10 Works by AgentDonegal
Listing Works
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Before he can reach into his pocket for the lighter, Riley leans into his space. John is helpless to do anything but duck automatically as Riley pops up on his toes. There’s no avoiding Riley’s eyes now, not unless he wants to fully commit to cowardice, and it’s not in his nature. The ends of their cigarettes meet at the same time their eyes do. There’s a moment when the spark twinkles, dwindles, seems to consider it, then jumps to light the other.
They breathe in as one. MacTavish pulls away only when Riley does. He deliberately looks away from the way Riley’s mouth curls around the filter of his cig, but everything else seems so much less interesting now.
He knows he’s here to talk about it, is the thing. About last night.
...
Or, John and Riley have unresolved sexual tension. They resolve it.
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Under the Covers, Up Against the Wall by AgentDonegal
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
01 Jul 2024
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It’s early yet when Johnny bats his big blue eyes and announces, “It’s awfy dreich oot there the-day.”
Simon frowns doubtfully at the sun shining in through the windows of their little cottage. They’re on leave but it’s impossible to shake the deep-set routine from their bodies on such short notice so they’re up at the crack of dawn anyways. The sky is pink and orange, soft, and for once rain seems to be nowhere on the horizon.
“Wot’re you on ‘bout?”
“Aye, it’s a day fur coorieing in under the covers, ye ken?”
---They don’t make it to the bedroom.
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There’s something utterly soft in Simon’s eyes when he lifts his hand, cradles the shelf of Johnny’s jaw in his massive palm. Johnny pushes his head into the touch, eyes falling shut, and reaches between them to guide his cock into Simon once more.
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Aka, pure SoapGhost smut.
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"These arms of mine
They are yearning
Yearning from wanting you..."
-Otis Redding, "These Arms of Mine" -
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Soap brings Ghost home for the holidays.
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"Sure as the stars shine above
But this is Christmas, yes, Christmas my dearThe time of year to be with the ones you love
So won't you tell me you'll never more roam
Christmas and new Years will find you home
There'll be no more sorrow no grief and painAnd I'll be happy, happy once again..."
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I know you hear their voices, I know they may seem real by AgentDonegal
Fandoms: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
22 Mar 2021
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Nile looks around at her—family, there’s no other word for it. The not quite uncomfortable silence persists.
“Someone should tell a story,” she suggests eventually, “Isn’t that what you do around a fire? Tell stories?”
“What kind?” Booker says amiably, tossing a twig in the general vicinity of the flames.
Nile shouldn’t do it, not with how she gave herself the jitters earlier. Maybe that’s exactly why she says, immediately and unbidden, “Something scary.”
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I beg your pardon
I never promised you a rose garden
- Rose Garden, Louis PrimaDon’t forget me, I beg
I remember you said
Sometimes it lasts in love
But sometimes it hurts instead
- Someone Like You, AdeleWritten for this kink prompt.
Please read notes for warnings on each section. Thanks!
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Five times (+1) someone mistakes Nicky for a mouse. Five times (+1) they're proven wrong.
Chapter 1: Sebastien's mistake; Northern California goldfields, 1849
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You love when I fall apart (fall apart) by AgentDonegal
Fandoms: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
07 Sep 2020
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Nicky reaches up, sliding his hand over Joe’s where he’s white-knuckled digging into the sheets. He manages after a moment to persuade stiff fingers to uncurl and grins at the shake in them before they intertwine solidly, pressed palm-to-palm.
Aka the fic where Nicky eats Joe out like a champ, like he deserves.
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On the day it happens, Joe wakes the same as he’s done well over three hundred thirty thousand times before. Nose pressed to the soft, sleep-warm skin of Nicky’s nape, arm slung adoringly over his waist. It gives him the option of pressing the flat of his palm to a steady heartbeat or to intertwine their fingers and, oh, the sweet anguish of decision.
Joe smiles, nuzzles Nicky’s neck, snuffling through his grown-out locks. Ducks his head to Nicky’s shoulder blade. He presses his lips chastely to his flesh, not so much a kiss as a smile pressed into his smooth skin.
There is a bruise on Nicky’s shoulder.
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And so it is that Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicolò di Genova die during the what will become known as the First Crusade, in the year 1099, somewhere between Antioch and Jerusalem.
It doesn’t stick.
By Nicolò’s estimate, he’s now killed one man twenty-seven times--and been killed by the same, thirty. He wonders what his name is.
Continues to wonder even he’s throttled lifeless in a puddle of mud (oh, how he hopes it’s mud. This front, many miles from the first field they expired on, has so many horses).