#owen writes: wip

[impossible-rat-babies]

wip wednesday

i got tagged by @lavampira! ty friend! :D im gonna tag: @scionshtola, @fooltofancy, @hythlodaes, @lilas, @galadae, @thevikingwoman, @coldshrugs and @birues and whomever else! go for it!

not really shb spoilers? kinda? npc name spoilers, for the most part

“Do you think…it will return to normal?”

Ryne’s voice is soft and hesitant—careful as she looks down at their hands. Long has the last of the Light ebbed from their body; no trace of it remains in their soul or skin by Ryne’s countless careful examinations. And yet their hands remain ivory white—smooth like plaster, and just as devoid of warmth and the sensation of touch.

They shake their head—only aware of her touch by watching her trace the lines across their palm. The lines where their skin wrinkles together are still there; their flesh still yields beneath her touch and the movement of their wrist and fingers. It’s unsettling—this part of their body that looks so different and feels so distant still responds to their desire to move. Their fingers twitch, carefully as they briefly touch Ryne’s hand.

“Alisaie observed it being not unlike the patients at the Inn once the light had faded. Mayhaps they will one day regain some semblance of a normal life, but their bodies will always bear the scars of the corruption.”

They spread their hand flat, tendons pulling and the veins pucker with their tattoos.

“So you’ll remain like this.” She concludes short and quick, and they look at her. They know the pull of her brow and the turn at the corners of her lips well by now.

“‘Tis not your doing, Ryne.” They remind her gently. She opens her mouth to protest and they quietly shush her.

“You did all that you could to stay the Light. That I remain here is due in no small part to you; tis but another scar of the many.”

[sapphic-terror]

headcannon - Tyler totally kisses Kate’s scar.

Okay, so this is a few years down the line, they’re an established couple and marriage is this distant but not far thing, the important thing is they’re happy and content and okay and that’s a rare thing for people like them. Over the years everyone’s slowly healed, Kate got therapy, Javi got therapy, they actually talked and slowly dealt with everything. So, she eventually starts wearing shorts more and more often. The scar is still this big reminder of everything that happened, but she’s slowly learning to accept it. Then, Tyler starts doing this thing where when the two of them are together, (Kate’s watching the news or reading and his head is in her lap, just cuddling her because that man’s love language is gifts and touch) he presses a kiss to her scar. At first she doesn’t even notice because it’s a quick barely there thing, like it’s a subconscious movement almost.

And then Kate notices, and she notices it happens so damn often. Like Tyler’s barely aware and at the same time it’s almost worshiping, like it’s second hand nature to love the thing that for years she hated with a passion. And he just keeps don’t it, and brushing his fingers against the scar, and staring at it with this barely concealed awe and she doesn’t not get it.

So Kate finally snaps and asks him why? And she’s really asking, why do you love the worst part of me, because the scar to her represents her failure and how it lead to her friend’s deaths. Tyler just stares at her, because to him it is so simple and easy he stopped questioning it years ago, because it means you survived. And he’s really saying, because it means you’re here and alive and I got to love you, I got to be loved by you.

And he’s really saying, your survival is beautiful and I love you for it.

(Somebody steal my computer and phone, I have so many thoughts about these idiots.)

[peachesandcreames]

Look What I Found?!

A/N : Slight spoilers so if you haven't seen the movie yet enter at your own risk (and go see the movie!) Reader Beware: angst, fluff, A Little bit of spice 😉. Mention of scars/scaring. Self defense against 3 would be assailants. Y/N is basically a badass 😎. As always read at your own discretion and hearts, likes, reblogs and constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are solely my own. Happy reading 📚 everyone!!! 💞💕

You'd been hesitantly working with Tyler and his ragtag team of Tornado chasers for about 6 months, traveling all over the country gathering data and trying to help the people stuck in the path of death and destruction. Tyler drove as you stared out the passenger window not really seeing the passing scenery, you were beyond exhausted and you could see Tyler taking glances at you out of the corner of his eye. You wanted to let him know that you were ok but you didn't have it in you. He took his phone and started looking for something and when he found whatever he was looking for he smiled. A megawatt smile that made his dimples pop and you felt your heart stutter in your chest.

He really is handsome you found yourself thinking as he turned to face you in the seat, those green eyes and dimples are starting to make you feel things, things like desire and lust. It's been five years and a girl definitely has needs and Tyler definitely could help you out with those needs. You found yourself staring at his lips as they moved but you had no idea what he was saying to you. You found yourself imagining what his lips and rough, calloused hands could do to you. You felt your body heating up and you slid down in your seat and cracked the window for some fresh evening air.

The humid southern air hit you like a ton of bricks and you took a deep breath, hoping to bring yourself back to the here and now. "How's that sound?" You turned your head to glance at him ever so briefly, hoping that he didn't notice your self induced agitation. Tyler was looking at you with those green eyes and you found yourself getting lost in them. You shook your head, trying to clear out the cobwebs and said, "I'm sorry?"

His eyes filled with sympathy and his smile faltered. "I said that there's a Target not to far away from us. You want to go and look around while I fill up on gas? You can look at books and candles. Maybe some snacks?" Tyler stuck out his bottom lip in an attempt to garner sympathy but it had the opposite effect on you. You wanted to kiss it, maybe suck on it while you rode him like a wild horse in one of his rodeos.

You didn't want to be alone even if you couldn't express how you felt. You shook your head no and you could see that he was disappointed but tried to mask it. You reached across the center console and placed your hand over his, which might have been a mistake. His skin was warm like the setting Oklahoma sun and tan from working outside. You locked eyes with each other and Tyler glanced down at your hand barely covering his.

He watched as your thumb moved over his knuckles in an attempt to soothe him. He got lost in the sensation of your cool skin on his and didn't want to break the spell of you coming out of your shell and opening up to him. He was more than willing to wait you out until you felt comfortable. You glanced up at him and took a deep breath, it was now or never and if he's told you once he's told you a million times that you have to face what scares you. The words tumbled from your lips in a jumble "I just don't want to be alone."

A single tear escaped and Tyler caught it with his thumb as his hand came up to cradle your face and you leaned into the warmth of him. You needed comfort and Tyler was more than willing to offer whatever it was you needed. "New plan. We'll both go together but you're not getting out of the truck while I get the gas. Understood?" His whole demeanor changed and the air inside felt as heavy and hot as the air outside.

In an attempt at levity, you saluted him and said " Sir, yes Sir". The look in his eyes turned a different kind of darkness. The kind that spoke of twisted sheets and untold hours of passion and pleasure. You visibly and audibly gulped and Tyler shot a smirk your way as you pulled into a nearly empty gas station except for a group of men standing on the outskirts. You felt uneasy seeing them standing in the dwindling sunset and rapidly approaching darkness as their cigarette smoke wafted above their heads and they started laughing at something one of them had said.

Tyler must have sensed your uneasiness as he unbuckled his seat belt. You turned to look at him and then back at the group of men who looked like they were looking at you but you couldn't be sure. "Hey," he nudged your shoulder with his and you brought your attention back to him. You gave him a small smile and he nodded as he got out of the truck. He locked the doors behind him as he started to pump the gas and you watched the numbers go up as the smell of gasoline filled the country night air. You forgot about the possible threat that the men could pose as you watched the way Tyler's muscles rippled under his white t shirt.

It was a welcome distraction as you watched him walk away and you cranked the AC and turned the radio on, a Luke Combs song filtered through the speakers as you watched through the glass window as Tyler sauntered up to the counter and waited his turn in line. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye, one of the men threw his cigarette butt in a nearby puddle and you watched as the water extinguished the already dying light. You felt your anxiety start to rise as one of the truckers pointed in your general direction and they started to haphazardly make their way across the broken pavement. You watched as they stumbled and their silhouettes started getting closer and closer. Your suspicion was confirmed when they finally got under one of the street lights, they all carried bottles wrapped in brown bags.

Tyler finally made it to the counter to pay as soon as the trio of drunken truckers reached your window. You felt frozen with fear and didn't know what to do. You wanted to get Tyler's attention and thought about laying on the car horn but changed your mind at the last second. One of them knocked on the glass with what you thought was his hand but turns out it was the really sharp tip of a hunting knife. You could barely hear him through the glass, you think that he either called you pretty girl or city girl and you weren't sure if you couldn't understand him because of the ice cold fear gripping you by the throat or if it was because of the window separating you two.

Then it hit you. The perfect way to scare off them off. Before you and Tyler hit the road he had you refill the fireworks launchers on his truck. It was a good thing that he left the keys in the ignition, you cranked the engine to life and let the fireworks fly high into the sky. It had the desired effect of startling the men into leaving you alone.

The second the fireworks went off it caused the man to drop his knife and you saw your moment and you took it. You opened the car door with as much force as you could muster and slammed the door into him causing him to lose his footing and stumble backwards. Before he could recover his balance you struck his nose with your open palm and you felt the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking and warm blood came gushing out and he dropped at your feet. You saw the glint of the knife blade at your feet and you quickly snapped it up and held it loosely at your side. The remaining two men saw their friend writhing in agony and looked between him and you, you who was holding a knife and covered in blood from your wrist down.

They put their hands up and slowly got their friend on his feet. "You stupid bitch. You broke my nose." It looked like he was going to come after you again so you braced yourself. He stumbled as he pushed himself away from his buddies and you reacted on pure instinct.

You met him halfway and used his momentum against him and punched him in his already broken nose. He bellowed out in pain and as he bent over you brought your knee into his face for a third time and it thankfully knocked him out. You threw the knife at him in disgust as you looked up and saw that Tyler had joined the commotion. The two buddies saw that the odds weren't in their favor and took off running into the night. Tyler looked from the bloody man at his feet to see you standing in the harsh lighting of the parking lot, sweaty and covered in the man's blood.

He could see that you were visibly shaken but not hurt. "You look so incredibly hot right now." Tyler said with awe and pride in his voice. That got a smile and a laugh out of you and he took your hand in his and led you towards the gas station bathrooms to get cleaned up. He gave you a change of clothing and left you to it.

15 minutes later you came out of the bathroom and it brought a gentle smile to your face to see that he was waiting for you right outside. You cleared your throat and he turned to face you, he looked you up and down appreciatively. "Are you ready to get out of here?" You nodded and he offered you his arm and you walked towards his truck together and he opened the door for you and made sure that you were buckled in before he locked and shut your door. You rode in comfortable silence towards the store and Tyler jumped out and had your door open before you could even unbuckle yourself. You laughed quietly at his antics and let him help you down.

Once inside, Tyler snagged a cart and followed you throughout the store. He definitely enjoyed the view as you stopped by the candles and tried to find the best smelling ones. You held out a candle for him to smell and laughed as he crinkled his nose. You both decided on Strawberry and lemons and you put them in the cart.

You wandered around the store and felt yourself relaxing. It felt oddly right, doing domestic activities with him. Something so ordinary as shopping with this man had butterflies dancing in your belly. After checking out and Tyler refusing to let you pay, he helped you back into the truck and loaded the bags in the back. He slid into next to you and looked at you expectantly.

You had a standing reservation at a local hotel on the outskirts of town and you watched as Tyler's attention was on entering the location on his GPS system. Bone tired you leaned against the leather seat and felt your eyes drifting shut and you must have dozed off because the next thing you knew was that you were being shook awake by Tyler. You lifted your head off of his shoulder and realized that you had drooled a little bit. "Oh my God, " you muttered in mortification. Tyler laughed quietly as he got out and grabbed the luggage bags and slung them over his shoulder and with his other hand he grabbed the bags from your shopping trip.

You jumped down from the passenger seat and met him in front of his truck. You slid your arm through his and led him towards the nearly vacant hotel. You checked yourselves in and took the key from the hotel clerk. Tyler followed you down the dimly lit hall and you stopped to open the door. He nudged you out of the way gently and his big frame filled the door way, you heard more than saw him set the duffle bags on the floor.

You slipped into the room besides him and shut the door and slid the lock into place. You turned to see Tyler looking at the only bed in the room, you risked a glance up at him and he was frantically rubbing the back of his neck and he shot you a sheepish glance, "I can take the floor. You can take the bed." You took the shopping bags from him and pulled out two fluffy blue towels and pushed him in the general direction of the bathroom. "Go and wash the road off of you and when you get out I'll have the sleeping arrangements settled."

Tyler shot you an incredulous look and did as he was told. "Yes, ma'am." You watched appreciatively as he ducked his head and and closed the bathroom door behind him. You heard the shower turn on and you got to work, stripping the bed and putting your own fresh bedding on after you sprayed everything down with lysol. You lit the candles hoping that would mask the lysol spray.

The bathroom door opened and you turned in time to see him drying his damp hair, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. Just enough to show off his prominent v line. He tossed the wet towel into the corner and looked at the freshly made bed. "So, how's this going to work?" Tyler looked at you expectantly and you pretended to mull it over. You shrugged and started digging through your bag for your pajamas.

You felt his warmth as he stood behind you. "Did you even save me any hot water?" You looked over your shoulder at him. "Yes, ma'am. I surely did." He was laying it on kind of thick and you stood up and walked in front of him. You placed your hands on his chest and looked up at him. "And they said that chivalry was dead, clearly they haven't met the infamous Tyler Owens."

He winked at you as you grabbed your pajamas and made your way into the bathroom. You locked the door behind you and leaned against it just long enough to slow your rapidly beating heart. You wiped the steam off of the mirror and looked at your reflection. You looked ten kinds of tired as you set your clean clothes on the toilet seat and quickly stripped and stepped under the warm water. You let the water work its magic as the knots in your shoulders loosened.

You let the water run cold before you stepped out, wrapping a fluffy purple towel under your arms. You dried off and put on a pair of blue pajama shorts and a matching t shirt. You took a long breath in an attempt to calm your nerves before you stepped into the room. You opened the door and saw Tyler sprawled out on the bedside nearest the door. You attempted to make yourself busy with picking up the dirty laundry.

He muted the weather report that he was watching and looked over at you pretending to be busy in an attempt to delay the inevitable. "Hey, Y/N. It's really OK, I have no problem taking the floor. Hell, it's a step up from some of my previous sleeping arrangements." You put the dirty laundry in a garment bag and turned to look at him.

"Am I that obvious?" You asked with your hands on your hips. Your righteous indignation was enough to amuse Tyler and he patted the empty space next to him. He smirked at you as he held his thumb and finger so that they were almost touching. "Lil bit, come here. I promise you that I don't bite. Unless you ask me too."

Groaning you shut off the overhead light and crawled into the bed but didn't get under the covers. You attempted to get comfortable as Tyler blew out the candles and turned to face you. You copied his movements and slid your hands under your pillow. The movement caused the strap of your shirt to slide down your arm and Tyler's rough fingers chased the slip of fabric and continued down, gently pausing to toy with the hem of your tank top. He paused to let his knuckles lightly graze your lower abdomen and looked at you with hesitation and you nodded slightly as he continued even lower to the prominent scar on your upper thigh.

"Where'd you get this from, pretty girl?" He asked you quietly and you shrugged trying to appear nonchalant. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, "nobody goes through life unscathed. It's not possible but I fought and I survived." Tyler risked a glance up at you and saw that you were smiling at him. "What are you smiling at?"

"You. I'm smiling at you, Tyler Owens. You make me happy." He reached out for you and pulled you towards him, his large warm palm cupped your cheek and his thumb gently traced your lower lip. "Is this ok?" You nodded and leaned into him.

With zero hesitation Tyler claimed your lips with his, they were surprisingly soft and he smelled like sandalwood and sunshine and he tasted even better. He rolled with you under him and you deepened the kiss and moaned against his lips. You writhed underneath him, desperate for his skin on yours. You could feel him growing hard against your soft center and it brought another smile to your face. You brought your hand to his face and peppered small kisses over him.

Tyler looked down at you with adoration in his eyes. "You're doing it again, Lil' bit." He nudged his nose with yours and you pointed to your face. "What? Oh, this little ol thing. I couldn't find it for the longest time."

"Yeah? Where'd you find it?" You pretended to contemplate his question. "It was the weirdest thing, I found it where I least expected it to be." Tyler waited for you to finish what you were saying, eyebrows raised expectantly. You smiled up at him and kissed him lovingly. "I found it in the heart of Oklahoma."

~Fin~

❤❤

[kittlesandbugs]

FHR: Animal instincts Pairing: Chargestep Warnings: Canon typical violence and suicide ideation, and Sidestep is not in a great frame of mind fresh out of the Farm Word Count: 1103 Summary: Just a little bit of "Sidestep was found by Ortega shortly after escaping the Farm the second time" AU, Riley is having a great time lol

"Riley?" 

Flinch and freeze and no, keep going, don't falter, don't react, keep walking. Just a twitch you can smooth over feigning ignorance. No one knows you by that name anymore, and if they think they do, you'll fix them. It doesn't take much, you know that now. A tweak, a twist, a pull, you unravel the threads and become less than a memory. Less than a ghost. 

Lower your shield, open your mind, find that spark of recognition and cut the memory loose. It's just a tumor on their recollection, to be excised and—

Hand on your shoulder. 

Static-walled brain. 

Scream. 

Yours. Turn on your heel, throw a fist, soft flesh, startled grunt, pivot and run run run run. They can't catch you again, can’t trap you again. You won't let them, all you have to do is run! 

“Riley!” 

Heavy footsteps run behind you, but you're no rabbit now, you're the fox. You duck into an alley, throw a garbage can, hear the crash and stumble and swear. Good, like that, you'll escape, and if they corner you, well, you still have the gun. 

Use it on them or use it on yourself, either way you get away. 

“Riley, wait!” 

The name makes you flinch again. You, not, not you, you're nameless, name forgotten, number shucked. Riley plummeted to her death, forgotten, betrayed, alone. You're not her. Just no one. You need to be no one, no one at all, nothing, nothing of import, nothing worth perceiving. You need to not be, not until you're ready. 

But your pursuer won't let you go. 

They're gaining again, fuck, they're fast, the footsteps almost loud enough to drown the wet thuds of your own heartbeat in your ears. Your breath wheezes loud in your chest. Your muscles burn as you push through crowds that can't see you because you won't let them. You're a visage of your former self. Not yet fully recovered from years of isolation and wasting misery. The only thing sharp about you is your mind, and your pursuer is immune. 

You dart down another alley, trying to get away from the crowds so you can move and—

FUCK. 

Bouncing off a fresh and new brick wall, instinct recognizes your fatal blunder just soon enough to stop you from concussing yourself on it. You land on your ass, breathless, arms aching from taking most of the impact for your skull. What was a throughway four years ago is a deadend now. 

And now, you are too. Dead. Worse. Trapped. 

You shake your head to clear it, scrabbling around, backed up against the brick like if you pressed hard enough, you could phase through it. You fumble through your disheveled clothes, your hand seeking and closing on cold metal as you fight to free the gun from the holster hidden beneath layers of loose fabric. You're such an idiot. 

A shadow looms over you, features darkened by the blinding halo of the sun slowly sinking into the cityscape behind it. “Jesus, Riley, what's—” 

The voice mercifully stops, as does the approaching figure, as you finally, finally, train the gun on them. Your hands are shaking, unsteady as you feel, but you know where the heart is, and you won't miss it. You can't. 

“Hey. Hey, c'mon. Put that thing down. It's me, Riley.”

The voice is low and soft, like someone trying to soothe and cajole a dog on the verge of biting. Something familiar wiggles in your hindbrain like a parasite, and you refuse to let it latch on. Your hands shake harder as the figure tries to subtly inch forward. Too hyper aware of everything to let it slip by, you cock the gun. 

The hands are quick to come up, open and empty, placating and pleading. “Whoa, easy, easy…” He—your brain admits that now— he says softly, his voice raw like an exposed nerve. “It's just me, c'mon Riley…”

You know that voice. You know that stance. You know him. You lo—  no. You hate him. You pulse thuds louder and wetter in your ears, drowning out his attempt to soothe and de-escalate. Your eyes flood with burning salt, blurring your vision, but you can't wipe or blink it away. You should shoot him. You want to. He didn't try to save you, him or Steel, the other Rangers, the other vigilantes, all the rest of this fucking city. They all left you to rot and scream and suffer in the obscurity of the lab that made you just so it could eat you alive and spit out your bones. 

But he keeps inching forward, talking in that low and familiar tone that was always like novocaine to your fractious mind. Knees bending, he lowers himself down in front of you where you sprawl against the cold unforgiving brick. You train the barrel on his skull with a choked animal noise of distress, unable to put any more distance between you. And he just lets you do it, looking over your clenched and shaking hands with that heavy familiar hound-brown gaze. 

“What happened to you? Dios mio, you're a wreck,” he says, his soft voice cracking as he takes in your sorry state. He doesn't flinch as you press the cold metal to his forehead, cocked and loaded and ready to blow whatever brains he has out onto the street. 

You should. You should put a final nail in the coffin of your past. You see the weight of the last few years in the bags under his eyes and the harder plains of his face, smell it on the heavy alcohol in his breath. Your index finger strokes the trigger. Your hands shake so hard that you just might depress it by accident. Maybe you should just put you both out of your sad sorry miseries.

He just looks at you, that same way he always did. Like he has all the faith in the world you'll make the right call. Like you can do no wrong in his eyes. Like you hold his heart between your sweating quivering palms, and he'd let you… he'd let you… 

The realization makes you recoil like you'd been struck across the face, and the gun clatters to the asphalt. By some miracle, it doesn't misfire from the impact. He swipes it away, out of both your reaches. Before you can scramble away from him like the feral animal you are, he pulls you in tight against his chest. Caught in the trap of him, exhausted and weak, all you can do is bury your face in his shoulder and howl.

[isildursestrid]

NEXT! for the no excuses writing ask game 🫶

NEXT — the next line. meaning i will finish the sentence I’m on and write a new one, which you’ll get.

“Tell me something to keep me awake.” Kate turned her head to look at Tyler, the dizziness wasn’t as bad when she kept her eyes off the road.

“Like what?” His eyes darted to hers and then back onto the highway.

“Anything.” Kate wracked her brain for a topic but her thoughts were so foggy, then she remembered their conversation at the rodeo before it was interrupted. “Your family. You mentioned your aunt. What about your parents?”

“They live in Paris.”

“France?” There was an incredulous tone in her voice. Kate couldn’t fathom this, former bull riding, cowboy boot wearing, tornado wrangling meteorologist with parents that lived in France. Surely not.

“Arkansas.” Tyler’s dimple was on full display as he smiled.

“Oh.” Kate’s head hurt too much to give him grief for teasing her.

“No. Seriously, they have a ranch there. Cattle and horses mostly.” His face lit up as he spoke. “My mom Sheila she’s a former high school science teacher. My dad, Rod still runs the ranch. It’s his pride and joy. All he talks about.” She was happy to listen as the tension lessened in his shoulders and his hand loosened slightly in hers.

Thanks Robyn for the ask! I did manage to get something down though it’s rough. 🖤

No Excuses WIP ask meme send me an ask!

[shai-manahan]

not sure if its okay to ask but any plans to make jade and owen gender-selectable?

No. There are only two gender-selectable ROs in the story, and it will stay that way until the end no matter how many requests I receive. I know some authors are fine with changing set genders, but I am not, in all honesty, okay with it.

[rmd-writes]

seven sentence sunday

thanks @welcometololaland & @carlos-in-glasses for the tags, I’m getting in early while it’s still Sunday for me for once

He wonders if it’s possible for Officer Reyes to arrest himself because frankly, the image TK is being treated to – utility belt emphasising the movement of his hips as he walks and the stretch of navy fabric across his ass and thighs – should be illegal.

“If you’re done ogling the handsome officer, we could use a hand packing up,” Owen says from behind him.

TK jumps, surprised to hear his dad. “I wasn’t ogling anyone,” he protests.

Owen gives him a sceptical look. “Please, you were looking at him the way you used to look at the Halloween candy your mom bought the week before Halloween. Don’t roll your eyes at me, you know I’m right.”

tagging @strandnreyes @lightningboltreader @stereopticons @maxbegone @indestructibleheart @ships-to-sail @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21 @three-drink-amy @anchoredarchangel @tintagel-or-cockleshells @cha-melodius @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @orchidscript and an open tag 💖

[wrestlezaynia]

A sense of comfort washes over Kevin as he clings to Sami tightly. Between Sami gently stroking his back and their bare chests pressed flush together, he's beginning to feel a little too relaxed.

[writercole]

WIP Ask Game

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag @hederasgarden - I will absolutely NOT be tagging as many people as I have wips because, well, you'll see:

Scott PWP #1

Scott PWP #2

Scott Untitled

Storm Warning -- Tyler Owens

Hades!Jake

Veterinarian!Bob

Biker!Boxer!Bob

Biker!Rider!Rhett

Toxic - Charles LeClerc & Carlos Sainz

Must Be Funny - CEO Charles

Just Say Yes - CEO Dean Winchester

All Our Own

Old Money - Carlos Sainz

Boss 22 - Jenson Button

Fernando Alonso PWP #1

Fernando Alonso PWP #2

Silver Springs - OCs

Batter Up - TGM Pilots (multiple stories)

The Replacement Bride

Mob!Javy Machado

Mob!Bob Floyd

On Second Thought Part 3 - Jake Seresin

You'll Be In My Heart - Jake Seresin

Secret Marriage - Charles LeClerc

Sgt Stud #1 - Logan Sargeant

Sgt Stud #2

Unattainable - Jax Teller

Brother's Best Friend - Charles LeClerc

Clara & Tim

Law School - Matt Murdock

Cowboy babysitter

Pretty Woman AU - Bob Floyd

Pretty Woman AU - Dean Winchester

Brat Tamer Rhett

Reading Smut Rhett

Hey Lover - Jake Seresin

Wedding Date - Ryan (Yellowstone)

Historical Ranch Hand - Sierra Six

TGM/Outer Range crossover

Wait in the truck - (Yellowstone)

Wolverine PWP

Beau Simpson fluff

Anyone and everyone who wants to play is tagged bcause...phew. But those who I know are interested inmy list:

@a-reader-and-a-writer @wildbornsiren @ryebecca @deans-spinster-witch @flamencodiva @reels-and-wheels

[jeysbvck]

(can you tell im having fun making banners😭)

tagged by @sznofthesticks thank u!!🥰

have a bit of zowens angst, full fic should be up this week!

no pressure tags; @wrestlezaynia @nightmare-viper @crxssjae @xtripleiiix

***

“You're leaving me?”

Those three words shattered Kevin's heart. He wanted to tell Sami that wasn't the case, that he loved him, more than words could express, but the words got caught in his throat. Instead, he stayed silent as Sami scoffed and got out of bed.

Kevin took in every part of the red-headed man's naked form as he angrily got dressed. If this was how it was going to end, he needed to seer every single hair, freckle, scar and imperfection that made up Sami Zayn into his brain. He hated this is how it had happened, he wished he could find the words to explain more, but maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was better that Sami hated him. Better for Sami, at least.

When Sami pulled his black jacket over his shoulders and started packing his bag, Kevin scrambled out of the bed. “Wait, Sami, where are you going?!”

“I'll crash in Jeys room.” Sami said stoicly.

“Wait, please? Sami! It doesn't have to be like this! Just one more ni-”

“No, Kevin. I can't stay here.” He said, hauling the bag over his shoulder. Kevin watched as Sami opened the door and turned to the man, tears in his eyes. “Good luck on Smackdown. I hope it was worth it.”

[fangbangerghoul]

Ao3 Masterlist

ALL OF MY FICTIONS: MDNI, 18+

Starfield Tales

Updated: 04/24/24 Word Count: 155,010

Ghoul series:

1. Neon City Delights (completed) TW: Drug use, SA, Cannon Violence

Walter Stroud has finally decided to talk to you (Main character) like you are a person at Constellation. So, to prove to yourself and the companion the association has assigned to you as of late, Sam Coe, you now get to walk the streets of your hometown to complete a mission with your lead. What happens at the Astral Lounge doesn't need to be told, right?

2. Settling with the Stars (completed) TW: Cannon Violence, Alcohol

Being grounded to a planet is worse when you know you could be out doing something better with your time. Sarah Morgan wants our main character to lay low while others have been out doing quests of their own. How has our main character been settling with their down time since their near-death experience at Neon City?

3. Fleeting Pleasures (completed) <Masterpost> TW: Violence, Murder, Addiction, CNC

Our characters Crimson Fleet Arc. After going undercover our main character now has to balance who they are versus who they have to be and the line starts to blur. (Sam Coe x MC x Delgado)

4. Cellar Door (on hiatus) TW: Grief, Isolation, SA

"This famous linguist once said that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history, 'cellar door' is the most beautiful." - Karen Pomeroy from Donnie Darko

To discover the unknowns of time, space and the grand universe like a true adventurer was everything to the Constellation members but at what cost? In this small epic discover what eternity really means with our main character.

5. Heavy Metal Lover (in progress) (Fic Masterpost) Tw: cannon violence

Ghoul and Delgado are back! Ghoul is stealthy, aggressive, indulgent, and stubborn as hell. Delgado is rough, creative, intimidating, and a manipulative Crimson Fleet leader. These chapters will be windows into Ghoul's Crimson Fleet life if the ending of Fleeting Pleasures never happened.

This takes place separately from Fleeting Pleasures in a universe where Ghoul finds her footing within the Crimson Fleet. This AU is a year after Ghoul joining the Fleet and the Constellation and Sysdef foregoing any hold they felt they had on her.

Starfield Shorts

Offbeats/One Shot's:

Capacity Limit (Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: Bondage, Cannon Violence

Reader and Sam Coe are on a mission to eliminate Spacers and Reader keeps picking up too much shit.

Tear You Apart (Pirate Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: CNC, Facefucking, bondage, light forced voyeurism, it's very explicit and it's a pirate being a pirate so just be wary. This isn't your Sam Coe from Kansas anymore.

You are now Starborn in search for the remnants of what you have left behind in your new current universe. You rush to be reunited with a new version of those you cared deeply but things go awry.

soft leather and spurs (softdom!Sam x fem!reader) Tw: praise kink, soft breeding kink, language?

You are leaving the bar for the night after playing a game of let's meet like strangers with your favorite cowboy.

Bonus Stories:

Ghoul Adventures (Halloweenedition, in progress)

This Halloween edition of Starfield tales takes our Main Character and some of the crew of Constellation on a spelunking adventure in search of what is causing all of the spooky rumors at the local citizen outpost.

Ghoul Files (a miniseries in progress) TW: Smut (I honestly don't think I have anything too hardcore in this series to tag, I will update if that changes)

This is the start of entries from Ghoul's life. Not all entries will be cannon to the current series. These entries are also little tidbits to hold you over in between chapters and series! Some will be Crimson Fleet oriented; some will be regular Ghoul activities!

Ghoul's Time at Sandrock

Short 1000 words or less chapters:

That Damn Rock (completed) fem!builder x Owen Tw: Fluff, slice of life, maybe a smooch

Builder, Ghoul is struggling with gathering materials.

What Did I Get Myself Into? (completed) fem!builder x Owen TW: Fluff, slice of life, fun stuff

Builder Ghoul tries to socialize like a normal Sandrockian.

Baldur's Gatekeep, Gaslight, Gouge Eyes 3

Collection of BG3 inspired Fics:

Thorny Feelings (completed) OC Ghoul x Bearlytolerable's OC Valentine Blanche TW: smut, anal, cunnilingus, light bdsm, magic

Valentine follows his dear friend Ghoul out into the woods away from the camp of companions they've been traveling with in Faerun.

100 Followers Celebration - Bloodweave (completed) Gale x Astarion Tw: fluff, hurt/comfort kind of

While the party is taking a short rest; Astarion and Gale strike up a conversation.

100 Followers Celebration - Calm Nights (completed) Halsin x Astarion x Ghoul Tw: bathtub, relaxation

Halsin, Astarion, and Ghoul finally settle for the night into a paid room for the night after long voyaging.

Bonus Posts

Masterpost Character Editions:

Sam Coe: Collection of oneshots and features Sam Coe from Starfield

Delgado: Collection of fics featuring Delgado from Starfield

Owen: Collection of fic that features Owen from MTAS

[impossible-rat-babies]

wip wednesday!

ty for the tag @coldshrugs <3 im gonna tag (sorry for the possible double tags) @lavampira, @thevikingwoman, @hythlodaes, @fooltofancy, @birues, @galadae, @lilas and whomever else!

replaying ShB and especially the rak'tika greatwoods has me in the goofypool again

--------------

“I knew…”

They speak softly into the thick cool air between them. The sharp humming of the light drenched sky above them looms like a heavy weight across their shoulders—so ready to crush them beneath its weight.

“I knew what was happening—after il mheg, I could feel it. The light.” They glance over at Y’shtola, watching her lips purse and her brow scrunch together.

“And you still feel it?”

They nod, slow and steady.

“In my fingertips—I feel them stiffen, and a tingle when I move them again. A weight in my gut, and an itch at the back of my throat.”

She sighs, yet it does little to ease the worry that holds her shoulders tight and lips pulled to a thin line.

“Forgive me for not having spoken sooner.”

“Nay, I should have spoken my mind soon after arriving Slitherbough. Mistaken as you were to my nature upon meeting again, I would not so easily cast aside that which you beheld.” They pause, a bitter smile coming to their lips.

“A brilliant soul, I have been called before— nomenclature befitting Hydaelyn’s Chosen. And yet it is not Her light which eats away at me now.”

[bearlytolerant]

Tagged by @myreia thank you!

Tagging whoever sees and wants to share.

They called her that other builder from Portia or that girl who fought the rogue knight or, if she was lucky, simply baker. Never Sage. Except for him but not always. There was a time he hadn’t known her name but it wasn’t a very long time.

He came in at exactly 6:45 every morning. The first loaves of the day were fresh from the oven, still warm before she opened the bakery at 7. Six months of his regular patronage and the bakery was out of his way, across from the clinic, and she knew the saloon opened at 7 as well. She learned to keep the door unlocked early and welcome him in, friendship and all. It was the least she could do.

“Morning Owen,” she said as she arranged a tray full of lavender scones.

“Hey! Sage,” he said in his optimistic, jolly tone. His eyes closed and he inhaled real deep before opening them again, throwing her a smile. “Wow, it smells incredible in here!”

“Well, I do try.”

“And you succeed.” He found himself a seat near the window but she could feel his eyes on her as she finished her pastry arrangement.

She attempted to follow through on her twin’s latest words of wisdom, ringing in her head, “It wouldn’t hurt if you smiled a little more. You always look like you want to murder something. I think that scares some people a little.” It was easier when she’d been a builder. Higgins never smiled so when she showed up with her neutral expression, Portians seemed pleased and unbothered. At least they never complained to her face. But owning a bakery was a different beast from owning a workshop. It wasn’t as simple as grabbing a commission scrawled on a piece of paper on a billboard and filling the order. People that loved getting bread—well they didn’t just order bread and go—they seemed to enjoy hanging around to chat, especially Cooper.

She tried throwing Owen a smile that felt more like a grimace. Owen didn’t seem to mind as his grin widened. “Pastry of the day?” She asked.

“I always enjoy taste testing your latest confections.”

“So that’s a yes then?” She raised a brow and was answered with a small chuckle.

“Yes. Always a yes.”

[test4cab-yuri]

im writing smt for fun!! :3

Once a nightmare, subdued into a dream.

It all happened so fast, one minute Airy was announcing who would be eliminated.

The next, they were on a.. bridge? Contact lens blinked, looking from side to side. What- where.. where are all the humans? Everything looked like it was smaller than they remember. They looked up only to be met with the stars instead of the makeshift sun that always seemed to stare back at them and the other contestants. something they hadn't seen in while.

They were so confused.. they should be back with their human by now. Contact lens had realized everyone else around them were also objects. Huh.

They weren't expecting to be sent here, on the bridge. Thet noticed they were next to an abandoned red bicycle. They shrugged it off and made their way to wherever they were going.

“Maybe i should ask someone for help.” they think as they walked on the sidewalk of the bridge, cars zooming past them every now and then.

They were clueless, absolutely clueless. Where were they? Well, they knew they were in San Francisco, but exactly where? Why was everything so much.. smaller? Why was everyone else like them? An object? Did Airy send them here on purpose? Did Airy mess up?

They were so lost in thought they didn't even realize they had bumped into another person.

They blinked, stepping back before looking at who they bumped into, a nail. “Oh! My bad, sorry-” they were cut off as the nail waved his hand in dismissal, “No, no its fine. Sorry.” he said absentmindedly, he looked tired, from contact lenses perspective. They've seen tired people before, like their human. But it looked like he hasnt slept in ages, or had proper sleep.

“Are you not.. gonna continue walking or?” The nail said, interrupting contact lenses train of thought. “Right sorry, but where am i?” The nail blinked. “... You're in San Francisco?”

[Wip for now!!!]

[kittlesandbugs]

Title: Scrubbing old wounds (AO3 Link here) Pairing: Chargestep Warnings: PSTD, medical trauma, canon-typical angst, end of Retri spoilers Word Count: 1691 Summary: At some point after the wreck and moving into Ortega's apartment to heal, Sidestep has to tackle how to get clean.  It dredges up a lot of old memories and fears.

You drag your hand back through greasy hair that feels almost plastered to your skull. How long ago was your accident, since you were clean? Showered that morning, before everything went to absolute shit. Was it two days earlier that you arrived at Ortega's apartment?  You aren’t sure how long you were in the hospital before you woke up again. Three days maybe? Four? 

Fuck. You haven't had to go longer than a day since you got back to the city. You can't walk. Can't get undressed by yourself. Can't even piss by yourself. How are you supposed to manage a shower? The frustrated groan drags itself from your lips. 

"What's wrong, Ry?" 

You turn to find Ortega peering at you from around the kitchen doorway. You must have been louder than you thought. 

"I… feel disgusting," you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. Your hand sticking in dried sweat makes you grimace. "I need a shower but…" 

His lips quirk in a half-smile. "I was wondering when you'd ask."

"It can wait," you say quickly. Somehow the idea was less daunting in your head, and the reality of the endeavor is sinking its claws in.  You suppress a shudder. "I don't want to interrupt you."

"I'm just cleaning up. That can wait."  He pauses and cocks his head in thought. "Or would you rather Angie helped you with this?  She’ll be over tonight." 

Fuck, that's so much worse. At least with Ortega, you're completely protected from his thoughts. Judgments. Unvoiced questions. Argent is good at keeping hers under wraps, but you can't handle a slip. Not right now. You quickly shake your head. 

"You, please?" You sound pathetic even to your own ears. 

"Of course," he says quietly. Gently. Like you aren't a villain that lies to him constantly, just the woman he loves, and you can't even really be that for him. 

Does he suspect anything? Will he put the pieces together when Reckoning's rampage quiets the entire time you're here healing? As much as you accuse him of being an idiot, he's not about things like this. 

You tug your sleeves nervously as he takes hold of the wheelchair, guides you to the bathroom. They both know that truth now. You still can't bring yourself to wear short sleeves around them since the IV came out. Can't handle the glances you know will come. The curiosity. The pity. 

You're going to have to bear his anyway if you want to get clean. 

There's room enough for both of you and the wheelchair between all the fixtures. Ranger salary perks of living, but it is a little tight. He sidles around you to the tub. 

"I've been thinking about how we're going to do this since we left the HQ. And the only thing I've come up with is something like a sponge bath?" 

You nod. Not like you can submerge your casts, acrylic or not. Can't remove them to get excess water out. Don't want to risk anything that could complicate your healing. You're going to be too vulnerable too long as it is, and your skin itches from more than just grime. 

"Can I help you get undressed?" 

Too soft. Too considerate. You're suddenly not sure what's worse, getting manhandled like a doll or treated like you'll shatter if he touches you wrong, and it burns like sandpaper on raw nerves. 

"Seriously? Gonna be hard to give me a bath otherwise." It comes out far more acidic and sarcastic than you intended, and you flinch at the flash of hurt in his eyes. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's not.  I shouldn't be taking my shit out on you."  You hold your arms up and lean forward, a peace offering and invitation to take your shirt off. 

He takes the offered olive branch. Chuckles a little as he peels the shirt over your head. "I had a feeling you would be a terrible patient."

"I am, aren't I?" 

"You're in a lot of pain." Lips press to the top of your head. "I get it."

"I do appreciate your help."  You blink back tears. "And you bringing me here.  I couldn't…"

"I won't let them take you again. Hurt you again."

You don't believe he can really keep them from you. But the thought is nice. You sit back in the chair and look at the ceiling rather than your own acid orange torso. 

"Oh, Riley…" 

The tone of his voice brings you back to him, and he has a soft, open expression that punches you right in your guts, harder than a fist. 

"Wh-what?" Your arms cross over your chest, hiding one set of patterns and exposing another. Damned either way. "They're as much me as the rest of my skin." 

He shakes his head, tension obvious in the cords of his neck. "Not the tattoos.  The scar."

"I— oh."  Your arms fall away and you look down at the ugly Y-shape going down your breast bone, split across your belly, breaking up the tattoos. Reminiscent of an autopsy scar, but you never actually died. Not all the way, not in a way they couldn't bring you back. "That."

"What… what did they do to you?" 

You laugh. Maybe it's a little frayed at the edges, jagged like your skin. "Fixed me after Heartbreak, like I said before. Used the good spare parts inside.  Didn't care how it looked outside. Didn't matter.  No one else was ever supposed to see it."

He isn't sparking, probably turned himself off for the bath. But his hands clench tight and pale on the rims of your wheels. He's speechless for once, and it emboldens you to keep going. Keep giving him more ugly truths so he'll finally repudiate you like he should have done when he first saw the tattoos. 

"New spleen, it ruptured. Replaced some bowel that perforated. Fixed a punctured lung. Broken ribs."  You lean forward so he can see the long scars running the length of your spine and he sucks in a breath.  You knew they'd worked on it, but hadn't seen the extent until the first time you examined yourself with your puppet. "Repaired herniated discs and cracked vertebrae. I… a lot breaks in a 40-foot fall."

He winces and you half regret saying the last part. "I know," he says softly. 

"I don't know that I would have survived if they hadn't taken me immediately." A shudder runs through you. Maybe it would have been better for everyone if they hadn't. But they did, and the ball can't stop rolling now. "I don't know that I entirely survived the ride. I don't really remember much between the fall and the scalpels."

Those you remember with crystal clarity, the pain stripping your mind cleaner than their scans. Straps biting into flesh, pinned down and cut open like a frog for dissection. The jab when they cut somatic nerve control to still your writhing. Couldn't even relieve the pain with a scream, machines breathing for you through tubes unceremoniously shoved down your throat. Pain-gate broken or deactivated, and you felt everything in spades. Just like now, painkillers no longer taking the edge off. You shiver and swallow the bile threatening to rise up. 

Warm hands cup your cheeks and you almost flinch out of them. He's gone to one knee beside you, unable to slot in from the front. "Hey. Hey. Look at me. Breathe with me." 

Heart racing, breath coming in shallow pants, you didn't even notice. You swallow again, hands squeeze the arm rest, focus on warm brown eyes, warm hands, long slow breaths, letting the past lie dead where you should have. But neither one of you will stay down. 

"There." Lips press to your forehead. "It's okay. You're back, you're here, and I won't let them take you again," he says again but with more force. 

If he keeps saying that, can he will it into reality? 

"Sorry," you mutter. "I don't… This is… It's too…" You trail off, words not coming. Everything hurts, everything's wrong, everything's twisted up, how did it get… 

"Too similar to last time?"

You flinch. "Yeah."

He hums in thought and turns on the spigot, bucket already waiting underneath. Did he already have it there in anticipation of your need or did it sneak in while you were losing it? You don't know. You scrub your face with a groan and your hands come back wet with tears. Fuck. 

"How did they take care of you?" 

You freeze like a deer, not sure if you misheard over the faucet. "What?" 

"When you were hurt before. They had to keep you clean, right? For your wounds?" 

"I don't…" Hands, there were hands. You sort of remember them. Moving the shift. Lifting your limbs. Rough callous scrubbing. And sometimes they would... You shake your head to derail that train of thought. "I don't really remember everything. I was half catatonic from shock. Pain. They just did."

"Okay. Here."  He hands you a warm wet soapy cloth and retreats, as much as he can wedged in the bathroom with you.

There's a loaded look in his eyes that's throwing you. You look at the washcloth, back to him, trying to figure out what he's plotting, and you only batter against static in his brain that makes you shrink back in your chair as another tremor runs through you. 

"Riley, look at me." Your eyes flick to his. "I'm not them. I'm not going to hurt you." A loaded pause, a crooked grin. "Except when I pick you up so we can scrub your ass."

That startles a choked laugh out of you and his eyes crinkle with delight. "I think that one's unavoidable," you admit with a sniffle. Fuck, you're a mess. 

"Yeah. And we don't have to if you don't want to. You're in control here. I'll only touch where and when you ask. Help get what you can't reach. We're done when you say so. Okay?"

"Yeah…" You swallow, nod, come back stronger. A wet smile to answer his, and it's not dread drowning you this time. "Okay."

[awhisperinthenight]

a moment before disaster in my wip memoirs of nhymisa

Jo reopened her eyes a few seconds later and her gaze fell on the red carpet. Except, there had never been a red carpet in their appartment. And it wasn't a red carpet. It was blood. Her breath hitched.

---

Jo rouvrit les yeux quelques secondes plus tard et son regard se posa sur le tapis rouge. Sauf qu’il n’y a jamais eu de tapis rouge dans leur appartement. Ce n’était pas un tapis rouge. C’était du sang. Son souffle s'arrêta.