#galaxy brain i'll start doing this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Note

hello gorgeous, I love your imagination that you put into words. I expecially like your works on daniel&gasly (maybe because they're my favorite drivers). I saw that requests are closed and you're going under the knife (hope it goes well!) but if by any chance you want/have time to write this I'll be happy. Will be pleased with whatever you choose to do with this request.

The reader is a very normal, ordinary person. Rents a flat, has a job, meets with her friends form time to time. Nothing much. Somehow hers and the drivers paths cross. He immediately falls in love with her, she feels the attraction but after one weekend with him she understands that they're too different and it certainly won't work. So he's trying to persuade her to give them a try and she always runs away when her feelings instead of brain start to win. During intimate moments she starts to make awful jokes or act like a child, everything to not let the passion take over and the driver notices that and the seducing begins.

Would love this with dan or pierre but it's up to you.

Have a lovely day! 😊

P.S: Sorry for my English, it's not my 1st language

Romantic at Heart || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Warnings: none really, smut implied WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist

You should have been heading straight home, just like you had promised the girls after a Friday night out, but the lights had stolen your attention. At first you thought it was a firefly, a single orange glowing tail on the brick wall. Then you spotted another, but it was blue. Then one by one you noticed them dotted along the wall, all the colours of the rainbow leading the way to the riverbank in the opposite direction to your apartment.

Curiosity had you following the path of tiny LED lights, wondering what it might lead to. The distance between each beacon grew closer until they became clusters, like little galaxies of constellations you could wish upon. A small laugh bubbled up as you skipped along to the next one with childlike excitement, so engrossed in what you were looking at that you didn’t see where you were going.

“Oh, sorry!” you apologised as you bumped into a man, his hands scrambling to catch his camera before it could hit the pavement. “Sorry, I was distracted. Is your camera okay?”

The man had recovered it without incident and smiled as he held it up. “Mind if I check?”

“Check what?” you asked as he raised it to his eye, the lens pointed in your direction.

“If it still works. Smile!”

You laughed at the man’s confidence and you heard the shutter snap the photo before he looked at the display. “Wow, that’s perfect,” he praised, waving you over. “Come look.”

You stepped closer to the man, feeling a sense of recognition though you were certain you hadn’t met him before. He angled the camera so you could see what he had captured and your lips parted in surprise. You couldn’t understand how he had managed to take a simple photo but make it art.

The smile on your face was pure joy, and the lights behind you had distorted under the exposure and contrast to create a halo around your head.

“You look like an angel.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered in amazement, wishing you could have a copy for yourself.

“God?” he chuckled as he held a hand out. “Nah, you can just call me Daniel.”

You shook his hand with a laugh, feeling like it was a sound he was used to hearing from everyone he spoke to, and gave him your name in return.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Daniel started to say and you immediately began to shift uncomfortably on your feet, “but you’re beautiful, and it’s late, what are you doing out on your own?”

“Oh, I was out with my girlfriends and on my way home when I saw these and I kind of, had to, follow them…?” you trailed off and looked back at the dark path you had wandered down, less and less lights illuminating the way home. “I guess I should be going.”

Daniel followed your gaze to the darker end of the road and hated the thought of you walking it alone. Shoving his camera into his hoodie pocket, he offered his elbow. “Care for some company on this fine evening? My mother would throttle me if she knew I let a lady walk home alone at this hour.”

You chewed your lip as you debated his offer. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Only at breakfast.” You took a sudden step back and he screwed his eyes shut as he berated himself. “Sorry, sorry, terrible joke. Terrible timing. I meant Cereal Killer…because I eat cereal for breakfast…I’m sorry.”

“That is not funny,” you said despite laughing. “I watch way too many Netflix shows for that.”

His head tilted to the side and caught the colours of the leds around you as curiosity filled his playful smile. “Have you seen that Formula One show on there?”

Your nose wrinkled at the idea and shook your head. “Sports isn’t really my thing.” Trusting your gut that he was safe enough, you looped your arm in his and set off down the road.

“Then what is your thing?”

“Books,” you admitted, suddenly shy though you had no reason to be. “My friends actually refer to my apartment as ‘the library’. If I didn’t have to work to buy more books I don’t think anyone would see me again, I would just hole up and read.”

“There’s worse ways to spend your time,” he joked with a grin you were starting to think was perpetually painted on his face.

“Yeah, I could watch Formula one.” His smile faded and his laugh puttered out, making you instantly regret the joke. “I can hardly make fun of your thing when I’ve told you mine.”

“I don’t actually watch F1,” he admitted as he stopped walking and you turned to face him. “I’m too busy racing.”

“Racing what?”

He blinked a few times and his lip twitched with a smile when he realised you were genuinely confused. “I race cars…in F1…for McLaren.”

You waited for the punchline to come but for the first time since meeting him, he was serious. “Oh, oh! Okay…wow. I guess that’s why I felt like I recognised you, I must have seen you somewhere. God, I feel stupid.” You laughed to yourself and sighed, whispering under your breath, “you’ve been reading too much romance.”

“You’re not stupid,” Daniel said quietly. “I feel it too.”

Your laugh was an unladylike snort of disbelief. “Don’t be silly, you don’t even know me. You don’t even know my last name or what I do for work.”

“But I want to, if you’ll give me the time to learn. Not that it matters what your job is, you aren’t your work.”

“What if I’m an escort?”

“Are you an escort?”

“Would it matter?”

He was momentarily stunned and you saw him worrying his bottom lip and he thought of an appropriate answer.

“I’m not, but obviously it would matter,” you clarified as you turned and started your walk again. “I’m an admin assistant, not an escort, just so you know.”

“Not a librarian?”

You smiled as you tipped your head back to the starry night. “A girl can dream, but they aren’t positions that tend to come up very often. Even less with everything going digital.”

“You could open your own library, you already have the books apparently.”

You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you stopped outside your apartment complex. It had been easy to get lost in the conversation with him and you almost continued walking just so the evening didn’t come to an end.

“Apparently?” you giggled as he opened the front door for you. “Do I have to prove it to you?”

He followed you to the elevator and leaned against the wall. “Is that you inviting me up?”

It was daring and absolutely unlike you but when you looked into his eyes you knew you wanted to see more of them so you found yourself asking, “Would you say yes?”

His smile grew as he reached for the elevator button in response and hit it.

Monday morning rolled around too soon and you struggled to pull yourself out of bed to get ready for work. Daniel’s back was to you as he hugged his pillow, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed, and you saw the slightly raised marks of your nails over his tan skin.

The weekend had been better than any of the fictional tales that filled the rooms in your house. You hadn’t even left the apartment, too engrossed in each other's company to face the outside world. But that would change as you climbed out of bed and started your usual Monday morning routine.

“Good morning, angel,” Daniel greeted sweetly as he snuck up behind you and kissed your cheek.

You held up the piece of toast you were eating and let him take a bite for himself. “Can I have your number?” he asked after finishing his mouthful and watching you dart around the small kitchen, packing a little lunch to take to work.

“For what?”

“So I can give it to telemarketers,” he joked as he caught you around the waist. “No, so I can call you.”

“This weekend has been…magical, but you’re a famous race car driver, and I’m, well, just me,” you said softly. “I’m under no illusion about how this ends, Daniel, we live in two different worlds.”

“That’s just a cop out,” he argued, picking up your phone and calling himself so he had your number. “I’m going to prove you wrong.”

Three Weeks Later “Daniel’s here to see you.” You looked up from your computer to double check Jess was talking to you and found her grinning like a fool. “I can’t believe he’s actually here.”

“Who?”

Jess reached for the half empty cup of coffee she had made you and sniffed it. “Did I give you decaf? Girl, wake up! You don’t keep a man like that waiting. The PA’s are already sniffing around him.”

Pushing your chair back, you rose at the threat of the PA’s who loved to dote upon any man who had a seven figure salary. Two of the glorified assistants longed to be on Love Island and their entire personality could fit in the extremely large breasts their ex-bosses had paid for - right before the sexual harassment charges were filed. Yeah, you weren’t going to leave Daniel to fend for himself.

Leaving the back offices, you followed the scent of knock-off Marc Jacobs to the reception area where Daniel smiled and joked with the small crowd surrounding him. You were once again struck by how different your lives were, his in the spotlight and yours anything but. It was only as you moved closer that you saw how the smile didn’t reach the creases around his eyes and heard the laugh that didn’t come from deep in his belly.

“Alright, ladies,” you interrupted the group with a wave of your hands, “thank you for keeping Daniel company, I’ll take it from here.”

A few overly keen females pouted as they stepped away and Daniel cast a grateful smile to you before pulling out the gift he had hidden behind his back. It took a second to realise why the bouquet of roses looked strange but then the confused frown was replaced with a smile as you accepted it. Every rose was made of origami, carefully folded and shaped into the blossom and you quickly recognised the lines of Pride and Prejudice, arguably the greatest romance novel of all time.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you held the meaningful bouquet to your chest.

Daniel was all too aware of your curious co-workers still hanging around the area and dipped his head closer to yours. “There’s this angel I’ve been missing, and I just needed to see her again.”

The gesture, the words, it all made your heart skip a beat but you quashed the feelings that arose with it. “That is stalking.”

His laugh was genuine and your smile grew when you saw his reach his eyes as he corrected you, “That is romantic.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you sniffed the paper roses. “Did you spray these with your cologne?”

“The book came from a secondhand store and it smelt like mothballs, which wasn’t the vibe I was going for. I think I smell better than mothballs.”

“Wait, you made these!” Surprise floored you as you looked at them with a new appreciation.

“With a little help and a lot of youtube,” he grinned proudly. “I would have come sooner but it took three weeks to make them all.”

The effort he made brought tears to your eyes and you hurried to blink them away. The man was absolutely relentless in his belief that the connection between you could become something more, but you still struggled to accept it. It wasn’t because you weren’t attracted to him, no that had been instant from the moment you met, you just didn’t understand how someone as famous as him could settle for someone as plain as you.

“Surely you have better things to do with your time,” you said after swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Than thinking of ways to win your heart? No way. So…can I please take you out on a date?”

Your eyes traced the roses, scanning the lines from the pages of one of your favourite books. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Daniel made you laugh, he could always make you laugh. The late night phone calls that interrupted your reading time replaced the silence in the apartment with the sound of your laughter. But would it be enough to close the distance between your worlds?

Your eyes followed another petal and felt it resonate within: Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.

“One date,” you said as you tore your eyes away from the flowers that only seemed to call to you more, begging to find more sweet sentences among the folds. “And nowhere public. I want to actually be able to talk with you, not get swarmed by fans.”

“I can do that,” he said with a wide grin before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He started to leave but he stopped as you softly called his name, looking over his shoulder from the doorway.

“Thank you for these, Daniel. No one’s ever done anything so sweet.”

“It’s just the beginning, angel,” he winked, disappearing out the door as you hid your face in the flowers that smelt just like him.

Crap, you sighed to yourself. He was worming his way into your heart, just like he planned.

#daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 rpf

845 notes · View notes

onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

tipsy • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, drunk/tipsy (consexual) sex

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), multiple orgasms (reader), wee bit fingering, banter, unprotected sex and cumming inside, and them just being tipsy drunk and so sickeningly in love 🤢 as always pls lmk if i missed smth

WC: 3.5k

A/N: thank you for your utmost patience @katetattoolover 🥺❤️ I hope this finds you well and you enjoy this, I adore you <3 as this is a request, there isn't a taglist FYI my tagging lovelies 🫡 anyways I think I lost my touch but I hope y'all enjoy this after not posting for a hot second

"What's two minus one?"

"… One?"

"Yeah, you're my number one and the love of my life."

Drying off your face, you sneak a peek at your boyfriend staring intently into the large mirror of your shared bathroom. "Are you flirting… with yourself?"

He gasps, affronted. "No! 'm in a very committed relationship with someone special, thank you very much. Can't you see?"

When his arm waves vigorously to the side, all you can do is stick your tongue out at your own reflection he's gesturing toward. "Yep, that's me!"

"No, you're a figment of my imagination trying to seduce me. Kept staring at me all night, 'm not stupid."

"That's 'cause you're hot."

He was. Seokmin's best look was a white dress shirt and jeans. And the way he kept loosening the buttons as he relaxed further into the evening with more and more glasses of alcohol made him all the tastier. How could you not stare at the man that was all yours?

"You're a demon," your partner continues to grouch and then turns to face the real you with a very, very serious look on his face. He's lucky you're just starting to sober up enough so you won't accidentally burst into laughter, at least cognizant enough of his feelings that were extremely fragile at the moment. "Now this is the real thing."

Brushing back dark wet bangs with your fingers, you can't help but smile when he leans into your touch. "I'm just a thing?"

"No! You're more than a thing… you're… you're…"

You can practically see the gears struggling to turn in his brain. "This is why I told Jeonghan to stop topping off your glass 'cause look at you now, baby, you're so drunk."

"'m not drunk, 'm Seokmin."

"Yes, yes you are."

"And I was excited."

"You were."

"And I'm so so so so proud of you."

You gaze into his shiny brown irises that hold galaxies of love for you. The same ones you kept meeting as they followed you around the room after Joshua pulled you away so the group could congratulate you properly for all of your hard work. Looking at you with so much pride and adoration that you returned, causing your friends to jokingly gag at how in love you both were. The beautiful eyes that crinkle up in a gorgeous eye smile when you've had a long day, gauging your movements with concern to try and provide whatever comfort he can.

Those lovely and familiar orbs now look like they might shed tears at any moment.

You pat his flushed cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I just love you lots."

"I love you too, Seok, so don't cry." You stagger back when he buries his face in your neck, thrown off by the sudden weight because you're still a little tipsy yourself.

"'m not crying."

"Maybe we should go lay down now?"

He nods and releases you from his grasp — thankfully — and you can't help but chuckle at the mixture of water and tears that shine on his skin. After wiping them away, you take his hand in yours and lead him into the bedroom.

"Why don't you seem drunk?"

"'Cause someone kept drinking from my glass."

"I'll beat their ass."

You quirk an eyebrow at him teasingly. "So you'll beat your own? Kinky, didn't know you were into that."

His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he shouts, "That's because!", before clearing his throat and repeating quieter. "That's because 'Han kept filling it up when you weren't looking."

"Yeah, he was a real gremlin tonight, probably had everyone drinking double what they should be while Cheol and Gyu only enabled it by splurging on a crap ton of alcohol."

In the end, no one really meant any malicious harm. They wanted to celebrate with you and Seokmin at your house, bringing over a truckload of food, drinks, and a vast amount of different shit only twelve men plus their partners managed to get their hands on. Still, over half of them had passed out before midnight and it took well until two in the morning for the entire crew to sober up safely and leave a little bit ago.

Even the waters you and Seokmin had been sipping on since didn't alleviate the buzz that still rang in your ears. However, that didn't really matter as you tumble into bed together. It was soon drowned out by muffled giggles and eventual light snores when you both dozed off.

You wake up not much later, feeling extra warm. The covers have all ended up wrapped and tangled around you. Seokmin must be feeling the same, the robe he'd had on earlier discarded on the floor. Shirtless, his bare back facing you is illuminated by the moonlight slipping through the curtains. As if under a spell, you can't help but reach out and trace light circles along his shoulder blades with your nails.

"You up?" he asks and turns to sleepily smile at you when your movements halt, "hi."

"Hey, you."

"I'm hot."

"Yeah, you are."

"No," he pouts, "I'm like super warm."

After placing a hand on his forehead, a frown slightly turns your lips downwards because he is heating up, sweat glistening at his hairline. "Are you feeling okay? Here, let me go get you — "

"Stay," a warm hand grabs at your arm before you can move away, "make it better."

"That's what I'm trying to do, doofus."

"Mhm, but you know how you can help me, right?" Seokmin brings your fingertips to graze along his chest with a lazy grin. "You'll make me feel alright again, yeah baby? Do it for me?"

He's released his grip but your fingers continue to trail downward, snorting as his smirk grows wider. "If you wanted to get sucked off so badly, all you had to do was ask."

"I did tho, didn't I?" His eyelashes flutter when you start to play with the waistband of his boxers. "I was a good boy, right? You always know what I need."

It's a little ironic, really. Although you're simply teasing each other, it's very rare for your boyfriend to give in to his own wants and needs, even during sex. He's a pleaser, a giver, and a dedicated lover. So, it's no surprise to feel an overwhelming ego boost when he's pliant beside you, asking sweetly for your touch with puppy dog eyes no one can resist.

"You're always so good to me," you assure and lean to peck at his lips, minty breaths mingling together. Then you're marking his jaw with kisses that trail down his neck, underneath his pecs, past his abs, and lower and lower until you're sliding off his boxers. "Gonna treat you like you deserve, baby."

His soft "thank you, love" melts into a desperate whine when you finally unclothe him and wrap your hands around his cock. It lies hot and heavy against your palm causing you to instinctively lick your lips, jaw already aching. Meeting his lidded gaze that's simply waiting for your next movement, you can't help but giggle when he raises an eyebrow at the mischievous way you smile before blowing lightly at his hardening length.

"Hey!" Seokmin yelps, hips jerking up in shock, "what was that for?"

"Just cooling you down, babe."

"Don't tease me," he huffs in indignation before lifting his pelvis up on purpose, brushing the head of his cock against your bottom lip. "Please."

When the love of your life begs so sweetly like that, who are you to resist? Licking the smear of precum left behind ignites a hungry spark that glints in your eyes — and you give into what you both want.

Your tongue eagerly laps up the leaking salty excess as your lips wrap around his sizable girth. Alternating between sucking, licking, swirling, and even grazing your teeth carefully along the underside of his cock as you work him deeper and further into your mouth. It's sloppy and pornographically loud. No rhyme or reason with the way your brain is still muddled with the faint buzz of alcohol and sleep, mixed with a lot of good, horny feelings.

Seokmin loves it best that way… if his whimpered praises are anything to go by.

"God, baby, look how gorgeous you are like this. Treat me so well always, love you so much, shit… best thing that ever happened to me."

Head thrown back to display how his Adam's apple bobs when he feels the way your throat constricts around the tip before you pull off slightly. His hips unapologetically take on a mind of their own, gently thrusting back and forth to hear more of those pretty gagging sounds you make for him.

It feels too good and he's afraid he won't be able to stop. Seokmin knows you'll tap his thigh if you need a break but you're as far gone into it as he is. Moaning freely, pussy clenching painfully around nothing, and drooling saliva that leaks all the way down his balls. You don't want him to stop, crazed by how he's using you like his perfect little toy to get off.

But he pulls away all too suddenly — mainly to let you breathe — but before you can reach back out to take him into your mouth again, he's pulling you up by your shoulders. Stealing your breath again but this time with a kiss. Gently soothing your abused mouth with soft licks and pecks, humming in contemplation.

"This what I taste like?"

"Mhm, pretty yummy, huh?"

Your boyfriend thinks it's sexy that you like it but — there's something he obviously enjoys more. "It's alright, I guess… I prefer having you on my tongue instead, though."

You should've known what was coming next but you still squeal in surprise when he's urging you out of your sleep shorts and underwear. Muttering something about "gotta eat this pretty pussy out" before he's commanding you to sit on his face.

You're a little caught off guard by the delay of his pleasure but all you can do is obediently position your thighs around his head, slipping back into the standard mode of operation that Seokmin usually revels in anyways.

One of your hands flies out to support your weight, gripping onto the headboard while the other threads through his bangs because your man might be a little too excited to stick his tongue inside.

"Aw baby," he practically growls, "look at how nice and wet you are from just a little sucking on my dick." The vibrations cause you to shiver and you feel his lips quirk up in a devious smirk at that. "Cute."

His tongue runs along your folds with little kitten licks paired with harsh sucks. He's awfully eager for someone who has eaten you out many times before but that's simply because he's addicted. The groans Seokmin makes put your earlier noises to shame. You might've been embarrassed if your own loud moans weren't drowning him out.

"Fuck, Seok… you're so good at this," you pant and rock your hips, grinding down just a little.

He grunts in approval, appreciation, and acknowledgment. It's more than true. Even when he was new at giving oral, his efforts and features made up for whatever uncertainty he held.

You would continue to suck him off while he ate you out if possible. But the way his nose brushes and nudges against your clit just right as it always does… you've never thought to switch up positions. What a shame, really.

It takes everything in you to lean back. Seokmin is none the wiser, thinking you're only shifting in the heat of the moment for more enjoyment until your hand fumbles for his cock behind you. He jolts at your touch, tapping your thigh. You struggle to lift up, barely any strength thanks to your trembling thighs.

"What're you doing?"

"Wanna jerk you off."

"Yeah?" he snickers, naughty fingers stroking your outer pussy lips to gather up your wetness before slipping inside to replace his tongue for a bit. It's the absolute fear of potentially crushing his windpipe that prevents you from ultimately collapsing (and maybe the strong hand on your hip). "But I wanna feel you wrapped around me and I don't mean your hand."

"What are you gonna do about it then?" you challenge. As if the smirk on his face doesn't exist when you clench tightly around his three fingers at the mere mention of his cock inside you. They curl up to brush against the bundle of nerves that causes you to writhe in pleasure.

Seokmin watches you with a lazy grin. Although love always shines in his eyes, lust is overtaking that wholesome glimmer with a carnality that has you shaking without even reaching a climax yet. He knows this and relishes it.

"What am I doing about it? Hmm, I think I'll have to make sure you cum at least once so you can take my dick properly. Gotta loosen you up, like the loving boyfriend I am." His fingers begin moving at a rapid pace, taking you by surprise. With a squeal, you nearly drop right down on him. "Isn't that right, baby?"

"Ah…. yes!"

He nudges you forward a little bit, satisfied with your response. Pulling his hands away from your body completely, you feel the bundle of nerves snap just as he releases his grip. Your orgasm hits the minute Seokmin's lips meet your lower ones and you both moan in tandem. Loud enough to rival a porn star when he starts sucking like a heathen and laps up the wetness that spills out of your hole with your release.

You clamber off of him — very ungracefully — and flop down on your side, trying to catch your breath. "You're insane."

"You love it."

"Just because you think you're right, doesn't mean you have to say it."

Seokmin grins and licks his fingers clean before they softly cup your cheek. When he turns to face you, his cock slaps lightly against your thigh, reminding you he hasn't cum yet. But he's in no rush, leisurely kissing you before it deepens and you taste each other on both of your tongues.

"I'm always right," he mumbles, tongue brushing across your lips, "because you do taste the best between the two of us."

You slap his arm. "Stop!"

"You didn't deny it so I win."

"Do you want to fuck around and not have sex or would you rather I go to sleep?"

"Now, now," he chastises sweetly and nudges you so your back is pressed tightly against his firm, broad chest. "Be nice, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes. "I can't with you, oh my go — "

But your "Omigod" changes from annoyed to breathless when his large, warm hand fondles your chest while the other teasingly nudges the tip of his cock between your folds.

"What were you saying?" Seokmin mocks in a sickeningly sweet voice but you can only moan in response. "Uh-huh, that's what I thought."

He's tortuously slow. Although, it's not entirely on purpose. He's still too out of it to have the energy to change positions and even as much as he enjoys watching you bounce yourself silly on top of him, he figures you don't have the strength to do so.

But this is somehow even better. You gasp, feeling every single thick, long, big inch of him enter you while pressing hot kisses against the back of your neck.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs once he's bottomed out. The two of you stay still like that, simply reeling in the emotional connection — emotionally and quite literally — wrapped in one another's warmth. "My love."

"I adore you. Sometimes. More often than not."

He chuckles. "Is that so?"

After a while, you're wiggling your hips and signaling to your boyfriend that he can move if he wants to. You're honestly impressed with his control, wondering how long he plans on prolonging his raging boner. Not that you're complaining. You're more than happy to cockwarm him at any time around the clock. But it has to be slightly painful to stay hard for that long.

Seokmin's thrusts aren't rushed but they're by no means set in a smooth, consistent rhythm, betraying his desperation. It might just be the alcohol canceling out any sharp movements and it makes you consider having sex a little bit more often this way. Indulging in an open-mouthed kiss that's equally as relaxed and sensual as his pace, you could almost fall asleep again in the most delicious way.

But of course, Seokmin is having none of that.

"You can give me one more right, baby?"

"Mhm."

His hand leaves your breasts, easily finding your clit. Playing with it languidly, just enough that you're buzzing with anticipation but not enough to tip you over that edge quite yet. Your partner likes to think that he knows your body extremely well by now. And he thinks he enjoys finding out how you respond in this position, pressed against him in such an intimate way.

He loves eye contact, the expressions you make on your pretty face, the way you grip and mark up his back and biceps with your nails. But now, Seokmin can feel how you tremble in his arms, the tiny shift in movements when you unconsciously grind your ass across his abs every time you take his cock deep inside your perfect pussy. Fingers tugging on the tiny hairs on his neck, encouraging him to nibble on the top of your shoulder.

And when — oh, god — when you release the grip on his strands of hair and place your hand over his that's remained stationary the whole time on your hip bone, interlocking your digits together — he thinks he might cum on the spot.

Both his balls and heart are heavy and full of an incredible amount of love for you. He admits it repeatedly in your ear, thrusts turning more into a sloppy, erratic mess as he gives into chasing his high.

"Adore you so much, god, you're everything to me. You know that right?"

You grip the bedsheets with your other hand when you feel yourself start to jostle and slide upwards at his movement. "Love you too. So much, baby."

"Can you cum for me one more time, my pretty love? Soak my dick so I can fill you up nicely?"

"Yeah, I can. I can do it."

Your tongues tangle again, this time with a bit more aggression as you both help each other reach that peak. You reach your second climax first, not as intense as before but enough that you're clenching so tight around Seokmin and dripping down his aching cock as asked that he has no choice but to finally snap and let go.

The sounds he makes are pussy-fluttering, a breathy, drawn out moan directly in your ear followed by a low, satisfied grunt. His hips never falter until every drop is spilled inside, filling you up just as he promised. It's as warm and thick as the alcohol working itself out. You feel drowsy and sated in the best way possible.

Your dedicated, hard working lover must feel the same because he hasn't moved. Of course, he hasn't let go of your hand, body clinging to yours, softening cock still inside you as he sighs in content and nuzzles your neck.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yeah."

You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he doesn't let go. "Seok, we need to clean up."

"'m tired."

"Well, Mr. Sleepyhead, we can rest after."

"We already showered, though."

"A cold one will make you feel good." Despite the way Seokmin still feels extremely hot to the touch, little goosebumps prickle along his skin at the mention of a cold shower. You pat his forearm. "I'll help you wash up."

"Okay."

It's a relief he acquiesces, knowing it would be difficult to escape his grip if he decided not to budge. His cheeks are still flushed cutely but you have to snort at the way his skin manages to glow so handsome and perfectly with that after sex, post-orgasmic effect.

"No shower sex," you threaten.

He pouts. "I dunno what you're talking about. 'm literally too tired to even move. Who knows, you might be the one to jump me."

"I would never! Besides you're the one who's always surprising me but either way you're going to have to get up." You roll over and stand, pulling at his arm when he refuses to release his grasp on your hand. "C'mon, babe."

"Alright, alright." He's about to make a comment of how energetic you are until he sees you wince and limp a bit toward the bathroom. You know he knows but choose to ignore his smirk. "Does sex help prevent hangovers?"

"I have no idea but I've heard it's supposed to help with headaches."

"Let me know if you have one tomorrow."

"Seokmin!"

"'m just saying."

"You're gonna fuck me either way. But we're sleeping in, it's already like five in the morning."

"You're right. On both accounts."

You hand him a glass of water with a scowl. "You can be so annoying."

"But you love me."

"Lucky that I honestly really do. Now come here so I can wash your hair."

"Yes, yes right away, love."

onlyseokmins: Novemeber 2022 ©

#ez.creates #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #svthub #kpop smut #kate 🥝#ez.mootz #1k 🌟#svt.smut

2K notes · View notes

bongo-clash · 2 years

Text

Peacock Au Part 1

Okay so Big Huge credit to @stealingyourbones for letting me do my own take on their amazing eldritch Danny idea!!!! This started out as me just doing a drawing but then I ended up with a whole DPxDC fic that I'll be posting the part two for at some point!!! Anyway, here's the vague designs:

And here's the part one of the fic under the cut!!! :D (Edit: Part 2 is Here!!)

There’s a Lazarus Pit forming underneath Gotham. Normally, this would not concern John Constantine at all, because it’s Gotham, therefore Bat territory therefore not his problem, and honestly he has his own things to worry about. Unfortunately for him, however, the infamous Dark Knight has somehow gotten it into his head that he can do something about it and, Hell, he’d said it would be a ‘big favour’, which meant the man really must be desperate; had to have been in the first place, he supposed, to have even bothered with John in the first place.

Still, he’d almost kind of forgotten what a huge mess any kind of favour for Batman could be, and thus, he now holds possession of a book that is probably going to get him killed.

Whether the actual book itself wants to kill him is up for debate, but Constantine has read the contents of this particular Book of Summonings and nothing in here seems remotely safe. He’s absolutely going to be hiding this away somewhere deep in the archives of the archives of the Justice League watchtower with an incredibly pointed ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ on it once he’s done with this, but for now, it’s the only thing he’s got in the way of sorting out this Pit problem.

There’s an entity that exists, this book claims, that keeps the balance between realms. ‘Closes doors’, apparently, and the doors the pages depict certainly look like a Lazarus Pit. This is brilliant news, obviously, but the book doesn’t describe the entity itself at all beyond that; barely any of the other entries are as vague as this, and that plus some of the frankly bizarre sigils he’s having to draw to summon the damn thing are giving him no comfort. The only remotely comforting thing about it is that the ritual doesn’t require any blood- which either means the entity is benign, or it wants something more valuable than blood.

…Okay, maybe not that comforting, actually.

But, before he can consider that maybe this wasn’t his best idea and backing out would be for the best, the sigils flare with light, and Constantine squints to keep track of the way they activate, desperate for any indication of what he’s managed to summon with that stupid book.

His feet feel feathery against the ground, like they’re barely tethered by gravity and just waiting to float away, and perhaps the seeming lack of atmosphere is fitting with how dust like stars lift from the summoning circle, bringing with them intercepting layers of purple-blue-pink-white, galaxies and nebulae being peeled off the floor. It comes with a sound- something whistling, almost. Seeming hollow, between a shriek and a bell ringing, or maybe more musical than that. It seems to change every moment he tries to focus on it, as if it’s something his ears can’t really hear but his brain is desperate to process, painful to try.

And then, the entity begins to form.

Unnoticeably at first, a white glow drifts forming in the centre. It congeals as Constantine’s gaze finally fixates on it, layers forming like jellyfish trails, or flowers, or peacock feathers with runic circles at the tips, fading smaller and smaller as they reach the centre, and a thing akin to a body unfolds into view at the front, a centrepiece. A child’s image of a shadow in opalescence, a strange curving feature where a neck might be, and searing-green spots of varying sizes scattered along the space where cheeks and eyes could’ve been, fading up and down across the lower-half of the ‘face’ and into the ‘hair’. He barely understands what he’s looking at, but maybe that’s the point.

The sound of a thunderstorm rings across the room, and the curve of the neck unfolds, and it’s an eye, and the tips of a thousand twisted, cosmic peacock feathers become eyes as well, if they weren’t always. They move, wavering, either lashing or flickering from visibility.

“And what is this?” The voice is a kaleidoscope, echoing off and from every corner of the room, and when they speak, infinite eyes become infinite mouths, too many teeth barely contained by the edges of what seem vaguely like frostbitten lips. To have something even remotely human suddenly etch itself onto the entity is somehow worse than the parts he can’t comprehend. “Who are you, to have summoned me, and seem so afraid?”

Constantine wishes, maybe for the first time, that it hadn’t been an obligation to do this alone; he’s never wanted Batman or one of the Light members with him more than now. It’s a difficult thing, almost impossible, to shake off the speechlessness. It’s a wonder that it’s possible at all, with how the room seems to have been twisted into a vacuum. “I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”

“The pits. There are many pits.”

God, this is creepy. “The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. …I heard you can take care of them.”

“I can smell its blood between the gaps of atmosphere, encircling. You, whose soul is bound in so many directions, who may be pulled apart like meat in time- can you sense it? Does it draw you?” John doesn’t know how this- this thing knows that, but he’s scared asking will invoke some kind of consequence, and more and more he’s wondering why the Hell he decided to do Batman this favour. He feels exposed.

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”

“Yes.”

“…Will you fix it?”

The chill is getting to him. Goosebumps are running across his arms like a livewire, and he’s never doing anyone a favour ever again. The entity makes an approximation of a hum, his ears shriek with whale song and stars, and after a pause, everything switching up and down on itself, the peacock eyes form into huge, reaching hands. For a second, Constantine’s whole body freezes with terror, because he’s petrified the thing’s going to grab him, but then the arms tumble phasing into the ground, and the green spots on their ‘face’ flare with a supernova glow and they make another piercing noise, chiming or trilling.

A long moment later, the hands slowly return to the entity’s back, and fade into the peacock feathers or jellyfish bells or whatever they were before, blinking at him. “It is gone.”

“Uh… cheers?”

“It will not return, but this place shall see its dead for some time. Try not to look.”

This is maybe the worst day of Constantine’s life. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”

“That is up to you.” They say, and though the eyes that appear briefly between sentences bely or reveal no expression, it feels scrutinising. “What is it that closes doors? Is it alive?”

He hates riddles. He hates riddles and he hates cosmic horrors and he hates eldritch entities and he hates Batman for getting him to agree to this horrible favour. He wants to go back to the House of Mystery and pass out for long enough that this whole thing becomes a dream. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”

“I know of your Bat.”

Oh dear. Constantine’s stomach sinks like a shipwreck into the Mariana Trench, but the entity moves on like they’d never even said it. “I will recede, and find you in time, perhaps both. You will know when I am coming, and I will find my recompense.”

And just like that, their whole form shimmers into clouds and pearls and smoke and mirrors, and they fade back into the runes that summoned them like tap water down the drain. The galaxies they’d formulated within the confines of the room fold back in on themselves and turn to whispers and then nothing, but the feeling persists on his skin long after weight has settled back onto his bones. He hadn’t known a thing like that existed until now. He doesn’t know what it can do, doesn’t know how all-encompassing it truly is.

And he owes it a favour.

Crap.

#I'll be posting the part two at some point soon since it's already written out so prepare for that lmao!!#Warning that there might be some mistakes in here since I literally just wrote this and the second part a couple hours ago #This is a Little bit of a thing about my hc on the Ghost Monarchy and how it isn't Actually a monarchy #It's just that the 'king' keeps the actual physical balance of the GZ (ie natural portal stuff) & the title originally had a different name #But when Pariah Dark took the mantle he decided it made him the ruler of the GZ and that's why the Ancients took him down #But I'll talk more abt that if I ever get around to finishing that GZ culture/history/evolution post thing I had planned lmao!!!!#Either way I Love Eldritch Danny sm and writing this was so so fun!!!#Part two will be from Danny's perspective!!!#I might colour those drawings and stuff at some point but for now I like them as they are!!!#Also before I forget I Am still thinking about that pizza delivery guy pt. 2 I just got stuck a bit!!! It'll hopefully appear at some point #dp au #danny phantom au #dpxdc #john constantine #danny phantom fanart #dp fanart #danny phantom #Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#Bongo's Art!!!#tw body horror #peacock au

2K notes · View notes

mandos-mind-trick · 8 months

Text

Dream of You

Summary: You know things. Things you shouldn’t. You knew about the clones, about the Republic’s army long before the war started. You knew about their training, you knew about attacks and battles even before they happened, long before the rest of the galaxy knew about them. Your only regret is not saying something sooner.

Pairing: Echo x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, slight aftercare, angst, war, Echo's "death", slight description of medical stuff, paranoia, depression, very brief implied mention of suicidal thoughts, fluffy, happy ending, Soulmate AU

A/N: Did I intend the last two soulmate fics to have similar links...not really. It just happened this way. Also, this is the NSFW Echo soulmate fic, the one with ace!reader is coming shortly. I'll be making a post when I'm close to finishing that one. I really struggled with this so sorry if it's garbage. Echo was not musing for me this time around.

MASTERLIST

Blaster fire.

It’s all around you, though that was fairly common for your dreams. You’re not sure where you are. You can’t see anything defining, nothing that would point out where you are or what you’re doing.

“This is our only chance. We’ve got to stop him.” The voice echoes in your head. It’s coming from you. It’s your voice.

You rush forward, grabbing a shield from the ground despite the bolts being fired at you. You rush towards the shuttle, firing at the droids in an attempt to secure it.

“Echo look out!”

Before the words register in your mind, before you can react you’re flying, being thrown forward by a wave of heat and energy.

An explosion.

The sound registers in your ears as you hit the ground. It’s dark, wherever you’ve landed. The pain begins to register as the shock wears off. Your whole body feels as if it's on fire. You can feel your pulse in your legs and arms, blood on your tongue. You can’t move. Even if you wanted to, even if you tried to call out, you can’t.

You’re dying.

****

You wake with a scream. Tears are gliding down your cheeks, and have been judging on the dampness of your face. You’re shaking uncontrollably, breaths coming in hyperventilating gasps.

Your soulmate’s going to die.

A hand lands on your shoulder, shaking you gently. “You alright?”

You’re still hyperventilating, your brain refusing to respond. You’re soulmate’s going to die. Your soulmate’s going to die. It’s the only thing you can think of.

“Look at me.” One of your fellow medics, Zena, kneels down on the other side of you. You like Zena. You’d consider her a friend. “I need you to breathe, otherwise you’re going to pass out.”

She’s right. You can feel the tingling in your hands and feet and face as the carbon dioxide in your blood rapidly decreases. Zena takes a deep breath, holding it before letting it out. You try to mimic her, slowing your hyperventilating until your breathing is semi-even, broken only by the occasional sobs as you continue to cry.

“What is it?” Zena asks, sitting on the edge of your bunk. “What’s going on?”

“E-Echo.” You stutter out. “He’s...he’s go-gonna die!”

A sympathetic look crosses her face. She’s one of the few that know about your soulmate, an ARC Trooper stationed with the 501st named Echo. You’ve never met, at least in person. You share a unique connection with him. Every time you sleep, you dream of what your soulmate will experience the next day. It started about eight years ago. You knew things about the GAR, about the war, long before it started. You’ve dreamed of battles that have happened since, things you shouldn’t know. Things that would get you arrested and sent to interrogation.

It was what led you to sign up to be a medic, the hope that you might by chance run into your soulmate. Of course, you hadn’t known back then about the rules, the Kaminoans and the GAR forbidding the clones from forming links with their soulmates. The more you learned about the clones, the more angry it made you at the GAR.

Zena squeezes your arm. “Maybe...maybe Commander Bly could help. He could alert the 501st command or something.”

You scrub a hand over your face, smearing tears all over your skin. She’s right. Maybe...maybe things aren’t hopeless. You’re risking a lot. You’ll have to reveal your connection to Echo. If anyone finds out, he’ll be forced to reject you. By saving him, you might force yourselves apart for good.

It would be better than losing him permanently.

You throw the covers back, sliding your feet into your boots. “I need to find the Commander.”

You’ve only spoken to Commander Bly once, while you patched his wound after a battle. You didn’t interact with command much outside the med bay. You were so far below their ranks. Your job was to patch wounds and keep injured troopers alive long enough to receive care. You were about to step so far out of your zone, but if it might save your soulmate’s life, then it will be worth it.

You’re out the door of the bunks in a flash, before anyone can bring into question your course of action, before you can really question your decision. You head to the bridge, the first place you can think of as to where Commander Bly might be.

You’re stopped at the doors before you can even get inside. “Authorized personnel only.” The trooper says.

“I need to see Commander Bly.” You say, putting as much authority in your voice as you can.

“He’s busy.” The trooper says.

“It’s an emergency.” You say. “Lives are at stake.”

The troopers at the door share a glance before one steps inside. You only get a quick glance through the doors before they’re closing again. You stand there and wait for what feels like too long, before the doors open, the trooper returning with Commander Bly in tow.

He seems far more imposing now than he had when you’d patched his wound. You had been running high on adrenaline, patching trooper after trooper for hours after the battle ended. The adrenaline made you more brave. You could use some of that now. Right now all you have is desperation.

Commander Bly leads you to a private room, your heart pounding in your chest. How were you going to tell him? How were you going to make him believe you? You’d have to spill, you’d have to tell him the truth and hope he believed the same as the other clones about soulmates. You’re risking so much, but if it saves even one life, perhaps it will be worth it.

“You think someone’s in trouble?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nod, taking a deep breath. Your hands are still shaking, still rattled by your dream. “It’s the 501st, sir.” You push the tears away, not wanting to cry in front of your Commander. “Something’s wrong, something’s going to happen.”

“And how do you know this?” He asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow at you.

“My...my soulmate is with the 501st.” You say. “We share a dream connection. I-I had a dream last night. He’s going to die.”

Commander Bly stares at you for a moment before he sighs, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“Warn them. Contact them. Something!” You say, raising your voice a bit. “There has to be something that can be done.”

He shakes his head. “The 501st is on a campaign right now. No warning I could send is going to change what happens. We have to do our duty first.”

Tears blur your eyes at his words. Of course it was foolish to think you could stop one clone from dying. You shouldn’t have bothered. Now you could be reported to GAR officials.

“I’m sorry.” The Commander at least has the decency to sound sympathetic. He puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “There’s a shuttle leaving for Coruscant in less than an hour. I’ll put in the leave request paperwork.”

You feel defeated. That’s it, then. There’s no swooping in and saving him, no way of preventing his death. Maybe this was the way it was always supposed to be. Fate wouldn’t give you a soulmate you weren’t going to meet.

So what does that say about you?

You drag your feet back to the barracks, packing your things silently as the tears slide down your cheeks. You feel numb, like your body is already preparing for the inevitable pain. It was going to happen today. You don’t know exactly when. It’s almost worse.

You find the shuttle, boarding it without a word. You squish yourself in between two crates, pulling your knees to your chest as you wait for the soul-crushing pain of your soulmate’s death to hit you.

***

You’ve been on Coruscant for two days. You’ve fluttered in and out of sleep, tears, and a deep numbness that prevented you from doing much else besides sitting and staring out the window of your hotel. You haven’t dreamed once in the many hours you’ve spent asleep. It’s all been dark, black, a void of nothingness.

Was this what it felt like losing a soulmate?

No one could ever fully describe it. They said it was horribly painful, like a piece of them was dying and decaying and it left a gaping hole in its place that never fully healed.

You certainly feel like one big gaping hole.

There’s been no pain, no soul-shredding feeling. Just numbness and emptiness. Perhaps it’s different for everyone. Perhaps your brain had blocked it out to save you from the pain of having to feel part of your soul dying.

On the third day they arrive.

You had managed to drag yourself into the shower, and you answer the door with dripping hair. Two members of the Coruscant Guard stand at your door. They ask your name and you confirm it. You’ve been summoned to the GAR headquarters.

You already know what this is about.

They let you at least make yourself decent and put shoes on before they escort you to the speeder. You’re not under arrest, which is a good sign, but you can imagine you’re headed into an interrogation. Someone had spilled on your link, on your knowledge of things you shouldn’t have known. Was it Commander Bly? One of your fellow civilians?

You’re not mad.

You’re far too numb to feel anything that strong.

You’re escorted into the building and led through the labyrinth of lifts and halls. You’re left in a room with hardly more than a table and chairs and an overhead light. You lower yourself into one of the chairs, trying to prepare yourself for your impending interrogation. You can only imagine the things you’re going to get asked about.

You’re not sure how long you wait there in the plain, windowless room. It feels like an external representation of how you feel inside. You can’t even bring yourself to feel nervous when an Admiral joins you in the room.

He asks your name and your station, questions you can easily answer. You know you can’t lie. Getting caught in a lie isn’t going to help you any, and besides, why would you lie now? Your soulmate’s dead. They can’t do anything about it.

“Having highly confidential information about the GAR and its battles puts you in a precarious situation.” The Admiral says.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” You say. “After all, my soulmate is dead.”

“Yes, what a pity. The loss of clones is an unfortunate aspect of the war that the Republic has no choice but to accept.” The Admiral says, no sympathy in his tone whatsoever. “You could have been a useful asset. Perhaps if we had known, things could have gone differently.”

Your hands ball into fists, sudden rage boiling under the surface. It’s the first thing you’ve felt in days. You know it’s not true. They wouldn’t have risked anything to save Echo. He’s just another clone to them. Another faceless body to throw in front of a blaster.

You’re shuttled back to your hotel and left at the door like nothing had happened. You’re still burning with rage, your body clinging to the first emotion it’s been able to conjure in days. You want to flip the table in your room, destroy the bed, break a window, something. You don’t have that kind of money, though, to pay for those damages. Nor do you want to put some poor housekeeper through that.

Instead you drop on the bed and let out a scream into the pillow. The rage begins to boil down to tears, your sobs muffled by the dampening pillow. You cry yourself to sleep, drifting back into a state of numbness.

***

It’s cold. You can’t see anything, you can’t hear anything. All around you is cold and dark. You can’t move, you can’t feel. You’re numb. The pain is gone, replaced by nothing. Nothing but numbing blackness in the cold around you.

No, wait. You can hear something. Something off in the distance. It’s getting louder, echoing in your mind.

CT-1409.

***

You can still hear it when you wake.

CT-1409.

You blink the tears from your lashes, sitting up on the bed. It’s night, the city illuminated outside the window. You haven’t been asleep long. You’d been in the GAR headquarters longer than you thought.

CT-1409.

You rise from the bed, moving towards the window, looking down at the city as far as you can, until it disappears into the cloud of haze that separates the upper and lower levels. You suddenly back away from the window, all but punching the button to close the shutters. It cuts off the only light, bathing the room in complete darkness. For half a moment you expect the cold to come seeping back in.

CT-1409.

You need to get off Coruscant. You need to get out from under the eyes of the Republic. You need to hide. You need to disappear before they make you.

CT-1409.

You use your savings to purchase a ship. It’s a piece of junk, but it has hyperspace capabilities. That’s all you need. You need to find somewhere remote. After that, you’ll figure it out from there. You have little money left, but being a medic means you’ll be able to find jobs easily. You can work anywhere. Someone’s always looking to hire medics.

You just need to disappear from the Republic.

*** 2 Years Later ***

You’re still dreaming.

You had dreamed of the frozen darkness most out of everything. Occasionally you’d get more. Strange noises, things spoken in a language you couldn’t understand. Occasionally you’ll see flashes, images. You can never quite make them out.

You think it might be your brain trying to get used to dreaming its own dreams again. Or perhaps it's your brain's way of trying to make up for the loss of your soulmate. The numbness has slowly faded into the background, though it hasn’t really left. You found a remote planet to live on, one far from war. You got a job at the medical center in a small town, the job almost boring compared to the heart racing adrenaline inducing insanity of the war.

You don’t mind. It keeps you off the radar.

You’ve built a decent life here in two years. As decent a life as you could, at least. You still feel empty and lonely. That longing feeling for your other half hasn’t left. The fact you know you’ll never get to have him only makes it worse.

You cry more than you’d like to admit. You understand now why people don’t last long when their soulmate dies. You’d hardly call this living. More just simply existing.

You have considered it. You can never quite bring yourself to. There’s always something in the back of your mind holding you back. Sometimes you wish you were brave enough.

It’s one of those nights when it happens.

***

It’s dark and cold again. It feels different this time. Something’s happening, but you’re confused.

Suddenly the darkness is gone, and you’re staring at what seems to be a control room.

“We-We have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel.” The voice echoes in your head. “No! I’ll go first!”

“Echo.” Another voice says. “Echo, it’s Rex. I’m here.”

A face enters your vision. You know that face. You’ve seen it many times. “Rex? You, you came back for me?”

“Yes.” He looks guilty. “Yes I did.”

“What, what happened? Where am I?” Your gaze swings to look around the room.

“It’s okay, Echo.” Your gaze is drawn back to Rex. “You’re safe now. Just sit tight trooper. You’re going home.”

***

You startle awake, tears sliding down your cheeks. You stare at the wall across from your bed in disbelief. It can’t be...but it had felt like the other dreams.

Has he been alive this whole time?

Had he somehow survived the explosion? It would explain the other dreams, the lack of pain at his passing. Had your suffering been simply your own creation because you thought he was dead?

Has he been alive this whole time?

Your dream means he’ll be getting rescued today. Hope blooms inside you that it is true, that it is really a dream of what’s going to happen. Many feelings flood you for the first time in a long time. The numbness is pushed away as emotions bubble within you. You don’t know whether to be happy or worried or sad or relieved. All you can do is cry. Again.

Of course, you’ll have no way of knowing if it really does come true. You have no connections in the GAR anymore, and you can’t risk them finding you. You did sort of desert the army and break your contract. You know a prison cell is waiting for you if you go back.

Fate won’t give you a soulmate you’ll never meet.

You’re not entirely sure you trust fate. It’s put you through the wringer, but with this new development, that could change. Maybe you will find your way together after all.

You call out of work, knowing you won’t be able to focus. You hardly leave your bed, thinking over the dream, over the fact your soulmate is alive. The longer you lay there, the faster the regrets start seeping in. What if you hadn’t left the Republic? You could have found a way to finally get to him, to finally meet him for the first time.

There was no guarantee.

Fate won’t give you a soulmate you’ll never meet. Perhaps it was always meant to happen this way. Perhaps it was better if it happened this way.

***

Your dreams return to normal as the months pass. Dreams of battles continue to be the most common. You see new faces now, faces you don’t recognize in your dreams through Echo’s eyes. Things have changed for him too.

You’ve always wondered what he saw in his dreams. Battles too, you imagined, though different ones than the ones he partook in. You wonder if he ever saw the clones you couldn’t save, his brothers suffering, you attempting to save their lives.

Your dreams must seem very boring now.

You wonder if he had still dreamed of you during the period of...whatever had happened to him. You wonder if he feels relief seeing how different your life is now. You wonder what he thinks of you.

You wonder if he even wants to meet you.

You shake those thoughts away, burying yourself in your work at the medical center. You don’t want to think about it. Rejection was still a strong possibility. Between the war and the GAR and the fact that not everyone wanted a soulmate, he could still reject you.

You force the thoughts away, focusing on your dreams instead. Watching what he’s doing, making sure he’s not going to die again.

Then the war ends.

Despite the war being over, chaos still ensues in the galaxy. You don’t trust the Empire, and that distrust only continues as your dreams continue. You watch the things that happen to Echo, and his eventual desertion. You’re helpless to do much but watch the events that transpire.

You wait patiently, biding your time as Echo and his squad try to find their place in the galaxy. It feels almost wrong to have such a front row seat to the goings on in his life despite never having met him in person before. Then again, he has a front row seat to your life as well, though your life is much more boring than his, even now.

As the weeks pass and the disruption continues in the galaxy, your new home planet remains entirely untouched. There wasn't much special about it. No major exports, no convenient hyperspace lanes nearby, no major cities. It's a perfect place to hide.

Echo has also found a place to hide. You begin to see a place popping up in your dreams regularly. An idea begins to form in your head as you learn about the place in your dreams.

Ord Mantell.

Cid's Parlor.

You could easily find that place. Ord Mantell's not far from your current home. You could reach it in a matter of hours. All you have to do is take time off work and jump in your scrap pile of a ship.

The idea makes you nervous. What if he doesn't want to meet you? What if he rejects you? Years. Years you've been waiting for this. You spent years thinking he was dead. Now he's within reach and...you're scared.

You dream of yourself that night.

You've already made up your mind, or fate has made it for you.

You're halfway to Ord Mantell before the sun rises on your home planet.

***

Cid's Parlor is a rather seedy place. You've been in worse, but you suppose for a front it's perfect. You take the stairs slowly, trying to remember to breathe. This is the moment. Two years ago you would have been running in and throwing your arms around him.

It's been a long two years.

You enter the bar, the inside not any better than the outside. There's a weequay and an ithorian at a dejarik table, and then the five at the bar. You recognize them from your dreams. Well, you recognize four of them.

You've never actually seen Echo. You were always seeing from his perspective. You always assumed he'd look like the other clones, but then you'd seen the new group he was with and realized maybe they don't all look alike.

You can pick him out in the group by process of elimination. You recognize the other three, having seen them at various points, and then of course there's the girl. You take a long look at Echo, tears gathering in your eyes.

You're so close. So close.

"Echo?" You ask, the bar seeming to go quiet as soon as you say it.

Everyone turns to look at you, brows furrowed in confusion. Echo steps back from the bar, staring at you. He's paler than the others, his face sunken and gaunt. There's a headset wrapped around his head, and you notice the cybernetic right arm.

The furrow of his brows lift into shock, his eyes widening as he stares at you. He whispers your name, almost too quiet for you to hear.

You're moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around him. He's solid and warm and his plastoid chest plate digs into your skin, but you don't care. He's real.

His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you against him.

"I-I didn't think..." You sniffle, a tear sliding down your cheek. "Two years! I thought you were dead."

He lets out a chuckle, his hand sliding down your back. "Yeah. Everyone thought I was."

You pull away as a throat clears beside you. Your cheeks warm a bit. You'd completely forgotten the others.

"Echo...care to explain?" The one with the bandana, Hunter you think, asks.

Echo slips his arm back around you, holding you against his side. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my soulmate."

The guarded look on Hunter's face lessens just a bit. You hadn't expected to be welcomed with open arms and trusted immediately. Not after the things you've seen.

You get introduced to everyone, and you find yourself sitting at the bar, telling Echo all about yourself. Where you came from, how you joined the GAR, why you left, where you wound up. He knew a lot already. He'd dreamed of you occasionally during the two years you'd thought he was dead. He hadn't really understood what was happening during that time though. To be fair, you hadn't either.

You talk a bit about them, filling in some gaps in your understanding of what was happening to them.

"We need somewhere to lay low for a while." Hunter says.

"Well, I just happen to know the perfect place." You say. "It kept me hidden from the Republic and there hasn't been even a glance from the Empire so far."

"It's out of the way of most hyperspace lanes." Tech says, typing away at his datapad. "No major cities or ports. Mostly self-sufficient. Nothing anyone would be interested in."

You shrug. "It's not much, but it is safe."

***

"We're going in that?" Echo asks as you stand next to your ship docked at the port.

"Hey, don't hate on Bertha." You pat the side of the ship, something clanging inside. "She helped me escape the Republic."

You lower the ramp, having to fiddle with it as it sticks for a moment. Echo gives you an incredulous look but you wave him in. She may be a bit temperamental, but your ship has a special place in your heart.

"Tech will have a heyday with this one if you let him get his hands on it." Echo says, taking the copilot's seat.

"Well, he's more than welcome if he gets bored." You say, firing up the engine. "Can't make her any worse." You grin at him, giving the control panel a solid smack to stop it from rattling.

Echo doesn't relax until you're in hyperspace. You don't take it personally. You had been a little nervous flying the first time but though she was prone to rattling, Bertha flew perfectly fine.

You turn to look at Echo as the blue of hyperspace surrounds you. You reach out, pressing your hand to his cheek. His skin isn't as warm as you'd expect, your brow furrowing a little.

His hand lifts, resting against yours. Your thumb strokes his cheek, reminding yourself that he's real. He's right here with you finally.

"Echo...what happened to you?" You ask.

And he tells you. You spend the entire trip listening to his story. He starts at the beginning, explaining things you knew and many you didn't. You listen to it all. The good, the bad, the heartbreaking.

You cry for him a few times. Cry for the pain and the misery and the torture he's faced. He wipes your tears, dampening his glove but he doesn't seem to care.

You talk almost the entire flight, catching up on years of missed time. Echo only slightly clings to the seat as Bertha drops from hyperspace and you begin the hour flight to your home planet. It's slow going, Bertha not exactly made for speed.

The others are already there when you land, by no surprise. Though your home was small, you could offer them a roof over their head until they found something more permanent.

If they decided to stay here.

You try not to think about that too much.

"Glad you made it." Hunter says, eyeing Bertha as you and Echo step off the ramp.

"Not you too." You make a face. "She flies just fine, she's just got creaky joints."

You can already see the wheels turning in Tech's head as he eyes Bertha. You lead them inside, showing them your small house. You only have one spare room and a couch but they assure you they can just sleep on the ship. You feel bad, but then again you hadn't really been expecting this when you ran from the Republic.

You hadn't expected a lot to happen.

You make dinner, probably the first home cooked meal they've had in a long time, or possibly ever. Echo hovers in the kitchen but you don't mind. You like having him close after all this time. You're still a little afraid you'll turn around and find he's gone. Like he's been a figment of your imagination this whole time.

They leave you and Echo the house for the night, and you can tell by the look on Hunter's face it's deliberate. You hadn't really considered that but you knew anything could happen after you meet your soulmate.

You find Echo in your room after you finish cleaning up. He's standing next to the bed, tracing the carving on the wall.

CT-1409

You'd carved it after hearing it again in your dream. You'd been half dazed, repeating the number over and over in your head.

He turns to look at you, fingers resting in the center of the 9. Your cheeks warm a bit, not having thought about that. You just have his designation number carved in your wall. You might as well have his name there.

"I did that after I heard it in a dream." You say, approaching the bed. "I couldn't get it out of my head." You crawl onto the bed, kneeling next to him. "I put it there because it felt like in a way you were still with me, though I know now you never left."

He drops his hand, turning to face you. He looks a little guilty. "I'm sorry for putting you through that."

"Don't apologize for something you couldn't control." You say, putting your hand on his scomp arm. "You're here now. That's what matters."

He glances down at your hand before looking back up at your face, those big brown eyes shining in the orange light of sunset shining in through your window.

"I made a promise once." He says, staring at you. "To someone very close to me. We promised each other that after the war ended, we'd find our soulmates and settle down somewhere. Get married and have families. Grow old together far away from everything else."

You smile softly at him, gently guiding him to sit on your bed with you. "Well, I'd be more than happy to help you keep your part of the promise."

You sit with him, talking late into the night. There's no rush now. You have all the time in the world.

***1 Year Later***

"Just a pinch of this." You say, blindly holding out the jar of spice.

It's taken from your hand and set on the counter, your ears picking up the small clink of metal on tile. Hands grip your waist from behind as you stand on your toes to reach the second shelf of the cupboard.

"You know I can reach those easily." Echo murmurs in your ear.

You grin at him over your shoulder. "I know. I also know you love looking at my ass."

He practically purrs, hands sliding lower. "I do love your ass."

You press back into his hands, one flesh, the other cybernetic. He'd ditched the scomp a few months ago now that he's retired to a boring civilian life.

"We don't have a lot of time before they get here." You say, straightening up to try and slip out from where he has you pinned to the counter.

He presses against you harder, hands moving to trap you between him and the counter. "They can wait for dinner." He breathes into your ear, pressing his half-hard cock against your ass. "I want dessert first."

You bite your lip, letting out a strangled moan as he grinds against you. "At least turn the burner off." You breathe.

Echo presses a kiss to your neck before he pulls away, reaching back to shut off the stove. You turn in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he turns back to you.

He pins you against the counter once more, molding his lips against yours as his hands trail back down your sides. You deepen the kiss, pulling him even closer. You can feel him, fully hard against your stomach now.

His hands grip your waist, easily lifting you onto the counter. One of your hands slides up to tangle in the curls that have regrown over the last few months. He groans quietly against your lips, hands parting your thighs for him.

He steps between your legs, your skirt riding up around your waist, revealing your panties underneath. His fingers rub the damp fabric, teasing you before he tugs them aside, meeting your flesh.

You moan into his mouth, pressing your hips into his hand as he circles your clit. You're already worked up just from kissing him, the familiar heat igniting under your skin from his touch.

"Kriff." You breathe against his lips, grinding against his hand. "Make me feel so good."

He hums contently against your lips. "Good. You deserve to feel good."

You slip a hand down his front, palming him through his pants. "I'd feel better with you inside me, though.".

He grins, pressing one more steamy kiss against your lips. "Yes, ma'am."

You shriek as he tugs you right to the edge of the counter, holding you steady with one hand while the other pulls his cock from his pants.

You wrap your arms back around his neck as he presses close between your legs, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. You moan quietly, playing with the ends of his hair as he slowly presses into you.

He groans, pressing his face into your neck as he slides into your warm passage, your body wet and ready for him.

It never gets old, the feeling being so connected to him invokes. Your very soul seems to hum with pleasure from being so close, so connected. You wrap your legs around him, holding him as close as you can as he settles inside you.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips as you sit in the moment for just a second, savoring the feeling before he begins moving. His thrusts are slow yet deliberate. They reach deep into you, the tip of his cock brushing that spot inside you over and over.

You won't last long, you know it as your legs begin to tremble around him. You moan against his lips, hands fisting his shirt as he picks up the pace just a little.

You whine as you cum around him, milking his own orgasm from his body. He moans into your neck, holding you tightly as he spills into you.

You stay still, just breathing and feeling each other for a few moments. Your hands gently massage his neck and his shoulders, easing the ache you know he feels from his cybernetics sometimes.

He presses gentle kisses to your neck, not enough to leave marks but still enough to pull quiet sounds from your lips.

He kisses a trail up your jaw to your lips, both of you pausing at the knock on the door.

"Hunter's gonna know." You murmur against his lips.

"He probably already does." Echo says, kissing you once more. "Probably heard us halfway down the street."

Your cheeks warm as he pulls away from you, fixing his clothes before helping you look presentable as well. You turn on the stove once more before pulling out the disinfectant spray.

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry @ladytano @freesia-writes @dangraccoon @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @stunkbiggu @endofthexline @padawancat97 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @rosechi @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @maddiedrmr @gwalchmai2970 @clonemedickix @anxiouspineapple99 @idontgetanysleep @originalcollectionartistry @thrawnspetgoose @thorsterstrudle @littlemissmanga @sinfulsalutations @dystopicjumpsuit @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @blueink-bluesoul @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #clone wars #clone wars fic #tbb echo x reader #bad batch echo x reader #clone trooper echo x reader #x reader #clone thirsting

307 notes · View notes

wonillaa · 1 year

Text

mistranslation (?)

ni-ki x reader

summary; you ask your friend who has been secretly crushing on you to help you with learning japanese, he attempts to make you believe he’s taught you the word bro when it actually means love. he fails.

warnings; smd joke.. that’s all

genre; fluff

note; hi i don’t know japanese so if i’m wrong on the meaning or misusing the word ai please let me know 😭 also for my ✨ anon!!!! thank you for requesting <3

to niki, no one else compared to you. as soon as he got your text, "hey, can you help with my japanese?" he canceled on sunghoon and told him he has better plans now.

"jay canceled on me too, is there something going on that i'm not invited to?" sunghoon raised his eyebrow at niki, questioning him. "there's no plans, i'm just hanging out with a friend" his mouth goes dry. "yeah ok..." sunghoon scoffs out a laugh and heads back to his room.

when you showed up at their front door he had to swallow his heart that was climbing up his throat. "hey yn, come in" he smiles and steps to the side. "hey. look at all this," you hold up your worksheets, "i hope it's fine, i'll buy you dinner" he shook his head. he’d never mind if it was you "that’s fine, can’t say no to free dinner."

an hour into the worksheets and niki started to get bored. listen. he's thought about the fact you wanted to learn his first language a million times, and he's overanalyzed your reasons over and over again. in the middle of practice he'll think about how you ask so sweetly about new words and phrases and it makes him want to lay down and cry, so he's decided he's no longer thinking about it.

"ok...next," he clears his throat, "how do you say let's go do something more fun" you scoff and look at him. "what's more fun than this..? now teach me how to say suck my dick” he fake gasps and turns to you. “like i’d give you the power of knowing that, absolutely not”

another sheet later and now he’s really bored, and if you’re joking around he will too. he does feel a little bad, but what you don't know won't hurt you…he thinks. before he can prank you into calling him pretty whenever you see him, “how do i say bro?” you ask. he’s never been the best at poker face, his smile dropping immediately, frowning like a sad puppy. “it’s ai.” he lies before he can even think about it. he thinks it over and comes to terms with telling a small lie won’t hurt. but his cheeks feel like they’re on fire as you say “ok then ai, let’s watch a movie or something, my brain hurts.” he doesn’t notice your mischievous smile as you put your worksheets away. “yeah, sure.”

your legs occupy his lap as you’re both invested into the movie you’ve decided on, guardians of the galaxy 2. you’ve both seen it plenty of times together, so you think it’s fine to break the news now. “hey niki” you whisper. his eyes don’t leave the screen. “ai?” he whips his head towards you with an open mouth. you raise your eyebrows, “uh…yeah?” his voice cracks a little. “do you think i’m stupid” “what? anyways. rocket’s on the screen now lets chat another time”

you sigh and rethink everything. is he serious? he’s the one who started this, why is he basically telling you to back off? “i know what bro is, idiot” you frown and pull your legs back in to curl under your blanket. “oh.” … “yeah oh. why are you messing with me” “why didn’t you tell me you knew i was messing with you” he throws back, trying his best to not laugh out of discomfort. or cry. “whatever, i’m telling you i know now,” you frown, “tell me what ai means. are you making me say something weird?” “you’ll have to pry the meaning out of my cold dead mouth ai”

you decide to let it go and pay attention to the movie. until your mind won’t shut off and you remember you can just look up the translation. you lower your phones brightness and quickly look up google translate, typing the word in. the word love loads onto your screen and your eyes shoot up to the boy across from you.

“riki are you in love with me” his eyes shut and his mouth opens in disbelief. “what?” “i know you are! why else would you try tricking me into calling you love?” you laugh and kick his leg. “it was just a little goofy joke- don’t even look at me. and stop laughing!” he groans and covers his face with a pillow. “don’t get embarrassed now…i feel the same about you anyway.”

747 notes · View notes

feelbokkie · 11 months

Text

[12:10 AM]

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff drabble

pov: 2nd person

description: Drawing on Felix’s freckles. Inspired by the last text in the Random texts with bf!Felix.

pairing: Felix x reader

warnings: none?

word count: 359 (unedited)

"Felix, stay still. You're going to make me mess up." You whine, grabbing both sides of his face and pressing a kiss to his forehead

"It tickles, Y/n." He whines back.

You're currently straddling his waist, coloring his face with your makeup. It originally was supposed to be an innocent moment of connect the dots with Felix's freckles. He lets you do it from time to time, but was tired of walking around with permanent marker on his face, so he insisted on you using eyeliner. Unfortunately for him, you started seeing patterns and constructed a full-fledged art piece on his face.

"I'm almost done, I promise. Just have to sign it." You look over your work one more time, confident in your vision. You grab a tube of lipstick from your make up bag and put some on your lips before pressing them into the corner of your artwork, effectively signing them with a kiss. You grab your phone, take a picture, and climb off of Felix.

Felix gets up from the bed and heads to the bathroom to admire your handy work as you clean up your makeup from the bed.

"Woah, you painted an entire galaxy on my face!" You hear him call.

"I just painted what I usually see in your eyes." You say as you walk into the bathroom. Felix is holding his phone in his hand, taking pictures of his face.

"You don't have to use cheesy lines, you already have me."

"It's not a line, it's the truth."

"Okay Shakespeare, I believe you. Hand me a makeup wipe?"

"Sure," You go under the cabinet to grab one of your wipes only to find the spot empty. You silently curse to yourself, remembering that you ran out a couple of days ago.

"We're out,"

"No problem, I'll just use good old soap and water."

"Lix, it's waterproof."

"Seriously? Y/n, it's midnight and I have an early morning."

"I know! We can still use soap and water but it'll take longer."

"Okay, okay."

"It would have been easier if you let me use the permanent marker."

"I don't see how that's possible."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Permanent Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you

@berryblog @jaydebow @junebug032 @boiohboii @heistheavatar @lieslab @rainbae-anon @k-cock @hamburgers101 @mrswolfiechan @soulboundauthor @weird-bookworm @thisisnotjacinta @seungmyynie @halesandy @kpopsstuffs @honeydew93 @dandycharmer @stay278 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @babrieeee @brain-empty-only-draken @tenmii @tattywood @blueforte @jihanlovic @felixglow @alyszaen @nuronhe @jihanlovic

173 notes · View notes

omniblades-and-stars · 6 months

Text

The Way

Part i. | Part ii. | Part iii.

It starts out simple enough. Respect, admiration, builds brick by little brick.

It's in the way she reaches to shake his hand with a wide grin on her face. "I'll take all the help I can get, Detective Vakarian," she says as they walk out of Dr. Michel's Clinic.

"No problems working with a turian?" He asks.

She brushes vibrant, copper toned hair behind her ear and says, "Not at all. Am I supposed to have a problem working with turians?" As though she's been hiding under a rock since she was born. As though she doesn't know how tense turian-human diplomacy can be at times still. He soon learns that she knows, she just thinks it's very stupid to hold onto grudges from a war she had no part in. She probably has a point.

She always has a point, he learns.

"No … uh, I mean … no." He also soon learns that she has a way of making him trip on his tongue.

It's in the way she leads, always from the front. She is confident, she issues commands with careful consideration. She's slow to reach for her gun, but Spirits, when she does … Well, he's glad he's not on the receiving end.

He's going to have to go to the range and get some practice in. Something about seeing her handle a gun ignites the competitive streak in him. He wants to make sure he's a better shot than her.

Or maybe he just wants to be better because of her.

It's in the way she can be so boastful without being arrogant. She calls herself a biotic bomb. At first, he thinks that smirk as she says it is cocky, and it is. But then he sees her in action. With biotics like that, she doesn't even need a gun. He knows the smirk isn't cocky, it's knowing.

She's earned being cocky, the way she wields the forces of physics themselves. How the air shifts around her body just before she ignites brilliant indigo. The sudden change in air pressure around them as she reaches out to pull an enemy towards them takes his breath away.

Or maybe it's just her that does that.

It's in the way she has time to listen to everyone. She takes time to stop and help mediate petty arguments between strangers, or promise to help people who should probably be asking someone with less saving-the-galaxy on their shoulders. He doesn't understand how she has the patience for it, though, no one has ever accused him of being patient.

And she makes the time to come and check in regularly with the whole crew. Including him. "Shepard, need me for something?"

She playfully pounds the side of her fist against the Mako a couple of times, "Just checking in. What're you doing to the old girl?"

"Adjusting the shock absorbers in the suspension. You really pulled a number on this thing."

That goofy grin of hers spreads across her face, widening her cheeks, and brightening the whole cargo bay. He just knows she's about to make a bad joke. She loves bad jokes. "I like to ride 'em hard and put 'em away wet, Vakarian."

He's not familiar with that particular human idiom, but it sounds like he should be blushing. He's glad turians don't blush as obviously as humans, but he is all warm in the neck. "Help a clueless alien out, what does that mean?" He manages to force his mouth into talking while his brain races to get caught up.

"Only that I'm rough on my gear. Leave it absolutely wrecked when I'm done with it," she says with raised eyebrows and glinting, mischievous, green eyes. He doesn't think she's talking about her gear. Her gear is always immaculate. She laughs at herself so hard she snorts. Which only makes her laugh harder. "Well, don't fuck her up, Vakarian," she says once she gathers her wits again.

"I think that's your job," he quips, earning the surprisingly sharp point of her elbow in his carapace, but she's still smiling as she walks away.

He likes it when she smiles. How it creases in her eyes and she bares her blunt teeth. How it's always accompanied by the darkening pink on her cheeks and nose.

It's in the way she turns fear and terror into something to conquer, not hide from, and the way she doesn't pretend not to be scared. The ground beneath the Mako rocks, and if it weren't for the horrendous, earth-shattering shrieking preceding the explosion of dirt and rock as the thresher maw bursts from beneath, he could pretend it is just a localized earthquake.

"Shit!" She shouts and her hands clench around the steering controls on the Mako. Her eyes dart around, wide and full of anxiety before they stop on him. "Vakarian, trade with me. Keep that thing chasing us. I'm going to send this mother fucker to hell, for Toombs!"

By the end of the fight, she's laughing. The kind of manic, breathless laughter that follows an adrenaline packed close call. She slumps in the gunner's seat, panting. She's smiling, but he can see the shine of tears staining her cheeks. She doesn't try to hide that she's crying.

He finds out who Toombs is a few weeks later. She thought he was dead.

He understands now why she needed to be the gunner. Now, every time they feel that tell-tale rumble, they trade spots without a word. And they laugh together as they narrowly avoid slaughter by horrible, alien worm-monster. Wrex is the only other one who laughs when they do this. The others are usually plastered to their jump seats, pale and nauseous looking as Garrus whips the Mako around, gunning those forward boosters like their lives depend on it.

They definitely do.

Huh, she sure takes him with her on her ground team a lot.

It’s in the way she shows mercy, or tries to, anyways. It kind of drives him crazy, but he respects her for it.

“And so he dies anyway, what was the point of that?”

She holsters her gun and turns, wrapping her hand around his forearm. “It’s on us to try to do the good thing. We can’t control how people like Saleon’ll react to it, but we still have to try. That’s what matters.” She’s looking up at him with somber, tired eyes.

“Yeah … I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Commander,” he says as her words tumble through his mind, slowly taking root.

“I’m nothing special, Garrus. I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like everyone else.”

She’s wrong about that, about not being special. He’s pretty certain that she puts her pants on one leg at a time. Well, actually, he’s never thought about how she puts her pants on … until now.

He thinks it’s suddenly gotten very hot in there.

It’s in the way she manages to almost always stay positive, even in the face of near constant setbacks. How she reassures everyone, and they believe it, that they’ve got this. “We’ve got him on the run, Garrus. We keep fucking up his plans, we’re going to catch up any day now.” She cocks a teasing eyebrow, “His ship may be scary and look like some horrible squid-finger thing, but mine’s faster. He doesn’t have racing stripes like we do.”

“Racing stripes?”

She bumps her shoulder into him with a laugh, “Yeah, we paint stripes on our racing cars. Makes ‘em go faster.”

That can’t be serious, can it? Sometimes, he really doesn’t understand human humor. She’s watching him trying to calculate, figure out how in the world what she said makes any sense. He can see the slow creep of her smile widening before she bursts into laughter.

“Come on, Vakarian! Where’s your sense of whimsy?”

It’s his turn to laugh. “A turian with whimsy? I may be a bad turian, but I think whimsy might be too far, even for me.”

“Ah, but I did get stuck with the one turian who thinks he’s funny, huh?”

He nudges her back, as they stand side by side, staring at the damage she’s done to the Mako most recently. “You think I’m funny too. Don’t pretend you don’t love my jokes. I hear you laughing.”

She snorts, “Yeah right, those are pity laughs, Vakarian.” She’s blushing. He likes it when she blushes. It spreads like a wildfire, hot on her freckled cheeks, all the way down to her neck.

He wonders how far it goes past that.

He tries to tell her something … but he stumbles on his own words, because for the life of him, he can’t figure out what he means to say. So instead he just says, “Commander, I wanted to thank you.”

“What for, Garrus?” she asks as she looks up at him with those rosy red cheeks and sparkling green eyes.

He panics, because he can’t get his brain to piece a coherent thought together, and because his mouth ran away without him again and he doesn’t remember where he was going to go with this. “For everything,” he says rather lamely. It’s not even enough to convey the gratitude he feels. And it definitely isn't what he means to say.

Why does she make him so nervous?

It’s in the way she handles losing one of her soldiers. “I’m sorry, Kaidan,” she says, gripping the rails on the bridge so tight, she might find a way to bend the space age alloy with her bare hands. “I’m here, keep talking to me.” She stays on the commlink until everything goes to static. He can tell she feels the loss deep in her bones, with the way her shoulders sag, and her jaw clenches. A soldier’s duty is to be willing to die for their military, but she doesn’t throw her people away like cannon fodder.

He’s there when the Council grounds the ship, and she breaks. Her gear locker slams shut right before she drops against it. She slides to the deck, curling over her knees, and she weeps so deeply, he can feel it full in his own chest. “It meant nothing if we can’t stop Saren, if the Reapers come,” she chokes out bitterly.

He crouches in front of her, resting his hand on her back. He can feel the quake in her shoulders, the hitching sobs in her lungs. “We’re going to stop them, Shepard. We’ll figure it out, together.”

They stay like that until she catches her breath and she looks up to him. Her face is red, blotchy, cheeks wet with tears, and some horrible clear goop she calls snot is coming out of her nose. And he doesn’t care. He thinks that he can feel their shared world shift. It feels like she sees him as an equal, not just some underling or subordinate, to let him see her like this.

It feels like maybe she always felt that way about him.

“You’re right. We can’t give up.” She wipes her nose on the sleeve of her fatigues before taking a deep, shaking breath. “Let’s send that Reaper motherfucker to hell, Vakarian. Together.”

“Together.”

It’s in the way she’s victorious. She has Saren cornered and desperate. And somehow, despite everything, she offers him a hand up. Tells him that he can find redemption, that he doesn’t have to be a puppet. Saren doesn’t believe that he can be saved, but it matters that she tried.

Even if the fight after is a horror show. On the list of things Garrus thought he would ever do, having a showdown with the reanimated, robotic shell of a former Spectre was nowhere on it. Wasn’t on anyone’s list, he suspects.

And then it happens. In the midst of one victory, the worst kind of complication rises up. She’s clenching her jaw again as she makes a decision that should not be hers to make. And he doesn’t understand it.

But he respects the hell out of her for it.

The people who say humanity just take and take have clearly never met someone like Commander Shepard. Or her compatriots in the Alliance Navy.

Perhaps they both gave too much, he thinks. But there’s not enough time to dwell on it as pieces of Sovereign fall into the Council Chambers. They make a valiant effort to run from the destruction, but they get pinned down by rubble.

Just as he resigns himself to being stuck beneath some part of the Presidium that definitely should not be on the ground for the remainder of his soon to be short life, light peaks through, and the relieved countenance of Captain David Anderson appears with a hand outstretched.

But where is Shepard? Anderson just shakes his head, looks grim, he doesn’t know.

And then she leaps on top of some warped support beams with her fists on her hips. She’s got that mischievous little smile on her lips.

Because she’s “power posing” (a word for this ridiculous show of muscles and stature that she’s putting on right now.) He half expects her to say something about how they’re all invited to the gun show.

But then the energetic dip into whimsy passes, and she just looks relieved. She hugs everyone there like she was sure they were all dead. They can take a breath. It’s not over, not really. But there’s time to plan, to prepare. Time to grieve the losses later.

He doesn’t understand what he’s feeling about her then, or after. Sure as he is that it’s just pride in a job well done, relief that a friend and comrade lived through such a terrifying battle, and comfort in the knowledge that even if they can’t serve on the same ship anymore, they’ll keep in touch.

Until it happens.

It’s in the way the news robs him of every sense he’s got. It feels like he’s been plunged underwater. His vision is blurry, he can’t breath, can’t hear, and it feels like he’s struggling through a current just to stay standing.

He replays the news video again just to make sure he heard right. And again.

And again.

He knows now what he wanted to say. Knows what he should’ve seen, in the way she made his neck warm, the way her bad jokes (and mostly the bubbling laughter that went with them) brightened up a room. In the way she looked at him and said, “Together.”

It’s in the way he feels off-balance, like nothing in the world will ever be right again.

It’s in the way it gets harder and harder to bear how quickly the Council, and even her own military, want to brush everything under the rug. How they want to pretend there’s nothing to worry about, nothing to prepare for. Sure, she was a hero, but also, she was kind of crazy, right?

It’s means nothing if they can’t stop the Reapers.

It’s in the way he feels like he can’t make a difference from the false safety of the Citadel. How police work just feels like a farce, and maybe it’s always felt like that to him, but it’s even worse now.

It’s in the way he just wants to make her proud. He just wants to take some evil out of the universe while he still can, wants to help people in the only way he really knows how. He doesn’t mean to become a leader, not really, but that’s what it takes. He has an example of leadership to follow, even if she’s not alive to see it in action.

It’s in the way, in the quiet moments when he’s alone, that he chuckles. “Archangel,” he mutters to himself. It makes him laugh because he knows for a fact that if she were still around, she’d ride his ass for that one for days. Maybe for the rest of his life.

He can see it, her hands on her hips as she laughs deep in her belly. “Archangel, really, Garrus? You sound like one of Joker’s comic book characters. You got a costume to go with the name? I’ll commission you some wings. You want feathers or like some robotic, metal situation?”

He wishes she were still here to make fun of him.

It’s in the way he grieves.

It’s in the way he misses her. Thinks he hears her calling his name sometimes. And when he does, it makes the pain surge again and again.

He wonders if it’ll ever feel less like he lost a part of himself too.

It’s in the way he thinks it never will

#mass effect #fanfic #garrus vakarian #shakarian #look I'm just thinking about them again #the way #daisy screaming into the void

136 notes · View notes

critterbitter · 5 months

Text

(cracks knuckles) alright, let's get to the funnies.

@atxin1 Thank you so much! The lab coat's actually a real coat I wear. Most of my friends can probably recognize me cause I look like a crumpled napkin, heh. @roseworks Oh boy HOWDY. On one side, it's a not a great thing that Litwick's cheerfully stealing bites from Emmet, but on the other hand keeping her with somebody she won't consume like a caprisun's... probably for the best for all parties involved. (I'll shuffle that under comic ideas though!) @coredesignixandnekonee (Chuckles morosely) dude I feel that. I am playing a b2 run with a friend, we're currently eating dirt right now. (larvesta's the oldest baby in the world. congrats!) @candyglumboy Ah sorry, I'm not open to art requests right now. Thank you for asking though! (Blaziken is VERY cool but a tad complicated to draw quickly for me, haha.) @i-do-a-little-drawing You know those dogs that start off as lap dogs and then think they stay lap sized even though, you know, they take up the entire couch? That. That's the energy I wish to go with. (Shuffling THAT into my comic ideas as well! Thank you for your giant galaxy brain good captain.)

#ask #mailbox

63 notes · View notes

spamwmona · 8 months

Text

Rick Sanchez X Reader Through A Screen pt. 1

Rick is literally a walking trigger so I guess beware. Been obsessing over this old fuck more than he obsesses over Prime Rick, so this might be a series. I'm open to ideas and changing things up if anyone wants to recommend shit, I'll do smut too if it makes you all happy. I'm bored and finally have my laptop fixed so I'm back on my shit again. I also work full time, so sorry if things are uploaded late.

He worked quietly, a few belches escaping his throat, never breaking the comfortable silence that filled his lab beneath the garage. You were above ground with his family, making small talk, he was sure, because that was the kind of person he found you to be. You clouded his mind as much as Prime Rick did these days, and he was sure it was sickening. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in weeks, but he could feel the stubble on his face as he dragged his hand down it hopelessly.

He knew taking you would bring Prime here, it was only a matter of time, and he knew he was risking his family's lives, but he was selfish. There were other Beths in the universe, other Jerrys, and Summers, he didn’t need these ones, right? All he needed was You and Morty. There was no one like you two to be found, even if there were multiple Mortys in the universe, this one made him feel something. This one made him feel protective.

What about you? He couldn’t figure out how you made him feel.

Using a piece of your hair he found in his ship, He searched each dimension for another version of you, any version of you, yet there was none.

That's what made you special to Prime Rick, but how did he get you? In a galaxy full of universes so vast, it didn’t make sense unless you died in all the others.

He asked you question after question for the first week, getting nothing but a cold shoulder and glare unless others were around. He scanned your brain, traveled into your memory without you knowing and what he found kept him up at night. That's what led him down this path, deciding to keep you here and search for Rick once more. He hoped Prime valued you as much as he led Rick to believe.

He had to, why else would he kidnap a strange teenage girl off her world and keep her hidden in an invisible lab, drugging her with love hormones? Morty was the one who found you as Rick tried to chase the possible clone of Prime Rick down a sliding tube. He was mocking Rick, just like he always had.

You were banging on a door when you got Mortys attention. Rick didn’t care until the door opened and you fell out. At first, Rick thought Prime was using this as a distraction, but if the clone was a distraction, why have another? Something in his gut screamed this was more serious andbto take you and ditch the place.

So that’s what he did. It took you a lot of time to get adjusted, you were used to being there only to validate Prime. He would often be very loving towards you, leaving you feeling high off of oxytocin, then just as soon as you felt good about the relationship you two had, he’d criticize you, blow up on you, leave you for months without so much of a “HI”.

That was the part you knew, you didn't know he was watching you, making sure you didn't get a scratch on you unless he permitted it.

It was his elaborate scheme to make you feel powerless unless he was around, because more often than not, you were isolated, touch starved and deprived of human contact. It led to delusions and paranoia on your part, along with feeling cold and shut off to the rest of the world.

Rick discovered he was drugging you with a chemical that forced you to feel like you were in love with him, so after a couple days of being away, you started to feel yourself again and realized you had a strong hatred for all Ricks, including the one who “saved” you. You knew it was for his own benefit, that's all Ricks ever cared about.

Rick grumbled and slumped in his seat, defeat washing over him at another failed attempt in locating Prime Rick.

Above ground, the Smith family gathered into the car, realizing they forgot to grab a few things for christmas dinner and decided to have a family trip to the market, leaving Rick and You in the living room setting up more Christmas decorations. You hummed, hanging the garland where the ceiling met the wall, entranced by the beautiful shimmer.

It had been so long since you celebrated anything besides Prime Rick's success at making technology you never cared for.

Rick stood nearby adding snowflakes to the tree. He couldn’t help stealing glances at you, thoughts of your beauty and how nothing could compare to it filled his mind. He was programmed to abide by your every wish, and to keep Morty happy, to think and act like the real Rick but to care twenty two percent more than the original. He felt guilty not being able to tell anyone the Truth, but Morty had already found out, and he knew it wouldn't be long before you did too.

Leaning over a little too far to the side, you gasped feeling the stepping stool wobble, and before long you were squealing out in shock as you collapsed on a pile of pillows Rick shot out of his hand. Rushing to your side, he quickly scanned you with his eye, then let out a deep breath of relief when the scan came back negative for any injuries.

“R-Rick… Thank you.” You mumbled, glancing up at him, then looking down shamefully. You felt a pain in your chest, waiting for him to call you stupid, or make fun of you, a reminder of how superior he was, something all Ricks seemed to have in common. Memories of Prime Rick filled your head, knowing he would have mocked you for making such a small mistake.

“Y-yeah *brugghbb* Are you okay?” He asked, helping you to your feet, eyeing every move you made. He knew the answer already, but your body was tense and he could tell something was bothering you.

“Yeah- no, no, I'm completely fine, thank you.” You smiled forcefully at the pointy haired man. You hated looking at him, it felt patronizing. You were tortured by this man, maybe not this exact one, but by a counterpart of his. You stood up, and began to walk away while dusting yourself off, but before you could take a step forward, he grabbed your wrist, and in turn, you looked back at him, hate filling your E/C eyes.

“Something’s bothering you- y-you were fine before you fell, what's-what’s wrong?” Rick dully stared into your eyes. Keeping a firm, but gentle grip on you.

“Fuck off.” He was caught by surprise by your sharp tongue, not having ever dealt with your bipolar mood swings and only seeing the facade you put up around others. This was the first time alone with the Rick Bot, but in your head,you thought it was just Rick. You weren't aware your savior was beneath ground haunted by his past and drowning in depression and whiskey. You didn’t know enough about Rick to know if that was him or not, you never cared to pay much attention to him, in turn making him angry because he was so used to having all eyes on him, he was so egotistical, and full of himself.

Maybe that's what caught Prime Rick's attention. You couldn’t care for enabling self-centered assholes who believed they were on par with God, even if you didn’t believe such a thing existed, which is funny because more unbelievable things than an invisible man filled your life. Hell, traveling through dimensions is possible, who's to say God isn’t?

Rick let you go, and you rushed off to your shared room with Summer.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rick sanchez x reader #x reader

105 notes · View notes

uneednotknow · 3 months

Text

Vaughn Morozov

Headcannon with fem!OC.

Disclaimer: I do not own Vaughn or any other characters mentioned in this hc, besides the fem!OC, they all belong to the rightful author Rina Kent. I wrote this just for fun, since Vaughn isn't getting his own book and I'm intrigued by him, I'm putting my own thoughts on this.

There could be inaccuracies of how I write the characters but bear with it,please. Crazy, but I haven't read any of RKs works (besides GoP) and so it could be a disaster.

I am aware of his unnamed girlfriend but like I have mentioned, this work is a figment of my imagination and I'm writing this purely for entertainment purposes, so don't take offense to any of this.

Enjoy your read.

Vaughn was presumably mentioned to be17/18 in GoF.

So I'll be writing in and around that timeline.

Vaughn Morozov, Kirill and Sasha's son, heir to the New York Bratva, the future Pakhan, the Pakhan's heir, and so on could be used when it comes to giving a small idea about him.

Being the sole heir and born to loving parents, Vaughn was raised in a family of love, despite the harsh reality of the mafia world.

From a young age, he knew of his future, the legacy he had to continue, the empire he had to lead. Yet, his parents didn't pressurize him about such responsibilities wanting him to live a "normal teenage life" for as long as he could.

But Vaughn, was, well one could say, a thoughtful kid who is mature for his age. He displayed leadership skills from a young age, even when he was with Jeremy or Nikolai and was younger than them, he did not lack behind anywhere. Especially when it came to academic and being a smartass.

Hazel eyes like his mother with dark brown/black hair like his father, Vaughn was blessed with good looks, not Greek God sculpture like but definitely one that would be preserved in a museum just because there was no one else like him. At this growing stage he was tall, maybe not always the tallest amongst The Heathens but his growth spurts were definitely not done growing. Standing a good 6'2 already at the age of 17.

If it was anyone else, one might use the advantage of what he had, after all he has almost everything, the money, the power, the looks, the charm and the brain. But this man is just so uninterested and aloof when it came to dating life or just having a crush in general.

Seeing his mom and dad be in love, Vaughn too desired for it, wondering how it feels to be in love and be taken care by that one special person. And so he thought he was defected for never once experiencing having such romantic feelings for anyone.

Don't get it wrong, yes he is still young but while he has heard here and there from his friends about their crushes when they were little boys. Little Vaughn was curious and frustrated for never being able to experience such fluttery feelings.

So once he got older and got to learn more academic knowledge and just what life had to offer to a 15 year old, Vaughn started expecting less.

"It's just not for everyone." He thought. And with that he just got more aloof on those expectations. He didn't care anymore.

Or so he thought.

What happens when an Earthquake occurs? One's first instinct is to get to safety, maybe an open space or maybe duck and stay underneath a sturdy table. But what can Vaughn do when the 'earthquake' shook his entire world and he had no place to hide. No table too strong to avoid the devoid galaxy of ice cold feelings to finally start thawing.

Okay maybe that was exaggerated. He was just 'intrigued' to know more about a certain someone. Yeah, that's it. Just curious about a particular female, who had bagged a prestigious scholarship to study in the expensive, elite,private school Vaughn goes to.

Why her in particular? There were other scholarship kids in the school too, but it was just her whom he wanted to know about.Well, he don't have the answer to that yet.

Jane Kim. Asian. Black hair. Brown eyes and average 5'4 in height. A bright student, academically thriving and even street smart. She is a hard worker and an achiever. But that didn't mean she overestimated herself or belittled others.

Whatever it maybe, she was grateful to be able to study here. Coming from a working middle class family, with parents working, she wasn't underprivileged but they weren't rich either. So she decided to take the advantage of the scholarship and study and earn a good certificate to support her education even for college.

Being a foreigner and all alone in a big country and even a big state like New York was overwhelming, especially for an introvert like her. Had it been those teen dramas, she might have been a victim of bullying. And with her parents away, living in another country, it might just be worse.

But luckily none of the bullying happened, she had safely passed her freshman year and is now a sophomore in high school. For credits and pocket money, she took up part time jobs in the library near their school and has recently started tutoring the new freshmen batch.To keep her scholarship, she had to work, work and keep on working to maintain her grades.

She was 2 years younger than him and was a class below him. Her being a sophomore and him a junior. And besides that all he did was observe her from afar.

He would never admit it but he would watch over her anywhere she would be in the school premises, like sitting on the floor above her, watching her as she taught the group of freshmen. He was jealous. But poor boy, just don't know it. He just felt a tug in his heart everytime he saw her talk to others, except him.

For her whole freshman year, Vaughn just watched over her, admired her from afar.

The first time they actually had an encounter was during her sophomore year, Vaughn (in his junior year) was playing for the school's ice hockey team.

He saw Jane interact with the rival school's captain, giving him a faint smile and probably wishing him luck.(He dont know that Jane and the other guy goes to the same church and are good friends, their friendship was mostly like a brother-sisterly relationship.)

Oh boy, did that snap something in Vaughn. Frustrated and annoyed to the core, he was a beast on the field that evening. Beating the rival team by a huge gap, and almost caused a physical fight.

And when he saw Jane counseling her friend, it only added fuel to the fire.

He didn't know why he was acting like the way he was, suddenly he was dragging Jane out of the arena, holding his bags and hers all on one of his arm.

Confused and startled Jane stops him, she knew who he was Vaughn Morozov, a rumoured mafia heir, she didn't know whether to buy that rumour or not, being the skeptic she was.

"What the heck? Can you let me go?" She yanks her hand from his grip and snatches her bag from his hand.

Do you know Vaughn is no longer an intelligent person whenever Jane is near him? Yeah, he discovered it just recently too.

"Don't you think it's ironic how you were more concern about the rival team than your own home team?" He says, tone filled with sarcasm and almost like fury bubbling under it.

Jane stared at him in disbelief, annoyance soon filled her face. She wasn't going to answer this stuck up snob, she thinks to herself. Only glaring at him, she push passes him to make her way back to her students apartment.

He messed up. This was no way to make a first good impression, but his pride didn't allow him to correct himself. He didn't say or do anything only watching her as she walked away from him and gosh did she look good even in their royal blue school uniform. He was malfunctioning surely.

So that's how their strange rendezvous started. No, this isn't the 'guy bullying the girl' case. Rather, from that day onwards, Vaughn only made his presence known to her.

He was almost everywhere she was at this point.(as though he wasn't doing that already)

Don't blame Jane for not liking his presence though, that was no way one should behave especially to someone they barely knew.

At first no one really paid attention to the duo.

But after some weeks, the whole school started to notice that wherever Jane was, Vaughn would be there with a minimum of 10 metre radius near her.

Lunch breaks? Yeah, he is either tailing her or just casually sitting in her table. Her friends excited for whatever was to unfold, always teasing Jane.

Whenever she had to tutor the freshmen? He would be on the same floor above her, just watching her whilst doing his school works.

When she goes to her part time job? Yeah, he is busy studying in the same library she worked at. Sometimes he even did her chemistry homework for her. He started doing this when he discovered Jane did not like the subject at all.

Though she did confront him not to snoop around her homework. She preferred to do it herself she said, but he didn't stop.

His parents started to notice that he would be late from school most of the days and he simply told them he prefers studying in the library and finishing his homework there.

"You must be really bored to be doing this." She tells him, noticing that he is always there watching over her. She was uncomfortable at first, the fact that someone was monitoring her always. But she got used to it slowly as he won't do anything other than quietly doing his own work and occasionally having a break time by staring at her.

He will always be there for her, whether she like it or not. All she had to do was call him. His number on speed dial, that he set up himself. Earning a smack on his arm when he did so. Taking advantage of his height as he saved his number on her phone.

Somedays he even helped her stack the books in the library, the upper shelves which she couldn't reach unless she use the ladder. Somedays he held the ladder for her. And he did it without a word. It was weird but Jane got used to his silence.

Some days her buys her coffee or different flavours of milkshakes.

"Eat up, Darling." Is the only thing he would say. And she would glare at him. That was something new. Well, at least verbally because in his head, thats what he always calls her whenever he sees her. She appreciated his actions but that didn't decrease any of the annoyance he brought to her.

He knew she was tolerating his presence not exactly despising it but also not exactly welcoming. So he made sure that as much as he showed his actions, many others were hidden.

Like how he would follow her from a good distance,making sure she made it back to her apartment safely. It's New York, as bright as the place maybe, it could be as nasty too sometimes.

He wasn't taking the chance, he would make sure she is safe from anything and anyone. Lord save anyone who crossed Jane. Because if you cross Jane, you crossed Vaughn.

She is independent and stood for herself, not letting anyone walk over her, so she would tell people off either passive or aggressive or both.

But Vaughn? Yeah, no one is getting off the hook easily if he catches those people who got on his bad side. Not before a good warning.

One thug tried to rob Jane, one evening as she made her way back home, but luckily before he could get to her Vaughn caught the man.

A good punch knocked him out leaving the unconscious man on the alleyway, then he made sure she reached home safe without knowing what could have happened to her.

After that he went back to take the man. Waiting for him to regain his consciousness before 'confronting' him.Let's just say Vaughn had mercy on that man by leaving him alive. One broken rib, two dislocated clavicle, a dislocated jaw and a broken nose and a few bleeding later, the man's battered and bruised body was later found by pedestrians who took him to the hospital.

All is well for Vaughn, if Jane was safe and sound. It didn't matter if he bruised his knuckles or suffered a few punches from that man. Or from anyone in that matter.

Good thing, it's a Friday evening. He thinks as he gets home, not having to explain the bruises to his peers or his teachers. But he had to answer his parents. Who looked at him with wide eyes.

Do I look that bad?

Yes. Yes you do. His tie askew, his shirt wrinkled, his knuckles red, hair disheveled and a cut on his left cheekbone.

Now this is worrisome. Why? Vaughn never got in trouble at school. Sure, he wasn't a golden student but he strayed away from unnecessary issues. He was a gentleman,compared to most men, he knew when not to be gentle. Maybe that's why he stood out a lot, among the mafia men especially.

The next week, Jane breathe a sigh of relief when she realised Vaughn hasn't appeared infront of her the whole day.

That's when she noticed the tall guy, in his Jersey and black sweat pants, hair tousled because of having put on a helmet for practice, most probably.

He was sitting in the library she works at, his bags dropped to the floor as he simply sat and watched her. Leaning against the chair, legs spread, one arm on the table the other relaxed on his thigh, Those Hazel eyes of his framed behind his glasses, following everything she did.

"Let me take you on a date" he blurted out, voice gruff. He notices Jane pause a little as her out stretched hand stopped midway from placing a book to its place, as if like processing what he just said.

That's how he got rejected for the first time. She simply stared at him, eyes cold and shaking her head. She wasn't planning in dating or going out with anyone anytime soon, especially not when she had no romantic feelings for anyone.

Persistent and determined, Vaughn didn't let that rejection stop him. He would occasionally propose his offer time and time again, I.e after every week.

"There are plenty of fish in the sea, Morozov. Go bother someone else." She glared at him through her glasses, turning and walking away from him, ignoring him.

It was like a broken record, playing the same scene again and again at this point.

But Vaughn didn't want just any fish. He wanted an orca. Silly as it may seem. He wanted Jane by his side.

He just know, he couldn't see anyone else but her. She was the only worthy opponent for him, the one who silently challenges him to be better, work harder and smarter each time.

She was the only worthy person to him, someone who would put him in his place without hesitation.

In his eyes, together they would be unstoppable. Together, they would be on top of any and every food chain.

So what they were just high schoolers? He knew, that she was his ultimate conquest,no matter what challenges would come to him.

So what if she never gives him the attention he wants? So what if he has to chase her even when she pushed him harder each time? He didn't mind it at all. He prefers his examinations to be hard, to test if he is truly ready for the storm.

But maybe destiny have another plan for them.

Maybe high school, was the only time they had.

Soon, he would graduate and leave for UK to study in King's University, like all his other friends in his mafia family.

He could have force himself into her life, he could have kept being persistent.

But no he didn't. Though, that didn't mean he would stop chasing after her.

And no matter what, he wouldn't stop protecting her from any harm, from any danger. And he will do it without her knowing. Making sure she is safe and not even a hair is touched.

She was his girl after all. He wasn't going to upset her by being an idiot who didn't know boundaries. He wanted her to know he respected her.

She was his lady after all. No matter how many glares she sent towards his direction, it would never fail to make his heart skip a beat. No matter how short and how bland her answers were to his failed attempts to make a conversation with her.

She was his Darling after all. He is going to lay himself bare, show all his cards to her if needed. He is ready to do anything and everything for her. And no one would dare even look at her the wrong way, not infront of him. As long as he is alive, he is going to make sure he provides her safety and just be there at her disposal.

She was his woman after all. And however life turns out to be, he is ready to bend and break every bridge just to make sure they walk on the same path.

She was his Jane. His lady. His Darling.

P.S: She started to notice after some weeks of their first meet, that Mr. Vaughn couldn't help but have the faintest smile or the slightest smirk on his face whenever she glared at him or be rude to him. And this only causes her to either glare harder or shove past him and walk away in annoyance.

I do think that he will only get more ruthless and unhinged once he starts college. Not that he isn't, but right now he is more tame. And moreover he seem to like those men who is quiet but deadly charming and gets shit done. You should never underestimate him kind of person

Thanks for reading. It was long and dreary. Longer than I imagined. And it was silly. And bad, it honestly framed better in my imagination. Again, I'm no writer and this was terrible but I needed to pen down this thoughts that was distracting me ever since I got to know about White Mask.

Do share your opinions. I just want to talk about Vaughn and your version of him.

Take care. Stay safe.

#rina kent #vaughn morozov #legacy of gods #monster trilogy #jeremy volkov #killian carson #gareth carson #nikolai sokolov #Kirill morozov

49 notes · View notes

mako-designated-driver · 1 year

Text

Okay, so I'm replaying mass effect and I've started a list of things I stumbled on for the first time. Might be interesting, but it's mostly not taking interrupts.

If you tell Anderson to go to Citadel Control instead of making Udina pay a visit to his dentist, he will actually be caught and get shot, but he is still going to get it done, like the main character he is (what do you mean the story is about Shepard? No it isn't!)

If you don't take the renegade interrupt to headbutt Uvenk on Grunt's loyalty mission, then ask him if he wants to die, Shepard will warn Uvenk that if he keeps talking crap, his "few brains are going to meet the light of day". The Shaman will be impressed and call Shepard (at least femshep) a "human Shiagur", then proceed to shit on Uvenk.

Alternatively, you can investigate, then take a paragon choice to call him the worst insult Shepard can think of: A Citadel politician.

If you take Thane to recruit Jack, when the Warden says "bounty hunters aren't dependable", he'll tell him to "try assassins"

If you ignore Bailey until you get reinstated, he will call you "Spectre Shepard" the first time you talk to him, and you won't get the "scanners think you are dead" conversation.

In the first part of Garrus loyalty mission, when you are talking to the volus, there is a renegade interrupt to shoot the bodyguards, right? If you don't take it, Garrus is going to tell them to leave and... they will. Without a word. While the volus screams for them to come back cause he already paid the guys.

If you go paragon with Elias (the guy who hired Kolyat), then take the last renegade interrupt, his lawyer will show up and tell him to "shut the hell up". Before that, you will also get the chance to rat on Mouse.

Also on Thane's mission, Talid will talk how about he is being observed and how someone is "walking on his grave, or thinking about it". His bodyguard will dismiss him by calling him paranoid.

If you don't take the renegade interrupt to blow up the krogan in Mordin's loyalty mission, you will start to regret it immediately. He will have a LONG speech about what Weyrloc is going to do to the galaxy, like throwing the Citadel in the sun, keeping salarians as slaves and eating their eggs as "a delicacy" (Mordin didn't like it much). The good news is that the interrupt will be there until he is finished talking, so there is no need to actually hear the guy.

If you stick around to hear Charr's whole poem, he will kneel in (one of) the last verses. Just a tiny detail but it was actually adorable.

If I find anything else, I'll let you guys know!

#mass effect #mass effect 2 #grunt #thane krios #mordin solus #garrus vakarian #captain anderson #charr #ereba #if you saw my spelling mistakes no you didn't #i've edited this a thousand times already i'm just dumb like that #built different

351 notes · View notes

agoodfictitle-shadowban · 8 months

Text

From Vormir, With Love - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, will add as we go on

Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.

Word count: 2.9k

A/n: i don't remember which gifs i used already fkdoslzkz anyway, enjoy guys lmao

You awake in a silent room, everyone sleeping. Or almost. It's scary how quickly you notice Natasha's absence in the bunks or on the ground within the improvised beds. With a low groan, you sit up and look around to find her. And you do, she's sitting at the helm, one leg against her torso that she holds with her connected hands, her eyes fixated on the space advancing at speed around her. The colorful tapestry reflects against her like water navigating her skin, and you realize you could look at her forever. This too scares you. So you decide to face your fears head on and stand up to go talk to her.

"I'd prefer if you didn't put your boots on the seats," you whisper as to not awake anyone else. She looks up at you with those blue eyes and you feel your heart skip a beat. She offers a mischievous smile to you, before she puts her leg down.

"Stick in the mud."

"Better than mud on this… I want to say leather, but I have no idea if I'm honest." Her throaty laugh makes you smile and you hide it by looking at the console. You were doing good time, all things considered.

"I'll keep that in mind for the future."

Her teasing makes you escalate the situation. You refuse to back down now that you set up that boundary.

"You better remember."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have to come for you," you threaten, leaning closer to her before you think better of it. There is a tension there, but you can't quite put your finger on it until she leans up, her eyes searching yours.

"We wouldn't want that," she says in… is that a flirty tone? No. No way. You were imagining things.

Things like a future after you're back on Earth, a very unlikely one, where she comes to visit you, or you go back in space together. Maybe you could be friends, or maybe… you stop your gay brain.

Yes, Natasha Romanoff is a very attractive woman, but one who would never be interested in you. And she is an Avenger, an incredible human being, a hero - no matter if they never came to save you right now. It's crazy how much you already want more from her despite barely knowing her, which is why you decide to simply shelve these budding attractions that you can't call feelings yet. It's better that way.

You just need to get further away from her face. And you did. Very slowly.

"I'm glad we agree," you say, your throat suddenly very dry.

You hear a beep coming from the side and take a look at the controls. Apparently you just made it to the Universal Neural Teleportation Network. You look at the empty space before you, and give a look to Natasha.

"We need to wake up everyone to secure them for the jump." You stand up and start to shake a few of your passengers awake, ordering them around with Natasha. When everyone is secure, you sit back at your seat and send the signal to open the door to the network and go through. You feel the sudden speed pull at your inside uncomfortably and before you know it you're far from Vormir.

A few hours go by before you are able to see the outpost orbiting a gaseous planet. You slowly approach until you receive a transmission.

"Outpost Theta-3, decline your identity."

The voice sounds frantic, and you quickly notice you were far from the only ship approaching the outpost. Probably an after effect of half the galaxy appearing back suddenly.

"We're mercenaries, in need of a place to board."

"Alright. Bay E-12 starboard."

"Thank you."

You fly and park next to the platform you were given access to, quickly feeling the gravity dampener relaying your ship's thrusters. It was bumpy with all the ships coming and going right next to you, but it was still a success. You let out a sigh of relief, glad to be able to get out of the ship. After staying in for so long, you're starting to feel cooped up. Still, you let everyone know they can leave safely, and wait for the cleaning crew to go first. When you leave your seat and look behind you, Natasha and June are still there, waiting for you to get out of the cockpit. There are no words exchanged, and no need for them, but you're thankful they waited for you. You join them towards the open door and before the three of you come out, you hand Natasha a small chip.

"Universal translator. So far we all had one, but we might come across people who don't so…"

"Alright," she nods. "Can you…?"

"Ah, yes, let me…" you come closer to her and gently move her hair out of the way, your fingertips caressing her skin so you can attach the chip right behind her ear. She let out a breath, now noticing she held it in at your proximity.

You offer her a shy smile before turning back to the door and going through it, only to see your new friends were under the threat of weapons. Some of them are pointed your way once you go through the door. You quickly put your hands up and someone comes to you to get your weapons, including those Natasha have.

"You're under arrest for being a part of the Grafd Syndicate. Charges include theft, attack against the Nova Empire, slavery, and numerous other crimes," one of them say as he steps forward.

"I'm so glad I can understand them," she seethe with a look your way. Did she think you…? No, she has to know.

"Wow. Wait, no. We're not– we stole the ship, remember. We stole it to escape them," you address the man in front of you, as much as Natasha. You can't see if she believes you or not, too worried by the scan they submit you to. It isn't the first time something like that happens, but every time it puts you on edge.

The man who scans you reports the results to his superior, who examines them for a minute. Tension feels your back, and you want to flee but you know better. They'd shot you down in an instant. Luckily it doesn't come to that. With a gesture everyone brings their weapons down. You take a deep breath, relief washing over you.

"We understand your situation, we will keep you among the other refugees until we know where to send you." The man starts to leave and you take a step further.

"That usually doesn't go so well," you whisper to yourself before you decide to plead more of your case. "Wait, actually we need you to contact someone and we can be out of your hair in no time."

He considers your words carefully.

"Lieutenant Krio, please see to them," he says without answering you directly. The Lieutenant in question, an alien with green skin but otherwise an humanoïd appearance, nods before she takes a step towards you.

"Please follow me, any of your needs will be covered once you get settled. Including your requests," she adds when she sees you're about to interrupt again. You abdicate for now and agree to simply follow her. You could almost smell Earth, you just needed to be patient a little bit longer.

After traveling through some hallways, you arrive at their mess hall. It's a long room, with a high ceiling, white walls and no windows but a skylight that gives directly into space, and more room than needed most of the time you imagine. But not today. Today, it's full of people. You guess most of them are past victims of the Snap, judging by how lost most of them look. There were at least a hundred people packed in the room, and your group just added to that number. When your guide finally stops it's to show you a small space delimited only by some holographic tape, with barely enough space for all of you to lay down, some sleeping bags and blankets stocked in a corner.

"Wait, we can just stay in our ship if you don't have the space," you offer upon observing your new quarters.

"Sorry, but we have to follow regulations."

"Regulations say we have to be parked like animals in a room?" You ask, your tone bordering on anger.

"That's how it is. No one likes it but we can't do anything about it. We need to secure your ship and it might take some time with the current influx of people."

You're about to protest some more when a hand grabs yours, and you immediately calm down at the cold coming from it. You give a pout to Natasha at her clear message. Calm down. We won't be there long.

"Okay, okay… can you at least try to contact the person I need you to?"

"Sure, do you have an ID number for them?"

"No, just a name." You turn to Natasha and let her give it, ignoring the annoyance on the face of your interlocutor.

"Carol Danvers, also known as Captain Marvel."

Recognition crosses the face of the Lieutenant and she nods. "We can try to contact her, but don't expect much. She rarely answers."

"Simply tell her it's from Natasha Romanoff."

"We will. Now if you'll excuse me…" she looks at your new quarters, then to your group. "I have more work to do. Someone will bring you food and more sleeping arrangements."

"Thank you," you answer very briefly and walk into your small corner. There was barely any space to move around and once everyone was sitting down, it felt even worse, especially with your bags thrown on the ground.

You discard your empty food tray when a soldier walks the imaginary hallways with a trolley to recover all the discarded dishes. After that, you sit next to June, who is now sleeping directly on the cold hard ground, and face Natasha, talking a few words in hushed tones to her.

"So, how do you know this Captain Marvel?" When you were taken from Earth, she wasn't yet a big name. You briefly wonder if you should have kept this question to yourself when you see the haunted look in her blue-green eyes, but she still answers.

"It was shortly after the Snap. We were still counting our losses. So many people…" you can see her eyes glimmer with unshed tears, and you wonder how many people close to her she lost. You guess a few. You yourself wondered sometimes if upon returning on Earth you would find the empty house of your parents, or if they would be there still.

"Anyone you knew?" You ask before thinking.

"Friends. My sister, too."

Slowly you move next to her and put your hand on her cold one, before you squeeze it gently. She looks so vulnerable, so far from the image you had of Earth's mightiest heroes. You truly hope your warmth can reach her somehow.

"I'm sure she's back like everyone else."

She smiles at you, just from the corner of her lips but it's enough for you. Your eyes meet briefly before she looks down, and you think you can see a bit of red on her cheeks. Somehow it makes your heart skip a bit.

"Yeah, she's probably fine. I just hope she'll be okay until I come home."

"Hey, if we're lucky we won't take 5 years now that we have your friend." Your joke makes her chuckle.

"Anyway… she appeared not long after the Snap, looking for Fury. He was part of the casualties so from then on we started working together," she finishes.

The haunted look made you think that this short explanation left out the weight of the numerous years spent feeling these losses. Her sister, her friends, whoever this Fury guy was. It was a lot when you also had the weight of half the world disappearing on your shoulders too. The grief must have been agonizing.

"That's quite the story. I guess that's all it takes for superheroes to start working together."

She hums, and after a lull in the conversation, she leans against you. It takes you by surprise, your breath catching in your throat. You swallow hard and turn your head to look at her. She's looking back at you with her sea-side eyes, and her face is so close you can feel her breath on your skin.

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" She asks in the same whispery tone you've been using for your conversation, but suddenly it feels so much more intimate. "You're just warm."

"No, it's no problem." Your answer it's a bit louder than you intended, and a small smirk finds its place on Natasha's lips. You blush in embarrassment.

"I'm going to take a nap then. Wake me up if anything happens."

You nod, she closes her eyes, and your throat is the driest it's ever been.

"Wake up," you urgently move Natasha away from you. "I think something is happening."

When she opens her eyes, she takes a deep breath and your scent immediately invades her senses. She'd had the best sleep she had in a while, and awakening is now harder than she expected it would be. But, contrary to her spirit, her body is ready to fight. Instinctively she reaches for her weapon. She still had two full magazines but it won't be enough if they're under attack. Maybe she can nick a weapon, but first, she has to assess the situation. She looks around, seeing everyone is agitated and some of the guards are running in the hallways. The floor is slightly shaking, too, a clear indication of something happening.

"Any idea what's happening?" She asks, crouching instead of simply sitting to get ready to act. You're already doing the same, a knee still on the ground to check on your own weapon and make sure the coils are in good shape.

"Not really. The station has been moving for a few minutes now -" explained the shaking "- but no one told us anything." As you are checking your weapon, Natasha notices your fingers are unsteady. It's the first time she sees something worry you since you met to the point of making you tremble.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

You nod at first, then shake your head, your breath shallow. "I just… What if it's the Grafd? What if we endangered everyone by coming here? When it's just us, it's fine, but there are so many people here!"

Natasha frowns. She's worried about your sudden panic, but also focuses on the fact you mentioned that you are being pursued by some people - the people you escaped from, she guessed now - but why would they still be after you? Yes, you took a ship from them, but it had been five years. It makes Natasha wonder if something else happened that they were so hell-bent in finding you again. She would need to bring the subject again later. For now, she decides to simply comfort you. You seem on the verge of a panic attack.

"Hey, it's probably nothing. See, Lieutenant Krio is here." She gently rubs your back, and you take a deep breath to relax slowly as you listen to the Nova Corps agents.

"Please, everyone calm down. The station moved through an asteroid field, we're in stable space again."

You let out a deep, shaky breath, and Natasha has you sit back down. Gently she pries your weapon from your fingers and puts it down on one of your packs.

"Those guys really scares you, huh?" She asks a rhetorical question. You know it's useless to deny it, no matter the bravado you show more often than not. Usually, there isn't a station full of innocent people around you. Usually.

"I guess. It's just… it happened once. People got caught in the crossfire." You swallow with difficulty. You remember the screams and the fire and the smell of burned corpses. After that you avoided places that were isolated, and you kept as low a profile as possible. You only scavenged in hope of getting out of this whole mess.

Natasha knew the feeling too well. For her, it was Dreykov's daughter, the people of New York during the battle who didn't make it. She knew what dreams haunted her friends too. It was the price of that life after all.

"Does it get better?" You ask when you see in her eyes what you see in yours when you look in the mirror.

"It does. Bit by bit. But never fully." It's hard for her to tell you the truth but she knows it's what you want. You nod. "It helps to have people you can count on." She looks towards the now awake June, and Tim. You barely know the guy but he'd been there for you so far - a bit out of paranoia but still it counts for something. "And to have people to talk with."

She smiles at you and takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. The gesture is firm but she offers you the possibility to take your hand away. You choose to leave it there.

It's a peaceful moment, and a peaceful feeling that she brings to you. But it barely lasts, when a soldier comes to your group. You let go of her hand, almost like a shy highschooler who doesn't want their parents to know about their girlfriend. A blast to the past.

"We got an answer," he says shortly. "Says she'll be here soon."

Natasha straightens her back. "Perfect."

It sounds like you were soon going to be home.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha #fvwl #natasha imagine #idk how to tag

100 notes · View notes