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oliveoilthoughts · 3 days
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Zuko finds out Katara was parentified from the age of eight and was a single mom friend of three until he stumbled into the position of gaang dad friend. So when she visits the Fire Nation Zuko dotes on her, making sure her every need is anticipated and catered to. He even goes as far as - to the horror of his council - kneeling to remove her shoes.
Because of this she earns the nickname Lady Katara among the palace staff which she finds amusing but a little confusing. So one day over tea she asks Iroh why they call her that and he explains:
"They're just practicing."
"Why would you need to practice a nickname?"
"Well my dear, they expect that within a few years Fire will preceed it."
And that's about when Katara chokes on her tea.
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oliveoilthoughts · 19 days
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Book 2 au with Zuko and Katara Lee and Huamei
Katara is separated from her friends, and so she's left to travel the earth kingdom on her own. She stumbles across Zuko, who is similarly travelling on his own. They decide that pairing up and travelling together would be best
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oliveoilthoughts · 1 month
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His eyes look like memories... I mean - look at the first two pics.
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oliveoilthoughts · 1 month
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favourite straight people trope: cool interesting girl falls in love with the Devil. examples:
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oliveoilthoughts · 1 month
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Introduction to The Iliad, Emily Wilson
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oliveoilthoughts · 1 month
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Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.
We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.
I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.
But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.
Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.
And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.
It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.
It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.
And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.
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oliveoilthoughts · 2 months
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No one:
Tumblr users at 00:00 on March 15th:
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oliveoilthoughts · 2 months
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aaron just collapsing in bed with you after a rough case :(
he gets home late, roughly the early hours of the morning. the heavy, sinking feeling of the mattress is what wakes you, the sound of him kicking off his shoes and landing onto the carpet. and although you're still half asleep, your drowsy mind still processes it's him, that he's finally home, and you can easily sense it was a bad one.
some days, you hold him. you turn your body to face him, drawing him into your embrace, your fingers running through the short hair on the back of his neck. the others, he's wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to him, either burying his face into your neck, or if behind you - right between your shoulder blades. his hand will also find yours and interlock your fingers, his forearm draped over your waist.
for now, there's no talking, he's still in his suit - you'll coax him into his pajamas shortly, sliding the suit jacket off his shoulders yourself, unloosening his tie for him. aaron's gripping onto you as if his life depends on it, and in a way, it does.
but after a while, you ask if he's alright, if he needs to talk about anything, wipe away his tears gently with your thumb if it was that bad. he'll either nod quietly, or mumble a response.
with your presence, and your grounding breaths, aaron finally falls into a fitful, yet calm sleep. he hasn't slept properly since the beginning of that awful case, to be fair. he's just so relieved to be home, so relieved that nightmare of a few days is somewhat over, so relieved to have you, his light at the end of the tunnel, there without fail always. <3
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oliveoilthoughts · 2 months
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full offense but none of you would have ever survived fanfiction.net in 2009
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oliveoilthoughts · 3 months
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18+ Ft Bucky's dirty little mouth because he needs to be held when he cums. You have to hold that baby so so tight. While he whines and moans and throbs till his balls are empty and it takes forever and he's so sensitive the entire time. I cannot get this absolutely unhinged, feral, filthy thought out of my head. He's so fucking touch starved, he needs to be wrapped up with your thighs hugging his waist, feeling your heels push against his ass, your arms around his shoulders and fingers grazing his scalp.
Bucky who can't help but bite onto you shoulder because he's embarrassed with how needy he sounds, muffling his voice, his feet squirming against the sheets, muscles tensed, cock swollen and thick, that pink tip shoved in as far as it would go. It doesn't matter how dominant he is; as soon as he's close he melts into a needy little mess and he can't even help it.
The first time he was with you caught him so off guard, he didn't have a single semblance of control. He fucked you so hard your eyes nearly crossed and the curly hair at the base of his cock was creamy with your slick. You clawed at his back and the sting made him growl with pleasure, his heavy balls growing tighter.
Intense pleasure starts to creep between his thighs, down his spine, warmth blooming making his skin feel hot. His pace starts to grow sloppy and those deep groans start turn into whines.
"You okay baby?" You coo sensing his tensed body and rapid breaths.
"You feel so good" He whispers, moving his arms to wrap around your body, now clinging onto you while his hips rut into your pussy, "So good around my cock, so-fuck-m'so hard"
"Shit-my cock's so wet-s'fucking swollen-there's so much cum, I can feel it" He buries his face into the crook of your neck feeling his cock swell more with each thrust, precum making a sticky, slippery mess between your legs. He holds you tighter and you can feel his ass flex with each push of his hips. He's not longer just moaning, he's whimpering and whining nipping and sucking at your neck like a needy baby.
"It's okay Bucky, you can stop if its too much-" You start but he shakes his head as soon as the words come out- there's no way you're gonna take this away from him when it feels this fucking good.
"No-no-don't wanna, feels good-fuck why does it feel so good, what are you doing to me" He's so gone, giving into the pleasure that's nearly choking his dick, now letting his hips snap against your sopping cunt, squelching and squirting all over the sheets. "Touch me y/n, please baby, need-need to feel you all over, it's-fuck its- too much, touch me"
You sooth his needy pleas, holding him tightly, letting your whole body wrap around him to ground him, your arms and legs squeezing him close. It's exactly what he needs as he hugs you tighter, no longer feeling so out of control and untethered. He can feel your whole body, your warmth and he's so safe. He's almost scared to cum, to feel something so intense, to be so vulnerable but then you kiss his temple and pet his hair and before he can think twice-
"Oh my God-fuck-I-I think I'm gonna-mphh-fuck y/n, m'cumming!" His body stills as cum bursts from his cock in thick ropes, your eyes rolling back feeling his warm spend fill you up.
"You're cumming so much baby" You coo, feeling every ridge, vein and throb of his cock, his back muscles still pulled taut when more waves of pleasure wash over him, continuing to cum.
"I can't stop, fuck-baby it won't stop" He shakes his head, still hiding against your neck, pulling his hips back to slam them inside you hoping he can empty himself but it's so hard when he seems to have an endless supply. He doesn't even know how his body can produce so much. "My balls feel too heavy, God it's so sensitive, its fuckin' squirting out of you"
He slams into you a few times for emphasis, the sheets messy and wet.
"Don't let go, wanna feel you, don' let go"
"M'not gonna let go bubba, cum for me, m'right here" You continue to hold him for minutes on end while his orgasm starts to slow down leaving him drained and exhausted. He falls right asleep, still hiding into your neck long after. He can't help it; the intense feeling makes him feel so shy and overwhelmed, he just wants to crawl into you where he's safest in his most vulnerable state.
After that night, its an unwritten rule that it's what he needs.
Even when it's a quickie. Like when you stroke him in the back of a club in a secluded booth at the club. On a free night out. He could only take so much of your dancing, grinding your ass on him. He yanked you over to a dark corner, sitting all the way in the back, where it just looks like you're seated in his lap. But he has his cock out, letting you pump your hand up and down his length and you can tell he's close by the way his chest rises and falls. He grabs your waist while your free arm wraps around his shoulder as you stroke faster.
It doesn't take long for him to bite his lips, covering your hand in his warm spend and to the rest of the world, you just look like your cozily cuddling up with your boyfriend. No one can see the debauched mess he's making, no one can hear the way he struggles to stop moaning, itching to busy his face into your chest; he'd give anything to latch onto your nipples if you'd let him.
Anyway. You can go about your day now.
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oliveoilthoughts · 4 months
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Pretty Boy
spencer reid x gn!reader
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warnings: (MINORS DNI!) sloppy, filthy male oral a/n: this is more of a drabble (915 words) so there’s no taglist. I was going through clips trying to make an edit and this scene had me thinking, ‘I need to give this man some head.’ Thus, this is the result of my horny mind. Sorry not sorry.
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HE WAS TOO PRETTY TO RESIST. With lips slightly parted, the strong lines of his features softened into a restful state as he savored the way your lips wrapped around him.
Your mouth slid down the length of his cock, tongue running along every inch, and you watched as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, soft stomach heaving with every labored breath.
"Please..." he groaned, the word strained as it left his tongue. The way he whimpered and thrust his hips into your mouth sent a rush of adrenaline through your body. You had him right where you wanted him, on the edge, desperate for release, flushed with sweat beading against his forehead.
And who were you to deny a man in need? You kept your eyes fixed on his face as your nails dug into his thighs, and pushed down even further, the tip of him finally budging into the back of your throat. You tried to swallow him whole, yet you couldn't help but gag a little, rearing back with a cough.
A string of saliva slipped out of your mouth as you looked up at him. He really was pretty. Long, dark lashes framed his eyes as he watched your every movement. A faint stubble adorned his chiseled jawline, creating an intriguing blend of ruggedness and refinement. And his lips, wide and soft, were slacked open as you leaned forward again, the same time his fingers found their way into your hair, grabbing a fistful of it as your tongue licked the underside of his cock.
You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and you felt his hips buck underneath you. You wrapped your fingers around him as you slowly took the head in your mouth, sucking carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.
You twisted your hand around him, because everything was slippery enough to do that, and you started to move your head. It wasn't long until the room was filled with obscene lewd noises followed by his moans of pleasure. His desperate whimper was like music in your ears, and you continued to move along his cock, giving everything he wanted.
With each bob of your head, you took him deeper until the tip hit your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged again. But you continued to take him deeper until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow him fully.
"Oh, god," he moaned. "That—that's it, baby, such a pretty mouth..."
His praise only gave you the urge to take him deeper and all of a sudden your lips were at his base, his cock buried deep inside your mouth further than you ever thought possible.
You slowly gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, pretty and needy. He looked down at you when you stopped moving, utterly still with his cock buried deep inside your throat; your cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lips stretched wide around his girth. Your stare was unrelenting and his grip on your hair tightened.
He was close. You could feel it. You felt it in the way he guided your head, speeding you up faster and faster until he was practically using your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually, you gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked. After all, he looked too pretty for you to stop him.
Your jaw hurt, and your knees burned from being on the floor for too long, but you didn't care. Not when he was looking at you like you were the best gift he had ever received. And maybe you were, because honestly, you would give him everything he asked for. Not only because he deserved it, but because you enjoyed being used for his pleasure as much as he did.
You moaned when he tightened the grip in your hair, the sound sending vibrations over his cock, causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth. You were desperate to try and keep up with his rough pace, his hips snapping into your mouth relentlessly.
You gagged around him again, feeling the burn in the back of your throat, your eyes watering, your lips stretching around his thick shaft, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. He looked down at you, and god, he couldn't hold it any longer.
With sloppy, determined thrusts, he finally erupted in your mouth with a groan. You felt your throat swell with the warm, salty substance as you inhaled through your nose and swallowed it down eagerly. He continued to reach his high and you continued to suck, making sure you swallowed every last drop until he could no longer take it anymore, his body going weak from the overstimulation.
You finally released him with a soft pop when he started to relax. You felt his hand brush over your face gently while you stayed on your knees, right between his thighs. A blissed-out, tired smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you in wonder.
You smiled back at him. A gentle haze lingered in his eyes, his brown orbs seeming a little bit brighter. His tousled hair, touched by his erratic movements because he couldn’t keep still, framed a face illuminated by a serene glow. His features were a beauty beyond the physical, leaving you utterly captivated.
He was so damn pretty, and the best thing was—he was your pretty boy.
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oliveoilthoughts · 4 months
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All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)
Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta
Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)
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She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed. 
“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”
(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare. 
“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk. 
“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out. 
“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”
……
“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman. 
“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils. 
“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days. 
“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).
“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind. 
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope. 
“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps. 
“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”
“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements. 
(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his. 
“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander. 
“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.
She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.
“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them. 
He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.
His toy, his pet, his woman. 
Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness. 
“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.” 
“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.
“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”
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oliveoilthoughts · 4 months
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Anne Carson, from The Glass Essay
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oliveoilthoughts · 4 months
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With the new year approaching, I’m feeling like going back to basics 🤣 I wanna see Loki locked up in the Avengers tower, I wanna see Thor eating pop tarts, I want y/n to be the avenger that unfortunately has to watch Loki and then suddenly they start bonking 🤣🤣
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oliveoilthoughts · 6 months
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Who Did This To You? MASTERLIST
Summary: You'd grown up with the Princes of Asgard. They were your friends. And sure, things weren't always as sweet as pie with the God of Mischief, but you could trust him.
18+ only, MDNI.
I'm a slut for (vaguely) enemies to lovers and the "Who did this to you?" trope, but really, who isn't?
Of course, that means someone did something bad, so here's your warning for attempted sexual assault.
There are two alternative endings to this fic; dark and fluffy.
The dark ending contains dub-con/non-con at the end which you can avoid if you'd like.
The fluffy ending also contains smut, which is also right at the end, so you can avoid it if you'd like.
Read on Ao3
Part 1
Dark Ending
Fluffy Ending
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oliveoilthoughts · 7 months
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Ominis: Do you know the ABCs of first aid? Sebastian: A. Bone. Coming out of the skin is very bad.
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oliveoilthoughts · 8 months
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pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader
warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)
author’s note: things are picking up now xx
masterlist
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and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars
Waking up on a Friday was also the toughest thing to do. At least, it had become an issue ever since Sadie realised that the 5th day of the week usually meant the last one at kindie before she got to spend the next two days at home. In fewer words, the two year old had learned the concept of a regular working week which is a feat considering her father blatantly disregards the sanctity of a Monday to Friday work week in favour of a messier approach. Y/N was almost sure his motto was screw work-life balance; nevertheless, Sadie made it incredibly hard to bathe and dress with all her excitement with what to do over the weekend, specially since Steve was around.
She finished brushing and braiding Sadie's hair, straightening her uniform so she wouldn't get yet another passive aggressive note from the PTA mums complaining about tidy uniforms - as if it was possible to get a 2 year old to be tidy. The two went downstairs with Sadie running to the breakfast table once she saw some donuts laying around which she was sure to only eat the pink icing of and hand Y/N or Bucky the donut itself.
There was something ... off. Bucky was silently buttering a slice of toast and Steve was staring into the further wall which Y/N knew was not that interesting.
- Who died? - Y/N asked as she sat down.
- It's Friday morning, Y/N. Sorry if we're not singing Kumbaya my lord. - Bucky replied, taking a bite of his toast.
- Thank god, you can't hold a tune. - Y/N smirked, helping Sadie place a napkin on her lap. - We're gonna need to get Sadie a new uniform, by the way.
- A new one? - Bucky looked up from his plate. - Swear we bought her that one a few months ago.
- We need to get the winter uniform. She doesn't fit the one from last year and it's starting to get chilly.
- Take the AMEX and buy it today. - Bucky fished through his wallet before handing Y/N the gold card. - Oh, get her one of those lunchbox thingies. I saw some kids with them the other day.
- Hm, now describe such lunchbox thingie, Sergeant.
- What do you mean? The thingies the kids carry along with their lunchbox for soup or water. The round thing.
- A thermos? Why would Sadie need a thermos?
- Yeah Bucky, she's a 2 year old not a college student. - Steve said, handing Sadie a donut. - She doesn't need one.
- Y/N get her one. Get one for yourself too, you eat soup right?
- I have a thermos, thank you.
Sadie, as expected, ate the sprinkles and frosting off the donut and handed the half eaten donut to Y/N. She excused her from the table, kissing the top of her head and sending her on her merry way to wash her hands and get her backpack, leaving Y/N to bring the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Bucky followed behind like a puppy, carrying some leftover pastries and fruit to put in the fridge before they ended up with fruit flies.
- Are you going to Columbia today? - he said, opening the fridge nonchalantly.
- No. I'm going to come back home after dropping Sadie. I have some online meetings booked with some experts in the UK and France about some topics in my PhD and the library didn't have any available private rooms.
- I'll ask Steve to come down with me to the office then.
- That's not necessary. - Y/N loaded the dishwasher with the plates, looking at Bucky, taking a very good look. He didn't look as put together as he usually did. His hair, usually wavy yet gelled into place, was messy and he wasn't wearing his suit yet. - I'll just go to my bedroom.
- You can use my office. - was he trying to get on her good graces once more? - The internet signal is better there.
- It's your office, Sergeant. I'm not gonna use it.
- I absolutely hate it when you call me Sergeant. - he shut the fridge, leaning against it. - Look ...
He sighed, his eyes not meeting hers.
- I'm sorry. - those words came from his lips very slowly, as if it pained to say them and if Bucky were being honest it pained him to say them. Bucky wasn't sorry but that didn't mean he wanted Y/N to hate him forever. - It's not my place to interfere with your relationship.
- I know. - she shrugged. - If you think your opinion of my love life interferes with it in any way, you're wrong.
- I'm just trying to look out for you. There's a lot of wolves in New York.
- I'm not a country bumpkin, Sergeant. I know how to look after myself.
- So ... are you and Chris Davis dating then?
- That it none of your business, Sergeant.
- It actually is. - he smirked. - You see, you are my employee, he is my employee which means if two of my employees are dating they should tell HR.
- You're not HR, you're the CEO.
- Maybe I multitask, how about that?
- That would be illegal and a conflict of interests, Sergeant. Besides, why are you so interested in my relationship? Are you bored of yours?
- He's just not the type of guy I would picture you with.
Of course not. Bucky had always considered Y/N would end up with someone ambitious, someone who'd crawl and give blood, sweat and tears to get what they wanted. Chris Davis, although not a complete dunce, was not that. He was smart but he wasn't innovative - what he was good at was packaging old ideals to newer audiences. He didn't come up with new marketing ideas, nothing that hadn't been done and when he did it was usually under the guide of an executive. He wasn't his worse employee but he also wasn't his best and Bucky wanted Y/N to have the best.
- Clearly. - Y/N dried her hands. - As if you have a good track record of relationships.
- Is this about Anna? Are you still pissed off because of Anna?
- You can't treat people like crap and then expect them to forgive you.
- I know but you have to understand that me and Anna ...
- You are a father first, Sergeant. You can't potentially hurt your child because you're so blinded by this stupid notion of "a real family". You and Sadie are a real family, you don't need Anna and you can't force her. If Sadie was any older she could've gotten very hurt.
- I know but if it had gone well ...
- Bucky. - Y/N interrupted him. She didn't want to be mean, she didn't want to be hateful about a woman she'd never met, specially the woman who birthed Sadie. - If you think the woman who left a baby in front of your door and has never attempted contact would suddenly change your mind, you're naive.
- You wanna know what's funny? - he moved away from the fridge to get closer to her.
Y/N almost took a step back. She didn't like being close to Bucky, it was always weird for her. Bucky, despite being her boss, was an attractive man, an attractive and imposing figure and she sometimes would find herself divided between fear of what he would say and fear of what she usually did at night when she thought of him.
- I don't think anything is funny about that situation.
- Anna would've liked you. - he said before turning around, almost happy that he'd gotten her a bit speechless for a while, happy he got to be the dominant one for a bit. - And you would've liked Anna.
- I doubt I'd like any woman who would willingly sleep with you.
- She didn't like any woman who would willingly sleep with me either. - Y/N rolled her eyes, not really understanding what Bucky was trying to get at. He was always like this, jumped over bad moments looking for some peaceful solitude in an off hand joke or confusing statement. - Are we gonna continue being mad at one another?
- Who said I was mad at you?
- Fine, if you're not mad then take my office upstairs for your meetings.
Before Y/N could reply something regarding his very flawed logic who wouldn't win him any debate, Sadie came walking through the kitchen, dragging her backpack through the floor and her yellow raincoat so Y/N could help her onto the plastic garment.
- Hey squid. - Bucky lowered down to her help, taking over Y/N to help Sadie into her raincoat. - Do you want a thermos?
- What? - she looked at him eyes wide, probably not knowing what a thermos even was. The red head looked at her au pair, looking for clues about what her dad was talking about. Y/N just smiled and shrugged. - Yes.
- See? Told you she wanted a thermos. - Bucky picked her up to kiss her cheek, directing his voice towards Y/N.
- She doesn't know what a thermos is, Bucky. - Y/N took Sadie from him.
(...)
When she returned from dropping Sadie off, buying her an overpriced uniform and a thermos which she would probably only use by the time she was 12, she found an empty house. Bucky had made good on his promise, leaving a note telling her Steve was with him as well as where to find the key to the office. The office was usually locked due to Sadie, according to Bucky, having almost gotten hurt. If Bucky's dramatic retelling was to be believed, when Sadie had started to walk she'd manage to get into the office and grab a stapler which she was keen on using until Bucky caught her. However knowing Bucky and knowing 2 year old Sadie who still struggled to reach the handles of doors, she reckoned he was overreacting or probably saw something similar in one of those "scare the parents" TV shows.
Nevertheless, the office/study had been locked and Y/N had never had been inside, yet once she got inside, it looked like what she expected Bucky to have as a work space. It was white, bright and minimalist with a few knickknacks from when he had been stationed in Italy and some first version novels which had undoubtedly came from his mother. His desk was deep mahogany, neatly kept with all contents at a 90 degree angle.
She moved to seat on his chair, putting her laptop on the middle of her desk and logging into Zoom. She waited for the right time, her eyes hoovering over everything in his desk from the gold pens, to the tape and the photo frames. He had a big photo of Sadie when she was a newborn followed by a few others, yet what called her attention were two gold circled frames - one with a photo of Sadie and Y/N when she had first started to work for them and one of Y/N and Sadie at Christmas.
She didn't allow herself to dwell much on it, she had meetings to get to. Besides, this was nothing big. It was just a photo of his daughter that he liked which Y/N happened to appear in. She had bigger fish to fry now than wondering about Bucky.
(...)
The work day wasn't any better for Bucky. Steve was being, well, Steve and to describe Steve is to describe someone who likes playing both sides to get to a decision which everyone is happy with. He knew he shouldn't have brought up the stuff about his wife, Steve would never try to break a relationship, heck he wouldn't even think it. Nevertheless, now Steve and Y/N were upset at him - maybe they can unionise and start a little "We hate Bucky", maybe they'll get branded thermos.
- Sergeant Barnes? - his assistant knocked on the door. She was pretty, very pretty and Bucky was almost certain they'd slept together ... almost. Yet today not even the pretty assistant could sort his mood out. - Christopher Davis wants to talk to you.
- Christopher Davis? - oh yes, the best way to make his day, seeing Chris Davis. - What does he want?
- He says it'll be a quick word, Sergeant Barnes. Should I send him in?
- 5 minutes. - he sighed, closing his laptop. Maybe making Chris Davis squirm would make his day, yet again, he was sure the "We hate Bucky" club would not enjoy that. Besides, it was hair washing tonight for Sadie and last time he tried, he had ended up inside the bathtub.
Chris Davis walked into the office, the mere sight of him ignoring Bucky. Did Y/N seriously find that attractive? He was so bland, so boring, the only interesting thing about him was that he was rich and Bucky was almost certain he only finished his PhD because his godmother is Professor Anderson. Nevertheless, here he was, taking a seat in one of the chairs of his office without even asking. This is the guy who gets to see Y/N naked? Life really is unfair.
- What do you need Davis?
- I know this will probably be crossing a line but I was wondering if you could let Y/N have the weekend off.
- What Y/N? - he cocked a brow at him.
- My Y/N.
- My daughter's au pair Y/N? - Bucky rested against his chair, looking down at the man in front of him. - Why?
- I was thinking of taking her to the new restaurant downtown but she said she was busy with Sadie. I wouldn't ask but it's really hard to get reservations and I got one and I would love to take her.
Oh, this was fun.
- Y/N has always had the weekends off. She doesn't work weekends unless she wants to, specially not this weekend which I'll spend at home. Besides, she doesn't have a fixed work schedule.
- Oh ...
- Maybe fix your communication issues with her before you come and waste my precious time, Davis. You can go now.
(...)
Having meeting after meeting had really wasted all energy Y/N had and to congratulate herself for not crying when someone suggested another alteration to her project with a thick French accent, she decided to cuddle against one of Bucky's many small yet cuddly cashmere blankets in the couch of the living room watching Gilmore Girls. She was close to snoozing off when the front door opened and closed. It could be Bucky, Steve or a burglar but she was much too tired to actually check.
- Oh, Y/N, do I have some gossip to share with you. - Bucky. It was Bucky and it was the first time she'd heard him say the word gossip. That couldn't be good.
He walked with a douchey smile to stand in front of the TV, sitting on top of the coffee table and staring at her, just waiting for her to question him on it and she was much too tired to avoid playing his game.
- What? Someone you fucked got pregnant?
- Someone came into my office asking about you. I didn't know that you were gonna be busy with Sadie this week. Isn't Steve taking her to Coney Island?
- What?
- You're using me and my kid as an excuse not to go out with Chris Davis? - he chuckled. - What? Is he a bad lay or something?
- Oh shut up!
- Small dick?
- This is highly unprofessional. - she turned around to face the couch.
- And sleeping on my couch isn't? C'mon, tell me, Y/N. Are you tired to pretend to orgasm or have you just figured out he's just bland.
- You're such a child! - she got up, folding the blankets so she could get away from her but he kept going after her. - Why don't you go pick up your daughter?
- Steve has her. I wanna know more, I thought everything was okay in the Y/N-Chris relationship. Is he one of those guys who cries when he cums? Is that it? Is he a crier?
- Why won't you shut up?
- Or maybe he can't find your clit. You know, he can barely find the copy room sometimes and that's way bigger.
- He is perfectly fine, I just don't want to hang out and I didn't want to hurt his feelings but because you can't lie to save your goddamn life I know have to go.
- He's taking you to Le Coucou, you may want to brush your hair before you go. The poor thing fought so hard to get reservations but obviously you prefer to eat buttered noodles with Sadie.
- I have been to Le Coucou.
- I know, I took you there. - he smirked. - And here I was thinking you'd soon start bringing your boyfriend around.
- I don't want to go. I'm tired, I need to wash Sadie's hair tonight and that will take time and I am not in the headspace to get ready.
- I'm sure Chris would love it if you came in with a soaked white t-shirt.
- You're a dick, Bucky.
Before Bucky could continue with his teasing about it, Y/N's phone started ringing. She grabbed it from the counter and put it up to her ear as she saw Sadie's school number. Bucky watched, mostly hoping it was Chris so he could tease her some more but as the colour drained from her face, he realised he wasn't. She put her phone down and looked at Bucky.
- We have to go. - Y/N looked overwhelmed, looking around fo something. - Sadie has appendicitis. They called an ambulance and she's going to the New York-Presbyterian Hospital.
- Shit. - Bucky rushed to grab his keys.
- Where's her toy, where's a toy? - Y/N started throwing pillows around, looking for Sadie's cuddly toy.
- Y/N, let's go.
- NO! - she screamed at him. - She's scared and when she's scared she needs her toy and I knew, I knew she was a bit off when I dropped her off and I should've known better and I ...
- Y/N. - he held her shoulders, stopping her in place. - I'll go find her toy, get the car going and drive there.
- But yo ...
- I'll get a cab. Now you go and stay with her, I'll meet you there with the cuddly toy. Go.
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