Rec: Time After Time by muppetmanda @livjournal.com
Title: Time After Time
Pairing: Myka/HG (Wells & Bering, Bering & Wells)
Rating: NC-17 (sexy times ensue…)
Warnings: body swap, a little violence (nothing worse than you’d see on the actual show)
Spoilers: Everything through season 3 is fair game, so read at your own risk if you haven’t seen the season finale.
Feedback: adored here, or at email@example.com
Webgeekist wrote Bering & Wells Robin Hood (a prequel anyway)
So I had a lovely anon suggest this
And then Kayryn manipped it (have I mentioned I fucking love this fandom)
And then Webgeekist went and ficced it, and for reasons I DO NOT UNDERSTAND, put the damn thing in my submit box so I might have er, tweaked a few things I’M SORRY. So without further ado…
Bering & Wells: The one where they are Robin and Marian
PG (for now)
Disclaimer: I have no idea if this will get continued (though that would be AWESOME. HINT HINT WEB) but for now this is just sort of the prequel.
request from llaurorall. hope I hit the mark.
and this is it, folks. I need a break from writing and, in particular, from smut-writing.
If she were a painter, now would be the time to drag out the brushes and use hundreds of liquid hues to capture this moment; if she were much of a writer anymore, now would be the hour to put pen to paper and try to recreate this breathless second with mere words.
‘friday night sketch’
It was called a study in light and dark, in cross-hatching for effect, in capturing emotion without seeing the face. And so, if you were someone outside looking in, you could make up your own version of reality: she is awake too early on a winter morning, she is staring at a lover still sleeping, she is lost and alone in a room she does not know…
And Myka wonders if any of these potential worlds are at all close to the truth.
Matched (complete story)
Thanks to kleptosrbetterlovers, who stepped in to give this story the smut it deserved when I failed to perform under pressure. The really hot part? It was all her.
Written for AU Week, updated and completed for Pornathon. The first part will look familiar, but the rest…
Happy New Year!
“It’s no accident, I think, that tennis uses the language of life. Advantage, service, fault, break, love, the basic elements of tennis are those of everyday existence, because every match is a life in miniature.” - Andre Agassi
She likes the smaller matches.
So many athletes enjoy the roar, the fervor…the pressure. She is as good as any of them and better than most. Pressure doesn’t affect her that much, and so unlike many of her peers, she is able to manage it in a match.
There isn’t much pressure involved in an exhibition like this against barely-graduated former-varsity college students. They are always really, really good, but so young. Too young. They taste newfound glory on the heels of a national championship, and step onto the courts with all the arrogance of a newly-minted Midas. They make stupid mistakes at the net, chase after volleys they should let go.
She can’t remember being that stupid after she graduated from Colorado. Maybe it’s a west coast thing.
She returns a wild volley to the back corner of the court, on the dead-opposite side from which it had come, and ends the match against a promising but hot-headed Stanford product with a score that would never let you believe that poor girl had just finished winning the NCAA singles crown.
She likes the smaller matches, but so often misses the challenge presented by the larger ones. But she dislikes all matches these days for the same reasons — everyone seeks glory, and fortune, and fame, and in the roar of the crowd at the US Open or Wimbledon, the spirit of the game is so often lost among the sea of inflated egos.
She walks to the net to shake her young competitor’s hand, and smirks a bit at the sour look on the young blonde’s face.
Maybe she is too cynical.
Maybe it is time to retire.
The one where Myka is an FBI agent and Helena is an actress, part 3
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I apologize in advance.
“We shouldn’t do this, Helena.”
“Of course we should, darling.”
“No…no, this was a mistake. This was wrong.”
“What makes this such a mistake? You are attracted to me, and I to you—“
“But that doesn’t matter! I’m here to do a job!”
Myka Bering sat up in the king-size bed, soft sheets and a warm comforter pooled around her waist, head in her hands. She was horrified — that her control could be allowed to lapse so completely, that she didn’t have the good sense to walk away before things got too intense…
“Oh, you did your job quite thoroughly last night…”