#everyone else got to rotate in that last spot

[spooky-activity]

Honestly the MVPs of my Persona 3 Portable run

[sukunasteeth]

Wrestle Me

Tokyo had reached record temperatures that day. The sun was roasting the city, every street was a mirage from the bending light of its shine. The weather recently had been sending everyone either inside or to the nearest water source.

Yuji had gone to the beach with Megumi and Nobara in a futile attempt to escape the heat that had Japan in the sweaty palm of its hand. They had offered you and Sukuna a spot on the railway car there, but you knew that Sukuna was too exhausted from his recent missions to do any sort of going out. Not to mention the draining effect of the heat stacked on top of that. You were in the mood to just enjoy each other's presence.

The two of you were sheltered away in the darkness of his bedroom, lying sprawled out across the floor in front of his small rotating fan. Sukuna and Yuji never turned the A/C on. Since they had moved into their own apartment, the brothers had become rather stingy when it came to the bills. The air didn't start up until the room felt like a sauna, and it turned off much too soon to give relief.

Sweat continued to drip down the both of your spines, but Sukuna didn't seem to mind it. He was enjoying the peace of his day off, dressed against the heat in nothing but his boxer briefs and a tank top. He had his head resting in the cushion of your lap, his eyes were transfixed on an old leather notebook that he had stolen from one of the professors a few days ago. It was in a language you hadn't taken at the academy yet, but Sukuna tells you it was early notes on jujutsu from the old world.

You had been scrolling through your phone, occasionally showing him something you found amusing or anything that reminded you of him. He only gave you a reaction to maybe 10% of the material, but it was fun to see him roll his eyes, or scoff and wave your phone away.

The longer you remained in the same spot,however, the sweatier you felt and the more frustrated with the heat. You tried not to squirm under Sukuna's head, remaining as still as possible as though he were a sleeping animal taking refuge on your lap. Boredom, however, eventually pulls the last straw that has you stirring.

An idea comes to mind.

Sukuna glances up at you, as though he expects you to show him something else on your phone, but instead his attention is caught by the mischievous glint you feel twinkling in your eye.

"Wrestle me." You beam at him.

It was somewhat of a joke.

Compared to your boyfriend, it was clear who would win in a pinning tournament between the two of you.

 Sukuna, who enjoys kickboxing in his spare time. Sukuna, who has never missed an opportunity for a fight in the decade that you've known him, who could dead-lift your torso with ease if he so desired.

Sukuna, who has never touched you with anything but heart wrenching gentleness.

His eyes widen at your command, the notebook he had previously found so interesting has been completely forgotten. He seems to catch the drift of your lack of entertainment, and quickly plays along. His surprise melts into an amused little smile.

"Oh yeah? Think you got a chance, kid?" He taunts, placing the book beside him. His attention now fully focused on you.

You snort, you were only a year younger than he was, but he loved to emphasize it when he could. Sukuna mistakes your noise as a scoff and cocks a daring brow at you.

You love when he’s in a playful mood.

"I could take you any day." You tease. Part of you is running for the hills inside, but another part is having fun with the big bad wolf. That was the constant state you were in with him. Sukuna didn't even have to try and he always had your heart racing.

Sukuna makes an impressed noise, "That, I'm well aware of. I don't know about in a fight, though."

You groan at his joke, shaking your head in disappointment, but Sukuna grabs onto your chin before you can get even one turn of your head out.

"Let's find out."  

~

Ten minutes later, you're drenched in twice the amount of sweat as you were before, but Sukuna has barely lost a drop. He's got you twisted like a pretzel beneath him, holding your limbs in just the right way so that you're completely incapacitated in his hands.

Your first mistake was thinking Sukuna knew how to play-fight. The only person he had been remotely close with in your childhood was his twin brother, and the two of them had often "wrestled", but it only ended when one of them had blood dripping out of their noses. You learned early on not to question it. Having two boys as your childhood best friends had you turning your gaze from a lot of things, in fact.

The only thing you questioned now, was how you were going to get out of your current predicament. You were sure Sukuna was having a blast practically hogtying you with his hands, and now he knew how easy it was to get you in this position. It was a double whammy that would surely effect you in the future. 

"Did you really think I'd go easy on you?" The weight of his chest presses into your back as he leans over you, sending hot breath over your neck. "How cute."

"Okay, okay! I give!" You whine, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. You had to admit that it was getting slightly painful, but Sukuna was well aware of your pressure points and where to stay away from. You still had one last trick up your sleeve, however.

Satisfied with your surrender, he nips at your ear with his teeth before he slides off of you and relinquishes his effortless grip. Before he can fully turn away, however, you're leaping onto his back like a monkey and tackling him into his mattress. It was a dirty tactic, but you had been wrestling your childhood best friend Yuji since the two of you were in elementary school, so you were no stranger to tricks of the trade. Especially the feign defeat card.

He blinks up at you. It was a difficult task to take Sukuna off guard, but you had accomplished it.

"Sucker." You playfully stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. Inside your chest, your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s almost like Sukuna knows this, because even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s still looking at you with an amused grin- unaffected by your change of position. 

"You have a higher pain tolerance than I thought you did." He notes, tilting his head to the side like he's considering something. "What can we do with that new information, I wonder?" 

It was another intimidation tactic. A good one. It had chills running down your spine. But, you weren’t going to let him win so easily this time. Suddenly, you were interested in how far you could push him, as well. 

"Come on 'Kuna," You chide, your nose is practically touching his- a rabbit pressing against the snout of a hungry wolf. "Can't take defeat, my love?"

"Oh doll," His voice is a husky drawl, rough hands slide their way from their resting places on your hips to slip under the hem of your shirt and brush the skin of your waist. You try to contain your shiver. "You're playing a very dangerous game."

One last wave of confidence sweeps through you as you lean down, just like he always did, to murmur lowly into his ear. "And you're losing."

That did it.

Sukuna grabs onto your waist so quickly, you barely have time to register it before he loops his leg around your knee and easily flips the two of you back to your original position. You're giggling beneath him as he gathers your face into his hands, pressing calloused fingers into your cheeks. You've gotten under his impenetrable skin. You didn't know it, but you always did.

No matter how strong a man is, he will always lose to the woman he loves.

Sukuna was slowly starting to accept that.

[jarofstyles]

Teenage Dirtbag 5

Here we go again! I decided to bring back Fratrry in the rotation. For those of you who didn’t read them yet (or forgot) check out the series masterlist. These updates are shorter so I can get them out somewhat frequently instead of making you wait hehe.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 170+ exclusive writings

Teenage Dirtbag Masterlist

WC- 1.5k

Warnings- asshole H, angst, Y/N putting him in his place as usual

----

Harry knew he should be a bit more cautious when it came to Y/N but… god, how could he not try and push the envelope if it meant her maybe giving into it again? 

The reality of it was that Y/N, a girl who hated his guys most likely, had been the best fuck he’d ever had. She had blown his mind in the literal and metaphorical sense, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Fate had a funny way of working, sure, but he couldn’t be too mad considering he knew their chemistry was too good to push away completely. 

H: what do ya want from the cafe, baby doll? 

Y/N: nothing that you’ve touched. 

Harry smirked at his phone. So predictable, already back with the snarky responses. It worked him up a bit, thinking about how this snarky girl had pleaded for more, kissed him sloppily as his balls smacked against her ass and dragged her nails down his scalp. Such a sweet thing for him that night had gone right to being sour as soon as she left. 

H: ok, so you want me to lick your cake pop. Got it. 

H: it isn’t like we haven’t shared saliva before ;) 

Y/N: yeah, lick on it and then choke . Let me know how that goes so I can cancel our session this afternoon. 

The hope was to bring the sessions here one day. As much as Y/N had disdain towards him, the sparks had flown during sex. She had loved it just as much as he did- he’ll, during their last round she had pushed him on the bed and rode his cock until he was sensitive, her nail marks left on his chest for days. 

H: I’ve got something else you can choke on, baby

Y/N: I will quite literally not show up today, your grades be damned. 

His lips puffed in a pout. He was pushing it, but it was so fun to rile her up. Eventually, he hoped she would give in and like him. See the fun parts of him like other people did- but for now, he would play this game. Cat and mouse… though he wasn’t quite sure which one he was. 

H: fineeee. I’ll be good. 

For now. 

Y/N: please do. It was a mistake and we don’t need to keep bringing it up. 

It was a mistake he very much wanted to repeat, over and over again. 

H: yes, maam. I’ll see you at 2 🫡

Y/N: don’t be late, I’m serious. I have something afterwards and I can’t be late 

H: oooo, a hot date? 

Y/N: yes, actually. So don’t fuck this up or you aren’t getting your full hour. 

His smirk quickly fell. 

She was going on a date? With fucking who? 

That wasn’t in his plans. For some reason, guiltily, he hadn’t anticipated the idea of someone else making a move on the girl he wanted to fuck. Let alone her accepting. She seemed like such an ice queen with him that it led him to forget just how sweet she was to literally everyone else.

It was slightly infuriating, how everyone had nothing but good things to say about her. She was nice and she helped out this person when they moved, she helped plan this persons birthday party, she spotted this person 5 when they went to get coffee… there was no denying everyone else got the sweet parts while all the sourness was reserved for him. 

And yet, he still pushed her. Still played this game and taunted her because how the fuck else was he supposed to get her attention? He was going to have to kick it up a notch.  

——

“Who’s the date with?” He asked in the middle of their session, ignoring the paper in front of him as he looked at her. She was way more dressed up than he’d seen her at a tutoring meet before, a little skirt that brushed her thighs and a little button up tucked into it giving it a sweet but sexy combination that made him a little twitchy. 

In all honesty it had been hard to focus since he seen her today. All he could think about was how those pretty lips had been bitten and swollen from his kisses, how they’d curled around his name so fucking sweetly that it had his cock stirring at the memory. Her perfume was seemingly freshly applied and it was interfering with his brain chemistry or something, because all he wanted to do was throw the books to the side and pull her up to straddle his lap. 

He imagined her hands knocking off his SnapBack, tangling in his hair as she rode his cock right in the secluded part of the library. His hands under her skirt and gripping her plush ass yet again, unbuttoning that little shirt and leaving more marks on her skin. 

Marks he caught a glimpse of as she suddenly looked up at him. 

“His name is Derek.” She cleared her throat. “He asked me out on Monday so I decided to say yes. He’s really nice.” For some reason she looked embarrassed by the information she had divulged, like she hadn’t meant to say all of that. 

That sneaky little minx. 

“Uh huh…” he let his eyes linger on the bruising that was fading but not quite covered by the collar of her shirt. “And what is Derek going to think of this pretty little thing?” 

It was gentle, his knuckle lightly brushing over the mark he remembered sucking during the first round. He knew he had caused some nice little lovebites but that one was still healing, so it was probably a dark one. Fuck, it probably looked hot as fuck when it was first developing. “Suits you, y’know. My marks on your skin. I could put some more there, If you want.” 

He was pushing it and he knew it, getting closer to her as his nose brushed her cheek. She wasn’t pushing him away, so he counted that as a good sign. “I could take you back to my place and I could give you quite a few more. A refresher course because… I highly doubt this guy is gonna be able to make you squirt all over his dick. Which you did with me, twice.” He hummed, letting his fingers fall a bit deeper down the collar of her shirt. “I don’t think he’s going to give you what you need, princess. We already did it once and so we’ll… it would just make sense to do it again. I think we have gotten well enough acquainted that I could do the job.”

He hadn’t seen the cold drink coming. Poured all over his lap and seeping through his shorts, he yelped as the icy liquid  hit his skin. “Oi! What the fuck?” 

“I told you, last time was a one and done for this particular reason, Styles.” She snarled, grabbing her books and hurrying to shove them into her bag. “Because you’d be a fucking pig and see me as a sex object instead of a human being. I’m not some fucking challenge, I’m a girl with feelings and I- I told you, I wasn’t doing it again and it meant it!” 

“Babe- no, I wasn’t suggesting that at all. I’d never say that shit.” He tried to fight, unsure how it had gone south so fast. Apparently, he was shit at reading her cues. Worse than he originally thought. 

“You don’t have to say it. You suggest it. You don’t respect what I say. This is why I was never going to go and do anything with you. Who gives a fuck how hot you are if you’re an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t get his head out of his own ass to see exactly why people don’t like you.” Slinging her bag across her shoulder, she scowled at him. “This isn’t going to work. I’ll find you another tutor. I can deal with your stupid flirting, but throwing what we did in my face? Absolutely the fuck not.”

Harry didn’t have a chance to defend himself, feeling incredibly confused as she ran off. Any call of her name went ignored, the librarian hushing him as he made his way out of the doors but it was too late. She was god knows where. 

Who knew those legs could run so fast?

He was a little pissed that she was assuming he thought of her as some sort of object. He didn’t mean to make her feel any sort of way about it all, not thinking he was throwing it in her face, but apparently she thought so. 

H: Y/N can you please come back???

H: I didn’t mean to upset you 

H: I know I can be a dick and that’s part of our thing but I never thought of you as a sex object and I never would 

H: I didn’t think I was throwing it in your face 

H: can you answer me please????

H: I don’t want a new tutor, I want you :( 

H: y/n, cmon 

H: alright, I’ll try again tomorrow. But we need to talk. Please.

[overtail]

Hey!! Loved your last Zuko smut it was so great! Could you please make another smut where zuko joins gaang but he isn’t fully trusted yet by everyone (except from reader who saw good in him from the beginning) so every night one person keeps an eye on him and when it was reader’s turn thing turned out spicy

I would like female reader who is flirty and teasing because she alert always found him attractive

It’s okay if you don’t want to write this I just saw you asked for requests

Thank you in advance<3

THANK U FOR REQUESTING MUAH MUAH

anyways id love to do that for you hehe :3

sorry if it took a while i was sick when i got the request 😔

got silly while writing this

...

I know you - Zuko x Reader🔞

Summary: She was from the fire nation, he was the heir of it. She grew up thrown to the side, not ever accepting her true powers. When her and the Gaang take in Zuko so he can teach Aang firebending, she trusts him more than the others.

Trigger Warning: NSFW, flirting, arguing, slight bottom Zuko, Semi-public sex, both reader and zuko are awkward turtle ducks

Reader Info: Firebender who can't bend, Female intended, headstrong, flirty

...

"I really don't want to supervise Zuko tonight." Sokka grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ever since Zuko saved Aang and his friends from 'Combustion Man' or better known as 'Sparky Sparky Boom Man', nobody trusted him to sleep around them without supervision. Well, except (Y/N), but they thought she had some bias since he was fire nation.

Nobody had a single drop of respect for him. Even though he insisted that he, 'was good now', everyone believed he was a spy.

But nobody could blame them.

"I need my beauty sleep." Sokka mimicked a beauty guru as his hands framed his face. "The ladies appreciate a pretty boy."

Katara groaned, rolling her eyes. "It's your turn, Sokka." She crossed her arms, pursing her lips at him. "No one else is gonna-"

"I'll do it!" A voice quickly interrupted. Everyone turned to look at (Y/N), who was standing stiffly. She smiled awkwardly. She pinched at the hem of her pants, stepping forward. "I don't mind doing it.."

Sokka crossed his arms, raising a brow at (Y/N). Everyone was aware of the little 'crush' she had on Zuko. I mean, he was cute, he was angsty, and he was strong. Extremely short, but strong. She always took the chance to tease him.

"I mean, if you insist." Sokka walked away towards his tent, sighing softly in happiness. Rest was one of his most appreciated things in life - behind stuffing his face in food. Maybe it was because he liked the feeling of waking up in the morning, or the interesting dreams he had at night.

No one knew.

"Thanks, Sokka!" She said with a smile waving goodbye to him. "I-I mean, I'll do the job.."

As everyone headed off to their respective sleeping spots, (Y/N) listened to the quiet chirping of the crickets, looking up at the night sky as the stars glimmered. She considered whether or not she should g into Zuko's tent to check up on him (more like poke fun at him.)

While she ended an ear to the sound of the crackling flames coming from. the vampire, she heard the sound of shuffling coming from her left. (Y/N) glanced to the side, seeing Zuko climbing out from the flaps of his tent.

"Oh. Hi." He said awkwardly, holding his hand up in place of a wave. "What are you doing out here?" He questioned, wondering where Sokka was. Zuko was aware of the rotation for their watch party; Aang, Katara, Sokka, and then (Y/N). Toph didn't have the responsibility of watching Zuko since her feet were still injured from when he jumpscared him that night.

"Watching you." (Y/N) tried to play it cool, but a pool of desire filled her heart as she watched Zuko's dark hair fall in front of his amber eyes. He looked so pretty as the firelight shone on his pale skin. She started to grow pink under his gaze.

"Isn't it Sokka's turn?" Zuko stretched, his shirt lifting up to expose his stomach. (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah, but he begged me to take his turn," She lied, rubbing the back of her neck. "he's awfully tired."

Zuko nodded. He began to walk over to the log (Y/N) was sat on. (Y/N) watched as he sat next to her, his pale fingers grazing the hard bark of the seat. It was extremely cold in the area, especially since they were in a semi-cave. After the failed invasion at the palace, they had begun to stay at the western air temple. The infrastructure was odd - upside building lining the roofs of the cave.

"I'm sure you won't mind hangin' out with me." She elbowed him, smirking. "Us being fire nation and all."

Zuko turned to look at her, a brown raised in confusion. "You're from the fire nation?" He asked, tilting his head. It was as if he was inspecting her. "You don't seem like it."

(Y/N) shrugged, glancing up at him. "Yeah. I mean, my family was banished when I was pretty young. But I'm still fire nation." She sighed, resting her chin on her hand, Her elbow dug into the skin of her knee, but she didn't mind. "Do you know Gender Jin?" She asked.

With a nod, Zuko said, "Yeah, why?"

Genera. Jin had been banished from the fire nation twelve years ago, whe Zuko was four. He had committed treason against Azulon, Zuko's grandfather, for having a child with a waterbender. Apparently, he was also accused of planning attacks on the fire nation with the northern water tribe during this time. It was never confirmed, but the speculation was brought up a whole lot.

"That's my Dad." (Y/N) said, sighing softly, Zuko let out a small 'oh', surprised at this.

"Are you-"

"The infamous forbidden child? Yep. Yes-sir-ee." (Y/N) interjected. She already knew what he was going to say. The word was passed around almost the whole world when it happened, since the fire nations grasp infiltrated every nation in some manner. She knew what her name was. She knew what people thought of her.

"The rumors of me being a firebender and a water bender aren't true." Zuko looked at her, surprised that she knew this. "I'm just a plain ole' firebender."

There was an awkward silence between the two. There was not much to say, at least off the top of their heads.

(Y/N) perked up, looking over at Zuko. "Do you think you could teach me some tricks?" She said excitedly. Zuko was caught of guard by this.

"Tricks? What do you mean?" He asked, wanting her to elaborate. He was looking for practice with a firebender lately, so this might be fun.

"Like, could you teach me?" (Y/N) looked away with an embarrassed face. Her father never told her firebending; he wanted her to live a normal life as a kid.

"You mean you don't know anything?" Zuko laughed in disbelief. "Anything at all?"

"Yeah.." (Y/N) grumbled, pursing her lips slightly. "I'm ashamed of it - I can admit it. But I wouldn't mind if you taught me some things." She wiggled her brows, smirking slightly as she glanced at him. Zuko flattened his lips.

"I mean, I don't have much to do." Zuko pushed off of the seat, leaning forward and standing up fully. He glanced down at (Y/N). He reached his hand out, offering it to her. "Come on."

...

They walked into a small clearing, the cold night wind blowing their hair back and forth. They had climbed above the cliff the western air temple hung from, where a large valley rested.

Zuko had removed the robe that hung over his clothes. His arms were exposed, small goosebumps lining his arms.

(Y/N)'s eyes graced his body, her face growing red from both the cold air and his body.

"Already undressing?" She teased, crossing her arms and grinning. "Take me out to dinner first."

Zuko glanced over to her, a frown appearing on his face. "W-what?" He said, shifting uncomfortably.

"I mean, I get that I'm the prettiest girl here - no offense to Katara." (Y/N) walked over, smirking. "but you barely know me Prince Zuko." She poked him on the chest jokingly. (Y/N) leaned on her legs her hip popping out.

Zuko huffed out a fiery breath (no pun intended), looking to the side. "Do you want to learn or not?"

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. She stepped back, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, yeah." She shook her arms nervously, stepping back and getting into a fighting stance.

"Fire bending is all about- what are you doing?" Zuko stopped mid sentence, looking at (Y/N).

"Uhm, getting into a stance?" She said awkwardly, looking to the ground.

"No, no. You're to open." Zuko stepped forward. He grabbed her wrists, pulling them down in front of her chest. "You're leaving your body open to hits." He walked behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

She shivered, the feeling of his fingers gracing her skin. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, his palms touching the lower part of her shoulders. "You opponents have the opportunity to knock you to the ground." Zuko placed his right foot on the inside of her legs. The toe of his shoe pressed against the heel of her foot, pushing it slightly.

"You want to be low.." He whispered into her neck, pushing her shoulders down so she was more level to the ground.

Was he doing this on purpose? (Y/N)'s heartbeat was audible in her ears, but she wasn't the only one who's blood was pumping from this interaction.

As she moved down her backside rubbed against Zuko's crotch lightly. He let out a small gasp, his eye twitching at the feeling.

(Y/N) smirked at the sound, realizing the affect she had on Zuko. What could she do with this? A lonely teenage boy? She was sure he wouldn't mind.

"Ope, sorry Zuko." She said slyly. She bent her knees even more, her ass pushing onto Zuko's growing erection.

Zuko shifted back uncomfortably, their contact breaking.

(Y/N) turned around, standing up fully. "Oh c'mon Zuko, i need you to show me how to do this." She smirked, her foot digging into the grass.

"I know what you're doing." Zuko said, his face growing red under the pale moonlight. His eyes scanned her, and unimpressed looked overcoming him.

"What am I doing?" She teased, a finger pressing onto Zuko's chest. "Tell me."

Zuko's face held a look of frustration. His eyes met hers, his eyebrows furrowing together. There was a hot tension between the two of them, healing the goosebumps on their skin from the cold night air.

The digit placed on his chest soon turned into (Y/N)'s entire hand. She took a step closer to him, causing Zuko to let out a shaky breath.

Even with her confidant pseudo, (Y/N)'s stomach was filled with a nervous sickness. She had no idea what she was doing - letting her desire lead her.

"You're trying to turn me on." Zuko muttered, keeping his voice low.

"It's working though, isn't it?" (Y/N) barked back.

Zuko's face flushed slightly, clearly caught off guard by your boldness. "I assure you, that wasn't my intention. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"No. Zuko, come on.." She said, a shaky breath huffing from my red nose. "Were so alike."

Zuko hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the ground. "How so?"

"Were both refugees from a country that thrived on evil." Her arm traveled from his chest to his arm. (Y/N) watched as he flinched slightly. Her eyes made contact with his. "And you know what Sokka says about us behind our backs."

Zuko swallowed hard, his heart racing as he felt your touch. He knew what Sokka thought of them - that they were both damaged goods from a twisted world. Despite the danger and uncertainty, there was something undeniably compelling about this connection.

"I like you Zuko." She said, smiling softly. Her seductive shell cracked, shower her sweetness hidden inside.

Zuko looked into her eyes, feeling a familiar pain in his heart. Here was someone else who knew what it was like to be an outcast, to carry the burden of a nation's sins. "I like you too," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I trust you, too." She sighed, squeezing his arm gently. "They didn't trust me either at first."

Zuko's heart skipped a beat at her words. Trust was a rare and precious thing in their world, where betrayal lurked around every corner. But she was offering it to him freely, without judgment or fear. "Thank you," he breathed out softly.

She leaned forward, placing a soft peck on Zuko's lips. A warm feeling flooded through their bodies, the world around them feeling almost unrecognizable as they sat in the moment.

Zuko froze for a moment, shocked by the unexpected kiss. But as he felt her lips on his, he found himself responding, leaning in to deepen the kiss. The warmth spread through him, filling the cold void that had been there for so long.

She grabbed his face, bringing him down to kiss Zuko deeply. (Y/N) let out a huff from her nose, letting her fingers comb through Zuko's dark hair.

Zuko's hands found their way to her waist, pulling (Y/N) closer as he kissed her back with all the pent-up longing and desire that had been building inside him for so long.

As the kiss deepened, Zuko felt a fire ignite within him, burning away the coldness and isolation that had defined his life for so long. He wrapped his arms around (Y/N), pulling her closer still as he explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting her sweetness.

As she broke away from the kiss, their breaths mingled in the air between them. Zuko felt his heart racing, a wild and unfamiliar sensation.

Zuko looked into her eyes, seeing a reflection of his own turmoil and desire. He couldn't believe what was happening, but he didn't want it to stop. His hands roamed down her back, pulling her even closer as he whispered, "I need you."

"Show me." She whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Zuko dragged her onto the grass with him, never breaking the kiss.

Zuko pulled her onto his lap, cradling her body against his as he deepened the kiss once more. His hands trailed down (Y/N)'s sides, pushing up her shirt to reveal her soft skin beneath.

Feeling emboldened by her invitation and his own burning need, Zuko slid his hands underneath her shirt, tracing circles on her bare back. His lips moved hungrily against hers as he lost himself in the sensation of her skin against his fingertips.

Zuko's hands continued their exploration, moving lower to grasp her hips as he pulled her even closer. He could feel the heat between her legs, and it fueled his desire even more.

With a groan, Zuko slipped his hand beneath her shorts, feeling the softness of her thighs and the wetness between them. He couldn't believe how much he wanted her, how badly he needed to be inside (Y/N).

"Shit, Zuko.." She said between heated kisses, fingers pulling at his soft hair.

Zuko growled against her lips as he continued to touch her, his other hand sliding up (Y/N)'s leg to knead at her ass cheek. He could feel himself growing hard against her leg and he knew he had to have her soon.

"This isn't how I expected this night to go." She played with Zuko, his lips connecting with the soft skin of her neck.

Zuko chuckled breathlessly, his lips trailing down her neck to nibble at her collarbone. "Neither did I," he admitted, his voice husky with desire.

"Is this how you practice back home?" (Y/N) said, her feet digging in the dirt behind Zuko.

Zuko laughed softly against her skin. "No," he replied, his voice still rough with lust. "But I think I'd like to make it a regular practice here."

(Y/N) moaned slightly when Zuko's hips bucked into hers. "Ill watch over you more often then."

Zuko's eyes darkened with desire as he heard her words, and he couldn't resist bucking his hips against hers a little harder. "I'd like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As she pulled back a little, Zuko took the opportunity to stand up, his hands sliding up her back to grip your shoulders. He looked down at her with an intense gaze, his eyes full of the burning passion that had overtaken him. "Take me to your bed,"

"We can't. We'll wake the others." She smirked, grabbing onto Zuko's wrist.

A growl rumbled in Zuko's chest at the reminder of their surroundings. But he knew she was right. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Then we'll make do with this," he said, reaching down to scoop (Y/N) up in his arms.

Zuko's heart was racing as he carried you deep into the nearby forest, away from the edge of the cliff. "To a quiet spot," he replied, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "A place where we can be even more alone."

He came to a small clearing where the trees thinned out, revealing a bed of soft moss and leaves. Gently, he lowered (Y/N) down onto it, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he joined her, pressing his body against hers.

(Y/N) pulled down her shorts and underwear, the cold hair hitting her exposed sex.

"Just get on with it, Zuko." She groaned, rolling her eyes.

Zuko chuckled softly against your lips before pulling back slightly to give you a teasing grin. "Always so impatient," he teased as he slowly unbuttoned his pants, sliding down his pants along with his boxers. He sprang free, a bead of pre-cum on his tip.

"Spirits.." She whispered at the sight of him, how he was throbbing at the sight of her.

Zuko's gaze locked onto yours as he positioned himself between her legs, his hard length rubbing against her slick entrance. "You ready for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You tell me."

With a groan, Zuko pushed forward, slowly entering (Y/N). Her tight heat enveloped him, and he fought the urge to slam all the way inside. Instead, he began to move in and out of her slowly, enjoying the sensation of being joined with her.

(Y/N)'s hands found their way to his chest, and she leaned into him, moaning softly. The feeling of being filled by him was indescribable, and as he picked up speed, driving deeper inside her with each thrust, she felt herself getting closer to the edge.

She could feel Zuko's muscles tensing as he neared his climax, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. His other hand found its way to her clit, massaging it gently as he continued to pound into her. "I'm close."

"Already?" She teased, trying to maintain a sarcastic demeaner as she let out erratic moans.

With a chuckle, Zuko leaned down to kiss her again as he pulled almost all the way out of her before slamming back in. "You like that?" he asked breathlessly.

She screamed, her nails scratching at Zuko's back until white marks appeared - lighter than his skin.

Feeling her nails dig into his skin, Zuko lost control completely. With a primal growl, he pushed her down onto the ground and continued to pound into her, taking what he wanted with no regard for her comfort or pleasure.

He was like a rabid animal, like this was the thing he needed to live.

Her screams of pleasure and pain echoed through the forest as Zuko continued to take her roughly, losing himself in the sensation of being inside her. He could feel his release building, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"Zuko!" She clenched around him, being pulled over the edge as she shook. Her orgasm washed over her, (Y/N)'s eyes clenching tightly.

Feeling her walls clenching around him, Zuko let out a guttural moan as he emptied himself inside her. His thrusts became erratic and forceful, his body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

Finally, Zuko's movements slowed down, and he collapsed beside her, panting heavily. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal as he nuzzled into her neck, still inside her. "That was... intense," he whispered against her skin.

"Ya think?" Her chest rose up and down as she still huffed. (Y/N) tried to catch her breath, but she was sweating from the intensity.

Zuko chuckled softly, feeling his cock twitch inside her. "I think," he said with a smirk. After a few moments, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side, still panting heavily. "So... how do you feel?"

(Y/N) faked a deep thought for a moment, looking away from him. "Eh. It was fine." She smirked at him, causing Zuko to roll his eyes.

"So.. you were scratching at my back because you hated it so much?" He played, kissing her neck softly.

"For sure." She sighed, playing with his hair.

The two teens lay there, panting heavily as the moonlight illuminated their skin. Their bodies were tangled but not in a hurry to separate. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, their need for each other overruled everything. They could return in the morning, nobody would notice - right?

...

[garciaasfluffypen]

jealousy jealousy

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 1.8k warnings: men are creeps!!! protect your drinks ladies and femme presenting humans, alcohol mention, attempted drink stealing, alludes to dynamics in the bedroom (jj hates being called mommy*), #topjjrights, reader has long enough hair that jj can hold onto it, female leaning terms of endearment a/n: i tried to keep this gender neutral as possible, though there is ONE line where i couldn't think of anything better than "our girl" so that's what it ended up being. request from this ask *(yes thats a callout to aj not knowing what the term "mother" means)

the case felt like it had lasted ten years. it was one of the longest ones you could remember working on, spending almost three weeks rotating through the same six outfits you had packed in your go-bag and occasionally stealing your girlfriends’ shirts. it was only fair that morgan decided to take everyone to the bar before the jet left in the morning. you and morgan were approximately three beers in when everyone else started trickling in. your eyes fell to your girlfriends, the two of them walking over to the bar before they came over to the booth you and morgan had claimed in the corner. you knew their orders by heart. emily would get whatever the fanciest looking drink the bartender could make was, and jj would go for whatever was on tap. you typically got whatever they wanted to order for you, which most of the time was something fruity. it didn’t matter to you, since it meant your girlfriends were taking care of you. 

they made their way over to your table, both of them sneaking an arm around your waist and leaning into you. you made sure to press a kiss into jj’s neck and then promptly placed one on emily’s cheek, knowing all too well you would start something you couldn’t exactly finish at that moment if you went anywhere near emily’s jaw when she had alcohol in her system. the three of you curled up together in the corner, happily striking up a conversation with your teammates. eventually, morgan decided everyone needed shots and made his way over to the bar to grab everyone a round of shots. you usually didn’t do shots, but decided why the fuck not. a few shots wouldn’t hurt you. as long as you didn’t get sick on the plane like last time you went out drinking with morgan, everything would be fine. 

three drinks in and everyone was starting to feel it. you knew your tolerance was a bit higher than your girlfriends, but you felt it slipping considering you hadn’t eaten a single thing since breakfast and it was currently getting close to being midnight. was it a good idea? probably not. but that was a problem for tomorrow. your fingers twirled through jj’s blonde hair as you leaned into her side, emily slipping out to follow morgan and make sure he could carry all the shots he was about to order. sometimes you wondered where the man kept his extra drinking money, but decided not to question it since the alcohol was free for you. jj’s fingers danced along your thigh, moving up a bit til they were on your hip. you leaned your head back into her shoulder, a silent plea for her to continue what she was doing. 

jj knew exactly what happened when she got alcohol in your system, the game getting more and more dangerous by the minute. it was almost as if they had planned to get you going, knowing all too well that you would drag them out to the dance floor at some point and let all the tension flow from your body as you danced with them. your arms would always end up wrapped around jj’s neck while emily pressed up behind you, her arms wrapping around the two of you protectively while you danced to the beat of the music. jj nipped at your ear, her grip on your hip tightening as she waited for the alcohol to hit your system. emily appeared to catch on the second she and morgan got back to the table, sliding back into her spot and resting a hand on your upper thigh. her other hand went to play with the hair at the nape of your neck, another thing that would get you out to the dance floor rather quickly. you reached out to your cup for another sip, not noticing until you put it to your lips that it was pure ice. with a small pout, you shimmied yourself out from your girlfriend’s grasps. clocking morgan talking to a group of girls a few tables over, you silently told your girlfriends you’d be back as you made your way over to him. 

“i’m getting another drink! your tab still open?” 

“you know it hot mamas. get what you want!” 

with a smile and an appreciative peck to morgan’s cheek, you made your way to the back of the club where the bar was. you took a minute to scan the people around you, barely clocking the group of young twenty somethings in the corner who had been staring at your group all night. the vodka in your system from the shots you had taken was finally starting to hit, and all you wanted to do was drink, dance and forget the past three weeks had ever happened. you, emily and jj had barely had time to spend with each other, only scraping by precious moments in the hotel room as you all cuddled in bed together. sure, you had snuck away to get chinese one night, but it wasn’t the same since you were all technically on call. but now that the case was done, you had planned on spending the next week snuggled up in the arms of your favorite people with silly romcoms on in the background. 

while you longed to be in the hotel laying in bed with a bottle of emily’s favorite wine and a six pack of jj’s favorite beer to be split between the three of you, you had to admit it was nice to get out and let loose. sometimes you needed to get way too much alcohol in your system and sweat your ass off dancing to stupid pop hits. and the fact you were doing it with some of your closest friends was a bonus. was it silly to say your coworkers were some of your closest (and only) friends? sure. but it was the truth. you spent so much of your life surrounded by them, it was only fair that they were top priority on your short list of people who were allowed to see you with your walls down. especially emily and jj. they wiggled their way into your life and intertwined themselves so intricately that it was going to be nearly impossible to get them out. 

turning around, you felt an arm slip around your lower back as you waited for the bartender. you stiffened, trying to make it clear to whoever was behind you that you were indeed starting to become uncomfortable. 

“how’s it going, cute stuff? rough week?” 

a dry chuckle fell from your lips. “you could say that.” 

“what are you drinking? i’ll get you one.” 

“you’re very nice, but i’m spoken for.” you turned away from him, flagging down the now free bartender. 

in the back of your mind, you could feel jj and emily’s eyes on you as the man edged closer and closer. you wished you had gotten one of them to come up with you, but it was too late now. you had ventured up here yourself, thinking that nothing bad would come of it. boy were you wrong. the bartender got you a new drink, putting it on morgan’s tab. you went to reach for it before you were interrupted. 

“let me take this back to your table, sweetheart.” the man reached for your drink, not even waiting for you to answer. 

“absolutely the fuck not.” you grabbed his wrist, pressing into his pulse point. 

“aw come on, just let me take it for you.” 

“you must not of heard me when i said i’m spoken for.” 

“that’s what they all say. and hey, if there’s no label, it doesn’t mean anything.” 

as if on cue, jj came up to you and wrapped her arms around your waist. “is this man bothering you, sweetheart?” 

“mmm,” a cheeky smile appeared on your face. “just a little bit, mommy.” 

you were absolutely poking a sleeping bear, considering jj hated being called mommy. however, you needed to fend off the man in front of you, and what better way to do that then to get jj all pissy and controlling? you could feel her demeanor change, her hand sneaking up your back until she had her hand wrapped around your hair. 

“is that so? you do remember who you came here with, right?”

“i do.” 

“who are you here with?” 

“you. and emmy.” the man's eyebrows raised as you reacted to your hair being tugged. 

emily appeared on the other side of jj. “what’s going on here?” 

“some dickhead is trying to steal our girl.” jj practically spit out the sentence. “had to put y/n in their place, they were going along with it.” 

that was totally a lie, but the man didn’t have to know this was exactly the game you three typically played when people were hitting on you. 

emily grabbed at your chin. “you do remember who you belong to, yes darling?” 

“yes,” you nodded. “i do.” 

“then why were you flirting with…” emily looked the man up and down. “that?” 

you fell into the part quite easily. “i didn’t mean to, i swear!” 

out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw the guy pop a boner. you tapped jj’s leg twice, your signal that it was unfortunately not working as well as they planned it to. 

“go back to the table, lovey.” jj let go of your hair, taking your drink from your hand. “i’ll get you another one, considering this man child tried to take it from you. can’t trust men these days.” 

“hey, now that’s a big accusation-”

“accusation or not,” emily stepped closer to the man. “it’s never okay to steal anyone’s drink. no matter how nice you’re being. and by the way, it’s a criminal offense, and all three of us work for the fbi.” 

the man stiffened as emily patted him on the shoulder, grabbing you and pulling you close. you leaned into emily’s shoulder, hiding your face slightly as you let out a shuddering breath. it had been a hot minute since you had come that close to getting your drink spiked. it was a miracle you were still standing and not halfway slumped over some random guy’s backseat on their way downtown to do whatever they wanted with you. but your girlfriends had come to your rescue, and that’s all that mattered. 

jj handed you your new drink. “you okay, lovey?”

“i am. sorry i had to pull the mommy card. i know you don’t like it.” 

“you know i’d slip into any role you needed me to, right? bedroom or not, i’m yours.” 

“the same goes for me. whatever you need me to do to make sure you’re safe, i’ll do it.”

“promise?”

“promise.” jj and emily both squeezed your hands. “do you want to stay or go back to the hotel?”

“can we go back to the hotel? i’ll down my drink first but-”

“don’t worry, i stuck your water bottle in my purse. come back to the table, put your drink in there and we’ll head back, yeah?” 

you smiled. “gods, what would i do without you?”

jj wrapped her arms around you. “hopefully there’s never a world where you’d have to find out.”

[aynavaano]

Tell me you want me

Hunter x f!reader

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Wordcount: 3.5k

Summary:

You’re part of Clone Force 99 since a while and have an eye on your Sarge ever since you joined. When you are left alone with him skinny dipping in natural hot springs, things get steamy.

Notes:

Enjoy this little Hunterxf!reader smutlet while we all anxiously wait for the final episode to drop. Reader is part of the squad, she is their medic and has a nickname. All other Batchers make an appearance too. We have fingering and unprotected sex. All happening in the water.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, you and the squad finally retreat back into the Marauder, weary from another grueling day of repairs after your crash landing a few rotations ago. Dropping your tools with a clatter in the corner, you sink down onto the floor, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. The day's work has left you covered in a film of sweat and grime, your skin sticky with oil and dust, again.

"If I have to endure one more shower with that recycled water, I swear..." you mutter under your breath, frustration lacing your words. Despite the pressing need to fill up your rations and change the water in the Marauders system or at least the filters, there was no way off this kriffing rock before you got the ship back up and running. The overly recycled water, depleted and stale, left you feeling far worse than without a shower since the last days.

Suddenly, Tech's voice cuts through the exhaustion, his tone matter-of-fact as he suggests an alternative. "There are geothermal hot springs just a couple of clicks south from here, they are perfectly safe to utilize for personal hygiene," he remarks, drawing everyone's attention.

Wrecker's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "So that's where you've been sneaking off to in the evenings," he says, earning a knowing nod from Tech.

"Why didn't you mention THAT before?" you inquire, taken aback by the revelation. Tech shrugs nonchalantly.

"Nobody asked me and you all seemed content with the ship's refresher,besides I didn’t sneak off I just went there, " he replies simply, earning an eye-roll from Crosshair and a sigh from Hunter.

"Well, looks like we're all going tonight," Hunter declares, scanning the room as everyone nods eagerly. However, Tech interjects with an apologetic tone.

"Except for Echo. I'm sorry, but the mineral composition of the water isn't compatible with your mechanical parts." Echo sighs resignedly.

"Well, Someone has to watch the ship anyway," he remarks, grabbing a ration bar before retreating to the cockpit.

Watching him leave, Hunter urges everyone else to gather their essentials as you prepare for the trip to the hot springs.

Following Tech's lead, you traverse through a dense thicket of trees and across a rugged terrain, the distant plumes of steam already signaling the promise of warm, rejuvenating waters.

When you finally arrive at the steaming natural pools, happiness surges through your veins, eager to immerse yourself in the warm, relaxing waters. You swiftly cast your bag aside and quickly shed your clothes, opting for a skinny dip - a necessity, given that swimwear isn’t something provided by the GAR. But the night is dark enough to conceal your naked body, the dense steam rising from the water further obscuring any view.

As the squad's medic, you've seen them in various states of undress during countless check-ups or emergencies, but you've managed to maintain your own privacy, determined not to stir up any trouble within the group. However, you can’t deny that you have a weak spot for your Sergeant ever since you joined them and enjoyed patching him up a bit too much.

The sound of water splashing nearby interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to see Wrecker paddling around eagerly. "Come on in Mini, it's amazing. We won't peek, I promise," he assures you with a boisterous grin. You chuckle at the affectionate nickname he gave you a while ago, and the others quickly adopted, not wrongly, given that you are barely more than half his size.

With a contented sigh, you lower yourself into the soothing embrace of the hot spring, feeling the tension melt away from your weary muscles. The clean, refreshing sensation of the water provides a stark contrast to the sticky residue left behind by the Marauder's recycled water and it feels incredibly good to finally get rid of it.

Occasionally, a gentle breeze disperses the swirling steam, offering you fleeting glimpses of your crew mates. Your gaze lingers on Hunter, captivated by the droplets cascading from his tousled hair, now freed from his bandana. You trace the lines of his tattoo down over his broad chest as they disappear beneath the surface of the dark water. Despite your best efforts to remain discreet, you find yourself locked in a momentary exchange of gazes with Crosshair, his piercing eyes betraying a knowing awareness.

Your breath catches in your throat as Crosshair maintains his gaze, his lips curling into a sly grin. Wrecker interjects, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Cut it out, Crosshair. You're making her uncomfortable. We promised not to look," he scolds, casting a wary glance in your direction.

“You did” Crosshair hisses at Wrecker before turning his attention back to you, his tone teasing. "Like what you see, Mini?" he quips, his confidence evident, that smug bastard you think to yourself and attempt to muster a confident response in return, but the slight tremor in your voice is betraying you. "Nothing I haven't seen while patching you all up," you retort, hoping to deflect his attention.

“Sure” he groans with a mischievous glint in his eyes but thankfully, he decides to let the matter drop, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the warm embrace of the water, trying to hide your reddened cheeks. Casting a fleeting glance skyward, you marvel at the sight of two moons ascending over the horizon, casting a serene silvery blue glow over the landscape.

Before long, Tech emerges from the water, signaling for the group to prepare to depart. You, however, are reluctant to leave the comforting embrace of the hot springs just yet.

"Already? Can't we stay a bit longer?" you plead, attempting to negotiate for more time.

"It was ample time to get clean," Tech responds, his tone firm. "And we have another full day of repairs before we can leave this planet. You need at least seven standard hours of sleep to—"

You cut him off, feeling frustration bubbling up. "Stop it, Tech," you interject firmly, your disappointment evident.

"I'm only concerned for your well-being," Tech counters, his concern genuine.

"I know, I'm sorry," you answer, softening your tone. "I didn't mean to sound so annoyed. It's just... I can't remember the last time we had something like this. I'd like to soak in the warm water a bit longer. My whole body is sore from our crash, and this feels so good," you explain, hoping to convey your genuine need for relaxation.

Tech hesitates. “I understand, but it’s too dangerous to leave you here alone, besides the way back to the Marauder is …”.

"It's okay, Tech. You go. I'll stay here with her," a voice rings through the thick steam from behind you.

Hunter.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected offer, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the thought of him and you being here alone.

It takes a moment for the rest of them to processes his proposition. Finally, Tech breaks the silence "That is an acceptable solution," he states, his usual pragmatic tone cutting through the night.

Relieved you allow yourself to sink back into the soothing warmth of the hot springs, the steam enveloping you like a comforting embrace. In the background, you hear the others bustling about, dressing and gathering their belongings. Amidst the activity, you catch snatches of conversation and you could swear you heard Wrecker grumbling that he also wants to stay, interrupted by a sharp retort from Crosshair.

"Alright," Tech announces, drawing your attention. "We're heading back. I'll leave the comm open in case of unforeseen events. Regardless, please remember it is not recommended to stay longer than two standard hours in water with this temperature" and with that, the group begins their trek back to the Marauder, leaving you and Hunter alone in the quiet of the night.

As the sounds of their footsteps fade into the distance, a slightly uncomfortable silence descends, punctuated only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. It’s not the first time you’re alone with Hunter, but THIS, this is different and you are trying to control your heartbeat knowing very well that he can pick that up with his heightened senses.

“Thank you for staying with me Hunter” you whisper through the thick steam wafting over the pool. The thought of him naked in the water, just a few steps away from you sends a shiver through your whole body and you feel the heat pooling between your legs.

Stars, stay calm you try to control the visions overtaking you, flashes of his naked body and his hands all over you flickering through your mind.

You try to catch another glimpse at him past the billowing steam and through an opening you see him slowly treading through the water towards you, his eyes locking on yours, a look of concern on his face. The water reaches barely up to his lower stomach, exposing an ungodly amount of his luscious body, his caramel skin, toned chest and a tempting trail of hair running down his abdomen now illuminated by the silvery glow of the moons, you can’t break your gaze away but you are close to loosing control completely now.

“For someone happily relaxing in a hot bath your heart rate is concerningly high. Are you uncomfortable? Did you change your mind, do you want me to take you back to the Marauder?”

“No, I…I want to stay” is all you can stumble. Him being so concerned and caring is only adding fuel to the fire already burning inside you.

Hunter is right before you now, scanning your face for any signs of distress but the only thing he finds is your bright pink cheeks and dilated pupils.

He carefully brushes a loose strand of your hair from your face, his hand lingering a bit too long to go unnoticed.

“Is this because of me?” he whispers softly, a hint of trepidation in his voice. He lost count of how often he wanted to ask you this, when he felt your heart jump at his touch, when he sensed your eyes lingering on him, but he didn’t dare, knowing a no would destroy him. So he decided to remain oblivious instead of getting hurt. Until now.

You gaze up at him and there is no denying anymore, no hiding, so you nod, not able to voice what you feel for him. That you want him so badly.

And before you know whats happening his lips are on yours. His kiss is soft but quickly getting hungrier and messier. He pulls you closer to him sliding one arm around your waist and you intuitively wrap your legs around him feeling his already hardening cock pressing against your core.

He gasps at the sensation of you grinding your hips against him and breaks away from the kiss, looking deep into your eyes.

“Tell me you want this," Hunter's voice is a low, urgent whisper, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you want me."

You lean back in to kiss him, desperate for his lips on yours and hungry for more but he breaks away again, searching your face for an answer.

“I’m your Sarge, I don’t want to take advantage of you, I need to hear you say it. Say you want me and I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his intense gaze. "I do, Hunter," you reply without hesitation, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want nothing more than you."

Before you can even finish your words, he pulls you closer again, his arms wrapping around you possessively. The warmth of his embrace fueling your hunger for him and when his lips crash against yours in another searing kiss, you melt into him completely, his tongue trailing along your lips pleating for access.

Your tongues entwine and Hunter's touch feeds the fire within you, every caress sending sparks of heat coursing through your veins. You feel his hands hungrily roaming over your body, down your chest, gently cupping your breasts, leaving a trail of longing wherever they touch you.

His hands slide down to your hips, one hand cupping your ass, pulling you closer as his lips trail down your neck, leaving a line of open mouthes kisses and soft bites in their wake. With each movement, you feel yourself melting into him, your body craving more of his touch and your pussy aching desperately for his attention.

"Stars, you feel amazing," Hunter murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I've been wanting this for so long."

A soft moan escapes your lips at his words, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water around you. You feel his fingers trailing down to your throbbing core and you can't help but arch into his touch, desperately yearning for more.

He carefully slides his fingers between your slick folds, teasing your clit with a slow gentle rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, quickly building a tension that threatens to unravel you completely in his arms.

He keeps you steady, his strong arms easily holding you up, the water flowing around you, fingers trailing through your slit and finally with a slow, deliberate motion, he slides one finger inside you, giving you a taste of what you so desperately want. You gasp at the sensation of him entering you and arch into his hand, aching for more friction.

"Stars, you're so wet for me," Hunter whispers, his voice low and breathless.

You can't help but beg for more, craving the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up completely. And as he picks up the pace and slides in another finger, you feel your body tightening, getting ready to explode with pleasure.

"Kriff, I love how responsive you are to my touch." he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your neck.

You let out a few lewd moans and gasps at his words, the sensation of his fingers driving you completely crazy. With each thrust, you feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable in its intensity. The tension in your core almost reaching it’s snapping point, two fingers pushing inside you and his thumb rubbing your clit.

And then, with a flick of his wrist, Hunter finds that perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Waves of ecstasy wash over you, rippling through your whole body, leaving you trembling in the wake of your orgasm as you cling to him for support.

“Stars, do you know how beautiful you look cuming all over my fingers?” he moans against your skin, looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.

He slowly slides his fingers out of you to steady you against his chest while you catch your breath. You let out a low whine when he slips out of your core, leaving you feeling empty, and immediately desperate for more. You fumble around trying to reach his cock but he firmly holds you up, both hands under your thighs, his face buried between your breasts.

“Hungry, are we?” he grins up at you, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and sliding his fingers over your wet folds aching to be stretched again, drawing a couple of lewd sounds from you.

You tilt your head back when he captures your other nipple between his teeth and finally pulls you closer until you're straddling him in the water, your bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. You feel the pressure of his rock hard cock straining against your core, fueling your hunger for him even more.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a breathless moan, impatiently wiggling around in his arms to line him up at your entrance. When he carefully bites down on your neck, leaving a mark, while squeezing your breast with one hand, you are completely loosing any kind of self control, you might as well just beg.

"Hunter, kriff…please…fuck me"

He looks up finding your gaze and without a word, he guides himself inside you with a single deep thrust, his huge cock stretching you in all the right ways as he fills you completely. You gasp at the sensation of your pussy stretching around him, your body arching into his as he begins to move, each thrust giving you more of what you’ve been longing for ever since you joined the squad. He starts slowly, not far from teasing you, pulling out almost completely a few times, until only his tip rest inside you and then slamming back in until he is buried to the hilt.

The water around you amplifies every sensation, the gentle rocking motion only adding to the intensity of his thrusts. He increases his pace and with each push of his hips against yours, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, your pussy already clenching around him.

“Fuck, not gonna last long like this” he groans “ …y..you feel too good around my cock…so tight…been dreaming about this too often…”

"I'm close," you whimper, your voice barely above a desperate plea. "Please, Hunter, don't stop."

With a low growl against your neck, he increases the intensity, each thrust pushing you further towards the brink of oblivion. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, grinding your hips against his, to take him as deep as possible until you feel the tip of his cock deliciously pressing against your cervix with every thrust. You wrap your arms around his neck your fingers finding hold in his hair, as you begin shaking, and with a shuddering gasp, you feel the tension in you snap and the first wave of pleasure crashing over you with an intensity you haven’t felt before, stars exploding before your eyes, your whole body trembling as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his cock without slowing down.

He keeps fucking you through your high, drawing more moans and gasps from you until you feel him tense too, his length pressing even harder against your walls.

“Where do you want me?” he gasps.

“Inside” is all you can get out with a loud moan, your pussy still clenching around his cock and you feel Hunter's own release echoing yours, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. With a final thrust, he spills himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his warm cum as you both ride out the waves of pleasure ripping through you together.

You cling to each other, panting, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You let your fingers trail through his hair and softly trace the lines of his tattoo looking at him in awe, completely blissed out. He let’s his forehead rest against yours and you are exchanging soft loving kisses when you suddenly hear your comms crackle from somewhere beside the pool.

“Hunter are you listening… Hunter…Mini… “

“noooo Tech…leave them” you hear clattering and a voice in the background

“Hunter do you hear me? Even though Crosshair suggested you are not solely bathing but possibly engaging in intercourse I recommend you get out of the water. The time you spent there is unacceptable and will negatively affect your blood circulation. Mini… I’m sure you know that, you’re the medic. Do you hear me? It’s clearly been too long. Get out of ther…” the comm crackles again, weird noises and mumbling in the background until you hear Crosshair.

“Sorry for the interruption Sarge, I couldn’t stop him, just give us a sign when you’re headed back” and with that the comm falls silent again.

You can’t help but blush, feeling a bit exposed before the whole squad not even knowing where this is going or if it was just a one time thing. You desperately hope it’s not, when you said you want him, you meant it but you’re to afraid to ask how he is feeling, so you just revel in the heat radiating from his body drinking up every scent, every detail while it lasts, legs still wrapped around his waist, holding him close, fingers trailing trough his hair. Hunter nestles his head in your neck, pulling you even closer to his chest, leaving a few soft kisses along the way while his softening cock is slowly slipping out of you.

“Let’s get back to the Marauder then” he murmurs against your skin, “at least it seems they already suspect whats going on and appear to be ok with us being together…sleep in my bunk tonight?”

Your heart beams at his question, pounding in your chest.

“Guess that’s a yes” he chuckles, giving you one last loving kiss before he sets you on the edge of the pool to get ready for heading back to the ship.

[scientia-rex]

I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

[writing-for-marvel]

Everyone's Watching Him (But He's Looking At Her) (4)

Actor!Bucky Barnes × Assistant!Fem!Reader

< < PART 3 | Series Masterlist | PART 5 > >

Summary: Bucky begrudgingly undertakes his press tour and PR relationship with Sharon as you question if you can continue your job whilst watching him fall in love with someone else.

Warnings: shy & insecure reader, angst, idiots in love, miscommunication, soft fluff and an extremely happy ending 👀

Word count: 4.0k

A/N: photo credit by @bwsebastianstan, dividers by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

You can’t even look at him.

That’s what destroys Bucky the most.

The past week he’s been completely deprived of the soothing comfort he feels when your eyes meet his in a crowded room.

You’re seemingly so disgusted that he would stoop so low as to fake an entire relationship to promote some stupid movie that you can’t even look at him.

Between all the cameramen, producers, make up artists and rotating allotment of interviewers, whose eyes are all focussed on him, you’re the only person in the room who isn’t gazing in his direction, when your attention is the only one he cares about.

Each time he looks up, eyes instinctively searching for you, it feels like a dagger twisting in his heart to find you’re still acting as if he’s not there. Bucky’s found himself perpetually stuck in your blind spot, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt as alone and desperate for someone to notice him whilst simultaneously being the centre of attention, in all his life.

No one’s interested in the movie, the intricate plot, the dynamic between the characters or even the difficult stunts he performed himself, all anyones asking questions about is Bucky and Sharon’s supposed relationship and the manner in which they got together after months of filming.

He can’t blame Sharon for playing the part perfectly, like the extraordinary actress she is, this is her chance to create a name for herself in this ruthless business and she’s pulling out all stops to make it count.

But Bucky hates it.

This is not why he became an actor and it would mortify his younger self to think this is all his career boils down to.

“And cut!” Someone yells and all of a sudden the room bursts to life again. He’s barely focussed on the questions being thrown at him, opting to let Sharon take most of them because it feels less dishonest that way. The fewer words he says, the less lies come out of his mouth and it makes him feel ever so slightly less guilty lying to the entire world.

Sharon squeezes his hand to grab his attention and gives him a look which screams ‘try harder’, but because they’re surrounded by a hoard of people she can’t actually say it aloud.

Maria’s on the phone beside one of the cameramen, and even through all the bustling noise, he can hear the distinct sound of her making arrangements for ‘the happy couple’. Dread settles in his stomach which sinks beneath the floor like an anvil.

To top it all off, he looks beyond where Maria is standing to find you busy discussing something which much be exceedingly important with some other crew members. Normally you’d be watching on with a reassuring smile, and when his gaze would meet yours, everyone else would melt away and it would seem like you were the only two people in the whole world. But he can’t exactly blame you for doing your job.

Bucky suddenly feels extremely claustrophobic, caged in by the bright lights, cameras and people working in the limited space provided by the set. It’s like his body is viscerally holding in his last breath until you turn around and look at him, and he’s suffocating waiting for something he intrinsically knows won’t happen.

He stands up, waving off the make-up artists who are rushing over from their station to ensure Sharon and himself look perfect for the next interview.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He mumbles, not waiting for permission he knows he wouldn’t receive before trudging away to his dressing room.

Bucky relishes the moment alone, away from the mayhem, having the space to take a breath and calm the swarming anxiety in his chest. It’s not as effective as the comfort you provide whenever you are in his presence, but he knows it’ll have to do for now.

At that moment Becks’ name flashes on his phone and guilt pangs in his stomach that he’s forgotten about until now. He’s been ignoring her calls all week - his excuse is that he’s been insanely busy since the premiere, but he knows the real reason is because she’ll be disappointed he hasn’t told you what she could so plainly read on his features when the three of you were in the same room.

He hits ignore once again with the internal promise that once he summons enough courage to disclose his feelings for you, he’ll return her call. Ringing with either fantastic news, or in need of consoling a broken heart.

“Bucky?” He hears your voice call his name and he immediately turns around to the source, heart skipping a beat seeing your eyes land on him for what feels like the first time since under the dim light outside the premiere venue a week ago. He takes a couple seconds to commit your features to memory, knowing burning the image in the back of his mind will help him gather the strength he needs to return to the monotonous stream of interviews.

“Yes?” Bucky enquires to break the silence, something that even now, when he’s positive you’re avoiding him because you’re opposed to his promotional methods, has never been awkward between the two of you.

“They need you back out there.” Before he can even so much as thank you for the instruction, you’ve closed the door and he’s all alone again.

He can barely function only seeing glimpses of you. There’s a certain quality about you that no matter how tired he is of answering questions and interacting with people, he’s never too fatigued to be around you. Time spent with you allows him to recharge, and without that it feels like he’s running on empty.

Bucky takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and picturing how he felt the night after the infamous Alexander Pierce interview when you stayed up with him until the early hours of the morning, laughing at old movies and throwing popcorn in each others mouths, before he carried you to bed and seriously considered climbing in next to you.

Those are the memories with you he cherishes, even more so now that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and is what will keep him going for the rest of the day. Probably even the rest of his life.

And with that happy thought, he’s ready to take on the next interview.

* * *

You feel your heart sink below your stomach for what feels like the thousandth time this week.

Each interviewer is asking the same damn question, ‘how did the two of you get together?’, which of course prompts Sharon to deliver the same damn response each time. You could recite her answer word for word at this point, but it doesn’t make hearing it yet again any less painful.

It’s a recurring nightmare you’re unable to wake from.

You do your best to keep busy, which isn’t all that difficult when there’s a million different interviewers rotating through who you need to provide copies of Bucky’s ‘no go’ list in an attempt to prevent a repeat of what happened on Alexander Pierce’s late night show.

But Bucky and Sharon are the eye of the storm, everything revolves around them, so it’s impossible to avoid their relationship altogether, nor the hollow, sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach when you catch a glance of them lovingly smiling at each other.

With each rotation of interviewers your resilience dwindles further. It’s only been a week, but you’re just about ready to break. The doting glances, the constant stroking of his arm, the intertwined fingers, adoring hand kisses, are each an additional stab to the heart which brings you closer to your demise.

You really would think of them to be such a cute and affectionate couple if one half of the pair wasn’t the beginning and end of your whole world.

You want to go home and cry your eyes out until the headache you get from being dehydrated is worse than the ache in your chest from your breaking heart.

As someone yells ‘cut’, the room coming to life with a frenzy, you do your best to fight the urge to look at the main stage where Bucky is currently sitting. All your instincts tell you to sneak a glance, but you know deep down seeing them together will bring about a heartache you’re sure you’ll never recover from.

So as arduous as it is to avoid staring at the same eyes that bring you a never ending supply of comfort and reassurance, and that seem to soften each and every time they notice you, without fail, you choose not to. Because at this point, the fear of more agony outweighs the morsel of solace you might find.

Why are you subjecting yourself to this?

To him, you’re just an assistant. Someone to do the organisational tasks that he either doesn’t have time for or purely doesn’t want to. A job multiple people who aren’t life shatteringly in love with him are qualified for.

You’re positive there will not be a day that goes by in which you will not be in love with James Buchanan Barnes, but quitting as his assistant would allow you a small fragment of peace that constantly being around him and Sharon will never allow.

That even if he isn’t yours, you wouldn’t have to watch him be someone else’s.

Perhaps that’s the most tranquillity this cruel world can grant you now.

Are you really about to do this?

In your moment of reservation you make the mistake of looking over to Bucky, in hope that seeing the handsome face which never fails to give life to butterflies in your stomach, will remind you why you do this job, but what you see instead does the exact opposite.

Sharon leans over the minimal space between the two chairs and kisses him, lingering for a few agonising seconds before pulling away, all toothy smiles as they intertwine hands.

Your heart crumbles into irreparably small pieces and you have to force yourself to heave a shaky breath.

It is unfortunately not the first time you’ve seen the two share a kiss, but you determine to yourself it will be the last.

You’ve made your mind up. You can’t endure this any more. You’re done.

After the last interview tonight, you’ll hand in your resignation.

* * *

As you knock on the door and twist the handle in response to Bucky’s mumbled ‘come in’, you feel yourself approaching the bottom of the seemingly eternal abyss you’ve been falling into since learning that Bucky is dating Sharon.

When you feel the sensation while sleeping, you get the relief of waking up, but the past week has been a nonstop, agonising plunge.

Though you’re nervous about how he’ll react, and petrified that in a moment of weakness you’ll disclose romantic feelings you want to keep secret in order to justify your departure, you’re certain this is the right decision, and that provides you the drop of courage you need.

“Hi.” Even in just the single syllable you can tell he’s completely worn out, but there’s a hope and longing in his eyes at the recognition it’s you who’s entered his dressing room that even his exhaustion can’t quell.

He hasn’t even put up a defence to what you’re about to do, but even just by looking at him, at those damn steel blue eyes which shine bright enough to illuminate even your darkest days, you question if you can go through with it.

Bucky looks at you expectantly, knowing you must have come in for something. There’s a small part of you, despite what you’re about to do, that makes your stomach clench at the thought that even though you’ve been avoiding him the last week, he still smiles when he sees you.

“I’m handing in my two weeks.” You manage to say, but your voice is weak and lacking any kind of conviction. It sounds more like a question than a statement.

“What?” His smile turns into an expression of shock in the time it takes you to blink. He stands, knocking his chair backwards, but his eyes are wide and only focussed on you. “I don’t accept your resignation.”

“Well then it’s a good thing it’s technically Maria’s management company that employs me. I just came here as a professional courtesy.” You turn to leave, unable to look at the undeniable hurt in his eyes and on his features you’ve caused. That will be your legacy to him, your last action in his life will be wrought with the agony of abandoning him.

“Is that all I am to you? A formality?” His words make you pause. As much as you need to move on from your own heartache of watching him in a relationship with someone else, you can’t leave knowing he believes he means so little to you.

You turn back to look at him and it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest, seeing desperation and hopelessness brimming in his eyes. You’re the cause of that.

“Not even close, Bucky. You mean so much more to me, that’s the whole point.” You put all your effort into making your voice level and believable. You might be leaving him but the reasoning behind it is because you care too much about him, not too little. With time, you hope he can understand that.

“The whole point of what?”

“Why I’m quitting - do you really think I’d be leaving if you meant nothing to me?” There’s a flash of something in Bucky’s eyes that you can’t quite place, perhaps something of a revelation, but so much more profound.

“Then why are you leaving?” You can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You are dangerously close to revealing deeper feelings you promised you’d keep to yourself, that you wouldn’t divulge to Bucky and put him in the awkward position of having to turn you down because he’s already in love with another woman.

The searing pain of vocalising your devotion, the inevitability of being rejected by him overcomes you and you find your heart won’t let the words of affection leave your lips.

You take a deep, steadying breath and find yourself staring at the floor merely because you don’t have the strength to look into his bewitching eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Is what you say halfheartedly, though you do believe it. Surely it’s too late now to be of any consequence. He’s fallen for another woman, you’re just the expendable assistant, nothing can change that now.

“Yes it does! You matter to me, so why you’re choosing to leave my life matters to me.” Your heart aches. You might matter to him, but not in the way your heart needs. Not in the all consuming, life changing, inescapable way that plagues every second of his life as he does yours.

You can feel your heart beating in your throat as you respond to him.

“All I want is for you to be happy, Buck, and you’re happy with her. I’m not going to jeapordise that, but it doesn’t mean I need to torture myself by having a front row seat to your love story.”

“Doll, you are my happiness!” You try to ignore the way your stomach flips and heart clenches as a result of his words. He’s just trying to make you stay… he doesn’t truly mean that. But then he continues and your world comes to a complete standstill. “If you’re referring to Sharon and I, that’s all fake! I’m not dating her, I’ve never been interested in her like that, it’s all for PR.”

Your hands start shaking and knees feel weak as your mind works to process his words. This can’t be happening. It was all fake? But then your mind flashes back to the fondness in Bucky’s eyes as he looked at Sharon at the premiere, as well as the way your heart ruptured when Maria confirmed their relationship and you can’t give your heart permission to believe him.

“No… no, that’s not what Maria said.” You stammer, replaying her words in your mind as you had done continuously since that infamous night to ensure you hadn’t misinterpreted them.

“What did Maria say?” Bucky’s voice has an edge of irritation which is hard to miss.

“She said Sharon was your girlfriend, real girlfriend… that you’d started dating while filming together.” Maria had been sure, unwavering, almost clinically so. She left no room for doubt.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Bucky mutters, almost to himself. “Doll, none of it was real, purely written into the contracts for promoting the movie. I think Maria saw how I feel about you and for her own twisted reasons wanted to push us apart.” You have to remind yourself to breathe because every single cell in your body is so overwhelmingly focussed on Bucky’s words that even your vital functions have stopped.

“How you feel about me?” You repeat his words breathlessly, unable to process their true connotation for if you’re wrong, it would surely end your entire existence.

Bucky’s eyes stare into your soul in a way that they never have before. He looks resolute, but somehow simultaneously vulnerable. Though you’ve seen him at his lowest, the fragility he’s openly displaying makes you suspect that there was always one last wall he kept part of himself concealed behind, shielding himself from one last heartbreak he just couldn’t bare to endure.

You observe in his eyes he’s pulled that wall down, and it’s like you’re seeing him, all of him, for the first time. And you’ve never been more in love.

“I was gonna tell you last week, after the premiere, but then you left and…” He shakes his head as he gathers his thoughts. When he looks up his eyes are filled with intent and don’t leave your gaze as he steps closer. You allow him to grasp your hands in his, his thumbs swiping over the backs of your hands affectionately and it takes every ounce of strength in you not to melt into his warm, musky scented embrace. When Bucky speaks there’s a crack in his voice. “The thought of you leaving takes away all my air, I can’t fucking breathe thinking that in two weeks you’re going to walk out of my life and never look back. I need you. You are absolutely everything to me. You are in every moment of my life, regardless of if you’re actually present for it. It’s you I will always search for in a crowded room. Whose eyes I find solace in and whose smile gives my life purpose. I live to be the reason for that beautiful smile. You are who I want to tell every good piece of news to first. Whose hand I instinctively reach for when I need the reminder I’m not alone in this isolating spotlight. Every moment of my life revolves around you. You are the nucleus of my world that I cannot live without.”

“Bucky…” You feel like you’re about to collapse. Your mind is racing too fast for any coherent thoughts to form, but warmth and adoration fills your entire body like a sugar high.

“Doll, please, you are it for me. There is no one else, even if you do choose to leave. You are my definition of love. You will be the person who I compare everyone else to, and I can already tell you with absolute certainty that none of them will even come close. There will never be anyone else for me, because it always has been and always will be you.”

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud, euphoria flowing in your veins and a warmth blooming in your chest so fiercely it almost feels like an ache. Tears sting behind your eyes, but you compel yourself to not let them blur your vision. You want to remember the pure love and devotion in Bucky’s eyes, how he’s looking at you like you truly are the only one in the world for him. As if, when he looks at you, everything else becomes hazy and you’re the only thing he sees.

All those moments, all the shared tender glances and lingering touches, all the generously sweet words you hope implied more than a simple boss-assistant relationship, it wasn’t just your imagination wishing he reciprocated your feelings.

Bucky had felt it too.

It was all real. So earnestly real.

“Bucky…” You reach up and cup his cheek, wiping away a stray tear which gently trickles from the corner of his eye with your thumb. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes and savouring the care in your contact. His prosthetic hand, which is still holding yours, gives you an encouraging squeeze, and when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is overflowing with adoration. “You are my home. The only reason I was going to leave was because I didn’t want to watch you fall in love with someone else. Loving you comes as easy as breathing for me. There is no one else in the entire world that I will ever love in that way, only you.”

You don’t even have time to breathe, for when those words leave your lips Bucky decides he simply cannot wait a second longer before kissing you. Though, you’re not complaining, it’s an urge you’ve been supressing constantly since you started working for him.

This kiss starts fast and frantic, you’ve both waited entirely far too long to express your love that you’re eager to feel as much of each other as possible. Bucky’s hands roam around your back, pulling you flush with him as yours start by cupping his face, before tangling in the long strands of his hair.

But when the realisation hits you both that you don’t need rush, that in fact you’ve got the rest of your lives to explore and memorise the intricacies of each other, the kiss slows to a sensual make out, taking your time to enjoy each other and what you’ve been longing for since the moment you met.

“Bucky?” You mumble his name against his lips, but he doesn’t allow you to say more then a single word and take a quick breath before his lips have covered yours again. You’re not sure how long you’ve been kissing him, but he’s clearly not done with you yet.

“Mhmm.” He hums into your mouth, hands slipping below the hem of your shirt, gliding over the smooth, bare skin of your back, sending shivers down your spine. He touches you gently, like you’re a precious flower he doesn’t want to crush, but rather preserve and admire for years to come.

“Take me home.” He pulls back, and your lips already miss being connected to his. You’ll never get enough of him, even if you were to kiss him for the remainder of your days.

He looks at you with a fondness and amazement that makes you think he can’t quite believe you’re his, even though your heart has belonged to him for as long as you’ve known him.

You tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear so you can have an unobstructed view of how he’s looking at you, soaking up the confidence which inflates in your chest when he gazes at you as if you hang the moon and stars in the night sky.

“As you wish, my love.” Bucky affirms, the twinkle in his eye makes excitement surge in your stomach - the night is far from over. He kisses you once more, savouring the feeling and to tide you both over until you make it back to his place.

Bucky takes your hand and refuses to let go as he proudly walks with you by his side through the studio, not giving a damn who sees the two of you together.

Part 5 > >

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Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) [Actor!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @sunnyjane4 @valhalla-kristin @learisa @crispysublimecupcake @iamfandomwasted @blackwidownat2814 @hailey-holt @rosepetalsinwinter @wifeofbarnes @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @vicmc624 @oliviagreen99 @gabshouse @raging-panda @priya212 @highlyintelligentblonde @buckyseddie @erynnnn @endless-summer-soldier @one-shot-plus-size @takeabreathdearh @its703pm @nefelibatansoul @theweekndhistorybook @albinotigerpython @goldenharrysworld @buckyslove1917 @supersanelyromantic @gothkitteh @ahrahrahraha @hopelessromantic423 @misshale21 @happeevacationday @farfromjustordinary @blackgirlbydna @mrsgweasley @readreblogfics @ashenc-blog @redbarn1995 @thewackywriter @missvelvetsstuff @broadwaybabe18 @buckys2lut @arny-montana @calirindo @justfic @crazyunsexycool @helpishouldstudy @alluringsirensworld @sarahyk27 @aya-daydreams @hotleaf-juice @kareish @yukio369 @hjzmwoodz @sabbbsstuff @vespercarmichael @fanfic-freak-cevans @marygoddessofmischief @cevansswhore

[leighsartworks216]

Protocore Syndrome

Zayne x gn!Reader (Can be read as platonic or romantic)

Would Protocore Syndrome ever be like this in game? Unlikely. Does it sound cool? Yeah, that's why I wrote it duh

I wish Zayne got more love and attention in the fandom (and in the game too ngl) :(

Warnings: death, grief/mourning, medical inaccuracies, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, canon divergent

Word Count: 572

Main Masterlist

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AO3

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The stars bring no peace tonight. You can’t remember the last time they ever did, but tonight, especially, they only serve to remind you of what’s been lost.

You still remember her laugh, just minutes before she was put under anesthesia. She said she was nervous, so you told her a joke to help calm her down. She fell asleep with light giggles that petered out into nothing.

That memory would forever be corrupted by a flatline, shouts for a crash cart, and the heavy silence of everyone in that room carrying her blood on their hands.

You sigh, breath coming out as a white fog in the darkness. For as much love as you held for this job, it never got easier.

The roof doors open behind you with a creak. Shoes click softly against the cement until they stop beside you. Fabric rustles, and a heavy coat is draped over your shoulders. Zayne sits down beside you.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. Dr. Greyson and your own assistant were close, having done their residencies together, just like you and Zayne. Anything that happened with you was eventually shared with Zayne, and vice versa.

Your patient, female, 11, went in for an anterior temporal lobectomy, and died on the table. It was supposed to be a relatively simple procedure, one you’d performed hundreds of times before.

After a long silence, you sigh and lean against him. His lab coat is gone, replaced with the hefty black coat around your shoulders. He was about to head home, even though it was way past the end of his shift. Way past the end of yours, too. But then you messaged him, asking if he had time to meet at your usual spot.

“Her parents are mad,” you say, voice shot from crying in your office hours earlier. “I don’t blame them. Who wouldn’t be upset?”

He reaches over and takes your hand. It’s cold. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “You did everything you could.”

You sigh again. That’s all anyone could say when a patient died. Don’t carry that guilt with you, you did everything you could. What else could be said? “I know.”

You reach under his coat and into your pocket, and pull out a small vial. The paper label stuck to it had the patient’s basic info and some quick identifiers for cataloging. You hold it out for him to take. He gives you a confused look, but does so nonetheless. Something small clinks around inside. He holds it up to the moonlight.

A black crystal.

“I begged the parents to let me try figuring out what… They were clustered around her amygdala. I’ve never seen anything like it before, Zayne.”

He lowers the vial back to his lap. It rotates slowly, crystal tapping lightly against the glass as it’s turned over and over and over again. “And there were no signs of Protocore Syndrome?”

You shake your head. “I ordered an MRI, just to be sure, but there was nothing abnormal with her heart. I can send you the data. You know more about it than I do. Maybe there’s something I missed.”

He tucks it away in his pocket. You rest your head on his shoulder. He rests his cheek against your hair.

“You should go home,” he whispers.

“I will. Just…” You look back up at the stars. “Just a minute longer.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope

[jackobbit]

Alrighty, here we go, one last time!

We’ve got some feesh, and this pumpkin fella I’ve been rotating in my brain all week. (I do apologize for the low quality on that last one especially, I had to rush at the end bc I had some other stuff to do)

With this, the week of au’s Magma event is over! It was super fun to to draw everyday with other folks! Seeing everyone else’s art was a real treat.

It also provided a nice challenge! It really did help me learn a lot, but, I think I’m ready to use my usual programs again lmao

[ID: A Magma drawing of a Mer Sun and Mer Moon underwater, they are both placed against a blue-green background with both Sun and Moon being drawn slightly outside of the colored box. Mer Sun is yellow and orange with lots of dark brown spots, he waves his arms up and down quickly as he looks up and to the right at Moon who floats overhead. He is smiling brightly. Moon looks down at Sun with a smile, one hand is stretched out towards Sun while his other is kept in a fist near his chest. Moon is colored a mix of greys and blues with brighter electric blue spots. /End ID]

[ID: A Magma drawing of a Halloween version of Sun sitting on a hay bale within a corn field. He has a pumpkin for a head, and wooden sun-like rays. He wears a witch’s hat, a burlap shirt, black pants, gloves, a belt and boots. He smiles, looking off into the distance. Next to him is a small pumpkin on the ground, carved to resemble a grinning crescent moon. The background consists of an orange sky, clouds, a full moon and two bats flying in the sky. /End ID]

[plushieclan]

Gathering: Moon One

TW: Death mention

< previous | next > | all >>

“Now, remember… you’re Shimmerpaw’s littermate,” Darkstar reminded Nightpaw. She nodded.

“I remember the story Dad. I’ll be ok.”

Nightpaw looked behind her. Tonight’s gathering would be the first since the attack… and the first she ever attended. The entire clan was with them— Darkstar said it was to look stronger.

She hung close to her friends as they made it to Four Corners. It was an old Twoleg den. Nightpaw had a lot of experience with those.

At the center, a strange light emanated from a smooth, round cylinder. She bristled; wait, it was fire!

Sandpaw put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s not like real fire. It stays in that cylinder.”

She sighed. “How did you know that was what I was thinking?”

“Because that was my reaction too.” he laughed with a mrrp.

They laughed together for a bit, until Darkstar hushed them. She took the opportunity to have a look around.

The three other clan leaders were sat at the highest part of the den. The first was a very old black cat— he was lighter than Darkstar, but much bigger than him. She assumed he was Badgerstar of Treeclan. Next was one she knew a little more— a tom with a maroon coat and white upper half. That was Finchstar. He was the youngest of the leaders. When she looked at the last leader, she felt fear.

His coat was a light ginger. It was spotted— but what drew her gaze was his crimson eyes. They were sharp. Piercing red. That must have been what he got his name from, she thought. Redstar.

He cleared his throat, starting first.

“We have had a good moon. Swampclan has welcomed two new warriors, Junco-eyes and Ploverbelly.”

He paused to allow the gathering to yowl their names. The Crystalclan cats merely glared at him. That didn’t seem to phase him— he continued as usual.

“And one new apprentice. Welcome, Hawthornpaw! And thank you to the Wanderers for shifting her our way!” He motioned to another cat on the balcony, seemingly a member of the Wanderers.

“Why is a member of a rogue group up there with the leaders?” she asked Starleaf.

“The Wanderers aren’t just a rogue group.” she said sternly. “It’s their job to rotate cats around our area. Taking exiled cats away from their clans and placed elsewhere, as well as placing interested kittypets and loners into the clans as well as anywhere else they desire. In that way, they’re like a fifth clan to us. You should know this— I was born into the Wanderers. And so was Shimmerpaw.”

Nightpaw chuckled nervously. “Look, I pay attention. I just didn’t realize the Wanderers were so… big and important, I guess.”

Nightpaw’s gaze was shifted to a pretty little cat— Hawthornpaw. It was clear— she was a former kittypet. Her pelt was a rare one in the wild. With luxurious cream fur and brown points, she couldn’t have been born a warrior.

Meanwhile, the two warriors looked somewhat familiar to her. Their grey pelts just seemed to remind her of something.

Starleaf murmured to her.

“Swanjaw’s kits.”

Nightpaw gasped. She remembered them! They were in the Bayclan nursery with her— just a few moons older!

“Wasn’t there three of them?” she asked.

Starleaf nodded. “Yes, but… Woodpeckerkit was a black kitten. They… well, you know.”

She looked away. She didn’t want to think about that.

Starleaf nudged her, pointing to the leaders again. Finchstar had rotated to speak.

“Grangeclan has not had much occur this past moon. However, we have one new apprentice, Firepaw.” he spoke curtly and quickly, before stepping back.

The aforementioned Firepaw was a very red cat. Next to her, her not-as-red mother and very blue father looked proud as they could be.

Up next was Badgerstar, who ambled to the front.

“Treeclan has recently lost a young apprentice. Perchpaw will be remembered for her enthusiasm and determination. A moment of silence for her, please.”

Everyone was quiet, besides the wailing of another Treeclan apprentice.

After that moment, Badgerstar left the front. It was Darkstar’s turn.

He went up to the front. “We have two new apprentices.” he said, with a smile. “Our kits are growing up. Nothing could be better!”

Nightpaw wasn’t stupid. She could easily tell that he was lying through his teeth. But the others seemed to have bought it.

“With one last thanks to Starclan, the Gathering is adjourned.” Everyone began to break for socializing.

“Leafy!” A cat cried, lunging at Starleaf. She was a cat with a pinkish hue, and strange pendant around her neck.

“Hello Pearlheart. How are you?” Starleaf mrrped happily.

Another cat was behind Pearlheart. This cat was a lot scruffier— she was a brown tabby with a red bandana. “You should be less forceful, Pearly.”

She pouted. “But I was so worried after I heard about the attack!”

The other cat noticed Nightpaw. “Who’s this, Leafy?”

“Oh, I’m Nightpaw! I’m Shimmerpaw’s sister.” she said quickly.

Starleaf motioned something to the two mollies, whose eyes went wide.

The brown tabby nodded. “We understand, Leafy.” She turned to Nightpaw. “It’s nice to meet you, Nightpaw. I’m Dovelight, deputy of Grangeclan. I’m an old friend of your mama. Take care of ol’ Foxtail for us, will you?”

She nods. They must know Foxtail Barley, Shimmerpaw’s mother. “I will.”

Pearlheart spoke as well. “And I’m Pearlheart, Grangeclan cleric! Your mom is very dear to me. I don’t know what I’d do without Lea-without Foxy!”

“Oh um— I’ll tell her that too!” She shot Starleaf a scared look.

Starleaf chuckled. “It’s alright. They can be trusted. They’re my best friends.”

With that, a wail erupted from the Treeclan gathering. A young molly apprentice, the same as before, was mourning.

“Go comfort her.” Starleaf signaled to Nightpaw.

“Wait, isn’t she from another clan?”

“War is rare. Friends in other clans are much more important… especially in this time.”

She noticed how Starleaf’s gaze lingered on Redstar.

Nightpaw nodded. “Alright, I’ll go help her.”

She walked over, mulling over what to say.

The apprentice was a white and brown molly, with a beautiful butterfly ornament attached to her ear.

“Hey. I’m Nightpaw. How are you feeling?” She whispered, sitting down next to her.

“Not good. Obviously.” she sniffled. “I’m Lynxpaw.”

“She was your sister, wasn’t she? I’ve lost a littermate too. I understand how it feels.” Nightpaw said gently.

“I knew the curse would take one of us.” Lynxpaw said, looking at the ground. “But why Perchpaw?!”

“Oh my stars, Lynxpaw, you need to shut up about the curse!” A dark tom apprentice snapped at her.

“Well, how do you explain our family’s luck then! You don’t believe it’s true, but now Perchpaw is gone!” she yowled back.

“Woah, woah, woah, enough!” Nightpaw heard the sound of Shimmerpaw behind her. “What’s this about a curse?”

Shimmerpaw laid herself to the other side of Lynxpaw, forming a tight huddle around her.

“My family is cursed. Every generation, when four kits are born… one will die horribly as an apprentice. We don’t know why. My father lost his sister as an apprentice, my grandmother before him… and so on.” Lynxpaw explained.

“Starclan has said that there isn’t a curse!” The dark tom lunged, only to be caught by the red apprentice from earlier.

“That’s enough.” Firepaw said, holding him back. “This is a Gathering. Fighting isn’t allowed.”

Nightpaw looked over to see if Starleaf could help, but she was deep in conversation with the Grangeclan deputy and cleric. Dang it!

“Yarrowpaw, I wish you would just believe the facts.” Lynxpaw muttered.

Nightpaw looked between this spat of littermates with extreme worry. “Um, hi. Firepaw? I’m Nightpaw. Do you think you could deal with Yarrowpaw for us?” She addressed the red Grangeclan apprentice.

“I’ll take care of it!” she winked. “Also, nice to meet you.”

With that, Firepaw dragged the unfortunate Yarrowpaw away from the girls.

Lynxpaw sighed. “My brother… he doesn’t believe in the curse. But it almost seems like he doesn’t care at all.”

“I’m sure he does—” Nightpaw started.

“He’s so mean to you. You don’t deserve it.” Shimmerpaw interjected.

Nightpaw shot her a confused look.

Shimmerpaw merely signed “validate her not justify him”

“Yeah, he’s a jerk!” Nightpaw said with gusto. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Firepaw is giving him a piece of her mind!”

Lynxpaw sniffled. “Thank you. But… he isn’t the worst of it. I feel like the clanmates who believe in the curse are worse…” she trailed off, then continued. “Sometimes, I feel so isolated with my clanmates. I feel like they hate me because of my lineage. It’s like they didn’t even mourn Perchpaw— they didn’t even care she was killed! They just see her death and my whole family as an extension of the curse. To them… our lives are nothing more than an inconvenience!”

Nightpaw leaned in. “I-I’m sorry.”

“My aunt is the deputy, you know. She had to fight so hard for that spot… she couldn’t become it until Starclan itself declared her worthy. But Badgerstar hates her! He’s been pushing her to step down for years!”

Nightpaw was confused. “Can’t he just replace her?”

Shimmerpaw shook her head. “No, any deputy appointed by Starclan sign cannot be removed for anything other than a crime against the warrior code. She’d have to step down herself.”

Lynxpaw cried. “It’s so awful! My aunt is a really good deputy, but why doesn’t anyone see it? My sister was full of enthusiasm, she had dreams— and yet, nobody mourns her but me!” She quieted down, her head hung low. “I-I don’t want to go back to my clanmates yet.”

Nightpaw merely stayed with her. “We’ll stay with you until the Gathering is over.” Shimmerpaw nodded in agreement.

“Thank you.” she murmured.

Firepaw bounded over. “Yarrowpaw is dealt with. I informed his mentor.”

Nightpaw could see a gray tabby molly scolding Yarrowpaw. He wouldn’t be a problem for a while, she suspected.

“Thank you.” Lynxpaw said.

“It’s nothing. By the way, I’m Firepaw!”

They all could tell. She was the youngest apprentice there with such fiery red fur. It was fluffy and stood out for its extravagance, especially here in the clans.

“Nice to meet you, Firepaw.” Shimmerpaw grinned. “Come sit with Lynxpaw here. The more friends, the better.”

“I don’t know how to thank you more.” Lynxpaw had eyes wider than the moon.

“No need. We’ll stay with you until the end.” Nightpaw nuzzled into Lynxpaw.

They kept their promise, sitting by her side until Starleaf beckoned them over to leave. Nightpaw was left with a good impression of the clans— and more importantly, two friends she could rely on in the future.

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a2d1

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 4,075

Notes: As promised from the poll! I actually had an old version of Ch.2 laying around :D I don't know that i saved anything from Ch.3 But I'll look. We'll see. Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Main Part

Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible. After concerts like this, Chan and his soulmates found it easier to just load up in whatever order they happened to exit the venue in.

Today that meant he was in the second van, as usual, preceded by Minho, Jisung, and Felix.

It was a relatively quiet combination of their soul cluster, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it except the sharp, needle-like pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.

As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to let things lie.

Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.

“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.

Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.

Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.

It’s there that Chan is stuck struggling on his own as Felix directs his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.

“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”

Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.

“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”

Felix rolls his eyes at their glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”

He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.

More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve. So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.

There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.

The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.

He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware. As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.

If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.

Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.

Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.

“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix directs.

“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”

A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.

Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.

Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself. These days, he found great comfort in it.

He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.

“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.

“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.

“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.

“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”

Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured theirs.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.

“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”

“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.

“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”

Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.

Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several very long moments to spot the tiny changes.

When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.

He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.

“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”

Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.

Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”

The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away. By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, images complete, lines drawn. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.

They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.

Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.

After so many years, they’d begun to wonder themselves if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.

It had been hard. It was hard.

And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.

It kind of made him want to cry.

He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.

That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.

“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.

“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.

“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.

“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”

Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”

“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!” He reassures, “We don’t have anymore shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”

“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”+

“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”

“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.

“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”

“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”

Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.

“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”

He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.

Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.

You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.

It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way. It was another when you had evidence in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin that they were real, physical people.

Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.

You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.

You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.

Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.

The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.

When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.

“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment.

“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”

“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.

“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit to him. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.

You think about it as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.

Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. you really were just roommates.

You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.

At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.

You knew that he didn’t really get on with his folks, just like you, and that every word you told him in confidence would be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.

“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep. The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.

Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. He treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.

You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.

“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.

“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me. I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts before, even to yourself.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”

Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.

“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.

Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.

“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”

“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”

Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.

You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.

“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.

The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.

“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”

The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.

After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.

“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”

Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.

Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.

“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.

“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.

“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.

“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.

“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.

It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.

“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”

Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”

You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.

You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.

It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.

“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.

“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”

You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.

[yandere-collections]

Since the first post about it, I am now eternally rotating Yandere Town in my mind. Lately it’s imagining how the townspeople would react if the reader was a complete recluse. There’d be clandestine watchtowers in place with a view of the readers home, and any time they left people got some equivalent of an amber alert that their darling is out and about, so be on your best behavior! Everyone working double time to make every second count should they encounter the reader, tripping over themselves to try and make enough of an impression that they just might come out more often.

The more desperate folks get dressed in blue collar outfits and pass themselves off as inspectors who “just need to take a quick look around, make sure everything’s in order.” The reader is equal parts relieved that the town takes citizen safety so seriously and confused as to why five people have showed up in the last three days, not to mention that they seem more interested in chatting than doing any work. The local government cracks down on that pretty quickly, but a few people still slip through the cracks.

Once they all get some idea of what the reader enjoys, the events going on in town get weirdly specific. Checked out a lot of horror books at the library? Big horror movie night in the gym! Spotted shopping around the farmers market? Time for the local festival with plenty of fresh pies and homemade treats! Frequently stop by a certain restaurant? What do you know, they actually throw this big feast in town every year! Crazy how it just happens to fall on the readers birthday, huh? They wouldn’t want to miss it, would they?

And since I’m a big fan of darlings who can read between the lines, the reader catching on that people are acting weird and leaving the house even less than they did when they first arrived, and turning away any unexpected visitors, even if they really are there to check on the house. Unrest sweeping through the streets because nobody’s seen them for the past month, and the leaders have to resort to drastic measures to keep the peace. The fireman chalk up the destruction of the readers entire house to be a horrible case of flawed wiring, they really should’ve let someone check that out. Nowhere to stay? Don’t be silly! Anyone in town would be happy to take them in until they have somewhere new to stay. It’s a close knit town, so expect plenty of guests! Surely the reader won’t mind, they can’t dictate such things in someone else’s home, right? :)

(Apologies for the long-ish ask, it’s just been rotting my brain and I needed to get it all out of my system. Love the stories, love you, have a wonderful day.)

YES YES YES!!! You have reached into my mind and took my exact thoughts to the point where I don't actually have much to add to this.

I definitely think being a recluse would lead to more yanderes invading your privacy, ironically enough. If they can't come in for inspections, your "neighbors" offer to renovate and maintain your home. New paint, gardening, one of them even offered to start digging a hole in your backyard to put in a pool (no ulterior motives here! they totally aren't hoping to catch you in a bathing suit on the dozens of cameras surrounding your house). While you may be missing some things and you're pretty sure you have less locks on your windows now, you can't deny how much nicer the house looks. Hopefully you don't get too attached because, like you said, something bad may happen if you spend too much time inside. They won't resort to burning it down unless they're really desperate. Most of the time, a burst sewer line or power outage is enough. Maybe the utility company will shut off your water, forcing you to stay at a friend's for a while.

Never apologize for long asks! It's a genuine delight to see how excited people get about my writing <3

[captainschaos]

ran late on this, but my last and biggest writing for @mcyt-aro-week! day 6: coming out / found family & day 7: free day!

just some really fun fluffy writing for the big ol polycule of a household I like to rotate in my head, a bunch of aromantics, queerplatonics, and family <3 really a very self indulgent writing but truly that's gotta be the point of it all yayyy ^_^ (includes joel, lizzie, cleo, bdubs, etho, and tango btw)

[ao3 link] words: 3002

(I'm also including a longer pronoun reference for this one since I use a lot of funky ones. like I said this piece is self indulgent LOL) Lizzie: she/her Bdubs: she/he Tango: he/it Cleo: she/they/rot Etho: he/she Joel: she/he

-/-/-

Lizzie felt quite lucky to have such a splendid garden behind the house. Full of life and fresh fragrances, light and color, it was truly an environment with instantaneous spirit-lifting effects. And even better- she’d built that!

Well, not exactly. She can’t take all the credit. 

“What’s all this!” Bdubs exclaimed. 

“Hm?” Lizzie peeked around the corner from the garden bed she’d been working in, and spotted Bdubs at the bed over. She was biting his lip, frowning down at the leaves he was inspecting. 

Lizzie stood and made her way over to look over Bdubs’ mossy shoulder. 

“Just a little dehydrated, isn’t it?” she said. 

Bdubs’ frown remained persistent. “I’m not sure.” She looked up at Lizzie with those enormous eyes of his, head tilted just a little bit, questioning. It was very cute. “Isn’t the color a bit off for that?” 

Lizzie had to work very hard to steer away from those beautiful brown eyes to look back at the sickly plant. “Hm… you might be right. I still think it could just be thirsty though, and that’s definitely easier to fix! So maybeee we just give it extra water for a few days, and hope it goes away?” 

Bdubs immediately burst into his hearty laugh, and Lizzie found herself giggling along with her. 

“Oh, yes~” he said in that funny way she did. “If we pretend it’s not bad soil or something then surely it will be so!” 

Lizzie laughed, and brushed her knuckles over Bdubs’ cheek before stepping back to the plants she was working at. “Exactly!” 

Bdubs’ gaze seemed to linger on Lizzie for a moment, smiling dopily, but she quickly hopped up and headed back toward the house. “Grabbing a watering can it is~!” Lizzie blushed just a bit, but quickly got back to work in the garden bed. 

Lizzie liked this way they went about their… crushes, no use beating around the bush. Not having to hide it, but they had both agreed they didn’t feel the need to make it a standard kind of romantic relationship. It was for fun, more than anything else. 

There was something very freeing about being the only two alloromantic people in a house of aromanticism, surrounded by webs of queerplatonic and otherwise non-standard relationships, when considering a thing like theirs. Both of them had their marriages, Lizzie in a happily constructed romantic relationship with Joel, and Bdubs the happy queerplatonic partner of Cleo, but they were also both very aware of their feelings for each other. Those feelings didn’t go much deeper than fluffy romance for the two of them, but the underlying friendship and their security in the net of other dedicated relationships around them meant they could feel just fine about that. 

Funny thing about aromantic ideas, they’re actually a lot more freeing for everyone. 

Bdubs pushed open the back door to the house, stepping into the mudroom behind the kitchen, singing, “I’m home~!!” 

“You were in here 15 minutes ago, moss man!” Tango snickered from where he stood by the sink. 

“And that’s a long time for people to miss my beautiful face!” 

Tango set a sparkling clean bowl on the towel that had been laid on the counter beside the sink. It seemed the phoenix had ended up with the dish duties for the day. “Of course!” He murmured the next part under its breath, with a teasing twinkle in its eye, “would have liked another five minutes of peace and quiet though…”

“HEY!” 

Tango burst into laughter, setting down the sponge as he flipped to face Bdubs, leaning back against the counter as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, it’s too easy!” 

Bdubs put her hands on her hips, expression split between an offended scowl and a suppressed grin. “What’s easy?! Being- being rude!?” 

With a last huff of laughter, Tango took two fresh towels from a drawer, and tossed one to drape over Bdubs’ face in a gentle attack. “Making you mad, mossy. Come help me dry, will ya?” 

“Hmph!” Bdubs’ voice remained angry, but his big eyes were smiling when she pulled the towel off his face. “Only because I’m so nice. Unlike some people.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Grab that pan.” 

The two of them fall into an easy rhythm in moments, only the soft clatter of stacking dishes interrupting the comfortable silence. It’s like that with them, the teasing and ribbing flowing as easily as simple, undemanding company. Partners of the same partners, that’s kind of how it settled. There was something rather reassuring about the metamour relationship for them, where they knew what the other liked because they knew what they liked themself, a kind of mirror of affection. Maybe in a world where they hadn’t found themselves colliding from shared orbits, they would have run into each other on their own and filled the gaps. But probably not. It was too comfortable like this, why would they change anything? Held in proximity by the people around them, and happy to do so. 

The drying was done in just a few minutes, and Tango giggling at its own last joke at Bdubs as she stepped back out into the garden, watering can in hand. The phoenix put his hands on its hips, surveying the now clean kitchen. Seemed everything was done here, so now to decide what to do next…

The phoenix jumped and let out a very manly squeak as a loud BANG sounded from upstairs. 

“I’m fine!” Cleo’s voice followed. 

“You sure?’ Tango shouted up, already hopping up the stairs two at a time. 

“Yep, I’m sure! Just don’t come u-” 

Whoops. Too late. Tango had already pushed open the door to Cleo’s workshop. In its defense, the zombie ought to have known he’d come running at any scary sound. 

There were bronze feathers scattered across the floor, and a life-sized figure in smooth, blank clay laying awkwardly on its side. There was some kind of contraption wrapped around its torso to cling to its back, mangled wiring in two flared shapes. Wings. A few of the bronzed feathers hung from these outstretched tendrils of copper, still swinging from the momentum of the crash, and a few splinters of clay were still spinning where they’d shattered from the elbow that had taken the brunt of the impact when the statue fell. 

“Turns out, wings are a real pain to balance!” Cleo said, shooting Tango a flicker of a smile before kneeling to gather the feathers that had come to a stop at rots feet. Tango’s own wings readjust as it kneels to join her. 

“Wait, was this-?” 

“Yeah, it was for you, silly,” Cleo cut him off with a chuckle. “Or of you. Something like that.” 

“Whah! Wh-” Tango made a series of strangled sounds as his hair started to flare up, golden flames flicking to frame his flustered expression. 

Cleo laughed even more at that, and began to teasingly shake one feather at it like a disapproving finger. “I do nice things, Tango! Don’t be so surprised.” But their smile betrayed that there was no real hurt. 

It wasn’t everyday that the two of them did things like this for each other, but it also wasn’t rare either. Tango and Cleo exchanged the occasional gift, went on the occasional date, all in a platonic sense but certainly with gestures generally associated with romance. Their relationship was more based in much smaller gestures, like huddling up together when a storm had them on edge, or holding hands on the walk to stressful adulting business. They were founded on that kind of comfort, and it occasionally, naturally for them, bloomed into these kinds of things. They’d been jokingly called girlfriends enough times for them to be able to laugh about that kind of thing, so sure! They were “just” friends, but also did dating things. Why not? But it still managed to make Tango’s wings puff up with happy embarrassment about gestures like this. 

Cleo particularly liked getting those kinds of reactions from Tango. As she watched the phoenix stumble for a response to rots jabbing, they laid a hand on his shoulder briefly. “I’ll forgive you for the rudeness because you helped clean up though.” They rubbed her thumb over his shoulder quickly before letting up and walking to the desk in one corner of the workshop, where rot very gracefully dumped all the collected feathers. Tango followed and did the same, finally seeming to recompose itself to jab back. 

“You’d better! I gotta say, bangin’ around up here with a surprise, not even with the door locked? Rookie mistake on your part.” 

“It was meant to be locked!” Cleo exclaimed with a playful pout. “I told Etho to lock it when she left a minute ago.” 

Cleo then registered the footsteps that had been passing by a few seconds ago, but were now halted outside the room. A very quiet voice piped up. “I thought I’d locked it.” 

Tango exploded with laughter as Cleo banged open the door, laughing too hard to even pretend to frown at Etho. His own eyes were smiling though behind her mask. 

“Foiled! You have to help me fix it then, since Tango already took cleanup.” 

Etho leaned over to peek into the room, eyeing the contraption on the back of the statue Tango was currently standing back up. 

“Sounds fun, actually. You were having trouble with the balancing, yeah?”

“Yeah, extra limbs are always hard. And attaching the feathers is more of a puzzle than an art, really.” Cleo stepped to the side to let Etho into the room, and began to actually assess the damage to the statue. “I’ll need to patch up that elbow too… I’ll need fresh clay.” 

“I can grab you some,” Tango offered. 

“You’re my hero, that’d be lovely Tango.” The phoenix nodded, and hopped to the door, pausing in the frame before ducking out of sight and down the stairs. 

“Coming right up!” 

So Cleo was left to look at Etho while he looked at the statue. 

“Well?” 

“I would have thought that’d do the trick, honestly,” Etho began. “It looks even enough, particularly over the leg positioning.” 

Cleo chuckled and stepped to stand beside her, crossing rots arms as rot assessed the structure. “Well, that’s what I’d thought too, but,” they gestured to the bits of clay shattering on the floor, “boom.” 

“Yeah… not ideal, huh?” 

“Nope!” 

“Hm… have you tried anchoring it with some kind of extra plating?” 

The two of them were quickly caught up in flowing discussion, as natural as water rolling downhill. Didn’t even have to think about it, they clicked so well, and ideas seemed near-telepathically tossed between them. They were built on understanding, like that. It’s why a partnership worked so well, why they were home to each other. Who cared if Etho was a good kisser or any of that, it was never a thought that crossed Cleo’s mind, or vice versa for the fae to think about the zombie like that. They didn’t have to think much about their relationship at all past the few establishing conversations they’d had about it, it just fell into place. They understood each other, in ways no one else did. If that’s not what “queerplatonic” was for, then what was? 

After several minutes of this, Tango returned from digging through closets and storage chests with a package of fresh, soft clay, and Etho took a step back as Cleo reached out for it. 

“Thanks, Tango!” 

“No problem!” The phoenix glanced between the two of them. “You guys get it figured out?” 

“I think so,” Cleo mumbled, already only half-focused on conversing, hands now occupied with smoothing over the clay patch on the statue’s elbow. It made Etho chuckle, noticing the way they stuck rots tongue out between her teeth just the tiniest bit in focus. 

“I think rot’s got a handle on it now,” Etho said. “I’ll leave you to it Cleo.” The zombie’s focus broke for just a moment to shoot him a soft smile in silent thanks, before turning back to work. Tango seemed to be settling in to chat idly while she worked, but Etho turned on heel and headed downstairs. 

There was a breeze coming in through the open windows near the front of the house, and it drew Etho toward them. She found herself wandering into the living room, where he picked a seat near one of the larger windows, and-

“RAH!” 

“Joel!” Etho exclaimed with a laugh as he suddenly found one of the house’s two brown and green folk on top of him. Not soft enough to be Bdubs’ mossy form though, and the shout was definitely Joel’s. If it wasn’t for the sound and feel of her, though, Etho wouldn’t be able to identify him through the pile of person on top of him. 

“What Etho, you stuck? Fallen into my trap? Seems like I win, Etho, if you give up that easy!” Joel was managing to poke one finger into Etho’s ribs with each sentence, so Etho started working on detangling her arms to poke back. 

“I didn’t tap yet!” After a second the fae managed to grab what seemed to be Joel’s shoulder and tug him to the side, so the smaller figure was tucked somewhat into the spot in between the side of the armchair and Etho’s body. Somewhat. She was definitely still halfway on top of Etho, with one of Etho’s arms pinned behind him, but at least he could see Joel’s overly pleased grin now. “There.”

Joel pushed at Etho, partially readjusting and partially for the continued fight of it. “You’re pinching my leg, Etho.” 

“Well whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” Joel said with a smirk. Etho flicked her ear. 

“Okay, sure! Says the guy that jumped on me.” 

But as much as they were poking at each other, verbally and physically, neither of them were really trying to get away from the other. They just needed an excuse, of course. For the closeness, for them to be able to sit like this- and the wonderful thing was, they always found it with each other. The both of them had old problems with putting up walls, with their reputations seeming to push out any room for moments of weakness, but all it takes is one excuse to knock those down. Double Life’s soulmate bond, of course, but past that, little moments like this. For whatever reason, it was able to override any protest their proud minds might make. This was a sparring match, clearly, so they could relax and be fulfilled by the contact and presence of the other. And there was fun in the game, and a kind of admission of love under Joel caring enough to “attack.” At this point, they’d broken the walls down enough they were far more comfortable with the casual and sweet, but there was still such a power to these kinds of interactions. The ability to completely ignore any kinds of social rules, and just lay on top of each other in a chair that really didn’t fit them. 

“What are you two doing?” Lizzie piped in with a chuckle as she appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. 

“I’m winning,” Joel said, beaming as she reached back to poke Etho’s ribs another time to demonstrate. “See?” 

Lizzie shook her head as the grinned at the sight of them. “You’re going to break that chair.” 

“Joel might,” Etho said, which Joel of course repaid with an elbow to the gut. “Ow!” 

“He might fall out of it, if nothing else.” Lizzie glanced to give Etho a friendly wink. “You can give him a good shove, I won’t tell.” 

“Hey!” Joel shouted as Etho started to slowly push her in a way that would roll him over the chair’s arm and onto the floor if kept up. “You’re my wife, you’re supposed to be on my side!” 

“I mean, I think being your wife is the perfect reason to want to see you pushed onto the floor,” Lizzie said with a last giggle as she turned away from the doorway. “Love you!” 

Joel suddenly found himself on the floor. “Love you too.” He pushed himself up to sit criss-cross, and crossed her arms to match as she glared up at Etho. “Can’t believe you’d team up with my wife against me.” 

Etho giggled as he peered down over the armrest at Joel, propping his cheek up with one arm against it. “Let’s be honest, I could get anyone in this house to team up to get you.” 

Joel huffed, but not quite in an annoyed enough fashion to cover her own giggling. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

And she was. Across the web of relationships stretching through this house, there were a million little reasons for anyone else to join in on the fun, to feel comfortable enough to get in on the teasing without worrying about anyone going to far, to have affection worth demonstrating in such a way. Because Joel may have been married to Lizzie, but Lizzie was kissing Bdubs, and Bdubs was linked up to Tango through partnerships with Cleo and Etho, and Joel was tangled back up into it through each unique, inescapable connection. None of them were the same, but they were all built on this household. This house, safe and vibrant and alive as it was, shared by all of them, connected all of them. It was a messy thing, all the complexities and relationships that didn’t fit in boxes or under labels, but it was their family of a strange sort. The people who were havens of safety, the place they’d built to just exist together, comfortable and happy. Far from conventional, always a blur of interwoven interactions, but at the end of the day, dinner was usually at six, and everyone would have a bed to sleep in at the end of the night. 

What more could you expect from a home? 

[smol-nevi]

You know...I took the entire last raid tier off from FFXIV. I was so burnt out. I couldn't even look at it. I got to such a peak with what I was doing on an individual level that I've got an orange aDPS parse in P5S (that's the one that's just your damage and your own buffs, mostly good for tracking rotation improvements). For the more common rDPS metric I had straight purples. That was without any parse runs and a not-hardcore group. I literally could not get a better parse under those circumstances and I kept beating my head on trying anyway until I wasn't even tolerable to be around.

I'm actually excited about Dawntrail? I'm cleaning out my inventory a bit (major feat, I've been playing since ARR and I have five retainers). I did something like three runs of Delubrum Reginae last night with my partner because they want to finish a relic and I just love Bozja that much.

I'm so tempted to spend some time in Eureka farming bunny boxes alone while everyone else is leveling and doing Dawntrail...

It feels nice to be able to be back. I'm not sure if I want to raid yet or not, but I'll play it by ear (aka if someone I know needs a dancer/ranged phys, I'm in, lol). Whatever the case though at least I know I proved whatever I thought I needed to with my numbers, and I'm a lot better at spotting burnout in myself and others now.

See, the difference between burnout and no burnout is that I couldn't even remember what I used to do for fun outside raiding, and it didn't sound fun if I did remember. Then I quit, slept for a while, eventually got my shit back together, and suddenly horked up an entire novel—of fanfic, but that counts—within 4 months, and then another in another 4 months. (Tellingly, both of them plus the third one I'm working on are about a lot of things, but they're all heavily about the devastating mental effects of burnout.) Now I'm like, do I even want to raid, if I could be doing all this other cool stuff? And yeah, kind of. My FC and our friends had a huge photoshoot to say goodbye to Endwalker and it reminded me of what's good about raiding: shooting the shit, laughing when things explode, being social around people on a schedule. I got way too focused on the math and not the people.

Slightly in my defense, it is hard to keep your head up when you run the same content for that many months. We cleared P4S week 31 and P8S week 34, if I'm remembering right. But also, absolutely not in my defense, until I intentionally took a short break during the P8S slog I had missed one single raid day since the second tier of Eden, and that was only because I'd had top surgery the literal day before and couldn't hold the controller yet for long enough without it seriously hurting. By the next raid night I was already back in it. I've never had perfect attendance in anything so that was a very hard record to let go of. What I needed was to let it the fuck go about six months before I actually did.

Anyway I'm literally just rambling because that's what I do, but I'm excited to be back. I think I'll level pictomancer because yeah, everyone is, but that's fun too. Bandwagons can be good or people wouldn't get on them. Dancer has been my main since Shadowbringers dropped and one of my favorite memories is still spending hours rolling over the Gyr Abanian maps with a bunch of half-dancer, half-gunbreaker fate trains like a steamroller covered in blenders and bayonets, laughing with strangers. I'm hoping pictomancer and viper will be that way too. It was good shit and I'm looking forward to it. I'll have a slightly late start because I've got a friend visiting through Friday, but that's fine. The point is friends anyway, and I need to remember that this time.

[heroofshield]

Whumpcember Day Four; Hidden Injury (Mass Effect, Vega/Ryder)

@whumpcember @anderfels

Warnings: canon type violence

--

The sound of a banshee screaming in the distance made everyone in the squad pause, realizing that they weren't as alone as they thought. The planet was nearly abandoned, those who used to live on it either escaping as Reaper forces attacked or killed in the battles.

"Better hurry it up." Rose Shepard said, turning back to face the structure that they'd located the flags in. "Sounds like the party's headed our way. Vega take our six, Ryder keep those biotics ready, I'll make sure no one's waiting for us inside."

Slowly making her way inside, Rose cautiously cleared the inner vestibule- signalling that it was clear. James Vega and Anna Ryder followed and they effectively made their way room by room, making sure there wasn't a stray husk or anything else waiting for them. Signalling the all-clear once they'd make it to the last room without any surprises, Shepard lowered her rifle but didn't put it away. "Did EDI say where the flags would be?"

Anna shook her head as she clenched her hands to dispel her biotics, "No ma'am. And I didn't spot anything as we cleared the building."

"Hmm. Lets do another sweep, maybe we missed something."

"We didn't check the basement, if there is one." James suggested, knowing that an administrative building like this would defiantly have a basement that they'd store unneeded items until they had to dig them out again for whatever reason.

Anna opened her omni-tool to go over the schematics of the building that had been sent to her and rotated them until she paused. "There is a basement and a sub-basement. If I remember correctly that's where the General said they'd be."

"I knew there was a reason we brought you along Corporal." Rose smiled, even though she knew that probably neither of them could see it through their helmets. "Why don't we split up; I'll take the basement and the two of you take the sub-basement, it'll be faster that way."

"You sure Commander?" James knew that Shepard could handle herself, but at the same time they didn't know if anything was waiting for them down there. And if husks were down there...well anyone could get overrun quickly by those fast fuckers.

Rose nodded her head, "I'm sure. I'll even radio if there's trouble."

--

The sub-basement looked like someone hadn't been down there in a long time. Cobwebs and a thick layer of dust made James glad he had his hardsuit on. "At least I won't get tetanus." he thought as they stared at the rows of items.

"I take left, you take right?" Anna asked, looking over at James and smiling. They'd just started sleeping together while on shore leave and more than once she'd caught herself staring at James while he was working out or doing inventory in the cargo bay. She knew that he was her commanding officer, but at the same time she'd always done reckless things-and sleeping with a superior was only another in a long list.

"Sounds like a plan." James said, starting towards the right- but not before watching Ryder walk away. He knew they were on a mission, but at the same time he couldn't help it; the way her armor framed her body made him think about all the things they could do the next time shore leave was granted. Slightly clearing his throat to refocus, he turned to the task at hand.

Halfway down the row, James paused thinking he'd seen what they were looking for but it turned out to be some old uniforms. "How's the search going Ryder?"

"As thrilling as an elcor performing Shakespeare." Anna replied, eyes skimming over the shelves. "How about you?"

James opened his mouth to reply when their comms activated and they heard Shepard say, "Found them! And we've got company."

The unmistakable screech of husks filled their ears and they both looked at each other through the shelving.

"On our way Commander." James automatically replied, turning and running towards the stairs while pulling out his pistol. A streak of blue filled his peripheral and he realized that Anna must have charged her biotics. He's also be lying if he didn't admit that she looked even more sexy with the energy around her.

In hindsight, James realized that he'd allowed himself to become distracted and wasn't watching where he was going-but in the moment he tried to open the door from the sub-basement while simultaneously exiting, and he collided with the heavy wood. His hand moved in a direction it shouldn't have and let out a flair of pain.

"You okay?" Anna asked, genuinely concerned at James smacking into the door.

"I'm good. It just stuck." James took a step back before shouldering the door, the wood giving a shark crack as it burst open. Not pausing, James strode through and spotted where the Commander was; on the other side of the landing with a medium sized box at her feet as she defended herself from husks with her pistol and knife.

Anna smiled at the sight of the husks and powered up her biotics again to speed to where the Commander was. Not pausing as she reached the Commander, she pulled out her knife as well and went for the nearest husk. She viewed it as a dance, pause and something horrible would happen. Ducking, weaving, and using her pistol when able, she tore through the husks as fast as she could.

James concentrated on the husks that Anna and Shepard couldn't reach, using his rifle to take them down. His wrist protested at holding the weapon, but he knew that he didn't have a choice at the moment. After what seemed like no time at all, the husks had been taken care of.

"Now that's done with, lets leave before this becomes a real party." Rose said, putting her weapons away and grabbing a trunk handle. "Vega, grab the other handle."

"Yes ma'am." James hesitated slightly, because he'd have to grab the handle with his injured wrist. But they needed to get out of there as fast as they could so he'd deal with the discomfort.

Picking it up sent a slight hiss of pain through his lips, but Shepard didn't ask him if he was alright so James swallowed the protest and helped carry the trunk to the LZ and onto the Kodiak.

--

Anna hummed to herself as she finished cleaning her knife and slipped it back into the sheath. She was in a good mood and was determined to ride it out; the post-mission debrief had been short and sweet since no one had been injured and for once there hadn't been a line to the showers so she actually got hot water for once.

Placing the knife in her combat locker, Anna closed it and headed towards the main part of the cargo bay-wondering where James was and if he had anything for her to do since technically she was still on shift for the next thirty minutes. Rounding the corner she paused at hearing a hiss of pain and looked to where it'd come from.

James was sitting by one of the workbenches, but facing away and gripping his arm-his face gritted in pain.

Frowning, Anna cautiously walked up towards him and saw that his wrist was a bright red with spots lightly discolored. "You okay, Lieutenant?"

James looked up to see Anna looking slightly concerned and knew he couldn't play it off. Carrying the heavy trunk for so long had caused his wrist to flair up. Knowing that he'd catch hell from Chakwas since he didn't disclose the injury, he'd decided to just ride it out. Then Anna had spotted him and he knew that wouldn't be an option. "Not at the moment."

"Oh. Mind if I ask what happened?"

"The hand bendy part went 'ow' you know, the usual."

Anna just raised an eyebrow but didn't push the subject. "Mind if I take a look? I mean, I'm not Doctor Chakwas but I've been around my fair share of hand injuries."

"Sure." James watched silently as Anna gently took his hand and examined it, only hissing slightly when she touched the broken skin. "What's the bad news?"

"Looks like a mild sprain." She jumped up while saying, "Wait here."

James watched Anna's retreating figure and wondered what she was up to. Ten minutes later she returned, this time with an ice pack and a cloth. "Do I want to know where you got those ice packs?"

Anna just shrugged as she sat back down in front of James before folding the cloth into a square big enough to cover his wrist, setting it on his skin followed by the ice pack. "I still have my connections."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I need something not readily available."

"Switch after five minutes and see how that feels afterwards." Anna stood, ready to leave and find some busy work until she was off shift. As she passed by James, he caught her hand and gently pulled her back towards him. "Yes?"

"Thank you." James murmured close to Anna's lips, wanting to kiss her but also not wanting to break their 'only on the Citadel' rule.

"You're welcome. And you can make it up to me next time we're on the Citadel." Anna replied just as softly, trying to ignore how her heart fast her heart was beating at how little space there was between them.

"I'll keep that in mind."