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xoruffitup · 5 months

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A Reylo Retrospective (or: The Friends We Made Along the Way?)

After a New York City SNL weekend, I typically write a flaily recap of the incredible show experience on my way home. (See my unabashedly joyous recap posts from Adam’s 2018 and 2020 shows. :)) My friends and I sadly did not make it into the show this time, so I decided to write a recap post of a different kind. This is a retrospective of my years in Reylo/Adam fandom so far, and why they’ve been the best years of my life.

In December 2017, I saw TLJ in theaters for the first time. Like many of you reading this, my life was irrevocably changed in the span of those hours. We all remember the moment when we felt it happen. Maybe it was when Kylo took off his helmet in front of Snoke and bared those wounded eyes. Maybe it was the moment when all sound cut out and the first force bond opened. Maybe it was the moment Kylo appeared shirtless - hot and broad and so so vulnerable. Maybe (as it was for me) it was the moment when he and Rey locked eyes in the throne room, then turned back to back in a slow motion, world-tilting moment that changed everything. Without fail, this is always one of my favorite things to talk about with Reylo friends both new and old. Recalling the moment. That lightning strike of realization that you were seeing something that would indelibly change who you are.

It’s impossible to describe the experience to people who didn’t share in this particular epiphany. But whenever I attempt to do so, I usually phrase it something like this: When I say TLJ changed my life, I don’t just mean the movie itself. I mean that moment was a gateway. It connected me to a community, friendships, and experiences that would beautify and enrich my life in ways I could never have expected.

In June of 2018, I made a hare-brained trip to the Nantucket Film Festival, where Adam would be speaking on a panel with Noah. The event was small, located in a humble school auditorium. I sat in one of the first rows, mere seats away from Greta and Joanne. Adam came onto the stage, and he was everything and nothing I expected. Larger than life. Impossibly small compared to the explosive impact of his presence. An unassuming, compelling, inexplicable force that made my heart race and my stomach swoop. The impact of his presence is something I still can’t describe. This riveting, authentic persona; this irresistible gravity in the way he carries himself; the way he seems to hunch into a body that nonetheless strains the seams of the world around him. I couldn’t take my eyes off him the entire time, and my heart never calmed down. To this day, it still hasn’t.

Then came September of 2018: Adam’s second SNL appearance and what would be my first time attempting to go to the show. In the week leading up to the show, the undertaking truly gave the impression of insanity. I took an overnight bus to NYC on a Thursday night, and upon my arrival at 5 AM I went straight to join the Standby Line with my humongous backpack and all my things in tow. It was still dark, raining, and I truly contemplated my own sanity as I dug trash bags out from my backpack and bagged all my things in effort to keep everything dry. Then the sun rose, the rain petered out, the one internet friend I’d planned to meet there joined me in line, and as the Friday hours flew by, solidarity and excitement warmed the steadily-growing line.

When I think back to those ~24 hours of mania, I remember spontaneous pizza parties with new line friends; I remember spirited conversations in the midnight hours about Adam’s filmography and all our respective moments of epiphany that led to us being there - on a NYC street at midnight for a mere chance of watching our collective fave on SNL. I remember random Reylos watching our updates on twitter and sending us food, snacks, and Starbucks in line. (Literally never forget the bike delivery guy who, with a befuddled expression, announced he had a pizza delivery for “….the Reylos in the SNL line???”) I remember the camaraderie, the utter silliness, the crafting of homemade signs so the hundreds of passers-by would stop asking what we were there for. (Ours said ‘What: Saturday Night Live. Why: Kylo Ren.”) I remember the hours flying by, and the utter euphoria of it all - enough to keep us (mostly) warm in even the smallest hours of Saturday morning.

In the show’s Dress Rehearsal the next evening, I sat with three girls I’d never met before that weekend. They’re still three of my best friends to this day. We exchanged numbers after the show that evening and started a group chat (“Designated Adam Drivers,” obviously). In the five years since, every single day that group chat lit up my phone meant it would be a good day. In the years since then, we’ve shared countless experiences that would never have even knocked on my door of possibility, were it not for this miraculous thing called the Reylo/Adam gateway - that spark of recognition and understanding that turned us from strangers to soulmates.

Since then, we’ve shared almost an embarrassment of riches in terms of experiences together: Four in-person (one virtual) AITAF shows, five Burn This performances/stage doors, the profound highs and lows of the TROS London premiere, Adam’s January 2020 SNL show, Steven Colbert and Seth Meyers appearances, and an array of film festival premieres. (TIFF 2019 for Marriage Story and The Report; Cannes 2021 for Annette; Venice 2022 for White Noise.) Not to mention that last year I went to visit one of those 2018 SNL besties in Australia (along with the other Aussie bestie I met in the 2020 SNL line).

I realize the above list reflects privilege in terms of my opportunities and work flexibility to travel, and that someone could read the above and think I need to chill the fuck out. But I wrote out that list in attempt to convey the broadening of horizons, the ageless delight, and inexhaustible joy that such a shared passion brings into one’s life. It’s a bright beacon of the kind of excitement most people leave behind in childhood. It’s a reminder of the intangible sources of wonder and inspiration that come from within. It brings together people of disparate ages, backgrounds, and nationalities with a kind of innocent enthusiasm it often feels this world needs so much more of.

Of course, one could always argue this common binding spark is the foundation of fandom culture in general. But I’ve cycled through my fair share of other fandoms pre-Reylo/Adam, and nothing has ever compared to these wondrous heights. And going on six years since my personal TLJ moment, I still feel the conviction in my very toes that nothing else ever will.

In parallel to my real-life adventure squad, these last few years have also seen the cultivation of friendships with other Reylos and fic authors online. Never underestimate the power of a single AO3 comment or twitter DM to spark profound connection. What started as a group of online friends quickly transcended the bounds of cyber space. My “pocket friends” don’t just live in my phone; they’re the people I look forward to telling about my day, the ones I lean on in tough times, the ones whose support and love I know to be constant, no matter physical distance or timezones. They’ve become the indefatigable group of girlfriends my teenaged self might have dreamed up to feature in my adult life. And even as some of us may move on from Reylo/Star Wars, its ties are timeless and unbreakable. We are more than a group of people who cohabitated the same particular corner of the internet for a time. No, we’re kindred spirits who recognized in each other the same values, the same challenges and struggles, the same fears and anxieties, the same hopes and joys. We recognized and nurtured in each other that rare, safe space for our true selves. We were drawn together by this silly, fantastic shared obsession, and together built something real and true that grew well beyond it.

So why am I writing this terribly sappy and self-indulgent post, you wonder? Well, I suppose my motivation came from the bittersweet experience of this weekend. I suppose it came from the conflicted emotional response I had to not making SNL this time. It came from the moment I realized that while the disappointment felt crushing, I will nonetheless cherish this SNL weekend right alongside the others.

And why should that mean anything to you, dear reader? Why should you care about my sentimentality? Perhaps because - even if we’ve never spoken either in person or online - we each shared the moment, at one point or another. The moment that led us here - to me writing, you reading, to us sharing this particular little corner of the world. Perhaps because the highs and lows I experienced this weekend are not unlike the wins and losses we all share in this fandom space. The point of this post is not to wallow in temporary disappointment, but to celebrate how far we’ve come in this shared journey. The point is to cut through the haze and the frustration, the scandal and the hurt, to recall the purity of that shared emotion that first called us here. The point is to dedicate a moment of reflection for the love and enthusiasm that guided and shaped all this in the first place.

To many, Reylo is divisive, even maligned. Nothing we say or do can ever change their warped view. We can, however, know in our heart of hearts that we share something unique and powerful. We can support and love each other; we can see the best in each other. We can fill our shared corner of the world with that magic we each discovered when we stepped through that gateway for the very first time.

#Reylo #Adam Driver #The Last Jedi #SNL

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wri0thesley · 2 years

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Okay so, imagine being Diluc's doll darling.

You spend every day inside, wistfully staring out the window. You're dressed in fine silk and lace, things you could never hope to afford on your own, in styles you'd never choose for yourself. When Diluc isn't around, Adelinde is there to keep an eye on you. Her company was welcome, at first. Anyone was better than Diluc, right?

She treats you like a sacrificial lamb. Well cared for, but raised for slaughter. At times, you felt that you hate her just as much as your captor. At times, you felt you hate her more.

Diluc was out for the day, he wouldn't be back until midnight, Adelinde told you. You were forced to wait for him. You didn't have anything else to do, didn't have anyone but him.

If only you had a Vision...then maybe you could finally take back your life.

If only—

There's something in your hand. Could it be...? You look down in wonder as a Hydro Vision pulses in your palm.

With this...

Blood stained your blouse, washed away only partially by the water that surrounded you. Adelinde's lifeless body lies pathetically by your feet. You kick her, once, twice, for good measure. When she doesn't stir, you know it's time to leave.

It's only natural that the head maid has a master key. With this, you can go to Liyue. With this, you can be free.

Tartaglia notices you the second you step into the city. How could he not? You're just so cute, completely oblivious to the dried blood in your hair, on your shirt, under your fingernails. The way your hands twitch and your eyes dart around with barely concealed mania, he knows exactly what you've done.

You look just like he did back then, and he finds himself swooning in no time.

He just has to take you home.

OH... anon!! i LOVE this.

i was thinking that adelinde would certainly be a good choice for the scenario you mentioned; diluc is away so much on business that he can't exactly ignore that adelinde feels more like a gaoler even than your actual yandere; and she's so devoted to him. if he told her to kill you, perhaps he would? and without diluc there, and adelinde come to an unfortunate end (as you tell yourself over and over that she deserves) . . . you're free. especially with a brand new vision (it does not escape your notice that a hydro vision and a pyro vision react to one another. vapourise. you sometimes feel like nothing more than vapour, haunting the winery like a ghost).

and OHOHOHO. CHILDE. UGH.

he WOULD see you all covered in blood and empty of eye and immediately want you so so badly he can barely breathe. i believe this is what people would call; 'out of the frying pan, into the fire'.

#nat.txt #not sfw text #yandere for ts #genshin impact posting #i am thinking about this SO SO HARD #AND AND AND.#diluc coming back to find you #and finding you in the arms of a HARBINGER?#fkjgbnkjfg #death for ts #blood for ts

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kitausuret · 9 months

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Just saying: it brings soo much joy seeing someone get excited by Wanda after the whole cinematic experience.

That was my first encounter with the character and it really did not give a good first impression. And it only got worse with how they treated her and her own actor's obliviousness on the character's background (I will never say 'her character', she simply does not deserve that kind of recognition from me - yes, I am spiteful).

I do not know much about her 616 storyline, nor midnight for that matter, but despite that complete lack of knowledge I enjoy seeing you post about her. I may have originally come here for the Venom stuff but really anything you decide to share is what I stay here for.

Anyways, hiding behind the anon mask, I wish you a good day!

Hi anon! Thank you for your kind words; Wanda really was one of the first characters I got into with Marvel, long long before I cared about anything arachnid-themed (unless it was Julia Carpenter, since she was one of Wanda's teammates, haha). I'm fortunate that I met her character via comics (thanks to my friend who dragged me to the LCS) so that got to be my first impression.

Wanda's an interesting character to try to get into, since she's so strongly tied to the Avengers. She didn't get a solo of any decent length until 2015... but I highly recommend checking out Scarlet Witch by James Robinson if you can. It's not perfect, but it's very good and it has a lot of nice art by different artists. It's a fun series!

A lot of people who like That™ version of the character seen in certain films and a mediocre television show will talk about "feats" and "power" and all that even in terms of the comics, but honestly I think all of that is a load of bull. Wanda's greatest moments have always been where she follows her heart, but also her head. She's a veteran Avenger, she's one of the most compassionate characters ever, she has had epic highs and some very low lows... but she always pulls through.

And when you get a good writer that really does her justice? Oh, that's just peak. That's the best.

(I also like when she just straight-up punches people - Avengers #186; Plot: Gruenwald, S. Grant, W: Michelinie, A: Byrne)

On the note of Midnight Suns, they kind of... tried? Like, it's hard to explain. It's not great, and I would prefer her hair to be several shades darker, but it could be worse, as far as adaptations go?

EDIT 8/4/2023: I previously criticized the game here for using Romanian for Wanda - this was a mistake on my part as it's been pointed out that she has spoken Romanian in the comics but it does not mean she is intended to be Romanian. I've also learned it's commonly spoken in the region Wanda is from. To my friend who pointed out my mistake, you have my thanks!

Anyways, I'm glad you've continued to stick around even as I've expanded beyond just Venom-posting. I confess, though, I've often thought about what it would be like to smash my two little interests here together... I think particularly in Midnight Suns-verse (mixed with a little 616, of course) Venom and Scarlet Witch could have an interesting conversation. (Let's be real, I'll probably write it.)

I also think about Poisoned!Scarlet Witch a lot. I think about the universe where she was Venom... what that must have been like... what their symbiosis was... many thoughts. I bet their joined form was awesome. Wanda has great style.

(Venomverse #3, #4, #5; Bunn, Coello - that last one is fine; the host and symbiote are both dead the second they get Poisoned 😔 Mania did them a favor.)

Anyways, thanks for stopping by! If you get a chance, check out @brw's Comic Scarlet Witch Week 2023! Life circumstances have kept me from participating thus far but every week is a great week to appreciate Wanda Maximoff as she was meant to be. 🥰

#wanda maximoff #kita talks comics #asked and answered #anonymous #listen i just love her so much #also i've been thinking about venomverse lately for reasons #i don't wanna talk about it #anyways thank you anon for giving me an opportunity to ramble about wanda #edit made for clarity

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goodlesson · 1 year

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peyt’s top 10 albums released in 2022

this list was genuinely SO hard to put together!! i feel like every artist i love dropped new music this year thanks to all the studio time they had during the first couple years of the pandemic. sorry to all the great albums that didn’t make the cut - it’s not you, it’s me. 🫠

these are absolutely NOT in order because that would be an impossible task. and now, without further ado, i’ll put my rambling below:

1. give me the future + dreams of the past by bastille

i’m sure no one is surprised to see this one on my list. if you ARE surprised then idk what to tell you. this album was so surprising and different in the best way, especially after how meh i felt about doom days when it was released. thank you for the futuristic grooves mr. dan bastille!!!

top 3: stay awake?, revolution, hope for the future

2. s.i.d.e.s. by alice merton

alice was hands down the best discovery i made this year (thank you again mr. dan bastille). and just in time for her sophomore album!! it’s hard to pinpoint what really makes this album a standout for me. it honestly has it all: great vocals, honest lyrics, catchy hooks. plus alice is just so humble and so cool. how can you not like her?

top 3: future, mania, same team

3. crash by charli xcx

when crash came out, my friend was insistent i listen to it because it was “the best pop album since future nostalgia.” honestly? she was right. this is easily charli’s magnum opus. it’s so good.

top 3: good ones, constant repeat, yuck

4. 5sos5 by 5 seconds of summer

as soon as they released me myself & i as a single i knew this album was going to be It. truly their best work. one of the best parts of listening to 5sos over the years has been hearing their sound mature and this album feels like the culmination of that maturation.

top 3: me myself & i, bad omens, carousel

5. five seconds flat by lizzy mcalpine

every single song on this record feels like a hammer straight to the chest. lizzy’s lyrics are some of the best stuff i’ve heard in ages. this has to be not just one of the best albums on my list but objectively one of the best albums of the year period.

top 3: erase me, doomsday, all my ghosts

6. conditions of a punk by half•alive

they dropped half of this album back in february as give me your shoulders pt. i and at the time i was fully ready to stick that on my “best of” list - then the rest of the album came out just this month. no one is doing it like half alive. no one. they are so singularly themselves in their sound, their lyrics, and their live performances/visuals. i can’t believe they’re not being hailed as geniuses by music critics everywhere.

top 3: hot tea, nobody, make of it

7. the loneliest time by carly rae jepsen

queen carly hath returned!! once again she has crafted the perfect pop record. listen - i know i’m aromantic but this woman’s music just makes me want to be in love sooooooo bad.

top 3: beach house, anxious, talking to yourself

8. faith in the future by louis tomlinson

the main takeaway from this album is that louis really was the heart and soul of 1d’s songwriting in the later years. his sound on this record is so reminiscent of midnight memories in the best way. this is what i was hoping his debut would sound like - and while walls didn’t quite make the mark, this record most definitely did.

top 3: holding on to heartache, common people, lucky again

9. apocalypse whenever by bad suns

this record is light and fun and i love it. no thoughts just bops. while i do miss bad suns’ language & perspective era grittiness, i dig their newer sound just as much.

top 3: life was easier when i only cared about me, when the world was mine, peachy

10. cleanse by joywave

a perfect transition from possession at the start of the pandemic to now. i knew this record would be great when they dropped the every window is a mirror EP last year and “after coffee” took over my life. and i was right!!

top 3: after coffee, cyn city 2000, buy american

other solid albums that ~just~ missed out on my list:

girl of my dreams by fletcher

stick season by noah kahan

emails i can’t send by sabrina carpenter

midnights by taylor swift

sonder by dermot kennedy

what a most excellent year for music! thanks, 2022!

#peyton speaks

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crazybigredlove · 2 years

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29th July 2013

Dear Pete,

Kill me. Kill me now. Yesterday I was a normal thirty-one year old woman. Today I have taken a sidestep into crazy town and I'm staying for the fresh coffee and awesome tunes.

It's nearly midnight and I've just arrived home. The second date was about as easy to make sense of as a Miley Cyrus performance. It's the most dangerously addictive feeling to be so attracted to someone but to know at the same time that you really shouldn't be. Maybe I should start at the beginning.

Brace yourselves. A tale is coming.

After spending what felt like hours with Christopher deciding on what to wear (I really don't understand how the boy is trusted to perform complex surgical procedures, but offering feedback of a constructive nature on his housemate's attire is outside his skill set) and having a lengthy debate regarding whether cute, sexy, or somewhere in the middle is the best look for a second date, was finally ready to head out the door in that blue dress I bought when The Czech and I were dating. Bought it after our third date and then he just disappeared from my life so it has been sitting in the back of the cupboard, just waiting to be dragged out. Dress was as pretty as I remember and through some miracle not related to the amount of chocolate croissants I've been eating (but possibly due to the CrossFit x 3) it still fit.

"You look good, Liv. You're not right in the head, but you look good." Even though I was 97% convinced he was teasing, 3% is a wide margin so I threw things at him all the same.

"Christopher, you're not qualified to diagnose that. Now is the time to help, not hurt. If I break a bone you'll be the first person I call but right now you are limited to fashion advice and are not allowed to try and diagnose me with complex mental health conditions. 'Do no harm' and all that. Helping, not hurting." The words rushed together as I twirled one last time in the window. He chuckled. "Wrong continent. Ours is more of a do the best you can deal." "Right. That's not alarming at all." "Liv?" Walking towards me he placed both hands on my shoulders. "Trust me, you look good. You do however need to dial back on the mania and to limit it to less than a hundred words without a breath. I can see the desperation and fear oozing out of your pores. It's weird." "But it's a desperate desire to run away, not to fall in love! Surely that's less scary for men to see? Doesn't that make it at least a little bit okay?" "No." Taking a seat and reaching for the remote, it seemed he was done with the pep talk and the conversation overall. "You're right. I'm cancelling." With a sigh he switched the television back off. "No. You're going. Seriously, I didn't sign on for this when I moved in." "You didn't sign on for anything. You just moved in!" His voice remained calm. "What's the worst that can happen?" "He doesn't like me." "And?" "There isn't an 'and'. There doesn't need to be. It sucks enough if someone doesn't like you." In a huff I sat down beside him. "You know there are like six billion people on the planet right? How many of them do you think are hopelessly in love with you?" "Hopefully all of them." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Don't look at me like that."

He flicked a switch on the remote and as he did there was a knock at the door. Practically tripping over the coffee table, he rushed to beat me to it. The door opened, he stared for several seconds, and then after a pause he turned to me and muttered, "At least you know what you're in for." With a shake of his head he took his place back on the couch and refused to make eye contact. That was when I noticed the shorts. The short, fitted shorts popular with members of One Direction and other boys in their late teens and very early twenties. They were the type of shorts that tended to be much less popular in the single, straight, and over-thirty crowd.

Face flushed with a mischievous grin, he leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Hey." He wrapped his arms around me in a limp hug. "Hungry?" "Absolutely. It is way past my lunchtime and as a rule I don't like to go more than an hour at time without eating. It makes the natives restless."

Laughter was his only response and I'm choosing to interpret that as him thinking I'm quirky and cute rather than odd.

The restaurant was Big Red's choice and nice enough, but it was only about ten minutes in when the conversation took a turn down WTF Lane.

"Have you thought much about whether you're ready for a new relationship?" His eyes locked in on mine and I had to force down the wine in my mouth, feeling it burn as it choked in my throat. Electrical signals in my body started firing at double time. "Sorry?"

"I'm not looking for something casual, you know? I want a proper fucking relationship." "Oh. Okay." This. Is. New. There was a silence between us for longer than what is normally considered comfortable. "So what are we doing here?"

Choke number two and another gulp of wine. "Sorry?" "Well, is there a future here?" "Um, this is our second date? I'm having a lot of fun, and I'm definitely open to the idea of a relationship, but maybe we could take it slow? You know, get the crucial third date out of the way before we start picking out names for the kids." Forcing a laugh I could hear how fake I sounded and guiltily swallowed the last of the glass. So much for my honesty policy...

"I know, but I guess I want to know that we want the same things. Like, do you think you could be with someone who travels a lot for work?" Shoulders started tensing at this point and I could feel myself trying to sink through the back of the chair and it felt like he really hadn't listened to a word I'd just said. "If there's trust in a relationship I think you can make anything work. Both people just have to want it enough."

"Do you want kids?" I'm fumbling now. "Seriously, I can't tell right now whether you're serious or if you're being funny and trying to unnerve me." I force another laugh but there is no denying the tremble in my hands as he leaves me hanging, waiting for an answer. "Um, yeah, maybe, I guess. I always figured I'd know once I met the right guy." "So you do believe in marriage then?" "Ha! Well..." I said, completely not okay with my glass being empty and scanning the room desperately for a waiter. "This is a nice place. Have you been here before?" "Are you going to eat that?" He gestured to the untouched starter that had arrived with the inquisition. The growl in my stomach had long disappeared and I gave my head a shake. He helped himself and the conversation died an abrupt and bloody death that couldn't have come soon enough for me.

It didn't take long to recover and fall back towards the fun of the first date but as nice a time as we were having, as much as I kept finding myself staring into his big, blue eyes, as nice as it was to finally laugh once the inquisition was done and we relaxed again, and as refreshing as it was to have a man finally bringing up those things... Given that it was only our second date and he was diving in head first, I couldn't shake the impression that what Big Red wants first is a relationship. Who it is with is something he's prepared to deal with later.

Sitting there, gazing into his eyes, feeling that there could be more there if you let it, and yet knowing the whole time that really you could be anyone is not the magical feeling I'd dreamed of experiencing once I met my prince. Any girl at all in the world as long as you were showing him an interest and that would be enough for him. True love starts like that. Can I get a "hell yeah!"?

Then the internal debate started. Do I keep persevering with him knowing there's a clear chemistry so why not me, or do I go knowing that there's a chance if the girl at the next table signs the dotted line before I do then he probably wouldn't even notice the change in lead female?

Fuck it. I stayed. He was buying and it seemed wrong to run out on a free meal that had already been ordered. Without a doubt some of the worst logic I've ever thrown into play and I paid for it as the night went on and we moved from the restaurant to home.

"Just don't make me leave, okay?" He wrapped his arms around me on the couch while we watched a movie. We'd been sitting there for several hours, talking our way through movie after movie, laughing the entire time at I don't even know what, snuggling closer with an imagined intimacy, and the nagging voice refused to be silenced.

It was strange to know so definitely that he had to go. My mind was trolling through it's every nook and cranny, searching for the perfect excuse to kick him out without damaging his feelings too deeply, because by that stage I was thinking he probably had more feelings than I did. Feeling the way he was refusing to let go was turbo-charging my fight/flight response and the evidence continued mounting at how much this was a man who desperately wanted saving.

Only minutes later he was snoring softly, but I was still wide awake trying to make sense of the evening and running through a million fabricated scenarios in my head that would account for his desperate behaviour. From the chilled-out, relaxed, fun guy, to a dating nightmare in just one date. None of it made sense.

Eventually I was able to coax him out the door, promising that we'd hang out again soon and pointing out that it's already Monday and we both need to get to work in a few hours. Lying in bed now, reliving each moment, I think we can safely say that for the first time I was not the craziest person at one of my dates. That poor boy. I don't know what his ex-wife did to him (or maybe what he did to himself?), but he is all kinds of damaged goods. He is not Liv-material because Liv is already falling for him and he hasn't worked through his own hurt yet.

Meanwhile, getting you up to date has been exhausting and I'm tired. What do you say, cut and run? Delete his number and hope he finds someone else to obsess over? I can't though, because when he's not being completely intense and insane, I actually really like him.

Liv x

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luckyletter · 3 years

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.Princess Stuff. NEW LUCKY LETTERS!

.Princess Stuff. Mainstore Lucky Letter Upadates:

On the Left Side - all Free no Group needed.

Right Side - Most Set On Group. (Group fee 88L)

Taxi: http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Carat/155/33/3892

#.Princess Stuff.#Lucky Letter #Lucky Letter Secondlife #Secondlife Gifts #Secondlife BLog #bloggingsl #bloggingfreebies #Free Stuff Secondlife #Princess-stuff lucky letter #Midnight mania #Free Lucky Chair #Free Lucky Second Life #0L #0Linden #Free Secondlife #Free Gifts Secondlife

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gachasl · 3 years

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Free Midnight Mania Board! out Now!

Target: 0/58

Open for all!

Out now @ the Mainstore:

Taxi: http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Carat/155/33/3893

xoxo Hyacintia <3

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catherine-cloud · 1 year

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.Princess Stuff. April News & Events!

Fair:

The Magical Spring Fair & Hunt 3

All Infos here:

Homepage HERE

Slurl to my Fair Booth:

Fair Hunt & Free Gift!

Hunt Item 3Ls Fair Gift 0Ls

Hunts:

Hint & Prize Preview Pics HERE!

3Ls for all Huntprizes:

.Princess Stuff. Hint: Back in the Store, there´s a box on the floor. Looks like a cat but inside there´s a rabbit with a hat!

to find @ the Mainstore:

All Infos here:

and here:

Huntprizes: 1Ls

to find @ the Mainstore:

Hint: (You have to search for the "Nice Egg")

Midnight Mania & Midnight Madness - Open for all - no Group needed!

Target: 0/58

Target: 0/88

Lucky Letters: Open for all:

No Group Needed!

Lucky Letters for Group Members:

(one time fee/88Ls)

Also Campchairs filled with new Items!

The Green one is Set on Group - the Blue One - open for all!

.New Stuff.

Adriana Dresses on the Left Side - to get for 125Ls including a Metal Changer Color Hud!

Right Side: .Princess Stuff. [Summer Wrap Dresses] a Set includes 4 to 5 different Colors (Hud)! Price for each set 175Ls

all @ the Mainstore Out Now!

April Groupgift is in progress - so soon @ the store!

Deal of the Week!

inworld to get for 75Ls!

xoxo

Catherine <3

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linkedsoulsblog · 5 years

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#329 - Walking around the city da Violette Zaks Tramite Flickr: ρℓεasε cнεcк × Bℓog : Liиkєd Søuℓs × Iηsтagraм × Þєrsøиal ƒacєbøøk ρs : Fεεℓ frεε тo foℓℓoω mε oη oтнεr sociaℓ ηεтωorкs ! (o^.^o) тнaηк Yoυ (o^.^o)

#Second #Life #Fashion #Blogger #Revelation #Midnight #Mania #Besom #Hair #Top #Pants #Boots #Epic #Pink #Beanie #Jeans #Outfit #Girl #Virtual #Outfits #City #Street

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fashion-centric · 2 years

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Weekend pampering at Zuri Jewelry

New Midnight Mania Gift No group needed! Just run into the store and slap that happy board… bring all your friends, so come midnight everyone takes this beauty home. Check us out on our Flickr page, our Flickr group, Facebook, Marketplace, or just come over and let us tempt you. ✽ڿڰۣ—. Hugs from Zuri Rayna and Staff .ڿڰۣ—✽

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#Gift #Jewelry #Midnight Mania #Second life #Zuri Jewelry #Zuri Rayna

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mirahvieria-blog · 6 years

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OOTD 9.6.18

I scored this gorgeous new skin the other day and was excited to throw some other new acquisitions together with it and snap a few pics. Damn, I love a jumpsuit.

Location: Sol Farm

Mesh Body - Maitreya Lara (Shape is my own)

Mesh Head - Lelutka Chloe

Eyes - LOTUS - Gift Medusa Eyes (Mesh) - FREE gift at Imaginarium for Gacha Garden Group members (Free to join, there are many gifts out)

Skin Applier - 7 Deadly s[k]ins - Cicely: Drow, Omega applier - FREE from the Lucky Board in store, Group Required, Group join fee currently L$225 and trust me it’s so worth it, but if that’s not in the budget they frequently reduce it or make it free for short periods of time, so keep an eye out. Also they have MM every day, one mini mania, and one lucky board with no group needed.

Nose Bridge Piercing - Suicidal Unborn - Nose Piercing Set - Group Gift - 100L group join fee - tons of past group gifts available in the store. This piercing set has a HUD with multiple metal options and ability to turn parts on/off.

Septum Piercing - amias - June gift piercing - Group Gift - group FREE to join, past gifts available

Headband - Suicidal Unborn - Kitty Headband w/ HUD control - Group Gift - L$100 Group join fee

Hair - Moon - Messenger W/o Hat: Blondes - FREE from Midnight Mania, no group needed, it gives a fatpack, MM rotates prizes daily

Earring - ^^Swallow^^ - Deco Earrings (HUD) - Group Gift - Group join fee $L40, many past gifts available

Necklace - toksik - Heartbreaker Necklace (HUD) - Group Gift - Group join fee L$25

Tattoo Applier - Endless Pain Tattoos - Clair de Lune (Maitreya, Omega, Belleza, Slink, & TMP appliers in pack) - FREE from Lucky Chair, second floor, gifts rotate.

Jumpsuit - Scandalize - Cooper Jumpsuit - Group Gift - Group join fee L$100, many past gifts available

Shoes - KC Couture - Hedy Heels (HUD) - Comes with Maitreya, Belleza, Eve, TMP, & Slink - Group Gift - Group join fee L$25, past gifts available

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cunaeparker · 2 years

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in you i find solace

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

word count: approx. 6k

warnings: SMUT, minors dni. piv sex. very brief allusions to mental illness. friends to lovers. nothing too explicit, very soft :’)

summary: thunderstorms are frightening. she finds herself wound up at her neighbour’s flat—aka her best friend’s residence—surrounded by candlelight and words unspoken. maybe the blown fuse was a blessing in disguise?

a/n: new fixation! very happy that i found something to give me a much-needed boost:) very excited to be able to write again!! i’m not sure how i did writing stevens character as accurate characterization isn’t my forte but this character is so. endearing i couldn’t help but to conjure something up :3

Thunder booms from outside and rain pounds the windows of her flat.

The weather is all-too familiar for England, and if she was a native to the British island perhaps she would've become desensitized to the deafening blow of the wind and pound of the rain on her window pane, but as a non-native, a mere nomad in search of adventure, she finds herself trembling with every shake of the building and jumping to every strike of lightning that illuminates her half-painted walls.

Lightning casts eerie shadows on the flat's grey and turquoise finish. The paint combination is obviously quite garish, and she's always hated the gauche seafoam that's adorned her flat's walls, always taking time to indulge in a few hours of painting—but this storm ravaging the old complex? It instilled fear and left behind something ominous in its wake. The irony is comical; for a woman in search of life, usually running from country to country with a bold fearlessness tramping through her veins, it's funny that the one thing she's frightened of haunts her latest residence: the flickering of the lights followed by the ground-shaking rumble of thunder and the absence of light. Complete and utter darkness; borderline perpetual rain.

So, with a candle lit in her trembling hand, hot wax dripping onto her skin due to the unfortunate lack of funds required to buy a holder, she scurries out of her flat and heads to the only true place she finds solace in in this busy city—her neighbour's flat.

"Steven," she whispers urgently, banging on the wooden door. "Can you let me in, please?"

Mere seconds pass by before the door swings open. Steven is holding one of his own candles, and behind him she can see a large array of them scattered around his messy flat. His eyebrows draw into a worried line and his dark eyes soften when they meet hers.

"Y/N? You alright?" he asks, concern laced in his words as his eyes widen slightly.

She ponders for a moment but subsequently decides to ditch the confident facade in exchange for one a lot more genuine.

"Erm," she hesitates, starting to feel a little foolish. She shouldn't have come over. She knows she can't handle the pound of the rain and the all-consuming darkness alone, though—

"Y/N?"

Steve's voice snaps her back to reality. His lips part in worry and the concern in his eyes and the blatant care emanating from his pajama-clad body is enough to induce an unfortunate onslaught of word-vomit.

"Oh, God," Y/N finally starts to pour out, eyes glinting with mania, "I'm not alright at all—the darkness is terrifying and I can't stand to be alone in my flat when I have one single candle to light! I really despise the shitty fuse system-thing in this complex, I swear to God it goes out every time there's a storm but now it's midnight and there's no daylight to spare and if I'm going to be honest with you, I am petrified of the dark and—"

"Y/N, calm down."

Steven's surprisingly even tone interrupts her and he steps out from beneath the threshold, gently placing a hand on her arm. His gaze is calming and his warm touch acts as an immediate benzodiazepine. With Steven's emergence, she can see dripping candles and various stacks of books within the flat: it's undoubtedly messy and covered in paper and notes, but in the plentiful amount of times she has entered—whether it be for an evening top-off after a night out or to grab that sodden bra she had left when the sudden downpour last week forced the pair to scurry back inside—she knew his flat to be an oddly endearing second home.

"It's okay," he continues sweetly, even going so far as to offer a smile. "Come in, if you want," he gestures, "it's a lot darker in the hall, we don't want anything to jump out and attack us, yeah?"

He laughs, but there's a tight and nervous edge to it.

Y/N attempts a smile. Learning to take Steven's bad jokes was a skill in itself.

"Odd joke choice considering the state I'm in," she says. She also tries to phrase it like a joke, but now she can't help but feel as if something is now looming behind her. She looks in behind Steven's stout frame. "Erm, I'll come in now, if that's alright?"

Steven's eyes widen as he stumbles out, "Of course, of course—"

She practically leaps into Steven's flat. Quickly placing her burning candle onto a wooden table already coated in dry wax, she jumps into the bed, shimmying under the cold sheets. He hums as he locks the door. When he finishes up, he turns towards her and starts to walk towards his bed; his eyes aren't locked on hers yet, and his fingers work at the knot at the band of his sweatpants.

"So, be honest," he begins, still working away at the string. The effectiveness in which he works and the way his large pyjama shirt rides up over his torso (exposing his surprisingly defined abdomen) causes a swarm of butterflies to flutter in her stomach. Or, rather, worms—Steven is her best friend, and although others may deem him as odd, it was a blatant fact that he did have a sort of unkempt-handsomeness to him. Steven continues and doesn't pick up on the way her eyes travel down his body. "Why didn't you tell me about this fear? You know I can help whenever you're feeling stressed or freaked or upset."

Y/N's heart warms at the sentiment but she only shrugs and pulls the covers up to her chin. The warmth from the candles and the woody scent of Steven on his pillow only aids in her attempts to relax.

"I'm not sure why I didn't tell you," she says sheepishly. "It's embarrassing, I guess—I act all tough, but something as mundane as darkness terrifies me. It's odd and childish and stupid."

Steven parts his lips to interject, and she suddenly remembers Steven's constant insistence to stop the self-deprecating remarks—she instead follows her sentence with an unconvincing chuckle of, "I guess. I don't really care, though."

Steven raises an unconvinced brow as he walks over to the bed and lies in the empty spot beside her.

"You don't care?" He asks, although he doesn't pose it as a question, but rather a statement. His lip twitches into a small half-smile. "I mean, you seemed to care when you ran in here all bamboozled an' stuff."

Y/N laughs breathily, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah, well, sometimes we have to act like we don't care even though there's shit raging beneath the surface, you know?"

Steven's expression becomes distant and his usual warmth seems to fade.

"Yeah," he says quietly.

She picks up on this, but decides not to pry. Although Steven is a wonderful friend and companion, he is oddly secretive—it took her nearly three days out on the town to get him to admit his favourite ice cream flavour, and even with an exasperated throw of his hands in the air and an airy laugh, his answer sounded more like a question. Almost as if he himself didn't know.

Steven's sudden distance sparked a small silence.

Y/N realized that Steven probably felt lonely. Or thought that he would be ridiculed for the smallest, most unimportant things such as ice cream flavour (Steven's is lemon, and although it is questionable for her taste, she would never berate him). He was just a man trapped within a routine and a strong fear of rejection and ridicule.

In this revelation, Y/N's brows furrowed, drawn together with sympathy. She turned onto her side and placed her hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump ever-so-slightly. But when his dark eyes met hers, body rolling over onto his side as well, she smiled and she could sense some of that tension dissipate when his body seemed to slump into her touch.

Tonight, the darkness is scary, but spending it with Steven, bathed in warm candlelight, makes her appreciate it just a small bit.

"You're a good friend," Y/N says. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

Her words are hushed, for she fears for speaking too loudly. Typically the night is an instrument of fear but now the night morphs into something quiet and revered.

Steven's tired eyes seem to glow. A small smile weaves its way onto his face and she swears she sees a peek of crimson pass behind his sharp cheekbones.

"Thanks," he whispers. "You are too—and it's really no problem."

Y/N has to bite her lip in order to contain the wide smile threatening to weave its way onto her face. And for some bold reason she can't really understand, she pushes herself closer towards him with a hum, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She places her head beneath his chin, resting it on his chest, and although she hears his breath hitch, she feels his hands slowly begin to lift the thin material of her blue camisole, caressing the smooth skin of her bare back. The movement is so heady it's nearly unnatural for him. But it results in an overwhelming sense of contentment both parties lack.

Y/N sighs and closes her eyes. She feels his head slowly begin to rest comfortably atop of hers, and it's enough to ignite a crazed fire in her heart. She never knew Steven Grant's warmth could be addicting.

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment.

Y/N runs her fingers through his dark, unruly curls and hears him release a shaky breath. Steven does the same. Then, he pulls away ever-so slightly, smiling softly at the small frown turning down her lips before pressing his forehead to hers, gently smoothing his thumb over her cheek. It's so bold and not Steven but it is. She can see her reflection in his eyes and its warm and content, swathed in candlelight and darkness.

Maybe, with Steven, she can learn to treat the darkness as a friend.

His breath mangles with hers and he is unbearably close.

"Y/N?"

He is so soft-spoken. The words are said so quietly the syllables hardly brush past his lips.

Y/N hums and lifts her head, barely nudging his nose with hers. Steven gulps, and although it's a barely discernible noise, it's enough to make her heart race.

"I... I love being with you, Y/N," he says. His eyes flit back and forth between her own. "You make me feel... not alone, anymore. You... you embrace the stupid oddities and quirks and are so loved for it—you are just... God, you're so amazing. Thank you."

Y/N's face crumbles into an expression of sheer elation.

"You really think that?" she whispers, eyes sparkling like crushed diamonds. "You think rather nicely of a grown woman afraid of the dark." She laughs and doesn't fight the urge to run her fingers through his scalp. "You're a funny man, Steven Grant."

Steven chuckles airily and brushes her nose with his. He says nothing. His smile, the overabundance of utter tenderness radiating from him... it's enough to make her heart beat out of her chest. She thinks it might grow wings and fly out into the storm at this point; and hopefully, it can join up with Steven's rapidly beating one too, and perhaps they can manage to fuse that chordae tendineae of the heart or spindle fibres of the cell and create something new.

Something whole.

Something that can embrace the literal darkness of life; something that can learn to fight off the evil lurking within that darkness.

And for reasons unknown, when thunder illuminates the room and the beautiful figure of perpetually exhausted Steven reveals itself to look rested, Y/N doesn't fight the urge to lean closer. Their eyes flit to each other's lips, lips parted in anticipation. Her nose, her lips, her forehead, they brush against his once again and his minty breath mingles with hers—she fights back a smile at the sudden vision of him brushing his teeth with candlelight. Oh, Steven. No one compares.

Perhaps she's waited too long, studying and revelling in the beauty that is him.

"Y/N," Steven breathes for what must be the umpteenth time that night. Y/N feels his eyelids flutter closed and she smiles—damn those enviable long eyelashes. He's so beautiful. Steven's lips barely brush against hers. "Is it alright if I—"

"Yes," she sighs, not waiting to hear his answer before boldly connecting her lips to his.

This kiss is soft and tender. It's unadulterated emotion and the simple placement of ones' lips on another. Y/N feels Steven's eyebrows furrow as he reaches up to gently hold her face, and her throat involuntarily allows a small whimper to pass through her nose. He smiles against her mouth, taking the liberty to gather a handful of hair from the back of her head.

It feels so right. Nothing has ever felt so right in her life.

She melts into his touch.

"Kiss me like you mean it, Scotty," she murmurs.

Steven smiles again, "It's Steven."

"I know."

"God, I love you."

Y/N's heart is surely going to burst now. She's not sure if he even noticed the admittance, but the sudden, gentle touch of his tongue to hers is enough to rid her of all thoughts she's ever had and all the thoughts she will have. She inhales shortly, tentatively swiping her tongue over his bottom lip before entering his mouth. Colours explode behind her eyes and although Steven's kiss is messy and frantic and hidden behind shades of dirtiness and desire, it's passionate and binding and tastes of citrus and mint. She runs her hands through his hair, tugging gently, and his quiet grunt of pleasure is the act that confirms—no longer is Y/N trying to ignore the pulsing growing stronger between her thighs. Embracing his tongue and the messy altering between passion and adoration and frenzy, she throws her leg over his own, lifting herself to straddle his thighs.

Steven's eyes darken and a thin sheen of sweat beads at the top of his forehead. His chest heaves and his mouth is parted in awe as Y/N takes the liberty to sensually circle her hips, moving her hands up her body starting with her torso to her neck, eventually wrapping them around her camisole. She bites her swollen bottom lip and her breastbone also heaves, overtaken by lust.

"Is this okay?" she asks huskily, leaning down to press a series of wet kisses to Steven's neck. As she sucks, she feels him swallow and nod.

"Y-Yeah, it's definitely okay," he sighs, running his hands up the expanse of her thighs and waist with hungry eyes. Suddenly, she has the urge to thank whatever higher power had her absolutely set on wearing spandex shorts to bed. Leaning down once again to press her lips to his, she rolls her body against the growing bulge under his sweatpants, gently biting on his neck. Steven grunts, and she feels the ghost of his hands reach to caress her bum before quickly pulling away. It seems as though he has chosen to lay his hands awkwardly beside him instead of touching her—it's enough to make her smile, because it reminds her that she is indeed intimate with none other than Steven, a respectful yet slightly awkward man.

She peppers a trail of kisses from his collarbone—thank the Lord for his oversized tee—to his neck and then to his earlobe, nibbling on the flesh. She feels him shudder and mutter something under his breath.

"Steven," she hums into his ear, fingers deciding to tangle themselves in his already wild make-out hair, "you know you're allowed to touch me."

He gulps. "I know."

"Then why don't you?" she says lowly, continuing to kiss his collarbones.

"I don't wanna disrespect you." He squeezes his eyes shut and tosses his head back at her touch. "You're too lovely."

Y/N's ministrations cease and her expression softens. She leans back to sit onto his thighs once more, gently grabbing one of his hands and bringing it to her lips, tenderly trying to convey how much that means without using words. And by the look on his face, with his stretched-out collar and wide eyes, she thinks he understands. She places a final kiss to his palm and instead of setting it down beside him he cups her cheek once more, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone.

She sighs and presses another kiss to the pad of his thumb. "You're so sweet."

Steven only smiles in response. He gets it.

He pulls his hands away from her face and runs his fingers over the small design on the hem of her camisole. Aptly rolling up the bottom of the top, his chest begins to heave once more, and he sits up with her still in his lap, whispering, "Move your arms up. Please."

She doesn't hesitate, and the feeling of Steven's fingertips trailing the expanse of her skin is heavenly. He takes the camisole off, leaving her only in a nude bralette; he has seen her shirtless a few times, like with the downpour incident, but in this context, the softness of her skin underneath his rough fingertips is a lot more sacred. Pulling away for a moment, Steven takes the time to admire the whole of her, running his hands up and down her sides. He looks utterly enamoured.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," he praises, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips that has her frowning and chasing his own when he pulls away much too early for her liking. He then leans forward to kiss her neck to make up for it, a sensation so fruitful it has her throwing her head back and tangling her fingers in his hair, letting out a satisfied sigh. Steven pulls away, again too soon for her liking, but only before he runs his fingers against the elastic bottom of her bralette.

His eyes become darker, if possible, and he slowly eases the fabric up and over her head, exposing her bare breasts and the thrumming of her heart against her ribcage.

In past instances, the hunger that glinted behind former lovers' eyes was borderline malicious and animalistic. But, Steven? His stare is drenched in admiration. It's so raw it makes her core throb.

His mouth opens and closes. His hands continue to knead at the flesh by her hips. And for once, she and him both find the eager man at a loss for words. He slowly runs his hands up her stomach, and when he finally reaches her breast, the darkness behind his eyes is all-consuming.

"God," is all he says—no, groans—before suddenly grabbing her by the hips and flipping her over with a grunt, leaving him on top. Y/N smiles and cups his face in her hands, bringing him to her lips once again. Now, the kiss is dirty and longing, and all hints of sensuality are thrown out the window.

Steven pulls away, leaving a string of saliva attached to their lips before going down, down, down, letting out a quiet groan before attaching his mouth to her pebbled nipple. He gently sucks, occasionally nipping, leaving Y/N a writhing mess on his bed, winding her hands in his hair once again. His ministrations are sure to accommodate both nipples, teeth marking the supple flesh of her breasts and lips latching onto any expanse of flesh he can get.

"Steven," she whimpers suddenly, gently pushing his head away, "Can you take off your shirt?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, 'course," Steven says hastily, even though he looks surprised when he glances down to his chest, seemingly forgetting that he had not yet rid himself of the scratchy fabric. He quickly takes it off and tosses it somewhere in the room, facing her slightly debauched form with a wide smile. "Better?"

Y/N's mouth runs dry.

She had seen his defined back through some of his tighter-fitting clothing. However, she had not expected him to be so... shaped. His tanned skin was littered with tiny freckles and old scars, toned abdomen taut and lean. Y/N was never really familiar with the idea of him being a regular gym-goer, but in his god-like radiance, she couldn't find it in herself to think or care about how these magnificent abs came into existence.

"Steven Grant," Y/N gawks, "you're really hot."

Steven smiles almost bashfully before kissing her breast again, using his other hand to knead at the fatty mound. "You're not too bad yourself, Y/N."

Y/N shakes her head and feels a blush crawl up her cheeks as she tries to hold her composure.

"No, I mean like, I would literally shag you at any given moment if I saw you on the street—oh." She throws her head back into his pillows when his teeth graze her nipple. "Steven..."

"Hm?"

She pushes him from her breast and looks him in the face. The shine of his saliva and the redness of his lips and the flush of colour flooding his face is enough to make her orgasm. He looks divine.

"You are beautiful," she says, throwing her arms over his shoulders and relishing in the way his bare stomach feels pressed against hers. "You are very handsome, love." She kisses him. "I mean it."

Steven is silent for a moment.

"Thanks," he whispers. He doesn't say much, but she knows whatever he wants to say has already been said, and he knows that she knows it, too.

Steven kisses her softly, passionately, sensually; he abandons the dirtiness for it is false. He falls back onto his knees, looking at Y/N through dark lashes as he starts to slowly pull the shorts and panties from her legs. Her breath catches in her throat when she is left completely bare.

"Steven..."

"Sh," he encourages, gently pushing her legs open. His eyes look from her bare core to her heaving form, and he spits onto his fingers before thrusting them before Y/N's puffy lips. "Lubrication," he explains.

She obeys, and if anything, the unawareness causes her to get even wetter. The saltiness of his fingers mixed with the sweetness of his saliva is enough to send her reeling. She sucks hard, closing her eyes and humming as Steve's other hand clutches her wet mound. When deemed lubricated enough (even though Y/N's been dripping the entire time), Steve makes a pleased noise and gently taps at her clit. At this she jolts, and without warning, Steve shoves two fingers into her cunt.

"Oh, fuckkkk," she whines, trembling from the absurdity of it all. "Shit."

"Yeah, that's it," he mumbles quietly as he sinks onto his knees, watching her squelching core with fascination. "Doin' so well."

Y/N is reduced to only moans when Steve expertly (she doesn't know where this experience came from, though she does not care to ask) curls his fingers upwards, hitting the spongy spot inside of her that has her seeing stars. She gasps and throws her head back, throwing out a hand to grab any part of Steven he would give to her. With a grunt, he reaches out a hand and she grips it tightly, trying not to make any loud noises.

"Y/N," Steven says from above her, tone sweet, "I want to hear you. Please."

"Mhm," she manages to respond. Tears form at the corners of her eyes.

Steven smiles. "Good."

Y/N trembles at the praise, only letting out a high-pitched whine.

"Oh, God, you're so—FUCK! STEVEN! Oh, fuckfuckfuck, I'm gonna come—"

The sudden fondling of her clit without warning is enough to push her over the edge. She gasps and arches her back, feeling waves of white-hot pleasure shooting through her body. She grips the sheets so hard her knuckles turn white and her mouth seems to be open in a perpetual o-shape, glimmering with spit in the candlelight, eyes squeezed shut.

Her pleasure is so visceral it is wordless. Steven smiles. He presses a multitude of kisses to her collarbones and tangles his fingers in her hair, making soft crooning noises as he coaxes her through orgasm.

"That's it, good girl," he whispers innocently, moving his head to allow her to grab onto his dark curls. Suckling on the juncture between her neck and collarbones, eliciting a content hum from her, she realizes that Steven's nature is so utterly caring and nurturing she knows his words aren't spawned from lust. It's genuine, and if anything, it sends another storm of fluttering butterflies to her sensitive core.

The pulsing inside her ceases, and Steven's touch doesn't feel so ghost-like anymore.

She opens her eyes and meets Steven's.

"Holy shit," is all she says. She laughs. "You're a madman."

A small smile quirks up his rosy lips. "Yeah?"

"Yes," she confirms. She moves upwards to tangle her hand in his hair, resting the other one on his back. He presses his forehead to hers and she hums. "You're quite something," she whispers.

Steven sighs.

"You are, too," he responds softly.

Gently, he grabs her hands in his, falling back onto his knees. He guides them to the waistband of his boxers and his eyes are dark.

"Is this okay?" he says quietly. Insecurity but flaming boldness flashes behind his eyes.

Y/N's heart flutters and she nods.

"Of course," she says. She looks up at him and nods once again, encouraging him. "Fuck me, Steven."

A noise gets stuck in his throat at her words. "God," he groans, shaking his head with a small, incredulous smile, "I'm the madman?"

Y/N grins.

And with that, he falls back down on top of her, allowing her to pull down his boxers. The moment it takes to awkwardly wiggle out of them is barely even remembered (besides from Steven's loud yelp when he lost his balance and almost fell off the bed, eliciting an ugly snort from Y/N's naked frame) before she catches sight of his cock: if the thickness isn't the most impressive asset of his, it's the length; Y/N has to hold back the involuntary bulge of her eyes at the sight.

She gulps. She expects nothing less than a staggering gait for the next week.

Steven's eyes are piercing as he lowers himself down, placing his elbows beside her head. He kisses her forehead and mumbles against the hot flesh, "You ready?"

Y/N hums and rubs her hands over his back. "I've never been more ready for anything."

At that, the smile that lights up Steven's face is so soft it can be compared to the finest of cashmeres. Sweetness and adoration is practically dripping from his entire being and when he finally pushes into her, the tip slowly stretching her opening, they both gasp.

Steven grunts and lets his head fall into the crook of her neck. He begins to thrust, setting the pace so unbelievably gentle and slow and passionate it nearly causes her to shudder and go limp. He's grounding. Every ridge of his cock within her walls is perfect, as if the conjoining of their bodies has always been fate; something put rigidly in-line by a higher power. A sense of liberation from earthly conditioning and a taste of destiny.

For a brief moment, she decides that the gods Steven studies so avidly are most definitely real in order to produce a sensation such as this.

Her hands clutch at Steven's back as her mouth falls open, feeling his thrusts pick up in pace.

His lips fall from her name like a prayer and she tugs his hair, throwing her head back into his soft pillow. It's Steven everywhere and it's all-consuming: his smell in his pillows, sheets, the warmth of his skin and the expanse of small freckles on his back. She could get lost in him.

"Fuck," she moans. Steven continues thrusting. She knows he can't speak and she sees the urgency and love in his eyes when every dark curl bounces against the sweaty sheen of his forehead. "You're so good," she continues praising, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I trust you, fuck, I love you so much, Steven."

His groan is guttural. "Shit," he whimpers.

He begins picking up his pace. The sound of moans echoing throughout the flat - one deep and one high-pitched - is a dirty cocophany of raw human emotion. The sound of his balls slapping against her wet heat, the sound of his gasps when she scratches her nails down his back. It's too much yet not enough.

"Harder," Y/N gasps desperately, squeezing him tighter between her thighs.

His head falls into the crook of her neck once more as he manages to groan out, "I don' wanna hurt you."

"I don't care."

Steven's body shudders and he nips harder at her neck. "Fucking hell."

He slowly pulls out and leaves her entrance dripping before slamming back in once again.

Y/N cries out and clutches at the sheets once again, eagerly welcoming the large hand that flies out to grasp it. Steven looks utterly debauched: his murmurs of praise mixed with the sheen of sweat on his body, the contours of his abdomen and his long eyelashes that flutter with every perfect clench of her walls is enough to send her over the edge alone. She always knew he was handsome, but in this state, his attractiveness is nearly enough to make her come.

She squeezes his hand in hers and manages to make eye contact. The sounds have faded into the background and she's only focused on the building orgasm between her thighs and the look of utter pleasure etched into Steven's face.

"Fuck, Stevie," she whimpers. Her cries egg him on and she feels the tip of his cock brush her cervix, sending her into a spiral of loud moans. His dick is so deep she can almost see it through the walls of her stomach. The sight causes her to gasp and throw her head back, arching her back as Steve disconnects his lips from her neck to instead place them on her lips. He kisses her with fierce intensity, swallowing her moans and attempting to cover his own.

"Shit," he whines, causing his teeth to clash with hers, "I'm really fuckin' close."

Y/N pulls away ever-so slightly, a string of saliva keeping them connected. She leans up to kiss his shoulder and cups his face with her trembling hands.

"Let go, honey," she encourages, eyebrows furrowing into a pleasure-filled line. She kisses him again, initiating the dirtiest kiss of the night; she licks his tongue and he nips at hers with a loud whine, pressing his lips to hers, hard. "Come inside of me, Steven—"

"Oh, fuck!"

His cry is guttural and laced with pure ecstasy. He grunts as his thrusts become irregular, and Y/N gasps, pulling his head close to her. She kisses his hair and coaxes him through his own orgasm, hushing him with her own sweet words, rolling her hips up to meet his sputtering cock. He's coating the inside of her walls with his seed and it's intimate and hot and sensational, and Lord, if she didn't come from penetration, this alone would be it.

"That's right, it's okay," she coos, rubbing his back as his grunts start to become deeper in pitch. "You're doing so good."

Steven shudders. The slow roll of his hips cease and he finally stills inside of her, meeting her heaving breastbone with his chest. Y/N continues to whisper as she gently threads her fingers through his unruly hair.

There's a content silence.

Steven then lifts his head up, revealing a pair of dark, hooded eyes clouded with lust and exhaustion.

"You didn't come," he says suddenly.

Y/N is stunned for a moment. She was so lost in his beauty that the idea of coming had completely left her mind, and she can't recount a time that had ever happened. It's quite new. An experience unparalleled to any other. It's something lovely and wrapped in the soft clutches of admiration.

So, all she does is smile, and bring his soft lips to hers.

"I don't care," she whispers. "Just being here with you is enough."

Steven looks unsure. "Are you sure?"

"100%."

"You're pulling my leg."

"No, I'm telling the truth!" she laughs, throwing her hands up as Steven gives her a look. This look is prolonged when he collapses beside her, resting his head on his palm. Y/N turns to her side to meet his gaze, eyes clouded with mirth. "I'm being honest, I truly didn't care - just watching you was enough to satisfy me."

Steven frowns. "What is that even supposed to mean?"

Y/N shrugs, containing a smile with a bite of her lip as she moves her head up to rest on his bare chest. She feels his arms instinctively wrap around her and it sends her heart into a crazed thrum.

"I dunno," she tells him. "I guess it means I like you or something." The admittance is attempted to be said casually, and she hopes Steven takes it as such, but the pounding of her heart beneath her ribs and the hopefulness she exudes is enough to make her combust. She tangles their legs together and says no more.

She feels Steven reluctantly nod in agreement before the movement suddenly stops.

"Wait," he says. Confusion is evident in his tone, "You like me? Me?"

"Yes," she breathes.

And for once in his life, Steven stops talking. Instead, a love-drunk smile weaves his way onto his face as he pulls her naked body closer.

"Interesting," is all he can manage.

"Indeed."

Steven rubs her back and feels her breath against his chest.

"Y/N?" he implores.

She perks her head up, although her eyes are closed, and hums.

"I.. I, uh, like you too. I think." he says quietly.

He feels Y/N's smirk against his skin. "You think?"

Steven is silent for a moment. "Uh, yeah?"

"You're funny," she chuckles breathily after a second. Sleep coats her words like syrup and she finds herself pushing closer into his warmth. And before she drifts off to sleep, Steven feels her lips twitch into a contented smile, and he knows that although he might've phrased his own admittance wrong, she still understands. She'll always understand him, and she'll always relish in his presence, whether it be intimate or strictly professional or nothing other than platonic. And when she finally does drift off to sleep in Steven's arms, the smile he gives her is saturated with every nighttime top-up, every conversation about foreign lands and Egyptology, every tender fleeting touch they both failed to recognize... it's one of utter admiration, and oddly, acceptance; for the odd pair that is Steven and Y/N, two persons in search of contentment and the sense of home—they can finally manage to find solace in each other.

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x you #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mr. knight #moon knight smut #marvel fanfic #moon knight x reader #cunaeparker

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youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Mania.6

[MASTER LIST] [Mania Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: Mature 18+ Pairing: BTS OT7 Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Omegaverse Words: 1.8k Blood types: Namjoon, Jhope, Jungkook, Yoongi (A) Taehyung (AB) Jin, Jimin and Yoongi (O) (Jimin in real life is an A blood type)

Summary: At eighteen everyone takes a blood test to find out their blood types. A, B, or O. Each blood type represents the person’s secondary gender Alpha, Beta or Omega and can be Dominant (+) or Recessive (-).

When small thin Yoongi receives his letter he doesn’t expect A+. There was no way he was an Alpha especially not a dominant. But as time passes he shows no Alpha nor Omega tendencies and frankly he doesn’t care. Working in his father’s electrical business helps pay the bills but Yoongi’s real passion is music.

One very hot day in the roof space of a luxury apartment that Yoongi is rewiring an intoxicatingly pleasant smell churns his insides and he finds himself in need of something to quench his thirst.

Warning: polybts, orgy, dirty talk, degradation, dom&sub, begging, knotting, heats, slight mentions of Auto-erotic asphyxiation, breeding kink, cum

This entire chapter is smutty I do not encourage those underage to read this content. You can skip this chapter (if full smut is not your scene) and it will not affect the story.

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Jungkook chuckled darkly from where he was teasing Jimin alongside Taehyung. The two pulled away at Namjoon’s orders and all the alphas moved across the room and out of reach. Namjoon pushed Seokjin onto the bed beside Yoongi and walked away ignoring Seokjin’s whimpers opting to sit atop the large wooden desk.

Namjoon’s shoulders were not as wide as Seokjin’s but his whole form just poured dominant alpha pheromones which were so strong it even made the other alphas aware of his presence.

“What do you say to that?” Namjoon referred to Hoseok’s earlier question about wanting to be bred. All eyes were on Yoongi who was now squirming in a full-blown heat desperate for their help

“He did, he begged for three days, he wanted somebody to breed him.” Jungkook mocked, Yoongi's already hazy head spun with embarrassment, “You want that don’t you?”

“Of course he does,” Namjoon smirked almost evilly but his eyes were searching for any sign that Yoongi was uncomfortable or unwilling. But he saw none. “If you want us you have to beg for it?”

The three omegas doubled over assuming a position of submission on their hands and knees., the apex of their thighs becoming damp. Earlier Jimin had unbuttoned the front of Yoongi’s Jumpsuit, the older male becoming desperate to undress.

“Please,” Jin’s voice was weakened and he had completely removed his clothes in an effort to cool his heated form. Yoongi was desperate, groaning his hands traveling into the open front of his jumpsuit, plunging into the waistband of his underwear, and wrapping around his cock trying to find relief.

“Don’t touch yourself.” Hoseok’s voice wasn’t raised but it was full of power.

Yoongi was so lost in the haze of the alpha’s scent it was heavy on his limbs and chest. His cool long fingers had never felt so good around his shaft, unable to stop. He couldn’t suppress the moan that bubbled from his throat. He heard a growl from across the room and his eyes met Hoseok’s disappointed glare, he was disobeying his orders.

Hoseok’s strides ate through the rug between them as his hand clasped around both of Yoongi’s wrists and restrained them above his head. Yoongi was sitting back on his knees squirming as Hoseok took his chin tilting his head up. Yoongi tried to avert his eyes from Hoseoks knowing his cheeks were dusted bright pink, but he found himself unable to look away.

“What do you Omega’s want?” Namjoon asked them to vocalize their desires

“I want you koo,” Jimin whined and with a nod from Namjoon Jungkook crossed the room to his lover.

“I would like to come,” Seokjin swallowed thickly, at the raise of Namjoon’s eyebrow, “please sir.”

“Taehyung,” Namjoon nodded in Seokjin’s direction and the young man bounded across the room, his erection equally excited. Yoongi could hear the two omegas being satisfied but couldn’t turn his head from Hoseok’s firm grasp.

“Please touch me?” Yoongi mumbled his cheeks flushed and eyes falling to his lap, he was giving in to the sensations and his true desires. Hoseok seemed stunned for a second before he fulfilled Yoongi’s request, touching his chest and kissing him sensually. The omega whined against Hoseok and was quick to deepen the kiss, the two gettings heated breathing each other in, as their tongues mingled.

Hoseok already knew he felt something more than lust for Yoongi, he was so sweet and soft and beautiful. Hoseok tried his best to make him feel sexy, and honestly, the way he whined made him want to watch all the other alphas to help breed him, he wanted Yoongi.

The way Yoongi was pulling Hoseok closer, he wanted him just the same. Hoseok undressed Yoongi fully from his work overalls and as he peeled off his underwear he saw how the omega had soaked them in anticipation.

“I want you,” Yoongi said to Hoseok, whining as he pulled him against him. Hoseok had been with a few omega’s but this was the first time he had ever been nervous. He cared for this omega, more than he should, they were barely acquaintances, and here he was imagining more than just sex.

Hoseok’s hand twitched at the sight of Yoongi's collarbones and long neck, visions of piercing the flesh with his teeth and marking the helpless omega as his. Hoseok saw the Omega’s cock was thin and long, just like his finger and they were very pretty fingers at that. They pulled at his hair elegantly, they would wear a ring beautifully.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Hoseok’s big hands wrapped around Yoongi’s dick. Stepping forward to press his against Yoongi’s both fitting securely in Hoseok’s hand. He wanted Yoongi so bad but he tried his best to hold back, he wanted Yoongi to feel good before anything else.

Hoseok knew this Omega was new and untouched, he didn’t want Yoongi to feel even an ounce of fear, doubt, or pain. He prioritized his pleasure, kissing him. Eventually laying Yoongi back on the bed between the two other omega’s. Jimin was lying on his back legs bent around Jungkook’s hips while Seokjin was on his hands and knees braced for the quick pistoning of Taehyung’s hips.

Hoseok turned to grab some oils and lubricants to give him a sensual full body massage. However, Hoseok was surprised when he turned back to see Yoongi’s hand clasped with Jimin's, their fingers intertwined. It would have been cute if Seokjin wasn’t leaning over his omega kissing him passionately.

Hoseok had to take a small calming breath, the two omegas in the band often would help each other in heats and during the group's amorous sexcapades. It just felt like he wanted Yoongi all to himself. Starting with a chest massage Hoseok massaged the oil into Yoongi’s skin and down his soft yet small tummy. He was letting his pheromones work overtime, having them encase Yoongi.

“They are so cute,” Taehyung smiled at the Omegas and Namjoon watched his mate getting pleasured. Namjoon had certain tastes and Hoseok wasn’t one to judge.

“Hoseok, I don’t want your fingers, I need more,” Yoongi huffed, he tried to turn onto his hands and knees the natural submissive pose but Hoseok held him still. He didn’t trust himself with Yoongi’s exposed neck, he might accidentally mark him without his consent.

“Stay still,” Hoseok commanded and Yoongi’s squirming came to an end and he scooped up the omega and carried him from the room.

“Did you like letting Taehyung fuck you?” Namjoon growled

“No, I only like it when it’s you,” Jin’s cry filled the hall.

Hoseok walked Yoongi to his room and laid him on the bed, Yoongi buried his face in the pillows making the Alpha hum appreciatively at the sight.

“You like my scent pretty Omega,” Hoseok smiled

Yoongi squirmed whining,“..‘m not pretty,” Hoseok grabbed a stray belt from the floor and crawled up his body wanting to protest the omega’s words.

“I brought you here so that I can concentrate on you and make sure you are okay, whatever you do, don’t take this off. He wrapped the belt around Yoongi’s neck and tightened it so his neck was covered.

Yoongi’s eyes glistened back arching from the bed, “Please”

Yoongi was in ecstasy, he felt full and the pleasure was tingling deep inside him was almost maddening. He watched Hoseok’s muscles ripple the way his biceps were strained and the roll of his hips was quick, precise, and rhythmic like a dancer. Yoongi only knew Hoseok and his body begged for more, his hands clasping the alpha and bringing him closer, his neck extending to the side.

Hoseok pinned Yoongi’s hands down leaving him a whining mess. Yoongi didn’t have much time to think as Hoseok's hand grabbed the belt and pulled not hard but enough to notice a difference in his breathing. Yoongi gasped “Hoseok please,”

Yoongi was so close and something about the look in Hoseok’s eye made his body tighten. Hoseok’s face contorted teeth bared as his hips stuttered, the belt loosened as Hoseok’s body shook and something warm. No, Hot. Something very hot, filled Yoongi, it was stretching him and pressing against him. Yoongi wondered if Hoseok had somehow grown inside him, that wasn’t possible.

“Hoseok?” he called

“Fuck Yoongi, I am so sorry, I tried to stop it but I got carried away,” Hoseok scooped up Yoongi and pressed him to his chest turning to sit with Yoongi on top. Taking off the belt, Hoseok hugged the Omega and allowed him to sleep against him. “It’s midnight sleep.”

Yoongi woke the only light coming from the small alarm clock reading one-thirty. He tried to move but felt stuck in place. Something was inside him, something big, he felt awfully full and there were strong arms wrapped around holding him in place. He tried to move and felt a hand gently rub his lower back.

“Try not to move, we are going to be stuck for a while…” Hoseok muttered sleepily, “until it goes away”

“What goes away?” Yoongi looked between them squinting

“The knot,” Hoseok pulled Yoongi’s head back onto his shoulder, I accidentally knotted inside you”

“Oh,” Yoongi mumbled, nuzzling a little more against Hoseok’s shoulder. Watching the time pass literally, Yoongi was thankful when the knot disappeared and he lifted himself off of Hoseok only to let out a deep cry. Hoseok turned on the bedside light confused.

“What's wrong?” Hoseok called alert. Yoongi was staring between his thighs as a warm sticky liquid started to run down his legs. “Oh, um, follow me to the shower,”

Hoseok started the shower and Yoongi stepped in but was surprised when Hoseok stepped in the shower with him drawing the curtain. The two cleaned themselves under separate shower heads and Yoongi faced the stream of water trying to clean the oil from his chest

He gently touched Yoongi’s neck and Yoongi felt his heart race turning to Hoseok. “What are you doing?”

“You have no idea how much I want to mark you as mine,” Hoseok muttered frantically, turning the water on his side of the shower to freezing, dunking his head under the stream. “Do you feel any pain or aches anywhere, I can get you painkillers?” Hoseok said, turning off his shower and stepping out, and wrapping himself in a towel.

“My legs feel like jelly but otherwise I don’t feel bad,” Yoongi said, realizing he didn’t thank the Alpha for taking care of him. “Thank you, for taking care of me, for making sure I didn’t hurt,”

“Come on little omega time to dry and go back to bed,” Hoseok held out a towel and Yoongi stepped out letting him wrap him in a towel. The two went back to Hoseok’s room and Yoongi blushed, smelling their mixed scents in the air and even more so on the sheets.

“Put this on,” Hoseok gave Yoongi a baggy sweater and the sleeves covered his hands, and smelt so spicy and warm like Hoseok. He took a deep sniff of the collar and Hoseok chuckled softly. Before Yoongi curled up against him and fell asleep to Hoseok's steady breathing.

Tags: @staerryminimini

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