#and i get that can be frustrating. but if a show has been ''about shipping'' since the pilot then maybe it's just the genre | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pikp0kcas3 · 2 months

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The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality

Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!

I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.

One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.

Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.

It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.

It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.

When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.

But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.

Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.

But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!

Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?

Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.

Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.

And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.

But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.

#aromantism #aromantic #aroace #asexual #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #lgbtqia #alastor aroace #PLEASE i just want people to LEAVE HIM ALONE #“but it’s a spectrum” STOP USING IT AS AN EXCUSE #RESPECT AROACE PEOPLE WITH ZERO INTEREST IN ROMACE AND SEX #let us have this #we barely get anything as it is #but just to clarify i don’t believe that most people are being intentionally rude about it #nor am i discouraging people from creating fan content because it is FAN CONTENT and you can express yourself #i just would like people to understand a little more that #yes it is a spectrum and it covers an extremely wide range of orientations #yes ANYONE who identities as someone on the spectrum is completely valid #if you wanna argue with that i am showing you the door and kicking your sorry aphobic ass out #my point is that the spectrum is not a loophole. it is not an excuse and it is NOT okay to just use it willy nilly for your convenience

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phefics · 5 months

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veritaserum

ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed.

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins smut #hp fic #ophelia's fics

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worriedvision · 4 months

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He ignores you after an argument - Dr Ratio

Gender neutral reader, angst with an ending that can be viewed as happy. Dr Ratio shows his immaturity, and he only realises how close he is to losing you when Argenti makes an appearance.

"What do you mean, 'can you try to be more considerate'? If you cannot comprehend a genius' words, you are not worthy of my time!" Your boyfriend huffs, turning around to place his mask on.

He always did that when you had arguments, but the words that were paired with his actions were what worried you. You had really stepped in it, trying to tell him that you weren't finished with your sentence. You were getting frustrated that he wouldn't stop interrupting you and, sometimes, filling in the statements incorrectly. You ignored your frustration in the past, but it boiled into this argument you just had with him. You were doubtful that he would think about your feelings even after he calmed down, so you mentally prepared yourself for the silent treatment.

Days became weeks, and weeks became months. He still wasn't talking to you, and you were heartbroken. You dive yourself into your work, the astral express themselves commissioning you because of Dr Ratio's words of praise of your intellect. Swallowing the temptation to explain he was likely exaggerating to help you with getting work, you go along with it. Your boyfriend, despite no longer talking to you after the argument, tags along. You both get separate rooms - something you are thankful for, considering how awkward you felt around your partner. You didn't even know if he was considering himself as your boyfriend or if he mentally checked out since the argument.

Now, Argenti decided to make an appearance. Turns out, he had an issue with his ship, so he had to request some resources from the astral express. You had tried to speak to your boyfriend, who was still playing chess by himself as he ignored your pleads for forgiveness - apologising for failing to communicate effectively. Struggling to keep yourself together, you walk to the other side of the room before taking a seat. Pulling out your folders, you get to work on other projects. Hearing someone walking towards you, you assume they'll just be taking a seat somewhere close, only for them to sit right next to you.

"A beauty as precious as one you possess shall not be under-appreciated by an unrequited love." He begins, Dr Ratio halfway through playing a knight, freezing up at this man hitting on you. "With brains to accompany your radiant and decadent beauty, I shall request that you consider flourishing under someone to cherish you."

Dr Ratio gets up from his seat, his mask literally starting to crack as he begins to storm over to you. He realised, through Argenti's speech, that he ought to treat you better since he truly loves you. He had to show you that he has been thinking of you, about how to apologise - he simply kept his mask on because he thought he didn't deserve to show his face until he thought about how to apologise to you for interrupting you. By the time he knows what to say, his mask breaks entirely, falling to the floor to Pom-Pom's distain.

In the middle of Argenti clearly scouting for you to join him on his ship, Dr Ratio walks behind the couch and wraps his arms around you, side glaring at Argenti.

"Apologies, but this is a prize I won." Dr Ratio growls, Argenti chuckling as he gives Dr Ratio a light warning that you were likely going to get snatched up by another man if he screwed up again.

Your boyfriend comes to take Argenti's place on the couch, pulling you in for a hug, he begins his apology.

"You didn't talk to me for months, you know?" You pout, your boyfriend scolding himself inwardly for being immature.

"You are the one who's more empathetic than myself. I need to put more effort into understanding your feelings, I'm lucky that you're still alright with me hugging you despite the argument." Dr Ratio sighs, squeezing you as he looks over your shoulder to read your work.

"...I almost forgot how amazing and intelligent my partner is." Dr Ratio smirks, you turning your head to look at him. "If I have to wait a year for compensation of my neglect to remain yours, I would gladly do so."

#dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x gender neutral reader #argenti #dr ratio #gender neutral reader #angst

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thegettingbyp2 · 22 days

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Request: Feyd really likes his new wife's hair.

Beautiful

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When you stepped off of the ship the moment you landed in Arrakis, Feyd felt his breath catch in his throat, something he was unused to and tried to disguise as clearing his throat. He thought you were beautiful with your delicate features, wide, innocent eyes, but the thing that caught his attention the most about you was your hair.

Feyd was used to his pets and all of the other Harkonnens, so when he saw your beautiful brown waves cascading down past your shoulders, he was immediately intrigued. He made his way over to you, ignoring your father and the rest of his men beside you and bowed slightly, holding his hand out in a position that easily allowed you to slide your hand into his.

‘My lady, it’s an honour to finally meet you,’ he said clearly, bringing the back of your hand to his lips and brushing his lips across your knuckles gently, smirking to himself slightly when he felt your hand twitch lightly in his grasp. ‘I’ve heard nothing but good things.’

‘A pleasure to meet you too, Na-Baron,’ you replied, your voice soft and kind despite the nerves that were currently running through your body. You’d known that this day was coming for years, you’d been promised to Feyd-Rautha since you were thirteen and, now that you were of age, you were to move in with him and get to know him before your impending wedding.

Once all of the introductions were out of the way, your parents left with the Baron, giving you and Feyd some time. He started by showing you around the place you were now to call home before you both reached the final door.

‘What’s behind this door?’ you asked, having a pretty good idea but being too nervous to properly ask.

‘This is our room,’ Feyd replied, watching your face intently for your reaction and, as much as he liked your hair, in this moment, he hated it. Hated the way you could pull it across your shoulder to hide your face. Without thinking, he reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear, trailing his fingers gently across your cheek. ‘Your bags are already inside.’

You nodded gently before smiling softly at him before he opened the door. Leading you inside, you were surprise to find that Feyd had thought ahead and had added some decorations that you knew didn’t belong to him along with a dressing table with a large mirror sitting opposite the bed. ‘It’s lovely,’ you said, looking over at him, ‘thank you.’

Not knowing how to reply, Feyd nodded at you and stepped forward. You’d noticed all day that his eyes seemed to constantly trail to your hair and this time was no different. His hand came up and, just before he got close enough, he abruptly stilled his hand, moving his eyes to look into yours before speaking. ‘May I?’

‘Yes,’ you replied, your voice coming out in barely a whisper. All of a sudden, you felt his fingers weave through your hair, a look of fascination on his face. Hesitantly, he reached out with his other hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you slightly closer as he moved his face until he was inches away from yours. ‘You like my hair?’ you asked, not knowing how to react with him so close, his scent filling your senses, making you fight to keep your eyes open.

‘It’s beautiful,’ he replied simply, tearing his eyes away from your hair to look into your eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat. ‘No one else here has hair like yours, I love it, but I hate it too.’

‘You hate it?’ you asked, furrowing your brows slightly in confusion.

‘I hate how you can use it to hide yourself, like it’s a shield you can put up. I want to know everything about you and it’s…frustrating when you hide behind your hair. I’m not used to feeling like that,’ he confessed.

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your lips, turning your body until you were face to face with him. ‘I can always wear my hair up?’ you suggested, failing to hide the smile in your voice as you spoke.

Feyd let out a laugh, a sound that you weren’t expecting to hear from him, nodding as he closed the last bit of space between you both, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he looked at you. ‘I’d like that very much.’

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha imagine #dune part two #austin butler

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fabulouslygaybean · 2 years

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GOD. ALSO IM FRUSTRATED ABOUT THE WHOLE SUBTEXT-BUT-NOT-SUBTEXT THING THEY'VE GOT GOING ON WITH WILL AND MIKE.

#dont rb #no like. look. i don't rlly hardcore ship anything anymore. im super casual abt it and i just do whatever i think is fun at that moment.#but like... what they've got going on with the two of them is frustrating at best.#im definitely not against like.. the dynamic i guess? it makes enough sense. a boy is in love with his presumably Very Straight childhood -#- best friend who also has a girlfriend. he doesn't know what to do but in the end he just doesn't wanna lose his best friend.#ive been there. that's not the problem.#my main complaint is just that like. they can't seem to decide what they wanna do with that whole thing.#they act like its Super Secret Subtext and that its just up for interpretation when it's really truly not.#the scene where he's talking about all the things el must love about him? its SO damn clear that he's talking about his own feelings too #he made a whole damn painting with mike as a focus. he's spilling out his heart in a way that hopefully won't be noticed.#mike doesn't of course because he's a presumably very straight teenager and he's too busy thinking about his gf to notice #mike feels reassured and goes back to focusing on other things while will ends up hiding his face from him and crying #jonathan notices and has a very knowing expression before he goes back to focusing on the road #even if you ignore the super mega obvious scene it's prevalent throughout the whole season #will wants to support his now adopted sister el and her boyfriend mike and he tries to keep it friendly but its difficult #mike ignores him for most of the summer bc he's your standard straight boy teen and is uber obsessed with his gf #he never calls and he ignores will when he asks if he can show him a painting he did and he ignores his worries and advice #its so damn obvious. will is trying to keep up a friendship bc he knows he'll probably never get to be with him but he still cares about -#- him dearly bc they've always been friends and at the very least he doesn't wanna lose that #ive been there!! ive been in that scenario so many damn times!! that's a common queer experience!!!#but the showrunners are always like. Oh But It's All Up For Interpretation ;) Will Is Just A Good Buddy To His Friendly Friend ;)))#also to clarify: i know what the actor himself has said about all of it. im not gonna go after the insta post he made when he was like 12.#he himself has talked about it not mattering in more recent stuff too and that's fine. i rlly have no qualms with him over this.#im mostly just frustrated with like.. the duffer brothers and maybe some of the writers. y'know?#it's just poorly executed. ignoring the elephant in the room ain't a good look. it's not the end of the world but it ain't great either.

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f1byjessie · 3 months

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part five.

You’ve never actually been to Monaco. It was one of the few Grand Prix you’d had to miss. Logan’s retelling of how it was had been slightly skewed by disappointment and frustration at his less-than-stellar results that weekend, but his descriptions of everything had still painted a picture of lavishness and excitement in your mind, and you’d been dreaming ever since for the chance to experience it yourself.

You’re here now, and even just the view from the plane had lived up to the hype. On the ground, it’s enough to leave you breathless. The deep blue water of the Riviera glitters with the golden glow of the afternoon sun, the mountains stand tall off in the distance, and the grand opulence of the city makes you feel like you’ve stepped foot into a whole new world.

You’re not unfamiliar with the lifestyle of riches and luxury, but Monaco is on another level entirely.

Lando, the reason you’re here in the first place, appears beside you. On the ride back to his place from the airport, he’d caught you marveling at the marina and had pulled off onto the side of the road to let you get out and take a longer look. The boats look like miniature cruise ships, sleek and elegant where they rest in the water, swaying gently with waves. It reminds you, vaguely, of back home.

“Ready to go?” He asks, fiddling with his keys.

You spare the marina one last glance, then nod and turn on your foot with the knowledge that you’ll be here for a week longer still and will have plenty of time later to take in the view as much as you want.

Lando’s house, when you arrive, is just as expensive looking as the rest of Monte Carlo.

The exterior is expertly landscaped and maintained, with hedges perfectly trimmed and flowers flawlessly pruned. It’s slightly lacking in regards to the personality you imagined Lando having. His car is personalized and his wardrobe is a look into who he is, but the outside of his house looks… normal, for lack of a better term. It’s beautiful, nonetheless, but it’s simple all the same.

When he opens the door, you take it all back. The interior screams Lando Norris. It’s extravagant in a way that mirrors what you know of his personality, but it’s comfortable. You’ve been to homes that look more like show houses, where the furniture seemingly exists to be viewed but not used, and all the decorations are vague and impersonal enough to fill blank space and do little else. This is the opposite.

There’s a blanket folded haphazardly over the arm of the couch, and mismatched pillows. On the coffee table is a half-empty bottle of water, a book with a scrap piece of paper hanging out from the middle, and an opened pack of batteries. There are pictures on the walls in mismatched frames— friends and family and achievements from throughout Lando’s career that tell a story of his successes and proudest moments.

It looks like a real home. When you tell him, he laughs.

“With how little time I actually get to spend here, you’d think it’d be the opposite,” he comments.

He helps you bring your bags up to a guest room and then gives you a tour of the rest of the house. Letting you ask questions and answering them sincerely.

When you’re back in your room, unpacking your clothes, it occurs to you just how crazy all of this is. You know Lando, but you haven’t known him for very long. Your friendship has only developed over comments on social media, texts, and the occasional phone call over a few weeks. But you’re here, across the ocean in a country you’ve never been to before, spending a week in his house just because he asked you here and offered to help you with your love life dilemma.

Your life is beginning to feel more and more like a movie, and all you can do is hope it has a happy ending.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 31,871 others

yourusername a pretty girl with a pretty car in a pretty city

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logansargeant think you might need to get your eyes checked bc all i see is a pretty car sooo

↳ yourusername you have six days. run. hide. i don’t care. but enjoy your time while it lasts

↳ logansargeant i’m telling mom

↳ yourusername she can’t save you now.

user STUNNING STUNNING AND STUNNING 😍😍😍

user all three things i don’t have

user WE NEVER GOT Y/N IN MONACO DURING THE SEASON BUT I AM LIVING FOR IT NOW

landonorris *prettiest

↳ yourusername you’re only saying that cuz it’s your car

↳ user yea we definitely missed smth cuz wTF IS THIS 👀

user lando up in here stealing oscar’s girl

user OSCAR COME GET YOUR GIRL

user is she in monaco??? with lando??? 👀👀

user mclaren boys fighting over the same chick was not on my bingo card

user i need these men to make up their damn minds like bffr first oscar and now lando??? bros get it together pls 😮‍💨😮‍💨

user i think we should stop speculating about the relationships between real ppl bc they’re adults and can do what they want, plus they could just be friends and ppl saying they’re together could make things awkward for them

↳ user nah they’re totally together

“The comments are going crazy,” you tell Lando, staring down at your phone and scrolling the long chain of comments beneath your most recent post.

Some are supportive— people who knew you before your brother got involved with Formula 1 and don’t care about the drama, or they’re other models you’ve become tentative acquaintances with after years of working in the industry. Some are speculative, wanting to know if you’re with Lando, what happened between you and Oscar, theorizing about fights, messy breakups, and revenge rebounds. Some, however, are just mean, calling you a slut for leading on two guys at the same time, or a bitch for ruining their imaginary chances with their favorite driver.

You wouldn’t claim that you’re used to this type of negative attention, but you’re not unused to it either. So much of your job requires a social media presence and with your life in the limelight as a byproduct of both Logan and Dalton’s own very successful careers, you’re no stranger to internet trolls and people who are vicious just because they can be.

That doesn’t make some of the comments hurt any less.

“None of them matter,” Lando answers from beside you, his eyes focused on the road. “It’s just people who don’t know what they’re talking about.” He recites it like it’s something he’s had to say hundreds of times before, and it occurs to you that he probably has, to himself if not anyone else in his line of work.

You’re sat once again in the passenger seat of his car as he drives you back to his place. The streets of Monte Carlo at night are dazzling and even more beautiful than in the day with twinkling lights and a raging nightlife scene, but you’re distracted still by your phone, checking and rechecking to see if there’s any hint of Oscar in your notifications.

There isn’t.

It feels like a dismal ending to what had truly been such a lovely night.

You’re in a gorgeous dress, in a gorgeous car, in a gorgeous city, with a man who’s fun and relaxing to be around, who doesn’t make you feel like a side piece or arm candy, and who is genuinely a friend to you. You went to an amazing restaurant and ate some of the best food in your life with some of the best company, got slightly tipsy off of wine you didn’t have to pretend to enjoy for once, and it’s only the beginning of your time here in Monaco.

But rather than enjoy what you have here in the present, all you can think about is the one thing that would make it that much better— Oscar.

“Maybe I should just give up,” you mutter, finally turning your eyes away from the screen. “He probably kissed me, realized he wasn’t interested, and the reason he hasn’t brought it up is because it was all just a big mistake that he wants to forget.”

Lando makes a sound that you’re not quite sober enough to place. “I think the only way you could know that is if you talked to him.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “that’s not likely to happen any time soon.”

He makes another sound, but you’re too disappointed to really pay it much mind, and by the time he’s pulling into the garage you’ve forgotten all about it.

He helps you out, ever the gentleman as you’ve learned tonight, and then you’re following him to the door, trying not to let your bad mood ruin things too much. You’re still incredibly grateful and appreciative to him for helping you so much despite not having known you very well when it all began.

“Seriously, though, Lando.” You speak up suddenly, just as he’s about to open the door. “Thank you for doing all this for me. Even if nothing comes of it, I’ve already had a lot of fun and you’re a good friend.”

All he does is offer you a smile over his shoulder, before pushing the door open.

When you step in through the doorway after him, you’re momentarily confused by the luggage waiting in the entryway. For a split second, you think you must have left some of yours down here, but then you look a bit closer and realize that it definitely isn’t yours.

There's movement from your peripherals as someone in the living room stands from the couch and crosses the distance to the entryway's threshold.

“You’re back earlier than I thought, Lando—” you snap your head up in surprise just as the voice cuts off.

You stare at him in shock. “Oscar…”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal

━━ a/n: tada! i have the rest of this fic entirely planned out from here and i am so excited to get to the juicy parts finally! hope you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris

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bloatedandalone04 · 4 months

Text

Dating Anakin Skywalker would include;

Warnings: jealousy, descriptions of smut, smut, fluff, angst, kinks, swearing, more badly written headcanons

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

➪First things first; this man is jealous 99% of the time, let’s be real here.

➪Your relationship is forbidden, so Anakin isn’t able to show you off in all the ways he wants to.

➪All he’s allowed to do is train with you and sometimes is able to get away with pulling your back against his chest as he guides your saber down in a quick slash, but that is really it.

➪It’s nowhere near enough for him, but he puts up with it since he still gets to end most of his days with you in your secret shared room.

➪With that being said, even though he is a very jealous person, he is also very sweet.

➪When he wants to be.

➪But only with you.

➪You are the only person who gets to see his soft side.

➪You train together often since it’s really the only time you get to interact outside of your room, and he shamelessly admitted once that seeing you like that turns him on a lot.

➪Since you are a Jedi yourself, you and Anakin get to go on missions together and protect one another since you don’t really trust anyone else to do it.

➪It also allows for you to be around each other 24/7 without any suspicion being drawn to you.

➪And it usually allows Anakin to be all over you in the privacy of his ship/and or a separate room from the one at the temple.

➪Now....everyone says that he is a massive sub..not me.

➪I don’t buy it.

➪While he’s not a full blown dom (at least not until he turns to the dark side and then later becomes Vader), he’s also not a whiney sub who is just there for you to use.

➪He, of course, cares more about your pleasure than his own, but he also doesn’t act like he’s only a fucktoy for you.

➪Let’s be real, he is a lover, and therefore makes love to you in all the ways that leave you flustered and red in the face.

➪Now, that’s not to say he doesn’t have his full on dom moments.

➪When he gets super jealous, he’ll take you by the hand - and usually doesn’t care who sees, which is something he has to spend time later explaining - and take you back to his room to have his way with you.

➪He’ll say things like, “What were you doing with him, baby? Hm?” or “You think he can make you feel as good as I can? Does he really think that you’d let him?” while he’s railing you into an early grave.

➪With one hand gripping the headboard and the other covering your mouth so you’re not overheard, he is just completely letting out his jealousy and frustration of not being able to show you off like he wants to.

➪That being said, he’s not very quiet himself.

➪He usually has a swollen bottom lip by the time you’re both spent since he had to bite down on it hard to keep himself at least somewhat quiet.

➪His kinks are simple; marking, hair pulling and, you guessed it, choking.

➪He’s very careful with the way marks you, scattering love bites along your shoulders that are always covered by your robes, or on your inner thighs.

➪You’ve been with him for a long time, and saw the departure of his beloved braid, and when he decided to grow out his hair...oh boy.

➪His head had never been more sore.

➪You pull on it every time he takes you to bed, tugging the curls between your fingers with each thrust of his hips.

➪The headache he’d have afterwards was so worth it since he had been a bit nervous that you’d hate the new way he had begun styling his hair, and he was happy he couldn’t have been more wrong.

➪Choking....that should explain itself.

➪But the man loves wrapping his metal fingers gently around your throat, not nearly with enough pressure to block your airways but enough for you to feel it.

➪When he began to turn to the dark side, he definitely applied a bit more pressure, but still not enough to hurt you.

➪After all, you are the reason he lives and breathes, and he would never dream of causing you any type of harm.

➪His names for you are; sweet girl, angel, star and the occasional baby - but he usually saves that one for the bedroom.

➪You two eventually get married in the most lowkey wedding in the history of lowkey weddings, and exchange lightsabers as a way of showing your love.

➪Afterwards he took you away from Coruscant on a special mission - which was really just a fancy name for your honeymoon.

➪While it didn’t last long, Anakin did manage to get you pregnant, and that came with many problems.

➪Hiding it was a challenge, and hiding your son after giving birth was even harder, but you managed to do it for a while until you were able to get your own place in the city, where you and Anakin were able to raise him in peace and privacy.

➪Pick an AU; Anakin never turns to the dark side and gets to experience what it’s like to be a dad, or he does and you give up your son in order to protect him (and to keep him safe from his Sith father).

➪Either way, his love for you never falters and lives on through the memories you share together, whether or not he remains the loyal Jedi he was always meant to be.

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writingficsanddaydreams · 7 months

Text

Worried Thoughts

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.

Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.

Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.

A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!

—————

He’s frustrated with you.

He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.

But he’s still frustrated with you.

You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.

It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.

Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.

It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.

But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.

You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.

You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.

To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.

He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.

It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.

That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.

The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.

So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him?

You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.

But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.

“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”

His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.

“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”

Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.

Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.

“You act afraid.”

You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.

When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.

“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.

“An astute observation.”

“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”

“I see. That is reasonable.”

It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.

You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”

When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.

“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”

The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.

“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.

His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him.

“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.

“That would be pleasant.”

And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.

When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.

#Mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #Help im so in love with this character #autistic!reader #proofreading I don’t know you

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cozage · 1 year

Note

you wanna do continue the one you did where the s/o gets captured? Get them rescuuuued. please and thank you :D

A/N: I actually have two of these requests in my inbox, and these got really long because I’m insane and have to write every detail, so I’m going to break these up into three different posts so people aren’t stuck reading and scrolling through a 10k fic on tumblr. Ace and Law’s will be coming soon!

Characters: female reader x Luffy

Cw: angst, drugging, near-death experience

Total word count: 2.3k

Summary: You've been captured by marines, and the Strawhats work to get you back. (Followup from this request)

Rescued by Pirates - Luffy

Luffy stood at the top of the cliff, staring down the Marine fleet in the bay. There were ten ships, and you were on one of them. Captured. Alone. He knew you were fighting, but there’s only so much you could do in a locked prison cell with sea prism cuffs.

“I’m coming.” Luffy muttered, hoping the wind would carry his words to you. “Wait for me. Don’t stop fighting.”

“Luffy, get down!” Nami pulled the captain back over the ridge, keeping him out of sight from the scouts. “If a Marine sees you this whole stealth operation is over!”

Luffy groaned and slumped to the ground. “I don’t even know why this has to be a stealth operation! If we just start smashing everything-”

“They’ll kill her.” Sanji said, and Luffy grew quiet. “If they know we’re coming, they’ll execute her now and report it to the news coo after.”

“They probably have people waiting outside her cell to do it as soon as the call is made,” Franky admitted coldly. “They don’t want another repeat of…” he trails off, and everyone knows what he’s going to say.

They don’t want another repeat of Ace. Luffy embarrassed the entire World Government when he broke into Impel Down, broke out of Impel Down, and then sailed to Marineford and freed Ace from his shackles.

“It’s possible that’s why they’re still here.” Nami’s voice was worried as she spoke everyone’s thoughts. “They’re baiting us so they can kill her. They don’t want to transport her just to have Luffy embarrass them again.”

“It would make sense why they haven’t taken off yet,” Brook added.

“Or they’re waiting for backup,” Sanji countered. “She’s a dangerous pirate, but the Navy always prefers public executions. Especially with the new leader having a personal vendetta against Luffy, he’ll want to kill her publicly if possible. I’m sure of it.”

“Then we have to go!” Luffy started to stand to his feet, frustrated with the lack of action, but Nami quickly pulled him back down.

“Let Robin and Brook handle this first part! We have to find her first before you start smashing everything to bits!”

Luffy hated waiting. Especially when there's nothing he could do to pass the time. But finally, after about 30 minutes of silence, Robin opened her eyes.

“She’s on the fourth ship in the back with the red and yellow tailwind sail. Under deck, in a prison cell. Shackles on her arms and legs, and a neck collar.”

Luffy’s eyes peeked over the cliffside to find the ship Robin was describing. He located it, and sprang forward to jump over the cliff, but strong arms held him back.

“Zoro, let me go! We know where she is!” He struggled to break free from the swordsman's grasp. “We have to go get her!”

“Hang on Luffy, we need a plan before we just jump into action!”

The guard change comes early today, which you find odd. Normally the Marines are dragging their feet to stand guard over your cell, but then you spot green hair poking out from the marine cap, the man next to him with a very familiar scar across his cheek, and your heart begins to beat faster.

“So, the keys?” Zoro holds his hand out to the Navy officer watching over you, who laughs in his face.

“This must be your first time imprisoning a pirate, kid,” the old man says. “We don’t keep the keys anywhere near the prison. You know how easy it would be for someone to knock out a guard and take them? Let me show you the ropes, kid.”

The old man and his colleague turn to face you for the first time in hours, ushering Zoro and Luffy to look at you now. You can see Luffy is in visible pain just from looking at you.

Your arms and legs were each shackled to the wall, and you had a contraption around your neck that looked strikingly similar to the ones the Celestial Dragons used on their slaves. Blood caked your hair and trickled down your face. Your body was littered in scratches and bruises, your clothes torn from whatever battle had happened that Luffy wasn’t there for.

“Each one of those shackles has a different key, and that neck collar too, as well as the key to the jail cell itself. Each of those keys are on a different ship, and we’ve got instructions to throw the keys into the harbor if we catch a glimpse of a Strawhat approaching the ship.

“The best part, though,” he continues, with a hungry malice in his eyes. He raises his hand to point a finger at your neck. “That collar has a fun little detonator. The Vice Admiral has the control button if it comes to that. And the collar itself administers a sedative every hour on the hour, and gives another dose if someone touches the bars.”

He smacked the bars for good measure, and you flinched as you felt a pinch in your neck.

“Honestly it’s a miracle she’s still awake. We like to hit the bars every now and then just to keep her calm. Don’t want her causing a scene now, do we?”

You were trying your hardest not to stare at Luffy. You can see the rage consuming his body as he realizes what an insurmountable task it is to save you. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head viciously to relay a simple message. Run. Don’t save me.

But you know he won’t listen. He never has. Not with Robin or Ace or Sanji or anyone else he’s saved against their will. And he certainly won’t do it with you either.

“I see a pretty big flaw in this whole design,” Zoro said, staring at the cell you were in. You could see he was enraged as well, but he was hiding it better than Luffy.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that, kid?”

“Can’t they just cut it?”

The old Marine let out a hardy laugh at his question. “Sea prism stone is the hardest substance in the world. Nobody can cut through that, I don't care if it’s Dracule Mihawk himself!”

“Oh, Mihawk can cut Sea Prism Stone.” The green-haired man gave a devilish smirk to the Marine.

You braced yourself. You knew what was coming. Zoro only had two swords with him, but it would be enough.

You heard a whirlwind of air swirl around you, and you could feel the weight on your arms get lighter. There were several pinches in your neck, and you could feel yourself involuntarily slip into unconsciousness.

Zoro had put just a bit too much power into his swings to free you, and the cuts ripped through the ship behind you. He then turned to the marines, wickedly smiling at them.

“Told ya.” He smacked the younger one with the hilt of the sword and the marine crumpled to the ground, but the older marine was fast and dodged Zoro’s attack. The Marine locked Zoro into a battle of swords, occupying his ability to get the other chains off of you.

Luffy sprang into action, running to grab you. He screamed your name as he ran to you, jumping over sea prism stone rubble and other debris to reach you. He knew Zoro hadn’t hurt you, but you were slumped against the ship wall, and he couldn’t help but think about how fragile you looked. He shook you, desperately trying to wake you up.

And then Luffy heard a beeping sound, coming from the collar around your neck. The same sound that he was helpless against in Sabaody. “ZORO!” He screamed, holding you tight.

“Forgot to mention,” the older marine grinned back at the swordsman, keeping him locked in a battle. “Tamper with the chains too much and the collar will detonate, even without a push from the button.”

Zoro tightened his muscles in horror. “Luffy, get it off of her!”

“I hear she’s the weakness of Strawhat Luffy. Let’s watch and see, shall we? Perhaps he’ll have an even worse reaction than in Marineford.” The marine's gaze was on Luffy now, eager to see him snap.

Luffy ignored the weight of what failure meant for you. He focused, letting his Haki flow through his body like he had seen Rayleigh do in Sabaody. He grabbed the collar from around your neck and squeezed, snapping it in half, and threw it away from you. In the same motion, Luffy turned and glared at the Marine, who instantly crumpled to the ground, knocked out by Luffy’s Conqueror's Haki.

“Luffy, we have to go,” Zoro’s voice was urgent. There was commotion above them coming from the deck. It was clear the Navy was alerted to their presence. But Luffy was ignoring him, desperately trying to shake you awake.

“Come on, Luffy,” Zoro insisted, stepping over the rubble. He quickly cut each of the shackles off your legs. “She’ll be fine. I’ll carry her, you punch things. Let's go.”

Zoro put a sword between his teeth and picked you up into his arms. He saw the darkness in Luffy’s eyes, and stood back to let his captain destroy the people who had tried to take you away from him.

Luffy spared no ship. Once he saw Zoro and you were safe on the beach, he unleashed his full might against the ten ships in the harbor. His crew could hear his screams of rage from the shoreline, his pent up fear of losing you spilling out into his attacks.

When he was finally finished destroying the ships, he came back to the shore and sat silently among his crew. He pulled your unconscious body into his lap, stroking your hair softly. He stared down at you for a long time, just watching the rise and fall of your chest, his eyesight fuzzy from tears.

As the sun was starting to sink over the horizon, Nami finally spoke up. “We should go.” Her voice was hoarse, and her cheeks were damp with tears.

“Not until she wakes up.”

Sanji sighed, pulling out a few small rations of food to give the crew while they waited. Luffy didn’t eat, he just combed his fingers through your hair, willing you to wake up.

Nightfall came, and you were still unconscious. The crew could see lights on the horizon. Marine ships that were supposed to lead you to Impel Down.

“Luffy, we need to go,” Sanji insisted. Luffy refused to respond, his eyes only watching you.

“She’ll be more comfortable on the ship, Luffy,” Chopper said, trying to coax the captain back to the Sunny. “She can sleep in a bed and we can monitor her more closely.”

“It’s better for her to be back on the ship,” Sanji agreed. “And we need to get moving.”

Luffy finally nodded, giving in to his crew's request. If it was better for you, then he wouldn’t be selfish. It was selfishness that got you in this position in the first place. If he hadn’t run off on his own, if he had just stayed with the group like Nami had told him too, this might’ve never happened.

He held you close to him and walked back to the ship with the rest of the crew, not speaking. When they got back to the ship, Luffy set you down in the infirmary and stood in the corner, letting Chopper take care of you.

“Let me know if anything changes in her status.” And with that, Chopper left the two of you alone in the infirmary. Luffy sat in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand and watching you sleep, waiting for you to come back to him.

Before you open your eyes, you can hear the heart rate monitor beeping; you can feel the harsh light against the back of your eyelids. Beside you, you can hear soft, even breathing of someone who is sleeping. Luffy. You’d know the sound of his breathing anywhere. You feel relief wash over you, knowing you’re safe with your crew.

The light is still too bright for your eyes, so your hand reaches out blindly, searching for Luffy. Your hand finds his head, and you pat him gently. You don’t intend to wake him, but he instantly stirs from his sleep.

“Y/n?” His voice is groggy as his head lifts up.

“Hi,” you whisper, your eyes still closed. “Can you turn off the-”

His body crashes into you, cutting off your question, and you wrap your arms around him in an embrace. You can hear his broken sobs of relief fill the air. “I was so scared,” he sobbed into your shoulder. “You weren’t waking up.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you say soothingly, trying to calm him down. You crack your eyes open a bit, trying to adjust to the light in the room. “Thanks to you, captain.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #✧˚law✧˚

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fuckmyskywalker · 7 months

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"Frustration!" — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, smut. Hate sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus. | Word count: 1.2k!

— Taglist! | List of films!

“Anakin, fucking let go of me!” The leather of his glove digs into your skin, as he drags you harshly into the cockpit.

He locks the door behind him, not even bothering to give you the reason why he’s so upset about… well, something. Only Anakin knows what’s going on inside his mind— although, sometimes you wonder if he even knows what’s going on. You try to stay calm, but your heart is racing. Anakin's face is contorted into something unreadable and his eyes are wide. He turns away from you, seemingly out of anger or fear— or both.

“Do you like him?” He asks out of the blue, increasing your confused state. He crosses his arms over his chest as he waits for your answer.

With no clue what he is talking about, you stare at him rather annoyed. The lack of answer makes him scoff, he thinks you’re playing dumb. Anakin thinks everyone should know what he is thinking about and to some extent, it’s frustrating. The lack of communication on his part when it comes to literally any ambit is potentially a red flag— but who would dare to question the Chosen One?

Anakin knows he can be as cocky as he wants. He is demanding and irritating— his ego is as big as Yavin Prime, if not bigger. But, you always find a way to put a stop to him, and that frustrates him even more. He hates that you are the only person who can say “no” to him, not even Obi-Wan can stop him when he has his mind set on something. Plus, it doesn’t help at all that he’s been fucking with you for a while now.

“I asked you a question, fucking answer it,” Anakin’s tone is beyond demanding. With what right is he talking to you as if you were one of his soldiers?

You finally talk, “Anakin, I have no clue who are you talking about.”

“Don’t play stupid, I saw you. You were flirting with Senator Cadaman,” his body language is aggressive, something you are more than accustomed to.

«Oh Maker, he is jealous,» you think. That was unexpected.

“Anakin,” taking a step closer, you mirror his position, crossing your arms as well. In an ideal situation, you would calm him down, and let him know that nothing is going on between you and Cadaman… but this will never be the ideal situation— not when Anakin Skywalker is involved. “I wasn’t flirting with him. It’s called being polite, is it suddenly my fault you mistake simple manners with flirting, just because no one is nice to you?”

Perhaps you were being harsh on him, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with Anakin’s jealousy— not now, not never. Boundaries were never set to start with; it’s not formal, it’s not a relationship.

It’s just sex.

“People are nice to me.”

“Only because they are afraid of you.”

“No, it is because they respect me!” His voice raises. Deep down he knows that maybe, just maybe, you're right— but Anakin would rather die than admit when he’s wrong.

“Get out of your damn bubble, Anakin. It has nothing to do with respect; when people respect you they admire you,” closing the distance between your bodies, you raise your hand, digging your index finger into his chest. “People fear what may happen to them if they don’t agree with you, or follow your orders, or deny you something.”

His flesh hand grabs your own, yanking you towards him and pressing you against his chest. His gloved hand reaches for your jaw, forcing you to raise your head to look at him— it hurts. He is being rough. He is mad.

“Fear?” He looks down at you with lust and sentiment, barely covered by a thin veil of disgust. Only you can say no to him. Only you have the courage to treat him as an equal— and that makes his dick so, so hard. “I’ll fucking show you what fear is.”

You fight against him, but it’s pretty much pointless. Anakin spins you and presses your chest over the ship panel, the different buttons and levers painfully digging into your skin. He struggles to take your pants off but in the end, he manages to yank them below your knees— adding a hint of humiliation to the situation. His gloved hand slaps your ass harshly, causing you to moan.

“Do you want to be a bitch and talk back?” He says after another slap. “Do you want to act like a slut?”

“Anakin!” You wail. He smiles, this is how he wants you. This is where he thinks you belong.

“Do you want me to stop?” Another slap. The dynamic between you two has always been the same, fighting, arguing, and calling each other names… until you grew up enough to blow the steam off in more… carnal ways. “Tell me to fucking stop, and I will.”

But you don’t. You find yourself unable to speak.

You hate how he breaks your will, you hate how you only find pleasure in his rough treatment, and you especially hate feeding his ego.

“See? I know you. I know the real you,” his voice is pure spite, despite the lewd undertones. “I know you are nothing more than a slut, you enjoy the attention.”

The skin of your ass is burning, and it hurts, but the words that could make him stop his assault never leave your lips. You feel powerless, like you are nothing more than a toy that he can play with at his leisure. You hate the feeling of not being in control of your own body, and you curse yourself for not being able to break free from his grip. Is that same power play that keeps you tied to him— and what keeps Anakin always coming back to you?

“See how fucking wet you are?”

He is disgusting. You despise him— but you push your hips towards his face when he kneels right behind you to plunge his tongue inside your pussy. He laps at you without shame, as if he doesn’t even know the definition of it. Anakin eats you out relentlessly, groaning at the taste.

“I fucking hate you and your perfect fucking cunt,” he spits right on you, mixing your arousal with his saliva. The act makes you squirm, stretching your arm behind you and yanking his messy hair bringing back his face to where you need him the most.

“Shut up, shut the fuck up,” you breathe, closing your eyes. “W–Why can’t you just be quiet for five damn minutes!”

Anakin moans against your core, closing his eyes and fucking you with his tongue until your knees go weak. Sneaking his hand in between your legs he rubs tight, quick circles over your clit which triggers your orgasm— perhaps faster than on any other occasion. Biting your lower lip, refusing to let his name escape from the deepest corners of your mind, you close your eyes to focus on the lewd noises of the man behind you— practically slurping everything you have to offer.

In an instant, he is standing next to you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and crashing his lips against yours. Smearing the wetness all over his mouth over your face, the kiss is messy, borderline savage— and you love it.

“I wasn’t flirting with him,” you whisper.

“I know.”

— 🐚 if you wish you be added to my taglist there's a google forms in the beginning of the post! There you can select which days you would like to be tagged in (or choose the option: all the above!). If you send me a DM or an ask I will tag you on every day! | some tags might not work due to your settings, so let me know!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 kinktober 2023!#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin x reader smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n

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stardust-kenobi · 1 year

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A Good Night's Rest

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Din was your best friend, but you wanted him to be so much more. Turns out he feels the same way.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: SMUT, drinking, helmetless din, virgin!reader, SOFT MANDO <3

A/N: we will all collectively just pretend there’s a little guest room in the razorcrest, otherwise everyone’s fuckin on the cold floor ok and we cannot allow it.

“Dammit” You cursed at the dreaded transmitter that was probably older than you were.

Being a mechanic had its perks, but it truly had its challenges, too. Especially when you’d been assigned long-term work on a ship as old as the Razor Crest. Of course, a perk to that would be traveling with a Mandalorian. It was a rough couple of months getting him just to hold a conversation with you, but almost a year later, you'd never been more connected or closer to anyone else in your whole life. He was undoubtedly your best friend.

“Don’t worry about it. That thing has never worked right” Din said, startling you as he entered the cockpit. He was dismissive of the transmitter, which was all the more reason you wanted to fix it.

Sighing out in frustration, you accepted defeat. For now, anyways.

“I’ll get it figured out eventually” You assured him.

“If you say so" He chuckled softly.

"Are you doubting my capabilities?" You teased him.

"No, I am doubting the probability of that thing ever working again"

"That's fair" You smirked before looking back to your unfinished work.

"How are the engines looking? Are we good to go?" He asked.

"Yep. Everything else is looking good. Are we leaving tonight?"

"I'd like to get a good night's rest first. We can leave in the morning" He confirmed, leaning against the metal siding of the cockpit.

"Sounds good to me" You smiled back softly, subtly admiring his stance beside you.

"I'll probably go to bed soon" Din said, his sleeplessness showing itself in his voice.

A fun idea crept into your mind.

"Why waste such a perfect night to break this baby in?" You giggled as you pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet in the cockpit.

"How did you get that?" He said with a head tilt, questioning where and when you had the opportunity to acquire alcohol.

You raised your brows and shrugged your shoulders, "I stole it"

"Well, I assumed that" Din iterated, taking the bottle into his hand and observing the label, "but I am not surprised"

You watched as he looked around, as if trying to find some reason why he shouldn't indulge in some light drinking with his best friend tonight.

"I'll just be drinking all by myself, if you're not joining me" You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Fine” He gave in, sitting himself down in the pilot’s seat next to you in the copilot’s seat.

For a little while, you two indulged in the intoxicating effects of the liquor. You knew your limits and so did he. You stopped just before feeling your inhibitions slip away but felt fuzzy enough inside to enjoy the feeling.

Respectfully, you opted to look away whenever he took a sip, so as to not catch a glimpse of even his chin as he tipped the liquor into his mouth. His movements were slow as he set his glass down, and with your peripheral vision, you noted that he was done. With all the time you’d spent around him, you couldn’t actually imagine him actually having a face, he was just a helmet with a gentle voice. But you loved him.

Oh stars, you loved him…

The chances of him feeling the same were slim, but one more sip and you might just tell him.

As you stared at him, you were met with flashbacks of one particular night not too long ago. Din had accidentally walked in on you masturbating, and you didn’t notice he was there until a couple of seconds had passed. He couldn’t make himself look away from you in such a state, but the guilt of unintentionally invading your privacy ate at him every day since. Since that night, things had been a little bit awkward between you two

Not a single word was exchanged between you two, he just slowly walked out. You probably didn’t come out of your room for another day, and even now, you still hadn’t talked about it.

What he didn’t know it was him you were thinking about while you pleasured yourself.

“This stuff is…” You began, holding the bottle out and tilting your gaze at it.

“Strong?” Din finished your sentence.

“Very” you giggled in response.

Din stared at you for what felt like forever, the tension pulling tighter between your gazes. There was something so odd about the way his head pointed in your general direction just gave you butterflies. You wished so desperately to look into his eyes for real.

“I, um” He began, tripping on his own words before his thoughts were fully developed.

“What is it?” You tilted your head.

He paused, and looked at the ground, before turning back to you.

“I need to sleep” He sighed.

“Okay. It just seemed like you were going to say something?”

Please let him say that he loves you too.

“I don’t think I’ve drank enough to say it”

“Maybe I have” You pondered. It spilled off your tongue like honey, “I'm in love with you"

Okay where the fuck did that confidence come from?

He was still. More still than usual, if that were even possible. The thumping of your heart against the restraints of your chest rang terribly loud in your ears. If he’d said anything in the seconds that followed, you wouldn’t have even heard it. Any attempt to read his emotions was blocked by the shining reflection of his visor.

But he was silent, and you could only guess why…he didn’t feel the same way about you.

“I’m..” He tried to begin, but fell short of his words.

“Don’t” You began as mortification consumed you, “don’t say anything”

He remained stoic, and painfully quiet. Providing no goodbye or goodnight, you got up and made your way to your quarters on the Crest. Din didn’t stop you. He didn’t flinch, in fact, he barely breathed.

The frigid metal against your arms shot chills down your spine as you leaned against the door you had just closed behind you to your room.

The distant sounds of his footsteps carrying across the ship, led right to your door very shortly after you stormed off.

"Y/N" His soft, modulated voice rang the other side of the door, following a gentle knock.

What do you even say to him now that you've confessed something so bold to someone you're in such close proximity to all the time?

You slowly pulled the door open and were met with Din’s towering figure.

"I'm in love with you, too" He admitted quickly.

Now you found that it was you whose words were failing them. A choked breath hitched in your throat as you processed what he said.

"Y-you do?" You stuttered in disbelief.

"Yes. I did not know what to say before. I wasn't expecting you to say that" He said softly, his tone growing timid.

You stepped back and let him enter your crowded quarters, which truly was only enough space for your small bed and a cabinet. The forced proximity to him heightened the tension even further. You sat on the edge of your bed, and he mirrored you, finding only inches of space next to you.

"I want to kiss you" You blurted softly.

"I want to kiss you too, Y/N. I'm sorry I can't" He responded, cautiously placing his hand on your knee.

"I know what you can do" You suggested.

Your trembling fingers wrapped around the gloved material of his hand and guided it in between your legs. There was no resistance from either of you, but you sensed his nerves as well as your own.

The shifting of your hips told him you wanted him to move. He rubbed against your aching and sensitive bud through the rough of your pants. You wanted him bare against your skin, but you knew this needed to be slow.

Too shy to just let him watch the look of pleasure upon your face, you buried your head into his shoulder while he rubbed your clit. He groaned as you let a faint whimper escape you…a sound he’d only dreamed of hearing before.

"Are you sure?" He begged for reassurance.

"Are you?" You countered him.

“Yes” He assured with no hesitation, like he’d been waiting for you for years.

“I’ve never done this before” You muttered lowly, ashamed to admit it, but knowing it was necessary for him to be aware that you were a virgin.

“Ever?” He leaned back.

You shook your head in confirmation.

Din froze in his tracks, halting his rhythmic motions at your core. You worried he wouldn’t want to be your first. You worried it would be too much pressure for him to make it special for you.

He pulled away completely.

Something you’d never seen him do before caught your immediate attention. Slowly, his fingers curled underneath the bottom edge of his helmet and lifted it from his head. He didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Din what are y-”

You couldn’t even remember to breathe as his face came to view. His brown hair lay so perfectly pressed to his head, restricted for so long by the constraints of his mask. He wasn't a stranger. This wasn't unfamiliar. It was him.

And he was beautiful.

His creed meant nothing to him in that moment…the moment he finally was able to stare into your eyes for real. Nothing mattered to him except you. A lump grew quickly in your throat, and you welcomed it as a tear fell from your eye.

"You deserve for this to be special, Y/N. You deserve to look into the eyes of the man who loves you"

The rapid fire of your beating heart skipped over itself. His voice was smooth and raw...and scared. His entire life has been spent hiding away from everyone he has ever cared about behind that helmet. But now...he truly sees you.

"Din" You breathed.

The second that his lips brushed against yours, the world around you fell silent. Fingertips trailed along your jaw before moving to wrap themselves in your hair. Din was delicate and careful. He worried he'd break you if he didn't control his desire that had pent itself up for months of being near you.

You were tremendously overwhelmed with surprise and butterflies, which fueled your hunger for him as he found familiarity in your lips, and pressed harder into the kiss. His trembling hand returned in between your legs, applying pressure against your clit through your pants.

Din was no stranger to sex, but he was a stranger to your body, and a stranger to loving you in the way he was always aching to.

“I’m going to take care of you, Y/N” Din whispered against your lips.

He motioned for you to lie back, and guided you with his arm pressed gently into the curve of your back. You fiddled with the clasp of your pants, but his hand replaced your own and successfully unfastened it. You worked to remove them, but Din helped you peel them down your legs.

Nothing could have pulled your admirable gaze away from him. There were no words to describe how beautiful he was. Din hovered above you, staring right back in disbelief of having you beneath him like this. Your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, your palm finally resting against the scruff of his cheek. His eyes fell shut, being so touch-starved that he melted in your grasp.

Din knew that he wanted to stay like this forever, but he also knew how badly he needed to be inside you. As he stood to his feet and removed his armor, revealing the soft material beneath it that clung to his skin, your thighs clenched together in anticipation. With his continued help, he carefully lifted your shirt above your head, revealing you wore nothing beneath it. The guttural moan that grazed your ear when he saw your breasts sent a wave of heat between your legs.

His finger looped around the hem of your panties and awaited your confirmation before eagerly removing them.

You were nervous. Stars you were so nervous. Somehow you found comfort in studying his face, watching his reaction to seeing your exposed body on display for him.

Your lips intertwined again. The supple caress of his hand traveling up your thigh sent chills down your spine. It only took one light touch against your folds for him to feel how bad you wanted him. Suddenly you felt one finger slide inside of you.

He broke away from devouring your lips, “Is this okay?”

“Yes” You breathed.

What he did with his fingers felt beyond anything you’d ever done to yourself. He curled his finger as he pumped it in and out of you, savoring the sound of your slickness wrapped around his digits. You grinded against his hand, signaling him to move faster.

Din watched you, enamored with your expression and how you melted for him just by the touch of his hand. Stars began forming in your eyes as the haze of your orgasm crept up slowly. Din felt the walls of your cunt tightening slightly as he went faster.

“It feels so good, Din, please don’t stop”

And he didn’t stop. Stars, he’d do anything you asked of him. Especially now.

With the arching of your back, Din knew you’d reached your release. You cried out for him, digging your nails into the skin of his neck, shutting your eyes tight, overwhelmed with pure pleasure.

“Look at me, cyar’ika” He instructed. Your eyes flew up to stare deep into his beautiful brown eyes.

Your release overtook your entire body, sending a heated flash of vibration across your skin, tingling and centering at the thrusts of his fingers.

“There you go sweetheart, you’re doing so good” He praised.

You rode out your high as he talked you through it. Unable to fathom the total ecstasy you were feeling. Your breathing was heavy as you floated back down, and you then realized how tightly your hands were gripping his body. As you flashed him a smile, he softly smiled back, his eyes scanning your body and face.

As you reached for his pants, he hurriedly removed his shirt followed by his pants, now leaving him completely bare for you too. You stared at his cock, impressed by his size, and clenched your cunt around nothing as your body begged for him.

You spread your legs for him, as his hips situated themselves to fit perfectly between them.

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to” he assured you, “I don’t want to hurt you”. Just then, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, before he finally buried himself completely inside of you. A whimper of slight discomfort escaped you, and Din planted a soft kiss upon your open mouth to soothe you. You were so tightly wrapped around him that he almost lost it immediately. It was such a wonderful new feeling to experience being this close to Din.

Your body adjusted itself quicker than you anticipated to his size. He began to thrust slowly, still giving you time to relax. A lustful whimper fell from your lips, showing Din that you were experiencing pleasure rather than pain now. Once his thrusts found perfect and steady rhythm inside you, he began to moan softly with you.

Your eyes meet and lock on each other while he continues to curl his hips passionately into yours.

“Does that feel good, Y/N?” He moaned and kissed your neck gently.

“Yes, Din” You managed to mumble through your new feeling of pleasure.

The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, and your skin burned with such a wonderful fire. You were sure that you’d never get enough of his lips against yours.

“You are so beautiful, cyar’ika” He whispered, his hand traveling down between your breasts, familiarizing himself with the feeling of your skin against his. Taking one of your breasts into his hand, he squeezed it gently.

“Harder” You begged him. He looked at you with uncertainty, but wouldn’t dare deny you.

He began fucking you faster, now. As his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot inside you with every snap of his hips, your moans grew louder and more intense. Din loved every sound you made. He was quieter than you, but his whimpering was music to your ears.

“Y/N, I won’t last much longer” He faltered in his thrusts as he got close to his release.

You nodded and pulled his face into yours, kissing him hard. Your lips against his pushed him over the edge. His fist gripped the sheets as he came, his moans deeper and louder than before.

“Fuck, Y/N” He cried out.

The warmth of his release coated your walls, and you cherished the feeling of truly being filled by him. All of him.

The room was filled with only the sound of your beating hearts and the gradual rate of your breathing coming down to normal. Din was careful when he removed himself from you, and the second he did, you already missed feeling him so close. He lay next to you, your warm bodies still pressed close to each other. The silence between you spoke louder than any words you could manage to speak.

“Are you okay?” He asked while caressing your cheek.

You smiled warmly at him. There was a soreness you felt inside, but it was a sensation you welcomed if it meant that Din was the one to take your virginity.

“I’m more than okay” You assured him, “that was everything I ever hoped it would be”

“I love you, Y/N” He said sweetly, warming your soul as he said it.

“I love you, too”

———————

Taglist: @lokigirlszendaya

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cantsayidont · 4 months

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When attempting to critique the values of a long-running franchise like STAR TREK, it's important to draw a distinction between superficial issues and structural ones.

"Superficial" in this sense doesn't mean "minor" or "unimportant"; it simply means that an issue is not so intrinsic to the premise that the franchise would collapse (or would be radically different) were it changed or removed. For example, misogyny has been a pervasive problem across many generations of STAR TREK media, which have often been characterized by a particular type of leering-creep sexism that was distasteful at the time and has not improved with age. However, sexism and misogyny are not structural elements of the TREK premise; one can do a STAR TREK story where the female characters have agency and even pants without it becoming something fundamentally different from other TREK iterations (even TOS, although there are certainly specific TOS episodes that would collapse if you excised the sexism).

By contrast, the colonialism and imperialism are structural elements — STAR TREK is explicitly about colonizing "the final frontier" and about defending the borders, however defined, of an interstellar colonial power. Different iterations of STAR TREK may approach that premise in slightly different ways, emphasizing or deemphasizing certain specific aspects of it, but that is literally and specifically what the franchise is about. Moreover, because STAR TREK has always been heavily focused on Starfleet and has tended to shy away from depicting life outside of that regimented environment, there are definite limits to how far the series is able to depart from the basic narrative structure of TOS and TNG (a captain and crew on a Starfleet ship) without collapsing in on itself, as PICARD ended up demonstrating rather painfully.

This means that some of the things baked into the formula of STAR TREK are obviously in conflict with the franchise's self-image of progressive utopianism, but cannot really be removed or significantly altered, even if the writers were inclined to try (which they generally are not).

What I find intensely frustrating about most modern STAR TREK media, including TNG and its various successors, is not that it can't magically break its own formula, but that writer and fan attachment to the idea of TREK as the epitome of progressive science fiction has become a more and more intractable barrier to any kind of meaningful self-critique. It's a problem that's become increasingly acute with the recent batch of live-action shows, which routinely depict the Federation or Starfleet doing awful things (like the recent SNW storyline about Una being prosecuted for being a genetically engineered person in violation of Federation law) and then insist, often in the same breath, that it's a progressive utopia, best of all possible worlds.

This is one area where TOS (and to some extent the TOS cast movies) has a significant advantage over its successors. TOS professes to be a better world than ours, but it doesn't claim to be a perfect world (and indeed is very suspicious of any kind of purported utopia). The value TOS most consistently emphasizes is striving: working to be better, and making constructive choices. Although this can sometimes get very sticky and uncomfortable in its own right (for instance, Kirk often rails against what he sees as "stagnant" cultures), it doesn't presuppose the moral infallibility of the Federation, of Starfleet, or of the characters themselves. There's room for them to be wrong, so long as they're still willing to learn and grow.

The newer shows are less and less willing to allow for that, and, even more troublingly, sometimes take pains to undermine their predecessors' attempts along those lines. One appalling recent example is SNW's treatment of the Gorn, which presents the Gorn as intrinsically evil (and quite horrifying) in a way they're not in "Arena," the TOS episode where they were first introduced. The whole point of "Arena" is that while Kirk responds to the Gorn with outrage and anger, he eventually concedes that he may be wrong: There's a good chance that the Gorn are really the injured party, responding to what they reasonably see as an alien invasion, and while that may be an arguable point, sorting it out further should be the purview of diplomats rather than warships. By contrast, SNW presents the Gorn as so irredeemably awful as to make Kirk's (chronologically later) epiphany at best misguided: The SNW Gorn are brutal conquerors who lay eggs in their captives (a gruesome rape metaphor, and in presentation obviously inspired by ALIENS) when they aren't killing each other for sport, and even Gorn newborns are monsters to be feared. Not a lot of nuance there, and no space at all for the kind of detente found in TOS episodes like "The Devil in the Dark."

#teevee #star trek #star trek tos #star trek the next generation #star trek picard #strange new worlds #i find strange new worlds largely unwatchable #and this is a major reason why #along with their determination to no-homo spock

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merrybloomwrites · 2 months

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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 6)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry is full of surprises including a package shipped to Y/N's home, shows cancelled due to the flu, and an unexpected visit.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

Word Count: 4.8k

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

There’s over five weeks between when you arrive home from Chigaco and when you finally have your doctor's appointment scheduled. The first week, you feel totally fine. Spending a full weekend with Harry, dropping in his presence, and being scented by him has completely taken care of your touch deprivation symptoms. Temporarily.

By week two the dizziness starts to creep up again. Then the itching, followed by the chills. No matter what you do, you just cannot seem to get warm. Towards the end of the third week, it’s starting to become unbearable. You’re constantly exhausted and shaky and just so cold.

Even though you have been talking to Harry almost every day, you haven’t told him how bad the depri has been getting. Part of you still hasn’t gotten over your pride. It’s difficult to admit that you need help just due to your biology. The other part of you doesn’t want to worry him. You know how busy he is and the last thing you want to do is add another stressor.

Even without you saying anything, the alpha seems to sense that you’re struggling. Just as it’s getting really bad a package arrives at your door. It’s a huge box and when you open it you find it filled with a number of smaller, sealed bags.

There’s a note on top, handwritten by Harry, that reads:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other. I know you still haven’t been able to get new soothers yet and I was worried your touch deprivation symptoms might be bothering you again. I remember you saying that nesting doesn’t help much without other scents present.

I’ve scented a number of materials for you. Sarah has as well, in case it’s better to have a variety. The bags will trap the scent in, which is why I’ve separated the materials into a few different bags. You can open each as you need more, and they’ll hold on to our scents longer.

I know nesting is very private for omegas, so don’t feel like you need to report back if it worked or not, though I’m always here to listen if you’d like to talk about it.

Sincerely Yours,

Harry

It’s late-afternoon and you’ve already finished your work for the day, so you start looking at the labels on the bags. There are blankets, shirts, sweatshirts, hats, scarves, stuffed animals. Anything you could want to make a perfect nest.

Suddenly you’re hit with an overwhelming desire to build a nest, something you’ve never felt before. There’s a section of your room between the bed and the wall that will be the perfect spot. It’s cozy, tucked away from the rest of the apartment, and the large windows let it sunlight for most of the day.

The first thing you do is vacuum the carpet, needing it to be perfectly clean in order to begin the project. Next, you grab the old twin mattress out of your basement storage space, grateful that you hadn’t thrown it away when upgrading to a queen-sized bed. It fits perfectly in the spot you’ve chosen, and you take out your own spare comforters and blankets for the base. Since they’ll be covered in scented objects you figure you’ll save the scented blankets for another time.

After the base is made you get stuck. You’ve never successfully nested before, and you’re unsure where to begin.

It’s a frustrating feeling. You’re an omega, nesting should be second nature to you.

Before you can spiral too deep, you call Harry who immediately answers with a “Hi there, love. How are you?”

Just hearing his voice is enough to calm you and stop the spiral.

“Hi,” you reply. “I’m good. I got the package you sent. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. I hope it helps.”

“I uhm, I’m trying to build a nest.”

“That’s wonderful!” He sincerely replies.

“Emphasis on trying,” you say. He’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to explain further. “I’ve got the base, but I’m stuck now. I have no clue where to put everything else. And I feel like a lousy omega because I should just know how to do it, right?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. First of all, you could never be a lousy omega. But there might be a bit of a disconnect between you and your inner omega. You’ve been on suppressants for years, basically since you presented. Your instincts will come. You just need to be patient with yourself.”

You take in every word he says and a weight lifts off your shoulders.

“How do you always know what you say?” You ask with a laugh.

He laughs with you for a moment before his chuckles turn into coughs.

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yea, I’m good, just a little tickle or something,” he answers, voice slightly raspier than usual. “Listen, I have to go get ready for the show soon. I ordered you some food, it should get to your apartment in a little while. Take a break, relax, eat some dinner, and try again. Don’t overthink it, just start and see where it takes you, alright?”

“Okay. Break a leg tonight,” you reply.

“Thank you darling. Talk to you soon,” he says as he ends the call.

You take a quick shower while waiting for the food to arrive. This isn't the first time Harry’s sent you a meal. It’s his way of taking care of you even from across the country. The doorbell rings and you’re not surprised to see that he ordered your favorite Italian dish, reminding you how much he truly listens, and somehow seems to know what you’re craving before you do.

You do as he says and relax during dinner, watching an episode of your favorite comfort show. After you’re finished you decide to try again. You put on Harry's first album and grab one of the bags from the box. The note says it has two shirts, a sweater, and a scarf, all with Harry scent. You open it and his scent surrounds you. The task at hand no longer seems daunting, but rather exciting.

Over the next hour you construct a perfect nest, at least in your opinion. You’ve used materials from two bags of Harry’s and one of Sarah’s, as well as scenting a few materials of your own. The combination of smells is wonderful, absolutely soothing to your omega.

Possibly your favorite thing Harry sent is a new stuffed bunny, referencing the fact that you’ve compared him to a bunny rabbit on multiple occasions.

You’re cuddled in the best, new bunny in your arms, and you pull up your phone. It’s later than you thought, and Harry’s show will be starting soon. Lately you haven’t been able to watch many of his concerts due to the time change. But you decide to stay up late tonight and start a little bit later than usual tomorrow, fully taking advantage of the freedom you have for your job.

Everything starts normally but you notice a change in Harry’s demeanor about halfway through. His voice starts getting raspier, he’s turning his head to cough and clear his throat more often than usual, and he generally just seems a bit off.

That coughing earlier was definitely not just a simple little tickle.

You give him thirty minutes after the show ends to get home and shower before you FaceTime him. He answers immediately and says, “What are you still doing awake?” His voice sounds even worse than before.

“I was watching your show,” you answer.

“So you saw how shit I was?”

This is what you were afraid of. This is why you stayed up even later to talk to him. Because you knew he’d be beating himself up even though he’d obviously pushed through pain to give the very best concert he could.

“Harry, no, you absolutely were not shit. I won’t lie, you sounded a little croaky when you spoke, but the songs sounded perfect. You still put on an excellent show. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m upset for starters. But physically I kind of feel like garbage. My throat burns, my body’s aching, and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to rest, Harry. Give yourself time to get better.”

“I know that you’re right, but it’s hard. There’s always something that needs to be done,” he says with a sad, small voice that nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s not healthy to push yourself too hard. You need a break or it’s only going to get worse.” Your voice is laced with concern, as you practically plead with him to take care of himself. You’ve gotten to know him well over the past few weeks and you’re fully aware of his tendency to overwork himself, and his habit of putting everything before himself and his health. He’s explained that it’s a holdover from his early experience in the music industry and how hard management pushed him and the other boys when they first started. Since then, it’s been hard to change his mentality on the issue.

He nods without saying anything, and you take it as a win; albeit a small one. At least he’s willing to agree that he needs to take it easy. You can only hope that he actually will.

“Where are you?” he suddenly asks. “I don’t recognize your background.”

You smile and blush before replying, “I’m in my nest.”

“You are? It worked? How to do feel?” There’s a definite change in his attitude now, excitement rather than despair.

“It worked. Thank you again for the materials and the help earlier. I feel,” you pause for a moment to think before saying, “content. And safe.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Truly just made me feel better knowing I could help you in some way.”

“I wish I could do the same for you.”

“You do. You help me. By calling, and talking me down from a spiral. And looking so cozy in your lovely nest.” Your cheeks warm again at the alpha complimenting the nest you worked so hard on. You feel proud to have made something that he approves of, especially with no prior experience. Suddenly thoughts of nests you can make for the two of you, maybe one day pups as well, force their way into your mind.

“I’m glad I could make you feel better,” is all you say in reply.

Your eyes meet for a moment, just simply taking each other in, before Harry finally says, “It’s pretty late here, and I know it is way past your bedtime. Get some sleep darling.”

“I will. Please, take it easy tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, love,” he replies with a soft smile.

“Good night Harry.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You roll over, nose facing the wall of the nest, where Harry’s scent is strongest and you’re able to pick up on a hint of Sarah’s as well. Even though you’re worried about Harry, your surroundings have you calm enough to quickly fall asleep.

The next few days are difficult. Harry gets diagnosed with the flu and seems to just be getting sicker. He does everything he can to get better, but unfortunately ends up needing to postpone three shows while he continues to rest and get back to performance shape.

He’s upset and frustrated about the situation, and you spend much of those days texting and talking on Facetime to reassure him that no one is mad at him. While you agree that they might be a bit disappointed, you remind him that his true fans care about him and wouldn’t want him to push himself too far.

One week of rest does him a world of good. It’s obvious at his next show, exactly seven days later, that he has made a full recovery. You stay up again to watch the very beginning of the concert and fall into a peaceful sleep knowing that Harry is back in full health and back to doing what he loves.

Another week after that Harry’s finished his US residencies and it’s finally time for your doctor’s appointment.

As much as you’ve been looking forward to being seen and having your problem fixed, you’re incredibly nervous going in. You hadn’t been able to speak to Harry that morning as he was traveling and you’re more anxious than you expected to be.

Your doctor is a lovely beta woman who doesn’t bat an eye when you lay your sweatshirt next to you on the bed during the exam. You’d pulled it out of one of the bags that morning specifically to have Harry’s scent with you, and since you had to change into a patient gown this is the next best option. It works in keeping you calm as she goes through the rather invasive checkup.

After the physical exam is over she leaves so you can change before discussing what she found. Once you’re dressed the nurse leads you to her office and you sit across from her at the desk.

“First of all,” she begins. “I want to assure you that you’re perfectly healthy.” You breathe a sigh of relief at that, not even realizing that you’d been at least a little concerned that something was wrong.

“It seems we were right in assuming that you’ve developed a tolerance to your medication regimen. You were on a fairly high dosage so unfortunately it won’t be as simple as switching to different meds. You’d likely start having these same problems within just a year or possibly a couple of months.”

You listen closely, hanging on to every word even though you’re worried about where this is headed.

“What I would like to have you do,” she continues, “Is go completely off the medications for six months. This will allow your body to basically reset. I won’t lie, it will be tough for a while, especially if you don’t have an alpha, but it will ensure that the meds will be completely effective for years to come once you start back up.”

“I’ve never been unmedicated before,” you quickly say, trying to communicate how unsure you feel about what she is saying.

“Why don’t I tell you what you can expect during this time?” She asks and you nod, wanting as much information as possible.

“If you don’t have an alpha, then you’ll likely experience touch deprivation. It may be a little worse than what you’ve reported feeling recently, but I promise it will not be debilitating. It takes over a year for those symptoms to become severe. Nesting with objects that have been scented by an alpha will help with that. There are a couple of programs that can provide you with those materials if needed. I can give you the contact information.”

“No, thank you. I have a couple of alphas who have given me things. I’m sure they’ll be able to re-scent them for me if I ask,” you reply.

“Okay, wonderful. I’m glad you have some trusted alphas to help you. I urge you to accept help from them during this. It will make everything much easier for you and your inner omega. Now I know you like to hide your scent in public, which I completely understand given the way people tend to treat omegas. While you can’t take the oral scent blockers, the spray on kind is fine in moderation. I don’t recommend constant use though. And of course, being scented by an alpha is not only approved, but recommended.”

You smile slightly at this, thinking Harry would probably be happy with an excuse to scent you whenever possible.

“The last thing we need to discuss is heats. I have here that you’ve only experience two partial heats, correct?”

“Yes. My presentation heat, which lasted about a day, and then a two day heat a few months later before we landed on the right suppressant dosage.”

“Okay, you should experience two heats while off the medications. The first will be in about three months and will be similar to that last one you had. Shouldn’t last more than forty-eight hours and won’t be too intense. The second one should occur three months after that. This will be your first true heat and will last anywhere from four to seven days. It will also be more intense. I’ll give you some literature to read up on and some good sources to do research so that you can be prepared. After that second heat we’ll begin working out your new medicine regimen. Do you have any questions?”

Yea, you think to yourself, I have about a million questions. But no complete thoughts actually form in your brain, so you just reply, “No, I think I got everything.”

“Well, if anything does come up please reach out. I recommend email unless it’s something urgent since I have some time each day to sit and give a detailed reply, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Since you’ve already taken your meds today I’ll list tomorrow as the first day without them. You may start to feel a bit different within the next week.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you say as you both stand. She walks you out of the office and you part ways as she says, “Take care.”

You sit in your car for a moment as your mind spins with all the information you just received. When you finally feel focused enough to drive you wonder where to go next. You’d blocked the day off for this, knowing you probably would be too distracted to work at all after the appointment.

For a minute you debate stopping for a coffee on the way home. Getting a little treat after something unpleasant is like, a core part of girlhood.

But when you pull out of the parking lot you immediately start driving home. Because you know what you need right now, and it’s not a mocha latte.

Walking through your front door you quickly change into comfy clothes and curl up in your nest. This is exactly what your omega needs after the stressful morning. Nothing can beat being surrounded by the alpha’s wonderful scent.

Well, nothing except actually being with the alpha.

But that’s currently impossible. He’s traveling, probably almost in Mexico by now.

Right?

He’s going to Mexico. That’s what you keep telling yourself. It’s what you say when there’s a surprise knock on the door. It’s what you repeat when you open the door and see none other than Harry Styles standing in your apartment hallway.

He’s going to Mexico. Except he’s very much standing in front of you, flowers in one hand, a tray of drinks in the other, and a small suitcase next to him.

“Hi,” he says sweetly, dimples making an appearance as he smiles at you.

“Hi,” you answer just as quietly, still in disbelief of what you’re seeing.

You step back, silently inviting him in. He places the drinks and flowers on the table in your entryway so he can roll his suitcase in, shutting the door behind him.

The two of you stand there for a moment just taking each other in. Slowly, Harry leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls back just an inch and there’s a moment of tension between you.

The moment doesn’t last long. You don’t know who moves first, but your lips quickly crash together in a kiss more heated than any you’ve shared before. His hands grip your waist, and you bite back a whine at the feeling of how big they are on your body. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one resting on the back of his neck while the other slides through his hair.

You begin to walk backwards into the living room, never breaking contact. Harry sits on your couch, and you follow to straddle him, kneeling over him so your legs bracket either side of his. The kiss gets more intense, and this time you can’t hide the noise of pleasure when his tongue just barely passes between your lips.

After a few minutes of what is by far the best make out of your life, his hands move to your thighs. They slide up further and you become overwhelmed, pulling back from the kiss in response.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t question what happened or if you’re okay. He knows why you stopped. He can read that you’ve gone as far as you’re comfortable with at this point. He smiles, presses one more chaste kiss to your lips, and then readjusts you so you’re sitting next to him, legs resting over his lap. He pulls you in, so you’re tucked against his side, and you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close together.

“So, how did the appointment go today?” he finally asks.

Before you can answer your stomach starts to growl loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“Hold that thought,” he says, “let’s get some lunch first huh?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I can make some for us,” you say, and immediately head to the kitchen.

Harry uses the restroom while you prepare some sandwiches and fruit salad. It gives you a moment to process everything that happened that morning. You also think about how you’ll answer Harry’s last question. You decide to tell him the truth, tell him everything. He’s proved how deeply he cares about you, and honestly at this point you can’t imagine keeping anything from him.

So over lunch, you explain everything your doctor said. You tell him about the touch deprivation, and he reassures you that he’ll make sure you always have freshly scented materials to wear and put in your nest. You even tell him about the upcoming heats, though not without blushing the whole time.

“Is there anything I can do to help with that? Would you want me to be with you through it?” You’re endeared by the fact that his blush matches yours now.

You think about his offer for a moment and reply, “I don’t think so. At least not the first one. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. And, uhm,” you pause for a moment before admitting something. You’re scared to tell him, but you’ve already talked about enough embarrassing things today with him and your doctor, so one more can’t hurt. “I’ve never been knotted before. And though I want to someday, I want it to be right. And I want it to be when I’ll remember it, not while I’m under the haze of a heat. When we’ll both remember it.” You’re nervous at the end, including him the way you did, like you’re assuming he wants that too.

“I completely understand. There will be a time when we’re ready. And it will be perfect,” you share another shy smile, reassured that he included himself without any hesitation. He wants this, and he wants this with you. He sees a future to your relationship, just like you do.

“Now,” he continues, “when it comes to helping with the touch deprivation and you requiring scenting, I think we should choose some dates when we can be together. It’s not healthy for you if we’re apart for long periods of time. And honestly, I don’t want to go months without seeing you.”

“Me neither,” you reply.

“Do you want to pull out our calendars now, or forget about all this for the afternoon and just spend the day together and make some plans over the phone after I leave tomorrow?”

“Make plans later. Definitely. I want to enjoy the day with you.”

And so, the two of you have a lazy afternoon in. It had started to rain while you ate lunch, which gives you the perfect excuse to turn on the fireplace and lounge in the living room. You watch movies, play some games, and get lost listening to each other tell stories. Harry orders in dinner, Thai this time, and you each take your own showers before getting ready for bed.

Harry hasn’t been in your room yet, and you hesitate before opening the door to let you both in. He’s seen your nest over Facetime, but this is different, and suddenly you’re hit with the overwhelming need for him to approve of it. You don’t know what you’ll do if the alpha doesn’t like it.

Of course, your fear is for nothing. Because the second you bring Harry to the side of your bed and show him what you made, he immediately showers you in compliments. He tells you how perfect it is, how cozy it looks.

“Would you like to lay in it with me? I know it’s kind of small, so I understand if-” he cuts you off before you can complete your sentence and says, “I would be honored to be in your nest with you.”

He looks to you for guidance, needing to know exactly where you want him. He knows how important nests are to omegas, and the last thing he wants is to mess it up in any way. You instruct him where to lay down and he does so without pause. He holds his arms out and you quickly go to him.

It’s no surprise when you begin to purr. Wrapped in his arms, in your nest, surrounded by his scent, you think you may have entered heaven.

No one speaks for a while, and you start to think maybe Harry’s fallen asleep. That is until you hear him clear his throat. You look to him, knowing he wants to say something, and he takes a deep breath.

“I have a question for you. And I know it may be too soon, but it seems silly to delay when we obviously have a connection. We’re old enough now to know what we want. And what I want is you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or at least not yet, but I couldn’t leave without asking. Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

“Harry, I would absolutely love to.”

He holds you closer in response pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and seeing the huge smile on your face.

“There’s just one more question,” he says. He seems even more nervous about this one, but you remain calm, even releasing some calming pheromones of your own.

You can tell he senses them as he relaxes and says, “Would you also do me the honor of being my omega?”

This question is even more unexpected than the last. He’s right in saying that it’s very early to ask, but at the same time, it’s not too early at all. Because there’s an undeniable connection between the two of you, not just as people, but as alpha and omega. It would be silly not to make it official.

Happy tears fill your eyes, and you nod yes in answer to his question. His eyes are similarly watery, and he leans down to press a kiss over your mating spot, a promise of what’s to come in the future, and you snuggle impossibly closer to him. To Harry. Your boyfriend. And your alpha.

You sleep soundly through the night, waking only when you realize Harry isn’t beside you. The spot is still warm, so he hasn’t been gone long. It’s early, a little before 7 a.m., and you hear Harry getting ready in the bathroom. He’ll be leaving soon. He mentioned a car would be picking him up to take him to the airport first thing in the morning.

Before you can get up he crouches down, running a hand over your hair. He’s ready to go, but he lays down next to you, soaking up every last second before he absolutely needs to leave. He scents you, does it so strongly that he’s practically scent marked the room, and you’re grateful for that. Since you’ll be stopping your medications today, having a space filled with his smell will help ease you through the transition.

Too quickly, his phone rings with a message that his ride is waiting outside.

He leans down to kiss you and say, “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll work it out, and I’m with you the whole way. Goodbye, my omega.”

You preen at the title and press another kiss to his lips before replying, “Thank you, alpha. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise,” he says. With one final press of his lips on your forehead, he drags himself out of the comfort of your nest and then out of your apartment.

It’s quiet without him, but you reflect on his parting words. You believe them wholeheartedly. It’s going to be difficult, but he’ll be there to help.

With the reassurance that you’re not alone, and Harry’s delicious scent filling the room, you slip back to sleep, feeling nervous but hopeful about what’s to come.

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

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all liked it as well!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 2 months

Note

Can I request a Hunter x female Y/N comfort/whump paternal fic plz? <3

Btw I loved your Crosshair x Y/N fic <3

Knight in Rusty Armor

Hunter x Reader

Summary- After a bad run-in at a market, Hunter has to save you and Omega. You can't help but feel like a failure for not being able to protect Omega by yourself...

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I'm not completely confident in my ability to write Hunter, but I tried my best!! Hope this is what you had in mind, XoXo.

Word Count- 2,118

You could feel his gaze on you from a mile away. It seemed that no matter the circumstance, Hunter was there.

While you were grateful for him, always- you couldn't help but feel like he didn't trust you. Well, maybe trust wasn't the right word. Nevertheless, he had to accompany you and Omega for a trip to the market.

Everyone had been flying for days and needed a place to resupply. Stretch their legs. You offered to take Omega to shop for some new clothes. She had rips in her shirt- ones that were barely held together by your sewing. So it seemed natural that you would take her, being the only other female on the ship.

Even before landing, you brought up the idea of you and Omega going to Hunter. You wanted to spend some time with her alone. One might have even said mother and daughter bonding...

He turned you down immediately. Rightfully so, as it was a foreign place. But you still wanted to compromise.

That's where you were now, looking through bounds of outfits. Varied from dresses, pants, jackets, and finally shirts. Hunter kept his distance. He did understand that Omega needed some 'girl time' with you, as Tech called it. He also understood that you two were the most important people to him, and he wanted to protect you at all cost.

When you and Omega stepped into an actual establishment for children's clothes, Hunter stood outside the door. Close enough that he could hear Omega laughing.

She picked through a rack, showing you the shirts she thought looked silly. The two of you got a couple odd looks, but neither of you cared.

A particular neon-green tube top grabbed her attention. She picked it up and joked that she wanted it.

"Yeah, very stealthy Omega." You said, playfully.

She giggled and put the shirt back. The two of you proceeded to go to the cashier with the 3 other shirts you found. Ones that fit her and were darker tones.

You immediately noticed that the owner of the store had a sour look on his face. This resulted in you putting on an cheery attitude, being extra kind.

"Ten credits." The yellow man stated, ignoring your pleasantries.

"T-ten?" You sputtered out, shocked. The tags on the clothes clearly stated 'one credit each.'

"Three for the clothes, and seven for the ones you insulted. Now an additional two for arguing with me." Since when was asking a question arguing.

Omega looked up at you, wondering what you would do next. You didn't have Ten credits on you, though you knew Hunter would let you tap into his personal stash if you asked. In this matter however, three shirts were not worth ten credits.

"Sir, i'm sorry about the comments. But we meant no harm. I can give you three credits for the shirts, as they are priced. No more." You reasoned with the man, knowing how bad Omega needed new clothes.

"You are not leaving this store until I get fifteen credits from you." He grumbled and reached for his blaster.

"Excuse me?" You were taken aback. Who did he think he was? Your own blaster was already raised.

"We don't have fifteen credits, and will be leaving now." You said, dropping the clothes. You were frustrated that the day had turned bad.

"Then she can work them off." He shoved his blaster to Omegas temple. Omega had left her energy bow back at the ship, and her borrowed blaster was on the side of her leg.

"We really don't have time for this, sir." You said before effectively disarming him. Your own blaster shot right past his shoulder, missing on purpose. It distracted him long enough for you to knock his blaster out of his own hand. Omega reached down to grab it- both guns now pointing at him.

It was as simple as it seemed, the guy was inexperienced. What the two of you didn't anticipate was Hunters call.

After rushing outside, the building was surrounded by men that looked like the store owner. Yellow with three horns on their ugly face.

What you would find out later was that the store owner had a bad temper, and went ahead to call for back-up. He was determined to make you all pay. Insanely petty if you could say so yourself.

Nevertheless, firing commenced. Again, it was easy. Even though they had numbers, they didn't possess the same skill as the three of you. Maybe that's why you got cocky?

Maybe that's why you found yourself with a blaster pointed at the back of your neck. The store owner! How did you forget him, you and Omega had rushed out without a second thought.

"This time, disarming me won't be so easy." You felt his breath on your ear, disgusting.

"Put the blaster down. Now." Hunter commanded. If you had your thoughts straight, it would have been really sexy.

"I don't think I will. I want 100 credits. For my time, and having to deal with these ratchet things you call humans!" The man insulted.

You smirked, "Not a wise decision." You remarked. Now it was personal- Hunter did not take insults to his girls lightly.

"Yeah, and what do you know? You're the one with a blaster poi-" He was interrupted by Hunter shooting him. Hunter wasn't as forgiving as you. The man fell, you didn't even look to see if he was alive.

With a puff Hunter started, "Let's get back."

"Are you okay!" Omega jumped to your side, calling your name.

Her voice sent a pang down from your spine to your stomach. She shouldn't be worried about you... She should feel safe and protected. All she saw was you getting risky and dumb. Now she thought she had to worry about you... You felt shame rush to your cheeks in a pink hue.

This Hunter took notice of, he was confused. There was nothing to be embarrassed about? At least he didn't think so.

The walk back to the ship was mostly silent, except for Hunter confirming we would try another market soon.

You kept your head up, now being over-cautious, hand hovering your blaster. That was until Hunter took your hand in his. He smiled at you. He could feel the tension off your body. He'd ask about it the second you got some alone time.

You looked at him and swallowed. You only felt more guilt. How was he so collected but ready to engage in combat at any moment. All of it just made you more insecure, what did you bring to the table?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Omega, pulling on Hunters free hand.

"Hunter! Can I pleeeeease get some!" She gestured to a bag of sweets for sale. A mix of fruity candy, lolli-pops, and chewing gum.

"I don't know Omega." He started, but after seeing her face fall he followed it with- "Okay, but you'll have to share it with Wrecker."

She jumped up, hugging onto his arm. "Thank you! You're the best dad ever!" She giddily said, snatching the credit he held out for her.

His face brightened up, it was his turn to wear a light pink hue. Omega didn't even seem to realize what she said, but you gripped Hunters hand tighter.

"Dad... I like it." You leaned onto him, resting a head on his shoulder. Your arm now fully wrapped around his.

"She probably didn't even mean to say it..." He doubted, not wanting to think anything that wasn't mutual.

"Don't sell yourself short, Hunter." You said, not looking up at him, but rubbing your cheek on the material of his shirt.

Omega bopped back over and the three of you headed back to the ship.

Sleep escaped you, tossing and turning. The thoughts of the market kept you awake. This was not normal. You had all been in crappy situations like that one, why did it affect you so much?

Having Hunter save you wasn't something you resented, it was quite attractive. Just this instance. You had been so careless... You could have put an end to it all, but forgot to immobilize the main threat. You huffed and puffed, trying to get out your frustrations.

You were so lost in thought, that when Hunter placed a concerned hand on your shoulder- you jumped. He pulled away instantly, thinking he might have hurt you in some way.

"W-what?" You asked, squinting up at him. It seemed that no one else was awake, Hunter being the only one on watch.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong, sweets?" He asked, hearing his nickname for you was enough to calm you down. At least, enough to get up and settle in one of the cock-pit seats.

You took a deep breath and sat up. He steadied you, an arm wrapping under your armpit to hold you.

"Just can't sleep." He knew there was more to the story. That was a big part about why you loved him. He was more than attentive, and the most selfless lover you could ask for.

"Come sit with me." He suggested, pulling you up with him as he stood to his feet.

He still had a hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the cockpit,

"So, what happened at the market?" You looked down, shame flooded out of you. Seemingly for no reason. You opted to sit down before answering.

"I let Omega down... There's nothing else to it. It was obvious." You almost felt angry that he didn't see the situation as you did.

His face scrunched up, eyes burning at you. He blinked several times before replying- "What are you talking about?"

With a groan you spoke again, "I can't even protect her from an angry, stupid, vender! You had to save us!" Your voice cracked at the end.

"I thought you didn't mind wh-" You cut him off

"I don't, I just-" You grumbled, frustrated that you couldn't find the right words.

"It's okay, you didn't let anyone down. Everyone is safe, it was just a small mishap." He reasoned, hating that you felt anything less than perfect. If only you saw yourself as he saw you.

You took a quick breath, "One day it won't be a 'small mishap' and something might happen to Omega. I was careless! Now she knows I can't protect her. I'm supposed to be the person she can run to... She must be so disappointed."

You let your head fall into your hands. You rested there for a moment, that was until Hunter made his way in front of you. He gently grasped your hands in his.

He lifted one of your hands to rest on his cheek- the tattooed one. You moved your thumb across the black lines.

"Omega thinks the world of you... nothing will change that. Who knows what would have happened if I wasn't there. If I hadn't called you out, you would have been able to think on what to do with the owner, right?" He explained, trying to shift some of the blame to himself.

You nodded at his words. At this he brings his free hand to rest on your cheek, matching yours on his. His words made you feel some relief, but you couldn't deny how you still felt guilty. Guilty that Omega may have thought differently now.

"Thank you..." You sniffled out, his words making your eyes water.

You leaned in for a kiss, only to be interrupted by a rustling.

Omega. Her light voice called your name, just before jumping onto you and Hunter. He held her steady as she fell into your arms.

"Today was so fun... I'm not disappointed!" You gasped slightly at her words, "You heard all that?" You had a worried look on your face.

"You guys are my family. I'll always feel protected with you." She leans into your arms, head resting just under your shoulder.

"I don't care about the mean guy, I had the best day ever... Can we visit the next market we find as well?" She said, excited, looking up into your eyes.

How could you say no to her sweet face?

"I think Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo should come too. Maybe they will have as much fun as we did shopping!" You and Hunter both laughed at this.

"i'm not so sure shopping is Tech's thing." Hunter joked.

You laughed again, wiping off the last tear on your face. Your anxieties had finally died down.

Hours later, Hunter would find you both asleep in the pilots chair- Omega rested snugged in your arms. That is, with evidence of the last candy all over Omega.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I didn't have a strong vision for this one, but I told myself I had to finish it before starting another. I also went off of some Star Wars article saying that 1 Credit is equal to 5 USD. Sorry if I got that wrong! As always, I am open to constructive criticism!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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