#fic: rated m

[rexsokaficquotes]

“Let’s talk about Commander Tano, then,” says Cody mildly, straightening with a glint in his eye. He’s found the exposed nerve and he knows it. “You think I don’t see you with your Jedi, Rex’ika? At least I have the decency to keep it behind closed doors.”

Rex keeps his cool. On the inside, he’s burning from the memory of Tano and Skywalker in that cave, Anakin kneeling to meet his eyes and Ahsoka’s fingers soothing his pulse. It’s uncomfortably heavy. What’s worse is that—like Cody must see, because again, Cody knows All—there is a treacherous part of him that… itches, and it’s flaring like a homing beacon. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?”

— lookondownfromthebridge, from Chapter 2: with you I serve, with you I fall in ‘i ought to be thy Adam’

[cloneshipficquotes]

It turns out, Fives was right about Echo.

When he'd told him, all those months ago, that Echo would've liked him, Tup had assumed it was flattery, but Echo does like him. Tup thought it might be hard to share Fives with someone with whom he shares so much history. The bond between them was intimidating at first (if the general dragged them off to the temple tomorrow saying they had the Force, Tup would be inclined to believe him), but they’ve never made him feel left out. In fact, he enjoys seeing the way they work and live together seamlessly, like they can read each other’s minds.

— loverboy_havocboy, from a kiss while someone watches - “new poly” echo/fives/tup

[ao3demographicssurvey2024]

In the AO3 Demographics Survey 2024 - an unofficial demographics survey of 16,131 AO3 users - the "Mature" rating was ranked most enjoyed by consumers, while those posting works most frequently posted "Teen and Up". Only 16% of those who had posted works to AO3 said they had never posted M/M, while 69% of consumers "Strongly Enjoyed" M/M works.

To see more analysis, including transcripts of all the data shown on the graphs, please view the full results on AO3 for both ratings and relationship types.

[sunnydbeam]

Gamma Code - Chapter 1: Hell In The Darkness

▪︎ Word count: 4,628

▪︎ Rating: M

▪︎ Chapter summary:

Your routine, methodical job becomes a deadly pursuit when you get caught up in a problem you didn't know existed. It turns out to be your problem now.

[lynnearlington]

how can we be lovers (if we can't be friends) - chapter vi

Supergirl, Kara/Lena, M

“I believe there are no less than ten bedrooms in The Manor,” Veronica says in that voice of superiority she’s so perfected. “But by all means, continue to defile the Buttery.” 

When I have no plans to abandon this fic, I mean it. More Hockey AU to be read: HERE.

ko-fi | fic tag

[mike-wachowski]

“Okay.” Sam takes a deep breath, in and out, and Lena can see the cloud of frost forming around her exhale. The sub-thermal temperature of the freezer is already thawing what was left of Lena’s growing hot rage. “Spill. Why are you acting like a dick?” 

Lena huffs. “I’m certainly not acting like a dick. Jess made a mistake. It’s within my duties as the head chef to make sure everything is perfect—”

Sam raises a hand and immediately silences her. “Lena. I’m not your brother. I don’t want you to be perfect. I don’t need you to be our boss right now. I need you to be our friend.” Sam pulls out an empty apple crate from the bottom shelf and plants herself down on it. “Now tell me what’s wrong. Please.” 

Lena slumps to the floor. She sighs, watching the small puff of ice that gathers around her breath, and buries her head in her hands. 

She whispers, “Kara and I kissed.”

“What?” Sam leans in. “Lena, you gotta speak up, the fan is on-”

“Kara and I kissed!” Lena shoots her head up, making eye contact with Sam. “Kara and I kissed, and… we haven't talked about it or anything, and we haven’t done it since, but I— I made her pizza, and my brother called, and I was so upset, and I kissed her, and I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

the final chapter of you can tell a whole story with a taste is now live (and its 16k!)

you can read it from the start here.

[arty-platypi]

a couple of doodles for my Roz x Vontra fic and cover ideas for said fic. i chose to use the texture of the brush to help with the "shading" in the mini illustrations but now that i'm seeing it here on tumblr the image quality brings it down lole. Haven't been drawing them too much but it's just because I keep writing for them, ha...

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

hi hello for drunken love confessions prompts 16 "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams we're usually kissing." if anything comes to yooou 💘💘💘

hiii my love thank you SO much for this prompt, it brought me joy when i really needed it, and im sorry it took me so long asdfghjkl

drunk love confessions prompts : "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams we’re usually kissing."

you fill my head with you | 22K | buddie drunk love confession | ao3

And then everything winded down, their friends decided to turn in and head home. Him and Eddie were the last to leave, and he–

He stumbled out of the bar right beside Eddie. He–Oh god, he threw himself all over Eddie. He flirted. He–he told Eddie that–

Buck’s hand stills, the toothbrush lying on his tongue with dead weight, uncomfortable and somewhat annoying, but Buck can’t even think about that because he fucking told Eddie that he dreams about them kissing.

What the fuck?

What the actual, horrible, unholy fuck?

Buck has to leave.

He needs to find a deep, dark hole to climb inside. Bury himself so that he can never come out.

He told Eddie he dreams about them kissing.

He can never see Eddie again for as long as he lives and that’s such a terrifying, heartbreaking, impossible thought, but that’s the way it has to be.

or, a night of drinking leads to buck confessing his feelings to eddie and they are both very stupid about it

read on ao3

[dangerpronebuddie]

Blood On My Shirt (Heart In My Hand) 10k

"I'll go find him," Buck says, ruffling Chris' hair as he skips away. "Eds!" Buck calls. "If you don't get back here, Chim's gonna steal your cake. It's not great cake but you'll still pout about it." He rounds the corner... And his heart falls at his feet. Eddie lay face down on the floor, a pool of red growing around him and shining in the sunlight from the open doors.

[read on ao3]

For @badthingshappenbingo and for @monsterrae1 's Spooktober week 1

[cursio-neptune]

[fine-nephrit]

🥏 TXF Fic Rec #42: "Universal Invariant" by Syntax6

It’s rare to find a novel-length, all-encompassing fic set in season 1. Today’s fic is exactly that: a celebrated classic exploring a ‘what if’ scenario where Scully’s deleted live-in boyfriend, Ethan, sticks around. The story begins with Scully’s assignment to the X Files in the ‘Pilot’ and concludes with her return from abduction in ‘One Breath’.

We get to experience the M/S dynamic right from the very beginning, watching their partnership evolve from suspicion to trust, with a repressed, burgeoning attraction. In Syntax6’s skillful hands, you know what that means: lots of delicious, in-character UST.

Ethan plays a major role, adding to the emotional tangle. The ‘Other’ character is often reduced to a flat plot-device or crudely villainized, but Syntax6’s characters are always likable and sympathetic. She writes the best ‘/Other’ plot in this fandom, enhancing the journey to MSR.

It’s a lot of fun to see how the story neatly interweaves with canon episodes, a hallmark of Syntax6’s writing. What’s more, She’s best known for her case files, and there’s a strong original casefile tossed in the mix, which I enjoyed immensely. And we get another of her signature moves: a very hot, well-written sex scene with explosive intensity, placed at the perfect spot in the story. She really does it all, and makes it look effortless.

---

🥏 on author's site

author: @syntax6 length: novel, 80,000+ words season: season 1, early season 2 pairing(s): M/S UST, Scully/Ethan, Mulder/Other tags: AU, episode-related, casefile, angst, Mytharc, abduction arc, jealousy, amnesia, good OCs rating: explicit/NC-17

tagging @today-in-fic

[rexsokaficquotes]

“Ahsoka-” Rex hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say, before continuing, “Why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” Her face had a quick flash of puzzlement but her tone was gentle.

“Are you here because of the rebellion?”

“No, Rex.” She stepped closer and looked him square in the eyes, “I’m here for you.”

— BlueStarlalight, from Chapter 3 in ‘Untrained’

[cloneshipficquotes]

Crosshair blinked several times as the words washed over him, Crib, Rocking Chair, Breast Feeding, Baby? His eyes shot over to Hunter, his eyes landing squarely on the round stomach he had thought was a beer belly.

“You’re pregnant?” He demanded.

Mayday cocked on his non-alcoholic beer as he laughed, “You just noticed?”

“I thought he was fat…” Crosshair blushed looking away.

Hunter snorted, “Wow, Good luck with Him.”

— Fox_Tails, from Chapter 1 in ‘Through the Lens’

[meg-noel-art]

Dropping my new Arcane fic here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62239564

Please be cautious of the tags if you choose to read!! 🙏

[ekingstonart]

in lieu of a functional brain progress on the final chapter of The Shape of Soup, i bring you horny art

[desceros]

oops you got something between your fingers there, let me get that for you real quick <3

evil evil evil evil evil evil strikes back out of self defense

It's not too uncommon that you wait for him to come home. Not only has his shitty apartment all but become a second home to you, but he's started making little jokes that you aren't completely sure are really jokes about you moving in with him instead.

As such, he doesn't say anything when he comes in through the door and finds you sitting at his kitchen table, scrolling through your phone looking at the cute dog pictures April's sending you from her latest venture to make ends meet as a dog walker. Not until you look up and smile as you see him, putting your phone down because he's infinitely more interesting.

"Why aren't you sitting on the couch where it's softer?" he asks, slowly stripping the outside world from himself as he gets close. His swords. His belt of medical supplies you keep stocked up nicely for him. A bag whose contents you don't know, but judging from the care with which he puts it down on the counter, you suspect is quite valuable.

"I thought you'd be hungry when you got back," you tell him, gesturing at a tupperware of food you'd brought over from the lair. Leo still doesn't have a decent set of pans, and you've forbidden him from buying any since you can cook just as well at the lair and bring things over. (You're surprised he's held out this long; though you suspect it may be because he has a not-too-incorrect mental image of Donnie's pissy face when he smells you cook something nice and learns it's for Leonardo, not him.)

Leo sits at the table adjacent to you, popping off the lid. It's still warm, thankfully, and his face gets a little softer when he starts to dig in like he's starving. He doesn't compliment it, but you don't need him to. The way he goes quiet, not even speaking in the interest of eating the stir fry you'd tossed together, is all the feedback you need.

Smiling fondly, you grab into the bag you'd brought and pull out an orange. Slowly, you start to peel it, piece by piece. The oil of the rind clings to your skin, making the air between you fragrant with citrus. All the way down to the juicy flesh, until you split it in half, then pluck out a single piece.

Reaching out between Leo's bites, you hold the piece between your fingers. He stares at it for a moment, glancing between it and your face, then opens his mouth so you can slide it inside.

"This was a really yummy batch," you tell him as he chews, eyes falling down to where you peel away another piece. It has a little string on it, which you pick away lovingly before holding out to him just like the one before. "Nice and juicy. I was surprised, considering the time of year."

Leo takes the second piece in his mouth, and the next time you look down to the orange to pull him away another piece, you feel the weight of his stare on the side of your face and the apartment falls silent. No longer do his chopsticks scratch away at the tupperware.

Still, you persist, relentless in your affectionate care. "I've been saving the peels to make a nice cleaning spray. Apparently, you can put them in a bottle with a bit of vinegar, and it smells really nice and works pretty well," you continue to ramble. You hold out another piece. He leans in, his teeth finding the soft flesh with a heavier purpose now. You avoid meeting his gaze, torn between enjoying this little dance and not wanting it to end too quickly.

Another piece hovers in the air, and this time, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and holds it in place. You look up, startled, only to stare with wide eyes as he slides your fingers and the orange slice into his mouth together. His tongue finds the fruit and brings it to his teeth, splitting it open and coating his mouth and your fingers with its sweet juice. Messily, it beads down your palm, to your wrist, tickling even as your breath catches in your throat when he glides his tongue along the webbing of your fingers to catch its origin. Hot, wet, he licks at your skin, suckling the love off of you like it's the waters of the fountain of life itself.

Your mouth falls open as his teeth scrape at your palm, the hitched breath coming out of your lungs on a jagged sound that sounds a bit like a whine in the dead air between you. Mouth curling into a smug smirk, he kisses down the line of the orange juice to your pulse, bending your hand back and sinking his teeth into your wrist hard enough to leave a mark.

It's then that you finally meet his gaze, and see in it the dangerous flame you'd stoked. You swallow thickly, pressing your thighs together beneath the table. Silly you to forget that it's always the little gestures that drive him the most mad.

Trailing his tongue up your hand to flick it between your fingers, Leo groans, squeezing his eyes shut like the taste of you wounds him. Maybe it does, in a way, you think, feeling the almost painful ache of your own arousal that he so easily calls to the surface.

Licking your lips, clumsy from the rushing blood beneath your skin when he slides your fingers into his mouth and begins to suck on them while bobbing his head slowly, you reach with shaking fingers to pull away another piece of the orange. When Leo looks at you—no doubt visibly affected, dilated pupils, bitten lips, chest rising with your accelerated breath—he chuckles before sinking his teeth into the flesh of your palm, lathing it with his tongue before he releases you.

"How many more do you think you'll be able to share before you break for me, mi corderita?" he asks slyly, taking the piece from you and resting it on your spit-soaked fingers, gliding them into his mouth to begin the process all over again to send you into a hazy, needy state.

The answer, you'll later bemoan as you stare, stunned, completely fucked out, at the ceiling of his bedroom with a familiar full-body ache and the smell of oranges strong in your nose, is one.