#but they mostly end badly or simply get dropped
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eldesperadont · 1 year ago
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in b4 anyone could give me shit for not being really keen on AEW for now, or tell me that theres other stuff to watch on the shows; the thing that got me fulltime invested again was the punk/max rivalry, nothing had me that excited for wrestling since Naito becoming double champ and Hiromu/Despy in the 2020 BOSJ over in NJPW
I specifically watch wrestling cause i wanna be invested in narratives longterm, and sorry that i have very little hope in TK in that regard, fuck Phil Brooks for all i care but i enjoyed his creative vision so yeah im gonna be pissed and sad that thats over and the way it ended
AEW has so much potential but mostly awful execution, its saving grace is the immense amount of talent that people wanna see, and im not here just for cool looking fights, i want these stories only wrestling can tell, like a legit fan turning into his idols biggest nightmare, or a guy rejected by fans and company being made a villain, but through that turning into an anti-hero and finally rising above the ones that came before him, etc etc
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kenyummy · 6 months ago
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MISTER TUTOR ꒰⚘݄꒱ YUKIMIYA KENYU
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[NSFW] SYNOPSIS : yukimiya kenyu is your tutor. by extension, he is also your favourite victim to tease. also by extension, you two always end up in the exact same way each and every tutoring session.
note : hi this is smut !!!! mostly pwp so heh. heh. theres a severe lack of kenyu fics on tumblr and everywhere honestly so i decided to be a good samaritan and do my part in adding to his slowly growing fic collection. i love love love kenyu hes my boyfriend forever and ever <333 also reposted from my wattpad which u should so check out btdubs
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Yukimiya isn't sure when, but eventually, tutoring you took up a huge portion of his life. First assigned for a homework task that you had not completed—his teacher made him tutor you on how to do it and exactly how to hand it in.
Then, his math teacher made him study with you, since you were falling so far behind. You and him spent hours studying together, but nothing ever worked. Either you got him too riled up to continue this session (which really, led into a session of something else), or you yourself were way too unfocused to even consider actually trying to learn from the boy in front of you.
Either way, you and he did not mesh well together, especially in a study-like area. In a library—you were far too loud. At home (either one of your houses)—he was practically asking you to feel him up, God forbid you two were left alone in the house, as well. Even at school, you kept finding yourself getting distracted by the multitude of people that pass by, and every little thing around you intrigued you more than your work ever did.
You never read your assigned novels, something which he couldn't understand. It was just reading, and yet, you acted like it was the hardest thing in the world to do? Whatever the reason was (perhaps you could simply not read), Yukimiya needed to find a strategy that worked for you.
As your (self-proclaimed) tutor, was it not his job to make it so you don't flunk every single test? He thought so.
So, he went through various strategies with you. Studying in timeslots—it didn't work, because when you took a break, you decided that you didn't feel like going back to doing boring old work. Cramming everything in at the last minute—this worked a little better, but was still a giant failure. Sure, it had you actually studying, but you forgot everything as soon as you walked into the test room since your mind had no time to actually process it all.
Whatever it was—it was like your entire being refused to study like it would kill you (from how badly your grades are dropping, he isn't sure that's the only thing that will). A vivid procrastinator, that's what you are. Still, Yukimiya Kenyu is nothing but determined. When he's set on something —you best believe he'll go out there and get it like a champ.
That's why he was sure that this study method—tailor made to fit you—would absolutely, undoubtedly work.
You were surprised when Yukimiya asked you if you wished to spend this week's weekend study session at his house. (He isn't dumb, in fact, he's the complete opposite—and he knows exactly where you two "studying" at a private place like home leads).
So why did Yukimiya ask this? Has he perhaps turned over to the dark side? The thought of that—and perhaps, at what's to come—makes your stomach twist in excitement.
The day came without so much of a hitch. You spent the last few days of the week lazing as usual—your mind couldn't leave the thought of this weekend's "study" sesh with your favourite boy alone.
You wondered this, even as you took a train and made your way to his house—you've been there so often that his address was practically branded into your brain—and you thought about all the things he'd make you do.
Your face flushes.
As soon as you ring the doorbell—you stand outside waiting for less than a minute—you catch sight of Yukimiya Kenyu himself. Clad in a flowy, white dress shirt, and baggy grey sweatpants—he looked deliciously domestic, and it made your heart race in your chest. Especially when he spares you that smile—that godawful, lady-killer smile that could knock somebody dead—you think you may faint on the spot.
"You're just on time. My parents are going out to see my grandma, so it'll just be me and you alone for a few hours. Should be more than enough time for substantial studying, no?"
Alone? Few hours? Come on, Yukki, you know me better than that.
Now, you were starting to grow suspicious at his deliberate choice of wording and his all-too-well grin. Yukimiya Kenyu... what are you planning? Are you actually planning on getting any work done? No, not really. But that doesn't mean you can't be suspicious of this pretty boy in front of you. A studious, straight-A nerd would surely not fall into his tempting desires without at least a little bit of prodding—which is exactly why you're so wary of this whole setup.
You're led to the familiar sight of his room, somewhere you've been countless times before, same as always. You make yourself comfortable on his bed and watch as he pulls in a second chair to sit at his desk. He sits down at the one he just brought in, and motions for you to take a seat beside him on the chair he had originally had on his room.
His smile is so guileless, you can hardly get a good read on what he's feeling. It almost makes you nervous. Still, you obey, and take a seat, watching silently as he pulls out a few binders and unclipped a piece of paper. A mock test.
Wow, already? He was making you go through a practice test based on the subjects you're learning in math at the moment. Well, this wasn't too surprising. Yukimiya usually went through these with you anyway, so he could get a feel for how much you know about the subject already.
He snuffles his chair closer, eyes gleaming behind lens, "We should spend today going over these questions. If that doesn't take much time, we can just spend the rest of the day chilling out."
Yeah, we all know what you mean by "chilling out".
You nod, back slumped into the chair behind you and you groan, "Ugh... that sounds boring at hell... Can't we do something more fun, Yukki?"
With a cheeky grin and a knowing glance at the bed behind you—you think you make your intentions abundantly clear. You're certain he knows what you mean—this is always how you get what you want, after all.
By now, he'd be pink-cheeked, or perhaps even sloppily making out with you already, but not this time. He keeps the same blank, air-headed expression that he's plastered on his face since this whole tutoring thing started. "No, not this time. I've thought of a way to help you remember the fornulas, actually. I'm sure this strategy will work."
You raise a brow, clearly suspicious of his judgement. He said that same thing the past three times, and you ended up failing said three tests. "Really?"
He nods, smiling, "Really. Let's just start, and I'll try to incorporate it as naturally as possible."
Strange choice of words—but you like to trust your Yukki, so you don't question it. You and him quickly flip to the first page, and it starts with a question on area for a shape you do not recognise—with all sorts of numerals and numbers that it already makes your head spin.
"Do you understand how to solve for x?" He asks, and you think it's easier to straight up say no, rather than lie and look stupid, so you shake your head. "Alright. I'll try to explain it the best I can."
He starts talking, but it's hard to focus when his big hand is taut on your bare thigh, rubbing up and down mindlessly on the skin. You didn't realise he'd come so close to you—he's practically pressed up against your side.
Whatever. You try not to think too much of it. You focus on the sound of his words and sort of figure out how to solve what they're asking, "So, to find x, first you have to use the measurements already given, and then times that?"
He nods, "Yes, but that's not the end. You then still have to find y and z."
You groan, running a hand through your hair and sighing loudly—showing off your exhaustion five minutes into the session, "Ugh... this is taking forever... is this shit seriously on the test?"
Yukki leans up and presses a peck to your forehead. It feels oddly romantic, it makes you blush, "I know it's long, but you'll get it. Just focus, alright? I promise you'll understand if you do."
You really hope his mystery study method actually works.
Yukki continues trying to explain the concepts and formulas on how to solve the shape on the paper—and you're trying, you really are, but his fingers inch up, further and further and it makes it really damn hard to concentrate.
(Curse him, and the stupid effect he has on you.)
His hand stops moving for a moment, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. His words finally stop sounding like a jumbled mess and more like actual teaching, "I get it! You just..."
You proceed to re-explain the concepts he brought up, and worked out the question on the paper with ease. Yukimiya grins, perfect pearly whites behind his teeth and he's clearly proud, "Good girl. You're actually listening to me this time. Let's move on to the next question."
An algebraic expression—so many letters, numbers and symbols and you don't know what half of them mean. Yukki takes one good look at your face and understands exactly what's going through your head—absolutely nothing.
He begins to explain the equation to you once more—his hand inches up even further. It has practically disappeared under your skirt.
Is he doing this on purpose? You can't help but wonder, heat crawling up your neck and your stomach feels tense with anticipation. Usually, you'd think he would be—but he's not even looking at you, completely and utterly focused on the question.
Maybe he doesn't even realise.
The thought makes your skin crawl, but you push down these feelings (and try to ignore the soft touch of his fingers on your inner thighs), attempting at solving the question.
He shakes his head, brown curls falling over his pretty eyes. "No, that's not how you do it. I'll show you."
He leans forward and takes the pen from your hand—fingers brushing over yours—and wastes on time in solving the question while explaining its properties and what steps you need to take. Yukki is a good teacher. He's smart, he's thorough, and he makes sure you understand everything before you two move on.
But you really, really, can't focus because his fingers are now right atop your clothed cunt, stroking softly—it's driving you mad—and languidly, like it didn't do anything to you.
You hiss through your teeth when his index finger brushes over your clit, "Yukki..."
He looks so genuinely confused you almost believe he does not realise what he's doing, "Hm? What? Do you not understand?"
You furrow your brows in an angry motion, "No, are you kidding? You... You're—" The words die in your mouth as soon as you catch sight of the glowing, very much teasing, smirk on his lips.
Fuck. He does know what he's doing. Fucking prick.
You swallow thickly when his fingertips press a little harder, "Is this seriously the strategy you were talking about?"
He still acts oblivious, despite the way he's unabashedly glowing with joy, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let's just get back to the question. Do you understand it?"
You suck up your pride and take the pen from his grasp—solving the question easily. Yukimiya places his free hand on your head and pats it as a reward—his fingers stop moving so you have time to recuperate your thoughts—but this process soon repeats itself through the next three questions.
You can hardly think straight—but, a thought passes over your mind that maybe if you finish this up as soon as possible—he will finally stop teasing.
You find yourself working as quickly as possible—the sight is enough to please him. Perhaps this strategy really was working. Yukimiya thinks he's struck gold.
You look just like a regular diligent student—well, as diligent as a student can get with a hand shiver with their skirt. You're solving these questions with minimal difficulty and you're actually showing your working out. He hasn't felt this proud since he brought his pet turtle to show and tell in seventh grade (you teased him relentlessly for weeks after that, but he took like like a champ out of love for his pet).
... But still.
Perhaps a part of Yukimiya is rather selfish. A little voice that would never speak unless he found himself caught in a situation like this with you speaks up inside his brain—which makes his eyes glaze over with a sultry gleam and a small, almost harmless thought appear in his head.
What if...
With his sudden movement, you jolt in your chair and  hands fly to his wrists, clutching it over the fabric of your skirt. "Y... Yukki—!!! W—What—"
His two middle fingers plunge deep into your cunt and immediately take up a relentless pace—your chest begins to heave as he consistently keeps pressing against that soft, squishy spot inside of you that makes your mind fog up.
There's no freaking way you can act like— The thought dies in your throat when the heel of his palm rubs against your clit and you bite back a small whine.
The small little clicking sound that is made each time he thrusts his fingers in and out is almost inaudible in your ears when he begins to speak, lips brushing against your ear, "Keep going, gorgeous. Don't let me stop you now. You're doing so good."
Your leg jitters against him when he smiles against your ear and he feels your cunt pulse.
Still, you pick up your shaky fingers and try to keep a steady grip of the pen—it's hard when all you want is to throw your head back on his shoulder and sit there all pretty for him—but you know better than to ignore Yukimiya Kenyu.
Despite his gleeful demeanor, he seems to take joy in asserting himself over you. You wondered if maybe he just had a sick kink.
Every time you came close to solving the question—he would press harder and harder, and every time you tried to lean back onto his shoulder, he would stop abruptly and ask you what you think you are doing.
You just could not win with Yukimiya Kenyu.
He's driving you crazy. Maybe this is how you make him feel on a daily basis—but you actually think you're going to go mental from this torture. Your handwriting had gotten noticeably messier and more shaky every time you tried to solve that question—even when you did, his pace was absolutely relentless. He did not let up.
"Yukki!" You whine out, cheeks all puffed like a cute little fish and you glare at him with so much anger he actually almost feels bad for a second. Almost.
He takes far too much enjoyment in something like this to feel any menial sense of guilt toward you. Besides, it's not like you didn't have this coming. Despite all this, he knows you will take whatever gives you graciously because you are absolutely enamored with him.
(He thinks that, with a small smile. It's okay for him to say that, right? It's not like it's not reciprocated.)
"Yes?" He responds, slowly, teasingly. He can feel your thigh start to shake as a sign of your impending orgasm, so he starts to slow his thrusts—the tantalizingly sluggish drag of his fingertips across your walls give you a little more than nothing.
You could scream in frustration. He grabs ahold of your thigh and tugs it over his left leg, so that you don't get a chance to close your thighs are his hand—it makes it all the more torturous.
Your words are breathy and heavy on your tongue, "Yukki... lemme... please let me—"
His thrusts speed up, and his thumb begins to rub hard circles on your clit. Your chest heaves with each breath and you start to moan sweetly into his ear. You throw your head back, onto his shoulder and grip onto your skirt—but this time he does not stop. In fact, he seems to go even faster.
You can practically envision the smug expression he must have on his face at this moment—his ego fed and arrogance through the roof. "What? You wanna cum?"
Mindlessly, and desperately, you nod. White-hot fire starts to churn in your lower belly and it spreads to the tips of your toes when he keeps rubbing harder. You're getting close, with your stomach twisting and heart beginning to beat in your ears.
"Y—Yeah... please..." Somehow, you manage right choke that out and whimper right into his ear.
Your thighs begin to shake. He does not stop. "You wanna feel good, gorgeous? Go ahead." He presses a soft, chaste kiss to your temple—an almost laughable contrast to how you're nearly brought to tears by your orgasm, lower half shaking and rutting up into his unrelenting touch with a sense of desperation.
He likes it when you're desperate. It makes you all the more cute.
He helps you ride out your pleasure, all with a pretty grin. Your babbling thanks and praises for his fingers soon die down when your post-orgasmic haze hits you, and you lean back into his touch with low breaths.
After a few minutes of him just holding you like this, hand placed lightly on your thigh—you look up at him, then down, then back up again. "You want me to help you out with that?"
He seems to be slightly taken aback by your bold offer—despite moments before, he sported a cocky smirk and sultry gaze—but manages to gather his composure quickly enough to answer.
He shakes his head and gazes at you kindly, "Oh, you don't have to. I still need to teach you some more formulas—"
Your brows furrow and your remove your leg from over his. "Yukki—don't be like that. Lemme take care of you, okay? Yeah..."
A smile falls upon your lips as his cheeks grow pink. Even when your duck down below his desk—it feels all so surreal. Even when you tug down his grey sweats that did not hide anything, it almost feels like a figment of his imagination.
It no longer does when he feels the fiery enclosure that is your lips wrap around the redden leaky tip of his cock. Yukimiya slaps a hand over his mouth and squeezes his eyes taut shut. His heart is beating a million miles an hour in his chest. He feels like he cannot breathe, but the air gets knocked out his lungs all the same when your move your mouth down.
You use your hand to spread his pre around the base of him—jerking off what your mouth did not fit, until you go a little lower. He thinks his face may be on fire. The hand that does not cover the lower half of his face grips the edge of his table with full force.
He dares not to look down at you and dares not to catch the nasty, foxish gleam in your eyes.
You go down more, then back up. You press a chaste, loving kiss to the bulging tip, then, you go back down again. This time, a little further. You keep doing this until your jaw relaxes enough for your nose to press against the smooth skin of his abdomen—you allow your hands to wander his hard stomach.
"[name]..." His voice trails off shakily, a small moan escaping his lips as his hips jerk forward. You choke a little, but keep going. His glasses are growing foggy from his hot, heavy breaths and he doesn't think he's ever felt any hotter.
The room temperature must have shot up by at least twenty degrees. He feels searing.
Yukimiya's heart nearly beats out of his chest when you pull back once more, staring directly into his half-lidded, cloudy amber irises, and gave a sloppy kiss to the cute little freckle that was on the pulsing head of his dick.
His breathing picks up and his chest heaves. Fuck.
He groans aloud as your mouth sinks back down and your throat presses around his cock. His hips jerk forward again, and he takes this reaction as his opportunity to start thrusting. You suddenly sit still with your jaw as open as it would allow you to be—as Yukimiya lazily thrusts into your mouth.
His hand entangled itself into your hair and he grabs a tight hold of your head as he moves you to his heart's content. The wet choking noises that you make when your lips are snugly wrapped around the base of his cock give him butterflies.
He looks down at you, sweat beading on the side of his face and low grunts escaping his lips, "Ffffuck.... So... mmmm..."
He can hardly firm actual words—his head lolls back and his eyes shut in pure bliss.
Searing hot electricity zaps through his veins—his abdomen contracts, and it's a telltale sign he's getting closer. You use your tongue as much as possible while his thrusts are getting wild and erratic —his groans soon turn into desperate puffs of air.
"[name]...! Gonna..." His hot and heavy pants ring in your ears and his low groans are such a noise you'd never expect to come out of such a perfect pretty boy's mouth. He pants hard. "[name]...!! [name]...!!"
It seems your name is the only word he can formulate at the moment, when his cock twitches in your mouth and spurts of white shoot out the tip right into your throat.
He grabs your hair hard and presses you as close to his abdomen as you can get—hips shaky as you squeal and your throat instinctively tightens—the whine he lets out is something that will forever be imprinted into your memory.
You nearly cough it all up when he finally pulls out of your lips—breathing growing steady and shoulders relaxed into a calm posture—but you force yourself to swallow, and you give him the cutest smile you can possibly muster when you do.
Yukimiya stares down at you with hazy honeyed eyes filled with unbridled lust—hidden only behind the fogged up lens of his rounded glasses. "[name]... You..."
He looks embarrassed when you stick out your tongue at him and it is perfectly clean. He places a big hand on your head—a stark difference compared to his previous way of gripping your hair—he strokes it softly under his touch. "Good girl..."
He chuckles.
Yukimiya Kenyu looks absolutely debauched—you don't think you've ever seena prettier sight. His shirt is disheveled and his cheeks are a searing hot red. He is absolutely gorgeous.
That why, when you crawl up from your kneeling position, and he cradles your aching red knees when you place yourself flat on his lap, you kiss him with all the love you can muster. You do not feel much love—but all of the adoration you do feel is directed solely at Yukimiya.
"So, how did I do, Mister Tutor?" A teasing, coy smile places itself on your lips when you pull away, hand sneakily running itself all over his hard torso.
The smile he beams at you is nothing less than radiant. "A+."
© KENYUMMY 2024
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luboy7rt · 8 months ago
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 How Task Force 141 Would React to You Being Injured on the Field (GN - Teammate Reader Addition)
(Warning? Reader does pass out in one paragraph each, with no big details of any injury involved. Not much detail on the injury, just don't want to accidentally not warn someone of what is involved. So not many in-depth details on the injury :)
(Note:(GN - Reader. These can be seen as mostly platonic but can be seen as romantic and these are just my headcanons, feel free to disagree or agree, thank you) (INCLUDES: John Price, John 'Soap' MacTavish, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick and Simon 'Ghost' Riley)
Jonathan (John) Price:
- John is quick in dragging you off to a safe point, firmly placing you in a nice nook to ensure no stray bullets hit you. He does protect you, barking out orders for you to cover the wound and apply pressure as he focuses on killing the remaining enemies and makes sure the area is safe before helping you.
- Once it is ‘safe’ enough, he drops on one knee, questioning how you were ‘feeling’, scale of pain, how many injuries, just gives you a hell of a lot of questions to answer as he pulls out his small medical kit.
- He does basic procedures to ensure the wound wasn't fatal, disinfects and bandages as quickly and efficiently as he could as there might be enemies still around.
- He would question if you could stand, if not he has no problems helping you walk, looping his arm either over your shoulders or around your waist to pull you along to the evac point.
- You might owe him a drink, or two. He makes a ‘joke’ about it as you two walk (he isn't joking despite it coming off as one. You will end up paying for a round).
- He does take good care of you, ensuring you weren't in much pain, as he settles you into the evac helicopter, calling for a medic over comms when he could.
- He'd pat your shoulder or head and stay hovering near you until you get back to base, his eyes always coming back to check up on you.
- Depending on how much experience you have in the field, how many injuries you have had in the past, and how bad the injury was, if you were new to the team, he's a bit more ‘eh’ the medics know how to do their jobs but I'll stay nearby. If you are someone that has been on the team longer, he's sat by your side, rubbing your shoulder with one hand or the back of your neck, talking to you, questioning how you were. 
- If it's a ‘small’ injury, he's more relaxed, allowing the medics to do their jobs and not being that overbearing. 
- If it's a bigger injury? Good luck escaping his view, his eyes are on your wound while it gets patched up, ensuring everything goes smoothly while holding your forearm firmly in his grasp. His eyes would go from your injury to your face to see if it was affecting you badly or not. He forces himself to shut up, his jaw subtly clenched trying to let the medics do their job but he has to bite back comments of worry.
- If you pass out? He looks a bit surprised, his reflexes acting quickly catch you, his hand on your lower stomach and shoulder as he moves you to sit back in the helicopter, ends up sitting next to you the whole flight to keep you in place, he stays strong despite the silent worry in his eyes.
John (Johnny) ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
- He's antsy when you get injured in front of him, he swiftly deals with the enemy soldier that caused it, dropping down to your level and taking you into his arms. He asks ‘are you okay’ in many different ways, along with ‘where are yer hurt?’ a few times.
- His hands find your wound to apply pressure, or quickly bandage it, unable to clean it in the fast-paced situation, as enemy soldiers were still around, his main focus was simply getting the bleeding to stop and he would clean and bandage you up better later.
- He'd put his body between yours and the enemy soldiers, trying to block you from getting injured more while also firing back, trying to complete his job but also ensure you are protected.
- He would mutter to himself, as if to keep himself on track on what he had to do first, like a subtle ‘check-list’ on what to do, deal with this group of enemy soldiers, clean and re-patch your wound, run the hell to evac point. 
- He would gently brush his thumbs over your eyes if you cried due to the pain of your injury, quietly murmuring a bit of praise to keep you awake and aware before helping you up. He keeps a tight grip on you while his eyes check on you every few minutes before returning to look around his surroundings. His hand firmly on your back, rubbing slowly as his other hand held his sniper.
- If you needed him to carry you, he would. He would either throw you over his shoulder so he could rush to the evac point or hold you a bit more gently as tightly holds you.
- Once in the evac helicopter, he would let the medics do their job, him sorta being on autopilot as he watches over you. His hand going from the top of your head, to your shoulder, to gripping your forearm, to simply just grabbing at you. You were always in his grip, as if he was making sure you were still around and alright.
- If you pass out? He goes a bit pale, putting you down and yelling for a medic quickly, shaking you to try and wake you up. If you wake up, great, he’ll slowly calm down as he ensures you're safe within the evac helicopter. If you don't? He panics a bit, despite being trained not to, he can't help it when he knows a person so well, his own teammate. He ends up sleeping out next to you, his head on yours as the evac helicopter flies back to base, the medic having had patched you up and Soap there for support. But it wasn't known if he stayed with you for your own comfort or his own comfort.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:
- He stumbles after you, trying to make quick work to check if you were okay, tugging you down to hide behind a bit of stone. He loses all the confidence he had moments prior as he watched your pained face.
- He would quickly bandage your wound, going into simply just repeating what has been drilled into his mind over the years. He is quite quiet during this, going on his comms unit to request for a medic and backup. 
- His eyes softening and he lets out a quiet sigh of relief if you are awake and aware, he grips your shoulders, while keeping a firm eye out for any enemies about. He smiles at you softly as he crouched down right in front of you, giving a brief side hug before going back to protecting you until backup arrives.
- Kyle pulls you up gently when backup arrives, sneaking you out of harms way while trusting the others to handle the few remaining enemies about. He would give you a soft look while murmuring encouraging words, he doesn't want you to pass out on him, so he was really just rambling to try and catch your attention.
- Promises to buy you a snack, or a round, or any drink you want as long as you don't pass out (he ends up buying you anything even if you do pass out).
- If you do pass out, the look of ‘are you kidding me? I said not to’ Kyle had as he caught you, his arm around the back of your waist, to keep you leaning into him instead of landing on the floor. Kyle ends up dragging/carrying you to the helicopter.
- He sits next to you as a medic does their work, looking at the ceiling as he breathed out, he was sure that was maybe the most ‘scare’ he ever had in his career as he cared about you, you being his teammate, he spent about all his time with you and the other Task Force 141 members, his thoughts went to a horrid place. Thinking about what he would ever do if he lost you or any other member he was close with.. he felt ill at just thinking that. But when his eyes went to you, his eyes softened and he relaxed, shaking those thoughts away as he was simply glad you were alright.
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
- Ghost ends up killing the enemies who injuried you himself, having snuck you to a ‘safe’ hidden place in the battlefield before doing so. Having tossed his medical kit at you for you to care for your own injuries as He went off to deal with the dangers that still lurked around every corner.
- He comes back after about twenty minutes, silently watching you (if you managed to actually patch yourself up, he's more relaxed, calls you a idiot if you were too injured to patch yourself up) But Ghost leaned down to clean your wound then patch it up for you. Murmuring half- ‘insults’ but it was only out of care due to the fact he wasn't to sure on what to do with himself other than killing those who harmed you.
- There is indeed an awkward silence between the two of you as he patched you up, awkward eye contact, even more awkward touching. Ghost would quietly grunt at you. Shifting to help you up, if you stumble he sighs. Ends up just fireman carrying you or dragging you off, speaking calmly over his comms unit to get a evac helicopter on route.
- His hand would squeeze your shoulder, he wasn't one to like affection that much, but it was sorta like he was trying to keep both of you calm, he just wasn't sure how to show you..? He wanted you to know you could Indeed rely on him.
- If you pass out.. he forgets to catch you. You hit the floor hard as he made a silent ‘shit’ face under his mask, as he had been walking in front of you, having had not noticed until he heard the thud. He silently drags/carries you to evac point. He doesn't let a soul know he allowed you to fall.. he doesn't even inform you once you wake up. No one will ever know of this error.
- He keeps his hand firmly on you as he brings you to a medic, and watches their every movement, there was no room for error patching up one of his teammates.
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loveemii · 9 months ago
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𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑶𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒃!
༻𝐻𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠༺ | please excuse any mistakes |
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𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑦 𝑇𝑦𝑝𝑒: 𝑇𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖 𝑆𝑢𝑜ℎ
- Tamaki had always thought you were gorgeous, for a commoner
- You and him were in the same class together, he sat behind you, occasionally passing notes to get some answers he missed
- Overtime you two would just pass notes to talk, and that turned into walking out of class together; then to class together
- Eventually you and Tamaki began to date, but it had to be kept a secret ofc; if word got out that the prince of the school was dating someone in the school, it could end badly
(by badly i mean everyone will think you’re with him for fame)
- Secretly dating Tamaki means sneaking out of class and making out in the club room
- Or hanging out in the hedge maze until the school bell rang for the second time
+ spicy
- Sometimes when you two would sneak out of class to make out, it would get pretty heated
(meaning he’d occasionally run a hand under your bra, sometimes down your uniform skirt)
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐶𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑇𝑦𝑝𝑒: 𝐾𝑦𝑜𝑦𝑎 𝑂𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖
- Kyoya had been doing his research on you for sometime now, noting down your likes and dislikes, etc
- When he finally approached you it was after school in the garden where you normally read; he gave you a single white rose he found
- You two actual had a lot in common, like blood type; books and food tastes. He asked you on a date at your favorite restaurant
(which so happens to be his favorite restaurant too)
- On the date you two would read each other, profile each other; he’d even go as far as saying that you’ve liked him for a while now; and he wasn’t wrong
- After the date he’d call a limo to pick you two up, driving to your house first he walked you up to the front door and kissed your hand
- Making sure you went inside safely he’d wave you off from the car as he noticed you staring from a window; you waved back, he left you with a slight smile
+ spicy
- Dating Kyoya Ootori means having large areas to hang out alone together; mostly his family’s private beach or water park
(to make out ofc, and occasionally he’d go down on you)
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝑜𝑦 𝐿𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑎 𝑇𝑦𝑝𝑒: 𝑀𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑘𝑢𝑛𝑖 𝐻𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑧𝑢𝑘𝑎 “𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦“
- This was always one sided, thus Honey reminded you of your younger brother
- Every time he’d ask if you’d wanna eat sweets with him, you’d say yes; but he’d always bring up his romantic feelings towards you; which sorta ruined your appetite
- Don’t get him wrong he means well, but the fact that he is 17 and loves the same things as your younger brother a bit much
(no offense ofc but it could be weird if you dated him)
- He’d constantly give you bouquets of your favorite flowers though, and whenever he needed help in a class you’d help him
- Not to mention if anyone tried to physically hurt you, he’d be there to fight for you
- And anyways you two had sweets without him bring up his feelings again
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑖𝑐 𝑇𝑦𝑝𝑒: 𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑧𝑢𝑘𝑎 “𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑖“
- Morinozuka was never the talkative type of guy, he’s always quiet unless he is spoken to
(which he almost always nods or makes a reassuring sound that indicates he understands)
- He needed a tutor for a specific class and you were a voluntary student; sessions began after school in the library; you brought him tea on the first day
- Quickly Mori grew romantic feelings towards you but never knew how to express them; when he did it was quick and simple he simply spoke “I like you.” and left you to do the rest
- But when you two began dating, he’d talk a little more; asking how your day went or if you wanted to hang out
- Things in the relationship moved fast, but not too fast; although the both of you kissed on rare occasions you and him would get really shy over small things like eating in front of each other
- That quickly went away though and you two became more and more comfortable ever since Mori dropped condiments on his uniform, and how you fell out of your chair one time in class
+ spicy
- The closer you and Mori grew he’d become more confident like pinning you down by your wrists anytime you two made out
(and on some occasions he’d find his fingers inside you)
𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 “𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙“ 𝑇𝑦𝑝𝑒𝑠: 𝐾𝑎𝑜𝑟𝑢 𝐻𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑖𝑛
- Kaoru Hitachiin quickly knew he had feelings for you (his classmate) and unlike his twin brother he acknowledges it
- He’s a host so ofc he began to gift you followers before school, and even started to walk to school with you instead of taking his limo
- The more you got to know him the more your tiny crush grew; and when you two began to date he’d gift you even more gifts
(or surprises like going out for ice cream after school)
- When the two of you did go out; it was usually somewhere small in town like an ice cream shop or a restaurant you really liked there
- But when he took you shopping there wasn’t a budget he’d always tell you to get what you want, but ofc like the good girlfriend you are, you got stuff that was at a good price and never went over $100
- At school he didn’t really care if anyone saw you two together, as long as you two were happy that is all that matters to him
+ spicy
- Sometimes when the two of you were alone in the club room he’d go down on you on the couch
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 “𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙“ 𝑇𝑦𝑝𝑒: 𝐻𝑖𝑘𝑎𝑟𝑢 𝐻𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑖𝑛
- Unlike his twin brother, Hikaru is very bold in a relationship; he never told you how he felt because he was always in denial to himself
- So ofc it forced you to make the first move, and surprisingly he wasn’t too scared of the romance he had felt with you, and once he was more comfortable with himself he was all out
- Buying you dresses or cute clothes he knew you’d like, he’s a gift giver
(something he shares with his brother)
- And also he is a HUGE fan of pda, it’s his thing; either putting an arm around you in school or a kiss on the forehead as you walked into your class
- Also holding hands is an absolute MUST for him, he at least has to be touching you at all times in some kind of way
- Like holding your hand under a table or squeezing your pinky, or even having a hand on your thigh
+ spicy
- Speaking of thighs, he loves to give you hickeys on them; and in between them
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑇𝑦𝑝𝑒: 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑢ℎ𝑖 𝐹𝑢𝑗𝑖𝑜𝑘𝑎 (“𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑙?“)
- Haruhi didn’t completely know she had feelings for you, but she knew you were special to her
- So (like with Hikaru) you had to make the first move, and you explained to her that she feels the same way; you’ve always noticed the way she’s look at you
- The first week of dating Haruhi was hesitant to touch you, she thought it might make you uncomfortable but she got some reassurance when you first held her hand at school
- Ofc a few people were angry that you and Haruhi were together but you two didn’t care, in fact the both of you would make it even more known
(not to the extent though)
- Small things like kisses on cheeks, or leaning on each other in the garden as you read a book or while she studied
- And definitely laughing at people who would talk abt how annoying you two would be by making it public
+ spicy
- Haruhi isn’t really the type to do anything spicy or freaky but she’d have these thoughts that made her feel a little guilty and whenever you asked her what she’d be thnking abt she’d be so quick to say nothing and blush
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221bshrlocked · 1 year ago
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Keep Your Religion
Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Jedi AFAB!Reader
Words: 7630
Warnings: 18+ only. Starts off angsty then gets to the smut. Softer than usual Wolffe because that man would be madly in love when he finds his special someone. Lots of Kissing. Possessive Behavior/Words. Dirty/Sweet Talk..but mostly Sweet. Exhibitionism Kink if you like squint! Oral Sex (female receiving). Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Slight Breeding Kink. Wolffe is insatiable yall!
Summary: You try to end things with Wolffe because you fear your relationship will end badly due to the rules set in place for the Jedi and the Clones. Wolffe convinces you otherwise.
A/N: Can you believe I finished another fic? Neither can I. It was about time for another Wolffe fic so here you go my lovely humans. I hope you enjoy. Comments are always always always appreciated so let me know how I'm doing please and thank you. I do apologize that I'm not tagging, it hasn't been working for some reason since post editor changed permanently to this new looking editor. I'll try to figure it out I swear! P.S. this is the second of hopefully many more submissions for @clonexreaderbingo
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Something about seeing him so relaxed and loose tugged at the strings of your heart. It was a rare sight, one you thought he would only grace you with when the two of you are alone together. But here he was, throwing back whatever shit drink the bar offered him and his brothers, all the while smiling at Cody’s remark about the new shinies embarrassing themselves in front of Anakin and Obi-Wan. You’re nursing your own drink in the corner, trying to find the best possible way to approach the booth without making a scene. He’d told you before that almost everyone close to him knew of your relationship, but you felt weird about dropping the pretenses. You were his boss, after all. Well, not completely his boss, but a commanding officer regardless. If you started acting extra friendly, you’re not sure how the rest of the Wolfpack would take it. 
As you swirl the spotchka around, you suddenly feel like someone is watching you, hunting you even. There’s only one man who’s ever made you feel so heated and just as you look up from the glass in your hand towards the group of Clones you were previously studying, you notice Wolffe staring you down, the slightest hint of a smirk flashing at you in an attempt to get you to react to his attention. 
Normally, you’d enjoy the subtle flirtatious expressions, even tease him a little to get a rise out of him before escaping to the nearest room to lure him for a private moment. Or, as private a moment as 79’s can offer a Jedi Master and a Commander of the Grand Republic Army. 
But tonight was different. Tonight, you came out to the Clone bar to decide the best way to end things with Wolffe. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you didn’t want to push your luck any further. Things were getting worse by the hour, and you couldn’t afford losing Wolffe all because some assholes in the Senate didn’t think he deserved to love or to be loved by someone. Then there was the matter of the Jedi Council, and how strict they were becoming. It was already frowned upon before the war, and it only took a few months into this galactic conflict for them to push their ideologies even harder on everyone at the Temple. 
You would never forgive yourself if they punished him simply because you couldn’t stand being far away from him any longer. You narrow your eyes at Wolffe and down the rest of your drink, disappointed in yourself for not having the guts to tell him earlier. 
And for knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to do it tonight. 
The smile on his face drops instantly when he notices you avoiding his gaze, and you curse yourself for ruining his night. It was going so well, and one look at you made the worry return to his mind again. 
Clutching your robes tightly, you pay the bartender quickly before excusing yourself and heading towards the bathrooms in the back. You could feel the tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and the last thing you wished for is for someone to see you and make a huge fuss about it. As you push through the crowd, you feel those same pair of eyes hold you down harshly, as if they were refusing you permission to leave without confronting them.��
Quickly wiping your eyes, you push open the doors and turn around to lock them behind you, only to nearly bump into the chest of the man you were hoping to avoid tonight. You gulp nervously, and before you can say anything, Wolffe tilts his head to the side and studies you closely, his eyes roaming down your body to see if anything needs his immediate attention. 
When he finds nothing out of the ordinary, he takes a step closer to you and shuts the door behind him, not bothering to lock it as he continues to back you up until you hit the wall. 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to avoid me.” His gaze is direct, unfaltering in the haze of lust he was sending you under. You furrow your eyebrows and try to look anywhere else but him, but as always, he doesn’t give you the easy way out. Grabbing the bottom of your chin, he turns you until you have no choice but to look straight into his eyes and respond. 
“What if I was?” You’re not sure what pushes you to say something so defensive, but the chuckle it gets out of him makes you realize you had already lost whatever game he was playing with you. 
“I’d say you should have gone to another bar.” He’s right. You know this, and he definitely knows this too. The ease with which he continues to have an effect on you would normally be welcomed, but you’re pissed at him. Pissed for being so weak for him. For not bothering to put up a fight. 
“But here you are…at the one place you knew I was coming to tonight.” Wolffe leans down and nudges your temple with his nose, breathing in the scent of your sweat and perfume, and forcing you to reach for him so you don’t topple over from the sheer amount of control he has on you. 
“So tell me mesh’la, what have I done to deserve the cold shoulder?” He whispers the question in your ear, slowly sliding his hands down your body until they reach your waist. You’re having a difficult time breathing, and you moan his name as you throw your head back when he squeezes your hips and pushes his chest impossibly closer into your own. 
“I- you didn’t…it,” you can’t form a coherent sentence, let alone a sensical thought, when you’re so overwhelmed by his presence alone. You thought he would laugh at you, but when his breathing becomes nearly as erratic as your own, you understand that he was genuinely trying to figure out if he’s done something wrong. His methods seldom changed, and you weren’t surprised that he was trying to get you to talk by touching you as intimately as possible without tearing your clothes off. 
“Don’t tell me I did nothing wrong…sir. Something must have happened, or else you would be begging me to have my way with you right now. So what is it? What have I done?” Wolffe repeats again, making you feel guilty for your behavior and for what you’ve been thinking of doing since the last time you were together. You remind yourself that he deserves someone better, someone who wouldn’t compromise his position in the GAR all because of their messed-up religion. He deserved so much more than you. 
And the mere mention of your rank made it worse.
“W-Wolffe, I umm, I can’t do this anymore.” You know this was the last thing he expected you to say because in the blink of an eye, he’s removing himself from you completely and putting space between your shaking body and his own wound up chest. When you muster up the courage to look into his eyes, a shiver courses down your spine. 
It has been so long since he’s given you such a look, one that was filled with nothing but suspicion and guardedness. He’s quiet for longer than you like, and when you reach for him in an attempt to console him, his frown deepens and he twitches away from you. You hadn’t expected such a reaction to hurt this much, but it does, and like before, you have no control over the stream of tears rolling down your chin. Again, it’s not what he expects to witness from you, certainly not after what you just declared to him, and when you sniffle to get yourself under control, he closes the space between you more aggressively than before, slamming his hands on both sides of your face and clenching his jaws tightly when he sees you pouting at him. 
“I don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t. But I’m sorry regardless. I am so very sorry. Whatever it is, we can talk it out. It’s not worth throwing away all that we have. Please. Just- krifff…tell me what it is I have done, and I will get down on my knees right now and beg for your forgiveness. But don’t do this, don’t give up on us.” In all your time knowing Wolffe, you’ve never once heard him speak with such a tone. He was always assertive, confident and unwavering in his commanding presence. 
But the only thing you could feel now is his fear. 
“You did nothing wrong, it’s me…it’s all me Wolffe.” You know this won’t be enough for him, but you try to convince him regardless. Then he drops his head against your shoulder and you know you won’t be able to hold out much longer. 
“I wasn’t born yesterday sweetheart. If you’ve ever held an ounce of respect for me, you’ll tell me what I did wrong. You owe me that much. I- I deserve to know.” If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was close to breaking down as well. 
“I do Wolffe, I respect you…more than anyone. You have to know that.” You hope he doesn’t turn away when you reach for him again, and as you cup his cheeks in the palms of your hands to raise his attention to you, you’re met with an expression you never thought you’d see on his features. 
“You haven’t done anything baby, it’s me. It’s…all me.” If you were a better person, you would have been consistent in your tone with him, but seeing him so torn down broke you, and you couldn’t not soothe him the way you always did whenever he comes back from a particularly difficult mission. 
“You deserve someone better Wolffe, someone who would never compromise your safety. Being with me is- it’s getting dangerous. The Council is becoming more strict…the Senate even worse. If they court martial you because you’re with me, I- I don’t know what I would do.” There’s something so gut-wrenching about the way he refuses to look away from your moving lips, and when you stop talking, he doesn’t blink once, his cybernetic eye focusing in and out before slowly blinking along with the other.
“Someone better?” It’s clear that he’s still hurt by the word vomit you threw at him, but whereas his voice showed it earlier, the shakiness and reluctance is gone now, replaced with a menacing, almost angry tone that you were too familiar with, one that you’ve witnessed during battle when his orders weren’t obeyed immediately. 
“I can’t give you what you want Wolffe, not without hurting you eventually…unintentionally. My- my religion, it’s becoming a threat to your well-being. It’s not worth the hassle. I am not worth the hassle. You could do so much better than-” Whatever you’re about to say gets lost in the damp air of the room as soon as Wolffe decides he’s heard enough of what was on your mind. He grips your neck tightly, winding his other arm around your back and violently pulling you into his embrace as he swallows your surprised shrieks. Your frown deepens for another moment before you surrender yourself to the possessive kiss, and Wolffe must feel you melting into his arms because he growls against your lips and claims your tongue without remorse. 
His hold on you only grows stronger when he feels your arms move to wrap around his neck, and when he’s sure you’re trying to get closer to him and not push him away, he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, not caring for how messy or aggressive he’s being with you as he shoves his tongue past your lips and reminds you of what you could be missing if you got what you wanted and left him. 
As the need for air becomes difficult to ignore, Wolffe breaks the kiss and gives the two of you a moment of respite. When he opens his eyes and finds your orbs glistening with unshed tears, he swears beneath his breath and lunges for you again, the hand around your throat loosening for a fraction of a second before tightening around your jugular and forcing you to accept his rejection of your wishes. You moan into the kiss, allowing him to take whatever he wants from you, knowing that he wasn’t going to allow you to go through with whatever it is you thought you could get away with tonight. When he’s content with the reactions of your mind and body to his touch, 
“You nearly broke my heart, ner runi. Don’t ever say that to me again!” Wolffe refuses to let go of you, afraid you’d leave the room thinking that he agreed to the sentiment you dropped on him a second ago. When you say nothing in return, he shakes his head and crushes you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in to attempt and calm his nerves. He prays that you give him some form of an answer that confirms your understanding of what he just said, but when you don’t, Wolffe sighs heavily and pulls back enough to take a better look at you. 
“Wolffe, we need to talk ab-” Again, he doesn’t care for what you have to say and cuts you off, letting you know that this was definitely the end of the conversation. 
“No, we’re done talking. You can keep your religion sweetheart, I couldn’t care less for its consequences…but don’t you fucking dare and ask me to abandon mine.” His voice is firm, the familiar unyielding articulation confirming to you that he’s already made up his mind on the matter. There would be no more on the matter. 
As much as you hate to admit it, it feels like a bantha has lifted one of its feet off your chest. You look into his eyes and find them filled with a more familiar emotion, one that kept you going ever since you confessed your feelings to him. You thought it would be difficult to get him to accept your proposition, but you realize then and there that it was definitely harder for you to come to terms with your initial thoughts. 
You slowly smile at him, and it must be what Wolffe needs to hear to forget the last few minutes because his touches become less crazed and more soothing, a level of intimacy you’re always yearning for when the two of you are away from each other for too long. 
“And what...what is your religion?” You barely find the attention span to ask, the familiarity of his touch and his voice sending you down a spiral of lust-filled thoughts that only increased the longer Wolffe remained in your presence. 
“Your body is my religion cyar’ika, and I’m not planning on losing my faith any time soon.” The confession is lewd, mostly because he’s using your weakness to drive the message home. But as dirty as the admission sounded on his lips, you couldn’t help but sink into his embrace, wanting to hear more of him so you could forget about why you were here in the first place. 
“Is that s-so?” You’re practically shaking in his arms, and Wolffe uses your momentary distraction to tug your robes apart and leave a trail of kisses down your neck to where he wanted to bite you most. 
“Yeah,” he licks at your skin, wishing with all his heart he could have you right then and there. It’s not as if the two of you haven’t fucked at 79’s before. He just knew that you both needed something more, something that he can only accomplish in the privacy of his rooms. 
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to excuse myself for the night, tell the boys I have to finish reports for the General.” He slips a hand underneath the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your waist until you slowly begin to roll your hips into him. 
“Ahuh,” you’re not really paying attention to what he’s saying, your body already frozen with anticipation now that it felt his hands and his tongue leaving marks across it again. 
“Focus,” he squeezes your ass, shaking it twice to get you to open your eyes and look past the haze to obey his next commands. 
“Yes sir.” You bite into your lip and giggle when he narrows his eyes at you and mumbles something about punishing you for being a tease. 
“You’re going to leave shortly after, something about being needed back at the Temple.” Your stomach twists in knots when you realize he’s using his ‘Commander’ voice on you, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and mold your lips with his own when you remember the last time he used that same tone on you. 
What a night it was. 
“And where w-will I actually be going?” You ask as soon as Wolffe pulls you away and breaks the kiss. 
“My room baby, where you’ll stay for the rest of the night.” He says matter of factly, as if you shouldn’t even be asking his such a question. 
“Pray tell, Commander. What will we be doing that- oh kriff, that will require me to spend the night in your quarters?” You throw your head back when his hand slithers up your body and cups your breast through your Jedi robes. You can almost feel the heat radiating off the palm of his hand, and the harder he gropes you through your clothes, the more you wish he would just push you down on all fours and fuck you into oblivion. 
“Well, I don’t know about you sweetheart, but I’ll be practicing my faith...and worshiping every inch of your body until the only thing you can feel is me.” The smirk on his face would be menacing if you weren’t so used to it by now, and you gasp lightly when he leans down and bites the skin of your shoulder peeking from beneath your cloak. 
“Oh gods-”
“That’s it, moan for me cyar’ika. I want the whole fucking bar to know who makes you feel good.” Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and pushes his leg in between, slowly moving you back and forth on him to give you a preview of what’s to come tonight. 
“Wolffe, please. I need you.” You fall forward against his chest, whining for him as he continues to move you across his thigh and dares you to come from such a simple touch. 
“Oh, now you need me?” You know he’s joking without looking at him, but the question throws you off guard and you snap your gaze up to see if he was hurt by what you said previously. 
“I- I didn’t…I’m sorry.”
“None of that.” Wolffe shakes his head, not wanting to ruin the moment by something so trivial. He slows down his touches but keeps you moving on him, hoping to distract you long enough to make this night a little better for the both of you. 
“Wolffe,” you call for him again, not in warning but in desperation, hoping that he can see how sorry you are for ever doubting what the two of you had. 
“That was cruel of me, forgive me sweetheart.” His voice is soft, so much sweeter than before, and you’re reminded by how quickly his mood changes whenever he senses you’re upset or angry. 
“How could you ask that when I am the one who hurt you?” You should drop it, everything that he’s done is proof that you should let this go and get back to more important matters, but you can’t stop yourself from asking him, wanting to know why he’s always so patient and caring with you when he was the one who deserved better. 
“You didn’t hurt me, cyare.”
“I did, I- I almost…”
“You could never hurt me, little one. Never.” Like before, he doesn’t care for whatever you have to say, not because he doesn’t value your words, but because he knows how difficult your relationship with him probably weighs on your mind. 
Even from the beginning. 
You study him for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds. And you wonder how anyone could ever think him cruel and rude when he was so loving and unbelievably long-suffering. Without warning, you throw yourself at him, mirroring his actions from before and shoving your mouth against his own to feel grounded. He doesn’t waste a second, pushing you harder against the wall and sucking on your tongue until you were a moaning mess in his embrace. 
“F-fuck, if you keep that up, I won’t- kriff, I won’t hold back.” Wolffe rests his forehead against yours, trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t end up embarrassing the two of you by what his body is willing to do. 
“Then don’t!”
“You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone can walk in and see you getting filled with my cock?” He shouldn’t be surprised by how wanton you are, and although he knows he should step away and put some space between you and him, he can’t help but retort with his own teasing comment. 
“Please Commander.” You lean up and kiss his jugular, nipping at the skin just above his armor and soothing it with another kiss before laying your head back and meeting his intense gaze. 
“Always playing dirty. Just for that, you’ll have to wait.” Wolffe clears his throat and eyes you up and down before taking a few steps back. He barely manages to hold back from laughing when you stumble forward and nearly lose your footing. You’re about to complain when he raises a hand and silences you, furrowing his eyebrows at you in an attempt to look intimidating. 
“Another word, and I won’t give you my cock tonight.” He warns calmly, smirking immediately when you shake your head and tell him you’ll be good.
“No please, I’ll stop. I’ll behave, I swear.” 
“You’ll behave-?” The question trails until the room is silent again and you know instantly what you said wrong. 
“Commander.” You whisper to him as you try to fix your clothes and hair so you don’t look like you were fucked against a wall by the Commander of the 104th Battalion. You don’t dare smile at him, afraid he’d misunderstand the gesture for another one of your teasing expressions and completely throw the night away. 
“Good girl, now do as you’re told and I promise to reward you.” He watches you saunter past him and before you unlock the door, he smacks your ass quite harshly, watching you closely to see if you were going to behave or retort like you usually do. 
“Yes, sir.” You don’t dare give into his tricks, hoping to get through the next hour or so without getting distracted, or worse…caught. 
“Off you go.” He gestures for you to leave before him, and when you’re no longer in sight, he shuts his eyes and sighs in relief. Wolffe is not sure how the two of you got to where you are now, but considering the fact that he expected something like this to happen since you got together, he’s relieved that it was for reasons different from what his mind conjured up all those nights he spent alone in his bed. 
You walk out and move towards the bar again, your eyes roaming across the busy bar and waiting until Wolffe walks out before you make sure that no one noticed the two of you together. He follows you soon after, finding you almost instantly and winking at you before he heads towards his men. You watch as he tells Sinker to give him his helmet, and you assume they all roll their eyes not a second later because he told them he needed to get some paperwork done. 
But as soon as Cody looks at you, he knows what Wolffe is planning on doing, and before you can turn away from him, he raises his glass and smiles at you before downing the rest of his drink. You should be embarrassed at being seen, but something about the way the Commander gestures at you makes you smile, as if he was telling you that he hoped the two of you are okay. You shake your head at him and throw your hood up, walking to the Commander of the 21st Nova Corps to let him know you’ll be leaving earlier tonight. 
“Ah General, I was wondering when you’ll be joining us.” You smile at Commander Bacara and the boys, giving them a few credits to let them know the next two rounds were on you. 
“Sorry Bacara, I’m calling it early tonight. Needed back at the Temple!” You feel bad for lying to him, but as always, he doesn’t ask for an elaboration, telling you that he hopes you don’t have to do too much paperwork while you’re still on break. 
“See you later,” you nod at him and the others when they salute you, and just as you walk out of the bar, you vaguely hear them yell for the droid making its rounds to get them a round of quanya. 
“Hmm, didn’t peg them for the type.” You mutter to yourself as you step out into the chilly Coruscant air, looking around to see if Wolffe was anywhere to be seen or if he has already left. When you don’t sense his Force signature nearby, you make your way towards the speeder bike Anakin lent you and bring it to life, trying your best to contain yourself so you wouldn’t be caught by another Jedi nearby. 
You make your way through the streets as quickly as possible, and when you make it to the Temple, you park the bike nearby and think of the best way to make it through the barracks without being seen by any of the Masters…or Commanders. 
It’s not the first time you entered the barracks, and under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be strange to see a Jedi making their way through the hallways. But it was nearly midnight, and you weren’t sure you could lie your way through a question if you were caught before you made it to Wolffe’s quarters. You’re about to reach out to the Force to see if anyone is awake when you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. The familiarity of its warmness sets your mind at ease, and you take a deep breath before you turn to face him. 
“Commander.”
“General, is there something I can help you with?” He’s putting on a show for the surveillance cameras, and you clear your throat before you tell him something about wanting to review the plans for the next mission. 
“Very well,” he’s curt in his response, and you get the sense that he may be avoidant because he has about as much control around you as you do whenever you so much as hear the mention of his name. 
“Thank you, Commander Wolffe.” He nearly falters in his steps at hearing you call his name, and he swears beneath his breath as a way of warning. You nearly smile at his reaction, but you remember how closely the guards watch the cameras and you choose to switch your attention to the ground. Not another word passes between the two of you, and as you reach his room, you feel your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of finally spending a night with him. 
Up until now, the two of you had to make do with stolen moments and short breaks, whether on missions or back here. Neither of you have ever spent the night alone, and you find it fitting that tonight would be it. It’s comforting and nerve-wrecking all at once, and as soon as you step into his quarters, you allow yourself to take in the calm before the storm. 
Before the door slides completely shut, Wolffe is on you like a moth to a flame, nearly ripping your clothes off of your body as he pushes you down onto his bed. 
“W-Wolffe, I-” You try to ask him why he’s so frantic and crazed all of a sudden but he lets go of you and stands to his height, making quick work of his armor in record time all the while keeping you still with the mere look in his eyes. 
“I can’t do slow tonight, can’t wait another fucking second without having you.” You always admired how much care he puts into his armor whenever he’s taking it off or putting it back on, so seeing him drop each pass to the ground sends a zap of lightning down your spine. 
You mirror his actions without another word, throwing your boots and socks away before struggling to take your pants off. Moments later, you feel the bed dip once Wolffe crawls towards you, his muscles flexing in such a menacing way that makes you fall back into the sheets and wait for him to tell you what to do next. 
But then he says nothing, and you’re torn between asking him what he needs from you and letting you do whatever the fuck he wants. He reaches for the edge of your pants and tugs them right down your legs, not once blinking as he violently takes your sweater off and throws it somewhere behind him. You’re left in nothing but your undergarments, and as you twist your arms to take your bra off, Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and makes space for himself in between. 
“I need you, now.” His voice should terrify you, it should be enough of a warning for what he has in store for you. But you find it exhilarating, knowing that only you could get him to lose this much control. You try to reach for him, wanting to feel his skin beneath the tips of your fingers, but Wolffe shakes his head and grabs both of your wrists in one hand, slamming them above your head and tightening the hold he has on them while he slithers his other hand down your nude body. 
“If it were up to me mesh’la, I’d tie you to this fucking bed and have my way with you whenever I want. I’d- kriff, I’d fill you with my cum every minute of every fucking day…so everyone would know you’re mine…so they know that I’m yours.” He teases you through your panties, rubbing lazy circles across the damp spot quickly becoming larger. 
“Wolffe, please…take me.” You whine his name in desperation, hoping he’d finally give you his cock and end your misery. 
“I swear to the maker sweet girl, I’m going to fuck you all night long…kiss every inch of you, mark you with my teeth and hands until you’re my very own altar. I’m going to worship you baby, but only if you promise me one thing.” Wolffe slips his fingers beneath the flimsy material of your panties, rubbing at your clit furiously to get you to focus on him and him only. 
“A-anything…anything Commander.” You turn to the side and kiss his forearm, hoping he’d see how willing you are to do whatever he asks of you. 
“Pray for me.” As you look bite into his skin, Wolffe pushes his hard dick into your cunt, not bothering to give you a moment to get used to being so full before he starts fucking into you with sharp thrusts. You’re screaming his name instantly, arching your back from the sheer amount of pain and pleasure he was bringing upon you so quickly. 
“FUck, there we go…such a good fucking girl for me, screaming my name so sweetly. Go on ner Jetii’ika, tell everyone who fucks you like the perfect cockdumb whore you are.” He leans down and bites the top of your breasts, letting go of your wrists for a brief second so he can rip the last bit of clothing shielding you from his hungry eyes. 
“Wolffe…f-ffuck, oh gods…Wolffe!” You twist your fingers into his bed sheets, crossing your legs behind his back and whining for him when he descends down on you and sucks on your nipple. His hand seeks out your own, and when he intertwines his fingers with yours, he grunts and growls against your skin, reaching for the other breast and groping you harshly until the only thing you can feel is his tongue, and his hands, and his cock wreaking havoc on you. 
Wolffe knows he should slow down, perhaps be a little less demanding with you. But something about seeing you in his bed when everyone else is asleep makes him more possessive, more needy with your body. And it didn’t help how you were reacting to his advances, how completely you surrendered your body to him without so much as a question. He opens his eyes and roams them over your already bruising skin, and when he finds you wanting for more, he increases his pace and fucks you until you couldn’t even breathe out his name. 
You sense his gaze on you, and as you look through heavy-lidded eyes, you find him completely focused on your dazed expression. 
“Wolffe, I- I love you.” You’re not sure what makes you say those words now, but a voice in your heart told you this was the right moment. You’ve spoken before about what this thing between the two of you was, and you knew, as well as he, that this would be it. There would be no one else, not for him, and definitely not for you. 
But you’ve never actually said those words out loud. You’ve said it in the way you kissed him, in the way you gave yourself to him…and Wolffe had pretty much conveyed them to you with every stolen glance and every quick touch he managed to sneak when the two of you passed each other on the General’s ship. 
Like before, Wolffe hasn’t expected to hear you part with such a confession, now of all times. He falters in his pace for a brief moment before he sinks his cock into you and stills completely, wanting to be as close and connected with you as possible when he finally said what he’s felt for you since you introduced yourself to him. 
“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum…cyare.” You let out a quiet sob at the intimacy of the moment, and Wolffe wraps his arms around your neck and your waist to feel you against every bit of his skin. His thrusts are shallow, barely leaving you empty out of fear of losing this moment. You throw your arms around his neck and bring him flush against you, crying for him one last time as he seals your lips with his own and sinks into your wet cunt. 
The world comes to a halt around you, and all you can feel is Wolffe’s lips claiming your mouth just as he fills you with his seed. You come with him, shaking softly in his arms as his hot cum shoots into you and coats your walls with proof of his need to mark every fucking inch of you. It’s too much and not enough, and you push your heels into his ass in an attempt to bring him even closer to you. It’s not possible, you know that, but you want nothing more than to have him sink into your body until you weren’t sure where he ended and you began. 
Wolffe is fighting for his life, torn between giving you a second to breathe and quite literally stealing your breath to fill his lungs with your essence. He parts for a brief moment and looks at you, kissing your eyes softly before shoving his lips against yours again. You don’t dare ask him to give you a moment of respite, mostly because you’re sure you would miss him if he were to put space between your skin and his lips. 
Suddenly, the world turns around and you break the kiss unintentionally, gasping in surprise when he turns the two of you around until he’s laying on his back and you on top of him. You smile against his jaw when you feel his hands slide down your back and grab at your ass. As he starts moving your hips back and forth, you nuzzle into his neck and breathe in his scent, licking and kissing his skin the more he fucks his cum deep into your cunt. 
“W-Wolffe…”
“I’m not done with you yet, ner kar’ta.” The promise is both teasing and terrifying, but you can’t find it in yourself to hesitate, not when he was promising you the stars all night long. 
And he does, he brings you the heavens until you can no longer breathe without tasting the cosmos on your tongue. With every touch of his fingers, you beg him for more…more of his sweet words, more of his sinful kisses, more of his needy cock.
He fucks you until you lose your voice, and when he’s sure he’s rung your body of every ounce of pleasure it can offer him, he fucks you some more, filling your pussy until you were nothing but a mess, a mixture of his seed and your juices.
And then he pushes you down and parts your thighs to pull you apart with his tongue, and you feel that familiar heat rise in your chest all over again. You tug on his hair, torn between urging him to make you cum again and pleading for him to stop because you could no longer stand the pleasure. You were so sensitive, and Wolffe knew very well how painful the ecstasy was becoming, but some twisted part of him wanted to mark your cunt with his teeth and tongue as well. He wanted to devour you, body and soul. Your release comes in the form of a silent cry, and Wolffe laps up your mixed cum until you can’t take it anymore, softly pushing his shoulders away so he can slow down.
There is a lazy smile on your features, one that deepens further when you see Wolffe crawling on top of you and leaving a trail of wet kisses across your sweaty skin.
“Satisfied?” He dares to ask, lightly pinching your nipples when you don’t respond right away. You giggle at the touch, pulling him closer to you so he can kiss you some more. He melts into your body, roaming his hands across the tired muscles until he has no choice but to fall beside you.
You hum in response, studying his relaxed expression and laying the softest of kisses on his forehead before pulling him into your neck. Neither of you say anything, and only when your breathing steadies does Wolffe pull away to make sure you’re comfortable and asleep.
He sits up on his elbows and takes in his handiwork, biting his lower lip when he sees the bruises already forming all over your body. The contentment falters for a split second, but his worries evaporate when you sleepily reach for him and bring him back into your arms. He mutters his love for you one last time before surrendering to the comfort of your embrace, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as he rests his cheek on your shoulder. 
It’s hours later when you wake, and you groan tiredly when the sunbeams hit your eyes and make it difficult to escape them. You turn to the other side and peek through your lashes, only to find Wolffe already wide awake, softly touching the length of your arm with his lips and nose, as if he was tracing every little mark he left on your body from last night. He looks up when he notices your breaths coming in erratically, winking at you and smirking at the sudden spirit of shyness falling over your tired form. 
“I can taste the sunlight on your skin.” He moans against your clavicle, lightly nipping at the skin over the bone when you turn away from him and hide beneath the sheets. 
“Hmm…such a smooth talker.” You groan from underneath the shield you’ve created, giggling like a little girl when Wolffe tugs them away and attacks your face with playful nips and kisses. 
“Only for you cyar’ika.” He whispers into your ear before biting at the space just below it, his touches becoming less playful and more needy as he takes in the way your body is reacting to his advances. 
“Wolffe, your lips feel so good.” You throw your head back and sink your nails into the muscles on his back, gasping for air the longer Wolffe continues to mark you up. It’s almost as if he was looking for spots on your skin he hasn’t left his bite marks or fingerprints on. Not that you were complaining. 
“Just my lips, General?” You can hear the smile on his handsome face, and you nearly push back to edge him on, but you realize it would serve you better to give into him and tell him what he wants to hear. 
“N-no, it’s everything you do to me Wolffe. It’s in your touch…your- your voice…your cock.”
“My little Jedi can’t get enough of me.” He shifts you in his arms until you’re laying on your stomach, and when you try to look back to see what he has in mind, he combs his finger into your hair and pushes you into the pillows until he has access to your back. When he hears whine his name, he descends down on you like a crazed man, sinking his teeth into the skin he wasn’t able to reach last night while pulling on your hair to remind you who was in charge. 
“Oh gods…never, Wolffe. Never. I want you all the kriffing time, even now…I just want you to- to,” you forget what you want to say, the need to commit this moment to memory outweighing whatever information your mind wanted to part with. It must be the reaction Wolffe was wanting for because he chuckles against your heated skin and finishes your thought for you. 
“Claim you?”
“Please.” You try to push the sheets away from you so you can feel him against your back, and Wolffe lets go of you for a split second to let you do whatever you wish, returning flush against you once you’re completely nude to his eyes. He’s on you in the blink of an eye, teasing you with the head of his hard cock while keeping a firm hold on your hips so you don’t move against him.
“Can’t really do that now, can I mesh’la?” He struggles through his words, his hungry eyes picturing all the things he still wants to do to you as you lay there beneath him, willingly submitting your entire self to him without a second thought. 
“You’re already mine, little Jedi. You’re mine, have been since you came here all those months ago and told me you wanted me.” He massages your back with his calloused hands, trying to come to terms with the fact that he will never be close enough to you. He’ll never get tired of this. He’ll never not want to touch you with everything he’s got. 
“But since you plead so sweetly,” you moan into the sheets as you feel him part your thighs and slowly sink his cock into your swollen cunt, keeping you filled to the brim and refusing to move until you begged some more. 
“Wolffe...” You reach back and tug on his hair to bring him closer to you, the need to hear what you do to him igniting a flame in your chest, one that only he could put out by showing you how much he craves you. 
“F-ffuck, you’ve ruined the mornings for me cyare. Now I- I won’t stop thinking of your wet, tight pussy when I…kriff, when I wake up.” Wolffe bites into your shoulder as he rolls his hips into you, no longer able to control his desires from you. He wanted you to know the effect you have on him, the hold you had on his very soul ever since you walked onto his ship and offered your aid all those months ago. 
“I’m yours Commander, always. Y-you can have me whenever you want.” You sigh heavily when he growls against your skin and continues to fuck into you without caring for how rough he’s being. 
“E-even at sunrise, General?” Wolffe chuckles as soon as your cunt clenches tightly around him at the mention of the honorific, letting you know that he enjoys calling you by your rank as much as he does when you moan his. 
“Especially at sunrise-” You barely manage to breathe out, smiling through the assault he was bringing on your body as you surrender yourself completely to him.
“My little tracinya,” Wolffe nuzzles into the crook of your neck, content with the way you seem to melt the harder he fills you with his cock. A part of him knows he should maybe discuss the incident from last night, but he finds it difficult to pay any mind to your words when he already has you so willing and wanting beneath him. 
Later, he would consider the little issue of your religion later. 
But for now, he was adamant on showing you his own.
388 notes · View notes
feverishly-kpop · 9 months ago
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Feverish Ateez Headcanons
Hongjoong
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Hongjoong simply doesn’t have time to be sick. Ironically, however, it’s his workaholic tendencies that wear down his immune system, leaving him vulnerable to whatever bug is going around. He’ll try to hide it but won’t make it very long because, when he gets sick, he gets SICK. It’s never just a cold, it’s a full blown flu. Never a slight fever, but a shivering-sweating-can’t get out of bed-somebody make everything stop spinning fever. Despite the severity of his illness, Hongjoong needs constant reassuring that work is continuing to get done and that his dongsaengs are taken care of. Seonghwa has been known to instruct the rest of the members to stay tight lipped around Hongjoong when he’s sick, not wanting to stress him out any more than he already inevitably is.
Seonghwa
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Putting himself first is a concept foreign to Seonghwa. If a member is sick it’s almost a guarantee that Seonghwa will be at their side making sure their every need is met, even when that means sleepless nights and long days. As far as he’s concerned, that is his job as the oldest hyung, but it’s only a matter of time before he has pushed himself to the brink emotionally and physically and falls miserably ill himself. Even then, however, he’ll keep testing his limits until he is incapable of continuing, at which point he will retreat to his own room where he’ll attempt to reject any efforts taken by the others to care for him. That is, he’ll try until Hongjoong pulls rank as leader, leaving Seonghwa no other choice but to acquiesce.
Yunho
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Yunho absolutely hates feeling vulnerable which pairs very poorly with the fact that his fevers come on quickly and always run high - high enough that he immediately feels sluggish and dazed as soon as his temperature starts rising. That’s why Seonghwa or Hongjoong tend to realize that Yunho’s sick before Yunho realizes it himself, but from there things go downhill rapidly, leaving him achy, confused, and all around miserable. The members know to handle a sick Yunho with kid gloves, fully aware that Yunho likely has no idea what is going on around him. Seonghwa seems to have the magic touch when it comes to getting him to settle down, especially after he’s woken up by a particularly disquieting fever dream or nightmare.
Yeosang
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A sick Yeosang is a grumpy Yeosang. The members can always immediately tell when he’s coming down with something because his usually sweet demeanor turns sour at the drop of a dime. The minute that he’s sent home from work or sent back to bed he makes no effort to hide how resentful he is. Of course he knows that it’s nobody’s fault that he is sick but that doesn’t change how frustrated he gets when he’s feeling “left out.” Everybody knows to give Yeosang time and space to sulk but, by the end of the day, either Wooyoung or Jongho has climbed into bed with him, partially because they know how badly the chills hit him when he has a fever, but mostly because nobody can stand seeing him so upset for too long.
San
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San truly and honestly does not know when to stop. Even if he did, he doesn’t particularly know how to stop. He will continue to work through just about anything until his body finally quits on him. Best case scenario - he sits down and can’t get back up again. Worst case scenario - he faints. Both of which the members have witnessed too many times. Each and every time San thinks the embarrassment of this episode will be enough to keep him from going too far again, but somehow it never does. Once he’s been tucked safely in bed where the team knows he can’t do any further damage to himself, it usually only takes a matter of minutes before Yeosang or Wooyoung receive a text sheepishly asking them to come lie down with him so he has somebody to hold while he sleeps. Unless Yunho’s already asleep, in which case San simply invites himself into Yunho’s bed and wraps his arms around him, often times not even stirring Yunho awake.
Mingi
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When Mingi is sick he just wants to be left in peace, quiet, and solitude. He’s insecure about letting people see him sick. It feels too close to showing weakness for his comfort. He knows it worries the other members but it is just easier that way for him. Mingi tends to push his boundaries. It isn’t that he doesn’t know what his boundaries are, he is extremely self aware in that respect. He simply values his art over just about everything, often including his health, and struggles to apply the brakes when he goes too far. But once he’s able to ground himself again he’ll see to it that he has what he needs and surrender to some rest. The members have come to respect his need for space, even the hyungs who fought him on it for quite some time before meeting in the middle - as long as Mingi was actually taking care of himself they’d allow it, with the caveat that the door opens if and when he gets too sick to be alone. Luckily for him, however, his symptoms tend to be milder than some of the other members when he falls ill.
Wooyoung
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Wooyoung is rubbish at listening to the signals his body gives him when he needs a break and coming down with a fever is no exception. He’ll work until Hongjoong, Seonghwa, or Yunho realize that something is off and bench him, which will make him emotional 110% of the time, convinced that he’s being forced to sit down because he was underperforming and disappointing the rest of the team. His emotions typically remain dysregulated until his fever breaks and the members have a difficult time calming him down once he’s upset. They can always count on lots of tears. Without fail, he craves attention from Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yeosang and wants nothing more than to cuddle and, of course, nobody can say no to Wooyoung.
Jongho
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Do. Not. Baby. Jongho. He is independent and that doesn’t change in the slightest when he’s running a fever. He’ll avoid his hyungs at all costs and, when he does happen to come across one as will inevitably happen despite his best efforts, he tends to be distant, citing somewhere he has to be to do something important that he’s running late for. Eventually he’ll break though, once he’s worn himself down enough. Then he’ll slink back home and snuggle into the side of the closest hyung he can find. Jongho doesn’t have to say a word, they all know by now that this is standard operating procedure when Jongho isn’t feeling well. He truly doesn’t care which hyung he finds first, as long as they don’t say “I told you so.”
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kaigarax · 1 year ago
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Absolutely Bright
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Geto Suguru x Reader
Quote: "Fall in love with someone when they're soft and gentle."
“Would you die if someone told you to?” You asked, the back of your hand brushing up against Geto’s as the two of you continued onwards, the silence of night blaring loudly.
Geto looked at you, a frown pulling at his lips, “what’s this about?”
“No, you wouldn’t. Right?”
“Well I don’t imagine anyone would simply just agree to dying.”
“Yeah,” you hum, “that’s what I thought.”
---
Geto Suguru has never been much of a drinker. Never saw a need to willingly put foul tasting liquid in his mouth just for the sake of losing all sense and all feelings of control.
You and Gojo, on the other hand, don’t seem to have quite the same sentiments. Willingly indulging in the foul tasting drinks as if you need it to survive. As if it’s a necessary task that needs to be completed in order to be a proper teenager. A task that neither of you seems to have too many qualms over.
Usually both you and Gojo are dragged back to school by Geto after a long night of him sitting in the back. Tonight though, it seems only you have gone beyond your typical limits as you stumble into him as he has his back pressed to the back of a wall.
��Geto.” You say, his name coming out slowly.
“Still alive, (L/n)?” Teases Geto.
You sigh, taking a seat against the wall beside him, “unfortunately.”
“Dying never really has been your forte, huh?”
You look up at him from your seat on the ground, “you don’t even know.”
Your eyes, despite being clouded over, seem to peer into his very soul. So bright and brilliant and swirling with gold. Almost like the very night sky.
Like Gojo you’d been blessed with eyes that see more than the normal person’s. And with eyes that see brilliantly come an appearance that is also brilliant. Geto can barely count the number of people that have been entranced by such eyes. He, himself, has always been rather immune to the beauty of eyes but always finds himself shocked at just how deeply you always seem to look at him. Almost as if you regarde him with a warmth and brilliance that he’s unaware he possesses.
Geto has to shake his head to pull himself from the grasp you’ve unknowingly placed around him.
You drop your head to your lap and sigh.
Geto reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver lighter.
He doesn't actually smoke much, mostly carries it around for Shoko, but sometimes it helps to numb the bitterness in his mouth. More numb than it is badly tasting. Sounds like a brilliant idea as he drops down to take a seat beside you against the wall.
The white stick feels so brittle and fragile as he brings it up to his lips before lighting it up.
The sound of the lighter flicking seems to catch your attention as you look up at him overtop your arm.
“Those kill you, ya know.” You say.
You always tell Shoko the same thing whenever you see her smoke despite the fact that she never shows any sign that she plans to stop. Geto thinks that you mostly tell her now out of habit. That it’s not really something either of you think too much into and the thought is amusing. A sort of pattern that your friendship has fallen into.
Geto laughs, breathing in a drag, “I know.”
You bring a hand up to your uniform, pulling a few buttons loose before moving to pull your hair loose. You had put it up nicely earlier in the day but it seems that the heat has begun to get to you.
You always put a lot of effort into looking nice and presentable.
Geto thinks you look pretty with your hair loose.
Has to force himself to look away.
He holds the cigarette in his hand, staring at the red end of the blunt. It’s almost pretty as it slowly disappears - transforming into ash. Not pretty in the traditional sense but pretty in the way that broken glass is as it glitters in the sun. Something that’s only pretty when you’re in an intoxicated state of mind.
You move quicker than he thought you could as you snatch the cigarette from his hand.
Geto thinks that you’re going to throw it away so it surprises him when you bring it up to your own lips as you breathe in.
His heart flutters treacherously.
He can see the hint of a tattoo you have over your collar bone as your unbuttoned blouse folds over itself and hangs low, showing off the tanktop you wear underneath. He didn’t know you had gotten a tattoo though he isn’t all too surprised either. You always went out of your way to do small and subtle things to rebel as most teenagers did.
He can barely make out the word Absolutely in dark ink sprawled over your collarbone.
Your hair hangs loosely around your shoulders as you look up at him with those dazzling eyes. Geto thinks that he might be stuck here for an eternity, staring at you like this.
Then you break out into a cough.
Geto laughs, “first time?”
You pout, “don’t be mean.”
He pulls the cigarette from your grasp before dropping it to the ground and stepping it out.
“How do you and Shoko smoke that?” You asked, “it’s horrible.”
Geto shugs, “some people are just able to handle bad tasting things.”
“Ha,” you laugh, “bad tasting things,” as if it’s simply just another thing to say.
At one point in his life, Geto might’ve laughed too. Might’ve leaned down and brushed your hair back before kissing you on the lips. Might’ve even enjoyed the fluttering of his heart as you look up at him. But not all people are meant to stay the same - just as not all things are meant to stay exact.
“Do you have any siblings, Geto?” You ask suddenly.
“Hm?”
“I used to have an older brother and sister, you know.”
Geto looks at you gently, watching as you push back a loose strand of hair and turn to face him, “how did they ever put up with someone as annoying as you?” He knew that your father had quite a few kids but he had always been under the impression that you were the oldest. It was almost… surprising.
“I’ll have you know that I was an excellent younger sister.” You exclaim, “they love me.”
“I bet they do.”
“Well,” you look down, “at least they did.”
Geto’s heart pangs at the sad look you get. He feels guilty for something he’s had no control over. Almost feels as though the sadness you’re feeling is his own. Figures it’s probably time for you to head back as he turns around and kneels down, his back to you.
“What?” You ask.
“Get on.”
“Why?”
“I’m taking you back.”
You pout, “but I don’t wanna go back,” despite wrapping your arms around him.
Geto chuckles as he wraps his arms around your legs and props you up, “I think you’ve partied enough for one night.”
“Hm,” you grumbled as you rested your head on his back.
Geto slowly makes his way through the room before he finally spots Gojo. Gojo seems caught up in his own adventure at the moment - just barely making enough time to look up at Geto to smile and laugh.
Geto gestures to you before moving his head towards the door.
He doesn't really know if Gojo understands him or not but he doesn't wait too long to figure it out. Shoko’s still here and Geto can always come back and pick him up after dropping you off if things (Gojo) get too out of control.
It’s a lot quieter outside.
There’s less and less people as he makes his way back.
The cool night air has you leaning close to Geto for warmth.
The night skies are pretty. They’ve always been pretty but never something Geto actually thought much about. So far away and out of reach.
Geto hums gently to himself, the noises of night as his accompaniment.
Such a lovely world they’ve been born into. Even with curses and pain and suffering.
“Geto.” You say, your voice soft.
Geto’s humming abruptly stops as he feels you pull back slightly.
Was it bothering you? Did you find it annoying?
“You don’t like me very much, do you, Geto?” You asked.
Geto, whose arms are wrapped securely around you, laughs gently, “what makes you say that? I’m carrying you home in the middle of the night. I wouldn't do this for just anyone you know.”
“You’re only doing this because Satoru asked you to take care of me tonight.” You say, resting your head on his back.
Satoru.
You call him Satoru while he’s just Geto.
“I thought you were the one that didn’t like me.” Geto hums.
“Really?” You gasp dramatically, “what made you think that?”
“You never talk to me first.” Geto’s gentle voice is a contrast to your own intoxicated one, “always go out of your way to avoid partnering up with me and complain whenever it’s just the two of us assigned to a mission.”
“That’s because I’m embarrassed when I’m around you.”
“Are you now?” Teases Geto.
You nod, “of course. Everyone’s embarrassed when they talk to the person they like - like. And I, my good sir, happen to like - like you.”
Geto frowns, “you’re drunk, (L/n).”
“It doesn't matter anyway because you don’t like me.” You huff, “I’m just the transfer student in your eyes. Shoko’s an expert in reverse cursed energy while you and Satoru are the strongest. Poor ol’ me is left behind.”
“You’re not just the transfer student, (L/n).”
You will never be just the transfer student to him.
“You’re right. I’m also (L/n) to you. Next head of the (L/n) clan.”
Ah yes, the great (L/n) clan. Known for their cumulative abilities. Despite not being the eldest your father had determined that it would be you that would get to claim the great inheritance that is becoming the next leader. Unlike your siblings, you’d been born with the stars in your eyes; an ability only seen in your family once every few generations. So, after years of being trained and prepared by members of your Clan they shipped you off to Jujutsu School in hopes of giving you experience in the world before calling you back to fulfill your purpose.
Geto never really knew much, apart from what Satoru and Shoko had told him - and all their information had come from you.
He wonders what your father would think if he saw you now?
Well you were certainly getting your fair share of ‘worldly experiences’.
He feels a little guilty as the weight of your words sink in. He knows that you aren’t the closest with your father and your relationship is complicated. Well more complicated than normal families.
Geto’s frown deepens, “that’s not what I mean.”
“Then why’d you use my surname?” You pout, “you call Satoru and Shoko by their given names while I’m just (L/n).”
“Well I’m just Geto to you.” The sudden outburst is uncharacteristic of Geto. It has him suddenly halting his movements in surprise. He didn’t expect the words to come out so harshly. Didn’t think that he was capable of saying something so brash and cold.
And to you of all people.
An apology quickly forms in his mind but gets caught in his throat - as things usually do when it comes to you.
Your hold around him softens as you laugh, “Suguru.”
Your voice is so soft as you say his name. So warm and gentle. Geto isn’t certain he’s ever heard anyone say it in such a way before and it sends his heart racing. It feels so different from any other time he’s ever heard it from your lips. Or anyone else for the matter. Actually, Geto’s pretty certain this is the first time he’s ever heard you use his given name.
“(Y/n).” He says in response, slowly and calmly in hopes of masking the erratic beating of his ever treacherous heart.
“That’s not my name.” You say.
“It isn’t? But it’s what everyone calls you.”
“It’s my name but it’s not my real name. It’s what my mother wanted to call me but my father said otherwise.”
Geto laughs softly, “and what would you like me to call you?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I want to be your tomorrow.” You hum, nuzzling into the back of his neck, “I want to be all your tomorrows.”
Fall in love with someone when they’re soft and gentle.
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chuuya0bsession · 3 months ago
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Hi! I just discovered your blog and I love it! You're really good at writing, and I'm nut sure if you accept requests but if you do could I ask a chuuya x secretary fem reader?
Thank you!
Omg thank you, you don't know how much that means to me!^^ I'm not sure if you wanted a oneshot or headcanons so I did both! I hope it's good enough :3 𓈒 ﹒ ⟡ 𓂂 ˚ ⟡ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ⟡ 𓂂 ˚ ⟡ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ⟡ 𓂂 ˚ ⟡ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ⟡ 𓂂 ˚ ⟡ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ⟡ 𓂂 ˚
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HEADCANONS FOR CHUUYA X SECRETARY!FEM!READER
━━━━━
Before y'all were a thing...
You were his personal secretary—an innocent, non-ability user with no actual connection to the Port Mafia
Your job mostly involved managing his schedule and taking care of some basic paperwork
Every morning, he’d walk in and pass you, and you’d flash him a polite smile and say good morning
At first, he didn’t think much of it; he just assumed you were being friendly since you were new and didn't even acknowledge you
But your smile was completely genuine, and once he figured that out, he couldn’t stop thinking about you it
He actually started looking forward to seeing you, whether it was later that day or the next morning
On your side, you thought he was pretty attractive (duh, he's Chuuya fucking Nakahara)
You even developed a bit of a crush on him. But, deep down, you knew there was no way your relationship could go beyond what it was...
After a few months, your small greetings were acknowledged and returned
And whenever you saw him throughout the day to give him some paperwork or tea or whatever (I headcanon that he drinks tea for his hangovers or headaches) he'd make small talk with you
the sudden change surprised you, really
soon enough he couldn't stop wanting to know more about you, what you were like, what you liked, disliked, etc...
and a small friendship between the two of you blossomed :3
But of course, there was drama...
You thought being one of the port mafia's EXECUTIVES secretary was easy?
When you know just about everything about him- including the fact that there are multiple people after his head? I don't think so.
So the only way for his enemies to get to him without being dropped on the spot was through you :3
So instead of his enemies going after him, they were after you!
And it really concerned Chuuya
Like really badly
To where he'd walk you home every night when you were done with work for the day (Like a gentleman 🤭) One time, you had tried to go by yourself because you felt bad for distracting him from his work, and just because you felt bad. You ended up getting attacked by some guy who had been on you for a while now because he was an enemy of Chuuya. Luckily, Chuuya was smart enough to figure out that you probably tried to walk home alone without him and went looking for you. Just when he had finally found you and was about to call out to you, a man, coming out of nowhere, grabbed you quite harshly and pressed a knife to your neck before you could even scream. Ofc Chuuya beat the guy to a pulp before he could hurt you :3 He immediately checks if you're hurt and if you're okay. When you say you're fine, he slightly relaxes. "The hell were you thinkin' going home by yourself when you know people are after you?" He would say while putting his coat over your shoulders and putting his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you home...
He's super protective of you now, to say the least.
After he asked you out...
Okay, for starters, the PM (obviously) strictly does not allow dating.
So yours and Chuuya's relationship is a secret
Nothing changed at work and you both agreed that the lovey-dovey couple stuff stays outside of work to avoid suspicion
Staying over at his penthouse was common for you
You'd wait for him to come back home from there since (again) you get off of work a few hours before him
I feel like Chuuya would be really sensual with you whenever had the chance to
Like taking a warm bath together. Having a quiet dinner somewhere fancy or just simply secluded. Or just long meaningful conversations while he holds you securely in his arm and the few occasional kisses on the forehead or temple. Yk, small yet sweet things like that.
When he kisses you, it's either on the forehead or your temple, but when he really has time to relax with you, his kisses are always slow and sensual (Ik, I'm over-using the word, Mb) and full of love
Biting kisses, French kissing, neck and body kisses, and hand kisses (idc, y'all can't convince me that this man doesn't do any of these)
Overall, he's the best bf (ofc) you could ever ask for.
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sorry guys, gonna keep this one sfw it was a bit rushed bc I was eternally struggling with it + I had to write a long ass essay for school (they got me so fucked up bro)
Hope you enjoyed tho^^
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widevibratobitch · 1 year ago
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Ok. Any "Terror" fic recommendations?
good lord YES countless really. idk what you're looking for specifically though.
i myself am a fitzier girlie first and foremost with some occasional fitzconte thrown in. i'll best direct you to my ao3 bookmarks, specifically to the tag i keep for my personal favourites, the crème de la crème of fics I've read and liked.
some examples under the cut.
i am a connoisseur of ✨fitzier hatesex✨ and there's surprisingly not that many of those compared to fics where they're all lovey-dovey with each other (which. dont get me wrong. i also enjoy from time to time). so i'll give you some that have truly stuck with me. it's mostly pwp sorry not sorry.
Some lovely perilous thing by cosmogram
“Oh,” James gasps, and really, it’s almost too easy. James ought to have some modicum of shame, ought to be able to master himself better than this—better than turning to a doe-eyed dissolute the second a man so much as breathes near his eager young cock. “Not here, Francis,” James pants out, voice already hitching high. “The great cabin, at the very least.”
“Here, I think,” Francis returns crisply. “On your knees.”
it's just so fucking good. very hot. i honestly don't know what else i could say about this, it's one of my personal favourites amongst personal favourites (along with the one i link next, from the same author).
Devotion by cosmogram
Francis does not seek him anymore, but neither—still worse—does Francis bother to dismiss him when James arrives of his own volition, each time with all the hope of the most wretched fool. “Oh, get to it, then,” Francis muttered with sublime disinterest that very day when James appeared in his cabin’s doorway. James had, in fact, come to talk—but he had not hesitated when Francis gestured dispassionately to the front of his trousers. He had dropped, wordlessly, to his knees to obey.
everyone give it up for erectile dysfunction! hip-hip hurray! the author sums it up well with the James Fitzjames’s Tragically Unmet Praise Kink tag. this one is a little more on the sad side, Francis is being a goddamn gremlin and James is at his most needy and pathetic. nothing hotter to me personally than sucking someone's limp dick and crying about it. i find myself thinking about this fic an ungodly amount. i love it so much. again, best of the best of the best.
nice dream by icicaille
Francis swirled the last dregs in his glass and peered into its depths. Some kind of grim satisfaction had come over him. “I’ll tell you what you want to hear,” he said. “For a certain price.” It was foolhardy beyond measure. Damning, even.
basically, Fitzjames gives Crozier a blowjob in exchange for Francis telling him some nice reassuring things he needs to hear so badly it makes him look stupid - malicious compliance from Francis of course with some nice internalised homophobia. James is, again, pathetic as all shit with a little twist at the end. no one is having a good time except for me of course.
hunger's vocabulary by icicaille
“Ah, Sir John.” Francis cleared his throat once the wardroom was near to empty. “May I borrow James? Regarding the Lloyd’s balance. We took readings that require further inspection. I’ll send him back in a gig—tonight if the weather holds, in the morning otherwise.”
chef's kiss. just two cunty cunts going at it (the dialogues are so good...) with a sprimkle of some angsty self-loathing Francis. what more could you ask for.
you are coming down with me by dazydaisy
Chapter one: “If I loved you I could perhaps fuck you as if I hated you, in order to please you, but, as you are surely aware by now Fitzjames, you and love are oil and water to me.”
Chapter two: ‘Maybe,’ James had begun to unlace the front of his trousers with a carelessness he had (shamefully) practiced, ‘if you loved yourself even a little you would be able to stop yourself from doing as I command. But, as I’m sure you know by now Francis, you and love are like oil and water. The two simply do not meet.’
*
Mum and dad are fighting again
pretty much what it says on the tin. just two heartbroken bitches fucking and being cruel to each other and im eating that shit up thanks
A Willing Foe and Sea-Room by ClutchHedonist
“Nnh.” Fitzjames whines around his thumb.
“None of that. Clearly, you can’t shut your own bloody mouth to save your life.” Francis huffs, “So I’ll shut it for you.”
pre-canon. Fitzjames - still as a baby lieutenant - and Crozier have a brief but very hot encounter during some Admiralty Party.
Caïssa by cosmogram
“You said you had a question,” Francis snapped, irritable already.
“Yes,” James said, flushed and resplendent still from the company next door—undaunted and loose-limbed in just the way that plucked cloying ire from a raw place in Francis. “How’s your chess game?”
A seduction.
a little bonus to the list, because i love this fic and it recently updated after a very long hiatus (it's still a wip tho but i hope the author manages to finish it, they're one of my favourite writers in this fandom). no hatesex here, it's more of a slow-burn with past Crozier/Ross and really great dialogues, as always. Neptune also makes an appearance.
Bespoke by ktula
James is trying to escape his grief after Sir John's death. Francis, in his own way, is trying to do the same. OR: The one where James Fitzjames has a bit of the genders, and his captain is surprisingly accommodating of that.
ending this rec list on a kinder and softer note, as a treat. this was one of the first fics ive read in this fandom and still one of my favourites. not really hate sex though they're still rather uncertain and wary about the other. very good, very sensual, gender-heavy. beautiful fic really.
BONUS have some excellent fitzjames/le vesconte and fitzjames/franklin - as a treat.
you don't have friends (you have admirers) by JamesFitzjames
James Fitzjames is a man who does not seek help.
each chapter deals with something different, so while the fic is unfinished it's not really some painful cliffhanger (tho i would love to see it completed one day). second chapter is some excellent, excellent Fitzconte. last chapter also has, why, of course, some really delightful ✨fitzier hatesex✨.
Hoo-ray and up she rises by TheGreenMeridian
They’re rip-roaringly drunk and laughing loud enough at each other to wake half the neighbourhood as they stumble into their lodgings.
i only like Fitzconte if it's done in a very specific way and this fic fits my needs just perfectly. just two besties being sillayyyy. what, like you never gave your bro a handjob just for shits and giggles?
Whatever morning brings by isamariposa
Brutus spends his life torn between disquiet, distaste and desperate pining for Caesar, leading to his infamous betrayal. In his own final moments, he raises a plea: “Jupiter Maximus, take pity on me. If by Your grace there is a way to atone for what I did to him, I beg You: let me do so in the afterlife.”
His wish is granted.
yes, yes, this is technically an HBO Rome fic but each chapter deals with a different time period - the third is dedicated to The Terror and can totally be read on its own. it's some truly excellent Sir John/Fitzjames with a sprimkle of some delightful Fitzconte tomfoolery. It's really, really good.
okay one last BONUS
devourer of debts by allmyloyaldead(van1lla_v1lla1n)
Cornelius Hickey receives, and devours, and adapts.
What Hickey receives from the universe and what he takes for himself, the pieces with which he sews himself together into a man, or something like one.
some incredible Hickey insanity. truly brilliant. the gifts Hickey receives from Billy, Irving and Fitzjames, short and sweet (by sweet i obviously mean gruesome and fucked up <3)
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sucantslay · 10 months ago
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BELIEVE 4 LEAVE ANALYSIS ( PART 1/2)
Eating noodles*
Uhm, since Believe 4 leave is coming out soon, might as well watch the translated lyrics for fun.
Song start playing*
"To the thing that you can't see, is there really an end to all of that?"
Noodles drop*
Ya know what, eating is needed, but analysis this song is more important right now!
Uhm...so, *wear my weird-looking but cool-ass glasses on* let's get into it shall we? ALKALOID P? MayoiP?
So before we actually get into the song lyrics, I would like to remind you something about Mayoi.
He's a little freak, a little cute freak that most of the fans can relate to.
Mostly because of his low self-esteem, he gets scared easily and goes from "Haha" to "I SHOULDN'T HAVE LIVE ANYMORE" really quickly.
Few of the first chapters from the main story until recently, even if it is a small thing, he did change. He doesn't usually talk that much, not even in any conversation with other members or outside people in ES.
He's in his own world, his own thoughts for most of the time. If he did say anything, it was either praising others, talking badly about himself, or simply a scream, panic for help.
But later on, he talks more and more, more open about himself. Even if he still has that low self-esteem within him, he's happy that everyone didn't push him away.
And the song covers up some of that Mayoi character in it! It really hit the right spot if you look close enough.
From the first line:
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It not really a happy feeling, it more of an unsettled situation where Mayoi couldn't know if any of this going to end of continue to suffocate him to death.
I think this is talking about his first time going out to the outside world and couldn't easily run away like all the other time ( he run away from the hospital once ).
Tatsumi going to catch him back, Hiiro can sense him present, his form has being review to the world outside. But more importantly, he got a Unit to be in, he can't no longer be the phantom that ghost this place with no hope and being agony in his own world anymore.
With that thought in mind, he have to chose, to move forward or giving up and continue hiding.
At first, Mayoi didn't have the chose but to go along with other members, he's being push to continue:
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the word "Binoculars" here is not only represent for a binoculars the Airship cool MV, but also about look into the future far ahead.
As he whispered: "I can't really do this, can i? I'm not that good of a person, how can a hideous person like me even deserve a place of happiness like them."
But in his hand was a binoculars, a device to look for the far distance, a further future, even if it was something small and hard to detect, he did in-fact, want to be as beautiful and fill with joy as them.
Yet he fill with nothing but anxious
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But he didn't stop, he continue, in his head scream pain and agony yet he show no sigh of stop.
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Because everyone still needs him, the team need him to help with their training, Tatsumi needs him to help with his yet to completely recover leg. Hiiro and Aira still need a person to relied on when Tatsumi wasn't around.
He can't stop now! ALKALOID NEED HIM!
I love this line sooooo muchhhhh, it not just about Mayoi, it about ALKALOID itself. About Tatsumi, about Aira and about Hiiro:
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We're be able to dream! And we'll continue to dream from this every moment on!
Yes! they accept that their just stupids little bastard, but in that way, if stupids bastard like them were allowed to dream big? They won't stop now!
They announced that, this is all just a beginning
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And the journey may be rough, but they won't scare to try out, if that what helps them achieve their long lasting dream.
Than we shift back to Mayoi:
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As his little dream now is no longer a small bit of hope, but something that he himself and ALKALOID are chasing with.
He's not alone.
The ALKALOID are with him.
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Ah fick that! They said: "We go on this journey with risk at hand!"
Maybe we'll fail, but with that mistake, we'll do it better next time.
And the next lyrics! They are also my favorite!
It LITERALLY about how fourth members represent for, and it even more meaningful when you read the main story!
Hiiro: Was despair when his brother leave him but find hope in ALKALOID.
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Aira: Despair for love, you can spot this very easy from the fact that Aira don't really like himself that much, he scare and hate and just a little boy finding his way, so ALKALOID gave him love! The love that he deserves.
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Ok...I'm so sorry but Tumblr don't allowed me to put more than 10 pic in here. BUT FOR THE LOVE OF ALKALOID I MUST!
THIS WILL BE 1/2 PART, YOU CAN FIND THE 2/2 PART ON MY PAGE. ( if can't, just use the analysis about b4l tag down there )
THANK YOU FOR READING THIS!
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bloody-bee-tea · 1 year ago
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BeeTober 2023 Day 12 - Dust bunnies
Kaeya is browsing through apartment listings listlessly. He’s not really thinking about moving, not when his apartment is so damn affordable, but there’s the issue of the room.
The room that Kaeya doesn’t like to think about. The room that he passes by every day. The room that he hasn’t peeked into for at least two months now.
The room that no longer houses Diluc.
“Fuck,” Kaeya mutters, throwing his phone down on the bed.
He promised himself to not think about Diluc for at least a week, but he can’t do it! He blames the room, mostly, because it’s right there and Diluc lived in there for almost two years after all, but still.
Diluc still isn’t talking to him and Kaeya is fairly certain that he left half his shit in the room—not that Kaeya is in any kind of hurry to go in there to check—and all of that simply makes it hard to put the entire thing behind him.
They fought and now they don’t speak to each other. That should be all it is, but this stupid apartment reminds Kaeya of all the good times he had with Diluc as well and his absence hurts all the more.
Especially since the stupid room is a constant reminder of it.
“I should get fucking rid of it,” Kaeya mutters under his breath though when he gets up he can’t even open the door.
He doesn’t want to know just how much stuff Diluc left behind, in how much of a hurry he was to get the fuck away from Kaeya and just how much he must truly hate him if he didn’t even come back for these things.
“Fuck you,” Kaeya says, kicking the door and then sharply turning away.
Time for a nap, he thinks.
~*~*~
“What you need is a flatmate,” Rosaria tells him over drinks and Kaeya almost chokes.
“I had one, look how that worked out,” he coughs out and Rosaria gives him a look.
“You had your brother live with you, that’s hardly a typical flatmate situation. You need a stranger, someone you don’t have history with in that room. Trust me, it will help.”
“Shut up about the stupid room,” Kaeya groans out because he cannot believe that he can’t even forget about it when he’s out and about. “I don’t want a flatmate.”
“You also don’t want to avoid a stupid room for the rest of your life, do you?” she shoots back and Kaeya hates how right she is.
Of course he doesn’t want to keep avoiding the stupid room. He wants to be able to pass it without falling into doom and gloom and he would also like to repurpose it to something. A flatmate though?
“Do I really want a total stranger in my apartment?”
“Do you want me to move in?” Rosaria asks, one eyebrow raised.
“Hell no!” He downs the rest of his glass in one go and pretends he doesn’t see her smirk. “A flatmate it is,” he agrees once he swallowed and Rosaria gives him her biggest smile.
“A flatmate it is.”
A cold shudder runs down Kaeya’s back. This is going to end so badly.
~*~*~
“So this is the room,” Kaeya says and points at the door. “Your room, if you chose to move in.”
“If you chose to have me,” the guy—Albedo, if Kaeya remembers correctly—gives back. “Can I take a look.”
“Yeah, sure, of course,” Kaeya stammers out and then gives him his most winning smile. “Feel free.”
“Are you okay?” Albedo asks him and Kaeya immediately nods.
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Is there—did someone die in this room?”
“Now why would you think that?” Kaeya laughs out but Albedo simply looks at him and Kaeya finally falls silent, his shoulders dropping.
“No, but—my brother used to live in there. We had a fight.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” Albedo awkwardly says. “I can take a look myself?”
“No, it’s fine, I should—” Kaeya cuts himself off with a shrug.
He can’t be a baby about this forever and right now seems like a good time to get over this.
“Here,” he says with conviction and opens the door for Albedo before he switches on the light.
The room is still filled with stuff, though it’s mostly furniture, Kaeya notes with relief. It seems as if either Diluc took everything with him or he came back to get his stuff later, but it somehow makes it easier to breathe to know that Diluc didn’t flee head over heels.
He also notes the dust bunnies with a rising amount of despair.
“I—would clean first, of course,” he mutters out as a dust bunny moves past them, disturbed by the opening of the door.
“That’s fine,” Albedo kindly gives back. “Do you intend to throw the furniture out?” he wants to know, inspecting everything.
He doesn’t seem averse to giving this a chance and Kaeya hates to admit that maybe Rosaria was right. It already feels easier to breathe in his own apartment now that he knows Diluc got most of his stuff out of here.
“Not if you’re interested in keeping any,” he tells Albedo who nods. “I am going to clean though, so no worries there.”
“That seems like a waste. Things will get dirty during me moving in, so it’s better to do it all at once afterwards.”
It’s a very logical argument but Kaeya still can’t help but to think it’s also very kind of Albedo.
“So—you’re going to move in?” Kaeya asks, because that sure sounded like Albedo had already made his mind up.
“I would like to,” he answers. “The price is more than reasonable, and it seems as if you and me could get along. The rest of the apartment is suitable as well.” Albedo turns towards Kaeya. “Only if you’ll have me, though, of course.”
“Sure, yeah, this seems—like if it could work out,” Kaeya agrees and he even means it.
Albedo seems like a reasonable guy, and he’s a student just like Kaeya so he doubts there will be any problems with keeping quiet during study times. And even though Albedo is the first candidate Kaeya doesn’t have a bad feeling about this.
They’ll live their student lives together and then move on once those years have passed. It’ll work out fine.
~*~*~
“What are you doing, Bedo?” Kaeya asks, barely able to see over the mountain of clothes in his arms.
“Are you sure we don’t need the sideboard?” Albedo asks and then snorts when he spots Kaeya. “Here, gimme.” He takes half of the clothes out of Kaeya’s hands and Kaeya thinks that’s only fair because these are his clothes after all.
“What are we going to do with it? I already have a sideboard next to the bed.”
“Mh, yeah, I guess that’s true,” Albedo muses but he still sighs wistfully. “I guess I’ll just miss it, is all.”
“Gods, petal, you’re adorable,” Kaeya says and leans over to drop a kiss to Albedo’s head. “It’ll still be here. You wanted this room as a library or something right? Use the sideboard for that. We’re not going to throw it out, after all.”
“But I’ll barely spend time in here,” Albedo complains and Kaeya can’t help but to waggle his eyebrows at him.
“Oh, and why is that? Will you be too busy in my room?”
“Kaeya,” Albedo laughs out and nudges Kaeya along on their way to finally transfer the last of Albedo’s things into Kaeya’s room.
“What? A guy can’t dream?” Kaeya sighs out but he can’t deny the happiness that’s bubbling in his belly whenever Albedo is around.
And Kaeya hopes that he’ll be around for a very long time.
~*~*~
“Klee, what did we say about cleaning up these dust bunnies under your bed?” Kaeya asks, his voice as stern as he can make it when he faces Klee, which means he’s not very stern at all.
“To make sure to always do it,” Klee gives back, an adorable little pout on her face and Kaeya throws a look at Albedo.
Albedo who is pressing his lips together and clearly trying not to laugh, so Kaeya can’t expect any help from him, the traitor.
When did being a stern parent fall to Kaeya? They’ll have to talk about that.
“And why do I see at least two dust bunnies peaking out at me then?”
“Because they are not dust bunnies!” Klee is back to her big grin and that’s almost more dangerous than the pout before.
“What are they then, Klee?” Albedo asks and now he decides to chime in.
It’s Kaeya’s turn to pout and at least that moves Albedo to thread their fingers together.
“They are dust Dodoco’s!” She says it as if it should have been obvious and maybe it really should have been, with all the Dodoco plushies covering her bed, but it still catches Kaeya off guard. “And dust Dodoco’s were not part of the cleaning up order.”
“Klee,” Albedo sighs out, but Kaeya spots the tell-tale twitching of the corner of his mouth and in all honesty, he’s not fairing much better.
Klee is too adorable and too smart for her own good sometimes.
“Big brother Albedo,” she says, her mouth suddenly wobbly as if she’s about to burst into tears and Kaeya knows that Albedo cannot withstand that look.
It seems it’s on him to step in again.
“No, Klee. Even dust Dodoco’s need to be cleaned up.”
“But why?” she cries out, big fat crocodile tears streaming down her face and now Albedo is looking at Kaeya as if he’s to blame.
“Because if a Dodoco falls into a dust Dodoco, when it can no longer sleep with you in the bed. We’d have to put it in the washing machine first. Do you want that?” he gently asks and that gets Klee to look at him in horror.
“No!” she gasps out and Albedo hands her the broom.
“Then make sure to clean them all up.”
Kaeya narrows his eyes at him because this is not at all fair.
“Klee will make sure to get them all!” Klee promises them and promptly gets to it.
Kaeya takes the chance to pull Albedo out of the room, glaring at him the entire time.
“It wasn’t the deal that I’m going to be the strict parent, simply because you’re too easily swayed by her too sweet face,” he hisses at Albedo who only laughs at him.
“But you do it so well,” Albedo tells him, pulling him down for a kiss.
“I see, so that’s how it is,” Kaeya whispers right against his lips and even though he’s still a little bit mad he can’t help but to steal another kiss.
“And how is it exactly?” Albedo wants to know, an excited glint in his eyes but instead of playing along and pulling him into their bedroom for a make-out session, Kaeya noses at his cheek.
“You love me,” he mumbles, brushing his lips against Albedo’s skin and he can’t help the little satisfied grin when Albedo shudders.
“I do love you,” he easily agrees as if it’s the most normal thing in the world and for that alone Kaeya would adore him to pieces.
“Good, ‘cause I love you too,” he immediately replies, because he never wants Albedo to doubt that.
“As if I don’t see that every day,” Albedo mutters and turns his head for another kiss. “You’re being so good to us.”
“If I remember correctly, it’s you who’s good to me,” Kaeya corrects him, because it was Albedo who waltzed into his life and tore the sadness right out of Kaeya.
“Mutual, then?” Albedo cheekily asks and Kaeya drops a kiss to the tip of his nose.
“Mutual,” he agrees and hugs Albedo close.
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mlmvoreconfessionals · 2 years ago
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Since we all can agree we need more Danganronpa in our lives how about Nekomaru, Gozu, and Gonta have a contest to see who can eat the most Prey with a dash of Disposal for good measure?
That sounds like a fun one! The big guys gotta eat big, after all.
It was G.ozu who had made the suggestion first while working out with N.ekomaru and G.onta. "It'll be the easiest way to see which of us is the strongest," the wrestler had said. "After all, aren't you two curious about that? We often seem to find ourselves evenly matched, but something like this could be more decisive!"
G.onta was unsure about the idea, but N.ekomaru was all over it, eager for a chance to push himself to new limits. With some reassurance that G.onta wouldn't be any less gentlemanly for joining in on their contest, the three men were all ready to play. They'd have one hour to eat as many people as they can, and then they'd meet up in the school's courtyard for the final results. Other than each other, anyone was fair game. As soon as it hit the hour mark, the three were off to feast.
G.onta's strategy started off with him trying to ask people to be his food. It work on getting him a couple down, but most were understandably not interested in being digested by someone. He didn't want to ruin the game by failing so badly, though, and after his fifth rejection in a row, G.onta simply lifted the student right off the ground and shoveled them into his jaws as quickly as he could. He felt bad about it, and it was very unbecoming of him, but so would failing to play the game right! He still asks every student he comes across, but the answer doesn't change much. They either go down calmly or fighting it. Either way, G.onta's stomach steadily grows in front of him, his suit hanging open unbuttoned to make room for the expanding organ.
N.ekomaru's approach was much more hands-on. Anyone who couldn't overpower him got sent down the hatch, but he was mostly focusing on those that had a chance of actually fighting back against him. Larger students and athletic ones were being picked off one after another, N.ekomaru's bloating gut doing little to stop him from overpowering every challenge he faced. Even as he was slurping them down and digesting them, he didn't stop being encouraging--as the U.ltimate Coach, he had to be a good sport about it, even if he was winning.
G.ozu's plan was the simplest. He went into the reserve course and simply went to town. Every student he came across was hoisted up into the air and got a chance to watch the maw of his mask open before they dove down the hatch. Picking off the students playing hookey or leaving class for any reason was limiting, but when the wrestler did finally burst into one of the classrooms to clear it out, he found it much more challenging to deal with so many students at once. Nott hat he wasn't up for the challenge, of course, but it was a time-sink having to deal with it.
After an hour had passed, all three men gathered up at the school's courtyard. Their stomachs were all large and churning heavily, some meals still screaming and kicking and others packed away in their bowels as a growing mass of waste. In the end, though, none of the men were able to recall exactly how many people they'd eaten--far more focused on the actual eating than counting--and their stomachs were working too hard to be an accurate judge either. So they'd simply have to wait for the end, their guts steadily shrinking back while it melts and crushes all the meat inside with ease. A few bassy farts signal that it's time for them to leave behind their actual proof of victory.
All three squat down in the courtyard, pants around their ankles as the begin to force out dense logs of crap. N.ekomaru was having the easiest time with it, one long continuous log steadily building under him as he forces everything out, sometimes entire skeletons still being somewhat intact in the dense pile. G.ozu was grunting with the effort, steadily dropping off very large and dense logs of crap that thud into place with each one, his massive feast having lead to a very dense crap. G.onta couldn't even bare to watch, hands covering his blushing face as soft crap steadily piles up behind him. There was definitely nothing gentlemanly about taking a shit like this in such a public place, but there was a part of him who was really enjoying the sensation as well.
In the end, the three men stand side by side as they look over the mountains of crap they left behind. Each one stands tall, with clothes and bones sticking out of the brown muck in all of them. The smell is horrific as well. But what all of them are most focused on is the size.
"...they're the same," N.ekomary finally says with a soft frown. "It looks like the three of us managed to each about the same amount of food in the end."
"Hm..." G.ozu crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head slightly as his stomach lets out a soft groan. "This might call for a rematch then!"
N.ekomaru grins wide at the idea and G.onta can't help but smile a bit, too. Their stomachs let out a couple deep groans in agreement. Surely they'll be able to create a tie-breaker eventually. And if not...at least they'd eat well.
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eclipsecrowned · 1 year ago
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'by request' muses + how badly they break canon
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MUSE: kokoro kyriakou FANDOM: a realm full of cardiovascular imagery RELATIVE: er*qus (uncle) DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: not at conception when the relative had 0 backstory lore, but then the mobile game dropped, and now she is the merriest of mary sues -- and not just because she's related to a canon, either. lore has it only two apprentices survived an attack on their generation of wielders, so kokoro's dad can't even exist post-dr. multi-generational drift against canon events.
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MUSE: astraea l*cis cael*m FANDOM: last legend the fifteenth time RELATIVE: n*ct (brother), r*g*s (father), and *rd*n (ancestor) DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: over her knee like a single dry twig. the whole narrative kind of depends on the end of a dynasty, and here i go introducing a member that is actively defying the gods and circumstances that make victims of her male relatives. she's mostly here to explore aspects of canon that were left to atrophy tbh.
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MUSE: zorya constantine FANDOM: graphics about sleuths RELATIVE: miss fishnets herself and some cunt from beatlesville DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: surprisingly, no. there have been universes in the past that show her parents having reproduced, and in fact a complementary muse i play is her brother from one such universe. i tend to default to her being a visitor from another universe rather than any particular interpretation's child.
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MUSE: 'valas' d*vir FANDOM: the gate of a norse god RELATIVE: 1-2's pc (father), v*conia d*vir (mother) DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: prior to 3? no. v*conia's romanced ending -- the one i pursued as a baby kadi -- has her bearing the pc's child. after the character assassination of her in 3? yep. wretcheds of the c*ast completely scrapped her canon characterization to make a one dimensional zealot of her, so everything came crashing down for valas' lore. my city now, though.
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MUSE: kayden c*nnors FANDOM: marvelous graphics RELATIVE: the l*zard / dr. c*rt c*nnors (father) DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: yeah. she doesn't even get a zorya pass of other lore existing that at best doesn't rule her out -- the c*nnors only ever have a single son in the whole of comics history. writing kayden in as an older daughter in the family dynamic upends decades of comics lore, and i revel in getting meta w it.
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MUSE: mira snow FANDOM: a ditty of icyhot RELATIVE: br*ndon st*rk (father), ash*ra d*yne (mother), assorted canon relatives DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: ssssort of? it's implied her mother had a daughter prior to her death, and that it was a st*rk brother that was responsible. mira is me pursuing that plot thread and chasing 'what ifs' about her role in the already unconventional dynamics of w*nterfell. the big divergence is the kid is allegedly dead.
MUSE: ly*nna b*lton FANDOM: a ditty of icyhot RELATIVE: r**se b*lton (father), b*th*ny rysw*ll (mother), brothers out the wazoo DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: undoubtedly. while the lord of l33ches has many stillborn or cradle-withering sons to his name, no daughters are ever mentioned. it's pretty clear if she had survived where her brothers had not, it wouldn't be for long given her half-brother's proclivities. i am simply pursuing female horror narratives.
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MUSE: laerion v*laryon FANDOM: a ditty of icyhot: revenge of the son-cousin of the prequel RELATIVE: c*rlys and rh*en*s (parents), l*ena and l*en*r (siblings) DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: yep. family's fucked and then i throw another not into the fire, out into the roaring waves of their dominion. the heir who would give anything to be in his brother's shadow again. he's gonna be okay, though, bc my city now. i'm ridiculously fond of him and i can't be convinced to part with him.
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MUSE: odessa h*rkonnen FANDOM: dewn RELATIVE: the h*rkonnens (extended relatives) DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: not as badly as you would expect. we never get a full scope of the size of this noble house as opposed to the sparseness of their enemy's family line. an offshoot of the main line is not unthinkable, as we have no idea who in the family holds the ancestral planet together while the baron is absent.
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MUSE: danae sp*ncer FANDOM: the malicious dwellers of the zombie apocalypse RELATIVE: the properly dishonorable earl sp*ncer (father) DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: yes, canon makes it clear the earl is the last of his family -- but. i can argue the phrasing 'end of his illustrious line' could mean the family name dies with him, as danae would be anticipated to take her husband's name, or as i write it, that danae was disowned, disinherited, and no more a true sp*ncer.
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MUSE: julia mayfair FANDOM: cawabooty RELATIVE: v*kt*r r*zn*v (great-grandfather) DOES THIS MUSE BREAK CANON: in all honesty? no. we know nothing of the man's backstory or connections prior to the war, save that he had a father who was killed by germans. this is a case where you can say anything about her great-grandfather and there's nothing contradicting or supporting you. there's no canon to break.
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icedteaandoldlace · 1 year ago
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20 questions for fic writers - tagged by the fantastic @frosty-the-killer-doll ☃️🔪🪆
How many works do you have on ao3?
13.
What's your total ao3 word count?
72,472
What fandoms do you write for?
The Flash, Glee, and Gossip Girl.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Flying Free (or Free Kurt - Emma Pillsbury Style) ((Glee obvs))
Heartless (Glee)
Smoke and Mirrors (Glee)
Maybe Our Real Soulmates Were The... (Flash/Arrow)
As Frightened As You (Glee)
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
It depends. Direct compliments, yes, I'll reply to say thank you. I'll also answer questions, or drop little bits of behind-the-scenes info if there's something fun attached to a detail that a reader pointed out. If the comment is simply "wow!!" or "oof" or something else that doesn't really call for a response and that I don't have anything to add to, I'll just leave it as it is.
What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Toss up between two:
Heartless ends with Kurt getting hit with another wave of grief after having Finn's letterman returned to him, and while he's hugging it and sobbing, for a second it feels like Finn's hugging him back.
The Longest Distance Between Two Points Is Arm's Length ends with Cisco accidentally vibing a moment from earlier in the fic, and misunderstanding what's happening in it. If he'd had context, he would've realized he was seeing proof that his mom loves him, but instead he takes it as a painful reminder that he'll never be enough for her because he's not Dante.
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Probably Alive Again. Just two dorks playing in the rain, on the brink of falling in love.
Do you get hate on fics?
None so far.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Absolutely not.
Do you write crossovers?
Not usually, but I have a few. Maybe Our Real Soulmates Were The... is considered a crossover fic by AO3 and FFN's standards, but not by mine. My most ambitious crossover (and the one I'm most invested in) is Preppy In Pink, which is gonna be so much fun when it's ready for posting.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I certainly hope not. Doesn't look too likely, though.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Pretty sure I haven't had that happen, either. It'd be cool though.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Smoke and Mirrors started as a few lines of dialogue that @kurtbastian-land had sitting in her notes app that she didn't have a full story developed for, and posted on Tumblr for anyone who wanted to expand on it. I wrote a very dramatic continuation (the majority of chapter 1), and then @jwmelmoth gave it a happy ending (chapter 2). But then she realized we left a couple loose ends untied, so the two of us collaborated on how it should end, and wrote a few more chapters together.
What’s your all-time favorite ship to write for?
I honestly don't know. I think I have the most WIPs for Kamisco at the moment, but Barrisco and Kurtbastian are both incredibly fun as well.
What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I started a crossover AU ages ago where Kurt Hummel ends up with Eric van der Woodsen. I don't think I'll ever finish it, but I like to reread the snippets I've already written every now and then.
What are your writing strengths?
Viscerally describing emotions, setting a scene, nailing characters' voices.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Titles, titles, titles, and titles. Oh, and also titles. They HARD!! Also, I'm very bad at following my own advice to write badly and edit later. I want everything to sound pretty immediately! This is how I get stuck on the same paragraph for weeks with a whole big chunk of the fic still unwritten.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Not something I'm going to attempt a whole lot of in the near future. I have already slipped a little bit of Spanish (+1 word of French) into a couple fics, but only like a single word/phrase at a time, spoken by bilingual characters in mostly English sentences. There are also a few spots where a character says more in Spanish, but I don't write the actual dialogue, I just imply a general idea of what they're saying. I'd love to include more, but I'm not about to make a fool of myself with Google Translate—I'm sticking to very minimal Spanish until I can speak it better.
First fandom you wrote for?
First fandom I finished a fic for was Gossip Girl. As for first one I started writing a fic for, it was either Gossip Girl (not the same fic) or Boy Meets World (a still unfinished Shawngela fix-it).
Favorite fic you’ve written?
I mean, A Little Help From Your Friends is pretty hard to beat. It's got everything—humor, angst, fluff, ambiguity, movie references, ROOMMATES!! And funnily enough, I gave it a title with a little help from my friend, @daftydraw (and by "a little" I mean she suggested the whole title and I ran with it).
And tagging: @starstruckpurpledragon @fictionandmusic @orangesunsets12 @thequeenofshebasays @queer-cheer @elledelajoie
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pollenallergie · 1 year ago
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I like to think that older!Tom wasn’t originally Jago’s first choice of owner. Like, initially, that lifelong stray had absolutely no intention of being a part of a household in the first place. But then, he had a violent altercation with a couple of foxes (which he just narrowly escaped from mostly unscathed), and he was like, “Ya know what? Fuck this, I’m going indoors.” So, he wandered in through the first open door he found…
… which was not a door to Tom’s house. No, it was the front door of a restaurant, a bustling restaurant, so, naturally, he got shooed out of there pretty quickly. So he went to the second open door he found, which was the front door of some sweet old lady’s house. It seems like she would’ve been the perfect fit for Jago, right? Wrong. It turns out she already had a cat, and that cat was a bitch, a big meanie who chased poor little Jago out (and fucked him up a little on the way out). So, then Jago went into the third opened door he found, and that door? Yeah, that door was the front door to Tom’s house, which Tom had unintentionally left a bit ajar when he went to take the trash out. As Tom was heading towards his trash cans with the big bag of garbage, Jago was gently batting the front door open and slinking inside. Now, this was quite a bit before Tom had adopted Haz, and that night, Tom’s housemate, Callum, wasn’t home, so there was no one in the house to alert Tom to the tiny orange intruder that had snuck in.
When Tom got back inside, he shut the front door, locked it, and headed towards the kitchen to replace the bag in his garbage can, only to find a strange, scratched-up orange tabby perched on his kitchen counter, lapping up dirty dishwater out of one of the dirty cups Tom had in his sink, just waiting to be washed. Luckily for Jago, Tom was incredibly stoned that night, so while sober!Tom might’ve reacted a little more harshly and tried to scare the strange cat off, high!Tom was like, “What the fuck??” and then, suddenly, Jago lost his footing and fell face first into the sink, splashing himself with the disgusting dishwater that had been left sitting in some of the dishes in the sink… and Tom lost it, he started laughing so hard he legitimately couldn’t remain standing. He fell to the floor, clutching his tummy, and howling with laughter as the pathetic orange tabby simply gave up and lay down in the kitchen sink. Tom, in his high state, ended up simply leaving the cat be in the kitchen when he went to bed later that night, figuring he’d deal with the little fellow in the morning.
When morning came, and Tom was of much sounder mind, he realized just how badly beaten up the poor little guy resting in his kitchen sink was. So, he took him to the closest emergency animal clinic he could find and got him checked out. The little guy was mostly okay, just a bit banged up, but he did have one major medical issue… He had feline chlamydia. God, even sober, Tom had such a hard time not busting up laughing at that in the middle of the vet’s office. What are the odds that the cat who just waltzed right into Tom’s life last night was a total fucking sleazeball?? A man-whore, if you will. Technically feline chlamydia is more of a lung infection than anything, but, fuck, Tom didn’t know that; he thought that strange orange tabby had a fucking venereal disease. If the vet could tell that Tom was just barely holding back laughter, he certainly didn’t let on that he knew, for which Tom was immensely grateful. So, anyway, it turns out the little man was actually sick and in need of a place to crash.
At first, Tom had been planning on dropping him off at the local shelter and being done with it, but then, on the drive home, Jago didn’t quite jump high enough to get up into the car and ended up head-butting the side of the seat, making Tom laugh once more, and, so Tom figured the little guy’s good for a laugh, probably a little dumb (hence why he’s good for a laugh), and a total sweetheart (he didn’t scratch Tom once during their entire vet trip; not when Tom picked him up to put him the car, not when Tom carried him into the vet clinic, and not when Tom had to help hold him in place so that the vet could check his temperature). Tom figured the cat was a pretty chill little dude and, given how rarely Callum was home, he’d begun to get lonely, so much so that he often spent most of his free time going to his mum’s house to bug her. So, Tom decided to keep the little orange tabby after all; that way, he wouldn’t be so lonely all the time (and he wouldn’t have to bother his poor sweet mum so much), and, that way, the little guy could get the proper care he needs while he heals up. Tom ended up naming the little orange tabby “Jago” because he reminded him of this one kid he went to primary school with who was called Jago and who was a bit dumb but super kind and always good for a laugh; he’d been one of Tom’s best mates when he was about 9 or 10.
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izzy-b-hands · 2 years ago
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an all at once nsfw mix of stizzy, steddyhands, and whatever we'd wanna push together to call Ed/Pete/Lucius with an initial touch of Ed/Lucius (this is the Horniest sketching session, u gotta understand)
came (ha) abt bc i wanted to write abt cock worship which made me think stizzy and then suddenly the rest was here too lol, I got no other explanation to offer ajsjjdnfgj
---
It undoes him.
It's as much the actions themselves as simply how relaxed and...pliable feels the wrong word, but Izzy just...is.
Sat between his legs on the floor, face nuzzling into him well before he's hard. Quiet but for happy little murmurs and sighs and moans and he's meant to be focusing on holding this pose for Lucius-
"Wiggle if you need," Lucius cuts into his train of thought. "It won't ruin things for me."
"I'm sure it won't," Stede rolls his eyes. "Enjoying the show?"
"Not as much as Ed, but yeah."
Ed, for his part, has attempted to focus on the occasional interruption from Olu or anyone else on the crew actually out on deck working.
But his eyes don't drift too far from the scene in front of him, and the borrowed silk trousers of Stede's make his interest very clear and prominent.
Izzy sighs and lays his head on Stede's mostly bare inner thigh (it's mesh and lace underthings and thigh highs, but the latter have rolled down just a bit) and the exhalation on his skin nearly ends him.
"Actually, if I can get most of the general forms down now-"
"Then you could finish the rest later?" Ed asks, leaning down to peer at the in progress work.
"I can tell when my subjects need a break," Lucius continues. "Or when they're about to change the scene I'm trying to draw out and they can't help themselves."
Izzy mouths over his cock, the mesh not nearly covering enough. He may as well be wearing nothing at all.
"Like that," Lucius grins. "Five more minutes, you two."
"Fine," Izzy grumbles, but his eyes meet Stede's. "It'll be worth the wait."
He manages a barely audible moan in reply, and lets himself reach down to cradle Izzy's chin and face in his hand.
Izzy melts into the touch, and he whimpers.
"Would it be mean to do a countdown?" Lucius chuckles.
"Got it covered," Ed's eyes shine. "Four minutes, boys."
"Ed."
"You can handle four minutes," Ed continues, and after Lucius gives him a giggle and nod, drops into a chair near them.
Lucius cackles when Ed's legs spread and he palms at his cock.
"You're going to kill them in four minutes time. Might take me out as well, as it happens..."
"Would Pete mind?" Ed's brow raises.
"I think he'd want to be included, honestly."
"We could do that," Ed says. "These two will be busy with each other more than us anyway, at first. Three of us could keep each other company while they're-"
"A few more lines, and then we'll take a break and I'll go get him and-" Lucius pauses. "You really are so fucking pretty."
"Still fuckable after-"
"If I didn't want to fuck anyone who had tried to kill me before, then I'd never get laid," Lucius scoffs. "So yes, very much so."
"Awww."
"You're terrible," he chuckles.
"Lucius," Stede can't help but tease. "You've stopped drawing."
"Ah! I have, yes. Three minutes, right?"
Ed nods and opens up the front flap on his trousers. "Do you guys mind if-"
"Please do," Izzy interrupts and his eyes flutter shut as he rests his head in Stede's grasp. "To think I put off this sketching business for so long-"
"I said you'd like it," Lucius says. "But no, he had to argue with me at first-"
"Take comfort knowing your other captain will keep me from any arguing tonight," Izzy continues. "My mouth will be too busy for it."
"How many minutes left?" Stede asks.
"Not quite two," Ed replies, hand lazily playing with his half hard cock. "Only two minutes, love."
Izzy laughs when he whimpers, but it's easy enough to gently dig a nail into his cheek, not enough to mark or hurt badly. Just a brief sting that makes Izzy hiss.
He moves to kiss Stede's palm, and the minutes no longer matter.
"Thank fuck," Lucius sighs happily as Stede helps Izzy into his lap. "Glad you two broke first. Ed, I'll go get Pete-"
He pauses, and Stede can't help but comment.
"You don't want to wait, do you?"
"I don't, but he'll be a bit hurt if he isn't here to watch me suck his idol's cock."
Ed snorts. "Idol?"
"Okay, maybe too strong a word, but the point is," Lucius smiles. "He'll want to be present for the whole thing. That said-"
He walks over quickly, leans down to kiss Ed hard, then stands back up.
"God, it was better than I expected. I'll be right back with him."
"I'm not getting up to lock the door this time," Ed says. "Can we just make them do it when they come in?"
"I think so," Stede nods, but he can admit he's distracted by Izzy grinding on his lap, nipping at his neck in between kisses. "I mean, they'll hear us, I'm sure-"
"They certainly fucking will," Izzy chuckles. "We did get complaints last time. Might do to be more mindful, now."
"Says the man who can't stay quiet when I'm-" Stede starts, but the door to their quarters swings open.
"Oh!" Pete blushes ever so slightly. "You weren't kidding, everything is very much already-"
"Get your clothes off," Lucius is breathless in between kisses to Pete, and tossing his own clothes aside. "Ah, could I ask you to lock the door too?"
"I would do nearly anything for you," Pete murmurs. "I think I can handle locking a door."
"Good. The less interruptions the better."
It's the best sort of hedonistic: the ship is under control with Olu and Jim and the rest of the crew, and they're free to take the time to-
Well. There are flowery terms that would sound better in his journal recounting of it all. But the most honest is the most blunt:
That they're free to take the time to fuck each other until they can't see straight, and get back to the sketching after.
Everyone else understands; they've either had their own night like this with the three of them (Ed, himself, and Izzy specifically) already, or know one might be coming up soon with the second run of group sketches Lucius is doing (and that might well include Lucius and Pete again, thank fuck they've stolen more couches recently.)
It keeps things fair and relaxed and the rest of his thoughts drift off at the sight of Lucius sucking Ed's cock, Ed pulling Pete down onto the couch for a kiss, and Izzy...
Izzy whining in his ear for more, cock already leaking through the mesh barely there material covering it.
It's good luck none of them mind taking breaks in between moments with each other, because he's so wonderfully close to being that particular sort of undone, and he can tell he'll take Izzy with him when he goes.
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