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#he's here!!!! it's still wednesday for me!!!
6ix9inewiturmom · 3 days
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Long day- matt Sturniolo
Summary: You had a long day at work and matt gives you some lovin to help with your long day :)
Warnings: SMUT, P in V, parsing, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, use of Y/N, Dirty talking, Degradation, aftercare!
A/N: I LOVE SWEET MATT!! ITS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE!! ignore the song, i couldn’t find one so since he knows sm about bags
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Today has genuinely been the worst and longest day of my life. I’ve worked front desk at a salon for the last year and a half now, i had people coming in asking me about what to do for their hair type, karen’s complaining about their hair, just overall horrible, im just the front desk lady for right now i cant really tell these fucking people what to do, make a damn appointment. Matt and I have been together for 3 years, and have been dating to the public for a year and a half, when i graduated cosmetology school. thankfully after this cursed wednesday evening i was on my way to Matt and i’s house that we also share with his triplet brothers. i pull into the driveway and make my way to the door and unlocking it.
“Baby?” i yell walking up the steps.
“he’s been in his room playing video games streaming for like 4 hours” nick says shooting me a quick smile before looking back at his phone.
i knock softly on the door “jesus christ im streaming guys” matt slams his head set down on his table and opens the door “Wha- oh my god Y/N i’m so sorry i thought it was one of them” he says quickly changing his tone giving me a soft peck on the lips.
“it’s fine” i breath out giving him a smile walking into his room.
“tell the stream Hi, baby” he pulls my hand into frame making me force a smile onto my face.
“hi everyone” i awkwardly wave to his camera watching the chat go absolutely crazy when i entered.
“okay well i’m gonna end this cause the mother of my future kids just got here” he says making a smile appear on my face.
he ends the stream and turns around facing me almost analyzing me.
“why do you keep looking at me like that?” i roll my eyes and make my way to our shared closet pulling out a pair of his sweats and a T shirt of his.
he walks towards me leaning against the door frame “all of your clothes in that closet and you still choose to wear mine, but to answer your question you seem off” he says softening his tone.
“i’m fucking fine matt, damn, all on my ass for nothing” i groan out pushing him out of my way and falling on the bed scrolling on my phone.
“umm okay” he huffs sitting down next to me on the bed “so how was work?” he says breaking the silence of tiktok playing in the background.
i groan “it was long i guess” i place my phone on the bedside table and turn towards him.
“you guess?” he questions giving me a soft smile.
“find it was so dreadful, answering calls from people who can look up these answers on google, and oh my god i had this karen come in and” i laugh softly “and she literally accidentally tried this hair mask and fried half her hair and blamed it on me, knowing i’m just the front desk representative, then on top of all of that this lady yelled at me for eating carrots at the front desk” i say while he’s staring at me passionately listening to everything i have to say.
“did you say anything to that lady who yelled at you?” he asked while looking in my eyes as passionately as he can.
“my manager heard her yelling at me calling me ‘unprofessional and rude’ and ended up almost calling the cops on her for causing a disturbance” i smile back at him.
“well it sounds like to me you need a little distraction from your long day at work eh?” he smirks leaning into me as i playfully roll my eyes and lean into him crashing his lips onto mine smiling into his kiss.
he softly places his hand on my cheek pointing his tongue out a little begging to explore my mouth, i slightly open my mouth as his tongue dives into my mouth immediately taking dominance from my tongue and intertwining with mine. his hand travels from my cheek to my breast giving my bare breast a gentle squeeze causing a soft whimper to escape my lips. his hand travels down to my waist and toying with the waistband of my his sweatpants.
“can i?” matt pulls away and softly asks me.
i smile and playfully roll my eyes “yes matt you can”
he carefully crawls on top of me tapping my waist as a signal to lift my hips up. he pulls my pink lacy underwear and pants down together in one throwing them on the other side of the room.
“such a pretty pussy” he says softly running his slim fingers in between my wet folds collecting my arousal onto his fingers “and so wet” he smirks back up at me.
“matt” i drag his name out in a whine, “please don’t tease me” i stare desperately into his eyes through my eyelashes.
“Only because you asked so nicely my love” he smiles at me leaning down and starts placing mouth kisses directly into my clit flicking upwards with his tongue.
“Oh fuck Matt” I moan out placing my hand on top of his head and pulling at his hair causing him to grunt through my pussy sending vibrations through me.
“You like this hm?” he smiles and shoves his fingers into my hole curving them slightly upward and making me go absolutely insane.
“Yes!” I chant repeatedly.
My walls tighten around his fingers and my clit spasms between his teeth. “Someone’s close eh?” he smirks leaning his head upwards while moving his fingers in and out while reaching my sensitive clit with his thumb making figure 8 movements around my bud.
“S-so close Matt” I cry out arching my back off the bed and rolling my eyes back.
“Uh-huh? You close?” he taunts smiling at me and immediately thrusts his fingers into me touching my G-spot so easily.
“YES- FUCK MATT” My hips twitched upwards “FUCK I'M GONNA CUM” I scream out bucking my hips up.
“Come on baby, cum for me” his voice softens looking down at me coming unglued from just his fingers with amusement in his eyes.
With just his words, the knot in my stomach broke and cum dripped down from me and onto his fingers.
He lightly tapped my leg “I ain't done with you just yet, sweetheart” he said smirking at me.
“Matt I don't know if I can take another one..” I said out of breath still coming down from my very intense orgasm.
“You know your safe word, Y/N,” he says ripping his shirt off. “And you never have to be afraid of using it, I'll stop immediately you know this.” he pulls his sweatpants and boxers off in one freeing his hard cock and slapping his stomach.
he crawls over me placing my legs on either side of his hips and slowly agonizing using his tip to slide through my wet folds teasing me.
“Matt,” i whine “please fuck me”
“Patience sweet girl, patience” he smiles at me slapping his cock on my clit and making me jerk upwards and squeal.
He slowly puts his tip into me then removes it and slowly enters it again and removes it before roughly bottoming out into me gripping the headboard for support making his knuckles white.
“Oh Matt” i moan out.
He rolls his hips deeper into me smirking down at me “You like this hm? God, you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, and taking it so fucking well” he groans out.
My legs wrap around his waist forcing his body to get deeper each time he pushes himself into me making my eyes roll back into my head causing me to see starts, My moans become hoarse from the strain on my voice.
“Aww has my gorgeous whore gone dumb? Can't talk? What happened to all that attitude you had earlier?” he grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger.
“Uh huh, uh huh” i bite my lower lip and nodding vigorously.
“Words or I stop” he thrusts his hips deeper into me and maintains his violent thrusts.
“YES MATT FUCK- RIGHT FUCKIN THERE” I finally answer him with a strain in my voice.
My response only made him thrust into me deeper and faster. My cervix spasms around his cock signaling how close i am making a long groan exit from his lips. “Hold it”
He rolls his hips and pounds his hips into mine “Matt” I drag out his name with a moan.
“Come on, you got it” he nods his head continuing to thrust and abuse my cervix.
“S-so f-fucking close” I whisper scream out.
“Cum” he buries his head into my neck moving his hips in a way that kisses my cervix making me release all over his cock creating a white ring around the base of his cock.
His thrusts become sloppier as he releases into me painting my once pink walls a nice white color and slowly pulling out watching a mixture of his cum and mine slowly fall from my hole.
He vaults to his bathroom quickly so no one catches a glimpse of him or me in our naked state to grabs a warm cloth and slowly runs it down my legs cleaning him and me up before lying next to me placing my head on his chest.
“I'm sorry for the attitude I had earlier, I just had a rough day and shouldn't have taken it out on you,” I say “Thank you for lighting my mood up” I smile facing the TV drawing small circles on his stomach.
“Hey don't worry about it, we all got bad days baby, I'm just glad you're good now, that's all that matters to me” he softly says running his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp and falling fast asleep in Matts arms.
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A/N Pt 2: HEY LOVES!! Sorry I haven't been so active in trying to recover from being violently hungover for the last 2 days LMFAOO… I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY!! i promise ill be active more!!
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thebestofoneshots · 2 days
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Hi love just wondering when the priest Remus fic will be out? I LOVE LOVE your writing and I am so excited for this one
I truly hope It's this Friday! Especially with the GC chapter we're going to have, I feel like you guys deserve a little compensation. If I can't manage though, it will surely be next week.
Now, and to build more excitement, a little teaser:
NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN | TEASER
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Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them. Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him). Warnings: The complete story will contain smut. Innocence! Kink, allusion to fingering and self-pleasure. Reader is seducing a catholic priest and has a bit of a corruption!kink. Smut under the cut.
After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.” 
“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.” 
“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.” 
“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.” 
“The way I see it, Saint Griffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see beautiful priest Remus.” 
“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been craved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.
“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and leaving exiting the church. 
You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.
Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be. 
He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his atention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.
(...)
The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray. 
That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?” 
It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.” 
He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was. 
almost.
“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.” 
“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?” 
Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you? 
Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps it would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you. 
“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you. 
Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”
His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end. 
 “I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.” 
You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.” 
“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.” 
“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–“ Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.” 
“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it. 
“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.” 
“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?” 
“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course. 
“Pray Our Father 10 times and–“ 
“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”
Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.” 
You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.” 
Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man. 
(…)
Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in a way that was almost painful. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned. 
“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dead and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.” 
“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it. 
“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood. 
“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?” 
Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.” 
Read More Marauders Fiction Here
No sweeter innocence than our gentle sin will be out soon!
Tag list open (Just tell me if you want to be added)
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sooo.... anyone else ever wondered how different ATLA would have been if aang had been frozen at age 16 instead of age 12?
yeah... me too 😌 my new fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" follows the events of the show, but with only aang aged up, while everyone else remains their canon age.
also...cmon....how funny is it to switch zuko and aang's iconic dialogue to "you're just a teenager!" "...so are you?"
enjoy the excerpt from (the upcoming) third chapter!! updates every wednesday!!
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
Aang led the way through the temple, and Katara winced at every single skeleton that lined the halls of the stone pathways carved through the sacred building. Aang couldn’t look at them, didn’t let himself look at them. Katara didn’t blame him for it. She hadn’t been able to look at the handful of bodies left after every Fire Nation raid, and yet, here were the bodies of all of his people, his entire culture. 
She was snapped out of her spiralling train of thought by the screech of stone against stone as Aang funnelled air through a complex looking lock system, the gears driving it creaking from disuse. Sokka and Katara flinched, but Aang stayed still. 
The door opened to hundreds, if not thousands, of stone statues, gazing unflinchingly back at them.
Sokka dropped into a defensive position out of habit, as if the statues would lunge toward them at any minute, and Katara just rolled her eyes and giggled at her brother, pushing past him as she stepped towards the statues in awe. Weaving between them, she stopped at one of a woman with traditional water tribe clothing that made her heart twist with homesickness. She felt Aang standing behind her, his exposed chest through his one-shoulder robes radiating heat in a way that made her face flush with colour.
He reached up over her to brush a finger against the statue’s delicately carved hair. “She has your little…hair thingies.”
Somewhat unconsciously, she reached up to brush her own loops of hair, grazing the white bone-beads with her ring finger. “I didn’t realise the great Avatar paid attention to things like that.”
A teasing smile spread across Aang’s lips. “I think you’ll find that I’m a very attentive person.” He said the words innocently enough, but the way honey seemed to wrap around every syllable caught Katara off guard, sending warmth spreading down her spine as she momentarily forgot how to speak.
Aang grinned again, looking as though he was about to add something, before a chittery, squeaking noise echoed through the room, bouncing between statues. “What was that?” Sokka yelped, jumping away from the statue whose armour and sword he had been examining. The screech of metal against stone sounded from somewhere on Sokka’s side of the room, and both Katara and Aang quickly wove between statues to join him, all three tensing.
From between the statues, the sound got louder, and a helmet dragged between the sculptures, moving haphazardly as it scraped against the floor.
“GHOSTIE!” Sokka yelped, jumping backwards as he pointed an accusatory finger at the helmet. Katara stayed silent, visibly pale. Aang looked back at the two of them, then faced the helmet again. He stepped through those same strange airbending forms, his movement ending with the sharp expulsion of wind from his fist. The helmet blew away, clattering against the stone, revealing….
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
♥ check out the two chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->
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daffi-990 · 14 hours
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @wikiangela @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard
I’ve been tagged by so many people for so many different wip games but after finishing Rival Firefighters 🚒 .. I’m a bit burnt out and the writing beans have taken a little vacay.
That being said, have something I wrote a while ago for my Daylight Series (which I would love to revisit .. just need inspiration to strike and stick around).
(Btw this is the song that Buck is singing ⬇️)
Eddie knocks on the front door, fiddling with his car keys as he waits for Buck to let him in. When he gets no response he tries again. Still nothing. Wondering whether Buck went down to the beach or if he’s fallen asleep on the hammock out back, Eddie makes his way around the back of the house.
He’s halfway along the side of the house when he hears the sounds of a guitar. Ah, so that’s why Buck didn’t hear him. Eddie is about to step up onto the porch to make his presence known when Buck starts singing, halting Eddie’s movements.
I can't tell which way is home
I've been gone for so long
It's an empty world up here
I skip stones and wonder
How long 'til I'm discovered
It's a quiet life up here
The song is hauntingly beautiful, and Eddie can hear the raw emotion in Buck’s voice that tells him the pain of the song was very real, is very real. He quietly moves forward, being careful not to interrupt Buck. The man in question is sitting on the back porch steps that lead down to the beach, guitar held comfortably against him like it’s a part of him.
What If I run away to Mars?
Would you find me in the stars?
Would you miss me in the end
If I run out of oxygen?
When I run away to Mars
Three, two, one I miss you.
I’m sorry, I’ve got issues.
Eddie hasn’t known Buck for long, but he feels a deep ache in his chest for his friend. What happened to Buck to warrant this heartache? Is that why he came to Hartlan Shore? Buck’s told him and everyone else who’s asked that he moved because he needed a fresh start and why not Hartlan?
Eddie’s starting to think maybe that’s not all to Buck’s story. Whatever Buck left behind to come here is Buck’s business and Eddie’s not going to push him for information, but her hopes that one day Buck will trust him enough to share that part of himself.
Would you miss me in the end
If I run out of oxygen?
When I run away to Mars
The song comes to an end, Buck staring blankly out towards the ocean. Eddie blinks back the tears from his eyes and gives Buck a few minutes before stepping onto the porch into Buck’s peripheral.
No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @the-likesofus @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @steadfastsaturnsrings @shitouttabuck @spagheddiediaz @sunshinediaz @devirnis @fiona-fififi @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @captain-hen @neverevan @bekkachaos @missmagooglie @monsterrae1 and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag 🏷
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heartstringsduet · 1 day
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Happy Wednesday. 💞 Thanks for tagging me last Sunday and yesterday. My brain is still trying to compure anything in general but I'm excited to read them and your snippets if you want to share today. I hope you're all ready for some spice of the next First Aid chapter. thanks for tagging me @carlos-in-glasses
“Don’t you mean ‘make love to you’?” Carlos teases and means all the same. From the last hour together, he had imagined taking their time in the warmth of TK’s bed, continuing with sweetness clogging both of their throats.
“No, I meant fuck me,” TK says under a breath. His eyes go wide like he surprises himself with how demanding he sounded. “But we don’t have to. Whatever you-”
Carlos surges forward then to stop TK before he can propose to go along with anything but what he actually wants. 
“Fuck you where? Right here?” He asks against the shell of TK’s ear. “Do you want me to drive you against the kitchen island? Make you come on the countertop?” His hand slides into the wide leg of TK’s shorts and roughly massages the soft skin of his thighs. TK's breathing picks up. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
Pupils wides, TK stares at him with unmatched hunger. He releases his cherry bitten lips and closes them. There is something on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t seem able to form into words.
“I want to hear anything you fantasize about,” Carlos encourages again, then licks up the tendon of his neck.
TK shivers. “I want you… to rip off my clothes and suck me.”
“Here?”
“Right here. Nice and slow.”
Caros’ cock pulses. His hips move of their own volition, driving his his filling cock into the cabinets to get friction, even at the cost of pain. “What else?” 
TK hesitates then says, “Drive your long fingers into me.” He fists Carlos’ shirt. “One by one, until I’m full of you.”
“And?”
“And make me take them until I beg you to fuck me into the counter.”
It’s not how Carlos thought today would go, not like he longs for gentleness himself right now but he still finds his blood boiling at knowing TK trusts him enough to ask for what he really wants.
Instead it's reminiscent of the first few times they hooked up, back when they barely knew each other and filth came at no detriment. Carlos grabs TK’s healthy foot dangling down beside his body and brings it between his own legs. TK immediately understands, raising his leg so the shin rests against Carlos’ bulge. Carlos gives a tentative buck, in a way that makes him see stars. TK moans too, attuned to him.
Open Tag <3
@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @carlos-tk @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut
@birdclowns @whatsintheboxmh @lightningboltreader @alrightbuckaroo
@lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @strandnreyes @reyesstrand
@paperstorm @orchidscript @freneticfloetry @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad
@sznofthesticks @goodways @decafdino @eclectic-sassycoweyes
@liminalmemories21 @sanjuwrites @bonheur-cafe @thisbuildinghasfeelings
@honeybee-taskforce @louis-ii-reyes-strand @kiwichaeng @safeaswrites
@never-blooms @theghostofashton
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theprinceandagcd · 1 day
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wip wednesday <3
taking @kiwiana-writes open tag bc i have a job interview later today that I need to focus on - yikes!
Working on another rizcriz prompt this week - it's two dummies who insist that they aren't into each other playing a variation of gay chicken and will be the first rated E thing I've posted in a hot minute (which I'm hoping will get me out of my RBB slump). So, here is what I'm thinking will wind up being the summary snippet :)
“Henry.” Alex crawls over and braces his hands on Henry's thighs, sitting up on his knees so that he can meet Henry's gaze. His own lips curl automatically when he sees that Henry is already smiling, but he schools his features into a more serious expression. “Do you want to play?”  “Do you?” Henry reaches out to push a curl away from Alex's forehead and trails a finger down the side of his face, making Alex shiver. He leans down until his mouth is beside Alex's ear, and Alex feels lightheaded all of a sudden, his breath held hostage in his lungs. “Because you're going to lose.”  Alex shoves him away, shaking his head as that challenge reverberates in his brain and sparks the fire in his veins, quickening his heart rate as he grins. “You're fucking on, Fox.”
tagging below cut bc of the weird glitch still happening!
@anincompletelist @dragonflylady77 @fckngyrs @firenati0n @henryspearl
@heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jmagnabo92
@kj-bee @magicandarchery @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes
@onthewaytosomewhere @porcelainmortal @priincebutt @read-and-write- @stellarm
@suseagull04 @thesleepyskipper @tinyarmedtrex
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WIP WEDNESDAY
Thank you to @tizniz @aroeddiediaz and @bidisasterevankinard for tagging me!
Here is a snippet from the upcoming chapter of Cowboy With A One Track Mind.
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“Evan,” Eddie calls, beaming still.
Evan struggles to catch his breath, despite standing completely still and not having recently exerted himself at all. 
“H-hey.”
He forces his legs to carry him forward, across the parking lot, eliminating the final feet of distance between himself and Eddie. When he reaches him, he freezes, unsure of what to do next. 
“Took me a second to recognize you with the facial hair,” Eddie teases. 
A little self-consciously, Evan touches his face. The other guy had left him not quite clean shaved, but less bearded, and more just scruffy. Evan has kept up a beard of decent fullness, but no length, more or less since he lost his sister. 
“It looks good,” Eddie adds quickly.
Evan smiles. “Uh, thanks. Yeah, I… I, uh, don’t know how to act right now, honestly.”
---
Tagging @pantsaretherealheroes @jeeyuns @exhuastedpigeon @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples
@fionaswhvre @steadfastsaturnsrings @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @mangacat201 @daughterofscotland
@athenagranted @evanbegins @wildlife4life @buckleybabyblues @adarkermiserablecrow
@epicbuddieficrecs @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend @watchyourbuck @buddieswhvre
@l0v3t0hat3y0u @lyricfulloflight
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sylix-royalty · 3 days
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I’m getting back into writing, so have a Hotch/Reid snippet!
can… can i have a hug? please?
And a little bit of
oh, sweetheart- come here.
With a dash of
how long has it been since someone hugged you?
Type: Angsty Fluff
Warnings: Kinda just sad, brief mention of drugs
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Spencer was very obviously the most touch starved of the group. It wasn’t to no fault of his, not really. It was clear he didn’t prefer physical contact most of the time, but Aaron wasn’t stupid. Aaron knew that despite Spencer’s sensory issues and mild germaphobic tendencies, he really just wanted to be hugged sometimes.
It was more obvious after some cases, when his arms wrapped around himself as he sat alone on the back of the plane, curled up as staring out of the window rather than reading whatever book he’d already read 7 or 8 times that week. It was only Wednesday after all.
It was less obvious after others, the itch of his hands as he read, how they’d twitch before he’d read a page. Aaron noticed, but he wasn’t sure that the others did, too careful of Spencer sensory. And Spencer clearly didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire of his own mind by his need of physical contact. But, Aaron wasn’t stupid. He was a profiler for a reason. But he wasn’t just going to jump down Spencer’s throat like that, putting him on the spot would be unhelpful and most likely backfire.
So, Aaron watched more intentionally. Trying to give an obvious sign to Spencer that he was here for him, should Spencer need him. It took a while, longer than Aaron liked to admit, but finally Spencer came into his office after hours.
The case had been a bad one. Having to deal with not only children, but Spencer was taken as a hostage and belittled so bad that Aaron was on the verge of shooting the man just to make him shut the hell up for good. Of course he couldn’t, that would risk his job, and more importantly Spencer’s life, but the thought definitely crossed his mind.
“Do you mind if I sit?” Spencer asked softly, and Aaron nodded slowly.
“Stay as long as you need,” he said gently, trying not to use that boss tone he knew he had. Spencer nodded, noting the attempt, and sat on the couch, curled up with his arms around himself once again, staring at the wall.
Aaron worked in silence, not going to push or pry answers out of the younger. He knew Spencer was struggling, and he had a terrible reputation when it came to asking for help. But Aaron hoped he was slowly working through that.
“You don’t believe him, do you?” Spencer whispered, finally. “You don’t… you don’t see me as a… drugged up, ratty—“
“No, Spencer,” Aaron cut him off, not allowing Spencer to repeat the words of the UnSub. “I don’t see you like that. No one does.”
“I do,” Spencer whispered, “I feel like that, sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if everything’s worth it.”
“It’s all worth it,” Aaron whispered.
“You would say that,” Spencer whispered, and Aaron set his pen down.
“Meaning?” Aaron asked without trying to sound offended or offput.
“Meaning you see me,” Spencer explained. “You see the man I’m trying to be. You… you understand… who I am in a way that most other’s can’t.”
“I’m perceptive,” Aaron reasoned.
“Yes,” Spencer agreed. “But you also care.”
“This team cares about you,” Aaron reasoned.
“They do,” Spencer nodded. “But they care so much about one thing, something you’ve been… overlooking lately.”
Aaron blinked.
“You’ve been staring at me, after cases. Reading me. I see your eyes. I feel them.”
“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, that wasn’t my intention,” Aaron promised.
“No, I know,” Spencer promised. “I just…” he inhaled slowly, his arms falling from where they were wrapped around him. “Can I have… have a hug? Please?”
Aaron exhaled slowly from where he sat, finally hearing the words come from Spencer’s mouth almost made him jump out of his chair. He still moved a bit too quick, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind or care as he quickly got off the couch, hearing Aaron’s gentle “oh sweetheart, come here,” and met Aaron halfway, wrapping his arms around Aaron’s shoulders, and Aaron’s arms around his waist.
Spencer almost broke right there. But Aaron held him up strong, as per usual. He kept his hold for as long as Spencer needed, or wanted, which was longer than he originally calculated.
“When was the last time someone hugged you?” Aaron whispered into his ear.
“Too long,” Spencer whispered, voice broken and scraggly as he pushed his nose into Aaron’s shoulder.
“Don’t let it ever be that long again,” Aaron whispered.
“I’m here, Spence. I’m right here.”
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taste-thewaste · 16 hours
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happy wednesday, friends! hope everyone's having a great week <3 it's the return of the flames banner!
thank you so much for the tags @luainthewild @o0anapher0o @piratefalls @duchessdepolignaca03 @onthewaytosomewhere! can't wait to get to your words!
listen, this is not new or surprising news, but I am living in my tummy fic universe. it is in my head rent free. and so i'm forcing everyone to come along with me (threatening but affectionate). this week i'm working on a more explicit companion fic to the original, involving some lots of teasing and dom-my Alex and i'm really really excited about it >:) it's still early, so nothing too crazy yet, but here's a bit from that:
Henry turns back and sees Alex sitting up and grinning at him as he shoves a bookmark in his novel and pushes it onto the coffee table. “You’re sleeping.”  “I was, until some flaxen-haired vixen kissed me. Get over here.” Alex quirks one eyebrow at him and fuck, Henry’s his, hook, line and sinker.  Henry goes over to the couch and climbs up, sitting in Alex’s lap. He can’t help but notice the tiny grunt that falls from Alex’s lips acknowledging the weight of Henry atop him. It brings a soft flush to his cheeks, knowing that Alex can feel every ounce of him pressed into his own body. Henry kisses Alex hungrily, nibbling on his lower lip gently. “Missed you,” he says softly into Alex’s mouth. Alex slides his hands over Henry’s hips, holds him steady. 
open tag as always, but also tagging: @england-would-fall @henrysfox @tailsbeth-writes @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead
@lfg1986-2 @agostobuwan @typicalopposite @bitbybitwrites @doublecheekedkinard and
@priincebutt
(& @cemm1966 idk if you write but i know you will be interested in this!)
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voxofthevoid · 2 days
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We're at Shibuya Swap Wednesday #9, and I still can't predict an end. Part 3 was largely unplotted when I started writing it, and I think I can see the end—and it's miraculously shorter than I anticipated—but let's see how the path there looks.
I didn't write a lot this week, so the fic is at 85k and halfway through Chapter 16. There's a fuckton of conversations in this part because I'm still reaping what I sowed in Part 1. Several bits were like pulling teeth, but I'm happy with the final shape. The following section is a goyuu reunion of sorts:
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Yuuji opens the door and steps into the dark.
His eyes don’t need an adjustment period; he’s always had good night vision. The tall figure standing stock-still, silhouetted by the sparse moonlight outside an open window, still makes him startle. A second later, two pools of radiant blue cut through the dark—Gojou’s open eyes, fixed right on Yuuji.
“Gojou-sensei,” Yuuji breathes.
“Hello, Yuuji,” comes the soft reply.
The door gently clicks shut behind Yuuji, almost making him jump. His heart is in his throat, and it stays right there as the seconds stretch on, held in place by reasons better and worse than a door closing on its own. On the opposite end, Gojou is still and unmoving. His features are blank, the shadows on his face made strange by the glow of his own eyes. Yuuji’s known for a while that Gojou’s eyes have their own fire, but he’s never seen them like this.
He’s never seen Gojou like this.
“Sensei,” Yuuji says, speaking in hushed tones on instinct, “I’m gonna turn the light on.”
“Go on,” is all Gojou says.
Yuuji gropes around the walls beside the door, and it’d be easier if he just looked, but he finds that he can’t take his eyes off Gojou. A part of him is afraid, not that Gojou will do anything but that he’ll melt into the shadows if Yuuji takes his eyes off him, vanishing like he was never here.
He finds the switchboard and promptly blinds himself.
“Shit,” he swears, slapping his hands over his eyes. He rubs the tears away, peering out from between his fingers and getting smarting eyes for his trouble. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Gojou says, sounding amused; the familiarity of it makes something in Yuuji unclench.
He blinks and squints until the light don’t feel like it’s stabbing his eyes anymore, and then Gojou’s there in full color, eyes bared and hair down and smiling at Yuuji, as solid as a dream can ever get.
“Gojou-sensei,” Yuuji says helplessly, “you’re back.”
“I am. Miss me?”
“I—yes, I was—”
“Worried?”
“…Yeah.”
Gojou’s smile widens. It’s not really a nice expression, too sharp around the edges, but Gojou means these smiles. They’re real, even if they’re poised to cut.
“I’m not the kind of man,” Gojou murmurs, “you should worry about, Yuuji.”
“Yeah, well…” Yuuji shrugs. “Can’t help it, I guess. And it’s different this time.”
“Oh?”
“You were walking into a trap, weren’t you?”
“Oh?” Gojou repeats with an unholy amount of relish. “You really have been thinking about me.”
Yuuji fights down the urge to throw up his arms. “I just told you that!”
“So you did,” Gojou admits. “No need to worry about your dear teacher—I won’t be outmaneuvered twice by the same person. Once was enough. My pride won’t survive a repeat, and we’d hate that, wouldn’t we?”
“Uh, sure,” Yuuji says, not sure how to say Gojou’s pride isn’t what he’s worried about.
Gojou chuckles like he can tell anyway. “Your mother’s a wily bastard, by the way. I hope you haven’t inherited any of that. I quite like how straightforward you are. You’re not hiding some Machiavellian cunning under all that cute pink fluff, are you?”
“What?” Yuuji asks, his brain stuck on cute pink fluff.
“No.” Gojou tilts his head, humming. “No, you’re a different breed.”
“Okay?” Yuuji wrenches his attention back to the point. “How’d it go? Did you find them, did you—”
“I found the body,” Gojou answers. “Booby-trapped to hell, with the most innovative mix of barriers and seals I’ve ever seen. Maybe I should start teaching you those. See if you’ve got a knack for it. Genetics isn’t everything, but for sorcerers, it means something more often than not.”
Any other time, Yuuji would have leaped at the chance to learn more and get stronger, but right now, all he can focus on is—
“The body?” he asks.
Gojou blinks once; his eyes are glowing even in the bright light. “The brain was absent. The residuals led me on a wild goose chase for a while, but they didn’t lead to anything. I knew it wouldn’t. I was tracking that body’s cursed energy, you see. And I found it. It’s all I found. We should have killed them at Shibuya. But every version of you will be a sentimental fool, won’t you, Yuuji?”
Yuuji takes half a step back before forcing himself to stop. Gojou’s stare is a piercing thing, like twin lasers—hotter than the sun, with none of its warmth. Yuuji feels like it’ll sear off his flesh, chunk of cooked meat falling to the ground at his feet.
He can’t feel Gojou’s cursed energy at all.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuji says very gently, “about your friend.”
Gojou stills, somehow without moving a single muscle. Something seems to suck the air out of the room.
Yuuji smothers the urge to yank the door open and throw himself out of this room. It’s not real anyway. Yuuji doesn’t actually want to run away from Gojou. He’s not scared. It’s just that, sometimes, Gojou gets like this, all silent and still, and every animal instinct Yuuji has starts screaming. It happened with Sukuna too, the one time they met face to face, but Yuuji was too angry then to feel anything else, and it was only later, when the way his spine writhed as Gojou bore down on that volcanic curse felt oddly familiar, that Yuuji even realized that a part of him had responded the same way to that blood-and-bone domain and its vicious master.
With Gojou, there’s no anger to swallow everything else, and Yuuji’s left to grapple uncomfortably with the disconnect between his instincts and his feelings. It makes him feel guilty too. Gojou’s on a whole other level as a sorcerer, as a living being, but he’s still just a person. And he’s Yuuji’s teacher. Yuuji likes him; he worries about him. There’s something profane about any part of Yuuji reacting to Gojou the way it did to Sukuna, and Yuuji has a hundred reasons to want to get stronger, but one of them, close to the top of the list, is that he wants to bear the brunt of Gojou’s power without even a sliver of his soul squirming.
He takes a step closer to Gojou, not once looking away from the violent supernova of his eyes.
Something shifts in Gojou’s expression. It doesn’t soften, but it’s less blank, less alien.
“I’d ask who’s been telling tales,” Gojou murmurs, “but it doesn’t matter, hm? You should save your pity for the ones who matter, Yuuji. My old friend lost that right years ago.”
Yuuji…has no idea what to do make of that.
But he knows one thing. “It’s not pity, sensei. I just wish none of it happened to you.”
“And what would you know of what happened to me?”
Yuuji shrugs, trying and failing to shake off the discomfort layering his skin. “Not much. Just that your friend became a curse user and, uh, died. And then Kenjaku took his body.”
“That’s not all you know,” Gojou says with damning certainty. “Tell me how he died, Yuuji.”
Yuuji looks down at his feet for a moment, breathing in deep. Getting air into him still feel like a fight, and his heartbeat is echoed all over his body, from the skull to the soles of his feet. There’s something unnatural happening.
But he trusts Gojou.
Yuuji looks him in the eyes and says, “You killed him.”
“I did. Are you sorry about that too?”
“Yes, sensei.”
“What if I told you I didn’t even hesitate? He was my best friend, you know. The only one I ever had.”
Yuuji’s eyes smart again, his chest squeezing tight. “That must have felt terrible.”
Gojou blinks.
The air lightens.
There’s a long, heavy sigh, followed by Gojou slumping back against the open window, his entire torso supported by empty space. His eyes haven’t wavered from Yuuji or lessened any in intensity, but there’s a pout on his mouth that doesn’t suit the situation at all.
“Are you for real?” he complains.
“Uh, yes?”
“I don’t believe it. Come here, I need to pinch you.”
“What? I’m not doing that!”
“I’ll come there then.”
“No—eck.”
Yuuji didn’t even see Gojou move, but there are fingers pinching his cheek and a toothy grin filling his vision, and his instinctive struggling does down as he processes the new proximity, the rest of the world fading to make room for the warmth and size of Gojou’s body. He’s so close to Yuuji, their chests almost touching, and more and more of his features burn themselves into Yuuji’s vision. His jaw is a sharp curve, the kind you could cut yourself on, and the rest of his face isn’t any better, painfully pretty. Yuuji can’t help noticing that his lips are cracked, without a hint of their usual glossy sheen. It only becomes more obvious when Gojou’s impish grin eases up, settling into a quiet, crooked smile.
Yuuji stares at them for a very long moment, his mouth drying out to match Gojou’s lips.
He looks up. Radioactive eyes gleam a hot blue, threatening to swallow him whole.
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @thelettersfromnoone and @katnissdoesnotfollowback for WIP Wednesday. Post the last line you wrote, snippet, or plot bunny!
Next chapter of these final hours (which will get finished at some point 😭)
“Where did my husband go?” I demand of a nurse closest to his now-empty bed. “Where is he?” “They’re fitting him with a new prosthetic,” she says, shrinking back from my looming presence. It’s likely, he will need one right away to move on his own, but there’s still that voice in my head telling me to view every strange person here as a possible killer. And that target is still on Peeta.  “Where is that?” I ask. “Take me to him. Now!” But the nurse runs away from me and Gale’s hand is on my arm. He whispers, “Tone down the lovesick act. You’re scaring people.” I pull my arm away. “This isn’t an act!” He doesn’t get angry like I expect, even if his eyes harden a little. I don’t care if he thinks I’m lovesick for Peeta, he doesn’t understand how much danger he’s in. Doesn’t understand that any way of staying myself relies on Peeta staying alive.
Tagging: @chaoswithinthemind @safeinpeetasarms @venti-venus @notsocooljess @tetheredfeathers
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ivettel · 2 years
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SUZUKA, 2022 - by Zak Mauger
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call-him-akihiro · 5 months
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Alpha Flight (2023) #5
Writer: Ed Brisson
Artist: Scott Godlewski
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compacflt · 10 months
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for todays wip wednesday i thought it would be kind of fun to do a little wips vs final drafts post just to kind of illustrate how far back first drafts can really start. so following the famous 5+1 fanfic format (4+1 cause u can only post 10 pics on mobile)—four wips (left) & their related final drafts (right) + one that is still a wip (bottom two)
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💧💧Spit-Fixation💧💧
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merge-conflict · 1 month
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wip wunday
tagged by @streetkid-named-desire
<You told him your name,> Johnny said, quietly. <Your real name.>
<All names are real,> V murmured.
They were drowsing still, flirting with consciousness but otherwise content to lie warm and naked in bed. She was exhausted after their exertions, but too stubborn to fall asleep for more than a few minutes at a time, which suited Johnny fine. He’d missed her company, if not her bitchy temper, and it was just beginning to hit him how little time they had left.
<You know what I mean.>
V gave a small sigh, an admission that she did, in fact, know what he meant. Takemura’s thumb rubbed idly over her hip, and she yawned and put her hand over his. His quiet, pleased sound produced a little starburst of happiness in her chest. Gonk.
<I thought at best he’d tolerate me, you know?> She was tracing the outlines of his knuckles along the alternating patterns of metal and synth skin as she spoke. Johnny had expected her to evade with a pithy remark, or maybe clam up again, but instead she was just quiet for a while. Pulling together all the little threads of her mind. <Never had anyone do that for me.>
<Tolerate you?>
<Care if I was happy.>
Considering the usual caliber of rat bastard she attached herself to, it wasn’t surprising, but it still made him angry. He could feel, underneath it, V’s soft exasperation at the reaction. He sighed. <Breaking my heart, V.>
Her lips tugged into a smile. <Sorry.>
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