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skulla-rxcks · 1 year ago
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Caravan Perv
Paring: Changbin & Bang Chan x fem reader
Rating: explicit
Genre: smut. Camping w 3racha ! (Han mentioned)
Warnings: smut, n!pple l!cking, facefuck!ng, use of ‘slvt & wh0re’
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Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 (idk y it didnt tag :’) )
Please dm me if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^
!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!
May or may not have been based off a very realistic dream I had the other night
It’s around 8pm and I’m on a camping trip with three of the boys; Han, Chan and Changbin. It was all Changbin’s idea to go camping with 3racha, surprisingly he wanted me to come too. Well, not that surprising. we’ve been hanging out a lot recently.
“It’s been ages since I’ve done anything like this..” Changbin groans, his back aching from walking all the way back to our caravan. “You really need to touch some grass I swear” I giggle, he rolls his eyes in response. My feet start to blister from my sandals making it hard for me to walk. “Do you think the guys are asleep yet?” I whisper as we open the door to the caravan we’re renting. “I think Han is. But Chan probably isn’t. Why?”
“Just curious.” I say back, getting a glass of water while Changbin makes his way to his bed; Chan and Han are sharing a small mattress on the over side of the car. Changbin and I are sharing a bunk bed, he’s on the top and I’m on the bottom. I hear a sound coming from Changbin’s phone, I’m wondering what it is so I climb up to his bunk and look over is shoulder, and…. he’s looking at hentai. “Perv..” I mumble under my breath, a sly grin playing on my lips. “What?” He answers back, knowing what I saw him looking at but he’s playing dumb.
“Why here?” I question. He doesn’t reply, he connects his ear buds and turns up the volume on his phone, ignoring that i saw anything. He probably doesn’t want the others to hear a fuss I bet. “Binnie I’m asking you a question..” I pout, sitting on his lap.
“Shit. Don’t do this now..” he sighs, I’m confused for a few seconds until I feel his raging hard on pressing against my ass.
“You made me like this so you can fix it.” He groans, biting his lip and fixing his glasses as he realises there’s already precum glistening out of his tip and his cocks in my hand. “Fuck.. just like that..” Changbin moans as I being stroking his length, I watch as his dick thrusts in and out of my hand, making me lick my lips at the site of his seed.
“Need you..” I blush. Reaching into his bag and ruffling around until I find a condom in the front pouch. He’s always been bringing them for the past while that we’ve been hanging out, it’s like he’s been wanting this as much as I have, or perhaps even more. “Fucking, don’t you dare.. not now.. Chans still up an-“ his words are thrown out in a panic, clearly worried if the others were to found out.
“Shut it. They’ll hear.” I respond, I slip my panties off and put him inside me, sucking in my breath as I feel the thickness of his cock stretch my pussy out.
“Shit you’re tight fuck..” he moans, his hands reaching around to grope my ass as I bounce up and down on his length. “D-don’t moan so loud!” I scoff at him. “Then d-dont clench your cunt so fucking tightly..!” He starts bucking his hips up more aggressively now, his thrusts making a sharp pain run through my insides as he pounds against my walls. Leaving an occasional spank on my ass cheeks here and there. “god you feel so good ah..!” I yell, my opinion changing about if the other two (Chan and Han) hear us at all. “Who’s the loud one now? You’re so tight and warm I love it..” he whispers into my ear, leaving a line of kisses along my jaw. Hearing him complain about my loudness just makes me want to be louder. So I do exactly that. I start riding him faster, moaning as loudly as I can, if he wants me to be quiet he can make me quiet himself.
“Oh fuck.. harder Binnie mm..” He finally makes a quick move, kissing me and wrapping his hand around my neck slightly choking me to make me shut the fuck up. That was so bold I love it.
While I’m still riding him I see Chan walk by in the corner of my eye, looking that the ground even though he knows two of his best friends are fucking practically right in front of him. The tap turns on, assuming he’s getting a glass of water before he sits at the small table that we have in the tiny ass kitchen. “You’re so loud he probably noticed.. shit. What did I say about clenching my dick?” Changbin groans, bringing me down on him faster now, his strong grip making it hard for me to do anything back. All I can feel is him slamming me down onto his thick fucking cock, making my vision blurry as he makes me cum so many times it’s insane. Unreal even. “A-ah y-you’re so f-fast nnngh!” I moan, my head falling backwards as the little pathetic whimpers escape from my mouth. “Fuck.. you’re so hot..!” I start feeling light headed, barely able to stay upright.
“I’m not done yet.” He growls, bringing his hand back up to my neck and turning me back so I’m facing him, my pussy continuing to throb around him as he looks at me, the site of his beautiful face, smirking. Is enough to make me fold alone. Fuck he looks ten times hotter with those bulky ass glasses on his face.
“Shut up guys, you’re gonna wake up Han, especially you.” Chan sighs out loud, rolling his eyes, pointing at me as he does so.
“Make me.” I respond to Chan with a sly grin playing on my lips.
“Cock slut.” He mumbles, climbing up onto the bed with us, I’m surprised the bed can handle all of our weight if I’m being honest. Once Chan gets up he unbuttons his jeans, throwing his pants and boxers onto the group before pulling out a spare condom Changbin had in his bag. Chan’s slightly bigger than Changbin so it just fits onto his length nicely, even though it may be a bit too tight causing his dick to twitch inside of it, it’s not like it’ll be the only time his dick will be twitching inside of something tonight. “Let me borrow her cunt.” Chan smirks, pushing his dick into my wet pussy.
“Chan!” I squeal, biting down on my lower lip to stay quiet. This is so not the time for this. “Shh, just let him take you like the little whore you are” Changbin whispers into my ear. His tongue trails down my body, stopping at my breast to stop and lick at my nipple repeatedly.
“A-ah.. harder. Chan.. use me..” I cry out, bucking my hips to try get more of his dick in my hole. He grabs onto my hips, fucking me hard and fast, making me moan louder than I ever have in my life. “Shit.. fuck!” More whimpers come out of my mouth, my hips bucking against his frantically. “Jesus, fuck. Han’s still sleeping. Gonna have to shut you up with my cock.”Changbin smirks, sliding his cock down my throat, I gag slightly around it, it’s been so long, too fucking long.. Since I’ve had someone fuck my throat until I choke on their cum. “Your body is fucking made for our dicks.” Chan moans, one of his hands reaching up to grope my tits.
“S-slow down.. mmm gomnna cum!” I manage to mumble out, even though my words are muffled by Changbin’s thick cock deep down in my throat. “Do it, show us how much you love our fucking cocks deep inside of your body.” Changbin smirks.
My body reacts straight away to his words, my cunt clenching around Chan’s length as I release myself, cumming all over him. He pulls out and takes off the condom, releasing his seed all over my tits. Changbin follows along, spilling spurts of his warm salty cum on my chest.
“Fuck.” I sigh, tired from all of the pleasure that I just went through.
“Fuck.” Chan repeats after me, catching his breath.
“Fuck indeed. I swear to god if Han heard any of that, I’m never taking you guys camping again.” Changbin scoffs, wrapping an arm around me protectively
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reddesires · 5 months ago
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hii!! i loved yr noa courting hcs, i was wondering if yu could do the same thing for Blue eyes? I'm in luv with him lol.. thank yuuu!! <3
Blue Eyes Courting Headcanons [Blue Eyes x Human!Reader]
Blue Eyes x Human!Reader
Fandom: Planet Of The Apes
Rating: No Warnings.
A/N: Baby boy, Blue eyes 👏 love to see it. I loved writing this. He deserves the world!
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•I would like to start that Blue eyes' approach to courting you is very endearing. He can be very self-conscious in certain ways and overthinks a little too much. He thinks he should be self assured like his father and that he's weak compared to him so he tries to accommodate a lot and you could definitely tell with the way he carries himself so a lot of time you remind him of his own self worth and how you think he has a lot of strengths, your reassurance only solidifies his intentions of courting you.
•Blue Eyes is always determined to bring you a prized kill from hunts, whether it be your very own rabbit or even deer for dinner. He always wants you to be well fed, and he has to provide for his potential mate, so whatever you're craving for that night is what you'll receive. He'll even go as far as picking your favorite berries, so you'll have that as a sweet snack. You tend to feel bad, but he'll insist on getting what you want, so you'd rather just say than have him prod at you until he receives an answer.
•He's more than okay with your presence around Cornelius. He's very protective of his baby brother, and he'll protect the baby chimp with his life. He always watches as you hold his brother in your arms, cradling him so gently and he can only imagine how you would look with his own child in your arms, you cooing softly at your baby with that motherly voice you tend to replicate when in the presence of babies, he practically floats off into the throes of his daydream before you snap him out of with a delicate smile and Cornelius clinging to the front of your shirt, his face buried into the side of your neck "I think it's his nap time.."
•Blue Eyes usually eats his meals with his family in their perched nest, but after he was determined to court you, he would eat his meals down below in the communal area with you. It's a crucial way of bonding with others in his culture, and he feels it brings him closer to you in that aspect. He'd rather you eat with him than practically be by yourself. (You're not, Maurice and Lake are always happy to give you company, but you dont rain on his parade.)
You two practically huddle close to each other while contently eating your meals side by side, Blue Eye's preening at your comfort at his proximity.
•Quality time with Blue Eyes is always intimate in nature, whether that be sneaking off to star gaze or exploring the outskirts of the colony's parameters. He's always close to you in someway, he'll graze your side as steps past you to check out the area or he'll give you his hand to help you walk down a steep hill so you don't fall. You're practically swooning at how gentle and attentive he is to you, in a way it reminds you of how Caesar is towards Cornelia and you assume that Blue eyes bases his own affections to you based on how his father treats his mother.
•He's comfortable speaking to you, the tender baritone of his voice graces your ears and it only makes you yearn to hear more of it, you become so entranced in the sound and the movement of his mouth that you can't help but lean in to him. The area surrounding you two doesn't matter, and you're thankful that he's willing to reserve this piece of himself to you.
•TRUST that you will receive gifts (secret admirer style) he'll leave wild flowers infront of your hut or you'll find the most pretty stones by your makeshift nest, you just know that it's him because he's definitely coy about it and you'll tease him feigning you have absolutely no idea who left such gifts for you. He'll have his moments where he'll slide a wild flower over to you signing how he thought of you when he saw it, you can't help the bright smile that crosses your lips as you place it in your hair.
•When he finally confesses to you that he's chosen you as his mate, you two are blanketed under the star crested sky. You feel as if your breath was taken from your very lungs as you looked into his crystalline eyes, the way he seemed like he was drenched by the heavens above and his eyes seemed luminous under the moonlights rays. "Will you have me?" His voice melting into the atmosphere surrounding you, just as you wanted to melt into his arms. You lean into him, pressing your forehead tenderly into his. He sighs with what seems like relief and euphoria as he slides his palm into your hair, gently cupping the back of your neck. "Yes, it's always been yes."
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minki-moo · 1 year ago
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♡‧₊˚ 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙚 ♡‧₊˚
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pairing ♡ bang chan x f!reader rating ♡ e for explicit tags ♡ older brother's best friend!chan, university au, fluff, very slight angst (reader is just overwhelmed/kinda insecure), pet names (chan calls reader princess, good girl), oral (f.receiving), aftercare w/c ♡ 2.6k
a/n ♡ hai!! this is my first little fic (on here). its based off a lil convo i had with a chan c.ai bot and i had to write something about it >.<
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"hey, what's wrong?"
chan looks at you, standing in front of his dorm door at an ungodly hour. you look like a mess; as expected from someone who ran half way across campus.
you look up at chan, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
"i'm-i dont know. i just need to be with someone right now". you take a shaky breath. "i dont wanna be alone."
chans's eyes slightly widen when he sees the tears in your eyes. he gently grabs you by your waist and pulls you inside. "hey hey, listen. it's ok". he moves you to his living room and guides you to his couch, sitting you down. "i'll bring you something to drink and then we can talk about it ok?".
you nod weakly, watching as chan moves to the kitchen. the sight reminds you of your childhood, when your older brother would invite chan over to hang out. chan would often make snacks for them (you included since your brother always had the task of babysitting you), and this scene in front of you was no different.
well, except for the fact that you were always happy back then, cheerful even. but ever since starting university, you've become overwhelmed; the transition and being so so far from home. thank god you were able to get into the same university as chan, or else you would have felt completely alone.
you're shaken out of your thoughts when you feel the couch dip, chan sitting next you. he puts a cup of tea down on the table in front of him and drapes a blanket around your shoulders.
"so bub", chan says, using his childhood nickname for you, "do you wanna talk about it?"
you take a deep breath and start talking about your worries and insecurities from your thoughts earlier. the one thing you love about chan is the way he just listens. he never butts in and just sits there, giving you his attention with the occasional head nod and hum of understanding.
"i just-i'm so tired chan. i'm tired of putting up this 'strong girl' persona. i'm tired of having that expectation tied to me. for once, i want to let go. i want to be taken care of without having to worry about anything else."
chan looks at you with his puppy dog eyes. he moves closer to you and puts his arms around you, holding you close to his warm body. you feel the tears from earlier threaten to spill, but you keep them in, refusing to cry in front of chan.
"bub", he says, his voice vibrating through his body, "you know you can always come to me right? i would never judge you, and i for sure would never leave you alone." he runs his hands through your hair as he gently rocks you back and forth.
at this point, your efforts to hold back your tears fail as the droplets fall, dampening chan's shirt as small sobs leave your mouth.
chan holds you tighter, doing his best to comfort you. "hey, it's ok princess", you notice the change in nickname but choose to brush it off.
after what felt like hours you detach yourself from chan, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. "i-i think i'm a bit better now." you look up a chan with a weak smile on your face. "thank you, channie".
he blushes slightly at the nickname, as you haven't called him that in years. "of course. say, do you want to stay over for the night? i wouldn't want you to go back to your dorm this late."
truthfully, you would hate to stay amd inconvenience chan anymore than you already have, and staying over would make things harder on him.
chan sees the look of hesitation on you face and gives you a stern look.
"hey, i know that look on your face!"
you look at him, startled and blushing slightly. "what look??"
he grins at you, an amused look ghosting his face.
"the look that says 'oh i'm bothering him i should just go home'". chan chuckles as your eyes widen at his answer.
chan sighs and takes your hands in his "bub, i can promise that you are not bothering me. not at all. i barely get to see you on campus, and to be honest-" he looks away slightly, "i'm more than happy to spend some more time with you. i've missed seeing you."
you stare at chan, his face becoming redder by the second. you've always found chan cute (and very, very handsome of course), but you've never thought that he might have similar feelings for you; you always thought he saw you as just a little sister.
chan clears his throat "anyways, let's get you to bed." he gets up off the couch, and you start to follow, until chan pushes back down.
"chan what the-"
he cuts you off when he suddenly picks you up bridal style, forcing a yelp out of you.
chan smiles at you. "i refuse to let you do anything while you stay with me. you deserve a break, and i'll be giving you the treatment you deserve." he makes his way towards his bedroom while you lay your head in his chest, suppressing the feelings that have resurfaced so suddenly.
chan places you on his bed. then starts looking through his closet. "here." he tosses a sweater towards you "change into this. you can take the bed, i still have some work to finish." he walks up to you and brushes back your hair, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead "goodnight princess." he doesn't give you time to answer as he leaves the room and shuts the door.
you sit there, stunned and in utter shock. chan, channie, just kissed you, and you don't think you can suppress these feelings anymore.
suddenly wide awake, you change into his sweater and get under the covers, chan's scent surrounding you, making you dizzy and dampening your panties just a little bit. although his scent is also comforting, you can't seem to calm down, the kiss still running through your mind.
after what felt like forever, you get up and look at the time. 2:03 am. you know chan would still be wide awake, the workaholic he is. you slip out of bed and walk back into the living room.
chan is sitting on the couch, glasses on and looking intently at his laptop screen. hearing your footsteps, he looks up, smiling but also looking slightly concerned.
"can't sleep?" he says as you move closer to the couch, taking the spot next to him
"no", you say, pulling your knees to your chest and pulling the hood of chan's sweater over your head.
he nods, his focus returning to his laptop while you both sit in a comfortable silence.
after a few minutes, you turn to him, unable to keep all the questions in your head any longer.
"chan?"
he looks over, looking at you from over his glasses.
"yes?"
you hesitate, before looking him dead in the eyes and asking him, "why did you kiss me earlier?"
he looks at you, a smile slowly growing on his face as he puts his laptop down, moving so his whole body is facing you.
"why are you asking?" he leans in closer. "did you not like it, princess?"
you look at him, eyes wide and face growing hot. "n-no, i mean-you know what im talking about! you've never done that before so why now?"
chan's smile grows at your reaction. clearly he's enjoying how flustered he can make you with a few words.
"well...i did it because i wanted to."
you look at him, shocked. "you wanted to?"
he nods, moving closer to you and taking you hands in his.
"yes, i did." he takes a deep breath. "you don't know how long i've been waiting to do that. to kiss you, and to let you let me take care of you. i...i've liked you for so long, but you only ever saw me as an older brother"
there are so many things running though you're head, but you chose to ignore them for the fact that chan likes you back.
he has this whole time.
you reach up, holding his face in you're hands. "i stopped seeing you as an older brother a long time ago." and you kiss him. a short, but oh so sweet kiss that makes everything seem right.
you pull away from the kiss, smiling at the shocked expression on chan's face. "what's wrong?", you say, getting payback from all the teasing from earlier. "you didn't like it, channie?"
he finally shakes off his initial shock, looking at you with a different expression: relief.
"no princess", he puts his arm around you're waist and pulls you onto his lap with one quick tug. "i loved it so much."
he kisses you again, and you can feel the smile on his face as you kiss him back, his movements almost desperate.
chan's hands move from your waist to your back, his hands slowly making their way under your sweater.
you break away from the kiss, panting "c-chan please..."
"please what, princess?"
blushing, you respond, "i-i want more."
chan smirks at you, suddenly grabbing your ass and grinding it down into his lap, causing you to moan in surprise.
"is this enough for you, princess?"
you look his in the eye, the desperation and neediness making your eyes water.
of course it's not enough.
you roll your hips into chan's now very prominent boner, earning a gasp from the man.
you hear chan whisper "h-hey, slow down princess."
"but chan, i need more. so much more, please", you plead, hoping he will do something about the ache in your core.
without warning, chan moves you onto your back and sits in between your legs. he leans over and gives you another kiss on the lips before moving down to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. his actions force tiny moans from you, which only encourage him to do more. as he moves further down, he slowly, almost painfully, lifts your sweater until your tits are uncovered.
without skipping a beat, chan takes one of your nipples in his mouth, while he rolls the other one in between his fingers.
"ch-channie", you gasp, your hands grabbing his hair. chan moans, welcoming the sting, which stimulates you even more.
he takes his mouth off your nipple with a pop, and gives it one final lick before moving down to your thighs. god, your thighs. chan always tried to be respectful when it came to you, but he couldn't deny that your thighs were a work of art, and he always wondered what it would be like to be in between them.
unable to hold himself back, chan rubs the wet spot on your panties, brushing his thumb over your swollen clit. "look at this princess, you're already so wet for me." he continues teasing you, making your whimpers grow louder, and the wet spot on your panties grow larger.
after what feels like forever, chan tugs on the waistband of your panties, lifting your hips with one hand and pulling them off with the other, stopping to take a look at your soaking wet pussy; knowing that he's the reason you're like this makes him even more turned on than he already is.
"now princess", he whispers, blowing a puff of air onto your heat, making you shiver. "let me take care of you, ok?" without warning, he licks a stripe over your pussy, making you gasp and squirm.
"o-oh channie, yes."
he smirks, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard. overwhelmed, you buck your hips into his mouth, chasing your pleasure, but he holds down your hips as he ravishes your pussy, not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste.
you're in pure bliss. chan's tongue bringing you overwhelming pleasure, the only things coming out of your mouth are broken moans and incoherent mumbling. "ch-channie please, 'm so close."
"you're close, princess?". his moves his attention to your hole, rubbing his index finger over your tight entrance. "can you cum on my fingers? can you do that for me, princess?" you give him a weak nod.
chan clicks his tongue and pushes his finger into you, only to pull it out seconds later, making you whine.
"fuck, channie please. please 'm so close." tears start to fall as you beg for chan to keep going.
"princess, i need you to use your words ok?" chan's change of tone makes you shiver. "can. you. cum. on. my. fingers?", he says while teasing your clit with his thumb.
you nod urgently "yes, yes i can. please just me-"
the feeling of chan's finger finally sliding into your wet heat makes you gasp. continuing his assault on your clit with his tongue forces louder moans out of you. its almost too much. chan adds another finger and you start to see stars.
"channie channie please please 'm so close please don't stop."
chan chuckles, the vibrations on your clit bringing you closer to the edge. he then takes his mouth off your pussy, coming up to kiss you.
"cum for me princess."
the taste of you on his mouth, his voice and the movement of his fingers are too much for you, as your body tenses up and your pussy squeezes chan's fingers. you know you shouldn't be too loud, but you can't help it. the pleasure he brought you was intense, and you couldn't hold back your moans. he continues to move his fingers inside of you, helping you ride out your high.
after you've calmed down, chan removes his fingers from inside you. he takes a tissue from the table beside the couch and cleaning you both, slipping your panties back on and pulling you into his lap again.
"that's my good girl. you did so well."
finally down from your high, you blush, hiding your face in his neck.
"that...was amazing", you say, you're voice no more than a whisper.
he hums, smiling slightly. "glad to hear that princess." he gently brings your face towards his, and plants small kisses all over you're face. "was that the type of treatment you were hoping for?"
rolling your eyes, you smile at him. "not entirely, but it was still amazing." you kiss him on the tip of his nose. "thank you channie."
"anything for you, my princess." the slight change in your new nickname makes your heart (and pussy) flutter, resting your head on his chest and slowly dozing off.
in your sleepy state, you mutter, "can we do this next time?"
he chuckles, "we can do more than just this, if you want."
"like what?"
chan whispers in your ear, "maybe next time i can have you cry on my cock, teasing you again and again until you beg me to let you cum." he looks at you innocently, purposely oblivious to how flushed you've gotten. "wouldn't you like that princess?"
"i-i might like that."
he smiles, giving you a final kiss on the lips before carrying you to his bedroom.
"of course you would princess. now let's get you to bed."
chan walks to the side of his bed, placing you down gently and then getting in himself. he pulls you by your waist, one arm under your head and his hand caressing your hair.
as you drift off to sleep, you utter one more phrase before sleep takes over.
"i love you channie."
a/n ♡ ahahah i totally didn't project or anything ;) (this also turned out a lot longer than i thought it would) i also think i could have added some more dialogue but lmk what you think >_<
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im-ovulating · 19 days ago
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Can I request some FILTHY biker!Alec x brat!biker!reader please? All creative freedom goes to you because I have no scenario in my head rn (surprising ik)
Thank you!!! Luv you!!🫶🫶🫶🫶
(A/n: Kinktober Day 11/15! Luv you tooooo!!! It's not as filthy as I wanted it to be, but I dont have time to rewrite lmao)
Word Count: 1,242
Summary- Last night drive turns into something more...
Warnings: Treating Alec's Motorcycle Like a Grinder, Praise, No PIV, Slut is Used Twice
Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
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Alec Volturi x Fem! Reader: Revved
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The cool air kissing your skin finally comes to a slow as Alec pulls his bike into the small clearing that overlooks the city.
He had offered to take you out for a ride when you discovered he had a motorcycle. You've been riding around for nearly an hour, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the night life in Volterra and, apparently, he's decided to end your makeshift date with a view of the city from above.
"Thank you for showing me this." You thank him as he switches positions with you so that you're in front and can lean back into him, which you do. "This is a gorgeous view..."
The lookout is beautiful; low enough to enjoy the twinkling lights of the town while still being high enough that the light pollution doesn't obscure all of the stars. The moon isn't out tonight, but you're sure it would only make the view even more breathtaking.
Alec wraps his arms around you, nuzzling lightly into you. "Gorgeous sight for my gorgeous girl."
You smile, turning your head to kiss him and reaching back to tangle your fingers in his hair. The kiss starts slow and languid as you savor the taste of each other, but it steadily grows more heated.
Alec's hand comes up to grip your jaw, tilting your head back further as his tongue slips out to trace the seam of your lips. As soon as you part your lips, he's invading your mouth, devouring you like you're his first meal in days. It's overwhelming and all you can do it hold on for the ride.
When the kiss breaks, you're practically gasping for breath. Your face stays titled towards the stars as if begging the heavens for reprieve. His thumb traces the contour of your cheek before sliding down to your neck and lightly squeezing before letting go, dropping his grip to your waist instead.
Alec ducks his head, pressing a trail of cool kisses along the column of your throat and barely grazing his teeth along your pulse point. He lingers, basking in the steady *thump* *thump* *thump* of your heartbeat against his lips and in the scalding heat of your skin against his own natural chill.
His chest is solid against your back as he slips his arm around you, tugging you closer. "I could kiss you forever, Amore mio..." He mumbles against your neck.
A small chuckle leaves you as you tilt your head back further, resting it on his shoulder. "If you would get around to finally changing me, you quite literally could," you tease.
He meets your quip with a small nip to your earlobe, careful not to break skin. "Hush, love, you know the date is set; be patient."
"There's no guarantee that I even make it to the date," you push, rolling your head on his shoulder so you can look at him with a grin - well, at his jawline, "I mean, anything could happen; I could be stabbed in a mugging, I could be shot in a bank robbery-" You're cut off by a low growl.
"Nobody is going to even *think* about touching you while I'm here. You're mine..." His snarl goes straight to your core.
Based on the slow smirk you feel form as he presses his face onto your shoulder, he can smell the arousal starting to dampen your panties. "Oh, you liked that, huh?" His voice calms down to an amused chuckle. He presses butterfly kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. "You like when I get all protective?" He kisses the underside of your jaw. "Dare I say... possessive?" He whispers before claiming your lips once more.
His arm tightens around you as his free hand moves to turn his bike on.
"What? Why?" You ask, breaking the kiss in confusion. "Why are we going?"
Alec presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. "We're not." He adjusts his hold on you so he can manhandle your hips back a bit and gently push you between the shoulder, so you lean forward.
Before you can respond, he's gathering your skirt up and pushing your hips down and forward so your clit rubs against the textured leather of the seat. "O-oh..." you gasp out, feeling the growling of the engine vibrate through you. "Oh, that's why..." you breath as he forces you to grind against the bike again and again.
Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you moan out into the night air. The trees surrounding the small lookout bounce your cries of pleasure around, making them sound even more lewd.
As you start to move on your own, Alec lets up. "I knew you'd like this," he murmurs, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he can look down at you riding his motorcycle. "You dirty girl, getting off by humping my bike like a slut." He reaches around you to grab the handles and give the bike a good long rev that makes your back arch as it rumbles against your soaked cunt. Your underwear is already drenched, an unfortunate victim in this game of vulgarity. "You're my slut... aren't you?" He asks, revving the bike again.
All you can do is nod. The feeling is like nothing you've ever felt before; the deep, bone vibrating rumbles put your vibrators to shame.
"Harder," Alec commands, pushing down on your hips once more, showing you what he expects. "Thatta girl. Just like that. I want to see you soak the seat." He rasps, never taking his eye off of where you're rubbing against the bike.
The new pressure has you seeing stars. You can feel your head swimming as you hit your clit on the seat with each roll of your hips. Your mouth hangs open in a permanent moan as you get closer and closer.
"You know, it'd probably feel so much better if we got these out of the way..." You can hear the grin in his voice seconds before the sound of ripping cloth fills the air. As he tears the fabric off of you and your clit gets its first taste of the leather against it, your hips stutter. "Fuck, please, Alec- I'm so close- I need it; I need to cum, please!"
As soon as he hears your plea, he's revving the engine again and you're crying out as you cum. Your hips stutter and buck even harder as you continue to roll your hips down, smearing your juices into the leather.
"That's it, pretty girl..." Alec turns your face towards him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his other hand keeps your hips moving in a steady rock. "There we go, let me see how good it feels..."
When he finally has mercy on you and stops grinding you into the seat, you slump forward, resting your forearms on the gas tank as you try to steady your racing heart.
Alec presses forward as well, plastering his chest to your back so he can nose against your neck. "You did so good for me, love." He murmurs. "Do you want to go home and see just how good you can get?" You can feel his hardness through his jeans, pressing snugly against your ass.
You can't help the small giggle that leaves you as you grind back against him. "With how hard you are, we might just have to handle that here."
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the-little-ewok · 1 year ago
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The Little Spoon
Poe Dameron x G/N Reader
Rating: M
Wordcount : 1600 (ish)
Warnings : Fluff, mentions of getting caught during sex/heavy petting, rife with teasing innuendos, soft softness, spooning, brief mentions of food, Poe being an adorable menace.
Prompt / Summary : Burying your face in their neck, listening to their heartbeat, spooning at night. / After a difficult day you and Poe try something new in the bedroom.
A/N : Anon who sent me the prompts - i dont know if fluffy was what you really wanted but… i kinda went pretty fluffy cute with this. If you were hoping more for a NSFW request please send me an ask and i’ll do an alt fic for you :)
If you enjoy this fic please don't just hit the like button. Hit the reblog button and tell me your thoughts! Support your content creators with reblogs!
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"Stop!" You half whine, half laugh, burying your face in Poe's neck.
"I don't know if he'll ever be able to talk to you again without blushing!" Poe laughs, clearly finding the fact his newest squad member walking in on you both in a, well, compromising, position, hilariously funny, and your embarrassment even funnier.
Since then poor Leru had been unable to look at you without his cheeks lighting up red, and losing all ability to speak.
"Take it as a compliment it affected him so much," Poe shrugs, taking the whole situation in his stride, as usual. "You can't change what happened, and besides you can't hide out here forever."
'Here' was the grassy bank outside the, what now seemed all too small, base entrance. You had escaped out into the humid night air as soon as your shift was over, convinced everyone you encountered knew the story and was staring at you.
Of course, they already knew that you and Poe were close, but perhaps not quite how close. There had never really been time, during the middle of a war, to consider what you were. And now you were together, both of you wanted to enjoy it without too much fuss. At least while you settled into a new routine, and Poe to his new role as General. So really, getting carried away in what should have stayed an empty office, after Poe had returned from a long mission, was not the best of plans.
But oh, he had been so distractingly hot. The way he'd smiled, his eyes flickering up and down your body, the way he'd pulled you tight against his chest, the way his lips had brushed against your skin.
It was hard to regret what happened. But you did regret getting caught.
"I can stay here as long as I like," you challenge his statement, folding your arms.
"I could just order you back inside," he shrugs with a sigh, making out it would be a huge inconvenience for him to do that.
"You wouldn't dare!" You twist to glare at him in challenge, as Poe leans back to look at you, a serious expression creasing his brow. He slowly raises one eyebrow, before he finally gives in, bursting into laughter.
"No, you're right. I like continuing to live without a vibroblade in my chest, so I guess orders are off the table!" He pulls you back into his arms, holding you tight against him.
"How about I very politely request you come back inside? We can grab some food and get an early night?"
"I don't want to go to the canteen,” you mumble, picking at a loose thread on your trousers, unable to remove the idea that everyone would be judging you.
"You know, I don't think anyone else knows? And even if they did, firstly, it's not like they saw anything personally, just second hand, and secondly, if anyone says a damn word I'll have their ass hauled in front of me faster than they can blink!" Poe states passionately.
"That's sweet. But we agreed on no special treatment."
"Not special. I'd do that for anyone talking inappropriately about anyone. You get absolutely no special treatment. I've never given you any special treatment." Taking your chin he tilts your face towards him before he places a soft kiss against your lips.
"Hmm, so you offer that to everyone, do you?"
"Well, everyone is a little broad. More like a select group. You, Finn, Rey, Snap, BB, that really cute medic we met in Yavin," he shrugs with a teasing smile as you roll your eyes. “Now stop overthinking.”
Poe was right, you were over thinking, and as annoying as his teasing could be, you know it comes from a good place in his heart. He simply wants you to see that it's not all bad. Nothing you could do now would change anything that already happened. All you could do was, as Poe does, make the best of the situation.
Still, the embarrassment gnaws a little at your thoughts, though quieter, still there for now.
"Can we eat in your room?"
"Only if we are naked," Poe grins, making you dissolve into laughter.
"Stop that, right now!" You warn through giggles.
"I've been away for almost a month! I've been storing it all up. You are in for a lonnnnnng night, baby," he winks, and for a moment, you`re laughing so hard you forget anything had gone wrong at all today.
~
"I'm sorry," Poe offers later that night, his fingers trailing up and down your back as you lay in his bed, curled up against his side, his heartbeat drumming in your ear as you lean your head on his chest, half asleep.
You hum in question, wondering what he's talking about.
"Earlier. It was my fault we got caught like that. I should have waited. I was just excited to see you and being impulsive. I’ll try and keep my hands to myself for a little longer next time.”
You lean up on your elbow to look at him, frowning in confusion and feeling the tendrils of guilt in your own belly that he feels he's somehow to blame. The last thing you wanted was for Poe to feel he couldn't be his usual, affectionate self.
"There's nothing you need to apologise for. We were both willing participants. I was excited to see you too. You’ve no idea how much I missed you."
Poe's hand slides around the back of your neck, pulling you down to him as he mumbles, "I missed you too, baby," against your mouth before he kisses you.
When he finally lets you go, you have to take a moment, feeling a little giddy, whether with love or lack of oxygen, you aren't sure.
"Anyway, I like you being impulsive," you assure him with a soft smile.
"Then I rescind my apology," Poe chuckles as you snuggle back down against his side, trying to get comfy again.
Except now you have a problem. No matter where you place yourself, you can't quite get comfy enough to fall asleep. Something just feels wrong.
You let out a noise of annoyance, sitting up.
"Turn over," you instruct, laughing as Poe raises a questioning eyebrow, his lips upturning in a familiar grin.
"Is this going a sex thing? Because you know I can stay awake a little longer. I'm sure I can help tire you o-"
"Get your mind out of the gutter," You laugh, cutting him off and pressing your hands against his arm, trying to manually roll him over, onto his side.
"So it's not a sex thing? I'm disappointed," Poe sighs over dramatically, ignoring your pathetic attempts to move him.
"I want to cuddle you!" You explain with an exasperated sigh.
"Oh, that's what we are calling it these days? Okay, well, we can 'cuddle' as much as you like," he grins, eyes crinkling with amusement as he makes air quotes at you. You make a show of dramatically rolling your eyes in response.
"No, Poe! I mean I want to hold you!"
"Hold which bit?" He wiggles his eyebrows as you try and bite back your laughter. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, telling yourself you are grateful he's home and he just needs to get this out of his system.
When you open them again you fix him with a stern look.
"Alright, alright!" Poe holds his hands up in surrender, clearly deciding he might be pushing too far now. "You want me to be the little spoon?" He asks, obviously having known exactly what you wanted from the first time you asked.
"I want you to be the little spoon." You nod in confirmation. Poe's expression softens from teasing into something that makes your chest ache with love. It's as though the seriousness of the last few years of war drop away, and the boy Poe used to be, stares at you with hopeless adoration.
"I like that idea better," he says simply, before he rolls over with his back to face you. "But I'm still open to the sex thing." He adds, making you snort as you try to contain your laughter, knowing it will only encourage him.
Once Poe is settled, you curl up behind him, wrapping an arm over his chest, tucking your legs in behind his, cuddling up close to him as you press your face between his shoulder blades.
"Don't think I've ever been the little spoon before. I like it," Poe sighs contentedly, his hands resting over yours wrapped around his chest, holding you in place.
You smile and press a soft kiss to his back, "I like it too."
A near silence settles over you both, the only sound in the room your steady breathing as you hold each other. You can feel your eyes finally starting to drift shut, but you also know Poe is not asleep yet, as his fingers continue to gently caress your arm, almost distractedly.
“What are you thinking, Flyboy?” You mumble sleepily against his skin, not wanting to fall asleep if he has something on his mind.
"I was just wondering," he mumbles quietly, “if you think Leru is thinking about us right now?"
"Go to sleep!" You sigh against his back, feeling him shake with barely contained laughter.
"I definitely think he enjoyed it a little bit."
"Sleep!" You hiss, refusing to play into his teasing again.
There's a moment of silence, one in which you think that he's given up with the teasing and finally decided to get some rest. That is until -
"Do you think he wants to join us sometime?"
"POE!"
You can't help but smile as his laughter fills the room. Insufferable, infuriating, pain in the ass. You had missed him, so very much.
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ganondoodle · 4 months ago
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(more elden ring radahn thoughts)
on whats really left of him .. and his soul? general too many thoughts about him- long post and probably incoherent, but you know me, im never coherent anyway, many thoguhts, head full, quite literally
in base game, he has lost his mind we are told, and clearly he isnt like he used to be, but we really dont know the extend of it hes clearly capable of fighting rather .. controlled; its not like hes biting and clawing after you, he still uses his swords (and bow, sth he doesnt even have in dlc) and magic, we know even in this condition he held back the stars AND still fought you hard at the same time (i know undead people can still fight in elden ring, pls hear me out)
and i wonder .. how much of his mind did he really lose, obviously some since he eats people now which isnt sth he used to do, but ... we dont know how talkactive he used to be, we get one (two? i can only think of one) quotes from him in the descriptions of an item, he might have been a man of few words already, so him not talking at all isnt that good of a measure (not saying its the only measure, just wanted to mention), resorting to eating people that atack you might just be an act of desperation too
we get told he kills friend and foe alike (and im not questioning that really) but in his cutscene we see him drag along the bodies of cleanrot knights, who are under direct dommand of malenia, and by extend miquella, im guessing they kept sending them after him to finish him off; now knowing that him dying means being sent to the realm of shadow, to miquella, and NOT knowing if he wanted that, i feel that that detail has grown in importance-
when you start the fight, hes rather defensive, shooting at you almost immediately upon you entering the arena with no extra cutscene either, what he shoots at you a long ranged gravitation bolts that stop you dead in tracks with a very high stagger rate and if you are on torrent it stagger you off of it; i know it could be just tactical and bc all he knows now is to fight as best as he can BUT, you could also look at it as a defensive strategy, to keep you away, and away from him .. even though you are not told he is afraid to die and he eats people now, sure he could come over there and snack on you once he shot you enough times, but the important thing is that you as a threat to his life is eliminated AND he doesnt seem to have some sort of insatiable hunger for people that makes him charge and snap at you immediately, there could be self control there still (if i wanted to reach a little further i could also say he could be trying to keep you away from him not jsut to save himself but to save you from him too, but thats a reach and i know that)
once you get close enough he usually changes to fire a salve of arrows that fall from the sky and follows you around, also high in stagger- its only when you get too close that he pulls out his swords and charges at you
his arena is interestign as well, its a piece of land in caelid that is inaccessible (unless you can fly?) from all sides, a barren battlefield only reached through a teleporter, im not sure if it is the same place as when he fought malenia or not (wasnt that in the middle of caelid where you find the rot needle?) but i doubt anyone could have put him there against his will, so did he .. go there himself? or stay there for that matter- how quickly do you lose yourself when infected with rot? and how quickly for him, since hes a demigod? did he intentionally isolate himself there? make it harder to reach him for both friend and foe alike?
another point is that most enemies (as far as i can think of) that are infected with rot/are in caelid also deal rot damage, radahn does not, hes even really vunerable to it in fact, its an intersting detail to me bc he only uses either standard attacks or gravitational magic, given that hes been in this condition for a long time and its caelid id expect the rot to be somewhat important there, but its not
how much has he really lost his mind, is he really as mindless as jerren makes him out to be? is he trying to stay alive no matter what, isolating himself on an (almost) island and only living off what comes there, which is usually people that want to kill him, be it friend or foe, all are out for his life one way or another, could it be defensive ... desperate even? no one but him and miquella/malenia seem to know that him dying means hes put into the land of shadow, where miquella is waiting for him; (why wouldnt he tell anyone? was he not able to? was he afraid to upset the golden order by spilling it out?) could he know that would be the end of him having his own will, knowing what miquella can do to people? ... perhaps even .... having been manipulated by him before when he was less experienced and more in direct vicinity to him, to promise something he doesnt actually want?
this is a reach too but ... could he be trying to make himself unusable for miquella, theres no real cure for the rot, could he have decided to stay alive as long as he can to both destroy his own body (and soul even?) intentionally so it cant be used against his will, like a desperate act to destroy himself rather than become someones unwilling puppet? did he succeed in both somewhat but not enough to become fully worthless and unsalvageable? just how much would he have had to destroy himself for him to become useless to miquella, is there even a limit? would he have been "revived" no matter what, no matter what little was left of him?
how is he mindless, yet his soul it taken when you kill him, his body beyond repair, but his soul intact? that seems like the opposite of what he is, and you are told he is, in the base game to me (maybe hes just fallen into madness i guess, but given the soul is like .. the self, he should be mad in the dlc too then, unless miquella can just pick out the parts he likes and throw away the rest .... which isnt impossible either)
now, there could be the argument that he might have actually agreed to it, hes been a big fan of godfrey, who is a consort to marika, a god, and little more than her pawn as well, his 'young' look you see at the end of the dlc could also be connected to it, the braids i thought where a sign of miquellas influence could also be just how he looked back then, an imitation of godfreys hairstyle- and we dont know for sure he didnt used to have them even after gettign older since they could just have loosened after spending so much time in a zombie lite condition (or is it?)-- but his portrait in volcano manor doesnt seem to have them either, hes also sporting the armor you see in base game (i think) there the fact that, according to godfrey, strength is the only thing that matters and to become a consort you need to be the strongest of all to be worthy, could also be interpreted that way- though i dont if he would have wanted to replace the golden order, he was a fan and follower of it, did he even think of it the implications? did he even know? was he just young and stupid? (very possible tbh)
then theres the idea of there being less left of his soul, so in the dlc he is barely if anything at all, himself, both in body AND soul, how much was there even left after all that time in caelid, he is silent except for like two grunts he does also in base game (he has more sounds there too), completely unexpressive, with very few gravitation magic, in the second phase miquella literally snakes his arms around his neck, almost every single attack is filled with light magic, clearly coming from miquella and not him (i know bringing up leonard might seem overemphasizing his role, but in these games what information you get is very scarce so every bit you do learn is important and was written intentionally- but he stayed together with him in caelid, all his attacks involve him in one way or another, he only started to learn that magic for leonard, so radahn didnt have too abandon him as he got too large to ride him, he uses gravitation in dlc too, so it means that at the point of his life that he is recreated as he already had leonard or that that is a sign of whatever is left of his soul that comes from a much older him, and if it is, its very little) (also this is a reach too but most enemies with horses have separate health bars, he doesnt, he and leonard basically share the same health bar, literally inseperable uwu)
"theres no evidence hes mindcontrolled" people say to me. have you seen him? how he acts? or more, how he DOESNT act? that miquellas entire deal is THAT HE BEWITCHES PEOPLE, ffs he STEALS YOUR HEART if you get grabbed by him twice in the dlc fight- theres no evidence he wasnt either, you are told they had a vow, but you never know what exactly that was, when it was (in the memory of miquella wishing for radahn to be his consort you only see miquella- was it a silly wish between kids tha miquella never grew out of?), in what circumstances, you never get to hear radahn say anything about it, its completely left out, thats a little unrelieable to me! idk!
but fine, maybe he did agree to it, maybe he thought being a consort to a god would make him just as cool as godfrey, maybe he fought malenia, who was said to be undefeated, only to prove he had the strength worthy of being a consort and it backfired when malenia infected him with the rot (why then? also he doesnt look exactly thrilled about what she say to him in the trailer but that could be just me too i guess lolololol), maybe he wanted to die all along but his pride meant he couldnt just let the rot win, maybe the festival was really what he wished for and told no one what the real goal was, maybe he wasnt rotten in the first place and just acted that part so he had an excuse to die without having to fight with all his strength as even the undefeated warrior wasnt able to beat him, maybe becoming a consort to miquella was worth leaving leonard behind to him, maybe he wanted to be nothing but a pawn to a god, to be used and discarded, maybe he really believed in miquellas wish for a "gentle" world (aka all love miquella)
it makes sense, im not going to lie about that, but the other does too- and in the end, we will never know what the truth is! we will never know if that was what he wanted, or if he was manipulated even back then, i wish we could to see his part, his voice, his will, but we never will, and it doesnt matter, in the end it doesnt matter if he wanted it or not, the fact remains hes a silent frankensteins monster of miquella, expression- and personalityless, a voiceless pawn to a god that steals everyones hearts
i dont need to be "right", i like to think about things, i am in the camp of he didnt want to or decided against it, but it doesnt really matter, even if miyazaki himself went onto stage and loudly declared that yes it was all planned from the start and radahn was in on it the whole time- i still would think the other way around it, i jsut think about him alot, i want to question things instead of taking everythign i hear at face value, especially when its very strangely told from one side, i will question every little thing if i only hear one side, no matter how much sense it makes or not, it makes me suspicious
(i some of this can be attributed about purely gameplay stuff, like the change in armor so he doesnt look the same etc, but i dont care, i like to think about the implications it brings with it, intentionally or not)
and there he is in a barren battlefield, eating the remains of whoever enters his isolated cage with the intent to kill him, never succeeding, howling like a lonely old wolf at the sky, is it desperation about a fate he cannot escape, grief about what hes done or failed to do, is it a call of yearning? for freedom?
we dont know. and it doesnt matter.
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summahsunlight · 4 months ago
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Perhaps It's Fate, Part 26
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Rating: T, to be safe
Word Count: 2,142
Summary: After joining the Resistance as a mechanic, you were happy to keep to yourself, until a little orange and white bb unit and his master wander into your workshop one day.
Pairings: Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader
Start from the beginning!
Taglist: @ms-dont-care​, @starless-eyes-remain​, @elmoakepoke​, @marvelobsessiononastick​, @kiaralein​, @softly-sad​, @totalpoedameron, @ordinarymom1​, @sevvysaurus​, @spider-starry​, @liadamerondjarin​, @jingyuhearteu​, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling​, @paintballkid711​, @ren-ni​, @lostinwonderland314​, @elite4cekalyma​,@elisabethbathgate​, @imabeautifulbutterfly
I'm back! I know it's been FOREVER. I hope this new chapter is worth it :) Reblogs, comments, etc. are appreciated!
Poe knew he had royally screwed up.  He knew the moment you tearfully fled the command center. He knew he should have gone after you, to look for you immediately. 
Instead, he stayed. You would come around eventually and seek him out when you ready. Poe could almost bank on this--so he was a bit surprised when he left the extremely long briefing with Leia--you were no where to be found. In fact, no one had seen you for hours. Not even BB-8, who always managed to find you to make sure you were alright.
He needed to find you. He couldn’t leave on the next mission without talking to you--there was a very real chance he wouldn’t come back from this mission and the last thing he wanted was for your last memory of him to be him angry and telling you to leave.  But the longer he looked for you, the more Poe was beginning to believe that you had left. Rushing back to the command center he cornered the unsuspecting communications officer and demanded to know if you had boarded the last transport off planet.
“The last transport went to Mon Cal, sir,” the officer reported. 
“Was she on it?” Poe growled, desperately.
“I’m not sure, I can pull up the passenger manifest.”
“Then pull it up!”
Fear flashed through the officer’s eyes before he quickly got to work on the commander’s request. Poe anxiously paced behind him. What if you had really gone? What was he going to do? There was no time to chase after you--he needed to leave soon--the Resistance needed to find that way finder so they could end this war once and for all--and there was literally no time to spare.
Briefly he thought about letting Finn and Rey go--she could pilot, he’d seen her skills, but damn it--they were both so green when it came to missions. Perhaps an ounce of military training between them and he was being lenient on Finn’s training with the First Order. He’d been trained to just follow orders, never think for himself...
...the communication’s officer cleared his throat, alerting Poe that he was done with his task. Poe stopped pacing and nervously swallowed. “Well?”
“Her name wasn’t on the manifest, sir.”
“Great. That means she’s still here on base.”
“Not...not necessarily. If she was a last minute passenger...”
“What do you mean by that?”
The officer took a deep breath, winced slightly as he replied, “The crew might not have put her name on the final manifest that they passed off to us because that would have meant having to resubmit all their flight plans again and delayed their departure. It happens all the time, sir. I’m surprised you didn’t know about that.”
Poe felt like he had been punched in the gut. You were gone; with his intense desire to protect you, to give you the life you deserved--he’d pushed you away, probably for good. Before he could even think straight, he asked when he could get clearance to take off. He was going to Mon Cal, he was going after you--the mission, the Resistance be damned.
****
If you were being honest with yourself, you were devastated that Poe didn’t show up to stop you from getting on the transport. Well, it's not like you told him that you were actually leaving, you thought, bitterly, wiping at the tears in your eyes.
Or perhaps he didn't love you as much as you thought he did. Maybe he really did want you to go. Somehow, you managed to beg your way onto the transport to Mon Cal--the last one to leave base that afternoon--despite not being on the original passenger manifest. The crew seemed annoyed by that; apparently they didn't want to add your name and delay departure. You suggested they didn't add your name--you didn't want to be found or followed.
"Fair enough," the captain said with a shrug. "Get on board."
One last glance to see if Poe had emerged from the base; one last little bit of hope dashed when you didn't see him. He doesn't love you, you're such an idiot for ever believing it.
Crying, silently, you found a hidden spot on the transport. No one could watch your fall apart back here, behind a large crate. There had been some questioning eyes when you boarded, however, no one actually said anything to you. For all they knew, you were on a mission for the Resistance--not trying to get away from the man that had broken your heart into a million little pieces.
At least now Poe was free from the burden that you were. He got put all of his attention on the war and the Resistance--he could find someone that could take care of his heart better than you. He could have that peaceful life after the war was over with someone else; he could bring that person home to his father and proudly introduce them--he could parade them around Yavin IV with pride beaming in his brown eyes--he could have the life he deserved.
You had been living a dream with him, a dream that you had to wake up from eventually.
"Sorry folks," a voice said, making you realize someone had been speaking. "We're experiencing some mechanical problems; they're working on it but our departure is going to be delayed."
A low rumble spread throughout the cabin as the passengers grumbled about the delay--you felt a little bit of relief--you weren't entirely sure you wanted to leave the Resistance behind, after all you had made some friends here and you wanted to help. You told yourself that if Finn, Rose or Rey were aware that you thinking of leaving--they would have come to stop you
Familiar beeps echoed across the base and from your hiding spot you were able to glance up and see Poe, rushing to his fighter--rushing off on another mission not rushing to make sure you didn't walk out of his life forever.
****
Poe stormed towards his fighter, BB-8 on his heels. If he hurried he could get to Mon Cal not long after the transport--that would give him enough time to find you and tell you that he was sorry, that he was so in love with you that he was terrified he was going to be the reason you died.
BB-8 was screeching at him and Poe spun about on his heel, ready to shout at the little droid that they were wasting time--until he saw what the droid had been trying to tell him--the transport had not left yet. You weren't gone after all. He could see a team of mechanics working on the ship, the passengers had disembarked and were milling about waiting for the opportunity to reboard and be on their way. His deep brown eyes scanned the crowd looking for you and his heart sank when he didn't see you at first--and then, he caught sight of you, the sunlight catching in your hair...
...Poe took off like a shot, dodging in and out of workers and ships trying to reach you.
As he got closer, he called out your name and when you looked up at him, his heart shattered. He would never get the image of you, eyes swollen from crying, the devastation reflecting back at him--and then the realization that he had been the one to do this to you. Not the First Order, not Kylo Ren or General Hux--but him.
You ducked into the brush behind you and disappeared. Poe clenched his fists as a pair of mechanics, unaware of what was going, stepped in his path, blocking him from following you into the jungle. Gritting his teeth, he lowered his shoulder and pushed his way passed the mechanics and then into the jungle.
He saw you running up ahead on the path. Poe caught up to quickly, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you back towards him. "Please, sweetheart, please don't go," he begged. "I didn't mean it--I regret that I even put the thought in your head."
Violently, you yanked your hand back, noticing that Poe's hand dropped to his side and that his shoulders sank a little. "Why should I stay? It's been hours since we got back from that mission, hours since you told me to leave--now all of a sudden you regret that?"
"I regretted it immediately," Poe whispered.
"Sure you did," you snapped at him, tears running down your cheeks.
"I did; I should have followed you, I should have told you..."
"But you didn't Poe! Just admit it--you don't love me!"
Poe felt sick to his stomach. Even if he convinced you to stay, would you even want to stay with him? He was about to lose you, he knew it from the bottom of his heart. "Is that what you think? That I don't love you?"
Wiping the tears from your eyes, you sharply nodded your head. "Isn't it obvious? You've been so angry at me--I'm a burden to you--I'm in the way of your work with the Resistance. I'm a nobody, Poe, just... just got back to base and forget about me. It's just better this way."
"Better? You think this is better? Breaking both our hearts like this?"
"You'll find someone else! Someone better!"
"There's that word again! I don't want better! There is no one better! I want you!"
Drawing your arms around yourself, you hugged your shaking body, tightly. Tears freely streamed down your cheeks and you felt him take a step closer to you. "Poe," you pleaded with him, "please, please don't make this harder."
Poe heard his commlink going off; Finn must have been looking for him, but he couldn't leave on that mission--not now--he could not leave the base without making sure you'd be there when he returned. He took another step towards you, making the small space between you even smaller. "I know...I know I haven't...I've been terrible towards you recently. Angry. But it's not you I'm angry at, sweetheart. I hate this whole situation. I hate that I can't give you a safe place to call home, I hate that every time I leave--I might not come back to you. But I have never, ever stopped loving you. Please, sweetheart, you have to believe me when I say that."
You shook your head; why couldn't he just let this go? Why couldn't he see it the way you saw it? It was better this way--even if he now hated that word. "Just go on your mission, Poe. It's more important than me. Just forget me."
"No," he said, softly, firmly.
"No?" you repeated, looking at him through watery eyes.
"I'm not going to just forget about you."
"You should; you'll be able to focus on your mission."
Heavily sighing, Poe closed the last little bit of space between you. His fingers ghosted along your arms before he gently grasped your wrists in his strong hands. "You are my mission, sweetheart. Bringing an end to the First Order, bringing peace to the galaxy--making sure it's safe for you--that's my mission. I have to go on this mission with Finn and Rey--if we don't find a way to stop the reborn Emperor and the Final Order--there will never be peace. Promise me, you'll be here when I get back."
Crying, you buried your face against his shirt and you felt one of his hands let go of your wrist and his arm snake around your waist. You couldn't manage any words, just a simple nod of your head.
Poe pulled back, kissing your forehead. His comm was going off once again and he knew he couldn't delay any longer. "Promise me," he whispered, now kissing your lips softly. His hand holding onto to your wrist let go and his thumb wiped your tears away. "Sweetheart, please."
You sniffled, a few more fresh tears falling. "I...I promise...I'll be here when you get back."
Letting you go, Poe stepped back. His eyes locked with yours as he answered his comm and said he was on his way. Reaching underneath his scarf, he pulled the chain from around his neck. You saw the gold of his mother's wedding ring reflecting the sunlight and then he slipped the chain around your neck. "Keep this safe for me?"
"Shara's ring? I'll...I'll make sure it's safe."
"I love you; I'll say as often as I have too until you believe it. And then I'll keep saying it so you remember it."
Clutching tightly to the ring, you stood there while he kissed you, making another promise to come back to you and reassuring you once again that he did love you. Then he was gone--heading back through the jungle--leaving you standing behind, silently tears running down your cheeks.
Promise me, Poe, that you'll come back.
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beingsuneone · 10 months ago
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PART TWO!!
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Tragedy: Pt. 2
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PART ONE | PART TWO
SYNOPSIS: mourning the ‘loss’ of your husband is difficult, especially when you aren’t entirely sure what happened to him. PART TWO
FANDOM: ACOTAR
PAIRING(S): Rhysand x Fem!reader
RATING: G
MEMBERS MENTIONED:
GENRE/AU: I don’t even know y’all. It’s not fluff. It kinda of more angst but not entirely that either.
WORD COUNT: 2.8k
WARNINGS: hhggggg uhm, mentions of death, mentions of drinking,
A/N: JUNE DONT LOOK. ITS SPOILERS.
DEDICATIONS: jjjbdbhshdhshsjskksjsjsjsjjs
CREDITS: n/a
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Fourty-nine years, for a Fae, isn't significant, just a blip in their immortal lives.
Fourty-nine years with a missing Mate and a bond that’s indiscernibly dead, is a much different story. 49 years of mourning a lover you don’t know is dead, of missing a man that you could still one day have again.
In Velaris, you and the others have only the most basic of knowledge, obtained previous to being locked within the city.
You know that a fearsome general named Amarantha had infiltrated Prythian and demanded that all the high lords come live under the mountain. You know that Rhysand must have given himself up to protect Velaris.
You know that the whole of Prythian had begun to be razed just before Rhysand locked you all away.
The other knowledge you have is based only on assumptions.
Rhysand’s under the mountain, Rhysand locked you in. Rhysand is stuck. Or dead.
You don’t know why the mating bond has gone dead without actually going dead, or why there is no line to tug anymore, no mental wall to caress, no voice to respond to.
Silence. Terrifying, heartbreaking silence.
For you, 49 years had felt longer than the lifetimes you have already lived, and longer than the centuries that will come.
“Y/N?” Mor slips through the door, pulling you from your thoughts.
You smile at her, though only half-heartedly. “Good Morning, Mor; to what do I owe this visit?”
She grins back at you. “I know that you still fret over Rhysand– we all do– but I heard that some of the citizen’s have been organizing a festival to celebrate him.” her face drops only a little as she sighs. “I thought it might be a nice change of pace for us.”
You take a shuddering breath as the reason for the festival dawns on you. “It’s almost the anniversary of the day he disappeared.”
It’s a statement. Mor nods. “The people still have hope that he’ll return.” she pulls you up out of your bed, leading you towards your dresser. She retrieves a dress that she knows is one of your favourites and shoves it into your arms. “So should we.”
You know she’s right– Rhysand could very well still come home– but something in your mind tells you that something is not right.
His emotions are not there for you to read anymore, like his mind had been blocked off.
It almost felt like there was no bond anymore.
Even so, Mor was right; you needed a distraction— something to take your mind off of your position as High Lady, and the details of your husband’s disappearance.
Mor slips out the door as you slip into your dress. It’s peak Night Court style— covered in shimmering stars and made of beautiful midnight fabric. It had been your first anniversary present from Rhys.
Still your favourite after all this time.
You huff at your reflection and shake yourself free from your thoughts.
Your people are waiting.
They need reassurance just as much as you do.
……
The square is decorated in purple and silver finery, the classic colours of the night court splashed in each eyeful.
The stones beneath your feet glimmer with a sort of dust that catches the sun like a gemstone and the plant life is strung with a thin string of glimmering sliver.
There’s a wall painted with a chalk portrait, a night sky, deep and dark with an insightful moon looking down on the land.
And, finally, in the middle of the square, is a beautifully painted portrait of your dear Rhysand; the likeness is sickening, but only in the way that it makes you miss him even more fiercely than before— it's an otherwise incredible painting.
The faces of your citizens reflect much more hope than you yourself hold. You see the few children of velaris, running and playing with chalk just a few paces from the festivities.
Most of the adults are already drunk off of whatever alcohol they could first find and Amren is standing bitterly in a corner, nursing a cup with— what you assume is— some sort of blood in it.
Cassian is very loudly drunk, his arm slung over Azriel’s shoulder while Azriel tries to pretend he’s annoyed.
Mor smiles sincerely at you and shoves a cup of something into your hand. “It was made by one of the citizens, they say it took them a month to perfect the brew.”
You peer into the cup; even the drinks at this event replicate the night sky. It has the same shimmering silver, swirling within a midnight blue base. It smells divine.
There is a small platform with two chairs at the edge of the square, blocked off by a navy rope. It would be yours and Rhysand’s seats, but today, it is just yours.
Although you're sure that your friends will all take their turns bothering you if you are sitting up there. Rhysand’s chair will not remain empty.
“Come on,’ Mor says, walking beside you up to the platform.
Once you're up there, you catch nearly everyone’s attention. Cassian and Azriel immediately move to stand near the platform and Amren settles into Rhysand’s chair like a cat would settle right where you don’t need them to.
However, you suppose it’s not the time in the evening because everyone resumes their previous activities not long after.
Cassian walks up and locks you in a headlock. “Hey! How are you doing?”
You sigh and smile once he lets you go. “I’m… Alright. This festival is stunning.”
“It is.” Mor chimes in, still staring out at the crowd.
There’s even a string of vendors lining the square, some with food and some with other wares and frivolities.
“How are you Cassian? Azriel?” You ask, looking past Cassian.
Azriel shrugs slightly. “Good.”
Cassian holds up his cup of whatever it is and grins. “I can’t complain.”
“I’m glad.” You respond absent-mindedly, finally taking the first sip of your beverage. You hum in delight. “That’s lovely. Mor, you must show me who made this.”
“We’ll do our rounds, and I’ll introduce you when you cross her path.”
Cassian leaves to mingle once more but Azriel sticks close-by, Amren stays in her spot with a book in her hand and Mor chats idly with someone near.
You wipe your palms on your dress, even though they aren’t sweaty and begin your rounds.
You talk to several people, conversations that involve idle chatter, Rhysand and even some problems you have to consider as High Lady; but those are far and few in between.
Finally you make it to a small booth, lined with cups and a few tea cakes, all fitting in the night court theme.
It’s the same swirling drink you hold in your hand.
“Hello, My lady.” The old woman behind the counter greets you. She is an older fae, much older than you.
“Hello,” you greet, smiling graciously at her. “The wine is amazing, were you the one who made it?”
She grins a toothy grin at you and nods. “I’ve been trying to make it for years and finally perfected it in honour of our High Lord.”
Your sweet smile drops just a fraction and you know she sees it by the way she begins to study you.
“I’m sure our High Lord is alive and well, my dear, that boy was always resilient.”
You breathe, a sort of laugh.
Rhysand may very well be alive, but if he were well, you were sour he would have returned already. Still, you must ease their minds. “I’m sure he is. Rhysand is…” you trail off, not having enough to describe how you see your husband.
She nods knowingly. “I know, My lady, you truly love him and his absence is very painful.” She passes you one of the small cakes. “Here, take this.” you start to each for a few coins but she shakes her head. “Please, my treat. I know well how you must feel.”
Your eyebrows furrow as you gently take the cake from her hands. “If you don’t mind my asking, what do you mean?”
There’s a forlorn look behind her wise eyes as she sighs. “I do not mind your asking, My Lady.” She continues as you take a small bite of the cake. The woman is talented when it comes to cake too, you find. “Many years ago, I had a mate, he was everything to me; we were together for thousands of years before he suddenly disappeared. I had no knowledge of where he might be, just a faint bond that I would try to tug on.
“I had hope that he would come home but… eventually I discovered that he had been murdered by a human after they had tortured him for months.”
Your swallow thickly. “I am so sorry.”
She shakes her head once more. “It was a long time ago, dear. What I'm trying to say is, you need to hold onto your hope, no matter how much time has passed.”
You purse your lips introspectively and nod slowly. “I’m trying to. I want him to come home.”
She gives you one last comforting smile. “He will. Our High Lord will come home.”
Your eyes burn and you have to choke back the urge to cry. “Thank you— for the cake, and the insight.”
“Anytime, My Lady.”
……
the day progressed into the night, teh children long in bed in their home by the time it hits midnight. You’re dancing slowly with Mor, a comforting waltz that you probably would have danced with Rhysand.
You can just imagine him here, pulling you in by your waist, gently kissing your cheek before telling you that you look beautiful and how much he loves you. The way his deep purple eyes would have shone with his love for you.
He would have loved this.
You would have loved watching him love this.
“I think it’s time for a speech.” Mor says, halting your dance and pulling you up to. the platform.
You settle into the chair while Mor grabs Azriel and Cassian.
Cassian whistles loudly to catch the crowd's attention.
when everyone is watching you stand, taking a deep breath. “I just want to begin by saying that this festival is breath-taking and every person who put effort into this festival is wonderful and talented.” You pause. “I just know Rhysand would have loved this.”
The crowd murmurs a bit and you see a few worried expressions. You know you must calm their fears even though you cannot calm your own.
“A wise woman told me tonight that I cannot let go of my hope— I have to believe that our High Lord will return to us, and so must all of you.” You pause. “Rhysand is out there somewhere and he is fighting to come back to us. He’s strong, smart and resilient; so please, do not worry for his safety, continue to celebrate him. Celebrate your past with him and your future, just as I will.”
The worried expressions seem to have softened which make you loosen up a bit. Mor looks at you encouragingly, expecting you to continue.
“In the meantime, while we wait for him to return, I am here to help you with whatever problems you may have. I am here to protect Velaris from any threat that may arrive.” You pause one last time and take a deep breath. “And lastly, thank you all so much for putting so much thought and care into this celebration of Rhysand.”
It’s silent for a second before a few fae clap and then everyone claps for you and shouts reassurances to you and everyone else in the crowds. You dismiss everyone and the party starts in full swing once more; expect now, it’s more uproarious, more joyful– your speech must have had the attended affect.
When you look at the portrait of Rhysand, you don’t feel so sad anymore.
……
You startle as the front door opens loudly, you wonder who it is but decide it’s probably just one of your friends. It’s been a few months since that wonderful festival, and you managed to maintain that unrelenting hope that your husband would some day walk through that front just as you’re sure one of your friends is doing now.
“Mor?” You call, assuming she was the most likely to come. “Is that you?”
Your feet patter softly, slowly as you walk out of your bedroom; you’re dressed in your Pajama’s but it really doesn’t matter.
It’s nothing that they haven’t seen before.
The silence unnerves you as you walk down the hall, Mor would always respond back. Maybe it’s Azriel? But, why would he come here alone?
Unless something bad has happened.
Your heartbeat quickens and you’re rushing to turn the corner into the living area.
The sight before you is worse than anything you imagined.
“Rhysand?” You squeak, feeling equally happy that he’s alive and upset at his silence.
He looks up at you; you see the trauma in eyes, the suffering and torture that you know he must’ve had to endure.
Rhysand doesn’t even get a word out before he drops to his knees; the sound permeates through the wooden floor as you join him down there.
You sit down and pull him into your chest, stroking his hair and listening as he sobs silently.
Your heart breaks for him, all over again and in a completely different, more angry way than before; you desperately wish you could hurt Amarantha for what she did to him. Whatever it might have been. It must have been her that kept him away for so long.
You’ll learn when he’s ready to tell you, you’re sure.
“Rhysand, My Love?” You whisper, still holding him close to you.
He pulls back and looks up at you, his mouth seems stuck, like there aren’t any words he could say to describe what he’s feeling or what happened; maybe there isn’t.
You gently pull him to his feet and lead him to your bedroom where you sit him down on the bed; he stares at the wall as you grab some new clothes for him.
You set the clean clothes down besides him and nudge his arms apart so you can take off his old clothes.
He complies; let's you unbutton his shirt and pull it off, pulls off his pants when he needs to, and then he slips the new clothes on.
“We have much to talk about, y/n.” He says, even his words sound broken.
You shake your head. “Save it for another time, My Dear Rhys. For now, let’s sleep. Okay?”
He nods.
….
Rhysand’s tale is long and winded; he tells of a human woman who fell in love with your brother, saved all of Prythian and ultimately died to save all of you.
The high lords had all used their powers to bring her back to life, turning her Fae and allowing her to live out her life with the man she quite literally died for.
He tells you how Amarantha had had an infatuation with Tamlin and had apparently cursed all of the spring court to wear masks for fifty years or as soon as he was able to get a human to genuinely say that she loved him. He had, evidently, been successful. She had also intended to keep the citizens of Prythian, high lords included, trapped under that mountain and under her power foever. He also tells you that he had tried to cut off your bond as best he could to avoid any detection of it and, once his magic was dampened, he couldn’t access it himself.
“I made a deal with her,” Rhysand says, “I told her I would help her make it out of there alive if she promised me a week of every month.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Why did you do that? Take weeks of her time, I mean?”
“I’m not sure. I think maybe I wanted to save her from Tamlin before he could hurt her.” He pauses, “She seems convinced that she loves him.”
You ask her name and Rhysand complies.
Feyre Archeron. An interesting and fitting name for the woman who saved you all from an eternity of suffering. Especially the people under the mountain.
Especially Rhysand.
“It’s weird.” Rhysand, tugs at your sleeve and pulls you down into his lap. “Our deal made me able to hear into her mind, much like our mating bond. But still quite different.”
You nod absent-mindedly and run your hand through his hair. “I couldn’t tell if you were dead all these years. The bond was broken but it wasn't gone. I was so scared you were dead.”
“I’m sorry, My Love. I wish I could’ve talked to you. Maybe I wouldn’t be as hurt as I am now.” He buries his face into your neck, breathing deeply.
You stroke his back gently, not responding, letting him speak his mind.
How do you console someone after all that?
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All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.
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triptuckers · 1 year ago
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lost and found - ezra bridger
Request: nope Pairing:  ezra bridger x jedi!reader Summary:  along with the remainder of the ghost crew and ahsoka, you're trying to find ezra Warnings:  HEAVY SPOILERS FOR AHSOKA S1!!! im warning u dont read this if u havent seen all of it yet Word count:  1.1K A/N: I survived the war (im posting fics again) but at what cost (brainrot has taken over)
your music is blaring through the speakers of your ship as you're working. though your ship isn't in need of any repairs, you're always finding new modifications and additions to upgrade it. at this rate, it's unrecognisable as the ship you once got from a sketchy dealer on an outer rim planet.
working on your ship is also a way to distract yourself. when you're focused on working with your hands, your mind doesn't wander off.
it doesn't wander off to hera and jacen aboard the ghost. it doesn't wander off to sabine and ahsoka on her T-6 shuttle. but mostly, it doesn't wander off to ezra. you try not to think about the fact hera is on an unauthorised mission, that you haven't heard from sabine and ahsoka in a while which is unlike them, and that you feel like you're not even a little bit closer to finding ezra.
even though you haven't seen him for years, you refuse to believe he's gone. you tell yourself you would simply know if he didn't make it. before you lost him, the two of you shared a strong bond in the force. you figured if something had happened to him, you would have felt it.
but after all of these years, it's hard to hold on to hope. you really want to. but at some point logic has to take over.
though recently, hope has sparked in you yet again. with the map ahsoka found, the chances of finding ezra have increased. you are optimistic again.
but the search hasn't been without danger. even now, you're worried.
which is why you're working on your ship. otherwise you'd just pace around or stare off into the distance with your mind running around in circles getting lost in the "what ifs".
a faint beeping sounds pulls you out of your thoughts. you get up from your position underneath one of the main consoles and get your comm.
'general syndulla for commander y/l/n.' comes hera's voice.
'go for commander y/l/n.' you say.
'hey y/n, where are you right now?'
'just working on my ship in the main hangar back on base.'
'new modifications again?'
'yeah, yeah, I know. "a good ship doesn't need modifications." well, I like them. the ghost could use some upgrades as well, you know.'
'no thank you, my ship is perfectly fine.'
you chuckle as you wipe your hands on your pants.
'have you heard from sabine and ahsoka yet?' you say. 'and when are you coming home from this unauthorised mission?'
'sabine and ahsoka are alright, we're actually on our way now. and we have some news regarding ezra.' says hera.
'you have news on ezra?' you say, unable to hide the relief in your voice. 'do you know how to find him? or where he is? is he okay?'
'we'll talk about it in person. we should be arriving soon.' says hera.
'I'll wait for you.'
'see you soon.'
hera disconnects her comm, leaving you alone with the music again. your mind is racing. they have news on ezra. you knew it, he's still out there somewhere. you're sure of it.
you quickly put the panel of the main console back and tidy up your tools. just as you pause your music and exit your ship, you see the ghost and ahsoka's T-6 shuttle getting closer to the hangar.
you anxiously await them, watching as they carefully land. the shuttle door opens and sabine and ahsoka come out of it.
sabine smiles as you half walk, half run up to them and pull them both into a hug.
'I'm so glad you guys are safe.' you say. 'it scared the shit out of me when I couldn't contact you.'
'we're alright.' says ahsoka, patting you on the back.
you pull back to look at them. they both look tired, but other than that they seem fine. sabine has a twinkle in her eyes and smile on her face.
'what is it?' you say. 'do you know something about ezra?'
'yeah.' says sabine. 'but hera should tell you.'
she points to the ghost, where hera has just exited the ship. jacen follows her, but is looking over his shoulder and talking to someone. at first, you assume it's merely chopper.
but as they walk further down, you see it's not chopper at all. it's a young man. he's wearing colourful robes and has a beard and curly hair.
it doesn't matter he's older than he is in your memories. it doesn't matter he still has the same eyes and the same scar on his cheek. it doesn't matter something in the force tugs on you so strongly, as if it has found its home.
none of it matters, because you would know him anywhere, in any universe, no matter who you are.
ezra. your ezra. talking with jacen as if nothing had ever happened. he's here, he's alive.
a sob escapes your mouth as you take off.
'ezra!' you yell.
you don't even bother to hide the tears as they stream down your cheeks. after all this time, he's finally here.
for a brief second you see his smile before you crash into him. you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his neck, holding him impossibly close. you're never going to let him go.
words fail you as you just cry into his shoulder.
you feel ezra's arms around your back and get lost in the feeling. it's all so painfully familiar, as if no time had passed at all. yet you know everything has happened since the last time you saw him.
you slightly pull away to look at him.
ezra is smiling at you just like he did all those years ago. though he's older, he's still the same. still the same kid you met on the streets of lothal.
you reach out and brush a finger over the scar on his cheek.
'you're here.' you say breathlessly.
'I am.' he says.
you'd heard his voice in your dreams and memories and the recording sabine still has. but this is different. it means everything and more to you.
'you're as beautiful as the day I lost you.' you whisper.
'I dreamed of this day.' says ezra. 'thought about all the things I would say to you. it all seemed so simple. but now? I have no idea. nothing seems like the right thing to say.'
'but it is simple.' you say. 'I love you.'
ezra smiles even brighter. 'I love you too.' he says. 'I always knew I would see you again. we have a lot of catching up to do.'
you smile as ezra leans in and kisses your forehead. you'd finally found each other again.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Max/Marit
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Text
Memory Lane
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You and Nagito reminisce about your time in the Neo-World Program, with some help from all the footage recorded by the Future Foundation. It turns out this includes a LOT of sex. What else happens when you strand teenagers in swimsuits together on an island? Luckily, Nagito seems as 'nostalgic' as you are.
Word Count: 4.5k
Tags/Themes: Semi-Public Sex, Public Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Doggy Style, Loss of Virginity, Floor Sex, Office Sex, Table Sex, Desk Se, xall the kinds of sex apparently, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, but like through video, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, but of themselves, Sex Tapes, Beach Sex, Nipple Play, Slightly Dubious Massaging, dont know how else to tag that, Island Mode, Female Reader, She/her Pronouns for Reader
A/N: It's all under the cut bc even the first line is pretty explicit... uh... have fun!
READ ON AO3
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By the time you found yourself face-down, cunt-up in front of Nagito Komaeda on the dingy floor of the old, once-abandoned building, you had only known him for two weeks. 
It was a flurry of mishaps and fumbles that seemed to happen in a blink of an eye, even when trying to recall it all to make sense of it. Even within the limited (tiny, frankly) amount of time you’d known him, you chalked it up to his luck without a second thought. You’d seen the spills he’d taken with Mikan- though, this, of course, was more than that.
“Fuu- uhh- uck,” You whined out, voice bouncing in time with the way Nagito desperately pistoned his hips back and forth, burying himself inside of you again and again at a dizzying speed. You hadn’t even had the time to fully remove your panties, which hung off of one thigh haphazardly, much less your clothes. The two of you had pushed your skirt and his jacket out of the way without a second thought.
It had started with a couple of touches that Nagito lingered on for just a millisecond too long, just enough for you to feel a base, instinctual reaction to realizing your silly, fleeting, once-thought-unrequited attraction was mutual. You remembered that morning, how you laughed at yourself for feeling a flutter of butterflies in your stomach when chores were being delegated at breakfast when you found out you’d be cleaning the building with him. But even then, you had just pictured brushing hands, maybe making him laugh, perhaps even engaging in a little banter that toed the line of flirty- but not this.
“S- so good, so good,” He whimpered. “You’re so in- incredibly tight- I never imagined- oh-” And you were more than inclined to agree with him. It was the bad teenage judgment and hormones that made it feel so good. The flush on your face, his panting breath, the hands on you that you couldn’t exactly call familiar but could no longer imagine ever thinking strange, it all ignited so quickly. The flash of well-fueled kindling given the right spark.
And of course- you couldn’t believe it was him. Nagito, with his soft smiles and self-deprecating comments and his stupid wallet chain. Over the course of the long, long days on the island gathering materials bright and early, finding Hope Fragments, and sharing meals and conversations together late at night, it felt like you’d known him- wanted him- for so much longer. 
“Komaeda,” Your fingers scratched against the tacky carpeting, trying to find purchase. Your knees were surely already rug burned and bruised. Still, you pleaded with him, “Fuck me, fuck me- oh, yes! H- harder!”
*
Within the room the Neo-World project pods were still held on the real Jabberwock Island, you peeked through your fingers as you held your hands over your face in shame at the explicit scene playing on one of the large screens. The quality of the speakers and graphics had been sacrificed slightly during the setup. It was clear the three leaders of the project had made do with what hardware they could find. It was perfectly serviceable, but the slightly grainy quality of it all only made it feel more like you were watching a homemade porno, or worse, the voyeuristic taping of a young couple by some pervert. The fact that it was you only made it a little better.
This was surely not what the Future Foundation had wanted when they’d asked you and your partner to sort through the old footage for key moments of the rehabilitation program.
“Oh God, we weren’t even on a first-name basis yet.” You groaned. Besides you, your boyfriend was watching with a distinct lack of shame you’d come to expect from him. He chewed at his knuckles absent-mindedly, the way he did when he focused in on something or became aroused in public. You wondered which one it was now. 
“...I suppose this is fortunate, in a way.” Nagito said finally, not taking his eyes off the screen. “I’m sure very few people can say they’ve captured a moment as intimate as losing their virginity on film.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure no one wants a tape of that!” You said shrilly. Of course, you had come to expect and admire his ability to find optimism in especially the strangest circumstances.
“Though, this was technically the second time we did that,” He murmured, almost to himself. It was too easy for your mind to bring back the once-faded memories of your time at Hope’s Peak, where many sessions of heavy petting finally culminated in working up the courage to bare yourselves fully to each other. On screen, Nagito was laughing breathlessly, mindlessly, as he swept back the hair that had begun to fall into his eyes.
“...so like, is it weird to find teenager you attractive now, or…” You trailed off as you listened to the much more full, musical sound of laughter spill from Nagito’s lips. You couldn’t help but admire him here, now, too. He’d only grown out his hair more, now tied back into a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck. The jutting angles of his bony body had filled out a bit and he wore his button-down quite well, even if he’d never broken the habit of wearing his collar and tie only half-done. His smile was warm and easy as he leaned back, relaxed in the rolling office chair, something you’d never seen back then. 
A particularly raucous set of moans distracted you from your admiration, and on-screen the both of you began to finish. He came across the curve of your ass with a blur of a hand and a bitten lip that did nothing to stifle him. It dripped down your legs and you moaned like it was the best part of it all.
“What a gentleman. Pulling out without asking.” You smirked. You hadn’t meant it as a tease, but it was clear he took it as one.
“Even then, I knew… with my luck…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
*
“Mmnn… ahh- ah…!” The moans and obscene wet noises coming from Nagito’s mouth echoed through the darkened dining hall. It was late, though perhaps not late enough to be splayed out across one of the tables for your boyfriend to be eating you out on his knees like a man starved. You were doing your best to keep quiet. You kept both hands clamped down- one was over your mouth, though the other had an iron grip on Nagito’s hair, pressing his face hard into your positively soaking core. However, this was likely the more discrete option, rather than letting him babble on like he tended to when overwhelmed.
You were dripping down onto the table; this was not exactly a part of your after-dinner cleaning duties, so to speak. But you had splashed water all over your skirt while doing the dishes and flashed him multiple times while trying to dry yourself off. Despite his best efforts, his hard-on was clear to you, and it had all been downhill from there.
His tongue lapped at your entrance lovingly, swirling his tongue over it and diving it deep within at sporadic moments, like he was trying to coax out any more of your wetness for him to taste. He himself was making more than enough with the way he was drooling. The mixture covered the bottom half of his face. When you caught glimpses of it, in between the long licks along the length of your slit, it shined in the dim lighting. 
His own hands struggled to keep up with two competing desires. Sometimes he dug his fingers into the skin of your thighs or spread your lips out to further delve into you, other times he palmed himself through his jeans, though he never unbuttoned the article of clothing, almost like he’d forgotten he could.
When you came a second time, your legs shook enough for both of you to struggle to keep them open. Finally, you pulled Nagito off of you. You both took a moment to simply catch your breath.
*
“Aww, I remember that one.” You cooed, continuing to slide your closer hand up and down Nagito’s thigh slowly, carefully. You went further and further up each time, but carefully avoided his bulge. “Do you remember? You came in your pants just eating me out.” He swallowed hard. Neither of you took your eyes away from the screen. He shifted in his seat and his legs spread a bit wider. He rubbed the back of his neck. He was trying to stay calm, to play the game, but it was clear he was restless already. The video in the background wasn’t any easier to pay attention to.
“Yes, I- I remember. I think I could tell when it happened, actually.” He mused. Without a word, he began to pull your seat closer to his. You couldn’t help but giggle as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I couldn’t help it. I could barely contain myself already… I think you can see that.” He glanced pointedly at the screen. The two of you were hurriedly trying to clean up and leave, but were smiles and giggles the whole time, stealing kisses and distracting each other in equal measure.
“Yeah? And do you think you’re any better now?” You cocked your head- just enough to question him, just enough to kiss him. His face was only inches away from yours. His eyes flickered down to your lips. You moved your hand over his zipper, sliding just your fingertips over the outline of his cock experimentally, watching his expression closely. His eyelids threatened to flutter closed, but he resisted the urge. 
Slowly, he leaned in for a kiss, but just barely ghosted his lips over yours, close enough to feel him breathe. Neither of you closed the gap, instead choosing to simply look at the other, having fun with this game of chicken. His hand slid up the back of your shirt, his fingertips skimming across the sensitive skin there. Your back arched, inadvertently making you pull back just an inch. He cocked his head back at you- just enough to tease you, just enough to get away with it.
“Maybe time has given me a little more self-control.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and pulled away to queue up another portion. “We have more footage to go through.”
*
“N- Nagito! I think that’s enough!”
“Hmm? Oh, not at all.” The two of you sat beneath a large beach umbrella. You sat back to front, with Nagito’s chin resting on your shoulder, fitting neatly alongside you as he ‘helped’ you apply more sunscreen. It had started on your back, but soon his hands moved around to your arms… then your stomach… and now they toyed underneath the edges of your bikini top. His hands roved over your skin at his leisure. His touches threatened to give you a wardrobe malfunction more and more with each passing section. You looked out towards the sea, where a couple of your friends were. It was surfing day, which meant that Akane and Nekomaru had taken a few people out. It also meant that they were pretty far out. You could barely make out who was who.
“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you ended up burned when I could have prevented it.” He was being very thorough, making sure nothing on you went untouched- your shoulders, your sides, the top of your chest left exposed by your swimsuit- nothing he didn’t happily rub cream into.
“I think you’ve done a much better job than I would have already- w- wait!” Nagito began to completely disregard what was covering your skin. His hands moved under it and massaged and groped your breasts. He clicked his tongue at you disapprovingly.  
“What a large spot to miss. Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you.” He purred, nuzzling into your neck. His hands continue spreading the sunscreen around onto your breasts, gliding over your skin easily, rubbing over your nipples as he did so. You pressed your legs together as the sparks his touches lit in your chest shot through your body. His thumbs circled over your buds attentively, slowly, interspersed with rolling them between his fingers. Then, all at once, his hands disappeared. “Ah, I’ll need more.” You tried to regain your mental footing as he grabbed the tube, and with his in front of you, squirted a generous amount into his hands and spread it evenly over them. Despite the heat, you shivered with anticipation. “There we go.” He ducked his head to kiss your neck. You squirmed at the sensation, only feeling even more tingly. While you were distracted, his hands snuck once more back under your swimsuit.
The cream was cold again on your skin, barely warmed by Nagito’s hands. You hissed at the sensation, though it broke into a moan halfway through as he continued to cover you with the cream. You glanced back at your friends. They seemed to be occupied with the large waves coming in. The luck of it all didn’t escape you. It was hard to relax with them in sight, but Nagito seemed determined to have you do exactly that.
“Your body is amazing, you feel so wonderful,” He gushed, “I don’t know why you trusted me with this task, but I’ll make sure it turns out as well as it can for you.”
“You’re- you’re doing a lot more than what I asked.” You tried to scold him, but your voice shook. The sight of the cream all over your chest conjured mental images of much more. The sudden, perverted impulse from Nagito was admittedly intoxicating, and he sounded more than happy about it. He felt more than happy about it; his bulge pressed against your back. If you were less frustrated with the time and place he’d chosen to do something like this, perhaps you would have ground against it. As it stood, you refused to help him move this along.
He ignored your comment. “Hmm, this is getting in the way.” He pulled at your top. “I’ll just have to… ah, but my hands are occupied.”
“I’m not taking it off!” You half-whispered, despite nobody being nearly close enough to hear you.
“That’s alright, you won’t have to lift a finger. In fact, stay exactly as you are.” He pressed his lips against the back of your neck. You swallowed hard, thinking he was going to kiss you once more, but instead, you felt him move in a pattern you didn’t understand. That is, until you felt the strings of your bikini tug and then loosen all at once-
“Nagito!” You gasped, as your top fell off. You rushed to cover yourself, pulling it against your chest as best you could, inadvertently trapping his hands against you. “You- you- eek!” He only began his ministrations once more. “W- wait, we could- let’s turn around-”
“I don’t believe you’re supposed to tense so much during a massage.” He pushed your arms away. You tentatively let your arms and the clothing drop. Your face and frankly, entire body felt hot and you knew you couldn’t blame it solely on the sun. You pulled your knees up, hoping it would cover you enough. Your bare chest was now out in the open, though shaded by a tilted umbrella and shielded from view by your legs and boyfriend’s hands. “Much better.” He chirped, all too smugly. Now, however, you were slightly worried that if anyone approached from the ocean, they’d be able to see the huge wet spot in your bottoms. You supposed you should take it one problem at a time.
*
“You were absolutely… incorrigible that day.” You swallowed hard. You gripped the edges of the desk tightly, watching the footage recorded on the camera that had been at the perfect angle to catch you two in the act. After all of this, you were starting to wonder if the man whose lap you were perched atop had wanted to be seen on the cameras. You wouldn’t have doubted it. You pulled at the hem of your skirt, hoping what was on the tops of your legs was enough to cover what was happening underneath, and Nagito’s own unbuttoned and undone pants. You squeezed the walls of your pussy around him, but of course, did not otherwise move from your spot with his cock all the way inside you. 
He let out a shaky breath. “It- It was the first time I’d seen you in your swimsuit. I- I couldn’t help myself.” His leg bounced rapidly, trying to contain himself. He wasn’t much better at that, even now. It had only been a couple of minutes after you’d pushed your panties aside and taken a seat on his cock, but he seemed practically ready to burst. You mused that you’d have your fun regardless of if he needed to cum like this or if he could hold out to fuck you when you were satisfied.
“Yeah, you were never that handsy again.” You took his hand and kissed his knuckles. He shuddered. His hips twitched. You rocked your own the tiniest bit as punishment. He squeaked and dug his fingers into your sides. 
“I guess I got it out of my system.” His strained voice said. In truth, you also adjusted because you simply couldn’t take how deep he was inside of you. He was more than stretching you out- you could feel the head of his cock reaching as far as you could take it. It almost didn’t seem real how much was inside of you, how snug everything was, how it felt like he was just shy of too big to be doing this. You had to move so he wasn’t pressed so much against your cervix. You were sure that by now, you were starting to drip around the base of his cock. You hoped it wouldn’t stain his pants. It wouldn’t be too much longer, now.
*
“You- you- you!” You shoved Nagito hurriedly inside the beach house, still clutching your untied top to your chest until you were inside. Nagito finally looked guilty as you pressed him against the wall with your free hand. “I- I am so- you-” You sputtered. He shrank a bit, clearly waiting for you to berate him. You dropped to your knees and pulled down his swim trunks.
Nagito gasped and moaned at once as your hand wrapped around his cock. You stroked it quickly, pausing only for a second to spit into your hand for lubricating. His knees buckled and he sank a bit down against the wall.
“Is this what you wanted?” You huffed, licking him up from base to tip with no warning. He cursed under his breath. “Is this what you were hoping for?” You squeezed your grip a bit harder, tightening up as you worked him. It twitched in your hand. His cock was flushed, hard, and clearly eager. You heard his nails scratch at the wall. He could only whimper in response to your questions. Only moans fell from his lips. “Naughty boy.” You met his eyes as you kissed the tip of his cock, flicking your tongue out to lick up the large bead of precum that had formed there. He was panting, face flushed, and mouth open in both disbelief and pleasure. “But such a cute one.” You opened your mouth and took as much of him as you could all at once. He cried out in surprise. You didn’t give him a second to get adjusted before beginning to bob your head back and forth around it.
His dick was hot and heavy in your mouth. He smelled like his musk and sunscreen. You liked blowing him when he let you- and he was the only man you’d ever met who would refuse a blowjob- for all the little things you noticed each time. The way he shifted and squirmed when you used your mouth on him, though you hadn’t realized just how abashed he was about it until the first time that he’d had to cover his mouth with his hands. Something about it and the knit in his brows made you understand exactly why he was always so bright red. 
Nagito would never ask you to do this, but he clearly loved it. When he wasn’t covering your face, his hands would shake as they hovered around your head anxiously, doing his best not to grab at you, or do anything that would rush you in anyway (despite how much you wanted to see it). And when you surprised him enough, you would get to see just how quickly you could make him hard. He would forget to keep himself quiet, and Nagito was already a very vocal person in and out of bed. You got to hear everything unfettered. Today, however, he was more than already in the mood.
You used your hand to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth so easily. You moved it in sync with your quick rhythm. Your other hand absent-mindedly bunched into his trunks, something to ground yourself with as you lost yourself to pleasing him.
“You’re amazing, oh! your mouth is- your mouth is so amazing- ah, I don’t deserve to even s- see you on your knees, much less th- this- yes, yes, yes, yes-” He finally stopped babbling when you changed your pattern up to get your lips wrapped all the way around the base of his cock. You gagged slightly and had to pull off. It was fine, because the way you’d been drooling around him made it even easier to jack him off. You licked at the underside of his head, a place you knew he was particularly sensitive. He rewarded you with an extra loud keen- one that if you had any rational brain left would have made you wonder if they could hear you outside of the room. However, right now, you had only one thought on your mind.
“You should let me do this more often.” You said, before you were sucking his cock once more.
*
“I was r- right-” Your mouth fell into a sloppy grin as your boyfriend bent you over the desk. You shoved papers and electrical appliances on the table onto the floor that you already knew would be a bitch to clean up later. He had slipped out of you while you’d gotten adjusted, but you were so wet it was easy for him to push right back into you. You sighed with satisfaction. You’d felt quite empty in the couple of moments he wasn’t in you. 
Nagito grabbed your arm, pulling it behind you to find leverage. His other hand pressed against the desk.“You were incredibly right.” He said in a voice that made you think he would have agreed to anything he said. But, as he thrusted into you, deep and sudden, you felt rather agreeable yourself. The movement sent a jolt through your body, pushing your face up. Your eyes fell naturally back onto what was happening.
You hadn’t gotten to see Nagito’s expression well while you were on your knees, but you could see his lips curved into a dazed-looking, open-mouthed smile. It was probably a lot like the one you had on your face now. You also hadn’t realized exactly how Nagito was looking at you- soft, besotted and adoring. Had he looked at you like that all this time?
“Please,” Nagito begged on screen. He was finally clutching your hair. His head moved back and forth, trying to keep up with the feeling. “Please, please, please, please-” You couldn’t even tell what he had been begging for- not then, not now. But just like then, it turned you on to no end. Nagito groaned particularly loudly behind you. It seemed he agreed.
“I- I should have been on my knees for you-”
“You did that in- in the other one.” You managed to say. The desk dug into your hipbones. On screen, you dug your fingers into Nagito’s hip bones. “It’d be b- boring!” Your voice moved in time with the way he fucked you, like he was pushing buttons you didn’t know about. You arched your back for him. It reminded you of the first video of the two of you had seen. You knew now exactly how much he’d liked it then.
“Are you gonna cum, pervert?” You teased him on screen. Your hand was relentless on him. “You wanna cum all over my chest?”
“Oh- oh- this is- is going to kill me-” He responded.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” You snickered. You popped the tip back into your mouth and didn’t stop. Behind you, Nagtio sped up. He took the hand behind you with his, lacing your fingers together and squeezing. 
“You were so b- beautiful then, you’re so beautiful now- so tight-”
“I’m glad that’s still true,” You grinned at the screen, even though he couldn’t see it. The Nagito you could see was shaking visibly. You knew those desperate little squeaks anywhere. “Oh look at you,” You groaned, feeling a rush of lust. “You’re about to cum- why have we not made a sex tape on purpose?” Nagito laughed behind you. You squeezed his hand back.
“I- I’m gonna-” On screen Nagito warned. It was all the had to say before you were pointing his cock over your chest and open mouth. With one particularly high-pitched moan, he began to cum all over you, and you accepted it eagerly. You got to see yourself covered in Nagito’s cum. How debased you looked, how much he enjoyed it.
“You were covered in my- you let me- you wanted-” Your boyfriend babbled behind you. “Hah… it’s h- having the same effect even now,” His voice was thick with a loving tone that reminded you of the expression he’d made in the video. You realized that he still looked at you like that.
“Inside, inside, inside,” You pleaded, moving your hips to meet him in his thrusts. You were also close.
“Yes, yes!” The desk shook with the force of his movements. You could hear files and supplies rattling around in their drawers. If you were going to have to fix everything, you wanted to do it with Nagito’s cum still dripping out of you.
“Nagito, Nagito- ah- I- I love you- ohh!”
“I love you,” He echoed at once, “I love you, I love you, I love you- I-” With that, he fulfilled your request, burying himself inside of you as he came, filling you up even more with it. Your eyes rolled up at the feeling and you followed him soon after. Your hands both trembled within each other’s, but held firm nonetheless. Even after all this time, Nagito made you feel that hot, addictive feeling you couldn’t find anywhere else. Your mind blanked save for his words, which echoed around your head. Even still, Nagito filled you with that hot, Nagito didn’t stop until a long moment had passed and he began to soften. You recovered hand-in-hand. Finally, he spoke again. But after, you wished he hadn’t.
“...Do you think they asked us to sort through these because of all of the, er, time we spent together?”
“...oh God.”
358 notes · View notes
thrawns-babygirl · 1 year ago
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Hello there lovely, is there any chance that you could write something - anything really idc if it's a drabble, hc or oneshot- involving tatted Crosshair and his send nudes tattoo?
No pressure of course. love your stuff and keep it up^^
have a nice day <3
This was only meant to be a drabble but I got carried away.
And yes I know this fic starts off almost identically to one of my other fics (I think it was one of the follower celebration ones) but for this specific fic I needed to reuse an old trope dont @ me please I've had writers block (;¬_¬)
This is also another one of my classic medic!reader fics because I wanted it to be gender neutral and doc is the easiest gender neutral nickname I can come up with.
I am not a creative person lmao.
anywho, this is based off of @cloned-eyes absolutely sinful art, which is honestly some of my favorite Crosshair art of all time.
Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Sexting (I think that's it lmao) Words: 2200+
Been a while since ive written anything this long so i hope my writing is still up to snuff
Masterlist
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Where could he be? Where on this maker forsaken facility could he possibly be? You storm through the halls of Kamino looking for Wrecker, the errant clone needing to come and see you for updates to his immunisations before he or the rest of clone force 99 are allowed back out into the field.
It’s not surprising that he’s avoiding you, out of all of them, Wrecker is by far the worst with needles. The man can’t stand them, avoids you like the plague when he knows that it’s time to keep his vaccinations up to date and for what its worth you can’t really blame him. No one enjoys needles.
You huff and place your hands on your hips as you think about where the lovable giant could possibly be. You’ve already checked the mess, the armoury, the Marauder and the training centres with zero sign of him. When you got to the marauder Tech just gave you that look that says, “I understand you need to find him but I’m not going to rat him out” and while you often applaud clones for their loyalty to one another, when it stops you from doing your job it makes you want to rip your own hair out in frustration.
You make your way over towards their barracks, hoping and praying to whatever deities that will listen that you’ll find him and be able to get on with the rest of your job. You take a deep breath, standing out the front of their doors, before keying in your medical override and stepping inside.
You don’t find wrecker, and you wish you had knocked.
Standing in front of you is Crosshair, in just a towel, dark lines of ink on full display over his tanned body. You’ve never actually seen him without his shirt on before, never needed to. The sniper usually manages to stay out of trouble and doesn’t need any assistance when the boys return to Kamino so you had no idea he was covered in tattoos.  
You run your eyes over his chest, taking in all the impressive art that litters his toned form. The silhouette of his beloved 773 Firepuncher that stretches along his chest, the artfully done letters of aurebesh that stretch above his stomach, the other smaller words and phrases that extend down his hips, tantalizingly low, slightly obscured by the fabric of the towel that’s gripped in his left hand.
You run your eyes up his arm towards his face, knowing that he’s going to be wearing that sickeningly infuriating smirk of his and wanting to avoid the cliché “Like what you see?” you know he’s going to drawl at you like you’re in some terrible holodrama.
As you brace yourself to face him, your eyes catch on a single phrase tattooed on his left arm, slightly more patchy and faded than his other ink as if it were the result of a drunken night out in some shady tattoo parlour in the Uscru District of Coruscant. Two simple words that have a profound effect on your physiology causing even more heat to rush to your face, deepening the blush that you know is already far too pronounced on your cheeks and ears.
“Send Nudes”
You finally have the courage to snap your eyes up to his and just as you expected you’re greeted by his frustratingly handsome smirk, his eyes boring into yours, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, as if this is going to be the final nail in the coffin for your poorly hidden mutual attraction to one another that’s been simmering the last few cycles that’s threatening to reach boiling point as you maintain eye contact.
You lamely open and close your mouth trying to find something to say to the barely covered man in front of you before he decides to end your suffering, breaking the silence with the just as cliché “See something you like doc?” he raises an eyebrow at you before walking over towards his bunk, reaching into a pouch on his discarded armour and producing a toothpick, slipping it between his lips as he looks you up and down.
“I um-” you finally look away from him, suddenly finding the old training posters above his bed intensely interesting trying to figure out what to say to him as if you weren’t just ogling his naked chest and arms for an unprofessionally long amount of time.
You clear your throat “I was just looking for Wrecker… he needs his shots” your eyes dart around the room, avoiding his smug, self-satisfied face for as long as humanly possible.
You cringe at how your voice falters, yours and Crosshair’s interactions are always a battle of wits and snark, constantly trying to one up each other as the rest of the batch endeavour to ignore your vague attempts at flirting with one another. Both of you trying your best to goad the other into making the first move, dancing around the invisible line you’ve both drawn in the sand but never crossed.
From the corner of your eye, you see him walk towards you, you see his arm adjusting the towel around his hips and your eyes are drawn to that stupid tattoo on his arm again, the one that makes you want to throw professionalism out the window and jump his bones regardless of any regulations or rules that would get in the way and muddy the waters.
“Wrecker’s not here” his voice has dropped an octave, as if getting you alone in his room has made him realise that there is nothing physical stopping the two of you from muddying the waters of your relationship and taking that final step. You swallow the saliva that’s started pooling in your mouth, attempting to remind yourself that you’re on duty, you’re in the barracks, any one of the rest of his squad could walk through those doors at any moment an interrupt whatever lewd and improper things you both want to do to one another.
While you were wrestling with your own thoughts and feelings you miss how close he’s managed to get to you, his silent footsteps bringing him directly in front of you and you stare up at him. Has he always been this tall? You lock eyes with him, neither of you saying anything as you just stare at one another, each of you silently willing the other to close the distance between the two of you and take the leap.
He begins moving his face closer to yours, his warm breath brushing over your face, it smells minty you vaguely register as you move your face closer to his, closing your eyes and the distance between the two of you when suddenly you hear loud, boisterous laughter approaching from the other side of the door.
You curse under your breath. Despite this being the whole reason you’re in the barracks to begin with, you would give anything for a few more moments alone with Crosshair. Both of you pull away from one another, Crosshair grabbing a spare change of blacks and walking back into the refresher before the door to the barracks opens and you see the wayward clone himself stare at you with wide eyes. He knows he’s got nowhere to run now as you fix him with a glare that one would assume is because of the amount of time and effort you put into finding him and not because of the fact he just interrupted… whatever was about to happen between you and Crosshair.
You walk out of the barracks with Wrecker in tow, attempting to push whatever it was that was happening with Crosshair to the back of your mind, at least for now.
After another few hours on duty, you finally return to your quarters, sore exhausted and replaying the interaction you had with Crosshair over and over again in your mind. No matter how you try to distract yourself, whenever you close your eyes, you see the dark lines of ink that cover his sculpted body. Does he have more tattoos? Do the go lower? You mind is reeling, and you can’t focus on anything else, you can’t even sleep all you can think about is stupid Crosshair with his stupid tattoos and that stupid send nudes tattoo he has on his stupid arm.
You sigh, picking up your datapad in a vague attempt at tricking your brain into doing something productive when you get an idea. Arguably a terrible and stupid idea that could have a negative affect on your career but… an idea, nonetheless. Sighing and shaking your head you throw your datapad down onto your bed as you stand up to take a shower.
No… this is a terrible idea.
You undress and stare at yourself in the mirror. Maybe… its not a terrible idea? Your mind keeps going back to his tattoos and you decide to throw caution to the wind. Walking back into your bedroom you snatch up your datapad and open an encoded chat with Crosshair’s personal frequency double and triple checking the recipient to make sure what you’re about to do doesn’t end up in the wrong hands before steeling your nerves and standing in front of the mirror. The lighting isn’t the most flattering but you don’t let yourself dwell on that for too long before you strike what you hope is an appealing pose and taking a series of pictures, attempting to highlight your assets.
You flick through the pictures selecting the ones you think are the most flattering and before you have a chance to second guess yourself you send them through to Crosshair with the caption “As instructed”.
You wait for a moment, encrypted chats don’t have notifications for when the recipient has seen the messages so you wait with baited breath for a response. When one doesn’t come immediately you throw your datapad down onto your bed and run your hand through your hair, deciding that maybe he’s just not looking at his datapad right now you finally take your shower, attempting to wash away your nerves and embarrassment, pushing your fear of rejection out of your head as you let the warm spray wash over you.
When you exit the shower and towel yourself off you look at your datapad and see a reply from Crosshair. Your breath catches in your throat as you move to open the message and see that it comes with an attachment.
Holding your breath, you open the attachment only to be greeted by a picture of Crosshair, standing in the refresher in his barracks, wearing only a pair of loose fitting black pants that are pulled down to his thighs revealing what can only be described as the nicest cock you have ever seen. You’ve never thought that cocks were attractive before, but somehow he’s managed to change your mind. It’s long and thick and the way his slender fingers wrap around his girth makes your mouth water.
After spending far too much time searing the sight of it into your memory you read the text that he sent along with the photo just one simple word; “More”.
You dive into bed, datapad in one hand, legs spread however before you get a chance to take and pictures you receive another message from Crosshair, this time there is no text, only a video. You open it and press play.
You watch in pure delight as the recording of Crosshair’s hand moves over his hard, weeping length, his fingers tightening as he gets to the tip creating more pressure around the head. Small sighs and choked breaths can be heard from the audio as his hand works his cock and just as the video ends you swear you hear a whisper of your name.
You scramble to return the favour, attempting to capture the best possible angle as you manoeuvre one hand down between your legs to begin working yourself over. You have the luxury of not needing to share your living space with anyone, so you put on a bit of a show, moaning and whimpering and gasping his name as you touch yourself and push yourself over the edge with a final long moan of his name. Your chest rising and falling as you hit send before you can change your mind or second guess yourself.
Not long after that you receive the final video of the night, your mouth waters and you can feel heat rushing down south again as you watch Crosshair vigorously stroking his cock, muffled gasps and groans coming from his end as he works himself, the head of his cock is so red it’s almost purple and you can see beads of precum leaking out of the tip and running onto his hands as he brings himself closer and closer to the edge. You watch as he bites his lip, face contorting in pleasure as the lines of ink on his skin move with the rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to stay quiet.
He screws his eyes shut and bites his lip so hard you think you see him break the skin, as he stifles a moan of your name, spilling ropes of cum over himself, his hand and his chest, panting before the video ends.
You get one other message from him on the encrypted channel.
>Might need to see you in medbay tomorrow for a busted lip
@where-is-my-mind-tho@antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ilovestarwarsmen725@vincentferard
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battleangel · 1 month ago
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Salivating & Waiting...
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They want people living in fear with a scarcity mindset full of self-doubt blaming themselves for an unsuccessful job search.
Who is "they"?
The Fed. The government. World leaders & politicians. Industry titans & leviathans.
The elite rulers of this world.
You know. Them.
All of the screaming headlines about half of a point of an interest rate cut boil down to that.
The Fed is controlled by a Board of Governors selected by the President then confirmed by the Senate — who serve a term of FOURTEEN YEARS.
All old white men like Chairman Powell.
They CAUSE recessions ON PURPOSE by PURPOSELY RAISING INTEREST RATES to make things LESS AFFORDABLE, to allow LESS BORROWING, LESS HOMES BEING PURCHASED, LESS JOBS, TIGHTER ECONOMY.
So, then it goes back to being an employer market and they have the control & leverage again, jobs are tight and scarce, the economy sucks and the job market is challenging.
Just how they want it.
People are less likely to take a chance, pursue off beat opportunities, take risks — which are all of the things that lead to learning & growth often times especially when you fail — its not based on whether its a "successful" outcome — its based on, did you learn anything from your various challenges, trials & tribulations.
Did you learn anything as a person? Were you challenged? Did you grow? Did you learn life lessons? Did you gain resilience? Did you gain confidence in who you were as a person?
Its not really about — did you make money? Was it profitable? Was it a financial success?
Its — did you learn more about your SELF — your actual self as a person — your dreams, your inspirations, your moxie, your fire, your spirit, your verve, your juju, your juice, your essence, your uniqueness, what makes you you.
Did you challenge yourself? Did you grow as a person?
Did you change, evolve, transform?
Did you alchemize your experiences?
Did you elevate? Did you change your state of mind & state of being?
Sometimes those lessons can actually only come from conventional "failure".
They want people operating in a low 3D mindset that just has them endlessly chasing clout, titles, prestige & companys brand names. Influence, Wealth. Money. Material things. Possessions. The flex. Vacations. Homes. Cars. Clothes. Shoes. Bags. Makeup. Luxury.
Chasing. The energy of want, lack, need. Scarcity mindset. Fear. Feelings of worthlessness & inadequacy. Envy & jealousy. Bitterness. Self doubt. Mental exhaustion & fatigue. Desperation.
The vibes of, "I'll take anything I can get. I hope they want me. So many other people have been laid off."
Fear of additional layoffs.
Chasing stability & security as the goal instead of change, discomfort, transformation & alchemization.
Surface, no substance.
Gloss & shine, no substance.
So, the Fed repeatedly causes recessions at scripted, planned, timed intervals. Then they will cut the interest rates & the economy will predictably grow.
If you question the Federal Reserve — why cant it be abolished? Why cant we go back to the gold standard? Why cant we go back to a time where there was no central banking authority?
You will invariably be told the following:
Shut the fuck up, you're not an economist.
Something something Panic of 1907.
Something something without the Fed there would be constant recessions every 3 to 5 years.
Something something the US is the worlds default currency so the Fed is necessary.
Something something inflation would be out of control.
Notice that none of the trite responses above actually even addresses anything that I typed prior — that the recessions are on PURPOSE.
The Feds website clearly & plainly states this — they seek to ensure "maximum employment" while "avoiding inflation" — why do you think they seek "maximum employment"?
They want people to be insecure, unsure of themselves, stressed, pressed, depressed & obsessed.
They dont want people trying new things, taking chances, taking risks, failing in order to learn, failing in order to grow, failing in order to transform.
They dont want people alchemizing.
They dont want people questioning THEIR current system.
If you look at LinkedIn's screaming headlines about the Fed's interest rate cuts — dont they seem a bit scripted to you? A bit contrived & forced? A bit transparent & obvious?
Almost to the point of parody?
Do you actually think anyone in power's actual goal is for people to be employed, satisfied, content, financially solvent, not drowning in debt, not panicking, not struggling to pay bills, not struggling to afford groceries, struggling to pay rent, to keep a roof over their heads, working multiple jobs, part time & full time, living in fear of yet another layoff, another reduction in force, becoming "redundant"?
Living in fear of endless online applications, auto rejections, ghosting, being unemployed for months after unemployment runs out, being evicted, losing your house, living out of your car, having your car repossessed, furniture repossessed, couch surfing, being homeless?
Being overly grateful & sucking off whichever employer deigns to give them an actual job, falling in line, vowing to never move around again, never leave again, never quit without a job lined up again, as the job search process — BY DESIGN — is too arduous, too debilitating, too soul crushing, too confidence killing, too draining, too depressing, too fatiguing, too exhausting, too humiliating, too crushing to your humanity, too inhumane?
And then you bust your ass, stay put & get laid off anyway.
And youre too drained, too tired, too depressed, too exhausted, too fatigued to even think about starting your own business, to even think about freelancing, to even think about creating social media content with the hopes of monetizing it, to even think about being a delivery driver for Doordash, to even think about delivering groceries for Instacart, to even think about being a rideshare driver for Lyft, to even think about using your expertise to start a knowledge as a service (KAAS) coaching or consulting business, to even think about becoming an author, to even think about becoming a public speaker...
To even think.
Just the way they want it.
They want you obsessively chasing money your entire career. Along with basing your entire identity & self-worth on a job title and name brand company that can be taken away from you at any time and at any moment.
They want you breathlessly monitoring every movement that Powell & the Fed makes, reading every prediction, waiting for every interest rate cut, every half point.
Salivating & waiting.
Hanging on their every word, every speech, every update.
Like a conditioned Pavlovian dog.
They want you believing the lie that the economy is doing well right now??????????
With the US presidential election literally next month?
Anyone who is currently job searching like I am right now knows that the US economy is absolute dog shit right now.
Every remote posting has hundreds of applications within literally a few hours.
While on-site positions obviously have way less applicants, the economy is challenging as fuck right now, despite the lies of the Fed to the contrary who keep insisting that we are absolutely not in a recession right now when literally anyone who is currently job searching right now can see that the economy sucks dick with their own eyes.
Never believe what your lying eyes are telling you.
But you should believe the Fed...right?
Because Chairman Powell & the board of governors of the Federal Reserve are NOT appointed by the US President and they DONT serve a term of FOURTEEN years...right?
It's all a script. It's all a set up. It's all on purpose. It's all forced. It's all contrived. It's all programmed.
They want everyone in a 3D mindset.
They dont want people experiencing their ego death, self-ascending into a multidimensional 10D mindset.
Your original mindset before you were born as a human being.
The real, actual you. Prior to your human incarnation. That is a limitless energetic being. Just like your imagination and your dreams — you as a being & entity are also limitless.
They want you to forget and suppress and not remember who and what you really are.
So you stay trapped in the 3D garbage of dog eat dog, competing to get ahead, fucking for clout, starfucking, ego, status, wealth, image, prestige, title, name brand, zeros in bank account, six figures, making it, envy, jealousy, success, excess, vacations, luxury, travel, fashion, cars, flexing, performance reviews, 2% to 3% annual raises, promotions, chasing, lying, cutting corners, scrambling over peoples backs, anything to get ahead, backbiting, kissing ass of all the people that you want to know...
And then the Fed just literally repeats the cycle every few months and every few years.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
I am going to be 43 this month and have already seen this cycle play out again and again within my own lifetime.
But the response is always that the markets didnt respond as predicted, inflation went up too high, the economy was softer than expected, less resilient than expected, consumers were tighter on spending than expected, job market didnt heat up as much as expected, housing market didnt rebound as expected, didnt react as expected.
And its all bullshit.
They want to perpetually keep people in low vibrational energy by ensuring they are always obsessing about, worrying about & endlessly chasing money.
They don't want workers having confidence in themselves to take chances, risks, to have a goal of failing to learn grow transform & alchemize, to quit a job in less than a month, to leave a job without having a job lined up, being a job hopper, starting a business, starting multiple businesses, having a side hustle, having multiple side hustles, becoming a social media content creator with a posting schedule & trying to monetize your content & become a full-time content creator, becoming a freelancer, working fractionally, working as an independent contractor, getting hired as a vendor, getting paid on a 1099, becoming a blogger, author, speaker, coach, consultant...
They dont want you being expansive.
Knowing that your thoughts create your reality.
Being high ass vibes.
They want you stuck in THEIR rat race where they purposely move the cheese around the maze for 50 years then you ask yourself at 65 what the fuck the point of everything was.
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foxbinnstuff · 2 months ago
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expanding more on the ship playlist C: there will be explanations for why I put the songs in there aand the songs themselves!! hope this post is a little fun to read!
a little color coded cuz I loove color coded stuff here!
song lyrics
my opinion based ratings
Other stuff I refrence
I think its just a fun yet far away vibe like this is Kaidou to Saiki to me oh my god
“I’ve been trying, but I can’t hide it from you”
“can’t stop that disco wanting you”
Like I can’t explain it, but its them
Kaidou loving like an excited dog who’s bursting with it and Saiki being a emotionally closed off person not knowing what to do with it, especially when he has a epiphany like “I like him back?!” do you get it
also please imagine them doing that little trending tiktok dance to this song! (if you dont know what I’m talking about just search up “disco dance trend” on tiktok its soo cute) imagine Kaidou being so excited and Saiki just being so fond of him AAAGH
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 6
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 9
I think they admire each other in this sort of way, not exactly admiration for Saiki, but more like a distant adoration
the “when you smile it kills me” line could be for each of them, like I think Saiki has seen Kaidou smile and just crumbled internally at least once, like that little guys is just so ugh, how can’t you?! He just loves Kaidou sm I can’t I CAN’T. And for Kaidou, Saiki smiling is so rare that it would kill just about anyone, ESPECIALLY if you admire him so much to the point where every other word is his damn name like oh my god. Kaidou’s looking at him with shiny eyes when Saiki smiles and he’s like “thats another dude, am I gay?” for a few seconds, but then shrugs it off cuz thats his best alley! of course not!
“when you cry it kills me” Saiki to Kaidou, Saiki to Kaidou Saiki to KAIDOUU COME ON!!!! COME OONN!!!!! lots of talk about being lonely and only having the other holy fuck I’m so sickly for them
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 7
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 7.5
Kaidou to Saiki C: probably in an au where Kaidou knows about Saiki’s powers, but also maybe this song can even apply to cannon because like they are so buddies, Kaidou has dropped his act for the most part around Saiki and the others and thats so special to me…..
the “and I just might know you, too” at the end ARE YOU KIDDING ME its so playful like oh my god. Them in energy and in some of the lyrics too
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 7
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 8.5
idk I just imagine them dating and holding hands and snuggling and being cute to this, like its not exactly them, but it has the energy of them.
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 3
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 8
idk how to explain it, just Saiki to Kaidou about his hero complex and Saiki saying “He should of just used this personality” in the manga AAAGH
AND Kaidou to Saiki in a way but I can’t explain that
I just think about them nervously dancing to this
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 6
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 6
Kaidou to Saiki hehehe about Kaidou’s hero complex, like he loves Saiki so much and and and ok lets take it lyric by lyric
“I never asked you why you walk me through the night” if Saiki really does hate him so much and gind him so annoying, why the hell would he walk him home🤨, like omg we know they do not live on the same street we know that from the christmas party at Saikis, so SO WHY DO THEY END UP AT KAIDOU’S HOUSE THAT ONE TIME WE SAW HIS HOUSE FOR THE FIRST TIME AND WWHY DID IT LOOK LIKE THAT WERE DROPPING HIM OFF LIKE WALKING HIM HOME LIKE COME ON!!!!! (I think of that a lot sorry)
“But I’m tired of romance, I’m tired of romance” BROSKI IS SCARED SCARED OF ROMANTIC FEELINGS
“don’t tell me you’ve had enough, don’t tell me i talk too much!” He’s maybe heard this from people before, I mean he does seem like a fucking bully target so he probably puts self defense up, but in a way he probably knows Saiki at least enjoys a little of his company and isn’t a bully oh my god oh my god kill me kill me kill me
“we both know I’m not that tough, don’t call my bluff”
defensive jumping up and down in front of him, wantinf his attention but not wanting it to be negative like “come on!!!”
“do you wanna take me home, or are you too scared to be alone? I think that we both know (I think that we both know)” something something Kaidou noticing the little things when it comes to Saiki
“but I still wanna dance, though we don’t stand a chance. Come on take my hand, come on take my hand”
Kiadou wants to be around Saiki so bad and genuinely enjoys him like oh my god and he thinks they’re both fucking losers. I also think the “come on take my hand” bit is them taking a chance on each other like they can’t be in romantic relationships, Kaidou’s mom wants him to focus and study and he can’t fucking handle it whils Saiki is a psychic who saves the world every once in a while snd also cannot fucking handle it AAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHH
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 7.5
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 6
this is like a mix of the feelings they have for each other, “you make me feel like I can be myself instead, but I know you don’t want me around” Kaidou
the first part is Kaidou, the first part is Kaidoi def second part is a little Saiki “I know you’re thinking the same thing, so why are you denying all these new feelings?” Saiki in a huff probably
“cuz I just wanted you around” BOTH OF THEM!!! Mostly Kaidou, Saiki could barley admit that
the “the number you have dialed” part is so them painfully pining, Saiki distancing himself probably and Kaidou trying to get closer like the Yumehara situation, but they already have a devolped close friendship so its PAINFUL for both of them
I can just imagine an animatic of them to this song.
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 7
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 7
them thinking about each other in college and/or them noticing the small things about each other, seeing each other even
I do mostly think this is a Kaidou song
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 4.5
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 6
some of these lyrics aren’t them really, but I do think Kaidou’s thoughts would be sort of like this if he had a crush on Saiki in canon, like dude probably thinks Saiki has a secret relationship with teruhashi or something at one point. I just think about them sometimes.
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 5
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 8.5
Do I even need to explain omg
“Love made me strong enough to be alone, it set me free”
“With my friends friends till the end is where I wanna be”
They are just so soft in this specific Kimya Dawson songs way
“this is so them” factor in lyrics: 10
“this is so them” factor in vibe/atmosphere: 9
Holy wow! I hit the audio limit ok!! Tune in for part 2 next time mayhaps!!!
Also feel free to say just about anything to me! I’m open to taking critiques about not understanding the characters and such :3
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eponatheestallion · 5 months ago
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does wild know what cheese is???
ok someone has probably thought of this b4 but its 1 the morning and i dont think im going to bed anytime soon at this rate also spoilers for a sidequest in tears of the kingdom
in totk theres a questline where this girl koyin needs your help getting a bottle that has her great-granpa's recipe for you guessed it Cheese. now the questline itself isnt important but instead what it implies:
there is a VERY strong chance that currently at this point in the comics wild does in fact not know what cheese is and i think this needs to be explored further. we know that in the past that cheese existed because in twilight princess it is an item and i Desperately need to know what the chain but esp twilight thinks of the fact that wild doesnt know what cheese is. it is 1 am and my thoughts r currently being consumed by this.
explanation below the cut
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(also sorry its a youtube video screenshot but i am not making a whole new save file just to do one sidequest)
here koyin refers to cheese as a "new" specialty which wouldnt make sense because
1) if cheese is already a known food in hyrule shoudnt she be able to make cheese based off of the other people's recipes??? unless there ARE NO other recipes
2) in botw and totk hateno is the only source of milk besides merchants you find but based on the fact that all milk in this game is branded with the hateno cow logo its safe to say these merchants probably got the milk from hateno. (although it can be assumed that the sheep and goats you may find at stables could possibly providing milk for the stables)
3) while some foods in botw/totk show foods that arent present in the game (ex. the shrimp in the seafood paella) i looked through all of the recipes present in botw and not a single one of them features anything remotely looking like cheese in the thumbnails which brings me to the conclusion
now one argument against this theory is that cheese is Specifically branded as "hateno cheese" meaning that koyin did not invent cheese but rather she invented hateno cheese (ex. the guy who invented parmesan did not invent cheese as a concept but rather that specific Type of cheese) however based on the fact that cheese is never visibly seen whether as an item, object, or even in a food thumbnail outside of this questline i think it is fair and way funnier to say wild doesn't know what cheese is.
theres also the fact that the lu comics start up already after the chain has met and wild could have possibly learned what cheese was during that period and also i skimmed through all the comics and other related material and i didnt See any of mention of cheese but i am 100% could have missed some mention of cheese
also i am 100% sure i am not the first person to come up with this esp since i only joined the fandom this year but its 1am and this thought is consuming my mind. i was supposed to working on my fanfic i havent updated in three weeks and yet im opening wikis and quest guides for my Cheese Theory
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cullen-rutherford-wifey · 1 year ago
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Hey! Wanted to say your writings amazing and Id like to request something for Hobie and Peter B Parker!(separately ofc!) If you dont want to do this you can ignore it. I thought it'd be a neat drama idea if both their S/Os were put in a situation where their getting the absolute s h i t kicked out of them. Why? Because they held Miguel off long enough for Miles to escape, which leads to S/O suffering Miguels rage. Knowing Miguel when he's M A D, their going to get their shit rocked 101%. What would be their reaction to having to witness that? And how would they intervene?
Dawww thank, and mmmm tasty tasty angst. Me like, I shall provide food
I had to go back(Drabble)
Hobie brown x Gender neutral!reader 
Rating: Angst with a happy ending & Hurt comfort
Warning: violence, mention of stitching, medical stuff I truly don’t know what I’m talking about here just roll with it, multiple injury, blood, swearing
The black which edged your vision as you fended off Miguel closed in fully. Doing so the second Miguel had sunk his paralyzing venom into your blood stream. He effortlessly held you at the throat, slamming you against the furthest wall with a heavy throw. You didn’t feel any pain, but that didn’t stop the oncoming concussion.
You couldn’t stand by as Miguel tortured that sweet boy miles. Hobie felt the same too, but simply choose to leave the scene of infighting all together. But you couldn’t just leave.
Only by the salty taste of tears slipping through the crack in between your lips did you know you were crying. As a pool of blood cushioned the metal floor from the side of your head. Truly your heart itself had stopped but your mind remained somewhat inside your skull. You were somewhat grateful to be paralyzed, this is the worst injuries you’ve ever sustained. The bone cracking pain wouldn’t allow you to stay conscious. Even so, it was terrifying to be unable to move.
Laying awkwardly on the floor and all you could do under Miguel’s six foot grimace was breath. You saw the unfeeling calculation behind his eyes at what to do with you. During your fight it was all rage and yelling, the burn of adrenaline against each other. Now it’s a cold knife at your neck, with you at his total mercy.
Cutting through the silence, was an all too familiar boom of a guitar. Hobie drop kicked Miguel out from his portal, striking Spider-Man of 2099 across the room. Before Miguel could recover from the shock Hobie grabbed you from the floor. Leaping into the portal he just exited, once on the other side. He grinned at the leader of the spider society, tossing his gizmo through the rip in time and space with you in both of his arms.
“By the way I still quit.” Red ate away at Miguel’s eyes once again as he howled “HOBIE-“
Neither of you could hear the end of Miguel’s threat, cause the window between your worlds had already shut itself off. Now you’re back at Hobie’s place, the musk of his dirty underwear and East London filled your nostrils. The broken ceiling lights cast hobies home in a tender darkness. The moon light of early evening peaking through his only window. Shining against his lip and earning piercings. As your gaze was now rolled up to his. He smiled down at you, dropping his prized base on the floor. Doing so when it meant being able to gently place you on his couch.
Now your bleeding and broken form was cushioned by a faded greenish blue fabric. With some tears allowing the cotton to escape partially. Hobie despite not having much time to clean up or much money to find somewhere better. His presence alone made any room comfortable. You watched as he opened his fridge, taking out a blackish green vial.
He knelt down on the wooden floors beside your head, pushing the back of your scalp up to him. He explained,
“I made a cure for Miguel’s venom just in case, trust me this’ll work.” You blinked affirmatively as he softly placed the open edge of the vial onto your bottom lip. He tilted your head slightly higher, so a stream of the liquid would pour down your throat. He stopped once the glass was half empty, you coughed. Now able to feel your face.
A second later the pain hit you, suddenly as if Miguel was throwing you about all over again. Hobie noticed and grabbed a first aid kit shoved under the couch. His furniture was suddenly a hospital bed, as he kept himself kneeling. Going first to your left arm to stitch up his claw marks.
“Need anythin else love? Water? Tv? Ice?” You tilted your head towards him.
Using the speck of strength you had left in your body, to caress his chin. Your finger tips just grazing his lip piercing, saying.
“Just you hobie..” punctuated by a pained smile, your grin was meet with a broken expression from him. He relented as he gently sewed your slashed skin together, almost choking on the apology. “I’m so sorry love, I didn’t think…I should’ve…” you let him finish as he swallowed his pride and hurt conscience. “I was selfish just to leave. I should’ve gotten you too.” You admitted to being resentful of his quick exit. But you just played with the ends of his coiled hair, “It’s alright love, I forgive you…”
I’d never leave you(Drabble)
Peter P Parker x gender neutral!reader
Rating: Angst with no happy ending + hurt comfort
Warning: violence, blood, swearing
Miguel and you were in an equal tussle, you’ve received a few claw marks through your suit and skin. Bleeding out over the colors of your costume. As you managed to crack some of Miguel’s bones. Compelling him to limp and need a breather between throwing shit at you.
The spider HQ lobby was nearly on collapse by an hour of your fighting. Every single one of the side pillars have been cracked open. Debris huddled on the glass flooring bottoming the building. Creating more broken windows than miles did when he leapt out to escape Miguel. But you weren’t planning too in the slightest.
“You piece of shit!” Miguel screamed into your ear when he gained the upper hand. Pining you down by his forearms, kicking and pushing at him in futile efforts to break free.
You tried blocking his clawed strikes, managing to scrap your cheek a couple of times. But overall evading the fate of your face being ripped off by his talons. Soon a block of cement crashed through Miguel, hurtling him off of you. You doin a breather, unconsciously gazing up to see who had broken you free.
It was Peter, with an empty baby carrier still strapped to his chest. Swaddled underneath by his pink robe and bunny slippers, you’d never thought you’d be this relieved to see him walk out of the house like that.
“All this attention he was giving you I was starting to get jealous!” He joked with a nervous grin, he snaked your left arm around the brim of the top of his shoulders. “PETER-“ Miguel screeched as he tossed back that very makeshift wrecking ball back where you two meet.
Peter acted instantly and threw you both out into the air with his webslinging. Neither you dared to look back at Miguel chasing you. Peter fiddled in between a few moments of percussive maintenance, as in not pretentious terms smacking the object until it works. The portal appeared, in its pool of reflective hues you saw Miguel’s snarling visage back into your sight. Instinctively huddled yourself into Peter, feeling the shift of realities wash over you in the darkness of your silenced sight.
Then a New York breeze brushes your skin, opening your eyes back up. Half of your vision is taken up by Peter’s chest, the other saw his blueish white kitchen.
“Can you stand up?” You nodded as he gently introduced the bottoms of your feet to his kitchen floor. You were woozy from blood loss but nothing was broken, you hoped.
But you immediately stand yourself down on his dining room table. Removing sweat from your forehead after freeing your face from your mask.
“Want some coffee?” He inquired gently, with his signature deflecting smile. You shook your head, saying “No, I’ll take any tea ya have tho…” he scoffed, “In New York that’s blasphemy?!”
You laughed together, just to kill the unknowing silence that’ll inevitably divide you two. Peter’s too afraid to go against Miguel. Peter’s always been a peace keeper, he doesn’t fight when he doesn’t have to. You’re a warrior in that regard, hands will be thrown right when you see injustice. Your idea of what a spider person aught to be was different in that regard.
“I’m not going back Peter.” You concluded the laughter with an abrupt bluntness, topped by a somewhat guilt ridden smile “Well obviously you can’t go back now-“ you cut him off as the grin dissipated under your nose “No. The spider society shouldn’t exist, what we’ve done is wrong. What we were doing to miles is wrong. Cant you see that?!” You were conscious of the fact Mayday was likely asleep somewhere in the house. But raised your volume enough to get the point across.
He rubbed his eyes with his back to the edge of his kitchen counter. Unable to or not wanting to look at you.
“I understand but-“ you rose from your seat in a fury “Nothing to understand Peter. Never mind on that Tea, I’ll get some myself.” As your sentence wrapped up you made your way out of the room. Peter gently caressed his fingers around your arm. You cast his touch aside violently. “Don’t touch me.” You whispered in response, immediately leaving his apartment after.
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aerequets · 2 years ago
Text
hug your grief close
ao3
summary: “You came to watch her, right?” He asks, making her tense up. But he doesn’t sound accusatory—he speaks plainly. “You’ve been doing that every night.”
Shock curls in her belly. “You knew?”
rating: G
genres: light angst, hurt/comfort
a/n: **based on events in ch 70 onwards of the manga!!**
it seems like i can only write and post fics that are written in one sitting. anyways, this is my first yor-pov fic! i dont rlly know how i feel about this one. it's more serious which i feel is harder to pull off but i should probably go to sleep so im just posting it even though it may not make sense <3 enjoy and thank you for reading!
title taken from a (very roughly) translated line of a poem by Allama Iqbal
Yor has started watching Anya sleep.
On the days Yor puts her to bed, she hums her a lullaby, sometimes reads her a story, until the girl’s eyes finally droop shut. Before, she would tiptoe out of the room once Anya’s light snores filled the air. Now, she stays frozen by the bedside until her legs are creaking when she gets up. She doesn’t even do anything most nights—just traces the soft curve of Anya’s cheek with her knuckles, sometimes. Smooths down her fine hair.
Eyes the faint marks on her neck until her jaw aches from grinding her teeth.
She’s a little embarrassed by this new ritual of hers, especially since Anya herself seems so unruffled by the events from the week prior. A bus hijacking, a terrorist threat, bomb collars—and Anya is cheery, ecstatic at the second stella she has received for her bravery. Her bravery. Yor does not want a little first grader to have to be brave, not like that, but she fears voicing this strange thought will expose her for the fake mother she is, just like her new obsession with making sure Anya is breathing will expose her as an assassin. The assassin that failed to kill all of Red Circus. The assassin that, inadvertently, put this girl’s life in danger.  
It is why she keeps her nighttime habit a secret. She takes extra caution to slip out silently—which, given her natural tread, ensures she’s quieter than a breeze—so that Loid will never find out. She feels a different kind of guilt when she sees him. She came into this family and put his own daughter in danger, and now she kneels by that girl’s bedside as if she has any right to. But every night, the desperation wins out over the guilt and she stays.
It’s different tonight, because Yor isn’t able to tuck Anya in. She comes back home late from a job—a job in which she has to triple, quadruple check to make sure she’s truly eviscerated every last person, which takes an extra thirty minutes. She had told Loid not to stay up, that she’d be really late, and had apologized for leaving the nighttime chores to him. He’d smiled, benign, and told her not to worry. The guilt multiplied. He probably wouldn’t be smiling at her if he knew she was the reason his precious daughter almost died.
The house is dark and silent. Yor knows how to pick apart the shadows and see if people are hiding, so she knows their apartment is free of danger, yet her heart rate still spikes up. She hasn’t seen Anya yet.
She quietly slips out of her work clothes, changes into pajamas, and ties her hair back before tiptoeing into the hallway. She keeps the lights off, but the moonlight from the living room window illuminates her surroundings and sends a slat of light into Anya’s room as she cracks the door.
A slat of light that falls onto Loid’s form before she can pick him out in the dark.
She freezes as Loid turns around and meets her eyes. Guilt and panic slam into her from opposite ends, and she has to stop herself just in time from crushing the door handle in her fist.
What is he doing here? Is her first thought before she’s scolding herself. What kind of question is that? She ’s the intruder here. She has to make up an excuse.
“I—I was—”  She left something in Anya’s room? But she never comes in here unless she’s tucking her in. She hasn’t been in Anya’s room all day. She has no reason to be here. “Um…”
“Come in,” he whispers, catching her off guard. She hesitates before slipping inside and closing the door behind her. It’s only once she’s inside that she registers the way he’s sitting, parallel to Anya’s bed with his legs bent and arms wrapped around. She imagines he might lean his head on his arms to look at Anya’s face. It’s the way she does it.
“You came to watch her, right?” He asks, making her tense up. But he doesn’t sound accusatory—he speaks plainly. “You’ve been doing that every night.”
Shock curls in her belly. “You knew?”
He shifts and does exactly what she’d envisioned before, leaning his head into the crook of his arms. Curled up by Anya’s bed, house clothes wrinkled and hair mussed, Yor thinks he’s like an unraveled ball of soft yarn. In the past week, Loid had been the same calm, collected rock for the family that he’d always been. While she felt like she was going to fall apart, he remained orderly and efficient, sorting matters out with the school and doing whatever else was needed without so much as a frown. She didn’t see him keel over once. She had the brute strength, but between the two of them, she thought he held it together far better than she ever could.
“I saw you,” he says, breaking her out of her thoughts. “I do the same thing.”
“Oh.” The shock quickly turns into remorse. Has he been waiting for her to leave Anya’s room this whole past week so he can get time with his daughter? She’s been getting in the way of this real parent and child, and selfishly so. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get in the way.”
“What?” He straightens. “You aren’t.”
“R-right…” she replies, shaky. It suddenly hits her—she has no right to be here. Not just in Anya’s room, but here. In this family. Maybe she could have fooled herself into thinking it was alright before, but now? Now Anya has the marks of a collar on her neck. Loid is the one who deserves to tuck her into bed and see that she’s sleeping and content, not the one who put her at risk to start with. If only I’d been more careful, more diligent. If only I’d been better. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone—”
“Wait.” He’s reached up and caught her hand in his own. The sensation is so warm and jarring that all Yor can do is blink, bewildered. He releases her hand just as quickly, hovering in the air. “Um, sorry. I just…” He looks up at her. She feels like she is caught in time as he searches her face—for what, she doesn’t know. His face is stonecut, sharp planes softened by the cloak of night and muted moonlight beyond Anya’s curtains. His eyes are inscrutable as ever, but she has to tamp nerves down for every second that goes by. Her heart, wretched thing, has no sense of time or place and is beating nearly out of her chest.
“Don’t go,” he says eventually. Her expression must not inspire confidence, because he repeats, “Don’t go. She needs you here.” And then, swallowing as if trying to force the words down and barely audible: “I need you here.”
She sits down across from him, mirroring his position. She knows she shouldn’t be here, but how is she supposed to say no to that?  
They’re silent for a while. Yor turns to look at Anya, at the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheet. They were so close to losing it all. Yor has come much closer to death, but has never felt as scared of it as she is now.
The first thing she’d felt last week upon finding out was rage, white-hot and searing. It was exactly the thing Garden condemned, and heavens knew Yor had nearly two decades to flush that volatility out of her system, but it was inexplicably there. She thought the only thing that could quell that rage would be drenching her hands in Red Circus blood. Until she saw Loid’s face.
His expression had been tight. Most of all, it had been closed off. She felt like he usually had a placating smile at the ready, so he had almost felt like a stranger, tense and coiled up to strike. She saw him wring his hands. Then the rest of what happened had been a blur, a whirlwind of calls and schoolbuses and frantic media until they had Anya nestled in their arms, maybe too tight but assuredly safe.
The thing was, by the time they’d been made aware of the situation, it had already been mostly taken care of. Yor wasn’t used to having things done for her. She was used to ripping what she needed from the world’s grip whether it was ready to give it to her or not, which might have been why she felt the need to make sure Anya was alright every night. Because she didn’t know how else to assure she was okay. Maybe Loid was the same, restless with a sense of urgency sprung inside him that had nowhere to go.
But Loid was good. He was real, a true father. He wasn’t like her.
When she turns away from Anya, she finds Loid is looking at her again. She has to suppress the fighter's instinct to tense up and force her muscles to relax. “What is it?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Are you okay?”
“Uh?” Yor, confused, points to herself as if he could be addressing anyone else. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” he says, the barest trace of a smile on his lips that makes her cheeks heat in embarrassment. “You’ve seemed down.”
“Oh. Isn’t that a normal thing to feel after what happened?”
“No, of course. I…hm.” He clears his throat. “I guess, besides that, I thought something else was bothering you. I apologize if it’s presumptuous—”
“It’s not,” she interrupts softly. She ducks her chin down so she doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. “You’re right. I think all this kind of made something clear to me.”
“What’s that?”
“I… I don’t know how to do this, Loid.” The words come out sounding more desperate than she’d have liked. Her voice is embarrassingly shaky as she admits, “Being a mother. Keeping Anya safe. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
She covers her face, mortification and tears building up with similar ferocity. It’s quiet for so long that she begins regretting saying such a thing, until Loid says, “I don’t know what I’m doing either.”
“What?” She sniffles. “But you do. You’re so…put-together. You always seem to know what to do. When we found out what had happened, I had no idea what to do, but you…”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” he says. There’s a bitter undertone to his words as his hands tighten around his elbows. “I was sitting around while Anya… while Anya was…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I keep thinking, Yor. If I hadn’t insisted she go to Eden, dragged her into all this, she wouldn’t have had to go through all that. What am I doing?”
Yor hovers, unsure of her place. Was this her place? Did she comfort him? What did a normal wife do in this situation? Should she act like a normal wife or keep a distance?
Loid takes in a shuddering breath, dashing all her thoughts away. To hell with it, Yor. None of that matters. She leans forward and captures his hand in her own, making him look up at her. His eyes are rimmed with red. Hers are probably no better.
“You were not just sitting around,” she murmurs. “You got us through that nightmare—all of us. And you can’t blame yourself for a butterfly effect like that. You only wanted the best for Anya, right? The only ones to blame for the situation are the terrorists.”
He considers her words before pulling their hands down to rest between them. He rubs a thumb over her knuckles. “Then it’s the same for you. You keep Anya safe, but it isn’t your fault she was in danger. It’s not your fault.” He looks up and Yor can’t stop the tears from finally slipping down her cheeks. He doesn’t know the truth, she tries reminding herself, but it’s futile—his words, inexplicably, comfort her as they always have.
He somehow makes it feel like he completely understands her, different as they may be. Perhaps she doesn’t deserve it, but Loid said it himself: She needs you here. I need you here. Her family. She wasn’t going to step out on them now. “It’s not our fault,” she says, relishing in the relief those words bring to her chest.
“It’s not our fault,” he repeats, voice dropping. He lifts his hands and wipes the tears on her face with the pad of his thumb. They’re close and the nerves make a rapid return as Loid’s eyes dart between her own, hands large and warm and still cupped around her face. He slowly approaches and her breath hitches, eyes squeezing shut, when she feels a gentle pressure on her forehead instead. His hair tickles her as he leans his forehead against hers.
“I’m glad you’re my partner in all this,” he admits. “Thank you, Yor.”
He’s thanking me? She thinks, lost for words. When she thought of all the things he had done for her, it seemed almost impossible to match up. But…
She glanced out of the corner of her eye where Anya lay, fast asleep. With the way she slept, they needn’t have been so quiet during their conversation. She was safe and soundly sleeping with a smile on her face and her plushies in her arms. As for Loid? I’m glad you’re my partner in all this.
She had to be doing something right.
“Me too,” she replies, a wide smile brimming. “Thank you, Loid.”
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