swifty-fox reblogged
the wedding ring stays ON during sex with other people.
i followed fires. a clegan halloween fic (27k)
There is a coyote who follows John Egan through the scrublands of New Mexico. A pale-eyed, pale-furred, washed-out shape against the desert night. Limbs too long and paws dexterous as it lopes just out of sight. Sometimes it stood upright, mouth lolling open wet and pink and full of teeth. Sometimes it is a man too, still furred and broken-limbed but with a maw that could almost form words and hips that narrowed delicately.
It is never human, but sometimes it is a man. -- A spooky oooky ghosty Halloween fic. A larger trigger list will be contained inside!
Wormwood. Clegan noncon fic 4.8k
“Shh,” John soothes, his own words blurring together on the loose glide of whiskey, “ ‘S alright Buck.”
It settles something inside Gale because he does, he does trust John. Implicitly, even, which was hardly something he extended to anyone. His hand relaxes on John’s arm and then there’s lips working wetly over his neck again, a large hand massaging at his nipple like he’s trying to bruise the sensitive flesh. Or maybe John, in his own intoxication, has lost check of his strength.
Gale makes a second noise, mouth falling open as John's stubble scrapes over his Adam's apple, sandpaper rough compared to the silken wet glide of his lips. The teasing nip of his teeth along the edge of Gale’s jaw. “I know what you need, doll,” John murmurs, his own voice blurry with whiskey, “Gale, sweetheart I know what you need.”
Anonymous asked:
Would you be happy to share a little bit of John's head space when he was arrested, unable to reach Gale (not even knowing if he was safe) and then when Curt told him he'd got in touch? LOVEEEEEED this part. Prison tropes are yummy #chapel au
(p.s. I hope he was loyal in jail too!)
ask and ye shall receive (sometimes)
The cops chip his tooth clean off throwing him over the corpse of the Corolla. He watches the white bone bounce away as pain blooms vivid and sharp across his face. Cursing before the sensation truly registers, still processing the sharp crack he cusses out the hands roving over his body, dragging his arms roughly behind his back, cold metal clinching tight around his wrists.
“It was a con. It was my fuckin hand in my pocket! There’s no goddamn weapon if you’d listen to me for just a second you stupid fuckin’ pigs.”
There’s a gun pointed at him. He’s not used to the reversal. His side throbs in phantom memory.
Folded into the back of a cruiser like dirty laundry he leans back uncomfortably on his cuffed hands and runs his tongue over the jagged edge of his tooth again and again, shuddering at the pain of it.
He pictures Gale on a bus to California, staring out the window and playing with his braid until the flyaways outmatched the hair tie. Usually, he was frowning slightly, unless he had a gun in his hand or he was looking at John, and John imagines himself pressing a thumb to the imaginary furrow of Gale’s imaginary brow.
It’s soothing enough as he breathes and watches the cops rip apart the car, scattering his and Gale’s entire life across the roadside.
He shouts, knowing they won’t hear him, “There’s no fucking gun!”
-*~*-
They don't quite rough ride him but a few of the red lights have his chest hitting the front seat for how he can’t catch himself with anything but his already sore face. He cusses them out for it every time.
jump the gun. a modern outlaws au. (Clegan. 15.9k)
happy birthday Bucky Egan
“The hell is your last name?”
He feels his lips curve into something blushing tender, “Cleven.”
The mattress groans, dipping begrudgingly on at the weight of another body.
John crawls his way up Gale’s body, the latter watching him with amusement until John is hovering above him, swaying slightly and still smiling, “Hi Gale Cleven, I’m John Egan and I love you.”
-- Modern day outlaws part two electric boogaloo
swifty-fox reblogged
big fan of characters who have it all under control when theyre put in situations but no idea how to be like a regular guy doing regular stuff when all is said and done.
swifty-fox reblogged
He and Major Egan were the unquestioned leaders of our entire group.
swifty-fox reblogged
beautiful man. more beautiful with dried tears and fresh cum on his face but u cant have everything
swifty-fox reblogged
GALE "BUCK" CLEVEN + hands
for @sansaorgana
two fingers down. a Mota/Bikeriders au (8.5k)
Gale grunts, grips the back of John’s neck, and yanks him around by the curls until he’s satisfied with the angle of their kiss, “I don’t like liars.”
“I’m an honest liar,” John whispers against his lips
“You cheated.” Gale accuses.
“Cheating implies I was playing to win. Throwing the game to lose on purpose is different.” his free hand fumbles at Gale’s belt buckle, the metallic sound of it undoing loud in the alleyway. Gale sucks in a ragged breath.
Anonymous asked:
Love your art. Is there any chance of you adding the pic you did of Clegan from your Little Beasts fic (the one where Gale is wearing glasses) to your Redbubble? Pretty please 🥹
fun fact i actually hate that art so much I cringe whenever it gets a note the proportions are SO off.
but for you anon...
swifty-fox reblogged
AUSTIN BUTLER as GALE 'BUCK' CLEVEN in MASTERS OF THE AIR (2024) part seven
swifty-fox reblogged
MASTERS OF THE AIR + angry buck about to kill a child
requested by @springsteens
swifty-fox reblogged
Cutie gale omg.
meet me at the chapel. a modern outlaw au
There’s bruises ‘round his throat, a split on his lip that keeps weeping droplets of blood for him to lick away now and then. Shoulder wrenched, eyebrow held together by butterfly tape and prayer. When his outlaw arrives Gale steps out from behind the counter and looks at him.
“How old are you,” the man says after a heartbeat.
“Nineteen.”
He can see that sharp jaw working under the mask, head tilting slightly and eyes casting to the ceiling as if doing quick calculations. Gale stands gingerly, his whole body a tender bruise.
“If you won’t take me leave me the gun,” He says.
That seems to sway the other man.
His outlaw nods towards the counter, tosses him that same floral patterned pillowcase “Empty the register, I’ll meet you in the car.”
love song from a dog. ch 1
a kingdom for a kiss sequel (show canon-compliant postwar fic)
He didn’t want to name it, because if he named it then he would have to acknowledge it. And if he acknowledged it he would have to do something about it. That thing continues to follow him around. No, he thinks, if I pet you I will have to take you home with me and give you a name. There’s no room at the foot of my bed.