Tumgik
#mans was fighting back the tears with his life
pucksandpower · 16 hours
Text
Worlds Apart
Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader
Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you
Warnings: Jos Verstappen
Based on a request by @butterflyexe
Tumblr media
The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.
“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”
You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.
You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”
“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”
“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”
“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”
The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”
“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”
“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.
Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”
Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”
The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”
“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”
A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.
Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”
Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”
Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”
“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.
Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”
“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”
You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”
His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”
You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”
He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”
“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”
A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”
You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”
“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”
Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”
Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”
You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”
“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”
You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.
“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.
You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”
“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”
“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.
It’s going to be okay.
He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.
Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.
Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.
***
Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.
“Max! A word, if you please.”
He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”
Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”
“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”
“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”
Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.
“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”
“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”
Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”
It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.
“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”
Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”
Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”
He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”
Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.
“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.
Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.
You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.
The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️
He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?
After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.
After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.
“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”
“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”
Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”
So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.
“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”
Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”
“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”
Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.
“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”
“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”
“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”
As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.
When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”
“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”
Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”
“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”
“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”
You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”
He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”
“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”
“Sweet dreams, liefje.”
Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.
Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.
So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.
As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.
Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.
***
You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.
For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.
Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.
Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.
Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.
That’s no ordinary car.
That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.
Just like-
“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...
“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.
His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.
He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.
“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.
Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.
“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”
“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.
“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.
A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.
“Who is that guy?”
“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”
“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”
The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.
“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”
Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.
“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”
He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.
“You’re impossible!”
“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.
This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.
But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.
Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.
“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”
There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.
“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.
“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.
“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”
“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.
“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”
You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.
“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”
You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.
“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.
“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”
There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.
But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.
“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”
Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.
“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”
A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.
“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.
Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.
“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”
And neither of you can wait.
851 notes · View notes
khaylin27 · 14 hours
Text
The Alchemy
Tumblr media
pairing: oscar piastri x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; talks about carlos sainz x norris reader (past relationship)
series: the tortured poets department
synopsis: the alchemy is a term coined in the old days before chemist but back then the aim was to produce gold from other elements by mixing certain chemicals. knowing that she is now with the man of her dreams; she came out of the dark in which she has stayed in for a very long time and found the person in which there was 'no denying the alchemy' that if they were together, there's gold, which to her means love.
warnings: literally none because it's all fluff
author's note: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT YOU'VE GIVEN THIS SERIES 🥹😭🩶 also i had a different collage for this but i didn't like it so here's a new one
This happens once every few lifetimes These chemicals hit me like white wine
Marriage happens every few lifetimes, but not for you. You once thought you were going to marry Carlos. Looking back now, you're extremely grateful that you didn't marry Carlos last year. The 'chemicals' of love that you had with Carlos had an intoxicating effect similar to white wine.
I circled you on a map I haven't come around in so long But I'm coming back so strong
After the Australian Grand Prix, you and Oscar decided to spontaneously get married here since all of the important people in your life are here in his home country. The wedding ceremony was being held at the beach that Oscar's parents had private access to.
As you're walking down the aisle with your father, you start tearing up seeing Oscar wait for you at the alter. Everything you've always wanted is finally happening.
Once you reach the alter, your father gives your hand to Oscar. "Take care of my daughter." Your father smiles as tears form in his eyes.
"Forever and always." Oscar says to your father and takes your hand from him. Oscar walks you up the alter and you both look at Zak. Zak was officiating the wedding ceremony.
"The bride and groom have decided to say their vows to each other." Zak looks at you telling you to go first.
"Oscar Jack Piastri. I can't believe we're getting married after 4 months of knowing each other." You smile in disbelief that you're actually getting married. "I remember when we first met, we had a shot of tequila together cheering to new beginnings for both of us. That night Lando ended up wasted while I was a little bit tipsy. You drove us back to our hotel on an empty Las Vegas Strip. The song 'Downtown Lights' by the Blue Nile started playing in your McLaren and we found that we both loved this song. We sang it loudly while Lando was passed out drunk in the back seat. I didn't know it at that time but it was going to be alright because I found the love of my life." Oscar wipes the tears falling from his face while you continue to speak.
"That week was the first time coming back to the paddock in so long. I remember breaking down in Lando's room because of something an ex said about my papaya family and I. You were so worried about me even though our relationship was barely building. I remember you told me 'it's time to crack these locks from him and start throwing rocks at that past relationship.' After that night I circled you on the map of my heart and came back so strong." You finish your set of vows and the Oscar speaks his.
Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?
"Y/N Marie Norris. If you're shocked that we're getting married after 4 months of knowing each other. Well honey, I'll do you one better. I'm surprised I'm marrying a MILF." Everyone including you two laughed at the joke Oscar made about you being older. "But in all seriousness, I'm so happy I'm getting to marry you. I remember when you told me that night in Abu Dhabi that you loved me. I was the happiest man alive because I started to love you too." Tears start dripping from your face as you recall the night in Abu Dhabi.
"I know you have been through the slammer in your past relationship, but the universe knew your heart was always reserved for me. There was no reason to fight to alchemy because you're the one for me."
Once Oscar finishes his vows, Zak continues with the ceremony. You two put your rings on each other and Zake announces you two as Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.
Tumblr media
yourinstagram thank you to the man that dumped me, i found the man the universe reserved for me 💍🤍✨
oscarpiastri i love my milf wife 😏
yourinstagram LOVE, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GET ME PREGNANT BEFORE YOU CALL ME THAT landonorris you're basically a milf @/yourinstagram yourinstagram i'm only 26 😭 landonorris you're basically 30 at this point sister, you can't deny it. please give me a niece/nephew soon 🙏 leo can't be my only nephew, he needs a cousin charlesleclerc i agree with this. @/yourinstagram @/oscarpiastri please have a child soon so leo can have a play mate. alexandrasaintmleux preferably a human one so i can convince charles to give me one too @/yourinstagram @/oscarpiastri oscarpiastri i'll start working on it soon 🫡
user1 OSCAR'S COMMENT IS SO UNHINGE I LOVE IT HAHAHA
user2 i love that lando is playing along with it too HAHAHA they were always meant to be family 🥹 user3 i love that alexandra and charles are playing along too user4 maybe baby piastri might be coming soon 👀
Tumblr media
oscarpiastri honestly, who are we to fight to alchemy? mr. and mrs. piastri 💍
yourinstagram the love of my life 🥺🤍✨
liked by author
logansargeant so glad you found the girl of your american dreams
liked by author and yourinstagram
landonorris STOP RUBBING OFF ON MY MAN HE'S AUSTRALIAN yourinstagram excuse me @/landonorris he's legally mine now step aside
zbrownceo congrats @/yourinstagram and @/oscarpiastri 💍🧡
liked by author and yourinstagram
yourinstagram thank you zak for officiating the wedding. this wouldn't have happened without you 🥹
mclaren the papayas are now married 🥹🧡 congrats @/yourinstagram and @/oscarpiastri 💍 now we need papaya babies
racerbia please we need a papaya baby around the paddock @/yourinstagram and @/oscarpiastri 🥹👶🧡 yourinstagram we're working on it @/mclaren @/racerbia 🫡 user1 BABY PAPAYA IS IN THE WORKS!!!
Tumblr media
f1news A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN: After 4 months of knowing each other, Oscar Piastri and Y/N Norris, Piastri's teammate's sister, decided to tie the knot. This is definitely better than the disaster that happened last July with Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz.
Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Piastri!
user1 the way she went from thinking she lost the love of her life to then finding the love of her life on the team where she truly belonged at 🥹🧡
user2 CARLOS BETTER BE CRYING AT WHAT COULD'VE BEEN
user3 papaya love 🥺🧡
****
I haven't come around in so long But I'm making a comeback to where I belong
After your wedding and honeymoon, you shortly found out that you were 10 weeks pregnant. You didn't notice you were pregnant at first with all the traveling you do until you took a break on your honeymoon. At the end of the trip, you felt like you had a stomach bug but it wasn't. When you went to the doctor to check what was wrong, she calmed you down by telling you that you were pregnant.
You've never seen Oscar so happy in your life other than your wedding day; you were shock on the other hand. At the doctor visit you asked your doctor when she thought the baby was conceived and she said January 22. That was the night when you made love for the first time.
"I still can't believe I'm pregnant," you exclaim as you two were relaxing on the couch. Oscar puts his hands on your stomach and starts rubbing it. "I don't think I can go to the races anymore."
"I know honey, it's okay." Oscar kisses your lips softly. "I know you'll support your favorite guys no matter what."
"Actually you're my favorite, Lando is ..." As you were about to continue you started to remember the comment Lando put on your wedding post. "Lando is going to be so happy that he's getting a niece or nephew soon."
"I understood the assignment Lando, Charles, and Alexandra told me to do." You laugh together recalling how they all wanted you two to start having a child as soon as possible.
****
For your 27th birthday, you decided to celebrate in Miami where Lando and Oscar were racing at. Even though Oscar wasn't on the podium that day, you were so happy for Lando. Finally Lando got his first ever win in F1.
Once Lando got away from the crowd and back into his private room in the garage, you decided to congratulate him. "Congrats little bro. It's been a long time coming." You hug Lando tightly but then he pulls away feeling your 15 week baby bump.
"Y/N are you pregnant?" Lando asks still on his high of happiness, you nod yes and Lando gets more excited. "YES THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!"
"That's why she hasn't been coming to the races because we wanna make sure the baby is safe." Oscar explains to a very happy Lando.
"My doctor finally approved me to travel to certain countries. I'm making a comeback to where I belong." You smile as Lando hugs you one more time.
****
The next race you went to was Emilia Romagna Grand Prix, you were currently 18 weeks pregnant. You decided to stay in Oscar's private room since you wanted to ditch the crowds.
Once the race was over and the crowds went home, Oscar, Lando, and Charles with Alexandra came into Oscar's private room to see you. You had messaged Alexandra earlier telling her you wanted to catch up with her and meet baby Leo.
"Hey Y/N ..." Alexandra stops talking after seeing your growing baby bump. "OH MY GOD YOU'RE PREGNANT!!!" Charles finally comes in with baby Leo in his hands.
"You understood the assignment." Charles smiles at Oscar and gives him a side hug. "Congrats my friend."
Your celebration of happiness was interrupted by a Spanish man knocking on your door, "Lando where are you?"
Lando opens the door wide to let the Spanish driver in, "What's up Carlos?"
"I just wanted to congratulate you on getting 2nd. It was one hell of a fight." He smiles at Lando until he looks around and is confused what's going on. "Why are you guys here?" Asking Charles and Alexandra.
Alexandra, happy for your bundle of joy says, "Y/N is pregnant. Isn't it exciting?"
"It is," you smile at Carlos with your pregnancy glow radiating off you. "Oscar was so excited when we found out we were going to have a baby girl. As soon as we told Lando about the gender, him and Oscar were online shopping on the couch together." You look back at Alexandra telling her about your pregnancy.
"My niece needs to have the best of the best. Oscar and I were looking at the McLaren merch to see if the factory can make baby versions of it." Carlos didn't care what Lando was saying because all of his attention was on you. Oscar's hands were wrapped around you and your midsection. "Carlos are you listening?"
"Yeah," Carlos coughs. "Congrats on your pregnancy Y/N and Oscar." Carlos says and leaves the McLaren room.
Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads Beer sticking to the floor Cheers chanted, cause they said There was no chance, trying to be The greatest in the league Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me
It was the end of the Monaco Grand Prix, Charles had won the race and Oscar was in second place. As soon as Oscar parked his car and ran out to you so he can hug and kiss. All cameras were on you two as this was the first time you were showing your baby bump to the public. Before Oscar went up to the podium, he kneeled down and kiss your baby bump.
The rest of the McLaren plus Lando, lifted Oscar away from you so that he can get to the podium. There Oscar and Charles got their trophies while you and Alexandra were smiling happily at them. Once the national anthems were played, the drivers got to spray each other with champagne.
There's no chance to be the greatest in league due to Max's dominance in F1, but you knew Oscar was on a high right now in life. From getting married, to soon having a baby girl, and now getting his first podium of the season. Life was just beautiful.
These blokes warm the benches We been on a winning streak He jokes that it's heroin but this time with an "E"
Once Charles was done with his post race interview, the interviewer starts talking to Oscar. "Congrats Oscar on your first podium of the season and becoming a father soon. It's amazing how these two happened weeks apart."
"Thank you for the congratulations. From getting married at my home country, to finding out we'll be having a baby girl, to now getting my first podium of the season. I'm truly on a high with life right now." Oscar smiles at the camera knowing that you're watching the post race interview with Lando.
"Right now McLaren is in 3rd place for constructor's standings compared to last year's standings at 6th place. Tell me what you and Lando are doing for the team." The interviewer asks.
"Well Lando has been on a winning streak getting podiums after China but to be honest we're not doing anything different. It's all my wife's doing. I joke with her that she's like heroin but this time with an 'E' at the end." Everyone except for Carlos in the room laughs at Oscar's little joke.
"And soon you're going to be having a baby girl." Charles adds to the conversation. "You'll have two lucky charms on track." They both smile at the interviewer before they move on to Carlos' interview.
This happens once every few lifetimes
Tumblr media
yourinstagram this happens once every few lifetimes 🌊 ✨
tagged oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri thank god for the alchemy or else our love would've never created this ✨
liked by author
taylorswift congrats mama can't wait to meet her
liked by author
user1 mother swift approves of oscar and y/n using the alchemy lyrics 🥹
user2 MOTHER IS ACTUALLY BECOMING A MOTHER AHHHHH
mclaren BABY PAPAYA COMING SOON 🥺👶🧡✨
liked by author
Tumblr media
baby papaya coming soon 🧡
tagged yourinstagram
mclaren baby papaya is already so loved by the mclaren family 🥺🧡
liked by author and yourinstagram
racerbia yay! i get to be a tita aunt to a little papaya 🧡
liked by author and yourinstagram
landonorris IM CALLING DIBS ON BEING THE GOD FATHER
yourinstagram i already picked a god father and it isnt you landonorris WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT ISN'T ME? charlesleclerc it's me and alex landonorris WHAT!! @/yourinstagram @/oscarpiastri say sike 😭 oscarpiastri she's messing around with you of course your the god father landonorris thank god 😅 charlesleclerc have another one already so i can be the god father to that one yourinstagram LET ME HAVE MY BABY FIRST
user1 not lando and charles fighting over who's gonna be the god father 🤣
user2 i love how they’re calling the baby "baby papaya" instead of "baby piastri" 🥺
Tumblr media
f1news BABY PAPAYA COMING SOON: After Oscar's first podium of the season, the couple has announced that they are expecting their first bundle of joy weeks after getting married. The driver had made it know that Y/N Piastri, his wife and teammate's sister, was expecting after running to her before he went on the podium.
Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Piastri on your bundle of joy!
user1 OSCAR MOVING IN THE FAST LANE WHILE CARLOS IS GETTING HIS HEART PUNCTURED LIKE HIS WHEEL 🤣
user2 wonder how carlos is feeling after seeing his ex fiance go from getting married to now being pregnant in a span of a few weeks
user3 who cares because he missed his shot of having this in his life
user4 did you see that carlos was about to cry while oscar was talking about y/n and the baby? 😭
tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3
248 notes · View notes
daydreaming-nerd · 1 day
Text
The Prophecy (Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Bonus Chapter
AN: I'm happy you guys wanted a bonus chapter because I totally wanted to write one. I'm happy this series was so loved and I can't wait for you guys to see what Azriel fics I'm cooking up next!
Part 1, Part 2 ,
Azriel's Verson: Part 3 (final)
Lucien's Verson: Part 3 (final)
Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 
Warnings: some fluffy smut, a little Azriel dirty talk, and fluffy ending.
Word count: 2,356
Tumblr media
I take a shaky breath and take in the sheer desperation on his face, “I love you too Azriel,” I laugh feeling another tear slip down my cheek. 
He doesn’t waste a moment, stepping through my threshold and cupping my cheek to place a searing kiss on my lips. I melt into him, feeling his clothes soaking my own as my nightgown clings to my skin. His hands are on my waist, scarred and cold from the elements but still so intoxicating. My arms wrap around him pulling him further into the entryway. I hear him slam the door shut with his boot drowning out the sound of rain leaving only the music of our ragged breaths as he kisses me deeper. 
He pulls away to press his forehead to mine, his wet hair and skin causing drops of water to cascade down my own face. 
“I love you so much,” he breathes cupping my cheek to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “My mate.”
I feel my back hit the wall behind me rattling the small mirror mounted on it. Azriel’s hands were greedily pulling on every inch of me. His kiss was frantic and needy, like the man had been deprived of any warm touch for months and come to think of it he probably had.  
I feel his hands wandering up the bare expanse of my thighs. Oh how I had dreamed of feeling that scarred skin leaving its brand on me. I had dreamt of nothing else for years. He lifted me onto a small table and I heard a vase crash and shatter on the floor next to us. I immediately rip away from him but it doesn’t stop him from trialing his lips down my neck, like he might cease to exist if his lips and hands aren’t all over me. 
“Azriel my vase!” I exclaim laughing at how he isn’t even phased by the broken ceramic on the ground. “We’re going to destroy my house!”
He smirks against my lips, “Then how about we take this upstairs?” he smiles. 
There’s a frenzy of shadows and then I’m in my own bedroom, the fireplace roaring to life providing us with light. I had never been so thankful for such blessed light as Azriel peeled off his soaking wet shirt and discarded it onto the chair by the fire. It would dry in no time.
I allowed my eyes to wander the expanse of his body. Sure I had seen the male shirtless before, I had bumped into him taking a steam after the legendary snowball fight 300 years ago and nearly fell to my knees. But this time? This time it was different because he was mine, and he was looking at me with just as much hunger as I did him. 
“Say it again,” he commanded, his voice dropping an octave as he took a languid step forward placing his hands on my waist. 
“Say what again?” I tease placing a kiss on his bare chest, something I always dreamed of doing. Cauldron help this male, I was probably never going to get my fill of him. 
His hand slides under my chin tilting it up, “You know what,” he says more sternly. 
I lean in close just brushing my lips against his, “I love you.” 
A low growl emits from him as he pulls me into his kiss once more. He pressed his body into me the evidence of his arousal grazing my stomach.  I take a couple steps back, my legs hit the bed and before I can let myself fall onto it he slips the straps of my too thin nightgown off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. As soon as he feels my hardened nipples brushing against his chest he looks down taking me in. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous, I can’t believe you’re all mine,” he murmurs into my lips, those scared hands wandering over my exposed skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. 
“Says you,” I trailing my fingers from his shoulders, over his pecs and down his abs. My hands dip to his breeches where I can see him ready and wasting, but just as my fingers slip under the hem my wrists are yanked up. 
“Not yet,” he smiles deviously, landing a quick kiss on my  lips. “Lie down on the bed, I want to properly worship my mate.” he orders and if his words. 
I hang on every word he says as they drip from his mouth like honey. I let my bare back lay down on the soft sheets of the bed, and his eyes take in every inch of me from where he stands at the edge of the bed.  He kneels on the bed, grabbing one of my ankles and bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss to it. The gesture is so simple yet so intimate, so arousing. Scared hands and soft lips trail up the expanse of my leg, the feather light touches making me grow wetter and wetter where I needed him most. His mouth stops at my inner thigh leaving a light bite mark on the inside of it.
“Fucking perfect,” he mutters between my legs, kissing me everywhere but where I want him to. 
 My breath hitches as I feel the heat of his breath on my sex. Those hazel eyes flit up to me as he slowly lowers his head to my folds. He licks a long stripe up my center and I find my hands tangling in his silken night black hair, pulling and tugging on it as he feasts on me. 
“Oh gods Azriel!” I cry out.
The sight of Azriel’s head between my legs, licking and sucking like a starved man was erotic enough to have me curling my toes. But the sound of his mouth on me? The warm wet tongue flicking my clit, the moans of pleasure that reverberated through him? That was truly something to behold. 
I feel one of his fingers enter me and I gasp, arching my back off the bed. A scarred hand instantly splays over my stomach, keeping me down. I can feel Azriel’s smirk between my legs as he adds another finger, curling them both to hit that spot that has me letting out a cry. He smiles again, seemingly loving his ability to make his mate scream as he shakes his head back and forth, tongue moving over my clit at a pace that has me trying to arch on the mattress as I feel my claimax wash over me. 
“Azriel!” I scream as my legs shake and tremble beneath him. 
His hazel eyes watch me intently as I come undone for him, eagerly lapping at my clit taking everything I give him. Even when I’m left as a mess of shallow breaths I still want more of him. 
He places one last kiss against my clit, “My mate makes such pretty sounds for me,” he says smugly. 
Soft lips covered in my arousal find their way to my hips then my stomach, then the curve of my breast. My breath hitches again as I realize how painfully hard my nipples are and I wonder if it's the bond making me feel this way. The need for more.. more, more, more, more.
“Beautiful,” he breathes, placing a kiss to each taut nipple earning a groan for me. 
“Azriel please, I need you,” I beg, running my hands through his hair. 
“Shhh I feel it too,” he says, kissing my neck, confirming that the bond is screaming at him too. “Do you know how it felt to come over all the time and find you wearing nothing but those tiny little nightgowns you love so much? How badly I wanted to rip them apart with my teeth and have you right there?” he groans leaving love bites 
I let out a small gasp at his words and then think of all the times I felt the same, “What about me?” I laugh as he trails kisses over my jaw, his hard on pressing into my core. I wasn’t sure when he rid himself of his pants but I wasn’t going to complain. “All those times I saw you come back from training, sweaty and dirty? Or the time I ran into you outside of the steam room and you nearly dropped your towel?” 
He pulls back to look at me, “I was a fool then, and never again. My mate will have me whenever and however she wants,” he groans pressing a deep kiss to my lips. 
“Say it again,” I ask, caressing his face to move the hair from his eyes. 
“I love you y/n,” he breathes, kissing me slow. 
In one slow movement he enters me fully, a guttural cry falling from my mouth as he buries his head in the crook of my neck. 
“Oh gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans pulling out slowly and thrusting in again. 
His hips move in leisurely motions, as if he’s wanting to savor every moment of being inside me. My hands rake down his back as his fervent sounds in my ear have me needing more of him. 
“Azriel harder,” I whimper, digging my fingernails into his broad shoulders. 
He smirks and presses a lazy kiss to my ear before slamming into me harder. I let out a strangled sound as I grasp onto him, needing anything to try and ground myself. 
“Gods you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans slamming his hips into mine. “Everything about my mate is perfect,” he says, sucking the peak of my breast into his mouth. 
“Oh gods Azriel its so-” my words get caught in my throat as he hits a particularly sensitive part of me. 
The sounds of skin slapping reverberates throughout the room as I feel myself quickly approaching the cliff I was just standing at the edge of. I’ve been told my whole life that sex is different with your mate, that it’s more than just pleasure, it's the binding of souls. I never believed a word, not caring for semantics and retellings from newly mated pairs who couldn’t  keep their hands off each other at dinner parties. But now I understand all of it.
“I love you so much,” Azriel mutters, his voice even deeper and rougher than before. 
“I love you too Az,” I pant brushing the hair from his face. 
“Fuck you’re squeezing me so tight baby,” he groans as his face contorts with pleasure. “You’re going to cum aren’t you?” he asks the cocky persona coming back. 
“Y-yes,” I choke out as I feel him piston into me harder. 
“Are you on that special tonic?” he asks. 
“Yes, I am,” I breathe out, my voice sounding ragged. 
“Thank the fucking Cauldron!” Azriel praises his snap into me. 
The feeling of him sliding in and out so fluidly, the fullness of him, the euphoria that comes every time he hits that spot, it has me falling apart, tears drifting down my face. 
“Azriel I’m gonna-” 
“Cum for me darling!” he growls and I feel him getting closer as well. 
I cum hard with his name on my lips, feeling the pleasure go through every nerve of my body like a wave. I feel my pussy clenching around him and the second I do I hear him roar, his power trembling the house. 
“Oh gods y/n!” he screams and sputters inside of me the warmth of his seed enough to make me want to go for round two just so he can fill me up again. 
He collapses on me for a moment, laying his head on my chest as we both pant frantically. I subconsciously run my fingers through his hair, soothing both him and myself. He rolls off me and pulls me to lay on his chest, tilting my head up so he can see me. 
“I love you so, so much,” he smiles, placing kisses on my face. “My beautiful, smart, caring, hilarious, perfect mate.” he says accentuating each word with a kiss. 
“I love you too Az,” I smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek. 
There was a time I thought I would never have this. Never have him. Yet here I was, lying in his arms. My body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat from the pleasure he pulls from me. My lips swollen and red from his kisses I never thought I would receive. I’ve dreamt of nothing else for 400 years. 
“What do we do next?” I laugh realizing that all this had started from him coming to my door in the middle of a storm. Outside I could still hear thunder and rain pouring onto the roof. 
“Well the conditions are too treacherous for me to fly home so I’ll have to crash here,” he smirks, rolling over so that  he’s on top of me. “I hope you don’t mind,” he says, kissing my lips. 
“I suppose I’ll take you in for the night,” I tease. “But I meant after that.” 
“When the rain stops we’ll gather the family and have the mating ceremony and then you’ll be mine officially,” he says, kissing my cheek. “And then later on I’ll work on giving you some winged babies,” he smiles. 
My heart flutters, “Oh Az really?” I gasp grasping both of his cheeks. 
“Absolutely,” he nods. “But not until much later, we have all the time in the world and I’ll need to get my fill of you before I can even think about sharing your attention with a couple of baby bats.” he jokes. 
“Speaking of getting my fill,” I smirk, rolling him over so that I’m straddling him. “I have 400 years of yearning to make up for,” I tease, placing a kiss on his chest.
“Is that so?” he laughs, throwing his hands behind his head. 
“It sure is shadowsinger, you think you were in misery these past few months?” I sink myself onto his cock and both of us groan. “Get comfortable mate, you’re in for a night of ravishing.” 
(If you liked this check out my masterlist I have a bunch of good Az on it's way and I'm doing a Ruhn mini series AND i'm currently writing a poly! bat boys x reader that's going to be pure smut because I've been reading the L.O.R.D.S series lol)
Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark
Taglist: @thatgirlangelb , @melmo567 , @hanatsuki-hime  , @going-through-shit , @sirenpearldust , @randomperson1234sblog , @sunshineangel-reads , @cleverzonkwombatsludge , @sassybluebird , @dyingsinglecuzimfangirl , @deeshag , @0nlystellaa , @annaaaaa88 , @olive-main , @mirandasidefics , @bookishbroadwaybish , @darlingbravebelle , @phoenix666stuff , @lotusnegra , @lovelypru, @hailqueenconquer , @hardcoremarvelfan , @fantasyandshit , @acourtofbooksandinsanity ,  @batboyrhyrhy , @historygeekqueen , @slytherintaco , @saltedcoffeescotch , @azrael-22 , @sidthedollface2 , @thestartitaness , @crazylokonugget , @quinzzelx
163 notes · View notes
orcasoul · 2 days
Text
I'll Come Back For You
Summery: Letting go is hard to do for both of you. But as they say, if you love someone, you have to let them go.
Warnings: Death, Grieving, Mention of Injury, Swearing, No Use of Y/N.
Italics indicate inward thinking.
Tumblr media
Joel sat on the porch swing, staring lovingly at how the late evening rays illuminated the varying deep shades of your hair, how it flowed down past your shoulders and blew gently in the summer breeze. God you're a work of art. He'd taken so much for granted before, but now, every time he casts his gaze upon you he savours each and every second.
The slope of your nose, the faint lines at the corners of your eyes, the few strands that have began to turn grey, even the way you hold yourself. If Joel had his way, these moments would never end. These are the moments when his life makes sense. Where he can breathe and just.... be. Where the gnarled roots of wretched sorrow and anger briefly release their strangling grip on his tormented soul.
In these precious moments, in your presence he can once again feel a spark of life ignite inside him, can almost feel the broken shards of his heart piecing themselves back together. He doesn't care how many times Tommy and Ellie have expressed their concern for his mental well being, or how they've begged him to open up to them and not shut them out. He doesn't need their pity or 'support'. You're all he needs.
"You're staring again," you chuckle, while turning to stare at Joel's warm eyes. A fond smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry, I guess I am," he replies softly, but his tone is anything but apologetic. "I just can't help it. You're so beautiful." You smile sadly, looking down at Joel's hand. You reach over, instinct and love propelling you to take hold and lace your fingers with his.
But at the last moment, you stop and drop your hand to your lap. There was no need to look at Joel to know the anguish and longing written all over his face. Hell, you feel it too. The deep rooted need to feel each other's skin and warmth is overwhelming for you both. But it's no use. It can't happen now.
"So are you," you whisper affectionately. Your smile fades and Joel furrows his brow in confusion. "You've been awful quiet this evening, sweetheart. Something on your mind?" Joel asks, his voice laced with concern. You close your eyes and sigh. You don't want to answer. You don't want to have to do this, but it's for the best.
This cannot be ignored anymore. You refuse to sit by and watch the man you love retreat further and further into himself, downing in a sea of sorrow. As long as you are here, you are a painful reminder. You had hoped your presence would have helped Joel to come to terms with what happened, reassuring him that it was beyond his control.
There was nothing anyone could have done. But for all your efforts, you can see now that your being here means Joel is stuck in limbo. He needs to find a way forward, to find something to keep fighting for, and you fear that can't happen unless you give him the space grieve and heal.
"Joel...," your voice wobbles as you struggle against the lump in your throat. "It's time. You need to let me go. You have to allow yourself to move on." Joel's soulful brown eyes meet yours, glistening with unshed tears and you feel your heart breaking for him. 'I... I can't," his voice almost sounds pleading, "I can't do this without you."
He desperately wants to hold you, to keep you in his arms forever. He's never loved any woman the way he loves you. Love isn't a strong enough word to describe the depth of his devotion and affection for you. You are (were) his life, his joy, the very beat of his heart, a missing piece of his soul.
He can't do this, not again. How can he even put one foot in front of the other if you are not in step with him? Without you he will remain hollow, aimless, just a simple lifeform existing from one day to the next. You take a shuddering breath, hoping your next words can convince him.
"Yes, you can, baby. You're the strongest person I know. I know it will be hard and I'm sorry... "I"m so sorry it has to be like this-," "Don't," Joel cut you off gently, shaking his head, "You have nothing to apologise for," "Neither do you," you reply, matter of factly. Joel looked straight ahead, his jaw ticking as he tries to tamp down the anger festering away inside of him.
The self loathing he deserves for failing another person he loves. "I should have been there to protect you." "Oh Joel," you sigh, sadly, "How many times do I have to say it? We cannot control everything around us. You need to accept that life has it's own plan and what will happen, will happen. It's. Not. Your. Fault." You enunciate the last sentence with conviction, tears threatening to chock you at the obvious ruination haunting Joel's visage.
Even from his side profile the pain is clearly evident. A moment of silence follows, after which, Joel turns to face you, eyes redened, tears now trailing the curve of his cheeks. "I love you so much," his pained words are barely above a whisper, as if his grief is physically crushing his windpipe. "And I love you. I always have," you reply softly as your own tears begin to fall.
You want nothing more than to comfort him, to take him in your arms and shield him from his suffering, to wipe his tears away and kiss his soft salt and pepper curls. But it's impossible and you feel so helpless, so useless.... and you hate that. How cruel its, to be so close and yet, so far away.
"And that's why...," you take a deep breath, your own sorrow weighing heavily on you with what you now have to do. "I have to go." Joel's eyes widen but before he can protest, you continue, "I'm sorry," the regret choking you is stifling, "I wanted to help you find a way through this, but I can see now that I'm doing more harm than good. You need to be able to mourn, Joel. And you need to accept the love and support of those around you. You still have family here and they want so desperately to help you, but you've pushed them away. I can't bare to see you wasting away like this."
Somewhere, deep down Joel knew that this time would come, he knew you couldn't stay here forever, but how the hell can he let you go? It would be like expecting him to live without breath in his lungs. "Please, y... you can't go..." Joel's voice wavered as he continued., "I... I can't lose you again, sweetheart." You try to reassure him with a gentle smile, "You'll never never truly lose me, darling."
A sad sigh escapes you, "But you will lose yourself if you continue down this path, and I won't let that happen. Ellie and Tommy are so worried about you. You need them, even if you don' realise it." "How am I supposed to live every day without you? I just...," Joel lets out a shaky breath, rubbing his hand over his face, "I Cant. I've lost too much. I can't do it again."
The defeat in Joel's voice, his eyes, his posture causes your gut to twist up. You want to stay, it's tearing you apart inside, feeling as though you're abandoning him in his hour of need. But staying would only make things worse in the long run. Sometimes you have to make difficult decisions for the greater good. It will be hard for him, but he still has so much to live for, so much love to give, even if he's blind to it right now.
"Joel," you began, voice gentle but firm, "You can. The Joel Miller I know can do anything he puts his mind too." A barely visible smile appears at one corner of Joel's mouth, but as soon as it appears, it's gone. "I want you to do something for me, darling," " anything!" Joel replies in earnest. If you could physically caress his cheek right now, you would. It feels so wrong to not be able to touch him. All you can do is shuffle closer and lean into his tired face.
"I want you to promise me that you'll keep going, that you'll allow yourself to feel everything you need to, and that you'll lean on your family. Promise me that you'll live the best life that you can for yourself, for them... and for me, please." Joel is lost for words. He's done a lot of bad things in his life, but he must have done something good at some point for the universe to bring you to him. He doesn't deserve the endless love and concern you continue to bestow upon him, even in death.
Your bright and hopeful eyes bring Joel a sense of clarity. This is the last thing he can do for you, the last thing you'll ever ask of him, and he will do it, for you. No matter how difficult it will be. He suddenly doesn't feel so lost and adrift anymore. You have given him a new purpose. He will honour your last request until his dying breath. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, Joel whispers, "I promise."
You release a sigh of relief, a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders at Joel's reassurance. He'll be alright. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll come back for you. One day, we'll be together again. But I have to go now," you pause, trying to fight the tears that threaten to fall again, "I won't say goodbye, cause this isn't goodbye. It's see you later."
Joel swallows the sob trying to climb up his throat. His heart is screaming at him to beg you to stay, but he knows when your mind is made up, it's made up. And you've decided he needs this. As much as he can't fathom not seeing you again for god knows how long, he takes comfort in knowing this separation is temporary. He will hold you again, laugh with you again and spend eternity by your side.
"I love you," Joel sniffled, knowing this is it, woe burying itself deeper into his soul. "I love you too," you declare, devotedly. "see ya later?" The words leave Joel's lips as a hopeful question. "See ya later," you confirm lovingly, and with that you fade into the soft golden twilight.
6 Years Later...
Joel couldn't focus, his eyelids like lead and his body trembling. The voices around him seemed distant and muffled one second, then loud and sharp the next. Throbbing pain bloomed through his torso, exacerbated by each breath he took. "What do you mean there's nothing more you can do?" Was that Tommy? "You can't just give up on him!" Tommy shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and fear.
"I'm so sorry, but all we can do now is try to make him as comfortable as we can." Darkness encompassed Joel as the voices began to fade once more. When his eyes opened again, he's met with the grave faces of Ellie and Tommy. He tries to sit up but his limbs feel too heavy, even turning his head is a challenge, and the oppressive atmosphere shrouding the room tells Joel the situation is... bad.
"What-" "Shhh...," soothed Ellie with tears in her eyes. "You're in the hospital." Joel swallowed thickly, wincing as his body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He slowly turned his head to see Tommy standing at the other side of his bed. His blotchy, tear streaked face caused Joel's stomach to twist up in knots. At that moment, it all came rushing back to him.
The ambush while on patrol with Tommy, the broken baseball bat protruding from him (again), Tommy heaving his battered body onto his own horse so he could keep him upright on the journey back. He's been in dire situations more times than he'd like to remember but this time it's... different, both Tommy and Ellie's sombre mien thickening the atmosphere as every second passes.
And that's when it dawned on Joel; This isn't just bad, this is something he won't come back from. "Tell me...," Joel mumbled, weakly. Tommy cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even, "The uh... the doctor..," Tommy lowered his head, shaking it as if in disbelief. Normally, Joel would snap at Tommy to 'spit it out' whenever he fumbled his words, but not this time. Not when his baby brother is clearly struggling to keep it together.
Tommy sighed, lifting his gaze to meet Joel's. "The doctor said you have internal bleeding and uh... there's nothing more they can do." Nothing more they can do. The words echo loudly in Joel's ears. He's had many close calls over the years. He'd used up his nine lives a long time ago and now his number was up. Our luck had to run out sooner or later. Tess' last words return as a grim reminder of the fragility of life in this world.
A part of Joel always knew he'd meet his end sooner rather than later, but being faced with that reality now.... well, nothing could have ever truly prepared him for this moment, the finality of his tumultuous life. Joel remained still, staring up at the ceiling while it sank in, a barrage of emotions crashing over him, simultaneously; Fear of the unknown, worry for the family he'll leave behind, regret for so many past mistakes, but also... acceptance. After everything he feels unexpectedly ready.
He'd kept his promise to you everyday for the past six years. He'd rebuilt his fragile relationship with Ellie. It took many deep and uncomfortable conversations and he always gave her space when she needed it, but slowly the cracks disappeared and the two became closer than ever, he even became a doting grandpa to JJ and a devoted uncle to Dylan.
The past mistakes with Tommy could never truly be erased, but he and Tommy both came to realise that they couldn't and more importantly, didn't want to dwell on it anymore, even Maria had come to accept Joel and gave him a second chance to start over with no animosity between them. He'd done that for you, just as you'd asked of him. Everyday Joel had kept your memory alive as he'd lived the best life he could, and now he's reached the end.
"Joel...," Ellie's quivering voice broke through Joel's hazy mind. The woefulness behind her tears caused Joel's heart to clench. "Come here, kiddo," comforted Joel as he slowly lifted an arm to embrace his adopted daughter. Her warm tears fell onto his neck as he gently rubbed the back of her head. "It's...okay. It'll be okay," he gulped while trying to be strong for her. "How can it be okay? How will any of us be okay without you?" Ellie wept, voice shaking with each breath.
"You're strong and you h... have people who care about you. Don't make the sa... same mistake I did," Joel told her as he thought about how he spent so long pushing people away. "I love you," she breathed out quietly into his ear, and Joel closed his eyes, sighing in contentment. "I love you too, baby girl. You take good... care of JJ,... you hear me?" "I will," Ellie promised. Joel then looked to Tommy, who's head hung low in shame and remorse. "This is my fault," his jaw clenched in anger, the same way Joel's always does, "I'm so fucking sorry. I should have been quicker, should have killed that bastard sooner!"
"Hey...," Joel gently interrupted, "It's not your... fault. We were outnumbered." Tommy shook his head, seemingly unable to accept his failure. "Tommy," Joel began, in a no nonsense tone, causing his brothers' eyes to meet his own, "You got us out... of there and got us home. That's what... matters! So don't you dare b... blame yourself for th... this.
Tommy was speechless for a moment. He grabbed Joel's hand and asksed, "Who's gonna keep my ass in check around here now?" "I'm s...sure Maria has that covered...," it was becoming more difficult for Joel to talk, "and if not this one will do the job," he quipped, pointing to Ellie with a small chuckle but he immediately winced as shooting pains radiated around his lower abdomen. "Easy...," Tommy rested a comforting hand on Joel's shoulder.
As the hours wore on, Joel became weaker, his breathing more laboured. Medication helped to ease the worst of the pain, even though, at first he refused it, insisting that it was pointless to waste it on him. It was only after Ellie had begged him to take it, that he finally relented. Maria and Dina came to say a teary farewell but left the children with a babysitter, as Joel didn't want their last memories of him to be a bruised and bloodied man on his deathbed.
Day bled into night. Ellie and Tommy kept vigil at Joel's bedside while he slipped in and out of consciousness. Joel became even more breathless, his golden hue became pale and clammy. It wouldn't be long now. A sombre silence filled the air, holding more weight than any words could. But even if Joel wanted to speak, he found he suddenly lacked the strength to even open his mouth. An exhaustion he'd never experienced before swept over him like a warm blanket, along with a bone deep, desperate need to sleep. Just for a bit. I'll sleep just for a bit.
*****
"Joel?..." a warm hand on his cheek and a soft voice he'd know anywhere, resounded in his ears like a sweet melody. His eyes shot open and he gasped in shock as he took in the image of you standing beside him and... touching him! Maybe he's dreaming? "Hi, baby," you smiled down at him with tears in your eyes, stroking his patchy jaw, tenderly. "You're here," he sputtered in disbelief.
"I promise I'd come back for you," you replied soothingly. And that's when Joel knew without a doubt he's not dreaming. As if on instinct Joel reached for your hand, clasping it in his own, bringing it to his mouth and pressed his lips to your soft palm. "I missed you," he cried, unable to believe that the moment he's waited years for is finally upon him. How he missed your delicate touch.
He'd dreamed of your embrace every night for the past six years, and now at long last, it's real. Joel swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling himself up, the absence of pain and the rejuvenation of his 'body', another confirmation of his new reality. Joel wastes no time pulling you into his broad chest and you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
You breathe in his woodsy and coffee scent, while at the same time Joel's nose buries itself in your hair, slowly inhaling your scent, one hand splayed across your back and the other cupping the back of your head. Tears stream down both of your faces as years of longing and loneliness come to an end. Now only forever awaits. "I missed you too," you wept, "So much." "I did it, darling. I did it all for you, every day," Joel whispered into your ear. You pull back, enough to look into his eyes, eyes filled with relief and love.
Gently holding his cheek, you reply, "I know. And I'm so proud of you. Now you can rest, my love." As the tears begin to dry and emotions calm somewhat, Joel realises you two weren't the only one's crying. Turning around his heart sinks and chest tightens as he has to witness Tommy holding a sobbing Ellie, while his own tears silently fall. On the bed, Joel's body lies motionless, drained of colour but with a serene peace adorning his relaxed features.
He remains frozen to the spot, wide eyed until you slip your hand into his, giving him a supportive 'I'm here' squeeze. "They'll be okay." You smooth your other hand up and down his arm. "They have each other and their families. They'll take care of them. And when the time comes, we'll all be together again." Joel answers with a silent nod, squeezing your hand in return. You know Joel through and through, and you know that he's always taken it upon himself to care for and protect those he loves.
But now that responsibility is his his no more. It'll be hard for Joel to relinquish said responsibility, which has been the staple in his life, but he has faith in Tommy, knowing he'll look after Ellie. They're family, blood or not. He can rest in that knowledge. "Joel...," he brings his attention back to you, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the smile plastered across your face. "I brought someone with me. Someone who has been waiting a long time to see you again."
Realisation of whom you are referring to flashes across Joel's face, but before the name can pass his lips, he hears the sweetest, most perfect voice say the word he hasn't been called in over twenty years. "Dad...," With bated breath, Joel slowly turned around, his mind struggling to function properly. There she is! His baby girl, standing in front of him, just as beautiful as he'd remembered her.
"Sarah...," Joel whispered in awe, frozen to the spot where he stood. 'Hi, old man," she smiled as she closed the gap between them. Her close proximity snapped Joel out of his statue like stance, quickly pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly to his chest. "I missed you," she cried into his chest, while wrapping her arms around his waist. "I missed you too," Joel choked out, "It's okay baby girl, I'm here, I'm here," he comforted her as his own tears joined hers.
He tenderly drew her head back, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes absorbing every beautiful inch of her features; Her expressive eyes that has passed onto her, that killer smile he'd always thought of so fondly, the blush of pink that always tinted her cheeks. God how he'd missed her. "You're grey," Sarah teased through her tears, running her fingers through his soft curls.
Joel chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth and admiration. "Your beautiful." He pulls her in for another hug and turns his head to you. You are crying silent, happy tears for them both. Joel reaches out, silently beckoning you over. With his daughter under one arm and the woman he loves under the other, he now feels complete.
His post cordyceps life has led to this very moment, to be with the people he loves the most. Of course his heart aches at the thought of leaving Tommy and Ellie behind, but it won't be forever. You're right. It's his time to rest. Sarah takes his hand in hers, her thumb rubbing over the scars on his knuckles. "Let's go home," she said, softly, "We have much to talk about."
With one last glance over his shoulder and a nod of confirmation, Joel is ready. A bright mist hovers where a wall should be, a calm and quiet ambience emanating from within. Together, with linked hands the three of you slowly disappear as you walk through the veil into forever.
37 notes · View notes
Text
Imagine that when a Guardian is risen for the first time, the only scar they bear is if they were killed by some unnatural force. If they're shot, they are left with a bullet wound. If they're stabbed, they're left with a stab wound.
One Human, he is risen by his Ghost as a Titan. Armor is fabricated onto his body, so he doesn't see what he looks like beneath. No less, the man fights his way through as per his Ghost's instructions, and makes his way to the Tower.
It's there that Shaxx brings him to the armory, and gives him some better armor to wear.
As the new Titan takes off what he wears, his bare torso shows.
Lord Shaxx nods, pointing to the man's chest. "Those are brave scars you bear, new Light. Wear them with pride and honor."
The Titan looks down at his chest. Beneath the breastbone, one long thin scar stretches from beneath his left arm to beneath his right, as though open once to cut away something within. He doesn't know what this scar is from, only that he apparently died getting it.
No less, the Titan armors up, and then spends the day training, practicing with his newfound Titan powers. He's a brute, with immense fury and strength, as any Titan would be. When done for the day, he goes to a small food stand in the Tower to grab a bite to eat. There are open terminals, which he makes his way toward, then begins searching.
"Lower breastbone scar" is what he searches for.
The results show up in mass quantities. All of them are about transgender FTM top surgery, and general gender affirming care.
The man next searches "transgender FTM". Once more the results give copious amounts of information. He sees that transgender is defined as somebody who was born differently than they feel their true gender is. They can choose to transition however they wish, or not at all.
Looking at his chest, knowing the scar is beneath his armor, the man's heart sinks, beats slowing near to a halt. He grips the terminal as his mind swarms with thoughts, and tears fill his eyes.
He never got to live as himself. He went for top surgery to fix a body that was his and make it liveable. And he never made it for whatever reason. He died during surgery. And he never got to live his life as himself.
The man breaks down sobbing, unable to handle this realization.
Why? Why couldn't he have lived his life as himself? Why did he have to die? Why—
The man types into the terminal what Guardians are. He sees they are people who once lived as mortals, but have died and been chosen by a Ghost to be risen, and live once more as defenders of the universe. These Guardians are wiped clean of their memories entirely. They remember basic functions, like breathing, eating, sleeping, speaking, and so on. But the reason why they maintain no memories is unknown. However, Guardians themselves say it's for one reason, and one reason only.
Guardians make their own destiny.
The man looks at himself. He looks at the terminal and his search on transness. Many trans people speak online about their anguish, rage, and sorrow, directed at themselves for being born "wrong", and that this anguish follows them forever until death. They cannot be free of it so easily.
But the man remembers none of this. He doesn't remember any self-hate, any self deprecation. He is, to himself, a man. Just a man without memories of pain and sorrow. Though he now feels this anger because he could not live his life as himself before, he thinks.
He is free of pain and self loathing. He is free of his past. He does not remember his life before being risen as his male self. He has no regrets or anger toward his past, only such feelings directed at the universe. But he thinks for a moment, about Guardians and destiny, that he is free of his past to create a new legacy of his own. And it's there he realizes it all.
He died during surgery, and was risen to live free as himself. Free of pain. Free of sorrow. Free of everything bad. He is free to live. Just live. Nothing holding him back. He is free.
The man's tears stop, and he looks at himself again. Finally, he smiles, his arms reaching around him as he holds his own body gently. With love.
He may not know who he was, but he doesn't want to. Deadnames stay dead. Dead selves stay dead. And in their place, he lives. A man. Through and through, not a doubt in his mind. And he will create a new destiny for himself as such.
34 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Title: While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Author: eyesofatragedy67
Artist: witchy-worm
Rating: Teen and Up
Summary: Cas's deal with the Empty broke Dean's heart. And no matter what they tried, they couldn't get him out.
They did manage to take care of Chuck, though, and with him out of the picture, Dean finally hung up his gear and built a life for himself. Or whatever passes for life when the one person you want to share it with most is out of reach.
But Dean's got his bar, Charlie at his side, and his guitar to keep him company on the nights memories pull him under.
And he hopes against hope that someday Cas will return to him.
Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester & Original Female Character, Past Major Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Canon Divergent After Episode 15x18, Fix It Fic, No Rebar Was Used In the Making of This Fic, The Empty Deal, Songfic, Dean Winchester POV, Non-linear Storytelling, Flashbacks, Nightmare Containing Non-Graphic Suicide, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dean Winchester/Castiel First Kiss, Cas Gets By With A Little Help From His Friends, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Loosely Inspired By Across the Universe, Finale What Finale
Posting on June 26
Keep reading for a short excerpt.
Arms laden with bags, Dean carefully closes the hood of Baby's trunk and makes his way to the bunker entrance. The lock sticks a little as he turns his key, and he makes a mental note to get some lead shavings so he can loosen it back up.
As he steps inside, he hears laughter echoing off the walls and quietly sets the bags down so he can have a moment to himself, a moment to just enjoy his loved ones taking a well-deserved break after the insanity of Michael and Belphegor and a fucking zombie apocalypse.
He can see Sam's mane of L’oréal commercial hair tossing as he uproariously laughs at something Cas said. Dean doesn't catch it, but whatever it is probably isn't meant to have Sam giggling like the teenage girl he is.
The look on Cas's face is one Dean has a strong affection for. That confused puppy head tilt that is sometimes genuine bafflement, but other times his way of indulging his favorite humans. Dean would give a lot to keep looks like that on Cas's face. Fuck knows he's been the cause of enough sadness and disappointment for the guy. Seeing him happy, at home, is everything to Dean.
But he can't tell Cas that. He can never tell Cas that he wants him to have every ounce of happiness he deserves.
Because he can't lose him. Dean can't lose the goddamn love of his life to happiness. And how fucked up is that?
So he takes these moments as he gets them. He treasures every single fucking smile, every small laugh, every gentle touch… and he doesn't say the words that have been scorching him from the inside for so damn long.
Some day that deal Cas made – the one Dean isn't supposed to know about – is going to come out in the wash, and Dean is going to lose one of the most vitally important people in his life.
But not today, dammit.
Dean smiles down at them, quietly chuckling as Jack walks into the room with a look so similar to Cas's that it's hard to see Lucifer in the kid now.
Leaning on the banister railing, Dean just watches them for a bit. There's nothing perishable in the bags, so there's no reason he can't just sit back and soak in this scene of his chosen family doing normal family shit.
The love he sees there, and the love he's hiding, are weights in his chest that he's not willing to give up. He'll fucking fight for them; he'll blow up the goddamn world if it means he gets to hold onto this.
He swipes away the stupid man tear that’s trailing down his face and focuses on the now. Because moments like this are what keep him going. This ragtag bunch of idiots are his motivation.
He'll be damned if he's gonna lose them. Even if it means he loses a bit of his heart in the process.
39 notes · View notes
kanerallels · 3 days
Text
I can't lie, day 3 of @spectre-week was the only one I had an immediate idea for and executed it in a normal, timely fashion. So here it is!!
The bays of Venator-class star cruisers were always busy, especially before and after missions. Pilots and engineers and droids dashing here and there, dealing with problem after problem. Taking steps towards fighting the war that was tearing its way across their galaxy.
In the center of the hubbub were the Y-wings— the ships that were flown in combat by the clones, and occasionally the Jedi. At the moment they were being serviced— by engineers, mostly, assisted by droids.
One of those droids, an orange-domed astromech, was supposed to be running diagnostics on his Y-wing. But C1-10P had never been particularly skilled at obeying orders.
According to some nosy life forms, he’d come off the assembly line defective, with a cranky and occasionally violent demeanor. C1-10P didn’t really care what they said, as it wasn’t really their business.
Oddly, that comment was how he’d ended up the navigational astromech for one of the clone pilots. CT-25253, who called himself Yancy, had requested him immediately upon hearing the droid overseeing him and the other astromechs complaining about him.
“Don’t worry,” he’d whispered to C1-10p as they’d headed to the Y-wing they would fly in together. “They say I’m defective, too— can’t read too well. The letters just swim in circles when I try. But hey, who needs a good attitude and reading to take down the Seppies?”
C1-10P was generally inclined to agree. Even if Yancy was overly cheerful and was convinced he needed a nickname. He claimed that a string of numbers wasn’t much of a name for anyone, even a droid, so he spent a lot of time trying to figure out the right one.
Not right now, though. Right now he was talking to the engineer examining their Y-wing. C1-10P didn’t really spend more time remembering being’s names than he had to, but considering this one was one of the few beings on the ship who seemed to be somewhat competent, it had stuck with him. 
Nita had blue and black streaked hair twisted back behind her head and olive green skin, and she was currently halfway under the Y-wing, messing with the engine. Yancy was leaning against the side of the ship, talking to her in a casual voice as she worked. C1-10P didn’t know what he was saying, but he got the gist. His pilot spent a lot of time talking to Nita, and unfortunately she didn’t seem to mind.
So busy the two of them were— Nita mostly with her work, Yancy entirely with charming Nita— that neither of them noticed the two brown-robed figures walking past. But C1-10P did.
He quietly watched the duo as they paused, watching the engineers at work. One was tall and didn’t have any of the hair most humans did, just dark brown skin and a serious expression edged with a bit of a frown.
The other was shorter, with lighter brown skin and brown hair looped behind her head. Hands tucked into her robe sleeves, she strolled closer, watching Yancy and Nita with a small smile on her face.
She glanced at C1-10P and winked. “Looks like you have your hands full, my friend,” she told him in a low voice. “I know the type. Good luck.”
“You have no idea,” C1-10P told her, and she laughed.
“Depa.” The stern-faced man spoke from a little ways away, his expression gentling a little as he spoke. “The captain is awaiting our arrival. We shouldn’t make him wait.”
“Of course, Master.” Giving C1-10P a smile, the woman said, “Until next time. Safe stars out there.”
Before C1-10P could so much as beep his gratitude— which wasn’t really something he’d do. Often. But maybe this time— she was heading on her way with her companion. Interesting, the droid thought.
But he didn’t have much time to ponder. Before he knew it, he’d be up in a Y-wing again, fighting a war that wasn’t his. But at least he had a good pilot and a better engineer. There wasn’t much more he could ask for at the moment.
26 notes · View notes
xxaraaq · 1 day
Text
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙑𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙚
masterlist
Synopsis | Alicent is a Godly woman who's morals stand high above everything else. She's given everything she's supposed to to the realm. She is so selfless, so fucking her husbands brother is the one thing she can keep to herself, right?
Word count | 1.5k
cw | Infidelity, spoken violence, corruption?
Authors note | Hi y'all. I know I haven't posted in literally the longest time ever but if I'm being honest I've been fighting with life it up until about a week ago it was beating my ass. Anyways, I'm back now, and I hope that this will make up for it, enjoy! Not edited.
Tumblr media
She is a good queen.
That’s what she thinks to comfort herself whenever the regrets of her past set in.  She has done her duty to the realm, giving birth to formidable sons and a beautiful daughter. She did what she was supposed to do, she just happened to do it with the wrong man.
No one could blame her for her choices. Her husband, a now senile, miserable old man who had no romantic love for her, failed in his role as her source of comfort. Once Rhaenyra went off and fucked her uncle in a brothel, she felt as though she had no true friends, no real allies.
No one except you.
You were the youngest of you, Viserys, and Daemon. Meaning that you had no real responsibilities. You had close to if not no chance of inheriting the iron throne, and you accepted it. Instead of struggling futilely trying to climb your way up the line of succession, you sat back, kicked your feet up, and enjoyed the life of a royal, of a Targaryen.
With you and Alicent being so close in age, you only being four years her senior, she found it easier to converse and jest with you compared to her husband and virtually everyone else around her. You were light hearted, a companion she often sought the company of. And even though her fathers concern grew about the influence you have on her that grows with each passing day, she paid it no mind. After all, she was the queen, and no one could tell her no.
It was the day the ‘rumors’ spread about Rhaenyra that you swooped in. Exhausted, you were the first person she went to to deliver the news. 
“Your sister has ruined almost any chance she has at marrying a suitable lord.” Alicent huffs, pacing back and forth around the room. You chuckle, amused by the entire ordeal. “She is a princess, maiden or not, my brother will surely find a wealthy husband for my niece.” You say, trying to ease her nerves. It obviously doesn’t help, her looking at you like you have two heads. “This is nothing to joke about. Your niece might run your entire house into ruin with the horrid accusations circling about. Have you no care in what happens?” She yells, desperate to get you to understand her frustration in it all. “Accusations? Alicent, my closest friend, you are no fool. You and I both know she fucked my brother in a whorehouse. You can speak freely with me, I promise you that.” You stand from your chair, making your way towards her. You love your niece and brother, but you’re also not one to deny the truth.
A tear slips from her eye, the stress of it all pouring down on her. “Oh, my dear, don’t cry.” You cup her face in your rough hands. A chill runs down her spine, something she’s never felt before. The look you have in your eyes is not what she’s seen from you before. Your eyes are dark, a smirk on your face that means nothing but trouble.
“You are a good woman, I must say. A loyal wife, an obedient daughter, a great friend. You never fail to be there to fulfill the needs and wants from others around you. But what about your needs, hmm?” You ask, tone sultry with an emotion she can’t pinpoint. “I-I don’t understand what you mean.” She stutters, growing shy from your demeanor. “You know what I mean, Alicent. When’s the last time you’ve truly felt fulfilled? Rhaenyra is too busy chasing after Daemon like a lost pup to spend time with you. Your husband is still stuck on Aemma even though he’s the reason she passed on in the first place, God's rest her soul. And your father, as much as he may love you, sees you as nothing more than a tool. I am the only one who has genuine intentions for you. The only things I care about ensuring is your well-being and happiness. A life full of not knowing what it’s like to be pleasured and to bring pleasure is not one worth living.” 
She knows that you mean this deep down in your heart, and that makes her want to give in all the more. ‘We can’t, what if someone finds out?” She asks, fear covering her features. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Who would be so impudent as to try and tell the King that his youngest brother is fucking his wife?” You say. 
She thinks for a second, then two, then three. “I’m… I’m not certain that having an affair would be for the best.” She says, backing away until she hits the edge of a table. “Let me show you what I could do for you, please? If you don’t like it, just say the word and I’ll never make an advance again, I promise this to you.” You almost plead, desperation laced through every word you speak. You have to have her, you’re sure you’ll die if you don’t.
Her silence fills the room, making your heart beat all the more harder. You almost dropped to your knees to thank the Gods for having you in their favor the moment she nodded her head yes. It was slow at first, a kiss on the neck, a light caress on her thigh, but then you stopped holding back, and you took her to that table in a matter of minutes. You held your hand to her mouth, trying to keep her as quiet as possible as you fucked into her tight cunt with a fervor you’ve never felt before. Everything about her drove you crazy as you corrupted her. The scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, the way she so futilely used her hand to try and push you from her as your thick cock plowed through her. 
Your secret relations kept on through the years, past the birth of Ageon and the rest of the children. The both of you knew that all four of them were yours, words not needed to be spoken to know that you were the one to sire the king's heirs and not the king himself.
As everyone grew, so did the tensions concerning the birth of your niece's sons. You had to laugh when you first saw Jace’s brown tufts of hair. How could she be so transparent about her infidelity? It was Rhaenyra’s actions that truly caused the hatred to stir within Alicent. You knew as well as everyone else that it was only a matter of time before things grew too large to keep a blind eye to it all.
The day that Aemond was maimed was one that nobody could ever forget. It was truly just a blurry haze of squeaky voices, deep insults, and the sound of a sheathed blade. The royal blood that covered the pavement that night would never be forgotten. You were the one that escorted the queen back to her room that night, providing an environment where her tongue could be as loose as need be. You shut the door, the creakiness that shows its age filling the silence. “That vile woman and her, her…” She couldn’t even get the words out, she was so furious. “Bastards? Say it Alicent, we all know it to be the truth.” You say, leaning against the stone wall. She groans, hand running over her face as she goes back to her habit of pacing the room. “The king is so shielded by the love he has for her, he can’t even see the vile things she has done.” She says, pupils so dilated with rage she can’t see straight. “Must I remind you that we are in the same boat as her, only that her’s has started to sink while ours stays afloat?” You say, quick to point out the sins she has also committed. The words catch in her throat, taken aback by your sudden correction. “Are you taking her side?” Her voice trembles with stress as she picks at her nail beds. “Do you not remember how I to this day sneak into you room through secrets passageways to fuck you to sleep every night? How I’ve filled your womb with so much seed I’ve impregnated you four times? Or have you forgotten how all our children are bastards as well?” You say, your voice sarcastically sweet as you grip her waist, pulling her backside flush to her chest. You lay kisses on her neck and shoulders, soothing her tenseness almost immediately. “What happened to our son is a tragedy that may never be avenged. But as he said, the reward for losing his eye was much greater than the pain he suffered.” You whisper in her ear.
She is a good queen, she thinks to herself. 
She is a good queen, even as she lets you fuck her up against the bed posts, mouth cover by your calloused hands once more to keep her muffled sounds of ecstasy hidden from the outside world
Tumblr media
-Nene
22 notes · View notes
thedeviltohisangel · 8 hours
Note
Angry Confession #8 for John and Cas
ANGRY CONFESSION BLURB PROMPT ERA
8. “Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”
a little tease of the wisconsin fight i have been screaming in DMs with @gloryofroses19 about...
also. this might get it's own multi-page interlude and read slightly different. cass might get on that forced march and it won't read exactly like the blurbs. my muses have a mind of their own and i don't try to reel them in. if you ever have a question or wonder how i might see something differently with hindsight, please always reach out!
AND. writing this broke me.
Tumblr media
The silence was deafening as Cass felt his words snap across her face. She almost wishes the pain was physical instead of the emotional torment that he was inflicting upon her. At least then she would know how to heal. She would know how to proceed. At least then she could find the courage to fight back and gain control of whatever storm was brewing between them.
"All I know, Cass, is that I want you to be happy. I want you to be free and safe and experience everything life has to offer. I'm not the right person to ensure that for you anymore. I'm not the right person to live life with you anymore. I'm not the right person to," he paused and choked on the words that were tumbling out, "bring home to South Carolina and...you deserve a better man to have children with."
"Don't you dare," she practically spat as she pushed off the wall and took an angry step towards him. "Don't you dare fucking say any of that, John." The letter that caused all of this was still clutched in his hands. She wanted to burn it. She wanted to go back in time and never write it.
"Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that you haven't noticed how fucked in the head I am. That you haven't stopped sleeping because you're afraid of what I've become at night." His eyes were looking at her wrist. Imagining the way his hands had wrapped around her delicate skin with malice as his nightmares had blurred his capacity to distinguish the past from the present.
"I love you. I love you so much it hurts me and that is the only thing I have been certain of for a very long time." Her fingers wrapped around the footboard of the bed in his childhood room. There was so much of him ingrained in these walls that it was dizzying. She had been giddy upon their arrival to Wisconsin, anxious to see him reunite with his mother and sisters. Anxious to get him back to his roots in the hopes it would heal the uncertainty that had settled over him since the morning after Gale's wedding. "You are exactly the man I want to bring home to South Carolina. Exactly the father I want to give my children. Exactly the person I want to experience everything in life with. All the pain and all the happiness. None of it means anything without you." She took another step but he stood and she paused.
"I'm setting you free. Free from me and this marriage and all the memories of what happened over there that I keep drudging up for you."
"I don't want that," she cried. "I am not asking for any of that!"
"Someone is going to make you so happy one day." His hands were shaking and he knew he needed to leave this house before he could let the tears in his eyes fall. "Someone who doesn't have demons in their head. Someone who doesn't have blood on their hands and doesn't have to worry about staining you when he holds you."
“Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me," she yelled as she found the courage to hit him in the chest. "Tell me how you expect me to move on from our nights in the flower field and how I am supposed to pretend that London meant nothing to me and tuck away everything that happened in Germany into a box. No one else will ever understand me, John. No one is ever going to make me feel a pin prick of what you do." She beat her palms against his chest until all the anger left her chest and she collapsed as it was replaced by despair. He let a tear drop onto the carpet next to her.
"I love you, Sp-" He stopped as the term of endearment tried to slip out. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. John stepped past her and stood in the doorway, not flinching when he saw his sisters scurry into their rooms. "One day, when you hold your precious child and don't see any of me inside of them, you'll know we are doing the right thing. And I just know you are going to be the best fucking mother in the entire world." Oh how he had dreamed of watching her become a mother. Watching her with their baby. Their baby that looked like a perfect combination of the two of them and was a physical embodiment of the love they had for each other. How he had spent the sleepless nights in Germany thinking of their names and how they would feel on his tongue. Cass was, is, a deity. She would be raising angels in her image and he couldn't not taint them with the horrors that lived inside of him. Couldn't risk any of it seeping into them.
"It won't be worth it without you," she mumbled as she stared where he had been in shock. "Life without you won't be worth living." If he stayed any longer, he'd never be able to leave.
So, without a glance back, he stepped out of the room. And down the stairs.
And into the night.
23 notes · View notes
badkitty3000 · 2 days
Text
Five Hargreeves NSFW Headcanons
Ok, so here are some smutty headcanons that I have developed for Five over time. Obviously, this is my personal version and if you’ve read any of my stories, you will recognize a lot of these! Also, these are intended to be with a female partner, even though I feel like Five could be with any gender or orientation. If he’s attracted to a person and has a connection with them, that’s all that matters. I just write him with cis women because that’s what I am and that’s what I know. Let me know if you think I missed any! 😊
Warnings: Smut! Sex! Turn back if you don't want smut!
Let’s start with relationships: Five does not have the patience, nor the inclination, to care about most people outside of his immediate family. He knows he’s smarter (a lot smarter) than the average human, and spending more time than he needs to with someone else and their tiny brain is highly irritating. He does not have a lot of friends and doesn’t feel the need for any. That does not mean he isn’t attracted to women and doesn’t notice them. He most definitely notices. And once in a while he may indulge in a drunken fling here and there. However, when he meets that one woman that lights a fire in him, then it's game over. He’s done for, head over heels, no one will ever come close, in love for all eternity. He’s not going to fall for just anyone, either. Aside from having a body that he wants to fuck all day for the rest of his life, you also have to be smart. And witty. And not put up with any of his shit. Just because he’s in love with you, does not mean he’s not going to slip up sometimes and say or do something to piss you off. But when you come back at him with some major attitude and fight, he will end up loving you even more. Five needs a spicy woman to put him in his place sometimes.
Blow Jobs: Holy shit, this man loves a good blow job! Nothing makes him hotter than watching you service him. He wants to shove you down on your knees and watch intently as you take him all the way into your mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. And if you can handle it, he’s going to fuck your face. Grab your hair in his fist and thrust himself into you until you’re gagging and drooling, tears running down your cheeks. Maybe he’ll come down your throat, maybe he won’t. He’ll let you know first, though. But if you’re going to be in a relationship with him, you better get used to having his dick in your mouth.
Cunnilingus: He may want you to suck his cock, but he’s more than willing to pay back the favor. In fact, Five wants to eat you out like the starving man he once was. Your taste and your scent drives him wild and he’ll take as long as you need. In fact, sometimes, he won’t stop even if you want him to. You can be begging him to stop and to fuck you instead, but he’ll just hold you down by your hips and look up at you with that knowing smirk of his; his mouth shining with your juices, and shake his head. Denied. Then he’s back at it, sucking and licking and fucking your pussy with his tongue until you’re a shuddering, crying mess, and your back is arching off the bed.
Orgasms: Continuing on that theme, Five will not come until you have, at least once but preferably a couple of times. He considers this a personal challenge, and he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you’re screaming and shaking before he’s satisfied enough to let himself go. Ok, sure, there are times when maybe he does not perform as amazingly as he’d like. Times when you drive him so fucking crazy with the way you’re writhing underneath him and looking at him with that sexy little pout of yours that he can’t hold back. He’ll feel guilty about it afterwards, though, so once he’s able to think straight again, he’ll make sure you’re taken care of.
Daddy kink: This is it, guys. The big one. The thing that he absolutely goes fucking crazy over. You want Five to lose his mind over you? Sit on his lap and call him Daddy. Purr it seductively next to his ear while you run a hand down his chest. Remind him of it when you’re on your knees, looking back up at him with wide, innocent eyes, as you slowly unbuckle his belt. Moan it loudly just before he makes you come. Odds are, he’s going to be the older one in the relationship, so it just plays into his preferred role of the man in charge. He is the Daddy, here, and don’t you fucking forget it.
Cum: He wants you either covered in it or filled with it. Five loves nothing more than to come inside of you, watching his load drip out of you, dripping down your legs or pooling on the sheets underneath you. But sometimes he can’t control himself, taking matters into his own hands, and covering your tits or your ass in ropes of his cum. Seeing his semen all over you lights up that feral part of his brain because it reminds him and you who you belong to. He usually does this when he’s not thinking clearly, and then will feel badly afterwards, especially if he didn’t tell you he was going to do it in the first place. You’ll have to tell him it’s ok and that you don’t mind; that you liked it, actually. After he feels better about himself, he’ll quickly blink into the bathroom and grab a washcloth or tissues to help clean you up.
Dominance: Obviously, Five likes to be the one calling the shots. He is going to tell you, or more likely order you, to do what he wants. Whether he wants you riding him hard and fast, or on your hands and knees so he can fuck you from behind, he’ll let you know. Or maybe he’ll just throw you around, no words needed, until he’s got you where he wants you. He wants to overpower you, hold you down, pin you against a wall, flatten you with his body on top of yours. He wants to grip your wrists tightly in his hands and shove your legs apart with his knees. You are his to do with what he wants, but that’s only because he knows that’s what you like. It might not even be anything rough or physical that shows he’s in charge. It could be a subtle look in your direction, or a small command of “Come here” or “No” to your request that has you weak in the knees and doing whatever he wants. You might have him wrapped around your finger in every other aspect of your relationship, but inside the bedroom he is the boss.
Submission: There is one tiny little caveat to that dominance thing. Once in a while, you get to be in charge. Yes, he likes to be the dominant one, but he’s also up for being the sub every now and then. Maybe it’s a spur of the moment thing that you hesitantly try, and for some reason, he’s into it that day. Maybe he’s really pissing you off and he needs to be reminded that you are not a doormat for his temper tantrums and misplaced rage. This is when things can really get fun. Now you get to order him around, and he’s going to listen. Make him to eat you out until you tell him to stop. Tie him up with his own necktie and make him really work for it. Tease him until his cock is so hard and leaking that he’s squirming and begging you to fuck him. Rub your wet pussy up and down his shaft, but don’t let him in, until he’s whining like a little bitch and you laugh before finally giving in. Call him a good boy and slap his ass. He will do it all for you, because he loves you. And maybe because he secretly likes it, too. And when it’s all over, he will pretend that it was a one-time deal and you are dreaming if you think that’s ever going to happen again. You know better, though.
Dirty talk: Oh boy, he’s a talker. Not only does Five like the sound of his own voice, he wants to hear yours, too. He is going to lay out his entire dirty plan for you, in detail, out loud while he gets started. Then, he’s going to share with you each of the thoughts running through his head during the act, as well. It all depends on his mood and whether he’s being rough or soft, demanding or sweet. “Fuck me harder” “You’re so tight, you feel amazing” “God damn it, I never want to stop fucking you” “You’re so beautiful” “I love you” “You’re all I need” He’s not shy about what he wants to hear from you, either. “Tell me who you belong to” “Whose cock do you want inside of you?” “Tell me how I make you feel” He wants to hear all of it. There may be a few times where he orders you to stay quiet while he teases and fucks you hard, but that won’t stop him from chattering away himself. Unless he’s got some severe laryngitis going on, you are going to hear A LOT from Five Hargreeves during sex.
Rough Sex: Yes! He wants to fuck you into the mattress, or wall, or floor, or whatever surface he can find. But not in a violent or cruel way; he knows how you like it and he’s going to deliver. He’s going to make getting your pussy pounded into oblivion feel amazing. Shoving his cock inside of you, your leg thrown over his shoulder, sweat forming on his body, hair flopping in his eyes, jaw set in concentration as he rams into you over and over until you are screaming. He loves you, he’ll remind you, as he flips you over onto all fours and continues to fuck you so perfectly that you won’t be able to think or walk straight for a week. We’re talking hair-pulling, ass-slapping, sucking and biting until you’re bruised kind of rough.
Sweet/slow Sex: Also yes! Five likes it rough sometimes, but he also likes to take his time with you. He loves you, you are his entire world, and he just can’t believe you love him, too. So, he will cover your body with soft kisses, caressing every part of you while he tells you how gorgeous you are. He will worship your body, because to him you are the most perfect woman in the world. He will never love anyone else but you, and as he fucks you slow and rhythmically, with your legs and arms wrapped tightly around him, he will gaze lovingly into your eyes and tell you so.
Insecurities: We all know Five is the most confident man in the room. He’s arrogant and bossy, and isn’t afraid of anything or anyone. But, he has a lot of trauma, and with that comes shame, and regret, and feelings of inadequacy. Most people don’t know this about him. Most people except for you. With you, he let’s his guard down. He is safe with you and he can finally be himself. When the nightmares come, or the panic attacks, or just the overwhelming thoughts of self-doubt that plague him, he turns to you for comfort. Sometimes that means just lying there with you in the dark, as he lays his head on your chest and you give him soft kisses and run your fingers through his hair. Other times, he may need more than that. Because he needs to feel you, all of you, to make sure you are real. His touches and kisses will lead to more, and it all has to do with love and not lust, and his vulnerability with you. You are his lifeline to the only real happiness he knows and he’s terrified of it being ripped away from him again. He will bury his face in the crook of your neck while he thrusts slowly into you, kissing you softly and trying desperately not to shed the tears that are already making their way down his face. He wants to hear you say you’ll never leave him because he doesn’t want to be alone. And when you reassure him over and over with more kisses and whispers of how much you love him, he will eventually relax once more.
Names: Five loves to give you pet names. Sometimes they give a sense of his dominance over you, or may even be sarcastic if he’s being a jerk (sweetheart and honey can sound completely different depending on his tone). Other times they are just a form of his love for you and even if they are old fashioned (darling, my love, etc), you love hearing them from him. He likes to have a special name for you that no one else calls you, too. And he generally saves a couple just for sexy times (“go on baby, come for me”) that he knows drives you crazy. You can have pet names for him, too, and you love knowing you are the only one that can get away with that.
His own name: Along the same lines, Five wants to hear you say his name. When you’re whispering it quietly as he’s trailing kisses down your neck. As you’re whining and begging pitifully when he teases you and holds out on you instead of just fucking you like you want. And especially when you are screaming his name so loud the neighbors down the street can hear. It totally plays into his ego to have you moaning his name while he’s making you lose your mind with his cock or his fingers. Once you start sobbing and crying out his name in pure ecstasy, he’s probably not going to be able to last much longer because that is music to his ears. But if you really want to kick it up a notch and pretty much guarantee he’s going to be violently coming inside of you in a matter of seconds, use his full name. Throwing in a ‘Number Five’ is like an automatic switch for him and its game over.
Loud sex: Continuing on…he wants you loud. This goes along with the dirty talk and moaning his name. He wants to hear you. He wants the neighbors to hear you. He wants the whole god damn city to hear you. And he wants everyone to know just who is fucking you. Maybe it will make run-ins with neighbors at the mailbox a little awkward in the morning, but Five doesn’t really give a shit. He wants his girl screaming so loud for him that it’s a wonder the cops don’t get called. And he’ll wear that badge of honor proudly, just adding to the other list of things he knows he’s the fucking king of.
Kissing: Five loves kissing you. He can’t get enough of it. Yes, he loves fucking and everything else sex-related, but kissing is always incorporated, even with the roughest of sex. Remember, this man is touch starved, but he also doesn’t like most people touching him. You are the exception. The fact that he has found someone to love and that loves him in return is nothing short of a miracle for him. So, kissing you and being kissed by you, is heaven. You can feel all of his love and desire for you in those kisses, whether they are soft and gentle, or hungry and desperate. He kisses you in the morning and when you leave for the day. He kisses you when you come home and before you go to sleep. Sometimes when you’re just standing there, washing dishes, or sitting reading a book, you will look so cute to him that he can’t help himself and he’ll tilt your face up towards him with a hand on your chin and kiss you until you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. He will also ask you to kiss him, stopping you as you walk by him by taking your hand and pulling you in close, an arm around your waist. “Kiss me. Please,” he’ll say quietly with the most innocent looking face and your heart will break for him. It’s the please that gets you. But he really doesn’t need to ask, because you will never not want to give him as many kisses as he needs.   
Masturbation: If anyone is an expert in jerking off, it’s Five Hargreeves. How could he not be? It was him and his hand/Dolores for 45 years, and a guy has needs. Would he prefer your mouth or your pussy to stick his dick in? Absolutely. But sometimes you’re not available, or the timing isn’t right, or you’re not in the mood. In which case, Five knows exactly how to efficiently and quickly rub one out and then go about his day. He loves to watch you finger yourself, though. Especially when he makes you tell him who you are thinking of while you’re doing it (always him). He also has no shame in masturbating in front of you while you are taking care of yourself. Sitting there, nonchalantly and slowly stroking his hard cock while he watches you play with yourself, maybe giving you directions while you do it. It’s just one of the ways he reminds you who’s in charge.
Praise: Yes, he will praise you for being a good girl. This kind of goes hand in hand with the Daddy kink. “Be a good girl for Daddy,” he’ll tell you while slowly running the back of his hand down your cheek. If you follow his directions, he will give you all the praise you deserve. “Such a good girl, taking it so well for me” “That’s my good girl” “That’s right baby, you’re perfect” “You’re doing so good, just a little longer sweetheart” He might be demanding you suck his cock or flinging you around like a ragdoll on the bed and fucking you senseless, but he will always tell you how good you are being for him. Like the perfect gentleman he is.
Appearance: This includes body type, clothing, lingerie, hair, and make-up. Five does not have a specific body type per se. If he finds you attractive, he finds you attractive, end of story. He may have a slight preference towards nice boobs and a tight ass, but that’s just on a superficial basis. Chubby tummy? Thick thighs? Flat chest? Bony elbows and knees? He does not care. If he loves you, then you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and he wouldn’t want you any other way. He does love a tight skirt and high heels, though. Watching your ass bounce along while you sashay your hips in front of him will have him wishing he could blink you away somewhere private, flip that skirt up, and take care of business. And if you whisper in passing that you’re not wearing any underwear, he just might. Five loves you fully naked, sprawled out just for him. But his brain misfires a few times when he sees you in sexy lingerie. A lace bra, tight corset, thong panties, or even just a skimpy little tank top has him drooling and stumbling all over himself in an effort to get his dick under control. Wearing a sexy outfit like this is a good way to make him the submissive one, because he will do anything for you at this point. It’s actually pretty hilarious to see him at a loss for words for once, jaw on the floor, and licking his lips at just the sight of you. A flustered Five is the best. He doesn’t have much preference for hair style, as long as there’s enough to grab in his fist when you’re blowing him. Same goes for make-up. The only exception to that is lipstick. Five loves when you wear red lipstick for him. He likes to see the trail it makes over his body as your lips kiss and suck him all over. He loves to see it smudged all over your mouth, on his face, and on his cock. It’s just one of those things that reminds him that you are all his.
Possessiveness: Which brings us to this. Five can be a little possessive. Not in a “you’re not going anywhere without me" kind of way. He’s not at all like that. But he does like to remind you now and then who exactly you belong to. That body is only for him to touch, and kiss, and fuck. He doesn’t get jealous, because there’s nothing to be jealous over. He trusts you and you trust him. You are independent and have your own life outside of him, and that’s just one of the reasons he loves you. But he does get territorial, and there’s a difference. If another man puts a hand on you and you don’t like it, or someone propositions you in some way, well then they are in for a real big fucking awakening. Five may try to keep his assassin instincts to himself most of the time, but if he sees some random guy disrespecting you, things are going to get ugly. He may not even need to use any actual physical force or violence. Just the threat of it is usually enough. But if that doesn’t work, and the stupid moron isn’t backing down, well, that’s their own fault. There will be a fake, saccharine smile, and a derisive chuckle as the last warning. Then the poor bastard will find himself either punched in the mouth or facedown in the dirt with a foot on his back while being forced to give a teary apology for his treatment of you. If he were ever faced with the need, Five would kill for you. No questions asked. You’re in real danger? He won’t think twice about putting a bullet into some dude’s skull. Luckily, a few clever insults, some well-timed blinks, and a swift kick to the jaw are all he really needs to get his point across. Then afterwards, he’ll take you home and fuck your brains out, because you are his and he is yours, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.  
20 notes · View notes
equestriagirl16 · 1 year
Text
MC: Sooooo I did a thing.
Crewel: Oh dear-
MC: Nonono-it’s completely harmless I promise! Lemme just..*removes hat*
Crewel: *gasp*
MC: *reveals a white streak they dyed in their hair* U-Um, I just thought it’d be a cool idea for us to be matching. Ya know like a..father-child thing.
Crewel: *crushing you in a hug* Oh pup, you look wonderful.
MC: *hugs back* So am I correct to assume you like it?
Crewel: *chuckling* I love it.~❤️
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
time-is-restored · 1 year
Text
i have literally nowhere else to put this i apologise for the spam. the absolute best thing to come out of s3 trent is without a doubt the fucking earnestness... like in s1-2 he always came across as a very self-assured kind of guy, who knew how he came off (ie: intimidating) and enjoyed it. but seeing that paired with him being silly + completely relaxing in certain company??? pulling ridiculous faces at vodka + scrunching up his nose when he smiles @ colin + making the most ABSURD 'i really wanna say something right now but i feel like im interrupting' noises ive ever heard in my fucking LIFE??? its like. he is cool as shit and he is self assured AND he can make dumb fucking sherlock holmes jokes and dance ridiculously. its like!!!! he's lame but he's also not bc he's exactly as confident in being lame as he is being cool. do u see the vision. he has killed the part of him that cringes!!!! its just.. that unshakeable self confidence that u see in his fucking swaggers into frame includes all of himself + his different moods and eccentricities and that's just so based to me idk. unironically live ur best life wear the loudest combination of prints and patterns and primary colours uve ever seen in ur life while espousing the virtues of extended museum hours!!! contain multitudes! get silly with it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#ted lasso spoilers#combined with james lance's hc abt trent's past its just. like!!#the growth from 'i can't be what you want me to be so im going to be Better than them + tear them down'#-> 'i know my reputation so im going to lean into that + be ruthless + intimidating' ->#'actually fuck this? fuck this! im just gonna be me and if anyone has a problem w then L To Them I'm Actually Living'#also this is just my hcs at this point but like. i do think ted helped a lot w the latter part of this process in so much as. ted embodied#someone who was Visibly weak + vulnerable and had no armour/no sense of self preservation#(the opposite of trent's persona) and made no effort to change anything abt himself to prevent attack. obviously ted has a lot of social +#class advantages that make that less risky for him than it would be for others but like. u get the drift#and i THINK. seeing how without that armour/facade ted was able to be rlly direct + earnest w connecting w ppl#like asking an interviewer 'what do u love?' and rlly genuinely wanting to know the answer#and bc TRENT was specifically in the position of 'i could fucking destroy u rn and u wouldn't put up a fight'#that kind of. shifted his perspective a bit? like. damn what would that say abt me if i wrote a hit piece on this guy rn#i disagree VERY strongly w the idea that trent's more positive character development moments happened ONLY bc of ted (i don't think that's#true for anyone in the show tbh) BUT i think ted's presence at a pivotal point in his life was what helped him confront the fact that#at this stage in his life all his intellectual armour was doing was making him into someone Mean rather than just incisive#like. 'is this a fucking joke' is not cutting journalism. u get me??#and arguably that's a fine and even safe choice to make when ur younger and have no support/reputation backing u up#but after decades? its like man wtf are we doign here if were literally just living preventatively#smth smth i hope i am not just a tumblr blog to u but a blog who is inventing the brain chemistry of a sitcom side character#w each new episode they watch. trent crimm is my best friend irl i know he would have scorching hot takes abt each new season of survivor#and would earnestly heckle the jury and final 3 alike
12 notes · View notes
jackpotsadmon · 1 year
Text
shit like kizuna and distant blue sky are going to be the fucking death of me man
(long kizuna and pokemon rants in tags + a lot of emotional rambling and spoilers)
#digimon n pokemon were my first two animes and like. i hold those memories very dear to my heart#i loved both of these btw i am holding back tears i just saw distant blue sky i love ash man he’s just. like he’s just some guy i love him#he gives off this kind of childish joy that made me love pokémon in the first place when i was little . like baby etke would sit and watch#the gengar episode from the first season on repeat SOBBING#i don’t have to say why kizuna one hit KO’d me do i? /lh#mini rant actually because it’s been an . Hour#agumon and gabumon were so and are so important to me as characters . the point of digimon partners in season one is that they are there#to be a mirror to what their partner needs to accept and overcome. gabumon never gave up trying to make matt feel loved and helped him stop#repressing his feelings and agumon and tai gave eachother things to live and fight for!! that’s why agumon’s speech about life in 02 gets me#because he has had to fight a lot. but he did it all because he had tai and tai had him#and i think what kizuna missed the mark on was that it wasn’t that tai and matt didn’t need them or want them anymore.#it was that agumon and gabumon helped them get to a place where they don’t need that mirror anymore.#it sucks and i wish they hadn’t left but like. i think that’s the point#like we’ve all had shit that has helped us grow and cope and learn and when we leave it or when it leaves us it feels painful. it sucks#but you realize how much that thing really helped you become a better person#christ this got personal and ranty. anyways i’m still emotional about kizuna#kizuna’s ending wasn’t happy. but you could tell in the credits that even if they didn’t have their partners anymore#the lessons they learned from them is still there#digimon#gamma’s static#pokemon#digimon last evolution kizuna
8 notes · View notes
My gender complex goes back 3 generations and through two queer women and their family trauma, I feel like I know what I'm talking about. We know a thing or two because we've seen a thing or two.
#i got my gender from my she/her misogynistic transmas gay dad who's also the mother of my mom.#my sperm donor doesn't matter here.#he's kinda fruity though and swears he's just a straight southern boy in alaska.#my dad/grandma and my sperm donor/dad were/are both autistic though.#im pretty my great-grandfather (whom i was named after (whom was named after his father)) was autistic to.#and even though he was an abusive piece of shit the autism had him connect with one of his four lesser-sons.#so she got a bit of a complex from really admiring him. i got a bit of a complex from really admiring her. i was named after him.shit's wild#oh yeah and a psychic told my grandma in a past life she was her fathers husband and she thought it was crazy but he said that makes sense#(in that past life he was his daughters wife to clarify)#he didnt even believe in that shit she was blown away when he said that like ''dad you're joking right?'' (he wasnt)#it was to explain why he always broke down in tears hearing the bag pipes.#this hardcore military man would just start crying when he heard bagpipes playing. absolutely break down.#and the psychic said it's because they played bagpipes when my grandma/his/her husband came back from war after leaving her to fight.#she had the gaul to give my mom his last name. her maiden name. and well my mother never married so i got it too.#the family hated us for that.#and he treated her(my grandma's) daughter way better than any of his own kids. so the family hated us for that too.#my mom's also an ace/bilesbian lol.#out of all the confusion im trans so like. i feel like i have a better handle because of that.#i take a bit of pride and freedom in the confusion.#hexacles.txt
0 notes
franeridan · 6 months
Text
at this point my weekly appointment with the op manga is just me crying over how much i love dragon that's okay that's cool
0 notes
kifu · 6 months
Text
I decide to see if I can get the tie rod off of my car myself today, because it's as nice a day as it can get in December and there is wayyyyy too much play in my steering right now and this car's gonna throw me soon if I don't get it fixed - and I get home to find a flat. I watched that tire sink, so it happened in my yard. It's sliced wide open. So I can't fix that.
I could still (try to) change the tie rod but a) I'm not sure that I can reach a safe place of the frame with my jack because it's a piece of shit and the "good" one won't lift and b) car's currently jacked up and three-wheeled in the opposite corner from the tie rod that needs fixing. I suppose I could put the donut on to do what I originally intended. I guess. I don't know how many possible points of failure I want at a time.
I just ... I just put more money than I had in the brakes and now I need a new tire? I think I'm at the end of my ability to deal with problems right now. I'm going to max out my credit before my car insurance is due next week. Which that is ... well, at least $1800.
Still haven't gotten things figured out with the phone. I can't get my last phone through Metro PCS to unlock to accept the current sim card. Verizon is the one and only cell company that even works where I live, so it's not like I have a choice with whom I use. Be one thing if I could use wifi calling, but I can't.
I had to memorize my work schedule this week and write it down for my boss because I don't know my login information and I can't dick around with my email to get that figured out at work. I just feel like things are a mess right now, and just about all of them are money related. You'd think making twice minimum wage would get me through life no problem. Maybe if I didn't have my chickens or rabbits, but those chickens paid for sooooooo much this summer, it was ridiculous. And what was the point of buying a house with land if I'm just going to sit on my computer chair all day?
#truly there are way more expensive problems for a car than pads/rotors and a tie rod#as well as one single tire that looks like it's been through a knife fight#but for fuck's sake i got no money#there's a reason that i had to let things go to breaking point before i convinced myself they needed fixing#but i also drive 50 miles a day just to get to work so it's no wonder my poor car demands my attention#work's looking pretty bleak for the future too#we're down my favorite coworker and i'm not sure i'll ever see him again#he last left with tears in his voice because reasons#i don't have his phone number anymore for obvious reasons but i guess i know where he lives?#i promised him a baby blanket for his daughter on the way so i do have an excuse to stop in#there's nothing i can actually do for him but hopefully not be a drag on his life like most everyone else he talks about?#we're down a damn good coworker because she had surgery today#she thinks she's coming back monday#i really hope she doesn't#we're supposed to be an eight man crew but we're permanently down one member so with both those two gone#we're at five of eight workers in the busiest season of the year#we had no less than ten hour days this entire week and it's only going to get worse until new year's#ESPECIALLY with that damn good coworker down for the count#not sure how i'm going to juggle the extra workload and extra hours and still manage to take care of my chickens specifically tbh#we only have like eight hours of daylight#sure i start work at 5 or 6am but on tens ... i'm getting home near enough twilight the birds are already sluggish#what can ya do i guess#welcome to the hell world
0 notes