Mitsususu

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  1. Summary

    A self-indulgent series where Steve daydreams/dreams about old-fashioned omegaverse traditions and gender roles

    Rock Sherman is a fictional alpha created by Whendoestheshipsail for her story A Most Unsuitable Omega

    Each part is mostly stand-alone
    Part 1: Regency Era
    Part 2: Playmating (modern au)
    Part 3: Mating Run (follows the events of Part 2)
    Part 4: Business Trip + Only One Bed (modern au)

    Words:
    3,849
    Works:
    3
    Bookmarks:
    32
  2. Summary

    Reunited childhood PlayMates Steve and Bucky chaperone inquisitive youth as they navigate hands-on sexual education. Featuring mutual thirsting and inappropriate use of storerooms.

    Bad sex tips are from Cosmopolitan (part 1) and Maxim (part 2)

    Words:
    4,695
    Works:
    1
    Bookmarks:
    42

Recent bookmarks

  1. Rec *

    Tags
    Summary

    There was one huge, unofficial rule about gardening: if the flower marks appeared, it meant whatever you were feeling was already there. Of course, it could always be tinted with denial, or totally unconscious, you name it - so whoever made Ichigo feel proud, protective, lucky, and in love was already in his life.

    Except he had no fucking clue who that was.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    41,506
    Chapters:
    7/7
    Comments:
    123
    Kudos:
    513
    Bookmarks:
    109
    Hits:
    6939

    02 Nov 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    There were all the obvious ones, true love, eternal love, ardent love, promises, protection; all of them mixed together with a few unexpected ones, luck, war, pride; come dance with me, but of an electric blue rather than their usual rosy-pink color.

    ***
    ‘On the stem of the sunflower, you have one that means ‘I declare war on you’,’ Ichigo said, babbling to fill the uneasy silence, craving that elusive connection they never really had but he had wanted so badly to built all those years ago. […] Long ago, his naive, idiot self had thought something could have happened between them - something not like what he’d had with others of his kind, something different.

    He had been fifteen. And Grimmjow was, well -

    ***
    ‘See ya, Ichigo.’

    His heart had lodged itself high in his throat, threatening to spill out of his mouth raw and bloody; Grimmjow had never said his name before, and much like the sunflowers and the blueberries and his weird love for both, it made Ichigo impossibly warm and aching. He had buried his teenage crush long ago, never hoping for more than a distant friendship, a silent nod if their paths ever crossed again - a far cry from the burning passion that had animated him during all their fights.

    ***
    Then he turned a little, to face him, and met his eyes; it just felt right to do it, but Ichigo longed for more, and less at the same time. […] Then, all Ichigo could think of was how badly he wanted to kiss him - to reach out for his lips, to press himself close against him on that wretched couch that was too small to fit them both; it was heavy and hot and pooling low in his belly, that want, their impossible closeness and the weird domesticity of it all. How do you ask an Espada out?

    ***
    The world stilled around them both when Grimmjow finally turned towards Ichigo and crossed the distance between them in long, lazy strides; he looked unbothered, serene, an unstoppable force even as his rain-cold fingers pushed Ichigo’s chin up, up until it was high enough for their lips to meet.

    ‘Missed me?’ Grimmjow breathed against his lips, pressing another kiss there for good measure, raindrops falling from his hair and unto Ichigo’s eyelids and cheeks; he pressed his palm against the wet fabric of his shirt, pushing him away a little, but Grimmjow’s mouth followed his still.

  2. Rec 40

    Tags
    Summary

    Maybe it's enough that he ever laid here. Maybe it's enough that you were here together. Maybe it's enough that you ever got to love him.

    Maybe.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    6,434
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    31
    Kudos:
    269
    Bookmarks:
    40
    Hits:
    1763

    31 Oct 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    He cuts himself off, eyes widening and nostrils flaring as he breathes in deeply. That cologne…

    “Fucking christ,” he curses, gaze swinging wildly to the mass of bodies at the front door that haven’t parted to let the most recent arrivals through yet. He can’t see anything, but he knows. […] Grimmjow can still smell it, warm and rich and familiar, bringing with it a rush of a thousand days and dates and nights wrapped up so tightly in each other that it got hard to tell where he began and ended. Five years, five of the best years, weighed down in the end by big ambitions and life goals following two completely parallel paths. […] To know he was always going to love him, but couldn’t ask him to stay.

    ***
    Grimmjow could hold a human heart in his usually steady hands and gently coax it back to beating, but the mere whiff of his ex-boyfriend’s cologne is enough to make them shake.

    ***
    He feels as though he’s in the middle of running a marathon as Ichigo turns to look at him, all open and earnest and horrible. Like a deer staring into oncoming headlights, Grimmjow can’t look away from him. And fuck, it’s good to see him too. […] It makes all the lonely nights, all one hundred and sixty-four of them, not that anyone was counting, shrink down to nothing for the briefest of moments. The longer Grimmjow stares though, the more it feels like he’s being gutted open with a rusty scalpel.

    ***
    The cold night air on his skin, soft hair threaded between his fingers, warm lips against his own, a smell that reminds him of the closest thing he’s ever had to a home. It’s a bubble, warm, sheltered, euphoric. And then it pops, and Ichigo is driving him back against the side of the house, hand gripping Grimmjow’s jaw as he angles his chin and kisses back like he wants to crawl inside. […] He tastes like spent moonlight and his shitty cinnamon gum, like Ichigo, and Grimmjow’s chest aches so bad it feels like someone’s cracked his sternum open.

    ***
    Falling back into old habits he’d been working to shake would only beget the same problems as before. And if Ichigo felt strong enough to admit his faults to Grimmjow, then he had to make it mutual, right? That’s what well-adjusted adults did, wasn’t it? Met halfway?

    “I don’t do clinics anymore,” he blurts out, and Ichigo stares, eyes wide with surprise. “Just my regular shifts and my rotating on-call shifts. And with the new trauma center they just opened in the town over, my cases have gone down a lot.”
    […]
    They lapse into silence for a few heartbeats. It’s slow, the grin that splits Ichigo’s face, slow like a sunset and twice as radiant. And he’s too clever for his own good, because he has to realize what Grimmjow is doing, meeting him in the middle. And because he’s a cheeky bastard— god, how Grimmjow has missed even that about him— he slides one foot forward until his leg is situated between both of Grimmjow’s calves. The warmth that crashes down on him at the gesture makes his skin prickle beneath his scrubs, the restaurant suddenly too hot for his coat. Grimmjow reaches for his coffee cup again, needing something to do with his hands that isn’t reaching across the table to grab two fistfuls of Ichigo’s stupidly nice sweater and hauling him into his lap, restaurant full of people be damned.

  3. Rec *

    Summary

    A canon AU with vampire Obi-Wan Kenobi detailing the events of the Clone Wars.

    Now with a TV Tropes Page!, thanks to PitaC89

    Words:
    157,518
    Works:
    19
    Bookmarks:
    1,082

    03 Aug 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    “I don’t know how to keep you safe,” Cody said, before Obi-Wan could go any further, because - because he was supposed to keep his General safe. It was one of his kriffing duties. And more than that, he wanted to, wanted to find some way to protect him, and--

    ***
    Cody said something, too quietly for Fox to hear over the noise in the room, and Kenobi looked up at him.

    And Fox got it, then, in that moment. Understood exactly what had crawled up inside Cody and gotten him to the point that he’d - apparently - shot a nat-born and dragged him in to answer for his crimes.

    If someone had looked at Fox with the expression on Kenobi’s face, he’d have moved a mountain.

    ***

    “I don’t - I’m not - it’s not the biting,” Cody finally managed to force out, cheeks on fire.

    Obi-Wan sighed, and Cody stood, too, but hesitated. Going closer seemed like a poor idea at the moment. “I’m not going to say it doesn’t - affect me,” he said, words all awkward and misshapen in his mouth.

    “It does. But it’s not that you bit me. It’s - I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. And when you bite me, your mouth is - on me. I can feel your breath on my skin. And your beard. And--” Thinking about it - talking about it - was, in fact, stirring his flesh, which was a piece of mortification. He was glad he’d kept his armor on.

    “I can guarantee the same thing would happen if you put your mouth on me without biting. But we’re not close like - that otherwise,” he said, trying to just get through it, like charging a line of droids, hoping there was salvation somewhere on the other side. “And it’s not just - being close to you.”

    He swallowed again; Obi-Wan had half turned back to look at him, expression still very placid but with something in his eyes, at least. “It’s - I like knowing I’m - giving you something you need.” He shivered down his back, throbbing. “Something important. It makes me…” He gestured out to the side, helpless and finding no words to describe what it made him.

    And Obi-Wan still hadn’t said anything. Cody had no idea if he were foundering his way further away from shore or getting closer to the breakers, watching him and charging on, because he’d never been good at retreating, “I meant it when I said I loved you.”

  4. Rec *

    Tags
    Summary

    The Republic sends a combat photographer to be attached to the 212th until further notice, citing the need for a morale boost. The clones make up a fake clone, citing the absolute fact that it is very funny.
    Somehow, these two things save the galaxy.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    19,080
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Collections:
    23
    Comments:
    433
    Kudos:
    5204
    Bookmarks:
    2310
    Hits:
    24484

    30 Apr 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    There was always some kind of spare gear laying around, and the 212th had gotten their hands on a blank helmet. They had immediately painted it, with a rather interesting design— orange polka-dots, about the size of thumb-prints and scattered liberally around the helmet.

    “It’s so ugly,” Cody said, when confronted with a group of his eager-faced troopers. He shouldn’t have been encouraging them, really, but their faces were just so hopeful. He turned the bucket around in his hands. “Why did you decorate it like this?”

    “We decided Liob is really whimsical,” said a trooper named Leaffall. “And we didn’t want him to get confused with any other clones.”

    “Yes, because that’s the problem with Liob,” Cody said.

    ***

    Skywalker pouted. “Everyone else gets to meet him but me! Tenday told me that Liob karate chopped straight through his chains one time when he got captured.”

    “That sounds just like him,” Obi-Wan said.

    “Force, he sounds like fun,” Skywalker said. “Not like you two. You wouldn’t know fun if it hit you in the face. When’s the last time you even broke a regulation, Cody?”

    “Can’t recall,” Cody said.

    Obi-Wan had been taking a sip of his drink; he snorted it a little, and Cody felt his mouth twitch.

    ***

    “Now what soldier would want to take that kind of a fall?” Skywalker asked.

    “We already have a volunteer,” Obi-Wan said, then, when everyone’s curious gazes turned to him, he said; “Major Liob has already volunteered to take full responsibility.” This was the closest Cody had ever gotten in his life to cracking in front of General Skywalker. His laugh was held in only by great force of strength and will.

    “What a stand-up guy,” Skywalker said.

    ***

    “It’s about Marshall Commander Liob,” said Mothma.

    “Oh?” Obi-Wan asked, purposefully bland.

    Cody winced within his bucket. Oh, kriff. They’d been found out. It was obviously destined to happen eventually, but he’d been hoping to put it off until he could blame Skywalker for it somehow, or at least be old and grey and hobbling around with a cane.

    “Yes,” said Mace Windu. “We do not feel that the rank of Marshall Commander is high enough.”

    “Oh?” said Cody.

  5. Rec *

    Tags
    Summary

    Because misfortune come in threes, Iwaizumi Hajime starts his Thursday having a screaming fight with Shittykawa, spends his lunch break listening to the UCI women's volleyball team gossiping about how Ushijima Wakatoshi had gone public about his longtime love affair with Oikawa Tooru, and closes out the day by drunkenly dropping his phone into a sewer grate.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    9,607
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    324
    Kudos:
    4688
    Bookmarks:
    1805
    Hits:
    41057

    15 Mar 2022

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    It's so weird to grow up, to realize that the same things that made him cry as a little kid make him cry, now, and hurt much worse: missing his mother, scary new places, the crushing fear that one day, Tooru won't like him anymore. Some things are just deep under the skin, in the marrow.

    ***

    Oikawa slams into him with the impact of an extinction level event: obliterating, remaps the history of him, the future of him. It's wild, to be so familiar with the shape and weight of the man in his arms, to have known him as a baby and to have known him as a boy, to know his beautiful long limbs now and the hot press of his swollen face, to love him and love him and to love — without hesitation but with clear-eyed fear — the burden of him.

    Oikawa has the carefully manicured nails of a setter, and he digs them into the meat of Hajime's back: savage, possessing, not at all as fragile as he sounds when he whispers, close and scared, "I can't do this without you. You have to love me back."

    ***
    Sometime after their blowout yesterday morning and the news cycle yesterday night, after Hajime had lost his phone to the sewer system, Oikawa had been forced to go more than 12 hours without immediate connective access to Hajime and lost this entire mind. He'd packed his passport and a fistful of credit cards, an extra phone battery and charging cord, the stupid $60 By Terry lip balm he makes Hajime buy for him and mail to Argentina, and had gotten onto a redeye flight to LAX. He'd cried the entire 11 hour flight and paid the extortionate fee for slow, shitty in-flight wifi to use his secret Instagram and Twitter accounts to stalk random UCI students.

    Oikawa is completely bugfuck, and Hajime cannot wait to stick his dick in this crazy for the rest of his life.