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#combat can be hard for sure
queensconquest · 2 years
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@aristarchos​ said:  ‘Alright again, get in your stance’ pei ming instructed Ling Wen as he moved to follow and move into his own. It was surprising for him when Ling Wen had first asked him to teach her to fight, but it was one he didn’t hesitate to jump at the chance for.
He watches Ling Wen now, donning her male form and over seeing his stance, making sure he was holding it just as Pei Ming instructed. He was no stranger to lessons on combat, he did start out as a soldier and among his rise in ranks teaching soldiers to fight was one of the many skills he has learned serving in the army. He had no doubts he could train Ling Wen easily.
‘Perfect’ he said with a grin. ‘You do catch on quick’ he says, his attempt to distract before he charges straight for him. Pei Ming moves his arm swiftly, speed increasing the closer he got and he grins when he finds his punch stopped by a perfect block.
‘Better’ he praises, their faces mere inches apart, and he watches his friend closely, feeling the strength they were putting just to hold him back. ‘but you’re forgetting something’ in his attempt to block Pei Ming’s attack his footwork loosened, allowing Pei Ming the space he needed to knock Ling Wen down on his back and allow him to take control. ‘You need to remember to if you’re feet aren’t steady your entire block becomes meaningless, I’m beginning to think you like being pinned under me’ he instructs honestly but couldn’t help the tease. ‘Do you yield?’ // yells forgive me I am actually really bad at writing combat so I hope this makes sense but !! Djsjsj
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   Ling  Wen  does  not  complain  when  ordered  back  into  stance  again.  Instead  he  simply  does  with  the  careful  dedication  she’s  known  for  with  everything  else  that  she  does.  This  had  been  asked  for  and  practice  would  help.
   There’s  no  confusion  or  delusion  that  she’d  ever  really  hold  a  candle  to  any  martial  god  (  certainly  not  through  honorable  fighting  means  ,  but  she  wouldn’t  fight  honorably  if  it  came  to  such  a  scenario  anyways  ).  But  should  something  or  someone  else  try ,  then  it  could  be  useful.  And  besides  ,  the  moment  of  shock  if  she  held  her  ground  at  all  could  be  everything.  Naturally  Pei  Ming  was  her  first  choice.  It  was  logical  ,  he  had  experience.  And  she  trusted  him.
   He  allows  for  a  ghost  of  a  smile  at  the  compliment.  “  It’s  a  necessary  skill.  “  She’s  far  too  used  to  multitasking  with  more  complex  things  to  be  distracted  ;  that  and  she  was  a  strategist  at  her  core.  She  struggled  in  strength  but  in  strategy  ?  Nearly  untouchable  without  luck  on  her  opponent’s  side.
   His  arm  flies  up  to  block  the  punch  headed  straight  for  his  face  ,  and  adrenaline  courses  through  his  veins.  Seeing  Pei  Ming  charge  at  you  was  not  exactly  a  reassuring  thing  when  you  were  the  target.  And  Ling  Wen  had  noticed  the  increased  speed  and  strength.  One  slip  up  would  definitely  have  left  him  hurting  even  with  this  male  form  donned  like  steel  armor.
   But  never  once  did  Ling  Wen’s  resolve  or  fire  of  determination  flicker  as  he  stood  his  ground  ,  staring  at  Pei  Ming.  Praise  was  nice  ,  rarely  given  despite  how  hard  she  worked.  “  Forgetti-  “  He  never  finishes  his  question  because  he  almost  immediately  found  himself  on  the  ground  ,  air  pushed  from  his  lungs  at  the  impact.  For  a  minute every  muscle  is  tense  like  a  bomb  ready  to  explode  before  it  all  does  slack  ,  and  Ling  Wen  drops  his  head  to  rest  against  the  ground  with  a  sigh.
   “  Mm.  I  see.  It  takes  more  conscious  effort  than  I  thought.  “  Ling  Wen  dislikes  making  mistakes  ,  but  he  can  own  up  to  them.  (  Mostly.  But  with  easier  grace  in  something  like  this  ,  far  far  from  her  field.  )  His  own  footsteps  were  not  nearly  as  light  or  graceful  as  those  of  the  martial  gods.  With  the  Brocade  Immortal  ,  he  hadn’t  had  to  think  about  it  at  all.  Then  again  ,  it  wouldn’t  have  mattered  with  how  it  had  taken  control  at  times.  A  sour  thought  in  his  mouth  he  pushes  it  aside  to  focus  up  at  Pei  Ming.  Footwork  ,  he  needed  to  put  more  energy  and  thought  there.
   The  question  ,  however  ,  only  made  the  flames  of  determination  intensify  in  Ling  Wen’s  gaze.  He  stared  at  Pei  Ming’s  face  only  a  few  inches  from  his  own.  “  No.  “  He  answers  ,  steely  determination.  There’s  a  proper  way  out  of  this  scenario  even  with  the  differences  ,  she  knows.  It’s  just  a  matter  of  finding  it.  (   Besides  simply  headbutting  him  in  the  face  which  they’re  probably  both  aware  she’s  thought  of  but  mercifully  hasn’t  done.  )  “  And  I  want  to  do  it  again  once  I  get  out.  “  He  adds  after.
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fereldanwench · 8 months
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BOLD THE FACTS ft Valerie Powell
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→ Tagged by the wonderful @corpocyborg--Thank you so much! ♡♡♡ → Answers are based on her status during the in-game events
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✧˖°. PERSONAL
$ Financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty
✚ Medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non-applicable / would be in great shape if not for the brain worm
✪ Class or Caste: upper / middle / working / unsure / other
✔ Education: qualified/ unqualified / studying / other
✖ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught yet / commits more crimes (bribes law enforcement) to avoid charges / yes, but charges were dismissed
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✧˖°. FAMILY
◒ Children: had a child or children / has no children / wants children
◑ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased
◔ Affiliation: orphaned / abandoned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s) / not applicable  
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✧˖°. TRAITS + TENDENCIES
♦ extroverted / introverted / in-between
♦ disorganized / organized / in-between
♦ close-minded / open-minded / in-between
♦ calm / anxious / in-between / highly contextual
♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in-between
♦ cautious / reckless / in-between / highly contextual
♦ patient / impatient / in-between
♦ outspoken / reserved / in-between / highly contextual
♦ leader / follower / in-between
♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in-between
♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in-between
♦ traditional / modern / in-between
♦ hard-working / lazy / in-between
♦ cultured / uncultured / in-between / unknown
♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown
♦ faithful / unfaithful / unknown
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✧˖°. BELIEFS
★ Faith: monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic
☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking
✮ Belief in an Afterlife: yes / no / don’t know/ don’t care / in a manner of speaking
✯ Belief in Reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking
❃ Belief in Aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care
✧ Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious
❀ Philosophical: yes / no / highly contextual
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✧˖°. SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION
❤ Sexuality: heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual
❥ Sex: sex-repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable / naive and clueless
♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / naive and clueless / romance suspicious
❣ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious
⚧ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all
⚧ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all
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✧˖°. ABILITIES
☠ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor/ none
≡ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
✍ Artistic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
✂ Technical Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
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✧˖°. HABITS
☕ Drinking Alcohol: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / alcoholic / former borderline alcoholic turned sober
☁ Smoking: tried it / trying to quit / quit / never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / chain-smoker
✿ Recreational Drugs: tried some / never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / addict
✌ Medicinal Drugs: never / no longer needs medication / some medication needed / frequently / to excess
☻ Unhealthy Food: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / binge eater
$ Splurge Spending: never / sometimes / frequently / shopaholic
♣ Gambling: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / compulsive gamble
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Tagging: @medtech-mara, @vayneoc, @themermaidriot, @itzsassha, @elfjpeg, @morganlefaye79, and @vox-monstera ♡
dividers by @saradika | masterlist here (awesome resource--thank you so much! ♡)
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vstheworld · 9 months
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cleaned all the stickers and dust and roach leavings and rat piss off my mirror.
no longer a dirty kid in a dirty mirror. this feels like character growth.
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jahiera · 8 months
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it does make me a little sad that feasibly emrys and astarion probably can’t spar often… their fighting styles are too different. when sparring is a STAPLE of my cliches.
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ssspringroll · 4 months
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oughghh actually would die 4 a custom functional knitting machine object. one day maybe if i ever have some cash ill commission somebody for that lol
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vanity-complex · 1 year
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.
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risingsunresistance · 2 years
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roguestarsailor · 3 months
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my intrusive thoughts are truly evil to myself i swear -- i was literally just trying to find the right decoration to put up in my apartment at the store and i was following the line of weighting the pros and cons. Should i buy it and how long to keep it or am i ok with it being temporary and then i got to the point where it was like i am going to stay here for another four years and then i suddenly felt sooo overwhelmed with grief that i will stay this way forever (i.e. very single, struggling to find joy in dating, going back to the rougher part of the neighborhood of where i currently live, cycle of work>home>sleep, constant rotation of friends as they leave and have to find new ones, the quiet apartment all by myself, the memories of that one guy i can't get over, the frustration of every other guy that i've met, feeling like im never gonna make any romantic connections, wondering why i am here, should i leave?, should i go see the world and hope i can find someone who gets me?, do i get me?, i can't take never feeling like i'm understood, i don't want to spend the rest of my life alone, also housing is so expensive, i could move out, i could save up for a nice condo, but im bad with money, and housing seems sooo far out of reach no matter what i do, my poor spending habits, no raises or money gains, stuck designer, the loose connections, constantly reintroducing myself, feeling aloof, no anchor, feeling like life is pointless and im just going through it, and worried i'll be old and hate my life, worried im wasting my life, etc) and i put a few things back.. and uhh try not to think about it too hard..
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miniwheat77 · 9 months
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Triple Threat. (Keegan, König, & Ghost X Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, double penetration, Sex Pollen, drugs, death, violence, poorly translated German, (sorry if I missed any.)
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It’s been a long day.
You’ve been walking for miles behind the trio of masked men. You aren’t even sure why you were sent on this mission, considering the three men in front of you were the strongest. Physically and Mentally. They’re all skilled, more skilled than you’ll ever be. But you obey orders and even though you’re pointless to be here, you’re still enjoying yourself. König thought you’d be useful, you can’t argue there.
You’re lagging behind a bit, listening to everything going on. You’ve got a clear idea of how this mission is supposed to go. Capture the target, see what he knows, leave no survivors.
After a couple bomb threats from this person with the target of the base you all stayed on, you had no choice but to do this. You were getting too close to his operation and he was getting desperate. Which means whatever he has going on, is not good. You’d been walking a few miles, it’s where you were dropped off. You were closing in on the building he was in. It was all dense jungle around it. Nowhere to run.
As you approached the building, you noticed quite a few men outside. They were loading up a truck with crates of something. None of you had any kind of idea what it could be. “Keegan and Ghost, you two go ahead. You’re the quietest.” You nod. They give you nods of their own before splitting off into their own directions. “I’m going to go around, see if I can’t get a clear shot of some on the other side.” You mumble to König. He tilts his head. “Be safe, schatz.” You smile, “always.”
You make your way around, not having any idea of what awaits you ahead.
König watches through his scope, not sure why he’s out here when he did better with close combat, but nevertheless he kept quiet and stayed hidden. He watched Ghost and Keegan zero in.
“Y/N, how’s it looking?” He says into his radio.
He receives nothing but silence.
“Y/N? Do you copy?”
After another few minutes of silence, he begins to panic.
“Y/N isn’t responding, she circled around to get a better view, verrücktes Mädchen.” He mumbles the rest as he releases the button on his radio. “Shit. We have to get inside.” Ghost calls back.
“Keegan, do you copy?”
Ghost calls.
Goosebumps rise on his skin when he gets nothing in return. He’s breathing hard, resting up against a door. “Keegan?” He asks again. He sighs. “König. Keegan isn’t answering either.”
He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He’s surprised when König doesn’t call back.
“König?”
Silence.
“God damnit.“ he breathes, taken by surprise when a dart is being shot into his neck. “What the f-“
That’s the last he remembers.
Slowly, one by one, they’re waking up. They’re on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. They’ve killed most of the threats, but there’s still one. “Rise and shine.” He smiles. Their vision is blurry but they can hear you whimpering. When they fully register what’s going on, they start to panic. You’re strapped to a chair, fully naked. You’ve got a cloth tied around your mouth. “What the fuck is going on?” Keegan yells. “Ah, so you can talk.” The man smiles. He’s breathing hard, fighting against his restraints. He runs a knife over your chest and you close your eyes tightly, breathing heavily. “Deep breaths darling. Yeah, that’s it.” He chuckles.
König’s eyes darken. He wants to rip this man’s head off for touching you.
“Your precious girl here is infected now. Well… all of you are.” He chuckles. “This little dart here. Holds 1 Milliliter of the sweetest drug you can get your hands on.” He holds up the little dart. “I prescribe about 1/4 of that for my very special clients. You’re all infected with enough of this to kill a horse.” He laughs. “What the hell is it?” Ghost seethes. “Oh? You don’t know?” He smirks. “It’s a sex drug. A bit like the over the counter ones you can buy, but on steroids. When you take a little bit, you get aroused, you produce pheromones that attract people, makes sex intense. But when you take in more than the recommended amount..” he clicks his tongue.
“Heart rate picks up. Blood pressure rises. Keeps rising and rising until it bottoms out. You’ll either die of a heart attack or your heart will just give out.” He laughs. “So.. your girl here. She was infected first. Which means she’s going to die first, and you’re all going to watch her squirm. She’s going to beg for relief, beg for anything you’ll give her. But you’re stuck.” He laughs. “The only way she’ll feel better is if she gets fucked enough.” He laughs. He sits down in a chair, writing something down. “Ich werde dich töten.” König seethes. Looking up at him through his mask. “What was that big guy? Hm?” He laughs. He stands up once more. “You know what, I’ve got an idea. How about we get rid of the ridiculous costumes, show your real faces!” He claps his hands together. He starts with König, pulling off his hood. He glares up at him. Next was Ghost, he tugs his balaclava off. Ghost sends him a death stare. Next was Keegan, who had a smile on his face. “What are you smiling at?” He crouches down. “Just think your head is going to look perfect on a stick.” He spits in his face. He growls. “Whatever. Pay close attention to your little girlfriend, she’s going to start begging soon enough.” He mumbles. “She’s actually really sexy, might give her a go before her heart explodes.” He grips his dick through his jeans and that’s when König tugs at the ropes, feeling them start to give away. You whimper out, shifting in your chair. “Yeah, there we go.” He chuckles, sitting back down. He goes back to writing something down, and you squirming on the chair doesn’t help the situation at all. You’re rubbing your thighs together, raising your hips. You’re rutting them down into the chair for any sort of relief. As the time goes on, the worse it gets. Pretty soon, all three men are trying to ignore the tightening in their pants, shifting uncomfortably, trying hard to get out of their restraints.
“Awe. Look at you.” The man smiles. “Soaking the chair.” He chuckles. He runs his fingertips up your thigh and you flinch. “Stop.” Ghost growls. “Nah, I think it’s time I take her for a test drive.” He smiles. König rips through the ropes, the man freezes when he hears the click of a gun.
“Turn around.” He growls. “Woah… take it easy big guy. I was only joking.”
“Ich habe einen Witz für dich.” He smiles. “What?” He asks. Just then, König pulls the trigger. He hits the man right between the eyes. He falls backward, blood pouring from his head. König cuts the ropes off of Ghost and motions for him to free Keegan. König rushes to get to you. “You okay?” He asks. “No-“ you shiver. He kneels down, freeing you from the chair. “I know, it’s hard. But you have to fight it.” Ghost mumbles. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?” He asks. You shake your head. “No.” You grit your teeth. “Where are your clothes?”
“I don’t know, it’s too hot anyways.” You pant. Your skin is hot to the touch. Keegan stands behind you, brushing your hair away from you to look at you. You’re completely clear aside from a tiny puncture mark from the dart. “The… the only way-“ you grit your teeth, closing your eyes. “The only way is to have sex, I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.” You whine. “I feel it too.” Keegan mutters. Ghost looks down. Agreeing silently. König nods his head. “So what do we do?” Keegan asks.
“We do what we have to.” Ghost mumbles. You nod your head.
The more aroused the three men get, the better they seem to smell. They’re attracting you so much. You bend over, crying out. “You okay?” Keegan kneels by you. “Can’t take it anymore.” You look up at him. Tears streaming from your eyes. “Cmon.” He mumbles, sliding his arm under the bend of your knees and your back. He lifts you up. “We’ve got to find a room or something. If we’re going to do this we have to start now.” Keegan mumbles. They nod. They quickly move through the building, Ghost first, König next, and than Keegan with you. They move in a line, just in case there’s more men they don’t know about. You whine into Keegan’s shoulder. Propping yourself up onto him. “Y/N- what are you doing?” He mumbles. “Need it- need it so bad Keegan.” You mewl. You grip onto him, wiggling out of his grasp so that you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist. You attack his neck with your teeth, grinding your hips into him.
“Shit- Y/N. We’re almost there. You have to stop-“ he grits his teeth, Ghost and König glance back at you, seeing you attacking Keegan. Your desperation has them aching.
“In here.” Ghost holds open the door, locking it behind you and propping a chair up on it just in case. It’s a bedroom, at last. “Ah- you’ve got to let go sweetheart.” Keegan groans. “No, please. I need it. Need it so bad.” You whine. Grinding your hips into him more. “I know, we’re going to help you. Just… for one second baby.” He breathes. You let go of him and he lowers you onto the bed. “Fuck..” he growls. Noticing the way you’ve soaked the front of him. The three men are standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you. Like you’re the finest meal they’ve ever laid their eyes on. Keegan is first to break, reaching for his belt. Your pupils are blown out as you watch his hands move to unbuckle it. The other two follow his movements. You bite your lip, body shivering at the thought of what’s about to happen. You can’t help yourself, reaching between your legs to stimulate the sensitive nub that awaits any kind of relief it can get. A mewl leaves your lips and you tilt your head back. “She’s going to have to get used to me, I’ll go last.” König nods. They all silently agree. He’s right, he’s the biggest of the three. After admiring the way you touch yourself, they can’t anymore.
Keegan reaches out, grasping your hips and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Poor girl. Just soaking..” he breathes. He rubs the tip of his cock over your aching hole, a whine leaving your lips as you raise your hips into him. He moves his hips forward, the tip of his cock pushing through your wet folds. You want to cry when he fills you up. The relief you feel is incredible. You can feel more tears welling up in your eyes as he starts to thrust himself inside of you.
The squelch from your wet pussy is the only thing they can hear besides your whines. You squirm around, the way he feels is almost too much. “Ah- you’re gripping me so tight.” He breathes. “Hold on.” Ghost mumbles. He lifts you up off of the bed, apologizing at the loss you feel from Keegan exiting you. You straddle him. “You wet enough from her?” He asks. Keegan nods his head. “Y-yeah. Fuck.” He groans. He’s never done anything like this before, nothing like he’s about to do. Ghost lines his cock up with your pussy, and you sink down onto him with a gasp. Clutching his shoulders. “There you go, now relax for Keegan alright?” You nod your head. You feel Keegan’s tip aligning with your ass. You’d be worried. If it weren’t for the drug, you’d be modest and shy away from what they’re doing. But as he fills your ass to the hilt with ease, the fullness you feel. You can’t even think straight anymore.
The pleasure you feel from them has you on cloud 9. Vision blurring, you can barely make a sound. Your lips are parted, eyes are blown wide as they start to move into you. A chuckle leaves Ghosts lips at your reaction to them.
“She’s feeling good.” He laughs. “Think so.” Keegan chuckles. You rest your head on Ghosts shoulder, turning to look at König. He’s pumping his cock quickly, he’s desperate too. You reach your hand out for him. He moves closer and you take him into your hand, pumping his cock. He gasps out, head tilting back. You can see them, all of them. More than just the color of their eyes. You can see their sharp jawlines, the small scars decorating their faces. You can see the curves of their lips, their stubble that needs to be shaved. You can see and feel all of them, and it’s too much. Your first orgasm is coming fast. Your thighs are shaking, your cheeks are flushed from the warmth moving through you. “I.. I’m so close.” You whimper. Your hand tightens around König and he hisses slightly. “Fuck.” He groans. You clutch Ghost hard with your other hand. “I-“ you freeze up. Body going rigid as you reach your first orgasm. You cry out, soaking Ghost’s thighs with your arousal. “Oh fuck.” He breathes, looking down. “Look at the mess you’ve made of me.” He chuckles. “Ah fuck- I’m gonna cum too!” Keegan pants. He grips your hips hard. Thrusting into you harder. He’s chasing after his high, using you to reach it.
He’s panting hard, moans getting more unsteady by the second. “Oh fuck!” He growls, teeth gritted as he cums. His thrusts are sharp and bruising as he rides out his high, stuttering to a stop against you. You feel full of him, turning to look at him. He grips your throat, kissing you hard as he slides himself from your ass. “Fuck-“ he breathes. He steps away from you for a second.
“I think she’s ready for you, König.” Ghost nods. Keegan takes a deep breath, relaxing back into a chair. “Does it feel like it’s worn off?” Ghost asks him. He nods his head. “Yeah. I think it’s only got her so worked up because she’s smaller than us.” He nods. “Probably, never thought about it like that.” You’re rocking your hips into him, desperate for more. “I’ll go make sure the rest is all clear.” Keegan finishes getting dressed. König replaces the chair on the door behind him before making his way back to you. Ghost slides you off of him and you mewl at the emptiness you feel. He chuckles at this, “Relax, just for a second darling.”
“Go to König.” He breathes. You nod your head, König lifts you up into him, swapping places with Ghost. He sits down, lining his cock up with your entrance. “I’m really big sweetheart, so don’t get too eager.” He breathes. “Schau mich an.” He raises your chin and you look him in the eyes. “Keep looking at me.” He presses his forehead to yours. You slowly sink down onto him, thighs shaking slightly. He’s big. You moan out, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you. Once he’s bottoming out in you, you can barely hold yourself up. Ghost has his cock nestled into your ass, like Keegan had. He was already so close. When they start thrusting, you can’t keep quiet. It’s so much, and König adds to it. Circling your clit gently. Sucking your nipples into his mouth. You being stimulated is what helps the l drug wear off. He’d do what he had to.
Ghost has a tight grip on your hips, his thrusts are getting sloppy. He hisses, feeling you tighten slightly around him. He’s right on the edge. He tilts your head back, tugging slightly on your hair. König has one of your nipples between his lips, sucking gently as he rubs your clit. Ghost kisses you hard, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. It’s by far the best he’s ever had. His body jerks hard as he finishes inside of your ass, pulling away from you completely. You moan at the loss of him, turning to look at him. “I’m going to go help Keegan.” He mumbles. He’s readjusting his cargo pants, buckling his belt. “Be safe.” You whimper. He nods. When he leaves this time, neither you or König are worried about the chair in front of the door. He lifts you up, turning around so that he can lay you on the bed. Smiling when you refuse to let go of him. “Relax, Ich gehe nirgendwohin.” He pushes your hips down into the bed, and looks at you. He’s not sure you’re ready for the force he’s about to use on you, but as desperate as you seem to be, he doesn’t think you’ll mind.
He starts at a fast pace, fucking into you hard. It only takes a few seconds and you’re nearly crying from how rough he is with you. His cock is big and you’ve never taken anything like the three of them ever before. You’ve got a death grip on the blankets beneath you, and you can’t stay quiet. He releases one hand, using it to rub circles into your sensitive nub once more, and that’s when you lose it. You’re sobbing when you finally cum again, raising your hips into him and flinching away from him when he continues his fast pace. “Doing so good for me. So ein gutes Mädchen.” He pants. He leans down to kiss you once more, his high is approaching too. The stimulation he feels is intense, you’re wrapped so tight around him, he just can’t take it anymore.
“Oh yes… yes so close.” He grips your hips hard as he slips over the edge, hips hammering into yours as he cums. You’re sure there will be bruises all over you. “Verdammt, so gut.” He cries. His thrusts halt, and he realizes he’s just filled you up with his cum. He sighs. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He breathes. You look up at him. Eyes feeling heavy as the arousal finally begins to wear off. You send him a lazy smile. “Don’t be.” You breathe. He slides out of you, groaning as he does so. He takes a second, panting. He’s trying to catch his breath.
He helps you get cleaned up, making sure to clean your skin if the mix of arousal between the four of you.
He wraps you up in a clean blanket. Lifting you up and carrying you back into the room this had all begun. He’s looking around for your clothes but can’t seem to find them. “It’s all clear.” Keegan nods. König nods his head. He places you down in a chair for a moment, picking up his hood and returning it to cover his face. Ghost and Keegan doing the same. “I can’t find her clothes.” König sighs. “I’ve got them.” Keegan nods. He passes them to König and he thanks him. He unwraps the blanket you’re in, helping you get dressed. You’re exhausted and weak, eyes getting heavy as he helps you. “I’ve got a sample of the drug and some paperwork. That’s all we needed right?” Ghost asks. König nods his head. “Yes. All in all this was a successful mission.” He nods. “Jedoch, this stays between us.” He laughs. Ghost and Keegan can’t help but laugh, even you have a tired smile on your lips. “Yes sir.” Keegan laughs.
König ties your boots, and returns the blanket around you, lifting you up with ease. That was one good thing about the massive man, he was strong. “Let’s get to exfil. We all need to be checked out.” Ghost says. Everyone nods in agreement. You’ve finally fallen asleep and König can’t help but smile.
This was going to be a day to remember.
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ghostaholics · 9 months
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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
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➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone) ➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.) ➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries ➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this. ➸ WC: 2k
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❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.
"Oh, yeah? What about?"
"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”
“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.
“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”
You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”
“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”
“I would.” More than he knows.
It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.
Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.
You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.
The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.
You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.
He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.
You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.
The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.
And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.
He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.
Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”
His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”
You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.
(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)
And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.
Of course, you take your job very seriously.
You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”
“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.
“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”
“The verdict, then?”
“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”
Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.
You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.
“You gonna treat me or what?”
Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.
The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.
Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.
“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”
But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”
You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.
You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?
But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.
“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.
He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.
After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.
Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.
And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.
“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.
Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.
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sutorus · 6 months
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HEART SHAKER
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader
WC: ~1k
WARNINGS: established relationship, suggestive language, flirting, attempts at humor. fluff, somehow.
A/N: super freaking unedited i just had to get this out bc i can’t believe it’s not smut LOL
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“god, you’re squeezing me so hard, sweetheart.”
you look up through your eyelashes at your boyfriend, brows set low in a warning. he only smirks. 
you pump harder. 
“oh fuck, it’s so tight right now.”
you huff in annoyance, slapping both hands down on your legs. 
“can you stop? i lost count!”
satoru laughs at you, throwing his head back. 
you cringe at how loud his movements sound in your ears, the stethoscope you were using still pressed to his skin. 
you release the pressure on the cuff around his arm, sighing deeply. 
“once again, i’m going to ask you,” you enunciate the words slowly, your eyes aiming at his, right behind that blindfold. “why don’t you have shoko do this?”
you’re sure if it were her measuring his blood pressure she could get actual accurate results. 
satoru tilts his head, smiling sweetly. 
“and why would i do that?” he singsongs. “you’re the prettiest little doctor around.”
“resident,” you correct him. 
you wish so badly that he was due for a vaccine or something, just so you would have an excuse to stab him. 
of course, you weren't complaining. you’re incredibly lucky that shoko took you under her wing once you got a job at the school. you weren’t able to master reverse cursed technique at her level quite yet, but you were just as good of a regular doctor as she was. 
it didn’t matter how good you were though, because you weren’t a pediatrician or a saint, and it takes one of either to deal with gojo satoru as a patient. 
“why do we even bother with check ups?” he asks, leaning back on the exam table. “i am literally healing my body twenty-four-seven.”
you roll your eyes, grabbing the light test hammer. 
“what kind of question is that? sit up straight,” you shuffle on your chair, getting in between his too-spread legs. whore. 
satoru shrugs, kicking his dangling feet. “a valid one.”
you bring the hammer down hard on his knee to check his reflexes. naturally, it stops just shy of his leg. 
you don’t even have to look. you know he’s smirking again. 
“turn infinity off.”
“‘turn infinity off’? you’re so cute,” he replies. you try to hit him with the hammer again to no avail. “i need to teach you some combat skills, girl.”
“and i need to examine you,” you get up off your seat, facing him. satoru leans in with a grin. “behave.”
he won’t. 
“wanna play doctor?” 
you ignore his voice and the obvious glee in it, a retort dying on your tongue because you do actually have to carry out a check up, to the best of your abilities. 
grabbing your clipboard, you skim through his most recent health assessment records.
he complained about a migraine to shoko. 
it makes your heart seize for just a moment, to think of all the stress satoru puts himself through to have his technique active at all times. 
“how’s your head?” you ask him. 
“you tell me,” his foot grazes the back of your knee, coaxing you closer. “any complaints?”
a dissatisfied sound comes out of your mouth as you press your hands to his chest instinctively, forcing distance between you two. 
“satoru, please.”
“do you worry, baby?” he reaches out to tentatively hold the side of your face. “don’t worry about me.”
“it’s literally my job,” you trail off, head dropping. 
satoru lifts your chin up and presses his lips to yours for a second or two. 
“sorry, sorry,” he says before you can chastise him. “couldn’t help it. you look so cute all worked up.”
at this point you just twist your lips disapprovingly, putting the stethoscope earpieces back on. 
you press it to his chest and listen as he breathes in and out. 
“satoru,” you frown. “are you okay?”
“hmm?”
you look at him knowingly, a smirk of your own blooming on your face. 
“why is your heart beating so fast?”
at that, your awful, awful boyfriend finally has the decency to blush. 
“and you’re breathing so hard, too—“
“it’s hard, alright—“
“—we might have to schedule some follow up exams,” you click your pen to fill out the form, neglecting the way he leans into you. 
“anytime,” he huffs out, breath skirting on your face where you stand between his knees. “do i get a lollipop for being such a good boy?”
“no,” you reply, taking a step forward. “but you can have this.”
you plant a kiss on his lips, letting it linger for longer than it should as he holds your hips tightly.
he hums contentedly when you pull away.
“mm, smart and generous,” satoru noses your jawline. “how did i get so lucky?”
you fight the sudden shyness rising up at his words.
“the same way i got so unlucky,” you smile at his pout. “life’s just not fair.”
he coos.
“you sweettalk all your patients or am i special?”
despite your best efforts not to, you grin at that.
“the most special,” you say, interlocking your fingers. “now get back to work.”
satoru grumbles a complaint but hops off the table nonetheless.
“thanks a bunch for seeing me, doc,” he leans down to hover his face right above yours. you push him away with a fingertip to his forehead.
“no problem. now shoo.”
you walk up to your desk to hopefully do some actual work now that your most special patient is leaving.
“ah, but i was wondering—“
“yes?” you don’t bother looking up from your paperwork.
“if you could give me some anatomy lessons sometime—“
“out!”
he slips out the door before you can turn around to see it.
you take a deep breath.
you love satoru to death, but you’re beginning to understand why shoko picked up smoking as a stress reliever.
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nanowrimo · 1 year
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4 Tips for Autistic Writers
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Autistic writers can face unique challenges when it comes to writing. NaNo Participant Auden Halligan has tips to handle some of those challenges!
So, you’ve just sat down at your desk, all ready to work on your next chapter, but you just can’t seem to start. Something is itching at your brain, and no matter how hard you think, you can’t figure it out. For autistic writers, that itch might be even harder to get around when compounded with autistic inertia, introspection issues, and sensory processing disorder — even if we were super excited to get started, sometimes the stumbling blocks are enough to keep us from going anywhere at all.
Here are four tips to identify your struggles and work around them rather than against them as an autistic writer!
1. Schedule your writing time appropriately
While keeping a schedule can help you stave off unwanted change in your routine, the need to switch to another task when the clock strikes the hour sometimes feels like a monumental task, one that eventually becomes detrimental to your creative pursuits.
If switching tasks is the biggest hurdle to your writing, setting a designated writing time with no other plans around it could do the trick. Oftentimes, just one hour of time to transition from doing dishes to sitting down at your computer to write is exactly what you need to get past that point and find your writing headspace.
2. Make sure your sensory environment is right
Sometimes getting into that writing headspace is harder than normal, but you can’t put your finger on a reason. Chances are, you’re not quite ready until you have your sensory needs met and you can fully focus on your story.
Personally, I like to be on the couch with my water bottle, a playlist at just the right volume, and a comfortable jacket or hoodie on. For you, the ideal sensory space might involve a desk and a snack, a pet nearby, and a quiet room. For others, it could be outside or even at a library or coffee shop. Autistic people are all different and so are their sensory needs, so this one is super subjective — do what works best for you!
3. Take breaks often
Writing can be exhausting, and if you’re struggling to keep going, you might need to take a pause. If you’re like me and struggle with remembering to hydrate and eat once you’re deep in a task, use your break to get some water and a snack. If you’re having trouble staying focused, get up and move around and stim or go outside to give your brain a reset. If you feel like you’ve gotten some good progress done, however small, reward yourself — do something related to your special interest, dance with a pet, and celebrate your little (or big!) win!
The pomodoro method is a good way to keep yourself from working too long without a break, and if that doesn’t work for you, methods like the Eisenhower method with breaks interspersed and even simply inserting breaks into your scheduled writing time are just as valid.
4. Don’t be afraid to skip around
Another thing that often trips us autistic people up is needing to follow the story down its natural progression, from start to middle all the way to the finish. But inevitably, once we’ve gotten past the initial excitement of having the project started, we hit a stumbling block…and the project gets abandoned. I’ve left behind countless projects because I lost interest after hitting a scene I wasn’t excited for after just a few chapters.
To combat this, try writing out of order! Skip ahead to the scene directly after your stumbling block. You could also skip to the next scene your favorite character is in or even to the climax if it helps you move forward. If you’re having trouble putting your first words down, try writing a random scene in the middle of your story to get into the groove of writing your characters.
Alternately, if you can’t abide by the out of order method and really need to get your characters from Point A to Point B, try putting the scene you’re stuck on in brackets. For example:
[Character 1 and Character 2 fight over the decision to kick Character 3 off the team. 2 leaves in anger.]
It’s simple, efficient, and gets you out of that particular rut so you can keep moving toward that sweet, sweet conversation you’ve wanted to write since Day 1.
Now go forth and write, my friends!
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Auden Halligan is a creator through and through. She’s been writing her entire life, but didn’t start participating in NaNoWriMo until 2017–right now she’s working on developing a TV series (or two!) and has several novels and short films in the drafting phase. Auden is currently a college student studying film production and hoping to minor in disability studies. You can find her on her very sparse Twitter at ink.and.spite. Photo by Lisa Fotios from Pexels
If you’re an autistic writer, check out the Pillow Fort in the NaNoWriMo forums! It’s a group for people who are neurodivergent, have disabilities, mental health concerns, or physical challenges that affect their lives.
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ddarker-dreams · 5 months
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play wrestling — blade.
Embarrassment doesn’t find you easily.
To experience embarrassment implies a degree of self-awareness. While you possess some, it’s decreased significantly compared to your earlier years. Such is the natural progression of life. This is why you felt free to act on a little impulse, initially uncaring of how it’d reflect on you.
However, faced with two eyes as crimson as freshly spilled blood, you can’t help but do some reassessing.
“… What are you doing?” Blade asks, dryly. You feel the low rumble of his baritone voice against your palms, which you’ve splayed against his chest. His neutral countenance doesn’t give much away. According to your peer-reviewed scientific analysis, he alternates between three expressions — apathy, irritation, and wrath. There is an additional secret one for when it’s just the two of you and he doesn’t think you’re looking.
From what you can tell, you’ve landed yourself on the apathetic side of the spectrum. You can work with that. You’ll commit to the bit.
“Besting an intergalactic criminal in combat, obviously,” you scoff, faking a bravado you don’t have.
“Hm.”
“…”
“…”
Is he not going to do anything to free himself from this position?!
Blade had silently slid himself next to where you sat on the floor, playing with your phone. This unique opportunity activated a primal part of your brain that probably should’ve stayed in the vault. You wrangled him down. Now, he’s lying flat on his back, with you sitting victorious atop his lower abdomen. Long strands of his black hair fall along his side, painting a pretty picture. You suppress the urge to run your hands through his silky locks. That can come later, you have an objective to achieve.
“Are you finished?”
“Wh— well, no,” you frown. And here you thought he might indulge you. “You have to, y’know, fight back…?”
He raises an eyebrow and you want to groan.
“But I’d win.”
The declaration is made like it’s a foregone conclusion. Which, if you’re being honest, isn’t wrong. Still, he should give you some credit. You can hold your own in a fight! Maybe you’re not waving-around-a-three-thousand-pound-ancient-sword good, but you’re decent enough. He’s no fun. Kafka would’ve played around with you.
“How can you be so sure— eek!”
He grabs you by the shoulders and flips you around, reversing your position. Despite the immense speed he used, your head doesn’t hit the ground hard like it should’ve. He cushioned the impact by essentially cradling the back of your head with his hand. This is why you never believe him when he denies being a ‘secret softie.’ You know the truth.
“This is how,” he says.
You pout. “Did I at least put up a good fight?”
His silence speaks volumes.
After getting his fill of how nice you look beneath him, he climbs off you. The second you’re no longer restrained, you begin your counterattack. You lunge at him, intending to pin him down, only to feel the cool leather of his gloves against your wrists. You struggle valiantly to regain your freedom. All this does is amuse him further.
“We’re pretty evenly matched, right?” You ask, beginning to grow breathless from the energy you’re exerting.
The corners of his lips twitch upward.
“Mhm. Right.”
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neochan · 5 months
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≡ 𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒! (𝟏𝟖+)
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「 MEMBERS 」 ⋮ mark lee, huang renjun, lee jeno, na jaemin, lee haechan, zhong chenle, park jisung
≣ content warning ⋮ perverted, depraved, & taboo thoughts, nerd!mark, cnc / dubcon, innocence stealer!chenle, somnophilia, mentions of weed usage as a form of coercion, too strong!jeno, manhandling, rough!jeno, degradation, religious sacrilege, corrupt church boy!jaemin, slight humiliation, corruption, ra!renjun, manipulative!renjun, cocaine usage.
≣ a.note ⋮ i'm smoking weed and listening to old hiphop, what else was i supposed to do other than write these cute little perv drabbles :) give me a like, a follow, or a reblog.
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⩩ mark lee ⋮ so what if he's a 'nerd'. he doesn't care if you make fun of him in class with all your friends. he shrugs it off like no big deal. it really wasn't a big deal, until you brought up his dick size. see, mark isn't one of those guys whose ego gets shot from small dick jokes. but when the joke leaves your pretty little mouth, well something shifts in the pit of his stomach. he still shrugs it off though, until you're walking home from class, skirt swishing back and forth just barely covering the swell of your ass. good little girls should know better... it was easy, really. clamping a hand over your lips puckered in a silent scream. and then to drag you back to his car. oh, it was so, so easy. in fact, you really wanted it. the way you spread your legs, revealing a patch of arousal on the seat of your lacy panties. how you willingly helped him slip them to the side. the way you moaned his name when he slid into your puffy cunt, tits pressing against his chest and eyes locked on his. you begged for him to keep going. for him to go harder. so he did. again, and again, and again. until you could barely walk when he dumped you outside the front of your dorm. but sure enough, you stayed quiet in class the next day...
⩩ huang renjun ⋮ renjun has an addiction. it's not porn - not technically. it's not cocaine, or nicotine. he's not an alcoholic, yet still, he felt the withdrawal all too much. he was addicted to you. or, your body, rather. he dreamed of it, hands reaching up to cup your tits, cock sunk deep in your pussy, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth as you lost yourself on him. and when he woke up, aching and hard, he had no choice but to pathetically jerk off to the remnants of the memory. he thought about putting cameras in your room, maybe the womens showers, to capture you. something he can have as a keepsake of this obsession. see, he had access. he was your resident advisor. he could do that. but then he found out from a little birdie that his star resident in room two oh twelve used her daddies money to buy coke off her dealer boyfriend. see that...that was the key. all he had to do was used that as bait to convince you. and he did. one night, at a stupid party he was supposed to shut down, he saw you snort a line off the living room table. next thing he knew, you were upstairs, tears welling in your eyes, pleading with him not to tell. you would do anything. anything.
⩩ lee jeno ⋮ really, his strength was his best asset. but he's never had someone put up this much of a fight. seriously, after one good hair pull and a hand around the throat, girls usually let up. but you... you were fun. you were a challenge. you push back, hands slapping against his chest to combat him. all he does is snarl and shove harder, pressing your back against the kitchen counter. his biceps flex with the exertion of grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the marble. you thrash around still, until he twists your body so sharply, you cry out. he chuckles, "god i love you." he presses his stiffening cock against you, circling his hips to gain some sort of friction, "feel that? you're driving me crazy." a few half-hearted attempts at getting free does nothing for you, instead, it spins you around so now your chest was pressed flat against the cold surface. he transfers your wrists into one giant hand, and uses his other to yank down your bottoms. "...and you're soaked. fuck, y/n. gonna give you what you need. gonna fuck this stupid attitude outta you, yeah?" your walls flutter around his uninvited fingers, "ahhh, you like that, you sick fuck. want me to fuck you into submission. make you a real good girl for me. gonna train you to take me, and only me." he doesn't even feel you resist anymore, because you give up. you let him use your body until he's spent, and even then, you let him use your mouth. anything for him. anything for jeno.
⩩ na jaemin ⋮ he wasn't a god. but at this moment, with his entire world peering up through wet lashes, on bruised knees...well, he surely felt like one. it didn't help that he stood overtop your broken figure on the edge of the alter. he caresses your jaw and gives you a smile full of pearly white teeth that gleam in the stained glass shadows, "speak." with tears welling in your eyes at the command, it takes a second, but eventually your hoarse voice echoes out, "forgive me father for i have sinned." you see, jaemin wasn't a priest, but he took your confessions as if he was one. he wanted you to bare your soul to him. your perverted, depraved, sick thoughts. he doesn't speak though, just cocks an eyebrow and crouches down so that he was eye level. you continue, "i-, this is so...embarrassing, gosh, i don't..." he gives your jaw a squeeze, making the words tumble out, "i did it again. i... i touched myself again..it's wrong, i- i know, but he, you...plague my mind." your voice quiets the longer his gaze burns into you. but nothing compares to the image that burns brighter in his mind. your innocent fingers slipping between plush thighs, jaemin being the temptation you couldn't withstand. it made him feel fucking good. "it's okay darling, god forgives you, i forgive you..." he stands up again and reaches a hand down to toy with the buckle of his belt, "but with sin comes punishment." he undoes the latch and slowly slips it from the belt loops of his dress pants. the sound makes you flinch, a whisper escaping your pouted lips, "oh god." heat surges through his veins, almost bringing him to his knees, "no angel, i'm not god. i'll be more forgiving than any god. i'll be gentle, i'll liberate you from all sin. i'll make you good. my darling, i'll make you pure again."
⩩ lee haechan ⋮ yeah, he did it on purpose, so what. technically, he didn't force you to inhale, he simply stuck the blunt between your fingers and called it a day. admittedly, you did exactly what he wanted, but he chalked that up to good luck, and the devil on his side. watching you slowly revert to a rambling, squirmy mess made his cock stir in his jeans. and when you got all cuddly, snuggling up to his chest and dragging him closer, well, what else was he supposed to do other than stick his tongue in your mouth and push you back against the arm of the couch. you came on to him, really. either way, the night led with his tongue down your throat, and his hand up your skirt. and still, when he pushes your panties to the side and slips a finger into your cunt, his suspicions are confirmed. your arousal dripped down his wrists, a testament to how much you truly wanted him. really, he was doing you a service. an act of kindness. "be still baby" he growled, forcing your legs wider apart. you whimpered and whined, body holding still but head rolling on your shoulders. "hyuckie.." you kept mewling, and with each sound of his name, he grew harder and harder. it felt like he might burst if he didn't bury his cock in you right this minute. so he does. sloppily, because he was high too, but he does. and it's slow, and messy, and sick. and he loved every fucking second. god, he can't wait to do this to you, no, with you, again.
⩩ zhong chenle ⋮ stealing innocence, robbing naivety, corrupting purity... whatever people call that, chenle calls a normal everyday thought. he hasn't really fucked you yet, only teased you. he's coerced you into letting him touch your cunt, but only the soft skin on the outside. you've let him touch your breasts, but never the sensitive bud in the center. you also let him toy with your ass one time, but the second he tried to slip a finger inside, you pushed him off and told him to wait. nothing could happen before marriage. but chenle was tired of waiting. he was bored of watching you through the camera in the shower. sick of touching himself beside your sleeping figure - the only time he could shift your legs in your sleep to poke at your clothed cunt. just rubbing you through the satin material of your pajama bottoms got him off, but he needed more. this time, he was able to wriggle your shorts down around your ankles, and what a sight it was. oh he was gonna have so much fun. one finger, two fingers, his tongue, eventually working his way up to the tip of his cock. pushing in, not too much to make you stir... just enough to tease himself. you were so tight, so untouched. it was obvious he was your first, and it took everything in him to hold back. tomorrow night...tomorrow night will be the night he fucks you full, until you're leaking his cum. until you're his. ruined for him only.
⩩ park jisung ⋮ jisung hates how you think of him. not just you, but everyone really. see, he's not just the maknae. he doesn't want the baby voice, or the coddling, or the fucking head pats. if you really knew what he was capable of, maybe you'd think twice before treating him like a kid all the time. if you could see the way he fucks his fist, fingers twisted in the sheets of his bed, or knuckles jammed between his teeth... the things he thought about; you sitting on his cock, forced to take every inch of him, even when the tears well over the brim of your eyelashes. cunt full of his fingers while he sucked and nipped at your breasts. the bruises he'd leave on every inch of your skin. how he fantasizes about pushing you to the floor and stuffing his cock down your throat until you were thrashing for just a small breath of air. he doesn't get off on hurting you, no, he could never do that. but making you see just how much stronger he was.. how he could force you onto your knees, and rough you up a bit until your swollen lips screamed his name. well, maybe then you'd stop treating him like some dumb kid.
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≣ taglist ⋮ @hykwrld-main @peachjaem00 @rainyjeno @be-my-sunrise @revehae
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Part 4!! (No content warnings)
Fuck these men :)
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You roll your neck, trying to loosen muscles tense from keeping your head locked in place. Hard work denying natural instinct to look at whoever is speaking, but the 141 doesn’t deserve any more of your attention than they’ve already stolen. Even if they didn’t know they had it at the time.
You’ll have to ask Nikto if he’ll massage out the knot forming there. He’s handy with anatomy like that.
“Listen, about what happened…” Gaz starts.
“Not relevant,” you snap, crouching behind a barrel.
“I’d say it’s pretty relevant,” he replies. “It’s not right, how we left things.”
You nearly snarl. ‘Not right’ is the understatement of the bloody century.
You twist on him. “You’re being unprofessional. Shut up and take this seriously, Garrick.”
You duck as a sniper shot pings dangerously close to your head. Spot Nikto across the way, hand-signaling to ask if you need back up. You reply with a ‘no’ and turn back to Gaz.
Thankfully, it seems he’s caught the message and keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the stupid drill. You resist a snappish comment when it’s over. Up until Gaz starts up again.
“I just think you deserve—”
“I don’t care what you think I deserve,” you interrupt. “I know what I deserve. And it’s a partner that can keep their feelings in their vest.”
Speaking of, Nikto appears at your side like a shadow in shifting light. There’s a disapproving tilt to his head, aimed at Gaz. You shake your head and tap your knuckles against his.
“Need a water break?” You ask, worried about how long he’s been under the helmet.
He shakes his head, then surprises you by bumping his forehead against yours — his version of a kiss. Even in private those are rare. You hum at him.
“Thank you, Nik.”
You have to run the next drill with Soap. Know from the start he’s going to be a stubborn prick about it. Can see it in the set of his jaw and the flicker in his eye.
“Didnae have to be a knob to Gaz,” he says.
You don’t respond, slipping away as the exercise begins. He calls after you and hurries to catch up, nearly blowing your cover.
“He feels bad enough for what happened, ye know.”
You level him a cool, blank stare. “You speak for him now?”
His eyes narrow. “If you won’t give him the chance to, aye.”
You knock his leg out from under him and fire at the “enemy” combatant, Nova. She sportingly goes down, but mutters that you should have let her take the shot. You should have.
“You compromise this drill again,” you tell a toppled Soap, “I’ll tell Laswell direct that you don��t belong on this mission.”
You spin on your heel and continue the exercise, ignoring any and all attempts by Soap to get you to speak again. At the very least, he picks up the slack, earns his callsign.
Nova finds you again when it’s over, arms around your neck and chest plastered to your back.
“Look’it you go, mamas,” she coos. “Shot me through the heart all over again.”
You laugh bending your legs to let her hop up for a piggy back ride. Yeah, you’re tired. But never too tired to carry your girl around. She giggles in your ear as you carry her off back to your captain for her next drill.
“With Price now,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Sure thing, boss,” you answer, doing a good impression of enthusiasm.
You know your place, settle into position just behind Price’s left side. No overtures about the past this time. Whatever iota of lingering respect you have for him grows as you complete the drill flawlessly. When it’s over, the two of you are at the furthest point from the designated “start”. And that’s when he decides to open his stupid mouth.
“It wasn’t personal, you know,” he says.
You smooth out your expression even though you don’t turn to him, already starting back.
“Okay.”
“It was the best call,” he explains, falling into step with you.
You tilt him a sideways look, don’t even bother with your full gaze. Spent far too much time looking up to him, by your estimate.
“Okay.”
“I look out for my soldiers.”
You turn forward again. “I wouldn’t know.”
Your captain happens to intercept, sweeping you up with one arm. You yelp, though can’t help grinning as you hook your fingers in one of his chest straps.
“Shouldn’t sneak up like that, sir,” you scold.
“That’s how I’ll know when I need to retire,” he replies with a crooked grin. “When I can’t sneak up on you anymore.”
You huff, snatching his sunglasses off his face to wear all the way back to the start point. Keegan meets you, looks directly at you as he salutes.
“Captain,” he says.
You laugh, give your CO his glasses back.
“Keeping fuckin’ around, Russ,” the captain rumbles, “I’ll take it out of your ass later.”
You gasp, scandalized, and laugh as the little skin visible through his smearing face paint turns pink.
“Off with you, girl,” your captain says. “We’re done after this, so keep it quick and clean.”
“Yessir,” you reply, jogging off to meet Ghost.
Fucking Ghost.
You don’t spare him a single look as you set up for the exercise. If nothing else, you have every expectation that he won’t say a single goddamn thing to you. No attempted apologies, no reprimands, no justifications. Just radio silence, like always.
What you don’t expect is for him to treat you like nothing’s changed. Like you’re still a fresh transfer that can’t watch their own six. You consider just putting your “gun” away and trailing after him until the exercise is over, but that would be just slightly too immature.
So you suck it up, grit your teeth, and do your job. Up until he gets in the fucking way. You’re about to get a sneaky shot on Keegan — a rare thing indeed — but Ghost moves. Goes out of his way to get the shot you already had and loses you both the element of surprise.
“Fucking oaf,” you snarl, scrambling behind a wall. “Is this your first fucking day or something?”
His eyes flash across the corridor. “What the fuck did you just say?”
You don’t reply, getting low and kicking your boot off, carefully sneaking it towards the corner like you’re trying to peek out. Keegan comes around, aiming too high and in the wrong direction, and Ghost shoots him.
Keegan “goes down” — goes out of his way to land on you, actually. You huff and shove at him.
“It’s not nap time,” you groan.
“Can’t hear you, I’m dead.”
You snort and shimmy out from under him. Not so different from most mornings, actually.
“If you two are done…” Ghost growls.
You suck your teeth and stalk off, giving Keegan one last pat to the back. The rest of the drill is barely civil, Ghost’s eyes more on you than on the training grounds.
When it’s finally, finally over, you sigh and pause, trying to work out that knot again.
“Haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Ghost sneers.
It’s meant to hurt. Meant to piss you off. Maybe remind you of the last things he said to you. You don’t look at him, bending to re-lace your boots. Thrilled to realize it’s like poking at an old scar. The skin is deadened, even though a mark remains.
“Fuck you’re so immature,” he growls.
You straighten and just start walking. Keegan finds you almost instantly.
“The hell was that about earlier?” He asks, frown audible.
“Ugh, he got in the way. I would have fuckin’ had you, otherwise.”
His eyes spark with outrage. “He fuckin’ what?” He snarls, turning like he’s about to say something to Ghost. Which… no. Just not worth it.
“Keegs,” you sigh, “c’mon, I told you this would happen. He’s not worth it.”
He scoffs, laces his fingers with yours. “‘Course he’s not. Don’t waste bullets on the dead, right?”
You snort and tug him along. The rest of your team will be waiting.
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otaku553 · 1 month
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Straw hat women redesigns :) I was trying to doodle some of the crew and came to the realization that I just Could Not with Nami so I wanted to play around with it a little bit
Some more design notes below:
Nami’s design actually went a lot smoother for me than Robin’s! I think canon post timeskip Nami is a very low bar. While you can argue that to some extent Nami being vain and seductive is part of her character, I do feel that there are many more integral parts of her character that can be highlighted in her design, namely map making and her combat. Though not one of the stronger straw hats, Nami does seem to be well practiced with her staff outside of its use for weather manipulation, and I think her being a physical combatant, even slightly, can be better reflected with more loose clothing for better mobility.
For her mapmaking, I wanted her to have constant easy access to her tools and to information about the locale, so around her waist she has one large pouch at the back for books and scrolls and maps in progress and one small pouch to the side for writing utensils and measurement tools. As backup she also has 2 pens in her bun, which also act as pins for keeping her hair up if she ever needs to move a lot.
I’m not sure how clearly it shows up in the notes, but Nami’s shoe soles are also made from whatever artificial cloud material makes up the weather island she stayed on during the timeskip, so that it both pads her steps to make them soundless and bounces for better mobility. The shoes are naturally shaped like heels but without the actual heel, since she tends to move around on tiptoes anyways- a nod to her epithet as cat burglar and her past as a thief.
I made her shoulders a bit broader because I think they probably get a lot of exercise with her staff, and changed out the bikini top for a more supportive chest wrap, with a loose tank over it for breathability. The compression socks and sleeve are more stylistic than anything, since I like layers, but they might come in handy for her if she spends extended amounts of time sitting down making maps for the crew.
Robin’s was a bit more difficult for me to figure out, and I might go back and revisit it at some point. For Nami, it was a bit easier to imagine what would pair well with her combat methods and her needs as a mapmaker, but with Robin, she’s an academic who fights almost completely hands off, without a specific weapon to her name. Because her strength lies mostly in her devil fruit, she has a bit more room for style over functionality, but I also still wanted her to have something that made sense with what she was. I don’t really think I succeeded in that regard, but it’s also hard to convey what she does visually— she’s more of like a professor than a field archaeologist I think.
I really really enjoy her cowboy hat but I didn’t think it would match with the rest of the outfit so I switched it out for a wider brimmed hat and kept the orange sunglasses on it, as a nod to the revolutionaries with the combination of headwear and eyewear. She deserves a trench coat. I don’t make the rules. And the rest of the fit mostly came down to things I think I would enjoy wearing, haha
The trench coat is partially a nod to the scholars of ohara, who seem to wear white coats like lab coats in some screenshots of robin’s backstory. I think also the reading glasses help to make her seem a bit more academic, but aren’t prominent enough to leave a strong impression. All in all I do wish robin’s design had more functionality in it but I also think that robin is a character who probably enjoys dressing up nicely like this, especially in the comfort and stability of the straw hats.
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