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#and certain gen x too
bucksangel · 11 months
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so, as of 2023 in texas the cost of living per year is around $49,401 a year, just to live without worrying about rent and groceries and other expenses. Because of this, a texan would have to make $24 an hour for 40 hours a week.
the minimum wage in texas is $7.25 an hour. and after doing some rough calculations, that means a texan would have to work around 142 hours a week just to be able to live comfortably.
fuck anyone who says i don’t deserve a higher hourly wage just because i’m young without a lot of “professional” job experiences. you are actively telling me you want me to suffer. boomers were able to make less and still buy a house because they hadn’t crashed the market yet.
and fuck greg abbott for refusing to up the wages.
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vyglitchcraft · 7 months
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Since requests are open, can you write for havik, shao, Scorpion and sub zero with a size kink SFW and NSFW headcanons? ʕʘ‿ʘʔ
YES BITCH I WILL, you have good taste in men hot DAMN also yes putting their canon heights just so you can imagine it (atleast before MK1 assuming they didn't change the height)
Sizing Up (18+)
MK1 Shao, Havik, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang x gen!reader size kink headcanons
Warning: Havik's section has mentions of gore and more extreme fetishes
General Shao (7'2 ft)
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SFW
This hunk of muscles love to show off his build, he is VERY proud of it. Like the type of douchebag in the gym that would flex in front of the mirror type of guy. And you love every second of it
He likes to show off, that's just a thing that Shao likes in every timeline. He likes to pick you up and just point out how small and light you are, how you're lucky to have him because someone can just pick you up and run off with you
He's a bit of a jerk but you should expect that when you dated him. He constantly teases you about your height and he'll make sure you will NOT forget that you're short. Jars on the highest shelf, every lid is screwed on a bit TOO tight, you can't seem to find any stools to stand on so that means only one thing, you're forced to ask him for help and he would HAPPILY do it with a shit eating grin on his face
He LOVES it when you do a size comparison between you and him, especially with your hands, he thinks its so precious that he can just hold both of your hands with only one of his
He went FERAL when he saw you in his clothes
NSFW
When i say this man is huge EVERYWHERE i mean it, you wouldn't be exaggerating when you compare it to your arm.
"Are you sure? I could break you" is something he constantly says. He loves to lay his cock right on top of your stomach, just admiring just how deep he could reach. Heck it scares you sometimes too, i mean who wouldn't?
But all those feelings are gone when you feel that delicious stretch as he slowly pushes his cock into you. He loves to compare you to a sex toy just because he could just hold your torso with one hand and just use you. He is VERY degrading in bed but god does he love you too.
"So pathetic, did it reach your brain too? Look at me while i use you" even when the two of you are doing it sitting down, you only reach his chest.
He loves to see the outline of his cock on your stomach, he's amazed that someone as small as you can take something that big.
You're practically getting tossed around from position to position, you're gonna get manhandled like a sack of potatoes
Havik (6'4 ft)
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SFW
Also messes with you but more just because it causes chaos. Although he doesn't care about his height unlike Shao, he is absolutely fixated by the fact that you're so small compared to him. He thinks you're adorable and wants to bite your head off.
Chews on your hair. You're probably the perfect height for him to lay his head on top of yours. Your hair gets into his mouth sometimes and he likes chewing on it.
He likes to hold onto you, he wants you to carry him around because he thinks it's funny that someone THAT small can carry a man his height. So yes you're here giving this man a piggy back ride while he chews on your hair. Look don't expect maturity from HIM of all people.
Also likes to carry you everywhere and put everything (including you) on a really high shelf, why? Because chaos.
"I can throw you" "Havik WHY" "what if i throw you across the arena so you can attack people from behind" "WHY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT"
He's big but he acts like he's small, he either is NOT aware of his height or just does it to mess with you, could be both.
NSFW
Cute aggression but kinky. That's all i can say about him.
But anyway he likes to point out certain details that just make you want to cover your face. He appreciates that you're so easily pinned down. Your feet aren't touching the ground if you're getting fucked on a table or some other random surface.
Please be warned, the man has no filter. His dirty talk is explicit and isn't for the faint of heart.
Goes fucking FERAL when he sees your stomach bulging from his cock. How you can barely handle anything yet you do, easily too. He loves it. "I wonder if i pull out fast enough, i could pull your intestines inside out"
"I can feel myself hitting your lungs, do you like it?" he's exaggerating but he loves how you're basically choking from the pleasure. Although if you're genuinely uncomfortable or hurt, he will stop. As chaotic as he is, he doesn't want to see you hurt or at worst die.
Loves it when you're the dominant one though. He's a switch. He likes it when someone weak like you can overpower him (if you can't, he likes to pretend) you can do anything to him, he can regenerate any part of his body.
Bi-Han (6'2 ft)
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SFW
Overbearing as fuck. He treats you like you're just this small vulnerable rabbit. He feels the need to always protect you, i mean someone your size surely can't protect themselves right? That's why you have him! If you think he's overprotective, he's even more so when you're small
You're a porcelain doll to him, one wrong move and you'll be hurt. Although he's very gentle, he's also like a predator, almost a yandere. You're spoiled, he's the grandmaster, who's gonna stop him from using the Lin Kuei's money for you. But you ain't gonna do shit without him "protecting" you
Since every ninja is around 6'2 (except Tremor and Reptile i think) so you bet your ass you can't reach shit but don't worry, Bi-Han is there to help you. You won't be lifting a finger when he's around.
Oh but don't think he's all soft, his anger is fucked. He uses his size to intimidate people, standing behind you like a shadow. Or having you on his lap like a pet.
Your size means you're also easily movable. He uses this to his advantage to just carry you around or pick you up if he needs you.
NSFW
Again, predator/prey. He absolutely takes advantage of the fact that you're so weak compared to him. The way he can make you whine with one of his fingers, gives him an ego boost. "I can't wait to stretch you to the limits"
Everything about him screams possessive and the fact that you look so small and weak compared to him makes it even worse. The fact that he can just wrap his hand around your whole neck. The fact that you cry every time he fucks you, he lives for it.
He'll pin you down, bite you, everything that you'll love today but regret tomorrow. His grip is bruising but no worries, he'll make sure to take care of you after it. His hands would be cold enough to soothe the pain
Seeing you grip onto him, how he overpowers you and you're hugging him as if he's the only person that could keep you safe. God he could go another round just from seeing it.
Kuai Liang (6'2 ft)
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SFW
Not as obsessive as his brother, he's respectful. He loves you and he'll make sure you know it. He wants you to feel protected but not scared. Although he discourages you from fighting because he's scared that you'll get overpowered.
He's pretty self aware about his height but he won't make it your problem.
He LOVES it when you wear his clothes or any oversized shirt. He just wants to choke you with his chain and hug you until you can't breathe.
He likes to hold your face with both of his hands and just squish your cheeks. His hands pretty much cover your face. Oh and he doesn't mind carrying you everywhere he goes, it's embarrassing but if you want him to do it, he'll handle the teasing, as long as you're happy.
Does that thing where he just puts his hands on your face, grabbing your head like a basketball. He isn't really thinking about anything, he just does it sometimes. Also accidentally gained the reflex of having to crouch just to go face to face with you. Yes its a bit degrading but he'll snap out of it and go back to his normal position.
NSFW
The fact that you're so light and small compared to him makes it so easy for him to just pin you against a wall. He loves the sense of power that he has over you. You're so vulnerable and he could just defeat you.
To his dismay, he's pretty similar to his brother but much more merciful and less degrading. "So small, so weak, i could just break you"
He would tie you up with his chains and just let you warm up his cock, his big arms wrapping around your neck while he studies in his room. His hand would wander down, cupping your stomach or thighs. Feeling your head lean back on his chest while you beg for him to move.
In his mind, you're like a pocket pussy, a cute toy but he would never mention it. He has a filter but his mind does not. He would love to see you beg that he's too big, that it hurts, your hole not closing up after he's done with you, he wants to see it but he would never say it to you, its too embarrassing.
Your small frame when you go all limp after a session looks so adorable that he just wants to hold your hips down and use you until you're all loose and open. "I'll mold you into my shape, i need you to be mine" he pants out, biting your shoulder, he really is similar to his brother even if he denies it.
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remember-the-fanfics · 3 months
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I loved your gen-z!overlord! headcannon! What about the same character X Alastor or X the Vees! I liked how you wrote a bit about the character with Rosie!
Added Carmilla for funies
Alastor
• You constantly make fun of his oldness when he moved to the hotel
• He finds you entertaining and annoying, would've killed you in the beginning if Rosie wasn't already found of you.
• Thought you had the same idea with the hotel.
• Figured out quickly when he brought it up and you got pissed at him.
• Bounds over his interests of the chaos you make.
• Found out his disinterest with relationships and more physical stuff quickly
"Oh so you're AroAce? Cool."
"What are the words you just say?"
• Trying to get him to know what certain slag is from your time, nows use it incorrectly to fuck with you.
• Minus after his tussle with Pentious.
"I yeeted him, correct?"
"Ahhh! Yes! Ahaha!"
• Shown you some Overlord powers that you had no idea that you had.
• Accidentally blow up the wall a few times.
• Calls you dear child or little annoying one. Depends on his mood.
• Calls him old man to annoy him or weird ass deer man when he pissed you off.
• Decided you're a good allie after finding you laughing at what he did with Vox.
"The TV was buffering, that was really funny and good."
"Thanks for the compliments, my dear.
• Didn't change the fact when you were ready to kill him for making a deal with Charlie.
The Vees-
• The only one you on the good side is Velvette
• Vox and Valentino just keeps nice with you not to get Velvette pissed at them.
• You've tried to change the channel on Vox's face once. You're not allowed to hold any remote when visiting anymore.
• You made fun of Vox after his fight with Alastor.
"You were buffering! Guess you overheated?"
"Oh fuck off."
• Have a business deal for your territory to get Vox's stuff for cheap.
• Told him about the advancement that happening before you died.
• And had to endures something for him after Velvette dressed you up.
"Hating everything right now."
• But he is the only one that makes TV or well anything with Technology
• Everyone keeps you away from Valentino after you heard how he treats Angel Dust.
"I just want to talk with him, I just want to kill him."
• You had already didn't like him anyway.
• Creepy ass Moth motherfucker is the only 'nickname' you call him
• Valentino enjoys making you uncomfortable
• If he cross a line, you are killing him
• But then he holds Angel Dust soul above you so you don't actually kill him.
• Doesn't mean you wouldn't hurt him
• He eventually tries not to cross the line, tried of getting beaten by a child according to him.
• Velvette is the only reason you vist, mostly to her studio.
• Being a backup model when she wants you too, only in private.
• Refusing to actually model infront of people.
"I would die... again."
"Don't be dramatic about it."
• Gives you clothes that are in at the moment if you hang out in public
• Understand most of your references
• Willing to fuck someone up if they give you a weird look when she's with you.
• They all hates that you go to the Overlord meeting
• Does enjoy when you spill some tea about what happens
• You're cool enough to associate with the Vees but not enough to be one, not that you would join when you only get along with one and half of them.
Carmilla Carmine-
• Has a motherly instinct with you even though you're powerful enough to be an Overlord.
• You mostly come over to hang out with her daughters, whose usually busy working so you end up helping them.
• Ends with her mothering you when she mothers her daughters.
• Teaches you how to fight after seeing fighting so recklessly.
• Only because someone tried to fight you when her and her daughters were around.
• One of the Overlords that has been in your territory, enjoys how you keep it orderly.
• Surprised with how you run your deals and with how many Sinners come to you for help.
"Oh that was less than normal, you probably scared a few of them away."
• Makes sure your kindness isn't viewed as weakness to anyone.
• Doesn't let you cause any chaos in her presence.
• She gives you a stare that reminds you of your own mother/guardian.
• Causing you to stop before you even start.
• Odette and Clara enjoy your company, reminds them of a less annoying sibling.
• Checks up on you after exterminations, will invite you to wherever they hide but you don't usually don't leave your territory during
• Doesn't like that you get along with Velvette or any of the Vees.
• You were there when the exterminators showed up, ready to go all demon on them to buy time before Camilla showed up, Clara and Odette had to make sure you didn't still tried to fight by pulling you away with them.
• Sheltering them in your own hiding place for the rest of the time.
• Sworn to secrecy, by a pinkie promise.
"Thank you for being ready to defend my daughters at any cost."
"It was no big deal, you showed up before anything actually happened."
• You only showed up because you knew where they were hiding and saw how it quickly went to shit.
• She tried to get you to promise not to do that again, you denied it.
"If that ever happens again, I'll do it in a heart beat. So I can't."
• Realizes quickly you wouldn't let anyone mess with people you call your friends
• Even if meant facing certain death by angels.
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dreamauri · 10 months
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platonic! f1 grid x gen z! driver! reader who just got into f1 but they win a pole position on their debut race and everyones freaking out bcs she won a pole position and maybe the crowd is super pissed even tho she rly deserved it and theyre all mocking / booing her angst to comfort ⁉️
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♪ — 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗨𝗣 f1 grid [platonic] x gen z! fem! driver! reader (comfort) “. . . you score high on your debut but fans don't like winners”
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( masterlist ) ( requests | taglist )
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"Let's groove tonight! Share the spice of life. Baby slice it right. We're gonna groove tonightttttttttttt." You sang happily through the radio as you completed your cool down lap. After learning the way of the car in FP1 and FP2 and studying the track through FP3, you were able to make it to Q3 where you claimed Pole Position.
"And that is, f3 and f2 champion, L/N on pole for her debut race." You heard through the stadium speakers, headbanging and dancing slightly in your seat to the music playing in your head. "Let this groove, light up your fuse, it's alright, alright, alright, oh wowe! Let this groove set in your shoes, so stand up, alright, aaaaaaalright."
You got out of the car, dancing with yourself out of excitement. As you gently took your helmet and balaclava off, a hoard of loud distasteful noises came into contact with your ears once you took off the ear buds. Your excitement died down as you looked at the stadium and the crowds confused.
In the the corner of your eyes you saw Max Verstappen shake his finger and head no. "Who are they- ?" Your question was cut off with the answer. "Fuck you, Y/N." The crowed said infusion making you feel your heart drop between feet. Your face fell from one of happiness, confidence, and excitement to one of fear.
"Don't let them get to your head." Lewis Hamilton wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling you away from the masses. This was nowhere near what you expected. They sang insults strung to your name and you could only plug your ears, the name your parents gave you felt tainted and stained.
Despite being pulled away, you looked back watching the source of hate with an expression of hurt. "Hey!" You averted your head to the four time world champion. "That was amazing driving over there." Sebastian Vettel ( your hero ) patted your back comfortingly. "Ignore them, your performance is too good for them and they're scared from you." You could only nod.
You sat in a chair outside your garage, watching as your team worked on the car for tomorrow. "Hey kid." Charles crouched down beside you, giving you his famous kind and warm smile. "You doing alright?" "Mhm." You nodded in reply returning his smile. Although still suffering from shock, Lewis and Seb had comforted you and shouted insults back for you ( finding you too innocent and small to swear ).
"I'm ready to go to war." Carlos came up from behind you, his hands on his hips with a frustrated look on his face. "You can't take all of them on, mate." Charles shook his head, sighing. "Watch me. Lets go, Y/N." Carlos rolled up his sleeves, dragging you along.
"Not without me." Max caught up to the trio. He was on his way to offer you a talk over a can of red bull, but the Ferrari boys beat you to him. "Cheers." He clinked his can with yours when he was finally able to give it to you.
The four of you were standing in front of the stadium of haters from the track. Carlos took your free hand 'teaching' you how to flip them off. Charles only watched interested, drinking from his water bottle alongside the red bull driver. "You think PR is going to have a hard time cleaning this mess up." Max looked at you, who was slowly gaining your confidence back with each insult you should in return.
"They're going to have a field day, mate." Charles sighed, watching you and Carlos dance together. Although this was your first time spending time with this certain collection of drivers, this was already your favourite group, one where you could feel comfortable being yourself.
Sitting in between Kimi Raikkonen and Fernando Alonso in the post qualifying press conference, you felt a little tense being one of the only women in the room and the only one with all the attention. "What do you think about the fans' reaction about Y/N getting pole."
"I think it's stupid." Kimi replied bluntly, shrugging. "I think they're scared." Fernando affirmed chuckling. "They are, they wouldn't be booing her otherwise." Kimi agreed nodding. "Y/N has a lot of potential as a driver. They know what she's capable of, and that's- that's very scary." Ferando completed laughing.
You were sitting in between the two men, a blush and a happy smile covering your face as you looked at down at your fiddling fingers. "Y/N are you looking forward to starting the race tomorrow from P1?"
"Who- Me? Uhhh . . . to be honestly, I want to put up a fight against someone, you know. I've always dreamt about winning a battle for P1." You nodded, your pink happy face grinning widely.
Maybe you should've held back a little because you were feeling pressured by all the drivers behind you. Sitting in your car at the starting grid, you felt like a goat that is going to be chased by wolves. "Relax kid, you'll be ok." Looking up from inside your car, you saw Lando who had stopped by to wish you luck.
"I'll be seeing you on the Podium, Y/N. Have a safe race." Pierre cheered as he passed by, giving you a wide smile and a wave. To say you were feeling giddy was fair, you sang songs with your team members while you waited for the race prep. "It's fun to stay at the-" "Y - M - C - A." You heard someone singing with you, your turned around in your car looking at the source of noise.
"Young man young man, are you listening to- oh sorry, Y/N." Yuki apologized once he realized you stopped singing and were looking at him. You could only laugh continuing to sing with him.
And when the time came, you were smiling as you watched the masses boo you. Throwing them the middle finger in return, the eternity of the grid copying you.
"It's lights out, and away we go!"
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voice notes 🔊 . . . ( i got writing to this right away, i really liked this idea. thank you for sharing and requesting, i hope it meets your expectations )
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agendabymooner · 7 months
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MASTERLIST: O-Z by agendabymooner
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LINK TO MASTERLIST: A-N F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner
LINK TO SOMETHING SINFUL (SMUT) MASTERLIST by agendabymooner (MINORS DNI)
note: part two of my masterlist!
legends/genre:
a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour
s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff
★ - newly added ♡ - favourite piece
esteban ocon (eo31)
the royal wildcard, smau: the british media's good at getting the juiciest details of gossip from the palace, but much to their dismay, princess albertine spencer followed the footsteps of her brother harry and had done an amazing job at hiding her marriage with a certain alpine driver for three months. (f, g, h)
the royal resemblance, smau: albertine ocon lived to give her estranged family something to talk about because of her physical appearance that could be confused with her mother's ghost. too bad, ditty ocon was born into the world with the same heart attack-inducing features.
ditty and estie greet the world, fic: diana 'ditty' ocon looked so much like her namesake but act more like her father with her shyness.
pato o'ward (po29)
caught 'em lacking, smau: diwa arellano is mclaren f1's social media admin. so what if her constant teasing of oscar bites her in the ass and accidentally posts something that could potentially compromise her job? meanwhile, lando and oscar laugh at her demise while pato finds it endearing.
sergio perez (sp11)
she's beauty, she's grace, smau: in which carmella ayala perez, the miss universe 2018 winner, tied the knot with checo after their five years of relationship and the birth of their second child.
oscar piastri (op81)
lomi and the piastri fiasco (filo!gen z!ofc)
jollibee, madrid and all that romantic fiasco, smau: paloma san pedro is carlos sainz's cousin-in-law who also introduced oscar to his newly found filipino fast food chain addiction. safe to say that he bought a ticket last minute just so he can obsess over her, too.
live tweets, japan and all that romance fiasco, smau: how oscar's podium win in the japanese gp led to the revelation of his relationship with carlos sainz's in-law, paloma. lesson learned: just call her "pal" then she'll spill the tea for the both of you easily (f, h)
lucky charms, qatar and all that romance fiasco, smau: oscar is quite a forgetful guy, he forgot to mention to carlos, his future in-law, that paloma was his sprint lucky charm. (f)
long distance, england and all that romance fiasco, smau: paloma moved to england a year after enduring a long distance relationship with oscar.
other pieces
12345sex, smau: oscar is secretly freaky and mercury nicoletta had to show him off at some point. ★
kimi raikkonen (kr7)
stop the world i wanna get off with you, smau: vera 'coppa' coppola-raikkonen is the only one who can make the iceman talk a lot. she's also the only one who can make the chatty versions of him as their three older children (romania, rooney and johann-lauri) make their presence known to the racing community. (f, g, h)
someone's dad, socmed snapshot: kimi being the coolest dad, a series. ★
daniel ricciardo (dr3)
rush series (x måneskin member!ofc)
honey (are u coming), smau: how lester alessandro got blocked by daniel ricciardo before meeting him in monza 2021. (h)
own my mind, fic: it took lester almost six italian grand prix races to come across daniel ricciardo once more. sure, she was hesitant to speak to him regardless of the fact that she was his fan but the mclaren driver was certain he’d rather cause a stir in the f1 community with her after his win in monza than celebrate his victory with a lot of people. OR the second close encounter between the two of the most unhinged people of f1. (g, h)
read your diary, smau: it's 2021 and everyone thinks that lester and daniel are dating. lesson learned: never underestimate a fan's investigation skills. (g)
mamma mia, smau: an interview with jimmy fallon gives a brief idea of how lester and daniel came to be. (g)
mamma mia (again), smau: a youtube playlist was created to compile clips of danny talking way too much about his beloved girlfriend (f)
gossip, smau: everyone thinks lester's only here to be a formula one girlfriend with a bad reputation. it's not her fault she's confident. (mc, hc, h)
kool kids, smau: lester and daniel are going to new york to see a musical... while babysitting their "kid" (feat. lando norris) (g, h)
timezone, fic: lester wasn't normally like this, but she's more than willing to pay twice the price just to get to the next flight to where he wanted her: his arms, her home. (hc)
if not for you, smau: messages exchanged between lester and others as she takes care of the wolff children and an ex with the poorest decisions to have existed. (feat. lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc and characters from a story) (f, g, h)
baby said, smau: many tweets are posted that they don't often mean. their fans thought that his marriage proposal was one of them. (f, g, h)
supermodel, smau: how not to cry when you're talking about the man who'd give you the wedding that you dreamed of? (f, g, h)
rush series: wedding special
london bridge, smau: the alessandro-ricciardo wedding week is nothing of a peaceful week, and the monday only proved that thought right. (feat. f1 drivers) (f, h) - wedding special 1
fergalicious, smau: the grid singles need to touch some grass… or in lando’s case, go swimming. (feat. f1 drivers) (h) - wedding special 2
l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola), smau + fic: the alessandro family arrived and lando and george found themselves alone with two of the sisters. (feat. lando norris and george russell) (f, g) - wedding special 3 ♡
rush series: mrs. ricciardo special
part of you, smau: mrs. lester ricciardo asks her followers what to get her husband for his 35th birthday. little did danny know, she’s already got one ready to surprise him (f, g)
when emma falls in love, smau: as her pregnancy progressed, lester ricciardo made sure that her sanity wouldn't go the other way as she posted a thread of journal entries talking about her pregnancy. (f, h)
slipping through my fingers, smau: beau ricciardo was his dad's carbon copy and his mom's little heartbreaker.
here comes the sun, smau: despite having a red bull driver dad, beau ricciardo - or "little par" - is converted to tifosi, thank god for his full-italian mother. OR lester ricciardo's one year old son and his chaotic dad attended a måneskin concert when the bassist returned to the stage after almost two years of absence. (f, h)
pocketful of sunshine, scenario: beau ricciardo turned one and what's a good way to show his personality besides from showing it in front of an irwin? ★
other pieces
leaked, smau: daniel ricciardo is a borderline blabbermouth. (filo!ofc)
when danny said, smau: daniel + sadie samuels = it feels just right. (country singer!ofc) ★
george russell (gr63)
his family and her lover, smau: eleanora 'nora' alessandro was more than happy for george's willingness to step up as her children's father regardless of how people poorly reacted on their relationship.
she's magic (youtuber!singer!ofc)
the multifaceted gf and her pets, smau: arabella 'ara' elgin is multitalented and her haters couldn't do much about it as she released a new song about her relationship with george.
carlos sainz jr. (cs55)
two worlds entangling (filipino!ofc)
ride home, smau: the ferrari driver accidentally outed himself as a married man, so mona magdalena sainz stepped in to say hi to his loyal fans. (f, g, h) (extra)
dear, smau: nobody loved each other more than magda and carlos sainz. OR a series of tweets in which magda and carlos never took each other seriously. (h)
pag-ibig, traducido (love, translated), fic: no matter what cultural context and backstories, magda and carlos' souls were entwined into one all thanks to the languages of love that they shared. OR times when the spanish and filipino defined their love in many languages. (f) ♡
logan sargeant (ls2)
he's her lobster, smau: eugenia 'genie' newton + logan sargeant = mondler (h)
mick schumacher (ms47)
big mick energy series (x filo!ofc)
she's everything... and he's just mick, smau: barbara 'barbie' blanco is the vettel family's foster child that gradually turned to kimi vettel's nanny and mick's crush? (f, g)
"besties", smau: everyone swore that mick and barbie are more than "babysitting pardners" (f)
who is kenough, smau: mick nearly took the piss from arthur leclerc after the posts that the monegasque had of barbie. too bad, mick was already hers before arthur could even try. (feat. arthur leclerc)
kenergy unfolded, fic: written version of who is kenough OR arthur leclerc was only scheming just so mick could do something about revealing his relationship with barbie. ♡
the vibing allan and the reluctant ken, smau: for mick, there are only two words to describe his girlfriend's best friend arthur: a headache. OR arthur leclerc is a third wheel that mick always get on a fight with. thankfully, barbie had fair experiences with boys who are petulant and childish at times (kimi and seb)
barbie and the schuminis
mick multiplied, socmed snapshot: girl dad!mick that's all
the little schuminis, fic: 4 times when mick showed his devotion + 1 time his devotion paid off
lance stroll (ls18)
gotta be you, smau: bora mckinnon made her presence known in the paddock one year after lance broke up with her. now, they're all over the media because of his presence in her three birthday celebrations. the question still stands: are they getting back together?
diors and diecasts, socmed snapshot: lance stroll is sassy but so was his carbon copy. OR according to him, his son was a victim of the only child apocalypse. he also said that while buying his son everything he could get his hands on. ★
yuki tsunoda (yt22)
line without a hook, smau: pia ellis misses her mystery bf that everyone thought to be her delusions. it turns out he's a formula one driver who definitely misses her too.
chaos family, socmed snapshot: yuki is a dad to the little mini yukis known as hana and shin.
max verstappen (mv1)
✿ to loathe and to love series - max verstappen x hearth sister!ofc (sylvie ford) ♡
to loathe and to love: extras (x ofc)
lost in japan, smau: just two lost souls (with a tour guide) travelling to japan to make up for the childhood they missed. (f)
the purple chronicle (x ferrari!ofc)
paint him red, smau: alfrieda 'dina' ferrari is the only woman who can mark him as a ferrari fan - and he was quite alright with that.
sebastian vettel (sv5)
sweet rich life series (x filo!socialite!ofc)
crazy rich wife, smau: everyone (some twitter account) wonders where the recently retired german driver had gone to after the 2022 season. thank god for bel vettel, his fans now know that he’s still alive and is being spoiled and pampered by his wife. (f, g)
sweet spoiled husband (+ son), smau: mick schumacher is a grown man that both bel and seb treat like their own child. (f, g)
sweet spoiled schatzi, smau: bel and seb introduce the newest addition to their little family, and mick seems to love kimi vettel as much as a godfather loves his godchild. (f)
sweet little similarities, smau: bel and everyone could tell that kimi vettel was becoming more like his father, sebastian's, carbon copy as days went on. (f, g, h)
sebastian and sons (and soufflés), fic: day in the life of a retired sebastian vettel, featuring his kids kimi and barbie (and a nervous mick). (f)
sweetest spoiled sons, smau: sebastian was a father to not only two- but THREE kids. OR stefan vettel is the newest addition in the vettel household after years of trying and it's safe to say that everyone welcomed this news with open arms. (f)
crazy rich and famous, smau: the vettel couple stepped up to address the scrutiny that their children faced OR sebastian activated his instagram account just so he could show his masterpiece: photographs that he took of his wife for their anniversary.
seb's best girl, scenarios (x daughter!ofc)
Summary: Sebastian Vettel understood the downfalls of infertility just by being there for his wife. What he didn’t know, however, was that his life would drastically change when their foster daughter, Barbie Blanco, was put into their care. OR, what made Sebastian the best father figure to a teenager who had nobody but herself. 
one, enter barbie: fifteen-year-old barbie blanco thought that meeting new people was intimidating, and sebastian learned that making her comfortable in her new home was a responsibility he should uphold as her father figure.
two, meeting mick in malaysia: barbie was brought to her first race ever and had met her newest best friends there. it was obvious that she and mick schumacher would get stuck to the hips after their first meeting.
mark webber (mw2)
the problem with following orders, smau: lydia 'liddy' vettel was what everyone considered 'a revenge best served cold.' of course that was a joke, it wasn't entirely either of their fault they were too drawn at each other. (g, h) ♡
toto wolff
✿ colour me your colour series masterlist - toto wolff x hearth sister!ofc (tilly marie hearth) series
colour me your colour: extras (x ofc)
the paddock's resident it girl, smau: besides from owning three of mercedes' competitors in the track and being the mercedes team principal's wife, she's also known as the cool girl of the paddock for her taste in fashion and husband. (f)
the paddock's lucky husband, smau: with him being spoon-fed with love from his children and wife, toto really couldn't ask for more. OR tilly wolff liked to talk about fashion but her family? she might as well write a whole book about them. (f)
the paddock's resident menace and the dame, smau: tilly wolff was presented with a damehood and her daughter tia, the girl who tends to act on her mischievous way (all thanks to toto), celebrated her 7th birthday during the silverstone gp week. fans recall her best moments in sky sports and media overall.
the paddock's iconic team owners, smau: toto and tilly wolff are considered the king and the queen of formula one for a good reason.
the arrow and the bull speared through the hearth, fic: tia wolff learned a lot from her papa and uncle christian, and tilly had to teach them a lesson too. (h)
the paddock's drive to survive, smau: in which, toto's wife tilly became a part of the season six of the netflix series 'drive to survive'. OR everyone believed her to be a part of big controversies in the formula one season of 2023. ★
#tbt, socmed snapshot: too many throwbacks, so little time. ★
many sommers with you (x supermodel!ofc)
twentieth sommer of love, smau: toto wolff celebrated his 20 years of marriage with his childhood friend/wife and their four kids. OR everyone wondered why irish sommer was referred to as 'the bitch of the runway.'
f1 drivers (general / multiple pairing)
✿ 9 to 5 series masterlist - f1 grid x ofc (lester alessandro) ft. fictional wolff kids
too much caring, smau, sv5 + jb22: kpop idol juno was assumed to have cheated on retired driver jenson button with his best mate sebastian vettel. oh how wrong those people were... ★
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whorbidmore · 24 days
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okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.
Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons
SFW
accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.
honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.
Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.
Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.
Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!
Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.
Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.
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lovezbrownies · 3 days
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Long live the queen. (Yan!Queen x Reader)
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Masterlist
Synopsis: A queen is nothing without her lover.
Queen Nia x Reader
Warnings: Forced marriage, abuse of power, violence (not against reader), not edited.
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(Set years before Gen and Grim.)
Being the Queen right hand was never easy. But being her beloved wasn’t any easier.
Queen Nia has been ruler of Xelera since she was 16 years of age. However due to tradition she still hasn’t shown her face to the public, or any part of her to begin with. Any of her decrees were announced via the Board of Chiefs. The Xeleran tradition calls for a queen to be crowned at age 30, so a young princess cannot show her face until her coronation at 30. And in regard for princesses crowned before 30, they still were not allowed to show themselves.
Stupid old tradition no one really cared for since every queen was crowned at the perfect age. Except Nia, whose parents were brutally assassinated during some announcement, forcing Nia to take to the throne and own up to her responsibilities at a young rebellious age.
She liked this tradition. Only to use it to her advantage and sneak out of the palace and seek her favorite person. You. Her loved one. You were a servant, but you had the night shift, where you assisted residents and nobles whenever one called for you from 8 pm to 5 am, excluding anything sexual of course. That was a different type of servant and they don’t work nights due to how aggressive nobles can get by then.
There were two sections of her large palace, a section for the public and any noble visitors (Named Pulica), and a section for Nia, a carefully selected team of servants to tend to her, and a few guards (Named Khas). So, when Nia got too bored of her life as queen at age 20, she decided to sneak off into Pulica or even outside the palace entirely and cause some form of mischief with some rando.
But as she finally slinked her way into Pulica, ready to head to the gates exiting the palace she bumped into someone. Ready to flee back to her cozy room, but instead she had her breath stolen right out of her. She was looking at the most attractive person she has seen! And instead of appreciating her beauty as much as she did with you. They just dusted themselves off, bowed deeply, apologized and asked if she needed any assistance.
When she slowly shook her head no, still stunned, you smiled brightly at her. “My name is Y/n, please call for me if you need anything, esteemed guest.” Nia felt incredibly ashamed when she stuttered when telling you her name, how dare you fluster the queen to the point of stuttering. The queen was above that, but of course to preserve her identity she didn’t say any of this outloud.
Since then she would seek you out for entertainment during late nights, you’d stay up with her and play games, paint, knit, whatever hobby Nia felt like participating in that night. The more Nia spent with you she realized how perfect you were for her. So cute, so obedient, so indulgent in her needs. That was your job. That was because you loved her. 
There came one night where she went off to your designated shift area. Nia could not find you, she kept seeing this other servant rather than you. So eventually pulling herself up by her big girl boots she approached them, demanding to know where you had gone. “Y/n? My apologies however they’ve been switched to the day shift.” She raged that night. Her room was in disarray, she looked like a complete mess, and she demanded answers from the Chief of Management. 
Nia had threatened the answers right out of their throat. They confessed to coming to know of her late night activities from a few gossiping servants talking about how some random woman would only appear at night to take up a certain servant’s time. The chief confessed to changing your schedule so Nia can prioritize her time on her duties. Nia saw red, she never saw herself as the aggressive type, not at all, but something completely possessed her at that moment. 
Her tiny 5’4 frame somehow manages to beat the shit out of them, to the point where the big bad Chief of Management ended up on the floor, lying in the fetal position. Nia beat them black and blue, her hands, clothes, and face covered in blood she fired them immediately after. And the first time Nia has ever done any real work since she’s been crowned was to get you back to your old shift.
The next day there was a lot of discussion on who will be the new Chief of management throughout Khas, Nia’s mind, however, was set on you. So, she just picked the first candidate her Board of Chiefs suggested and started getting herself ready and pretty for her beloved.
Years pass as you two keep meeting up at night, you admittedly had fallen for her at one point due to her charm. However, you thought she would never like you back due to her social status, so you moved on. It may have taken a while to move on but you did! It was far easier since you only saw her at nights and she hardly accepts leaving the palace for a night out.
It was always odd for you how she was against leaving palace grounds but you eventually came to the conclusion that she must be the queen’s right hand maid. Those servants aren’t allowed off palace grounds, out of Khas in general, which might be why she only comes out at night. There were a few times you two ended up outside the palace and in the city but Nia would spend a lot of her time looking behind her in paranoia.
5 years left until her coronation and Nia was being pressured to look at suitors to rule her kingdom right beside her. Of course none of them are allowed to meet or see her, most of these suitors were chosen by the board from what they already know from past diplomatic meetings. Nia couldn’t care whose picture and portfolio she was presented. She was bratty, she didn’t want anyone other than you.
While the Board of Chiefs at the time were sick of how snotty she was about you, they realized there would be no way she’d ever marry if it wasn’t you. So they accepted it, they allowed her to propose to you and marry as soon as time will allow it.
Nia was overjoyed! Years of tantrums and abuse of power finally worked! She has you completely to herself! Bingo! It was quite a sight to see a 25 year old Queen dance and jump around in joy. She then ignored all her duties (as usual) and pampered and made herself pretty for you, she put on her prettiest dress, her best makeup, her cutest jewelry. 
That night was special for her. So special, and it’ll be special for you too! Whether you liked it or not. You denied her at first but she knew that it was just because you were scared to be ruler. It’s okay, she will teach you and assist you along the way! Or you two can throw your duties onto other people, as she normally does, and go out and have fun! Nia will ensure your complete happiness.
Nia did not take no for an answer, she guessed you’d be too nervous to accept the Queen as your wife so she had guards follow her until she called for them. And when she did that she commanded them to take hold of you and send you off to Khas, where you two shall spend eternity together, forever.
It was quite a sight, you trying to refuse to sign the contract that will forever bind you to the psycho you called a friend, and Nia threatening to execute your friends and family publicly. With no other choice, you reluctantly signed, making her swear not to hurt your loved ones.
Nia made sure to emphasize that there was no escape. If you do try to escape she will execute someone in your family, and every attempt to escape will end in the death of an innocent life. You were stuck. Forever Queen Nia of Xelera’s arm candy.
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zorrasucia · 4 months
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Teach Me Tonight - Part 5
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] Part 5: [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]
Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)
Rating: Explicit (4k)
Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, P in V sex, Rough Sex (consensual at reader's request), Facesitting, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink
Summary:
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It was Friday, a little past nine at night and you were home alone. You had said goodbye to Carmy back at the restaurant, the frantic energy inside the kitchen a clear indicator that you wouldn't see him until the next day. 
You huffed and rolled over on the mattress. You were antsy, and a little horny; thinking about what Carmy would do to you if he was there wasn't helping in the slightest. After a while of being just restless you decided to watch some porn and masturbate to get sleepy.
You started teasing over your underwear, vaguely following the vapid introduction of the video. When the couple began fucking in earnest, you touched yourself following the rhythm of their moans. You were getting wet and squirming between the sheets when you heard the front door unlock and open.
"Shit," you cursed. "Carmy?"
"Hey," he called from the hallway.
"You're back early."
"Uncle Jimmy bought out the restaurant for the evening. Forgot to tell you. We set up everything and he sent us home," he explained, then peeked inside the room. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Why?" 
"Dunno," he got close to the bed, "you look flushed," he placed a hand over your forehead, that little wrinkle between his eyebrows showing up immediately. 
You sighed; you couldn't let him worry over nothing just because you were embarrassed.
"Uh- I was watching porn and touching myself," you confessed. You handed him your phone - the screen showed a man and a woman, tastefully lit, fucking over a bed doggy style.
"Ah," he arched his eyebrows.
"I didn't know you would be home early, or I would have definitely waited for you," you bit your lip. He stayed silent for a little while. "Are you mad?"
It wouldn't be the first time that a guy felt a certain way about you watching porn - the argument was mostly about the fact that they were allowed to do it and you weren't.
"No, it's just-" he sat by you. "You never said you liked this," he gestured vaguely at the position.
"Um, I didn't think you'd be into it. When we fucked the first time you said you liked eye contact. This is sort of the opposite," you shrugged helplessly.
"Yeah, but I also fucked you from behind on the kitchen table that one time and it was fun," he reasoned.
"I thought you were only doing it for me," you realized you sounded a little silly but it was the truth. For all your willingness to try new things it had mostly involved positions where you could face each other. And you liked it. Still some secret part of you wondered what it would be like with Carmy.
"I mean, yeah, it started that way but in the end I enjoyed it too," Carmy said earnestly. "Really. I don't- I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me these things."
You blushed. 
"Okay," you nodded. "Okay. Uh. I like being fucked from behind sometimes. Not always but uh- it feels good, you can get a little rough," your already wet underwear got soaked at the thought of Carmy using those strong arms of his to manhandle you a little. 
Without a word, he untied his shoes and got rid of his shirt. Then, he leant over.
"Tell me what to do."
You shivered. 
"Kiss me," you asked and a second later he was all over you, shoving his tongue in your mouth, getting the idea of 'a little rough' and running with it.
You started unbuttoning his trousers, shoving them and his boxers out of the way and he followed suit, tugging at fabric blindly until you were completely bare. Your hand was touching his cock idly, getting him hard.
"Put me face down on the bed," you said against his lips.
He grabbed you by the waist and maneuvered you into position, a little too gently for your taste but it was a start. You got on all fours while he rummaged the bedside table for a condom. 
"Tease me," you pleaded. 
He obliged. His hard cock traced figures over the lips of your pussy, almost pushing in but not quite. He lined up his cock with your entrance. 
"Slow at first, slow." He took his time to fill you up. "Fuuuuuck," you keened. 
There was a sharp inhale behind you and Carmy ran his fingers down your spine, to your hips and moved the last inch in a hard thrust.
"Shit, just like that," you praised. 
It took him a little bit to get the hang of the position, his thrusts cautious and slow. You focused on the feeling of being full of him. You swayed your hips with his cock buried deep inside you, a challenge of sorts. 
"Jesus," he panted, falling into rhythm.
It was still careful and you thrust back into him, desperate, needy.
"Harder, Carm," you whined. 
He growled, getting a good grip on your waist. You moaned, your jaw dropped at the head of his cock grazing your G spot everytime.
"Right there, right there," you reached back for his thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze that turned into you leaving scratch marks on his pale flesh.
"Do you- shit-" he stuttered, overcome with pleasure. "Do you like to have your hair pulled?" 
And you would have caressed his face gently and kissed him sweetly in that moment - he had taken a glimpse at the video and he was devoted to making it real for you. 
Except, well, you were on all fours being fucked senseless and absolutely wild with lust. So instead you grinded into his cock and begged:
"Yes, please, fuck, please!"
He gathered your hair in the nape of your neck and gave a tug that electrified you all the way down to your pussy. A breathy laugh escaped your lips. 
"Good?" he asked.
"So fucking good, keep going," you praised and he thrust harder, every movement pushing you over the edge. "It's so good."
He grabbed your hair harder than before, pulling you until you were on your knees, flush against his chest. You moaned in surprise and bliss. His free hand immediately found your clit and teased it mercilessly until your pussy was fluttering on his cock. 
"Keep going, keep going," you pleaded through your orgasm. 
He held you through it, kissing your neck and shoulders with a tenderness that didn't match the wanton moans and gasps that tickled the side of your face. In your daze, you realized he was holding back for you. Carmy was thoughtful and shy and caring, but he could also be angry and mean and explosive. You knew, you had seen glimpses of him in the kitchen at rush hour. 
"Carm... It's okay."
"Hmm?" It was a desperate sound - his grip on your hips was so tight that you suspected you would wake up with bruises. 
"You can go as fast as you want, as hard as you need, baby," you intertwined your fingers with his. "I'll tell you if you hurt me, just-"
He dragged his teeth down the side of your neck, from your ear to your shoulder. 
"You sure?" he exhaled into your skin.
"Pretty fucking sure," you touched his hair and kissed the side of his face blindly. You went back on all fours and looked back at him seductively. "You've been so good, Carmy, you deserve it."
You knew you were overselling it, but you meant it. Carmy chuckled a little, his fingers softened their grip and caressed the curve of your spine, settling back on your waist. 
With barely any warning, he thrust into you, hard, knocking the wind out of you.
"Oh my God," you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as he made you see stars with every forceful movement. He kept going, his skin clapping on yours, hitting perfectly with each stroke. "Yes, fuck!"
You felt your second orgasm approaching quickly, the punishing pace Carmy set had you gasping for air. You felt your arms give out and suddenly your face was on the comforter, your ass up, and the mattress swaying under the two of you. You squirmed and moaned, and he kept on fucking mercilessly, prolonging your orgasm until it was almost too much to bear, until your pussy was straining from squeezing around his cock. You bit on the comforter to stop yourself from screaming.
Carmy bent over on top of you, his cock still drilling into your pussy. He twisted around to kiss you - it was all teeth and tongue and desperation. Your right hand reached underneath to touch your clit. The pleasure and pain had blurred and you were pretty sure your last orgasm was turning into a third one. 
"So good, so fucking good, Carm," you mumbled into his mouth, squirming, feeling his sweat mix with yours. 
"Fuck, I'm gonna-" he started and you nodded eagerly. 
"Yes, please, come with me," you panted, rolling your eyes when his hips started moving even faster than before. The sounds he uttered would have been enough to have you coming but there was also his hand on your throat, and his cock inside your pussy...
You came at the same time with a series of grunts and a long, high-pitched moan. His hips kept rutting into yours, making you tremble with pleasure for a while longer, not a drop of that delicious electricity gone to waste.
"You okay?" he asked, his breathing labored and his lips kissing your shoulders and spine.
"Yeah," you sighed and chuckled, satisfied. You reached out behind you to caress the nape of his neck, wet with sweat. "You?"
"Yeah." He nodded and, after a quick kiss on your shoulder, he rolled over, leaving your pussy empty and wrecked. He threw the condom to the trash and laid back, looking at you. You whined a little as you untangled from your position, thighs cramping, to lie by his side.
"You sure I wasn't too rough?" he tilted his head, cupping your face. 
"It was amazing, Carm," you gave him a gentle kiss. "I think I got a little carried away, though," you added softly.
"It's fine - I liked it," he covered his face to hide a grin.
You smiled relieved and got closer to him, claiming your place between his arms.
"Thank you," you said against his collarbone. He hummed into your hair, tugging on the comforter to cover you both with it. "Carmy? Do you have one?"
"Hmm?"
"A fantasy you haven't told me about because you thought I wouldn't be into it?" you asked. 
He stayed silent for a while and you looked up in search of his eyes. 
"I- uh- I've been wanting you to sit on my face for months," he gulped, avoiding your gaze and the shocked face you were doing. "I didn't say anything 'cause you get all nervous and start apologizing when you squeeze me with your thighs..."
"Well, I don't want to hurt you!" you replied defensively.
"I don't mind," he blushed. "I'm kind of into it."
"Shit, Carmy," you giggled, settling back in his embrace. He held you closer. "We're definitely doing it, don't worry."
"Not now though," he said, completely exhausted.
You laughed. "No, not now," you repeated, falling asleep to the beat of his heart.
~
"Come on, Carmy! Come out!" you urged him from outside the changing room. 
"The pants are too long," he complained. "I look fucking stupid."
He opened the curtain and walked out, wearing the vintage tuxedo you had chosen for him - midnight blue with satin accents.
"You look very handsome," you beamed, straightening the lapels of his blazer. He allowed himself a small smile.
"Just- the pants," he insisted. There were about three inches of extra fabric pooling at his feet. 
"Baby, you do know that clothes can be tailored," it wasn't a question - his slacks and his favorite coat had all been professionally shortened to fit him, you knew.
"Yeah," he said, defeated.
"C'mere," you guided him to stand on a stool. You knelt by him, folding the fabric by his ankles and pinning it carefully. "What's this about?"
"I'm going to fuck it up," he said, looking at the ceiling. "I can't do that to Sydney. Let her down again," his eyes had turned a little glassy.
"Hey," you gave his calf a gentle caress. "It's gonna be okay. You're just introducing her. She's very excited about this."
He cleared his throat. "I know." That's the problem.
"Imagine if a friend had given you your award," you prompted. "Someone you looked up to, someone as excited as you were to get it."
He hummed, biting on his lip nervously.
"The only way you'd let her down would be to not show up," you said softly, then stood up to meet his gaze. "And you are showing up, right?" you cupped his face lovingly. 
He nodded. He was too tall to reach standing on the stool, so you tugged on the lapels of his suit to kiss him.
"Good," you said against his lips. "I don't want to miss it - I already chose a dress for it."
"Can I see?" he asked.
"No. It's a surprise."
"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" he said in mock annoyance.
You smiled, walking to the counter and returning with two options of bow ties and placing them near his face. 
Just then, Richie walked in. 
"Hi!" you greeted him. "Help us pick."
"Right one," he pointed at the wider tie. 
"I agree," you said.
"Looking like a real boy, cousin!" he teased.
"Fuck you," Carmy replied without bite.
"Chef Sydney asked me to pick up her dress," Richie said. "Ever since she got that James Beard invite thing she's become such a diva."
"She kind of deserves it, though," you said. "Here you go," you handed him the gown, a seventies number with a plunging back, inside a suit bag.
"Is he gonna be ready on time?" Richie asked you.
"Count on it," you reassured him. 
“Alright!” Richie hollered from the door. "See you tonight, kids!"
The drive back to Carmy's apartment had been quiet, with him only breaking the silence to lend you his coat. His hand was on your thigh, and you felt calm and safe.
"So, was it like this when you got your award?" you asked. 
"Dunno, didn't go to the ceremony," he said blankly.
"Why?" 
"You know me - talking in public and shit," he shrugged.
"You were scared," you realized.
He hummed, not admitting to it but not denying it either. 
"You were good tonight," you squeezed his hand. "Syd looked very happy."
He smiled. "She did."
Carmy let go of your hand for a minute to park the car, his arm around your headrest.
"You look very hot when you do that," you flirted as he turned off the engine.
"Shut up," he laughed and got out of the car, racing to open the door for you. 
You walked to the apartment hand in hand, enjoying the quiet of the night. You returned his coat once you were inside, helping him turn the lights on.
"You look very pretty," he said.
You leaned into his space and kissed him, the many petticoats of your fifties dress rustling as he brought you closer. 
"Thank you," you whispered against Carmy's lips. You tugged on the ends of his bowtie, undone from hours ago, making him look disheveled and beautiful. You kissed a while longer, his mouth gentle against yours, and his hair going back to that familiar mess. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your waist and lifting your skirt a little.
"Wha- what's this?" he asked, his palm landing on your upper thigh. 
You smiled and turned around instead of responding. "Help me with the zip."
He did. Opening the dress carefully, caressing your sides and shoulders as he helped you get out of it. Under the dress, you were wearing a lacy bra, panties, tights and garters. 
"Holy shit," Carmy said, covering his mouth. 
"They're vintage. You like them?" you asked, your hands brushing over the clasps on the garters, a little self-conscious with how he was staring.
"Do I-? Fuck."
He lunged forward and kissed you hungrily, holding onto the back of your thighs until your legs were around his waist and he could carry you to the bedroom. He placed you on the bed and he cupped your face, a pleading look in his blue eyes. 
"Can I- Can we do it tonight, baby? Will you- Jesus- Will you fuck my face?"
It sounded like a confession, the words getting stuck in his tongue like it was something shameful. You placed your hands over his and nodded, feeling a familiar heat pool in your belly and your chest. 
"Yes."
He beamed. You dragged him by the bowtie to lie on the pillows, while you straddled his hips. After he had told you about his fantasy, you looked for some videos to see what he was talking about, what he wanted and what you'd be willing to do. 
"I don't want to hurt you, Carm," you said gently, caressing his chest and unbuttoning his shirt. "Is it okay- Would it be okay if we don't do it too rough?"
You felt a little guilty, since he had been so open to fuck you hard when you had asked him to. 
"It’s okay. You can do as much as you want," he said, his hands caressing your thighs, tracing the edge of your garters. "I don't want you to, like, break my nose or anything," you laughed together. 
"Good, I like your nose," you said softly. He sat up to kiss you and you helped him get undressed, throwing his clothes somewhere across the room. After a while of making out and grinding on your clothed pussy, he guided you upwards, to the headboard, while he kissed down your body - your chest, your belly, your hip, until he was right underneath you.
"Hi," he said, dissipating some of the tension. You grinned.
Carmy's face between your legs was a sight you couldn't get enough of, and the change of perspective was really doing it for you. His eyes were half-lidded as he kissed the inside of your thighs. His tattooed fingers moved your panties to the side; he had insisted you kept everything on. 
"I'll tap your thigh three times if I want out," he said; his breath on your pussy made you shiver.
"Okay," you swayed your hips a little, already worked up from just thinking about it. "Fuck. I don't know how to do this," you said, holding on to the headboard, your knees by the sides of his face. "Promise you'll tell me if something's wrong," you said, locking eyes with Carmy. 
"Promise," he said. 
He pulled on your hips until your pussy was just over his mouth. He took a deep inhale and started lapping at your wetness, small licks at your clit and long strokes up and down. You rolled your eyes and let out a long moan. As he grew more confident, he held on tighter to your thighs, pulling you downwards, keeping you close. 
He sucked on your entrance, which felt nice, but it would drive you insane if it was on your clit. Gently, you grinded backwards, until his mouth was right where you wanted it. 
"Holy fuck," you mumbled, staying there, back arched, while his hands caressed every inch of your legs, his touch over the tights making you hum with pleasure. "That feels so nice, Carm, so nice."
He kept sucking diligently until you were on the edge of your release and then let go. You sighed, frustrated. 
Carmy went back to licking gently and kissing over your pussy, almost making out with you down there. You ran one of your hands through his hair, caressing, trying to return even a fraction of the pleasure he was giving you. He tugged on one of your garters and let go, spanking your thigh. You chuckled, loving the feeling. He went faster, humming into your pussy. You squirmed and held on tighter to the headboard, still determined to not lose control. Suddenly, he stopped sucking on you, gently biting on your thighs instead. 
"Use me," he said, and then went back to sucking on your entrance. 
When you tilted your hips backwards, he froze, making you grind again and again. A glance behind let you know he was touching his cock and groaning. He liked it. 
You shifted a little, finding a comfortable position and started riding his face in earnest, the tip of his nose grazing your clit and his tongue fully out, caressing every fold and nerve. It was so good.
"Oh, fuck," you let out desperate noises, the beginnings of a delicious orgasm building in your belly. "Caaarmyyy," you dragged the vowels of his name into a high pitched sound.
He hummed again, vibrating into you. You could feel his right arm picking up speed on his cock. 
When he went back to sucking, you grabbed his face with both hands and kept him there, on your clit until you came with a scream, too caught up in ecstasy to worry that you were squeezing the sides of his head with your thighs. Everything was white, hot, and electric.
"Fuck," he mumbled, neglecting his cock to squeeze your ass and hips, licking every drop of arousal you gave him.  
"You okay?" you asked from above, panting heavily.
"Yes, perfect," he replied, his eyes wide with lust. He was still kissing and touching greedily. "Turn around."
You did. His hands guided you back above his mouth, only now your clit was on his chin and you had a clear view of his erection. You leaned forward to touch his cock, give it a couple of pumps. Underneath you, Carmy squirmed with pleasure but pulled you back on his face, away from his cock. You didn't have time to argue - his mouth was devouring you, worshiping you. The wet noises he was making were driving you insane. 
His right hand gave your pussy a gentle caress, taking your arousal to use it as lube to pump on his cock.
"Holy shit, Carm," you gasped - watching him, listening to him, feeling him. It was all too much and before you realized it you were coming again all over his chin. "Fuck."
The orgasm was short, leaving you more frustrated than anything else, especially compared to the one you had before. When Carmy stopped licking, you pleaded:
"One more, can I have one more, please?" 
"Yes," he sighed, warm air hitting your pussy and lighting you up again. 
You leaned forward, bracing on his chest while he made you lose control once more. You used the position to play with his nipples, enjoying the feeling of him moaning into you. He snapped your garters once again in retaliation, and it made you shiver. Your grinding was becoming frantic, the hand on his cock echoed your rhythm. You moved backward until his tongue was right on your clit and his nose poked lightly at your entrance. You were so close to your release it hurt.
"Right th- right there, baby," you said, one of your hands caressing his chest and the other playing with your own breasts, staring at Carmy's weeping cock. 
It built up beautifully - his moans with yours, your nails teasing over lace, his fingers holding tight to the flesh of your hips. And his mouth, fuck, his mouth. 
You came with a scream, thighs shaking around Carmy's head, watching him come too while still feeling the aftershocks yourself, still grinding lightly on his nose and chin.
Slowly, you dismounted, feeling like you were made of jello, weightless and giggly. Once you got face to face with Carmy you found he was smiling too. Gently, you fixed his hair and wiped his face with a tissue. You handed him another for the mess on his stomach and chest.
After, you kissed his chin, his nose and his lips multiple times, getting the tangy taste of your arousal on your tongue too.
"Thank you," you said, feeling giddy and satisfied.
He ran his fingers down your side, until they landed on your tights.
"Thank you," Carmy said, arching an eyebrow that seemed to say 'This was my fantasy, remember?'
You smiled wide and kissed him one last time. 
"Shower?" you proposed. 
He nodded and followed you. 
~
[Part 6]
~
@th3h0nkz
271 notes · View notes
anundyingfidelity · 4 months
Text
NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII
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Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.
Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.
Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).
Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.
Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘
GEN MASTERLIST!
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I. BEYOND
The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.
Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.
"Finally, you're awake."
Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.
"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.
"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"
"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.
"I did not ask you for mercy."
"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.
"Who are you?"
"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.
"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.
"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."
He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.
"You're no match for me, woman."
"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.
His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"
So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.
"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."
With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.
"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.
You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.
"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."
"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.
"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."
"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"
You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"
The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.
After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.
You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.
"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.
"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."
He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.
"Are you from Korell?"
"The book gave it away, didn't it."
"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."
"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."
Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.
"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.
He laughed softly, going back to his reading.
"Thank you for the idea."
That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.
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II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST
Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.
Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.
He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.
"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.
Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.
"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."
And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.
"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.
"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"
He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."
"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...
"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.
"What? No! I would never-"
"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.
"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."
You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.
"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.
"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.
"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.
"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.
"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."
"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.
"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"
You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.
Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.
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III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW
According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.
However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.
"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.
"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."
"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."
"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...
"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.
"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."
Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.
"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."
"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.
"The seventeenth."
"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"
"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."
You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.
"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"
He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."
"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."
Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.
"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."
"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."
Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.
"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."
You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.
"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."
He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.
"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."
"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."
You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.
"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."
"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."
"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.
"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."
"You're not answering my question."
You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.
"I use this.”
"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.
"Smart. Yes, sort of."
Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."
"About that, uh, we can't."
He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"
He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.
"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."
Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.
There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.
"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.
"What?"
"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."
You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.
That was the first time you gave in to him completely.
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IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED
You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.
"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."
The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.
"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.
"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.
He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.
His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.
"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.
"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."
"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.
After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.
The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.
"What's in your head?" you whispered.
Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.
"You."
A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.
You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.
"I won."
"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"
You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.
Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.
"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.
You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.
He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.
"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."
You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."
"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"
"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."
He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.
"And how is it?" he said.
"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."
"Does it hurt now?"
You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.
"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."
Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.
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V. VOYAGE
It was the thirtieth day on the ship.
Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.
Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.
"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.
"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.
"You're worried."
"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."
Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.
"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.
"No!"
"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."
"Because now ending me is ending you too!"
Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.
"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."
"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.
"How much time do we have?"
"I don't know, a couple of days at last."
"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."
You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.
"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became
He nodded. "Yes, my love.”
Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.
He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.
You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.
Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.
You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.
"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.
He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.
You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.
"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."
He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.
Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.
He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.
"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."
You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.
You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.
"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.
He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.
He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.
You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.
"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.
He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.
Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.
"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."
He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.
"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."
"Thanks, Cleon."
Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.
When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.
"Did you-? Ah!"
The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.
"A black hole..."
"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.
"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."
After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.
"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.
"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.
"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.
"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."
He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.
"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”
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mariasont · 1 month
Text
Our Minds Entwined------------------------
ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6
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Aaron Hotchner x Original Character x Spencer Reid
in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest youngest member
Chapter Five:
Evelyn and Genevieve stepped into the haven of nostalgia for them. The walls, adorned with vintage photographs and local memorabilia, were faded brick and wood. Laughter bubbled up from tables around them, mingling with the soft strum of a guitar somewhere in the background. The air was rich with the scent of garlic and oregano, and the warm glow of string lights above cast a soft inviting glow overhead as she slipped into the warmth of the dimly lit corner booth.
Genevieve's eyes, sharp and observant, had the kind of clarity that came from her experience on the force, yet they sparkled with the same intensity that had driven her to become a cop in the first place. Her skin had a sun-kissed glow, a testament to countless hours under the Californian sun, but it was offset by a certain weariness that spoke of sleepless nights and too much coffee.
"So, tell me everything, Evie," she coaxed, leaning in. "How's life treating you at the BAU?"
Evelyn's smile was a burst of sunshine, lighting up her features with an infectious joy. She fiddled absentmindedly with her spoon. "It's been intense, but amazing," she replied. "Though, I must admit, it's refreshing not to be around people who can deduce your life story based on your coffee order, let alone how you're feeling before you've even fully woken up."
Genevieve laughed, her eyebrow arching in playful accusation. "Tell me about it, you've been doing it to me since we were twelve," she said, her eyes narrowing with mock severity. "But anyway, tell me about these infamous coworkers. Anyone... interesting?"
Evelyn's enthusiasm bubbled over as she began to gush about her colleagues. "Oh, they're incredible! JJ--she's got this uncanny ability to connect with victims, and Penelope, our tech goddess, can unravel anyone's dirty secrets with a click of a button. Morgan--he's like the best protective older brother, Rossi--he's like a walking encyclopedia of criminal behavior. And Prentiss, she can read a room like no other, she's been through a lot, but it only makes her stronger."
She paused, taking a sip of her wine, her cheeks flushing slightly. "And then there's Hotch. He's our unit chief, you know? So poised, so... commanding. And Reid," she sighed dreamily, "he's just a genius. His mind works like no one else, and he's got this awkward charm that's just..."
Genevieve smirked, leaning in, accusation on her tongue. "Sounds like someone's got a bit of a crush."
Evelyn's eyes widened, and she nearly choked on her wine. "What? No, I mean--they're just my coworkers, well, and my boss."
"Uh-huh," Genvieve teased, winking. "Just coworkers. Got it."
The laughter was cut short by the shrill ring of Evelyn's phone. She fished it out of her purse, the screen flashing Hotch. Her heart skipped a beat as she answered, "Gideon here."
"Evelyn, wheels up in 20. Kidnapping case in Rapid City, South Dakota. Two children, siblings, taken from their backyard. Local PD found an abandoned car with possible evidence. I need you here, ASAP." Hotch's voice retained a steady composure, yet there was an undercurrent of urgency that subtly underscored each word, compelling immediate attention.
A shadow of disappointment passed over Evelyn's features as she offered Genvieve a wordless apology. "Understood, on my way, sir."
She stood up, throwing on her purse with practiced haste. "Sorry, Gen, duty calls. Raincheck?"
"Go. Those kids need you," Genevieve said, her tone laced with mixture of pride and concern.
With a smile that conveyed her thanks, Evelyn hastened to the exit. As she swung the door open, she couldn't resist yelling over her shoulder, "Just coworkers!"
--
Evelyn burst through the doors of the conference room. The sharp click of her heels punctuated her every step, commanding the room's attention. She glided past the long table, her dress--a cascade of midnight blue that clung to her like a second skin--captured the soft light, giving her an ethereal glow. Her hair cascaded down in a tumble of soft girls that gently brushed her shoulders, giving her an air of relaxed grace. As she moved a hint of vanilla trailed behind her, a delicate perfume that lingered in the air, turning heads as she passed.
"Hi, everyone, sorry I'm late," she chirped, her go bag landing with a decisive thud. "You would not believe the traffic, and then I--,"
"Whoa, mama, someone's bringing the heat tonight!" Garcia interrupted, her eyes twinkled with delight, a grin spreading across her face as she took in Evelyn's appearance.
Morgan's laughter was a low rumble, his posture relaxed into the chair, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Damn straight. What's the occasion, doll face?" he teased.
Evelyn flashed a playful grin, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, you know, just saving the world in high heels and haute couture," she joked. "But no, I was out with a friend, didn't have time to change. I'll do that on the plane."
Hotch's penetrating stare, typically reserved for dissecting the minds of unsubs, now settled on Evelyn with an unspoken intensity. His deep brown eyes, usually so adept at observation, seemed to capture every nuance--the graceful sway of her hips, the faint scent of her perfume. It was a gaze that missed no detail, yet the depth of his focus was unusual, a quiet deviation from his usual professional detachment.
Spencer, usually lost in thought, his mind a labyrinth of facts and theories. But now, his attention was undeniably on Evelyn. His eyes held an analytical sharpness to them, but this time they held a different kind of curiosity, one that lingered on the ample flesh of her chest.
Evelyn, caught in the crossfire of their stares, felt a blush ignite her freckled cheeks.
JJ's curiosity piqued, and she leaned forward, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Oh, a friend?" Her voice was light, but the twinkle in her eye suggested she was fishing for a story colorful than just a casual catch-up.
Hotch's brows lifted almost imperceptibly. For a fleeting moment, a shadow of something unfamiliar flickered across his features--a tightness around his eyes, a slight downturn of his mouth. It was a sensation he couldn't place, an odd twinge that gnawed at this composure. He quickly schooled his expression back into neutrality, but the momentary lapse did not go unnoticed.
Spencer, on the other hand, was less adept at masking his reaction. His eyes, usually so full of thought, now reflected a clear disturbance, as if the mere suggestion of Evelyn being on a date had disrupted the very logic he held dear. His gaze lingered on her just a beat too long.
Evelyn's laughter was light, a clear note that brushed away any hint of scandal. "No, an actual friend. She's in from LA," she clarified, her tone breezy and unconcerned, dispelling the playful suspicions with a wave of her hand.
The room settled back into routine as JJ's gaze landed on Hotch, who appeared adrift in thought. "Hotch?" she called out, her voice a gentle tether pulling him back to the present.
Hotch cleared his throat, a stark interruption to the silence, a clear sign he was wrenching himself from the distraction. "Sorry, right," he stammered, a falter in his usually unwavering voice. His eyes, which had been tracing the contours of Evelyn's form, snapped back to the case file with a newfound intensity. "Let's get started..."
--
Evelyn stepped out of the bathroom, hastily adjusting her blouse. In her rush, she didn't notice Spencer standing right outside the door. With a sudden thud, their bodies met in an awkward tangle. Evelyn's hands flew up in surprise, grazing Spencer's chest as she steadied herself.
"Oh! Sorry, Spence," she exclaimed with a bright smile.
Spencer, equally taken aback, managed a flustered smile. "You're fine," he assured her, his voice a notch higher than usual as he stepped into the bathroom, his gaze lingering just a moment longer on the disarray of her attire.
Evelyn, straightened up, smoothing her clothes once more before taking a deep breath and heading back to her step.
Evelyn took in the sight of her team, already gathered and poised for the briefing. With a subtle clearing of her throat, JJ commanded attention, her fingers deftly pressing the remote. A soft click echoed in the hushed room as the screen flickered to life.
"Alright, team, we have a situation in Rapid City. Two children, siblings aged 7 and 9, were taken from their backyard near Sheridan Lake Road. The unsub left a clown mask at the scene. Local PD found an abandoned car three blocks away with candy wrappers and a handwritten note saying, 'Let's play a game'. We need to establish a profile and find these kids before the unsub escalates."
Hotch's voice was firm, his orders clear as the team prepared for landing, Reid emerging from the bathroom as he spoke. "Reid, Gideon, once we're on the ground, I want you two to head to the last known location of the children. Look for anything the local PD might have missed. After that, go to the local police station and assist them with victimology."
Hotch's phone rings. He answers with a curt. "Hotchner," and listens intently. The team watches him, reading the shift in expression as he receives the update from the local PD.
He ends the call. "The local PD has a lead. A performer known for his clown acts at children's parties was just taken into custody. They found evidence linking him to the abduction site. So change of plans. Reid, Evelyn, you're with me. We're going to interrogate the suspect. The rest of you, coordinate with the local teams. We need to cover all his known locations and find those kids."
--
The BAU's SUV glides to a stop in front of a local police station, a low building that seems to buzz with the day's frenetic energy. Hotch, with his characteristic stride, escorts Evelyn and Reid through the maze of bustling officers and ringing phones to a briefing room. The room is a testament to the case at hand; walls plastered with maps, timelines, and the faces of the missing children staring back at them. Hotch distributes the case files--thick filled with witness statements and background checks.
"Here's everything we have on the suspect," Hotch begins, "Known as 'Pogo the Clown' at parties, real name Jeffery Willis. No prior record of violence, but plenty of complaints about his behavior around kids."
Evelyn flips through the pages, absorbing the details. Hotch pivots towards her, his gaze steady and assessing, "Evelyn, you're new, but you've got a fresh perspective. That's valuable. Reid will take the lead, but I want you to watch the suspect. Look for inconsistencies in his story, any sign of deception."
Reid nods, his eyes already scanning the suspect's history. "We'll start with a cognitive interview, try to unlock any repressed memories or details he's not consciously aware of. It's a technique we use to get past the lies."
Hotch explains further. "Willis, he's got an ego, sees himself as a performer, above others. He's likely to underestimate both of you."
"Reid, he'll see you as harmless, someone he can easily outmaneuver. And Evelyn, he might dismiss your authority due to his preconceptions. But he's wrong, and that gives us leverage. Use his biases against him. Make him feel superior; it'll make him talk. He'll want to boast, to prove he's the smartest in the room. That's when he'll slip up."
Reid moves with a purposeful stride, his silhouette cutting through the dimly lit corridor towards the interrogation room. The gears in his mind turn swiftly, already sifting through the myriad of psychological strategies that might give him an edge. Evelyn started to trail behind him, her footsteps a soft echo to his confident march.
Hotch emerges before her, a figure of quiet authority. He positions himself before Evelyn, an unspoken barrier, his expression etched with a gentle concern that belies his firm stance. "Evelyn," he begins, his voice a low thrum, "this isn't going to be an easy interrogation. Willis is a performer; he thrives on attention and control. I need to know you're ready for this."
"I've trained for this. I've got this, Hotch," she lifts her chin, her gaze ascending to meet his.
Hotch regards her intently, his scrutiny thorough as if he could peel back the layers of her resolve. Yet, he finds no fissure of doubt. He grants her a slow, affirming nod. "Alright," he concedes, his voice a low rumble. "Remember, he's going to try and get under your skin, to throw you off balance." His proximity is close, almost invasive, but she didn't feel that way. "Stay focused and use his arrogance to your advantage."
Evelyn's head tilts up a fraction more, her eyes never leaving his. She nods. "I will."
Hotch's approval comes not just in a nod but in the subtle relaxation of his posture, a silent concession of her capability. He steps aside. As she passes, the air seems to hum with the vanishing of his body heat.
The interrogation room is stark, illuminated only by the unforgiving glow of overhead lights that cast long, dramatic shadows across the room. Jeffrey Willis is a disconcerting figure at the metal table, his clown makeup running in haphazard streaks, giving him a grotesque appearance. His eyes dart about, betraying a nervous energy as his leg trembles rhythmically beneath the table.
Reid steps into the room with an air of composed assurance, his intellect a sharpened blade ready to dissect the situation. Evelyn follows, her silhouette rigid against the doorway, her expression meticulously neutral. They take their seats, Reid assuming the lead with a gaze that never wavers from Willis.
"Jeffery, I'm Special Agent Reid, and this is Special Agent Gideon," Reid begins, his voice steady, "We're with the FBI, the behavioral analysis unit. We're here to talk about the children."
Willis' response is a smirk, his eyes alight with a disturbing spark of amusement. "Ah, the children," he drawls, a perverse delight curling the edges of his words. "They do so enjoy their games, don't they? High stakes make it all the more thrilling." His gaze shifts to Evelyn, taunting. "Isn't that right, sweetie? Or do they not trust you to speak?"
Evelyn's silence is her armor, her stillness a counter to his provocation. Beside her, Reid's jaw sets, a subtle clench that speaks volumes of his restraint. "Let's keep the focus where it belongs, Jeffery," he directs firmly.
"You ever been to the carnival? I used to love it. The toys, the sound of the water," Willis mused, leaning back as if the metal chair could transport him.
His chuckle breaks the reverie. "My mother, she loved games too," he continues, the smirk returning as he locks eyes with Evelyn. "The best ones, until she disappeared when I was sixteen." His gaze is probing, challenging. "But you, with a face like yours, life must've been easy, huh? Everything handed to you on a silver platter."
Evelyn's reaction is subtle, a slight narrowing of the eyes that betrays a flicker of emotion. Yet, she holds her silence, allowing Reid to handle the waters of Willis' provocations.
Willis edges closer, the space between them charged with his malice. "Or perhaps," he hisses, the words laced with spite, "mommy get sick of the guys giving you more attention than her?"
It's a low blow, one that slices through the air and lands precisely where he intended. Evelyn's facade falters, a minute shift, but it's there. "My mother is irrelevant to this," she retorts, her tone sharper, icier than she means for it to be.
From his vantage point behind the one-way mirror, Hotch catches the fleeting lapse. With a swift stride, he's in the room, his presence commanding. "Agent Gideon, a word," he commands, his voice leaving now room for argument.
Evelyn rises, her gaze lingering on Willis with a silent challenge before she pivots, her heels clicking a sharp retreat. She steps out, the chill of the corridor seeping into her bones, but it's the weight of Willis's words and her own slip that sends a shiver down her spine.
"Hotch, I--" she starts, her voice barely above a whisper, but Hotch is already there, his presence a wall of contained frustration.
"Agent," he interjects, his tone clipped, the word a reprimand in itself. "What did I say about maintaining control?" His proximity is unsettling, the heat of his frustration palpable, yet it's the closeness that somehow steadies her, sends a shiver down her spine, causing her thighs to clench together.
"I'm aware, and I apologize. It won't happen again," Evelyn responds, her words tumbling out in haste, her apology laced with urgency as she seeks to convey the clue Willis unwittingly dropped. "But I--"
Hotch is relentless, his words slicing through her attempts. "We can't afford distractions. There are two children out there; focus is imperative--"
"But the carnival," Evelyn cut in, her voice firm despite the brief hesitation, aware she's overstepping driven by instinct. "I'm sorry, but he talked about a carnival his mother would take him to. Have there been any carnivals in town lately."
For a moment, Hotch's stern facade falters, his eyes softening, betraying a flicker of curiosity. "Check with Garcia," he concedes, his voice still firm but the edge blunted.
--
Garcia's sanctuary of screens cast a soft glow in the dim room, her fingers a blur as they dance across the keyboard. "Nothing," she breathes out, the word laced with a tinge of defeat. "No carnivals, fairs, or anything similar within a 50-mile radius."
Reid's voice filters through the phone, tinged with concern as he leans in close over Evelyn's shoulder, almost whispering. "Did he grow up here? Maybe there's a connection to his past."
A pause, then Garcia's voice, distant yet clear. "No, grew up in a small town in Ohio--Millersport, near Buckeye Lake."
Reid's mind races. "Carnivals? Anything of the sort there?" he presses, hopeful.
The clacking of keys halts, a momentary silence before Garcia's voice returns, tinged with resignation. "It's a dead end. No recent events, nothing."
Evelyn chimes in. "He mentioned the sound of water, didn't he? It was deliberate, specific. Maybe it's less about an actual carnival and more about a place that felt like one to him."
A collective pause blankets the team. Garcia resumed her search. "Got something," she announces, a triumphant lilt to her voice. "An old cotton mill, nestled rise beside--get this--a carnival supply shop. It's about ten minutes from you guys."
"And here's the icing on the cake," Garcia continues, "his mother, Reyna Willis, was employed there. I'm sending you guys the address now."
--
The BAU team arrives at the desolate cotton mill, its dilapidated structure casting an ominous shadow in the fading light. Evelyn's heart pounds against her ribs, fear etched on her face. They move cautiously, guns drawn, the silence punctuated only by the soft crunch.
"Stay sharp." Hotch's command is a low murmur.
Evelyn nods at Hotch's words, paired with Morgan, as they make their way through the creaking corridors. The air is thick with dust. Room by room, they clear the mill, the tension mounting with each passing second.
Then, a soft whimper breaks the silence. Evelyn's head snaps towards the sound, her training taking over. She signals Morgan and approaches the door. With a gentle push, it swings open, revealing a small, frightened girl, nestled in the shadows.
Evelyn holsters her weapon, her stance softening as she kneels to the child's level. "Hey, it's okay, you're safe now," she whispers, her voice a soothing balm as the child curls into her side, her sobs muffled against Evelyn's shoulder, "you've been so brave."
"In here!" Morgan's call, firm and clear, cuts through the hush.
Hotch and Reid rush in, relief flooding their faces as they take in the scene. Meanwhile the sound of a relieved shout echoes through the mill. "We've got him! The boy's here!" Prentiss calls out from another room.
--
As the team wraps up the case, Hotch finds himself inadvertently watching Evelyn. She's a picture of compassion, the child in her arms so natural. There's something about this scene that stirs a warmth within him, an unfamiliar flutter that he can't quite place but pushes to the back of his mind.
He's always known she'd be good at this job, but this is different. It's hard to teach that. The way her eyes soften, the gentle tilt of her head as she whispers reassurances. It's a side of her he hasn't seen yet, one that didn't fit into the neat compartments of his professional demeanor.
Hotch feels a pull, an inexplicable draw to the tenderness she exudes. It's disconcerting, this reaction--like a chord struck deep within him. He watches her, the soft glow of the setting sun casting a halo around her silhouette.
He clears his throat, stepping closer, the gravel beneath his feet a subtle announcement of his approach. "We're about to head out," he says, his voice steady and low, not wanting to disturb the girl, her eyes fluttering in sleep.
Evelyn looks up, her eyes reflecting the last rays of the day. "I'll stay with until her parents arrive, if that's okay," she responds, her voice a low whisper. "She just fell asleep; I don't want to wake her."
Hotch nods, understanding her decision without a word. "We'll see you back at the jet, then," he says.
Evelyn smiles. "I'll be there," she assures him, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary before returning to the child in her arms.
--
The cabin lights flicker, a soft glow against the encroaching darkness outside. Evelyn rises from her seat, navigating the narrow aisle with a practiced ease. Evelyn is suddenly caught off guard by an unexpected jolt of turbulence. She lurches forward, her balance betraying her, and without warning she finds herself tumbling into Reid's lap. Her ass landed on his crotch as her lips fell open in surprise. He let out a soft groan, his hands instinctively reaching out to stabilize her. The rest of the team, deep in slumber, remained oblivious to the sudden closeness between the two.
"Whoa, are you okay?" Reid asked, his voice rising in pitch as his fingers dug into her hips.
Evelyn's breath hitches, her heart racing from the fall, the warmth of his hands, and the feeling of his crotch pressed firmly against her backside. She let out a giggle in an attempt to shake the feeling. "Gosh, sorry, Reid," she stammered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
For a moment, they are both still, the silence enveloping them, their eyes locked in a gaze that speaks volumes more than the words could. Then, as quickly as the moment came, it passed. Evelyn carefully extricates herself from his lap, her movements hurried, eager to put some distance between them.
next
taglist: @nonamevenus @aceofspades190
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burntheedges · 2 months
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Hi Kate!
I'm back with my Ask games again!
This time we have a spring based prompts theme. You get a spring prompt and a character and I'd like to know your head canon/immediate thoughts on the combination.
Character: Din Djarin
Prompt: lake
With love,
El
El! the way this immediately set my brain spinning!
anyway, here we go, I hope you enjoy this. I made myself laugh. lol
A day at the lake
Din Djarin x gn!reader | 1006 words | rating: gen | ao3 tags/warnings: make sure to do your research before going to strange planets, I guess, the Razor Crest is still with us, not betaed
or, Din tries (and fails) to relax on vacation
Din stepped out of the Razor Crest with his hands on his hips, sweeping his gaze over the view in front of him. He huffed a tiny disbelieving breath, too quiet to be picked up by his helmet’s modulator. He shifted his weight and shook his head.
It was, by any measure, idyllic. The sunlight reflected off the small ripples in the surface lake in dazzling patterns. A gentle breeze rustled the colorful flowers and grasses that lined the narrow shore, itself covered in pastel orange and pink pebbles. The mountains across the lake that formed this bowl-shaped valley had extremely picturesque snow glinting on their peaks. As he stood there, taking it all in, he heard the songs and trills of 4 different birds. A trio of small, colorful winged insects floated by the edge of the ramp of the ship, fluttering in the breeze. He watched a shiny fish jump out of the water and do a flip before smoothly slipping back into the lake.
He blinked.
When you’d said you wanted to take a vacation, just the three of you, he’d remembered hearing nice things about this planet. It had been nearby, barely a system over from their last destination. And it really had looked nice as he flew the Crest into land. But looking at it now, he realized it was too beautiful. Way too beautiful. 
He didn’t trust it.
Din thought back, trying to remember what he’d read about the fauna on this planet. Or maybe strange weather patterns? Was it extreme temperature fluctuations? Paradise couldn’t actually exist, not without people taking advantage of it. There had to be a catch.
He walked slowly down the ramp as he looked for a sign of you and his son. It didn’t take him long to spot you.
You were both sitting on the shore of the lake, about 35 meters to the right of the ship. Right as he turned towards you Grogu tossed a small pebble into the lake, and the sound it made when it hit the water – kerplunk – sent the child into a fit of giggles. Din watched as you joined him, letting his eyes trace the shape of your smile and the outline of your shoulders, relaxed and at ease. Hidden within the privacy of his helmet, he smiled.
He started to walk towards you, still carefully scanning your surroundings with every sensor and setting his helmet had to offer. 
Nothing.
Brow furrowed, he stepped onto the beach about 10 meters away from where you were sitting, and you and Grogu looked up and smiled at him. He smiled back in spite of his growing conviction that nowhere could be this perfect.
“Din!” You called out, grinning. “Look at this place!” 
I’ve been looking, he wanted to say, and I don’t trust it.
“Isn’t it almost too good to be true?” You continued, incredulous, as a frog-like amphibian hopped just out of Grogu’s reach into the lake and he squealed. 
Din nodded as he stepped up beside you. “There has to be something wrong with it.” He knew he sounded judgmental and wary, but he couldn’t help it.
You threw your head back and laughed. “I knew you’d say that.” You reached out to gently poke his leg. “Can’t just take the win, huh?”
He was certain you could tell he was smiling. He sank smoothly to sit next to you. “It’s too nice. Nothing is this nice, cyar’ika, not for free. Not without a catch.”
You shrugged. “Maybe it’s just too far out of the way of any of the main trade routes. Maybe there’s a season of ridiculous weather we’re lucky to be missing.”
Din tilted his head, amused, and reached out to tickle Grogu's side gently. “Maybe there are giant, man-eating frogs that are creeping up on us now, as we speak.” You laughed again at his words, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Grogu made an offended noise and poked his father in the knee. 
“That’s right, Grogu, your father is being very silly right now.” 
Din huffed to hide a laugh but he knew you could feel it. “I set the ship to do a long-range scan. I’ll check it again before we decide whether to stay.”
You sighed but smiled up at him without removing your head from his shoulder. “I knew you would. But really, so far?” You lifted your right shoulder in a small, uneven shrug. “So good. No idea what kind of problem there could be.”
Din brought his right arm up and around your shoulders, tugging you in closer as Grogu climbed into his lap. He nodded, conceding. “We’ll see.”
Later, after a very pleasant afternoon by the lake, you could see how hard he was trying to hold in his “I told you so” as you jogged up the ship’s ramp to escape the huge, hissing, angry aquatic mammals that had emerged from the lake at sunset. Nocturnal, you'd guessed as you scrambled towards the ship. They had fangs.
On the bright side, they were pink, just like the many pebbles Grogu had stuffed in your pockets. And their legs were really short, so short they had no hope of catching you.
You looked at Din when the ramp closed, and his shoulders were shaking with his effort to hold in a laugh. You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You still owe me a real vacation, you know.”
He laughed outright, and the sound of it through the modulator made you grin. “I’ll do more research next time.”
“You’d better!” You called after him as he moved towards the ladder. “No more angry pink animals with fangs, please.”
Grogu squealed and held up a pink rock for your inspection. “Yeah, buddy. Pink, like that.” He made an insistent noise and waved it at you again.
And that’s when you noticed that it had legs. That one, and the 35 other members of Grogu’s collection that started squirming in your pocket at exactly the same time.
“DIN!”
...
a/n: lol no, I don't know where this came from
tag list: @katareyoudrilling @jeewrites @djarins-cyare if you're on the tag list for Maintenance Request and you want to be on my tag list for any/all fic, just let me know!
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kai-malewife · 1 year
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Drunken Night | Alhaitham
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Alhaitham x gen!reader
Summary: Alhaitham abhors alcohol. Not only is it harmful to your health, but it also reduces anyone to a blithering imbecile, much like his roommate. Alcohol turns people into fools, yet Alhaitham is one of them.
Warnings : Not explicit but pretty suggestive (implied smut), mention of alcohol/drinking, making out, fluffy teasing, Alhaitham is a bit ooc?, very clingy and affectionnate scribe, a little clumsy too
Cross-Posted on Ao3 @ Zhonglis_cake_saves_lifes
Link here!
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To say that Alhaitham could not hold his liquor was a major understatement. 
Sure, he'd had a drink with Kaveh a handful of times, seeing as the architect was quite the wine enthusiast, but he'd always limit his intake to no more than half a glass, hardly enough to get him tipsy in the slightest. He was always the responsible half, burdened with carrying his mindless roommate back home, the latter inebriated beyond recognition. He had grown accustomed to such a boundary and the unbidden duty it entailed, although at times he was more than inclined to abandon him there.
And now, sitting in the lounge of his very own home, he ponders: how is it that he finds himself in this predicament? 
His entire face is searing hot to the extent of vertigo, a sharp dizziness rendering his brain unable to sustain a decent train of thought, all the while his clothes clutch onto his damp skin, feeling unduly constricting, especially in a certain area he would rather avoid mentioning…
Perhaps it was the fact that you were both already inside the house, and thus there was no need for either of you to remain sober? Or maybe was it your exasperating obstinacy in prodding him until he relented to your plea? It's not as though he is fond of alcohol; booze tastes foul and is nowhere near healthy for your liver, particularly with the amount you've both consumed over the past hour. Then again, just how long can he truly retain his inflexible façade when you're flashing him that bright, toothy grin of yours as you so very ‘innocently’ refill the cup in his hands? 
He could rack his brains all night long, there was no denying that he was partly to blame for allowing himself to get carried away.
‘’Y’know alcohol’s supposed to loosen you up, right? No need t’be so stiff…’’
Your dulcet tones reach his reddened ears, each individual syllable keenly perceived, yet he struggles to process the sentences spilling past your lips. Glassy eyes dwell upon the pink flesh in motion, soft and seductive as strings of words flow, sparking within him a spontaneous urge to kiss you that he, unsuccessfully so, desperately attempts to suppress, unwilling to succumb to what he deems to be "uncouth" urges.
You’re facing him from the opposite end of the couch, peppily slurring nonsensical musings amidst a few hiccups, a sluggish smile etched on your face. 
A costly, now half-empty bottle of wine stands tall atop the wooden coffee table adjacent to the sofa alongside two glasses, both devoid of liquid. The room is spinning, and he can already sense the onset of an astronomical migraine pounding within his cranium; the dim glow of the bulbs adorning the living room ceiling combined with the extensive amount of alcohol coursing through his veins barely allowing him to discern anything past your hazy figure.
‘’...Hm? Haitham?’’ 
He closes in, body moving of its own volition, as though immersed in a trance, regaining his senses only when the gentle scent of your perfume, impregnated with the faint stench of liquor, pervades his nostrils. 
Your lids flutter shut in anticipation of a kiss, one which, curiously enough, does not occur. 
A frown creases your brows in bemusement and you glance up at the scribe, solely to be met with his signature taunting gaze; his lips had remained hovering above yours, distant of hardly a few millimeters, and tugged in a smirk even more irritating than the amused glint in his eyes. You scoff.
‘’Seems like drinkin’ didn't knock that lame sense of humor out of you, huh... ’’
''I, for one, do not believe it could ever deprive me of such an inherent trait of my personality.''
Despite his elaborate vocabulary -and dirty tricks!-, it is plainly obvious that your lover is not quite his usual self given his feverish demeanor -pinkish cheeks and unfocused stare- and the way his words, jestingly mumbled at little above a whisper, loosely drift to your ears, distinctively low and monotone albeit uncharacteristically muddled, almost nasally. Hardly fitting for one as well-spoken as the Scribe.
You shove him away in a huff before turning your back on the man in retaliation for his nasty prank.
‘’Jerk.’’
‘’Oh my, your words deeply wound me.’’ Attentive to your reactions, or rather lack thereof, he snickers at your sulkiness; a quiet, nearly inaudible sound filling the air. ‘’Come on. Don’t be like that.’’
‘’Should’ve thought bout’ your actions much sooner then.’’
Perhaps it is due to the influence of the wine, but Alhaitham neither has the desire nor the intention to leave the poor you alone. He just can't help teasing you a little, even more so when you respond in such an entertaining manner.
His large palms settle on your waist in a delicate but clumsy gesture, and before long, his warm forehead softly collides with your back, pressing gently against your spine.
‘’I’m sorryyy.’’
He playfully stretches out the last syllable, not a shred of remorse apparent in his voice, his hold on you gradually morphing into a full-blown embrace. The heat emanating from him seeps through the fabric of your shirt as he nestles even closer. 
The bizarre idea of a childish Alhaitham does not entirely sit well with you, but it is truly a sight to behold - not that you’d cave in and accept his half-assed apology just yet. After all, wouldn't it be much better to relish in the sporadic phenomenon that is a clingy Alhaitham for a little while longer?
Kisses begin to trail up your body, arising in the gap between your shoulder blades and extending all the way to the nape of your neck, ultimately spreading across your jawline with boundless affection and tenderness. And once you finally do turn to face him, to grant him all the attention he sought so dearly in his lovesick, drunken state, he doesn't miss the opportunity to capture your lips in one swift motion. 
Your fingertips leisurely reach towards his face in response, all past indignation long forgotten. Silken digits loiter on the pale moonlight skin, gliding along each feature, each curve and bump, in mellow circular strokes, soundlessly indulging the contented sighs escaping his throat. You cup his cheeks, pulling him immeasurably closer, your tongues intertwining in a slow, lustful dance as he carefully eases you down onto the sturdy sofa arm.
He props himself up above your breathless form, and as things grow more and more intimate, he fails to notice the extent to which one of his hands, lying flat on the padded surface, had inched closer to the edge of the upholstered seat. Utterly enthralled by the intensity of the moment, intoxicated by the taste of your tongue and the heavy panting flooding the room, Alhaitham inadvertently exerts more weight onto his palm, causing, to no surprise, the latter to slip, and resulting in the Haravatat student falling off the couch, and of course, dragging you down along with him.
It takes you several seconds to fully comprehend the situation, the shock sobering you up a bit.
His bare, toned back is resting flush against the cool stone flooring, and you, blouse unbuttoned and damped in sweat, now straddling him.
‘’…Seems like gravity’s gotten the best of Sumeru’s feeble scholar, hm?’’
He rolls his eyes, mumbling a retort you don’t quite catch under his breath. You find yourself unable to hold in a laugh at the look of sheer embarrassment written all over his pretty face. The scribe was notorious for his foolproof schemes and frequently boasted -though he prefers to call it "merely asserting his abilities"- of his lack of blundering. It is therefore truly a remarkable feat to witness him fumbling in such comical fashion. You’d almost feel bad for him. 
Almost.
Sensing the built-up arousal pulsing through his pants from beneath you, you flash him a smirk, preparing to resume what had been initiated on the snug sofa moments earlier when a sudden thought crosses your mind.
‘’I totally forgot but… Won’t Kaveh be home soon?’’
Alhaitham doesn't reply. Instead, he digs into his trouser pocket and retrieves a golden metal key dangling from an overly cutesy charm. Too cute for somebody the likes of your stoic boyfriend.
‘’Don’t worry about him, I already made sure he wouldn’t be an inconvenience.’’
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andreafmn · 4 months
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12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 8
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Word Count: 4.7K Paring: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader Prompt by @12-days-of-ficmas: christmas baby is sensitive about never being celebrated on their birthday/always feels skipped over Warnings: foul language
Summary: Being a Supe comes with its challenges. But there is no challenge bigger than being the child of Supes that do not care. (Y/N) has been constantly overlooked by her parents in all aspects of her life other than her abilities. Her birthday is not the exception. But there is one person that wants to make sure she knows how special she is, regardless of her powers.
A/N: I watched Gen V last year and naturally became obsessed with Jordan, so I had to give a day to them. I love them with all my heart and I loved this story too. Mainly because I selfishly wrote this about having a Christmas birthday 🤭🤭
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Studying at God U had been (Y/N)’s dream, much like many other Supes. She had been raised to idolize the lifestyle of a crime-fighting Supe and had been trained her entire life to one day become one of The Seven. That much her parents wanted for her. 
Having been B-list superheroes just like Polarity, they had wanted more for their daughter. They wanted her to rise through the ranks quickly and efficiently, making sure her name was in everyone’s mouth. More than her parents, they were her managers. Appearing in her life if and when necessary to make sure her image and reputation were always pristine. No amount of money, time, or resources would ever be too much to make sure their baby girl was one of the greats. They truly provided her with everything she could ever need except the love and warmth parents should give.
(Y/N) had always been their biggest marketing ploy. The golden child of Storm Surge and Radiance –the only title her parents cared for. While they went around the world giving conferences and interviews, the girl was stuck at home, by herself, training, slowly being molded into a daughter those heroes could be proud of. 
She grew up in isolation. There weren’t many people around her growing up the way she was. It wasn’t until she was touring the university that she finally found people like her –exactly like her. 
The first two people she met were Luke Riordan and Andre Anderson. They were finishing their freshman year at Godolkin University and had run into (Y/N) after she had gotten separated from her tour group. The duo had taken it upon themselves to show her the real God U and promised to take her under their wing when she finally arrived that warm August. 
In the coming months, the three of them engaged in nonstop communication as they helped her in her transition from intensive homeschooling and training to a more social and balanced life. They had also introduced her to Cate Dunlap and Jordan Li, the remaining members of the golden quartet of God U, as she liked to call them. 
The four of them were a refreshing breath in comparison to her life of isolation. She couldn't help but grow a certain affinity for the group of Supes, desiring nothing more than to be at the university to finally experience their friendship face-to-face. Especially a certain bigender student that had caught her eye. 
There was a sort of magnetism to Jordan Li that (Y/N) could not deny. She wanted nothing more than to know everything about them –their likes, their dislikes, their hopes, their dreams. She wanted to know what life by their side could be. And a small part of her hoped they wanted that as well. 
But when the day finally came to move to God U, she was met with a version of Jordan she had not seen over the phone. Where Andre, Luke, and Cate had welcomed her with open arms, even going as far as to help her move into her dorm, Jordan had decided to keep their distance from her. In their male form, he would grumble under his breath as he moved boxes into her room, asking Luke how long the whole ordeal would last. When Luke answered that they would probably end up getting food and spending the night with her, he could only scoff and say he’d be going to spend the night in his room. 
“Did I do something wrong?” (Y/N) questioned as she spread her duvet across her bed. “Why are they so mad?” 
“They’re probably tired,” Luke shrugged. “Jordan can sometimes get into these moods when they haven’t gotten much sleep.” 
“Maybe you should go check on them, then. I think I can manage by myself now.”
“Nonsense,” Andre grinned as he slid an arm across her shoulders. “We promised you some dinner, and that’s what you’re getting. Jordan’ll get over it soon enough.”
And that’s what she had hoped. 
But as the days passed, the only thing that seemed to grow in Jordan was contempt. They would avoid (Y/N) as best as they could, even going out of their way not to run into her. They would barely talk to her when the group went out to a party or simply had a comfortable night in one of their dorms. It seemed like nothing the girl did was good enough for them, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her crush on them would only damage her in the long run. 
Still, days turned to months, and suddenly (Y/N) was completing her first semester at Godolkin. She had become busy with her schoolwork, quickly rising through the ranks and coming very close to becoming one of the only freshmen ever to make it onto the Top 5. Christmas break had quickly approached, and the New York winter was coming in strong. Students all around were packing up to go home for the holidays, grateful for a small rest from the school. Granted, a lot of students had loving and supportive families to go home to. Even if (Y/N) didn’t, she was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed once more and having some time away from Jordan's icy treatment. 
After packing what was necessary, she rolled her suitcase out of the dorm building, half expecting to find her parents waiting for her, happy to take her home. Instead, she saw other students reuniting with their families or simply groups of friends driving away to their planned vacations. Meanwhile, the fire-wielding girl stood freezing, hoping to see even a glance of her birthgivers. 
Once twenty minutes had passed in the cold winter morning, (Y/N) knew deep down what had happened. But instead of jumping to conclusions, she dialed her parents’ phone. “Hey guys,” she said as their faces came up on the screen. “Where are you? You were supposed to pick me up half an hour ago.” 
“Oh, honey, we forgot to tell you,” her mother answered, bringing her face forward on the screen. “We had some last-minute stops added to the book tour, and we won’t make it home for Christmas.” 
“Yeah, kid, we talked to the Dean, and she said it was okay for you to stay at the dorms,” her father added. “Anything you need, just use the card.” 
“Can’t I at least go home? I mean, I could still see you when you get back. Even if it’s after Christmas.” 
“Honey, by the time we get back, you’ll be heading off to school again,” her mother said. “And there’s no point in you staying at home all by yourself. Might as well stay there and get ahead in some classes.” 
“Are you serious, mom? What about my birth…?” 
“Kid, sorry, the flight attendant is flagging us down,” her father interrupted. “We need to turn our phones off. But Nicole will come over sometime soon with your presents. And remember, any groceries or necessities, just use your card.”
“But…”  
“Merry Christmas, honey,” they chorused before the screen went black. 
(Y/N) shouldn’t have been surprised. It was not the first time she had spent the holiday alone, and it was definitely not the first time they had forgotten about her birthday. With it being so close to Christmas, it had somehow always slipped their mind. But something in her believed that it would have been different that time. She was out of the house and had very little communication with them; maybe they had missed her. Yet, nothing had changed. Nothing would ever change. 
As she felt tears falling from her eyes, (Y/N) turned around to head back inside before anyone could see her cry. Walking with her hands on her eyes, she bumped into someone harshly but couldn’t bring herself to care who it was. All she did was mumble an apology and head back into her room to sleep that bad dream away. 
By the time she had woken up from her nap, the building had emptied, and she felt, for the first time in a long time, truly alone. The halls would normally be bustling with chatter and mischief. But that winter night, the silence was the most chilling sensation of all. Her footsteps echoed as she walked to the bathroom, every step reminding her of how empty the school was and how alone she was.
For three whole days, (Y/N) had fallen into an automatic routine. She had gone for groceries the very next day, buying all the junk food her parents would have chastised her for getting. But they weren’t there. She had free reign and a credit card with a pretty high spending limit. If she wanted to drown herself in chips and ice cream, she would do so. 
Her parents’ assistant Nicole went by on the second day, but she had texted her to come downstairs and handed her a bag with presents without so much as looking up from her phone. It was the only human interaction she’d had; it had felt as cold as her parents had been. 
When her birthday finally arrived, three days before Christmas, (Y/N) left the school to buy herself a birthday cake. Her parents would have been furious at her for indulging in such a treat, but they couldn’t chastise her if they weren’t there. She had been dreaming of devouring an entire chocolate cake, savoring the taste of the rich flavor. Alas, all she found at the nearest grocery store was a simple vanilla cupcake without as much as a candle to light. Defeatedly, the girl walked home with her simple treat and braced herself for another birthday in solitude.
Once she was back at her dorm building, she pulled the cake out of the box and produced a flame from the tip of her finger. “Well, make a wish, (Y/N),” she whispered to herself after singing a sad rendition of Happy Birthday. “Not that they ever come true.” 
She blew away the flame and, with fresh tears in her eyes, took a bite of the slightly stale cupcake. It was rather hard and bland, but it was as good as she was gonna get without making it herself. And she had no energy left to bake herself a cake. 
As the doors of the elevator opened on her floor, (Y/N) was ready to cry herself to sleep watching another movie. She had not expected her entire hall to be filled with her friends and a chorused “Surprise!” to leave their throats. 
The girl startled at the noise, instinctually forming a ball of fire in her hand to defend herself against the intruder, but upon seeing her friends quickly put it out. There were couches in the halls, lights and streamers on the ceiling, and balloons littered all over. Where the vending machines normally were, a table of food and drinks rested, a beautiful birthday cake set in the center. 
“Holy shit,” was all she could mutter as Luke stepped forward and twirled her in a tight hug. “How did you guys know I was here?” 
“A little birdy told us, and we couldn’t let you have another birthday by yourself,” he smiled as he set her down. “Figured you’d want some company, at least for tonight.” 
“Yeah, and it’s also a good excuse to party at an empty school,” Andre added with a grin. “It just so happened that it was your birthday too.” 
“What if it hadn’t been?” 
“Then we’d be celebrating Christmas,” Cate smiled. “Either way, we were gonna come spend time with you.” 
“You guys are crazy,” she chuckled before wrapping them all in a hug. “Thank you.” 
(Y/N) disappeared for a second to change her clothes, and once she came back, the party went on full-steam ahead. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, there was alcohol and drugs, and everything felt perfect. She was surrounded by her friends –and some acquaintances that had only come to party– and for the first time in a long time, she felt happy and loved. And, even if it surprised her, she had been able to steal glances at her painful crush. 
Jordan had kept to themselves the entire time she had been there, finding ways not to run into her or even meet her eye. She noticed how he downed cup after cup, only engaging in conversation when others talked to him. But he hadn’t even smiled or nodded at her. If he was there, it was most likely because Luke had dragged them there. 
The girl wanted to enjoy her party. Bask in the love and care her friends had gifted her with, but it didn’t take long before Jordan’s obvious disdain started to damper her mood. She was dancing with a scowl, and every shot she downed was in an effort to forget the person she wanted the most. 
“Okay, what’s going on?” Luke asked as he pulled her away from the loudness of the hall and into her room. “I thought you would like the party.” 
“I do.” 
“Then why do you look so sad, (Y/N)?” he pressed. “If it’s too much, I can get everyone out, and it’ll just be the five of us.”
“No, the party is great. It’s honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping as she felt embarrassment bubbling at the words she would speak. “The problem is Jordan, okay? It’s the fact that, for some fucking reason, they hate me and can’t even find a way to hide it on my birthday.” 
“Wait, you think… you think Jordan hates you?” he asked with a slight chuckle. “That’s crazy, (Y/N)!”
As he continued laughing, the door opened to reveal Andre and Cate with confused expressions on their faces. “What happened?” Andre asked. “Everything good?”
“Oh, yeah,” Luke said in between laughs. “It’s just that (Y/N) thinks Jordan hates her.”
“No way,” Cate snickered. “Are you serious?”
“Are you?” (Y/N) emphasized. “How is this coming as a surprise to you?”
“Alright, then. What makes you think they hate you?”
“Well, Andre, for starters, they haven’t even said a word to me all night,” the girl started. “They avoid me in the halls and in classes. They’re always trying to intimidate me by changing into their male form when they spot me. They don’t speak to me unless they literally have no other choice. I’m pretty sure if they had been able to, they’d throw me out of God U. Not to mention all the stink eyes they’ve given me these past months. Yeah, Jordan definitely hates me.” 
“Oh, this is hilarious,” Luke said, still hunched over in laughter. “You really think they hate you.” 
“How is that funny?” 
“They were the one who planned this whole thing,” Andre answered. “If it hadn’t been for their call, we wouldn’t have known that you were here all by yourself.”
“Believe me, (Y/N),” Cate added. “They care a lot more than you know.”
“You’re kidding, right?” (Y/N) chuckled dryly. “There’s no way Jordan Li cares enough to do something like this.”
“You’re never gonna believe us, are you?” She answered Luke with a shake of her head. “Alright, then. All we have to do is get you two together so you can talk.” 
“Good luck with that,” she scoffed. “The last time they were forced to talk to me, they did it all over text. And not a single emoji.”
“You leave that up to us,” Luke grinned. “We’ll get you two alone.” 
(Y/N) didn’t understand what he meant until an hour after that conversation. The second they had left the room, they had gone back to partying. They danced and sang and drank, and she did everything possible to put Jordan in the back of her mind. But it was difficult as she saw them change from their male form to their female, taking a glass of champagne and downing it before going to talk to a girl. It irked her to no avail and only made her drink more and more. 
She wanted to numb all feelings. She wanted to forget about her parents, forget about her lonely Christmas, and forget about her fruitless crush on the one person who would never like her back.
As she served herself her third whisky sour in that hour, Luke got onto a table and called for everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone, are you having fun?” Everyone around him cheered, and a shit-eating grin spread onto his face. “That’s what I like to hear. But I think it’s time to kick it old school at this party and play a little rambunctious game. Something you might call seven minutes in heaven.”
His eyes fell onto (Y/N)’s as his grin grew, accepting a glass bowl from Cate as he continued. “I have here all of our names here, thanks to my beautiful girlfriend, Cate,” he said. “I’m sure you all know the rules of the game. But for the person who just came out of a decade-long coma, I will pull two names from this bowl, and those two people will be stuck in (Y/N)’s room for seven minutes. Normally, you’d make out or something similar, but you can’t force anyone to do that. So, whatever happens in that room is up to you.”
“Just do it on Marnie’s bed,” Cate interjected. “Not (Y/N)’s.”
“Hey!” Marnie, (Y/N)’s roommate, exclaimed before shrugging. “Eh, knock yourselves out.”
“Thank you, Marnie. I’ll make sure people thank you for your service,” Luke chuckled. “Well then, let’s see who our first person is. Andre, will you do the honors?”
The boy stepped beside his friend and stuck his hand into the bowl, making a whole scene out of mixing up the papers. But (Y/N) knew. “Jordan Li,” Andre announced. “Get over here!”
Jordan walked to the front of the crowd with a chuckle, her skin turning a soft shade of red. Luke got down from the table and draped an arm across her shoulders in a side hug, then landed his eyes back on (Y/N) before saying, “And who will be the lucky person to join our friend here, Andre?” 
With another pretend mixing of the names, Andre pulled out a paper with a smile that spread from ear to ear. “Well, if it isn’t the birthday girl herself,” he exclaimed. “(Y/N), get your ass over here.”
At the mention of her name, Jordan’s smile dropped and quickly changed into his name form, making (Y/N) roll her eyes. The alcohol was taking effect in her system and was making confidence surge from deep inside. Unfortunately, it was walking hand in hand with anger, and she was ready to give them a piece of her mind. 
She walked to the front of the hallway as everyone cheered and followed Luke to her room. Jordan walked in first, with her following close behind as their friend stopped at the door. “Have fun, you guys,” he smiled. “Your time starts now.”
As soon as Luke closed the door, Jordan sat on Marnie’s bed, looking everywhere but at her. He remained quiet and uninterested, making ire burn deep inside her. He played with his chain and kicked his feet forward, letting time pass by and anger build. 
“What the fuck is your problem with me?!” 
Jordan jumped at the sudden explosions, his eyes finally snapping toward her. He was sure steam was coming out of her ears, her face red with anger. “What do you mean?” he questioned. “I don’t have a problem with you.” 
“You’re fucking kidding, right?” she spat. “You’ve been avoiding me this entire semester. I don’t know what I did from the first time we talked to the first day of school, but you’ve done everything in your power to stay away from me. So, either I did something, or you just don’t like me.” 
“You didn’t do anything,” they answered sheepishly. “It’s… it’s complicated.” 
“C… complicated?” (Y/N) stressed. “Complicated is the fact that something seemed to change before the first day of school. And it was big enough that it made you change your impression of me. Unless you were pretending the entire summer and it got harder to do once we were in the same place.” 
“That’s not what happened. I wasn’t pretending.” 
“Then what is it, Jordan?” she exclaimed, biting back the tears that threatened to spill in her intoxicated state. “Because this whole intimidation and avoidance thing is getting quite old.” 
“Intimidation?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Jordan! Do you really think I’m that stupid?” (Y/N) questioned rhetorically. “Every single time you know I am near, you change into your male form. Whenever I try to talk to you, you walk away or answer in the shortest way possible. Hell, even when we all go out as a group, you keep as far away from me as possible. You’ve pushed me away all these months, and I think I deserve a reason why!” 
He startled at the raise of her voice. Her anger slapped him across the face, stinging as though she had actually hit him. They had been avoiding her, but she was nowhere close to the reason why. “I don’t hate you, (Y/N),” he said quietly. “I could never hate you.”
“Then, please, help me understand why you’ve been acting this way,” she pleaded. Her expression had softened, and Jordan could see the pain behind her teary eyes. “I just want the friendship we had in summer back. I mean, for almost three months straight, we talked nonstop, and suddenly, it was radio silence from you. What did I do for things to change so drastically?” 
“God, you didn’t do anything, (Y/N). It’s me that’s the problem!” Jordan exploded as he stood from the bed. He felt angsty, pacing back and forth as he prepared himself for the inevitable rejection. “I know we built a good relationship over the summer, and it was so good. But that’s the problem. I don’t want to be your friend.” 
“Oh,” (Y/N) answered defeatedly. “Sorry. I thought…” 
“No! This is coming out all wrong,” he said as he ran his hands across his face in frustration. “I don’t want to be your friend because I want to be more than that. (Y/N), I’ve liked you from the moment we met. Through the phone, it was easy for me to keep my feelings in control. But here, seeing you around 24/7, it’s been hard to keep it all in control.” 
“Wait, you like me?” she questioned, her heart fluttering fast against her chest. “Like, like me, like me?” 
“Of course I do!” he yelled as frustration got the best of him. “You’re this amazing, talented, unbelievably bright girl. How could I not? But I thought pushing you away would be the easiest way to get over you.” 
“But I don’t get it, Jordan. Why not tell me? Or, hell, even ask how I felt?” 
“Because you’re you, and I’m me! You deserve to be with someone easier, someone that’s in your league,” Jordan confessed. “I come with very heavy baggage, and you don’t deserve to have to carry it. You should be with someone who knows who they are and knows what they want. Definitely not someone who needs constant validation to feel good enough. Even so, at the end of the day, I know you don’t even like me. I mean, you’ve only ever had boyfriends, and that’s an easier thing to explain to parents about and…” 
(Y/N) couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed Jordan’s face and crashed her lips onto theirs. They tasted of champagne and chocolate, a mix as soft and divine as their mouth felt. It took everything in her not to melt at the touch. And suddenly, the face they had been holding had grown smaller. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw Jordan’s female form in front of her. 
“Oh, hi.”
“See? This is not what you want,” she sighed. “I’m not…” 
Once more, (Y/N) interrupted them with a kiss. “I don’t care what gender you are, Jordan,” she smiled, running her thumb across her cheeks. “I like you for who you are. The entire time you’ve been trying to forget about me, I’ve been trying to get close to you because I like you, you idiot.” 
“You’re just saying that.” 
“Why would I lie about this, Jordan? Hell, you can ask Luke about it if you don’t believe me.” 
“Luke?” she chuckled. “You’ve told Luke about this?”
“There have been a couple of drunkenly sad confessions over the past few months about it,” (Y/N) sighed, hiding her face in embarrassment. “Andre caught some of them as well. But yeah, they know. They’re actually the ones who orchestrated this whole thing.” 
“Sort of gathered that seven minutes in heaven was a ruse,” Jordan smiled. “Especially since we’ve gone past seven, and no one has come to knock on the door.” 
“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “They also told me you were the one who planned this whole thing.” 
“I was,” she answered meekly. “I overheard you talking to your parents on the last day of school. You actually bumped into me, and it broke my heart to see you crying like you were. I couldn’t bear knowing that you’d spend another birthday by yourself, so I made quick arrangements to get everyone back today.” 
“So, you did the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, and you still avoided me all night?”
“I’m a bit of a coward, (Y/N),” she laughed. “And, well, up until a minute ago, I thought there was no way you could actually like me. Not this version of me, at least.” 
“Mm, that explains the continuous shifting into your male form when I’m near,” (Y/N) grinned. “But, regardless of everything that’s gone down these past few months, thank you, Jordan. You have no idea what this all means to me.” 
“I thought it was about time you knew how loved and appreciated you are,” Jordan smiled, wrapping her arms around (Y/N)’s waist and pressing her close to her body. “Sorry that it took so long for me to tell you the truth. And I’m sorry your parents are assholes that don’t know how fucking special you are.” 
“Thank you, J,” she said as a tear rolled down her eye. “I don’t care how long it took. I’m just happy it finally happened, and now you don’t have to pretend to hate me.”
“God, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how horrible it must have felt to think that.” 
“Well, now you have a lot to make up for,” she grinned, crossing her arms around Jordan’s neck. “Starting by wishing me a happy birthday.” 
“Happy birthday,” Jordan said before kissing her lips and accentuating every word with a peck. “Happy. Fucking. Birthday. And. Merry. Fucking. Christmas.” 
Their soft kisses rapidly turned heated. Hands exploring bodies, touching and searching. They twisted and turned until Jordan crashed (Y/N) onto the wall, kissing from her lips down to her neck, finding that one spot that made her moan. (Y/N)’s hands snaked into Jordan’s hair, gripping tightly at the base. It was passionate and feverish, and it was taking everything in them not to rip each other’s clothes off. 
And it was also rudely interrupted. 
“Hey, we’re gonna sing…” Luke said as he opened the door. “Woah. Didn’t think seven minutes in heaven worked this well.”
“Luke!” Jordan yelled. “What the hell?!” 
“Sorry,” he snickered. “I thought you guys were only going to talk.” 
“We… we did,” (Y/N) said. “We just moved on from that.”
“I’m glad,” he grinned. “But people want cake, and I’m not letting anyone get a piece until we’ve sung you happy birthday. So, get out here now. You guys can keep making out later.” 
As he exited, both of them broke out into laughter as they wrapped their arms around each other. They smoothed down their clothes and their hair before walking toward the door, an aura of giddiness surrounding them.
 “Will you stay after the party?” (Y/N) asked, pulling Jordan by their forearm. “After everyone’s gone back home, will you stay with me a little longer?” 
“I’ll stay the rest of Christmas break if that’s what you want,” she smiled, threading her fingers through hers. “We really do have a lot to catch up on.” 
Next ->
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zenphiaaa · 8 months
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Ring (Rengoku Kyojuro)
LoveSick!Rengoku x Gen!Reader
<> The two of you were back into the honeymoon phase after Rengoku had proposed to you
<> You were gushing over your brand new fiancee, he's overjoyed that you said yes!
<> Rengoku is a traditional man so the two of you weren't living together before
<> Time to go house shopping
<> Even though you guys aren't yet married, you compromised by moving in together once engaged and not dating
<> The two of you move out to a home that's not too far away from the family house
<> The two of you spend that weekend unpacking and decorating your space
<> The picture frames is what really ends up tying the whole place together
<> Photos of dates and anniversaries decorated the wall lovingly
<> Since Rengoku is a traditional man...the two of you haven't gotten intimate
<> You respect his wishes to wait until marriage
<> The two of you do share a bed until our wedding day though!
<> Cuddles are a must before bed time and before getting out of bed
<> Forehead kisses before leaving for work or going out
<> Surpringly not into PDA though
<> Will hold hands and place a hand on your lower back guiding you through certain places but that's about it
<> Also his social media feed is full of nothing but short videos and photos of you
<> He just loves his fiancee so much, he can't help but capture your adorableness
Rengoku hummed happily to himself as he played with your hand on top of the comforter. The two of you were sat at home watching movies, having a night in from the crazy work week the both of you had experienced. You rested your head against Rengoku's shoulder in response as you fouced on the flim in front of you.
The male smiled softly at your movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer aginst him. "I love you so much." He whispers into your ear.
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captainmera · 2 months
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Depression has hit me really hard, and a lot of things are happening at the same time.
I'm simultaneously burnt out and on the verge of a collapse, but like... I can't really do anything about it. I'm just sort of waiting for the stick to break so I can work thru it and move along.
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I can't even focus on important things like replying to mails without my brain circumventing into something else.
Avpd and burnout is putting me in a constant brain fog these days. And severe maladaptive daydreaming.
I'm trying to be social and grounded, but I feel like everything around me is drowned in mist, and when I speak, it's through molasses.
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I know I'm disappointing ppl by putting certain things on hold, like fanfics, my comic, or asks. But I just can't do it r/n. it will come in whatever speed it comes at.
And frankly I'm just too fried and tired to extend more than a sigh of empathy to your frustration with me. I understand you, I do. But I'm just some guy. I'm not getting paid. I'm broke and tired, and I can't be arsed to even be upset.
Atm, I'm doing this Caleb-focused comic mainly just to do something else than hyperventilate or maladaptive daydream. It's helping me have some control over what I disappear into, something physical, rather than sit on the floor and stare off into space.
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I could do it for ibwr, I should be putting that energy there.
But there's some stressful things going on there with contracts and whatnot that's put a damper on things. Money is stressful. At least a stressful damper. So it's difficult to concentrate on it with that humming in the background, y'know?
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Anyway.
Bear with me, please. I know people are impressed by my productivity and speed - but it's not so impressive once you know I'm just unwell and trying to cope. I also have a lot of time on my hands.
I'm fine, really, I am. /GEN I just can't do four projects at once. I can do two tops. And right now it's the caleb comic and IBWR. That's it.
I'm aware it's not super great to work so much when I'm burnt out.
But know that I'm choosing one pest lesser than another greater pest. So the constant "REST!!" Comments aren't, like, fantastic. I just feel ashamed for not being better than I am or being able to practice what I preach.
Lo and behold, being mentally unwell and not being wholesome healthy about it. Who would've known it is complicated to be unwell, actually? /LHJ /GEN /notSarcasm
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I know I don't owe anybody anything. But I just kinda wanted to have a sigh and vague-post-gesture at what I'm standing in to the void of the Internet.
Because I do get comments and asks asking where an update is, or why I didn't draw their ask, or why I'm putting energy in X instead of Y, etc.
So I'm just......... I'm just gonna like....... ignore it. It's not personal.
I love and appreciate your love for my work, I really do. Thank you for all of your excitement and your feedback. Its been a delight. /GEN
But... I'm just gonna have to ignore what the majority of people crave from me and do what I want in the pace I need to do it.
okay? :(
Look. Just allow it fam.
Just allow it.
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Using memes to try to communicate some essence of lightheartedness.
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irisintheafterglow · 9 months
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End Game #2 (volleyball captain!gojo x you)
summary: you sneak out to play volleyball.
word count: 1.5k
cw/tags: mild language, jjk volleyball au, misunderstandings, a little angst but nothing too bad, commitment issues lol, subtle pining !!!!
note: ok part 2 because this au has given me motivation again. also i don't know if i should make the rest of the team the second-gen jjk sorcerers (yuuji, megumi, nobara, inumaki, etc) so if you have any thoughts on that lmk. i'm thinking yes make them part of the team but that'd negate their age gap so as long as that's fine i think it'll work. anyways hope you enjoy!!
likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated <3
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A knocking on your window jolts you from your daze as you stare blankly at the unfinished document in front of you. It was only supposed to take two hours, you told yourself, but those two hours had doubled as you kept rewriting and re-wording every sentence you typed. Squeezing your eyes shut, you rest your face in your hands and pray for the teacher to postpone the due date. 
More insistent knocking draws your attention again, despite willfully ignoring it the first time. You lean back in your chair and groan, waiting for him to become impatient and start his Shakespearean monologuing. 
“Are you going to make me sit out here in the cold? In the dead of night? How cruel is this earthly plane–” You slide the window open, meeting Satoru’s eyes with a tired stare, and his voice catches in his throat. “Wow," he manages. “You look like shit.” You blink once, twice, a hand leaning on the window frame and the other on your hip. 
“What are you doing here, Satoru?” 
The mouth turns into a sly grin. “I need a partner.”
It’s late, and you’re unfazed. “I have a boyfriend.”
“That’s not what I mean, wait…what?” You laugh at the genuine confusion that paints his face, turning back into your room to grab your shoes. He slides through the window easily like he’d done a million times before, landing softly on the carpet and leaning back against the ledge. Poorly masked concern leaks into his voice and you smirk. “Since when were you seeing someone?” 
“Since never, Satoru. I already have my hands full dealing with you and your team; a relationship would essentially be another item on my schedule.” You slip on mismatched socks and some worn-out sneakers, shutting your laptop with a scowl. The essay would have to wait until you were done taking out your frustration on a volleyball. He watches you intently, blue eyes glowing in the moonlight. You’d known Satoru for years, but you always found that it was most challenging to read his emotions at night. It was like certain emotions were nocturnal. By day, Satoru was the goofiest person you knew; by night, you sometimes caught him staring at you in ways you knew he didn’t look at anyone else. You pushed whatever motives he may have into the back of your mind, dismissing his nightly flirtations the same way you ignored the daytime ones. 
You stand in front of him expectantly with your hands on your hips, and he peers up at you, eyes twinkling like the stars. “Shall we?” His fake chivalry makes the corner of your mouth turn up. 
“We need a ball first, Satoru.” You maneuver through your window after him, allowing him to briefly place his hands on your hips as you jump down from the ledge. His hands linger on your body for a moment before his senses come back. 
“I left it in your yard.” 
Your mouth drops in disbelief. “In the flowerbed?” You’re both whisper-yelling in front of your house, and you hope none of the neighbors decided to take a late-night stroll. 
He puts his hands up in surrender, shrugging as you turn on your phone flashlight to find the ball. “There was nowhere else to put it!” 
“I swear if you crushed those pink asters that I’ve been–”
“That you’ve been tending for years, I know.” You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as you bend over, fishing out the ball among the dark foliage. “You should grow red asters.” 
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Satoru,” you quip, tossing him the ball and running a hand over the petals to ensure they weren’t damaged too badly.  
He takes your spunk in stride, falling into step next to you. “I think they’re pretty. D’you know they’re supposed to symbolize devotion?” 
Your body runs on autopilot, crossing neighborhood sidewalks with Satoru at your side as you head toward the small park a few blocks from your house. He spins the ball on a slender finger absentmindedly as you walk. He continues his attempts to convince you to plant red asters the entire way to the park, even after you’ve taken your regular position across from him near the playground. “I’ll think about it, okay? Will you stop telling me how to garden now?”
“I wasn’t telling you to do anything; I was just suggesting it.” He throws you the ball, underhanded, and your arms move together mechanically to bump it back to him. 
“Yeah, just like you were suggesting that I call you captain earlier today.” Nimble fingers set it gracefully back to you, and you almost miss spiking the ball watching it arch in the air. 
He receives it easily, bumping it back. “I still don’t understand why you refuse.”
“Because I’m not one of your players, Satoru. I’m outside of the game. I make sure you all have water bottles and stuff.” Set. 
“You’re still just as much part of the team as anyone else is.” Spike. 
“Agree to disagree, then.” Bump. 
There was a separate reason as to why you didn’t want to call him captain, one that you would take to your grave. It was a line, you considered it, just like acknowledging his flirting. If you crossed that line, you were truly integrated into the team, truly connected to Satoru. You were the team’s manager, still separate from the rest of the players. As nice as it was to have somewhere to go after school besides your house, it was just as nice having a foot in the door just in case things suddenly went south. It was how you were, and you weren’t in the mood to verbalize your commitment issues with the one guy who’d probably tease you the most about it. 
Satoru’s face is unreadable again as he sets the ball, but you could see the gears turning in his head. “Are we still having that practice match with Kyoto next week?” 
Of all the things he would ask you, you didn’t think it would be practice-related. “As far as I’m aware, yeah. They offered to buy dinner if we won, by the way.” Spike. 
“Does that mean we have to pay for their food if we lose?” Bump. 
“Probably.” Set. 
“Then, no. Definitely not.” Spike. 
“Why?” You stick your tongue out teasingly. “Got plans?” Bump. 
“No, not yet at least.” Set. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spike. 
Bump. He shrugs nonchalantly, running a hand through his moonlit hair that you knew he only did when he was nervous. “Was thinking about asking someone out after the match.”
Set. “Oh.” The surprise moves past your lips before you can stop it, and you kick yourself mentally for feeling a bit of disappointment at his plans. You tended to get dinner with Satoru after practice matches, always some shitty fast food place where he talked about how much the other team sucked as he wolfed down three burgers. Sometimes Suguru or Shoko or Nanami would join you, but the one constant after hosting rival teams was dinner with Satoru. His intentions bothered you deep in your chest, but you couldn’t figure out why. 
Spike. “Yeah.” A layer of awkwardness settles between you two that you’d never felt before. It wasn’t that you were distressed that he was gonna ask someone on a date; your body just felt physically unable to create words. 
Bump. “Well, have fun with that then.” You fight to keep your voice even, eyes on the ball to look away from Satoru’s piercing stare. He was trying to read you, and you weren’t going to let him. 
Set. “Aren’t you going to ask me who they are?”
Spike, a hard spike. The ball speeds toward Satoru faster than he expects it, forcing him to catch it instead of sending it back toward you. “No, Satoru. Unlike the rest of the country’s population, I really couldn’t give two shits about who you decide is worthy of your attention.” The words fall from your mouth with more venom than you intend, and you bite down on your bottom lip guiltily. “I’m sorry. It’s late.” 
He watches you again, mysterious eyes analyzing your thoughts like a science experiment. “Yeah, it’s alright. It’s my fault, anyway, making you come out this time of night.” He smiles one of those make-everything-better smiles, and you feel a little lighter that he wasn’t too angry. “I’ll take you home.” 
Several minutes that felt like hours later, you’re back in your room as Satoru sits on the windowsill again, about to leave. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’m gonna ask them to dinner.” 
“Really? Why not?”
With his back to you, you had no idea what his expression was. You didn’t know if he was angry with you, but something in his voice told you he was hiding something. 
“Just doesn’t seem like the right time.” Before you could formulate a response, the old Satoru is back in a snap, tilting his head toward you playfully. “But, hey. You never know. Maybe someday I’ll get the balls to ask them,” he murmurs before he disappears, leaping down from your window into the night. 
You can’t tell if you’re relieved or disappointed that he wasn’t going to ask out that mystery person.
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