#the relationship between the men is something we’re told exists but…. I don’t feel it. I don’t like them as characters. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jemgirl86 · 10 months

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So, in the past 2 days, with 2 different friends, I’ve discussed actors being asked questions about shipping. And I’ve come to the conclusion, probably because I’m an elder millennial lol, and can remember before the words “shipping” and “fandom” were tossed around in casual conversation, and also because I’ve watched a shit ton of tv, that I might have a fairly unpopular, or at least different, opinion about the whole thing.

Quick note: I’m not picking on anything or anybody. This is just my two cents…

Okay, so, I think my main problem with this whole thing is twofold:

1. I’m sick of how these questions are being asked.

2. I’m sick of all parties involved acting brand new.

When I say I’m sick of the framing what I mean is, I’m tired of “fandom” and or fandom shit being brought up by interviewers and being used as a scapegoat/reason for them to ask questions they were always going to ask anyway, and have been asking about couples on various shows since FOREVER lol.

What do I mean? Well, at its core, the Syd/Carmy dynamic - the way it is presented and written, whether anyone wants to admit it or not - is a “will they/won’t they” relationship, in the most classic sense. Now, “will they, won’t they” might not have have been the original plan when the show was developed, which is often the case. They might’ve gotten to set and the actors just had natural chemistry together. However, at this point, the writing and direction has fed into it, also whether they intended to or not, at least to a certain degree, and no this isn’t a “men and women can’t be friends” thing, lol, they’re already friends on the show, and that doesn’t have to change, but their friendship isn’t stopping the other tension from bleeding through.

It’s a tale as old as time… Sam & Diane… David & Madelyn… Fran & Maxwell… Kyle & Maxine… Jim & Pam… Mulder & Scully… Janine & Gregory… etc etc, I could literally go on forever, especially if I started counting soap opera couples lol. These “we work together, or spend a lot of time together, it’s kind of antagonist, but in a fun way, we could be friends, or even enemies, sometimes we might legitimately fight, but also, sometimes it looks like we might kiss” relationships between the male and female leads have always existed, and interviewers have always discussed them, and questioned the actors about them, and it ain’t got shit to do with anything fandom posts online.

Which is why the following excerpt annoyed tf out of me:

She’s also been made aware of the (seemingly) sizable group of Carmy-Sydney shippers that have appeared, rising from the Twitter mist to declare their allegiances to an imaginary romance. These fan theories are something of a pain point for Edebiri, who says she is grateful that people are so engaged with the show, but that it’s “frustrating.” She adds: “It’s really not our thought process when we’re making the show, and I understand it can be part of a show’s culture — but I don’t think they’re going to get what they want.” Gordon told THR that while she also doesn’t subscribe to the shipper theories, she believes it’s a testament to the work of Storer, White, and Edebiri that they’re able to create something so passionate. “I think it’s incredibly cool to have this dynamic onscreen that isn’t romantic, but that feels charged and sexy,” she said.

Narratively speaking, Edebiri isn’t actually sure that Carmy should be in a relationship with anyone (“It’s TV, do you want to see Walter White go to therapy and then reunite with his family?” she asks with a laugh), but admits that she can’t resist falling — platonically! — for the character’s complicated charms. “I love this little fucked up guy in the kitchen,” she says before quickly self-editing. “Or wait, this messed-up guy.” (The more she reads her own interviews, the more she sees her own explicit language: “I think I do it when I’m telling a joke, like I’m putting a swear in there to let you know I’m saying a joke — it’s something for me to reflect on.”)

At this point, I remember — and bring up — a tweet I saw recently, that drew a line between the many years that Succession fans spent caring (deeply) about the show’s (deeply) damaged men and the way they were able to quickly jump to the stage of “babygirlifying” the men of The Bear. She looks aghast, the parasocial implications a step too far even for someone from her inherently online cohort. “That is so Internet,” she manages, her expression a flash of the face-acting that has become a hallmark of her Emmy-nominated performance.

That entire passage was weird and not because of “fandom,” or because a fan got out of pocket, but because a journalist working in the entertainment industry forgot how to do their job, and it made an actress not give the answer (I’d like to think) she’d give if she’d been asked the standard question.

Whoever the hell worked at Entertainment Tonight back in the day: “So are David & Maddie finally going to get together this season?”

Bruce Willis, in 1986 probably: “Well, ET anchor, you’ll just have to watch and see” *winks at camera*

Is that a real quote? No. Is that exactly like something I’ve heard before. Yes. Like… this is not rocket science lol. I have seen a version of that question asked (and answered) hundreds of times throughout my entire life about various tv couples without making it a big weird thing, whether they bring up fans or not. Hell, the journalist could’ve said: “Will Syd & Carmy ever get together? Viewers are dying to know.” And it would’ve been fine, totally normal, but instead they wrote all that and made it as weird as possible, to what? Throw fandom culture and shipping under the bus I guess…

But, see, my beef with this, and situations like this one in particular is, this isn’t a shipping issue. This isn’t an interviewer springing a question on an actor about a fanon relationship that no person with a functioning brain or any sense of reality could ever think would go canon. This isn’t someone asking about something impossible, some MCU fanon ship that only the most delusional 12 year old in the world would think they were ever going to see date anywhere other than their own Google Doc.

Whether you like Syd/Carmy or think they have all the chemistry of a wet paper towel, realistically, you still know that them getting together isn’t something TPTB at their particular studio will never allow… they’re just something that hasn’t happened yet, that might never happened, but still, at this point, just hasn’t happened yet. Something that one of the leads refers to as a “charged and sexy” dynamic.

I don’t know how to break it to the interviewer or the segment of society that seems to have gotten amnesia, and forgotten one of the oldest tv tropes around, but a “charged and sexy dynamic” between two leads on a show that hasn’t yet ended is a… ding ding ding, you guessed it folks, a “will they, won’t they” dynamic.

And here’s the thing, most of The Bear’s viewers and probably most of the people who think Syd & Carmy would be cute together NEVER stick a toe in fandom, will never ever read a fanfic, might not even know what all fandom entails, they’re just like the boomer guy I see at the coffee machine sometimes, they enjoyed the show and think “Carmy & Syd would be good for each other” lmaooo. They watch it the way I watch The Good Wife lol. They don’t ship Carmy/Syd - they’ve literally never heard that word used like that before. And they’re definitely not about to engage with other fans online in any significant way, it’s a water cooler show for them… much like Cheers actually.

Soooo leave fandom and fans, and the tweets you saw on Twitter, and the fics that got posted on ao3 out of your questions… and out of your answers too, tbh. Because at the end of the day, if everyone was honest with themselves for five fucking seconds, Syd & Carmy don’t fall into the “will they, won’t they” category because some people involved in online fandom, in any capacity, posted anything on ao3, Tumblr, Twitter, or anywhere else. Fandom as we know it could have never existed, and an entertainment journalist would still be asking Ayo & Jeremy something related to the potential of their characters’ having a romantic relationship, and anyone who’s ever watched a television show before damn well knows it. So, stop framing it as questions you’re bringing up because of shipping nonsense from a crazy fandom, frame it the same way you would’ve in 1986, before Twitter, and leave fandom out of it. If people want to be pissy they need to save it for the fans @‘ing actors with nonsense, and the fans ready to riot over fanon ships they knew were never going to happen. But being mad at someone who sees the possibility of a Syd/Carmy pairing at this point would be like being mad at someone in 1993 for thinking Maxwell Sheffield and Nanny Fine might end up together…

Ijs… if you wouldn’t frame that person as crazy because they saw an “imaginary romance,” then maybe look deeper lol.

It seems like I’m picking on The Bear in this rambling mess lol, but they’re just a recent example, so I used them because I’m tired of people conflating two issues. Yes, asking actors shipping questions is weird… when you’re doing it about two characters, you, me, the milk man, the lady down the street and the man on the moon, all know will never get together. But… ummm no, a reporter asking Cybil Shepherd in 1985 if her & Bruce Willis’ characters would eventually be together actually wouldn’t have been weird, and I think everyone knew that back then, so I’m trying to figure out why people are pretending not to know it now.

Yes, some people in fandom are unhinged: acting nutsy bobos because their ship that truly was just a ship didn’t go canon, even though even the Scarecrow could’ve told them it wasn’t going to happen; seeing queerbait where there was never queerbait; contacting writers/actors/etc. directly with their thoughts, opinions, and fantasies 🤢, instead of DM’ing that mess to their cousin/sister/friend or sharing it on their blog (lol) like a normal person. However, sometimes, really, a lot of time, it’s not the fandom at all. In fact, the fandom be minding their own fucking business, and the journalists (and actors) wouldn’t even know about fandom stuff if they didn’t go poking around.

And other times, times like this one, stuff gets framed as being nutty shipper shit, when it’s just regular viewer shit. Because, again, no reporter ever waited until Niles and Daphne kissed on screen to ask either actor if their characters would ever get together, so I need this journalist and others like them to please spare me the bullshit of acting like the only reason they fixed their mouth to ask Ayo about the possibility of Syd/Carmy was because of some “shippers” and “their allegiances to an imaginary romance.”

There is only one reason I could see any entertainment journalist back in the day, pre-internet, not asking about the possibility of a romance between these two characters in particular, and it ain’t got shit to do with their dynamic.

But that’s another long ass rambling post for another slow work day lol.

Idk how to wrap this up other than to say, fans and fandoms as a whole are more visible now than ever before. And lately the behavior of some fans has been off the hook lol (though realistically I’d argue that some of that behavior is sometimes encouraged, in one way or another, by TPTB), but that doesn’t mean we have to overcorrect by blaming fandoms for things that they aren’t responsible for, and it really doesn’t mean that we have to start acting like online fan communities created things that have existed, long before the online fan community in question. Folks are so mad at all fandoms and all fans, they can’t even tell the difference between the musings of an obsessed stan & the general curiosities of a casual viewer, and it’s got honest to god journalists conflating rabid shipping discourse with “oh I think they’d be cute together,” and forgetting that casual viewers even exist and still have opinions, and it’s very very weird.

Bring Back Normal Interviews 2024 lol

ETA: You want to know what’s funny? As I’ve said before, I don’t even want them together lol. Syd is my fave, and I think Carmy is about to (unintentionally) ruin her life. But, still, I couldn’t bite my tongue, so to speak, because it really grinds my gears when a bunch of people expect me to sit back and pretend I don’t see the same themes and dynamics I’ve seen countless times, and pretend that I’m only seeing certain questions being asked because of fans on Twitter… even though we all know that’s not true 🙃

ETA Again: Since I referenced it more than once, I feel like it’s only fair to mention that Moonlighting is actually infamous for being the reason that a lot of times even when the chemistry is off the charts between two leads on a popular show, TPTB will refuse to put them together. The episode of Moonlighting where the two main characters finally got together was the most watched episode… but it was all downhill from there. It ruined the show according to everyone and their mamas lol (though that’s not entirely fair). Anyway, the tension and chemistry and buildup was suddenly gone, and the show was no longer fun. The story goes that viewers gave up on it, and it became a cautionary tale about how you should always make the “will they, won’t they” of it all last as long as possible, or your show might die lol

#the bear #sydcarmy #syd x carmy #i will probably delete this later #of course shipping questions are weird #but this was only a shipping question because of the interviewer #in general asking an actor about the romantic future of their character on a tv show isn’t weird… and it’s not a question of shipping #TYPICALLY #it only gets weird if the interviewer makes it weird

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theleakypen · 1 year

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Rules: Pick ten of your fics, scroll to somewhere in the middle, pick a chunk of lines, and share it! Then tag ten people, if you'd like.

I was tagged by @shadaras in aggregate and I am likewise tagging all my writerly friends who see this! :P

I have 8 pages of works on AO3, so i’m gonna pick a couple of my oldest fics and then one from every newer page. :D It’s kinda fun to look at my progression as a writer over the last five years or so.

1. In The Garden - The Arcana (Visual Novel), Julian/Apprentice, Explicit

Julian’s moans are punctuated by half-uttered curses as I work. I can feel his hips trying to buck and I can sense that it arouses him further that he can’t. His right hand still covers my left but he hasn’t stopped me messing with the wound. I think he’s leaving that hand there as permission. Something about that cool palm, those long fingers, covering my own makes me feel safe.

2. But, After All, I Am A Wen - The Untamed (TV), currently pre-relationship for ChengQing, Teen and Up

“Look,” Jiang Cheng says, exasperated, when Sect Master Yao asks for what feels like the fifth time why the Sunshot Campaign should go out of its way to help someone from the Wen clan. “They didn’t have to take us in when Lotus Pier burned. In fact, it was dangerous for them to take us in when we were being directly targeted by Wen Chao. They didn’t have to take in and heal Song Zichen either and it’s thanks to him that my jiejie was able to make it safely to Lanling. Hanguang-jun and I found Wen Qing in the dungeon of the Yiling Supervisory Office. It was the Wen sect that put her there. She’s demonstrated multiple times that she’s on our side.”

3. “Rolling Down to Old Maui” but it’s the Five Great Sects Night Hunting - The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi, Filk, General Audiences

Once more we fly over mountains high, To the home of Qishan Wen. Our dire crows, our lava flows, We soon shall see again. Fully half our force was carried away Into the Burial Mound— The living dead are after us, Thank the gods we’re homeward bound.

4. Friendship Famous in Story and Song - The Untamed, Juniors friendship, General Audiences

“I don’t think I’ve ever told stories around a campfire either,” Lan Sizhui said. “I mean, when I was travelling with Wen-qiánbèi, we’d tell each other stories, but mostly it was answering each other’s questions about our past. I don’t think those are the kind of things you mean, are they, Jingyi?”

“Well,” Lan Jingyi replied, hedging. “It could be, if that’s where the night turns to. But, well, no, usually it’s existing stories. Here, you suggested it, why don’t you start us off, Zizhen-xiōng?”

5. Rivers and Lakes, Towns and Cities - The Untamed/MDZS, Middle Earth AU SongXiao, General Audiences

Song Zichen taught him the ways of Men, and together they wandered the rivers and lakes, the towns and cities, of Rhûn. They bargained at market stalls and spoke with great dragons, defended small farms and great merchant caravans. And when Xiao Xingchen began to look with longing west toward the Sea of Rhûn, Song Zichen smiled his dry little smile and said that he knew a ship’s captain familiar with long sea voyages.

6. Sun Showers - Rogue One, Baze/Chirrut, General Audiences

Baze watches him from inside the doorway of the temple, marveling at the way water droplets sparkle on his hair, in his lashes, so that he seems gilded in the sun.

7. On Naihe Bridge - MDZS, Wen Qing & Qin Su in the afterlife, General Audiences

The last doctor of Qishan Wen looks at the bowl between her hands for a long time; it never loses its warmth, no matter how long she waits.

8. before we face our deaths - The Untamed, Jin Zixuan/Nie Huaisang, General Audiences

"We might all die soon." He's surprised by the words as they leave his mouth. He's faced death before — in the Xuanwu cave; on the way back to Lanling with Jiang Cheng, hiding from Wen sect patrols; on every night hunt, technically. This is different, though. Deliberately going out to meet other cultivators in battle. Perhaps it's no surprise that he can't sleep.

9. not familiar but friend - The Murderbot Diaries, Queerplatonic Murderbot & Mensah, Queerplatonic Murderbot & ART, Fantasy AU, General Audiences

Hmmm, ART said, lifting its head. We waited. I didn't fidget only because I wasn't capable of it. You may stay. The giant head swung around to face Mensah again. ArcUnit's bed is still where it was. You may use it until I ready a better space for you.

10. I’d Call As You Climbed - Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021), Caitlyn/Vi, Teen and Up

Somehow, this, more than anything, took Caitlyn aback. Sorley was clearly just a bully, but this person with their little gang seemed—well, they had rescued Caitlyn, whether either of them would admit it or not. The depth of contempt in the word “topsider,” from a seemingly decent person, shocked Caitlyn.

#puck writes #tumblr tag games #fanfic #arcane netflix #the murderbot diaries #the untamed #陈情令 #mo dao zu shi #魔道祖师 #arcana visual novel #arcana game #filk

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sukirichi · 3 years

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wine: ingredient 44 + sugar 7 + spice 12 for gojo satoru *slams table* thank you for feeding us kind maam

for sukirichi’s milestone event:

the meal order : 🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) your dinner has been served! also bruh LOL you’re a choso simp this is hilarious spspsps

— who are you to deny him when he only wants to worship you?

gojo satoru x fem! reader

contents/warnings: nsfw, slight angst, reader is hot girl shit, gojo long schlong, hate sex, car sex, spanking, riding gojo, slight angst, praising kink taken to a DIFFERENT LEVEL (i want to make people question the extent of their praising kink), body marking, rough sex lol it’s always rough in my stories, unedited

Your friends pushed you out of the club, all of you laughing, hands clutched around your waists as loud, drunken giggles fill in the night air. It was a wild night; your friends invited you to the club to take your mind off your stupid boyfriend. You thought you’d end up moping around, too much of a buzzkill to ever let loose because it wasn’t that easy to stop thinking about him, but even you were surprised when you started grinding with people on the dance floor just three drinks later.

The gals were more than delighted to see you enjoying your night, only dragging you out the club when you nearly shoved your tongue down another man’s throat.

Scratch that – your friends called you to hang out because you lied about having a shitty day at work. You’ve had your fair share of shitty days, but you were one of the most prominent lawyers in your firm, no one dared gave you a bad day. Your subordinates knew that if they even looked your way without your permission, you wouldn’t hesitate to dump paperwork on them, or assign them to the nastiest cases just to piss them off.

Yeah, you were sort of a bitch, but you didn’t care.

It took a lot to get where you were now. It wasn’t easy to be a woman in a male-dominated workplace and you were forced to strip your softness off, replacing it with hard armor and sharp tongue concealed under bold red lips, a tight pencil skirt that accentuated your curves, and a pair of black suede pumps.

You deserved all your success. You were smart, stunning, confident, powerful – so then why did you feel like shit around your shitty boyfriend?

The answer was loud and clear. It bothered you to no end that he wanted to keep your relationship a secret because his family was too different from yours, coming up with a shitty excuse that you were just “too different.” He never bothered explaining, and every time you confronted him about, he’d only wave his hand, distract you with those delicious and soft lips of his until you forget it over and over again.

You were okay with it at first. It wasn’t a really serious relationship; you only started dating him because you saw yourself a lot in him – confident, self-assured, maybe even a little cocky – plus, he was extremely attractive.

But the longer you spent time with him, you were beginning to fall in love.

Yes, you, the ice princess of one of the most respected law firms all over the city was beginning to soften up at a certain blue-eyed man who had magical hands.

But tonight – tonight you’d forget about him.

Your stomach was heavy with expensive liquor and you were nearly staggering on your knees, the only thing preventing you from falling were your more sober friends. The others were holding you close to keep you upright, while one of your friends moved to a quieter part of the block to call an Uber for you. Your friends were all happily married, some with children, so they couldn’t really stay out too late at night and chaperone you all the way back home.

You were well-aware you were being a bother, but fuck, couldn’t you lean on someone for just once? Sighing, you leaned closer to your warm friend, mumbling something about wanting to forget about everything you’ve been through.

“There, there,” she patted your head comfortingly, “You’ll be fine, babe, you’re a strong woman. I know you’ll get through this.”

“But I hate it,” you drunkenly admitted, lips trembling the more you thought about him, every stupid little thing about him – his soft white hair, those pretty blue eyes he always hid under shades even at night, his large, calloused hands that always felt so rough when keeping your legs open for him and you couldn’t even start talking about his cock, he was just so blessed and perfect in every little thing that you hated it. You hated him. “I don’t like this feeling,” you sniffled, “I feel like I’m being looked down on, that I’m being pushed to the side. I feel unimportant, like I’m not good enough.”

“Who said you aren’t?”

You froze in your friend’s arms, eyes meeting with those blue ones you could never get enough of. As if noticing your silence, your friend immediately covers you with her arm, glaring at your boyfriend. “Do we know you or something?”

“No,” Satoru replies coolly, brows furrowed in the state you were in. You turned away from him with a scoff, arms crossed on your chest. Why did he have to be here out of all places? Wasn’t he busy with work or whatever family shit he apparently couldn’t tell you about even though you’ve both been dating for a year and a half now? He just wasn’t giving you a break, and the hairs on your arm stood up when he said, “Not that you have to, but may I please drive Y/N home?”

“She’s not going anywhere—”

“She’s a friend of mine,” he insisted, turning to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You almost melted. Almost. “I need to talk to her about something.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped forward, your friend’s arm latching onto yours. You could tell she was worried from the way her gaze darted back and forth between you two. Satoru was, after all, clearly uninvited, and he didn’t seem like your type either. You always insisted you preferred refined man, men like his friend Nanami Kento, but alas, you were stuck dating this one instead.

“It’s fine,” you told her with a fake smile, “I’ll call you later when I get home.”

You never got to call her – simply because you didn’t make it home. The moment Satoru closed the car doors behind you, you both got into a heated argument. Satoru hated silences and always made sure the car was filled with music, but this time, he didn’t notice there weren’t any songs when you opened your mouth.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the anger and pent-up tension of not being able to hold him and kiss him in public like normal couples did, in addition to the fact Satoru never explained why he insisted on keeping you a secret – whatever it was, you just snapped.

“I don’t even understand why I’m still dating you!” you huffed, legs crossed on top of the other as you gazed out the window. Lips trembling, you tried so hard to not cry, especially not in front of the man who was breaking your heart. “This is hardly a relationship when I’m not free to call or text you as you please, when I can’t go out with you on dates and we’re always hanging in my apartment. I’m your girlfriend, Satoru, we’ve been together for a long time but I honestly don’t even feel like it. What the hell are we dating for then?”

Satoru clenched his teeth, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you,” he said coolly, acting unbothered and unaffected as ever, but the clench in his jaw said otherwise. “If that’s not enough—”

“Of course it’s not enough!”

“I’m trying here too, okay?” Satoru slammed on the brakes and parked on a desolated spot, hands running through his hair while he breathed heavily. Once he’d calmed down, he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eye like a man. “I’m trying my best. It’s just hard. It isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“What isn’t easy as it looks? Dating me? Letting the whole world know I’m yours?” when Satoru didn’t respond, you scoffed, patience running low and thin. “You’re pathetic, Satoru. Dating you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I thought I was a smart woman.”

With a shake of your head, you slung your purse over your shoulder and reached for the car door. You were about to leave when Satoru suddenly pulled you towards him, his lips slamming into yours. Like always, you fell into his trap, into the blissful pleasure that was his lips and his hands, and you hated it, hated him, hated him so fucking much because you were so tired of his entire existence.

You wanted to let him know he was insufferable.

You wanted him to feel the pain and misery he put you through.

“I fucking hate you,” you snarled as Satoru kept fucking into you, the entire car windows fogged and the vehicle shaking. “I wish I never met you, you asshole,” Satoru, displeased, only buries himself deeper into you, as if they would erase his mistakes and shortcomings.

Satoru’s large hands snake to your waist and onto your breasts, expertly tweaking them between his fingers. Your head fell back to the crook of his shoulder, your back pressed against his hard chest as Satoru trapped you in his strong arms, impaling you on his cock over and over again. “You’re lying,” he whispered into your neck, tongue and teeth playfully sucking at the tender flesh. His grip on your hip was bruising and possessive, and your breasts bounced fervently at how he snapped his hips upwards to feel your walls coat him and hug him tightly and warmly. “Why would you hate me, sweet girl? Don’t I always make you feel good? Don’t I remind you enough that you’re the best fucking thing ever?”

You didn’t respond right away, your breath taken away with how you could never get enough of this, of him. He was right no matter how much you denied it. Despite being terrible in everything else, Satoru knew and respected you, even admired your dominance and intelligence when other men were intimidated by it.

No, he worshipped you. He made you feel like you were a divine goddess when he tugged at your hair to tilt your cheek to him, his tongue slithering to your lips to taste himself on his tongue from when you previously busted his nut with just your mouth.

Lipsticks smeared on his cheeks and crescent moons on his pale thigh from your nails, Satoru looked wonderful beneath you like this.

He was beautiful, so damn beautiful, but it didn’t change the fact he’d put you through hell these past few weeks.

No, it wasn’t just the past few weeks. Things were always complicated with him. He was perfect in everything else but when it came to you, he made it a mission to hide you and your relationship, changing your contact name to a totally random one “just in case.”

Your mind was confuzzled and you felt like you were on the urge of breaking apart from both his ministrations and his confusing treatment over you. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back fervently with the intensity of your hatred over this man.

Your hand reached his to guide it to rub at your clit, and Satoru, eager to make you feel good as always, happily obliged. Satoru kept bouncing you on his cock until you were too overwhelmed to speak, crying and mumbling incomprehensible words.

Him, only him, would ever have the ability to let the sharp-tongued and intelligent woman who never bat an eye in court lose her wide vocabulary, falling apart in his arms while his long length abused your puffy lips.

“You made me feel like shit,” you finally admitted, tugging at his hair until Satoru is lowly groaning at the slight sting. But did you care? Of course you didn’t. You wanted to hurt him too.

“How so, sweet girl?”

“I can never have you the way I want,” you answered through gritted teeth, moaning out when Satoru suddenly thrusted too deep, hitting your most sensitive spot that had you quivering in his hold. “You don’t—” you gasped, “You don’t understand what I feel, how you make me feel like I’m never good enough for you. That’s the reason why you don’t want anyone else knowing, right? ‘Cause I’m not good enough for you, never gonna be good—”

Satoru didn’t let you finish your words, shutting you up with his cock instead. The vehicle shook uncontrollably with your mating sessions, and Satoru silences you by pulling at your leg to press it on his chest instead.

The sudden switch in positions had your muscles tensing and stretching, adding only to both your pleasures with the new thrown in factor of slight pain. You felt Satoru kiss your neck down to your shoulders, scraping his canines until you were absolutely lost. You gave in, you gave up, head lolling back next to his loving lips that murmured sweet nothings.

“Not true, sweet girl,” he reminded you, flattening you on his cock and making you roll your hips while you slid up and down his pole sensually. Unlike the previous pace, the slow sensation of your pussy hugging his cock with your arousal letting him slide in easily allowed you to feel every part of him, almost mind-wrecking at how good he’s able to make you feel even after such a long time of having him already.

“You’re the sexiest and most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, the best, the absolute blessing of my life, and I just want to protect you, sweet girl. You’re too precious for me to lose,” Satoru kept mumbling over and over again.

You could no longer process his words functionally, not when he’s slamming you down his length like that and burying himself in you as if he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Satoru’s hands were still curious, appreciative and gentle as he runs his hands, dipping into all your curves and pressing into your most sensitive spots the way you liked it.

“You’re always so good for me so no, sweet girl, never gonna let you go, not when you’re so perfect for me,” Satoru eased your worries – temporarily – with his words, and you’d believe his lie, you’d fall into the same mistakes over and over again because you were just that weak and powerless when it came to him. “You’re made just for me, sweet girl, you’re the prettiest and your pussy is the prettiest – I worship you, I adore you. You’re so divine.”

You blamed it all on your ego.

He praised you so well, made you feel so good and always placed you on top of the world when he’s inside you like this. Even if you knew he’d knock you down the pedestal just hours later, you opened your doors for him all over again.

Satoru knew this too, because he rammed inside your walls and ruined everything that you held firm beliefs in, his large hands smacking your ass to urge you to bounce on him like you weren’t made for any other purpose than to be the woman he adored.

You lied to yourself – you always did – but did you care? So what if you couldn’t be the one he really loved? What did it all matter when you were the one he worshipped?

For the sake of the praise and the compliments, you’d let him fuck you and play with your heart over and over again. It was a toxic routine you’d never get tired of, and you no longer complained, forgetting about everything he’d done and every heartbreak he caused you because he was there, whispering into your ears how good you made him feel and how you were the only one made to take him, and you didn’t care. Not anymore – not when you were worshipped.

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heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Drivers License

(inspired by drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.5k

And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about

This song is so sad and it made me cry so I had to write something about it 🤧

“I love the song.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N chewed on her bottom lip, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “But?” she asked her producer, who was on the phone. “You don’t sound like you love it.”

“Of course I love it, Y/N. It’s just–” Came a pause. “Do you really want this to be the next single?”

“What do you mean? You love it but it’s not good enough to be a single?”

“It’s too good, Y/N,” her producer said. “It’s very...personal.”

“That’s why I want to put it out, Gray. It means a lot to me.”

Gray was quiet for another moment. “The media and his fans are going to come for you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright. I’ll call you back.” Gray sounded defeated but she could still sense a smile as he told her, “Good job, kid,” before hanging up.

Y/N put her phone away, tossed her head back and heaved a sigh. She was well aware of the trouble she’d cause by releasing this song. It’d be like showing the whole world her diary. She’d written plenty of songs on her previous albums about her relationships, too. There had been witch hunts simply because the men she’d written songs about had fans who worshipped them and refused to see them as anything less than perfect. She wasn’t perfect, either. If she were perfect, she wouldn’t have written a song about an ‘almost’ relationship. She’d know her worth and not have chased someone who didn’t and would never want her. She knew that now. So this song would be the last thing she’d give this person. The last goodbye that she never got to say.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing.”

“Let me see,” Y/N giggled and tried to grab his phone as he pretended to fight her off.

“Alright, alright.” He laughed, reached out to turn the music in his car down and handed her the phone. “It’s the memes your fans made about you not being able to drive,” he said, suppressing a grin.

Her jaw dropped. “I hate you!”

“I’m sorry. It slipped out,” he said, laughing again. She could listen to his laugh on replay. She loved his music, but his laugh had to be her most favourite melody. “To be fair, you talked a lot of shit about me in that interview, too.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she scoffed at the smug look he was wearing. “At least I didn’t tell the whole world about your imaginary friend that you had until you were thirteen. You spilt my secret.”

“Not a secret anymore.”

She playfully smacked him on the arm. “My lawyer will hear about this.”

He pouted, pretending to be upset. “Guess we’ll never work together anymore.”

“Acting is not for me anyway.”

Y/N gave Harry back his phone. He took it but didn’t break eye contact as his brows knitted. “Stop saying that. You were great in the movie.”

She rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Oh please, have you been on the internet?”

“You mean my fans’ reactions, right? Just ignore them.” He breathed. “I mean, I love my fans, but they could be too much sometimes. Just look at all my previous relationships. I can’t even breathe around a female without them sending her death threats.”

“Yeah,” Y/N let out a nervous laugh, hands folded together resting on her knees. “Speaking of relationships,” she ventured, “are you talking to someone new?”

She wasn’t looking at him yet she could feel the heat from his gaze as he told her, “No. I already told you, Y/N. Right now there’s just you.”

Harry turned, putting both hands on his steering wheel. Was he nervous as well? Had she ruined the moment by bringing this up?

He took a deep breath, confirming her assumption. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just not ready for a relationship.”

It was the same line he’d told her times and times again, and she wished she could just tell him how much she loathed it. And since she couldn’t say anything, she just nodded and focused on the rings on her fingers.

“I do care a lot about you, though,” he added, his voice heavy with emotions.

Her friends had told her that men would say things like this, and most of the time they barely meant half of it. However, she’d known Harry for years. Their relationship had only changed since they’d been cast for the same movie earlier this year. She was confident that she knew him better than her friends or anyone else. Surely, he’d meant all the things he’d said to her. The problem was, he just wasn’t ready for a relationship.

“And I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he said, now looking at her again.

She turned slowly and met his thoughtful green eyes. She offered a single smile as a way to tell him she wasn’t upset, even though she was, a little bit. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she admitted.

His dimples reappeared. “I feel like it’s rare for people like us to find a connection like this, and I’ve never opened up to anyone the way I have to you. But I think now isn’t the time for us to take the risk of ruining this. Right now we’re still trying to figure out our own lives, you know?”

She nodded again, not knowing what to say.

They sat quietly for another moment, and it was he who broke the silence. “How come you never learn to drive?”

She could feel her cheeks glowing red. “I never had to drive myself.”

She’d been famous since she was fourteen, so she’d always had people driving her places. Whenever she told anyone that reason, they’d either call her spoiled to her face or give her a judgemental look that made her feel self-conscious. She didn’t have a dad or siblings, her mum didn’t know how to drive, either, and she was too afraid to ask anyone to teach her for she feared they’d judged her.

“I could teach you.”

Y/N whipped her head up and blinked blankly at him. “Really?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “I have a cousin who didn’t learn to drive when he was young because of his anxiety and I taught him. I could teach you.”

Trying to hide her excitement, Y/N smiled. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” His grin widened even though he was the one doing her a favour. It was moments like this that reassured her that he wasn’t like the other guys who’d broken her heart. “When you got your driver license,” he said, “you can drive up to my house on your own.”

“We can even go on road trips,” she said happily, already imagining the many scenarios in her head.

He seemed equally elated, which made her heart swell. “Yeah! Wanna do it now or–”

“Let’s do it now.”

“Yeah, okay.” Quickly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. She climbed into the driver seat and watched him settle into the passenger side. That afternoon was the first time she’d learned how to drive. She would always remember that.

“Y/N, you’re up next,” said one member of the backstage staff who handed Y/N her mic and ran off to check on the backing vocalist.

Y/N felt her heart thumping in her chest as she clutched the microphone to her chest and sucked in a deep breath. She looked to her right, peering at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She looked beautiful. The makeup team and her stylist had spent three hours on this look and made sure that she was flawless.

Would he be watching the show tonight?

Had he even listened to the song?

It got to number one on the iTunes chart today. He must have listened to it. If not, he must have heard it on the radio or someone must have sent it to him. The whole world knew the song was for him, and everyone was talking about it. So even though he didn’t care anymore, even though he was happy with his new girlfriend, he must be wondering. Because when she’d heard that he’d written a song about her, she’d been so excited to listen to it. So could it be that he was wondering as well?

“This is Y/N performing her latest single DRIVERS LICENSE!”

Y/N took a deep breath as she got a nod from the stage director. She stepped out, soaked in the stage lights while the audience applauded and cheered for her. She stood at the centre of the stage as the band started playing and the noise in the audience died down. As a habit, she searched the front rows for his face despite knowing with every fibre in her body that this would be the last place he’d be tonight.

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

She could see it even now. Them driving through the quiet night. From her house to his and back. Just the two of them. The kisses they’d share at stoplights when there was no one else around. The way he’d place his hand on her thigh just because he wanted to. In retrospect, she should have realised that he wouldn’t ever do that to her in public. Their relationship, if she could call it that, had been almost nonexistent. Maybe that was why it’d been so easy for him to move on. You couldn’t feel remorse leaving behind something that didn’t exist. How unfortunate. It’d been real to her.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

She’d thought to herself that if he could write a song about someone he’d never dated, it was worth staying with him despite not actually being with him. She could not expect that a few months after that song had come out, he would be seen driving around with another girl. The girl he’d told her was only a good friend. This girl was older and perfect in every way. Y/N wouldn’t choose herself either if the choices were between her and that girl. But she couldn’t bring herself to hate the girl. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that Harry had chosen her. And it wasn’t Harry’s fault that Y/N refused to see the red flags through her rose-coloured glasses.

And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Y/N wrote this song a week after she’d got her drivers license. She’d blast sad music in her car and cried as she drove past his house, wondering if he was still up and thinking of her whenever he saw headlights passing his street. The heartbreak had been confusing to her as they weren’t even together. It was funny how the whole world had believed in them, except for him. He’d told her he loved her, so why weren’t they together now? He’d said he wasn’t ready, so why was he holding hands with someone else on the street? Was it because of her? Was it something that she’d done? Was there something wrong with her? Why couldn’t he choose her? Y/N had pondered over those questions for months until she came to accept that there didn’t have to be a reason for someone to leave you. They simply lost feelings or found someone else. No one owed you an explanation.

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

For months, he'd been a ghost living rent-free in her head. She saw him in every face and every crowd, and she could even, in this moment, hear the sound of his laugh somewhere in the audience. She could hear him telling her he was proud of her, that everything would be okay. And the worst part was that, without her, he was still doing fine. He wouldn’t see her everywhere he went. He wouldn’t think about her when he was lying in bed and couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t wonder if she missed him. Because he didn’t miss her. And he would be saying the same things he’d said to her to his new girl.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe (Ooh, ooh)

There on the stage, she received sympathetic looks from the people in the front row as she cried her heart out to the lyrics. He might be at home this moment, watching the show with his new girlfriend, and seeing her cry on live television. Would they laugh at her together? Would he turn to his girlfriend and say he was sorry for how he’d treated Y/N and promised to never hurt his girlfriend the same way? The most heartbreaking thing, Y/N thought, wasn’t him leaving, but seeing him treat someone the way she’d wanted to be treated and realising that he’d been capable of doing it all this time, just not with her.

I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Putting all her feelings into this song had made everything seem so much simpler and clearer. And at the end of the day, Y/N believed that the whole purpose of songwriting was to get closure. Perhaps, one day, when she listened to this song again, she wouldn’t be sad anymore.

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

“Good job, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Love the song! You’re amazing.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N faked a few more smiles then shut the door of her dressing room and slumped into her chair in front of the vanity.

All alone, she looked right at her reflection and took a deep breath.

Her phone buzzed and lit up with a new text message.

Harry: Congratulations on your no 1 :) xx

She pondered over the words, picked up her phone, and deleted his contact.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #drivers license

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mattzerella-sticks · 3 years

Note

batfam and flashfam reaction to barry and bruce dating? or the league? or the ccpd's reaction that barry is dating BRUCE WAYNE? idk

sorry this took so long! work got in the way lol

old news.

Clark set his tablet down on the conference table, retaking his seat between Diana and J’onn. “…that was all Natasha uncovered from the artillery left behind after we scared the sellers away,” he explained, “she and John think they can figure out, though, where these weapons originated from, but that might take time.”

“Do we have time?” Bruce asked, “It seems like Gotham’s infested with these guns. Just the other day Oracle’s agents were caught in the middle of a crossfire between drug runners and Peacekeepers, both groups armed with this… alien gear.”

“Playing both sides?” Kendra suggested, leaning forward in her seat, “Is it one group looking to stoke chaos by fueling fire to already heated factions, or are we seeing two sellers from the same planet jockeying for control of the market.”

“Whether it’s one or two sellers coming from the same place we don’t know,” Clark told her, “But we do know that some of the weapons smuggling groups already active aren’t happy. From what Lois says, Intergang is having issues moving their merchandise because of the damage these newer weapons can do, and they’re running their own investigation into the matter.”

“So if Intergang isn’t behind this, then can we take Apokolips out of the equation?” Barry asked, sipping some coffee. That was his eighth, the other seven, empty, Styrofoam cups littering his table space. “Since Intergang and Apokolips are pretty tight knit?”

“We can’t rule Apokolips out as being behind these weapons, unfortunately,” Diana sighed. She grabbed her own tablet, tapping the screen. A holograph lit from the center of the table, highlighting the deathly, firepit ridden planet. “Though Darkseid and Intergang have a relationship, many members of the Apokoliptian court wouldn’t think twice about underhanded dealings that might benefit them. Or, possibly, Darkseid is betraying Intergang – taking out the middleman, so to speak. Testing new weapons we haven’t seen, spreading them across Earth so we’re distracted from other matters… until Scott and Barda tell us it’s not New God tech, we have to keep this possibility in mind, like the possibility that it might be magic –“

“I’ve made your concerns aware, Diana,” Clark said, “I’ve even put the Irons in contact with Kent and Khalid. We’re open to every possibility, which reminds me… Hal? Have you updated the League database with your latest ring files?”

Hal hissed, deflating, sliding down in his seat. “Not yet. Kinda got sidetracked by that earthquake in San Juan.”

“Why don’t you do that now, then,” Clark said, “as long as no one else has anything to add?” The remainder of their League remained silent. “Good. Then I guess we’re done.”

The team began shifting from business into a more relaxed attitude. Clark and Diana started trading stories about their weeks, having not seen each other since the last meeting. Kendra crept her way towards J’onn, hands sliding across his shoulders as she whispered something in his ear that made him smile. Arthur mumbled under his breath in Atlantean, disengaged with surface drama for the moment with something on his tablet.

Hal turned to Barry, nudging him with his elbow. “Hey,” he whispered, “I was thinking drinks. You in? Course, I need to get that file download, but that shouldn’t take long. If you want to wait –“

“No.”

Both Hal and Barry whipped their heads to where Bruce sat, the other man not looking up from his tablet as he spoke. “No?” Hal asked, “What’s it to you? I wasn’t inviting you.”

“I know,” he said, “but I was answering for Barry. He can’t get drinks with you because he has a prior engagement.” Bruce’s gaze moved from the tablet to Barry, a softer expression, foreign to his usual gruff demeanor, graced his features. “A reservation for two at Girabaldi’s, tonight, seven o’clock.”

Barry glowed, lightning crackling off his body as a sign Hal recognized of his friend’s utter delight. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Bruce shrugged, “figured it might be a change of pace given our last few dates.”

No one breathed at that moment. Time slowed, Hal noticing every Leaguer situated around the table pausing what they did. Everyone seemed intrigued with the current revelation happening before them.

Barry snorted into the dregs of his last coffee. “Well… rooftops can be romantic, but it was all starting to get a bit repetitive…” he said, “And having someone else besides me deliver our food is a definite plus.”

“Wait, hold on a second!” Hal interrupted their flirting with a glowing, green wall that separated his best friend and his colleague. “What is happening?”

“We were talking, Hal,” Barry hissed, jabbing him in the stomach, “Can you can it with the lightshow?”

Bruce hissed under breath, “Rude…”

“Sorry, sorry…” Hal replied, sarcastically, making the wall bigger and more ornate, “I guess the whole you dating freakin’ Batmanof it all kinda took me off guard.”

“Kinda threw us all for a loop…” Clark added. A sharp glance from Bruce cut him down a size, causing Clark to blush and stare at his lap sheepishly. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “didn’t mean to speak out of turn.”

“Seriously,” Bruce rose, addressing the group, “none of you were aware that Barry and I’ve been dating these past few months?”

“Months?”

Sighing, pinching his brow, Bruce stood there for a beat. Then, he turned. His cape swooshed behind him as he exited. “I can’t believe this.”

Barry smiled at the others, shrugging, “We did think you all knew already, if it makes you feel any better?” He vanished from sight, too, not even bothering to clean up his litter.

Hal slumped in his chair, the green wall dissipating, almost as if it never existed. “Barry and… and Bruce? I can’t believe it.” He pointed at the door where the two men left, asking, “Seriously, did that even happen?”

“It did,” Arthur said, “It most certainly did?”

“Well, what do we do now?”

No one dared to speak, save Diana. She cleared her throat, steeping her fingers, carefully parsing through her words carefully. “We don’t do anything besides what we were already doing,” she said, “Which, for you, Hal, means uploading those files.” She collected her tablet, levelling a stern stare at the remaining Leaguers. “Understood?”

Everyone agreed. The others followed Diana from the room, leaving Hal by himself. He stretched out across the table, knocking into Barry’s empty coffee cups with a frown. “Barry and Bruce,” he muttered, “how the hell didn’t I notice… months! For months! Barry’s been putting up with Bruce’s ass for months!”

#justice league #batflash #batman #flash #batman x flash #bruce wayne x barry allen #bruce wayne #barry allen #hal jordan #clark kent #diana prince #dc comics #dcu #dc fanfic #batflash fanfic #i've been percolating this for awhile before the suggestion was even thrown my way however the set up was different #altho I do like the set up in this it feels nice

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Note

Please do 8th, I am a whore for that one!! 😗

Bitter addiction

For @drarry-is-my-therapy | Dialogueprompt: " if you bite that lip one more time, I'm going to go it for you "

⚠️- SMUT | TANGLED FEELINGS | JEALOUSY | TOP HARRY |

Someone wise said There’s a fine line between love and hate, so fine that it may even seem like a point if far into deep. And so exists a very fine line between love and lust, much mistaken often to be the same. Combining the three, love, hate and lust, were what harry felt for draco. He hated draco, loathed with every single atomic matter that ran in his veins, his muscles and his psychological being and yet he loved the way draco was, they way everything about him screamed ' watch me', effortless in every sense, like he must've been curated by Michael Angelo himself, and harry loved him like he loved the hate he had for him. The man could snap a finger and he would be the hottest, most beautiful man in any room, just like an angel had himself come down to show mercy on harry and then there was lust. The most dangerous of them all. For once harry could handle the love and the absolute hate, but lust, it drove him crazy. It kept him up nights after night in relentless sighs, moaning and whispering his name like a prayer he'd learnt since he was a child. And above all, he hated that Draco made him feel.

Harry had been with men and women, woken up with strangers and had scattered them away but that one drunken night after work had transitioned into a fixed memory, as if everyone had after him was based on such evaluation, that everyone after him would have to be analytically better than him, but he had no competition. He was one of his kind, only one of who could make harry desperate to have him writhing under him and that was Draco. Harry remembers that night vividly when they had stumbled from the bar, to the kitchen in Harry's place, sloppily kissing each other, with moans emerging out of them like a rhyme to a poetry, and the hands all over each other. He remembers kissing the side of Draco's neck, hearing that grunt that made him groan in pleasure that sent fireworks across his body and all how Draco humped for the tiniest of friction between their bodies. One thing after another, Draco was lying under Harry, moaning for more, his eyes sparkling with the tears of pleasure as he asked Harry to go faster, like he meant it and harry remembered going on and on until the last of his breath gave out and he collapsed on top of Draco, marking his neck with hickey's in hopes that he may never forget the wondrous night.

But Draco had left much before Harry could've asked him anything and harry knew the sign too well, being the one who did it too often himself. He went to work that very next morning, not seeing Draco, even though they shared a room and even the same case but all Harry thought of was the pleasured look on Draco's face.

But they never discussed that night, as if so it was only a drunken mistake and nothing was left to talk about. Harry knew it then to never get involved with Draco, yet somehow, there he was with Draco's hands pinned against the bed above his head with one of Harry's hand resting over his little waist as he fucked Draco with so much of a pleasure.

But this time, Draco left before morning with a note " thanks for a great night ~ D.m."

Harry didn't know if he should've replied or not, but somehow decided he'd talk with him over work. But like last week, he couldn't, not because there wasn't anything left off to do but because he had Found him Flirting with Jackson in Muggle artifacts department.

This happened 3 more times in total when Harry had let down his so pulled up guard with only simple words that Draco Whispered in his ears when they'd dance " I want you, harry "

It was as if, Draco too was addicted with the pleasure of feeling Harry's soft, tanned skin against his, feeling his arms as Harry fucked him over the bed, feeling of his hands being pinned and seeing in Harry's eyes. Maybe it was bitter addiction to both of them, but it was addiction.

" he's playing on something " Ron had warned harry when Harry had tried to seek some advice while they were on a usual 'bitch about' session.

" what exactly could he even play at ?"

" I don't know Harry, maybe he's wanting you to reach out to him or definitely playing hard to get. Whatever it is, it seems like friends with benefits, only you don't know how if it really is your case " Ron explained as he squinted his eyes from the narrow beam of sunlight that hit his eyes

" why would he even do that ?" Harry sighed as he slumped further in his chair " I mean I'm fine with friends with Benefits but if that's what it is, I need to know "

" you're fine with friend's with benefits?" Ron asked as though he was surprised

" I mean- yeah. It's not like it's total shit. I mean yes there's a risk of actually liking him but what most plausibly could go wrong now. I hate him, yet I like him too "

" hm- you guys always have had a pretty weird relationship " Ron hummed playing with the crystal ball from his table

" I don't know. I'd Just like to know whatever it is that we have, like is it like exclusive or friend's with benefits or if it's just some random hook-"

" is he a jealous guy ?" Ron suddenly asked leaning forward as though he was finally attentive

" what ? "

" is he the jealous type of guy ?" He asked

" I- I don't know. I haven't seen him being potentially jealous of someone around me, although he does make sure that everyone watches him when he dances with me, but I don't think that's him trying to make anyone jealous " harry shrugged

" what's your point anyways ?" Harry asked crossing his legs

" you guy's are not exclusive, not that you two know and knowing you two both won't talk about it, make it seem like whatever you two have is exclusive"

" how exactly ?" Harry asked furrowing his eyebrows

" let's say, the next time you guys hook up, you stay up, or something, tell him to go Maybe and that someone's coming over " Ron suggested

" that's a shit suggestion but I agree on what you're trying to get on. I just have to make him jealous " harry hummed as he stared at the wall behind him

" exactly. Now you just have to find someone to actually make him jealous through "

" and who would that be ?"

" hey, ron can I talk to you for a mom- oh, send me a memo, whenever you're free "

Harry looked at Ron curiously as though the wildest idea came into his head " Blaise? You got a moment ?"

________________________________

Harry grinded his body against Draco's as they danced to the low music of the bar they had gotten drunk in like every other time it happened. Harry enjoyed the sensation of feeling Draco's hands over his side's, his body pressed against his own, his breath fanning over Harry neck, swaying his body with Harry's moves and then, there it was,

" I want you, harry "

Harry smirked to himself as he still danced against Draco, ignoring the uncontrollable urge to disapparate them to his bedroom.

" I'm sorry but I got a date in a few minutes " harry replied, his voice coming more of a rasp

Draco's Hands suddenly stopped swaying, his body becoming slightly stiffer as he mumbled " you got a date?"

Harry smirked to himself as he turned around " yes, a date. I'll see you around Draco" he winked and walked off to the bar, ordering one drinking, gulping it away and then he met Blaise.

Harry made it so much sure that draco definitely saw Harry Flirtatiously Whispering in Blaise ears. And grinned happily when he found Draco was watching, with a stern face.

The whole pretend with Blaise and dodging draco went on for 2 week until Draco had to ask, he just had to.

" what's the deal between you and Blaise ?" Draco narrowed his eyes from across the table at harry as he pushed back his chair to lean backwards

Harry looked down from where he was standing finding some file with an amused smile " nothing special. Why do you ask ?"

" no reason, apart from the fact that it seems unrealistic. Like it's staged " Draco tilted his head for emphasis.

" staged ? Looks like someone can't digest that I'm with someone " harry snickered softly as he stacked away files

" then tell me what Exactly of an item even are you and him ?" Draco asked, merely curious, perhaps more.

" nothing exclusive. Random hook ups. A few dates. Why are you suddenly so curious about me and Blaise ? Are you, perhaps, jealous ?" Harry looked at Draco with a mocking smirk

" jealous! Why would I be ?"

" I don't know, maybe the fact that I'm not just with you but with someone else too" Harry's Voice densed as he stepped closer to the chair draco was sitting on.

" why should that bother me ? We're not exclusive " Draco looked anywhere but Harry's face, as if he felt slightly embarrassed.

" exactly. So it's my business however I like to fuck Blaise, against the wall or against the bed. And that shouldn't bother you " harry smirked as he put his hands over the sides of Draco's chair, leaning down to face Draco.

" it's none of my business " Draco gulped as he stared at the proximity of their faces

" not your business, right. Then you won't mind if i tell you we hooked up after the last time we hooked up ?" Harry asked as he tried his best to stare at Draco's lips without wanting to kiss them.

" nope. Not my business. You're at perfect liberty to kiss whoever you want, whenever you want and wherever you want " Draco replied without taking his eyes off Harry's lips, as though if Harry leaned anymore closer he won't be able to resist himself.

" and how I kiss, right. It won't bother you if I kiss over his neck, give him a hickey as he moans, right. It won't bother you if I told you that I kissed him behind the building, made out even, or the fact that I kissed him when I fucked him last night or that I bit his lips, licked his lips and passionately kissed him with tongue with the desperation to just Rip each others clothes off with and just fuck until our breaths gave out like I fucked you against the bed, with your hands pinned above your head while you kept moaning my name and begging me to go faster. It won't bother you if I said, I did it with him too " harry rasped

" y- yes. It doesn't bother me " Draco swallowed.

" good then" and harry walked away back to stacking his files up in the rack again.

" I suppose you'd be bringing him to ministry dinner ? Rockwall's retirement dinner?" Draco had asked at the end of the day just before they left

" who ?"

" Blaise " he could've sworn Draco smirked before he had turned away to pick up his coat from the stand.

Harry frowned before he realised why he would " oh, I- no. We're not that public kind of couple sort of thing yet so. I'll ask him though"

" you should bring him " Draco had smiled mockingly before he walked out of the door, leaving Harry to fetch his own coat and bags.

" what's he playing at now ?" Harry furiously Whispered to himself as he left for home.

He didn't figure out what Exactly Draco was playing at until the very day of the ministry dinner and they were sat at the far end of the table, facing each other. Everything seemed fine until during the middle of the dinner, Harry not so subtly jerked on the feeling of something going up his legs. He apologized across the table until he noticed Draco sitting on opposite side as if he was satisfied with something and harry just knew, it was going to be one heck of a night.

He tried hard but Harry was forced to watch Draco eat, as he swirled his tongue around that of a cherry, tying it in a knot in mouths before he popped it into his mouth maintaining an eye contact with harry. It wasn't as if harry didn't had a choice, he had, he could simply look away from watching Draco sucking on straw rather seductively, eating a cherry or licking his fingers, but he couldn't simply resist because of the tension it forced down Harry. He was forced to watch Draco eat because if he didn't, he felt the world would implode with the energy between them. Draco too made sure harry was watching him and when he finally did take his eyes off him while eating, he travelled his legs up Harry's legs, slowly and carefully, causing a tingling sensation as he bit his lip. With almost a yelp, harry held the corner of the table tightly as his knuckles turned white, controlling himself. He wanted Draco to stop doing whatever he was trying to do but lord was he mesmerised with Draco biting his lips anytime Harry looked at him. It drove him crazy, more on the fact that he couldn't do anything about it.

Harry allowed everything to go as Draco until he was sure he felt something brush against his zipper. Harry almost grasped it, without a catch because there wasn't anything to catch. Suspecting Draco must be behind, as he was, he looked at him, glared at him more like to stop doing it, when he felt the tingling sensation again with Draco much juice-ly biting his lip with a wink and harry was done..

" would you all excuse. I have to use the washroom " harry immediately rushed to the washrooms, closing the door behind and breathed heavily. He stared down his pants, a much clearly visible boner had taken place because of Draco's mischievous behaviour and somehow harry loved it. He loved the tension, the lust and all the sexual energy there was. But sat in a ministry dinner he couldn't afford to have a boner or have inappropriate thoughts of fucking Draco right there because of how highly unethical it was.

Harry pushed himself away from the door, clearing his mind as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, his body relaxing little by little. To do at least something while he relaxed further, he washed his hands and just then he heard the door unlock.

" they're missing you out there " he smirked as he closed the door behind him, locking it with his back pressed against it, arms crossing in front.

" fuck off Draco " harry rolled his eyes as he closed off the Tap, taking the tissue and drying his hand.

" oh we got a little Arousal " Draco teased as he had seen Harry's pants. Harry blushed in embarrassment but didn't deter.

" because of you " Harry rolled his eyes turning around, pocketing his hands. Draco pushed himself from the door, walking towards Harry leaned over the sink, his back facing the mirrors.

Draco with lustful intentions, grabbed Harry's tie pulling him closer " I'm very glad then " he smirked as he swiftly tried to way his hands down Harry's body

" Draco-" harry rasped getting hold of Draco's hand, stopping it from going further

Draco smirked as he leaned over to Harry's ear, Whispering " I've got you Harry "

Draco bit his lip as he leaned backwards to watch harry trying to control his breathing as he was forced to watch Draco's lips.

" what you gonna do now ?" Draco seductively questioned as he moved his other hand to immediately cup Harry's pants.

" fuck " harry gasped as he tried to hold of Draco's hands but was pinned behind him with Draco's hold.

" i knew you and Blaise were never a thing"

Draco bit his lip as he cupped a little tighter than before, feeling how hard Harry have became in such a short span of time since he came in the washroom.

" I swear Draco, If you're going to bite that lip one more time, I'm going to do it for you " Harry's Voice deepened as he stayed there watching Draco with lust.

Draco smirked as he licked his lip and bit them again but a warning been given once, harry didn't waste time in pining Draco against the wall by their side in a few seconds that Draco didn't see it coming however he wasn't surprised.

" I warned you " harry purred

" who said I didn't want you to " Draco smirked. Harry only looked at him for a second before he pulled draco into a much awaited long kiss of lustful passion embodying their tongues in little battle of dominance. But once gave in, Draco never again stood a chance against the dominant harry, biting off Draco's lip without a care in the world only to hear him make the same sound he always did whenever harry found his lips over Draco. It was as if their lips were designed, but only for them, like they were made to be kissed by no one but them. Harry knew Draco was giving in because he liked it,he liked it when Harry was rough, he liked it when Harry took control because it was unexpected of whatever Harry would do and Draco loved it. He loved the passion, the desire, the desperation Harry's mouth held as they finely pressed against his as if his tongue was trying to write a letter over his mouth. And they kissed like they Only had other's air to survive on. They kissed like never before.

" admit it, you were jealous " Harry teased as he bit Draco's bottom lips, his body adjusted betweens Harry's leg as he was sat over the sink

" in your dreams potter " Draco moaned tugging the end of the roots of Harry's hair.

" you are a lot more than just jealous in my dreams malfoy " harry purred as he kissed him again, much nastily this time, as if it was a necessity.

" show me all you got " Draco moaned into his mouth and harry wasted no further time in apparating them to his bedroom without thinking of anyone at the party or what would he explain or how would he in the first place. All he cared right now was Draco, and his tangled feelings for him.

" you sure ?" Harry had asked only once after they had messily taken off each other's shirt off, now lost somewhere in the puddle of clothes while he was on top of Draco.

" never been more " Draco moaned before he pulled harry down into another messy kiss and slipped into the intimacy of moaning his name as they fucked again over his bed, only this time it was more than just fucking, Maybe it always had been more than just fucking to them. It might've been Making love, who knew, not even them, they were just hormonal men seeking desires to be fulfilled.

300 followers appreciation dialogue prompt request open

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calpalirwin · 3 years

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Let The Walls Break Down

Summary: Calum gets over his skepticism

Word Count: 2.7k

And away, and away we go!

“It’s almost impossible. Love sucks. Don’t try it. It’s a scam.”

That had been Calum’s general thoughts on relationships since the two of you called it quits. The “almost” bit was in admittance that 1.) your relationship had been amicable from start to finish, in fact the two of you were still close with each other, and 2.) he knew love worked for some people, however he didn’t view himself as one of those some.

Being close to Calum post breakup meant you had a front row seat to the man’s brief stints at romance, which was a nice way of saying “endless stream of one night stands.” The flip side was he had a front row seat to your own count of nameless men. While in the beginning, the others in your friend group joked in hushed tones that it was an act on both your parts to stir up jealousy, the longer it went on without any animosity building up between you and Calum, the more the whispers died down until they disappeared all together. Because the simple truth was that the one night stands were just about sex. After all, you and Calum had learned together that the two of you were too busy for anything more than casual sex. A lesson both of you considered well-learned until Michael got engaged and flipped everything into a new perspective.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love,” you said after Crystal recounted all the details and you stopped squealing in excitement for her. “I mean, anyone who sees you and Michael has to believe it’s real.”

“Aw, Y/N,” Crystal blushed shyly.

You laughed, “I’m serious. You and Michael. Luke and Sierra. Ashton and Kaykay. I’m surrounded with reasons to believe love exists. The real ‘can’t imagine my life without you’ kind of love. But for me?” You waved a hand dismissively. “Pfft, nah.”

“Because you don’t believe he’s out there for you, or because you already had him and the timing was wrong?” she pressed suggestively.

You rolled your eyes. Right person, wrong time was the excuse you had given when asked when you and Calum split, because to you, it was the closest thing to the truth. “Okay…” you started slowly. “Of course I loved Cal. And I still love him now. But when we were together… We were kids who were focused on our careers. And we’re still those career-driven kids. Understanding the balance between professional life and personal life without feeling like we’re sacrificing a piece of it for another was something Cal and I will never master. We tried. I thought if I could find that balance with anyone, it would be with him. But it wasn’t. And that’s okay. I’m fulfilled in other ways.”

“But…” Crystal kept trying to press.

“But nothing,” you laughed. “I’m happy with my life the way it is, Crys. And beyond happy for you and Michael. You’re getting married!”

~~~

Across town in a celebration of their own, Calum was under similar fire. “Happy for ya, mate,” Calum said, clapping Michael on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Cal,” Michael beamed. “I think I’m still in shock from all of it.”

“I think that’s probably a natural feeling,” Ashton told him, playing the voice of reason. “It’s an exciting change that pulls things into sharper focus.”

“Yeah, like all I wanna do now is tell Sierra how much I love her,” Luke put in.

“Oh, you fuckin’ sap,” Calum laughed.

“Just because you’ve never been in love…”

“I have too!” Calum defended.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Y/N, idiot…” Ashton told Luke with a roll of his eyes.

Luke nodded in a “Oh, yeah!” fashion, before going on, “Is she the only girl you ever loved?”

“Yep.”

“So why aren’t you still with her?”

Calum shrugged. “Timing was off. And we haven’t changed. So why would the timing have suddenly changed?” The question was rhetorical, without the slightest hint of hurt. A simple fact of life, nothing less, nothing more. A fact Calum had made peace with long before.

“So what? You’re fine with the greatest love of your life being over 2 years ago?” they questioned anyway.

He shrugged again. “Have been for a while, in case ya haven’t noticed. And no,” he raised a hand, cutting off any protest, “this isn’t a bitter, ‘oh convince me otherwise’ deal. Y/N and I are both more than happy with the lives we’re living.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I talk with her, and I trust she’s telling me the truth…”

“Alright, alright,” Ashton was willing to let the conversation rest, but he had one last question. “Is there any part of you that would want to try again with Y/N?”

A third and final shrug. “I mean, she was the only one I ever saw a future with aside from the band.”

“That has to mean something, Cal. C’mon. If there was ever a time to give love a chance, it’s now.”

~~~

While Calum’s head raced with his friends' words of encouragement, if he could call it that, yours raced with thoughts of feeling like you somehow failed in life. Sure, your career was everything you wanted it to be and more. You wouldn’t trade a single moment of your life for anything else. But now that your friends were clearly doing more than simple dating, the doubt started to trickle in. Would it be nice to share a life with someone? Absolutely. But not at the risk of your own independence. And the only person who had ever proven that you could maybe have the best of both worlds was Calum. And even that hadn’t worked. But maybe there was something to Crystal’s words about it being a case of bad timing. Maybe it was worth another try.

So that’s where you found yourself, sitting on the edge of your bed, sharing at Calum’s contact, finger hovering over the call icon, trying to figure out where and how to start again with the man. And then your phone was buzzing in your hand, and you gasped. Had you accidentally hit the call button?! No. Calum was calling you. Confused, you hit accept. “Hey, Cal. What’s up?”

“Not much. Just had a quick question for ya.”

“Well I might have a quick answer for ya.”

You heard his soft chuckle and then a brief pause as he cleared his throat, and you knew he was pushing a hand through his hair, stemming whatever nerves this “question” was creating. “You got any dinner plans for Friday?”

“No. Why?”

“There’s this new place I’ve been wanting a try, and you know how I am about eating out alone. And it’s been a minute since just the two of us hung out. So I’ll pick you up at 7?”

You gave a small laugh at the rushed excuse, wondering what he was really up to. “Sure thing, Cal.”

“Cool. Oh, and uh, dress in something nice-ish? The restaurant’s kinda uppity.”

Another small laugh. “Alright, Cal. See you Friday then.”

~~~

“It’s just dinner. It’s just Cal,” you told your reflection as you finished getting ready. “Nothing you haven’t done a million times before,” you kept trying to calm the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. While you had a pretty good idea on what this dinner really was, you didn’t want to get your hopes up that Calum was having the same change of heart that you’d been having. The man really did hate eating alone at restaurants, and if the place was as upscale as he had told you, then it made sense that he’d rather bring you along than Ashton. And he had been right about it being a good while since it was just the two of you spending time together rather than a larger group outing.

But when Calum knocked on your door rather than texting that he was in your driveway, you couldn’t stop the blush coloring your cheeks. And when you opened the door to reveal the man on the other side, dressed sharply with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand, you felt your heart skip a beat. “Oh, Cal,” you breathed. “You didn’t have to do that,” you told him, taking the flowers and moving to put them in a vase of water.

“It’s how you deserve to be treated,” he said simply with a shrug as he leaned against your doorway.

“You’re too sweet to me, Hood,” you teased lightly. “Ready?”

“After you.”

When he went as far as to get the car door for you, you had to laugh. “Okay, Hood. What gives?”

“I told you. I’m treating you the way you deserve to be treated.”

“Nah, there’s more. I can tell. C’mon. Spill it,” you pressed when he got in the driver’s seat. “Flowers. Getting the door. Dinner at a place that requires me to dress like this. You’re up to something.”

“You look stunning, by the way,” he said, reaching over to give your thigh a squeeze.

“Calum Thomas Hood.”

He sighed. “We were good, right? Like when we were together? It’s not my memory playing tricks on me?”

“You were the best boyfriend I ever had,” you answered honestly.

He nodded. “Okay. You’re not allowed to make fun of me. But since Mike got engaged, it’s gotten to me a bit. Almost like I’m missing out on something, but it’s weird because my life is already everything I want it to be. So what could I possibly be missing out on, you know?”

“Why would I make fun of you for that?”

“Because it’s a stupid ass reason to take you on a date.”

“Oh, is that what this is? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned. “Look, I guess what I’m saying is, recent events made me reevaluate things in my life. And I think I’m in a better position than I was a few years ago to be a real partner to someone. And even when I wasn’t that person, you were the only one I could see myself becoming that person for. So… if you’re up for it, I’d really like for us to try again.”

Underneath the streetlight casting him in a soft reddish hue, he turned his head slightly to look over at you, brown eyes hopeful and solemn. When the light turned green, he turned his attention back to the road, but kept stealing glances over at you, still waiting for your response.

“I guess it’s only fair to let you know that I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

The corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. “Really?”

“Really,” you said with a soft smile and a small nod of your head. “I was actually hoping this was more on the date side than the friends grabbing a bite to eat side.”

“Good, because this is definitely a date.”

“Good,” you nodded again before leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning as warmth spread across his face.

~3 Years Later~

You startled awake at a phone ringing nearby, a tangled mess of limbs and bedsheets. “Mmm?” Calum rasped, voice heavy with sleep as he answered the phone, followed by a quick, “Whoa, mate, stop yelling. You did what now?” There was a small pause as whoever was on the other end of the conversation spoke in a rapid flurry that you couldn’t decipher. “You did?!” Calum clarified whatever the news was, sitting up straight in bed, your head falling from his chest to his lap.

“Ow…” you giggled, shifting to sit up against the headboard like Calum was.

“Sorry,” Calum mouthed, listening intently to whoever he was still talking to, raising a finger for you to give him a minute when you raised an eyebrow in silent question. “That’s fuckin’ great, Luke! Congrats to the both of you. Lemme know what the plans are for celebrating and give Sierra a hug from me in the meantime, yeah? Alright. Talk to ya later, mate. Bye.”

“Well?” you demanded.

“Luke and Sierra are getting married. Or he proposed anyway, and she said yes.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Yeah, I’m really happy for them. Wow… first Mike, now Luke. We really aren’t the same kids we used to be, are we?”

“I think in some respect you guys still are. You still cling to those roots of who you used to be, the things that shaped you into the people you are now. But you guys are also growing up, too. It happens, Cal.”

“Yeah, no, I just… Wow. It’s not something I really pay much attention to, us growing up, until something like this happens.”

“The last time one of your band members got engaged, you got a case of feeling like you weren’t measuring up somehow. You’re not feeling that way now, are you?”

“No. Not at all. In fact… Luke said something when Mike told us he got engaged. That he wanted to go tell Sierra how much he loved her.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, and at the time I made fun of him for it. But… I dunno… I get it. This type of shit really shifts things into perspective.”

“I mean, yeah. Last time it resulted in both of us thinking we should try being an ‘us’ again. What’s the perspective shifting to this time? You’re not gonna go out, and buy a ring, are you?”

“No, I already have one in my sock drawer.”

You choked. “What?”

He climbed out of bed with a laugh, making his way to the dresser and rummaging around in one of the top drawers. Then, something small was soaring through the air as he tossed whatever it was onto the bed towards you. “Told ya,” he said simply, as you grabbed the small box, popping the lid to find a ring inside.

“How long have you had this?” you asked, your voice a small whisper.

“Uh… 2016 I think,” he said as he rejoined you in bed.

“So, since the first time we dated?”

“Yep.”

“Calum!”

“What?” he laughed. “I told you our entire relationship, both then and now, that you’re the only person I see a future with. Did you think I was lying?”

“No! I- I just didn’t know you went so far as to get a ring, and keep it for 5 bloody years.”

“Well, it would have been a little weird if you had it all these years, considering… ya know.”

You laughed in a mix of disbelief and shock. “You are absolutely crazy.”

“I’m not actually proposing, you know that, yeah? I mean, yes, the ring is yours. But only if you want it to be. I love the life we have together, more so than I thought I could love any other version of my life. I never feel like I’m stuck in place, or missing something when I’m with you. I’ll be just as happy if you never wear that ring, as I would if you wore it every day for the rest of your life. You, me, Duke, and music is all I’m ever gonna need in life. I’ve known it since the first time I said I love you. Even in those years we thought chasing our careers was more important, you were still the only person I’ve ever been in love with.”

“Calum…” you breathed, your lip trembling.

“Shh, if you want the whole deal of the proposal and the picture perfect wedding, I’ll give that to you gladly. That’s what the ring’s for. But if you’re content with what we have now, this will always be enough for me, and that’s a promise.”

“I don’t want a proposal only because Luke and Sierra made you extra sentimental. I don’t want to take their moment away from them either.”

“That ring has been yours far longer than any extra sentiment our friends getting engaged could stir up, but I get what you’re saying. If/when you want it, say the word.”

“Ask me again in a year,” you decided. “And I mean really ask me. The whole deal.”

“I can’t fuckin’ wait,” he murmured as his lips crashed into yours, his hands cupping your face. “I’m so in love with you. Always have been. Always will be.”

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writings-of-a-british-fangirl · 3 years

Text

A Lesson In Traditions [Din Djarin x Reader]

Title: A Lesson In Traditions Summary: After the brief spark, you felt between you and Din, you are longing for it to be recreated. And, maybe a shiny trinket from Mandalorian tradition can help you with that. Warnings: None I don't think ? Request: N/A

A/N: Some of you wanted a part two to A Lesson In Mando'a so here's the follow up! I might make this a series if anyone is interested

A/N 2: I made up the idea of betrothal necklaces. I don't think these exist in Mandalorian culture, but I took inspiration from water benders in Avatar the Last Airbender, because I thought the idea was cute! So credit to that series!

PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Traditions PART 3: A Lesson In Touch

Din Djarin~A Lesson In Traditions

It had been a while since Din had told you what cyar'ika had meant, and ever since then the two of you had been dancing around each other. Surely, he knew you liked him by now- you had tried to hint at him several times: lingering touches, longer conversations, closeness to him. And, yet the Mandalorian remained oblivious. You supposed that no matter the species or creed, men were all as dense as each other.

You huffed as you held the child on your lap.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, little one," you murmured, "I think I'm having more luck communicating with you, than I am with your dad. ...Maybe I should just give up. He has his creed to follow anyway..."

The child looked at you, his head slightly tilted. His big eyes stared up at you. Despite not saying anything at all, you knew he was understanding you. He was a pretty great listener, even if he was only a youngling.

"You know, you're right. Maybe I- maybe we just need a day out. Some fresh air. What do you think? Do you want to take a little trip? We need some more supplies anyway, I'm getting sick of rations, and I'd like some fresh food. What about you?"

The child perked up at the mention of food, and you smiled.

"I'll take that as a yes," you giggled, "Let me go speak to your daddy."

You placed the child gently down in his bed, and made your way up to the cockpit, where Din was flying the ship. Your head peeked up from the ladder, and you clambered up and stood awkwardly for a second at the back of the room. Din heard you enter, and waited for you to speak. He turned his head ever so slightly, his beskar glinting from the faint light the stars around the ship were producing.

"Hi," you murmured, wandering over to where Din was sitting, "How far away are we from the next stop?"

"About an hour," Din replied, "Why do you ask?"

You fold your hands neatly in front of you, you shift your weight slightly forward, and almost rock on the balls of your feet.

"Well, I was thinking that I- well, us... You, me and the kid could take a trip to the local market on our next stop. It's just we need more food anyways, and I'm going a bit stir crazy. It'll do us some good to get some fresh air, especially the kid. He can't spend his whole life in this ship."

Din contemplates for a second.

"I know what you're going to say- It's dangerous, we're being hunted but-"

"-I was actually going to say okay."

"Really? I mean, great. Thank you!"

Din smiles under his helmet, not that you can tell, and continues, "As you said, we need food anyway, and the next planet we're going to land on is remote enough. It's definitely not Imp friendly either."

You nod, and flash Din a smile. The tension slowly builds in the room; you can feel his eyes on you. Despite not being able to see his eyes (hell, you didn't even know what colour they were), you could sense them: trained on you. You coughed awkwardly.

"I'm going to go check on the kid. Uh- Give me a shout when we're about to land."

"I will, cyar'ika."

Your heart jumps at the nickname.

~~~

As soon as you landed, you grabbed your bag, your gun and a set of knives. Despite not technically being employed by any bounty hunting guilds right now, it never hurt to be prepared: especially when the small green creature you were travelling with had such a high price on his head. And, then you turned to Din. He was also carrying his fair share of weapons, and of course the child. He was situated in Din's bag, his cute little face peaking out over the top. You smiled at him, before beginning to walk down the ramp.

The Mandalorian made his way into the town, with you by his side, and his small son literally at his side. He didn't feel uneasy about this place- it looked relatively safe, but he was still on high alert. And, he wanted you to be as well.

Despite having only known you a couple of months, he didn't dare think about the possibility of something happening to you. He knew he had to protect the child, that was a given, but the growing affection he had for you was uncharted. As a boy, he had learned about Mandalorians caring for foundlings (just as they had done with him as a boy), but romantic relationships were something out of his reach. He knew they occurred; they had to. The Mandalorians, while being a creed of highly trained soldiers, still held family at their core. After all, how were they to make more warriors without romantic relationships. But, truthfully, they were something unfamiliar to him. It had never been possible in his life, not with the creed. With you, his thoughts had begun to wander more and more lately. About you being next to him, being his family. He knew Mandalorians were allowed to take their helmets off for family, for those in their Clan. The more time you spent with him, the more he considered you to be apart of his Clan... He shook himself slightly. 'Stop,' he thought, 'You shouldn't have this on your mind. Y/N doesn't think of you that way. They're here for the child. That's it.'

If only Din knew how far from the truth that was.

"I need you to take him," Din says to you, carefully taking the child from his bag and handing him to you, "I'm going to go into the cantina, and see if I can find me- us some work. I trust you can manage to get us some supplies?"

"You insult me, my love," you laugh, holding the child in your arms, "I am more than capable. I hope you save me at least one good bounty. I can't let you have all the fun."

"I'll keep an eye out. Meet me here in half an hour."

"Will do, my love," you smile and walk away from him.

Din was glad for the distance being put between the two of you, because he was sure if you were any closer to him, you would be able to hear his heart racing behind his beskar. 'My love,' he pondered. He quite liked the way that sounded rolling off your tongue, perhaps even more than he liked hearing you say his own name. He gave one last look over his shoulder, just to make sure you were okay, before heading into the cantina.

~~~

You'd successfully made it to the market, and had made your way around over half of the stalls, and you had basically bought all the food for you and your Mandalorian. As you continued walking through the market, most of the stalls you passed by were food, but some were trinkets, toys, and even weapons. You'd hesitated by one particular booth. They were selling crystals, luxury cloth, and jewellery. Usually, you weren't one for such fine things (in your life style, things like that would end up ruined, stolen or pawned), but you'd been drawn in by one particular necklace. The chain was made up of two types of metal from what you could tell: a shinning silver, and a deep, darker grey. Attached to the chain was an unfamiliar symbol. It curved into a symmetrical shape, one that looked like two halves of a whole.

"That's real beskar, you know," the seller assured, "It would look beautiful sitting around your neck."

The seller was an older woman. She wore blue and purple robes, dirtied only a little by the sand- no doubt from the extensive sand desert that lay just outside the town. She had a kind face, her eyes smiling up at you. You'd almost forgotten to reply.

"What do you say? Can I interest you in such a fine, unique piece?"

"Oh, I'm not sure-"

"-I'm sure your husband would like it: it would match his own armour after all," the lady added, taking the necklace off of its stand and presenting it to you.

"Oh, he's not- He's not my husband. We're just travel companions, that's all."

"Someone should tell him that. The way he looks at you... Only few people are so lucky. Looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky."

"How do you know that? His helmet-"

"-There's some things you just know with age, dearie. Love is one of them."

You were rendered speechless. Did he really look at you like that? Was is that obvious? Did his heart beat for yours the way yours beats for his? You hardly had time to process the thought of you and Din together that close, as spouses, before the seller spoke again.

"So what do you say? Can I tempt you with this necklace? I can even throw in a free toy for the little one," she smiled, cooing to the child from across the table.

You looked at the seller, and then down to him.

"What do you say, little guy? Do you want a new toy?" you murmured to him; when you saw his eyes gleam with excitement, you knew it was all over.

"I think he said yes," the merchant laughs.

"I think you're right," you reply, reaching into your bag for your purse, "I usually wouldn't spend credits on a thing like this... But, it is quite beautiful. And, you do deserve a new toy."

You handed the lady her credits, and took the necklace from her. She'd placed it into a small, black, velvet box. The box had small silver hinges and a clasp at the front. You felt a little giddy. It had been a while since you'd made such an unessential purchase, and there was a small part of you that hoped if you wore this you might get the attention of a certain masked warrior. You shook your head, granted it was a little desperate, but you figured worth a shot.

The child also received his gift too. It was a small figurine of an animal. You weren't quite sure which one, but he seemed to like it, and that was good enough for you.

You slipped the velvet box into your bag, and caught a glimpse of your watch. Fuck, you were late. You jostled the child closer to your chest and began to almost sprint back to the cantina: you did not want to have to deal with a grumpy Mandalorian, least of all if you were the cause of his grumpiness. The closer you got, the easier it was to make out his figure.

"Look, before you say anything, I'm sorry I'm late. Time must have slipped my mind, and I ran into a strange lady at one of the stalls, and she sold me this- You know what, you probably don't need to know all that. Just know we've got enough food to last us at least a month, and the child had fun."

"He has a new toy."

"I- Yeah," you replied, "Not exactly an essential, I know, but don't worry I used my credits. Besides, it'll hopefully stop him wrecking your cockpit for a toy."

Din nodded. You don't know why you expected him to say more. He wasn't a man of many words, and you were apparently no exception. You made your way back to the ship with the Mandalorian in silence. It wasn't unpleasant by any means, but also it felt like you both had lots to say: you just didn't know how to say it.

"Did you buy anything for yourself?" Din asked, looking over to you as you reached the ship.

How did he know?

Din obviously sensed your confusion.

"I- You said that a lady sold you something, that's all," Din clarified.

"Oooh, oh that," you said, looking down at your bag, "Yeah, I did. A bit of an impulse buy if I'm honest, but the lady was too nice to deny. She sold me a necklace. Maybe you can help me put it on."

Din nodded; that should be easy. It was just a necklace after all. He'd fought off enemies twice his size, survived when the odds were against him, and was one of the best bounty hunters there was... It should be easy. So why was his heart racing?

You placed the child down on the floor of the Razor Crest, and reached inside your bag for the box. Your hands traced the inside of your bag blindly, before feelings the soft touch of velvet. Carefully, you took it out of the bag, and revealed the box. Din's eyes watched with intrigue. You unfastened the clasp and opened the box. It snapped back on its hinges, and revealed the chain.

Din's eyes registered the metal before his brain could even process it: a betrothal necklace.

"The lady said it was genuine beskar, but I'm not so sure. I think it's just silver, probably some iron too- but it's pretty either way. Do you mind helping me put it on still?"

Din's mind was still racing. He'd heard about the tradition of giving a betrothal necklace from urban tales and word of mouth from other Mandalorians, but he'd never actually seen one this close. The tradition stated that the Mandalorian proposing would take part of their beskar and part of their riduur-to-be's beskar and melt them into a necklace, with the two swirling around each other before eventually combining into a symbol at the bottom. Usually it was a good luck symbol, or for fertility. Something along those lines. It felt almost surreal seeing one close up.

"Are you alright, Din?" you ask, "Is something up?"

He wasn't sure if he should mention the tradition, what the necklace meant to the Mandalorians... It was basically a dead tradition now, anyway. There was no harm in not telling you, right? After all, there were very few Mandalorians left, and even fewer that managed to have the privilege of finding a riduur: you didn't need to know..

"No, no... I'm fine," he reassures, "I- Hand me the necklace."

Din took the necklace from you and instructed you to hold your hair out of the way. You obliged, and felt him lace the necklace around your neck before fastening it in the back. There was a small pause, where the two of you just stayed there: in the moment. It took everything in you not to shiver as you felt a rush down your spine. The sensation of Din's hands on you, even just for a moment, was almost too much. You turned around to face him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, holding the pendant of your new necklace between your thumb and your index finger.

"It suits you," he affirmed, "Mesh'la."

"Thank you," you blushed, making a mental note to ask what 'Mesh'la' meant at a later date, "I- I'm going to go put the food supplies away."

Din decided against telling you about the origin of your neckalce; you looked far too radiant wearing it for him to say anything that may shift the tone. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he just let you walk past him. Part of him felt guilty for not saying anything, but another part of him selfishly thought it looked beautiful sat around your neck. For a moment he could almost imagine that he had given you that..

...That you were his riduur.

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elamarth-calmagol · 3 years

Text

What actually is LACE? (an informal essay)

What’s LACE?

Laws and Customs among the Eldar, or LACE, is the most popular section of the History of Middle Earth books. It's available online as a PDF here: http://faculty.smu.edu/bwheeler/tolkien/online_reader/T-LawsandCustoms.pdf . There’s a lot of LACE analysis in the fandom, Silmarillion smut fics are usually labeled “LACE compliant” or “not LACE compliant”, and I’ve been seeing the document itself show up in actual fics, meaning that the characters themselves are discussing it.

LACE is an unfinished, non-canonical essay split into several parts. It covers the sexuality of elves, which is mostly what people talk about. It also covers elvish naming (which I want to make a whole different post about), the speed at which elves grow up, changes that happen throughout their lives, their death and rebirth, and finally the legal and moral issues of Finwe remarrying after Miriel’s death. The discussion about rebirth conflicts with Tolkien’s later writings about Glorfindel’s re-embodiment, but to the best of my knowledge, LACE is the best or only source for most of the topics it covers.

However, LACE is not canon since it doesn’t show up in the Silmarillion. Counting all of the History of Middle Earth as canon is literally impossible, considering Tolkien contradicts himself all over the place. It is only useful because it has so much information that is never discussed in the actual canon. Many people consider it canon out of convenience.

Another important thing to remember is that, other than presumably the discussion of the growth of elvish children, the information is only supposed to apply to the Eldar (meaning the Vanyar, Noldor, Teleri, and Sindar) and not the dark-elves such as the Silvan elves and Avari.

The rest is behind the cut to avoid clogging your feeds.

Problems with LACE interpretations

But because it’s hidden in the History of Middle Earth (volume 10, Morgoth’s Ring), barely anyone actually gets the opportunity to read it. I don’t think most people are aware that you can get it online, so it doesn't get read much.

I feel like this leads to a handful of people saying something about LACE and everyone else going along with it. I definitely did this. I was amazed by all the things that were in the actual essay that nobody had ever told me about, or had told me incorrectly. For example, most people seem to believe that elves become married at the completion of sexual intercourse (whatever that means to the fic author). In fact, LACE explicitly says that elves must take an oath using the name of Eru in order to be legally married. Specifically:

It was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage, and after which the indissoluble bond was complete… [I]t was at all times lawful for any of the Eldar, being both unwed, to marry thus of free consent one to another without ceremony or witness (save blessings exchanged and the naming of the Name); and the union so joined was alike indissoluble.

I’ve seen a marriage oath being included in a few stories recently, but most writers leave out the oath entirely and just have sex be automatically equivalent to marriage. What would happen if elves had sex without swearing an oath? I don’t know, but I’d love to see it explored.

Then there’s a footnote that might explicitly deny the existence of transgender elves... or not, but I’ve literally only seen it mentioned once or twice. Overall, I feel like all of LACE is filtered through the handful of people who read it, and we’re missing out on a lot of metanalysis and interpretations that we could have because most fans never see the actual document.

Who wrote LACE?

I mean within the mythology of Middle Earth, of course. Since LACE appears in the History of Middle Earth and not the Silmarillion, we can be pretty sure that J.R.R. Tolkien himself wrote it and it wasn’t added to by Christopher Tolkien. But that’s not the question here. Remember that Tolkien’s frame narrative for all of his Middle Earth work is that he is a scholar of ancient times and is translating documents from Westron and Sindarin for modern audiences to read and understand. The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings come from the Red Book of Westmarch, and I believe The Silmarillion is meant to be Tolkien’s own writings based on his research (though it might also be an adaption of Bilbo’s “Translations from the Elvish”, but I haven't looked into that). So what does LACE come from?

Christopher Tolkien admits in his notes that he doesn’t know. He says, “It is clear in any case that this is presented as the work, not of one of the Eldar, but of a Man,” and I agree, because of the way it seems to be written as an ethnographic study rather than by someone who lives in the culture. Honestly, it talks too much about how elves are seen by Men (e.g. speculating that elf-children might look like the children of Men) to be written by an elf. This changes once it gets to the Doom of Finwe and Miriel, but that could be, and probably is, a story told to the writer by an elf who was there at the time.

Tolkien actually references Aelfwine in the second version of the text. The original story behind The Lost Tales, which was the abandoned first version of the Silmarillion, was that a man from the Viking period named Aelfwine/Eriol stumbled onto the Straight Road and found himself on Tol Eressea. He spoke to the elves and brought back their stories to England with him. So it makes a lot of sense that Aelfwine would also write about the lives and customs of the elves for an audience of his own people.

Does LACE exist in Middle Earth?

I keep finding fics where first age elves discuss “the Laws and Customs” openly, as if it’s a text in their own world. I usually get the impression that it was brought by the Noldor from Valinor. But did the document actually exist in that time period? For me, the answer is definitely not.

First of all, LACE was probably written by a Man, meaning it could not have dated back to Valinor in the years of the Trees, because Men hadn’t awaked yet. In fact, the closest thing to an established frame narrative for it is that it was written by Aelfwine, who comes from the time period around 1000 CE (though Tolkien doesn’t seem to have pinned him down). This is at least the fifth age, if not later.

But what if you don’t believe that it was written by a Man? It still couldn’t have been written in the First Age, because it discusses the way the relationship between elves’ bodies and souls changes as ages go by. For example:

As ages passed the dominance of their fear ever increased, ‘consuming’ their bodies... The end of this process is their ‘fading’, as Men have called it.

A lot of time has to go by in order for elves to get to the point of fading. As a bonus, here’s another reference to the perspective of Men. LACE also discusses the dangers that “houseless feas”, which are souls of elves who do not go to Mandos after their bodies died, pose to Men. How would they have known about that in the First Age? It further says that “more than one rebirth is seldom recorded” (which isn’t contradicted anywhere I know of), and that’s not something you would know during your life of joy in Valinor, where almost nobody dies. That’s something you learn after millennia of war. This has to be a document written well after the Silmarillion ends.

So what about the sex part? That’s all we care about, right? Well, it is entirely possible that this was written down by the elves and Aelfwine translated it (though my impression is that he mostly recorded stories told orally to him and that elves were not very much into writing, at least in Valinor where you could get stories directly from someone who experienced them). However, why would the elves write this down? They know how quickly their children grow up. They’ve seen actual marriages. They don’t need that described to them. And if they did have a specific document or story explaining the expectations of them when it comes to sex and marriage, why would they call it “Laws and Customs”? That’s a very strange name for a set of rules for conduct. I’m sure they had a list of laws written out somewhere in great detail, like our own state or national laws (that seems very in character for the Noldor, at least). But I seriously doubt that those laws are what we’ve been given to read. LACE is not an elvish or Valinoran document.

Is LACE prescriptive or descriptive?

Here’s the other big question I’m interested in. Prescriptive means that the document describes the way people should behave. Descriptive means that it describes how people do behave. And the more I worldbuild for Middle Earth and the culture of elves, the more I want to say that LACE is prescriptive in its discussion of sex, marriage, and gender roles.

But wait. I’ve been saying for paragraphs that I think LACE is Aelfwine or another Man’s ethnographic study of elvish culture. Then it has to be descriptive, right?

Does it? How long do we think Aelfwine stayed with the elves? Did he wait fifty years to see a child grow up? Did he get to witness a wedding ceremony? Did he meet houseless fea? I don’t think he could have done all of that. Maybe a different Man who spent his entire life with the elves could, but then when was this written? When the elves were still marrying and having children in Middle Earth or when so much time had gone by that they had begun to fade already?

Whoever wrote this was told a lot of information by elves instead of experiencing it firsthand, the same way he heard the stories from the First Age from the elves instead of being there. Maybe it was one elf who talked to him, maybe several different ones. But did those elves accurately describe their society the way it was, give him the easiest description, or explain the way it was supposed to be? If I was describing modern-day America, would I discuss premarital sex or just our dating and marriage customs? Maybe people would come away from a talk with me thinking that moving in together equated to marriage for Americans in the early 21st century. And I don’t even have an agenda to show America in a certain way, I'm just bad at explaining. Did the elves talking to what may have been the first Man they had seen in millennia have an agenda in the way they presented themselves?

Or did the writer himself have an agenda? Imagine going to see these beautiful, mythical, perfect beings, and you find out that they behave in the same immoral ways Men do. Do you want to share the truth back home? Or do you leave out things that don't match your worldview? Did Aelfwine come back wanting to tell people what elves were really like? Or did he want to say “this is how you can be holy and perfect like an elf”?

Anyone studying the Age of Exploration will tell you that Europeans neber wrote about new cultures objectively, and often things were made up to fit the writer’s idea of what savages looked like. For example, my Native American history teacher in college told a story of how explorers described one tribe who (sensibly) didn't wear clothes as cannibals, because cannibalism and going around naked went together in their minds and not because of any actual incident. Unbiased scholarship barely existed yet. Even Tolkien was extremely biased and tended to be imperialistic, as we all know. There’s absolutely no reason to think that Aelfwine wasn’t biased in his own way. (Of course, now we have to consider what biases a Danish or English man from the centuries around 1000 would have when it comes to things like gender roles. I assume he would have been more into divorce and female warriors than the elves are said to be.)

But is that what Tolkien intended? Probably not. He probably wanted LACE to be descriptive. But he also never got much of a chance to analyse the essay after the fact, which might have led to him discussing its accuracy and even the exact issues I just pointed out about explorers. Anyway, we know he's biased, and honestly, what he intended has never slowed down the fandom before.

Conclusion

In short, I take LACE to be a prescriptive document describing the way elvish culture is supposed to be, not a blueprint I have to stick to in order to correctly portray elves. I also don’t believe the document that’s available for us to read existed even in the early Fourth Age, where The Lord of the Rings leaves off. There maybe have been some document outlining the moral behavior of elves, as a set of laws, but thats not the Laws and Customs we have.

Of course, canon is up to you to interpret. If you want Feanor discussing LACE with someone back in Valinor, go ahead. If you want to throw out LACE entirely, go ahead. It’s not even a canonical essay. All of this analysis is honestly useless when you consider the fact that no part of LACE exists in any canonical book.

But that’s Tolkien analysis for you.

#lotr #silmarillion #tolkien #laws and customs of the eldar #history of middle earth #silm #analysis #meta #headcanon #long post #mine

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sadoeuphemist · 4 years

Text

Someone tell me if this is a thing:

An old wise woman was gathering cattails by the river when she noticed two men and a woman by the riverbank, engaged in a heated discussion. They had a massive sack of grain with them, and a piddling little rowboat that barely looked like it could fit two people. One of the men noticed her and waved and jogged over.

“Excuse me,” he said, “I don’t suppose you could help us out? We’re trying to get across the river, but we can’t quite work out how, and I think another point of view could be just what we need.”

“I’m glad to lend a hand,” the wise woman said. “What’s the problem?”

“Well, that’s my brother and his wife over there, they’re newly-wed. Me and my brother, we traveled to her village for the wedding and now we’re taking her back home, but we had to go a different route and now we’re stuck at this river. That sack of grain’s her dowry - we’re miller’s sons, you see.”

The wise woman nodded patiently.

“The problem is, that boat can only carry two of us at a time - we’ve tried it out, the sack’s practically the size of a man. And I’m the only one who actually knows how to row. But my brother’s wife, she has this - I know it’s strange, but she has this compulsion to eat grain. Just can’t help herself. You can’t leave her alone with grain - she’ll just start cramming it in her mouth the moment no one’s there to stop her.

“My brother says they’ll make it work, she’ll just never go by the mill and that’ll be that. All right, then. But right now I can’t leave her alone anywhere with the grain sack, and my brother’s too softhearted over his blushing new bride to refuse her anything - HEY!” he yelled suddenly, looking over his shoulder. The young woman guiltily hid her hands behind her back. “For God’s sake, Miriam, please, stop trying to eat the grain, all right? This nice woman’s trying to help us out, just settle down for a minute. And Tom! I’ve been telling you: If we can get the grain back home safely and grind it to flour in the mill, then we can sell the flour, and you can use the money to buy her more grain! You see how it works?”

The other man mumbled something like, ‘but she wants it so badly now!’

“So you see how it is,” he said, running his fingers through his hair as he turned back to the wise woman. “And that’d all be simple except here’s the thing -” He leaned in even closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I - um, oh God ... I’m in love with my brother’s wife.”

The wise woman’s eyes widened. “Ah!”

“I know, I know, it’s wrong, but I can’t help it! The moment we laid eyes on each other there was this instant animal attraction between us - and she’s told me she feels the same way. And if - if we can just get back to our village and she goes to live in my brother’s house and never comes by the mill, then we can live like that, we’ll go about our separate lives and not do any harm to anyone. But right now - oh!” He hid his face in his hands. “I can’t trust myself to be alone with her! The solution seems so simple to Tom, but we have to keep making up all these stupid excuses to convince him why it won’t work out!”

He looked up at the wise woman miserably. “We’ve been arguing in circles - I ferry the grain across first and then row back, then I ferry my brother across - but then I’ll have to go back and be all alone with Miriam on this side of the river, and I can’t, but we can’t tell him why! It seems impossible! How can we work this out?”

The wise woman considered the problem for a moment.

“You want there to be a simple sequence of instructions to follow,” she said at last, “but even if such a solution did exist, it wouldn’t resolve the tangle you’re in. You can’t spend the rest of your lives going back and forth across the river, always swapping things out so that nobody gets hurt. What you need to do now is decide what’s most important to you: What you want to keep, and what you want your relationships with them to look like.” She held up three fingers sternly. “Your brother, his wife, the sack of grain: cuck, ferry, mill?”

#fiction #highly experimental

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

things change | jhs

pairing: jung hoseok x oc

genre: FLUFFFFFF, established relationship

words: 3, 377

summary: when you're an unlikely pair but it works

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you weren’t with her?” Yoongi slurs, his alcohol breath apparent enough for Hoseok to scrunch in his direction.

Hoseok knew, though. What he meant. Drunk Yoongi got sentimental and curious, two perceptions that were dangerous independently and possibly collateral together.

“I don’t.” Hoseok shrugs.

Because being with you was the best thing that’s happened to him and he would be a crazy man to ever put himself through the angst of imagining a world that he was Jung Hoseok without you by his side. It was cheesy and he was sure if he said it to your face you’d groan and shove him by the shoulder. But he’s always been observant and he’d be the first to see the way your eyes soften in a way that no one else can notice but him.

“I do.” Yoongi snorts.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He’s careful with his words because Yoongi was no snitch, even if he was absolutely wasted. But Hoseok can’t say his interest isn’t piqued. Especially when he surrendered himself to the DD (designated driver) of the group.

“It’s just”—Yoongi sighs, sitting up and his drink sloshes in his cup when he places it onto the table—“I’ve said this before and you’ve probably heard this a thousand times but the two of you are so different.”

Hoseok remains silent but doesn’t do anything to give away the thoughts floating through his mind. He was half-expecting the same words to leave his friend's mouth, but having it be confirmed only makes Hoseok internalise his sighs.

“Yeah. You and every person who’s seen the two of us together.” Hoseok grunts.

“Look. I know you hate it when people point it out.” Yoongi says. “And I’m not here to tell you what you already know and on a fundamental level, we both know that the birds of a feather flock together bullshit is redundant and unrealistic. It’s just that every time I see the two of you together—it works. And it’s bewildering maybe because I can’t ever imagine _____ letting you win an argument.”

Hoseok blinks. “She doesn’t.”

Yoongi snickers, throwing the last bit of his drink down his throat before leaning back into the plush booth of the club they were at.

When Jin suggested throwing a bachelor party at one of the hottest nightclubs in Seoul, Yoongi and Hoseok almost ditched purely because the two of them had girlfriends and they didn’t really want to hear the end of the story if a stripper suddenly thought they were free game for the night.

Frankly, Yoongi’s girl was far more possessive but she was sweet. She just didn’t like it when people were actively trying to sleep with her boyfriend.

You, on the other hand, were simply unbothered. It wasn’t because you didn’t care—because you did. Hoseok knew that even if you’d roll your eyes at him when he’d joke about going to a strip club with the boys. But you weren’t insecure, and that wasn’t to say that women who were outwardly concerned were. You were just assured, and you made an effort to let Hoseok know that he needed you as much as you needed him—so anything he did wouldn’t just hurt you, but him too.

“It’s just that you’re basically the most cheerful dude I know and I don’t think I’ve seen you ever frown at anyone. Even the barista who fucked up our order four times.” Yoongi recalls. “Then there’s ____ who’s resting face literally is a big fuck you to anyone who breathes in her direction.”

Hoseok snorts, sipping his virgin cocktail. Even if he wasn’t the DD, he couldn’t do alcohol so the minty flavour of his drink was a night refresher for a tiring night (though he spent it just moping in his seat while the rest of his single friends partied away).

“I get mad too.” Hoseok shrugs.

“Yeah. Barely. Even then—you’re the most diplomatic person I know and you have a way of talking to people to get your point across without making them fear for their lives the next morning.” Yoongi deadpans.

“And sometimes diplomacy isn’t necessary.” Hoseok retorts.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’m not shitting on your girlfriend. You don’t need to play social justice warrior here.”

Hoseok sighs before leaning back, mirroring the man spread Yoongi was in while he ponders his next set of words carefully.

Yoongi was probably one of the most chill people Hoseok knows, and maybe that was why they got along so well. Yoongi was a take-no-shit kind of man who was truly sensitive under all the intimidating layers he showed the world. Hoseok was just nice, but he was no pushover. It was a good balance that came out when necessary.

So Hoseok didn’t want to rub Yoongi the wrong way and tell him to stop talking about petty differences between him and you but also wanted to satiate the curiousity that lingers in his eyes.

“I know,” Hoseok says. A girl nearly topples into their booth but Hoseok spots his younger friend Taehyung grabbing her by the waist and shooting the two men a sleazy wink before he stalks off with her in his arms. Yoongi rolls his eyes but Hoseok can’t even be bothered.

“I mean,” Yoongi drawls. “Based on what you told me I know that the two of you don’t even want the same things in the future. And again—not saying there’s anything wrong with that—but didn’t you want kids for the longest time?”

Hoseok nods his head, deciding against his words.

Yoongi clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, nodding slowly as if he was processing Hoseok’s words.

“How did that … do you still want kids?”

“I want what _____ wants.”

Yoongi groans. “You sound like a total pushover.”

Hoseok levels a strict stare onto his friend, and even if Yoongi was older—there was something about a man who never got angry shooting him an intense stare that could make Yoongi zip his mouth.

“And kids aren’t endgame to a relationship. I love her, and yeah—I want kids. But she’s important to me and she’s here now. There isn’t a reason for me to condemn her or push her for a future that doesn’t exist yet. She’s the one carrying the baby for nine months and it’s her decision whether or not we have kids. Whether or not a kid comes along doesn’t matter to me because I’m with her because I love her and not because of a kid that isn’t real.”

Yoongi blinks. Then he huffs a breath out before letting out a low chuckle.

“Wow.”

“I know you don’t mean any harm but I don’t need to explain to anyone why _____ and I work so well together. But because you’re my best friend and you get oddly sentimental when you’re drunk I’ll spell it out for you and you better hope you’re sober enough to remember this tomorrow because I won’t repeat it again.” Hoseok says firmly.

Yoongi’s eyes widen at the serious tone Hoseok shifted to and observes the way Hoseok looks stern yet … soft, all at the same time.

“_____ is tough. In more ways than her exterior. She knows what she wants and what she’s ready for. And it was a goddamn miracle that she decided that what she wants and what she’s ready for was me. Yeah, she’s terrifying but she’s human—her heart is still pure and she’s a kind woman—person. Sure she’s systematic and needs an answer for everything but I’m her boyfriend and I’ll make sure that I can give her all the answer she needs to feel safe in this relationship. And yeah—we may not want the same things. She doesn’t want to get married but I do. But marriage isn’t endgame to me. She is. She wanted to move in together but I was iffy about it. So we live apart. That doesn’t change the nature of our love and she still loves me even if all I do is annoy her. So yeah. I’m willing to compromise and so is she. We’re different but we’re together.”

Hoseok is still calm as ever and there’s even a hint of a small smile on his face. The fact he’s smiling only testifies to the fact that you and Hoseok were so different from each other.

Yoongi is stunned to silence and sure he’s a quiet man but he usually had things to say, opinions to add. But Hoseok’s proclamation of your love only makes him sit in silence, letting the words dissipate in the atmosphere but remain in his conscience.

“Wow,” Yoongi repeats his words from earlier, but it’s all he can muster up.

Hoseok offers his friend a kind smile, sipping the rest of his drink while his friend can only stare at his nonchalant demeanour.

“And if you still don’t see it.” Hoseok grins. “There’s a reason why you don’t. I’m the only one that gets to fall in love with her like this.”

Yoongi whistles lowly before rolling his eyes. “No need to get possessive.”

“I’m a man in love. Sue me.” Hoseok shrugs with a slight smirk.

Yoongi gags at the cheesiness even if he finds himself internally grinning at his best friends blatant love for his girlfriend. He was sure it was the alcohol that was making him mushy—or perhaps Hoseok has always looked the way he did when he spoke about you. Eyes bright under dark lights and the heart-shaped smile of his becoming wider.

“If it counts for anything …” Yoongi trails off, offering a lazy smile to Hoseok. “I really hope she does marry you.”

Hoseok scoffs at Yoongi’s blatant optimism. Sure, he wanted that. He wanted nothing more than to see you in white, smiling only at him—or even with your usual stoic face—he doesn’t care. But he knew that the event itself would never change the fact that he wanted to be with you, now and forever. If fate wills, he’d marry you in a heartbeat. But Hoseok was content—and more importantly, he was in love.

“It doesn’t. But thanks.”

extra scene

“Hi, my love and my absolute sunshine.” Hoseok coos the next morning, and that’s the first thing he says when you open the door to your apartment; eyes already rolling to the back of your head.

“Did you do anything to piss me off?” You ask dryly.

Hoseok snickers, but pulls you in by your shoulders to give you a wet smooch to your lips that has you whining. You don’t push him away because you knew it was just the two of you and possibly one of your snooping neighbours.

“As you love to remind me during arguments—my existence is enough to do that, no?”

You nod your head, patting him gently on the cheek as you offer a half-hearted smile. “I’m glad you’re on the road to self-actualisation.”

Your boyfriend snorts, stepping into your apartment as he makes sure to leave his shoes on the shoe rack instead of idly laying on the floor because you were anal about things like that. And he missed you so he didn’t want you shooting him death stares just yet.

“You keep me on my feet.” Hoseok flirts, tone a little sleazy and you can’t help but sigh at your boyfriend's antics even though a hint of a smile marks your face.

When Hoseok settles into your couch, he immediately spots a wrapper that looked like it went into gift boxes—a pretty shade of green, which was his favourite colour. He immediately leans forward and eyes it with furrowed brows before looking up at you.

“My pretty baby got me a gift?” He wiggles said brows as you scoff at him, plopping into the seat next to him as you lean into his embrace.

“See for yourself.” You shrug, face still remaining blank.

Hoseok chuckles, already expecting your reaction even though everything about the placement of the wrapper to the strategic colour scheme of it screamed a gift for Hoseok. He knew you still got flustered when you did nice things for him, even if he’d argue that was on a daily basis because you were just a loud lover in a way that let your actions speak for your affection.

He wants to coddle you further, snuggle you so hard that you’d whine and attempt to shove him away until you decide that you secretly love it and hold him tight. He was so in love. But he placates the shift of your knee in a way he knew was due to your patience wearing thin.

So, he picks up the wrapper and realised that it was much lighter than he’d expected; and lacked the density of a usual present. It almost seemed like you were pulling a prank on him for no apparent reason. But Hoseok trusted you and knew that you weren’t the type to pull shit like that because you just had better things to do.

He unravels each crevice, eyes still searching for the gift that somehow never comes—all until he finally settles on a stick that he vaguely recognises from pharmacies that he never thought would be in his hands, staring up at him with two straight lines.

The silence is loud, but Hoseok is stunned. His mouth falls agape as he cradles the pregnancy test in his palm, eyes not bothering to look at your nervous expression. One that rarely comes from you just because you were an assured person in general and seldom needed validation from others.

But you loved Hoseok and you knew deep down that he’d always have an effect on you, words or actions—presence or not.

“Hobi?” You call softly, voice nervous as you fiddle with the hem of his shirt as he blankly stares at the test.

You’re terrified you made a mistake—or if he’s changed his mind because of your pessimism on the idea of having children. Sometimes you wonder how Hoseok could love you, all edges and harsh lines when you spoke. A woman who was either black and white or purely a grey area. Hoseok was the rainbow on dark days and brightened any environment.

You can’t read Hoseok’s face, and it scares you. Because you usually can since he was an open book. So when he finally turns to you, and you finally get a proper glimpse of his expression—

First, you see tears.

“I-Is this …?” He chokes.

Your eyes widen, immediately reaching out to cradle his cheeks as an involuntary reaction.

“Why are you crying?” You feel yourself tearing up and you try to suppress it. There was something about you being so connected to Hoseok and his feelings that made everything he felt translate to your own conscience.

“Y-You—I-I—you’re pregnant?” He whispers, eyes returning to the stick.

You nod your head slowly. “I am.”

Hoseok nibbles on his lips and you wait patiently for his next response. You can more or less guess that he’s happy yet confused, the conversation of potentially having kids never really showing any progress. But he’s been patient and so loving—and you thought you’d never shake but here you were.

The next thing you know, Hoseok is wrapping his arms around you so tightly that it hurts as you try to gasp for air. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck in a way that makes all your edges turn round, and your heart melt from the stone wall it was into a flurry of emotions that only he can bring out of you.

“We’re going to have a baby?” He asks softly, pulling away to clasp his palms around your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“We are.” You reply, equally as soft; eyes and tone. “You’re going to be a father, Hobi.”

And somehow, that breaks him. He can’t stop the tears nor can you. So you allow him to cry, and you allow yourself to feel too; holding each other close as you feel his hand reach out for your stomach. And you can’t deny the butterflies that erupt.

When he manages to regain his composure, wiping at his eyes; he looks at you so earnestly and gives you a wide smile that drew you in from the moment you met, and grown to love.

“You really want this?” He asks, eyes concerned but tone irrevocably gentle. You knew he wasn’t doubting your choices, but respecting them.

You nod your head.

“For the longest time … I thought kids weren’t for me. That I wouldn’t be a good mother because of how I am.” You tell him, and you see Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow and you know he’s thinking about denying that. But Hoseok has never been the type to interrupt you while talking. “And maybe I won’t be, maybe I will. But having you here with me just reassures me to know that our baby will have the greatest, most loving and most patient father out there.”

Hoseok’s eyes soften, knowing how big of a decision this must’ve been for you.

“I love you.” He whispers when he leans in to give you a slow kiss on your lips, one that wasn’t leading anywhere but was nice enough to feel the emotions pouring through.

You don’t say it back, but you look at him with gentle eyes that only he can recognise—and he knows. He knows your heart like you know his.

“You’ve compromised a lot of things for me, and I know I’m particular about many things. I have a plan ten years down the road of where I’d like to be in my life—and I never thought I’d be planning with a kid in mind.” You chuckle softly, and Hoseok pulls you closer so that you’re resting your head against his chest. “But you make me want to do things I’ve never done. And I really—I really want this baby. I want him or her to grow up thinking about how badass their parents were even though their mom is a total bitch and their dad is the mediator of the family.”

Hoseok snorts, brushing his hands through your hair.

“How long?” He asks.

You grin against his t-shirt, not looking up when you fiddle with the fabric of it.

“I’ve been feeling symptoms for a month now, and the test was from a week ago. I went to the doctor to be sure because I knew from the moment I suspected it that I wanted it to be true, for you, for me—for us.”

Hoseok tilts your chin up, offering you the smile you love so much and you feel so … happy.

“Next thing you know I’ll have you walking down the aisle.” Hoseok sighs, happy and content.

You roll your eyes, narrowing it at him as you push on his chest to sit up.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jung.”

Hoseok wraps his hand around the back of your neck before pulling you close to meet your lips again.

“Let a man dream.” He grins against the kiss.

He can feel your giggle and the way you do the thing that you do when you’re secretly ruffled but adore him way too much to pull away.

“You know this means we have to move in together, right?” You murmur against his lips.

Hoseok snorts. “Duh. But you know you already have a home in my heart, right?”

You expected it, but it doesn’t make it any less cheesy when you groan and shove at his chest. Hoseok cackles, fully loving the way you scrunch your eyebrows in distaste at him.

“I hate you.” You scowl.

“No, you don’t.” Hoseok sings, resting his head against your shoulder while he looks up at you with innocent eyes.

You’re happy, and so is he.

And a few months down the road, Hoseok drops a ring into your palm, no words or expectations. You roll your eyes, as usual; but you slip it onto your ring-ringer anyways.

#bts imagines #bts fics #bts jhope #jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #jung hoseok #hoseok imagine #hoseok fic

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tuiccim · 3 years

Text

Terrigenisis (Part 10)

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 1669

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: Fluff and SMUT (18+, NSFW)

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist Divider by @firefly-graphics

As the months went by, the relationship between Steve, Bucky, and yourself became more and more solid. You talked about the future, made plans, and worked through the few issues that had arisen. There had been missions and you had become an integral part of the team. You were happy. You had a job you loved, two men you loved, a home, and a family in your team. It was idyllic. Which terrified you at times. When the fear began to overwhelm you, Bucky and Steve were there for you. They let you express your fears and helped you through them.

You were gearing up for a mission to take out a large Hydra base that had been recently discovered. The intel on its existence was solid even though what was going on there was a mystery. Some information had been gleaned through surveillance but it was mostly pictures of objects with an alien language. Thor and Loki were expected to arrive today to help and give some information on what these items could be.

The team was awaiting their arrival in the conference room except Steve and Tony who were greeting them. You were going over mission details and making tactical plans with the available information.

“So, what are Thor and Loki like?” You ask the group in general.

“Thor’s a good guy. Nice. A little terse at times. Intense.” Bruce replies.

“What about Loki?” You look at Bruce.

“He’s a bag of cats. He’s trying to be… different. Better, I guess. That’s why he’s coming. Thor is trusting him. I guess we’ll have to try, too.” Bruce shrugs as Natasha scoffs.

“Be careful around Loki. There’s a reason he’s the god of mischief.” Natasha warns.

“Noted.” You say just as they walk in. You immediately smile when you catch Steve’s eye but turn your attention to the two Asgardians as they enter. Steve makes introductions as Tony pulls up the intel photos for the two gods.

“This looks to be Kree.” Thor states.

“It is.” Loki confirms as he swipes through the photos.

“Kree?” You say bringing Thor’s attention to you.

“Yes. They-”

“Created Inhumans.”

“Yes. You are familiar with the Inhumans?” Thor asks.

“I am an Inhuman.” You watch the two for any reaction.

“Ah, a fellow abomination.” Loki grins. “What are your powers?”

You stare Loki down for a moment. Interpreting no malice in his remarks, you reply, “Warging, understanding of all vocal communication, increased strength and stamina.”

“Interesting.” Loki narrows his eyes.

“Warging?” Thor asks and you give him a brief explanation.

Going back to the available information, the team gleans all it can to formulate a plan. Afterwards, everyone moves to the common room to relax while Tony has a meal brought in.

“Loki has been watching you the entire time we’ve been in here.” Natasha murmurs to you.

“Novelty, I guess.” You shrug.

“Maybe so. Are you okay?”

“Just have a headache all of a sudden.” You say.

“Want me to get you something?”

“No, I’ll-mmph! Ow. It feels like an icepick in my head.” You say.

Natasha’s eyes widen and her head snaps up, “Loki, stop!”

You make eye contact with the god and feel another stab of pain. Realizing he is trying to get in your head, you push back at the feeling.

“What are you doing, brother?” Thor grabs his arm.

“I just wanted to see how far her capabilities went, brother. She began fighting me. Strong, this one.” Loki smirks.

“Keep your mind games to yourself, Loki!” Steve growls.

“No, it’s okay.” You say. “Try.”

“What?” Steve turns to you with a stern look.

“I want to see if he can. I can’t know how far my abilities go if I don’t push them. Most of my powers have to do with my senses. I’m just curious.” You shrug.

“Doll, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Bucky warns. “It was obviously causing you pain.”

“It’s not a big deal. Will you try again, Loki?” You ask.

“At your service, darling.” Loki grins and concentrates on you again. Your head aches almost immediately and the sharp stabbing pain returns but you fight back against it. Using the same thought process you use when warging you concentrate on Loki, pushing back against his mental invasion. The pain in your head increases the more you fight back but you aren’t willing to stop. You feel a surge from Loki and automatically push back at him with a mental force that suddenly turns your eyes green as the god’s and you realize you have entered his mind. Intense pain spikes through you bringing you to your knees as you grab the sides of your head. A scream tears from your throat before you black out.

You wake in Bucky’s arms as he takes quick strides towards the elevator.

“Bucky. I’m okay.” You say.

“You passed out. You aren’t okay.” Bucky says firmly.

“We’re just going to take you to get checked out, sweetheart.” Steve says from right beside you.

“No, I’m fine. Put me down.” You squirm in Bucky’s arms.

“Doll-” “Sweetheart-”

“Down! Now!” You all but shout. Bucky reluctantly lowers you to the floor and you stand, holding his shoulder for support. “Well, that was new.”

“What did Loki do to you?” Steve growls.

“I only did as she asked.” Loki defends himself. “She managed to fight my attempts. It was quite impressive. Not many can keep me out of their mind as she did. And then, she slipped into my mind. It probably overwhelmed her as she’s not used to such an exertion.”

“Agreed.” You say. “I’ve never been able to do that with a human before.”

“You were probably able to because I have to open my mind in order to reach out. That was admirable.” Loki says.

“Uh, thanks?” You laugh lightly.

“Did you see anything?” Loki asks with eyes narrowed.

“It was pretty jumbled.” You admit.

“That’s normal for a first timer. Come, let’s discuss our little experiment.” Loki wraps your hand around his arm and guides you away from your two supersoldiers who glare at Loki as the two of you sit on the loveseat. When dinner is ready, you sit at the table between Bucky and Steve. Loki is seated across from you with Thor next to him and the table is jovial as everyone enjoys the company and food. You notice that Loki retreats into himself during the meal. As soon as the meal is over, you approach Loki again to ask more questions about his abilities. Everyone drifts into the common room while you and Loki sit at one end of the table and talk. He has a great deal of knowledge regarding the Kree, Inhumans, and different abilities. You learn more in two hours than you had in the six months with your Inhuman team.

“Hey Doll. We’re heading to the room.” Bucky approaches to say.

“Okay, Love. I’ll be there shortly.” You smile up at him as he leans down to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

Loki watches as Bucky leaves with a smirk, “So, you and Sergeant Bar-”

“Sweetheart, you coming to bed?” Steve interrupts.

“Soon, Babe. Loki is giving me some history on the Kree.”

Steve eyes Loki for a moment before leaning down to kiss you possessively “Don’t be too long.”

“I won’t.” You smile at him as he leaves. Turning back to Loki, it’s your turn to smirk, “Yes, Me and Bucky and Steve.”

“That was unexpected.” Loki raises an eyebrow.

“I imagine not much surprises you.” You laugh.

“Very little.” Loki says.

“You know, I was prepared to hate you but… you aren’t exactly what I was expecting.”

“I was under the influence of other entities during the Battle of New York. It spoke to the basest part of me. I know I’ll never fully make up for it but I’m hopeful I can do some good to set it to rights.”

“I’m sure you will. Do some good, that is. I should head to bed. Good night, Loki.”

“Good night.” Loki nods his head and joins his brother.

You were impressed with him. Truthfully, you had planned on hating him. After all, he had killed Coulson but when you had slipped into his mind you had felt his remorse. You were honest when you told him that everything was jumbled. The memories and images that came through had been but his feelings had been loud and clear. Inferiority, remorse, contrition, fear, and hope had suffused you when your minds were joined. It had softened you towards him and you hoped that he could find some corner of redemption in all of this.

When you get to the bedroom, you pause a minute to smile at Steve and Bucky cuddled up together in the bed.

“Come join us, pretty girl.” Steve beckons.

“What were you and Loki talking about that kept you so enthralled?” Bucky groused.

“Careful, Buck. You almost sound jealous.” You laugh. “We were talking about the Kree and inhumans and different abilities. I learned a good bit from him. Loki offered to bring some information and writings when he comes again.”

“He doesn’t usually talk to any of us much when he’s around.” Steve says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Usually all we get out of him is sly remarks.” Bucky says.

“Huh. Probably a defense mechanism. He feels he has a lot to make up for and know no one really likes him.” You offer.

“How did you find that out?” Steve asks.

“When we did the Vulcan mindmeld. I could feel what he was feeling more than anything else. It told quite the story in and of itself.”

“Loki is a master manipulator.” Steve warns.

“I understand.” You reassure them. “And we leave for mission tomorrow for who knows how long. Is there anything you'd like to do before that happens?”

“Yeah.” “Definitely.” They speak at the same time.

“What would that be?” You ask.

“You.” They say in unison.

Part 11

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babygirl-diaz · 3 years

Note

Prompt: SamBucky are /not/ together but it's getting there. So something wild happens idk magic or some shit and 1940s Bucky gets plucked from his timelime and thrown into theirs. 40s Bucky doesn't pull any punches, and goes for what he wants and that's Sam.

(Sorry it took me almost a month to write this anon. I didn't know how to go about it until today. I wrote this as crack. I hope you still like it! This is pretty similar to my other fic)

Sam was taking the trash out when it happened. Now, you have to understand, Sam has seen some weird shit in his time. He was erased out of existence, for fuck's sake. But this one still took the cake. So yeah, as he took the trash out. The sky, THE FUCKING SKY, suddenly opened and something shot out of it dropping right into Sam's dumpster. Sam was thrown back from the impact, his trash landing elsewhere.

Sam's ribs hurt like hell as he got up from the ground. "Shit," he groaned.

A pained moan came from the dumpster and as if on reflex, Sam's hand went into his back pocket. "Who's in there?!" He asked, panicked.

He slowly took a step towards the dumpster and stopped in his tracks when he heard another pained sound. "Get out of there," Sam warned the person. "Come on. I'm not playing."

Hands grabbed at the edge of the dumpster and someone slowly hauled themself up and tried to get out of the dumpster but they lost their balance and fell to the ground.

"Shit," Sam hissed, before rushing over to help them. "Hey, man, you o-" Sam's voice died in his throat when he finally saw the face of the person before him. "Bucky?!" It was Bucky alright. But not the Bucky Sam knew. This Bucky was young, clean-shaven... dressed in military uniform... if it weren't for those blue hues, Sam wouldn't even have recognized him. This wasn't the Bucky who was in their shared apartment right now. "What the hell is happening?" Sam asked, more to himself than the guy in front of him, who was staring up at him in somehow both fear and awe.

Sam was definitely dead. This was either heaven or hell and Bucky was here as his younger self... Well, if Bucky was here, then it had to be hell. But it didn't feel any different. It still felt like D.C. cold and smelling of corruption. Or maybe that's what hell was...

"Where am I?" The man-- Bucky?-- asked.

"Hell," Sam replied without thinking.

"What?!" That got young Bucky's attention, and he sat on the ground. "I'm dead?"

"Well, I'm guessing you and I both are... because that's the only explanation I can come up with. Where the hell did you come from?"

"I don't know..." Young Bucky almost looked like he was on the verge of tears. "What is happening? Where is Steve? We were at the exhibition... we were talking... and now I'm..." The man swayed and fainted.

SHIT.

Despite his own broken ribs (yes, Sam had decided this wasn't hell and he wasn't dead), Sam hauled young Bucky up from the ground and threw young Bucky's arm around his own shoulder before wrapping his arm around young Bucky's waist (he should really stop calling him young Bucky). This Bucky was light. He wasn't built like a damn truck like his own Bucky (okay, no he wasn't Sam's Bucky but he was Sam's friend so he was technically Sam's? FOCUS Sam. Bigger problems).

Sam somehow got young Bucky (Okay, he was going to start calling him Sergeant Barnes. He was dressed in his uniform after all) into the elevator. Thankfully, no one saw him with Sergeant Barnes. He practically carried Sergeant Barnes to his apartment and used his keys to open the door.

"Wow, took you long enough. What were you doing? Taking the trash all the way to the landfill?" Bucky was sitting in front of the TV, browsing through Netflix.

"Bucky-- we have a problem. I found something-- or rather someone, downstairs"

"Did you go dumpster diving, Sam? I swear to god, Sam, if this is another one of your attempts to adopt a cat--" Bucky stopped talking and turned around and his eyes widened. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" He flew out of the seat and stumbled back.

"Surprise?" Sam said awkwardly. He helped Sergeant Barnes to the sofa and dropped him on it.

Sam's ribs protested, and he doubled over in pain. "Fuck," he groaned.

"What the fuck is that, Sam?"

Sam looked up at Bucky to find him looking at his younger self, horrified.

"That is you," Sam replied.

"No, it's not."

"Yeah, it is," Sam insisted. "He dropped from the sky."

"He what?" Bucky laughed hysterically

"You're freaking out. Stop freaking out," Sam tried to touch Bucky's shoulder, who stepped away from him.

"OF COURSE I'M FREAKING OUT! I mean, LOOK AT HIM... That's me... That's me from 1942."

"How do you know what exact year he's from?"

"I was dressed like that... like a damn dweeb right before they shipped me out."

A groan got Sam's attention, and he looked over at the sofa to see Sergeant Barnes waking up.

The sergeant's eyes widened when looked from Sam to Bucky. "What the-- WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" He screeched. "WHO ARE YOU?!"

"I am you," Bucky replied. "Look, there is no easy way to say this but It seems you have somehow ended up in the future."

"The future?" Now it was Sergeant Barnes's turn to laugh hysterically. "You're saying I've ended up in the future?! That's the funniest thing I've heard all day, pal. Is this a prank? Is Steve getting back at me?"

Sam went over to Sergeant Barnes and crouched in front of him on the floor. "Listen, Sergeant Barnes-"

"You can call me Bucky." Young Bucky offered him a sweet smile.

"Actually, I can't," Sam replied. "He's Bucky to me--" he said pointing at Bucky "--so I have to call you something else."

The smile fell off Sergeant Barnes's face and Sam felt kinda bad.

"--Bucky is telling the truth. You've somehow ended up in the future. What do you remember last?"

"I remember meeting you, doll," Sergeant Barnes replied.

"Doll?!" Bucky said in surprise.

"Shut up, Bucky," Sam told him before going back to Sergeant Barnes. "Before that. What do you remember before that?"

"I remember we were at the exhibition of future technologies... Steve and I were talking and then--- and then I woke up in that garbage."

"Do you remember this happening to you?" Sam asked Bucky.

"No, of course, I don- wait- I do now. How is that possible?!"

"Looks like you're forming new memories, Buck," Sam suggested.

"I am really confused," Sergeant Barnes said desperately, and grabbed Sam's hands.

"Sorry, I just-- I need something to ground me. I am terrified."

"Oh yeah, of course," Sam replied. "That's okay." He squeezed Sergeant Barnes's hands.

Bucky cleared his throat behind them and Sam turned around to find him frowning. Sam just shrugged and turned back to Sergeant Barnes.

"We'll figure it out," Sam assured the young man. "And we'll get you back home."

"Well, we better because who knows what could happen the longer he's here. He could erase my existence."

Just the thought churned Sam's stomach.

"First, let's get you out of these clothes," Sam suggested, looking at Sergeant Barnes. "You smell like garbage."

"Sorry about that, sweetheart," Sergeant Barnes said with a small smile.

"Come on, I'll show you the shower. You can have some of my clothes, they should fit you."

"Why not mine?" Bucky asked. "He's literally me."

"No!" Sergeant Barnes said a little too loudly. "His clothes are fine. I didn't catch your name, by the way."

"OH! I'm Sam," Sam led him to his bedroom and found him a pair of t-shirt and sweats.

"Thank you, Sam," Sergeant Barnes said appreciatively. "I don't know what's going on here but I am glad you're here to help me through it."

Sam offered him a smile in return. "Well, I'm glad you think that. Now come on, I'll show you the shower."

"The future still has a phonograph?" Sergeant Barnes asked before following Sam out of the bedroom.

Sam nodded, "Yeah it does." He showed Sergeant Barnes to the shower and turned it on for him, adjusting the water to the right temperature. When he turned around, he found the Sergeant standing there fully naked.

"Whoa, okay," Sam immediately averted his eyes. He tried not to trail his eyes to Sergeant Barnes's nether regions. "Let me know if you need anything else. Just press that knob when you're done showering and it should turn off the water." (Okay, talking about pressing knobs right now was probably not the best idea).

Sam quickly ran out of the bathroom and he's pretty sure he heard Sergeant Barnes say, "So cute," on his way out.

"What's up with you?"

Sam jumped when he heard Bucky's voice. It almost felt like he had been caught cheating on Bucky with Bucky. Which was ridiculous because Bucky wasn't his boyfriend and he wasn't doing anything with Sergeant Barnes.

"Nothing," Sam blurted. "We should really figure out how to get him back home."

A dark look fell over Bucky's face, and Sam reached out to rest his hand on the other man's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"We send him back and he gets taken hostage by Hydra and then eventually turned into The Winter Soldier."

"Bucky, everything needs to happen exactly how it happened or your whole present and future will change."

"Would that really be such a bad thing? I mean, look at all the things I've done. If there is a chance I could erase all of that--"

"And what if you end up erasing yourself?" Sam asked.

"Sam--"

"No! Don't Sam me! We are sending him back to his time and that's that."

“Okay, then,” Bucky threw his hands up. “We’re sending him back.”

“How though? We don’t even know how he got here in the first place.”

“Maybe some sort of sorcery was involved?” Bucky suggested.

“Sorcery?!” A startled voice came from behind them and they turned around to find Sergeant Barnes standing there looking stunned. “Sorcery is real?”

“Unfortunately,” Sam replied. “We even have a sorcerer friend. Speaking of which, we should talk to him.”

“Oh, so he’s no longer a wizard?” Bucky teased

“Oh shut it,” Sam threw back and lightly punched Bucky on the shoulder.

“Are you two…” Sergeant Barnes trailed off.

“Are we what?” Sam asked distractedly.

“Are you together?” Sergeant Barnes replied. “I assume a relationship between two men is not frowned upon in the future or a relationship between an interracial couple? My time is less tolerant.”

“Trust me, our time isn’t very tolerant either, but yes, we’ve come a long way from 1942,” Sam informed him. “And to answer your question, no, Bucky and I are not together.”

Sam noticed a frown on Bucky’s face but he ignored it.

“Are you taken?” Sergeant Barnes asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, I’m not,” Sam replied.

Sergeant Barnes stepped closer to Sam and smiled at him. “Good, because, if you were, I would be really sad.”

“Why?” Sam gulped at the closeness of the other man. He smelled like tea tree oil, the scent of Bucky’s body wash.

“Because you are gorgeous and I would hate it if you were taken.”

Sam feels his cheeks heat up at that. “Oh wow… Um.. thanks.”

Sergeant Barnes snaked his arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him closer. “Do you mind if I kissed ya, doll?”

Sam felt his arm being grabbed, and he was pulled back and away from Sergeant Barnes.

“Maybe you should focus more on the fact that you’re stuck in the future than on Sam.”

Sam felt Bucky’s arm around his waist. His grip was almost possessive.

“Are you jealous?” Sergeant Barnes asked with a cocky grin on his face. Sam has sometimes seen that grin on Bucky’s face but it’s very rare.

“Jealous? Of you? Kid, you give yourself too much credit.”

“Boys, you do realize you’re the same person, right?” Sam pulled himself away from Bucky.

“I am not him!” Both of them said at the same time.

“Clearly,” Sam rolled his eyes.

#SamBucky #TFATWS #fanfiction #aashnas drabble #crack

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css1992 · 3 years

Text

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies – and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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