#css0322

[cannedsoupsucks]

I've been needing some soft and fluff and this is perfect 🥰 I want to be a fly on the wall for their meeti g

The Blatant Presentation of Glowing Adoration

(DIPPED MADELEINES- Sweets Series)

Rating: T. Fluffy AF.

Fandom: The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez and f!reader (his assistant “Girl Sunday.”)

Warnings: Sappy, y’all. I just pile on the sap. This cupcake is just a vehicle for the frosting.

Summary: There’s a party going on at the Gutierrez mansion and Javi has a gift for you.

A/N: This was originally going to be a two-parter to control the sap, but I thought maybe drawing it out would make it worse, so here we are. Sunday’s dress is based on this one and holy balls I want it.

If you’re curious where the nickname “Sunday” comes from, you can find the answer in the first fic at the series masterlist!

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[cannedsoupsucks]

Hmm... so many questions. Can someone have more than one soulmark? Do soulmarks have to be identical or can they be complimentary, such as one fitting inside the other? Will Dieter wash his robe? I'm intrigued 🤔

Love Triangles Part 1

Pairing: Dieter x Female Reader

Word Count: 2000+

Summary: Dieter Bravo is beautiful. Sure, his wardrobe leaves much to be desired and he doesn’t always stay on top of his personal hygiene and he wanders the halls high on marijuana edibles from time to time. But still. One look at his luscious brown curls and matching piercing eyes–there’s no arguing. He’s so beautiful to look at, it’s almost cruel he’s your neighbor.

Warnings: Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Language, Soulmates AU with Identifying Marks, Mention of edibles + being high, Reader has no name or physical description except for being shorter than Dieter, Reader has a favorite book series, Pining…so much pining…

Author Note: Inspired by Dieter’s triangle tattoos. I have about 85% of this fic written so I hope to have another update soon. Thank you so much @beecastle​ for listening to me ramble about this idea and helping put the plot puzzle pieces together 💗

PART 2

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[cannedsoupsucks]

Locked Down Part 8: The Understanding

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,858

Rating: Not safe for work. Sexual acts. Touching. Language. This has it all. Dieter is his own damn warning.

Summary: Jenna knows what’s going on now, and that’s made things simpler for you and Dieter. 

The more you get to know each other, the deeper your feelings grow - and even though there are parts of you that believe the same is true for him, you’re hesitant to let yourself go and believe it.

But when the cast and crew start getting sick … everything changes again. 

Author’s note:

I really hope that you all like this one - and that this satisfies some of your concerns about Reader’s emotions and understanding of the situation between her and Dieter. 

As always, thank you so fucking much for the support and the feedback and the interaction on this story. It has meant the absolute WORLD to me. 

Catch up on the other parts here: Locked Down Masterlist

By the third week of November, you realized that things weren’t exactly perfect on the set, even though they were much better for you on a personal level.

The night Jenna had found out what was going on hadn’t changed - or strained - anything between you and Dieter. Instead, it had made things easier, the woman not questioning what was happening but offering you an opportunity to talk about the man if you wanted to. There were plenty of questions that you wanted  to ask her, but you refrained - for the most part. It was partially because you didn’t know if you wanted to know the answers to them, and partially because you wanted him to be the one to tell you … if he chose to. But it shouldn’t matter, because … because this is just fun. It’s casual, and we both know that. 

And that night had also changed the frequency of your nights spent together, too. You alternated between your rooms, choosing whichever one was more convenient at the end of the day, or would work out best for whichever of you had to be on set first the following morning. But you spent every night in bed with Dieter that you could, and though you still weren’t actually intimate every one of those nights, even the times you just slept next to each other, it felt intimate. 

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[cannedsoupsucks]

The reader seeing herself asking Steven to "dance with me" in what appears to be a vision of the future is so unique and then you go one further and create a soulmate au (one of my favorite tropes)!

I have such a soft spot for Steven so seeing him have his fated love find and rescue him made me very happy.

I really, really enjoyed this and would love to read a sequel. I want to know how they get home and maybe what happens once they get there!

Hi love! I see that you have your quests open with some prompts. Since you write sweet characters so well I thought of Steven Grant and "dance with me?"

hello my dear friend 💖 I am so excited to share this with you, & hope you love it ! I've been wanting to write a steven grant fic & I'm so glad your request finally made that happen ! enjoy 🌼

An Echo of Starlight

Steven Grant x F!Reader

prompt – 'dance with me'

after battling the undead on a ship barreling towards the gates of osiris, steven is thrown from its edge to an uncertain fate; suspended in time, and turning to stone across the dunes of sand below. Is it all in his mind when you've appeared to save him there? will you be the one to ultimately bring him back home?

word count: 1.5k | soulmate au

spoilers for moon knight ep. 5, allusions to visions of the future & implied intimacy

keep going. find him.

who? who am I looking for?

only your heart will know.

They were supposed to balance the scales. But instead, an untimely ambush of undead beings from the vastly arid depths of hell, had driven things so far off course; a ship crafted from the corners of Marc's mind's eye, crashing forth amidst a violet shade of afterlife, leaving Steven thrown from its edge amidst all of the chaos.

Tumbling freely, his uncertain fate had been granted, landing him in an unsettling sand dune of dust.

"Steven!"

With eyes full of panic, Marc yelled for him, calling out to his friend who for so long had lived out his days as the better parts of himself; fabricated by such shadow cast emotion, trauma, and loss – the very person he truly needed to be, during times where things might have been far too difficult to confront.

He stayed with him, through it all, despite having never really known it, and now, more than ever, Steven needed Marc.

Or maybe even someone else.

A person capable of slowing the passage of time drifting with their memory; hopeful delusions lending them a sudden way out of there before the valley of the Gods…

With a stray passing of the wind, Marc began to ground himself – or, at least he certainly tried to; disappearing from the ship altogether with a shuddering exhale of breath, before ending up in his own realm of the unknown.

A Field of Reeds, as it was, had embraced him almost infinitely; offering him solace there within its warmth, as if he ever really had a chance for making it back out.

And if they had a way of escaping this place, perhaps a glimmer of hope amongst all of this shaken torment, then Marc knew he couldn't just leave without him – a tethered pull already tempting him into spaces of the forgotten, toward enlivened skies of endless gold.

Though, somewhere on another far plane, lived another. Lavender starlight falling upon Steven where the ship had already sailed off; the palms of his hands straining as he’d been reaching for it in only waves of empty, and an outstretched arm doing little to stop it from moving on.

His muffled sighs had begun to whisper of distress all in hopes that maybe the horizon might hear him, proving no use at all where the subtle tilt of his chin had sought out the feel of a soothing, distant moon; consuming him by words left unspoken at the sudden collapse of his knee pebbled with sand, before his entire being had ultimately turned to stone.

…

So featherlight, your steps had spanned the calling of a most gentle, unwavering breeze; feeling as the chill of seemingly untouched sand had grazed past your skin, lighting the way forward in the stillness of this tranquil land alone.

Though peaceful in the quiet, all of this had felt more than ominous; powerful whispers awakening your eyes to blurs of all that had been endless, and softened; listening to those who might have been walking on your journey there beside you, or really, no one there at all.

How did you even get here?

keep going. find him.

who? who am I looking for?

only your heart will know.

…

You're overcome with tiredness, feeling tense and so kindly unsure, when a sudden ache surges outwards from your chest, wholeheartedly breathing new life into your soul.

you must awaken him.

There it is; that familiar voice again, the one that towers over everything where you are, feeling as though it commands the air you breathe with its very striking sound.

how?

there.

A stray fanning of the wind soon brushes past, skating along your lips as if it had been a subtle kiss slanted over when touched.

go to him.

And there, just beyond the heady weight of it all, lies a statue risen from desert ash and ruin; a kneeling man with eyes filled with either pure wonder, or terror – you couldn't be too sure, captured there in stone.

The sight itself took over everything inside you, a calming intuition awakening you to such imaginings of lips and hands entwined, living endlessly there inside your mind.

Each passing dream you began to see there right in front of you, suddenly becomes all the more vivid; a possible hint at a future, with him, laced between the tips of all your fingers, and the spark alight in all the stars.

come on, steven, dance with me…

he smiles, then; handsomely bearing all of his teeth into an adorable grin.

I can't, love, I don't know how!

oh I know you do, baby,

don't you want to?

he takes to the edge of his bottom lip, eyeing all the ways that single gesture alone has a very intimate way of doing something to you.

oh bugger. fine!

and you kiss him playfully, a smile parting over his mouth where his hands have slid further down your waist; your hips, swaying there together, leaning into his at the strain of something so beautifully hard now resting against your thigh, pulling you closer as if so capably timed and captured…

like this?

yes, just like this…

The dream of your entanglement leaves you standing there breathless, seeing things unfold between you as if in real time; the arching of your neck and his kiss, so sweet and tentative as it's being pressed against it. The pad of his thumb, tracing loving sensations of pleasurable affection all the while to your skin, beneath the last remains of a heated, desert sun…

are you done?

Looking up toward the fading veil of clouds, your smirk is given towards them with a generous eye roll.

Khonshu certainly had a funny way of making himself known...

"I am…now."

approach him carefully, steven will react differently than marc…

"Marc?"

mm. my avatar. steven is the other.

"How do I…?"

do not be frightened of him in his current state. that matter will soon be settled.

now go.

…

There is only silence where night has fallen all around you; the flicker of moonlight, calling you closer to the rock born statue, as if willing you both to wish upon it if you could.

"Steven…I'm here. I'm right here, baby."

You like the way his name sounds when tested out there on your tongue, whispering into him as if he might have been able to hear the words – baby; a sentiment, and a brush taken kindly to him with your palm…

A loving caress stolen away to a man who appears to be the only one you've ever known.

How is that somehow you just knew that you loved him? In all the ways it mattered most?

Would he know you just as well when he had woken?

only your heart will know.

"I'm going to kiss you now…clichè, I know, but…in the movies, that's how it's done…"

It takes a moment for you to get it right, kneeling where he lays himself carved, burdened, and unsettled; finding his hair suspended in time with your fingertips, indulging in a trail of touch against all of the curls you have yet to wrap your hands around.

You take to the corners of each eye first, kissing the indents there with something tender and slow; his cheek next, then the sharpened edge of his jaw. An imagined smoothness, laying claim to your kiss, and a place reserved for him there inside your heart.

No matter the strange sensation, it seemed to have been working; a flush of warmth returning to his skin where once it had gone and run itself so cold.

So you take things the slightest bit further, grazing past the collar of his shirt with the tip of your nose, breathing him in before dipping your tongue just below it; soothing the sting of an indelicate mark made so fine, as the palms of your hands glide over the broad span of his chest...

Committing the very planes of him to your memory, just in case all of this had ended up going so terribly wrong.

"Can you feel me, Steven?"

Your kiss is soon to follow after; finally, you think to yourself. Relying on the promise of a great affection soon to come; unraveling into a home made just for him, held within the caged in space of your arms.

"Oh dear Gods, yes…"

He stumbles onto his knees, no longer frightened, or frozen, but instead, falling fervently there into you; dragging his tongue insistently against your pretty mouth's parted open seam, indulging in the sweetened essence of your lips as if all of this had been…

"Bollocks, am I dreaming?"

"No…at least I hope not."

Taking your hands wound with such loving need inside his own, he smiles as though he's known you all along – and maybe he has, and perhaps you're the only one who doesn't remember it; hurriedly embracing you against the sloping backdrop of sand dunes, where the sterling shade of moonlight softens all the while high above you.

go ahead, Steven, tell her how she was able to find you…

"I don't even understand how I came to be here, I just…"

Somehow he finds a joyful courage then, tilting your chin upwards just to meet the heavy lidded stare in his eyes descending upon your lips; a deepened shade of brown solely there just to consume you when it does.

"Egyptians invented modern navigation, you know."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"That's right, love."

laughter, wonderful...

And it must have been true; if not this simple explanation, then what else?

Fate? The Stars? Khonshu?

It didn't matter, really, love certainly was a beautiful thing – something wonderfully, and quite literally set in stone that you were grateful just to have happened upon from the start.

All you needed to do now was to stop your head from spinning, and eventually, find your way back home…

… ❤️

a/n – thank you so much for reading ! 💫 this is my first time writing for steven grant & can I just tell you how happy I was to get this request in my inbox? I've been wanting to write a moon knight fic for a while now, but have been so afraid to actually go for it. I'm glad I did, & I hope you love it just as much ! 🥰 if anyone is interested, maybe there will be a sequel. I would love to hear your thoughts ! all the love 🌸 xo A

Join my new 2022 taglist, link in bio !

moon knight option now available

@zinzinina @miraclesabound @star-whores-a-new-hoe

[cannedsoupsucks]

Thank you for writing such a sweet piece. I'm a sucker for a tough, closed-off mercenary turning loving for his partner.

When Spring Comes

CW:  Light angst, then fluff, then smut (loss of virginity; PiV, unprotected; the faintest implication of pregnancy, but only assumed - nothing graphic described), 18+ only.

Word Count:  7468

Requested by: the lovely @cannedsoupsucks​ commissioned this and asked that it be shared with Tumblr  🌻

When the beasts at the Great Wall were defeated, and when the defenders were done celebrating their victory, the Europeans were allowed to turn westward and go home.  William Garin from Ireland, Pero Tovar from Castille.

And you.

For the entirety of his journey—first into the far east in search of the black powder, then in the battle against the beasts at the Great Wall—Pero had tried not to speak to you.  Tried not to think of you.  Refused to say your name, and only grunted at you, called out “you, there” if he had to address you at all.  

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[cannedsoupsucks]

A chapter from Ezra's perspective! I find him and his back story incredibly intriguing. I want to know about his home world. I want to know what he did to be exiled with the intent for him to die. I want to know about the markings, what she thinks about the markings, why he doesn't have a hole in his stomach, how they learn to communicate since she doesn't have an implant, and how the adjust to living together.

I'm really excited about this series and look forward to reading more!

Starman Chapter Six.

Ezra x OFC. Warnings for drug taking and effects of the same, mentions of attempted suicide and religion, drugging and kidnapping but with the best of intentions. If any of you have seen the newer Battlestar Galactica you will understand where I got the inspiration for the red light 👀 And soft and vulnerable Ezra probably needs his own warning 💖 Word count: 3538

Starman

Chapter Six

Starman

This place was surreal. It reminded him just enough of various other places he had been to to not freak him out entirely, but this was a world he was sure he had never set foot on before. The scientist in him couldn't help but try to catalogue what he was seeing as he slowly walked away from where he had been deposited on the beach, leaning on his companion to stabilise his shaky legs as much as to be close to her.

The sun was a Class 3, yellow and bright and set to be life giving for a good while yet. At least one large body of salt water lapping up against a shore made from yellow sand and multicoloured stones. Green and purple long tendrilled plants on the beach. Other kinds of green plants away from the water, some of these with brightly coloured flowers attached. Some primitive forms of personal transport whose exhaust fumes stank (but no worse than the faliyite processing plants he had toiled in for a while). And there seemed to be a small and harmless domesticated bear (???) of some kind that was accompanying them wherever it was that they were going.

His thoughts were still hazy and dreamlike from the drugs he had taken, even as they sharpened his vision to the point that everything around him took on the quality of a cartoon. He distinctly remembered vomiting as he was hurled into the sea by the force of...whatever it was he had travelled through, and hoped that meant that the effects would wear off soon. Things kept catching his attention, and it wasn't entirely because they were new to him. The stinking plant life on the sand, the grey scars of some unnatural material laid neatly in a long strip outside of her house, sunlight reflecting off the metal things she put into the door to open it. The lingering effects of his failed suicide were still swirling around his brain, making the mundane seem sparkly and fascinating.

Then there was her.

She was the total opposite of mundane. Oh, she was glorious, appearing only as a dark, shapeless silhouette against the brightness of the white sun-infused sky at first. Ezra's addled mind hadn't been able to get a handle on what he had been seeing, but then she had moved and spoken and the fuzzy shape had suddenly resolved into a picture of beauty in front of him. He had tried to focus on her words, but they were drowned out by the vision of her face and the pounding of blood in his ears. After a brief moment of panic when the remnants of the drugs had convinced him that he was dead after all and that was why her language was incomprehensible, he soon realised that the translator implant in his ear must have gotten water logged or impact damaged by the crash. Curiously, she didn't seem to have one herself, as she could not understand him either and had looked confused when he had tried to ask her about it. But words didn't matter. Not when he felt as if he could look upon her in joy for the remainder of his days, and especially not after she had touched him. Ezra had never felt the like in his life.

When he had first taken her hand, the markings on his arm had ached deliciously. Like the final acceptance of fulfilment after long denial. Like coming into the warmth of home after being freezing and soaked and miserable. Like a shift in his heart from "this is fine" to "this is right". But more than that he had felt his back flare as well. That was a true rarity. The stuff of legend, really. He had been so shocked that he had whipped his hand away from her, instantly regretting doing so and wanting more, a deeper connection, to touch her everywhere if she would allow it. He could tell that what had passed between them had affected her as well and smiled as he imagined what her markings might look like and the delirious joy they could take in exploring the other. He had always been given to understand that when a fated pair met, it would be as though they had almost telepathic insight into the other. What he was receiving from her was tentative and muted, and he reasoned that perhaps this was her first blooming too. A theory which had been run through later when he had seen the sliver of her body that she had revealed to him.

His mind boggled. What was that? A hole? In her stomach? How did she survive? How did objects not get stuck in there? Or maybe they did and that was just a normal part of life for these people? He had thought himself knowledgeable about the galaxy, but was pretty sure he would have remembered learning about a people who looked just like him, except for that. She had shown him fairly incontrovertible proof that this cavity was the standard here and he was the one who was different. His mind rifled through the possibilities of just where in the galaxy he could have ended up and drew a blank. A sneaking suspicion began to form. After all no one had ever been near the nebulae, just that one explorer and he had never returned - only the data he had collected and broadcast back had survived. Science fiction writers and the more outlandish scientists had postulated that there might be natural structures out there in the cosmos that provided connections and pathways to other places in the universe, or even other universes entirely. And if this was an place like that then perhaps he had accidentally been granted a last minute reprieve after all.

But it was beyond a reprieve. It was an absolute miracle. To land at the feet of someone who caused such a physical reaction, to make his markings finally quicken, when he had given up his last shred of hope at them doing so many years ago. To finally be faced with a true mate, and even more than that, the person who seemed to be his true mate when he had started to believe that perhaps such a thing really was just a story for children. And if his suspicions were proved founded, then he had traversed an unthinkable gulf in order to get here to her...Ezra's religious leanings had always been strictly performative, but his heart uttered a prayer of pure gratitude to Kevva at that moment for the blessings he was now receiving.

He showed her his arm and the way that she looked at his patterns forced a blooming immensity of feeling through his chest. She was clearly fascinated, so he had to suppose that she had nothing of the sort of her own body. And when she had touched them directly! The electrical currents within him briefly coalesced to shimmer brightly through the swirls there. A rippling rainbow indeed, and one more beautiful than he could ever have imagined. His heart and stomach were a riot of feelings, and images flashed one after the other through his mind, not all of them events from his own life. Rien's face above him the first time Ezra had truly made love and the blossoming of warmth through him that had accompanied it. The vision of his homeworld becoming smaller and smaller in the viewport of the ship he had departed on mere days after the conversation with his Uncle and parents in their house, and the sense of relief that he had felt at his belief that he had escaped their clutches. Her. Sitting on a rock on the beach. Watching the pink and peach tinged waves and sky as the sun disappeared over the watery horizon, and feeling the immensity of love for the beauty of the world that had crept into her heart at that moment. The dry, dusty, orange landscape of Padorix and the time he had felt freer and more certain than he ever had before or since.

He could feel each individual mark illuminate on his back, feel how the bones there juddered and clicked as his spinal cord crackled with sparks that flew around his body. He had glowed on occasion previously, a dull red travelling up and down his spine if he had a particularly strong orgasm, or when he had felt most connected with...well it had only ever happened with Rien and Kevva alone knew where he was now. But this was beyond anything he had ever experienced before and he couldn't help the moan that had slipped from his lips. That seemed to be too much for her and she took her hand away. His marks had only ever appeared as thin and white, yet now after only a few moments connection with her they had already become more silvery and taken on a stronger form. She was asking him something again, and finally the translator seemed to have heard enough of her speech to be able to spark to life and latch on to a few words here and there. The root of her language seemed to share something in common with Aegish, an ancient and low language from a planet that had lost most of its native populace during the second galactic expansion. He found himself grateful again, this time for his parents' wealth for once - that they had been able to afford the most expensive translator that could recognise dead languages as well as modern ones. He still couldn't glean her entire meaning, but the cadence of her voice along with the words "are" and "you" gave him a clue and he told her his name, gesturing to himself in case he wasn't clear.

"Ezra," she repeated thoughtfully, and his name sounded like purest nectar from her tongue. She began to unleash a torrent of what sounded like questions. They came too quickly for the translator to keep up, so he only caught a few simple words here and there. "Can't". "What." "Do." "Have." She looked frustrated when he didn't answer, but he understood that her feelings weren't directed at him, rather at not being able to make herself understood. Instead she picked up the cloths that she had dropped at her feet and handed them to him. As he clutched them against his chest he registered that they were soft and smelled chemically pleasant in a way he couldn't identify. She fiddled with the objects on top of what Ezra presumed was a tub for washing in, and water began spraying from the part at the top. Ah...a shower. So then the cloths must be for drying or wearing after washing or both. He smiled his understanding at her and she didn't seem to be able to help the grin she returned. Washing time it was then.

Ezra gently pushed the towels back into her arms and began to unbuckle the belt at the waist of the jumpsuit. Her eyes grew wide and she held up a hand to stop him. He paused, puzzled again. How was he to wash if he didn't undress? She carefully placed the pile of cloths on top of a box made of some sort of woven wood, handed him a bottle of something from a shelf, and made her way to the door. Before exiting, she said something else in a softer tone, the only word of which he understood was "wear". Or possibly "where" - the translator wasn't too clear on that. Didn't...didn't she want to see his body? Did his one arm offend her after all? Or perhaps they had different thoughts about the body here, perhaps it was not to be seen or shared too readily - though she had shown him her stomach hole without any shame.

He sighed. Navigating this world without being able to make himself heard or understood would be a challenge. Though he had some practice at it when he had been forced to move in the upper circles of nobility, when his parents had paraded him in front of the other families like a prized animal, sufficiently fattened and ready for slaughter. He had always felt so different to the other children of the grand houses. The ones he had met had been so incredibly dull - perfectly content to do as they were told without rebellion and seemingly incapable of thinking about life beyond their own immediate surroundings. Before he had actively turned down proposals, he had managed to make himself as unattractive to them as possible, simply by caring about things other than wealth and the acquisition and retention of the same. Or perhaps they had just been better than him at hiding their own distaste at the path laid out for them, and too scared to deviate from it. He sighed again. If his reckonings were correct, at least he was permanently away from all that now. Not that they would have ever forgiven him for what he had done.

He took off his boots and stripped his jumpsuit and underwear away. As he did so, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Himself, reflected. A mirror beautifully wrought in some light metal and that echoed the swirling patterns of his markings was on the wall above a small basin. His jaw dropped as he saw himself for the first time in...well who knew how long the time frame between universes could be? Many days, for a certainty. He moved closer and examined himself.

His dark hair had gone completely white. An unnatural colour, almost. While he had been starting to notice streaks of grey in it and in his beard, this was something quite different. He touched his head gingerly. It still felt like his curls, though they were lank from lack of washing and heavy with encrusted salt from the water. His eyes were sunken from many days of no proper nutrition, bloodshot from the concurrent shocks of being immersed in space and then in saline, and had a strange expression within them. Haunted, wild, unsettled, yet there was a spark of himself in there still. His cheekbones and clavicle stood starkly raised from his skin. Bruises ranging from black to purple to green to yellow were scattered across him, some minor lacerations and grazes too. Old blood was crusted around his nostrils and cuticles. He shivered, both from the cool air in the bathroom upon his naked skin, and from how he appeared to his own eyes. Half wild and feral but not in a good way. No wonder her reactions had been muted. Still...there had been a reaction, even in this not-groomed, half starved state. Ezra smiled to himself again and stepped into the tub, sighing in satisfaction at the feel of the pattering water upon his abused skin.

He had no idea how long he stood there, enjoying the simple delight of hot water, but grey grime and old blood and even pieces of the beach plant washed from him before he picked up the bottle she had provided. He opened it and a breath of something unknown hit his nose - light and floral, and it reminded him of a young sun filtering through the treetops. The translator was aural only, so the markings on the bottle meant nothing to him. He doubted he would recognise the name of the smell even if she said it anyway. He poured a generous measure onto his chest and soaped his body and hair thoroughly before rinsing, repeating until he felt truly clean and the water that washed from him stayed clear.

Once he felt more himself again, he fiddled with the dials on the tub, making the water extremely hot and then freezing before he worked out how to turn it off completely. The soft cream coloured cloths she had left were within reach and he found they dried his skin and hair well enough. He wondered how to go about leaving the room - she had seemed almost fearful about seeing his naked form before - so he covered as much as himself as he could with the cloths, wrapping them around himself until only his head, feet and hand were poking out.

He needn't have worried. When he cautiously opened the door a bag made of some kind of rustling plastic was sitting there, a pile of clothes inside. A waft of delicious smelling food and noises of sizzling and clattering from the kitchen all but smacked him in the face, and he realised just how faint he felt from hunger as his stomach growled loudly and his mouth began to water.

The smell and the sounds of cooking forcibly reminded him of Cee. The last time they had ever spoken properly had been over a meal. She had wanted them to stick together forever, even though he had tried to explain that life with him wasn't what she needed to pursue, that he wasn't a good father figure and she would know nothing but hardship and violence and the vile underbelly of the seven systems if she stayed with him. She had said she hadn't cared, that he had already been more of a father to her than her own flesh and blood ever had. And for a while after the events of the Green, they had indeed been good travelling companions to each other. But his injury meant he couldn't work as he once had, and her youth only encouraged the gaze of the most wicked eyes and before long destitution and the desperation it bred came closer than either of them could deal with. He couldn't bear to see her even consider the things she might have to do to provide for them. And so he had done something that had made him hate himself more than she ever could. He had broken the deal he had made many years prior whilst in the depths of a cell in the bowels of the notorious Glasshouse. A deal with his despised Uncle, the terms of which allowed him his freedom from said incarceration and a chance to live. He had given both of those things up for Cee by contacting his parents.

He had begged them to take her in. Claimed her as his own in blood as well as kinship, said he had got her on some bastard of a grandee of a minor house far away. They had to know it was a lie, and even if they hadn't, the truth wouldn't have been very hard to prove. But the continuing overwhelming need for some sort of heir combined with their extreme shock at learning that their errant son was still alive meant that they had grudgingly accepted his account. He had drugged Cee's food on that last night and delivered her to them, knowing full well that she would have never agreed to the terms of her future if she had been conscious. He wasn't proud of his actions, but he absolutely stood by them - the story of his whole existence.

And while his parents didn't go so far as to immediately claim her as their long-lost heir, he had learned during his final incarceration in the skies above his homeworld that they had at least made tentative steps along that road by sending her to one of the best schools in the systems, protecting her with their wealth. Ezra thought that perhaps she could learn to live with that kind of life as he never had. That she would marry a match of their choosing and be happy with her new start. Knowing what he did of her, that seemed unlikely at best, and he hoped that at the very least she would be smart enough to take advantage of the education and safety they were providing and use it to gain the upper hand in life. He had spoken to her just once via speaker after he had handed her over, and her tone with him down the line had been accusatory and heartbroken, knowing as she did that he had sacrificed everything for her future. Well what else could he have done? In the end he put the child ahead of himself and hoped one day she would come to appreciate it instead of feeling like he had abandoned her.

He brought the bag back into the wash-room and began to dress himself, his body's need to eat and drink suddenly overriding all else. The soft, line-patterned trousers weren't quite long enough and the long sleeved top was also a little short, showing off some of his abdomen and not quite covering his wrist. There was no underwear provided but there was a pair of thick, soft red socks which he put on his cold feet with gratitude. He took a couple of seconds to look at himself once more in the mirror and felt a little better about what he saw. At the very least he wasn't grimy and saltwater-logged anymore. He put his soiled clothes into the bag and went to join his saviour in the kitchen.

Taglist - @the-blind-assassin-12 @cannedsoupsucks @doommommy @shirks-all-responsibilities @thisshipwillsail316 @chaoticgeminate @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi

[cannedsoupsucks]

One of the things that I most appreciate about the Reader in your stories is that they are authentic and honest. Especially when it might be easier to tell white lies or what they think the other person might want to hear.

I look forward to Javi showing her that some things are not too good to be true 💕

Not Like The Movies - 1

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female reader

Word Count: 4,981

Rating: There’s only like one or two instances of language, everything else is very tame - this is a first date, after all.

Summary: Your first date with Javi brings up some uncomfortable topics, but at least you’re being honest … right? 

Author’s note:

I’m still unsure of where this one is going - but I’m having fun so I’m not going to complain. I am really happy that the intro was so well received, and I hope that you enjoy this part just as much. Javi is a lot of fun to write - and I’ve been trying to balance that playful, child-like charm that we see throughout most of the movie with what we learn about him in the end … it’s challenging. I welcome questions, concerns and criticism - so don’t be shy! 

Intro (and masterlist!) can be found here!

You were outside of the restaurant at 6:40 on Friday, second guessing whether or not you even wanted to go in. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Javi - it was that you regretted making the suggestion in the first place. Javi telling you that he was staying on the Upper West Side should have been your first clue to the man’s status. The offer to send a car for you should have been the second. But I suggested it before, when I thought he was just … just some guy. 

But Javi wasn’t just ‘some guy’ and a simple Internet search had confirmed the reason why you’d recognized his name and face - at least somewhat.

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

🥰😢

Locked Down Part 15: The Goodbye

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,984

Rating: Not Safe For Work. Twice. Lots of feelings. 

Summary: The hours are winding down until Dieter and Jenna’s departure, and the two of you are making the most of them … in a lot of ways. 

Author’s note:

I hate doing this to them as much as you all hate me for doing it … but it was necessary. I promise. 

Catch up on the other parts here: Locked Down Masterlist

You felt much better the following morning, especially when you woke up to the feeling of Dieter kissing your stomach, the man kneeling over your legs, the weight of his body suspended above you on his elbows. He’d pushed your shirt up to give himself access to your skin, and he hadn’t showered or shaved while you slept, meaning that his hair was still sleep-wild, making it much fluffier than usual. “Morning, Dieter.” You hummed out his name as you stretched, bringing a hand up to cover your yawn. “What time is it?” 

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

I want pizza, movies, ice cream and kisses with Javi

Not Like The Movies - 2

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female reader

Word Count: 7,566

Rating: Language, maybe a few references to sex, mentions of the Gutierrez family history. *SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE MOVIE* 

Summary: It’s been a few days since you’ve spoken to Javi - and you’re starting to think he won’t be in touch … until he is. What will date #2 entail? 

Author’s note:

I think I have a better idea of what’s going to happen with this story now, so fingers crossed I’ll be able to have it play out on “paper” the way it’s going in my head. There’s not going to be as much conflict in this story as there is in some of my others, but honestly, I don’t think there needs to be. That’s not to say there won’t be some issues, though.  Thank all of you for the support and the love you’ve shown in the first two parts of this -  I appreciate it (and all of you!!!) so damn much. 

*Posted this first because I was not ready to drop 5k words of Jay Castillo smut on a Monday afternoon.

Intro (and masterlist!) can be found here!

The following Tuesday, you were sitting at your desk at work when your phone’s screen lit up. Despite your best efforts to keep it from happening, your heart leapt at the sight of Javi’s name. You’re an idiot. 

He’d done exactly what he promised the previous Friday night, the man opening the door of his car and then sliding into the backseat after you. He hadn’t tried to crowd you on the short drive to your apartment building, but he had kept up a steady stream of conversation, his eyes on your face the whole time, his hand resting right alongside yours on the seat between you. 

When the car pulled up to the curb, the man was quick to exit, bending down and reaching out with one hand, waiting for you to take it. Like the perfect gentleman, he’d walked you to the front door of the building and then stepped to the side, ensuring that the two of you weren’t blocking the entryway. 

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

I appreciate how you didn't have Pope and the reader immediately have sex. It felt real that they shared a couple of kisses and are now taking some time to process how they feel and how they're going to move forward. I also admire Frankie because I don't know how he's not feeling jealous. I know I couldn't do it!

Caught On - Part 4

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader x Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

Word Count: 7,705

Rating: Explicit. (language, sexual acts, sexual contact with two separate men)

Summary: This is it: the moment when things change between you and Pope … what happens between the two of you - and how do you handle it? But just as importantly, how do Pope and Frankie handle it? 

Author’s note:

I am so damn sorry that this has taken so long to get out. I didn’t forget about them, I just got really sidetracked with other things. But we’re back! Thank you all for being so patient with me. 

Catch up here: Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3

He would have stopped if he’d wanted to. You knew that - you knew exactly how he would have reacted - freezing and then straightening all the way up, pulling himself away from you and out of your hold, hands leaving your body without hesitation as he turned away and spluttered out an excuse. But Pope didn’t do any of those things, and before you knew it, he was kissing you, the man’s lips soft and warm against yours. 

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

Oh darling Dieter ❤️ I'm relieved/ pleased to see that his overdose has lead to a lot of introspection, growth, and a willingness to be vulnerable with the cactus flower. I just love him 🥰

Locked Down - Dieter’s POV (Parts 11-13)

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 14,551 (it’s a big one.)

Placement within the story:  Meant to be red post chapter 13 - because that’s where it leaves off.

Rating: M. Mentions of drug use and Dieter’s OD, the aftermath of that night, talk of death, language, sex, adult themes … par for this story, but there’s nothing too graphic in here. 

Trigger Warnings: Drugs and drug use, alcohol, an overdose, needles

Summary: Dieter’s got a lot of thoughts about what happened to him the night of The Incident, but even those pale in comparison to what goes on in his head after. 

Author’s note:

So, since a lot has changed and ramped up in the last few chapters of Locked Down, I thought that it would be nice to take a peek into Dieter’s head and see exactly where he’s coming from with this new behavior - and what pushes him to be so honest and open with the people in his life that he cares about: in this case, you. 

This got very long, but I hope you enjoy it. (Side note, every single word I write about this man makes me love him even more.)

Catch up on the other parts here: Locked Down Masterlist

He felt the muscles in his back and chest tighten, and Dieter’s eyes flew open.

What the fuck? He registered himself taking in a deep, wheezing breath, but his eyes wouldn’t focus. Not at first, anyway - and then he saw you, the man blinking as your features became clear. She wasn’t here before. But now she … she is.

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

Are you sure your word count is correct? When I reached the end I thought no way was that 4,982 words because it felt like I was only reading for a couple of minutes. So good!

I was only going to read the first chapter tonight, but since time stood still while I read it, I'm off to read chapter 2!

Locked Down Part 1: The Room

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,982

Rating: None necessary? Mentions of the pandemic’s early days, quarantining, talk of COVID symptoms and after effects, etc. 

Summary: After contracting COVID at the end of a work assignment overseas and doing your required quarantine, you’re finally ready to fly home. There’s only one problem: 

The estate you were staying in has been locked down due to a major film production, and no one is supposed to leave - or, in the case of you needing a ride to the airport - come onto the property. 

With a little help from your boss and a favor from the head of the studio making the movie, an unfortunate mistake turns into the work opportunity of a lifetime … and may even have a few bonus perks, too. 

Author’s note:

I don’t even know what this is, but here we are. I’m a sucker for a cocky man with fluffy hair and a gold hoop … aren’t you? My take on Dieter is a little different from a lot of the ones others have, but I still hope you enjoy him. 

This is eventually gonna get smutty, but we’ve gotta work for it, friends… quarantining is serious business and Dieter is very nervous about his health. 

Thank you for reading; feedback is much appreciated on this one! Tag list to follow. 

You were bored out of your mind, and had been for over a week. 

It was to be expected - you’d been in a “two week” quarantine for nearly a month thanks to the fact that just before your first seclusion period ended after potential contact with an infected person, you’d tested positive for COVID, too. 

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

She's been released from Cliff Beasts prison! I love the fanfic reference 😁

Locked Down Part 16: The Escape

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,237

Rating: M. Some swearing, just a little angst. (a mention of some spice but nothing graphic)

Summary: Dieter’s gone, but that doesn’t mean you’re not in contact. But with him on the other side of an ocean, you’re free to pay more attention to your surroundings - and growing discontent with the rest of the cast. 

Author’s note:

This chapter (and the next) are much different than the others in this story - and have been a challenge to write. Please enjoy. 

Catch up on the other parts here: Locked Down Masterlist

The only immediate thing that Dieter leaving changed for you was the amount of sleep that you got per night. 

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

I love and hate a good cliffhanger. I'm excited to learn what's inside the box. I was thinking maybe a ring and thought nah, that can't be it. Then I thought maybe a key to his place and thought that doesn't make sense to me since they've never been each other's place and live so far apart. I then went back to jewelry and thought perhaps a locket, but I just don't if he's that sentimental. Ugh! I'm going to be ruminating on this for quite awhile.

Locked Down Part 13: The Breakdown

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 9,259

Rating: M (slightly raunchy). There’s mention of what happened to Dieter, but not in detail. Language. Sex. Alcohol. 

Summary: Things on he set of Cliff Beasts 6 continue to go downhill, and without Dieter’s daily set presence, it’s noticeable. 

As the man’s departure date nears, the two of you admit to a lot more than either of you ever planned to - but it only leads to more questions and uncertainty. 

Author’s note:

This chapter ended up being longer than the others, but I needed to get to a certain spot before I cut it. I hope you understand. 

We divide from canon a little more here, but it’s not too much - just to keep things flowing the way that I’ve been writing them. 

Also, with this chapter, I’ll be taking a short break from posting a new one every other day - this is the last piece that I have written as of right now - but I DO have two other Locked Down related pieces in the works that I would like to finish.  I am also ITCHING to get back to Jay and the Catfish Popeboy in “Caught On” - and I have a Javi P story that’s just about finished … so don’t worry - this story isn’t DONE, I’m just taking a pause in the main chapters to get some other things done (I’ve written 100k for this story in less than a month, so it’ll be nice to diversify)

Catch up on the other parts here: Locked Down Masterlist

Six days later, you were finishing with filming for the day, carefully packing your cameras up for the night. It had been a bad day on the set - Carol actually had a full on meltdown, going off on Darren about changing her scene to one with no lines and moving her to the back of the group without warning. Krystal’s response to that had been a small tantrum of her own about how she deserved the spotlight, Sean trying to play peacekeeper along with Dustin. But then Lauren stepped in, raising her voice and getting into both Krystal and Darren’s faces. That effectively halted filming for nearly an hour while everyone calmed down, but it had thrown everything off - including your work, because you’d had to try and figure out which horrible situation deserved your attention the most.

And at the sight of Jenna standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, you knew the day was about to get worse. “Jenna.” You sighed, zipping the camera bag. “Done with your quarantine? I didn’t know -” “Are you busy?” She stepped closer, dropping her arms. “Just got in a little while ago, and I haven’t been up to see Dieter yet. I wanted to talk to you first.” Shit. 

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

I love how goofy and fun Deiter is. I would love to share a balcony wall with him any day!

Locked Down Part 2: The Neighbor

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,243

Rating: M. Language, mentions of COVID, some alcohol references, some sex talk / relationship talk 

Summary: Officially hired on to work for the Cliff Beasts 6 shoot, you settle into your new routine … and get to know your neighbor a little better. 

Is Dieter Bravo really who he seems to be? Who knows - but you’ve got a couple months to find out. 

Author’s note:

Uh, so, the response to part one? INSANE. Thank you all so much for reading and for commenting and for giving my take on this character a shot. I’m about 1900 words into part 5 right now, so as long as I can keep up some momentum, this one should update regularly. I’m having a ton of fun with this story - so I hope you do, too. 

Catch up on part 1 here

Stepping out of the elevator the following morning, you were unsurprised to see that the blonde was again behind the front desk and looked as unenthused to see you as she previously had. She gave you a tight smile as you walked closer, and instead of greeting her with just a clipped ‘hello’, you swallowed your pride and zeroed in on her nametag. Anika. “Good morning, Anika. I’m supposed to ask you where the production team is set up, I guess I have some documents to sign?” 

Keep reading

[cannedsoupsucks]

Ok folks... we're off to the races!

Locked Down Part 5: The Truth

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,191

Rating: M. Language, mentions of COVID, some alcohol, some sex talk / relationship talk, Darren the director being an a-hole

Summary: You notice some things that others don’t, and when you mention them, shit hits the fan. 

But Dieter also notices some things … and comes clean about them when it matters most. 

Author’s note:

I’m sorry this is up so late tonight, HOWEVER … I forgot that it was Dieter Day, and had to switch gears from wrtiting to editing. Oops. 

Also, this story officially hit 50k last night with part 8 complete … so uh… yay? 

Thank you all for the support so far! 

Catch up on parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

The longer you worked on the movie, the more convinced you were that you were the only one in the crew that was paying attention to anything. 

The actors were doing what they needed to do - multiple takes as directed, making the most out of the scripts that they had, trying to get used to being confined to the hotel and without a lot of the perks of their lifestyles that they’d gotten used to in Hollywood. Surprisingly, they seemed to be handling everything better than the rest of the crew, especially when compared to the way everyone else was behaving. And how focused they are… or aren’t.

Keep reading