Writing, D&D-playing, 40yo blogger. || DISCLAIMER: Contents may be explicit! 18+ content. || I'm on AO3 as TariTheNurse. || Masterlist || Check out Tari-reblogs for, well, reblogs of other people.
Feel free to browse along and enjoy - I’d be delighted for any comments and reblogs you’d throw my way as it truly makes me happy and feels like my work is appreciated. Or maybe head to my AO3 and kudos there?
However: Don’t repost, ofc. Not here, not anywhere else - not even credited. Also please for the love of all you hold dear, don’t feed my works into anything AI. Please. I beg you. I actually care about my stories and what happens to what I write - some of the chars might not be mine but everything else is.
On a different note: I have a sort of taglist so if you want on it, just let me know. It’s probably safest to send an ASK and once I’ve answered it should be good.
Always watch out for individual chapter warnings/content.
Reader is per default female unless otherwise stated.
Latest updates:
I update my high fantasy D&D campaign “I see fire” as I get the notes from the sessions transcribed - see further below for masterlist on that. It can be read even if you don’t play the game or any other TTRPGs so check it out!
Other than that, it’ll be very sporadic what I post and hugely dependant on feedback because I’ve run tired posting things and feeling like I’m screaming into a void.
...
Tari’s June Jukebox Scribbles Masterlist (WIP)
There’ll be a bunch of drabbles coming throughout the month of June - thanks to a wonderful challenge by @societynsoelsscribbles: June Jukebox Scribbles. So starting from June 1st, keep an eye on the masterlist for music inspired drabbles.
MCU Masterlist
Featuring Bucky, Heimdal, Loki, Natasha Romanoff, N’Jadaka, Sam Wilson, Shuri, Steve, T’Challa, Thor, Tony Stark, and Wanda. Placed Wolverine/Logan Howlett, Deadpool, and soon Eddie Brock / Venom on here too!
Anime Masterlist
Currently including fics for the fandoms of: Fireforce, Gachiakuta, Haikyuu, Naruto, Jujutsu Kaisen, a few Spy x Family, and a bit for Arcane.
Nightingale (featuring Hatake Kakashi) is unfortunately on an indefinite hiatus due to lack of interest/interaction.
Fantasy Masterlist
LotR, The Witcher, Mollymauk from CR’s 2nd campaign, and a single Lovecraftian monster. “Fantasy” refers to canon and not necessarily to the fics’ settings themselves.
Supernatural Masterlist
A single series (RiP/hiatus, link to AO3) and some various one-shots both smutty and platonic and with and without reader insert.
Others Masterlist
A masterlist with characters that didn’t fit the other chategories. It’s growing! At the moment, you can find Curtis Everett, Clark Kent, Jake Jensen, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, and a single Syverson here along with a Project Hail Mary fic.
Challenges and celebrations!
Wonderful contributions by people who have decided to partake in the 1k follower celebration challenge as well as the masterlists for the challenges I’ve participated in!
Original Fiction Masterlist
A masterlist of both short stories and a series. I really hope you’ll check it out and if you do please share it with others - it’s frightening to leave the safety of fanfiction but I’m quite proud of these works!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Thanks @vunblr for the tag 💙 I did do a little work on my WIP’s over the weekend… but it was all handwritten! So… had to make sure everything was up to date so I could do this properly.
I have three WIPs on the go (and the working titles are basic right now but because I have so many bunnies it’s easier to differentiate)
rules: send me an emoji in an ask, and I’ll write 3-5 sentences from that wip. You can send me more than one emoji in an ask or multiple asks! My wips right now are:
3️⃣ A/B/O Triad - Which is correct - three’s a crowd or third time is the charm? Follow a female!omega on her journey.
📱 Dating Apps - with a job that demands being called at all hours female!reader turns to dating apps to satisfy her needs.
😩 Interruptions - (A follow up though to Dating Apps though it could be read as a standalone) Trying to arrange hook ups is never easy when you and your FWB both could be called away at any minute.
I feel like it’s so typical that I’m writing smut before the first piece is even posted.. FFS Soels they haven’t even met yet
Wait....is this where we tell about our wips we got cooking? Well, in that case! I've got a few that I'm polishing up at the moment and here you get the run down even if it's not weekend ;)
"Trying again" - Sam Wilson x fem!reader.
Sam has made up his mind on how he can protect you best. (This is for the JuneJukeboxScribbles)
"Wazzuuup" - Eddie Brock/Venom x fem!reader.
Venom is *almost* able to stay out of Eddie’s business. (Also for JuneJukeboxScribbles)
"Other plans" - Kuroo Tetsuro x fem!reader.
The party almost seems at an end...but then it picks up for you. (Another JuneJukeboxScribbles)
"Cherry" - Steve Rogers x fem!reader.
Cherry? (The last JuneJukeboxScribbles I've got prepared atm)
And finally...
"LXXXV" - OC Zilvra Shadowsong.
Things are hard and full of dangers.
Thank you for the tag, @soelstress! Took the liberty of making a sort of moodboard to keep it a bit compact...and that's not my forte, but hey! I had fun with it :)
If I've answered differently on questions like these before, it's because I have a hard time choosing between some tropes and just picked what I felt like at the moment ;P
slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high-school romance or middle-age romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or genderbent // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane
SUMMARY: Lazying at the pool can also be eventful.
CONTENT: Dorky flirting, first and second kiss.
A/N: The 7th of June brings us Jump (For My Love) - Pointer Sisters / “I know you like what you see”.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
Jump right in
“Ouch ah eek oof ouch!”
Jake’s practically tap-dancing bare feet over the sun-baked tiles before launching into the pool. Moments later, he erupts like a breaching whale near where you’re sitting with the feet dangling over the edge.
“Come join me!” he grins, wiping water off his glasses without success.
Shaking your head at his efforts, you hold a hand out. “Here. You should’ve taken them off.”
“I wouldn’t be able to see you so well,” he worries.
He always flirts with you. Normally, you roll your eyes at it but really like it because Jake’s cute. No. He’s more than cute. He’s amazing. Sure, he talks a lot, but the sound of his voice is nice.
“Then you just have to be closer,” you suggest.
“I’d have to be real close.”
He slips off the glasses and steps over to give them to you.
“Yeah, how horrible,” you drawl, voice laden with sarcasm.
You should’ve known it would only spur him on. Maybe that was your plan. You’re not sure and you can’t think that far anymore when his large hands land on your knees, pushing them apart so he can step in between.
“I’d have to be this close to see,” he mumbles, stretching up a bit.
“I know you like what you see,” you whisper, heart fluttering and the glasses in your hand forgotten.
“Uhuh.” He confirms, leaning closer. “Can I?”
You nod and he kisses you. It’s quick but solid. Mouths smushed and the tip of his tongue caressing the seam of your lips as if to taste you before he pulls back.
“I’d have to be that close,” he gasps, slightly cross-eyed.
“Might have to insist on you never wearing your glasses, then. Like them, though.”
That makes him smile broadly before kissing you again.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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PAIRING/STARRING: Ryland Grace & Rocky the Eridian.
WORD COUNT: 280.
SUMMARY: Keeping secrets isn’t fun.
CONTENT: Secrets, sadness and joy mixed.
A/N: Every Breath You Take – The Police / “Every smile you fake” will see us through the 16th of Jukebox.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
One more
Rocky is working on...something. Whatever it is, it’s making him happy, judging by the chirps and whistles coming from him. Sometimes, he’ll pause and put down the xenonite threads to take in the process.
“What uh what are you doing there, buddy?” Grace asks.
He’s trying to catalogue the many recordings, putting in time stamps to make it easier to navigate for the people back ho- back on earth. Now the human pauses, shifts the glasses down below his chin to get a better look at the metallic construction. But Rocky shifts, blocking the view.
“Must not look, request!”
“Why not?”
The stout figure vibrates with excitement. “Is present!”
Grace swivels the chair both to get a better feel for what Rocky’s up to but mostly to try to get a look at what the Eridian is making.
“You’re making a present for me?”
“Incorrect. Present for Earth. You take it with you home to them. Statement!”
It’s a stab in the heart that brings a sour taste to the back of Grace’s mouth. Keep smiling. There’s a lot Grace doesn’t understand or remember from before he left but he knows it’s a one way ticket and he knows Rocky would be devastated if he found out. That’s why he’s lied about it before. But with every smile he fakes, it gets harder to keep up the charade. Maybe I’m just lying to myself. Pretending it’s not going to happen is easier than to accept the truth.
“That’s...that’s really nice of you, Rocky,” he manages with a soft voice. “I’m sure they’ll like it.”
Rocky chirps, pleased with himself, and sets to work once more.
PAIRING/STARRING: Ryland Grace & Rocky the Eridian.
WORD COUNT: 280.
SUMMARY: Keeping secrets isn’t fun.
CONTENT: Secrets, sadness and joy mixed.
A/N: Every Breath You Take – The Police / “Every smile you fake” will see us through the 16th of Jukebox.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
One more
Rocky is working on...something. Whatever it is, it’s making him happy, judging by the chirps and whistles coming from him. Sometimes, he’ll pause and put down the xenonite threads to take in the process.
“What uh what are you doing there, buddy?” Grace asks.
He’s trying to catalogue the many recordings, putting in time stamps to make it easier to navigate for the people back ho- back on earth. Now the human pauses, shifts the glasses down below his chin to get a better look at the metallic construction. But Rocky shifts, blocking the view.
“Must not look, request!”
“Why not?”
The stout figure vibrates with excitement. “Is present!”
Grace swivels the chair both to get a better feel for what Rocky’s up to but mostly to try to get a look at what the Eridian is making.
“You’re making a present for me?”
“Incorrect. Present for Earth. You take it with you home to them. Statement!”
It’s a stab in the heart that brings a sour taste to the back of Grace’s mouth. Keep smiling. There’s a lot Grace doesn’t understand or remember from before he left but he knows it’s a one way ticket and he knows Rocky would be devastated if he found out. That’s why he’s lied about it before. But with every smile he fakes, it gets harder to keep up the charade. Maybe I’m just lying to myself. Pretending it’s not going to happen is easier than to accept the truth.
“That’s...that’s really nice of you, Rocky,” he manages with a soft voice. “I’m sure they’ll like it.”
Rocky chirps, pleased with himself, and sets to work once more.
SUMMARY: Geto is in a bad place, living only in short moments.
CONTENT: Bad mental health, drug abuse, messy timeline (bursts of clarity), brief smut (oral male rec), loneliness.
A/N: The prompt for this day of the #JuneJukeboxScribbles is Bad Habits – Ed Sheeran / “I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do”.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
My last
He loves it.
The bass throbs in every single one of his cells, becoming a part of him as he sways to the music along with the crowd of people. His hands are on the hips of a pretty girl, her ass rubbing against his groin that’s pulsing off beat.
She’d crawled onto his lap in the booth, short skirt riding up and a pill on her tongue as she kissed him, tipping him into a different world.
It’s not the first time.
It won’t be the last.
It’s in these moments he feels found. Scratch that. It’s in these moments he feels. The lights are brighter and prettier, the music more ethereal.
Fingers stroke through his long hair, tugging deliciously at his scalp. Lips find his collarbone, lipstick and a bruise being left behind as she kisses her way down, popping the buttons of the shirt one by one as she lowers herself to her knees before him.
The colourful lights are gone, replaced with the flicker of a back alley street lamp. The wall rough against his palm as he supports himself against it, looking down at the girl. How did they get out here? Then she takes his length in her mouth and it doesn’t matter anymore.
Tossing his head back with a groan, he thrusts lazily into her throat, ignoring the choking sound and the way her nails dig into his ass. She’ll get accustomed to it.
Fuck, it’s tight. Feels good. Feels.
Feels hollow. A voice in the back of his head warns him as he falls into the bed that it can’t go on. Looking to his side, he finds an empty pillow. Empty like him. The high’s gone and he’s got nothing left to lose, or use, or do.
SUMMARY: You’re just living your life: work, hobbies, friends, crush on your boss. The usual. Then a mystery lands in your lap.
CONTENT: Mystery, pining, fluff, kissing.
A/N: Today’s prompt for Flufftober Spring Edition is “Secret Notes”. As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog - that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my TAGLIST and my MASTERLIST for more.
Crumbs of love
You find the first note tugged partially into the bell on your bicycle. You wouldn’t have noticed it if it wasn’t because you actually had to use the bell and it sounded off. Grabbing at the piece of paper while still biking, you’re annoyed about the piece of trash but then you notice the heart drawn on it and choose to hold on to it, too curious to let it go.
Once off the bike – the note still in your hand – you make sure to lock your old trusty mode of transportation before unfurling the baby-blue piece of paper.
>>You make the world a better place.<<
You don’t recognize the handwriting and most likely it’s just a bit of whimsy that someone has decided to spread at random, not knowing who the recipient would be...but it makes you happy nonetheless.
When you get up in the apartment, you stick the note to the fridge with a magnet to ensure a bit of positivity every day.
----
The second note appears on a rainy day.
For once you’ve taken the metro (good thing too, because it’s pouring)m brushing up against people with your purse clutched tightly under you arm and a hand on a pole to keep the balance. People have their faces down, illuminated by phone screens or eyes half-closed as they listen to whatever is playing in their headphones and earbuds. No one talks to one another but you don’t mind the relative quiet after a long day at work with plenty of meetings and phone calls. The air is stuffy and damp, making the windows fog slightly.
You zone out, shifting out of the way at the various stops to allow other passengers to enter and leave.
At your stop, following the throng of people up the stairs, you pull the hood up to shield from the rain that will hit you soon. You stick your hand in your pocket...and feel something odd. It causes a few grunts of displeasure when you stop dead in your tracks, forcing others to skirt around you. But you don’t care.
You recognize the baby-blue paper and the squiggly heart. The handwriting inside the note as you unfurl it is also familiar because you’ve looked at it often enough as it hangs on your fridge.
>>Your smile brightens the day.<<
For a moment you frown, a bit creeped out by someone having been that close to you...but then again: the metro was crowded so the place of the note itself is maybe not what should concern you. No. It’s the face that it’s the same person who wrote both notes.
Is this person someone you know?
Stuffing the note back in your pocket, you force yourself to move. Ignoring the puddles and the almost sideways rain, you hurry home.
---
There are more notes after that. They are always kind and encouraging and they always only appear after you’ve been at work so you quickly figure that the person must be from there.
It would be easy enough to spy on people’s handwriting but there’s something in you holding your back until the Friday the note you get is densely scribbled:
>>I love you. I should tell you but I cannot for fear of rejection. You’re the reason I get up in the morning and it’s with your face for my eyes that I fall asleep. Forgive me.<<
That note keeps you up most of the night and the rest of the weekend, you’re wracking your brain to think who it might be – and coming up empty.
---
You spend a greater deal of the Monday ambling through the workspace, trying to get a glimpse of peoples’ handwriting. Ambling past Natasha’s table, you discreetly glance to her notepad but see only shorthand notes that mean nothing to you.
“Looking in the wrong place, sweetie,” she mumbles, never looking away from the screen.
Somehow you don’t even doubt she knows what’s going on because Natasha has an uncanny knack for knowing everything that’s happening in the company. She never explains how. Never reveals her secrets or even brags about it – just dumps snippets of information for the rest of you to scrabble over and question until the truth is revealed and you see she was right all the time.
“Oh? Hot or cold?”
Finally, she leans back in the chair, tapping her chin with a perfectly manicured finger. “Hmmm...person is hot but you’re way off track.”
“Duly noted,” you smile.
Moving on, you’re stopped by a slight cough that fails at disguising a “wrong way”.
Turning, you move the short route past the next desks (finding no matches to the writing) towards the end of the room with the two offices of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, CFO and COO of the company. That’s where you pause.
You know these men well, having worked with them for a handful of years, have been to meetings with them often and watched them write on whiteboards (though Tony prefers to handle things digitally). And that’s when it hits you: you know the writing.
The door to Steve’s office opens and he’s standing there like an answer to your thoughts.
You should have known, because you’ve committed every detail about him to memory, torturing yourself with longing for something you can never have: your boss. Maybe that’s why you didn’t connect the dots because it’s impossible.
“Oh,” he smiles, as if surprised to see you. “Perfect timing, can I borrow you for a moment?”
Nodding, you follow him back into the office, too aware of the door closing behind you. Your heart is going crazy in your chest, threatening to make you dizzy and you have to focus on your breathing for a moment to calm down just enough to return the new smile from Steve.
“Please, take a seat,” he motions to the large chair in front of the desk.
He doesn’t go to sit on his chair but rather leans against the desk, hands on either side of him as he crosses the ankles. He appears relaxed...but you see how hard his clenching the edge of the table.
Something’s wrong. Or is he...is he crushing on you?
“Sir, am I in trouble?”
He looks surprised at the idea. “What? No!”
That settles it for you. Glancing past his handsome figure to the stationary, you spot the baby-blue notepad near the half-closed laptop.
“Then...what is this about, sir?”
“Please don’t call me sir. Steve’s fine.” He licks his lips and you can’t help but wonder how his lips would feel if you kissed them. “I just...wanted to check in with you? How you’re doing?”
It’s adorable, really, how he’s feigning innocence while having left you those notes.
“I’m...alright,” you admit, trying to to fight back the smile that’s threatening to erupt. “Can I confide in you?”
His brows pinch and the jitters are gone. “Of course.”
You lean forward, conspiratorially. “I’ve got a secret admirer, I think...I’ve been getting notes from someone.”
“Anything untoward?”
Shaking your head, you have to bite the inside of your cheek because this man is apparently bad at lying. “Kind and encouraging.” Then you force a frown. “But I have a crush on someone already.”
You can see the moment the words shatter his dream: his enthusiasm disappears like dew before the sun and he straightens up.
“You do? Who?” He barely manages to make it sound interested rather than like an interrogation.
Looking down, you shake your head. “I can’t say...it’s not appropriate. You know...mixing work and emotions and such...”
“It’s someone from inside the company?” You can hear the ice in his voice now and as you spare a glance, you see how his nails are digging into the underside of the desk, his knuckles white. “So I know them...”
“Yeah, you know him. Everyone does. They look up to him for good reason too: he’s kind and smart and funny and -”
“I get it!”
Pushing to your feet, you step next to Steve, reaching over the desk to grab the notepad. From your pocket, you take the stash of notes. They are frayed at the edges. The writing a bit faded from all the time you’ve handled them.
“But for all the smarts he has, he’s not as secretive as he’d like to think.”
Gently, you push the notepad and the notes towards him, making him take the stack with shaking hands. Your fingertips meet and next moment the stack of papers is falling to the floor so he can take your hand instead.
“You knew...and still...?” Maybe he’s trying to sound indignant but the smile on his face is telling another story. “How long have you known it was me?”
You grimace but it doesn’t break your own smile. “I honestly just found out right before you asked me in here.”
Breathlessly, he reaches out to cup your cheek but stops just before making contact. “Will you give me a chance?”
Leaning into his touch, you whisper: “Of course.”
There’s a sparkle in his eyes that you never have seen before when he leans in to kiss you. It’s careful, slow enough that you could pull away if you wanted to. But you don’t. Instead, you meet him halfway. His lips are warm and soft, moulding perfectly against yours as if they were made for it. You both inhale sharply. It brings you his scent of aftershave and soap, causing you to be lightheaded.
Another month, another wonderful challenge from @societynsoelsscribbles - this one dedicated to the amazing music that makes our heart sings and keeps the creative juices flowing. A collection of old and new, classics and less known. I'm here for it!
Shared for all is that they are just around 300 words each - so nice little snacks.
The drabbles that follow (one each day through June, so stay updated) will range in fandom, trope, smut or not, and so on - so LOOK OUT FOR INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS other than what's indicated on this list!
Always watch out for individual warnings/content.
Reader is per default female unless otherwise stated.
1st - Nonsense (Deadpool, MCU)
2nd - Make me sorry * (T'Challa, MCU)
3rd - Exchange (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)
4th - Inhale * (Satoru Gojo, JJK)
5th - A home for two (Steve Rogers, MCU)
6th - Did you have fun? * (Natasha Romanoff, MCU)
7th - Jump right in (Jake Jensen, The Losers)
8th - Lost, found paradise (Wanda Maximoff, MCU)
9th - A certain kind of sadness (Bucky Barnes, MCU)
10th - When I think about you... * (Ryomen Sukuna, JJK)
11th - Crush (*) (Syverson, Sand Castle)
12th - Prove it (*) (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)
13th - Not alone (Bucky Barnes, MCU)
14th - 23:56:08 (#) (Dean Winchester, SPN)
15th - My last *% (Suguru Geto, JJK)
16th - One more (Ryland Grace, PHM)
17th - Trying again (Sam Wilson, MCU)
18th - Wazzuuup * (Eddie Brock/Venom, MCU)
19th -
20th -
21st -
Quite a bit of drabbling has been done already and (as you can see above) more's to come. Have some fun reading these and let me know what you think, pls!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
SUMMARY: Geto is in a bad place, living only in short moments.
CONTENT: Bad mental health, drug abuse, messy timeline (bursts of clarity), brief smut (oral male rec), loneliness.
A/N: The prompt for this day of the #JuneJukeboxScribbles is Bad Habits – Ed Sheeran / “I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do”.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
My last
He loves it.
The bass throbs in every single one of his cells, becoming a part of him as he sways to the music along with the crowd of people. His hands are on the hips of a pretty girl, her ass rubbing against his groin that’s pulsing off beat.
She’d crawled onto his lap in the booth, short skirt riding up and a pill on her tongue as she kissed him, tipping him into a different world.
It’s not the first time.
It won’t be the last.
It’s in these moments he feels found. Scratch that. It’s in these moments he feels. The lights are brighter and prettier, the music more ethereal.
Fingers stroke through his long hair, tugging deliciously at his scalp. Lips find his collarbone, lipstick and a bruise being left behind as she kisses her way down, popping the buttons of the shirt one by one as she lowers herself to her knees before him.
The colourful lights are gone, replaced with the flicker of a back alley street lamp. The wall rough against his palm as he supports himself against it, looking down at the girl. How did they get out here? Then she takes his length in her mouth and it doesn’t matter anymore.
Tossing his head back with a groan, he thrusts lazily into her throat, ignoring the choking sound and the way her nails dig into his ass. She’ll get accustomed to it.
Fuck, it’s tight. Feels good. Feels.
Feels hollow. A voice in the back of his head warns him as he falls into the bed that it can’t go on. Looking to his side, he finds an empty pillow. Empty like him. The high’s gone and he’s got nothing left to lose, or use, or do.
SUMMARY: Geto is in a bad place, living only in short moments.
CONTENT: Bad mental health, drug abuse, messy timeline (bursts of clarity), brief smut (oral male rec), loneliness.
A/N: The prompt for this day of the #JuneJukeboxScribbles is Bad Habits – Ed Sheeran / “I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do”.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
My last
He loves it.
The bass throbs in every single one of his cells, becoming a part of him as he sways to the music along with the crowd of people. His hands are on the hips of a pretty girl, her ass rubbing against his groin that’s pulsing off beat.
She’d crawled onto his lap in the booth, short skirt riding up and a pill on her tongue as she kissed him, tipping him into a different world.
It’s not the first time.
It won’t be the last.
It’s in these moments he feels found. Scratch that. It’s in these moments he feels. The lights are brighter and prettier, the music more ethereal.
Fingers stroke through his long hair, tugging deliciously at his scalp. Lips find his collarbone, lipstick and a bruise being left behind as she kisses her way down, popping the buttons of the shirt one by one as she lowers herself to her knees before him.
The colourful lights are gone, replaced with the flicker of a back alley street lamp. The wall rough against his palm as he supports himself against it, looking down at the girl. How did they get out here? Then she takes his length in her mouth and it doesn’t matter anymore.
Tossing his head back with a groan, he thrusts lazily into her throat, ignoring the choking sound and the way her nails dig into his ass. She’ll get accustomed to it.
Fuck, it’s tight. Feels good. Feels.
Feels hollow. A voice in the back of his head warns him as he falls into the bed that it can’t go on. Looking to his side, he finds an empty pillow. Empty like him. The high’s gone and he’s got nothing left to lose, or use, or do.
SUMMARY: Geto is in a bad place, living only in short moments.
CONTENT: Bad mental health, drug abuse, messy timeline (bursts of clarity), brief smut (oral male rec), loneliness.
A/N: The prompt for this day of the #JuneJukeboxScribbles is Bad Habits – Ed Sheeran / “I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do”.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
My last
He loves it.
The bass throbs in every single one of his cells, becoming a part of him as he sways to the music along with the crowd of people. His hands are on the hips of a pretty girl, her ass rubbing against his groin that’s pulsing off beat.
She’d crawled onto his lap in the booth, short skirt riding up and a pill on her tongue as she kissed him, tipping him into a different world.
It’s not the first time.
It won’t be the last.
It’s in these moments he feels found. Scratch that. It’s in these moments he feels. The lights are brighter and prettier, the music more ethereal.
Fingers stroke through his long hair, tugging deliciously at his scalp. Lips find his collarbone, lipstick and a bruise being left behind as she kisses her way down, popping the buttons of the shirt one by one as she lowers herself to her knees before him.
The colourful lights are gone, replaced with the flicker of a back alley street lamp. The wall rough against his palm as he supports himself against it, looking down at the girl. How did they get out here? Then she takes his length in her mouth and it doesn’t matter anymore.
Tossing his head back with a groan, he thrusts lazily into her throat, ignoring the choking sound and the way her nails dig into his ass. She’ll get accustomed to it.
Fuck, it’s tight. Feels good. Feels.
Feels hollow. A voice in the back of his head warns him as he falls into the bed that it can’t go on. Looking to his side, he finds an empty pillow. Empty like him. The high’s gone and he’s got nothing left to lose, or use, or do.
SUMMARY: Geto is in a bad place, living only in short moments.
CONTENT: Bad mental health, drug abuse, messy timeline (bursts of clarity), brief smut (oral male rec), loneliness.
A/N: The prompt for this day of the #JuneJukeboxScribbles is Bad Habits – Ed Sheeran / “I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do”.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
My last
He loves it.
The bass throbs in every single one of his cells, becoming a part of him as he sways to the music along with the crowd of people. His hands are on the hips of a pretty girl, her ass rubbing against his groin that’s pulsing off beat.
She’d crawled onto his lap in the booth, short skirt riding up and a pill on her tongue as she kissed him, tipping him into a different world.
It’s not the first time.
It won’t be the last.
It’s in these moments he feels found. Scratch that. It’s in these moments he feels. The lights are brighter and prettier, the music more ethereal.
Fingers stroke through his long hair, tugging deliciously at his scalp. Lips find his collarbone, lipstick and a bruise being left behind as she kisses her way down, popping the buttons of the shirt one by one as she lowers herself to her knees before him.
The colourful lights are gone, replaced with the flicker of a back alley street lamp. The wall rough against his palm as he supports himself against it, looking down at the girl. How did they get out here? Then she takes his length in her mouth and it doesn’t matter anymore.
Tossing his head back with a groan, he thrusts lazily into her throat, ignoring the choking sound and the way her nails dig into his ass. She’ll get accustomed to it.
Fuck, it’s tight. Feels good. Feels.
Feels hollow. A voice in the back of his head warns him as he falls into the bed that it can’t go on. Looking to his side, he finds an empty pillow. Empty like him. The high’s gone and he’s got nothing left to lose, or use, or do.
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PAIRING/STARRING: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack Kline, Death.
WORD COUNT: 300.
SUMMARY: It’s been one hell of a ride – no pun intended.
CONTENT: Death, a bit of gore, sacrifice, mourning, afterlife, supernatural elements, acceptance.
A/N: For the 14th of jukebox, we got the prompt Play That Funky Music – Wild Cherry / “Til you die?”.
Canon divergent! I’ve not watched beyond the middle of season 14.
As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog – that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my taglist for the challenge and my general MASTERLIST for more.
23:56:08
What a ride it’s been. As Dean lays down the knife, he can’t help but smiling. There’s been tough times. Periods where he didn’t want to be part of the game anymore. But in the end – now – he’s gotta admit it’s been worth it.
Saving people. Hunting things.
You’re gonna do it til you die?
Walking over to the shape on the floor, he looks down at his brother. Sammy. Face already calm. Dean’s never really stopped to study Sam’s face but now he sees that the thin lines around the eyes and the corners of the mouth have smoothed out, making him look young again.
Dean had been too late to stop the monster from killing his little brother. He’d held Sam in his arms as he bled out and now...now there are more on the way but he’s taken his time to say goodbye and lay Sam comfortably.
“You promise? He’s not in Hell or purgatory?”
Green eyes seek confirmation but he’s gotta take Jack’s word for it. Jack, of all people, who’s come to reap them himself with Death at his side
“He’s in Heaven,” Jack promises. He still looks young. “He’s waiting for you.”
The shack shakes with the force of the attack of the monsters.
“Why now?” Dean asks, knowing all too well that Jack has the power to stop it. Reverse it. “Why not years ago or later?”
It’s Death who answers: “It is simply time.”
For a moment, Dean hangs his head. Then he lays down on the floor next to his little brother, taking Sammy’s hand in his like when they were kids. And nods.
“Dean? Aren’t you gonna eat the fries?”
He looks across the table of the diner to where Sam’s poking at his salad, smiling.
