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23. We talk in the dark as we fall asleep, and we are objects in the night sky outside of time. (it is the exact opposite of alone.) (but also no pressure!)

Another old prompt! This one is only two months late.

–

Six days, Jared thought, getting ready to turn in for the night.

Six days since Richard went back to the hostel.

That was how Jared liked to think of it. It was less sad than thinking, six days since Richard went home.

After Jared signed the lease on this place, he’d gone out to his car, alone, and wept. My own home!, he’d thought, sobbing brazenly with fear and joy and gratitude. He’d allowed himself - just once - to feel triumphant, to exult in the splendor life had granted him, all the very things he never thought he’d get.

A place to himself. Jared could decorate as he wished, listen to Bonnie Raitt as loud as he desired. He could lounge around the place in just his fun socks and his bathrobe. When he was alone, Jared could be who he was, not what people wanted from him. A pile of desires in the shape of an oddly-shaped man.

Of course, Jared knew, it hadn’t quite turned out the way he hoped it would. There’d been the squatter, those cold nights spent in the garage, and heaven knew what happened to his sister’s ashes. But there’d been luck, too, and kindness, and dear, generous Richard offering a place on his bedroom floor, like a knight leading Jared to the palace.

How delighted he’d been to repay the favor!

That was all over now, though. Now his condo felt too quiet. Jared wondered if it was possible that there could be extra empty space here now, space there never was before, in the spots where Richard and his things had been. His telescope, his cheap shampoo, his sweaters and his sweatshirts, replaced by a dark, hungry void.

It wouldn’t hurt to just - one phone call - just to check in, to make sure Richard wasn’t spending another night locked in a Starbucks bathroom. He told himself it was what any decent COO would do.

Jared reached for his phone. He was just about to dial when -

“Richard?” Jared picked up, his brow furrowed with concern, already calculating and accounting for disaster. Loss moved at the speed of light. “Is everything - ”

“Yeah, yeah. This is dumb but NOVA’s on and I was thinking about how we - wondering if you were - are you, uh - heh. I was kinda just calling to say hi.”

“Well, hi!” Jared waved, stupidly.

He put his phone on speaker. Laid it on his pillow, right next to his head. That night, he fell asleep soothed by the sound of Richard’s breathing.

#jarrich #nsfw #jarrich fic

clutchhedonist

If you're still doing feel-good fic prompts... Jarrich and a day out on the town, visiting a park, going to a cute lil' cafe and bookstore and maybe semi-public bathroom sex <3

This day is just honestly life gooooals, amirite?***“Shh, shhhhh.” Jared soothes against the nape of Richard’s neck.

Richard stutters out a gasp, pitches his hips back and bites down on a whine. He lets his forehead come to rest against the stall divider. One of Jared’s arms snakes up around his chest to support him.It was the leaves that had done it. The way that Jared’s eyes had lit up as they’d passed the park, the way he’d sighed wistfully over the bright autumn hues. They could afford a day off of work, right? It was one day.“C-Come on, Jared.” Richard begs as he grinds back against him, hitches one knee up, forces Jared’s length deeper into himself.“Oh gosh.” Jared sighs with pleasure, “Oh, Richard.” He spreads his fingers over Richard’s slender chest and draws him closer.Sometimes, he thinks Jared has to plan it. A few droplets of coffee on his hoodie at the bookstore, a quick trip to the bathroom to dab at it. Jared pulls back for another thrust and Richard hardly minds.

for the i love you writing prompts: 32 with jarrich?

#32, in a way I can’t return

This is also sort of for @itsevidentvery who requested “on a post-it note.”

–

Richard isnʼt sure what Jared means when Jared says, “I love you.” He throws those words around - slapdash, haphazard - like they mean almost nothing at all.

Today Richard finds them scribbled on a post-it, tucked into his carefully-packed lunch bag. And again, this evening, printed neatly in the corner of his whiteboard. Jared’s handwriting, of course. Who else’s?

“Good work today, Richard,” Jared says, lingering too long - the way he always does - in his office doorway. “You’re really getting the hang of motivating this new team of yours. I love you.”

Richard canʼt say “I love you” back. Not all casual like that. Not the way Jared blurts it out, like itʼs any other polite pleasantry. Jared loves him the way his mother loves him, maybe: despite everything. But the way Richard loves Jared - if that’s what this is - is too big for that. The way Richard loves Jared comes with a need to possess.

Jaredʼs love, Richard thinks, is like a spotlight. He can - and does - swivel it in any direction, and whoever heʼs currently pointing it at is illuminated by the light of, like, a thousand fiery suns. Jared is careless with his light sometimes. Heʼll shine it on anyone. (Even you, a disbelieving voice in Richardʼs head says.) I mean. Right? Itʼs like. Jared fucks a different girl every night.

Richard wants to say “I love you” back, but the way he means it is so much bigger, so much scarier, than the way that Jared does.

So Richardʼs eyes go dead instead. So instead he doesnʼt say anything.

#jarrich #jarrich fic #nsfw

Richard says I love you for the first time in the middle of sex

Ugh this isn’t very good so I apologise. I stewed for daystrying to come up with something half-decent or original, but…

Keep reading

#nsfw #jarrich fic #jarrich

if you're interested i would love to read anything involving jared and pillow talk!!!

Am I interested?! Heck yeah I’m interested. I hope this is alright and that you were okay with it being rather explicit because this is?

–

“Let me,” says Jared. “Sweetheart, let me,” as he rolls Richard onto his stomach, and Richard folds his arms up, and tucks his hot, blushing face between them.

Keep reading

Porny prompt: after a fight/make up sex!

Oh boy, a challenge!!! Thank you. I sort of struggled with this one but I hope that it’s alright.

–

It was supposed to be a good thing, that Jared express his anger. He was supposed to be learning to “tolerate difficult emotions with support.” But if it was such a good thing, Jared wondered, why did it make him feel so miserable?

He’d sequestered himself to the bedroom, alone, away from Richard, where he felt that he belonged. And oh, the terrible shame he felt at having raised his voice to his beloved! Sure that now Richard would leave him, that his anger rendered him unpartnerable. So much worse than whatever it was heʼd been angry about.

Jared wanted to cry. He often did, after high-octane emotional moments, as if holding his feelings was simply impossible; somehow they had to leak out. He turned his Crying Playlist up so that Richard wouldn’t hear him, perched on the edge of the bed, held his face in his hands, and wept.

Silent all these years, sang Tori Amos.

When Jared had cried himself dry, when Jared had cried himself hoarse, when Jared had cried himself weak and limp and wrung-out as a ragdoll, he ventured a peek out the bedroom door—just to check, he thought—not because he would be so presumptuous as to expect he’d still find Richard in the living room. Not because he thought that he deserved that.

To Jaredʼs surprise, Richard was waiting right outside the bedroom.

“Oh! Richard! Apologies. Did I hit you with the door? Oh goodness. I thought surely you would’ve gone by now.”

Richard eyed him strangely, thoughtfully. “Gone? Where?”

“You know.” Jared felt almost ashamed to say it. His voice was small, ragged from crying. “Left me.”

“You - wait, listen, can I come in?”

They sat down on the bed together. Richard put his hand on Jared’s hand.

I wish I had a river I could skate away on, sang Joni Mitchell.

“I hate that you think I’m going to stop loving you,” Richard said. He pouted a little, wounded, and it hurt Jaredʼs heart. “Iʼm not.”

Jared nodded. He didn’t want to doubt or insult Richard, but it was still just so hard to believe.

“Itʼs okay to get mad at me sometimes. I mean, itʼd actually be weirder if you didnʼt.”

And Jared almost laughed. And Richard asked if he could kiss him.

And the songbirds keep singing, Christine McVie sang.

Richardʼs hand on his hand. Richard’s mouth on his mouth, in sloppy, snotty, searching, open-mouthed kisses. Their clothes melted away and Jared felt like he was melting, too, as he sank down into the mattress.

He thought he didn’t have a tear left to cry but suddenly, somehow, Jared was crying. Thick, heavy sobs into his sweet-smelling pillowcases as Richard kissed a path down his spine to his tailbone, like each one of his vertebrae was something Richard treasured.

“Are you - ? Should I stop?”

No, Jared cried, and he begged to be touched, begged to be kissed, begged to be held, begged to be tied up and kept and eaten and opened. He begged to be chastened, forgiven, to be told he was loved, and he begged to be marked, for Richardʼs sharp teeth and stinging palm on him.

Just let me try and I will be good to you, Sarah McLachlan sang.

And Jared got everything he wanted.

#get the smut out prompt: needing to be very, very quiet? you know who

I do know who, and I loved this prompt so so much. I’m so sorry this…isn’t very much of anything. What it is, is Feelings Vomit With A Soupcon of Fingering.

Keep reading

marty-hendricks

choose your fighter

#silicon valley

45, jarrich

‘I missed you’. All right, nonnie, you know what? You maynot have wanted overlong schmoop, butthat is what is coming down the pike atcha. I am sorry. Though also not.

[Jared Dunn]

So the nested dependencies turned out to be a non-issue?

[Richard Hendricks]

Yeah fine now

[Jared Dunn]

That’s wonderful. So I can mark this deliverable ascomplete?

[Richard Hendricks]

When you come back

[Richard Hendricks]

When are you back

[Jared Dunn]

In four days. I’ll come straight in to work from theairport.

[Richard Hendricks]

How are you

Jared considers the message. It’s possible that Richard’sjust asking to be polite, that he knows that it is expected of people in asexual relationship (and Jared still glows at that thought) to be interested inthe other’s day. But also, Jared knows how the vagaries of polite intercourse(in the social sense – their sexual relationship is quite frequently satisfyingly impolite) can tax his Captain. And itis terribly important that Richard not be taxed right now. The platform is atan incredibly delicate juncture. Richard’s beautiful mind is scanning billionsof permutations and combinations for possible errors, cracks, fissures in thesystem.

Not to mention the fact that Jared is currently away at aconference, which means that Richard needs to keep an eye on Dinesh andGilfoyle and at least an occasional thought to the incidental fires(metaphorical and literal) that it is Jared’s privilege to fight for him.

No, better not. He’s just about to type ‘Fine. I’ll let yougo.’ when he sees another message.

[Richard Hendricks]

Jared?

Jared looks at the message and swallows. He doesn’t like toask – to presume. But perhaps, he thinks, he is allowed simply to say.

[Jared Dunn]

I miss you.

[Richard Hendricks]

…

Jared stares at his screen, at the ellipsis that stubbornlyrefuses to resolve itself into words – any words – for the next hour, twohours, three, after which Jared puts his phone away because he has to be on tomorrow. For Pied Piper.

He even manages to sleep. He wills himself to ignore hisphone. He’s another Jared – a Jared who never sought to explain himself, thedeclarative that is as good as a demand – a Jared who never kissed Richard, neverknew the feeling of his skin under his palms, the sweet imploring noises hemakes, how beautifully wrecked he is when he comes. If that’s what it takes.

It works. He’s very good at retracing pathways, it’s what hedoes, pressing together the breadcrumbs of all his past selves and fashioninghimself into the most recent version that was of use.

So when there’s a knock at his hotel room door, and Richard’sstanding outside, he is not altogether prepared.

He is not altogether prepared for Richard’s huge, wide eyes,staring at him like a starving man being shown a feast.

He is not altogether prepared for the way his own body takesover, holding out his arms, or for the strangled sound Richard makes as theycome together.

He is not altogether prepared – having done so well toforget – for the brush of Richard’s curls against him, for the sweetness ofthat thin, constantly-bitten lower lip, for Richard’s trembling hands on hisface, for his wondering, pleading ‘Jared’.He is not altogether prepared – but isaltogether unsurprised – for how importunate his Captain is, clawing at hisass, chasing his cock, fucking himself up and down so feverishly that Jaredfears he’ll hurt himself.

He is not altogether prepared for the prayerful ‘Jared’ withwhich Richard comes.

And he is not altogether prepared for Richard to say, headburied against his chest, ‘So, uh. I missed you too.’

I crave Feelings Kink and I am putting that energy into the world to shake loose the muses of better writer. Yrs in hope, Itsevidentvery