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#and i've been seen too much of those comments lately
r3dlif3 · 4 months
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I think above all the worst misconception about a naruto character has to be a 31 year old obito still being in love with 14 year old rin. Not only does this go against obito's whole character past the third shinobi war but it's plainly disgusting that people think this about a middle aged man. I'm telling you now that rin was not the sole reason for Obito's hatred for the shinobi world she was just the catalyst for him agreeing to madara's plan, resulting in everything that happened.
It's just annoying to see this misconception even when within the manga itself obito has stated he isnt in love with rin anymore in his adulthood as he refers to his love of her in the past tense. It's just painful to see people forget that rin was his best friend, not just his crush. She was the first person in his life to introduce him to friendship and to truly believe in his abilities and dreams. They were eachothers closest friend within life, even if rin didn't reciprocate obito's feelings she still loved him and cherished him.
I see comments about obito being the ultimate simp or some shit like that and its infuriating to see this shit about such a complex character like obito, he's only wittled down to some guy in love who apparently caused a war only for her or kakashi's friend.
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ririblogsss · 28 days
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what if Danny give no fu-ks
Ok hear me out, Dannys obsession has never truest been confirmed by the show itself (that I remember) I've seen a lot of people say his obsession comes from wanting to help / protect people. But what if he feels as though that he is now doing more damage than good, after all there are a lot of people getting hurt as colateral damage from the chases he has to go on. Or simply when he has to run away from getting captured.
What if one night he was up late and saw a post about a tragedy that happened because he slipped up (it wasn't even his fault, but he still blames himself for everything). And then he starts looking at all the bad comments against him ignoring all the good ones saying how much Danny Phantom has helped Amity. Because Danny is still human and confirmation bias is real. Imagine how he felt the moment he realized that he was causing people to get hurt instead of keeping them save.
Image the desperation clawing at him with the realization that he has never been able to fully manage his obsession. it makes him sad, desperate, angry.
His entire self is filled with too many emotions at the sametime he isn't even able to identify them and catalogue them properly like Jazz taught him.
and then everything stops and he feels nothing.
Completely and utterly numb.
Like his whole reason to keep going suddenly disappears.
And it has.
He gave up on his obsession and now he has to make / get a new one.
But it's not that easy.
This drastic change could've ended any ghost as they run on (live off) emotions.
Luckily because he's a Halfa, so that has given him the upper hand. Unfortunately it makes it so that he is completely devoid of any emotion.
Months go by and people immediately notice changes, the more drastic one is that Phantom went missing, and eventually a lot of ghost that where coming in looking for him stop. Amity Park is no longer populated by ghosts, and slowly the GIW started to retreat from Amity going to another place following a lead that says there are more ghost activities up north.
But those changes aren't the only ones noticeable. Dannys classmates and teachers can vouch that Danny has changed. Most say he was always quite , and others say he looked down right depressed. Danny didn't do much in classes not that he paid attention before. Its just this time it seems that its not out of being sleepy or anxious about another ghost attacking the school instead Danny looks like he coundn't give less of a fu-k about anything.
He never smiles anymore not even when his favorite subjects (mechanics and space) are brought up. Not even a quirk of a smile. The school decided to contact his parents about Dannys new behaviors. That includes skipping classes, not handing in work, not doing the assigned work in class ect....
And its not like his parents havent noticed, they've had more time in their hands since they aren't using hours of the day/night going out hunting anymore. and they have witnessed their son become a shell of himself. They don't know what to do, and they don't want to worry Jazz about it because she's at collage and needs to focus on her studies.
So when the school contact them and told them that the behavior is the same in school they decided major changes needed to happen. Starting with a change of environment.
Maddie and Jack decided that Amity park was too big of a city with too many people. They could nearly see the stars at night because of the light pollution, hence they decided to move next door to Alicia, Maddie sister, home in SmallVille.
They decided it was the best choice, Danny would be surrounded by nature and he could do online classes that would go the pace he wanted. The move was immediate, the day off they packed everything sold the house and moved.
They only stopped to say goodbye to Danny's friends. A small bye and hug later they were on a 7 hour road trip to their new home.
When they got there the old resident handed them the keys of the home and told them to ignore the their neighbors 'The Kents' as they often made a lot of noice and had group gatherings every month.
The one thing Jack and Maddie forgot to double check was if the house was an actual house or a farm house. Sounds similar, but completely different as they now had 2 cows, 16 chickens, 1 rooster, and 3 pigs to take care off.
Danny was put on duty of taking care of the animals, such as feeding them on time and making sure they were healthy. Jack and Maddie made more of the heavy weight as to re building broken fences and fixing the questionable roof.
(The first thing Danny did when meeting all the animals was name them. After all this was about all the interaction he was going to do.)
Danny didn't have time to think about his lost obsession or his lack of emotions as he was now too busy making sure each animal was taken care off.
Marcy and linda (the cows) were danny's favorite they were very gentle and he felt that they could understand him when he spoke to them the stories of his vigilante past.
On the other hand The Chickens were a nightmare, Glinda was cool as she never chased him down. But Matilda and Bethany were a nightmarish duo spiteful too when he was seconds late to the finding time. Mark the rooster was chill he mainly acted as of he was part of the group that needed protection.
Marice, Betty, and Miss Piggy were the chillest of the bunch never gave Danny any trouble when feeding them and always made a point that they loved their new mudbath installation that Danny made for them on his first 2 days on the farm.
A month after arriving at the farm house Danny noticed that mark was missing. Danny looked everywhere around the property and saw him from afar, at the road. So Danny did the sensible thing anyone would do when spotting a run away pet, and that is call their name at the top of your lungs whilst running after them.
naturally Mark the escape artist run the opposite direction. By the time Danny caught up to him Danny didn't recognize the house he was infant off. So with Mark comfortably in his arms He swears he can see a smug look on marks face. Danny turned away from the house to start his walk back to the farm, but he was met with a kid his age looking at him with distrust.
"Ehhh look kid Im sorry to have crossed the properties border but Mark here" Danny made a point to acentuate Mark in his arms "Runaway from me this morning and I've been trying to catch him ever since, anyways I need to go feed the girls"
The kid starred at him for a second "OMG your from the new family in Mr.duncans farm right? in Aver ST.?" and wow the kid was like a ray of sunshine.
"Yea-" Danny could even finish his sentence before the kid cut him off by starting to talk a mile a minute about how he was so exited to meet people his age that lived near by and how farm chores were harder that normal house chores.
"Jon, give him time to respond. Im Damian this is Jon" Danny jumped he hadn't noticed the second kid at all
"Oh yeah... sorry about that what's your name?" The kid (Jon) slightly less enthusiasm, a bit embarrassed if his tone of voice was anything to get by.
"Danny, Im 15" he responded before he started walking away after all he did need to get in time to feed the chickens unless he wants to suffer their furry. Danny shuddered at the memory that popped up in his head.
"Wait!!! I just thought we could be friends cause we live close by u know" Jon said catching up with Dannys steps. Damian was following from behind.
"Sure kid I don't care" Dannys voice was monotone much like it had been for months.
"Hey were not kids for your information, Im 14 and Damians 16 soon to be 17, so if anything you night be the actual kid!" Danny chuckled slightly it was more similar to releasing air from his lips than a laugh.
Soon a quite and enjoyable science encompassed the group as they went to Dannys home.
"Hmm... you're hold on Mark is adequate and the your determination for getting home in time for feeding is acceptable" Damian spoke up after a while of the passive silence.
"yeah and what is It to you" Danny was slightly urked by Damians default setting speach. He told him as such.
Jon blanched before erupting into giggles that sent him to lay down on the grass uncontrollably laughing. Damians right eyebrow quirked up in what Danny assumed was amusement.
Thus a new friendship grew that day.
They often gathered at Dannys or Jons yard to have picnic in the weekends (as Damian and Jon has school in Metropolis on week days) and hangout with the animals. Danny found out that Damian was a vegetarian and that he had various animals at home. One time he brought his Great Dane Titus, who bodied Danny on sight to give him kisses.
Also Damian was Damian Wayne as in bruce Wayne, Batman sugar daddy. When he said that, Jons milk flew out of his nose and Damian choked on his cucumber wrap. Even Titus gave him a judgemental stare.
Slowly Danny started to smile more, laugh every so often. And things were feeling so much better after not being able to feel anything for a while.
Jazz, Aunt Alicia and especially Maddie and Jack felt so relived to see that Danny was slowly coming back to them.
Danny to this day backs the fact that Mark knew something and planned the whole thing.
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stariekis · 3 months
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a room for two
🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : kisses + skinship
— synopsis : visiting their room for the first time <3
— note : finally i had the inspiration to write smt 🙌🏻 sorry for being inactive lately babies but here you have more ot7 content ! hope you enjoy reading it, as always reposts and feedback are so welcome <3 sending the biggest kiss ^3^
heeseung :
we all know how big of a gamer he is so i know that he would have one of those professional gamer set ups in his room, the one that streamers usually have. and, as he has shown us, he collect figures too so a big shelf full of them is a must in his room. — 'this is were i spend most of my time' he said, sitting on his chair — 'now i know where you are when you don't answer my text am i right?' you answered, joking obviously. he rolled his eyes at your comment, taking you hand on his and making you sit on his lap, his hands now resting on you thighs. you admired his room, he didn't have a lot of decoration but it was so like him. — 'i think i like your room more than mine, i might come over more' you said turning to him. he giggled at your comment, you just made him the happiest boy ever. pecking your lips he answered — 'you are more than welcome doll' giving you another kiss, this one lasting more than the other one you both just shared.
jay :
i've always imagine him having the tidiest room ever. but, because it was the first time sleeping with you, he wanted his room to look ten times better. he cleaned everything up, light up candles and changed his sheets, it needs to be perfect. when you entered his room for the first time you were welcomed by the coziest room you've ever been, the aroma of vanilla flooded your nose —'you like it love?' jay said, standing on the door frame while looking at your curious figure eyeing up his room. — 'hope you do because you will spend a lot of time here from now on' he was now hugging your waist from behind. — 'i like that idea actually' you answer him, receiving a kiss on your neck from him.
jake :
his room was, to your surprise, very organized. you thought that his room would be kind of messy but everything was perfectly placed, not a single dust speck visible. — 'don't be fooled, his room is not always this tidy' you heard jay say as he passed in front of jake's room — 'WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT MAN' he shouted stepping out of his room, hearing jay laugh down the hallway right after. taking his arm and pulling him inside again you hold both of his hands — 'baby it's fine, i wouldn't mind at all' you pecked his pouty lips, he didn't want you to know (even though you would end up discovering it, but not know at least) — 'now that you know my secret i don't have to clean every time, is tiring you know?' grabbing you by the waist he lifted you off the ground and sat the both of you on his bed, spending the rest of the day in each other's embrace.
sunghoon :
he would have the most minimalist room out of them. lots of framed pics perfectly placed on his walls — 'you took all of them?' you said sitting on his desk chair, they were the first thing that caught your attention — 'each and every one of them yeah' a smile plastered on his face as he answered your question, feeling proud that you liked his pics that much. you turned around on his chair now facing him who was sitting in his bed with his camera on his hand — 'wait baby i want to take a picture of you stay there' you smile at the camera, the flash appearing right after —'why do you want a picture of me here hoon?' you asked him, getting up from his chair and making your way towards him, standing in between his open legs. he put his camera aside and grabbed your hips looking up at you — 'because i like to take pictures of pretty views and you are the prettiest one i've ever seen'.
sunoo :
i just know that sunoo would have tons of cute plushies on his bed ): so as soon as you opened the door you were welcomed by a pile of plushie on top of his bed — 'you put them away when you sleep right?' you said, he looked at you with a shocked expression — 'no i don't, how could you say something like that?' your expression changed into a shocked one — 'how are we going to fit in your bed then my love?' you said putting your hand on you hips while looking at his bed. — we will make it work don't worry' he concluded, smiling at you. the next morning you found all of his beloved "friends" on the floor, a reminder to put them aside the next time.
jungwon :
like sunoo i thing he might have tons of plushie on top of his bed, mostly fan gifts. when you entered his room and saw all the cat plushies you smiled turning towards him — 't-they are not mine they are from jay i'm just keeping them here... yeah' you laugh at his reaction, sitting on his bed and taking one on you hand you out it next to you boyfriend's face — 'they look like you thought' he took from your hands the plushie and looked at him with a smile adoring his face. sitting next to you in his bed he looked at you, sighing — 'you didn't believe it right?' you shook your head hearing him laugh as he lay on his bed, you followed right after. — 'but having that many plushie of yourself is a bit self-centered don't you think' you jokingly said, looking at his side profile. he pinched your side while mouthing a 'shut up', hearing you giggling right after.
ni-ki :
he would be a nervous wreck my baby </3 and i know for a fact that he would hide all his plushie in his closet so you won't see them, he thought that you might find it ridiculous. the idea was fine at first but his secret was soon to be discovered when you opened his wardrobe and a tiny duck plushie felt in front of you. he was laying on his bad looking at his phone so he didn't realize what just happened. you made your way towards him with the little duck on your hand — 'this is so cute why was him on your closet' he looked up from his phone but as soon as he made eye contact with the thing on your hands he rolled on his back and hid his face on his hands — 'you weren't supposed to see that babe' laughing at him you sat down on top of him putting the stuffed animal up in his face telling him how similar they were. a long night was ahead for the both of you.
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il-miele-che-scrive · 3 months
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Could you do something with Lewis, maybe reader and Lewis have been dating for a while but she’s famous too so they kept things really private, but they got married over the winter break and now the other drivers are finding out
Hello 🫶 lately I've been doing more smaus so I decided to make this one a smau also, hoping you'll like it 🩷
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yourusername I still haven't gotten used to seeing myself on those huge ads
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georgerussell63 A supermodel and an actress not being used to seeing herself in ads? 🤨
↳yourusername When was the last time you were walking down the street and saw a picture of you casually hanging on a building? 🤨 Let me tell you it always takes you by surprise, George
carmenmmundt How are you so beautiful? 😭
↳yourusername I love you Carmen 😭
oscarpiastri Good job, Y/n👏
danielricciardo What an abundance of beauty you are
landonorris an amazing day to have eyes
charles_leclerc Can't take my eyes off you
zhouguanyu24 You haven't posted in months and that's what you decided to post?🙄
↳username1 AND SHE ATE
carlossainz55 See you in Vegas soon 👋
tchalamet You busy lately? We haven't been in a movie together for a while
↳username2 Co-star rizz lmao
username3 It's so weird to me how Y/n is the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen and she's SINGLE
↳username4 It's her choice
username3 And she made it while having f1 drivers and timothee casually flirting with her in the comment section
username4 Doesn't seem that much like flirting to me 🤷‍♀️ she's friends with Carmen and George so she's gonna have the drivers in her comments. And Tim is like her bestie
username3 Are you blind 😭 okay maybe Oscar's comment is friendly, but the rest is definitely flirting!!
username4 Whatever feeds your delusions I guess. I don't think she's single, she might just be keeping her relationship super private. Exactly because of fans like you
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yourusername Nothing beats a date in Las Vegas
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username1 A DATE. IN VEGAS.
username2 Okay guys, which driver do we think took her on the date?
↳username3 I'm saying Lando, it's a very Lando thing to do
username4 imo he was too busy healing from this terrible crash he had lmao
username5 Plus Lando is too young for her, I'd say Danny Ric
username4 yooo y/n and danny would be a great couple, I hope you're right
username6 Do you guys remember what Carlos commented under her previous post?? "See you in Vegas" or smth
↳username4 yeah but it could be just because she was invited to the paddock
username6 Like usually. But did you ever see any driver say anything like see you there and there before other races?
carmenmmundt YOU WENT ON A DATE?
↳georgerussell63 @/yourusername reply immediately and say who took you
yourusername Mom, dad, I'm terribly sorry I didn't tell you 😭
carmenmmundt This doesn't answer our questions...
↳username1 Help even they didn't know lol
username7 It could be anybody, guys. Y/n has most of the drivers in her likes
↳username2 Then maybe it's someone who isn't in the likes? 🤭
username7 Well, then we have Alonso, Bottas, Hamilton and a few others, it doesn't make it easier
username3 She'll say who it is when they're both ready but I wish it would happen as soon as possible
username9 LMAO none of the guys from the previous post commented now
↳username5 She just subtly told them too f off cuz she's taken 😭
username8 I can't wait until the winter break, I know something is gonna happen...
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yourusername He made me get my first tattoo lol
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username1 WHAT?? IS?? HAPPENING??
↳username2 idk looks like miss girl moved, got a tattoo and then decided to travel around 😐
carmenmmundt When are we going to talk about who is "he"?
↳yourusername When the timing is right ✨
georgerussell63 Whoever he is, he's a bad influence on you 🙄
↳yourusername Mom can you tell dad to quit my comment section @/carmenmmundt
username3 Y/n moved to Monaco 😭
↳username4 And how do you know that?
username3 Haven't you heard she was seen there?
username4 And? Celebs love Monaco
username3 Exactly. So she moved there. Possibly with her secret boyfriend
username5 Okay so what we know about Y/n's secret man is they live together in Monaco, he could be an F1 driver and he must have tattoos (because why would he make her get one otherwise?)
↳username6 IT'S DANNY RIC I'M TELLING Y'ALL
username7 Well there's also Hamilton who has quite a lot of tattoos
username8 And Alonso and Stroll, she didn't say how many tattoos her bf has, could be as well one or two
username5 Don't forget some drivers might have them hidden and never spoke about them
username9 To be fair she didn't say if he has any in general lol
danielricciardo What about a party in the new apartment?
↳username6 Yeah, keep telling me it's not him
↳yourusername Most likely when I'm back from my lil vacation
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lewishamilton Winter break
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username1 EXCUSE ME
username2 SIR LEWIS HAMILTON, EXPLAIN THE LAST PHOTO
username3 Don't panic, guys, it is me in the 4th pic
username4 I know he's an almost 40 years old man but I'm still shocked
username5 ngl that woman's hand looks familiar...
username6 Not even a tag on the last pic? 😕
username7 Silly season starting early this year 😭
↳username4 Yeah, firstly he dropped the bomb about moving to Ferrari and now THIS
username7 Man said lemme dominate this winter break 🤠
landonorris congrats i guess?
carlossainz55 Unexpected but happy for you!
georgerussell63 I'm calling Toto, you're lucky he doesn't have social media
username8 I can't believe he kept it a secret from all the drivers lol
↳username7 And for so long too!! I mean, you don't marry someone you started dating a month ago, it could've been going on for YEARS
charles_leclerc When will we meet this mysterious lady?
↳lewishamilton I'm sure you all know her well
↳username7 Leclerc better stay away 🤺
username9 You guys don't ever know how sure I am that it's Y/n
↳username10 I won't believe it until they confirm it
username9 Yeah because it's a total coincidence Y/n recently moved to Monaco, got a tattoo because "her bf made her" and also went on a trip
yourusername Shik shak shok
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username1 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT
username2 The couple I never knew I needed
username3 Two fashion icons
username4 Honestly is anyone surprised? Like, okay, unexpected, but I'm not surprised Lewis is dating one of the most famous models/actresses in the world
↳username5 I am surprised tbh 😭 I think a lot of people expected DR3, not LH44
username6 rip to all the drivers who used to hit on Y/n in her comment section 💀
username7 So Y/n is dating LH44 and is best friends with the girlfriend of GR63?
↳username8 She copied her lol
username7 Except Carmen's bf hasn't ever won the world champion title lmao
↳username9 That's a real friendship. Going for drivers from the same team
username10 I need to know how did they mange to keep it a secret for so long 😭
↳username11 Yeah cuz I can't believe even Toto himself had no idea
username12 Something about them being married makes so much sense, I love them
username13 Imagine when we start seeing them doing ads together omg
↳username14 ads? 💀 now that they're out and married I expect lots of content together on both their accounts AND on Drive to survive and just anywhere
username11 tbh who cares about the races, they can just display Y/n on the screen for 2h and I'd watch
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y/nhamilton btw we used to date but now we're just married (and thanks @/zhouguanyu24 for keeping our secret)
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carmenmmundt I was just as shocked as the fans
landonorris somehow I'm not surprised Zhou knew
↳username1 And he knew about both THIS and Lewis moving to Ferrari!! And kept quiet both times!
↳charles_leclerc I wonder what else Zhou knows that we don't
username2 Zhou Guanyu is officially the most trustworthy guy on the grid
↳username3 And I thought it'd be Oscar...
username4 Does it mean more iconic Y/n outfits on the paddock? 😍
↳y/nhamilton And matching outfits! 🤭
username2 Oh they're gonna kill it!!
username5 I need a friend like Zhou
zhouguanyu24 You're welcome 😌
↳y/nhamilton 🫶
↳lewishamilton 💜
username6 I never thought about Lewis and Zhou being friends, but...?
username7 in moments like this I go look at the old posts where other drivers would flirt with Y/n lmao
username8 This winter break belongs to Lewis
oscarpiastri Lewis' last name suits you
↳landonorris it would've been funny to see Lew change his last name to hers tho lol
carlossainz55 How long have you been together?
↳y/nhamilton Something like 5 years now
carlossainz55 And none of us knew all this time 😳
y/nhamilton Zhou knew... I've just said that
username9 All the other drivers immediately regretting everything they said under other Y/n's posts hahahah
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months
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BRO I'VE BEEN HOLDING BACK CAUSE I THOUGHT YOU'D ALREADY HAVE TOO MANP CAP. MACTAVISH REQUESTS I-
I'm here to rectify this issue immediately, how about one with him and the reader being soft? something bout seeing this rugged man melt when he comes home to his darling just egIUAfosnkew IT'S SO SWEET
—Look At The Stars; Look At Me
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞
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You breathe slowly, eyes gazing longingly far above you at the twinkling lights. They take up your pupils in the low glow of the moon—the dots of those far-off globes of hydrogen and helium shining bright. 
The glade behind the hidden forest home is filled with the scent of wildflowers, grass, and the grind of fresh earth; it captures your nostrils as the fireflies come out to dance on iridescent wings. Under you, John’s blanket lets you be just the tiniest bit closer to him for the moment, limbs loose, sleep-clothes compliant to the flow of the breeze as it spreads a whisper through the leaves. 
A deer snorts downwind, a low call over the air that can be felt in the gentle quiet. Crickets creak like the old floorboards of a lived-in home. You’re eased by the knowledge that, as your Lover drives back to this place—back to you—he’s under the same stars as the ones you gawk at in the skin of an awe-drunk woman who loves him more than even this. 
A car pulls down the worn-grass road, and you hear the brakes lightly squeak on that shitty rental, a smile twitches along your face, but you don’t move.
He knows where to find you this late; knows you wouldn’t go to sleep when he’d called you not two hours earlier to say he’s back. 
The both of you are stubborn and know the other more than a priest knows his own God.
A soft whistle lets you know he’ll be there in a moment, coming from behind the treeline before the sound of a car door getting closed echoes. The birds pause for a moment, though not seconds later they re-start their bedtime symphonies. 
There’s a rustling, and your heart picks up the pace gradually, excitement making your lips peel slowly back into a wide smile as you gaze at the Herdsman and his glittering Arcturus star. Painting pictures in your mind, you think of the untold number of things he’s seen from his deep-space throne as your lover returns like a lumbering hound, already hearing his large sigh at the sight of you. 
You don’t shift your gaze until an accented comment makes you chuckle. 
“Bit of a cold night to be doin’ this,” John’s face peaks into your field of view, leaning above you with his arms crossed—one of those dark brows raised.
He looks worse for wear with a big bruise over the left side of his jaw, and medical tape on his dark eyebrow ridge. The scar is still there, over his left eye; his orbs that continue to glint more than the stars ever could in your gaze. 
You hum in your throat, blinking up at him with a tilted nose. 
“What?” Your voice makes the hardness of his face dim, a small sigh through his nostrils as if he could never truly get out of that version of himself without hearing you speak first. “Did you expect me to miss a view like this?”
He scoffs, tilting his head. “I’m not that much of an idiot. Move it.”
You smile widely, staying directly in the middle of his blanket as a smirk slashes the Captain’s lips, his blues deepening. A bird darts away from above his head. 
“Already misbehaving, then? Not a good start, Little Lady.” 
“I was here first, MacTavish.” He makes an amused noise in his throat, moving his hands from his arms to grasp under yours. You squeal, laughing loudly as he drags you up with a low chuckle into his large shirt and tucked pants. 
“Aye, you were here first,” he brings you up into his arms—a bridal hold that leads you to wrap your arms around his neck as you shake with glee, burying your head into his flesh. “Never said you weren’t.” Lips whisper into your ear and he can feel your smile as it spreads against him. “But you’ve got to pick your battles wisely, eh? I’m the one who can carry you on my arm.”
You kiss his neck a few times, quick kisses in between mutterings of love; his beard shifts as he lets a small smile, amusement lingering yet dimming for something far more important. The word seems more alive than it had moments ago, but that’s not a bad thing. No, not at all. 
“What’s the point of interest tonight, then?” He slips off his boots and walks you back onto the blanket, smoothing it out with his foot before he grunts and settles down—you in his lap. “I’ve lost where we were last time.”
“The Herdsman, John,” you remind gently, pushing on his chest so he lays back with no argument, shifting you into the crook of his right arm as it circles you. He gently squeezes and presses you tighter. 
On his chest you place your head, arm snaking around his waist to suck in his warmth with a soft sigh.
“Ah, that’s right. Herdsman.”
He kisses your forehead, digging his nose into you and closing his eyes softly. None of the stars could compare to the one in his arms—he’ll leave the gazing to you in the meantime. 
Your body in the gap between his arm was all he needed. 
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halfagone · 8 months
Text
The Power of DPxDC
There has been a lot of anti-DPxDC sentiment going around lately; if you haven't heard about it, then don't worry about it. This isn't a post about the negativity, this is a post celebrating how much we've done as a crossover fandom!
Just as a bit of perspective, I've been reading fics from DPxDC since 2020. Now that might not seem like a long time ago, but back then we didn't even have 100 fics for the crossover as a whole, and look at us now! This is a screenshot from Ao3 just today:
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Incredible, isn't it? Look how much we've grown and contributed and shared! And that's not even mentioning all the wonderful Tumblr prompts and posts and incredible fanart. DPxDC has us in a chokehold and it isn't about to let go any time soon.
I know it can be a little disheartening to see all the people trying to drag us down. I know I've been left disappointed in some cases, but I also know that my love for the crossover hasn't abated at all, and I hope it stays that way with you all too!
There is so much engagement in this crossover, I cannot tell you enough how much you all have spoiled me with comments and kudos and fanart. A lot of my fandom friends like to tease me for writing so much, but I don't think I could have written half of those fics had it not been for people like you loving them as much as you do.
Passion is the lifeblood of this fandom, of every fandom! And I don't see that going away any time soon for DPxDC.
I know I want to comment and kudos more. I read a lot of fics, but I don't sign in often so that you can see me leaving that kudos, and it's been more and more apparent to me how many people don't realize how much I adore their writing. I'm hoping to fix that!
Some might say that we don't tag our work appropriately, and while that might be true in some cases, I cannot stress enough just how good of a job we're doing. @tourettesdog made a wonderful post not too long ago about tagging, and we do clean work! Not even a full 3% of all the tags they'd seen included a "main" tag, which has been the frustration for most. 3%? That's incredible!
You all deserve some appreciation for the hard work y'all do, and this is it! I hope you all know how well you've fed creators, readers, and fans like me! Don't let up, because we do amazing work. And that deserves to be celebrated.
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cutielando · 1 month
Note
Hi ! hope you're having a great day/evening/night,
I had an idea for a smau with someone on the f1 grid (it can be anyone but I have a preference for either Oscar or Logan), so I'm a fan of the bands Ghost and Sleep Token, which is something so very different from f1 and I kept wondering what would happen if those fandom where to merge together, so the request basically is that the reader is in a band like ghost or sleep token and they're dating one of the guys on the grid, and so those 2 very different fandom meet,
so like how would they interact and all, or maybe there would be some people that are in both fandoms, idk
there's no pressure for you to make it if you have no idea of how to do it or if you simply don't want to <3
a/n: thank you so much for requesting!!❤️ i’m a little out of my element on this one so i apologize if it doesn’t end up exactly as you imagined it, but i hope you like it !!
social media au
synopsis: the request 🌸❤️
my masterlist
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sleep_token Another night to remember
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yourusername such a unique experience 🤍
sleepingdreaming sleep token never disappoints
sleep_token We live to please.
sleepingdreaming 😭😭i can die happy now
user1 they are really something
logansargeant very special night indeed 😮‍💨
user2 excuse me? LOGAN SARGEANT AT A SLEEP TOKEN CONCERT?
user3 their concerts seem so much fun :(((
user4 they are the best, the energy they being to every performance is like nothing i have ever seen before
user5 does anyone know who the members are?
user4 no, they’re completely anonymous. the only thing we could really say is that they have a girl and the rest of them are men but that’s kinda it 😅
user6 super amazing night ❤️❤️
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formula1gossippofficial New couple alert? 🚨 Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri were spotted attending a Sleep Token concert last night in Australia. The McLaren driver was seen getting cozy with an unknown woman the entire night and reports said they disappeared from the concert together in the late hours of the night. What do we think? 🤔
view all 1,925 comments
user1 maybe we should let him live his life?
user2 i never thought i would hear Oscar Piastri and Sleep Token used in the same sentence 😅
sleepingdreaming i can confirm they were there, seemed to have had a lot of fun as well
user3 is it true that he was with a girl there?
sleepingdreaming yes, they seemed very close too. logan seemed to be more of a third wheel than anything else to be honest 😂
op81fan she must be very special to make Oscar go out and stay that late on a race weekend🤔🤔
user4 the fact that he never goes out before a race and now he did and was seen with a girl in public makes me think she is hella special 👀
iMessage
yourname❤️
did you see the pictures?
oscar🐨❤️
i did
i’m sorry, i should have known there were gonna be paparazzi all over town last night
yourname❤️
babe, i don’t mind
i wanna be seen with you
i just don’t want people to figure out i’m in the band or anything, it would ruin the whole anonymity thingy lol
oscar🐨❤️
i’ll protect you❤️
i’ll make sure nobody figures it out
yourname❤️
in the meantime, wanna have some fun with the fans?😈
oscar🐨❤️
what did you have in mind?
yourname❤️
😈😈👀👀👀
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 4,194 others
yourusername melbourne, you're a gem
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yourbff damn girl
yourusername
logansargeant i see what you did there
yourusername impressive, right?
oscarpiastri must be a special city
yourusername some pretty special fellas roaming around the streets as well
oscarpiastri that's really interesting. tell me more
yourusername that would be inappropriate
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oscarpiastri music is cool‼️
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user1 OSCAR???????
user2 WHO IS THAT?????
logansargeant you're getting better at this
oscarpiastri i've been taking lessons to make sure i don't screw it up😃
yourusername damn ;)
oscarpiastri 😈
sleepingdreaming this fandom merge is wiiiiiild
user3 DO YOU KNOW SOMETHING WE DON'T???
sleepingdreaming maybeeeee...👀👀
user4 i never thought i would see Oscar being into rock
landonorris i don't believe that's you
oscarpiastri you can believe whatever you want
landonorris hmmm
yourusername you better believe it😮‍💨
landonorris you could spare me the details, thank you
mclaren We didn't know how to feel about this, but we're starting to love it!🧡 liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername
iMessage
yourname❤️
do you think we should tell them?
oscar🐨❤️
do you want to tell everyone?
i completely understand if you’re not ready yet
it’s a lot of pressure being seen with me
the fans are crazy
yourname❤️
have you seen my fans, babe?😂
they are just like yours, if not worse sometimes
they just want to protect both of us
oscar🐨❤️
so you want to make things official?
come to the paddock as my girlfriend?
yourname❤️
i think it's time we tell the world
it just sucks nobody in your world is really going to know who i am
oscar🐨❤️
i thought your friends didn't know who you are?
yourname❤️
they have suspicions
i think that deep down, they know who we all are
but nobody says anything because we've built our image on being anonymous
it's like knowing but without saying it out loud, you know
oscar🐨❤️
so your fans will know you're dating an F1 driver but mine won't know i'm dating the lead singer of Sleep Token?
yourname❤️
pretty much, yeah
oscar🐨❤️
so cool❤️
okay, i'll post a picture of us then
yourname❤️
be careful which pictures you post
i wanna look good :(
oscar🐨❤️
babe
you look good in every photo i have of you
yourname❤️
awwwwwww
i love you my koala bear🐨🐨❤️
oscar🐨❤️
i love you too my rockstar girl❤️
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oscarpiastri got bored of soft-launching tagged: yourusername
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yourusername staaaaawp
yourusername i love you so much ❤️❤️
oscarpiastri i love you more 🧡
logansargeant i’m surprised you managed to keep it a secret for this long to be honest
oscarpiastri you need to stop underestimating me, you know
yourusername i didn’t think we would be able to pull it off either…
oscarpiastri ⁉️⁉️
yourusername sorryyyyyyyyy
landonorris i am very hurt that i wasn’t aware you are in a relationship
yourusername we were literally introduced…
oscarpiastri i literally told you about her
landonorris …oh
yourbff my favorite couple ❤️
yourusername ❤️❤️
nicolepiastri i can’t wait to see you guys tonight!!❤️
yourusername we can’t wait either!!!❤️
user1 I KNEW IT
user2 ITTY BITTY OSCAR HAS A GF????😭😭
sleepingdreaming ❤️ i love seeing it
user3 WHAT DO YOU KNOW???????
sleepingdreaming i can’t say 🥲🫶🏻
user4 THEY ARE SO CUТЕ😭❤️❤️❤️
user5 he looks so happy 🥹🥹
georgerussell63 she’s really a gem
oscarpiastri she’s amazing, isn’t she? so talented as well
yourusername you’re making me blush 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
user6 never thought i would see Oscar dating a rocker girl
user7 why not? he loves her regardless of that
user6 i know !!! i didn’t mean it in a bad way, it’s just really cute how they seem to be opposites but getting along great
user8 she really seems to be helping Oscar get out of his comfort zone
sleep_token ❤️ liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri
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141 notes · View notes
Text
— his colours —
Warnings: angst, fluff, sad!bucky, liquor consumption
Summary: Bucky might be too late to tell you how he feels.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Word Count: ~5.2k
A/N: An idea that popped up in my head and finally broke through the struggle I've been having while writing. Enjoy and feast upon this! Also add yourself to the taglist(s) >here<
Steve narrowed his eyes at the brooding figure in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what exactly was itching in his brain. 
Bucky had always been a charmer, and a damn good one at that. From when he first met Steve’s mother, Sarah, sporting a few bruises and a busted lip, to when he was getting drafted in the war. 
Sarah was a kind woman, but that didn’t mean she trusted easily. With Steve’s father and a few relatives that turned away in their time of need, Sarah fell apart with her own friends and family. Her trust dwindled and started to dim until Steve showed up with Bucky in tow after school. She was weary at first, perhaps thinking that Bucky was no good news, but as the days progressed along with their friendship, she started viewing him as a son. He was around every few days for dinner, bringing a few things that he passed along as extra food the maid had conveniently accidentally brought with her. 
It didn’t take too long for Sarah to put two and two together, but she never said anything to him. Never scolded him for bringing food to their dinner. She knew he did it out of love, not pity or sympathy. He loved Steve as a brother and looked up at Sarah with a boyish grin that made it impossible for her to be mad. 
Steve watched Bucky now, remembering the days when Bucky would simply grab any shirt and pants to wear, grinning as he told Steve about this new dame that had moved into town. He was confident and struck with features that had any woman falling into his arms with just one lopsided smile. A few more grins and some dances later, the woman would offer to leave. Sometimes Bucky would agree with dimples, other times he would politely refuse and say he wanted to do things right. 
Bucky lacked that confidence now, Steve realised, eyebrows rising slightly on his face. It wasn’t evident at first glance. Bucky was steady and graceful, not once faltering in his movements as he knotted his tie. Nor as he shrugged on his blazer. It was when his eyes would flicker over the mirror in front of him. It was obvious when his hand brushed over a spot on his shoulder a few times and fixed his tie to sit straight. Even more so when he fixed the collar of his shirt and then his blazer, only to find his hair sitting slightly off and fixing that instead. 
“You’re nervous,” Steve breathed out, breaking the comfortable silence that they had been in for a few minutes. Bucky paused his actions for a second before seemingly deciding to ignore his comment. Steve watched him pull his shirt sleeves under his blazer, jaw ticking when he caught Steve’s eyes through the mirror. 
“I’m not,” he said simply, as if that ended the conversation. Steve was curious though. Never in his life had he seen Bucky nervous for a social gathering, much less a party that Tony was throwing. After the whole debacle in DC, Bucky had recovered well and fast, thanks to T’Challa’s favour and Shuri’s brains. His memories were hazy at times and he had nightmares—sometimes he had to be restrained by Steve—but that was four years ago. 
Over the past two years, Bucky was able to sleep throughout the night at least four nights in a week. Those night terrors had decreased to about five in the past year or so and his memories had been recovered. He remembered the diner that had been down the block from Steve’s house, the smell of his mother’s cinnamon buns, and the wretched taste of mud and blood in his mouth during the war. His social etiquette returned and Tony started inviting him to parties that Bucky had no problem attending. He was more than happy to indulge women and men in his charms once again. 
“Yes, you are,” Steve deadpanned, sitting up straighter when Bucky shook his head and sighed. His hands came down from his tie that he was adjusting again. He looked at Steve through the mirror before turning around to face him and dropped the hand that had come up to check his hair. 
“What makes you think that?” Bucky asked instead. Steve knew he was deflecting the question, but gave in and nodded at his form. 
“That.” Steve nodded at him again. Bucky frowned and looked down at his clothes, arms going up at his sides. Just as Bucky was about to speak again, Steve cut in. “You’ve been looking at yourself over and over again.” Steve watched Bucky carefully before realization dawned on him. 
“You’re nervous ‘cause she’s going to be there,” he voiced out in a breathless manner. Steve hadn’t even thought of that and he inwardly cursed at himself for not seeing it sooner. Of course, the reason Bucky was nervous was because of the one person who seemed to be able to throw Bucky off his charms. 
Bucky opened his mouth to retaliate, but stopped short when Steve raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. He closed his mouth and averted his eyes as if his eyes would give away the feeling that was smothering him slowly. He licked his lips, turning his attention to a lint that had stuck onto his pants. His hands were sweaty, but he kept them steady as he picked at the lint and smoothed out the wrinkle at his chest. His nerves were acting up today, for this party, simply because you were coming back from Greece. 
“She hasn’t been here in two years,” Bucky finally said, sighing as he brought his eyes back up to meet Steve’s gentle gaze. His shoulders fell with an exhale, trying to calm his thudding heart and roaring ears. “She hasn’t seen me since—since I was still recovering.” When Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, Bucky knew he didn’t understand what he meant. 
“But you guys kept in contact the entire time,” Steve mumbled, grabbing his shoes to put them on and keeping his head down. It gave Bucky a chance to turn around without the annoying glare Steve would send his way for trying to cut the conversation off. 
Bucky did keep in contact with you when he could. He had texted you everyday for the first three months and sent daily reminders to eat because he knew you would forget while working. The texts had abruptly stopped from his end when he was called away on a SHIELD stealth mission. That meant he had called you the second he was able to, throwing off his shoes and tossing his duffel bag away, he called you. You didn’t pick up. He called again and again, but then registered that you were probably asleep. 
He went through your texts, ranging from the top ones of concern to the bottom ones of realization to the last few that varied from your daily tasks. His heart had never felt heavier. The suffocating feeling lingered on his shoulders as he forced himself to lay down. He just couldn’t let go of his phone or turn his head off. He kept his phone on his chest, hair dampening the pillow as he laid awake staring at the ceiling. He kept wishing you called back, but you didn’t. He texted you in the morning with heavy eyes, drooping shut every now and then. 
You responded and he started texting like usual, only this time it was rare for you to reply in the same day. His social battery lowered and he usually found himself in the corner with a drink or leaving early with a quick excuse. He never asked why the texts had been reduced. He was too scared of getting an answer his heart couldn’t handle. His heart already ached with each passing day you two spent apart, not knowing how you were doing. He wouldn’t be able to text you if you told him that you had met someone and were busy with them. 
He was a coward. A coward for not telling how he felt when you left. 
You were the only one that didn’t tip-toe around him and treat him like he was made of porcelain. You were gentle, but that didn’t stop you from telling him exactly what you thought. You respected his boundaries that had been set quietly. You didn’t touch him before telling him and asking if it was okay, but you also told him that he should get used to people not asking before touching as well. You kept your distance from his left side if you two walked together, knowing very well he still wasn’t over the murder and torture it had executed.
It was easy to fall for you. You made it so easy for him to stumble, trip, and fall in. 
“Buck?” Steve’s voice was tinged with concern and worry, a small crack seeping through the vowel. Bucky’s eyes flickered up, hands unconsciously sliding down his front to smoothen out his shirt again. 
Bucky swallowed. “Yeah, we did.” His throat burned with the white lie. You two had stopped texting each other three weeks ago with a simple ‘goodnight’ from the both of you. 
Steve stood up, his light blue blazer and pants with the white shirt made the green flecks in his eyes pop and the blue seem darker. Steve looked over at him once, eyebrows furrowing in deep thought as his eyes swiped over his outfit. From the black loafers to the midnight blue pants to the matching blazer and black shirt to the silver tie he had worn. In a few seconds, Bucky watched Steve’s confused face morph into one of amusement. 
“You wore her colours,” he declared with an annoyingly smug grin. He fixed his cuffs as he stared at Bucky who cleared his throat at the accusation. 
Bucky felt his cheeks warm with the obvious choice. It was unintentional at first, picking out the silver tie and blue blazer, but Bucky had realized soon enough that they were your signature colours. He was looking for your colours when he shopped. He had stopped and picked out a few blazers in different styles and some with patterns, but they had all been a dark blue colour. His ties at the last few events had some incoherent swirls of silver. His hair had been swept to the side since you had complimented it styles like that. 
Bucky ignored Steve’s expression and gruffed out, “We should go.” Steve somehow agreed and started for the door, but stopped short with his hand on the knob. 
“You should tell her how you feel tonight,” Steve said gently before twisting the knob and stepping into the hallway. Bucky could hear the loud metal music blasting through the Compound then, his door wide open as Steve made his way down the hall towards what Tony liked to call the party room. Bucky swallowed thickly, the burning feeling back in his throat, and followed Steve down the hall. 
Steve stopped in front of the doors with a wicked grin. “Thor brought his Asgardian liquor,” he told him, emitting an easy grin from Bucky. That was a good thing, Bucky thought. If he had to face you tonight, talk to you maybe, he wouldn’t be able to do it sober. 
Steve pushed open the doors and spread out his arms to announce his arrival. Bucky rolled his eyes and pushed past him, straight to the bar where Natasha was standing with Clint while Thor made drinks. With the heavy music now over, a pop song that he had heard once or twice before playing, he could hear the clinks of glasses and chatters humming in the air. The dance floor was bustling with SHIELD agents that had been invited as per Tony’s request. He didn’t know all of them, but he could recognise a few as he walked by. 
“Ah, Bucky!” Clint greeted, patting him on the back and drawing him nearer. His hand was wrapped around a bottle of vodka that Bucky was sure was Natasha’s favourite. It was the strongest stuff in the bar—other than the Asgardian liquor, of course. “Settle a debate for us, will ya?” Bucky inwardly grimaced at the smell of vodka on his breath and slightly pulled back. 
“What’s it?” Bucky asked, looking between the three of them with a grin. He leaned against the bar island just as Thor came over with Asgardian liquor. He dropped a small pail of ice near him and nodded at it. Bucky nodded back his thanks. 
“How long that guy’ll last here,” Clint said with a loopy grin. He took a swing out of the bottle, looking over at Natasha with a wag of his eyebrows. “I say two weeks before he runs.” Bucky took a sip of his drink, eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting to Natasha for answers. Clint was clearly teetering on the brink of tipsy and drunk, slurring his words together. Natasha was perched on the stool with a sober expression on her face while her eyes were fixed on Bucky. 
“Wait,” Bucky breathed out with a light chuckle, “who are we talkin’ about?” He pushed off the island and looked at Natasha expectantly. The pop music had turned into slow, smooth jazz-type of music that was almost sensual. Natasha leaned forward, towards Bucky as if she was going to share a secret. To his surprise and confusion, Natasha’s eyes softened with something close to pity. 
“Y/N’s boyfriend, Sohan,” she whispered, her emerald eyes flickering towards the dance floor. 
Bucky’s eyes followed her eyesight, painfully slowly, to the dance floor where you danced with Sohan. He was a dark-haired and dark-eyed man with lightly tanned skin. The blood rushed to his ears, heart thudding violently in his ears as he watched Sohan lean in towards you. He looked away before your lips made contact. He felt as if someone had dumped that pail of ice down his back. A shiver licked up his spine and he downed his drink, eyes and throat burning with the harsh liquor. 
“So, what d’you think, Buckaroo?” Clint asked and leaned forward to lay on the island, oblivious to the feelings coursing through Bucky. 
Bucky slammed his glass down loudly enough to grab Thor’s attention. “Get me the whole bottle, please,” he gritted out angrily. Thor looked uncomfortable with the glance Natasha sent him, but he gave over one of the few bottles he had brought with the scowl setting onto Bucky’s face.
 Bucky swiped the bottle off the table and popped open the cork. He put it to his mouth and looked over his shoulder to see you speaking into Sohan’s ear. His eyes quickly drank you in. The black dress you wore had a corset that clung to your torso and accentuated your curves. The tulle flared out slightly and the fabric underneath it was decorated with delicate gold accents. 
They were his colours. 
He spun around and chugged faster, ignoring the look Thor was giving Natasha. 
“Two hours,” Bucky muttered out and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His throat felt like it was on fire. Somewhere, in the more logical side of his brain, he knew he shouldn’t drink so fast. Thor’s eyebrows pinched in concern when he saw the half empty bottle. 
“Bucky, I think that—” Thor cut himself off at the withering glare Bucky sent his way. Before Bucky had a chance to feel guilty about his behaviour, Thor turned away with a small smile to attend to another attendee. 
Bucky bitterly reminded himself that he had no reason to be angry at anyone, but himself. The slow songs changed into heavy rock again, Tony’s enthusiastic voice echoing amongst the drums and guitars. He brought up his hand to run it through his hair, shaking with emotions he couldn’t place. It wasn’t pure anger or jealousy. Heartbreak perhaps. He took another large gulp and felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder. 
He looked over, a scowl on his face and intentions to tell the person to fuck off, but the words died on his lips when he saw your face. 
Your lips were painted a deep red and stretched out into a gentle smile. Your hair tumbled down in soft curls that made him want to hide his face in it. A smither of glitter on your nose and peaks of your cheekbones highlight your face, contrasting it from the smokey eyeshadow and black eyeliner coating your eyes. He hadn’t noticed the sheer fabric that covered your stomach, showing off skin when the light hit it just right.The urge to spin you around, kiss your cheeks, lips, neck, was strong. He held back. 
He could tell you put effort into your makeup so he grinned through his heartbreak and said, “Don’t you look like something outta a fairytale?” He wasn’t sure if you would fall into the category of pretty princesses or of attractive villains. His thoughts were muddled, even more so with the liquor starting to take effect. He would regret drinking so much in the morning. If he made it through the night, at least. 
“Thank you, Buck,” you said with a grin. He couldn’t just call it a grin though, not when it set every fiber of his body on fire. His head spun when you let your eyes glide over his body through hooded lids. “You look handsome, too.” 
Your fingers delicately pressed into his shoulder before sliding towards his neck to adjust his collar and then his ties. He could feel your hand burn through his shirt, branding his skin with your print, resting it just over his heart. He could have sworn he felt an electric shock course through his veins when you patted his chest. When you grinned, the teasing one that you sent him during boring meetings, he felt his shoulders relax from their tense state. He grinned back automatically, forgetting about his breaking heart and the man you were here with when you were looking at him just like you looked at him before. 
“How are you?” You asked, pulling away and waving to Thor. You acted as if nothing was wrong. As if he was the only one who felt the heat of tension and urges of desire, laced with sweetness. He still tasted the bitter remnants of the Asgardian liquor on his tongue, hoping you wouldn’t be able to smell it. 
“Good,” he replied simply. There was no need to tell you how much he had changed. You didn’t need to know that his sleep was nonexistent when you didn’t text back. His attitude, his recovery, his emotions that had grown, those were all hidden on the tip of his lying tongue. He was not okay, but you didn’t need to know that. 
“I’m glad, Bucky.” Your hand landed on his forearm to squeeze it lightly. Thor placed two drinks in front of you with a wink, glasses clinking on the marble as he slid them towards you. You smiled at him, a little dimmer than the one you sent Bucky right after. “Wanna meet Sohan? He’s really sweet.” 
He wanted to say no. “Sure, darlin’.” There was no way he could say no to you when you looked so endearingly adorable. Lips pulling wider a bit and eyes lighting up with relief, you looked around the crowd. You gestured to Sohan to come over when you saw him. He excused himself from Tony and sauntered over to you with a grin Bucky knew meant he was cocky. 
Bucky’s gut dropped. 
“Hey, princess,” Sohan started and patted your lower back in greeting. He nodded his head at Bucky with a slightly smaller smile, one that held a linger of smirk. “You must be the famous Bucky Barnes.” He extended a hand towards him. 
Bucky refrained from cringing and gripped his hand. It was a little tighter than he usually would have held someone’s hand, but he was sure it wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t notice that it was his metal hand until Sohan’s eyes widened. 
“Fuck!” Sohan whipped his hand back with a howl, holding it to his chest. You were by his side immediately, hands on his bicep and face, gently prying his hand away from his chest to inspect it. No marks or bruises appeared, no broken bones were heard cracked. Yet your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, seeking out any hurting places with the tips of your finger pressing in. 
Bucky watched with a stoic face, knowing that he hadn’t pressed in too hard. It was for show. He could see the way Sohan’s eyes quickly darted over you in admiration, brown eyes twinkling. He could feel Natasha’s eyes on him and, out of the corner of his eye, saw her exchange a glance with Thor. Steve had appeared sometime before for a drink, now standing beside Bucky with his chest puffed out and ready to defend, no doubt. Once you were done checking his hand, you pulled away with a small smile on your lips, looking at Bucky. 
“He’s all good,” you said simply, grabbing your drink and taking a sip. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat, tongue darting out to lick his dry lips. His hand gripped the neck of his bottle a little tighter when Sohan opened his mouth. 
“Could be more careful with that death trap,” he muttered bitterly, sending a glance over Bucky’s shoulder and looking at Steve once. Bucky scowled at Sohan. Before Steve or Natasha could say anything to defend Bucky, you turned to Sohan with a glare. 
“Say anything to him and you’re done interning for me,” you bit out through gritted teeth. Bucky’s eyes flickered to you in surprise. 
Interning. He was a fucking intern. Not your goddamn boyfriend. 
He slammed his bottle once on the counter and turned to Natasha with a newly found emotion of betrayal and anger, ignoring the other four pairs of eyes on him. Those glances she gave Thor when he heard her tell Bucky that Sohan was your boyfriend suddenly made sense. It clicked in his head that it was her plan. Natasha fucking Romanoff wanted him to feel his heart break. He didn’t know why just yet, but he was going to find out sooner or later. Whether it be a calm conversation on comfortable sofas or a quick spar on the mat to beat it out of her—she never took the easy way out anyway. 
Your hand wrapped around his hand on the bottle, gently pulling his fingers off of its neck and intertwining your hands together. Your other hand came to cup his chin, tenderly pressing your palm into his cheek and forcing him to face you. When he didn’t budge, glowering at Natasha with a murderous fire in his eyes, he felt your body heat envelop him in its embrace. Your lips brushed over his earlobe, a shudder running through his body at the contact and a shaky exhale making its escape from his lips. 
“Let’s go to our spot, yeah?” You whispered into his ear. Your breath was hot and cool at the same time. He absentmindedly nodded and let your hand guide him out of his chair and out of the room, leaving behind a gaping Sohan. He would beat the reasons out of Natasha tomorrow or the day after, depending on what happens with you. 
You reached the doors to the balcony and pushed them open to be hit with the cool night air, the smell of summer in the air. You sighed lovingly and dragged him along to the edge of it, looking over the trees and the landscape of the city in the distance. The crescent moon and stars twinkled overhead, disappearing the closer they got to the city lighting. He watched you close your eyes and breath in the scent of leaves and plants before looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. 
He shook his head and muttered out, “Nothing.” Your face pinched in pain at his response. You let go of his hand and gripped the railing, turning your face away from him. He felt a stab under his rib. “Y/N?” He placed his hand—his metal hand—over yours, inflicting a mild squeeze in hopes of providing some solace. He wasn’t ready for you to turn back to him with unshed tears in your eyes. Another stab-like feeling ensued in his chest.
“Who is she?” You raised a hand to wipe your tears away, carefully so you didn’t smudge eyeliner and mascara, before they fell. You averted your eyes once again, looking down below at the parking lot. His blazer crinkled and his loafers skid as he turned to lean his side on the railing. He tilted his head down, placing his warm hand under your chin and tipped your head back slightly so that he could meet your gaze. 
Eyebrows furrowing, he asked, “What?” He had had half a bottle of Asgardian liquor in under five minutes and he was starting to feel it start to hit him, but he was sure it hadn’t muddled his mind that much. Not to the point where he forgot someone. 
“The woman you’re in love with,” you mumbled out slowly. Bucky blinked once and then again, eyebrows now furrowing further in together. His lips curled down in a frown, hands coming down and seizing yours. You shifted to mimic his position, letting him lace your fingers together. 
“Come again?” His voice was low and rough, more puzzle pieces joining together the more he racked his gears. He stepped closer to you, the skirt of your dress brushing his pants. His hands itched to touch your waist, your hips, and feel your skin through the opaque fabric covering you. He wanted to pull you close, wrap his arms around you, kiss your neck, but he could control those urges right now. 
“Natasha said you were in love with someone,” you mumbled, eyes dropping to his tie. Of course, Natasha was involved somehow. “Steve said you had been for a while when I asked him.” Bucky wanted to groan in frustration. Steve probably told you that because he had been in love with you for years now. A long while. Bucky had loved you for a long time, but never had he had the courage to say it out loud. 
You slid your hands out of his grasp and fixed his tie. He gave in to one of his urges and placed his hands on your hips, being respectful of where his hands were placed. He didn’t want to read this wrong. Your tears and the questions you asked, even the way you ghosted him three weeks ago, made sense. His senses were working well enough for him to know what you were feeling. He felt his lips tug into a smirk, a little mischief seeking through his demeanor and into the sober moment you two were having. 
“I do love her,” he whispered and gripped your hips a bit tighter each time he spoke. “I’ve loved her for a while. A long time. Ever since I met her. She’s so incredible and kind and gentle, but she doesn’t take any shit from me.” 
He thought back to the few times you broke the news of his past, affirming that those things weren't and were never going to be his fault. He took a step closer to you, loafers disappearing into your tulle skirt. Your heels bumped his shoes, breath hitching at the closing proximity. One of his hands slipped behind to your lower back, index finger drawing slow and deliberate swirls on you. Your hands shook as you raised them to his face, thumb caressing his cheekbones and fingers lightly tracing his jaw. 
“She’ll tell me it exactly how it is and she knows exactly what I need. She’s funny and her laugh makes me want to keep making her laugh.”
His eyes darted down to your lips, remembering the giggles that had left your lips for every sarcastic comment he had passed during any boring meetings. How he had mourned the loss of your laughter when you had left for Greece. His tongue licked his lips as he watched your lips curl upwards. He raised his eyes to meet your teary gaze. This time he knew it was a good thing. His heart soared into his throat. 
“She loves my friends like her family, she saves people with her talents, and she cares for me.” His hands cupped your face and he leaned down closer to you. “Her name is Y/N and I love her with every breath I take.” 
“You do?” You choked out, an airy chuckle escaping your lips. 
Bucky nodded and whispered, “Yeah, I love you, Y/N. I love you, darlin’, so much.” His lips landed on your forehead, mumbling promises and some more declarations of love against your skin. 
You pulled away from him, eyes twinkling with tears and happiness. “I love you, too, Bucky.” Bucky’s shoulders fell with his next deep exhale, thumbs swiping over your cheeks and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He saw your eyes flicker down to his lips twice and he absentmindedly ran his thumb along your bottom lip. 
“You’re drunk,” you managed to whisper against the pad of his thumb. He pulled back a little, letting go of your face and placing his hands on your hips. He knew you weren’t rejecting him—just conscious of the fact that he had had a bottle in his hand, halfway empty. He spun you two around a bit to have your back against the railing. 
“Doesn’t matter. ‘A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts’,” he mumbled, shrugging. He let go of your hips. He was giving you a way out of this if you wanted it, taking half a step back. You took a second to think about it. 
He was about to tell you that it was okay if you wanted to go back in and talk about this tomorrow—after he beat Natasha in a spar—when you moved. Your hands brought his head down and your lips connected with his. He groaned at the contact, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close and leave no inch of space between your bodies. He heard the little noises you let out, moaning and whimpering into the kiss. Those little sounds of his made his head spin and his body heat with desire. He picked you up, arms wrapped just under your ass. Tilting back and stepping backwards, his back hit the wall near the door. 
Only then did you two pull away, chests heaving and breaths mingling together. 
“You wore my colours,” you breathed out. 
“You wore mine,” he said huskily, two finger tracing the ribbons that tied your corset together.
———
Taglist: @pinkposttragedy @gen-genevieve
394 notes · View notes
spiderfunkz · 2 months
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✦ I HATE YOU, NOT.
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summary : you hated peter, but you still wrote him an 'apology' letter anyway.
word count : 0,7k
warnings : fluff, angst ish, established relationship, an arguement, i think that's it tee hee.
a/n : inspired by the poem from '10 things i hate about you' !! my requests for peter are open so feel free to send in your thoughts 🙃
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it was storming.
the pouring rain and the clouds of thunder outside your apartment matched the situation that was building inside.
you rarely argued with peter. and when you do, it was always as a joke, it was never serious, ever.
the last time you argued was over coffee. when peter wanted to buy you a drink before he got home from taking photos for 'the daily bugle'. a job you begged for peter to quit, knowing that there are other newspapers willing to pay him more.
that was another silly argument you had that just ended up with jameson's head printed near your bedroom window the next day by peter.
"no, bub. espresso is much better." peter stated. you remember you replied with a snarky comment, which made peter defend his statement even more.
"absolutely not. you're crazy."
"says the person who can't even drink espresso!" you heard peter's laugh from the other side of the phone. "i add milk! it's not that different!" you reply, "that's called a latte, sweetheart." peter says — you hung up immediately after.
but this time there was no joke to laugh about. no stupid topic to debate about, no unserious competitions. only frustration ran through your body.
"okay! fine then!" you snap.
peter was almost taken aback, you've been quiet the entire time. "get out of my apartment, parker."
peter froze, as if he just finally realized everything he has said to you over the past 25 minutes.
in your defense, it wasn't your fault. but it wasn't entirely peter's fault either. you were both in a bad mood, and one small remark turned into this. neither of you knew it was going to become a huge argument.
"get out. parker." you yelled, you didn't care it was raining outside. he'll figure it out.
you could see peter's face before he slammed the door shut. he seemed regretful, but it was too late anyways.
fuck. you need coffee, no milk.
a few hours went by, then one day, and then it turned into 5 days.
all you've seen in the past 5 days are empty cups of coffee, the laundry basket piling up, the non-stop rain, and those soggy flowers that keep appearing by the fire escape.
you knew it was from peter.
it was one of peter's ways of showing love to you. he did it loads of times before. on the mornings of your birthdays, some days of your anniversary, and just days where peter knows you're having a hard time.
and being spider-man has its perks, one of them being he can trash your fire escape whenever. with those flowers getting mushy from overwatering by the rain, and those crumpled up pieces of paper with ink smudging.
letters from peter.
you realized it was his handwriting pretty quickly, but you were petty. so you chose to ignore it for a while.
until today.
you couldn't stand being mad over your boyfriend for too long. especially with those flowers slowly piling up in your fire escape along with those letters. and your phone wallpaper being peter smiling so widely wasn't helping either.
you miss him.
and after looking at those letters from peter getting ruined by the rain on your fire escape. you decide to write him one.
a letter, one where you're sorry.
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for peter,
i hate it when we fight, and the way you always apologize first.
i hate how much i miss you, and how i couldn't show it.
i hate how i miss your stupid hair, and your stupid smile. i hate how i miss your touch and how you make my heart run a mile.
i hate how i even miss the moments where you'd come into my apartment like a wounded puppy, i've always hated how you make me worry. and i hate how you never fail to make me smile even if you're all bloody.
i hate the way you caress my cheek and the way my face burns from your touch.
i hate how i can feel your eyes on me when i look away. and i hate how much i'm in love with you, and the way i miss your nerdy jokes.
i hate how much love you give me, so much it makes me sick.
i hate it when you're not around, especially because you didn't call.
but mostly i hate the way i don't hate you,
not even close,
not even a little bit,
not even at all.
p.s i kept the flowers, and the ruined letters. and call me. i miss your voice. 💋
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170 notes · View notes
blessedwithabadomen · 3 months
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The Hands of Temptation
Oli Sykes x Reader x Noah Sebastian • smut 🔥 • 3.7k words
Hi!! This is my first time writing both Oli and Noah because I've been bloody obsessed with them since they started this tour together and I'm already working on a longer story with several chapters because I'm nowhere near done with these two!! I hope you enjoy this, comments and reblogs and asks would be lovely and soooo appreciated 💗
•••
Taking time off from work to follow a tour wasn’t exactly anything new to you. Live music had been your saving grace for years and you’d basically started travelling to see shows as soon as you’d turned old enough to rent hotel rooms. It was a lifestyle you were well adjusted to. This tour, however, still held a sense of excitement and novelty that wasn’t even remotely comparable to those you’d done in the past - mainly because this time, you were following your boyfriend’s tour.
Your train had gotten into Cardiff terribly late, leaving you to hop into a cab immediately and all but dump your suitcase in Oli’s dressing room before roaming the venue to find him. You waved to several people you’d gotten to know over the past months you’d been dating Oli until someone pointed you into a direction that seemed promising and then finally, finally the arms you’d been missing so much were wrapped around your body.
In fact, you had barely registered that you had found the right place when you were pressed agains a solid chest, strong hands keeping you in his embrace, a familiar scent infiltrating your nose. You relaxed into him immediately, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you let all tension go, holding onto the man you loved.
“Missed you so much,” he mumbled into you hair, pressing a soft short kiss to it before letting you go. You finally took all of him in.
He was prepared for the show already, dressed in his stage outfit, in all red, a cropped jacket and nothing underneath. You let your hands run over the skin on his belly, moving upwards to rest them on his chest. He smirked down at you, only reluctantly taking hold of your wrists and removing himself from your touch.
“Love, if you don’t keep your hands off me, I’ll never get on stage.”
You made a second attempt, allowing him to let go of you just for you to immediately reach for him again, but he was quicker. With a surprisingly smooth move, he had you pinned against the wall behind you, hands over your head, lingering close but not touching in any other way than to keep you still.
“Don’t pretend like you’re not enjoying this,” you teased back.
“That’s why I need to keep you at arm’s length. Because in a minute, I’ll be enjoying this too much.”
Oli pressed his lips to yours, soft and strong at the same time, and you wanted nothing more than to deepen the kiss, but as quickly as he was on you, he was gone again.
“Now be a good girl and behave. Until after the show.”
The door flying open was as unexpected as it was shocking, making you jump slightly under Oli’s grip. Both of you turned your heads toward the intruder, which turned out to be none other than Noah Sebastian, looking like a deer in the headlights. Oli didn’t even pretend to let go of you a little.
“Wrong fucking room, Noah,” Oli shouted, but not without a grin on his face. It seemed to pull Noah out of his stupor. He shook his head, clearly amused at the situation, giving you one more look before shutting the door again.
But oh, you’d seen something in his eyes.
•••
It was over halfway through Bring Me The Horizon’s set, which you were watching with awe and love from the side of the stage, hidden away from the view of everyone apart from the band itself, when Noah made his next appearance. You knew from Oli that he was going to go on stage with him for Antivist, but he was a little early and you couldn’t help but wonder if you played a part in that.
“Noah, but I think you already know that,” he said as he offered you his hand. Your eyes travelled over the tattoo there, how it made his large hand look almost delicately beautiful, before taking it. You almost jerked away when his skin touched yours, an electric current making its way through your body and ending right between your legs.
When you looked up at his face again, you knew you weren’t the only one who felt it. He quickly pulled back, as if your touch was fire to his skin. For a moment, you genuinely questioned why. Then you remembered he had seen you with Oli. He had no reason to know it was fair game still.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you were staring at each other when a stage hand appeared out of nowhere to let him know he was going to be on in a minute. All you could do was quickly tell him your name in return before he took his place, put on his mask, and seconds later, walked out onto the stage to roaring applause.
The two of them were a force to behold together. You couldn’t take your eyes off them. Their voices, their performance, their energy. You wondered how all of it would translate to an entirely different domain.
•••
For some reason, you were still backstage. The show had ended a little while ago and usually, Oli would be impatient to leave, get you to a hotel room and do everything he’d been promising to do for you for weeks, but instead, you both lingered. You were in his lap, leaning against his chest, his hands possessively tracing over your legs, and when you saw Noah take a seat opposite you, you wondered if this had been Oli’s plan all along.
Noah had buried his head in his phone, but you could easily see him glancing over the edge of the screen again and again. You noticed a movement from your boyfriend, a cough, and suddenly the backstage room was empty bar the three of you. Oli pulled you a little closer. You could feel his heartbeat against your back and you wondered if it was the same for him.
“Trust me?” he asked, as if it was any question at all. If there was one thing our whole relationship centered around it was the idea of full, unquestionable, all-enveloping trust. It had always been detrimental for you, but being in an open realtionship now, there was simply no way for it to work without it. So yes, you trusted him, fully, with your whole being. Whatever he was planning, whatever he wanted to do to you, with you, for you, he knew your limits as well as your kinks and fantasies. So you melted into his arms, ready and willing for him to take the reigns.
“Good show, Noah,” Oli turned to him. Any secret spying over the edge of his phone screen was immediately abandoned to openly stare back at your boyfriend… and you. It removed all other thoughts from your brain, your ears suddenly unable to take in the small talk they were pretending to have, as you felt yourself coming alive under Noah’s eyes.
Under Noah’s eyes and Oli’s hands. His fingers were toying with your fishnet tights, pulling at the strings and letting it snap back against your skin, the warmth of his hands seeping through, becoming bolder, moving all over. There was no break in the conversation, no sign that he was affected at all, as he put his hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading them apart, but you could feel him against you, growing harder already. Noah gulped audibly which would have gotten a chuckle out of you if Oli hadn’t chosen that moment to toy with the soft fabric of your hotpants.
Noah was apparently losing the gift of speech quickly, as his sentences made less and less sense, ridden with fillers and pauses, eyes flicking up and down your body. You were happy to indulge him. Spreading your legs a little further still, Oli chuckled into your ear, obviously amused at you being so eager, and let his fingers slip under the crotch of your shorts. It was a tight squeeze that had you gasping at the sudden intensity of his touch, even through your panties, but it had the desired effect on Noah, who stood up rather abruptly, then sat back down as the realisation dawned that his pants left nothing to the imagination anymore, a pillow thrown into his lap. You couldn’t help but sigh at the idea of getting a little closer to the very thing tenting his fabric now.
“You wanna fuck her, don’t you?” Oli said, voice still fully under control as his fingers moved slightly against your heat. “Seen the way you look at my girlfriend. Were you gonna do anything about that or just go back to your room and jack off?”
Noah was back on his feet now, wincing slightly as he held the pillow closer, as if it made any difference at all, a defensive stance as he took a step back. “Listen, Oli, I’m sorry, I know she’s your girl, I wasn’t-”
Oli’s laugh stopped him dead in his tracks.
“Sit the fuck down, Noah.” In his apparent confusion, he did as told. “I love this one more than anything,” Oli said, pressing a quick kiss to your hair that added a flutter to your stomach that, for once, had nothing to do with his hand between your legs. “But you know how it is. We don’t always see each other a lot. Tour, recording, her work. So we’ve got an agreement. When we’re apart, we’re free to fuck other people. Well… we’re not apart right now, but we might try something new. Isn’t that right, love?” You could only nod, more than ready to go with whatever he was planning. “Don’t you wanna take Noah here back to our room? While I watch? Bet he can fuck you real good.”
Noah’s pillow was all but forgotten. You didn’t know him very well, but he didn’t seem like the type to be lost for words very often, but now, not a single sound managed to leave his mouth as he stared at you, Oli’s hand between your thighs, Oli’s face, back to yours, as if waiting for someone to jump up and call it all a prank.
When it didn’t come, his reaction was clear.
“I’ll call a taxi.”
•••
Hooking up with a stranger wasn’t new. Hooking up with Noah Sebastian while your boyfriend was sitting in an armchair in the corner of the hotel room watching your every move proved to be very different. His eyes seemed to be burning holes into you and if you had been any less sure that he was more than into this, it would have made you self-conscious.
But Noah was looking down at you with hunger and desire and it made your skin prickle in a way that had you anticipating his every move.
“No kissing on the mouth,” you explained. It was the one rule that you and Oli had given each other and you’d never disregarded it. As far as you knew, neither had he. “Apart from that…” You slung your arms around his neck, pulling him slightly down to you, letting your breath hit his ear as you spoke. “...do with me whatever you like.”
He didn’t wait for any further invitation. His lips were on your neck, a soft kiss turning into a bite within seconds, his arms wrapping around you, hands coming to rest on your ass. You sighed into him as your fingers tangled into his hair, but he didn’t indulge you for long. Walking you backwards, step by step, you felt him lift his head away from you, only for him to push you onto the bed with such force that the mattress bounced under your body once, twice, before settling down.
Without letting you out of his sight, Noah started undressing. Your eyes were trained on him as he took off his shirt, revealing a body that had you even more impatient for what was to come, followed by his trousers, revealing a growing hard-on. You instinctively sat up, reaching out for him, but he gave you a simple look that had you listen to every word he didn’t even need to say.
When it came to undressing you, he abandoned all thoughts of being gentle. Your shirt was all but ripped from your body before he went to work on your shorts, pulling them down along with your fishnets. A gasp left your mouth as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, right where Oli’s had been just a little while ago.
Oli.
Your eyes wavered away from Noah as you turned your head toward your boyfriend. Oli had slid down the seat a little, eyes considerably darker than the last time you’d looked at them, mouth slightly open, palming himself over his trousers. He was a fucking vision.
“Eyes on me,” Noah barked, immediately making you turn back as he roughly pushed the cups of your bra down, not even bothering to remove the piece of clothing completely as his mouth descended on your breasts. You arched against him enthusiastically, hands back in his hair, as he flicked his tongue against your nipple, fingers massaging the other, then bit down on it with such sudden ferocity that you gasped and moaned all at once. Switching to your other tit, his movements remained unpredictable, keeping you on the edge as he varied between soft touches and harsh treatments.
“You love it, don’t you,” he mumbled against your neck as he peppered it with love bites that would surely bruise by tomorrow. “Having him watch us. Knowing I’m gonna fuck you until you scream. Knowing I get to touch all of you. That I’m gonna be the one to make you come undone. And all he can do it watch and wish it was him.”
All you could do was babble in nonsensical agreement, grasping at whatever flesh you could find, unable to focus on anything in particular, with his mouth on your neck, one of his hands still on your breast as the other started tugging at the waistband of your soaked panties, his dick hard against your leg. Your thighs wrapped around him on their own accord, you were barely aware of it, until he chuckled in your ear, calling you desperate. You knew you were. You didn’t mind. You knew Oli loved you like this, too.
“Can I eat you out?” The change in tone from Noah almost gave you whiplash. It amazed you how quickly he could switch from dominant, almost mean, to careful, attentive to you comfort. You nodded enthusiastically. Your panties were being dragged down your legs. “Spread those thighs for me, show us how wet you are.”
It was only when Noah slid down your body that you realised that Oli had not only gotten up from his seat, but had gotten rid of a majority of his clothes too, only his boxershorts remaining, one hand vanished underneath the fabric as he stroked himself, positioning his body closer to the bed to get a front-view seat of what was happening. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but having another man go down on you, touch you, kiss and bite the insides of your thighs as your boyfriend watched, so obviously turned on by the sight of it all, had you feeling close to climax long before Noah actually slipped his tongue into you.
It was unexpected. You had anticipated it on your clit, perhaps sloppily licking against you, but instead it was inside of you and fuck, he knew what he was doing.
You could have spent eternity with his head between your legs, but as good as his tongue and his fingers were against and inside and all over you, you desperately needed more. Clawing at the back of his head, you pulled him up, groaning at the sight of his chin, his mouth covered in your wetness. It almost made you want him to continue.
“Please, Noah,” you whined instead, “more, I need you.”
You didn’t know where Oli had kept the condom, but it was being handed to Noah the second he moved, as your boyfriend climbed onto the bed next to you. Leaning down to you, he put a hand on your throat, lightly enough not to choke, but with enough pressure to let you know he was there. It distracted you enough that it came as a surprise when you felt Noah’s dick push against you. Your legs fell apart once more and as soon as he started entering you, you were reduced to nothing more but a moaning mess.
“Fuck her hard.”
Noah didn’t hesitate. As soon as he filled you up, he set up a hard, punishing rhythm that had you moving up and down the bed with every thrust. He was so big inside of you that you were sure he would be able to split you in two if he tried and you loved it. His groans were spurring you on further, lost in the way he was trying to hold on as he fucked you, your boyfriend’s hand still on you, then another hand on your clit, you weren’t sure whose, it didn’t matter. You felt yourself getting closer, closer, but it wasn’t quite getting you there, so close to the edge but something was missing, your nails clawing at whatever you could find.
“Kiss her,” Oli decided.
Noah almost faltered in his rhythm, almost.
You looked up at Oli, questions filling your brain as your brows furrowed, wanting to ask if he was sure about this, if he really wanted to cross that line, making sure that he wasn’t just saying it in the heat of the moment, but he nodded and you believed what you saw in his eyes. It was all you needed to grab onto the back of Noah’s neck and pull him to you, his lips meeting yours in frenzied movements as he never ceased fucking you roughly.
It worked immediately. With his mouth on yours and his tongue still carrying your taste, he gave you a searing kiss that had you falling apart. Just like he had told you earlier, you almost screamed as you came onto his dick and he relentlessly fucked you through it until you were whimpering, begging for a break, your whole body shaking.
“Fuck, love, I’m gonna need to shag you,” Oli groaned. “You’re so fucking hot.”
Noah pulled out of you, almost leaving you crying at the sudden emptiness, and your mind was still a whirlwind as two sets of hands started manipulating your body, pushing and pulling at you, with care but firmly, until you were in the desired position.
“Gonna suck me off while he fucks you?” Noah asked. He was sitting in front of you now, stroking his large dick, begging you to do for him what he had just done for you, as Oli pushed you on all fours, ass up toward him. You couldn’t even answer Noah before your boyfriend entered you. There was no time for you to come down or for your body to recover as Oli started fucking you, aided by the wetness Noah had caused between your thighs. You quickly nodded at the younger man, moving his hands away to envelop his dick with your mouth.
He shouldn’t have tasted that good, he really shouldn’t have, but as he started rutting up against you, all you could do was relax your throat as much as possible and take him deep, swallowing it all, enjoying the heaviness of it on your tongue. Noah’s hand in your hair pushed you down further. Oli had no qualms about taking what he needed either. His fingers were digging into your hips, holding you just the way he wanted you, thrusting into you again and again to the point where you knew you’d have trouble walking tomorrow. It immediately made the fire in your belly start up again, rising to a crescendo in record time.
“You gonna come again?” Oli grunted from behind you. “You gonna suck him off and come on my dick?”
You wanted to nod, you wanted to answer him, but all you could do was hum in agreement. The vibration was enough to set Noah off as he came, low groans accompanying him coming down your throat in spurts, and you did your best to swallow it all, licking him clean when he finally let go of your head. Oli immediately doubled his efforts, fucking you faster and harder and you didn’t think it was going to get any better until he told you to touch yourself. You obeyed.
Squeezing around him was all it took for Oli to shoot his load. Holding you tightly in place, he chanted you name as he filled you up. You came again, sobbing, your arms failing to hold you up anymore, fully collapsing on the bed. He carefully pulled out, making sure you landed safely on the mattress, harsh fingertips now soft.
You knew you needed to get cleaned up, get settled properly, but exhaustion and pure satisfaction came over you in equal waves, so you stayed, lying on your front, a serene smile on your face. Oli was next to you, on his back, turning his head just enough to grin widely at you. Taking your hand, he left a sweet kiss on your palm.
There was some shuffling behind you and when you lifted your head just enough to see, you realised that Noah was halfway out the bed already. Quickly reaching out for him, you stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Hey, don’t go.”
He looked back at you and Oli. He was entirely fucked out but now that the passion was fading, he seemed almost insecure at intruding.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna-”
“Whatever my girl says goes,” Oli commented.
Noah only took one more second before dropping back into bed with the two of you, slinging an arm around your middle and hugging close to you.
“Wouldn’t have taken you for a cuddler,” you grinned as Oli mirrored his movements from the other side, effectively caging you into the safest embrace you’d ever known.
“I’m sure there’s a lot left to find out,” he chuckled.
Oli laughed from behind you. “Good thing we got the rest of tour to have fun with that.”
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genericpuff · 3 months
Text
Lore Olympus Episode 265 Betrays the Series' Own Messages of Consent
I've been keeping it on the down low lately with new episodes of LO, both for the sake of my mental health and because LO itself has just become so... pointless and boring. There's only so much to say when nothing is happening, and in that regard, I will preface this with a "congratulations" towards Rachel, because she's finally found a way to best the "haters" - make the comic so boring that there's nothing worth talking about to begin with.
At first glance I thought this was going to be another one of those episodes. Good job, Rachel, you managed to pad out another episode with pointless fluff to get you closer to that looming end date. Just keep dragging, just keep dragging, just keep dragging-
But the longer I sat on it, and read the comments and posts about it in discussion circles, the more I've realized that this episode in particular has a load of issues that I don't feel good just sitting on and not talking about. Primarily because, over the course of about 90% of this episode's length, we see Lore Olympus - and Rachel - slyly undo everything that ever mattered in its subtext about consent, healthy relationships, and strong communication.
Granted, Lore Olympus has never exactly been the poster child for those things, but it's trying to be, so we're going to dissect it with an equal amount of scrutiny. It wants to be taken seriously, so I'm going to take it seriously and criticize it seriously.
CONTENT WARNING: EPISODE 265 SPOILERS AHEAD, AS WELL AS DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, MENTAL HEALTH, GROOMING, AND SYMPTOMS OF MANIA, PROCEED WITH CAUTION
Episode 265 opens with an attempt at plot progression, returning to Morpheus who, last we checked, had been targeted by Kronos as the cliffhanger for Episode 259 before being shoved aside entirely for multiple episodes worth of Demophoon, pool-fucking, and a vision from Hera.
Honestly, I won't waste my 30 image limit on the episode's opening sequence because it accomplishes absolutely nothing. And by the time it starts to try and state what that goal is, it transitions away, because Rachel has the attention span of a squirrel on meth and having Morpheus state what her plan is would just be too much dedicated writing for her at this point, she needs another week at least to figure it out.
So instead we get exactly what was promised in the FastPass previews - the entire episode is spent, yet again, on Hades and Persephone, with the exact same topics, conclusions, and terrible sex as the pool scene.
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Seriously, this might be a nitpick, but I'm so tired of Persephone not being allowed to swear. We've seen other characters swear. We've even had Kronos call her a "dumb fucking bitch". But this "girlboss" character who we're supposed to believe has "agency" can't be allowed to swear even when they're in an ACTUALLY STRESSFUL SITUATION? You know purity culture isn't exclusive to sex, right, Rachel? If you're gonna deconstruct it, maybe don't have the poster child of that deconstruction be relegated to a church girl? She's literally the Queen of the Underworld - adjacent to the ruler of Hell - let her fucking swear LMAO
Anyways, we see very quickly that Persephone is still feeling the ill effects of her anxiety that she was feeling in the last episode. Anxiety that, by the way, caused her to pass out. Please keep that in mind, don't let it escape.
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And what is she stressing over? The genocide? The fact that they still don't have an actual solution to the ongoing "plague"?
Nah. The sleep dive. She's stressing over her husband doing the sleep dive again and - like last time - turning into a dad-possessed monster.
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As always, the fear and anxiety is in no way linked to the actual devastation happening outside - it's just concern for the main male lead, because that's all Persephone's character and thoughts and opinions and "agency" can revolve around.
But uh. Remember that scene where Hades got possessed by Kronos and literally strangled her? Remember that scene I just asked you to keep in your brain about her panic attacks getting so bad she's been passing out?
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Hello? No? Okay. Next.
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I hate, I loathe, I detest this dialogue. Not because it's cliche as fuck - it is - but because the whole "I trust you, it's just xyz I don't trust" shit has been overplayed and debunked as a plausible response in relationship communication for years now.
We talked about this back during our discussion of Leuce - how it shouldn't matter if Persephone doesn't trust Leuce because ultimately Leuce can't do anything to her or Hades' relationship if it's built on as much "trust" as she claims it is, trusting Hades is all that should matter full stop - and it repeats itself here, albeit with Hades' dad instead of his canon first wife. This is a copout. Relationships actually built on trust can definitely still be worried about the issues posed by other people, but if you trust your partner, if you truly trust your partner, that's it. That's where the sentence ends. No shit you don't trust Kronos, we've been over this song and dance multiple times before and while he's definitely a bigger real threat than Leuce, your distrust for Kronos has nothing to do with how you're communicating with your partner who knows there's likely no other way and a solution has to be found. Nothing's being accomplished at this point from Persephone moping around and having sex with her husband, and he's showing 10x more initiative in actually finding a solution - even if it means putting his own safety at risk - than Persephone.
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I didn't edit any of that, those are the legit real panels. Literally what the fuck is this dialogue, my tinfoil hat theory about LO being written by ChatGPT is becoming more and more plausible and I hate that, my crackpot theories shouldn't actually become reality.
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Is there an owl in here?
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LO is just spinning its wheels over the exact same conversation and points that have already been made. Nothing is being accomplished here, it's just more moping and going over the same problems - the centre of which being "what about H x P's relationship?? :(((("
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All of that repetitive meandering and moping for "okay fine but if anything feels weird, get out" "okay". It, again, accomplishes nothing that couldn't have been accomplished during the pool scene.
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And now we get this line. "I experienced greed in that way, and you do not possess it." Don't be alarmed if you were confused, I was confused too, as were many people in the discussion circles. Thanks to the ULO Discord, I realized she was talking about Apollo. She's literally comparing him to Apollo.
"After all this time, I can't comprehend you causing me harm. I've been at the receiving end of harm so I would know" is literally all she's trying to say. And even with it translated... I don't really like the implications of it at all. This has been a problem since S1, but there's always been this subtext in LO that because Hades didn't rape her, that somehow makes him less abusive or a better partner for Persephone than Apollo, that's all the SA has really been trying to achieve.
But Hades is abusive. He's intentionally pursued women who are in a crisis. He's trapped women in financial dependency. He's sabotaged women from having power and status on the same level as him.
And now, we're about to see actual abuse from Hades - the subtle kind that demands co-dependency, but is still abuse, full stop - but it's being framed as "romantic".
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"Being an Originals creator was my big chance to prove myself, and I flopped"- wait sorry I misread. We're talking about Persephone failing at being Queen. Yeah, she definitely flopped. And it goes to show her true intentions in wanting to be Queen, now that she's hit rock bottom and isn't putting on a brave PR face - she wanted to become Queen not to make the Underworld a better place, not to be an example of being a better ruler among a gallery of scumbags, but to "prove" that she could belong and be one of the big guys, that she could be more than just a cereal box mascot.
Don't get me wrong, I can absolutely get wanting to rise above the odds and "prove" to everyone that you can be more than people's perceptions of you, but becoming the literal ruler of a realm that you then go on to destroy due to your own hubris, just to whine and cry about it and have your husband and your colleagues and your friends carry the burden of that destruction on your behalf... therapy would have been a better first step to overcoming those insecurities, not taking control over the lives of innocent people.
Especially when Persephone DID have status and power before becoming Queen, it just wasn't the specific kind of status and power she wanted. She was only a trust fund child with a huge net worth, a full-ride scholarship, and everything she could ever need provided to her with little struggle to get it - but she didn't have control over other people so it just wasn't good enough.
This is the perspective and attitude of a 19 year old who never matured. Who never could mature because she transitioned from her mother's control into Hades'. There were far better ways to prove herself, ways that we had seen her try to do, only to drop so she could pursue her co-dependent relationship with Hades - she gave up her schooling, gave up her apartment (which we only see her use maybe 2-3 times), gave up so many of her connections and support so she could be with Hades.
This is the result of 5 years of real-time grooming that we're seeing play out.
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No, you are just saying them because she's your wife. You'd be saying it to Minthe, or Leuce, or Hera, or any other woman in Persephone's position because it's not about taking accountability, it's about keeping these women in a position of submissiveness and co-dependency, by giving them reassurance that nothing they ever do is wrong and that he's the only one that can give them that freedom from consequences.
And then we get the reinforcement.
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I'm gonna spare you all the cringe of the actual sex scene (and yes, they do straight up go into having onscreen sex and it's... not hot at all), but here's some of the dialogue spoken by Hades during the entire sequence:
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Again, let's remember the actual situation that led up to this and the position Persephone is currently in. For the third time Persephone has "accidentally" killed thousands of people. Over the past few episodes we've seen her try to realize how so many of these problems have been her fault and she clearly doesn't know how to make things right (and Rachel has made it obvious how much she doesn't want you to agree with this kind of self-awareness because much of it is being said through the mouthpiece of a rapist). And now we have Hades, reinforcing the thought patterns that would prevent her from growing and learning and changing. In this, a comic that's supposed to be "feminist", a comic that's trying to preach the importance of consent, a comic that's trying to make us believe this is a healthy, consenting relationship with strong communication skills.
These are literally grooming tactics. Hades is reinforcing the same thought patterns that will prevent Persephone from acknowledging her errors and mistakes. People are dying and Hades is telling her that if anyone has anything to say about it, they deserve to die anyways. The same man who literally rewarded her with sex for vandalizing a nymph's home is now telling her that she's not cruel, but kind:
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Hades might not be Apollo, but he literally choked her out less than a week ago while possessed by his dad, and for the last SEVERAL episodes he's had the starry skin making him resemble who? Oh yeah, his dad.
Hades is literally holding Persephone in the same position Kronos did, while she's experiencing a literal meltdown that she's trying to stuff deep down - in fact, exhibiting a LOT of symptoms of mania - and initiating sex.
Doesn't this feel a little familiar?
Oh right, but he asks her if she's "still okay" mid sex only AFTER initiating chokehold sex with her without her consent and love-bombing her, so it's fine, clearly.
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I remember being 17 years old and reading Fifty Shades of Grey for the first time, and even then understanding fully how toxic their relationship was. I can only hope the teenagers in Rachel's comment section can realize that as well, but judging by the comment section, I'm not holding out hope. This is literally "fifty shades of fucked up" material, and what's worse is that I can't tell if Rachel genuinely thinks this is healthy, or just doesn't realize how unhealthy it's coming across as. Even beyond how "cringe" this sequence is, it enters into the realm of being deeply uncomfortable and unsettling, and it needs to be talked about, Rachel can't be let off the hook for this especially when this is supposed to be, again, a comic that's intending to "deconstruct purity culture" and teach young girls about consent and boundaries.
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And that's it, that's the end of the episode. It reads like the manifesto of a villain in the making at the hands of a predator, like Anakin being manipulated by Palpatine - "so long as you're with me, you'll have all the power, all the glory, and everyone else will be crushed underneath your heel."
Is that really the message we really want to come away from LO from? That it's fine for husbands to initiate sex with their wives through trauma-bonding and reinforcement of toxic thought patterns rooted in grooming because... they're married? That being a "girlboss" means sabotaging and abusing anyone who you perceive as a threat?
Is Hades really that much different from Apollo? Because so far, the line between his actions and Apollo's are seriously starting to blur. The parallels between Persephone and his past partners - Minthe and Hera - have always been clear, but they've never been quite so loud as last night's episode.
This is Hades' play, the play of a groomer and an abuser who depends on making their victims dependent on them - taking advantage of women while they're in a crisis.
For Minthe, it was financial - she had lost her job, blamed it on him, and he found a way to "solve her problem" that strategically put her into a position where she had to continue to financially depend on him for what's assumed to at least be a year or longer, through her apartment, her bills, and her job.
For Hera, it was emotional - she had chosen Zeus over him, and instead of addressing her marital concerns within the marriage, she participated in an affair with Hades in an attempt to have what she could have had if she had chosen Hades instead, a man who resembles her own abuser. Not only did this put her into a much more vulnerable position than him - if the affair was found out, Hera would have suffered the consequences far more than Hades - but it's also manifested itself into Persephone, who Hera has been using as a stand-in for herself, even going so far as to manipulate Persephone's image and how she goes about her decision-making, from intentionally pulling the strings to get Persephone a job with Hades so she could get closer to him as a "test" for Hades, to forcing Persephone to wear a wedding dress she wanted her to wear over the one Persephone had actually picked out herself.
And now there's Persephone, the newest addition to the cycle of abuse and untreated trauma, the true culmination of Hades' years trapping and manipulating women - financially dependent on him, emotionally dependent on him, and only where she is because she's made her entire identity revolve around him.
I'm not going to psychoanalyze Rachel in any way, I don't want anyone to think that this is permission to do so because Rachel's personal life is her own and I want to examine the material rather than the person. But so much of LO gives me such a gross impression that Rachel herself never matured past middle school, that she never grew beyond the mindset of being a 13 year old girl who felt like the entire world was against her and that no one could understand her, that she never gained the perspective most adults do by the time they're 25 at minimum after they've entered the "real world" and had the lived experiences that make you realize "wow, that girl I hated in high school for stealing my crush from me probably wasn't as bad as I thought she was and we were all just teenagers trying to navigate the hellscape that is adolescence."
And instead of actually analyzing those thought patterns and mindsets, Rachel is instead reinforcing it in her own audience of 13 year old girls and teenagers who will only hopefully maybe outgrow it and not just repeat the cycle themselves.
And this isn't entirely on Rachel's shoulders. It's on the shoulders of E.L. James, of Stephanie Meyer, of Colleen Hoover, of every "young adult" romance author who's peddled this strictly heteronormative "submission culture but not like the 1950's kind I swear" crap, that women should only aspire to find the richest man they can bag in their pursuit for power and after that everything in the world is owed to them and any problem they have can be solved by riding dick. Trauma? Solved. Genocide? Solved. The very real consequences of your own actions that affect others to such a degree that it will be felt for decades? Solved. Just ride that dick and get that money, girlboss.
Just like 50 Shades of Grey, if Lore Olympus was any other story, it would be a tragedy. It would be a masterclass in understanding and showcasing the signs of emotional abuse, financial abuse, grooming, trauma-bonding, love-bombing, and enforcing co-dependent habits for the sake of trapping people. It would be a precautionary tale to young girls to stay alert and be wary of older men, that men like Hades are depending on girls to fall for their tricks, their praise, their affirmations that they're so mature for their age, that they're not like other girls, that they would just be so set for life if they spent all their time and attention with them, so that they can "have it all".
I can only hope that even a third of the young girls who read LO naturally grow up, gain perspective, and learn that LO isn't the pillar of healthy relationships and consent that it tries to be. It's certainly a common thing to see these days, for people to join the UnpopularLoreOlympus / #antiloreolympus community with sentiments that they started reading it at age 14 and then (thankfully) learned that what LO was preaching wasn't healthy.
But for every other girl who doesn't realize this, it's reinforcement of the same cycles - the cycle of women being only objects for sex, pitting themselves against one another, confusing gender empowerment with abuse towards others, and making their entire identity revolve around a man and justifying it as healthy so long as it makes them rich and powerful.
Even if Rachel some day gets her own head out of her ass and realizes what damage she's causing in her audience, like Persephone committing genocide, no amount of self-awareness will undo the consequences. She'll still have the awards, the money, the accolades, everything she's gained off the backs of Greek myth, feminism, and good faith from an immature audience who doesn't know any better and isn't being given the tools to understand.
Even if she realizes that, that's something she's going to have to live with for the rest of her career.
And it's a fucking tragedy.
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storiesbysoup · 1 year
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Weighted Blanket.
lieutenant simon "ghost" riley x reader. 1743 word count. extra: for the millionth time, i am so so so sorry that part 2 is taking so long!! but!!! i've got my motivation back to write, case in point this little guy, so i'm gonna start working on part 2 again! also, for those of you who have put in requests, i will be getting to those! sorry for the wait! &lt;;3 MASTERLIST.
SYNOPSIS: Simon returns home after a night out with the guys to find you, overwhelmed and frankly almost done wit everything. He holds you.
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Simon never truly anticipated being out as late as he had been the last few weeks until tonight. He'd thought that staying out until ten, maybe eleven, would not carry as much strain on you as it did but he was sorely mistaken. You were stressed but far more than what he initially had guessed.
He had gone out with the other members of the Task Force, watching as Soap got nearly black-out drunk and Price managed to embarrass Gaz more than needed after a single comment. These nights were ones he enjoyed, filled with cheers and Soap trying to play wing-man for the other members. When he tried for Simon, the poor Scot nearly had his tongue ripped out at the mere thought.
The high tolerance his body had to alcohol was something he really appreciated. He never drank much when he was coming home to you, with your aversion to alcohol as a whole being one thing that you had heavily expressed. He respected you far too much to deny you the smallest requests; he loved you far too much.
Now, at a strong 2 o’clock in the morning, he tried to sneak himself into your shared little apartment with little success. You were sat at the kitchen table, head propped up on an arm as tears strung themselves from your cheeks. You were in college, taking much harder classes than you needed to because of your counselor and their ridiculous choices for what you needed to take within a single semester. Shoulders heavy with both stress and exhaustion, you barely registered the fact he had walked into the apartment. 
Oh, he hated this. He hated seeing you overwhelmed like this. Hardened brown eyes softened as your tears fell down against the marble counter, forming little puddles underneath your quivering lip. You wiped at your face, cleaning it off before continuing the work at hand. It was something Simon never really understood, formula after formula of things that he would never even try to comprehend. 
Thankful that he didn’t reek of alcohol, Simon stepped closer to you ever so slowly until his hand made contact with your back. The feeling of your clothed skin jolting alarmed him in the worst way possible but he ignored it for a moment, letting his thumb rub circles around the muscles that had tensed within your back. Sympathy was the only thing he felt: he remembered when he began the military, all the studying they had him do to learn simple things. It was preposterous, but needed.
Your exhausted eyes dragged themselves from the homework at hand to Simon himself, watching him as he stared down at you with his silly black balaclava. A soft laugh escaped you at the sight. No matter what, when he was in public he would hide his face with some kind of face covering: that being a balaclava or a simple mask. As long as his identity was hidden to the world. He let your fingers trail up against the silk-like textures as you hooked one finger underneath the mask.
One finger turned into two, then three and four until your hands themselves were tugging it up and above his lips. Eyes meeting in the middle, yours asking the simplest of questions and his responding with an answer before you continued. The scruff of his unshaven beard scratched at your hands as you cupped his cheeks with your palms, allowing your tired gaze to pin it to memory before continuing to drag it off. One by one his features were revealed to your gaze.
This wasn’t the first time you’d seen Simons face – far from it, actually – but it was the first time you’d gotten to take the mask off. You believed he was scared of what you’d say, of what you’d do if he let you. That’s why you were so gentle with him, taking your time to let him be comfortable with the new concept of you taking his mask off. His breath was shaky but he refused to move: you were the one who needed him, not the other way around.
When the mask came off, you nearly cried. It’d been so long since you’d last gotten to view your lovers face that you’d nearly forgotten, though it was heavily exaggerated as his face was the most beautiful drawing in all of history. He leaned in, knowing what you craved immediately and latching his lips to yours. Typically the ‘welcome home’ kiss he gave you was passionate and hungry, craving more and more of your plump lips but this one was different.
This kiss was soft, gentle: it was loving. He took his time when kissing you, a hand coming up to support the back of your neck as he sighed out. Simon pulled back shortly after, pressing his forehead against yours as his brown eyes bore into your own. You both were exhausted in your own regards, you with homework and Simon with his military work. He and the rest of the team were on leave as of right now, but you couldn’t help but sympathize with the man that stood in your hands. 
“Baby… oh, my baby…”
The tears that had subsided were now re-emerging at the gentleness of his voice, your arms slipping down to wrap around his neck. You pulled yourself into him, letting out a confused noise as he picked you up by the thighs and held you against his body. You underestimated just how strong he was due to his training, but appreciated it nonetheless as you sighed. The sniffled sounds of you trying to apologize for crying against his body were drowned out by him shushing you.
A silent walk comforted you as he carried you towards the dark bedroom that sat in the back of the apartment. You didn’t mind the darkness that comforted the back of the little home, especially with how bright the rest of the apartment had been throughout the day. Simon laid you down on your back, laughing softly at the whine you made in response due to the lack of his warmth. He turned back, taking off his outdoor clothes and changing quickly into a t-shirt and his boxers. 
He laid beside you, motioning towards his chest. “Come here… lay your head on my chest, love.” It wasn’t an offer, more of a demand though you accepted it graciously. Your head slid against the warmth of his chest, allowing your ear to press against the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Simon slowed his breathing to a calmer one, hands pressed against the warmth of your back. He watched as your head rose and fell with his chest. “Wrap my arms around you like this…”
Simons arms were one of your favorite things about him in general. Strong, wide warms with more muscle than he could do with that held you so delicately. There were times that he would refer to you as ‘little pet’ or something of the sort, and you constantly questioned it. Why, of all pet-names, did he choose the embarrassing ones? It wasn’t until you had the chance to ask Price who filled you in.
Apparently, it was a slang word that was used throughout Britain for a partner. Price had said it was a playful term for someone you feel affection towards: someone you love. You felt loved by Simon no matter what he did, but felt your heart grow at least a size when you learned such a thing. He was such a softie on the inside…
“Are you okay, baby? Hey, just relax ‘n breathe for a bit, yea?”
His hand traced your hair, letting you intake his masculine everything as he holds you. It never failed to amaze you just how easily he could calm you down, even after a rough day. His lips graced the crown of your head, allowing you to feel him against your skin directly. Your eyes flicker upwards as you look at him, the soft smile on his face melting your heart. 
“I’ll take care of you, baby. I’ve got you now, you’re okay; we’ll tackle this together. Nice ‘nd slow…”
One of his hands brushed against your cheekbone, brushing against the gentle skin as his wide brown eyes admired your face. He sighed out, the breath coming from his nose tickling your face and causing you to giggle. “God, you’re so beautiful… I am so fucking lucky to have you in my life.” This was more emotion than Simon had shown you in a majority of your relationship. You didn’t view it was odd, more so just as his way of expressing himself. Emotions were something Simon was still gaining traction with, and the progress he was making showed itself proudly.
“I love you.”
The both of you interrupted each other with the same words, both stopping before bursting into a fit of giggles as you held each other. His gentleness had warmed up your sour mood to the point where you felt ready to tackle your work once more. You knew Simon wouldn’t let you until you’ve relaxed for at least a few hours, but you were still proud of the small accomplishments you had made.
Simon pressed his lips to your forehead once again, rubbing his thumbs against your skin just as he had before. “I love you, pet.” That pet-name sent shivers down your spine as you kissed at his skin. You’d never get to see this treatment in front of others, as he kept this side of him more personal and to the two of you. Away from prying eyes, Simon was much more expressive than what others believed. He cracked jokes often and poked fun at you all throughout the day. 
You sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that night, burying your face into the warm heat of his body. Every piece of him felt perfect when lined up against you, and you loved it more than anything else. He was like your own version of a weighted blanket, except he could talk and move instead of simply sitting there and being heavy. Truth be told, the two of you were like weighted blankets for each other: sometimes he would come home for a night or two and ask you to simply lay on him. The pressure you gave his body would relieve the pain and tenseness that clutched his shoulders and back.
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written by storiesbysoup© 2023. I do not condone anyone translating my works and/or stealing them.
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dawnisdreamlanding · 5 months
Text
CHAPTER 2
Ghost x Reader x Konig
Neighbor! and Roommate!au hehe
About me | Masterlist |
Author's note: Happy Hanukkah! I'd like to say THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT FOR THE FIRST PART AAAA!! I've been wanting to write fanfics for agess but I was always too nervous to hahahdsf so all the support means so much to me, especially for it being my first fic. But less talk, more story, I hope you enjoy part 2! <3
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‘Why am I meeting so many tall, buff guys today? Well, not that I’m complaining,’ you chuckle inwardly. Konig’s so tall that when he greets you, he bends down slightly. Talk about being short. You mentally shake that thought away before smiling and telling him to follow you to your apartment.
Everything goes smoothly, and he ends up moving into your apartment the following week. It takes him a couple of days and a little head-banging on the door frame due to his height for him to get used to your shared apartment.
It’s been a month since then. You learn he’s from Austria, and he starts to call you ‘Maus’ which was self-explanatory. But you never really learned anything else other than that. So, to recap, both your neighbor and roommate are both silent and secretive. And they’re hot. You quickly shake that thought away. You shouldn’t be thinking about them like that!
Speaking of Simon, you haven’t seen him for a couple of days. You wonder what he’s doing. After a few extra moments of silence, you realized you’ve spaced out from doing your work. Your gaze lands on the long list of emails you’ll be needing to respond to by tonight, followed by the time on your computer on the bottom right of the screen. ‘7.43 pm’. Ugh, this looks like you’ll be staying back late in the office tonight.
It’s already been a few hours since the last of your coworkers said goodbye to you, and the office lights has been turned off except for your section of the office. The darkness surrounding the office was a little unsettling if you were being honest, but you pressed on with answering those emails. Your phone buzzing makes you jump in your seat and the bright screen in contrast to the surroundings makes you squint a little.
Oh, Konig’s calling. You pick up the call and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to hear someone’s voice after hours of overtime. The line’s a little staticky, but his voice comes through the phone. “Hello, Maus? Where are you?” Konig sounds worried. “Hey Konig!” You try to sound a little upbeat, but your exhaustion comes through nonetheless. “I’m working overtime tonight; I’ll be coming home late.”
Home. You don’t know when you started referring to your apartment as ‘home’, since you’ve always thought your apartment felt so soulless since you moved in. If you think hard about it, the emptiness of your apartment only ever seemed to disappear when Konig’s large frame started to fill in the empty space in your apartment. Despite not knowing much about Konig’s life, the two of you spend quality time together, bonding over shows on Netflix ranging from ‘The Good Place’ to ‘Emily In Paris’. Though you’d have to admit, the more mind-numbing the show is, the more entertaining it is when you hear all Konig’s quips and comments while the two of you watch it. God, you wish you were hanging out at home with Konig now.
“Maus?” Konig calls me once again, snapping me out of my train of thought. “H-huh? Sorry could you repeat that?” I reply. “It’s looks like its about to rain hard tonight, do you need me to bring you home?” his voice gets a little more staticky by the second, and you’re only able to get out a “it’s fine” before the power in the office shuts down.
“Oh hell no,” you say out loud to yourself. You watched enough horror game playthroughs to know that you’re not staying a second longer in office if you want to see another day. Your line gets cut off and you groan. If this isn’t the start of a horror movie.
You managed to exit the office without tripping in the darkness with being little on edge. Little droplets of rain start to fall to the ground, slowly painting the pavement a darker shade of grey with each drop. Your line comes back and you were seconds away from calling Konig to ask him to drive you back home but then a hulking figure leaving the nearby grocery store enters your field of vision.
You are quick to look at this guy because who the hell is he and why is he dressed in all black at night, looking like a robber? Oh my god is he a robber? Oh, it’s your neighbor, Simon. You should really stop bumping into him in such shady situations.
---
Simon ends up driving you back to your apartment complex. This time around, you try to talk to him the car ride there. In between the awkward silences, the two of you managed to bond over some shared bands playing on the radio and you learn that he’s from the military.
“’s not fair that they’re makin you work overtime like this.” Simon grumbles out. “Yeah well, what can I do? Besides, they pay me quite well.” You reply. It was true; the company you worked is quite taxing at times, but the benefits and pay holds you back from quitting.
“Well,” he inhales as he puts his car into park. “If you ever need a lift home, just let me know.” His offer puts a smile on your lips. For someone who you’ve gotten to really know in the span of a 20 minute car ride, he has a heart of gold. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
He has the manners to walk you back all the way to your apartment — you ignore the fact he lives literally right next to you — and makes sure you enter your apartment safely before unlocking his own door.
 You sigh and drop your bag onto the floor. Your eyelids feel really dry and the constant urge to get some shut eye makes the tasks of getting ready for bed seem to stretch on for far too long. Part of you debates on sacrificing dinner so you can sleep a little earlier but that’s when you hear Konig call out for you in the kitchen.
“Eat.” He speaks. “I cooked dinner for the both of us, but I didn’t know you were staying in the office.” A slight pang of guilt shoots through you at the thought of Konig waiting alone at the dinner table for you to come home. “Thanks, Konig.” I smile at him. “I’m glad to be home.”
Konig tries to ignore the warmth that creeps up on him during moments like these. His eyes naturally drink in the sight of you sitting across the table, happily munching on the food he’s cooked you. Fuck, maybe being a househusband wouldn’t be so bad, especially if its for you. He quickly shakes off that thought. He kills. He likes to kill. What was he even thinking?
“Emily in Paris?” he suggests when you finish your dinner. You sigh and shake your head. “Sorry, too tired, Ko.” The nickname slips out of your mouth so easily that you don’t notice it, but he does. His body freezes up and his brain short circuits. He’s so focused on the nickname you used for him that he doesn’t even feel sadness when you rejected his suggestion. He hums in acknowledgement.
“Maybe this weekend?” You say and he nods, watching you turn to head into your room. He decides not to tell you he’s leaving for work that weekend. Leaving to kill people. “Next weekend.” He confirms. You smile tiredly at him and the warm yellow light illuminates your features. “Goodnight, Konig.” God, he wishes you could call him Ko again. “Goodnight, Maus.”
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Taglist! @gojo-mochi
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draculasfavoritewife · 9 months
Text
Misconceptions
Summary: Traveling with the Mandalorian was always going to create false impressions -- if only they knew what he was like behind closed doors.
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader
Warnings: Reader being a bit of a tease, implied smut, heavy sensuality and SOFTNESS! Din is a bit of a soft dom (according to me).
So I came up with this idea on a road trip last year, when I read a theory about the concept of Mandalorian celibacy, and the dialogue generator in my brain went off the rails 😁. My personal headcanon is that while Mando is not a full-on dom like I've seen some write him, he does like to be somewhat in control so yeah.
*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end
You knew something was wrong the second he entered -- or rather,  stormed into -- the small room in the inn your little crew was occupying for the night. Normally even when fully armored he can move with surprising stealth, stalking his prey like a wild nexu on the prowl.
You've always wondered how he manages to not clank like a droid wherever he walks.
Now, though, none of that control softens the thud of his heavy footsteps as he passes you without even so much as a greeting and aimlessly unpacks his gear, taking no care to muffle the clatter of his personal arsenal before he chooses his pulse rifle to dismantle and start cleaning.
You approach him cautiously, noting the deadly sharp motions of his gloved hands and the stiff angles of his shoulders. He's quiet, much too quiet, only the crackle of his tight breaths sounding through his vocoder.
"Want some help?" you ask, keeping your own tone warm and flashing a brief smile at his gleaming helmet.
Silence.
Undeterred, you delicately pull his EE-3 carbine from the mess and seat yourself cross-legged near his feet, expertly taking it apart and starting to lovingly free it from the layers of buildup caused by frequent use.
A side glance reveals that his shoulders have loosened slightly, rolling forward as a longer breath drags from his lungs. He's not angry at you, as your unsolicited presence actually seems to have calmed him a tiny bit.
The pair of you work in the quiet for some time, only disturbed by the child whenever he toddles up to one or the other of you to eagerly show you some new insect he's found in the dust of your temporary lodging quarters.
"So," you finally say casually, not taking your eyes from the detailing of his rifle as you finish your task. "Want to talk about what's got you in such a snit?"
He snorts. "No."
"Din," you finally look up at him then, and see his head tilt towards you as it always does when his true name leaves your lips, "you know you don't have to shoulder everything yourself anymore. We're partners. I'm more than capable of carrying my share. What's happened?"
"It's nothing like that," he grumbles, his visor flicking away. "Someone just made me angry, is all."
You wait, opening your arms and lap to Grogu as he squeals and reaches for you. Din's already said more than he probably meant to, which means there's more coming.
You just have to wait for it.
He doesn't keep you waiting long, to both his surprise and yours. You've been wearing him down with your patience lately, it seems.
"Some piece of bantha fodder in the cantina made a comment about you after you took Grogu back up here," he mutters. "He had the GALL to ask me what I pay you."
You hear leather protesting as his dangerous hands clench into fists.
By what he leaves unsaid, you know the implications of the remark meant something much different than simply a relationship of business employment.
You blink up at him, oddly more touched by his rage towards the scum who would suggest such a thing than bothered by the story itself.
"If we weren't already trying to keep a low profile here, Cyar'ika, I would have stuffed those words back down his vile throat until he choked on them."
You rise to your feet, Grogu still cradled to your chest, trying to deny that you find his threat on your behalf so arousing. "Well, I can't decide whether to be insulted or flattered. I never thought I could pass for a courtesan."
"You're not helping" he tells you dryly. "And you know that's a load of bantha."
With a grin, you take the child to his little bed in the next room, and place your palms against the Mandalorian's cool beskar breastplate when you return. "I'm sorry for joking about it, ner'cyare. And I'm sorry you have to hear people speculating about our relationship. I wish they could keep those thoughts to themselves."
Letting your fingers drift upward to tug on his cowl, you add, "But it's not even as bad as what someone said to me while I was getting food for Grogu."
He goes rigid. "Tell me."
"Some old guy gave me a pitying look when he saw I was with you. Came over and basically said something along the lines of, 'Best to give up sooner rather than later, Sweetheart. You know those Mandalorians...they're CELIBATE.'"
Din's left speechless for a moment, and you can almost imagine his eyes blinking in shock.
"I...what...why...?"
You shrug carelessly and step away from his body, crouching down to reorganize his weapons where they lie forgotten on the floor. "It's just a rumor, Din. Since our people pick up foundlings all over the place and have so many rules of conduct. The galaxy's just jumped to the conclusion that our people don't actually engage in...intimacy, of any kind. I used to hear the same thing said about me, before I stopped wearing the armor."
He's quiet again, thoughtful as he draws the curtains across the window, shrouding the room in shadow. You allow a wicked grin to curve your lips for a moment, confident you've rerouted his focus from his earlier outrage.
A muted clank tells you he's removing his beskar now that it's dark.
"I hope I didn't offend you by relaying that story," you sing-song into the shadows behind you.
Nothing.
As soon as your guard is down, a pair of long arms has you in a durasteel grasp and you're lifted from the floor and tossed onto the bed before you can even make a sound.
"What's brought this on?" you half-laugh into his bare chest as he all but smothers you.
Hot lips tease your throat and rough hands crawl up your spine beneath your shirt, making you arch into him for more and wrap your legs around his hips.
"I'll show you who's celibate," he growls close to your mouth, punctuating his words with a kiss that hints at teeth. "Someone's asking to be reminded."
"Teach me a lesson, then, ner'alor," you hum into his hair, reverently inhaling the smell of leather, sweat, and smoke that always saturates his skin. Most times he protests your use of such an authoritative term for him, but when he's riled up, you know that some deep dark part of him likes it.
He needs no further urging, and soon both of your respective annoyances are long forgotten in the throes of bliss.
Much later, when the flames have cooled, you lie tangled together in the sheets, his head resting on your chest and your fingers lovingly working the knots out of his thick hair. As much as you yearn to someday look upon the face of the man you love so deeply, you can't deny that the darkness gives a gift of true closeness you might never have known in the seeing world. The flicker of his eyelashes against your skin and the way his now-tranquil breaths warm your body are enough in this moment, and no amount of credits could ever persuade you to give this up.
"Your helmet has really made a reptavian's nest of your hair this time, my love," you observe as your fingers catch in his curling locks for the umpteenth time.
"Mmm, most of that mess is your doing this time, Cyar'ika." Din's voice is husky, as it always gets when he's on the verge of sleep, but he sounds more at ease than he has in days, and you allow yourself to hope that he'll sleep through the night tonight, that his body will actually let him fully rest for once.
"At least I can undo that with time. I'm afraid once daylight comes, my new skin pattern won't be so easily hidden." You have a few suspicions already of where the bruising evidence of his zealous kiss blossoms across your flesh, and as you prefer to dress much lighter than your armored companion, such adornments do not go unseen.
"You love wearing my mark." There's the barest hint of smugness underlying his tone. "Don't try to pretend otherwise."
"...Alright, I won't." You reach down to toy with his mythosaur necklace, letting the tips of your fingers flit down his torso and feeling him pull you closer in response, his own hands settling into their place at the top of your hips. "Whatever other people might say, Din Djarin, I love you. Never doubt that."
"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Mesh'la."
You're about to drift off, there in his embrace, when a lonely chirp from the other room jolts you fully awake and you sigh.
"I'll go get him, Din."
"Hurry back," he murmurs, reluctantly releasing you from his warm hold.
You scrabble around in the blankets for a moment, unable to locate your clothes, until Din tosses his shirt at you. "Here, take mine."
You pull it over your head, feeling immediately oddly at home swimming in the folds of the massive piece of clothing. It's unexpectedly soft, well worn from years of use -- and abuse -- and it smells just like him. You smile to yourself as you crawl out of bed, the shirt's hem drifting to the tops of your thighs.
"Cover your eyes, I'm opening the door," you tell him.
"I'm not going to go blind from a sliver of light," he grumbles.
"Just thought I'd warn you." You push the door to your shared room open, about to go rescue Grogu from his solitude.
"Wait. Stay there."
You hear him dressing in the other half of his clothes, and the bed creaks as he rises. You instinctively let your eyes flutter shut as his quiet footsteps approach from behind.
"Just for a minute...I want to really look at you with my own eyes."
Your heartbeat quickens at that, and you realize then that he's never really seen you, either.
Through the visor of his helmet, sure, but he's never actually set eyes on you this vulnerable, this...undressed.
You're almost as much of a mystery to him as he is to you, intimately as you know each other.
It amazes you, the trust you've established between the two of you as he stands before you and his breath rustles your unkempt hair. He doesn't reach to cover your eyes himself, worried that you'll look at him without consent. He trusts that your love and respect for him is enough to keep your eyes softly closed.
He studies you, hands tracing down your arms and along the shape of your body covered in his dark shirt. His touch is light, almost shy as he takes the sight of you in. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that one day he would be standing here with someone like you, someone wearing his clothes, who loves him enough to share everything with him and not demand that he break his sacred creed before he's ready.
Someone who he wants, more than anything, to be his forever, to one day, if his life ever allows it, become his riduur.
The person that he almost -- almost -- for a second entertains the thought of telling to open her eyes, to really LOOK at him as he is, unmasked in the soft light of the hallway.
But he doesn't, not this time.
Someday.
You feel his hands frame your face, melt into the familiar calluses of his fingertips as his thumbs lightly caress along your cheekbones. You smile wistfully as he tenderly kisses your closed eyelids, then rests his forehead against yours in a keldabe kiss.
"Mesh'la," he hums quietly, and you can hear the hushed awe in his voice, the way he gets when he's overwhelmed by feelings he can't put into words. "Dank farrik, you're so lovely."
You shiver slightly at his words, feeling heat race to your skin. You don't know exactly why, but you've always loved the sound of his voice when he lets that particular expletive slip.
"Careful, Djarin," you murmur as your lips seek out his. "You don't want me asking for another round before you're ready."
"Why do you assume I'm not ready?" he teases, teeth catching playfully at your bottom lip as you pull back.
"Developing more of an appetite, I see." You rise on your tiptoes to brush your nose against his, grinning as always at the way his scruffy facial hair tickles your face.
"I had to, to keep up with you." His hands tighten on your waist, drawing you against his well-muscled body suggestively.
You reluctantly push away from him, though not before planting a kiss in the hollow where his throat meets his collarbone, a place you know drives him wild. "I do have to go. Your ad'ika wants his buir."
"That was a dirty trick, Mesh'la." He sounds put out, and a little pent up now.
You twist your finger in his necklace, before turning away so you can open your eyes and finally go rescue your foundling. "I'll make it up to you later, Cyare. I promise."
"Don't make me pay you," he deadpans, reminding you of the comment that first started off this very pleasurable evening.
You smirk, knowing he can hear it in your voice as you saunter away. "Oh, I'm very certain I'll get exactly what I want from you."
When you finally return, the child clutching the folds of your borrowed shirt, he's in bed again, so once the door is shut the darkness swallows you in its comforting shroud once more.
You listen to Grogu's happy squeaks as he clambers across from your chest to Din's, and the answering murmurs of his father. Content in the company of the two beings you love most in the galaxy, you stretch out to lie against your lover's warm body, relishing the temporary luxury of a soft mattress to sink into and room to spare. You're not going to wake up with kinks in your spine for the first time in forever.
"You should get a bigger bed on the ship," you suggest through a yawn. "This is awfully nice."
"What's wrong with mine?" He sounds offended, the fingers of his free hand searching until they find their way beneath the draping excess of his shirt that's still cocooning your form. It surprised you at first, probably surprised him too, just how much the man craves these rare spells of skin-to-skin contact, made all the more meaningful by his personal restrictions. You settle into his languid stroking before mustering a reply.
"It's just nice not to worry about falling off the bed when all three of us are together."
"I suppose," he concedes, pausing a moment to no doubt smile at the tiny snores of the now-sleeping child. "But there is something to be said for how close necessity draws us. Don't you roll away from me in the middle of the night."
"Or what, you big gundark, you won't pay me?"
He squeezes the soft part of your waist at your teasing. "Maybe I won't."
"That's a breach of contract." You tangle your legs with his and wrap your arms around his midsection, assuring him without words that you're not going anywhere. "Admit it, you'd like it too. Imagine a world where you don't wake up every morning with stiff muscles." You lazily start to knead into his back, soothing out the weariness and tension that like to take up permanent residence there.
He sighs appreciatively, breath hitching slightly whenever your ministrations encounter an especially stubborn knot. "I do not wake up EVERY morning with stiff muscles."
"Could've fooled me, with the amount of old-man groaning I hear whenever you get out of bed."
"I don't do that."
"Why do you think I always wake up when you leave, hmm?"
"Because you're incapable of keeping yourself warm and you need me to keep from freezing to death." His reply is certain, leaving no room for further rebuttal.
"Kriff. You do know me too well. You still sound like an old man in the mornings, though."
"Don't argue with me, Cyar'ika." Din's voice is warm, but his hand starts straying from platonic towards more intimate. "You're at a bit of a disadvantage."
"How so?" You shouldn't ask, but an impish desire to hear him actually voice his dangerous thoughts overpowers your common sense.
The smirk in his voice is audible. "You have a much more difficult time keeping quiet than I do. You wouldn't want to wake the kid now, would you?"
"Dank farrik."
He relents when you wordlessly concede, returning to a comforting caress rather than an instigating one.
You've almost dozed off again in your shared darkness when the mattress bucks as he hauls himself out of bed to take Grogu back to his own room. You gaze through half-closed eyes at his silhouette when he pauses, back-lit in the warm glow of the opened doorway. You take him in without detail for a brief moment, the curves of his well-defined shoulders and arms, the textured mess of his hair, the slope of his prominent nose. Your heart blossoms with the affection and passion this wounded, pure warrior ignites within you, and you are hit once more with the desire to truly see him, bare and in the light, all his barriers laid down for you.
He's the only man you would ever consider taking as riduur.
Someday.
Before you know it, your brave hunter has returned to your embrace, leaning over you and trapping you between his arms as he rests his scruffy cheek against your smooth one, the two of you allowing a long moment to simply breathe each other in, thankful once more to whichever gods you may believe in that for one more day, you are alive, and you belong to each other.
Then he rises to his knees and pulls you up with him, his breath warm on your skin.
"Don't ever leave me, Mesh'la," he whispers roughly into your throat.
Your head snaps back in delight at the sensations his mouth stirs within you, and your nails scrape across his scarred back in answer, drawing wordless sounds from deep in his chest.
"Never, ner'cyare. I would hunt you across the stars if ever we were parted."
He sighs, the movement of his body rocking yours. "Thank you."
"Can I keep this shirt?" you ask saucily.
"Yes." His hands curl around its hem and start lifting. "But take it off for now."
You hum questioningly as you allow him to guide the thick fabric over your head.
"After all," and his voice hardens, taking on the dogged quality that makes him the best there is at what he does.
"I haven't forgotten about that next round you promised, my love."
Ner'cyare = My beloved
Ner'alor = My leader/boss
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Mesh'la = I love you, Beautiful
Riduur = Spouse
Ad'ika = Little One/Small child
Buir = Parent
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esmedelacroix · 5 months
Text
Coffee Shop Love Pt.6
pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader
summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.
contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffy, not proofread, literally the fluffiest of fluffs, a little drama at the end
author's note: Hey lovies, whoo! Two chapters today! Consider it my apology for being so inactive lately. But don't worry loves I'm back on track. A like, comment, or repost is always appreciated. Hope you like this chapter, the cliffhanger not so much >.<, enjoy...
word count: 1.5k
Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth
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That morning you were so lost in the ridiculous amount of people coming for coffee that you didn't even realize that Miguel hadn't shown up that morning. "Which is so weird because he always comes for coffee in the morning, sometimes again midday then he comes at night and stays a while," you explained to Estella over muffins and Earl Grey tea.
"Alright girl, first of all, why are you this worried about it? It's probably nothing," Estella reassured.
"It can't be nothing, we slept together days ago when the blizzard happened, and he cuddled multiple times!" you exclaimed, as Estella almost choked on her drink.
"You had sex?!" she blurted out shockingly.
"No, no we just like, slept in the same bed, my bed," you muttered, trying to draw the attention away from the two of you.
"Wait, I'm confused, why was he even in your house?!" she questioned.
You explained the whole situation with the amber alert and filled her in on the day that you had spent with Miguel. The more you explained, the more her jaw dropped.
"Wait, now I'm confused, what is your relationship with him?" Estella asked, taking a bite out of a muffin.
"I'm not even sure, we've had this strange chemistry ever since we met," you explained.
"I'd say give a day or two maybe he's like, at work, or living his life?" she joked sarcastically.
"I'm gonna kill you, Estella! Get out of my shop!" you joked as you pushed her out. She laughed along and waved before heading back to the shelter where she worked.
Your break was over and the lunch rush was just about to happen. Still no Miguel, you were starting to wonder if you had done something wrong. No, it makes no sense to think that way, I know I did nothing. I wonder if he misses me this much as well, you thought to yourself as you began to make people's orders.
The day went by very slowly. You sat by the counter at 8 pm, chin propped up on your hand, as fatigue drooped your head down. Just then the bells rang. Your head shot up immediately hoping there would be a tall, dark, and handsome man standing there before you. But it was just Mr. Smith. Probably here to collect the rent. "Good Evening Baby, I've come here for something, but I forget what it is... maybe a drink?" he trails off as he looks up at the menu.
"No Mr. Smith, you're here for the rent. It's too late for you to have coffee," you explained. He smiled and nodded.
"That's right dear, silly me," he said. You handed him an envelope with the rent for the month and waved goodbye after sending him off with a candy cane.
You let out an exasperated sigh as you plopped into a chair and waited to see if Miguel would show up. Why do I miss him so much? What are my feelings for him? You asked yourself as you got up to lock up.
That night you slept wishing to see Miguel walk through those doors in the morning. But to no avail, he didn't show up that morning, or for lunch, or that night. You opened your phone for any notifications from him but nothing. You gave him a call but his phone was turned off. You decide to leave him a voicemail.
"Hey Miguel, It's been a while since we've seen each other. The shop’s really boring without you here, come by for a coffee soon, I know you can't go a single day without having like 3 cups, I miss you, and I'm pretty sure I like you" you said. You had no idea where that last part came from and you fumbled to delete it somehow but what was done was done. You hoped that he wouldn't listen to it. Besides he was a businessman he had better things to do.
That night you slept wondering where he was and why he would come see you. He was cuddling you one day, then you never saw him. Does he like me, or does he not? You asked yourself. You allowed your mind to rest and went to sleep.
The next morning you got through the rush just fine and went on break while mentally preparing yourself for the lunch rush. Miguel was nowhere to be seen but you didn't panic as much as the days before. You had hoped that maybe he would show up tonight and you would scold him for disappearing without notice.
So as you lay your head on the counter bored out of your mind, the shop bells rang. You headshot up as usual and there you saw him. Tall, dark, handsome, and stuck in the mistletoe again. "I told you, you have to get a taller door frame," he joked as walked in. You chuckled at his joke holding yourself back from rushing to him and hugging him.
"Where have you been Miguel?" you asked him softly, unable to wipe the upside-down smile off your face.
"Surprisingly enough, the second I walked into work I was rushed onto a last-minute retreat at another lab. It's one of those classified things where we turn our phones off. I'm sorry I could let you know Baby," he said softly.
"It's no problem, but this other lab... was it nice? Good coffee?" you asked skeptically.
"Yeah, it was alright—" Miguel started.
"Ha! I knew it! Miguel, have you been seeing another barista?" you jokingly asked him. Just then she heard a low sound break the silence between them. He had never fully laughed around her, but once she heard it, it was music to her ears. I would become a stand-up comedian if it meant hearing this beautiful laugh all day, you thought to yourself.
"Oh Baby, I've missed you so much," he confessed with a few chuckles.
"Alright then, sit down and lemme make you a coffee that will top whatever you drank at that 'other lab'," you said motioning for him to take a seat at his usual table.
Instead of taking his laptop out and getting straight to work, he just watched you. He watched you make the most simple but best coffee he had ever tasted. Once he took a sip, it felt like home. "This is that special brew you used at your place isn't it?" he asked with an amused smile.
"Yeah, I figured since you liked it so much, I would make you a nice big cup of it," you explained as you took a seat across from him.
You and Miguel caught each other up on the events that had passed while you were apart. Miguel couldn't stop talking about how much he learned at this fancy schmancy lab he visited with Alchemax in Washington D.C. and how much he learned about quantum physics. You didn't understand half of the terms he was using but that didn't matter because at least he was having a good time. Seeing him talking about something he was passionate about set fireworks off in your chest. You filled him in on the usual Café gossip and drama that was going on.
It was a lovely night of shared laughs and stories but it had to come to an end at some point. Just when he was about to leave you decided to ask him about the voicemail you had sent. "Miguel, did you ever listen to my voicemail?" you asked.
"No, I didn't have the time, should I?" he answered.
"No, just delete it. What I said was pretty embarrassing," you admitted.
"Well now I’m dying to hear it," he teased.
"Oh please don't," you whined.
"Too late!" he called out as he stepped out to his car and visibly pressed the button.
You begged God to allow the earth to swallow you whole and just began to wipe the counter. Just then the door swung open with violent speed and the bells rang crazily. You turned around to see Miguel out of breath holding his phone in one hand, running his hand through his hair with the other. "Baby?" he huffed completely out of breath from running back to the store the second he heard the voicemail.
"Did you mean what you said in that voicemail?" he asked in disbelief.
"I mean, yeah, I guess, but—" you started. But Miguel held his hand up for you to stop. you took that sudden motion as defeat. He doesn't think the same way, you realize in complete despair.
Next Pt.7...
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party-hearses · 29 days
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pairing: dieter bravo x gn!reader (no use of y/n, no reader descriptions)
rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI
wordcount: 600
summary: you (kind of) write dieter a letter.
warnings/tags: ANGST, mention of drugs and alcohol. i think that's all but please lmk if i forgot anything!
a/n: this is for @beskarandblasters phoebe bridgers/boygenius drabble challenge! and who would have guessed that not only is it the first thing i've written in almost 6 months, but that 600 words still took me far too long to complete. beta’d by the best bro in the entire world @bastardmandennis but she’s perfect so all mistakes are my own. comment and reblogs are appreciated if you enjoy!
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You watch, tongue between your teeth, as Dieter’s chest shallowly rises and falls from his crumpled place on the couch. 
Sunglasses still perched on the bridge of his nose, matted green robe tied loosely around his middle. 
The color of stomach bile, of envy, of resentment.
Crushed cans and empty liquor bottles litter the room like confetti — a party you’re no longer invited to, a celebration you’ve all but been cast out of. The light of the moon, too-full and too-round, bounces off the shimmering glass, casting brilliant beams of light across the angles of Dieter’s sleeping face. 
I love you, I don’t know why. 
A seedling planted at the base of your spine the moment you first pressed your lips to his, the growth nurtured by passing joints back and forth under the liminal space between late night and early morning, ‘I’m sorry’s murmured into the damp skin at the nape of your neck. 
Watering the sprouts of something that feels too much like exhaustion, until they stretch to a length that feels too much like suffocating. 
It was always going to end this way. 
Dieter — too charming, too personable, too manic, too much. Held hostage to his own impulses, all he knew how to do was put his teeth to your throat and take. Consume.
He stirs under the light of the moon, hands searching for something, anything, to ground him, the raucous shouts and clinking glasses of the party gone, now. The infinite emptiness of the room swallowing him whole, now. 
In another universe, you might have stayed to grasp his hand, to whisper i’m still here against his trembling fingertips. 
Are you still here? 
In another universe, he might have never taken you back to his trailer to pick you apart at the seams in the first place, to make you blush and squirm and whimper under the searing muscle of his tongue.
The possibilities filter past your eyes, a View-Master slide of every wouldbecouldbeshouldbe superimposed over the Dieter in this universe. The Dieter who wrapped the same tongue around the black hole of selfish, teeth scraping each letter into the tender flesh of your palm. 
Just another wannabe ingenue, chewed up and spit out by the fame machine, with nothing to show but a blossoming cocaine addiction and too much credit card debt. 
And what choice did either of you have, really, when you saw him on a pedestal and he saw you as an equal. A matching desperation to be seen, to be taken seriously in an industry that you didn’t take seriously. 
I know you, I know you, I know you on the back of every breath of sticky smoke exhaled over the twinkling view of the city from the rooftop. I know you, I know you, I know you. 
It was always going to end this way. 
His unruly brown waves are matted to his forehead, sweat-damp skin glistening like you’re looking at him through the lens of a kaleidoscope. 
You wonder how bad the hangover will be, how much his hands will shake as he rolls the first joint of the day, how long it will take him to notice. 
It can’t even be called a letter, really. A scrap of paper, what might have been a receipt at one point in time. Faded, sticky, oil-stained, now. Folded in half and tossed to rest on his chest, still rising and falling rhythmically. 
The loopy scrawl of your handwriting, weariness evident in every stroke that connects those four words. 
You don’t know me. 
It was always going to end this way.
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