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legacygirlingreen · 6 days ago

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Touching Revelations || Captain Rex x OFC Mae (NSFW)

Author's note: Howdie there folks. Continuing on with the snapshots of our favorite Captain, and (hopefully) your favorite doctor on Pabu! As a reminder this is part of a collaboration with @leenathegreengirl as part of her AU series. You can find the full image on both her page HERE or all the way at the bottom. Anyways, thanks for stopping by and if you are new, feel free to check out her page, where you can see more of the AU. - M

Summary: Captain Rex seeks some solitude while he's traveling alone after a long day, as his routines seemingly continue to be undone by feelings growing a bit more undeniable.

Warnings: Male Masturbation, sexual fantasies, kind of pervy (but more in a horrified light than anything), slight illusions to breeding kink, mentions of penetration/strip tease

Minors go away.

Pairings: Captain Rex x OC Mae Killough (her info found HERE)

Word Count: 5,500+

Masterlist || Previous Section || Next Section (Coming Soon)

All clones did it, whether they admitted it or not. Anyone who claimed otherwise was a liar. During the war, privacy was a luxury few could afford, and quick moments of solitude in the fresher became a necessity. Fortunately, Rex had the rare privilege of private officer's quarters, granting him more seclusion than most. Yet, there was something irreplaceable about the feeling of warm water cascading over his shoulders, a rare moment to let go and feel truly at ease with himself.

It wasn’t that he never indulged in the occasional moments of respite during shore leave—he certainly did. Unlike many of his brothers-in-arms, he didn’t actively seek out such opportunities, preferring to let them come to him. Yet, from time to time, he found himself in the company of a charming woman who offered him her appreciation for his service in ways that were impossible to ignore. He wasn’t one to turn down their gracious offers, knowing better than to let a fleeting chance slip through his fingers.

Still, those moments were rare, and truth be told, he had grown accustomed to relying on his own hand for satisfaction. It was simpler, predictable, and free of the entanglements that often accompanied more intimate encounters.

Over time, he’d come to accept solitude as part of his life. The fleeting affections he experienced on shore leave were just that—temporary, like waves crashing on the sand before retreating into the vast, indifferent sea. There was no permanence to them, no promise of anything more than a brief break from the grinding monotony of his duties.

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t seek it out the way others did. Many of his brothers treated shore leave like a hunt, prowling for companionship to fill the void left by endless days on the front lines. But for him, the chase felt hollow. The warmth of another’s touch, though intoxicating in the moment, was quickly replaced by an ache that seemed deeper somehow, more profound.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want more—he did. But the idea of tethering himself to someone felt as unrealistic as anchoring a ship in a storm. His life was unpredictable, driven by duty, and there was little room for the kind of stability that a real connection required.

He became quite familiar with the solitude of his right hand, the fantasies within his own mind, and the fleeting privacy offered by the confines of a fresher.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

The day had dragged on, an unrelenting slog of challenges that felt insurmountable. Frustration weighed heavily on Rex’s shoulders—nothing he’d done had gone according to plan. The intel he’d been counting on had evaporated into thin air, and his contact had been compromised before he could secure anything useful. He’d barely managed to get out unscathed, though the near-miss left him tense and exhausted.

As he leaned over the controls, ensuring the autopilot was engaged, Rex finally allowed himself to step away from the cockpit. The silence of the ship seemed louder than usual, amplifying the gnawing weight of failure pressing on his chest. Yet, it wasn’t just the mission that troubled him. It was the absence of Echo—a presence Rex had grown to rely on more than he cared to admit.

Not that he could blame him. Echo deserved to be with his wife-to-be, building a future Rex couldn’t fathom for himself. And what was Rex left with? The hollow title of a soldier with no army, fueled only by a stubborn resolve to cling to a life that no longer existed? A clone too set in his ways to imagine anything beyond the battlefield? Or maybe just a man too tightly wound to think clearly, running on fumes and purpose that felt increasingly fragile.

Yeah, probably that last one.

One perk of his most recent stay on Pabu was the repair of the hot water generator by Tech, which meant he could finally enjoy an endless stream of warm water after the grueling hours of the day. It was a small luxury that made a big difference, and as Rex reached for the controls of the fresher, his dirty hand fiddled with the temperature setting out of habit.

He stripped off the grimy clothes without a second thought, tossing them into the corner to deal with later. There'd be time for a proper wash when he made it back to base. These days, there wasn't much about the GAR he found himself longing for, but the ease of having droids on hand to handle the laundry was definitely a perk. Not having to worry about washing his fatigues had been a convenience. But as simple as it was, there was something oddly freeing about these everyday tasks—the small acts of self-sufficiency that reminded him he had more control over his life than he once did. Scrubbing clothes, though seemingly trivial, became a symbol of that freedom, a reminder that, for all the structure and orders that once defined his existence, he was now in a place where he could make his own decisions, even about something as mundane as laundry.

The warm cascade of water pouring over him felt like an indulgence, a rare moment of pure relief. It was as if every muscle, every thought, was being soothed by the gentle pressure, leaving behind only calm. Not that Rex was a religious man—he had long since abandoned any belief in an afterlife—but if there were such a thing, he imagined it might feel like this: like a long-awaited exhale, like a weight lifting from his chest, leaving only peace behind.

He wasn’t sure how exactly he ended up like this, his weathered palms instinctively curling around himself. It was almost automatic, like an ingrained reflex that had taken root during the years of war. Back then, he would have easily blamed it on the constant pressure of water rations—the brief, rushed showers squeezed in between missions or moments of solitude snatched in the most unlikely places. He’d learned to survive on the bare minimum, to find peace in the fleeting privacy that he could steal away, even if it was just for a few precious minutes of quiet in the shower.

Now, there were no rations, no hurried schedules. He didn’t have to share the water with anyone, didn’t have to rush or sneak away. Yet still, the habit remained. His hands moved almost as if by instinct, finding their way to his body, wrapping around himself without thought. In truth, there was nothing left to blame except the way his mind and body were constantly on edge, the tension that clung to him after years of battle and loss. Even here, in this moment of solitude, he couldn’t shake the remnants of that adrenaline, the tightness in his chest that made him long for something to hold on to, even if it was just the simple act of gripping his own skin.

It wasn’t about necessity anymore. It was something deeper, something his body had learned to do long ago—an anchor in a world that had constantly been out of his control. Even now, it was the only way he knew how to steady himself when the weight of everything, past and present, threatened to pull him under.

By touching himself.

Rex wasn’t one to seek out encrypted holochannels. He had experienced enough moments in real life to know that sometimes, the old-fashioned way was better. For him, that meant retreating into his own mind, crafting his own fantasies. He’d had his share of encounters during times when he was granted some freedom, fleeting moments with women that blurred together into a single, faceless figure he could call on whenever he needed. It was simple, uncomplicated, and—most importantly—free of guilt. He could indulge without consequence, without the weight of expectations or the complexities of real connections.

The soldier didn’t necessarily need a clear starting point—his mind wandered wherever it chose, moving in its own rhythm. As his hand moved steadily along the length of himself, he found his thoughts drifting, no particular direction guiding him except the ebb and flow of his own desires. In the quiet, he imagined a pair of legs—strong, yet graceful, the kind that held an effortless power.

His mind traced the shape of them, starting with slender calves that led up to firm, muscular thighs, each curve and line reminding him of strength and subtle beauty. There was something magnetic about the way they moved in his imagination—something simple, yet deeply captivating. The way the muscles flexed, the smoothness of the skin, the promise of both strength and softness in one form. It was the sort of thing that, at its core, could be easily overlooked, but in his mind, it became something almost hypnotic.

And as if he was visualizing a real woman standing in front of him, he moved his attention to just slightly above. Eye’s closed as the steam only built around him, Rex couldn’t help but picture one of the most beautiful curves of a woman’s body. The kind of thing he and his brothers argued over the merits of in the solitude of their barracks.

He wasn’t sure why exactly he’d always preferred a woman’s behind and the lovely visual it provided. Perhaps it was rooted in the simple aesthetics. A wish to latch his large hand on and just feel it under his grasp. Or the fact that he could get away with copping a glance more often in that arena than a woman’s chest. Regardless of the reason, he always appreciated a full, round, ass.

Deep within, the man had always been drawn to the idea of painting fair skin with the impression of his own hand, a touch that would linger long after he had gone. There was something profoundly primal about it—the raw, intimate connection of watching himself mark that vulnerable place. In those moments, it was as though the boundary between reality and something greater blurred, bringing heaven into the tangible world, if only for a fleeting instant. A handprint, a silent but powerful reminder, left its trace for later, a testament to his presence, his claim.

It stirred something wild in him, something fierce that he often tried to suppress. Though he was a clone, that didn’t diminish his natural biological instincts. The urge to reproduce—an inherent part of him—hadn’t been erased with his creation. In fact, after the removal of his inhibitor chip, that primal drive, once muffled and distant, had grown louder, more insistent. Now, during moments like these, it wasn’t a faint whisper in the recesses of his mind—it was a guttural, urgent call that resonated in the deepest corners of his consciousness, pulling at him like an unyielding tide.

That’s a nice train of thought…

His hand quickened, grip tightening as he leaned back against the wall, seeking the stability it offered. The steady rhythm didn’t do much for Rex; he craved the shift in pressure and speed to bring him closer to release. This time was no different. He flexed his hand, adjusting his motion to pull himself closer to the edge, all the while letting his mind drift away from the present moment.

At times, his mind seemed to latch onto the more uncommon, often unnoticed details—those subtle aspects that others would likely overlook. With his eyes closed, an image began to form in his mind, and he was taken aback when it settled into a pair of eyes. Innocent. Wide. Trusting, yet strangely familiar, as though they held a story of their own. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the appeal of such a gaze. There was something profoundly captivating about the submission they conveyed, the way they looked up at him with quiet vulnerability, as if they understood their place in the moment, beneath him.

But beyond the submissive nature in their stare, there was an undeniable beauty to those eyes. Not that he considered himself a romantic by any means—he wasn’t one to indulge in such sentiments—but the vibrant blue tugged at something deep inside him. It was a hue he knew all too well, one that had marked his existence, one that had come to define him throughout much of his life. Cobalt blue was his color—his identity in a world of little variation among him and his men. Seeing 501 blue staring back at him was a strange comfort.

A stray curl of hair that fell between them was another detail that caught his attention. It drifted between them like a soft, teasing gesture, framing the stunning eyes in a way that felt almost intimate. He’d always admired long, curly hair on the nat-borns when they were planet-side. There was something almost intoxicating about it—the bounce, the way it seemed to possess its own rhythm, its own life. It wasn’t just the texture that fascinated him; it was the femininity it exuded, the divine softness that contrasted so sharply with the harshness of the world around them. It was delicate, almost ethereal, a thing of beauty that was both natural and profound.

Not only that, but the curl was a dynamic shade of red—a color that always managed to captivate him, no matter the context. It wasn’t the garish, artificial red that so many of the women at the bar seemed to wear. The kind of hue that screamed of chemical concoctions, a clash of tones that burned his eyes and assaulted his senses with the lingering scent of synthetic dye. No, this was different. This was the kind of red that reminded him of something more natural, something raw. A vibrant, fiery hue that seemed to pulse with life—one that Rex had often associated with the women in the contraband magazines he’d come across in his years of service. Magazines hidden under the thin, uncomfortable mattresses in the barracks, carefully tucked away between flimsy sheets of paper, waiting to be discovered during routine inspections.

It was a shade of red that spoke of effortless beauty. It was neither too bold nor too soft, but instead, it held a unique vibrance that couldn’t be ignored. That deep, almost untamed red—a color that appeared in flashes of flame, in the quiet of sunsets, and in the rich, soft strands of hair that had always seemed so impossibly alluring to him. The kind of red that belonged to women in those glossy, forbidden pages—women who exuded a kind of captivating charm with every glance, a beauty that felt untouched by the world around them.

It was a color that told a story without words, one of fiery independence, untamed grace, and an almost dangerous allure. Rex had always found himself drawn to it, unable to resist its pull, as if it carried an unspoken promise of something more—something beyond what the sterile, clinical walls of his life had ever offered. The same shade as…

Then, as though his mind were playing a cruel trick on him, a fantasized voice echoed in his skull, sharp and clear, revealing the one he had been imagining all along. The full image solidified in his mind, and with it, the truth of who he had been fantasizing about all this time became undeniable.

Curvy, long legs, muscles shifting with each movement, water clinging to her pale skin like a second layer. He had seen those limbs before—balanced gracefully atop a surfboard on Pabu. Leading to that perfectly shaped ass, heighted by the delicate curve of a feminine lower back, all clad in a blue bikini upon the sand. Blue eyes had once stared up at him from the hull of his own ship, wide with amazement and wonder, a gaze that seemed to see straight through him as he tried to twirl the petite woman in his arms.

And those bouncy red curls, brushing against his cheeks from the gentle ocean breeze, their vibrant color catching the fading sunlight, glowing with a golden hue that made them look almost alive. The light made them burn brighter, a fiery halo that intensified the pull she had on him.

Then came the voice—the voice he knew all too well, still echoing in his mind, soft and filled with ecstasy. “Rex… yes.” It moaned, and he refused to open his eyes, unwilling to let the fantasy slip away. Teeth pulling plush pink lips behind a flash of white as he let the truth settle in.

Mae. He was fantasizing about Mae.

This wasn’t the usual fleeting fantasy that so often danced through his mind—the fragmented, nameless woman whose face was nothing more than a blur, a fleeting memory of someone he may have seen once in passing. No, this was something different. It was a vivid, intricate mental image of someone he knew well, someone whose presence had become a part of him. This was her. The image wasn’t hazy or incomplete; it was full, detailed, as though his mind had painted her with a clarity that made her feel more real than anything else in his world.

Had he been able to summon the same self-control he had relied on so many times in his life as a soldier—self-control that had kept him alive through countless missions and dangerous encounters—he would have stopped. He would have forced his hand to still, his eyes to open, and he would have put an end to the perverse act before it even began. But something inside him, some deep, unexplained force, kept him anchored in the fantasy. The mental image of her—the woman with whom he had shared such a rich companionship, a bond that ran deeper than anything he’d ever expected—overrode the disciplined restraint he had long prided himself on.

It was as though the very thought of her, the connection they shared, made the rules of gentlemanly behavior feel irrelevant. The boundaries he had once lived by, the ones that kept his emotions and desires in check, dissolved under the weight of this overpowering need. For some reason, Mae made him forget the lines that had always kept him grounded.

It wasn’t that he had ever intended to cross that line, not with her. She wasn’t some fleeting distraction, some unattainable fantasy to be locked away in his mind. She was real—her laughter, her presence, her touch—things he had grown accustomed to in ways that made the idea of imagining her like this feel both intoxicating and dangerous. There was a depth to their companionship that went beyond the physical, a connection built on respect and understanding. He had never allowed himself to imagine her in this way before, not like this.

But now, as the image of her lingered in his thoughts, he couldn't help but indulge in it. She had always been there for him in ways that went far beyond what anyone else could offer. In a world where he had learned to shut down his emotions, to push past the desires that could cloud his judgment, she had quietly unraveled the walls he had so carefully constructed. It wasn’t the passion that drew him now, but the intimacy they shared—the trust, the warmth, the way they could be open with each other in a world that didn’t often allow for it.

Her face, her body, the way she moved—his mind replayed every moment, every shared glance between them. Each small detail now seemed amplified in the haze of his thoughts, as if his own body was betraying him, wanting more, needing more. He could almost feel her—her scent, her warmth, the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips.

But even in the haze of his desire, there was a part of him that still fought against it. He couldn't lose control, not over something like this. He had always been in charge, always kept his emotions at bay. Yet now, it seemed as if his own mind and body were taking him to a place he hadn’t planned to go. The more he fought it, the stronger the pull became, as if the very thought of her held him captive.

It was a twisted sense of vulnerability, a rawness he hadn’t expected to feel. She had never been a fantasy before; she had been his equal, his friend in every sense. Yet now, in this moment, she was something more—something his mind wanted her to be, something he wasn’t sure he could control anymore.

“Rex…” The artificial voice, an uncanny mimicry of hers, called to him, sending a ripple of heat through his veins. He watched as a playful smirk curved on those full lips, a look that seemed both teasing and knowing. At first, the images had been drawn from tangible memories—moments he had lived, moments that felt real. But now, as the vision took on a life of its own, he realized he wasn’t simply recalling what had already passed. No, now he was conjuring things that hadn’t happened. Fantasies, unspoken desires that had long been buried in a part of him he rarely acknowledged.

Delicate hands twisted into a soft blue shirt, dragging it up as more and more pale skin was revealed. A small thatch of neatly manicured curls briefly drew his attention before the swell of round breasts came bouncing before his view. Perky rose colored peaks just begging for a taste. The sight was glorious to behold. Not that he’d neglected to notice the way that her smaller frame amplified the shape or the side of such breasts, but the idea that he’d assumed them to look that way uncovered was something he’d unpack later. Right now he was so close to release simply at the thought of burying his length between those breasts even just for a moment.

Hand clenched so intensely around himself as the steam nearly shook him from the fantasy, Rex clung on the best he could. Moving faster as he felt that telltale sign he was nearly there came in the form of beads of precum leaking over his hand. Body shaking from the exertion of it all, he finally came to one last thought.

His body laying down. Rex could see the contrast of tanned skin on porcelain as his hands tightly gripped the curve of her waist. Mae perched herself above him, strong thighs straddling him. Smirk decorating her lips while she ran her nails up and down the expanse of his chest. The bounce of both breasts and curls as she leaned back, surrendering to the feeling of himself inside her body. “Rex… please.. fill me up-” came the song most delightful to his ears as he did just that.

Well, not in her body, but his cock throbbed desperately as he spilled white ribbons of cum all over his fingers. Eyes finally opening, Rex saw just how sizable the mess was through the steam of the fresher. He couldn’t recall a time there ever had been that much mess.

Reality shattered around him in an instant, crashing through the fragile bubble of his thoughts with brutal force. His mind had unraveled, driven by the image of the only woman he had ever allowed to mean something more than just a passing interest, the one he had held in such a profoundly deep regard. It had been a moment of weakness, one that exposed the rawness inside him he had long worked to suppress. The weight of that realization settled like a stone in his chest, suffocating him. The fantasy, the desire—everything he had indulged in—felt alien now, a betrayal of the very principles he had spent his life upholding.

Disgust curled in his gut, bitter and sharp. How had he let it go this far? How had he let himself become so tangled in a web of longing and fantasies that didn’t belong in the reality he had crafted for himself? The very thought of it sickened him, and he recoiled from the vulnerability he had unwittingly exposed.

Snatching the bar of soap from the small cutout in the wall, he scrubbed his skin with a desperate urgency, as if washing away the grime of the day could somehow erase what he had done. He lathered until his skin burned, raw and red, before finally pausing. Tilting his head back into the steady stream of water, he let it rinse the dirt from his short hair, hoping clarity might come with it. But all he could find was one question echoing through his mind.

Why her?

He had long since convinced himself that she was just a friend—nothing more. He might have believed it, too, if she hadn’t always been there, trailing behind him with that sweet, effortless smile. If she hadn’t given him that ridiculous little offering—a necklace, of all things. His eyes dropped to it now, glinting against his chest, almost mocking him. She had been the first woman to treat him with genuine kindness, not out of flirtation or manipulation, but out of a simple, quiet respect for the man he was.

And yet, he wasn’t blind.

He had done his best to ignore it, to shove down the thoughts that threatened to surface. She was beautiful—undeniably so. That’s why Jesse had teased him that day on the beach, throwing out some crude joke about how the pretty doctor should give him an STD exam.

Wait.

His movements stilled, the water forgotten as his mind latched onto the thought. Shutting off the shower, he hurriedly dried himself, his pulse quickening as a realization settled in. Maybe that was it. Maybe Jesse’s little joke had planted the seed, giving life to a fantasy he hadn’t even realized was forming. Maybe that’s why, when he was alone, it was her hands—small, delicate, yet certain—wrapped around his cock in the dark corners of his mind.

The thought offered him a strange sense of relief. It was just that—just a fantasy. Nothing more. Pulling on a pair of briefs, he moved through the rest of his routine with practiced ease, shutting down any lingering doubts before they had the chance to take hold.It was easier to blame Jesse then confront the idea he might be falling for her.

At best, he could admit that he might have let himself get too consumed by his physical desire for her. Even that acknowledgment felt wrong—uncomfortable and out of place—but after what had happened, he couldn’t deny it. He had lusted after a friend. That was a line he shouldn’t have crossed, one he would need to be mindful of the next time he saw her. For Echo’s wedding no less. A day in which would be filled with romance and-

Rex stopped himself with a disgruntled shake of his head, as if someone were around to hear his loud thoughts. He would be rigid at his brother’s wedding. He could be polite, but he would not engage with her more than he needed to even if it pained him so. Those walls needed to stay high enough that pretty doctors couldn’t climb them.

Stretching out on his bunk, he checked the systems, ensuring no alarms had gone off. The ship hummed softly around him, the vast emptiness of deep space his only company for the next few hours. The solitude would do him some good—a chance to clear his head. Because even with a logical explanation for his feelings, the guilt and confusion still weighed heavily on him.

Just as his body began to relax, his datapad chirped. He sighed, annoyed at the interruption but knowing better than to ignore it. If there was any kind of avoidable danger, he couldn’t afford to let it go unchecked.

Flicking on the screen, he expected the usual—a fuel-level warning, an ETA adjustment, or maybe a quick message from Echo. But when he opened the waiting notification, his breath caught, and the pad nearly slipped from his hands.

It was a photo.

Glasses slid halfway down a delicate nose, tired eyes fighting to hold a smile. Messy hair framed flushed cheeks, evidence of exhaustion from what had clearly been a long day. Beneath it, a message appeared: Late nights are the worst. Hope yours is much better than mine :)

The image hit him like a punch to the gut and a flutter in his chest all at once. She looked utterly worn out, yet still so achingly beautiful. He hadn’t realized how much he had been bracing himself for her to reach out, but now that she had, his emotions tangled even further. She messaged him every night, a habit they’d formed long ago. And when he wasn’t dodging enemy fire or barely able to stand, he always responded.

Here, tucked away in his private bunk with no one else to overhear, he usually ended his days with these lighthearted exchanges. But tonight, with her image staring back at him, the comfort he usually found in her messages had turned into something far more complicated.

For a long moment, Rex simply stared at the screen, unsure what to do. The familiar pang of guilt twisted in his chest, tangling with the warmth her message brought. She had no idea what she was doing to him—how her sweet words and tired smile were unraveling the restraint he had worked so hard to keep in place.

Keep it together, he told himself. Don’t make this more than it is.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tapped out a reply, keeping his tone light and casual.

Long flights are never fun, but I think you win the “rough night” competition. Try to get some rest when you can—don’t overdo it. Captain's Orders.

He hesitated, rereading the message, debating if it sounded too cold. But before he could second-guess himself further, he sent it. Leaning back on the bunk, he stared at the ceiling, willing his mind to quiet.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Rest? What’s that? Pretty sure I’ll be on my feet until the sun comes up. At least I’ve got something to distract me now ;)

The winking face made him clench his jaw, a sudden heat building in his chest. She wasn’t flirting—not intentionally, anyway—but it was the way her words always felt so personal, as though she genuinely wanted his attention. And damn it, she had it. She always did.

He started typing, then stopped. His thumb hovered over the screen, unable to decide if he should keep responding or put the datapad down and end the conversation there. But then another message popped up before he could reply.

How’s the flight so far? I bet it’s quiet. I’d trade my chaos for your peace right now.

Quiet? Peaceful? That was what she thought this was. And in a way, she was right—out here in the stillness of space, there was nothing but the hum of the ship and his own thoughts. But right now, those thoughts were anything but peaceful.

His fingers moved before he could stop them.

I’m not sure you’d like it. Too much time alone out here makes a guy think too much.

The moment he sent it, he regretted the vulnerability. It wasn’t like him to open up like that, not even to her. But she responded almost immediately, her words striking a chord he hadn’t expected.

Thinking isn’t always so bad. Just don’t let it get the better of you. You’ve got people who care about you, Rex.

He exhaled sharply, his chest tightening at her words. You’ve got people who care about you. Did she mean herself? Was that what she was trying to say? Or was he reading too much into it, letting his mind twist her kindness into something it wasn’t?

He had to stop this.

Rolling over, he typed out a quick reply.

Thanks. I’ll try not to overthink it. Get some sleep, Doc. You need it.

The dots indicating she was typing appeared immediately, letting him know she hadn't deviated from his message, reading it instantly and forming a response without delay. Soon another message came across his screen.

That's a polite way to say I look terrible. Not that I blame you, these eye bags could carry a venator...

Grumpily sitting up, as if sitting up would somehow aid him in typing his message, he quickly replied without a thought before he could worry over the interpretation. Perhaps it was because he was angry with himself for the action he'd only very recently just undertaken, but something about the way she degraded herself didn't sit right with him.

Not at all what I meant, and you know that. Your eyes might show you're tired, but that doesn’t mean they're anything less than beautiful. Just… making sure someone forces you to get rest since we both know you have a habit of neglecting that. Whatever you are doing can likely wait till the morning. So just do me the solid and head home and get the rest? People care about you too.

This time, he didn’t wait for her response. He placed the datapad face-down on the small table beside his bunk and turned away, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep.

But her image lingered in his mind—the tired eyes, the soft smile, the way she had reached out to him like she always did. It was comforting, and it was torture. And no matter how tightly he tried to close his eyes, he couldn’t push her away.

His datapad chirped one last time, and despite his better judgment, he reached for it. He told himself he was just checking—just making sure it wasn’t something urgent. But deep down, he knew the truth. He wanted to hear from her again.

Her message was simple.

I suppose you are right. Goodnight, Rex. Sweet dreams.

That was it. No teasing remark, no playful jab—just a quiet goodnight.

He exhaled, sinking back into his pillow, the tension in his body finally easing. Maybe it was the exhaustion setting in, or maybe it was the warmth her words left behind, but for the first time that night, he let himself stop fighting it.

And whether he wanted to or not, she was the last thing he thought of before the stars faded into darkness.

Full illustration by @leenathegreengirl !

#star wars #tbb #legacygirlingreen’s writing #pabuverse #oc mae #mae killough #captain rex x oc #the clone wars au #the clone wars fanfiction #captain rex fanart #captain rex #ns/fw

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lemon-popp · 7 months ago

Text

spending time with the sith: episode i

Pairing: Qimir x Black! female OC

word count: 1,223

warnings: nothing really. just plot establishing

master list

"Hey. Hey, wake up," Master Sol attempts to wake a young woman, her body rocking back and forth with every soft nudge he gave on her shoulder. Sol has been at it for minutes now, his gentle nudges getting more urgent in worry.

Everyone on his team, Jecki, Yord, Osha and even Mae, sat around the bench in which the mystery girl laid upon. They found the girl on the unknown planet after being tipped off about an unidentified person targeting the four jedi, where she laid in the middle of the forest. Knocked out, but with no visible injuries.

The young lady sported an oversized cream colored wrap top, that contrasted her mocha brown skin. Her hair was slicked back in a neat curly puff, accentuating the beautiful features that adorned her.

She looks rather clean for someone passed out in the forest, Sol thought

Suddenly, as if on cue, the girl's eyes shoot open, followed by a sharp gasp that makes everyone surrounding the bench flinch back cautiously. Mystery lady pants in an inhuman way, her chest heaving as if she has ran a marathon. her eyes scanning the foreign area.

However, sol being masterful, rushes to comfort and question her.

"You're okay," Sol soothes,"You're okay. What is your name young one?"

Her breathing begins to settle into an appropriate rhythm to sustain consciousness. Now she is able to take in all the new faces that surrounded her.

She was face to face with a Jedi.

"I—Luna. My name is Luna," The girl, whose name now revealed to be Luna, exhales out, feeling a sense of calmness that's was still riddled with confusion.

"Luna. How are you feeling?" Sol inquires gently, bringing his soft hand to her forehead, knuckles first.

"Sol, we do not have time for this. We must find the sith," Yord interjects with a firm hand on the jedi's shoulder and a stern expression on his face. Anyone on the outside would believe that Yord is Sol's master and not the other way around.

"Yord please. If anything, she would know where to find him" Jecki now interjects the interjector, gesturing their hand to the quiet girl that sat still on the bench," Do you live here?"

Luna's eyes land on Jecki, whose eyes hold a pleading look. Luna figures whatever mission this group is on right now. It is serious.

"No. I-I don't. I just came here to get something for my mother,"

"Do you recall why you were knocked out in the middle of knowhere?," Mae suddenly speaks up. Her voice dry and cold.

Luna sits quietly. Trying to actively remember what led her to that moment. Rather who did that to her. Then it dawned on her.

"I just remember meeting a man. The only person i've ever met here,"

The team all shared knowing gazes with each other. That Luna couldn't help but feel left out of.

"Tell us more about this man" Sol focuses Luna's gaze back on him with a gentle touch on her knee. An urgent but concerned look glazing his soft eyes.

Luna nods, recalling everything she remembers. Starting from the very moment she had bumped into him on this lonely planet. Everything.

three days earlier

Luna landed on planet mystery, which is the name Luna and her mother had given this uninhibited place after visiting accidentally long ago. Though many would find that trait to be jarring, the two actually found it charming. The quiet sound of the forest, mixed with the crashing of the shore was a peaceful contrast to the bussing city-life of their home planet. They instantly fell in love with this place.

Way before they were introduced to the fruit.

Luna and her mother ran into this special fruit in a desperate endeavor. A rule in traveling that her mother always shared was,"Never eat their food"

But that day was an exception due to the lack of food on their rinky dink ship. Which is what led to the introduction to...THE FRUIT.

The fruit was a bulbous, pinkish white berry that hung from the large vined trees. It's was a pretty

treacherous task to retrieve it, but my god was it worth it.

The fruit was the sweetest and juiciest fruit of them all. Almost tasting like the most sugary candy of all. Ever since then, this fruit has been a treasure for Luna and her family.

Today, Luna was here alone to retrieve the fruit. She planned to bring it back home to her mother who laid in bed. Sick. Her mother was diagnosed with cancer just three months ago, progressing nothing but swift. Luna wasn't sure how long she had left with her mom, but she knew it wasn't long. A part of her felt fear for leaving home to do this trip, but the other side wanted them to experience the fruits of life together one last time before she's gone. Before luna is all alone.

Luna wipes a tear that stains her face and carries on the path to the fruit tree. Her big combat boots stomp on the dirt path ahead, occasionally hearing the crunch of leaves and sticks. It was strange being here alone, but she wasn't afraid. She's never afraid. The word fear barely existed to her. Unless it involved her mom's condition.

After two hours of trekking, Luna finally is met with the special tree. Throwing her backpack down, Luna starts her climb with no hesitation. It felt like a piece of cake after doing it over a dozen times. Her gloved hands grab the nearest branch, using her pure strength to pull herself up successfully. Luna now sat on the branch and used her arms to hug the stump for balance to slowly stand up to continue climbing. As luna starts to stand, her foot slips just slightly. but a slight slip send the girl falling from her position, right back onto the ground, landing awkwardly on her left ankle.

A stinging burning sensation starts at her foot, slowly making its way up to her chest, escaping its way out of her mouth is a deep cry. Luna wailed, reaching for her tender ankle, as if anyone is here. She is alone. on an uninhabited planet.

why? why me? i'm gonna die here

Tears streamed down her beautiful face, tasting the bitter salt. After what feels like hours of crying, that was probably only just a couple minutes, Luna passes out in this forest. injured and alone.

alone.

A man emerges from the forest. Pushing elephant plants out of his way. The man wore a golden-brown helmet with an eerie smile plastered on the face.

The man immediately noticed Luna. Her petite figure laying flat on the dirt. He presumes that she either dead or almost dead as he bends down slowly, hands near his lightsaber just in case this is a trap from the jedi. As of now, no one knew of him, but you could never be too cautious.

As he gets closer, The man notices the short and soft rise of her round chest.

She's alive.

Hesitantly, he picks Luna up bridal style with so much ease, searching for any hint of betrayal. He senses nothing and makes his way back to wherever he came from.

episode ii

#qimir #qimir the acolyte #black reader #ambw #fanfic #female oc #smut #romance #the acolyte #star wars

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lilghostiequinni · 8 months ago

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Sick & Injured

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Reserve Driver!female oc (Alessia) x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy, Established relationship, Injury

Summary: She's a reserve driver for McLaren and was called upon when Oscar had fallen ill, now he's done something to get injured that he physically can't be in the race for most of the rest of the season, McLaren understands this and tells him, it's okay and nothing will jeopardize his current contract because stuff happens. But she's called upon again to take Oscar's place, per his request.

Requested: NO / yes

It started with the race in Australia, Oscar didn't feel the greatest going into FP1, but raced anyway, then before FP2 was determined to be unable to race because of illness.

Oscar was told he wouldn't be able to race for the rest of the weekend, and before anyone could get to a reserve driver Oscar asked for Alessia Maes, a Belgian-Peruvian driver driving under the Peruvian flag.

She had the chance to be a driver before but turned it down saying she was fine driving for free practices and as a reserve driver, not wanting all the glory that comes with being a full time Formula One driver.

When she was told that Oscar asked for her to drive in his home race, she at first refused, but with some convincing she did race in FP3 and for Qualis, ending P6.

She raced on Sunday for the actual race too, many fans were rather confused as to why she was racing and not Oscar, many were mad or upset that Oscar wasn't racing, many happy that a female driver was racing in a Grand Prix.

Before the race on Sunday, McLaren took to social media saying that Oscar was sick and unable to race and that Alessia Maes would be taking his place over the weekend.

When fans learned Oscar was sick, they sent the support to him, and supported the driver they were told Oscar requested.

They learned that Oscar requested her, though his own social media profiles, with him saying, "Sadly, I am unable to race for the rest of the weekend, but the reserve driver of Alessia Maes will be taking my place for the weekend, per my request as she and I have become great friends in the last two years and I have no doubt in her skills as a driver."

So, with fan support, Alessia Maes made P3 behind Lando and Max, P1 and P2 respectively.

After the weekend many fans supported her on being a driver when Oscar couldn't, or Lando.

In Shanghai, Oscar returned to the Grid as Alessia went back into the garage.

During the week of Japan, Oscar was again unable to compete in the race weekend, this time it was some injury he had sustained falling from his bike when he went biking with Alessia and Lando, Lily too.

Fans speculated that Alessia intentionally pushed him off the bike to get his spot, but when the video from McLaren came out the next day after it was announced that Oscar couldn't compete in Japan fans realized that she was ahead of Oscar and wasn't anywhere near him when he fell.

But she did warn about the spot in which Oscar fell at.

It was seen in the video that Alessia came straight over when Oscar yelled out in pain.

Fans realized it was Alessia who told the camera crew to turn off the cameras and help get Oscar to a car.

It was on social media that fans learned that Alessia originally didn't want to drive in place of Oscar and that Oscar told her to.

It was also on social media that Oscar announced he wouldn't be driving for the rest of the season saying, "I will not be driving for the rest of the season, the injury from biking put me out for about 5 months, which would be some time around Monza. The amount of time I would need after to help fully recover is another 2 months, leaving only 4 races left in the season from there. So, I have made the decision that while, I will be in the garage sometime to help, but not drive that I have recommended Alessia Maes as my replacement for the season, a driver that has already scored points towards the championship."

For the rest of the season Alessia did PR and races in Oscar's place, scoring ahead of Mac Verstappen in some places and behind him in other's with Lando taking P1 in many races.

With the final race in Abu Dhabi, she scored P3 with Lando P1 Max P2.

Getting 3rd in the World Championship overall with only one point between her and Max Verstappen.

At the World Championship ceremony Lando proposed to his girlfriend of 2 years, Alessia Maes.

Afterwards many fans went back through videos and photos with her to see if there was any indication that the two were together

A/N: I used the 2025 calendar for this.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

#f1 #formula 1 #ln4 #lando norris #mclaren #lando norris imagine #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris x reader #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x oc #lando norris x you #lando x reader

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dearstvckyx · 1 month ago

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I do’s and surprises - OP81 (ft JB9 + other players and drivers)

summary: At her wedding to Joe Burrow, Oscar Piastri’s older sister, Mia, is surprised when Oscar shows up for an emotional first look. Overwhelmed by the presence of F1 drivers and family, the day is filled with tears, heartfelt moments, and joy. The night ends with everyone celebrating as she and Joe sit at the head table, holding a special picture and embracing their future together.

pairing: older sister! oc! Mia Piastri x Younger Brother! Oscar Piastri / bride! Mia Piastri x groom! Joe Burrow

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . . 　⁺ 　 .

The morning sun peeked through the bridal suite, casting a soft glow over the chaos inside. Mia Piastri, soon to be Burrow, stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the lace of her wedding dress for what felt like the hundredth time. Her younger sisters, Mae, Edie, and Hattie bustled around her, fussing over details while trying to hold back their own tears.

“Stop fidgeting!” Mae scolded, smoothing the veil over her older sisters curls. “You look perfect.”

Edie grinned. “Joe’s going to pass out when he sees you.”

Hattie giggled. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll make sure he does.”

Despite their banter, her mind was elsewhere. Specifically, on Oscar. She had knew his schedule was insane—F1 races, media obligations, training. Mia had tried to accept that he wouldn’t be able to make it to hers and Joe’s wedding, but it still stung. She was his older sister, the one who taught him how to tie his shoes and cheered him on at every karting race. Not having him here felt like something was missing.

A knock at the door snapped Mia out of her thoughts. Her mom poked her head in with a wide smile.

“Ready for the first look with your father?” Nicole asked.

Mia responded with a small, “Yes Mum.”, grabbing the hem of her dress and following her mother out. The hallway was quiet, the sound of heels clicking against the polished floors. When they had reached the courtyard, Mia was told to close her eyes.

“I’ll call you when it’s time,” her mother said.

Mia smiled and shut her eyes, heart pounding with anticipation. The sound of approaching footsteps made her grin.

“Okay, Dad, I’m ready,” she said, turning around.

But when she opened her eyes, it wasn’t her dad standing there—it was Oscar.

Mia’s breath caught in her throat. He was in a sharp suit, his trademark shy smile breaking through as his eyes darted between his older sister and the ground.

“You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?” he said, voice cracking slightly.

Mia bursted into tears, throwing her arms around her baby brother. “You said you couldn’t make it!”

“I lied,” he admitted, hugging her tightly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

The oldest two Piastri siblings stood there for a moment, wrapped in the kind of sibling bond that didn’t need words. Finally, Mia pulled back and wiped both her tears and Oscar’s, laughing.

“Now you’ve ruined my makeup,” she teased.

He smirked. “You’re welcome.”

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . . 　⁺ 　 .

As she prepared to walk down the aisle, Mia noticed something that made her stop in your tracks. Sitting among the guests were all the F1 drivers, past and present. Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, even Logan Sargeant and Frederik Vesti from Oscar’s F2 days.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, trying to keep it together. “Oscar invited the entire paddock?”

Hattie leaned in, whispering, “They said he threatened to put them in the wall if they didn’t come.”

Mia laughed, shaking her head as tears threatened to spill again. The sight of so many people who meant so much to her brother, and by extension to her, was overwhelming.

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . . 　⁺ 　 .

The ceremony was beautiful. Mia walked down the aisle alongside her father, heart soaring as Joe’s eyes met hers. The vows were heartfelt, and by the time the two said “I do,” there wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd.

During the reception, Oscar stood to give a speech. He cleared his throat, glancing nervously at the microphone before starting.

“I’ve always looked up to my sister,” he began, voice shaking. “She’s been my biggest supporter, my best friend, and the one person who always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

His voice cracked, and he paused, visibly trying to hold back tears. The room was silent, everyone hanging on his every word.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice breaking completely as tears rolled down his cheeks. “And I’m so happy you found someone who loves you as much as you deserve.”

Despite it being short, it was sweet to those who knew Oscar. Mia was already crying as she rushed up to hug him. “I love you,” she whispered.

The father-daughter dance started, Chris leading his baby girl gracefully across the dance floor. But halfway through, Mia looked at her father and he understood, as Chris let go and backed away, Mia had turned to Oscar.

“Come here,” she said, holding out her hand.

His eyes widened. “What? No, this is your moment.”

“Get over here, Ozzie Bear,” Mia insisted.

He reluctantly joined her, taking her hand as the music continued. It wasn’t long before he started crying again, and Mia had to blink back her own tears.

“Stop crying,” she teased, though her own voice was thick with emotion. “You’re making me cry.”

“Sorry,” he sniffed. “I can’t help it.”

Hattie, Edie, and Mae joined you on the dance floor, wrapping their arms around the two of you. The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, dancing, and love. F1 drivers, Bengals players, family, and friends all mingled, creating a night to remember.

You and Joe sat at the head table, watching the scene with matching smiles. He reached over, taking your hand in his. You glanced down and smiled, your free hand resting on the small sonogram tucked inside your bouquet.

“Ready for the next chapter?” Joe asked softly.

You looked up at him, eyes shining. “I’ve been ready my whole life.”

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . . 　⁺ 　 .

Read Part Two Here

#oscar piastri #op81 #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #joe burrow #jb9 #cincinnati bengals #max verstappen #mv1 #charles leclerc #cl16 #lewis hamilton #lh44 #lando norris #ln4 #logan sargeant #ls2 #frederik vesti

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keithsandwich · 6 months ago

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Her Sun & His Earth

Pairing: Keith/OC (Maeve)

Word Count: ~2.7k

Rating: Explicit - NSFW

Tags: Smut with Feelings, Established Relationship, Nudity, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Breeding.

Summary: It's Summer, and Earth and Sun miss each other. Keith surprises Maeve and dress her up in jewelry.

Notes: Oh, I have so many people to thank! It's been 5 mouths since I last posted Keith and Maeve fanfic and all the love and support I got really helped me finally being able to write again! Thank you so so much @bicayaya, @candied-boys, @lorei-writes (for the brainrot and for all the suggestions that made this fic so much better!), @nightghoul381, @scummy-writes and all my other friends who encouraged me. Love you all!!

Oh, and thank you @xxsycamore for the amazing Sexy Ikemen Summer because it also helped me a lot! Though I know I used the Let them play dress-up with you prompt loosely here.

Summer was the season of blooming life. The Sun reached the peak of his power, and the Earth was radiant and fertile, ready to conceive and give birth to his many seeds. She was hot and lush. Maeve didn’t need to be outside, face turned towards the sky and her feet on the ground, to feel it. The warm air touched her skin even inside the palace, making it glow in darker shades of gold and glimmer with tiny crystals of sweat. Her movements were languid, her sighs heavy. Her hair, usually down in nightly waves, was now constantly up in intricate braids. It was hard to concentrate on her studies and palatian duties.

When the fires of summer burned, the body demanded… movement. Walking through the many palace corridors wasn’t enough. Taking strolls in the garden wasn't enough. Even taking out horses for a ride in the woods wasn’t enough. Maeve was consumed by longing and need, something that roused at night within her belly, filled her chest, numbed her mind.

And ached. Oh, it ached.

“How long until he's back?” Yule asked. When Maeve’s distracted gaze turned to her, the woman had a knowing smile on her face.

Of course she, of all people, would know. Yule received the same education Maeve had, and her connection with nature was rare among the palace residents. Summer was the time to be with your lover, just as Earth enjoyed her time with the Sun. The fact that Keith had to be away on business in Benitoite during this time of year was excruciating for Maeve.

She took a deep breath and straightened her back. The hands that were previously working with the herbs in the lab now rested on her waist. The herbs permeated the air with a fresh scent, but Maeve still felt hot.

“He said he won't be able to be here for the Full Moon,” she lamented with a shrug and a weak smile.

“Poor girl, if you're missing him this much already, the Full Moon will only make it worse.” Maeve only nodded at Yule’s words. It wasn't like she could deny it anyway. “I might have something to help you with your fever.”

Yule gave Maeve a small bottle that evening. The chilling liquid helped her through the next few days, but the solution only came to her on one of the brightest nights of that year.

Moonbeams filtered through the plants by the window. They bathed her body, naked since nightgowns smothered her in warmer seasons and made it harder to sleep. But her mind didn't drift to the realm of dreams at all. Instead, it delved into memories of them. Their earthly smell. Their soft hair. Their sturdy body in her arms, between her thighs, weighing over herself.

“Keith…” Maeve whispered, turning around and hiding her face in his pillow. Her hand traveled down her lower belly. Her fingers sank into the luxuriant forest of her intimacy, damp in a rain of desire. Her hips bucked on their own.

And then, there was nothing but her labored breathing against the soft pillow, where traces of their presence still lingered.

Oh, how she needed to have more — so much more than that.

“Mae…”

Keith's gentle voice snapped her out of her fantasies and back to reality. A surprising reality it was. Maeve couldn't hide her disbelief as she sat up straight and tried to rub any possible illusions from her eyes. But it was true. There he was, standing by the door holding a wooden box in his hands. His flushed cheeks were vivid among the green, white, and gold, and especially under the blue moonlight. That could have been the result of the heat, of riding at a breakneck pace to meet her, or of witnessing the scene unfolding before his interruption.

Little did she know, it was a mix of all those things.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, I, ah…” Keith said clumsily, his thoughtfulness preventing him from addressing what he had seen upon his arrival.

“Keith! Thought you wouldn’t be here unt-” Maeve said at the same time, a tad louder. Both interrupted themselves when they realized it, and shared a sheepish smile in silence.

Maeve scooted to the side of the bed, ready to run into his arms, but Keith hurried to meet her before she could get up. His tall, large figure towered over her with an insecure posture, then he lowered himself to one knee. He couldn't recall exactly how he placed the box on the floor beside him. All he could focus on was her, the disheveled hair adorning her naked silhouette against the full moon outside, the delight tinting her cheeks a scarlet tone. Her plump lips looked ready to be kissed. But above all, her eyes shone, calling for him.

He would always see a goddess in Maeve. And in an act of grace, her hand touched his face, fingers brushing the curls away from his sweaty forehead. Keith knew he should apologize for not composing himself properly after a long ride, but the divine scent that still clung to her fingers filled his lungs with primal desires, numbing his thoughts completely.

“I missed you,” he confessed in a whisper, taking her dainty hand in his and covering her palm with passionate kisses. “I’m sorry, I had to see you as soon as possible, otherwise I would go mad…”

Keith reached the nectar on her fingers with his tongue, lapping at them tenderly. An act so shameful he felt his face burning, but it was simply inevitable. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he had already gone mad. Maeve let out a sweet, weak sound. Shy shivers washed over her digits and spread up her palm. While her index and middle fingers were still in his mouth, he looked up to find her blushing and sighing wishfully.

“I missed you too…” Maeve murmured.

Aw shucks, Keith said to himself. He had to focus. He took a deep breath to try to contain the madness. He couldn't just jump on Maeve like an animal in heat. Every moment with her was sacred, even the ones where they let their bodies talk — she had taught him so. He should honor them, as he honored her in his heart. Which reminded him–

“I… I brought you some gifts.” Keith let go of her hand and quickly turned to the box he had placed by his side. He missed the confusion in her eyes as he opened it. “They have this tradition in Benitoite that the more important the person, the more jewelry they wear. And I just… I kept thinking all the time that if you were there with me, I would cover you in jewels, Mae.”

She shook her head. “Keith, I'm not that important.”

“You are,” he stated in a sweet voice. Keith took a shiny, golden anklet from the box. It had many pendants that jingled softly when he held it. “You are the most important person to me.”

“May I?” he asked, and as she nodded, his free hand gently cradled her heel, thumb caressing her skin. As used to being bare as they were, her feet felt surprisingly soft. Keith laid her foot on his knee and wrapped the jewelry around her ankle, closing the clasp with trembling fingers. Maeve leaned in to look, moving her foot slowly to get the feel of it, the pendants tinkling quietly.

“It’s beautiful…” Her smile shone brighter than the gold against her skin. When she made a motion to pull her leg back, Keith held it in place. His hand glided up to her knee.

“I’m sorry, can you wait a bit? There’s more,” he pleaded with a kiss on the curve of her knee, making her answer with an oh.

Oh, how hard it was for him to stop himself from just continuing to kiss her.

Returning to the box, Keith picked an intricate set of chains attached to a garter. Maeve tilted her head, watching him untangle the delicate jewelry. “What is it?” she asked in a shy breath, and he grew even more flushed, suddenly conscious about how intimate it would be to put it on her.

“This is a thigh chain… I thought it was too much, but this was his idea. If you don't want to–” Keith nervously tried to put it away and apologize for the suggestion, but when he looked up at Maeve's face, she was biting her lower lip while smiling softly. He felt her moving her leg up and rushed to offer her support. She was way too kind for giving him this honor. He carefully slid the garter up her leg, fingers brushing her skin along the way, feeling it getting warmer and warmer as he approached the center of her heat.

Keith didn't touch it, however. He diligently positioned the jewelry on her thigh, so the chains fell where they were supposed to. His eyes wandered to her lavish pubic hair, dark and glistening with her essence. The memory of Maeve's hips bucking against her hand made his blood run hot again. His body moved forward on its own, positioning itself between her legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist. His ear rested against her navel, and Keith took in her scent as deeply as he could. Enclosed in that little sanctuary, he could feel his heartbeat echoing on the walls of her presence.

“Keith…” she called for him with a hand lost in his hair, causing him to smile.

With the side of his face still against her stomach, he looked at the infinite sweetness of her green eyes. “I'm sorry,” Keith mumbled, “I got carried away. There's more…”

“That’s enough. In fact, that’s more than enough,” Maeve tried to convince him, her irresistible fingers lightly brushing against his scalp, but he knew it wasn’t enough. She deserved so much more.

“Please… Let me,” he insisted among the kisses he placed around her navel. Her tender skin shivered under his lips.

“Okay,” she answered after a long, broken sigh.

Keith went back to the box, bringing another chain jingling with pendants for her waist, followed by a delicate necklace. Then came a huge one that almost covered her cleavage, a pair of long earrings, and multiple bracelets for each of her arms. Finally, there were the rings — seven of them, each so distinct that Maeve could tell who had chosen which, yet every single one was so shiny it seemed like she was carrying the full moon in her hands.

He kissed the tips of her fingers.

He let his body fall back to his knees.

He pulled her gently by the hands, prompting her to stand up in front of him.

And as Maeve went with his flow, Keith had his dream come true. All he dreamed about while in Benitoite, surrounded by opulence and gold, was her. There was no one else he wished to see like that, adorned and kissed by the noblest of metals, the metal that legends said was part of the Sun. Maeve was his goddess Earth, now properly blessed by the king star as she should be. As for Keith, he would always feel honored to be her worshiper.

“I love you, Mae…” His voice was supplicant, though his pleading was silent. A would-you-let-this-humble-servant-kiss-you fell as his lips touched her foot. The tinkling sound of the anklet, as Keith took her heel in his hand again, was louder than any of his pleas. In the softest sighs and murmurs, he left no inch unkissed, from her toe to her knee. Slowly. At last, his gaze raised — devotedly, respectfully — in a please-I-need-you.

A please-may-I-pleasure-you.

“Yes. Yes, you may,” she conceded with a radiant smile. On his knees, Keith felt Maeve was so much bigger than she really was. The valleys and contours of her body were a world of their own, nature breathing through her lungs, alive through the rush of blood in her veins, wet in drops of salty sweat and sweet streams of yearning.

Passionate fingers grabbed her hips with agony. Soft fingers brushed his hair back, lovingly encouraging him as his lips finally found the fountain of desire hidden between the fires of her thighs. The flavor Keith had only a taste of earlier now filled his mouth. He knew it so well, and yet his soul would always long for it. No Benitoitian liquor could suffice. The divine waters of her lust quenched his weeks-long thirst; turned her sensitive skin more and more slippery as he rolled his tongue through her slit.

Maeve sung songs of relief, loud and melodic. She danced too against his open mouth, her ornamented thigh ensnaring his shoulder, hips moving in synchrony with his tongue and with her music. Perfect, like nature.

“Keith, I…” she said, losing the control of her tone.

And she shook, and she trembled. Her water dripped from his chin when she couldn't take it anymore, and with a strong grip from her weak hands Maeve pulled his head back. In ecstasy she laid on his body; her ecstasy so shared by him, Keith only minded his own erection when she released it from his trousers. The fact that he was lying on his back on the floor took longer for him to realize. How could he, when his goddess was so willingly claiming him? The way she suddenly nestled his length in her drew a moan from his throat. She hurriedly unbuttoned his jacket and shirt, her hands reaching the place where he carried her all the time. Maeve leaned down, held him, kissed him madly, the chilling metal of the jewelry sending shivers through him. They jingled softly with her needy movements, but no sound was louder than their voices combined.

“Maeve…” Her name was a prayer on his lips. An ancient chanting. A long lost mystery. “Mae…” he begged again, grasping her breast desperately, daring to thrust into her sacred embrace.

Keith never understood how he could be so blessed as to be loved by her. Her eyes showed nothing but tenderness for him. It was as if she was as devoted to him as he was to her. But why?

All he knew was the delight in feeling her womb taking in his seed, so ready to nurture it into a new life Maeve's body squirmed in pleasure along with his. Nothing would ever be as wonderful as that.

Nothing.

Not a thing in the whole universe. The infinite universe Keith would never be able to behold with a telescope, but that fit perfectly in their hearts beating together as the world fell silent.

And the next time they looked into each other’s eyes, they smiled with the purest of joys.

“I love you… Oh, Keith, I was dying without you,” she whispered, sweetly dramatic. Something reserved for such rare moments.

He giggled like a fool.

“Don't say that. I'm the one who needs you like air, Mae.” Keith held her carefully in his arms while standing up from the floor. He was pathetically disheveled while she still looked otherworldly, golden jewelry illuminating her skin and glowing under moonlight. “You’re a goddess, while I–”

“Shush…” Maeve placed her index finger on his lips before properly sealing them with a gentle kiss. “You’re the Sun to my Earth. I was withering without your warmth.”

“My warmth,” Keith echoed. He was a weed. He was so damp, with such a phlegmatic disposition he could easily grow mushrooms. Or so he used to be. “You missed my warmth…”

He smiled softly. Not so carefully, he let himself fall into their bed, their bodies entangling rather naturally among little light laughs. Keith had never thought of it this way, but maybe there was a truth in it. It wasn’t until he found his Earth in Maeve that he turned into a Sun. Just so he could reach her. Just so he could warm her with kisses and make her flourish in evergreen gardens of love.

And while she was his goddess, he would shine for her.

Taglist: @queengiuliettafirstlady @candied-boys @fang-and-feather @scummy-writes @m-mmiy

@hellecat @nightghoul381 @lorei-writes (let me know if you want in or out of the taglist)

#sexy ikemen summer cc #keith howell #ikemen prince #ikepri oc #keith and maeve #fanfiction #mdni

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mae-the-gay-nerd · 3 days ago

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just got a new sketchbook today because I was tired of using a bullet journal, so of course my first drawing had to be an OC with a pintrest reference pose

#I can tell if it’s good or not #mae’s art #one of mae's many ocs

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oh-to-be-a-murderer · 9 months ago

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Natasha Afiona

Marvel RP Blog

Owner - @natasha-ki-mehfil

Blog command centre - @natasha-afiona-blog-commander

🇵🇸FREE FREE PALESTINE🇵🇸

Please ask me, talk to me, reblog and join my conversations!

A part of " @murde-shaayar-mashwaraah "

Name: Natasha (Nana) Burrie Afiona, Natasha, Nana. Whatever you please

Taken by: @charlotte-rogers-barnes ♡

Gender: Female, she/her, LeZbean //not really but my OC is//

Age: 18 BABY

Languages: English, Bengali, Urdu, Hindi, Russian, Marathi, Korean (But I get progressively worse as the list goes down)

Likes: Crocheting, knitting, weaving, cooking. Scrolling on tumblr

Dislikes: Eating, studying

Height: 5 foot 2 baby

"Adoptive" Family: @white-wolf-actually @iwasmadetobeasoldier @the-golden-poster-boy

"Adaptive" family (Friends): @official-buckybarnes @fluffycows4life @we-love-redwing @ivanova-web-droid @serenastark-official @rider-axel-s-at-everything @under0-0s

Unofficially adopted daughter: @missbeebeeboo

Powers: Phasing through objects, teleporting throughout the multiverse, Invisibility, teleportation.

Weaknesses: Cannot warp if she is standing on ground. If she wants to warp through places with someone they have to jump and be off ground or they'll be left behind and only she'll warp. If her concentration breaks while phasing through objects she will immediately die from being impaled.

//Will use //x// or [[x]] when speaking Ooc//

[MOOD BOARD BY MY BESTIE @official-charlotte-rogers-barnes ]

Rp info down below the cut ⬇️

Backstory:

"I was originally born to be a test subject. Just another lab rat for C70. Hydra's alternative in my universe. They tested on me for nine years, since I turned 2 and tried getting me to work on this "project see-through". It was a test to get their troops into other universes, obviously for "World domination". They thought I was a failure again but I actually succeded. They threw me out... no litterally, like in a body bag expecting me to die of suffocation but since I wasn't a failed test I could warp out of there!"

Current situation:

" I got adopted by two people. Since I am old enough to actually live on my own I do. I live with Rider sometimes at his. He's like... 19 idk... idr. And we are the bestest of friends, he's dating this certain someone who I can not take the name of cuz he'll kill me... but yeah everything else is good. We live in New York pretty simple house. Not really many distractions but he also has a house in Romania so I go there like... a lot."

Sudden disappearance:

"I was gone on a mission for (shhh don't tell anyone) RusselViper. Somewhat like S.H.I.E.L.D but a bit more... let's say righteous? S.H.I.E.L.D has a history of hiding things don't they? Anyway. I work there and have been working there for like the past... three years? They sent me on a mission for five months and your girl slayed it. Now I'm back in business"

RusselViper:

"Normally it would be recognised as a snake... a random snake right? But to me it's like a home of some sort. They take in Minors and work with them. No one above the age of 19 is allowed to join, you may only join if you are 13 and older but below 18. They do this because most organisations don't really take in kids... do they? Anyway so less of an opportunity to have breach ins or black sheep's inside the facility. They have multiple headquarters and most of them aren't even in a hidden position. Out in the wild training the future."

Why?:

"One of the trainees in there reached out to me after hearing I have powers, they thought I could help them in the more serious missions. Turns out I could. Well not every single one but being able to do one-man or in my case one-woman extracts? It was a blessing."

Face claim: Jessie Mae Alonzo

#pinned post #marvel #natasha afiona #about me

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samieree · 7 months ago

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Peace, Wound, Scar. Again. || SW: The Acolyte

Qimir (The Stranger) x OC

-> Next chapter

Description:

Someone is murdering Jedi. Master Indara was found dead on Ueda. The matter must be dealt with quickly and it would be best if it went unnoticed, so that the Jedi Council would not find out anything about it, because it would be obliged to inform the Galactic Senate about everything.

Elyssa - a Jedi Knight - who rarely had the opportunity to go on missions - for some reason no one was willing to send her on them… - is one of the people that Master Sol is supposed to take with him. For now, it's just a matter of finding and catching Osha, because the prison ship has crashed.

But someone is still killing Jedi. And behind this person there is someone much worse...

Or maybe not worse at all?

Introduction:

Elyssa Haen.

Her friends call her “Lys”.

She has a scar that starts at the hairline, goes across her forehead, eyebrow, part of the cheek and ends near her ear. Apparently she got it so early in her childhood that she doesn't even remember it.

(Or at least that's what she was told).

For almost two years she waited for someone to decide to take her as their Padawan, but eventually - despite everything - Master Vernestra decided to do so. Under her wing, she completed training, passed trials and became a Jedi Knight.

She fights with a blue, double-bladed lightsaber.

Her green eyes are accompanied by locks of brown hair, which - since she spends most of her time at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant - she usually straightens.

After many years she managed to overcome her fear of water - thanks to the help of her friend Yord Fandar - although sometimes she still feels anxious when faced with lakes or oceans.

It would seem that there is some fear of letting her go too far and for too long from the Temple, but the situation changes when Master Indara is killed and suspicion falls on Osha, who had left the Jedi Order several years earlier.

The girls knew each other well and spent a lot of time together, as if pushed to bond with each other.

Osha and Mae are twins. Twins are said to be one soul in two bodies. Elyssa is one soul in one body. One, huge - and often conflicted - soul.

"The power of two."

Probably tomorrow I'll upload first chapter, so stay tuned <3

-> general masterlist -> Star Wars masterlist

#qimir #qimir the acolyte #the acolyte #star wars #star wars the acolyte #qimir x oc #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #wattpad #wattpad writer #qimir is sooo... ugh

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nephalem-da · 4 months ago

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Celestial Bonds AU

Chapter 1: Strength Behind Silence

(Bill Cipher x OC)

Synopsis: Bill and Mae, once inseparable childhood friends, now face the complexities of growing up. When an admirer pushes Mae too far, her hidden strength emerges, leaving Bill both protective and in awe of his best friend.

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter.

Bill and Mae had always been inseparable. Ever since they were children, their bond had been something special. It wasn’t just that they were both different—though that certainly played a part—it was that they understood each other in a way no one else could. They were misfits, rejected by most of the others in their world for reasons they couldn't control. Mae was shy, her solitary eye often the source of ridicule, while Bill's odd nature, his sharp mind, and eccentric behavior alienated him from those who couldn't grasp his brilliance.

From the very beginning, they had formed an unspoken pact. It was them against the world, and nothing would change that. Together, they wandered through their strange dimension, exploring the ever-shifting landscapes, playing games that only they could understand. Bill always made sure to take Mae’s mind off the teasing she endured, and Mae, in turn, was the quiet presence that grounded Bill when his sharp edges threatened to go too far.

On quieter days, when the endless chaos of their world seemed to slow for a brief moment, they’d sit together, staring up at the infinite sky above them, watching the stars twinkle in their mysterious constellations. Mae’s fascination with the stars was contagious, and Bill would often find himself drawn into her quiet wonder, the two of them pointing out patterns in the night sky.

Mae had always been gentle, quiet, and Bill—despite his chaotic nature—found a strange comfort in her softness. She was his opposite in so many ways, and yet they fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle no one else could see.

His parents had teased him endlessly about it.

“Oh, Bill,” his mother would say, her voice full of playful amusement. “You spend so much time with Mae! You know what that means, don’t you? You two are going to end up together someday. Always sneaking off with her, disappearing for hours… Maybe you’ve already planned a wedding, hmm?”

Bill would flush a deep shade of pink, his soft form glowing with embarrassment. “Wh—what? No! We’re just friends!” he’d stammer, crossing his arms over his body in a defensive gesture. “Mae’s just my… my best friend! Nothing else!”

His parents would just laugh, shaking their heads knowingly. They’d seen the way he looked at Mae, the way he always gravitated toward her. But Bill was too stubborn to admit it. He was a kid. Liking someone that way was gross. They were just friends.

Except, as the years passed, something began to change.

Mae wasn’t that shy little girl anymore, and Bill couldn’t help but notice. She had grown into a graceful young woman, still soft-spoken and reserved, but there was a quiet strength to her now, something that drew the attention of the others. Her single eye, once a source of mockery, was now something unique and striking, and Bill hated the way some of the boys had started to take notice of her.

He hated how they would approach her, all smiles and charm, as if they hadn’t spent their childhoods mocking her for being different. And he hated how they tried to win her over, offering her trinkets and sweet words as if that would make her forget everything.

But what he hated most of all was the thought that one of them might succeed.

More than once, Bill had found himself stepping in when some arrogant fool tried to get too close to Mae. He’d stand between her and whatever idiot was trying to charm her, his voice sharp and biting. “Mae doesn’t need any of you,” he’d say, his tone laced with irritation. “She has me.”

Most of the boys would roll their eyes, dismissing him as overprotective or jealous. Some even found it amusing, especially when Bill’s usual cocky demeanor seemed to falter around her. But Bill didn’t care what they thought. Mae wasn’t interested in them, and they didn’t know her the way he did.

Except one boy, more persistent than the rest, had decided that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

His name wasn’t important—Bill couldn’t be bothered to remember it. He was just another faceless nobody, another fool who thought he could win Mae over with his smug smile and empty words. But this time, he had pushed too far.

Bill had been away, running an errand in the outer reaches of their dimension, and when he returned, he found Mae cornered in the town square, the boy leaning in far too close for comfort. His voice was smooth and confident, the kind of tone that sent a surge of anger through Bill’s core.

"Come on, Mae," the boy was saying, stepping forward as Mae instinctively stepped back. "You’re way too good to be hanging around Cipher. You deserve better—someone normal. Someone like me.”

Mae’s single eye narrowed, her body tense with discomfort, but she remained quiet. She had always been too polite, too reserved to speak up, and the boy took that as encouragement. He moved closer, reaching out to grab her arm as if he had already decided that she belonged to him.

Bill could feel the fury bubbling up inside him as he watched the scene unfold. He was too far away to intervene immediately, but his mind was already racing with a million ways to make this arrogant fool regret ever laying a hand on Mae.

The boy’s grip tightened on Mae’s arm, his voice turning patronizing. "You don’t have to keep pretending to like Bill, you know. You’ll be so much better off with me. People will actually respect you. You won’t have to be an outcast anymore, always hanging around with a freak like him."

That was it. The final straw.

But just as Bill prepared to charge in, something unexpected happened.

Mae yanked her arm free, her eye blazing with an intensity that Bill hadn’t seen in years. She straightened, her voice sharp and steady in a way that took the boy by surprise. “I said no,” she snapped, taking a step back. “I don’t want you, and I don’t need you. So leave me alone.”

The boy blinked, clearly thrown off by her sudden assertiveness. But he recovered quickly, a sneer wrinkled on his eyelids. "Oh, really? You think people are going to believe that the quiet, sweet little Mae would ever stand up to someone like me? They’ll think you’ve gone crazy."

Mae’s expression shifted, and a small, dangerous squint of her eye—equal to a smile—spread across her face. Her voice dropped, becoming soft and sweet, but there was an edge to it that sent a chill down the boy’s spine. "Oh, no one will believe you," she said softly. "After all, I’ve always been the shy one, right? The quiet girl who never speaks up, never causes trouble. Who would believe you over me?”

The boy’s confidence wavered, his eyes darting around as if suddenly realizing that he was alone in this fight. With a final, frustrated huff, he turned on his heel and stormed off, muttering curses under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd.

Mae let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging in relief. The adrenaline from the confrontation began to wear off, and she glanced around, hoping no one had seen the altercation. That’s when she realized Bill was standing right behind her.

She jumped, her single eye widening in surprise as she spun to face him. “Bill! I didn’t see you there.”

Bill’s smirk returned, though it was softer this time, his usual cockiness tempered by the admiration he felt. "Well, well," he drawled, crossing his arms over his triangular form. "Didn’t know you had that in you, Mae. That was… impressive."

Mae flushed, her usual shyness creeping back in as she fidgeted nervously. "I didn’t mean to… it just… happened."

Bill stepped closer, his sharp gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart race. “That guy had it coming,” he said quietly, his tone far more serious than usual. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Mae. You did great.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the encounter still hanging in the air between them. Mae’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing as she tried to process everything that had just happened.

She’d stood up for herself. She’d never done that before—not like this. And Bill… Bill had seen the whole thing. She wasn’t sure whether to feel proud or embarrassed.

Before she could decide, Bill broke the silence, his voice teasing once more. “You definitely scared him off. I think he’ll think twice before messing with you again.”

Mae smiled, feeling the tension in her body begin to melt away. “Thanks, Bill. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Bill’s edges softened, a faint blush appearing on his triangular body as he gave her a lopsided grin. “You’ll never have to find out.”

And as they walked side by side, the bond between them stronger than ever, Bill couldn’t help but wonder just how much longer he could deny the feelings that had been growing inside him for years.

Ya guys really want a part 2 of The Hunt, huh? I guess I'll do it, especially when you guys are spoiling me with the love and support! (o´∀`o)

˙⋆✮ ﾟ｡ •┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ✮⋆˙

Are you guys enjoying it?? Please tell me down on the comments!

Taglist: @1arlstar1

˙⋆✮ ﾟ｡ •┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ✮⋆˙

#bill cipher x reader #gravity falls #the book of bill #bill cipher x oc #gravity falls oc #bill cipher #self insert #mutual pining #in denial #slow burn

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