help meeeeeee

[obstinatrix]

Urgh. Okay, I'm horribly See Spot Run with my writing today. And, you know, yesterday as well. Not funny. I have porn that needs to be written. And, you know, spn_summergen. (A pause while I cry about that. Okay, done.) I am 22K into a J2 AU which I may sit on until after Big Bang season but really want to get written because it's eating my brain; I owe a Sam/Dean/Cas for help_nz - and, damn, it is hard to get those three to fuck. And then there's DCBB which I'm not even thinking about. I did at least get some work done on the PhD this morning, but I'm off work tomorrow, and I reckon that means half a day for PhD stuff and half a day for J2 AU. And then possibly fictictactoe, if I can get on a roll. But apparently I do not have a roll to get on right now. SO.

Give me one of my own stories, and a timestamp sometime in the future after the end of the story, or sometime in the past before the story started, and I'll write you at least a hundred words of what happened then, whether it's five minutes before the story started or ten years in the future.

Masterlist is here.

um. someone please request something? I fail at life today.

Maybe I shouldn't sign up for the samdean_otp minibang thingy if I'm having this much trouble getting shit done. But I'm totally going to. GOOD LIFE CHOICES, I MAKE THEM.

Comments

[shinyslasher.livejournal.com]

OMG, I don't even care about posting on LJ from work at this point! I want MORe from An Instrument of Justice, that fic was so goooood!

Future, the next time they meet ;) Pretty plz & thank you! :)

scoreboard (1/1)

[obstinatrix.livejournal.com]

If someone had asked Jared to pick Jensen's apartment out of a line-up, he's pretty sure he'd have been bang on the money, even if he'd never actually seen it before. Jensen's apartment is like Jensen in pretty much every conceivable way. Jared's not exactly a home furnishings kind of guy, not least because his two dogs tend to make any place look 'lived-in' (read: untidy) within hours. Jensen's place, contrarily, is high-ceilinged and flash and modern, all clean lines and light and larger than life. His bed looks like something off of Star Trek, all chrome and suspension, except it'd probably be cast in the role of the spaceship rather than any of its furnishings.

"Wow," Jared says, when Jensen opens the door to reveal it.

"Yeah," Jensen says, palming Jared's backside through his suit trousers, "my thoughts exactly."

Turns out, Jensen's good at more things than arguing and blowjobs. His mouth opens to Jared's in a warm, easy slide, rich and sweet with the wine from earlier, and his hands make light work of Jared's clothes, and then his own. Jared's never been with a guy who was quite so - adept, and Jensen seems aware of it, laughing at the look on his face as he throws himself backward onto the bed, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"Hey," he says, low and smirking. His cock is a flushed hot curve against his belly, precome glistening at the slit. "Gonna stand there all day, Padalecki? Some of us lead busy lives, you know?"

"Fucker," Jared shoots back, but the heat in it is nothing but sexual as he knees his way onto the stupidly massive bed, straddles Jensen's waist. "I'm gonna fuck you to within an inch of your life, you hear me?"

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "Big words," he teases; pushes his hips up against Jared's. Jared hisses a breath through his teeth at the contact, tries not to shove back against it, but it's no use. Their cocks slide together slick and hard and perfect. Jensen hmmms in his throat. "Do it."

"Asshole," Jared says, and then flushes when he reads in Jensen's eyes the inevitable mockery, the whipcord teasing. He ducks his head, shoves Jensen's thighs up and back, and Jensen's not laughing when Jared licks at him there, mouths at the furl of muscle clenched tight.

"Shit," Jensen says, rewardingly broken, "Jesus - Jared!"

Jared doesn't think he's ever felt such a spur of heat lance through him at the use of his first name; but then, to Jensen, he's always been Padalecki. He pulls back, mouth slick, and works a finger into Jensen, right up to the first knuckle. "We on first-name terms now?" His own voice is tight, but Jensen's, when he speaks is tighter.

"Maybe if you - shit - if you fuck me real good, Padalecki," he grits, and he's going for cockiness, Jared can tell. But he's rocking his hips, pushing back down against Jared's fingers, like he wants more, and Jared can play that game. He's been wanting to play it for quite some time.

He grins up the length of Jensen's body, slow. "Get right on that, then, shall I?" Another finger, and the bump of Jensen's prostate slides under the pads of them. Jensen arches up off the bed with a cry, which seems to bode well.

When he comes, Jared buried inside him to the hilt, Jensen rasps out Jared's name, long and low and stuttered with desperation. Jared chalks it up as a victory. It seems fair. That makes it Jared: 2, Jensen: 4.

Jared's pretty sure that, playing by the new rules for scoring, he can break even before morning.

Re: scoreboard (1/1)

[mistyzeo.livejournal.com]

DEEEElightful.

Re: scoreboard (1/1)

[shinyslasher.livejournal.com]

*THUD* THANK YOU!!! <3 I can't get enough of cocky!Jensen lately and this is just AWESOME and GORGEOUS and SO NGGGGHH. You totally made my day!

Good luck with the rest of your writing projects! :)