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#i’m fine with any ship i just need to read SOMETHING
salaimoi · 2 days
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i wave goodbye to the end of beginning ˚. ✦.˳· ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader sypnosis: he wasn’t what you desired anymore, but he couldn’t let you go. months passed since your bitter breakup, and yet, he didn’t stop loving you for a second. cw: slow burn. angst for the sake of angst. falling out of love for no reason fr. unrequited love. alcohol consumption (gojo only) no happy ending me thinks, or maybe somewhat. who knows word count: 3.1k
author's notes: i’m mourning gojo and so should you! so here’s a piece of an angsty fic that’s been rotting, unfinished, in my drafts since march 29. i was only gonna post a sneak peek of this and suddenly the holy spirit took over me and drove me to finally finish it??? IF U EVER READ ANYTHING OF MINE PLEASE LET IT BE THIS😭😭i’m so in love with the reader crying scene u don’t get it. the metaphors?! i outdid myself. i am so terrified of the deep ocean, and the fact that i find myself writing about it during angsty hours says a lot about me. i can’t emphasize how much i adore this fic. i just love angst sm idkidkidk
also, this is my first time attempting angst for the sake of angst as well as slow burn (?) so idk if i’ll ever come back to this. not beta read.
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Time and again, this mahogany dining table was the scene of numerous heartwarming interactions – mementos Satoru wouldn’t be able to replicate a second time, even if he spent a thousand lifetimes trying to do so. Sure, it was more than easy to recreate the scene, but not the genuine warmth the two of you felt in that moment. He could go to great lengths, such as hand-crafting every single piece of furniture in the room that bore witness – carving and polishing wood until his palms became more splinters than skin. But even then, he wouldn’t come close to reliving any of those gratifying sentiments from so long ago.
All the shared laughter at his trivial attempts at comedy had caught up to you; your smiles were forced lately, and he could tell. He possessed that diamond-blue, six-eyed gaze which consistently made you feel as if he could undeniably read your thoughts, but that wasn’t the case. Even a blind person could discern the unforeseen shift in your comportment toward him, and due to this, Satoru questioned himself relentlessly. 
What if he’d said something to offend you? What if he left the toilet seat up one too many times for your liking? What if he began snoring in bed but you were too considerate to say anything about it? What if he forgot a special date? What if he tried to offer you something you were allergic to? 
What if he stopped being the love of your life...? 
It seemed as if, in a fraction of a second, all the enjoyment you once felt had deserted you, and with it, your love for him. Had you forgotten how happy you were by his side all in the spawn of a few hours, or was this the universe’s twisted interpretation of a joke?
Even if it was, you weren’t laughing.
You told yourself it was fine, that it was a mere wave of sadness that would soon pass, but instead the harmless tide you paid no mind to had brutally swept your body into a sea of despair. Before you could process your predicament, the shoreline was well out of sight – blurring with the deep blue expanse of the oceanic abyss that enveloped your mind.
The longer you fought to stay afloat, the clearer the path became for the briny water to replace the oxygen in your lungs, giving you no choice but to drown as everything around you became a pitch-black, bottomless pit – devoid of any sense of worry for you. 
It was rather often that you were accused of abandoning the ship when things got bad, and yet, here you were – submerging along with it.  
How ironic.
Even he couldn’t save you now. The solace his mere presence bestowed upon you when you needed it most wasn’t there anymore. There was no more capability of initiating conversations with him when you were the only other person in the room, causing the once-upbeat and soothing environment to give way to one of silence and uncertainty; it was as thick as syrup.
Syrup. The sugary taste of it from when you consumed it during breakfast was all but replaced by a repugnant, sour one in your mouth. A persistent echo of those homemade fluffy pancakes you had turned down remained, even though he had made them just for you — his precious girl. 
You insisted you would eat later – an obvious white lie to mask your despondency and lack of appetite – but he spoon-fed you, because in his own words, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I allow my girlfriend to starve? No, that won’t do. I’ll take care of you even after I've exhaled my last breath.”
“And how would you do that if you’re no longer breathing, genius?” you asked, a wilting smile on your face that you had put on display for him. 
“Well, my dear," he retorts with a smug grin. "I've always believed that love has a way of transcending the boundaries of life and death. And as luck would have it, our love transcends the mortal realm. I will always be with you, in spirit if not in flesh.” he smiles, a twinkle of amusement behind his sapphire eyes before continuing.
“Once I've moved on to the afterlife, I'll find a way to send you sweet nothings and a box of chocolates from beyond the grave. Consider it an eternal gift.”
He declares in a complacent tone as he lounges back in his chair, head resting comfortably on the back of his hands. 
"But in all seriousness," he then adds, his tone becoming more genuine, "I'll do everything in my power to ensure you're taken care of – even if it means making sure my eternal resting place has a Wi-Fi connection for you to receive my messages.” 
Your thoughts were entirely silenced in that moment; white noise overtook the black space within your mind. How had he managed to say such heartfelt words as if they were second nature? This early in the morning, nonetheless.
Would he actually…?
You knew he would.
"But let’s not dwell on my demise just yet,” his words bring you back to the present conversation. “Until the day comes, I promise to make the most of our time together. Besides, knowing me, I’d probably haunt you just to ensure you have someone annoying to keep you company."
He finally remarked, going back to stuffing your face with the soggy pancakes that had been sitting in syrup for too long. 
And you were cognizant of the fact that you alone were privy to this side of Satoru Gojo: the mushy, gentle one who tended to his companion as if it were a god-given mandate. 
To the public, he was a stoic, impervious character who had no dread of others. To you, he was far more vulnerable than he would ever confess. 
But that wasn’t nearly enough to deter you from taking the disheartening decision made later that day.
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“I can’t stay here anymore.” austere words you didn’t wish to speak, but needed to, in order to provide some semblance of closure for the both of you. “I can’t love you anymore.” 
A hushed supplication could be heard flying across the room at the speed of light once your hand reached out to turn the bitterly cold door knob, hitting against the back of your head – identical to an equally-cold shower.
“Please don’t leave me,” he immediately protested weakly. 
He approached you with cautious strides, every step causing fragmentation in his all-too-frail emotional state. Even if it was ephemeral, the mutual love between the two of you had already left a blazing watermark on his soul. His feelings for you transcended the nagging rationality that bound his mind, defying all sensible objections he had on the matter of permitting you to depart from his life. Having failed to quell the ardor her felt, it persisted apodictically until he was an arm’s length from your frame. 
And that was exactly it – the same frigid sensation your hand clinged onto emulated the one you felt in your wretched heart the moment he approached you. You’d already turned your back on him and expressed every afflicting anguish that tormented your soul, so why plead now? Now – when you already made the conscious decision to leave him behind. 
Tears neither you nor he could hold back began flowing down your features. A familiar hand lifted towards your cheek soon after, wiping the salty residue off your delicate face with his thumb. 
He never ceased to remind you how gorgeous you were when you cried, frankly because the manner in which your wispy eyelashes retained the saltine tears in your eyes resembled the delicate surface of a tranquil pond.
Every tear you shed would become the gentle water that tickled his skin as his body wafted about in your iris – an eternal reservoir he’d swim in without tiring if the heavens so permitted it.
However, this occasion differed from the rest; the once gentle waters he yearned to lay in became calamitous waves, which may lure him to the ocean’s most profound recesses in the blink of an eye – your blink of an eye. He would usually stay afloat among that innocent gaze of yours, but tonight it was ruthlessly drowning him with no lifeline in sight. 
Even after he implored that your crying would come to a halt, more pungent teardrops bled onto his fingers. An eroding desperation flowed through you, aching to hold onto something, anything, in order to cease the mental decay within your subconscious.
Thus, your own hand extended to hold his against your cheek, a glacial embrace overpowering the warmth of his skin; an identical chill tickled his spine when he absorbed the crispness of your graze, but he paid it no mind.
“Not you too…anyone but you,” he pleaded in a low voice, causing more accursed tears of yours to cascade mercilessly as he embraced you in an endeavor to sway your decision. His voice was gentle and soothing, mimicking a caress you’d never experience a second time. 
“I’m sorry.” you muttered.
Being unable to bring yourself to meet the sapphire eyes that imitated a midwinter sky so perfectly, your head lay low; the only thing visible to him was the top of it. 
It was unclear what you were sorry about. Perhaps you were sorry that you had to leave him behind. Or perhaps you were apologizing to yourself that he was no longer what you thought you wanted with every fiber in your body.
You desired more in this life, and on your game board, he wasn’t a playing piece who could frolic alongside you. It wasn’t because you didn’t fancy his company, rather it was the fact that his own strategy of playing was one that did not catch your eye anymore; it had become a monotonous rehearsal. Every move came to be a discernible one to you – even before he picked up his pawn, causing you to lose interest in the entire game itself.
That realization alone shattered his entire world.
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Satoru’s head lay low all throughout as he sat on a wooden stool amidst the empty bar. It was 2 a.m. and he needed to go home, but why should he?
You wouldn’t be there to greet him – or even scold him for that matter. 
Colorless, almost lifeless, marbles stared vacantly at the picture of you on his lock screen; he consistently spoke to your picture as if he were having a conversation with it. At this point in time, it had become routine. Maybe one of these days the frozen-in-time frame would speak back to him for once?
Just once.
Where had that tender smile he’d fallen in love with gone?
Where had you gone?
On a nightly basis, the same detestable conversation from that night redounded from one end of Satoru’s mind to the other incessantly – akin to a religiously recited sermon. 
It was impractical to disregard the harsh reality that sooner or later every cherished individual he held dear to his heart willingly departed from his life – Suguru, and now you. 
If it entailed becoming a regular person, he’d give his life as a sorcerer to ensure the permanent presence of at least one individual in his life. Where was the value of possessing such prowess when one’s vulnerability in the realm of love was inescapable? 
What twisted transaction was that?
He'd even willingly forsake his divinely bestowed talents for the purpose of altering the passage of time, thereby reverting to a period where your presence was far from being nothing more than a diminishing recollection. 
Ijichi had been dealing with this side of his boss for months on end. Regardless of his efforts to encourage Gojo to put an end to this melancholic act of his, he never managed to convince him to do so. Ijichi attempted the compassionate approach, but to no avail. His optimism and patience were dwindling, fearing that this would continue on for eternity – and perhaps it would’ve if he hadn’t stepped in.
This had to end sooner or later, and for everyone involved’s sake, it had to be the former. So tonight, he opted for a sterner, and perhaps more unforgiving, path.
Your car was parked out front of the bar Ijichi had sent you the address to – forehead pressed against the steering wheel as an audible, exhausted sigh escaped your mouth. It was late and you knew this was nothing short of inane behavior. You weren’t doing this for you; you had to remind yourself that you were doing it for him, with the hope that he would ultimately find someone who would be there for him in a way that you were unable to. 
Weary, almost weak, legs lead you to enter the desolate bar. A knife prods at your chest when your eyes dart over to where Gojo was. He kept his head lowered; the only part of him you could clearly see from this angle was his back.
An overwhelming sea of emotions plagued your mind when you witnessed him in such a state. You could feel the knives twist the longer you stared at the back of his fluffy white locks. 
Months had passed since your split, and you realized Satoru’s grief and distress were indeed as dire as his assistant conveyed to you during the phone conversation. 
A tap on his shoulder was accompanied by a sweet voice that had vanished into the depths of his consciousness a long time ago. Perhaps because he didn't wish to recall the agonizing memories that came with your voice, or perhaps because he needed to maintain a pristine, untouched image of you in his psyche.
As you occupy a vacant stool one seat away from him, your attention is drawn to the half empty vodka bottle in his grasp. 
“You know, I talked to your therapist. He said you were getting sober.” 
What you said held true, except you didn’t hear it from his therapist directly; Ijichi was the one who was initially informed about that, and being the caring person he was, he relayed the details to you. Mostly because he felt as if, deep down, you still wanted to know about Gojo’s well-being.
"What are you doing here drowning yourself in alcohol?" you added, seemingly concerned for your ex-boyfriend.
He looked up at you, his eyes red and bleary from the drink. His body froze. Blue pupils dilated in a mixture of shock and happiness. It really was you. Had you come back for him after all this time? 
"What does it look like I’m doing?" he muttered, his voice bitter and angry.
Satoru detested alcohol; it always interfered with his abilities, and being the strongest meant being ready whenever – no questions asked.  After your departure, though, he grew fond of the bitter, burning feeling the liquid provided. That sweet poison was the sole substance capable of muffling the eternal pessimism plaguing his mind.
You approached him cautiously, taking the bottle from his hands and setting it aside. "Come on," you said firmly, "we need to get you home."
He wasted no time to speak what was really on his mind. Even if it was for a mere second, he had felt the sensation of your touch once more. That was more than he needed to vocalize the thoughts that tormented his sanity. Either that, or it was the alcohol he had consumed speaking. 
“Why won’t you love me back?” His words slurred, being far too drunk to care, though. 
“…You’re drunk, let’s get you home.”
“What home? The one I bought for us that YOU left me all alone in?” he deadpans, the silence following being as deafening as a scream.
Ouch. 
“My room feels so empty if you’re not there. I see your precious face and I don't know what to do.” His expression dampens with anguish before he continues – somewhat unclearly, ”whatever I do, I cam’t fubking get you out of my head amd it’s ruining me.” 
“I told you to move on a million times every time you drunk dialed me, Satoru.” 
“If that’s what you wanted, why did you continue to pick up the call?” He retaliates, eyes glazed with forbidden tears on the verge of cascading against his pale skin.
You knew perfectly well why. He knew perfectly well why. Everyone Satoru vented to about you knew why, so why continue to deny it? 
Attempting to keep your temper in check, you take a deep breath, eyes darting back and forth between the door and him. It was more than easy to run away from your problems, like you always did. But not this time.
You owed it to him to at least finally stick around long enough when things got tough. You wouldn’t put up an invisible wall between the two of you anymore, not today. 
You sigh, taking the empty seat right next to him. 
“We can’t go back to how things were. We broke up, remember?” 
“I know,” he grumbles, taking a sip of his beverage. He shook his head, his drunken state making it almost impossible to focus his thoughts or his vision. “But maybe drinking will make me forget that we ever did. Maybe tonight I can pretend we’re still together,” his voice and face etched with sorrow.
His voice trailed off, followed by another long sip of his drink. 
“You need to quit drinking yourself into a stupor, Satoru. This isn’t healthy,” you responded, voice softening out of concern. 
His eyes still clouded with alcohol, he looks at you before speaking. “I don’t know how to move on.” He admitted, voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to live without you. I loved you…and I still do.”
He silently weeps once and for all, crumbling before the love of his life. You didn’t know what else to say, so you settled on simply allowing his head to rest on your shoulder; you always were his favorite shoulder to cry on, after all. Wrapping an arm around him, you pet his head as you lull him. Instinctively, he envelops you into a warm embrace, face burying itself deeper into your chest. 
As he continued to sob like a baby, the sorcerer allowed his emotions to flow freely – months of bottling them up into liquor bottles had finally caught up to him. 
He was beyond ecstatic underneath all the melancholy; not only had you allowed him to get closer to you, but even went as far as hugging him too. He couldn't believe it. Just a few moments ago, you were talking about forcing him to move on, but now – you were actually back in his arms, where you belonged.
He felt relieved for a moment, almost to the point where he wasn't thinking properly anymore. You were finally back in his arms, where you needed to be; he refused to let go.
It felt like a fever dream, but this was all he needed. Even if you’re gone, morning come, he’ll live in this moment for the rest of eternity. 
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tranzombie · 7 months
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guys can you recommend bandom fanfics that aren’t extremely depressing for a mentally fragile reading addict
asotm has ruined me beyond repair so now i’m skeptical of everything i read
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cake-writes · 5 months
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Just This Once
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Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.
Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On
Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  
You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 
So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were away? Why does he want to do anything for you? 
Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 
You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  
What the hell is he doing?  
He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  
It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 
“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 
Your birth control must be overdue, then.  
“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  
He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 
Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 
As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  
He could get you pregnant. 
A jolt of arousal shoots through him.
Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  
His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  
Kakashi swears. Loudly.
You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  
He’s already too attached. Way too fucking attached. 
Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 
His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  
What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  
Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  
The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  
The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock to make the entry a little easier. 
“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 
“Mm. Do you want me to?” 
His question hangs heavy in the air.  
The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  
You want to say no, he realises.  
He wants you to say no. 
“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 
Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 
His.  
Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do.  
He agrees.
“Just this once.”  
Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there hasn't been a risk.
Your coy little smile is what prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 
He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 
As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. 
He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 
To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the soft skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 
“More than okay,” you sigh. 
As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  
He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  
“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  
So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  
He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?
He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 
Later. 
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 
Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 
He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 
“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 
“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate.  
It’s selfish, he knows. 
The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 
He wants it to take. 
Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  
“Close?”  
Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  
He stamps it down. 
“I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 
When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I— shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  
“Really?” 
To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  
It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form.  
“Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 
His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  
Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.
Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  
“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 
“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.” He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.
You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  
Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal, that he’s always refused to name.
He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something. He wants them to mean that you’re his. 
He’s too attached.  
To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he snaps his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  
It doesn’t last long. He’s too worked up.  
Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 
“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.
When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  
“Come inside me,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  
His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 
“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 
If he moves right now, he’s done for.  
When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  
You finish first. Always. 
“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  
Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss just beneath your ear, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  
“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 
Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  
Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 
“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 
He laughs softly at that. No more teasing. You want him to be nice.
You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 
“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 
Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 
Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 
His jaw tenses at the reminder. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 
Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 
No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 
And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 
Get her there, then pull out. 
Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 
A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 
“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 
Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 
He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 
Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 
“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 
He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth to assert his control, and still, he recites his mantra. 
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then—  
You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 
Seeing your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced.  
“Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 
“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 
The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own, and you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  
He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 
Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white, marking you as his.  
It feels good. It feels right. 
He’s too attached. 
He doesn’t care. 
As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 
Why the hell did he do that?  
What the hell did he do?
Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  
He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  
Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  
“Did I— Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep and hit your cervix a little too hard. That’s what usually tends to happen. 
“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 
Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  
His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 
You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 
Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 
They’re happy tears, you said. 
You’re happy with him. 
He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go.  
You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  
Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  
“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 
You laugh and turn him back towards you, gently cupping the side of his face. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  
That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  
“We shouldn’t have done that,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 
He wants to do it again.  
He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 
It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 
“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  
Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 
He swallows thickly. “I’m fine.” 
When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  
“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 
You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  
It’s cute. You’re cute. 
“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  
“What?” 
This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Why aren’t you more upset?” 
“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this because of my birth control?”  
“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  
You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 
Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 
Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 
“That’s so bad! What if you actually got me pregnant?” 
A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  
You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 
“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  
How the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 
But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d run away as fast as he could. 
A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 
“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 
Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone, never mind the words you speak in it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  
And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. 
“Because,” he rasps.  
The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t face you. He’s too embarrassed. 
“Because why?” you ask breathlessly. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 
A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 
“Hm? Why not?” 
To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 
“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. Do you know why?” 
The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.
Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 
He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 
He likes you.
“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 
Snippet #1:
“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you. 
“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. I just didn’t think I’d be able to get an appointment that soon. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 
While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “And what if I don’t want to be careful?”  
He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 
“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself. “You tell me.” 
Snippet #2:
Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 
You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 
He shifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 
You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing this is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 
He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 
Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 
Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 
That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 
“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 
 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 
“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 
Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 
Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 
When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  
A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)
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vexwerewolf · 26 days
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I’m suddenly getting swathes of Lancer hate across my feed… Has something happened in the fandom? “Union is ______ how could they paint them as even remotely good. They allow _____, and I hate the devs they are ______. The whole thing is just 40k with communist veneer”.
Like am I taking crazy pills…? I thought that all of the problems were literally like right there on the tin “we are a utopia in progress! We will obtain it by any means possible even if it means being everything we say we are not/fighting against. As the player you decide what is right. How much will you ignore for someone else’s idea of utopia?” Like doesn’t it mean all the tools to actually change are there and that is the HOPE aspect of all of this?
(Sorry if this in incoherent grammar is a weak point and I pulled something in my back simply standing up. Now I am sad and crook backed in spasmodic pain)
This isn't an argument I feel super enthusiastic about stepping into, because it gets the most annoying sort of people in your mentions eager to maliciously misrepresent what you say.
However, yeah, there are some pretty terrible readings of Union floating around. I'd invoke "media literacy" because think that a lot of this comes from people not really holistically engaging with the fictional future history of Lancer, but also from a sort of dogmatic purism that requires future societies to be flawless, else they're irredeemable.
It is important to note that ThirdComm is the direct descendant of two highly imperfect societies. FirstComm was formed as a response to the Three Great Traumas of discovering the Massif Vaults (and thus that they were the inheritors of a fallen world), the wars over the Massif Vaults, and the discovery of the lost colonies, all of which collectively showed humanity how close it had come to total extinction.
FirstComm decided that it had a responsibility to ensure that humanity never risked extinction again. It manifested this by trying to colonize every habitable planet it could find, pumping out ship after ship to seed the cosmos with as much human life as it possibly could. This led to problems when it encountered civilizations like the Karrakin Federation and the Aun, who had been carrying humanity's torch just fine by themselves, thank you very much.
SecComm was an Anthrochauvinist fascist state. The book defines it thusly:
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We can see a lot of Anthrochauvinist historical romanticism in the mech naming schemes of Harrison Armory, SSC and IPS-N - the fact that Harrison Armory names its mechs after great military leaders of pre-Fall Earth history, IPS-N does the same with naval figures, and SSC uses the names of Earth animals. Even the GMS Everest is named for a mountain on Earth. It's very Cradle-centric.
Anthrochauvinism was, to be clear, largely just an excuse for colonialism and hegemony. Atrocities could easily be justified under by stating that whoever they're being committed against were a threat to the Continuance of Humanity - a term that SecComm got to define.
It's also at this point that we have to zoom in from broad sociopolitical points to address one very specific piece of history: the New Prosperity Agreement. This was signed to prevent the outbreak of a Second Union-Karrakin War, and mandated that the Karrakin Houses would maintain privileged levels of autonomy within Union, and that they would be granted colonial rights to the entire Dawnline Shore. This agreement, struck in 3007u, basically defines much of the current political situation today.
ThirdComm was a final and inevitable reaction to the atrocities, abuses and excesses of SecComm. The unspeakable horrors of Hercynia were the spark, but I need to stress how little Hercynia actually mattered in the larger Revolution - at the start of NRfaW, it's explicitly stated that almost nobody in the galaxy even knows where it is, let alone what happened there. The Revolution was a generalized response to SecComm's tyranny, with no single rallying cry.
The Revolution might also have failed entirely, but for a critical error by Harrison Armory: pissing off the Karrakin Trade Baronies. After getting kicked off Cradle, the Anthrochauvinist Party organised a fleet at Ras Shamra to try and retake Cradle. Simultaneously, however, they were attempting to secure protectorate agreements to steal worlds in the Dawnline Shore out from under the KTB. Putting these two together and making five, the KTB assumed that the fleet was pointed at Karrakis, and started the First Interest War.
The First Interest War initially favoured the KTB. They smashed the fleet above Ras Shamra and simultaneously conquered the moon of Creighton in the Dawnline Shore. However, they underestimated just how ruthless Harrison I was - he "retook" Creighton by relativistic bombardment, and then conquered four of the 12 worlds of the Dawnline Shore with mechanised chassis, a technology the KTB had not adopted and had no counter for.
To prevent further loss of life, Union was eventually forced to broker a peace agreement that saw Harrison I handing himself over to Union justice in return for Harrison Armory's continued sovereignty, and the KTB joining Union as a full member state.
So, with that historical context out of the way, let me get to the second part of this absurd essay I'm writing.
Third Committee Union isn't a civilization that arose from whole cloth. It's shaped by five thousand years of Union history, six thousand years of post-Fall history, and six thousand years of pre-Fall history before that. It is, ultimately, an extremely well-thought-out and well-worldbuilt fictional polity, in that all of its imperfections come from traceable root causes in its history.
Why does ThirdComm permit the abuses of the KTB? Because to stop them, it would likely have to go to war, and such a war would butcher billions. Worse, to do so, it would probably have to ally with Harrison Armory and make horrific concessions.
Why does ThirdComm permit the expansionism and cryptochauvinism of the Armory? Because to stop them, it would likely have to go to war, and such a war would butcher billions. Worse, to do so, it would probably have to ally with the KTB and make horrific concessions.
Nobody in CentComm likes that Harrison Armory are empire-building expansionists. Nobody in CentComm likes that the KTB has a hereditary nobility and enforces blockades against planets that rebel against it. The problem is that ThirdComm is, in historical terms, still relatively new. They've been around five hundred years, and compared to the 1600 years that SecComm was around and the 2800 years FirstComm existed for, that's not very much.
ThirdComm is attempting to decouple itself from the Cradle-first politics of its predecessor, and to amend the many, many atrocities committed in the name of Humanity. It is not easy to do any of these things. SecComm was defined almost entirely by the fact that if it didn't like what you were doing, it would send in the military as a first response. Every time ThirdComm chooses to do the same, its legitimacy erodes, because the mission of ThirdComm is to prove that diverse, vibrant and compassionate human civilization can exist without devolving into war and bloodshed. ThirdComm always tries diplomacy as a first response because if it doesn't, millions of people could die.
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luvt0kki · 6 months
Text
𝟎𝟎𝟐 | 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭
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The distance and the time between us
It’ll never change my mind, cause’
Baby, I would die for you
🎧 : Die For You - The Weekend
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚。⋆ ୨୧
001 | 002 | next
pairings : ot8 x reader ( mingi x reader )
wc: 6.1k ( sorry for any errors ;-; )
cw: mature, minors do not interact, nsfw, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn, polyamory, smut , dom!Mingi for this chapter, choking kink, reader is bratty here, seggs, oral, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, hinted threesome, we feel bad for Wooyoung, filming/recording kink, some possessiveness on Mingi’s end, voyeurism. SPECIAL APPEARANCE OF SOMEONE IN THE END 👀
REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.
a/n: I’m so amazed at how well received the first chapter was and it really gave me the motivation to write the second one. I hope you guys like this one, it’s been awhile since I wrote some smut it’s like I’m losing my skill of seggsual euphemisms. ALSO ONE OF MY FAVOURITE WRITERS HERE IS READING MY FIC?! like omg no way 😭 hope you guys like this one . ( Feel to scream/fangirl in my askbox, I love those kind of interactions. I NEED TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS TOO) 💕
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The Destiny was a spaceship Hongjoong procured with frightening ease from the Military Space Base he was stationed in long ago.
That was the sugarcoated way of saying he stole it.
If he hadn’t turned his back on the corrupt Military base, this fighter military starship turned into one of the most renowned ships and weaponized fortress, wouldn’t have become your shared space with your home, your home being the boys.
“I’ve kept your room clean,” Seonghwa stood next to you while you leaned into Mingi’s side who refused to not be on you in any way. He was clingy like that.
“You didn’t have too, Hwa.”
“I had some time to kill in the months you’ve been away. As usual, I didn’t snoop around.” He reassured you, hands folded neatly and elegantly behind him. “I left some little surprises for you to find too.”
“It’s not like she’ll be staying there all the time,” Mingi said, hand on the small of your back and guiding you up the ramp and into the ship. “She’ll be with me.”
“Don’t hog her.” San butted in, a small slouch in his usually straight posture.
“Awe, Sannie.” You cooed sweetly, rubbing his arm.
Wooyoung groaned, a couple of paces behind you, Mingi, San and Seonghwa.
“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Yunho asked with a lilt of humor in his tone.
“Mingi’s room is next to mine.” Wooyoung huffed, feeling the comfort and safety of the Destiny make him relax with each step they took back into their home.
“And?” Yunho raised a brow.
“Never mind.” I don’t want to hear them fucking.
Even though Wooyoung didn’t say that out loud, Yunho knew what ‘never mind’ entailed. He can tell by the way he threw glances at you but the taller man only smiled and pretended like everything was fine and that he was oblivious.
“Join us in the lounge yeah?” He patted Wooyoung on the back. “We’ll be drinking a bit more and catching up. Plus, you can start to get know her better.”
“O-okay.” He could use a couple of more drinks to relax a bit.
Wooyoung paused a bit in the hall, letting his crew mates walk ahead of him and into the warm lit lounge a couple more steps forward. It’s not that he was anxious about you being here and adjusting to the dynamics with eight of you. He was confused. He felt as if there was something he didn’t know, something kept from him and he just couldn’t quite place his finger on it. It’s like something was staring him right in the face and whatever it was, was just at the tip of his tongue but he really couldn’t conclude what it was.
Other than that, the more he was around you, flashbacks of how you two danced in the club, so close and teasing each other plagued his thoughts. The way you touched him earlier that night left a ghost touch that sent shivers down his spine when he thought about it or like now, when he looked at you leaned into Mingi’s side on the couch with his arm draped over your shoulder laughing at something Jongho said.
Now he could see you properly. The mask was discarded and sat on the low coffee table in the center and without it, he was even more mesmerized. The way your eyes smiled with your lips and how your eyes paid attention to whoever spoke, as if everything they were saying to you was the most wonderful and interesting thing in the world. This was completely different from the woman he had danced with. You looked…sweet?
“Oh? This is the childhood best friend you were talking about.” Your pretty lashes fluttered at the realization while you held conversation with Yeosang sat on the couch across you with San.
Wooyoung perked up in his seat at the mention of him.
“It’s nice to finally meet you. I hope Hongjoong didn’t give you a hard time when you joined.” You smiled gently.
Hongjoong did take a while to warm up to him…but Wooyoung didn’t want to admit it, well not in front of the said man.
“Did he give you a hard time?” Wooyoung turned the question to you.
“Not at all.” You shrugged your shoulders a bit while Mingi played with the ends of the pink bob wig.
“You mean he couldn’t because you two were at each other’s throats.” Yunho chuckled, recalling the memory. “Literally.”
“What?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened, glancing between you and Hongjoong who shared a knowing look with one other. “Someone care to tell me more?”
“Y/N was actually hired to kill Hongjoong.” San spoke up. “She had snuck into the ship when we had docked in Estrade for supplies and she got to him in his office.”
“How?”
San laughed a little at the memory, glancing your way with a smile that Wooyoung has never seen on him before. It was different to the one when he’s happy, this one was tender and sweet.
He tilted his head up a little, hand gesturing to ceiling. “Through the vents.”
“It was almost too good to be true. The Destiny’s vents were perfect for anyone to infiltrate which was why after the incident, I advised him to tighten the security of the ship.” You added, unclasping your heels and slipping them off before folding them beneath you, snuggling closer to Mingi.
“I still don’t know how you found the entryway of the vents or even pried it open.” Hongjoong shook his head at the memory.
“What? Like it’s hard?” You stared down at him with a playful smirk and eyes twinkling challengingly.
“Careful, baby.” Mingi warned lightly, knowing what could transpire if you and Hongjoong went head to head again.
“So what stopped you from killing him?” Wooyoung asked. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.
“My devilishly good looks.” Hongjoong uttered while you said a different answer.
“San.”
A silence fell amongst the group, it was comfortable for the most part but Wooyoung found the silence to be fuel to the bonfire of curiosity that sparked in the private dance room.
Noticing Wooyoung’s inquisitiveness, you decided to give him just enough to quiet his mind.
“San and I had worked together in the past. I trust him with my life. He asked me not to kill Hongjoong so…I didn’t.”
The answer was enough for now and a part of Wooyoung told him to stop prying and that he shouldn’t , not when he’s around all the other members. What irked him as well was how you had said that with such a pretty smile and a soft look in your eyes. Were you really dangerous?
“It’s not like you could, sweetheart.” Hongjoong smirked and you rolled your eyes, quickly deciding to end the growing tension with all the questions. There were things that needed to be discussed with the others. Which was what exactly about you and about your past could be shared with the new crew member.
“No, I couldn’t.”
Your voice was soft, gazing at the Captain in a way Wooyoung felt envious. Could he earn the same gaze from you? Would you look at him one day with the same fondness you had for all of them?
“You’re unfortunately too handsome to kill. It’d be a shame for such a pretty face to be smothered by a pillow.”
Your words made Hongjoong laugh while the rest smiled at how you two interacted. Wooyoung didn’t know if he was reading into it too much but they all looked at you in a way that hinted a closeness that was more than camaraderie, and a bond and trust that grew between a crew.
“As much as I’d love to stay up and catch up with you all, I’m going to retire for the evening.” You bade them good night, hooking the straps of your heels by your finger before getting off the couch and your other hand in Mingi’s.
“Goodnight, fellas.” Mingi clicked his tongue with a smirk, most of them rolling their eyes at him as the two of you made your way to the crews deck.
Once the two of you were out of ear shot, Seonghwa spoke.
“San, you’re pouting.”
“Mingi hogs her.” He murmured almost child like and crossed his arms over his chest.
“We’ll all get a chance to catch up and spend time with her. But you know…Mingi.”
“He’s way too clingy. She was my friend first.”
“Yeah, yeah, we know.” Yunho placed his hands on San’s shoulders briefly before excusing himself to his room.
Wooyoung was next to call it a night, unaware of how Yeosang, Jongho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong watched him leave. They were concerned…but they knew they needed to discuss something. Well, someone.
Wooyoung.
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“So? Did you enjoy my little show?”
Mingi was watching you look around his room as if it was the first time you were ever let in here. He was sat on the foot of his bed, hands on the mattress as you removed your earrings and placed it on his desk.
“I did,” he replied, eyes completely on you and taking you in. “But when I realized that you had been dancing for other men I got jealous.” There was that hint of agitation in his voice.
“You don’t need to be jealous.” You reassured him, removing Yunho’s blazer and draping it over neatly on the back rest of Ming’s desk chair. “They never touched me.”
Mingi’s eyes darkened at the sight of your almost naked form. It has been too long since he was last with you.
You watched Mingi’s eyes rake your form through the mirror. He scanned you from your heels to your head. His eyes lingered on the plumpness of your ass accentuated by the lace purple underwear a bit longer before he met your eyes in the mirror.
“Keep the wig on, baby.”
“Oh, you like it?” You grinned, turning around to slowly walk towards him, letting the beaded strings of your bralette sway and shimmer.
“I like the whole get up. It’s sexy.” His hand reached for your waist once you stood between his parted thighs, the tall big man gazing up at you with desire.
“You like that I’m dressed like a stripper?” You raised a brow questioningly while you ran your fingers through his short pink hair that matched your wig.
“I like you in anything.” He slid his hands up higher til his thumbs rest just below the band of your bra. “You look so pretty.”
“I love the new hair,” you giggled, caressing his handsome face. “Yunho colored it for you?”
“Yeah,” he hummed, leaning his head into your abdomen.
“I’m sorry I was away for so long.”
“Take me with you next time…or San or Yeosang.” He murmured, voice soft as you held him to you. “I’ll rest easier knowing one of us is with you.”
“I can handle myself. You know that.”
Mingi groaned a little before guiding you to sit on his lap, your pretty legs straddling his waist while his hands supported and cradled your back.
“I know…” he sighed.
The two of you were now face to face. Mingi looked into your eyes, searching them. For what, you didn’t know but you let him. “But you’ll let me take care of you…” he cupped your face gently, his thumb caressing your cheekbone and like a cat, you leaned into his touch, eyes closing as you relished his warmth. “Right?” His thumb swiped over your lower lip, your eyes fluttering open as he parted them just a little.
Despite his reputation, he was your gentle and loving Mingi. Sure, he was rough around the edges and appeared domineering. No one flies a fighter jet like he does and as the gunner and the best marksman among the crew, he was intimidating. But he gave himself to you and you did the same.
“Always.”
This was what he missed. The intimacy that he shared with you. That sweet loving gaze—
Mingi felt a sudden shock of heat pass through him. In less than two seconds your loving gaze intensified to desire and your lips were wrapped around his thumb, enveloping his digit in your mouth. The cherry on top for him was how you swirled your hot tongue and sucked lightly. You pulled back with a cute little quiet pop and looked at him with eyes that were far too innocent after what you just did. Licking his lips, he gripped your face, gently but strong enough the way you liked and to establish dominance.
This was also something he missed.
“If my pretty girl wants to be naughty…” he leaned in closer, the cute challenging look in your eyes unwavering. “I’m going to have to remind her how to behave.”
“But I am a good girl.” You shrugged him off of you so that you could press your lips on his defined jaw. “I told you, I never let anyone touch me.”
“You let Wooyoung touch you.” His hands rested on your hips now as you left gentle kisses along the skin of his neck, appeasing to him.
“So? It’s not like I’ll let him fuck me.” You nipped at his neck, tone sweet and unfortunately too bratty.
Next thing you knew, his ringed hand wrapped around your throat. It wasn’t in anyway to hurt you, Mingi would never. No. It’s how you two played sometimes. His hold on you made heat stir in your lower abdomen and his intense gaze was getting you excited.
“Of course you won’t.” He spoke, voice deep and low, and with his other hand on your hip, he guided you to drag your clothed cunt over the bulge of his trousers. Seeing your determined gaze crack with the friction, he grinned. “You won’t let him fuck you. You know why?”
You shook your head, biting your lip to hold back your whimpers, a little embarrassed that your resolve was so quick to crumble because of him but you knew that turned him on.
“Use your words, baby.” He squeezed your neck gently while his other hand stilled your hips, making you huff at the pause.
“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips yourself, mouth watering at the thought of his member hidden beneath his pants.
Mingi tapped your hip in warning. You stilled and you did your best to glare at him. “Why?”
“He hasn’t earned it, baby.” His hand left your neck, trailing down to briefly brush the dip between your collarbones and he leaned to kiss your chest. “He hasn’t earned it like we had.”
“Is that why you were gatekeeping me?”
“Maybe.” You felt him grin on your skin as he kissed what was exposed of your breasts in your bralette. “Get up.”
You almost whined, not wanting to leave his lap or his kisses to stop but you did so anyway.
It’s like you were back to square one, standing between his legs while he gazed at you except you couldn’t stop glancing at the bulge in his trousers.
He clicked his tongue. “Is that what you want, baby?”
Instead of answering him, which could get you into some fun trouble, you slowly got on your knees without breaking his gaze. You slid your hands up his muscular thick thighs, knowing to not touch where you wanted to touch him the most.
Mingi noticed this and smiled. “Good girl.” He cooed, tucking the strands of your pink wig behind your ear. “You remember. Go on then.”
Getting his permission, your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, prying the fabric apart to reveal his erection in the confines of his briefs. You skimmed your fingers along the waistband, admiring his toned abdomen before tugging it low enough til his cock sprung free.
Without wasting another moment, you wrapped your hand around his length, feeling your walls pulse around nothing at how hot and heavy he was in your hand. His tip was pink and growing slick with precum. You licked your lips at the sight and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.
Mingi groaned lowly when you slowly pumped his length, kissing the hot and pink tip before enveloping the head of his cock in your mouth.
“Fuck.” He hissed. The sight of your glossed lips wrapped around him and the sensation of your wet tongue swirling his tip was sinfully perfect. “You look so pretty right now, baby.”
Oh how you loved how deep his voice was when he talked dirty. “God, I’m so lucky I get to fuck you first.”
He threw his head back as you took him deeper in your mouth, your struggle to take more of him something he always found so cute.
As much as you loved to blow your boyfriend, he was always a challenge to take. He was thicker than and longer than your other lovers. Well, Yunho was also a challenge but you were focused on Mingi right now and he was another story.
Your brows were knitted and your eyes were looking at him pleadingly as you did your best to bob your head along his length, sucking and swirling your tongue the way he liked while using your hand to pump what you couldn’t take of him. His taste and his low moans were making you ache even more, god you couldn’t wait for him to touch you.
“Shit, baby. You’re doing so well taking me in that pretty little mouth.” He praised, petting the top of your head lovingly. “C’mon baby. The quicker you make me cum the sooner I’ll be touching you. You’re getting wet aren’t you?”
Batting your lashes at him, you did your best to tell him yes while hollowing your cheeks and taking him a little more deeper, lost in his taste and his heat and fighting against your gag reflex. Your body was buzzing with need and when his tip reached the back of your throat, Mingi let out the prettiest moan.
The curse of silence that fell upon his room for months since you left was finally broken. Within the four walls, the not so quiet sound of your muffled moans and the obscene wet slurping of you sucking his cock bounced off them. You were taking your time, enjoying each glide of him against your flattened tongue and pumping the rest of his length in tandem with your movement.
Mingi through heavy lidded eyes searched for your gaze and he didn’t know if he regretted doing so because seeing your pretty eyes look up at him as you bobbed your head and suckled at his sensitive tip, he could’ve cum right then and there.
Lost in the sinfully indulgent pleasure, Mingi hadn’t noticed that his door was open just a crack, not fully closed. Even if he did notice, he wouldn’t care since it wouldn’t be the first time. Plus the rest of the crew weren’t strangers to being caught in the act with you. Most of the time they ignore it or tease each other about it after. And sometimes, it led to some…extra fun. But the man who recently settled into the room beside Mingi didn’t know that.
He was just on his way back from the showers since only two rooms had their own bathroom which was Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s.
He didn’t mean to look. He was just supposed to take his cold shower and then head to bed.
The sounds lured him in. And with his pent up sexual frustration he had only wanted to shut the stupid door fully and scold Mingi tomorrow about it…but when he saw the shade of pink that was haunting him, he just couldn’t function. Not when your head was bobbing up and down between Mingi’s spread thighs and how your back and ass looked so sexy while you were at it.
Wooyoung gulped, his own cock stirring at the lewd sight. He really should go.
And yet he continued to gawk at you, taking in the curve of your waist and the aesthetically pleasing view of your back. As if it couldn’t get any worse for Wooyoung, he noticed your free hand was between your thighs. Somehow in that dimly lit room he could see how you were working your fingers below you.
You moaned around Mingi’s length, the vibrations earning you a deep groan.
‘Fuck.’ Wooyoung swore over and over in his head, eyes unable to break from the way you were touching yourself. He wondered how wet you were. If your arousal soaked through the cotton of your underwear and if your fingers were easily gliding over your swollen clit.
Mingi, despite the dizziness of pleasure muddling his brain, finally noticed your hand between your thighs. “You getting wet by just sucking my cock, baby?”
Your lips released him with a pop and you were softly panting, trying to catch your breath. You nodded in response going at it again and this time, you were only using your mouth now and taking him deeper. Your hand other hand left your aching cunt only to rest atop his left thigh like your other hand on his right to keep you steady.
“Shit!” Mingi cursed, his hand coming to the back of your head to guide you down further, feeling the pressure on the base of his spine as he watched you take whatever you could fit of him in your little mouth.
Wooyoung bit his lip to keep himself from making any noise but he could still feel his throat dry at the obscene sight. The sound of your muffled whines and moans was driving him crazy.
Mingi’s fingers tangled themselves in your pink wig, his hips bucking until he stilled, cock twitching in your mouth. Hot spurts of his release spilled down your throat, your eyes not breaking away from his face that was contorted in pure bliss.
“Oh, fuck, baby.” He whined.
Only his tip in your mouth, he felt you swallow his release. “Good fucking girl.” His grip on your wig loosened to pet you. You hummed at his words, batting your lashes up at him in the way that made his heart flutter before you released him from your mouth. “Open up, let me see.”
Mingi was down bad. Really bad.
He reached into his pocket to whip out his phone, swiping the screen to the camera app. With pink lip gloss smudged at the corners of your mouth, your wig a little messy and his perspective with you on your knees, gave the camera the perfect view of your cute face, your tits in your purple bralette and his inner thighs that framed you.
You parted your lips and stuck out your tongue a little, and Mingi bit his lip when he saw a little bit of his cum remained on your tongue.
“Fuck, you look so hot, baby.” He captured a couple of shots while you decided to extend his high and to also give him a couple more pics to take.
Giving him a cute smile, you kissed the head of his sensitive cock and heard the little digital tone of the record button in his cell. He hissed at the stimulation and yet he let you continue to ride out his orgasm, his thighs tensing then relaxing a bit as you licked along his length.
Mingi was going to use this for the next time you’re away which won’t be anytime soon but you know, just in case and also for bragging rights for getting to fuck you in your stripper costume.
“Will you return the favor, Min?” You asked him, your voice husky from taking his cock deep in your throat. “I showed you how good I am for you.”
He couldn’t help but grin at your cute tone. You knew he was going to show this to the others to make them jealous so you were putting on a show exclusively for Mingi that the others won’t be able to have.
“Tell me exactly what favor I have to return to my good girl. Hm?” He knew how shy you actually were when speaking about what you wanted in a little more detail and it was something that all of them found endearing. Even though you could be bold, when it came down to things in the bedroom, you were submissive. You were bratty which was in your nature most of the time and Mingi like three other members of the crew loved to tame and fuck the brat out of you.
With your head muddled with lust, you softly uttered out your response, unaware of how needy you sounded.
“I want you to taste me too.”
Wooyoung palmed himself through his sweats. He wanted to taste you. He’s been wanting to and thinking about it since he danced with you.
“Yeah? And then I’ll fuck your pretty little pussy. You want that?”
You nodded, suckling at his length.
“Take off your top, baby. Show them what they’re missing out on right now.”
Without anymore direction, you knew what to do. You slowly got up, his hand holding his phone following your movement and he captured the complete look one last time.
Your fingers pinched at the front clasps of your bra, Mingi’s eyes glued on you, watching you intently.
You unhooked it and without rushing, unveiled to him and the camera your bare breasts. From where Wooyoung stood, he couldn’t see the teasing reveal. It was frustrating. Especially when you slowly let the pretty bralette drop into a pile at your feet and he could only see your naked back.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
Not wanting to get caught, he quietly retreated back into his room, shut the door and locked it. With his back against the cool surface, he freed his cock from his sweats and wrapped a hand around his length, cursing Mingi in his head for being so lucky. With each stroke, the man was forgotten and his head was filled with thoughts of you. He tightened his grip when he began to imagine himself in Mingi’s place.
Was he going to feel guilty about it later? Yes but fuck did he needed to jack off. He’ll regret it later.
You gripped the pillow beneath your head while the other was over your hand trying to muffle your voice as moans left you so embarrassingly easy. Mingi had one hand holding his phone your way while the other was splayed on your belly as his thumb massaged your clit and he thrusted into your tight heat.
Your panties were just pushed to the side while he stuffed you full with his thick length. He had slipped in so easily with how wet you were and you were creaming around his cock, the mess of it all and the obscene wet squelching making him fuck you harder.
“Mingi,” you panted, your core hot with pleasure and mind spinning from the delicious drag of his cock against your pulsing walls. “B-big. You’re so big.” You whined out, the pleasure close to making you cry.
“Yeah? But you can take me right? Look at you taking me so well. Fuck.”
You nodded at his words, unable to form anything coherent and not caring about the fact he was filming the mess you were making on his cock.
His praises only made your head spin further and when he tossed his phone to the side and was focused on fucking you, the tension in your lower belly grew tighter.
Mingi admired the way you looked before him, tits bouncing with each snap of his hips and your legs around him while the garter where money bills had been clipped to earlier remained on your thigh and the gorgeous, perfect sight of your pussy lips parted to accommodate his cock that stretched you out. All of that was consuming him. He missed how you felt, how smooth and warm your skin was, and how his name left your lips in moans and sweet sighs.
The wet smacking of his hips against yours and both of yours and his moans filled the room, and unfortunately for Wooyoung, he could hear you both despite it being muffled. Well he could hear because he had opened his door a little and the two of you were too preoccupied to take note of how Mingi’s door wasn’t shut fully. He was fucking his cock into his fist to the sound of you both.
Your arms reached out for Mingi and his heart melted at the sight. He leaned forward letting them wrap around him and your legs did the same with his hips. He crashed his plump lips against yours, swallowing your moans and cries, feeling your walls tighten further around him telling him you were close. He was close too.
He felt your nails dig into the muscles of his back and he groaned at the sweet pain, his hand between the two of you applying more pressure to your clit which pushed you to the edge. Walls tightening around him which hindered his fast thrusts, he let you feel your orgasm and god, did he love it when you came around him. Your velvety walls spasmed around his cock and he could feel it, and your thighs shook from the sudden wave of release.
“That’s my good girl. That’s it. Cum around my cock. Good girl.” He rasped against your ear before kissing your neck and slowly beginning to move his hips again.
“M-Min— wait,” you whimpered, sensitive and body electric.
“I’m close baby. You’ll let me finish too right? Inside?”
The idea made you moan softly and cave. “O-okay.” You managed to get out, the overstimulation so good and too much at the same time.
You gasped when he sped up, chasing his release. He was groaning and panting against your neck like a dog in heat. Your fingers threaded through his hair, gripping the short strands as you felt your second orgasm building up again.
“I love you.” He murmured against your neck, rutting into you. You held him closer. “I love you. I love you. I love you…”He chanted over and over, completely loss in you. You missed those words from him and you weren’t sure if you were tearing up from the pleasure or how much you loved him too. Maybe both.
“I love you too Mingi.” You managed to say as your body bounced with each thrust and you gripped his hair tighter, the heels of your feet digging into lower back.
“Fuck!” Mingi snapped his hips one last time before completely stilling, shooting his hot cum into your womb. The sensation of him filling you up made you cum again so quickly and Mingi hissed at the sinful feeling of your walls fluttering around him again, milking his cock for all he’s worth, and what couldn’t fit in your womb began to leak out of you.
“I love you,” he sighed again, lifting his head from your neck to press his lips on yours messily and you kiss him back, both of you coming down from your highs. “Never leave me again, please.”
That tugged at your heart strongly.
Many believed it was San who was the clingiest among all them but in truth, it was Mingi. It didn’t look like it with his tough, bad boy coded exterior and how brutal he could be when he was armed but it was him who you trusted and opened up to first when you joined them.
“Even if you can’t, just say you will.”
And then your heart was ripped out your chest and in his hands.
“I won’t leave,” you told him, kissing his lips and cupping his face in your hands. “I promise.”
“This was the longest you were away.”
“I know…I’m sorry but I’m here now. I won’t be going anywhere. Okay?”
He nodded, sliding his hands under you, cradling your back so he could move the both of you to a comfortable position. Without untangling from each other’s embrace, he lied on his back with you on top him, your chest pressed against his and his arms wrapped around you.
In the room next to Mingi’s, Wooyoung’s head was thrown back as he came down from his own high. His release dripped down his hand and stained the fabric of his shirt.
While the two lovers on the other side laid in each others loving embrace, he was all alone on the floor with his back against the foot of his bed after having imagined fucking you and wishing his cum was on your body instead.
“Shit…” he cursed to himself , realizing what he had just done.
The guilt was gonna eat him up after and he may not be able to look you or Mingi in the eyes tomorrow after what he did.
Did he still want to fuck you? Yes. But he’ll keep that fact to himself and only himself. No one needed to know. It’ll pass anyways. Maybe a couple more times jerking off to you will make him get over it.
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Yunho stretched his back on the way back to the crews deck, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were looking over the data you had gotten for them and he had just finished some touches to his and Wooyoung’s weapon reparations for Mingi.
Before heading to his room, he decided to check on the said man who had always come back with his, Jongho’s and Wooyoung’s weapons damaged every single time he was sent on the field.
“Fuck,” he heard Mingi’s faint voice at the start of the corridor.
He sighed as he removed his gloves, heading to Mingi’s room, his brow rising as he saw the door slightly open. He glanced at Wooyoung’s closed door and shook his head a little before stepping inside Mingi’s room and finally closing the door behind him.
He leaned against metal, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Mingi naked in all his glory fuck into you from behind. Your moans and whimpers were muffled as you bit at the pillow. Mingi’s hands were on your hips and his hold on you was the only reason your ass was still up. Your thighs were shaking and trembling with each thrust as the new angle made you feel him deeper inside of you.
Yunho bit his lip watching the two of you and glanced over at Mingi’s desk where his blazer was then at the mirror where he could see you face down and ass up with a your back beautifully curved as Mingi fucked you.
He began to unbutton his shirt.
“Next time, make sure you close the door properly. I could hear you from the corridor.” Yunho finally spoke but his presence didn’t stop Mingi’s rhythmic thrusts.
“It wasn’t closed?” He grunted, a hand pressing against your upper back to keep you down.
“It wasn’t wide open but if I was Wooyoung, I would be suffering.” Yunho threw his gloves onto the desk. “Hi, sweetheart.” He went to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed and speaking as if you weren’t being railed from behind.
He caressed the crown of your head, noticing the mascara smudged around your eyes in a pretty way. Yunho also noticed Mingi’s cell nearby on the bed and rolled his eyes, knowing exactly why it was there.
He’ll ask Mingi for a copy later.
“How many times has he made you cum?” He asked you, thumb wiping away the smudged makeup.
“Ah—f-fo—,” you gasped, clutching the pillow tigther . “Four.” It was cute how you couldn’t really speak properly.
“Four times ?” Yunho was impressed, you nodded quickly. “How many times has he said I love you?”
“Shut up, man.” Mingi huffed, knowing he was going to get teased for that.
Yunho raised his hands in surrender, he wasn’t here for that anyways.
He looked at Mingi. The marksman’s brows were knitted together and he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and below where you two were connected was a darkened spot on the sheets. A mess caused by both yours and Mingi’s release, well mostly Mingi’s as your pussy was leaking white from being filled to the brim.
“I know you wanted her for yourself tonight but…” Yunho slipped his hand into yours, and you held his hand tight as you moaned into the pillow.
“Got room for one more?”
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starry-crossing-zone · 3 months
Text
Oh, Captain - Rex (TCW)
Summary: The 501st is getting a new Co-General and Rex wants to be prepared. His brothers, however, dare him to flirt with a woman at 79s the night before. Length: 1370 words Warnings: Unnamed Female Character (Can be Read as OC or Reader); Rex's Horrible Flirting Skills; Fives is a Menace
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79s was packed full of clones as usual, though the color scheme of the night was predominantly blue and yellow for the 501st and 212th. They had just finished a battle together in the Mid Rim and returned to Coruscant to resupply before they shipped out again. And in the case of the 501st, they were on Coruscant to pick up their new Jedi general. 
It was the only reason why Rex went out that night in the first place. 
He had to make sure that all of his men were presentable for their meeting with the new assistant general, who had been assigned to the battalion so that General Skywalker could be called away more often. General Skywalker assured Rex that the new assistant general wouldn’t be that much of a stick in the mud, but Rex didn’t want to take a risk. 
“Oh, come on, Rex, you heard the General. The new general’s fun. Have a drink for kriff’s sake,” Fives urged, placing a drink in front of Rex. 
“I’m all set, Fives,” Rex replied, pushing the drink away from him. 
“Who is the new assistant general, anyways?” Echo asked curiously, leaning over. “The Commander didn’t have a name.”
“I bet they’re a brand new Jedi. Young like General Skywalker,” Jesse stated, earning some nods. “He mentioned that they trained together.”
“It’s not for us to speculate,” Rex replied, earning a sigh from some of his brothers. “We need to be prepared. I don’t want the new general’s first impression of us to be that we look sloppy.”
“Oh, relax, Rex,” Cody spoke up, causing the rest of the 501st to perk up. If anyone could talk some sense into Rex, it would be Cody. “You’re going to be fine. Have a drink. We were just in trenches on a dustball for fifteen rotations. Or maybe make a new friend.”
“Like her,” Fives interjected, smacking Rex on the shoulder. 
The entire table turned to watch a humanoid woman take a seat at the bar. A woman alone in a clone bar? It would be about five seconds before she was swarmed. But there was something about her that intrigued Rex. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was just something about her that drew all of his attention without any work at all. 
“I’ve never seen her here before,” Echo stated as the woman ordered a drink. 
“I wouldn’t mind seeing her around,” Fives spoke up before glancing at Rex. “And looks like you wouldn’t either, Captain.”
“Not all of us think with what’s under our codpieces, Fives,” Rex grunted in return. 
“I’m thinking that they are, though,” Jesse pointed out, gesturing to two clones who made their way over to the mysterious woman. “Hopefully her first experience with a clone isn’t one of Fox’s shinies. She’ll never come to a clone bar again.”
Rex glanced over at the woman again before getting up from his seat. Fives looked over at Echo with a shit-eating grin, to which Echo simply rolled his eyes. Rex walked around the bar, nodding to his brothers that he passed, but keeping his gaze on the mystery woman and the two clones that sat down next to her. 
But before they got too far into a conversation, she seemed to say something with a seductive smile and his brothers got up and left her alone without a word of protest. Now, downright curious, Rex found his legs carrying him over to the woman. She turned her head and their eyes met for the first time. His heart seemed to stutter as he took the last few steps toward her. 
“They weren’t bothering you, were they?” Rex asked, causing the woman to smile. 
“No, not at all. I told them that I was just looking for a drink and nothing more. They seemed to do the rest of the math.” She took a sip of her drink, peering over the rim of her glass and practically into Rex’s soul. “Sorry if you were planning on playing hero, Commander.”
“It’s Captain, actually. Captain Rex,” Rex introduced himself, causing the woman’s eyes to widen a small fraction. 
“My apologies, Captain Rex.”
And there was that arrhythmia again. Was this woman part-siren or something?
“You can just call me Rex,” he assured her, causing the woman to smile softly. “And what exactly should I call you, ma’am?”
“Anything but ‘ma’am’,” she quipped, taking another sip of her drink. “You’re making me feel a little too old, Captain.” 
Kriff, he could get used to her calling him that. 
They got to talking. Not so much specifics about themselves, but rather life around them. The GAR, galactic politics, the drink menu. Rex didn’t even realize that he literally didn’t know any basic facts about the woman until she got up to leave for the night. 
“Do you come to this part of town often?” Rex asked, causing the woman to chuckle. 
“Not usually, but I suppose I could make an exception . . . Captain.”
Rex watched her walk out the door before he was suddenly swarmed by brothers, rattling off question after question. Up until Cody, as the highest ranking officer of the bunch, took control of the situation and asked one simple question. 
“What’s her name?”
Rex opened his mouth to reply, but instead winced, causing his brothers around him to groan. 
“He’s hopeless,” Fives sighed, shaking his head. 
“He was hopeless the second that he decided to follow your advice,” Echo pointed out. 
*~*~*~*
Rex walked through the rows of his men, inspecting them one last time while the General and Commander brought aboard their new General. Co-General. Whatever. Either way, Rex wanted to impress them. And that meant that his men had to be in tip top shape. But when he heard the doors to the hangar open, Rex quickly took his place at the front. 
Only to nearly drop his helmet when he recognized the woman walking with Anakin and Ahsoka. And when he heard Fives’s giggle, he could only swallow down a choice set of words.
“And here’s our captain, Rex,” Anakin introduced, causing their eyes to lock for the first time since the bar. “The best of the best.”
“I would expect no less,” she replied with an easygoing and mischievous smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain Rex.”
“You as well, General,” Rex practically choked out, trying to not sweat through his blacks. 
“Rex, this the new co-general,” Ahsoka introduced, adding the general’s name. “She was Master Plo Koon’s padawan and served with the Wolffe Pack.”
“Why’d you leave it, General?” Rex directed towards the new general, who smiled at him. 
“The Jedi Council needed someone to babysit General Skywalker and because I value public service above my own sanity—”
“—This whole spiel again?” Anakin complained, causing her to turn to him. 
“You're just upset because Admiral Yularen laughed in your face when I told him what happened back on Corellia when you—”
“—Perhaps we should move on to the rest of the tour,” Anakin stressed, causing her to smirk. 
“Of course.”
Anakin and Ahsoka led the way through the rows of troopers, though she lingered behind them. Looking over her shoulder, she offered Rex a smile that made his heart stop for a moment all over again. 
“I’ll be back to meet the full battalion formally once the rest of my briefings are concluded. If that fits with your timeline, Captain?”
“Yes, of course, General.”
“Great.” She offered him a curt nod before that smirk returned. “And next time we’re at 79s, drinks are on me, Captain.”
The galaxy was testing him today, that was for sure. Rex watched her walk off with Anakin and Ahsoka before slowly putting his bucket back on his head. 
“Fives,” he growled out. “You have exactly five seconds before—”
Fives took off in a sprint across the hangar and Rex took off after him. Echo sighed and shook his head before turning to his comms. Sending Commander Cody a message that Rex did learn that the woman that he was flirting with last night was the new general, Echo couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Fives evade Rex. 
“Well, this is going to be interesting.”
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replaytech · 17 days
Text
I can patch you up | tech x reader
warnings: mentions of injury and bruises, mention of past medical trauma/medical anxiety
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-
Doing target practice with a broken hand probably wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.
You didn’t want anyone worrying about you or making you sit out on a mission, so you kept to yourself about accidentally rolling a metal storage crate onto your hand.
After a few minutes though, you had enough of the pain. You snuck away and back onto the ship so you could find a med kit and rest your hand for a little while.
You start searching through the many storage compartments, but come up empty handed.
You let out a sigh and trudge your way up to the cockpit, but stop in your tracks when you see tech on his data pad.
You’re about to turn around and walk away but it’s too late, “I thought you were practicing”, he says without looking up from his data pad.
You subtly move your hand out of view, “Yeah, I just wanted a break is all.”
Tech looks up at you, “You’re worse at lying than wrecker, are you aware of that?”
You sigh, hating the fact that he’s so good at reading you, “I was just looking for a med kit.”
“For your injured hand, I suppose?”
You whip your head to face him, “How did you know about that?”
He sets his data pad down, “I seem to know a lot of things, especially when they concern you.”
You let the barest hint of a smile grace your lips, “Yeah?”
Tech looks you in the eyes, “My head is often filled with war strategies, probabilities and facts about the galaxy that surrounds us, but you’ve made your way in there too, somehow.”
You fight any redness that wants to rise to your face, “Good.”
His tone becomes a little playful, “You do enjoy the thought of me being distracted by you during missions, don’t you?”
You shrug, “It’s not something I’m against.”
Techs face changes a little bit, seeming to snap out of a trance that you often put him in, “Enough stalling. Come sit. I will patch you up.”
“I’m fine, it’s not a big deal-“
“I do not remember any part of my statement being a question. Sit.”
You sigh, “Yeah, okay”, you sit next to him as he takes out the med kit.
Tech takes out a small vial of bacta spray, holds out his hand and does a little “give me your hand” motion.
You slowly put your shaky and bruised hand in his and tense slightly, which tech notices, “Why are you nervous?”
He starts to spray your hand as you scoff, “I am not nervous.”
Tech puts the spray down and examines your hand gently, like he’s afraid the slightest touch will cause you pain.
He brings your hand closer to his face, “Like I said earlier, lying is not a strength of yours.”
You can’t help the small laugh that bubbles out of you. You swear you can see tech slightly smile afterward.
You sigh, “The medics on kamino weren’t the nicest. I freaked hunter out once because he tried to reset my shoulder and I nearly had a panic attack.”
You avert your gaze from techs and become nervous. What if he thinks you’re being ridiculous or dramatic? What if he thinks it was weird to say that out loud?
He begins to wrap your hand with medical tape, “Kamino was… unpleasant, to say the least. However, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, unless you let crosshair wrap up an injury. Last time I let him do that it was horribly uneven.”
You relax almost immediately. Tech had a way of calming your nerves like nobody else. His logic and honesty was so comforting and reassuring to you. You’d be a mess without it.
“There you go”, he says as he finishes, still holding onto your hand.
Your voice comes out soft, “Thanks, tech.”
He looks at you, his brown eyes bringing nothing but warm feelings to you. After a few seconds he clears his throat and lets go of your hand.
Tech looks away, trying to busy himself with his data pad again, “Well, if you need anymore patching up, you know where to find me.”
“Everything okay?”
He glances at you for a second but goes back to his data pad, “Yes. I am fine.”
You bite your lip to hide your smile, “You’re just as bad at lying as wrecker”, you repeat his words back to him.
You see him blink at the ground, “What’re you thinking about?”
“How do you know that that is what I was doing?”
“I notice things about you too, tech.”
Before he can say anything, you speak up again, “That’s your thinking face. The one where you’re blinking or looking at the ground. And when you think something is funny, you put your hands on your hips.”
He seems to think for a few more seconds before he sighs, “Like I said before, you are very distracting. To be quite frank, your beauty is like none i’ve ever seen before.”
Before you can say anything back, wrecker appears from around a corner, “Am I really that bad of a liar?”
You and tech share a look before turning back to wrecker, “Yes, wrecker”, y’all say in unison.
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calliopesdiary · 20 days
Text
“you’re too sweet for me” part two
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read part 1 here!
wc: 693
summary; you partially own your mums coffee & flower shop, so it’s no secret that you’d have a little (big) work crush on a boy whom you only know from his signature on the receipts.
ships; poly!marauders x fem!barista!reader
contents; mild language, sirius is a flirt, slight gilmore girls reference
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*ring, ring.*
“hello?”
“hey, darling.”
oh gods… that familiar voice… he called you… didn’t he?
“o-oh, hi.”
“you sound surprised, was i not supposed to call the cute girl who works at my favorite coffee shop?”
fuck, here comes the blush.
“i-i just.. didn’t expect you to want too.”
“well, i did want too.”
you could almost hear his cocky grin.
“so, since we’re calling, i was just wondering if we could go out sometime? just casual, getting to know eachother?”
he sounded so confident.
“m-me? you want to go out with.. me?”
“you are the person i’m asking, love.”
“…”
“so.. is that a yes—“
“yes! yes! i mean— sure… that sounds…. fun?”
“great— oh! and i’m sure you won’t mind my boyfriends joining, hm?”
“boyfriends…? fuck! i knew he wasn’t single—“
“they’d like to get to know you as much as i would.”
“… they would?”
“mmmhm.”
“that’s fine.”
“perfect, i’ll pick you up from the shop at eight, will your mum mind?”
“i don’t think so— no.”
“perfect, see you then. love.”
“s-see you!”
“…mum!!! i’ve got a date with my favorite customer.”
you raced upstairs.
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shaking your nerves out was a bit more difficult than it seemed, you had dreamed of this moment ever since Sirius had merely stepped into your shop.
though you never expected to go on a date with him and his two boyfriends.
"what's the hand shaking for, sweetheart?" your mum lovingly placed her hands on your shoulders to try and ease any anxiety.
"mum... its not... just Sirius."
"Oh, is it those two other boys aswell?"
"...how do you know about Remus and James?"
"They come into the florist section of the shop every saturday to purchase flowers for Sirius.
"Oh."
"Sweetie, you do not need to be nervous. you look so beautiful."
"thanks, mum."
You smiled sweetly up to your mum, before you heard a knock on the door of your apartment.
"Go get em', sweetie."
you smiled back at her, as you turned the door knob anxiously.
"hi, Sirius.'
"Hi... y-y/n"
poor thing might've been just as nervous as you were.
"y-you look... very nice..."
he smiled.
"thank you."
"Remus and James are in the car, are you ready to go?"
you nodded lightly, and he led you to the car. you felt your stomach flutter as he opened the car door for you, motioning for you to get in.
you were sat next to Remus, he put his book down and greeted you politely.
"you look lovely, Y/N."
"thank you, Remus. so do you."
you could tell James was nervous, he smiled back to you and complimented your looks.
after a small debate on where to go and what to do, you ultimately decided on going to an old library (you loved reading, so it was up your alley)
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the date was so lovely, it almost felt like you guys had known eachother for years.
was it just your imagination? or did they really like you back? was it too good to be true? you couldn't decide, and you found yourself dreading the date ever ending.
but all things come to an end, but hopefully this was the start of something life changing.
you pulled into your apartments parking lot, and you were helped out of the car by James.
"it was lovely, tonight."
he smiled at your slightly flustered expression.
"i really enjoyed it..."
you met his gaze, and you yearned for more than just eye contact.
you stopped at your front door, he faced you with a slight blush on his face.
"..can i kiss you?"
"James-"
"please?"
"o-okay..."
he leaned down, pressing his plump lips against your soft ones. basking in the glory of finally kissing you.
his lips tasted like straight heaven, and his hand crept to the small of your back. leaning into your lips until you both broke off.
"t-thank you..."
he chuckled softly at your chosen words.
"have a goodnight, love."
he smiled, and left you at the front door.
suddenly, your mum swung the door open, causing you to jolt.
"mum!"
"you said thank you? sweetheart he kissed you, don't say thank you."
taglist~ @wednesdaynn @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo @here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can @glamourbabe17 @carolinexkpop @imdoingbetternow @wildwild64 @ellecdc @messylxve
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doromoni · 2 months
Text
Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1
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Act 2 . Part 1 : A Taste of their Downfall
Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader
Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance
Warnings : Morally Grey Characters
A/N : I need pics for future scenes so im faceclaiming Sofia Carson as Y/N ~
Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious
‼️Read Act 1 First
<Previous Next>
Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Y/N, where were you? “ You and Lewis were back in his driver's room inside Mercedes.
You were still in shock about how you just quit your position as Lewis’ Engineer. You cannot believe that they had tried to demote you after all the successes you’ve brought to this team.
“Y/N? Are you even listening? “ Lewis had once again tried to catch your attention.
“Toto demoted me from being your race engineer” you suddenly said, you waited for Lewis to react. But there was nothing. You tried to gauge his face. Suddenly, realization stuck right through you. He knew. Lewis knew.
Horror and absolute terror filled your system. You cannot believe what you were seeing.
“You knew? Lewis, please tell me you didn’t ” your voice broke , as you begged. You again tried to ask Lewis. Maybe you were mistaken, maybe you had it all wrong. You hoped … you prayed that Lewis had nothing to do with any of it.
Lewis was hesitant, he tried to hold your hand. You stepped away from his touch. He looked wounded from your action, but you didn’t care you were adamant to know the truth.
Yet , He was remained silent.
“ LEWIS FUCKING HAMILTON TELL ME THE TRUTH RIGHT NOW! TELL ME YOU HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!” You were ballistic as you demanded an explanation
“ YES, I KNEW! HAPPY?! Toto said that you were distracted and that you were becoming soft on Verstappen! We cannot lose this Championship! Y/N! I’m this close to being the best that this sport has ever seen! This close! You will not be the reason that I lost this! “
As you hear his words, life drains from your face. Lewis was in on it. The person that you love had been a part of your betrayal. You cannot believe it. The person that you gave everything to , the person you trusted the most had stabbed you in the back and dug your grave. And for what? For a stupid fucking title.
Angry cannot explain what you were feeling now. You were seething.
“ Oh, i’ll make sure that I will be the reason that you’ll never win that title. You can count on that , Hamilton”
No, you can’t believe it. You didn’t cry, because you could not comprehend what you had just discovered.
Villains are bred, not born. The fine line between a hero and a villain is slim — pull too hard and the line will snap. Blurring the line is far too easy. Everyone and everything has its limits, no matter how vast and far the maximum is, there will always be an endpoint.
The line has been crossed, You have had enough. Six years you’ve swallowed your pride and took beating after beating with a smile, as if it were normal — turning over the other cheek so they can hit it too. For six fucking years, you’ve suffered being belittled and taken for granted by everybody. The numbness you’ve forced yourself to feel to handle the pain had transformed into rage.
Fire, you felt the burning of fury manifesting in your body. Too much, it has just been too much. They had lit the match and threw it into the powder barrel.
The coldness of your apartment held no comparison to the burning you felt inside. The shock and anger electrocuting you still. You cannot comprehend the depth of monstrosity that loomed over the motorhome of Mercedes and the people in it. Till now ,they are continuously celebrating the win as if it is something festive and joyous. Mercedes celebrated the win in Silverstone as if a person was not lying in bed in immense pain due to their driver’s fault. Mercedes dared to set ablaze fireworks and pop bottles of liquor as if they were clean and innocent from all their dirty actions.
They were celebrating as if they did not just try to screw you and your career over. It was as if the years of maltreatment and abuse that they caused you were being swept under the rug. Ravenous, you felt completely ravenous.
They said that revenge is best served cold, but you digress. Oh no, revenge is best served sweltering, blazing and scorching— enough that they feel the heat of the fires of hell with no return. They did not hesitate to hurt you, why should you show mercy? An eye for an eye was not enough, you demanded a corpse.
Vicious, Cutthroat, and Merciless are words that they associated with your name behind your back. These words used to bring you insecurity, now you’ll wear it like a badge — proud and unashamed. They’ll get what they want. Call it petty and deceitful, but nothing good ever came from you swallowing your pride.
They deserve what’s coming to them.
Game. Fucking. On.
***
It was the morning after, and you were seated on your couch, your leg bouncing up and down. Lewis did not come back to your apartment. No, he had partied with the rest of them.
Leaving Mercedes was easy, but Lewis… Lewis Hamilton was another story.
It was different when you’ve spent 6 years of your life loving someone. Your love for Lewis was deeper than you could’ve understood. To you, he was the light that shined through the darkness. You imagined that you’d spend your lifetime with him. Creating a future for both of you. Lewis completed you.
But it seemed that you were alone in the journey that you painted. Because what you saw on that podium is a man not wanting to be tied down. You saw a man that wanted all the freedom and glory that this sport gave.
Maybe at first, He had wanted you, but along with the speed and fame that Formula 1 brought … he no longer needed Y/N L/N, the woman that he loved. Lewis Hamilton wanted Y/N L/N the engineer that gave him his championships.
It was hard to let go. But you knew that you didn’t deserve any of that. You're not someone who should be kept in the shadows. You deserve to be loved by someone who’ll proudly show the world that you’re theirs. You deserve someone who knows your worth apart from what you can give.
You looked at your apartment, letting yourself feel and reminisce the memories that you and Lewis made, for one last time.
One last time, you let yourself cry for everything that Lewis never gave, the empty promises and the heartaches and even the happy memories that you two shared…this was finally goodbye. Because, from now on you’re choosing yourself.
“ Goodbye, Lew”
And you were gone.
***
“Y/N, Baby? Why weren’t you at the party? And what’s Toto talking about you quitting?” Lewis came into your apartment, the headache pounding on his temple from the alcohol from the night before.
He rummaged through the fridge, looking for a sip of water. Lewis expected you to come up behind him and hug his waist, just like how you did every time. Yet, this time you weren’t here with the usual morning kiss and a coffee at hand.
“Babe? Are you still in bed?” Lewis trudged his way to your shared bedroom, only to find it empty.
“Y/N? Where are you? Look I’m sorry, alright!? Please talk to me.“
Lewis searched every part of your house, looking for a sign of your presence.
And then in the living room, on top of the coffee table, a letter you wrote was pressed under a ring — the promise ring that he gave to you on your anniversary.
With shaking hands, as panic started to envelop Lewis, he held up the letter and read.
My dearest, Lewis.
I never imagined myself in the position that I have to say goodbye to you. Despite my best efforts to mend what's broken, I can't shake the feeling that our relationship has run its course. The love that once bound us together now feels like a faint shadow of what it once was, and I can't bear to see us continue down this path.
I can’t forgive what you’ve done. No matter how much I love you I cannot bear to think of your betrayal. But also please know that I am sorry. I had led myself to believe that we wanted the same thing. I thought that we both wanted to build a future together. But now I see that I was wrong. And I don’t think it would be fair of me to force you to want the same. You deserve to follow the path that you choose. I’m sorry, Lew but I also want freedom. I want someone who would shout to the world that they love me. I’m sorry but I can no longer wait on your promise.
You can now run free, Champ. I’m letting you go. Enjoy the glory. Goodbye, Lewis.
- Y/N
Dread washed over him in an instant. Like freezing water was dumped over him. The nausea of his hangover is gone. Lewis felt his chest growing heavier by the second and his stomach had started twisting with fear a sudden pit growing. Tears started to blur his vision as he clutched the paper in his hands.
The memory of your fight replayed in his mind. How could he do that to you? You were the person who was with him through every challenge that life had thrown at him. You were the person who supported him when no one did.
And suddenly his phone vibrated. To Lewis’ surprise — a text from Nico Rosberg
I knew , she’d leave . Y/N deserves better.
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Lewis couldn’t believe what was in his hands. No, Lewis couldn’t accept that you were gone. Lewis couldn’t believe that you had left him.
“What have I done?”
***
“Welcome to Red Bull Racing , Y/N! It’s a pleasure to finally have you!”
“ The pleasure is all mine”
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aysegust · 1 month
Text
JUST A HEALER. - K.B
Pairings: (Kaz Brekker x Reader) A/N: Hey Everyone! I hope you all are fine and feel good. May goodness be with you… So this is a new fiction of mine. About Kaz Brekker… Well, I was so stressed about my studies so I wanted to write something to keep my mind occupied. English isn’t my native language, as reminding it again, I might have mistakes. If you saw it feel free to correct it with kindness of course! I hope you’ll like it. There will be a part two. Warnings: Kidnapping, Pekka Rollins, mention of Kirigan. It is mostly based on the first season of the series but I changed things. Word Count: 1.997
You can read the last part here: More Than A Healer. - K.B
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A soldier, a healer.
That was all you were to him. A soldier, a healer. Well, the story of you and his crossed in a different path. You escaped from the Little Palace and took a ticket from an unknown ship, with that you went overseas.
As the ship sailed to the shore of Ketterdam, the city where every young-blooded Ravkan wanted to see, you were finally there. Freshly dressed and eager to see a new world. Other than forced to work under king’s command. Well, the missing state you were in probably put a traitor stamp on your name but you didn’t care.
Your parents died, because of Ravka. Because of their policies about taking Grisha’s away from their parents. Your parents die because they never wanted you to be taken from them. They died, because you were a Grisha… You blamed yourself for it from such a long time. But in reality, the blame wasn’t on you, it was on them.
A week passed since you were in Ketterdam, hiding your powers and blending into public. Well, it was safe to say that you were expecting difficulties. You had nothing so it would obviously difficult.
However as the weeks passed, you were able to find a shelter to stay, foods to feed yourself and a job. Well, you were taking care of wounded people, they thought you were talented. Not a Grisha. They thought this woman, you, are just talented and hardworking about what you do. But inside of every touch of yours, you were slowly recovering them faster.
Of course, you bandaged them, cut them, stitch them, clean their wounds but without the people of Ketterdam’s knowledge, as every slight touch of your fingers did the magic.
However, as you were so good at what you do, people talked. Pekka Rollins, offered you a job which you declined smoothly a time. He was pissed but you told him you work openly. But you treated his wounds so that’s why you were still alive.
Even Pekka Rollins didn’t realize you were a Grisha but a certain man, who likes to stay in silence and sees everything in a different gaze, such as reading between the lines, he noticed it.
That night you were going to your home, you heard a sound. It terrified you, so you touched your gun. Then you understood the sound of the cane, was on purpose.
The alley was empty. It was just the two of you, you thought. “It is not a daily thing you see a Grisha in Barrel.” As hearing his words, you turned to him slowly.
“Who are you?” You said to him coldly. He looked at you ruthlessly. As you were looking at his eyes, it was harsh, you felt goosebumps. “The right question is… why a Grisha is doing in the Barrel, Miss L/N?”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “I don’t know who you are, but you surely are mad.” He smiled to that. But the smile didn’t match his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that.”
He stepped firmly into your way, you didn’t back away. You wouldn’t show any weakness to him. You were a soldier.
“There’s no need for fighting, I present you an offer.” You looked at him with curiosity after hearing his crooked voice. “I’m listening.” You said firmly.
“You can work for me, and I’ll keep your secret.” You looked at him bitterly. “I don’t work for anyone.” You looked at his eyes. “Believe me, Miss L/N, in the Barrel, a woman like you would be a great investment.” He stopped briefly. “I have been watching you, and it wasn’t hard for me to understand of your little powers.” He looked at you so smoothly.
“Bold of you to assume, that I’ll work under you.” You said it confidently. He looked at his gloves for a moment. “If they finds out you are a Grisha, you won’t last long.” You squinted your eyes. “Is that a threat?” You said.
“No, it is just a warning.” His glances wasn’t disturbing it was frightening. “I give you a day, you can find me in the Crow Club.” Then he disappeared into shadows without even waiting for you to say anything.
After that night, you thought many things. You didn’t know the man, so you pulled strings and searched his name. The Dirtyhands. Bastard of the Barrel. The owner of the Crow Club. Kaz Brekker.
Kaz Brekker.
The Dirtyhands.
He had people work under him. The Wraith, The Sharpshooter… The Dregs. The informations you learned about the infamous Kaz Brekker, led you to his Club.
As you stepped into the Club, it was lighting with warm but sharp colors. You heard every laughter on gambling tables. Some smiling like devilishly, some whine in losing.
You stepped surely to inside. As your gaze fell upon to the upstairs, your eyes met in a brief moment. From the moment you stepped inside to the Club, he knew you arrived.
He made a small gesture, the way his face turned slightly to side, it was a gesture for you to come closer.
You walked slowly into his way, as he lead you to his office. Your gaze wandered the room. The walls were covered in a thick layer, the furnitures are covered in black as the way he dressed. The room looked tidy but his desk was filled with full of papers which looked pure chaotic.
The light of the room was dim. It was weirdly calming but as his body turned to you, your gaze met his. He looked like a wall. No emotion, not even a slight expression.
As you looked at his face, two days ago, looking at him briefly on the streets was not enough for you to look deeply into his features.
Now that you see him, well, he looked beautiful. In a disturbing way, he was looking good. Except for the fact that, he knows your secret and he is threatening you. Also, adding the fact that he is the Dirtyhands. You heard rumors about him before.
“So, you heard about me.” As he broke the silence, you nodded. “The Dirtyhands.” You said with a straight impression. “I heard about you.”
He leaned back on the edge of the table. “Then you heard all the things they said about me.” He replied.
“Look, Mr. Brekker, I don’t work for people. I don’t want to make enemies.” He almost laughed at that. “No, Miss L/N, the clear thing you don’t understand is…” He paused briefly. “Eventually, when people find out who you are, you are not gonna survive a day in here.” He looked at you sharply. “I won’t expose you, but, imagine if Pekka Rollins finds out?”
As he said it, you turned your gaze into one of painting on the wall. “Okay..” It was reasonable. You turned your gaze back to his. “I’ll work for you but under one condition.” You said. “I want a good check.” He looked at you.
“Then we have an agreement.”
-
Yeah, after that day a year passed as you worked under the Dirtyhands. Well, he didn’t trust you a bit and you weren’t trusting him too but you just had to trust the promise he made.
You were clearly a good asset to him. You treated Inej and Jesper’s wounds. Other members of his crew too. Also you were a great soldier so when a mission arrives, after some time of him trusting you about coming to his thefts, you were quick, strong and loyal.
He even gave you a new identity. Helped you to have a new identity in Ketterdam. So, you wouldn’t suspected to be a Grisha, a Ravkan.
But Pekka Rollins wasn’t happy about the idea of you working under the Bastard of the Barrel, which caused you some headaches. However, Kaz was cautious about everything.
A soldier, a healer.
You were all that to him. Well, you got along with Inej and Jesper. They had unique characteristics. You could feel the joy around Jesper while feeling safe around Inej. She was quiet but she made you feel comfortable.
You can’t say much things about Kaz. He was complicated. Never trusting you much, always prepared for everything and too cautious, too careful. As you observed him through the months, you saw how he deprived himself from touching. You saw the sour face of his after someone in the crowd bumped him with no intention. They thought it was just Kaz hated people. But to you, the way he looked with every little touch the furrowing brows of his tells a different tale.
Which you were curious about it. However, you never had the intentions of learning it. So you slipped the thought away and got along with your life.
You were walking around the corners of the Barrel, you wanted to be alone, as you blended in with the others, the crowds noise was silencing your thoughts. Well, under Kaz’s command, it wasn’t very easy but you felt safe and powerful. The threats of Rollins wasn’t new, but it didn’t scare you that much. Since you were a traitor in Ravka. You flied away from there and left the Army.
Of course, over the time passed Kaz learned why you were in Ketterdam as you told him the story of your life. You thought he would judge you but he was no better man. So he just didn’t mind it.
You earned his respect with how much you cared for his crows. How you treated their wounds after a fight very gently and how you were loyal to him and his team. It didn’t slip from his gazes.
As you turned around the corner, you felt a pair of hands grabbing your mouth harshly. You panicked just for a second. Then you tried to fight back to the man who held you tightly. You took a knife out of your pocket and hit him on his belly, as he whined in pain, you freed yourself from his prying hands. As you turned to look at the man, you heard a strong accent.
“I can say, I was very disappointed to hear you began to work under- Mr. Brekker, aye?” As you heard his voice, you turned to the owner of the voice. Pekka Rollins.
“What do you want?” You said sternly. He approached to you. “It is such a clever move, I say,” He looked terrific. As meeting his gaze, Pekka’s gaze didn’t seem to move away from you. “Hiring a healer? A Grisha.” He smiled. “A traitor…” You look at him disgustingly.
“Well, I don’t know what you are talking about.” You said it dumbfounded. He looked at you with range. “What should I do to you, Dame Blanche, huh? Or should I say… Miss L/N?”
You looked at him with anger. “I don’t care what you’ll do. I won’t back away from a fight.” You said it confidently. He looked at you with smug smile. “Oh, I won’t do you harm, The Black General, I think he is going to do.” You looked at him disbelief. As two of his guy grabbed your shoulders, you fought to get away from their grip but you couldn’t succeed.
Pekka approached to you and squeezed your cheeks in a hurtful manner. “After what would done to you, you are gonna regret to work under that bastard, lass.”
The next minute, you felt pain on your back as slowly, your vision blurred and your eyes went black.
As couple of hours passed and you opened your eyes, the sharp pain on your head was making you feel uncomfortable. You tried to open your eyes but your eyelids were too heavy and you feared.
What if Kaz couldn’t find you?
What if Kaz wouldn’t find you?
What if he doesn’t care about your sudden disappearance?
What if he,
if he thinks you betrayed him too?
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ficmashup · 3 months
Text
Gardening
Summary: Ghost is moving into a new apartment and you just so happen to be the building's owner.
A/N: First dip into writing second person (I think that's the right term?) and I'm not sure if I don't like it or if it was just difficult for me. People who've read my Price fic in first person, please weigh in here. I need to know if this sounds weird or if it's just me. I might rewrite the whole thing in first person and see which feels better.
Warnings: Not much here...overworking? Slight fainting. Not edited.
Word Count: 3k+
Masterlist
The first time he sees you, your hands are elbow-deep in dirt and there’s more smeared over your face. It’s late afternoon and he’s heaving a duffel over his shoulder to head into his new apartment. It’s been a long time since he spent long in an apartment at all and by the time he came back to his old one, the building was being foreclosed. He’d never been one to couch surf and he wasn’t about to start now. Certainly not for a month. Jump to seeing you covered in dirt in front of his new apartment building.
He hesitates on the steps, watching you a moment longer while you grumble to yourself. You’re on your knees digging through a flowerbed as if digging for diamonds. “You alright?” He surprises himself by asking and almost keeps walking with the expectation that you won’t even answer, but you turn your face up to him in an instant. Your arm raises to block out the sun and you don’t even flinch as dirt rains down on you.
“Fine, thanks. Just a few roots being stubborn.” You give him a warm, welcoming smile that keeps him still a few moments longer. Long enough for you to scan the duffel on his back and the few boxes set on the ground by his truck. “Moving in?” He hesitates a moment before answering. He’s not in the habit of giving away information freely, but the conclusion is obvious enough. He nods once.
“Then you’re Simon Riley.” You pull your hands from the dirt as if they’re the ones who have taken root and wipe them off on your jeans while getting onto your feet. Trepidation begins creeping into his chest and he grips the strap of his bag over his shoulder a little tighter. “I’m the building’s owner. Nice to meet you in person.” You offer your dirt-smudged hand as you give him your name and he laxes slightly. He takes your hand, seeing approval flash through your eyes. He wonders briefly if offering your dirty hand was a test that he just passed.
“I’ll walk you to your place and make sure you have your keys. Need help carrying anything?” You offer and it’s clear you mean it.
“I’m fine, thank you.” He replies evenly and you nod before leading the way and expecting him to follow.
“I run a tight ship. Hope you read the rules about staying here because if you break any, I’ll throw you out on your ass.” You move around the entrance easily, clearly knowing where everything is without having to look. A little glance over your shoulder is all you give him to make sure he’s listening and you catch the slight upward tilt of his lips.
“Yes, ma’am. Read over things twice.” He answers honestly and you hum with approval before guiding him up the stairs. Something about the way you hold yourself, the easy confidence, the way you say orders and expect them to be followed, reminds him of Price and puts him a little more at ease.
“You’re on the edge of the building, so only one neighbor on the north side and another across the hall. Delaney is quiet and keeps to herself more often than not, but I let her play music on the roof with friends on Saturdays.” Your voice fills the halls and he notes that the place is very well-kept and clean. Even the windows are clear and gleaming. You go on, “Mr. Cruz across the hall can be a bit miserly, but other than mumbling about the newspaper and the state of the world, he’s harmless. His wife, on the other hand, is a shameless gossip. So I hope you’re not too bothered if you come home and see her peeking at you from her door.”
Simon hums a small laugh. “Don’t mind it. I’m not that interesting.”
“Pity. She’s been dying for a salacious neighbor since Beck moved out because her husband caught her with the nanny.” You quip instantly and amusement flits through Simon as you finally come to a stop in front of a dark green door. It’s quick work to unlock it and you push the door open, but don’t step inside. He likes that. It’s as if the second he signed the lease, this became his space and you won’t enter it until invited. “If you’d like to do me a favor and need some furniture, I have some in the basement from past tenants that I’d be glad to be rid of. Tell me if you’d like to look and I’ll take you. You have my number if you need anything else, but I’m usually around anyway.”
He enters the apartment and looks around at the empty space with a small sigh. It’s a good space with plenty of room and a view of the street below, but being in a new place feels like starting over. It’s a discomforting feeling given that nothing in his life has actually changed except for his address. But he turns towards you all the same and gives you another nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
You nod back and spare another moment to look him over. He’s not the first stray soldier that’s wandered into your building, but each one has been different. This one…this one might take quite a bit of coaxing. You give him another smile and see his body shift towards it just like he did the last time, as if your smile is sunlight he’s basking in. “Welcome home.”
*     *     *
The next time he sees you, you’re crouched on the stairs in front of a kid no more than eight-years-old. “It…hurts…” The little boy says between sobs with red smeared over his right knee. Probably from a nasty fall. Simon pauses on the next flight of stairs, looking down at you through the railing.
“Aw, yeah, I know it does. You’re being brave for me though.” Your voice is soft and gentle as you clean the blood away. “Bet that wimp Eric would be wailing this whole time, huh? Remember when he stubbed his toe and screamed for a minute straight?” There’s a little giggle and his heart squeezes at the sound.
The kid sniffles. “Yeah, I remember. He fell on the ground like he broke it or something.”
“That’s right.” You approve, smiling at him and reaching to the side where a first aid kit sits. “But I saw you play baseball and you didn’t even flinch when that pitcher hit you with the ball.”
“Yeah, that’s true. And that hurt!” The kid leans back a bit, relaxing as you distract him and I idly think about how many medics I’ve seen use the same tactic on wounded soldiers.
You finish cleaning up his knee and press a large band-aid to the ripped skin. “But you were so tough then and you were tough now. All done.” You muss his hair a bit and he giggles, slapping your hand away. “Now, what are we not going to do?”
The kid’s head droops. “Sprint up the stairs.”
“Smart kid. Now, wear that scrape with honor.” You tilt his chin up and he grins, sniffling again before leaning forward and giving you a hug.
“Thanks.” He squeezes tight before getting up and heading down the stairs at a slightly slower pace than running. A wait a moment as you pack up the things from your kit before heading down. Your head lifts and you smile at me, the same as the other day, and it strikes me just like it did then.
I clear my throat and tilt my head to where the kid went. “You seem to know everyone in this place.”
You hum and stand with the first aid kit in hand. “It’s my job to know everything that happens in this building.”
 He quirks a brow at you. “That’s not a position taken by most owners.”
“You should have easily learned by now that I’m not like most owners.” You quip instantly and are rewarded with a little upward twitch of his mouth.
“I was hoping you might have time to show me some of the furniture you mentioned?” He asks, unassuming and polite despite his size and clear musculature. It makes you like him a little more.
You nod and take a breath in the face of another task. “Sure. Let’s go.” You turn on your heel and start moving, Simon trailing behind with surprisingly soft footfalls. You jingle slightly with each step from the keys on your hip and he can’t help but think of a cat with a bell.
The basement is dark until you pull a heavy switch and illuminate a surprisingly large space littered with furniture. “Pick whatever you like and I’ll help you carry it up.”
“You ever stop working?” He asks and you can hear the amusement in his voice. You shrug a shoulder and lean against the wall beside the stairs as he slowly walks through the room.
“There’s always something to be done and no one else is going to do it.”
“You could hire people.”
You immediately roll your eyes. “Then I’d have to fix whatever they screw up. Better to do it myself and get it right the first time.” He exhales softly and you swear that it’s almost a soft laugh.
“You remind me of someone.” He says and pauses next to a little kitchen table with two chairs in pretty good condition.
Your head tilts and you give him a little smile as he glances over. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
This time, you get an actual chuckle. “From me, it’s a compliment.”
“Hm. Then thank you.” You’re not sure you want to know why it would be an insult coming from someone else. He knocks on the table and the wood makes a dull, solid clunk noise. He nods and apparently that means it’s passed inspection. He lifts it up into his arms with a grunt and surprise widens your eyes as he carries it towards the stairs. You clear the way, grabbing the two chairs and staring at him as he bypasses the elevator in favor of more stairs without making a sound. It’s not exactly professional the way your eyes linger on his muscular arms, the shifting of his back under his t-shirt, and especially not how his thighs fit his jeans oh-so-well.
He grunts again as he sets the table down in his apartment and you sidle in to set the chairs on either side. There’s almost nothing else in the apartment. There are a few blankets and books in the bedroom along with a few cushions on the floor of the living room facing a tv. That’s it. He certainly isn’t one to overdecorate. “Anything else?” You offer with a hand on you hip.
He nods once. “Mind another trip?”
You smile and start walking to the door. “I’d be glad to empty out my entire basement if you like. Seems like you need it anyway.” The corner of his mouth lifts.
“I suppose that’s true. I appreciate the help.” He says and his voice is deep, but gentle. You only grow more curious about him and during the few more trips up and down the stairs, you realize that this guy might need a bit more than a little help with living.
*     *     *
It starts slow.
A few neighbors start bringing him some food throughout the week. Leftovers, baked goods, all under the guise of welcoming him to the building. Then there’s a small flyer set outside his door for an estate sale nearby where he finds a few more things to make his apartment less sparse. It’s a tad overbearing, but in an amusing way and he finds he doesn’t mind. Something about being aggressively looked after reminds him of Soap’s family and any thought of the Scot is a welcome one. He has little doubt that the interference is due to your instruction. You run this building better than most people in charge of the military.
His favorite spot in the apartment becomes the little window seat in the living room. It has a good view of the street and without fail, he gets a glimpse of you working in the flowerbeds in the front of the building. On the nicer days, he’ll even crack the window to hear you cussing at your rosebushes. But you’re a little quiet one day, moving slow, still working amongst the thorns in jean shorts and a tank-top dark with sweat. When you stand and wobble in place, he puts down the book he was pretending to read.
You heave a breath and wipe sweat off your brow before grabbing onto the railing leading into the building. Ugh, it’s hot. The sun is beating down like a physical weight and your sunhat is currently somewhere in Delaney’s apartment after her girlfriend borrowed it. Best to just bear the expense and get another one. “You run yourself ragged.” That deep voice disturbs your thoughts and your head lifts to see Simon standing there with a water bottle held out to you.
A soft laugh leaves your lips as you gratefully accept the water and settle on the steps. “Too much to do to stop. Thank you for this.” The bottle is blissfully cold as you press it to your neck and take a deep breath of relief.
Simon moves across from you and leans on the railing, looking you over. Something you’ve noticed is how careful he is to give you space. He never comes too close. “I’ve seen you running around the building at least three times today. Once unclogging the garbage chute, the second time greasing the hinges of a door down the hall, and the third—” He gestures to rosebushes you were just digging in.
You finish drinking half the water and raise a brow at him with a teasing glint in your eye. “Keeping track of me?”
His lips part, but he’s interrupted before he can say a word. “Sweetie, my air conditioner is on the fritz again.” An older woman peeks out of the front door and Simon recognizes Mrs. Cruz from across the hall. She scrutinizes him through her big glasses before blinking innocently back at you.
You sigh, but nod. “Alright, Mrs. Cruz. I’ll be there right away.” She shuffles back into the building while you heave yourself up onto your feet and your vision immediately goes black. It almost feels like you’re outside your body as you feel it sway backward before a large hand slides onto your lower back and another grips your arm. Your hand tightens on the railing as your eyes snap open, the world swimming in front of you.
“Steady, now.” A pair of concerned eyes are the first thing you see as your vision clears. “Let’s get you inside.” He moves closer and begins to stoop, but you grab his shirt in a fist.
“You are not picking me up.” You grind out, every word a command. Not in front of your building, not by a tenant, not with Mrs. Cruz waiting inside who would assuredly spread every type of rumor she could about the scene. “Just…walk inside with me.” He hesitates a beat before straightening and letting you use his arm and the railing to get back into the building. You shoot a smile towards Mrs. Cruz waiting exactly where you expected her. “I need my tools, but I’ll be along in just a minute.”
Her eyes squint, but she nods a moment later before vanishing into the elevator. “Slowly and steadily, then.” Simon murmurs with his hands gentle and sure as he moves you towards your office in the back. You hold your tongue despite the desire to insist that you do not need help because you very clearly do. Still, you can’t hold back your heavy sigh as you both slowly walk back and he helps you settle into your office chair.
“Thank you.” You murmur, pride a little wounded but ultimately grateful you didn’t have to crawl in here. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Then I’ll head up to help Mrs. Cruz.” Your head shakes as you make yourself drink the rest of your water while taking some steadying breaths.
“Unfortunate we’re not closer to my apartment. I’d give you something one of my neighbors gifted me earlier this week.” Simon comments with amusement lacing his tone. Maybe you weren’t as subtle about filling his pantry as you thought you were.
“I ate today. Just pushed a little too hard in the heat. That’s all.”
“Mm.” He hums, watching you from the doorway with the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “A habit of yours?”
You can’t resist returning his near smile. “Practically my occupation.”
He huffs a small laugh before clearing his throat as if trying to hide it. The fact makes you smile a little wider. “I’ll get you another water, then walk with you up the stairs.”
“Oh, there’s really no need—” But he’s already walked out. You sigh again, relaxing back into the chair and closing your eyes for a few moments. Time passes, a bit too long than it should have taken, but when you open your eyes there’s another water in front of you and no Simon. You feel a bit better and rise from your seat with a groan, grabbing your toolkit and heading up to Mrs. Cruz. But it’s an utter surprise when you get to her apartment to find the usual whir of her air conditioning uninterrupted.
“That handsome man across the hall had it fixed in a few minutes. Didn’t complain or say much other than asking what the problem was.” Mrs. Cruz reports with rare approval in her voice. Mr. Cruz grumbles quietly from his usual seat in his favorite armchair. You sigh and glance out the door towards Simon’s apartment with a hand on your hip and a half-smile. Seems you’re not the only one keen to help. Whether it’s asked for or not.
(Lmk if you want to be tagged in future installments of this!)
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 months
Note
Nini!!! I have an idea, if ur still busy making that fic then take ur time with this ask. Soooo this might be a lil bit inappropriate butttt how abt cockwarming dazai while he tries to work?? Again if ur still busy with that fic u mentioned on ur last post then don’t mind me! (=^ ◡ ^=)
Sorry if I bothered u!!! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
- 🎀
Dw, you aren’t bothering me, you’d never bother me with your lovely asks ☺️ (sorry that I took so long, I literally have to force myself to feed ya’ll) and it’s a little short, sorry for that
Dom!reader x sub!dazai
Warning: cockwarming, strap or dick - you can interpret it however you want, reader is gender neutral
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He sighed when he glanced over the mountains of paperwork on his desk, you could even say he whined. Slumping down and pouting, throwing the led in his hand onto the table. “What’s with all this work?” The boy complained, before he leaned back against his seat, cuddling up against you. “Do we really have to wait until I’m finished?”
Today was like any other day, with dazai refusing to do any of his assignments. Mori wanted you to do something about it, and as much as you’d like to protest, he was your boss after all. Which is why you decided to make it fun for you as well. That led to your current situation, with dazai sitting in your lap and diligently working, all while your dick was buried deep inside him.
Your hands fit perfectly on his slim waist, holding him and making sure that he stays still. The feeling of his smooth skin was nice to the touch, and you rested your head on his shoulder. Sometimes when you exhaled, the hot air would tickled his ears. If you weren’t easing him, then he doesn’t know what it was. How can you expect him to do all of this while you are touching him like you are about to bend him over? Not that he minds, he desperately wants you to do so. How long has he waited for any action to happen? Maybe hours now.
He felt full and filled, it was a very erotic experience. Every once in a while his insides would clench around you, and he’d squeeze his thighs together. This was worse than any torture methods he learned, much worse. The words on the paper in front of him started to blur, it was like he forgot how to read. Yet again he slumped back against you, biting his bottom lip at the small yet delicious friction that gave him. “Hmm..! God, y/n, can’t you just fuck me?”
Dazai really couldn’t wait any longer. He already worked for more than an hour, can’t you do him a small favour? Subconsciously, or maybe he knew what he was doing, he rocked his hips. The boy moved so slow, like a ship sailing on a calm ocean, he thought you wouldn’t notice. In contrary you did saw it, and grabbed his chin to make him face you, then you whispered your answer, “no.”
Without giving him any reasoning, only a cold and commanding refusal. For some reasons it made him even more wet, he felt his body shake and his dick twitch at your voice. His precum was dripping down his shaft and coating his soft thighs, you’d even dare say he looked like a girl with all those fluids he let out. “If you want to get fucked so bad, finish your work sooner.” You suggested, though he knew you weren’t giving him an inch. It was an order and you weren’t going to show him mercy. Fine, guess he will have to use his trump card.
Suddenly, he raised his shoulders, they were now reaching his ears. Then he slowly started to sob, small delicate tears rolled down his rosy cheeks. Afterwards he did a dramatic turn, staring back at you with the most pitiful and vulnerable expression he could muster. The way desire and need blended perfectly in his eyes was seductive, though the pose he did was the one of an innocent maiden. Some strands of his bangs stuck to his forehead, and his lips were slightly parted. In that moment, he looked straight out of a painting, like an angel that descended upon the moral realm.
“Please..” Dazai began his act, mumbling in a meek tone, as if he was embarrassed of himself. “Fuck me.. I want it so bad.” The way he stressed the last two words was the peak of acting, he could win an Oscar with that one. It took you every resolve and self control you had to not throw him onto the table and fuck him. If you were to wait any longer, it was going to be a torture for you too. More tears flowed down his pretty face, those water droplets were like diamond shining in the sun light, emphasising his helplessness even more.
That man knew what he was doing and did it with passion, if he wants something he will get it, that’s what his body language told you. Which is why you especially want to go against it. “No is no, osamu, if you don’t finish this until dawn I’ll just leave and go drinking with chuuya.” You warned him, but it was more like a threat. He gasped a little, now crying a little louder than before. “Oh.. how cruel of you..! Can chuuya give you the things I can offer?” There was no answer to that question, you didn’t want to because you knew he could use it against you. Instead you gave him a little trust, enough to make his back arch. “AhHHh~ m-mhm..” the male moaned out, he did not hold back at all.
“go back to work.” You chuckled as you said, resting your chin on his shoulder again. “Hm.. mean..” and now he was pouting again, oh well, let’s see how long he can still play this game until he breaks. You weren’t going to be the first one to crumble. All you had to do was lay back and watch the play unfold. “Do as you wish, dazai, you have time until dawn.”
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project-sekai-facts · 5 months
Note
How are we feeling about ensekai’s emu3 translation!!! (I’m mad)
(if you remember the 3 whole posts i made when asahi got de-gayed on EN you'll know i am mad too and that this is probably going to get long)
i don't like to be too cynical but it was so obvious that they were going to change that line, i had a feeling since the event first released on JP and after the incident with Asahi where I went through and tracked down multiple other examples of EN removing queer subtext it became clear to me that in no way shape or form was "emu-chan really loves nene-chan" making it to EN without getting changed. what i didn't expect was them changing Nene's line after Luka's comment, which actually makes this whole situation far worse than many of their other instances of toning down queer subtext.
for anyone who isn't aware of what happened, in chapter 5 of the current Emu event, there's a scene where Nene, Rui and the Virtual Singers are talking about what would cheer Emu up. The vsingers all talk about how much Emu loves spending time with Nene, leading to the following exchange
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If you look for them, any fan TL of this scene will be something similar to this:
Luka: ...Fufu. Emu-chan really loves Nene-chan, doesn't she? Nene: Th-that's nothing special...
EN's official translation is this:
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So what's the issue? I'll start with Luka's part. In the original text, she uses the word daisuki, which can mean to "like a lot" or "love". It's a word you will see frequently in the idol/idol-adjacent genre of games, due to its ambiguity in that it can be read as either platonic or romantic when used towards a person, and often will be used in ambiguous situations so that it's harder to confirm the writers' intentions either way. so here, fans of the emu/nene ship could view the fact that emu loves spending her time with nene as more on the romantic side, but people who don't like the ship could view it as platonic and move on.
while they didn't translate daisuki directly, Luka's line still works, and still contains the ambiguity that works as ship tease in the original text. it's a perfectly fine localisation that still conveys the original intent. despite that, there is something to be said about EN's consistent refusal to translate daisuki as love in most instances when it's not used on An/Kohane (but then again, EN has literally teased An/Kohane on their twitter account so is it all that surprising?).
Here's some examples:
Aibou no koto ga daisuki de / he loves his partner -> he cares about his partner very much (The Power of Unity chapter 7 when Kaito is comparing Arata to Akito and Toya)
HARUKA-CHAN, DAISUKI DAYOOOO!!! / HARUKA-CHAN, I LOOOOOVEEE YOU!!! -> You're the best!!! (Dear Me, As I Was Back Then chapter 4 when minori is at an ASRUN concert. this one isn't actually that great of a localisation)
Honachan no koto daisuki dakara. Kore de iinda yo. / I love Honachan, so this is fine. -> I want what's best for her. And this is it. (Leo/need main story chapter 14 after Saki tells Honami she won't bother her anymore)
Minna daisuki de - taisetsuna tomodachi na no / I love them all - they're my dearest friends -> They're all amazing, and very dear to me. (Leo/need main story chapter 17. this isn't good either)
What's particularly amusing about that last one is that there's a second official translation for it that I assume was done by JP staff (since EN never promoted doing the Journey to Bloom subs like they did back when they provided subs for Petit SEKAI) that actually keeps the word daisuki as love.
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Yeah. I love all my friends - and they mean the world to me.
It's a better localisation than the official EN team one.
Questionable localisation choices aside, Luka's line is fine and is actually in line with the original. The issue with this localisation very much lies with Nene's part, because that is an entirely new line.
In the original text, Nene's "that's just normal" or "that's nothing special" or however you choose to TL it, is meant to be her questioning Luka's statement, since all the things that the other vsingers said that Emu liked were pretty normal things like going shopping and playing video games with nene. To Nene, these things are normal activities for them to do together, so she gets embarrassed by the fact that Luka concludes from that information that Emu loves Nene. When I dissect it like that I think you can really tell what the writers were going for here lol.
"That's just us being friends" does still convey the idea that Nene thinks these activities aren't anything out of the ordinary and she isn't sure why the vsingers are picking these out as some of Emu's favorite things to do, but it's very different from the original line. "But those are just normal things we do together" is something I just came up with on the spot, but it's a lot closer to the original text and still conveys the same meaning. The fact they changed the line to "that's just us being friends" is, honestly, not even subtle that they're covering up queer subtext. The original scene was very clearly written in as ship tease, and EN mentioning "friends" for no reason, especially since the word nor anything close to it was not used in the original, is instantly a red flag because it's like the go-to for queerbaiting and censorship. This was intentional. There was no need for them to specify that the relationship is platonic, Luka's part is ambiguous for a reason so that fans can view it how they like.
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Just to top all this off, here's Rin's original line just before that Luka+Nene interaction:
Oh, and! And! She said that playing games with Nene-chan is also super fun!
And here's Rin's line from the official EN translation:
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That's not the same thing, but even more weirdly, the incorrect part (super fun->really loves) is a correct translation for the part changed in Luka's line. So, they can do it, they are willing to say "really loves", just not in the right places. Maybe because Rin's part is less personal than Luka's part? It's strange actually, this isn't the first time they've done this either. Off the top of my head I can think of an example from Shiho's Varied Kindness 2* story where they translated the word "suki" as really loves, despite that being much stronger than the original word used (and the fact that daisuki is used a lot in the Leo/need stories and it's incredibly rare if not entirely unknown for them to translate it correctly).
It's not subtle that they're trying to remove implications of the characters possibly being queer, they did it in curtain call and they did it in walk on and on, and multiple times before then too. And considering some of the content in this year's events and the amount of times they say daisuki alone, it's gonna keep happening. honestly i hate the fact that i keep trying to justify the translations in these posts. these translations are intentional. what happened in the curtain call translation back in october says enough. when a character who uses explicitly romantic language towards another guy passes as a straight character in the translation you know they're doing it on purpose.
oh and once again, it's only the EN server that has this issue. The scene in question was translated almost word-for-word on the TW and KR servers.
read fan translations. they're better than what EN gives us and people put a lot of effort into them.
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dreamingundone · 11 months
Text
When The Morning Comes
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Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OFC (could be read as reader-insert, no use of Y/N) Summary: Jake doesn’t do serious. He was really upfront and honest about that. So why is he he one getting really tired of saying goodbye every morning? Rating: PG-13 for swears. Words: 3K+ Author’s Note: Here I am again writing fic in the year 2023 because I haven’t stopped thinking about Jake Seresin since last summer. This is slightly Band of Brothers adjacent because I’m incapable of putting away that particular hyper-fixation but you don’t need to know anything about it to understand this. Disclaimer: I don’t own the character Jake or Top Gun: Maverick. Please don’t re-post or translate my work without my permission. There's probably some inaccuracies here though I did my best to Google a few things, but even so, please be nice.
He watches her as she works out of the corner of his eye. He tells himself that he's not seeking her out every time he wanders the corridors at the hangar, but it just happens.
She's impossible to ignore.
There's a sinking feeling in his gut as she very much doesn't make eye contact with him, and in fact, she brushes by him as she leaves the room without so much as a glance.
"All set?" He asks Rooster gruffly, who arches an eyebrow.
"Didn't think you cared so much, Hangman." He gets up from the exam table, hands brushing over the thin line of stitches near his eyebrow.
Jake rolls his eyes.
"Oh!" Rooster says suddenly, eyes lighting up. "It's not me you're here for--"
"Shut up."
Bradshaw's not lying though, which makes Jake grit his teeth even harder.
"Secret's safe with me." He says with a wink, leaving Jake standing in Sick Bay by himself, questioning basically every life decision he's made to get to this point.
.
Six months earlier
"Listen up!" Maverick calls over the din, and when he can't get anyone's attention except for Dagger Squad, Admiral Bates does the job with a sharp whistle.
The hangar goes quiet, and they sit quietly as they listen to the mission briefing. Three months of training, and then they'll be shipped out to God knows where for God knows how long.
While he's pretty used to this particular way of life by now, he sees some of the other squads he doesn't know sharing nervous looks.
There's a group standing closer to the door that he's never had the pleasure to interact with - the medical staff from Sick Bay. The doctors look bored, but there's a new medic who's caught his eye from the minute he walked into the room.
She's taking notes or something, and Jake smirks as she looks up, meeting his eyes briefly. She rolls her eyes and looks back to her notebook, which only makes him smile wider.
He introduces himself the first time he gets a chance, later at the Hard Deck.
"I'm Jake," he says, holding out a hand.
"Good for you." She says, not looking up from her phone.
"Waiting on someone?"
"Someone else, definitely."
There's something about the way she says it - there's no heat in her words really, even though he knows she's trying to put him off. Look -- everyone thinks Jake is an asshole, and he knows he can be sometimes, but he doesn't want to stick around where he's clearly not wanted, even if all he wants to do is sit here with her and learn everything there is to know about her.
"Enjoy your drink," he says, and leaves her there looking a little surprised, if the crease between her brows is any indication.
.
It's a few days later when he has an excuse to see her again, though not under the circumstances he would have wished.
He's being semi-held up between Javy and Rooster, and he's scowling. "I'm fine," he grumbles.
"Sure, tell that to the control panel you smashed your head off of." Javy says, and Jake would roll his eyes, it's just that he can't really see straight, so he thinks he'd just pass out.
Okay, so he had to emergency land. At least he didn't have to eject.
"Put him here." He hears her voice, kind but authoritative. "Lieutenant Seresin, I thought I told you the other night I wasn't interested."
Javy snorts, and Rooster bites back a grin.
"Desperate times calls for desperate measures." Jake says, groaning as he lies back on the exam table.
Then she's there, looming over him, and the irony isn't lost on him that this is the first time she's looking him directly in the eye. Well, her and her flashlight, anyway.
"Pupils a bit larger than I'd like." She mutters. He finds himself really unable to do anything other than watch her as his vision wavers. "Concussion, obviously." She says. "Is the light bothering you?"
"A little." He answers.
She hums in sympathy. "You need stitches. Give me a minute." She says, and then her warmth is gone, and the bright light overhead is all he can see, making him close his eyes.
He sighs. This really isn't the impression he wanted to make.
Dimly, he registers Javy and Rooster leaving the room, saying they needed to go tell the rest of the Daggers how he was doing. He's sure Phoenix and Bob are pacing somewhere. Mav, too.
"Stupid." He mutters.
"What?" She asks, sounding offended.
"Nothing. Not you." He says, eyes opening as she leans over him again, hissing when she wipes an antiseptic over his forehead. "A little warning would have been nice."
"Don't be a baby." She chides, face full of determination. "Stay still."
He lets her work for a few minutes before he tries again. "I meant that I felt stupid for this."
She meets his eyes quickly. "Sounded like you did what you had to do so you didn't kill yourself."
"You were listening?" He asks, surprised. He feels dumber that he didn't realize that. Of course the medics were on standby.
"It's my job." She says. She pauses for a minute, glancing at her wrist. Her wristwatch is turned the wrong way round, so the face of it is on the inside. It's very military, and it makes him smile. It's how he can spot another Navy guy a mile away.
Hers is different than his, though, the face worn and scratched.
"Is that thing even ticking?" He asks as she gets back to work.
Her tongue is between her teeth as she completes the next few stiches, the sight making him a little distracted.
"It was my great-grandfather's."
He feels like he's bothering her, so he doesn't ask any more questions, but she surprises him by continuing.
"He's the reason I wanted to get into medicine. He was an Army medic."
"And that was his service watch?"
"Made it through the drop to Normandy and back."
Jake's eyebrows rise. "A paratrooper."
She nods. "He died before I was old enough to figure out what I wanted to do, but this watch has kept on ticking. Feels like I've got him over my shoulder advising me on what to do."
"That's really nice." Jake says honestly, and again he catches a surprised look on her face.
"I'm sorry," she says, maybe seeing the way his features droop. "You can sit up," she says off-hand before continuing. "I wasn't really fair to you. I've just-- to be honest, I've heard some things. Made me think..."
Jake nods. He knows what everyone says. And to be fair, he's never given anyone other than his friends any reason to doubt the rumors about him. What's the point? He'd rather let everyone on North Island think what they want than spending time fighting his reputation. It's not worth it, especially when he leaves often for months at a time.
"Anyway. That wasn't fair. I'm sorry."
He shakes his head, pasting on a smile he doesn't really feel. "No harm done. I don't really... I don't really do serious. So the rumors aren't far off." He doesn't know why he says it. It's the truth - he's scared of getting attached. He's no good at being someone's boyfriend and he knows it. But still -- it feels weird to say it out loud to her.
"Well. Okay then, Lieutenant. You're going to be grounded for awhile, unfortunately. Come back next week and we'll see how you're doing."
.
Over the next few weeks, they do more mission prep, which means the medical team and the Daggers are together more often than not. They'll all be together as a wing on the carrier, and it's important that everyone knows all the details of every minute of the mission.
They have enough downtime too, and that's where he really finds himself in deep trouble. All because of her.
Phoenix has taking a liking to her, and really, everyone else has too. It's hard not to like her.
He's watching her now, contemplative eyes as he tilts his beer bottle back to his lips, and his heart does a funny little flip at the sound of her laugh.
He's surprised when she makes her way over to him at the end of the night, elbowing him lightly.
"All alone, Hangman?"
He smiles wryly. "Only got room in my heart for one lucky lady, Doc."
The nickname was her great-grandfather's, and it's stuck to her too. The first time Mav called her that, she got a little misty-eyed, and Jake found it so endearing he could barely look at her.
She rolls her eyes. "You get back up in the air tomorrow."
He nods, having been cleared by the medical team earlier that day. He can't wait. He misses the adrenaline and the sound of the engines roaring underneath him.
"Thanks to you," he says, nudging her in return. She'd been like a drill sergeant the last few weeks, watching him like a hawk to make sure he stuck to paperwork and didn't overwork himself while he recovered from his concussion.
"Just doing my job." Her standard answer. He thinks it's interesting that someone so confident has a hard time accepting any praise.
"No, it's something else." He says, taking another pull from his bottle. "You were born to do this, I think. You've got a special touch."
She blinks rapidly, and for a horrifying moment, he thinks she might cry. She clears her throat. "How many of those have you had?" She gestures towards the bottle in his hand. "I said one beer, Seresin."
"Not even a full one." He assures her. "And I mean that, Doc."
The way she's looking at him sends his heart racing. Is she--? No, he's imagining it, that she looks like she's leaning in a little, her lips parted invitingly. That's impossible.
"Thank you, Jake." She says softly, and it's the first time she's ever called him by his first name. It takes everything inside of him to stop from leaning into her a little bit more, and in the end he doesn't fight it.
They sit there, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, in a comfortable silence for the rest of the night. And if her pinky brushes his just a little on the bartop, he doesn't draw attention to it. He just lets it happen, enjoying the warmth unfurling inside of him.
.
The briefing where they get their assignments for the mission is tense. This is a dangerous one. Top secret, and not even the medic team is allowed in the room with the Daggers while they get briefed.
There's some speculation that they won't even come along - that this mission is so secret, the fewer eyes on it, the better.
It makes something twist inside him, the thought that he might not see her until he comes home from deployment. He hasn't had that feeling in a really, really long time.
Afterwards, he's wandering the corridors aimlessly when he quite literally runs smack into her.
"Oh!" She says, surprised, and he grabs at her arms instinctively, holding her upright.
"Sorry, Doc."
"Are you okay?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Fine. I--" He looks up, meeting her eyes. "Will you go to dinner with me?"
She swallows. "What?"
"Look, I'm not looking for anything serious. I'm starting to think you aren't either. But I also like you, and I'd like to take you to dinner. If you want." It all comes out in a rush.
"Okay." She says quietly.
"Okay?"
"Okay." She repeats.
.
They don't even make it through dinner.
He's so distracted by the sight of her in civilian clothes that he can barely form a coherent sentence all night.
It must show on his face, and he really feels like an asshole for it, but she also responds to it, so he doesn't stop himself from staring at her, not this time.
Somewhere in the middle of the dinner course, she puts down her fork. "Are you going to take me home now?"
He doesn't think he's ever scribbled his signature on a check so fast in his life.
After that it's all a blur of heated gazes, wandering hands, and finally, mouths meeting. It's all flushed skin and, for Jake, trembling hands. He tries not to examine that particular fact too much.
In the morning, she leaves before he wakes up. He feels a little weird about it, but it's also how it has to be. It's how he's always done things. And if that's good for her too, even better.
.
They go on like that for weeks. He tries not to think about how each morning it's harder and harder to watch her get dressed in the haze when she thinks he's still asleep.
He tries not to think about how she always looks back over her shoulder before she goes, something soft in her eyes.
He tries not to count down the days between now and his deployment date.
On a Friday morning, he's making no show of the fact that he's awake when she slides out from under the sheets and starts dressing.
"You could stay." He says, voice a little hoarse.
She pauses, but pulls her shirt over her head. "Don't do that." She says, voice quiet but firm.
"Just for breakfast."
"This is what you wanted, Jake. I'm just trying to make this easy for both of us."
His face twists. "And I can't change my mind?"
"Actually, no." She says, voice harsh. "Because you've said to me a hundred times that you weren't looking for anything serious. Staying longer, spending days together... that's serious. I'm just doing what you wanted."
Maybe I don't want that anymore. The thought rattles around in his brain, but he doesn't say it.
"It doesn't have to mean anything." He says without thinking, and the look she gives him is withering.
"You've been doing your best not to let any of this mean anything, Seresin."
"We're going by last names now?"
"For fuck's sake, Jake!" She hisses, tugging her pants on. "I should have trusted my instincts with you. I should have listened to my gut."
He sits up straighter now, hurt lacing his tone. "So you've just been miserable for the last few weeks, right? None of this has been pleasurable for you, and that's my fault."
"I didn't say that."
"You know what? Don't let me keep you. Must have been a moment of insanity." He says, voice hard. "You're right. Keep it simple, keep it meaningless. That's perfect."
She doesn't say anything else as she gathers the rest of her stuff and slams the door behind her.
He doesn't see her again until the final mission briefing before deployment.
They're being deployed to the same carrier. That wasn't supposed to happen. The whole reason he decided to take a chance, to finally act on these feelings that he's afraid to identify... it was spurred on by the idea that he may come back in a year to find her elsewhere.
Their eyes meet across the hangar. There's nothing friendly in them now.
He swallows hard. This is going to be a shit-show.
.
They're out in the middle of the goddamned ocean when he, yet again, has to race to Rooster's rescue. It's not nearly as terrifying as the last time it happened, but he's still furious at his friend for risking his life once again. Rooster skids into the carrier with his landing gear barely hanging on, and the rough landing has him doing his best impression of Jake himself all those months ago when he nearly smashed his face into the control panel.
He has to help Rooster get to the Sick Bay because he can't do it on his own, and no matter how much he wants to avoid seeing her, he needs to get help, and Doc is the best, there's no doubt about it.
They ignore each other, though he watches her. He can't help it. She handles Rooster like he's the most important person in the room, and it twists something inside Jake, though he knows that's what makes her invaluable.
She leaves before he can say anything to her.
"All set?" He asks Rooster gruffly, who arches an eyebrow.
"Didn't think you cared so much, Hangman." He gets up from the exam table, hands brushing over the thin line of stitches near his eyebrow.
Jake rolls his eyes.
"Oh!" Rooster says suddenly, eyes lighting up. "It's not me you're here for--"
"Shut up."
Bradshaw's not lying though, which makes Jake grit his teeth even harder.
"Secret's safe with me." He says with a wink, leaving Jake standing in Sick Bay by himself, questioning basically every life decision he's made to get to this point.
In the corridor outside Sick Bay, she's lingering. Pacing.
Jake stops. He's not sure how to get past her without speaking to her. And truthfully, he knows he owes her an apology. He owes her more than that, but he doesn't know how.
"He's going to be okay," She says. "Just so you know."
"I know. Had you fixing him up, after all."
"You sounded scared on the comms."
He shakes his head. "He's reckless."
"He's your friend. It's okay to worry." It's okay to feel things, she doesn't say, but he hears it like she shouted it.
He puts his hands on his hips. "I worry a lot, actually. I worry about a lot of things."
She's just watching him warily, and he goes on, actually unable to stop rambling.
"I worried from the second I met you that I was going to fall in love with you, and that's exactly what happened."
Her mouth falls open, and he plows on.
"I worried that if I let myself get too close, I'd never recover when inevitably you found someone better than me. I didn't think we were getting deployed together. I thought I'd never see you again, that I'd come home and you'd have found someone that deserves you. So I put a boundary there, and I never should have. Even when you respected it, I got angry with you. Because I did want more."
"Jake, what the fuck?" She breathes, and he laughs.
"I know. I'm an asshole, and I'm sorry. I just-- I couldn't stop myself. With every little thing I learned about you, I just fell a little harder. And that was never the deal. So even when you acted like... like you could've felt the same way, I didn't give you the chance." He smiles, but it's more like a wince. "Call it self preservation, I guess."
"You're so stupid, Lieutenant Seresin." Her voice is shaky. "As if I would have thought about anyone else for a year, even if we were separated."
His head snaps back up to meet her eyes. "Doc?"
"I've been falling for you this whole time too, you idiot. And the only reason I didn't want to stay that morning was because I'd worked so hard to stop myself wanting more than you were willing to give."
"I'm sorry."
"You keep saying that."
"I can keep saying it, if it helps."
She takes two quick strides in his direction while they're alone, and kisses him. Quick and hard, it sets his skin afire and his heart pounding.
"Back to work, Hangman." She says against his lips as she lowers herself down to her feet. "We'll talk about this later." Her thumb presses into the dimple on his cheek.
"If I have to, Doc." He says, and this time when he watches her walk away, he knows it's for the last time.
He's not going to let her out of his sight for a long time, if he can help it.
717 notes · View notes
in1-nutshell · 16 days
Note
Fearless Buddy got me thinking, how would MTMTE Megatron (and maybe Drift as well?) react to a Buddy who has been doing Martial Arts their whole life? Like, maybe they come across Buddy practicing some forms or they fight off an alien kidnapping attempt? Thanks and have a wonderful week!
Fearless has a particular set of skills and they are not afraid to use them.
Hope you enjoy!
Fearless Buddy doing martial arts with Megatron and Drift
SFW, Platonic, Mention of injury but nothing graphic, Human reader
MTMTE/LL
Fearless forgot to mention it.
But to be fair, they thought the bots already knew that they knew how to fight.
Years of martial arts certainly helped them get into this space program in the first place.
Granted, they couldn’t use their skills with the size they were or practice with any of the bots.
But then came that one fateful day some humanoid organic alien decided to board the ship and fight them.
Conveniently, Buddy was getting pent up from the amount of paperwork they were doing and needed a punching bag.
Oh, they were going to enjoy this.
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Drift
Drift had received an alert about an unknown organic signature near Buddy’s location.
He quickly grabbed his swords and raced down the halls.
There was no telling what could have happened between the time he found the message and him getting there.
Drift turning the corner with his swords out.
“Buddy! Buddy where—”-- Drift
Drift seeing Buddy beating the ever-loving pits out of the slightly taller alien.
“Who’s the master here?!”--Buddy
The alien makes a painful gurgle.
Buddy starts kicking them harder.
“Wrong answer!”--Buddy
“… I can not begin to tell you what’s wrong with that statement.”--Drift
Buddy turning to see Drift.
“Hey Drift! Hold on a second.”--Buddy
Buddy slams their fist into the alien’s head knocking them out.
“Hey, what can I do for you?”--Buddy
Drift points at the alien.
“I was here for that and to save you. But clearly you have that figured out.”--Drift
Buddy puffs their chest a bit.
“Years of Martial Arts can do that Drift.”--Buddy
“… Do you mind teaching me some of those?”--Drift
“Sure! As soon as we put Grumpy here in custody and some proper hand wrappings, we’ll do it!”--Buddy
Somewhere on the Lost Light…
Ratchet looking up from his workstation.
“Ratchet?”—First Aid
“Something just happened, and I don’t like it. It feels like a headache coming my way.”--Ratchet
The pair make room in their schedules to practice some of the basics and to go over movements that are bot friendly.
Not all bots are flexible after all.
Drift has now incorporated some of these moves into his fighting style and it has indeed given Ratchet a headache from the accidental launching of rocks and equipment.
Megatron
Megatron is out the door once the readings of 5 larger organic lifeforms are right outside Fearless habsuite.
He is praying that he hasn’t gotten there too late, even comms in a small group of bots to come to Buddy’s location.
There was no telling what they were dealing with right now.
He turns the corner to see one of the aliens get thrown into the wall.
All their glory was Buddy fighting off the last alien with a peculiar looking fighting style.
He would have intervened if they hadn’t kicked them in the face and knocked them out.
Buddy pants a bit as the last alien falls down.
“That’s what you get you sorry son of—Megatron?”--Buddy
Megatron snaps out of it and rushes to Buddy’s side.
“Buddy, are you okay? What did—”--Megatron
“Woah, woah, Megs I’m fine. Nothing a little bit of fighting couldn’t handle.”--Buddy
“They were nearly double your height and you were outnumbered.”--Megatron
“But I won! Urgh…”--Buddy
Buddy sways a bit.
Megatron scoops them up in his servos.
“We are heading to the med bay now.”--Megatron
“The aliens…”--Buddy
“I have a group coming here to collect the fugitives. Med bay. Now.”--Megatron
It turned out that the adrenaline had just worn off and they were tired.
Megatron doesn’t want to leave Buddy’s sight.
They ask if they could stay with him for a bit.
Megatron is later seen in his co-captain chair with Buddy fast asleep on his lap with him absent mindedly petting them.
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daredvssy · 1 year
Text
Gloves
Saw an absolutely sinful photo of Copia's old grucifix gloves earlier and immediately set off to write this. Thank god I'm not all that interested in seeing heaven's gates because I'm definitely never going to make it there now! If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here :)
Ship: Cardinal Copia x Reader
Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!
Wordcount: 2047
Warnings: smut, fingering, glove kink, f!receiving oral sex
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It’s not like you meant for it to happen, really. When your beloved had come to you and asked if you could aid him in sorting through some documents he needed to translate, you had been quick to agree to help. After all, he always did so much and so rarely asked for any sort of assistance, and you definitely wouldn’t ever pass up a chance to spend a little extra time with him, no matter how that time was spent.
So yes, you had genuinely gone to his office with the best of intentions, truly meaning to help the Cardinal in any way that you could. And you would have, save for one problem. No matter what you did, you couldn’t seem to focus.
Those damn gloves he always wore were the problem. The smooth black leather stood out so blatantly from the red fabric of his cassock. Combined with the decorative grucifixes that adorned the backs of them, they served to automatically draw your attention to his hands.
And oh, what incredible hands they were. His hands were quite large, and by this point in your relationship you were all too aware of exactly how talented he was with those long, thick fingers. Just thinking about it was enough to have you squeezing your thighs together in a pathetic attempt to fight off a surge of arousal.
As you stared at his hands while he worked, you couldn’t help but wonder exactly how those fingers would feel inside you if he were to leave the gloves on. You already knew the leather was sinfully, luxuriously soft; you were well accustomed to the feeling of his gloved hands caressing your face or holding your own. The thought of that texture instead being used for less innocent touches had left you in a state where it was almost impossible for you to get any work done, or pay attention to anything else.
You were yanked out of your reverie with a jolt when you realized that Copia was looking at you expectantly, apparently waiting for you to answer a question he had asked.
“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked meekly, a little embarrassed to have been caught staring so intently that you hadn’t even heard him.
“I was asking if you are okay, cara,” he replied. If he was slightly annoyed by your strange behaviour, he very graciously didn’t show it. “You look like your thoughts are elsewhere, should we take a little break?”
“Maybe that’s a good idea,” you agreed, grateful for the suggestion. “I apologize Copia, I’m just a little distracted right now.”
“Distracted? Is something bothering you?” he asked, furrowing his brow in concern.
“I’m fine Copia,” you replied, a small smile gracing your lips. He was always so quick to react if he thought you were feeling even the slightest bit off. “It’s just something silly, really, you don’t need to worry about it,” you reassured him. Copia narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “Mi amore, if it is bothering you then I am sure that it’s not silly. Tell me, what has you so preoccupied?” he pressed, unwilling to let the subject drop.
You flushed bright red, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go until you admitted exactly what it was that had made you so distracted. You took a deep breath in an attempt to steel yourself.
“Well,” you started, staring determinedly at a spot on the floor to avoid meeting his intent gaze. “It’s… your hands, I guess. Or… your gloves, actually.”
“My gloves?” said Copia, mystified. He reached over to you, one of the offending gloved hands gently guiding you by the chin to lift your head and look him in his duochromatic eyes. “What do you mean, cara?” he urged.
“Well it’s just… Your hands look so good in them, and they feel so nice and soft whenever you touch me in them… I guess I was just wondering what they would feel like if you touched me with them… somewhere else,” you admitted, the words flying out of you all at once.
Realization finally dawned on Copia’s face, and you were sure you were going to burst into flames in your embarrassment. You attempted to turn your gaze downward again, but were prevented from doing so when his grip on your chin tightened, insisting that you continued to look him in the eye.
“Come here, bella ragazza,” he directed you, moving his chair back and guiding you to stand in front of him, his desk behind you. “If only there was something I could do about this… distraction,” he said, pretending to be deep in thought. As he spoke, he ran both hands down your sides, coming to a stop with them resting around your waist. You shuddered slightly, his actions only fanning the flames of the arousal you had been feeling since shortly after you arrived at his office.
Copia removed his hands from your waist and leaned back, considering you. Almost unwillingly, a soft whimper escaped you at the loss of his touch. He smirked knowingly at the sound.
“Take this off,” he said, tugging at the hem of your dress. The tone of his voice left no room for argument, not that you would have protested anyways. You loved the times when he got like this, demanding and domineering. Quickly, you did as you were told, pulling your dress off over your head, not caring if you mussed your hair in the process. You were left in nothing but your bra and panties, shivering a little in the cool air of his office.
“Bene,” he said. He gestured towards his desk behind you. “Take a seat.”
Not needing any further instruction, you hopped up on his desk. Just as you had earlier, you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate the ache between your legs.
“None of that, bella,” he tutted, as he moved his chair forward to position himself closer to where you were perched on his desk. “Let me see you,” he demanded.
You huffed a little in response to his scolding, but made no further comment as you opened your legs a little for him.
“More,” he demanded, his hands coming up to your thighs to urge your legs to open even wider. He kept his hands in place as if he was holding your legs open. As he noticed the very clear wet patch that had formed on your panties, the smirk returned to his face.
“Yes, just as I expected,” he said, studying the wet spot intently. You were almost certain you were blushing redder than his cassock, at this point.
“Copiaaa,” you whined, drawing out the last syllable of his name. “Please touch me,” you begged.
“So needy,” he chuckled, teasing. “Don’t worry bella, I will take care of you.” He slowly, very gently dragged one of his gloved hands up from its place on your thigh to softly rub at your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties.
You mewled at the contact, gripping the side of his desk hard. You squirmed a little, trying to coax him to touch you with a little more pressure, to no avail.
He studied your face carefully as he continued to trace feather-light circles around your clit through the ruined fabric, like he was determined not to miss any of your reactions. He continued with this for a little bit, until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Copia please,” you blurted out, well past the point where you would have felt any shame about how desperate you sounded.
“Please what?” he replied, feigning confusion. “What do you need, amore?”
“I need you to touch me!” you grunted out in frustration, trying again in vain to wiggle your hips in an attempt to make him touch you with more pressure.
“I’m already touching you, cara,” replied Copia. “You are going to need to be a little more specific.”
You whined again in distress at his refusal to cooperate and make things easy for you. “Harder, Copia please,” you begged.
Copia regarded you for a moment, as though he was considering his options. Just as you thought he was going to ignore your pleas and keep teasing you, he stopped altogether.
“Okie dokie,” he said cheerfully, hooking his fingers in the waistline of your drenched panties to pull them down. He discarded them quickly, and then finally, blissfully brought his hand back up to touch you again, firmer this time.
You hissed at the sensation of the soft leather of his gloves gliding smoothly around your clit, the sensation making you throw your head back in pleasure.
“Is that better, amore?” he asked as he rubbed you, coaxing gasps and moans and all sorts of other noises from your lips.
“Yes, yes Copia,” you moaned out. Satisfied with this response, he turned his attention to your entrance, gathering some of your wetness on his gloved fingers before slipping one of them inside of you.
You keened in approval as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, quickly adding a second finger alongside it. The added thickness of the gloves on his fingers combined with the smooth texture of the leather felt divine, and it wasn’t long before you had to squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation.
While you weren’t looking, Copia took the opportunity to lean in and lap gently at your clit with his tongue, never one to pass up an opportunity to eat you out. Your eyes flew open at the sensation, your hands moving without your permission to grip his hair, moaning loudly.
Copia continued to curl his fingers in and out of you as he licked and sucked at your clit, the wet sounds it produced absolutely filthy.
One particularly well-aimed thrust of his fingers pressed perfectly against your sweet spot, ripping a gasp from your throat. “Fuck Copia!” you cried out, your legs beginning to tremble as he continued to attack that same spot over and over.
“Are you close, brava ragazza?” Copia asked, pausing his tongue’s ministrations to your clit momentarily to await your response.
“Yes, yes I’m so close Copia please please please!,” you practically sobbed.
“Good,” he replied plainly, before returning his mouth to you, sucking hard as he continued to curl his gloved fingers to rub against your sweet spot.
This was enough to send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as you clenched around his fingers, a litany of curses and his name leaving your mouth as he worked you through it. He kept going until you could handle no more, one of your hands pushing at his head to signal your oversensitivity. He pulled back, panting heavily as he brought his other arm up to wipe some of your mess off of his face. He slipped his fingers out of you, holding them up to examine the mess you had made of his glove.
“Come here,” he said, his voice wavering a little with his lust. You slid down into his lap, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, securing you in place with little concern for the wet spot you were most certainly going to leave on his cassock.
He held his fingers out for you to see the wetness he had collected on his gloves.
“Open,” he commanded you. Immediately, you opened your mouth for him, allowing him to slip his fingers in. Without further prompting, you closed your mouth around them, diligently sucking them clean.
“Good girl,” he praised, when he finally removed his fingers from your mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, the chasteness of the action contrasting sharply with what he had just finished doing to you. When he broke the kiss, you leaned forward to rest your head against his shoulder.
“Copia?” you asked as he held you.
“Yes, amore?”
“That was very good, you know, but I’m pretty sure I’m never gonna be able to get any work done now.”
Copia chuckled at this. “Ehe… Well, I say fuck it for now,” he said. “Besides, I just thought of something better we could spend our evening doing.”
You smiled into his neck. You were in for a long night.
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