, okay?” Eddie tells him and it has to be enough. “You’ll always have him. He’s not going to stop being your dad for any reason.” 

Chris just looks at him with unending sorrow and eyes full of tears. “What about you? You need Buck, too. I know you do. He’s also your favorite and your ‘more than anything’ and he’s both of ours and I don’t want him to leave you either. I know how sad you were, Dad. I know you were. You’re not the same without him. You need him. We both need him. I don’t want you to be sad like that ever. I don’t want to— I don’t want to lose Buck like we lost Mom. He’s my dad and you love him and I don’t want to do that again. We can’t do that again.”

Jesus Christ. Can he have a chance to not be stabbed through the heart, thanks? 

“Chris—” What the fuck does Eddie even say? “Buck will always be my friend. Even if we don’t— even if—” 

He can’t breathe. He can’t. There’s no air. 

He has to swallow and get it together. It’s fine. He’s fine. The mere thought of having to break up is not going to make him panic. The thought of Chris losing another parent cannot make him panic either. 

It’s just— it’s not great. The whole idea of losing Buck is awful and he hates it and doesn’t want to even think such a thing let alone talk about it. 

But he has to say something. He has to reassure Chris. He blinks back his own tears and he can do this. They’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay. It has to. “If dating him doesn’t work out, Buck and I will still be friends.” 

They will be. Their relationship is so much more than dating and kissing and being in love. It’s strong enough to survive anything. It would be awful and Eddie honestly doesn’t know if he’d ever stop being in love with him even if they had to face the horrible reality of a divorce. How could his heart ever stop wanting Buck? But they would find a way to be friends. 

They might not be able to have a marriage, but they have to be in each other’s lives. That is nonnegotiable. They’d figure it out. 

“And he’d still be your dad,” Eddie adds. “None of that would change.”

Chris sniffs and still frowns. But he tries to at least look like he buys it. “He wouldn’t live here with us though.”

“No, probably not. But in a few years, you won’t want to live here either. You’ll want to go to college or get some fancy job or maybe you’ll travel, but you’ll have your own life to live wherever you want and do whatever you want. You won’t be here either.” 

It was supposed to be comforting, but it only makes Chris’ tears overflow. He goes back to hugging Eddie as tightly as possible and trying to stifle the way he cries.

Eddie simply hugs him in return and wishes he could banish away all his pain and anguish. But he doesn’t know how they would make it through losing Buck either. They would. They would have to. They have each other. 

But Buck is missing pieces and filled in needs and worlds of love and support for both of them. Eddie doesn’t know how they’d keep going if all of that is ripped away. They would, but. How? 

One step forward, one more breath. That’s all you can ever do. That’s what Bobby and Athena told him before. That’s all anyone can do. 

Eddie closes his eyes tightly and has to shut it off and he just needs to comfort his son. He can do that. He just needs to protect and love his son. 

After a tiny second of quiet, there’s movement at the doorway to the kitchen. And then Buck is wrapping around them both. Until they’re holding Chris between them while also gripping each other. 

They’ve all been through so much loss, so much trauma, why wouldn’t the scariest, most horrible nightmare imaginable be the thought of losing each other and their little family? 

Buck kisses them both, Chris on the side of his head and Eddie on his cheek, and he whispers promises of infallible, irrevocable love. Because he’s nothing if not his unfailing heart. 

[shellshocklove]

my first wip wednesday

tagged by: @hellishjoel 🥺🫶🏼 this is also my first wip wednesday, so thank you so much for tagging me! <3 i feel like i'm a little on the outside of the pedro fic community, so it's very nice to be included! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

this is from part 3 of joel's brat summer 💚 (brat tamer!joel miller x female!reader) this was the last thing i wrote last night and she's still a pain in his ass lol

Stepping away, he nodded towards the bed, an unspoken order, while his hands found his tie around his neck where he tugged at the knot. You sat at the foot of the bed, knees pressed together, waiting for him to make the first move. The white sheets smelled strongly of detergent, nothing like the faded hints of his cologne mixed with sawdust you’d smelled on his own sheets that first night he’d fucked you.  The tie slipped from his neck and you fell back on your arms, feigning boredom while you let out an audible sigh. It made him laugh. “What’s so funny?” you queried, your brows pulled together in a frown.  A smile leftover from his chuckle coated his lips as he stepped closer, your legs spreading for him to slot between. “Nothin’.”  He threw the tie on the bed beside you, and wrapped a hand tightly around your upper arm, then he tugged.  “Hey!” you said, fighting against his grip as he manhandled you. He turned you roughly, his other hand fingering the zipper of your dress, while the other held you in place. “Be careful with the dress,” you whined. “Stop actin’ like a fuckin’ child,” he muttered, helping you out of your dress.  “A child? Well… that doesn’t bode well for you with what you’re about to do.” That stopped him in his tracks, eyes burning as he let go of you. “Jesus Christ,” he hissed, “you’re fuckin’ unbelievable.” Freed from his grip, a smirk pulled at your lips as you shuffled up the bed. Leaning back on your elbows, you seductivly parted your legs for him, showing him the darkened patch of fabric scarsly covering your cunt. “You keep saying that,” you smiled, saccahrine and sticky like sirup.  “I’ll stop when you finally start behavin’.” His hand wrapped around your ancle, tugging you towards him with a hard jerk, making a giggly squeal escape you.  “Never.”

no pressure tags: @dustydaddyyy @guiltyasdave @perotovar @javier-pena @mrsmando

@cavillscurls @thundermartini @ovaryacted @tonysopranosrobe <3

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

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

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

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

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

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

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

“File” Names

Stripper AU

Sugar Baby!Steve/Sugar daddy!Eddie

Metal Band AU

Olympic Swimmer AU (here)

Snippet

From the new story:

Eddie Munson was in deep trouble and he knew it. He had been arrested with enough weed on him to know it wasn’t for personal use. Possession with intent to sell. Thank god it happened two weeks before his eighteenth birthday otherwise he’d be facing real jail time and not... community service?

Wait, what?

He was expecting probation at the very least. But nope. He was sentenced to five hundred hours of community service as it was his first offense, he had a troubled childhood, and apparently the God damned Chief of Police on his side. Who had said that he was a good kid who protected the weak and participated in afterschool programs to help teach them math, creative writing, cooperative skills, troubleshooting, and time management.

Eddie’s lawyer told him before Hopper was to testify at his sentencing hearing that he could not laugh, could not chuckle, could not even so much as snort or smile. When Eddie asked why, he was told he couldn’t be told that or else it would be seen as influencing his testimony. And then Hopper got up on the stand and said that.

D&D. Eddie DM’ed D&D after school. Jesus Christ did it take everything he had not to show any emotion at all.

****

It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!

It's the last day of the month so let's finish it strong!

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

@mira-jadeamethyst @zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate

@acingthecounts @beelze-the-bubkiss @just-a-tiny-void @kultiras @niniel-karenine

[malarkgirlypop]

He's the Boss Part 4 (Bull Randleman x F!Reader)

WELL WELL FUCKING WELL. Jesus christ I have been looking at this part 4 in my wips for ages. Finally got an idea, that then may have spiralled into a whole fucking rabbit hole, but lol here we are! But anyway it's done, woooh, we get a bit of Cowboy Bull thrown in so that's fun! I hope you all enjoy the last instalment of this Bull series. But not to worry, I love Bull and I'm sure I will write another one for him. We need more Bull content goddammit! if this is bad don't tell me lol

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to the people involved.

Tag list: @footprintsinthesxnd, @vikinglover07, @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2, @b00ks1ut, @paula-912 (I can't remember of anyone else has asked to be tagged, if you have please remind me, I'm so bad!)

I finally left the room. Bull and I talked for hours laying together on his bed. I looked at the time it was four in the morning, I knew I had to leave before everyone else got up. It wouldn’t be a good look sneaking out the Seargents room in the early hours of the morning, looking freshly fucked. 

“I have to go.” I whispered trying to get out of bed, Bull pulled me back down onto the bed kissing me gently on the lips. I groaned in frustration, he was making it very hard to leave, and he knew it. He watched me intently as I got dressed again, laughing at me as I scoured around for where I had thrown my bra. He was enjoying the show. 

I waved goodbye sneaking out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me. I walked down the hall, the realisation of what just happened hitting me. I couldn’t help but grin, I skipped down to my room. I shut the door behind me, flopping down onto my bed. I glanced at the time, “Ugh I have to be up in 3 hours.” It was a later start on the Saturday but we still had duties to attend even if there was nothing to do here in Austria. We were still waiting for the German army to surrender, but even then we weren’t set on going home after that, they were still fighting over in the Pacific. I fell fast asleep under my covers being so tired from the events prior. 

My alarm blared next to me, I groaned rolling over wrapping my pillow around my head to block out the annoying noise. I sat up smacking the clock off.  A knock rapped on my door, George didn’t wait to be invited in, waltzing into the room and shutting the door behind him. He flopped down onto the bed next to me. 

“We gotta get up, Y/N.” He moaned into the pillow, I peeked my eye open at him, he looked like a bus had hit him. His hair all tousled and dark circles under his eyes. 

“No.” I mumble into the pillow, pulling the covers over my head. He pulled them back down inspecting my face.  

“Why do you look so tired, you barely drunk anything?” He squinted at me. 

“I didn’t get to bed till late. Do we have to get up?” I asked, enjoying the warmth under the blanket. I was so cosy I didn't want to leave my little nest I had made.

He raised his head from the pillow scanning my features, his brows furrowed together in concentration. “What do you mean, you didn’t get to bed till late? We got home at the same time. You and Bull put me to bed. You and Bull. YOU AND BULL!” I flinched away from the man as he pounced on top of me pinning me to the bed. 

“Shhh, George!” I said trying to cover his mouth which hung open. 

“I just didn’t sleep well is all.” I lied, pushing him off of me. I threw the covers back, hastily getting changed into my uniform while George looked at me, I could see from here the cogs turning in his brain. 

“Stop thinking so much, you’ll hurt yourself.” I threw the pillow that had fallen off the bed at his face.    

—--------------

We walked down the hall together, “So nothing happened last night?” George asked for the umpteenth time. 

“George, would you quit it! I told you. After I put you to bed, Bull and I had a drink and then we parted ways.” He looked at me suspiciously, still not believing the story I had told him. 

—--------------

We made it to the mess hall in time for breakfast, standing in line for our food. Luz spoke cheerily with the other men, seemingly forgetting about the terrible hangover he had. I grabbed a few things off the table that had been prepared, popping them on my plate. My eyes constantly flitted to the door waiting for Bull to walk in. Even though I had only seen him a couple hours ago, I desperately wanted to see him again. Send him a little smile or wink as he walks in. A look that we shared that no one else knew but us. 

I sat down at the table with the rest of the Easy men joining George and I. They all chatted as I nibbled, patiently waiting for Bull to arrive. But he never did, his tall frame never coming into view. He had missed breakfast all together.

“Hey little bird!” George snapped his fingers in front of my face, pulling me from my focus on the door. I looked at him, confusion on my face.

“We are leaving, come on!” George said as I looked around the table we were the only ones left there. 

“Why did you call me little bird?” I asked standing, following George with my plate and putting it on the counter to be returned. 

“Cause you were nibbling on one piece of toast all of breakfast like a little bird.” George said over his shoulder as we walked out of the mess hall. I sighed trailing behind. I had wanted to see Bull so bad, but I know he’s a busy man.

We walked through the buildings, I walked behind George sighing loudly and scraping my feet. George walked briskly ahead, only turning around occasionally to check I was still meandering behind him. Another sigh left my mouth but it was quickly stopped as my arm swinging by my side was snatched up swiftly. My eyes widened as I went to scream, but a large hand covered my mouth stopping any noise from leaving my throat. I was dragged behind one of the walls of the houses we were walking through. I struggled tirelessly against the firm hold that had me, with no success. This person who had me was very much stronger and bigger than me.  

“Easy there!” The warm timbre of the voice stilled me. I knew that voice anywhere. His hands set me free as soon as I stopped struggling. I swung around to face Bull. I crossed my arms over my chest trying to appear annoyed, but the grin on my face gave me away. 

“What on earth are you doing, Bull?” I asked him. He grinned down at me. 

“Come with me.” He replied, gently taking my hand in his leading me away. 

“Where?” I queried, but I let him take me. I held onto his hand following behind my question still left unanswered. All he did was smile at me, his face beamed with excitement. 

We walked for a bit, leaving the buildings behind we were staying in. He walked us onto a gravel road in between rolling fields. We walked all the way down the road, hand in hand, enjoying the scenery. We finally came to a stop under a tall tree, its branches so wide and thick it shaded us from the hot sun. 

“Are we here? Is this it?” I asked again. Bull nodded, hopping the wooden fence with ease. 

“Bull! What are you doing?” I asked in a hushed voice even though no one else was around to hear us. We hadn’t seen people since we had left the town. 

“Come on, it's this way.” He held out his hand for me to help me climb over the fence. I stepped from one foot to the other, looking around to see if we would get caught. 

“You trust me don’t you?” He said hand still reaching out for me. I sighed nodding, I did trust him. I climbed over the fence, Bull lifting me off the other side, once I had reached the top, and placing me gently on the ground. We walked into the field, the edges lined with pine trees. It seemed to sprawl for miles, filled with lush green grass and patches of wildflowers and trees here and there. 

I watched as Bull placed his thumb and index finger in his mouth in a ‘o’ shape. I tilted my head curiously, but soon figured out what he was doing, when a loud whistle left his lips. I stared at him as he swung around sending me a wink. I heard the sound of heavy footfalls racing towards us. There in the distance a horse sprinted towards us. It nickered and whinnied as it ran. It arrived stopping right in front of Bull. It pushed its head into him, as he lifted his hand to pat it. 

“Come on over, he’s not scary.” Bull beckoned me over, as I stood wearily to the side. I moved closer, reaching out for the horse to smell me. He snorted softly pushing his head against my hand as I stroked the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t know what his real name is but I call him Randy.” He told me. I couldn’t help the laugh that left my lips. 

“What?” He asked, looking confused.    

“Randy, I love it!” I laughed more, hiding my chuckles behind my hand. 

“Well it’s Sir Randy to you, if you’re going to take that attitude!” He said with a serious tone. I couldn’t help but throw my head back in laughter at his antics.  

“Hello Randy.” I cooed as I patted the horse. I watched Bull raise one eyebrow, not looking impressed. 

“My deepest apologies, Sir Randy.” I bowed deeply to the horse to show my respect for his title. Now it was Bull’s turn to laugh as he watched me. 

“Alright, you ready?” Bull asked, I looked at him puzzled. We hadn't been here more than five minutes and he was ready to leave. 

“Are we going already? I asked, a pout on my lips. I didn’t want to go just yet. Bull smiled walking towards me. His arms wrapped me in a tight hug, as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. I rested my head on his chest looking up at him. Bull’s head dipped down, his lips finding mine. He kissed me softly, letting the touch linger before pulling away.  

“You’re so cute.” He hummed lowly in my ear, sending butterflies swirling in my stomach. 

“No we aren’t leaving. We’re going for a ride!” Bull beamed down at me, my brows knitted together as I pieced it all together in my head. 

“We’re riding Randy?” I asked. He nodded. My eyes widened. “I haven’t ridden a horse before! Also whose horse is this? Are we allowed?” The questions tumbled from my lips in quick succession. 

“Yes we are riding Randy. It’s fine the owner will never know. And who cares if we are allowed or not, it’s fun.” Bull moved away walking back over to the horse, patting Randy on his back. The horse snorted in response. Bull turned back and looked at me, “Plus I have seen how you ride, you’ll be fine.” He sent me a cheeky wink. My cheeks flushed pink, a giggle leaving my mouth. 

“You’re up first.” Bull said to me as I made my way over. Bull clasped his hands together for me to step into, he boosted me up onto the horse. I sat on Randy’s back, feeling unsteady since there was no saddle for me to sit in. 

“Can you ride bareback?” I asked, looking down at him. Bull grinned, sending me a wink.

“Not like that!” I swatted at him with my hand, but he dodged me easily.   

“Yeah. I used to ride bareback all the time, back at the farm.” He said as he hoisted himself up onto the horse, his large frame sitting in front of me. I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head into his back. 

Bull clicked his tongue nudging Randy in the side. The horse snorted and started walking forward. 

“Where are you going to take me?” I asked from behind him, craning my neck up to see over his shoulder. But his torso being so much longer than mine made the task difficult. I opted to look out at the side view, since I couldn’t see a thing in front of me. 

“Well I saw this nice creek, looked good for a dip.” Bull said in his country drawl. I didn’t have time to react to his comment, before he kicked the horse in the side. 

“Heyah!” He yelled, Randy took off in a sprint. I yelped in surprise, holding on tightly to Bull. Randy cantered through the field leading us to a gate, we passed through it quickly. I was trying to admire the view but it all just blurred past due to the speed at which we were going. I held on for dear life, but felt safe with Bull handling the horse. 

We finally reached the small creek, willow trees swayed in the breeze, their long branches reaching down and touching the water. 

“Oh, Bull, this is stunning.” I said, casting my gaze around at the scenic view. He dismounted the horse easily, landing steady footed on the ground. Before I knew it, I was being plucked off of Randy. Bull’s strong hands taking under my arms and lifting me gently to the ground. He placed me on my feet in front of him. 

I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. I leant forward, kissing him gently. But Bull seemed to have other plans, his mouth taking mine hungrily. I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me deeper. His hand finding the buttons of my top, I pulled back laughing, swatting his hands away from me.

“Hey! We can’t do it here! What if we are caught?” I blushed thinking about being caught in that certain predicament with Bull. 

“Oh no ma’am, that wasn’t my intention.” Bull grinned a cheeky smile. 

“And then tell me good sir. What was your intention?” I asked prodding his chest with my finger. Bull grabbed my wrist, pulling me in closer. 

“I was just helping you get undressed. We are going for a dip after all.” He laughed heartily, the noise sending shivers up my spine. 

“Well, last one in is a rotten egg!” I squeal, charging down the grass towards the creek. Flinging my clothes off as I went. Bull wasn’t far behind, shedding his own attire just as quickly. 

“I’ll get you, Y/N!” Bull laughed as he chased behind me. 

“I would like to see you try!” I screamed as he scooped me up in one foul swoop. 

Bull ran into the warm water, with me still in his arms half naked. I snuggled in closer to his chest. Running my hands down his torso. 

“Can we stay like this forever?” I asked, kissing him softly on the lips. 

“Always!” Bull smiled down at me, his sweet eyes creasing at the sides. His lips pressed against mine. “I promise.”         

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 16

Howdy folks,

I went into a state of psychosis this week and read a truly absurd amount of fics... again. I don't even know where I'm finding the time, truly, but here we are. I didn't spend as much time keeping up with the WIPs I'm reading, so honestly that's probably it. Also I had a lil monsterfucking moment one day this week. I'll highlight those green so if you want to avoid reading the summaries/thots on those they're easy to spot.

You can find my Spreadsheet here and all my previous recs here! Do feel free to tag me in your works and I will happily give them a look and most likely you'll see them here the next week!

Recs below the behind the scenes Joel!

SNAFU - a Frankie series by @theywhowriteandknowthings

The Triple Frontier boys as Shifters!!! This honestly makes so much sense? Like they work SO well with this dynamic. I adore Pope and Reader's bond like right out of the gate. What I really, really fucking loved though was Reader and Frankie, of course. I love how they characterized him and I really love the way that Frankie and reader bonded over time. Frankie being grumpy is so fun lol. A lot of the little details in this fic are what really make it good, ya know? The pack dynamics, the bonding moments, the badass reader, reader's uhhh issue (spoiler, I think, so I'll be quiet here) but yeah. Just. Wonderful. Can't wait for more.

only daddy that'll walk the line - a Joel one shot by @millerscoffee

So this request was sent to two different blogs and I read them both and loved them both. I read this one first. I really fucking loved Reader's dynamic with Joel in this. Joel is such a dick lmao. I thought the situation with reader's dad was done well and I also loved the hinting at Joel's trauma. And of course... the smut. God that was hot. Joel is so fucking dominant. The spitting? please. and Reader keeping up the brat thing just really fucking makes it. She needed Daddy Joel to make her behave lmao. SO GOOD

Little Bee - a Joel one shot by @atticrissfinch

And this is the other version of this request that I read. I related to the specifc brand of Daddy Issues in this one lmao. Dad who doesn't want you so you look for a protective older man (why am I like this). I loved the way reader antagonized Joel in this. The denture comment is hilarious. The bee motif is fuckin great, also. I like that Joel kind of initiates things in the mess hall. The smut is so god damn hot man. Like jesus fucking christ. And then the post nut clarity really made me giggle. "should not have done that" PLS

Closer - a Joel series by @beardedjoel

Hot neighbor!joel!! This is a smut marathon style fic with a good bit of feelings. The smut is sooooo good!! I really liked her friend Sofia too. I'm about halfway through this and I can't wait to see how reader and joel's relationship develops!

Rises the Moon - a Joel one shot by @psychedelic-ink

(monsterfucking, but you're the monster! also monster is being used very loosely here) mermaid reader x lighthouse operator joel!!! I really enjoyed this. The mermaid reader was super interesting. I wanted to know more about her background, honestly. And the way poor lonely Joel so desperately wanted to care for her UGH. It was seriously lovely. I also really liked how reader didn't commit to like... giving up being a mermaid for him (even just once a month), and he didn't ask her to. The ending is really lovely. (And the smut is hot idc if I couldn't quite imagine how it worked, it was perfect).

Playing with fire - a Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Super hot smutty lil dad's best friend one shot. I love when Joel gets all pissy. Makes me want to tease him even more lmao

Cupid's Chokehold - a Din one shot by @deathwife

I haven't read a body swap fic before and I must say the dynamic with it being Din, so reader can't see his face even though it's her face, and also the smut was just like... really good. I was fascinated the whole time + the smut was hot as hell. It's really fun to read it from the perspective of the dick owner lmao. I really adored their relationship and just overall thought this was lovely. Reader calls Din "Djarin" so if you're like me and marrying Din would give you an awful name (Din Gin....), you're not alone. <3

I think i know - a Joel one shot by @pascalisbaby

OMG Reader's sister is so mean in this she fucking deserves Joel cheating on her. Yes this is Sister's Husband!Joel. And yes it's really fucking hot. Reader is a menace to fucking society in this prancing around half naked and seducing a married man and I support every second of it. I know what Joel said at the end but I think he'll be back for more....

close your eyes, pay the price for your paradise - a Joel/Tommy series by @ozarkthedog

Raider (?) Tommy and Joel are so fucking hot. Read the warnings on this one kids, it's gonna be a rough one. Nothing happens in this part though, really. Basically you're stranded on the road (post outbreak / pre tess) and Joel and Tommy roll up in their truck and take you to their cabin.

a day in the filth - a Joel one shot by @toxicanonymity

This is pure filth, as the title implies. It would seem you're Joel's little sex toy, essentially. Brat tamer!Daddy!Joel. There's a lot going on here and it is all unreasonably hot.

Bodily Exchange - a Pero Tovar one shot by @absurdthirst

I finally caved a read a mafia fic and somehow it wasn't Joel. I really loved how much of a fucking dick Tovar was and how bratty reader was. The end was so much sweeter than expected, which was a nice surprise. Such a filthy fic with a sweet happy ending!

New York or Nowhere - a Joel series by @beskarandblasters

BODEGA JOEL!!! I love when you're trying to help your friend come up with a fic based on a very specific request and somehow you come up with a completely different fic altogether. New York transplant Joel owns Beldro's Deli. You think he's really hot but your friends think he's a creep. I personally think if he's a little bit of a creep that just makes it better, but then again I'm a little insane <3

Shiver and Shake - a Joel one shot by @multiversed-daydreamer

I have ADHD and literally do the thing where I have thought spirals during sex. I loved this take on that experience and mean ol dom Joel being there to bring your focus back where it belongs (on him). Super fucking hot ugh. And it was their first TLOU fic and I thought the QZ Joel characterization was spot on <3

Roads - a Joel series by @milla-frenchy

Baby's first fic!! So you grew up with Tommy, best friends and all that. You get to know Joel as an adult and there's a spark right away. The first installment here takes place 3 years before present day, after Joel breaks your heart and you literally move to get away from him. The promise of so much angst has me salivating almost as much as the really hot smut.

Promise - an Ezra one shot by @criticallyacclaimedstranger

MONSTERFUCKING! I had a little binge this week.. you'll see. Anyway Ezra is a literal actual dragon in this with a big ol dragon dick and everything. This fic includes so many wild ass kinks I simply do not (or did not know I?) have. And yet I still loved it. Thought it was super fucking hot. I really liked the imagery of the castle and the bedroom. Also the end was kind of sweet?

Common Courtesies - a Din one shot by @juletheghoul

More monsterfucking -- demon!din! I fucking love Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen in general. Mr. Darcy is one of the literary loves of my life. This little Pride and Prejudice-esque Demon!Din fic hit every mark. I loved it so much. Din is so charming and mysterious and sexy ugh. I would marry him in a heartbeat.

Solum - a Dave York one shot by @ezrasbirdie

You guessed it! Monsterfucking. Demon!Dave York!!! I really enjoyed the blending of the movie plot with the demon arc! It was so well done!! Dave was super sexy in this ugh. I too feel a strange pull toward extremely dangerous men covered in blood. Reader gets me. I am her. She is me. Demon!Dave can take me as his little human sex toy any day, idc. I also kind of loved that he was so sweet on Carol in this? Like usually in Dave fics he kinda hates her or cheats on her or she's his ex, but in this one the whole catalyst was keeping her and his girls safe. Very sweet.

Sell My Soul For You - a Marcus P one shot by @absurdthirst

--monsterfucking-- Marcus is so sweet. So sweet that Reader is getting a little aggravated he can't be a less sweet in bed. (Girl have you tried like... talking to him about it?) Anyway, sweet, impulsive, reckless Marcus finds out you feel this way via buttdial and does he like... work on it with you and slowly learn to be better? No. He goes out and sells his soul to a demon to be a better Dom. Idiot. He's cute tho, so I'll let it slide. The smut is super fucking unreasonably hot, of course.

Bad Moon Rising - a Jack series by @wardenparker

--werewolf!Jack-- This fic is actually so fucking sweet!! So part one, Reader doesn't know Jack is a werewolf and he just kinda shows up on her ranch and they hit it off immediately. There's lots of lovely animal references and stuff and it's all really hot. I love the plot too!! this is not just werewolf porn! Shit is incredible! I love the characterization. But anyway if you're not into monsterfucking just read part one. Part two tho... oh boy. Full on werewolf sex. And reader has a kink for it! She's just like me fr.

Kudzu - an Ezra one shot by @beskarberry

--weird alien hybrid ezra-- I have lots of emotions about this fic. First of all, read the warnings. They're extensive and they're there for good reason. I love a good horror fic, which is kind of what this felt like? Like the weird tension and unknowing and the freaky way Ez is talking and that arm. I was thoroughly freaked out (and I love that!!). There were so many clever and interesting things going on in this fic AHHHH, Oh and the ending is just like super sweet and wonderful and so good? The end balances out the kind of horrific nature of the rest of the fic. Also if any of that sounds insulting I really don't mean it that way, I promise. I went in to it expecting to be freaked out and it delivered so well.

Yes Father - a Joel series by @chloeangelic

Your boring catholic husband doesn't fuck you right and you really want to leave him, so Father Joel helps you satisfy your needs so you don't destroy your marriage and go to hell. I love blasphemy. It's hot idc. I think my favorite thing about it is Father Joel randomly admonishing you for foul language and taking the lord's name in vain while he's literally got some part of his body buried in yours. I giggled. I really adore this. It was super fun and super hot.

Pillow Talk - a Joel one shot by @theboredinsomniac

Joel is soooo the jealous type. This fic is basically y'all having an adult conversation about him being an insecure jealous little bitch and it's got the most adorable ending.

Born to Run - a Marcus Pike series by @whataperfectwasteoftime

Penny's Marcus is just perfect. Every damn time. Unless I'm mistaken, this was her first Marcus fic? I was in the mood for a sweet multichapter thing with some hot smut and I was sooooo not disappointed by this. I'm on chapter 8 now, so about halfway through. Marcus is so sweet and precious and still impulsive as ever, but unlike Theresa, reader is right there with him. I really adore that this fic takes place in KY (and it really captures the vibe of Kentucky too) since I'm from there! I very much do not relate to the fact that reader is a marathon runner, but that's okay. I think it's really cool and I love the way they meet and that Marcus isn't fully a white knight? She can take care of herself. Super fucking cute fic ugh. Oh yeah and the smut is to die for jesus christ Marcus is hot.

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Happy Reading!

[diazsdimples]

WIP Wednesday

I did a bad thing and started (yet another) WIP. I'm gonna put myself into writers jail until I finish the fic's I've started. But until then, enjoy the first snippet of Single Dad AU! I seem to be in my Dad!Buck era.

Tagged by @hippolotamus @cal-daisies-and-briars @callmenewbie @spotsandsocks and @wikiangela go check out their works IMMEDIATELY

Snippet below the cut (sorry it's kinda long but it's cute I swear!)

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!!!”

Buck’s head flicks up and he sees two streaks of blonde before the wind is knocked out of him as his daughters barrel into his legs, latching onto him like a pair of leeches.

Carrie, slightly taller than her little sister, smacks her head into his hip as she comes to a quick stop. Buck laughs as he staggers backwards, arms coming out to wrap around the girls.

“Hello my loves!” he grins, crouching down and pulling them into a suffocating hug. “How was your day?”

“It was good!” Carrie says, dropping her backpack at Buck’s feet and hopping into the backseat, clipping herself into her booster seat. Lily circles her arms around Buck’s neck, and he lifts her up, carrying her to the other side of the car and buckling her into her car seat.

“What about you, sweetheart?” he asks Lily as he checks her straps. “First day of school, did you have fun?”

Lily nods. “Uh huh, my teacher is really nice, and she let us colour in all day!”

Buck chuckles, kissing Lily on the head before shutting the door and hopping into the front seat.

“So, anything exciting happen for you, Carrie?”

Carrie nods enthusiastically, her blonde curls flouncing around her head as she does so.  “We've got a new boy in class. He’s really nice.”

Buck’s eyes flicker to the rear-view mirror as he drives, watching Carrie as she talks. “What’s his name?” he asks.

“Christopher,” Carrie replies. “He’s from El Paso and him and his daddy moved here a few months ago.”

“Where’s El Paso?” Lily pipes up. She looks so cute, her hair pulled back in Buck’s best attempt at a French braid (she’d insisted on one, stating that she needed to look good for her first day at school), and her little shirt with butterfly wings poking out of the back, a little squished from the carseat.

“In Texas, baby,” Buck replies.

“Oh, and I got into trouble today,” Carrie adds, looking down at her feet.

Buck arches an eyebrow. Carrie’s a bit of a firecracker and it’s not unknown for her to come home with a letter for Buck to read. It’s usually about encouraging her to think before she speaks. Buck’s not sure he’s the right person to be teaching her that, he’s just as bad sometimes. “What happened?” he asks, bracing himself for the response.

“Some of the boys in class were making fun of Christopher because he walks funny,” Carrie replies.

“And that got you in trouble how?”

Carrie shrugs. “I told them they were being assholes” she says, as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Jesus Christ. It’s all Buck can do to not burst out laughing. He is a very, very responsible parent.

“Carrie, I love that you stood up for Christopher, and that was a very nice thing for you to do, but we can’t use language like that” he replies, doing his level best not to let his obvious delight shine through too much.

“But you say it to Uncle Chimney all the time!” she protests.

Well, she’s got him there.

Buck takes a deep breath, fighting down his laugher. “I know, sweetheart, but adults are allowed to say these kinds of things. They’re not words for kids.”

Carrie pouts and crosses her arms and Buck just about melts when Lily copies the gesture, ever her big sister’s number one fan. “Being a kid is boring” she huffs.

“Yeah, Daddy! Boring!” Lily adds, looking at Carrie for approval.

Buck snorts. “Quiet from the cheap seats!” Fuck, he’s so lucky he’s got these two girls.

(No pressure) tagging @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @malewifediaz @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @spagheddiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @fruitandbubbles @fionaswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss

[bobalegsanji]

epiphany for the wip post! -fruityumbrella

I completely forgot about this WIP and it's been sitting in my drawer for ages omg... I'm going to have to change a lot (including grammar checking because jesus christ) but I might need to get back to his because I really like the concept:)

Sanji had always been blind in one eye.

It wasn’t very noticeable, you had to look closely to be able to figure it out. The thing is, his hairstyle made it basically impossible. 

He prefers the way he looks with one eye covered. The long, blonde hair reminds him of his mother. He would never be able to grow it out like her, Zeff would’ve made fun of him and Patty would’ve never let him live it down, but he didn’t have to. By covering one eye the hair frames his face, making him look as much as his mother without being too feminine. He’d rather look semi-feminine than have his biggest insecurity on display for everyone to see. 

Zeff knew the reason for his concealment, he understood the shame a weakness like that brings. 

It never hindered Sanji’s ability to do anything. He was a great cook, a great fighter, a great protector of Nami and Robin. 

But it was still a weakness. Something he’d rather not talk about, ever.

Sanji had to learn the hard way you don’t always get what you wish for.

[bromcommie]

He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

WIP Rating: M Chapters: 1/? Word count: 5,749/??? Relationship(s): James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Howling Commandos Tags: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The First Avenger, Then and Now, Music References Out the Wazoo, The Great All-American Revenge Roadtrip, Many many dream sequences, Unreliable Narrator, World War II, Cold War Drama, Red Room Horrors, Identity Issues, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Steve Rogers Needs So Much Therapy, Steve Rogers vs. Politicians, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Sam Wilson Is Trying His Best but Jesus Fucking Christ, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers the Lapsed Catholic, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Pretentious overuse of poetry, Attempted Historical Accuracy but Dear God At What Cost

*** So, I lied. I underestimated so bad - posting that last ficlet was nothing. This is my actual child. My very grown, still underdeveloped and very scattered child I have an anxious attachment to.

Thanks, @padey12, for tolerating me flinging bits and pieces of this thing at you for over a year and a half now. It will happen again. (threat)

[katyawriteswhump]

WIP ask game: You've built it up and now I HAVE to know more about your Power of Love fic. I love long fics too much not to ask!

I am so very sorry! I thought I answered this Tuesday, but actually saved it as a draft. Whoops!

Also, thank you soooo much for asking :) Not sure about building up, I was being pretty honest with the 'deeply unbeloved' but I guess I still kinda love it. I really hope to finish it soon in a satisfying way for those who stuck with me, as I've had it planned out for ages.

It's basically s4 fix-it fic. Steve saves Eddie and they go on the run from the police etc. together with Robin. Meanwhile Steve develops mysterious powers, though ones that come with a price...

If anybody is interested, the full fic so far is on tumblr here and on AO3 here.

Excerpt:

“You sure about this, Stevie?”

“What part of ‘let’s do this’ do you not get?” 

Steve unwinds himself from Eddie. He peels his sweater over his head then glances down at the bandages… Screw it, can’t worry about scars now.

“Damn,” breathes Eddie, apparently drooling too hard to care. “I totally dreamed about this, when I luuuuurved to hate you. Okay, hate is kinda overkill but—”

“Yeah, I was a douche. Blah, blah, blah.” Steve shivers lightly, pitches the sweater at Eddie, who totally fails to catch it. “If this is some freak show revenge kink—”

“Wasn’t like that—seriously, you have no idea. It was, uh…” Eddie ventures closer. Under the rays of the flashlight, his dark eyes seem impossibly large and liquid. “I used to watch you in the pool—you were so disgustingly squeaky clean. I wanted to drag you into the deepest, darkest recesses of my dungeon-master mind and, ahem…”

“I needed bringing down a peg?” Steve gets right in Eddie’s face.

“Not even that.” Eddie’s deadly serious. “Just wanted you aaaaall for myself.”

Steve smirks—best way to disguise the candy-ass swirl of butterflies in his belly—then steps back and spreads his arms. “I’m all yours. Knock yourself out.”

Eddie gets some rope, hooks it over a high beam, and climbs on a crate to fasten it in place. He then plants a palm on Steve’s bare chest, backing him up against a wooden post. Steve smirks harder than ever, if only to distract himself—and Eddie—from the heart hammering insanely beneath Eddie’s hand. Jesus Christ, don’t think! Focus on the hotness.

Eddie reaches up to grab an end of the rope and loops it around one of Steve’s wrists. Steve tugs himself free: “You do know what you’re doing here, right?”

“Believe me, my uncle is worse than any overgrown boy-scout leader. Not sure he taught me knots and shit for exactly these purposes, but… anyhoo.”

“Okay. Got one condition. You get shirtless too.”

Eddie’s grin makes Steve ache in all sorts of fun places. “Guess I can indulge you, Babe.”

“Babe? I was a brat five minutes ago. Make yer mind up.”

Eddie flips the bird, turns away and strips. Steve lolls against the post, longing to drag his tongue over every salty inch of Eddie’s torso. Jesus, he never knew he had a shoulder and back kink, because… Gnnng! And those tats, stark against Eddie’s pale skin? As Eddie turns back, Steve drinks them all in. Even the goddamn bats, which should be scary as hell these days, are beyond intoxicating, and seem to dance and spin and…

“Ready now?” Eddie grabs the rope.

Steve fakes a yawn. “Getting old waiting, Munson.” 

“You really are a brat, you know that? C’mon, gimme your hand.”

Eddie ties Steve’s right wrist with a loopy, hitchy knot. He tugs another part of the rope, suspending Steve’s wrist in the air above him.

“How ya doing, big boy?” Eddie grazes his fingers, feather-light, down the light stubble on Steve’s cheek.

“Never better.” 

Steve swallows hard, offers Eddie his other hand. The exquisite concentration on Eddie’s face, the tip of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, is hilarious. Eddie’s half-naked body is totally smokin’, and yet…

Steve’s eyes drift closed. Those butterflies in his stomach are fast transforming into a horde of angry wasps. He’s had his hands tied before, by the Soviets and… Dammit, is this really distracting him from anything? I DIED IN 1978. I DIED! His breaths come faster, shallower. Nevertheless, he bites his lip against asking Eddie to stop, to slow down even. Don’t spoil this, Harrington.

“Steve, you sure you’re okay?”

As soon as his gaze meets Eddie’s, Steve’s anxiety fades a little, and he nods. He tugs lightly at Eddie’s handiwork, now complete, and a snigger he genuinely feels tugs the corner of his lips. While the ropes don’t dig in, he doesn’t think he could easily yank himself free.

Okay, this is definitely kinda hot. Like the channel of air between their bare chests, which honestly, steams like a sauna. He’s always been in control in sexual relationships, always taking the lead. Lately, yeah, it’s felt kinda dull almost, as if he’s been going through the motions. Now, his nerves still jangle, but simply losing himself again in Eddie’s soulful eyes, he’s getting a goddamn semi. He peeps down, and the strain at Eddie’s fly suggests he’s suffering the same.

“What you gonna do next, Munson?” he husks.

“Stevie, I… I…” Eddie steps back, plows all eight fingers deep into that lush hair. “Seriously, now I got you like this, I have no clue, other than I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I want that so bad too.” 

Eddie kisses his own knuckles, dusts them across Steve’s lips, setting Steve squirming, keening even. His heart and his every goddamn fibre strain madly toward Eddie. Then an unexpected rumbling noise clamps those same fibres super-tight.

“Shit!” Eddie’s half-lidded eyes stretch wide. “More choppers?” 

“No… No. Sounds like a truck or something.”

...

(so, this is one of my favourite bits, among the heavy, heavy angst... maybe not representative of the whole thing, but perhaps there'll be more like this to wind things up... it doesn't not fit with my story plan ;))

AO3 link