#there's a reason this fic is in my mind divided into 3 parts being

[altschmerzes]

🌹 - something to hold onto?

YESSSSS you got it. i wanted to get a lot more done on that last week but. alas. anyways have this, from the 'mac has a horrifically traumatic time in medical after being rescued' portion of part 2.

cw for well. this is called the torturefic for a reason lmao and nothing is Happening but the aftermath of what happened to mac has left him in Bad Condition, physically and mentally.

The CT scan is both better and worse than the physical exam had been. It’s better because although they’re getting imaging of Mac’s neck, it’s at least a process that doesn’t involve anyone making contact with him. Despite the oppressive claustrophobia that comes along with being penned in by the machine, he isn’t actually being touched. And it’s worse because Jack isn’t there.

Adrien and the CT techs were going to let him sit in the little room far enough away that he would be safe. They were willing to bend protocol for situations like this, and it wouldn’t be the first time they had done so. Except that as soon as Mac was situated and about to go into the machine, skin itching at the sense of being so defenceless, he couldn’t stand it and he’d started smacking the side of the gurney like Adrien had told him to if he needed them to stop.

Jack had to leave. The sense that there was someone in the room, out of sight and unable to be identified by a familiarly calloused hand in his, was worse than being in there alone and it made Mac start to panic. The hair-raising sense that someone was there, watching, someone who could do anything to him that he wouldn’t be able to see it coming was just too much for his fried system to process. He feels bad for kicking Jack out of the room, but the feeling is faint and fleeting. At this point, there isn’t much space left in Mac’s mind to feel much of anything new around the constant, fluctuating tide of pain the fear that keeps gnawing at him no matter how many times that he reassures himself — or is reassured by Adrien or Jack — that he’s safe now.

When Jack leaves, he does so without complaint or indication that he’s hurt by the request, which is a relief. He stops and looks back from the doorway, and Mac can’t even muster a reassuring smile for him. Jack sends one of his own instead, his eyes crinkling in a way that makes Mac’s sting like he might cry again. He doesn’t, staring at the ceiling through a strange sheen until he’s sure he can blink without anything coming free, but it’s a near thing.

Thankfully, the CT results don’t show anything life-threatening. It’s about what Mac would have predicted — the damage is bad but it isn’t fatal or permanent. They’ll keep an eye on it, but otherwise it’s time to move on. There are other injuries that need a prognosis.

[godjo]

✮ — altar girl.

hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire?

tags — true form!sukuna x concubine/f!reader. 3k wc. explicit smut. dubcon at first (trust me in this one pls). exhibitionism. thigh riding. doggy style. manhandling. rough sex. womb fucking. humongous cock!sukuna (hello???). multiple orgasms. mindbreak. drool. cunnilingus bordering on tongue-fucking. orgasm denial once. he carries you. creampie. lots of cum. fuckton of religious symbolism. physical violence against the reader but not from sukuna. sukuna calls you brat like one time. minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni.

from hunter — not to be dramatic or whatever but i do feel like this fic took a huge chunk off of my sanity … the things i do for sukuna omg … if this flops i will officially retire from tumblr /j + also it's 3 am for me so i didn't proofread the last bits and i prolly got lazy ... ha ha ... ✮

gods exist. 

the annals of history tell us so.

they exist in a way that no mortal can comprehend, for a god is more than a face. they leave their imprints not with their feet but with the rise and fall of dynasties, the ruination of empires, and the death of kings. they materialize as the birth of a deluge and they rise as the reason for war. it is not the body that proves their existence but the carnage they leave behind. 

they have manifested before human eyes through myriad guises, and once again incarnated in the flesh of ryomen sukuna. 

many have met their untimely demise at his hands; he walks the earth with their tormented souls at his feet. from village to village, their numbers increased until a procession of weeping thickened behind him. hundreds of graves mark the land since his advent, and yet the heavens remain deaf to the hysterical prayers for justice. only he can hear the prayers; only he laughs at them. 

they say he is a devil. you say he is a god. because only a god can saturate the earth with blood and emerge unpunished from such transgression. hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire? 

ryomen sukuna, in a form of some twisted mockery, decides to act the part. and so like every famished god, he demands a sacrifice to satisfy his voracious appetite. you would think that a house of gold would placate his hunger for blood, but riches mean nothing to him. his appetite needs flesh and it is flesh he got. 

“have i been too lenient that you’d dare fight amongst yourselves when i’m not around?” his voice reverberates inside the room. low, guttural, and pregnant with malice. it is enough to scorch everyone’s lungs with tension. 

you want to run away from this nightmare. go back to the peaceful bliss of mundanity when sukuna is only a piece of horrifying tale used to frighten children and not an absolute being seated cross-legged mere inches away. you try transporting your mind back to the days before his pillaging, before your village succumbed to his authority. yet his pervasive presence obstructs all your pathetic attempts at nostalgia. 

“look at what you did to the poor girl.” two of his four hands sweep you from your position to his lap, parading you to the rest of tearful eyes looking at him with entreaty. 

and it stings— their eyes. you’re in the claw of a savage hound from hell, ready to be devoured, with only your hadajuban as protection. even in this pitiful state, they offer no sympathy. their tears are for themselves alone despite their cruelty being the reason for your shared plight.

selfish bitches. 

“was it jealousy that caused this infighting? have i not divided my attention to all of you equally?” sukuna continuously taunts, lacing his voice with poisonous prudence. he fools no one and that’s what urges him forward. everyone knows that his seemingly laidback attitude is plain derision. nonetheless, he tastes the lingering hope in each of your faces before dragging his teeth along such pathetic daydreams.

“y… you have, my lord,” one of the women answers, her voice betraying a noticeable stutter. “if you would permit me to speak, i can offer his lordship an explanation for what transpired in the courtyard.”

sukuna emits a languid sigh as he rests his cheek upon his fist. he runs a rough hand down your arm, triggering vibration in the pit of your stomach. his hand is as huge as your face, his fingers long enough to snap your neck with ease. despite the surge of terror, you fight the urge to retch.

after a moment of battling your dread, it’s repulsion that filled you afterwards. repulsion rising from the woman’s explanation for your wretched state. the rest of the women nod their heads along with her account of how you tripped on a slippery stone multiple times, causing your current injuries, as if you’re a toddler who cannot orient her legs properly. 

they will save themselves with falsehood. 

sukuna yawns after the woman’s narration. his set of eyes seeking you after in the silence. 

“this matter is of your stupidity, then? you’ve wasted my time, brat.” he dips his cadence in amusement and disgust. 

anger flares within you, filling your nose and ears with the bitter scent of hatred, yet its heat descended down your throat, dampening your ability to defend yourself. what is one against many? there are twenty concubines in this room and nineteen of them just sold you to your demise for unintentionally raising this trifle to the lord of the land.

all of this— all of this merely because they have immersed themselves in playing a game in which you’ve been excluded since your arrival. after all, you’re just another competition for sukuna’s attention. 

“have mercy, my lord,” you whisper, on the verge of losing your sentience. “i… i mean no disrespect. it’s… it’s stupid of me—”

sukuna drawls, “speak no more of your nonsense. i have heard enough.” 

distressed apologies race past your mouth, along with entreaties that he spares your life. but you should’ve known that a god won’t turn his back on the sacrifice of blood. 

thus, when his enormous body finally moves to encase your fragility, you close your eyes and with jittering teeth have accepted your fate. you wait for the final release of death, a snap or his fist through your heart, but none came. instead, at your feet lay your torn garments, casting your nakedness before the other concubines in a humiliating display. the crisp air blows against your nipples, causing them to pucker tight. the same air turns your blood gelid, your bones immovable. 

“now, let’s see what all the fuss is about.” from behind, sukuna gropes your breasts, swirling the tips of your nipples with his fingers. “i’ll kill anyone who looks away.” the warning is vehement, ripe with threat, that even mere insects won’t dare defy it. 

is this the ultimate act of worship? to be stripped of all your layers? to be eaten?

his lips latch onto the bareness of your neck, sharp teeth dragging across the skin. the silence is thick, saved for the sound of your uneven breathing and the rustling of fabric as the concubines shift uncomfortably on their seats. sukuna’s wet and unusually long tongue starts licking the base of your shoulder to the back of your ear, before placing his thick and robust thigh between your quivering legs. 

your exposed cunt sticks to his skin, pussy folds flapping open. with practiced ease, as if manipulating the strings of a marionette, he subtly guided your movements. he has your pulsing clit riding the ridges of his thigh as if gushing all over will save you from inevitable demise. 

“m… mhm!” no longer entirely in control of your own form, you turn and sway in a helpless dance to his hands’ command. a gasp tinged with surprise and undeniable pleasure, escapes your lips and echoes softly in the confines of the room. you feel the searing heat of the concubines’ gazes drilling into you, a tangible weight of disapproval and something more primal — a flicker of envious fascination.

“for a condemned woman, aren’t you loving this too much?” sukuna takes the reins to your body. with speed that has your heavy tits bouncing, he secures your waist and drags your slick pussy faster and more recklessly. 

pleasure, sharp and electric at first, surges through your core, blossoming outwards like a firework. your cunt clenches and unclenches involuntarily, a delicious tremor wracking your body. the world narrows, sound and sight fading at the edges as every nerve ending sings with a single, glorious purpose. slowly, the intensity ebbs to leave a pleasant afterglow that paints your limbs with a newfound weight.

you’re but a tiny speck compared to sukuna’s imposing body; a feeble creature under the jurisdiction of a god. 

possessive hands have found you in your fleeting refuge, scooping your lower body up like you weigh nothing. with the tip of his finger he traces the curve of your spine, pressing enough weight to flatten your stomach against the tatami mat. 

“even your back is filled with lacerations,” he points out brusquely.

sukuna’s hefty cock drops to the base of your spine, its puffed up cocktip lazily pulsing to leak his thick liquids of pre-ejaculate. it must’ve been a whole arm laying heavy against your spine, warm with a gluttonous desire to ram itself through the sloppy confines of your pussy. 

and you lay there, waiting for his teeth and his claws and his animalistic hunger to devour. he presses his chest to your back, filling your ears with promises that he’s going to feed on you, eat you down to the marrow of your bones— and you’ll love it. 

“look at them,” sukuna hisses as he tugs at your forehead, “i want you to look at them while i fuck you.”

with your flesh you’ve received him like some kind of communion from root to tip. he hammers your cunt with his cock, until the heat of his savage lust reaches the pit of your belly. you feel his warmth soiling your cervix and uterus with every vigorous thrust. 

“oh! m… mhm!”  completely overtaken by sukuna, your thighs can only twitch as he destroys your insides. 

“you’re soaking wet,” he groans in your ear, deliberately adjusting his pace so he can coat his thick girth all over with your creamy hole, “and so fucking tight.” 

sukuna grunts like a wounded animal each time his cocktip kisses the smooth spot of your womb. a sheen of sweat glazes his body, tattoos aglow in the lanterns, from manically fucking your cunt. he bares his fangs whenever you tighten around his shaft enfolded with prominent and proud veins. 

the once vibrant forms of the concubines, their faces alight with prurient interest, dissolve into a sea of indistinct shapes as fog descends upon your sight. you’ve been reduced to a babbling and drooling mess, unable to grasp the reality that you’re being mounted and fucked to madness before several witnesses.

sukuna extends his hand, searching for your abandoned clit during his primal need to turn your pussy to pulp. 

“there it is,” he breathes against your clammy cheek, satisfied at his discovery. 

“n… no! not there…!” you pant as the last thread of reason frays and snaps. 

a tempestuous force of pleasure sweeps through you, leaving behind a tremor that has shaken you to the core. around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations spins until a guttural moan runs from your lips, delivered by the exquisite torment of rapture. your nails scrape desperately across the tatami mat, clinging at the remnants of spilled sanity. 

sukuna cackles at your desperation to find a moment’s reprieve. the roughened end of his fingers dip into your yielding flesh as he forcefully slams your pussy back to his cock.  

“you’re not going anywhere,” he pronounces frenziedly, his eyes blowing wide. sukuna’s desperation for release intensifies to the point where he’s blatantly manhandling you, brutalizing your cunt and his cock during the process of reaching zenith. flesh meets flesh, fervid thrusts after fervid thrusts, until he feels that familiar coil in his own stomach. 

sukuna plugs your abused cunt with inconceivable amounts of cum. his cock pulses wildly, shooting globules straight to your womb it’s almost physically possible to feel his viscous cum filling every crevice of your uterus. when he’s finally pulled out, ropy cum still links his raw cocktip to your pulsing pussy hole. despite such a mind-numbing culmination, sukuna’s cock refuses to yield. it springs up proudly, aching for another taste.  

“what a sight,” sukuna issues with cavernous and demonic utterance, pertaining to your body lying inert upon the tatami mat. he sweeps the sodden hair from his brow with a lordly air, his pride evident in the contemptuous curve of his lips. 

look at the state he’s reduced you to. his thick ejaculation pools around your lower body because your little pussy can’t hold all of him. with an indifferent shrug, sukuna lowers his formidable body to your level. and only when the malevolent glint in his eyes becomes apparent does the gravity of the situation dawn upon you.

he starts fucking your cunt with his tongue.

you grit your teeth in response as sukuna places your knees upon his shoulders, burying the slimy width of his tongue in your heated pussy. it’s no mere licking— he’s practically shoved his tongue up your gummy walls, toying with the warmth of his cum pooled in your poor cunt while simultaneously licking your puffed up clit. 

“o… oh! c… can’t— please, please!” drool seeps between your gritted cuspids after your hysterical plea.

pearlescent tears warm the corner of your eyes. your sensitivity from his rigorous fucking has not yet abated, but another swell of release approaches at a hand’s reach. down to your heart, the bundles of nerves and veins constrict painfully because it’s too much. you have nowhere else to put the pleasure— the imminent pinnacle will utterly ruin you.

i’m losing my mind

i’m losing my mind

i’m losing my mind—

when ecstasy is but a heartbeat away, sukuna withdraws, denying you the finality your body craves. as if saved from drowning, you suck in and grace your lungs with air only to be propelled back to the brink of delirium when he lifts you up from the floor like a breeze. 

with carnal ferocity, he seizes the meaty flesh of your haunches with two of his limbs, while the others secure your torso. there and there, sukuna slots his insatiable cock in your dribbling cunt; an act that he’s accomplished without effort because you’re so wet, he’s slid right in. 

everyone has witnessed sukuna’s cock abusing your tingling pussy; all can see how he bounces your tingling cunt along his stiff length without strain. 

“yes… squeeze my cock like the obedient girl you are,” he sibilates on your face, followed by a harsh chuckle. “you can’t hear me now, can you?”

the voice is a distant echo, barely perceptible to your waning senses. your body, devoid of strength, limps completely in sukuna’s embrace. he buries his face in the crooks of your damped neck, groaning and babbling as he ruts into your swollen pussy. 

“how come you’re still so fucking tight?”

hasn’t he prepared you for his sheer girth? hasn’t he stimulated your pussy enough to hug his cock smoothly and effortlessly? you’ve already coated his balls shiny with all the slick your cunt has produced, but sukuna’s chest tightens because you’re milking him with a viselike grip. 

yes, it is human that he’s even affected by this carnal desire. what more can he do? he feels faint with exultation merely by fucking you. 

sukuna pumps your pussy to the hilt with slow yet profound thrusts. he bares his teeth down the blade of your shoulder as the maelstrom of release engulfs him completely. battered by waves of ecstasy, he grunts with your flesh between his teeth, the rough sound reverberating deep from his belly.

you must’ve reached the peak with him— you absolutely cannot tell. the only thing that your puddled mind can grasp is the swirl of his potent cum in the pit of your womb and the endless pulse of your cunt as you struggle to accommodate his release. 

petrified and silent, the remaining concubines are as fixed in place as if struck by an immobilizing spell. yet they watch— they watch intently while sukuna’s cock throbs with white strings of cum dripping from your cunt hole down to his balls and thighs. a hefty amount pools beneath him, oozing from where the both of you are connected. 

the envy that consumed them is a silent, suffocating thing, a palpable presence thick enough to choke. this envy deepens as they witness the delicacy with which sukuna has placed your dormant body on his own tatami mat. they grit their teeth secretly, throwing every known curse your way. may your womb not bear the fruits of sukuna’s seed, they vehemently pray. 

for ryomen sukuna, it’s nothing but a moment’s weakness, a foreign string of unknown emotion that you’ve managed to evoke from him. and even though he’s beyond human grace, he’s wasted your body to his own satisfaction, it’s only right to touch you with his claws retracted.

“performance is over, my dearests,” sukuna announces while a smirk tugs at his lips. facing his concubines, he dons his fundoshi haphazardly that it barely covers what it means to hide. 

“w… what will become of her, my lord?” one dares to ask. 

a fleeting, imperious gaze from sukuna sweeps over you before ushering the women from the opulent chamber. “you shouldn’t worry yourselves about such trivial matters. she will meet her own reckoning by my hands.”

a wave of malicious satisfaction ripples through the group as they exchange covert nods. you’re already a dead woman. with poisonous glee, they bow before ryomen sukuna with their faces shaped in unbridled mirth. 

“make sure that my wives are accompanied home safely,” sukuna orders the nearest guards. he tastes their fear hanging heavy in the air just by being in his presence. oh, humans. 

as the group began to retreat, they cast over their shoulders a flurry of flirtatious farewells to the imposing sukuna. however, before they could vanish entirely from sight, his deep voice cut through their progress.

“guards, before i forgot…” sukuna displays a grotesque smile filled with malice. “kill them all. i want nineteen heads on my feet tomorrow.”

they say he is a devil. 

you say he is a god. 

and despite all the names, sukuna has found himself a place of worship, with you as his altar. 

[wyvernest]

Oh my god I saw your requests were open and I love eveything you write<33

I See many fics where Miguel is the one who is jealous, but what if the tables turned and the reader is the one who is jealous, maybe she’s a civilian and she feels like he’d be better of with a spider person who understands his work better? I’d love to see him feel sad that his love feels that way can you tell I like pain lol

Thank you so so much<33 wishing you all the best for your exam! I’m sure you’ll do amazing!

shameless

pairing: bf!miguel x f!civilian!reader

warnings: jealousy, fluff, suggestiveness, public display of affection

summary: you're worried that miguel might be better off with a spider-person, but he is eager to reassure you (and everyone else) that you're more than enough

a/n:thank you and i hope you like it! im thinking of making a part 2 with balcony sex above nueva york let me know if yall would want it<3

divider by @cafekitsune

You are aware of the so called disadvantages of him being your boyfriend.

He is handsome, no doubt. But that means a lot more than being able to watch him work around the HQ, swinging your legs and wondering how you landed him.

It means having unfamiliar eyes linger over him more than you'd be able to tolerate. Flirty looks and remarks thrown at him like he's magnetic, regardless of everyone knowing he's with you.

Even walking through the glassy hallways and cloud scratching towers of Spider Society is a stab in the heart. 

Noticing all the single spider-women look him up and down, eyelids heavy with the seconds that passed as they unabashedly stared at his physique; his broad back, the bulky arms and toned thighs, at the way the muscles underneath his suit rippled with every heavy step he took, not letting his weight drop lazily on each foot but rather walking with the energetic strength of a man with insane stamina.

You couldn't stop a venomous surge of anxiety mixed with the most sour amount of jealousy from dripping into your nerves as you met their gazes, seeing how beautiful and charismatic they all were.

How agile and gracious they were, swinging by just to blow Miguel a fleeting kiss.

And you certainly couldn't stop wondering if he'd be better off with one of them. One of his kind. One that would be able to swing alongside him, to practise with him, to accompany him.

One that would understand him better than perhaps you ever could.

You know he loves you, or else you wouldn't be together. But the idea that he maybe even once looked at all the women lining up for him and thought they'd be interesting to try is gutting you out.

And he starts noticing it.

Of course.

He isn't oblivious to how you straightened your back or curled your arms around his when another spider woman passed you with flirty looks or remarks. How you'd shut down and become awfully quiet when you two would get home following one of these encounters.

He couldn't bear to see you unhappy. Some of the times he even felt the sharp sting of guilt poking into his heart, knowing that he was the reason others were upsetting you.

More so, your bond.

You are heading towards his lab at HQ, walking beside him, heart pounding intermittently with anxiety and bubbling anger. Eyes darting around you swiftly, like those of a feral feline making sure no other animal is preparing to jump her and snatch her food from her.

Suddenly, two flowy silhouettes shoot mile long webs far up into a tunnel bridge, only to drop down and swing right past you and Miguel. 

Purring out a simultaneous "¡Hola, Miguel! Looking good today!", reaching their hands down to him while boasting perfect balance with their webs tied to their ankles, they disappear into the distanced skyscrapers of Nueva York, with echoing giddy laughters.

Miguel doesn't move his head in their direction, already way too familiar with such interactions, and already too interested in hearing only one particular ¡Hola, Miguel! - yours.

Only your focus isn't on him. Your mind is running wild with how talented they seemed to be, how flexible and enticing. Already imagining him, playfully swinging with them, his force and precision perfectly matching their grace and melodic rhythm.

A dance you could never participate in.

What you also fail to see is the frown on his face as he turns to you, intrigued and finally ready to catch you off guard.

"¿Qué pasó, amor?" (What happened, love?) He leaned into you, dragging you by your arm to stop you behind a glass pillar. 

You're hauled out of your reverie, eyes widening in panic as you think of something less pathetic and embarrassing to say than the truth.

"Hm? Nothing, I just think they're nice to look at." You motion with your head the direction the two women swung in, clarifying. "Everytime you bring me here, it's all so … breathtaking." You internally wince at the excuse, pulling the best poker face you could muster.

He takes a deep breath, annoyed but patient.

"You know you can tell me anything." He assures you, voice low and whispered so as not to embarrass you in front of the spiders passing by. He is aware that the place isn't the most fitting for the conversation, but any other time he'd tried to coax it out of you, you dismissed it with a "It's nothing. I'm just feeling off today."

Truth be told, he had his suspicions. He is by no means unacquainted with the ways of women, and without a single condescending bone in his body when it came to you, he wants you to spit it out so you could talk about it. So he could untangle the knots in your heart, the doubts about him and your relationship.

"I know." You reply shortly, something in you dying to snap out and tell him everything, but instead, you shut it down at the last moment and decided to leave it at that.

"Then why don't you?" He looms over you, unintentionally, but you start to feel utterly cornered. Your heart is drumming out of your chest, and you are more than certain he can at least hear it. His face reveals his disappointment, however hopeful and attentive he wants to seem.

And just like that, your fronts break down.

"I'm - Don't get me wrong," you trail off, not looking him in the eye. You feel his warm breath fan over your forehead, getting dizzy from the sudden proximity. "I love this place. All the work you put into it.." Your eyes meet his for a fleeting second. "But sometimes it reminds me of how different I am.", You pause, waiting for a response. When he doesn't interrupt, you continue, "How I don't fit in,... here, beside you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looks almost pissed, as if you had told him he doesn't fit in. As if he was the one that didn't fit you.

"I mean I'm not … them. I'm not a spider."

"I'm aware of that." he retorts, ironically. "When did that stop me from loving you?". His tone is scolding. He is trying to maintain an unaffected demeanor so you would keep talking, but inside, his heart cracks at your words.

Your face heats up, surprised.

"It's not that." You have to actively stop yourself from leaning into his body and hiding into the warmth of his embrace, so that maybe all the jealousy and worry will wash away. But he deserves an explanation, now that you've admitted your feelings. "They know a side of you that I can only imagine. How it feels to be…like you."

His face softens, full of love and pity.

"I'm the odd one out here." You spit out, frustrated with his silence. "I can't give you everything they can!"

"I don't want what they have." He answers quickly, sincerely. You find it hard to believe, even though he's never lied to you.

To you, he's perfect. He deserves everything. Everything he could get.

And you're not enough.

"Escúchame." (Listen to me) He leans closer into you, his breath hot on your face. "Estoy enamorado de ti." (I'm in love with you.) "I only need you to be happy." 

You finally meet his gaze, full of consideration and fondness. You pray to whatever god hears you that he means it, because you're too far gone in your love for him to go back now.

"What will it take for you to just relax and stop being jealous, hm?" He whispers, smugly and amused. It's clear that he's flattered with your sentiments and possessiveness, but wants to nonetheless fix your issues.

You feel yourself getting immersed into the scent of him, his body heat radiating onto yours. You don't quite know the answer yourself. He grabs your waist right above your hips, sending shivers up your spine. Pulling you closer to him, he moves his head to your ear.

"What if I kissed you right here, right now? Let everyone know that I love you, and only you."

Miguel was very clearly overjoyed with the excuse to show you some public affection, especially if it meant having you so flustered and pliant beneath him.

"Would that make you feel better? Knowing they'll be the jealous ones now?"

You nod, more or less consciously, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes almost reflexively.

His warm and eager hands on your waist strengthen their grip, lifting you further up against his body as your feet lose contact with the ground, your chest meeting his. His lips are soft and tender against yours, dancing in a slow, passionate kiss. With your eyes still closed, you hear a few gasps near you in the hall; some happily amused, some offended.

But you don't care. All you care about right now is how he's tilting your head to the side with one of his palms at the back of your neck, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss. 

You continue to make out without a care in the world, just for the whole Spider Society to receive a much needed reminder that Miguel O'Hara is taken. 

His hands knead the supple flesh of your lower back, making your hum softly into his mouth, your own arms curling around his neck in a vicious hold.

When you least expect it, you feel one hand descend swiftly, leaving you no time to react as he grabs at your ass hard, so hard you jolt up against him, eyes snapping open in shock.

Without moving his hand, he presses his nose to your pulse point, exhales sultry on the sensitive skin.

"I have another idea."

[navybrat817]

Dark and Light

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Word Count: Over 2.65k

Warnings: Threat of dubcon/noncon, minor character death, violence, canon divergent, captivity, brainwashing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: It's been almost 3 years since the last part of Soldat and Sparrow. Are you lovelies still interested? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @silkholland . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The cell they kept you in this time was larger than your last. It didn't make it any less uncomfortable. The thick gray walls surrounding you made the room suffocatingly quiet and hollow. You only knew the color thanks to the singular lightbulb in the center of the ceiling, too high for you to try and make a weapon out of the glass. Without windows, you didn't know it was dark or light outside.

There was no escape, but you couldn't give up hope.

It was maddening not knowing the time of day as you played the waiting game on the worn mattress in between meals and sleeping. The screams of your lover played on a morbid loop in your mind and you had to will yourself to not let tears surface. Other than temporary relief for your emotions and aching heart, crying would do you no good. It never did.

What you needed to do was focus.

The man on the bridge.

He triggered something inside of the Winter Soldier. Something Hydra wanted to keep locked away. But what was it?

Bucky. He called him Bucky. He knew him. But how?

Two hard knocks on the door pushed the thought away before it swung open. Narrowing your eyes as Brock walked in, you wondered if he could’ve been a good man in another life and fought for the people who needed it most the way he pretended to. This wasn’t that life though. He chose his side.

The wrong side.

“You know, I don’t get it,” he said, crossing his arms as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t hide the lust from his eyes as he looked you over. “I mean, the Asset does his job well, but it’s like he forgets all about being a soldier when he’s deep in your pussy.”

“What can I say? I guess my pussy’s just that good,” you sneered, not in the mood for his taunts or anything else.

“Is that right? Maybe he should fuck your ass next to get the stick out of it,” he snapped back. “Or are you too stuck up for that?”

Pierce had a range of prostitutes lined up to satisfy his soldiers, but Brock didn’t hide how pissed off he was that you were “given” to the Asset after that fateful training day. He claimed it was special treatment. He dropped the issue almost as quickly as it was brought up, which led you to believe he was either reprimanded or given something to shut him up.

“Is that what bothers you, Rumlow? That I'd rather fuck him than you?” You asked, tilting your head as you regarded him. “And just so we’re clear, I’ll never want you.”

Brock clenched his fists as he took a step forward. “You really are a fucking-”

“Let her be,” a melodic voice ordered behind him, making you stiffen as he moved out of the way.

The doctor, or Doc as most called him, stepped into the room with a kind smile on his face. Unassuming in stature, you knew better from the start than to judge him by appearance. The man was a snake in the grass ready to spread his venom to unsuspecting victims.

“How are you?” He asked.

You kept your eyes on him as he moved closer, doing your best not to show any emotion. The doctor somehow made you more uncomfortable than Rumlow and that said something. “How do you think I'm doing?”

“Hmm. Not well, I'm sure.”

“You guessed correctly,” you said.

You didn’t know why he bothered asking. Maybe he thought he was better than the others because he didn't physically hurt you. If anything, his indifference to the evil around him made it worse. It told you that he either justified or accepted it.

Either way, he disgusted you.

“Don't worry. You'll have the Soldat back soon and I’m sure you'll feel all better,” he assured you.

“You wiped him,” you reminded him, your voice cracking.

His screams echoed in your mind again, your heart aching as you tried to block it out. When pain knocked on the door, it didn't wait for an answer. It broke it down and made itself at home. But in the pain Hydra inflicted, the soldier found solace with you and you found the same with him. The light for each other within the darkness.

While you failed to protect him and couldn't stop what they did to his mind, you had to believe you’d help heal his soul once you had him back.

“We did indeed as we have many times.”

You knocked his hand away as he tried to place it on your shoulder, your stomach turning from his words. “Don't touch me.”

He held his hands up in surrender as he took a step back. “I mean no harm.”

“All of you mean harm,” you whispered.

The Soldat was your only bright spot in this nightmare. Ironic that he thought you were fire, bright and warm. The truth was you burned because of him. He was your eternal fuel that made the flames grow.

“I only want what is best for you,” Doc argued, his eyes void of any emotional depth behind his rimless glasses.

“Liar,” you whispered.

An exasperated sigh left his lips. “Now, now. I really do want what’s best for you. Don't you realize how important you are?”

“I'm not important,” you said. You never were. “Pierce made it clear that I don't have a purpose.”

But if that was the case, why were you still alive?

The doctor's chuckle made your blood run cold. “That's what he wants you to think. You see, the more they cut you down and make you question your worth, the easier it becomes for you to comply. Because by that point you’re so desperate for survival you'll do what is asked of you,” he explained, pushing his glasses up. “Yet you still only comply to an extent. It’s rather fascinating.”

He stared at you like you were a bug under a magnifying glass. And wasn’t that what you were to him? An experiment or something for him to study? “I haven't complied. I won't.”

“Oh, but you have,” Brock chimed in. You almost forgot he was still in the room. “Those missions you completed. The lives you took.”

Bile rose in your throat as images of violence and blood flashed in your mind. They would haunt you for the rest of your days. “No, I didn't want to hurt anyone.”

“Of course, you didn't. It’s as I said: desperation. You did what you had to do to survive,” the false sympathy from Doc grated on your nerves. “Don't let the weight of those souls wear you down. They were meaningless. But you? Oh, you are meant for more.”

He attempted to touch you again, but his hand moved toward your stomach this time instead of your shoulder. “I said don't touch me!” you snapped, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you. As much as you wanted to hurt him, Brock was still there and could do a lot of damage.

The doctor pressed his lips together before he smirked. “Pierce and Rumlow are right. You have a hold on him. Even with his programming and orders, it all comes back to you,” he said, your body going rigid. Where was he going with this? “And it’s you that we want to carry his child.”

Your stomach churned again, but you weren’t sure if it was more at the thought that he wanted to force a child on you or that he’d try and force your soldier to impregnate you. “Care to repeat that?”

“You’re going to carry his child. You’re going to give birth to the perfect soldier. And you’ll keep doing so,” he said slowly like you were a petulant child, standing tall and proud as your mouth fell open in horror. “You’re the perfect incubator.”

Your stomach sank as you looked between him and Brock, wishing it was a sick joke. “No, I won't.”

“You think you have a choice?” The doctor questioned nonchalantly, like he was asking what you wanted for dinner. “And do you think the Asset needs to remember exactly what you mean to him to fuck you? I guess we'll see if he does. Science versus instinct.”

The room became eerily silent as the doctor gave you his first genuine smile since he walked in. You struggled to get your bearings and process the words. That was why you were still alive. They were going to make you an incubator. Force your soldier to breed you. They would take another choice away from him. And raise your children in captivity.

In Hell on earth.

“Well, that shut the bitch up,” Brock chuckled.

Before you could think, you launched yourself from the bed. The doctor’s eyes widened as you tackled him to the ground, unable to brace himself as you landed the first blow to his face. You straddled his waist, the second hit knocking his glasses away as fury rushed through your veins like a wildfire. He didn’t try to fight you off.

You could’ve cried. Screamed. Anything to keep him from making his twisted plan a reality.

The sound of a gun cocking stopped you from hitting Doc a third time.

“I won’t kill you,” Brock said, your fist frozen in the air as you looked toward him. Your chest heaved as you stared down the barrel of the gun. “But I’ll make it hurt if you don’t get up.”

“Go ahead,” you said through clenched teeth.

The doctor coughed, but held up a hand. “No shooting,” he croaked as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “No harming her.”

Brock’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. “She can still lie down and take a cock if-”

None of you could have foreseen the metal hand punching through the wall. Before you could blink, the hand closed around Brock’s shoulder and pulled him through, his cry of pain silenced almost immediately by the sound of a gunshot. The doctor beneath you was long forgotten as you scrambled to your feet just in time to see your soldier step into the room through the hole, his face obscured by his typical mask and goggles.

But you felt his gaze on you as he stood like a dark angel ready to avenge you.

Hope launched into your chest like a shooting star as you smiled. “Soldat,” you whispered.

He came for you. Found you. But the star that filled your heart quickly faded when he didn’t move toward you or say “Sparrow”.

The dread grew stronger when he holstered his gun and took out his signature knife.

Was this the beginning of the end?

The doctor smiled as he wiped the blood from his lap and slowly stood up. “You really think he’s here to save you? Oh, no. He just doesn’t want any competition near his breeding partner,” he taunted as your eyes stung. “Back from your assignment early, Soldat? Good. Now you can complete your mission.”

The Winter Soldier tilted his head before he took a step forward.

You remained rooted to the spot, casting your fear that he’d force himself on you aside. “Bucky,” you said, using the name you heard. His real name. A tear rolled down your cheek when he flinched and tightened his fingers around the handle. “I’m not going to fight you. Or hurt you. Do you know why?”

Another step forward, your heart pounded as you stood as still as a statue. “Why?” He asked, the word clear to you through his mask.

The tears flowed freely as he stopped in front of you and slipped his goggles off, your heart breaking when he dispassionately looked at you. “Because I’m your Sparrow. Remember? My fire burns for you and you only,” you told him and pointed to your chest. You needed him to remember. “We swore we’d be free together. Somehow.”

“Don’t listen to her. Breed her and be done with it,” the doctor ordered.

The soldier’s brows furrowed before his metal hand came up around your neck, not squeezing or bringing you any harm.

But it felt like a warning.

“You won’t hurt me,” you breathed out, placing your hand on his arm as you kept your panic at bay. “They won’t break me. And I won’t leave you,” you promised, echoing his words when he took you the first time. “I’m yours.”

No matter what they forced him to do to you, he would never be to blame.

The doctor had the gall to smack the flesh arm when he made no move to shove you down on the bed or remove your clothes. “Finish your mission. Now.”

“It’s okay,” you mouthed.

Somehow, it would be okay.

“My mission…” the soldier began mechanically, not taking his eyes off you as he plunged the knife into the doctor’s jugular. You weren’t sure you could breathe. “Is to keep my Sparrow safe.”

An intake of air caught your sob as the metal hand fell away, the doctor collapsing as he tried in vain to stop the blood from leaving his body. It was useless. And a kinder death than he deserved.

“Hail,” he gurgled, his fingers stained red. “Hydra.”

“Just shut up and die,” you snapped as your soldier ripped his mask off. “Soldat,” you said, softer, almost crying all over again.

“Sparrow,” he whispered.

There was nothing gentle or sweet in the way pressed his lips to yours, but it was warm and safe as he pulled you against you. Your arms slipped around him as you returned the kiss, your cheeks still wet from crying. For a second there, you thought you’d lost him. For once, fate decided not to be cruel to you.

It brought you back together.

“I’m sorry I couldn't get to you sooner,” he said when he allowed you a moment to breathe, quickly scanning as much of you as he could. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m okay. I just thought…” you trailed off with a shake of your head. “You came back to me.”

But how?

“I’ll always find you, Sparrow,” he said, touching your cheek as your heart swelled. “Steve helped me remember a lot of things. Including you.”

“The man on the bridge? You saw him again?” You asked before an alarm sounded, the blaring force echoing in the room.

“Yes. And his friend is sending reinforcements, so we need to go,” he said over the noise, nudging the doctor’s body with the toe of his boot before he stepped on his glasses.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

Where could you go since you no longer had a home? You had so many questions, but understood that you’d have to wait for answers. Getting out of there in one piece was your priority.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered, fear flickering in his eyes for a moment. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” you promised without hesitation. And anything else you had to offer him.

The next kiss was one of gentleness, relief, and thanks. “One thing before we leave.”

“What’s that?” You asked as he took your hand.

Love and determination filled his eyes as he glanced back at you and put a gun in your other hand. “We burn it down.”

You could hardly contain the fire inside you as you smiled. “Together.”

You didn’t know what the reinforcements would do or what would await you once you got out. It didn’t matter. Your soldier found his way back to you and you would follow wherever he went. The two of you would finally leave Hydra behind.

In a pile of rubble and ash.

But you’d find out soon enough that the man on the bridge wouldn't let your soldier go either.

I'll try not to let so much time pass before the next update. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[romana-after-dark]

Marc Spector x Sucubus!Reader Ft. Khonshu

Join my taglist : Masterlist

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My submission #1 for Dead Dove December! there is still plenty of time, so I hope I can see at one or more other Oscar isaac Submissions and maybe a logan submission! Also, I love every single of the Pedro submissions, you are all so amazing!!!

Summary: You are a sucubus, and tonight you've come to visit one of your favorite toys, Marc Spector. Tonight, however, you have a visitor...

Warnings: Sucubus reader so reader is DARK! This fic is DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Marc is alseep the entire time so non con somno, Khonshu watches and is grossly possesive over/thinks he owns Marc's body. Dirty talk, general non con themes.

Moon Knight divider by @sister-lucifer

DDDNE dividers by @clawdee

Beta'd by @boredzillenial

1.3k words

A/N: This is my first writing Marc Spector in almost a year I think! Moon Knight for longer than that! I'm happy to see my baby again <3

He was really fucking pretty. 

Maybe that’s why he was your favorite, maybe that’s why you came back to him again and again.

Marc Spector was your favorite to be sure, a young man still youthful, maybe around 25, and you’d been visiting him for maybe 2 years now. He was handsome, an absolute cutie with dark curls, tan skin and strong build. Even in his youth, he was built thickly, even if a bit short. Standing at 5’8. He wasn’t much shorter than global average, but he was definitely average height for Latino and Sephardic men. 

But his cock… god, that’s one of his biggest draws. Sure the rest was fantastic; Marc was absolutely flawless, a sleeping beauty below you, but it was his cock stuffed inside you that brought you to ecstasy. The 9 inches was delightful, reaching deep inside your core so well you could feel him kiss your cervix at the right angle. But god, the thickness… the way he split you open, the way you felt so full as you sank down on his length, crammed up inside you as you cum hard around him, Marc’s eyes fluttering when he came inside you but never awakening.

Tonight was a little different, however. Tonight you had company.

Naked and dripping for him already, you grind your naked cunt over Marc’s grey sweat, getting him hard and aching. You could see his breathing increase with the rise and fall of his chest laid bare like he knew you were coming. Like he was whoring himself out for you, and you alone. But you weren’t alone, were you?

“Come to watch, have you?” You speak, not looking away from Marc’s slightly parted lips, but speaking to the being in the corner.

“I wasn’t aware you could see me, little one.” 

You chuckle. You knew who he was, but he didn’t know you. Of course not. Succubi, while somewhat rare, were not unheard of and there was no reason for him to know you.

But you knew who he was.

“I can see all the Gods and beings of our realm, Khonshu” You smile as you turn to the man in his skeleton-bird form, grinding down hard on Marc’s bulge and humming in contentment.

He makes no sound, simply nodding. “And you’re a succubus, I am?”

“I am. This here,” You pat Marc’s chest. “Is my favorite toy. The question is, why are you here? Just came to watch? I won’t object.” You give him a teasing smirk, but see nothing in return.

“I am the owner of this body.”

Your eyebrows quirk up in surprise as you continue to dry hump Marc’s sleeping form. Was he mad you were using ‘his’ body? “Oh?”

“And I come to summon him, only to find a stranger using my avatar.”

Ah, an avatar. No wonder Marc was so lean, so muscled and strong. “And were you summoning him to use him like I am?”

He chuckles. “Hardly, although I can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind. No, Marc is my knight. It seems you also have plans for him.”

“Ohhhh yesss, I do.” You’re approaching an orgasm, and you haven’t even taken out his cock yet. “So many plans… Khonshu… the question is, are you going to let me use your little toy?”

Khonshu cocks his head to the side. “Only if I get to watch.”

5 minutes later, Marc’s cock was drilling your insides as you bounced on him, hands planted firmly on his chest with Khonshu watching you. He remains clothed, rubbing himself slowly underneath his crisp pressed pants (he changed from his robes for the occasion, into a nice suit.). 

“How’s the view?” You tease him, your cunt leaking from your first orgasm all around Marc's supple hips.

“Simply sublime.” Khonshu’s voice booms through the room.

“Me?” Leaning down, you kiss into Marc’s neck, taking a nibble before side-eyeing back to Khonshu in the corner. “Or him?”

“Both”

Marc lightly snored, and you look over to watch the sweet man’s nostrils flare, so unaware of what is happening, so unaware he’s being used a sex doll for one, and porn for another.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” You’re pussy clenches around Marc’s cock as you bounce, enthralled by the inherent eroticism of it all, the treatment of Marc’s body as a thing to be rented out. You run your hands over his chest, feeling his warmth, his sweat, his tensing, aching body responding to you like the goodest good boy you’ve ever had the pleasure of defiling. “He feels so goddamn good, Khonshu.”

“How deep is he inside you?” He asks, still lazily leaning back but the touches over his clothed cock taking on a speedier edge. 

“You can feel for yourself.”

Khonshu reiterates, his voice much firmer now. “How deep, little one?”

You place your hand on your stomach, right where you can feel him piercing your womb. “He’s so deep…” you whine, drenching Marc’s thighs with your slick. He deserved this, deserved to have his fat cock drained, balls emptied inside a beautiful woman. Too bad Marc would never be awake to see it.

But Khonshu is, and isn’t that the next best thing? The owner of the body, watching and getting off to his varlet being abused in his sleep. Well, you wouldn’t exactly call it abuse… Marc sure seemed to be enjoying it.

Little whimpers leave his lips, and when you reach back behind yourself, you can feel his balls tightening.

“He’s about to cum, Khonshu…” You bounce on him with renewed fervor, your stomach flipping at the thought of being filled again by his hot, sticky warmth. Fuck, he was splitting you open, your body impailed on the young man as his length is fed inside you. “Are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum inside me?”

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” His voice was breathy, breaking down just a little, losing a modicum of self control. “Let me cum inside, let my vessel fill your womb with my seed.”

“FUCK!” Your orgasm is crashing, screaming, clawing and kicking out of you, your body shaking with delight and milking out Marc’s as he fills you up. Rope after rope, your fluids mix in an unholy matrimony, cum trickling down his legs as your cum overflows to stain his sheets. You can’t even lament what was lost, the virile young man continuing to claim you with his cum, with Khonshu's cum, and you can feel it where his cut tip kisses your womb. 

And fuck, he looks so pretty like this.

His body, tight and lightly muscled, is tense, his mouth lightly parted as little moans escape his lips. His tits flex with the intensity, eyebrows knitted together as the final spurts fill your stomach, causing you to bulge. You’ve never felt him cum like this before, and you suspect the extra seed was Khonshu’s doing. As Marc’s hips stutter a final time, he sighs a little out of his lips, a name, not yours, whispered on his tongue.

“Layla…”

You don’t want to move. On top of Marc’s now-relaxed body, you enjoy feeling him so calm, so rested, so beautiful, even if he was thinking of some woman.

“He met a girl.” Khonshu stands. Any mess he made is gone, but you can tell by the light panting that the skeleton bird had cum too. “Kill her father a few years ago. She doesn’t know that yet, but it seems they’ve begun an affair of sorts. Doesn’t matter.” Khonshu says with resolve. “That will fall apart too, just like everything else in his life. He’ll soon learn I’m all he needs.”

You huff a laugh. Khonshu’s self importance was well known in the shadow realm, but this was none of your business. You were off to carry out your night, ready to knock some girl up with Marc’s cum. You give the young man a little kiss on the cheek.

“Until next time, Spector.”

Thank you so so so so much for reading!

I really hope you all enjoyed it, I wanted to explore Khonshu's possesive feelings towards the body. I explored this a little in Your Very Being which is Jake x khonshu and i feel takes place after this.

Again, thank you!

@steven-grants-world @del-ightfulling @iolaussharpe-24 @just-a-lovebot @madamerubrum @speaktothehandpeasants @and-claudia @autofillcontact675 @yeaiamme2 @miraclesabound @sub-aro @campingwiththecharmings @ivystoryweaver

[tiramissyoucake]

Not super descriptive, im afraid, but I enjoyed your last Gdorf fic and was hoping to request another :3 with gender neutral pronouns and terms if that's alright🙏

Something along the lines of him making you ride him/grind against his knee while he sits on the throne, with some good old-fashioned degradation, along with throwing in some praise here and there. Most ideally, OOT or TP Ganondorf in mind! But that's all up to you, I'm not picky.

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI, reader is his loyal attendant here- pre-marriage even? GN so very vague genitalia description. 1k words semi proof read.

CW: NSFW, thigh-riding, use of 'slut', 'whore' Ganondorf being mean but he still loves reader, reader doesnt get to nut yet.

notes: finally.. an excuse to write more for him, thanks for ur request !! he has muscular thighs in all versions so technically all versions work. this is called thigh-riding, right? for some reason it doesn't do it for me but anything Ganondorf related is good. NEW DIVIDER DEBUT tell me how ya'll like it.

Your job was simple, answer when called and obey commands. Ganondorf was a no-nonsense man, so you ensured everything was perfect, your appearance, your work, your posture and speech.

Today was quiet, Ganondorf called for you from the throne room. Your steps were consistently quick- urgently responding to his call while keeping a dignified image. You automatically lowered your head reaching him, he stood near the throne, approaching you, a smile stretching across his strong features; your obedience was always a welcome sight.

“Raise your head, my loyal attendant.” His voice was carried across the room, you followed his order, looking at your king as your hands subtly smoothed down your uniform, the one he insisted you wear.

“I apologize for making you wait, my king. I was tending to the archives.” You explained as smoothly as you could, his eyes followed your every movement, it always made a shiver shoot up your spine. (one you learned to suppress)

“Do you tire of these journeys?” He started, velvet voice coaxing you to drop the formalities for a moment, you always had to look up when talking to him; though you assumed anyone would if they weren’t a tall specimen of the Goron or Zora.

Your confused glance made him continue. “You have many tasks to complete in my palace, you’re only close to me when it’s my chambers or this very throne room.” He settled down onto his rightful throne, one hand clutching the armrest while the other propped his head up to look at you properly. “We should assign you a seat here, shouldn’t we?”

Your first answer was no, where would it go? Next to the throne? That was a position for someone like the king’s spouse; you were just an attendant. He did not wait for an answer and simply patted his thigh. “Come here.”

He anticipated your hesitance, you stood in front of him, and he maneuvered you easily in his hands to sit on his muscular thigh, the sudden movement almost caused you to fall completely on him. Your hand firmly rested on his shoulder and bicep. it was… shockingly comfortable. Most of his armor was focused on his chest so his legs were mostly just clothed.

“Relax, when have I ever harmed you?” Ganondorf carefully tugged you closer, feeling how snug you were against him he couldn’t help a chuckle from emanating, the closeness made you blush. “Do I strike fear into your heart, my little attendant?”

He didn’t mind your secure grasp on him as he tugged you closer, the movement and pressure making you gasp before you could answer, his height, his size, everything overwhelmed you as he gently moved you back and forth. His voice lowered as he leaned closer to you. “Isn’t this what you deserve? The perfect seat for my one and only obedient attendant...” his tone was oddly sweet, the low volume making his voice carry more vibration and gruffness than it already did.

Your lips were parted, you knew you’d be a fool to object to your king’s affections, but should you be seen like this? In such a debauched way in front of the man you devoted your existence to? “But... someone might see us- sir...!”

Ganondorf laughed, deep and rich as he held your hips firmly, he could feel you begin to struggle against his planted hands holding you in place, he knew you wouldn’t disappoint him. “No one would step foot in here unless I command it.”

That assured you a bit, but he pressed on. “Do you think me cruel enough to let you be seen in such a manner? By anyone except me? flushed and panting on my thigh like a shameless slut…” you knew he was possessive, but never over you. you could barely focus over the building pleasure between your legs, you mentally curse the underlayer of your uniform, the cloth clung to your skin and yet you could feel everything and it was hard to keep your composure in your king's hands like this.

You glanced at him pleadingly, he cooed at you almost mockingly as his hands loosened, allowing you to set your own pace. “… should I let you be seen like this?” You had to look away, the idea was shameful, but you felt even more guilt at the arousal pooling within.

“Perhaps I should place you on my thigh like this when I work? I’d enjoy looking at a writhing little slut like you as I finish my tasks…” he chuckled darkly as you moved your hips less subtly now, hands clinging to whatever fabric peeked out from beneath his armor.

“P-please, my king…” you whimpered, it was pathetically amusing yet arousing, Ganondorf held your jaw in his hand and forced you to look up at him, your hip movements slowed but hadn’t stopped, you couldn’t stop, not when the pressure of his thigh was against all the right places, pressing your buttons and getting you so close but it wasn’t enough; you needed him to touch you.

“Please what? You have the gall to make demands to your king? When you’re humping my thigh like a needy whore?” his hand clutched your hip tightly as he sat up, the pressure forcing a choked moan out of you as your grip fastened onto him for stability. “What’s the matter? Is this too much for you?”

He moved you harshly once more, the friction shooting at your senses so quickly you couldn’t reply unless it was a lewd request for him to ruin you. he laughed, kissing your neck, it would have been a sweet gesture had it not been for his hands guiding your frantic riding back and forth.

You were always so obedient, always sacrificing anything for his pleasure and approval, seeing you chase your release so greedily. It was a sight to behold; you were always the quiet little attendant, seeing this side of you only made his desire for you triple, he could barely hold himself back.

He stopped you by grounding you down onto him, enough to stop you but not enough to hurt you. He sat up properly once more, leaning down to speak into your ear. “Enough. you’ve shown me just how much of a good attendant you can be…”

Disappointment and guilt racked your being, was this some sort of test that you failed? Had you disappointed him? Your questions were stopped as he manhandled you once more, carefully he picked you up and stood, his bulking strength made you feel like your weight was nothing as you were fitted snugly in his arms. “I was serious, you know; I won’t let you be seen like this by anyone but me... Now, be quiet until we reach my chambers.”

[jordosprout]

Hello! I have a fic idea where the reader has a sensory meltdown and even though the others try to help they don't really know what to do but then Tech comes in with all the know-how on how to approach/help.

Maybe it could be taking place during the race Tech did and the reader gets overwhelmed by the sound and the heat and anxiety and Tech comes in for the rescue after the race ends, or maybe on a mission and Hunter asks Tech to take you aside/back to the marauder and tells him that they have it handled.

I think it'd be cool if Tech silently brought out sensory items and waited patiently with you and then opens up about how he has the same issue but maybe he usually shuts down instead or has a meltdown alone. Sorry I had a few ideas I wanted to share, hope this ask isn't too overwhelming! <3

Alright, took me awhile but I finished your request! I ended up going with the race plot :) I apologize for the wait. I wanted to do my best to portray everything correctly.

Sprouting Within the Soul

Tech x GN!Reader SFW Comfort Fic (gender-neutral pronouns used, little physical description.) (Can be read as platonic)

Reader is a phytotoxin specialist and becomes a clone medic. Story takes place on Safa Toma where Tech comforts them during an autistic meltdown.

Warnings: Talk of overstimulation, stimming, meltdowns, and gentle praise.

Notes: Phytotoxin- plant poison. I'm still getting used to Tumblr so no fancy dividers yet :,) I am working on making some for personal use

WC: 3,955

Setting up readers' story, skip if wanted!

__

You didn’t enjoy medicine as much as you did vegetation. But the two interests mixed into a love for phytotoxin, and you found yourself as a specialist clone medic 2 months before you fled with Omega; working alongside her during that time. You grew deeply attached to the special little clone; knowing nothing could separate you.

She told you everything she could about the Clone Force 99; from their names all the way to their genetic mutations. And during one of those one-sided conversations, she told you about the inhibitor chips. This is what sparked your questions about the clones true purpose.

Your interactions with the boys themselves were brief. However, that would suddenly change.

Omega told you that she felt that Kamino was in danger, and you believed her immediately. It didn’t matter what it was that made her feel that way. You trusted Omega, and the thought of not knowing if she was safe scared you. You accompanied her, and her brothers, off-world; not a second guess in your mind.

Leaving the life you came accustomed to was hard. Especially when you were being so abruptly transitioned to a chaotic one. But the others, especially her brother Tech, did their best to ease you into the new life.

__

With Hunter and Echo being off on their own mission, it was just you Wrecker, Omega, and Tech today. A day you'd absorb every calm second you were given.

You were sitting beside Tech at the bar, him looking into poisonous plants for you.

You noticed that when he found out about your love for the subject, he took it personally. He took every moment he could to talk to you about the various flora of the universe. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to share something you already knew. But that never mattered or annoyed you. You were just happy someone took part in your interests. Sometimes, he would tell you something that you surprisingly knew nothing of. Others, he would mention something you knew plenty about and you’d talk to him about it for hours.

It felt good having someone to talk to (or at) that clearly enjoyed it.

Just as he would offer you his ear, you would offer him yours. Always listening and enjoying whatever facts he had on his current interests. His passion for the things he knew made them all the more interesting. His voice and excitement would never get old to you.

Even though you felt seen by Tech, you still had moments of worrying you said something wrong. He never gave you a reason to think that you may have offended him, but you couldn’t help the anxiety. So you would often overexplain your intentions. He allowed you to say what you felt you needed to in order clear your intentions, and would then follow up in calm reassurance. He was always a source of calm patient energy, something you never got enough of.

But your day was swiftly stolen by a green Trandoshen. Cid, of course, had a last-minute mission for the four of you. You huffed to yourself, you just got comfortable watching Omega and Wrecker’s Mantell-Mix bet!

You were tracing circles with your finger on the countertop; cheek resting on its cool surface. Omega and Wrecker were playing Dejarik. Hearing them laugh and get competitive with each other made you smile.

“Hey I heard that! Don't get sassy with me Bacta Bunny. I have a mission for you and you're taking it!” 

You scowled at the nickname, your reaction being noticed only by Omega, who looked at you briefly before looking at Cid. You found the nickname demeaning- as if all you were was the occasional medic the batch needed.

“Hunter and Echo aren't back from the other mission yet.” Omega told Cid, confused as to why they would do something without them.

“I would not call transporting 50 cases of nerf nuggets a ‘mission’. Nor is it a proper use of our skill set,” Tech added to Omega’s statement.

You rested your head into the palm of your hand, leaning into it, “Tech isn't wrong Cid. You're wasting what ya’ got. There are better uses of our skill y’know.”

“Yeah, well, your skill set will come in real useful on this one. Especially you, Muscles. You're gonna be my security crew.”

Your head lifted at that, “Hey now security for what? What did you do that requires security?”

Tech nodded in agreement, “We will require a more detailed briefing than that.”

“No time. The shuttle's waiting.” Cid dodged, already at the door. You disliked how secretive Cid was. Why couldn't she just tell you what you needed to know?

Wrecker tossed Omega her little helmet, and of course, Omega gave you all her usual wishful thinking.

“Maybe it'll be fun.”

“Heh, works for me.”

“Wrecker, you're saying that as if you're difficult to convince,” you bantered teasingly, you loved the big guy but you weren't wrong. He was easy to convince. He just grinned and gave you a mix of a laugh and grunt before following Omega.

You sat for a moment, wishing you could easily adapt the same way Wrecker and Omega did. But you couldn't help but feel anxious with the sudden change to your schedule.

Tech sighed and you gave him a small pat on the shoulder before jumping off your barstool.

It shouldn't be all that bad, should it?

__

As soon as your shuttle landed, you were met with muffled crowds and people. 

‘Just a little noise. I can handle this’

“I am beginning to understand the need for added security in a place like this.” Tech mentioned to the group, taking in the nature of the people around him.

“Safa Toma can be a little rough around the edges if you don't know what you're doing. But lucky for us I know my way around. And if things get dicey, that's where you come in.”

You looked at the back of Omega’s head once Cid said that last sentence. You weren't particularly fond of how much danger she was constantly in. Yes, she's a clone like her brothers. And clones were indeed made to fight. But she's only a kid and is already dealing with so much. You placed your left hand on her right shoulder, and she gave you two pats in response. Something she always did to let you know she'd be fine.

But once you exited the building, and were blasted with Safa Toma’s boiling sun and restless crowds, you felt like you were the one who might not be fine. You took a deep breath to ground yourself, but the air dried out your nose making you more uncomfortable. 

‘This shouldn't be a long mission. It's just security.’

The cheering got louder as you became surrounded by people, constantly getting bumped into. The machines on what appeared to be a race track flashed by directly in front of you, any loose hair you had whipped in the direction they flew towards; tickling your skin.

You stayed behind Omega and held your hands together, rubbing the flesh between your left hand’s pointer and thumb to soothe yourself.

“Whoa!” Omega was leaning on the rail, trying to take in everything happening on the track.

“It's called Riot Racing.” Cid said, clearly only talking to Omega.

One of the racers began shooting at an opponent ahead of it, resulting in the victim crashing into one of the walls. 

“Wow! Did you see that?” Wrecker excitedly asked Omega. You glanced at Tech whose eyes were wide behind his goggles.

‘Well if Omega didn't Tech definitely did.’

“It appears anything goes out there.” 

The PA system announcer began narrating the scene in front of all of you. Declaring the steal of the lead, that was apparently carried out by Cid’s racer.

__

You blindly followed Cid and the others after TAY-0’s win, falling slightly behind. You fixated on your hands, attempting to tune out the obnoxious droid in front of you. Any other day his quips would pull a small laugh from you. But the sun felt like it was getting hotter, and the crowd seemed louder and fuller. You didn't understand how Omega was handling it so well, she didn't have the climate-controlled armor her brothers did. 

‘If Omega can handle it then why can't I?’

“Your ringer is a droid?” Tech queried Cid, getting what would barely count as a real answer from the droid instead. 

“Oh, I'm so sorry. You have a problem with droids, human? You think you can make the split-second calculation to win out there? You want to challenge TAY-0?” the droid asked, defensively getting up in Tech's face. And of course, Tech gave little to no physical reaction.

“I do not have enough information about this sport to determine that at this time.” 

“Then take a seat, spectacled spectator.”

Okay, you held in a snort with that one. That was really clever.

Wrecker on the other hand was quite upfront with his reaction, repeating TAY-0 and bumping Tech. 

__

You sat against a wall as repairs were made to the droid's speeder. You chose to ignore what was going on for the time being. You weren't needed at the moment, so you should take advantage of that. You closed your eyes and pressed into the wall, trying to grasp all the peace you were given.

Which wasn't much apparently.

A large man found his way into the pit, three smaller men behind him. You stood after he greeted Cid, his tone making you realize he was the reason she needed security. And when he approached Omega you quickly made your way behind her next to Wrecker; all of your hands making their way to your designated blasters. 

“Not gonna introduce me to your new crew?”

‘Why’s that matter to him?’

He gave a hearty laugh, “They're not gonna help you win.”

Cid stood up to Millegi, looking much shorter than she already did in front of him. 

“Oh, I know I'm gonna win.”

After a few seconds of intimidation from Millegi, he offered a bet. It was frustrating how quickly Cid agreed. Of course, she'd take any chance she could to make some credits.

You spaced out for a moment before Cid insisted on hurrying up with the minor repairs. She was going to be much pushier now that credits were on the line. 

__

You paced behind the others, feeling restless now being back at the track. You looked up only for a moment when Wrecker returned, then back to the ground. You could feel your patience for today running low. You were rather surprised to hear Tech say he didn't know who'd win. But you knew he'd figure it out eventually, he always does.

But when TAY-0 took damage, and Millegi’s racer won the round, you knew Millegi wouldn't be far.

So you rushed to help collect the pieces of TAY-0 from the track and held your guard for when he'd eventually show up. 

And he did, of course, with Cid not having any credits to give him.

“Wanna step in here? I didn't bring you three for the company.” 

And with your cue, you put on your helmet and hovered a hand over your blaster. Millegi's men were quick to point their own at you. Of course, Omega spoke up, “Wait how much does she owe?” 

“More than you got, kid.”

“Well,” she paused for a moment, “we're not done yet.”

“Omega…” you whispered, “Don't. Stand down.”

“That's right. Looks like you're done to me.” 

“One last race. If you win, we pay you double.” 

You groaned into your helmet and shared looks between Tech and Wrecker. This could either go really well or really bad.

“If we win, we get Cid.”

“You don't know what you're getting into, kid.”

You followed in suit with the boys, Tech speaking up first, “I'm inclined to agree with him, Omega.”

“Yeah, I'm inclined too. We don't know anything about racing” Wrecker added, not at all slick about the confession.

“Omega this can very easily end very badly.” You told her worriedly

“They're gonna hurt Cid if we do nothing.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose. Omega was not one to lose determination. And you all knew that. You crossed your arms and stood behind her. If this is what she really wants to do, then you'll just have to stand with her.

“So we have a deal?”

“We race tomorrow. And I keep Cid as collateral.”

As his men collected Cid, Millegi gave a warning, “For your sakes, you better be able to pay up.”

You looked down at Omega, “I suppose that went well?”

__

After Omega spent some time on the speeder, you offered to take her place to get a break. She nodded and jumped down from the table, you taking her place. 

“Do we really need to fix him right away? He isn't exactly pleasant company,” you joked slightly.

“Well, he is already partially operational. So it is a bit late now. Speaking of, with a few more adjustments, he may be capable of racing.”

TAY-0 was basically summoned by your conversation, “Uh, that is hilarious. I am more than capable. I am ready to– Where are my arms and legs!?” You laughed to yourself and looked up to finish the repairs that were left on the speeder. TAY-0 was entertaining, but he's also just… a lot.

Wrecker came into the pit and dropped off the rest of TAY-0's parts.

“No, that's not how you connect the servo. Let TAY-0 instruct you how to do this properly.”

You grinned at Tech’s response. What can you say? You enjoyed his sass.

__

Nightfall came, and Safa Toma was finally quieter and cooler. But you still felt uneasy. All day has been dealing with people and TAY-0, and now you have to sleep in the pit. You tossed in your sleeping bag, Wrecker and Omega already sleeping beside each other. You covered your eyes with your forearm, hoping the pressure would help you sleep. 

You lifted it though when you heard rustling beside you. 

“Hey Tech, finished working on TAY-0?”

“Yes, he is fully operational for tomorrow's race.”

You nodded and yawned before turning on your side. The ground was hard and the sleeping bag didn’t help as much as it should.

“Problem?” Tech asked, now behind you.

“Oh, no Tech I’m alright. Just been a long day and I didn’t realize how long we would be here for. But I’m alright.”

He shuffled, likely laying down himself. You knew he could sleep just about anywhere, and honestly, it’s a skill you were a bit jealous of.

“I understand. I am not a fan of sudden plans myself, let alone ones with little explanation. I may be used to dealing with them, but they are still difficult.”

You smiled to yourself. “I’m sure we won’t be here too long.”

“Hopefully not”

__

You wished Cid would have prepared you for where you would be in some way. It felt like you were being cooked underneath your gear and it was miserable. Even when you stayed behind in the pit, there was still all of the noise and the fact you were somewhere completely new with no way to get away.

Two days in a row of dry heat. Two days of screaming. Two days of an obnoxious amount of people and tense interactions. And it was getting to you. Normally it wouldn’t bother you, or at the very least if it did you’d be able to get away from everything. But not being able to escape made it feel like you were suffocating. And as Omega and Wrecker cheered along with the crowd, you slipped away to find quiet.

It proved to be a harder task than you thought it would be, that in itself made you feel worse. But after struggling to find a place to rest, you gave up and decided a place with no people would be enough. You couldn’t help tearing off your helmet and gear, slamming it to the ground as you took your frustrations out on it. You slumped against the first sturdy object you found. The shade was minimal, but it was there. At least you were alone.

After a few minutes, you faintly heard Tech’s name being chanted. And after 5 more standard minutes went by, your comlink beeped. You ignored it, only for it to beep again. And when it did, you tore it off and threw it as far as you could. You couldn’t stand the noise. Or any noise at this point of your mental state.

You covered your ears and held your eyes shut, blocking out as much as you could.

__

Tech was surprised when he exited his speeder and you weren’t with Wrecker or Omega. And when he asked about your whereabouts, they were surprised too, worrying him even more.

“They were behind me!” Worry and defensiveness laced Wrecker’s tone. They both knew that Safa Toma wasn’t a safe planet for someone to go off by themselves. And after Tech commed you twice with no response, he was definitely certain something wasn’t right.

“I will be back, I am going to track the com signal and check in.”

“I wanna come too!” Omega pleaded with Tech, but he shook his head.

“Negative. We do not know the situation. If assistance is required, then you will be notified.”

Omega didn’t like the idea of not going with, but listened anyway. Wrecker keeping her occupied until Cid and Millegi showed up.

Following your com signal, he eventually found you. He was relieved to see you were safe.

“Ah there you are.” You didn’t respond. At first Tech thought you just didn’t hear him, so he tried again.

“Problem?”

You said nothing, instead shifting where you sat. He said it again. But again, there was nothing. He approached.

He saw all of your gear strewn about on the ground around you. Then took a moment to study your body language. Your hands were over your ears, and your eyes were tightly shut. You made yourself small where you sat.

‘Oh’

He looked around to try and see what he could do to change your surroundings, but when he couldn’t find anything he chose to sit beside you. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, moisture at their corners as you snapped your fingers. Your body couldn’t decide between refusing stimuli or letting it out. He remembered the one-time use earplugs he kept on him for Hunter (or for himself), taking them out of a pocket and placing them next to you. 

“Here,” he said softly, only saying what was necessary.

You grabbed them and placed them in your ears, taking in a shaky breath. You brought your knees to your face and pressed them into your eyes. Your hands were free to move about however they needed to. 

He chose that simply offering his presence until you expressed you needed him would be best. He knew that sometimes interacting with others during a meltdown was hard. At least, it was for him. He grabbed his data pad from one of his many pockets to occupy himself while he gave you time. He would be there when you were ready, no matter how long that might be. It would be a few minutes before you said anything or acknowledged him in any way.

“Did you win?”

He looked up at you, your cheek resting on your knee as you looked in the opposite direction of Tech. Your sudden break of silence caught him off guard.

“Of course, was there any doubt?” He asked back. You shook your head no and smiled to yourself before frowning again.

“Can you hug me?” you asked him quietly. He hummed in confirmation before lifting the arm closest to you. Turning around and seeing his arm open for you, you leaned into his side. He squeezed you gently, giving you the pressure you needed in that moment. 

You sat together, Tech finding his own comfort from the stress of the past two days with you. He rubbed your arm with his thumb before finding a strand of your hair to twist in his fingers. Breaking the silence when he felt you were ready.

“Why did you not say you were overstimulated?”

You rubbed the flesh between your thumb and finger, “I… I don’t know. I was embarrassed. Everyone else seemed fine and I was- am frustrated that I’m not. It bothers me.”

He looked down at you quizzically, “Why would you be embarrassed? It is completely normal to have different needs. Even clones are different from each other, in one way or another. It is expected.” He told you.

“I know that but it doesn’t feel like the kind of ‘different’ that just makes someone unique I guess. I feel weak, but I know I need to be strong for everybody.”

Tech was quiet for a moment to figure out the right thing to say. He knows how you’re feeling. He’s felt the same way. He took in a deep breath before he spoke, “Being autistic does not make you weak. The way you receive and process information in your brain is different. It is okay to allow yourself time for it to do that. I promise, it is okay to have these needs. I have them too.”

“You do?”

“I do. While I do not have meltdowns often, I frequently have shutdowns. That does not make me a less efficient soldier. Genetically modifying me to be autistic was not an accident. There are desirable traits in autistic people. For example, I have exceptional attention to detail. I have a strong memory that allows me to retain important information. I am loyal. Of course there is more. But I do not wish to come across as egotistical.”

You sat there with Tech’s words. You never thought about the fact that, perhaps, nothing was wrong with you. Just different. You looked up, looking just past Tech’s eyes but flicking to them slightly before asking, “What is there that is good about me?”

He quirked his usual half-smile and looked up into the sky, “For starters, you are empathetic, more so than some. While I am sure this may be difficult for you at times, it allows you to be more compassionate. You are honest and direct, making your transition into our force easier as you are too honest to be distrusted. You are passionate and determined. No matter how many times you fall, you get up and try a new approach. You are not only passionate with things, but with people. You have spent much time learning what our crew members like and dislike, and act accordingly. You are deeply passionate in your relationships and I admire that about you. I could continue if you would like.”

You shook your head, cheeks slightly warm at the praise you asked for.

You found yourself leaning deeper into Tech and he welcomed you. You loved that you were able to find comfort in the exceptional clone beside you. It felt good not having to be alone, and being not only understood but accepted. His armor cooled you but his presence warmed you to your core.

“Thank you Tech I-...I think I’m ready to go now.” You told him shifting away slightly to prep yourself to get up. He nodded and stood, offering a hand to help you to your feet. You smiled up at him softly, feeling something in your soul sprouting in his light.

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.4 (Lewisia) a2d2

[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: 1,558

TO THE UNAWARE: THIS IS A PROGRESS UPDATE OF A CHAPTER NOT REMOTELY CLOSE TO DONE! PLEASE DON'T EXPECT A FULL OR POLISHED PRODUCT HERE

Notes: I told y'all that I was being lazy. We gotta play catch up now :c This is... roughly 1/3 of Ch.4? maybe more? I'm hoping to have them have a decent conversation but that's beyond me sometimes ^^;;

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, Flashback (yelling), pls lmk if this needs smthn more specific

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

Masterlist <3 | Main Part (Unfinished </3)

The next morning marks a return to routine.

You roll out of bed half awake, sleep-mused and ready for murder. Your mood isn’t improved by the way you’d gone to bed - still in your work clothes with day-after mascara gluing your eyelids together.

A quick stop by the restroom to strip and scrub your face is a necessity, or you’re liable to just crawl back into bed and exist there. You brush your teeth while you’re there, doing your best to ignore grey streaks down your cheeks where your eyeliner hadn’t been as water-proof as advertised.

You don’t even know why you’d cried. After all, it’s not like you were the one rejected by your soulmate for no reason.

You do your best to shake off the maudlin feeling of the morning and lumber your way into the kitchen. You spy your twenty on the counter where you’d left it. You press your lips together to stop the bottom one from trembling and open the fridge. There’s a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast inside.

Taylor, freak of nature that he is, has been up for hours already, you know. He’d probably been up and out the door before the run had even thought about rising. Weirdo.

your roommate is well aware of how non-functional you can be in the morning, so it’s not unusual of him to leave you leftovers when he makes breakfast. The little note on top isn’t new either, usually a reminder, grocery list, or a little encouragement for your day. The whole thing makes you smile, usually.

Today that little note makes your eyes prick with a new wave of tears.

‘Give yourself a chance. Bet’s still on <3’

You very deliberately do NOT cry, though it’s a near thing. You’d done enough crying last night. But if you sniffle a bit into your eggs, well. That’s for you to know, isn’t it?

It’s a Tuesday, so after breakfast you drag yourself back to your room to throw on your largest, rattiest, t-shirt and a pair of leggings to head to the gym.

You can’t help your eyes from catching on the newly-bloomed marks on your skin when you strip away your sleepwear, and you realize that you hadn’t had the opportunity to study your mark in days. Things have been... hectic, to say the least.

In the name of returning to your baseline, you figure you can’t ignore this part of your routine either.

You amble over to your closet, swinging open the door to reveal the full-length mirror hanging on the other side. You don’t bother with your usual rounds of self-depreciation or daily affirmations. Instead, you find your eyes glued to droopy purple petals and blankets of white stars across your abdomen.

The names of the flowers come to mind with ease as you trace gentle fingers over echoes of delicate petals. ‘Bellflowers’ You recite to yourself, drawing your finger up thin stalks and back down dipped heads. ‘Edelweiss’ you muse, lightly tapping each fuzzy white star.

The knowledge comes easily to you, not from any cosmic force, but because of course it does. Your sister hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that asking a person’s favorite flower had been basically an obsession of yours.

The habit had started well before you’d gotten your mark. Before you’d even properly known what soulmates were, really.

Gardening with your mother had started as a way for her to drag you out of the house to get some sun while keeping an easy eye on you. Before your sister was born you’d spent many a joyous afternoon learning to work the soil beside your mother.

After the advent of your favorite gremlin, you’d spent those afternoons tending to the family garden alone. You remember being grateful to the newborn back then. Those solitary afternoons were some of the most peaceful in your memory.

At some point the ‘family garden’ had become more ‘your garden’. Your mother wouldn’t even bother to plan it out with you by your sister’s toddler years. She’d drive you to the store, hand you a bit of cash, and leave it all in your tiny hands.

You’d spend hours researching the best ways to nurture your plants. How to have them thriving more brightly, more beautifully, for longer. If you weren’t in the garden you were in the library by your house, nose buried in a gardening book.

You vividly remember the day it all went wrong.

It hadn’t even been that dramatic, as you recall. At least, not in terms of your parent’s usual fights. It was heartbreak- despair- that marked the day, instead of fear.

You’d been digging up weeds, clawing up deep roots with your gloved hands and a trowel, when your father had come storming outside. You don’t even remember what he’d said. Something about you always taking your mother’s side because of your shared hobby, you think.

Never mind that the woman hadn’t put so much as a toenail to the dirt since your sister had been born.

He hadn’t let up for quite a while, if memory serves. Stood there yelling at you in your safe space for close to an hour. Maybe two, but your child-brain couldn’t be trusted with the time. It might have just been minutes, now that you think about it.

Nonetheless he’d yelled and yelled and yelled. He hadn’t trampled on or broken anything, hadn’t even made sense. And yet, when he’d finally left, everything was different.

The blooms you’d worked so hard to nurture were no longer beautiful, and the soil you’d once called home was no longer safe.

You hadn’t tended another garden after that season. You’d seen your plants to winter, and you’d let go. You’d turn away from the sun and soil and leaned into your books and silly questions to fill the hole left behind.

You’re sure you left claw marks in the dirt.

Something like a gentle humming fills your soul, and you notice how tightly you're clutching the garden around your waist. You gingerly pry your hands away and study the crescent moons you’ve left behind, soft skin indented where petals should have ripped.

You wonder if you’ll leave claw-marks in this garden too.

You tear your eyes away from the mirror, ignoring the gentle tingling up your side where your fingers had dug in. You quickly toss on a camisole, forgoing your usual privacy wraps, and your t-shirt over that.

There was nothing for emptying your mind quite like running yourself into the ground at the gym. With full awareness that you’re going to regret your gym session later, you flee your apartment.

Maybe jogging all the way to gym wasn’t such a great idea. It’d sounded fantastic at the time, a head start on your cardio and a way to remove yourself from your negative headspace before you tried to toss around weights you barely knew how to use.

It had sort of worked, but now you hadn’t even entered the building and you were already a sweaty, panting, mess.

After guzzling down half of your water bottle you enter the building, resignation in your heart. Cardio wasn’t even your focus today.

The automatic doors slide open with their usual swish, and you’re greeting by the familiar stale smell all gyms seem to share, no matter how clean. It’s comforting, even if you do wish you could go home already.

There’s a guy already at the receptionist’s desk when you approach, talking in slow and measured English. His back is broad and built, huge biceps on display in a tight fitting black t-shirt. You kinda wanna squish them.

You try to shake yourself from your admiration, reminding yourself that there were very many well-muscled men in this place and that you’d always endeavored to keep a polite line-of-sight, even when they don’t. It hadn’t even been a hard ask, until now.

You really can’t help the way your eyes trace up and down his form. It should be impossible, you think, to somehow bulk up in only the right places, but by Jove his man has done it. This time you physically shake your head to snap yourself out of it.

You’d be polite if it killed you. Even if neither the stranger or the scrawny receptionist had noticed your wandering gaze.

Especially then.

While you were.... distracted... the man’s conversation with the receptionist seemed to be going a whole lot of nowhere. From what you can gather he’s looking for a short-term membership, and the receptionist is trying to tell him they don’t do that.

You know this to be true, even the trial period was an entire month. You’d specifically chosen this gym for that reason. If you hadn’t been able to stick it out for a month, you know you’d have never used the place enough to justify a membership.

Your sympathies to this stranger, it seems he really just needs a little less than a week. You know there are some no-commitment type places not too far though, so you wonder why he’s stuck on this place.

Their back and forth goes a while longer, but it’s evident that the beautifully-built stranger can’t really argue his case properly.

Eventually he steps to the side to make a call, and you’re able to approach the counter.

[sequinsmile-x]

Instincts - The Fifth Time

Five times Emily doesn't yell at her mother-in-law, and one time she does.

Part 5/6

-x-

Hi besties <3

Thank you so much for the love on this version of them! In the next chapter, Emily will FINALLY lose her shit and I'll be using the prompt that inspired this whole fic.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Full list of tags can be found on the Master List

Words: 3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The fifth time, Emily cries but she doesn’t yell, and she takes that as a win. 

It’s Jack’s birthday, and despite telling him he could do whatever he wanted to do, all he wanted was Emily’s homemade lasagne and time with his family. It was sweet, and adorable and everything she’d come to expect from her eldest, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t immediately filled with dread at the thought of spending the evening with her mother, Caroline and Roy all at once. 

Thankfully, either through divine intervention or Jessica simply being able to read Emily’s mind to pull some strings with her dad, Roy declined the invitation to dinner and said he and Jess would take Jack out on another day. Emily is more grateful for it than she thinks she should be, relief rolling in her belly along with her little girl as she stands at the kitchen counter preparing dinner. 

She chuckles to herself and rubs a circle on her bump, “You have no idea how much I’d like a glass of wine tonight, sweet girl,” she says, grimacing at the thought of the evening ahead with her mother and Caroline in the same room, “But you’re worth it,” she lowers her voice as if she’s telling the baby a secret, as if she’d understand her, “I’ll just eat all the garlic bread instead.” 

“Surely not all of it.” 

She looks up and smiles when her eyes meet her husband’s. Hugo is on his hip, the 18-month-old’s tiny fist wrapped around the collar of Aaron’s polo shirt. Their matching smiles make her stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with the little girl rolling around in there, and she finds herself having to hold back tears like she had to so often these days. She was entirely at the mercy of her hormones, and she knew that was part of the reason she was not looking forward to this evening. 

Her mother she could handle. Somehow their relationship was as good as it had ever been. Caroline had created a mutual ground between mother and daughter that had never existed before. They’d throw looks at each other across the room if she said something passive aggressive, and Elizabeth would make a point of showing Jack and Hugo affection Emily hadn’t known she was capable of. It was Caroline she was worried about. Emily struggled to keep her cool around her mother-in-law at the best of times, let alone when she was almost 8 months pregnant. Every one of her nerves felt like they had been scraped raw. Exhaustion and weariness that she’d learnt were unavoidable when she was pregnant with Hugo stripping away all of her self-made protections. Walls and turrets and bared wire she’d wrapped around herself since she was Jack’s age that just disappeared the moment she began to feel overwhelmed. 

She knew she’d be more susceptible to Caroline’s behaviour than usual. Her digs. The comments she’d make. How she’d treat Hugo slightly differently to Jack, but not in a way that was significant enough to call out, each instance something that could easily be explained away with wilful ignorance or by simply calling it a misunderstanding. Aaron had suggested that they try and have their mothers come at different times, divide and concur, but Jack loved his grandmothers, and Emily could pull herself together for one evening for his birthday. 

“Most of it,” she replies, raising an eyebrow at her husband, “By the end of the evening my plan is to have as much garlic bread in me as I do baby.” 

He laughs and he walks over, stamping a kiss against her cheek and then her lips when she turns her head, “Can I help?” 

Her reply is cut off when the doorbell rings, closely followed by Jack yelling from upstairs and the thunder of his footsteps on the hardwood floor. 

“It’s Grandma Lizzie, I was watching out the window.” 

Aaron smiles reassuringly at Emily and leans in to kiss her cheek. Hugo wriggles in his arms, no longer satisfied with being so close to his mom and not in her arms. 

“Mama.” 

“I’ll take him,” she says, abandoning the vegetables she’d been chopping before she opens her arms up to her little boy, her smile wide as his eyes meet hers, “You go make sure our eldest doesn’t fall down the stairs with excitement,” she settles Hugo on her bump and smiles wryly at Aaron, “I don’t think a trip to the ER with a broken bone is the way he wants to spend his birthday.”

Aaron nods and turns, already calling out to Jack as he goes, “Buddy, be careful on the stairs.” 

Emily blows out a slow breath and then smiles at Hugo, taking the opportunity to draw a giggle out of him by tickling his tummy. He laughs and presses his face against her neck and she kisses the top of his head.

“It’s going to be a long evening, sweet boy. You’re lucky you’ll be in bed before dessert.” 

He pulls back to look at her, his smile blocking out the background noise of the front door opening and Aaron and Jack greeting her mother.

“Mama,” Hugo says, his hands on her cheeks as he leans in to kiss her, his lips catching the tip of her nose. It was something he’d watched Aaron do again and again, and he’d started doing it recently, something he understood was affection as he would kiss the nose of whoever was holding him.

“I love you too, baby,” she says, kissing his cheek and breathing him in to store away as much time with her son as she could before the evening began. She hears familiar footsteps, and looks up to see Aaron walking in to the kitchen, Elizabeth just behind him with her arm around Jack’s shoulders. 

“Mom,” Jack says excitedly as he looks at Emily, “Grandma Lizzie got me a massive present. Can I open it?” 

“We should wait until your Grandma Caroline gets here, okay?” She replies, and he sighs like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Emily smiles as she turns to Elizabeth, “Hi Mom.”

“Hi,” she replies, “How are you feeling?” 

She groans good naturedly, “Like the most pregnant person to ever exist,” she quips and then she bounces Hugo a little to get his attention, “You want to go to Grandma?”

“Gamma,” he exclaims as he reaches out for her, giggling as she takes him into his arms and settles him on her hip. He leans in and kisses her nose, which draws a confused frown out of her that makes Emily chuckle. 

“I’ll let Aaron explain that one,” she says, raising her eyebrow at her husband and smiling when he tries to feign innocence. The doorbell rings again and Jack’s eyes light up as he runs out towards the front door.

“I can finally open my presents.” 

“I should go make sure he doesn’t bowl her over,” Aaron says, following Jack out of the kitchen, leaving Emily alone with her mother and Hugo. 

“Here we go,” Emily mutters, blowing out a breath as she starts preparing dinner again. She looks up at her mother and sighs, “I know you get a kick out of winding her up, but can you try to be civil for me? I’m too tired and too pregnant to deal with it all.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Emily,” she says, adjusting her hold on Hugo, “But if she so happens to say something first I can’t be held responsible for that,” she looks down at the toddler on her hip, “Let’s go see your other grandma.” 

As soon as Emily is alone she groans, her eyes drifting closed as she tries, and fails, to centre herself, “Fuck it,” she says, letting the knife in her hands clatter to the counter as she opens the fridge, “I’m putting the garlic bread in the oven.”

___

She feels more relaxed after Jack opens his gifts - a new bike from Elizabeth and a skateboard from Caroline. Neither one of them had been particularly subtle in their attempt to outdo each other. When Emily checks on dinner she makes sure to add bandaids to the shopping list stuck to the fridge, unable to stop herself from sighing as she imagines the scraped knees and elbows Jack would have in the near future. 

She’s just finished plating up the lasagne, a celebratory slice of garlic bread in hand, when Aaron walks in. 

“Can I help with anything?” He asks, “Everyone is in the dining room.”

She hums and rubs at her sternum, “Yeah you can start to take everyone’s through if you don’t mind.”

He furrows his brow as he watches her rub her sternum again, “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

“The baby is giving me heartburn.”

He hums, and looks down at the plate of garlic bread on the counter, “Are you sure it has nothing to do with the 3 slices of garlic bread you just ate?” 

She narrows her eyes at him, “Are you in here to help, or are you here to just lower your chances of ever having sex again?” 

He clears his throat and leans in to kiss her cheek, and then he picks up two plates, “Here to help.”

She smiles and bites the inside of her cheek in a failed attempt to contain it, “Correct answer.” 

He has to help her sit down when everyone has their food. One of his hands on her back and one hand in hers as he helps lower her onto the chair she doesn’t remember being so low when they bought them. She smiles tightly as she looks across the table at Caroline and Elizabeth, embarrassment colouring her cheeks even though she knows they would have gone through this too. 

Caroline smiles sympathetically, an edge to it that Emily had learnt not to trust, and she has a bite of her lasagne, “Even if we didn’t know you were having a girl, I would have guessed it. You’re carrying her differently than you did with Hugo.” 

Emily smiles tightly, her hand on Aaron’s thigh as she digs her fingers in, her lips pressed together as she fights to find a polite way to respond to Caroline’s not-so-subtle comment about her weight. 

“She is definitely lower than Hugo was at this stage,” she says conversationally, reminding herself that the kids were in the room, “I think I might go into labour before my due date again.” 

“You’re flying back home next week, aren’t you Caroline?” Elizabeth asks, her eyebrows raised in fake curiosity, “Such a shame you won’t be able to get back here until at least a month after the baby is born.” 

Caroline smiles and sips her wine, “Oh, if it comes to it and Emily and Aaron need me here I can fly back earlier. Work will understand.” 

“Oh I’m sure you’ll formulate a plan,” Elizabeth replies, her smile sweet and fake, and it makes Aaron almost choke on his scotch. Caroline’s face falls, her jaw tight as she tries and fails to think of a response, and when Elizabeth looks over at Emily she only seems more delighted by her daughter’s disbelieving expression. 

“Mom,” she says through her teeth, throwing her a warning look before she looks over at Jack, desperate to move the conversation on so they don’t end up going over old ground again, “Are you enjoying your birthday dinner, sweetie?” 

He nods enthusiastically, “It’s so good Mom. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, honey.” 

“Is it a new recipe?” Caroline cuts across, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks down at her plate, and Emily shakes her head.

“No,” she replies, smiling tightly, trying to focus on Hugo in his high chair to make sure he actually ate some of his dinner and didn’t just smash it all over his face, “It’s the same as when you had it last time.” 

Caroline hums, “It’s just saltier than I remember, that’s all.” 

Emily would never be able to figure out why that’s what sets her off, why a simple comment about the taste of a meal she’d made for her son’s birthday makes tears press at the back of her eyes but it does. She feels a now familiar wave of emotion overtake her, pulling her under until she can’t breathe, drowning the hormones that seemed to rule everything she did these days. She presses her lips together to try and stop her chin from trembling but it doesn’t work. Tears splash down on to her cheeks before she can stop them, and because she’s turned towards him to help Hugo with his dinner, Jack is the first to notice,

“Mom, please don’t cry,” he says, unintentionally drawing everyone else's attention to her, his eyebrows furrowed together, “It’s delicious I promise.” 

Emily closes her eyes, which only makes more tears spill down her cheeks, and she feels Aaron’s hand on her back. She turns to look at him, her cheeks warm with embarrassment and tears, and he squeezes her shoulder. 

“Sweetheart-”

“Emily, there’s no need to be upset,” Caroline says, “I was just saying, maybe next time use a bit less salt.”

It tips her over the edge, and she knows if she doesn’t get out of here now she’ll say something that will break a years long promise to her husband. Somehow, defying her own thoughts over what she was currently capable of, Emily stands up by herself, her hand on her bump as she makes sure she’s steady before she turns to leave the dining room, “Excuse me for a minute.” 

She walks towards the kitchen, a mix of her mother and Aaron both chastising Caroline as she goes slowly fading into the background. She’s oddly proud of herself when she makes it there without bursting into tears, her hand over her mouth to capture her sob so no one else hears it as all the anger she feels spills out down her cheeks. 

She isn’t alone for long. Aaron walks in with Hugo on his hip, a mirror image of how they’d walked in on her earlier, except this time Hugo has remnants of pasta sauce on his face that she hadn’t quite cleaned off. 

“Sweetheart-”

“I’m sorry,” she says, wiping tears from her cheeks before she shakes her head, “Actually, no. I’m not. I know she’s your mom Aaron but she does this every time.” 

He sighs and steps closer, “I know, Em-”

“And I know what I promised, but it is getting harder and harder-”

“I know-”

“And if the boys weren’t there-”

“Emily,” he says, finally catching her attention as he cups her cheek and makes her look at him, “I know. I’m sorry. She…” he drifts off and shakes head, “She always somehow manages to outdo herself.”

“I don’t know,” Emily hums as she leans against him and reaches out to run her fingers through Hugo’s hair, “Giving my newborn baby formula when we specifically told her I was exclusively nursing will still take some beating, honey.” 

“I know that too,” he says, kissing her temple, “Whilst we’re on the topic…your mom’s comment about her ‘formulating a plan.’” 

He raises an amused eyebrow at her and she shakes her head, “You’ve got to give it to her, she’s funny when she tries to be.”

“If it helps,” he says, running a hand up and down her back, “Mom always criticised Haley’s cooking too.”

She hums, “Oddly, that does help.” 

They stand there in silence for a few moments before he kisses her head and stands back. He leans in and kisses her nose, smiling when she scrunches it up. He turns to Hugo and shifts him closer, “Okay buddy, I think Mama needs another kiss to feel better.” 

Hugo beams and does as he’s told, leaning in to stamp a kiss to the tip of Emily’s nose, something that makes her laugh when she also feels cold pasta sauce pressed against her cheek from his. She doesn’t miss Aaron’s smile of victory when she laughs and she shakes her head lovingly at him.

“Okay, pasta boy,” she says, taking Hugo from Aaron, “I’ll go give you a bath and then put you to bed,” she looks up at her husband, “Maybe Daddy will make sure your grandmas are gone by the time I’m back downstairs?” 

Aaron nods and salutes her, making her roll her eyes despite her smile. He leans in and kisses Hugo’s head, “Good night, Hugo. Love you.” 

“Love Dada.” 

Emily smiles as she watches Aaron walk away and she blows out a breath before she turns her attention to her youngest son. 

“Okay, kiddo. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed, and then I can fall asleep watching whatever movie your brother chooses later.” She starts walking towards the stairs and then she pauses, taking a moment to kiss Hugo’s head again, whispering a promise against his skin that she’d been making since the day he was born, “I promise I’ll never make you, Jack or baby sister feel like this,” she says, holding him close, basking in the comfort of him against her chest, of the roll of her daughter in her belly, and the unmistakable timbre of Jack’s voice down the hall, “I promise I’ll always be exactly what you need me to be.” 

That was a promise she knew she’d always be able to keep, no matter what. 

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

my 2024 review

@guiltyasdave tagged me, thank you so much babygirl 🫶

writing

I published 11 fics and wrote about 19k words this year. Which is, for me personally, huge.

I tooted my own horn here, so if you want to cut to a super short "best of" just visit that post. For the rest: the yapping starts in 3... 2... 1...

The man of my year was DAVE YORK. He got me back into writing in May and since then my thoughts are orbiting around him. I almost wrote exclusively for him. I sent him to a club, had him eating croissants while doing the dirty, made him confess his sins. 8 oneshots in total and I even started something like a series with in the sheets. Plus, still absolutely mind-blowing for a newbie writer like myself: slow has over 500 notes. What in the ever loving fuck? Thank you all so much!

And then I wrote for JOEL MILLER. Imagine being in Ireland and meeting this gorgeous Texan in a pub. It's fluffy and warm and exactly how I imagine a first kiss happening in Ireland.

And then there are so many wips for other characters like Max Phillips, Marcus Accacius, Javier Peña, Oberyn Martell... Most of them half way finished. All of them are part of challenges (I'm so sorry...) but they will come to you some time soon-ish in 2025, pinky promise!

And then there are wips for some Jake Gyllenhaal characters: Rusty Sabich, John Kinley and Lou Bloom. At least two of those should see the light of day in 2025 too (please send thoughts and prayers).

reading

I suck at reading. One of my new year's resolutions: read more (maybe a fic per week, not a fic per month...). And work on a system to find my fic recs on my blog so I can talk about them in length for the 2025 review. Until then: You are a talented bunch of lovely people, please be kind to each other and yourselves, thank you for creating pure magic!

all the highlights 2024, a selection

This year was all about connection, in the form of grief and friendship. Which is both ultimately love. In January I felt unbelievably lonely and sad and now I don't because it gets better. It always does. We just have to hang in there.

I reached out into the Jake Gyllenhaal fandom and met precious and insanely talented people there. @davidayer @charliehoennam and @gyllenhaalstories you three made my year so much better and I am beyond grateful to be allowed to live in your DMs 💛 (I'm working on responding in time, I swear...)

Watching Presumed Innocent every week in the wee hours of the (European) morning with my lovely Laurie, screaming at each other about writing, just chatting and holding space for each other... @gyllenhaalstories I love you so much sweet pea and I hate that there is this stupid ocean between us. We are meant to be eating blue candies while watching movies and hug at all times.

I started some polls and asks in the Jake fandom and it was so beautiful to witness how people came together and started reaching out and talking. I am a little proud of myself that I was part of the reason for that.

And finally: @guiltyasdave. I never thought I would find a friend in this fandom just because finding friends is hard and making a friend in real life is even harder. But not with you. With you everything is easy. You're not getting rid of me anytime soon 💛🥹

Oof, that was a lot. Thanks for reading!

Absolutely no pressure tagging, this post was some real work haha: @toomanystoriessolittletime @gyllenhaalstories @ace-turned-confused @yxtkiwiyxt

dividers: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

[the-family-business-83]

Unexpected Calling – Part I

Part 1 | Masterlist WIP

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: Be prepared for some adult language! Nothing too crazy in this first part though, we're just getting started so that's my only warning for now.

Word count: 1.6k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

This post was Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661. Thanks a million!

A/N: Thought I'd throw my hand at a prompted fic! Hope you guys like it, I'll add a chapter directory and update as needed as the next parts are posted. So stay tuned 👀 Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Every morning is always the same when you're paid to kill. He'd been trying to be better about the whole actual killing part lately, but that didn't change his morning routine very much. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off—yes, he still used one. If you asked for his reasoning, he'd tell you it's because it's less complicated and you can always count on it to work because it simply stayed plugged into the wall; in the event that the power went out? It had batteries for backup power, and you can't find that kind of peace of mind with just the alarms on your phone. He's still an old soul, sue him. He woke up at 6:45 am, on the dot, every morning without fail that way so it was rather effective.

After the blaring sound of his trusty alarm clock came the process of forcing himself out of bed and cleaning up for the day; shaving if necessary, freshening up, getting dressed, the works. This was generally when he'd change his appearance should the need arise, as well. But he didn't need to do that this morning and so he flicked the light to the bathroom off as he left the room when he was finished, heading out to his kitchen thereafter. The next step? Food. It was always 7 am sharp by the time he got done with his wakeup process, the only time that changed being when he added any extra steps in the bathroom. And breakfast was always simple: a cup of hot black coffee, sliced avocado, and bread toasted to perfection with an egg over medium to be dipped in. And it never failed to be a pleasant way to start his morning, usually followed closely after by a session of watching the morning news. He found it a good way to see what was going on in the area and across the country so he could plan accordingly.

If he didn't have a job, which by chance was the case today, he'd generally find any sort of quiet way to spend the rest of his morning; reading a book, cleaning up all his weapons, or a walk in the park if he felt like it. Today, he felt like it. And it was mostly peaceful, if you excluded the grating sound of car horns, tires squealing, and buses chuffing past. And of course, if you chose to ignore the rumbling from the subway, the people shouting either in their urgency to get to work or just simply because they were an ass, then it was really utterly plain and quiet to walk through Central Park. By this point Bucky had truly gotten used to it. He supposed in some ways it wasn't too much different from his home in the past. But that didn't mean he liked to spend too much time there anyway. So long as he got out and went back home just in time, he could skip the gradeschoolers and dog walkers that came around for the afternoon.

There had been nothing unusual about his day so far, and he liked that. He liked the rhythm of it all, and how it always went according to his carefully curated schedule. He began the process of unlocking his apartment door after making his way up to his floor, and pushed it open to take a step inside. Crunch.

What the helll...?

Bucky frowned as, seemingly, something sat under his boot and crinkled where he'd stepped, making the same sound again as he carefully pried his foot off. The poor, crisply folded, paper envelope that had earlier been slotted through his dead-drop, suffered a dirt-covered footprint but aside from that, it seemed harmless and intact as he picked it up to inspect it. A curious thing to find when you hardly get mail aside from the bills. What was even more curious was the contents within it, feeling a bit lumpy and—quite frankly—heavy for a letter-sized envelope. He closed the door behind himself with one hand, locking it once again out of habit while the other kept hold of the envelope. Moments later he flicked out a switchblade to slice it open revealing not only a handwritten letter but also $23.42.....Exactly. All in small change.

It was quite honestly the oddest thing he'd seen or received to date, and that was including the number of quite-literal backstabs he'd received, numerous other maiming injuries, and the odd encounters he’d had with a talking raccoon, tree, and robot...man…thing. To name a few. That was also including the number of odd jobs he'd been offered and peculiar payment methods he'd been given. Never had he come across such a specific payment with a letter that….upon further inspection….looked as though its penman couldn't be much older than 9 years old, at most.

'Dear mister,

My name is Rosie Jones. I am 9 yeers old. My mommy says you're vary good at helping people. Well, I need your help. Mommy also said you like to be paid for helping, so I broke my piggy bank open so you wood help us. Mommy doesn't know yet thoe, so please don't tell her.

My mommy dissuhpeered disappeered last night. She told me to hide and I did but now I can't find her and so I need your help mister becuz you're really good at finding people too, mommy said so. Please please help me find my mommy, I don't know what to do mister.

– Rosie'

"You've gotta be shitting me." He muttered to himself. The first question Bucky had, quite honestly, was how did this little girl even know who he was? Or where he lived? Not many people did, if any, truth be told. If they did? They were usually dead within minutes. It was one of many reasons that kept his renowned status intact. But here he was, sitting at his own table, with proof that some little girl knew both of those things. Frowning down at the paper and envelope of change, the assassin ran his hand back through his dark brown hair momentarily, processing what he'd just read. On one hand, it could be an elaborate trap. By all rights he had to assume it, considering the nature of the letter and the fact that a little girl of all people had written it. But on the other hand, there was a certain dedication there that he simply couldn't ignore. And some part of him couldn't help but at least look into it. So moments later, the man was pulling out his laptop and began searching for answers, anything that could give this little girl's story any sort of credit.

Much to his surprise? It checked out. Every last bit of it. There was a mother, connected to the Rosie Jones in question, who had gone missing under rather mysterious circumstances. "I'll be damned, mystery kiddo."

'Y/N Jones, aged 37, a single mother, was nowhere to be found the next morning after reports came in that a struggle and silenced gunshots were heard from the house that night.'

He probably could have gotten away with just keeping the money and letting it go. It was some little kid somewhere hoping for someone to hear her plea, he could get away with it. But it was that name…. he'd seen it before, he knew he had. In all fairness though, he really only remembered faces exceptionally well. Names didn't matter in the long run, names didn't tell him who he was shooting within a crowd of people. So why did it keep nagging at the back of his mind?...

Spoiler alert: he shouldn't have went digging. He should have just left it alone. But he had always been a curious mind and he was nothing if not thorough on top of that. Popping open the top to his bottle of whiskey, Bucky carefully poured out a favorable portion into a glass tumbler, before letting it down onto the counter as he heard an agreeable noise coming from his laptop to signal it had finished its task. Glancing over his shoulder, he sipped on his drink as he made his way back over to the table, having waited for what seemed like an hour to get the information he wanted. And the minute he looked at the screen was the very same minute he regretted it.

He knew that face.

He knew it like the back of his hand almost, he knew it the same way he knew the taste of bourbon or the sound of a .22 magnum. That was the face of Y/N Y/L/N and it was a face he had been trying to forget for years now. But most of all he knew it was a mistake to have even touched this with a ten-foot pole. Because now he had a target, he knew what the target looked like, and he had been paid in- well, maybe not-so-full, but in 9-year-old currency $23.42 was basically a million dollars considering it was all her savings.

In short?

He had to do it now.

He knew that. And it damn near made him groan at the prospect. Because this was going to be a long-ass job, and if he was going to ensure the rescue of that little girl's mother, then he needed to ensure that child's safety. The less leverage the 'enemy' had, the easier his job was. So as he sighed out, "Damnitall, this better be fuckin worth it kid," the hundred year old assassin finished off his drink and went about packing his things to take on a job that he never asked for, but knew damn well he was stuck with until it was over.

But at least if he had to go through with this, he was going to be damn sure he did it right, that was for sure.

Taglist: If you weren't tagged it's because I couldn't get it to tag you or I didn't know which account was yours – @aingealcethlenn @deaan @idabbleincrazy @impala-1979 @kadet-jb @myinconnelly2 @princessmisery666 @rosedemica @tvdspngirl314 @darsynia @buckys-zomdoll @cookingglitterfairy @emilyshurley @fictionalabyss @jotink78 @mariekoukie6661 @manawhaat @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @scarletwinchester84 @sorenmarie87 @until-theend-oftheline @starryeyes2000 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @betweengalaxies2 @focusonspn

[sashi-ya]

五 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘𝗦 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧: 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 [+18] - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝! 𝙸𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚄𝚛𝚢𝚞𝚞 𝚡 𝙵! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✦ request: anonymous asked: hi sashi! I couldn't find any fic of uryu on your masterlists, so I thought I could request one for him. For the prompt if it's not taken yet, "watching you in silence" with female reader, please! Thank you and congratz for 5.5K! 🤍 ➜ hi love!! yes, indeed this is my first time writing for him! it turned out a little bit longer than expected so I divided it in to two parts! Hope you like it! 💖 ✦ tw: part 1 is completely sfw! be careful if you haven't read the last chapter of manga! Uryu is already a doctor (28 y/o) so he isn't a minor anymore. (the image used for the banner is him now) Will post part 2 in the following days :3 that one includes +18 content! ✦ masterlist ✦ part 2

Watching you in silence the reflection on his glasses; your body dancing underneath the night lights.

Never once he dared to confess. Never once he dared to touch your face even if you fell asleep on his shoulder so many times. If there was something Dr. Ishida Uryu was for you, it was your safe place.

But his heart ached for you, his body claimed yours; that sweet young boy that has now bloomed into a mature man, has loved you since high school days.

Karakura town seems, as always, a peaceful place to live. You walk through the streets of the city centre with a bag full of bread. Inoue-san made her dream come true, and now, she has her own bakery. So, whenever you visit her you come back with much more than what you went to buy.

As you yawn you take a look at the big, white building ahead of you. It shines with the sun, and the blue details on the walls always shine much more. Ishida clinic, your workplace, it’s always been a very sophisticated place.

You were on guard last night, and now the weekend awaits for your tired mind to enjoy it, fully. Yet, even if sometimes you wish you never put a step into that place, you decide to pay a visit to the floor you’ve been assigned since you get the job.

“I have too much bread in this bag, I will visit the guys and bring them some” you murmur, smiling as you get inside the doors of the clinic.

As you enter, the security guard waves at you with a big smile. And after giving him a choux filled with chocolate, you take the elevator to floor 6.

“I bring you bread; I bring you calories!” you chime right at the entrance of the nurses office. Everyone of your workmates jolts from their seats and others come when their duties are over. Everybody enjoys the delicious pastries from Kurosaki & Inoue Patisserie.

Soon, you decide is time to leave. Today is little Kazui’s birthday, so, you need to get ready for the night as you are going to have dinner with them.

“Bye bye!! Have a good guard!!” you salute your friends, and as you turn around -carefree and a little violently- you bump into a man wearing glasses.

His slender fingers and unpolluted white coat receive you in their embrace, holding you not to fall on him.

Your eyes reflect on his glasses, even if his black bangs cover half of his right eye.

“Dr. Ishida…” you murmur, in awe. When you were still in high school you always saw him like a cute boy, who later on showed how strong and amazing he could be. Yet, his handsome looks were never important to you until that deadly situation that involved a war on the skies…

“(Name)! are you ok? Why are you here in your free day?” he asks, surprised and worried. He never misses your schedule, for some reason he knows it better than you.

You slowly walk back. Just a few steps. Feeling your cheeks burn, you apologize for bumping into him. “I’m sorry, Ury- Dr. Ishida. I didn’t see you were behind me! I am good, I just passed by to give some bread to the guys. Inoue gave me a lot; you know how she is”

Those words sound like a deeper truth to the Quincy. Of course, you never noticed him being behind you…

“It’s ok, (Name)” he sighs, fixing his glasses with his ring finger over the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to Kazui’s birthday party tonight?” Uryu asks, walking outside the nurse office and into the hall with you.

You nod, with a bright smile that makes him gasp and immediately after hide behind his onyx hair. He is still a shy guy, after all.

You show him the contents of one of your bags, two boxes with blue and white paper wrapping and a big bow on top. “One from me, one from you. I knew you would be working late today so naturally you wouldn’t have time to buy your nephew a present” you tell him; professionalism is only used when there are more people around you two.

He lets his straight shoulders fall. His head does the same. Of course, he forgot. “Thank you, (Name). You need to tell me how much is i-“

“ISHIDA URYU, IT ISN’T NECESSARY! You are gonna come pick me up tonight, thus, there is the payment” you cut him off. He didn’t say he was going to pick you up; you just ordered him to do so.

He smiles, softly. “I was going to pick you up either way. See you at nine, ok?” he says, quickly as his beeper starts ringing. A new patient, or some kind of emergency awaits for the best doctor.

You beam back. Trying to read the message on the tiny screen of his calling device. But he doesn’t allow you to do so. “It’s your free day. I can do it. Go”

“Oh… ok, Doc ~” you jump to kiss his cheek and purr, for you to then leave with little jumps playfully through the halls of your workplace.

As you walk away, and Uryu still remains where you left him, he takes his soft hand to his equally soft cheek. He feels like it burns, but a good type of heat. And his heart, beats faster than what he could probably consider healthy.

“Dr. Ishida!! Code blue!” one of the nurses wakes him up from the dream of your lips crushing against his lips instead of his cheek the next time.

“Code blue?? CODE BLUE!”

As you pick the dress you are wearing for tonight, you think of him. Your Quincy friend has been in your mind a lot lately. Why? Well, you aren’t still very sure.

“I’m going for the yellow flowery one, I think is not gonna be that chilly tonight” you lie to yourself, you know you will end up asking Orihime for a coat since the guys are gonna be hosting a barbeque at the rooftop.

You let your hair lose, you are tired of having it up in a tie ponytail every day of the week for work. A little bit of makeup, perhaps a little more than usual.

The packages with your present next to Uryu’s one rest on the coach next to the door, ready for when he rings your bell.

As you wait for your Quincy friend, you think about him. You see him like a star; not only handsome but also extremely successful. There is no woman that blushes whenever he asses them, and still, he doesn’t seem to notice.  You always asked yourself why, being as intelligent as he is, Uryu never left to the big city nor got married…

The bell makes you jump from the coach. You were so deep into your thoughts -and the photos you took last summer with him- that you got pretty scared.

“I’m coming Uryu!” you chime, spraying some sweet perfume while you look into the mirror one last time. With your purse and the present bag in your hands, you open the door.

The breeze of spring kisses your cheeks and plays with your lose hair as you watch an all-white dressed Uryu stand on your porch.

His blue eyes open big and swallow your beauty entirely. His pale lips separate, and even if there is plenty of air around not a single molecule of oxygen gets inside his body.

“Hey! I’m glad I have such a good-looking friend to pick me up! Thank you, my neighbours will finally stop thinking I’m becoming the crazy cat lady” you joke, closing the door behind you.

However, Uryu isn’t laughing. He actually isn’t reacting. He is standing there, with no signs of life whatsoever.

You tilt your head to the side; he is either being abducted by the shadows again or he worked that much he is sleeping with his eyes open.

“Ishida Uryu? Earth calling Uryu-chan?” you snap your fingers in front of him to catch his attention -even if you had all of it-.

He softly shakes his head and blinks back. His cheeks become as red as tomatoes, but he plays it cool. Uryu turns around quickly to cover his blush; a blush you saw either way.

“You wanna walk? Or do I took the car?” he asks, since the Kurosaki family’s house is pretty near yours.

“I think we should walk, the spring breeze will ease someone’s blushed cheeks…” you murmur, so low he didn’t hear.

“Come again?” “Walking. I feel like enjoying the spring breeze!”

Both begin to head towards North. The moon shines brightly above your heads and there isn’t much sound around the neighbourhood. Some buzzing neon lights of ramen places tint puddles of rainwater from last night. And the beauty of the pink kisses of millions of buds of sakura flowers fill your eyes.

“What a beautiful night! No wonder it has to be Kazui’s anniversary!” you comment, taking your phone to snap some pictures and walking a little bit further than him.

“It’s really beautiful, (Name)” Uryu whispers, with his hands inside the pockets of his white pants. He seems a lot more silent than always, as if something was happening to him.

“What is it with you tonight, U-chan?” you call him like when you were in school, making him gasp behind you. Turning around, you notice a miserable man that’s normally your friend and colleague.

He sighs. Looking at you with nostalgic eyes. As if he had the sensation of having lost too much time in life.

“Nothing at all, (Name)… it’s just th- CAREFUL!” he suddenly screams, pouncing into you.

You freeze. His arms around your waist have you trapped. Noses almost touching, breathing hastily, dilated pupils fixed into each other’s.

“W-what?” you stutter. “You- you were about to hit your head with that pole” he whispers, and soon you notice that right behind his hand that is now over your temple there is a big pole of a street light.

You close your eyes. Yet again, he saved you from your own clumsiness. But, why isn’t he letting you go? why are you still grabbed to his clothes? Why your skins are so joyful of being one against the other?

“Th-thank you. I’m an idiot” you mumble, looking down, discovering his lips being so close to yours.

“You… you aren’t an idiot. You were – asking- me… uh…” he tries to keep talking, but he is unable to do so. His brain cells aren’t connecting, his tongue doesn’t want to talk it only wants to kiss. His lips are burning, itching, getting dragged like a magnet to yours.

You swallow and blink slowly. It feels like the movies. You are sure he is exactly feeling the same way… You close your eyes, waiting for him to plaster the so wanted peck.

And just, exactly when the warmth of his mouth close to yours feels so hot, the sound of his phone breaks the beautiful moment.

Both quickly separate. Acting as if what was just about to happen never did. Uryu lets go free from his hug, your hands unclench to his clothes. Both cheeks burn but soon you turn around acting silly to brush off the tension.

“Kurosaki? What?” Uryu answers the phone with quite a bad mood. “Yeah, mhh. Nothing happened to me. We are about to get there. Mhh, yes. Bye”

You watch him slip his phone back into his pocket, and waits for you to turn around.

“It was Kurosaki. He said Kazui was asking for you and me” he says, all serious, acting as he always does at the hospital. “By the way, are you ok? Did you get hurt in any way?” he asks, making sure you didn’t suffer any injury from his “saving movement”.

You smile sweetly. That little boy is always as sweet as his mom. “I’m fine, U-chan. You saved me, thank you… now come on, my sweet little tangerine is waiting for us. Auntie and uncle are going!” you chime pulling Uryu from his hand. You want to act as normal as possible, just to categorically avoid even thinking of the almost kissing situation from before.

The doctor flinches when he hears “auntie and uncle”. Perhaps it is his heart wanting that to be a reality or maybe all of this has become unbearable for his shyness.

In any case both walk in silence the couple of streets until you get to your friends house. Inside, you can already hear Ichika’s screams followed by Rukia’s scolding.

“Ah… the pests” you giggle. You love the Shinigami kids, but the Quincy joke has to be told as Uryu and you aren’t soul reapers but the opposite.

Uryu let a little smile slip through his lips, and it’s enough for you not to keep pushing any other type of conversation.

Soon, the beautiful ginger Inoue opens the door, letting both of you enter into her home. For your friends, you are an already married couple, even if you haven’t ever shown any signs of romantic relationship. Yet, going everywhere together, working one next to the other, and the looks in your eyes when nobody seems to be watching are enough proof for them.

And as soon as you reach the living room, two little pests attack you. Kazui and Ichika jump over Uryu and then you. On a much more far position, you found little Nemuri standing, watching in awe everything that happens.

Chad, Rukia, Renji, Ichigo, Byakuya and his new wife, Urahara and Yoruichi, and Ichigo’s family are already at the rooftop ready to enjoy a delicious barbeque.

Uryu goes upstairs first, carrying the kids with him. Nemuri gets shily closer to him, but soon gives him a soft smile. The doctor, that once met an older version of her, pats her head with sweetness as they walk.

You accompany Inoue towards the kitchen; she needs to take some food upstairs, so you help her. However, you wait for Uryu to fully disappear to speak to her.

“Orihime, I need to tell you something that just happened” you whisper.

The ginger beauty turns around excitedly; “Don’t tell me you are already dating?” she asks, excitedly. A lot more than any other person.

You frown in confusion. “Dating? I- Uryu and I?” you stutter, she didn’t even name him, but you knew. And she did too.

“You aren’t? But… I thought he was going to t- nevermind… what was it?”

You aren’t allowed to tell her, as the kids have already come downstairs to drag you up. “Mommy, Auntie!! The meat is ready!!!”

The night seems like any other where you all have fun and eat delicious food all together like a family. However, Uryu seems more silent than ever. There are times where your sights cross, but he immediately looks down and fixes his glasses to avoid the eye contact.

You try to brush off that feeling of having done something bad. Because it is exactly what you think you did; perhaps offering your lips have only upset him… after all, you were ready to ruin a friendship of more than 20 years.

“Honey, do you know what’s happening to the Quincy boy?” Isshin Kurosaki asks you, looking at who could have been more than his son’s friend if the past events turned a little different.

“I… I’m not sure, Kurosaki-san. He has always been a serious man” you lie…

Soon, music starts to play, and the kids want to dance. Of course, Rukia, her sister-in-law, Kisuke, Yoruichi and Orihime join the dancing, while Ichika tries to pull his noble uncle to the “dance floor” to do the same.

Kazui comes straight to you; “Auntie (Name), come dance with us?” “Of course, honey! You are the birthday boy so let’s dance until our feet hurt!”

There seems to be something magical that cannot be described when you enjoy the love of family. The soft breeze of late April plays with the hem of your yellow flowery dress and for some seconds you forget about Uryu.

The fairy lights that warmly light up the rooftop, look beautiful contrasted with a dark night sky.

With bare feet you dance, while Uryu watches you in silence. You are reflected on his glasses, with blurry tiny dots of light around. He loses his serious frown; his expression has now softened. Everything, absolutely everything seems to disappear when he looks at you… always from afar, always so mute.

“Ishida… ISHIDA!” “What?!” “When are you gonna tell her?” Ichigo asks, this time pretty worried because his friends seems miserable.

Uryu sighs, taking off his glasses and wrapping his forehead with his hands. He rests his chin on his palm, trying to search for a reason, for a single excuse beside being scared of rejection.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, Kurosaki. I… what would happen if she rejected me? We work together, we are like family” he murmurs, in between the laughter of the kids and the women dancing.

“Do you know who my wife is, Quincy?” Renji chimes in. “I- YOU KNOW WHO HER BROTHER IS? KUCHIKI TAICHO, YOU WANTED TO KILL ME WHEN YOU KNEW?” he asks his captain and now brother-in-law.

Byakuya looks at his empty glass of lime soda and sighs. “I wanted to kill you multiple times. Yes. But Rukia loves you, who am I to tell her not to marry you?”

“Taicho… -.-”

Ichigo starts laughing at Renji, hitting his back. Uryu smiles and softly chuckles; even Byakuya does.

“Really? Kurosaki what about you? You dork! You married Orihime but you had to wait until I got married to ask her out!!” Renji spits, pushing Ichigo to the side. “What I am trying to say is that by confessing to her I almost got slayed in two by Senbonzakura, Ishida! You shouldn’t be afraid! Go tell her” he continues, being absolutely serious and fair.

“Kids, Uryu… listen here, take your time and you will see that you will become the bravest of men when it’s time” Kurosaki Isshin intervenes, and there is no braver man than him. After all, he give it all for love.

Uryu nods. He perfectly understands what he meant. And with a candid smile from all of them, and some more cans of beer opened, the topic gets settled.

Soon, the time of blowing the candles arrive. Kazui is turning five today, but it seems to all of you that it was barely yesterday when you all were teenagers saving the world.

“Happy birthday Kazui!!”

You all take photos with him, first, aunt and uncle Abarai, the Kuchiki and their plushie of Wakame Taishii too. Yoruichi, who had become a cat by express request of the birthday boy, and Kisuke do too. Chad, who gifted Kazui his first pair of boxing gloves appears on a tik tok Orihime makes playing with his kid and lastly Uryu and you.

“Smile!” the ginger woman chimes, pointing her phone towards his son and you two. Kazui asks her mom to wait, and instantly stands up to hug you two. “My auntie and uncle!! When will I have a new cousin to play with? Is he gonna be a Quincy too?”

You gawk, looking at Uryu. He does the same, and in between giggles Orihime snaps a picture that will forever remain in your memories. Your eyes met, your lips separate, and the time, as well as in the photo, also seems to stop.

“Oh, the sincere looks of love…” Inoue whispers to his husband, who sighs… when will his friend realize how much they love each other?

Inside you, there is a mix of feelings… have you ever thought about a kid? With him? You aren’t sure, but, the idea seems both scary and beautiful.

When it’s time to go, and you salute everybody, you bite your lower lip. It’s time to walk back home, next to him. His car is parked right by your entrance, there is no way you could avoid his company… not that you wanted to avoid it, either way.

As you begin walking, not a single word is being spoken. Your shoulders feel cold, your legs too. So, you, as in a cliché romantic movie, hug yourself to try to get a little bit warmer.

And of course, Uryu notices.

“Have my coat” he says, taking his long white jacket off and putting it over your shoulders.

You wish to say no, but you simply can’t. Instead, you snuggle to it, allowing his soft perfume to reach your nose. A little smile garnishes your lips, a smile you try to hide. But a smile he notices looking at you with the corner of his eye.

A few blocks ahead of silent walk and you are already by your door. And it’s time to say goodnight… but does any of you wanted to say bye?

You put a foot on your porch, while he stays still at the very entrance of it. For some seconds, both look at each other. Swallowing, waiting for something else to happen.

“Uryu I-“  “(Name) I-“

Both speak at the same time; and both stop at the same time as well. “I- please, go ahead” you say, knowing very well he won’t take the opportunity.

“You can go first…” he shyly murmurs, now absolutely unable to say anything else.

You take a deep breath; you are freezing. “U-chan, would you like to come inside and have some coffee? It’s still pretty early… unless you are tired and I will understand and so- uh-” you start rumbling, you need to fill the silence he is giving. But he stops you with simple words…

“(Name), I’m in love with you” “Uryu…”

continues in ➡ part 2

[shrekgogurt]

Well folks. I’m on my substitute teaching grind again this week! Scheduled each day up in hopes of getting some good writing done. I did on Monday! And then proceeded to finally start reading @ninemagicks Game/Set/Match yesterday and did that every bell so uhhhhhh. Today………..well ummmmm…..yeah today I worked on chapter graphics because I’m in big procrastination mode. I want to keep riding this wave of engagement (that sounds corporate gross) but I’m also very much in my head about delivering. I should probably channel this energy into writing the chapter since such pressure is Baz’s literal arc but uhhhhhhhh why do that when I could Simon avoid. I love being mentally well!

One might say I need to find my own bravado. (more under the cut)

lol the chapter title for 13 is bravado by lorde

ok anyway

“Work In Progress Wednesday” right? That means I can talk about the progress of every part of the process? Huh? Yeah? Are you gonna stop me? TRY! TRY TO STOP ME!

Aggression aside, let’s get into it.

As previously stated on Sunday, we find ourselves at intermission. But that’s just the theatrical way of slicing up the story. The fun thing about 24 chapters (I got rid of my originally planned intermission chapter because I didn’t want to write it anymore) is that math really loves the number 24. It’s scrumptious. Yummily divisible. Ergo, IKABIKAM also has/is/will be deliciously divided. Afterall, I do keep saying I’m cooking on it.

Now, to put @alexalexinii on blast (sorry for perceiving you), they wrote in the tags of a Chapter 12 reblog: #made me realise that this fic had proper arcs? And I grinned. I cackled. I rubbed my grubby little hands together at the top of my tower as I’ve been doing this whole time because oh ARCS???????? YOU WANT ARCS???????????? I’VE GOT ARCS LYING IN WAIT LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. (I love overselling myself.)

Allow me to let you in on some of the building blocks thus far.

Chapters 1, 2, 3: a complicated reunion which is shaky but ultimately sets up

Chapters 4, 5, 6: developing the friendship which is a crucial foundation for

Chapters 7, 8, 9: the gay (Baz’s increasingly more external “hi i’m gay”, Simon’s internal “oh wait me too”) which then explodes into

Chapters 10, 11, 12: all that political parent stuff that’s been hinted at in passing which is BIG relevant and incredibly intertwined in this tangled up mess that leads into the work of….

You get it. They’re mini trilogies. Don’t ask me about dividing the chapters into groups of four because I didn’t have that in mind while writing. I like threes better. Always have. Absolute banger of a prime number.

If you for some reason want to read more about the structure, I write a little more about it in this wipsday from when I was procrastinating 9.

Now, @cutestkilla keeps telling me I’m at the downward slope now but honestly delivering on what I’ve set up scares the shit out of me WAY more than the grunt work. I’m uhhhhh yeah. This is why I’m chronically unable to finish projects but by GOD I will finish this one. I swear by it.

So here are three sentences. You get to guess from who and when.

Loving him comes as naturally as breathing. It’s intuitive when I’m not thinking. Or rather, when I’m not panicking.

If you want to follow along with all the songs I’m hyperfixating on as inspiration I’ve been sharing them over on the “shrogurt” instagram. There’s nothing I love more than talking way too much about this damn fic. Thanks for reading!

And thank you for the tags today: @nausikaaa @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @artsyunderstudy @prettygoododds @emeryhall

Now tagging: @brilla-brilla-estrellita @captain-aralias @dani-vc @ebbpettier @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @hagnoart @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @messofthejess @moodandmist @mooncello @nightimedreamersworld @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @valeffelees @whogaveyoupermission @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[jostystyles]

cooler | tj

a/n: this is my entry for @antoineroussel 's winter fic exchange! demi, thanks for putting this together as always!! this fic was written for @butgilinsky <3 I hope you enjoy it dear!! special thanks to @comphy-and-cozy for letting me brain rot about my tyson jost = nick miller agenda, and @suitandtys for the title. divider graphics are by @firefly-graphics . this fic is inspired by nick and jess's first kiss in new girl. i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, alcohol, use of she/her pronouns. mat barzal is an instigator.

word count: 2.8k

The All-Star Weekend, for a certain group of guys, meant the ability to show off their skills for the game they love, and praise for being considered the best of the best. But for the rest of them, it meant something else. 

Freedom & Relaxation. 

Of course, the way the free time was being spent varied from player to player. Some guys returned home to spend time with their kids and families, some took weekend trips, and some just stayed put. 

But for Tyson Jost, Mat Barzal, and Dante Fabbro, it meant a reunion. Typically, they only saw each other during the season when they played each other respectfully, and in the summer when they trained together amongst other things. This break, though, they’d be traveling to Cancun for a weekend getaway with some of their friends from back home. Though they all hailed from different hometowns, they had a pretty tight knit group that tried to see each other as much as possible. So when the group chat collectively agreed everyone would be free for a trip, it was decided. This was going to be a trip to remember. 

“Wait, why the fuck do I need my passport?” Mat exclaimed inquisitively, his voice echoing through the speakers of the FaceTime call. 

Abruptly pausing her packing, (Y/N) turned to grab her phone off the bed. “What? Mat, where the hell do you think Cancun is?” 

“Uh. Florida.” He said, like she had asked him the stupidest question in the world.

“Jesus fuck, Mat, it’s in Mexico. Are you kidding me? Your plane ticket literally says you’re flying into Mexico.” 

As if his mind had just been completely blown, which it had in a way, Mat’s expression turned to one of total shock. “Wow. That makes a lot of sense, actually.” 

(Y/N) shook her head with a sigh, wondering how he has managed to make it this far. Out of all her close friends, Mat was the one she’d known the longest. The two of them had grown up on the same street, their families becoming friends over the years. Despite the jokes from everyone, they’d actually defied the odds to show that boys and girls can be just friends as they’d formed such a tight bond throughout their lives and consider each other like siblings. 

Naturally, they had the same friends. Enter Dante, who came into the picture when he and Mat started playing hockey together. Over the years, the three of them grew closer and other friends came and went, but as they got older, a group solidified. As they became teenagers, Tyson became a part of that group. (Y/N) still remembers the day she first met him. 

Her family was the last to arrive at the Fabbro’s lake house, as usual. This had been a tradition for the past few years, and she usually anticipated it each time. But for some reason she was nervous. She was 14 now, and things were changing. She was no longer the nerdy little girl that hung out with the hockey boys, physically at least. The thought of being in a bathing suit around a bunch of rowdy boys made her feel awkward and uncomfortable. She reminded herself it was just Mat and Dante, her two idiot best friends who would make fun of her for the color of the swimsuit, not how she looked in it. Shaking it off, she grabbed her suitcase and wandered through the cabin to the room she shared with Dante’s sisters. Tossing the bag on the bed, she quickly grabbed her book to head down to the water. (Y/N) closed the door behind her and turned around to walk away, only to take a few steps and collide with something bare and warm. She fell to the ground, letting out an “Oof.” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going are you ok?” A voice rambled on. 

“Yeah, no problem ‘m good, I-” (Y/N) replied, her voice faltering as she looked up. Her eyes were met with the softest brown ones, flashing at her with a look of concern. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. 

“Here, let me help you up. I’m Tyson, um, Tyson Jost. Mat and Dante’s friend from hockey.” The boy said, reaching down to help her up. 

“I’m (Y/N). Also Mat and Dante’s friend, but um. Not from hockey.” She said, eliciting a laugh from Tyson. 

He stuck his hand out before saying, “Well, here’s to hoping we become each other’s friend too.” 

Shaking his hand, (Y/N) shook her head with a shy smile. A part of her knew her life would never be the same now that he was in it. 

“...when Tyson gets in?” 

The sound of Mat’s voice brought her back to reality. “Hm?” She replied. Rolling his eyes, Mat spoke with a teasing tone. 

“I knew that saying his name would get your attention. Do you know when Tyson gets in?” 

“You’re a dick. He gets in around the same time as you so I’d try and get to the house together. Gabe, Alicia, Jay and I will already be there.” 

“Fer sure. You think this’ll be the trip you finally admit you’re in love with each other?”

(Y/N) shot him a glare. “I will hang up on you right now Mathew. Tyson is not in love with me.” 

“You didn’t deny you’re in love with him though.” 

Caught off guard, she stumbled over her words. Mat let out a laugh, saying, “(Y/N/N) you realize I know you better than anyone right? You aren’t fooling anyone. Except Tys. He’s definitely oblivious.” 

“I will literally skin you alive and slice your achilles tendon if you say anything to him on this trip.” 

“Love you too.” 

If there was anything Tyson needed right now, it was a gigantic margarita on the beach. The past year of his life had been a bit insane, and he was in desperate need of a vacation. He’d missed his friends, too. They didn’t get to see each other that often now that they were older, and cherished times like this. His flight had landed from Buffalo a few minutes ago, and he was waiting at the baggage claim to grab his luggage. Scrolling through instagram to pass time, he felt a hand clap on his shoulder and whipped his head around. 

“Oh hell yeah. Missed you brother, what’s up!” He said, turning to embrace Mat in a hug.

“Missed you too bud. You ready for the best weekend of your life? C’mon. Car’s here.” 

 

“Jesus Christ, Leesh. I can’t believe your boss let you have his fucking house for the weekend. This place is insane.” (Y/N) exclaimed, taking in the sights that laid before her. Alicia’s boss had graciously let her utilize his beach mansion for the weekend as a thanks for her hard work at her company. 

“Eh, perks of being fucking good at what I do.” Alicia said, taking a swig of moscato straight from the bottle. “Who wants a cocktail?” 

“I sure do. Tequila sunrise, light on the sunrise, heavy on the tequila.” A voice cried out, followed by a huff of laughter. 

Turning around, (Y/N)’s confusion turned into a smile. “Barzy, you’re not even through the door and you’re already asking for a drink? Why am I surprised?” 

“You shouldn’t be. I love day drinking.” Mat stated, hugging her. “Watch out. Your boyfriend's right behind me.” He whispered in her ear, earning him a knee to his nether regions. 

Pushing him away, (Y/N) turned towards the guy she’d been waiting far too long to see. 

Tyson stood there, a small smile on his face. After the hell he’d been through the past 10 months, he still managed to smile. That was one of her favorite things about him. His brown eyes looked soft, and duller than usual, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the flight. 

“C’mere you big oaf. I missed you, Tys.” 

He hugged her for a bit longer than he intended. There was just something comforting about being in his best friend's arms again. 

“Ok, if you two love birds are going to keep hugging, we’re going to get this party started. Drinking games start now.” Dante said, shoving two solo cups full of something their way. 

Grabbing the cups, Tyson passed one to (Y/N). “Good to see you too, Big D. Lead the way.” 

“I missed you, you know.” Tyson said, swinging his and (Y/N)’s entwined hands back and forth. 

“I missed you too. Least we’re in the same state now though, right?” 

“6 hours is still too far.” 

(Y/N) chuckled. “Well, at least I’m a train ride away instead of a plane.” 

As they approached the patio, the party was already in full swing. Music was blasting, Mat was already trying to get Jay down from her place on top of the table, and Gabe and Alicia were mixing drinks like nobody's business. 

Tyson shook his head. “Somebodies gonna fucking die here.” 

“Either that, or we’re spending a night in a Mexican jail.” (Y/N) replied. The night was just about to begin. 

To say everyone was fucked up would be putting it lightly. The drinks had been flowing consistently all evening, and it was approaching midnight. The gang had made their way inside for a game of who knows what. At this point, it was just a bunch of drunk people shouting things. Mat and Jay were sharing a bottle of wine, discussing God knows what under the dining room table. Gabe was shirtless, but wearing his swimsuit and dress socks. Tyson had somehow acquired a trench coat he found in one of the bedroom closets, and (Y/N) sported her bikini top and a bright pink tutu from god knows where. 

“Guys, I think we need to call it a night. We’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow and it’s only the first day.” 

“NO!” Alicia cried. “Don’t be a party pooper. You were out the latest in college.”

“We aren't in college anymore. I’m tired, Leesh.” (Y/N) wailed, resting her head dramatically on Tyson’s shoulder. 

“Boring. Who wants to play another game?” Alicia shouted, gaining the attention of the whole house. 

“How about good old fashioned, 7 minutes in heaven?” Jay chimed in, waggling her eyebrows mischievously. 

“OOOh, nice one Jay. I’m in. Who votes Josty and (Y/N)?” 

The room erupted in cheers, aside from (Y/N) and Tyson. 

“Hold on, don’t we get a say in this?” Tyson retorted. 

“Nope. Behind the iron curtain you go!” Alicia demanded, ushering them to the kitchen, where she then rolled the door that separated the two spaces shut. 

A chant of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” began amongst the other friends, as Tyson protested. 

“Open the door! This isn’t funny guys.” 

The chants continued, and (Y/N) sucked in a sharp breath at Tyson’s seeming wish to be left out. Would it really be that bad to him if they kissed? 

After a moment, (Y/N) spoke up. “Ok, we kissed! Sent you a picture!” 

From the other side of the door, Dante looked at the picture, which was of (Y/N) and Tyson with their lips pursed, angled at each others cheeks. “That is not a kiss! C’mon, Inspector Gadget, inspect those tonsils!” 

Barzy chimed in, saying, “Yeah! C’mon, Josty. Just give (Y/N) a tender, sensual, kiss, and we’ll let you right out.” 

“Mat, shut up!” (Y/N) cried, knowing full well he was having a field day with this. 

Tyson was desperately trying to pry the door open, but was unsuccessful. His heart was beating out of his chest. This was not how he wanted this to go. 

Leaning against the counter, (Y/N) pondered, “What’s the big deal? Let’s just suck it up and french a little.” That was the tequila talking. 

Tyson shot his head up at her. “Ok, fine. But don't say ‘suck it up and french a little’.” 

“Ok, fine, let’s do this.” 

They walked towards each other, stopping when they were in close proximity. (Y/N) could feel her heart beating a mile a minute. Tyson’s hands reached out to settle on her forearms. She could see the sparkle in his brown eyes that wasn’t there before. Later, she’d come to know, that spark only existed for her. 

“Let’s just do it.” Tyson said, his voice quivering slightly. 

“Let’s do it.” (Y/N) echoed. “Do it.” 

“Fine.” 

“I’m doing it.” 

“Fine, then do it.” 

“Are you a tounger?”

“Tyson, what the hell.” 

“Well, I don’t wanna put my tongue in your mouth if you don’t like it!” 

(Y/N) sighed, laughing at her best friend. “Just kiss me!” 

Tyson was freaking out. “OK, alright, great. That’s what I’m gonna do.” He grabbed her face, his fingers gracing her soft (Y/H/C) ever so lightly. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” (Y/N) replied, quietly. 

Tyson closed his eyes, leaning in. (Y/N) pulled her head away, saying, “I’m sorry, you can’t do that!” 

“What did I do?” Tyson asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Your face!” 

“My face?” 

“You can’t do that with your face.” 

Tyson burst into laughter, (Y/N) soon following him. They stopped, glancing at each other for a brief moment. Tyson thought she was the prettiest girl in the world. He always had, ever since they met 10 years ago. Just as he was about to speak up, a banging ensued on the wall. 

“Yo, I don’t hear any talking, so ya’ll better be smooching!” Dante screeched. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re getting to it.” Tyson said, not breaking eye contact with (Y/N). 

The chants of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” picked back up again. 

“Ok Tyson, come on. Just kiss me.” (Y/N) said, frustrated. 

“No, I’m not gonna kiss you.” 

“Kiss me!” 

“(Y/N), stop!” Tyson said harshly. 

“God, Jost, just kiss me already!” 

“No, not like this!” he almost shouted. 

(Y/N)’s face turned to one of confusion. “What? What does that mean?” 

Tyson took a step back, his face turning red. “No I didn’t mean… Nothing, I just. I didn’t mean it like that. I just, we can’t. That’s not, you know, like,” He was full on word vomiting, “Do you know like, it’s very, like, you don’t, that’s not what it…” 

(Y/N) tilted her head, a small smile on her face. Before she could say anything, the door swung open, revealing Jay, with an insane look on her face. 

“Ok, times up! Mat and I’s turn.” 

Tyson was gone faster than (Y/N) could see, leaving her with nothing but a sobered up head full of confusion, and a heavy heart. 

Everyone had since retreated to their rooms for the night, except for Jay and Mat who were probably still making out in the kitchen like they usually do when they’re drunk. Her door slightly ajar, (Y/N) saw a quick shadow while she was brushing her hair. 

“Hey!” she cried out. Tyson stopped in his own doorway, turning around to see (Y/N) in hers. She stood there in her silk nightgown, bare faced, with the look of concern painted across her face that she often gave him. 

“You ok, Tys?” She asked softly, stepping out into the hallway just a bit. 

“Yeah, Im good. Just needed to sober up a bit, so I went and sat down by the beach.” 

“Oh. Ok. Listen, about earlier. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was just messing around, feeding off our idiot friends.” (Y/N) apologized. 

“S’ Ok, (Y/N/N). It was just a game. I still think you’re cool.” 

“I think you’re cooler. Night, Tyson.” She replied with a smile. 

“G’night, (Y/N).” 

Just as she turned to go inside her room, something shifted within Tyson. Like he wasn’t even thinking, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her flush to him. Before either of them could speak, he pressed his lips onto hers, encapsulating them into a passionate kiss. His arms moved to her lower back, hugging her so forcefully as if it were to be the last time. (Y/N)’s arms were wrapped around his neck, tugging at the tufts of curls that lay at the back of his head. Their lips moved in harmony, Tyson kissing her again and again each time with more push than the last. They finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together and breathing heavily. 

Tyson kissed her once more, than again, and again. He finally looked at her, his finger under her chin forcing her to look at him. 

She was staring at him, her big beautiful (Y/E/C) that he loved so dearly, begging him to say something. 

“I meant something like that.” Tyson told her, before dropping his hands from her figure and retreating into his room, and shutting the door.  

(Y/N) stood there, in complete and utter shock. She brought her hand up to touch her lips, and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

Tyson Jost was going to be the death of her, and she’d been hoping to see the Grim Reaper for quite a while.

tags: @comphyjost @tinyhockey @2manytabsopen @laurenairay @fallinallincurls @ilyasorokinn @lt-natrace

[princessbettina]

4th of July Kisses Headcanons-Walter Deville x Fem!Reader

Happy 4th of July, everyone!!

I'm not really a big fan of this holiday, especially because of the annoyingly loud fireworks. They freak me out because of how loud they are, and I think they aren't necessary, in my opinion. Anyways, one way to cope if you will and feel more at ease with them was to write this Walter story/headcanon story.

The scene in the Invitation where the fireworks go off as Walt and Evie get to know each other, which leads to them sharing a kiss really inspired me to write this and the idea of it has started to relax my nerves a bit about fireworks in general. If you have the same anxious fear of fireworks, then I hope this short story fic helps! <3

Warnings: None-Kissing and fluff. I apologize if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes in this.

Divider Credit: saradika on Tumblr

When meeting Walter and the rest of the family, and finding out who and what they truly were, you never imagined that celebrating world holidays such as the 4th of July, would be a part of your new vampire lifestyle, but it was.

Yes, when you and Walt officially tied the knot, there were fireworks-both figuratively and literally. Especially when you both shared a kiss or two.

At first, you didn't mind the fireworks, but as the years went on celebrating the 4th, you developed a fear of them. Maybe it was because of how loud they appeared to be? Whatever the reason, you couldn't put your finger on it.

When Walter got word of your fear, he did everything in his power to protect you and help relax your nerves. He would first gently pull you close to him, wrapping an arm around your waist and the base, center of your back as you did the same for him too.

"Darling, it's alright. The fireworks won't harm you. Trust me, you're safe." Walt reassured you, his thumb gently caressing your face, causing you to blush.

You then smile up at him before resting your head on his shoulder, "I know, I know. But the popping and banging noises from them sound like I'm doomed and in grave danger from far away in the distance. Maybe that's why they scare me."

Walter nodded his head, softly smiling down at you. Letting you know that he understands and that your fear is valid, "You have nothing to fear, my love. Fireworks are like a mini soiree in the sky."

You playfully rolled your eyes as Walt and you both chuckled together. Lifting your head up, you gently booped his nose, "You're too funny, Walt Bae. Thank you for being so supportive. I love you."

"Anything for you, darling. I love you too." Walter hummed softly while planting a kiss on your neck.

Another helpful thing Walter did to help you was giving you kisses. Kisses anywhere. He knew just how much you enjoyed and loved it when he kissed you.

When your least favorite holiday rolled around again this year,and the fireworks began, Walter politely pulled you aside, and excused both himself and you from the fancy and festive party / guests and traveled with you to his pottery / ceramics office building, you enjoyed getting to spend time in that room, especially with your husband.

Taking a few deep breaths and sighing in relief was just what you needed as soon as you stepped into the space. Walt, a few steps behind you as he closed the door and traveled to your side in a matter of seconds. The fireworks grew louder from the outside.

"Thank you for bringing me here. I always feel calmer when I'm either with you and in this room, and I'm definitely feeling a slight improvement." You winked at him, causing him to blush and smirk flirtatiously at you.

"I'm so honored to hear that. I think I know something that could help you even more, darling." Walter chirped quickly as he began to look deeply into your eyes.

You quickly caught onto his gorgeous ocean like gaze and began blushing when you caught his eyes shift down to your lips. "Oh yeah? You turning off the fireworks or stopping them all together, Walt Bae?"

"Not exactly what I was going to suggest. Would you like me to turn them off? I can gladly do that if you think it would help, my love." Asked Walter, tilting his head slightly as he continued to look deep into your eyes.

You playfully shook your head and giggled. You knew that Walter knew that you were just messing around with him. You knew he had something else in mind, and you couldn't wait for it. "What were you going to suggest?"

Walt playfully raised an eyebrow and giggled, "Your favorite, and that is a kiss. How about this, how many fireworks go off is how many kisses you'll receive."

You instantly blushed once more after hearing those words your husband said. You playfully and then flirtatiously smirked at him and began to lean towards Walt near his ear, "What are you waiting for? Please do it, lovey." You whispered with pleading eyes, showing him that your fear of the fireworks going off right outside was beginning to creep up in you.

Thankfully getting the message, Walt flirtatiously smirked back at you and got closer to you too, "Ask and you shall receive, darling." Was the last thing Walter whispered to you before he filled the gap on top of your lips.

Your fear immediately washed away and became a blur as the kiss continued and deepened. Walter always had some kind of magic when he kissed you. Maybe it's a part of him being a vampire or something, but you absolutely loved it either way.

The fireworks continued to pop more outside but that didn't seem to bother you anymore, your mind was focused on the kisses that were being shared with your husband and your self and honestly you wished this kiss would last forever.

Bonus: When you slowly started to come back to reality and your ears picked up the loud fireworks right outside, you anchored onto Walt's arm and whispered, "I just heard four of them go off, does that mean what I think it does, lovey?"

Chuckling softly to himself as his blushy smirk appeared again, Walt whispered, "You're absolutely right. Smart and good girl, you are, my love."

You flushed to yourself and felt like your face was on fire after hearing what Walt replied with. This extremely handsome and sly vampire who just so happened to be your husband, definitely knew what he was doing to always get you going, if you know what I mean, and you loved every single second of it.

"Four fireworks in a row equals four kisses for my beautiful darling, Y/n." Walt whispered quickly to you before kissing you again and taking you away from your thoughts and anxious thoughts once again.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

2024 Writer’s Wrapped

Thank you so much for tagging me @sungbeam in this cute little wrap-up! And here is where you can find Beam's wrapped!

This took me hours to make for some reason? Idk. So- I will not be making divider images 🫣😔 But my 2024 Masterlist came in absolute clutch. I def would have forgotten a fic or two if not for it.

Tagging (if you wish to ofc!): @prettywordsyouleft @proudahgase-exol @amelee23 @uhhkpop & anyone else who wishes to do this! These are just the first couple of people that came to mind!

( @jinkoh ik you've already been tagged by Beam- but you were involved in many of the fics below so voilà)

Anyways, last chance to escape me rambling on about my fanfics.

First Fic of 2024: 

Lover Boy (Hui X Reader)

Published on January 16th, 2024. 

I was recovering with my fanfic winter story au- when Hui announced that his debut album was coming out. As a Hui bias- I was living on that high- and this fic would come out the day Hui’s comeback was released. It was inspired by his ‘Whui Is Me’ Concept #3 & #4 (rocker/crooner concept) and was originally inspired by Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen. 

Last Fic: 

Confession (Chanhee (New) X Reader)

Posted today - December 27th, 2024. 

While my friend did donate the idea- I completed it like weeks later- in shambles over him. I didn’t get any Chanhee requests, and since purchasing his (& kyu’s) fromm (after having their bubbles). I’ve been a disaster- a muddled mess over this guy. I was so in my feelings writing this…

Longest fic: 

Partners (Younghoon X Reader) with 5,582 words.

One of two the mafia aus I wrote this year. This is also my first tbz fanfic. This idea came long before The Grims but their ideas both came from The Convoyz. This fic in parts is sad, and it’s very angsty but it’s also a story of two lovers who would go to the end of the earth for each other and god I could have written so much more, but it needed to end at some point for the sake of my health. (Special thanks to Kebbi for putting this idea into my mind) 

Longest Winter fic: A Creepmas Party (Changmin X Reader) with 3,061 words. (This fic came from a halloween nightmare turned dream- but was toned down for the season) 

[Just for fun I’m including my longest fic of all time- from last year- at 40,163 words: Bedroom Talks (Changkyun X Reader)]

Most Popular fic for 2024: 

Under the Glow of Candlelight (Juyeon X Fem! Reader) currently has 121 notes.

This is such a tame fic, considering early that month I had written what I had considered my “dirtiest” fic Blackout earlier that month. But god, genuinely I’m such a slow & soft Juyeon enthusiast. And I just ran with it. I can’t remember writing tbh, but I remember rereading it throughout the process and just being *melted* over it. So, knowing that others felt that way with this fic makes me genuinely happy. 

Most Popular winter fic: Warm (Sunwoo X Reader) currently 34 notes. 

Personal Pick:

Wish You Were Here (Changmin X Reader) 

My personal comfort kyu fic since seeing them perform in nyc. I couldn’t bring myself to write a Vienna fic for him. But Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd was as close as I could get. This song played in my head for days after trying to write a fic for them- it finally clicked. And now, whenever I’m driving, and I hear this song it takes me back to this fic and to nyc for that briefest moment. And yeah, it means a lot to me even if it's just a drabble. 

My favorite smut I’ve written is Scared? & My favorite winter fic was either Missing You or Xmas Movies. 

Total fics written:

27 reg. fics + 15 winter fics = 42 fics in total (TBZ alone has 39 fics)

I separated these for the simple fact that I consider my winter writings in a different aspect of myself. That prolly doesn’t make sense. But yeah- they just operate on two different time basis needs. Reg fics can be done whenever. While winter fics have a deadline and I consider the me that writes them a different breed bhebhea. Also thought the Tbz statistic was quite fun, considering that means I dedicated basically my whole writing blog to them bhebhea. Outside of three, Hui^, Hyungwon, and Kihyun fics- it was a tbz writing year. 

Total Words Written:

64,721 reg. fics + 24,036 winter fics = 88,757 words in total

Honestly, a little less words than I was expecting but I wrote more fics under 1k this year than any year before. And I’m quite content with it. 

Top Artists Muses: 

Kim Younghoon

At the beginning of the year he was my muse, he got ~5k fics back-to-back. As stated before- he is also the first tbz member I wrote a fic for. He’d get a total of six fic this year. Which are: Partners [Mafia au], Broken Belts [Mechanic au], Puzzle Pieces, Little Surprises, First Snowman Together❄️, and Dancing & Laughter❄️

Ji Changmin

I think this one is obvious (considering my new icon & header image)- but once he took over the ult spot- it brought madness upon me. There are eight fics about him, and like 3+ drafts… (he doesn’t leave me alone). Anyways his eight published fics are: Just a Bad Dream [Drabble], Scared? [Smut], Playing Strangers [Smut], Wish You Were Here [Drabble], Xmas Movies❄️, Blizzards ❄️, Christmassy?→❄️, and A Creepmas Party [Suggestive + Vampire au]❄️

Kim Sunwoo

I may not bias him- but oh boy- I love writing fics for him. Mostly because his personality reminds me a bit of my teenage self. And so, it’s very fun to heal my inner teenager writing about him~ He garnered five fics! Which are: Run Away, Saturday Night [Smut], Duty Calls [Smut + Android au], Warm❄️, Baking Cookies❄️

In Conclusion: 

This has probably been my happiest year writing since I last actively wrote for Got7. While I’ve wanted to write for tbz in the past- this year because of the release of babydoll- writing for tbz came into fruition. Deobis remind me sm of ahgases with how kind and welcoming everyone is. It literally makes me feel so nice writing for my newest ult group. Honestly, I didn’t expect how quickly they would take over my whole life. I was so content just waiting for Mx to return and/or adding Svt(or ptg) to the full ult chair again. After all, I had just watched svt's concert in a theater & Hui had released his comeback. But once Hui’s album promo concluded- Tbz was right there- and it was history. I seriously wrote 3 other fics outside of them (93% of my fics were tbz 🫣). This has been a red-letter year for getting all my winter fics queued the night/morning before they were "due". And I finally decided to take smut requests~  Anyways, while I have many ideas for future fics (ex: Playing Killer! Hyunjae, Babydoll Line Poly au line, and possibly posting the alt. poly au ending for Blizzards) But- that comes with a stipulation. I’m entering a new job that’s more mentally taxing than physical. So, it may affect the number of fics I write...  😔 But as always quality over quantity~ So, we will see!

Thank you to everyone who has requested this year. And to all the new mutuals I made! Anyways, love you guys! Thank you so much for everything 🥰💖