#what Senna would wear

[the-little-moment]

Been wanting to ask this for a while. If you have an OC of any gender who would wear a gown, please reblog this and show me what they’d wear! I may have an absolutely massive Pinterest board of fancy dresses and costumes because I love looking at them. Bonus if it’s very fantasy/sci fi/not normal Earth type clothing.

#star wars oc #dr divehdi #what Senna would wear #fantasy costuming #Star Wars fashion

[viennakarma]

Soft launch

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: After dating on the low for three years, you and Lewis decide to soft launch your relationship public for the first time

Word count: 4.1k

Tags: Smut, female reader, +18, sex (p in v), unprotected sex, established relationship, soft dom!Lewis, little breath play (choking), spanking, face slap (softly), a bit of dirty talking, quickie in the car, public (semi public), not beta read

Note: hi there, this one was sitting in my drafts for a while. but it’s been a few years since I last posted anything here (so please bear any mistake)

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You take a quick spin in the mirror, checking out your outfit from every possible angle. The outfit isn't too extravagant, just a denim skirt for the hot weather, comfortable heeled boots, and the most important piece, one of Lewis' favorite shirts, the Ayrton Senna T-shirt. For accessories, just a combination of thin rings and a leather choker.

“Are you sure you want to announce it today?” Lewis asks, coming out of the bathroom with his Mercedes cap in hand. You rub your hands on the thigh of your denim skirt to wipe away the sweat forming in your palms.

You were dating for 3 years, but in secret and in the most discreet way possible. You two don't hang out publicly, you don't post pictures. At least not visible photos. Lewis often posts mysterious pictures with you, like a closeup of a hug, your holding hands, birthday or anniversary presents, etc. The world knows Lewis has a girlfriend, they just don't know who the lucky lady is. Yet. Aside from your families and a few close friends, nobody knows.

Although it's not your first time watching his races, it's the first time you'll be seen together, probably photographed, filmed and commented on. You had a long talk with Lewis' PR team, they had helped you hide the relationship, and now they are helping you to bring it out into the open. “Soft Launch” was what they called it, you would arrive with Lewis, you would be seen in the VIP area of the paddock accompanying his father and you would be seen wearing Lewis' favorite outfit, and after that, people and media would put 1+1 together to assume who you are in his life. So, it's a lot of pressure, especially for the anonymous girlfriend of one of Formula 1's biggest stars.

“It's about time,” You say with a smile.

Lewis walks over, stopping right behind you at the mirror, his palm on your waist to check your complete outfit. He smiles, kissing your shoulder and cheek.

“I like it when you wear my clothes,” he murmurs, stepping out from behind you and positioning himself in front of you. “Perfect” he adds as he takes your hand, making you spin around.

“Ready?” you finally grab your purse and your work bag, checking to confirm you have everything you need.

“Let's go” Lewis takes your hand as you leave the hotel room.

“I've asked them to isolate a private little room in the VIP just for you but my driver’s room is also available at all times, in case you feel suffocated with all the people in the common areas,” Lewis says as you head to the elevator.

Once inside, you stare at yourself in the mirror again. Lewis presses the ground floor button and turns to you. He must see something in your face because his smile fades a little and he says,

“It doesn't have to be today if you're not comfortable yet.”

You know this is just him being overly concerned about you, ever since the time you two were spotted at a party and you had an anxiety attack. Fortunately, at the time, the amateur photos they took of the two of you were over zoomed and lacking in resolution, so they couldn't figure out your identity.

You give a smile that you hope is confident, and wrap your index finger around Lewis' waistband, the way you know he likes it, and pull him down to press his body into yours. He smiles surprised at the movement, and you peck his lips, not moving too far away from him.

“It's time they know you are mine,” you whisper, and Lewis chuckles in surprise, he absolutely loves whenever you get a little possessive, it turns him on. His hand comes up to your jaw and he kisses you harder, and you part your lips to take him deeper, letting out a soft moan when you feel his tongue on yours, and the way his body presses you to the wall of the elevator.

When you hear the elevator ding, you give Lewis a light push to put distance between the two of you, just in time for the door of the elevator to open.

“Well, well, what do we have here…” you look up and find George, Lewis' teammate. George opens his arms and hugs you, and then you hug Carmen, his girlfriend, just as he adds, “Ready to reveal the big secret?”

“As ready as I can be,” you reply with a smile. George is one of the few people on Lewis’ team who knows about you, and he - as well as the others, - had kept the secret from the rest of the world. His girlfriend and you met at Lewis' private birthday party the year before.

“We can keep each other company in the paddock so you won't be too nervous,” Carmen suggested, beside you.

“Thanks, Carmen. You’re an angel” you thank her.

When you get in the van and the driver starts to drive towards the track, Lewis pulls your hand into his lap, holding it tight between both of his, and you realize that he's probably more nervous than you are about this whole situation. And you know it's more out of concern for you than anything else.

“Hey, relax,” You approach him tenderly, “We're ready for this, aren't we?” you say with a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

“Yes, we are. Sorry, I just worry about you” He says with a shy little smile and you put your hand on his chest, over his heart.

“I know. But I promise I'll be fine” you assure you one more time, and a weight seems to visibly lift off his shoulders as he sighs in relief.

You lean further over him and slide your hand down his chest to his waist, adding “Do you want a little kiss to help you relax?”

You cup his chin and kiss his lips softly. Lewis' hands slide down your sides until he pulls you hard onto his lap. You gasp against his lips at the sudden movement, and he takes advantage of your parted mouth to deepen the kiss with his tongue. You grip the back of the seat behind his head to feel some modicum of control over the situation. He puts both hands on your ass and pushes you against his lap, and you start to feel his body react to yours.

“Baby…” He whispers in the middle of the kiss and reason returns to you. Breaking the kiss, you pull away from his face just enough for him to look you in the eyes with hazy, lust-filled eyes.

“Lewis-” you call with a serious voice and he finally stops, panting but with his eyes focused entirely on you now. “We can’t. You can’t arrive at the GP with a hard-on.”

“By the time we get there, I won't have this hard-on anymore” He presses the button that makes the partition between the back seats and the driver seat go up. Your eyes widen because you didn't know a van had this kind of thing, you thought it was limited to limousines.

“Toto will kill us, Lewis!” you say, but your resolve dissolves when he traces your panties from your ass all the way down, feeling the wet fabric on your pussy, “You know he smells trouble from two miles away!”

“If you're still talking about another man, then I'm probably doing my job poorly” he murmurs, kissing your chin, he traces your panties with the knuckle of his finger, pressing gently on your clit, and you feel yourself melt in his arms, with the feeling of the fabric rubbing your most sensitive part, “Relax, no one will know.”

“How much time do we have before we arrive?” you ask, and you feel Lewis' fingers fiddling with the front button of your skirt as his lips greedily seek your neck, “Lewis-” you grab his wrists holding back a laugh “How much time?”

“I don't know, forty minutes or so.” He says, and you mumble an agreement. Finally, you sigh in relief knowing you still have enough time to give in to lust.

He puts both hands on your thigh, fingers climbing under the denim of the skirt and squeezing your ass hard, the direct contact forcing a moan out of you. Lewis chuckles at your reaction and you feel like slapping him to remove the smug smirk from his face, but instead you just grab the back of his neck and pull his face until our lips clash again. Lewis threads his fingers through your hair at the back of your neck, but you break the kiss, gripping his wrists moving his hands away from you again, stopping him from messing your hair.

“No way you're going to make me arrive at the GP all disheveled!” you struggle and he laughs again, as you try to keep a straight face but it's impossible with him looking at you like you’re a goddess on earth. “It's my first appearance!”

“You've been to a number of grands prix before, and we've done this several times before.”

“In the hotel room! Never in the car on the way there. And nobody knew that I was your girlfriend.”

“Why do you think I suggested you wear a skirt? I won't ruin your outfit, I promise” He guarantees, this time with a serious look to reassure you.

“Then fine. Alright” you say, with a roll of your hips into his pelvis to show how much you want him and he bites back a groan, “But how are we making sure the guy over there won’t say a word?” you whisper, pointing in the driver's direction.

“He'll get a pretty generous tip, okay?” Lewis reassures you once more and his hand travels up your torso to your neck. He faintly squeezes, which makes you shiver. “If you prefer, I can cover your mouth.”

“You know what?” you hold his wrist up to lift his hand and nip at his index finger, pulling away to say, “You make a pretty convincing boyfriend.”

“Do I?” He mumbles going back to unzipping the rest of your skirt, just enough to loosen the fabric so he could ride it up around your waist.

You bend down to nibble on his neck as he just holds your hip. You undo the buttons on his shirt, gaining access to his chest and kissing your way down. You only open the top four buttons of his shirt so you don't mess up his clothes. Finally, your hands reach into the waistband of his pants, hurriedly undoing his fly and he lifts his hips only to pull his pants down to his knees.

“Slow down, love” he says, grabbing your hand before you can pull his cock out of his boxers. You sigh as he pulls you fully onto his lap, pressing your torso flush against his. His finger traces your cheek affectionately, until he reaches down and squeezes your breast through your shirt.

You move closer to him and bite his bottom lip, wiggling around in his lap now that there's less clothes separating the two of you, just his underwear and your panties. You yelp in place when he smacks your ass, and the sting of the slap makes you hiss, but you barely have time to recover when he smacks your buttock again, now the other side.

You spread your legs wide and just move your panties to the side, because if you were to take them off, you'd have to get off his lap, and with the way he's squeezing your ass, it's going to be impossible. Trembling, you stroke your own pussy for some relief, but Lewis grabs your wrist before you can really get going. You stare at him, not really understanding the interruption.

“Not when I’m right here,” is all he says before lifting your hand and sucking on your middle finger, the one you used to touch yourself. Then he guides your hand to press his throbbing cock under his underwear.

You sigh in pleasure as he strokes your pussy himself, gently, spreading your indecent wetness up and down, pressing your entrance until your hips shake at the intrusion, but never going fully in, just teasing your entrance.

“Enough, Lewis!” you complain, trying to move your hips into his fingers “We don't have time for your teasing.”

“Just tell me what you want, pretty baby,” he says, smirking and very well aware of his power over you.

You push his hand away and pull down his boxers, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric, you meet his eyes as you move your hand, pumping up and down. He moans softly, gripping your waist.

“Hold me, love.” you ask as you stand up still on your knees straddling him and his hands move down steadily to your hips, offering balance as you position his cock at your entrance and slowly lower until he is fully inside you. “Lewis, oh my God-”

You stand still, gripping Lewis' shoulders as you both pant and you wait for your body to accommodate him. You test the movement, rolling in a circle with your hips and you both shudder in place, your body so receptive to his that it feels like the perfect fit. You reach back with both hands and brace them on Lewis' knees, which gives you enough leverage for you to move your hips without falling. The movement sends an electric current of pleasure through your entire body, and you begin to move your hips up and down with his help. Lewis squeezes your breasts one more time through your clothes and you know he's putting a colossal effort in not taking all your clothes off. Then he takes hold of your choker, pulling it just enough to choke you lightly. Your head falls back with pleasure and you can't keep your voice down.

“Shhh…” Lewis says, now also thrusting his hips up to help you move. You can't turn down the sounds coming out of your mouth and your pussy is throbbing when you feel a light slap from Lewis across your face. He groans when he feels the tightness around his cock and he thrusts once more, feeling the same clenching of your pussy, “behave, my little slut.”

"Lewis, Lewis... I need..." you try to say between moans but you can't so you just grab the hand that was slapping you and put it over your mouth to muffle your sounds. Lewis seizes the opportunity and shoves his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, and you suck on his fingers to keep from making any noise.

You feel the building up at the base of your stomach and you grip the seat behind Lewis again and speed up the movements, both your hips moving in sync and Lewis's cock buried so deep inside you, you know you're close. The slapping sound of his cock meeting your wetness is even more obscene than the moans you’re trying to muffle.

You keep riding and you know that anytime soon, your legs will start to feel tired. But before you can make up your mind on moving to a different position, Lewis takes his hand away from your mouth and uses his spit-wet fingers to press down on your clit.

You reach the climax less than a few seconds after he starts rubbing on your clit. Your hips shake as you come, kissing Lewis like your life depends on it, lest you cause even more lewd sounds inside the van.

Lewis wraps his arms around your waist, and as your body is limp from the orgasm, he himself moves your hips a little more until he reaches his own peak. When he comes, his head falls back onto the headrest and you press your forehead into his shoulder, trying to catch your breath again.

“Lewis, that was… Wow!” you manage to sigh, slowly regaining movement in your legs.

“I know, my love” He kisses you on the forehead and you pull away, getting off of him.

Lewis pulls a tissue from one of the car holders, and helps you clean between your legs, soon pulling your panties back into place, with a smirk knowing that you will need to spend the next few hours with his cum inside of you. It's something he's been quite vocal about, all the times you get laid anywhere you shouldn't.

While you adjust your skirt, and redo the front buttons, Lewis fixes his underwear, then his pants and you help him redo the buttons of the shirt he is wearing. The satisfied smirk never leaves Lewis's face, and you realize you're smiling too, any trace of nervousness hidden in the past.

“Thanks for helping me relax” you say, cupping his chin to place a peck on his lips.

“I love you” he says, putting his arm around you and making you relax against his chest “And we still have fifteen minutes left.” Lewis checks his rolex. You laugh, and open your purse, pulling out your tiny mirror to touch up your lipstick.

You two continue to embrace the rest of the way to the GP, and when you get out of the van at the entrance, Lewis goes to the driver's window and, in a discreet handshake, slides a few hundreds’ bills to the driver who just nods positively. you adjust your skirt, and turn to Lewis.

“How do I look?” you give an excited little smile and Lewis smiles.

“Like you were fucked good by your boyfriend,” he winks, and then giggles as you playfully slap his shoulder.

“Lew, I’m serious!”

He takes a cap from his carry-on bag, and then puts it on your head, one of his white ones, that has the Mercedes logo and his number, 44, on the flap. Then he puts your “all access” badge around your neck.

“Perfect”

You decided not to go inside hand in hand to live up to the soft in “Soft Launch” as your team had planned. But as soon as you approach the entrance, paparazzi flashes start popping in Lewis' direction. You walk beside him, without even touching him, and you immediately start to hear the questions directed at him about who you are, and if you are friends, or dating, but you just ignore it and head to the Mercedes motorhome.

It's completely unlike any other time you've been to a GP where you've been completely ignored, arriving alone and slipping in discreetly through the paying entrance, staying in the stands and silently cheering your boyfriend on.

Lewis only puts his hand on you when you get into the motorhome and go up to the second floor. He takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“See? It wasn't even that bad,” Lewis gives you a welcoming smile.

“I don't know how you manage to deal with paparazzi all the time” you almost grunt the words as you enter the admin floor.

As soon as you walk in, Toto is coming out of what looks like his office, and he smiles in our direction. Toto had known you officially for almost a year, and he was aware that today you would make your first official public appearance. He hugs Lewis and offers you a handshake.

“You're officially welcome” Toto greets you and you thank him, “I'm going to need to borrow Lewis in five minutes.”

“He's all yours” you chuckle.

Lewis guides you to one of the armchairs with a table in the administrative sector, where you open your laptop, he shows you around quickly, the direction of the bathrooms, the way to his driver’s room, the cafeteria, the buffet, and assuring you that he will still see you before going down to the pit lane.

You spend the next couple of hours working on your laptop, focused on finishing a project that would free you up for the next three or four days if you could get it done before the deadline.

When Lewis returns, he is already dressed in his second skin, and the fireproof overalls already take up the lower half of his body. you stand up and hug him tight, and then get a good look at his body in the white jumpsuit, and Lewis catches your eye.

“Do you like it?” He bites his bottom lip discreetly, but you just push his shoulder trying hard not to blush.

“You know I do. Are you going down yet to the pit lane?” you ask and Lewis smiles in agreement. You cup his face affectionately, and he immediately becomes serious. “Get in there and be the best. Good luck, my love!”

“Thank you, honey,” he murmurs. You kiss his lips again, and he deepens the kiss for a few seconds before someone from the team calls out to him.

Lewis leaves you with a confident smile and you know he's ready for the race. He always does his best races when he's in a good mood. Before he goes downstairs you call again.

“Lewis!” He looks at you from the stairs "See you when you are up there on the podium.”

The fact that you said it out loud makes some people around you laugh in agreement, but your eyes focus on Lewis and the big smile he gives just for you. Being confident is never a bad thing for Lewis Hamilton, because he knows he’s a badass.

As you're putting away your work stuff, you get a link from Lewis's PR team. When you open it, it's a tweet, with pictures of our arrival, speculating about your identity, talking about you being with Lewis and wearing his favorite shirt. It looks like “Soft Launch” has been successfully achieved.

You go up to the VIP way calmer now that the whole thing of your relationship is out in the world, and there you find Anthony, Lewis' father, who welcomes you with a hug and you immediately feel calmer for having someone familiar around.

You both watch the race with apprehension and nervousness, well, you watch with apprehension and Anthony watches with confidence. Lewis starts in P4, and spends most of the laps oscillating between P3 and P2 with some stability. For a while, Lewis seems determined to stick to P2 to cross the finish line. Everything changes after a minor crash that requires a safety car, then Lewis goes to a pit stop to change tires and the last 12 laps is when Lewis reaches a speed that until then he had not achieved in the entire race. It is with sheer shock that you realize he was sparing his car all throughout the opening laps, just keeping pace and creating distance between his position and the previous ones.

The last few laps are the tightest in the race for P1, and in a particularly difficult corner, Lewis forces a gap and moves forward, taking the lead. With trembling fingers, you grip the base of the rail stiffly as Lewis passes you for the first time being P1. The difference between it and the P2 is minuscule, just milliseconds.

During the last lap, at least three times, P2 almost manages to take the lead from Lewis, but he stays firm and holds the position unyielding until he crosses the finish line. You only breathe again when you see the checkered flag in the air.

Anthony and you celebrate with jumps and hugs, and a few minutes later you are guided to watch the podium. You can't take your eyes off Lewis, how he's smiling, beaming really, and how he celebrates with champagne and all that goes with it.

When he leaves the podium, his dad walks over to hug him and you hang back, watching the two of them. Lewis finally faces you, smiling as he walks towards you. Your eyes widen, gesturing to the dozens of cameras focused on him, but Lewis doesn't seem to mind when he hugs you tight. Standing on tiptoes, you return the tight hug, not caring that he's sweaty and wet from the champagne.

“I said I'd see you on the podium, didn't I?” you whisper to him, he kisses your cheek and hugs you again. “Congratulations for the victory. You were so good it was unreal!”

“I wanted to show off to my girlfriend” he says and pulls away to wink at you.

“Go there and celebrate your moment!” you pull away from him, taking a step back, but he still holds firmly onto your hand “I love you, my champion.”

“I love you too” He says and kisses your hand.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #mercedes amg f1 #f1 imagine #team lh44 #lh44 #44 #lewis hamilton +18 #+18

[thefrogdalorian]

hi spud! i remembered u did requests & was wondering if maybe u could do like a first kiss scenario w din? 🥺 something soft & yearn-y? aha. no worries if u can't but thanks anyways. 🩷

Hello Senna! Thank you so much for your request! Thinking about a first kiss with Din really inspired me (how does he hide his face from you and still kiss you? What leads up to the moment?? so many questions!!) and this was the result. There is plenty of yearning and some softness sprinkled in but a little angst too (very happy ending though aghhhdkgj). Thanks again and really hope you like it!! 🤍

A New Dawn

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5107

Rating: General

Summary:  Travelling through the galaxy with a mysterious nameless and faceless Mandalorian with a reputation as the best bounty hunter in the parsec would probably terrify most people. Instead, over the months you have known Mando, you have discovered his gentler, more affectionate side. Living in such proximity to the man you have an enormous crush on threatens to suffocate you as you determine that he must never find out. But after a job seemingly goes badly wrong on a forest planet, the fear of losing him will perhaps finally be the tipping point for a new dawn in your relationship...

Content Warnings: Kissing, bit of angst when there's brief panic for Din/reader's safety (happy ending though!), allusions to violence (canon-typical, nothing descriptive/graphic).

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Upon that fateful day on which you had entered an agreement with a bounty hunter, you had been under no illusions that there would be much unpredictability given his line of work. That there would be periods of isolation when he left you behind in his ship while he went in search of his latest bounty. You could be alone on that ship for weeks; well, save for the big-eared, bug-eyed green baby, whose care you had been entrusted with, by the mysterious man who was your employer. When agreeing to travel with The Mandalorian, you had expected the randomness of the path that you cut through the galaxy, journeying from planet to planet depending on his latest jobs. The anguish that came with wondering where he was and whether the jobs were going well as you sat in the Razor Crest and cared for his child. Despite how much it had bothered you at first, you had gradually become used to such emotions. You expected them.

What you had never expected was the fondness you had developed for the man.

The first few times that Mando had headed off the ship for a job, you had been almost nonchalant about his absence, barely noticing the passage of time. You passed your days playing with The Child when you were not fast asleep in your bunk. But slowly and surely, he had begun to mean something more to you. You noticed it in his absence most of all. The ship felt empty without his deep voice and you missed his calm, reassuring presence.

It was strange really, considering that you had never laid eyes upon him. In fact, you had rarely seen him dressed in anything less than his full armour, complete with all the weapons he attached to himself almost ritualistically, without fail, every single day. Even if you were merely hurtling through hyperspace, he was still armed to the teeth. Mando had explained that weapons were part of his religion and his armour was like a second skin to him. You were curious, but not judgmental, about his way of life. It was vastly different to your own and entirely contradictory to anything you had ever heard about Mandalorians before. Even the scant information you had overheard about the formidable warriors in the miserable Cantina where you had once been employed had never included anything about Mandalorians being forbidden from removing their helmets in the presence of others. 

Mando had made it abundantly clear, before you ever stepped foot aboard the Razor Crest, that wearing his helmet was a definitive boundary, never to be questioned or pushed. It was his ultimate line in the sand that you were never to cross. You were respectful of his Creed, asking questions with a curious rather than invasive intention which he seemed to appreciate. In fact, rather than driving a wedge between you, his Way had provoked many thoughtful conversations between the two of you.

There were nights you would sit in the cockpit as the brilliant blue trails of hyperspace surrounded you, bonding over your similar pasts. Sometimes, you would wake up in the bunk underneath the tiny hammock that belonged to The Child with no memory of clambering in the previous night. He never admitted it, but you were almost certain that Mando had carried you there himself, putting his impressive physique to use for something other than hauling bounties back to the Razor Crest. 

Amongst it all, you had learned his habits and quirks. You learned the way he liked his caf in the morning. How meticulous he was with polishing his armour until it gleamed so brightly, even in the dark of hyperspace, that you could see every detail of your reflection, right down to your pores. You discovered that he cleaned his weapons, taking them apart and checking every inch of them when he was particularly stressed or his bounties were not as straightforward as he had hoped. 

Most of all, you discovered how incredibly kind and caring the man beneath the hard, intimidating armour truly was.

Although he had weapons strapped to every inch of his body, Mando could be impossibly gentle. You had witnessed evidence of his ruthless efficiency when he returned to the ship laden with several bounties. Sometimes alive, sometimes dead, though he usually prevented you from seeing the more grisly sights. Yet the man you saw most often of all, moving around the Razor Crest with you as you hurtled around the galaxy, amongst the stars was different to reconcile with the violent nature of his profession. 

It was difficult to believe that the hands that had earned him the reputation as the most formidable bounty hunter in the parsec due to their proficiency in neutralising even elusive targets were the very same hands that were impossibly gentle when placing The Child in his hammock. The same hands that had extinguished countless lives had been used to rock the little one after he awoke from the nightmares that frequently plagued him. Nightmares that plagued Mando, too. But you had never been bold enough to bring up the tossing and turning you had heard from his bunk pretty much every night since you had started travelling with him. Despite the relatively personal conversations and information you had gleaned from him, it still felt a step too far. You didn’t want to cause him to shut down by prying, especially not after he had seemed to become genuinely comfortable in your presence and show you the gentler side of his nature. 

You felt so privileged to see such a side to him. It was a side that you had never expected to witness. After all, you had been utterly terrified the first time you encountered him, when he strutted into the run-down Cantina you worked in. He was impossible not to stare at, clad in that unpainted armour that glinted when the light hit it in just the right spot. You had never seen a Mandalorian in the flesh before, but you had heard plenty of legends about them. Mandalorians were famed across the galaxy for their ruthless, lethal accuracy and formidable fighting skills. 

That feeling of gratitude had soon developed into something else, though. A feeling that you would class as affection, albeit affection that was veering dangerously close into the territory of a four-letter word that your mind could not even contemplate. A feeling that would be all too dangerous to harbour for a man who you still felt you knew so little about. 

You were certain that your feelings for Mando were doing untold damage to your health. Living in such proximity to a man you harboured a devastatingly intense crush towards would one day succeed in suffocating you. Your chest ached whenever he was near, knowing that there was no possibility he could ever reciprocate your feelings. You knew that your love would remain unrequited. Above all, you knew that he must never, ever discover the depths of your affection towards him. 

There were more than a few times you had dissolved into tears during a few moments of solitude in the ‘fresher; your salty tears mixing with the hot jets of water from the Razor Crest’s shower. One particular occasion, when your feelings had left you particularly devastated, was the evening when Mando had returned from his latest job, during which he had to terminate the asset after one escape attempt too many. The asset’s termination would result in a lower fee and you knew that was partially the reason for Mando’s frustration. Yet, despite his reputation, you also knew that he did not relish killing bounties, much preferring to lure them back to the ship and freeze them in carbonite. In everything you knew about him, it appeared that Mando did not get a particular thrill from killing people that he, personally, had no qualms with. Although you knew that if anyone ever threatened even one white hair on the wrinkled little head of The Child, Mando would not hesitate to cut them down where they stood. 

That evening, The Mandalorian’s exasperation had been evident from the second he had returned to the Razor Crest, ordering you and The Child to hide in the cockpit while he stored the remains so you would not have to witness such a gruesome sight. You knew immediately that the job had not been easy and your heart ached for him. When Mando had given you the all-clear, you had descended the ladder down to the main hull of the ship with shaky hands and legs. Your trembling limbs did not come from the fact you were descending the rungs one-handed and carefully cradling The Child in your other arm, you were well used to that. No, you were dreading seeing Mando so frustrated… because of the way it made you feel. Seeing him so wound up, knowing that you were the one to put his pieces back together in your own subtle way thrilled you. It was a dangerous prospect. 

“I take it the job wasn’t successful?” You questioned, tone neutral. You attempted to appear as nonchalant as possible as you handed The Child to him. You hoped that taking the little one in his arms would go some way to calming him down.

“No,” Mando responded, definitively. His tone of voice made it abundantly clear that he did not want to discuss the matter further with you. 

“Perhaps I could put The Child to bed, while you take a shower?” You offered, wanting to do anything to soothe his frayed nerves. 

Mando shook his head. 

“I’ll do it, thanks,” he added gruffly.

You nodded before turning your back and climbing the ladder back up to the cockpit to give them their space. There was hardly any privacy in a ship so compact. Sometimes it could feel slightly claustrophobic aboard the Razor Crest, but you and Mando had worked a pretty good system out by now so you did not feel as though you were constantly on top of each other. You learned that he was a surprisingly patient man and did not express his anger in the way one might have expected from one capable of so much violence.

It was no surprise when you descended the rungs a while later to find him standing in front of the weapons cabinet, broad shoulders tensed as he examined his impressively-stocked armoury. You didn’t say a word, wondering whether he was about to tell you to return to the cockpit and leave him alone. Though you hoped that he would interpret your presence as a comforting one, not an invasive one. 

“Could you pass me the cleaning cloth, please?” Mando asked.

“Of course,” you replied, opening the crate where he kept his cleaning equipment. You selected the cloth that you knew he favoured and handed it to him, the corners of your lips curving upwards in a slight, shy smile. 

“Thank you,” Mando said appreciatively as his gloved hand rested on your upper arm and squeezed it gently. You sensed that he was thanking you for much more than passing him the cloth. Something about his touch and the way he said it had sickened you to your core. 

“I‘m gonna take a shower,” was all you managed to say, before you turned away from him.

You had practically sprinted to the ‘fresher then, needing privacy more than anything as you crumbled. As tears streamed down your cheeks, you tortured yourself over and over asking the same question:

How could a man capable of such violence be so gentle with you? 

Your soul was truly tortured by the feelings that you held for this man. 

It was that moment you thought of now. A moment amongst many others, as you sat and waited for Mando to return from his latest assignment. You were accustomed to days turning to weeks and weeks even turning to months on the rare occasion. It was a solitary experience, just you and The Child in the Razor Crest. You would not see another life form for weeks. Nor would you speak to anyone other than The Child. You weren't always certain whether he understood you. Mando always left a comlink with you, but it was reachable only by him. It was strictly for emergencies. In all the months that you had travelled with him, it had never once sounded when he was off on a mission. It had led you to wonder whether it even worked at all.

Occasionally, Mando would permit you to leave the ship but on particularly hostile planets, you were confined to the silver hull of his home, with just your ration packs and the mysterious green child for company.

This particular planet was one of such peril. Thus, Mando had forbidden you from leaving the ship. Although you always respected his demands, for The Child’s as much as your own sake, you adored the little guy, the loneliness was beginning to eat into your gut and make you feel grouchy after such a long period of isolation. Mando had told you that he expected the job to last no more than three days, but it was ten since he had crept out in the dead of night, armed to the teeth in pursuit of a crime lord who had made one enemy too many. 

As you lay back on the bunk, thinking of the man who had unexpectedly left such a deep impression on your heart, The Child began mewling. You instantly sat up, sighing softly as you reached into his hammock and stroked the end of one of his large green ears between your thumb and forefinger. 

“What’s up, buddy?” You questioned, rocking him gently and hoping that you had prevented him from dissolving into gut-wrenching sobs.

The Child just gazed at you with his big brown eyes, expression unreadable. 

“Do you want something to eat?” You asked, often knowing that the way to soothe his heart was through his stomach. 

The Child finally gave some indication of what was wrong with a small nod and you opened the door to the bunk and made your way towards the fortunately still well-stocked cupboards. Fortunately, Mando was fastidious in always ensuring there was enough food for the two of you. You appreciated that all the more as you gave The Child a bar which he wolfed down in only a couple of bites, despite his tiny frame. He had been fed barely an hour ago, but the little guy had a voracious appetite.

With a newly full stomach, you hoped that the little womp rat would finally get some sleep when you returned him to his hammock. Yet, as you lay back on your own bunk, you found that you could not settle.

Time became an illusion after so many days cooped up in the Razor Crest and despite the late hour, according to your chrono, you found that you were wide awake. There was nothing to do except pace around the Crest. 

You must have paced around the Crest enough times to cover the circumference of the planet when you were finally on when a sound caused you to stop in your tracks. It sounded like a faint crackle from where your comlink rested on some crates, forgotten and discarded. Until now. You barely had time to react before it chirped into life, with the sound of a familiar deep voice crackling slightly suddenly blaring from it.

Mando was calling your name.

You darted across the hull and scooped up the comlink from its position on top of the very crate from which you had fished out cleaning supplies. You were startled by the fact that Mando was actually using it. 

“It’s Mando,” he panted, tone desperate. “Listen, things aren’t looking good. If I’m not back by sunrise, take The Child and run. Promise me, you’ll get out of there. Promise m–”

Before Mando could finish and much less, could you even respond, the line went dead.

You stood there, startled by the turn of events. Your mind racing with thoughts. Where would you go? Which supplies should you pack? How far away was sunrise from now? Could you even use a blaster to shoot an enemy down, if needed? What were you going to do without Mando? How would you take care of The Child alone?

You wanted to sink to your knees, shout and scream. That was not an option. You knew that you had to keep going. Mando had wanted you to vow to him, which you would have done in a heartbeat had the line not first been cruelly cut. Even if he could not hear you, you still wanted to pledge your word to him.

“I promise I’ll protect The Child, Mando,” you whispered, clutching the comlink to your chest as tears streamed down your cheeks silently and the realisation that you could find yourself alone in the galaxy once more dawned upon you. 

You spent the next couple of hours packing and then repacking as many bags as you could manage to carry and pathetically practising gripping a blaster. Mando had demonstrated once or twice, in case you ever found yourself in a bind. You were certainly in one now, but the adrenaline coursing through your body made it near impossible to remember such careful, deliberate instructions. You contemplated the fact that he had chosen you for a reason, to care for The Child. Whatever such a reason was, it seemed futile now. You were in no fit state to care for anyone.

The guilt threatened to overwhelm you as you spent a few precious minutes watching The Child sleep, blissfully unaware of the anguished state his caregiver was currently in. Your heart ached for him. The bond he shared with Mando was something beyond words and you knew he would be devastated. How could you manage to take care of a distraught child and keep him safe from the same evil forces that had taken his father? 

You checked your chrono, heart sinking as you realised how close sunrise now was. Your heart thundered in your ears as you ascended the ladder for what was almost certainly the last time, your head peeking over the floor of the cockpit as you saw the pitch blackness of night gradually giving way to the lighter shade of blue that indicated that sunrise was imminent. As soon as the sky was flecked with oranges and pinks, you knew you had to obey Mando’s command and leave. 

You imagined him, frightened and injured, stumbling his way through the thick trees you could just about see from the cockpit, desperately fighting to return to you. You willed him on, hoping against all odds that he would make it back to you, safe and sound. You would berate him for putting himself into such a dangerous position. Then, you would piece him back together and prepare him to do it all over again. You were hopelessly devoted to him. Now, such devotion had placed you in this position. Alone, once again.

Alas, despite a valiant effort, Mando's return was not to be. He had tried his best, but it was not good enough. When the sky blazed brilliant bronze, you knew it was time to go. 

You descended the rungs for the last time, bidding a silent farewell to the ship where you had found so much happiness with such an unlikely companion and his even unlikelier son. You felt a lump in your throat, your eyes filling with tears as the finality of the moment dawned on you. Then, you exhaled and pushed your shoulders back, imagining yourself wearing armour like Mando. You had to do it, for him. You had to grant his dying wish. You had to be brave for The Child.

You were only two paces from the bunk when you heard it. The unmistakable whirring of the Razor Crest’s door opening. It was a sound that usually signified Mando's return. This time, though, it signified your imminent demise.

You were frozen to the spot, then. You were certain that the forces that had gotten to Mando were now here to finish you and The Child off, too. You contemplated reaching for the blaster that was in the bags just a few steps away, but you knew it was futile, given your inexperience. The forces that had murdered your Mandalorian would make short work of someone as inept as you. The best you could do was give yourself up, so that The Child may live. Hopefully, he would be undetected in his bunk, sleeping soundly despite the bloodshed just a few paces away.

You shut your eyes and thought of Mando, wondering if you were about to join him. You braced yourself for a blaster shot that never came. For it was not the alien sounds of a mysterious, threatening entity that your ears detected emanating approaching your position. No, it was not that at all.

Instead, you stood there, aghast as the familiar heavy, even thuds and slight clinking of armour echoed with every step up the ramp of the Razor Crest. The reassuring sound finally reached through your frayed nerves and your eyes flew open as you spun around in disbelief. This was not the end. There was no threat. Instead, there was an instantly familiar sound, one that you had feared you would never hear again. The noise signalled to you that somehow, against all odds, he had returned to you.

“Mando?” You questioned, momentarily terrified that an enemy holding a blaster would appear into view behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Mando huffed and you realised that particular fear was unfounded. “Job got a bit messier than I anticipated.”

The only indication of the gravity of his situation that had necessitated his desperate message was the evidence of numerous blaster shots that his armour had clearly taken, given the black marks on its otherwise pristine surface. The corners of your lips curled up in a knowing smirk. You knew he would spend most of your journey to the next planet cleaning every single plate with painstaking attention to detail. 

“But th-the you used the comlink?” You stuttered, aghast at his sudden appearance in the Razor Crest.

“I did,” he confirmed. “And were you about to leave?” Mando asked as he entered the ship and approached you. You were unable to reply with words, suddenly feeling incredibly choked up. You nodded and gestured towards the bags you had hurriedly packed.

“Good,” Mando nodded approvingly.

“I thought you were…” you shook your head, unable to finish that sentence and vocalise the dark places your mind had travelled.

“Dead.” Mando finished for you.

You nodded again. You would almost be amused by his familiar bluntness were you not still so shocked by his presence.

“I had sharper reflexes,” he shrugged cockily, a simple explanation for events that you were sure were far more complex than he was letting on.

“I thought I was alone. I thought I… I thought I’d have to leave here and never see you again,” you stammered, voice cracking at the thought. “Did you at least complete the job?”

“Yes,” Mando nodded. “Proof of termination was sufficient and I acquired it,” he explained, deep voice slightly hoarse thanks to the force that he had undoubtedly exerted in completing such a perilous job. 

“I don’t know if I want to kill you, or kiss you right now,” you sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at his accomplishment. Then, the realisation that you had finally given voice to your most intimate thoughts dawned on you. You clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes widening in horror. You were utterly mortified.

Mando was unmoving, which only added to your panic. You noticed the way his hands clenched into fists briefly and he sighed deeply. Then he tilted his head slightly and unclenched his fists.

“Close your eyes,” Mando commanded. 

Although his voice was quiet, something about the way he said it struck fear into your heart. There was a darkness to his voice, to his tone that terrified you. You were certain that he was going to punish you for such a remark. You had always been slightly afraid of him despite the gentleness he had shown you. Now, it appeared that those lingering fears were well-founded. He was probably disgusted by you. He had taken you in when you were at your lowest, given you a job, a bunk and a purpose. 

Yet, he had unknowingly given you so much more than that. It didn’t matter anymore, though. Especially not now that you had let your feelings get the better of you. You were convinced that he was going to kick you out, convinced that there was absolutely no possibility that he reciprocated your feelings for him. Mando hated you. You were certain of that.  

“Mando, I’m sorry. I didn’t mea–” you stammered, eyes still widened in horror.

The presence of soft leather against your skin abruptly cut your frantic apologies off, mid-utterance. His glove was warm across your forehead, nose and cheeks as his hand dwarfed your features. The loss of vision that came with his gloved hand covering your eyes stopped all coherent thoughts in your brain. The hiss of his helmet depressurising, a sound you had previously heard only through the door of the ‘fresher, made your heart quicken until it was beating with alarming speed. Then, the feeling of his soft lips moving gently against yours caused it to stop completely.

You were struck by two things. Firstly, the fact that the man you had been certain was dead, was not only very much alive but was presently moving his lips against yours. Secondly, underneath his helmet, Mando apparently kept a moustache. You could feel the bristles of his facial hair tickling slightly as his lips claimed yours in a tender kiss.

You were certain that your heart was going to give out if your knees did not first, momentarily fearful that you would send the pair of you crashing in a tangle of limbs to the hard, metallic surface of the Razor Crest’s floor with a thud. Fortunately, you happened to be kissing the most formidable bounty hunter in the parsec, who soon wrapped his spare arm around your waist and demonstrated, in the way that he held you, all the strength and certainty that had gained him such a reputation. You smirked against his lips as the hand that was not currently covering your eyes trailed up your back, travelling across your body over the coat that you had pulled on in preparation for your imminent departure from the Razor Crest. 

The movement of your lips together was electrifying. It confirmed that the connection you were certain had been building between the two of you was real. It felt so natural, as though you had always been destined to be pulled into each other’s orbits in this way. You felt chills traverse your skin as your brain perceived the scent of his glove, given its proximity to your nose. At once, you could smell the story of his perilous brush with death. There was the distinctive smoky scent of explosions, the sharp metallic smell from his ever-steady grip on his blaster, the earthy undertones – no doubt thanks to days of traipsing through undergrowth, – the musky smell that was unmistakably masculine, unmistakably him and finally, the faint hints of leather. As you registered each scent, you were reminded, once again, of the lethality this man was capable of. A man who was currently kissing you with such fondness and affection.

When your lungs started to burn – from the exhilaration or oxygen deprivation, you weren’t sure – Mando finally pulled away, leaving you breathless and dizzy from the events which had just transpired between the two of you. You smiled and bit your lip in glee, as the realisation of the monumental shift in your relationship that had just occurred hit you. You hoped it had not been a one-off, a fleeting moment of carelessness on his part that he would come to regret.

“You couldn’t kill me anyway,” Mando whispered, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. You were stunned. Clearly, that was not the case. This had been a deliberate, measured action on his part.

Then, the tell-tale hissing sound indicated that Mando had replaced his helmet. You couldn’t help the fact that your heart dropped a little at the sound. After all, despite how much you respected his devotion to The Way, there was always a simmering curiosity about his appearance. Especially having just kissed him. You could still feel the slight scratchiness that lingered on your skin from the bristles of his facial hair, a ghost of the kiss you had just shared; a reminder that it had happened.

Mando removed his hand from your eyes and you mourned the loss of contact, having relished the way that his hand had engulfed your face with its enormous size as it drowned your features. He always seemed to be everywhere, a looming presence over you.

“Mando, I –” you began, but he raised the same gloved hand that had just rested against your forehead, cutting you off once again.

“My name is Din,” he said quietly before he lowered his hand again.

“Oh,” you breathed, stunned that he had entrusted you with such a precious piece of information.

Although, given the fact that he had just kissed you, perhaps it was a logical step. Nevertheless, you appreciated the fact that you finally had a name to put to the deep voice you adored. Din, not Mando, was the man who had just stolen all rational thought from your mind with the gentle touch of his lips.

You smiled then, the first genuine smile that had graced your features since Din had left the Razor Crest ten days previously. Only a few minutes ago, you had feared that he would never return. Now, just when you had been certain your life with him was over, it appeared that it was just beginning.

As the sun rose over the Razor Crest, still surrounded by the trees of the forest planet you had been certain would be the location of an ending, it was clear that a new dawn was here for you and Din. A beginning was upon you, the start of something beautiful.

It was the first kiss you had shared with Din. But you were certain that it would not be your last.

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal characters #my fics #inbox #request #suresnips

[thepersonnamedsam]

down under - dr3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

summary: daniel shows you the real down under in australia

word count: 1.6k

warnings: smut, basically porn with a little plot, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, mentions of a possible daddy kink, maybe kind of public sex idk, just danny devouring the female body

note: please be disgusted with me

masterlist / taglist

Your relationship with Danny was easy to describe; it was just like two horny teens who haven’t seen each other for a weak. Not that you just fucked, no love was always involved. Especially the times you fucked. You could have the filthiest sex in history and the next day it was just giggles and cuddles during your sex times.

Danny always tried to make you comfortable. You didn’t like the position; change. Leg cramp? He was massaging it. He did everything for you, that man devoured you.

He showed you pleasure on a different level. Like the time he ate you out in his childhood bedroom.

You were visiting Australia for the first time, you and Danny had been dating for about 6 months before you finally met his family. Perth was beautiful, but so was Australian Danny. He was glowing and so happy and smiley. You’ve never seen him this way and it made you extra horny. Like, you were constantly thinking about him in ways you shouldn’t in front of his family.

He could sense your mood and you definitely had an advantage; hiding his hard on was much harder than hiding your wetness.

His father was doing a bbq in the backyard. His sister Michelle and his mother Grace sitting outside on the patio with Daniel and you. You sitting between his legs, back leaning against his chest. Your hands playing with his ring. The only thing you could think of was his finger inside of you. The thought already clouding your brain and wetness spreading between your thighs. Daniel noticed you shifting.

Crossing your legs so you could have at least some friction and not seem like a sex-drunk slut in front of his family. Danny being Danny let his fingers dance over your naked skin. Reading you and knowing exactly what he was doing to you. You were biting your lip, trying to suppress a moan leaving your mouth. Danny wasn’t innocent, no not in the slightest. He was the one bringing fire into the bedroom. But him teasing you in front of his mother and sister, that was new, even for him.

You felt him growing underneath you, his shorts growing tighter by the second. He cleared his throat. All eyes on you two now. „I want to show y/n something before dad‘s finished with the barbie“, his voice thick and filled with lust, only noticeable by you, at least you hoped so. „Are you going to show her the secret spot behind the ranch?“, his sister asked. „That‘s the one!“, he told her. „Just be back in time for dinner, I don’t want to get you two from behind the ranch, and be careful, will you?“ His mothers voice not showing any interest in what you were actually doing.

He was leading you to his bedroom where he spent his whole childhood years in. The walls plastered with esther Senna or Schumacher posters. But you couldn’t really tell, because as soon as the door closed he was on you like a hungry lion. Kissing your lips with a hunger that could not yet be satisfied. Hands roaming your body, taking off your singlet. You were not wearing a bra underneath it, the weather too hot.

„Ugh, you’re going to kill me one day“, his words blocked out by your nipple in his mouth. Teeth only ever just gracing your nipples, sucking and licking. The other breast received the same attention as the other; his hand was playing, grabbing and pinching it. You were already a moaning mess just from him sucking and fondling with your breasts. If it went on like this, you would be screaming down the whole house by the end of the night.

His clothes still on, you reached your hands to tug on his shirt. Understanding the thing you wanted, he shrugged it off and you had the best view of his torso. You could come off by just looking at him. He was a god sent creature. „Now now, missy, we use our words. I let that one slide because it did seem a bit unfaire with you half naked and me fully clothed. But next time; use your words.“ His words leaving his mouth but only half reaching your ears, your mind already somewhere else. Hearts racing and bodies sweating. Rubbing against each other, not knowing which body fluid belonged to whom.

His tongue leaving trails on your upper body, not knowing where his trail was going exactly, just feeling his wetness on your skin. Sighing you reached for his hair, tugging at it and signalling him to do more. „Words“, was his only response. It was hard for you to get out a sentence that made sense.

„Danny, I-, I need more“, stuttering from pleasure. You were watching him closely as he smirked. „Your wish is my command.“

Hands fumbling with the button of your hotpants. Finally the zipper was opened and the shorts slid down your legs. Stepping out of them, Danny already smelled your wetness. Groaning and feeling how his dick got harder, again. He just couldn’t wait to eat you out. „So wet and just for me.“

You sat down on his bed and slid to the end of it, back now leaning against the headboard. Danny looked at you with this hungry eyes and you knew, shit was about to go down.

He was crawling to you. Fingers already hooked on the waistbands of your panties.

„Can I?“, ever so gently he asked you. You nodded. „Words. This is the last time I‘m telling you“, there he was again. „Yes, please take them off“, you begged. „Good girl.“

Panties landing on the floor, he was looking at all your glory. He took a deep breath in and looked you in the eyes. „I love you“, that was the only thing he said before he dug in.

Tongue leaping between your folds. Tasting your sweetness and pleasuring him at the same time; Danny was dry humping the mattress to release some kind of tension. His dick as hard as a rock and not finding enough to bring him to the edge. It was not the same feeling as being buried deep into you, but it gave him something. His whole body moving rhythmically. His cock pressed deep down into the bed, the sheets already stained with his pre-cum. It’s leaking like crazy, just because of the sight in front of him. The wet patch growing bigger and bigger.

His nose ever so gracing your clit; it sent you to heaven. You riding his nose; ugh, it felt amazing. You couldn’t even think about the fact that his parents and sister were right outside, you just had this amazing feeling on your mind. The thrill of being caught had you experiencing the pleasure more intensely. Moaning and heavy breathing filled the bedroom. It smelled like sex, the tension so thick you could’ve cut it with a knife. His tongue already feeling like a knife against your pussy, sharp and bringing you to the edge. The feeling so blissful, you never wanted to let it go.

His tongue now in your hole, sending you into a blissful state. Feeling it inside your walls, hitting that special spot that only his tongue could hit. His nose still pleasuring your clitoris, rubbing up and down with every move; in and out. His big nose, the thought had you moaning even more. His mouth sending you to heaven. You had to grab something, his hair, the bedsheets, the headboard, you didn’t know and you didn’t care. It just had to be something. The pleasure not bearable. He was sending you into the orbit of pleasure.

Tongue now flat against your pussy, licking and slurping away. You felt his every taste bud, or at least you thought so. It bringing you more to the edge. You were moaning like there was no tomorrow.

„I want to hear you scream, scream my name, little one.“

So you gave it your all, screaming his name. Feeling the familiar knot in your stomach you screamed harder and louder, not caring about anyone hearing you. He was loving it, taking it all in and feeling all the glory you you gave him.

„I think-, I think I‘m near, please, Danny please!“

His cock not finding any relieve in the mattress anymore, he stopped pressing his dick against it. Your orgasm hit you hard, harder than ever before, the fact that his family could‘ve heard you added to the thrill and to the experiencing high. Helping you ride out your orgasm, Danny stuck two fingers into your pussy, slowly pulling them out and pushing them in again. Your hips bucked into his hands, the hand he was not using holding them down. He was sending you into an overload. Your second orgasm already reaching you and your body. It hit you second time, this time more extrem and definitely blissfully beautiful.

Hearing you cum two times and moan his name gave him the rest. His semen squirting into his underpants and wetting them even more. You were breathing heavy and looking at him, lust still prominent in your eyes. You definitely could‘ve gone for a third round.

„Did you cum?“, your question was justified as he has not received anything from you to make him cum. He nodded: „Your pleasure brings me the greatest pleasure.“ You were in awe, the man before you, so determined to make you cum that he cum‘s with it.

#daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 smut #smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader

[megu-meow]

take my breath - sukuna

Part 4 of my Hockey Player Sukuna Series - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Lmk if you want to be added to the tag list! :D

This part is shit, I'm sorry. After TTPD I found myself unable to write fluff, but I've kept people waiting, so I had to force myself to write this.

When Sukuna says soon, he means the next Thursday. He calls you on Wednesday after practice to ask you formally whether you could keep your schedule open for the next evening and you agree, because you have been waiting for your date for a few days now. However, you find yourself frustratedly trying on every piece of clothing you own, being indecisive about what to wear. You want to look good for him, because as you shyly admitted to your brother, you really like Sukuna. He's rough around the edges, but he seems like a good guy, unlike all the other people you've dated before. You contemplate calling one of the girls, but Senna and Akane love to gossip, and for the time being, you'd like to keep this little date with Sukuna a secret. So you call the only person you can trust in this situation.

Sophia arrives ten minutes after calling her saying you need help getting dressed for a date. She's the only one of the girls who knows that you have something going on with Sukuna, it makes total sense to reach out to her in your current circumstance. You already made her swear on your brother's life that she's not going to say anything about it to the girls, so you're safe in that regard. Plus, she has a keen sense of style, which comes in handy considering you want to impress the pink-haired centerman with your looks. You noticed already how many pretty girls were wearing his jersey to games, you know that he could have any of them at his disposal in a second. It still seems sketchy that he became so fond of you in such a short period of time, but you're not complaining.

"He was so nervous when I left, Kento thought he was going to explode." Sophia says as you try to put socks on, balancing on one foot.

"Who was?" you look at her and you nearly kiss the ground, regaining your balance at the last second.

"Sukuna, of course. He's been pacing around the apartment like a maniac all day."

"Really?" you ask timidly.

"Yeah. Kento said he had never seen him so stressed." for some reason hearing this makes you smile and your heart warm. Sukuna doesn't strike you as someone who would be nervous about dates, but you already learned not to assume anything about him, because he always surprises you with the way he acts.

"I'm kinda nervous too. I want this to go well." you explain and you try to put your earrings in. As you look at yourself in the mirror, wearing the outfit your sister-in-law put together, you're content with your reflection. You look amazing and you feel confident in the pieces you're wearing. Your makeup and hair are done in your usual way, you don't want to look like a completely different person. Apparently, Sukuna agrees that you look good. Because the moment you open your door for him, he freezes in place, with his eyes wide and glimmering. For a second you think something is wrong, but those thoughts are quickly dismissed as he speaks.

"You look beautiful, y/n." he states, his voice softer than you've ever heard. He is wearing a burgundy suit, one that complements his skin tone. His hair is sleeked back, but it still looks effortless in a way. You can smell his usual cologne, the musky scent that lingers. It suits him.

"Says you, handsome." you compliment him back and you swear a blush appears on his cheek. Suddenly, he remembers something, and he gives you the flowers he was hiding behind his back all this time. "Thank you! What happened to all flowers are stupid?" you ask as you smell the peonies in your hand.

"Well I got you some sunflowers, but your brother told me I was insane, so he dragged me to a florist to get 'ones that girls actually like'." he explains.

"He's right, you know? You made me wait four days for this date, the least you can do is give me some girly flowers." you joke and he rolls his eyes. Nonetheless, he reaches out for your hand. You slip it in his palm, which is calloused from holding a hockey stick most hours of a day, but very warm.

"Listen, woman, I made you wait because I wanted to take you to a 3 Michelin Star restaurant that specializes in your favorite food." he explains as he opens the door of his car for you to hop in.

"What?" you ask in shock before he closes the door after you. He leans down, looking into your eyes with a smirk across his face.

"You heard me, y/n. Now, don't be so shocked, I told you I would go all out for our date."

"You didn't have to though. You could have taken me to a hole-in-the-wall ramen place and I would have liked it." you say, slightly feeling bad "How did you manage to get a table anyway? These places are booked months ahead."

"The owner is a huge Wizards fan and apparently I'm his kid's favorite player. I had the team sign a jersey and got them season tickets, so they were glad to do me a small favor in return." he explains like it is nothing, but it means the world to you. No one has ever done something so grand for a date with you. It makes your heartbeat go nuts and you can't help but stare at him as he drives. You observe his tattooed hand that is on the armrest, shaking slightly. You smile and instinctively take it in yours, laying your intertwined hands in your lap. He turns his head towards you in shock, but he quickly looks back to the road. The blush from before returns, even his neck turns pink, and you smile, adoring his reactions.

The dinner goes by fast, despite lasting for hours. The food is exquisite, as expected. Most importantly, there's not one dull moment. You and Sukuna talk like you've known each other your whole lives. He asks about your interests, what you like to do in your free time, where you went to school, and about your friends. He seems interested in everything you talk about, he listens with an intensity you find rare. He drinks up every single word that leaves your mouth, he asks questions, and he's genuinely curious about how you perceive the world. You ask him plenty of questions yourself and he answers them gladly. He seems very fond of his brothers, he shows you pictures of them and you observe how Yuji has the same color hair as him and Choso has a very similar line tattooed on his nose as Sukuna's.

"They're coming to town soon, by the way." he comments and your eyes light up.

"How come?"

"It's Yuji's draft year and it's held here in Tokyo. Choso just tags along because he clings to that brat like a leech."

"That's so rude!" you exclaim, but you're smiling. You're aware that Sukuna probably shows his love towards his brothers a little bit peculiarly.

"Well, it's true."

"Do you see a chance of Yuji being drafted by the wizards?" you ask.

"Not really. He is prospected to be in the top three of the draft and we are clinching the playoffs this next game as number one in the league. We probably won't have a pick in the top ten."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It would have been cool for him to have you on the team he's drafted to."

"I don't think so. If I'm being honest, I'm glad there is little to no chance for that to happen as of now."

"Why is that?"

"He won't have a target on his back. Otherwise, people would be mean to him and would rough him up with the sole purpose of pissing me off. This way he can become a professional player without being concussed every game."

"You're very protective of your brothers, huh?" you ask and he smiles.

"You could say that." he smirks "I'm protective of everything I own, you know." he adds looking into your eyes deeply. You know there is a deeper meaning behind his words. He's implying that he would be just as safeguarding about you if you were his girlfriend. You find it hard to believe that a guy like him exists. He is so charming but respectful. He is attentive, you mentioned one time what your favorite food was and he remembered, moreover, he went out of his way to get you the best version available of it.

"Where were you my whole life?" you ask, not realizing that you blurted out your thoughts just like that. You feel embarrassed as your hands fly to your runny mouth, covering it. However, Sukuna just laughs. He rarely laughs like this. It comes deep from within, the type that shakes your whole body and you're sure you're red like a lobster as you observe him.

"Sweetheart, I've been asking that question about you since December." he answers, his charming smile never fading.

"December?" you question.

"Oh, I thought your brother told you about that too." he seems shocked, but he continues "I've spotted you in the crowd at the Family Game in Kyoto. I was mesmerized, I even ran into one of my teammates on accident, I was too preoccupied with looking at the angel in the Wizards jersey."

"Oh, I remember that. I was laughing about that with Akane." you recall and Sukuna frowns "So you've had your eyes sat on me since then?"

"Well, I didn't know I was going to meet you on my first day in Tokyo while I was shirtless, but destiny has its way, I guess."

"You believe we were destined to meet?"

"I told you before, sweetheart, I am superstitious. Take that as you want, but I do think we are here having dinner for a reason." he explains.

Your date ends when the restaurant staff asks you nicely to leave because they've been closed for two hours already. You didn't even realize that all the other customers had left and the staff was ready to close. Sukuna pays for the bill and he sends you a death glare when you offer to pay for your part. "Woman, you won't have to pay for anything while you are out with me." he states, irritation evident in his tone. He also drives you home and walks you to your door. You're wearing his suit jacket, because you were a bit cold, although he turned the heater on in the car.

"Thank you for tonight! I had a lot of fun." you smile up at him, as you're trying to say goodbye on your doorstep.

"There is nothing to be thankful for, you got what you deserve, princess." he says and he seems a little bit disappointed, but you're not able to determine why. Maybe the date didn't go as well in his perspective as you thought.

"Is something wrong? Did I say something to offend you?" you ask in panic and he quickly shakes his head, dismissing it. Suddenly the redness returns to hiss tattooed cheeks and he suddenly seems nervous.

"I just thought I deserved a kiss after that." he whispers shyly, his face down, gaze locked on the tip of his shoes.

It's your turn to laugh at his awkwardness, but you still cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him in for a kiss. You don't quite understand where all this fearlessness came into you from, but you're glad it did because the kiss is magical. It's soft but eager and you can feel him smiling into it as his large hands find their destined spot in your hips. You're the one to break the kiss, but Sukuna pulls you in closer, resting his forehead on yours, and looking deeply into your eyes. His smile reaches his ears and he whispers to you softly:

"I hate to break it to you princess, but I don't think I can go on with my life without doing that every day."

You smile, and respond with a smile just as wide as his "Good, because I don't think I can either."

The next day is game day and you arrive at your brother's apartment beforehand. You usually drive with them to the arena. Sukuna emerges from his room in his game-day suit, his eyes glowing up the moment he sees you there.

"We're gonna be down at the car, Bambi." Sophia says as she and Kento leave in a hurry.

Sukuna steps closer to you, embracing you, his muscular arms around your shoulders.

"Hello, princess! How are you?"

"I'm great, Sukuna. Thank you for asking! How are you?"

"Better now that I know you're coming to the game to cheer me on." you smile, stepping away from the embrace, and you look into his eyes. "Are you gonna give me a good luck kiss or what?"

You're surprised by his boldness, but you leave a peck on his lips nonetheless.

"If I do good today, you're gonna have to do that before every game." he states.

"Alright. You've got yourself a deal." you smile and you urge him out the door, before your brother and his wife could start thinking that you're doing something inappropriate in their home.

Good does not describe the way Sukuna plays that night. He has one of the best games of his life and after the first goal, as his celebration, he looks towards where you're standing and points at you with a wide smile on his face. This is your sign that from now on, you're gonna have to keep your promise of giving him a good luck kiss before every game.

🩵 Tag list: @ichorstainedskin @ureuphoriasworld @new-weather47 @deepchromatose @cvr2mya @janrcrosssing @bakuhoes-bxtch @deluluforcarlos55 @stainednailpolishremover @thejujvtsupost @bleachisfood @dorck26 @chilichopsticks @when-worlds-end 🩵

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #sukuna #sukuna imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #Ren Writes - Sukuna ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[red-flagging]

💛 seb/lewis :-)

(kiss fic prompts!)

a little epilogue to rabbits are chasing :)

Lewis's flight lands at 8:02PM, which means that by 7:31PM, Seb is parked outside the airport arrivals door, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and scanning the sky for approaching planes.

It's quite silly, getting here so early, but it's not as if there's much left to do at home. There's roast vegetables waiting in the oven, the cauliflower steaks that he started marinating earlier this morning chilling in the fridge. Mina and Ellie are safely ensconced in their duck coop with the heater turned on for the night. The sheets on the guest bed are freshly washed.

The car parked behind him starts up. Its headlights illuminate Seb's cabin. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of himself, harried and too-bright, in the rearview mirror. He scrubs his hands down his face. Christ. Get it together, Sebastian. He is a full 39 years old. Far too old to be getting the same jitters that he did the first time he invited a girl over at age 17, agonizing about what album to have playing when they came back to his room. Lewis is far too old for Seb to be doing all this. Lewis might not even be gay.

His phone buzzes. Seb nearly jumps out of his seat.

Lewis

just landed

getting my luggage now

hows it so freaking cold here

The inside of the car is already fogging up. When he'd asked Lewis to send dates he could come visit and Lewis had said just so you know the next few months are kind of crazy for me, Seb had expected late fall, maybe the holidays. Not the middle of slush season, when all the roads up the mountain have a 50/50 chance of being so muddy that they're undriveable.

Sebastian

I'm outside, in the blue Infiniti :)

He glances back up at himself in the mirror. The scab from where a wood chip caught the corner of his eyebrow while he was sanding the new planter box is almost healed over. His hair looks as good as it's ever going to. If Lewis asks whether he's been using conditioner, he's fucked.

It shouldn't feel like this. Seb beat Lewis to Senna's record, and Lewis still laughed at all his jokes the next season. Lewis watched Seb DNF twice in five races and still said in the media pen that he was waiting for the day Seb would be back up on the podium with him. When they inevitably auction off Lewis's Le Mans racesuit, it'll have to be with Seb's snot all over the front of it, because Lewis let Seb sob all over him and then laughed as he wiped sweat off of Seb's cheek with the sleeve. After all that – the fact that he's about to be in Seb's house for the next week shouldn't make Seb feel like he's standing in front of Lewis naked, without even the promise of a fast car or a good competition to distract Lewis from looking right at him.

His phone buzzes again.

Lewis

outside i think

Seb peers through the windscreen. Lewis – or rather, the blurry figure lugging a giant suitcase behind him that he assumes is Lewis – waves at him from the sidewalk. Seb flashes his lights at him twice.

The back door opens and Lewis's head, along with a burst of cold night air, pops in. "Hey," he says, a little breathlessly. "I don't think this is going to fit in the back."

It does, eventually, but not without a fight that involves Seb having to climb into the trunk alongside Lewis's suitcase and physically wrestle it into place while Lewis shoves from behind. They're both out of breath by the time they finally climb back in the front and slam the doors shut.

"You know, there are beds at the farm," Seb points out. "You didn't have to pack your own."

Lewis shakes his head, tugging off his gloves. His coat collar is turned up around his neck. He's wearing an an ear warmer headband, held in place by two butterfly pins. Every other bit of uncovered skin is pink, even with the heat in the car up at full blast. Lewis shoves his fingers in front of the vents and sighs with relief, closing his eyes. "Ugh, thank God," he says. He sounds exhausted. "Listen, you're lucky I fit everything into one." It sounds far less like a joke than Seb would hope. The fact that the fondness in Seb's chest still manages to outweigh the exasperation is probably a sign that Seb's beyond salvation.

"Next time I'll bring a trailer so you can fit your bathtub and toilet, too," he says, reaching for the keys. The engine purrs to life as he flicks the lights back on, then leans forward to scrub the worst of the fog off the windscreen. The thermometer on the dash says it's still 3 degrees outside. They might still be able to make it back before the slush freezes over. "Okay," he says, sitting back down and twisting around to reach for his seatbelt. "Ready to go?"

Lewis doesn't say anything. When Seb looks over, he's staring out the front window, playing with one of his rings.

"Lewis?" Seb asks.

Lewis's head jerks around. "Hm?" he says. "Oh. Yeah." He doesn't move to put on his seatbelt.

Seb frowns. Kills the engine so he can properly turn in his seat. "Lewis," he says. "Is everything –"

Lewis leans across the console and kisses him.

It's barely half a second. Seb still hasn't moved by the time Lewis sits back down on his side of the car.

"Uh," Lewis says, after a second. He clears his throat. "Sorry. I just – Shit. Sorry. The whole way over, all I could think about was – I had to get it over with before I chickened out."

He's fiddling with his rings again, but his eyes stay fixed on Seb's. His jaw is set. He still looks half-ready to bolt through the door behind him, out into the night.

"Well, you don't have to make it sound like taking your medicine, Christ," Seb says hoarsely, and drags Lewis back across the console to kiss him properly.

Lewis's lips are still cold. When Seb opens his mouth, Lewis sighs, pressing in closer with a soft sound that makes Seb want to go twenty years back in time and kick himself for not figuring out how to make Lewis make that noise sooner. His hands settle on Seb's wrists, holding him in place. Seb slides his own hands up, cradling the back of Lewis's head, to return the favor.

When he finally pulls away just far enough to catch his breath, Lewis follows him, close enough that their noses bump. His eyes are wide. This close up, Seb can see the dark circles under them more clearly.

He closes his eyes. Lewis is still there when he opens them.

"How long have you been awake?" he asks.

Lewis blinks. "What," he says. "Are you talking about."

"Sleep deprivation," Seb says. His heart is pounding hard enough that he feels it in his throat. "People start to get delirious when they're tired enough –"

"I was awake for 24 hours and I didn't kiss you at the end," Lewis interrupts, his eyes sharp and bright. "I'm not making the same mistake twice."

Seb opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He tries again. Still nothing.

"Fuck," he says, closing his eyes. "Okay. Okay." He drags himself back upright and reaches for the keys. "We can – tomorrow. But we should – you need to shower. And sleep." Lewis's hand settles on his leg. Seb rests his own on top of it; after a second, he squeezes Lewis's fingers gently. Lewis flips his hand over and laces their fingers together.

"Yeah," Lewis says. His thumb traces over Seb's knuckles. "That – tomorrow sounds good."

The slush crackles under the tires when Seb starts to move. Ahead of them, the headlights carve a path through the darkness. Lewis's hand is a solid, steady weight against his leg. "Okay," Seb says, to himself, to both of them, to no one. Lewis hums softly from his side of the car. He squeezes Seb's knee gently.

Seb closes his eyes for a second. "Okay," he says quietly. "Yeah. Let's go home."

#my fic #collarboen #rpf #sorry to possibly?? retcon the fade to black kiss at the end of rabbits are chasing and be like PSYCH it took 9 months after that...but in #my heart this has always* been the truth #*i came up with it ten minutes into brainstorming this prompt but now i'm attached to it and have accepted it into my heart and home #the post-retirement post-gay awakening post-journey of self acceptance slow burn slash anxiety spiral #that happened over the 9 month interlude on lewis's end is left as a thought experiment for the reader :) #thank u for giving me an excuse to write this autumn :) #i am slowly making my way through the rest of these lol ty to everyone who has sent them in they've been so fun!! #you are welcome to send in more but just be warned that the next batch will probably take. much longer lol. but i will keep doing my best 🫡

[carboysandbikemen]

Which driver would accompany you to buy lingerie, which driver would buy it without you knowing

Honestly would let any of these drivers do either of these. Love this ask, thank you:

Lewis- Lewis would love both. He would absolutely buy it you without you knowing, getting you the latest designer pieces and then anything he thinks you would look great in (and that he wants to see you in). He enjoys that he can just buy you expensive things to fit his expensive taste. Although he wouldn't suggest it, he would absolutely come with you to shop for it, and would probably call ahead so you could have the shop to yourselves.

Charles- Charles loves coming with you, he likes watching you shop, seeing what you chose and show to him so he can give you a little smile and a nod of approval. Which let’s be honest, he does with anything you choose because if it makes you happy it makes him happy. For those of you (us) who love needy little sub Charles he would start out by asking you how it felt, what it was like. Maybe he'd buy some as a surprise for you to see him in. Then, when you shop you'd pick out things for each other, knowing looks as you say 'how about this?' holding something up you know he'd look perfect in. Watching him blush and nod.

George- George is a versatile man, he enjoys what each of these options has to offer. When he comes with you to buy them he lets you chose some, and slips in some he wants you to try too. At more high end places with private changing rooms he likes to watch as you try each one on, telling you how gorgeous you are and letting you know which are his favourites. Part of it for him is the exhibitionism of it all, while knowing that he is the only one that can see you like this. George would also enjoy buying you things, leaving them on the bed with a small note telling you to be wearing it for when he gets back. He enjoys seeing you in the things he's chosen, and being able to slowly take them off you.

Daniel- Daniel would enjoy going with you because he would enjoy seeing you pick things to look good for him. He would also sneak in anything he realllllly wants to see you in too. If you went shopping alone he'd want you to take pics in the changing room for him so he can 'approve them'- which he always does but he wants you to keep sending the pics anyway. In terms of buying it for you, it wouldn't be a regular thing but he would absolutely buy you lingerie for special occasions.

Sebastian- Red Bull Seb would absolutely want to go with you to pick them. He'd smile cheekily at you as he picks things he wants to see you in. He likes to know whats coming and it definitely gets him all riled up to imagine you in them. Current Seb would buy them for you, often without you knowing as a surprise. You probably think this is really nice and cute of him, but really it’s because you're then wearing exactly what he wants to see you in.

Fernando- Let’s be honest, he just assumes you’re happy to get your own so doesn’t consider either. Oh he would pay for it sure, and oh does he enjoy seeing you in it, but he enjoys the surprise. He likes you in anything. It’s his god given right as a two time world champion to see you in sexy lingerie, but he’s too busy with el plan to buy you them.

Senna- He’d buy it for himself and buy a strap on for you. He’d go with you to pick stuff out for him cause he wants you to pick for him sometimes, he wants to be pretty for you. (we refuse to to apologise for how we project onto Senna- the man’s too pretty okay. Babygirl.)

Fabio- You would buy some for him as a surprise and he’d really enjoy it. How it fits, the feel of it, how good he looks for you. He’d want to go with you to pick pieces after that, and he’d like to help choose for you too then. You've gotta look hot while topping this man.

Honourable Mentions

Carlos- Don't normally write for Carlos but I have a specific thing in my head for like hetero dom (in a 'call me daddy' type way) Carlos and this fits so well because he would absolutely buy you things all the time so you look good and pretty for him. You would put them on for him and kneel as he calls you a good girl. -🐝

Toto- This man screams 'buys you lingerie as a surprise on the reg'. No further comments.

(x)

#f1blr #f1 imagine #george russell imagine #george russell smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel smut #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso smut #ayrton senna smut #ayrton senna imagine #fabio quartararo imagine #fabio quartararo smut #george russell #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #sebastian vettel #fernando alonso #ayrton senna #fabio quartararo #toto wolff #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz imagine #ask

[vigilbutts]

uhhh i saw people doing these so why not. anyways.

Additional stuff below readmore

Kalla is great for cuddling with and she can even become a furnace if you're feeling cold. A very fluffy snuggly furnace. She loves picking people up and fighting or wrestling with people... and holding people... Very hands-on gal. Get manhandled, nerd (but only if you're down for that). Just... don't let her cook anything. It will be both burnt and undercooked at the same time. There is also a chance she won't know it's a romantic date instead of a platonic date, because she is kinda dense. Lastly, don't mind the flames, they won't hurt you.

Luis gets a bit awkward on dates or when talking with new people because he is a bit of a workaholic and does not socialize all that much. He hates dressing up and doesn't care too much for overly fancy settings, so this WILL be a "casual" date...with lovely food they've cooked just for you (and if you like eating fish, he will catch them himself! for you!). It is an expensive restaurant high quality meal, without the expensive restaurant. They will also fall asleep during cuddles (he loves naps... and is afflicted with permanent sleepy bitch disease). May potentially show you his knife collection.

Aster is a big fan of making things go boom, so, naturally, that will be included in any date she goes on. But hey, you get a personalized fireworks show in the middle of nowhere (the only place she's allowed to make boom happen 😔). Also, she might even give you a piece of shrapnel she thought was cool. Or a rock. Or a piece of dragonbrand if yall really hit it off (yes, it would be a piece of her brand, chipped right off her hair branches). She doesn't really get what dates are beyond 'romantic stuff' and her love language is explosions and whatever cool thing she just found.

Senna will bring honey as a little date treat to share. She doesn't talk much and is very quiet when she does speak, as she prefers to Observe and listen. If you like to talk a lot, she will let you do it! Also, bonus points if you ask her about her interest in bees, she will hit you with the bee hyperfixation beam. Also, yes, the honey she brings is from her bee friends, and she will tell you all about the bees' favorite flowers.

The Ladies is your regular everyday overpowered sentient magical anomaly (mesmer flavored). She is very chaotic by nature of being a bundle of sentient magic, but she means well. Also they will be wearing a different outfit every time you look away. Because fuck you, magic wardrobe change. Also, she should not be the one organizing or planning the date, absolutely do NOT let her have that responsibility. She doesn't even know what a date is supposed to be like 😭. Also when you date The Ladies, you are also dating their clones. Because the clones are them, they are the clones. It's fine, dating her is like having 50 partners but they're all the same person.

Mesmer!Luis is less shy and awkward than his canon counterpart when it comes to dating, but is also slightly less of a romantic. He also doesn't have quite the same hangups around dressing up (but he will be very unhappy if he can't "dress" a little slutty with his illusions) and fancier settings! He will only cook you a little dessert treat and not a whole meal, but will let you touch his chest or biceps, if you like. Absolute cuddle fiend and he's warmer than a human should be, but it's fine, promise. This version is also less likely to fall asleep, but the chances are still decent enough that he might! Could be convinced to show off and flex his fun little mesmer tricks, if asked.

Beans is just a lil creature! This gremlin is not supposed to be charr in their usual form, so they are a little awkward and clumsy with this new form. May whack you with it's tail, that thing is sososo long compared to the tail it is used to. It will probably drag you into some wild adventure or scheme. It will also break the 4th wall and get very Meta. Beans is also very fond of memes and bright colors.

Alice has been a ghost since King Adelbern betrayed his people and bound their spirits to fight for an eternity against the charr. Alice is not fully bound any longer. In her free time, she enjoys a bit of sparring and... well... all this freedom is new so she doesn't know much about her own likes and interests beyond that! Also, she is like, really cute. If she likes you enough, she may even take off her helmet for you. She may also be subject to outbursts as she fights to keep control of herself. It would be Very Bad if the Foefire takes over (I advise running, if such a thing were to happen).

#text #some of these nerds have canon partners but! this is for funsies #had to include the silly meme options #also sorry i like taking character screens in mistlock for the lighting!!!! lmao #gw2 #valentines meme

[wild-karrde]

In Command - Part 12

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: HELLO I AM BACK! The Bolts series kind of took over my brain, but I HAVE RETURNED! This chapter took a LONG time because I really wanted to get it (and the next few right) since it contains some of the most significant changes from the original fic. I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT! As always, thank you to the OUTSTANDING @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading for me, knocking ideas around, and reassuring me when I was second-guessing everything. YOU ARE THE BEST TJ!

Chapter Rating: E

Warnings: explicit sexual content (fingering, PiV sex, cum eating), language

Word Count: 9.6k words

“How can this be so kriffing boring?” Senna muttered, rubbing her face. “I really thought this talk would have at least some worthwhile details in it, but the guy giving it has to have been around when they invented the hyperdrive.”

Rex chuckled into his cup of caf. “Oh, come on. I don’t think it’s so bad.”

Senna rolled her eyes at him. “Of course you wouldn’t. You two geezers are kindred spirits.”

“I’m technically younger than you, you know. Accelerated aging and all that.”

She rolled her eyes again, and Rex nudged her with an elbow. It seemed as though she was in higher spirits today, and he couldn’t be certain if it was because the meet with Fisk was set for tomorrow or if there was something else at play. Even her frustration and complaining seemed more light-hearted, and it had made the burden he carried feel slightly more tolerable.

Maybe it was the right call to allow her to do this.

As the speaker wrapped up the session, Senna sighed, powering down the comm node. “Well that was another day wasted.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he countered. “We learned some more of the command structure. That’s important.”

“But we need more. I need to know what that super weapon is. All we know is that it’s a game-changer in the Empire’s eyes, but we’ve hardly learned anything else helpful. No build schedule, no people running the project, not even the mention of where it’s happening.” She was pulling her bun down and massaging her scalp, her hair hanging in front of her face like an auburn curtain. Rex tried to stifle a smile as she huffed, causing some of the hair to flutter before she whipped it back over her shoulders and down her back. She chewed a thumbnail before turning her attention to a parcel that she’d brought home with her earlier in the week. He hadn’t questioned it, but his curiosity was piqued as she grabbed it and headed into the ‘fresher.

Probably going out for her nightly walk, he thought as he reached for the datapad she’d been using to take notes. He also dug his hand in the bag of sweets she’d bought back earlier in the week, popping one of the candies in his cheek as he began reviewing her notes.

There has to be something here worthwhile.

He still shared her frustration, but he felt he needed to remain optimistic, if nothing else other than for her mental state. His eyes flicked to the door of the ‘fresher as he heard the shower turn on.

Maybe she’s just getting ready for bed tonight.

He wondered if her not going out meant something. He sucked on the candy in his cheek.

A short while later, Senna emerged, but when she did, she wasn’t wearing a new set of clothes to sleep in. Rex had to clench his jaw to keep it from falling open.

She’d swept her hair back in a slightly more stylized bun with smaller braids tucked into it, but she’d allowed some wisps to hang free, framing her face. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she was wearing a bit of makeup, just enough to accentuate her eyes. But the thing that surprised him most was the cerulean sundress she was wearing. The fabric was simple enough, but the cut hung perfectly on her, outlining her curves in ways that somehow made her eyes sparkle even more. Thin straps laid across her shoulders, weaving across her back in a simple pattern, and the skirt swept to halfway down her shins. It was modest compared to some of the garments he’d seen in his time, but somehow alluring in ways that made sweat break out across the back of his neck. She’d pulled her boots back on underneath and was reaching for her jacket when she seemed to finally notice him staring.

“There’s a festival tonight. Kind of wanted to go see what it’s about,” she said quietly. She brushed a piece of hair behind one ear, sheepishly smiling as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“By yourself?” The question came out more accusing than Rex meant, and Senna ducked her head, rubbing the back of her neck.

“There’s a big dinner tonight for the conference. All of the Imps should be there. Figured it’d be safe enough on my own.”

“Oh.”

“I-I just… I didn’t know if… I didn’t know if you’d want to go.” She paused. “Do… do you want to go?”

Rex’s mind faltered.

Did she not want me to go? She’s been distant the last week, pulling away. I don’t want to intrude if she needs the space. But… when she looks like that… Maker…

“I should probably stay in and go over the notes. And then make sure we’re prepped for the meet tomorrow.” The words were out of his mouth like a reflex, and he found himself second-guessing them immediately. Her expression was unreadable.

“Alright then. Might grab dinner while I’m out too.”

“Right. Bring me something back?” he asked.

She smiled gently. “Of course.” They stared at each other for another beat, Senna rocking nervously back and forth on her heels. It was as if she wanted to say something else, but was unable to find a starting point. Finally, she seemed to give up trying, reaching over and snatching her comm from where it sat on the desk. Quickly, she pulled her jacket on and slipping the comm into her pocket. “I shouldn’t be out long. Probably won’t be too much fun.” Her smile was almost apologetic.

“Yeah. Sure,” he fumbled.

Before any more awkward silence could hang between them, she was out the door, leaving Rex alone as he replayed the moment again and again in his mind.

What the kriff was that?

—

Senna walked quickly through the crowds on the street, keeping her head down as if she could outrun the awkward encounter with Rex by putting more distance between them.

What the kriff was that?

She had thought about asking him to come with her. Tortured herself over it, in fact. Ultimately, she came to the conclusion that was a violation of the invisible and inconsistent boundary she’d set for herself.

Still… maybe it would have been nice for me to ask.

Dammit.

The evening air was cool, but a warm breeze blew some loose tendrils of hair against her cheeks, and she could smell food vendors nearby frying every type of meat and cheese under the sun. The tinkle of laughter and the notes of music carried on the cool night air, and as she got closer to the square, she felt some of her tension melt away as she sank into the festival atmosphere. Children raced past, brushing her skirt as they sprinted carelessly by, laughing and screaming with dust swirling in their wake. Senna smiled to herself as she disappeared into the crowd, enjoying the feeling of being around people, yet alone. She made her way through the throng, the music growing louder as she wove by group after group of people laughing and giggling. Suddenly, everything opened up around her as she reached the square, and she inhaled sharply as she took it in.

The entire area had been completely transformed from what she’d stumbled upon on her first day out. Small lights were strung within and between the trees, twinkling joyously in the night and softly illuminating the various vendor stalls and the large space where people were dancing. The leaves whispered in the breeze, harmonizing with the laughter and shouts of the onlookers that stood around the edge of the dance floor. A live band played a quick-tempoed tune as the dancers whirled, the colorful fabrics of their clothes waving in wide arcs as they spun, hair and tendrils whipping around like grass in the wind. The smell of assorted fried food and warm drinks was stronger now, carried on the wind along with the sounds, and Senna felt her stomach grumble quietly. She let her shoulder lean against a pillar that was wrapped in streamers and greenery as she took the scene in. She’d never really had the opportunity to see festivals like this while she was a Jedi, and moments of joy like this one warmed her heart after so much time spent in a war.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” a familiar voice said softly next to her, and she jumped, whirling to glare at the man next to her. Familiar brown eyes twinkled beneath the brim of a hat that was covering his blonde hair as he leaned closer to her.

Rex.

“Did you follow me?” she whispered with an edge of annoyance.

Too close.

“No. Well, yes. But I kind of wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said sheepishly, ducking his head. “And I figured… well, we are supposed to be on our honeymoon.”

Senna studied him for another moment.

“I suppose that’s true,” she conceded. She felt him step closer, hesitantly wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Is this alright?” he murmured against her ear.

“Yes,” she breathed, trying to keep her heart from racing as she felt his fingers rest against her hip. Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips as she fumbled to change the subject and ignore the heat racing to her cheeks. “You ever see anything like this?”

“We weren’t exactly around a lot of festivals on our campaigns.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” They stood in silence for a few more minutes as the song came to a close and the dancers all applauded along with the crowd. The band struck up a new song, and many of the onlookers took to the dance floor, swaying in time with the music. The beat tugged at Senna, and after a few seconds, she found herself tapping her foot. Rex glanced down at where her boot was keeping tempo, smiling to himself before his eyes caught hers. She couldn’t help but grin back at him.

Maybe he’s right. We are supposed to be out together. What could it hurt?

Senna leaned over and said quietly, “You uh…ever learn how to dance, Captain?”

He turned to look at her, noting her cocked eyebrow and taking it as a challenge. “I may have picked up a few dance steps on Coruscant when I was there on leave. Don’t know that I’m any good at any of them though.”

“Well, why don’t we find out then?” she giggled, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the dancers as she tossed her inhibitions to the wind.

He hesitated, pulling back on her hand. She whirled back around to face him, her eyes sparkling in the lantern light. A sudden giddiness came over her, and for once, she wasn’t going to resist it.

We deserve this much, don’t we?

“Come on, Lon. You owe me a honeymoon.” He still was scanning the crowd nervously, so she stepped closer, whispering in his ear, “We deserve to have some fun.”

Rex chuckled quietly. “I suppose we do.”

The air was warmer as she led him towards the dance area, and she stripped out of her jacket, tossing it on a nearby bench. The breeze tugged at her hair, dragging some of the loose strands across her bare shoulders, and she inhaled deeply.

Have some fun.

She turned back to Rex. His gaze was gentle yet piercing, and she felt herself grow warmer. He followed her lead, tossing his jacket on the same bench before interlacing his fingers with hers as she led him through the dancers, weaving along until they found a spot to stake their claim. Turning to face him, Senna let her left arm drift over his shoulder. “You know the Coruscant Whirl?” she asked.

Rex smirked. “Can a Toydarian fly?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, not always super well, but-“ He interrupted her by pulling her close and whipping her around in a circle, and a loud cackle burst out of her as he twirled her. They separated in time with the tempo, their fingertips grazing as they slid by one another until he stepped forward and firmly gripped her hand, spinning her back into him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this at ease, this happy. She was out of breath from laughing, she was sweaty from the exertion, and she felt as if an ember in her chest was being blown upon every time she caught Rex’s eye, every time his hands found their place on her waist. She wasn’t certain she’d ever seen him this happy either.

She never wanted it to end.

Aren’t we owed this much? After all of it?

Rex’s grin made her heart flutter as he stepped closer to her, wrapping his fingers around her waist, lifting her easily and spinning her. She whooped in surprise at first before tipping her head back and giggling.

“Didn’t expect that one, huh?” he teased in her ear as he spun her around.

“I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised,” she said, her arms drifting to his shoulders as he replaced her on the ground. They were both laughing and panting as they danced, Senna almost daring Rex to keep pace, and him meeting the challenge at every turn. Whipping her around one more time, he pulled her back in and dipped her low just as the song ended, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck as her hair finally fell from its loose bun and spilled over his arm. Senna tipped her head back and laughed. Gently, Rex pulled her back up, her hair sticking to her face and neck as she tried to regain her breath. “Very well done, sir,” she said approvingly.

“I do what I can,” he replied, a grin cutting across his face from ear to ear.

Maker, he’s handsome.

The barriers were crumbling, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. At least, not for tonight.

We should be allowed to be happy. After everything we’ve been through.

Just playing our parts. Valla and Lon Cardell. Honeymooning together.

The band had moved on to a much slower song, and the couples around them had started to move together, holding each other close. Rex turned to look at Senna, and she could see the hesitation, the question clear in his gaze. She shrugged, stepping closer and placing his hand on her waist.

“It is supposed to be our honeymoon,” she reminded him.

He smiled but said nothing, pulling her closer.

Senna slid her left arm back up over his shoulder and allowed the fingers of her right hand to intertwine with his as she let her face rest against his chest. She could hear his heart beating and smell the sweat on him as they swayed in time with the music. The warmth of his hand on the small of her back was a grounding presence, holding her close, and for the first time since before the war, the entire galaxy seemed to fall away. She felt Rex rest his cheek against the top of her head, and she pressed more into him.

Just pretend. Just for a little while.

As they swayed, Rex pulled their clasped hands to his chest, running his thumb over the back of her hand. He turned to whisper into her ear, “Almost makes you feel normal, huh?”

Something stirred within her, twisting her stomach. She smiled sadly up at him. “You forget, this was never going to be my normal,” she whispered back.

“And… what about now?” he asked.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. She froze, and she felt him tense as she pulled back to look at him. His eyes were searching hers, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction. The problem was she wasn’t sure what her reaction was. The ground suddenly felt unsteady under her feet as her brain rushed to interpret what Rex meant, what he could possibly be implying. Her heart was singing at her to hope, but her brain was in an all-out assault to quash that.

You love him.

You can’t.

But what if he…

The song came to an end, and an announcement about the night’s scheduling was played over the sound system. Senna blinked as the speaker blared, derailing her frantic train of thought.

Just small talk. Just pretend. He’d never… no. You can’t let yourself think that.

You’ll only get hurt. Or you’ll hurt him.

Senna smiled back up at him. “We should get some food,” she said as she tucked her hair back into a bun, bending over to grab her jacket striding off towards a food stand. She could feel Rex’s eyes following her for a few seconds before he apparently decided to let it go, falling into step behind her. Her fingers flexed nervously, her eyes darting among the vendors until they settled on a stall selling roasted meat on sticks.

Does… does he?

She shook her head, quickly paying the vendor for two sticks of meat and a bag of dried fruit to share. Her stomach growled, and she bit into the meat, barely tasting it as her mind raced.

You can’t.

“Hey, are you alright?” Rex asked from right next to her.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I… here,” she said, extending him the other stick. He took it, but his eyes never left her. She ate quickly, discarding the wooden stick and tearing open the fruit bag. The sugar and some other spice tingled on her tongue. Rex was eating more slowly, his eyes seemingly never leaving her.

“Are you sure? Because you seem… distant.”

She tried not to squirm under his gaze.

Haven’t I been all week?

Senna turned to face him. Her heart lurched at the way he was looking at her.

He just wants to understand. And maybe you owe him that much.

“Rex, I-”

Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion on the east end of the festival. Shouts and screams cut through the night air, and suddenly, the sound of modulated voices carried over the crowd. Rex and Senna’s eyes met, alarm permeating both of their gazes as they understood what was happening.

Imperials.

Rex stood on his tiptoes to see above the crowd, and when his eyes settled on the far end where the noise was coming from, his mouth pulled into a thin, tight line, confirming what Senna feared. He leaned close, speaking directly into her ear. “They’ve got a small army, and it seems they’re kettling the crowd. I don’t have my chain code with me. Do you?”

Senna’s hands flew to her pockets, already knowing she hadn’t brought her identification as her fingers futilely felt for the chain code disk.

Kriff. How could I have been so careless?

Rex didn’t need her to confirm his suspicions as he met her eyes. “Guess their dinner’s over. Time to go,” he muttered. His arm slipped protectively around her as he began pressing them back away from the main avenue. Quickly, Senna pulled the hood of her jacket up and tried to shield her face with it. Rex tipped the brim of his hat lower, turning up the collar of his jacket as well. They started moving away from the impending line of stormtroopers at as normal of a pace as possible. An announcement boomed over a loudspeaker somewhere.

“This is an unauthorized gathering that is in direct violation of curfew. Disperse immediately or you will be arrested.” There were shouts of protest from various onlookers, but most people were moving away.

“We hold this festival every year. Why would they do this?” Senna heard one woman ask.

“Because they can,” another grumbled in response.

Senna’s mind was racing, her heart rate spiking with fear.

He’s here because of me. I did this. It’s my fault. I put us in danger.

Rex took Senna’s hand and they wove back through the crowd away from the approaching squadron. Slipping into an alleyway, he led her away from the main street. They could hear more and more loudspeakers and the modulated voices of the stormtroopers demanding people move, followed up with a few indignant shouts.

“This way,” Rex whispered. “It should dump us right in front of the inn.”

My fault. My fault. My fault.

They stepped quickly through the darkness, but no matter how much space they put between themselves and the festival, they still could hear the comm chatter of stormtroopers, too close for comfort. Senna was completely disoriented, clinging to Rex’s hand as he worked his way through the labyrinth of alleys and backstreets. Suddenly, he turned one corner, and then immediately jumped backwards, slamming Senna against the wall. She took in his expression, his eyes flicking back and forth, calculating his next move before his brown irises finally found hers in the dark.

“There’s a squad at the end of the alley coming this way,” he whispered. “Come on.”

Rex doubled back, and despite her long legs, Senna found herself jogging to keep up with his pace. He tried another route, but was met with yet another squad working their way towards them.

“Kriff,” he muttered under his breath. Senna could see the tension in his shoulders as he thought, working over the maps she’d watched him memorize in his head. After a few seconds, he turned the opposite direction of the stormtroopers, heading back the way they’d come before ducking into a sidestreet. Senna followed quickly, keeping her head down as she tried to take in her surroundings.

The sidestreet was largely empty, peppered with rundown storefronts and buzzing neon signs. A stray tooka watched them with mild interest, scratching at an ear with a clawed foot. There was a mild stench of standing water and garbage that permeated the entire street, and Senna fought the urge to wrinkle her nose. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, and she felt her chest begin to clench with nerves.

We can’t get caught. That was the deal. No getting captured. No matter what.

As if he could sense her fear, Rex reached back for her hand, which she gratefully slipped into his. “This connects with a fenced-off courtyard that we should be able to scale and cut through,” he murmured. “Think you can handle that?”

“Are you seriously asking if I can climb a fence, Rex?” she joked, doing a poor job of hiding the desperation in her voice.

He smirked, but before he could retort, they heard the click of boot heels and froze. Rex grabbed her arm, pulling her into the shadows. A few seconds later, a squadron of stormtroopers rounded the corner, making their way down the alley and scanning for any stragglers. They stopped a few passerby, and their demands echoed down the street.

“HAVE YOUR CHAIN CODES OUT FOR INSPECTION.”

Rex’s head was on a swivel, looking up and down the connecting alleys. His grip on her hand was firm, and it felt like the only thing keeping Senna from screaming in frustration. She turned and looked down the street, inhaling sharply as she spotted two officers with the squad. One was a younger woman, laughing at something the other had said, but the gait and posture of her counterpart was unmistakable.

Kriff.

“It’s Fisk,” Senna breathed. “Rex, he’s here.”

Her mind raced with thoughts of what would happen if Fisk saw them, and her breath came out in a shaky exhale.

I’ll be arrested as a spy. There’s no way they won’t figure out Rex is a clone. I don’t even know what would happen to him. Would they just kill him? Or lock him away? Or worse?

“Of course he is,” Rex muttered. He squeezed her hand. “This way.”

Rex led her down the closest stairwell, pulling her inside the door of a club named The Tawny Tooka. Senna’s breath felt caught in her chest as he pressed her up against the wall just inside the door, listening to the outside foot traffic. Her heart was racing, but at the moment, she couldn’t determine if it was due to the danger or how close Rex was standing to her, his hands pressed to her hips as he tried to see through the smudged window in the door.

“Paying customers only,” came a gravelly voice, making Senna jump in the quiet. Turning, she spotted a female Pa’lowick leaning out of a curtained window, watching the two of them. She was wearing a wig that sat crookedly on her elongated head, and her lips were painted a neon shade of purple that matched the glitter smeared on her eyelids.

“We just need to get our bearings. Got a little lost,” Rex said, and the Pa’lowick snorted.

“I’m sure the Imps out there can help you find your way just fine, handsome. So either pay up, or get out.”

Rex glared at her, but Senna stepped past him. “What’s the fee?”

“Twenty credits each.”

Senna counted out forty credits as she glanced past the Pa’lowick. She could make out a sliver of the club through the curtain behind the Pa’lowick, and from what she could see inside, it became very clear that she and Rex had stumbled into a sex club.

“I’m surprised the Imps let you keep this place running,” she commented casually, trying to distract from the way her hands were trembling as she replaced the rest of her credit chips in her pocket.

Get inside and hide. Disappear.

The Pa’lowick shrugged. “Normally, you’ll find a few of their officers back there, but they’ve got some big shindig tonight. As long as their top brass continues to patronize this establishment, the rest of ‘em will look the other way.” The attendant scooped Senna’s credits off the counter. “Can take your coats and hat. There’s toys and other fun supplies for sale along the east wall. Private booths on the south wall. Seems like this one prefers to be a bit more…discrete.” She winked at Rex, and his mouth twisted into what Senna guessed was supposed to be a smile. His discomfort was obvious, and she wasn’t certain she was doing much better at hiding hers.

“Thanks,” Senna mumbled, handing off her jacket before grabbing Rex by the wrist and leading him through the doorway that led into the club. He barely had time to toss his own jacket and hat at the Pa’lowick, who was rolling her eyes at the two of them as they disappeared.

Senna had been to several of these types of establishments after the war had ended, both as a customer looking for someone to take her mind off of things and as an asset looking to gather intel for Gerrerra. Despite her familiarity with this type of place, something about Rex’s presence made her cheeks flush with heat as she led him through the sea of bodies towards the south wall. Every step that buried them deeper into the crowd put her more at ease, and she felt some of the tightness in her shoulders abate as she and Rex put distance between themselves and the front entrance.

The attendant was right. Privacy will be the way to go. Especially if the Imps decide to come looking down here.

The room was stifling with the smell of perfume and sweat. Laughter and shouts echoed over a thrumming bass, and Senna’s head swam from the heat that seemed borderline oppressive. Bodies were pressed together in every nook and cranny of the club, parties of every species and gender coupling on couches or working up to it at tables with drinks in hand, leaned close to be heard over the music. Some more adventurous clientele had taken to the stage, exhibiting their proclivities while others seemed to just prefer taking in the show. When she glanced over her shoulder, Senna found Rex staring hard at her, and she couldn’t help but grin impishly at him.

“What, you can’t bend like that?” she teased, jerking her head toward a pair of Twi’leks that were practically contorted on stage with one another. She hoped the joke would keep him from hearing how hard her heart was pounding in her chest.

Rex’s eyes flicked over to the adventurous couple, and he managed a tight smile as he leaned down to reply. His breath was hot against her cheek. “Not without a good amount of stretching.”

She giggled, some of the tension leaving her body as his hands found their way to her hips. She leaned back into him, interlacing her fingers with his as her eyes scanned the crowd. Standing on her tiptoes, she was able to spot the booths in the back, several of them occupied while others had their curtains hanging open invitingly.

“Think we should find somewhere more private like the attendant suggested?” she asked, leaning back to speak to Rex. Her lips grazed the shell of his ear, and she could have sworn she felt him shudder.

“I think that’s best. Lead the way, love.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

Love.

She shook her head, desperately trying to clear the haze that was inundating her mind.

Ever the professional. Still playing his part.

Despite that thought, heat licked up her spine as she strode forward, keeping one hand linked with his as she wove through the crowd. Her chest felt tight, and an undeniable wetness was forming between her legs. She made a beeline for the first booth that was obviously open, and Rex followed her inside.

The two of them pressed into the small booth, and Rex pulled the curtain closed behind them, plunging them into darkness. With that darkness and the sense of isolation came relief, and Senna found herself releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

We’re safe. For now.

The dark space was barely large enough for two people to stand in with a small, L-shaped seat pushed into the corner that was clearly meant to facilitate one very specific thing. Senna’s head was spinning in the close space, caught between the rush of relief and the tension of having Rex so close. The air felt thick as Rex turned in the dark, leaning down to whisper to her. She struggled to focus on the words rather than how his breath felt against the shell of her ear and the smell of his skin. Some of his stubble scraped her cheek as he spoke, the low husky rumble of his voice making her knees tremble.

“We can lay low here for a bit until the troopers clear out on the street. They’ll stay just long enough to be an inconvenience and leave when the crowd has dispersed. I don’t think Fisk saw us.”

Senna’s hand rested on his forearm, nodding in agreement. “D-do we stay in here until then?” She knew what she hoped for, but she needed him to confirm it. All of her inhibitions were melting away faster than her brain could counteract them. The adrenaline was wearing off, quickly being replaced by a burning need that was enveloping her more with every breath.

Just an act. It has to be enough.

But what if it’s not?

Rex chuckled, and the sound made Senna’s heart flutter as his hand found a place on her hip. “I’m afraid I don’t have a better idea. But it’ll be f-“

The curtain was abruptly pulled open, and Senna blinked at the large Togruta man standing before them. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he had his arm draped around the shoulder of a Twi’lek, who had his hand halfway down the Togruta’s pants. Both of their eyes widened in surprise before the Togruta glared at Rex.

“Occupied,” Rex growled.

“Well at least use it then so the rest of us can have a turn,” the Togruta rumbled.

“The next one’s open, sweetheart,” the Twi’lek giggled, the muscles of his arms flexing, and the Togruta moaned. “Let’s leave them to their play.”

“Fine.” The Togruta managed to shoot Rex one more withering look before he closed the curtain, and Senna heard a thud followed by a loud titter from the connecting wall a few moments later.

“I hope that doesn’t keep happening,” Rex muttered, yanking the curtain closed again. “Don’t want to have to keep fending them off.”

Senna wet her lips, an idea forming in her mind that under normal circumstances, she’d have immediately rejected.

But these were not normal circumstances.

“It probably will keep happening.” She inhaled deeply as her addled brain reached what she considered to be the only possible conclusion. “Sit down on the couch, Rex.” Her voice was breathier than she’d meant for it to be, and he turned to look at her. She wasn’t certain if she was imagining it, but she could have sworn he looked hopeful, almost eager.

“What?” he asked.

She pushed at his shoulders, guiding him backwards. “They’re going to keep coming in, so we’d better look like we’re doing something, or else they’ll get an employee to kick us out. And then we’ll be out in the open and really will be conspicuous.”

Rex fell heavily back onto the seat. “That makes sense,” he agreed slowly. She bent down to bunch her skirt in her hands, hiking the blue fabric up around her thighs. His gaze felt molten as it raked over each newly exposed inch of skin.

“I do that sometimes,” she joked as she climbed onto his lap and straddling him. Her skirt pooled around her hips, exposing her thighs as her knees sunk into the cushions on either side of him, and she could see Rex’s eyes trail along the exposed flesh, his hands hovering over her. She leaned forward, pressing her chest against his and nuzzling against his cheek.

It’s just an act. What we need to sell it.

Rex finally appeared to decide to rest his hands on her hips, digging his fingers into the wadded-up fabric of her skirt. “If anyone comes in, just follow my lead,” she whispered against his ear, and she felt him shiver. This time, she was sure of it, certain that he was reacting that way because of her. Heat bloomed between her legs.

Just an act.

“And what does that entail?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“We’re going to give them a show,” she laughed. “Make them think this is definitely in use.”

His grip on her hips tightened, and Senna became increasingly aware that her core was pressed against his crotch, and that he was absolutely reacting to having her so close. But before she could give it any additional thought, two voices just outside of the booth’s curtain grabbed her attention, and the curtain rattled as though it was being tugged. Senna rolled her hips, grinding against Rex as the curtain opened.

She couldn’t stop the moan that tore from her throat, her fingers digging into the back of Rex’s neck as his grip on her hips tightened. She ground herself against him again, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers. She could feel the length as she ground her cunt against it, and she panted against his neck. Rex leaned into her, making a low sound in his throat that sent electricity shooting through her veins. His hands were gripping her firmly, guiding the motion of her hips as the curtain swung open.

“Oh, sorry!” It flipped shut quickly, and Senna paused, panting against Rex’s neck.

“Yeah… like that,” she whispered with a chuckle.

“Seems we sold it,” Rex rasped. There was a little strain in his voice, and she could feel how tightly he was still holding her. One of his hands moved to trail along her spine, brushing the bare skin between her shoulder blades and drawing a shiver from her. She dug her teeth into her lip to keep herself from gasping.

“Is… is this alright?” he asked after a few moments.

She nuzzled against his throat, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Just an act.

He swallowed hard. “I just… I don’t want… I know that Fisk made you uncomfortable when he touched you like this. And I don’t want to do that.”

“You’re not Fisk, Rex. It’s different when you touch me.”

She could feel a throbbing between her legs, and her head swam as she fought the urge to grind against Rex again. His grip loosened on her skirt.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” he asked, so quietly she almost didn’t catch it.

Senna turned to face him, her nose grazing his in the dim light. His eyes seemed darker, and his breath was warm against her lips as he watched her, searching her gaze. Her brain screamed at her to stop, to push away from him, to not let herself get pulled under.

But for once, she didn’t listen.

“Yes.”

She didn’t know she’d said it out loud at first, but she felt Rex’s breath stutter against her lips. His brows were furrowed as he searched her eyes, almost as if he wanted to be sure he’d heard her correctly.

Slowly, Rex reached up, pushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. His fingers grazed her cheek, tracing along her jaw, and Senna leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and savoring the warmth of his palm. Rex’s eyes flicked down to her mouth, and his thumb gently traced along her lower lip. The pressure was light, and Senna kissed the pad of his thumb. His eyes locked with hers.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

Rex traced the lines of her throat until his warm fingers grazed along her collar bone, finally reaching her bare shoulders. His fingertips touched the strap of her dress, toying with the thin strand of material. He hesitated, his eyes finding hers again, and Senna shrugged her shoulder down, letting the strap slip off in invitation. Rex’s eyes locked on her bare shoulder, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He looked hungry.

And in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be consumed by him.

Senna felt as if she was floating, and before she could consider it further, she reached for his hand. Rex allowed her to take it, and she kissed along his knuckles, placing one against his palm before she guided his hand under her skirt, resting it on her bare thigh. The two of them watched each other as she took his other hand, kissing it as well before she let out a shaky exhale, pulling Rex’s hand to her chest. The hand on her thigh tightened, and she placed her palm over the top of the one that was resting on her chest, adjusting her weight so that her core was pressed against his cock. Every muscle in Rex’s body was tensed, but as she stroked her thumb over the back of his hand, his fingers trailed along the neckline of the dress before his palm dropped down to cup her breast, squeezing it gently.

Senna’s head rolled back, and she gasped, grinding against him. He groaned in response.

The curtain rattled again.

The final barricade between them crumbled as they stared into each other’s eyes.

Rex’s hand slipped from her breast, sliding around the back of her neck to pull her into a heated kiss. They’d kissed before of course, but this one was different, urgent, hungry, all tongues and teeth clashing together with an urgency that they’d both repressed for months. The taste of Rex pulled Senna under, and she was more than happy to drown in him. His tongue traced her lower lip, requesting access and her hands slipped around the back of his head as she granted it eagerly, running her tongue along his, desperate to give him whatever he wanted. Her hips rolled again, and Rex reciprocated, gasping into her mouth. Both of his hands gripped her bare thighs under her skirt, pulling her against him with every roll of their hips, and it didn’t take the two of them long to find a rhythm. Her nails scratched lightly across the back of his neck as she began to grind against him more insistently. Her undergarments were quickly dampening, but she couldn’t stop.

And she didn’t want to.

Rex seemed as lost as she was in the moment, grunting every time she pressed against him. She whined against his mouth.

The curtain was still open, but neither of them seemed to care.

“Touch me,” she gasped.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Please.”

Rex slipped his hand into her hair, gently tangling his fingers in it. His grip was firm, but so gentle compared to how Fisk had held her head still before.

She wanted more.

Rex’s lips worked their way along her jawline until he reached her throat. She felt his mouth press against the tendons there, sucking a mark before he moved down to her collar bone. His tongue traced her clavicle until he reached the scar left there by the shattered tree branch, and suddenly his kisses were more tender as he focused on the healed mark.

Senna closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as he lavished the mark that haunted her with attention, ensuring she’d never look at it the same in the mirror.

“More?” he whispered.

“More. Please.”

She pressed her core harder against him, and there was no question that this had gone beyond an act for the benefit of those around them.

Senna was chasing her pleasure against Rex’s hardening cock.

And he was helping her.

The hand on her thigh reached further under her skirt, sliding around to grip her ass, guiding her along his length. She felt his fingertips slip under the edge of her panties as his fingers dug into the curve of her ass.

The curtain closed again.

They didn’t stop.

Rex’s grip on her hair tightened, and she gasped before his lips met hers again, his voice a deep rasp.

“Valla.”

The use of her false name spurred her on for some reason.

It has to be enough.

“Don’t stop. Please,” she begged.

Every barrier Senna had thrown up crumbled to dust as she smelled Rex’s skin, tasting his sweat as her tongue traced along the muscles of his throat. Her nose grazed his jaw, and she could feel a day of accumulated scruff scrape against her skin. She had wanted him for weeks, but this was different.

She needed this. Needed him.

It was easy to slip into this role, to justify that she was playing the part of an eager wife on her honeymoon with her husband, but she knew that wasn’t what this was. It was messy, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. Rex was intoxicating, and she wasn’t about to further deprive herself of him.

Don’t we deserve this? her mind whispered to her.

“More,” she begged.

Rex’s fingers dug into her flesh hard enough that she was certain he was going to leave bruises, and the thought made her clench around nothing as her panties became a sopping mess.

Let him mark me. Let him make me his.

She lost herself in him, panting against his mouth as he pulled her forehead against his.

“We…we sh-should…” Rex cut himself off with a moan as she nipped at his jawline.

Senna felt everything in her body tightening as her orgasm built at breakneck speed. She whined against Rex’s lips, and his hand slipped between her legs.

“Are you close?” he gasped.

All she could manage was a nod. She could feel his hesitation, his hand resting against the inside of her thigh.

“P-please. Touch me.”

“Yeah?” he understood what she was asking for. Of course he did. Rex knew her.

“Please. Please. Please…” She felt him nudge her panties to the side with his fingers before he slipped one thick digit along her soaked cunt, tracing her lips and gently rubbing circles around her clit. Senna let out a loud moan.

“Right there. Please. Right there. Don’t stop.”

She’d watched his hands often, how his calloused and scarred fingers moved deftly when he was completing a task. They were strong yet gentle, and while they’d almost been her demise, she’d found comfort in them that outweighed everything. She’d thought about how they felt cradling her face, how they felt when he held her at night, how warm they were when they were wrapped around hers. And she’d quietly mewled at night at the thought of them touching her in more intimate places. Her fantasy was overcome by reality as Rex slipped two fingers inside of her, working his thumb at her clit as she ground down on him.

The sensation was better than she’d ever been able to imagine.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” he rasped, his hand quickly growing wet with her arousal as he plunged his fingers in and out of her.

Senna whined as she frantically rode Rex’s hand. He slipped a third finger into her, finally pressing deep enough to find the spongy place within her, and she gasped.

“Lon. Fuck. Right there. Gods above, right there.”

“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this,” he whispered.

Her eyes met his, her lips parted as sweat slicked her skin. His gaze was piercing as he watched her with dark eyes.

“Cum for me,” he demanded, nodding in encouragement. “Let me have it.”

And she did.

He pulled her lips to his, swallowing her screams as she came hard, clenching around his fingers. Wave after wave coursed through her, leaving her shuddering in his arms as she came down from her high, the thrumming bass of the music outside of the curtain finally replacing the rushing of blood in her ears.

Senna flopped against Rex, panting and listening to the hammering of his heart in his chest. She could feel his cock, still hard as durasteel in his trousers, pressed against her. He’d removed his hand from between her legs, and she could see his fingers glistening with her release in the dim light. Rex was examining them as though they were coated in liquid gold, and after a moment, he slipped his fingers into his own mouth, groaning at the taste. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him lick her release from his fingers as though it were the finest wine in the galaxy.

After a moment, he leaned down, kissing her. She could taste herself on his tongue. He offered her his fingers, and she finished cleaning them off, her own tang sharp against her taste buds. Rex watched her with interest, his eyes following the way her tongue traced his knuckles before she sucked the tips of his fingers.

“Atta girl,” he praised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His chest was still heaving, and Senna watched another trickle of sweat dribble across his collar before dotting the fabric of his shirt with moisture.

The heat grew again in her belly at his praise, words he’d said to her many times that somehow were different now. Sitting up, she reached between her legs, undoing his pants.

It’s not enough.

“What are you doing?” he rasped.

Just a husband and wife on their honeymoon. Just an act.

It was flimsy and outlandish, but it was the best reasoning she could come up with in her addled brain at the moment. She had kept everyone at arm’s length for the last year, never letting anyone get too close. Not even the others she’d slept with had felt this close, this all-encompassing, and even as she let go, she was trying to keep Rex distant in her mind.

That’s all this is. A job. A release. We both needed it. We’re doing each other a favor. Lon and Valla. Fucking each other as married couples do.

She pulled her hand away, meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

Rex watched her for a moment before he shifted to undo his pants the rest of the way, lifting his hips slightly to slide them down just enough. She could feel the warmth of his skin where his bare hips now pressed against the inside of her thighs. And then she felt the hot, blunt head of his cock run through her slick folds. His lips parted slightly, and he released a sharp exhale at the feel of her. His eyes never left hers as he reached between her legs again, pumping himself, his knuckles grazing her clit with every stroke. He coated himself with her release before notching himself at her entrance.

Fuck. He’s huge.

They panted as they watched one another for a moment, not daring to move.

There was still time to stop, to put all their clothes back on and never go further.

It’s not enough.

Senna crossed the line for both of them, lowering herself down onto Rex’s cock on shaky legs and spearing herself on his length. Her head rolled back and she moaned as his girth split her open. He was so thick, and as the head of his cock pushed into her, she felt her walls stretch to accommodate him. Patience was never something she prided herself in, and it took everything she had to ease herself downwards. She was definitely going to be sore, but worries of tomorrow were completely banished from her mind. Right now, the entire rest of the galaxy had melted away, all except for Rex. Her hair had come loose from her bun again, hanging around his face as she leaned over him, enclosing the two of them even further. She could see he was wound just as tightly as she was, his brows furrowed as he stared at where he was disappearing inside of her, a centimeter at a time. She gave a few rolls of her hips until she was seated fully in his lap, clenching around him in the dimly lit booth. Rex’s fingers were digging into her hips again, but his eyes were locked on hers, chest heaving as he kept himself in check.

Senna sat up, grinding herself against him. Her palms pressed against the wall behind his head, and her mouth fell open. She panted as she rolled her hips again, searching for the place inside her that would send her hurtling over the edge.

Rex hissed between clenched teeth, and she leaned further forward, allowing the top of her dress to slip downwards. He reached up, pulling it down to expose her breasts to him. The cerulean fabric pooled around Senna’s waist as she shrugged out of the straps, and Rex’s eyes took her in with a reverence she’d never seen from him.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

Senna rolled her hips again, slowly at first until she was building a steady rhythm, fucking herself on Rex’s cock. He was silent aside from the occasional grunt and his labored breathing. It was everything she’d imagined at night with her fingers buried in her cunt, all of it and more. Her mind was screaming that this was a one-time thing, all an act to keep the mission intact, but Senna wasn’t sure how she’d ever be satisfied again, not with how he was looking at her. The air between them had felt charged for weeks, and every stroke of his cock inside of her rippled through her like lightning, finally striking where she needed it most.

But she needed more. More of him. All of him. Anything less wouldn’t be enough.

She gripped the back of the couch to give herself leverage, bringing her breasts closer to his face. He glanced up at her, and she nodded, her eyes silently pleading.

Touch me.

His palm cupped one of her breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze. She arched further into his touch.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”

She kissed him again, her tongue slipping along his lower lip, and he groaned into her mouth. His fingers wrapped around her nipple, tugging lightly and she gasped.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” she whined.

He did it again, and her back arched in response. Rex growled, low and deep and throaty, and heat rushed between Senna’s legs as the sound rumbled in her chest. Leaning forward, Rex took a nipple between his lips, suckling at it. Senna cradled the back of his head as he took the tender flesh between his teeth, gripping her other breast in his hand and rolling her nipple between his fingers.

“J-just like that. Fuck. Don’t stop.”

Senna fucked him harder than she’d ever fucked anyone in her life. Sweat rolled down her neck, trickling between her breasts as she ground him against the place inside her that drove her wild. Rex chased the trails of perspiration between her breasts with his tongue, alternating between tasting her skin and marking her. Frantically, she adjusted, and the new angle sent Rex’s head tilting back against the edge of the couch, banging against the wall with a dull thud.

His hand left her breast, and she whined, but his fingers slipped back into her hair, pulling her forehead down to touch his again as he began bucking up to meet her thrusts.

“Yes yes yes yes,” she chanted, beginning to bounce on his cock, and the grip on her hip tightened. Rex redoubled his efforts, guiding her up and down along his length as she desperately tried to ground herself in his eyes.

“Lon. More. Please. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

The curtain opened and closed a few times, but neither of them seemed to care or notice. At one point, it remained slightly open, and a sliver of light fell across Rex’s face, illuminating the sheen of sweat that had broken out across his skin.

He’s beautiful.

Senna felt drunk on him. She ground her clit against the patch of hair at the base of his cock before lifting herself off of him just enough to leave the head inside of her. She teased him for a moment, enjoying the feel of his member breaching her and then sliding back out before she dropped herself fully back down on him with a wet smacking sound. He whined in response, spurring her on, and she began riding him harder, willing to do anything to hear him make a sound like that again.

We’re just playing a part. We’re a married couple. That’s what this is. We’re doing our jobs. This is our job. Right?

“Right there. Fuck. Right there, Valla.”

Senna maintained the angle, driving him against her inner walls as though her life depended on it. She was gasping against his ear as he held her close.

“Rex, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Fill me up. Fuck me. Rex please.”

She didn’t even notice she’d switched to his actual name until he gripped her tighter, pulling her close.

“Say it again,” he snarled. “Say my name like that.”

“Lon. Please.”

He adjusted her so that their foreheads were pressed together again, his eyes burning into hers. “No. Say my real name, Senna.”

Her heart fluttered and her cunt clenched at the way her name fell from her lips. She never wanted him to call her anything else again.

“Senna.”

Fuck.

She ground against him frantically, leaning forward to whine in his ear. “Don’t stop, Rex. Please don’t stop. I’m so close. I want you to fill me.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you until I coat your insides, Senna?”

“Yes. Rex. Please. Fuck. I need it. I need you.”

He kissed her, and his hips stuttered. She felt him spurt and twitch within her, and that sent her hurtling over the edge, her head tipped backwards in a silent scream as he grunted, emptying himself into her. Her vision was obscured as it whited out, and for a moment, she wondered if she was about to wake up from a dream again and find herself alone in her bed. The feeling of a hand on her cheek, thumb stroking over the skin, brought her back down to Lothal’s surface, and when she opened her eyes, she found Rex’s brown ones staring up at her.

“Welcome back,” he whispered.

Senna had no response, only managing a dopey grin.

She laid her head on his shoulder as her bliss faded to a buzzing in her ears. She thought she’d want to get up, be able to leave easily, but all she wanted was to feel the heat of his body against hers for a while longer. His cock slipped from her, and she adjusted to let him tuck himself away. His heart was pounding in his chest, and she laid still, listening to it slow until he finally looked down, brushing some hair out of her eyes.

You love him.

“We should get back.”

Everything around Senna shattered.

What did you expect? We played the part. Did what we needed to do. Fooled everyone.

She stood hurriedly, pulling the dress back over her shoulders and finding some wipes to clean herself tucked into the booth. Rex stood, watching her for a moment. Senna tried to keep her face neutral as she offered him the wipes to clean himself off, turning her back as he accepted them. She felt suddenly self-conscious, as if this man hadn’t been buried in her cunt five minutes ago.

Just an act.

“Senna-”

“Let’s go,” she whispered, turning to face him. She gave him a tight smile, trying desperately to keep her emotions at bay. He watched her for another half a beat before pushing the curtain aside for her. She stepped past him, her head still feeling fuzzy.

What just happened?

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @meekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @rennyboo9 @djarrex @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @ladykagewaki @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#karrde writes #in command #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #fanfiction #fan fic #captain rex #captain rex x ofc #captain rex x oc #captain rex x original female character #OC Senna Aven #slow burn #romance #friends to lovers #idiots in love #post order 66

[abnerkrill]

i saw you reblogged a formula one au marvel fic based on tony stark having an f1 team in the 2nd iron man movie and now i am going to share my autistic motorsport knowledge with you (im so sorry) which is that the model of formula one car used in that film is, very oddly, 70s-80s era car. this era of f1 (and motorsport in general) was the deadliest for drivers, pit crew and spectators with cars being so dangerous to drive some drivers prefered not wearing seatbelts because being thrown from the car during a crash was preferable to being in the car and risking blunt force trauma and/or a fire.

the cars looking this way implies that, in the marvel universe, formula one never saw the slow buildup and then mass adoption in 1994-96 safety measures that massively increased survival rates of drivers. implying things like the beginning of the safety union with jackie stewart, the inclusion of sid watkins (a renowned brain surgeon) as trackside medic and advisor or the event of the infamous drivers strike lead by niki lauda and most notably, the live broadcast of the fatal crash of 4 time world champion ayrton senna in 1994 either never occured, or had no impact on the safety of the sport or public perception.

it also implies aerodynamics and general innovation stopped completely around the 80s and the cars never got any faster. (which also brings into question what the state of the tracks they are racing on would be like. are they racing the old monaco layout here? because of that are drivers ending up in the water during a race like ascari and hawkins?)

its more likely whoever was in charge of what the cars looked like in the films thought the cars of that era (late 2000s-early 2010s) looked bad (which is true) and wanted to go for the classic look of the cars for the film. but the implications of that decision for this very big media franchise's lore fascinate me.

this is INCREDIBLE and it's changing my entire perspective on iron man 2 (which admittedly is not so invested to start with.) zainab @firstelevens are you seeing this.

#andromedasummer

[totowlff]

extra — breaking point

➝ the hardest part of a fight is realizing you're wrong. again.

➝ word count: 3,2k

➝ warnings: none

APRIL, 2017

Toto clenched his jaw, his heart pounding in his chest. He had just sat down in his usual seat on the plane, facing Elisabeth. After what she said to him, though, he didn’t have the courage to look at her. Her voice was dense with rage as she let her true feelings be known.

Toto was fully aware that he had wronged her. He’d found out about Mercedes’ intention to enter the 300 SL into the Mille Miglia in January, when Ola had paid a visit to the factory in Brackley. Toto was enthralled with the idea and offered to drive it immediately. The car was a work of art on wheels and his thoughts became consumed with the idea of driving it in such a storied race. However, as soon as he and Ola returned to Toto’s office, Toto remembered a very important caveat.

He needed to talk to Elisabeth.

He and Elisabeth had a long-standing agreement regarding Toto being invited or volunteering to participate in a race of any kind, he would talk to her first before agreeing to participate. It was a compromise they came to after a long conversation after the first race of the season the previous year, in Australia. 

Both of them were exhausted from jet lag after returning to the UK. Toto brewed himself a cup of chamomile tea and sat down to watch The Godfather — his favorite movie — to try to relax. He checked the time on his phone and realized that he hadn’t seen Elisabeth emerge from her office for a few hours after she told him that she wanted to catch up on some work. He brewed a second cup of tea, hoping he could entice her to put her work down and come relax with him for a while.

As he carried both teacups upstairs, Toto heard a strange sound coming from Elisabeth’s office. He opened the door in a hurry, causing some of the tea to slosh out of the mugs. He saw Elisabeth, her face buried in her hands, sobbing.

He set both mugs down and knelt in front of her. He caught a glance of what was on her computer monitor, finally understanding why she was crying. On the screen was video of his crash on the Nordschleife in 2009. The video was paused at the moment he stood up and got out of the car. 

He didn’t actually remember unfastening his harness, unplugging his radio headset, taking off his gloves, stretching his back, and leaping over the tyre barrier on the side of the road. He’d sustained a heavy concussion, so his memories of that day were spotty, but the sole surviving in-car camera managed to record everything. The circuit’s medic found him passed out behind the barrier, still wearing his helmet and HANS device.

— Why are you watching this, Liesl? — he murmured. He took Elisabeth’s face in his hands and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

— I kept thinking about what happened to Fernando over the weekend — Elisabeth answered — I kept looking at the video of his crash, thinking how much worse it could have been, how he could have died there, right in front of us.

Indeed, a nasty crash between Fernando Alonso and Esteban Gutierrez had happened that weekend. It was ugly, but both had emerged unscathed, and walked away from the incident uninjured. Both were fine. It still didn’t explain why she was watching the video from his own accident.

— They're fine, Liesl, you saw them in the paddock. They both got away without a scratch.

— I started thinking about how dangerous this sport is, Toto. Then I started watching videos of other accidents, seeing what happened with Senna, with Ratzenberger, and then I got to the video of my father’s accident, and then yours — she managed to say, before her voice broke and more tears ran down her face.

He pulled her into a tight hug. Toto was not proud of what had happened on the Nordschleife, quite the opposite. Looking back, he found himself having to agree with what Niki had said to him after he'd told him of his intention to try to do a lap in less than seven minutes in a GT car. Niki had said it was idiotic.

However, his fascination with the track prevented him from seeing the dangers of the endeavor. He was determined to do the ultimate Nordschleife lap, to put his name in the record books and Nurburgring history. However, watching the only record that Mike, the videographer that set up the in-car cameras had recovered of his attempt, Toto was sure what he’d done was mad.

It ended up costing him not only a few thousand Euros to replace the damaged video equipment, but his own health. He had to sleep sitting up for a while afterward, because laying down made him too dizzy. He sustained nerve damage that meant that he couldn’t taste or smell anything for six months. It took him almost a year to recover completely.

— Elisabeth, that was just one time. It was a stupid idea, and I’ll never try something like that again.

— But you like to drive, you like to race. What if something happens somewhere else? I... I can't bear to lose you...

Hearing those words broke his heart.

— You will never lose me, Elisabeth. Not even to my dumbest ideas.

After calming her down, Toto led her into the living room. They snuggled on the sofa and sipped tea, considering his adventures in racing a settled matter, having mutually agreed to have a discussion before he would participate in anything. That was the deal he'd so recklessly ignored by offering to drive in the Mille Miglia, and the catalyst for their current discussion. 

Neither of them spoke to each other for the remainder of the flight, nor did they exchange so much as a glance. Toto gave her tentative glances, but the look on her face — the pursed lips, the furrowed brow — and the way she sighed deeply, made it clear that she was in no mood to talk. The silence between them persisted for the drive between the Oxford airport and their house. Elisabeth drove, and Toto didn’t dare argue about it. After they pulled into their driveway, Toto walked around to the trunk to remove their luggage. It was all fairly bulky; they’d spent two weeks away from home, and neither of them were particularly light travelers.

While he removed his suitcase from the car with ease, Elisabeth seemed to be having some difficulty. It didn't surprise Toto, as she always made a point of taking practically the entire house with her for doubleheaders.

— Need help? — he muttered, as she struggled to lift one of her suitcases over the lip of the trunk. 

— No — Elisabeth replied dryly, before giving one last tug and heaving the luggage to the floor. Still frowning, she carried her suitcase and her purse into the house, her heeled footsteps echoing through the garage. With a sigh, Toto grabbed the handle of his own luggage and carried it inside.

After dropping the suitcases in their bedroom, he passed Elisabeth again, who was still struggling to pull her luggage upstairs. Toto thought about offering to help again or even picking up the bag and taking it to their room, but something told him to not engage. It would only make things worse between them.

Toto walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, taking a few sips. Toto's mind began to wander, remembering the fights he had with Stephanie that culminated in the end of their marriage. They were almost all about his constant absence, about how he was missing important moments in the children's lives and about how much he was missed at home.

In a way, it was like watching the same movie again, even though Toto was much more present in Elisabeth's life than he had been in Stephanie's, especially in the later years of their marriage. In his reflection, he spotted a constant factor in both relationships.

He was terrible at communication.

Toto sighed and took another sip of water before heading upstairs.

In the bedroom, he found Elisabeth dropping her bags in the closet, her head down. The sight made his chest tighten.

— Are you going to shower now? — he asked, attempting to break the ice.

— You can if you want — she replied quietly — I'm going to take a shower in the other bathroom.

Toto blinked.

— Why?

Elisabeth looked up at him, her blue eyes icy cold.

— As far as I remember, Torger, we don't owe each other satisfaction — she said. Her voice was biting as she took a pair of panties from her dresser drawer and left the room, leaving Toto frozen to his spot. He thought about going after her, admitting he was wrong and apologizing for what he had said, even though he still didn’t feel like he was completely in the wrong. 

However, there was something inside him that prevented him from leaving the room. Without thought, he dropped the water bottle on his bedside table and headed into the bathroom for a shower, got dressed, and collapsed onto his cold, empty mattress.

It felt wrong for Elisabeth to be sleeping in another room, like a violation of some law of nature. Toto couldn't bear the thought of sleeping away from her, even when he was traveling alone. The knowledge that she was so close, but so distant, made him remember the days when he thought that what he felt for Elisabeth was just an earnest friendship. It was torture seeing her, hearing her voice, catching the heady scent of the sweet perfume she wore, and not being able to do anything about it. He fell asleep with a dull ache in his chest.

The next morning, Toto woke up and stretched his hand toward Elisabeth's side of the bed, seeking her warmth in the sheets. He didn’t find it. Opening his eyes slowly, his fingers closed with a fistful of fabric between them, feeling a tightness in his throat.

He was hit with a surge of determination as he jumped to his feet. Things couldn’t stay this way.

After brushing his teeth and changing into sweatpants and a T-shirt, Toto went down to the kitchen, thinking about what he could make Elisabeth for breakfast. However, he was surprised to find her already awake, dressed, and choosing a coffee capsule to put in the coffee machine.

“I guess we’re skipping breakfast”, he thought, as he approached.

— Good morning, Liesl — Toto said, trying to disguise the nerves in his voice. She looked over her shoulder, before going back to analyzing the capsules. She didn’t say a word — Did you sleep well?

She made a sound that sounded affirmative.

— Are you going to the factory this morning?

— Yes — Elisabeth said, as she selected a capsule and closed the cabinet.

— I thought you'd go this afternoon with me — he murmured, leaning against the kitchen island.

— I changed my mind — she replied, as she fetched a mug to put her coffee in. Toto raised his eyebrows.

— You never go to the factory in the morning after the races.

Elisabeth didn't say anything as she found the mug she was looking for. Her silence was enough to make Toto angry. He furrowed his brow as he felt annoyance prickle across the back of his scalp. 

— You could be a little more mature and talk to me, Elisabeth — he snapped.

— And you could take your own advice, Torger — she murmured, as she abruptly closed the lid of the espresso machine, mashing the “Start” button. After making a few noises, coffee began to drip into the mug.

— Elisabeth — Toto sighed.

— As far as I know, the entire conundrum we’re in started because you decided to not talk to me.

— How many times do I have to tell you that I forgot, and it was wrong of me? — he asked.

Elisabeth turned and advanced toward him, trying to get in his face. He was leaning against the kitchen island with his arms crossed.

— You forgot to tell your partner that you’re going to Italy to race an old car? Do you really think I'm going to believe that?

— It's not an old car, Elisabeth, it's a Mercedes-Benz 300SL.

— From 1952. That’s a pretty old car, Torger

— Stop calling me Torger — he growled.

— That’s your name, isn’t it?

— But I don't like the way you're pronouncing it.

Elisabeth gave a wry laugh.

— Now is there a way to pronounce your name, Torger? — she asked, putting emphasis on each syllable — Should I put more emphasis on the O or the E?

— You should stop acting like a child and talk to me seriously, Elisabeth — he spat, emphasizing each syllable of her name. He couldn’t help but take her bait, it seemed.

— And how can you be serious when you ask me to believe that you forgot to tell me that you're going to be away for who knows how long taking part in a race?

— That’s exactly what happened, Elisabeth, and I’m being serious! — Toto exclaimed, gesturing with his hands.

Elisabeth shook her head and turned back to the counter, where the last few drops of her coffee were falling into the mug. She picked it up and sipped the hot liquid.

— Liesl — he said softly, almost pleading.

— Do whatever you want — Elisabeth murmured, without turning around again to look at him— We don't owe each other satisfaction anyway.

Toto felt a rush of feelings as he stared at her back. He felt guilty, he felt frustrated, he also felt hurt. He was trying, he wanted to patch things up with Elisabeth, he wanted to be a better partner with Elisabeth than he had been with Stephanie. He didn't want to fail again, least of all with her.

However, Toto's will alone wasn't enough, especially when Elisabeth wouldn't even look him in the face. She had to give in too, at least a little. But she didn’t — not later that day, not even for the rest of the week. “I just had to fall in love with the most headstrong woman in Austria”, he thought, staring at her empty pillow for the fifth night in a row.

Then, the door opened.

The sight of Elisabeth entering the room was like seeing the sun after weeks of rain. Her expression remained stony and serious, her eyes focused on the floor. The warmth of hope rekindled itself in Toto's chest. Perhaps she had reconsidered the silence, the anger, the disappointment. Maybe she was willing to at least talk to him. Maybe his stomach would stop dropping every time he asked her a question and was met with silence.

Elisabeth went into the bathroom and closed the door. After a few minutes, came back out into the bedroom and sat on her side of the mattress, looking at her phone for a few minutes before setting it on her bedside table. Then, she laid down and sighed, but her back was still turned to him. 

— Liesl?

She did not answer.

— Liesl — Toto repeated, his voice in a sad tone — Please…

He saw her shoulders move, as if she had taken a long breath.

— I know I messed up. I know I should have talked to you. I know I said harsh things. But — he hesitated for a few seconds, searching for the right thing to say — I want to make it up to you. Let me fix things, Liesl. Please.

Elisabeth remained silent and motionless. The pain in his chest grew, as did the tightness in his throat. Toto wanted to cry with anger at himself, for having hurt the love of his life, the woman he trusted the most and with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

— Good night — he whispered — I love you.

His monologue seemed to have softened Elisabeth’s heart, at least a little. The following day, she began to answer questions that were not related to work. However, there was still very little physical interaction. Usually they would kiss or hug frequently and at random, but they hadn’t touched each other since their fight started.

Until that night.

As they were going to bed, as soon as Toto turned the lights off, he heard something sliding across the sheet, and the warmth of a hand against his back. He rolled over and his lips found hers, soft and warm in the darkness, longing and desire guiding their blind exploration.

— Let me turn on the light...

— No — she whispered — Don't… Please…

He blinked, confused, before Elisabeth went back to kissing him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his T-shirt, pulling it up to remove it. Then she shed her nightgown, then his pajama bottoms. She climbed on top of Toto and he allowed her to take control, feeling her lips run over his neck gently as her hips moved against his cock, like she was teasing him.

It didn't take long for her labored breathing to turn into low, almost strangled moans, as the darkness of the room was filled with the sounds of her wetness and bodies bumping into each other. It was like having Elisabeth back again.

Almost, at least, because the reality was completely different.

After they climaxed, Toto felt her body collapse onto his. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and remained silent, trying to absorb what had just happened, his body begging for more after days without attention. The idea of coming inside Elisabeth again made him stiffen again inside her. He felt a primitive desire to mark her, to make it clear that he was hers and no one else's, to show the world that the only woman who would ever have him, body and soul, was Elisabeth. 

However, Toto felt her body stiffen suddenly. Then, she got off him and went back to lie next to him on the bed, her breathing a little strange.

— Elisabeth?

— Let me sleep, Torger — she murmured, her voice sounding a little choked.

That was the last time they exchanged any kind of caress until that Tuesday in May.

With his bags packed and waiting for him in the entrance hall, Toto went upstairs to do the most difficult part of his trip to Italy, which was to say goodbye to Elisabeth. He hesitated in front of her office door for a few seconds before knocking. After waiting a moment, he opened it silently and walked into the room. 

Elisabeth's office wasn't large, but it was elegantly decorated. The table where her notebook was was decorated with a potted plant, a lamp and a framed picture of the two of them with Benedict and Rosi. Beside it was a bookcase filled with books, arranged by color.

— Is there a problem, Toto? — she asked, looking over her shoulder.

— No, Elisabeth. I just came to say goodbye.

The room was deadly silent as she turned to face him.

— Well, see you later — Elisabeth said, forcing a smile.

It was clearly not what Toto had expected to hear.

— Is that all you have to tell me?

— Have a nice trip, I hope you have fun with Aldo and your old car in Italy — she added in a monotone voice.

Toto sighed, swallowing his defeat. However, instead of leaving the office, Toto approached her in slow steps. Then, he leaned over and landed a kiss on her cheek.

— See you on Monday — he muttered, turning away and leaving the office and his heart behind.

#toto wolff #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula one fic #formula one fanfic #formula one x oc #wlffog #scwlff

[the-little-moment]

The Dress

@freesia-writes super cute Crosshair fic inspired me to finally post this Echo/Senna one shot I wrote last year. It was going to be part of "Carcass" but I didn't think it fit the vibe. And the trope is so, well, tropey. 😂 Anyway, enjoy!

Echo has never had an opinion on flowers, never even really noticed them, until now.

Words: 822

Warnings: None

“Cid will die for this,” Senna gritted out, looking down at the fat bundle of plum-colored fabric in her hands. 

“It can’t be that bad,” Echo encouraged from beyond the fresher door. “And it’s just for one night.” 

The doctor glared at her reflection in the dirty mirror. Changing into a gown in the tiny fresher was going to be a nightmare that she was dreading already. “Would you like to wear it then?”

“Somehow I don’t think that’d have the desired effect.” 

“I don’t know, I think you’d be very distracting!” 

Echo was chuckling when the fresher door hissed open, revealing a deeply disgruntled Senna. 

“Do I get to see it?” He stepped back to let her out into the small hall of the Marauder. 

“Not until it’s absolutely unavoidable.”

“Something to look forward to then.”

Senna rounded on the pale clone, sticking out a finger in accusation. “Don’t you dare enjoy this. This is just what I needed to really round out my month, public humiliation.” 

Echo raised his hand and scomp in a placating gesture, but she could see he was biting back a grin. 

“Sen, you look…really nice.”

“No,” the doctor sighed. “But thank you anyway.”

“You really don’t think so?”

“Let’s just say that mine and Cid’s tastes differ.”

Echo snorted. “Can’t imagine that’s a bad thing.” 

It was the evening of the party in the sparkling city of Canto Bight and Echo was waiting with Senna while the others finished scoping out the lavish hotel that the doctor would be infiltrating. From the outside, it would be a gathering like any other, but Cid had told them that information was changing hands that night, information that was very valuable to the Trandoshan. If they completed this job, they'd be eating well. And Senna was the only one of them who could really blend in. 

Echo looked at her softly for a moment, taking in the smooth, brown skin of her bare arms. She’d look perfect in anything. “Well, what would you wear if you could choose?”

Senna frowned as she adjusted an earring. “I wouldn’t be going if it was my choice.”

“That’s a given. I meant more like, to something you actually wanted to attend.”

That made the doctor smile wistfully. She turned her back and lifted the fall of her hair so Echo could see the 99 on her shoulder blade. “Can you do the little hook at the top? Those things are literally impossible.”

Echo held his breath as his fingers brushed against her spine. He had to pull his glove off in order to get the infinitesimally tiny hook through the even more stupidly small loop, grunting in satisfaction when it caught. Add that to the list of things that would be easier with two hands. 

“When I was in school on Corrie, we had this dance every year. I only went once, because I was too busy the other years, but my roommate begged me. Anyway, my dress for that was probably my favorite thing I’ve ever worn.” She turned back to face him.

“What was it?” 

“It was—well actually it was about the same color as your Five-Oh-First armor, and it came down to the floor. There was a pattern of gold, four-point stars on the skirt. High collar, but sleeveless and no back.”

Echo swallowed. “Right. That sounds…”

“It was more my style than all this fluff,” the doctor sighed as she tried again to smooth down the gown’s exuberant skirt. 

“Well, I still say you look nice. Kinda like a flower.”

Senna smiled up at him. “A big, fluffy, purple flower named Sen.”

Echo was supposed to be keeping an eye on their target, but he was having trouble keeping his attention from wandering to a certain fluffy flower who was currently doing what he thought was an impressive job of playing the wealthy socialite. No one there would be able to guess that, only hours earlier, Senna had been changing in a tiny fresher on a beat up military shuttle.

He’d never seen her like this before, sparkling, with all of those genteel mannerisms she must have used in her life before Kamino. She’d always been elegant, with her Bar’lethi accent and gentle poise, but this was something else. Something she must not have needed for a long time now. 

The thought of her in the blue dress drifted across his mind. He would have paid good credits to see her in 501st blue, although it was difficult to imagine her looking more beautiful than she did right now. He barely managed not to jump when Hunter’s dry voice came through his comm. 

“Enjoying the view, Corporal?”

Echo was glad Hunter couldn’t see him grimace. “Just keeping an eye on…the situation.”

“Uh huh. Tech’s got eyes on Senna. You focus on our special friend.”

A sigh welled up inside Echo, but he wasn’t going to give Hunter the satisfaction of hearing it. It was going to be a long night.

#star wars the bad batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars oc #dr divehdi #tbb echo #tbb hunter #the little moment writes

[xiv-wolfram]

Hello - Comic Script

A Realm Reborn - lvl 15

Wolfram performs his envoy duties, kind of. He tries. Let's be proud of him for trying. 👏

Yes, I was listening to Adele.

Wolfram Saga Comics

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story. Numbers indicate frame number.

Part 1

Wolfram in the Lotus Stand with Kan-E-Senna. Kan-E smiles “You have done the people of Eorzea a fine service this day, and I would not put you to further trouble. I shall see that my reply reaches the Admiral anon.”

Zoomed out shot

Kan-E smiles “I thank you for coming. May the Twelve see you safe to Ul'dah and beyond.” Wolf smiles “Thank you Seedseer. It was nice to see you again.” Thought ‘If only I could find comfort in faith.’

He leaves, walking towards the residential area. Thought ‘Surely this isn't so urgent I can't take a nap.’

Wolf enters his apartment. Looking around smiling “Been a while…”

Zoomed out shot of apartment as Wolf walks to the bed

Wolf laying on bed on his back, smiling “Rhun wasn't kidding about cleaning. This is nice.”

A) Wolf closes his eyes, smiling. B) Wolf opens his eyes, straight face.

A spectral version of his 27 year old self (in sleep clothes) is huddled on the other side of the bed, quietly crying. Whispers “I miss him so much… I ruined everything.”

A) Real Wolf lays on his side, closing his eyes, amused, mutters “Gods was I pathetic.” B) Wolf opens his eyes, annoyed at not being able to sleep. He looks over at -

Spectral Wolf (in conjury robes) standing in the middle of the room yelling at a wand “WORK GODSDAMN YOU! MAKE WIND OR WATER. DO SOMETHING!”

The wand sparks with dark magic, Spectral Wolf looks horrified “Not that! Never again.”

A) Close up ghostly hands grasping the wand B) snaps the wand

Spectral Wolf leaning against wall with head in hand, sobbing “Yes, I know it's not the wand. It's me. You don't have to point it out, arsehole.” “Why can't you just leave me alone?! I had to lie to him because of you.” “Yes I did!”

Real Wolf, sad, sighs “The hellhound sure was loud back then…before I learned to quiet it.”

A) Wolf closes eyes, frowning sadly B) Wolf opens eyes frustrated

Spectral Wolf (half undressed) passed out drunk at the foot of the bed, sitting on floor with head on mattress, liquor bottle rolling out of his hand

Real Wolf walking to the door, exhausted frown “Now I remember why I avoid Gridania. Guess I'd better go face my fears.” “As if fighting a voidsent and passing out in front of Merlwyb wasn't bad enough.”

Part 2

Raubahn holding coffee cup at the table in his apartment (Same apartment from 13 years ago. Almost nothing has changed), using linkshell, smiling “Hopefully these movements mean naught, yet you are wise to stay vigilant. Is there aught else to report?”

Rau leaning back, laughing “Oh gods! No I do not want to meet some farmer in Gridania. I do not care how kind he was.”

Rau leans forward resting is chin on his hand, grinning in amusement “Pray continue to focus on your duties, not matchmaking.” “Aye, I'll speak with you later, Pipin.”

Rau smiling, looking over towards the kitchen but camera focused on him. Thought ‘Ah, the lad means well. He doesn't understand the demands my position places on me.’

Spectral 27 year old Wolfram cooking in the kitchen. Spectral 32 year old Rau standing behind him kissing his cheek.

Real Rau smiles. Thought ‘Odd that I'd think about him right now…’

Rau walking away from the residential area, wearing his armor. Frowning. Thought ‘I wonder how he's doing… if he's alive.’

Walking further, down an alley in Pearl Lane, Rau glances at the corner. Spectral Wolf and Rau kissing.

Raubahn smiles sadly as he passes, turning toward the market. Thought ‘He's got to be alive. If what he went through didn't kill him, nothing would… not even a bloody calamity.’

Part 3

Wolfram standing in the airship area, tucking his flask into his pocket. Nervous smile. Thought ‘Well, I'm back…”

Wolf exiting the elevator, nervous, takes a deep breath. Thought ‘Surely he wouldn't still be upset... right?’ ‘He's so accomplished. A living legend. He couldn't possibly be angry at his ex from over a decade ago…right?’

Wolf walking out into the street. Thought ‘Anyroad, I'm an envoy of the Admiral. Even if he were, he wouldn't have me arrested… right?’

A) Close up of face but he's walking on the main road. Worried look. Thought ‘What if…what if he doesn't even remember me?’ B) Looks hurt and a bit scared.

Wolf walking into the Hall of Flames. An unusually tall blond Viera in a lieutenant uniform is talking to the trader at the desk.

Bran turns as Wolf walks up to him. Wolf addresses him with a big fake smile “You look important. Can you get a message to your General? It's from Merlwyb.”

A) Bran beams brightly “I am! Very important! Well, a lieutenant. I'm important to myself and that's what matters. I’d be happy to deliver it to him for you.” B) Wolf smiles awkwardly ”Uh, thanks.” Thought ‘This guy sure has pep... I have to get out of here.’

Raubahn walks in as Wolf disappears in a concealing cloud of aether. Rau surprised.

A) Close up shot. Rau looks left. B) Rau looks right.

Rau amused “I must assume we were just robbed?” Bran laughs, walking over to him “No, don't worry. It was just an odd and unnecessarily attractive envoy. They had a message for you from Admiral Bloefhiswyn.”

A) Rau chuckles, taking the message “Ah, so I trust you scared them off with an unexpected advance?” B) Bran shrugs “I'd like to take the credit, yet they seemed a bit on edge already. Hopefully that doesn't indicate a gloomy message.”

Rau straight face “Aye, our city is still recovering. I trust if it were urgent she would have called my linkshell.” Bran smiles “Oh, surely nothing like that. Everything will work out. Always does.” Rau “I pray you're correct. I'll open it with Eline. Stop by my office later, Lieutenant Thorvald.”

Wolfram Saga Comics

#oc wolfram #ffxiv #ffxiv oc #ffxiv wol #hyur highlander #wolbahn #hyur #raubahn aldynn #raubahn #WolframBlogs

[fcb-mv33]

Max needs to win in a inferior car? Mate what’s this bloke smoking! 😂 his first year in F1 was in a Torro Rosso and he out qualified both Redbull drivers, his first year at Redbull he won yes both Mercedes crashed out but he kept Kimi behind him, he managed to win in the Redbull car when it was 3rd in the grid yes it was third but you get my point.

Max has out performed his cars, people praise Seb and Lewis for their performances with the cars but forget that when Lewis joined McLaren they was one of the best (then they had Spygate) and Seb won his first championship in his first year at Redbull.

I honestly do not get people no matter who they are if you don’t like max that’s fine you do you boo but keeping slating him and diminishing his accomplishments, maybe they need to realise, Senna, Schumacher, Hamilton, Vettel all had cars that was better then the rest.

Niki Lauda called Max the talent of the century.

https://www.autoweek.com/racing/formula-1/a1846031/niki-lauda-calls-f1-driver-max-verstappen-talent-century/#

“Lauda was furious in Barcelona after the collision between Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg opened the door for Red Bull's new recruit Max Verstappen to record an historic win. "I have no answer except to take my cap off," the F1 legend, who still wears a red cap to cover his scars some 40 years after his 1976 Nurburgring crash, is quoted by the German news agency DPA. "What we are seeing is a talent of the century," Lauda added, referring to Verstappen. For once, Lauda and his compatriot Dr. Marko, the architect of Red Bull's often controversial young driver program completely agree.”

And this is what Niki had said about Lewis in 2008

https://www.crash.net/f1/news/170305/1/hamiltons-driving-will-end-in-someone-getting-killed#:~:text=Niki%20Lauda%20has%20hit%20out,the%202008%20world%20champion's%20defence.

“Former three-time F1 World Champion Niki Lauda has warned the FIA that if nothing is done to curb McLaren-Mercedes star Lewis Hamilton's on-track aggression, 'it will result in someone getting killed'

In the past two races, Hamilton has tangled with no fewer than four of his rivals, sending both Felipe Massa and Pastor Maldonado crashing out-of-contention in Monaco just over a fortnight ago, tipping Mark Webber into a first corner spin in Montreal on Sunday and then - most calamitously of all - colliding with his own team-mate Jenson Button as he aimed for a gap early on in the Canadian Grand Prix that was not really there.”

In that same article Sir Jackie Stewart and Sir Stirling Moss said this

“I think Niki was being a bit hard on Lewis, but Niki is a man who should be listened too," concurred fellow multiple title-winner Sir Jackie Stewart. "To finish first, you must finish and not be running into people all the time. He's having too many collisions with too many drivers, and he can't blame the stewards, because there is a different set at every race.

"I'm a great supporter of Lewis, but I think he's hiding under blinkers at the moment. You can't keep going for gaps that don't exist, and if he's blaming the car and the team, that's just unprofessional. No driver had the perfect car."

"He's going a bit too far in some cases," echoed British racing hero Sir Stirling Moss, who officially announced his retirement from racing at Le Mans last week. "He's a terrific driver, he's got great aggression and he's an exciting driver, which is important because it's a television sport now - but his handling of himself is not that good. His father is no longer his manager, which is a problem. If they could get together, it would be a good thing."

Yes a few legends and a few drivers more of less said the same about Max but Lewis himself and his fans and Mercedes fans can’t say anything about Max and the comments some drivers made about him when Legends said the same thing about Lewis

I’m sorry but all Champions had that aggressiveness that everyone slates max for like I’m sorry what was Michael Schumacher known for? 

Don’t get me wrong lewis is a great driver but I’m sick of people dick riding him and hiding how he was in his early days

Honestly if you want to say that your a Fan of Lewis maybe watch his early seasons before slating on Max, watch Ayrton Senna, Watch Michael Schumacher they are all the same!!!!

I am so sorry for the rant but I needed to be said, some people won’t like what I said but people need to realise you can’t slate Max and forget about what your favourite driver has done!!!!

❤️ Red Anon - I thought I’d make it easier just incase I have a little rant again 😂

I love what you put on here and the way you defend Max, never stop!

I hope you had a great first few days at your new job x

It’s literally so funny because Max has always said that you need a great car to win a championship. A car that doesn’t have a engine that dies every second race which he did yet before 2021 he had 10 wins in a car that most of the time was third fastest and then sometimes 4th fastest and he created those wins. 2020 he was the only driver to put drive the Merc and without the reliability he v much could have finished in front of Bottas in that monster of a car. In 2016 for his first race he held kimi up on old as fuck tires to win and let’s certainly not forget Austria/Germany 2019 when he drove the wheels of that car.

You hit the nail on the head about the aggressiveness. Each champion has had to be ruthless that is what gets them the win. They have to go for the tiniest gap because that is literally what the likes of Max, Schumi and Senna are wired to do. Thye wont ever admit that a gap couldn’t be seen and that is what makes them the greatest. Max doesn’t need to prove anything anymore. He won his championship he won in that shitbox of some years and also stuck by his team. He could have packed it in with Red Bull in 2018/19 when the car wasn’t producing what he wanted but he didn’t. He stayed loyal to the idea and the concept that Christian and Adrian were building and now he’s where he should be.

Also thank you!!!! I will always defend Max because he gets so much shit being himself it’s disgusting. Work actually is going really well, they let me create a media plan which was so cool icl.

#anon you get your own lil tag #anon❤️ #pls rant whenever you need to

[everythingeverywheresblog]

Stars and Migraines - Chapter seven

Chapter seven

Sydney's POV

No. Can you come to my hotel room?

That’s how it started. A supposedly simple question, that lead me here. Outside Daniel Ricciardo’s hotel room. In the middle of the night. Carrying a box of pastries from a twenty-four-hour patisserie Daniel told me about in the few, short texts that followed his invite. I had to look for his pastry shop for twenty minutes, wondering in the hidden Italian alleys like a mad man—hoping not to get killed.

“You’re really creepy right now.”

Daniel’s voice shocks me out of my trance, making me almost drop the orange box. I’ve been so lost in my thoughts and with my head low, staring at my phone’s screen, I didn’t even hear him open the door and literally stand in front of me.

“You have that blank stare going on and you’re just standing there looking but…not looking.” I roll my eyes and he lets me in the room—suite would be most appropriate description. The door I walk in from faces a floor-to-ceiling window with an amazing view of the city’s lights. I stride over to it slowly, taking in the all the beauty.

“Where should I put this?” I ask, my back facing him and my hand shaking the pastry box.

“Just come sit on the couch.”

I frown. My head turns to my left and—indeed, there’s a large, white couch in this hotel room with a very tired-looking, pajama-wearing Daniel sprawled on it. I walk towards it and sit on the very edge across from him, placing the pastries in the middle.

Daniel doesn’t even think about it twice, grabbing it the moment I put it down, placing it on his lap and rummaging it like a man starved.

“Aren’t you on, like, a diet?” He doesn’t answer. He just shrugs and continues eating on what I’ve brought.

There are a few moments of silence before either of us speak up again, giving me the opportunity to snoop around with my eyes. His room is squeaky-clean. Nothing’s touched. Everything is neatly put in its place and it’s as if no one has ever stayed here.

“How’s you dad?”

My head snaps to Daniel.

“What?”

“Your dad. I saw the messages your mom sent you.” He says it so casually, I almost believe he means something completely different.

“You went through my phone? What the hell Daniel?”

His brows shoot up and for the first time since I’ve started working with him… he smiles. “Well, shit. If reading your texts from your unlocked phone would get me on first name basis, I’d done it sooner.”

I might not be able to see myself right now, but I’m pretty sure my face is red with anger, yet Daniel breaks into a fit of giggles.

“Oh come on, Syd. You wouldn’t tell me what happened to you so I had to find out somehow.”

“And—wait, when did you even take my phone?”

“You left it in my driver’s room right before the race begun.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He laughs. It’s so genuine and light, it makes me laugh. And for a moment, we’re laughing together. Then I stop, because he went through my phone.

“No but seriously. How is he?”

I take a deep breath. It’s not easy talking about it. My dad’s always been the strong one, the healthy one. The rock. And now…

“He’s…fine, I guess. He got home alright and now he’s got to be careful and stuff…” Daniel nods, placing the pastries on the table and stretching out his legs in front of him. His stare alls heavy on me and I’m aware that he’s listening to me right now. Really listening.

That makes me nervous.

“Uh, and, yeah…It’s just, a lot, I guess. But I’m good. I’m going to see them all soon so…”

“You’ve got any siblings?”

A smile erupts on my face. “Yes, a younger brother; Ayrton.”

“Like Senna?” The shock in his voice forces a chuckle out of me, and I nod. “Wow, your dad really is a McLaren fan.”

“Yeah…The whole family is, really. Because of dad, mostly, but we’ve all been repping the team since, ever, basically.”

Daniel smiles for a second before his eyes drop to his lap. “Look, I…ughm.” His hand is stuck at the back of his head, scratching the skin. His leg is slightly bouncing up and down and I realize.

Daniel Ricciardo is nervous.

The man who arrived to the paddock riding a horse and wore a bejeweled crop-top for a whole day, is actually nervous.

“I’m really sorry for the way I’ve been treating you.”

He doesn’t look at me, but for some reason I can tell he’s being honest. “It’s fin—”

“No, it definitely is not, but I swear it’s not about you. I—this season’s been…”

“Good, right?”

“Yes, very good.” His eyes snap to mine. My breath gets caught in my throat. “Too good.” He looks so vulnerable, so weak. He stops talking completely. He stays silent but his eyes…

It’s like he wants me to figure it out on my own. He’s expecting me to connect the dots and figure out that,

“You’re scared?” I whisper.

The lights are dimmed low.

There is no sound coming from anywhere in or out of the room.

No open window, no forgotten TV series playing in the background.

It’s just him and I when he closes his eyes and, just, nods.

“Terrified.”

I tuck my legs under me and, instinctively drag my hand to be closer to him.

“Why?”

We’re both whispering. And we keep whispering, afraid to pop the bubble we’re in. The one where he’s not too uptight and rude. The one where I’m not working for him.

“What if I fuck it up, Syd?”

The question shocks my body into an upright position.  “You? Daniel, I’m so sorry, but are you insane? I get it, I do, I swear but—it’s you. You can’t mess it up. You won with a broken car. You won with thee fourth fastest car. You survived at a team with Max, come on. And now you’re—I mean, you’re doing wonders.”

I don’t know where all of that came from and my cheeks are burning with embarrassment at how quickly I jumped to his defense. But his head drops back with a smile so, I think it’s kind of worth it.

“You didn’t swear.” He says cheekily. "You said mess it up not fuck it up, like I did."

“Yes I did.” No, no I didn’t.

“You don’t swear, do you?”

“Of course I do, don’t be silly.”

He laughs. “Silly.”

We stay quiet again. “You were new, and easier to put all of my frustration on. I’m sorry.” He explains.

“It’s okay.”

He lets out a long sigh. His eyes are closed and for a second, I think he’s fallen asleep. “Say fuck.”

A laugh bursts out of me and he joins shortly after.

And we stay up until four, eating the pastries and cursing.

#fanfiction #f1 imagine #my fic #fanfic #daniel ricciardo x oc #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #f1 fanfic

[luchitohamilton]

lewis interview with dazn at the spanish gp '23

transcript below 👇

Hello Lewis. Hello. Hola. Are you ready to win here in Spain? For example, or a podium? I would love to. Yeah, I mean, I’m as ready as I can be. From 0 to 10 how satisfied are you with your car and with yourself? With my car…4. With myself... 10! 7-8. But you can improve, great. Do you feel you can win here? We don’t have the pace to win at the moment. Red Bull is too far ahead of us and also Aston maybe a little bit far ahead of us. Do you see your record of world championships, and Schumacher’s, at risk? No. No? Ok. Not currently. Not currently? No, yeah sure, for sure. He [MV] has to win a lot of championships [to reach you]. Do you see Fernando winning a world championship again? Potentially, yeah. And would the current Lewis Hamilton share team with the current Fernando Alonso? If the stars align and that’s what we have to do, sure. But I don’t think that’ll ever happen. Would you prefer another teammate or it’s ok if it happens? It’s ok if it happens but I don’t think that’s gonna happen. There’s a saying in Formula 1 that every driver’s dream is wearing red at some point in his career? Is your dream as well? Never has been, I wouldn’t say. I was always, I think for me it was, when I was younger, it was Ayrton Senna, so it was the red and the white. So, it was Mclaren. But I think, for sure, every driver sees the red car and thinks “wow it’s such an iconic team”, “what would it like to drive a red car?” But, you know, I have, I’m very very lucky I have a red car at home. A red car but is it a Ferrari? Yeah. I mean, I’m a big fan of Ferrari in general so. Have all the rumors about Ferrari bother you right now? No. I think its normal when you´re in a point of re-signing, potentially re-signing a contract, and you’re in negotiations, these things are [normal]. And I think is positive that there are discussion, these speculations. Would you like to be a team manager when you…? No. No? No. Nothing related with Formula 1 when you stop racing. Mmmm, I would like to be an owner within the sport. It would be cool. Thank you so much.

#lewis hamilton #spanish gp 2023 #spain gp 2023 #f1 #formula 1 #pal archivo #he is so diplomatic lmao #also potentially re signing!?????