#i would prefer to tag what this is more about directly but that would give away the spoiler | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

russellsppttemplates · 5 months

Text

I never knew anybody 'til I knew you (Lando Norris)

Your new job is allowing you to have new experiences, and your heart is not too mad about it either

Note: english is not my first language. After a long time in the books, I'm finally writing for Lando! This is my first long piece and I hope I did well enough!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: curse words, mentions alcohol consumption

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm just saying, it's closer that way. We can go and get the packages ourselves and sort out any issues with them straight away", Lando reasoned, opening his text message app so he could continue what he wanted to do. "Okay, fine by me. He's got a point, Y/N", Max raised his hands in surrender, looking at you for your opinion.

Working for Quadrant hadn't been a goal you had set out to accomplish in the strict sense of it. You didn't see yourself working for a massive company where people were stuffed in offices where the only way they could know their colleagues' names was when they had online meetings that took far too long and discussed the baseline of the issues. So, when you saw the job offer for someone in the Graphic Design area of work, you looked up the company name and saw their work, fascinated with how the guys had grown this business from streaming online gaming. Later, as you progressed in the recruitment process, you came to learn that Lando and Max also had a more public presence than you had initially figured out, despite all of your friends' insistence that "you can't be that clueless, Y/N, how did you not know that Quadrant was Lando Norris'? I thought you applied because of that", they would say as you shrugged your shoulders, "in this economy, do you think I am that picky about a job? I have my preferences, sure, but I know what I'm worth and I saw the offer was actually quite okay!", you defended yourself.

You ended up getting the spot and, so far, you couldn't complain. Most of the time you worked with Callum, Max and Tara, since your work overlapped with theirs, and every now and again, like right now, Lando would also meet up with you.

"Are you sure it's fine if I go? Your parents know Max, but they haven't met me before. Are you sure they won't find it weird?", you spoke directly to Lando, thinking that his idea, as lovely and kind as it was, didn't account for the facts you were stating.

"Max is coming because he's from the team, and you're from the team, too, so you're coming with us as well", Lando said simply, not seeing the problem.

"But he's been your friend for so long now, I'm a Quadrant Team member", you attempted again, "they don't have to provide for and give a roof to a stranger, I'll find an hotel to spend the night", you offered, wanting to be clear about it.

"You're part of the team, too! Don't worry about that, okay?", Lando said, "besides, mum loves having a full house, she's definitely the host of the family", he smiled, checking the item on his list nd carrying on the meeting.

"When we're there, we'll be able to get our hands on the embroidered Originals collection", Max began, "hopefully they're perfect and we can start working on the website", he gestured as you turned your laptop so they both could see, "this is the concept I've come up with, since this isn't as flashy or as colourful as past collections", you showed them the mood board, looking for disapproval signs but being met with looks of surprise instead, "I know it's not usually what you go for, so I also have another idea here, if you just let m-", you were about to change when Lando slapped your hand away from the mouse and holding it in his, "I really like this one, especially these posts here, I think the ideas are great!", he noted as he set your hand down on the table, "okay, then I can keep working on this", you said, closing the other tab, "do you have something better than this?", Max asked, "seems as good to me!", he offered.

"This is just a draft, I'll invest more time in this and I'll have it ready for the end of the week. That way we can have it ready when the clothes arrive. I'll text Tara to ler her know", you smiled, grabbing your phone as the boys flickered through the ideas, pointing out the different details they liked and wanted to keep.

"I'm way too young for my life to be just this, so please drive safely, Max", you said, buckling your seatbelt and exaggerating your hold on the door handle, "if you weren't such a crucial part of this team, I'd make you reconsider your jokes", he teased back, reversing out of the parking space and initiating the trip.

Lando was already at his parents' house since they had a family gathering the day before, so you and Max were driving up to meet him, "they're really nice people, really chilled as well", Max began, "Adam and Cisca, that is. I can hear you thinking and I'm assuming that is what's going on in your head", he stated.

"I don't want to step on anyone's toes, and I don't want to embarrass anyone or myself even. Can you imagine Lando's parents finding out their son's company has questionable employees? They'll mark me off as some sort of strategy fool or think that I want to take this company down, and I don't!", you uttered out, sharing more than you meant to.

Impostor's Syndrome was a bitch, and it often showed up the moment things got progressively harder, and while you knew you were able to deal with it, the little voice still nagged you.

"Y/N, you're one of the most valuable people we have on the team, and I don't say that lightly. This is Lando's baby, and yes, he's the face of it and that counts for most of it, but the work behind it is just as important and with the numbers we're having, it all comes down to you. Since you joined us the designing aspect of it, - obviously, you wouldn't be the one responsible for accounting, duh -, the compliments have been non stop, it has improved the interactions, too!", he said honestly, "you have nothing to worry about, truly", he comforted, "it's this exit here", he mumbled, checking the GPS and turning on the blinker, slowing down the car as they entered the city.

You didn't have to wait long before he pulled up to a big house, the gravel sound quieting down until it came to a halt when Max stopped the car, "Lando said he'd meet us at the door, I really don't fancy being mistaken by a burglar", he joked, getting out of the car as you did the same, stretching your legs and taking in the sight.

"Max, Y/N! Did you have a good trip?", Lando made himself be heard and seen, walking up to you and grabbing the bags his friend was taking out of the car boot, "I'll take these", he offered, picking up your luggage as you pulled on your backpack, "thanks", you smiled, following him as he led the way into his parents' house.

"My parents are in the kitchen", the Formula One driver said, ushering you to the roomy space after he and Max dropped the bags by the stairs, "Max, dear! We haven't seen you in so long, how are you?", a beautiful woman said. Her hair was brown and her skin was tanned as she hugged Max and Lando, "this is Y/N, she is our graphic designer", he presented you, the older man hugging you and his wife doing the same, "I'm Adam, it's so nice to finally meet you", he smiled warmly, "likewise", you smiled back.

"You can call me Cisca, darling. We've heard so much about you, it's nice to finally put a face to the name", she winked at you as you didn't miss Lando elbowing his mother as he closed his eyes, sighing at her, "thank you for having me over, I hope it's not too much trouble", you thanked again, feeling more at ease at their genuine welcoming greetings.

Lando quickly scrambled an answer, seemingly not wanting his parents to talk, "of course it's fine, no trouble here! Let's get your things upstairs so we can settle in and work!", he clapped his hands, walking to the corridor and up the stairs with Max as you excused yourself.

"This is your room, you have the bathroom on the next door", he pointed on the corridor after he placed your bag and backpack down in the small sofa, "Max is in the office, it's just across the hall and I'm at the end of the hall, if you need anything", Lando offered.

"Thanks, again. Do you guys want to begin now? I just need to put on some fluffy socks and I'm good to go", you said, "yes! Is the dining room okay with your parents? The table is big enough to layout everyhting", Max chirped in, whistling at your room as he looked around, "she got an upgrade, good move!", he tapped his friend's back.

After Lando cleared it with his parents, he was quick to remove the table runner and flower vase from the dining room table, extending it to its biggest size so you had all the space you needed, "you can sit here, Y/N, it's usually where the room heats up faster", he pointed out the radiator, pulling up the chair next to your and typing on his iPad.

"So this is the video idea? I like it, we just need to find some background music for it", Max asserted, grabbing his phone to check the time, "we should get going to pick up the order", he uttered.

"Do you need all of us to go?", you asked, saying the changes in your laptop as you did,

"You can pull your the backseats of your car down, can't you, Max? That way we can bring more boxes, and you and me go", Lando reasoned, looking over at you, "do you mind staying here while we go get them?", he asked, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

"I'll be fine, you go", you smiled, opening your notebook and writing down some notes.

"Oh, darling, you could've turned the lights on. Soon enough you'll be like me and need glasses", Cisca said as she stood on by the door, flickering the lights on as your eyes got used to the brightness, "I already wear them, or I should more often anyway", you blushed, suddenly getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar, grabbing your case from your backpack and putting them on.

When Lando and Max left, you decided to work on the website graphics, checking how the campaign would work with the current layout, that you lost track of time.

"May I see what you're working on?", she asked, "it's okay if I may not, I don't want to intrude", she smiled as you pulled up the chair next to you, "I don't know much about these things, but I always get quite fascinated with this part", she said, sitting down and looking at the screen.

Already driving back home, Lando and Max talked about the plans once they arrived, "and that way Y/N can also finish the social media stuff, and maybe you'll have more time to actually make a move on her", he teased.

Lando scoffed, "I'm not trying to make a move on her", he defended himself, "I'm glad to know, because if those moves were what you had, it wouldn't surprise it that it didn't go very far", Max yelped as his friend took the opportunity of the straight road ahead to hit his thigh, "so that's what you talk about? Here I am thinking about business and you're meddling in my love life?".

"I never said it was love life, but since you've admitted it, it's saving me time. So, what are you planning? I could help since this seems to be stalled", Max tried again, holding his hands in protection of his body in case Lando hit him again.

"I wouldn't know where to begin, I mean, it will make things awkward if this goes south, right? I'd never be able to look at her again, much less work with her", Lando admitted, "She's very kept to herself as well, I highly doubt that she'll want to be involved with me in that way. Whoever I date or interact with has to deal with enormous amount of public eye and I wouldn't spring that up on her", Lando mumbled, taking the road exit on his left.

"So you've given this some thought, too. Here we are thinking you're coming to the meetings to help and now you're just blushing when we talk about Y/N", Max joked back as Lando shook his head.

"We're back!", Lando announced, walking inside the dining room while pushing the boxes with Max, "don't worry, mum, we're not scratching the floors", he said, sweetly kissing the side of her head, "are you planning to work for us?", he noticed she was sitting next to you, notebooks of the projects open and sheets and fabrics all over the table in front of you.

"Y/N was kindly showing me the project you're working on, for the launch, and it looks really nice!", she complimented, placing a hand on your shoulder and the other on your arm, "she's been showing me everything, I've probably stolen some valuable time from you, darling, I'm sorry", she slumped her shoulders slightly, "not at all, it's all under way, don't worry", you smiled, easing her worries, "I'll leave you guys to it, how about I make some tea?", she suggest as the three of you nodded.

"We have the boxes here, they're sorted by colours", Lando opened the first box, "these are only for the Originals collection, right?", you checked over, peaking at the blue hoodie he pulled out.

"The sizing is right, right?", Max wondered as Lando stretched it out, "Y/N, can you try these, please? We need to check if the model is good for guys and girls".

Getting up from your spot, you grabbed the vibrant blue piece, feeling its soft texture against your fingertips, "I have wider hips that average, I'm not sure I'm the greatest test model for that", you shrugged your shoulders, "keep that in mind". Taking off your sweater so your torso was covered in a strappy top, you pulled the new garment on, adjusting the strings around the neck so you could pull it all the way down, "Oh, it's so soft", you noticed, "and warm, too. And feels quite good actually, it's not too tight", fumbling with the ribbed material on the bottom as you checked yourself out on the windows now that it was dark outside.

Lando gulped as you did so. Oh, had Lando noticed your hips. To anyone else, it would be another feature of your body, but he was enamoured by them. Your body's curvy outline enticed him and he would be lying if he said that it wasn't the first thing he noticed at first glance when you arrived for you last interview, especially with the tapered pants you had been wearing.

"Looks nice. What do you think, mate?", Max turned to Lando, hoping to get an answer but finding him looking at you, "is there something wrong? I told you I'm not the best mo-".

"It's gorgeous, looks gorgeous", he breathed out just as his mother walked inside carrying a tray with tea and some biscuits, "Here's the tea, guys", she said, setting it on the table, "wow, that's a very nice piece!", she complimented.

"It is, isn't it, Cisca?", Max said, covering up her son as he kept looking at you as you tested the front pocket, not noticing his gaze on you.

"You also have a very beautiful model, you can't ignore that factor in the equation", she complimented you while you grabbed a mug, taking a sip of the warm liquid and hoping it hid your pink cheeks, "thank you", you whispered.

While Lando helped his father with dinner, Max convinced his mother to show you both family albums, and once you had the delicious food they prepared, you excused yourself so you could use the shower, wanting to wash the day of travelling away. Max and Cisca stayed in the living room while Lando helped his father prepare dessert, checking on the apple crumble in the oven so it could get golden brown and not burnt, "so, any life updates recently?", the older man asked.

Lando wasn't around as much as they both would've liked, so often times his visits also came along with news and updates, "not much, racing has been good, it's nice to have a break now, even if it's just two weeks", he offered, looking at the oven.

"And nothing else? I mean, no one special? Your mother is usually the blunt one, but I'm going to try it myself: Y/N is just a Quadrant Team Member?", Adam questioned, noticing his son's cheeks become redder.

"Is it that noticeable? I just hope she doesn't see it as much as you do", Lando groaned, rubbing his cheeks, "maybe you should hope she notices, you know? Maybe she'll admit she likes you, too. You never know", Adam patted his son's back, grabbing the gloves so he could take the tray out of the oven, "she seems like a really nice girl, kind, good work ethic, intelligent, and she's beautiful", he finished as his son sighed, grabbing the vanilla ice cream from the freezer, "she's all of that and so much more".

"Kygo is doing a set tonight", you heard Max say as you walked inside the living room, taking the spot on the sofa next to Lando since his mother had taken your previous spot when you went to use the bathroom, "I've been meaning to ask you guys if you wanted to go, actually. He texted me saying to tell him if we were planning on going", Lando stated.

"Go and enjoy being young, life is not all about work if you can't enjoy yourself", Cisca shared, "dad and I won't complain if you make noise when you get back", she winked.

"Would you like to go, Y/N? You can say no, that's fine, too", Lando turned to you. He knew Max would be down on a heartbeat, but he didn't want you to feel pressured to do something you didn't want to because you were at his parents' place as a guest.

"I'm good, I like his music, too. I've been wanting to see him live for a bit, actually", you smiled, thinking about how lucky you were to be able to have these experiences because of your job and friends.

Later that night, you're getting ready in your room, sitting on the carpeted floor and applying your make-up for the occasion. The dressier outfit you had brought with you consisted of a burnt red top and some pants as it had become the outfit you had felt the most comfortable and confident in to go out. The top complimented your chest and your midsection as your pants looked really good around your hips and butt, your legs elongated by the small heeled shoes you had spent years looking for. They were comfortable, pretty and functional, ticking all the boxes for what you needed for tonight.

"Y/N, can I come in?", your heard Lando knock on the door, welcoming himself when you said he could, "we are leaving in about ten minutes, if that's okay", he said, taking a good look at you as you fiddled with your earring, "yes, fine by me", you smiled looking back in the mirror propped on the bedside table and finally clasping it, looking back at him.

You took his breath away. It was as simple as that. Your hair had your natural curls he loved so much, your makeup complimented your naturally soft beautiful features and your outfit made you look incredible.

"You guys ready?", Max patted the door, propping himself on it as you grabbed your shoes, "I'll put them on downstairs", you said, carrying them in your right hand as you had your small purse on the left.

While you did the small, dainty tie on your shoes, Lando's eyes went straight for your chest, the slightly bent down position granting him an agonisingly teasing angle as he tried his best to look away, "you might want to be less obvious, you don't need to creep her out to get her to be yours", Max whispered in Lando's ear.

As soon as you arrived, Lando and Max walked with you to the VIP area, asking you what you wanted to drink before they went up to get it.

Lando looked great on his white shirt, the light coloured shirt looking great against his tanned skin as the relaxed fit complimented his back, prompting you to make sure you weren't drooling in public. You worked for his company, it would never be a good idea to get romantically involved with him, no matter how many times your heart leaped.

"A very weak Gin and Tonic for you, as requested", Max said as he pushed the cup towards you, carrying nother drink for himself, Lando sitting next to you on the booth and empty handed, "you're not drinking?", you asked, "I'm driving us all home today, I'm want to do it safely", he stated, tapping his hands on the table when he saw Kygo, signalling him to approach you.

"Hey Lando, Max", he smiled, "I'm Y/N, I work for Quadrant", you smiled, greeting him with a half hug as he introduced himself too, "my set is in a few minutes, you got here just in time. If you want to see it up close, Y/N, let me know and I'll make it happen", he winked at you.

The wink was not missed by Lando or Max. While Max wanted to laugh at his friend's jealous expression, threatening to send the norwegian DJ to a place that was less than nice and sunny, Lando couldn't believe his eyes. Yes, it was only fair that others, too, saw your beauty and noticed you, but to put themselves out like that, that was a different story. You didn't seem to bothered by all of it, sipping on your drink as you spoke to Max, pointing out different people you remember from Silverstone earlier that year.

"Kygo's starting, I want to dance!", you said, getting up and gesturing for the boys to join you. While you were used to having a lot less space to dance in, the welcomed freedom was appreciated as you playfully placed your pointer finger on Max's head, making him do a little spin, "now, no need to be jealous, Lando, you can twirl, too!", you yelled over the music blasting from the speakers, doing the same and sinking your finger on Lando's curls.

"I'm going to get another drink, want anything?", Max asked, excusing himself when you shook your head, "you know you can drink, I'm the designated driver", Lando offered, "I know, thank you for that. I just don't want to drink more", you smiled, recognising the next song, feeling brave and pulling Lando by his hand so he could dance with you.

I never knew anybody 'til I knew you

And I know when it rains, oh, it pours

And I know I was born to be yours

Lando twirled you would face him, chest flush against his as his colourful eyes looked into yours intensely, "I know this is very forward, and very unlike me to be fair, but I need to get it out", he gulped as he spoke loudly in your ear, looking for any sign of discomfort from you, "I really like you, like, a lot. And I would like to know if you feel the same. Because Max and my parents seem to think you do, but all I know they're just saying so that I shut up about how much I love you and how much it would mean to me", he spoke loudly against your ear as the song played.

You were struck by his confession, not expecting it to ever happen, much less like this and in these circumstances.

"If you consider this a hostile work environment, I didn't want that, but I had to be honest with you", he gulped, "just say you don't feel the same and I'll drop the subject, okay? I might have to pretend to go somewhere else so I can be away from you a bit until things are not awkward, but don't worry, I won't drink because I'm driving and-", Lando belted out before you interrupted him, moving your face closer to his neck this time and speaking into his ear, "It's not hostile if it's consensual, right?", you smiled, a glint in your eye as his own widened, chuckling as he sang the the words in your ear, taking the opportunity to kiss your cheek near your earlobe.

"Took you two fucking long enough!", Max yelled as he approached you, tapping Lando's back in congratulations, "you know what this means, Y/N? I won't have to listen to him mope about how he thinks he was made for you and you were made for him, and that the universe would have to be playing a very bad joke of you two didn't end up together!".

"What makes you think I'll stop that? I just got the girl of my dreams, now I'll have the confirmations of all I've said! You'll just hear how amazing all of it is!", Lando smiled, hugging you close to him and kissing the top of your head.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

446 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Text

I can’t lose you // Mafia!Stucky x fem!reader

Summary: Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

Requested by: @tinkerbellasstuff (thank you so much for the request!)

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, dom/sub, hostage, threats of violence, angst, fluff, hurt, size difference, double penetration, protective steve/bucky, anal and vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, daddy kink, praise kink, begging, subspace, pet names, not beta read

Word: 5.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“You know, this feels more like a treat for the both of you rather than me”, you explained watching Steve and Bucky skim through the dresses on the rack around the store and pile their favourites in front of you. Dating the leader of the Rogers mafia had its perks, Steve knowing all the right people had managed to book out the entire store for you to look and purchase anything that you wanted, something he liked to do on occasions to treat you. However, you always hated spending his money, the situation almost feeling wasteful so the shopping experience usually felt like you were being Bucky or Steve’s shadow as they searched through the clothes that they thought you would like or want you to wear which you much preferred to do. Especially as they both had a very good eye for picking out the most beautiful clothing, even though they seemed to be eye-watering expensive.

“If you bite that lip one more time hot mama, I’m going to take it out myself” Bucky muttered as he placed a suspiciously short black dress in front of you, not taking his eyes off of yours as he backed away, disappearing into the mass of clothing rails. Releasing the lip that you hadn’t realised was between your teeth as you shook your head, looking at the article of clothing now in your hands.

“You know, I might just let him”, Steve then whispered into your ear, making you jump not having noticed that he was close. It was now his turn to pass you a deep maroon silk dress. Both of your cheeks warmed at his words, something Steve seemed to notice as he leaned to peck your cheek and smile against your skin. “I love how easy it is to make your flush, baby”.

“I’m going to try some on!” you declared, standing quickly, holding the two dresses tightly in your hand, brushing past the Blonde mafia boss, ignoring his chuckle at your reactions as you moved into the empty changing rooms.

Breezing into one of the cubicles and shutting the curtain behind you, a few seconds passed as you decided which dress to try on first before finally going for the maroon dress. As you were about to ease the jumper up and over your head, a noise was heard on the other side of the curtain, stopping your movements. Smiling to yourself whilst simultaneously rolling your eyes, you shouted, “Steve, I’ve not even tried the first dress on yet, give me some time”-.

All words were cut off as the curtain was yanked to the side, revealing a deranged-looking man that you recognised from a few weeks ago. Not even daring to breathe as your heart pounded violently in your chest, staring at the man that you couldn’t quite remember his name, not that you could even remember your own when you noticed the gun being lifted to point directly at your forehead.

When you and Steve first started dating, he had spent hours going over how to react in different scenarios whether it was kidnap, being tied to a chair or being held at gunpoint but you’d never been in this sort of situation before, Steve and Bucky having never left your side for you to be in any danger. Trying your hardest not to allow fear to take over you completely, thinking hard over what Steve had taught you. The first was to show you were no threat, most of Steve’s enemies were triple the size of you and rather than trying to fight them off, you’d have to make them feel like they were in control so, you raised your shaking hands palms up, showing your surrender. Next was that you must follow their orders if and when necessary until help arrives, try and find out as much information as possible from the threat but as you looked into the desperate man's wild eyes, you didn’t want to risk upsetting him anymore by asking for his name. So you stayed in silence, as you heard Steve and Bucky talking close by, internally begging that you both stayed in there, you couldn’t even think about either of the boys being hurt but luck wasn’t on your side as he waved the gun in the direction of the boys, a silent command for you to walk ahead.

Exiting the changing cubicle, still facing the man, you took slow, steady steps backwards toward the main area of the store. “Turn around”, your heart dropped at his words, hating the fact that you had to have your back to the man with the gun.

Doing as commanded, you held back a scream as his arm was suddenly around your throat, not fully restricting your airwards but enough to make you struggle and grip his forearm to try and ease the tension as the cold tip of the gun was now pressed against your temple. He now led the way with his body behind yours, pushing you forward and entering the store once more. Your eyes desperately flicked between Steve and Bucky who both had their backs towards the two of you, still idly looking at clothes.

“Hands up!” the stranger shouted suddenly, making you jump, breath coming in shuddering bursts as you watched both of your boyfriends instinctively reached for their own guns in the holster attached to their chests but stopping when quickly when they turned and saw your predicament.

“Steve” you pleaded, hoping your voice wouldn’t annoy the man behind you but he didn’t say anything, only pushed the gun further into your temple causing a slight whimper to come out of your lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” the man demanded at Steve and Bucky’s movements. “Do you want me to blow a hole in her head, is that it? Both of you slowly, take out your guns and slide them over to me and if I hear either of your safety being clicked I can guarantee I will shoot her before you shoot me”. Both men stopped their movements instantly taking a second to contemplate the man's threats before slowly undoing the strap holding their guns to the belts and then sliding them across the floor until they knocked into your feet.

Now it had been a few minutes, and you had contemplated trying to disarm the man exactly how you’d been taught to do but now with the added pressure of both potentially being in the firing line and your increasing panic attack trembling beneath the surface, you decided against it. Instead, you tried to tug on his arm away from your neck as his rising anger only meant that he was cutting off your airway more.

Steve managed to catch your eye, seemingly not even blinking, almost like he was trying to communicate with you and for the most part, it helped you to steady your breathing. Your trust in Steve and Bucky was much more than the fear you held over the man holding you hostage but with their weapons now at your feet and they couldn't approach any closer, only the negative outcomes were consuming your thoughts entirely.

“Paul, don’t be stupid, point the gun somewhere else”, Steve’s voice remained calm as he addressed the man behind you, his name now sparking the memory of seeing him only two weeks ago in the boy's office, he looked just as angry then as he did now. Even as your body continued to tremble, you tried to hold eye contact with Steve’s unnaturally calm face, a clear comparison to Bucky’s when you had briefly glanced over and seen unfathomable rage, his body shaking slightly.

“Oh, should I? Did you do the same when my brother pleaded for his life a month ago?” Paul’s snarled, voice breaking slightly as if he was on the verge of tears. The hand holding the gun began to tremble with his heightening emotions but then he seemed to study himself, pressing it in further into your temple causing both pressure and pain to leave you gasping and knees buckling.

Steve and Bucky both shifted forward at hearing you in pain but Paul continued to shout, “stop! Hands-on your head, both of you. Did you really think you could get away with killing my brother? That there would be no repercussions for your actions, Rogers?”

You weren’t sure when but you’d begun to cry, wetness pooling down your cheeks, a sight that seemed to make Bucky flinch before he decided to speak up. “What do you think you’re going to achieve doing all this Paul? You kill her then what? We let you leave? Do you really think you’re going to get out of this situation without being skinned alive”. His voice was dripped with venom as he spoke and you could feel Paul shake slightly at the threat before he righted himself, standing to his full height which only caused you to stand on your tip toes from his grip around your throat.

“Maybe you’re right Barnes, I won’t get out of this alive, but what makes you so certain that you will?”

“No!” One moment the gun was pressed against your head and the next it was being pointed at Bucky and it was almost on instinct that you released your hold on his arm and reached for the gun, pulling it back to point at you. It was like a reflex, not fully comprehending what you’d done but judging by the dark looks in Steve and Bucky’s eyes, they weren’t happy with it.

What shocked you next was a chuckle coming from the man holding you, his mouth moving to your ear which only caused more rage in Steve’s eyes. “Do you really want to die for these murderers?” he whispered.

“Yes”, you answered honestly, without a moment's hesitation. Pauls's arm tightened around your throat with more strength, cutting off any chance of you breathing in. Struggling against his hold, eyes now closing as the overwhelming pressure increased in your head, white noise pounding in your ears.

“Have it your way then”, Paul continued, the cool tip of the gun once again pressing in against your head, if you’d opened your eyes you would have noticed Steve and Bucky make a move to step forward when the deafening bang of a gun firing echoed throughout the store.

Almost in an instant, the arm around your neck loosens so that you were able to suck in the deepest breath you’d ever experienced but it only caused you to cough violently, trying desperately to take more and more breaths as your knees gave way. A warm body caught you before were able to collide with the floor and Steve’s urgent voice was whispering in your ear as he was able to drag you across the store.

In the rush and panic of the store being raided by other members of Steve’s gang, you were able to spot Paul lifeless on the floor with blood pouring from the fatal wound in his head but Steve was quick to cup your cheeks and turn you away from the scene. “That’s it baby keep taking nice long breaths for me, in and out. Are you injured anywhere else? Are you ok?” You’d never heard Steve fully lose control like this before, no matter the situation he was always level-headed but he seemed just as close to having a panic attack as you were.

As he spoke, he continued to move you throughout the Store until the sun was beaming down on you and the car door was being opened for him to place you into the backseat. Steve’s thumbs brushed away the tears that had stained your cheek, you were able to respond. “Steve, I’m ok, I think, I’m-I’m fine” your fingers rubbed against your neck, something Steve was quick to notice.

His fingers lingered on the sore spot before leaning his face closer and fiercely kissing your forehead, taking a deep breath in, almost like he was trying to memorise your smell before swiftly leaving and shutting the car door behind him and walking back into the shop. Muffled, you were able to hear him shout to Bucky, “take her home, now!”

The brunette was out of the store and into the driver's side of the car in only a few strides, engine on and the store was far in the rear-view mirror. In the shock of suddenly driving off without Steve, your tears had ceased and concern had replaced fearful feelings as Bucky drove harshly through traffic, definitely going over the speed liit as he swerved around cars. “Bucky please slow down, we should have waited for Steve.”

“Put your seatbelt on”, was his only response, blue eyes unblinking as he stared ahead at the road. You couldn’t sit in the back and not be close to him, not after everything that had occurred so made the decision to quickly climb into the front of the car and into the passenger side seat.

“You need to put your seatbelt on as well”, you tried to tell him, fumbling with shaking fingers to clip in your own. Bucky didn’t say a single word as he kept one hand on the wheel, and the other helped to click your seatbelt before quickly doing his own. The two of you didn’t speak another word, even though you wanted to talk, tell him how much you love him, how scared you were, how thankful you are to him and Steve and the gang but every time your mouth opened, all thoughts dispersed.

Finally giving up on the words, you watched him carefully. How painfully his jaw was clenched, the metal hand that was holding the steering wheel so violently you could see the material was beginning to bend and he was sat so still you were sure for a moment that he wasn’t breathing.

So lost in watching Bucky, you’d not noticed that the two of you had arrived at the gates of your home until the car stopped directly outside of the front door. The silence was almost deafening as you swallowed thickly but Bucky’s thoughts seemed to be somewhere far away. Deciding to make the first step, you unclipped both your and Bucky’s seat belt.

“Don’t you ever point the gun at yourself and risk your life for me ever again, do you understand?” His voice was only just above a whisper, cold and full of passion as his eyes finally snapped to look at yours.

You weren’t sure what to respond with, on instinct wanting to disagree, having made the same decision a thousand times more but with the panic and hurt in his eyes, you weren’t sure you could have this conversation right now.

“Yes, I understand”.

“Good… because I can’t lose you” Bucky’s voice cracked as well as your heart as his eyes became glossy with unshed tears.

“I can’t lose you either”, you couldn’t hold back your emotions as warm tears escaped the corner of your eyes as the two of you reached for one another. Bucky opened his arms as you climbed across the car until you were straddling his lap, the steering wheel uncomfortable against your back but you didn’t care as he held you close to his chest. Finally, you released the pent-up emotions, sobbing into his shirt as he comforted you with soft whispers and delicate strokes of his fingers through your hair.

Eventually, your cries calmed and a soft buzz hummed through your veins, muscles relaxing into his hold, the warmth from his body consuming you thoroughly. “It’s ok, I’ve got you, no one’s going to hurt you now, I’m never letting you go”, Bucky continued to whisper comforts that made you feel safe.

A knock at the car window had Bucky shifting but you paid no attention to it, wanting to only be with Bucky, unsure of even how much time had passed. The sound of the door opening filled the silence, and then Steve’s voice was floating to your ears. “Is she asleep?”

“No I don’t think so, are you sweetheart?” Bucky asked before kissing the side of your head.

“I’m awake, sir” you were able to mumble, feeling even fuzzier, mouth dry and head spinning slightly. “I feel funny”.

“Lets’s get you inside baby” Steve encouraged, working with Bucky to ease you from the car and once more half-carrying you into your home.

Promptly you found yourself being placed onto the couch, your body melting into the cushions. Steve knelt before you as Bucky walked into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of water, handing it to you which you gladly drank. The two men waited patiently for you to finish drinking before Steve took your hand.

“What happened today, I can promise will never happen again.” Bucky took your other hand as he sat next to you on the couch, looking at you just as intently as Steve was.

“I know-”

“Please let me finish. What happened today, I don’t know how that little weasel managed to sneak his way into the facility or get as close to you as he was able to hurt you. But please know, you will never be in harm's way ever again. If another person so much as looks at you wrong, I promise their lives will be quickly ended. In fact, I’m slightly annoyed that Sam ended that fucker as quickly as he had, he deserved to feel everything I had planned for him” Steve spat with venom before taking a quick steadying breath before continuing.

“I love you, Bucky loves you and I know you love us. Nothing like this will happen again, can you forgive us?”

“Forgive you? There’s nothing to forgive, you couldn’t have helped what happened. I knew what loving you both would be like, the danger I wanted to put myself in and I’d never blame you, I love you and nothing can change that.” The truth spilt from your lips in a blur, every word the truth and you wish there was a way that you could prove this more but you found yourself completely exhausted.

You tried to smile at the men who seemed still just as tense but as you caught each of their eyes with your own, they seemed to relax, squeezing your hands before Steve smiled back. “How are you feeling now? Does your neck still hurt?”

“Slightly, but mostly when I touch it or move my head, otherwise I’m ok, still feeling a little fuzzy” you admitted.

Bucky nodded your head, stroking a hand now your cheek to cup your face tenderly. “Did he injure anywhere else?”

“No, nowhere else”.

“Do you mind if we check?” Steve asked seriously, a slight crease appearing between his brows.

“Yes, of course, but you have nothing to worry about”.

“I still just want to be sure”. Each man sat beside you, your head turning in each direction causing you to wince at the movement. “Look forward Doll, we’ve got you”.

You did as instructed, trying to peak from the corner of your eyes as Steve and Bucky moved with the same idea in mind, inspecting a hand each in their lap before kissing each of your fingers delicately when they deemed there was no injury. Next, they turned your arms, looking at every inch of skin and then leaving a trail of kisses as they moved along the limbs. The tenderness in their movements had you shivering in anticipation, especially as they reached the shoulders and their heavy gaze was felt on your burning face.

Steve leaned forward first, the touch of his lips against your cheeks causing your eyes to shut in calmness. Then as Bucky’s lips connected with your other cheek, did Steve lean in to kiss you deeply, all emotions from the day, the love, everything went into the kiss and it had you moaning and almost wanting to cry and all too quickly he was pulling back and Bucky was taking his place, the metal hand stroking a stray of hair behind your ear.

As Bucky too moved back, you made to follow but the brunette paused your movements, his chuckle deep in his chest, “we still need to check the rest of your body first, mama”.

Steve's fingers gripped the edge of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, leaving in just a simple lacy white bra that displayed your already perked nipples beneath. Their eyes, followed by their lips moved to your shoulders, causing a shiver to spark down your spine and goosebumps to litter your skin.

Steve moved back first as he reached the edge of your bra, “stand up for us baby”. He held up his hand for you to hold as you stood, turning you slightly so your front was facing Steve and your back was facing Bucky who was too now standing. Your breaths were coming out in short bursts as you tried to not look down as Steve knelt before you, hands resting on your hips, searching your body before leaning in a licking a single strip from your navel to the band of your bra.

Bucky was similarly doing the same except when he reached the lacy material, with one hand unclipped the clasps at the back, allowing for the material to slip from your shoulders, exposing your breasts to Steve who hungrily disposed of the material and seal his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. You let out an ungodly moan, back arching to be closer to Steve, hands lifting to hold onto his blonde hair but Bucky eased his own hands around you, tugging lightly on your wrists until they were in his grasp and behind your back.

Steve then moved to the other nipple, his hand squeezing the now wet and perky breast as his tongue teased the other, the sensations and pleasure pulsing to between your legs. Closing your eyes, you concentrated on his touch, the warmth and comfort that it gave you, as well as Bucky was still tenderly kissing up and down your spine, holding your hands together.

“Steve…” sighing as you spoke his name, feeling the need increasing in your cunt, thighs rubbing together to try and ease any sort of tension. With a wet pop, Steve unattached himself from your nipple, leaving it slightly swollen from his mouth's action and once more he continued his visual and physical journey down your body.

Helping you out of your jeans and underwear in one swift motion, dragging them down your legs, Bucky helping to keep you upright as the material was removed from each leg, both socks going with it until you were in the complete nude before them both.

Once again, Steve and Bucky worked in tandem with one another. As Steve lifted one leg up to cradle, he inspected your feet, calf and thigh, kissing and licking as he moved, and Bucky did the same with the leg you were trying to stand on. Both of them doing so was a difficult feat to achieve, especially as both reached your sensitive thighs that had your knee buckling therefore Bucky had to keep you upright but never faltered in his lips journey.

Your skin was now hot to the touch, especially as you could feel the cool air around you grazing over your damp upper thighs from where your desire had spread over and as Steve and Bucky reached the top of their individual thigh, you were already moaning for whatever their next moves were.

Even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel Bucky smiling against your arse cheek as he leaned in to peck each one quickly and then standing to his full height, standing so his clothed chest was against your naked back, arms trapped in the small space as both his arms encircled around your waist.

You were about to ask what he had planned but his actions proved the answer for this as he lifted you slightly, allowing your legs to drape over Steve’s shoulders and his face to delve between your legs, right to that spot you were so desperate for him to search. Instinctively your thighs clenched around his face as his thick tongue pushed between your folds, but he seemed to like being squeezed from the deep moan he purred.

Steve didn’t miss a single drip of liquid as he licked up and down your slit, slipping his tongue into your already clenching hole as far as he could reach before pulling out and moving up to your early awaiting clit that he greedily sucked into his warm mouth. You were completely overwhelmed by his wonderful mouth, a continuous stream of moans spilling from your mouth.

“Do you like that Doll? Do you like it when he fucks you with his tongue?” Bucky asked, his face had dropped so that his lips were ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Yes, sir” you quickly agreed, wishing that your arms were free so that you could run it through Steve’s blonde hair. Bucky chuckled at your response, kissing your temple and continuing to hold you up for Steve to continue pleasuring you.

As Steve’s tongue swirled around your clit at an increased pace, you could feel the sudden tightening in your abdomen, a sensation that was only increasing with each stroke of Steve’s. “I’m going to cum daddy”, you announced, not being able to hold back the nickname anymore, needing them to know just how far gone you truly were in the pleasure.

The mafia leader seemed to like it if the smile against your pussy was anything to go by and the next moment, you felt the tip of two of his fingers breach your cunt, stretching it out. Once again, the duo worked together, Bucky began whispering encouragements in your ear, “cum for us Doll, that’s it mama, cum all over his face”, and Steve began curling his fingers against that spot within that had you seeing stars as his mouth sucked harshly on your clit.

It only took another breath and the overwhelming sensation consumed your entire body, back arching, legs twitching and cunt convulsing and his fingers as you orgasmed hard. The pleasure was almost overwhelming as you tried to regain your normal breathing pattern.

“I want you both” you declared after a moment, wanting nothing more at that moment than to feel you all connected and to feel full of their cocks. Steve eased a few inches away from your cunt, looking up at you which you could now see as you glanced down with half-lidded eyes.

“I think we should take it easy today, we don’t want to put you under too much pressure today, you need to rest”.

You weren’t able to hold back to annoyed sigh, even if you had tried to. “Well you should have thought about that before checking me for marks, I want you both, please daddy”.

“Sassy Girl”, Bucky whispered against your cheek as he still held you up.

“Fine, but give it some time, we need to prep you first” Steve finally agreed but you were still being impatient.

“No, I want to feel it, I know I can take it, I just want to feel you both now and it was only this morning that you’d both fucked me anyway. I promise I can take it” you tried to reason with him, sticking out your lower lip for better effect as he looked up at you from his position still on his knees.

Steve and Bucky seemed to have a silent conversation with each other, something that you’d decided was taking way too long as you wiggled your hips, knocking slightly into Steve’s face. “Fine, you win baby” he finally relented, standing up and dropping your shaky legs to the floor.

Thankfully Bucky was still holding up most of your weight as you tried to hide your shit-eating grin as Steve began undressing, your eyes dropping to the throbbing cock, already dripping to be inside of you. Steve let out a deep chortle, your eyes looking up at his face to see his smile curved into a beautiful smirk as he held out his arms for you.

“Come here, sweetheart”, the mafia leader helped to grasp your hips, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around his waist, hands that were once trapped behind your back were now gripping the short hair at the nape of his neck.

Your lips were instantly connected with his, desperately moving and pressing against his soft ones, tongue even slipping between. You were utterly breathless and only pulled back to gasp as the tip of his cock pressed against your awaiting hole, pushing in slowly, making sure to give you time to adjust to his size.

“Fuck you feel so good” he praised in your ear, teeth then nibbling the soft lobe as you moaned and tried to refrain from dropping your head back as your neck still ached slightly.

From behind you, Bucky swiftly removed his clothes, moving his hand up and down his shaft a few times as he watched you hungrily from behind, waiting for the moment Steve glanced at him and gave a swift nod and then stepped forward so his chest was once more touching your back, one hand now resting on your hip and the other at the base of his cock.

“Remember Doll, if you want me to stop use the colour code, ok? We’ll take this nice and easy hot mama.”

Bucky's voice was calm as he talked you through his motions as he aimed his cock towards your asshole. Both of the mens body heats were helping your body to relax as you closed your eyes, leaning your head delicately against Steve’s shoulders, taking a few deep breaths and trying not to tense around Steve’s cock that was still inside of your cunt as Bucky began to penetrate you.

Without the fucking session from the morning, you wouldn’t have been able to take him without any prepping as both men were significantly sized. Even with the morning, the stretch of Bucky’s cock still had you squeezing your eyes tightly, trying to remain relaxed so that it wouldn’t hurt as inch after inch delved deeper until his full cock was twitching inside, matching Steve’s.

You almost felt beyond full, your muscles between your legs stretching to the max and you were thankful that they were so tentative of your feelings, letting you take your time to adjust, taking a few deep breaths before attempting to raise your hips slightly, indicating that you were ready.

Bucky and Steve then took complete control so that all you had to do was hold onto Steve and melt into their bodies as they began slowly rolling their hips, working together to drag across every single one of your nerves that had you screaming out in pleasure.

They began slowly, making sure to still not cause you any harm but before long you couldn’t take the reserved pace. “Please go faster, I need you to fuck me harder daddies, please!”

You sounded desperate and that’s because you were, wanting to feel the rough slaps of their hips, the way their fingers clenched harder into your skin as they started to lose control of their own restraints. You needed this thought, needing to forget about the day's events, about how close you were to losing them both.

The orgasms you were experiencing were enough to make you forget your own name, only being able to scream there as your cunt and asshole tightened and contracted almost consistently around them but they didn’t relent their movements.

Maybe you were lost in subspace, the surroundings have become fuzzy, or maybe you were just cock drunk but at some point, tears began to leak from the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t lose either of you” you sobbed, head tipping back against Bucky, not caring about the pain you experienced in your neck from the movement.

Both men stopped fucking you which was the exact opposite of what you wanted as you desperately moaned, “please don’t stop!”

They did as instructed, almost trying to move closer, kissing along your shoulder and face, catching any tears that had slipped out as they put as much emotion into their fucking as you were into your moaning.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, ever! I love you” Steve grunted as his hot cum coated your pussy, dripping out and onto the floor as he sloppy slowed down his thrusting.

Bucky continued to fuck you hard, your cunt already spasming through another orgasm, you weren't even sure what number it was anymore.

“I’m going to always protect you mama, don’t forget that” Bucky grunted, his balls tightening to his body as you were able to moan out ‘i love you’ as he found his own release, his cum dripping down and missing with Steve’s.

All three of you were breathing heavily, sweating glistening your naked bodies as you kept your eyes closed. Bucky and Steve had pulled out at one point but continued to hold you up between them.

“You with us baby?” Steve asked, kissing your forehead, not caring about the sweat.

“Daddy…” you mumbled, sounding half asleep.

Bucky smiled into your shoulder, kissing it once before taking a step back, “don’t worry Doll, we’re going to look after you” he promised, watching as Steve began to carry you up to the bedroom, planning to get you washed and into bed. Even if tomorrow the full extent of the day's events hits you, you knew that Steve and Bucky would be there for you no matter what.

#mafia au #steve rogers smut #stucky smut #steve rogers one shot #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes one shot #steve rogers fanfic #marvel smut #marvel one shot #stucky one shot #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #mine*

2K notes · View notes

caeheng1999 · 15 days

Text

Very h*rny headcanons on Genshin chars Prt 1

Tags: 18+ please

Chars: trousers

• It takes time and patience. Pantalone does not easily trust people especially when it comes to touching. Yeah, he is no new to casualty however if he likes you too much he won’t be pushing for sex. He wants everything to be perfect and eventual. At the moment he decides to take it on a physical level, he will let you know about it very subtly. He will take your hand, sit with you in a cozy corner and whisper “I’d like us to break one last wall and become more intimate. Would you like to give it a try?”

• He is a very difficult lover. He needs everything his way. Sometimes touch becomes not enough for him. Inside, he would beg for more of your attention. He feels wounded easily and he lets you know about it. He is a drama queen, even in bed. He edges between his own offence and worry for you. “Why were you silent? Am I not good enough?” or “Why did we only have one round? Did I exhaust you too much?” You need to try hard to satisfy him and make this right between you two.

• He’s aware of his anger issues thus he is worried he might unintentionally hurt you. However you like doing it when he is furious. You like when he turns into a beast in the bedroom, and you often encourage him to blow off some steam with you. It is both pleasurable for you and soothes him too.

“Pantalone, l was wondering if we could do it differently once.”

“Like what?”

“When you’re pissed off and you go rough on your customers or subordinates…”

“Want me to make a mess of you?”

And you will like it.

• He’s afraid of loss so the morning after your encounter when you leave the bed he will subtly touch your arm and say tenderly “Don’t go. Stay”.

• He prefers your face away. Don’t get me wrong, but seeing your messy expression, he might come too soon. We don’t want this.

• He loves it deep and slow. The idea of quick orgasm bores him, and he will go to any length in order to prevent you both from letting out that release too fast.

• Pantalone is weak for oral. One day he might just directly ask you “I was wondering how it feels specifically from you.” No, he won’t push you, but if you reject him he might think you do not trust him much. When you finally agree, he will receive it standing, every lick of your tongue is a blissful torture for him. Even though he bites back his moans, his expression displays it all. He will guide your head carefully, allowing you to bite him especially if this is your first time. He will be patient, for you. And once he feels that long-seek warmth in his stomach, he starts trembling slightly. Before shooting it, he lets out a really rude curse. And only after, he’s going to push your face slightly away, in order to not scare you too much.

• “You are not supposed to see me in this state” he says, as he already came, leaning over you. He grabs you in his arms and buries his face into your neck. He bites your neck roughly, cause if he doesn’t, he might be too loud. He is very excited. And when he comes with you (for you) it is always big loads. Maybe he finds you way too alluring?..

#pantalone #genshin impact #headcanon #genshin smut #pantalone x reader #genshin x reader

79 notes · View notes

barleyo · 8 days

Text

Loud.

Miles Quaritch X Fem! Recom! Reader (smut)

A/N: God, I've been gone for so long. You all already know the deal, I come and go as I please, I'm afraid! Thanks for sticking by me, though! Much love!

Tags: rushed, smut, fingering, somewhat dubcon, short fic, hunting, predator-prey themes

Word Count: 1k

"Alright, Miss Ain't-Gotta-Listen, how about I give you a five minute head start, and you'll find out exactly what all that yappin' gets you?"

"Colonel, please, I didn't mean to interrupt! I can shut up, see--?" She made a zipping sound and dragged her fingers over her mouth.

Miles had really had it with her this time. (Y/N) was always a chatty girl, which, when dealing with a tough, no-nonsense commanding officer, was no good. Miles was dealing out instructions for a 'hide-and-seek' of sorts for the recoms. They would hide and try to use their new Na'vi bodies to get used to Pandora's rough terrain, while avoiding the traps he had set up for them. During his explanation, however, the voice of his very annoying, yet secretly favorite, soldier nipped at his ears.

"Uh-uh, not this time, loudmouth. Everybody else, head back to your quarters. Thanks to this little squeaker here, you're all free for the day." Miles jabbed his thumb over in the girl's direction, giving his eyes a light roll.

The other soldiers snickered amongst themselves and barked out 'thank you' and 'good luck' quickly, before heading inside of the RDA facility.

The colonel stood expectantly, arms crossed over his blue, stripe covered chest.

"When I said I'd give you a five minute head start, I meant it. You better run as fast as your lil' legs'll take you." His hands gestured out into the depths of the forest circling the training yard. "Any minute now, sweetheart."

(Y/N) started to run, her tail snapping nervously as she looked back at him. He stood eerily still, and she honestly would have preferred if he chased her, rather than him continuing to stand so menacingly.

"That's it girl, keep running," he said, voice booming. He trailed off a bit, speaking through a tight, toothy smirk, "you'd better hope I don't find you."

Her legs felt like jelly already. The pure pressure of being chased was enough to make her crazy, and being crazy was not going to be helpful in this moment. She needed to take her time, to calm herself down, but that was the last thing on her mind. All she thought right then? 'Run.'

She ran until she couldn't think, until she couldn't breathe. Her knees started to buckle, but she pushed through it, not knowing what her colonel had planned for her if she was caught by him until--

Snap.

She felt her entire body get snatched up, a few feet off the ground. She hung by her ankle, slowly swinging upside down on a branch.

"Eek!"

She tried to curl upwards to yank the rope off of her ankle, but she could not reach it. She tried wriggling out, but that proved to be completely unhelpful. Just when she thought it couldn't get worse, the rough crunch of leaves under heavy boots sounded through the forest.

"I knew you wouldn't get very far, sugar," a sickly, antagonizing voice said. "If you were listening to me, you would've heard the whole traps in the forest spiel I had going on."

"Can you please cut me down, sir? I learned my lesson, alright? No more speaking out of turn, no more interrupting, I promise!"

(Y/N) tried to steady her swinging body to focus on the tall, blue figure in front of her, but the blood rushing to her head made that almost impossible.

"You know that's not how it works." Miles took a few steps forward, until the crotch of his cargos were directly in front of her upside down face. He squatted down, meeting her face to face. "Punishment breeds perfection."

Quickly, he tugged at the band of her pants, pulling them just enough to give himself access to her cunt. He sloppily stuck his hand in her hands, manhandling her most sensitive area with disregard for her current upside down state.

"H-hey, what's all that--?" She said, eyes traveling up as she felt the intrusion.

"Still a loudmouth, aren't you? You don't know when to quit."

Miles slipped his fingers under her panties and took the slickness accumulating on her and rubbed it between his fingers, chuckling softly.

"Dunno how you get this wet. Like a damn slip'n'slide." His fingers made firm strokes around her clit, applying enough pressure to make her hips already buck.

"This would be so much better," she said trying to sit her head up, "if you would cut me down from this tree."

"Good thing it's a punishment, yeah?" Miles took his spare hand and spread her thighs as far apart as he could while still allowing her to keep a semblance of balance, with only one ankle in the air. "If you wanna have some real fun, we'll talk later." With a soft smack to her pussy, he pulled her pants down further to her knees, giving himself room to place her head comfortably between her legs.

His rough, scratchy tongue felt like heaven and hell at the same time. The roughness of it lapped uncomfortably at her clit, but the sheer size and pressure of it left her chest heaving wildly.

She lazily threw her hand up to grip onto his belt loop, pulling him closer to her body. Her legs started to ache a bit, but she ignored it, instead trying to focus on the waves of pleasure that were being brought onto her.

"No, no don't stop," she whined, feeling his head pull away from her.

"Oh, please, you big baby," he sneered, forcing his hand back into her pants, this time using two of his fingers to push into her hole. They slipped in easily, now assisted by his saliva, and he used that to his advantage, scissoring her open a few times before pounding his digits into her.

It didn't take long for her to cum. She had been trailing the line ever since Miles unzipped her pants. It came as no surprise when she loudly groaned, squeezing her legs together and shaking a bit.

"Ah, fuck." He could feel her pulsing around his trapped fingers, her core coiling around him tightly before going slack enough for him to pull his fingers out.

She mumbled incoherently while he zipped her back up and looked down at her, giving her a sly smile.

"Gonna let me down?" She asked.

"Yeah, for now. When we get back though, I think I'll tie you up in other ways too."

#barleyxnighteye #smutfic #x reader #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch x y/n #x female reader #smut fanfiction #james cameron avatar

58 notes · View notes

zephyrstargame · 4 months

Text

well here's something I can do!

this is a little spin on an idea i've been seeing around that i think is wonderful... I personally, am not in the best financial place to be donating, but i can use my platform as a game developer to help out and do something cool at the same time :3

In exchange for donating esims to gaza, I'm gonna populate the world of Zephyr Star with your characters as NPCs! currently: OPEN!!

Here's the deal-- scurry on over to gazaesims.com to figure out how to buy and donate an esim to the people who need em-- any plan works for me, as long as you're gettin something out there!

then slip into my DMs (or anywhere else you can contact me directly) and show me a screenshot of the email, preferably with timestamps for proof that it's from after this post was posted... or really, any proof that you did do the thing-- also show me:

a reference image for what character you want me put in the game

what this character should say as an NPC (just a few lines at most) (optional; if you'd like i can just write some general dialogue instead)

how you would like to be credited in the in-game credits (ie what name i should put)

below the cut are some submission guidelines and extra notes, please also read that if you're interested :>

here are some general submission guidelines:

nothing too lewd, please!

or racist

or otherwise offensive

fandom ocs MIGHT be fine if they're Legally Distinct enough from the source material, but try not to get me sued here

In general, this game's world has No Humans, but that's not a strict requirement-- just a general suggestion

and keep in mind that characters with super intricate details might have to be simplified in order to work as pixel art

otherwise, anything works! furries, robots, sentient objects, your cat, whatever

and here's some notes, so you know what to expect:

i'll take anywhere between a few hours to a few days to finish, depends on how i'm feeling... either way, i'll tag you in a new post when i'm done!

the character will be done in small pixel art, with maybe some additional effects if i feel it works for the design

i will adjust the sprite size depending on the character-- an average sized character is drawn on a 32x32 canvas but if it's like a giant or really tall or something, i'd make it bigger so that the scale is accurate

everyone also gets a zoomed in headshot for the dialogue portrait

no secret bosses, shopkeepers, or other special story purpose for now, sorry! these are just some guys that stand around and say 1 or 2 lines as you go about your adventure

im putting the characters in various places at random, but if you want your guy to be in a certain type of location in-game let me know

this game is STILL in relatively early development-- but i do promise that each and every submission will be in there by the end! it might take yeaaaars for the full game to finally be out, but i'll be posting screenshots as I put em in the game so you know im not slacking around :>

and alongside the screenshot, i'll also post the sprites on their own if you'd like to save them for yourself

legal stuff uhhhhh im not good at legal stuff-- by participating, you are giving me permission to use your submitted character in the final game-- credit will be given in-game where you would expect to see it (the credits) and i will not claim ownership of any of your guys

(cartoon mafia boss voice) if at any point you want your character scrubbed out of the game, or you want anything changed, let me know in my DMs or anywhere else you can contact me and *click* *sinister laugh* we'll make it happen

no money goes to me ever, im not even gonna be the middlesnake between you and the esims-- i just think its less of a hassle to work this way -w-

did i get everything? i think that's everything... if i forgot something important sorry i'm a scatterbrain failgirl who has never done anything like this before im trying my best okay

may the rift be filled with your cool little guys! but more importantly, let's keep gaza connected! free palestine! 🍉

#free palestine #esims for gaza #game development #indiedev

125 notes · View notes

arcaneacolyte · 9 months

Text

Attention

Summary:

Phantom likes attention.

If anyone were to watch how he performs at Rituals, how he interacts with screaming fans, blowing kisses and moving his body in ways that make them scream all the louder, it’s obvious.

He loves to be watched. So much so, that he’s jealous when other Ghouls get attention. He might argue until he’s purple in the face—or at least more than his unglamored skin already is—but Swiss knows, Swiss sees.

Pairing: Swiss/Phantom (Aeon)

Words: 3,017

Contains: Praise Kink, Mean Swiss, Dom/Sub, Safewords (Stoplight system), Masturbation, Longing, Top Swiss, Bottom Phantom, Humiliation, Degradation, Autofellatio, Flexibility, Jealous Phantom, Attention Whore Phantom, Subspace, Dacryphilia, Teasing, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Size Kink, PWP, Polyghouls, Voyuerism, Mildly Dubious Consent

—————————

Hello hello! I’m back with another brain worm induced fic lol. So basically, I noticed during the Ritual I went to, that every time I tried to film Swiss, Phantom would try to walk in front of my phone or take over the shot himself, and I thought it was very funny, and apparently he was doing it at other Rituals too! Then I saw how bendy he was and how much he likes attention, and this idea spawned from there.

I will say, this does have a little bit of dubcon feelings to it, but I promise that Phantom is very much into this! I added the tag though just in case people might feel a little squicked about it!

I did not beta this, and also wrote it in a fugue state and finished it at 3 am, so please let me know if there are any glaring mistakes lol.

Read below the cut or on AO3 if you prefer that!

Phantom likes attention.

If anyone were to watch how he performs at Rituals, how he interacts with screaming fans, blowing kisses and moving his body in ways that make them scream all the louder, it’s obvious.

At first he thought it was simply Phantom trying to move from one place to another on the stage in front of him, but as more Rituals went by and Swiss watched the lithe Quintessence Ghoul more and more, he started to notice a trend.

Any time a fan would aim their phone towards Swiss, Phantom would come stomping past, or even step directly to the edge of the stage, effectively blocking off any view of the Multi-Ghoul. He’d make a silent fuss as he bent his body or flipped his guitar around in a spectacle that the little Bug seemed to deem far more interesting than Swiss of all Ghouls. Swiss was stuck up on a platform in the back. Phantom was out in front, free to move around as he wished. The fans should want to film him.

It was adorable really, how the taste of the limelight gets the new Bug all jealous. But Swiss has been with the band long enough to know that everyone has favorites, and no matter what Phantom does, that won’t stop the fans from wanting to film Swiss.

So the little Bug likes attention, huh? Swiss smiles as he shakes his hips in tempo with his tambourine.

He can do that.

He just has to wait for the opportune moment.

Thankfully it comes not long after Swiss makes his plan. Phantom is a younger Ghoul by the rest of the pack’s standards, and his want—no need—for attention is so obvious now that Swiss has keyed into it.

Always talking, asking questions, commenting on anything any other Ghoul or even Papa is doing. Staring with those big round lavender eyes as he asks for cuddles or for someone to help him with something.

So easy. So predictable.

He starts giving the Bug just the lightest bits of attention. Little bits that are sure to leave Phantom wanting more.

Casually asking what book he’s reading from across their respective bunks on the tour bus, watching those lavender eyes glow as Phantom explains the contents of the book Swiss couldn’t care less about. Giving Phantom little bites of his road snacks, something that’s normally off limits to any of the other Ghouls, offered like a secret. A gentle grip to the back of the Quintessence Ghoul’s neck and a soft, “Good job out there,” after a Ritual.

Swiss is a Multi Ghoul after all. He’s good at playing anyone like an instrument.

Swiss is careful not to give too much, just enough to leave the little Bug wanting and nothing more. It’s a delicate balance, almost a fun little game for Swiss to pass the time with. Thinking and planning on what he’s going to do next to make Phantom want his attention more and more.

He knows it’s working by the smell. The desperate little scent that’s downright delicious. The way that Phantom keeps trying to get closer to Swiss, sitting or laying down next to him with as little space between them as possible; trying to twine his tail with Swiss, as if it will change Swiss’ mind when he decides to finally move.

The stupidly cute thing about Phantom is that as much as he loves attention, he doesn’t like to use his words and ask for it. He’s stubborn that way, and Swiss intends to break him.

Finally, the opportunity comes when a hotel is booked after a venue, Copia too goddamn tired to want to even think about getting on the road again until tomorrow, and he passes out hotel keycards with a tired expression, reminding his Ghouls not to stay out too late or cause any irreparable damage.

He’s roomed with Rain, and he notices that Mountain is paired with Phantom.

It all comes together too easily, really. Far easier than it should have, but that just means that his plan has worked.

Half of the pack decides to go out for a few drinks before settling down, the rush of energy from the Ritual still singing in their blood, but Phantom—who normally joins them—claims he has a headache and says he’s going to turn in for the night. Swiss doesn’t believe it for a moment.

It’s as easy as anything to get Mountain to trade key cards with him, especially as he claims he’s going to head back to the hotel early, and wants to check on Phantom.

“Going to finally give him what he’s been asking for?” Mountain asks behind the lip of his beer bottle, and Swiss has to laugh.

“Please, Mount, I don’t kiss and tell,” he teases, slipping the keycard into his pocket.

“That’s a lie,” Mountain comments back, but says nothing else, nodding his head as a goodbye before Swiss turns to leave the bar.

It’s thankfully a short cab ride back to the hotel, and Swiss gives the tired woman at the front desk a tooth full smile as he passes towards the elevator. He wonders if she’ll be the one who will be getting noise complaints later on.

Finally, without much fanfare, he’s right outside the hotel room. Even without being inside, he can just faintly smell desire sharp desire radiating through the door. He stands to enjoy it for one long moment, before slipping the card into the lock.

The click of the door opening makes him smirk, and he can’t help the anticipation. All the work is finally going to pay off.

And oh, pay off it does.

The heady scent hits Swiss the same time the visual does, and he can’t help but moan over a filthy chuckle as he looks at the little Bug, his cock already starting to perk up in his jeans.

Legs bent nearly up to his ears as he desperately tugs at his cock, tail wrapped around his own thigh and moans muffled by cute little fangs digging into his plush lips. The slick sounds of him frantically jacking himself off nearly makes Swiss laugh again, but he simply watches for a long moment, endlessly entertained by the fact that Phantom is so wrapped up in himself, that he hasn’t even heard Swiss yet.

“Headache, huh?” He finally says before closing the door and dropping his human glamour. A fleeting thought crosses his mind about leaving it open, but no, he’s not about to share what he worked so hard for to any human who might walk by.

Phantom’s eyes shoot open, and he gasps sharply before trying to scramble himself together, like he wasn’t just desperately jacking himself off. “Swiss!” He shouts, breathless, pretty doe eyes so wide and already watery.

Oh, Swiss is going to ruin him.

He approaches a few steps, tail swaying like a predator toying his prey but ends up watching the little Bug from the archway into the room proper, crossing his arms and propping himself against the wall, a knowing smirk that he couldn’t stop if he tried stretching his lips.

“Came to check on you, little Bug.....” he says softly. “Seems like you’re feeling better?”

Phantom has a blanket thrown haphazardly thrown over his crotch, and he’s blushing so hard he’s nearly glowing. It’s cute, the little display, and Swiss aches to pull the blanket away, but he refrains, stays in his place and looks.

The Quintessence Ghoul starts to babble, “I—w-well....I was.....you—the Ritual?”

“Pent up?” Swiss supplies with an arch of his brow.

Phantom’s head drops and he looks away, digging a fang into his plush lip again. Swiss wonders if he can make Phantom pierce it hard enough to make it bleed.

“Interesting.....” Swiss says, finally pushing himself off the wall, moving into the room. He stops looking directly at the lithe Ghoul, pretending to contemplate his movements as he reaches the chair in the corner. “And here I was, thinking that you were hurting....”

“I—“ Phantom hesitates, as Swiss pulls the chair to settle it in front of the bed where Phantom sits, still flabbergasted, trying to explain himself.

It’s so cute.

Swiss wants to see him cry.

“But you’re hurting in another way, aren’t you, Bug?” Swiss asks, settling himself down in the chair, feigning nonchalance, inspecting his fingernails as he settles with one knee draped over another. It’s tight against his half hard cock, but he’ll deal with it for the moment.

A whimper is what he gets in return, and another smile stretches its way across the Multi Ghoul’s lips.

So easy.

“It’s a shame you didn’t ask.....” his tone is light, then darkens as he flicks his eyes to Phantom, who’s mouth is dropped open slightly as he stares at Swiss, almost as if he can’t believe that the Multi Ghoul is here. He’s almost surprised that Phantom hasn’t tried to demand that he leave, but the tent in the blanket covering the little Ghoul’s lap tells Swiss everything. “But you don’t like to ask for attention, do you?”

Phantom’s mouth gapes and closes like a goldfish for a few moments, trying to decide what to say, maybe try to defend himself, but Swiss isn’t interested.

He goes in for the kill.

He moves, leaning his elbows onto his knees and staring at Phantom with sharp red eyes. “You like to demand attention, don’t you, little Bug?” He growls. “You like to take it when it doesn’t belong to you....”

Phantom swallows sharply before whining again, working his hands into the blankets, squirming at the intense gaze. “I—“

“Stomping in front of fans when they’re trying to take pictures of me. When they’re trying to film me.” Swiss outright growls, and he doesn’t miss the way Phantom’s covered cock twitches at the words, even as he tries to come up with a silly, stupid excuse that Swiss doesn’t care about.

“I’m sorry Swiss, I just—“

“Well you have my attention now, Bug,” Swiss interrupts, before settling against the back of the chair again, his arms draped over the armrests. “What are you going to do with it?”

Phantom gapes at him again, like he honestly can’t believe what’s happening, before he licks his already slick lips, enough that it makes Swiss groan a little under his breath. Phantom chirps at the sound, and Swiss chuffs lowly back.

“Color, Bug.” Swiss says, and that seems to knock Phantom out of his surprised headspace.

“Green,” he says softly, still kneading nervously at the sheets.

Swiss quirks a brow. “Bug....”

“Green, Sir....” Phantom replies, his lithe little chest huffing with pants.

Eyeing him, Swiss says. “You tell me if that changes.”

“Yes, Sir.” Without any hesitation.

Swiss smiles. “Good boy.”

The whimper he gets in return makes the smile widen.

“Show me, Bug......let me see how desperate I got your cock.”

Phantom whines and scrambles to follow directions, and Swiss relaxes further into the chair, unabashedly reaching to knead at his cock through his jeans. What an easy thing Phantom is.

When said Ghoul pulls the blanket back and reveals his still twitching, wet cock, Swiss licks at his lips before cooing. “Aw, look at that.....so hard aren’t you?”

“So hard, Sir....” Phantom replies, his hands still shaking at his sides. His tail has wrapped around his middle, his torso lithe enough that he can wrap around it almost twice.

Swiss bets he could wrap his hands around it and almost have his fingers touch.

Oh, but what a good boy he is for not touching himself before Swiss says he can. He tells Phantom so, and it gets him a keening little moan.

“Sw-Swiss...”

“I know, Bug,” Swiss can’t help the condescension out of his tone. The wanting, pathetic little whines he’s plucking out of the Quintessence Ghoul are oh so yummy, and he wants to hear more.

“You just can’t help but be a slave to your cock, can you? So brainless and horny aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” replies Phantom dumbly after another thick swallow, and Swiss doesn’t reprimand him for the lack of ‘Sir’ due to how blissed out he already looks just by Swiss’ words alone.

So damn easy. What a power trip.

“Why don’t you show me how you were touching that little dick before I caught you?” Swiss says easily, already knowing the Quintessence Ghoul will do just as he asks.

Phantom shudders, but flashes those doe eyes and pouts those plump little lips at him as he shifts back against the pillows and the headboard, throwing his knees up so easily and smoothly it makes Swiss’ cock throb even as phantom mutters, “Not little...”

“Oh?” Swiss archs a brow. “I think it is....bet I could cover the whole thing with just one of my hands....”

And that gets the little Bug to start jerking again, whining and screwing his eyes shut at the slick sounds that start up again so very quickly. Swiss chuckles, and it makes Phantom squirm and moan, his tail shifting to wrap around his own thigh.

Swiss can’t help but be cruel. “Eyes on me, Bug.....you wanted my attention and if you squander it now I’ll fucking get up and leave....”

“No!” Phantom gasps, eyes shooting open. Swiss groans, his cock kicking as the smaller Ghoul opens his legs wider, pulls them back even more so Swiss can really see how he’s stripping his cock, hurtling himself towards an orgasm that the Multi Ghoul isn’t so sure that he wants to happen just yet. He’s practically folded himself in half now, and damn does Swiss want to tease the needy little thing.

“Look at yourself.....look how needy you are and how wet you’re making yourself.....so pathetic....” He sneers. “You could have had my hand or my mouth on your cock if you would have just asked... but now we’re here. Watch as you jerk yourself stupid, Phantom.”

Little Bug follows the order beautifully, tilting his head down to watch himself jerk, taking a moment every few strokes to smear more of the pre-cum that’s blurting out of his slit and smear it down his shaft for a smoother glide, little grunts and moans coming unbidden from his throat, like he can’t even help it.

He’s so pathetic and needy. It’s cute.

Swiss watches, rapt, as Phantom tugs himself closer and closer to orgasm, and when the little Ghoul’s tongue lolls out of his mouth, Swiss finally notices something that he can’t help but voice as his own cock spills pre-cum into his underwear and sends a shiver down his spine.

“Sathanas....looks like you’re flexible enough to suck your own cock if you wanted...”

It was meant to tease, meant to send Phantom closer and closer to the edge he’s so desperately gunning for, but Swiss’ eyes widen, caught off guard for the first time tonight when Phantom shifts, nearly locking his knees behind his ears and leaning down to lick filthy and wet over his cock slit, whining sharply before fluttering his eyes shut and bending himself just that little bit more to take the leaking head of his cock into his mouth.

“Fuck~” Swiss swears sharply, unable to stop himself from kneading hard at his clothed cock as he watches Phantom give himself a firm suck, sure by now that a wet spot is forming on the denim, but he’s not going to take his eyes off of Phantom to check, not in a million years.

The little Ghoul moans at the feeling of his own mouth, and while he doesn’t seem to be able to get more than the head into it, that doesn’t stop him from sucking and licking at it like the worlds most pornographic lollipop, keening and moaning and dripping saliva and pre-cum all over himself. One of his hands still tugs freely at the rest of his cock, and Swiss feels like his head is going to explode.

Fucking hell, the surprises his little Bug has.

As wonderful and mind-numbingly erotic the sight of Phantom desperately sucking at his own cock is, the noises coming out of the Quintessence Ghoul’s mouth are telling, and Swiss still doesn’t want to let him cum just yet, so despite himself, he barks out, “That’s enough, Phantom.”

He groans when Phantom doesn’t stop, too much into himself and his singleminded quest for cumming down his own throat.

But he can’t have that. So Swiss decides to take matters into his own hands. He stands suddenly, and kneels onto the bed, reaching to quickly thread his fingers into Phantom’s soft hair, pulling him back with a sharp movement. He growls at the little Ghoul’s whine at dislodging him so close to his orgasm, but it turns into a cruel smirk as Phantom blinks up at him with oh so wet eyes, lips swollen and face flushed dark from the exertion and pleasure. “Such a dirty little pathetic slut,” he taunts, gripping Phantom’s hair tighter in his fist just to see him wince and hear him whine, the sound high and feminine and absolutely delicious. “When the Hell did I say you could orgasm....?”

It seems to take a few moments for Phantom to register what he’s said, and Swiss revels isn’t he fact that he’s gotten the little Bug so deep so quickly. “B-but....” Phantom’s lip wobbles, and Swiss groans, the tears that have gathered at the edges of Phantom’s eyes finally streaming down his cheeks.

Swiss has a wonderfully terrible idea then, and he smiles, all fang as he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“Do it again Bug,” he croons, aiming the phone at the little Ghoul. “And I’ll make sure that everyone sees.”

Phantom can’t disobey if he tried.

#ghost bc #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss/phantom #swiss/aeon #swiss army ghoul #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #swiss x phantom #swiss x aeon #phantom x Swiss #aeon x Swiss #ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #my writing

232 notes · View notes

tcwmatchmakingau · 9 months

Text

Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo

A/N: This is a standalone sequel to “Everybody Hates Neyo,” (NSFW) by @dystopicjumpsuit (that’s me), and “The Blacklist,” by the brilliant @blueink-bluesoul, who also generously let me borrow the character of Daria Trace (THANK YOU!). You don’t need to read those fics to understand this one, but you should because they’re great and they provide more background. I converted the Reader-insert into an OC because to be frank, she’s a piece of work, and I didn’t want to project that onto my readers. That said, as always, feel free to insert yourself into the story if you prefer; I haven’t described the OC beyond being a woman with hair long enough to pull.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x the Admiral (formerly Fem!Reader)

Rating: M | 18+ | Minors DNI

Wordcount: 6.5K (I know)

Warnings and tags: toxic, obsessive behavior; SO MUCH SMUT; hatefucking; rough sex; oral sex; PIV; hair pulling; biting; sex under the influence of alcohol; Neyo and the Admiral being absolute menaces to society

Disclaimer: Let me just put on my Auntie DJ hat for a second. *ahem* This is a work of fiction intended for entertainment only. Please do not take this as a guide to romance or a healthy relationship. Neyo and the Bad-miral are flawed characters in a wildly problematic relationship with more red flags than the Fire Nation. Enjoy!

Matchmaker extraordinaire Daria Trace was not accustomed to failure. When she applied her considerable intellect to a problem, she did not stop until she formulated a solution. Which was why her now-99% matchmaking success rate galled her so intensely. In all her years of matchmaking, she had never encountered a client so stubbornly determined to thwart her efforts as Marshal Commander Neyo. After twelve failed matches—one of which involved a call from an infuriated woman demanding to know “why the kriff you thought I was a good match for that sociopath”—she had reluctantly conceded defeat.

The blacklisting of Commander Neyo from the Right to Love Matchmaking Service spread like wildfire through the GAR gossip channels. Most of the troopers thought it was hilarious; others insisted that he’d finally gotten what he deserved. In fact, the only people who seemed to have any sympathy for Neyo were Commanders Bacara (to be expected) and Fox (somewhat less expected). And when Fox reached out directly to Daria and asked her, as a personal favor, to give Neyo one more chance, she agreed. One more chance, and ONLY to give her an opportunity to get that track record back up to a perfect 100%.

She glared irritably at Neyo’s file and clicked her stylus three times, twirling it between her fingers. The man was impossible. It was no wonder he’d turned to RTL for help finding a partner; any woman in her right mind would run in the opposite direction the minute she looked into those blank, frigid eyes. She shuddered involuntarily. Shark’s eyes. Daria had made a few discreet inquiries after he’d first signed up for the service, just to make sure she wasn’t about to set up some unsuspecting match with a serial murderer. Without fail, every single answer said the same thing: he was an ice-cold sonofabitch, but he had a strict code of honor, and no, he wasn’t a serial murderer. Probably.

She sighed and tossed his file to the side, to be revisited some other day. He was her most difficult client, but by no means was he the only problematic match candidate, and she had a small stack of what Blizzard liked to call The Hopeless Casefiles waiting for her to review. Just thinking about Neyo’s case had given her the beginnings of a spectacular tension headache, and she flipped through the folders quickly, looking for one that was a little less challenging. As she skimmed the stacks of flimsi, her eyes came to rest on one name: Reeda Wai’yen.

Now there’s a thought.

Daria was sure that Reeda was a lovely woman, despite all evidence to the contrary. She was just very… intense. Like Neyo, she had chewed through several potential matches, and the most frequent word that appeared in her failed matches’ post-date surveys was “intimidating,” followed closely by “terrifying.” Daria had sniffed disdainfully that those particular matches simply couldn’t handle a strong woman; however, she had to admit that after several months of trying, she had not been able to find a perfect match for Reeda. She pulled Neyo’s file and laid it out next to Reeda’s. As she compared their backgrounds and preferences, she became more and more convinced. This could work. Given their personalities, it might well be the best possible outcome for society at large if they were both removed from the dating pool. And if it happened to close out her two most annoying files, well. That would just be the cherry on top of her perfect-track-record sundae.

A timid knock sounded on Reeda’s office door.

“Come,” she called shortly.

Her assistant, Lissi, poked her head into the room. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but you’ve received a comm from RTL Matchmaking.”

Reeda cursed. She was up to her ass in flimsiwork, and she was meeting with the Senate Task Force on Galactic Security in ten minutes. She did not have time for this now.

“Take care of it,” she ordered.

“Sir?” Lissi asked, her wide, startled eyes giving her a distinct resemblance to a terrified ash-rabbit.

“Just take care of it,” Reeda repeated, tamping down her irritation at being questioned. “You know my schedule better than I do. Set it up. Somewhere nice—somewhere in the Federal district. I don’t have time to deal with traffic.”

Lissi blinked, nonplussed. “Don’t you want to see who you matched with?”

“No time,” Reeda said, rising to gather her materials for the meeting. “Just put it on my calendar, and I’ll be there.”

Three nights later, Reeda sat in the restaurant at the top of the tower where her penthouse was located, waiting for her mystery date to arrive. She had to commend Lissi’s efficiency in choosing the venue; the only traffic she’d had to endure was at the lift. And it was a lovely restaurant, she had to admit, with stunning views of the Coruscant cityscape. She had only eaten here once since she’d bought the flat, usually opting to have food delivered to her office at the Republic Center for Military Operations as she worked late into the night.

She had resisted the urge to bring her datapad with her to the restaurant, knowing that if she did, she would inevitably get sucked into work, but now she wished she’d taken a moment to review the file from RTL. It wasn’t that she thought all clone troopers were interchangeable; far from it. She had worked closely with them during the war, had fought by their sides, and she had found them to be brave, competent, and loyal. They were also notoriously attractive, but she was a professional, and she was their superior officer, and she had never allowed that line to become blurred—except on one memorable and highly regrettable occasion.

She had had no time for a personal life during the war, but now that it was over—well, to be honest, she still had no time for a personal life. Which was exactly why she had reached out to RTL; it was the perfect solution. She didn’t enjoy solitude. She wanted companionship, and maybe even something more. But she needed a partner who would understand the demands of her career, and nobody understood the burden of duty better than the clones. Now that she had separated from the GAR and returned to her post in her home planet’s military defense force, the rules regarding fraternization no longer applied to her.

She hadn’t bothered to review the file because she’d learned from the previous several failed dates that a promising file was no indicator of compatibility. Still, as she waited for her date, who was now seven minutes late, she wished she’d at least checked to see if he had any identifying marks or tattoos that would make him easier to spot. To be fair, though, the few clones present in the restaurant were already paired up with other diners.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t intended to skip lunch, but she’d had back-to-back meetings with the joint chiefs of the Core Worlds Defense Alliance and the senate appropriations committee, and one thing led to another. The service droid had delivered a basket of fresh, hot bread rolls, which she had heroically resisted for the first six minutes past the scheduled start of the date, but now her resolve began to crumble. If her mystery date didn’t have the basic courtesy to be on time, by the Force, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if she ate all the bread before he arrived.

She buttered a roll and took a small bite. She couldn’t suppress the groan of relief at the buttery, yeasty goodness, and she quickly polished it off, then picked up another. She had just begun to butter her third role when the unmistakable voice of a clone spoke next to her.

“Admiral.”

She turned automatically, a smile just beginning to form on her lips, when she caught sight of a familiar set of numbers tattooed on a handsome, arrogant face.

“Oh, no,” she said with disgust. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Marshal Commander Neyo replied contemptuously. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“I’m on a date,” she snapped.

He looked pointedly at the empty chair across from her. “Looks like your date has a strong sense of self-preservation. Probably took one look at you and ran for their life.”

“He’s just a little late,” she said, tilting her jaw at a haughty angle to hide the flash of hurt at his words.

“That must kill you,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “I remember the time you made a Jedi padawan cry for being three minutes behind schedule.”

“There were barely tears. Do. Not. Sit,” she gritted out as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from her. He picked up one of the remaining bread rolls and took a large bite, and she sighed. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“It just so happens, I am also on a date,” he said, mumbling around the bite of bread.

“Oh?” she wrinkled her nose at his table manners. “And who’s the unlucky lady?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some civvie named Reeda.”

Her hand tightened dangerously around her butter knife. Neyo’s eyes dropped to the blade, and he smirked.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

“You could say that,” she said, grinding her jaw. “I’m Reeda.”

He choked on his bite of bread and wheezed a bit, pounding his chest to clear his airway. Alas, he survived.

“What?” he sputtered.

“You didn’t even bother to find out my first name after you were inside me?” she demanded. Her sharp tone attracted attention from the surrounding diners, and she heard a few quiet titters from the tables around her, but she was too irate to care.

“You didn’t even bother to find out who’d be eating dinner with you?” he retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t just as surprised as I am,” she snapped. “Didn’t you read the file?”

“I didn’t get a file, just a call.” He grunted. “Apparently, ‘beggars can’t be choosers,’ and I was lucky to get a match at all.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she mocked.

“Careful, Admiral. Don’t forget they matched you with me.”

“I would be insulted if it weren’t so obviously a mistake. I can’t say I’m impressed with their performance thus far.”

“For once, I agree with you,” he said. “You’d have to be a special kind of incompetent to think we were a good match.”

The service droid approached the table and asked, “May I take your order?”

“He’s not staying,” Reeda cut in.

“I’ll have the bantha filet,” Neyo replied, ignoring her. “Bloody.”

He turned to her and arched his brows. The droid waited expectantly.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she lied.

Neyo’s mouth twisted, and he huffed a breath through his nose. “The admiral will have the roast porg. And a bottle of Alderaanian red.”

The droid nodded and ambled away. Reeda glared at Neyo.

“I don’t eat meat, you presumptuous ass,” she said.

“Liar,” he said. “Unfortunately, the souls of the innocent weren’t on the menu, so I had to settle for your second-favorite meal.”

“At least you’re safe, since you obviously have no soul and you’re definitely not innocent,” she said in a pleasant tone.

Damn him for being right about the porg, though. How did he know?

The wine arrived, and he poured a generous glass for each of them. She didn’t toast; just downed half of it in a single swallow. Neyo sipped his and leaned back in his chair to observe her. His sleek, severe hair and the large tattoo on his cheek made him look menacing as hell, but it was his eyes that made brave men take a step back. She didn’t know how it was possible for his eyes to be that unnerving. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? What a waste of perfectly good Fett genes to have a personality like that.

“Did you stay just to torment me?” she asked when the silence stretched beyond the limits of her endurance.

“And because I heard the filet was good,” he said affably. “What are you even doing on Coruscant? I thought you’d scuttled back to whatever hellhole spawned you.”

“Kuat,” she bit out from between clenched teeth. “I was assigned to work as our military liaison on Coruscant.”

“Couldn’t stand having you back on the planet?” he derided. “I don’t blame them.”

“I need to use the fresher,” she said, flinging her napkin down on the table with excessive force. “Feel free to die while I’m gone.”

She strode purposefully through the restaurant, her face set in a steely mask. She knew she was drawing attention from other patrons, but if she sat at that table and listened to Neyo needle her for one more second, she was either going to stab him or burst into tears. She pushed through the refresher doors and went to the sink, washing her hands just to give herself something to do. The face that stared back at her from the mirror was Admiral Wai’yen, not Reeda. Stern. Unyielding. Unaffected.

She swallowed, and her face crumpled. Tears of rage stung her eyes, and she ruthlessly wiped them away with her clenched fist. A soft noise at the door startled her, and she whirled to face the intruder. Horror flooded her. It was Neyo, and he’d caught her crying in the ladies’ room.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing in here?” she demanded icily. “Get out.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then he locked the door. Stalking across the room, he cupped her jaw in his hands and tilted her face to get a closer look. She tried to pull away, to put her Admiral Wai’yen mask back in place, but then his thumb stroked softly next to her eye, wiping away the tear that had breached containment. She gasped involuntarily, and his lips collided with hers.

Reeda was so shocked that for a moment she went perfectly still, but then Neyo flicked his tongue across her lower lip, and her body remembered how to move. She thrust him away and stood back, glaring at him. His chest rose and fell quickly, and those cold eyes blazed with a dark and covetous fire. She raised a hand to her lips and felt the slickness left by his tongue. Something snapped inside her. She took two hasty steps forward, and she was in his arms again, his hands rough and dominating on her body as they consumed each other with a kiss that teetered on the edge of violence.

Lips, tongues, teeth crashed together. He clasped her tightly against his hard, unyielding body, and unbidden, the memory of him deep inside her came flooding back. He gripped her ass and ground his rapidly stiffening cock against her. Her reaction was electric. She rolled her hips, nearly climbing him in desperation. He dropped his mouth to her neck and kissed her once, roughly, and then to her breast, yanking aside her dress as he closed his teeth on her soft skin. He picked her up by the waist and set her on the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees between her thighs, rucking up her dress around her hips, and then his mouth was on her.

He didn’t even bother removing her underwear, as though he couldn’t wait another millisecond to taste her. He licked and sucked on her through the fabric, his mouth working frantically. Her body jolted and trembled at the effort of staying upright, and then his tongue snaked past the lace and dipped into her, smooth and hot and wet. He let out a vicious growl and grabbed her hips, settling her thighs over his shoulders, and then he pulled her off the sink and thrust her against his face as his tongue speared over and over into her cunt. She yelped and scrambled to brace herself with her hands, her arms shaking with exertion.

She couldn’t come like this, but kriff, it was hot to feel Neyo throw her around with such ease, like she was his own personal toy. How many nights had she fucked herself to sleep to the memory of their first encounter? The way he’d lifted her bodily off the ground and thrust into her, supporting them both with those powerful thighs—it played on a loop in her head for months, long after the bite marks and bruises had faded.

His tongue slid out of her cunt and swirled around her clit, and her legs spasmed around his head. She couldn’t come like this. Could she? All the muscles in her body began to tense, and her pelvis began to rock rhythmically against his face. Shit, I’m going to come. No sooner had the thought formed than Neyo dropped her back onto the sink and pulled away from her.

“No!” she wailed. “You bastard, I was right there!”

He shot to his feet. “Shut. Up,” he bit out, and kissed her punishingly hard. “Do you want the whole Federal District to know what we’re doing?”

He pulled her head back to expose her throat, and he scraped his teeth across her delicate skin. She felt his other hand fumbling in between them. Within seconds, his cock was free and thrusting against the scrap of lace that still covered her. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, determined to find the stimulation that she needed to reach completion.

“Get inside me,” she hissed.

“You aren’t calling the shots any more, Admiral,” he growled. “You don’t get to give commands.”

“I hate you,” she breathed.

“And yet here you are, begging for my cock,” he said coldly.

“I do not beg,” she said. “Ever.”

He released her hair and pried her legs away from himself, then took a step back. “You get nothing until you admit that you want me. I’ve waited a long time for this. I can keep waiting.”

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, sliding off the sink to stand in front of him.

“It means you give me what I want, or I walk out that door right now and you can figure your own shit out.”

Was this his twisted kriffing way of asking for consent? Because she was pretty sure she’d covered that when she all but ordered him to fuck her.

“Fine,” she said in a low voice. “I…” She nearly choked on the words, and Neyo’s intent gaze pinned her in place. “I want you.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a bruising kiss, then spun her around and bent her over the sink. He pulled up her dress, yanked down her panties, and thrust into her. She muffled a whimper at the intrusion and squeezed her eyes shut as she adjusted to the stretch. He wrapped his hands around her hair and jerked her head up.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch,” he ordered.

She complied, shocked when she saw her own ravaged face in the mirror as Neyo pounded into her from behind. Her makeup was smeared, her hair was a wreck, her eyes were dilated with lust, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her skin. She flicked her gaze to stare at Neyo. His face was twisted into a scowl, and if she had any sense at all, she would have been frightened, but she was in too deep to care. His hard eyes met hers in the mirror, and his jaw tightened.

He released her hair and slid his arm around her body, between her breasts, to wrap around her throat, and he lifted her upright so he could whisper in her ear.

“Do you know what you did to me?” His voice was hoarse and anguished. “Every time I kissed someone, all I could taste was you. Every time I hooked up, all I could remember was this perfect fucking pussy.”

He pounded into her with bruising intensity, furiously working her clit with his free hand. Her head began to throb. This was so wrong. He couldn’t be saying what she thought she was hearing. She was confused from the lack of blood flowing to her brain.

“I got matched twelve different times, and not one of them was right, because not one of them was you,” he snarled. “You cursed me. You haunt me.”

The world began to darken around the edges as her eyes drifted closed, and he released her throat and forced her head to the side so she faced him.

“Look at me when you fucking come,” he ordered.

She gasped, and he clamped his hand down over her mouth to muffle her scream as he wrenched an orgasm from her body. He didn’t let up, chasing after her at a frenzied pace that rocked her entire body as she sobbed into his hand.

“Inside?” he asked roughly.

She nodded and whimpered as tears blurred her vision and spilled down her cheeks. He came with two brutal thrusts, and she felt the hot rush of his release deep inside. He shuddered against her hair as his cock softened and slipped out of her. At last, he loosened his grip and turned her to face him as he leaned against the wall for support. He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair as she rested her head against him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she sighed as she licked his neck, unable to resist the temptation of tasting his skin.

“I’m sure there’s an official list in my GAR file,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Reeda cleaned up quickly while Neyo went back to their table so they wouldn’t be spotted leaving the refresher together. Her hairstyle was destroyed, so she hastily repinned it as well as she could, and then wiped off the mascara that smudged heavily beneath her eyes. A quick reapplication of lipstick, and she almost looked presentable—with the minor exception of her missing panties, which Neyo had silently retrieved from the refresher floor and tucked into his pocket while maintaining strong eye contact.

When she returned to the dining room, Neyo waylaid her with a ferocious expression. Force, what is he scugged about now?

“We’re leaving,” he said, taking her by the wrist and pulling her toward the exit. A few quiet murmurs whispered around the room as he dragged her behind him.

“What?” she asked, tugging her wrist to no avail. “Why?”

“The karking droid gave away our table,” he said.

“My deepest apologies, Admiral,” the droid said. “We can locate another table if you would care to wait.”

Reeda assessed the room quickly. Every table was occupied, and none of the diners were anywhere close to being ready to leave. Moreover, at least half of the customers were eyeing her and Neyo with expressions ranging from amusement to overt curiosity.

“No,” she said. “Have the food delivered to my flat.”

“Right away, sir,” the droid replied, waddling off to relay the order to the kitchen.

Neyo looked at her inquisitively. “Your flat?”

“I live in this building,” she said. “Come with me.”

She was keenly aware of the many sets of eyes that tracked their hasty exit, but before long, she led Neyo into the private, secure lift that opened directly into her penthouse. He stood silently next to her on the trip up, watching her with an inscrutable gaze. She tried not to give herself an opportunity to second-guess her decision to let him into her home. Strange, she thought, how this seemed more intimate than allowing him inside her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed another person into her home.

The lift doors opened, and he followed her into the flat, pausing long enough to remove their shoes, then looking around curiously.

“Lived here long?”

“A few months,” she said. “I bought it when I found out I’d be stationed on Coruscant long-term.”

“It’s nice,” he said. “Very… clean.”

She laughed. “You mean sterile. I haven’t had time to do much decorating. I’m hardly here except to sleep, anyway.”

He nodded. “I thought I’d have more time for hobbies after the war ended, but now it’s just nonstop—”

“Red tape and committees,” she finished with a sympathetic grimace. He shot her a wry grin. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile before, and it did uncomfortable things to her brain. She tried not to think about it, instead asking, “What kind of hobbies? Aside from plotting my slow death, obviously.”

“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. “Torturing small, adorable creatures; sharpening my vibroblade collection; collecting stamps; that sort of thing.”

She blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He regarded her steadily for a moment, eyes unreadable as ever. “You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

She was taken aback. “I—”

Her reply was cut off by the chime of the door. The food had arrived, thank the Force, which gave her a moment to stop herself from blurting out her immediate thought: You’ve never given me any reason to think anything else.

Neyo was a competent soldier—brilliant, in fact. There was no question that he had one of the finest tactical and strategic minds in the GAR. But as a person? From the moment they’d met, he’d been antagonistic, sardonic, cold. He’d challenged her authority and provoked her in meetings. He’d only treated her with the barest semblance of civility in public, and in private—Well. They both knew how things went when they were alone.

The service droid rolled a cart into the dining room and began setting up the meal.

“Can I get you a drink?” she offered Neyo. “I don’t have any Alderaanian red, but I do have Cheedoan whiskey.”

“The good stuff,” he replied. “I’ll have a glass. Thanks.”

The droid finished setting up and shuffled out the front door as Reeda poured two generous glasses of whiskey at the wet bar.

“Ice?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, and when she turned around, she nearly dropped the glasses in surprise to find him standing close behind her. He locked his eyes on hers and never looked away as he took one of the glasses and drained it in a single swallow, then set it down with a decisive click on the counter. Her heart began to pound as he loomed over her. He traced his fingers from her elbow up to her wrist, and then he wrapped his hand around hers and raised her glass to her lips.

The whiskey burned a fiery path across her tongue and down her throat. A few droplets escaped and splashed coldly on her chest. Neyo didn’t let up until she emptied the glass, and when she was done, he leaned down and sucked the liquor off her skin. His hands dropped to her hips and slid up her back as he located the zipper of her dress and dragged it down excruciatingly slowly, and all the while, his mouth moved across her skin. He slipped the straps down over her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor, and then he kissed a path along the lacy edge of her bra.

“Thanks for the matched set,” he said, unhooking it and pulling it off.

“Those were expensive, asshole,” she said unsteadily.

He didn’t reply, but she knew she was never going to see that bra again. He kissed his way down her breast and captured her nipple in his mouth, abrading it lightly with his teeth. She jolted, and the empty glass slipped from her hand and smashed against the hard tiles of the floor.

Neyo barely responded to the sound of shattering crystal. Reeda froze, keenly aware that the smallest movement could result in a bloody footful of glass. She stood utterly, helplessly still as he continued to explore her body with his teeth and lips and hands and tongue. He was thorough in his attentions, and something about being entirely at his mercy was wildly arousing. Her head spun as the whiskey began to work its insidious way through her bloodstream.

“I missed this perfume. What is it?” he murmured against the soft skin of her abdomen.

“I don’t wear any,” she said.

He nuzzled against her as though he could transfer her scent to his own skin. Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her out of the room, completely disregarding the risk to himself. But instead of dropping her as soon as they were clear of the broken glass as she expected, he asked, “Bedroom?”

“Left,” she said, and he strode across the flat and kicked open the door, to her intense irritation. “You gonna pay for the broken doorknob?”

He didn’t reply, just tossed her onto the bed and pounced on her as soon as she landed. He slid in between her thighs and gripped her hard as his mouth descended on hers, kissing her as though he were trying to devour her soul. He was still fully clothed, and she scrambled to pull off his shirt. He was completely unhelpful, too engrossed in her taste. She raked her nails across his skin as she yanked his shirt over his head, and he seized her lip in his teeth in revenge.

At last, the barrier of his shirt was gone, and she writhed against him, desperate to feel as much of his warm, smooth skin against her as possible. They clashed together, sinking nails and teeth into each other. At some point, Neyo got his trousers down enough to free his cock, and he shoved into her. His belt chafed harshly on her delicate skin as she wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. The sounds they made were unholy, primal: growls and grunts and screams of pain and ecstasy as they tore into each other with all the aggression that they had built over the years.

She pulled his hair; he clawed her back. She slapped his face; he bit her shoulder. She snarled that she loathed him; he interlaced his fingers with hers and whispered how beautiful she was when she came apart beneath him. She thrust him away and kicked him across the bed; he pinned her down and fucked her until she sobbed and begged for more. At some point, she tasted blood, and she didn’t know or care whose it was. And when at last she lost count of how many times he’d brought her to orgasm, he curled his body around hers and traced his thumb softly over her features as she drifted to sleep.

“If I die while I’m inside you, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to heaven,” he whispered.

“Force, you say some kriffed up shit,” she grumbled.

Reeda awakened slowly, aware of something blissfully warm and soothing moving across her skin. She cracked her eyes open. Neyo was lying on top of her, dragging his tongue lazily over her body. He roamed along her curves, and it wasn’t until he paused at her bruised wrist that she realized what he was doing.

“Are you licking my wounds?” she breathed.

He didn’t answer, but his eyes met hers with an intensity that bordered on madness. Gods, everything about this was so fucked up, and she didn’t dare examine too closely why she found it so incredibly arousing. He moved slowly, meticulously, his tongue gliding softly over every centimeter of her body, until she felt like a bomb, ready to detonate at the slightest spark. She came before he ever reached her cunt, and again as he rocked gently inside her, his lips soft against her mouth, silent tears spilling from the corners of her eyes to course down her temples.

After, he guided her into the shower, and when her legs gave out, he held her upright as the hot water washed over them. Once he’d massaged her entire body with his strong, soapy hands, he dried her off and laid her back on the bed while he spread bacta across the damage he’d inflicted. It was disorienting to be cared for so thoroughly by the man who’d spent the better part of four years making her life hell. He didn’t speak, and she didn’t know what to say, so in the end, she simply watched him in silence.

When he finished with the bacta, he retrieved their dinner from the dining room. The food had long since gone cold, but after hours of intense physical activity, they were famished, and they ate it anyway, sharing bites and sipping whiskey straight from the decanter. Neyo sat with his back against the headboard, his long, strong legs bracketing Reeda as she leaned back against his broad chest.

“How did you know porg was my favorite?” she asked.

He shrugged. “They’re tiny, cute, and innocent. I just assumed you would enjoy extinguishing the life from them and consuming their remains.”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him. “Is that why you order your meat rare? Because it’s the next best thing to drinking straight from the source?”

“Finally, someone who understands,” he smirked. “Truthfully, I overheard you tell Admiral Coburn that porg was your favorite during a banquet at the strategy conference at Valor.”

She turned to stare up at him. “Neyo, that was two years ago. That was before we ever…”

“I know,” he said, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply.

“Stalker,” she murmured.

He dropped his mouth to her neck, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder as his lips glided across her skin.

“What does it say about you that you like it?” he whispered when he reached her ear.

He pulled her close, positioning himself between her and the bedroom door. From the proprietary way he held her, she knew it was a deliberate choice; any threat that came through that door would have to go through him before it got to her, and she had a feeling that there weren’t many beings in the galaxy that were brave or foolish enough to try.

Reeda jerked awake to a furious pounding at the front door. Neyo was already halfway out of the bedroom, stark naked and armed with a steak knife from their midnight dinner.

“Wait here,” he ordered, his voice hard and flat.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled on a bathrobe and grabbed a blaster from her nightstand. Neyo glared at her when she joined him, but didn’t bother yelling at her.

“Coruscant guard! Open up,” a modulated voice shouted harshly from outside the door.

Neyo glanced questioningly at her, and she shrugged, hiding the blaster behind her robe. He stepped out of view of the door, and she opened it to find none other than Marshal Commander Fox, flanked by two Corrie ARC troopers.

“Commander,” she greeted him, not bothering to conceal the surprise in her voice.

“Good to see you’re in one piece, Admiral,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, baffled.

“We received multiple calls about a disturbance at your address. Are you alone?”

Reeda felt a hot rush of blood wash over her face and neck. “I fail to see how that is any business of yours, Commander.”

“Sorry, sir, but it’s my duty to—” He stopped abruptly, and his visor shifted to a point behind her.

“Isn’t this a little below your pay grade, Fox?” Neyo drawled close behind Reeda.

Fox’s visor turned back to Reeda, then to Neyo, and then back to Reeda again. The two ARC troopers appeared to be fascinated by the walls on either side of the front door.

At last, Fox spoke. “I don’t send shinies to wake up admirals.”

Neyo’s hand slid possessively around the front of Reeda’s abdomen, and he pulled her against his nude body. Something large and solid prodded against her backside. Dank farrik, is he turned on right now? Sick bastard.

“Thank you for your concern,” she told Fox, “but everything is under control.”

“So I see,” Fox replied. “Still, you’ll need to keep the noise level down, or I’ll have no choice but to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

Neyo reached forward silently and shut the door in Fox’s face, then he spun Reeda around, picked her up over his shoulder, and carried her back to the bedroom. The last thing Fox heard was the unmistakable sound of Neyo’s hand slapping her ass as Reeda shrieked with indignant laughter.

Republic Military HQ buzzed quietly with speculation the next morning when not one, but two of the most senior command staff called in sick for the first time in either of their careers. Rumors swirled: some were convinced a secret bioweapon had been released by Separatist holdouts; others maintained that the stress of dealing with politicians was beginning to take a toll; still others claimed that it was a coverup and that the marshal commander and the admiral had been taken hostage by pirates. It was whispered that Commander Fox had a particularly haunted expression that morning, and two of the Coruscant Guard ARC Troopers had contacted the legal department to update their wills. In the midst of all this, the beleaguered Lissi received a brusque order to inform RTL Matchmaking that the admiral no longer required their services.

Daria drained her third iced caf of the morning as she flicked through her holomessages. Buried amidst the intake forms and meeting invitations was an abrupt-bordering-on-rude note from Marshal Commander Neyo ordering her to close his file.

“Why do you look like the tooka that got the blue milk?” her fellow matchmaker Tarsi Renda asked as she passed Daria in the corridor.

“Oh, no reason,” Daria smiled. “The galaxy is back to normal, that’s all—and my track record is once again perfect.”

---

DJ’s masterlist | Join my tag list here

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #91st Mobile Reconnaissance Corps #commander neyo #neyo x the admiral #commander neyo x ofc #neyo x ofc #neyo x the bad-miral

133 notes · View notes

piningprecussionist · 5 months

Note

Howdy, Pine! Can we get three headcanons for all your favorite Scott Pilgrim characters? :-)

Oh absolutely!!!! Lemme think for a minute...

((FUTURE FUTURE ME: I LITERALLY JUST PROCESSED YOU SAID THREE HEADCANONS IM SO SORRY--- YOU WILL UNDERSTAND 😭))

Okay I had a whole thing here, but we're gonna try this again but slightly more Hinged-- forcing myself to format so things don't get out of hand again. I will HAPPILY elaborate, though!!

((Whoop this is future me. This post is going to be so long if I dont do this, so I'm going to put this all under the cut! I'll try to remember to come back up here with the characters I talk about- alternative, should I not do that, maybe check the tags! I'll try to only tag the people I'm directly talking about))

KIM PINE

sexuality: very likely canonically Bi, I am a very big fan of her being a comp. het. lesbian, though (I get this both from my read of the comics/her character and just me Injecting myself into my favorite characters ✌️)

pronouns: she/her usually, but I think she'd be very open and vibe with they/them (me injecting myself again, but also she's just chill like that. I think she prefers if strangers use they/them for her, and her friends or partners use she/her. I'm undecided if she prefers her partners call her their girlfriend or their partner, though.)

Characters I think she has feelings for: RAMONA FLOWERS, Lisa Miller, (MAYBE Scott Pilgrim, still)

Elaboration on that:

I honestly think I can just. Point at some comic panels for Ramona. And the goat thing again. They make me Unhinged that's how canon that is.

Lisa!!! My beloved!!! I think she had a tiny crush on her in high school and had no idea that it was a crush until way later in life- maybe shortly after seeing her again, actually. But like. She's so obviously smiley and happy when she's around, I really can't help but read it that way! She, at the very least, gets an extreme mood boost in her presence, so she really likes having her around.

Scott Pilgrim.... *scrubbing at my face* okay. Okay. So, I have a couple different reads on her feelings for Scott, they're kind of complicated for me to dismantle. Especially since I haven't started my reread of book 6 (I've been giving my thumbs a break, which I am currently prolonging but I have been DYING for someone to ask me to talk about this series.) I'm going to go with my more canon read and leave it at that I think, because it's already becoming this text wall.

Scott was really important to her, I think. She's this aloof, sullen, bitchy girl and she knows it- and then this dorky idiot walks into her life and they really hit it off! They date, they have really sweet, private moments together- it's everything to her. It's someone loving her in spite of the hard shell she initially puts out, and managing to reach her soft, easily bruised heart in ways no one had before. But then he left so abruptly, and that heart was crushed under the weight of her own ribcage. I think she carried that hurt with her every day from that point- I don't imagine her having a particularly roaring love life after that. I think she kept that hurt bottled, and it made any relationships she DID attempt fall apart. It's a wound she's been nursing for way, way too long, and I think she knows that- that's why she wants so badly to forget about it. But then she goes to Toronto and runs into Scott again at the lowest point in his life, and she can't get herself to step away, because this is the only person who ever claimed to love her in a way she felt. I think her decision to stay was sort of... detrimental to her moving on. If she'd detatched herself and stepped back, maybe she could have moved on eventually- she could have worked on herself, or maybe lucked out and found someone who could get through those walls without a sledgehammer, and she would have been better for it. But that's not what happens. She stayed, and I think the longer she stayed the harder it became to keep herself completely shielding from him, because he's still that same goofy guy at his core- he's just a bit worse than she remembered him being. But damn near everything he does throughout the comics just continues to crush her until she HAS to leave- he can apologize, and she can accept it for the version of him she loved, but he's not enough to convince her to stay anymore. I'm going to cut my canon analysis there until I reread their next scene, rather than just continuing incase my thoughts have slightly changed, but like... man... they hurt me in a very unique way. If it was anyone other than Scott, it'd be tragic. (Maybe it still is, maybe that's the Kim Bitterness talking)

For a brief touch on my less canon take, with Kim being a lesbian: I think Scott would have been better placed in her life as a best friend than a partner, but when you're young, and honestly even when you're not all that young, emotional distinction like that can be so, so confusing. So all of the hurt remains very genuine, because she does love him, just not the way she thought she did.

((Because I do love the trans!fem Scott HC as well, I will say. I feel like it would be really, really funny for Kim to realize she's into women and be like "wow sure dodged round two of the Scott Pilgrim bullet" and then one day Scott shows up having started her transition and is like "Oh hey Kimmy!! I'm a lesbian AND a girl, like you now!!!" And Kim just. Crushes her drink or something in her hand like "oh no... oh no she's attractive again... FUCK FUCK FUCK." Obviously a lot more nuanced than that, though. I should probably clarify that I started answering this ask almost IMMEDIATELY after waking up and also BEFORE I've taken more pain meds. If this post has been or starts to become very scattered again, that's why lol.))

Bonus consideration: Hollie. I can dig her having a crush on Hollie, but I feel like it faded a little living with her, and then shattered entirely after the Jason Kim situation. Even an overwhelming attraction to women ain't savin that one, chief. That's just too severe a betrayal.

The Knives Situation: Oh Boy. So in the original answer for this I had a whole thing done up, lemme try to condense it. Basically, I think Kim woke up the next morning HORRIFIED by what she'd done. Like, dry heaving in the bathroom horrified. And this likely really hurt Knives's feelings, should she see! Which Kim would feel horrible about. I'm undecided on if she just runs from the situation before Knives can wake up, or if they have a sort of agrument/one-sided rant on Kim's part afterward where she just really tries to hammer home for Knives how not okay it was for them to do that- for HER to do that, given their ages and inherent power imbalance. In the event that this discussion happens, Knives absorbed none of it, and probably leaves that conversation a little wounded. I think it would proceed to play back in her mind when she and Stephen are talking at one of Julie's parties later on, though, and she'd probably approach Kim after that to thank her for being a reasonable adult about that, unlike how some of her friends had been. Once that understanding is reached, I think they could be good friends, although Kim probably teases her for how she started to dress like her after they first met.

Silly little things: If anyone's familiar with Night in the Woods, do you know the part where Mae's like "that's not drums... that's a computer..."? I feel like that has Kim energy. To me.

Also I think Kim sucks at Rockband- I know that releases like, way afterward or something so far as comic timeline goes, but bare with me, okay? It's my silly little headcanons! Anyway, she'd suck really, really bad on the drums, since so far as I can recall, they don't REALLY correspond with the music. If her friends force her to play, she demands either the mic or the bass, because "fuck you Scott, you try playing their stupid fucking drums." He proceeds to play flawlessly, much to her chagrin. She fairs better on the bass, but only a bit better than the drums, since her fingers aren't quite used to the movements.

Kim didn't think she liked cats for a while, mostly because she was only ever around them fleetingly, and generally in the homes of people who should have been cleaning their litter boxes more regularly. After hanging around Ramona's house more, though, she discovers she really love them! She feels a sort of kinship watching how they actually behave, and I think Gideon ends up warming to Kim very quickly, which probably helps with the very quick turnaround on her opinion. I think it'd be funny if sometimes, when Kim's over, Scott will try to beckon Gideon over to him for cuddles or affection, and the cat will just. Stare at him entirely unimpressed before jumping up into Kim's lap with exaggerated purring and chin rubbing before curling up for a "nap." Kim was in awe the first time this happened, and Ramona finds it ceaselessly amusing every time it happens. ((Funny additonal scenario: once after this happened Scott was whining to Ramona, who was coming to join them on the couch, looking generally very sad/cute/pathetic, and overcome with a sort of playful evil, Ramona proceeded to sit by and cuddle up to Kim as well. Kim immediately froze up and went bright red and wide eyed, Scott's jaw probably dropped before he dove into a theatrical, exaggerated spewl about the betrayal of it all, and Ramona just got to blissfully enjoy Kim cuddles while giggling at both of their reactions and petting Gideon.))

Conversely, I don't know how Kim feels about dogs. Like, I don't think she hates them or anything like that, but maybe they fill her with a sense of pity, for their associations with unwavering loyalty. Something about that specifically runs too close to things she considers about herself, at times, maybe. Idk, just kinda spit ballin here.

I think she does like rats! And mice. Idk. They're cute little guys and I like them, let me have this--

Oh man... just Kim's section is so long. And I have other characters to get to,,, buckle up I guess--- I mean, I did start with My Girl, so maybe the others will be shorter?

((This is future future me again... this is where I actually went back and processed the ask properly :') I have no words to describe my current emotional state beyond that I am trying really hard not to burst into a little fit of laughter at myself and wake my roommate--))

Three! Three headcanons!! I can do this (restraintrestraintrestraint)

Okay! Let's try being Normal About Media- and just as a note, they aren't really in any particular order, beyond Kim being the first because she IS legitimately my favorite, I think. Idk she's very Me.

Ramona Flowers

1. She doesn't really do labels, for things like her idenity; she does think pride flags are pretty, though. Scott got her a bi flag once and she decided to keep it and hang it in her room for this exact reason, though she did explain to him that she doesn't really consider herself anything but herself- Ramona Flowers. He's very understanding about that, although a little confused in the typical Scott manner! They eventually come around to just considering it being his flag, when he comes to terms with himself (yeah, spoilers, I HC him as bi)

2. Her hair actually does have magic properties to it that prevent it from getting absolutely butchered by all the bleaching she does- she doesn't know how or why, though. Maybe it's less magic and more to do with the supplies themselves? Unlike Scott, she's not as meticulous when it comes to reading the status effect labels on things she uses or consumes.

3. Of her former partners, I think she does have genuine lingering feelings for Roxie. So far as the comics/movie go, she simply repressed the hell out of them and plays the Deny Deny Deny! game, but so far as the show goes, I think she's come to terms with the fact that she still loves her, but horrifically fumbled her- she doesn't want to hurt Roxie like that again, so she's unlikely to ever try things again between them, I think. Not unless Roxie was the initiator, and even then, it'd take some coaxing.

Bonus 4. She absolutely has feelings for Kim. I feel like maybe further into their relationship she'd 100% ask Scott like "hey... you know your really hot friend Kim?" and proceed to discuss with him if being in a polyamorous relationship is something he could get behind. Maybe it'd happen after a period of time with Kim living with them too, or something.

Roxie Richter

1. She gets ALL the girls- all of them. She's an unholy TERROR for men where she lives, because she is notorious for giving women the night of their lives and making them never look back so far as dating men goes. Now, I don't think she deliberately breaks up people or goes after "straight" girls or anything, but it's probably something that's happened on accident before, so she's A Menace. I will say that she might deliberately swoop in and woo a girl she knows is taken if it's extremely clear that their relationship is just Not Right- like if she's seeing clear signs of abuse, or something. She isn't intending to get with these girls when she does this, but she is fully intending to get them out of shitty situations. She's even turned girls down after their (ex) boyfriends have stormed off in a huff, simply out of respect for them- she'll try to give them advice, and if they're adamant in trying New Venues, she might play matchmaker where she can, but she isn't really comfortable sleeping with them after doing stuff like that- to her, it feels gross, maybe even exploitative.

2. I actually don't know if this is meant to be canon or not, because it's noted alongside some of her sketches, but she's german/japanese in my eyes- but raised in the states. She knows English the best, and some German, but she doesn't really know much Japanese, much to her own agitation- she just struggles with it a lot, for whatever reason. She can kind of read some things, but if she tries to speak it she runs the risk of butchering the words. I personally further HC her dad as German and her mom as Japanese- dad by process of elimination, mom based loosely on how I read some of her and Ramona's conversations in the comics.

3. She is in fact whistling the tune in the show intending it to be from the Robin Hood movie- in fact, I think I'm going to HC it as one of her favorite animated films from childhood. (... do I HC her as a furry now?)

Lisa Miller

1. Disaster Bi! She's a bit of a Menace and she knows it; she likes to rile people up, but she can't really take what she dishes out. Like, if she'd done the kind of seductive teasing she does to Scott to Kim and received any sort of flirting back, her brain would shut down and she'd need to reboot. She doesn't know how to handle when someone else takes the reigns, which is why it was so easy and fun to play with Scott- he was too stunned/shy to play back, which she enjoys. Not to imply she doesn't enjoy having her brain melted a little, of course.

2. I think she makes it big after she heads to America! Or at least, bigger than she was. She sends her friends back in Toronto signed copies of movie posters and CDs and things when she can- she doesn't expect them to keep them, although she loves it when they do, but at least in Scott's case it's sort of a "incase of emergency, please sell" sort of situation. He does not, obviously. (Ramona probably does, though, both from admittedly petty lingering jealousy and because they just don't have room for all of it; Scott rarely seems to notice anyhow, and the money usually goes towards rent or random gifts for him anyhow)

3. I forget if everyone's sudden absence is noticed when they Poof briefly during the finalt episode of the show, but if it is I feel like Lisa starts to talk to Kyle, since he's in front of her, like "hey, what exactly happened there-" before looking out over everyone else who reappeared in their seats and noticing Scott is actually up there with them. She spends the rest of that night chatting up him and the league, and maybe even scores an in with Matthew for getting a foothold in her acting career!

Matthew Patel

1 . He absolutely has a dedicated cult following for his theatrical works, and it's warranted! He's genuinely good at what he does, and his passion is clear as day; any production is lucky to have him, and he knows it, which can kind of lead to butting heads behind the scenes. I feel like he might come across to his fellow performers as full of himself, especially given his proficiency with one man performances, but he truly is just deeply, deeply passionate about his work, and he wants to feel that passion with anyone he works with, too. He NEEDS his energy matched to feel like it's going to be a grand performance, and he simply doesn't notice how off-putting this can be for his coworkers as a result.

2. The demon hipster chicks have always been the visual age they are now, even when Matthew was a kid; he viewed them as older sisters growing up, and they're very protective of him perhaps as a result. At his current age, they're his best friends and personal body guards- they'll descend like rabid dogs on anyone that steps out of line around him, if he doesn't call them off. Sometimes it's a bit much for him, but they're usually pretty good about understanding when they do and don't need to interfere on his behalf.

3. Ya know I'm not sure if it's a HC I've seen at all but I could really vibe with trans!masc Matthew. I would love that for him, truly.

Scott Pilgrim

1. Look... I really love any trans!Scott headcanons. Like, any direction, I've said before; I genuinely have such a problem figuring out which version I enjoy best: he's trans!masc and has been all along, or trans!fem and Ramona eventually helps to crack that egg. But also, while I'm saying this, he is. So stupid. Not like maliciously stupid in this sense, absolutely not, but I feel like he's the kind of person to like. Run into someone from his past post their transition, with THEM coming up to HIM to be like "oh long time no see, Pilgrim," and then he would say something to the affect of "oh, you have the same last name as (DN)!!! Are you related? Kim, Kim!! Do you know if (DN) had any siblings?" while Kim and the other person just stare at him deadpan for a bit before bursting into laughter at his expense. He would then proceed to be really confused and just not get it, either until they explain it to him or like, he'd just suddenly sit up in a cold sweat later that night realizing what he did like "oh my GOD that WAS them, I said their dead name at them like seven times!! I am Going To Hell!!!" (And Ramona would just kind of blindly, lightly slap around in his general direction, like "honey you're not going to hell for basically affirming the effectiveness of their transition, go the fuck to sleep. They would've said something if it was a problem." Idk, that's just how he feels to me.)

2. When he has his own money for things, and space living with Ramona, he spends it on video games or video game related merch- it's probably a lot of patches and t-shirts, but I can see him starting to collect plushies, too! Like some of the really old kinda silly looking Sonic plushies, for example? If I had my Knuckles one on hand I'd use him as an example, but I think he's in storage somewhere :(

3. Gets into really heated arguments about video game mechanics and stat stuff where applicable; like, Ramona has to drag him away or else he will actively start fighting people kind of heated. He can hold chill conversations, but if he feels like he's being talked down to about a game that he's REALLY into, like Sonic Adventure (he has the director's cut!)

Wallace Wells

1. MENACE TO SOCIETY. He's comparable to Roxie in this way except he is so much worse (I say this affectionately <3) because he does just straight up, in canon, do things like steal Stacey's boyfriends! And that's his friend that he's doing that to! So I cannot IMAGINE what mischief he gets up to when he goes out drinking. He's probably ruined so many lives, naybe even marriages. What am I saying, maybe? Definitely. And he feels no remorse about this! In his eyes either your man was already gay or you needed to treat him better, sweetie; he HAS been rejected before, so clearly his charms can't ruin what ain't already broken.

2. While he does have feeling for Scott, which is basically canon I don't even want to hear it, he KNOWS better. Like, he'd been living with Scott for a while, so he knows if they were legitimately dating he probably would be even more sick of him than he already is. When they were still living together, though, there were times where he couldn't help but wonder if it would really be all that bad... right before Scott comes in and does or says something that just highlights for Wallace that he's making the Sane choice. Besides, Wallace is (and i hate using these terms but I straight up don't know what other words I could possibly use) a sugar baby; he can't keep up being both a sugar baby and Scott's effective sugar daddy (HATEHATEHATE THAT WORD) while ALSO paying rent. It doesn't really work out that well, especially with him having, at the time, such a shitty apartment to begin with.

3. I feel like Wallace really enjoys his nightlife and getting to sleep around, so I'm unsure if this is something still in play while he's with Mobile, or if he respects Mobile enough to do away with that entirely. Like, different situations work for different relationships, so if Mobile is fine with it then maybe it's something that continues! But taking into account the sparks from the show, maybe he'd actually be really fine being exclusive with Mobile. Especially given how well their future selves seem to be doing. Idk! Basically the sum of this one is just that, if Wallace is exclusive with Mobile, he misses be a bit of a whore, but he's very happy where, and with who he is, now.

Envy Adams

1. She gives me vibes.. queer vibes... in some sort of direction.... idk if I'm fully behind her also being a comp. het lesbian or just labeling her a disaster bi, but I also get a vague sense of gender fuckery. It's entirely her name thing, probably, but I can see Envy being genderqueer.

2. She probably hunted Lynette down after that show- an arm was likely Not Enough to quite satisfy that rage. Especially since she didn't get the satisfaction of beating Todd more thoroughly herself, since Scott stepped in. Conversely, for the show canon, Wallace has a target on his back for the rest of her life, as far as she's concerned, even in a world where her feelings for Todd were just misunderstood- she considered him her best friend, and you don't get away with hurting her friends like that unless you're her.

3. I think I'd like to HC that some part of her regrets booting Scott from the band the way she did back in college? Maybe not immediately, or even soon, but I feel like sometimes she would think about him and their relationship as a whole and just feel bad, Idk. Like, she doesn't want to get back with him at all, but I could maybe see her offering to promote Shatterband (or Sex Bob-Omb, in the show,) or even play with him as a genuine apology instead of a coy trap somewhere down the line.

Knives Chau

1. Look... look I know I'm about to sound like a broken record... comp. het. lesbian or bi. HEAR ME OUT: her puppy dog love for Scott is really just that- something cute and innocent, but very intense, especially once he cuts her off in that honestly really brutal manner. Teenage heartbreak is messy- even if you feel like it was real, true love you had, you can often realize later in life that what you felt was just admiration, or something else innocuous like that. I think she reaffirms it to herself as a deep and true love because of how intense the pain of that breakup was, paired with everything that comes after, and I think the show really highlights that for me? Because in the show, with Scott out of the picture entirely, she's just a lot less intense about it. I think after playing music and hanging around his friends, she realizes she didn't really love him all that much, just thought he was a cool older guy and liked that he took an interest in her, even if she recognizes how wrong that was now. ((I probably have more articulate thoughts on this but I am really starting to feel the lack of pain meds so I need to get through this--))

2. Knives is really good at rhythm games and things like DDR or, when it's eventually released, Just Dance. Like, freakishly good. She picks them up just as well and just as quickly as she did her instruments.

3. With how quickly she picked up her instruments, she kinda gives me honor student vibes? Idk. I feel like it'd be a little stressful for her later on, because I do think her passionate drive for music makes her grades take a slight spin, but she just gives off that energy for me. Knives is a lot smarter than people give her credit for, I think, Idk.

... yes, I am very normal about media... spending 3 hours on 1 ask that offered me a lot more simplicity than I can apparently manage...

#asks #txt #kim pine #ramona flowers #roxie richter #lisa miller #Matthew Patel #scott pilgrim #wallace wells #envy adams #knives chau #i think i might have said this in the post but maybe i didnt or removed it- they're not necessarily ordered by like. most to least favorite #i just kinda chucked same names on there and went. debated starting some for lucas but i think my hands need a break- and my stomach a Snac #spto #sp comic #spvtw #headcanons #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim comic #scott pilgrim vs the world #potential spoilers for both the comics and the show i think?#if anyone wants this tagged w ship stuff for my little blurb under Kim lemme know #also I didn't include Roxie in the list of characters I think she likes but she should have been an honorable mention. i mostly had comic +#+ brain with that section #long post #woollyworm #demon hipster chicks #scott pilgrim headcanons

61 notes · View notes

thedeafprophet · 3 months

Text

Delayed Gratitudes

The Boisterous Author recieves a late, and unexpected, feast gift.

I have given into my concept of 'what valentines 'gift' would the captivating princess give to Jamie', and this has resulted 😌

Ty freddie and warabola for giving me gift ideas :3 <3

Word count: 2.1k

Relationship: The Captivating Princess/Original FL Character

Rating: teen

Tags: Gifts, Vague references to kink

Also on ao3

Jamie was exhausted after the week's events- a good kind of exhausted of course, the one that only comes after many nights of parading around with delightful people and intriguing conversation. A type of tiredness that, while thrilling and exhilarating, would lead them to hiding away in their room for many days after. Preferably with a cup of tea and some lovely strawberry biscuits. The curtain had fallen after the performance, and it was time to recover before the next.

Jamie had not gone directly home after the end of the last party; in fact they were not entirely sure when they had fallen asleep to begin with, but they had at least returned to awareness in their own bed, so one must assume that they had gotten home relatively safely. It was not the first time they've woken up somewhere without knowing how they got there, and they were sure it wouldn't be the last. Perhaps they ought to drink a touch less at parties, but where would be the fun in that?

It seemed to be well into the middle of the night when Jamie woke, as they blinked blearily at a clock on the wall after they padded out of bed. They would be the only one in the house at this hour, a grand shame of having no opportunity to incline Edith for a mid night snack, the hours stretched between now and when she would be arriving in the morning. Jamie pouted at the clock, as if the lack of snack opportunities was its fault somehow.

The most logical action, of course, would be to return back to bed, but Jamie had only found themself getting up in the first place due to some lingering antsy energy. They didn't think anymore sleep would be found for the moment.

That is how Jamie finds themself throwing on a wrapper, and padding on over to their office on the other end of the hall. Perhaps there was some work to be done, some writing inspiration sourced from the chattering and delights the prior week had given! The flutter of romance in the air always left inspiration for a good novel penning - and often for tragedy as well.

Despite that in mind, instead of settling down with their typewriter, Jamie's motion paused when they sighted the pile of mail waiting on their desk.

Ah, right. That. Jamie had been….postponing responding to letters - there had just been many! And they had activities to attend! One cannot be blamed for remaining on stage when the crowd cheers for an encore!

Jamie felt a little regret at leaving it for so long, now that they were faced with a pile to sort through. They could leave it a little longer couldn't they? Ah, but then they'd have even more to deal with wouldn't they….

With a deep sigh, Jamie sits down at their desk, flicks on their lamp, and pulls the first pile of mail towards themself.

They flick aimlessly through their mail - fan letters for their work kept aside for later rereading, a heckling letter laughed at, then crumbled into a wad and tossed away. An invitation to some boring get-together, pass. A missive here or there from a friend, put into a pile to be responded to. Another party invite, this one more compelling. Oh a love letter, how endearing. And amusing. All very, utterly, typical.

It is only when they are about half way through sorting the pile that they notice the box. Sitting ever so innocently behind the pile of mail sat a pristine, ribboned gift box, waiting ever so patiently for their attention.

Odd, it was well past the time for feast gifts, and Jamie had been sure to at least pay mind and open all of those. That was half the reason they hadn’t had time to get to the rest of the mail. Had they missed one? That didn't seem like them - no, whoever sent it must have clearly thought themself above the propriety of the time frame. Jamie huffed, and decidedly turns their focus back to sorting through their mail.

That barely lasts a minute, before their thoughts return back to the question of the box.

Well, technically it was part of the mail too, wasn't it? So it still needed to be opened. And it seemed so much more interesting than another boring letter.

Jamie nods to themself; perfect reasoning, and a good excuse to pause in looking through the mail. They pick up the box - not too heavy at all, but clearly something giving it weight - and walk back into their room to open it, lest they feel guilty ignoring the pile of mail they had set to complete.

Sitting atop their bed, Jamie pries off the ribbon tying it together, a delightfully silky texture in and of itself. Their eyes are drawn to the contents of the box as they remove the lid, noting first a flower gracefully laid on top of a cushion, next to what appeared to be a necklace.

Jamie reaches automatically to gently pull out the flower to examine it - but is met with a sharp, sudden jab of pain.

Jamie pulls their hand back with a gasp, watching as the blood flows from the scratch in a rivulet down their finger. With a distant artistic view they can't help but note it matches ever so well with the colour of the rose.

They mutter under their breath to themself as they put the box down; Of course it has thorns. Why didn't they check for that? That's the first thing you look for with a rose. Jamie sighs as they pull a cloth from their beside table to apply pressure on the wound, red soaking through the fabric almost immediately. That will be a trial of a stain to get out, though this household knows all too well the process of removing red stains at least. Jamie can admit they have a…habit of spills, so to speak.

When the scratch finally deigns it time to stop bleeding, Jamie returns their attention to the box, already put off from whatever this so-called gift is. Carefully, avoiding any thorns this time, they remove the flower from the contents.

The flower is a deep, dark colour. At first glance, Jamie assumes it to be an exile’s rose, something one usually finds throughout the season - Jamie had already received such back during the proper time to be sending gifts.

But it doesn't quite match the ones they have received. Its colour is not the same, the shape of this rose differs. By all accounts, it looks like a regular flower, beautiful and unblemished, but something about it sets them at ill ease. Some sense of familiarity pricks at the back of their mind that they just can't yet place, but makes them nervous, and unsteady.

Jamie quickly decides to put the flower down on the bed beside them, wanting nothing more to do with it. It had already caused enough damage, thank you very much. They give the flower a short glare for the harm it caused, before turning their attention back to the box.

Jamie picks up the necklace very slowly, not putting past it to have secret sharp bits too. They had no intention of any further scratches tonight, and will set to be careful with the matter! Their carefulness is unnecessary in the end, the whole thing seems rather smooth, even the gems that had been encrusted in it being of a rounded shape.

The shape of the object confused them, solid and heavy in their hands. It was a shining, brilliantly polished silver, encrusted with dazzling blue sapphires and diamonds. The inside had been lined with a soft, plushy fabric, perhaps to keep the cold metal at bay.

It was evidently not something cheap to acquire, most certainly custom made, and from just the look of it, would fit perfectly sized around their neck. They squinted at it confusedly, odd for it to have a loop in the front-

Ah.

Yes, they don't know why they didn't realize sooner; it wasn't a necklace at all, it was a collar, with a clear spot that a lead could be attached.

Jamie huffed to themself with a raised eyebrow. My, now that was rather forward, wasn't it? They can't recall the last time they last let someone put such a thing on them; that was an honour that had to be earned, and so few seemed skilled enough to earn it.

At least show your aptitude before sending it in a box right to their doorstep. A performer as talented as themself has very high, exacting standards.

As Jamie looks back down at the box from whence it came, it's only then that they notice the items weren't alone in the box. Underneath where the collar had been laid a small card. A note, perhaps? A sign off? Seems odd to Jamie to have placed it beneath anything - was the time between seeing the items and reading it intentional? Whatever it was, they intended to find out.

The words have Jamie's thoughts stutter all at once, realization hitting them like falling through the ice of a haphazardly frozen lake.

They knew that handwriting.

Knew it all too well.The cream card was embedded with delicate, flowing cursive, made by a perfectly practiced hand.

‘See you soon~’

It had no signature. It didn't need one.

Jamie swallowed heavily at the implications of the note, glancing with trepidation at the items they'd received. They shivered in the dark understanding of where exactly that rose had come from, the distant recollection of pained screams and buzzing whirring in their mind. Farbeit for The Captivating Princess to send any sort of ‘gift’ without a cruel, underlying malicious motive.

Their eyes flicked over to the collar.

Did she-

Was she implying-

Jamie feels a lump in their throat growing, as the all too familiar memory of hands on their neck, throat, back, stumble unbidden into their mind. The thought of delicately strong hands coming their neck, the weight of the collar heavy on their throat, clasp clicking shut and out of their reach-

Their face flushes heavily at the thought of what exactly she intended with this, given the context of their past encounters.

No, no. Surely not. This was a threat, a power play, nothing more. They were sure of it. Whatever her intentions were, Jamie was having none of it. Just another one of her irritating little games, their own overactive imagination was surely getting the better of them.

Still… What to make of this? They most certainly don’t want it- well, perhaps if the gift had truly come from a different source, they may have… considered entertaining the concepts. But not from her, never from her. Not if they had anything to say about it.

They should toss it in the stolen river, throw it somewhere no one would ever find it, or maybe just pluck out all the diamonds and trade them for the cost. That would certainly be far more considerate then whatever the aim was here, and a good comeuppance for the cruel joke.

Jamie ponders over countless thoughts of how they could be rid of it, before their thoughts drift to how she might react should she find out her so-called gift was disposed of.

Was she expecting them to keep it? Did she have… intentions? They certainly didn't want to give into her domineering behaviour, but to needlessly anger her with no benefit to themself…

The phantom pain of recently healed scratches burn on their back.

In a rush, Jamie is shoving both the collar and the flower back into the box, and slams the lid back on. They ponder only for a second, before walking over to their wardrobe, opening the doors and shoving the box far into the very back, behind lesser worn shoes and other miscellaneous boxes of items. Hidden, at least from view if not from mind.

They slam the doors of the wardrobe shut, and tamp down forcibly on the rest of their wandering mind. This doesn't bother them - it doesn't, not at all! They will simply pretend the box doesn't exist, and no ‘gift’ was ever opened.

It can rot at the back of their wardrobe; but still there, just in case.

Jamie does their best to shove the whole concept of the box out of their mind as they return to their office, and back to their mail. The actually important matters, things that actually serve a purpose. They can focus all their energy on that, and not on some foolish power play they most certainly don't care about.

At least, they can tell themself they don’t care about it, to the best of their capability. Whether that was actually true or not was their own business.

#this was a quick little write up lol #hehe #my writing #jamie and the princess #oc: jamie #the captivating princess #fic

45 notes · View notes

sophieinwonderland · 8 months

Note

I'm pro-endo, but I do think that the term "sysmed" is transphobic. I know that anti-endos who force a medicalized view of plurality are harmful, but they will never compare to the harm that transmeds did, and will never even come close to the harm caused by medicalizing transness. "Sysmeds" aren't the result of a vaguely homophobic ideology that strips away the bodily autonomy of gay trans people due to our supposed "fetish" for "real" gay people. Sysmeds aren't what forces people to jump through so many extra hoops for necessary medical care like transmeds are. Sysmeds aren't what gives me a strong fear of the irl gay and/or trans community. As bad as some anti-endo might be, please don't call them a sysmed.

Personally, I feel a lot of the differences you highlight are more due to the scale of the communities.

I've interacted with and seen so many pro-endo and mixed origin DID systems who are scared to interact with online DID communities. Even posting in DID tags here on Tumblr is something many pro-endos with DID are terrified too.

And the only reason this doesn't transfer to IRL plural communities as much... is because there really aren't IRL plural communities yet.

Systems are fakeclaimed so much that most systems don't feel safe coming out IRL, and organization is difficult. But I believe that's going to change which only increases their potential for harming the community. But even putting aside the potential future harm, I feel you're understating the harm already caused to the plural and DID communities.

But to discuss this, it's important to acknowledge that there is a larger divide here than just being pro and anti-endo.

The hatred for groups like The Plural Association isn't simply born of endophobia, but of a larger medicalist philosophy. For this reason, the word "sysmed" is more than just about the comparison. For a few common philosophies included in that framework:

Parts Language is treated as objective fact, and systems who don't use parts language are shamed for it. For the few system medicalists who believe endogenic plurality might exist, this is used as a dividing line. "Endogenic systems are people but CDD systems are part, so therefore we're different." The problem with this is that it erases the many systems who identify as people. Remember: CDD systems identified as different people FIRST, and were later labeled as only parts by psychiatrists.

The biggest threat to CDD systems is people pretending to be systems. The myth that there are a ton of people faking out there faking DID, and therefore making it harder to be diagnosed, is everywhere in these spaces.

The Shame Criterion. Some questionable studies were conducted into diagnosed systems that were deemed to be "imitative DID." The claim is that one difference between "imitative DID" and "genuine" DID is that people with genuine DID are ashamed of their symptoms. These have been passed around in system medicalist spaces, and raised suspicion towards any systems who are too proud or overt. (This is harmful to any attempt at plural rights because it immediately casts doubt on any systems who aren't ashamed enough. It also ignores that people who are isolated without a community of people with similar experiences will be more ashamed than those who have people with similar experiences.)

Dismissing Mixed Origin systems as endogenic. This, while tied to the endogenic question, isn't about it directly. Individuals that believe in endogenic plurality and think it should be kept separate are sure to keep mixed origin systems on the "endogenic" side. They would prefer people with spiritual beliefs about their systemhood, even if diagnosed with DID, to not be allowed into DID spaces. This is a direct threat to the ability of these systems to seek medical care for their disorders.

For all of these reasons and more, the term "sysmed" is about a larger philosophical divide between them and the inclusive plural community than just whether endogenic systems exist or not.

More than just harassment and bullying online, if doctors are aware of and listening to medicalist rhetoric, this could further harm CDD systems who seek diagnosis, reinforcing the myth that there's a DID fad and systems seeking help are jumping on a trend.

The McLean Hospital video that fakeclaimed diagnosed DID systems on TikTok for not being ashamed enough of their systems was PROMOTED here on Tumblr and reblogged by system medicalists, as well as posted to sysmed hubs like r/systemscringe.

This was a video that was deemed so harmful by the institution that posted it that they took it down the next day, but that hasn't stopped others from using it and spreading it as an example of a wave of DID fakers.

This directly resulted in DID TikTokers facing harassment.

And it could make doctors even more hesitant to diagnose people with DID because of the perceived influx of fakers.

It's impossible to measure the impact of system medicalists spreading the video, or the impact of their other rhetoric, but the fact is that their beliefs and the content they spread further stigmatizes all systems who don't conform perfectly to what's perceived as the medical model, and supports ideas that make it more difficult for many systems who would benefit from medical treatment to get it.

#syscourse #pro endo #pro endogenic #psychiatry #psychology #system medicalism #sysmeds #system discourse #sysblr #systems #multiplicity #endogenic #actually a system

105 notes · View notes

inviisiiblelee · 3 months

Text

The Beginning of a Lifetime

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Word Count: 2,030 Rating: Teen and Up Audience Relationship: Alastor/Vox Additional Tags: Vox is named George Taylor, Vox is Brand New, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), Fluff, First Meetings, i love writing about first meetings, Vox died in the 40s, Probably only a handful of years after Alastor at most, Alastor Takes Vox Under His Wings, porting from AO3, link included above if prefered. Notes: Always based around headcanons. I named him George Taylor simply because its a really non-unique and generic type of name. Meant for a boring, plain little man. I thought about V names like how Angel is Anthony, but I was looking up popular names for boys born in 1890's when I headcanon Vox was probably born and wanted to stay within the top of popularity. A (late) entry for RadioStatic week day 1. Enjoy! <3 Meant to rival in name my other work, The End of a Lifetime, too.

-----------------

George Taylor was not a violent man in life, and to be faced with so much violence immediately in Hell? He was absolutely not ready. Not only was he unprepared for the levels of pure chaos, but even his own body was beyond a little different. He couldn’t say it didn’t make some sense, he’d only died with a large television set dropped directly onto his head. Turns out that’s quite enough pressure to cause the skull to give in and be crushed completely. He had enemies, sure, while alive, it wasn’t something that could be easily avoided in the line of business he had pursued, at the end of the day. And some of those people were more temperamental than he was, but that was where his disarming charm was used the best. He could talk a majority of people down from a direct conflict, could sugar his words just right so that they would feel reassured. White lies, little seeds of doubt or warmth, a way of wriggling into their hearts and minds. He was good at it. He was just a plain, simple man, anyway. What was intimidating of someone as plain as him? Dressed well and groomed, with an easy smile and all the patience in the world. A soft voice, dulcet tones, easy airs of confidence and pleasantry. It worked.

Usually.

His life’s final confrontation was impossible to ease down, and George was not a fighter in any way. He could be quick on his feet, but fear, while motivating, didn’t make it easy. It wasn’t as though it wasn’t a fair experience - he’d gotten the man booted from his job, needled down with debt, and serving time for something he definitely did not do, as a star witness who lied on the stand in full confidence and with the performance of a lifetime. It made sense he was murdered, and it made perfect sense he found himself here in Hell, something he did, at least, gather quickly.

He didn’t anticipate some sort of warm welcome, of course, no group of happy campers to explain how things worked or to help him out, but he also didn’t quite anticipate being jumped and pushed into an alleyway by a small group of three rough looking demons (he had to guess? Surely that was what they were called?) who threw him to the ground, searched his pockets, slammed his head against a wall, and took his slightly worn out jacket and his shoes of all things, considering he had nothing else to offer. He wasn’t sure how a television of a head could lead to the pain shooting through his back and limbs, and while he was unsure of anything else that was injured, it hurt more than he liked to admit, and trying to stand led to such severe vertigo that he slid down against the wall and just stayed there.

He had never been so beaten down so fast while alive, even as a sickly sort. He was often ill, pushing through regardless and a little less than sturdy as a result, but he’d always been able to keep some sort of victimization at bay. Yet here he was now, exhausted already, in pretty poor shape and relative thundering pain, hazy vision and some sort of buzzing in the back of his mind that was steadily growing. It was a little distracting, really, and he sort of leaned into the sound, trying to follow it, the odd tones and shifting noise. It reminded him of an older time, before he was a television personality, back when he worked in the industry fixing problems with the tech. It was a sound mostly associated with audio problems, really. He wondered how deep the effects of having such a … changed physical form went. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to really look or examine it much before things went down, anyway.

Static was building in his head, and George was finding it hard to think. The sound of it shifted and changed every moment, pitch and tone flowing up and down like someone trying to tune an old instrument, except interspersed by buzzing and screeching of something electronic. Like a speaker ruined by water, or being in general interfered with. He tried reaching out to it mentally in some way, a sort of … internal troubleshooting. It felt weird and almost nauseating to explore, but he was trying to make any sense of it. He found he could sort of lower the volume of it, but it kept rising even when he did, steadily, and eventually he gave up, letting the buzzing, shrill feedback take over his mind.

He barely noticed a shadow tower over him.

But he did. He saw it projected along the ground and over his person, and his heart dropped into his stomach. A soft little plea for mercy escaped him, and he realized he had been whimpering quietly for a little while now. He hadn’t noticed in the whirlwind of emotion and sensation, and something akin to tears appeared to be dripping from his screen. It felt weird. A chill settled over him, and he felt fear sink into his soul.

George looked up at the person causing the shadow. Shades of red, black accents, a demon dressed rather formally and holding something that looked like both a cane and some sort of … microphone? The buzzing was so loud in his ears, and then it abruptly cut quiet as the looming form spoke.

“Good to see you, old friend.” A hand was outstretched to him, the friendliest gesture anyone had shown him so far, at all.

Old friend? For a moment, all George could do was stare at him, this strange … person? Man? Devil? And then it clicked.

Was that Alastor? They had met a couple of times over the years they lived on Earth simultaneously. A radio host, whose voice George was fairly familiar with when he would make his trips through his area. They’d met in person only a handful of times, at various functions that George ended up at per his workplace. The two had shared a few conversations, and he remembered them well, one of which being recommended to look into broadcasting himself, a compliment that George had taken quite seriously. Alastor had been a hell of a man when alive, certainly, in spite of what he thought he knew of his potential crimes. It wasn’t as though it was his job to judge, and it wasn’t as though he felt he had been in any danger. He remembered hearing about his death, finding it quite regrettable and sad, even. It was quite the accident to learn of. But Alastor was far from who he expected to run into, let alone to be recognized by.

“Alastor?”

Idiot. It was the only thing he could seem to say, even as he reached forward and placed his own hand in the other’s. His blue fingers contrasted so starkly against the red of his old acquaintance’s. But he found support and strength in the grip of his friend’s, and Alastor helped him stand and steadied him easily when he swayed. He was smiling wide, and George wondered if he was really that happy to see him. He couldn’t help but feel a little relief - okay, a lot of it. A weight was being lifted from his chest, seeing someone familiar, someone he would happily trust in this moment. Maybe a little naive, or a dangerous line of thoughts, but he couldn’t help himself.

“The one and only!” Alastor replied, chipper energy in the words. “You look an absolute mess, friend, what happened?”

“Oh, uh,” George hesitated to respond, but it was hard to miss the clear evidence of an attack, anyway. Or at the least, the torn clothing and dazed expressions. “Someone stole my jacket and shoes.” He said it with a shrug, and he offered his own easy smile. It was something he could do, at least. He could pretend, in this moment, that it didn’t matter.

“How shameful of them! Come along, I’ll get you sorted out straight away. What did they look like?” The question had him blinking, and then scrambling to remember. It hadn’t even happened more than an hour ago, so he gave what description he could. Alastor simply nodded, looking away in what he thought was some sort of consideration. He placed a hand on George’s back, urging him out of the alleyway finally, leading him down the sidewalk.

“Sorry, I’m just a little out of it still,” he said quickly. “Just got here and I didn’t quite think it would all be so … immediately exciting.” Carefully chosen words as he examined his surroundings, peering around to finally get a sense of where he might be, the state of things around here. He’d barely made it a few blocks on his own, before.

“Worry not, we’ll get you right as rain in no time at all,” was all Alastor offered, and George fell into step with him cautiously.

Things were odd. Alastor brought him to what seemed to be a tailor, offering to cover him getting repaired and refreshed clothing for the time being. He didn’t ask for anything from George as they left, but he couldn’t help feeling relieved. He noted that many seemed to shy away from Alastor for some reason, fleeting glances and then people crossing the roads, as if to get away from him. It was a weird thing to see - Alastor was still only smiling, seemingly unbothered by any of it.

“What’s with the parting of the crowd?” George finally asked after a little more walking, entirely unsure where they were even going, now.

“Oh, they’re merely getting out of the way,” Alastor said simply. “I’ve made a few waves here, they know to move pretty well.” He said it so jauntily, George couldn’t find a reason to mind it. If Alastor had made a name for himself already, then all the better, right? Good for him.

They walked only for a few blocks before George realized they were within sight of the group that had attacked him. Stepping a little closer to Alastor, without realizing it, he tensed up. Alastor seemed to notice, however.

“Is that them?”

“I- I think so? The one on the right has my jacket, at least.”

“Stay here, yes?”

“Uh. Okay.”

Alastor broke away from him with a few strides and approached the small group of other demons. Alastor’s height towered over them, and they seemed very startled by his presence. George stayed where he was told, unable to hear the conversation, though it was clearly mostly Alastor speaking to them at length before holding out one hand, palm up, expecting something. A moment passed, and then something in the air changed, and the buzzing static and feedback roared in his ears all of a sudden. He saw the space around Alastor darken, saw a long, strange set of antlers begin to grow from his temples. Dark shadows formed around the trio, and those around otherwise were quick to clear away at the display, but George could only seem to stare. The shadows traveled up and wrapped around each of the demons, and he snatched George's jacket and shoes from them, as well as other belongings. The shadows squeezed harder and harder, until they were certainly pleading desperately, before being abruptly consumed into the ground without further showing. Alastor draped the jacket over his arm and returned to George’s side, holding his things out.

George blinked a few times before remembering himself, taking them from him with a rushed set of thank you’s, which Alastor only waved away with a quick dismissive comment. They fell into step together again, and Alastor asked if he felt fine enough to join him for lunch.

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“No thanks necessary. What else are friends for? You must catch me up, I’m sure we have plenty to discuss, so stay close, hm?”

“Definitely will do.”

And, well. Vox would be a man of his word, for as long as Alastor wanted him there.

#staticradio #radiostatic #radiostatic week 2024 #radiostatic week day 1 #first meetings radiostatic #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x vox #vox hazbin hotel #early hell hazbin hotel #my writing #hazbin hotel fanfiction

36 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 4 days

Note

Hi! Do you have any 1941 fics that involve the aftermath of Crowley's feet being burned? The only one I can find is based on Oopsie Omens (I feel your lips kissing my feet by IneffableDoll). Thank you so much!

Hey. We have some feet washing fics here on our #post church scene tag. Here are a few more to add...

Your Lightning Lit Up the World by Suvroc (G)

After the Blitz, the 'lift home' missing scene - Aziraphale's introduction to and first ride in the Bentley go about as well as could be expected, and he’s left shaken (by that, and other revelations) to his very core. At the bookshop, he finds out Crowley’s foxtrot over consecrated ground has not left him unscathed. Even with unresolved issues, can they possibly find a safe way forward after years apart? Of course they can, as long as they address absolutely nothing directly.

Let Me Keep You(r Feet) Warm by AnonymousDandelion (G)

He doesn’t usually miracle clothing from raw firmament. Moral standards, he always told Crowley, who used to tease him relentlessly about it. Doing so would be a frivolous miracle, and besides, he’s always preferred the feel of human-made handiwork for his own attire. For Crowley, though, Aziraphale will make an exception to his usual rules. He pulls the formlessly metaphysical stuff of firmament together into physicality, molding it with mind and will and heart — he does not usually find creation to be such an act of emotional dedication and intimacy, but this time it somehow feels like it — and when he is finished, he has a pair of soft, smooth, warm black socks in his hands, tailored to fit the feet stretched before him, the fabric interwoven with a layer of care and protectiveness unrelated to the physical material of which it is made. ~ ~ ~ OR: How many feels can fit into one pair of socks? (Answer: A decent many.)

If They Only Knew by wahoo_shem (G)

Post Church Scene. Aziraphale invites Crowley into the bookshop to tend to his feet. And ask him a question. (Made for the Jukebox Omens Event before Season 2. You know, the era where we all gave them a romantic night in the bookshop only to find out those goobers were off doing miracle free magic in front of Nazi Zombies)

The Scars We Cannot Heal by letmetemptyou19 (T)

"I’m not Beelzebub, Crowley. You shouldn’t have to endure the pain in private or pretend it isn’t there. Please, let me care for you,” Aziraphale pleaded, sinking down to sit on the floor next to the sofa. He tentatively removed the demon’s glasses and looked at him meaningfully. Crowley was surprised to see Aziraphale’s own eyes sparkling with tears as well. “I want to take care of you.” Crowley pushed himself up into a sitting position and grit his teeth as he his kicked off his shoes. Aziraphale blinked at him. “Well, go ahead. Take care of me.” ----- In which Aziraphale takes care of Crowley after his feet are burned in the Church/Blitz Scene. Crowley's wounds are not the only scars to be confronted in the soft light of the bookshop. Lots of angst and ineffable pining.

Dream a Little Dream by Lady of Prompts (T)

Aziraphale rarely dreamed. He didn’t sleep, so that already made it exceedingly unlikely. But sometimes – when his mood struck him just so – his mind would start to drift, and he experienced what humans called daydreaming. And he always dreamed about one specific demon. Who, unknown to Aziraphale, would dream of him back...

And the one you mentioned...

I feel your lips kissing my feet by IneffableDoll (T)

Azazel worries Jophiel has frostbite after walking across cursed ground and invites him back to the bookshop to look after him. (AKA I give this comic the pre-season 2, post-1941 treatment we all deserve.) A(nother) fanfic for paaminty(asleepyy)’s Reverse AU comic, Oopsie!Omens.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #post church scene #injury #hurt/comfort #mod d

41 notes · View notes

em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 4 months

Text

Belated Blogiversary Celebration!

I've been meaning to do something for my one-year blogiversary for a while now (it was September 24th lol, I'm VERY late on this!), and it occurred to me that I could do some sort of raffle where people can IDK, either make a post to a tag about it or just directly submit themselves via a Google form or something.

As some of you might know, I'm a suuuuuper amateur bookbinder. Like, real new. But, the hobby seems to be going pretty well for me so far! The books I've made aren't completely perfect, but they're solid and look nice and function perfectly well as books (see here for a look at how I'm binding my fanfic lol).

I'm going to have a spare copy of terms of endearment soon, is why I'm asking. I've made two and am in the process of making a third. It's a lot of effort, but I enjoy the hobby and am having fun experimenting! I was wondering what I'd do with the third when I thought about being able to just.... give one away.

I would be footing the costs of this - no profits = completely free and clear, legally speaking. All anyone'd need to do is participate on whatever medium I end up deciding, if this ends up being something people are interested in.

So, yeah. Lemme know if this is worth considering! I'll probs have more polls to determine how people would prefer this run in the event I do actually have interest on this.

#terms of endearment │ daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic

38 notes · View notes

emotionallychargedtowel · 1 year

Text

The Eighth Sense episodes 9 and 10: All we can do is try

Wow! I think for the most part the showrunners of T8S did really well with the final two episodes. I have a few quibbles, but they managed to tie up most of the loose ends convincingly and do something worthwhile with the therapy part of the story, so I’m calling it a win.

These episodes don’t include a lot of further development of the psychological themes of the show, and for good reason. They’re too busy resolving everything that has already been brought up. But they do portray some shifts and make some statements about the characters and the larger themes they’re engaged with. Some fall a bit flat, most are good, and a few are really outstanding.

Below are the subject headings I’ll be getting into under the cut:

The final therapy scene

Being selfish

A shift for Jae Won

When it’s OK to expect “too much”

All we can do is try

Miscellaneous lingering thoughts

Tagging you again, @waitmyturtles!

The final therapy scene

Jae Won’s therapist has always had a style that is informal and blunt, plays around with boundaries, and uses humor. I would have expected her to be willing and able to use confrontation in therapy as well, because that strategy really goes along with that overall style. Well, in this episode she confronted Jae Won quite directly. She definitely didn’t pull any punches but I think she stayed within the range of reasonable therapy strategies. One thing I can say for this show’s portrayal of therapy: they have created a three-dimensional therapist character who has a specific, consistent style that is cohesive and realistic. So, a little background about therapists directly sharing their unvarnished perspective with clients. In most types of therapy work and in most styles of doing therapy, the therapist develops a conceptualization of a client early on in their time together, then revises or adds to it as they learn more. Often, certain things seem very clear to the therapist that are hard for the person themselves to see. (Of course, if you’re doing your job well, you kind of keep a mental asterisk next to any and all of these conclusions and don’t consider them confirmed until the client agrees.) The conceptualization includes not only diagnoses (which may be provisional) but also thoughts about how the client’s difficulties probably came about (a.k.a. their etiology) and thoughts about what sort of changes are needed in order for them to feel better and function in a more adaptive way.

Most of the time it’s not a good idea to just blurt those things out to the client. They usually need to come to certain conclusions on their own. There are ways of helping them toward those conclusions or feeding them small bits of them in a way that helps them to cobble together their own version of that insight on their own. But to a great extent, they have to figure it out themselves.

Still, there are some times when it makes sense to directly hand a piece of your conceptualization over to the client, even if it’s challenging for them to hear. This is what Jae Won’s therapist does. At a point where some therapists would be keeping their ideas to themselves, she comes right out and tells Jae Won he’s being selfish. In real life, this degree of confrontation would only work if the therapist was leveraging both a strong rapport and a strong base of knowledge about the client (preferably, these would have been built up over the course of years). This would be hard to show specifically in a tv series, but I’m assuming that Jae Won’s therapist has those resources in hand and is using them in this way.

And she doesn’t pull any punches! If anything, she might be intentionally putting things in a way that’s critical toward Jae Won. Why would she do that? Well, I think what she’s after isn’t just a chance to be direct with Jae Won about her viewpoint on his situation. I think she’s also hoping to give him a kind of jolt that will wake him up, so to speak. It’s related to something I wrote about in my last T8S post. There’s a theory that in order to go from a depressive, dissociated type of PTSD expression (associated with an acute “freeze” response to trauma) to a more healthy engagement with life, you have to pass through a more activating kind of PTSD symptoms (associated with a fight and/or flight acute response). This is a great example of that. Jae Won’s PTSD is very much of the freeze-y, depressive type. Getting irritated with his therapist helps him to start connecting with his emotions again, and that sort of snowballs into him getting increasingly un-frozen.

As usual, it’s hard to situate the therapy session shown at the beginning of episode 9 at a precise point in relation to other events in the story. But wherever its exact chronological position is, it definitely seems to inform the choices Jae Won makes from that point on. It’s funny how human beings can defend ourselves against the things others say to us and seem so sure of ourselves but then, perhaps after more thought, can still take in what they said. Jae Won protested that this was how things had to be, at least for now, when his therapist pushed him. But he wound up taking what she had to say to heart.

One of the things I appreciated most about this therapy scene was the fact that it seems to have actually made an impact on Jae Won and on the story more broadly. I’ve been worried pretty much from the start of this series that even if therapy was portrayed in a complex, realistic, but positive way, it still wasn’t likely to be shown as an agent for change. But this portion of this session seems like it at least made a significant impact. I found it really encouraging to see that.

The next part of episode 9 is the conversation Ji Hyun has with Joon Pyo and then, once she arrives, with Ae Ri. I found this scene a little bit clunky. Suddenly it’s as if Ae Ri is Ji Hyun’s therapist and not a fellow college freshman. It didn’t really seem realistic as a discussion between people their age. But it served its purpose. Ji Hyun needed a nudge to consider how Jae Won’s trauma history played into his reaction to the accident and his treatment of Ji Hyun, and this conversation got him there.

Ae Ri also exhorts Ji Hyun to be patient and careful and not try to rush things with Jae Won. Events in the story seem to show that her advice was correct. But I have some quibbles with it, which I’ll explain further below.

Being selfish

In both Jae Won’s conversation with his therapist and Ji Jyun’s conversation with Ae Ri and Joon Pyo, there’s a theme of selfishness. I want to dig a little deeper on that. Jae Won’s therapist tells him he’s being selfish. A lot of what she mentions is more along the lines of being self-absorbed. He simply isn’t considering how Ji Hyun might feel. Trauma often causes people to be more self-absorbed, so this stands to reason. But there is also an element of actual selfishness at work. Jae Won frames his avoidance of Ji Hyun as protecting his friend, and he does sincerely think he’s doing that. But he’s also trying to protect himself--in fact, I’d say that is a bigger factor for him. Avoiding Ji Hyun allows him to avoid his memories of the accident (and the reminders of his brother’s death that come with them). He thinks it will allow him to avoid suffering another loss and feeling the pain that comes with that (though in fact, for the period where he pushes him away, he’s actually causing himself to lose Ji Hyun). He doesn’t want to feel all of the difficult emotions that come with everything that has happened, and he makes that a priority over being there for someone who loves him and who has also just experienced something traumatic.

(By the way, does this dynamic--saying you’re putting another person first but not really considering their perspective, staying in your safe zone within your own head and abdicating your responsibility to someone who loves you--sound like another BL character you know? Yep, it’s a different version of the Hira Kazunari maneuver. It has a very different spin on it but there’s also a good deal of overlap. Thanks to @jemmo for pointing out this and other parallels between T8S and Utsukare, though it’s possible I’m taking this in a different direction than they would.)

At the same time, Jae Won is a survivor of trauma. And I’d bet dollars to donuts he also experienced complex trauma in the form of physical abuse by his dad. He just got out of the military and is still adjusting to that transition. Meeting Ji Hyun and facing the feelings he has for him is a mostly positive thing, but at the same time, it shakes up his whole world and his way of relating to others. He’s going through a lot and has a limited amount of insight into his own situation. Personally, I’d hesitate to simply label him as selfish. But his therapist’s interpretation is valid, and may have been intentionally expressed in a simple and confrontational way in order to get through to Jae Won.

What about Ji Hyun? Ae Ri doesn’t say he’s selfish, but he says during they’re conversation that he thinks he’s been selfish and she says, “What’s done is done,” seeming to tacitly agree with him. It’s true that he has been focused on what’s happening between him and Jae Won and hadn’t considered how Jae Won’s prior trauma history might be playing a role in his behavior until that point. But he’s just a kid, he just went through a traumatic experience himself, and it’s totally legitimate for him to be preoccupied with the Jae Won situation under the circumstances.

So, are they both being selfish? Kinda. Is it that simple? No. Did they come by their self-absorption honestly? You bet they did. But they both benefit from getting a wake-up call, so it seems there’s no harm done even though that label is rather reductive.

While I’m talking about Ae Ri’s sudden turn toward sounding like a therapist, there’s another big thread in her discussion, and that is the need to approach Jae Won very carefully and gently. Honestly, I don’t really get this. It’s not a bad idea. It’s often a good idea when dealing with anyone who’s experiencing a lot of distress. But it’s also not some kind of well-known principle of relating to or repairing with a trauma survivor. I would say that it depends on the survivor and the situation. Ji Hyun has already struck out while being more overt in his pursuit of Jae Won at this point, so changing his tack makes sense. But Jae Won’s therapist got some mileage out of confronting him. I guess I just find this kind of random. Well, it figures that a freshman fine arts major might not have the most flawless psychological insights. But this, along with Ae Ri’s abrupt shift in tone, ends up feeling like another way in which this scene seems kind of half-baked.

A shift for Jae Won

Throughout episode 9, Jae Won seems to be “thawing out.” His affect starts to be less blunted from the start of the episode. I think he comes back to himself a bit more after Eun Ji tricks him into kissing her in front of Ji Hyun. I had said before these episodes dropped that his protective feelings toward Ji Hyun could get him out of freeze mode, and although I was picturing something more clear and dramatic, I think some degree of that may have played a role once he saw what seeing them did to Ji Hyun.

For a second, when Yoon Won meets with Ji Hyun and Jae Won to talk about writing a report for the university on how the accident happened, I thought they were actually going to sit down and hash out what happened and try to sort through the roles they played. Honestly, I think it could have been great. It could have functioned as a form of exposure, which counteracts the temptation to avoid that fuels PTSD. It could have been an opportunity to expose the cognitive distortions that Jae Won was harboring in his attempt to blame himself for the accident. They had a neutral, but kind, third party present that could have kept them from being so reactive toward each other that they couldn’t accomplish their task. But they the story went another route. Maybe it’s just me, but I thought it was a missed opportunity. There was still an important moment here, though--Ji Hyun reaching for Jae Won’s hand and persevering even after Jae Won initially shrugs him off. The way it was filmed was so evocative.

I loved that Ji Hyun bought Jae Won a new camera. I don’t particularly think he knew the connection between Jae Won’s old camera and his younger brother, though it’s possible. It seems like he was more motivated by wanting to, as he put it in his card, “support [Jae Won’s] dream.” Then he ended up re-enacting Jae Won’s brother’s gift in a way. I wouldn’t have assumed that would be helpful in real life, but it could be, and in this instance it seems that it was. There was definitely a nice full-circle aspect to it, narratively speaking.

All of this, together, made for a pretty convincing progression leading to Jae Won opening back up to and finally responding to Ji Hyun. Pretty convincing, within the realm of fiction. And I desperately wanted a happy ending for this show, so I’m definitely not complaining there. But relative to the can of worms the showrunners had opened up in the last two episodes, I felt like the change in Jae Won that was needed for a happy ending wasn’t quite earned. Maybe I have a little too much background knowledge of trauma for my own good? I’ve seen, and experienced, how much time and work it takes to come back from the state Jae Won was in during episodes 8 and 9, but if I knew a little less maybe I wouldn’t perceive a disconnect here. I guess if I could change something I would either have made things a bit less extreme when Jae Won hit bottom or I would have included a more dramatic plot twist to get to the resolution, one that could have balanced out the intensity by giving him some sort of huge motivation to get out of his rut. Which probably would have involved torturing both him and Ji Hyun even more, which of course I didn’t want. But I guess I’d still prefer something that seemed more realistic to me.

In the end I’m reminded of Utsukushii Kare again (”what doesn’t remind you of Utsukushii Kare, Towel?” you may ask, and you’d have a point). At the end of season 1, UK led the audience down a path toward a well-composed ending. But when I rewatched it and looked at it more closely, it seemed a little convenient, and more than a little bit sudden, that Hira finally got his head out of his ass when he did. And then what happened when we got to season 2? He’d reverted to form in a lot of ways. It was frustrating to an extent, but I was glad. Because it made more sense for that character to have to put in more time and work to earn that degree of change. If we get more of The Eighth Sense--and I wouldn’t be surprised if that happened, since the showrunners have already dropped hints--I think we might see them doubling back a bit into those pieces that don’t seem fully resolved here.

When it’s OK to expect “too much”

I wrote in my last T8S post about Ji Hyun’s comment about wanting to help Jae Won heal. Basically, I said that there was likely some degree of naïveté on display there, but at the same time, I think that those of us watching the show from the United States and other places where individualism is the rule have a bias against the idea of wanting, asking for, or expecting a certain level of care from the important people in our lives--a level of care that is actually quite reasonable. One of my favorite things about the last two episodes of T8S is that there are moments when the show makes a strong case for normalizing expecting a lot from--and being willing to offer a lot to--one’s partner.

This gets shown metaphorically in the “game” Ji Hyun introduces to Jae Won toward the end of episode 10. Here’s how I wrote it down in my notes:

JH: Hyung.

JW: Yes?

JH: Do you know that game?

JW: What game?

JH: Take two steps back. (JW's hesitant.) Come on.

(JW steps back, looking just a little bit forlorn.)

JH: If you take two steps away from me, I'll...take three steps towards you.

(He does, then steps back to his former position again.)

JH: Take two steps forward.

(JW does.)

JH: If you take two steps forward, I will be here waiting.

This was without a doubt my favorite moment in the last two episodes, possibly of the series as a whole. It’s a really meaningful statement of commitment. I’ve written about the pursuer-distancer dynamic in BLs in the past. I didn’t see a lot of it in this series. I think that’s because we just barely get to see Jae Won and Ji Hyun’s relationship get off the ground and there are so many other obstacles they have to overcome that they don’t get that many chances to run into challenges in that area. But i think that framework is useful for talking about the “game.” In a very real sense, Ji Hyun is saying, “if you distance yourself from me, I’ll pursue you. If you pursue me, I won’t distance myself.” The healthiest way to handle pursuer-distancer roles in a relationship isn’t to avoid ever pursuing or distancing. It’s to stay flexible enough that either partner can pursue or distance at different points when it’s needed without getting calcified into one habitual, exaggerated role. That’s part of what Ji Hyun describes here. He’s also describing a determination to stay steadfastly emotionally available even in the face of the kind of circumstances that drive both pursuing and distancing. It’s beautiful.

All we can do is try

There’s one thing The Eighth Sense has over Utsukushii Kare (season 2, specifically), and that is that Jae Won and Ji Hyun openly acknowledge something that Hira and Kiyoi never state directly (and maybe haven’t even figured out yet at the end of season 2). In the last scene, Ji Hyun asks Jae Won if he thinks they’ll be OK, and he replies, “All we can do is try.” He’s echoing both Ji Hyun’s boss and Yoon Won here, as both have made this point in different ways. (It reminds me of the old-fashioned screenwriting convention of having any really important piece of information repeated three times.) There are no guarantees and there’s no ironclad way to make sure things will work out. In fact, things are bound to not work out in some respects. The trick is to be able to sit with that and keep going anyway. I have a few last unwritten Utsukare posts living in my brain and one of them is about the “contradictory” or “bittersweet” feeling both Hira and Kiyoi talk about in their voiceovers during season 2 and how I think what they’re describing is just the inherent contradictory nature of loving someone. Loving someone means being drawn to them, wanting to be with them, feeling willing to put yourself out there for them, but it also involves a risk that can be deeply scary (even scarier if you have as much baggage as Hira and Kiyoi). But this never gets stated--it’s like neither of them quite figures it out. But by the end of The Eighth Sense, Jae Won understands this. He may still need some more time to fully take it in, but at least he’s aware of it on an intellectual level. Love is risk and there’s no way to avoid that aspect of it, but it can be more than worth it. “Let's try it together,” Jae Won tells Ji Hyun, “even if we're afraid.”

Miscellaneous lingering thoughts

I’m not entirely happy with the way Dae Hyung and Eun Ji were redeemed. Jae Won’s discussion of Dae Hyung’s genuineness took me by surprise and made a degree of sense. I’m not entirely sold on it, but I’m more sold on it than I would have expected. But Eun Ji? It’s like by the end of episode 10, she’s had a complete personality transplant. And then she makes that nonsensical comment about the five senses? I found it all a bit ham-fisted.

I loved the “don’t just treat me cute” scene. It was (sorry, Ji Hyun) cute as hell, and it introduced some additional complexity to the characters and their relationship. But I think it was also a deliberate response to BL tropes, especially tropes that many have noted are particularly widespread in Korean BLs. Jae Won is pretty clearly a seme figure in the story. He does most of the pursuing. He also has some of the more stereotypical seme qualities. He’s older, he’s a bit taller, and he has a broader build than Ji Hyun. He’s the “hyung” in more ways than one. But whereas we might expect Ji Hyun, the younger, somewhat smaller uke, to become like a “blushing maiden” type in the bedroom, he shows a completely different side here. “Don't just treat me cute,” he says. “You don't know what's coming.” He smiles during that last part, and it’s at least partially lighthearted. But that line is also sincere. And it acts as a kind of commentary from the showrunners. “You don’t know what’s coming,” they tell us. “The seme/uke role split, age, and relative size of these characters doesn’t predict how they’ll relate to each other sexually.” Good for them! More BLs should include gestures like this one.

I love that Yoon Won and Joon Pyo hooked up. They’re both such straightforward sweeties that it makes sense that they didn’t waste any time wondering if the other was into them or worrying about the implications and instead just skipped ahead to hardcore making out. Also, heaven forbid an older woman take an interest in a younger man! That aspect seemed like another way of pushing against conventions.

I’ve made quite a few critical comments about the final two episodes here, but I want to make it clear: I thought these episodes, as well as the series overall, were really well done. I enjoyed the series a lot. It stumbled in places, mostly because it’s so ambitious. But the result is really admirable.

#The Eighth Sense #the eighth sense meta #the eighth sense discussion #the eighth sense analysis #psychology of bl #jae won x ji hyun

140 notes · View notes