#I am in a constant state of motion so of course I’m also in a constant state of “see food and eat it”

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Me, scooping myself the most ginormous amount of Neapolitan ice cream you’ve ever seen: “Mmm protein.”

[denwritesandcries]

Hug me Tighter – S.C

Pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: You’re only trying to make your girlfriend take a nap with you, the fact that it’s in a hospital bed after one of the worst nights of your lives doesn't really matter.

Word count: 1,8k.

Content: post-scream VI, cursing, tooth-pudding fluff, mentions of violence, cuddling, pet names, long dialogues, REALLY soft gfs.

Note: Damn, this might be the sweetest and cheesy thing I’ve ever written. Could also be an AU, since Anika is alive, or just Scream, if they could actually be happy.

English is not my first language.

You realized that you were waking up at a terribly slow pace, as if everything was suddenly in slow motion and even the smallest movement took hours to run and every second was longer than the previous one. Your body feels heavy and comfortably warm, resting on perhaps the best bed in which you've ever slept. You blinked slowly, failing to keep your eyes open, every movement of your eyelids almost making you fall into unconsciousness again.

Your body shudders with the feeling of a long yawn crossing you and you turn your head to bury your face back in the location and go to sleep again, only to be surprised when you come across hot skin instead of what your brain thought was a really soft pillow. It is only then that you register a movement against your back, light and constant, almost as smooth as your own sleepy state, climbing and descending your spine and enveloping you even more in this security bubble almost supernaturally.

Another weight lies between your neck and your head, right at the point of your wrist and there's another heavier resting on the top of your head, although you're sure of the mess your hair should be right now. Your hands grope and instinctively grab a handful of familiar fabric beneath you, feeling the texture of a sweater you knew very well.

“Sam,” your hoarse voice breaks the silence.

You were tempted to let the darkness and the inviting fog of sleep consume you again as you relaxed and held another yawn, but your resting place vibrated with a low laugh.

“‘M sorry, baby. Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” you denied with a satisfied sigh, sinking against her body.

The chin on your head pulled away and the hand on your back stopped and you immediately missed the contact, finally opening your eyes and lifting your head to protest.

“You're feeling better?”

Sam's question catches you off guard and you pause, staring into your girlfriend's soft brown eyes and raised eyebrow with confusion. Frowning, you finally decide to take a look at the place you are in and come across a messy white room with machines nearby. A hospital room.

The events of the last few hours come back to you in a quick, jumbled flash. The confrontation with the Ghostfaces, the deaths, the police, the ambulance... and the surgery, because of course in addition to all the terror and threats of the last few days you also ended up being stabbed.

Well, that explains why you feel so sluggish then. You're high on drugs. That is, if the IV prick in your arm is any indication.

The hand on the back of your neck moves up towards your face, fingers tracing the contour of your chin and jaw, thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek, your body relaxes and you lean into her touch, sighing all too contentedly at the affection. The memory of waking up a lot more groggy before and convincing Sam to lay down too when you found her sitting next to the hospital bed holding your hand tightly slowly returning to your hazy mind. She was a little hesitant at first, but it wasn't that difficult to convince her to hold you with the excuse that it would only be for a few minutes. You bet it must have been a few hours already.

“Hm,” you murmured absently, stretching against her, “I’m definitely feeling much better now.”

“That's good,” your girlfriend huffed softly, “I can't feel my legs in this position anymore.”

That caught your attention.

“Am I too heavy?” You ask, lifting your head to examine her for any bruises from the previous fight, “I can move if it’s hurting you.”

“No,” She squeezes you tighter quickly, “I’m good here.”

Sam's own eyes were half-lidded, almost closing over the last few minutes you were asleep, but she refused to give in to the urge to doze off too. It would have been such a waste when she could just hug you and breathe properly for the first time since the last few hellish weeks you've all had.

The TV on the wall had long since been muted, with the image of some random animal documentary flickering in the background. Sam's head rested against the pillows and your body lay happily spread over hers – and she looked perfectly satisfied for someone who had complained and complained about your puppy dog ​​eyes before.

Somewhere between convincing Sam to lie down and pretending to pay attention to the screen, you ended up falling asleep, one of your arms hanging lazily over the side of the bed. Sam realized this instantly, feeling your weight finally relax on her. It made her relax too. Not completely. Sam was never completely relaxed, no matter how tired she was, not anymore, especially not after a night like that. But she managed to feel good enough to enjoy the moment.

The environment was as welcoming as any hospital could be, but her embrace brought a sense of security that lulled you perfectly to sleep and the knowledge that everyone was okay and in the next room allowed Sam to let her guard down. Yet falling asleep and losing that, the feeling that nothing could happen as long as she held you tight and ran her fingers over your warm skin, seeing and hearing every sleepy sound and movement you made – from a tired sigh as you fit, to one of your hands founding the collar of her sweater and grabbing it, holding her close – it would be a waste.

“You sure?” You hesitate, searching her eyes for any hint of hidden discomfort.

Sam sighs, nodding: “You wouldn’t believe how comfortable I am right now.”

“Okay then,” you rest your ear on her chest, feeling her head nod and her heart bumping, still a little high. A yawn crosses your lips, “But let me know if you need me to move.”

She hums in response and you fall into a comfortable silence for a while, the sound of machines running and your soft breaths in the same rhythm left you trying your hardest not to fall asleep again until you felt your girlfriend's chest vibrate beneath you again in a barely contained laugh.

“You’re cute when you’re tired.”

“Huh?” you muttered, lifting your drooping head and finally refocusing your vision on her.

“I should probably get up now, let you get some rest.” Sam said, reluctantly removing her arms from you so she could move away.

You shook your head, grabbing one of her hands and letting them fall to the side of the bed, swinging freely in the air.

“No, I’m good here.” You echoed, denying nonchalantly. You let your head find a place on her neck, making her lie back against the pillows.

Sam sighed against you slowly, much more out of satisfaction – and relief – than annoyance at your insistence, returning to the task of running her fingers down your back until you spoke again.

“Where’s Tara?” You ask, voice muffled by the face buried in her neck, “And the twins?”

“They're watching Anika.” She responds and you get alarmed, before Sam reassures you, “She's gonna be alright, she just needs to stay in the hospital for a while longer. And also a lot of rest. Like you, by the way.”

“I am resting.”

If Sam hadn't been fighting sleep for over an hour now, she would have a wide, stupid grin plastered on her face at the sound of your indignant mumble. Since that wasn't the case, she contented herself with a small smile.

“Whatever you say, amor.”

She surrenders, completely this time, without any more false attempts to leave. Sam felt as if you were the one rocking her and not the other way around, as if nothing else could touch her, even for a little while. There were no worries about horrible jobs, breakdowns in therapy, pressure with college exams and much less paranoia about the existence of cinematic serial killers. Nothing else could exist in your – literal – white room. Just the two of you in that small bed.

Each synchronized breath of your chest next to hers pressed her own ribs, the delicate breath sending delicious shivers down her spine and making her completely aware of how close your bodies were and shocking her at how it still didn't feel close enough.

“I love you,” she says. Rasped, you barely hear it. “I love you so freaking much that sometimes I just want to drown into your chest and curl up between your ribs, with your heart.” She takes a breath, then pauses, hesitantly: “...Is that too weird?”

“...Well,” you gasp, heart completely racing against your ears, “No weirder than what we already go through on a daily basis, I guess.”

Sam groaned at your response, feeling like a lovesick teenager in one of the movies Tara and Mindy love to make fun of. Rambling poetically about her passion.

But, screw it, that's exactly what she is, right? Sam thought. Let her have it. She deserves it.

(Her therapist would definitely pat her on the back for that thought.)

Unlike what Sam thought she should feel with the realization of that thought, her heart didn't skip a beat uncomfortably, her hands didn't get sweaty and cold with the doubt of how to deal with this. It kept pounding in that same slow, steady, familiar rhythm, with one of the most precious and loved people of her life completely aware of how she felt.

“I feel like drowning into your chest all the time too.”

Her favorite place in the world was anywhere you were together and it was physically impossible to be closer than that at the moment, although she wouldn't give up trying.

It was pure and simple happiness. Warmth and security that captured her stomach and left it churning with what felt like a million bubbles popping simultaneously.

When you first came to her life and Sam realized being falling for you, she thought her love would swallow her. That it would be something she would keep to herself until it exploded. You seemed to have made it your mission to prove her otherwise.

“I didn’t say ‘all the time’ tho.”

Here you were, together and fine.

“Oh, shut up.”

Your grip on Sam's hand tightened in very bad feigned irritation and when you rose quickly to give her a kiss, your girlfriend burst into laughter and your lips hit her strong jaw instead.

“That tickles, baby.”

“I was shooting for your lips, but you moved.” You simply shrugged, leaning into her again and this time she met you on the way, a stupid smile growing between you and breaking the kiss too soon. You lay back down and Sam took a long breath, leaving one last kiss on your forehead.

This time, when her head feels heavy and droops from sleep, Sam does nothing to stop it, letting the feeling finally consume her.

Nothing, not even in her most vivid fantasies, had ever been so perfect.

And if by chance Tara ends up sending Sam a photo of the two of you napping the next day when everyone is getting ready to go home and it becomes the new wallpaper on her phone, well… that's nobody's business.

[vrisrezis]

Comfort with atsv characters <3

Warnings?: reader is Latino/Latina, reader is a spider person, can you tell I wrote this at like 2 AM? (Spoilers for atsv). Is it obvious I don’t read the comics based off of hobie and pav? Also all the spiders are able to understand Spanish so 👍🏾 reader is hinted to be bisexual in Peter B’s (they also cannot have children), reader isn’t gendered but in Jessica’s they certainly are not a male,

Gwen is quiet, but you allow it. Miguel didn’t tell you much of what happened in Gwen’s dimension, but it clearly bothered her, whatever it was. It was just one of those very nights where she was bothered about her situation. She didn’t ever talk about it, rather she just sat in silence for awhile and then you’d make her some tea in hopes of easing any nerves or pain. She felt bad crashing at your place all the time like this, so much so she tried bothering hobie every once in awhile so that her staying at your home wasn’t as constant. You tried to remind her that this is what partners do, they look out for eachother when they need it the most. Staying at eachothers places when one of them is pretty much homeless is included in that.

Honestly though? Selfishly she enjoyed it. Maybe it was because she simply enjoyed your company, or because you were sweet enough to let her share a bed with you and she got to watch you sleep. She got to see all your features up close in your most peaceful moments. But of course, she missed her home. She missed her dad. She missed when things didn’t suck. She missed Peter too.

You’re both on the roof of your house. She’s thinking about things, deeply. She thinks about her life, her place in the world, She almost starts to cry, but she’s still holding back, holding back as much as she possibly can right now. It’s the first time you see her like this, and you feel relieved. You’re relieved because you know she’s been going through so much, but has been trying so hard to keep it inside.

“Mi amor, por favor, no reprimas tus sentimientos. Está bien llorar, somos tú y yo.” you say, putting your hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Not wanting to be too intimate in case she became uncomfortable in such a state. But you don’t have to worry as she grabs the hand on her shoulder and intertwines your fingers.

She finally allows her tears to flow. More then flow, they stream down like a ocean of tears. In the midst of it, she hugs you and you hug her back. Pulling her into your chest and she can’t help but feel safe in your arms.

“I’m so sorry.” she says in between sobs

“Don’t be. Te Amo. I will always be here for you, yknow? No need to hold back for me.”

Miles puts his head on your shoulder. He’s quiet, and unsure what he should say next. But you don’t say anything, and you decide he should be the one to speak first. He wraps his arms around your middle, and you change positions so his cheek is smushed on your chest now, your arms wrap around his waist. You could fall asleep like this, but you’re determined to stay up until miles tells you what’s on his mind. Even if you already know, he should let it out and talk about it. He always ends up telling you what’s bothering him, he’s practically an open book. At least in your mind, though you do suppose he is good at keeping secrets from others. Not the point though, you were there when it all transpired. You know what he’s upset about.

“How are we gonna get home?” miles finally asks, confirming your suspicions. He truly had no idea what he was doing, and what either of you were going to do. You’re both stuck in the wrong dimension with no way to get home. “How am I gonna save my dad?” he wonders aloud. You’re not sure yourself, you opt for one of your hands reaching for his back and rubbing his back in a circular motion as a means to comfort him.

“I don’t know.” you admit, but you continue before he could say anything, “but what I do know, is that you can do anything. Even the impossible. Eres el hombre más increíble que conozco. You’ll figure it out.”

miles shakily sighs, “I don’t know.” he says, so unsure of himself. “You don’t have to.” you say, “give yourself a moment. Recollect yourself. Cry if you need. Te protegeré.”

He truly doesn’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for him, continue to do for him. The support and love you’ve always given him, the advice you’ve given him, he knows there’s truly nobody quite like you.

There’s a moment of silence between you and hobie. While this wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence when the two of you just chilling out, this time felt very different. Instead of a rather calm and tired expression at this time of night he seemed so defeated, though that tiredness seemed more like exhaustion. And you come to the conclusion a canon event had to have happened for him to wear such a sad expression. It was only recently he had taken upon the role as spiderman in his dimension, or as everyone called him, spiderpunk. You know the whole spider thing is new to him, how stressful it can be to be on your own like this. You’ve been there too, and not that long ago. In your dimension you’ve only been a spider person for a couple months.

You stand up from your place on the couch, walking up to him. You want to feign surprise, not knowing what’s happening. But you know. And you know that he knows, as he always does. Spider people typically aren’t good at lying. “You know, dontcha.” he simple says, voice rather quiet for somebody like him. “Yeah.” you eventually say, “it happens to all of us.” you admit. “For Miguel it was his wife, his daughter. For Peter it was his uncle. For me it was my mother. This is just.. part of the course.” you say, as if it’s just something to shrug off. Hobie can’t help but feel sick to his stomach upon you doing that, cause it doesn’t feel like the you he knows. The you he knows wouldn’t stand for some… cycle, some faux destiny. It’s not like you to just give up and treat something like this as just… it.

But he’s too upset to press you about it, so he rests his forehead on your shoulder and no longer says any words. You wrap your arms around him in an embrace and he allows it. “I know you probably have a lot of questions.” you say, and he’s always taken aback at how you’re the only person he’s ever met that can read him like a book. Then again, spider people are not good liars.

“For now, what I’ll tell you is this.” you start, “you’re going to lose people. It’s going to happen if you continue this line of work. The hard lesson to learn about this job is that we can’t save everyone. At least, not alone.” you continue, “but together, we can.” you say, and upon these words he feels a bit more relieved that you hadn’t fallen down some algorithm. You haven’t given up nor are you falling in line with some dumbass rules Miguel has set up.

“I can’t exactly provide you the best advice.” you admit, “pero siempre estaré aquí apoyándote. Puedes contar con ello.” you say, and hobie smiles for the first time that day.

Pavitr has never been like this, but it’s to be expected. At least, in your mind.

He clutches you like a lifeline, and if it weren’t for your super amazing spider strength you think you’d be in a ton of pain right now with the way pav is holding onto you.

You’re not even the one that nearly died. Pav nearly lost his best friend, gayatri as well as her father who also seemed to mean a lot to him. You don’t know much about him and singhs relationship, but you know it’s rather complex. Pretty hard on Pav and his friendship with his daughter, assuming they have a romantic relationship or something along the line. But this very man seems to adore Spider-Man. So naturally, complicated. But didn’t change the fact he meant a lot to Pavitr. He almost lost him. He almost lost two important people in his life. And if he almost lost them, could he have lost you?

He tries to reason with himself, you’re strong and can handle yourself fine but what if…?

“¡Basta!” you say, and it’s the first time he’s ever heard you yell at him. Because of this it’s quick to snap him out of the daze he seemed to be in. He can’t help but let a few tears slip out. You put your hands on his cheeks, worry seeping through your eyes. “Odio cuando haces eso. No me va a pasar nada, cariño. Puedo protegerme así que no te atrevas a preocuparte por mí.”

You wipe away his tears with your thumbs. “Mi amor, we’re gonna be okay.”

Peter sighs, and from that moment you know somethings wrong. You’ve known this Peter in particular a long time, there’s something obviously weighing on him. It certainly helps you’ve gotten to know so many versions of him, so many peters and so many of them are horrible liars. He is no exception.

You can’t help but wonder if it’s MJ related, which tugs are your heartstrings a bit. But you understand him, he lost his love. His first love in fact, and he’s not willing to let her go. You understand. You remember your first love, Gwen. Just a pretty blonde in your science class, but you fell hard. And so did she. To her death, that is.

You sit next to him on the balcony, “wanna talk about it?” you offer, and he can’t help the sigh that escapes him. “I don’t know.” he admits, but as soon as he says that he feels himself leaning on you.

“Have you ever thought of becoming a parent?” he asks, and you can’t help but be surprised by his question.

Now it’s your turn to sigh. “Yeah, I suppose.” you shrug, “not that I’d be able to have one, but yeah.”

“Really?” he wonders, and you nod. “Both me and Gwen, at least in my dimension, were physically unable to have kids. The same went for me and my own Peter.” you shrug, “not that I was interested at the time though. It’s moreso a ‘what if I could’ situation.”

“I want a kid.” he admits.

“So did MJ, and she still wants a kid.”

You feel your heart sink for a moment, before deciding it was his time of need, not yours. You’re both far too old for shit like this. You’ll move on. Like you always do.

“I could give her what she wants.” he continues.

“But I don’t know if… I can? I guess?”

“What do you mean?” You inquire.

“It’s a lot of things. I mean, what if I’m a bad dad? What if I’m not there enough? And besides that point, even if I do go through with this, the kid would have to deal with having parents that aren’t even together.”

It takes a minute for you to process his words, especially the last part. “Wait… why wouldn’t you two be together?” he shrugs, “because she deserves better.” he says, but it doesn’t seem like the full truth. “And besides I wanna be with somebody else.”

He tries to be subtle with his next words, “they can’t have kids, so I think this is a next best option. At least, when I’m ready and they’re ready and we’ve been dating long enough where it wouldn’t be weird to ask.”

You can’t help but wonder if it’s you he’s talking about.

But for the time being, you ignore it and put an arm around his shoulder, “Pues deja de preocuparte. Serías un gran padre.”

he cracks a smile and thanks you.

Jessica is always well put together, it’s something you’ve always known about her. But there’s something off about her.

You think you know what’s up, but you know better than to think you know everything going on with Jess. She’s not exactly an open book, only is when she wants to be.

She kept a lot of her personal life away from you, as a means to protect you from that. Either that or she wanted her privacy, which you also understood.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to touch her stomach, admire it, the excitement of a new life was adorable in your eyes. But her relationship with her husband was something she never relayed to you, she never talked about him and if she ever did it was briefly. A part of you wondered if it was because she knew how you felt and wanted to spare you. A part of you hoped that was all it was, and that there was nothing else going on.

But you’d be wrong, as you often were.

She lets a few tears shed, and it’s the first time you’ve seen her cry.

“I don’t think I love him anymore.” she finally admits, and you have a feeling it’s the first time she’s admitted this to anyone, even herself.

“I don’t think I ever did.”

“I don’t even think I like men, period.”

And this puts you into a even bigger state of shock, woah.

“I think I just wanted a baby.” she continues, “and it didn’t matter who it was with as long as I got one.”

“I thought, it was because I loved him so much I wanted to start a family but…” she turns her head away from you, “I don’t think I ever felt a damn thing for him and I’m scared and I feel so guilty.”

All you can do is wrap a comforting arm around her,

“No pasa nada. Siempre estaré aquí Jessica, lo sabes. Podemos resolver las cosas juntos.”

she leans into you despite her mind telling her to pull away, don’t be soft, don’t give in.

But she does.

She gives in to her deepest desire.

She gives into you.

Miguel is never this clingy. Something is wrong, and you feel it. It’s not just his aura, it’s his body language. It’s the fact that his face is shoved into your stomach, desperate for you to not only not hear him at all, but not see him. You feel his sorrow, his shame, his guilt, his anguish. But most of all you feel his regret and his grief and you automatically know what’s wrong.

You run your fingers through his hair, something he normally hated but in times like these truly loved more than anything and it calmed him down so quickly. He still doesn’t know how you do it, honestly. You make him putty in his hands without even trying and honestly that terrified him. To be so weak, so soft, when it comes to you.

“Vamos, cariño.” you say, “let me see you.”

He’s not quick to comply, but he eventually does with enough head scratching. You sigh at how distraught he looks. You hate this, you really do. You hate seeing him upset, that one injury of yours could send him spiraling like this.

“No voy a morir tan fácilmente, sabes. Ten un poco de fe en mí, ¿quieres?”

“Lo sé.” he replies, shakily.

“I’m just scared of losing you too.”

You kiss the crown of his head, “I know. But trust me when I say a little injury is not going to kill me. I’ll be okay.” you try to reassure him.

He nods, but you have a feeling he doesn’t believe you.

Even after all these years, you don’t know how to help him.

[hext00ns]

Identity (Originally written for Follow Your Rainbow @fyr-zine an LGBT+ Sonic Zine)

AO3 link in comments

Ships: Shadow the Hedgehog/Sonic the Hedgehog/Sally Acorn/Amy Rose

Rating: T

Warnings: N/A

Description: When Shadow is dragged to Pride by his significant others he begins to question his identity.

The warm summer air seeped through the cracks and corners of the house, only cut some by the fervious efforts of the air conditioner that was working double time the past few days. Though, Shadow didn’t particularly mind- or even really notice- the scorching heat. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his blue counterpart, he doubted he would have thought to turn on the air conditioning in the first place.

However, that same counterpart was currently being a Grade A nuisance. Sonic had been bothering him all morning. He’d been attempting to convince Shadow to leave his work and go with him and the others to some block party happening at the time. Shadow momentarily wondered if he were to turn off the air conditioner would the blue blur leave to escape the heat. Unfortunately, he doubted it. Sonic had always been a most hard headed individual.

“It’ll be fun!” Sonic had said that about three or four times now.

“I have work to do,” was Shadow’s instantaneous response, which had also been stated at least three or four times.

Sonic let out a groan and fell to his back against the table. “It’s paperwork!” he cried out, throwing his arms to the air above him in exasperation. “Can’t you do it any other day?”

“It’s best to get stuff done when you can and not put it off,” Shadow hissed out back, giving Sonic a pointed look. “Even so, I don’t see why you’re so insistent that I come with you. Can’t you take the girls?”

Sonic rolled to his side, pushing around some of the papers to the side and causing Shadow to give a sound of annoyance. “I am! Or- trying to.”

Shadow gave a raised brow.

Finally sitting up, yet still on the desk, Sonic moved to explain: “It was Amy and my idea! But we wanted you ‘n Sal to come with. So I was tasked with convincing you and Amy went to grab Sal!” Sonic smiled proudly and shoved his thumb to his chest. As if convincing Shadow to go with their cluster to a party was a noble quest he’d been sent on. Shadow felt more as though it were his own personal purgatory.

Shadow had never been the kind for large groups of people. He liked solo missions and small meetups. He wasn’t big on large get togethers and definitely not parties. Especially not parties that took out almost all of City Square to host in its area.

As it were, however, it always seemed that if anyone could get Shadow into large groups it would be the very hero that sat with him now. Sonic dragged him around like an antisocial dog on occasion; assuring others that he didn’t bite and was safe to pet. It baffled him how insistent Sonic was on such things. He tended to notice a similar phenomenon happening to Knuckles as well. Only made more curious by the fact that Shadow knew Sonic could be just as independent as himself. The blue blur was just as weighed down by a need to be the lone wolf as Shadow, or even Knuckles tended to be. Sonic had always been strange in those regards, as he still seemed to have a near constant gaggle of allies and friends at his side on the regular.

“You know I’m not one to go to these sorts of things,” Shadow finally sighed, crossing his arms and looking up to the other. “Why are you so adamant about me going along?”

Sonic’s legs began to swing as his upper body rocked slightly along with the motion. “It’s not just any party. It’s Pride! Don’t you know anything about that?”

“Of course I do,” Shadow huffed out. “I’ve never been but I see no reason to. I understand it’s a celebration and I get why others would be interested. What I don’t see is why I should care.”

“Well, you’re gay for starters.”

Shadow gave Sonic an unimpressed look. “Your evidence isn’t very compelling.”

Sonic gave a dramatic sound of frustration. “It’s-” he lifted his hands but paused as his words started to trip over themselves. He took a short moment to reorganize whatever was sitting in his head. Shadow waited patiently for the other to clear up his thoughts. Finally, he started again, his hands waving along with his words. “It’s more than just a celebration! It is. But it’s also a big part of our history, you know? Also it’ll be fun. People go to this kinda stuff with their friends and partners all the time.”

Shadow’s frown stayed but did begin to soften some. It was clear this was important to Sonic; if not also Amy, Shadow was willing to guess. He understood the history. He understood, to at least some extent, its importance. That didn’t change his stance on wanting to go or not.

“Plus,” Sonic started up again, “it’ll be the first one since we all got together.”

Shadow looked at the other. He had a sincere, if not somewhat nervous smile. Shadow now understood the real importance such an occasion had to Sonic and Amy. It had been just a little under a year since the four of them had really figured out what they were and how the relationship would work. And where there were still some stumbles here and there, Shadow couldn’t lie and say the change in his life hadn’t brought something that made his days feel just a little brighter.

Finally, Shadow gave a sigh. He ran a hand over his face and rubbed at the side of his cheek. “Fine,” he groaned out.

Sonic straightened up and looked at him surprised. “Wait- really?”

“Yes. Really.”

Sonic jumped up from the desk, the sudden motion throwing some of the papers into the air. He let out a cheer of success and suddenly had his arms around Shadow, pressing an over dramatic kiss to his cheek.

Surely, it couldn’t be that bad.

It was that bad.

After just barely an hour, Shadow felt like any energy that would normally give his body the motivation to move had suddenly been zapped from him. Leaving him empty and lethargic. There was just so much happening all at once. He hadn’t had much time to really work himself up to going in the first place, having agreed because of his partners’ own interests in coming to such a large gathering.

He could hardly focus as they walked from point to point. He felt stiff and every ability to see or hear blurred into one large mass of sound and movements. His mind both on red alert and foggy all at once. It wasn't till a hand fell to his arm that he snapped out of the fog and faced worried pink fur.

“Are you okay, Shadow?” Amy questioned, her thumb gently running against the fur of his arm. He didn’t know if the motion was comforting or overwhelming.

“I…” his words fell away from him. Sally and Sonic were also both now looking at him with a matching concern. He tried to shift through the pros and cons of lying and saying he was alright, while also forcing the feeling of drowning out of his throat.

Before he could respond, Amy’s hand was gently taken from his shoulder. Sonic, now holding her wrist, spun her around with a smile and quickly to Sally’s side. Both giving Shadow much needed space, while also pulling a giggle from the pink hedgehog.

“Me ‘n’ Shads are gonna go take a breather,” Sonic explained, stepping to Shadow’s side but still giving the hybrid his space. “Things are gettin’ a little ‘a lot’, if ya’ catch me.” The blue blur gave the two a wink and a finger pistol. “We’ll catch up with you two in twenty.”

Amy looked like she wanted to object or ask to help. However, Sally stepped in and locked their arms.

“Alright,” Sally replied. “I’ll take Amy to get something sweet then.” She looked to Amy to see the pink hedgehog brighten at the promise of a treat before giving Sonic an understanding nod.

As the girls took their leave, Shadow could just make out Amy chanting “cake! Cake! Cake!” and Sally only chuckling in response.

His attention was brought back to Sonic when the other bumped him with an elbow. Sonic motioned his head to signal Shadow to follow him. Needing no other word, the two ran off and out of the crowds.

Sonic had led Shadow up to a rooftop. They sat in a comfortable silence and looked out over the festivities.

“We don’t have to stay the whole time,” Sonic finally said after a good while.

Shadow looked over to him, only to receive a smile in return. “We’ve barely been here an hour,” Shadow responded, looking away again.

“Yeah and you already look like you’re ‘boutta kick it,” Sonic chuckled. “Crowds can suck. I get it; and the girls will too. I’m happy you were willing to try and come at all, honestly.” Sonic gave a shrug at his admission.

“The crowds are bad but…” Shadow’s lips thinned as he tried to find where that thought was heading.

“But?” Sonic encouraged.

Shadow sighed. “I don’t think it helps that I feel out of place.”

“‘Out of place’?”Sonic raised an eye ridge in question, his ears flopping in a way that animatedly matched his features. “Wudda ya mean by that?”

Shadow looked to him again. “I always feel stuck out in a crowd. Even then, this gathering is for your community.” Shadow’s eyes fell to the roof below, frowning. “I don’t know how much I really belong in it.”

There was a pause of silence. The longer it was pulled out the more Shadow could feel the spines and fur on his back begin to stand on end. Finally, he gave in and looked up at the other.

Sonic was only looking at him. Eyes open with confusion, as if he were trying to figure something out. “You… don’t think you belong?”

Shadow, where already not the tallest of their group, somehow felt worlds smaller under Sonic’s gaze. As if he had just admitted to some grave injustice or unforgivable transgression. Not that he truly believed there was much he could do that the blue blur specifically wouldn’t gladly try to pull him back from. But this wasn’t any of this. This was Shadow feeling, in some manner of speaking, insecure and overwhelmed. Why he would ever feel wrong or bad for being honest with Sonic, with any of them, was beyond him. It was downright ridiculous when he thought about it. He could almost laugh. But he didn’t laugh. Instead, Shadow only nodded to confirm Sonic’s implied inquiry.

“We’ll, you’re definitely not straight,” Sonic said with ease.

Shadow looked to him with a confused frustration. “How can you possibly know that? I don’t even know if I’m sure of that.”

“I mean, you’re dating me and Sal- and she’s only a girl in the same way a sword is.”

Shadow looked to him as he gave an easy shrug. As if it was all so simple and conclusive. But to Shadow it didn’t feel that way at all. In fact, he found himself avoiding the mental subject, as he only felt lost at the concepts.

“Look man,” Sonic started up again. “You don’t gotta know all this stuff right away.”

Shadow looked back out to the crowd below them. His eyes zeroed in on Sally and Amy. Both of them had stopped at a small stand with flags of different variety. After a moment Sally pointed off somewhere and then walked to leave.

Sonic must have followed his gaze as after Sally left he knocked his elbow against Shadow’s own. “I’m gonna go back down.” Sonic stood up and stretched out. “If you wanna stay up longer or go home the girls won't be upset.” He then was gone in a flash. Leaving Shadow on the roof alone.

Shadow decided he would go find the others. He wasn’t fully convinced he wanted to leave. Nor was he fully convinced he wanted to stay either. Both seemed to have numerous cons to them that he didn’t want to cause. He tried to focus on the pros to make his decision but gave up on his midday roof sitting adventures either way.

Instead, he hopped off and started towards where he’d last seen Amy. He had watched Sonic speed off to find Sally earlier. Unsure if Amy had already grouped back with them or not.

Apparently not, as he found her exactly where they had left her. She was looking through a pile of multicolored scarves, skirts, and other trinkets. Most of the flags he didn’t recognize.

When he walked up to her she turned and gave him a wide smile. “Shadow!” she called out excitedly. She opened her arms, ready to envelope him in a hug but paused. “Are you still too overwhelmed for touches?” she questioned, tilting her head like a curious cat, her arms still outstretched but paused in place.

“I’m better,” he replied. “But nothing too big, please.”

She nodded and chirped a happy “okay!” before taking his hand in both her own to give it a soft and affectionate squeez. “Help me pick out a skirt!” She gently tugged at his hand to pull him closer to the stall.

“You’re getting a new skirt?” he asked.

“Well, most my pride stuff is old flags so I wanted to get something new!” She beamed up at him.

“Old flags?” Shadow questioned with a raised brow.

Amy nodded and took back one of her hands from his. She picked through a few different things, setting aside a couple as she went through. “You know,” she started up, drawing out her words in a sing-songy way. “Years pass, things change. I don’t really identify the same way I did when I was thirteen.” She gave a giggle, as if the joke was obvious.

Shadow wasn’t sure what the joke was.

She must have noticed the confused look on his face. Her smile turned to understanding as she explained, “some people’s gender or sexualities change over the years. I mean- are you the same as when you were a kid?”

Shadow looked back down at the multicolored clothing and trinkets. When he was a kid he was still in the Arc. “I… suppose not,” he finally let out. “But I don’t believe I had any sort of understanding of any of this when I was that young.”

“What, like, gay stuff?” Amy questioned.

He only replied with a muted nod. “I’m not sure how common it was on the Arc fifty years ago,” Shadow explained. “And even if it were, I wasn’t knowledgeable of it. Or really any time to myself to ever question anything of the like.”

Amy gave a nod, as she listened she began to throw scarves and cheesy sunglasses onto Shadow, as if to look and see how they look on him. “Well!” Amy declared, throwing a lesbian flag scarf back into the pile. “No time like the present, right?”

“How did you know?”

Amy looked up at him, pausing in her work. “Know?” She gave a thoughtful hum and looked back to the stand. “I mean, it takes a while,” she started. “Or, I guess it took a while for me. Knowing I was pan hinged on realizing I was a girl.”

“I guess it makes sense that they would be more or less hand in hand.”

Amy nodded in agreement. “It’s like,” she raised up her hands to wave them around lightly as she went, “when I was little I knew I liked Sonic. But it was a weird, like, hero worship thing.” She let her hands fall back to the trans colored skirt before her. “But, romantically liking guys- or even girls for that matter- felt weird.” Her hands began to fidget with the ends of the fabric. “When I realized I was a girl though, I realized I was imagining myself in relationships as a guy. Which wasn’t what was right, you know?” She looked up at him. Her smile was reminiscent and soft. “It felt good. Like a breath of fresh air.”

“How did you know you were a girl, though? How does one even know that sort of thing?” Shadow mumbled out the last part of his question.

Amy reached over and placed her hand back on his. “Honestly?” she started. “It’s different for everyone. Sometimes you just wake up one day and you know. Sometimes it's a lifetime of slow steps towards what you might not yet realize.”

Shadow met her gaze. He then let his eyes fall to their hands. “Sometimes I think I know who I finally am,” he began quietly. The words only meant for her, not the hundreds of people around them. At this point they’d all fallen to the background. The sounds and sights muted, completely focused on Amy and their conversation. “Then sometimes I feel like I have no clue.”

Amy just gave a gentle giggle at that. “Yeah, life can make you feel like that.”

Shadow took the risk and looked back up to her gaze. Her eyes were soft and comforting as usual. But there was an extra sentence there. More words that were left unsaid but were understandable by the way she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. The patient and loving look she gave. The comforting gesture given to show that she understood. Beyond the regular life experiences. Beyond the normal emotions of the everyday young adult. She knew Shadow’s feelings on the matter ran much deeper than that. Her words were not meant to lessen or trivialize his struggle, but to assure him that on some level, he wasn’t alone.

“But now I gotta ask,” she started up again. The bright chipper tone coming back full force. “Why the sudden questioning? Never thought you cared much about that kinda stuff.”

“I don’t,” Shadow quipped back without thinking. “I-I mean. I didn’t. Or,” his words became mumbles as he looked to the ground beside him. His eyes zeroed in on some silly string left behind. “I didn’t think I did. I suppose, coming here has… caused me to re-evaluate those opinions.”

“And your conclusion?”

He paused this time. Not wanting to give an immediate answer. He thought back on the conversation he’d had with Sonic earlier. About the things he did know about queer identities and how they worked. He then sighed and looked back at Amy with a small smile of his own. “I’m definitely not straight.”

She blinked before busting out into another fit of giggles. “No,” she squeezed out between laughter. “I didn’t think you were either.”

Shadow couldn't help the chuckle bubbling out. Once their laughter subsided, Amy began to swing his arm gently.

“I will admit,” Shadow said with a small sigh. “I’m not sure how I feel… on the other end.” His face lowered with his eyes. He hated the forein feeling of embarrassment that bit at the corners of his mind. Just enough to make the skin under his fur become warm, but not enough to be visible.

Amy pushed her face closer to Shadow’s from below, clearly chasing after his gaze with a cat-like smile of her own. “Other side?” She questioned, her tone now holding something more giddy. “Do tell.”

Shadow’s face only grew hotter with her pressing. He moved his head back a bit more, puffing out his chest with a huff. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Oh totally,” she agreed with a nod. “Now spill!” she giggles out, gently smacking his chest with her other hand.

“I’m not sure if I can even word it,” he mumbled back, his posture slowly moving back to normal. “The feeling is alien to me, though I can’t say it never existed just…”

“More center stage now?”

Shadow nodded.

Amy returned the nod in understanding. “You know who you should really talk to about all this? Sally!”

“Sally?”

“Yeah!” Amy nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. “They’re definitely the gal to talk to with gender stuff.” Amy straightened out her own posture. Still keeping close to Shadow, but now fully instead of just his face. “My gender journey, even if it took a while, was like a total straight path,” she began to explain. “And Sonic always tells it that he knew the second he could talk. But Sally’s run through different identities and different directions of gender expression than either of us! She’s probably gonna have like,” Amy raised her hands and wiggled her fingers, “old wizard style smart gender advice.”

He let out a humored breath at that.

Shadow parted ways with Amy, leaving her to continue her quest of finding the perfect skirt. He started in the direction he had seen Sally go off to the first time she’d walked off on her own. He decided to walk instead of run or anything that could get him there faster. For the moment, he felt like he needed the short time between talking with Amy and talking with Sally to breathe. The conversation with Amy hadn’t even been that hard to have. At least, it shouldn’t have been.

As he walked through the streets and the crowds he saw numerous familiar faces pass by him. He thought about each one. How he didn’t really know any of their explicit identities. All he really knew about any of them was what he was to call them and, if they were in a relationship, what that relationship was. For a guy who’s current job had a lot to do with working in the field of intel, it felt as though he was missing plenty of it.

He wondered if that was another nail in his coffin? Was he supposed to know such details about everyone? Was it all common knowledge? He wondered if he were to figure his own out today would he be expected to tell the world? He supposed that would be ridiculous, now that he’d given it serious thought. After all, for one most of these people were friends of friends. Acquaintances he’d made through Sonic or Rouge. And on the other hand, why would he need to know such personal details about all these people’s identities? He was making a mental mountain out of a molehill. His anxieties over his own, now realized, insecurities causing every red alarm in his mind to blare off at once in rapid succession.

He thought about what Amy had said. About how her own journey had been a long one. Shadow wasn’t sure he could handle something like that. Not knowing something about himself felt like standing before a cliff with nowhere to go. Learning new things about himself was one thing, it was exciting to say the least. But to not know something at all, to have some sort of gap in his perception of who he was… Shadow’s identity was everything to him. He’d clawed out of the depths of every hell imaginable so that he could stand as he did and feel confidence in his life; in his very existence as a person. For all of that confidence to be somehow undone by the anxiety of what could only be described as a momentary question of his gender identity? It was infuriatingly laughable.

And yet, when Shadow really pushed himself to think back, he wondered if ‘momentary’ was the right word. It was hard to describe, even to himself, the one person who, arguably, didn’t even need an explanation for the way he was feeling. But there was something there. Some wordless nagging at the back of his mind. An old itch that he never learned how to scratch; instead opting to shove it to the very back corners of his mind where it would no longer bother him. An emotion that, at first, seemed to have no substance or reason but after just a moment of consideration would come to understand it was full of questions and need for… something. Something Shadow was unsure how to have or obtain.

Shadow’s thoughtful walk was cut short by the sound of someone calling his name. He turned towards the sound, hoping it was what he heard and not just the noise of the bustling streets getting the better of him.

It was Sally, waving its arms to get his attention as it walked over to him. “Hey, Shadow,” it greeted more casually once they were in normal ear shot of each other.

Shadow took a few steps to meet it halfway and nodded a greeting to it. He then looked around and noted the absence of blue. “Where’s Sonic?” he asked curiously.

“He ran off to go find Amy when he saw you coming,” it explained. “To regroup and everything.” Sally gave a chuckle and shook its head. “I didn’t mean to leave her alone for so long but I ended up getting distracted.” Sally then looked up at Shadow. “What about you?” it questioned. “How are you doing? Any better?”

Shadow nodded. “I met up with Amy before coming to find you.”

Sally chuckled at that. “Feels like the four of us are playing tag at this point. Come on,” it said and began to walk back where Shadow had come from. “Let’s start back so hopefully we can catch them before we lose them again.”

Shadow started after it, keeping an easy pace. He let silence slip between them as he tried to pull back any thoughts he had before running into it. He wasn’t sure how to go about any of this. He supposed ripping the bandaid right off would have to be the best bet for now.

“Sally,” he began, grabbing its attention. “I wanted to ask about…” He looked to the side, as if looking for the words he needed. “About gender?” he questioned, sounding too much like a question in the wrong way.

Sally looked at him for a moment, as if to try and figure out what it was he was trying to ask at all. It then smiled. “Lemme guess, you’re questioning the whole cis versus trans thing, right?”

Shadow responded with a nod. There was a pause, clearly Sally giving him a moment to say more. He gratefully took it. “I never tried to focus on these sorts of things before. Even now I’m not sure how well I understand it all. I feel out of the loop and like there’s more to me I don’t know and-” He was stopped by a hand on his arm.

Sally had gently taken hold of him. “Hey, you know you don’t have to figure this all out at once, right?”

Shadow nodded. “Sonic and Amy said similarly.”

“Well, they’re right. For once, in Sonic’s case at least.”

Shadow let out a humored breath at that. “He has his moments. I think you and Amy are to thank for that.”

“I’d like to think so too,” Sally nodded with a chuckle.

“I just feel very… lost, not knowing things,” he continued. “Almost frustrated by it. But it feels as though there's so much I don’t know about this sort of thing already, that there’s no way I could ever make sense of it for myself.”

“Like queer identities, you mean?” it asked.

Shadow nodded.

“You know none of that really matters, right?”

Shadow paused and looked at it. “Huh?”

Sally gave a chuckle. “There’s a ton of identities not because you’re expected to memorize all of them but for the people who want them.”

“I’m still not sure I follow,” Shadow mumbled.

Sally tapped its finger against its chin for a moment. “You know, like gynosexual?”

“Huh?”

“Okay,” Sally sighed with a smile, “gynosexual is someone who’s only atracted to girls basically. Because of this a lot of non-binary people who are only into girls will use it.”

“Alright,” Shadow nodded, to show he was following along.

“But they don’t have to use that if they don’t want to,” Sally added on. “It’s just as normal as if someone identified as a non-binary lesbian. They’re still non-binary and they’re still only atracted to girls. It’s just more up to them how they describe that and identify it.”

“So then, some of them can mean the same thing?”

Sally gave a hum in thought at that. “I guess by a technicality they all mean different things. But it matters more how the individual interprets them, less how society does. It’s your identity, you can call it and describe it however you want.” Sally then smiled and with a chuckle added, “I once had a friend who didn’t know if they were pan or bi for a while but stuck with pan cause they liked the colors of the flag better.” It put its hand back to Shadow’s elbow, letting its fingers run up his fur and to his shoulder affectionately. Comfortingly. “These words aren’t made to hinder anyone or to make anyone feel more lost. They’re made to help and to be comforting. If you don’t find comfort in them then just don’t worry about them. Easy as that.”

“What about you?”

It paused for a moment at the question. “Amy’s probably told you that when it comes to identities I’ve ran with just about everything under the sun at one point or another.”

Shadow nodded.

“Sometimes you just feel differently. You grow and change and that scares people sometimes but honestly it only excites me,” Sally explained. “I like change and growth. It feels good. It feels like the world is still turning and I'm turning with it. Who knows what I’ll feel next, all that matters is what I feel now.”

“Now…” Shadow mumbled to himself, as if to test the word on his tongue.

“What do you feel right now, Shadow?” it asked gently, giving him a patient and soft look.

“I-”

“There you two are!”

Sally and Shadow both whipped over to look towards the shout.

Amy and Sonic were making their way over. Amy was sporting a trans colored skirt while Sonic had on bi colored dog tags.

“We’re glad we found you two before we got split up again!” Amy called happily. She skipped over to take Sally’s arm and slide on a fuzzy non-binary colored wrist band.

“We were on our way to the both of you, too,” Sally explained with a chuckle, smiling at its new gift before giving Amy a peck on the cheek.

Amy let out a giggle before making a sound of surprise, “Shadow!” She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her chest. “Did you talk to Sally about The Thing yet!”

“The Thing?” Sonic questioned looking from Amy to Shadow. “What Thing?”

“Same Thing from before,” Shadow responded.

“Oh! That Thing,” Sonic nodded in understanding. “Wait, you talked to Amy and Sal ‘bout the Thing?”

“I love all three of you so much,” Sally began, snapping all attention to it. “But the next person who says the word ‘thing’ like that I’m going to hit.”

Before anyone could say anything Amy smashed her hand to Sonic’s mouth who only did the same to her in response. The two matched glances and only began to snicker wildly.

“Yes,” Shadow finally responded. His voice laced with fond exasperation. “I had mentioned my thoughts on it all to Amy and then was just now speaking with Sally about it.”

“Soo, then what’s the verdict?” Sonic asked curiously.

Shadow paused, not sure how to answer. Did he even have an answer yet? It really didn’t feel like it.

“How about we go get some food and sit to keep talking about this,” Sally suggested, saving Shadow momentarily.

The group migrated to a nearby cafe and sat at an outside table with their snacks. The cool drinks were a refreshing welcome to the four of them having spent a number of hours in a large crowd in the hot summer sun.

Finally Shadow spoke, bringing back the past three conversations, “I’m questioning a lot of things, I believe.”

“Like?” Sonic questioned.

Shadow tapped his finger on the side of his drink. Frowning into the liquid from behind the transparent plastic. He was thankful for the momentary silence from the other three. A part of him felt nervous under their watchful gazes, but ultimately he understood they only wanted to listen and help. He wanted them to listen and help. There were very few other people he would feel so comfortable talking about such things with. The only other people being Rouge and possibly Omega or Knuckles. Even though some days, Shadow was convinced the latter two were just as lost with the times as he was.

After a moment Shadow let himself lean back into his chair and look up towards the others. “I want to figure out my gender before all else.”

“Sounds like a good place to start.” Sally nodded.

“Got any starting points to jump from?” Sonic asked, pulling the straw of his drink into his mouth to take a loud sip.

Shadow gave a nod. “I don’t believe I’m cis, for one. I’m not sure how I feel viewing myself as a ‘man’. It feels…” He frowned in thought. “Off, somehow.”

“Like a ‘wrong’ off or a ‘to the left’ off?” Amy asked.

Shadow only responded with a confused eye ridge.

“Do you feel you may be a woman, instead,” Sally translated.

The hybrid shook his head. “No. I don’t believe I'm trans.”

“Trans is more than just boy to girl and vice versa,” Sonic added in. “Trans is anything that isn't cis. So like, non-binary shit too.”

“Do you think you might be non-binary?” Sally asked.

Shadow thought for a moment. “Possibly? But I’m not sure to what end.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Amy asked past a mouth full of muffin.

“Non-binary is also an umbrella term, correct? It’s not a third gender. If I am non-binary, I wouldn’t know in what way or in what direction.”

“There doesn’t have to be any direction,” Sonic suggested. “Like, you could be agender. That’s like, no gender kinda thing.”

Shadow mulled over the idea, but ultimately shook his head. “I don’t feel like that’s it.”

“What about demi-boy?” Amy added. “Like boy but not really boy.”

Shadow, one again, shook his head. “No. That’s not it. I don’t feel like…” He sighed and frowned. He wasn’t trying to seem frustrated, and yet the feeling was slowly creeping into every action. He pushed a hand over his face and let out another sigh. “I have a gender. But it has nothing to do in relation to ‘male’ or ‘female’. That is how I feel. At least, as best I can describe it.”

“You don’t have to give it a name, you know,” Sally said. “You can be just non-binary and leave it at that. There’s plenty of people who also just identify as queer and leave it there.”

“Queer is an identity?”

“It can be!” Amy nodded in agreement. “Some people use it as a gender, sexuality, or both!”

Shadow let his canines gently tug at the inside of his lip. Queer sounded simple. It wasn’t some big thing or an unfamiliar sentiment. It felt familiar and natural and… nice. “I think… I think I like that.”

“Oh shit!” Sonic called out, throwing his hands to the air excitedly. “Do you wanna change your pronouns too?”

“Oh, um.” He hadn’t even thought about pronouns. “I still want to keep the masculine ones. But… I think it would be nice to try out ‘they/them’ and see where that leads?”

“Of course!” Amy clapped with a bright smile.

“If you ever want it changed, just tell us,” Sally mentioned. Sonic and Amy nodding along in agreement.

“Alright,” Shadow said. Their own smile forming. The frustration and complicated feelings that had been haunting him all day had begun to dissipate. They continued to rotate the word in his mind.

“Oh! Also!” Amy called out. “Here Shadow, I got you this!” She pulled out a small, braided, rainbow colored bracelet to hand them.

They took it and slid it onto their arm, looking down at it with fondness. “Queer,” they mumbled out. “That feels a lot better.”

[malum-forev]

Try Anything Once

BuckyBarnes x Reader

Bucky finds himself at the worse place, the doctor’s office. But maybe it isn’t as bad as he thought.

Word Count: 2.6k

There were many things that brought James Buchanan Barnes rage, but at the top of his list was his mechanical arm. It was bad enough that it was a constant reminder of who he was, who he was created to be, but now due to a technical failure, it was even more of an inconvenience.

“I already told you that it’s fine.” He muttered at Sam, trying to open and close his palm, with no avail.

“Yeah, and if I were blind, I would believe that. You need to get that thing fixed. Maybe it just needs some motor oil.” He said followed by a loud laugh, only making Bucky’s eyes roll. “I already reported it to the medical department, anyways.”

“What are doctors going to tell me about this thing, it’s not flesh. They don’t know anything about it.”

“Well, I mean, we do have the best doctors in the world. I think they know something about that contraption.” Sam replied, standing up from his position and traveling to the front of the airplane to see how long it would take them to get back to the compound.

Bucky closed his eyes, trying to calm the bubbling anger that was filling him up, almost to the point of explosion. It was supposed to be the best, why would it be giving him trouble. Subsiding his anger, he thought that maybe he would have to go to Wakanda to get it fixed. Maybe he would even have to stay there for some time, he could only dream of that. In the past 80 years, that was the only time he felt something close to peace. Forcing his eyes to open, he realized that the plane was descending. Looking out the window, he saw what he dreaded the most. A team of people in white bathrobes.

“Doctors.” Bucky huffed in annoyance.

As he made his way through the white corridors with fluorescent lighting, he could hear at least three pairs of feet shuffling behind him. He could almost sense they were too nervous to ask him any questions. He stopped at the end of the hallway and waited for three seconds before turning around to face them.

“Well? Are you going to open this stupid door, or do I have to break it to get this thing fixed?” He yelled, not feeling anything as he saw the three young doctors shake and vigorously nod their heads. The tallest one, she couldn’t be a day older than 25, quickly entered the access code and opened the door. Revealing a large waiting room with one assistant behind a desk. He heard the elevator music first, after that came a whiff of something. Some kind of flower Bucky couldn’t recognize.

“I have an appointment.” Was the only thing he said as the assistant moved his eyes away from the computer and saw the former Winter Soldier. He was different, he wasn’t scared of Bucky.

“Name and date of birth please.” He asked kindly as he faced back to the computer.

“This must be a joke.” Bucky said, as he watched the assistant’s motionless expression, he realized it wasn’t. “James Buchanan Barnes, March 10th, 1917.”

“Thank you, Dr. (y/l/n) will be with you shortly. Would you like anything to drink while you wait?” He smiled again, only enraging Bucky even more. He decided no answer was needed. After about two minutes, he saw the door swing open and a field agent came out first.

“Thank you so much Doc.” She smiled, Bucky had seen her before if he remembers well, she even introduced herself. But like always, he never remembered anyone’s name. She smiled as she passed him, and he just nodded back. After the agent, a woman in that dreaded white bathrobe came out. Average build, fragile looking, late twenties, it would take me less than two seconds to knock her off the ground. Bucky thought, immediately erasing the thought from his mind, something his therapist had taught him to do.

“Mr. Barnes, please come inside.” She said, her voice was extremely peaceful and calm. Everything about her seemed that way. It was as if one of those singing birds from Snow White had come out of the storybook and became a human. Bucky followed her into her office and sat down, looking at the pendulum sitting on top of her neatly organized desk. Swinging back and forth infinitely. “You’re here because your arm is giving you trouble?”

“The metal one.” Was the only thing he said, she just nodded and motioned him to sit on the exam table, “I’m not laying on that. I’m not five.”

“You’re obviously not five, you were born in 1917.” She quickly replied. “If anything, I should have you sitting on a wheelchair, or one of those reclining chairs they have elderly people in. I need you to lay down here to check your prosthetic. I also need you to remove your jacket, and anything that would obstruct me from performing my analysis.”

With a quick glare, he followed her instructions. He took his jacket off and without thinking twice, ripped the sleeve from his t-shirt.

Laughing a bit, the doctor started contorting his arm in different directions. “You superheroes really have a passion for all things dramatic. You could have taken off your shirt.”

“This was easier.”

“Not much of a talker, are you?” she said before pressing on a disk near the arm’s wrist. Gaining a hiss from the former assassin.

“Could you just stop.” He said in an annoyed tone. “I’m just here because your people were waiting for me once I got off the damn plane. Now stop messing with it before you break my arm.”

With one swoop motion, he was back on his feet. “This is made from an incredible rare material. Something that they probably didn’t even know existed at whatever school you got your degree from. Which one was it?” Bucky said, getting more and more angry as he saw the doctor didn’t even flinch at what he was saying. He started looking around the walls to see where she had that paper framed. The one every doctor likes to display, as if it was some sort of badge.

“I don’t have a medical degree. You can say this comes,” Dr. (y/l/n) took a pause. “Naturally to me.”

Bucky let out a small laugh. “I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, I’m not going to have some random person who couldn’t even finish med school looking at my arm. It’s probably more expensive than everything you own.

Dr. (y/l/n)’s expression didn’t change, the small smile still on her mouth. “Pepper’s team warned me about you, Mr. Barnes. They said you were, difficult.”

“Difficult.” Bucky scoffed as he leaned on the medical table, he watched the doctor move back behind her desk. Typing something on her computer, the printer slowly coming to life, sending out a small piece of paper.

“Well, they actually said you were a huge pain. Difficult is just the word I choose to use.” She adjusted her glasses and read what was on the paper, taking out a pen and signing it.

“It really shows that after Steve left, this place started hiring just about anybody. Their whole system is going to fall apart if they keep uncredited people here.” Bucky spat out, aggravated at the mere thought that Sam would have sent you here with her.

“You’re not completely wrong with that statement. But I don’t think it was after Steve, it was before that. At one point they even recruited brain washed assassins.” The doctor replied with a grin on her face, only making Bucky’s blood boil even more. “Try this, it will help with regaining mobility.”

Bucky ripped the paper out of the doctor’s hand, crumpling it up and shoving it in his back pocket. Turning around to leave the office.

“Oh and Mr. Barnes, you have to come back to finish the assessment before you can go back into the field. Those are the orders stated by Mr. Wilson.” Again, that smug smile adorning her face. Does she always have something to say? Bucky thought as he stormed out of the medical building, heading straight to Sam’s room. He was going to hear what Bucky had to say about that know-nothing fake doctor.

Bucky heard Sam’s laugh before he actually saw him, as the automatic doors opened, he saw that the laughter was directed towards him.

“I’m guessing by your angrier than usual glare, you saw (y/n).” Sam said with a gigantic smile.

“Was that some sort of prank? You hired a fake doctor only for me to go and waste my time?” Bucky asked as he strode past him walking straight into the kitchen.

“What did you have planned for the rest of the day? Sitting on the corner of your bed at three pm, standing in a corner at four and do your hair at five? I know you do your hair, it’s impossible for it to always be perfectly imperfect.” Sam said shooting Bucky a questioning gaze, but he just rolled his eyes and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “And what are you talking about fake doctor? Please tell me you let her do her job, if not I can’t let you come on the mission tomorrow.”

“Of course I didn’t, tomorrow I’m going to see an actual doctor to get a stupid note that says I’m fine! Even though I’m telling you right now that I’M FINE.” He yelled as he smashed down the bottle, making it as flat as a piece of paper.

It was at this specific moment that F.R.I.D.A.Y. said: “Bucky Barnes, you have an appointment with your therapist tomorrow at 11:30 am. If you were to miss this appointment, you will be sanctioned and will not be able to assist on missions.”

This obviously sent Sam on a fit of laughter. “That message couldn’t have come at a better time. Anyways, you need to get your appointments aligned. I suggest you go to the Doc’s office tomorrow morning to see if she has anything available.”

“Just send me the actual doctor’s office and I’ll be there tomorrow morning.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Bucky, I don’t know who got it into your head but, (y/n) is an actual doctor. That why she’s Dr. (y/l/n) and not just (y/n).”

“She was the one who told me she’s not credited. She doesn’t even have a medical degree, let alone know anything about vibranium!” Bucky said throwing his hands up in the air.

“You don’t have a degree but that doesn’t mean you’re not capable of being an ass. And an annoying one too!” Sam said, getting frustrated with the conversation. “Look, Dr. (y/n) has been here for a long time, she knows what she’s doing. Maybe you don’t know anything about her because you were frozen for half of your life and the other half you spent being a cyborg assassin. Also, she was one of the first people to handle vibranium when it was found in Wakanda, so I think she knows something about that. She even spent some time in a hut over there, just like you! You have more things in common than you think. So, tomorrow you’re gonna get her some coffee, go to her office, apologize for being, well, you; and get that arm fixed. In the meantime, you can look up some things about her. You do remember how to google things right?”

“Of course I remember. Could you just help me get on the net?” Bucky said while holding out his phone, it was now Sam’s turn to roll his eyes.

--------

The next morning, Bucky reluctantly made his way back to the medical building. The two disposable coffee cups were almost knocked out of his hands when the doors swung open.

“Back already Mr. Barnes?” he heard Dr. (y/l/n) say, it surprised him that she would talk so casually with him, given that yesterday he was, difficult. “Should I put down extra thirsty as a side effect on your chart?” She asked pointing to both of the cups.

“Actually Doctor, one of them is for you. I didn’t know what you drank so one is a black coffee and the other one has a splash of milk and sugar. Sam told me you would accept coffee as an apology, some sort of olive branch.” Bucky said, shoving both of the cups near her for her to choose.

“You can take me to get coffee instead. Judging by the stale smell, this is day old coffee. Plus, I don’t think you have tried oat milk lattes.” She smiled as she guided him to the restaurant inside the compound.

“Oat milk wasn’t a thing in the 40’s.” Was all that Bucky replied. “I wanted to formally apologize. It’s something new to me, my therapist says I should externalize my feelings more. I did not know your past; you know with the whole regenerative thing.”

This was the first time he saw her not smile. She looked away for a moment and asked “Did you try what I told you. It’s a type of oil that seeps into the smallest indentations in vibranium, creating a protective layer. With that, and some rehabilitation exercises, you will feel as good as new.”

Bucky just shook his head, not wanting to talk about his less than normal extremity. He opened his mouth to ask her, but she interrupted. “I know what you’re going to ask me. I may not be able to read minds but this profession has taught me many things, one of them being how to read people’s expressions.”

“Can you still do it?” He pressed on, if what he had read was true, then she was probably one of the only people that could understand what he was feeling.

“Yes, of course I can. As a supersoldier I would think you understood. It’s not something that you can just turn off, it’s here forever.” She said pointing to her whole body. “I didn’t want this; I didn’t ask to be able to regenerate. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time and with the wrong people.”

“I researched you last night.” Bucky admitted shooting her a shy smile.

“Didn’t think you were tech-savvy.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee. “That was a long time ago, she’s long gone. I thought what I was doing was the right thing. And he, he convinced me that it was. But alas, I was only some sort of protection. Receiving the bullets that would wound him and healing the cuts that would kill him. But after I realized all the damage, we were actually doing I, I found this place. And from there on I decided I was going to heal other people. Even if they couldn’t regenerate.”

“I can relate.” Bucky said, slouching back on the bench they were sitting on, a weird feeling appearing inside of him. Something that he wasn’t used to, relaxation and peace. “I appreciate you not flipping out yesterday, I was out of line.”

“I’ve dealt with worse people here.” She laughed. “I looked at your videos fighting. You need to take better care of that arm of yours.”

“I didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me Doc, had I known I would have smiled at the camera.” Bucky said shooting her a smile, it was the first time she had seen him actually do that.

“It’s my job to check my patient’s whole file.” She explained but couldn’t resist to smile back. “And you can call me (y/n) by the way.”

“In that case, call me Bucky.”

[justcourttee]

Adrien asks mari out and she says i would of been so happy in the past but now its too little to late. She's engaged to Damian but they haven't announced it yet

Bittersweet

It had been a while since Adrien had found himself in Gotham City. Too many years to count on his hand. Yet when he received an invite from Marinette he didn’t hesitate to hop on the next flight to attend her gala.

He had no idea that she had created a partnership with Wayne Enterprises, in fact, he had no idea they were interested in the fashion world at all. Then again, why should he be surprised? When Marinette put her mind to something, nothing would get in her way.

Ever since he had taken over his father’s company, Adrien hadn’t had much time to keep up with his old school friends but it hadn’t stopped them from trying to keep him in the loop. From what he could gather, Alya and Nino would also be attending, Rose and Juleka too. It would be nice to see them all again, especially Marinette.

Stepping out from the warmth of his hotel room and into the cool streets, Adrien couldn’t help but let his mind drift to thoughts of her.

It took Marinette moving to the States for him to realize how much he was in love with her. It was something he never wanted to admit seeing how much he adored Ladybug, but as she disappeared from his grasps, he was left to face his true feelings.

Glancing at his phone, Adrien confirmed that he was mere minutes away from the address she had listed. The gala was still a few days away, but Marinette asked if he had wanted to meet up for a late-night coffee, a Gotham specialty. Even her scarf that she had gifted him ages ago couldn’t hide the red on his cheeks as he imagined the perfect date with the girl of his dreams.

He paused, reaching the door of Deja Brew, his heart beating a million miles a minute. Somewhere in this late-night shop was his best friend. How would she react to seeing him again? Would she be as excited as he was? Would she feel the same way as she did?

Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door, his eyes glancing through the scattered exhausted customers until they landed on her. She still hadn’t noticed his presence, her nose buried into her sketchbook, her coffee still steaming beside her seemingly untouched.

She was early.

The thought almost drew a laugh as he approached the counter to place his order. Of course she would have finally picked up some time management skills by now. Marinette was 27 and slowly making a name for herself as the future of the fashion industry. That wasn’t something accomplished by constant tardiness.

He picked up his cup, placing a ten into the tip jar, the hostess’ raised eyebrows making him smile. He could already hear his father scolding him. After all, that wasn’t the way to becoming a billionaire. You only make money by holding onto it.

Honestly, Adrien didn’t understand why he had to be a billionaire. His father said it would raise the bar for their line, but it just wasn’t in Adrien’s heart to hoard all of the money unnecessarily. Maybe the Waynes offered Marinette the same advice. Maybe they had something they could relate to together.

“Excuse me ma’am, is this seat taken?”

His heart had finally slowed down but as her eyes slowly peeked up at him under her lashes, it immediately began somersaulting once more.

“Oh Gods, Adrien!” She was out of her seat before he even had the chance to set down his coffee, her arms flung around his neck. He hoped and prayed she couldn’t feel his chest threatening to explode. “You should have said something! I’ve gotten into the bad habit of zoning out in public places.”

Her smile was blinding as she unwound herself, slipping back into her seat, motioning for him to sit as well.

“How was the flight? Did you fly private or first class?”

Adrien gasped, his hand covering his chest as if she had shot him.

“I only flew business thank you very much.” Marinette’s look of mock disbelief earned a small chuckle.

“That must have been so hard for you. I really am sorry you went through so much trouble for my sake.”

“You know, I would go through so much more for you Marinette.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, so quick that if he hadn’t been staring so hard at her, he might have missed it. Did his statement make her uncomfortable? He had only meant it jokingly with the truth laced in, but he was sure his eyes gave him away. They always softened when it came to her.

Marinette cleared her voice, her true smile shining once more as if the falter never happened in the first place.

“You’ve missed so much, I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about from the beginning?” She nodded as she dove into her move to the States and how she began as an intern for the CEO, Tim Drake, years ago and slowly worked her way up to personal assistant.

She recounted how Tim found her sketchbook at work one day and showed it to his father. Together they agreed that she was their way into the fashion industry, an investment that could open the door to many more jobs for the Gotham citizens.

It took two years, but she finally had a full line that was presented at Bruce’s first fashion show.

“So many big names were there Adrien! I really thought I was gonna faint!”

His smile became softer and softer as she recounted meeting the rest of the Waynes and finally after six long years, she had made enough of a name for herself to be holding her own official Gala, the Wayne’s simply a sponsor.

“That’s amazing Marinette, you’re amazing.”

She beamed proudly, her smile pulling at his heart.

“I couldn’t have done it without them. They are genuine and kind people and they are pretty much family.” Something glistened in her eyes as she spoke of them. It could have been obvious to anyone, Marinette cared so deeply for these people.

It was Adrien’s turn to falter as an ugly thought passed.

She’s so comfortable here, she would never want to come back to Paris with me.

He was shocked with himself. This was no time for jealousy. His best friend, the love of his life, was excitedly telling him about a future she had built for herself and the only thing he could think was that it was an obstacle keeping her from him?

Adrien desperately wanted to smack his own forehead, but for Marinette’s sake he straightened out his smile instead.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve only been talking about myself! What’s new with you? How’s your dad’s business? Do you have anyone you’re seeing?”

His eyebrow raised at the last question. She asked the question he so desperately wanted to ask her. And she did it so casually, equating it to his work and social life. Did that mean she was also fishing for his response?

“Nothing much. Dad wants to move from a multi-million dollar business to a multi-billion dollar business so he’s been pretty aggressive about money lately. He didn’t even want me flying over here for the gala.”

Marinette snorted much to his amusement. She knew how his dad was and how petty he could be as well.

“And as for your last question,” he paused watching her face carefully. “No, I am not seeing anyone.”

He waited for the reaction, any reaction really. But none came. Instead, she simply nodded as if she expected as much. Maybe he had read into it too much. She really could’ve just been asking for the sake of catching up. Should he ask too? Was that what she was leading up to?

Adrien cleared his throat before taking a long draw from his cup. This was so nerve wracking. She looked so content, so grown. This was a Marinette who had grown leaps and bounds while he was still stuck in this high school romance that was quite possibly one-sided.

“Well, I hate to cut it short but it’s going to be a long day tomorrow and Damian will be here any moment to pick me up.”

She slid out of her seat so effortlessly, her sketch book snapping shut before it disappeared into a bag that he hadn’t even noticed. Her smile was just as warm as he remembered, but something was missing from the girl he loved.

“Your eyes.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Marinette’s smile faltered as she tentatively reached up to touch her eyelid, confusion etching it’s way into her face.

“Is there something near my eyes Adrien?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-” Adrien bit his lip, trying to string his thoughts together before he sounded even more like an idiot. “You used to stare at me with such soft look. I’m sorry I never noticed, but once I did, it was all I could see. Yet now-”

He trailed off as her lips drew into an o, her hand moving slowly from her eye to her lips, trying to hide her shock.

“-now, I can still feel the love in them, love directed at me, but it’s not the same love is it?”

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the right words. He knew she was trying to explain that he was wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to lie. It was the only confirmation he needed.

He slid out of the booth, his hand grasping the scarf slipping from his neck.

“Marinette, I was so excited when you invited me out tonight. In fact, I thought of it as a date.” She tried to reach out, but Adrien took a step back, tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t blame you at all, please don’t think I’m saying all this to make you feel guilty. I just had to get it off my chest.”

Adrien blinked hard, trying to spill the tears clouding his vision. This was harder to say than he thought. Her eyes were so distracting, the sympathy oozing toward him in waves.

“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I know you’ve made your life here and I would never dream of taking that from you. Hell, if you asked me to, I would drop everything to be at your side in an instance. Is there any chance at all that after the gala ends, we could give this a shot? Just one real date. Not some deluded fantasy I created in my head, but something we both consent to.”

He flinched when her hand finally made contact with his upper arm.

“Adrien, I love you. I really do. But you were right when you said my eyes had changed. That soft look is meant for someone else now. He and I had tried to keep our relationship quiet, but tomorrow at the gala, I was going to announce my engagement to Damian.”

Adrien couldn’t help the small sob that left his mouth. He was painfully aware of the few scattered glances all directed toward him, but he couldn’t help it. He felt Marinette pulling his head down until it laid resting on her shoulder, her small arms wrapping around his figure. It was embarrassing how hard he cried, unable to hold back his sobs any longer.

“I’m so sorry Adrien, I had no idea your feelings had changed. You were always chasing after a dream when we were younger and when I left Paris, I had finally decided that there wasn’t a chance after all between us.”

He knew she meant her words as a comfort, a promise that at one point, she would have gladly accepted his offer. Why couldn’t he have seen it earlier? Why was he so blinded by a partner who never even revealed herself right to the end? He had someone who trusted and loved him with all of their being and he ignored their feelings for a what if.

Adrien slowly pulled himself from her grasp, his smile shaky. He took a moment to use the end of his scarf to dry his soaked face.

“I’m glad you told me that Marinette. I really am. And I hope you and Damian have a long and prosperous life together.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth forming the wait, but he was already out of the door, running. It was a cowards move, one he would mull over all night. But it was too painful to look into the eyes of one you love and only find pity reflecting in them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“So you came?”

Adrien turned, his smile bittersweet as he embraced Alya, his fist connecting with Nino’s outstretched hand.

“How could I not support her? She’s worked so hard to make this a reality. My feelings can take a backburner for one night.”Their eyes all trailed to the center of the room where she stood, her arm threaded through with the man he assumed to be Damian Wayne. “Besides, you can tell. She loves that man beside her more than anything in this world.”

The glint of the ring on her finger caused an aching in his heart. Despite it all, he really did wish the Wayne boy no ill will. If he was who Marinette chose to spend the rest of her life with, then Adrien trusted her decision.

“I’ve never seen her smile so bright. And to think, I used to believe her smile was at its maximum blindlingness.” Nino’s chuckle earned a small chuckle from Adrien as well.

There was no denying it.

Marinette was where she belonged. The only thing left was for him to support her in any way that he could. And that was exactly what he planned to do.

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[dainty-fingertips]

a forever thing. ||kars x fem! reader

wrote this one a few weeks ago bc a friend said i should write something with kars,, ended up being too long and i don’t think she ever finished reading it;; also, spoilers for if you haven’t finished battle tendency !!

word count: 2233

summary: training alongside caesar and joseph, you end up being kidnapped by the remaining two pillar men after the death of esidisi. a closet bookworm, you end up spending most of your time cooped up in the library of the rundown hotel, though most of your time is spent thinking of the leader himself. after kars drops some undeniable hints, you decide to test the waters.

trigger warnings: none :)

||

          Being taken for a sort of ransom by aztec gods wasn’t exactly on the agenda today. 

          After Joseph had killed Esidisi, the remaining two were -- as expected -- on edge. Wamuu, the youngest, and Kars, the eldest. You could grasp a fleeting understanding on why they chose you specifically, but nothing enough to make complete sense in your brain. It could have been Caesar, it could have been Lisa Lisa, but no. As of now, they were treating you quite well, actually. You figured Wamuu was the only reason you weren’t bound by rope and eating out of a dog bowl right now. Instead, you were perched upon a plush reading chair in a rundown library, clad in a comfortable robe (thanks to Wamuu, you weren’t stuck in your sweaty outfit from before). You had planned on touring to Switzerland one day after the war, but being trapped inside a rundown hotel with no real access to vitamin D was really taxing your health (mentally and physically) and never intended to be something you spent your time doing while here.

          In your rough-skinned hands, you held a worn copy of In Search of Lost Time. Your reading comprehension had improved over the past few weeks, at least. A rough knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m here.” You said calmly, hoping it was the younger Pillar Man. Of course your desires were not met. Kars stepped into the library, his headscarf absorbing some of the light from the candle lit on the table next to you. He eyed you in what appeared to be mild distaste. “Why are you awake?” You looked up from the book with an odd expression. “What do you mean?” You asked him. The god huffed softly, motioning to the boards on the windows. “The sun has gone down. Are you not tired?” You pulled your gaze over to the covered windows. “...Oh.”

          You had failed to notice the absence of flittering rays much earlier. “Wait, what time is it?” You mumbled to yourself. You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall to your right and your expression dropped. “It’s 1 am.” he mumbled, crossing his arms. You pursed your lips and quietly closed the book. You uncrossed your legs and set it back on the shelf. Kars watched you slowly make your way back and forth. “What about you?” You asked, wrapping your fingers around the candle tray. He stared at you. Were you asking why he was up? “What do you mean?” He asked with a sigh. “You’re still up, but you aren’t tired.” You stated while approaching him. He didn’t move. “I’ve told you this. Neither me nor Wamuu need sleep, human. Es-” He stopped himself mid sentence and his cold expression seemed to falter for only a moment. You had learned, in your three weeks here, that the pillar men deemed it inappropriate to show emotion to anyone other than family members or mates. 

          Kars had never slipped up around you before. 

          The gears in your brain began turning. Kars wouldn’t show something like that to Wammu even, at least that’s what you’d been told. Why, even if for a split second, would he let you see that? Did he see you as someone close? The mere idea was laughable. Kars’ cold exterior soon returned, though. Simply brushing aside the sight, you continued to listen to him. “Esidisi didn’t need sleep, either.” He continued, his voice almost strained. Was Kars trying to hide his pain? You looked at him with soft eyes. Kars seemed to get minorly flustered and removed his gaze from you.

          You sighed gently and gazed cautiously into his blooming red eyes, the simple sight of them making your stomach twirl a bit. He made you feel floaty when he looked at you. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away. You saw in your hazy peripheral that he had furrowed an eyebrow. “What?” He asked hesitantly, looking back at you. “Hm?” You couldn’t look back at him. “I was just wondering about something, that’s all.” You begged that the bluff worked on him, but you knew that Kars was smart. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, his eyes flickering across your face and body, looking for a hint of something in your body language. 

          He sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You stood there and glanced at him curiously, his back turned and footsteps echoing. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m taking you to your chambers. Come.” He said with a bored expression. “O-Oh, right.” You whispered. You jogged up to him, but slowed your pace once you were next to him. “What was it?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him without moving your head. “What?” He sighed through his nose. “You said you were wondering about something.” Your mouth opened to the shape of an O. “Right. I was just curious, uh, Kars. Do you think you could sleep if you tried?” You queered hesitantly, avoiding your original thought of Kars’ sadness. You looked back ahead of you. Kars gazed to his right, thinking. “An odd question, human. Why do you ask?” You shrugged slightly. “I dunno. Curiosity, I guess.” Kars aired out a small ‘hm.’ and inhaled sharply.

          “Curiosity is a dangerous fault in humans. No matter how long I sleep, that will forever remain a constant.” You cocked your head to the side a bit, working up the courage to turn to him as you both walked. “What do you mean?” He looked down at you, a strand of his hair tufting out slightly. “It’s what got that damned Joestar wrapped into this mess. If not for him, we wouldn’t need to deal with this. Our mission would be far less… complicated.” You nodded your head. “And that’s been a forever-thing?” He squinted his eyes. “A what?” 

          “Well, that’s what my dad used to call it.” You said with a gentle chuckle. “Y’know, a forever-thing. Something that’s been around for forever. Literally and figuratively.” 

          “A forever-thing?” He pressed.

          “Mhm.”

          “Humans and their idiotic names for simple terms.” he spat.

          “Oh really?”

           He scoffed. “Yes.”

          “Then what would you call it?” You joked, putting a playfully heavy emphasis on your words. Kars groaned, but deep inside his old bones, he felt something. He could admire beauty when he saw it, especially for a human, but this was getting out of hand. You were completely oblivious to the fact that Kars had taken an especial liking to you, which he was grateful for. His cold demeanor felt almost immoral around you. You were similar to that Joestar boy, but you were somehow more tangible. He could… stand you, sure, but he didn’t know why. He had been surrounded by nothing but cold glares and serious attitudes his whole life, and he magnified it in the way he lived. It’s what earned him the highest rank in what now remained of the tribes, being merely him and Wamuu. 

          Though, having you around was a strangely acceptable change of tone. He began finding himself seeking out your attention, like 10 minutes ago. You weren’t in your bed, so he came looking for you where you normally sat; the library. You were propped in that chair, now claimed as yours, with your knees to your chest and a book in your hands. You seemed almost magnetizing, you seemed almost… well, he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt this way. Why did you grab his attention? You held him in your fingers like putty, rubbing him in all the right ways. Maybe, because of you, his opinion on the human species wouldn’t be so dire. Maybe, in your toothy grins, your glittering eyes, and your gentle hands,  you would change his mind. 

          Only then, did he realize you had taken his hand in yours.

          He quickly pulled it away. “Don’t touch me.” He spat, eyeing you. You chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, force of habit. Whenever my dad was deep in thought, I’d grab his hand to pull him back to Earth.” Kars scoffed, rubbing his hand as though trying to get the feeling of your rough hands off of him. They were hard and calloused from training, he presumed, though it added to his simple adoration. He had never met a woman like this. His eyes lingered back to your hands for a moment before looking back ahead. “Well, I’m not your father.” You simply smiled ahead and didn’t respond.

          Kars let his hands fall to his sides and the two of you make it up the set of stairs to your room. The door sat closed, and you looked at Kars. “Would you mind, Kars, if I told you something?” You questioned casually, entering your room and looking at him from the inside. He nodded once and silently asked you to continue. Your face grew warm and you looked to the side, unable to look at him for a moment. “You…” You began, unsure how to tell him. He raised an eyebrow. “I what?” He said. You knew he was an impatient man when it came to things like this; you had heard it from Wamuu whenever he’d bring you food. “Spit it out.” You sighed and looked at him, your gaze wavering and nervous. “You aren’t half bad, Kars.” You said with an awkward tone of voice. You knew you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t know when you’d actually be able to tell him alone.

          Kars’ stance was unmoved. The meaning behind your words didn’t fully strike him until after the two of you silently stared at each other for 20 seconds. His face, twisted in mild confusion, soon loosened up. Realization clubbed him like a wooden baseball bat behind his knees. His maroon eyes darted across your face and his lips parted slightly. “What -- What are you saying?” He said quietly. He was sure his brain was playing tricks, but your face, it seemed so fearfully genuine. Sweat accumulated on the back of his neck in his headscarf. Kars was a god; the most powerful pillar man. He was above this. Why did… Why did it feel wrong to act that way around you? Why did he feel almost guilty when he acted superior?

          You stood motionless. “I mean, y’know. I enjoy… your… your company.” You stumbled over her words. Were you being intimate with him? He’d never seen this side of you. You noticed Kars slipping up on his own standards again, as well. His surprised emotions were clear as day, etched cleanly into his chiseled features. His fangs poked out onto his lower lip, a simple protrusion which you had wished you didn't find cute. You genuinely thought that Kars was attractive.

          Then again, who wouldn’t? He stood tall, around 6’8”. He towered over most all he came in contact with, but that was simply second nature to you now. You were used to craning your neck to get a better look at those blood-red eyes that almost seemed to despise you. A dark loft of his hair would make its cameo every now and again. He’d always get flustered whenever you’d mention it, telling you that he didn’t need the approval of a human. He’d then, a minute or so later, slyly tuck it back in. It’s not that he didn’t know, of course; it’s just that he only cared enough about it if you took the time to tell him.

          Wamuu had noticed his growing infatuation with you and the thought brought him a smile. After sitting down with Kars and listening to him do nothing but wax poetic about you earlier tonight, he told him to go find you. Maybe take a walk with you, if he felt like it. Kars kindly took up the offer; it seemed you had humbled him in that department, too. Normally he wouldn’t bother taking anyone’s advice, but here he was. Pulling him from the crevasse of his rushing brain was your hand, humbly wrapping your fingers around his.

          Kars stared at his hands, fingers being separated by your own, in blatant shock. “You aren’t as bad as I thought you’d be.” You whispered, barely audible to him. He locked eyes with you and without thinking, going against everything he’d ever stood for in the past, he curled his fingers around yours as well. You smiled softly and looked down, avoiding his gaze. Kars’ lips pulled back together, his lips twitching, desperately wanting to smile. “I suppose.” He said hesitantly. “Why are you being nice to me?” He soon asked, turning his gaze back to your face.

          He pulled his hand away, taking a step back. “I…” You murmured, retracting your hand as well. He looked between his fingers as though he’d touched gold, small glittering remnants still freckled along his palm. “I don’t know.” you finished with a heavy sigh. He closed his hand into a fist and looked at you with nervous confidence. “Well, if there’s nothing more, then I will take my leave.” He said quickly, nearly stuttering his words. He turned on his heel and began going the way he came. You gazed at his back as he swiftly left the hallway and sighed in disbelief. You had just grabbed his hand.

          Kars, it seemed, had fallen in love with the enemy.

          The enemy, it seemed, had felt exactly the same.

[semischarmed]

Chrysalis, Part 3

This was the day. The tremors have only intensified. I feel myself tearing at the arm that I had fully bonded with Kyle. If I don’t act soon that’s all that’s gonna be left of me in him. So I decided it had to be today. I’ve been shivering all over too, probably in fear or anticipation? Probably both.

By no means was Red ready. He had a natural fighting streak so it wasn’t gonna be a smooth process. As prepared as I was, the odds were stacked against me. This body’s connection with me has degraded significantly faster than I had anticipated. Had I gone with anyone else, I’d be permanently one with Kyle by now, but of course it had to start with Red. No use crying over spilled milk. Taking Red would be the struggle of a lifetime. Had it just been me in my old body, I would have given up outright. But I was Kyle now, and Kyle does Not. Give. Up.

———

I fight a long, close game in the early afternoon and we barely eke out a win- mostly thanks to me, despite my current condition. I hug my teammates as our sweat and smells coalesce in the blazing sun. We bake uncomfortably long in the heat. They really were great teammates. Kyle basically did a 180 in their eyes, being far more comfortable, far more sociable, far more filthy- yet they accept me regardless. I breath them in, remarking on them and myself for possibly the last time, before making my way back to my dorm. 

I stop halfway as I am instantly crippled in a massive tremor that forces me to the ground. I retch. This was too tenuous, too delicate. There would be no time for any detours. I immediately run for Sig Chi.

———

Red wakes in a cold sweat in his bed, in the filtered light of the moon, to the image of his naked little bro- to the image of me jacking off to him. Of course he had to also be a light sleeper.  

“Heyyy Big Bro” I whisper menacingly, licking my lips. Fuck. Ok, ok, gotta improvise.

“Kyle? Kyle! What the fuck?! How did you get here? And, oh fuck... Jeeezus, is that you? Dude you fucking reek” I could tell he was trying to categorize the smell, but I quickly correct him. 

“That’s right I fucking reek, this cute little meat-suit had a game today. This is what my team smells like, this is what a man smells like,” I rush up to the naked Red, who instinctively recoils and pulls his sheets up. I lean in to my speechless big bro, sticking my face close to his, bringing our foreheads together. Despite his overall friendliness, he was a dangerous one. I’ve never met so much resistance in a person. I could show him no weakness.

I grab his head with my hands, pointing it downward to our bare chests, so we can both smell our combined odor. “This is what we’ll smell like”.

Red attempts to defuse the situation. “Ok, ok dude, great prank” he laughs, obviously disturbed. “But I- “ Before he can continue, I smear a bit of precum over his lips. ”I can’t wait to make you mine... big bro” I moan. I cup his sweaty left pec with my hand, giving a slight squeeze. His nipples, rock hard. “Kyle, get the fuck off me! The fuck is this?!” He pushes me off his bed with a force I did not expect. Still, my Big Bro Red- being the nice guy he was- made sure to only push me safely into a pile of old clothes. With the parts of me that were already inside him, I restrict any further movement. He breaks free from my grasp in small blips of resistance.

Red struggles in vain to leave his bed and I focus my hold on his body further. “You know, I was wondering how much cum it would take for your body to start accepting mine...” I trail. “Kyle, what the fuck are you talking about... what is this?!” He again struggles to move against his invisible restraints. I grab his water bottle and lift it up near him, giving it a little shake, motioning to it with my head. “Cmon, there’s no way you haven’t noticed... How’d you like the exclusive taste of me?” He shakes his head, utterly revolted, horrified, while a tent begins to form in his bedsheets. He looks down stating “no, no, that.... that’s not me... Kyle, this is...” I smile, amused, at the situation. Half-truth. For one he was wrong, that body of his was most definitely turned on. But I concede, if anything, that it was probably the result of his constant exposure to my seed moreso than his actual feelings for his little bro in the frat. Though his body had not been fully primed to accept me, I decide to continue layering on the mental damage, to better ease me in for the upcoming fight.

Since Red had so rudely interrupted my little session, I decide to continue where I left off, pumping my meat in front of him as I tear off his bedsheets.

“Oh Red, oh god Red! My roommate... he-he snuck inside me and ah fuck he took me... he stole me... poisoned my insides with himself... twisted me- look at me when I’m fucking talking Red- Look at how I wear his cute smile. Look how his body, his muscles, his feelings bend to my will. I make a great Kyle don’t I? Look how good I am at playing with my dick. Well I am Kyle, so of course I’m a great fucking Kyle.” Before I finish, I slip just my hand inside his- its veins flare up at my intrusion but I maintain the control of our now-shared appendage, bringing it up so we can examine it together. I wink at him before I seductively suck each of our fingers while I push my arm into his further. He watches in shock as he feels every motion. “But, you know Red, you know my roommate? That asshole is pretty greedy, asked me who else he’d look great in... and I told him I thought he’d make a great Red. I told him we’d be great at wearing your skin.” With our joint hand, I continue to pump my hard on, reveling in Red’s confusion and disgust in the process. I grab his dick, bringing it next to mine and letting him pleasure us both at the same time with his rough hand. He sweats as he continues to control his emotion, attempting to remain stoic. On the other hand, I am reduced to moans and whimpers- a sight that probably looks incredibly off coming from Kyle. His lip trembles and he lets out a soft grunt and a massive wave of pleasure hits us both. We begin to feel the sensations from each other’s dick in the process. Our breaths are shallow, and I look into my future eyes. 

“I-I’m a special case though. This?” I gesture to my own body with my free hand, as I explode, splashing a little on Red’s lips and lot on myself. Red explodes soon after and he stifles a moan. I now drag our shared hand all over my body, smearing and mixing our cum together over my stolen abs and his. “Kyle is fully mine. Forever. And you’re gonna make sure we stay that way.”

I raise Red’s now-slick, now-possessed hand again for him to examine. Veins rise as it struggles to resist my control, but I double down, giving a mean smirk and balling our shared hand into a fist. “If was just possessing him, we wouldn’t be able to then possess your hand. This? This is proof that he and I are one.” I follow by using that hand to squeeze my dick and Red’s together, until they coalesce into just his. Red is in shock at the events that have just unfolded, and I intend to use that situation to my full advantage. “No hard feelings big bro, you’re cute and all but I’m his forever home”. I lace my knees beneath his and smash my lower half into him. I feel his body clench and cringe until it is forced to accept mine. “Still, thank you for being there for me. When I realized we needed a new chrysalis to complete me... I knew it could only be through my Big Bro Red. I knew I could depend on your hot bod.” Our legs are one.

In one swift motion, I also slam my sticky wet chest into his, causing him to yelp in disgust and horror. I take the dribbling of my cum on his chin and, using our combined hand, I shove my seed into his mouth. I keep our fingers jammed into his mouth, making sure he gets a good taste of some fresh Kyle cum and his own beefy fingers. “Eat that shit up. I want that taste still in my mouth when I’m inside you” I moan. I snake my free arm into his other bicep. It shivers, glistening in the moonlight, covered in perspiration. Vibrating, his arm yields control to its new master- to me. These arms belong to Kyle now. “God we’re so close babe,” I moan. By now, only the upper edge of my chest and head are sticking out of his. I test out the new arms I have in my possession. They’re far larger than Kyle’s so I decide to stop here for a bit and revel in maneuvering my new sweaty biceps. I make Red flex for them me, and in straining movements, he is forced to show me what they can do. I moan, as my free head falls on his shoulder, drained from the process. 

“Honestly, I only settled on your ass cause you’re the next Pledgemaster. I knew you’d be perfect for slipping on some of next year’s pledges, perfect for making great fucking puppets out of this frat.” I mumble to his shoulder before looking back up at him. “But now? After getting to know you a little more? I think want something a little more. I want a taste of that ginger dick. I want a taste of that best friend of yours. Jeremy- he’s fucking hot- I bet he’s delicious, but I bet he’d be even fucking hotter and taste even fucking better from his best friend’s mouth. And when I’m inside him, wearing him as my new puppet, I want it to be because you stuffed me in there.” Emotionally, I think I have him defeated. His body more freely yields to me and my becoming Kyle is almost finally complete.

I intend to continue spouting weird shit to spook him but the part of me still outside of Red slips in a wave of cosmic shock, partially removed from Kyle. I shake violently in pain. Shit. Before I can recover, Red picks up on it and begins to fight me with his body all over. He flares to life and I feel his all out attack on me. “Kyle, Kyle, you gotta fight this. Cmon man, fight your roommate!” I feel my grasp over him slipping. 

“Fuck off” I growl, losing my composure. “He likes us this way. Wants us as one permanently-forever-together because I am Kyle. You wouldn’t understand. Here, have a taste of your little’s hot mouth.” I lean up and kiss him unexpectedly, digging my tongue into his mouth, merging my lips with his. 

He tries to scream, only to be stifled to a  “mmphhph”. I glide my tongue over his, wrestling it into submission before jamming it inside of his. I stifle a moan as our tongues become one. I slam my face ever closer to him, until we both breath and speak from the same mouth, until at last we can only see each other’s eyes. I give him a quick wink before finishing my possession and locking myself inside my human chrysalis.

Red’s body continues to light with tremors as the fight inside drags on. I make sure to cum a little more inside him, to layer more of myself and cement him forever mine. His eyes roll to the back of his head and his mouth opens unwarranted as he settles the last of his hold over his body to fight me. Goddamn he is tenacious. After what feels like hours, his body finally yields to me. He shakes viciously as the universe begins its correction. Red collapses onto the ground. In Red’s core I feel the last of Kyle’s essence integrate into my own. I feel the permanence of our connection. Nothing would ever take me out of Kyle again. I was Kyle- past, present and future. Natural order had been restored. Inside Red I felt safe, secure, complete.

I feel Red’s sweet release. He’s at peace, at bliss, since I can finally connect to his deepest parts, rearranging him into my perfect vessel. He would be mine forever. Then, I feel the fight from his mind. He grasps his body again, reiterating, begging for “Kyle” to break free from my control.

“I am here” I stated as Red, but only Kyle’s voice comes out. I break out of my shell. My naked form expels itself from Red, covered our juices, covered in my aura of forever. I close my eyes, breathing in the dank night air in Red’s room. He’s right, I fucking reek, but it felt good to smell it as a permanent Kyle. It felt good to stand with my permanently athletic legs. It felt good to use that word. Permanent.

Of course, I also left a lot of my seed in Red. Rearranged his insides so they’d better fit me. I watch expectantly at the soon-to-be reborn Red. Control over his body lights up in my mind. Red was mine. 

I examine him as Kyle, playfully humming in his voice softly while I circle -around him, lightly tracing the outlines of his muscles- of my new acquisition. I will him to give me another gun-show. His body complies. Fuck. Yes. My Big Bro’s hot ginger ass was truly mine to control. “Cmon babe, you have to admit...” I trail as Kyle. “I wear you well”. As Red, my faces dances in ecstatic joy before giving myself a wink.

Red’s body giggles as I assert more control of his frame and do some small seductive dances in front of my main body. “Yeah... all me” I moan as Red- though only Kyle’s voice comes out of him. Something else was still missing. “But I think this needs a little more.” I say out loud. I worship my new self with the two new bodies I control. In the midst of my little play session, I feel Red’s mind stir within me. There it was.

I feel him inside me, digging through my mind to look for his friend, to pull Kyle out of my grasp. I feel him desperately claw his way around and decide to humor him, giving him full access to me. In increasing anguish, he pulls to my corners, digs through the depths of my mind trying to find a separate Kyle to rescue him from his roommate’s clutches. Instead, he finds no separation, no distinction between my old self and Kyle’s. When he digs, looking for Kyles memories, he instead finds them interlaced with my own. In the physical world, Red’s face paints itself with a deranged smile. I surround Red’s Psyche “Told you he was special... he’s mine forever... don’t worry though, big bro. You didn’t lose Kyle. I’m right here. You won’t be alone. I’ll be right here, inside you too”. I briefly lose control of Red’s body as I continue with my all out assault on his mind. Red’s face cringes in pain as I bombard his sense of self, embedding me inside his psyche, corrupting my Big Bro with my perversions. He briefly laughs sadistically, yielding to his newfound gifts, yielding to the pieces of me I put inside him. He moans, wrapping more of my psyche into himself “fuck yeah, babe. Keep going, I’m a good Big Bro... I can take it” before shaking his head in anger “fuck you Kyle!” The switch inside Red flips back and he resumes into moans and filthy whispers about me wearing his skin. He again snaps back and punches the nearby wall. “FUCK!” he shouts. God he was strong. I already had his body, I already had his mind, I already had Red by all accounts, yet through pure resolve alone he resists me. God I couldn’t wait to have that will of steel as my own. In any case, It looks like his body’s inclinations just needs a final little push. 

I assert my new dominance over Red’s body, slapping my Kyle-self in the face, before finally speaking with Red’s voice, using it for the first time. Just controlling his voice was invigorating. “You sick fuck, Kyle. Look what you did to me, what you did in me. Toppled your Big Bro Red, conquered me, just like that. Wore my ass like suit and then left your squirmy little pieces inside” I lace his words with sex. Coming out of Red, out of my Big Bro, it feels almost blasphemous. Fuck yeah, Red feels great to be in. This body is amazing. I received the slap in Kyle with a moan. “Fuck yeah, big bro, it feels good doesn’t it? You like being my little puppet, don’t you? You want me in there, wearing you like a glove...” As Red I twirl my new fiery locks with my new, thicker fingers, “Yeah little bro... but I think we need an extra little punishment for you, for being such a fucking creep.” I make Red pout, sucking on his index finger while he continues “ How about your weird roommate jumps inside you and sews himself into your insides. How about he go even further and actually become your insides. How about he actually becomes you... How about your hot Big Bro make it permanent” I cackle maniacally as Red while Kyle’s face shifts into the dirty sneer I make us wear.

I parse Red’s mind for his reaction. It was from this point that he realizes just how far I went with Kyle. How much I became him. He relents at the matter, equally angry and aroused, finally understanding that Kyle was the one that took possession of him. Kyle created the plans to corrupt the frat. Kyle was the one did these heinous deeds because there was no difference between Kyle and his creepy roommate. Because I was Kyle. 

Red wrestles back control of his body. “Fuck you Kyle, I’ll make you fucking pay for this. When I break free I’m gonna-” I cut him off as I sneer with Kyle’s face, making Red’s do the same as I continue his sentence in moans “-come crawling back because I’m your bitch forever.” I laugh heartily in his voice. Time for that little push. 

In the heat of moment, I let him feel the sheer thrill of having both bodies under control, the sheer thrill of being me, before granting him control over his own body while I resonate within his psyche over the sheer ecstasy. He moans loudly “Fuck yeah... good boy... be a good Little, while dear Red here shows you how it’s done...” He rushes behind my main body, dragging his muscular arms in front of my chest feeling me up. We feel both sensations. Indescribable bliss. He leans in to my ear “we have unfinished business, bitch. It’s all your fault I’m like this... these-these... feelings...” he moans. “This is unnatural... and your punishment... your puppet wants a more” he licks my ear, probing his thick slimy tongue all over while his vascular hands tousle my sweaty hair. “C’mon Kyle. You know this body was built for fucking. Let me teach you how to use it right. Put on my skin- put this brain on. Wear me. Wear your big bro’s stud bod. Put your dick inside of mine. Haven’t-“  he trails off, grabbing his head in anguish “damn it... Kyle, why... why I am I like this...I’m a monster...  What did you do to me?!” Tears well in Red’s eyes, before he catches a whiff of my scent. He goes into a toothy grin as anguish flips to a lustful frenzy. He grabs my rod in his vascular hands, and begins pumping it. He moans as we are both hit with the feeling. “Actually, no... this is good. This feels right. This is correct. I’m not a monster, I’m a fucking god. Kyle you have a decent dick... but haven’t you wondered what bigger was like? I’m bigger. Look at this thick cock. Your big bro’s got you. Come back inside, where it’s safe...” Red slams his sweaty body onto my back, dragging me inside, encasing me in his muscular flesh. He locks his arms under my own, preventing my escape, and I play along, writhing in his grasp as he draws me back, deeper and deeper into him. “I want you squirming inside me when we fuck Jeremy. When we fuck the rest of the frat... I want-I need you to do it with this dick... contaminate them. Inject them with it. Give em a little taste of Red and Kyle.” Inside Red, I sheath his dick over my own, but continue letting him take the lead. “Fuck yeah.. that’s the stuff..” He moans. “FUCK YEAH” he roars, “trying” to push me out of him. I resist, as much as I can anyway, until I can no longer maintain it and am suddenly pushed out of him. ”Not yet, bitch” he murmurs, before his flesh greedily devours mine again, moaning all the while. We repeat this a few times, edging him closer and closer. 

I am paralyzed in bliss at the sensations, but Red maintains a better grasp of his emotions. He walks his inflamed, Kyle-filled self over to the pile of dirty, soccer-drenched clothes on the floor that I had I worn prior to getting into his room. He brings them up to his nose, inhaling deeply. “More...” he whispers... “I need more of you”. He puts them on, huffing in short, frenzied breaths, starting with the dirty  compression shorts I had worn for my game. They are stretched impossibly tight on his ass, and he moans when the waistband snaps back at our shared dick. We proceed with the soccer shirt, thick biceps ripping the sleeves and turning it into a tank. The remains of my dirty shirt cling onto Red’s torso like a second skin, imprinting the delicate curve of each ab, each bicep, and each nipple on to its straining fabric.“Thank you... for the Kyle Sandwich” he whimpers in a trance as his eyes roll to the back of his head and we collapse onto the floor. We smell like my team after a long game. We smell like the forest. Equal parts putrid and petrichor. We smell like ecstasy. His eyelids flutter. “Good little bro”. 

Then, tranquility is broken when he pushes me out. “grrrAHHH FUCk YOU KYLE” he half-shouts, half -moans. I am speechless. My form is again forcibly removed from his- I feel my visage imprint over his own, stretching his taught skin as it wraps over mine. I can see the light of day with my own eyes, and feel my cheeks stretched and melded to his freckled skin. Just a bit more. From behind me, where the back of my head should be, I feel Red’s smile and moan, as he feels my weight above him. He takes his thick arms rubbing them all over me, making sure I was stimulated the entire time I was being pushed out of him. “You got the right idea Kyle- no more deodorant for your big bro Red... we smell fucking better like this” I feel him stir, getting ready to pounce-no doubt to drag me back in. Before I can even say anything, I quickly realize the limits of my depossession. The process of pushing me out of him has slowed to a crawl. As my body continues to be expelled, to be raised out of Red, I am met with my own impossibly tight shirt and underwear, drenched in our sweat and restricting my freedom. The further my body leaves, the tighter we are pulled together by the fabric. We both moan this time. “Fuck Kyle! Get out! Get the fuck out of me!” he play-screams half convincingly, as he does a crunch with me above him. I feel the crunch from behind and he forcibly worms my own form back inside him. I pass out at the sensory overload. 

When I awake, I awake in Red. I walk to the mirror and see his face as my own. In split second intervals, my Kyle-self stretches out his skin and attempts to leave before it is pulled back. We are tight. Nauseatingly full-impossibly so. By all accounts, Kyle’s body should have been expelled from Red after being inside this long-possession doesn’t usually last this long, but my little fighter, my Big Bro Red will not let me go. We are held together by my own clothing and his sheer will. Partners. Amalgamate. Corrupt. I quickly take control and feel his voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me to get out- again, only half-convincingly. For all his perfection, Red really needed some acting lessons. I begin to feel the effects of being stuck in his body for so long, as a lightness and a numbness washes over me. Yet in that same vein I feel indescribably close to him, with a hyper-awareness of Red’s body. This can’t last too long, I assume, as both of us have long since hit our limit. I throw up involuntarily on the floor- it’s all just cum. 

Instead of stopping, the previous process repeats again. Our little possession dance happens again and again and again after that until we are utterly drained. We live as one Red, constantly in turmoil in the inside and perpetually in heat. Finally, a full three days later, we are both satisfied. I finally truly break from him as a lone Kyle. For one, I fucking smell, but also I am still a student. This whole experience had been immensely tiring. Still, I felt a sense of peace, in knowledge that new-Red would never leave me. 

———

Though I initially wanted to fully take and possess Red, to use his body as a mindless puppet for my own, I kind of like our current setup. I moved into his room the very next day after our little break, much to the annoyance to the rest of Sig Chi. Red moans all the time when I possess him- he’s not particularly quiet about it either, and he begs for it every other day, before berating me when I actually follow through. Our “incestuous” nature is pretty clear to the rest of my frat brothers but they awkwardly avoid the subject. Jeremy is the only one that’s visibly pissed- guess we’re breaking every law in frat code or something. Whatever. If anything, they’ll all be seeing the light someday soon- and we have something extra special planned for Jeremy anyway. 

I like to keep Big Bro Red in a pendulum state, between full autonomy and full possession. Even now, he constantly ‘fights’, attempting to push me out of him in vain and then dragging my ass back inside. To be honest, I find this whole setup kind of hot. I sure he does too. We’re always wrestling for control inside him, even though we both knew he was mine forever. I’ve extended the offer a few times to just jump into someone else in the frat or even leave forever but he always throws a big fit about it. Maybe he liked by puppetted by his little bro. Maybe he liked the fight. Maybe one day, I’ll actually fully take him. Of course, for now his red hot body runs a little warmer these days from our constant little dance. For now, I’ve been just been having fun, jumping in and out of him, swimming through his insides. We’ve been meaning to share too, naturally. There are some others on my mind- Red’s best friend, the Sig Chi president Jeremy- who we both agree that hot, dominant ass would make a for lovely little body to wear. Before Red, I was fine as just one person. I am forever grateful that he was my chrysalis, that he first full possession as Kyle. Because he helped me realize a king needs subjects. One day, I’ll take them all- every last hot piece of ass in this school. But for now, I’m content with occasionally just controlling and wearing Red, just wearing my proof of authenticity as Kyle.

—End Part 3—

Phew. Next story’s probably gonna be a bit lighter.

[sukifans]

Can I request a small Zuko x Fem!Reader, where the reader can't fall asleep and Zuko offers to cuddle with her, and she falls asleep very quickly?

SLEEP // zuko

WC: 1.2k

WARNINGS: none, pure fluff

A/N: my first request!! let’s gooooo!! hope u like this anon, i am so soft for warm zuko. perhaps i wrote this instead of studying for my lab practical... don’t look at me. also i didn’t proofread so don’t come for my ass okay

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

The flimsy silks of your night robes whipped around your calves in the frigid evening wind. Being from a village not too far outside the Si Wong Desert, even the Fire Nation’s winter was enough to chill your bones. As much as you disliked being cold, you still preferred the tropical seasons to the constant abusive desert heat you grew up with. Lucky you that a group of insane kids came through your town talking about finding Wan Shi Tong’s Library all those years ago.

The memories made you smile fondly to yourself and you made a mental note to write Katara in the morning and ask her to send some warm furs. Sure, you could probably get something much quicker from a local vendor, but Sokka always boasted about how his people make the best blankets. You folded your arms across your chest and shuddered in the biting wind, leaning forward against the balcony railing as you looked out over the sleepy city.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you glance over your shoulder and you smiled at the sight of a rumpled-looking Zuko. “Evening, Fire Lord,” you hummed.

“It’s far too late at night for you to address me by my title, Advisor.” He ran a hand through his already mussed hair and came up to stand beside you, leaving a respectable distance between you. Even so, you could feel the warmth radiating from his body and you subconsciously shifted closer.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really,” he sighed. “You neither?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Too cold.”

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye with a wry grin. “So you decided to come stand outside, in the cold?”

“The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma, Zuko. Don’t try to keep up.” You laughed at his eye roll. A particularly harsh burst of wind blustered across the balcony and you pulled your arms in tighter around yourself, shivering.

“C’mere, idiot,” he chuckled, reaching out to pull you closer. Your mouth dropped open in faux-outrage.

“That’s an awfully rude way to speak to your top advisor on Earth Kingdom relations,” you huffed. You still let him move behind you and hug you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your middle.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’re shaking like a leaf, (Y/N). You need to go back inside.” Despite his words, neither of you made to move away from the railing. You started to feel warm and sleepy, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against his shoulder as you melted into his embrace. He clasped your hands in his own, clicking his tongue when he felt your freezing fingers. You could still feel goosebumps along your skin, but now it was from the way his hot breath danced across your exposed collar bones. He flinched a little when you turned your head to press your cold nose against his neck. You could swear you felt his pulse racing just as hard as yours under his skin.

You opened your eyes again and moved so your lips almost grazed his ear as you whispered, “are you having those nightmares again?” You knew your friend went through sleepless spells plagued by terrible dreams of his father and the war and losing his loved ones. When he’d joined you and the Avatar and your friends, you were the first to notice how he’d sometimes jump awake at night, panting and sweating. One night, not unlike this night, during his first year as Fire Lord, he’d bared his soul to you and described the horrors he faced in his sleep. Ever since, you’d often sought out each other out when rest was evasive.

He simply nodded and buried his face into your hair, declining to elaborate. He didn’t know how to tell you that recently he’d been dreaming about losing you; that sometimes he’d wake up with your name caught in his throat and his cheeks wet with tears. You hummed in understanding and removed one of your hands from his to card your fingers through his hair soothingly. The gentle motion of your nails scratching against his scalp was almost starting to lull him into a trance state. You giggled when he let out a little contented sound.

“Don’t laugh,” he grumbled, “it feels nice. You know what you’re doing to me.”

“You’re like a happy, cute little turtleduck getting a head scratch.”

“I’m one of the most powerful men in the world, (Y/N); please don’t call me a ‘cute little turtleduck.’” He lifted his head from your shoulder with a groan and you turned in his arms to face him, not missing the way the moonlight illuminated the blush on his cheeks.

“Don’t act like a cute little turtleduck and I won’t call you one.” You raised your arms to drape around his neck and pressed closer to his warmth.

In moments like these, when Zuko looked at you like that, you wished he would just throw caution to the wind and kiss you already. You two had been toeing the line of “more than friends” for years at this point. It all drove you crazy—the lingering glances, the brushing fingers, the comforting touches, the tender embraces, the sweet smiles. You loved him and you knew that he loved you but any time there looked to be some progress he’d shrink away. With Zuko, your relationship felt like a complicated waltz of one step forward, three steps back, nine steps forward, twenty steps back. All you could do was follow his lead and wait.

His hands skimming up and down your sides made your heart do somersaults in your chest, knocking around your breath. “You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you.”

“You and I both know you’re all bark and no bite,” you laughed, poking his muscular chest. “All warm and squishy under that big, tough Fire Lord exterior.”

“Just don’t let the bad guys hear you say that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, my lord.” He felt a pull in his stomach at your use of that title and you again noticed the pink tinge of his face that usually accompanied the nickname.

“Alright, Advisor (Y/N),” he slid his hand down your arm to lace your fingers together, “let’s get you back to bed.”

“You gonna keep me warm, Lord Zuko?” you asked as you walked beside him back inside and through the torchlit palace halls.

“Of course. Can’t have you getting sick, now can I?” Neither of you mentioned that you both slept better with the other in bed.

He led you into his chambers, where the bed was bigger and the sheets were softer and a fire always roared in the hearth. You laid your thin robe over a chair in the room, leaving you in just your nightdress as you followed him under the covers, snuggling up against his chest with his arm around you. As soon as you laid your head down on his shoulder you started to nod off. You smiled to yourself, happy that you were awake enough at least to feel the kiss Zuko pressed to the top of your head and hear the whisper into your hair that sounded suspiciously along the lines of, “I love you.”

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi @simpinforsukka

ZUKO/SOKKA TAGS: @fiantomartell @buckywiththagoodhair @hypercakeiii

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: I don’t really have much to say about this chapter. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. NSFW 18+ mentions of poisoning, healing, mention of previous character death. Little bit of angst.

Word Count: 5119

Read Chapter 13 here on AO3.

Tagging: @lemongingerart 🥰

He stood by the door, long fingers rubbing his wrist as he stared at your prone form. The numbers on the screen were worse today, your heart was giving up and Hux experienced a feeling he didn’t enjoy. He felt useless. He had no power here, no say in what was happening and it angered him. The doctor had given you one more day before you gave up completely, the poison weaved through your body, black tendrils had appeared under your skin creating a pattern that criss-crossed all over you.

Hux fell back on the only thing he knew, his mask of indifference. He locked his turbulent self away in a box and buried it deep, with Ren gone on what was turning out to be a pointless mission he was in charge of following the lead for the New Resistance base, which was also turning out to be a load of nothing.

An alarm sounded on the monitor, the medical droid reacting instantly and wheeling to your side. Hux’s heart fluttered but all he could was watch as the alarm became a shrill constant noise, the Doctor burst in with a team of nurses and Hux was unceremoniously shoved outside. The door closed hiding you from view and he flinched, it felt like the hammer of death had struck down on you, Ren had failed. Running off alone on a fool's errand and not working with Hux to find a solution. His arrogance and ego was astronomical, thinking he could single handedly save you and be your hero.

Hux turned away from the closed door, his hands fisting and releasing in steady motions, a pain erupted in his jaw, blossoming behind his eyes and shooting into his mind. He didn’t even feel himself move, the muscles contracting in his arm as he pulled it back and slammed it full force into the durasteel wall. He grunted as pain radiated up his arm, his knuckles instantly swelled and he could feel the restriction within the leather gloves. He cradled it to his chest, accepting the physical pain while ignoring the mental, he embraced the hurt hoping it would dull the ache that increased with every beat of his heart. The longer they were in the room the more his barriers slipped and he wanted to hurt himself again, he gripped his injured and possibly broken hand, biting his lip to muffle the cry that wanted to break free. Physical pain he knew how to deal with, he knew it wouldn’t last forever he had extensive experience with it. The pain of losing you though, would cleave him in two and that was an anguish he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

“What are you doing?” He turned so hard he nearly fell over. Ren stood in the doorway, he looked filthy and exhausted but he was here.

“Where's the antidote? Tell me you have it!” He snarled.

“I already passed it to the Doctor, I was in the medbay with the Knights getting checked over.” Both their gazes drifted to the closed door and Hux felt the question burn inside him but he refused to ask it. He hated the force and everything to do with it, the whole thing was too much of a mystery for Hux, but if it could give him the answers he seeked…Kylo looked back at the General, his tired eyes flicking to the injured hand.

“You need to get that looked at.” He rumbled.

“I’m not leaving,” muttered Hux.

“Suit yourself.” Kylo sighed and carefully lowered himself into a chair, his eyes closing as he rested his head in his hand. Hux curled his lip in hatred, how could Ren just sit there like you weren’t dying in the next room? He looked like he wasn’t affected by what was happening to you at all but then he hadn’t sat here for the last three days watching the very life drain from your body.

“She’s alive.” Hux looked up with a frown, not daring to hope that Ren was telling him the truth. His eyes were still closed and a small furrow marked his brow. “They administered the antidote and it seems to be working.” Hux glanced at the door realising now what Ren was doing. “Recovery will be slow,” he murmured. “But she will be alright.”

“But they said about deficits…” Hux didn’t even want to utter those words but he had to know. Kylo slowly shook his head, the frown becoming more pronounced.

“Not that I can sense, but she should go in a bacta tank for a few days to be sure.” His entire body relaxed with a sigh and he slumped back in the chair clearly even more exhausted from exerting himself like that.

“You’re sure?” Pressed Hux.

“I’m not a doctor,” he griped. “But from what I can sense she will be ok.” They both looked up in unison when the door slid open and the doctor emerged.

“If you had been just minutes later with the antidote we probably would have lost her. I am pleased to say it’s working and I’m going to have her immersed in a bacta tank to help the process and hopefully reduce the risk of deficits.” He glanced at Hux’s hand and his pain filled expression. “Shall I take a look at that General? She won’t be awake for a while yet.” Hux gave a curt nod and let himself be led away but not before shooting a glowering look at Kylo.

The Supreme Leader watched the nurses file out, the last one saying he could go in if he so wished and soon he was alone. His entire body ached, he should be asleep recovering in his own bacta tank but he had to make sure you were seen too first, he’d never forgive himself if he went to sleep for a few days and woke up with you gone forever. The silence was damaging to him, battering him with it’s brutality. Had he been mistaken?

Were you dead?

No, he could feel you.

His footfalls were light as he entered the dark room, a soft blue glow emitted from the bacta tank and there you were. Floating like some ethereal creature from a child’s fairy tail in the thick fluid, he felt a heat creep under his skin as he took in your body, modestly covered but not leaving much to the imagination. He had the overwhelming sense he shouldn’t be seeing you like this, so bare and vulnerable. The black lines under your skin were fading as the poison receded, the vitals on the side of your tank looked good and yet he still couldn’t bring himself to leave.

The mask that covered your face helping you breathe was dark and bulky but he could still imagine your beautiful mouth, the way it curled into a smile, how you pursed your lips when you were annoyed. Your mouth gave so much of your emotion away and you didn’t even realise, but he did. He noticed, he noticed everything about you. Kylo placed a hand on the surface of the tank leaning in so he was level with your face, almost willing you to wake up and look at him but you didn’t. You weren’t ready. His hand slipped down the tank before withdrawing completely, his feet backing up slowly so he could keep his gaze on you, casting one more longing look at you before exiting the room and closing the door just as Hux reappeared.

“What are you doing?” He snapped, his green eyes blazing.

“Leaving,” stated Kylo, sweeping past the General and vanishing from sight.

Hux released a breath, he had no doubt Ren had been in your room and he felt the flush of anger that he had seen you before Hux even had a chance. He stood outside the closed door, his emotions hurricaning inside him as he reached for the controls. He should go in, he had every right to see you and yet he couldn’t bring himself to enter. He hated that room, it now will forever be the room where you nearly left his world and he backed up a step. He hated feeling this conflicted, he fought the rise of emotion that threatened to fill his chest, his face scrunching up in anger at himself. He didn’t even recognise himself anymore, his father was right. Women were trouble, they made you do things you would never normally do. They twisted you into another person entirely. Hux backed up again. You would probably prefer to wake up with Ren at your side anyway. He turned, refusing to spare anymore time on pining for you or thinking about how you were clearly moving on with another man. He had work to do.

The first thing you noticed was how warm you felt, a cosiness wrapped around your body and you snuggled down in the cushiony covers. It wasn’t until your brain engaged, hazy memories of drinking and Hux frantically calling your name made you sit bolt upright, your heart pounding.

“You’re awake.” You turned to see him sit forward on his chair at your bedside, his dark hair framing his tired face.

“Kylo…” you looked around the room, it seemed familiar but different at the same time and you frowned. “Where am I?”

“Hux had these quarters cleared for you, so you could recover without interruption.” You hated those words. Hux had kicked you out of his quarters in the disguise of you getting better in peace. You splintered, a soft “Oh,” sounded from your mouth and you dragged the covers closer suddenly feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

“Are you hungry?”

“I—erm I guess.” You swallowed nervously and turned back to look at the Supreme Leader. “Where is he?” The muscle under Kylo’s eye twitched, the creak of his gloves as he fisted his hands broke the still moment.

“We are chasing the Resistance down, following up on some leads as to where they might be. He is overseeing that.” Of course. Working. You stared into space when Kylo got up, you barely noticed he left until he returned with a plate of food. You took a slice of bread picking off a piece to nibble lost in your swirling thoughts. “I’m sure he will be along to see you when he’s free.” Kylo said softly and you couldn’t stop the snort that was pushed out of your nose. “I can order him…” you held up a hand.

“Don’t order him, he needs to want to be around me. If you force him it will just make everything worse.” Kylo shifted in his seat, clearly wanting to say something but not sure how to broach the subject.

“Does he?” You looked up at the quiet question. “Because last I saw…” your arm jerked a little as Kylo ghosted a hand over where your bruises had been. “He is not taking care of you as a husband should be.”

“We are still finding our feet,” you mumbled. “What happened to me?”

“Do you really want the details?” He asked softly.

“Yes. I need to know.” He moved and settled on the bed facing you, one leg cocked over the covers the other planted firmly on the floor. He reached for your hand and you let him take it, feeling the callouses that protruded making his skin rough and the complete opposite to Hux’s.

“You were poisoned,” his eyes locked with yours as you inhaled sharply at the news. “We caught the Resistance member and dealt with him accordingly,” you saw the darkness spread across his gaze. “He won’t be troubling us anymore.”

“How long…?”

“A week and a few days. You were taken out of the bacta yesterday.” Your mind boggled at the amount of time lost and his hand squeezed yours in a comforting gesture. “Hux did what he could for you. The Knights and I found the antidote but you nearly died.” You felt tears brimming, Hux must have been beside himself….so you hoped but that doubt whispered in your mind. You remembered his panicked tone before you passed out though and you clung to that.

“What happened to the Resistance member? Who was he?” Kylo looked down, watching his fingers gently spread yours with his own.

“His name was Temmin Wexley.”

“Was?” You interjected.

“The Knights…I’m not sure how much detail you want here.” He finished gruffly.

“Is he dead?” His hazel eyes dragged to magnetise with yours.

“Yes,” he stated firmly, watching the grim look cross your face.

“Do we know why? Why me?” Kylo’s expression softened, his brows knitting together in concern and he leaned forward slightly.

“You were not the target.” Oh. Your fingers gripped his at his words, realising that there were people out there trying to murder your husband. Your chest expanded abruptly but you leaned back when he went to wrap an arm around you.

“I’m alright.” Kylo sighed and he stood, your hands detangling. You watched him, grateful that he had been here when you woke. His amber gaze roamed over your upturned face as though devouring your features and he was a man starved of them. “Are you close to finding the Resistance? Will this war be over soon?” You asked, a hint of a plea in your voice. You hadn’t contemplated your future much but if you could get Hux away from the battles, the constant darkness that war spread, maybe he’d soften around the edges. But that was just a dream. Kylo bent down, his hand swiftly cupping your face, his lips warm as he planted a kiss against your cheek. He didn’t pull away immediately, letting his cheek press against your skin, his presence surrounding you for a moment before straightening up, his fingertips trailing across your cheek and catching the edge of your lips before turning away.

“I will let you know if anything changes,” he told you in a low tone, sweeping from your quarters like a dark shadow.

You finished the food, placing the plate in the living area and you looked at the crate that was sitting there. You pulled out fresh clothes, noting a few items were missing and wondered if Hux had left them on purpose. Or maybe someone else had packed your stuff. The shower was blissful, washing away the remnants of what had happened, your body felt well though. You weren’t plagued by fatigue or any aches considering what you’d been through.

You checked the time, seeing it was late by ship standards even though you weren’t tired, your fingers rapped haphazardly on the top of your table as you toyed with the idea of heading and getting the rest of your things from Hux’s quarters. There was a very slim chance he was there anyway, but if he was maybe you could talk? You had almost died and all you wanted to do was have him hold you, and not at arms length anymore. Your mind was made up, the corridor was silent, the lights dim just barely offering enough for you to see your way to Hux’s quarters.

You let yourself in, the lights were on the lowest setting here and frustration curled inside you. The quarters were I masculine as always, you debated sitting at the table and waiting for him when a light from the bedroom caught your eye and hope sparked in your chest.

The door slid open and you stepped into the bedroom seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He looked up, surprise showing for a moment before he managed to disguise it.

“I thought you’d be staying in your quarters I had put aside for you.” He sounded genuinely astonished to see you in his space.

“As far as I’m concerned these are my quarters, if that’s agreeable…” you trailed off. You wanted to be assertive but there was always that doubt with him, you never knew where the line was drawn.

“Yes, I just assumed you wanted space,” he murmured. You took a step closer seeing him eye you wearily out of his peripheral vision, his posture straightened and his hands came to rest on his thighs. You nibbled your bottom lip, tentatively reaching out to trail your fingertips over his shoulder. You needed to feel him, you’d almost died and now you wanted nothing more than to feel alive.

You traced his side profile with your eyes, memorising every tiny detail like the ridge of his ear, the way his hair settled perfectly just behind it. The faint colour of stubble that littered his pale skin, freckles dotted over the bridge of his nose and his coiffed hair had come loose slightly so a single bright strand now hovered near his eye, with more slowly following. You applied pressure to his shoulder, letting him know you were there, your lips parted slightly in anticipation when he didn’t move away.

Heat burned like an extra layer under your skin, coating your body in a fire that only he could satisfy. You watched him swallow harshly and you hoped he was as tortured as you were right now. Subtly your thighs pressed together under your dress, already you were damp, craving his touch but to your disappointment he still didn’t move.

A little sigh escaped from you and your hand dropped away, the material of your dress ruffling softly as you headed to the refresher grabbing some night clothes that had been left in his room on your way. You got changed in private, your heart heavy with thoughts of your marriage breaking down. If it broke down you’d have to return to Arkanis and no one would want you, the derelict house would just contain you and your father, with only the ghosts of happier times for company. You smoothed down the material of your night dress, straightening the straps before activating the door. You jumped slightly as the light from the refresher fell on Hux, he was standing outside of the door, hands behind his back and his head bowed as he waited.

“I’m s-sorry…” you stuttered slightly.

“No.” He sounded angry and you frowned in confusion not sure what was happening. He stepped towards you driving you back into the refresher until your back slammed against the wall.

“Armitage…” he placed a hand next to your head and leaned in close. His other hand came up to ghost along your lips, his breath fanning over your face as he watched his fingertips trace the lines of your features. Your heart hammered inside you until it felt like your entire body was vibrating with the force of it.

“No…” he whispered. “I-I am sorry.” You went to speak, your surprise evident at his apology but his hand moved and grabbed your chin, his gaze fixed on your lips avoiding your eyes. “Are you really here?” He whispered.

“Yes, I am here,” you replied, reaching up and digging your fingers into his arm. “I’m really here.” His kiss was fierce as he slotted his lips over yours, the grip on your face tightened when he applied more pressure making you moan softly. The heat that had died down before came flaring back, breaking out across your skin in rivers of fire.

He adjusted his position, bringing his free hand to curl around your neck pinning you to the wall, a soft gasp from you escaped into his mouth. The hand around your chin relaxed, sliding over your shoulder and swiping the flimsy strap down your arm until the nightdress slipped enough to expose your chest. He cupped the curve of your breast as his tongue still ravished the velvety cavern of your mouth, stealing the breath from your lungs. You felt light headed but grounded at the same time, highly aware of the feel of his skin on yours, the rub of his uniform against your exposed nipple sent ripples through your body. His long fingers massaged the pliant flesh almost pushing you harder against the wall, his thumb flicked over the hardening nub and you jolted against him, a gentle cry sucked from your mouth to his.

His lips broke away to heavily kiss your cheek, a trail of saliva cool against your heated skin. You took the opportunity to breathe, your chest expanding as his hand slipped down the curve of your body. His fingers were unforgiving, digging in hard enough to make you cry out but all you heard was him huffing erratically in your ear. His fingers found the hem of your gown, slowly dragging the soft material out of his way to splay his large hand over your pubic bone.

You swallowed a whine, your body canting into him of its own accord, his hair now completely dishevelled swept across the side of your face as his lips trailed kisses across your shoulder and the curve of your neck. His hand slipped down, his movements jerky and uncontrolled, almost painful as though he was trying to imprint the very fabric of your body onto his own.

His fingers swiped along your slit dragging the wetness from you and coating your folds with it, his breath hitched, a rough gasp warming your skin for a brief moment before he plunged two fingers into you.

You weren’t prepared, even though the invasion was welcome, your cunt instantly clenched around him and more of your spend leaked out coating his fingers, you still moaned through the burn. Your head fell back into the wall as his teeth grazed the perspiring flesh of your shoulder, feeling the way your body shuddered against him. He dragged his fingers out slowly, giving no warning when he pressed them back up into you, his teeth marking you at the same time.

Your cries rang loudly in the hollowness of the refresher as each pump of his hand had you almost climbing the wall, your toes complaining when your weight was transferred to them in an effort to take what he was giving. White spots erupted in your vision from the action of him curling his fingers, your hand clawing at his uniform as you tried to find a purchase to cling onto, your head now falling forward to his shoulder, his body crowding you completely. He needed to be close to you, he needed to feel each breath that expelled from your body, he needed to feel the vibrations of your cries as you keened loudly for him. He desperately wanted to feel each minute ripple of pleasure that made your walls flutter around his fingers. The sound of your wet cunt had him hardening in his trousers, an ache so deep he almost stopped what he was doing just to bury himself inside you. He had to feel the life that coursed through your veins, he had to be sure, so he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

You were real, you were here.

You hips ground shamelessly on his hand, your gyrating body rubbed against his crotch and he shoved his hips to grind on your thigh, allowing himself the friction his cock was crying out for. He could feel you were close, the pitch of your cries and the way your cunt sucked his fingers in even deeper told him you were ready to come undone. His hand tightened around your throat, his teeth once again grazing your shoulder. The need to mark you and remind you that you were his wife raged inside him, the possessiveness he felt of you in this moment made him feel powerful. In control. The next curl of his fingers had his name tearing violently from your lips. Your body tried to fold in on itself as your muscles spasmed in ecstasy. You clutched him, pinching his skin through his uniform but he didn’t flinch or recoil, he embraced the pain you gave him, because you were here. Alive.

He withdrew slowly, watching the soft flicker in your expression, the way your lips were sucked into your mouth only to come out more plush and kissable. Your lashes rested delicately against your cheek, you were glowing, a thin sheen of sweat coated your entire body and you were the most beautiful he had ever seen you. He brought his hand to his mouth, sucking the remains of you off his fingers, never taking his gaze away from your face so he could see your eyes flutter open to gaze at him. Your pupils were blown wide from the pleasure that had just encompassed your entire being making your irises just a sliver of colour. He moved the hand from your throat, moving his thumb to press against your lips, his cock twitching as you sucked it effortlessly into your mouth. He brought his face closer to you, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as he basked in the feel of your hot, wet mouth around his digit.

His head was filled with all the ways he wanted to possess you, he needed you cumming on his cock but he also wanted to take his time. He was too slow in his thoughts, your teeth grazed his thumb and you moved. Pushing him but keeping contact with his body you guided him back into the bedroom almost shoving him roughly so he was sitting on the bed. He watched you, every movement you made had him sweating, the look in your eyes made him bite his own lip. You crouched down, running your hands heavily up his thighs to the fastenings on his trousers, your fingers deftly undoing them with ease. His own hands moved, removing his tunic and top, for once having no reservations about being naked before you. His hips rose off the bed for a moment and you yanked his bottoms off with a rough movement that had him gasping in anticipation. He went to reach for you, his hands greedy in their grabbing, the gown getting in the way. You were standing between his legs but he wanted you closer and he pulled on your thighs.

Your hands settled on his shoulders, one leg after the other slowly rested either side of his body and you sat deeply in his lap. He groaned at the dampness of your skin, feeling your slick as you settled yourself over the length of his cock. He wanted to be inside you, but first he had to remove this gown. You lifted your arms up and he slipped it over you with ease, his mouth and hands falling to your exposed breasts. Your hands entangled in his bright hair, your hips rolling against the heated, silky skin of his cock and he shuddered, gasping heavily against the salty taste of your soft body.

He felt you flinch when he bit you, easing the pain with a lick from his tongue, his hands moving in a bruising way up the sides of your body to move round and cover your back, bringing you closer and more forcefully into his mouth. A moan erupted from your exposed neck as your head fell back, your bodies melding together like they were made for each other. You rolled your hips again feeling the tip of him slip into your dripping entrance and you both heaved a groan at the sensation. You widened your hips, taking him inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt, creating an ache in your lower belly, he was so deep inside you. His lips caressed your neck, his large hand covering one side of your face as he cradled you, his other hand needy as he dug it into your back almost massaging you. Your hands pulled his head as close to you as he could get, feeling the tension in his neck and shoulders, the shudder that ran down his spine as you bucked your hips accentuating the ache inside you and making him moan.

You pulled back, bringing your body back to meet his with a soft slap, a grin alighting your face as his hands got even more needy in their grabbing. You picked up the pace, his panting and the clumsy feel of his lips fed the desire that bloomed inside you. Every noise and soft huff that emitted from him had you burning up, you needed more from him. Your hips moved with more urgency, his hands falling to grab the supple roundness of your ass rocking you against him with more force. His own urgency drived you to keep going with the punishing tempo.

His lips roughly connected with yours, teeth clashing and tongues fighting as you gasped into each other’s mouths. Your fingers dug into his scalp, your arms tensing with each thrust against him, your chest colliding with his. The wetness of your bodies mingled, the slapping sound of your sex disturbed the quiet of the room and you both got lost in the intense feel of each other. Your pace faltered but his hands did not, he was so close you could feel him pulsing inside you, swelling and getting ready to fill you as much as he could. Your cunt clamped down on him, the cries building in your chest as the coil wound tightly in your lower belly. Each time he brought you forcefully down onto his lap your face contorted with pleasure as he nudged that special spot at the front of your fluttering walls.

His cries punctuated yours, his pale skin flush from the exertion of your movements. You chased that need for release, you wanted to come undone on top of him, the need to feel him unravel below you had you hanging over the edge of that cliff. He found his peak first, the warmth of him spilling inside you pushed you over that last hurdle. He rocked you softly into him, carrying you both through the waves of pleasure that spun both your worlds. Every pulse from him sent a fresh tremor through you, dragging out your orgasm until it felt like your body was going to snap before it sagged heavily against his firm chest. He collapsed backwards onto the bed, breathing heavily through his nose and wrapping his arms around you hugging you close.

His heart was pounding against the side of your face and you zoned out to the sound, cuddled into him enjoying the feel of him still inside you. You never wanted this to end, you wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped in your blissful feelings shutting the world out. If only moments like this lasted

[agustdakasuga]

A Place Called Home | Chapter 4

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

You try to visit Taehyung as much as you can, wanting him to be home with you as quickly as possible, but suddenly, your own exhaustion catches up with you, causing you to stay home. But at the same time, a certain wolf begins to show signs of consciousness

After you finished visiting Taehyung, you headed back home. Hospital shifts were getting longer and going to visit Taehyung afterwards was taking a toll on you. You were getting burned out. 

“Jagi?” Jin came down the stairs. You shot him a tired smile but your legs slowly gave out. Luckily Jin had quick reflexes and was able to catch you in time. His eyes widened in panic as he scooped you up into his arms, bringing you to the couch. 

“Jagi? Can you hear me?” He asked worriedly. You let out a soft hum. Bringing his hand to your head, he felt your slightly raised temperature. 

“You’re having a fever, jagi. Wait here.” Jin left you to go get a thermometer. The front door opened, signalling Yoongi’s return to the house. Your vision blurred slightly, eyes opening and closing. 

“Kitten!” Yoongi saw your state and rushed to your side. 

“You’re sick.” He frowned. 

“I’m fine.” You smiled. Jin came back with a thermometer and some fever medication. He placed the stick into your mouth and waited. The moment there was a beep, Yoongi took it out. He frowned when he read the temperature. You were definitely sick, he didn’t need a thermometer to tell him that. He could smell it from you the moment he walked in. 

“I just need to sleep.” You sat up. 

“Kitten, you’re not fine! I told you not to over exhaust yourself. Let’s bring her to the hospital for an IV.” Yoongi told Jin, who nodded in agreement. You protested but Jin was already carrying you up, Yoongi grabbed the car keys. 

“You’re over reacting.” You chuckled. 

“No, that’s what you get for not taking care of yourself. You’re not superwoman, jagi.” Jin frowned. You pouted but snuggled into Jin for warmth as you shivered slightly. 

“Dr (y/l/n)?” Head nurse Park was shocked to see your hybrids carrying you in. She signalled to the others to bring a gurney in. Two other nurses hurried over, letting Jin put you down on the bed. He laid his cardigan over you as you shivered from the lost of his body heart.

“She’s sick and slowly losing consciousness. Can we get her an IV?” Yoongi asked. 

“Of course. Follow us.” She told the worried boys as the nurses wheeled you to a private room. You didn’t even make it to the room conscious. On the way there, your eyes closed and you slowly slipped into darkness. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The constant beeping woke you up. You frowned, annoyed by the sound before opening your eyes. Looking around, you remembered that you were checked into the hospital by Yoongi and Jin, having passed out from exhaustion. Yoongi was sleeping next to you, head buried in his folded arms as he held your hand. Jin was curled up on the small couch, a blanket over him. 

“My boys.” You stroked Yoongi’s head, waking him up. He yawned and stretched his limbs. 

“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“I’m fine, Yoongi. Sorry to worry you two.” You smiled, continuing to stroke his head, his furry ears between your fingers. 

“You better be sorry. I told you to take care of yourself and not over work yourself. You do everything on your own without letting me and Jin hyung help you. And look what happened, (y/n).” Yoongi frowned, crossing his arms. He was really upset with you. 

“I know, Yoongi. I’m sorry.” You apologised again. Yoongi looked at your guilt ridden face and sighed, leaning in to nuzzle your neck. You combed your fingers through his hair, making him purr in satisfaction. 

“Jagi?” Jin sat up from his couch, rubbing his eyes as he let out a big yawn. You smiled, opening your other arm. Jin shuffled over, pressing his face into the other side of your neck. 

“Head nurse Park is never going to let this go.” You groaned. 

“Good. I hope she constantly reminds you of this.” Yoongi smirked, making you shove his shoulder. 

“Doc?” Speak of the devil, head nurse Park came in, making the two boys pull away from you. Their eyes trained on the older lady. She held your file in her hand, frowning at you and shaking your head. You let out a whine, making your two hybrids smile in triumph.

“Dr (y/l/n), you’re lucky you had your hybrids at home to bring you here. I am always telling you that yes, hybrids’ health are important and I know you want to help them but your health should be the first priority.” She lectured.

“Yes, head nurse Park.” You pouted. 

“Anyway, I don’t come with good news for you. Your labs came back and your blood count is low. You’re anaemic so we’ll have to keep your here for another day.” She informed. 

“Noooooo!” You fake cried. 

“Ha! Good for you!” Jin crossed his arms, reaching over to hi five Yoongi. You glared at them. 

“Wait, is there any cause for her anaemia?” Yoongi stood up. 

“Not for sure. Could be exhaustion, missing meals, anything.” Head nurse Park shrugged. As she listed the reasons, Yoongi turned around and shot you the dirtiest glare ever, making you whimper and shrink back. Despite being a doctor, you were the worse patient. You didn’t want to stay in the hospital, you wanted to go home. 

“If you promise not to do anything strenuous, you can go home.” Nurse Park said. 

“You can count on that, I have two wardens at home that will watch me.” You side eyed the two hybrids that stood on either side of you. 

“Alright. I’ll bring your discharge papers. Also, director wanted you to take a week off. She wanted to make sure that you’re in good health before you come back.” She informed. 

“A WEEK?!” Your thoughts immediately went to the wolf hybrid that was still in the intensive care unit. You had to find a way to still check on him even if you were not allowed to return to the hospital. But nonetheless, you nodded your head and signed your discharge papers. 

“Can I just stop by to see how he is?” You asked Yoongi before you could leave. He looked at Seokjin before the two of them nodded, following you to the ICU ward. 

‘Kim Namjoon’

You could finally put a name on the patient name plate on the door. You knocked lightly before going in. Thanks to his hybrid wolf side, his healing was a lot faster than others. His superficial injuries was mostly gone, making it seem like he was just sleeping. 

“He should wake up soon. It’s not good for him to be under for so long. But I guess he’ll have to hang on for another week.” You sighed. 

“We should go.” Yoongi came to you. You nodded and followed your boys out. Just as the door closed, there was a crash from the room. You met eyes with Yoongi and rushed back in. 

“Stay back!” Namjoon growled, showing his canines. 

“Okay, I’ll stay back Namjoon. Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You held your hands out. 

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” His back was hunched, tail rigid. He was in attack mode and you knew better than to try and provoke him. Yoongi stayed by you while you motioned for Seokjin to leave and get the nurses in here. Namjoon’s eyes shifted from you to Yoongi, trying to yank out the tubes and machines that were attached to him. 

“Namjoon, let her help you. You’ll do more harm trying to remove that yourself.” Yoongi spoke. 

“Yoongi? Min Yoongi?” Namjoon stared at him. Yoongi nodded his head. 

“I thought you were dead.” Namjoon scoffed. 

“I would be if it weren’t for her. Same for you. Come on, we’re brothers. You can trust me. She won’t hurt you. She just wants to help, she’s a doctor.” Yoongi persuaded. Namjoon glared at you but nodded. Yoongi’s tailed curled around your waist, seeing how shaken you were. 

“I’m fine.” You forced a smile. With shaky hands, you proceeded to remove all the machinery and IV needles from Namjoon’s body before stepping back. 

“What happened to you?” Namjoon asked Yoongi. 

“They left me for dead. She isn’t like those humans that we encountered, trust me. After she saved me and nursed me back to health, I let her become my owner.” Yoongi explained. 

“You’ve become domesticated?” 

“Beats being injected with steroids and hormones then thrown in a cage to fight to death.” Yoongi shrugged. You winced at his statement, hating illegal hybrid rings. Yoongi held your hand, squeezing it to help you breathe and remain calm. The door behind you opened and Namjoon immediately got on defence again. 

“Director!” You bowed. From the way your addressed her, Yoongi guessed that this lady was your boss. 

“How are you feeling, dear?” She asked. 

“I’m fine, madam. Please don’t worry.” You bowed your head.

“Good job taking care of Namjoon while he was recovering. He looks mostly recovered. I read your permission request. Considering that Namjoon is awake and your hybrid does know him, I will grant you permission to let him continued recovering from your home.” She nodded her head.

“Thank you!” You smiled and Yoongi let out a sigh of relief. Namjoon frowned at the director’s words. 

“Did anyone ask me what I wanted to do? For all I know, you could keep me at your house for your own illegal business.” Namjoon scowled. 

“Of course we will take your opinion into consideration, Namjoon. If you’re not comfortable with Ms (y/l/n) and her hybrids at her home, we can send you to a shelter. Unfortunately, you cannot leave yet as you have not fully recovered. You just woke up from a two week coma, we will need to monitor you closely.” The director said. 

“Fine. I’ll go.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you-”

“I’m not saying I trust you or anything. But seeing as Yoongi is there and shelters are too noisy, it’s choosing which hell is worse.” Namjoon glared. Yoongi hissed slightly, not happy with Namjoon attitude towards you. 

“It’s okay. Let’s go, hmm?” You put a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, feeling a wave of giddiness. Yoongi and Seokjin must have sensed this because Seokjin proceeded to put his arm around you to steady you. You just had to do some quick paper work and get Namjoon’s file. The nurse put it in a dark blue folder with yellow crescent moons on it.

“This is your room." You brought him up the stairs. Namjoon peaked into the room. 

“I have my own room already?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course, you’re entitled to your own privacy here. And I already prepared it because Yoongi asked if you could stay here when you woke up so I just got it ready for whenever. I’m sorry if it’s not to your liking. We can go shopping to get what you need.” You nodded. 

“Why are you doing this?” Namjoon asked. 

“Huh?” You looked up at him. 

“Nothing.” He shook his head. You shrugged and heard Yoongi calling for you to head to bed so you could begin your week long rest. 

“Alright! You’re such a nag, Min Yoongi!” You shouted before smiling at Namjoon. 

“It’s Seokjin’s turn to cook dinner so until then, you can do what you want.” You gave him another smile before bowing your head and walking away. Namjoon closed the door to his room and shook his head, a human has never smiled at him before. Yet, you bowed your head and are providing him food and a place to stay until he recovered. 

“What a peculiar human.” He scoffed and went to take a shower. Namjoon was woken up from his nap by arguing downstairs. 

“You guys will wake Namjoon.” You frowned. Namjoon stood at the top of the staircase, listening and watching. 

“We’re just asking that you rest one day, snowflake.” Jin shook his head. Yoongi was sitting on the other end of the couch, arms folded, a frown on his face. He was not happy, he was very ticked off. 

“I need to see him. He’s alone with his captor possibly in the next room. He’s scared.” You said. 

“Do you think it would make him feel better if you go visit him and collapse right in front of him? You can always go tomorrow, kitten.” Yoongi sighed. You wanted to go see Taehyung like you did everyday but of course, considering the events from today, the two hybrids didn’t want to let you go. 

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Coming.” You stood up and went to open. Even Namjoon perked up when he heard you unlocking the front door. 

“Good evening, madam. I’m here to send your hybrid home.” The officer said, looking bored as hell. Beside him, Taehyung stood there, with a collar around his neck and leash was hooked on, which the officer was carrying. You frowned at that. Who still put hybrids on leashes? They are people!

“Taehyung.” You called and he looked up, eyes watery as he leapt into your arms. 

“Why was he on a leash?” 

“He’s a wild animal, madam.” The officer reasoned. 

“You have no right to call him that. He didn’t commit any crime. He was called in as a witness. I don’t see you doing this to other witnesses.” You glared at him. The police were supposed to be protecting everyone, hybrid or not. You were disgusted with this man. 

“Madam, it’s a small issue. He’s already back here, isn’t he?” He rolled his eyes. 

“I’m reporting this to officer Jooyeon. I will not let this go.” You saw the small officer’s face pale slightly as pulled Taehyung with you, slamming the door in his face. You were angry but your priority now was a shaken Taehyung. 

“(y/n)...” He whimpered as you sat down on the couch, keeping your arms around him. He buried his face into your neck. 

“It’s alright, baby. You’re home. I’m sorry you even had to go through a second of that. That was wrong.” You hushed him, stroking the space between his ears. From the posture of Seokjin and Yoongi, you knew that they were angry too. Leashes and collars were downgrading. The government had already said there was no need to leash hybrids. 

“Are you hungry? Jin cooked.” You asked. 

“Yeah...” He nodded. You smiled and held his hand, bringing him to the kitchen. Jin gave Taehyung a hug while Yoongi ruffled his hair. Taehyung gave them a small smile. You were happy at their attempts to comfort him.

“Stranger.” Taehyung’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, Namjoon. You’re here. This is Taehyung, we’re fostering him. Taetae, this is Namjoon. He’s friends with Yoongi and he’ll be staying with us as he recovers.” You explained. The two gave each other acknowledging nods. Namjoon sat next to Yoongi.

“Here. More red meat and greens for your iron deficiency.” Jin slid the plate over to you. You pouted, nodding. 

“You’re sick? No wonder you smelled different.” Taehyung held your hand worriedly. 

“I’m fine. You know these two over react.” You chuckled. As always, Yoongi took your plate and sliced your steak for you. You grinned and knocked foreheads with him, beginning to eat. It was way too much that you tried to sneak some to Taehyung. 

“Ahem.” Yoongi cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at you. Taehyung blinked in confusion, not even noticing that extra meat had been added. Your cheeks turned red. 

“I didn’t give you more steak for you to give it all to Tae. You need to eat more, snowflake.” Jin frowned, proceeding to give you some of his steak. After dinner, everyone helped with clearing up, except Jin, who cooked. The boys had only let you wiped the table. 

“I’m heading into the backyard with Namjoon for a walk.” Yoongi wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple. 

“Namjoon, is it okay if I look at your injuries? I just want to make sure there is no infection.” You asked. Namjoon stiffened at your question, he was obviously still guarded around you. 

“Fine. Yoongi.” He looked at the panther. You all went up to Namjoon’s room and he lifted his shirt, showing you the main abdominal scar where the life ending cut was meant to be. Seeing the faint line where the stitches was, Yoongi hissed, remembering his own scar that was there but now faded. He looked away, tail curling itself around your ankle. 

“It’s looking good. No sign of infection.” You smiled when you finished checking his other injuries. 

“Let’s go.” Namjoon said to Yoongi and they left. You went back to your room, seeing Taehyung stand by the door to wait for you. The hybrids knew you didn’t really like them going in when you weren’t in there. 

“Come on.” You led him into the room and went to shower. He waited for you in bed, having already showered. When you came out, however, you went to see Jin first. 

“Goodnight Jinnie.” You smiled, entering his cold room. 

“Goodnight, snowflake.” He kissed your cheek and nuzzled it. As you left, you turned off the lights and headed back to Taehyung. Taehyung almost pounced on you when you returned. You laid in bed and he was quick to attach himself to you, purring as you massaged his scalp.

“Tell me why you’re sick.” Taehyung said. 

“I’m not sick, Tae. Don’t worry. I was just careless and didn’t take care of myself, as I should be. The doctor just said I needed to eat better and rest more. So I’ll be home the whole week.” You sighed as you informed. 

“So you’ll be with me the whole week?!” He perked up, a smile finally appearing on his face. 

“Yes. My boss forced me to take a week off. Besides, Namjoon is here so I don’t have to worry as much. He woke up just as I was leaving the hospital this morning. Call it fate, I guess.” You giggled. 

“I miss you and the hyungs so much while I was there. I missed your cuddles, Jin hyung’s cooking and Yoongi hyung’s explanations of basketball, even though I don’t even have an interest in basketball.” He said and you couldn’t help but smile softly. Taehyung was integrating well into your family, much faster than you even expected. 

“I’m glad to hear you like it here, Tae.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I know Yoongi doesn’t really show it but he also cares for you. He’s just guarded, you know?” You stroked his ears. 

“I know. Yoongi hyung helped me with my nightmares. He promised me I would never have to go back, like you.” He said. You were a little surprised, not knowing that Yoongi did such a nice thing for Taehyung but you expected it. Yoongi was nice, even if he doesn’t like you saying that he has a soft heart. 

“(y/n)?” Taehyung called. You hummed in reply. 

“Can I...” He stopped halfway, making you look at him. You noticed that his human ears and cheeks were red. 

“Scent me?” You completely with a laugh. He nodded like a child that was caught doing something bad. 

“Come here.” You gestured as you nodded. Taehyung cautiously moved to press his face into your neck. You gently caressed the back of his neck. He purred lightly, his orange and black tail curling itself around your thigh as his hands squeezed your waist lightly. Slowly, he moved to nuzzle your cheek like a a house cat would. 

“You smell like me.” He blushed as he pulled away, resting his head against your chest comfortably. 

“Goodnight, Tae.” 

“Goodnight, (y/n).” He pressed his lips against your forehead before the both of you fell asleep.

[blossomingimagines]

Fall Again

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff 

Word Count: 3,856

Summary:

Notes: I hope this what you were looking for.

Warnings: Depressive thoughts and talks of dying.

The faint sound of buzzing filled your ears as the man sitting before you droned on and on. His words are meaningless beyond the first sentence. ‘The tests came back positive, I’m sorry, you have cancer.’ Words that had instantly filled you with a certain hollowness you had never expected. As if your entire being tried to comprehend the words. As your mind tried to wrap itself around the idea that you were dying. Causing everything else to simply fade away into a static background. Simple white-noise to your predestined existence. Even still bits and pieces slice through like knives. Cutting you open to the world that you would never experience in the same way again. Leaving you exposed and bleeding without any semblance of protection. 

The sound of the hospital filtered through your ears. Shuffling of feet and the distant voices of doctors and nurses speaking to one another. An overabundance of cheer and hope floating through the halls like air, but you could now detect the underlying sense of despair. The darkness that festered beneath the light pretenses of the spotless halls. A feeling that only seemed to come to the dying. The beautiful lies become a painful truth. You simply stared straight ahead at all the degrees hanging proudly on the wall. All mocking you, because no matter how many awards your doctor may have-- nothing could ever truly cure you. Nothing could stop your body from tearing itself apart. Nothing could stop the suffering you were going to experience. His words mean nothing more to you than the mindless chatter you hear on the subway. 

‘I believe we caught it early, which is a good sign.’

‘You’re going to have to start radiation immediately.’

‘If we don’t get ahead of this thing… I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do.’

Turning, you finally meet the warm gaze of the man that was trying to save your life. Your mouth opens in hopes that your brain just knew what to say. That a few simple words would stop the spinning of the room. That your entire world would make sense again. 

Nothing came out. 

You simply stared at the man, with your mouth slightly open, as silence settled over the two of you. An oppressive silence that spoke more than either of you ever could. Brown eyes staring into yours with compassion and understanding. Lowering your head, you could feel the way your body seemed to wilt. Your shoulders slumping as you canted forward. Normally graceful hands, fumbling to get a grip on your knees. Anything to keep you anchored. To keep your thoughts on the current moment. On what was happening right now. You didn’t want them to stray to your future. To what you knew was coming for you. 

You didn’t want to think about the fact that you were dying. That you would be dead sooner than you ever thought possible. 

You had always known that with the life you lived you more than likely wouldn’t live to see your elder years. But you had always thought you would at least go out on your terms. Either a fire-fight where you were protecting your team or protecting innocent life. You had never thought that the true enemy all along was your own body. That it had been biding its time to finally land a crippling strike-- God did it land one. 

Closing your eyes, you try to stem the oncoming tears. You hated to cry in public when you were near strangers. You hated to look weak to people that didn’t know you. To people that would judge with their own preconceived notions. Nothing was going to stop the onslaught, however. Not as images of the ones you loved came flashing across your mind. 

Tony’s snarky voice filtering through your ears as if he was in the room with you. His teasing tone filling you with warmth. He always knew how to make you forget all your troubles. 

Steve’s warm smile as he looked up at you over the newspaper. His blue eyes crinkling with happiness as he offered you a mug of coffee. Having learned how you liked it long ago.

Bruce’s calming presence as he sat beside you as you read. A companionable warmth shared between the two of you.

Thor’s booming laugh as you told him a joke that you had heard. Easy conversation passing between you both as you shared joke after joke-- as well as ale, of course. 

Clint’s grin as you cooked together. His shoulder bumping into yours with the ease of someone who had done it a hundred times over. 

Vision’s practical words always seemed to make you chuckle. As you always found his no-nonsense ways both endearing and amusing. 

Then Natasha and Wanda appeared and the choked feeling in your throat only grew. Their green eyes sparkling with all the love in the world. Wanda’s open grin filling you with the same amount of warmth as Natasha’s half-smile. The laughter that so easily flowed between the three of you. Your body naturally wedged between them both as you tried to get as close as possible-- though that never seemed to be close enough. 

Clenching your hands, you try to ignore the way your heart broke all over again. Try to ignore the fact that not only your heart was going to be broken by the end of the day. That the two women that held your heart had already lost too much. And now… they may lose you too. 

A simple fact that caused a choked sob to escape your mouth. You want nothing more than to go to a time where this was the simple case of the flu. When the only reason you had gone to the doctor was because of worried green eyes tracking you wherever you went. Even when you had done everything to reassure them that you were fine. Their worry, their fear, had been the tipping point. 

“How long?”

It took you a moment to realize you had been the one that spoke. As the voice that had broken through the silence sounded nothing like your own. It was weak… feeble… everything you strived not to be. And even as the question hung between the two of you, you weren’t sure you wanted an answer. You weren’t even sure what had caused you to ask in the first place. 

You weren’t sure about a lot of things anymore. 

“With what we’ve seen? I’m afraid that if you don’t start treatment as soon as possible you’ll be dead within a few months.” The words only cause your stomach to drop even more. “However, I am confident that we caught it early enough. That, with the treatment, you may be able to make a full recovery.” 

A sardonic smile twists your mouth. “And if I don’t? I’ll end up dying as something I’m not, right? A shell of who I used to be.” 

“Yes,” he agrees softly. “But would you rather take the chance of living? Or succumb to your body’s wishes of death?” 

His words echo like a mantra as you make your way back towards the Tower. Your eyes are taking in the landscape of New York City. The bustling of life that always permeated the streets. Whether it’s children pulling their parents excitedly to the next store or a businessman that was rushing to his next meeting-- New York City never seized in its constant state of motion. No matter what happened amid its confines nothing ever seemed to disturb that simple fact.

If you were to die tomorrow nothing would truly change. The shops would still open in the early recesses of the morning. Taxis and other means of transportation would still rush through the streets looking for passengers. There would still be the distant wails of ambulances on their way to the hospital. Life would go on as it always had. The world wouldn’t stand still simply because you were no longer in it. Even if yours had the moment you had heard the news. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you stand and follow the line of people that were getting off. Your feet touching the rough pavement of the sidewalk with a hollow thud. With your hands stuffed into the pockets of your coat, you make your way through the throngs of people. Ignoring some of the looks you received once people recognized who you were. You weren’t in the mood to socialize. You also weren’t in the mood to dismiss the people that looked up to you. You knew what it was like to be dismissed by the people who you used to idolize-- your own personal heroes. You didn’t want that to ever happen to anyone that felt the same way towards you. 

So, you just kept your head down and plowed through the bustling streets of New York. Towards the beckoning light of Avengers Tower. The great A situated on its side a beacon for home and safety. The dull echoing of your footsteps on the marble floor of the lobby as you bypass security. Your mind somewhere else entirely as you make your way up towards the communal floor of the Tower. Only the soft sound of the elevator pulled you out of your reverie. Announcing that you had arrived at your destination. 

Following the faint sounds of voices, your body follows the well-worn path to the kitchen. Taking in everything as you near the entrance-- trying to remember everything as it was before the fallout that you knew was about to happen. From the faint crack along the sidewall of the living room that had appeared when Thor had ‘tripped’ while playing Nerf Wars. To the many pictures that lined the walls-- from amusing candid's to group pictures from intimate affairs. The happiness that suffused the walls of the Tower was always present. 

You hated that you were about to taint it with the same underlying sense of darkness that the hospital held. Hated that your own body has betrayed you. 

You stop, just at the precipice of the room, and smile at what you see inside. Natasha at the counter cutting various vegetables while Clint stole as many as he could manage before she noticed. Steve at the stove as he continued on with a conversation with Bruce. Tony sitting at the island with a StarkPad in his hands-- no doubt tinkering with more ideas for the next Iron Man suit. Wanda and Vision were standing side-by-side as Wanda taught the android how to properly set the table. Laughter flowing between them all. It was a serene moment that you didn’t want to break. That you wanted to capture and live in forever, but all good things must come to an end eventually. 

It seems like this one had to the moment Vision noticed you standing at the doorway. His bright smile is an indicator that he was glad to see you. 

“I wasn’t aware you had returned. If I had I would have greeted you like I normally do, Y/N.” 

At the mention of your name, and Vision’s voice, the team turns and greets you with varying responses-- mostly cheers and grins. At their sudden attention, you take another step into the room. Offering a small smile towards Vision. Hoping that it would show that you didn’t mind he wasn’t waiting for you once you had returned. As you weren’t expecting to have lessons tonight either way. 

“It’s all right, Vis.” You shrug. “I wasn’t expecting you to.”

At your words, Vision’s eyes narrow ever-so-slightly as he detected the underlying stress that you were trying to hide. Something you knew he was about to comment on before Tony interrupted with a question directed towards the android. You never wanted to kiss a man more. 

Knowing that you needed to get some air, but not wanting to be rude, you turn towards Steve. “When will dinner be ready, Cap?” 

“Another thirty minutes,” he admits with a rueful smile. “It would have been finished sooner if Thor hadn’t eaten all the final touches for the meal. He’s out getting them right now.”

You flash a smile at him. “That’s all right, Steve. I think I’m going to go up and get changed. I feel a little grubby in these clothes.” 

He simply smiles back at you. Taking that as a sign to make a quick exit, you’re half-way out of the door before Bruce’s soft voice halts you. 

“So what did the doctor say?”

You shoot him a confused look over your shoulder. Trying to desperately appear neutral as all the attention of the room, once again, shifted towards you. 

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you go to the doctor today, má lásko?” Wanda steps from around the counter. A worried frown began to make its presence known on her beautiful face. The same expression that was starting to appear on Natasha’s. Something that you didn’t want at all. Your mind screeches at you to fix the situation you had suddenly found yourself in. You couldn’t tell them all right now. You could barely wrap your mind around it. You didn’t know if you could handle dealing with them trying to as well. 

“I have the flu,” you offer with a weak smile and a shrug. “A few days of rest and I should be as right as rain.” You turn your gaze towards Natasha and Wanda. Your eyes noticeably softening as you did so. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.” 

At your words, the team seemed to relax. The tense atmosphere, that you hadn’t even been aware of before now, dissipating as they all turned back to what they were doing. Sighing, softly, you quickly make your way out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards your room. 

Trying to ignore the feeling of two green gazes following you as you did so. 

The bright lights of New York City shone like the millions of stars that hung above it. Shimmering in the oncoming darkness that the night brought. The buildings, and the people, standing strong against the presence that many tried to avoid. Standing just beside the large window that made up a wall of your room, you could clearly see the nightcrawlers coming out down below. A completely different society awakening as the sun disappears behind the horizon. 

Having changed into fresh clothes, you felt slightly rejuvenated. As if the clothes you had been wearing were bars to a cell. Locking you in with the truth that you were trying desperately to come to terms with. Being out of them brought a small semblance of peace, of stability, that you had been searching for. The simple act allows your mind enough time to get its bearings once more. It may not have been the ground-breaking epiphany you were searching for but it was enough. For now. 

“Dorogoy?” A soft voice whispers from the entrance of the room. Your eyes slipping shut as the knowledge of their presence seeped into you. They have given you enough time to prepare yourself. You were a fool to think that they wouldn’t have noticed that something was wrong.

Turning, you meet their gazes with a tired smile. “Nat. Wanda. Is something the matter?” 

Your question causes both their eyes to flash. Whether it be in a warning or something else, you weren’t entirely sure. 

“I believe you have the answer to that question, Y/N,” Wanda says, her brow furrowing in concern. “We know that something is bothering you but we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what that is.” 

“We’re concerned,” Natasha admits, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Her green eyes shimmering with suppressed emotion as she stares at you. “What did the doctor really say to you?” 

A defeated feeling wells itself up in your chest. You know that you couldn’t lie to them. You had never been able to lie to them. Slumping forward, you move over to your bed and sit. A sigh escaping your mouth as they followed suit. Natasha settling on your right as Wanda settled on your left. Their hands immediately clasping yours in gentle, yet strong, holds. 

Your jaw clenches as you try to work up the courage to speak. Try to put the words you didn’t want to be true out there. To make them materialize as a reality instead of the nightmare you wished they were. 

“I have cancer.” 

The events that followed went by too fast for you to truly react. Natasha’s hands tightened around yours with a stricken look painting itself across her face. Wanda stood with fury written across her face, green eyes flashing red as she tried to control her powers, though you knew none of that fury was directed towards you. At least not yet. 

A soft hand on your cheek pulls your attention away from Wanda’s pacing. Your eyes taking in the pained expression on Natasha’s face. An almost desperate edge underlying it made you sick to your stomach. A quality that only resonated itself within her voice. Tears already forming in her emerald green orbs as reality came crashing down around you all. “They caught it early, right? There’s still a chance for you to beat it? Please tell me there’s still a chance. Tell us there’s still a chance to save you. That we won’t lose you.” 

Tears flow unbidden down your cheeks at her desperate pleas. At the faint sound of Wanda kneeling before you and pressing her forehead against your knees. The trembling you could clearly feel as her hands clasped onto your only available one. The tears you could already feel seeping through your leggings. You want nothing more than to take their pain away. To tell them that this was some horribly fucked up joke that Tony put you up to but you couldn’t. You couldn’t and that hurt you more than any bullet ever has. 

Your throat clenches around the words that try to escape your mouth. As you try to choke out the words through your despair. “Yes.” Natasha’s eyes lighten at your words and Wanda’s head raises from its position on your knees. “The doctor says that they caught it early but I’ll have to begin treatment right away.” 

“That’s good though, right?” Wanda murmurs, settling back onto her feet. Her wide eyes filled with so much hope. “You’ll just begin treatment and everything will be okay.”

At their expectant looks, you lower your gaze towards your lap. Your heart thudding against your chest as you tried to formulate what you wanted to say. But how could you tell the two people that made your life worth living that you weren’t going to have treatment? That you were letting everything rest and have the universe take its destined course. 

Your silence seemed to be all the answer Natasha needed, however. Her words filled with thinly-veiled fury. “You’re not going to go forward with the treatment.” 

“No.”

The silence that follows your feeble answer was even more oppressive than the one in the hospital. Both Natasha’s and Wanda’s hands tightening around yours as they processed your answer. Both their emotions heightening as each second ticked by. Swirling around the three of you like a vortex. Having them both stand suddenly pulls you out of your reverie. Your head snapping up to watch them both pace. Agitation is clear in each graceful movement of their bodies. 

Whipping around, Wanda snarls at you. “Why don’t you want treatment? It could save your life, Y/N.”

“And it could also make me a husk of who I am,” you cry, standing up from your bed. “We don’t know if the treatment will work and I refuse to die as something I’m not.”

“We don’t know that it will fail, Y/N.” Natasha cries back, equally as outraged as you were. “We don’t know what the future will hold. Except for the simple fact that you will die if you refuse treatment. It’s just a maybe right now.” 

Wanda steps forward with an anguished look on her face. “Please don’t sign your life away because of something you don’t even know will be the end result. Don’t make this into a certainty.” 

“Even if I do start treatment I will be completely useless to the team,” you hiss. “Who knows how long I’ll have to fight this until it goes into remission. I don’t want to be a burden on any of you.”

Natasha takes your face into her hands, her thumbs gently rubbing soothing circles on your cheeks. “Do you think they will care, Y/N? Do you think they won’t jump for joy when they find out that you’ve decided to fight? That they won’t be there for you every step of the way?”

“We’re a family, Y/N,” Wanda murmurs with a loving look shining in her eyes. “Family doesn’t let family fight their demons by themselves. You’re more to us, to them, than just a teammate. Nat and I love you with everything that we are. And you know the boys love you like a sister. They wouldn’t want you to just give up.”

“Yeah,” Natasha chuckles. “And I’m pretty sure you’re Vision’s surrogate mother.”

You laugh softly at her gentle teasing. Feeling warmth blossom in your chest for the first time since you had stepped foot in the hospital. “What about if I get too sick to take care of myself like I used to?” 

“We’ll be there, dorogoy,” Natasha whispers, one hand falling from your cheek as Wanda’s took its place. “When you fall we’ll always be there to pick you back up. Just like we know you’ll always be there for us.” 

Your eyes slip shut as the feeling of complete warmth and safety settles over you. Your world is finally beginning to make sense once more. Everything came back into focus as you were surrounded by Natasha and Wanda. The two people that knew how to set your heart on fire with emotions you never knew you could feel. 

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll begin treatment.” 

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know that they were smiling. Nor did you have to, to know that they were leading you towards the large bed. Easily pulling into the center with their bodies snugly pressed into both sides. Your nose nuzzling into Wanda’s neck as Natasha pressed herself firmly into your back. Both of their arms holding you in their warm embrace. 

All other thoughts slipping from your mind as you succumbed to the dark recesses of sleep. The only things that mattered were the two women that were holding you like you were the most valuable thing in the world to them. Their warmth better than anything a blanket could ever provide. The feeling of completeness overwhelming you as the darkness finally took hold. 

Your last thoughts being of the two women who would always be there to pick you back up again. 

No matter how many times you may fall.

[dindjarinbae]

All my Love (Din Djarin x Reader)

request from @buckythewhitewolfx :  Hi there! I love your writing! I saw that you are taking requests, so would you like to write a one shot of the mandalorian x reader where they have sex for the first time and Din is all shy, clumsy but also touch starved? You can decide the level of smut, nothing that will make you uncomfortable ❤ Thank you!

hi just a little warning, this is the first smut i’ve written in ages, so it is not the best. anyways this fic is 18+, so keep that in mind. it is part two to my previous din fic, so i’ll leave the link to part one below. anyways, i love soft din, i loved this. i am so sorry it took so long, i kept getting distracted, lol.

PART ONE

TW: brief fem!receiving oral, vaginal intercourse so it is fem!reader. this is 18+, so plese don’t read if this makes you uncomfortable.

WC: 4798

To say you were cold was an extreme understatement. You weren’t used to the coldness that came with hyperspace. It was a complete absence of heat, and while the Crest was temperature controlled, it wasn’t comfortably temperature controlled. Just enough to keep everyone on board alive. Now Din, ever so stoic, was unfazed by the cooler temperature, and the kid was tucked away in his little pod, bundled up warmly. And you? Freezing. Absolutely freezing while you sat on top of your bunk, a blanket draped around your shoulders while you shivered. The tip of your nose had turned adorably pink and the tips of your fingers as well. About twenty minutes more of the temperature making you freeze, you’d had enough. You kicked your legs over the side of the cot and you trudged your way up to the cockpit, making sure the blanket stayed with you at all times. You walked inside and stood there for a moment while the stars made streaks of light through hyperspace. Mando- or Din, you had to remind yourself- did not turn around or acknowledge your presence in any way. Typical. You huffed and brought your hand down on his chair once before moving it to clap down on the top of his helmet, but his hand was much faster and he gently caught your wrist between his fingers. “Is there something you came up here for or are you going to huff and puff like the kid?” He asked, his voice thick with annoyance, but you could tell it wasn’t real annoyance, even through the modulator. “Yes actually. It’s freezing cold and I guess I don’t know what I want you to do about it, but is there like... heat somewhere on this panel?” You asked and motioned towards the stretch of buttons in front of you. Din released your wrist and you pulled it back towards your chest, your cheeks turning pink from him this time instead of the cold hull. He shook his head and tilted it backwards just slightly. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they were on you, “No. Y/n, this is an old ship. There’s not heating,” he said, and you could hear the amusement in his tone. “Extra blankets? Clothes? Jackets? Coats? Cloaks? Anything?” You asked and sat down on the co-pilot seat next to him. Din just shrugged and was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, “There’s probably a few extra blankets in the storage compartment by the door,” he finally answered before turning back towards the window. You stayed there for a moment, watching the streaks of starlight glint off of his helmet and get endlessly replaced with new dashes of light. “Do you take it off up here? When you’re alone?” You asked without thinking. This question seemed to catch him off guard by the way he stiffened and held still for a long time before he gave one nod, “When you and the kid are asleep,” he answered and relaxed once again. “Do you like having it off?” He took his time answering this before sighing, the tail-end of it just catching through his modulator, “It’s... bittersweet. What’s got you so curious tonight?” He asked, turning his head towards you. “Oh. I was just wondering I guess. Did I make you uncomfortable?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth. Din just shook his head, taking notice of your pink nose, “Go get those blankets. If you want to come back up here, you’re welcome to. It’s warmer,” he stated and turned forward once more. Truth be told, he silently hoped you’d come back up to keep him company. He’d never admit aloud that he’d come to adore your constant talking. You nodded and shuffled out of the cockpit, only to return (to his absolute delight) a few moments later with the blankets wrapped around your body. You sunk back down into the co-pilot chair and draped some of a blanket over your head like a hood before letting out a relived sigh. Din took this opportunity to turn his chair towards you and he folded his arms over his chest while he watched you, and he did take note that the red on your cheeks was not from the cold this time, and this made him smirk just slightly under his helmet, “I take it you didn’t travel hyperspace until you came along with me.” You nodded once and kept your eyes on where his should be, “I hadn’t even been off of Naboo. I’m still not used to how cold it gets up here. How did you get used to it?” You asked softly and he gave you a shrug while he motioned towards himself. “Layers.” That was a dumb question. Of course he was fine underneath his thick layers and beskar armor. He shifted just slightly and sighed again, “You might not get used to it entirely. I guess you just figure out how to handle it. Like the blankets. Or like how the kid hunkers down in his pram. Adaptation,” He went on to explain while slowly drumming his fingers over the side of his arm. You nodded to his response and raised your eyebrows, “Did you have to adapt? To your armor, I mean.” Din could only nod to reply to your question and you leaned your head back against the seat, your eyes growing heavy. He noticed this and turned back to his original position while you let the lights of hyperspace against his helmet lull you to sleep. This was not a warm sleep. In fact, it was colder this time than you had ever remembered hyperspace being. And though you were asleep, Din could not help but take notice of you shivering just to the right of him. He looked over at you and his heart nearly swelled in his chest. Ever since he had revealed his name to you in a flowered field back on Naboo and you had spoken it then fallen asleep on his shoulder, he had steadily been falling in love with you. From watching over you as you slept, to leaving secret kisses against your head when you weren’t awake (or at least to his knowledge), he could not stop the feelings he continuously received for you. And he wanted to, he really did. Falling in love was undeniably unfavorable for a Mandalorian for the reasons that were painstakingly obvious, and to this, Din was no exception. He grew tired of watching you shiver and he also grew tired of the longing to be close to you, so he set the ship to autopilot and he stood up. He lifted you easily upwards and made his way carefully down into the hull. You stirred, but did not wake. He was grateful for that. Din laid you ever so gently onto your bunk and tucked the blankets tightly around you before he sat down on a crate opposite of your bunk. Still, you shivered and shifted to find warmth in a new position before he finally wanted to yell. He stood up and walked to a panel of buttons by the door and he pushed the vast majority of them down, every light in the hull snapping off, so nothing- and that means absolutely nothing- was visible. Din made his way back to your bedside and swallowed down the anxiety in his throat caused by the sheer magnitude of his next set of actions. He silently began to strip himself of his armor and other layers until he was just as clothed as you were underneath all those blankets. Last to go was his helmet, which he removed with shaking hands. To say he wasn’t used to this was an understatement. The most skin you had ever seen on this man was his hands or wrists. Nothing more, but certainly less. He lifted the helmet from his head and the cold air in the hull surrounded his face instantly, and he realized how cold it really was. Maybe he’d have to invest in getting a heat source of some sort equipped in the Razor Crest. He couldn’t see you, but he could hear you. And all he could think of right then was ‘poor thing’. Your breathing was mirroring your shivers and your teeth chattered every so often. He’d lay with you just to warm you up, he told himself, as if he was not convincing himself that underneath this “for warmth” ruse was not just the simple want (need?) to be as physically close to you as he could. Din finally bit back doubts and he climbed onto the bunk right behind you, sliding silently into your pile of blankets. His arms awkwardly fumbled around your torso until he found a place for them that didn’t seem so awkward. He drew you backwards into his chest and let out a relieved sigh. The sudden presence of warmth was enough to pull you from your light slumber and you gasped quietly, squirming around before calling out to him in fear that someone unidentified was pressed up against you. “Shh, shh, y/n, I’m right here. You were shivering,” Din said and tightened his arms which had circled your waist. You almost didn’t question it. And was a hard almost. You gasped again, but this time it was because the voice behind you was unfamiliar, but certainly not unrecognizable. It was Din. Of course it was Din, that much you knew. But it lacked the metallic graininess, the barely there static that stood background to his voice. He did not have his helmet on. You’d be lying if you said that it didn’t completely intimidate you, but it would also be false to say you weren’t highly intrigued at the same time, “Din... Your creed,” you stuttered lamely and he only snorted in reply. “Tell me, then. What are you worried about seeing right now?” He asked and in your flustered state, you had to take in the fact that the hull was completely dark. You sighed in shaky relief and then shook your head, “I guess nothing,” you replied. A few more moments of shock passed before you began to really appreciate the gesture, despite the risks he was taking with such a grey colored loophole. How many times had you thought of being this close to Din? The answer was far too many, and this was probably something you wouldn’t admit. Whether this was real or some cruel dream your mind spun, you decided to take full advantage of it and you grabbed his wrists and you pushed his sleeves up just slightly so that you could rest your palms against his warm skin. If Din had any reservations or any nervousness left in his body about holding you, they went out the window with the simple skin-to-skin contact. He sucked in a breath of air and pulled you towards him so that your back was flush against his firm chest. He was impossibly warm for the temperature around the two of you, and you relaxed gratefully into him. It was silent for a long while, and every so often, you’d push his sleeves up a little more absentmindedly to feel more of his skin. It was truthfully just as you had imagined many times before, the skin of a warrior. It was soft, warm, and there were dips and ridges of scars, some deep, some shallow, and each one of them was so uniquely Din. It had been almost two months since he had revealed his name to you, and you could recall from that night forward, almost every night, the near-silent hiss of his helmet being removed and then the soft, gentle kiss that was always placed in the center of your forehead. His kisses were meticulous, cautious, just as he was, and you wondered if he’d ever kissed anyone before, and of course this thought led sequentially to the thought of his lips against yours. Had he ever kissed anyone like THAT before? You rolled around in his arms a bit until you faced him and he clutched the material of your shirt, almost desperately, like he was desperate to have you close to him. You stretched your arms out in front of you and you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders, and you swore that you heard Din let out the quietest of gasps. Your fingers slowly moved along the back of his neck and into his hair. Oh, his hair. You don’t know what you expected of his hair, but you weren’t expecting for it to be so soft and shaggy, curling softly at the ends. He shivered under your wandering fingers and you slid them around to rest right underneath his jaw. He quickly caught your wrists and he was silent, his grip feather light. “Din... can I touch your face?” You found yourself asking, your voice sounding far away, “Has anyone ever touched your face since you were a child?” Din lifted your hands up by your wrists until they rested upon his cheeks, a light sheet of facial hair brushing against your palms, “No. Not since The Mandalorians saved me,” he answered, his voice low. His answers were concise and short, you expected nothing less of Din. Your fingers had a mind of their own and they traced along his sharp cheekbones and mapped out each little scar on his face. You moved them along his forehead and over his strong nose and you were pleasantly surprised to find a neatly trimmed mustache outlining his upper lip. Your fingers stilled at the corners of his lips and you could feel the soft, warm breaths he released rhythmically. Your own breath was caught in your throat as you very slowly inched your fingertips towards his lips. Perhaps you were moving too slow or perhaps Din had his own desires in that moment, but he grabbed your wrists once again and he pulled your left hand to his lips. In the dark, you stared into blackness and you felt the warmest kiss fall upon your fingertips. HIS kiss. His lips were also not what you were expecting, but then again, what could you expect, truly? They were warm, plush, and perhaps the only unscarred part of his body. He took perfect care to make sure each fingertip was kissed with the same gentleness and amount of affection. Oh, the affection in each kiss. It made your heart flutter in your chest, and you wondered when he had time to pick up such affection for you. And Din, on the other hand, he had suspected early on that you had grown too fond of him, but he never addressed it, and until this second, he never planned to. You weren’t the hardest to read, in fact, you were practically an open book, and each emotion you had, you wore written on your face. Any and all question about being in love with you dispersed now within his mind, because right now with your touches and with each kiss he planted on your fingers, he became more convinced that he’d never be able to go without you again. Not now. He had lived almost all of his life deprived of moments like this, moments to fall in love with. Moments where he could truly be close to someone. The closest thing he’d ever had to closeness was meaningless sex for an emotionless release between jobs, and even then, he didn’t take his armor off, much less his helmet. But you invoked the strongest feelings he had ever felt for anyone, ever. When he finally had kissed each finger upon your left hand, he raised your right to his lips and replaced your left with it. You laid in awe as his lips travelled your fingers, and you waited until he finished to brush your thumb across his bottom lip, and you bit yours, wanting nothing more than to kiss him right then. But out of nerves and respect of how far he wanted to go, you waited for him to make any kind of move to indicate that he wanted to kiss you. And that didn’t take long. One second your thumb was against his lip, and the next second his nose was bumping delicately against yours, “Y/n,” Din breathed, his words falling against your parted lips, “Can I kiss you?” He asked, and it nearly took you aback. Din Djarin, a rugged bounty hunter with more scars than anyone else you knew, who could take whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it, who held himself with so much confidence, it could be considered cockiness, had a slight tremble in his voice, a flicker of unsureness. So you replied in the best way you knew how to. You pressed your lips fully against his, your hands sliding ever so stealthily into his soft, thick tangle of hair. No hesitation was shown on his part, and he returned the kiss just as soon as your lips were on his own. The kiss was sweet and clumsy, nothing like the man with the hard exterior who seemed to be good at everything he did. His nose pressed against yours as he squeezed your waist just slightly and he brushed the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip, and you eagerly parted your lips to grant his tongue access to your own. He pulled his lips away from yours all too soon, and you would have objected if it weren’t for the instantaneous relocation of his lips onto your throat. You closed your eyes and left your fingers within his hair, allowing his lips to explore each inch of the cold skin on your neck. Each kiss sent a rush of warmth through your body, and you were finding it much easier to be adequately warm now. You moved your hands out of his hair absentmindedly and slid them underneath the collar of his shirt, his lean back noticeably releasing tenseness underneath your touch. Din pulled away from your neck, and for the first time, you actually heard him try and catch his breath. The next few moments were wordless and almost blurry, but you know for sure that you were able to rid him of his shirt and he was able to rid you of yours. Both of you moved your hands along each other’s skin. Arms, chest, torso, back... anything you could reach. He seemed to be so comforted by your wandering hands, and his quiet, content sighs confirmed that. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it, six simple words rolling anxiously off of his tongue: “i love you, i want you.” The silence after his words swirled around your head as you tried to comprehend what it was he had just said, and your lips fumbled to respond to him. When you finally chased down your voice, you reached for his hands which laid against your sides and you let out a shaky breath, “i love you, too. I want you, too,” and if there were lights on at this moment, he would’ve seen the dark pink blush that had crept up your cheeks, but thank god that he couldn’t. “Have you ever-“ he began, but you cut him off promptly. “I have. Have you?” You asked and bit down on the the tip of your tongue, not sure what to expect his answer to be. A quiet yes left his lips and you pressed your own together tightly, wondering if he had more to add to that. He didn’t. Instead, Din located the center of your chest and he brushed his fingertips downwards in an invisible line down your stomach and to the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitched embarrassingly loud in your throat and he seemed to notice this because he stilled his fingers, “Can I take these off?” He asked, his voice softer and more timid than you had ever heard it. Though this time was unfamiliar with him, it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. It was so nice to know that he wasn’t so stern all of the time, and you realized in a hurry that you wanted this side of Din all the time. You nodded in response to his question, then remembered he couldn’t see you in the pitch blackness. “Yes. Please,” you whispered, not able to help the desperate tone your voice took at the end, and you prayed silently Din didn’t notice. You fool, of course he noticed, the chuckle that left his lips confirmed that. Stupid, meticulous Mandalorian Din carefully pulled your pants down over your legs and when he pulled away from you and you heard shuffling, you imagined that he was doing the exact same. From that moment on, the entire mood shifted. The cold hull was nearly sweltering now, and you could feel a thin layer of sweat veil your face, and it only got impossibly hotter when you felt his mouth press right against the center of your chest. He began to trail slow kisses down your stomach and just down past the waistband of your underwear. He stopped there and didn’t move for a long moment. Impatience clouded your mind and you whined before reaching down to yank your underwear off. Something about him was making you desperate for friction, for touch. his touch, specifically. He seemed to find this amusing, because he let out a scoff that sounded an awful lot like a muffled laugh. You felt his nose brush up against your navel and your breath hitched in your throat just before his lips came down to make contact with your skin. This was enough for a calamitous gasp to escape your lips, and your hands fumbled around to find his hair, but he caught your wrists mid-reach, and he rested them in his hair. He liked that, you concluded. The heat of the moment blurred each second almost deliriously, and the only thing that brought you back to focus, was the warm, open mouthed, blissful kiss Din left against your clit. You attempted to throw your hips upward, but his he seemed to predict this, and as he always was two steps ahead of you, he held your hips down to the mattress with one of his hands. Excitement crackled within your stomach and you had to remind yourself to stay quiet as to not wake the sleeping child on the opposite side of the hull. Din’s hand held you down tighter and you anticipated he’d make another move. And you were correct. His lips moved downward ever so slightly to leave another hot kiss against your folds, which were increasing in wetness by the millisecond now, it seemed, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Din, who let out a groan against your core. He eased his tongue out from between his lips to lick a stripe up to your clit, when you yanked his hair, growing impatient. “Din. Please, I need you. I’m sure there will be other times for this,” you whimpered, your breath a frantic indication of your sudden desperation. He paused and you were afraid he wasn’t going to oblige, but after a moment, he was pulling away from you. The sound of clothing being taken off excited you even further, and you reached around for him giddily. Your hand caught his shoulder and you gave it a soft tug, trying to get him to come down closer to you. He (thankfully) obliged and moved down so that the two of you were chest to chest, one of his arms resting beside you to hold himself up. “When did you fall for me?” He asked, breaking the silence around you two. His question made you blink a few times and you waited a moment before answering him, “I guess when you came and saved me and the baby that one time... I don’t know. After that I just... saw you differently I suppose,” you replied quietly and reached up to find his face in the dark. You rested your hand on his cheek and brushed your thumb over his cheekbone, to which he leaned into, “What about you?” You asked, biting your lip. “The day I took you back to Naboo, in the flowers. You fell asleep on me,” he responded, quick as lightning, and that was the first immediate vocal response you’d gotten out of him almost all night. You remembered this night clearly, as it was the first time he’d kissed your head. “You know, I’ve been awake each time you’ve kissed my forehead. I stay awake for it,” you whispered softly and closed your eyes, waiting for a response that never came. At least, it wasn’t a spoken response. His lips once again captured your own and he kissed you deeply; passionately. He took this opportunity to gently lift one of your legs up over his waist and you were quick to tighten it. Everything went fast from there, and clumsily so. You messily wrapped your arms around his back and he shifted around for a moment before finding a position above you to align your hips. You clung to him tightly and twisted your fingers within his hair as he carefully eased his cock inside of you. Of course the very few times that you’d fucked anyone before had nothing on Din. The size of his length stretched you, leaving you stinging blissfully in his wake. You let out a quiet gasp and gently pulled his hair, invoking a deep groan to unfold from the center of his chest, “Din, please.. m-move,” you stuttered and he gave a gentle nod, giving in to your request. He started almost aggravatingly slow, carefully pumping inside of you fully before slowly sliding himself almost completely out before doing it again. Either he sensed your frustration or he grew frustrated himself, but whatever the case was, he quickly began to pick up speed with his thrusts, his hips jerking backwards and forwards. You moaned, quietly at first, but soon after, another one tumbled from your lips, louder. He tossed his head backwards immediately following your moan and he drove his cock into you just a little bit faster, “Fuck. Do that again,” he groaned in reference to your moan. You squeezed your eyes shut and gasped for a moment before letting out another one of those moans he seemed to adore. The more moans that left your lips seemed to encourage him to increase the speed of his thrusts, and they became harder and faster, causing your eyes to roll back. You didn’t even feel his arm move before he pressed his thumb down over your clit and rolled it in a slow circle. You sucked in a harsh mouthful of air before nearly choking out his name, and you heard him swear underneath his breath. He timed the movements on your clit with his deep thrusts and truly, just when you believed you’d plateaued in your pleasure, his cock hit a glorious spot inside of you, and you yanked at his hair, which had him grunting out a series of foreign words which you figured to be Mando’a, but you couldn’t be sure. And really at the moment, it was the last thing on your mind as you were seeing white flashes underneath your eyelids as he hit that spot, over and over and over and over until you were just barely breathing to try and hold your orgasm back. Din leaned down and pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips, and the quality of his thrusts became that of his kiss. He was close. But it was you that came first. You arched your back high off of the mattress and wailed his name into his mouth as you came around him, becoming impossibly tight around his cock. He gave a few more hard thrusts before he was releasing inside of you as well, his lips moving lazily against yours. He moved his thumb slowly over your clit as to guide you down from your orgasm. His thumb came to a stop after a while and he dropped his head down to your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and played with the hair on the back of his head, feeling warm within your post-coital intoxication. “You stay awake for my kisses?” Din asked after a while and you giggled softly, holding him just a bit tighter now. “I do. And I’ll keep doing so if I can get a few of them on my lips from now on.” “As you wish, Cyar’ika.”

[ye0ncore]

i want you - jay park

requested by anon: “may i request 30, 33 & 47 for jay maybe a little inspired with the song Heather by Conan Gray, thank you?”

note: thank you for the req anon!! i hope you all like how this turned out 🥺🥺 i was writing and i forgot about the song part so i’m sorry if it doesn’t exactly match the request! it also moves pretty fast so i’m not the biggest fan of it, but it’s still cute 🥺

30: “what the hell were you thinking?”

33: “you haven’t lost me.”

47: “tell me what’s wrong.”

you know that feeling you get when you see the person whom you’ve had feelings for for the past two and a half years? when your stomach erupts with butterflies and you can immediately feel your cheeks heat up. you can feel the smile tug at the corners of your lips, and it feels like you’re on a whole different planet.

yeah. that’s what it’s like being best friends with park jongseong. you and him have been best friends for years, but the feelings started developing a couple years back. and he had no idea.

everyone knew about your feelings except him. he was basically oblivious. it felt like he didn’t notice at all, which honestly, he didn’t. he never noticed the way you looked at him. you were just so infatuated with him and everything he was.

it had been forever since you two had hung out outside of school. every time you asked, he brushed you off, saying he had “something to take care of.” you believed it the first few times, but soon found out he was lying straight through his teeth.

it upset you at first, thinking he didn’t want to talk to you anymore. the constant thought ate away at you, wanting to fix things with your best friend. ‘maybe i did something wrong? maybe i messed up and didn’t even notice,’ you thought to yourself.

and that’s what led you to impulsively drive to his home at 12 am. you know how crazy it sounded, but you couldn’t take it. plus, you knew he would be awake, so you weren’t too worried. you threw on a pair of sweatpants, not even thinking about what the weather would be like outside.

you hurried out to your car, and were immediately nipped by the sharp, cold air. you debated for a moment whether you should go grab a sweater or not, but ultimately deciding not to. you had to fix this, you could handle a little bit of cold.

you started your car, turned your heat all the way up and drove the fifteen minutes to jay’s home. as soon as you parked, you wasted no time and ran to his front door, ringing the doorbell. you rubbed your arms as you waited for jay to open the door, hoping and praying that he would.

no more than a few seconds later, the door opened, revealing jay in a disheveled state. he looked so tired, making you feel bad about randomly showing up so late. as soon as his mind processed that you were in front of him, he freaked and pulled you inside, knowing how cold it was. it was around 23 degrees at the time.

“y/n? what are you doing here? it’s cold as hell outside, and you’re only wearing sweatpants and a t shirt. and it’s literally illegal for you to drive past midnight. what the hell were you thinking? something could have happened.” his words were urgent, yet calm, concern written all over his face.

you stood there silently. you had planned everything you would say, but now that you were in front of him, it’s like you forgot how to speak. you were shaking, your mind spinning with how this could turn out. he took a couple of steps toward you, a small, comforting smile on his face.

“tell me what’s wrong. let me help.” you nodded, taking a deep breath and attempted to pull your thoughts together.

“are we okay? i keep getting the feeling you just don’t want to talk to me anymore... i ask to hang out, and you brush me off. i try talking to you, and i get ignored. i just want to know if i... if i did anything wrong. did i?” you stumbled over your words, but managed to look up at him, a look he couldn’t quite place in your eyes.

he froze for a few seconds, looking down at you, guilt written all over him. “y/n... of course we’re okay. you did nothing wrong, i promise. a lot has been going on, and i didn’t want you to worry about me. you haven’t lost me. it’s just a long story you probably don’t want to hear.”

“jay, what are you talking about? of course i want to hear. i’m here for you, you should know this.” all he did was nod, and run a hand through his hair. you felt horrible, but the first thing that came to your mind was ‘wow, he looks good.’

“okay fine. but you have to promise not to freak out on me.” you were confused, but nodded and promised him nonetheless. he sat on the couch, and motioned for you to do the same. he turned to you, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“i’ve been avoiding you.” you glared at him, getting even more upset.

“you’ve been what? why? what did i do?”

“it’s nothing you did. it’s not your fault. i’ve just been um... i’ve been scared to talk to you because i realized something.” this just made you even more confused. what was he saying?

“i realized that i... i think i love you.”

you froze in your spot, staring at him completely dumbfounded. he looked down at his lap, anxiously awaiting your response. you went to speak, but nothing came out.

“jay, i-"

“no.” he cut you off. “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i completely understand. i just... i don’t know how i didn’t realize it earlier.”

“jay listen to me. i love you. so much. i really do. b-but... w-why me? you were talking to that other girl a few weeks ago, what happened to her? she’s so much-"

and there he goes cutting you off again. “i don’t want her!” he stopped for a moment, standing up from the couch.

“i want you. and i love you. just tell me you love me too.” his words were soft, almost pleading.

you stood up as well, making your way towards him.

you stood silent for a moment, looking up at him, not being able to hold back the slight smile.

“i love you too.”

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 12

masterlist

Namjoon left in a huff after that leaving both Y/N and Jungkook in shock. Neither of them really knew what to make of his exit as they looked at each other with mirrored looks of confusion.

“Well that was interesting.” She laughed. “Shall we walk around the garden?” She suggested smiling at the younger man. What else were they really supposed to do?

She had the time but not the inclination to stay and contemplate what was going around in Namjoon’s head. That was a twisted mess she had no interest in detangling. If you entered the labyrinth that was his mind you were likely to never come out again. It was not a risk she was willing to take, and so instead they walked around the garden.

Jungkook, she found, was a rather shy young man. He didn’t say much, but he followed her like a shadow as they wandered about the gardens. She was looking for an exit. He was making sure she didn’t do anything Namjoon wouldn’t approve of. At least that was what they were doing before they were accosted by the happiest ball of fluff she had ever seen.

“Who is this cutie?” She asked kneeling down to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

Jungkook kneeled down as well smiling as he gave the dog attention as well. “This is Moni. He’d Namjoon hyung’s dog.”

“Namjoon has a dog?” Jungkook nodded. “That man, the devil himself, has a white fluffy dog?” Again, he nodded. And she couldn’t help but laugh. It just seemed so out of character. Weren’t crime lord’s supposed to keep tough dogs like Rottweilers and Pitbulls? But here was possibly the cutest little ball of fluff she had ever seen.

“Your hyung is a very strange man.” She told Jungkook. “Does he even have time for a dog? You know between the illegal activities and kidnapping women?”

“Moni spends a lot of time with the staff.”

“Well that’s no good. Moni and I will just have to be friends from now on. Won’t we, Moni?” She cooed smooshing the dogs face. It was her dog now.

“Come along, boys!” She smiled standing back up straightening out her skirt ready to continue their walk.  

She found out rather quickly that the gardens were enclosed by a wall, a very tall wall, but there were trees, trees that were very climbable. They could get her close to the top of the wall. The problem was that she didn’t know what was on the other side of that wall or how many goons Namjoon had watching the perimeter of the estate. And then there was her new problem. Jungkook. How was she supposed to get rid of her new shadow? Those would all have to be problems for another time though. She didn’t have the free reign she needed to properly scope out the area and plot.

Her days quickly fell into a new routine. She would wake up and go to her breakfasts with Namjoon in the morning and share a meal with him in the evening. Other than that she would be free to spend the day as she pleased, so long as she remained within the boundaries of the estate. Jungkook would be with her wherever she went or at the very least waiting just outside the door. The only time Jungkook was not with her was when either Namjoon or Jin was, but Jin’s visits could not be as frequent as she would have liked them to be. But she found a great friend in Jungkook.

The young man was like a younger brother to her now, and she no longer minded his constant presence in her life. He also came with the added bonus of sneaking her into activities that were not quite Namjoon approved such as Mario Kart tournaments or movie marathons. Of course the house staff knew of her activities, but no one could begrudge her a few luxuries without the boss’ knowing especially not when there was so little to keep someone occupied when you did the same things day after day. So they kept her secret, and Namjoon never knew of the little indulgences Jungkook allowed her.

It had been maybe three weeks since she’d been released from her rooms, and she was wondering the garden with Moni and Jungkook like she did most days. Her days were an endless cycle of wandering the gardens, playing the piano, and reading books that Namjoon had prepared. She and Jungkook would have tea in the garden. It wasn’t that harsh of a life. Namjoon treated her well in fact. The only real complaint she had, other than being a prisoner, was how monotonous her gilded cage was. If you didn’t know she was a prisoner, you never would have suspected it. She was treated as the lady of the house, Namjoon’s precious wife.

She was grateful for the gardens and for the piano room. She was even grateful for Jungkook, her guard, her shadow. When it was just the two of them and Moni, she could almost forget that she was a prisoner and that Jungkook was her guard. She could almost forget that he wouldn’t hesitate to turn her into Namjoon if she slipped up. But or a few moments at least, she could forget.  

“I’d heard that Namjoon had found himself a woman.” An unfamiliar voice spoke startling her from her reverie.

Looking up she found a man smiling down at her. He was handsome with a lovely smile that normally would have given her butterflies, but nothing was normal about her life these days, and everyone she met was in Namjoon’s pocket.

She stood up straight and smoothed out the fabric of her skirt as Jungkook watched carefully from a few feet away where he had been playing with Moni while she watched the Koi from the bridge. “He hasn’t.”

“Then you’re not the lady of the house I’ve heard so much about?”

“That depends on who you ask.” She scoffed a frown marring her features.

“And what do you say?”

Y/N laughed, the sound bitter. “You must be new. What I say doesn’t matter here. All of Namjoon’s men know who I am and what my position here is. And if you don’t know you’re probably not one of Namjoon’s men.”

“And if I told you I wasn’t one of Namjoon’s men?” He asked curiously.

“Then I’d say you’re an idiot for being here.”

The stranger threw back his head and laughed.  “I can see why Namjoon likes you. I’m Mark.”

“Y/N.” She replied shaking his out stretched hand. “So why hasn’t Jungkook removed you yet? He’s watching us like a hawk.”

“Jungkook?”

“The man staring daggers at you from the lawn.” She shrugged. “He’s here to make sure I don’t do anything stupid like try to hop the fence.”

“A caged bird then.” He hummed.

She narrowed her eyes taking him in. In all her time at the estate she hadn’t once met anyone who wasn’t under Namjoon’s thumb. But this man claimed not to be one of Namjoon’s goons.

“So who are you if you don’t work for Namjoon?”

“I’m an associate of his. I have a few businesses based in Taiwan and America”

“Legitimate business or Namjoon’s kind of business?”

He laughed again showing off a dazzling smile. Why were all these mafiosos so attractive? It was a carefree and happy expression, but there was something sharp lingering in his eyes. “A bit of both, darling.”

“Figures.” She sighed turning back to the pond and leaning on the railing of the bridge. “No one who comes here is anything less than shady.”

Mark gasped placing a hand over his heart. “Are you calling me shady? Darling, I’m offended.”

“I met you two minutes ago in a mob boss’ house.” She deadpanned.

“Point taken.” He shrugged nonplussed by her lack of enthusiasm.

“I suppose since you’re an associate of Namjoon’s I can’t convince you to sneak me back to the states.” She glanced over at him knowing full well he wasn’t going to get her out of this nightmare.

“Plotting your escape, jagi?” Her spine stiffened, and she immediately stood upright again at the sound of his voice.

There he was, sauntering up the bridge towards them as put together as ever in one of his suits. Y/N knew immediately that she was in trouble. Though he was smiling, his eyes were cold and hard.

“Tuan.” He greeted the other man with a curt nod.

“Kim.” Came the equally as curt reply.

“Jagi.” Namjoon beckoned her to his side, and she dutifully went unwilling to make him any angrier than he already seemed. He wrapped an arm round her waist, and pulled her into his side. “I do recall that guests are meant to wait in the parlor, Tuan.”

The other man smiled. “Yes, but you have such beautiful gardens. I couldn’t resist a stroll. And I got to meet the lovely, Y/N.” Namjoon’s hand tightened uncomfortably on her hip.

“Jagi, I believe Miss In has prepared tea for you in your rooms.” He squeezed her hip again flashing her a cold smile as she paled. “Tuan, I believe that you and I have business to discuss.” Namjoon motioned for Jungkook, who had moved closer during the encounter, to come and collect her. “There’s a lovely pavilion we can talk in since you enjoy the garden so much.”

He passed her over to Jungkook all the while maintaining his coldly polite smile. The message was clear. Her time in the garden was finished for today, and Namjoon didn’t want her anywhere near Mark. It probably didn’t help that he had walked right into a conversation about her trying to leave. She would probably be paying for that comment later.

“Until next time, Y/N.” Mark bid her goodbye with a sly smile as Jungkook gently herded her back towards the house, Moni following at their heels.

For the rest of the day Y/N was confined to her rooms. She wasn’t locked in like she had been before, but Jungkook stood guard outside making it clear that she wasn’t allowed out until Namjoon himself came to release her. As promised, Miss In had provided tea, but that was the last she had seen of anyone.

Boredom had quickly set in. She finished the book she had with her, and had resorted to rereading it when there was nothing else to do.

“Jagiya.” She was startled from her book by Namjoon. He stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest his features set in a stern look.

She sighed uncurling herself from the corner of the sofa and setting the book aside. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that. I’m not your sweet heart or honey or whatever.”

“Jagiya.” The endearment was stated more sternly this time.

“Yes, Namjoon?” She asked keeping her eyes on her hands folded neatly in her lap. She knew full well that she was in trouble.

“Oh, jagiya.” He cooed crossing the room. One of his hands came up to cup her jaw forcing her to look at him. “Talking to strange men in the garden? What were you thinking? What if he had hurt you?”

She pushed his hand away. “I doubt that you would allow someone into the house who would cause disruption. You’re far too careful for that. Besides, Jungkook wouldn’t let anything happen.”

“I appreciate the faith you have in me, jagi, but I don’t appreciate you talking to strange men.”

“He was your guest, and we only spoke for a moment.” She scoffed.

He smiled at her, bu the expression was cold and sharp. “Yes, you spoke for a moment, and yet you still managed to ask him for help leaving me.” Suddenly, she found the yellow of her dress very fascinating. “Did you really think that was a good idea, jagi?”

“I didn’t think he’d actually do it.” She murmured plucking at the fabric of her skirts.

He tsked under his breath. “I thought we’d put all those silly thoughts out of your head, jagi. You’ve been so good recently.” One hand snaked up to grasp her hair at the nape of her neck forcing her to look up at him with a gasp of pain. “Don’t you like it here, jagi?”

“I would burn this whole place to the ground with you in it if I could.” She hissed.

He released her with a chuckle moving instead to cage her against the sofa with two hands on either side of her head. “I know you would, jagi.” The smile he sent her made her skin crawl.

They both knew that she didn’t have any power in the relationship, but that only made his condescending attitude worse. He’d kept her here for weeks and weeks neither of them budging. But there wasn’t really anything she could do anyway, not yet anyway. Even if she somehow managed to escape the estate, she would still be in a foreign city with no phone, no passport, no money, and no way to contact the only person she knew here. She didn’t even know if Eun-ho had recovered from their crash. No one would tell her anything.

“I want you to know, jagi, that if you did manage to escape, you wouldn’t get far. I can promise you that nothing would stop me from finding you and dragging you back to me. You are mine, my wife. There is nowhere on this earth you can hide from me.” He smirked cruelly bringing a hand to her cheek in a gesture that was far more gentle than his words. “Not even that little friend of yours bothering the police can help you now. He came all the way from America for you.” She felt her heart drop, plummeting into her stomach. “Anything you’d like to tell me, jagi?”

part 13

[whentherewerebicycles]

wow okay i am skipping the lingerie party lol and am instead going to just briefly jot down some thoughts before i go to sleep and wake up at 5 for my flight tomorrow morning. jesus christ i have ONE MILLION thoughts and feelings about this weekend. i want to preface this by saying that on the whole, it was a fine social experience! it was nowhere near as awkward or painful as i was expecting. or like, parts of it were painful, but it was 100% to do with my own complicated feelings about literally every part of this tradition and the wedding industry in general lol, and not anything to do with the people themselves. the other women were friendly and very welcoming, i made an event best friend who was wonderful company, and it was really fun to get to spend time with both my sister-in-law and her older sister, who was so charming and wonderful. i’m glad i came even though thinking about the $$ i spent on this trip makes me physically gag.

but okay i want to just record some THOUGHTS that maybe i will continue unpacking with some distance. i feel likeeeee okay here are my thoughts.

the social norms around femininity are just a fucking minefield and i feel like i really just gotta keep walking back the impulse to judge other women for the choices they make as they navigate around the manifold traps and snares and half-buried landmines that constitute the landscape of being a woman. like jesus christ. it’s so fucked up, it’s so fucked up, the received and socially enforced norms of femininity are just so fucked up. I think ALL THE FUCKING TIME of this margaret atwood poem i love so much, which was REALLY on my mind this weekend:

How can I teach her some way of being human that won’t destroy her?

I would like to tell her, Love is enough, I would like to say, Find shelter in another skin.

I would like to say, Dance and be happy. Instead I will say in my crone’s voice, Be ruthless when you have to, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it.

I feel like the first bit was very much on my mind throughout the weekend, but those last three lines have come to the forefront over the course of this last day, as i have tried to do some Thinking about what i observed/experienced/felt this weekend. whether or not this is what it means in the context of the poem, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it, expresses something of my complex feelings: I don’t know that I can tell the truth about femininity because I don’t know that I can see it. i am both too close to it/still emotionally entangled in it and too far from it to know which parts of it are ‘real’ and which parts are just performance.

i feel like one thing that struck me this weekend, in ways that i don’t know if i’ve noticed as much before, was that so much of the things women say to each other or do in these social contexts is performative, and they know on some level it’s a performance, but we are all going through the motions of doing and saying the expected things anyway. that has not always been clear to me. i have spent so much of my own life as a woman thinking that other women perfectly, seamlessly, naturally embodied the norms of femininity, and i was the only one (or part of a group of only ones) who couldn’t remember my lines, or kept fumbling my cues, or felt so painfully, self-consciously aware that i was playing a role that i could never deliver a convincing performance. but this weekend, after the initial social panic had passed, i started trying to get out of my own head a little bit and look for things that disproved the very strong theory i had brought into the weekend. and of course then i started seeing more and more of the little moments where women say one thing and do another, or profess one belief/conviction but then the whole corpus of their lived experiences and choices contradicts that stated belief, or whatever. and also just like, moments of pathos, where someone i had judged harshly at the beginning of the weekend offhandedly revealed something about her past that really changed my perception of her, or at least made me think like, ah god, i have to have empathy for and with this person, because i think she might be a complex person just like me, with an intricate inner life that her performance partially reveals and partially occludes from view, and agh, it sucks to have to think of people as complicated instead of as safely two-dimensional & easy to dismiss, and the reason it sucks is because then it forces you to realize that you share more with this person than you’d like to admit, and that some of your wounds are the same, even if you dealt with those wounds (the wounds of girlhood, or rather the emotional wounds that our culture inflicts upon girls, which then become tangled up in complex and painful ways with the lived experience of girlhood itself) in really different ways.

but also ugh. we are all performing gender norms but there is just something that does not feel playful at all about embodying conventional femininity. i can’t think of a better way to phrase that right now but it’s like.. the performance isn’t fun. it doesn’t seem to be fun. i don’t know that anyone here was having fun doing it, even if they were having fun being with each other. but it was like doing the intensely gendered social rituals was like, the price of admission? like it was the toll we had to pay to be together spending time in the company of other women? i don’t know man but it fucking exhausts me. like i can push myself to stretch my genuine empathy and sense of solidarity with other women much further than my knee-jerk judgmental reaction, but i can’t ever get to a place where i find any of those social rituals anything other than fucking exhausting. they feel so fucking joyless. they feel like things that many women have internalized as ‘things we must do in order to have relationships with other women.’ (please do not even get me started on how exhausting heteronormativity is i think i could write an entire other essay on how women use these bachelorette party-type rituals to spend time with their closest female friends, but the whole event is still implicitly organized around men, and these women’s male partners are still positioned as the priority in their lives, and the whole event is framed as like, a last burst of intense closeness between women before the bride is delivered over to her husband. like i KNOW that this is not how women think of it but all the RHETORIC of the bachelorette party, the little events and rituals and games, the little comments everyone makes all fucking weekend, good fucking lord, my jaw is so TENSE.)

anyway god i just AGHHHH. idk sorry this is definitely not coherent at ALL because i’m tired and still need a bit more distance/time to process some of this. i guess here is one last thing i want to register before i sleep. i am in my 30s now and i am living a life that is so, so far removed from the social world i grew up in. marriage is not a norm among my friend group, almost all of my female friends are queer women, many women i know are not partnered and have no interest in being partnered, and the friends who are in heterosexual relationships tend to be in very gender-balanced relationships or slightly nontraditional relationships where it feels like both partners have engaged in conscious reflection about what they want their relationship to look/feel like. also i now date women, am out as a lesbian, and spend most of my time teaching/working with queer- and trans/nonbinary-identified kids.

so like, the world i live in now is just so different from the world i grew up in. and sometimes it is easy for me to kind of downplay the intensity of my own gender distress as a teen and young adult, or to sort of - act like it was a phase in my life that had much more to do with me than with the social environment i lived in. i don’t mean ‘phase’ in a dismissive ‘those feelings weren’t real’ kind way, but more like, ‘oh that was just part of the normal growing pains of figuring out who you are and what kind of person you want to be as an adult - everybody pretty much goes through some version of that.’ it’s true that everyone DOES go through some version of that, as just like, part of the process of individuation in that age range. but also like. idk man. being back in this environment - straight white women from the midwest and south, all engaging in the rituals of heterosexual white femininity - was just so intense and so MUCH, and it brought back a flood of feelings and visceral memories that i feel like i will need to spend some time sorting through over the next few weeks. like, what i experienced back then really WAS gender distress, and it was so, so distressing. i spent the years from age 11ish to 24ish existing with this constant lowgrade baseline feeling of wanting to claw my own fucking skin off because my own gendered body felt like such a prison, and i sometimes felt like i literally wanted to destroy my own body because i could not yet conceive of an alternative to inhabiting that body or playing the role that had been handed down to me. until i started reading queer memoirs and inhaling lesbian media and (especially) reading about queer femme identities, i literally did not have an image or any kind of felt sense of what another way of inhabiting my own body might look/feel like. i literally could not imagine it!!!

and that is why the distress feels so distressing, and becomes internalized in such violent ways, i think. because it’s the blind, mindless panic of a trapped and wounded animal. except that you lack any real understanding of the larger social forces at work, or any language with which to describe or conceptualize what social norms are or how they’re enforced. so in your mind, the only thing you can see wounding you is your own gendered body, or the way that gendered body is socially 'read’ by others. and that is why you want to claw your own fucking skin off, just literally dig your nails into your own flesh and claw it the fuck off. because you can’t see a norm, but you can see your gendered body, and you can see the ways that it causes other people to react to you, or treat you, or hold you to a certain set of expectations, and so in your mind you are like: this must be destroyed. in your mind you are like, the only way out is to get out of this fucking body, but that’s impossible, surely, you can’t get out of your own body, so you have to settle for starving it and self-harming it and ruthlessly punishing it in a thousand terrible ways, because you might not be able to leave your girl’s body behind, but you can make it suffer and pay for what it’s done to you. 

i am old enough now, and have spent enough time thinking and writing about those feelings, to identify them when they arise again, and to get the necessary distance from them so that i can say, what i want to destroy are the norms themselves, and the distress they cause, and not the body that has done nothing to me but be me. so i am not quite as sucked under as i used to be. but i think that there is something about the violence and intensity of those feelings that i forget sometimes, or misremember with age and distance. it’s easy to be a little bit patronizing to my younger self (or by extension to my younger students sometimes), because i now live in a social world that is largely arranged in ways that minimize rather than intensify or amplify gender distress. but when you have no choice in how to arrange your life, and no language with which to understand what is happening to you or what you are experiencing, and no frame of reference to help you understand that this is a period in your life and not forever, and no models you can look to in order to discover alternative ways of inhabiting your body or arranging your life... my god, that’s quite different from being an adult with a wide range of experiences and with much greater autonomy over your own body and life. anyway idk i need to keep thinking but now i must go to bed and try to sleep five hours before the plane.